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#No this is not a road trip Au because why on earth would it be an alternate universe
solazu1 · 2 months
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OH SHIT, THEY’RE ROAD-TRIPPING!!!! I have,, a bit of a thing planned :3 a series of images if you will, maybe one can consider it a project or whatever. They're on a journey!! More content awaits including how chaotic it is to have Alex, Amy, Brian, Tim, Jay, and Jessica all in one car going from Alabama to Arizona.
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sp0o0kylights · 2 months
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Being from PNW as I am, I really want to do a Polybius AU with Steddie (I just don’t want to write it lmao) 
We begin with Eddie being absolutely attached to this growing urban legend. An arcade cabinet shrouded in mysterious gameplay, awash with rumors of kids disappearing or even dying, and men in black “collecting” something from the cabinet every week? 
Throw in his own little weird encounter with an arcade game as a kid, one Eddie cannot for the life of him find again and yeah, he’s salivating over this shit. 
Hellfire’s tired of hearing about it. This has been Eddie’s white whale since they met him, they’re done listening to him chase down rumors and insist the game was checking for psychic powers in the population. (Or testing a “mind weapon” or six other things.) 
 He gets met with nothing but groans and complaints when he catches wind that something like Polybius popped up on the west coast, igniting the rumors all over again, but this is a new tale for Hellfire’s freshmen.
They sit, enraptured  and asking six million questions, by something everyone but Mike thinks is just some silly bullshit story--but it’s so out there that Lucas and Dustin placate him. 
(“Why on earth would Brenner use an arcade cabinet when he was just kidnapping kids at birth Mike, you just want an excuse to see El…”)
Obviously Polybius IRL takes place in Oregon, but let’s say things have grown a bit. Extended, like the growth of a disgusting, pulsing vine, into California. 
Will is walking home when his hand flies to the back of his neck, a buzzing overtaking his ears as this weird, black arcade cabinet from a nearby shop seems to slide into his focus.
Slowly, like a camera lens being focused, it pulls him in until El yanks him out of it and he realizes he hasn't been breathing.
 Later he tells Mike--because he has to tell someone that isn't Jonathan and isn't El and absolutely isn't his mom-- and Mike absolutely loses his shit. 
This, of course, accumulates into a blowup at lunch, in front of the rest of Hellfire. 
Who are rolling their eyes because oh God, not only has Eddie infected the freshman with this, they’re now doing that thing they do where they get all secretive and try to talk in code words. 
(As if all of Hellfire isn’t aware they think “Mike’s girlfriend” who is about as real to them as Suzie is, has superpowers. 
The party is good at a lot of things, but whispering isn’t one of them.)  
There's an argument about whether this means Brenner, or someone like him, is collecting kids again and if so, do they have a responsibility to stop it, and that this isn't the Upside Down this is human horror, but what if it is actually the Upside Down, they don’t know--and it goes round and round between the Party in Hawkins and El & Will up in California, via phone calls. 
The Hawkins crew decides they need to go to California, together. 
They just…have to figure out a way to get there, first. 
Will & El on the other hand, decide they can’t wait, because they can save kids.
They can make a difference--prevent this shit from happening in a new location all over again.
El doesn't want to be like Kali anymore, but she understands what Kali was trying to do and she feels that same sort of responsibility to stop what she can. 
They disappear. 
Jonathan calls everyone he can, frantic, because he thinks Will and El have decided to go back to Hawkins, and his mother just left with Murray to do something she was extremely vague about and Argyle does not have enough weed for this.
If you guessed this accumulates with a Eddie + the Extended Party (Nance/Steve/Robin) going on a road trip you’d be right. 
Also they collect Suzie on the way because no one ever uses her in stories and fuck it she’d be fun to bring in. 
With them being in California you have Max’s past coming into play, as well as Eddie’s own mystery with the arcade cabinet, everyone crashing together at the Byers house (one bed or no bed either is hilarious for Steddie) and as we left the rest of Hellfire back at Hawkins to try and dodge six million questions about where like, ten people vanished off to (“Uh….camp?”) we get to have some fun there too. 
Throw in Eddie’s massive ass crush, “out of Hawkins”  Robin + Steve (who is perhaps a lot more chill with things than Eddie realized) and a need to go “undercover” at a gay bar purely for selfish reasons on my end (I want to see Steve flirt shamelessly with men and watch Eddie blue screen bc of it) and you have a lot of fun with the entire groups dynamic. 
I don’t have an ending other than Eddie at some point needs to play Polybuis and Steve drapes himself over Eddie’s back, whispering encouragement in his ear as a way to keep him from getting pulled into it the way Will was while the kids work together to kill whatever it is the government's unleashed this time (not Brenner, but instead another branch or faction who took his research and ran) but I’d love to parallel Eddie more to Will, on both the gay and supernatural fronts.
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themightymoose · 2 months
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trolls au you say?
well.... let's do this... *large inhale*
okay so it'd be a basic swap au where the pop trolls are the villains and the rock trolls are good
"But Moose, isn't that the whole point of the second movie? That the Pop Trolls were the ones who started the whole thing?" Shhhhhhhhh shut up shut up shut up
Anyways-
The plot would basically start from World Tour. But the first movie is a little bit different, but the main character is Barb so we don't really ""see"" any of it.
First movie context: first of all I would want the snack pack to do more and be their own characters, especially DJ (girlie just disappeared off the face of the earth in the other movies) Branch is more like Creek while Creek is Poppy's childhood, gay BFF. Branch also has all of his colors for reasons. So Poppy throws an obnoxiously loud party and Bergens find them blah blah blah (side note: Poppy acts like a mixture between Adam and Alastor from Hazbin Hotel) Branch and Poppy go on their super fun road trip, they still think the other is annoying because they are massive hypocrites. They're kinda in a rivalry, always trying to one up each other with songs, parties, ect. The movie is basically the same. Creek doesn't sell them out and everyone is happy
World Tour: Barb and Riff are siblings for starters. Riff is older and king of the Rock Trolls, also an older protective big bro. Barb kinda has Poppy's personality, making her the odd one out. Branch is the one going out and stealing all the strings while Poppy stays in Pop Village to look after it's citizens. More Pop Trolls are with him, including Creek. Who does not like this at all. Between the first and second movie, Poppy and Branch grew much closer to each other, with rumors going around that Branch is going to be the king of the Pop Trolls. Which everyone is pretty fond of the idea, since he's very popular among the Pop Trolls. And Branch has grown very loyal to Poppy during this time. Then the same thing with the road trip happens, but with some minor changes. Poppy not only wants to take the strings but leave nothing left standing, so Branch also goes to Vacay Island where Bruce and Floyd are and take over that place as well taking over where the Putt Putt Trolls are staying. So on they're road trip they come across Branch's brothers + Viva. Then yeah when Branch takes the Rock string, Creek finally stands up to Branch (Creek probably had a bonding moment with some of the people on the road trip at some point) either way Branch ends up leaving Creek in the rock place while the Pop Trolls go to bring all the strings to Poppy. Branch probably tells Poppy that Creek is traitor and she probably doesn't even question it. Anyway they also kidnap Barb when she lies and says that she's the Queen of the Rock Trolls, while Riff is like "you fucking idiot"
things happen and now the leaders of each tribe are Pop zombies. The ones who aren't hypnotized notice that Branch looks kind of similar to the Pop zombies. Something that Poppy also notices. So apparently Branch would sometimes use the pop string on himself to make him happy and have color so he'd fit in, which Poppy had no idea about at all. Also Poppy has an existential crisis when she learns that Pop Trolls were the reason why they were divided. And things kind of play out the same until the third movie
also Branch gets taken in the third movie instead of Floyd but that's a different post
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brokubroo · 10 months
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more bokuroo fic recs by your friendly neighborhood bokuroo shipper
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i'm back and i have more fic recommendations! here are a handful of bokuroo fics that i think some of you might enjoy, so let's get into it!:
please make sure to mind any ratings and tags associated with the fics that might not be listed here! they're suggestions so you can make informed decisions on your comfortability, so please keep tags and age ratings in mind!
☆ this is how it starts (this is what it means) by eurydicees
Kuroo isn’t quite sure how he got here.  Here, being: stuffed in the backseat of Iwaizumi's car, listening to a combination of Suga’s music and Asahi’s nervous rambling that makes Kuroo want to claw his ears out, skipping out on his chemistry lab, and on a four hour drive to an MSBY Black Jackals game, getting ready to break his own heart. He just knows that, probably, it started with Bokuto.
rated: t (13+)
word count: 14k
tropes: friends to lovers, road trip, post-canon
why i'm recommending it: this is one of those cornerstone fics i just can't get out of my head. not only does it take place from kuroo's point of view as he navigates the nervousness of confessing to bokuto, but it's just so heartwarming and fulfilling in the end. if you haven't already, i definitely recommend putting this on your read-immediately-because-it's-bokuroo-being-bokuroo list!
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☆ Belonging by notallballs
"Okay, look," Kuroo said, releasing him and rubbing at his temples wearily. "You wanna come share my bed? You don't have to sleep, but just lie down for a few hours, that cool?" Bokuto made a face. "Your room is so quiet."  "I'll put some music on." Bokuto said nothing. "Kou. That okay? Will you try?" "...Yeah, okay." Bokuto's been having trouble sleeping, but when Kuroo invites him to share his bed, the careful balance of their friendship tips over.
rated: e (18+)
word count: 2k
tropes: friends to lovers, friends with benefits, roommates, sharing a bed, background college au
why i'm recommending it: it's sweet and simple! a common factor that many bokuroo enjoyers like myself love is the roommates trope (aka, THEY WERE ROOMMATES!) and it all comes around to a spicy but also comforting fic where they share a bed...and then they share a bed. what more could you want from a one-shot? bonus: kuroo calls bokuto "kou" and bokuto sleepily calls kuroo "k'ro" in this fic. how cute is that?!
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☆ Fly Me To The Moon by Tearsaresalty
Kuroo might have fallen for the silver-haired singer of the jazz café he goes to study. No wait -- he's actually very much in love; he just doesn't realize it at first.
rated: g (everyone) word count: 5k tropes: coffee shop setting, college au, first date, fluff why i'm recommending it: first of all, musician!bokuto and pharmacy student!kuroo is the combination no one thought they needed but definitely deserved. it's cute, lighthearted, features a lineup of seijou characters working in a coffee shop, a well-made chemistry joke, and fluff! it's an all-around enjoyable fic if you want to read about kuroo and bokuto falling in love at first sight.
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☆ Betting on Emotions by holdontoyourhulahoops
Kuroo agrees to pretend to be Bokuto's boyfriend for a few weeks so they can win a bet. It shouldn't be that big of a deal, if only his annoying feelings would stop getting in the way.
rated: t (13+) word count: 10k tropes: friends to lovers, fake dating, pining, canon compliant why i'm recommending it: bokuroo and fake dating basically go hand-in-hand when it comes to common tropes with this ship, and honestly? it totally works for them! this is a really nice fic that features some of the best tropes with canon compliant bokuroo: friends to lovers (of course), fake dating (who doesn't love a good pretend boyfriend situation?), pining (majorly), and some good ol' cute moments! it's a pretty enjoyable, down-to-earth fic that i think is worth a read.
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☆ #KurooStealsPants2K20 by kuidore
Kuroo was a good person. He was a good person, and he didn't deserve this. He could almost hear Kenma’s disbelieving scoff, and he resisted the urge to mentally tell his best friend to shut his damn mouth (as if it would actually do anything). He didn’t need imaginary Kenma’s judgment at the moment. He’d deal with enough of that from real Kenma later. "I need to borrow your pants." AKA Kuroo needs pants for a lab, Bokuto has the best (or worst) timing, and Kuroo can't catch a fucking break.
rated: e (18+)
word count: 89k
tropes: strangers to friends to lovers, different first meeting, college au, mutual pining, slow burn/build
why i'm recommending it: you might be thinking to yourself, wow, there's been a lot of pining and college fics, i wonder if this one will be different. well, i have good news and more good news: this fic has all of that and more! because, really, how can those things be overused when it comes to bokuroo? not only is this fic longer and more of a slow burn than most other fics i've recommended, but it's full of group chat funnies, angsty moments, and so much more! it's a really fun read, even if you think you're over the college au with mutual pining and friends to lovers, because this one starts out with kuroo stealing bokuto's pants...cue a knowing smirking face here. (there's also a wonderful meet-the-parents one-shot sequel that's also a funny and great follow-up!)
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anddd that's a wrap! i hope some of you all were able to find something new to read for bokuroo and have a wonderful lovely amazing bokuroo day!
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innytoes · 5 months
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For the AU combos: roadtrip/amusement park
-Flynn and Julie decide to do a road trip before they go away for college, because Flynn's going to New York and Julie's staying in LA and they need Bestie Time.
-They take Flynn's Mom's Minivan, because it is the safest vehicle, will fit all of their souvenirs, and they can sleep in it if they can't find somewhere to stay the night. (Don't tell Tía.)
-They decide to split their time into three big categories: must see landmarks, epic amusement parks (Flynn's a sucker for roller coasters) and We'll Know It When We See It.
-Among We'll Know It When We See It: Creepy haunted clown motel (no they did NOT spend the night, don't you worry, Tía), a fun small town festival with ten million fried things on a stick, a cool concert by some band nobody had ever heard of but Julie just knew her mom would have loved, and a carnival.
-Because Flynn didn't just want to ride big, cool, safe rollercoasters. No, she had to drag Julie onto ones that were set up in an hour and would be torn down in even less time.
-That's where they meet Reggie. He's really cute and really excited when he hears they're from LA ("You're going around to cool amusement parks? Have you been to Star Wars World??? Is the ride as cool as the internet makes it seem????"). He makes sure to show them around, shows them which pies are the best and what food stalls to avoid. Delights in taking them to the fortune teller, because 'it's really just Mrs Meyerson in a weird costume. She's a total gossip and knows everyone's business, that's why she's so good. I want to know what she'll say to two outsiders.'
-They have lunch together, and dinner, and ride all the rides, and Reggie wins them both a stuffed animal (a unicorn for Flynn, a red panda for Julie) by shooting tiny little moving ducks down.
-Julie wins Reggie a dalmatian by heaving a giant mallet over her head and bringing it down so hard on the high striker the bell dings loud enough people turn their heads to stare.
-Reggie looks a little bit in love with her in that moment, and Julie can't help but feel a little in love with him too.
-They're loathe to say goodbye, even as midnight approaches and there are announcements the carnival is closing soon. Reggie promises to show them a cool water tower where you can see the stars, and Julie agrees even before Flynn can weigh the options of 'he seems harmless enough' and 'following some white boy into the woods after he showed us what a good shot he is is the start of a horror movie'.
-Yes Flynn has her taser in her pocket just in case.
-But Reggie stays true to his word and the sight is amazing. The town is just twinkling lights from up here, and he says he used to come here as a kid and pretend he was an astronaut, looking down on earth, away from all his problems.
-Their conversation turns deep, and Reggie admits he has plans to run away from his little town, as soon as he can save up enough money to buy a truck. His parents spend all their time fighting, and ever since he turned eighteen a few weeks ago, with him. As if now that he's of age, they don't have to hold back their hatred anymore.
-Surprisingly, it's Flynn that offers to take him with them.
-Insert movie montage of Flynn, Julie, and Reggie having Adventures. Julie is just happy someone will go on the really terrifying rollercoasters with Flynn so she doesn't have to. Reggie is seeing the world for the first time and is excited about everything. ("A real Rainforest Cafe??? Can we go???"). Julie is slowly falling in love with this golden retriever of a boy.
-Yes they carefully edit out Reggie in any pictures they send to Julie's aunt.
-They end up back in LA, finishing the trip with a visit to Star Wars World.
-Just Julie showing up home like: hi Dad so this is Reggie he's my boyfriend and also he needs a place to stay. If he can't stay here, he's probably going to get adopted by the Taylors and live in Flynn's room and be murdered by Flynn's little sister who had dibs on that room when she moved out and then I'll be sad my boyfriend is dead sooooo...
-Yes, Reggie can stay.
-Flynn leaves for New York knowing her girl will be well looked after. Especially because she did use the taser on Reggie... but only to wave it around threateningly to give him the shovel talk somewhere around St Louis.
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mxlktxa · 9 months
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road trips :)
cw; modern!au, strong language, terrible song references, ellie would probably never listen to these songs but the one of many ellies in my brain do so… yeah, if you dont like ice spice yes you do only for 2 seconds
songs referenced; lets groove by earth, wind & fire, hey ya by outkast, princess diana by ice spice
full rambles/quick reads here!!
♬ lets just get straight to the point, on roadtips theres music which means ellie is in charge of the music which also means if you dont like the song thats playing or she skips a song you like then it sucks to be you
♬ she plays a huge range of music, so thats where youre lucky but the trip always start with a song from the 80s or 90s !!!ALWAYS!!!
“you and this song, good fuckin lord ellie”
“shut the fuck up, you know its a good ass song”
“yes, but its not the only song on earth ellie”
“… lets groove tonight, share this spice of life”
“fuck me”
♬ at any stop either pumping gas (well after pumping gas) or at any drive thru ellie blasts a song that would get you to shake ass (ellie is always recording or watching in amazment) or just screaming lyrics and putting on a ‘performance’, anything to get your hips and/or ass moving
♬ that or shes playing a movie soundtrack, a sappy slow song, or something from a video game its always a surprise/shock
“babe?” ellie had her phone in hand scrolling slowly “how much do you love me?”
“not enough, why?”
ellie smirked, the intro coming on as she was watching you get out of the car and start to jump around all happy
“my baby dont mess around dont mess around because she loves me so and this i know for sure!”
“she loves me”
♬ ellie loves seeing you add your own favorite songs to her just to holler the lyrics, even if the song pisses her off she just loved seeing you all happy and giddy
“turn this shit off”
“callin my phone but they know i dont answer in the hood im like princess diana!”
“jesus christ”
“im thick cause i be eatin oats bitches not takin shit from me but notes!”
“youre so irritating and this is so fuckin bad babe”
“eat me! to her man im the girl of his dreams thinkin bout me when he brushin his teeth!”
♬ at stops where ellie just needs a refresher or wants to just talk because youd been sleeping a refresher she makes sure to park far from everyone else, looking to you with a little smile
“hey pretty girl” ellie brushed the back of her had against your cheek “slept good?”
“mmm. do we still have those fries? or my burger? my mouth is so dry”
“i wonder why,” she placed a napkin at your chin, cleaning up the drool that rested there.
“… wheres my food and where are we?”
♬ once reaching your destination, ellie stops at a little shop buying you both little souvenirs to start off
♬ also snaps a few pictures of you and her surroundings to start the trip but mainly so her photobook always starts off with you or some scenery
“look at this little notebook! its so cute”
“mhm”
“can i get a pen? i want a pen”
“sure thing”
“are you listening to me?” you turned as the flash went off, ellie capturing your pout in the photo, smirking at it
“im always listening. i just like these off guard photos better”
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haeggi · 10 months
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while you are dreaming | myg ✓
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➔ pairing: visual arts major student!yoongi × culinary arts major student!reader
➔ genre/warnings: road trip!au, camping!au, traveling!au, soulmates!au, best friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining (confused feelings from reader), emotional constipation, anxiety, heavy self-deprecation :(
➔ word count: 14.8k
➔ glimpse: you and yoongi embark on an escapade from the bleak realities of your lives. at some point while you are both dreaming, you both experience a moment of epiphany; that you constantly sought each other's warmth for refuge.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
What does genuine happiness feel like?
Happiness. One word. Nine letters. It's a simple word with a simple meaning. With one glance, it's facile to grasp the definition of the word. Yet, it's a feeling arduous and complicated to achieve.
Throughout your time on earth, you always find yourself racing after it. And with every step you take, desperately trying to reach for it, it seems like it is getting further away from you. Just when you think you've got it, it slips from your fingers no matter how much effort you exert to clutch it.
Instead, you fall and find yourself amidst the ferocious waves, smothering your breaths. The vehement pressure constricts around you like a sea serpent, solicitous to drag you down within the trenches. You desperately try to summon your remaining potency, if you even had any left to spare. Alas, the serpent would daunt you, and you let it get into your head, and you stop resisting.
And whenever you wake up on the soft sand of a random beach, the peaks of rays coat yourself warm as if the previous night didn't torment you with perennial cataclysmic storms. Then, you're left to ponder.
Where am I?
What do I do now?
From then on, you start your day again with spontaneity, because you're faced with a huge murky forest that you had no choice but to enter if you wanted to continue to survive.
But on that particular night, in the midst of the devil hours while you lie down again within the darkness of your melancholic room and wait for the raging storm again to devour you, a beacon of light appears in your line of sight.
