#now I’m just sitting in front of the TV and anxious af | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

irwen-s · 4 years

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wenrene / hybrid au (bunny!joohyun)

given prompt: in the first few weeks of bringing joohyun home, seungwan has to step out real quick to run an errand while joohyun was sleeping. when she wakes up to an empty house, she hesitantly tries to explore her surroundings, becoming a little more brave with each step bc she has the house to herself. When she spots something that piques her interest, she gets excited, but in her excitement she actually knocks something over and breaks it. Seungwan comes home to a broken item with joohyun nowhere to be seen. When she finds her, joohyun is anxious af. Seungwan is patient and joohyun eventually (but timidly) goes to seungwan and nudges her forehead against Seungwan’s bc this is how bunnies apologize to each other. She doesn’t say a word, her tears are enough for seungwan to understand

—

trigger warning: mentions of blood, but not explicit.

when joohyun wakes up, the first thing she becomes aware of is that she’s alone.

cold fear washes over her for a few heavy seconds as she stiffens up in anxiety, but the tension slowly leaves her body once she begins to take notice of her surroundings.

for one, the tv in her room is on and playing at a low volume when she knows it hadn’t been when she’d dozed off. and the blankets she’d gone to bed with tucked loosely over herself are now swaddling her up warmly.

it makes it a little difficult for joohyun to completely disentangle herself from the blankets wrapped around her, even with her small frame wriggling around. she eventually gives up, instead sitting up from the bed with a small, sleepy huff.

her eyes immediately land on a familiar stuffed animal squirrel perched on her nightstand, and the sight makes her smile for the first time since waking. that definitely hadn’t been there when she’d gone to sleep. it makes it obvious who placed it there.

there’s a sheet of paper in the squirrel’s arms with a picture of something. joohyun has to lean back in order for the image to become less blurry for her, but once she does, she sees that it’s a very neatly done sketch of the telephone in the living room. a red circle is drawn around one of the buttons.

slowly, joohyun crawls out of bed, dragging along with her one of the blankets still wrapped around her frame. she takes the paper and the squirrel with her too, hugging the latter to her chest and absentmindedly nosing into its fur, breathing in its soothingly familiar scent as she carefully steps out of her room.

the wooden floors for once feel cold beneath her feet, and joohyun’s ears twitch from under the blanket at how silent the hallway is. she darts her eyes over the rest of the doors near her, notes how they’re all closed. her grip on the stuffed animal tightens.

slowly, hesitantly, joohyun pads down the hallway. the house is eerily silent save for the sounds of her footsteps echoing against the floor.

emerging into the living room, joohyun sighs quietly in relief; the open space is much more preferable, much more homely and inviting even when devoid of people. when she glances toward the corner of the room, the corner of her lips twitch upward upon spotting yet another familiar stuffed animal seated next to the telephone.

there is also a piece of paper in the toy bunny’s arms: a simple, red arrow points down at the same button the first paper has circled. joohyun adds both items to her armload of papers and stuffed animals, nose buried in the bunny’s pelt, before tentatively pressing down on it.

a few beeps from the telephone cause her to startle back a step, but then suddenly a voice is speaking up, and joohyun’s ears perk up in instant recognition.

“hey, hyunnie, this is wannie speaking! if you’re hearing this message it probably means you woke up and followed all the clues into the living room. sorry about that if i scared you, by the way! i just didn’t know how else to tell you this without waking you up. i didn’t want to leave a note either since i wasn’t sure it would be easy to read.

“did you have a nice nap, hyun? you were sleeping so peacefully, i hope you were dreaming about something good. did you know your nose twitches in your sleep? it’s really cute to see, hyunnie.”

at this, joohyun feels her cheeks pinkening. she buries her face further into the stuffed animals in her arms.

“okay, i’m getting too sidetracked. i think you might have noticed already, but mom and dad aren’t home right now, so you’re the only one left in the house at the moment. i had to leave to go buy some stuff for dinner since mom texted me saying she forgot a few things.

“i don’t know what she’s planning on making, but i’m gonna buy some tteokbokki for her to make as an apology for having us all leave you alone at home. but you can get something from the kitchen if you’re hungry, hyunnie. and you know how to call any of us if there’s an emergency.

“i think that’s it. i swear i’ll be back soon, okay? i left around two o’clock, i should be back in about an hour. just sit tight for now. i’ll be home in a bit, hyun.”

the message ends with a click, leaving joohyun standing in the silence of the living room. for a few moments she doesn’t move, breathing absentmindedly into the toy bunny’s fur. her own ears twitch atop her head, peeking out from beneath her blanket and listening for any telltale signs of life in the house. but there’s nothing. she truly is alone.

a weird sort of tingling excitement shoots through her, prickling the tips of her fingers and toes. on the balls of her feet, she slowly swivels around in a circle, taking in her surroundings once again.

the thing is, it’s only been a few weeks since seungwan brought her home here. even as the house has become completely familiar to her, there’s an entirely different feeling in the walls now that there is no one else around. she’s a little scared, but her curiosity to explore is quickly overpowering that.

besides, she thinks, clutching the bunny and squirrel closer to her. she’s not actually that alone after all.

with a little gleeful hop in her step, joohyun begins to pad deeper into the house.

—

the front door swings open as seungwan steps inside, bags of groceries gripped in one hand. “hyun, i’m home,” seungwan sings, toeing her shoes off in the doorway. its only after she’s tucked them neatly in the shoe rack and locked the door behind her that she realizes the house is dead silent, and there is no bunny hybrid in sight.

a concerned frown adorns seungwan’s face, but she moves into the kitchen to sort the groceries into the fridge. “maybe she’s still asleep,” seungwan mumbles to herself.

once she’s finished, seungwan steps back into the living room, only to freeze once she spots the mess of broken shards scattered across the floor. she immediately recognizes them as the remains of one of her mom’s prized statues she’d brought back from one of her travels. was it of an elephant? seungwan can’t remember, there’s honestly too many.

her rambling thoughts come to a screeching halt though, once she spots the drops of blood amidst the mess.

“shit,” seungwan hisses in alarm, immediately surging into motion. “joohyun? joohyun!”

panic overtakes her for a few seconds as seungwan calls loudly into the hallways for the missing hybrid, worry climbing in her stomach and causing her insides to twist in fear. her heart hammers loudly in her chest, and her ears roar with a whistling noise.

“joohyun!” seungwan calls again, before she’s cut off by a yelp of surprise as she nearly trips. when she looks down, the blank marble eyes of a stuffed bunny gaze back up at her from the ground. a dark smear of red stains its faux white fur.

all at once, seungwan shudders to a stop, pressing her palms against her thighs to still their trembling. she hadn’t been thinking. she’d forgotten. seungwan swears under her breath, breathing in and out for a few seconds before collecting herself together.

“hyunnie?” seungwan murmurs in a quieter voice as she steps into the hallway. she doesn’t miss the few drops of red scattered across the floorboards, and it makes her swallow heavily with apprehension. “hyun, it’s wannie. i’m sorry for yelling, and i’m sorry if i scared you. i was panicked, since i’m worried. i swear i’m not mad.”

some of the doors are open, leading seungwan to venture joohyun must have been exploring on her own while she’d been gone. she takes a peek into each room regardless, door shut or not. but there’s no sign of joohyun in any of them.

the panic she’s been trying to suppress rises with every empty room she comes across, and it’s after checking joohyun’s room to see no signs of life save for the tv still murmuring at low volume that seungwan finds it harder to breathe.

almost resignedly, seungwan clicks open the door of her own room. “hyun?” she mumbles, voice cracking hopelessly, but then falls silent upon looking at her bed, neatly made and untouched.

quietly, seungwan steps further into the room. the soft thump of her feet against the floorboards is the only sound as she moves closer, but the air crackles with anticipation. seungwan holds her breath.

when she rounds the edge of her bed, her eyes automatically land on the bundle of purple-spotted blanket, hunched near her nightstand.

seungwan lets out a smalls exhale, crouching down nearby. “hyunnie,” she whispers softly, seeing the head of the blanket twitch. “it’s okay, i’m not mad.”

for a moment, everything is still, and seungwan bites her lip nervously. but then she hears a quiet sniffle, before the blanket begins to tremble.

seungwan’s heart breaks.

“hyun,” she coaxes again, voice low and gentle. “hyun, i’m right here. it’s okay, baby.”

slowly, tentatively, the edge of the blanket lifts, and seungwan comes face to face with joohyun’s teary face, her bunny ears drooped and her nose running messily. upon meeting seungwan’s eyes, she begins to cry even harder.

“oh, hyunnie,” seungwan whispers, moving forward to carefully pull joohyun into her arms. joohyun lets out a choked sob but offers no resistance, trembling against seungwan with her face tucked into the side of her neck. seungwan sits down completely, quietly rocking the little bundle in her lap and murmuring soft reassurances, letting joohyun cry it out.

“i’m so sorry for yelling, hyun, i didn’t mean to scare you,” seungwan says softly, rubbing joohyun’s back through the blanket. she hears joohyun hiccup wetly over her shoulder, struggling to breathe, and she reaches a hand up to begin gently rubbing the base of joohyun’s bunny ears where they meet her head. the action immediately causes joohyun to shudder from sensitivity and exhale shakily, slumping bonelessly against seungwan’s chest.

with each light stroke to joohyun’s delicate ears, a wheezing, stuttered gasp leaves her; seungwan doesn’t stop though, and gradually her breathing begins to calm, body tremors lessening. she can feel the little white hairs beneath her fingers quiver at every touch, joohyun’s ears twitching and so visibly responsive, drooping pliantly under her hand.

“that’s it, hyunnie, just relax,” seungwan murmurs gently, soothingly, as joohyun shudders and sighs helplessly into her shoulder, hiccuping every few breaths. “i’ve got you, baby, you’re okay.”

she continues rubbing around the base of joohyun’s ears, occasionally scratching lightly at her head, until joohyun begins to emit a noise between a squeak and a purr, and that’s when seungwan knows she’s reached the state of peak calmness, her frazzled mind now fuzzy with pure sensation. seungwan smiles for the first time since she’s arrived home, relieved.

carefully leaning back, she eases joohyun away from her chest to take a look at her face. her hand falls from joohyun’s ears to cradle her jaw, gently stroking over the tear tracks on her cheek. joohyun’s eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, stare tiredly back at her.

seungwan gives a small, comforting smile, leaning forward until her nose bumps against joohyun’s. a moment later she feels the hybrid nuzzling back with a breathy sigh, her eyes slipping shut.

when seungwan finally pulls away, joohyun reluctantly following, she moves her gaze down to where joohyun’s hands clutch loosely at the hem of her shirt. there’s dried blood splotched along her fingers as well as her clothes, particularly darker patches of red staining the blanket where joohyun must have clutched onto.

seungwan sucks in a quiet breath, tenderly cradling joohyun’s hands in her own. there are cuts along the pads of her fingers, some blood still oozing out of them. “you tried to clean them up,” she whispers in realization, her chest twisting painfully. “oh, hyun.”

joohyun whimpers nervously in response, and seungwan traces her thumb behind the shell of her human ear, cooing softly until her nerves settle down again. gently, seungwan maneuvers the hybrid around in her lap as she continues to inspect joohyun for further injuries. she finds a few cuts along her knees and ankles, which makes her heart ache at the thought of joohyun dragging herself through the house while bleeding and injured.

seungwan reaches over to her nightstand to grab a few tissues. “lets get you cleaned up, okay?” she murmurs, dabbing at joohyun’s cheeks. joohyun only nods against her hand, meekly avoiding her gaze.

she’ll have to do something about that later, seungwan thinks absentmindedly with a frown, seeing the way joohyun keeps ducking her head away. but right now she has to focus on treating those wounds.

“i’m gonna have to pick you up, hyun,” seungwan says apologetically as she cradles joohyun to her chest, still partly bundled up in her blanket. the hybrid reaches for her shirt before quickly yanking her hands back with a small whimper, clutching onto her blanket instead. seungwan gives her a concerned, tender look. “i don’t mind, hyunnie. the bloodstains don’t matter.”

with one arm supporting joohyun’s back and the other beneath her knees, seungwan carefully gets to her feet, and joohyun reflexively grabs onto her with a squeak of fear. seungwan hums soothingly, taking care to move with slow steps as she carries them to the door.

“does it hurt?” seungwan asks quietly as she pads down the hallway. she feels joohyun shake her head against her chest, and seungwan tightens her grip with a little, wry quirk of her lips. “liar.”

joohyun only responds with a breathy noise.

when they reach the restroom, seungwan carefully sets joohyun down on the counter, brushing the hair back from her face with a soft smile. “i know you don’t like voicing your pain,” seungwan says understandingly, “but it’s okay if it hurts, all right?”

joohyun looks back up at her, quiet and seemingly resigned. eventually her gaze shifts to the side with a little nod. seungwan leans in to press a light kiss against her nose. “lets do your legs first.”

she washes her hands, then helps joohyun run her ankles and knees beneath lukewarm water from the sink. joohyun doesn’t make a noise the entire time, but seungwan is pressed close enough against her back to feel her stiffen, hear her breath catching in her throat when seungwan rinses her wounds with soap.

“it stings, baby, i know,” seungwan murmurs against her temple. joohyun doesn’t show any indication to having heard her.

seungwan finally turns the tap off, grabbing a nearby towel to dab at the cuts as they begin to ooze blood again. she feels joohyun lean her head against her shoulder, nosing along the crook of her neck and breathing quietly against her as she presses down on each injury to stop the bleeding.

petroleum jelly follows after, applied carefully with a cotton swab, and then seungwan covers the wounds up with bandaids. she considered using purple ones, but then thought against it and just picked out the plain ones.

“done,” seungwan breathes as she straightens her back, rubbing joohyun’s shoulder soothingly. “fingers next. you’re okay, hyunnie?”

she feels joohyun nod against her neck, but when seungwan tries to pull away to look at her, the hybrid follows her movements to stick close to her.

seungwan sighs fondly, giving joohyun a light scratch behind the ear. “all right then.”

the whole process repeats for joohyun’s hands, and seungwan remains just as attentive and careful, but she’s realizing something is different when a muffled noise manages to escape from where joohyun’s face is buried against her. the cuts on joohyun’s fingers are deeper, more serious, seungwan knows. she tries to move a little faster.

its just after seungwan finishes washing joohyun’s fingers that she feels wetness against neck, making seungwan still with the towel in her hand. “it’s okay, baby,” she murmurs gently, hugging joohyun closer with her other arm. “i know. let it out, it’s okay.”

joohyun sniffles quietly against her neck, nosing along her skin as seungwan carefully dries her fingers. there’s a small hiss when seungwan has to squeeze her thumb when the cut there bleeds more than the others, and seungwan presses a soothing kiss to the top of joohyun’s head, conveying in it all the sympathy that she can.

when seungwan is finished, there are bandaids taped around almost all of joohyun’s fingertips. she breathes a sigh of relief before clutching joohyun’s shoulders and gently pushing. reluctantly, joohyun moves back.

there are tears wetting her cheeks again, of course, but seungwan only smiles softly, doesn’t comment as she grabs a nearby tissue to wipe them away. “my hyun,” seungwan coos. “so strong.”

joohyun closes her eyes, a few more tears slipping out as she exhales shakily. seungwan is about to bend away to get another tissue when joohyun leans forward so that her forehead touches seungwan’s. immediately, seungwan stills.

for a few breaths of silence, the two of them remain pressed against one another, seungwan standing between joohyun’s knees. her eyes are open, gazing with gentle understanding at joohyun’s closed ones, watching another tear slide down her cheek as her lips quiver almost imperceptibly.

