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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

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Fic: Swim

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: Yearning, Joel is bad at feelings and doesn't understand hints (or just chooses not to), female nudity, ogling.

Summary: You take a swim in a lake while Joel watches. That's it, that's the plot.

Words: 2,046

There's something about moving through the forest where nothing is heard except for the wind in the trees and the birds in the sky. The smell of moss and resin fills your nose, and the air is so clean it's almost making you high. The ground yields slightly under your boots, making it seem like you're floating forward. This is a far cry from the crowded quarantine zone with its downtrodden pavements and smell of dirty people. If you didn't have this, you would probably have put a gun to your own head a long time ago. But you do have this, and you greedily grab each and every opportunity to experience it.

Joel's breathing heavily behind you. The two of you have been walking for hours and even here, in the shade of the trees, it's a little too hot for comfort. Your hoodie is tied around your waist and you're in your t-shirt and jeans only. Joel's still soldiering on in his flannel. No wonder he's boiling.

Between the trees, you see something glimmer. Water? You stop and stare, Joel almost walking into you.

"Watch it," he grumbles, perhaps more to himself than to you. When he realizes that you're staring off into the distance, his hand goes to the gun at his side. You hold out your hand to let him know it's okay.

"Is that a lake?" you ask, pointing in the direction you're looking. With a deep exhale, Joel wipes the sweat from his brow before squinting.

"Looks like it."

"Let's go there."

"We're making good time," he objects, but you can see he wants a break.

"We're not expected back yet, and we need to rest," you point out. "I'm getting hungry."

"Alright," he agrees, and you lead the way, your feet even lighter now for knowing they're getting rest.

The lake is just as lovely as you hoped for: clear blue water, surrounded by forest and with cliffs on the opposite side, a family of swans swimming in the middle of it. You find a spot where willows grow right by the water, and their crowns serve as giant parasols as you go down to the water's edge. The water is refreshing but not too cold, and you exhale in a satisfied sigh as you splash some in your face. A light breeze comes in from the water, and you close your eyes against it, smiling as you forget the state of the world for just a moment.

Behind you, Joel groans quietly as he sits down on a small, flat rock and picks out rations from his pack. Biting into the tough jerky, he looks as morose as ever when you turn towards him.

"Lighten up, Miller," you can't help but tease him, "when was the last time you went on a picnic like this?"

"Who says I've ever been to one?" he glares. You shake your head and pick up a piece of dry meat from your backpack.

"That explains so much."

You turn your back against him and look over the waters. The swans, two parents and four gray babies.

"Swan babies are called cygnets, did you know that?" you ask, admiring the graceful birds.

"No."

"My mom taught me that. There was a park near where I grew up... there were swans there every summer..." Your voice trails off. You and Joel never talk about the past. And although it's been so long, you still miss your mother terribly. Thinking about what once was can be dangerous. It can make you long for something better, and there doesn't seem to be any light on the horizon.

"Swans mate for life, don't they?" Joel asks in a low voice that makes the hairs at the back of your neck rise. Nobody can drop down as many octaves as Joel when he speaks about things he really doesn't want to share - or when he's trembling with held back rage, fists tightly closed, ready to start swinging.

"Yeah," you confirm, your tongue suddenly a little thick in your mouth. "They mourn their dead partners, too."

He grunts something at that, and for a moment you are at a loss at to what to say or do. It has been clear to you for a long time that Joel cares about you, although it's easy to miss if you don't know him. But you do know him, or at least know something about him, and you know for sure that he wouldn't have been with you for such a long time unless he cared. The easy camaraderie you share may not be physical or affectionate, but it is one of the few good things you have in this world.

That, and the forest. And this beautiful lake with its clear, fresh water that glitters in the sunshine.

You become aware of how sweaty and dirty you are, and it's very easy to make up your mind.

"I'm going for a swim."

"What?" Joel raises a brow at you, and his chewing stops for a second.

"I'm going swimming," you articulate, bending down to untie your boots. Joel gets up, frowning in discontent at you kicking off your boots. You straighten your back and meet his gaze.

"It's not a good idea," he tells you.

"We're too far away for infected, and we haven't seen anyone here for days," you shrug. "It's just a quick swim. We're far more exposed when we sleep in the forest at night."

Joel can't argue with that, but he tries.

"There's other things out here to watch out for."

"What, Jaws?" you scoff as you untie the hoodie from around your waist, and throw it on the ground. Joel's grim face lets you know he's not amused, but it's too nice a day for you to get into a scowling match with his grumpy ass.

You pull down your jeans, and he averts his eyes.

"It's not safe," he insists.

"You're here, aren't you?" you point out, your voice a little more subdued now. He glances at you before looking to the side again.

"We should get going." His objections are getting thinner and thinner.

"You are more than welcome to walk on," you shrug before pulling your t-shirt over your head. "I can take care of myself. You dont have to wait for me."

"I know - " He turns back to you and notices that you are, in fact, quite naked. Your panties are in a heap at your feet, and you're stepping out of them. His gaze is burning on your bare skin and you bite into your lower lip as you raise your chin.

"You sure you don't want to come into the water?" you ask him quietly. Joel tears his eyes from your body, finding your gaze again. He swallows, and that tiny crack in his composure is all the encouragement you need.

"Or maybe you want to watch?" you add, a little leery, but a tremble runs through you body as you realize that you are flirting. And Joel is not scoffing, not looking at you with contempt, not running away. He kicks a little at the ground, almost looking at you sideways, but his eyes are glued to the ground.

"Go ahead, then. But make it quick."

The water is wonderfully cool and you wade out slowly, testing your footing for each step. The bottom is rocky, but most of the stones have been smoothed flat, and almost slippery with seaweed. When your thighs are steeped, you lean forward, push off with your feet, and glide through the water. You gasp at the initial coldness but your body quickly becomes used to the temperature. Your strokes are first slightly clumsy, unaccostumed to swimming as you are, but your muscles quickly remember how to do it.

"Don't go too far out," Joel calls from the shore. So he is watching. You glance back to catch his eye, but he's busy scanning the surroundings.

The joy of taking a nice swim on a hot summer's day is not diminished, so you turn around, treading water, and call back: "Come on, Miller, don't be a landlubber! You can swim, right?"

He looks at you then, face resting in the shade of the willow, eyes scrunched up against the glitter on the surface of the lake. You wish he could let the his face relax, just for a little while, just for a moment so that you could see what he looked like before the world as you knew it ended, on a sunny day by a forest lake, with friends and family, maybe lovers, or by himself, perhaps fishing, just enjoying life...

"I can swim, but I won't if you get yourself in a situation," he now warns you, and you sigh. Sourpuss.

"The water is really nice..." you tempt him, floating on your back and wiggling your toes at him. He crosses his arms over his chest, gesturing a finality that you just don't feel like arguing with. There's a part of you that is angry with him for being so uncompromisable, but you can't blame him for being who he is. If he wasn't who he was, he might not be alive, he might not be the one who protects you, he might not even be here with you.

You dive, arms and legs carrying you back towards the shore, and resurface, drawing air into your lungs. Now Joel is staring at you, as if your disappearing underneath the surface wasn't of your own volition. His shoulders sink a little when he sees that you're okay. Your feet touch the rocky bottom and you stand up, the water reaching you to your chest. Slowly, you make your way to the shore, your eyes fixed on Joel's. Your nipples knot under his scrutiny, and when the water reaches halfway up your thighs, his gaze drops to the dark triangle fully visible above the water. Your skin has cooled off but heat begins to pool deep inside your belly, traveling up your spine before dripping down between your legs. You don't stop until you're standing right in front of him, blinking droplets from your lashes, lips parted to let your excited exhales escape.

Joel rakes his eyes over your wet body, takes it in like no one has in years, like you had never imagined him capable of, and you have often imagined him as a man of a significant amount of talents. You don't shrink under his scrutiny, quite the opposite: you relish it. You want him to worship you with his eyes, take his fill, feast on you until looking is no longer enough.

He raises his hand, that rough, large hand that has pulled countless triggers, hurt innumerable people. You're not afraid, you've never been afraid of him. Palm up and fingers slightly bent, his hand is moving almost in slow motion towards you, to touch your breast. You wait, heart skipping several beats, and you almost flinch when his calloused palm brushes against your soft flesh.

Something rustles in the shrubbery behind Joel, who reacts in a split second. With one smooth move, he has pulled his gun, spun around, and is pointing the gun at the edge of the forest. Your legs shake as you take a step back to get closer to your backpack, where your gun is. But before you get to take it out, the lower branches of a bush nod, and a rabbit hops forward.

You both stare at the damn critter like you've ever seen one before. Eventually, Joel lowers his gun.

"Fuck."

You exhale in a strained chuckle. "Shoot it, we'll have dinner."

The rabbit, however, has already fled at the sound of human voices, and Joel is clicking the safety back on his gun before he puts it away. Without turning around, he tells you in a tight voice to get dressed.

"I want to be back before nightfall."

Fighting to control your trembling hands, you slowly get dressed and grab your pack. Stomping past Joel, you swing the bag widely onto your back. It slams into his arm, but you don't apologize.

He never apologized for bruising your heart, so why should you apologize for trying to protect it?

#the last of us fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #my fic

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poppywriter · 8 months

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❀ Pansy n°7 = My mind's safe space.

safe space - noun → a place or environment in which a person or category of people can feel confident that they will not be exposed to discrimination, criticism, harassment, or any other emotional or physical harm.

It’s quite easy to understand what a safe space is, but I would like to add to this definition that it can also be a person - since you’re with someone it could go into “environment” I guess. Personally, my safe spaces are my room and bed, my sisters, my family circle and my mom’s embrace. Those are things that can make me feel instantly better.

I know about these, how they affect me and especially how I struggle to live without them. Getting out of my comfort zone really isn’t my forte… :/ Though there is one place where I can always go when I need a break, a breath… It’s a safe space I created on my own to fit my fantasies and needs to help me calm down and stay serene.

I can literally go there whenever, as I carry it in my mind. Firstly, I created this mind safe space in PE in Highschool when we were doing yoga with my favorite teacher. She helped us a lot to manage our stress and so we did a lot of meditation at the end of her classes. And for this time of peaceful concentration, she asked us to find a memory of a cherished place or even a made up one where we can feel good, calm down and fully relax.

Loving to be in imaginary headplaces, I thought of creating one - it eventually became my waiting room when I tried to shift. The place I’m about to describe truly became a safe space for me.

✿❀✿

This safe haven basically consists of an opening in the middle of trees. The grass has the perfect height and is a warm tone of green. In the middle of the clearing, there is a huge and beautiful lake - that I often struggle to visualize. I’d love for it to have some sort of littler waterfalls and big rocks all around as if it was more of a natural pool you might find in mountains. But my brain keeps it simple, often picturing it just as a simple body of water - but I’ll work on that :). As the soft wind blows in the trees and the grass, occasionally making the water ripple, you can find under the shade of a tree, an outdoor bed. Its wooden structure sits directly on the ground. Its soft and pristine white sheets are the perfect depiction of comfort. Its size makes it more than able to hold two people and allowing the best naps of the world - well, imaginary world.

✿❀✿

This is most of what I visualize when meditating, laying down in this bed to release and concentrate on myself. I also do it when I try to fall asleep, sometimes - if not most of the time - I listen to quiet and soothing music with slight rain sounds, it really calms my running mind. Yet this place is bigger than expected. In fact, I expanded it for my dream purposes.

✿❀✿

Behind the bed - which faces the lake - the clearing extends itself towards a small meadow made of hills. Not too far from the outdoor bed, sits a medium size cottage. I don’t really know how it looks because it’s mostly in the background but I know it’s beautiful and cozy - probably with a stone façade. I love this place dearly. Many times have I pictured myself dancing with comfort characters in the tall grass in the white outdoor bed safely tucked in someone’s strong embrace. I just can’t help but feel calm and secure there.

✿❀✿

I think I’d advise everyone to have a place like this, to be able to retreat somewhere when things get too much and you need to focus on yourself. As I said, it’s also good for meditation times, though it’s important to know to not picture yourself with someone at that moment as it’s a time to pay attention to yourself and it’s really important to have those times. Taking care of yourself is detrimental.

I’ll leave you to that dear reader, but not without asking you what is your mind’s safe space ! Don’t be shy to comment or DM me, I’m very curious :).

✿❀✿

🔺Original work please do not steal or copy, Thanks.🔺

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dystopian-penguin · 1 year

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thoughts on culture and social media that english-speakers might wanna read

THIS IS NOT A GUILT-TRIPPING POST IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM. i am merely sharing a point of view for the sake of exchange, i promise! 😁😉

americans and even first world english speakers have absolutely no idea how it feels to be fully bilingual and engage in international social media

from time to time you will find yourself in an (actually somewhat serious) identity and cultural crisis that will legitimately start to affect your mental health without you even noticing. it creeps up on you and you dont realize just how uttely lost you truly are until something happens and you spend some hours heavily engaging into your own culture and language and then it just clicks. suddenly you feel lighter, your mind more at peace. and it sometimes it can go on for months, even years, without you realizing where that disconfort is coming from. feels like there is a mist surrounding you very soul but you have the hardest fucking time putting your finger on it.

now to the part it might anger some (arguably immature) people from tumblr:

i had some serious body dysmorphia (had surgery since then, thank god), and i consider myself somewhat NB. as in, some days i feel like the girliest diamond-simping disney-like princess and the others i am the grimmiest most charmingly roughish of victorian era urchins. most days are close to a middle ground, of course

im only sharing this tidbit to really drive home the point i am trying to make: feeling far removed and disconnected from your culture can be psychologically compared to being forced to present your body/gender in a way that makes you unconfortable for prolongued periods of time

in this post i will try to pinpoint and explain the actual core of the issue, where (i believe, from an university level of understanding of the subject) everything stems from.

again, i am not making this post to guilty trip anyone, for the love of god. to the contrary, i wish social media was still dominated by my culture (long live Orkut lol). it is comfortable. there is nothing wrong with being in your confort zone (with some small moderation), no matter what tumblr tries to tell you. the human race has been struggling for 30k+ years to improve comfort. hell, id love to have that privilege of cultural prevalence in social media, aint gonna be hypocritical about it

i just wish native english speakers, in special those from the USA, kept in mind our way of speaking, our sentence conatruction, even the choice of slang translation we use. none of that is truly 100% "unpoluted". a lot of times we are trying our hardest to get to a close aproximation of our native language "personality".

tumblr and especially twitter could be a little more patient with it. its is damn fucking hard to master the flick of the switch to another language, let alone needing to change your whole manner of speaking because someone, somewhere, think you might be offending someone else, somewhere else

english speakers are fortunate that their native language became the world's Lingua Franca in a way that was natural. not "forced" like french way back when, or mandarin most recently. english flows. english is easy. i freaking love english my dudes, i literally majored in english translation. but when you dont have the need to learn a second language, it becomes, THROUGH NO FAULT OF YOUR OWN, natural to assume some text on the internet is being written under the same cultural and socio-econonical optics as you were raised in. ESL has become so commonplace, even more so for the last 5~10 years, that its nearly impossible to tell what country that person might actually be from.

and therein lies the problem: assumption. different people do things in different ways. there are some that are better and healtier than others (including from, yes, "third world" countries) there are some that are boarding inhumane (including from, yes, "first world" countries). but the massive majority? its simply different. if it works for you and your family and your peers, then it works. simple as that.

