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#these thoughts brought to you by me listening to the songs that were my crutches as a kid
meanderfall · 9 months
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truly my family did such a piss poor job raising me that i literally credit music, tv shows, movies, and books, for actually teaching me anything
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ask-the-mirror-da · 2 years
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Pls pls pls I know it’s been forever but my brain is on hyperactive mode just let me talk.
There’s this amazing beautiful musical that has changed my life for the better I think. It’s called Ride the Cyclone and the characters made me think of this and now I can’t stop thinking about this and I’m freakin out man!!!
Let’s start with my personal favorite character, Jane Doe.
Jane Doe is a character who has lost her entire identity because the coroners were never able to find her head. She wears a little too porcelain doll head and carries around a beheaded doll. Her story is traumatic and her song is all about mourning her lost, unknown life.
Who am I gonna relate this character to? The DA obviously. The DA who was murdered, put in a mirror, came out of the mirror and didn’t remember their past life. If you listen to the song it has recalling of her life and the desperation to just know a little bit about her old self. It’s also very old timey, having a Ballad/Opera feel to it. Makes sense right? YEAH!!
My second Fav Character, Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg. A girl who has always had the thirst for success and pushes others down to get her way until the end of the show. Watch it to find out what I mean. A girl whose entire song is about how her life means more and obviously she should be the one at the chance of life because she has so much to do!
Actor Mark. Duh. The thirst for success. The putting others down. The thought that he’s the hero and everyone else’s life means less than his!!!! UGH.
Constance Blackwood is “The Nicest Girl In Town” whose entire song is about how nothing good ever happened to her accept for in the town she lived in with all her friends. At first she hated her small town but then everything changed when she died. She sings about how lovely her life is and how much she loved being alive and will never let go of that.
Damien. He was probably the nicest kid in town in his day and was the mayor who cares deeply about people. He probably hated something deep down but in the end I think he really loved his life.
Noel Gruber is the most romantic boy in town who had a fantasy that he was a hooker in post-war France. He dreams of a life he can be himself and be accepted for what he wanted to be. He’s eccentric, funny, and knows how to get what he wants in his life……. He also calls Ocean a horrible succubus…
William. He’s eccentric and wants a life where he can be himself and no one else. Also… him calling Actor Mark a horrible succubus…….
Mischa Bachinski was the angriest boy in town that masked all of his love for this girl named Talia with anger and his uh…. Rapping career or something… he was truly hiding his secret online relationship with a girl named Talia that he fell in love with when he was still in Ukraine and they had planned to get married before he moved away.
Abe. Abe had somebody, actually many people he truly loved and now that they were all gone he covered that part of him up with anger and hate for something that in the long run doesn’t matter.
Ricky Potts is the most imaginative boy in town who, after an accident, was left mute and on crutches. He dreamed of a better life for himself which is one of the most awkward songs on the album so I’ll just say uh… space cats. But he’s very in-touch with everyone else in the choir especially Jane Doe and seems to have a huge heart that just wants to have fun and not be in the same place forever.
Celine. Celine truly seemed like a good person to people that she loved and cared about (like Ricky with Jane Doe) and like Ricky she wanted to escape to a better place for herself.
Karnak is the talking fortune telling machine that has orchestrated all of this. He wants to give the kids a chance at being alive again. He wants them to have a better life. But he can only bring one of them back. He’s also sassy and sometimes mean to the “contestants” lmao.
The house entity. While not as kind-hearted as Karnak it orchestrated everything that happened in the house and brought them all together like Karnak did.
I AM GOING INSANE HELP
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conscious-love · 3 years
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Why Holding On To Past Relationships Is The Worst Thing You Can Do For Yourself, Period
by Daniel Dowling via MindBodyGreen
Three years ago I was a 24-year-old failure-to-launch who lived on his mom’s couch and shared a bathroom with two teenage sisters. My friends had their own houses, degrees, and independence. And there I was, broke and depressed, totally reliant on my parents. It hadn't ever not been that way.
But in 2014 I made one small decision, which led to results I still sometimes can’t believe.
Today, I’m leading writers in a national campaign to rebrand my hometown, and I write for the best entrepreneurial and self-improvement sites in the world (mbg being my favorite; no lie). I make a great living coaching others to become the happiest and most successful versions of themselves. That’s a lot of change in just three years, from any perspective. And I can trace the transformation of my life back to one single thing: letting go of my exes—completely.
Breaking free from serial monogamy.
For most of my adult life I’d been a serial monogamist. I thought I just really loved love, but it turns out I was just really, really afraid of responsibility. So, for my personal dissatisfaction and unhappiness, self-improvement wasn’t the cure—it was a new girlfriend! And when that one didn’t work out, I'd find another. Yay for love!
Except it wasn’t love because I wasn’t becoming the best version of myself through these relationships. So after the last one ended ignominiously, I quit the love game—just not quite all the way.
I still kept in contact with my exes. And Jen—my former fiancee—was a particular crutch. We still visited each other even though we lived in different states. We kept in regular contact through texts and phone calls, especially during crises. I was still depending on her to make me happy.
Every time we talked, I renewed the connection to my former ways of thinking and behaving. It strengthened the conviction that, deep down, I could only be happy with Jen. She was my way out. If things got too tough, I could always come to her, and she could come to me. We even promised that if we weren’t married by 30, we’d get hitched. Talk about a safety net… (and, yes, also the plot of My Best Friend's Wedding).
Unfortunately, that safety net was keeping me from being the bold, successful, independent man I wanted to become. I just couldn’t seem to cut the cord on my own.
Flying without a net.
Then one day I was listening to an audio course from my favorite self-improvement mentor, Zig Ziglar. He was talking about how to right our wrongs and forgive ourselves. He advised writing apologies down and sending them to the appropriate people. But he had a special step for exes.
"When it comes to the forgiveness you want from your exes [Zig has a drawling Southern accent], I want you to follow all the steps I just gave you. But instead of sending off the letter, I want you to fold it up, light a fire, and burn the damn thing. Cuz there’s no point in renewing emotional connections with people who aren’t good for you. That’s why they're your exes! It’s time to move on from them and fully embrace your own life."
When one is slapped by truth, one’s jaw has a tendency of dropping, and the eyes have a tendency to glaze over, lost in a thousand-yard stare. That was the picture of my face. Might’ve even drooled a little.
I thought about Jen, and Em, and Katie. I thought about how important they’d been for me and how much security they’d brought me. And I knew I had to let them go for good. For good.
No more texts or calls. No more being Facebook friends. No email updates. No nothing.
I had anxiety about the decision, naturally—severing ties with my past and obliterating a huge comfort zone. But I had a future to step into. I had to do that on my own.
Dealing with the emptiness.
I missed my former girlfriends like crazy. But instead of feeling sorry for myself and longing for them, I prayed for them. I asked God for the same things I was asking for my own self-improvement journey—courage, faith, hope, positivity, inspiration, grace, and so on. I prayed for them to meet amazing and inspiring friends who could help them become their best selves. I prayed for my future wife. And I prayed that I would become the fully independent man capable of supporting her.
In all this praying, I completely changed my focus. Instead of relying on my girlfriends for faith and reassurance, I relied on God and my own ability to handle my problems. I took back the misplaced faith in my girlfriends and put it squarely in my own hands.
That’s when I finally launched.
Do you believe in life after love?
Just like Cher, I found my power only after letting go of my past relationships.
Without my exes as safety nets, it was just me. Nobody else was going to make me happy. So I did what I needed to do to make me successful—all the writing, studying, practicing, pitching, researching, and self-improvement. I actually become part of a community and made new friends. I fully embraced my own damn life.
Three months passed and I still missed my exes. But I was making money through my writing and making new connections.
Six months passed and I still missed my exes. But I’d started earning a full-time living through my writing. And I was growing more confident by the day, especially in my community.
A year passed and I still missed my exes. But I was fully independent through my passion. And I’d outgrown the anxiety and depression that had haunted me since I was a teenager—a by-product of my newfound faith in me.
It’s been three full years since I cut out my exes. I’m 100 percent over each one, but I’m human—I still miss them! Who wouldn’t? They were brilliant and beautiful women who were insanely fun to be with. I made thousands of joyful memories with each one.
Sometimes I’m reminded of them by hearing a certain song or watching a movie. But that’s just another opportunity for me to thank God for them and to pray for them. It’s another opportunity for me to be the independent and faithful man I know I can be for myself, for my wife, for my clients, and for my audience. It’s another opportunity to find security in myself and in a higher power. And through these opportunities, I’ve found the happiness and fulfillment I always wanted.
I advise all of my clients to go on a yearlong relationship fast, which most of them do. But the real growth comes when they fully let go of their exes and stop using them as crutches. It’s hard, hard, hard to do but absolutely essential if you want to grow.
Here are five tips to help you let go of your exes for good:
1. Start a self-improvement routine, complete with daily, weekly, and monthly goal setting.
Read this article as a primer.
2. Meet with someone weekly to discuss your personal growth and your journey.
This person will help keep you accountable to your goals and lifestyle choices. Can be a friend or an amazing coach.
3. Stay single for a year—totally single.
If you can’t be happy with you, you won’t be happy—truly happy—with anyone else. Love that you! Commit to being successfully single for a year. That means happy, connected in your community, fulfilled in your work, and in a state of continuous personal growth. (Your daily routines and long-term goals will be critical to this step.)
4. Surround yourself with positive, uplifting people.
Join a faith community where people strive to live out the values you identify with. This is where you’ll find the deep connections that you can grow with—and that will prevent you from leaning on your exes as crutches.
5. Pray or meditate often.
Use your emotions as mindfulness cues. When you miss someone, pray for them. When you’re lonely, pray for the courage, positivity, and fortitude to make good decisions. When you think you can’t go on—that happens to everyone—pray for what you need. This will help you grow faith in a higher power and yourself, which is an absolute must if you want to be happy alone.
And being happy alone? That’s an absolute must for loving someone unconditionally in a relationship that can last a lifetime.
Link to article on Mind Body Green
Author: Daniel Dowling
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qslovebot · 3 years
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Heroes: Spencer Reid
Request: cooould i request a spencer reid x reader where the reader and Spencer are on a car ride? it could be that they are on a case and they have to drive (maybe the jet is broken? or something idk) and it's sunset, they spill feelings and so much fluff? 'With Heroes by David Bowie'
rb: @ellyhotchner
Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader
Warnings/Includes: mentions of Spencer's gunshot wound, kissing, fluff.
Spencer Reid chuckled as he crutched toward the SUV parked in the lot. He was a little too fast on crutches for a man who had been shot in the leg. It was a little while since he'd been let back to work and he stupidly lied about being allowed to travel so now, the way for lesser trouble was to have him drive back with another agent and Hotch assigned the dreadful task to you. "Could I at least drive?"
You shook your head as you caught up, "Flex your foot, Reid." He paused, putting his foot out and flexing it. With an immediate intake of breath and wince of pain, you shook your head again. "I will drive."
"Fine," he sighed, tossing you the keys. He paused again sheepishly at his door. "W-would you mind helping me into the car?"
"Yeah, of course, I'm sorry-" you pressed the unlock button and walked to the other side of the car with haste, taking Spencer's crutches and standing still so he could use your arm to stabilize him as he climbed in.
His thin fingers lingered on your upper arm for a second and he blinked a few times before looking up at you through his hair. "Can I choose the music?" He asked it as if it was the most serious question in the world. But he knew what was coming,
"Hell no!" You bat his hands away and darted to the other side whilst Spencer tried to beat you to the radio. He was already in the car, so of course, he beat you to it, but you jumped into the driver's seat and bat his hands away again. "Damn it, Spencer. I won't sit through another four-hour drive of nothing but Simon and Garfunkel!"
"I don't want Simon and Garfunkel!" He protested, his eyes wide. You couldn't stare him down without your heart racing, so you waved your hand in dismissal, starting the car as he fidgeted with the sound system.
Pulling out of the dank, dark of the precinct parking lot, both of you had to shield your eyes from the sun. Staying inside an interrogation room all day, you two were hardly aware it was even day. You checked the car's clock- it was nearing six o'clock.
Late spring, the days were getting longer. Shielding your eyes with the visor, you pulled onto the road. Spencer clicked a button and music began to play. You looked at him, mock-anger in your eyes and hit him in the shoulder, "This is Simon and Garfunkel!"
"Be nice, I was shot!" His voice climbed in pitch. Your hand shot forward and Spencer was faster, so he caught your hand before you could even touch the radio. His hand was cold as ice and his palms were soft. Spencer wouldn't hurt you, so the most he could do would be to stop you from acting. Your heart skipped a beat and the car swerved the slightest bit. His voice was higher now, "Eyes on the road!"
He was lucky he was so gorgeous, it saved him from a lot, but you'd never tell him that. He'd probably use it to his advantage and you had never been good with romantic feelings, so it was best you treated him with... friendly hatred. There was a thin line between working well together and working too well together so you used your friendly hatred to try and hide from the team... maybe a little... well, they're all profilers- it was for peace of mind.
So you let him have his Simon and Garfunkel, but only until you made it to the highway and you moved fast enough to get to the radio.
"-Playing you the top 80s hits all day, every day," the radioman said before the song kicked in. You laughed at Spencer who looked like he just entered hell.
"We grew up in the 80s, don't tell me you don't like 80s music!" You gasped, turning your head back to the road. "Spencer..."
"Actually, studies say the music you listened to in high school is the music you're supposed to like for the rest of your life, meaning for us two, the mid to late nineties."
You nodded, then glanced over again, "But didn't you graduate high school at twelve, boy genius? That would be... 1993?" You recounted his years at school and then your own shortened experiences.
Spencer shook his head, "It's-it's the time period of a typical person's high school years. From when we were... uh- fourteen to about seventeen for us, even with accelerated minds. I listened to Simon and Garfunkel and you were... stuck in the 80s?"
"Probably," you laughed, turning up the music as you continued down the freeway. The sun continued to shine, going from soft natural light and eventually sliding into a deeper shade of orange.
It had already been an hour and a half on the road and you had your hand out the SUV window while the sweet wind blew the left edge of your hair in boundless spirals. Spencer had just finished a long, educational rant about the production of record disks, which you already knew about, but listened anyway. You loved how excited he got to tell you things, his hands flailing about, gesturing to demonstrate ideas and thoughts.
Looking over, he seemed to enjoy feeling the air on his skin and wind in his hair. So you decided to drive onto one of the side roads, surrounded by dusty hills and rising dunes for twenty minutes more, letting him relax without worrying about his head being taken off by a semi. He deserved it, after all, he risked things to come out here.
It was finally your turn to put on the radio and you caught the radioman doing his little talking blurb, this time discussing the topic of summer cottages before the song kicked in.
Heroes by David Bowie. You gasped, "Oh my god, I haven't heard this in ages!" Spencer looked over and smiled a little, ruffling his hair. You didn't notice that smile of his, you were busy going absolutely ballistic over this song that meant so much to you. The song always made you feel oddly limitless and free. You didn't regard his constant admiration for you in the moments when you weren't looking.
You had turned up the music and let your hand out the window do the dancing you couldn't in the car. This song was powerful, beautiful, and your focus was balanced between music and road, not on Spencer, who seemed to be sinking into the beauty of the song as well as the beauty of you.
He always admired your liveliness. You brought out the less analytical, fun, youthful side to him and he really did need that sometimes. Watching you drive, hair blowing, he remembered the lyrics to the song. They may have been locked up in his mind somewhere, but he knew them and watching you enjoy the music so freely, he tapped the window's edge and mumbled along.
You didn't really care about much in those moments, because when you looked over and saw Spencer knew the lyrics, something about that made your heart flutter. The music, the lighting, him. You.
The view out the window was magnificent. Red sand, a dipping ravine and you were overtop of it all. Everything about these moments continued to get better, so you decided to pull over. Just for a minute.
"What are you-" Spencer started, but looking out the window he saw just what you did. You put the car into park, but kept it on, turning up the radio and hopping out. Spencer was able to get out of the car himself and crutched over to where you stood against the SUV door.
♬ We could be heroes, just for one day ♬
Oh, it was so gorgeous you could stay here forever and not need anything else, ever. That was until you turned to Spencer, admiring how he looked on this abandoned roadway, standing in the golden light, shadows cast perfectly over his face. You smiled up at him, time seemingly slowing for all of this to happen. It was an odd notion that the world continued to move when it was just you, him, and David Bowie blasting loudly on the radio.
He was thinking the same thing as he watched the way you shut your eyes for a moment, taking it all in. You didn't want to shut your eyes in fear maybe all of this would disappear. The dream-like lighting and Spencer, looking as if he was sculpted by the most talented artists, just seemed too perfect to really exist there with you.
But you needed to pull it together just for a moment, just to make it seem like you were still there with him, because if you stared too long, maybe you would accidentally fall into said dream.
"Not many views like these in Quantico," you turned to face him and he looked down at you before turning to face you as well. His hands were on his crutches but they looked like they begged to be in his pockets so he could rock on his heels. "It's so beautiful."
"You'r-" he coughed and cleared his throat, brows furrowing as his head turned back to off the ravine. Was he about to- no, you were kidding yourself? There was no way, it was the Bowie. "It is beautiful. E-especially with the lighting."
You nodded, "Mhm. I didn't know you knew any Bowie."
"It was actually Bowie's 12th studio album, released on October 14th, 1977, the only album in the Berlin Trilogy that was actually recorded in Berlin. I... read and listened." He scrunched his nose, probably afraid you wouldn't like him ranting, but you always listened.
You cringed, "I may have already known that."
"Oh, sorr-" he cut himself off when you smiled at him. There was something about this song that made him want to tell you everything he'd ever thought about you from the moment you'd met. Something about the lighting that made you so much more enticing and entirely beautiful. Of course, he already thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, but right now, you were glowing.
And you were thinking the exact same thing. He was standing less than two feet from you, looking down at you. Tall, beautiful, glowing. He was silent, as were you, but Bowie sang loudly to cover the sound of both of your beating hearts. Your smile faded, but it showed in your eyes.
