#fingers crossed going to the gym soon will be a good outlet

[plaidpyjamas]

.

[nanaminokanojo]

"Petty" | Oikawa Toru X You

CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 CHARACTERS: Oikawa Toru X You | Haikyuu Characters (mentions) WORD COUNT: 3,300+ GENRE: fluff | romance | aged-up characters | university au | oneshot TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | strong/mature language | alcohol use SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

photo/fanart credits to @/oikawalovesyouu on Twitter

"He's self-centered but he's insecure so naturally, he's petty."

Oikawa couldn't shake that comment off his head as he slammed yet another ball into the opposing court, aggressively wiping on the sweat on his forehead. The university gym was already deserted with all his teammates gone yet he was still doing jump serves as if he wasn't already so good at it. He just needed an outlet.

In his head, he was already thinking of counter arguments to what he heard being said about him. It was one sentence. One! And yet he was working up all his brain cells to think of a lengthy rebuttal to every single word in that single statement.

First of all, he wasn't self-centered. He doesn't just think about himself, or so he likes to think. He was sensitive enough to read the room most of the time and he can actually bring the best out of his teammates to the highest degree. An insensitive, selfish prick wouldn't be able to do that without proper observation and lack of awareness for others.

Secondly, he didn't think he was insecure. He didn't have to lift a finger to get the attention he wanted, and it was human to feel envy for those who are better than him because there will always be someone better. It’s just an inevitability he has to deal with.

And lastly, he wasn't petty. He's always been reactive, he knew that, but that was just reaction if not retaliation to those who want to belittle him. That's what he thinks anyway.

But why you had to say those things about him as if you were a female version of Iwaizumi – his best friend who seemed to get off of being too cruelly honest and straightforward about what he thought of Oikawa – was something he didn't understand.

Of course, he was aware of your blatant frankness. He loved that about you. You were just very insistent on your individuality and you had very strong opinions which you stood by without regard to anything. Most of the time anyway. He actually got a kick out of people's reactions when you say something without filtering your words especially when you were children, but like they say, it's never funny when one becomes the receiving end of anything negative.

The larger dilemma was that you were the only girl he sincerely liked, so much so that he was willing to lay down his pride just to have you and call you his. Solely and irrevocably his. But if you thought of him that way, then maybe you actually hated him. It bothered him to no end.

"What the hell did I tell you about over-exertion?" Oikawa heard that familiar deep voice from the direction of the entrance, and before he knew it, the ball crate was being wheeled away from him. "Enough. It's off season."

"Just letting off some steam," Oikawa stated, smiling Iwaizumi's way despite himself.

"You can do that at Kuroo's party," the other male said with finality. "Be out in fifteen." His last words were laced with a threat, and Oikawa didn't have a choice but to do as he was told. The former was right. If it's just to vent out, he could definitely do that at the party.

He couldn't be more wrong in his life.

The moment he entered the premises of Kuroo's house, the first thing he saw was you. You came in just after he did, but you bumped against him without even apologizing as you walked ahead, waving at someone else. You saw him there, but you walked off anyway as if you didn't.

"What the actual fuck?" he couldn't help but blurt out when he saw just who you were talking to.

You've always been agreeable to him as his childhood friend, but you were ignoring him on top of saying bad things about him to your friends. And now, you were talking to Ushijima Wakatoshi whom you knew he disliked with a passion.

The male simply got on his nerves for the fact that he was better at him in the sport they both played. Oikawa also hated how much the guy hounded him to join their team back in high school, talking about how he would be better off. Like how is it better to be in the same team as Ushijima was when he would just outshine him?

His mind started to run amok with questions. What could you possibly want from Ushijima? Better yet, what did he want from you? Since when were you even close to him? Oikawa almost wanted to throw up seeing how you were being buddy-buddy with the cold fish of a guy, actually managing to melt his severe expressions into a soft smile. Were you going out with him now? He couldn't take it.

Without thinking, he grabbed the shoulder of the person who was holding a tray of drinks, taking two shot glasses in his hand, and telling the person to stay where he was standing. He was able to down six shots while standing there, but before he could drink more, Iwaizumi came into view.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded gruffly, telling the poor guy with the drinks to scram.

"Not now, Iwa," he snapped, walking towards the direction of the stairs, rudely telling everyone to get out of his way.

He stayed there for almost an hour, trying to calm his nerves but ending up going feral over this couple who were making out as they pushed the door to Kuroo's room where he was lying down on the bed. To say that he killed their mood was an understatement as he harshly told them to fuck off. Nobody dared cross him being the famous star athlete that he was at the university you both attended. It was, however, useless if he finds himself losing even outside of court to Ushijima who was his equivalent in the neighboring school when it comes to volleyball. It left him with a bitter taste at the recesses of his mouth.

When he finally emerged from the room, deciding to get more drinks, he was still in a foul mood, glaring at anyone who would get in his way towards the kitchen. But his plan was all but forgotten when he saw you standing by the archway that led to the kitchen, leaning there as you nursed a plastic cup against your chest.

For the first time that night, he was actually seeing how beautiful you were, dressed in a crop top and tight-fitting jeans which were tattered in most places. As per usual, you were stuck in your own bubble, bobbing your head to the music as if you weren't aware of all the adoring looks you were getting. Well, you were a person who didn't know her strengths and denied them when he tells you. It was just unfair how he always has nice things to say about you but you didn't think the same way about him.

He closed the distance between the two of you, placed his forearm above your head, towering over you, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

"Hey, baby," he said in a low tone, leaning down until your faces were just inches from one another.

"Hello, darling," you returned, smiling slightly. "I've been looking for you, but Iwa said you ran off somewhere."

"Have you now?" He eyed you seriously. "Weren't you just ignoring me a while ago for Ushijima?"

He wasn't able to elicit the reaction he wanted from you, and instead, you smirked at him. "Eh?" you responded in a dragged out note. "I wasn't with Ushijima for the sake of ignoring you, Toru. The world doesn't revolve around you."

He stood back in indignation, your opinions of him coming out to the surface. "So why were you with him?" He was aware that his tone made it seem like he had any right to be questioning you of your actions. He had been vocal about his attraction to you, but it wasn't as if he was your boyfriend. Still, he couldn't care less at the moment.

"None of your business, sweetheart," you told him, your words at odds to the saccharine smile you flashed him. He found himself disconcerted especially when you reached up and started fixing his fringe. "What are you acting so jealous for?"

Ah, he thought. It wasn't his place to be feeling that way but he didn't want to respond to your question in any way. So, like he did earlier, he stormed off, sticking to his original plan to get wasted.

He didn't want to say things he will regret even if you were being hot and cold. For a while now, he had the feeling that you were toying with him, but whenever he was around, your actions towards him were always the opposite of your words about him as of late. One time you'd be telling him to go away, but as soon as he does, you're grabbing his arm, telling him to sit still beside you. You'd be complaining to him one second that he was being an annoying brat and then sit on his lap peppering his cheeks with kisses. You'd be with another guy but tell him you're looking for him. You were confusing to say the least.

Oikawa didn't know what happened after he walked away from you. But when he finally came to, he had a throbbing headache and he wasn't in his room. He looked around him, straining to keep his eyes open as he took in his surroundings, shooting up from the bed when he realized he was looking at the familiar layout of your bedroom.

He had been there a million times ever since you were kids, and he had been a witness to all the changes your little corner of the world had gone through. He couldn't help but smile despite his feelings and headache at the thought that what was once a room that looked like it was made of cotton candy was now in scales of black and white, surrounded with things that were just so you.

But after all the changes, you still had that framed photo of you and him in grade school, where he was kissing you on the cheek while you grinned wide for the camera. You were wearing the matching shirts your crazy moms got you, and he knew you still kept them somewhere in your room.

Yes, he told himself, I was there before anyone else. You’ve always been the closest to him even when Iwaizumi came into the picture. Even then, he didn’t seem to understand you well enough to actually lay emphasis on the fact that you’ve known each other since you were in diapers.

Just then, you walked into the room, holding a glass of fizzy water. You were wearing only his old volleyball jersey, padding barefoot on the floor. You specifically asked for it when you both graduated from high school and you've been sleeping in it since then.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted, sitting down on the empty space of the queen bed which he noticed was also slept on. "Drink up."

"What am I doing here?" he asked after downing the whole glass in one go, setting it on the nightstand.

"I took you home. Your mom would have killed you if she saw how fucked up you were last night." You brushed his hair from over his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my head's about to explode," he muttered.

You clucked your tongue. "Why did you have to drink so much anyway?"

Instead of answering you, he laid back down on the bed, turning away from you. He had every intention to ignore you after that, but it wasn't long before he felt you coming closer to him, propping your chin on his arm while you draped yours over his waist.

"You're sulking, Toru."

He took the pillow from under his head to hide his head under it. "I don't wanna do this today, Y/N."

"Do what? What exactly are we doing?"

The audacity to ask, he said at the back of his mind, biting his tongue. He didn't say anything and just stayed still.

"Hey, I asked you a question," you continued to badger him. "You've been acting off since a week ago. What's up?"

He refused to satisfy you with a response thinking you ought to realize what it was exactly that you two had been doing, dancing around each other yet skirting around the real issues between you. You couldn't be that oblivious of his affections and you weren't exactly passive either.

Nevertheless, you always had a way of turning things to your favor, and before he knew it, he was falling off the bed after you kicked him off it, nearly landing face down if it weren't for his fast reflexes.

"Y/N!" he whined, remaining seated on the floor as he clutched on his head. He half expected you to laugh at his predicament, but when he met your eyes, he regretted it, seeing the serious expression you had.

"You should know by now that I hate it when I am denied things I want to know especially those which involve me," you told him, cocking your head to the direction of the bed. You sounded menacing, so far from the gentle voice you always used when talking to him. "Stop being a brat. Get back here and talk to me properly."

"You're the one who kicked me!" he protested as he stood up, doing as he was told nonetheless, sitting up and leaning on the headboard.

"So, what's your problem?"

"I'm jealous of Ushijima," he returned promptly his brown eyes also taking a severe quality to it as he eyed you.

You arched a brow at him. "What's new about that?"

"At least before, he didn't have you, too. Now..." He sighed. "You're friends with him now? What was that about last night?"

"Are you serious right now? I had business with the guy."

Oikawa scoffed. "What business are you talking about that he's all smiles at you like that? He only ever smiles around his girlfriend –"

"Exactly," you countered, openly savoring the look on his face when he realized just what he was saying. "He ordered a huge consignment of rare live flowers for his girlfriend so I informed him it had been delivered. Our family as ikebana* artists and horticulturist do that for a living."

"What?"

You shrugged. "You're assuming things again."

Oikawa blinked, feeling defeated at your sound reasoning, but he still has bones to pick with you. "That's not just my problem with you. What are we really, Y/N? I don't get how you're ignoring me and suddenly being sweet. I'm getting mixed signals here. And don't think for a second that I didn't hear about what you told your friends about me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, smirking when he saw how your eyes rounded, finally able to take you off guard like you usually did to him. For once, he wanted you to lose your footing and come clean about what you really thought about him…how you really felt.

"Hmm. What exactly did I say about you?" you asked, the caution in your tone obvious.

"You know it, Y/N. Don't you dare make me jump all the hoops!" he stated, losing his temper.

You shook your head, not understanding where his choleric attitude was coming from. You knew better than to level your irritation with his, and you were so used to his antics that you found yourself almost unaffected by his crusty demeanor. "I really don't know what you're talking about, Toru."

He glared at you. "You told them you think I'm petty because I'm self-centered but I'm insecure. Ring any bells, sweetheart? And don't lie, I heard it myself."

You ran your hand over your face, frustration emanating from you. At the same time, you wanted to laugh because he looked like an angry kitten instead of the fully grown man he supposedly is.

Oikawa didn't know where your exasperation was coming from when he's supposedly the one feeling it but then you nodded.

"I did say that."

"How could you?" he complained, aware that he sounded like a juvenile dipshit but he didn't know how to react to your lack of denial for it. In the end, he just wanted you to say you didn't mean it even if he already got hurt from hearing it.

"How couldn't I, Toru? That's the truth," you stated, no bars held and your voice ringing clear in the air between you. You were really merciless when it came to voicing out what ran inside your head.

"Well, shit, Y/N. Why didn't you just tell me to my face?" He was about to stand up, but you pushed him down, sitting astride his lap so he wouldn't move. He refused to look at you but couldn’t move at the same time cause he didn’t want to hurt you in any way although he didn’t exactly want you close at the moment. "Get off while I'm being nice about it."

"Iwa and I never fail to tell you every day," you started, placing your hands on either side of his face, gently making him look at you.

"You both hate me?" he asked weakly, unable to imagine life without the two of you beside him.

"No." You shook your head. "Toru, no. Of course not. That's just how you are, isn't it? We never asked you to change. We just couldn't help noticing it, and if we don't tell you, who will?"

Oikawa Toru. So used to being fawned over that he doesn't know how to react when he is being criticized. He could admit to that, but it still hurt hearing you say that.

"Sweetheart, I did say those things about you, but you didn't stay long enough to hear the rest."

He pouted, looking away from you. "And what is it?"

You tilted your head so you would be in his line of vision, grinning the moment you realized you had him. "That despite all that, you're a generally kind person who cares a lot for your friends, your team, for me, and even if you don't know how to show it, deep down, you're a sensitive soul. And I adore that about you."

"Really?"

You scoffed. "I love you, Toru. I thought we had an understanding."

"As friends, you mean?"

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't say anything further, closing the distance between your lips, kissing him fervently and intensely in case the message didn't come across just yet.

He gasped against your lips, caught off guard as usual, but kissed you back with as much fervor, dominating you shortly after your mouths made contact. He nipped and sucked on your lips before shoving his tongue into your mouth, immediately finding yours and delving in to taste you. Oikawa grinned when he rendered you into a panting mess, reveling in the way your hands possessively held him close.

"I waited so long for this," he said against your ear.

"Make up for all those times you missed out then," you told him with a smug grin.

"Heh. You asked for it."

He flipped you both over on the bed making you burst out in a fit of giggles, kissing you stupid, his hands touching everywhere he could reach, your clothes and his mixing in a pile on the floor while he made sweet love to you.

Oikawa Toru. He's self-centered but he's insecure so naturally, he's petty. But he was not just that. He's also the guy you loved to smithereens because you knew that those other facets of him – the good ones – exist.