“it’s okay,” seungwan murmurs softly, tucking a stray hair behind joohyun’s ear. “there’s nothing to forgive, darling. accidents happen.”

when joohyun finally pulls away, she won’t meet her eyes. instead, she clutches at seungwan’s hands, neatly bandaged fingertips brushing against her own. “thank you,” she whispers hoarsely, voice scratchy and raw.

seungwan pulls joohyun into her arms again, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head. her heart feels warm, content, at ease. “of course, hyunnie.”

#wenrene #wendy #irene #red velvet #mine #hybrid au #hello this is the welcome back gift i offer to everyone who bothers to read my blog #this is very long overdue #to the friend that requested this from me #i hope this is all right!#i went a wee bit off your prompt but ye #sfw

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ayankun · 3 years

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coffee shop au bitches (working title)

here, have this rough draft of the first half of part 1. consider it proof of concept. (the concept is Destiel Coffee Shop AU, but actually good) (”good;” YMMV)

9.3k words; Cas is human like everyone else so to compensate I made him socially anxious af; there’s a brief unpleasantness wherein someone in customer service gets harassed so watch out for that I guess; Cas is also carrying a lot of baggage (literally and metaphorically) and it’s vague for now but a little wearisome so GLHF I promise when it’s done-done they all get the kind of happy endings they deserved from the show

The town of Lebanon, Kansas sprang up without warning, its tree-lined streets shockingly claustrophobic after the three hours of patchwork browns and greens streaming by the smudgy window, the rolling plains uninterrupted to the very ends of the earth until the blank blue September sky finally picked up where the horizon left off.

Castiel felt his eyes strain, forced to reel in his thousand-yard stare, as he squinted at the blur of tidy little houses perched along Lebanon's brief outskirts. He blinked away from the window and pushed himself to his feet, sidling carefully into the aisle to pull his duffle down from the overhead rack. In short order, the bus turned onto the tidy little Americana main street and rolled up to a tidy little bus stop, and, reaching back into his seat to retrieve his briefcase, he squinted out at this, too.

The screech of well-worn brakes, the brace against the final lurch of inertia, the hiss and clack of the doors at the front and back folding open; with no more pomp and circumstance than that, Castiel's journey reached its end. Clutching the handle of his briefcase and slinging the straps of his duffle over one shoulder, he edged down the aisle and nodded his thanks to the driver on his way down the steps. Finally, Castiel planted his sensible shoes on the cracked sidewalk, looked carefully up and down the stretch of unremarkable, middle-of-nowhere civilization, and wondered what the hell he thought he was doing here.

The bus shrieked and rumbled back into the non-existent late afternoon traffic, a thick gout of black exhaust signaling its farewell, leaving Castiel behind before he had a chance to change his mind. He watched its departure absently for half a moment, road-weary and numb. Then he hiked his duffle a little more snug against his back, turned around, and began an unhurried stroll the shady two and a half blocks back to the motel on the south side of town.

---

"Been expecting you," the woman behind the counter said the second Castiel pulled open the glass door to the motel office.

He paused, looked over his shoulder, saw no one among the growing shadows of the motel's empty parking lot, no one except a trucker hopping out of his cab parked at the gas 'n sip on the opposite corner. Castiel watched him jog across the street towards the Biggerson's, the lights of its enormous, highway-facing sign flickering on in welcome, and turned back to shoulder his way inside. "I did reserve a room over the phone," Castiel said, approaching the counter, "And I was told that a few . . . personal items would be held for me at the front desk?"

The woman, Billie, according to her name tag, responded with a nod, less in answer to his question and more in the way one does when one is not surprised by what they've just heard. She pulled the keyboard to the old desktop computer closer to herself with one hand, and held the other out, palm up, to Castiel. "ID and credit card."

Setting his briefcase down on the floor, Castiel dug inside his overcoat's interior pocket for his wallet. By rote he thumbed out the military ID to give her, but at the last second his heart gave a sharp little twist and he drew it back. Her lips twitched, nonplussed, but she waited patiently until he handed her his driver's licence instead. She studied the picture on it for a second, mouthed the name, and carefully considered the face on the photo compared to the face on the man in front of her. He shifted his feet nervously, thinking he should have just given her the first one, if only to avoid looking any more disreputable than he already did.

Evidently their hangdog looks matched to her satisfaction, though, and she snapped the plastic down onto the counter, shifted her attention to the computer to check him in.

"Room's yours for the week," she read off the screen as he retrieved his licence and put the credit card down in its place. She slid it over to herself without looking, only glancing down to read the numbers, obsidian black fingernails clacking proficiently over the ten-key peripheral plugged into the side of the keyboard. "Checkout's at eleven on the 25th."

When she slid the card back over to him, Castiel palmed it off the counter, put it back into the wallet behind his IDs (driver's license on top), tucked the wallet back into his overcoat. "Um. I'm not exactly sure yet -- I may need to extend my stay." Absently, he wondered why he sounded like he was apologizing for it.

Billie looked up from the computer screen at him, neutral. "Whatever you need. We can do you by the week, month, whatever. Got your card on file, so you just let me know when I should stop charging it."

Castiel tried a smile he didn't feel, thinking as he did so that he probably shouldn't have bothered with one, what with how it seemed to crumple his face in unnatural ways. "I will let you know, thank you."

She pulled a blank key card from a drawer and ran it through the machine to code it for his room. "Here you go," she said, slapping it onto the counter with another plasticky snap, "Room 401."

"Thank you," he said again, taking the key card and putting it into his coat's front pocket. She held up a hand to keep him from running straight off to the room, a slightly unnecessary gesture, since he had no intention to do so. Not without the banker's box that she was now pulling out from under the counter.

It was sealed with tamper-evident tape, noticeably intact as she spun it 180 degrees so he could also see his name and a brief description of the contents inked with a tidy hand in the space provided on the lid. Billie pushed the box toward him and then tapped a nail over one of the items on the contents list. "She's parked out front."

Castiel peered down at the item she had indicated. "Keys," it said, rather cryptically, in that unfamiliar, efficient script. He nodded. "Thank you."

He bent to pick up the handle of his briefcase, letting the duffle fall farther across his back as he did so in order to free up space under his arm for the banker's box. It worked, albeit inelegantly, and he felt a little foolish as he fumbled the box off the counter and turned to go. He felt even worse when Billie said to his back: "I'm sorry for your loss."

No part of him wanted to say "thank you" again, so he just paused long enough to indicate that he had heard her, and then went out through the glass door and back into the shadowed parking lot without saying a damn thing.

---

Room 401 opened into a concise sort of entryway that pointed him toward a small kitchenette lit primarily by the glare of the Biggerson's sign falling in through the window. The space featured a round table with peeling laminate, two plastic-and-stainless-steel chairs, a sink and a microwave and a loudly humming fridge. It was downright lavish compared to the accommodations Castiel had shifted between for the better part of his life.

The banker's box went onto the table, to be ignored until the time came Castiel felt ready to pry inside.

He shrugged his duffle off onto the end of the bed, the briefcase going onto the floor at its foot. Successfully offloaded, Castiel turned and sat beside the duffle with his hands in his lap, looking at the boxy little TV set sitting on top of a banged up little dresser; at the dusty looking armchair shoved back in the corner to his right, under a dusty looking lamp; at the dim alcove immediately to the right of the TV, keeping discreet the bathroom sink and mirror and the door to the toilet and shower.

He didn't know what to do now.

Twisting to look at the digital clock on the bedside table, he marked the time with no real interest. Just after 6:30. Not enough daylight left to try and find his way around town, too early to sleep. Not that he really felt compelled to do either of those things. Not that he felt compelled to do anything.

But he had to do something, though, didn't he? He had to keep moving forward, in whatever small way he could manage. He had to.

With a long sigh that seemed almost to empty him completely, Castiel got to his feet. He pulled his overcoat off, went to the alcove closet to hang it up, stopped at the sink to splash some water on his face. He took a moment to appreciate his appearance -- mournful and aggressively unkempt after two solid days on the road -- before stepping out of the alcove to retrieve the briefcase. He opened it on the bed and slipped the laptop out, digging around for the charger, and brought both to the dresser, setting the laptop to one side and plugging it into the outlet he found by tracing the TV's power cord.

He stood there, hunched a little over the open laptop, waiting for it to wake from its hibernating state. He could check his email, at least, or scroll through the news he'd missed while in the air and in taxis and in the air again and in buses that sailed too quickly through isolated islands of 4G signal that lit up only a single bar before going dark again.

His desktop loaded, the wallpaper a heavily-filtered photo he'd pulled from who-knew-where: just an expanse of faded teal, adorned only by a single, old-fashioned kite, bold and bright with primary colors, pinned there on the sky by an unseen breeze for all eternity. He had set it a long time ago and never changed it; the image was a small comfort, though for what reason, he couldn't tell. It wasn't his memory.

The fleeting sense of well-being provided by the tranquil wallpaper faded as quickly as it had come. The only Wi-Fi network in range was named "Big D's iPhone" and it was locked. Castiel refreshed the network scan a few times, hoping to see something that looked like it was related to the motel, but nothing else appeared. He fished his phone out of his pocket for a second opinion, but it, too, displayed just the one fishy looking hotspot and very little 4G, even though he swung it around like an idiot, dowsing the room for a signal, watching the littlest bar wink at him no matter which out-of-the-way corner he took it to.

He even found himself squeezing between the table and the window, pushing the curtain aside as if the radio waves were having trouble making it through the few millimeters of dusty fabric. He knew better, but it couldn't hurt. In the Biggerson's lot, catty corner to the motel, a sleek black muscle car came to life with an animal growl, and he watched it prowl out onto the street and streak out towards the highway, taking Big D's iPhone with it.

---

It wasn't Billie manning the motel office when Castiel made his way back inside. He didn't know why this should surprise him, but the fact that his expectations had been subverted in such a minor way somehow made him stutter his step as he entered.

The woman lounging in the office chair with her boots on the counter didn't wear a nametag. She did look up from her magazine -- Knives Illustrated -- but only for a second, just a cool, cursory glance to let him know that she knew he was there and also that she wasn't too bothered by it.

"Howdy there, Clarence," she drawled.

Castiel didn't look over his shoulder, this time, but he did falter to a premature stop halfway to the counter, searching the vast middle distance as he tried to quickly figure out if he had enough information to parse the greeting. He didn't.

"My name is Castiel," he informed her cautiously, eyes lifting to meet hers over the cover of her magazine.

She turned a page. "Knew it was something hokey like that."

"Yes, well . . . hello," he said, brow furrowing. She turned another page and he pulled his hand down over his rough five o'clock shadow, a token from his time on the road. He probably should have cleaned up before leaving the room, but here he was. He stepped forward, "Excuse me--"

"You're excused," she sing-songed at him. The magazine dropped just enough to reveal her razor-sharp grin; it was not too dissimilar to the image on the front cover.

"--I was wondering if you knew where I might find a decent Wi-Fi signal in town." He arrived at the counter as he was speaking, and placed both his hands palms down on its surface. When she didn't stop looking at him, he picked his hands back up and dropped them to his sides.

She went back to the magazine. "Depends. Business or pleasure?"

"Alright," Castiel said, defeated, hands clenching irritably at nothing, "I apologize for having bothered you. Enjoy your evening."

He turned his back on her, and wasn't going to stop even when he heard the magazine slap closed and her boots clump to the floor, but still that's exactly what he ended up doing as she called, "Hold up, C."

It was the impromptu nickname more than anything, since hearing it inspired him to send a pinched look of consternation back in her direction, where she was now leaning towards him with her forearms planted on the counter, her straight dark hair falling over one shoulder. "I was only having a little fun," she told him once she was sure she had secured his attention, "We don't get fresh meat like you too often around these parts, and a girl's got needs. How could I resist?"

"That is a very forward way to speak to a customer," Castiel intoned, the dip of his head turning judgemental. He'd seen looks like that before; his skin crawled when they were for him. His hands balled up and flapped open again, trying to shake it off. "Good night."

"Best bet's the Roadhouse," she told him just as he reached out to push open the door. Again, he paused, against his better judgement, and she took that as her cue to continue, "Just head on up Main Street, you can't miss it. If you hit the prairie, you've gone too far."

Castiel ducked his head, hiding the twitch of a small, rueful smile at the joke that slipped its way in at the last second. "Thanks," he said, more to the half-opened door than to anyone else.

"You watch yourself out there, fresh meat," she hollered a parting warning as the door swung shut behind him, "The freaks come out at night."

---

Castiel walked back to his room to get his overcoat, taking in the rosy hues of twilight that striated the western sky dead ahead of him, chewing over the likelihood that the insouciant woman meant what she'd said. He couldn't imagine that a small town like this would be terribly dangerous after dark, but, then again --

Stopping at the door to 401, he carefully prodded his better judgement into at least considering taking the car -- he looked at it from the corner of his eye, trying not to dwell too long on the idea that its previous owner would have left indelible personal traces behind -- and, sure enough, he wasn't ready to go digging. Not in the box, and certainly not in the car.

Castiel gently shook out the fist he had made, swept his eyes over the brilliance of the western sky, and decided he was in the right kind of mood for a walk.

He unlocked his door, entered the room to grab his overcoat, stuffed the laptop back into the briefcase, exited again, pointed himself towards Main Street without giving the car another thought.

---

Turned out she was right about one thing, the Roadhouse was impossible to miss.

From the way the neon sign lit up the rustic wood siding of the cowboy-chic exterior, he half worried the establishment was a bar of some sort. The windows were dark, the shades drawn down against the setting sun, so he only could only make a guess based on what the exterior looked like. Hesitating on the sidewalk under a street lamp, Castiel squinted up at it and waged a minor civil war with himself as to whether it would be worth it to go in and find out.

He slowly turned around on the spot, in his little pool of light, casting up and down the nearly deserted street for some kind of sign that would help him choose one way or the other. Small town Kansas didn't seem to have much going for it, in the way of nightlife; from what he could tell, the storefronts looked exclusively like the little mom-and-pops one would expect from the heartland -- the highway-adjacent Biggerson's the evident exception -- and all of these were either closed or closing.

He completed his inspection, coming face to face once again with the Roadhouse. On the one hand, it purportedly had Wi-Fi, his current mission being to locate the same. On the other hand, it looked like a bar, and he didn't want to walk in there with his out-of-towner face, with his uncool overcoat and his briefcase, and specifically avoid ordering alcohol.

He was just coming around to the idea that he could very well survive off the grid for a night when a pair of headlights attached to a shadow came roaring down from the north end of the street at him, the car banking into a smooth, undoubtedly illegal U-turn in the middle of the block, slinking confidently into the open space directly under Castiel's street lamp. The engine cut off, then the lights, and then a man was ducking out of the driver's side, slamming the door shut behind him.

Castiel was stuck. He hadn't counted on this particular type of social awkwardness, caught loitering on the street without anything to say for himself. He averted his eyes, expecting the man to pass him by and go on with his business, but to his increasing embarrassment and frustration, the guy stepped up onto the sidewalk and shoved his keys into a pocket of his green canvas jacket and definitely didn't continue on his way.

"Coming or going?" he asked. The voice was something of a deep growl, but the tone was friendly enough.