Spencer looked at his feet while the song took over and he tucked your hair behind your ear without hesitating. You bit the inside of your cheek as he reverted back to where he stood, his straight-lipped smile kind and genuine. His eyelashes fluttered from your eyes to your lips and he was standing there. The feelings were unspoken, but all the same, mutually understood.
So you went to kiss him. It was all you could do and it was all he was wanting, but there was a shooting pain that shot up his leg like fire as he took the step forward, pulled by your hand on his shirt.
"Shit! Ow- my... hm... my leg-" He hissed in pain and you immediately let go. So much for that buildup. You would have kicked yourself mentally if it didn't already look like Spencer had been kicked by ten muscular men on leg day.
You covered your mouth with one hand and gripped his elbow with the other, "Spencer, I am so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking- all of it completely slipped my mind and I am... God, I'm so sorry, can I help?" You launched into random rambling, your heart racing.
Spencer reached up to your shoulder for stability and his head bowed to rest on your other shoulder for a half-second. You let him stabilize himself because he was in pain, but that wasn't his intent. Not a tick more later, his hand moved an inch up higher on your shoulder, then moved to the place between neck and shoulder. His hand continued travelling upward until it was on your cheek.
Taking you much by surprise, as you thought you caused him more pain than he was really in, he pressed his lips to yours as the last chorus hit. He finished what you had failed to properly start and there was no longer any more shame in that mess. His right crutch clattered to the ground and he didn't seem to care at all. His hands held your face firmly as your hand went right back to clutching his shirt, keeping him close as you kissed him back with the same passion.
Golden light, David Bowie, a gorgeous view, an abandoned road, and each other. You may have pinched yourself to check if maybe this was a dream, but it wasn't. Spencer wouldn't stop laughing when the kiss ended- that breathy, happy laugh you always admired. You weren't sure why until he held out his wrist to show you that he had pinched himself as well and you both burst out laughing a little harder than you should have. If this was how the world ended, you would end it in the best possible way, entirely content. But this was far from the end of anything, in fact, it was only the beginning of a whole lot of BAU teasing once they got a hold of the happenings of this road trip.
You gave Spencer a knowing look, scrunching your nose and he was thinking the same thing again.
"Maybe we'll lie to them for a bit?" You suggested, cringing again with a slight smile.
He nodded comprehensively, fighting a returning smile. "Keep this as far from Derek Morgan's hands as possible." He tucked your hair behind your ear again and finally grinned at you before picking up his crutch and letting you help him back into the SUV.
He got to the radio before you did and you gasped in near disbelief. "Spencer, no Simon and Garfunkel!"
Request Here
Tags: @mercy-burning, @laurakirsten0502, @softhairedhotch
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stellartales · 3 years
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Xiao | Call My Name — 02
Chapter 02  — Shadow in the Wind
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ©justgenshin 
DO NOT REPOST,  TRANSLATE OR USE ANY PARTS OF MY FICS IN ANY FORMS AND CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.
My fics are kept within Tumblr (@savagetrickster​ @justgenshin​ — I am both.) and ao3 but if you do see my works elsewhere apart from these two platforms, please notify me.
Disclaimer: It’s pretty obvious from what you have read in 01 but just for clarification’s sake, this story will not be following the game script. But I will draw ideas and inspirations from there.
Words: 1,734
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Night fell hours ago. The moon was hung in full view for all to admire but the feeble light it emitted could barely be seen among the drifting wispy clouds. 
The only thing that was keeping the room illuminated was the tender golden glow of the fire sitting in the two standing lamps. 
Like every night ever since Wangshu Inn received her, a figure, right when no one was around, once again emerged from the shadows. 
His piercing gaze —  the only thing he allowed himself to touch her with — was contradictingly gentle as he accessed her pale face and listened to her breathing.
The tension on his forehead relaxed in what seemed to be... relief, at the absence of the harsh, shallow breaths he heard her fight to take when he found her.
He didn’t like how his steady hands shook then, with a strange…uneasiness, almost like fear. 
“Paimon will stay with her, thanks lady boss!”
Voices outside of the door snapped his focus back. 
“Simply ‘Boss’ will do, Paimon.”
His piercing eyes flickered back down to her and widened almost instantly to the sight of his outstretched hand, which somehow between his absent thoughts had ended up merely inches away from her face. 
Flinching his hand away as if he was scalded, the figure in the room retreated from the bed and vanished into the darkness like the wind.
The moon was hung in full view for all to see but the feeble light it emitted could barely be seen among the drifting wispy clouds. 
The only thing that was keeping the room illuminated was the tender golden glow of the fire sitting in the two standing lamps. 
Just like how it was before, the room was left empty once more. As if he was never there in the first place.
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Quiet movements behind her eyelids reciprocated to the gentle touch of a light breeze curling against her cheeks like doting caresses. 
The sense of weightlessness was beginning to lift from her as dainty songs of singing birds and the soft creaks of wood started growing into her consciousness. 
She could hear careful footsteps as well and felt more than saw a presence hovering near her, its warmth brushing against her skin until something damp was placed between her brows.
Her forehead clenched in a frown against the new sensation sitting on her face. Her fingers curled into something cushy and velvety as a weak groan left her lips. 
Light beyond her eyelids beckoned her to open her eyes and so she did, squinting against the intruding brightness until she could finally adjust to the light.
Her vision focused into clarity and was greeted by a familiar stranger. 
“You are...?” She blinked in puzzlement as she racked her brain for an answer. 
Confusion marred a frown between her brows at the Inn’s boss who was standing over her with a mild smile — the fog in her groggy mind made it hard to answer the vague sense of recognition nagging her.
“Verr Goldet. Boss of Wangshu Inn.” The lady filled in the blanks helpfully, “Nice to have you back with us, Lumine.”
Wangshu Inn? 
She tried to wrap her fuddled head around the new information as a memory of her running away from Dark Hilichurls with Paimon flashed past.
“Wait, but I was…” She was pretty sure she was a goner then. “How did—”
“You were out for so long, Lumine!” A floating little figure flew right up to her face before Verr Goldet could finish.
Lumine winced instantly to the sharp rise in volume. 
“Shhh…You-You’re so loud.” She felt her head throb.
Paimon let out a small gasp and her face fell with a sheepish look. 
“Oops sorry, Paimon is just excited ‘cause Paimon has been so worried...!”
“Sorry for worrying you, Paimon.” An apologetic smile sat weakly on her face. “But how long have I been sleeping?”
“And…” Her gaze shifted back to Verr Goldet, face scrunched in confusion “...how did I end up here?”
“Pretty long,” The lady boss merely nodded, “It’s been three days ever since Xiao-sama found and brought you to me.”
Xiao?
Her eyes widened. 
Then that voice she heard...
The thirst to answer all the questions in her head spurned her to sit up in one quick move, only to be greeted by a sharp jolt of pain in her leg. “—ah!” 
The giddiness swimming in her head made her see stars. 
“Easy there, Lumine,” Verr Goldet’s voice matched the gentle backrubs the hand on her back made. “Afterall, you just overcame quite an ordeal.”
“An ordeal?” She held her head. “What happened to me?”
“You were down with high fevers due to the poison from the thorns of a Yingxuē and thankfully, that toxin could be easily flushed out through perspiration.” 
“Ying…” The queasiness in her throat subsided. “...xuē?” 
Then it dawned on her. 
Oh right, it had totally slipped from her that her leg got injured all because of that bush and its stray branch. 
And that was when she heard him.
“But Xiao…” 
She still found it hard to believe — wasn’t that voice just a hallucination caused by the poison flooding her blood?
“Was he really there?”
Paimon nodded aggressively. “He was, he was!” 
There was a spark in her eyes, “Right after you fainted, he appeared out of nowhere, striking down from the sky like lightning and finished off the Hilichurls in one sweep of his polearm!”
There was admiration she’d never seen in Paimon for Xiao since she did not have a good impression of the adeptus previously. 
“...He was so fast Paimon could barely catch what happened!”
A chuckle turned her head back to the lady boss.
“That’s Xiao-sama for you,” Verr Goldet beamed, “He is afterall our mighty Guardian Yaksha; monsters are measly flies to the power of an adeptus.”
Lumine remained silent for a while. 
Strong gratitude resonated in her heart along with a nearly tangible ache of curiosity and wonder for the adeptus.
“Is he here?” 
A smile crept across Verr Goldet’s face. 
“If you know where to look.”
— as she made her way out the door, behind the opened door was a brilliant view of the sky.
“But…” A rush of wind blew through the door, “...whether or not you would find Xiao-sama, it will be all up to him.”
The lady boss's smile turned mysterious as she looked back at them.
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The setting sun on the horizon waned in the gathering darkness of the approaching night. 
Guests residing in Wangshu Inn were mostly back from errands they had to run and settling down in the eateries the Inn had to offer. 
Of course, Paimon would never give food a miss especially when Verr Goldet just invited her for a second round of dinner. Somehow during the days when she laid in the room on the highest floor battling the poison in her body, the lady boss had grown familiar with Paimon’s huge appetite.
Verr Goldet offered her a second dinner as well but Lumine had other ideas. 
She had her fill in the room she woke up in and ordered a certain dish she insisted on paying, not wanting to be a freeloader but to no avail because— 
“Xiao-sama trusted us to take care of you so it would be rude not to honor his trust.”
—the lady boss insisted after leaving behind a tray of her dinner.
The simple white garb on her was loosely comfortable to move in, but the winding staircase up to the upper balcony proved to be a challenge when she had to limp on one leg with a crutch tucked under an armpit while holding onto a takeaway lunchbox.
It had been what felt like five minutes ever since she began climbing the stairs. The dressed wound on her leg throbbed every step she took; the struggle to move were evident in her harsh raspy breaths and the way the thin coat of sweat stuck her fringe to her forehead. 
Her other hand was clenched tight on the banister, knuckles white with effort.
And when she finally reached the top, she couldn’t help letting out a loud sigh of relief. 
Lumine squinted her eyes against a burst of wind from the gaping door as she hobbled out into the open. 
Her hair was blown back in the rushing wind and she could not hold back a shiver to the cool tickles of the ocean breeze.
“...Xiao?” She called out gingerly. 
There was nothing but the wind and the sweeps of the waves below. 
“It’s me, Lumine!” 
Her eyes wandered to the dark sky above her as she continued to limp forward. 
Her voice calling out to him kept scattering in the wind no matter how many times she tried or how loud she threw her voice into the wind.
Looking lost with sad eyes at the vast sky and the seemingly huge moon above, her voice grew weaker until there was no more.
Maybe this was how it is.  
Perhaps to him...
The hopeful glint in her gaze dimmed as she lowered her gaze to a cruel thought in her head.
...she was nothing but just a mere mortal. Simply an annoyance he had to grudgingly protect. 
— to make things worse, she didn’t even belong to this world.
Even so... 
Her shoulders squared; her resolve to thank him refused to let her give up. 
...just one last time. 
Then she would stop — this bitter promise sank her heart.
“Please Xiao," Lumine raised her gaze again,  "I know you’re out here. I’m sorry I’m back here again.” 
She hobbled forward.
“I know you told me to leave you alone but I just—thunk” She felt the leg of the crutch supporting her hit an uneven portion of the wooden floor beneath her feet.
Her crutch cluttered to the ground before she could adjust her grip.
A sharp gasp surged through her throat as she staggered forward.
The ground was rushing fast toward her, the box in her hand was slipping from her hand.
Horror sept into her widening eyes.
Oh no oh no, the almond tofu is going to—
Then as if materializing out of thin air, a firm hold appeared around her waist and tugged her up in one swift move against a warm, breathing wall that could talk—
“What are you doing?”
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—  published on 17.02.2021
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all1e23 · 4 years
Text
Between the Stars [Pt.10]
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Pairings:  Bucky x  Reader
Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death. **Smut.** 18+ please and thanks. 
A/N:  This chapter has my whole Goddamn heart. I wasn’t planning on posting. I am just going to see how this goes y’all. As always  my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky​​​​​​ made sure this wasn’t trash and I adore her. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.
***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****
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The last month has been the hardest thirty days since Steve died and the heartache you were feeling had nothing to do with that loss.
Things between you and Bucky have been awkward since his late night confession. You didn’t know how to feel about any of this. Bucky admitting he loved you when you were kids was not something you ever saw as a possibility. Or maybe you convinced yourself it wasn’t one. Looking back now, there were moments that it was obvious. Right there in your face, shining brighter than the sun, and you chose to ignore it. Even after you married Steve, there were times you caught Bucky staring in such a way it stole your breath; he never tried to hide it, or at least he wasn’t great at hiding it. He became angry with you every time you attempted to set him up with someone, and then there was the night out, everyone had been drinking and things were said that shouldn’t have been. The jealousy you felt at the thought of Bucky finding another girl pretty enough to take her home still stings. You hadn’t realized it was jealousy until now, but it was. The anger in Bucky’s eyes that same night when he told you not everyone could be as amazing as your husband — he couldn’t be Steve. 
You’ve never wanted Bucky to be Steve. Now you were wondering if he even knew that?
While the truth made everything a lot clearer, that didn’t mean that any of it made sense. If anything, things between you only became more complicated now that you knew his secrets. Bucky felt the divide as much if not more than you, and began spending more time away from the house. It started with taking his bike out for a drive that would last several hours at a time. He would come home long after you had fallen asleep and you suspected it was so he wouldn’t have to talk about all the things that needed to be said. You didn’t want to talk. You just wanted to lay with him. 
Things quickly spun out from there.
More and more, his days were spent with Sam or visiting his mom. What could you say? Please stay here with me instead of visiting your mother and sister? It wasn’t like when he first came home. Not that you were anywhere close to being healed or normal or whatever everyone around you expected you to be, but you could get up and live. You didn’t need him to be the crutch that kept you breathing. You could breathe all on your own. So, you let him go without a word, hoping things would go back to normal. Or, a new normal? You didn’t want to forget everything that was shared or pretend you weren’t feeling the way you’ve been feeling these last few months. You did want Bucky; you wanted him back home with you. You know how selfish it made you, and you didn’t care. 
That selfishness quickly turned into desperation. You were desperate to have him back, you tried over and over to make plans. Resorting to scheduling time with your best friend, the man who lived in your house just to get some time alone with him, but it was next to impossible. There have been more canceled plans than plans followed through the last three weeks. Bucky was avoiding you. There was no point in sugar-coating it to spare your feelings. Most nights he spent away from you were spent with Sam, and you knew that. Still, it hurt to know he simply didn’t want to be around you. When Bucky finally makes his way home, he always smells like bourbon. Those evenings you spend alone, but on the rare occasions he does come back in time to sleep with you, he sleeps facing you so you could rest your forehead against his chest or bicep. 
Even those moments were few and far between lately thanks to an incident two weeks ago. Bucky stumbled into bed thinking you were asleep, and in his tipsy state, he whispered some things that will forever be etched into your memories.
“I should have chased after you—that night. I should have made sure you knew I loved you,” you could hear the disgust in his voice, and you wanted to sit up and tell him you were awake. You shouldn’t be listening to this when he never meant for you to know these secrets. “I should have told Dot to go find someone else because I belonged to you. Had since we met. Wouldn't have changed much, though. Once Steve kissed you, I could see it, it was like you woke up or somethin’. I’ve never seen you smile at anyone like that. Let alone at me.” 
It was silent after that, and you thought he had fallen asleep, but then you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head, and he whispered into the dark, “Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to tell you when you’re awake.” 
He didn’t know how much you knew, but it was clear just saying the words out loud pushed you further away. You hated this and wished you could take it back. You wished you never brought up that night and kept your childish notions to yourself. If only you could take it all back, change the way you felt then maybe things would be okay again. 
The house was quiet when you snuck in the back door. You told Bucky this morning you would be gone all night, out with Wanda for a girl’s night so that he could have the house all to himself. That part was genuine. You had gone out, but the longer you were out, and the more time you spent away from Bucky, the more you wanted to be with him. You ended up calling it an early evening and waited in the dark until you saw Bucky head out onto the back porch with a small glass in his hand. 
He hasn’t wanted to see you lately, anyway. 
Steve’s hidden stash of whiskey was on the counter, and your heart hurt at the sight. You catch sight of Bucky leaning on the back porch, red dot glowing between his lips and three fingers of amber liquid floating in his glass. You quickly scurried upstairs and crept into your room, opening the door just enough to slip in because the squeak in the hinge will give you away. You heard the glass doors off the kitchen shut and a glass clinking against another, you closed your eyes and forced yourself to stay put and get ready for bed. There was nothing you could do to help him when he didn't want to see you. 
Bucky trudged up the stairs, carrying his bruised and beaten heart behind him. The soft yellow light spilling into the hallway from your bedroom had him stopping. Your door cracked several inches. It wasn’t like that before. He slowly moved towards the open door enough to spot you standing in front of the long dresser on the far side of your bed by the bay window. You were slowly undoing the buttons of your shirt after shimming out of your jeans, and Bucky couldn’t move even though he knew he shouldn’t be watching you like this. You didn’t need to hear the tiny exhale he let out to know he was standing there. You could feel him. Standing there nearly naked with your grey flannel (Bucky’s shirt technically) unbuttoned and hanging open leaving your black lace bra and black cotton boyshorts on display, you should feel embarrassed or self- conscious. You didn’t. You glanced up from the floor, locking eyes with him. Neither of you says a word. Bucky slowly stepped one foot into your room, making sure it was okay before moving any further. When you make no move to throw him out or curse him for even considering this to be okay, he slowly moves across the wood floor with careful steps on bare feet. 
His eyes fell to the black lace taking you in as if it’s the first time he’s truly seeing you. Bucky looked back up and met your eyes as he slowly reached out, running a thumb down the soft, thin material covering your breast. You inched forward, settling your hands on his ribs, clutching the worn navy-colored fabric of his shirt between your fingers. Bucky’s head tilted his head just enough so he could run his nose down yours, and he smiled when you tilted your chin towards him. His hands came to rest on the sides of your face, and he let his lips ghost over your skin. They hovered over your cheeks, the corners of your mouth, but never touched your lips. When your mouth fell open, lips barely parting he took his chance and tentatively pressed his lips against yours, softly letting them linger there for the longest three seconds of your life. Bucky scanned your face looking for any sign of regret the moment he pulled back, and when he found none, his lips claimed yours again this time without hesitation or uncertainty. 