-the end-

TERMINOLOGIES:

*ikebana (活け花) - traditional Japanese art of arranging flowers

My first try at Haikyuu...god d*mn you, both, @kenkinori and @ushiwaikuroo !!! XD

Before anyone comes after me, the characters are aged up as specified in the story. The beauty of literary creativity!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY FURUDATE HARUICHI’S “HAIKYUU!”. [20210704]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[kuroopaisen]

show off || kuroo tetsurou

➵ nekoma wants proof that their beloved manager and their scheming captain are actually together. for better or worse, your boyfriend is a petty little shit.

wc: 2.5k

warnings: f!reader, the mildest of sexual references 

a/n: thank you once again to ren for beta’ing this :( this was written with the in-between in mind, but it can absolutely be read as a stand-alone! 

“Oi, Tetsu.”

“Hm?” He leaned down to get his face level with yours – a little closer than it should be.

You shoved him away by his shoulder, glaring at him. “You know, you’ve been doing a terrible job at being subtle.”

He grinned, straightening up and ruffling your hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” You asked, eyes flicking over to the rest of the team. The two of you were courtside as Kuroo took a quick ‘water break.’ You had a feeling that his increasingly frequent breaks were less about keeping his hydration up, and more about gazing at you with a touch too much affection. 

“What, telling them we’re together?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Sh!”

He chuckled, resisting the urge to poke your nose. “You think we shouldn’t tell them?” He smirked. “Ever?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just that… you know. The gym isn’t exactly neutral ground.”

He snorted. “Neutral ground, huh?”

“You know what I mean,” you huffed.

“Can’t say I do.” 

“You’re so mean,” you whined. If you were alone, you might’ve buried your face in his chest. But, you couldn’t really do that now. 

“I’m sorry,” he grinned, ruffling your hair yet again. “But we should tell them. And soon.” 

You pouted at him, trying to make your eyes as endearing as you could manage. 

“Nice try,” he chuckled. “But not gonna work.” 

“Can we at least tell them when the coaches are gone?” You frowned petulantly, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jacket. “That’ll make it a tad less embarrassing.”

“Ashamed to be with me?” Kuroo grinned, raising an eyebrow at you.

“No! I just—”

“I know,” he cooed, his fingers finding their way to the your shoulders and giving them a gentle massage. You would’ve melted into that touch, had you been alone.

“What did I say about being subtle?” You glared, but made no effort to whack his arms away. 

“Gotta go,” he smirked, tossing his bottle at you before dashing for the court. You had half a mind to call after him, but you thought better of it. 

You conceded, propping yourself against the wall as you glared at your obnoxiously tall boyfriend as subtly as you could. 

Practice was over much too quickly. You’d almost wanted it to go on forever, given what you were about to do. You knew you had to tell your kids at some point, but the thought was still frightening. What would they think? Would they disapprove? 

Kuroo had said it was better to tell them sooner rather than later, and you’d begrudgingly agreed. It’d be worse if you just kept putting it off, and you were sure your kids would feel like that was a betrayal. 

But the logic of it didn’t stop you from being any less nervous. 

So when everyone was packing up and the coaches had made their exit, Kuroo ambled over to you with a concerned look on his face. 

“You sure you’re okay to tell them tonight?” Kuroo asked, tilting his head at you. 

He was far too good at reading your emotions. Perceptive bastard. 

You nodded, casting your eyes to your kids. “Yeah.”

“We don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to,” he murmured, zipping up his bag. “At least, not here.” 

“It’s okay,” you smiled, trying to quell the hammering in your chest. “It’s like ripping the bandaid off, right?”

Kuroo snorted. “Really? That’s what you’re going to equate our relationship to?” 

“Not our relationship, but—” 

He held back a cackle as he stood up, turning to face the rest of the team.  

“Everyone!”

The other boys turned to look at him, expressions ranging from confusion to annoyance. 

“So,” Kuroo said, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You took a deep breath as you tried to look as unbothered as possible. “We have some important news for you.”

“You’ve actually become a competent captain?” Yaku snorted. 

“Great guess, but no,” Kuroo grinned, looking at you. “We… are finally together.”

“Huh?” Lev tilted his head to the side, looking between the two of you. “Together?”

“Yes,” Kuroo nodded slowly. “Together… romantically.”

“You’re dating?” Inuoka blinked, looking between the two of you.

Kuroo resisted the urge to sigh. “Yes. We’re dating.”

“No way,” Yaku shook his head. “Nuh uh. No way you grew balls and asked her out.”

“Who said I asked her out?” Kuroo gasped, looking down at you.

“She’s too good for you,” Kenma shrugged. Some nods rippled through the rest of the team, the general consensus being one of agreement. You bit back a laugh. That, at least, made you feel a little less nervous.

Kuroo stared at him for a moment, looking between his once-trusted childhood friend and you. 

“Then how do you explain this?” Kuroo asked, gesturing between the two of you, pointing specifically to the arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Explain what?” Lev asked, tilting his head at the two of you. 

“Well, this is… a thing couples do,” Kuroo murmured, bewilderment working its way into his expression. 

“Not necessarily,” Lev piped up. “I put my arm around her all the time!” 

“Trust me, I know,” Kuroo seethed, pulling you a little closer. 

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling too widely. Kuroo had never said that Lev’s affection towards you was a problem, but you had caught your boyfriend pouting in your general direction whenever the younger boy got a little bit too close. 

“So… you don’t believe me at all?” Kuroo frowned, looking between all the faces in front of him. 

“Nuh uh.” Several of the boys shook their heads. 

“But… why would we both be standing here, telling you all that we’re dating?” Kuroo asked, trying to grasp at some logical argument. You could tell that his frustration was already growing. You, on the other hand, were having a great time. 

“You offered to pay her five thousand yen,” Yamamoto shrugged. “Only scenario that makes sense.”

“She’s right here, you know.” Kuroo jerked his head at you. 

“Did he offer to pay you, like, five thousand yen or something?” Yamamoto asked, looking you dead in the eye.

“Yes.” You were nervous – but teasing Kuroo seemed like the perfect outlet. 

Kuroo’s head whipped around to look at you, aghast.

You grinned up at him.

“Sorry,” Yaku shrugged, taking a large swig of water. “We’re not just going to believe you without proof.” 

“Oh?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “So you want proof, then?”

The team looked amongst themselves, nodding. “Yeah, actually. We do.”

“I see,” Kuroo hummed, turning to face you. You complied, a small knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. What was he planning to do?

You caught a glimpse of Kenma’s face. Anticipatory discomfort. Oh, no. 

Kuroo’s hands came up to cup your face, as they had many times this month. But, you trusted him; he wouldn’t do anything to make you comfortable. At least, not without checking with you first. 

He leant in, his breath tickling your ear. “Can I?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. You knew the team was watching with rapt attention. And you knew that your boyfriend could be a petty little shit.

His lips met yours as he moved his hands to your waist, holding you flush against his body. Your arms found their way around his neck instinctively as you stood on your tiptoes, leaning against him for balance.

Oh.

He meant business.

He hummed, parting your lips with his. Of course he wouldn’t just go for a chaste peck. But, you’d let him get away with it this time.

Your face was burning; you were barely used to him touching you like this in private, let alone in front of your entire team. But you weren’t about to stop him. Your kids said they wanted proof, after all.

You weren’t sure who started it. But someone started screeching.

You could hear Lev screaming, shouting something about ‘betrayal.’ Yamamoto was full-on hollering, the sound ringing through the gym. Was the screeching… Fukunaga, then?

“Alright, that’s enough!” Yaku bellowed, grabbing Kuroo by the collar and yanking him away from you. Kuroo cackled as he stumbled back, arms still reaching out for you.

“You are disgusting,” Yaku cawed, looking between the two of you.

“You said you wanted proof!” Kuroo snickered, hands on his knees as he keeled over.

“Yeah, proof!” Yamamoto shouted. “Not a demonstration.”

“You’re just jealous,” Kuroo snorted, stumbling towards you. You reached out for him, planting your hands on his shoulders.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Inuoka held up a hand, looking between the two of you with wide eyes. “How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yaku huffed, hands on his hips. “How long have you been keeping this from us?”

“None of your business,” Kuroo grinned, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. You laughed, letting yourself fall against him.

“They’ve been dating for about a month,” Kenma murmured, hands dug deep in his pockets. If he felt any remorse for outing you two like that, he didn’t show it. 

“A month?” Various sounds of indignation rose up in a racket, and you knew that you had a lot to answer for. 

“You!” Yaku gasped, pointing a finger at you. “You’re complicit in this!”

“Sorry,” you giggled, slipping your arms around Kuroo’s waist. Even you had to admit that the look of absolute betrayal on the boys’ faces was pretty priceless. 

“Aren’t you happy for us?” Kuroo snorted, looking between the team. “Your beloved manager and your captain—”

“Of course we are,” Kai chuckled, raising a hand. “We’re just surprised.” 

“I, for one, thought you had better taste,” Yaku grumbled, jabbing a finger at you. 

“Look, dumbass—” 

“If you’re dating him out of pity, blink twice,” Yamamoto asked, looking you straight in the eye. 

“Don’t you dare,” Kuroo huffed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Another round of yells from your kids, mostly consisting of ‘gross!’ and ‘get a room!’ 

You elbowed Kuroo in the stomach swiftly before he could say ‘oh, we intend to.’

As Kuroo continued to gloat about his relationship to a wailing Yamamoto, you began apologising profusely to Lev and Yaku. 

Kai, bless his heart, was doing his best to help you contain the chaos, but to no avail. 

Kenma had very decidedly kept himself out of it, instead absorbing himself in whatever game he was playing on his phone.

 Poor Inuoka still looked confused, but Shibayama was so red in the face that he had to be cognizant of what was going on. 

Fukunaga and Teshiro just watched on, one amused and the other bewildered. 

Somehow, after all that mayhem, you managed to calm the racket down. One by one, everyone began to make their way home. 

You personally wanted to get into the warmth of a home as soon as possible, cold as a winter night in Tokyo could be. 

As usual, you and Kuroo walked with Kenma. The only difference these days was that now you and Kuroo walked hand in hand. Kenma had been the first person to find out about your relationship, and much to your relief, it hadn’t changed how he interacted with the two of you. 

If anything, he seemed quietly grateful that it gave him an opportunity to rag on Kuroo. 

“That was childish of you,” Kenma sighed, his hands dug in his pockets as the three of you trudged down the street. 

“They were insulting my honour,” Kuroo grinned, placing a hand to his chest. The other was wrapped firmly around one of yours. 

Kenma gave him that look, the one that’d make anyone crumple up and feel like a total idiot. But Kuroo was undeterred, that childish grin of his growing bigger. 

“What was I supposed to do? Let them tell me that my girlfriend is too good for me?”

“Your girlfriend is too good for you.”

“Thank you, Kenma,” you beamed, peeking around your boyfriend to catch a glimpse of the second year. 

“The disrespect!” Kuroo scoffed. “To think, I put so much time and effort into being a good captain, and this is–”

“Goodnight,” Kenma cut in, waving a hand at the two of you. You looked over to see that you’d arrived at his house without even noticing. Kenma scuttled towards his front door, hunched over like a little gremlin with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“Don’t stay up too late!” Kuroo called after him. “And make sure you eat a good dinner!”

Kenma shot him a dithering look, but Kuroo remained undeterred. 

“And don’t play video games after ten! It’s bad for your eyes!” 

Kenma said nothing as he shut his front door with a resounding ‘thud.’ 

You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend, who turned to you with a grin. 

“He’ll thank me one day.” 

“You sure?” You smiled. 

“He may not say it,” Kuroo tsked, “but I know he’s grateful deep down.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, but he knew you didn’t mean it. He gave your hand a squeeze as he stepped forward. 

“Alright, let’s get you home,” he sighed, his breath billowing in a little cloud in front of him. 

“Wait,” you said, tugging on his hand. 

“Hm?”

“I’ve got a question.” 

“Huh?” He tilted his head at you, his nose a little red and shiny from the cold. 

“Can I come over?” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze.  

Kuroo gazed at you for a moment, his heart thrumming in his chest. It wasn’t a strange question, or one that should’ve given him reason to pause. But he still wasn’t used to this sort of thing. To you asking to hang out with him, all of your feelings out in the open. He got to spend time with you without having to hold things so close to his chest that it hurt. You could do everything together, now; talk, laugh, tease, kiss. And somehow, that was all wrapped up in one little question.

“You just want to see my grandma,” he grinned. Sure, he felt all that sentimentality, but he wasn’t about to say it. 

“Oh, of course,” you nodded. “And don’t forget the dog.” 

He looked at you, your cheeks bitten red by the cold on this early December evening, your eyes shining with a pure and wholesome joy. The warmth of your hand was tucked safely in his, your bodies pressed together as you walked down the street. There was no strange tension between you anymore. No fear that either of you might ruin this precious thing you shared. 

“I guess I can live with that.” He smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. 

He’s just happy. Content. Maybe even blissful. 

And for the second time in the past five minutes, Kuroo found himself at the mercy of his own fondness. He gazed at you, the softest of smiles on his face. 

He really was lucky to have you. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whined, pressing your face against his arm in an attempt to hide it. 

“Like what?”

“Like… Like…” You grasped at the words, trying to think of anything that wasn’t some form of ‘like you love me.’ You gave up pretty quickly. “Like that!” 

You may not have said those words, but Kuroo knew you well enough to glean what you really meant. 

“I’m your boyfriend!” He chuckled, leaning back and tucking an arm around your waist. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” you whined, covering your face with your gloved hands. “It’s just… you… you’re embarrassing me!” 

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. God, you really were too cute. “Let’s go home.” 

[spaceskam]

Prompt 7 makex

7. "I dreamt about you last night."

ao3

The viola stayed under Alex's chin even as his bow slowed and his fingers fell limp against neck.

Maria kicked him to tell him he was fucking up, but he couldn't fix it. He was far too busy watching as Michael Guerin, quarterback of the football team who was being scouted by five different universities, slipped into the band room with a note in his hand. He had that award winning smile on his face as he strolled towards Mr. Richard. Alex couldn't take his eyes off him; he never could.

Two months ago, he'd been assigned to tutor Michael Guerin because he was failing English. He'd been annoyed at first. While everyone else found him charming, Alex found him annoying, arrogant, and chronically heterosexual at best. However, two conversations with him later, he discovered he was a goddamn math genius and he wasn't actually bad at English either, he just didn't care. Alex had just made himself a personal pest rather than a tutor, breathing over his shoulder until he did his work. That hovering turned into something a tad unexpected...