Castiel looked up to be polite, or, at least, to be less weird. "I don't know," he found himself saying. Any chance to possibly come across as a reasonable human being was thoroughly smashed, he thought. He couldn't talk his way out of this one, even if he tried. Especially if he tried. "I've only just arrived," he added.

The guy looked him up and down, not in a lecherous way, or even in a macho, sizing up the competition way; just an unguarded appraisal of his bus-rumpled appearance, the suspicious looking briefcase, the disconcerting way he was caught standing in the dark looking at the door of a place without going in. The inspection was over in a second, and concluded with a good-natured nod and an open-handed wave that clearly said, "yeah, I figured out that much on my own."

"Well, we don't bite," the guy said aloud, slapping Castiel hard on the shoulder, making him rock from the impact and almost exactly undermining the sentiment. He immediately turned and stepped up to the Roadhouse's door, hauling it open and beckoning back at Castiel to get his ass inside. "C'mon, at this rate they'll be closed before you make up your mind."

If Castiel had been looking for some kind of sign, this was clearly providence's way of sending him one.

Even so, he realized he had started moving forward to accept the invitation without consciously meaning to, and, well, he had a lifetime of conditioning to thank for that. Castiel, ever the good little soldier, taking orders at face value, instead of thinking for himself. He frowned a little on the inside -- remembering to briefly tug a smile of thanks on the outside -- until the wave of warm, coffee-scented air hit him in the face along with the unavoidable understanding that the Roadhouse was not, in fact, a bar.

The relief of this revelation was powerful enough to enable him to put his weird little hangups back inside the box where they belonged, his outside smile going soft and honest around the edges, and he ducked his head sheepishly at the guy, who had followed him in. Automatically angling himself towards the register, as one did one when one entered a coffee shop, he said, "I was informed there was Wi-Fi here. Just not what 'here' was. 'The Roadhouse' sounds -- I thought perhaps it was a bar."

His honesty caught himself off-guard, uncertain as to where the need to explain himself to this stranger came from, exactly. It was probably because he had already demonstrated the kind of small town friendliness that made Castiel feel like it would be read as rude if he didn't attempt a bit of smalltalk in return. The guy looked like a nice enough sort of person to meet halfway; about Castiel's age, a little younger, perhaps; kind of a non-threatening good-ol'-boy with his ripped jeans, plaid flannel, and his not-quite-scruffy-not-quite-clean-cut style. Castiel thought that maybe he could survive being social for a minute or two, with someone like this.

Instantly, this thought hit a bump in the road, as his new friend twisted a funny look at him. "Got something against bars?"

Castiel dropped his eyes and tried to ignore his obvious misstep while he drifted into the back of the line, behind a towering mountain of a man in a black leather jacket. Castiel wasn't short, by any stretch of the imagination, but the two men hemming him in were both taller still. He thought about his answer to the question, flicking rapidly through the options, but wasn't able to pick one that was both simple and truthful before the guy abruptly leaned in. This startled Castiel, who instinctively shifted away a half step, shoulder bumping up against the glass that separated him from a shiny brass espresso machine.

The guy didn't notice his discomfort, having breached Castiel's personal space to say in a stage whisper: "If it's rough company you're worried about, nothin' to be afraid of, around here. The real seedy joints are across town. Ain't that right, Tiny?"

At this last, he straightened up and raised his voice some, directing the question straight past Castiel.

Castiel turned his head to see the huge leather jacket man fixing the tall canvas jacket man with a full-bodied glare. He also, at this time, took in the man's shaved head and appreciated the twisting serpent logo coiled on the back of the jacket. He shifted even closer to the espresso machine, clearing the space between the two men as best he could.

But "Tiny" didn't otherwise react, just turned back and stepped up to the register, boots heavy on the wooden floor.

"Wi-Fi's pretty decent here, yeah," Castiel's companion went on. Castiel looked back to him, surprised to see him relaxed and indifferent, like he hadn't just specifically tried to antagonize a 400-pound member of a biker gang after dark. "And the lattes are alright. Fair warning: your choices are pretty much either that or black coffee, those're the only things the kid can't mess up too bad."

Off the guy's nod over Castiel's shoulder, he obediently turned and saw the referenced kid -- in actuality, a young, sandy-haired man of about seventeen or eighteen -- working the espresso machine on the other side of the glass. The milk frother hissed demonstratively for a moment, the kid's face pinched in comically serious concentration on the task, but when he shoved the arm back into the off position, he looked up to see who was watching him and broke out into one of the purest smiles Castiel had ever seen.

"Hello!" the kid said, sunnily, like Castiel was his closest friend and not a literal stranger gawking at him like a zoo animal. The hand that had been operating the machine was summarily raised in greeting, palm forward, fingers wide. He radiated a positively angelic energy that instantly made Castiel feel at ease, despite the anxiety of the last several minutes, somehow even despite the soul-crushing weight he'd brought with him to town.

"Hello . . . Jack," Castiel replied, after realizing he could make out the kid's name tag pinned to his apron. Pinned to their apron, rather, as he belatedly noted the "they/them" pronoun declaration stuck on underneath the name with white label tape. He smiled, the desire to return just a small portion of the hospitality he'd received so far rising ferociously inside him, one of the strongest emotions he'd had the pleasure of feeling in recent memory. "I've been informed I should try one of your lattes."

He nodded at the stainless steel carafe of foamed milk in the kid's hand, and they looked down at it as if they'd forgotten it was there. "Oh! Yes, I suppose you should." They poured the milk into a waiting paper cup of espresso, face contorting back into that look of supreme concentration for only as long as it took to pour, smiling back up at Castiel the second the task was done. "I'm still learning how to make everything, but I'm getting better at the basics."

"Yeah, you are," the guy behind Castiel said, in that manner of speaking that was as aggressive as it was supportive. Jack grinned shyly, ducking their head at the praise, and shuffled the drink off to the pick-up counter on the other side of the register.

Castiel looked back over to see the guy grinning after the kid, and a thought hit him. "Are you their . . . parent?" he asked, tripping and catching himself on Jack's pronoun only slightly, a very jarring rush of panic hitting him in time to swerve around using the word "father," just in case gender-nonconformity ran in the family.

The . . . person met Castiel's eye and then looked away, shrugging a little. "Oh me? Nah. I mean. Sorta. We're kind of just, looking after them, I guess you could say."

The use of the first-person plural pronoun seemed like something Castiel would pry into next, were he the prying sort. Instead, he very, very briefly wondered what the average household looked like in Lebanon, Kansas, these days, or if he'd just stumbled into the exception on accident.

A hand was extended his way, along with a name. "Dean," Castiel was told as he accepted the handshake, "He/him, in case you were wondering."

Castiel let out an inward sigh of relief, and the guy winked before adding: "Aquarius. Stones, not Beatles. Star Wars and Star Trek, but not the garbage that came out after the nineties." Dean let Castiel's hand go with a chewed-on smile and something of a self-deprecating eyebrow wag. "That's basically all the important stuff you have to know about me up front."

"Castiel," he returned, "And . . . I am also a man."

Dean snorted a short little breath at that, eyes bright. He rubbed his chin, scratching through the close-trimmed stubble. "Castiel, huh?"

Castiel pressed his lips together and took a moment to take stock of the state of his shoes, squaring himself for the inevitable question about his uncommon name, but for once it didn't come. Dean didn't have the chance to ask it. When Castiel glanced up, Dean was looking over Castiel's shoulder in the direction of the register, all traces of his friendly disposition replaced by a cold scowl.

As one did, Castiel, too, turned to follow Dean's gaze, searching out the source of his sudden displeasure. For a second he assumed it had something to do with Jack, maybe getting into some difficult situation with a customer, but at a glance he saw that he only had it half right. Instead of Jack, it was the young woman behind the register, who pulled her wrist out of Tiny's pawlike grasp as Castiel watched.

Castiel's throat closed up, his second-hand anxiety over the situation momentarily flooring him. Embarrassed, he looked away, out over the sparsely populated cafe, everyone he saw slowly doing the same: turning back to their screens and their friends, pretending nothing had happened.

Everyone but Dean, Castiel saw as he finally looked back up at him. Dean was still watching Tiny closely, his brow drawn down and his mouth set in a firm line. He flicked his eyes down to Castiel when he caught him looking, and did a stuttered double take when he realized he had accidentally leveled that glare at him.

Dean relaxed his expression into something more neutral, obviously seeing the stress on Castiel's face; while Dean was clearly angered by Tiny's overreach, Castiel couldn't help but project a grim ache that he didn't want to name. Dean's head tilted, as if he was slowly cottoning on to the depth of Castiel's discomfort the longer he looked at him, and Castiel saw his jaw clench the moment before they both looked sharply back over at the register, hearing the woman's voice rise, frustrated and disgusted, over the country twang of the canned music pumping through the coffee shop's speakers.

"You kiss your mama with that mouth?" The young woman had taken a full step back into the space behind the counter, dodging out of the way of Tiny's reach. Castiel could see fire in her eyes, and barely registered Jack standing nervously on her other side.

Tiny laughed, a rolling chuckle that filled Castiel's gut with acid. The huge man leaned up against the counter, shoving a shoulder as far as it would go into the open space next to the register, and curled his hand around the far edge of the counter. "Why, you jealous? How 'bout you pucker up, sweetcheeks, let me show you what you're missing."

In an instant, the nerves and disgust flushed out of Castiel's system, and in its place a white-hot righteous anger swirled up. His hands twitched, settling for fists, and he took a lurching step forward, his briefcase swinging roughly into his leg, the emotion spilling out of him in a growl of "Hey, asshole--"

"Yeah, alright--" Dean growled at the same time, taking the same step forward, bringing him even with Castiel, the two men suddenly a solid wall staring daggers into Tiny's back.

"Stay out of this, Dean," the young woman said, fierce. The tone in her voice caused Jack to flinch, snatching back the reassuring hand they'd been tentatively reaching her way.

Tiny heaved himself off the counter, turning to face them slowly, deliberately, letting them appreciate his size and giving them ample time to reconsider the hill they might be about to die on. Castiel's chin went up, eyes narrowed. At his side, Dean sniffed and thumbed his nose, aggressively nonchalant.

A devil-may-care smile on his face, Dean put one arm wide. "No can do, Jo. There's a quick way to handle huge, steaming piles of human garbage like our friend Tiny here," he said, making stabbing motions with his hand at the man in question, "and I'd hate to see you lose your job over a broken jaw."

Castiel glanced sharply up at Dean, trying to gauge the realistic chances of an all-out brawl going down right here between the novelty mugs and the last of the day's homemade baked goods. Lebanon, Kansas was quickly proving to be something other than the sleepy, middle of nowhere hamlet he had assumed it would be.

In fairness, though, he had been warned that the freaks came out at night.

Dean didn't exactly look ready for a fight, though, loose-limbed and calm, fixing Tiny with a cocky grin that was daring the biker to make the first move. Castiel forced his own shoulders down, his fist to relax around the handle of the briefcase he was gripping like a weapon. He cut his eyes over to Tiny, who was equally not rising to the bait, just sneering at them for what he was reading as biteless bark.

"Like to see you try, pretty boy," Tiny said, digging in his heels.

Castiel frowned, seeing that the situation had ground into a stalemate before it had even started, two immovable objects sizing each other up, both content with the fact that the one who either struck first or walked away first would make himself the de facto loser of the conflict, one way or another. Even so, Castiel strongly felt that neither of these two would be the type to walk away. He raised a hand, palm out, and tried to press some sense into the moment before one of them exhausted their patience and decided to throw a match onto this powderkeg.

"No one has to try anything," he warned, making sure Dean knew he was included in the list of people encouraged to stand down, "Let's all conduct ourselves as civilized people. Please, just leave the young woman alone, let her do her job in peace."

Tiny peered down at him and made it clear it wasn't about to back off just because a stranger in a rumpled trenchcoat asked him to play nice.

Dean, meanwhile, licked his bottom lip and looked like he might actually be considering his options. He nodded, ducking his head as though coming to an overdue realization.

"See, I know Tiny's mom," Dean said, raising his eyebrows at Castiel.

Castiel dropped his own right back at him, a suspicious squint pinching his face as he felt in his gut that the situation was about to spin off the axle in some unforeseen way, despite his best efforts to prevent that exact outcome.

Dean went on, unperturbed, sliding one hand into his pocket as he half turned away from Tiny, like he was just carrying on their friendly chat from before, like they didn't have a behemoth of an audience listening in. "And I know she would be appalled -- shocked, even -- if she found out what her son was up to when she ain't looking. Sweet old Martha, she's been in hospice for what, six weeks? Seven?"

He swiveled suddenly and jabbed his free hand at Tiny-- "Please, correct me if I'm wrong--" Back to Castiel, he tapped his own chest twice to demonstrate-- "The ol' ticker's just not what it used to be, or so I hear. Can't imagine what a bit of bad news might do to her delicate constitution."

As he said this last part, Dean's arm fell, and with it his cheery facade. He rolled his head Tiny's direction, offering him one of the coldest, meanest looks Castiel had ever seen on a person.

All seven feet of Tiny was now quivering with a quiet kind of rage, his boiled egg of a head going pink as he struggled to hold it in, to not lose the game of chicken he and Dean were playing. "You're not gonna tell my Ma nothing, you hear me?"

Dean exploded forward a half step, a finger viciously stabbing the air in the vicinity of Tiny's face. "You stop being a dick, and I'll have nothing to tell," he roared.

"Dean!" Jo shouted over the top of him, slamming her hands down on the counter.

Everyone in the coffee shop flinched. Castiel felt himself hang his head, feeling the sting as if he himself had been scolded. But he'd made himself a part of it, stepped in and got involved, hadn't been able to prevent escalation. He looked out of the corner of his eye at Jo, thinking that maybe he should apologize, but she was just glaring at Dean with hard eyes and a furious shake of her head.

"Out," she ordered.

Dean ignored the way she obviously meant him, and swung an open grin Tiny's way, canines and tongue showing. "You heard the little lady."

Jo grit her teeth. "Both of you, out. We don't need your kind of trouble here."

Something about what she'd said or how she said it got Dean's attention. He dropped his arms to his sides with a slap of canvas on canvas, twisting her way with a schoolboy pout pulling down his face. "C'mon, Jo. You know I didn't mean it. You know me. I would never--"

"Save it," she cut him off. "Jack's shift ends in twenty-five minutes. Go wait in the car."

There was a second where Dean gaped, fish out of water, at the order, but the cool, commanding look that came with it forcibly shut his mouth with an audible click and he reared back, bumping into Castiel slightly. "Alrighty, then," he huffed, stomping the wrong way through the line and on towards the door without looking back.

Castiel watched his boots retreat over the polished wood of the floor, heard the bang of the door being slammed open with more force than absolutely necessary, then tilted his head to catch Jo giving Tiny the same icy treatment.

"What are you waiting for, then, an invitation? Go on, get. And if you try something like that again, trust me, I won't bother with your Ma. I'll go get mine." She smiled, sweet and sharp, leaned forward over the counter, right into Tiny's personal space, to make sure her point wasn't missed. "And we can see how many bones she can break before the Sheriff hauls her off your dead body."

An ominous kind of tension straightened Castiel's shoulders, surprised at Jo's candid threat, doubtful that hers would work where Dean's had failed. After a moment, though, Tiny heaved his bulk away from the counter, gave Castiel a dirty look, and similarly made his inglorious retreat into the night.