The kiss was gentle despite the desperate want behind it and not at all what you thought kissing Bucky would be like. He was in no rush for this to be over. His lips moved over yours, slow and delicately. He tasted like whiskey from the bottle you knew was still resting on the counter downstairs, and there was a faint smell of cigarettes lingering on his shirt. He always smoked when he was distressed and hurting, and you hated it. With the way he was gently parting your lips with his own, smoking was the last thing on your mind. You honestly didn’t know what you expected but, kissing him like this made you dizzy, and when your knees went weak from the high, Bucky kept you from falling.
His right hand fell to your back, pressing firmly into your skin as he walked you backward until you bumped into the dresser behind you, giving your shaking legs support. The lamp that sits atop the old wooden chest wobbled and fell back into the curtain, dulling the soft yellow light, leaving a more delicate peach hue to fill the room. It stayed where it fell. Neither of you daring to let go of the other. Bucky hands have yet to leave your skin, much like his lips and you wanted it to stay that way. You didn’t have a lot of experience kissing, but it’s never felt like this. It’s never reached inside and grabbed a piece of you, stealing your breath and maybe a bit of your soul. 
A sweet sigh led to several short soft kisses that allowed you to catch your breath. With closed eyes, Bucky pressed one last honeyed kiss to your lips, and his forehead fell onto yours. You were trembling but not in the way you thought you would be when you found yourself here again. Bucky looked apprehensive when his eyes opened, the hand on your back pressed further into your skin, and he took a deep breath. 
“We can blame it on the whiskey,” Bucky whispered, his breath warming your swollen lips. 
That would be the easy thing to do. Blame all of this on the alcohol; tonight and the bonfire. You could end whatever this was before it became messier. Tell Bucky to leave, sleep in your bed for once, and wake up in the morning, pretending that Bucky didn’t just steal your heart with a simple kiss. You could do all that, and Bucky would act as if it never happened. There would be no guilt or shame he forced on you for wanting to take it all back. He would still love you the way he always has. That was the right thing to do, and that’s what you should tell him. 
“I haven’t had any,” you whispered back instead. 
Bucky gave you a sad smile and shrugged his shoulder. "We could still blame it on the whiskey." 
There was the out if you wanted to take it. You weren’t sure if it was an out for you or him. It was hanging there in the air regardless. If only things were as simple as walking away and forgetting. You’ve been straddling the two lives, two versions of you for long enough, and you were so tired of faking it. 
“I don’t want to be sad anymore, Bucky. I’m tired of being sad, and I’m so tired of pretending.” 
“Pretending?” Bucky questioned. You could hear his heartbeat, you could swear it. It was hard and fast, pounding with uncertainty against his chest. 
“What part of you has been pretending?” 
It’s terrifying how one simple question can change everything. 
“The only part of me that’s real is one tied to you.” 
You were playing with fire, but you’ve always had a way of finding trouble, and Bucky’s always been fond of the kind of trouble you were made of.
Bucky didn’t know what to say to that so he let his hands say all the things he couldn’t. They brushed gingerly down your sides, lightly running down to the top of your thighs and playing along the edge of the black cotton covering you. You wanted to memorize the way his fingertips felt on your skin in case you never again get the chance to feel them. His hands were rough in the right places and soft where they needed to be. The roughened calloused thumb and forefinger and that thin line running down his middle finger through his right palm to his wrist -- an incident with a knife while they were deployed a few years ago. 
He reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head, and your hands immediately found his skin trailing soft fingers over the various scars. New ones you’ve never seen and some old ones that made your skin crawl from the haunting memory. The scarred skin on his left shoulder left you with that queasy feeling. You almost lost him that time. They nearly took his arm, and you could still hear Steve’s voice in your ear, desperate and tear-filled coming down a scratchy satellite phone to tell you that Bucky may not be coming home. 
Your lips brush over the scar from the bullet that ripped through his shoulder nearly taking him from you and Bucky’s breath hitched at the contact. You wished you could take that pain for him. You know how much it still bothers him, especially when it’s cold, and there are nightmares tied to the scars that won’t leave him alone. If you could, you would take those, too. You slowly pull back to find him watching you intently. There’s a long pause from you both. Did he need the assurance that you both wanted this, and it wasn’t a mistake? Did you? His breath heavy, the desperate want between you making the air thick and hard to breathe. The silence in the room was overwhelming, and it was the confirmation you both needed. 
Bucky’s left hand came up to grip your hair, and he pulled you forward with a gentle demand, swiftly claiming your lips. Rough fingers push the sleeve of his flannel from your shoulders enough that it fell onto the floor on its accord. There’s a kiss to each shoulder as he nudges the straps of your bra off your shoulders, unhooking it with one hand and letting it join the pile at your feet. You briefly wonder how many times and with how many other women he's done this. How many of his one-night stands has he touched like this? The thought was quickly extinguished when you felt his lips gently land on the tip of your nose. He bumped your noses together, wearing a small smile when he kisses the corner of your mouth and presses a sweeter, softer kiss to your lips. 
He’s never done this before. He was making sure you know it’s never been this way with anyone. He's never held anyone the way he's holding you now, nor does he want to. 
Bucky urged you back towards the side of your bed, stopping right before the mattress could brush the back of your legs. He hesitated, glancing from the bed back to you. It was a question. Did you want to do this here? Because he would understand if you didn’t. There wasn’t much of a question in your mind despite his worry. Your fingers land on his belt, slowly undoing it and pulling it from the loops. It was okay to want this, and it was okay to want this here. Bucky wasn’t a dirty secret or something shameful you had to keep hidden. 
There was nothing shameful or dirty about what you felt for Bucky.  
Kicking his jeans to the side, Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you, he grasped behind your knees and pulled your legs out from under you dropping you back onto the bed. You squealed softly and Bucky’s deep chuckle followed, making you shiver. With thumbs hooked in the waist of your panties, he slowly tugged them down, kissing each ankle as your foot slipped free. The room felt hot. Maybe it was the fan spinning on low or the heat of Bucky’s shoulders under your legs. It could be how he was staring up at you with his eyes darker than you’ve ever seen and his hands sliding up to cup your ass, lifting your hips to meet his mouth. 
A lecherous moan bounced off the walls and Bucky hummed against you. It didn’t take much. The first feel of his tongue and your legs were quivering around his ears. The intention was to taste you, not tease you until you were begging for release. It was easy to tell with the way he devoured you from the moment his lips were on you. He wanted to savor the sweet taste on his lips. You simply couldn’t stop your pleas for more. You couldn’t fight it. The burn from his beard on your thighs and the strokes of his tongue had you squirming. He didn’t relent until you were writhing and coming undone under him.
Bucky stood between your legs, panting, and still wearing the evidence of your orgasm glistening on his lips. You couldn’t take it another second. Leaning up onto your elbows you tangled the chain from tags around your hand, pulling him to you. The kiss is wet and frantic. Not like before. You could taste yourself on his tongue and it only spurred you on. Your hands were steady, rushed but steady, as you tugged his boxers down. Bucky’s hand lands on top of yours, slowing your movements. He needed this slow. You both did. There was a breathy, please that fell from someone’s lips. Neither of you are sure whose. 
With a gentle push to his chest, you guide him to sit back against the headboard. His necklace fell back to his chest, gripping his biceps with both hands to steady yourself as you straddle his waist, and Bucky’s hands came up swiftly, gripping your hips and halting you from sinking down on him. His eyes frantically roam your skin, his thoughts were racing and you could hear every one of them as if they were your own. He’s searching for the truth in all this. Is this all something he imagined? If he takes the chance will you fall with him or is he on his own? It’s the same thought making your legs tremble. You pressed your forehead against his and took a deep breath.  
“It’s okay,” you whispered. “You can fall, Bucky. I'm right here with you.”  
Something about your words made the tension he was holding dissipate and left him with an easy smile. His grip on your hips slowly loosened, the shake in his hands steadied as you pressed a kiss to his lips and you sank down on him. His head tilted back against the headboard and his mouth fell open at the feel of you clenching around him. You didn’t move for a moment, giving you both a minute to adjust. Allowing your head a chance to catch up to your heart. The hand on your waist slid around your backside, urging you to move with a gentle tap. Fingertips wandered every inch of your skin, exploring every inch of you as he watched you breathless and rocking against him. 
His palm comes to rest over your heart, closing his eyes as your heart thumped against his palm letting him know this was real. You were here with him, and this was no dream. 
It was quiet save for the creek of the headboard, your heavy breaths, and Bucky’s soft, guttural moans he couldn’t stop. You came apart first. The sight of your mouth hanging open, gasping for breath, and quivering in his arms pushed Bucky over the edge. He came clutching your thighs and whispering your name. It was a pretty sight.  
Your bottom lip was still trembling long past the last wave when you asked if he felt the same thing you did. 
“Did you fall, too?” 
Bucky smiled at your question and cupped your face in his hands, kissing you sweet and sure between heavy breaths. 
“Yeah, Trouble. ‘Bout fifteen years ago.” 
You rest your forehead against his jaw and press a kiss to his neck—Bucky’s lips land on your shoulder, his beard tickling you enough to make you wriggle. Bucky grinned, wrapped an arm around your waist, and slipped down low enough to cover you with the sheet. There was a brief worry that you were cold, but you simply burrowed further into his chest, assured him you hadn’t felt this warm in a long time. You would both need to leave this bed and get cleaned up at some point, but for a few minutes longer, you could stay right where you were. 
Bucky had every intention of soaking in this moment that was never supposed to be. 
A conversation needed to be had. There would need to be explanations and assurances. None of this was planned. You hadn’t meant to fall for Bucky. He loved you in a way you didn’t fully understand. You wanted to though, if he was willing to show you. You wanted to let him love you. None of what you were feeling was intended, and it was never meant to be a replacement for what you had. He was different. It was something new—a new kind of old you never wanted to lose. 
New was nice, it turned out. 
Previous // Next 
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pogueshomecoming · 4 years
Text
like to be you - jj maybank x reader
requested? nope
description: based on the song by shawn mendes and julia michaels, kook!reader and jj get in a fight about his dad and it reiterates that their lives are very different
masterlist, taglist, and request links are in my bio :)
warnings: mentions of abuse, descriptions of cuts and bruises, angst, arguments
word count: 2.5k
++
The chateau's door opens with a creak, and your attention is pulled away from the conversation Pope and John B are having. JJ stumbles in, barely able to walk. You're on your feet in an instant.
"JJ?" John B follows after you, Pope trailing behind him. JJ makes it four more steps before he collapses to the ground, whimpering in pain. His hair falls out of his face to reveals his bloody and bruised face.
You fall to your knees right next to him, scooting closer so his head can rest in your lap. He groans and tries to curl into himself when you lift his shirt to see if he's bleeding anywhere else. "JJ, what the hell? Do we need to go to the hospital?"
Concern fills your voice, but JJ shakes his head. "I need a shower. I'll be fine tomorrow."
JJ goes to sit up, and you have to keep your hands pressed to his back as a guide. There's no way he'd be able to stand in the shower alone.
"Was this your dad again?" Pope crouches in front of the blonde boy, taking in the bruises on his shins that looked way too similar to a boot's imprint.
"Yeah." His voice is weak, strained from using his energy, and probably screaming at his father. Your blood boils. At what point will JJ stop going home? What would it take?
"I'll help you into the shower." You mumble, trying not to show your anger because it's not JJ you're mad at. JJ tries to smile but ends up wincing, and the boys help him to his feet. John B and Pope help your boyfriend into the bathroom while you grab fresh towels from the bag of laundry you brought over this morning.
He's sitting on the toilet lid by himself when you enter the bathroom, his shirt already on the floor. You can see two more cuts on each side of his ribcage in addition to the busted lip and eyebrow. The bruise on his hip is the worst. Usually, his blood has dried by the time he gets here, but it looks like he's reopened the wounds.
"God, JJ. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts." You shut the door behind you and quickly turn on the shower. It's not long before steam starts to fill the room.
"Are you going to get in with me?" JJ's voice is soft as he undresses his lower half.
"If that's what you want." He nods, and you start to undress, too, letting him use you as a crutch once you're both ready to get in.
The silence between you two isn't uncommon. JJ knows there's not much for you to say when he's like this because he knows you hate it. You hate seeing him hurt.
You use a washcloth to scrub around the cuts gently while he watches the water turn red and swirl around the drain. One of them could need stitches, but you know he won't listen. JJ uses sleep as a cure-all.
He leans against you when you've finished cleaning his wounds, letting his forehead press into the crook of your neck. His fingers are tracing patterns in your back.
"Don't you think it's time to get out of there, J? You could move in here permanently." Your voice is quiet, and the sounds of the shower would've drowned it out if JJ wasn't skin to skin with you.
"What do you mean?" JJ pulls back, so now his hands are on your elbows.
You sigh, not sure if this would be a touchy subject in JJ's mind. "Like... this happens every time you go home, so you could not go home anymore? I don't like seeing you hurt for no reason."
"Y/N, I avoid my father as much as possible already. It sounds a lot like you're telling me it's my fault if I keep going back there." JJ furrows his brow and shakes his head, indicating that he's bothered by your words.
"No, no, of course it isn't your fault. I know you already avoid him. I just thought that maybe it's time to move away from that situation and separate yourself."
JJ is quiet, and you look at your feet, knowing you've upset him, and it's too late to take it back.
"I'm here enough. John B isn't responsible for me. It's fine, Y/N. I'll only go when he's not there from now on." JJ squeezes your arms, trying to be reassuring, but you've still got that pit in your stomach, and you've never been good at keeping your mouth shut.
"What are you talking about? John B would love for you to stay here, even more so if it meant you were staying out of danger. My family has a guest house. If you're worried about bothering JB, I can-"
"I'm a Pogue, Y/N, not a Kook. Your parents wouldn't let me stay, and I don't want to. That's not how this works. I'm not taking a handout. We've talked about it before. Not everyone wants what the Kooks have, alright? Can we drop it?" His voice rises, having more of a bite as his anger grows, and he lets go of you.
"Hey, this is not about me being a Kook. I hate when you throw that in my face, and you know it. This is about you always going back there because you think you deserve what he does to you!" The words hang in the air after you've spoken them. The only sound between the two of you is the water running. You're sure that your friends heard the argument through the paper-thin walls.
JJ visibly falters. His shoulders slump, and he starts to fiddle with his hands as he turns his back to you. After a moment, his body begins to shake as he holds back tears. You're not sure if there's anything you can say to make it better.
"Wait, J, I-" You stop talking when he turns around abruptly.
"I can't, okay? I can't leave him there. He thinks the groceries magically appear in the fridge. He thinks that he's getting paid leave from work. I work my ass off to provide for him. What happens when I stop? He'd fucking die, and then it's my fault. After everything he's done to me, I hate him. I fucking hate him, but I can't leave him."
JJ doesn't wait for a response. Instead, he gets out of the shower. You're shocked. He's never walked away from an argument. Sure, you've fought before, but it never ends with one of you leaving.
You wait until you hear the bathroom door shut to turn the water off, and then you take your time drying off. There were no clothes for you to change into, so you make sure your towel is tucked tightly before you exit the bathroom.
John B, Pope, and Kie are sitting on the couch. Kie must've arrived in the last few minutes, but the looks on their faces confirm that they heard everything. They try to look away once they realize you're looking at them, but it's too late.
"Goodnight, guys." You say weakly, feeling like you're going to cry any second now. It feels stupid to cry. JJ is the one who's hurt, but you don't want that for him anymore.
In response, they all mumble goodnight, and you turn on your heel to enter the guest room.
JJ is already in bed, the covers are pulled to his waist, and he's facing away from the door. The bandages and alcohol pads and trash that comes with that is on the dresser, so you know he's already done what you usually do for him.
Both of you are silent as you move around the room to get dressed. With each step closer, you start to dread getting into bed. When you have nothing else left, you ease in as gently as possible after turning off the light.
You didn't imagine the bed to feel so cold, and it triggers the tears you'd been holding back for JJ's sake. If he notices, he doesn't do or say anything. You lay on your back and look at the ceiling, letting your tears fall past your ears and into your hair.
The relationship you have with your father is hugely different than JJ's with his. You've never been scared to go home, you've never flinched from someone's touch, and you've never had to yearn for a parent's love and affection. The two of you live very different lives.
"I don't want to go to bed like this," JJ says softly. You hear the motion of the blankets before you feel the warmth of his hand enclosing your wrist.
"I'm sorry, J. I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm not that one who got hurt. I'm so-"
"Tired. We're both tired. I'll never judge you for crying. There's nothing left to say. Let's call a truce."
It wasn't an outright acceptance of your apology, but it was close. There were still more things you needed to say, but JJ is right. You're both tired, and it's time to go to sleep. For now, you'll stay in this weird in-between spot where you don't know if he's still upset or not.
"Yeah, sounds good." You choke out, managing so sound somewhat natural.
JJ doesn't retract his hand, but he doesn't move any closer, leaving you to fall asleep grasping onto the little warmth you're getting from him.
+
You wake up before JJ. Somehow your internal alarm clock is always set for earlier in the morning when your anxiety is high. He's snoring softly next to you, the bruises on his face already looking better.
JJ rolls from his side to his back, the covers falling off of him to reveal that he's almost bled through his bandages. You scoot out of bed as quietly as you can.
After leaving the room to brush your teeth, you come back with a damp washcloth and gather the medical supplies from the dresser. You start to tend to JJ's wounds while trying not to wake him up. What is he going to say when he wakes up? Is he still going to be upset with you?
It was naive of you to think your anxiety would go away overnight, but you're not sure you want to have another conversation about it. JJ stirs before you're ready, and his pretty blue eyes look at you curiously.