but on social media you only have text. how many feuds have been sparked because of the lack of intonation in text? everyone and theirs grandma's parrot has a story of miscommunication when texting. but when you add in manner of speech and cultural traits to it, it becomes a complicated issue

and then we ESL speakers overcorrect. even subconsciously, we start to shape ourselves to the native-english culture (mostly american, for the obvious reason called "sheer numbers"). but its not our actual culture. dont get me wrong, the more you can incorporate different points of view in your life the better. fuck, god knows how badly we need this in the world right now. nothing wrong with implementing it in your daily life and even your own "personal culture" and ways. hell, just see my spotify to understand how much i love punk rock, an initially political/cultural movement that doesnt even apply to my history 😂

but as i said, we are somewhat forced to overcorrect. and THAT causes more anxiety and anguish than people can possibly imagine. youre ESL reading this and think its not that bad, it cant possibly affect you that much?

allow me to demonstrate:

i cannot possibly expect an american (you will understand why i singled you out in a sec) to understand why is it that brazilians bore no ill will towards germany after the 7x1 or why is it that this last world cup in specificthe fault was actually on the coach and what were his strategy errors, or why the fault was on the players in 2014, or even WHY the players bevahed so, etc etc etc etc. soccer football simply isnt your culture. i only know of Tom Brady's existence cause of Gisele. Michael Jordan? 98% Space Jam, 2% the Air Jordan murders way back when. I have only a vague idea who Babe Ruth is, and keeping score in baseball sounds legit worse than quantum physics.

i cant expect you to answer the diference between bossa nova and samba, samba and axé, axé and pagode, pagode and samba, samba and tropicalia, tropicalia and bossa nova. and which group of people founded what, and why, and if it was for protest what they were protesting against. i cant expect you to know why the first election against bolsonaro in 2028 was worse than sophie's choice for the massive majority of us. and why the second in 2022 was another matter entirely. i cant expect you to know what the word "caiçara" means (or even that it exists!) and howcome its a different ethnicity than the ones simply 70km away, and a whole other ethnicity with the same word if used in another state

then why do all of us ESL people need to fully and nearly college-level understand the insane intricacies of american politics? why am i expected to view the mere fucking concept of police as evil incarnated, through the eyes of a country that has basically zero training of their force? why do i need to think and behave according to an apartheid-influenced race theory in my daily life, in my own country, when im not even from those ethinicities? why do i need to see gender pay gap and patriachism the exact same way, if the foundation of families (and labor law, lol) in my culture is nearly the opposite?

i belive, like, 90% of the people reading this by now will have clicked on what im getting at.

because for good or for worse, english is here to stay. no, chinese wont take over as Lingua Franca, not even in the bussiness world, and i could quite literally write a monography on the subject as to why. no, like, i actually can, i have an university degree in it. so yes international media is in english. that boat has sailed, that horse has been shot Inês agora é morta

ESL speakers obviously know that. we had to adapt to it.

but how much before "adapting" becomes "submissive"? well, i dont know the precise answer but id wage around 6~7 bus stops ago

so all i ask if that native english speakers consider that as well. we adapted, so can you. we are speaking your language, yes. we are engaging in your culture as well along with it.

but its almost 2023. isnt it time to realize that the culture of speaking english might not be only yours anymore? 😉😝

we try to stay away from everything that is widly known as offensive, obviously. most people know where The Line TM stands for most english speaking cultures. i hardly see a quid pro quo in this, but as i stated before, i dont expect people from other cultures to understand the intricacies of mine. everyone is subject to commiting a faux pas, everyone here is human ffs.

the issue is that i see native english speakers being actively but gently corrected on an honest mistake, aaaaaand then doubling down on it under the argument "this is english speaking media". or worse, an ESL person also commiting an honest mistake but then being canceled for all eternity because it didnt fit the english cultural optics.

social media is for all. english now is, like it or not, for all. we ESL folks dont mean to offend. and more: lot of faux pas are not even offensive to us at all in translation. and theres some english expressions that sound wrong to our ears but we let it slide

i think its high time we all come together to a middle ground yes? we are willing to learn, we have been for quiiiiiite a while. but maybe, juuuust maybe, not every different way of speaking in english and point of view should be considered "problematic" if it comes from a diferent cultural optic, hmmmm?

as for the culture-privation anguish i started this with? well, if you spend so much time trying to pretend to change your very principles for the sake of not being unjustly attacked by internet strangers, it will no doubt cause anxiety (to put it fucking mildly).

do a "going back home" session. take an afternoon to actively engage in music and media from your country. no social media involved. im willing to bet with the craziness thats our world, whatever language you speak shit is utterly chaos there as well. meditate on the messages of the lyrics and the plots of the series/movies/books and everything else in it. no need to go on a full monastery-like deep dive, or even to do it super frequently. it aint court-mandated therapy, relax.

but you may have gotten much more lost on that path away from your roots than you first realized. and stopping to find your way back, even if for a couple of hours, will do your mental health so much good.

as for the english speakers, just try to keep in mind the point of view i have exposed 😉

no need to agree, no need to change. hell, truthfully no need to even keep in mind if you dont want to, i suppose. but not everyone shares you issues, strenghts, and optics. not everyone has the same life story, or even history.

and remember: at the end of the day we are all the same species, sharing the same planet. we have more in common than you think 😉

#jesus fuck how do you even tag this?#probably under: things that will get ignored cause of my pitiful amount of followers 😂#if anyone has any tagging sugestion im all ears #my stuff #my writting #just so i can find later lol

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millenniumspec · 2 years

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Dance Concept No. 2 (3?)

The Song & Concept So Far

I haven't really titled it yet, but it's pretty much, how Passion and Fear interact with each other when creating something new. I'll think of a title later.

Here's a link to the song, if you want, take a listen and see if you can hear what I do, feel free to add comments and opinions about what I should do. The song is 4 mins long, but I'm probably only going to use up to 03:17.

Personally for this concept to truly work, I would probably need it to be a duet, so that you could see how they were actually working together.

What I've Mentally Composed

So the start of the piece has the sound of a wind-up toy, winding up 3 times, 4 clicks, then the start of the actual piece. My two dancers, would start back-to-back, crumpled on the floor. For those 14 seconds, my dancers would start slowly moving upwards, then "click" 4 times into place. I don't quite have a video but, pretty much, it's meant to look unnatural, kinda like how the dancers move in this video.

Once the music starts (00:14), the dancers would snap their fingers (left hand) upwards, with their right arm outstretched to the side, look up, and slowly bring it down.

By the second note, (00:18) their hand should be directly in front of them.

On the third note (00:23), they turn to their right and lock hands with their partner leaning back, counterbalanced, with, their left hand circling behind them, their gaze following their hand, finally finishing back in front of them.

At 00:30 the dancers beat their hearts twice (the motif), but because fear grabs its beating hand, it breaks the balance between the two, essentially making them fall.

My Dance's Motif

For the dance, I would need a motif, and for each dancer, since they represent two ideas, they would have their own. I want them to be connected, as both of them want the same desired outcome, to create something new, one is just more willing to try new things than the other. To connect them, their base motif is the same, but there is ornamentation. Both of them would use one hand to beat their heart, however, "passion" being more willing to try new things, would beat twice, then reach out. "Fear" on the other hand, would be less willing, beating their hand once, then grabbing their hand with the other, crouching over it.

The Sections

I almost want it to seem like, "passion" doesn't like "fear", but soon realises then it wants to help, allowing for partner work that displays teamwork, rather than destruction.

Since I have to cut my sections down, I'd probably have 3 main sections, 1. The connection between "Fear and Passion", and how "Fear" keeps things safe. This could literally be "Passion" trying something, then being stopped by "Fear". (00:00 - 01:20) 2. "Passion" trying to do new things, and "Fear" occasionally helping, only to bring "Passion" back down to earth. This could be "Passion" trying something, being helped a little by "Fear", then being dragged back. (01:21 - 02:39) 3. "Passion and Fear" work together, and "Fear" elevates "Passion" (02:40 - 03:17)

Honestly, not too sure about section 3, but eh, who knows.

Space

In the NSW Syllabus, Space, Time Dynamics are considered the elements of dance, I won't go too into it, but here's a link.

Anyway, one of the aspects of space is "Active Space". There are two types of active space Dynamic space is when the space has its own qualities. Symbolic space is when the space represents something else.

In my dance I am hoping to use symbolic space, as the dance will take place on a wooden basketball court, the circle in the middle will be where the dancers start, the main place that fear wishes to stay, and passion wants to get out of, just to try something new.

I do also wish to end the dance in some sort of acro-like position, where passion is leaning forward, just out of the comfort circle, wish fear holding them back, grounded, within it's comfort zone.

Interactions Between "Fear" and "Passion"

Also, an example of something in section 2 would be this, where "Passion" is literally reaching, with the support of "Fear", but then "Fear" pulls "Passion" down, stopping them from reaching further.

Throughout the dance, there would be moments of conflict between the two, for example, "Passion" running forward, about to do something, but "fear" running after them, pulling them back, to stop them from trying.

I almost want it to seem like, "passion" doesn't like "fear", but soon realises then it wants to help, allowing for partner work that displays teamwork, rather than destruction.

Stimulus

So, for Dance, you're technically supposed to start with a stimulus and work from there, picking music last, but since music is my stimulus, and that's technically now what's supposed to happen, I just have to make a fake stimulus up.

And I think I have made the perfect stimulus.

*Ahem*, so. As I was looking through my dance marks from last year (2022, cause my composition is for 2023), I realised that I would have to be careful about what I would make this year. However, I didn't want the fear of failure to overcome my love and passion for dance. I knew that I would simply have to learn to work with the guidelines I was given. But then, I realised, why should I have to cap my creative intent, because of the fear of failure, dance is an artform, that is abstract, and any idea should be able to presented, which allowed me to realise, that I could make a composition about my inner turmoil.

What I Hear With This Piece

What I hear in order, when listening to the piece

Something Starting (being born? the wind-up) (00:00)

Uncertainty, but like, certain at the same time. (00:14)

Acknowledging one another, by doing similar movements, but the passion just has that extra flair (00:23)

Almost like Shock at what you can do. Maybe passion trying something, and being like, damn, I can do that? (00:47)

Maybe, like testing things out. Trying to do something and being able to do it. With, like, "fear" following behind hesitantly. (01:03)

Then like, having fear finally starts interacting with passion, almost like dancing around, trying to sway them back where it's "safe" (01:19)

Because of the airiness behind the instruments, it sounds like passion is just floating along while fear is literally pulling them by the hand only to get a glance, with passion ready to flit away. (01:41)

Fear trying to stop passion, but passion just dances around, or like takes fear by the hand, and tries to drag it forward, only to be yanked back. almost like a push and pull. (01:53)

Passion "lifting" fear, and trying to do the same. And when it does, they do some cool partner stuff together. (02:40)

Epilogue

To me, dance composition is telling a tale, it just so happens that my tales are always a little too difficult to convey.

For me to create a dance, I always listen to a piece. Almost every piece tells a tale if you listen closely enough, that is where most of my inspiration comes from.

So please, tell me what you think, can I pull this off?

I know, it's not a lot, but as of right now, I can't solidify this as a concept and would love some opinions thrown at me.

#dance #composition #help #dance composition #creativity #passion #fear #ideas #Australia #school #HSC #Thanks

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yuuana · 2 months

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youtube

Music Monday #241: Chungha - Eenie Meenie (feat. Hongjoong (ATEEZ)) release: March 2024 genre: Kpop cw: flashing, mild lens flare, lasers

Who me, playing favorites? Of course I am. Are we surprised? Not if you've been here for more than a hot minute, I'm sure. XD Besides, this song has been stuck in my head, catching me off guard any time it wants, since the day of its release. And not just because of the featuring artist, dammit. XD

Amused that the captain who insists we should only have eyes on him is the first to feature on an outside artist's track. Not at all surprised though that from the moment she started talking about it, Chungha had nothing but praise for Hongjoong, crediting him with helping her step out of her comfort zone a bit on this song (he has writing and producing credits). I wouldn't go quite so far as to call it pirate pop, but there's a fun and slightly funky vibe to the beat, at least partly from that string bass syncopation that's the grounding for the whole song. Chungha alternates between sung and spoken lines, utilizing more of her vocal range in the process. How deep a read you want to do on the song is up to you - on the surface, it's a girl power bop about having one's choice in boyfriends. If we look a bit deeper, one finds a call to know yourself well enough to know what you want and to not settle for something less.

There's enough breaks away from the performance of the song's dance to keep this from being a performance video as such, but I wouldn't say the video has a particular narrative thread to it, either, and we are completely fine with that. Instead we get three minutes of Chungha and her dance team in a variety of settings, from a back alley to the middle of a street, a closed coffee house to an actual sound stage. The choreography is looks deceptively simple in the way that it flows like water to the beat.

There is a performance video, like the music show stages, it's just Chungha and her dancers, with Chungha doing lip sync to Hongjoong's rap. It better shows off the choreography for that part that isn't centered in the MV, since Hongjoong was directed to just go with the flow and do what felt right for the vibe rather than worrying about specific moves. This was likely in deference to the fact that they only had him for a few hours -- the reason the music shows have been Chungha only is that ATEEZ's schedule has had them in Japan for most of the last month and in fact Hongjoong flew in (and back out the same day) to shoot the video around his other schedules. Keen eyes will also catch both the Crazy Form bunny move the dance crew does during the rap section (a move the choreographer specifically put in to honor ATEEZ), as well as Hongjoong's own Bouncy reference. Some Atiny have been quick to jump on the silver chain mask of the masked dancer as another ATEEZ callback, though it isn't exactly the same as the Z lore mask, but hey, close enough? And if that was the intention, then it's another sweet gesture from a seonbae towards her hoobae.

Eenie Meenie (and it's c/w I'm Ready) is available via the usual streaming options. As much as I would love to have seen a live stage with both Chungha and Hongjoong, I know better than to expect it. Still, a jagu can dream, right? ;)

Want to see Music Monday deep dives more often? Sponsor a song selection! For the low, low price of one (1) KoFi, I'll write up the song of your choice. ANY song of your choice. Yes, even that one that's been played to death. Yes, your obscure faves too. With sponsors, I can stop skipping weeks and falling further and further behind in the releases! Sponsor a current CB for the next open Music Monday slot or sponsor a throwback for a Thursday feature! But seriously, if you've been enjoying my selections and analyses, we (me and the foster kittens) would love a KoFi in thanks. DW | Twitter | Mastodon | Bluesky | Ko-fi | Patreon | Discord | Twitch

#music #music monday #kpop #chungha #ateez #Youtube

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k-reviews · 2 years

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QUICK THOUGHTS: J-HOPE, STAYC, WOO!AH!, JUSTHIS, AESPA & MORE

There’s been a lot of interesting projects I’ve listened to over the last couple of months! Haven’t quite had time to write out some reviews but just wanted to get some quick thoughts out there on some projects in a much shorter format than usual, everything has still been scored but the written portion will be less in depth more akin to my year-end posts.

[ALBUM] J-Hope - Jack in The Box

7.0 out of 10

J-Hope’s debut solo project is quite striking; Inspired production that is vividly textured, J-Hope is faithful to his influences while pushing himself as a musician and rapper. Though held back by some lackluster hooks and the surprisingly short format, ‘Jack in The Box’ is still one of the most interesting idol solo projects in years in terms of its sonic direction.