Castiel wondered what was going to happen now between the two men, whether they were going to carry on in the street or just back off to lick their wounds until their next meeting. He hoped Dean had sense enough to actually get in the car, at least.

"Next!"

Distracted from the errant thought of the well-being of a near stranger, Castiel turned to see Jo smiling at him from behind the register, the picture of award-winning customer service, and nothing like the stone-cold demon who had seconds ago threatened to have her mother bludgeon a customer to death. He stepped up to place his order, thoroughly cowed.

"I apologize for the scene, for my part in it," he told her quietly as he leaned to one side to set the briefcase on the floor at his feet, reaching for his wallet. "You clearly didn't need us to butt in, but still, I hope you're alright."

She waved his apology away, shaking her head. "Nothing to be sorry for, it's fine. Small town like this, hard for some folk to avoid bumping into the folk they shouldn't be bumping into. It happens, you handle it, you move on. What can I get started for you tonight?"

Castiel offered her a small smile, feeling it press a little tight around his eyes, his misplaced guilt swirling harder at her need to project such a tough exterior. It was unfortunate and unfair that the world demanded the thickest skins from some people more than others, and his heart ached in a vague, nameless way, wishing there was something he could do to alleviate the need for someone so young to have constructed such a defensive worldview.

Off her expectant look, he willed himself to remember what he ought to be doing in the here and now. He gave the menu board on the back wall a cursory review, not really consuming its contents in any meaningful way, until he looked down and caught Jack's eye from where the eager barista floated at a respectful distance between Jo and the espresso machine.

Castiel smiled, this time with notable ease as he remembered Dean's earlier suggestion. "A small latte, please. It came highly recommended."

"You got it," Jo nodded, punching the order into the register and pulling a cup from the stack. "Your name?" She looked up at him, reaching into a mug with a missing handle to fish out a Sharpie.

"Uh, Castiel," he supplied, and spelled it for her benefit, just in case.

"Castiel," she repeated, as most did when confronted with his name for the first time, trying it out for themselves, "That's got kind of a Biblical ring to it, doesn't it? Don't tell me you're some kind of guardian angel?"

"Hardly," Castiel murmured, dropping his gaze to focus on pulling the correct currency out of his wallet.

Jo passed the cup with his name on it to Jack, who immediately took it to the espresso machine and got to work, that same serious look of concentration commandeering their entire face for the duration.

"Anything else for you today?" she asked.

It was one of those scripted niceties that Castiel truly appreciated about by-the-book social interactions. A perfect sequitur that spared him the effort of trying to come up with one on his own. "Do you have a password for the Wi-Fi?"

She nodded, slipping a business card sized piece of paper from a loose stack next to the register, and handed it over in trade for the cash he gave her in return. As she punched open the till and dug around for his change, he glanced down at the code. It read "N@turomDem0nto," which, as far as Wi-Fi passwords went, was certainly one.

The till banged shut with a ring, Jo handing him back his change. Seeing his bemused look as he inspected the hotspot info, she explained, "Sorry, I know it's a little out there. Our IT guy, Ash, he's a bit of a supernatural freak."

"I see," Castiel said agreeably, though he felt fairly certain that there was some additional piece of trivia he was missing to be able to recognize the significance of the unintelligible string of letters and numbers. He put the paper into his pocket, dumped the loose change from his palm into the tip jar, and retrieved his briefcase. "Thank you."

Jo's eyebrows came down, not unkindly, as her lips pursed in baffled amusement. "No problem," she laughed, shaking her head at him. "Jack'll have your drink out in a minute." She waved him in the direction of the pickup counter, and Castiel went gratefully on his way, looking forward to the upcoming stretch of time where he didn't have to make small talk, or try to avoid physical altercations, or accidentally say "thank you" after tipping.

The remaining patrons of the Roadhouse appeared to have cleared out since he had last looked, but whether this was due to the late hour or the recent potential for violence, he couldn't be sure. Castiel thought about Dean waiting for Jack out in that beast of a car; thought about Tiny (or men like him) lurking out on the streets.

He pulled out his phone, noting the time as he thumbed to the Wi-Fi settings. Again, the hotspot listing was sparse, just the one named after the Roadhouse -- finally, full bars -- and, to his muted surprise, "Big D's iPhone."

He was still looking curiously at the cafe's curtained windows, in the direction where he knew that sleek black muscle car with the animal growl was parked under a street lamp, when a bright voice chimed behind him: "Here you go!"

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Castiel turned to face Jack, finding a bloom of warmth filling the hollow of his chest to see them sliding his latte over with an exceedingly proud look on their face, certain of a job well done. Right on the drink's tail, Castiel was surprised to see a small plate with a piece of apple pie being pushed his way as well.

He held up his hand to stop or question the freebie, thinking he hadn't done anything today to have earned getting rewarded with pie, but Jo popped up at Jack's side and gave him one of those looks he already recognized as meaning he wouldn't be allowed to decline. His bottom lip pursed, he reached out and obediently pulled the plate the rest of the way over with one finger.

"At closing time, we either have trash all the leftover perishables or give 'em away," Jo explained. She nodded down at the plate with something of a wicked grin, "Normally I'd be packing this up for Jack to take home for Dean, but here's hoping I can teach him something by revoking his pie privileges for one night."

Castiel's eyes went wide, and his hand flew off the rim of the plate as though it had burned him. Before he could figure out a way to articulate how uncomfortable it made him to know he was stealing someone's pie, Jack laughed and shook their head.

"No, it's okay, really. Sam's always saying Dean needs to watch what he eats. So, you're helping!" They chirped this last bit with a scrunch of the eyes and a jerky shrug of their shoulders. Jo backed the assertion, a tilt of her head and a jag of her brow to say Castiel really didn't have the room to argue with either of them on this.

"Ah," Castiel said, eyeing the pie like it was a plate full of gold, feeling completely unworthy, "If that's the case. . ."

He looked up, met Jo's and then Jack's eyes, and told them solemnly, "I appreciate it."

Jack's endearing smile crinkled onto their face again, and Jo patted them on the arm.

"Hey, we're all set here," she said to Jack, "Why don't you clock out a little early, okay? I won't tell my mom."

Castiel kept his small smile to himself, busied himself shifting his briefcase to his other hand as Jack eagerly tripped off to head out for the night. Still, he lingered a little at the pickup counter, not missing the guarded way Jo eyed the front door, which gave nothing away as to what kind of trouble might still be skulking in the night on the other side.

She caught him noticing, which was fine, because his thoughts were running along similar tracks. It gave him the cue to share his own. "Um," he started, glancing away, "Would it be a problem if I stayed until closing? There's, uh, no Wi-Fi at the motel."

When he looked back over at her, shy, she was giving him a soft eye roll with her mouth screwed up to one side to hide some kind of smile. She chewed on the inside of her cheek a moment, then looked heavenward with a good-natured sigh.

"You know, for a guy who swears he's not a guardian angel--"

Behind her, Jack, who had traded their apron for a colorful windbreaker, swung through the half-door at the far end of the counter, on the other side of the espresso machine, and called out a chipper, "Good night, Jo! Good night, sir, hope you enjoy your drink!"

Oh. Castiel hastily lifted the paper cup, Jo waving her own goodbye as Jack trotted across the shop floor towards the exit. He took a sip of the latte, cringing a little to discover that it was still far too hot to drink without caution; even so, he smiled at Jack and gestured with the cup. "It's very good, thank you."

He was treated to another of those full-face, joyous smiles, and then Jack was out the door and Castiel was left alone with Jo, his scalding latte, and his unearned pie. He thumbed the lip of the plastic to-go lid, only half-certain she had approved of him sticking around now that she was on her own behind the counter. For all she knew, he could be just as rotten as any of them, just biding his time until--

"Please help yourself to our Wi-Fi for as long as you'd like," Jo told him, fixing him with a kind, if ever-so-slightly bemused, look.

He nodded his thanks, and, using the bottom of his drink, shifted the pie plate over to the edge of the counter where he caught it in the fingers of the hand already tucked under the handle of the briefcase, maxing out his awkwardness in doing so. Jo was biting her lip, watching the juggling act unfold before her, but she didn't otherwise comment. With a short smile of parting, Castiel fled -- cautiously -- to a small table at one of the shaded windows, far from Jo and close to the door.

As he went, the sound of a car engine, startling in both how loud and how familiar it seemed to him, rumbled up through the coffee shop's backdrop of picked guitars and singing fiddles. By the time Castiel took a seat, it had already roared off into the distance. He was glad its driver seemed not to have run into any further trouble, after all.

Drink settled, pie settled, Castiel himself settled, he set the briefcase on the floor beside him and clicked it open just enough to drag the laptop out from the pocket. He slid it onto the table between his other items, determined to connect to the Wi-Fi and check his email, to do the one thing he had ventured out to do, even if only to say he had.

As suspected, he now saw no trace of "Big D's iPhone" nearby, and carefully punched in the access code to the Roadhouse's network. The computer connected without fanfare. Dutifully, he clicked on his email app and watched the logo splash pop up over the muted periwinkle of his desktop wallpaper.

While the program loaded up, he reached out and pulled the pie over and dug a chunk out of it with the fork that had been so kindly provided. The first bite reminded him that he hadn't eaten since Kansas City, and his focus narrowed to the singular task of slicing and chewing until there was nothing left but crumbs stuck to the cinnamon-sugary tracks his fork made as it scraped over the plate's inexplicable cowboy boot pattern.

Returning the plate and fork to the table with a sigh, Castiel took up his latte, now sufficiently cooled, and sipped this while flicking his fingers over the laptop's trackpad, disinterestedly scrolling through his inbox. The loss of a few of his taste buds notwithstanding, he found he was able to appreciate the quality of Jack's handiwork, and he felt retroactively absolved for the preemptive high marks he'd given.

He stopped scrolling. Not that he'd been paying attention to the task anyway, but thinking about the young person's ineffable good cheer and the mercurial temper of their guardian had him staring at the curtain as if he could see straight through it, into the street and the night, imagining the shine of the street lamp off the hood of that dangerous-looking car.

He drank the rest of his latte while absorbed in the expanse of his mind's eye, the limitless vistas of the day's bus ride peppered with half-remembered moments of the evening so far, impressions of the short stretch of Main Street Lebanon he'd traversed, the faces of strangers blending one into the next into the next. There was one face in particular that he kept circling back to, though, and one moment that was sharper than the rest.

Standing under that street lamp, waiting. Waiting for--

"Sorry to interrupt," Jo said, tentative, seeming to materialize at Castiel's table.

He whipped his head away from the window -- had he really just been staring blankly at the curtain this whole time? What must she think -- and pushed back his chair to try to get with the program. "Sorry -- you've probably been waiting--"

She laughed and held up her hands, and he slowed his frantic sweeping of his belongings from the table. "Whoa, there. I was just gonna give you a five-minute heads up, is all. Didn't mean to spook you."

Castiel perched the briefcase he had snagged from the floor onto his vacated chair, and gently slid the laptop back inside. "I'm fine," he said, snapping the clasp closed, "please don't let me hold you up."

"No worries," she told him, and when he darted his eyes over to her, she was giving him that slightly amused, slightly puzzled look she'd been giving him since he walked in. She cleared his plate and cup from the table and made off with them. He picked up his briefcase and pushed in the chair, standing purposelessly there at its side.

She looked back over her shoulder at him, seeing him not leaving. "Five minutes," she said again, "and then I'm going to let you walk me to my car, okay? You seem sweet, and I just can't help feeling like you'll have an aneurysm or something if I walk out there alone."

"Sorry," Castiel repeated. He frowned, suddenly very invested in the stitching on his briefcase handle. "I've overstepped again."

Jo pushed open the swinging half-door of the counter and regarded him from across the coffee shop floor. "I'll let it slide, this once. Just don't make a habit of it," she told him with mock-gravitas, fighting back a telling smile before disappearing into the back.

It was a joke, he could tell, something to dispel the awkward energy Castiel had fomented up around himself. It worked, just a little, and he took a deep breath and let it out in a quiet sigh at himself. Anyway, he could promise her that, and easily. He didn't know exactly how long he'd end up spending in Lebanon, Kansas, but it wasn't like he was planning on sticking around forever.

He shuffled his feet, waiting on Jo's return, and willed himself to imagine opening that sealed box. Digging out the keys to the wide, boxy, gold-colored Lincoln Continental. Climbing into the driver's seat and watching this speck of a town vanish in the rearview mirror.

He wondered what tape would be playing in the deck, or maybe what radio station it was still set to. What the scent of the air freshener hung over the mirror was, and whether the built-in ashtrays needed to be emptied. What he might find forgotten under the seats.

All at once, a full-body shudder rolled over him, overwhelmed by all these questions with answers he couldn't yet face.

"Ready?"

He looked up as Jo crossed to the door and flicked the bank of switches to shut off the overhead lights, leaving them both shadows lit faintly by the glow of the displays on the equipment behind the counter.

Ready? Not in the slightest.

"After you," he murmured, reaching out to push the door open.

---

Castiel showered with military efficiency, the rushing water just about drowning out his empty thoughts.

He changed into his sleepwear mechanically, put himself into the bed, and flicked on the television because there was nothing else left to do. The day was finally catching up to him, and his body ached as it reluctantly gave itself over to the support of the mattress. His bones felt heavy, his eyes raw. He flipped channels without comprehending anything he saw on the tiny screen.

Maybe it was the jangle of espresso in his veins, or maybe it was his internal clock's confusion regarding what time zone he'd ended up in, or maybe it was his white-knuckled refusal to find out what his subconscious had in store for him, but it was several long, dull, droning hours of late-night soaps and infomercials before Castiel finally let go and allowed himself to sleep.

#words

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

Text

Why did you last feel like crying? This past weekend I was just extra moody and on the verge of tears.

How long ago and why did you last feel infuriated? I get easily irritated and frustrated, but it’s been awhile since I’ve felt infuriated.

Do emotions control you or do you control your emotions? My emotions got control over me a few years ago and I haven’t been able to gain it back. :/

Do you keep your friends secrets/private information to yourself? Yes.

What negative quality do your friends bring up the most? I wouldn’t want friends who did that. I do that enough myself as it is, I don’t need anyone else pointing out all my negative qualities all the time.

What quality do you think you have that others don’t think you do? I don’t know. I feel like people in my life overestimate my abilities rather than the other way around. I feel a lot of pressure to maintain that illusion. <<< Same in regards to feeling like people overestimate my abilities. Although, in terms of the long list of negative qualities I believe I have, my loved ones would disagree on a lot of them.

Do you often “jump” to conclusions? Yeppp. Always the worst ones, too.

Do you find being alone with strangers scary, interesting or indifferent? It could be scary depending on the situation, but I’d definitely feel anxious and uncomfortable.

Do you think you know a lot about the world? There’s a lot more I don’t know.

Do you know first aid? No.

Does the sight of blood make you feel sick? Y Yes. It makes me feel weak. I can’t even look when having blood drawn and getting it done makes me sweaty and weak.

Does your first name have an L in it? Nope.

Middle name have a C in it? Nope.

Last name have a R in it? Yes.

Do your initials spell a legitimate word? If so, what? Nope. The word above, does it have any connection to you at all?

Do you prefer classic rock or nope alternative? Nope alternative?

Do you like Kings of Leon? Yeah. I loved when Sex on Fire first came out.

How about The Script? Yes.

Does crying make you feel better? Sometimes.