You rise from the waters that were beginning to submerge you, and you reach for the light, reluctantly enclosing it with your palm.
With a heavy exhale, you answer the call and press the device against your ear.
His warmth instantly instills in your erratic nerves. His mere soft breaths vibrating from the phone and traveling towards you, makes you calm your own breathing.
"Let's run away."
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
The sun is still resting beneath the clouds, and it is blanketed by the grayness of the sky. Your eyes trail after the buildings that you pass by until they are replaced by trees, stilling your breaths until you slowly let the slumber succumb you.
You don't know for how long you're gone, but you feel your consciousness gradually seeping through your system. You notice that the shuddering of the vehicle is miniscule unlike before you went to sleep. It's steady and motionless, and you realize it's the reason why you woke up. Because it wasn't lulling you to sleep anymore.
Stretching your limbs, you release a soft yawn before you fully open your eyes. You are greeted by the cerulean sky, cotton clouds patching it. You let your gaze wander to your right, and you see the sunlight's glow warming your skin adequately.
Finally, you shift your gaze to your left where you are welcomed by his soothing presence. His amiable hazel feline eyes are locked with your round mouse ones. His soft wavy ginger locks is accentuated by the sun's gleam. His hair color contrasts the paleness of his unblemished skin. And finally, his soft pink lips that is curved upward, his charming smile infectious that you can't help but reciprocate it.
The strum of baritone strings fills your ears. "Good morning," Yoongi greets.
"Morning," you mumble back. His kind smile reaches his eyes and you watch him as he reaches for something at the backseat of the pick up truck.
He hands you the paper bag with takeout, and the aroma of hamburgers fills your nostrils. You give him one of the burgers and you both start to eat in silence.
"Where do you wanna go?" Yoongi asks with a mouthful of burger in his mouth.
You blink at his question, mildly confused before you say, "I thought you had a plan in your mind."
He snickers at you, a coy smile painting his lips. "No, you dummy." He pinches your cheek to which you protest, swatting his teasing hand away. "It's not a road trip if we have an itinerary."
You scowl, caressing your cheek that is still puffed because of the burger in your mouth. "Then, why are you asking me where do I want to go? Just keep driving until we see something that piques our interest."
Yoongi hums thoughtfully, tapping the wheel with one hand. "Alright then. But first, we have to make a stop for a gasoline station. We're about to run out. Perhaps, grab a few stuffs from the convenience store too."
You nod your head in acknowledgement. "That works with me." A sudden realization comes into your mind so you abruptly shift in your seat, turning your body to face Yoongi, placing your hand on his arm.
"Wait, how long will this trip be?"
He blinks at you and ponders before coming up with the notion, "Maybe a week?"
A loud gasp escapes your lips. "I only packed enough that would last me for three days!"
Tsking, Yoongi leans towards you and your brows crease in confusion at his action. Realizing that he was reaching for the compartment, you incline back on your seat. With watchful eyes, you follow his every movement as he grunts softly, having a bit difficult time rummaging inside the small space.
"Aha," he finally exclaims, taking his arm out. In his hold is a leather wallet. He smirks at you, lifting the item in front of you.
He tilts his head and declares, "We're going shopping then."
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
Your limbs start to feel too heavy to merely lift as Yoongi continuously pulls you around the clothing store. He keeps taking shirts, pants, and shorts from the clothesline and settling them in front of your body. He would either hum in countenance and shove the apparel in the basket, or shake his head disapprovingly and return the garment to its rightful place.
Nonetheless, you let him drag you around as he pleases because you can't deny that you're starting to get fond of his attention and dedication into picking out the best outfits for you.
But you can't help but wonder loudly, "Does your course teach you fashion too?"
Yoongi doesn't look at you. He holds an over-sized shirt in front of you while answering, "Nope," he pops the p. "But, everyone who takes the course is very meticulous when it comes to their fashion styles."
You hum in understanding, "I see, you were influenced."
He nods, giving you a soft smile. Then, he finally takes the last article, which is a knitted sweater dress, hands you the basket of clothes and pushes you towards the direction of the fitting room.
"Since we're shopping, might as well buy the best ones we can find for you," he states cheekily.
It was impossible to not giggle at Yoongi's merry mood. And who were you to even deny him?
You tried out everything he gave you and you can't help but feel amazed that every piece of apparel you wore suited you. You're awestruck by your best friend's fashion sense. After trying all of them, you step out of the fitting room and you see Yoongi ambling around the store, humming a meaningless tune to himself.
When his eyes land on you, the giddy smile returns to coat his features, and you almost feel yourself melting into a puddle when he skips towards you and asks for your decision.
The gums in his mouth started to appear the moment you told him that you were happy with his choices. The sight of his gummy smile causes you to return one to him.
After a short quarrel about who has to pay, you finally let him to your dismay. But not after making him promise that it will be you who pays the next time you both eat.
As you exit the store, with two paper bags in your hand, you feel Yoongi's fingers interlacing with yours and you shoot a look at him. He seems oblivious of the unfathomable feeling swirling inside you.
Holding hands with him had been awhile, but even in your previous hangouts, this has been a routine with the both of you already. So, you wonder why a certain organ in your chest stopped beating for a second, and resumed to its usual pulsation as if nothing ever occurred.
He pulls you out of your daze through asking, "Where do you want to go next?"
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
Minutes later, you both find yourselves hitting the road while you both belt out every lyric of Getaway Car. Mostly, it was Yoongi who handled the high notes, while you guffaw at him every time his voice ebbs gradually.
The succeeding songs that follow coops you to sway along the beats while Yoongi passionately sings every syllable of each song. You aren't surprised because after all, it was his playlist. Albeit you didn't know most of them, you were still able to lilt alongside, because his exuberance is contagious.
Every now and then he would let one of his hands release the wheel, walloping the air rhythmically. You requite the jubilant smiles he gives you every time your gazes collide.
You don't know for how long you've jammed with the radio but once a gasoline station appears in your vicinities, the energy eventually simmers and you both take your time to calm your breaths.
Yoongi skids the car to a halt and instructs the crew, while you unbuckle your seatbelt.
"I'll head for the convenience store now," you say, departing the vehicle.
Once you receive his nod of acknowledgement, you barrel towards the store with giddy steps, the glass doors instantly sliding open. You grab a basket and start snatching and shoving all necessities in it.
You approach the cashier after evaluating that you've gotten everything. As you drop the basket on the cashier, a hand sneaks its way up below your arm then swiftly shoots something into the basket.
"Lollipops? What are we, five, Yoongi?" You pivot around to face the culprit, who already has a sucker in his mouth.
He takes it out and goads you, "Oops, this one's been opened now. You have no choice but to pay for the pack."
To say that you're riled up is a lie because you're incapable of resisting to shake your head fondly and titter at his juvenile actions. You swiftly pay for the delicatessen and essentials before vamoosing the store to resume your way on the road.
This time, it's you who goes behind the wheel. Without a particular destination in mind, you let yourself listen to your instincts; to continue following the path that leads to the unknown.
Unlike the zestful playlist earlier, Yoongi put on a mellow playlist, inundating the ambience between you in snug silence. In your peripheral, you see the cadence taps of his fingers on his thighs while his eyes rove over the passing greenery.
You fracture the silence, experimentally proposing, "Move your hand away."
Yoongi gives you an inquisitive look before he espouses, leaning away from the car door. Then, you press a button and both of your windows roll down. You turn off the cooling system then turn the rotary button above the rear mirror to unbar the sunroof.
"Better?" you query with a soft smile.
"Anything is better," Yoongi admits. "But I can't hear the song now," he adds jokingly.
You giggle, clicking your tongue to which he regards you with a jest expression. "That means you should turn it up, Yoongs."
He finally discerns your message and switches up the mood of the radio. Once again, you're both lost in the ocean of your reveries, with Yoongi congruously leading the small concert session you're having.
You couldn't control the hysterics you're erupting whenever he exaggerates a certain lyric, even attempting to mimic the sounds of instruments. And if those didn't make you reach the peak of your convulsions, the strumming of his fingers on an imaginary guitar and the slapping of his hands on his knees to impersonate a drummer undoubtedly did the trick.
You both don't know for how long you were immersed in your plenary but you finally catch a glimpse of a small hut appearing in your line of sight. You slow down the car and notify, "I caught something on our radar."
Yoongi follows your gaze and accords, "Let's take a stop there."
He initiates to close the windows and sunroof while you focus on parking the truck on a muddy spot, leaving the cement road you were more accustomed to. Then, you both exit the vehicle. Before moving on, he takes both of your backpacks from the cargo bed. The sounds of engine and whirring wind are immediately replaced by the sounds of nature; croaking frogs, clucking chickens, chirping squirrels, tweeting birds, buzzing bees, and more.
Yoongi walks ahead, making a beeline for the hut. You both tramp on soil before finally stepping on the familiar material of wood. The place is almost a ramshackle but you can tell that its built is stalwart and probably withstood a lot of storms already so you didn't doubt that the hut will not collapse on you. Your eyes wander on the ceiling fan, stirring soft winds towards your face, then on the bamboo-made benches on either end of the hut. Yoongi ambles to the center where you finally take notice of the long wooden desk. You realize that the hut is a reception area.
Trailing behind his steps, Yoongi props an arm on the desk and begins to inquire the receptionist.
Your focus on their exchange falters as you survey your surroundings more, even squinting your eyes to try and make out what was beyond the forest. You hear words and sentences along the lines of one night, camping, waterfalls, and other accommodations.
You disconnect from your trance when you feel the softness of a palm land on the small of your back.
"Let's go?" Yoongi asks you with a soft smile when your eyes meet, and you merely nod.
The two of you leave the reception area and approach a trail of cobblestone stairs with moss serving as fleece of the steps. "So, what did the receptionist say?"
"I booked us a cabin for tonight," he informs, lifting a key fob for you to see. "She said there's kayaking on the river. And we have the option to hike to the waterfalls and dive first before doing so."
You hum in response and the conversation quiesces. He lets you walk ahead of him so that when you slip, he would be there to catch you. Occasionally, he would break the silence to alert you of accumulated moss on the steps and tell you to avoid them because they're slippery.
Once you finally reach a flat ground after trekking, you groan in fatigue, bending down to massage your knees while Yoongi situates himself beside you, looking down at you with amusement tinkling his eyes.
"Tired already?" he teases. "We're not even halfway through the day. Come on, slowpoke. We have a waterfall left to hike up."
You whine, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "Can you just do it alone instead? I can just take a video of you from below while you flail in the air like a fish."
He shots you a jokingly offended look. "Rude," he says.
"You started it!" you protest, crossing your arms and stomping your foot.
He chuckles, finding your little tantrum adorable. So, he pulls you to his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder while you continue to spew strings of curses at him.
Nevertheless, he doesn't let you go. He banters with you, and urges you to keep on walking.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
As soon as you and Yoongi checked into the cabin, and dressed into your swimming garments, you both barge outside the place deliriously and challenge each other on whoever reaches the river first.
You aren't keen on the idea at first because Yoongi has the favorable position of having better stamina than you do. But your smaller physique gave you the advantage of feasibly winning.
In fits of mirths, you relent yourselves into the adrenaline rush, excitement, and zealous passion to obtain triumph at the end of your friendly race.
After Yoongi counts down, you dash towards the cobblestones, and you can hear the vigorous footsteps of your friend trailing behind you. Both of your irregular breaths and unceasing giggles resonate through the forest, urging the both of you to speed up even more.
All throughout the race, you never looked back, casting all of your attention ahead of you to make sure that you also didn't slip because you might end up becoming a loafer if you get injured.
Eventually, your feet lands on a flat ground and the sound of your uneven breaths is drowned with the sudden sound of splashing water nearby. You look ahead of you, seeing the crystalline water reflecting the light of the sun towards you.
It blinds you for a moment then suddenly, a realization dawns on you. You pivot around and your eyebrows crease when you didn't see Yoongi.
He was just right behind me earlier.
As your eyes rove to look for a specific male with ginger hair, you don't detect the footsteps tiptoeing behind you. A yelp escapes your lips when you're lifted off the ground. You catch a glimpse of marmalade, confirming your intuition that it was no other than Yoongi who briefly took your ability to walk by yourself.
His gaiety rings in your ears as he carries you towards the direction of the river. You finally realize what he's about to do so you start wriggling in his hold, eyes enlarging.
"Oh, no, no, no! Yoongi! Don't you dare!"
Your warnings only intensify his scheme and the sight of the raging waters magnifies in your sight. You shut your eyes and brace yourself for the impact, and Yoongi throws you into the waves.
Your whole body submerges underneath, the air promptly unplugged. It reminds you of the sleepless nights in the suffocation of your own room. The nightmares of your failures replaying beyond your subconsciousness like a broken vinyl that's maladaptive.
You flounder beneath the waves before you finally found the momentum to swim above the surface.
When you open your eyes and gasp for air, the horrifying panoramas instantly subside. But that isn't what completely makes your ponderous heart repose. Because what greets you abovewater is the elated smiles of Yoongi, who you found swimming along with you in the spates of waves. His smile is as bright as his locks. And unlike you, he seems to be much more relaxed, as if he was very used to going along the course.
His touch is electrifying when his hands slither around your waist, hoisting you so that you wouldn't drown. Apparently, you were stunned and lost the ability to float yourself. Nonetheless, he still embraces you while you wrap your arms around his neck. You both follow the flow of the river.
It goes like that for a few seconds, and the seconds last ephemeral much to your dismay. As quick as the river flows, his warmth leaves you, causing you to feel a sudden void in your chest at the disconnection.
He swims towards the side, with you following suit, and hoists himself to sit on the grass before helping you to escape the ferocious waters.
You plop beside him, exhaust breaths leaving your lips. And once you've regained the regular pulsing of your heart, you punch Yoongi's shoulder. He yips, caressing his shoulder.
"Why'd you do that?" he bemoans, still stroking his skin that was starting to turn the darker shade of his hair.
"Because you threw me in the water!" You didn't mean to seethe, but your words came out that way so Yoongi actually pays attention to you this time, his pained expression swiftly morphing into genuine concern.
"Hey, are you mad? I'm sorry, I thought you would be up for it—"
"No!" you quickly stop him. "It's not that— fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound mean..." you peter off, sighing deeply.
"Are you okay?" Yoongi asks. His hand rests on your bare knee, and the mere action extinguishes your anxiety. His soothing touch lulls you into tranquility.
"Yeah, I am," you let out, and don't say more.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he prods you that manages to emit you the smallest of smiles.
You're touched by his gentleness. You turn your head to face him, your breath hitching momentarily once your round eyes collided with his feline ones. The ebullient expressions he had earlier are now gone. Worry creases his forehead instead and you resist the temptation to kiss it away at that moment, so you opt to look at his nose instead.
"Honestly, Yoongi," you begin. "The reason why I agreed so quickly to you when you told me to get ready because we're going on a trip is because I needed to take a break from life."
He hums, his focus solely on your face that it was making you feel exposed. You feel the shades of carnations coating your cheeks so you continue to speak in hopes of distracting yourself.
"It's nothing that serious, really," you half-lie. "I guess... I just remembered some of my blockmates who kept on freeloading. I caught all of the stress because, well, who would do the work if not me?"
You start to fidget with your fingers underneath the piercing gaze of your friend.
Yoongi sighs and you become aware of his hand on your knee which was drawing small circles. It left you a trail of goosebumps in your skin but you were glad that you had a convenient excuse to say if he notices.
"I'm sorry if I wasn't there for you in the times you were struggling."
Your head cranes up to look at him, eyes widening. His guilty gaze meets your appalled ones and you feel a painful tug in your chest.
"I swear, Yoongi," you reassure him. "It's nothing too deep. And it's not your fault. You didn't know."
"Still, I am sorry," he insists. "Because you remembered them because of me."
You quiver slightly because you interpreted his words differently. He still doesn't know about the real turmoil you're fighting inside. Now, your own guilt is gnawing at you because you just ruined the mood of the vacation. You two are supposed to be having fun and yet here you were, sulking because you couldn't keep your shit together. Because you're a drama queen who hyperbolizes everything.
Even you can't comprehend yourself.
You plant your face in your palms. "I'm sorry, Yoongi. I ruined the mood. We're supposed to be enjoying this getaway."
He pulls your hands off of your face and places his finger under your chin to lift it up. "Hey, don't blame yourself. It's okay. You know, whatever we do in this trip— cry, thrash, or laugh, I'll still cherish every moment of it because it's with you."
You swear you saw something different gleam behind his irises, but in a blink of an eye, it vanishes and you're left to mull on whether you were imagining things or not. However, your own heartstrings strummed as well, giving you no time to dwell anymore.
"Do you still wanna jump off the waterfall?" he asks you, halting your trance. "Maybe you'll feel better after doing so. You can leave all the negative emotions on top of the fall before diving."
"How can you make waterfall-diving sound so enticing?"
Your genuine question breaks the tension between you two and your nose scrunches in confusion when Yoongi chortles, shaking his head. He stands up, dusting the dirt from his soaked clothes before offering you his hand.
You enclose your fingers around his palm, relishing the warmth he instantly transfers from him to you.
Hand in hand, you both trek for the waterfall.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
Having an immense trust for Yoongi, you never doubt his advice that after free diving, your visceral will ameliorate. And it did the trick. Your worries that had been pummeling you hands you mercy, and you clamp your hand around it, even just for a moment.
By the time you both retire for the night in your cabin, the sun had done the same. The sky is smeared with ebony and grape tints. Wraiths in the form of moonlight whisper sweet dreams to the blanketed sun, wistfully wishing that the next morning will be lenient to you.
You volunteer to concoct dinner since it was your specialty and Yoongi is beyond ecstactic that he will finally get to have a taste of your "masterpiece" after awhile (as he claims) to which you only bashfully chuckle at.
As you start to gather the ingredients from earlier's mini grocery shopping, you hear Yoongi meandering around the small living room. Then, he stops and watches you for a few minutes with propped arms on the counter until he finally decides to take a quick shower and attempt to have a power nap.
When his presence leaves you all alone to your thoughts, you suddenly feel apprehensive about doing all this. But it was too late to back out now and it's only fair for your friend that it should be you who prepares your meal because it's where you're supposed to be good at. Shuddering lightly, you hope that it's because of the sudden blow of the night chilly air that nips at your skin and not because of another reason.
The knife in your hold shakes and you struggle to press it down on a bulb of garlic. You latch your wrist with your other free hand, hoping you will stop quivering. You clamp your eyes shut, placing the knife down on the cutting board as you try to regain your senses.
What's happening to you? Why are you so worried? It's only Yoongi.
Your eyes shoot open. Gradually, the ruthless poison ivy choking you relents, allowing you to breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth.
That's right. It's just Yoongi. And you have nothing to worry about with him.
You retrieve your strength and you finally proceed to make a meal without any intrusion. After what felt like hours, you're finally placing the two seasoned salmons in the oven. You squat in front of the appliance for awhile, puffing out small breaths because only then did your body registers your exhausted state.
Your hunched form causes your muscle fatigue, so you had to stand up right away to your dismay. You waddle towards the other side of the kitchen as you wait for the salmon to cook, and you start to clean up your station.
The stray strands of your hair keep falling on your face and every now and then, you had to throw your head back to get them out of the way. It becomes frustrating as each second passed by. As you drop the utensils on the sink, a few locks block your sight again. Huffing in annoyance, you were about to swat it away again when two hands appear in front of you out of nowhere.
They gather your strayed locks and nudge them into the back of your head. That's when you unexpectedly feel the presence of another warm body standing behind you. His soft breaths caress your cheek as he tilted his head slightly to check if he hadn't left any strand.
You still as Yoongi smoothly ties your hair, cheeks reddening at his initiative. You wonder how long had he been there witnessing your little distress. And the thought that he had been watching you let out whispers of profanities at the simple problem spurs your cheeks to warm further along with the peculiar feeling in your chest.
He pats your head fondly and you blink, turning your head to face him. Yoongi remains in his stance at your back, a soft smile painting his chapped lips. He tucks baby strands of your hair behind your ear and you suddenly wonder why you're incapable of speech.
Fortunately, he finally speaks, unconsciously intervening with the burgeoning typhoon in your heart that is still inexplicable to you.
"What's for dinner?"
"Salmon," is your implied verbose response yet he stays where he is, tipping his head as a way to prod you to elaborate. "Butter-baked salmon," you finally say.
He furrows his eyebrows in befuddlement. "You don't have a real name for it?"
"Huh?" you dumbly express.
With a cheeky grin, he playfully flicks your forehead. Your hand instinctively flats against it, stroking the skin. "What was that for?!" you squawk.
"You're just so out of it! Had it been awhile since you last cooked?" he pokes.
"It's been a week!" you confirm. "Semestral break, remember? And even so, that doesn't mean my cooking skills did decline!"