He said there wasn't anything left to say last night, but there was and still is. However, when you make eye contact, all of it goes out the window. You blank.
"Thanks for cleaning that up, baby." JJ smiles sweetly. You're head starts spinning with possibilities. Is he going to act as if nothing happened? Will he throw it in your face randomly to make you feel worse about it? Nothing that JJ has ever done previously would lead you to believe he'd do that, but it's where your mind takes you.
"Do you want to go to the beach?" That always cheers both of you up, but you can't tell if you're offering for him or yourself.
"Sure, sweetheart. It's too cold to swim, but I bet our spot will be open."
There was a specific tree on the beach that you and JJ liked to lay under sometimes. It had the perfect amount of shade and sun because you got cold too quickly, and JJ the opposite. Out of all of the memories you have, those are the fondest.
By the time you get to the beach, JJ still seems as normal as ever. You hadn't expected him to wake up screaming or yelling, but you did think he'd say something else—anything to make you feel like he didn't hate you for what you said would be nice.
JJ pulls you down onto the blanket with him to assume your regular cuddling position, but it's modified slightly with his bandages. "You don't have to act like I'll break, Y/N. I've survived a lot of things so far, so accidentally putting your hand over my wound isn't going to do shit."
"Alright, alright." You allow yourself to giggle despite your mind telling you that he's angry with you.
The two of you trail off into silence after a few moments of laughter, both deep in thought. You nervously pick at your nails, wondering what JJ is thinking about. Does he have a speech he's rehearsing in his head? Is he waiting for the right moment?
"Y/N, how could you? You didn't-"
"I'm sorry, JJ. About what I said, I didn't mean to come at you like that. You should still be mad at me, I-" you start to ramble, but JJ cuts you off.
"What? I was going to say you didn't give me my good morning kiss. You always do. Are you still thinking about the fight? It's fine, Y/N, really. Look at me," JJ shifts so you can turn to face him.
"It was harsh, but I needed to hear it. In some ways, I think you're right. Sometimes I blame myself for my mother leaving, which is why he's the way he is, so it comes full circle. I know that's fucked up, but it's getting better. I'm getting better. Why didn't you tell me you were still worrying about it?"
You have to ignore your heartbreaking at his words to be able to talk. JJ has let his father into his head, but you can imagine how hard it would be not to.
"I don't know. You stopped the conversation last night, and I didn't want to push anymore than I already did. I figured I'd wait until you were ready to talk about it, but I've been anxious all morning thinking about it." You take a deep breath.
"Sometimes, when we fight, it scares me because I feel like I'm going to lose you a little each time. We get so caught up in the moment, and I just... We're so different. I don't know what it's like to be you."
JJ places his hands on either side of your face, and at the same time, he wipes a tear that has fallen onto your cheek.
"You can always tell me what's inside of your head, alright? No matter what you say, I won't love you any less. You're right, you don't know what it's like to be me, but I'm in the same boat. Our differences aren't what defines us, right? We've said that since the beginning." JJ reassures you by giving you a quick and sweet kiss.
"I love you, J."
You shove yourself into his chest, and maybe you miss the wince on JJ's face, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't mind. The weight you've been carrying on your shoulders since he left you in the shower last night is gone.
But you might disagree with JJ. Your differences are what makes you right for each other. JJ is the one that pulls you out when you're stuck far in the depths of your mind, and you're the one who cleans his cuts and bruises. You don't understand what he goes through, but you're still there to pick up the pieces, and that's all that matters to him.
++
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waiting4inspiration · 3 years
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Tell Them III (Ivar x Reader)
Summary: You’re broken more than ever after being whipped and even after Ivar took you back to Kattegat, you don’t seem to be getting better. Because there’s only one thing you need to heal again and you doubt that you’ll ever get that.
Warnings: fluffy, angst, angsty fluff, I cried while writing this so have some tissues handy, mentions and signs of depression, mentions of torture specifically whipping, soft Ivar
Word Count: 2,185
A/n: So, I was listening to Lose you to Love Me by Selena Gomez while writing this so I recommend listening to it while reading, but this doesn’t have the same meaning to the lyrics. It’s just the vibe of the song that relates to this.
Part 1 II Part 2 II Vikings Masterlist
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Sometimes, it feels like the cold numbs the ghostly pain you feel in the scars on your back. It also numbs the memory stuck in your mind from when you received those scars and the whipping crack before your screams. Winters in Kattegat are always colder than those in Weset’s kingdom and every morning, you find yourself sitting in the bath until the water’s turned cold. Ice cold, even. 
You don’t expect a knock to sound at your door that morning or your visitor to just walk into your room. As your head turns to see who it is, a breath catches in your throat when you see it’s Ivar and you sink a little bit deeper into the water you sit in. “What are you doing here?” you softly ask, not realizing how dead and monotone your voice sounds. 
But Ivar does and it makes him stop in his tracks, staring at you with a frown on his face. Of course, he’s noticed that you haven’t been the same since he brought you back to Kattegat. You weren’t in any condition to be left alone and he didn’t have the heart to do so in any case. “Well, this is my Great Hall and my kingdom. And I did knock,” he mentions, walking closer to you as you turn your head away from him. 
He glances down at the water you sit in, knits his eyebrows and a thought crosses his mind. His hand reaches into the water, the ripples make your head snap back up to him and you shift roughly. “This water is ice cold,” he states, lifting his eyes from the water to your face. 
“So?”
“So, it’s not good for you if it’s as freezing outside as your water is.” His words make you roll your eyes at him. “I’m serious, (Y/n). I won’t be responsible if you get sick-”
“Fine!” you snap, suddenly pushing yourself up and out of the tub, the water swishing from side to side making Ivar pull his hand away quickly. 
His eyes land on the scars on your back as you walk away from him and he bites his lower lip at the lashes across your skin. He remembers how weak you were for days after you arrived at his camp. You’ve changed a lot since then. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, watching you pull the fur off the bed and wrapping it around your body. 
You sigh deeply, drop your head between your shoulders, and close your eyes. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, Ivar,” you warn, ignoring the shake you feel in your bones as you pull the fur pelt tighter around you. 
“You’ve changed,” Ivar states quite harshly as he takes a step forward. 
“You’re one to talk,” you hiss back, turning around and looking at him with tears just brimming your eyes. “You haven’t told me anything.”
“About what?”
“About what happened to Weset. About the fight you and your army had on the battlefield when you rode out to meet him before he got to the camp,” you state, the exchange between you going so fast, faster than you’ve ever had with him. Before he knew you were a spy, you both spoke gently to each other, your words thought of so carefully so that the other knew how much love was in those spoken words. Now, it’s as if you’re both trying to make your point the most important one. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here. Am your prisoner?”
“If you were my prisoner you wouldn’t be in this room,” he sneers, taking a step forward as he digs his crutch into the ground. “You’d be in a cell, sleeping on the floor with nothing to keep yourself warm. But it seems that wouldn’t be a problem if you’re sitting in cold water on purpose,” he mentions, taking one last step so that he now stands right in front of you, glaring down at your face as you stare up at him. 
You swallow past the lump growing in your throat and hold his gaze as you gently shake your head. “Then why haven’t you thrown me in that cell already?” 
The break in your voice stabs at Ivar’s heart, his stern expression falling as the tears continue to build in your eyes. He didn’t come here to do this. He didn’t come to fight with you. He never wanted to do that since he brought you back when you had nothing left and no one to care for you in your weak state. “Do you really think I’m such a monster to do that to someone who was as hurt as you were?” he whispers, his hand slowly reaching up to touch the side of your cheek. 
But you quickly turn and walk away from him. “I don’t need to be treated like a lost puppy,” you choke out, not even seeing how his hand was rising to touch the side of your face. 
Ivar’s seen this before in other people including himself. You’re broken. That’s why you don’t seem to be the woman he knew, the woman he fell in love with. You’re broken and he’s not sure how much longer you’re willing to go on. “What do you need then?” He doesn’t stop the words from spilling from his lips because he can’t stand seeing you like this. He can’t stand seeing you without that fire that used to shine in your eyes.
Something in your chest hurts when he asks those words, making your hand reach out for the bed to stop your legs from giving in under you. You know the answer to his question, but you don’t have the strength to tell him because you doubt he will give it to you. 
You need his love. You need him to tell you that even after everything that happened, he understands that you only did what you did not because you wanted to hurt him but to survive. You need his forgiveness and a second chance to love him as you once did because you were so great then. Nothing else mattered when he loved you and you need that again now. But you doubt that he will ever love you again. 
The doubt has been growing in your mind since you were able to stand on your own feet when your lashes were somewhat healed. You thought, what kind of person, let alone Ivar, would ever love you now that you have betrayal branded right on your back? It’s a constant reminder that you’re not a good person. A sign that you will be alone until the day you die and no one will love you for you, the woman who wasn’t a spy. The woman you could be when you were with Ivar. 
Tears break from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as these thoughts fill your mind. Breathing a shaky breath, you slowly sink down to the floor, knowing that if you stay standing you won’t have control of your descent to the floor later. It hurts to stand. It hurts in your body and the pain radiates from your back. The fur pelt hangs loosely over your body as you bring your hand up to cover your mouth, muffling a sob so Ivar doesn’t hear it. 
But he does. 
He stands in his spot for a few seconds, watching you keeping your head hanging low as your body slightly shakes. He blinks, his lips parting as you take in a sharp breath only for it to be released a second letter as a small cry. Licking his lip, he places his crutch to the side and uses what he has closest to him - a chair - to help him lower himself to the ground. 
Slowly, he crawls towards you, dragging his legs behind him and he sees your shoulders go slightly tense. But you still don’t lift your head or stop crying. Not even when he reaches you and sits in front of you. He reaches out, curling his finger under your chin to lift your head before he wipes away the tears on your cheeks with his thumb. 
“I never meant to hurt you. If I could go back, Gods know I would and I would stop myself from leaving and just tell you the truth myself and explain everything including how much I love you,” you sob, leaning your face against his palm to feel his touch against your cheek. “I don’t know why I did what I did because now I have nothing. I am nothing,” you add, pulling your face away from his hand and looking to the side, not wanting to look at his eyes. 
Ivar sighs, lets his hand fall and it lands on your thigh sticking out from the fur. “You do remember when I told you that I would never love anyone else because of you. You ruined me, (Y/n),” he speaks, making your head drop between your shoulders again and he knows that you have taken his words wrongly. So, he reaches out, cups your cheek, and slowly brings your gaze to him. “You’ve ruined me for any other woman because I can never forget what I felt in my heart when you were with me. I know that I can never feel that way, I can never feel what I feel with you with another woman,” he states, swiping a fallen tear away as a breath catches in your throat. 
“You might have been a spy, you might have lied to me about why you came here in the first place as well as other things. So now I want to hear the truth. The complete truth,” he says, and you nod your head, urging him to tell you what he wants to know from you. “Did you really love me?” 
He will know if you tell him the truth right now at this moment. He’ll know. 
You force yourself to look in his eyes, hold his gaze as your fingers weave together in your lap. Your mouth goes dry and you lip your lip as they part. “Yes.” The moment that weak word leaves your lips, fresh tears break from your eyes, and when they flutter the tears roll down your cheeks again. You sob, drop your head to look at the ground, and bite your lip. “I love you because I don’t love myself. Not anymore.”
Ivar’s never seen anyone more broken as he sees you now. It hurts him so seeing you hurting like this. Like you’re empty. 
Leaning forward, he presses his lips to the top of your head, his hands traveling up your arm under the fur, and he gently pulls closer to him. You pull your lips into a thin line to stop yourself from bawling like a child, your hand touching your mouth as an extra precaution as you allow yourself to follow his lead in pulling you closer, and closer. 
His lips touch your forehead before they move down the side of your face, kissing over your left eye and then down your wet cheek before moving to do the same on the other side of your face, kissing your tears away. It only makes you carry on crying and you can’t stop the tears from coming. His hands move over your shoulders, pushing the fur off and exposing your back making you shiver. And you gasp when he touches your scars. 
“If you won’t love yourself, then let me love you,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, his lips just touching yours. “I’ll love you when you can’t love yourself. I always will,” he says, nuzzling your face as he softly caresses what he thinks is the reason for your self-hatred.
“But Weset-”
“Is dead. That’s all that matters,” he briefly says, his hands never ceasing in caressing the scars of the lashes on your back. “It doesn’t matter how he died. It doesn’t matter what you told him. It doesn’t matter if it makes you broken. If it’s my love you need to heal, you will have it,” he whispers, leaning closer to press his lips to yours. 
Your hand shoots up to his face, whether it was to push him away or embrace in his kiss, you’re not sure why it did. But that doesn’t matter once he starts to kiss you. Soft and gentle, a kiss of true vulnerability. 
And you’re not sure when it ended, but when your thoughts finally gather and the tears dry up, you sit in Ivar’s lap, your face in his neck, arms wrapped tightly around each other and bodies pressed so close to each other, there’s almost no space to breathe. His fingers still caress the rough skin on your back, lovingly, and he kisses your shoulder every now and then. 
You’ll always live with your regret plastered on your back. But Ivar will always remind you that for you, the one he loves, he will forgive you for that. 
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Dance With Me Under the Stars
@yeah-im-a-fae-deal-with-it, I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun making it and I hope I did the wishes justice. Happy Holidays!! (Much of the imagery was based on the song Volcano by The Vamps.)
@sanderssidesgiftxchange
Word Count: 3993
It was mid semester and Virgil had arrived late to class for the first time in his three years of college. He hurried in quietly, taking his usual seat and pulling his books out. Almost shamefully, he grabbed his homework and walked between the desks to put it on the teacher’s.
He must have had the worst luck in the world as, just then, she turned around. “Ah, Mr. Storm. I was wondering when you’d show up.” Her tone was kind, no note of malice anywhere.
Virgil nodded. “I forgot to set my alarm.” His voice was quiet, barely reaching past the professor.
She nodded with a smile that seemed genuine. “Go back to your seat, please. Just as discussed yesterday, you’ll be debating Mr. Croft in a few minutes.”
Virgil trudged back to his seat, slipping past the others to sit in his usual corner. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to find Logan Croft, a double major in zoology and astronomy who was taking this class for fun, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Virgil ignored him, turning back to his notebook and doodling in the margins as he waited for the professor to finish taking attendance.
He got through half the page before he was being called up to debate, as per usual. He and Croft were only put against each other as examples or if the lecture finished early. This was mainly due to them both being stubborn in their ways and being able to debate things for hours. Thus, they were both called into her office the day before to confirm the topic and style of the debate.
There they stood, on opposite sides of the same plain. It was a familiar position for the pair during their debates. While many would have seen a peaceful place within that plain, maybe even a spot to build something, the two students only saw a battlefield with the fight yet to be fought, yet to be won. Their words danced across the plain, leaving wounds that didn’t mean a thing outside of that moment. A struggle for dominance raged before, as it always did, they came to be equals that saw eye to eye.
Their debate lasted for the first half of class before they came to some sort of agreement on their topic and sat down to listen to the teacher give a lecture on what just happened. After class, Croft caught up with Virgil on his way out. “That was a good debate today, Storm.” He said. The battlefield was back to a plain, nothing special about it.
Virgil looked at him briefly before just shrugging and walking up the stairs. He didn’t bother to look back or wonder why the student who usually avoided him unless it was during these debates was talking to him. He just knew he needed to get to class.
A day later, he was running to dance class and missed a step. Crashing down the stairs, he landed at the bottom in a haze of pain. He tried to move but found that his vision was blurry and his ankle was broken. Someone nearby gave a shout and he heard footsteps on the stairs. A hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched, coming face to face with the person who lived across the hall from him.
“Virgil, what happened?” Emile said, eyes looking concerned.
The dancer didn’t even lie to the psychology major he knew only in passing. “I fell.” He shook his head, trying to get his vision to focus on something, anything. “My ankle hurts.”
Emile nodded and moved to look at it. Gently pressing, he inspected the joint. Virgil hissed when he pressed on it and Emile sat back. “Yep, that’s broken.” Sighing, he moved to help Virgil to his feet, throwing the dancer’s arm over his shoulders. “I’ve got time before my next class so I’ll take you to the nurse before I go tell you’re dance teacher you won’t be able to make it today.”
Virgil shook his head, hobbling along beside him. “No, I’ll tell her later.”
Emile frowned. “You know Professor Kim is not going to be happy about this development. She was counting on you being there through the whole semester.”
Virgil just laughed, shaking his head. “Since when do you talk with her?”
“Since I came to drop off your lunch that day and she was the only one there. We struck up a conversation about you.”
Virgil nodded. “Fair.”
Emile pushed the door open and sat Virgil in the nurse's office before leaving with a wave, tossing an, “I’ll be back in a bit,” over his shoulder. Virgil waited for the nurse to come and diagnose him, soon being rolled out on a gurney on his way to the hospital to get a cast on his broken ankle. He’d also been told that he had a concussion but that wasn’t the main concern.
A few days later, debate class was back in session and Virgil was there in a cast, crutches by his side. Croft came in and eyed the crutches before setting his bag by his usual chair. He didn’t sit down as Virgil thought he would, rather coming over to stand by Virgil’s seat. He nodded his chin at the cast. “What happened there?”
Virgil was taken aback by the care in his voice, a voice that had previously remained so neutral while talking to him that it was borderline monotone. He shrugged as he continued to grab his books out of his bag. “I fell.”
Croft raised his eyebrows, looking about as convinced as he would if Virgil had just told him the sky was magenta. “You fell? Why don’t I buy that, Storm?”
Virgil shook his head. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t believe the truth, Croft.”
He huffed, his eyes melting into the concern that was evident in his voice. Opening his mouth, he seemed to be about to say something but thought better of it, going to sit down instead just as the professor walked in. She paused by his desk. “Professor Kim told me about the ankle. You don’t have to debate for the rest of the semester if you don’t feel up to it.”
Virgil shook his head. “Standing won’t be a problem as long as I have the crutches.”
She nodded. “Still, I’d like to let you rest for a bit.”