Do you know a girl called Becca? Nope.

How about a guy called Gregory? No.

Does someones background effect whether you’ll be friends with them or not Uh, well yeah. Like if they have a sketchy background or have done things I’m not comfortable with.

How about their religious background? I’d have a problem with a satanist or if they were involved in a cult.

If someone admitted cheating in a past relationship of theirs, would you trust them? That would likely make things complicated, but I guess it would depend on the situation. Although, you’re likely just getting their side of it and it may not be accurate or they’re leaving things out that paint them in a better light than their ex. It would just really, really depend on the situation and it’d take a lot of communication.

Do you drink tea and/or coffee every day? Coffee, yes.

Did you ever want to be a cook as a kid? No.

How about a fashion designer? No.

Do you wish that magic was real? I mean sure it’d be dope to make something you want appear or happen whenever you want. It could also be tricky, though, and used for the wrong reasons.

What food would you love to wipe off the face of the earth? I’m picky, so there’s a lot of foods I don’t like, but plenty of other people enjoy them so I’m not going to wipe it off the earth just cause I don’t like it.

Can you use a bottle opener? Yeah...

Do you own a cheese grater? Nope.

What time will it be in 38 minutes time? 4:26AM.

What day/date will it be in 11 days time? May 25th. Damn.

Have you ever owned a pet fish? Y Yep. I had a fish tank full of fish as a kid.

Do you prefer fire or ice? Fire in terms of bonfires and in a fireplace for the comfy, coziness of it and I love the smell of it during the fall. I don’t use ice in my drinks, so, not a big fan.

Do you rap along with rap songs? Ha, well my attempt to rap along.

When happy, do you become more talkative? Yeah.

Bowling or sailing? Why? Bowling I guess if I had to pick out of the two. Have no interest in either one, though.

What colour is your kettle? I don’t have one.

How about your microwave? Black.

Do you prefer sitting in the front or back of a car? Front.

How about in a train? On the bus? I’ve always had to sit in the middle on buses cause that’s where the wheelchair spots are.

Do you care about politics? I admit that I really haven’t been following closely these past few years. I used to pay more attention, but I just... can’t. It’s too much.

Obama or Bush?

Blair or Brown?

When did you last cook something from scratch? I don’t cook from scratch. The only cooking I do is packaged ramen.

What things make you jealous? Im rarely jealous. <<< Same. I feel envy more than jealousy.

Do you think the censors/fcc go a bit too far or are just right? I am confused as to why it’s okay certain curse words but not others. And I really don’t get why in “asshole” just the “hole” part is bleeped out lol. Do you feel hungry, thirsty, sleepy or none of the above? Right now I’m just sleepy.

What’s your Mum’s Mum called? How about your Dad’s Dad? Lupe/Charles.

Do you prefer crepes, pancakes or waffles? Waffles and crepes.

Do you have ice-cream in your fridge right now? I think we have some.

How about chicken nuggets? Not chicken nuggets, but my brother has a bag of chicken wings.

Do you eat fish often? Never. I hate seafood. <<<< Saaaame.

Have you ever taken a martial art? Which one{s}? Nope.

Do you know anyone who is scared of you? I can’t imagine anyone being afraid of me, a stick thin, super shy, and awkward af girl. haha.

What person who has died would you bring back and why? I wouldn’t mess around with bring people back from the dead. I believe I’ll see them again one day.

Do you like watermelon? Yeah. I couldn’t tell you the last time I had any, though.

Can you remember the month of your first kiss? October. I remember that because it happened at my high school drama department’s haunted house.

Do you make friends easily? No. I also don’t try to to be honest.

What makes you different from everyone else? DNA <<< Hahaha welp that most certainly does.

I give you a piece of paper. What do you draw/write on it? I’d do random doodles and write random words in cursive cause that’s what I do when I doodle.

What pictures or photos are up in your lounge? Is that like the living room? If so, we have a few framed photos on the shelves we have.

Do you like purple and white patterned things? Sure.

Do you know anyone called Pipa? No.

I say purple, you think… It’s my mom’s favorite color.

What do you think is the most interesting thing about you? Nothing.

Do you like being complimented or does it make you uncomfortable? They’re nice, I’m just super awkward.

Does the description of your starsign correspond with your personality? Nope. I’m so opposite of how a Leo is described.

Do you have a photo album? Yeah, several old photo albums (physical ones) and several on Facebook and my phone.

What artists paintings do you find the most beautiful? I don’t necessarily go for beauty in art. My favourite painters are Dali, Kandinsky, and Klimt. Weird over beauty for me. <<< That’s how I am. One of my favorites is The Scream by Edvard Munch. I like the melting clocks one by Dali, too.

What about the most disturbing? Hmm. There’s definitely paintings I’ve seen that I thought were disturbing, but of course I can’t think of a specific one at the moment.

Have you ever gone to a camp or summer school? I’ve been to two camps: science camp and Girl Scout camp. I also had to do summer school once in the 6th grade cause I missed a lot of school due to spending months in the hospital and at home after having surgery. I voluntarily took a few summer classes in college.

What was your favourite cartoon as a child? A lot of the stuff that was on Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, PBS, WB Kids, and Saturday morning cartoons on ABC.

What was your biggest fear as a child? Bugs.

Would you rather be able to fly or breathe underwater? Fly.

What about invisibility or mindreading? Invisibility.

Do you like what you see in the mirror? Nopeee.

Can you remember all your past teachers names? Not all of them, but a lot of them.

Do you like talent shows? Which ones? I enjoyed when we had talent show assemblies in elementary school. Those were fun.

Have you ever failed an important exam? In what? Yes, in math.

Do you find people taller than you intimidating? Just about everyone is taller than me.

Do you think you are better than people of a different country/background? Wow, absolutely not. I don’t think I’m better than anyone.

What’s your favourite thing about your country? We have our issues and I know other countries make fun of us, but we have a lot of good qualities and I like where I’m from.

Who is your favourite bzoinker? I don’t go on there.

What websites do you have bookmarked? The ones on the toolbar are Google, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, YouTube, Pinterest, and a couple PDFs from Bible studies.

Do you use bows and ribbons to decorate your gifts? Yeah. I love wrapping presents and making them look all nice and pretty.

Do you listen to the same type of music as your parents? What type is that? We like a lot of the same, yeah. Especially my mom and I.

What TV show scared you as a kid? Are You Afraid of the Dark haha but I also loved to watch it. That intro is what really got me. Oh, and Unsolved Mysteries. That was a show about real life mysteries and murders and such.

Family Guy, The Simpsons or South Park? Why? Out of the three I’d pick Family Guy, but I’m not into any of them. My family loves Family Guy so I see parts of episodes here and there all the time and I’m familiar with it. Sometimes it’ll give me a little chuckle.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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oh-my-may · 6 years

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NCT U reaction to their s/o being an introvert

Requested by anon:

Could I request NCT U reacting to their s/o being an introvert?

A/N: Guys I’m BACK. Sorry for letting y’all think I died but I kinda did since school started in August (it’s been stressful af since then ugh) and I practically didn’t post at all since then. However now I have two free weeks because of holidays and I have a lot of time to write your requests! I also have some plans/ideas for upcoming fics so stay tuned!

Taeil:

Taeil is not that big of an outgoing person either. So it was quite often that the two of you just stayed in the dorms or at your home while the others were out. You would just enjoy each others presence while cuddling on the couch and watching a movie rather than being out all night. After all it’s fun too, right? he just finds it another cute atriibute of yours. When Taeil found out that you didn’t enjoy going out, he looked at you with a sweet expression, smiling his well-known bright smile. He was planning to go out with his members, but when he saw you hesitantly looking at him through the mirror while he was getting ready, taking the blanket and burying yourself in it, denying every request of him and his members of you joining them, he ditched all plans and joined you, marking the beginning of a lot of evenings like this one.

“You are just too sweet to be real, Y/N.”

Taeyong:

Taeyong is a normally a very busy man and his schedule doesn’t allow him to slow down. Therefore you being an introvert and rather staying home was a very welcoming trait of you for him. He enjoyed the days were he would come from practice and find you sitting in bed, playing a video game or watching a movie or tv show. He would often just lay with you or cuddle you, snuggling close to you or hidng his face in your neck while rambling about how stressful the day was or how practice was going. You would pet his head, softly tracing your fingers through his hair while he drifted off to sleep. He didn’t mind not taking part in his members plans of going somewehre. Since he was already a stressed person, he loved staying home with you.

“Thank you for being my safe space, darling.”

Kun:

Kun seems like such a chill person to be honest, I don’ think that he would have any problems with you being a introvert. He likes staying in the dorms too, cooking and baking with or for you, having fun while doing so. If you’d have problems communicating with the staff or his members when you didn’t know them well, he would notice immediately and instantly be by your side, helping you out as good as he can. He’d find it adorable how you tried to open yourself up to his members or simply talked to them but then became shy. He’d smile softly and kiss your cheeks every now and then, just because he loved you so much.

Doyoung:

I think in the beginning Doyoung woukd have some problems with it. It would take him some time to understand why someone would not want to go out and see the world or generally be insecure with talking to others. he woukd never force you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with and after a while he could arrange himself with it, staying home with you whenever you wanted so or needed him. Actually he got used to it a lot, finding himself enyoing to stay home and not do anything particular but just spending time with his loved one. He’d always be by your side when you’re talking to others, just in case you needed his support, taking and squeezing your hand to let you know he’s there.

“Don’t worry honey, I’m here for you.”

Ten:

The most supportive bean. Totally overprotective and would never ever leave your side when you’reout ‘cause he knows exactly how uncomfortable it made you feel. He would always have his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulder or wouldn’t let go of your hand - just in case. Honestly the sweetest boy that would always ask you if you’re okay with him going out with his members today and would stay home with you in the end often if you told him that you’re okay. You would end up being snuggled under the blanket together, giggling and laughing at each other, loving the time you could spend with each other.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

Jaehyun:

A cute bub. He would love to lay down with you and spend time alone at home with you, but I feel like he also needs to go out from time to time and he would always ask you if you wouldn’t like to come with him. If you did agree (not just to make him happy but also to try out new things), he would make sure to be axtra sweet and extra careful. Of course he would appreciate you wanting to go out, but as soons as he could sense that you were feeling uncomfortable, he would withdraw and ask if you were okay and if you wanted to go home. he would take special care of you, always fearing that you could become anxious. At the end of the day he would kiss you unbearably softly, a proud smile on his lips.

“You were so brave today baby, I hope you feel okay.”

Winwin:

The sweetest boy. Would 10/10 melt when you whine that he shouldn’t leave and instead stay home with you and cuddle. Would always give you the cutest and proudest smile when he saw you overcoming your fear of talking to someone. He would always be in the background, having your back whenever you needed it. Also wouldn’t mind staying home with you. He’s the type to lazily lie around anyways, so you two would totally fit and complement each other perfectly. He would just block off the teasing words of the others when you two were staying home once again instead of going out with them.

“No thanks, we’re good just laying around here.”

Jungwoo:

I have the feeling that he would totally fool around with you. Like he would text you that he would go out but then surprisingly stand in front of your door with your favorite snacks, a soft blanket and some movies for you to watch. He would even try to convince you to stay home with him when you wanted to go out with your friends for once. He always wants you around him because he loves you so much and literally cling onto you when you were talking to his members. It was his way of showing you that he was always on your side and was there to support you whenever you needed him.

“Baby I love you so much. Stay home with me, yeah?”

Lucas:

Lucas is the total opposite of an introvert. He’s outgoing and doesn’t have a lot of problems making new friends or talking to others. However, I think, that you as an introvert would be good for him. It would complete him in a way and help him understand others as well as controlling his temper. Through you, he learned that it was sometimes good to stay quiet or it felt good to spend time at home with the one you love. Since you complement each other so well, you could learn a lot from one another and whatever you two did together, it was always time spent well.

“Thank you for everything, sweetie.”

Mark:

Mark is similiar to Taeyong. He is so busy and barely gets freetime. He needs a lot of time to rest and going out with others wasn’t his favorite way of spending his few free days when he saw them everyday, anyways. So he loved how he could just go to you and spend the day home all day long without feeling bad because he knew this is how you felt the most comfortable. He’s also such a cuddly baby so you often would just lie around, arms wrapped around each other, sharing sweet kisses. He also would always support you in any way he can in social situations, even though he is quite an awkward person himself.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N, I’m so proud.”

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manabingu · 6 years

Note

Haruka Nanami = soft girl

This has been sitting in my inbox since yesterday MY BAD! I wanted to answer this earlier but got distracted by deadlines of some stuff ANYWAY. Thanks for sending me an ask about Nanami CUZ I BEEN WANTIN TO TALK ABOUT MY HOME GIRL FOR AWHILE BUT NEVER GET THE CHANCE TO! So thanks~*~*~*

THIS GIRL RIGHT HERE. NANAMI HARUKA ^^^^ I WOULD DIE FOR HER.

Honestly, I’m that one person in every fandom that tends to fall in love with characters who I feel get undeserved hate or are either a minor character who gets glossed over. And be like….YALL??? Why you so mean to such adorable, innocent,sweet, hardworking, wouldn’t hurt a fly characters and then say that characters who are LITERAL murderers and criminals are the “precious cinnamon rolls who can do no wrong” only cuz you attracted to them??? yall thas sad. Listen…I’m honestly tired of people who bash on the anime and only play the games cuz they think it’s boring. Yes, you can have your opinion & I respect that, but I’ve seen some people whom have a pretty steadily growing following just bash on Nanami or some of their “not best boys” for reasons that make no sense to me & I been bottling this for awhile but Imma just SPEAK today cuz I’m on fire. ANYWAY BACK TO MY QUEEN.

LET ME HAVE MY NANAMI HARUKA TED TALK. Debunking complaints

Complaint I’ve heard: She’s boring

IN MY PERSONAL OPINION. NANAMI HARUKA IS ONE OF THE BEST LEADS IN ANY IDOL/ REVERSE HAREM ANIME I HAVE SEEN TO DATE.

She’s FAR from boring. She kind of reminds me of one of my other favorite lead heroines of all time. Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket. Both are humble & haven’t really had much in their life. Let’s talk about her story, she is a girl who was born with with bad health so much so that her parents sent her to grow up and live with her grandma in the countryside where the air was cleaner & less polluted than the city where they live. While she stayed with grandma, she learned to play piano by ear & she really didn’t grow up with much technology. She states in episode one that she didn’t even have a TV so anytime anyone in her class makes a reference to a famous celebrity she doesn’t know who they are. If I had to guess she only probably had books, toys, & a record player at grandma’s house AND I think she was home-schooled? Which means that that her only other friend besides her grandma & possibly the local neighborhood kids was grandma’s piano.

I think she’s highly relateable too. I sure have had similar experience (trust me, my immune system is TerRibLe XD so I feel home girl) But I knew the moment I saw that part in episode 1 where she describes how music LITERALLY saved her life, THAT is when I knew I would protect this girl for the rest of my life cuz I just yelled at my screen SAME GURL! SAAAAAAME TTuTT/ In Nanami’s case, she went by herself to the city to visit her parents, she thought since she no longer was a kid, her health wouldn’t be too endangered but she she got there she got REALLY lost & the noise pollution was so overwhelming that her anxiety gave her a panic attack. AND THIS IS WHY I REALLY LIKE UTAPRI. BECAUSE THEY GET HELLA REAL HELLA FAST. THIS KIND OF THING IS NOT SOME KINDA MADE UP THING. LET ME SIT YALL DOWN AND TELL YOU A STORY.