Your annoyed state comes across as whines to Yoongi and he couldn't resist pinching your cheeks for the second time that day. With your still stained hands, you couldn't retaliate so you stomp your feet and he finally surrenders. But not without giving you a last poke at your side.
"I swear, I'll give you the smaller piece!" you threaten.
Yoongi exaggeratingly gasps and wheedles you to forgive him. At his attempts, you playfully shake your head but when he offers to do the dishes that night, you finally yield.
And for the rest of the night which felt the longest one to you in awhile, instead of the poison ivy you've become desensitized to, you feel marigold flourishing in your heart instead.
They wrap around you in a manner that doesn't exhilarate you. It doesn't feel monotonous either. It's the perfect amount of ataraxy. You don't know if it's because of the meal you've prepared that tasted more than its usual savory, or if it's because of the serene ambience enveloping you.
Or, if it's because of the presence of the reassuring person sitting across you, the quintessence of solace of his words and stories that come across to you as poems and symphonies.
Your smile feels natural the moment you curve your lips upward when he tells you jokes. You feel at ease in expressing your astonishment or enthusiasm whenever he tells you a few of his anecdotes.
For once in awhile, you don't feel the dread of the night.
Because Min Yoongi is the beacon that lights your path that night in the infinite sea.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
The next day, with the sun at its summit, you're both back on the road. You both relish the congenial silence that envelopes the two of you, mellow tunes complementing the atmosphere.
After a few more kilometers, the air feels different. It's breezy, refreshing. And the roots of tall trees morph into beige grains. Opaque vicinities turning transparent as trunks slim and grow, then you can finally have a glimpse of blue waves crashing against the shore, the horizon becoming more evident to you.
"Wanna take a detour?"
Yoongi's suggestion is what breaks the long silence between you. He acknowledges your nod and minutes later you both find yourselves sitting on sand, sharing two boxes of fruit juice. The seagulls' squawks serves as your background noise for awhile before you suddenly blurt out a question before your brain even internalizes it.
"Are you happy?"
You feel Yoongi's gaze burning on your side profile. "Where's this coming from?"
"Nothing. I'm just curious, is all." You shrug nonchalantly, sipping on your juice.
Candidly, it is not the whole truth, because you're genuinely curious about Yoongi's well-being and current mental state. In the back of your mind, you wonder if he's also going through the same sufferings as you. Deep inside, you wonder if the cheerful attitude he's showing you is a facade, masking his true feelings.
You ponder if he sought you the way you sought him. Trepidation crawls over your skin because you're worried that maybe, you're not the suitable person to be with him at this moment. That maybe, you had been doing something wrong. It's vexatious that you can't help but think this way because you were, unfortunately, a veteran overthinker.
His voice fills your ears. "Well… if you're referring to right now, I can say that I am happy."
You furrow your eyebrows, scrutinizing the meaning behind his words. He might be hinting to you that he's going through something but when you glance over him, you don't see any indication of it. Come to think of it, he never told you why he wanted to "run away" with you in the first place. You were so fervid to escape your own shadows that you forgot to even ask what was Yoongi feeling.
Guilt gnaws you, nibbling your lip that draws rivulets of scarlet. You lick it away, the metallic taste soothing you momentarily.
You tread, gauging for his reaction inconspicuously. "When was the last time you felt sad?"
He takes a sip of his own juice then proceeds to look at the nutrition facts, as if they were the most interesting things at that moment.
"Just recently, when I had this project. We had to draw our own living rooms."
"That doesn't seem so bad. You're good at drawing. What happened?"
Yoongi meets your gaze, chuckling in a tone that you can't decipher whether it had a bitterness in it. "Well, I don't think I've mentioned this to you before but I'm extremely terrible in capturing depths and perspectives, and instilling them on my drawings."
"I didn't know you touched architecture too," is what you simply say. It's a safe response in case Yoongi doesn't feel comfortable to open up to you, but sufficient to also let him know that he can confide to you.
"Me neither." He licks his lips, an unreadable expression etched across his features. "Never expected it. That's why I was so stressed all throughout the process of it. I barely made the passing score, but don't worry. After a few days, I got over it."
Something tells your gut that he's convincing himself more than he's reassuring you. You decide to grant him a brief silence, basking the sea breeze kissing your cheeks softly.
"How do you feel about it now?" you bravely ask, keeping your eyes ahead.
It took him a few seconds before he finally answers, "I'm not dwelling on it that much as before now. And I think I should focus on doing my best at the field I'm good at, impressionism."
You hum, mulling over his response. Somehow, you feel the need and want to assure him.
"You're doing great, Yoongi. You worked hard for every grade you got. It's just that everyone has different standards."
Hypocrite.
You ignore the cruel voice in your head.
"Thank you, Y/N." You don't see his face but you can imagine the way his eyes light up at your words, his signature gummy smile painting his lips.
"Why are you curious all of a sudden though?"
His question catches you off-guard because he had already asked it before. You know that you're being a hypocrite because you can't divulge like he just did. You know it's unfair for him, but with how stubborn you are, you just can't allow yourself to open up your feelings because you can't forgive yourself.
You can't forgive yourself when you fail yourself. When you fail others. When you repeat the same mistakes. When you weren't there for the people who needed you during their shortcomings, because you're busy wallowing yourself in self-pity — even doing that makes you feel shit. When you do nothing to solve about your problems. When you run away instead. When you're happy. When you're sad.
So, of course, you push everything away. Because the one thing you allow yourself to do, is to give yourself a hard time. Because you think it's what you deserve.
So, of course, you dodge the question again.
"It's nothing, really. We weren't able to talk that much whenever we're busy with university, so I just wanted to catch up with you." You hope the smile that you return to him doesn't look forced because you can't afford another screw up.
The gut-wrenching swell on your chest further heightens, and you force yourself to swallow it.
"That's thoughtful of you. But, are you sure? You don't need to tell me anything?" He scoots closer towards you, his arm brushing against yours.
To say you're bewildered is an understatement. Because in that mere, small occurrence — at that featherlight action, Yoongi had once again manage to annihilate your asphyxiation, and you can finally breathe properly again.
"I really am okay, Yoongi. Don't worry about me."
Another half-lie and half-truth. You encage yourself in the prison walls you built yourself. But for some unfathomable reason, you have incognizantly constructed a door — a door so minuscule, and Yoongi had the key to it.
He unlocks the door and opens it, walking into the crevasses of your heart.
"I hope your words match your feelings. Please know that whenever you want to tell me anything, literally anything, I assure you that I'll listen."
This time, your smile reaches your eyes. "Thank you, Yoongi."
Whenever I'm ready. Alright.
You don't know when you'll ever be ready. But looking at Yoongi, you don't want to ever see him crestfallen. Therefore, the odds of not ever being ready was higher.
You don't want to drag him down along with you. Because the last thing that you ever desired is to see him in agony.
You want to protect your safe haven. Protect him from danger. Protect him from yourself.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
What you both planned to be a detour turns out to be the place you'll be spending your whole day at. The calm waves of clear waters on white sands, and the sapphire sky with white streaks made you two like fishes, successfully baited to stay.
Yoongi's busy setting up your tent while you sit quietly on one of your folding chairs, spectating your best friend's struggle. He would emit small irritated grunts every now and then, and mutter incoherent words to himself. Your lips would twitch into a smile whenever he unintentionally puckers his bottom lip or suck the air between his teeth.
You just sit there for awhile, admiring his presence before you finally decide to leave the comfort of your chair, ambling towards the still struggling Yoongi.
"Need help?" you quip, hands pocketed in your loose sports shorts.
From his squat position, Yoongi looks up to you, squinting his eyes because of the sunlight imparing his vision temporarily. His pout becomes more salient, emitting a giggle from you when he grumbles, "So nice of you to finally join me."
"Hey, I'm sorry, alright!" You bite your lip in attempt to halt your giggles. "I just thought you had everything under control like you said earlier."
Yoongi droops his eyes then leaves his position, now towering over your smaller form. The sudden swing of confidence from a few seconds ago instantly dwindles now that he's standing a head taller over you. Nonetheless, you cross your arms, hoping that the sassy action will mask your sudden nervousness.
What a weird feeling. You think to yourself.
"Oh yeah?" he lazily voices, taking a bold step closer to you, diminishing the distance between your warm bodies in an alarming amount.
Your feet stay planted on the ground and you wonder why you don't move an inch away from him.
He whispers balefully, "You wanna see how I have things under my control?"
You stare up at him with curious doe eyes. And then, his ominous gaze shifts into fright. His eyes leave yours and trails down before he unexpectedly shrieks, "There's a crab! It's going to snap your toes!"
You vociferate a shrill ear-splitting scream, resonating throughout the broad beach. Jumping and bounding into Yoongi, you shrink against his chest, both of your feet gliding against the mounds of sands. Deep laughter rumbles from his pectus but quickly disrupts as you both gravitate towards the ground. Yoongi falls on his back with a yelp while you follow, landing on top of him.
He grunts below you, his hands falling on both sides of your waist.
You don't realize the position you're both in for you keep clutching on his knitted cardigan, crawling above him in terror, hoping to escape the crab.
But when you look ahead your feet, you see nothing but sand. That doesn't derail your palpitating heart. Your eyes mimic that of a vagabond, desperately trying to look for the snappy creature because frankly, not seeing the enemy is a ton worse than seeing it.
Alas, you don't see the creature and you halt your panicky state, the realization finally dawning on you.
There wasn't any crab in the first place.
Yoongi only bluffed. And now, you find yourself in a strange, nerve-wracking situation.
When you muster the courage to look up at him, he's already staring, mirth and mischief glimmering from his irises. Your heartrate pounds against your chest, and you desperately wish that the clothes serving as the only barricades between you two are doing their best in concealing your palpitations.
His heavy-lidded eyes are locked with yours, freezing you in your place. The galaxy in his eyes are absorbing you further to get lost in his gaze like a blackhole slowly but surely swirling around you. You can see a lot of stories hidden within the depths of his pupils but they're out of your reach because of their nebulosity.
It doesn't feel real to you when he nudges his face closer toward yours, decreasing the gap between your faces until—
CAW!
You scramble to your feet in surprise, looking up to see a crow flying in circles around the two of you. Meanwhile, Yoongi groans, still flat against the sand. You shoot a glare at him, grabbing a fistful of sand and pummeling it towards him. The grains hit his face and he coughs and sneezes, earning a giggle from you.
"Not the face!" he exclaims, rising to his own feet, stumbling in the process. He glowers at you while you only blow a raspberry at him.
"You seem giddy now." He cackles, dusting the sand off of his outfit. "You should've seen your face— you were so frightened, it's so hilarious!"
You smack the back of his head and he yips, leaping away from your reach.
"Not a word, Yoongi!" you squall. "Why would you lie about a crab that was about to snip my feet?!"
"You started it!" he protests, flailing his arms. You attempt to swing a kick at him but he expertly dodges it, grabbing the opportunity to pull your arm and flush you against his chest.
The familiar and odd feeling of your heart hammering against your ribcage returns. But Yoongi seems oblivious to your (once again) frozen state as he ruffles your hair playfully.
You squirm in his hold and when he finally releases you, you regain the usual pulsation of your heartbeat. You're starting to consider consulting a doctor after the getaway because you've been having these heart palpitations for awhile now.
Yoongi leaves you with your thoughts, hollering ahead of you, "We better set the tent quicker! The sun's about to descend."
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
Two hours later, the tent is standing robustly on the sand and the firewood is crackling flames. It's your second night of the trip. Comfortable silence accompanies your sunset-gazing, watching the sun gradually disappear below the horizon until the sky is left with plum and indigo pigment streaks.
Yoongi clears his throat that pulls you out of your reverie, shifting your attention to him. He's toasting your marshmallow on a stick.
The flames complement his hair color, making him resemble an angel. He's glowing underneath the obsidian sky, his ethereal features more prominent.
He's so pretty.
"A penny for your thoughts?" His breathy and husky voice ushers you to look at his face, and you feel your cheeks warm, as if you were a deer caught on headlights.
"Why'd you choose red-orange?"
It's truly a part of what you've been thinking about, but you also didn't want Yoongi to think that you were a creep for staring at him for so long.
"Why? Does it look weirder the more you look at it?" He hands your marshmallow, the top slightly burnt then skims his fingers along his ginger locks.
You munch on the soft mallow while murmuring your response, "Oh, no. I'm just wondering 'cause the last time I saw you, it was a darker shade."
Yoongi hums thoughtfully, leaning back against the folding chair with both of his hands raising to rest behind his head. He presses his lips into a thin line, mirroring a certain keyboard symbol.
"Do you want the short and simple version or the long and in-depth one?" he finally says.
You scoff lightly, bemused at his question. Your reaction causes him to chuckle, ushering you to pick one already.
"Both," you decide.
"Oh, you're really not letting me get away from this, huh." He raises an amused eyebrow at you, smile never leaving his lips as he bites on his own marshmallow.
"Yeah, well, I'm really curious, okay! Now, shoot your story." You beckon, spreading your arms sassily.
"Okay." He chortles at the action before shifting his expression to a serious one.
"Well, I personally don't like how orange looks next to my skin. While red, is too strong. It makes me look like a devil."
You muse, "But red-orange doesn't seem too far from both colors."
"Yeah, I know. But for me, the shade made a big difference."
"That's some deep shit right there."
Your comment makes him scoff, while you give him a brazen smirk. Truthfully, what he said seemed like a quote to you. It reminds you that the smallest things really did have the biggest impacts sometimes.
It makes you wonder if Yoongi saw you that way. If you're one of the small parts of his life that contributes greatly to his overall well-being and continuous personality and attitude development. Or perhaps if you belonged in a bigger scale, a very significant person in his life.
Just like how he is that person to you.
"Okay, but really, why that color?" you finally ask for the deeper explanation.
He doesn't answer you immediately and you think that maybe he's trying to formulate a comprehensible explanation.
Then, he finally replies, "I guess it's because the two colors evoke some sort of emotions from me." He licks his lips and you heed that his gaze started to wander everywhere, a little habit of his that you've noticed that he does whenever he's nervous.
"I don't know if it makes any sense, maybe it's a visual arts student thing, but red reminds me a lot about my passion for art, you know. But I still didn't go for that solid color because like I said earlier, people might perceive me as a delinquent."
He pauses and lets out a laugh that is neither bitter nor sweet, so you can't tell what exactly he felt at telling you the last sentence.
He continues, "Anyways, while orange... it's a product of red and yellow. Aside from passion, red may mean hostility or anger, and such vehement emotions, while yellow is the opposite. It's optimistic, upbeat, hopeful. And they balance each other, don't you think?"
He stops again to gaze at you, eyes finally steady and you're aware that he had become less uptight, his words seemingly flowing seamlessly.
His last words are what makes you truly awestruck. Because they strucked a certain chord in your heartstrings that had it swelling. It's painful, raw, and consoling all at the same time.
"Because they have something in common. Warmth and comfort."
The silence that blankets the both of you is homely. His words process in your mind, the gears turning in your brain while he only stares at you, patiently waiting for your response.
Truth behold, you were rendered speechless. And you couldn't equal his lyrical interpretation so all you say is,
"I never imagined that you had such profound outlook on colors."
He nods in agreement, sending you a soft smile that quilts your heart with warmth.
"Me neither, I mean at first, of course. But the more I studied art, the more I fell in love with it," he explains, his feline eyes sparkling and you could see how feverish he is with his passion.
"It keeps me... level-headed too, if you know what I mean. Sometimes, life throws shit at you and you have to find that one thing that keeps you in the surface. For my case, it's art."
He ends it there, the denouement so clear yet so ambiguous at the same time. Yoongi truly amazed you. His words are so compelling that you can't help but surrender to him.
"What about you?"
You're taken aback by his question so you dumbly say, "Huh. What about me?"
He chuckles at your befuddlement, "Silly, I told you about my major. It's fair you also tell me yours."
"Oh, so you're a strong believer of an eye for an eye." Your remark renders him into a fit of giggles, the notes of his laughters becoming your lullaby.
"Funny, but no. I just want to know as well, since we both kinda have similar majors. Culinary is art too."
You release a deep sigh and accord, "Yeah, it is. But I look at it way differently than you do. I focus more on the precision of food preparation, make sure that there isn't a single blotch present on the plating because one stray dot, or a mere grain of rice falling from its place—" You shake your head, "—ruins the whole dish. You could say that I'm a perfectionist freak."
"Damn," Yoongi peters off before asking, "If you look at it that way though... doesn't it stress you more?"
"If I don't look at it that way, it would upset the customers."
Your answer makes him silent. You don't know if he's aware of your perturbation. But if he is, he doesn't show it through his actions.
"But have you ever thought of the instance that maybe the customers wouldn't be too disappointed because, well, surely they will recognize the effort you've put in to serve them a dish that will appeal them."
He obliviously shows it through his words. It's another bullseye to you and you wonder if you're that so easy to read. Or, if Yoongi just really knew the right words to say.
"I haven't... thought about it that way..." you admit, nibbling on your bottom lip.
You're absolutely aware that your anxiety is becoming more and more evident with the way you were fidgetting with your hands, your body quivering slightly both because of the chilly air and that certain feeling crawling up on your skin once again.
"Mm, not everything has to be perfect, Y/N. But, it's also not wrong to aim being a perfectionist. It's the way how you do it. If you're open to mistakes and failure, it gives you more chances to improve. Failing is also a part of perfecting. They go hand in hand."
His voice keeps you grounded and you don't realize that you've been holding your breath until you feel Yoongi's soft palm resting over yours that had been fisting your sweat pants.
"You're making me cry, Yoongi. Why do you have to be such a deep talker?" You try to make it sound like you're joking, but your voice brittles at the end.
There was no way to hide what you're truly feeling now. Yoongi isn't dense, you know that.
But it makes you feel pathetic. You feel like you didn't deserve to cry there and then, because if you break at that moment, everything you've ever held in will account for nothing.
"I'm sorry," he genuinely says, drawing small circles on the back of your hand. "I don't mean to make you cry."
"Yeah, I know." You laugh bitterly, the next words falling into whispers, "You always know what to say... it's breaking and easing me at the same time..."
Yoongi doesn't catch what you said.
"What's that?"
"Nothing, I just said that I know it wasn't your intention." You blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. Then, with the most unfeigned smile you could muster, you bravely face him. "And don't worry, I'm not actually gonna cry. It's a metaphor."
You're glad that it's dark because Yoongi takes the bait. At least, that's what you think.
"Are you gonna start speaking in figures of speech?"
"Oh, shut up," you say, chortling at his jest.
The heavy tension soon simmers, and you're grateful that you didn't fall apart in front of Yoongi. But of course, you're also incognizant.
You're oblivious of the fact that he knows that deep inside of yourself, you wanted to collapse. That you wanted to break free from your own shadows at that moment. That you yearned to forgive yourself.
But you still couldn't so he gives you your own space. Even though he severely wanted to yell at you right there and then — scold you to stop giving yourself a hard time. To stop putting him in a pedestal. He wanted you to know that he also has his own flaws. He wanted to let you know that you were perfectly imperfect.
But he didn't explode to you that night, because he wants to treat you with the utmost care as much as possible. He wants to be patient with you — wait for you until you can finally let yourself loose.
He will gently guide you — light your path, and lead you slowly but surely to fully embrace both your flaws and strengths. Be your sanctuary. He wants you to feel what you've been making him feel.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
You're in the middle of the dark waters once again. Like the other night, the familiar serpent crawls over your legs, hurling you deeper and deeper into the abyss.
The pressure that rings in your ears feel all too real, the memories of your failures echoing around you while you desperately try to search for the source of the deafening voices.
Underneath the torrential waves, you furrow your eyebrows, because all the voices sounded the same. Too familiar. It's thunderous, the distinct roar making you wince.
And then everything turns bright.
You don't feel yourself floating. Instead, you were lying comfortably on a bed of flowers. The petals tickle your cheeks, causing you to smile at the sensation. It's so warm, so reassuring.
The flowers begin to feel real in your hold and you can't stop yourself from caressing their softness. It's too real, too tangible.
When you open your eyes, you feel something heaving against your face. It's soft and tepid, almost lulling you back to slumber.
Yoongi's hands feel like home around your sides. And your own hands fit perfectly around his waist. You feel like two missing puzzle pieces that had finally found their pair.
His soft breaths kiss the top of your head. Carefully craning your head upwards, the sight of Yoongi's serene state welcomes you. His lips are slightly parted and his face is relieved of all kinds of creases and wrinkles.
In your hazy state in a too early morning, you bury your face into his chest, his heartbeat serving as your lullaby as you slowly fall back into the most peaceful slumber you've ever had in the longest time.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
When the skies are sapphire and the sun is painting everything on its way vibrantly, Yoongi drives until the blue waters disappear from sight, until the white sands turn into green meadows.