"Alex," Mr. Richard said, not stopping as he waved the paper in the air, "Mrs. Doyle needs you, bring your bag."

Alex nodded, ignoring Maria's confused look as he quickly packed up his viola and headed towards the door of the band room. Michael was leaning against the wall beside the door, flashing that mischievous grin.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble," he teased, speed walking down the concrete pathway that led to the virtually abandoned old gym that was only used during volleyball season. Michael had swiped his coach's key and made a copy, letting both of them inside.

"You can't just take me out of class whenever you're bored," Alex scolded, following him through the dimly lit gym towards the locker room without question. As much as those butterflies in his stomach were going crazy, he never let that show. It was easier to pretend he didn't a really give a shit about him if he acted like it at all times.

"Who said I was bored? You can't make assumptions like that, Manes," Michael said, still grinning wildly as he unlocked the office that was used as storage more than anything. There were stacks of extra chairs and two old desks.

"I'm not making assumptions, I know you," he said, carefully putting down his case and his bag, "But seriously, our concert is in a month and I have a solo."

"Ooh, violin solo? Look at you," Michael teased. Alex rolled his eyes, standing up and looking at Michael who was waiting patiently for him with his hands behind his back.

"Viola," he corrected. Michael shrugged like the difference didn't matter, rolling from his heels to his toes and then back again. Alex stared at him blankly. "So what so important that you couldn't wait until after class?"

Michael's grin became entirely childish as he took a step closer. Alex leaned his hands back on one of the desks, lifting himself to sit on it easily.

"I had a dream about you last night," Michael said. Alex raised a lazy eyebrow despite his genuine interest.

Whatever they did wasn't real. It was something Alex had found to be very useful for bribery whenever Michael needed to do homework or a stress relief tactic, all born out of Michael's innocent questioning if the rumors about Alex were true. Alex was nothing more than a step in Michael's coming out process. But that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it.

"You were in that sexy little concert uniform, playing me a song, kept me distracted all day," Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.

"What are you talking about? My black slacks and white button-up? That's not sexy," Alex said. Michael bit down on his lip, eyes scanning over him anyway.

"Don't forget the bowtie," Michael breathed, taking another step closer, "Can I touch you?"

"Depends," Alex said, watching Michael snap his eyes up to meet his to wait for the permission he needed, "Did you finish that book report that's due tomorrow?"

"Yes," Michael answered.

"Mhm, what was it about?" Alex asked. Michael gave a soft sigh of disbelief, his shoulders dropping.

"Really, Alex?" Alex didn't budge. "It was about the roles the different women in Okonkwo's life played."

"Length?"

Michael gave a soft, pathetic whine. Alex leaned back against the wall, thighs spread wide and letting Michael continue to bounce up on his toes.

"1,534 words, double spaced," Michael answered.

"And?"

"And MLA format, c'mon, Alex," he groaned. Alex allowed a small smile and raised his hand, gesturing him forward. Michael broke out in a smile, barrelling forward to fit between his thighs and his lips meeting Alex's.

Alex locked his legs around his hips, holding onto the back of his head as he kissed him without thought. It was slow, deep, deliberate as Michael pressed in as much as he could. Alex leaned his head against the wall, Michael holding his hips at the edge of the desk to keep them close to his.

Touching him made it obvious how pent up with unused energy he was. He didn't have practice this morning, leaving him extra antsy and needing an outlet. Alex started to push off his letterman jacket with one hand, leading his head to the crook of his neck. Michael shook of the jacket and audibly sighed in relief as Alex touched his arm, slipping under the short sleeve.

"That why you couldn't wait?" Alex asked, voice breathy as Michael skillfully kissed and bit at his neck without leaving a mark. He pulled up the bottom of his shirt to touch more of his skin, feeling the way it helped him relax.

"I just," Michael whispered, pausing just for a second to speak as he squeezed Alex's hips, "There's so much fucking chaos in my head, sometimes I just need you to make it shut the fuck up."

"Sex is really that distracting for you?" Alex asked, laughter in his voice. To him, sleeping with people definitely didn't make his brain stop. If anything, it made him think more.

"No," Michael breathed, his face still in Alex's neck, "It's just you."

Alex felt his entire body go rigid and he thought about pushing him away. It felt like he crossed some sort of unspoken line, but he hadn't. Not really. It was just... A lot.

"Dreaming about you was actually kinda nice, sexy outfit aside,* Michael admitted, huffing a laugh, "Woke up feeling well rested for once."

"Um," Alex breathed, swallowing harder than he meant to. He let his legs drop from where they were locked around his hips. "Maybe we should..."

"Nah, I'm good, sorry," Michael said, lifting his head and kissing him again. Alex pushed away his concerns probably a little too effectively, focusing on his lips as he grabbed a handful of his hair.

They kissed and touched until the bell rang. That part was unintentional and they had to be each other's mirror, fixing up each other's hair and their clothes to make sure they looked normal whenever they went to their next class. Alex deliberately avoided eye contact, not ready to face the weird admissions that came up.

"So, uh, you'll come over after you get out of band practice?" Michael clarified before they left.

"Do I need to? I mean, you already finished your paper," Alex pointed out. Michael's eyes flickered over his face.

"Uh, yeah, right, nevermind," Michael said, putting some space between them until his back hit a stack of chairs and he jumped. Alex furrowed his eyebrows. That was easily the least smooth he'd ever seemed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Michael said firmly, "My dad's just working late and I had some math homework, but yeah I'm good."

"You're good at math, Guerin," Alex laughed.

"I know," Michael said, a smile slowly coming to his face, "Which is why I said I'm good. Let's go, don't wanna be late."

Alex left first, waiting outside the gym as Michael locked up both the office and the gym. His better judgement told him to put more space between them, let Michael take some space so he could realize whatever he was feeling wasn't real. It'd be gone as soon as he gave it some thought and Alex needed to avoid hurting himself.

But, as Michael locked the gym door and the bell rang telling him he was late for class, Alex didn't budge.

"So, I'll see you after practice?" Alex said. Michael looked at him with wide eyes, but it slowly bled into a sweet smile and he nodded.

Alex headed to class, knowing he was making a mistake and refusing to have any regrets.

[for-ests]

Love It If We Made It: Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Part 1)

[ my masterlist ] Part 2

Warnings: angst, few mentions of death

Word count: 5, 105

Summary: You are Karasuno's volleyball manager, and when you tag along to their first match against Aoba Johsai, you reconnect with your childhood friend, Oikawa Tooru. A relationship soon develops, along with feelings that weren't present before. Problems soon arise though, because of his reputation, and your troubled past that he didn't know about. 

Everything happens for a reason.

That's what you always told yourself, realizing that one choice you made could lead to endless possibilities and situations you never thought you would find yourself in. It was far too easy to slip up, and let the world you had spent years creating turn to dust and fall between your finger tips.

You learned that the hard way, yet you were strong enough to pick yourself back up.

Joining the Karasuno Volleyball club as their manager came out of desperation on your end. In truth, it was a favor for your friend Kiyoko, who knew you were going through a tough time. When she explained the challenges, but emphasized that she couldn't do it all herself, you decided it was a good way to take your mind off things, while also helping others. Kiyoko was quiet, but it was her way of showing you she cared, by sharing her world with you and providing an outlet.

You needed something to do. Something that you could focus your energy on to forget your ex-boyfriend, the boy that had broken your heart. Along with that emotional trauma, you also had to deal with a devastating death in your family, your younger brother. Within the blink of an eye, those two events had changed you as a person. For two months, you had locked yourself away in your room to deal with it. And those who cared for you had started to grow worried.

That's why you were beyond relieved when you first walked into that gym, bombarded by underclassmen that soon became your friends. They were so happy, they were so passionate. Their optimistic nature began to inspire you in other aspects of your life.

Knowing you had a rambunctious group of boys to take care of, all the while alongside your friend, the massive hole in your heart began to repair itself.

As the weeks passed, the bond between you and the Karasuno volleyball club grew stronger, and you found yourself falling back into your healthy habits. You were smiling again, you were laughing again.

"What are you thinking about Y/N?" Hinata surprised you suddenly with a question. He had practically teleported to your side so quickly that you jumped.

"Oh!" You laughed, looking down at him with a smile to mask the once nostalgic expression that had graced your face. "I'm just really proud of you guys for making it this far."

The two of you stared down at the polished wood floors, the rows of stands, and the many, many schools that were preparing their fan sections for their upcoming games. It was the fall tournament, and the boys had won their first couple games—but now they were going to face an strong opponent- Aoba Johsai.

"Not you guys, it's us." Hinata said, conviction heavy within his tone. "We couldn't have done this without you."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you nudged him. "You're laying it on thick today."

Grinning, the orange-haired first year gave you a thumbs up. "I just want our Senpai to know that she's appreciated."

"-you have done a lot for us." Nishinoya joined in as the rest of the group caught up with you and Hinata.

All the boys had heard about your brother's accident. The trauma of it all was still looming over your head, threatening to take over your conscious at any moment. Perhaps the boys knew that being able to help and take care of them was a replacement for the family member you had lost. It felt good to be apart of a group again, with people who appreciated your time and efforts.

"Then I hope we win today." You made sure to use the inclusive pronouns. "So you didn't waste my time!"

"There she is!" Tanaka laughed a little too loudly. "Stop looking so nervous and keep making those jokes."

"I'm not nervous." You puffed your lip out, realizing the entire team had now surrounded you.

"You look really nervous." Kageyama finally spoke in monotone, seeming to deal with his own nerves in a completely different way.

"Okay fine." You grumbled. "I'm nervous."

The boys laughed.

"Why?" Kiyoko joined the huddle, looking concerned as she gazed at your face. You were trying really hard to remain calm.

Awkwardly twirling your hair between your finger tips, you tried to avoid locking eyes with anyone. "I don't want to put pressure on any of you-"

"Just tell us, it's okay Y/N." Suga's calm and reassuring voice whispered from behind you. The look in his eyes conveyed that he already knew what you were thinking, because that was also what was on his mind. This was your last year. Your last tournament. If you lost; it would be over.

"I really need you guys to win." You said. "Because I don't want this to be our last game."

It was true, when you thought about it for long enough, the threat of your time in the Karasuno volleyball club could be over in an instant.

Kiyoko gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, knowing you had grown to love the sport, and it's players, as much as she had. This moment was bittersweet.

"We will try our best, Y/N." Hinata said without his usual smile. Whenever that happened, you knew he was serious.

A brief moment of silence hung over the group, as if their situation had finally sank in.

You finally lifted your head to meet everyone's gaze. "Thank you all, really. Being apart of this team has helped me more than I can explain."

All of the boys replied instantly, more than happy that you were there with them. You could tell you meant a lot to them. Well, except with Tsukishima— but you knew you would eventually get there.

"Alright everyone, let's get to work." Coach Ukai encouraged as the tender moment faded. "We can't disappoint our managers."

He nodded at you, and you smiled back. When you really wanted to, you were a great pep talker.

"Now, Use your looks to distract our opponents!" Tanaka teased as he walked past you. Teasingly, you stuck your foot out to try and trip him- but his fast reflexes allowed him to casually step over it.

"Nice try!" He boasted.

Giggling from the interaction, you and Kiyoko crossed the volleyball court and to the coaching staff benches.

"Third years now have the ability to participate in the spring tournaments." Kiyoko said as the guys wandered off to begin warm-ups. "So if you want to, we can come back next semester."

"Really?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God."

"I could tell you were getting sentimental."

Feigning discomfort, you slumped next to her dramatically. "Knowing that beforehand would have been nice. I just embarrassed myself in front of the team."

"I think they needed to hear that from you." She said with honesty.

The genuine expression she wore warmed your heart. You and Kiyoko were incredibly different, yet incredibly similar. You always appreciated the time you spent with her, she was an important friend.

Your eyes drifted to the opposite side of the net. The team still hadn't arrived for warm-ups.

"We're playing Aoba Johsai right?" You asked, eyes searching the gym for their supposed school colors.

"Yes." Kiyoko had already immersed herself with writing down notes on her clipboard.

The name Aoba Johsai felt so familiar, as if you knew someone who attended that high school. Yet, you couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Though you were well-known at Karasuno, you were unsure about other high schools in the area. You weren't the type of girl to care about people you didn't interact with on a daily basis, even if you were considered popular.

You just went about your days trying to be kind, and trying to make a name for yourself. The last thing you wanted to be known for was what happened earlier in the year. You didn't want to be pitied.

But sometimes, the people from your past are the only ones that can heal you. Sometimes, it's better to reflect and appreciate everything that happened, even if it hurts.

Everything happens for a reason. Even if that reason doesn't seem clear at first glance.

The gym doors squeaked open, and in waltzed Karasuno's opponent- Aoba Johsai.

Though only a portion of the fan section had arrived, excited cheers sounded from the stands. You scowled, wishing your classmates had come to support your team. It definitely would have had an effect on the players, since half of them loved praise and affection.

Starting from the bottom already put you at a disadvantage. Unlike your opponents, Karasuno had a reputation to build back up. Every game counted. Every game mattered.

With that thought in mind, you had lost focus through all the noise. You could feel your nerves creeping back, threatening to overtake your smile, one that was needed as a morale booster for your players.

"Look pretty." Kiyoko teased, mocking Tanaka's ridiculous suggestion. Not every boy got worked up about girl managers with good looks like him and Nishinoya.

But still, out of habit, you ran a hand through your hair and flipped it behind your shoulders. Though you weren't the star of the show, you could still feel eyes on your back.

You needed to keep your composure. Because of her extended time as the volleyball club manager, Kiyoko has perfected her posture.

"I'm going to get some water." You whispered, standing up from the bench. That would definitely be the best option since your throat was starting to tighten.

Walking quickly, you reached the shared water table that was provided to both teams. A great plus when participating in tournaments.

Out of curiosity, as you grabbed a water bottle and took a sip, your eyes drifted to the other side of the net, where you were met with a striking, familiar, set of deep brown eyes.

For a moment that seemed to stretch past time limitations, you stood frozen in place.

"Tooru?" You whispered, voice drowned out by the cheering and movements of the players on court.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. It had been years since you parted ways.