Listen- I remember when I was like 16ish I went to New York with a cousin & as a person who comes from a small town- being in the city BY YOURSELF for the first time, it’s SO SCARY to someone who has anxiety. I was dropped off in Manhattan while she ran a work errand she gave me money for food & encouraged me to explore. As soon as they left, I looked around thinking OH GOD WHAT NOW?? I saw a cathedral close by and I RAN for it. I was so scared being alone I went to a small corner of the cathedral and started crying & tweeting, which got some comforting responses from native NY people that followed me & I texted the friend that was closest to me (if you count Virginia close lol) But he called me & just talked to me & helped me feel better. He encouraged me to not stay in one place & to go find a place I like & perhaps if I was too anxious, to go stay there till I was picked up. IT TOOK ME 30 MINUTES to get courage enough to walk to the Barnes & Noble/Starbucks that was close & I stayed there texting him the rest of the time. So ANYTIME people talk crap about Nanami’s panic attack in the city I’m gonna politely tell them to get out of my face cuz that’s a VERY real emotion. The thing that saved Nanami was hearing a singer in a giant screen singing a soothing song. THE MUSIC HELPED CALM DOWN HER ANXIETY. EXCUSE ME. YALL CAN’T SAY THAT YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SOOTHED BY A SONG IN YOUR LIFE. WE ALL BEEN THERE. WHEN WE WERE SO DOWN THAT LISTENING TO A SONG MADE US FEEL BETTER. I know that happened with me. Just like Nanami, I had a time in my life where I was just ready for death, I had lost hope to live but hearing ONE. SONG by my favorite singer, literally stopped me. So I can relate how she felt about HAYATO in the city. And how afterwards she was so inspired by it that she wanted to try to have a career dealing with music. HER REASON FOR WANTING TO BECOME A COMPOSER IS BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT IT’S LIKE TO FEEL SAD AND SCARED. SO SHE WANTS TO MAKE MUSIC THAT CAN TOUCH PEOPLE’S HEARTS & IF THEY’RE HAVING A BAD DAY, SHE CAN CHEER THEM UP WITH A SONG. IF THAT ISN’T THE GREATEST REASONING TO GO FIGHT FOR A DREAM, I DUNNO WHAT IS.

AND SHE KNOWS THAT THE ODDS ARE AGAINST HER. BUT SHE DOESN’T THROW IN THE TOWEL EASILY. I FREAKING LOVE HER FOR THAT. NANAMI. HARUKA. IS. NOT. WEAK.

Once she was of age, she applied for THE most prestigious music academy in her area. She was nearly late to the entrance exam cuz she helped a lost child find their mom while she was running in a snowstorm to the school. And because she was noticed to have that high moral compass by the principal, she was allowed to take the exam and made it in. And even when she DID get in, she was bullied by all the rich kids for not being able to read sheet music & not being taught by a private piano teacher when she was asked to play in front of everyone. She KNEW that she can play piano but she was self taught & played by ear. ((THIS STRUCK ME HARD TOO. Because I am self taught too- as a singer, I thought that if I didn’t have access to all these things & I didn’t know how to sight read I’d never be taken seriously or that I was less worthy to be called a musician than my peers)) But did she give up??? NO. HOME GIRL RAN TO THE LIBRARY and she studied her ass off to not let her first assignment project partner down. I COULD GO ON FOR HOURS ABOUT THE FIRST SEASON ALONE. SHE WAS THROWN SO MANY CURVE BALLS TO CRUSH HER SPIRIT AND DESPITE HER ANXIETY KEPT FIGHTING FOR HER DREAM.

But you know what? She also showed me THAT IT’S OK TO FALL DOWN TO ROCK BOTTOM. It’s OK to feel like giving up especially when your confidence has been crushed to a pulp by everyone. YALL, I FREAKING BAWLED MY EYES OUT WHEN SHE FOUND OUT THAT STARISH - THE BAND SHE SINGLE-HANDEDLY (and with some magical fate strings pulled by Cecil)) CREATED WAS GONNA DEBUT WITHOUT HER. She was asked by the principal if she thought HER music could compete with pros already established and household names already in the business. She didn’t want her friends to give up their dreams of debuting so she agreed to step down as STARISH’s composer AGAINST their demands for her to not give up. She went home and cried to her grandmother that she felt SO outclassed. And you know what? I’m GLAD Utapri shared this kind of story because I’m sure it has happened to a lot of people.

Nanami is a really kind, compassionate, selfless human being. She does anything and everything so that all her family & friends can be happy at the expense of her own happiness. She takes it to the extreme that she is PUSHED and forced to FOR ONCE think selfishly and do something for herself. Her purity & kindness won the respect of her classmates & teachers so much so that they always want to support her dream of becoming a songwriter. When STARISH came to her house cuz they heard she ran away- she openly admitted IN TEARS that SHE wanted to be STARISH’s composer, she didn’t want anyone else to write for them because she had fun with her friends and she didn’t want that to stop. ((The principal overheard her and said FINALLY! SOMETIMES ITS OK TO BE SELFISH WHEN IT COMES TO YOUR DREAM! Its ok to be kind but also think of your own feelings sometimes too. I think young, budding artists need to hear this. )) SHE GIVES ME HOPE CUZ I BE THE SAME WAY SOMETIMES WITH MY STUFF SO YEAH ;~~~~~;/

SOMETIMES When I watch a show that has harem elements to it, I really judge the protag that everyone is falling for and I think about if the harem people’s feelings are justified enough for them to actually fall in love with the protag. And you know what? In Nanami’s case?? ITS A BIG OL HELL YEAH IT’S JUSTIFIED.

FrICK- I fell in love with Nanami too??? How could I not??? I AM A BIGASS SAP FOR INNOCENT, SHY, CHARACTERS WHO TRY THEIR BEST EVEN THOUGH THEY SCARED AF CUZ OF CONFIDENCE ISSUES.

She’s a wonderful, compassionate, gifted person who just needs love and support and you know she’ll be there for you too and it’s mutual. She works SUPER hard at her job, she’s endearing, she makes you wanna just protect her cuz if she is sad lord I will probably go on a rampage. This girl doesn’t deserve to go through more than she already has. I love and respect Nanami. A female protagonist doesn’t need to be bitchy, slutty, or badass to be considered “interesting”.

HECK, one time I heard someone say “This show would be 10x if Nanami was a guy. UMMMM???? WTF??? Ok, listen, I’m in the lgbt spectrum, & I’m sick of people saying that Utapri would be better if Nanami was a boy. Why is it so bad that she’s a girl?? Like- I would like ONE reasonable explanation that doesn’t involve fetishizing your personal fantasies. When people fetishize an lgbt relationship- you’re causing that type of relationship to not be taken seriously irl. If we wanna make this the norm, we gotta treat it like it’s a natural occurrence. Not force something for the sake of fanservice. There are barely any well written female protags like Nanami out there in the world and if we change her, we are taking out one of the best from the list. I want more shows to write good, memorable female protags like Nanami. I wouldn’t be against her being a boy. But only if the reason was for good reasons and to explore character development dynamics. Cuz I enjoy content that has actual substance. SERIOUSLY- If Utapri was ONLY fanservice, I would despise it. BUT IT’S NOT. It tackles real issues & speaks about people in the industry and they don’t sugarcoat ANYTHING. They show you the harsh realities but they also give you hope to keep doing what you love even if you gotta work extra harder than your peers who might be more experienced than you.

And THAT is what I learned from Nanami Haruka. And I will defend my songwriting princess till I die. Thank you.

#Nanami Haruka #Uta no Prince sama #Utapri #I WILL DEFEND MY PRINCESS WITH MY LIFE #ALSO TOMO CUZ TOMO IS ALSO A QUEEN AND SHE IS SUCH A BOP #Mana Answerz #ivmysterynumbers #Utapri Fandom

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firstdegreefangirl · 6 years

Video

youtube

It took me way too long to actually get all of this finished, but I used my road trip with @flyawayrachel for a video assignment for my TV class. Here’s that video, which I LOVE ((and that hardly EVER happens when I make things)), and the world’s longest highlights post -- including all three days of the trip, and also show notes -- is under the cut

Monday

Me walking from Rachel’s apartment to her campus because I needed a bathroom. Then the first building I found ((which did have a bathroom, thank GOD, because //someone// forgot to go while I was stopped in LFK)) being the one she’s traumatized about and can’t go into, forcing me to wait for her in a building where she weren’t, just because I needed to pee.

“I placed ‘toilet’ very high on my priority list”

We hadn’t seen each other since like July, so there was SO MUCH to catch up on

Side note: no more of this three-months-separated thing. We missed too many stories and it’s not OK.

Me texting Madison like “this is crazy but come to Denver with us right now today”

When my dad found out we went to KFC for lunch, the first thing he said was “I’ve eaten at that KFC with your mom before!”

That gas station I made Rach stop at so I could take another bathroom break. Y’know, the one with two stalls in one room and NO DOOR, just a little half-wall between them? Yeah, that one.

“Do we like Frank? Cool, I’m on Team Frank then.” In the words of one of my kids, “VILE FRIENDSHIP!”

“There we go, that’s an appropriate Hitler joke.”

“Do … something cute with the maps.” “Out here? Where people can see?”

Me: “This is gonna sound crazy, but let me text my dad. I think we stopped at this rest stop when we went to the Grand Canyon. I remember the museum.” ((closure time: I was right, we did. That trip was four years ago.))

Checking into the hotel on my corporate rate and then dissecting the agent’s check-in skills in the elevator.

Wandering into the hotel next door because it’s the chain I work at and I wanted to scope out the competition.

Then the look on Rachel’s face when I straight up told their agent “I work at another *brand name* and wanted to see what y’all have going on.”

Snapchatting my GM about the hotel we stayed at and her saying “I bet their FD girl isn’t as amazing as ours.”

Especially when she found out that we had to do the lobby wander of shame because no one told us where the elevator was.

Our hotel room had a little curtain separating the bed and the fold out and Rachel was SO EXCITED ABOUT IT ((see the video)).

Watching all of Indoor Boys in one sitting because it only takes like an hour and a half and Rachel needed to see it

How excited I was about the bedspreads being cuter than the ones in my hotel ((theirs are polka dot AND match the towels in the bathroom; my property’s are houndstooth and the towels are just plain white))

Me briefly thinking the bathroom had no door before Rachel saved the day

Rachel wanting a Frosty at 11 p.m.

Which was easily solved, because there was a Wendy’s in the parking lot.

A much harder one was my sudden and intense craving for curly fries.

Arby’s closed at 10, but Jack in the Box is 24 hour and has curly fries.

So off we went.

ONLY THE ONE WE WENT TO HAD A HANDWRITTEN SIGN ON THE DRIVE THRU THAT THEY CLOSED AT 10.

I called another store and the dude was high key judgmental that I didn’t just //know// they’re 24-hours, as if I hadn’t just been betrayed by a store that should have been and wasn’t.

But they did have curly fries, so I got my curly fries.

Also we went to 7/11 so I could try the Captain Crunch Crunch Berry Slurpee. Which tastes EXACTLY like the cereal. You decide if that’s good or not. I thought it was, Rach decidedly did not.

Tuesday

I literally ate just a bowl of oatmeal toppings for breakfast. No oatmeal, just the toppings bar.

Rach stayed up in the room and slept in, so I brought her some yogurt. Only I wasn’t sure what flavor she’d want, so she got both peach and blueberry fruit on the bottom.

OUTLET SHOPPING. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been able to just leisurely wander around a mall and shop? Like without having a place to be at a time and/or a list of exactly what I did and didn’t need to buy?

Sam’s Lunch! ((which was then a total bust when they only had like two samples out))

“So hindsight, the Ulta looks further from here than it did from the highway.” “Yeah, you think so?”

The decision to ramen for lunch, which was then overridden when Tokyo Bowl was only one dollar sign on google and the ramen place was two.

Which was totally OK because the food was both fantastic and inexpensive

The part of the car ride where I caught up with my best friend since I was literally a year old.

High Street being just a little bit too fitting in Denver

The candy factory tour!! I’m a sucker for both free tourism and demonstrations. Especially when there’s free samples involved.

Fun fact: the flavored part of the fancy candy canes is NOT the striped part. It’s the inside layer.

Also that little kid in the group with us. “Do they send candy to Idaho? I am from Idaho.” “Do they help the elves make the candy?”

“Should I buy a whole pound of marshmallow scraps?” “It’s only five dollars.” “Right, but then I’ll eat the whole pound of marshmallows and we both know that.”

BRO-dway!

Me forgetting the theatre sharpie in the hotel room and making you circle back to get it, even if it was only two blocks

Our high-quality karaoke sessions in the car. What we lack in training, we more than make up for in enthusiasm.

Just the amount of screaming when we drove by the tour bus

Circling the block twice before we could get into the parking garage

We stopped at a fun little art exhibition thing between the parking garage and the theatre, literally just because the sign said “Under Study.” Then I looked at Rach and said “well, we always say understudies need more appreciation.”

I panicked as we crossed the train tracks NOT in the crosswalk, then again when we crossed the next set in the lines but I could distantly hear a train coming

((side note: Katie is NOT cut out for mass transit))

Tour bus photos are hard, but we made it work and they’re awesome!

I’m now the proud owner of my very own DEH cast hoodie, which I “conveniently forgot” to take home this weekend so mom can commandeer it until Christmas

Backstory: Katie is both afraid of heights and suffering altitude sickness, which results in lightheadedness and shortness of breath in … oh, I dunno, mile-high elevation

We had an extra ticket and decided to RAK it to someone who was sitting in an upper balcony so they could join us closer to the stage.

Which was/is a great idea, except that it required going to the upper balcony. Via the stairs. So by the time we got up there, the altitude sickness meant I couldn’t breathe. Leading me to step out to the little patio thing for some fresh air – usually slightly easier for me to breathe – while Rach scouted around for people.

Lack of forethought: BALCONIES ARE HEIGHTS.

So the first time I meet our new friend, it’s me zipping up behind Rachel and saying something about how I sure really would like to go back down in the elevator and get back to ground level.

Which we did, because Rach knows I’m like this and she’s wonderful and amazing

That made things … a lot better, and I was able to enjoy having a new theatre friend.

Which was wonderful, and she’s wonderful and that was such a neat thing to be able to do.

The Show

So we’ll start this one from taking our seats TEN ROWS FROM THE STAGE.

We’re gushing about how close we are to the stage and how great the view is and everything when I see someone coming up the back aisle who looks kinda familiar.

“Hey … is that Pasek and/or Paul?” “Nah, I don’t think so. Wait … YES IT IS!”

Cue us freaking out and shoving Rachel to the front of the group because I’m incapable of approaching people.

Long story short, we got autographs from Pasek and Paul, pics with Paul and Alex Lacamoire, and at intermission we got signatures from Michael Grief.

People kept asking us like “who those guys were” and we just went “they created the show!!”

Now this is where things are gonna get incoherent, because I spent 15 minutes gushing out thoughts as soon as the show ended and I got home, and I’m just going to type them out here.

Ben Levi Ross’s Evan and I do the same lil hands on face/neck/ears thing when we’re anxious.

Merrick’s Connor did the same little finger gesture thing I do at work when I give people directions to the elevator in my hotel during Sincerely, Me and I basically just DIED.

