#walkmanned

[bornafraid]

┌  @walkmanned​  ┐

     ▶ “IT'S KIND OF NICE TO NOT BE ALONE.” jasper muttered with his head laying against the cold concrete on the roof. his grip was TIGHT around the purple walkman his brother had given him that he was TOO AFRAID to ask about the origin of at first. “it’s like having my own GENIE.”

[fatestricken]

                    ❛   you’re   a   strange   one   ...   ❜    thanamos   starts   ,   trailing   off   as   she   circles   around   the   other   like   some   sort   of   predator .     though   ,   she   means   no   harm .     she   can’t   help   her   ...   creep   factor   anymore   than   he   can   help   his   current   predicament   ,    ❛   how   did   this   happen   to   you   ?   ❜    of   course   ,   she   can   peek   into   his   past   and   see   for   herself    [   ...   ]    but   ,   she   wants   to   hear   it   from   him .

@walkmanned​    //    sc .

[vibechecktm]

a handful of crumpled bills are dropped into west’s open guitar case as dae sits down beside him. there’s a twenty inevitably hidden amongst the ones — he always does this. ❛ play something you think i’ll like. ❜

For about a week, West goes missing   —   a bruise around one of his eyes for his trouble; a throbbing reminder of his cousin’s right hook. The wolf wants to believe that the physical aspects of the encounter were the worst, that the words screamed at him haven’t been rolling around in his head for days. There was a time where he easily put what he thought were just creatures down. Creatures he now knows to be people. Creatures he now relates to. Killing used to be easy   —   and in a pained rage there had been that moment, that very real decision to add his own blood to the list   —   but in the end, he’d limped away without going through with it. The better man, perhaps   —   but to his family? Weakened. Worthless. A failure and a monster, destined to wander the streets until one of them finally takes his life. It takes a bit for him to shake it all. It takes a bit for him to bounce back. The suffering comes and goes. Emotions are shoved down as deep as they will go and West considers his options. The city itself is pretty big. Finding him had been something of a stroke of luck   —   and given his upbringing, there’s a huge chance that his family is going to assume West’s next move is to flee. The urge is there. He knows it’s what he needs to do. Get out. Hit the road. Maybe steal a car and go as far as it’ll go until the gas runs out. He can’t stay here   —   he can’t be in the same place for long and yet when the moment comes to start planning his exit, he stops. Pale, freckled skin. Deep brown eyes, darkened with makeup. A voice that seems to literally haunt. West doesn’t even know his name. He just knows he can’t fucking stay because of him. And yet.

Within a few days, West ends up back on the corner with his guitar in hands. The sky grays; the threat of rain very much in the air. It’s all he can smell as people come and go   —   as they try and do whatever tasks they need to before the oncoming downpour hits. They all have somewhere better to be. They all have people waiting for them. Some of them toss money his way and a few of them occasionally linger to appreciate his voice before moving on again. The blond loses count of how many umbrellas he sees in people’s hands as he strums away   —   thoughtful. A little achey. Lost. West is a stray on the street and there isn’t a single person in this city who sees him as anything else. Sometimes he catches a whiff of someone inhuman and he turns his head to find something like pity shining in straight-forward gazes. They know, but who wants to bring a broken dog home when the world has soulmates and other true companions? West sits. He wonders what belonging anywhere feels like   —   and he considers his options for where he can end up to get out of the rain. The library might be his best shot at staying dry and passing the time but his desire to start in that direction comes to a sudden pause when someone in particular stands over him. Pale, freckled skin. Deep brown eyes, darkened with makeup. A voice that seems to literally haunt. West doesn’t even know his name. He just knows he fucking stayed because of him. A request comes and West ignores the warmth in his chest, ignores the excitement that seems to take over his core. The smile forms and for a moment he seems to try and get more comfortable   —   strings idle, tune nonspecific as he tries to decide on a song. Eventually, he settles on one. And he sounds so sad, the sky can’t hold back its tears.

[crashescars]

stop. rewind.

for @walkmanned. i apologize in advance.

“and that’s all he has.”