Oikawa had been staring at you before you realized it was him. His look of astonishment quickly switched to one of wonder once he realized your lips had formed his name. "Y/N?" He mouthed back, flashing his notoriously handsome smile.

Without thinking, you crossed the threshold to the other side of the court.

"Oh my god-" You managed to choke, stopping abruptly in front of his towering figure. "I never thought..."

His expression wavered, as if it was begging you to follow through with the natural actions that filled your mind.

As if you had done it the day before, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a tight embrace. For the first time in a long time, you didn't care what anyone else thought about your actions.

"Hi again." He chuckled at how rash you had become, knowing you must have been overwhelmed to see him with how openly you were showing your emotions. Curling his arms around your torso, Oikawa chuckled in your ear. "You look great."

You pulled away, studying the changes he had made to his appearance. He had grown into his stalking height, one that he used to get teased for. His hair was silkier, his eyes wiser.  "So do you!"

The boy's touch lingered. "Wow." He breathed, short on words. "I never thought I'd see you again, but I really hoped."

You met his piercing gaze, one that seemed to flicker across parts of your body that a normal friend would restrict themselves from staring.  "Me too."

Your excitement passed though, as soon as you realized that the eyes of both teams were on you. Darting your eyes away in embarrassment from your rash actions, you recognized another familiar face. The regret that had built up inside of you dissipated within an instant.

"Haijime!" You waved, beckoning him to come closer.

"Hi, Y/N." He smiled, also bending down to give you a friendly hug. A hug that was much different than Oikawa's.

Teasingly, you continued the conversation. "I see that you two are the same. Still obsessed with volleyball."

Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Duh, of course. But what's more surprising is that you're a volleyball manager?"

"Yeah, I never thought that would happen." Iwaizumi added. "We inspired you, didn't we?"

Grinning from ear to ear, you nodded, reflecting on the hours that you had practiced with them. Before you had moved, the three of you would spend hours at the gym. Joining the Karasuno volleyball club had rekindled your love for the sport. And the boys were surprised that you had so much previous knowledge, which was now obvious that it had come from Oikawa.

Though what saddened you was that you had forgotten all about that. Your wholesome memories had been replaced with something far more grim.

"Hey!" The Aoba Johsai coach yelled from the opposite side. "Get back to business, all of you!"

The three of you turned and noticed that the rest of the team had stopped what they were doing, and seemed to be gossiping about your relationship to Oikawa and Iwaizumi. You immediately blushed, your contempt flooding right back in.

"Oi! don't look at her like that! She's not a piece of meat!" Oikawa pointed aggressively at his teammates, causing them to scatter and pretend they had been invested in their warm up practices the entire time.

"You're just mad that everyone is staring at her, and not you." Iwaizumi gave him a slap on the back for good measure. "Focus now."

Iwaizumi wandered off, leaving you one more brief moment with Oikawa. He glanced behind him, then back to you, looking somewhat regretful. It was most likely because the outcome of this game was going to be disappointing for one of you.

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" He asked, yet it came out more desperate. In a way that caused your heart to hammer in your chest. You really couldn't figure out if it was because of him, or if it was because of all the eyes you could still feel pointed towards you.

Throughout your younger years, Oikawa had boosted your confidence, and pushed you outside of your comfort zone. But things were slightly different now. Someone as outgoing as him could tell you had become timid, for reasons he didn't know yet, but hoped he would eventually figure out.

"Good luck, Tooru." You smiled. "You'll need it."

All he could do was flash you a devilish smile.

Oikawa had always been a flirt. It was somewhat comforting to know that his bubbly personality hadn't changed. At least on the surface. He had always commanded the attention of everyone in the room, which made your more reserved nature recoil in embarrassment.

But now, at least on the surface, you could handle it.

Because your parents moved all those years ago, you had never gained the opportunity to tell him how much he had meant to you. But as you watched his presence command the movements of his team, you realized that now was your chance.

Turning back to your teammates, who were all as equally surprised, you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry for interrupting." You apologized.

"Y/N, you know Oikawa?" Kageyama was the first one to ask.

"Y-yeah... we were friends in middle school, before I moved here."

"Interesting." Hinata dramatically set his chin in his hand, stroking it as if he had a goatee. "Y/N-chan knows both the kings!"

Kageyama immediately smacked the back of Hinata's head. "Shut up dumbass!" He scolded.

You stifled a laugh, encouraging them to continue on practicing, reassuring them that you were still crossing your fingers for Karasuno to win.

"Y/N took my suggestion a little too seriously." Tanaka sighed, watching you shyly make your way back over to the coaching bench.

"She's so popular and beautiful." Nishinoya added. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really wish I was Oikawa right now."

Feeling more pumped up than you had before, you shouted a cheer from the sideline. "Don't disappoint me boys!"

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Knowing that volleyball meant the world to Oikawa, you were somewhat relived that Aoba Johsai had won the match.

You would be there for your team in the end, but in this moment, you couldn't be there for Oikawa. You hadn't been for years. That's why you were relived, knowing you couldn't stand to see him upset.

"Don't look at me like that." He teased.

"Like what?" You deadpanned, trying hard to remain upset with him, since he had just ruined Karasuno's chance at participating in the fall nationals.

"Like you're trying to hate me. Because I know you can't."

Finally cracking a smile, you averted your gaze with embarrassment. "You're right."

Oikawa instinctively stepped closer. The proximity caused your heart to pound in your chest, surprisingly because you had never felt like this with him before.

"Even if we lost, I still would have felt that I won." The boy didn't need to explain what he was referring to, because you knew it was about you. It was because you were in his life again.

Trying to remain calm, you scrunched your nose. "Now you're laying it on thick."

Seeming to accept the challenge, Oikawa continued with his flirtations. "I find it strange that I usually get everything I want, but I somehow never got you." The third year laughed sadly, staring up at the pale blue sky. He had always hoped to see you again, but he had never expected it to be in this way.

"You don't even know me anymore." You said, not intending for your words to come out so harshly.

You were right. Oikawa hated it, but you were. And for some reason it made you that much more attractive. Personality wise, and looks wise. Your maturated appearance didn't help his thoughts from wandering.

He had missed your presence more than he had realized. Knowing that you were going to be in his life again gave him a strange sense of hope. It seemed that he had been holding onto them at dream since you parted ways at the end of junior high.

Your parents moved away, taking you along with them. Since your childhood friend was no longer your neighbor and you didn't go to the same high school, your friendship prematurely ended.

Oikawa wish he had tried harder to keep contact, but something told him you might be better off without him. He was going through his own troubles, and needed to focus on himself.

"I should have called you, or something... I don't know." Oikawa admitted. Though it had been years, he still felt comfortable enough around you to speak his mind.

You were the only girl he could ever do that with. He had searched far and wide to replace you, but he always ended up empty handed. Perhaps he should have searched for you instead.

"It's okay." You assured, knowing that life had moved fast for the both of you. You would never hold a grudge against him for that, being young and naive, trying desperately to fit into your new environments. It also didn't help that neither if you had cellphones when you moved away, therefore making it practically impossible to keep in contact. "We were both busy."

Oikawa knew you were putting on an act, but it also seemed genuine. To him, you had always been confusing, your thoughts and emotions so complex that it frightened him. Girls like you had always been hard to find. Ones that were able to explain their resonating so well that it caused them to reflect on their own actions and behaviors. You had always kept Oikawa in check.

But right now, the spirit that he had grown to love was barely visible. He could tell you were happy to see him, but something inside you had been wounded. Whatever it was, Oikawa could tell you were hurting. And every fiber in his being wanted to fix it.

"What happened to you, Y/N?" He asked suddenly, the look in his eyes convincing you that you had done a terrible job concealing your emotions.

Averting your gaze, you shifted awkwardly on your toes. "A lot has happened, Tooru. Too much to explain now."

You could hear the boys loading into the bus, some of them shouting your name in reminder to hurry up your conversation. You glanced back and saw that Kiyoko was waiting outside the vehicle for your return.

Smiling to dispel the haunting memories, you continued. "I would rather hear about you for now. You must be really happy that you won."

"I worked hard...I worked my ass off for years to get where I am today." He kicked a rock across the cement sidewalk. "Watching Kageyama play so well helped me realize that I had been slacking. I guess I forgot what that feels like."

"But?" You pushed him to continue.

Oikawa grimaced, and for a moment, you wished you hadn't asked that question. "Our next opponent will be harder."

It was true. Oikawa had worked hard all his life. He hadn't been blessed with raw talent like his underclassmen Kageyama, but he followed his dream, he had followed his heart.

For some reason though, as he stared at your glowering expression, he began to second guess himself. Maybe he had been doing it wrong.

"Don't give up then." You said, voice wavering with conviction that surprised him. "Whether you were born with it or not, you still have talent. There's still ways to utilize that after High-school. If you really love volleyball then you will continue."

Oikawa's eyes widened.

"This is strange coming from you, who's been rubbing off on you?"

You chuckled. "Nobody. I just know what to say to you."

You were right again. You encouraged him in the most perfect way, but you never praised him like the others. Oikawa's mother always told him to never accept too much praise, and to never get too full of himself.

You were real. You weren't fake like the other girls who only fawned over him for his looks. He would have preferred you to watch him from the stands with genuine interest for the sport, unlike the other girls who were only there for him.

Why?

Because it was the truth. And it was normal. People who work hard to get to a certain point, stop once they reach it. But that's not what he had done. He kept trying. The boy tried harder than he needed to become the best.

No matter what anyone said, Oikawa knew he had to keep trying. He couldn't let his pride get the best of him like it had in the match against Karasuno.

Just by looking his way, he knew what you were thinking. Only a girl as special as you could make him realize that. A girl that had known him from the beginning.

He laughed at first, causing your eyes to drift towards him. You didn't seem surprised, instead, you were calm. "Well, I'm glad that hasn't changed."

You smiled as your hair rippled to the side from a gust of wind. "I missed you, Tooru." The tone of your voice was filled with hope, directly asking him to make the first move, and to not let you leave without a promise to see you again.

"I think it's finally time that you gave me your number." Oikawa held his phone out for you. You tried desperately to hide the blush that was creeping along your face. Everything he did was flirtatious, yet in a way that was childish and made you remember how you used to play with him back in primary school.

After typing in your number, you handed him back his phone. The entire time, you could feel his eyes on you, studying, lingering.

"Well," you apologized, gesturing behind you. "I can't keep them waiting."

"Go ahead, Y/N. I'll text you."

"I'll be waiting." You whispered, barely audible enough for him to hear. Turning on your heels and jogging towards the bus, you glanced behind your shoulder one last time, as if you were afraid to let him escape your gaze. Times were different now, you would see him again. You were sure of it.

You flashed him a smile.

Oikawa shoved his hands in his pockets. You would never know that you had already won over his heart. You had all those years ago, and your presence within him had remained.

Then you left, hoping and praying that he would keep his promise. Hoping and praying that nobody had taken your place.

True love wasn't real, you knew that well enough from your past experiences. Yet deep down, your heart claimed differently. You could anticipate what was going to happen.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Four months ago

Your hands trembled.

Your thoughts raced as you swung your legs over the railing of your balcony, gazing at the stars that twinkled brightly in the sky.

Your bare feet brushed the plants underneath you, fresh dew gathering in their crevices.

You managed to smile.

It was a quiet and beautiful night. The moon illuminated the oak trees so mysteriously, it would have intrigued you on any other night.

But right now...

All you wanted to do was forget him.

It had been almost a month since the breakup, but you couldn't seem to forgive his iniquitous mistake.

You were a relatively calm and understanding person. But his betrayal had left you in shambles. Haruki was his name, and he had cheated on you with a girl in a different class- who knew that he was your boyfriend. A girl that hated you for no reason, only because you had something that she did not.

You had never been in a situation like this. Nobody had ever taught you how to handle the feelings that came along after heartbreak.

Your supposed first love had cheated on you, yet you didn't know how to respond. How could love just... disappear? Did he ever even love you? Had you wasted the last two years of your life on him?

You were bitter, angry, and confused. Time was supposed to heal wounds, and it did, but only to an extent.

You were a completely different person now. Some would say stronger, but some would say weaker. You had been out of touch for quite some time. And now you were finally sinking back into reality.

But what made you the most addled, was that you couldn't remember his face. It made you so angry to realize that you could forget a face you had studied for so long. Your stomach felt sick as you tried to remember the color of eyes, the taste of his lips, his smile, anything... But you were blank. You had already started to forget about the man you loved, but with good reason.

You had been so lost. And that's why it hurt so bad. You had been vulnerable, you had been taken advantage of. You felt sick knowing you didn't break from his spell on your own.

You winced, partly from the nighttime breeze, and partly from the cold hard truth. Haruki was the liar. But somehow you felt like it was your fault. How could you ever trust someone like that again? You had fallen head over heels for someone who was way under your league, pouring all of your love into the relationship.

You had tried your best to make it work, you had given him everything. All of your time, all your emotions, and all of your body.

But it was never enough. Why were you not enough?

You had made a fool of yourself. You had begged him to stay, because you felt guilty about letting him take your virginity. Haruki had cheated on you, thrown your love away like it was nothing, and left without seeming to care. But the thing was, you still cared.

You could only hold yourself together around your family and friends. But when you were alone like this, your mind drifted away.

You regretted the decisions you'd made with him. You really did. You had blindly followed a boy into a destructive relationship, thinking that he could be a man. Thinking you could fix him, and thinking you could make him better.

But if someone doesn't want to change, they won't. It hurt like hell. Because that's when you realized that people always lie.

Your love was wasted on a boy who didn't deserve it.

Guilt crept into your subconscious. Though you didn't want to admit it, you felt that you had disappointed whoever you were going to end up with in the future.

You leaned against the metallic railing, ears perking up at the undertone of cicadas. They sang mindlessly into the night, like you once had.

It wasn't meant to be, and that was alright. Yet it was still painful, the memories causing tears to prick at your eyelids. You felt helpless at times like this. Why couldn't you just forget about everything and move on?

You desperately wanted to, but deep inside, something was urging for you to never forget this pain. You had spent countless nights in this very position, staring up at the stars, cloudy sky or clear.

And it finally spelled out for you. You were never meant to brush these emotions aside. Instead, you urged to hold them close to your heart. You would never forget your mistake, so you would never make it again.

You had learned, you were stronger. You were different.

You had to put on a show for far too long, masking the pain Haruki had caused you until it was too late.

Now your broken heart was already healing.

