ways_back_room | Friday DE

Hellooooo Milliways! Happy Friyay, y'all!

I've been in a funk, I'll admit, but the last couple of days I have felt the fire for creativity and been excited about taking up things (and then yesterday had to curtail that because work and a deadline ate up my entire day). So, let's get creative and have a Fic Friday!

BUT, let's do it with a twist.

Stealing one of my own ideas from the DE Suggestion Box (feel free to leave your own for future DE's!), today will be reverse fic prompts.

Instead of tagging in with your characters, tag in with random fic prompts and people can browse through and pick up ones to write fic with using their own pups and then share.

One of the things I find myself doing as I go about my day is I pick up random ideas, song lyrics, snatches of dialogue that could make for a story. Most of the time I have characters in mind to assign these to, but sometimes I don't and I end up squirreling them away until I find someone they'd work for.

Share those tidbits now, whether their phrases, song lyrics, first lines, whatever, and maybe they'll find a home with someone's character.

No word limit today, short or long, if the mood strikes, write!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ warnings for language, implicit and explicit references to addiction ]

- - - - -

I've been sleepwalking, wandering all night / trying to take what's lost and broke and make it right

- - - - -

[ milliways ]

"Kate, hey, uh — " Bill clears his throat. "D'you have a minute?"

He hasn't slept at all, and his hands are about as steady as his voice — one part nerves, one part pure biochemistry. Detox is a goddamn sadist. He curls his fingers into his palms, in hopes Kate won't notice.

Her gaze meets his, and Bill doesn't miss the flash of something in those blue eyes he loves so much — it looks like fear, or something close to trepidation.

(The bar is right there, just a few feet away, endless rounds just waiting to be poured from the dozens of top-shelf bottles behind the counter. Bill could drown himself in half a heartbeat, smother and squash the clawing panic shredding through his crawling skin.)

"A minute," Kate says with a small nod, and the reserve in her voice nearly breaks Bill's resolve.

"Could we, uh, maybe," and he cuts his eyes away from the bar, "go out back for a sec? I won't — I swear I won't keep you long."

(And there it is again in her eyes. Christ, he's made her afraid of him.)

"Sure," she says, but she's glancing around the bar, like she's looking for witnesses, or maybe help.

Jesus, Bill thinks, talk about fucked up.

Out on the porch, it's quiet and still, the cool morning air tinged with the promise of spring.

(It'd almost be hopeful — if only.)

As they approach the wooden railing, Bill glances over, taking in Kate's profile, and the way the rising sunlight streaks her blond hair with scarlet.

He wets his lips before he speaks.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you exactly how sorry I am for how much I've hurt you, Kate." His voice is low, heavy with regret. "I — I've done the kind of damage I don't know can be undone, and I'm ... Christ, I'm pretty damn sure I've lost you. I've been reckless, I've been a fuckin' nightmare for you."

She wraps her arms around herself as he speaks, and he's not sure if it's the chilly morning air, or if she's protecting herself from him.

"But, uh, I just — I wanted you to know that I've stopped drinkin'."

Bill's voice almost falters when he sees her fingers tighten into fists, and her lips press together in a bloodless line.

"I'm takin' a leave of absence," he continues, stilted but earnest, "and I've got a spot in a program up in Hilton Head, and, uh — I'm headin' there this afternoon, for a couple months."

He doesn't dare look up, afraid of what he'll see written on Kate's face.

"Thirty days inpatient, thirty days outpatient. I just — I wanted you to know, is all."

His heartbeat hammers in his ears; he's certain Kate can hear it.

"That's good," she says softly, and he's so startled, he does lift his eyes.

"Yeah?"

Kate nods, and as weary and worn as she is, Bill can also see genuine relief etched on her features.

"Take care of yourself, sheriff," she says, and gives his forearm a brief squeeze before heading back inside.

Throat tight and eyes tearing, Bill exhales, long and slow, watching his breath fog before his face.

"All right, asshole," he mutters shakily to himself. "Let's live one fuckin' day at a fuckin' time."

Edited 2021-01-30 01:54 (UTC)

Oh ow, my heart, I miss these two.

B'awww, thank you for reading; I'm so glad this caught your eye and your heart. ♥ It's an unholy amount of fun to revisit them.

Oh God what are you even doing to me???

I've read this about a hundred times over the weekend and my HEART. WAUGH.

I'm pretty sure this is a prompt you gave me a million years ago and you have totally pulled a Reverse Uno on me and destroyed me with it. Well done my friend, well done.

Ahhh, I am not worthy, friend. Thank you for letting me borrow Bill, here, and proceed to do terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things. ♥

Also, I have legit lol'd, because you just might be right! This may have been one I tossed at you at some point? REVERSE UNO FOR THE WIN, muahahaha. Thank you, thank you; I'm so glad you've been reading and re-reading and it has given you a case of the feels. ♥

Friday DE

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