          Vaughan’s not accustomed to driving by himself these days. He’s become so used to Dae by his side in the passenger’s seat that when Dae needs to recharge, a day feels like a week, & time drags on. He counts down the minutes until he can see him again -- though, most of the time he’s wrong, and Dae’s reappearance comes as a surprise. The happiest of surprises. Throughout the past months that they’d known each other, Vaughan felt -- say, fonder -- of Dae, and especially when he was gone. Whoever said out of sight, out of mind was wrong. Dae was always on his mind. Dae was comfort. Stability. Company.           But when Dae wasn’t there, Vaughan kept that Walkman safe. He had to. Dae warned him -- if it breaks, I’m gone. And Vaughan promised. Promised Dae that he’d keep it safe and he did, in a case, fastened tight, usually in the lockbox on the passenger’s side. There’s a key to get into it and when Vaughan had to leave his car he made damn sure to lock it. No one was taking it. Not that anyone would, but paranoia over losing it -- not knowing where Dae was, essentially -- set in often. Sometimes he’d take it out to look at it, or to play a tape -- one that Dae got him as a gift.            The tape was playing when the crash happened. High-speed T-bone collision to Vaughan’s passenger side. And Vaughan wasn’t thinking. Only of the crash. The excitement of the impact overtook any other feeling and when the other driver stepped out to check on Vaughan and ask him if he was alright was when it hit. Where was the music?           Where was the Walkman?           Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It can’t be far, right? Take a deep breath, Vaughan, it’s probably on the floor of the car. And it wasn’t. Vaughan scrambles to the backseat and the other driver kept asking him if he was okay and no, he’s not okay, because he can’t find the fucking Walkman and he can’t find Dae. He can’t find Dae and all because he left it in the fucking seat and where is it? Where the fuck is it? Vaughan grabs hold of the door handle and shakes it as if to try and open the door and when that doesn’t work he jumps over the side and onto the road and prays to whatever the fuck is up there that it’s not --           Behind the Lincoln. In pieces. And Vaughan goes cold.           His hands go cold and he doesn’t remember walking over and the other driver yelling that there’s a car coming but he doesn’t care right now. He doesn’t and the tape isn’t playing anymore. The back wheel had crushed it. His back wheel. He kneels on the wet pavement and stares at the broken plastic and catches a glimpse of himself in a shard of glass from the window of the player.            The other driver is at his side and when Vaughan looks at him the driver sees Vaughan’s eyes filling with tears. “Are you okay?”           Vaughan doesn’t answer and he’s shaking his head and picking up the pieces of the Walkman from the pavement -- he has to fix it. He has to fix it because it’s his fault and he wasn’t being careful and he promised! He promised to take care of it -- of him -- and he’s holding small pieces of plastic in his hands and there are tears running down his face.            The other driver goes to put a hand on Vaughan’s shoulder and Vaughan jerks away, and he stands up and runs to his car with all the pieces that shouldn’t be pieces and drives away as fast as he can and he doesn’t want to stop but he has to fix it. He has to find someone who can fix it and bring him back but there’s no fucking use, it’s completely shattered. The tape along with it. His heart along with those. Fuck, it’s his fucking fault and Dae is gone, he’s gone and Vaughan can’t fucking do anything about it. He has to pull over because his tears are clouding his vision and as much as he doesn’t care about the road he just feels like screaming.           He can’t get Dae back and he spends days wandering to fix-it shops and it’s no use, everyone thinks he’s out of his fucking mind & maybe he is. He tries to glue parts of it back together himself at his apartment & nothing is working. He lays his head on his dingy kitchen table & closes his eyes. Maybe he’ll wake up.           Maybe he’ll wake up & everything will be okay. And Dae will be there, in his passenger’s seat as always. Right?           He opens his eyes to pieces of the Walkman. And that’s all he has. He grabs a piece between his fingers... and holds it to his chest.            That’s all he has. 

[bornafraid]

[ GUARDED ]  sender insists on staying the night to keep watch over receiver who has been in some kind of danger. 

@walkmanned

“--I’M FINE.” a total LIE. jasper was TERRIFIED of... well, almost everything. he was scared of his own shadow most nights, for crying out loud. but this? this was EXTREME, even for him. he’d taken that STUPID busted up walkman and run to his bedroom when his brother threatened to flame the thing. he could NOT let that happen.

he wasn’t ANGRY with the inanimate object, and especially not the MAN within it... he was just angry that it was the only thing keeping him near. jasper wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he had to START ALL OVER. still, right now, dae needed to take it and get far, far away. “please go.” he muttered, a surprising softness in his tone.

[crashescars]

❝  i’m all yours.  ❞

         It doesn’t matter how many times Vaughan hears it, there’s always something so special about Dae referring to himself solely as Vaughan’s. Never in his life did Vaughan think that another person would want him so much, would adore him so much, to want to nearly belong to him. Yet, the words are increasingly welcomed, and every time Dae says them, a smile creeps up across Vaughan’s scarred mouth. 

          Rain beats down on the windows of Vaughan’s apartment, the rooms illuminated by lightning. Some old rerun is playing on the television across the room, but Vaughan’s not paying attention to it at all. He can’t even name the show that’s on. There’s a beautiful man curled up into his side, however. A beautiful man who makes the coldest nights seem extremely warm. And this is where Vaughan’s attention has been going. They’ve been kissing for a while now ( could be minutes, could be hours. Vaughan doesn’t mind either way. ) And Dae says those words, those words that make Vaughan smile, and Vaughan does, his eyes crinkling. His smile stays as he presses one more gentle kiss to Dae’s lips, and squeezes the other’s hand a little tighter. “Hm? Don’t think I -- I caught that. Say it again?” Vaughan laughs. He heard it. Of course he heard it. His heart’s racing, and he wonders, momentarily, if Dae can feel it.

         “Promise?”

[valeriian]

“Again with the rain..” Robert sighs, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head and giving a look up towards the clouds, as if fatherly disappointment could keep the downpour from coming. Of course, nothing is going to stop a storm, so instead he chooses to quicken his pace towards home.

It’s a few blocks from home that he spots something -- a purple walkman seemingly dropped or abandoned just barely out of reach of the storm. At first, he doesn’t think to grab it, but there’s an itch in the back of his mind that has him hurrying over and scooping the item up, carefully tucking it into an inner pocket before setting off again.

He returns home, greeting the nanny and his daughter before heading into his office, setting the walkman down on his desk with a sigh. “A shame someone seems to have lost you. I guess I’ll put a few postings out, maybe someone is looking.. Can’t imagine someone still carrying one around and not loving it.”

@walkmanned​