Looking up into the black sky once again, you smiled for the first time in days. Tomorrow you would be looking at the same stars through a different lens.

You were changing, while he would stay the same. That was the greatest revenge of all. You would live on without him.

That was what you had convinced yourself until your mother called you the next day, and relayed the devastating news that your brother had died in an accident.

And just like that, two of the most important people in your life were gone.

And back into the spiral you fell.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Tag list!! lmk if you want to be added for the next part <33

@ardorwrites-hq-mha​ @cuddlyasahi​ @vventure @writeiolite​ @allywritesimagines​ @benewol​

[rae-is-typing]

Universal Language

Description: You, music and the Avengers

Characters: You, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Thor, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker and Pepper Potts because I love her

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, mentions of little Stevie getting beat up, and mild language. If there is something I missed, please let me know.

Disclaimer: Some are longer than others, some have dialogue, and I couldn’t think of anything for Rhodey (I’m so sorry!) Tell me what you think, I was trying something new for this one. If you want something more in-depth, lemme know :)

Word count: ~ 2.5k

Tony took you in when you were a toddler. He knew jack shit about raising a child, and enlisted the help of a nanny,. That is until Pepper made him realize how much he was missing of his daughter’s life. He didn’t even know you started crawling. However, he knew the only thing that got you to stop crying was music. He also knew that banging on things rhythmically was your favorite pastime. From then on, he knew that he was going to have a little musician on his hands.

Tony

In Tony’s opinion, the only good things your mother gave you were life and your knack for the arts, especially music. Rhodey and Pepper saw it, too. You took to music the way Tony took to mechanics. He loved your adorable pout when you were figuring the notes out, and the way your face brightened the room when you finally played it right.

The first thing he got you was a toy xylophone when you were three. He would watch you try and replicate the music he was playing over his speakers. You’d look up at him with tearful eyes when you couldn’t get it. He would gently take the mallet from your hands and copy the music, then he’d give it back to you so could copy him. Your giggles of glee when he played were something he’d never forget. He used his knowledge of the piano to help you learn music.

You were six when he got back from Afghanistan. Even at that young age, you knew things would be different. Your father had been gone for months. His arm as in a sling and he looked sick. He pushed you away for a few weeks after that, only staying in the lab, not even letting you stay in the child-proof area he had set up all those years ago. You didn’t understand why he was different, you only understand that he was different.

One night, you were playing in the main room. Pepper was done for the day, and Obadiah was far away and wouldn’t be back for a really long time; you were all alone with only JARVIS looking after you. You were trying, and failing, to play Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. You kept hitting the wrong keys and messing up the rhythms. Frustrated, you huffed and crossed your arms.

Unbeknownst to you, your dad was behind you. He smiled softly, walked closer to you, picked you up, set you on his lap and played the phrase you were trying to. You demanded he play the rest. Soon enough, he had a sleeping kid in his lap.

You were eight when you had your first performance with an audience. It was a piano recital in a small auditorium at your school. He sat in the front, unashamedly cheering for you and loving you. He was there whenever you had solos, and he cried for a lot of them, not that he would ever admit that to anyone but you or Pepper. He records all of your performance, e even has videos of your progress from a four-year-old you playing Mary Had a Little Lamb to sixteen-year-old you busting out Beethoven like its nothing.

Now, he asks FRIDAY to play back recordings of you singing or playing. It helps him calm down, knowing he’ll always have a piece of what matters most to him with him at all times.

Steve

You met Steve when you were ten years old. It was the aftermath of the Battle of New York. Steve and the rest of the team, excluding Thor, had moved into the tower. While you were thrilled to see Natalie-Natasha again, you were a shy kid, opting to stay with Pepper or your dad and away from the others. The larger-than-life Captain America intimidated the shit out of you.

It wasn’t until you saw him sketching in the common are you began to consider him an actual human and not a walking action figure. You had been trying your hand at drawing for months, and while you had made considerable progress, your work always looked off for some reason. After watching him draw for weeks, you managed to snatch his sketchbook, flip through it when left to go get something from another room. He cleared his throat, startling you into dropping the book. You picked it up, heat in your cheeks, and sheepishly handed it back to him with a small, almost scared, “Sorry,”

He only smiled at you, ten-year-olds weren’t all that subtle when it came to spying. He sat you down on the couch, and began showing you all of the drawings he felt were appropriate. Some of them were memories of war-ravaged battle fields, and he didn’t want to give you nightmares. There were lots of old-timey Brooklyn, a man named Bucky, a vaguely familiar, but very beautiful woman named Peggy and Steve’s Ma, Sarah.

You pouted and explained that whenever you tried to draw, it never came out right. He nodded, then smiled. “I’ll tell you what, you help me learn Piano, I’ll help you learn to draw.”

Clint

Clint is a vent-dweller and, much like everyone else on the team, he struggles with PTSD. He uses the vents as a safe space, a way to escape the nightmares and the heartache from the past. However, he doesn’t like to feel alone. He often says above the lab to hear Tony’s loud music, snarky banter with his AI’s, and his empty threats to the ‘bots. Other times he’ll stay above the gym if he knows that Steve or Natasha are doing late night workouts. The soft grunts and the sounds of the equipment are sufficient to keep the loneliness at bay. On very rare occasions, he stays above the kitchen to hear Vision mutter to himself while attempting, and generally failing at cooking food.

Soon enough, he found the music room. Well, art floor.

You were up late, practicing a solo that you couldn’t quite get, but weren’t ready to give up on. He paused, getting clear tone with his hearing aids in. He soon found himself up above the floor whenever you were playing late. The music was a nice distraction, and he could feel himself become happy with your progress, small feelings of pride swelling in his chest at your success. One night, he even left a note on the piano asking you to learn and play Clair de Lune for him. The next week, you told him to be there at midnight, and sure enough, the beautiful piano tune floated up to the vents.

Natasha

You’ve known Natasha since she was Natalie. You mostly kept your distance until one day. You were struggling to play something. You fumbled with your instrument, while penciling something onto the sheet music. She watched you for a couple minutes before asking if you  needed help. You huffed out a petulant “No,” before proceeding to struggle for another five minutes. Defeated, you asked for help. She managed to help you figure out the fingerings and the accidentals.

You took up dancing a little later on, and she began helping you after your regular class. With her guidance, you quickly became one of the best dancers in your classes, always rising to the challenge with the work-ethic she helped instill in you.

Even later on, you became her pupil once more when learning to fight. She knocked you on your ass more times than you can count, and still does all the time. But, with her help, you’ve learned how to kick some serious ass.

Thor

It’s no secret that Thor is a big guy. He doesn’t know his own strength,and often breaks things when he wasn’t careful. Out of all the original Avengers, he intimidated you the most.

One day, you saw him holding your violin, examining it like a specimen under a microscope. You panicked, dropped everything and ran to him.  

You demanded he stop, resorting to pulling the bow from his hands. He was confused at the tiny child pulling the interesting midgardian play thing away from him.

“Let it go, Thor! You’ll break it!”

Thor frowned, still holding the violin.

“My apologies, young Stark. I do not know what it is, I was merely trying to find its function.” He says, handing it back to.

You relaxed a little, the initial panic wearing off. “It’s a violin, it makes music.”

“How?”

You got into position, put the bow to the strings and drug across the strings. A note rung put, and everything seemed to click in Thor’s mind.

The next time Thor came to visit, he brought Asgardian instruments for you to learn, try and play. You may or may not have cried out of joy.

Bruce

Bruce is a ball of stress, and that is evident to anyone that’s spent any amount of time with him. He uses music as an outlet, letting the sounds wash over him and makes some amount of stress go away. But there are days that things get too overwhelming, there are days where the headphones and opera don’t work, there are days where he needs something more.

Bruce knows that you play, he knows about your talent, and he’s even gone with Tony to watch you perform. There was a day when he shyly asked if he could watch you practice. You were all for it. You practiced in front of him, and he calmed don a lot more.

It became a routine of sorts, you playing, him offering some constructive criticism when he could and you even taught him a few songs on the piano.

Sam

You took the initiative of catching Steve up with modern music. One day, he sheepishly handed you The List, Working your way down, you finally landed on Marvin Gaye. Steve called his friend Sam in so you both could gush about the icon.

You and Sam ended up screeching singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough for him, and managed not to scare him off. You called it a successful day.

After that, you had put together a playlist for him, and had your dad create a portable sound system for his wings so he could fly listening to his fave.

Bucky

Bucky came to the tower after his time in Wakanda. Tony was wary, anyone in his situation would be. He wanted you to stay away from the ex-assassin indefinitely, and you didn’t blame him. You knew what Bucky did. However, you tried not to blame Bucky either. Steve explained the situation as best he could to you, and you understood that Bucky had been taken advantage of, used and manipulated.

Now that he was in the tower, Bucky wandered around the tower when he couldn’t sleep which happened to be most nights. One night, he heard something familiar, something that tugged at his chest in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Somewhere over the rainbow,”

He remembers a warm breezy day, the alley he pulled Stevie out the night before, reaming him for fighting more than usual because of the big day they had coming up. He cleaned him up. He remembers holding a washcloth to a small blond Steve as he tried not to hurt him too bad while he berated him for fighting again that week.

“There’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby,”

He remembers walking with Stevie to the theater, paying too much for the tickets and sitting beside his best friend watching color appear on a screen for the first time. Bucky smiles, letting the feeling of nostalgia and the longing for a simpler time linger for a moment longer before heading to another area of the labyrinth to explore.

Wanda

Wanda moved in when you were 13. You were so happy that you had another female in the tower to bond with. When she expressed interest in music, you jumped at the chance to teach her something, anything really. You tried a few things. You started with woodwinds, she couldn’t figure out the embouchure. You moved onto brass, she didn’t like the sounds. You settled on stringed instruments. Her choice was the acoustic guitar, and she was good. She picked it up almost immediately, easily learning the fingerings and chords.  Her favorite thing were duets with you, and you often played together whenever you two had time.

Peter

You saw how good Peter was for your dad. He finally had a mentee to teach. Tony really tried to get you into science, he really did. It didn’t work the way he thought it would, and damaged your relationship for awhile until he back off, letting you do you.

You were jealous, admittedly. You weren’t used to sharing your father’s attention with another person your age.

Then you got to know him. You found out through your dad that he was in marching band, and you needed to know more. You began spending a little time together, swapping band stories and laughing at memes. Soon enough, Peter hung out with you before going to working with Tony in the lab for a few hours. It was fun.

You learned the Mii Theme, the Kahoot theme and even put together a duet of meme music to annoy your dad with together.

Pepper

Pepper is your mother. No, she didn’t birth you, and you didn’t call her mom, but she has been there for you through everything. Through your father’s time in Afghanistan, the battle with Obadiah, your first day of middle school, whenever your dad was busy and you were upset, your first period. It didn’t matter, she was with you. She listened to you when you worked hard on a piece. Hell, she even helped you pick out your first professional grade instrument, despite knowing very little about them.

She encouraged you when were feeling less than, she helped pick you up when you were down, she taught how to act around the business assholes in Galas and events.

Pepper loved you and you loved her.

When the proposal happened, Pepper asked you to sing at the wedding. You took this role very seriously, singing ‘A Thousand years’ by Christina Perri and ‘Future Looks Good’ by OneRepublic.

When Morgan was born, you sang to her whenever you could. When she was old enough, you’d sit her on your lap and let her smash the piano keys like Tony did with you.

Pepper couldn’t think of a better older sister for her baby; she couldn’t think of any better daughters.

[awesometheydontknowiamhere]

Knockout

Diego Hargreeves X Plus Sized!Reader

Requested: Oh, yes! Multiple requests in my inbox.

“Any plus size Diego fics coming soon?”

“Can you do another Diego x plus size reader?”

“Could I request a Diego x plus size fic maybe where she’s a badass boxer but she is also kinda insecure when like Diego asks her out maybe thinks it’s a joke or something?”

Summary: You have it all. You’re a revered fighter, have an excellent support system of friends and family and spend most of your evenings with your crush, sweaty and hot on a mat. But when a chance at finding loves knocks on your door in the form of your crush, Diego Hargreeves, will you let him in or shut him out?

A/N: A few things I’d like to mention.

1.    There’s a Sylvia Plath quote hiding in here. Let me know if you find it.

2.    I absolutely love that so many people requested a plus size reader fic (I have 24 requests out of which 3 were for this)

3.    I spent nearly two full hours reading up about boxing terminology, just in case.

4.    I recently saw Never Back Down so boxing is all I can think about anyway.

5.    I might have changed the request a little bit because the reader suddenly had a life of her own and the story refused to be written in that particular way.

 6.    All of you, thin, fat, chubby, curvy, super tall, super short, somewhere in between, I love each and every one of you.

7. This could possibly be the prequel to Store Bought Hugs.

Warning: None. Maybe a bit of language.

Diego Hargreeves Taglist:  @wh3n-1t-ra1ns-1t-p0urs   @imultifandomstuff @w0nder-marie@chloemac86 @theladywholivesonthemoon   @hemogobllin@pansexualpaperdragons @gorgeourrific-nerd  @purplezebra68 @vividholland@bands-and-shietz @onlydeanandjensen @slither-in-a-half @reblogserpent@missscarlett1802 @lovelyheadrush   @mrsdiegohargreeves @mrsdiegohargreeves   @katylovescats @vividholland @lilithsweetghost@ynm1505 @siriusjohnpotter @ratfuckb0y @energy-for-fandoms-not-your-shit @writingsbychlo

Words: 1620

You ducked and avoided Diego’s approaching fist, and threw an uppercut which he skillfully dodged. This was routine for the two of you, pairing up together to practice anything from old school boxing to mixed martial arts. Diego needed it to be a good vigilante and have an outlet for his anger, though he wouldn’t admit that to anybody. As for you, you just loved the blood singing through your veins, sheer power flowing through your muscles.

You were quite the fighter in the gym, paralleled only to Diego, and he too, was aware of your repertoire of deadly moves.

Currently, he was trapped in a Peruvian necktie choke.

“Give it up, Hargreeves. You know you’re not going to last longer,” you said as you tightened the hold.

He remained silent. A smart move, considering he only had a limited air supply.

“Either you tap out or you break the fuck out of it. The clock’s ticking,” you said.

A few seconds passed and you tightened your hold on him, using the strength in your arms.