[ALBUM] Dok2 - Filipino South Korean Rapstar

7.5 out of 10

After the dissolution of the legendary Illionaire and Dok2′s subsequent distancing from the Korean Hip-Hop industry, he returns in top form with a new mixtape that is a reaffirmation of his position in the rap scene. An electric run of tracks in the middle of the tape is pure rap excellence that is a perfect example of why so many rappers hold him in such high regard.

[ALBUM] Woo!Ah! - Joy

7.0 out of 10

Despite a rather weak title track, rookie group Woo!Ah!’s first body of work is an excellent display of vibrant, personality-rich pop that covers a lot of ground while still sounding unified in vision. The girls of Woo!Ah! eminate charisma and charm through the plethora of sticky melodies throughout. Pre-release single ‘Catch The Stars’ may just well be 2022′s most contagiously uplifting song of the year.

[ALBUM] Justhis - Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night II

6.0 out of 10

Justhis does Justhis things on his new EP, it’s less of a cohesive project and more of a show of athleticism over an array of beats that vary perhaps a bit too much in quality. Justhis himself sounds as excellent as ever however, and the feature spots all bring something to their respective tracks with standouts going to newcomer GongGongGoo009 on the opener. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable EP, but ‘Do Not Go’ is a far cry from the artistic statements that ‘4 The Youth’ and ‘2 Many Homes 4 1 Kid’ were.

[ALBUM] Aespa - Girls

4.5 out of 10

The stage was set for Aespa to continue innovating and breaking boundaries, but they oddly play it perhaps a bit too safe on their second EP, ‘Girls’. The production is highly polished and there are some great moments, but the edge that separated them from their contemporaries feels like its been sanded down. What’s presented is serviceable, but there are noticeably more lulls and much less of an artistic imprint on this EP.

[SINGLE] STAYC - Beautiful Monster

7.0 out of 10

STAYC and Black Eyed Pilseung switch things up on ‘Beautiful Monster’, but what remains constant is the immaculate finishing and textures on their title tracks. The mix has so much depth, but it doesn’t feel empty thanks to great use of the girls’ varied tones and the song’s numerous minor embellishments. The hook is a showstopping moment, especially towards the closer.

[ALBUM] Ahn Byeong Woong - Hook Up

5.0 out of 10

Ahn Byeong Woong admirably steps out of his comfort zone, but the execution and his approach to some of these detours leave much to be desired. Boom bap takes a backseat on ‘Hook Up’ in favor of more melodic moments some of which come out pretty catchy like the buoyant ‘Ride’. ‘No Roof’ is something a bit more familiar, but easily stands as the album’s best, the energy between ABW, Khakii and Colde is thrilling. ABW occasionally has some rather clumsy moments like on the cloud-rap cut ‘Navigation’, a very underwhelming take on the genre. ‘Hook Up’ feels like more of a stepping stone than a properly fleshed out project.

#j-hope #dok2 #justhis #stayc #woo!ah!#aespa #ahn byeong woong

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allthatyoulove · 3 years

Text

A Heavy Feeling

Bucky Barnes / Female Reader

Summary: A fight with Bucky leaves you feeling alone.

Includes: angst angst angst, tiny fluff towards end, mentions of not eating

Words: 2k

A/N: A little angsty drabble I’ve had sitting in my drafts. I put female reader but it’s pretty general :) Please check out my prompt list! You can request as many prompts as you’d like! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)

~~~

These last few days have probably been some of the worst in my life.

My life thus far has been far from easy, but it’s hard to remember a time where I felt as low as I do now.

I sit at the dining table, using my fork to mess with the food on my plate. Silverware clinks against plates, conversations are lively. Warm lighting fills the room, the huge window allowing a glimpse at the night sky. Everyone is eating and talking, laughing and smiling.

Everyone except Bucky and I.

They know why, which is probably why they were quick to put space between us as we all sat down for dinner. I was the last to come to the table, everyone stopping mid-conversation to look at me with pity. I sat down, and haven’t spoken a word to anyone since. They had eventually ignored the heavy tension tethered between Bucky and I, deciding that constant talking would prevent the chance of an awkward silence crashing over the entire table.

I had told them I could eat in my room, that I didn’t want to make dinner weird for everyone else. They insisted I come. I couldn’t ask Bucky to not come to dinner either, especially when I knew how much he liked sitting down with everyone, taking an hour or two to enjoy the company of who had become his family. No matter how mad I was at him, I could never ask him to give that up.

So that led me here, sitting at the edge of the table, messing with my food. Bucky was sitting across from me, to the very left edge of the table. The farthest seat from mine. Being so far from him was probably worse than sitting right next to him. I only glanced at him a few times, which I was proud of myself for. He was in his black leather jacket, with a black shirt and pants. Everyone had gone out just before dinner, but I didn’t feel up to it.

Seeing Bucky come through the door with a smile on his face made my heart tighten with pain, before I became disgusted with myself on how selfish the reaction was.

He sat at the table now, not talking with anyone. His arms were folded, and he hadn’t touched his food either. Everytime I looked at him he was focused on the same part of the table, zoned out. His brows were dropped, his lips in a soft frown. His eyes were filled with sadness, almost a puppy look. I could feel his eyes shift from the table to me every so often, trying my hardest not to meet his eyes.

We had only been sitting down for around 5 minutes, and I felt like I was suffocating. That’s all I’ve felt these past couple of days.

I’d asked him for space, said I needed to think things through. He respected that and listened, hesitantly. He didn’t go out with everyone as much, staying in his room save for the times Steve dragged him out. I was better at turning down the attempts of them trying to get me to go out. I had barely left my room.

I knew he was hurting, I could see it in his eyes and in the way he carried himself. I wondered if he was hurting as much as I was. I couldn’t sleep at night, couldn’t leave my bed. Couldn’t think without him next to me. Couldn’t think with him next to me.

I set my fork down, sighing to myself as the group was heavily engaged in conversation. I became alert of every action I made, feeling Bucky’s eyes on me once more. I gulped in anticipation, not thinking before drifting my eyes to his.

Our eyes met, my own filling with tears. His eyebrows pulled together, his own eyes filling with emotion. His mouth opened to say something, before I abruptly stood up, picking up my plate and taking it with me to my room. I could hear the conversations pause, confused sentences being muttered before another door shut, a few doors down from mine. Bucky’s. He must’ve left right after I did.

They eventually continued talking, but I stopped listening. I tossed my plate on a table, almost breaking it. I paced across my room, back and forth. I let the tears fall freely down my cheek, bringing a hand up to my mouth to be quiet. I sat down on the floor, holding my face in my hands. Not a single thought went through my head, but I couldn’t stop crying.

A few minutes passed before I had no more tears to shed, quiet and dry sobs leaving my mouth occasionally. I calmed down, using the breathing exercises Bucky had taught me. I almost started crying again at the thought, but I had nothing left in me.

I sat on the floor, sniffling and breathing deep breaths. Staring at the ground, no particular thought staying for more than a second.

My head shot up as a soft knock came to my door. A single knock, nothing more. Almost a tap.

I didn’t need to ask who it was, I knew. I held my breath, staring at the door. He said nothing. I crawled over to the door, holding my ear to the thin wood. I could hear the thumping of his heart, feeling it against the door. He must’ve been sitting against it- on the floor as well. His shaky breaths went through the wood.

I sighed, sitting with my back right where he was on the other side. I set my head on it, producing a tiny thump sound. The same sound came from the other side a second later.

My hand went up to my mouth again, sobs threatening to break from my throat. It was so painful, knowing he was sitting with me on the other side of the door. Not being able to touch him. The sound of his heartbeat comforted the pain slightly. I breathed in and out, in and out. Trying to calm down. I lost track of how long I was sitting there, scared he would leave first. I decided I couldn’t handle it if he did.

I didn’t try to listen to what he did on the other side of the door as I suddenly stood up, striding over to my bed and throwing myself under the covers. I didn’t come back out.

My eyes shot open, sitting up. The moonlight shone through the window the size of my wall, illuminating the covers. I had fallen asleep.

My head had found its way out of the covers, as they now sat loosely below my ribs. I rubbed my eyes with one hand, running it through my hair. I sighed as I looked around the room, yawning. I spotted my plate still sitting on the table. I got up, grabbing it and walking over to my door. I slowly opened it, cringing as it creaked. I peeked out, looking both ways down the hall. It was almost pitch black, save for the window that was providing light sitting at the end of the hallway. The coast was clear.

I closed my door slightly, walking to the kitchen. The dining table was clear and cleaned, leaving no trace of dinner earlier.

I put the food into a container, writing my name on it before shoving it into the fridge for later.

I turned around, walking back to my room. I slowly opened the door, hearing something. I paused, waiting. I didn’t hear anything. Was it my creaking door? I went to start to open it again when I heard it.

Whimpering.

My entire body froze for a split second before I strode straight to his room. I knew that sound, and I knew what it meant.

I cracked his door open, peeking in.

Bucky was laying in the middle of his bed, the sheets below his waist. He was shirtless, his vibranium arm wrapped over a pillow. The image pulled on my heart strings, tying it into a knot as he twitched, his other arm moving at his side.

I walked over to the side of the bed, putting my hands on it to hold myself up as I leaned over him.

“Bucky.” I whispered. His face turned just barely, still asleep. Still in his nightmare.

It had been so long since he had one, I forgot what to do. I reached a hand up, setting it on his metal bicep and shaking it lightly.

“Buck-”

I was halfway through his name when he turned around, pulling me into the bed with him and flipping me on my back. I gasped as he put his forearm against my neck, applying pressure. His eyes had snapped open, frantic and scared. Violent.

My arms pulled at his arm, shooting him pleading eyes as I struggled to breath. A few seconds passed before he let out a sharp breath, slumping as he seemingly came back to his body. His eyes shot open even wider, instantly taking his arm off of my neck. I gasped for air, breathing hard and fast. His eyes shot between mine, confusion and sadness and regret painted over them.

I stared at him as I caught my breath, waiting as his mouth stayed open- trying to find words.

He closed his mouth, backing away and sitting on the edge of the bed. I stayed in my spot for a second, cautious. I was unsure of what to do until I heard a sob escape him. I instantly sat up, my hand going to his shoulder. I tried to pull him to face me, but he remained facing the wall. His head was in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake as he cried. I walked on my knees, my chest against his back as I wrapped my arms around his waist.

I laid my head against his back, listening to the sound of his heart and breathing deeply- hoping he would soon follow. He continued shaking as I soothingly ran my fingers across his stomach, patient. Waiting.

“I thought they had stopped.” He let out, his voice cracking.

“I know. I know, baby.” I said, holding him tighter.

A few minutes passed as he gradually stopped shaking, occasionally twitching as he copied my breathing. He picked his head from his hands, as I raised my own from his back. I moved my body so I could look at him from the side. His eyes were puffy, his nose and cheeks red and tear stained. I brought one of my hands to his face, bringing it to meet mine and rub his cheek with my thumb. He stared at me, at my lips. I wiped the tears from his face, looking at him with love. He returned it, looking at me as if it was the first time.

“I’m so sorry.” He said, his voice rough and filled with regret. I shook my head, rejecting his apology with the motion. He opened his mouth to speak again when I brought his face to mine, our lips meeting.

My eyebrows scrunched together as I pushed my lips into his. He didn’t hesitate in kissing me back, his hands coming up to hold my face, to bring me closer. His lips perfectly molded into mine, the salty taste of his tears mixing between our tongues. Our noses bumped into each other repeatedly as we messily tried to both apologize and profess our undying love into the kiss.

I slowly pulled away after a few minutes, resting my forehead against his as I caught my breath. We looked at each other’s lips, chests heaving as my thumb rubbed his cheek. His hand drawing circles on my back. I broke out into a smile, him following me. I fell on my side back onto the bed, bringing him with me.

We laid across from each other, an inch apart. I brought my fingers down to his lips, pulling his lip and hearing it fall back with a pop. I looked at all of his features, knowing them by memory but still wanting them forever seared into my brain. I missed him.

Being in his room with the moon casting light over us, wrapped in his arms, I felt so happy. After days of nothing but a hole where my heart was, I felt complete. I was home.

We had a lot to talk about, but it could wait. I wanted to enjoy this moment.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst

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littlepadika · 3 years

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hi angel 🥰 i’m just in the middle of rereading calling home !!!! i was just wondering, could you ever do a one shot of like sweet pea calming frankie during the middle of the night if he has like an anxiety attack or nightmare? i love the dynamic between those 2 and would love to see how sweet pea calms frankie 🥺

Hi bb sorry this took me a hot minute to get to. First off... i'm thrilled you are re reading my series! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: PTSD, anxiety, comfort, fluff

AN: This is early in their relationship. Probably right after chapter 5. Therapy also referred to in this drabble

source: @uuuhshiny

You blinked up at the ceiling, sleep momentarily thinning. You heard low muttering beside you.

"Frankie?" You turned reaching over to his side of the bed. He was shaking and sweaty under your hand. "Frankie!" You sat up, this time going to the other side of the bed to flick on the bedside lamp. The dim yellow light revealed Frankie twitching and muttering incoherently. Sweat clung to his forehead. His mouth was pursed in between a frown and snarl. His jaw was clenched tight. His whole body was stiff as a board. He was deep in a nightmare. You heard him say something like "no no".

You had been over this scenario with Frankie. He advised you not to touch him when he was having nightmares in case he acted on instinct and accidentally hurt you. But now that it was real, you couldn't just watch him endure a nightmare like this.

"Hey... hey..." You stoked his arm with your fingers lightly. He jerked away from your touch with a grunt. When he turned his head you saw that there were tears in the corner of his eyes. "Oh, Frankie... Wake up please. Come on, baby. Please wake up." You just continued to slowly stroke his arm, his chest, eventually making your way up to his face. He seemed to be calming down.

Then he abruptly sat up, scooting away from you reflexively.

"Wha-What's..." He looked around the room and then trailed off when he saw you watching him, concern evident on your face. He wiped his wet eyes.

"Nightmare." You explained though you were sure he already knew.

"Did I hurt you?" He immediately asked, looking away in shame. His humiliation mixed toxically with his adrenaline and fear from the dream.

"No. You didn't hurt me." You answered quickly, pushing yourself up, but you resisted hugging him for fear he was still overstimulated. You offered your water bottle to him. "Do-do you want to talk about it?"

Frankie shook his head, looking down at his sweaty self. "It's the usual dream. The helicopter crash." He shuddered, trying to pull himself into the present and away from his distorted memory. He took a couple sips of water and then handed the bottle back to you. Mentally he did the exercises he had practiced. Name one thing you see: Sweet pea. Name one thing you hear: A passing car. Name one thing you feel: Soft sheets. Where are you? Home. Home. Home.

You waited patiently through all of this, giving Frankie space to speak when he was ready. He took a few deep ragged breaths, his fists clenched on the bed below you. Too scared to touch you yet. He worried that he may have scared you off. That now you would have seen that all of his demons were real.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, sweet pea." His gruff voice was dripping with guilt. You frowned, not in frustration at him but at the stigma that led him to feel so terrible about dreams he could not control.

"Frankie...you didn't bother me." You couldn't resist laying a hand over his bare stomach feeling him relax at your touch. "I'm glad I woke up. I want to comfort you."

He sniffed, new tears in his eyes. He was still looking away from you. You understood. It was such a vulnerable state for anyone, let alone someone who had endured as much rejection as Frankie had.

"Can I hold you? Is that okay?" You feel your own voice shake with emotion. Your power and your love was limited with him not in your arms. As much as you knew your voice could move mountains, you needed to console him with more than words.

"Yes. please." Frankie exhaled finally looking at you, his brown eyes misty and wanting. You wasted no time climbing over his legs and pulling his face into your neck. His arms linked around your back, holding you close.

His skin, that earlier vibrated like it was trying to break apart, settled under your touch. Solidifying enough so he could finally sense each part of his body. Hands, wrists, elbows, shoulders, and so on. He mentally listed each one as it related to you. Your hands on his head. Your chest on his chest. Your breath on his neck.

"I have you." You promised, knowing the words would help ground him. "I have you. I'm not going anywhere. Just be here with me."

"I'm so tired of this." He whispered into your warm embrace. "I just want to be better."

"I know." You sat back cupping his face in your hands, rubbing your thumb over that patch of grey in his beard.

"I was doing so well." He continued to beat himself up. He had been so pleased to have gone nearly a month without any nightmares or PTSD. He tried to think of something that could have triggered him but yesterday was a normal Thursday. He didn't drink. He didn't have a stressful customer at work. He had sex. He showered. Sometimes there was no trigger and that was the most unsettling type of episode.

Frankie ducked his head, resting his forehead in between your breasts. He wished he could crawl inside you and away from his thoughts. His PTSD made him nauseous and too hyper to sleep. He was both hyper-focused and dazed at the same time. Every nightmare always felt like an omen that things were going to get bad again. He was going to start craving and then eventually relapse.

You rubbed his back in slow circles trying to coax him into a more normal breathing rate. A minute passed, the only sounds were Frankie's rough breathing and your slower one.

"What else do you need?" You asked gently.

"Can you- can you light the candle please?" He requested in a muffled voice.

"Sure." You smiled, reaching over to his side of the bed and pulling out the lighter. Your candle, already well used, was soon flickering brightly. The floral scent you and Frankie loved, filled your brain making sleep slowly start to edge its way in. You could feel his breathing slow. "That better?"

"Mmhmm." He grumbled. Something about the scent grounded him to this chapter in his life; the one with you in it. He wasn't that lonely guy anymore. He wasn't in a war zone. He had everything he could ever dream of right in his arms... and yet... this still happened. "I'm sorry, sweet pea."

"What for?" You tousled his hair affectionally.

"For-for being messed up."

"Frankie..." You nudged his head up so you could kiss him deeply. You let him take the lead, pressing him tongue into your mouth and pulling you tighter against his chest. At your quiet moan he pulled back letting you finish your thought. You didn't care how many times you had to say it, touch it, kiss it into reality: Frankie was perfect the way he was.

"You aren't messed up." You murmured, holding his eyes with your earnest gaze. "You're strong. You're resilient and brave. I love you because of that. You're like... a phoenix. You rise from the ashes." Then you giggled. "Sorry I just thought of a hybrid between a catfish and a Phoenix."

"Ha." He laughed shakily, tightening his arms around you. "A fish on fire. Sounds about right."

"Or a bird with whiskers." You snorted.

He kissed you again, relishing your little giggles against his lips. You laced your hands with his.

"I'm here to remind you to be kind to yourself. Remember how far you've come. I'm so proud of you, Frankie."

Once again he reflected on how lucky he was to have you in the flesh. Your empathy amazed him. It had from day one but his awe grew monumentally tonight. You weren't scared. You saw all of his brokenness for what it was and you only loved him harder. He had to trust your vision of him when his own internal compass failed.

"You tired, little pea?" He chuckled when you yawned cutely, after trying to hold it in.

"No." You told a small lie, just to keep him from trying to put your needs first. You weren't going to sleep until you knew he felt safe. "How are you feeling? Be honest, please."

Frankie searched his body with another deep breath. "Better. I'm just really amped up from the adrenaline. But go back to sleep, little pea. I'll read or something.”

"Mmm read to me?" You asked holding back another yawn.

"Sure." He chuckled. You rolled off of him pulling the covers back over you both. Frankie grabbed his copy of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue. You latched onto him like a koala bear and hung onto his deep voice. Frankie appreciated the weight of your arm on his stomach and head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat below your ear slowing.

Frankie paused his quiet oration to peer down at your relaxed face and fluttering eye lids. "I love you, sweet pea."

"mmm love you too." You breathed in reply.

For the first time, Frankie was able to go back to sleep after his nightmare.