He drives along the long path until you leave the outskirts, and the familiarity of small establishments appear in your eyesights.
You both had end up in a small town so Yoongi slows down the car to give you both the time to admire the architecture styles of each building.
"I like how old-fashioned this town is," Yoongi comments and you nod in agreement.
"We should make a stop here," you suggest to which he immediately concurs.
He drives into a pay parking area and when both of your feet had landed on the gravel stones, you stretch your sore limbs that had been in the same idled position for hours.
Yoongi laughs at you and you shoot him a questionable gaze. "What's so funny? Aren't you aching?"
He shakes his head. "It's nothing, and I'm fine."
Yoongi thinks you're cute but he doesn't tell you that.
You shrug and say, "Suit yourself."
"Come on, let's make the most of our time." Yoongi offers you his hand to which you immediately interlace with yours. Your gaze lingers on your intertwined fingers for a beat longer than usual.
You're reminded of the time he pulled you around the clothing store, the fond memory still clear in your mind. Lips curving upward, you don't notice it until Yoongi points it out.
"What's with the smile?"
"I can smell coffee, I'm craving for it!" You smoothly dodge while Yoongi sniffs the air.
"You have a strong sense of smell," he muses.
This time, it's you who pulls him along, leading the way as you follow the aroma of coffee bean and apple cinnamon.
The bell dings upon your entrance to the coffee shop. In broad daylight, only a few tables are occupied because usually, the cafe's rush hours are during the nights.
"A medium Vanilla Cold Brew, no whipped cream, and less ice. And a tall Iced Americano, no water, with one shot of heavy cream and two pumps of vanilla syrup," you tell the cashier.
Beside you, Yoongi looks down on you with pure adoration in his eyes. When you two walk to the other end of the counter, you give him an inquisitive gaze.
"What?"
You watch as he stops fending his signature gummy smile from emerging. "You've memorized my order?"
You don't even realize how much of a surprisal that is to Yoongi. While you're confounded for a moment, he takes the leisure to map out the cute creases on your eyebrows and engrave them in his memory before he gently presses a thumb between your brows.
"It's what you always order whenever we have coffee break after school, how could I not remember it?"
He shakes his head at your nescience, his smile lines still visible to you. "What if I ask you why didn't you order your usual pastry to-go as well? Cheese rolls?"
Your cheeks suddenly feel warm despite of the frosty temperature inside the coffee shop. Now, you're aware of the meaning behind his words.
Chewing on your bottom lip, you mumble, "Well... they didn't have your favorite... Blueberry scones... So, I didn't want to eat without you doing so too."
A few moments ago, Yoongi could still feel his own heart beating against his chest. But now, he's certain that it had jumped away from his ribcage and took shelter in you.
But he doesn't tell you that.
Instead, he compliments you, "That's thoughtful of you, Y/N."
Your name rolls on his lips seamlessly, sounding like a melody to your ears. The thumping of your heart intensifies that you turn around to avoid Yoongi's piercing gaze.
What is going on with me?
At the same time, your name is called, the barista handing your orders. You nimbly take the tray and the both of you slide into a booth by the window to enjoy your caffeine drinks.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
By night time, the streets outside are crowded. Oceans of people bustle inside the cafe. You also both realized that you had been chatting away all your hours inside. However, both of you don't complain. Because you'd never ran out of topics.
With being in each other's presence, you both think that time is too short.
Yoongi leads you outside the coffee shop, the frigid air almost knocking you off your feet. The two of you navigate your way amongst the swarming people until Yoongi halts, and you almost crash against his back.
You peek over your shoulder and now you understand why Yoongi had stopped.
Lots of strings of lanterns hang above you, serving as stars to light up the onyx sky. Rows of food trucks and stalls fill the road with tons of various street foods displayed, luring you to check them all out.
"Hotteok!" you exclaim and pat your friend's arm excitedly, pointing at the nearest food truck.
Yoongi giggles, his gums in display, while you pull him to line up for the hotteok.
After obtaining the desired food, your eyes catch another delicacy, bungeoppang — and another, mandu — then another, tteokbokki— and another and another, the list going on. Before you both knew it, both of yours and Yoongi's hands are filled with paper cups and barbecue sticks.
Your cheeks are full, garbling words as you point another food stall.
As you take the first step to skip, Yoongi wraps an arm around you. Mildly confused, you look up at him to see him bowing apologetically to a stranger.
You swallow the fishcake before asking him, "What was that?"
Yoongi's soft reassuring smile comes into view. "It's nothing. We almost bumped into him."
"Oh, sorry, Yoongi. I didn't see him." You pout, casting your gaze down while he presses the back of his hand against your lower lip.
"It's okay. It wasn't a big deal," he reassures you.
Your smile returns and you both resume your food adventure.
For what seems like hours, you both try out every single street food in the bazaar. When you plop against one of the outdoor picnic benches, that's when you instantly feel the soreness of your legs.
Yoongi groans across you, massaging his knees. You volunteer to dispose all of your garbage since more than half of the cups and sticks that had food earlier are now chilling in the walls of your stomach.
You give Yoongi a smile before skipping away with the litters in your hands, searching for the nearest bin in the dark.
Squinting your eyes, you finally find one and skip towards it, shoving everything inside.
You were about to walk away but then you feel an ominous hunch in your gut when you can faintly hear footsteps crunching leaves behind you. They start to get louder as each second passed by before finally, you find the strength in your limbs to start walking when the footsteps stopped.
The baleful feeling in your chest doesn't spurn when the sound of the same footsteps return, trailing behind you — urging you to fasten your pace.
You're only a few away from reaching the crowded outdoor seating area and if you speed up only a tad bit, you'll be able to reach safety—
"Hey, over here, man!"
A stranger calls out, making you look at him. He runs towards your direction, passing by your back. And you grab the chance to sprint.
You run with the adrenaline rush coursing through your nerves, serving as the fuel to spur you faster.
The back of Yoongi comes into your line of sight that you impulsively yell—
"Yoongi!"
You crash into his chest, arms enveloping around his waist as you bury your head into the crook of his neck, ragged breaths escaping from your lips.
"Woah— hey. What happened?" Yoongi instinctively rubs your back soothingly, reciprocating your actions.
"Nothing," you blatantly lie. "Can we... stay like this for awhile?"
"Of course, but... you're worrying me, Y/N."
Yoongi doesn't object your sudden request. He could've relished the warmth you're giving him but he's more concerned about what happened to you. Taking deep breaths, Yoongi continues to rub your back, ushering you to follow his breathing pattern that will hopefully calm you down.
"I'm sorry," you say after you've regained your normal breathing. "It's just... I thought someone was following me."
"What?" You feel his body tense.
"Please don't look!" You tighten your grip around him. "I'm okay now," you continue in a calmer tone. "I didn't see him but he may have passed by us already."
Yoongi's chest heaves up and down, a deep exhale rumbling from his throat.
"I'm sorry for letting you go out there alone. I should've just gone myself instead."
"Hey, don't blame yourself, Yoongi. I volunteered to do it because you were already tired. And it's my fault, anyway. I shouldn't have recklessly—"
A string snaps in your heart, the maim provoking agony; it suddenly feels like you're having a difficult time breathing again. The only anchor you have is Yoongi at this moment. But, he's also the person you've now hurt.
"Don't be ridiculous, Y/N," he disrupts you, pulling away to look at you properly. His eyes are coated with pain, worry, ire, and sadness all at once. You can't decide which one is the worst. But they all make you cower under his gaze.
"You can't possibly be blaming yourself over something that obviously wasn't your fault," he rebukes, his fiery gaze scorching you. "Stop making it an unhealthy habit of throwing yourself under the bus. Do you understand what could've happened if you had gotten kidnap? Are you still going to beat yourself up if you end up in that kind of situation?! Not the one who wronged you?! Why can't you..." His tone simmers. "Why can't you forgive yourself?"
The bullet penetrates your skin. It feels so real, too real. Moreover, it's because Yoongi was the one behind the gun. And after hesitating for a lot of times, against his conscience, he finally pulls the trigger.
You can't even process his words; they blur along your vision. They dim until you can no longer see his face. Your hot tears had finally spilled and you surrender, clutching Yoongi's shirt and convulsing against him.
And he stays with you, never leaving your side as you submit yourself wholly into a state of vulnerability. The bottle that you've closed and kept for so long falls on the ground and crumbles, shards lacerating your skin.
"Why..." you choke out as you attempt to speak. "Why... is it so hard... to be happy, Yoongi?"
Vehement hot tears incessantly spill from your eyes, your sobs amplifying in the now almost-empty outdoor seating area. Yoongi makes you look at him, your red swollen eyes causing his heart to ache.
"You have to understand that happiness doesn't come instantaneous, Y/N," he tells you sweetly, with the utmost delicate tone laced in his voice. He lulls you to his saccharine smile, his hand tucking the strays of your hair and resting against your soft cheek. A simple action that protects you from peril.
Yoongi flutters his eyes close as he rests his forehead against yours. He whispers, "The wheel has to keep on turning, Y/N. Without sadness, you can never attain happiness. It takes time, and I promise you, everything will be worth it once you reach the top of the wheel."
You choke out a sob, leaning against his warmth, gripping tightly on his shirt as you brokenly say, "But it's too much, Yoongi... It hurts too much because I feel like I'm stuck at the bottom of the wheel. I can't push it to move."
He hushes your cries, wiping the tears away from your tainted cheeks. His touch is intricate, handling you as if you were a glass that must be treated with the utmost care and protection. "Maybe because you've been pushing the brakes for too long. Tell me, Y/N." He leans away to lift your chin up.
Your gazes collide like supernova, and suddenly all you can see and feel is him. You can see yourself in his glossy irises, mirroring your own pains, and you can't help but flush yourself against his chest, afraid that he might slip away from you too.
"When was the last time you allowed yourself to feel?"
His question draws you to dig within the trenches of your subconsciousness, but you can't remember anything. You can't recall the last time you've opened your arms to your own vulnerability. Because the answer is a long time ago.
And you realize how much you've kept everything inside. A small bottle where you locked all of your painful encounters away. The discernment a little too late that the container had overflown, and you spilled everything out convulsively.
The weight of the whole world seems to lift itself away from your shoulders, and now all you feel at this moment, with Yoongi by your side, is relief. Finally, a moment when breathing doesn't feel like you're getting asphyxiated.
When your loud sobs simmers to soft cries, Yoongi takes your hand and leads you both back into the car. He helps you get inside, protecting your head by hovering his hand on top of it.
By the time he's already behind the wheel, you've stopped crying. The bags under your eyes feel heavy, your energy drained from all the sobbing that you can only look ahead of you with a faraway gaze.
You feel Yoongi rest his hand on top of yours, his warmth instantly channeling to your body. It emits you a miniscule smile — barely even there but he catches it even in the dark.
Because for Yoongi, you're his light.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
Your hands are interlaced ever since Yoongi drove away from the town. They're resting on top of your thigh and your eyes linger on them for what felt like minutes before you trail your gaze to Yoongi's side profile.
You take in his beautiful features; his vermilion locks, pale round cheeks, his feline eyes that had the color of honey, irises swirling like sweet nectar — last but never the least, his pouty pink lips glimmering under the ascending sun, looking so soft and shiny, the temptation luring your mind to wander in your fantasies; how will it feel like pressing yours against his. Will it taste saccharine or salty? Will it slot against yours perfectly?
The beating of your heart drowns the sound of the throttling engine. And suddenly, everything to you makes sense. Your currently rising heartrate, the peculiar feeling of something fluttering in your abdomen, the electrifying tingles you constantly feel whenever your skin would connect with his.
His mere presence that is the epitome of your haven, your home, your —
Love.
It feels too overwhelming that you sharply retract your hand away from his and you look away, forcing yourself to watch the passing nature in your eyes.
"What's wrong?"
Yoongi's soothing tone warms you, but the heart-shaped lump that rises on your throat is difficult to swallow.
With shut eyes, you mumble, "Nothing. I just need some sleep."
You convince yourself more than you assure him, pushing away the inundating thoughts of his smile, his laughter, his mere voice sounding like music to your ears. Forcing yourself to sleep, it took you what felt like hours to do so.
When you woke up, you find yourself alone in the passenger's seat. The empty seat beside you slightly makes you feel lonely with a hint of relief. Because truthfully, your heart nerves are still erratically beating.
In attempts to calm yourself, you exit the vehicle and bask under the cold air that instantly nips your skin. It only takes you seconds to realize that you had a stop over in a gasoline station.
You realize that you had been zoning out when Yoongi ambles out of the store, two plastic bags in his hands. His marmalade hair steals your attention straight away. Shaking your head out of your daze, he invites you to sit on the cargo bed to have breakfast.
After hoisting both of yourselves behind, you make sure to leave a sufficient amount of space between you. Then, you both quietly eat your store-bought sandwiches.
Albeit the ambience around you is still, the sun barely rising from the horizon, your heart is undergoing a series of fluctuations. Every beating sound reverberates in your ears. Your mind is going haywire, spinning and whirling like a mayhem—
"How are you feeling?"
Yoongi's sudden question makes you flinch slightly. Looking for any sign that he noticed your distress, you see that he doesn't show it. The battering of your heart against your ribcage relents for now.
You swallow thickly, "I'm... better."
It's partly the truth. Truthfully, you're feeling a lot better after your breakdown last night. But, today, you're facing a different battle. It's different from the usual ones you have, and you have no idea how to deal with it.
It's a new feeling — both frightening and consoling. You're in a fight or flight situation.
"That's good to hear." He looks at you and you're instantly trapped under his gaze.
His smile is back, smile lines accentuating his beauty marks underneathe the honey rays.
"Remember, Y/N," he speaks to you tenderly. "One step at a time. Alright?"
You nod mutely, staring as he lifts one of his hand to tuck a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His knuckles brush againts your cheeks, rendering you to pull away from his touch, break the eye-contact, and look away.
The frown that etches his features comes unnoticed to you. Nevertheless, Yoongi respects your space, and reluctantly retracts his hand that was about to reach and touch you.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
Yoongi drives with you in the backseat of the truck. He keeps checking on you in the rear view mirror, fingers tapping on the stirring wheel. He can't seem to feel at ease. He had been fidgetting in his seat for the past half an hour, pouty lips protruding and cheeks hollowed.
Meanwhile, you have been doing your very best to avoid the questionable and piercing glances being thrown at you by your best friend.
Best friend. That's right, Y/N. You have to protect your friendship. Don't surrender yourself to your feelings again.
You keep replaying your mantra in your head again and again, hoping that your newfound feelings for Yoongi dissipates.
If only it was that easy.
A few more hours fly by, and the sun is finally at its crest. Yoongi parks in front of a diner while you swiftly unbuckle your seatbelt and exit the car with the engine still revving.
You were about to enter the diner when the call of your name halts you.
Your body tenses but you turn around to see Yoongi jogging after you.
"Hey—" He pants as if he had been on a marathon for hours. The truth is, his heart is also racing because you've been acting strange for the past few hours.
"Y/N, can we talk?"
You don't answer immediately, nibbling your lower lip. His eyes fall on your lips for a fleeting moment before forcing himself to look at your eyes instead when you nod your head.
"Have I done something to upset you?"
"No!" You quickly protest. "Why would you think that?"
Yoongi fiddles with his fingers, releasing a soft sigh. He contemplates whether on he should take a step closer to you or not. He wants you to be within his reach but he's uncertain if you'll allow him. Yet, he takes the risk, anyway.
"It's just..." He decreases the distance between you by an inch. "You've been distant since this morning."
You stay frozen in your place, your eyes looking everywhere but him. Yoongi takes your silence as the confirmation.
"So, there is something. What is it, Y/N? Is this about last night? Can you tell me? So that I'll never do it again."
He takes another step closer to you, but you push him away again by taking a step backward.
"That's not what I want, YoongI!" You flail your arms. Then, your tone wanes. "I... That's not the issue at all..." you stammer.
"What then?" Yoongi's heart cracks slightly, bracing for your verdict.
"I want you to keep doing it but..." you trail off. Shutting your eyes, you muster every bit of your courage to tell him. "I just hate myself for interpreting it differently when you've been doing it ever since we've become best friends."
"I'm not following, Y/N."
"Of course, you aren't!" You retort again. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to keep yourself level-headed. "I have to say it myself now, don't I? And this... might mark the ending of our friendship." Your voice fades, brittling slightly at the end.
"Why are you saying that?"
"Because I'm in love with you, Yoongi! I have been in love with you ever since before the moment I even realized it..."
Your heart combusts, and you realize that it was too late to take back your words. So, with every fiber in your body, you bravely meet his eyes.
"You're the warmth that I always seek for. Your gentleness and your tender touch... whenever you lace your fingers with mine, I can't help but stray towards the thought that maybe... you might feel the same way."
You sniffle lightly, your tears already welling up for the second time within twenty-four hours.
"But I know we're only friends, Yoongi. And you've been doing all those things— caring for me, spending time with me, affirming me, treating me— everything! And now, I have just made things complicated and I'm scared that you will just stop doing all of those. Because now, something changed."
You lower your head in shame, fisting your hands and closing your eyes. A few drop of tears falls to the ground, the spots turning the asphalt shades darker.
It's silent. Too silent. And you were about to take it as the indication that that was it — that everything is now over when—
"And what if I told you that you thought right?"
Your eyes snap open, head craning to look at Yoongi.
"What if I told you that my heart yearns for only you and nobody else?" he confesses, taking a bold step closer to you. This time, you don't push him away.
"You said it yourself, it wouldn't make any sense for me to stay close to you when I don't see you more than just... a friend. What if I told you that I had been longing for something more between us?"
Another step closer. "That the thought of making you mine crossed my mind a lot of times?"
Another step closer. "What if I told you that I love you? But not in the way I've said it before. I love you, Y/N. More than it encompasses friendship, more than as a partner— a lover."
He breathes deeply, and he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. "I wished there was a better word than love for me to be able to express what I truly feel for you."
You're truly stupefied. Not being able to utter a single word to his confession. Yoongi looks at you in a way that you've seen a lot of times from him already.
It's the same enamored eyes, the tender touches, the compassionate actions, the solaceful words.
"Just say the word, Y/N," he whispers. "And I'm all yours."
You concede, reaching to cup his cheek. He flutters his eyes close, leaning to your touch before you stand on your tiptoes and press your lips delicately on his.
You've traced everything — every feature of his lips, mapped out his smile lines and etched them into your mind. But until this very moment, your thoughts never did any justice into capturing the details of how warm and feathery it would feel to slot your lips in his.
He kisses you like his whole life depended on it.
He kisses you as if this was going to be the last time he'll feel your unwavering warmth morphing with his.
He kisses you delicately, taking his own time to explore every crevice of your soul — inhaling your vanilla scent, and ingraining them into his memory.
And you kiss him back with as much ardor.
You reciprocate every languid and fiery ember he gives you.
It was a long, long kiss full of passion, and love. It transcends the mind, the heart, and the soul. Every note and rhythm of each pulsating kiss is heartquaking.
Your heart spills unwanted tears, tainting your cheeks that Yoongi had to pull away, his warmth distinctively leaving you.
"I can't..." you brokenly say.
"Y/N..."
The shattered call of your name crushes your heart into pieces.
"Yoongi, I can't do this to you..." Hot tears spill from your eyes, the sensation burning every trail it falls into. "I'm broken and I don't want you fixing me. You can't be with someone who can't even love themselves—"
Yoongi hushes you, cupping your cheeks and making you look at him.
"Y/N, I don't care if... if we both end up getting broken. I'd rather be broken with you than spend my whole life in happiness, knowing that you aren't by my side. I don't care how much more we become destroyed because we can build ourselves again.
It doesn't matter if we fall again, because it's a part of the process. Each time we fall, we'll learn choosing the right bricks to use. We can keep building until we reach the top and nothing can ever maim us again."
Yoongi sighs deeply, burying his hand into the back of your head. He brings you into his embrace and you welcome it with open arms.
However, the turmoil within you doesn't cease. Because this isn't what Yoongi deserved. As much as you were touched by his loving words, you still couldn't grasp around them.
You pull away completely from his touch, forcing yourself to be valorous.
This is your own battle.
And you will continue to fight it even if Yoongi isn't by your side.
Because it's what you feel that is right.
When your gazes collide, he immediately understands the look in your eyes. Although it's breaking his heart, he understands you and he will respect your decision.
But he makes a promise to you that sunrise, below the rays that are about to ascend.
"I will wait for you."
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
You remember everything from that day as clear as the moment it ended. His shattered expression, his glossy irises shedding his own tears. His broken smile as he waved you goodbye.