People were often deceived by your size. Nobody could believe your agility and strength as an MMA fighter until they saw you in action, thanks to your plus sized body. Quite a lot of spectators had trouble comprehending your skill but little did they know that you could knock an opponent out in a minute flat (you were known in the MMA circles for doing that thrice).

You hear a grunt followed by a tap on the mat and you immediately release the man, helping him onto his back.

“Hey, breathe. Long, deep breaths,” you said, burying the concern in your voice.

He simply nodded and you gave him a moment to adjust, rubbing his chest, trying not to feel him up under the thin, sweat- soaked t-shirt.

“Damn, baby. You are vicious,” he said as he sat up.

You smirked and both of you rose up, headed towards the water coolers.

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Only if you promise to actually put up a fucking fight,” you said, laughing.

He draped his arm around your shoulders and your heart skipped a beat.

“I do it so that you don’t cry yourself to sleep Y/N,” he said.

He walked you to the door like always and waved goodbye.

You walked the rest of the way home feeling warmth in your heart as you tried to hold on to the memory of his arm touching your bare shoulder a little longer.

Your crush on Diego wasn’t new. You fell for his nocuous moves and dirty, dry sense of humor. And when you caught a glimpse of him changing into a tank top one evening, there was no turning back.

Each night before bed you replayed your practice with him, trying not to combust from the sheer emotion you felt when you thought of his hands on your body. The moments where he pinned you to the mat and you waited several moments before you got out of his hold.

The next day at practice Diego was late. You quickly warmed up and picked up a pair of battle ropes. You bent your knees and got into position, visualizing the motion in your head and replicating it with your hands. You dropped the ropes and began walking over to the bench, to give yourself a minute as well as wait for Diego to show up.  

You halted to a stop, surprised to see him leaning against a stationary pole with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Hargreeves, what are you doing? Are you seriously standing here and checking out these girls as they work out?”

The corners of his mouth turned.

“I was watching you.”

A charged moment passed and you got a hold of your sensibilities.

“Yuck, does that line ever work?”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“It’s not a line,” Diego whispered and walked towards the mat, ready for your paired practice fights.

A couple hours passed and Diego emerged victorious, courtesy the new fluttering in your heart since his comment.

 He helped you pack your gym bag, his caramel arms flexing with each move. You stood there, silent and observing, swooning a little and falling for him a little more.

“Come on, I will walk you home,” Diego kindly offered.

You snapped out of your reverie.

“Diego, really, it’s fine. I can walk two blocks by myself, thank you very much,” your voice a smidge sarcastic.

“Don’t be like that Y/N, I want to walk you home. And  I think a bit of fresh air will do me some good,” he said, toeing the floor.

You immediately felt a pang of guilt. You knew he lived in the gym, in the cold basement. His desire for fresh air was understandable and you were hardly going to say no to a walk with him. Despite of what you had said earlier, you agreed and he swung his arm around you and both of you walked out into the street.

Thirty minutes and a quick detour to a smoothie shack later, you arrived at your building.

“Thanks for walking me home, Hargreeves,” you said.

“Thanks for letting me,” he replied with a smile.

He handed you your gym bag, your fingers brushing briefly against each other.

You wished him a good night and turned towards the door. As you took a step towards it you felt a warm hand around your wrist, leaving your hand outstretched between your bodies.

You turned to face him and he stepped closer, his hand dropping to yours.

Your heart was neatly lodged in your throat as you took in the proximity of your bodies.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Diego,” your said, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’d like to take you out, Y/N, on a proper date. Roses, moonlight, the whole deal,” he said.

He registered the alarm on your face before you could comprehend it.

“Or anything else. Whatever you want, babe. We could go to boxing match and cheer or take another walk,” he said in a single breath, words gushing out.

You closed your eyes for a moment and reopened them and stepped back, giving yourself a little space to think.

“Diego, why? Is this your idea of practical joke? Why are you asking me out, because that would actually imply that you like me and why on earth would you like me?” you asked becoming increasingly agitated.

“Why do you think I like you?” he quirked his eyebrow, the scar glistening under the city lights.

He stepped closer taking both of your hands in his.

“You are you. Unapologetically and unabashedly you. Very few people do this anymore. It’s too risky. First of all, it’s a hell of a responsibility to be yourself. It’s much easier to be somebody else or nobody at all. And you own every single part of that.”

You were stunned, speechless even. All your words had scrambled out onto the street after his declaration.

“And well. You kick my ass at MMA so that’s also incredibly hot,” he said with a chuckle making you laugh with him.

“You’re being awefully quiet. Please, say yes. I promise you won’t regret it.”

You smiled up at him, getting lost in you dark eyes framed by the scars on his face.

You leaned into him, your lips an inch away from his ear.

“Pick me up at 8 on Friday,” you said, placing a chaste kiss on his scruffy cheek, before running off into your building.

You rushed up the flight of stairs and ran into your apartment, looking out the window.

“Don’t you dare be late, Hargreeves. I have stockpile of chokes you haven’t even heard of,” you scream out into the street with a laugh.

“Wouldn’t even dream of it,” he yelled back.

He waved and blew you a kiss and then disappeared into the street.

You relaxed into your couch, replaying the conversation in your head, your stomach populous with butterflies.

You sighed a romance novel sigh.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

To Keep You Safe

Title: We wear red so they don’t see us bleed

Chapter: 5/?

Author:  hopeless_romantic_spoonie

Summary:  Life as the assistant to Tony Stark was busy, but boring. All of that changed when I touched something I shouldn’t have and woke up with strange new abilities. If I thought that trying to figure out my new place in life as an Avenger was tough, I had no idea what was in store for me once I ran into the frustrating God of Mischief, Loki.

Rating: E (later on)

Notes: Friendly reminder that this is un-Beta’d, so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors I no doubt missed during revisions.

Also on Ao3 here :)

Warnings for this chapter: Blood, language, and violence

~

After our talk, to his credit, Loki did give me a wide berth. For the next several weeks of life on the Compound, I trained and practiced with Natasha and Wanda, hung out with Thor and Sam, and watched TV with Steve without a single confrontation–let alone sighting. The Trickster God had to have been using whatever abilities he normally employed to keep tabs on everyone to steer clear of me. And that was one hundred percent peachy-keen in my book.

Tony and Bruce finally finished their extensive testing on all things me. It was decided that the only powers the mystery box gave me were geokinesis and an increased healing rate. When I asked for a reason why this happened, I was given some medical mumbo jumbo that instantly turned my brain to mush. Long story short, they didn’t know what the box had been, only what it had done to me, and it wasn’t going away. This was my new normal.

The knowledge that this wasn’t going away was one hell of a motivator to get a better handle on everything. And because of that, my grasp on my powers improved. I could control more than one object at a time, and it didn’t drain me physically nearly as much as it did in the beginning. Nor did it require such an emotional toll. I could draw on them without bringing forth the full scope of emotional upheaval as before, although that did seem to help. There was still so much work to do, but I was getting there. Slowly but surely.

As for my physical abilities, those lessons were kicking my ass just as much as I had anticipated. I wasn’t super strong like Steve or Thor, so I had to be more thoughtful and strategic when fighting. Brute force wasn’t going to work when I was only five and a half feet tall and preferred cookies to carrots. Natasha worked on teaching me various martial art techniques that relied more on striking effectively than hammering away at my opponent with my fists. It made sense but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard as hell. I limped away from our training sessions covered in bruises and nursing strained muscles more often than not. Thank goodness for accelerated healing. I needed it to keep up with the grueling sparring sessions.

~~~

Flashing red lights and F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoing throughout the entire Compound jerked me out of my exhaustion-induced sleep. “All Avengers report to the Quinjet immediately. All Avengers, gather your gear and report to the Quinjet immediately.”

I lurched out of bed and ran to my closet, throwing on a pair of dark jeans and a thick long-sleeved t-shirt. I didn’t have a custom suit like everyone else, but this seemed like it would do for whatever I would tackle. I shoved a sturdy pair of boots on my feet and I was barreling out the door.

Natasha was just leaving her room, already fully dressed and ready to kick ass. We both sprinted down the stairs and through the building, crossing the lawn into the hangar. Thor, Bruce, and Captain were all running inside the jet, followed by Natasha. Tony was poised at the edge of the ramp to get inside, looking anxious as he waved people in. When I tried to rush passed him he put his arm across my chest, barring my entrance.

“No can do, Poison Ivy. You’re not ready,” he stated, leaving no room for argument.

Not that I wouldn’t try.

“But what if I-?

“Nope. You stay here with Rock of Ages. F.R.I.D.A.Y. will keep you updated. You’d be a liability. We can’t risk it.” The visor over his face retracted into the suit, allowing him to level me with a hard stare. He didn’t even glance at Vision flying into the jet while holding Wanda securely in his arms.

“Get back. You’ll get burned,” he said more softly, a paternal concern twisting his lips into a frown. He pushed me away from the ramp and jogged inside, closing it behind him.

I had no choice but to back away out of the hangar, watching uselessly as the Quinjet started up and flew through an invisible opening in the force field surrounding the Compound. Once it was gone I pulled out my phone, checking the time. At only four in the morning, it was going to be a long day if all I did was sit around and wait for them to come back.

After heading back into my room and changing from jeans and boots into athletic shorts and tennis shoes, I headed to the gym. If I wasn’t ready for this mission I was going to be ready for the next one. Even if I had to spend hours taking out my frustration and anxiety on a punching dummy until my knuckles bled.

During a break around noon, I chugged water and wiped the sweat from my brow. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., any news?” I panted.

“Sorry, Jen. All I can say is that they made it to their destination and everyone is still alive,” she responded, somehow managing to sound remorseful even as a computer program.

I snarled in frustration and threw down the now empty water bottle, punishing the practice dummy in front of me an elbow to the face. Several hours of doing my best to beat the living daylights out of the dummy and it was no worse for the wear, while the soreness and exhaustion in my limbs weighed them down considerably. But it was this or stare at the TV or wall in the living room distractedly as my mind raced with all the things that could go wrong for them on this sudden mission, and this at least wore me out enough so that I might be able to sleep later.

“Perimeter breach. Perimeter breach. One helicopter on the main lawn,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang out through the compound and my phone in my pocket as red lights flashed throughout the Compound.

Just as I did that morning, I dropped what I was doing and sprang into action--despite my protesting muscles.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” I cursed, stopping short just outside the building. A sleek black helicopter was hovering over the middle of the Compound with four men dressed in black protective gear descending from the sides on ropes. As I watched in shock, two more helicopters came into view and began depositing their payloads of terrifying men as well.

As soon as their feet hit the ground, they raised impressive-looking guns into their sightlines and ran toward the main building. Right at me.

Ah hell.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., I could use some backup,” I grunted, crouching down behind a bush and looking around to see what I had nearby I could use as weapons. Some trees, basketball sized rocks and a giant decorative boulder were all I could see. Awesome.

“The team is still off-base, Jen,” she replied, her voice muffled from my phone in my back pocket. Super awesome.

It was a long shot, but I had to ask her anyway. “What about Loki?”

“He is handling the intruders on the West side of the Compound, Jen. Several groups have come in on foot.”

Loki was helping? What in the world was that about? Maybe it was just a chance to do something, wreak some havoc, as he had to be bored as hell cooped up here without an outlet. If his boredom and need for mayhem was keeping more men off of my back, I’d take it.

But, that still left the group in front of me for me to handle on my own. I’d never fought anyone, not really. Sparring with Nat and training with Wanda did not live up to this experience at all in terms of preparedness. I was the end of the line, though, so I had to try my best. Gritting my teeth, I focused on the ground, lifting my arms and pulling up as much dirt and debris from the grass as I could. The men slowed their advance at the peculiar sight, but only just enough to look at one another briefly before continuing. With a shout I sent the debris flying at them, hoping to blind them temporarily while I figured out what the heck I was supposed to do next. My weak plan wasn’t the most effective. I was disheartened as they crept on even as they blinked dirt from their eyes.

Plan B. I curled my fingers inward and ripped several thin branches from the tree nearest to myself. Aiming the sharp, broken ends at the men, I flicked my fingers outward and sent them flying with as much oomph as I could muster. Only one went through the neck of a man and sent him bleeding and thrashing to the ground. The rest hit their helmets or thick kevlar vests like they were nothing.

“I’m so screwed,” I muttered. My aim still wasn’t the best with multiple projectiles, and that was without having spent the morning taking out my frustrations in the gym. The adrenaline rushing through me could only do so much to compensate, and that wasn’t going to last forever.

The closest to me grabbed something off of his belt and threw it at the building behind me. I whipped my head around, tracking the beeping with my eyes to get a better look at what had been thrown. Having never seen one in real life, my brain stuttered over what it was for half a second. They had grenades?!

My feet carried me away from the building before I had made the conscious decision to move, propelling me as fast as possible from the explosive. It just wasn’t quite fast enough. The shockwave battered against me, followed by tiny pricks of pain all over the back of my body as white-hot glass embedded itself in my unprotected skin. The cry that tore through my lips was almost silent to my ringing ears, but it was enough to draw the attention of the men, who rained bullets down on me.

No time to think or run, I brought a large, decorative stone in front of me like a shield. I saw dust particles and chunks of rock fall to the ground and I struggled to keep it between me and the men. My teeth ground together and all the muscles in my body strained as I directed all of the energy that constantly coursed through me at holding up the massive weight while also slowly backing away from them. I just needed to get inside the building. I could take them out one at a time if I could get more cover. Maybe.

As soon as I was close enough to the now blown-out glass wall, I shoved my hands and, consequently, the boulder at two of the men and dashed inside, slamming my back into a concrete wall for cover and ignoring the wave of pain it brought to the new wounds I had just gotten. Thank goodness for modern minimalist architecture and adrenaline.

I took a few deep breaths and got to my knees, turning around to poke my head out to see who was left. Two pairs of legs were still beneath the human-sized boulder I had thrown, so that just left nine baddies for me to deal with. Going for broke and hoping that this was something I could do, I reached out towards a tree near the back of the group. I could feel the glowing life-force of it, from the tips of the branches to the roots.

“Here goes nothing,” I growled, directing my energy to the roots, willing them to grow. I reached out and pulled hard, and for my efforts, I saw the thick dark roots burst from the ground and race toward one of the men. They tangled around his ankles as I twisted my fingers in a circle, pulling him down and wrapping around his body. He panicked and fired his weapon wildly, trying to shoot the roots off of him, but only succeeded in hitting the stomach of one of his buddies. I urged the roots to wrap around his chest and neck, and the shooting stopped abruptly.

In the distraction of flexing my newfound powers, I failed to notice the man coming up around the wall until just before he shot. I ducked my head and the bullet lodged itself into the concrete inches from my ear, sending grit flying into my eyes. I wildly turned, flailing desperately and pulling another stone from outside to slam into the back of his unprotected neck.

As the man fell, I saw the muzzle of his gun flash before white-hot agony exploded in my shoulder.

In the movies, when someone gets stabbed or shot, usually they'll fly back dramatically and scream. They have a few seconds to mutter some last words and then it's over. Turns out getting shot isn't like the movies. I didn't fly back several feet, soaring through the air to sprawl ungainly onto the floor. I sank to sit on my heels, blinking harshly as my brain attempted to process the worst pain I'd ever experienced as it radiated from my shoulder. My hand shot up to cover the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood as it pulsed out of my body in time with my staccato heartbeat. It took several tries to take a deep breath, the action seemingly doing more harm than good as the movement tugged on my shoulder.

Gotta focus. I had to get my head in the game. The remaining seven bad guys were still coming, and fast. It didn’t matter that I was injured to them. They weren’t going to stop to give me a time out to get patched up, so I just had to keep going. My best bet on stopping them relied on my being able to see them which unfortunately meant sticking my head out of cover. I clenched my teeth as I got to my feet and let out a guttural battle cry as I turned around to face them.

I was most definitely going to die today, but when my friends returned and watched the footage, I didn’t want them to see me cowering in fear until one of them put a bullet in my brain. That wasn’t what being an Avenger was about. It was about fighting until the last breath, and taking down as many of these bastards as I could along the way. Sorry, guys. Sorry, Tony.

Heads turned in my direction, guns following suit. With one hand busy gripping my bullet wound, the other curled into a fist as I focused on bringing every single stone on the Compound lawn levitating in the air.

“Get down!” Loki shouted, running from the opposite side of the building toward me, looking the battle-hardened warrior in his leather armor. An invisible force knocked me to the ground with such force that the back of my head bounced against the tile floor.

And then everything became a blur.

Loki screaming in rage.

Deafening tearing and ripping sounds.

Bullets flying and smashing into the wall.

Warm blood matting my hair and pooling in the hollows of my neck.

Blood-curdling screams cutting off suddenly.

A pale, unfocused face.

Excruciating pain as I was jostled into strong arms.

Is this what dying feels like?

The scent of iron and sweat and leather and spice.

“I am not allowing you to die, damn it!”

And then darkness swallowed me whole.