~~~~~~~~~~

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#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #calling home universe #triple frontier fanfiction #anon #ask padika

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katsukavi · 3 years

Text

"OH SHIT!" part 2

"I WANT AN ABORTION." Sung Jin-Woo said abruptly, tapping his foot up and down from the agitation. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The baby is far too healthy and because of the amount of health potions you drank, it will be almost indestructible by our means. It even accelerated its growth.."

Sung Jin-Woo didn't think that far into it that night. He gave the baby's father an icy glare and took out his dagger from his inventory. "You can't abort it by your means huh..." he locked (M/n)'s hand onto the hilt and pointed it at his stomach.

"(M/n)! Stab me!"

"HELL NO!"

"Why not? We're already at the hospital, so you could just rush me to the emergency room when I start bleeding," Jin-Woo explained, but that still didn't make a drop of sense to (L/n) (M/n). "NOT IN A MILLION YEARS WILL I STAB YOU!"

"Fine. I'll stab myself."

"No!"

The doctor's face paled at the S-Rank hunter's lack of care for his unborn baby's life—even attempting to stab himself. Luckily, (L/n) (M/n) was there to stop him before the blade could touch his skin.

"Jin-Woo! Come on, you could just hold on to it until you give birth. We could set it up for adoption later.."

"I don't have time to wait 5 months. I could be leveling up using that time."

Scratch that. (L/n) (M/n) was also a horrible parent-to-be. The doctor forced a smile, wondering if all S-Rank Hunters were like this. He cleared his throat and stared back at them.

"How did you even conceive this child?"

"I have no idea. I drank too much. Hey, aren't you immune to alcohol?" (M/n) nudged Jin-Woo's shoulder, since he was the one that wanted to play video games all night. "I don't know. I can't remember much either. There was this scent.."

"I see. It must've been a heat."

"No? I wouldn't have left the house if that were the case."

"Then..." The doctor's eyes set on to (L/n) (M/n), making him feel a cold sweat. The man with red eyes smiled awkwardly, blinking repeatedly at the doctor. "Why are you looking at me?"

"It's incredibly rare but I assume you went through a rut, Sir. So I understand how you may perceive this as unbelievable since this situation is one in a billion or even more so." The doctor scratched the back of his head, trying to consider the rarity of the situation.

It was even more impossible if he considered the fact that male alpha and omegas were less likely to have a baby, then they were both S-Rank Hunters, both with their respective systems and (L/n) (M/n) had suffered from a rut that only one in five alphas experience.

[The Orion System is extremely happy!]

[☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆]

[The Orion System is wondering if it would be a girl or a boy??]

[The System is rejoicing for your offspring.]

"I hope it becomes a miscarriage. I'm too busy for this," Sung Jin-Woo said, glaring at his slightly bloated stomach. "Since you are a male omega, there is a 78% chance it would be a miscarriage if you're constantly stressed and you didn't receive professional help from us.."

"Good. I'm already stressed from this situation."

[The Orion System is ignoring your wife's statement.]

[Yay! Baby! ＼＼\\٩( ^ω^ )و //／／]

'He's not my wife, you stupid system. We're friends at best,' (M/n) thought at his system. He and Jin-Woo left the hospital with conflicted thoughts. (M/n) wasn't as extreme as Jin-Woo to forcibly kill it, but he was wondering what he should do next.

That's right. They were hunters. They didn't have time to raise a baby when they could be saving lives through dungeons. It's a simple choice of one life for one hundred.

[The Orion System is rejoicing for you.]

[The Orion System has contacted (totally didn't take over wink wink) the Player System for the child's sake. (*'ω｀*)]

[The Player System has agreed!! ٩( ᐛ )و yay! yay!]

'What are you celebrating for? Stupid Orion..' (M/n)'s mood turned sour, looking away from his system. Jin-Woo held his phone and pressed Jin-Ho's contact, making (M/n)'s eyebrow twitch. "Oi, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to contact Jin-Ho. He's the Vice Guild Master of Ah-Jin so he has to understand our circumstances."

"What? You know how weird that kid's imagination is. What if he thinks something weird?"

"I'll blame you for that then." Jin-Woo shrugged, his phone ringing for a few seconds before Yoo Jin-Ho picked up. "Hello Hyung-nim. Are you doing okay now?" Jin-Ho's voice made Jin-Woo smile, responding quickly.

"Yeah. I just visited the hospital."

"Ohh. Is (M/n) Hyung with you?"

"Yeah, he's right beside me. Turns out I have to lessen my work hours."

"I understand. You are the Guild Master, Hyung-nim. Everything is up to you. But why do you need to?"

"I'm pregnant."

Yoo Jin-Ho choked on his saliva, falling into a coughing fit as he doubted his ears. "Excuse me? What?"

"You didn't hear? I'm pregnant?"

"THAT'S BAD HYUNG-NIM! YOU NEED A FULL VACATION, NOT REDUCING YOUR HOURS!" The beta shouted, making everyone else in the office stare at him. What?! His Hyung-nim was pregnant? So he had a secret lover this entire time, and he didn't know?

"Then, could you decrease (M/n)'s work hours?"

"Yeah, sure. Why him though?"

(L/n) (M/n) hid his face in his hands, feeling so embarrassed that Jin-Woo just admitted that out loud. His own system was bombarding him with weird messages as well, it was creepy.

[There's no need to be embarrassed, Predator-nim~]

[( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). We all know what you did~~]

"He's the father of my child."

Jin-Ho choked yet again, throwing his fist at his desk as he fell silent. So (L/n) (M/n) and Sung Jin-Woo had been in that kind of relationship the entire time? Sure, he didn't know a lot about Sung Jin-Woo but even (L/n) (M/n)?

Is that the reason he joined Ah-Jin? So he could see his lover?

Then all those times they left together..

"Jin-Ho? Are you still there?"

"...If you need any help, you can call me Hyung-nim."

'Oh my God, so they were doing that so many times Hyung-nim got pregnant?!' Yoo Jin-Ho's face flushed as his imagination ran wild, smashing his forehead on his desk to cleanse his mind. 'I'M SO DENSE! I SHOULD'VE REMINDED THEM TO USE PROTECTION!'

"Yoo Jin-Ho-nim.. Is anything wrong with the Guild Master?"

"Ah nothing, he's just on maternity leave."

"What?"

"Huh, he hung up. He must've been shocked.." Jin-Woo said, looking up blankly as (L/n) (M/n) gritted his teeth. His face was red, mostly out of embarrassment than out of anger. "SHOCKED MY ASS! OF COURSE HE'D BE SHOCKED! AND WHY DID YOU TELL HIM IT WAS ME?"

"What else should I tell him? He politely asked who was the father."

[The Orion System agrees with your wife.]

[Calm down, host!! ＼＼\٩(๑'^'๑)۶//／／]

(L/n) (M/n) took a deep breath, rubbing his temples to soothe himself. "Okay, let's just call it a day and go home and sleep." (M/n) felt like it had sucked his life out of him, so he just wanted to sleep.

"I'll see you then."

Sung Jin-Ah was feeling suspicious for the past two weeks, noticing that her older brother's movements have become strange. At first she thought he got sick, but that would be strange for a sickness to last weeks, especially since he's an S-Rank Hunter.

"Hey, I ordered pizza. You feeling okay, bro?"

"Yeah. I visited the hospital earlier," Jin-Woo said, plopping down on the couch beside her. "Where's Mom?" he asked, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. "She went out to get something. So she said she wouldn't be able to cook tonight," Jin-Ah answered him.

As soon as Jin-Woo took a bite from his pizza, his face turned sour. He swallowed it and bitterly gulped a glass of water. "Actually, I don't want any."

"Huh? What do you mean you don't want any? You practically inhale this stuff!"

"It doesn't taste good."

"It tastes just fine, get over here!"

Sung Jin-Woo completely ignored his beta sister and holed up in his room. Confusion crossed her face as she gobbled up a slice of pizza. 'Something weird is definitely going on with him.. He's sus...'

The next morning, Jin-Woo got up early to do his daily regimen. But his fatigue had raised twice the number it had before. He felt annoyed from it and tried even harder, exhausting himself in the process.

'I haven't even done half yet?'

[[The Player System has cancelled the 'Daily Quest: Preparation to be Powerful'.]]

[[The Orion System has requested it to be changed to 'Daily Quest: Meet up with your Husband<3']]

Sung Jin-Woo wanted to middle finger the systems and ignored the new Daily Quest, thinking it was an awful prank from Orion. (That Constellation liked to bug them a lot.) So he continued to do the old Daily Quest, but he unfortunately got sent to the Penalty Zone all the same.

["Since you lovers don't wanna meet up. I have no choice but to force you! Hmph!! ヽ('⌒'メ)ノ"]

"I— Jin-Woo?!" (L/n) (M/n) hollered, his eyes setting on his partner on top of a floating marble platform. Jin-Woo was behind a translucent wall, safely protected in a small room filled with comfortable pillows, blankets and cute stuffed animals. Just in front of him was a coffee table with a full set of snacks one could crave for.

[[You can sit back and watch the show~ Daddy is going to go on a little run!! ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／]]

FWOOSHHH!!

On (M/n)'s side of the wall was a scorching, fiery desert, his shoes sinking in white sand as an enormous monster rose from the ground. The gigantic lizard roared, sending a breath of flames towards (L/n) (M/n) as he tried to run for his life. He screamed and cursed at the system while Jin-Woo watched from above like his Alpha was a gladiator.

"FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING?!"

"ORION! WHY THE HECK IS HE BEING CHASED BY LIZARDS?!?" Jin-Woo punched the orange wall, making it glitch for a few seconds before spitting his fist back inside the enclosed room. He could only look down at (M/n) with worry, slamming into the wall to attempt an escape to go help him.

[[HEY!! Don't help that idiot! He's a loser who doesn't even bother to look after his pregnant wife! (҂' ﾛ ')]]

[[You know what! Since he's so bad, let's go torture him more! Yay! Yay!!]]

Three more lizards surfaced from the sand, breathing fire like dragons. (M/n)'s face paled in shock as he retrieved his rapier from his inventory. A fifth lizard rose from where he stood, making him tumble down on the sand as it bellowed a menacing tune.

"UGH.. FIVE OF THESE THINGS?!" (M/n) shouted, burning his palms from the hot sand as he tried to get up and away from such a life-threatening situation. Sung Jin-Woo felt more anxiety for (M/n) and banged on the walls.

"DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE!?"

[[Don't worry~ He won't die. He can handle it! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b]]

[[He has to be at least this strong to be a wonderful Daddy of course. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ]]

"We're not even keeping the baby!" Jin-Woo glared at the cute emoticon on his screen and gave it a middle finger. He took out his dagger from his inventory, slicing open the wall and using the slight gap to escape.

[[Wait! No! If you get hurt, the baby will die! ＼(º □ º l|l)/]]

"Good," Jin-Woo said with a smirk, landing on top of one of the lizard's heads. "Hey, you need a little help?" he shouted after (M/n), riding safely on the monster. It only seemed to be hostile towards (M/n) and not him.