You couldn't stay with him any longer because if you did, even for a mere second, you will crumble and fall apart, and surrender under him.
But you didn't want that. You didn't want Yoongi having to deal with your broken state.
You want to make things right. You want to be deserving of his love. You want to be the right person for him.
Even if it means letting yourself fall again beneath the chasm.
But now, you have a newfound strength. And you will wield it the right way this time. You will brave against every storm that strikes you.
You will brave against yourself — your own voice that you hear in your nightmares every time the moon made its apparition.
Because now, you have someone by your side, even it wasn't physically.
Before you dream, it's his smile that appears in your mind, the very last thing you see before you fall into slumber.
After you dream, it's his laughter that you hear first thing in the morning before you open your eyes.
While you are dreaming, it's him that you see in the depths of your shadows, the light at the end of the tunnel.
︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶
The emerald leaves turn into sepia, dry ones descending and blanketing the asphalt. Vibrant colors morph into bold, homely and strong ones, gold and red that carpet the grass. Mist and fog waft the air, the once warm weather shifting to a frosty one.
It is the season of change. Autumn.
You've never enjoyed the breeze of the certain season until now. Puffing out small ice breaths, you smile as the leaves crunch smoothly and melodically into your ears. Your long coat barely does its job of warming you. Nonetheless, you enjoy the sudden shift of temperature.
It's a very significant day for you. It's the day where your life drastically changed — the same day from three years ago. The day you opened a new chapter in your life.
Upon your arrival, the people around you greet you with warm smiles and small bows. You reciprocate their gestures, then begin to survey your surroundings. Various shades of orange and red embellish the interior of the building, with several origamis of leaves and birds beautifying the ceilings.
Intricate strings of small pumpkin ornaments hang by the windows, along with the apricot fairy lights twinkling and lighting up the place with hues of tangerines.
"Good morning, ma'am."
The voice of your employee pulls you out of your daze. You give her a smile of gratitude. "You guys have done well as usual. The decorations are fitting and amazing."
"Thank you, ma'am!" She gratefully bows to you.
"And happy anniversary," you greet her.
She reciprocates your greeting then leaves you to your own thoughts. It's the opening anniversary of your self-made restaurant, the one thing you've been focusing on for the past three years. It had become your own safe haven because of the smiles of your customers that they give you before they step foot out of the restaurant. It's soothing in your nerves because you feel fulfilled whenever you send them away happily.
The air around you feels refreshing, and you inhale the aroma of pumpkin spices and apple pies.
It's a significant day for you not only for this reason but something else.
An art gallery had recently opened a few months ago, but you weren't able to check it out because of how busy you had been with your business. For some unfathomable reason, every time you passed by the gallery, a peculiar invisible string keeps on pulling you.
And today, you're going to find out what is that enigmatic essence luring you. You bid your staff a farewell before stepping out into the autumn air once again.
Your feet leads you into the familiar but new establishment. Standing before the entrance, you admire the bold calligraphed letters in the gradient of roses and marigolds, green vines wrapping around each letter that spelled the art gallery's name.
Gravitating towards it, you finally step foot inside the building. Your eyes wander every art piece, from portraits to landscapes, even architectural pieces before your eyes catch a glimpse of a certain painting.
Delicate strokes of blue and white smear the sky, mixtures of pigments that are beyond your comprehension creating the illusion of clear waters. And most importantly, the figure in the middle. She looks all too familiar to you. She had a cosmic smile on her face, lips curved upward, the intricate details of her cupid bow prominent. As if the artist had specifically gave much more attention to her facial features more than the landscape itself.
And unlike every other masterpiece with women adorned in extravagant dresses, the girl in the painting, instead, donned a cream-colored sweatshirt, and black shorts ending right above her knees.
Of course, you know this girl all too well.
Because it's you.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?"
The strum of familiar baritone strings fills your ears. You don't need to look to know who it is. Because his voice had been inscribed into your memory. He still sounds the same since the last time you've heard him. But more homely, warmer, deeper, more melodic.
"She is," you affirm.
"But she'll be more stunning today."
Your lips twitches into a smile. "Have you seen the model yet?"
"No," he answers. "She hasn't let me yet."
Your eyes slowly leave the painting before you, shifting to your left in an agonizingly slow manner. You take your time until you finally see his profile.
Yoongi was still the same. The same since the day you left him.
His hair was still the strong shade of red-orange, styled handsomely so that none of the fringes conceal his face. His feline eyes seem more fuller than before, more contented, happier. Amongst the galaxies that your eyes can make out, you see your own reflection. And you've never felt belonged into his eyes until this moment.
His cheeks are more defined, manly, but he still has the same lips — the lips you've once had a taste of. Looking so soft, plump, and pink. A suit dons his body, enhancing his manly and handsome features.
He is the epitome of beauty.
You finally reach out a hand to him. His gaze lingers for a beat longer before he interlaces his hand with yours. You both immediately relish each other's warmth, reveling on the moment that you two had finally found both of your ways back home.
You to him.
And him to you.
With the most genuine smile that traces your lips, you say,
"Let's run away."
22 notes · View notes
izzy-b-hands · 1 year
Text
Crossed
Weird roadtrip au kind of thing??? in small random scenes?
TW for a moment of emetophobia in one scene
eventual steddyhands.
pls know that this entire fic literally only stemmed from me thinking abt Con doing that arm around the passenger seat thing while backing up a car and going 😳 😍👀 over it. That's it. It's been three days ajsndnfngn
anyway pls enjoy
---
"I don't mind driving," Izzy mocks himself. "Why did you say that? Why would you ever say that?"
"Do you not like driving?"
Izzy jumps at the sound of Frenchie's voice. "Thought you were helping order food."
"There's a slight argument over fries and them being salted or not," Frenchie says. "And it was getting..."
"Uncomfortable?"
"Putting it mildly considering it's literally just fries and Roach literally carries packets of salt and pepper and other stuff with him because...well, Roach," Frenchie replies. "I think we've been in the car too long."
They have, all of them, almost definitely. But Stede insisted that a cross country trip to a country none of them had been to would be good for them all. Bonding and fun and freedom!
Except he chose the United States, aka the biggest fucking desert of a country Izzy's ever had the displeasure to drive through. Not that it's all actually desert of course, but with how far away some cities are from the next, it may as well be.
Add in highway hypnosis now in the prairie states, and Izzy...Izzy is done.
"We've got to get to California yet," Izzy says. "Or Washington. Not sure if Stede and Ed have finally decided."
"How close are we?"
"We," Izzy announces as he peers at the maps app on his phone. "Are currently in Minnesota. That is approximately...1,400 miles and some change away. If we drive without stopping, it says we could get there in less than a day."
"Yeah, in an empty car that'll roll off a cliff into the sea," Frenchie snorts. "Well, not empty I guess. I think we'll all have killed each other by then, without a single break. So our corpses would be in there. Bloodstained windows the only sign of life as we roll through town..."
Izzy stares at Frenchie. "I think we should stick to taking breaks."
"Probably should."
--
"Seriously?" Izzy scoffs. "We were pulled to the side of the road before I started eating! The car is off!"
"All I see is a driver, in the driver's seat, eating. That's illegal here," the cop replies, shoving a ticket at him. "Not sure what else you expected."
"I expected after hours of driving while my food got cold, I could pull into an empty gravel fucking field near the highway and eat," Izzy scowls.
The cop studies him. "Step out of the car."
"Oh for fuck's sake-"
"Sir, I do not appreciate that tone. Out of the car, now."
Izzy looks back to his sleeping companions, all apparently out hard enough that none of this has so much as made them blink an eye open.
He steps out and hands over everything the cop asks for, down to his passport. Then he leans on the car and waits while everything is looked over.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
"What on earth are you doing out there?"
Izzy peers into the car. "How did you get to the front seat, Bonnet?"
"Crawled."
"Why?"
Stede pauses. "I'm not sure. I think I was still half asleep."
"Well, I'm in trouble for daring to eat in a stopped vehicle," Izzy mutters. "Asshole has been over at his car for ages now, 'checking documentation.' Surprised he didn't ask for-"
"Sir?" the cop trundles over. "I'm gonna need the paperwork for everyone in the car, and I've called a drug dog as I have reason to suspect you might be carrying something we don't want in this state."
Izzy gestures to Stede. "See?"
Stede clambers out of the driver's side door awkwardly to stand by Izzy. "Let me handle this! Sir, sir! I need to speak with you about this before you escalate things!"
The cop turns to them. "I'm escalating things?! Who the fuck even are you; where did you come from?"
Stede scoffs. "The car! Where else? Now this is a silly misunderstanding and I want this resolved!"
The cop blinks, then smirks with a lick of his lips. "Everyone out of the car."
"What?" Stede asks, clearly aghast.
"OUT OF THE CAR, NOW!"
"What did you two do?" Ed asks groggily as everyone makes a half asleep panic dash out of the car.
"I was eating," Izzy replies. It's not a lie.
"I got out of the car," Stede says.
Also not a lie.
Ed frowns. "I don't believe either of you, but I'm too cold and tired to dig into this. Can we just bribe him and leave?"
"Ed!" Stede hisses, then pauses. "Oh. You did read about that being done in the States now and again, didn't you?"
"I did. We don't plan to come back here, right?"
"Absolutely not," Izzy says, before Stede can make any differing plans for them.
"Then let's try it," Ed sighs, arms wrapped around himself in his oversized hoodie. "I want to go back to sleep. At this rate, I might be doing that in a jail cell no matter what."
Stede is the one to step forward, a couple of hundreds in his palm. "Um. Sir?"
Ten minutes later, they're a few hundred poorer and back on the road.
"Thank fuck that worked," Ed sighs in the backseat, snuggled against Wee John and Frenchie. "Now hopefully he doesn't realise those are the fakes Frenchie made up."
Stede, now up front in the passenger seat beside Izzy, shoots him a look.
Izzy presses the gas pedal slightly harder, and focuses on how many miles are left to get them out of North Dakota.
--
"Why is this place so much?" The Swede mutters. "Too much land."
"Too much to drive across," Izzy agrees. "They all out again?"
The Swede nods towards the backseat. "Think the food at the diner did it. So much food..."
"Stede wants us to experience the richness of the country," Izzy sighs. "And that was all certainly rich."
"He kept the leftovers in the cooler," The Swede mutters. "I can't. Maybe tomorrow I could try more, but I don't think I'll even be hungry for dinner."
"Buttons will eat whatever the rest of us can't," Izzy says. "Buttons with his iron stomach."
There's a tense pause, and Izzy instinctively slows the car just slightly.
"About to be sick?" The Swede asks. "Me too."
"Yup, give me a second to get us pulled off the road."
--
"We've decided on Washington!" Ed announces. "For sure this time."
"Please," Izzy mutters. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, you can put this town into the GPS," Stede adds, handing over a sticky note with a hastily scribbled name on it.
"This isn't in Washington," Izzy says. "This is in Oregon."
"Portland?" Stede wrinkles his nose. "No, we have it right."
"There was some sketch show literally set there," Jim says. "With the town name in the show name. That made clear the town is in Oregon."
"Was it any good?" Roach asks.
"I'm curious too," Stede says.
"Look," Izzy says, just loud enough to be heard over the beginning din. "I will drive to one state. Choose one. Google the fucking city and make sure of where it is. Otherwise I decide which city we stop at."
"Geez, fine Dad," Frenchie snorts. "Will you turn the car around next?"
"Yeah," Izzy whips around in his seat to stare Frenchie down. "Yeah. I fuckin' will. And then we'll have to spend another fucking...I don't even know how many hours in this car!"
He regrets it immediately. "Fuck. Frenchie, I'm sorry. And Bonnet-"
"No," Stede hesitates. "This was maybe too much all at once."
"No, it," Izzy splutters. "It... I'm just tired."
"I think we all are," Fang says softly. "Why don't we find an actual hotel instead of sleeping in the car, and start fresh tomorrow?"
"I can cover it," Izzy says, and puts the car back into gear before anyone can argue. Normally he'd have no wish to stay any longer in a place as bland as Idaho, but desperate times and desperate measures.
--
"Izzy," Stede sighs. "What is this I hear about you not buying yourself a room?"
"I'm good in the car," Izzy says through a mouthful of stale danish stolen from an ice cold brunch platter in the hotel lobby. "I haven't gotten to fully lay down in the backseat once yet. I'm excited for it."
"You're not serious."
"As serious as I am about stealing the rest of these when the clerk goes back into their office," Izzy gestures towards the remaining four danishes. "Fucking starving."
"I noticed you didn't eat much at the last drive thru," Stede says, arms crossed, bouncing lightly on his feet. "What's that about?"
"Only had time for a bite if we wanted to stay on schedule," Izzy replies. "And I wasn't going to try and eat in the car again after that last incident."
"Come on," Stede holds out his hand. "You accidentally got Ed and I a room with two queens."
"So long as you two are in there, yeah."
Stede snorts. "Well, we need a third one in there with us."
"You're okay sharing a bed with me?"
"What on earth do you mean?" Stede asks. "Ed-"
"Likes to sprawl out. And hasn't been able to for days on end. I got you two beds in the room for a reason."
"He'll end up on one alone, stretched out every which way," Stede says. "Never mind, good call."
"You still want to share with me?"
"I am not letting you sleep in the car," Stede replies, and snags his hand. "Forget the danishes. I told the clerk to switch out your credit card for mine for the rest of the charges on our room. They have room service until midnight, and it's only ten right now..."
"You'll spoil me," Izzy chuckles, but he's happily surprised. "I am sorry. About the thing in the car. This hasn't been all bad by any stretch."
"Yeah, but it has been...intense," Stede says as they wait for an elevator. "Maybe next trip, we pick one city and stay there for a week, hm?"
"Where do you have in mind?"
"I don't know. New Orleans?"
"It'll either be amazing or a complete disaster," Izzy says. "As long as someone else does more of the driving, I'll go."
"Good," Stede grins as they step into the first elevator and head up to the twelfth floor. "It might be an amazing disaster, you know."
"True," Izzy smiles.
"I was planning to give Ed a blowjob in Storyville, so long as I can find an appropriate place for it," Stede continues, leading Izzy out of the elevator and towards their room. "I'd love to do the same for you."
"What?"
"Iz!" Ed shouts as Stede opens the door. "I'm glad you listened to him and came up!"
"Did you hear him?" Izzy asks.
"About the blowjobs? Yeah," Ed smiles. "Come lay down! We've got bad movies to watch and room service to order."
"Okay," Izzy lets the tension flow out of his shoulders for the first time in days. "That all sounds good...blowjob included."
--
"This," Izzy sighs. "Isn't bad at all."
"That's it?" Ed giggles. "Poetry, Iz."
"Shush," Izzy scolds him playfully, tucked against him by Ed's arm around his waist.
On his other side is Bonnet, taking in the view of the sea from the grass and rocks near West Point Lighthouse.
"It was worth it," Frenchie says as he and Wee John pass by them to head back closer to the lighthouse. "By the way. Thanks for this, Stede."
"And Izzy, for doing so much driving!" Stede adds as they walk away. "Ah. Sorry about that."
"S'alright," Izzy says. "I know they're glad they didn't have to do much of it."
"I know it's sort of cold," Ed says. "But you guys wanna sit here for a little bit longer?"
Stede nods. "Everyone is either doing the same or wandering it seems. I think we have the time."
They carefully settle themselves down onto the ground, before resuming their previous snuggle.
"I know we had planned to fly out in the next day or so," Izzy says. "But maybe we stay an extra few days."
"I told you he was still having fun," Ed faux whispers and gently jabs Stede. "See?"
"I think that would be lovely," Stede smiles. "We'll get some hotel rooms and make another few days of it here."
Izzy nods and lets himself fully relax into Ed, listening to the crash of the waves.
9 notes · View notes
raemanzu · 1 year
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I posted 3,885 times in 2022
17 posts created (0%)
3,868 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@tearlessrain
@propheticfire
@derinthescarletpescatarian
@ladyyatexel
@binaryystars
I tagged 1,659 of my posts in 2022
#the untamed - 153 posts
#cats - 148 posts
#zexal - 117 posts
#yugioh - 106 posts
#i need a gx tag - 44 posts
#good omens - 36 posts
#bugs - 33 posts
#commander cody - 29 posts
#science - 29 posts
#sabikui bisco - 27 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#this post came back to haunt me while we were driving home from a fruit stand and the watermelon and cantaloupe kept thumping around in the
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
ofc the day I finally get my top surgery date set is the first day in months that I feel utterly ambushed by Bad Brain for the first half of the day before getting the phone call lol. Anyway I’m initiating operation flatness at the end of January woop woop. 
3 notes - Posted November 30, 2022
#4
sometimes love is a quiet spoon
because metal scraped against ceramic
is painful to sensitive, half-sleeping ears
sometimes love is trusting
enough to say "hey, this hurts"
what to some might seem foolish or small
and love is listening
finding ways to live more gently
and to need more honestly
and to say
okay
I will try something new
so here is to compostable plastic spoons
kept from a trip to IKEA
they are now a tool of affection
just a small way for me to make life
a little easier to walk through
and every morning
a wordless prayer
over my cereal
sleep well
wake gently
know that you're safe here
4 notes - Posted September 27, 2022
#3
Good Omens Fanfic: The Gospel of Crowley (Chapter 13)
“I asked God about you.”
Crowley’s stomach plunged through the earth and he steeled himself. That is, he tried to steel himself, but could not find much steely within to summon.
“Eh?” he croaked. He cleared his throat. “That so.”
Jesus’ expression was complicated, brow furrowed, mouth twisted somewhere between a weak smile and a pensive frown.
“I’m still trying to figure out the answer. But here’s what I think it is.”
—–
An AU where Crowley and Aziraphale end up a bit more involved in Jesus’ life than they intended. Begins around the Nativity, hits upon various points in Jesus’ childhood and the rest of his life and death. Kids have always been easy for Crowley to interact with, but what about the literal son of God?
So, wow... it’s been ages. This chapter was sitting around waiting for edits for a while and now we can finally share it! It may be a while before the next update since the next chapter is only half written... but we do intend to continue. We love this story a lot.
Preview: 
           Rain fell heavily on the thirsty earth, and it was too dry to drink it. Huge stretches of rock and brush were submerged in pools of runoff, wide temporary rivers cutting new paths in the dust, and the desert became muted, colors blurred and softened under the dark grey sky.
           There was no pressing reason for Crowley to be out here, standing underneath his tree. It certainly didn’t need watering, and its roots were holding well. Still, an inner compass had pulled him ever closer in his restless wanderings along the washed-out road, and the scent of the fruit, gone bright in the rain, had done the rest.
           He sat in the lower branches now, listening to the loud patter of fat drops on glossy leaves. It was peaceful. He kept his eyes closed, or watched the movement of the muddy water below. He tried not to remember. At one point, his eyes tracked the crawling of a tiny bedraggled fig wasp, its wings too heavy for flight.
           Wet footsteps below brought him out of his trance.
           “What are you doing out here?” Crowley asked before he even saw Jesus.
Read it on AO3
5 notes - Posted July 1, 2022
#2
Did not anticipate just how much being trapped at home with covid in the early summer would make me want to be able to go shirtless all the time but it really does. Why do my nipples have to be female presenting.
5 notes - Posted June 2, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
We Don’t Talk About Vector
(Just after Nasch and Rio remember they’re barians, but before remembering that Vector killed them, they ask the other barians if they can trust Vector or not)
We don’t talk about Vector, no, no, no!
We don’t talk about Vector… but
(Gilag and Alito)
We were invading earth
[We were invading earth]
Just possessing humans and we thought things were goin’ just fine
[thought this was our time to shine]
Vector shows up in this middle school getup
[LITTLE PUNK]
You telling this story or am I?
[Sorry bro, my bad, go on.]
Vector tanned Alito’s hide
[that so-called Shingetsu Rei]
I swore I’d carry on his fight
[wish I’d seen it a mile away]
Vector got Yuma on his side
[what a surprise that tricky bastard LIED]
We don’t talk about Vector, no, no, no!
We don’t talk about Vector!
(Durbe)
We’ve gone centuries putting up with his audacity
His bragging and his brashness push our patience past capacity
But I must admit, that in your absence, he’s made plans….
Plans that while elaborate have proved that he’s intelligent
And whate’er his motive is the outcome’s to our benefit
But then again, he is a master at all sleight of hand
Do you understand?
(Mizael)
See the full post
45 notes - Posted April 21, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
1 note · View note
slasherhaven · 3 years
Note
Hi! Can you Do a Bo Sinclair soulmate imagine where the reader meets him while she’s with Carly, Wade, Nick, and the rest? Maybe where you feel your soulmates pain, or something. Sorry if this is too specific lol.