~~~

A flurry of voices pulled me from the blissful, painless darkness.

“It’s been three days.”

“I know that. Her vitals are stable. You gotta give her time.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“What else can we do?”

I took stock of my body with my eyes closed. My limbs were heavy on the soft surface that I rested on, probably a bed. Besides the voices, a steady beeping that matched the painful drumbeat in my head. Probably a heart monitor, which meant that I was in some sort of a hospital. Itching fire burned on my shoulder, and I blamed that for the real reason why I had woken up. It was impossible to ignore, just like the loud voices echoing around the room.

“You can stop shouting in my room, for starters,” I croaked, my voice dry and scratchy from disuse. God, I sounded weak.

I peeled my eyes open only to immediately close them against the bright lights above me. Trying again, I opened them just enough to squint at my surroundings. I’d landed myself in the infirmary of the Compound once again. Not a hospital, but I had been close enough. A frazzled Tony, Natasha, and Thor appeared to be the culprits for the shouting match I’d just heard.

“If you’re going to shout, at least give me some more pain meds so I can sleep through it,” I grumbled, hoping that the bad attempt at humor would ease some of the anxiety from their faces as I tried to sit up in the bed, only to fall back down with a gasp as soon as I put weight on my shoulder. The shock of pain was enough to tell me that that was a very bad idea right now.

All three rushed over to me at once. Thor took my right hand carefully, mindful of the IV connected to the back of it, and Natasha took the left. Tony moved behind my bed only to reappear with a syringe full of unknown liquid that he injected into the IV line. Within moments a weight smothered the pain and pulled a sigh of relief from deep within me. Ahh, pain meds.

“Milady, I am so glad to see you awake,” Thor said softly, his thumb lightly stroking the backs of my fingers as he smiled down at me.

“We gotta work on your observation skills,” Nat teased, gesturing to my shoulder and giving me a thin smile.

“Pebbles, I thought I told you not to scare me like this,” Tony chided me, standing at my feet. His hands rested on my blanket-covered ankles, clutching them like I was going to run out of the room and get shot up again. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Once was enough for me.

“What happened?” I directed my quiet question at Tony, knowing he would have the most forthright answer of the bunch.

“We have been searching for these six rocks, called Infinity Stones. That’s what Vision has in his head, the Mind Stone. This guy called Thanos is trying to get all of them together. Reindeer Games says that he wants to rule the world with it, wipe out half of everything in existence. So, we’ve been trying to track them down,” he said, brow furrowed. “We’ve already destroyed one, well, Wanda did. The Mind Stone. Thor stole it from some nut job on another planet months ago. The Space Stone was in the Tesseract, which Loki had. When he and Thor escaped Ragnarok, Loki brought it back as a peace offering. So that’s one’s gone, too. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is programmed to look for certain… anomalies that might be one of the remaining stones being used. She’s found one in New York City, but the wizard that is currently using it won’t give it up. That’s a work in progress. Something sketchy was happening in New York City, and that was the alert that she gave us. It was Thanos, with the Soul Stone, trying to get the other stone from the wizard. We managed to get it from him. Took a few licks, Steve broke an arm and Wanda a leg, but it’s destroyed now. We’re still looking for the Power Stone and the Reality Stone,” he rambled, exhaustion lining his face as he recalled the events he had rattled off.

“That’s, um, a lot to take in,” I replied, my thoughts muddled by the glorious meds I had been given. That was a lot to unpack, and I wasn’t in any state to even try to do that. It could wait for another day.

“Yeah, so, anyway, we were off fighting Grimace when those assholes from Hydra attacked here. We didn’t even know about it until we got back onto the jet and F.R.I.D.A.Y. let us know. We booked it as fast as we could, but it had been almost a whole day since…” he trailed off, swallowing thickly and gripping my ankles just a little tighter as he shifted his gaze to my blanket-covered knees.

Natasha chimed in, “Tony was able to stream a live feed from F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s cameras. We saw everything.”

“You fought valiantly against the attackers. Loki took up the battle after you had fallen, finishing it in your stead,” Thor added, his voice clear and proud. Whether it was for me or his brother, that was to be determined. I was too exhausted to worry too much.

Tony nodded to Thor and Natasha in silent thanks. “Standing up like some action hero was a dumbass move, by the way,” he paused, staring me down until I felt thoroughly chewed out.

Only after I looked appropriately shamed for my actions did he continue, “Him knocking you on your ass gave you that nasty goose egg on the back of your head. He took out the rest of the Hydra men before getting you up here. I’m not sure what voodoo he did, but he got the bullet out of your shoulder and slowed the bleeding until the doctors I called could get here,” he finished, taking a deep breath.

“By the time we arrived, you were sound asleep and all patched up. Loki hadn’t left your side the whole time,” Nat added, her brow raised.

A yawn escaped from my mouth without warning and I nodded through it, pulling my hand away from her to at least cover my gaping maw. “Loki saved me?” I asked on the tail-end of the huge yawn.

“If it weren’t for Loki, you would be through the gates of Valhalla by now, Milady,” Thor whispered, his eyes grave as they met mine.

Tony let go of me and walked to my side, nudging Nat out of the way so he could rest the back of his hand on my forehead. “You feeling okay?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

The change of subject was not unwelcome. The pain meds seemed to spread like molasses throughout my brain, muddling my already scattered and confused thoughts. There were magical stones that some dude named Thanos wanted to use to destroy half of everything? And the Avengers had been going after them all of this time without my knowledge? How long had these missions been going on where I thought one thing was happening and it was something entirely different? And there was no way in Hell would Loki ever save my life. I was a thorn in his side that made his time stuck in this compound a thousand times worse. No one would’ve blamed him if he’d ‘forgotten’ in the heat of battle to push me into cover, letting Hydra riddle me with bullets.

“Uh, yeah, totally. I could go dancing I feel so great,” I muttered sarcastically, pulling myself out of my thoughts and into the room filled with my friends who watched me with concern.

“It’s on, Jen,” Nat said, winking at me from the edge of my bed.

“Let’s give her some space to rest up, guys,” Tony said, flipping his hand around on my forehead and rubbing it lightly with his thumb before stepping away.

Natasha and Thor both nodded to me with a smile before they left the room, the door whirring shut behind them. Tony gave me a final once-over and then left, calling out before the door closed, “The team left some flowers for you on the bedside table. Don’t kill anyone with them!”