[[NOO! IF IT ATTACKS MOMMY, ALL HOPE IS LOST! ＼(╥ _ ╥ l|l)/]]

"Nah, I got it!" (M/n) responded, sliding under one lizard's feet and stabbing it's heart from underneath. Its skin was thick, but (M/n)'s high strength stat could make up for it. The beast let out a small cry of pain as his blade pierced through like a needle. He soon coated the blade in a reddish orange hued mana, poisoning the lizard internally in just a few seconds.

"Jeez. I was a little panicked. But I'm fine," (M/n)'s skin was harder than steel, like an indestructible material. Just like in the myth of Orion, he was like the indomitable scorpion that the legendary Hunter could not beat.

"I was a little offended, you know."

[Noo!! Predator-nim, I hate you!! ((╬◣﹏◢))]

[Hmph! Hmph! You big IDIOT! ]

"Orion, shut up."

[FINE THEN! I'LL REMOVE ALL OF THESE LIZARDS! ヽ( 'д'*)ノ]

[I'll be nice to you just because wifey's pregnant okay! humph!]

[Go kiss kiss fall in love now! I don't wanna see you be stupid IDIOTS! (҂ òзó )]

The lizards evaporated quickly like Orion made them out of ice in the blistering sun, making Jin-Woo suspended into the air. (M/n) reached out his hands and ran under him, catching him quickly in his arms. Jin-Woo could've landed safely on his feet, he wasn't that fragile..

But in (M/n)'s princess carry, he felt some sense of relief. Jin-Woo hugged him, inhaling a breath of his friend's pheromones. (M/n) really enjoyed wearing Axe Body Spray (a pheromone masking agent in this world) because he always met up with an Alpha female named Cha Hae-In. It was because of that, Jin-Woo didn't notice any of his alpha pheromones.

But with a whiff, he preferred this version. It made him imagine the fragrance of lit scented candles. It was a very specific scent that calmed him down. "Hm, are you okay?" (M/n) asked, making Jin-Woo snap out his momentary trance. What was going with him?

"Yeah, uhm. Were you still sleeping?" Jin-Woo took notice of (M/n)'s disheveled hair and casual set of light blue pajamas. "Oh right, I haven't showered yet.. Fuck. My handsome complexion!" (M/n) said dramatically, looking down to his lovely rapier covered in sand.

As much as he wanted to get it and polish it until it was shiny, he didn't want to drop Jin-Woo yet. It seems like Jin-Woo was the same, wrapping his arms around his neck in a comfortable hug. Yeah, they should hug more often. It was very comfortable.

[Yes!! NOW KISS!! ٩(♡ε♡)۶]

"Ew gross, Orion is back from a tantrum.." (M/n) set Jin-Woo back down, making a look of disgust. Jin-Woo also didn't like the constellation. So he joined (M/n) in spiting it with all the malice he could.

[Ugh, you guys are so mean! (︶︹︶ ||| )]

[It's like you're perfect for each other. (You are btw (^ω~))]

[I'll bring you back home now. (╬ Ò﹏Ó)]

"Oh nice. This is your room?"

"It's a little messy, but don't mind it too much." Jin-Woo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do in such a situation. He and (M/n) had teleported back to his house together, convenient for him. But (M/n) was still in his pajamas.

"Damn, I haven't even combed yet. How do you expect me to walk home in this?" (M/n) sighed, fixing his bedhead with one hand as he scratched his stomach with the other. Even though he just went through a terrifying experience, he was still tired and planned to sleep until noon.

"I mean you could run like really really fast. You'd just be a blur to normal people."

"But.. I haven't been to your house before.." (M/n) looked around Jin-Woo's room. Despite him claiming that it was messy, no clothes or wrappers were on the floor and the only thing messy were his blankets. This guy's sense of "messy" was on a whole other level.

(M/n) just leaves his cans of energy drinks, chips and bowls on the floor and leaves the cleaners to go clean it up. His appearance was the only thing that was respectable.

"So I can't navigate on my own. You know."

"You can use Google Maps."

"I don't bring my phone everywhere."

"You don't? I thought you were an addict."

"Your perceptions of me are so warped. What even made you think I was a beta?" (M/n) sighed, glancing over to Jin-Woo's stomach before blushing. He wasn't that different. He thought Jin-Woo was an alpha precisely because he gave off those vibes.

"Ah, it was your Hunter Wikipedia page. I skimmed over it a while ago.."

"My Hunter Wiki what??" (M/n) got confused, watching Jin-Woo take out his cellphone and search something online. He peered over his shoulder, watching him scroll down to the gender option. It actually said [Beta Male].

"That's really stupid. What part of me is beta?"

Sung Jin-Woo looked over to (L/n) (M/n) for a few seconds, his appearance to his language. Yeah.. (M/n) was right. What part of him seemed Beta? (M/n) right then screamed 'I-AM-A- DOMINANT-ALPHA. STAY-5-METERS-AWAY-FROM-ME-BECAUSE-I-WILL-ATTACK-YOU'

Then, he saw his picture on the wiki. Jin-Woo held his phone up and looked to his left and right, comparing the one in person, to the picture. "Now that I've thought of it, this is the first time I've seen you in pajamas."

(L/n) (M/n) was someone that barely swore, kept calm and wore modest clothing. But it looked like stress took over him so much it affected his personality. His mouth was foul with curses.

"Yeah, I mean the last time you saw me, I was naked."

"Oh," Jin-Woo blurted out, his face heating with that in mind. (M/n) quickly shut his mouth and looked away shyly, fixing his hair to seem more like himself. "Now we're in this situation, huh?" (M/n) mumbled, staring down at Jin-Woo's belly. It wasn't noticeable, but it showed a bump if you touched it.

"Do you.. wanna hug?" (M/n) diverted his vision away from Jin-Woo, a light blush on his face. "What made you say that?" Jin-Woo asked calmly, avoiding looking at (M/n). The (h/c)-haired alpha cleared his throat, extending his arms in the air.

"I don't know. You seemed to like it earlier.."

[Definitely you right now: Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→]

[(￢‿￢ )]

Sung Jin-Woo nodded, placing his chin on (M/n)'s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his torso. The same fragrant pheromone relaxing him enough to close his eyes. He felt safe in those arms, like he was under an unbreakable set of armor. "I feel like I could fall asleep like this.."

(L/n) (M/n) didn't know why his heart was beating so quickly, making his skin feel like they were on fire just from touching this omega. "We should hug more often," he said, rubbing on Jin-Woo's back calmly. It was fine for friends to hug, right?

But could we could even consider them friends when one of them was pregnant?

"Oppa, I think we ran out of dish soap—" Sung Jin-Ah opened the door, letting out an 'Oh' sound as she gazed at her brother. Then, Sung Jin-Woo noticed how odd it was to have (L/n) (M/n) there. "Wait, Jin-Ah! It's not what you think—"

"MOOOMMM!! JIN-WOO HAS A SECRET ALPHA BOYFRIEND!!"

"Sung Jin-Ah!" Jin-Woo yelled, squeezing her cheeks with one hand as she struggled to run away. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT SO BAD WHEN I SMELLED ALPHA PHEROMONES ON YOU! IT'S VERY STRONG NOW!!" she screamed and kicked her feet in the air.

"Hold on. I'm not his boyfriend—"

"LET GO OF ME, OPPA! WHY ARE YOU SO STRONG?!"

(M/n)'s voice gradually got weaker as he pursed his lips awkwardly. There was no room to protest in the screaming girl in the room casually being battled to the death by her older brother. He just gave up.

It was that quick giving up that people thought he was a beta.

"Oh! You finally brought home your boyfriend. That's great," Park Kyung-He said as she stood on the doorframe. She smiled at (M/n), then stared at his sleepwear. "Jin-Woo! You even let him stay without telling us?"

"I didn't—"

"Shush! I know it could be embarrassing to reveal your first love. Come on, dear. What's your name?" she looked over to (M/n), waving her hand to call him over. "It's (L/n) (M/n), Maam.. Nice to meet you," he said shyly, not even refuting her words at all.

His cute demeanor made Kyung-He fall in love with him already. What a good future son-in-law. No wonder Jin-Woo liked him.

"Ah, come here now (M/n). I'll cook you breakfast too."

"If you don't mind me intruding. Thank you.." (M/n) said, following Kyung-He like he was an imprinted chick. "I'll be there too!" Jin-Ah said, wrestling with Jin-Woo's arm. "Let me go, you jerk! I wanna see what your boyfriend is like!"

"I already told you. He's not my boyfriend."

"Why are you even saying that at this point?" Jin-Ah made a face at him and slipped through his grasp, running out of his room in fear that he would catch her again. "I caught you red-handed! Hehe!!"

[[(¬‿¬ ) hehe..]]

"Orion.. What have you done to my system?" Jin-Woo grumbled, walking out of his room with a long sigh. He could explain to them later that he and (M/n) were just friends. But sadly, he would never get the opportunity to.

"So, when did you and Jin-Woo meet? Was it nice?"

"Oh! I met him at work. He was my partner for a while. And you know, when I saw him, he was so scary I thought he was an alpha!" (M/n) was suddenly very talkative, amusing the curious Kyung-He and Jin-Ah.

"Ohh.. So how did you fall in love?"

"We didn't!" Jin-Woo butted in, receiving sympathetic eyes from his family. "Oh, so it was Jin-Woo who fell first. I see," Kyung-He assumed. He asked (M/n) how he did, but it was her son that answered. Their romance was very cute.

"No.. That's not.."

"Wow, I didn't think Oppa would be the one to confess. He's being super shy about it right now. How could he even proclaim his love now..?" Jin-Ah exclaimed in shock, looking over to (L/n) (M/n). He did provide the juicy details she wanted in a romance novel. Jin-Ah approve!

But even though he was the one who confessed, why is he suddenly saying they weren't together? Was her Oppa too shy about it and only stayed sweet in front of his one true love? Isn't that.. too cute?!

"Huh? What are you all talking about? Jin-Woo didn't confess to me?"

Sung Jin-Ah's world was then flipped upside down. It all made sense. Jin-Woo was denser than the Earth itself. If (M/n) was he one who asked him out, it would make even more sense! Their trope was... Shy Omega x Outgoing Alpha! Jin-Ah prayed internally to her lord and savior, KatsuKavi. She was in a romance novel and she could watch the protagonists.

"Oppa, you're no fair! How did you get this lucky with KatsuKavi's pairing rituals?!"

"Who?!"

"The author!"

(A/N: ignore the fourth wall. There is no such thing.)

"Ah, we got too distracted! (M/n) could you clear the table?" Park Kyung-He stood up, moving towards the sink. (M/n) nodded obediently and helped her wash the dishes. Jin-Woo was dumbfounded at his goody good behavior.

He didn't even clean up at his own house. What was he doing being so good with his mother and sister?

"You're a good kid, (M/n). I approve of you."

"Thank you," (M/n) said, chatting a little bit with Kyung-He until he could call her 'Mom'. Sung Jin-Woo gritted his teeth as he watched (L/n) (M/n) be the new favorite.

"Oppa, (M/n) is so good to us. How dare you hog him for yourself," Jin-Ah glared at him from across the room, getting an angry look from Jin-Woo. "Wow, so possessive.." she murmured to herself, skipping happily to her new brother-in-law.

Possessive? No, Jin-Woo wasn't being possessive. He must've just been jealous (L/n) (M/n) was getting all the attention. But when did Jin-Woo start caring about being the center of attention?

He looked over to his best friend, biting his lip to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. He wanted to scream 'look at me!', but he was so dense he didn't know who he wanted to look at him.

"Ah, that's Jin-Woo?! He looks totally different!" (M/n) exclaimed, looking through Jin-Ah's older photos of Jin-Woo. He did look like an omega before, but he drastically changed after becoming a S-Rank Hunter. It was like he was a totally different person.

"Yeah, he used to be so cute and sunny. Now look at him! He's growling at me for taking you away from him."

"I am not growling at you!" Jin-Woo argued, knitting his eyebrows together. He didn't know why, but he felt so annoyed being so far away from Jin-Ah and (M/n). Normally, he wouldn't care but for some weird reason, he didn't like being treated like air.

(L/n) (M/n) soon changed out of his sleepwear and took a nice shower. He didn't wear any pheromone masking agent, so everyone could smell his masculine pheromones leaking out. As much as Jin-Woo liked it, he felt a little annoyed that his 'friend' was being used as incense.

"Mom, did you let him wear dad's clothes?"

"Mhm. It wasn't being used anyway," Kyung-He answered Jin-Woo. She put her hands together, making a sad smile as he looked over to (M/n). "I think it should go to good use, you think?"

"Yeah."

"He suits it well, right?"

"Yeah."

"He's more handsome now, isn't he?"

"I agree."

Sung Jin-Woo crossed his arms over his stomach. (L/n) (M/n) was very attractive in his eyes and a fuzzy feeling would come when thinking of him. "I can tell you really love him. So don't let him go." Kyung-He coaxed Jin-Woo. His mind was blank, only focusing on (M/n).

"Yeah."

"Oi, Jin-Woo! Why did you smile so weirdly in this photo!"

'Ah, I hate him so much,' Jin-Woo thought as (M/n) made fun of him. "Don't look at those!" he marched over, snatching the photo album from his hands while Jin-Ah and (M/n) laughed on the floor.

"Pfft! I don't want our child to look like that!"

"It'll be even worse if it looked like you!"

"I'm a handsome bastard and you know that!"

"I didn't know you wanted children. I hope they look beautiful in the future," Jin-Ah's eyes sparkled at the thought of cute children saying 'Aunt' at her. She wanted to squeeze their chubby cheeks immediately.

"Wait five months, then you decide if the baby will look good."

"Five months? So you're getting married in five months?"

"What? No, I mean Jin-Woo is giving birth in five months." (M/n)'s laughter soon ceased into silence as Jin-Woo walked closer to him menacingly. He then understood why (M/n) didn't want him to tell Jin-Ho about his circumstances. It was so embarrassing for them to know. Now they're never going to let him give it up.

In front of his family, his face became tomato red with both anger and embarrassment as he crouched down to strangle (L/n) (M/n). "Why did you tell them, you dumbass?!"

"Eh?? I thought they already knew from how you told Jin-Ho from the moment we left the hospital."

"Shut up." Jin-Woo balled his fist and set it in the air, his other hand on (M/n)'s chest to prevent him from moving. "Wait, wait! Don't actually—"

"Oppa, you're pregnant?" Sung Jin-Ah's shock had multiplied by 900, so did her happiness. "MOM! IM GOING TO BE AN AUNT! WOOHOO!" She stood up from her place and fetched her phone with a massive smile. She was going to brag to all her friends all about it, wasn't she?

"This is a pleasant surprise. Jin-Woo! You don't tell us about anything going on your life." Kyung-He also smiled, half scolding Jin-Woo. He was already 24, so he could decide as an adult. She had no problem with it. "First, you're a hunter, then your secret fiancee, now your child? Hoo, you.."

Wait, why did secret alpha boyfriend evolve into fiancee? They weren't getting married after the birth of the child!

(M/n)'s ears were about to bleed. He forgot about it! But because of their excessive happiness, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with what they were saying in fear they'd be disappointed. So he could only regrettably nod.

[Yay! Yay! Baby!!]

[We're getting a little hunter!! (☆ω☆)]

Jin-Woo's complexion became pale blue. They were doomed.