BLR’s Evan seemed so much less worldly than OBC, but Zoe was grown up AF

Larry was STUNNING and AMAZING

Tbh I got hella Leslie Knope vibes from Cynthia

Larry’s arms around Cynthia and his hand on her shoulder when they talked to Heidi and literally just Larry

Marrick’s rubbing and then sudden/intense nipple twist in Sincerely, Me

Everyone was SO GRATEFUL we were there to see the show

BLR hit the stage door in this amazing vintage pinstriped blazer. I told him I loved his jacket and I don’t know which one of us was more excited about that moment.

Rachel and I crushing each other’s hands the entire show ((it’s been five days as of this writing and the bruises are just now mostly healed))

Marrick missed a cue and the poor bab looked terrified

One word BLR said gave me like alarmingly intense vibes from the cast album, and it’s something I noticed right away, but now I can’t remember what word it was. But it sounded JUST LIKE Platt, in a very shooketh way

BLR tied the tie perfectly onstage and I’m shook. When I wear my tie to work, I have to get up 15 minutes earlier to have time to get it tied the right length

Jared’s Jared was 20/10. Amazing delivery and fantastic comedic relief

There were all these little costume changes from Broadway, since so many things had been thrifted

IT TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG TO NOTICE but Connor is wearing Evan’s hoodie, not the other way around, and I can prove it.

It’s on Evan’s bed during Anybody Have a Map?

I heard a voice behind me during Act Two, and my first thought was my usual “what kind if imbecile …” But then I realized it was Michael Grief, and like it’s his show, so he can do what he wants.

Same thing when Justin Paul used his phone as a light source so he could take notes on the show.

We mentioned to Arron at the stage door that we skipped two days of school and drove nine hours to see the show and he goes “It’s your life. You gotta live it.”

BLR finished the stage door line before Christiane did, so he passed behind her on his way back into the theatre and 10000 percent patted her ass football-style.

In For Forever I totally thought the original lyric was “life will be alright for forever,” not “LIKE WE’LL be alright for forever” and that hit me harder than it should have tbh

Dude, Larry hit me so hard at the beginning, like he recites part of the letter and it took me until now to realize how many times he must have read it over before that moment

Zoe’s wardrobe was so classy

Evan straight up hugging into Connor’s chest at the end of Sincerely, Me

At the stage door, Phoebe almost fell off her heels and said “that’s what I get for wearing stilts. But I’m out here with all these dudes, like I’ve gotta assert my dominance.

It was a Moment, especially when I replied “I don’t even need stilts to fall down. It just happens sometimes.”

FREE OPENING NIGHT HATS. I’m not a hat-wearer, but this hat might just make me into one.

We made friends with an eighth grader at the stage door, and she was so wonderful honestly.

The three of us referred to ourselves as “trash” and her mother looked so concerned

Post-Show/Wednesday

Rachel and I parted ways as soon as she dropped me off back at the hotel, so you’ll have to hit her up for her Wednesday stories.

But we were at the stagedoor when @crazygoblinfreakoutnoise just texted me like KATHERINE *lastname* so I replied like “can I call you and scream?” because that felt safer than texting her in mass caps while we walked alone in the dark in an unfamiliar city.

Then I woke up Wednesday at 4:30 a.m. ((kinda, I had so much post-show rush that I didn’t actually sleep much at all)) and ate my leftovers from Tokyo Bowl before I called an Uber.

Chattiest Uber driver EVER. It was a 45-minute ride and by the end of it, I knew about his divorce, how long his family has had season sports tickets, why he doesn’t go to the games, all the major highways in Denver, everywhere he’s ever traveled … the list goes on. But he did get me there safe

I’d left hella early because the TSA said Denver was super busy and had lots of delays at security. So I’m to the airport a full 150 minutes before my scheduled flight, full of excitement about being enough of an adult to manage my own road trip travels.

Then security took maybe half an hour. Not even that, but I’ll be generous.

Point is, I had lots and lots of time to explore.

And then they delayed my flight 40 minutes.

So I dropped seven bucks on a cup of coffee, trying to combat the two non-consecutive hours of sleep I was running on.

I did get to see the sun rise over the mountains with airplanes in the background though, and that view was incredible.

By the time I got to board, I really needed to pee, but I didn’t have time, and then both of my row-mates fell asleep before we even took off.

Also we sat on the tarmac for almost an hour. So by the time we landed I REALLY had to pee.

Finally got to a bathroom, and made it out to meet my dad, for a ride back to Rachel’s place to pick up my car.

We went for lunch before we did that, and longtime followers might remember the fries that changed my life back in April. I had more of those, and they’re still amazing.

I had to use two of my last four percent cell battery ((look, it’d been a really long day)) to re-reschedule a test. The plan had been to take it when I got back to campus, but then delays happened.

Happy ending: took the test the next day, set the curve with a 94 percent.

#seriously? best trip EVER #katie and rach: destination denver #the adventures of katie and rach #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl #flyawayrachel #crazygoblinfreakoutnoise #my franns #irl franns #dear evan hansen #deh #deh tour #dera evan hansen tour #road trip #my face #my video #here's your one chance fancy

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sidewritings · 7 years

Text

From Me To You

Prompt: Ummm… can I get some LAMP set right after accepting anxiety with the sides finding little presents from Virgil who’s trying to say thanks for caring enough to bring him back. The others decide to show him just how much they want him there. @bubblycricket

Additional request: fluffy af please. If there happens to be a moment where Virgil thinks he's in trouble for it and then is wholesomely surprised when it turns out hes not, who would complain? @irrelevantbutfabulous

Pairings: LAMP Polysides

Genres: Fluff, romance, comfort

Warnings: None come to mind, let me know if any are needed, will add

Word Count: 2808 (It ran away with me, I’m sorry)

Author’s Note: I am sick as heck and decided to use my time stuck in bed to write this. Special thank you to @tinysidestrashcaptain for coming up with the gift for Logan. I was super stumped by that. I apologize if this doesn’t fit the prompt exactly. There’s something about ‘little presents’ that didn’t translate to me.

Logan found them first. He woke up promptly at 7:00am, cleaned and dressed himself, and was down in the kitchen for his coffee at 7:15am. Once he'd finished his first cup of coffee and was preparing the second (black with five teaspoons of sugar), he finally noticed some oddly shaped packages on the coffee table in the living room.

Sipping at his coffee, he walked over to examine them. There was a manila envelope with his name on it closest to his spot by the hallway when they made videos. There was a large box about the size of a human torso lying horizontally nearest Roman's spot wrapped in red paper and the royal's name scrawled in one corner. A slightly smaller box stood on its end by Patton's spot near the window. The box was wrapped in pale blue paper with rubber duckies printed on it. A series of small, neat holes in the top of the box spelled Patton's name.

They appeared to be gifts, but Logan was cautious. New things that appeared in the mind-scape were often Roman's doing, and anything Roman did was highly unpredictable. The absence of a gift for Virgil could mean any number of things, but the presence of a gift for Roman meant it was unlikely the packages were left by Princey. Deciding it was too early in the morning to try to solve mysteries that would eventually solve themselves, Logan took a seat in his favorite spot and waited for the others.

Patton was the next to arrive, coming downstairs cheerfully humming with a little spring in his step none of the other sides could manage (or would want to) so early. A cheerful 'good morning, Logan!' was followed by much excitement over the gifts.

“Presents! Awww, how sweet. We should open them...”

“Inadvisable. We don't know where they came from or why they're here.”

“Oh, we should wait for Roman! He has a gift too. But there's none for Virgil, maybe I can make something for him before he wakes up!”

“That's a possibility, but there are still too many unknown variables,”

“Good morning, did I hear something about gifts?”

“Good day, Roman.”

“Hey, good morning Roman! Yeah, someone left us presents. Logan doesn't think we should open them though. Something about unknown vegetables.”

“Unknown variables, Patton.”

There was a short bout of bickering, ended temporarily by Roman's stomach growling. An agreement was reached to come back to the argument once they'd eaten. Patton went to the kitchen to make them all breakfast, Logan following to make more coffee for Roman and Virgil when he woke up (Patton did not require caffeination like the rest of them). Roman stayed in the living room, looking over the packages, lifting them, and looking for clues. Aside from the fact that Logan's gift seemed to be some kind of paper thing (the envelope read DO NOT BEND) on the back), and Roman's was not only larger but significantly heavier than the other gifts, and Patton's did not seem to be alive, despite the holes in the top, there was little he could figure out.

They ate their Mickey Mouse pancakes that Patton made (it was just three little pancakes connected, but it was a huge improvement in his cooking skill) and discussed what to do. Logan was easily overruled by Patton and Roman who hurried through breakfast to go open their gifts as soon as possible.

Moments later they were kneeling around the coffee table in front of their gifts. Patton tore his open with wild abandon, ripping off the ducky paper and rending the box. Seeing the contents his eyes went wide and he squealed with joy, lovingly plucking the stuffed Winnie the Pooh from the box and giving it a hug.

“I love you, Dad” came a sweet, small voice from the bear.

Patton's eyes opened impossibly wider, welling with tears as he emitted a shriek of pure joy and squeezed the bear again.

“You're a good man, Patton-cake!”

A single tear slid down Patton's cheek, “I will love you forever,” he whispered, holding the bear loosely and reverently in his arms.

“My turn!” Roman said, digging into his box with almost as much enthusiasm as Patton. His eyes shown with wonderment as he carefully lifted out the medieval torso armor from the box. The steel was polished to a high shine and in the center section of the chest was a decorative gold lion.

“Oh, you received a cuirass. That should come in handy on your adventures.” Logan said, admiring the practicality of the gift.

“This is... the Most EPIC THING!” Roman proclaimed, “And it matches my outfit!”

Logan rolled his eyes as Patton helped Roman into his new armor. Ignoring their struggle, Logan carefully lifted the envelope with his name on it and produced a letter opener, carefully slicing open the paper flap. There was indeed, just a piece of paper inside, and neither Patton's nor Roman's gifts had proved dangerous, so Logan reached in and took out his gift.

It was a beautifully accurate and detailed star chart. According to the information at the bottom (and his own understanding of astronomy), it showed the stars as they had looked from Thomas's home at the date and approximate time of Logan beating Princey in that rap battle. A slow, inexorable smile lit his face.

“This is... a most thoughtful, if not practical gift. Who could be responsible?”

“Yes! We must discover who is responsible for this incredible masterpiece,” Roman announced, theatrically gesturing to the detailed lion adorning his chest.

“You guys don't already know?”

Roman and Logan looked at a grinning Patton quizzically.

“It was Virgil! He's the only one who didn't get a gift and each of the gifts is something unique to us and our interests.”

Logan nodded, “He is the most likely culprit, and he's the one with the best motive.”

“What motive?” Roman looked between Logan and Patton, still confused.

“Gratitude. He's saying thank you for bringing him back when Thomas needed him.”

There was a moment of silence while the three sides contemplated their gifts in this new light.

“We need to do something for him!” Roman declared, rising from the floor and pulling the others with him. “We're going to thank him as well!”

Virgil rolled out of bed around noon and shuffled to the shower. There was some commotion in the commons below, but he ignored it. If it was that important he would have been called down already. He'd been up until early that morning finishing their gifts; checking and rechecking the accuracy of the star chart, figuring out the right compliments for Patton's bear to say, and the metal work on Princey's cuirass had been excruciatingly detailed, taking him hours to perfect.

Virgil showered, brushed his teeth, did his makeup, and got dressed, finished with the all-important hoodie, before heading downstairs. If they wanted to scold him for leaving Thomas so unprotected, he was as ready as he could be, and if they chose to ignore him, he was prepared for that too.

Walking down the stairs with a yawn, he wasn't prepared for the comfortable dimness of the room. Normally the lights were almost aggressively bright, but someone had closed the window shades, turned off the overhead light, and put light fabric covers over a couple of lamps that were on. It made the room, cozy.

The kitchen was also in a cozy state of dim lighting, and standing by the counter were Logan, Roman, and Patton. Virgil figured it was probably an intervention of some kind. At least they hadn't been stupid enough to come into his room this time. Roman pulling out his chair at the table had to be a power play of some kind. Fine, he'd play along. Logan handing him his coffee fixed to his personal preference (lots of milk, a little sugar) was probably to ensure he was awake and responsive during this. Patton placing a plate of delicious looking breakfast food in front of him... well, it's Patton. Being impossibly kind and feeding his 'kiddos' were what he did best.

Logan sat to his right, Patton on his left, and Princey sat across from him at the table.

“Hey, Verge, did you sleep okay?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, fine.” He wasn't about to tell them how late he'd stayed up working on their gifts.

“Glad to hear it, kiddo! Do you have any plans today?”

It was a good thing he didn't because it seems like they would've been interrupted anyway.

“No. I was just gonna listen to my music.”

“Well, we were thinking of taking a relaxing day too. Why don't you join us for a movie?” Roman asked, somehow hopeful and apprehensive.

“Uh, sure,” Virgil responded, looking around at everyone else in confusion. If they wanted to talk to him, a movie wasn't really the best way. Oh crap, he'd said yes. Now he was going to have to listen to them arguing over which movie to watch and then sit through whichever movie they chose.

“Great!” Virgil turned to stare at Logan who had just exclaimed so loudly, “Uh, I mean, that is acceptable.”

Virgil finished his, well, not breakfast, more like lunch, and, surprisingly, Logan grabbed the dishes and offered to watch them while they set up the movie. The anxious side braced himself for the bickering he expected to follow, but instead, Princey went to the TV and turned it on, grabbing a DVD case on the way. Patton held Virgil's arm and pulled him to sit next to him on the couch.

“I got the nicest gift today! Someone, they didn't leave their name, gave me a Winnie the Pooh bear! And he compliments me when I give him a hug!” Patton picked up the bear from its seat on the back of the couch and held him out to Virgil. “Isn't he the best thing!”

Virgil smiled one of his tiny, closed mouth one-side-lifting-slightly smiles. He was glad Patton liked it, and he'd be relieved that the other sides hadn't figured out the gifts were from him, if not for the mischievous twinkle in Patton's eyes.

“Yeah Patton, that's... that's a great bear.”

Patton beamed and held the bear gently to his chest. He leaned over and rested his head on Virgil's shoulder.

“Is this okay kiddo?”

Virgil froze. Patton had been casually physical with Roman and Logan since just before Valentine's day but hadn't done this almost snuggling with him before.

“Sure... you can make yourself comfortable... if you want.” He was pretty sure he was blushing through his makeup.

Patton scootched a little closer and rested his hand on Virgil's knee, sighing as he relaxed into Virgil's side. The feeling of the moral side relaxing against him made him relax a bit too. Maybe interventions wouldn't be so bad if they included food and movies and cuddling Patton like this.

Roman finished with the tv and flopped onto the couch on Virgil's other side.

“You almost finished out there Sherlock? It's movie time!” the royal called to the kitchen.

“Done!” Logan came into the living room moments later, sitting on the other side of Roman.

A press of the remote and the Black Cauldron started to play. Verge looked over at Roman, but he was already engrossed in the movie. He looked at Logan who was openly looking back at him quizzically as if to say, is this not to your liking? Virgil shrugged the shoulder not occupied by Patton and started watching the movie.

While Taran met Gurgi in the forest on screen, Princey was squirming in his seat beside Virgil.

“You okay, Princey?” Virgil asked, eying Roman with concern and curiosity.