Virgil shrugged. “I’m fully capable of standing and debating but I’ll follow your lead on this.” She gave a final nod and moved to stand at the front of the room to begin class.
Thus, six weeks went by. Virgil did essays on dance and movement instead of performing the dances. Professor Kim insisted on recording the lessons so he’l still be able to do them when he’s recovered, which he was immensely grateful for. Debate class went similarly in that he wasn’t called up as often to debate Croft anymore. Instead, he wrote most of his debates as argumentive papers.
That summer, Virgil stayed on campus. He wasn’t taking a summer course, he was simply trying to follow the videos Professor Kim left for him. He lived nearby anyways so it made sense to keep using the studio on campus. That’s how he ended up running into Croft again on the stairs. 
“Oh,” the other student said, bag in hand as he was clearly trying to put his books back in it, “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
Virgil smiled, holding up the gym bag that had replaced his book bag. “The studio is allowing me to catch up on my dance lessons over the summer.” He paused. He and Croft had never been too cordial with each other, merely remaining civil. However, toward the end of the semester they'd come to some sort of academic truce. Now, they were just normal strangers, just two students. So, Virgil took a chance. “What about you? Why are you still here?”
Croft finally shoved the last book into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m having to retake a class due  to low grades.” He shook his head. “I just can’t grasp the subject.”
“What is it?”
Croft sighed. “Psychology.”
Virgil nodded and, on a whim, gave an offer. “I passed Psych with flying colors if you want me to tutor you?”
That plain, that had once been a battlefield before lying dormant, became a meadow in that one moment. No longer a place for duels or violence, but peace and healing. Their once shaky truce seemed to settle, becoming something more permanent, as Croft smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
They walked side by side as they discussed times and tactics for studying. They concluded that their only overlapping free time was directly after Virgil was finished with dance practice as that was when Croft got out of his classes and clubs but before Virgil had to go to Professor Kim’s office for office hours.
So, the very next day saw Virgil walking out of the shower room, towel he’d been drying his hair with still in hand, to see Croft leaning against the wall in the hall. “I wasn’t expecting you for another fifteen minutes or so.” Virgil said as he approached.
Croft looked up from the book in his hand. He briefly glanced at the page number before snapping it shut and picking up his bag. “Apologies, I like to be early.”
Virgil just waved his hand as they fell in step beside each other. “It’s fine. Next time, you don’t have to wait in the hall if I’m not in the shower, you can just sit in the room. As long as you’re quiet, you’ll be fine.”
Croft nodded. “Noted, thank you.”
They made it to the library and sat down, both pulling out books. When Croft gave Virgil a puzzled look, he laughed a bit. “I’ve brought my notes and blank copies of homework to use as practice problems. First, I want to gauge just how bad off you are.” he set down the cumulative final review. “Fill this out to the best of your ability.” Croft set to work, a serious expression on his face. Virgil didn’t want to twiddle his thumbs while waiting so he pulled out his phone and opened it to a new note, beginning to plan out his evening.
Once that was done, he looked up to see Croft with his tongue sticking out slightly, hair in his eyes, and eyes focused on the page. Strangely, there was something beautiful about the concentrated look on his face. Maybe it was the way the sunlight dramatized it and cast his eyes into shadows, making Virgil want to stare until he could see where the iris ended and the pupil began; maybe it was the way his hair framed his face in a way that made Virgil want to pull out a sketchbook.
Feeling self conscious at that thought, he looked back down at his phone and ignored the other student until he heard a pencil connect with the table. “Alright, Storm, I’m done.”
Virgil nodded and slid the page over to himself, quickly checking it against the answer sheet he’d made up. He gave Croft a grade, circled it, and slid it back. A sharp intake of breath came back as Virgil pulled a clean piece of paper closer to himself and began to write down what needed to be worked on.
“Is it really that bad?” Croft’s voice came from Virgil’s side.
He paused in his writing to look up at his former academic rival. He shrugged. “It could be worse. You don’t seem to be too bad off right now and we’re gonna try to get you to where you need to be as soon as possible.”
Croft nodded and away they went. The next few weeks were spent in a new routine. Croft would wait in the hall if Virgil was in the shower but most times Virgil had lost track of time and gone over, resulting in Croft sitting in the corner reviewing definitions. A few times, one of his clubs wouldn’t meet and he’d get out earlier than normal. Those were the times that Croft would sit in and make sure Virgil wasn’t putting too much strain on his ankle and was properly hydrating. Those were the times they’d strike up a bit of witty banter that reminded them of their debates but on a personal level that the debate class was lacking.
One step at a time, they came closer on that meadow until they were standing side by side, leaning on the other. As they grew closer, the meadow rose as if two tectonic plates were pushing it toward the sky. Over the course of that one season, the meadow had become a mountain of a friendship. Their banter began to spread outside of just those rare moments, becoming a constant part of their meetings, tutor sessions, and walks. 
It wasn’t long before the summer semester ended and they had a few weeks of vacation before the next semester. As the days shortened and the leaves turned colors, Virgil almost expected Croft to go on his way. After all, the agreement was done. Virgil had finished learning all the moves he’d needed and Croft had passed his classes with the usual flying colors. 
Still, tutor sessions turned into chats over coffee, dancing changed to walks in the park, but their late night talks on the way back to their apartment building stayed the same. Virgil enjoyed that constant, knowing that no matter what else happened that day, he could walk back to the apartment building with Croft. It was one such walk that it struck him. In all their time together, he’d gotten closer to Croft and no longer saw him as the academic rival they’d been at the start of the year. Instead, he saw him as a friend, or even more than that.
Just when Virgil was satisfied and comfortable with the balance they’d created together, fate tossed a spark gently onto the mountain. In that instance, the mountain turned into a volcano. In that one instant of time, Virgil had fallen for Logan Croft and he knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t have it any other way. He had no idea how he’d tell him, or even if he would tell him. After all, volcanoes can stay dormant for years before going extinct or erupting. Virgil could just wait and hope it was the former or deal with the latter.
The next few weeks were much the same as that with the exception that Virgil was noticing every little thing that Logan did. He noticed the way he leaned toward Virgil as they talked, the way his focus was entirely on the dancer during conversations. Logan was always walking on Virgil’s left side, the ankle he’d broken mid spring semester that acted up occasionally but especially on stairs. He noticed Logan holding doors for him or smiling at him for no particular reason.
All of this gave Virgil a spark of hope in his chest that had him wondering if Logan liked him back. That spark was almost crushed one afternoon. They had just gotten their coffee and started their usual round about the park when Logan spoke. “I might not be able to do the full rotation today, Storm. I’ve got a date with Roman later.”
Virgil felt like his chest had just been stomped on. “. . . A date?” He didn’t know how he kept his voice steady when his heart was breaking, getting closer and closer to shattering the more he thought about those two words.
Logan tilted his head to the sides. “Maybe ‘date’ is the wrong word for it. It’s more like a meet-up.”
Virgil nodded, pretending he hadn’t been holding his breath through that whole exchange. “Okay, when do you have to leave?”
“About half an hour.” He turned and smiled. “Plenty of time.”
Virgil smiled and walked ahead, turning to face Logan as he walked backwards. Logan shook his head. “That’s not the safest way to travel, you know.”
Virgil just shrugged. “There’s worse ways to travel.” He also got to see the rare grin that spread across the zoology major’s face, not that he would tell said student that.
Their walk in the park ended with them standing at the entrance. “I’ll see you later, Storm.” Logan said by way of parting.
“Wait! Later as in tomorrow or later as in-”
He laughed, something that was even more rare than his grin but something Virgil longed to hear more often. “Later today.” Virgil nodded, walking back to his apartment alone.
On a whim, he grabbed his gym bag, stuffing his dance shoes in it, and went to the studio. He scrolled through his playlist as he entered before just hitting shuffle and letting the music play as he got ready. He waited for the next song and took a second to identify it before throwing his hoodie off and moving to the center of the room. 
He went with the music, letting his body flow in whatever way it wanted. Incorporating all the moves he’d learned over the past few months into a cohesive whole that was both as graceful as saplings in the wind but as sharp as the flapping of cloth. He danced to forget his troubles and anxieties, letting them bleed into the movements. A faster song came on and he changed his movements to match, becoming sharper as he let himself get lost in the music, lost to the beat of his feet against the floor, the feeling of the air on his sweat, the feeling of dancing and being free and feeling on top of the world.
When the playlist ended and his muscles were screaming for him to rest, he collapsed onto the floor, panting for breath. When he felt like he could stand, he moved to check his phone clock and found that he’d spent the whole afternoon dancing. Quickly, he showered and made his way back to his apartment. He was still overheated after dancing for a few hours straight so he just had his hoodie slung over his arm, his gym bag over his other shoulder.
He got back to his apartment to see Logan with a fist raised to knock. Smiling, he moved around him and unlocked it. “Come on in.” He dropped his keys in the little bowl on the entrance way table. “I’ve just gotta put this stuff away but it won’t be long.”
Logan smiled, standing comfortably in the entryway. “Take your time, Storm, I’m not going anywhere.” 
For a brief moment, Virgil wondered what his first name would sound like in Logan’s voice. He didn’t dwell on it, instead he nodded, ducking into his bedroom to store his bag where it belonged. Taking a second to put on some extra deodorant and move his hair around so it looked semi-styled instead of the mess it was before, he took a deep breath. The scare of losing him that afternoon had made Virgil realize that he needed to act fast before he lost Logan for real.
So, he kept the hoodie across his arm as he went back out and picked up the keys again. “Ready to go?”
Logan nodded. “Quite.”
Virgil held the door open for him, locking it on his way out. They started down the path in relative silence, the only noise being the crunching of gravel beneath their feet and the sounds of life coming from nearby buildings. Virgil was hesitant to break the silence despite the feelings and words bubbling below his surface. Logan also seemed comfortable in the lack of conversation. They made it to a bench that was out of the way and sat on it to stargaze for a bit.
Virgil tilted his head back, resting it on the back of the bench. His eyes scanned the sky, resting on different stars and connecting them into constellations. After another while of silence, Logan shivered beside Virgil and the dancer turned his head, looking at the astronomy major. “Are you cold?” His voice broke the silence like a sheet of ice falling from a slope.
Logan shrugged. “A bit. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
Virgil hummed and threw his hoodie over the other. “No use in you getting cold when this is right here.”
Logan didn’t react beyond tilting his head down just the slightest bit. He hummed, taking a breath before speaking. “Apologies again for having to end our afternoon walk early.”
Virgil waved his hand. “It’s fine. In fact, it actually gave me time to think.”
Logan looked over at him, eyes inquisitive behind his square black frames. “What about?”
Virgil took a deep steadying breath of the night air before he turned to face Logan just a bit more on the bench. “About you, actually. I realized something when you said you had a date with Roman.”
Logan nodded, his gaze sharpening as his attention seemed to hone in on Virgil. “Okay.”
Virgil fiddled with the rips in his jeans, suddenly anxious. “I realized that if I didn’t act now, someone else might be walking by your side in the park, laughing with a coffee in hand. Someone else might have the door you knock on late at night when you can’t sleep, be the person you debate with over the phone into the early hours of the morning.” He took another deep breath, not looking up at the wonderful human sitting in front of him, the one who deserved the world. “I realized that I love you and can’t stand the thought of another person getting to hold your hand and kiss you goodnight.” He turned his head so he was staring out into the night rather than at Logan. “There, I said it. I love you. I love you so much my chest aches.”
Logan hummed in a way that Virgil couldn’t interpret before there was the rustling of fabric and Logan was kneeling before Virgil, one hand hovering near the dancer’s cheek. “I’m glad you told me as it makes what I’m going to say much easier.” Virgil’s eyes widened slightly, fearing the next thing to come past Logan's lips.
“I love you too. Honestly, I think I’ve loved you since the start of the fall semester. The way you helped me study, putting things into ways I can understand and bending over backwards to do so. The care you take with everything you do, the grace in your every move, the fire and passion you put into your dancing, I love all of you.”
Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing but his nerves settled when Logan’s soft expression didn't change, didn’t turn to a sneer, he didn’t laugh or mock Virgil. Elated, he leaned forward but paused before he could connect their lips. Logan smiled at the quiet ask for consent and leaned in with him, closing the distance and bringing him into a kiss. His hovering hand settled on Virgil’s cheek as Virgil’s hand came up to cradle the back of Logan’s neck, neither wanting to let go.
When they pulled apart, they were both smiling. Logan pulled the hoodie tighter around his shoulders before standing, offering a hand to Virgil to stand as well. An idea came to him and Virgil put his hand in his pocket, pulling his phone out to play a few ballads. “Dance with me under the stars?”
Logan grinned, sliding his hands to be around Virgil’s neck. “I’d love nothing more.”
So, the two did just that, dancing the hour away under the midnight stars. In the arms of the one they loved, the same person who had been their greatest enemy at the start of the year, neither could ask for a better way to spend their time.
165 notes · View notes
writingsnmusings · 3 years
Text
Suds in a Bucket
pairing: modern!ivar the boneless x reader
summary: you bring up the idea of getting out of town and ivar doesn’t hesitate to make it happen. based off of sara evans’ suds in a bucket.
a/n: this idea came to me because of an ask that @thranduilsperkybutt answered and i just couldn't resist. also, i'm very much a country girl at heart with being from texas and all so this song is one of my favorites!
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gif credit: @therealcalicali​
say it was a little passed nine
when her prince pulled up
a white pick-up truck
Nobody liked doing chores, that was a given. Your father had nagged you all through dinner to round up all the trash in the house and take it to the curb. You begrudgingly did so, a frown on your face the entire time.
You were walking back up the driveway when you heard the unmistakable sound of a certain pick-up truck coming down the street. You squealed in glee as Ivar pulled up beside you.
“They still got cinderella doing chores at this hour?” His voice was teasing, like usual.
You rolled your eyes as you slid into the cab, immediately planting a kiss on his smirking lips. Ivar gripped the back of your neck and deepened the kiss; making you let out a moan at his roughness.
“I missed you, you know? You didn’t come around for two days and you barely answered my texts,” You were coming off whiny, but you didn’t care. You missed your boyfriend and you hated being cooped up in that house.
Ivar sighed, “I’m sorry, baby.” He pulled you into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Things at work got busy and you know how my brothers are, I get one day off work and they’re all over me about something or another.”
You hated the way his brothers treated him, just because he was a little different than they were didn’t mean they needed to make his life anymore difficult than it was.
“I wish we could just go away; just me and you. Far away from them and everybody else.”
Before Ivar could say anything back, the porch light flicked on and the figure you could make out of your father stormed out. “Y/N! Get out of that truck and get in here!”
You threw your head back with a groan before giving your boyfriend another kiss and sliding out of the truck. You waved at him before making your way back to your father who was already fuming. You could practically see the steam coming out his ears.
“I love you! I’ll be back for you!” Ivar shouted before gunning it down the street, making your father say some rather rude things about him.
You walked straight to your room, ignoring your fathers angry words and the way your mother refused to even look at you.
she stuck a note to the screen door
‘sorry but i got to go’
that was all she wrote
A week later, Ivar kept his promise.
You were thankfully home alone, your mother being at a church function and your father out at work or somewhere. You were lounging around when you heard your boyfriends truck pulling up the driveway.
You met him at the door with a smile on your face. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” You let him in and greeted him with a kiss which he immediately reciprocated.
“I’m here to take you away.” He leaned on his crutch with one hand and grabbed yours with the other. He didn’t sound like he was joking which confused you.
“You’re what?”
“I’m serious, Y/N. Right now, we can leave and just get away from everybody.” The way he smiled had you seeing stars; he looked so excited you couldn’t say no.
“W-What about money? Where will we go?” The thought to ask questions hadn't occurred to you until after you had already made your mind.
Ivar patted his left pocket which looked significantly bigger than the right. “I’ve been saving, been thinking about getting away with you for a while now.”
“Alright,” You decided. “Let me pack a bag real quick.” You ran up the stairs, throwing a couple items in a duffle bag and grabbing the envelope stuck at the bottom of your drawer filled with cash. You and Ivar had seemingly been thinking about the same thing.
Ivar grabbed the bag from you once you were in front of him and headed back out to his truck. You were almost out the door when you spotted the post it stickers and pen on the entryway table. Just a little note, you thought. As much as you hated it here, you didn’t want your parents to worry and think you’d been kidnapped or anything.
“Sorry but I got to! I love you both!”
You climbed into the truck and gave Ivar a nod, letting him know you were ready to go. With a wink, he started up the pick-up and drove straight out of town.
well he must’ve been a looker,
smooth talking son of a gun
for such a grounded girl
to just up and run
Nobody could figure out how you and Ivar ‘Boneless’ Ragnarrson got together. It was a mystery to everybody, both your families included.
You were the typical straight A student who never got into trouble and he was the typical bad boy who cut class. It was simply fate that brought you two together. That or you happened to be in the hallway when Ivar and his brothers were skipping and you caught his eye.
You’d been shuffling through your locker when he leaned against the one next to you and started up a conversation. His three brothers were a few feet away, all listening in anticipation to watch the youngest Ragnarsson get shot down.
Of course you’d heard of them, the three eldest Ragnarssons basically ran the school. Had everybody afraid, nobody dared even mess with any of them. Then there was the youngest, Ivar walked with a heavy limp, always relying on a crutch and keeping as far away from his brothers as possible.
You realized right away he wasn’t anything like them. He was quiet, kinda brooding most of the time but he didn’t heckle his peers like they did. That’s what drew you to him. He wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.
From that one conversation at your locker where he made a joke about the homeroom teacher you two shared, your relationship only grew from there. You usually sat alone at lunch, opting for your quiet time instead of gossip and apparently so did Ivar. It didn’t take long for him to ask you out on a date which you accepted.
Your parents nearly blew a gasket once they found who you were dating. The Ragnarsson name was basically a curse word in your home. His parents didn’t have a great reputation either, you’d come to learn.
But your parents disapproval nor the gossip from the old biddied in town didn’t make you any less attracted to Ivar. You treated like him was normal, no special treatment or put downs because of his disability and he treated you like the brilliant and capable woman you were.