#solo leveling x reader #fanfics #sung jin woo x reader

250 notes · View notes

surlybobbies · 3 years

Note

Professional cuddled dean and touch starved cas. Or the other way around.

im sure canonically speaking that they’re both touch starved but i think dean would be less inclined to admit it. cas is the cuddler here (though spoiler alert: they’re both cuddlers by the end)

Dean doesn’t get it, but far be it from him to judge Cas’s choice of employment. Goodness knows, after all, that “Professional Cuddler” is downright respectable compared to what Dean has considered doing in his 32 years of life.

Still, doing yoga in the middle of their living room wearing only a pair of thin sweat pants? (”If I have to spend my days in bed, I have to get my exercise somehow, Dean.”)

Completely uncalled for.

Dean beelines it to the kitchen and fixes his gaze on his goal: the coffee maker.

Cas, occupied with the Warrior 1 pose, picks up on Dean’s discomfort and incorrectly guesses its cause. “Keep looking at me like that and I’m going to think you don’t like me, Dean.” His tone is teasing.

Dean’s concentrating on making his coffee. He’s definitely not thinking about the sight of Cas’s back muscles flexing in his stretch. “Too early for this, dude. Got in late last night.”

“You sound like you need some stress relief,” Cas says. “You know there’s a professional cuddler living with you, right?” His voice is slightly strained this time, and Dean’s afraid to look behind him to see exactly what tempting pose Cas was in.

Dean takes a few gulps of coffee, savoring the punch-in-your-face bitterness, and stares at the backsplash. The thought of being pressed up against Cas’s body has Dean wanting a cold shower.

He must take too long responding because Cas’s voice is curious when he says, “Are you actually considering my offer this time?”

Dean’s turned Cas down multiple times before. He turns around this time and meets Cas’s gaze. Thankfully Cas is sitting back on his legs, his palms on his thighs, watching Dean. He’s still ridiculously hot and still fucking shirtless, but at least he’s not in downward-facing dog too. “Do I get a discount?” Dean asks.

Cas’s eyes are wide and blue, still a littie surprised. “Free of charge,” he says. He sounds a little breathless.

“Fine,” Dean says, lifting his mug to his lips. He’s hiding his heated cheeks.

Cas is climbing to his feet. It’s a slow show of the muscles in his chest and abdomen, and Dean’s suddenly not sure if he’ll survive what’s coming. “Let me grab a shower,” Cas says, rolling up his yoga mat. “I can meet you in an hour?”

“Your place or mine?” Dean says dryly.

Cas rolls his eyes. “My bedroom. One hour.” He leaves the room, his yoga mat tucked under an arm and Dean, helpless, wrapped around his pinky.

----

Fortunately (or unfortunately) Cas is dressed when Dean walks into Cas’s bedroom. He’s in a soft grey T-shirt and a clean pair of sweat pants. He smells like shampoo, and Dean’s weak in the knees as soon as he shuts the door.

“So how do you usually do this?” Dean asks, his knees at the foot Cas’s bed. The sheets are fresh, the pillows fluffed.

Cas sits down on the left side. “Usually I introduce myself. I ask about comfort zones and boundaries. I remind them that there is no judgement. Then I make a joke if I think they need it.”

“Do I need it?” Dean asks.

Cas is smiling. “You do seem a little tense.”

“That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

Cas pats the mattress. “Climb in, then.”

Dean does. He’s terrified, but he does. He lays his head on his pillow and faces the ceiling.

Cas joins him shortly, but he doesn’t touch Dean yet. He turns on his side to face Dean and asks, “Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with or unwilling to try?”

“Dude, so long as you aren’t grabbing my junk I think we’ll be fine.” Dean doesn’t mean to be so crude but he’s in Cas’s bed, and if he’s going to be thinking about his junk, it’s definitely going to be here.

“Hands above the waist,” Cas says, a faint smile on his lips. “Of course.” He lifts his arm: an offer. “Shall we?” he asks.

If Dean were a poet he’d describe the feeling of Cas’s embrace wrapping around him as the feeling of coming home. But he isn’t a poet, so he just sighs into it and nestles his face into the crook of Cas’s neck. He’s being sappy, he’s being embarrassing, but Cas’s arms are locked tight around Dean’s back like he never wants to let Dean go - so Dean closes his eyes and pretends that’s possible.

“Usually I instruct my clients in better ways to cuddle,” Cas says, “but I think you and I can work with this.”

Dean both hears and feels Cas’s voice against his ear, and if he moved his face just a little forward, he could press a kiss to Cas’s throat, the origin of every loving word Dean has heard over the past two years. “’Better ways to cuddle’?” he asks, a murmur against Cas’s neck. “This not good enough for you?”

Cas’s shiver is easy to detect. He swallows. “On the contrary,” he says, “I think this is my favorite position now.”

Every sign in the universe is screaming at Dean to make a move, so he does it without sparing a thought for the repercussions: he takes a steadying breath and presses his lips to Cas’s neck. It’s impossible to mistake as anything other than what it is: a kiss, and one that lingers.

Cas sucks in a breath at the contact. His arms tighten around Dean reflexively. Dean can feel the nervous movement of Cas’s throat against his lips. After a moment’s pause, Cas says breathlessly, “I take it back; I can think of one better.”

Dean’s face is aflame, but he lets Cas tilt his chin up with a hand.

Cas takes a moment to gauge Dean’s reaction. Whatever he sees must be a dead giveaway, because Cas’s eyes soften. His hand skates down Dean’s arm, a comforting, grounding warmth. He leans in and kisses Dean softly.

Dean kisses back. It’s suddenly everything to be in Cas’s hands, to be in Cas’s life, knowing he would only ever touch Dean with love. Dean pours his gratitude into his kiss and swears on all the deities listening that he’ll do everything in his power to make Cas feel as loved as Dean feels in this moment.

He draws back first, but only because it’s too much. He has to hide his embarrassment in Cas’s neck again. “Do that with all your clients?”

It’s a joke, but Cas’s reply is immediate and sincere: “Just you.” He kisses Dean’s temple and holds him tighter.

“Good,” Dean mumbles. Then he says, more softly than he means to, “We gonna do that again?”

“Only if you want to,” Cas says.

“Do you want to?” Dean doesn’t know why he needs to hear confirmation, but he holds his breath and clutches Cas’s shirt, silently begging.

“I’ve wanted to for as long as I can remember.” There’s only truth in Cas’s voice.

Dean relaxes into Cas’s hold. He breathes easy and presses closer. “I hope you’re ready to work some overtime, then,” he says.

“It’s hardly work to be cuddling you, Dean.” Cas is smiling; Dean can hear the love in it.

They stay in bed cuddling the rest of the day.

---------

tag list:

@super-powerful-queen-slayyna @lifeisingrey @crisp-tiger-riot @fangirlingtodeath513 @levicastho @dmsilvisart @hello-vague-stuff @bold-sartorial-statement @massivefaceperson-blog @livebloggingmydescentintomadness @shelterfr0mthestorm @neo-neo-neo @elegybot

#destiel fic #destiel #prompt fic #deancas #deancas fic #spn fic #kc fic #Anonymous #sorry if you're waiting for the third part of the emoji ficlet thing #it's coming don't worry #but i liked this prompt #thank you!!!

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Hey, if you take requests, can I ask Eric x Reader where he’s obsessed with her? Ps. "Stiff, huh?" Is so intense ... Eric is wow

I do take requests! Thank you for leaving this, it was fun to write! I hope this is alright! And I'm glad you enjoyed the other fic 😊💛💛

I'll Cover You.

Eric Coulter x reader

Warnings: swearing, injury, blood, violence, gun use

Masterlist

A yelp inadvertently escapes me as a sharp bolt of pain goes through my right hand, my punch falling short as I flinch back in surprise. Biting my lip, I shake my hand, glancing around at the other initiates nearby, thankful that no one has noticed my brief moment of weakness. Discreetly, I unfold my fist and examine it, trying to discern exactly what caused the sudden discomfort, looking over the purple bruising dusting my knuckles, as well as the grazes adorning the same areas. I frown, unsure of what happened. Shaking it off, I simply get back into position and go to strike the punchbag again, tensing my core before I do anything.

A stern voice interrupts me, however, as a familiar figure steps up beside me.

"Take your thumb out of your fist, initiate." Eric commands, staring me down with his icy blue eyes.

"S-sorry?" I stutter, unsure of what he means as I look down at my fists.

He rolls his eyes and sighs, forming a fist with his own hand.

"Like this. It's not hard." He shows me, gesturing to my own hands.

Trying not to look at his bulging muscles, I observe his hand and copy it, only now realising what he meant.

"Never punch with your thumb in your fist, or you'll end up breaking it. Wouldn't be a great start, would it?" Are his only words before he stalks off, going to watch over some other initiate, leaving me blinking in his wake.

Keeping my hands as he showed me, I start beating the bag again, ignoring the slight stinging from the grazes as I work on the efficiency of my blows. With each punch, I make sure to hold my composure, stepping back from the bag as if my opponent were retaliating, keeping my eyes trained on it, so much so that I completely zone out the area around me. That is until I hear my name being called.

"(Y/n)! Kai! In the ring, now!" Eric orders us, voice resonating around the training area as it always does, his authority lacing his tone.

Swallowing nervously, I cautiously walk over to the raised platform, terrified at the thought of facing off with this particular initiate. People stare as I climb up, their eyes roaming over my body critically, comparing me with the hugely muscular boy across from me. Kai is massive in every sense of the word: bulging muscular arms, visibly toned torso, thighs like pillars and with a towering height that looms over the tallest of people. Surprisingly, however, his personality is much softer, the guy being relatively friendly with everyone, only really using his strength (gained from hard work in the Amity fields) for good use; he almost always apologizes for hurting someone. As I square up to him, I feel myself becoming more and more nervous by the minute, his fists easily the size of two of mine, but I ignore the rising sense of dread and wait for Eric to start us off.

"Go." The leader simply grunts, watching closely as we start circling each other.

Controlling my breathing, I move my weight onto the balls of my feet and hold my arms over my body, providing some protection from the oncoming onslaught of blows. Judging his step, I make eye contact with Kai briefly before suddenly ducking into his space and jabbing my fist out at his lower abdomen, striking his rock-hard abs with some force. Instantly, I recoil back out of reach, prepared for some form of retaliation in reaction to the blow, somewhat surprised when he shows minimal pain. Distracted by this, I quickly receive a blow to the stomach, having left it unguarded from my previous attack, the breath leaving me as his knuckles make contact. Grunting, I stumble backwards, ducking over my body to protect myself, only to accidentally make myself into an easier target as he grabs hold of my head and smashes my face into his lifted knee. Tears spring to my eyes as my nose audibly crunches, blood starting to pour from it as I begin to lose some focus, the pain raising in my face very disconcerting.

With my head still in his hands, I feel him lift it again for yet another blow with his knee, my mind racing as I jerk out my arm and jab it into the space between his thighs. A grunt escapes him at this, instinctively releasing me as he goes to protect his intimate regions. Relieved, I slip out of his reach and readjust, taking note of his slightly hunched position. Moving swiftly, I get closer and swing my leg round in a sharp kick to his jaw, throwing his head to the side painfully, the muscular boy spitting out a mouthful of blood as he goes, one of his teeth coming loose from the sudden impact. Triumphant, I go to repeat the action, only to find my leg grabbed by him, his hand closing around my limb tightly. Smirking, he quickly uses this hold on my leg to pull my feet out from under me, easily throwing me over his shoulder and smashing me into the ground, pain blossoming in my chest as it collides. Winded, I lie there, only just managing to twist onto my back as he lifts a foot over my head, ready to kick me into unconsciousness.

"Stop." Eric's cool voice interrupts us both, breaking through the haze.

Both our heads snap round to look at him, my vision spinning as I do so, confused as I stare at our leader through blurry eyes.

"Go to the infirmary and get yourselves fixed up. Now." He commands us, turning away from us and going to stand a little way away.

As soon as his back is turned, Kai crouches down to my level and offers me a hand, grey eyes clouded with concern.

"You alright? I'm sorry, I went too far." He says, helping me upright, slipping his arm around my back and lending me his shoulder to get me walking.

"It's fine, Kai, don't worry. It's what we're supposed to do, after all. I'm sorry about hitting you...there." I apologise, wincing as my chest heaves slightly, my ribs clearly bruised.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine."

As we walk, neither of us notice Eric's eyes following us out of the room.

For once, I don't barely climb onto the train as I speeds by, my arms somehow managing to pull me inside with time to spare, a smile working its way onto my face in triumph. Usually, I seem to struggle with having the distance, but tonight I managed it with some ease, meaning I didn't have to embarrass myself under the watchful eyes of Eric, who stares down at me as I straighten again. As always, his face is blank, his arms folded tightly across his chest, his muscles straining under the fabric of his coat. Suppressing the smile on my face, I bite my lip and look away, ignoring the slight twitch of his brow as he looks me over, eyeing me carefully as I go to stand with Kai, who has quickly become a good friend of mine, the huge boy turning out to be very caring and enjoyable to have around.

"Where do you think we're going?" The brunette asks me as I go to lean on the wall beside him.

Shrugging, I watch as the rest of the initiates join us, the Dauntless-born easily springing onto the moving train whilst the others, like Kai and I, struggle a little. Four is last to hop up, as always.

"I don't know." I inform my friend, looking to the bags at Eric's feet.

"Well, if you wait patiently, you might just find out." Eric suddenly bites out, his gaze fixed on the two of us.

Surprised, we both now, exchanging a glance between us.

"Oops." I mutter to him, falling silent as we watch the leader step forwards into the middle of the initiates.

"We're gonna play some Capture the Flag tonight. Four and I will each lead a team, each of which hides a flag and has to defend it. First team to get the opposing flag wins." He explains briefly, bending to unzip one of the bags at his feet, pulling out a type of gun I've never seen before, "You'll each get one of these. They're loaded with neurostim darts, which will simulate the pain of a gunshot wound without actually injuring you. They hurt like a bitch, so watch yourselves."

As he says this, Eric allows his eyes to fall on Kai and I, narrowing them as he finds my friend.

"Ok, Eric and I will now pick our teams. Eric will go first." Four chips in, gesturing for the leader to start.

"I'll take (Y/n)." He chooses, staring at me as I double take in surprise. Dumbfounded, I nod once, signifying that I heard him.

Four appears surprised momentarily, before he blinks and chooses one of the Dauntless-born.

Five minutes later and we've all been picked for a team, each of us sidling over towards our corresponding team leader as the train starts to come to a slowed pace. Kai was picked for Four's team, so I shoot him one last look before going to stand with the rest of Eric's team, taking one of the proffered guns and comfortably resting it against my hip, keeping the safety on for now. Looking up, I make eye contact with the stern leader, just catching his eye before he quickly glances away, saying something to Four as we prepare to leave the train, having been told to do so.

Without warning, Eric and Four throw themselves from the vehicle, landing somewhere in the darkness as the rest of us follow hastily, unwilling to be left on the train. Slinging the gun over my shoulder, I launch myself into the black night, my feet colliding with the ground seconds later, causing me to roll to absorb the shock, my hands scraping slightly on the uneven gravel. I'm quick to right myself, however, taking the gun off of my shoulder as I take out my torch and light it, easily locating Eric and going to stand with him. The rest of the team joins us and we leave the main area, walking for a few minutes until Eric stops.