Bo Sinclair X Reader
Soulmate AU: shared pain and shared scars:
You had been friends with Carly for a little while now, which was how you got invited on the group’s road trip. You weren’t a massive fan of football and didn’t care much about the game you were going to see but you thought that getting away could be a little fun.
It was the night before the game when the group decided to camp out for the night and keep driving in the morning. After setting up the tents, you all sat around with drinks, talking among yourselves. 
As the group talked and laughed, you held your wrist in your hand, gently tracing the faint scarring with your thumb, an absentminded habit you had developed years ago. 
“Damn, they look nasty” Nick’s voice made you look away from the others and towards him, seeing how he eyed your wrists. 
“Leave her alone, Nick” Carly scolded her brother, already knowing about the scars you had received due to your unfortunate soulmate. 
“Are they yours?” Nick asked, completely ignoring his sister. You weren’t sure whether he was genuinely curious or actually trying to get under your skin. 
“...no” you answered honestly. 
“Unlucky bastard” Nick muttered before turning his attention back to his drink, like your conversation never even happened.
With everyone’s attention going back to more light-hearted conversation, you looked down at your scarred wrist and sighed. 
Carly had once asked you if you held any resentment for your soulmate, as have others in your life, and you had been perfectly honest with all of them. You held no resentment, you weren’t angry with your soulmate, you were nothing but sympathetic towards them. It wasn’t their fault that somebody hurt them like this, you just hoped that they had been able to get away from it.
Though, you doubted it. The injuries aren’t as frequent as they were in childhood, however they still occurred and they could be pretty bad. Once, you had even woken up in the middle of the night, bleeding from what looked like a knife wound.
“Here” Carly’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, making you look up to see her standing beside you with a smile. You returned her smile and accepted the can of beer she held out to you.
Opening the can, you hissed slightly as your thumb slipped and you cut yourself on the sharp metal, cursing your own clumsiness. You brought your thumb up to your mouth before lowering it again, taking a sip of your drink. 
“Ah shit” Bo quietly cursed at the sudden stinging sensation in his thumb, it wasn’t particularly painful, just a shock.
He lifted his hand, noticing the slight cut on his thumb, and sighed. His soulmate must have done something stupid but he couldn’t find it within him to feel annoyed about it, not after everything he must have put them through.
He would probably be returning the favour pretty soon, since Lester had informed him of a group camping out nearby, they should be coming into town pretty soon. 
-
After the car broke down and everyone decided that there was nothing they could do to fix it, a man named Lester had offered to take three of you into a nearby town so that you could visit the garage there. So, you, Carly, and wade ended up walking into the town that Lester had left you on the outskirts on.
Walking under the hot Louisiana sun, you had to pull your jacket off and tie the sleeves around your waist. The three of you headed straight to the garage, which was easy to find, but found that there was nobody there. 
“Maybe there will be someone in the church?” Wade suggested, nodding towards the church at the end of the street.
“I’ll stay here in case someone comes back” you offered, thinking that the owner that Lester mentioned could be back any minute. 
“You sure?” Carly asked, not too sure about leaving you alone in a strange place. 
“What’s the worst that could happen?” you shrugged.
Carly and Wade nodded before heading to the church to find somebody who could help while you waited at the garage.
You sat down on the curb, glancing around the street. From where you were sitting, the church was just out of sight but you could see the top of the Wax Museum in the slight distance. Ambrose was a small town, extremely quiet. It almost seemed empty, only the sound of birds flying overhead breaking the silence. 
After a little while of waiting, you started to wonder why your two friends hadn’t come back. Surely they would have found somebody by now and if they hadn’t you thought they would come to tell you that. You were just about to go looking for them when footsteps caught your attention. You looked in the direction of the church, seeing a man in a full black suit walking towards you.
You paused for a moment, just staring at him as he approached. It felt like the air was sucked from your lungs, like the earth stood still just for a moment. The strange feeling was all consuming, you didn’t notice the falter in his steps that suggested that he might have experienced something similar. The sensation reminded you of the description Carly had given you when she was explaining what it’s like to meet your soulmate. Though his casualness in his following question made you doubt it. 
“Can I help you?” the man asked with a charming southern drawl. 
“Do you work here?” you asked as you stood up, dusting off your shorts. 
“Own the place” he nodded before walking over to the garage and unlocking the front door. “Are you here with two friends? I didn’t catch their names” he asked, nodding at you to follow him inside. 
“Yeah, Carly and Wade. You saw them?” you nodded as you followed him into the garage, feeling some relief to be out of the harsh sun. 
“Said they needed a fan belt, I sent them up to the wax museum to kill some time before I could help them. Didn’t realise they left someone else waiting here” he explained. You frowned a little, it would have been nice of them to have let you know rather than just leaving alone on the curb. 
Shaking the thought away, you put another smile on your face. “I’m Y/n, by the way” you introduced yourself politely, holding your hand out for him to shake. 
“Bo Sinclair” he introduced himself and took your hand, giving you a firm hand shake. His charismatic smile remained on his face, something closer to a smirk than a friendly smile. His name spoken in that alluring southern accent. You simply couldn’t help but be a little charmed by him.
His smirk faltered for a moment as he glanced down at your hands, noticing the scars that wrapped around your wrists. He paused for a moment, holding your hand a little too long as his gaze lingered on the scars. 
Bo didn’t comment on it, so the small feeling you had that his man could possibly be your soulmate left your mind. There was no way he didn’t recognise them if he had the same ones. They were too unique.
In that case, you figured his staring was just because of the scarring. You had experienced people staring at them from time to time, wondering how you got them, but you never let it bother you. You weren’t ashamed of them. 
Bo plastered the smirk back on his face as he released your hand. He couldn’t help but catch himself stare a little. You didn’t hide the scarring like he did. Yours were also a little fainter than his, probably because you had them tended too properly unlike him and they healed better. The intense, all consuming, feeling from earlier and now seeing the scars so similar to his own. It couldn’t be a coincidence... 
“You seem a little over dressed for a mechanic” you commented to break the awkwardness, understanding the tension that had developed but the two of you seemed to move past it relatively easily. 
“I was at a funeral before you’re two friends crashed it over a goddamn fanbelt” Bo told you, irritation clear in his voice. You couldn’t blame him in the slightest. 
“Oh...I’m so sorry” you apologised on behalf of your friends, now feeling a little bad for dragging him away to fix up your car. “Who did you loose, if you don’t mind me asking?” you asked, hoping to be sympathetic without prying too much. 
“My mother” Bo told you, making you even more apologetic. 
“I’m so sorry...about my friends and that you have to fix our car” you frowned, feeling even more awful than before. 
“Ain’t your fault, darlin’“ Bo assured you, truly not seeming angry with you. 
You couldn’t help but blush a little at the petname, you just couldn’t deny feeling an attraction towards this man. Having felt an instant connection to him. It was strange, and you were already finding yourself a little longing, knowing you’ll have to leave once the car was sorted. 
“C’mon, let’s see if I can find that fanbelt for you” Bo’s smirk quickly returned as he gestured you to follow him further into the garage. “One of your friends told me what size you needed” he informed you as he started searching through his supply of fanbelts. “And...we don’t have it” he hummed.
“You don’t? What now?” you asked with a frown, having no idea what you were supposed to do now. Where the hell were Carly and Wade?
“Don’t worry, no need to frown, sweetheart. We have the rest of the delivery up at the house, we’ll have the right size for ya” Bo assured you with a charming wink.
“You could have lead with that” you chuckled to yourself, feeling relieved and trying to ignore the way he had winked at you.
“C’mon, we’ll go up to the house and get it for ya. I’ll get my brother to tow your car and we’ll get you all sorted” he told you, quickly putting you at ease and making you feel like everything was going to work you.
“Thank you so much, Bo” you sighed, giving him a sincere smile.
“It’s not a problem” Bo nodded. “We’ll take my truck, it’s just outside” he informed you, placing a hand between your shoulder blades as he guided you outside.
The two of you got into his truck and Bo started driving towards his house. Normally this would be something that you would be suspicious about but something about him put you at ease.
“Those scars of yours...they’re pretty intense” Bo finally commented on them, he needed to know what you had to say. “They yours?” he asked, reminding you a little of your talk with Nick the night before.
“No, they’re my soulmate’s” you told him, gently rubbing your wrists.
“You must have really ripped into him when you met them, huh?” he joked half-heartedly, something in his tone that made you curious.
“Oh, I haven’t met them...but I wouldn’t rip into them” you frowned at the accusation. “I’ve had these scars since childhood, which means they likely did too...it’s not their fault somebody hurt them. I’m not angry at them at all” you shook your head, clearly meaning every word you said.
“I’d be pretty pissed” Bo scoffed before his voice softened slightly, “but you’re probably a good person.”
“They were hurt by somebody, how can I be angry at them for that? I’m angry at whoever did it to them...honestly, I just hope they’re alright now” you confessed. “Just wanna give them a hug, y’know?” you laughed lightly.
“I hope my soulmate feels the same as you, they’ve probably been through hell because of me” Bo told you.
You weren't sure what that meant, of course. You didn't know what Bo had been through to worry about his soulmate's reaction to him like that but you were sure your soulmate had some similar concerns and you didn't want to pry further.
“They won’t be mad at you” you promised him with a smile.
Bo gave you a slight smile as he pulled up outside of his house, the way he looked at you leaving you curious. You couldn't quite explain it.
As Bo and you climbed out of the truck, Bo knew that you were his soulmate and that he couldn't let you go. A part of him had been relieved to hear that you didn't harbour any resentment towards him but he knew that if you didn't hate him now, you certainly would by the end of the day.
Still, Bo was selfish. He could let his soulmate, especially such a good one like you, slip between his fingers. You were his, and you had come home. He wouldn't be letting you leave any time soon.
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sleep-i-ness · 3 years
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Wrong Door (Sirius Black x reader)
Synopsis: Your roommate wakes you up in the middle of the night because she can’t get into the flat. Or so you think. (Muggle AU) FOR MY 500 WRITING CHALLENGE
A/N: do not follow what reader does in this in real life. IF SOMEBODY PASSES OUT DRUNK AND DOESN’T WAKE UP, CALL AN AMBULANCE (usa people i don’t know what you do. call an uber to the hospital?)
WARNINGS: Alcohol, really shitty first aid, swearing
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BANG! Y/N bolted upright. Fuck, were they being burgled? She checked her watch, groaning at the time. It was 3 in the bloody morning and she had an 8am class. She swore lightly under her breath; she’d clearly fallen asleep while studying on the sofa, a textbook on her lap and an empty bottle of wine in her hand.
She wasn’t one for going out in middle of the week, unlike her roommate Marlene, so being woken up in the early hours of the morning was a common occurrence. Usually Marlene would just stumble back into the apartment, tripping over everything lying in her way. Tonight, she had clearly decided to break the fucking door down.
Y/N heard a key fiddling at the door, and she sighed. That was when the pounding on the door started. Time for her to go help Marlene out.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she grumbled, extracting herself from the cocoon of sheets and cushions.
The banging didn’t lessen, and Y/N groaned as black patches clouded her vision momentarily. Mentally reminding herself to grab some water on the way back from the door, she trudged over to the hallway, propping herself against the wall for two seconds as she swayed slightly. Her fingers clasped around the latch and she pulled it, swinging the door open.
“You’re not Marlene.”
“You’re not James. Did he bring you over or something?” The brunette stranger rambled, pushing past her as he stumbled into the apartment. Y/N was too taken aback to protest at first, watching the man walk in as if he owned the place. “You can close the door, y’know. I didn’t bring back a girl this time because James said he’d literally kill me if I kept him up again. What a hypocrite.”
The man reached out to hang his jacket on an empty patch of wall, staring at it blankly when it fell onto the floor. He tried again, feeling for a hook that didn’t exist and Y/N watched him confusedly from where she stood by the still-open door.
“What on earth are you doing in my flat?” She found her voice at last; his audacity was astounding!
“Your flat? Love, just because James brought you over once doesn’t mean you can start claiming our stuff,” he seemed almost affronted, slurring his words as he let his jacket be on the floor. 
“No, this is my flat that I share with my roommate Marlene. Who the fuck is James? And, more importantly, who the fuck are you?” Y/N had to admit, she was getting a little riled at this point. This drunk man had just waltzed in and begun claiming the place as if she didn’t exist.
The man opened his mouth to protest before taking a good long look at the coral walls and pictures that hung all over them. He closed his mouth, paused, and turned to look at the hall table with their tatty fringed lampshade and geometric-print table runner. Y/N could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain as he stared bemusedly at the room.
“Fuck. This isn’t my flat. Where am I?” He seemed honestly and completely confounded, scrunching his face up.
“You’re near Kensington, we’re a few roads back from the high street and the market. This flat block is number 48-53?” Y/N gesticulated as she tried to explain where exactly her apartment lay.
She was too busy explaining to notice the queasy expression spreading across the man’s face. He shoved back past her to stick his head out her door and promptly throw up all over her front step. Disgusting. And she was going to have to clean it up! He swayed back and forth, before collapsing backwards, narrowly avoiding falling feet-first into a pile of his own vomit. Y/N contemplated just leaving him there and shutting the door on him. But she knew deep down she’d sorely regret it if any harm came to him because she refused to help him. It wasn’t the dodgiest of areas, but the nights were bitterly cold.
“Hey,” she tapped him on his shoulders, calling upon her memories of first aid and how to deal with a drunk person. He didn’t stir, even as her taps got harder and she decided to take her chances and slapped him straight across the face. She gasped as a red handprint bloomed on his cheek, yet he still didn’t wake up. Hand still stinging, Y/N grabbed his arms, heaving as she attempted to pull him inside. Managing to pull him into the living room, she gently rolled him into the recovery position, ensuring that he was still breathing and that he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. A dead man in her living room would be difficult to explain to her flatmate.
Y/N trudged to the kitchen, dragging her feet along as she pinched her eyelids to try and keep herself awake. She just needed to grab a glass of water to help with tomorrow’s inevitable hangover and a blanket for the drunkard. Somehow, she managed to complete the task, leaving her standing over the man now covered in her biggest blanket. She knew that she should go back to her room, but it just seemed so far, her legs protesting at the thought of moving an inch. Besides, the blanket was big enough to cover the two of them without having to even touch each other, right?
Sliding under the furthest corner, she quickly curled into a ball, eyes drifting shut before her head even touched the carpet.
:.
Waking in the morning, Y/N nuzzled further into the broad arms wrapped around her, sighing as she breathed in the stale scent of cologne and whisky. Her head pounding as she tried to recall the events of the night before that had led to her in a man’s arms. She startled, bolting upright as she remembered the drunkard who had stumbled through her door. And now she was in his arms. Fuck.
Seeing the man afresh with sober eyes, Y/N stopped to appreciate that he was actually really fucking attractive. It didn’t excuse him trying to break into her flat, but it helped, now knowing she’d cuddled him all night. God, that was embarrassing. How was she ever supposed to explain to the guy on the floor or Marlene what had happened. Slipping out from under the blanket, she tiptoed into the kitchen and slumped against the counter.
Coffee, she needed coffee. Then she could think about what had happened and how to sort out the man passed out in the living room.
Y/N filled the kettle up and spooned out the coffee granules into the cafetiere, frowning when her hand came into contact with air rather than her favourite mug. Fuck. It was still dirty from last night, probably abandoned on the table with her textbooks.
Meanwhile, Sirius groaned as he twisted under his covers. God, his head was aching, and his back was incredibly sore. Remus was going to kill him if he’d pulled a muscle; he was meant to be helping him move on the weekend. His mattress was uncomfortably lumpy; he knew he needed to get a new one, but he’d been putting it off. The bobbly fabric scratched his skin as he stretched out, flexing his fingers.
Hang on. Bobbly fabric?
Sirius cracked an eye open, flinching at the bright light. As his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming in, his heart rate picked up. This was not his apartment. He was pretty sure they didn’t have such awful, tasselled cushions or green lace curtains.
Did he-? He glanced down, releasing a sigh of relief when he noticed he was still fully dressed. Okay, so not that drunk. So how the hell did he end up here?
“Here.” A girl stood in the doorway, an unimpressed expression on her face as she offered him a steaming mug of black coffee. “I didn’t know how you liked it, but I have milk and sugar if you need.”
Sirius nodded, still trying to process how he’d got here. She stared at him, waiting for something. He quickly backtracked the conversation in his head. “Oh, no, I’m good, thanks.”
He sipped at the scalding liquid, face contorting into an expression of pain as it scorched his tongue. His eyes trailed over the girl, surely he’d remember someone this gorgeous. “So,” he winced, “how did I get here?”
She pursed her lips, as if she’d tasted something sour. Okay so that had been a bad question to ask.
“You barged into my apartment, claiming it was yours, threw up on my doorstep and then passed out.”
Oh fuck. His head spun as it tried to remember the events of the night before. He did recall somewhat throwing up, but it was a blurry flash. “Sorry about that.”
She hmphed, stacking some scattered sheets on the small coffee table and collecting up dirty crockery. Sirius swallowed the coffee, grimacing at the awkward atmosphere. Funnily enough his parents had never bothered to teach him the etiquette for accidentally bursting into the wrong flat and passing out.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, glad he didn’t have to feel the pressure of breaking the silence anymore.
JAMES: Where are u?
JAMES: When I said don’t bring a girl back I didn’t mean go back to hers
JAMES: Ur boss called. I said you were feeling under the weather. He said u should get over ur hangover & get into work
REMUS: Why did ur boss call me to ask if we went out last night? I said no btw
JAMES: He called again; said he’d fire you if you didn’t turn up before 11. I told him u were properly ill and I could send him a pic of the thermometer. I think I got you out of that one
JAMES: Mate, I’m getting a bit worried
Shit. When was that last one from? Okay, 11:15 and it was now 11:34. Sirius tapped out a reply to James, unsure how much detail to go into. I’m alright, be back soon. Yeah, that would do. He really couldn’t deal the endless mocking yet, once they’d found out what had happened they’d never let it go. So that would be saved for when the pounding headache had finally settled down.
His phone binged again. JAMES: We’re out of milk can you grab some on the way back?
Sure.
Sirius got to his feet, groaning as the room spun, beige walls all blurring into one. Rubbing at his face, he stumbled towards the kitchen, empty mug in hand.
“Hey, sorry, I don’t know your name.” He leant against the door frame, body sagging. God he was exhausted.
“Y/N.” Her tone was bitter, and Sirius couldn’t help the pang of guilt shooting through him. She’d probably stayed up all night worried he’d attack her or steal something.
“Well, thanks for the coffee, Y/N, and for not leaving me on the doorstep. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
He placed the mug down on the counter and slung his leather jacket on. She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes.
Y/N trailed him to the door, holding onto it as he stepped out, raising a hand goodbye.
“Bye.”
“Thanks, bye.” Sirius watched the chipped door swing shut, sunlight glinting gold off the battered number on the door. Hm, Number 51.
:.
Y/N groaned as the doorbell went. She’d just got settled into her studying. “Marlene, did you order something?”
“No. I’m broke.” Marlene yelled back, sticking her head out of her room. Her makeup was half done, mascara brush in hand and dress round her hips. “I can’t answer it like this!”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m on it.”
She tipped the papers onto the floor, ignoring the mess they made. Future her could tidy that up. Trudging to the door, she grabbed her phone off the table. So that was where she’d left it.
“Hi,” she nodded at the delivery guy. He was holding a large bunch of flowers and Y/N bit back a sigh her eyes. Probably from another of Marlene’s boys. Honestly, she was thinking of opening up a flower shop, considering the amount of flowers Marlene’s newest was insisting on sending.
“Hi, I’m looking for,” the delivery guy scanned the list on his clipboard, “Y/N?”
She froze. Huh. “Yeah, that’s me.”
He tucked the clipboard under his arm, passing her the flowers. “These are for you. There’s a card with it.”
“Thanks.”
Y/N shut the door, staring at the bunch of vivid blooms in confusion. Who on earth would have sent her these? She racked her brains for any possible romance in her life, but nothing came to mind. With her luck, it was probably her grandma or something. Not that she’d be upset by flowers from her nan but a mystery lover was much more interesting.
She pulled out the gilded card from where it was tucked into the side of the paper, scanning the words.
Sorry for breaking in and passing out in your flat, princess. Text me if you want to go for drinks at some point: +44 7xxx xxxxxx
A smile broke across her face. Maybe she’d take him up on his offer.