You and him were meant to be.
she’s got her pretty little bare feet hangin’ out the window,
and they’re heading up to vegas tonight
A sigh escaped your lips as you felt the sun and cool wind flowing through the truck.
Ivar’s eyes strayed from the empty road to your blissed out face. He loved seeing you so relaxed and carefree. No worries we’re on either of your shoulders, the only decision you’d have to make was where to stop for lunch next.
“How’re you feeling?” Ivar lowered the radio as he asked.
“Amazing,” You smiled at him before continuing. “The best i’ve felt in a long while.”
Ivar returned the smile, “Good, I love to hear that.” He turned the radio back up as he reached over and grabbed your hand before bringing it up to his lips and kissing it.
A sign saying ‘Welcome to Vegas!’ flew by, making you smile even wider. Your new life was set to begin and you couldn’t wait.
and no you can’t fence time
and you can’t stop love
189 notes · View notes
imagines-r-s · 3 years
Text
sticking it - j. farabee
chapter 6
a/n: now you’ll all see why i said be excited for ch. 6 lmao. (also, with ch. 5 not showing up in the tags for a minute, some might not have seen it, so i’ll link it here) but anyways, this chapter was difficult to write bc i’m not used to writing anything but angst lmao. and huge shoutout to my baby gracie for helping me out with this chapter. please enjoy and i’d love to hear feedback
also, like i told an anon, this is in memory of bee’s hair :((  (he still looks good with the new hair, don’t get me wrong)
taglist: @butgilinsky @barbienoturbby @sunsetholland​ @lovenhlboys @sortagaysortahigh @hockey-racing-fubol @oopsiedoopsie23 @iwantahockeyhimbo @dreamsndior
warnings: (2) your mom jokes, jealous!joel?, once again simp nation for the both of them, swearing (it’s a problem ngl), idiocy 
sticking it masterlist
wc: 4.1k
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(gif not mine)
When you told Marcus and Michelle that you had to be out for a month, they advised you to only come to the gym three times a week for two hours for the first two weeks and you’d figure out a plan for the two weeks after, that way you could take a much needed break out of the gym. The thing stressing you out the most was gym and they obviously realized it, so they were hopeful it would give you a chance to breathe. 
You planned to go to the gym Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays from 6-8am and then you would spend the rest of your day at home doing whatever you needed to do that day. The first Monday you spent those two hours doing ab workouts and helping the other girls around the gym, then you went home and stayed in your room for the rest of the day. You put your phone on do not disturb, so no one heard from you, which caused Kevin to come to your apartment to make sure you were okay. 
Tuesday played out the exact same way, early practice, then going home and staying in bed, and Kevin coming to make sure you were alright. Kevin even invited you to come out with him and some of the boys, which you politely declined saying they should have their time together. Wednesday, you simply stayed in bed, choosing to actually keep your phone on today, you were just tired and felt drained from everything going on right now that you couldn’t really muster up the energy to talk to anyone. 
Wednesday night, as you were rewatching Marvel movies, your phone started ringing with a call from Ryanne. Quickly answering it, “hey Ry.”
“Hey babes, how’re you doing?”
“I’ve been better, I’ve also been worse, so.”
“Me and Claude were wondering if you’d want to come over and hang out with us and Gav for some of the day, we’ll provide food and such, but we miss you, babe. So, we figured we’d ask while you have a chance.” 
In reality, Ryanne had heard from Claude that you wouldn’t be able to do extensive training for at least a month. She might not have known much about gymnastics, but she knew you well enough to know that you were always constantly training - she was well aware that if that ever got taken from Claude that he would be devastated if he was out for that long and with two weeks to prepare for a big game.
She had checked in to see how you were with Kevin one day after practice and when he mentioned everything that was going on, she was worried about you. She knew that she likely wouldn’t be able to help much, but she did know that there was one part of the equation she could help. Knowing that she already had a plan to have a send off party before the boys went on a roadie and also knowing that everyone on the team would be there, she somehow conveniently planned to invite you over a few hours before it started. 
“Oh, yeah, I’d love to, honestly. What time do you want me over?”
“Anytime after three is fine. I’ll see you then, hun. Oh, and wear something cute.”
“Why exactly?”
“Just do it,” Ryanne said, not having time to think of an excuse, “bye.”
As you were about to say something else, the ring that told you she had hung up rang out. 
…..
Joel wasn’t doing as good as he wanted to be recently and with an upcoming roadie, he knew he needed to spend more time on the ice before the game. Having asked a few of the guys to work with him during an unscheduled morning skate, he was able to work on what he needed to. 
“Wait, so she’s out how long?” Joel overheard Travis ask Kevin as he made his way into the locker room. 
“Like four weeks, but two weeks with the brace and basically no training, then two weeks with athletic tape on her knee and no hard landings. But she’ll only have two weeks before Championships, so she's not feeling too great about it. Plus, she has to use her brace and crutches again and she didn’t enjoy that the first time,” Kevin replied. 
“Is she going to be okay?” Joel hadn’t meant to ask his question aloud, but as soon as Kevin heard his voice a smile grew on his face. 
“Yeah, Lover Boy, she’ll be fine. She hasn’t really been up to do anything recently, but other than that I think she’ll be okay. She has to use her crutches again, which is honestly very entertaining,” Kevin stated before turning to leave the locker room, turning right as he got to the doorway, “random question, are you planning on going to G’s for the send off party tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just wondering,” and with that Kevin was gone, leaving a confused Joel behind. 
Kevin knew that you had a lot on your plate right now and that you wouldn’t want to go to anyone about your problems. He also knew that the both you and Joel, were simply too stubborn to fix the problem going on between you on your own, hence why he had mentioned something to Ryanne. He knew that Ryanne would jump at the chance to be able to help you feel better and as soon as she mentioned the party set-up idea, he was in. The plan was then mentioned to most of the team, knowing that the help of many was needed in order to help the two idiots. 
….. 
After sending Kevin a quick text that you were leaving, you left your apartment and made your way to Ryanne and Claude’s house. Gently knocking on the door, you smiled when Ryanne opened the door, “awe, babe, I’m so happy you’re here, I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too. Not to be rude, but where is the tiny human?” you asked, looking past Ryanne to see Gavin walking towards you, “hi, bub. Oh my god, you’re getting so big.” 
“Well if you came around more often, you’d get to see him more,” Ryanne mumbled, watching you play with the boy in front of you. 
“I heard that,” you said, in a sing-song voice.
“You were supposed to,” she replied, mocking your tone, “anyways, Claude is on his way back from the store, so he’ll be here soon, but I haven’t talked to you in forever, how’s everything? How’s gym?”
“Oh, well. I’ve been better, this last meet definitely wasn’t all that great and not being able to train doesn’t really help my case either, but I’m making the most of it,” you said, shrugging. 
“And you’re actually having to listen to Adrian this time around?” she said, pointedly, causing you to chuckle. 
“Yeah, I have to actually listen to Adrian this time,” you smiled, “I hate that I have to actually wear my knee brace, though. And I have to use crutches. Can you believe that?”
“Considering it’s you, I’m more shocked that you’re actually using them.” 
“Ry, shh, let’s not call me out too much today,” you replied. 
It wasn’t too long before you heard the front door open, Claude walking in a few seconds later, “awe, it’s my favorite babysitter. Come on, babe, let’s leave while we can.”
“Haha, I almost forgot how funny you are, G,” you said, sarcastically. 
“I’m sure, I’m sure. You know what would be nice though?”
“What?”
“Helping me put the groceries up,” he said, smiling sweetly causing you to groan. 
“Are chores and babysitting all I’m good for to you?”
“Well,” he looked up to the ceiling, as if he were thinking for another answer,”hm, nothing comes to mind, y/n/n.”
“Oh, that was mean,” Ryanne said, playfully elbowing Claude. 
“Thank-”
“She’ll never babysit again if we’re mean to her,” Ryanne smirked. 
“Oh, wow, I see how it is, don’t worry,” you said, the three of you laughing. 
As the three of you were setting out groceries - you mostly sitting on the kitchen island, taking things out of the bag - the three of you caught up. Claude talking about his hopes for these next few games, Ryanne talking about how Gavin was doing - not missing the few times Gav ran through the kitchen -, and you talking about whatever you could. 
“Ok, so we haven’t brought this up yet, but I was just wondering if you had any idea what’s going on with Beezer? I know you guys had gotten closer recently and he’s just not himself, so I’m asking if you know anything,” Claude asked, closing the fridge before turning back to you. Both him and Ryanne had a pretty good idea of what happened, but if they were missing something, they wanted to know. 
“Oh, um, well, about that one,” you sighed, gathering your thoughts, “me and him kinda haven’t talked since I told him I only wanted to be friends.” 
“Ok, but from the looks of it, it looked like both of you wanted to be more than friends?” 
“Yeah, but, there’s a lot more to it, you know.”
“No, actually, I’m a tad bit lost, y/n/n.”
“Look, I can’t have any distractions right now and I was worried about it affecting gymnastics, so I told him I only want to be friends.”
“That’s dumb,” Claude replied, quickly.
“Thank you, many people have mentioned that.”
“He has no place to talk in a situation like this,” Ryanne finally spoke up, causing you to look between the pair confused, “when his life was just hockey, hockey, and hockey, nothing could fill those spots. So, when our relationship was first starting he did the same thing to me that you’re doing to Bee.”
“This was supposed to be a philosophical moment and you messed it up,” Claude replied. 
“I didn’t mess it up, you’re just mad because you basically called yourself dumb. But pushing him away isn’t a smart option and it just hurts both of you in the process,” Ryanne said before walking back to where Gavin was. 
“Look, I know you said you didn’t want distractions, but this seems to be having a worse effect on you than you hoped. From the looks of it, when you started pushing him away, it affected your performance. Just pointing that out for you.”
“Yeah, I know. You didn’t have to point it out, you know.”
“Yeah, but you would have continued to ignore the obvious fact that you were just scared of a relationship in general,” he shrugged.
“I don’t even know how to talk to him about it or at least how to start the conversation.”
“Well, lucky for you,” he looked down to check his watch, “the guys are all coming over in like 10 minutes, so you’ll see him then.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, it’s a send off party for the roadie this weekend, why do you think we got so many groceries?” and with that he left you in the kitchen by yourself. 
…..
Joel sat in the backseat of Kevin’s car, Nolan in the passenger seat, as they made their way to G’s house. By the time they got there, most of the guys had already gotten there, seeing a few familiar cars in the driveway, but one stood out in particular. He knew that it was yours from some of the times he had seen you driving, “what’s y/n/n doing here?”
Nolan and Kevin both chuckled at that, “she came over here earlier to watch Gavin, I think,” Kevin said. 
“Oh, cool,” Joel replied, attempting to sound nonchalant as possible 
“Don’t try to act like you’re not freaking out. You aren’t slick, dude,” Nolan added, shaking his head, “you two better talk, too. Because everyone is tired of the two of you being idiots and not talking shit out.” 
“We’re not idiots.”
“You are,” the other two said in unison. Joel didn’t try to argue as he followed the pair inside their captain’s house. 
As soon as he entered the house, he took note that almost all the team was here, most of the team was outside, but he immediately found you sitting on one of the barstools with Gavin sitting on your lap as you talked with Ryanne. “Go talk to her,” Nolan whispered, causing him to jump. 
“God, Pat. What the fuck?” Joel said turning around. 
“I said what I said. You’ll have to talk at some point, might as well just do it. Plus, she’s on crutches, so like, if she wants to run away it will take her a while.”
“Um, that’s- I mean, that’s valid, but-”
“At some point today, you should talk to her. I obviously can’t make you and it’s up to you, but I think it would help fix things,” Nolan said, shrugging.
“Yeah, I know, I know. I plan on it.” 
You and Ryanne had stayed inside with Gav since the boys were grilling outside, so when Nolan, Kevin, and Joel walked in, you were one of the first people to notice. Kevin made his way over to you almost as soon as he came in, “so, you enjoying the party?”
“Considering I didn’t know it was happening, sure I’m having a great time, Kev.”
“Well, I guess it’s a surprise party then,” you quickly shot him a glare, “surprise.” 
As you heard the back door open, you looked up to see Joel already looking at you, shooting you a quick smile as he followed his teammate to go outside. “I swear, if all you guys do tonight is spare glances at each other and don’t talk, I’m going to lose it,” Ryanne said from beside you. 
“I think everyone will, to be honest,” Kevin added, “well, I’m going outside. If you need any help, just let me know.” 
The boys had a few different plans in place to get the two of you to talk; conveniently sending Joel in to help while you were inside, telling Joel to go help out inside, asking Joel to get Gavin, and as a last resort, make Joel jealous. 
When everyone had been done eating, Claude asked some of the younger guys to help him clean up and bring out the cooler with drinks that was still inside. Joel had somehow conveniently avoided going inside while helping and when he did, he went straight to the kitchen and right back out. He wasn’t wanting to avoid you all night, but he didn’t know what to do. Shortly after, Claude had asked Joel to go in and get Gavin, somehow right as you had left Gavin with Ryanne, which also ruined that plan. 
Ryanne knew that it would be suspicious if they kept trying those same plans. So instead, she basically forced you to go outside with her. She helped you get outside, Kevin shooting up from his chair to help you get down the stairs of the deck, “you don’t have to help me out, Kev.”
“Knowing you, you would trip and break something. You’re already hurt enough,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes. As Kevin looked up, he didn’t miss the way Joel lit up as he saw you, “hey, your boy is looking over here.”
Looking up, your eyes once again met his, to which you sent him a light smile, “yeah, he’s been watching me since I stepped out here.”
“y/n/n, you would only know that if you were looking at him, too.”
“Yeah, I never said that I wasn’t though.” 
“You know, it’s obvious the two of you aren’t mad at each other or anything like that. So, why the fuck haven’t you talked yet?”
“Oh, um. Words are hard,” you said, walking away towards Travis and Nolan on your crutches. 
“You’re literally on crutches, you aren’t moving that fast.”
“You know who else isn’t moving that fast?”
“y/n. I swear, if this is another your-”
“Your mom,” you yelled back to him. 
“What is up with you and making your mom jokes?” Nolan asked as you got closer to them. 
“They’re funny?” 
“y/n/n just has the sense of humor of a middle school boy, that’s why her and Beezer got along so well,” Travis added, helping you move your crutches so you could sit down at the table they were at, “how are the crutches?”
“How’s your mom?” you laughed, causing the two of them to groan, “nah, they’re not fun. In any way shape or form.”
As you were talking to Nolan and Teeks, Kevin and Ryanne realized that none of the plans they had tried were working. Both of them knew that the only plan that would probably work was to make Joel jealous, so Kevin texted Carter, Morgan, Nolan, and Teeks to let them know that was the plan that they were going with. 
“y/n looks really good today,” Carter said, causing Joel to spit out his drink. 
“Better watch yourself, Hartsy,” Joel replied, shooting a glare towards his friend. 
“I was just being honest, she really does. There’s nothing going on between you guys anymore, right?” Carter watched as Joel visibly tensed at the mention of what was happening between the two of you, knowing that the plan was working he continued, “I mean, if nothings going on between you two, then she’s single, right?”
“Well, I mean-” Joel stuttered out, “we haven’t talked in a while, but that doesn’t mean-”
“I’ll be right back, okay?” Carter said, making his way over to the table you were at, causing Nolan and TK to chuckle as they saw Joel’s face drop, “hey, y/n/n.”
“Hey, Hartsy, it’s been a minute. How is everything?” you smiled. You kept talking to the group around you for a while, not noticing the way Joel was becoming visibly angry. He didn’t want to seem jealous, but he assumed that Carter had been flirting with you this whole time, so he made the executive decision to talk to you now. 
Since your back was facing him, you didn’t see him coming, but the three boys around you did, only trying to hide their smiles since the plan was actually working. “Hey y/n, can we talk?” he asked. 
You turned around to finally face the boy you had been avoiding, “yeah, hold on a sec.” As you continued some of your conversation, Joel was getting more and more irritated, mostly because Carter was sending looks his way that he couldn’t exactly read. Joel, being the impatient person he was, pulled the chair you were sitting at away from the table, pulling you up to stand before lifting you up over his shoulder, “Bee, what the fuck?”
He simply ignored you as he carried you up the stairs and back inside his captain’s house. You tried pushing yourself off as he made his way up the stairs, but it was deemed useless when he just tightened his grip, “Farabee, I swear to god. I will hurt you.”
Eventually, he opened the door to the guest bathroom and gently set you down on the counter before locking the door, “what the fuck was that for? If you want to talk, you could have just waited a second. But no, you had to be all dramatic about it,” you said, rolling your eyes. 
“Are you done?” Joel asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the door.  
“I mean, yeah. Are you?” 
“Yeah, but I’m tired of us ignoring each other and I miss you, so we need to figure stuff out.”
“Awe, you miss me? That’s cute,” you smiled. 
“y/n/n, I swear, now is not the time for that one.”
“Ok, sorry. I’ll be serious now,” you said, crossing your arms to mock him. 
“I just want to know what happened at the lake?” 
“Oh, we’re going straight to the point, alright,” you sighed, “look, what I said at the lake wasn’t true. I got this idea in my head that if you were in my life, you were a distraction from what I wanted.”
“How’d that work out for you?” he said, smirking. 
“Oh, no, see that’s what we’re not going to do. No need for the attitude. Anyways, I had this idea that if anything happened between us, that I would mess it up and it would mess everything in my life up. So, pushing you away was the safest option.”
Joel took a moment to gather his thoughts before pushing himself off the door and made his way closer to you, ending up standing between your legs with his hands on either side of you, “look, I’m saying this and I mean it. I understand where you’re coming from with the fear of distractions thing, but I want you to know that I would never intentionally keep you from your goals and dreams. I’m just extra support, you know.”
“Yeah, I realized that after you ran from the lake house. We could have had this figured out by now, if you had stayed,” you said, sarcastically. Rolling your eyes for added dramatic effect. 