"We'll need a tactic. Four is good at this, but I've beaten him most times so we need to make sure we don't lose to him tonight, got it?" The leader briefs us, holding out the luminescent flag to one of the Dauntless-born, "Go hide this in that old ticket booth over there. It's easy enough to defend and it's hard for them to find. The rest of you, find somewhere to hide around it. (Y/n), you're coming with me."

Surprised, I look at him but agree anyway, glad to have some alone time with the leader, watching as he elects one of the more experienced initiates to take charge of the defending team, before he signals for me to follow him. Taking the safety off my gun, I do so, keeping my footfall light and gentle, staying low to the ground to avoid being seen. Eric does the same, his movements calculated and practiced, his muscular frame somehow managing to step stealthily over the uneven ground.

"What did you want me for?" I hiss at him, keeping an eye out for any attackers.

"I need you to climb that tower and locate their flag. And you have the best aim, so I'm gonna need you to snipe out any guards if you can, so that you can then go in and get it." He whispers back, pointing to a nearby tower.

Frowning, I go to respond.

"And what about you?"

"I'll cover you, obviously." He replies matter-of-factly.

"Right."

As we approach the tower, he breaks off and goes to hide behind a nearby dumpster, reinforcing his plan to me as he does so, expecting me to scale the riveted wall of the abandoned structure by hand. Swallowing, I replace the gun over my shoulders and look over the rough surface before me, wondering how the hell I'm ever going to pull this off. Finding a handhold, I start ascending, using the marks to my advantage as I hoist myself higher and higher, ignoring the aching protests of my arms. Grazes litter my fingertips, my muscles trembling with each pull up, the gun knocking gently against my lower back.

It takes me a few minutes, but soon I'm high enough that I can see the area around us, my eyes roaming the dark area with scrutiny, looking out for the fluorescent flag. I spot it easily, the colourful fabric glowing brightly on top of another nearby tower, just a little way away, a figure guarding it alone, though there are most likely others at the base of the structure.

A sudden cry of pain snaps my attention down to the ground again, my eyes swiftly finding the silhouette of a body lying on the floor, Eric swiftly moving out to make sure the threat stays down, his fun levelled in preparation. Upon seeing this, I start climbing back down, spotting another three oncoming opponents just a little way away from us, their voices somewhat raised. Taking note of this, I hasten down, managing to hop down in time to face off with the newcomers, who are faced with a swift barrage of darts. Two fall, clutching at their legs in pain, the third taking a little more to neutralize before he too drops to the floor, squirming in agony.

"You find it?" Eric questions me, secretly checking me over for any injury in the darkness, aware that he can't really see much

"Yeah, it's this way." Turning, the two of us run in the direction of the other tower, thankfully staying clear of any enemies until we reach the low wall surrounding the structure. Circling it, we soon figure out why this particular tower was chosen.

"There's only one way into the tower past this wall, and they'll all be around that area." Eric muses, stopping with his back pressed against the offending architecture, "Any ideas?"

Thinking for a minute, I eye the wall carefully.

"I think so. We didn't get shot at as we approached it, which means they must all be at the other end, or not paying any attention, so one of us could climb over the wall and get in that way, but they'd be vulnerable when they were climbing the tower." I suggest, tapping my weapon slightly.

"I said I'd cover you. You climb and I'll shoot the bastards, then I'll join you at the top." Eric confirms, gesturing for me to go.

Nodding, I make my way around to another part of the wall, starting to scale it in the darkness as I did before, hoping no one will catch me. Gritting my teeth, I haul myself over the structure and drop into the enclosed area, glad to hear the cries of alarm coming from a different part of the circle as I run over to the base of the tower. Thanking my aptitude for climbing, I start making my way up the building, trying to ignore the possibility of falling to my death as I start to get higher and higher off the ground. It takes me a little while, but I eventually manage to pull my aching limbs up and onto the balcony of the upper floor of the tower, somehow still out of sight of the guard, who is shooting at what I'm assuming is Eric down in the circle. Quietly, I slip into the shadows and ready my gun, shooting the unsuspecting initiate into the back, their sharp cry of surprise and pain resonating loudly around the room as I take up the flag and go to the open window. Leaning out, I scream out to the people below, waving it around triumphantly as a chorus of groans escapes the gathering of defenders, Eric already climbing the steps inside the tower.

Ecstatic, I shake the flag around more, happy that I may have proved myself as capable for once, my face split into a proud grin. Behind me, Eric suddenly bursts in, coming over to me with a smirk of his own.

"Congratulations, (Y/n)." He says, seemingly considering something.

"Thank you." I murmur, fighting off the blush as he stares at me, his eyes concealing a different emotion to what I was expecting.

Suddenly, he leans in and presses his lips to mine, swallowing my squeak of surprise as he starts to move with me. Cupping my face in his hand, his other at my waist, pulling me closer, Eric continues to kiss me, the sensation stirring up butterflies in my stomach, my body craving his touch as he presses himself flush against me. Briefly pulling apart for air, he manages to say something before he closes the gap again.

"God, I'm obsessed with you."

#divergent #eric coulter divergent #eric coulter #Eric Coulter imagine #Eric Coulter x reader #jai courtney

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

Text

Hayloft (p.2)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Abuse, drunkenness, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead, decapitating a chicken, reader is kind of emotional in this chapter

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

Part 1

_____________________

Work had passed fairly quickly as it always did when you had the opening shift. It sure sucked having to arrive at five o’clock in the morning but at least you got off earlier and you knew that that way you could grab groceries before your father got home and could yell at you about an empty kitchen again. By two o’clock in the afternoon, you were home again, hopping out of your truck and grabbing as many bags as you could in one go.

The loud sound of metal slamming against metal shook you and you flinched, looking between your door and the frame to see Arvin walking out towards you. It hadn’t occurred to you that his car was even in your driveway. After so many years of having busted broken down old cars sitting there that your dad had been swearing he’d fix for almost ten years, cars in the driveway seemed normal. “Let me give you a hand,” he offered as he got closer, lifting the canvas bags from your hands before you could object.

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you felt the weight suddenly taken off your own arms, “Thank you.” You dove back into the truck to grab the last two bags before slamming it shut with your hips. The two of you began your stroll towards the front door, the dirt driveway kicking up around your feet. “You’re back early.” You noted, looking over at Arvin.

He shrugged, “Yeah, uh, Wallace had me on the early shift today.”

You fumbled with the bags as you tried to unlock the door, kicking it open with your toes when it finally gave in. You walked into your home and Arvin followed, closing the door behind him. “Been here long? I didn’t see you in the driveway.”

“Not too long. I just didn’t want to let myself into your home without nobody there.” Arvin set the bags on the counter next to where you set yours.

You began to unpack the bags and put the groceries in the respective places. Arvin watched off to the side, unsure of how your kitchen was organized so he was worried he’d do more than good if he stepped in. “My daddy got the late shift?”

Arvin shook his head, noticing that his beat up old hat was still on his head despite being indoors and took it off immediately, his tousled brown curls parting messily down the middle. “No, we went in at the same time. He ‘n some buddies said they was goin’ to some bar in town.”

He watched your shoulders fall a little and you sighed, “Figures…. You didn’t go?”

Again, Arvin shook his head, “No. No offense to your daddy but I don’t like to drink the way I get the feelin’ he does.”

You snorted, turning to him with a knowing chuckle, “Let’s just say that I’m sorry in advance for whatever he says or does when he gets home, if he gets home. Sheriff Pike might end up callin’ in the mornin’ tellin’ us to pick him up.” Though it was stated as a joke, Arvin could hear the tragic reality behind your words.

Arvin then noticed the pack of beer bottles that you were pulling out of the bag. As if you could feel his eyes looking at you with worried curiosity, you glanced over at him, noticing the way his eyes flicked between you and the beer in your hands. You offered a sad shrug, “I know what you’re thinkin’ but trust me. Sometimes it’s better to have him drunk and possibly content than sober and angry there’s nothing to drink. Besides, the beer is better than the hard stuff with ‘im.”

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be makin’ faces. Your business is your business,” Arvin backpedalled, giving you an apologetic nod.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry. I know how it looks. I’m sorry you gotta see all of it. I been tryin’ to keep to keep him calm but if you end up stayin’ a while, I’m sure you’ll get to see him at his worse times.”

Arvin chewed his lip as he contemplated whether or not to bring up what had been going through his mind but he had to make sure you were alright. “I-I heard you ‘n your dad talkin’ last night… right after you left my room.”

Your face fell as you realized what he was talking about, “You weren’t s’posed to hear that. I’m sorry.” Shit, this was what you were hoping to avoid.

“Are you alright?”

Gentle. Caring. His tone was something that had been long lost to you in this house and it took the words out of your mouth for a moment. It was embarrassing, the way your heart welled up with… well love wasn’t quite the right word but the warmth of being cared about. Not since after your mother had passed had you heard somebody actually care about how you felt.

You just nodded and gave a forced smile that you could tell was easy to see through but it was the best you could muster. For someone who was able to take so much shit from their father and was able to look the man who would throw things at you and grab you by the hair dead in the eye with nothing but contempt, it was compassion that made you crumble. It had been so unexpected, especially from Arvin, the stranger living in your house.

“Shit, ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean to - I didn’t mean to overstep. I only…” He stammered over his words and at first you were confused until you felt the single hot tear tracing its way down your cheek.

You were quick to wipe it away, shocked at your own uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. You hadn’t realized until now that you had zoned out on the ground while Arvin’s words repeated in your head but now a flash of embarrassment ran through you. “No, no, no. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sniffled once before giving a small laugh of disbelief. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since anybody asked that.”

You straightened up and ran your hands through your hair, eyes closed as you thought of what else you needed to do. Thankfully, if your dad was at the bar, you had at least another four hours to just you and Arvin, all night if you were lucky, though you seldom were. That was when the feeling of dread set in. Your dad had requested chicken roast for dinner tonight and whether he came home early and only a few beers in or you had to drive him home hungover in the morning, the man would be furious if there weren’t at least reheated leftovers for him. You had to kill Patty and prep her for dinner.

“You okay?” Arvin asked again, though this time it was in reference to the way a heavy look fell over your features. It wasn’t a profound deep question like it was earlier.

Your head wavered from side to side and your lips twisted, “My daddy asked for chicken roast tonight. I gotta go out and fix Patty up.” You tried to put it lightly though it felt anything but. “I’ll be out in the coop. You’re more than welcome to clean up in the shower or do whatever you’d like ‘round the house. The radio is in the livin’ room if you wanna tune into somethin’.”

You pushed yourself off the counter and walked to the door in your kitchen that led out to the backyard but Arvin made a few steps to follow, “Is it alright if I keep you company? It don’t feel right bein’ in your house without you or your daddy here.”

You smiled at the thought of him staying with you and you nodded, continuing out the door, “Sure, c’mon.”

The hen house wasn’t very far from the back door. From there, you could see the several acres of land that your father was wasting. Your grandparents had bought this land in the late 1910’s and had started up a little farm of their own to sell locally, though your father had abandoned the farming portion after they died. It was where your daddy had grown up and then where you had as well. God, how you missed your grandparents. Your grandmother’s soft words of love and kindness but sternness and willingness to swat your butt with a wooden spoon if you got an attitude (though she would yell at your father if he ever tried to discipline you - “Now you leave that poor baby alone!”). Your grandfather had looked like a rough and angry old man from years of hard work but he had the softest heart of anyone you’d ever met. How the two of them had raised your father was beyond you.

When you approached the wired fence and jiggled the lock open, the chickens inside stood surprisingly still. They trusted you. You could see it in their little brown eyes. You were safe and warm and didn’t want to harm them. You came in for the unfertilized eggs they laid and left, oftentimes with some seed and a soft pat or two on the head. Patty, a fat white hen with black specks, walked comfortably around your feet, nuzzling her head against your leg. She was the nicest hen you’d ever had. She trusted you.

God, you were about to cry again. You bent down to pick her up and you held her against your chest, trying to look her in the eye, though it was difficult when she kept jerking it in different directions. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” you murmured low. Usually it was your father that would slaughter the hens if he really wanted the meat that badly. You had never done it yourself but he’d made you watch every time so that you knew how if the time ever came. Each time it made you sick to your stomach.

Already, you felt green. The unassuming hen that you had been friendly enough to for her not flip out when you held her was none the wiser that her life was about to end by your hand. You glanced over to the large wood round just ahead and the axe that was leaned up against it.

Your face contorted as you realized how much you disliked the placement. The way your father would slaughter chickens right in front of their friends made your heart break. It was barbaric.

You walked over to Arvin and held Patty out towards him, “Would you mind holdin’ onto her for a second?”

Though visibly confused, he took the chicken from your hands, drawing back when her wings fluttered out at the contact with the new strange man. Arvin watched as you walked towards the large round and tried to push it with all your might. “What’re you doin’?”

“I’m-” you grunted, feeling it slide slowly, inch by inch, “trying to move it where the other chickens can’t see.” You took another moment to use all your force against it before standing up straight and breathing heavily, “I know it sounds dumb cause they’re only chickens but it feels cruel to make ‘em watch, y’know?” You went back to pushing the round and Arvin approached behind you.

From here he could see the blood stains in the wood. It looked as if the blood had been washed off but the wood had been stained crimson regardless. There was also a divot where an axe had clearly been driven down many times over the years, chipping away at the wood.

Arvin’s heart actually warmed a little at your attempt to show mercy and your willingness to go out of your way to spare some chickens’ feelings. It wasn’t something he was sure he’d do himself but when he heard you say it, he realized you had a point. It was cruel to imprison a bunch of animals and then lead them out one by one to be slaughtered in front of everyone, each animal waiting their turn. “Here, take ‘er back. Let me.” Arvin stepped in, handing Patty back over to you and bending down to lift the round onto its side with much effort. The wood had to weigh at least a hundred pounds and had long since settled into the ground where it had been placed when you were a child.

Your eyes widened as you watched his biceps bulge, straining the material of his blue t-shirt. You’d never seen a man with muscles like that before and you found your eyes trailing along his arms, following every popping vein from the tops of his hands, up his forearms, and onto his biceps until they disappeared beneath his shirt. It was something you hadn’t expected to see in him. Arvin looked like a quiet, polite, hardworking young man but you never would have imagined the immaculate muscles he possessed. You found your mind wandering to what other surprises laid in store beneath all those layers he wo-

You needed to calm yourself down. If only he could hear your thoughts, he surely would be furious and disgusted with you. You hadn’t had such impure thoughts since that one time you had been messing around with Jimmy Bates in the backseat of his old car back in your senior year of high school. The two of you didn’t even go all the way but you went far enough and the guilt ate you alive since the two of you were never officially together anyways. He was just the cute boy from high school that you had pined over years that had finally given you the chance right before he shipped off to join the war.

“This alright?” Arvin asked, shaking you from your fantasy, and you snapped back into reality to realize he had rolled the wood round around the side of the coop behind the wooden wall, outside of the other chickens’ views.

You nodded and walked over to him, “That’s perfect. Thank you so much for doin’ that. I know it’s sorta stupid.”

Arvin shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, “If it means somethin’ to you, it ain’t stupid at all. Besides, now that you pointed it out, it was a little barbaric.”

You smiled up at him, one which he returned. How was this boy so damn nice? Was this some cosmic way of the universe finally giving you something good in your life? You’d become so calloused to your father’s harsh words and barked commands that you had forgotten how nice it was to feel cared about and validated. And you barely knew him.