-
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all hp tags: @missmulti @acciotwinz @1marvelavengers1 @samnblack @neymarlionelmessi7 @okkulta  @gredandforge @onestela@yourenotafailureoverall  @milkshakelol
sirius black tags: @holybatflapexpert @methamphetaminee @thefernandasantana @uglipotata72829 @cheapglitter @lozzybowe @persephonehemingway @blisfvlll @mads-bri @fific7 @electrasworld666 @ccosmic-illusion @anniewhoiam @20coldhearts @imcreepininyourheartbabe @whointhehellisbucky @isntmadrid @blackblossomqueen @wheezyreads @tugabooos @atomic-chickenwings @its-evita-here @inkandpen22 @Rue-123  @emilianamason @mesmerisedalien
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deancasbigbang · 3 years
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Title: There Are Roads Left in Both of Our Shoes
Author: sidewinder
Artist: JavocJovian
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester (background), Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak (background), Cesar Cuevas/Jesse Cuevas (background)
Length: 95000
Warnings: No archive warnings apply, canon-typical violence
Tags: Post-Episode AU: s15e19 Inherit the Earth Season 15/finale fix-it emotional hurt/comfort angst dreams and nightmares road trip first time Top/Bottom Versatile Cas/Dean soul bonding domestic Dean/Cas
Posting Date: October 22, 2021
Summary: When Cas suddenly appears at the bunker—out of the Empty, human, and very much alive—Dean can’t believe it. In the time since Chuck’s defeat and Jack vanishing into thin air, he’s lost all hope of ever seeing his angel again. Everything is perfect—or at least, as close as it has ever been for him. Without the fate of the universe to worry about and freed from God’s machinations, Dean can finally and openly reciprocate Cas’s love. They can begin to share the joys of this new life and be happy together in ways neither has allowed themselves in the past.  Cas is having trouble sleeping, though, nightmares clinging to him like the inky darkness of the Empty itself. Dean figures it will pass with time, and he begins to allow himself to dream and plan for a future where they can leave monsters and hunting behind for good. Only Cas’s nightmares are growing worse, not better. And Dean faces the possibility that he may lose Cas yet again to an enemy who won’t let go—not unless they can find a way to bind Cas to this Earth, this existence.  To Dean.
Excerpt: “Wait. Before you go, I have one more favor I’d like to ask. It’s a quick one,” Cas reassured her, sensing impatience. “And I have another gift if you choose to help me.” The promise of an additional shiny object gave her pause. He nodded toward his truck. “If you won’t let me give you a ride, then sit inside with me for a moment and I’ll show you.” Anael followed him, taking a seat on the passenger’s side. He opened the glove compartment and removed a small velvet pouch. From it he revealed an intricately carved turquoise scarab, as brilliant blue as the Mediterranean Sea on a clear day. “What’s this?” she asked with wide-eyed admiration. “A present to me from the Djinn queen. I’m...apparently married to her now under their law. She keeps sending me these tokens of appreciation.”  “Djinn queen? Didn’t think that was your style, Castiel. Kinky.” “Not really. It’s...complicated.” “Everything always is, with you. But this is beautiful.” “It’s yours if you’ll help me. You’re the only angel I can trust with this request.” He didn’t completely trust her, either. But they’d never tried to kill one another, which was at least something. “I know I’ve been focused on Jack’s soul today. But I was hoping...I’d like you to check if I have a soul.” She blinked at him and laughed. “I’m sorry, you want me to do what?” “When Metatron stole my grace and I became human, he mentioned that when I died, my soul would go to Heaven. Yet the last time I died, after my grace was restored, I ended up in the Empty.”  “That’s because angels don’t have souls. Simply removing our grace doesn't automatically create one in its absence.” “I realize that. But since then I’ve wondered...did he know or see something I didn’t? Maybe it’s been there long before then. It might explain why I was always prone to acting against orders I felt were wrong. The mere fact I have these...feelings that do not seem to fit what we angels are supposed to feel.”  She didn’t look convinced, but appeared intrigued enough to keep listening.  “When I didn’t have my grace, I had to sleep,” he continued. “I felt guilt and despair and love with an intensity we should not. I still do. When I have encountered soulless humans, they do and they feel none of these things.” Sam, in his post-Hell soulless state, as well as the prophet Donatello came to mind. Jack, and his changing behavior and demeanor as well. “Yes, but...soul or no soul, what difference does it make?” she asked. “It’s a painful and risky thing to check, if just to satisfy some kind of curiosity. You can’t exactly swap your soul out—if you have one—for Jack’s, either.” “I know that,” Cas told her. “But for other reasons, it might be of some use to me later on to know.” 
DCBB 2021 Posting Schedule
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perlukafarinn · 3 years
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i’m gonna need a season 8 au with emma in it
they find her in purgatory, after dean meets benny but before he tracks down cas. he’s shocked to see her there but one look at her tattered clothes and the hungry gleam in her eyes and he knows there’s no chance he’s leaving her here
that doesn’t meant that dean knows how to be around her. he feels weird and clumsy in their interactions, extremely guilty at having let sam kill her (as he thinks of it) but also completely unsure of how to talk to her or what she expects from him
for benny, it’s much more straightforward. he’s distrustful of her at first but as soon as they get attacked and he sees emma fighting back but clearly terrified, he transforms fully into protective mama bear mode
it’s easy for emma to talk to benny, because they’re both monsters and there’s none of the emotional baggage. dean is so jealous seeing them interact, not to mention the guilt keeps heaping on the longer he lets her remain in purgatory (but leaving without cas is not an option)
their conversations start getting a little easier once emma asks dean about life on earth and he realizes she’s never really known it. he tells her about all of the good stuff: food, music, decent beds and road trips and the beach at sunset (all things he’s never had in abundance but that he promises himself he’ll make sure emma gets)
things get complicated again when they find cas and they have to find a new balance in their little group. emma is wary around cas, knowing how powerful he is, but she starts to relax because he’s so kind and awkward and weird. 
(plus he’s her dad’s boyfriend who wants to impress her and that’s not exactly intimidating)
then the whole drama leaving purgatory - emma hitches a ride the same way benny does (dean has two arms, doesn’t he?) and cas is left behind just as before. once they’re back on earth, benny sticks with dean and emma, because things are different now and dean figures since he’s bringing his monster daughter back with him he might as well bring his new monster bff too
i have less of a clear idea about how the rest of the season would go but that’s why i need someone else to write this for me please and thank you
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fanfic-corner · 3 years
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Destiel
It’s my birthday tomorrow, and to celebrate, I’ve compiled a list of my favourite fics! I’ve read a lot of Destiel fics over the past year, but these are the ones that have stuck with me the most. I’ve not put as much detail in as I usually do because otherwise we would be here forever, but I am begging you to read these fics. They’re all amazing.
Kiss You When It’s Dangerous by zoemathemata (@zoemathemata) on AO3. (57,593 words).
It’s adorable. The plot is fabulous. It’s my all time favourite fic. Please, I am begging you, just read it.
Stand By Me by whelvenwings (@whelvenwings) on AO3. (31,252 words).
The first Destiel fic I ever read, and it’s managed to stay with me this whole time.
Angel’s Wild by LimonadeGaby and riseoftefallenone on AO3. (389,271 words).
The pining is unbearable but it’s all worth it in the end. The ultimate slow burn.
The Tea is Decaf by mnwood (@tomhardysteeth) on AO3. (3,673 words).
Cas is adorable. Eileen is adorable. Everyone is adorable.
a turn of the earth by microcomets on AO3. (95,274 words).
Of course I’ll rec the ultimate John Winchester bashing fic. The plot is so amazing and it is written excellently.
the inexhaustible silence of houses by Askance on AO3. (31,820 words).
This was beautifully written, made me cry, and the ending haunts me to this day.
Forget-Me-Not Blues by noangelsinthegarrison (@aaziraphales) on AO3. (68,689 words).
Jesus Christ, I have not read another fic where these two are such blatant idiots. That being said... I love it. Everything about it is amazing.
the cost of a thing by quiettewandering (@wanderingcas) on AO3. (74,198 words).
So cute! All the angst! My all time favourite trope and absolutely the best take on it!
In All Your Borrowed Finery by vanishingact (@vanishingactblog) on AO3. (67,950 words).
Okay this is adorable and you can’t convince me otherwise. Every time I read a fic with Gabriel in, I miss him just a bit more.
Down Like Water by museaway (@museaway) on AO3. (14,512 words).
I reread this occasionally just to feel something. I literally had to check if I misread the tags like 3 times and I cry every. single. time.
Partnered by K_K_TiBal (@thebloggerbloggerfun) on AO3. (28,112 words).
This is so fucking cute. The artwork is gorgeous. And, now I ship Jody and Donna. All round win.
Black Swans by omphalos and Wolfling on AO3. (66,455 words).
Okay so maybe this is more Sabriel than Destiel, but it was written amazingly and the plot was phenomenal!
this is a good thing, dean (prayer is a sign of faith) by cascountsdeansfreckles on AO3. (529 words).
The one time Cas can’t hear his prayers... I had to include a 15x18 fic in here somewhere, and this one set me off.
Purgatory, director’s cut by runsinthefamily on AO3. (23,722 words).
This was beautiful. It felt hypnotic, almost like poetry, and I absolutely cried at the end.
The House on the Ocean Road by coffeeandcas (@coffeeandcas) on AO3. (111,351 words).
This was gorgeous! Dean and Cas as parents was adorable, and Jimmy was such a fucking icon I don’t even know where to start. Also, not the weirdest past Cas ship I’ve ever seen (but it’s up there).
Broadway Musical by Griftings on AO3. (12,453 words).
The King and Queen of the crack fics. I adore the ‘did you fuck the Michael sword’ vibes and the formatting just makes everything so much funnier.
How Many Slams In An Old Screen Door [podfic] by Tenoko1 (@tenoko1) on AO3. (1hr 50mins).
Before we were shoved back into lockdown, I used to listen to podfics on the way to/from school, and this has to be my all time favourite so far. The asexual representation was fantastic, the plot was hilarious, and (as always) it was read beautifully.
When Charlie Met Cas by riseofthefallenone on AO3. (24,666 words).
This has to be thee funniest fic ever written. I don’t make the rules.
Boneless Wings by PallasPerilous (@pallasperilous) on AO3. (4,333 words).
The art is gorgeous (I’d literally just finished watching Pan’s Labyrinth which was terrifying) and it was such a brilliant parody of all the other wing fics out there (not that I don’t love them too!)
Grace by july_19th_club (@july-19th-club) on AO3. (5,164 words).
This was gorgeous and now I really want to see it filmed! It is so much better than the ending we got. I would say the author should work for them, but... frankly, they deserve better.
It Started With a Fanfic Competition by Tenoko1 (@tenoko1) on AO3. (124,487 words).
This was written beautifully. It was so wholesome, not afraid to call the characters out on their usual bullshit, and has genuinely more character development than the entire 15 year long show.
Serendipity by whelvenwings (@whelvenwings) on AO3. (23,891 words).
I absolutely adored every character in this (and thoroughly enjoyed guessing who was going to show up next!) and the plot was fabulous!
The Mute!Cas ‘verse by Princess_Aleera on AO3. (148,656 words).
Oh man. I wasn’t sure at first, but this is now maybe my favourite universe out there. The fluff was unbelievably fluffy, the angst was quality pain, and that’s without mentioning the fact the end had me ugly sobbing. On Christmas Eve.
When Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth by Mishafied on AO3. (68,926 words).
Oh my lord, what about this isn’t amazing? The casting was fabulous, the amount of research was obvious and really paid off, and I mean... Jurassic Park AU! It made me desperate to rewatch the films, too.
The Passion of the Christ (and his angelic ex-boyfriend) by Bzzee (@clarafordahwin) on AO3. (4,972 words).
I am going straight to Hell, and it is because of this fic right here. That being said, this is top quality crack and I’ve sent it to everyone I know just for the trip (two of them had never watched SPN. One asked me if Jesus was actually in it).
You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow on AO3. (352,388 words).
I won’t spoil it, but one of the best plot twists of all time! The exploration of Dean & Cas’ relationship, the detail put into the lore, the foreshadowing... amazing.
Apres by imogenbynight (@imogenbynight) on AO3. (24,045 words).
This was so adorable - Cas and Dean deserved a holiday in France!
I hope you enjoyed them! I’ve really been struck - especially over quarantine - with appreciation for all the writers out there who are giving us this professional quality content for free. I genuinely don’t know what I’d do without you, which is why I’ve done my best to hunt you down and tag you so you can take my love! There are a hundred other fics that I could have included on here as well, or ones that I’ve read since making this list. Thank you all so much for giving us these wonderful stories!
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floatingpetals · 3 years
Text
Call of the Mountains || Ch. 9
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Werewolf AU!)
Warnings: nothin really
Word Count: 1500+
Summary:  (Werewolf-AU!Stucky x f!reader) Life had begun to overwhelm her. Work was insane and her life was a mess. There was a tug in her soul that called her to take this trip, deep into the forest away, where there was the peace and stillness of nature. She didn’t know why, but she knew she needed to listen. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but one misstep on some moss sent her tumbling into the rapids of the flooded river. She thought she was gone and the earth decided it was time to reclaim her. She didn’t expect was to be pulled from the river nor the creature that saved her. Her entire world is turned upside down and all it took was an accidental step to the left. (18+ Only Story)
A/N: Hey all! So it’s been a while huh? I can’t make any promises that this will be frequent but I wrote a little bit and wanted to post it! I hope you all enjoy and thank you for being so patient with me! I’m hoping I can get back to the swing of things. I also didn’t really edit so I’m sorry if there’s errors 😅 Enjoyyy!!
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Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Series Masterlist
Y/N woke to the sound of power turning back on in the house. It was jarring at first, the sound of the air conditioner turning on and several loud beeps sounded around the house. She could hear someone in the hall muttering an oath over a practically loud incessant beeping before it was finally silenced. Blearily she glanced out the window, the sun had just peaked over the mountains casting bright rays through the large open window.
Letting out a sigh, she figured it was best to get out of bed. No point in hiding in the room, especially not with how her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. Y/N glanced at her dirty clothes and wondered if they had a washing machine she could use now that the power was back on. Snagging them in her uninjured hand, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do her business before creeping into the living room.
The sound of the television filtered down the hall as she inched around the corner, she spotted Bucky standing in front of the television with his arms crossed and back tense. It took her a quick glance at the headline to understand his frustration. The rain from last night created floods and knocked down trees on most major roads in the area, specifically around the reserve. Which meant she was stuck.
“Oh well that’s a great thing to wake up and see,” She mumbled and walked up beside him. She bit her lip to stifle a giggle when she saw him flinch and his head swivel around towards her.
Bucky nearly flew out of his skin when she materialized beside him. He had to take a deep breath, to calm the start to his heart as well as the frustration in himself how quickly he forgot she was capable of sneaking upon him. That was definitely not a common occurrence for him. He should have scented her at the very least. Maybe it because she’s wearing my clothes, he tried to reason.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Her giggle finally won. Bucky grumbled, but couldn’t stop the grin growing on his face. “So we’re blocked in huh?”
“Looks like it.” He nodded. “Steve’s gone out to see if we can still get out to the pa-cabins. My phone hasn’t blown up yet, so either it means we’re in the clear or he’s in the middle of cleaning up the roads and hasn’t had a chance to call and bitch yet.”
“Let’s hope it’s not too bad if there are any downed trees.” She mumbled and watched the forecast. She winced. Now it was supposed to rain every day for the next week. Just great. “I guess I shouldn’t have tried my luck. First, the questionable rain forecast, then I fall in a river, fracture my wrist, and now I’m literally flooded in.”
“At least you’re not stuck in your tent!” Bucky grinned trying to remain optimistic. “Speaking of which, Natasha said she’d call the rangers station for you and see what she could have them do about your stuff. Better her let them know you’re safe than them waste manpower trying to find you.”
“Oh,” Y/N blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. “That’s sweet of her.”
“If you have anything you can think you’d need, let me know and I can see if Natasha can’t get them for you.” He didn’t offer how she could get them or how she knew which campsite was hers, but Y/N also didn’t think to ask. Probably got the info from the ranger station, Y/N reasoned.
“I guess my phone, so I can tell my parents I’m alright and let my job know I might not make it back when I agreed to be back.” She said. “And maybe some of my clothes. Speaking of which, do you have a washer I could borrow?”
Bucky blinked and finally looked down at the bundle of clothes in her hand.
“Oh! Yeah of course,” He motioned her to follow through the kitchen and to what looked like a mudroom converted to a laundry room. “If you ever need to use it, feel free. Detergent is in the box and the softener is that white container. While you do that, do you want anything to eat? I should have asked you that first.”
“Oh,” she looked up from the brand-new fancy washing machine and over to where Bucky hovered in the doorway. “I’m okay with whatever you have available. Can I make a special request for some coffee with cream and sugar?”
“You sure can.” Bucky beamed with a wink, leaving her to it in the room with a noticeable bounce in his step. She could hear him moving around in the kitchen, finding it incredibly adorable how enthusiastic he appeared to be cooking her something. She shook her head with a giggle and turned back to the machine.
After a few minutes of fumbling with the fancy machine that had way too many settings, Y/N went back to the kitchen where Bucky was plating her food. He flashed a smile over his shoulder and motioned for her to sit at the table. A steaming cup of fresh coffee sat at the table, fork, and knife waiting as well.
 “Go ahead and take a seat. I didn’t know how much sugar you wanted, so it’s in the bowl next to the salt and pepper.”
“Thank you.” Y/N hummed eagerly and sank into the seat. She had just finished putting in her sugar and took a sip when Bucky set the plate of food in front of her. Piled high with eggs, bacon, and hash browns, the smell hit her nose, and instantly her mouth started to water. Completely uncaring what he thought about her table manners, she dug in.
Amused, Bucky slid into the seat across from her with his own plate and cup of coffee. He watched her for a moment, a grin on his face before he too dug in. Mentally, he was going over the list of things that needed to be done. He had a pack to keep safe, first and foremost. While Steve might be handling the cleanup, Bucky was usually in charge of making sure everyone was accounted for and they had everything they’d needed.
True they were an efficient pack that didn’t need help from the outside, but it didn’t mean they were completely prepared for natural disasters. Cabins would need to be inspected, generators most likely needed to be fixed, food needed to be replaced, the roads and paths they usually took would need to be checked so there wasn’t something that could cause problems down the line. There was also the fact he had yet to hear from Wanda or Pietro.
The twins were supposed to be patrolling last night and would usually check-in before the sun rose when they returned. Neither had contacted Bucky or Steve, and Bucky was growing concerned. They were quite capable of taking care of themselves, but this was not normal for the two.
He was so busy worrying and planning he didn’t notice Y/N had stood to move beside him until her soft scent drifted to his nose. He blinked and tilted his head back, startled for the second time that morning. He had to swallow his tongue to keep the purr his beast made down. Oblivious to the effect she had on him, Y/N smiled softly and motioned to his empty plate.
“You finished?”
Bucky’s cleared his throat and nodded dumbly. Y/N took their plates and went to the sink. He watched her go to the stove to grab the skillet and heading back to the sink before turning the tap on. The sound of water and clinking plates snapped Bucky out of his stupor.
“Oh, you don’t have to clean those!” He jumped up and began to cross the kitchen to her side. She shot him a look that stopped him short and reached for the sponge.
“You made me breakfast, the least I can do is while the plates down before putting them in your dishwasher.” She replied smoothly. Bucky opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off again. “Nope, it’s how we do it my house. You cook, I clean.”
Bucky chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, more than aware he lost this argument. He didn’t get a chance to argue anyways, he could hear his phone going off in the living room where he left it.
“Alright, alright. You win. Just keep your cast dry.” He shot over his shoulder.
“Aye aye, captain!” Y/N shouted back, giggling at the amused snort that she received in answer.
Smiling from ear to ear, Bucky answered the call from Natasha in a rather happy mood. But the tone that greeted him cut his happiness off short.
“Barnes, you need to get down here. Steve’s pissed. Bring Y/N too. She needs to see this.”
The phone clicked before he could ask what the hell was going on, not at all a normal Natasha thing to do. A sinking feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He turned slowly to look over his shoulder where Y/N stood at the sink, loading his dishwasher humming a happy tune, and wondered what the hell happened last night they didn’t know about.
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marshmallow-phd · 3 years
Text
Book of the Dead
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Genre: The Mummy AU
Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader
Summary: After traveling to the fabled city of Hamunaptra, you read from the Book of the Dead and accidentally resurrect an ancient mummy with extraordinary powers and quest for revenge. The only thing to do now is try and convince your less-than-traditional guide to help you save the world. 
Part 1 I Part 2
**
“I just said a few sentences!”
“What did you do that for!”
“Well, I didn’t know that that would happen!”
You stared at the aggravating, self-absorbed, cocky Korean soldier and wondered why on earth you had decided to negotiate for this man’s life. 
Alright, you did know why. You needed him to show you to Hamunuptra - the fabled City of the Dead. 