“Oh, shut up. You have no place to talk, babe,” he said, smiling when he heard you giggle, “what was that for?”
“I kinda missed you calling me babe, I guess. Kinda crazy, dude.”
“Awe, so you did miss me?”
“I never said I didn’t,” you said, quietly reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You saw the way that his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, “I also missed this,” and with that you pulled him closer until your lips met in a long awaited kiss. 
As the two of you broke away, your foreheads were still together, “hey, Bee?”
“Yeah?”
“You know who else I missed? Your mom,” you laughed. 
“Way to ruin the moment, babe,” he smiled, “That was funny though, so I respect it.”
“Dude, I’m so funny sometimes.”
“Looks aren’t everything, babe,” he said, laughing at the gasp you responded with. 
“Oh, that was rude. I’ll get you back one day though,” you watched as he went to leave the bathroom, “hey, Bee. I’m not supposed to walk without crutches, hate to break it to you.”
Rolling his eyes, he made his way back to you, turning around right in front of you, “here.” You leaned a little bit forward, wrapping your arms around his neck once again as he readjusted his grip on the back of your legs, so he could give you a piggyback ride on the way back outside. 
“You know, they didn’t tell me there was a party,” you spoke as he made his way back towards the door. 
“Oh, they said it was teammates only and then I saw your car,” he replied, pausing a moment as the two of you realized what had happened at the same time, “so, this was-”
“Yep.” 
“And Hartsy saying he was going to ask you out was part of it?”
“Hartsy said he was going to do that,” you started cackling. “Wait, were you jealous of him?” you asked laughing even harder. 
“It’s not funny.”
“Oh, yeah. I know, it’s hilarious.” 
“I will drop you right now,” he said, as he opened the door for outside, “and you’ll stuck right here, Ms. ‘I can’t walk down stairs right now’.”
“That’s a low blow,” you said, as the two of you made your way back to the table you were at. 
“Oops, sorry, babe,” he set you down close to your chair, but sat down before you could.
“Oh, so now you steal my chair, too?”
“Oh, shut up, you’re fine,” he said, pulling you to sit in his lap, “there you go.”
“So, I see the two of you made up?” Nolan asked, pointing at the two of you. 
“We also made out, in case you were wondering,” Joel replied, earning an elbow to the stomach, “ow, that hurt.”
“Sucks to suck, babe,” you replied, causing the smile on his face to grow even more. 
When Kevin and Ryanne watched the two of you walk back outside, they were happy to see that the plan worked. Ryanne simply laughed and shook her head as she heard the exchange between the two of you, “they are so in love and I don’t even think they realize it.”
“Ryanne, that is a big word, that I’m not prepared for. So, please, let’s not do that today,” Kevin replied, earning a laugh from Ryanne, “they’re happy though, that’s all that matters to me.”
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Text
No Tangents
"I fucked up."
Alex looked around, but Michael was alone outside his door. He had that earnest look, that look that made him feel so seen. "Okay? Are you in trouble or something?"
"Fuck, Alex, with you, I fucked up with you."
"Oh." Alex tilted his head and leaned against the door frame. "Elaborate."
Michael looked down. "Can I come in?"
"Nope."
"Alex, it's really a lot, it's going to take me a while to spit it all out," he said. "And apologize."
Alex made an interested noise but didn't move.
Michael sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Okay. Okay. I'm, I'll start from the beginning. I'm sorry I stole Valenti's hubcaps and got arrested the day you left, I didn't want to say goodbye but I should have been there for you anyway, that was selfish and I'm sorry."
Alex lost his balance against the frame and caught himself on his crutch. "Michael."
"Yeah?"
"Back up." He shooed him away from the door so he could step out, then pulled it shut behind him and led him to the table on the porch where they could both sit. "I knew you did that on purpose. You're a genius. And I knew you were scared for me, and for you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was fighting for both of us."
Michael gave him a sour look. "Don't co-op my apologies, Alex, I practiced this."
He held up his arms in surrender.
"I'm sorry I always picked fights with you when you came back. I was always angry, but not at you, but you were there, and then you wouldn't be, but then you'd come back again anyway so... Sorry."
"Can I address any of this?" Alex said.
"Uh, no, 'cause then we'll go on tangents that I don't have prepared," Michael replied. "I know that's not, like, a thing I can maintain forever, but if I could get through this without fucking this up too, that'd be great."
Alex waved his hand for him to continue.
"Okay, um, I'm sorry I was an asshole when I first saw you when you came back this time, I was pissed about Foster selling out, and I hate the uniforms, and I had some of the console glass out on my table, and then it was you and your dad, and I was a total asshole. And you were hurt. And I'm--"
"Don't apologize for that. What happened over there had nothing to do with you," Alex said.
"No, but I'm sorry I don't know. I'm sorry I never asked. I will. I want to know, if-if you want to tell me."
"I think that might be something I have to prepare," Alex said dryly. "Go on."
Michael nodded. "Alright, then, uh, then, god, everything went to hell. Uh, Texas."
Alex looked away.
"No, listen, I'm sorry I got between you two, I didn't realize, you never talked about her and she never talked about you and by the time I figured it out she already told me like three times it was never happening again. I didn't realize you two were friends. I'm sorry."
Alex snorted. "Neither did she, actually."
Michael only gave him a wide-eyed, confused look.
"Friends aren't supposed to treat friends the way she treated me, Michael. She never sought me out unless she needed me. She ignored the way I feel about you." Alex stopped and shook his head. "Don't worry about the stuff with her so much. She has yet to apologize for her actions. But I am sorry that I pretended to be happy when I was miserable about the whole situation. There's nothing I want more than for you to be happy, Michael. I need you to know that."
"Fuck, Alex." That same wide-eyed, confused expression. Alex thought it kind of made him look like a sad puppy. "I-- Hold on, all right, tangents. Next is Caulfield."
"No," Alex said sharply. "Absolutely none of that was your fault. No. That was mine--"
"Shut up, Alex, I'm not talking about, I'm, you knew I was lying. When I said, when I said I don't love you, I was lying, you know I was lying, right? I'm sorry."
"I know. I knew," Alex said softly.
"I do," Michael said. He looked at him steadily. "I love you, Alex."
This wasn't how Alex imagined the first time they'd say the words out loud to each other. He'd have bet one or both of them would have to be actively dying. He definitely preferred this scenario, though. It even brought a little smile to his face. "I love you, too, Michael."
Michael blinked at him like he was an unusually difficult math problem that didn't compute. "What?"
"What do you mean what?"
"You used to love me. You said that. You loved me, past tense. And-- no, no tangents, stop that!"
"Really, not even for mutual love?"
"You are killing me, private."
"Mm. Sorry, do continue."
"I'm sorry for not showing up when I said we would talk, um, and for being a giant dick--"
"You don't have to apologize for having a--"
"Stop being cute or I'll climb over the table and kiss you."
Alex leaned on his elbow. "Is that supposed to be a threat? Because I've been cute before and you didn't climb over any tables."
"You're really ruining my attempt at honest communication, here, Alex," Michael said, even while still uttering his name with reverent fondness.
"So sorry. Please, what else do you have?"
"I'm sorry I let you think I didn't love you anymore. I think you are the most amazing person on this planet, okay, human or otherwise. You make this rock worth living on. Alex, I'm so sorry I fucked up with you, you're literally the most important human to me, I-- I ran to you instead of Max at CrashCon, I--"
Alex was trying so hard not to laugh.
"What?"
"Your romantic word vomit."
Michael glared at him, and Alex actually laughed. "I am not seeing the joke."
"The literal alien from outer space who I've been in love with for over a decade doesn't see the humor in the situation."
"Tangent."
"Sorry, are you not done? Is there more? You're so pissy when you're apologetic."
"Glad you're amused, and yes, there are two more. I'm sorry for being a jealous asshole about Forrest, and I'm sorry I left in the middle of your song."
"Aww, I thought you were jealous of me, not him," Alex teased.
"Are you for real right now? I spent how long trying to tell you he wasn't even a friend?"
"Yeah, all that sounded a little bit like you didn't want me to get jealous of you, actually."
"You're a menace."
"Mhm? Anything else? Or are you going to follow through on your threat?"
"What's that? Oh, to climb over the table and kiss you? Because we love each other? And you still want me to kiss you? And be seen with me in public? And perhaps hold hands on occasion?"
"Yes, all of that, come here," Alex said impatiently, pulling him partway by Michael's improperly buttoned shirt to meet in the middle for a kiss ten years in the making.
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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years
Text
Living with Matthew Gray Gubler during quarantine would include...
@drspencr did a Spencer Reid version of this! (You should read it, its adorable) So I decided to do an MGG version (with permission ofc).
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- 2 weeks into quarantine and he was already planning Halloween costumes.
- Yes, it was still March
- You knew that the man whistled but man was that his favorite pastime lately. Lost count of how many songs you've had stuck in your head courtesy of your lovely boyfriend
- There was quite a scare about a month in
- Matthew had a BAD cold and you had thought for sure that you were part of an unlucky bunch who had caught it
- But after two days and 4 bowls of Chicken Noodle Soup, his cough had ceased and he was back to being his normal dumbass self
- He has you posing in numerous weird ways for his abstract and odd ways of drawing
- These soon filled up one of your walls in the bedroom
- If anyone were to see that wall, they would probably think you guys were insane or something but in reality, you were just so bored
- You had both done quite the kimono modelling/photoshoot
- Seeing you in a kimono got him a little excited if ya know what I mean
- But that's a story for another time
- Though it was a constant reminder when he would place the scandalous polaroids around the house where he knew you would find them
- He begs you to let him buy a Kimono Dragon
- Which you correct him, because it's komodo
- And you obviously say no, because where would you keep that thing??
- "The closet babe!!"
- "For the LAST time. Komodo Dragon baby. Not Kimono. He cannot sleep and eat and live safely in a closet. Do you want your kimonos ripped to shreds?"
- He pouts for a bit
- You had listened to the Alvin and the Chipmunks version of 'Funky Town' so many times that you sung it in a very high pitched voice naturally now
- Popping in on zoom calls with the Criminal Minds cast
- Helping Matthew come up with new ideas for his stuffed animals
- "What about a Walrus!"
- "Yes perfect! I can make his little tusks. It'll be so cute! Thank you!"
- Smooches
- On a more HORNY note
- Remember all those times where Matthew was filming and there was NEVER time to get laid
- Well, now is the time
- And trust me, you took advantage of it
- There were finally days were you could just stay in bed and be with eachother
- Matthew loved cuddling, he was so grateful that he didn't have to stay six feet away from you
- Because he could barely stay six inches away from you
- "So much for social distance." You mumbled between kisses
- "There is no fucking way I could handle that."
- Making him a Rumple Buttercup mask
- He nearly cried when you gave it to him
- Begging him for a whole week to binge Criminal Minds with you
- "Please, please, please? I just wanna watch my baby in action!"
- Truth be told you hadn't been able to watch the show fully. Just a few episodes here and there
- "Why watch that when I'm right here?"
- He ended up giving in and watching it with you. Pointing out the ones he directed, making you love them 6x more
- There was oh so much baking
- The amount of brownies you had stored in your freezer for later was sinful
- It was a good thing that you guys didn't live in an apartment building or have extremely close neighbors because music was blasting so often
- There was so much dancing
- You had warned him to not dislocate his knee again while dancing
- Which was the real reason he had to be on crutches in season 5
- At one point he had you put on his, as the fans called them, director scarves
- That was another great fashion show for the polaroid camera
- Having socially distant picnics with his family
- Watching the classical horror movies that he loves
- So you buy him some of The Shining merch on amazon
- Not only watching horror movies, but watching Disney movies
- Matthew is not secretive for his love of Disney movies
- And Star Wars
- Him doing magic for you and only showing you how to do about 2 of the tricks because ya know
- A magician never reveals his secrets
- You rolled your eyes numerous times at this
- Taking long baths together
- Let's just say the bathroom was steamy for more than just one reason
- Taking over his twitter for a day and saying weird shit
- But later posting a picture of you
- "Can we please pick a stray dog off of the street? I need another living thing here."
- "Only if we can call it Edgar."
- "As in 'Allen Poe'?"
- "Duh."
- Wearing so many of his clothes
- Like
- So many
- And maybe putting him in one of your shirts just to see him in a crop top
- It was a little hotter than you expected
- Making him read Rumple Buttercup to you more than once
- You just love it so much
- "And that's when Rumple realized, everyone was weird!"
- You may or may not have put makeup on the poor man
- He was so reluctant but when he saw himself in the mirror
- "Damn I am SMOKIN!"
- Making youtube videos because he "needs content" and "is bored"
- When you had moved in, you brought your PS4, this had Sims 4 on it
- You made your family on it
- He insisted on getting a dog
- "We are living out the real dream! Look at all the tiny Gubes y/n! Look at 'em!"
- Life is a never-ending hug with this man
- And that's how you liked it
- You wouldn't wanna be stuck in the house with anyone else.
Doesn't nearly do a justice compared to the QUEENS but I enjoyed making it. Hope you guys liked it too. Requests are open!! (You can also request for a full fic of one of these plot points 👀)I JUST REACHED 100 FOLLOWERS WHAT DO I DO
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asunshinepuff · 3 years
Text
It Started with a Piano
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🎶 Hello! Honestly, this may be my most anticipated fic ever. Not because it’s been requested of me a lot, but because I have wanted to write a fic with this song probably since I saw a marauders CMV with it.
Until today, I had no clue how to write this and never thought too hard on it, then suddenly I’m listening to the song and it clicks. Talk about Inspiration. So anyway, enjoy this piece of wolfstar fluff from their Hogwarts years!
If you want to listen along, here’s the link to the song that inspired me to write this. Or you could listen to the piano cover.
The song technically doesn’t start until Remus begins playing the piano but do with that as you will.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy! 🎶
.
When life leaves you high and dry, I'll be at your door tonight. If you need help, if you need help.
I'll shut down the city lights, I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bribe. To make you well, to make you well.
Remus opened the doors of the fifth-floor classroom, grateful to find it empty, not that he hadn’t asked Professor Flitwick for permission beforehand. He didn’t know how he would've explained this - given that he wasn’t taking music as an extracurricular. 
Avoiding his fellow marauders was easier than he had anticipated, though to be fair, he had already told James and Sirius the plan for their next prank. He had some spare time as they brewed the necessary potion.
Walking towards the piano in the back center of the room, he gently lifted the lid and propped it open before taking a seat at the bench. Running a soft hand over the ivory keys, he thought about the cords that he had put together late last night in the dorms. 
Listening to the song over and over until it was ringing in his ears. Humming softly under his breath, he pulled a notebook out of his pack and flipped through the pages. 
Taking a breath, Remus began to play the first notes of the instrumental beginning, relaxing as the familiar tune began to fill the air and his strong focus lessened as it neared the first verse. 
“When life leaves you high and dry, I'll be at your door tonight, if you need help, if you need help.” He sang aloud, content at this moment to be on his own.
When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you away from war. If you need help, if you need help.
Your hope dangling by a string, I'll share in your suffering. To make you well, to make you well.
Sirius had a song stuck in his head, it echoed throughout the day ever since late last night. He knew it was because of Remus, though he had no idea what that song meant. Remus had him listen to countless muggle songs on his tape player that were his favorites or songs that they had discovered together. 
It was fascinating to hear the variety of music that could be created with instruments and recorded, to the point that it became a habit for them within their dorms. 
Something seemed strange though, he couldn’t help but muse as James stirred the fluxweed and knotgrass together for their Polyjuice Potion. Why is it that Remus took off after class? The moon wasn’t for another few weeks so he wouldn’t be headed to the hospital wing. 
He found himself unconsciously humming the tune again. What was Remus’ reasoning for the song? Wait, he was writing while he was listening. Was that song the reason why he avoided the preparation for today? 
His eyes widened slightly at that. Wordlessly, he got up from his chair, grabbing his pack, and headed out the door- ignoring the protesting and curious voices of Prongs and Wormtail that followed.
Give me reasons to believe, that you would do the same for me.
There was no sign of Remus in his usual locations. Not in the library, or the courtyard fountain, by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, or the tree by the Great Lake- actively all the spots where he could be alone and have the Marauders come and find him.
Sirius found himself walking up the grand staircase to the fifth floor, lost in thought about Moony when a soft piano piece seemed to flow through the air from the closed corridor doors. Once again, he thanked the fact that his animagus was a dog. There was no way he’d be able to hear it clearly otherwise.
As he walked down the halls of the corridor, nearing the classroom, the piece grew louder. He recognized it. The song. But, this was different than just hearing the words of the original singer or the instrumental melody. 
Remus was singing? Not the quiet hums he was used to hearing, but strong and carefree. His voice was hypnotizing, melodious, and the song seemed effortless to sing. He couldn’t help but smile, Moony always seemed to surprise him. 
And I would do it for you, for you. Baby, I'm not moving on, I'll love you long after you're gone.
For you, for you. You will never sleep alone, I'll love you long after you're gone.
And long after you're gone, gone, gone.
“Give me reasons to believe, that you would do the same for me.” Remus sang to himself, faintly hearing the approaching footsteps of someone but it was already too late to stop.
“And I would do it for you, for you. Baby, I'm not moving on, I'll love you long after you're gone.” Another voice joined his own, one that was familiar. That brought a smile to his face, but right now made him only feel embarrassed. 
Pausing with a gasp and widened eyes, he quickly turned behind him. Sirius stood at the entrance of the classroom, leaning against the doorframe with a smile upon his face. Most likely filled with zero regrets, meanwhile, Remus could feel his cheeks beginning to flush at the fact that Sirius absolutely heard him. 
“Why’d you stop? You just reached the chorus.” Sirius said teasingly.
“Pads what… why are you here?” Remus replied with caution, pulling his hands away from the keys. The ebony-haired boy didn’t respond to him exactly, just pushed off of the doorframe and began making his way over to Remus’ side until he was at the bench and Remus had to look up to meet his eyes. 