“‘M glad you think so.” You looked down at Patty in your arms and any good feelings you’d had melted to sadness and fear. “You been a good girl, Patty. I know you struggled with layin’ eggs for a while but you were always a good girl. Never bit me once unlike some of them other hens.” You weren’t often very soft and vulnerable but you were about to take something’s life for the first time and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that on your heart. If this were a life or death situation, you would feel better about it, but it wasn’t. The only reason Patty had to die was because your father would throw a fit if she didn’t.

You carried her to the log and gave her a little kiss on the top of the head, “Please don’t hate me but I understand if you do. Say hi to my momma for me, will you? Tell her I love and miss her.” You set her down and got her in the position you always saw your dad put the other chickens in before he chopped their heads off. Arvin handed you the axe with uncertainty but watched on as you struggled to bring yourself to finish the deed.

You held her down and you could tell by the way she was flailing that she was panicking now. Patty was well aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry!” You choked, tears welling up in your eyes as her panic began to turn into your own panic. How did people do this? Why was this so freaking difficult?

Tossing the axe slightly in your hand, you readjusted the handle and just as you went to swing, Arvin piped up, “I can do it.”

You looked over at him, the afternoon sun reflecting the tears in your eyes and making the color of your irises stand out in tragic beauty. “I-I- Would you really not mind?” You breathed out in relief.

Arvin stepped forward and you handed the axe out to him, “I don’t mind.” You held onto Patty until Arvin could position her just right as well. He had no idea what he was doing - he’d never had to slaughter a chicken before. He had heard that all you had to do was cut their head off though and then he’d heard the rumors of them running around like crazy even after their head hit the ground. How hard could it be?

Once he had the hen pinned down where he wanted her, he looked up to see you chewing on your thumb, brows knitted in discomfort. It wasn’t the first chicken you’d watched get slaughtered but it was far from something you enjoyed observing. Arvin signaled to you with a nod before raising the axe above his head and you shut your eyes tight, flinching at the sound of the old metal head thudding into the old wood.

You had the carcass sitting in the sink while you pulled off the blood soaked feathers, depositing them into the trash bin by the handful. This part was easier for you, something you’d done many times in the past. “Thank you for doin’ that. I’m sorry I’m such a baby.”

Arvin sat at the kitchen table behind you, “You ain’t a baby just cause you don’t like to kill things. I’d say it’s probably rather normal.”

The time was inching closer to four o’clock now and the sun was beginning to hang ever so slightly lower in the sky, the precursor to sunset. It was warm outside and a cool spring breeze blew in through the open window above the sink. You snickered as you pulled another handful of feathers out, “Yeah? That mean you ain’t normal?” You looked over at him with a playful glint in your eye but your smile fell when you saw an uncomfortable look cross his face, almost like he’d seen a ghost.

“I ain’t never said I liked killin’ either.” Arvin attempted to match your joking tone but it was pretty evident there was a weight behind his words.

“Hey, I‘m sorry. I was only jokin’.” A pang of guilt washed over you but it was only that. A joke. You hadn’t imagined teasing him over something like killing a chicken would set him off, especially since he volunteered to do it for you, but apparently you were wrong.

Arvin sniffed and scratched his nose, “I know.” After a moment of awkward silence, he stood, “Let me give you a hand. What do you need done?”

You scanned his face once more to make sure he was really okay but you decided to drop it when you saw his insistent look. You shook your head, “I got it. It ain’t much after I get this all gutted and cleaned.” You picked up the mostly featherless carcass by the wings and plopped it back down into the sink.

“Well ‘m sure there’s vegetables or somethin’ else that goes with it, right? Let me start cuttin’ those up.” His persistence was adorable, making your heart flutter in the most wonderful way. The idea of a man actually being helpful was unknown to you before Arvin. Your life had been filled with your dad’s drunken bossings since you were twelve years old. You couldn’t remember the last time a genuinely kind voice offered you anything more than a smile on the street, not that you took that for granted. Arvin was just different though. Noble and helpful and kind.

“You really don’t have to-”

“Yeah, you keep sayin’ that but I really do want to help. So what can I do to make things easier on you?” He took a few steps closer to you until you felt the beginning of what could have been sparks if he stepped any nearer, like when you hold two magnets a few inches apart and you can feel the energy between them, that hint of attraction, but it’s not quite close enough to pull them together.

The blush in your cheeks at his simple gesture made you break the eye contact with a nervous laugh of retreat, “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna be so insistent,” you drew out with a teasing drawl, “you can cut up veggies. There’s potatoes over there and carrots and zucchini in the fridge.”

Arvin’s lips turned up in a small smile when you finally resigned your stubborn ways and he went off to find the vegetables where you had directed him.

Needless to say, when your father came home from the bar to find you and Arvin talking over a song by the Platters playing on the radio with Arvin cleaning up the dishes while you tossed together the vegetables and the seasoning, he was less than pleased.

“What the hell is going on here?” His slurred speech made your eyes widen in fear. He was supposed to get home later like he always did. But then you found yourself chiding your irresponsibility. Why the hell would you take that chance? You knew better than to let Arvin help out and now you were gonna pay.

Arvin sensed the way you tensed up beside him and watched as you spun around to face your father with haste, “Just finishin’ up dinner now. Should be ready by six so you got more than enough time to take a sho-”

“Why the fuck is he doin’ the dishes?” You father was leaning against the wall, clearly relying on the structure for support. This wasn’t the time to test him, not with Arvin here. It was times like this when he’d start throwing stuff at you.

Before you could say anything, Arvin piped up firmly but respectfully, “I offered, sir. It’s no problem at all.”

Your dad pointed at Arvin, “A man ain’t got no place with his hands in a sink of dishes. You leave that shit to her and she’ll just grab you a beer.” He stumbled over his own feet before catching himself ungracefully.

Arvin’s jaw set tightly and you gripped the countertop with white knuckles behind you. Times like this, you weren’t even sure what to say anymore. No amount of standing up for yourself got you anywhere with him. You never made any headway with your dad’s sexist views on gender roles. It was pointless. The only thing to do was try and work your way to supporting yourself so you could get the hell out of dodge and never look back.

Arvin’s voice surprised you, “A man’s place is helpin’ out the women in his life when they need, not leavin’ ‘em to do all the housework themselves.” You nearly choked on your own tongue at his words. It was a bold statement for a man to make, especially to the head of the house that was being so gracious as to host him free of charge, but he didn’t back down. It appeared like the jab was lost on your drunken father but Arvin continued with a slightly less accusatory comment to diffuse the situation regardless, “I grew up helpin’ my grandma with all the house chores so I really don’t mind at all.”

You watched the way your dad eyed Arvin and then you before scoffing and grumbling incoherently as he shuffled his way into the living room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I don’t want you gettin’ kicked out ‘cause of me. You didn’t have to say nothin’.”

Arvin glared at where your father had disappeared and nodded, “Yeah, I did. You don’t deserve all the shit he gives you.”

You suddenly found yourself avoiding his eyes and twisting your lips. He was right and you were well aware of that fact. The abuse your dad put you through was uncalled for at best. The fact that Arvin had actually taken the time to not only notice the same fact but acknowledge it and stand up for you was something you never thought you’d hear someone do. It made you uncomfortable. You’d been fighting this battle by yourself for so long that letting somebody even know it was being waged was enough to make you want to sink away. Even so, a part of you wanted to let Arvin keep standing up for you. It made you feel weak after having to stand up for yourself for so long but also validated.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a moment before turning back towards dinner that sat in a roasting pan on the stove, “Thank you.”

______

Taglist:

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russell x you #Arvin Russell #arvin rus #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics #Hayloft

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hi guys and gals! Part 7 sees friendship strengthened, decisions being made and love ultimately hurting. As always, please enjoy the next part and let me know what you think is going to happen in part eight! I actually love hearing from you all so please don't be too shy to reach out and message me - I love a good chat LOL Love always, Steph xx

Part 7 | settima parte

warnings; love sucks man. word count; 1850 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 09/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

“bella amelia, cosa ho fatto per meritarmi questa telefonata?” (beautiful amelia, what did i do to deserve this phone call?) Jorginho spoke his second-native tongue down the line to the British girl, calling him way past her self-appointed bedtime of 9pm.

“Jorgi, ho bisogno del consiglio di un amico” (Jorgi, i need the advice of a friend). Amelia, almost desperately, pleaded down the line to the boy who became her therapist.

It had been a few days since Amelia & Jack’s facetime where they sat and listened to the countless offers the successful girl had waiting in her voice message inbox. Being the person that she is, Amelia needed to distract herself from obsessing over the messages so she threw herself into her job. Spending too many hours over her paid allocation at Juventus training ground, getting administrative work done for the season ahead.

Was this her way of nesting? Or empty-nesting? Was she subconsciously preparing the club and her boys for life without her? Getting them ready with a season's worth of set pieces and tactical plays that would secure them an outstanding 37th victory? On the flip side, was she preparing for her new role in England which she had yet to accept. There was no harm in her taking her intellectual property back over to the motherland. The two clubs did not compete in the same tournaments, perhaps only the Champions league - but who's to say that whatever club she does pick will make the Champions League? There was no doubt Juve would be there - all of her preparation would ensure they would be. Whoever took over her role simply just had to show up and keep the boys in line.

“ok tesoro, parlami.” (Ok darling, speak to me). The Italian settled onto his couch, espresso in hand, waiting to hear the younger girl's problem.

“So I've spoken with Kyle & Jack now, and have told them of my predicament. They both are very heavily favouring one side - but I need a voice of reason. If you happen to express the same sentiments that they both did, then maybe that's all of the reassurance I need to make this final decision.” Amelia switched back to her native tongue.

After spending the better part of an hour discussing in great depth the offers that she was receiving from the 5 english clubs, Amelia felt just as confused as she did before calling the Chelsea boy. No surprise that Jorgi was team Come to the Prem & Join Chelsea, but the italian midfield maestro had also brought her back down to earth from cloud nine and reminded her of what, or who, she was leaving behind.

“Now I don't like telling you what to do, but you need to discuss this with Fede, Amelia. He doesn’t deserve a lot of things, but this is something he does.”

So that's where Amelia found herself the next morning. Sunday’s in Italy were reserved for espresso and long walks in the sun. This particular Sunday must have been reflective of the internal turmoil she was facing, uncommon for the season, the sky above her was overcast and a light drizzle had started to set in on her walk to the charming Italian’s townhouse.

______________________________________________________________

“pensavo fosse un mito che gli inglesi portino con sé il tempo the” (i thought it was a myth that british people bring the weather with them) Fede said as he opened the door, and his arms, while looking down the two steps at me.

“Very funny” I said as I gave him a hug. He always was so good at hugs. I’m going to miss them. Snap out of it Amelia - you don’t even know if you’re going to go yet. Oh she knows she's going. She also knows what club she's going to. No she doesn't, you be quiet. I’m here rooting for her Italian romance. If I had an angel and devil on each shoulder, their conversation would speak my internal monologue as such.

Walking through to his kitchen, putting on a coffee and saying hello to his dogs, Fede stood in the doorway and watched me move around his kitchen as though it was my own.

“I’m convinced you got British bulldogs because you just can’t help but love the English” I cheekily smiled up at him from my crouched position in the middle of his kitchen, giving the two bullys the best head rubs.

“Sure, you keep thinking that Amelia” Oh, the way he says your name Amelia, so foreign, so romantic. He says it the same way any other Italian would say it, he’s nothing special. Be quiet, let them have their moment.

“Lets go and enjoy these out in the courtyard, is your sun shade still up? It should hold out the rain right?” Amelia spoke rushedly as she poured two espresso cups and walked towards his back door.

“Tesoro, why are you so unsteady today? Is something troubling you?” Fede spoke worriedly, noticing my little nervous habits coming out to play and speaking faster than my mind could comprehend. Better to just get this over with i think, for once we agree on something.

“Ok i need to tell you something, and i need you to let me get it all out before interrupting me. Can you do that? This is something i’ve been working up the courage to speak out loud, let alone speak it to you”

Fede took a sip of his espresso, holding my eye contact, before putting his cup back on its saucer and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He thought he was ready for what i was about to say, expecting it to be yet another long winded speech as to why i want to put a label on our situationship. Oh boy, how wrong he was.

“After the success of the european tournament, i have received a lot of praise and recognition for my skills”

“And you deserve every bit of it amore, every bit and even more” Oh dear, could my heart hurt anymore?

“Fede, I asked you not to interrupt me…”

“Ok ok, sorry, continue”

“So, I have received a lot of recognition both here in Italy as well as from my home country of England. In saying that, I have received a few offers from clubs in the premier league that want me to bring my approach, the italian approach, to the english game. It's a real step up in my career and it's something I am seriously considering. I’ve spoken with some of the boys back home and also Jorgi, they all think that this is the next step for me. I’m far too comfortable here, I can't grow in my comfort zone. I think I'm ready for a new challenge.”

I held eye contact with the 27 year old, I wasn’t about to let him know just how vulnerable I was feeling here in front of him. Something Fede could always do was read me, and read my emotions. If he knew how exposed I felt, how easily I could be swayed over this decision, then he would make it his life's mission to do so. I had made my mind up that I was going, but there was also a part of me that decided if he was to give me what I was after I would be open to the possibility of staying.

“So it seems that you have asked for the opinion of everyone else in your life, and made your decision, before even considering mine.” He slumped back in his chair, and rubbed two fingers over his lips while looking off into the small courtyard garden.

“Fede, I have made my decision. But I wanted to talk to you about it, I owe that to you. You have made my time here so memorable, so fantastic, so filled with love that I wouldn't even consider not including you in this.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay? Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend? To tell you I love you? To move in with me? Let me know what you need from me to reconsider this decision” He began to get frustrated with me, pulling the cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“That’s exactly it Fede! I don’t want to ask you to do that, you should ask me to be your girlfriend on your own! I don't want you to tell me you love me if you think that's what I want to hear - I want you to feel like you love me! I don’t need anyone to tell me what I want to hear, what I want to hear is what you truly feel. And if there is something i have learnt about you in the last few years is that you can’t hold back your feelings with anything! If you were in love with me it would have burst from you a long time ago. I think that you do love me Fede, but as someone to come home to instead of no one at all.”

“You know Fede, i don’t have any regrets over this. You mean just as much to me now as you did the very first time we crossed that boundary and blurred the lines. You’re just my type, you only call me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be your own man or mine. I hate to say it, but you really are just my type. This decision has nothing to do with you, it’s something i have come to make all on my own.”

I had stood up now, looking down at the 27 year old. I needed him to understand exactly what I was saying, how serious I was. This was the moment I could get it all off my chest, instead of just letting the relationship play out on his terms.

“I leave on Friday, I let the club know this morning. There's nothing that can be done now Fede, this is my decision. Please respect it, and me”

He stood up, his almost 6’1” frame towering over me. Looking down, face of steel, I could see everything I needed behind his eyes.

“hai ragione ti amo Solo non nel modo in cui meriti di essere amato” (you're right, i do love you. Just not in the way you deserve to be loved). He pulled me into his chest, both arms wrapping around the back of my shoulders, left hand holding my head in the crook of his neck. My arms wrapped around his back from below his arms, holding him tight enough that they crossed over and I could grab the sides of his rib cage. This was the closure I needed.

“I’ll give Jorginho a call and make sure he looks out for you”

“How do you know what club I'm going to?”

“I saw the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned its name, it was the same sparkle that used to come out when you said mine…”

Part 8. | parte otto

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