“Just a tad uncomfortable. Can't seem to find a good position.” Roman replied, still shifting about.

“Then find a comfortable position and stop moving. You're being a distraction,” Logan hissed quietly.

Roman huffed quietly with a dramatic eye roll and flopped over, putting his head in Virgil's lap and swinging his legs across Logan's. Logan rested his arms on Princey's legs and continued watching, he had been slowly acclimating to this sort of physical contact. Virgil froze until he felt Patton squeeze his knee and nuzzle his shoulder.

So that was their game. This wasn't an elaborate intervention to tell him off for leaving (or, if it was, they were taking their sweet time). They were making an effort to include him and make him feel comfortable with them. Virgil relaxed and began paying attention to the movie again as Hen Wen ran from the Horn King's dragons.

Logan got up to get drinks and make popcorn right after Taran, the princess, and the bard escaped the castle. Virgil thought it a rather odd time to do so, since it was about the half-way point of the movie, but he was trying, in his own way. What stumped the heck out of him was when Logan came back, placing popcorn and beverages on the coffee table, sat on the floor in front of Virgil, close to but not touching him.

Roman grumbled about Logan blocking his view and sat up again, this time putting his arm on the back of the couch around Virgil's shoulders. A light push from Patton had Virgil leaning into Roman, and Roman's arm draped over his shoulders instead. Patton himself laid his head on Virgil's lap, his hand reaching over the edge of the couch where, Virgil presumed, he held Logan's hand.

No one moved to grab their drink or grab a handful of popcorn.

As the credits began to roll, Patton sat up and stretched, Logan reached for the remote, and Roman moved his arm. Virgil was a bit disappointed. He had really enjoyed the physical closeness and feeling so, well, included with everyone. He moved away from Roman a bit as Logan got up to take out the DVD. Patton stood up and stretched with an adorable yawn. Roman got up and offered a hand to Virgil, who took it, not wanting this physical intimacy to end just yet.

“Okay, I need a break after that one,” Patton said.

Virgil nodded, yeah, he got the message, party over.

“How about 15 minutes so I change into my cat onesie and we can all stretch and maybe use the bathroom before the next movie?”

Virgil stared at Patton. He, wanted to keep doing this? What about the others? Logan had already put away Black Cauldron and was opening The Nightmare Before Christmas DVD box. Roman was just smiling at him, still holding his hand even though they'd both been standing for a while now. Virgil felt another blush spread on his cheeks and creep down his neck to his chest.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Virgil said, a bit hesitantly but genuinely.

“Epic! I'm changing into my pajamas then.” Roman squeezed his hand before releasing it and heading to his room to change.

“Acceptable parameters, though I have no intentions of changing,” Logan said from in front of the tv.

“Fine, more onesie for me!” Patton sank out to go change, with Roman calling after him, “That's not how it works!”

Virgil ducked his head to hide a grin, not that anyone was looking anyway. As he began climbing the stairs, Logan cleared his throat.

“That was a very thoughtful gift I received this morning. I hope the bestower knows that I value it greatly.”

Yeah, they totally knew he was responsible for their gifts, and instead of calling him out on it and making him uncomfortable, they'd chosen to acknowledge it indirectly and still show him that they care. Virgil's chest swelled and he felt warm all over.

“I'm sure they do.” He said and continued up the stairs to his room to change.

Several hours later found the four of them on the couch fast asleep in various states of undress, cuddled up to each other as the credits from Fantasia played. Logan was in sleep pants and a softer button down, necktie slightly askew and glasses on the coffee table. He was curled around a sleeping Patton in his cat onesie, looking peaceful with a tiny smile on his lips and a Pooh bear in his arms. Virgil was in a different tee shirt and sleep pants, forgoing the hoodie just this once. He was holding onto and held tight by Roman who wore only sleep pants, a blanket from the back of the couch draped over them both. It was a peaceful night's rest for all.

Additional Author’s Note: I literally watched The Black Cauldron for the first time ever today because of this fic. Now that I have finally finished, I’m going to watch Winnie The Pooh: Boo to You Too, my favorite Halloween movie.

#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Request Fic #From Me To You #LAMP #Polyamsanders #cuddles #long reads #sidewritten

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sweetnestor · 7 years

Text

Story of Another Us | Week 7, Part 2

university au, platonic af, now on ao3!

warning: suicide mention

previous chapter

Play the scene over again

I woke up to find myself in the familiar setting of my bedroom. I felt disgustingly groggy, bringing the ball of my hand to rub my eye. When I removed it, I just saw smudges of black and gold, and I sighed. I fell asleep with my makeup on, which meant I had a million new zits to treat.

Once I crawled out of bed, I realized that I had fallen asleep in the clothes from yesterday as well. I remembered The Tube, and that I was with Jack. It was definitely my idea to bust out the alcohol, and now I was struggling to remember what exactly happened.

I heard him laugh in the living room. I wondered why he didn’t sound like a hungover mess, but then I remembered that I was the biggest lightweight in the world. I wondered if he remembered what we got down to last night.

I spent a good amount of time in the bathroom, washing off yesterday’s makeup and also puking. That was mainly why I never drank: I hated throwing up. I was always afraid of getting out of control and giving myself a hangover. Well, today that fear was my reality. You could imagine how shitty I felt in that moment. To top it off, Mother Nature decided to pay me a visit. Wait, it gets better. The box of necessary items I had under my sink was empty. I really shouldn’t have woken up at all today.

I didn’t trust myself at all to use toilet paper as a temporary substitute while I went to the convenient store down the street. But at the same time, I was too embarrassed to call Mark or even ask Jack to run the errand for me. Or… would I rather risk getting an awful stain on my jeans in public? What’s worse, embarrassment in front of one person or many people?

“Jack?” I called, hoping to god he wasn’t recording.

I opened the bathroom door and peered my head outside. I saw Jack enter my room, looking as rugged as I felt.

“Morning, Baller!” he greeted.

I smiled nervously. “Hey,” I spoke slowly, giving away how I felt. “Could you do me a big favor?”

“Of course, what do you need?”

Sheepishly, I reached my arm out of the bathroom, holding out the empty box of pads to him. “Could you run down the street and get me more of these?” My cheeks went completely red.

He took the box, examining the label. “Specifically this? Like, this brand and everything?”

“Yes please, if you don’t mind. I’m picky about my lady products.”

“Yeah, I’ll get them for you. Need anything else? Painkillers? Chocolate? Ice cream?”

I got even more sheepish. “Chocolate ice cream?”

“You got it!”

“Thank you so much, you’re an angel!” I called as he walked out of the room.

I physically relaxed once he was gone. One, because I was getting what I needed, and two, because Jack was really casual and sweet about it. Not that I wasn’t expecting that, I was just relieved that we were on the same level of closeness.

As that thought passed through, I remembered the conversation we had at The Tube. It was fuzzy, but I knew it had something to do with us being together as more than friends. Thinking about that made my stomach sink. Did I ask Jack to get me sanitary pads so comfortably because he’s my boyfriend now?

My stomach sank further. It was honestly a ridiculous thought, but my mind was never rational. I tried to remember more of last night’s discussion, but it was too fuzzy and faded. More reasons why I don’t drink alcohol.

What if I betrayed Mark? What if I went completely against all of my morals? Not only would I have cheated on my boyfriend, I would have cheated with one of his friends! And to think I went so easily with Jack when I didn’t want to at all with Mark! It just made me look that much more suspicious!

My phone dinged suddenly, making me jump. I really did not remember turning on the ringer. Today really was crazy. I left the bathroom to grab it off my nightstand and went straight back, discovering that I had a text from Mark.

“Good afternoon :p how you feeling? Need anything?”

My heart was racing unnecessarily fast. What could I say?

“Nope,” I typed. “Jack’s getting everything I need right now.”

And I hit send without even thinking about it. More like, I didn’t want to think about how it sounded because then I really would have freaked out.

Jack returned rather quickly, probably knowing how dire my situation was. He knocked on the door, and I reached my hand out to grab my necessities. He told me my ice cream would be in the freezer, and I thanked him multiple times, underlying anxiety running through my veins. He seemed to be acting normal, maybe he was avoiding the situation too.

Once I finished in the bathroom, I tried to distract myself with other things. Mark hadn’t texted me back, which only added more to my suspicions of betrayal. I didn’t have a video to film today, and I obviously missed my classes for the day. Not that I would be able to sit in a classroom with Jack for a period of time, much less the car. Everything felt wrong.

It took some time for me to work up the courage to leave my own bedroom. In my own damn apartment. Anxiety is a bitch.

I saw Jack sitting on the sofa, watching one of the Harry Potter movies on TV. I made my way to the kitchen before we could even make eye contact, though. Still, he asked me to join him from where he was sitting. I groaned internally as I grabbed my ice cream from the freezer, but I did as he requested anyway. At least we’d be watching a movie I could easily get invested in.

“You feeling okay?” he asked when I sat down.

“I’m fine,” I replied, pulling the cap off my tub. The irresistible urge to word vomit was coming up, however, and I couldn’t hold back. “Did we sleep together last night?”

For a second, Jack didn’t look at me. But then he turned, utterly bewildered. “No! What? Why would you think we did?”

Word. Vomit.

“I don’t know! You were so nice to me when I woke up y sentía rara y habíamos hablado sobre de ser un pareja y quien sabe que! Y mi ansiedad me pone paranoica y estábamos todo borrachos y no sé! No sé!”

Jack was still looking at me in shock. “I didn’t catch any of that, but I can tell you that we didn’t do anything last night! Mark picked us up, remember? There was a song playing in the diner, and you were telling me how much he hated it, and then he walked in. Don’t you remember?”

Nothing rang a bell. “But he left right after he dropped us off, didn’t he?” My mind was still trying to make me believe that I would actually betray my boyfriend.

“He left this morning. He and Ryan brought your car back from campus!” Jack reassured. “Bella, I promise you I’d never do something like that. You’re Mark’s girlfriend, and I have a girlfriend! We were only a little tipsy last night, it’s not like we were out of control.”

I sighed heavily, taking in a big spoonful of ice cream. Jack was still looking at me in thought.

“Or… do you feel guilty about the conversation we had?” he asked gently. “Was what we talked about something you’ve thought about before?”

I shook my head. “No. The shippers just got to my head, along with the alcohol. You’re my friend, I see you as my friend. My only friend that isn’t my boyfriend.”

He smiled at my statement. “You’re my friend too. And, speaking of your boyfriend, should we tell him about that little talk we had?”

“Maybe we should keep that to ourselves,” I said. “I mean, I didn’t tell him about that extensive conversation we had about One Direction. It’s not worth mentioning.”

“Okay. I won’t say anything either.”

I don’t know why it was so easy to talk to him. Things were just comfortable with him. I actually felt better, almost secure with what we had. It was no wonder why people looked up to him. He understood, and he gave off good vibes. That was what made it so easy to speak my next thought:

“Can I tell you about how and why I got into makeup?”

“For as long as I’ve been on YouTube, I never hid the fact that I’m bisexual. I was open about it from the start because I’m proud of it, and honestly, I don’t see a lot of bi representation in entertainment or the media. I think it’s important to have that, I know my fifteen year old self would have really needed to see that, but um… yes, my fifteen year old self.

“I came to terms with my sexuality at that age. Literally, as long as I can remember, I had a strong affection for girls as well as boys. I accepted that during my sophomore year of high school. Things in my life were so different at the time, so the first people I wanted to tell were my parents. It went well, it was fine… until I had my first girlfriend.”

I paused, pulling myself together before I could start bawling.

“It’s just… mindblowing that some parents will pick their religion over their child. I started having panic attacks and my own mother told me it was the devil possessing me and that’s why I was having ‘unholy’ thoughts about women. Needless to say, the rest of high school was hell. I was having panic attacks very often, and I had no idea what anxiety was or that I was experiencing it. I don’t know how I ended up thinking like this, but I thought that panicking for up to forty minutes everyday was normal. I thought everyone had shaking hands, or that it was normal to be afraid of making phone calls. I thought everyone felt these things I was feeling, but we weren’t allowed to talk about it.

“Anyway, makeup. Around my senior year, things at home weren’t any better, so I started avoiding going there for as long as I could. I was killing time at Walgreens because I was too anxious to ask my friends to hang out. Again, thought that was what everyone did. So I’m walking around the store, and I see this Wet n Wild eyeshadow palette. It was called ‘Spoiled Brat’ and the colors were black, pink and silver. For some reason, I just fell in love with it and bought it. I felt good about the purchase, and I started playing around with the colors. I mostly used the black and silver to reflect how sad I was at the time, and I wore it because it made me feel good. Like, everything sucks but at least my eyes look dark and edgy.

“So I graduated and moved out of my parents’ house. That was almost six years ago, and I haven’t spoken to them since.” I shrugged, emotions stuck in my throat. “I’m okay with it. Anyway, at one point I came out as bisexual on Facebook, and to put it shortly, I ended up removing all my family members. The second I knew they said something against my sexuality, they were gone. Or they just stopped inviting me to things, and quietly made their message clear. After putting up with my parents, I just didn’t want anyone to have a say in who I am. It was hard having to leave them behind, because up until then, I did have a decent relationship with my family, but not one of them wanted to understand me. And to me, that’s not family.

“Uh… time went on, I started going to cosmetology school, and I fell in love for the first time. That relationship ended, and I pretty much spiraled. It wasn’t just that particular breakup, it was everything. See, I was with this girl. She was amazing, but she hadn’t come out to her family, and they were… like my parents, but worse. We broke up because she was terrified of her parents finding out, and while I understood that, I was in a place where I wouldn’t let people tell me that liking girls was wrong. So after that, I was just alone. Here I was, bisexual and proud, but I was alone. My family didn’t want me back, and all the friends I had were her friends and they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. And I was still having panic attacks and bouts of depression, and I felt like that was killing me. I wanted it to kill me. I started thinking about suicide, and I planned it out, and set a date.” I looked down, tears finally falling.

“Then, one day. One fucking day I was browsing online, looking at makeup, and I found this thing called a ‘Chocolate Bar Palette.’ It piqued my interest and I placed an order. The delivery date was a few days after my date… so I put it off just to try this palette. Then it was a lipstick, then a contour kit… I kept pushing my suicide date just to try all these makeup products. Next thing I know, it’s twenty fourteen, and YouTube University is announced.

“It got better. I found my current boyfriend at YTU, and he makes my world easier and happier.”

I could help but cry even more. I couldn’t believe someone as dull as me was here now. I couldn’t believe I was still alive.

“Okay, okay…” I sniffed, wiping the tears away. “So what you should take from this video is first, there’s no shame in who you are. It’s a long and hard process, but you deserve to be happy and proud of yourself. Second, there’s no shame in reaching out and getting help. It took me years to finally see a therapist and it’s really benefited me. And finally, there’s no such thing as a dumb reason not to kill yourself. You are worthy of a good life, you need to stay and see what life has to offer. When I was twenty one and crying in my studio apartment, I didn’t think I would be here now! And I’m not saying I’m one hundred percent okay either. Recovery is an everyday thing, and I know all of you going through dark times right now are strong enough to make it. I promise you it won’t be like this forever. We’ll do this together. I love you all so, so much, and thank you for watching.”

_______

next chapter

#jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticeye x reader #jacksepticeye x oc #markiplier x oc #markiplier x reader #sweetheart writes #soau #now yall know about bella #i have many plans for her #for her and jack and for her and mark #yall dont know whats coming

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