“Well Moons, I wanted to find you. That, and you’ve gotten that song stuck in my head with your long hours of playing it last night.” He said with a chuckle as Remus’ eyes widened even further if it were possible. “Scoot over.”
Without waiting, Sirius placed his pack down on the floor beside the leather satchel that was already by the bench, then sat down to join his friend. Giving Remus a smile, he looks to the makeshift music sheet within the notebook, putting the melody together.
Remus stared at Sirius for a few seconds, stunned that he wanted to stay. Glancing down to their hands which were quite close together, he could feel the warmth radiating off of the other boy. 
He looks up to the notebook, then back to Sirius, watching as his grey-blue eyes scoured over the pages. “... Can you play?” He asked in curiosity.
Sirius looked at the tawny-haired boy beside him and nodded, “Mother dearest had a private teacher give Regulus and I lessons since I was five.”
At the look upon Remus’ face, which frequented whenever he spoke of his previous home life, he shakes his head. “I don’t play too often anymore, but I’ll make an exception for you.” He continued with a wink.
Remus chuckled exasperatedly, with a shake of his head, worry seeming to bypass for the moment. He stared silently at Sirius, watching as pale hands rested upon the ivory keys and began following the scale, then began playing the melody of the chorus. 
“You will never sleep alone. I'll love you long after you're gone, and long after you're gone, gone, gone.” Sirius sang softly, and it was Remus’ turn to be surprised. How much of the lyrics has he memorized? Enough he supposes, given that he had apparently forgotten to cast the silencing charm on his bed. 
When you fall like a statue, I'm gon' be there to catch you. Put you on your feet, you on your feet.
And if your well is empty, not a thing will prevent me. Tell me what you need, what do you need? “I surrender honestly, you've always done the same for me.” He continued, increasing the tempo of the piece as the chorus nears once again as he looks back to Remus with a smile and encouraging nod. Sing with me. His look said, and honestly, when has he ever said no? Or wanted to? 
“So I would do it for you, for you. Baby, I'm not moving on, I'll love you long after you're gone.” They sang in unison, voices melding together in a harmony that seemed rather perfect. Remus carried the melody as a guide as Sirius continued the rhythm. 
For you, for you. “You will never sleep alone. I'll love you long after you're gone, and long after you're gone, gone, gone.”
It was as if they were being pulled by a string, Remus found himself ever closer to the warmth that Sirius always provided. With a short pause, Sirius pulled his hands away and pulled Remus ever closer, shifting himself in the process.
You’re my backbone you're my cornerstone. You're my crutch when my legs stop moving.
You're my head start, you're my rugged heart. You're the pulse that I've always needed.
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating. Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating.
With Sirius now flush behind him, Remus couldn’t help but blush, yet he did not pull away. It was warm and comfortable within his friend’s arms, and he found himself never wanting to leave Sirius’ embrace. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, and felt the fast pace of Sirius’ own heart.
Remus hesitantly reached down, and took hold of Sirius’ hands, intertwining their fingers. Just to see how he’d react. When he didn’t pull away, he sighed in relief and lifted their hands so that they rested together upon the keys.
Turning to look behind him, he saw the soft smile upon Sirius’ face. And he knew. That smile, it was only for him. He found himself mirroring it unconsciously, “Sirius…”
“I know Re,” He said softly, almost in a whisper. “Come on, we’re almost there. Want to sing this?” Remus nodded in reply, and turned back to the keys as he began to play again, Sirius’ hands never leaving his own.
As the song began nearing its end, Remus began to relax leaning back slightly into the warm weight behind him, causing Sirius to chuckle fondly. What the tawny-haired boy didn’t know, was that he had been watching him as he sang with a smile. 
Teasing from James be damned, he knew he was in love with Remus. And from the way Remus’ head leaned against his own, intertwined fingers tightening as the tempo began to slow, after placing a kiss upon his flush cheeks, he didn’t doubt that Remus felt the same.
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating. Like a drum my heart never stops beating for you. 
And long after you're gone, gone, gone. I'll love you long after you're gone, gone, gone.
.
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koutarousangel · 3 years
Text
━ night drive.
prompt : the weight of the world is on your shoulders, so akaashi decides to help you remove some of that weight.
genre : absolute fluff !
warning(s) : surprisingly nothing
music suggestion : weight of the world - jon bellion, blaque keyz, you are the traffic - coin, take on the world - you me at six, my heart is buried in venice - ricky montgomery, get you the moon - kina, snow.
author’s note : this was a request by my very good friend and i stfg i had so much fun writing it bc i’m becoming softer and softer for akaashi.
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it’s a known fact that life liked to kick people while they were down
you weren’t really an exception and for some reason or another, your week had been horrible, full of stress, an inability to sleep and you just felt like you had the weight of practically the whole world on your shoulders 
everything was setting you off, so you were practically avoiding everyone, so that you wouldn’t lash out, fear of burdening other people with your problems incredibly prominent
especially akaashi
you knew that he was the best person to comfort you, but you knew that he had his own stuff going on, and he didn’t need to deal with yours too
but he was the best at picking up on these things; he’d noticed how your shoulders slumped and how you cut conversations between the two of you short, how you started off the night at the far end of the bed, only for you to subconsciously get closer and closer to him, searching for some form of comfort
he’d been trying to think about what he could do to help, but no matter what he did, it went over your head, and truth be told, he was getting frustrated that he wasn’t able to help you the way he should
until one night, he just decides to do something, anything … to see you smile again.
it’d been ten minutes of keiji’s eyes resting on your back as you kept your focus on the window, averting your attention when he’d first appeared in the doorway only to turn it back to the stars in the night sky.
truthfully it’d been more than that; a whole two days of trying to get you to talk about what was going on, only to be brushed off and told that ‘everything was fine’. it was driving him insane, not being able to see your genuine smile or hear your laughter. he wanted to help so bad, but he just didn’t know how. 
he cautiously walked behind you, hands coming to rest on your shoulders as he worked the pads of his thumbs into the base of your neck gently, hearing you let out a breath of relief.
“darling, put on a jacket, we need to go somewhere,” his words caused you to furrow your eyebrows, eyes looking up at him in confusion, only to be met by a small, knowing smile on his face and green eyes filled with adoration and a hint of worry.
you glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, “keiji, it’s two in the morning...” suddenly your chest was filled with guilt; he was supposed to be asleep but you knew that the reason that he was still awake was probably because you were awake, staring out at the moon in hopes that your thoughts and stresses quieten down.
akaashi grins and nodded his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek and patting your shoulder, “exactly, perfect time for a drive.”
the man definitely wasn’t taking no for an answer, evident by the way he’d already left the room and you could hear the clinking of his car keys. with a short sigh, you stood, grabbing your jacket from the wardrobe and slipping it on before joining akaashi at the front door. he almost looked relieved that he had managed to get you up.
soon enough you were both inside the car, his hand in yours as he drove diligently, glancing over at you every now and again to make sure you were okay. music was playing softly through the speakers and keiji was humming along to them. 
you realised that some of your favourite music was playing, and your heart softened at the fact that it was what he intended. soon enough, you were looking out of the window, while also singing along to the songs that were playing. the soft sound of your voice made akaashi smile, because he loved to hear you sing, even if your voice wasn’t all too loud.
he took away his hand from yours to turn up the volume a little bit, deciding to sing along to a part that he knew, courtesy of you playing the song one too many times when it was first released, and then every day subsequently after. the moment you heard his voice singing was also the moment a small smile began to break out on your face, and you began to sing a little louder, turning up the volume more and more, until the two of you were full-blown singing in the car, driving round in what seemed like circles.
the songs were loud, but your voices were louder, and had the road not been completely empty, save for a couple of cars driving by, you were sure that you would’ve been reported for being a public nuisance but both of you didn’t care, because the weight on your shoulders was becoming somewhat lighter, and keiji was hearing your genuine happiness return to your voice.
at some point, he’d pulled into an empty parking lot, and now you were sitting in an idle car, chests heaving as you finished belting out your sixth song.
the both of you looked over at each other and you brought his hand up to your lips placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles before letting your intertwined hands rest on your lap, a silent thank you.
“you know you can speak to me about anything, right darling?” he questioned, free hand coming up to the side of your face to push away a strand of stray hair behind your ear, letting his warm hand rest on your cheek. you nuzzled your face into his hand and nodded your head, tears pricking at your eyes as you felt your guilt rise to the surface again, because all he wanted to do was help, and you were pushing him away.
so in that moment, you let the floodgates open, and you let out every little thing that was nagging at you, every thought, every worry and he just listened, fingers intertwined with yours, thumb massaging the back of your hand softly.
after it all, you felt even lighter than you had before. keiji’s understanding eyes on your face, listening to every little worry that was on your head, never dismissing them or telling you that your worries didn’t matter. he wiped away your tears and kissed your flushed face, letting you vent everything that was rested on your chest; it made you feel heard and loved.
“i have one last thing,” akaashi spoke, and you let out a little breath, eyes swimming with adoration as he turned up the volume on the radio, before he stepped out of the car and walked over to your side, opening the door and holding out his hand for you. 
you took his hand, getting out of the car and letting him guide you into his arms, beginning to gently sway the both of you along to the music playing from the car. soft giggles flowed from your lips into the night air, as he twirled you around on the spot, before dipping you down, causing even louder laughter to bubble out, making him laugh along with you. as the song came to an end, akaashi had pulled you to his chest, his cheek resting on top of your head, your arms around his waist. 
keiji gently placed his finger under your chin, making you look at him, and letting the tip of his nose rub softly against yours, before pressing a kiss to your lips, stealing the breath from your lungs all over again. you could feel your heart flutter against your chest, almost as if it were excitedly reminding you how in love you were with this man.
“i love you,” you whispered as you pulled away from his lips, snaking your hand up to his cheek and you watched as the smile you loved so much spread on his face.
he let out a small chuckle, “you don’t know how nice it is to hear you saying that again,” he murmured softly, pressing another kiss to your lips, “i love you too, my darling.”
the drive back home was filled with more music, but at one point, akaashi realised how tired you looked, and he turned the music down, letting you take his hand into yours as he continued to drive, and the next time he’d looked over to you, he was met with your sleeping face. the stressed crease between your eyebrows had smoothed out, and you weren’t gritting your teeth in your sleep. you looked peaceful, and that’s all akaashi had wanted. 
he carried you up to the bedroom, setting you on the bed and removing your shoes and jacket, tucking you into the bed and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. as he was about to walk away to put the things in place, you held out your arms toward him, letting out a small whine. akaashi smiled at this and chuckled, kicking off his own shoes and slipping his jacket off, before getting into bed with you, holding you impossibly close to him while stroking your hair.
the weight on either one of your shoulders was to be shared between the two of you, you were each other’s crutch, strength and solace and at the end of the day, keiji would always help you get the smile he loved so much back to your face, and you would do the same.
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Need You Now
(Peggysous Week 2021)
Day 4: song fics; @peggysousweek thanks for hosting!
Summary: Peggy and Daniel are thinking about and missing each other while being separated by many many miles. (Set between Season 1 and 2)
Song: Need You Now by Lady A (listen here, this is my favourite version of the song!)
A/N: This is the first time I am writing a Peggysous fic, which is why I am quite anxious about uploading this, but here it is. I ended up writing something with almost no plot and a lot of yearning oops.
Also, English is not my first language so I apologise for all the mistakes and the misuse of words!
You can read this here on Ao3 as well if you like :)
~*~
Picture perfect memories
Scattered all around the floor
Reaching for the phone cause
I can't fight it anymore.
With a sigh, Peggy ran her hand through her hair and shook her head. It could definitely not go on like this.
Ever since he had left New York, she was behaving so unlike herself that even she found it hard to believe.
And yet here she was, sitting alone in her room, next to the open window, looking outside into the dark street, the shining of the street lamps the only light on that cloudy Friday night.
Daniel Sousa was gone, that was a fact, and instead of feeling miserable she should be moving on and should go on with her life like every sensible human being would do. After all, she should be happy for him, shouldn't she?
It was a big opportunity for him, becoming the chief of the SSR West Coast bureau, and why not take the chance if there was nothing - or no one - holding him back?
She couldn't help but wonder, though, about what could have been, would he not have decided to take the position. Or if she hadn't wrecked it all.
For a second, she closed her eyes, reveling in their shared little memories. All the times Daniel had aped Jack whenever the latter was acting up again, making Peggy chuckle. All the times Daniel had brought her a cup of coffee whenever she had been delving into the huge amount of paperwork that had to be done, that lovely smile of his on his lips when he had placed the cup on her desk.
And then, a certain memory resurfaced, a wonderful memory that was very dear to her and back then had whirled up the feelings in her heart.
It had been the birthday of one of the SRR's agents, and after finishing time most of them had decided to celebrate at a bar. While practically all of the agents had been either playing cards half drunken or playing a drinking game fully drunken, Daniel and Peggy had been sipping their drinks together, sitting slightly away from the others.
The two of them had been talking a lot that evening, sitting close to each other and really getting to know the other. They had talked about their childhoods, he had told her about his three siblings, and she had told him everything she missed about England.
And it had been that evening that Peggy had realised that she may be feeling something more than just friendship for that man in front of her.
But of course she had ruined it all and everything had gone downhill. Why exactly, she couldn't quite tell. Perhaps it had been because of her fear of falling in love again, or because of her fear of losing someone dear to her again. Or perhaps it had been something else, she couldn't quite say.
Her gaze fell upon the phone that was standing on her desk, and for an instance she felt the urge to call him. To hear his voice, to have a conversation like the ones they used to have during their little breaks. 
But quickly, she scrapped the idea and put down the receiver she had involuntarily picked up. It was already after ten o'clock in Los Angeles, and he was probably already in bed. And besides, she had already called him once two weeks ago, and once last week, but he hadn't returned any of her calls. For Peggy, this was a clear signal: he had moved on.
She couldn't reproach him, though, that he had decided to move on. After all that had happened...or more precisely not happened. No, she really couldn't have expected him to stay. Daniel Sousa was gone, and she had to get over it.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.
For me it happens all the time.
But despite her thoughts she couldn't help but wonder if after all, he still may be thinking about her once in a while. Because ever since the day she had come to know that he had accepted the offer, Daniel had never left her mind. Even though she had tried her best to distract herself.
It's a quarter after one.
I'm all alone and I need you now.
He had always taken care of her, and she had taken it for granted and had grown accustomed to it, not appreciating his efforts as she ought to have done. But now that he was gone, she realised how much he had grown on her, how much his absence actually hurt...and how much she actually needed him in her life.
And I don't know how I can do without
I just need you now.
~*~
Another shot of whiskey
Can't stop looking at the door.
Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before.
With a sigh, Daniel rose his glass to his mouth and took another sip. This wasn't exactly how he had imagined himself to be spending his first Friday evening off. But here he was, sitting on a bar stool at the counter, deep in thoughts.
The past few weeks had been very busy, moving to L.A. and taking a new position, a leading position, as chief of the new branch of the SSR, which was why he had barely had time to sit down and catch a breath.
But this had turned out to be a good thing after all, because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to bear the thoughts that he had been pushing aside into the deepest parts of his mind.
He had left New York with mixed feelings three weeks ago. He was excited for the new chapter of his life that was starting, and he was proud that he had been offered such an important position. But there were certain things that he was leaving behind that he really was going to miss. Or more precisely a certain person.
Daniel's gaze had wandered towards the door, watching the people who were occasionally coming in and out the bar. Suddenly, the door swung open and a brunette woman entered the room, walking hand in hand with a tall blonde man who was wearing a hat. As she turned over to her companion, Daniel could see that she was wearing red lipstick and that her nails were painted red as well. The way she was leaning against the counter, laughing while the man was talking, painfully reminded Daniel of that certain someone he had tried his best not to think of.
Oh, how much he wished that it was Peggy who had swept into the room that very moment.
No, he couldn't deny it that she was the one thing he was terribly missing since his move. If there had been a slight possibility, a tiny little chance, that she may be feeling that certain connection he thought he had felt between them, he may have thought twice before taking the job.
But apparently it had been all in his head, apparently he had been hoping for something that just wasn't there.
Maybe Krzeminski had been right after all. No girl was going to trade in a red, white and blue shield for an aluminium crutch, he was never going to be good enough for her. They may have worked good as a team, they may have even been friends, but that was it. Nothing more.
And even though being her friend wasn't bad, he had to admit that it wasn't enough for him. He couldn't just be around her and be her friend, it was impossible. The pain was to much, and he couldn't simply turn off his heart and stop feeling what he felt.
So the only thing left to do was to move on and to forget her. But this was so much easier said than done.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.
For me it happens all the time.
Two weeks ago, though, she had called. When he had left New York, their demeanour towards each other had been very awkward and uptight, which is why he never would have expected to hear from her again.
And yet she had called the office, two times so far, wanting to speak to him. He had been on the way both of the times, which had spared him the pressure of actually having to pick up the receiver and talk to her.
He hadn't been able to bring himself to call her back yet. Yes, he missed her like crazy, even though he had always tried to disregard those feelings. But would talking to her really change anything? Change the way he felt? And what should he have said to her? Should he just have talked to her like nothing had happened? Like there wasn't a 2.500 mile distance between them?
No, he may be behaving like a coward by not getting in touch with her and not facing her, but it was the only possibility for him.
There was a little comfort for him, though, in knowing that since she had tried to call him, she must have not yet forgotten him completely.
It's a quarter after one.
I'm a little drunk and I need you now.
It was a terrible state he was in, torn between yearning for wanting Peggy in his life, his heart completely having fallen for her and at the same time knowing that if he didn't let go of her, he would be feeling miserable forever. And even though everything inside him was screaming no, he had to forget her and move on.
"Great job so far.", he murmured sarcastically and took the last sip of Whisky. Of course he had ordered the very thing Peggy would have chosen if they had been out together.
Feeling how the Whisky was showing its effect and was starting to addle his brain, he picked up his crutch and stood up. He had had enough for the night. With a last glance at the brunette and her companion, he straightened his shoulders and left the bar, disappearing into the dark.
And I don't know how I can do without
I just need you now.
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