Too many times you had stood in front of the museum curator with pages and pages of references and evidence that the place existed and just needed a small team of archeologists in order to track it down. He’d shot you down every time. And each time he took the liberty of reminding you that while your father was an exceptional explorer who had many successes under his belt, you were a woman whose life had been spent between the shelves, cataloging. Your adventures consisted of the fictional kind, devouring any novel you could when you weren’t archiving the latest crate of artifacts and texts. 
Then your cousin showed up. Your normally useless, hare-brained, erratic, drunkard cousin showed up at your apartment with a “fun new artifact” he found on his latest trip. And suddenly your luck had completely turned around. 
Or so you thought. 
Now you were standing in the middle of Hamunaptra, feet sinking into the unstable sand, with an empty sarcophagus and everyone blaming you because you did what you did best - read.
It was only a book. Albeit, a very heavy, possibly-made-of-painted-solid-gold book that was written in the dead language of ancient Egypt, but still. What harm had ever come from reading a book?
Kim Junmyeon stared at you as if you were the one who had risen from the dead. You were still stunned at how different he looked from when you had first met him in that smelly prison, minutes away from being hanged. His hair had been long and stringy, clumps of dirt clinging to the dark brown strands that brushed his shoulders. Now it was shorter, cut above his ears and gelled back in the current style that almost made him look like a gentleman. The several days’ stubble was long gone to reveal smooth skin and a sharp jawline. He was actually very handsome - when he was cleaned up. 
Stupid, you hissed at yourself. Now was not the time for this. Because right now there seemed to be a reanimated mummy running around here. And by the looks of Barney’s husk of a body lying deep within the temple underground, it was hungry. 
As it should be, given the three thousand years it spent locked up under piles of sand. 
“Really, you should have been more careful!” your cousin, Baekhyun, scolded. 
You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. You were the one who snatched the key off of Mr. Kim here at one of your seedy bars and then proceeded to lie to me and say that you found it on a dig in Thebes which in turn brought us here!”
Baekhyun opened and closed his mouth as he searched for a possible retort. 
“I think this is more your fault,” Kim Junmyeon’s own cousin and traveling partner, Oh Sehun, said. “You told us to go down a level and dig under the statue, which in turn,” he mocked your tone almost precisely, “caused the mummy to be able to get out of his sarcophagus. If we had dug somewhere else entirely, then he’d still be trapped under the statue of Anubis.”
“Despite the fact that it was two layers deep, nothing would have been able to hold a victim of the Hom-Dai.”
“Would have given poor Barney a chance,” Kim Junmyeon muttered under his breath. You shot him a glare that he hardly noticed. 
“I say that we get out of here and to the safety of the city before the mummy finds us.” Oh Sehun swallowed thickly. “Or worse. The beetles find us.” The supposedly brave soldier who had two pistols hanging under each arm was more terrified of the flesh eating bugs than he was the living mummy that was bringing about the ten plagues of Egypt. You’d already lived through the locust infestation, but that was always the most minor of the plagues. In your opinion. 
“We told you to leave,” Ardeth said in that low, monotone voice that made him seem centuries old. You had only known him for a few hours, but you already feared and respected him. Despite the fact that he had attacked your campsite the night before. “Now you have condemned the whole world to the very monster that we have spent three thousand years keeping hidden.”
Kim Junmyeon finally tore his face away from yours. “I told you. I shot him. He went down.”
“Mortal weapons are useless against this creature. None can kill him.” Stepping up, he stood toe to toe with the soldier who led you here. “A gun is nothing more than a fly to him. He will never eat. He will never sleep. And he will never stop. Not until this world is only sand.”
Though still not completely backing down, Kim Junmyeon took hold of your arm. “Come on. We’re going back to Cairo.”
**
The camel ride back to the city was long, tiring, and a bit painful, if you were honest. The inside of your thighs were sore from keeping you up right on the animal’s back for hours on end under the blazing heat. You were used to the comfortable back seat of a car, even if the roads here tended to be on the bumpier side. Kim Junmyeon stayed at your side the entire time, up until you were back in your hotel room. All your things were still in there. That was nice, even if it was to be expected. The desk clerk had sworn he would keep the room reserved for you until you made it back. And now that you had, you were on to the next fight. 
“We’re not going anywhere!” 
Kim Junmyeon pretended not to hear you as he started emptying the dresser drawers of your clothes and stuffing them in your suitcases lying open on the bed.
“Excuse me! I said we’re not going anywhere!” As soon as he stepped away again, you slammed the suitcase shut. A stray white cat that you didn’t have the heart to remove from your room took advantage of the newly available space and laid down on the surface of the luggage. Unbothered by the argument taking place in its presences, it purred as it curled into a ball and closed its eyes. 
“You keep using the word ‘we’ and I’m not sure why,” he said. “I believe you were the one who woke him up in the first place.”
“Yes, I get it!” you shouted. “Everyone can blame me because I read the damn book, but that is why we need to stop him.”
He closed the empty drawer and turned back around to face you. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that? You heard Ardeth. No mortal weapon can kill this guy.”
“That’s why we’re going to find some immortal ones.”
He pulled a pair of rounded glasses from his pocket, wiped the lenses with his shirt, and stuck them on the bridge of his nose. “There goes that ‘we’ business again.”
You huffed, trying not to focus on the newest version of the soldier now being presented in front of you. “Yes, we. Because this curse will continue to get worse until the whole world is destroyed.”
“And that’s my problem?”
“It is everybody’s problem! You live here, too!”
Kim Junmyeon stepped up until he was mere inches away. “Listen. I appreciate you saving my life and all, but when I agreed to this idiotic mission my objective was to show you the way and then bring you back here. I have done that. End of job. End of story. Contract terminated.”
You tried not to show how his last few words affected you. Though you had been a little intoxicated two nights ago, you still very much remembered how sweet he had been, how he had listened to you go on and on about your parents and how much you wanted to be a famous adventurer like your father. And how you almost kissed him. And how he was going to kiss you back. Stupidly, you had thought that there was something growing between you. Apparently, you had been wrong. 
“Is that all I am to you?” you whispered. “A contract?”
Kim Junmyeon blew out haughtily from his nose. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You waited in hopes that he would contradict you. That he would say, no that was not all you were to him. And it really seemed like he would be saying something along those lines. But other words came out instead. 
“Look. You can either come with me or you can try and stay here and save the world. So. What’s it going to be?”
You didn’t even hesitate. “I’m staying.”
“Fine.” He headed for the door. 
“Fine,” you bit back, following him. 
“Fine,” he threw at you again as he barely glanced over his shoulder.
“Fine!”
“Fine!” 
He got the last word in before slamming the door to your room shut. 
You huffed as you crossed your arms. Yet, as angry as you were, you still hoped that he would come back. That he wouldn’t let you take this on alone. But the footsteps on the other faded away and you were alone.
Looking around your room, you didn’t think there was much you could do. So, you did what you were best at. You grabbed all the books you thought could help you and got to reading. 
While sitting in the wicker chair in the corner, you skipped around the books and pages, clinging on to any small word that you thought could lead you to a possible solution. There wasn’t much to be found, unfortunately. Most works spoke of how to perform the Hom-Dai and how it should never be performed due to the curse that awaits should the victim ever be awakened. You already knew that. You needed specifics on what to do after the victim came back. 
“(Y/n)!”
Kim Junmyeon came bursting back into your room. You slammed the book in your hands closed, feeling very high and mighty indeed.
“Ah. Mr. Kim. Have you changed your mind?”
“Doesn’t matter now, he’s here!”
“What!”
He didn’t clarify as he hoisted you up out of the chair and pulled you out of the room, and into the hall. Through the windows, you watched in horror as fire fell from the heavens. The balls of flame engulfed anything it touched when it landed, whether it be plant or human life. Turning a corner, Kim Junmyeon ran into a room you knew was occupied by another one of the Americans that you had ran into on your way to Hamunaptra. You gasped. 
In the chair, now nothing more than dried, husky skin and hollow bones was… oh, dear you couldn’t remember his name. You hadn’t bothered to learn them. You and Baekhyun had simply referred to them as the “Bloody Americans”. You were feeling a bit awful about that at the moment. 
But you didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Standing in front of the fireplace was a new version of the mummy. His skin was starting to come together, though patches were still missing, allowing you to see the gray bone and lack of organs underneath. Kim Junmyeon pulled out both of his guns as the mummy stalked forward. 
“We are in deep trouble,” he murmured before opening fire. The loud pops banged on your poor eardrums. You stumbled back a few steps to try and soften their blows. It didn’t work. 
The bullets passed through the mummy as if they didn’t exist at all. Even when Oh Sehun and the other Americans came running into the room and firing off their own guns, the mummy still kept going. He shoved Kim Junmyeon back into the others as if he were nothing more than old wrappings. Then he turned on you. 
Completely unarmed, you stumbled back until you were betrayed by the bookshelf behind you. There was nowhere to run. Instead of sucking out your liver, however, he spoke. 
“You were the one who saved me from the afterlife.” His words were haunting, echoing as if he was speaking in a cavern. And the language he spoke… ancient Egyptian. You weren’t sure why you expected to speak anything else. Coming in closer, he lowered his voice. “I thank you.” 
He leaned in his head, those very human eyes lowering to your lips. You turned your head away to try and avoid the kiss, confused as to why he was trying to seduce you. 
Sharp, unpleasing notes from the piano pierced through the air. The mummy turned and gasped when he saw the white cat from your room walking across the keys. In a whirl of sand, he fled from the room. 
“Oh, thank god,” you said with a heavy breath.
“No kidding,” Kim Junmyeon groaned as he sat up. 
You ran to his side, fearful that he might have been injured. “Are you alright, Mr. Kim?”
“Yes,” he huffed. With a very odd expression, he added, “And I told you to call me Junmyeon.”
To be honest, after your fight, you didn’t think you would be allowed to anymore. A strange silence settled between you. He was trying to say something with his gaze, but you couldn’t interpret it. So, instead, you helped him to his feet. “Come on. I know who we need to talk to about all of this.”
It took a while to get back to the museum that had employed you for the past year or so. Every street was full of panicking people. Flames no longer fell from the heavens, but little fires still raged on homes and carts. The Americans had declared that they were coming along, so your group was slower in moving. Although you didn’t really want the mummy bait to be anywhere near you, Junmyeon and Sehun decided that it would be better to keep an eye on them and - hopefully - keep them out of the mummy’s grasp. 
“Dr. Bey!” You ran into the museum’s main storage room, happy when you saw the curator. But then you skidded to a stop at the sight that he wasn’t alone. 
Ardeth was talking with him in hushed tones that stopped the second you appeared. Both men turned towards you, the curator wearing a very readable expression. It was one that stunk of “I told you so”. The others were only a few steps behind. As soon they, too, saw the unexpected visitor, Junmyeon, Sehun, and the Americans pulled out their guns while Baekhyun simply squeaked in surprise. 
“Gentlemen,” Dr. Bey greeted as if this were any old meeting on a Tuesday. 
“What is he doing here?” Junmyeon demanded. Even with the black tattoos etched under Ardeth’s eyes, you could tell that he was tired, dark circles from lack of sleep bruising his skin. 
Dr. Bey raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to know? Or perhaps you would prefer to just shoot us?”
“Either sounds good.” Junmyeon cocked back the hammer of one of his guns for emphasis. 
“Stop it,” you hissed. “Bullets won’t do any good here. Besides, you might damage some of the artifacts.”
Junmyeon failed to suppress a laugh over your concern. Despite the present danger, you still didn’t want to see the carriages or sacred jars damaged because someone got trigger happy. So, Junmyeon holstered his guns and the others soon followed suit. “All right. I’ll give a little faith.”
Dr. Bey motioned for the group to follow him in deeper. “We’re part of a secret society-”
“Aren’t they all?” Baekhyun muttered. Both you and Dr. Bey shot him glares that made him snap his mouth shut. 
“For over three thousand years, we have guarded the City of the Dead. Once we reach manhood, we swear an oath to do anything and everything in our power to stop the high priest Imhotep from rising from the grave.”
“And now we have failed. Thanks to you.” Ardeth gave you a particularly pointed look. 
By now, you were getting very irritated with the constant finger pointing. What was done was done. You were not going to show him any cowardice. “And that justifies the murder of innocent people?” 
“Hm. To stop this creature?” Dr. Bey pretended to think for a moment. “Yes.”
Junmyeon, untroubled by that, raised his hand from the golden seat of a dead royal that he had taken over. “I have a question. Why doesn’t he seem to like cats?”
“Cats are the guardians of the underworld. He will fear them until he reaches full regeneration.”
“Then there will be nothing that he fears.” Worry was very much apparent in the soldier’s voice.
“And you know how he gets regenerated?” one of the Americans asked rhetorically. 
The other one finished. “By tracking those of us down who opened the chest and sucking us dry like a nomad in the desert, that’s how!”
It was completely pointless to go over the things that were already known. Now was the time to try and piece the unused parts together. Two particular moments were sticking out in your head. 
“Back in Hamunaptra, the priest - Imhotep - he called me Ack-Su-Namun. And then just now at the hotel, he….” You cringed at the memory, thankful that you didn’t have to feel the decomposed skin against your own. “He tried to kiss me.”
“It’s because of Anck-Su-Namun and his love for her that he was cursed,” Dr. Bey explained, exchanging a look with Ardeth. “Even after all this time….”
“He’s still in love with her?” Sehun finished with a scoff. 
You appreciated the backstory, however - “As romantic as that is, what does that have to do with me?”
“Perhaps he will try to raise her from the dead once again?” Ardeth guessed. 
“Yes,” Dr. Bey agreed solemnly. “And it would seem that he has already chosen his human sacrifice.”
All eyes in the room turned to you. Wonderful. 
Not only were you the one who read from the book and raised him, but you would also be responsible for the return of his beloved, who was the reason he was cursed in the first place. Absolutely beautiful. 
Baekhuyn came up behind you and patted your shoulder. “That is some rotten luck, dear cousin.”
“Actually, this could work in our favor,” Dr. Bey countered. “It could give us time that we desperately need to kill the creature.”
“We’ll need every second, I think,” Sehun said. He pointed towards the ceiling. “I think he’s getting stronger.”
Through the large window high up on the wall, the sun was in clear view. You all watched in horror as the moon moved too quickly across the sky and blocked the light from reaching Earth. 
“I’m guessing this is the plague of darkness?” Baekhyun said ominously. You nodded slowly. 
“Let’s go,” Junmyeon said softly beside you, his hand coming up protectively behind your back. “We’ve got to get back to the hotel and come up with a plan.”
**
“I’m just saying, it seems very stupid to comdem someone to a curse when the result of that would be for them to come back a supernatural creature who is practically unkillable.”
“The ancient Egyptians believed in balance,” you explained to Baekhyun for the hundredth time in your life. “To curse someone so badly in both this life and the next, there has to be a consequence to balance out the scales. If not, then the whole world could still fall apart, in even worse ways!”
“All of this is kind of pointless now, isn’t it?” Sehun sighed from the small table in the antechamber to your room. His feet were up on the polished surface as he leaned back in his seat. A look of irritation was etched on his face as he stared at your cousin. “What’s done is done. Right now, we need to focus on our next step.”
“Well, I know you two,” you pointed to the Americans, “opened the chest. As well as Barney. Was there anyone else?”
“The Egyptologist that was with us,” the shaggier one answered. “Professor Chamberlain. He has a temporary residence a few blocks over.”
“What about my best friend Beni?” Junmyeon asked. You nearly snorted. You knew the two of them were anything but friends.
“No. He ran out before we took the lid off. Ended up saving his own skin.”
“Sounds like Beni,” Junmyeon said dryly. “Okay. We’re going to go get the Professor. You four,” he pointed to all the men, “come with me. You, stay here.”
Oh, no you weren’t. “Excuse me! I am just as capable as any of them are. I will not- What do you think you’re doing!”
Junmyeon marched over to you, picked you up, and carried you over his shoulder until you were in your room. Then he dropped you on the floor, closed the door, and locked it tight. “This door doesn’t open.”
You didn’t know who he said it to, who he left in charge of watching you like an infant. It didn’t matter. You pounded your fist against the solid wood door. “Baekhyun! Junmyeon! Let me out! Baekhyun, you coward! Help me out here!”
“Sorry, cousin!” Baekhyun yelled on the other side of the door. “But… he’s got a gun.”
“Smart choice,” you heard Junmyeon say. Oh, you were going to kill him. Which “him” was yet to be decided. Perhaps both would be most satisfactory. 
Well, now you were stuck here. 
Crossing your arms, you sat on the edge of the bed and contemplated your choices. Not that you had many. 
A yawn forced its way out. You were tired. Over the past few days, you had hardly been able to get any real sleep. And, well, now seemed to be a time. So, you changed into your nightgown and slipped under the covers. The mattress was soft, like a cloud. The pillows were stuffed into freshly cleaned cotton cases. It was barely a few minutes before you drifted off…
And then abruptly woke up to something moving against your mouth. It started out soft but quickly turned ashen and tough. Your eyes flew open and you screamed, the sound muffled by the kiss of Imhotep!
You tried to shove him off, but he didn’t budge. Your touch meant nothing to him as he continued the unwanted kiss. 
The door to your room burst open, finally taking his attention and allowing your scream to be heard at full volume. Imhotep’s face was half rotten away, his lips completely gone, the cheeks held together by thin strips of jerky-like skin. You scrambled out of reach, to try and get as far away as the tiny room would allow. The movement caused you to fall out of the bed and land hard on the wood floor.
Standing up, Imhotep said something in ancient Egyptian, but your jumbled, still half-asleep brain couldn’t translate it. 
“Oh, really?” Junmyeon mocked. “Here’s my answer.” He held up the poor cat who had saved you earlier, the animal hissing threateningly at the mummy. Just like last time, Imhotep fled in a tornado of sand out the window, terrified of the innocent creature. 
“Are you alright?” Junmyeon asked as he let the cat fall from his hands. The cat landed gracefully on its feet and walked over to the bed with more dignity than you’d ever seen a human radiate. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” Baekhyun answered. After a glare from Junmyeon, he cleared his throat. “Oh. You weren’t- that’s fine. Go… check on her.” Junmyeon did just that. 
Kneeling in front of you, he pushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen in your face. Warm, soft brown eyes searched for any sign of harm. The tips of his fingers brushed against your cheek, setting the skin on fire. Or perhaps that was just the blood rushing up to your face in slight embarrassment. This man made you… nervous in a way. He could be dastardly at times, but… also very sweet. 
Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself up to your feet. “I’m fine. A little disgusted, but I’m fine.”
A smirk and knowing gleam flashed on Junmyeon’s face as he rose. “I’m sure mine was better.”
He was referring to the lip-smash he desperately pulled before he was to be dragged to the hangman’s noose. Not exactly the best first impression. 
You snorted. “No. I wouldn’t say that.” His jaw went slack. Sehun and Baekhyun snickered behind him. “Did you find the professor?” you asked in order to change the subject. 
“Yeah. He stayed out in the sun for a little long by the time we found him.”
“What are you-” Oh. Oh. That was why Imhotep was so far along in his regeneration. He’d found another victim to suck dry. 
“And he has the Book of the Dead,” Sehun added. “According to Beni, that’s what he’s going to use to raise Anacsunmum.”
“Anck-Su-Namun,” you corrected. 
“Yeah, her.”
You rolled your eyes. Why did you even bother?
You started pacing the room, trying to figure out what would be the best next move. You couldn’t keep playing hide and seek with the cat for all eternity. There needed to be a way to end this. Before he read from the book and raised-
The book… 
The book! 
You whirled back to the others. “I have an idea!”
“Care to share?”
“The Black book has always been rumored among scholars to be able to bring people back from the dead. Something I had always thought was nonsense,” you added to yourself. “But since that part is true, that means other rumors must be as well. Such as the Gold Book being able to send a soul back to the afterlife.”
“A balance.” Baekhyun looked awfully proud of himself. At least something finally stuck. 
“Exactly. Now all we have to do is find out where it's hidden.”
Junmyeon frowned. “But I thought it was supposed to be hidden with Anubis?”
“Exactly,” you agreed. “It comes from a translation of an ancient text. A stone that’s at the museum here, actually. It also says where the Black book was supposed to be hidden. I think they got their translations mixed up. So, where the scholars who originally translated it said that the golden Book of Amun-Ra was in the statue of Anubis, it's actually wherever they said the black Book of the Dead was supposed to be.”
“And where is that?”
You swallowed. “I don’t remember. We’ll have to go to the museum so I can read it again.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, Junmyeon checked the barrels of his guns, reloaded the revolvers with bullets from his belt. “Then I guess we’re headed back to the museum. Hopefully we don’t run into Ugly Face before we get to the rock.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you said with the utmost confidence. 
Sehun, who did not share that sentiment, looked up towards the ceiling. “Oh joy. Another book hunt.”
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