After smiling at the expensive-looking glass vase of roses, I snuggled further into the soft sheets and fell into a deep, drug-induced sleep.

~~~

A cool hand on the side of my head woke me suddenly. My eyes tore open and my left hand shot out, grabbing the attacker before they could do me any harm.

“Loki,” I whispered, startled to see the Asgardian Prince at my bedside. What was he doing here?

“If you’d release my hand, I can resume checking your head wound,” he said flatly.

It was hard to grasp, the annoyed god at my bedside in casual black slacks and a white button-down shirt, waiting for me to let him go when he could easily remove himself from my grip. “Oh.” I sheepishly let go of him, my hand falling to rest at my side.

He maintained eye contact with me for a moment, his brow furrowed as he searched my eyes before looking back at the back of my head. His long fingers moved to my jaw, tugging it away from him so he could get a better look at the injury. I felt them move to probe it gently, pausing whenever I let out a hiss of pain.

“I need to change the bandage again.” His voice was firm but gentle. His tone alone threw me for a loop. It was so odd to hear him speaking cordially to me when I was used to him hissing like a snake or shouting up a storm.

As I busied himself behind me, I searched for the remote that typically accompanies a hospital bed. Finally finding it tucked beneath my leg, I used it to slowly move the automatic bed so I was sitting up. By the time I was finished Loki had come to the other side of the bed with a syringe filled with clear liquid. His piercing green eyes met mine once again as he hesitated only briefly before injecting it into my IV. Had he been waiting for me to stop him? The familiar weight of pain medication flooded my body, revealing what he had done moments before without my prompting.

He put down the syringe onto the table beside my flowers. Only now, instead of the single vase waiting for me, there was another. A single sunflower sat in a tall elegant black and gold vase. I looked back to Loki with a furrowed brow, watching him place bandages, gauze, and alcohol next to the new gift.

Finally, unable to hold back my confusion any longer, I blurted out, “Why are you helping me, Loki?”

“Because you are injured. I’ve taken over this aspect of your care since you arrived.” He said it so matter of factly it was almost an insult. As if there was no question that he wouldn’t be doing such a selfless act and he was offended that I would think he’d act differently.

“One of the others could handle this. Why are you helping me,” I pressed.

He sighed heavily and refused to reply, instead reaching out and placing his fingertips on either side of my face to tilt my head forwards off of the pillow. He moved out of my line of sight for a brief moment and I heard water running before he returned to lean over me, his chest inches from my face. This close, I was able to smell the strong spicy and masculine scent that I was quickly beginning to recognize as distinctly him. A warm, damp compress was pressed to the back of my head.

“Some blood soaked through the bandage into your hair. I need to cleanse it before I can remove the bandage.” He smoothed the damp cloth over my head again and again, the pain meds he had given me doing their job to take away the pain and leave only pressure in its wake.

The bloody rag was tossed unceremoniously into a hamper across the room, and then he grabbed the alcohol and gauze next. Some part of my mind screamed that I shouldn’t be letting him do this, that he was going to turn around any second and wrap those long fingers around my throat to finish me off, but a more rational part of me shut that down. If he was going to kill me, there would be no sense in saving my life in the first place.

And there wasn’t any hatred or malice in his gaze as I strained my eyes to look up to him without moving my head. To be completely honest, I couldn’t glean any emotion from his impassive face as he worked over me. Whatever he had to be feeling was currently locked away behind stony eyes and a firmly-set mouth.

“I’ve been watching you, Jennifer. As you train with the Witch and the Widow. Both will throw you to the ground repeatedly, besting you, and you stand right up and try again. You never give up. You clean up after the others when they forget without expecting gratitude or repayment. You set out the protein powder for the Widow and Captain each night. You explain the flavors of the food you’re eating to Vision. When they left you behind three days ago, instead of pouting like a child, you took to bettering yourself.” As he spoke he tended to the large gash on the back of my head, his soothing cool touch at odds with the confusion that littered his own words. As if I were some puzzle that he couldn’t piece together with just my odd actions as a guide.

How long had he been watching me to notice these things? And when had he noticed them? I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him in weeks. He may as well have disappeared off the planet for all that I had encountered him. And had he taken the time to notice these behaviors, or had they simply been a byproduct of his observant nature? Was I a puzzle to him that he must observe to find out, or did he watch everybody that carefully? And how the hell had I not noticed him noticing this?

“And, I need to make amends,” he added, voice so low that I almost didn’t hear it through my scattered thoughts.

His deft fingers left my skin and he placed the remnants of the medical supplies on the table. I took it as a sign that I could move my head and search his face more comfortably, trying to figure out where all of this was coming from. This was not the Loki that I knew. The Loki that I knew would be mocking me for my injuries, possibly prodding my wound to watch me squirm, if he was even here at all. Was this him trying to make things right, to 'make amends' as he had called it? Surely I, the puny mortal, wasn't worth the effort. His actions said otherwise.

He clenched his jaw, meeting my curious gaze with his own. “You knew that you were no match for those men, but you fought them anyway. Why?” Another piece of the puzzle that he couldn’t find a place for.

I swallowed thickly, flashes of the encounters playing through my mind. I killed those men. My heart sped up and tears burned in my eyes despite my clenching them shut. My lungs were unable to hold onto the air from my quick, shallow breaths as their deaths flashed through my mind. Sending an improvised spear through a man’s neck. Crushing a man to death with tree roots. Doing the same to two more with the decorative boulder. Hitting the one who shot me with a rock at the base of his skull. I hadn’t seen him die, but it had hit too hard for him to survive that.

I killed them. I killed them. I’m a murderer.

“Breathe, little one. Breathe, " Loki soothed, his voice velvet as it washed over me.

The bed pitched as he perched himself on it by my hip, and I heard his fingers snapping to get my attention. But it wasn’t loud enough, wasn’t enough to get me to open my eyes and stop the flood of images that refused to leave my mind’s eye.

“If you hadn’t have done what you were forced to do, you would be dead,” he assured me, his voice steady and sure as he tried to pull me out of my ever-increasing panic attack.

I would’ve died either way, so was killing them something I should’ve done? I lowered my chin to my chest, feeling lightheaded as I struggled to take in enough air. My whole body trembled and I pulled my knees to my chest beneath the blankets, wrapping my good arm around them to hold them to me. The onslaught of death paraded through my mind unbidden and unrelenting.

“Look at me,” he commanded. His cool hand cupped my chin, lifting my face so that he could see me more clearly. His thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping away the tears that I hadn't even realized had escaped. But it was as if I lost the ability to open my eyes, his attempts be damned. I couldn’t do it even though I so desperately wanted to.

His other hand reached out and settled onto my knee, and it was so startling that I ripped open my eyes and looked at him. Concern softened his features, at odds the harshness of his tone. “They forced your hand. You are not a murderer."

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so I chose silence as I focused on him. He was breathing more forcefully than normal, in through his nose and out through his mouth, and I copied him. We stayed that way for several moments, him showing me how to breathe through my panic and me following his lead. Slowly, the lightheadedness lessened enough so that I could focus. The terrible visions in my head were replaced with the piercing green eyes that held me captive.

Satisfied that I was calming down, he asked again, “Now, answer me this: Why did you fight those men when you knew you were going to lose?”

I looked away to his hand on my knee, the long fingers completely covering it even beneath the thickness of several blankets. It was easier to gather my thoughts without having to watch his reaction to them.

What had I been thinking?

“I… I knew I was the last line of defense. F.R.I.D.A.Y. said I was on my own. Was I supposed to just let them do whatever shitty thing they came to do? Guys busting through Tony’s forcefield in battle gear and assault rifles aren’t showing up to ask for a cup of sugar. If I hadn’t have done anything, they would have found me and killed me anyway. I was dead either way, but maybe I could stop enough of them that you could take the rest out if you came to help.” I ran my hand over my face, dislodging his grip from my chin in the process. “I-I didn’t mean to kill them, but I did mean to stop them. And then after that asshole shot me, I was one hundred percent dead anyway. I was bleeding out. So I might as well take as many out as I could before I go,” I shrugged, wincing at the discomfort the movement brought to my shoulder, even with the haze of medication.

“That reeks of the same self-sacrificing hero act that my brother and his troupe of morons put on. That was foolish and unnecessary,” he scolded.

I offered him nothing more than another shrug, but only of my uninjured shoulder, for his reprimand. It probably was, in his mind, but that didn't mean that I agreed.

“Did you not think I would come to your aid?” Loki asked, the smallest expression of hurt registering on his face as he brought attention to its cause.

“The last time we talked you held a knife to my throat, and then I did the same to you. Kinda. It was a tree branch, but it still counts. Why would you help me? If they had finished the job then you’d have a much easier life here. You wouldn’t have to avoid me and constantly worry about Thor breaking your face whenever I throw a fit. You could skulk around at night or on the roof without running into me. I’m just in your way.”

A muscle in Loki’s jaw ticked at my words, but he didn’t say anything he as considered them. The silence was almost more painful than the hole in my shoulder. I idly reached up to scratch at the bandage and his hand reached up and slapped it away.

He frowned at me. “I need to redress that as well. Leave it be.”

The silence stretched on as he organized the supplies he’d need in front of him and then tugged the hem of my large hospital gown down my arm to expose my shoulder and better access the bullet wound. His spindly fingers were quick and efficient in their work of removing the bandage, cleansing the wound, and then replacing the dressings with clean ones. His steady touch coming and going from my bare skin sent my heart skittering in my chest. I didn’t allow myself to wonder why it was invoking that reaction in me, but I did allow for the luxury of watching him unnoticed.

I'd never taken the time to actually see the man tending to my wounds. Taking the time to really inspect him, I was surprised to find that he was very easy to look at. His skin was unblemished and smooth, no hint of age showing on it except for the wrinkles that appeared as he furrowed his brow or squinted his eyes to get a better look at his task. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, and I trailed my eyes downward to the small amount of pale chest that his unbuttoned collar revealed, not a single hair to be seen. His shirt didn't hide the lean muscles that rippled beneath his skin as he worked, and some strange part of me wondered what they would feel like if I reached out and closed the distance between us. For lack of a better, more eloquent word, he was beautiful. As if sculpted by the very gods that he proclaimed himself to be. His beauty was more delicate compared to the rugged masculinity of the men of the Avengers that I was used to associating with, but that didn't make it any less lovely to behold. Just different.

I pulled my wandering eyes back up to his, a blush betraying me and heating up my skin when I found that he had been watching me look at him. The intensity of his gaze knocked me back to my senses, and I quickly looked down at my hands as they twisted around themselves. He didn't say anything, however, keeping up the silence until he was finished and throwing away the soiled bandages in the trash across the room. With his overwhelming presence gone and his large hands off my skin, I felt the tension I had unknowingly been holding in my clenched muscles ease away and my mind clear a little more. Loki paused in front of the door with his back to me, one hand resting on the windowsill beside the door.

“One thing I’ve only recently learned from my brother is to never leave a warrior behind. Especially not one of such caliber.” He took a deep breath, his shoulders heaving with the movement. “And I’m not willing to lose anyone else.”

And then he was gone, leaving behind my favorite blood-stained rock on the windowsill.

[brynandchristopher]

The (temporary) end of an era

Well, it’s certainly been a while since we last wrote. We apologize for the delay, we’ve been busy transitioning from New Zealand life to Australia in the last month or so, and then from Australia back to our homes in the last few days, and just haven’t gotten around to writing. But now we’re back! First and foremost, Chris and I are safe, happy, and healthy. It is a crazy time that we are living in right now, but so far we have remained physically unaffected by coronavirus and are keeping our fingers crossed that it remains that way. We are in good health and taking all of the necessary precautions to stay safe in this time of chaos and uncertainty.

In our last post, we had just bid Madeline farewell and were beginning the process of selling our van, Sweetie, in Christchurch. We gave ourselves ~2 weeks before departing to sell the van in hopes that would give us enough time to meet with prospective buyers and try to make some of our money back before taking off for Australia. In New Zealand, there is a bit of a boom and bust cycle in regards to van prices due to the major influx of backpackers at the beginning of the summer and mass exodus at the end of summer. Additionally, most backpackers take a similar route to the one we took - flying into Auckland, exploring the north island, heading down south, flying out of Christchurch - resulting in a huge supply of backpacker vans in Christchurch and not very much demand. We were aware of this cycle going into our trip and knew we wouldn’t get a full return on what we spent, but we were hopeful we could get at least half of our money back to put towards our next van in Australia. Our first few van showings were slightly disheartening. We received significant interest via buy/sell facebook pages and other websites where we posted ads, but when we met in person for test drives and viewings everyone seemed very nit-picky about small things that hadn’t mattered much to us. We soon realized that backpackers looking at vans at the end of the summer could afford to be selective because of how many vans were available to them at a low cost. We didn’t let them get us down though, and after 4 or 5 days of showings we met an Israeli couple around our age that was interested in buying Sweetie. Chris negotiated with them (definitely not my forté, Chris is the master haggler between the two of us) and we were able to get a little more than half of what we had spent. We spent a day driving around with them for a test drive, mechanical inspection, and eventually a transfer of ownership, and by that evening it was time for us to part with our beloved Sweetie. She was a real trooper and everything we could have asked for for our very first car, we felt lucky to have had no car problems for the whole 3 months (which cannot be said for many secondhand backpacker campervans). We were sad to see her go but happy to be leaving her in good hands for her next adventure :)

It was a relief to sell the van in the first few days of our arrival to Christchurch, but we soon realized we had a lot of time on our hands for the next 10 days without a vehicle to go anywhere beyond the city. We stayed in a hostel in central Christchurch for 3 nights and spent a few days exploring the sights of the city. We walked through the botanical gardens, visited the local museum, explored the shops, and hung out around the hostel. One day we went to a climbing gym and spent a few hours bouldering, a hobby that both Chris and I had missed since our travels began. Once our time in the hostel was up, Chris’ dad, John, helped us out with some points so we could stay at the Double Tree Inn for 2 nights. After living in a minivan for 3 months and then staying in a crowded hostel for a few nights, the Double Tree felt luxurious and plush. We were very grateful to be staying in a nice place for a few days and have a bit of a break from the backpacker lifestyle - thanks Wan :) 

For the remainder of our time in Christchurch, we booked a cheap AirBnb on the outskirts of the city. We were beginning to get a bit restless - while Christchurch is nice enough, New Zealand isn’t exactly famous for it’s beautiful cities and we felt like we had explored most of what it had to offer. I spent most of our days there starting to look online for vans and jobs in Australia, and Chris played a lot of Pokémon ;) I had applied to a few live-in nanny jobs in Queensland, where we were hoping to post up for a few months to save up some money, and I heard back from the one Chris and I were most excited about. The family of 5 lived on 7 acres in a sleepy beach town called Kinka Beach about 7 hours north of Brisbane, and it seemed like we would be a good fit for what they were looking for. After a few emails back and forth, the mother, Olivia, and I spoke on the phone for a while to sort out the details and get to know each other a bit. Originally Olivia and her husband, Darren, weren’t looking to have a couple, but when we told them of Chris’ handyman/DIY construction experience, they figured they could use his help on some projects around their property in addition to my help with their 3 kids. We agreed on an arrival date in early April and planned to stay in touch until then. Before we knew it, our last night in New Zealand was upon us and we decided to celebrate by going out to dinner at a Chinese vegetarian restaurant a few blocks away from our AirBnb. We ordered a few different dishes, which were fantastic, and recounted all of the unforgettable memories we made in the beautiful country of New Zealand. It was a sad goodbye but we were looking forward to our next adventure in Australia. 

At this point, the Coronavirus panic was beginning to ramp up. We were only experiencing it secondhand, as it hadn’t become a problem at all in New Zealand yet, so it didn't really feel real until we got to the airport. There were increased screening and security measures when we arrived to Australia, questions about where we’d travelled recently and separate lines for people who had been to China, Italy, Iran, or Dubai. This, of course, was only the tip of the iceberg and our nervousness about the situation began to increase. My parents were supposed to be visiting about a week after we arrived to Sydney and we weren’t sure what would happen in that time. Fortunately, we had a safe and isolated place to stay in Sydney for the week - my Dad’s childhood friend, Rob, lives in a beautiful downtown apartment in the heart of Sydney and was gracious enough to host us. For the first few days we got to know Rob over dinners and wine and he gave us advice for places to check out around the city. We walked through the beautiful botanic gardens, along the harbor to see the Sydney Opera House, and spent a day soaking up the sun at Bondi Beach. We were primarily in Sydney to start our hunt for a new van, so we met up with a few different sellers that we’d been in contact with to test drive and scope out our options. Because we would be living in this van for a longer period of time, we were hoping to upgrade on a few things that Sweetie didn’t have - a bit more space in the back, a high roof, and an indoor kitchen. We liked 1 or 2 of the ones we viewed in the first few days, but nothing was really checking all of the boxes that we were hoping for. 

Three or four days into our time in Sydney, it became very apparent how seriously the world was reacting to Coronavirus. Everyone was being sent home from work, businesses were closing, and fewer and fewer people were out on the street each day. Before we knew it, travel restrictions and bans were being put in place by many countries, Australia being one of them. With very heavy hearts, my parents had to cancel their trip to come and visit us for 2+ weeks. We were all pretty heartbroken about the situation, all of us had been looking forward to the trip for months. I was craving a taste of comfort and home that I knew would come from spending time with my parents, and I knew how excited they were to take a much deserved break from work and go on a big adventure across the world. I soon found out that my sister, Maggie, was also going to surprise me and come along with them (I had suspicions all along (; ), which only made it harder. It was a major disappointment on both ends, but it was out of our hands. 

Feeling a bit deflated and sad, we continued our search for the right van. When we came across a van that was everything we were looking for but a little bit out of our price range, we figured we might as well take a look at it and see if we could negotiate our way down. We met with the owner of the van, a Spanish guy named Edgar, who was trying to get out of the country as soon as possible because his visa was about to expire. The van was perfect, we fell in love with it immediately. It had a solar panel on top that powered a refrigerator, water pump for running water, power outlets, and cabin lights, had a whole indoor kitchen set up, and had a semi-high roof. It was in great mechanical condition and had very low kilometers compared to the majority of the vans we had looked at. We spent a day or two going back and forth with Edgar about the price and eventually we came to an agreement- we were now the proud owners of a 1999 fully outfitted Toyota Hiace Campervan! We named him Rollo, a viking name that we felt was well-suited for our van.

A day or two later, Chris and I went through a few hours of panic about coronavirus and whether or not we needed to make the difficult decision to end our trip and go home. It was poor timing to go through this decision making process, as we had just invested the majority of our money into a new home on wheels, but it was an option we knew we had to seriously consider before carrying on with our travel plans. We went through many different hypothetical scenarios, weighed all of the pros and cons, talked it out with friends and family, and eventually came to the decision that we would wait it out in Australia for now. The situation worldwide was changing every day and the uncertainty was scary - our first instinct is to be around our family in a time like this - but we knew we had a safe place to hunker down for a few months with our nannying family in Kinka Beach. With new border closures and travel restrictions being put into place, we decided we would leave Sydney and head straight for Kinka Beach without making many stops in between. Before we left, Rob recommended a hike close by in Royal National Park to the beautiful Figure Eight Pools. These series of pools were formed along a rock shelf of the coastline from centuries of pounding waves and receding tides. When the tide is low enough, you can walk out on the shelf and take a dip in the crystal clear waters of the Figure Eight Pools - take a look at our pictures and you’ll understand the name. We had never seen anything like them before, it was a really cool adventure. After swimming in the pools we spent a few hours on the beach before making our way back to Sydney.  We had our last dinner with Rob and he was nice enough to send us off with a basket full of van-life essentials - we were beyond grateful for his hospitality and generosity over the course of the week and hoped to visit if we’re back in Sydney again :)

Chris and I hit the road and began our 3-day drive up the east coast of Australia. On our first day, we stopped in to visit with my great-Aunt, Nancy, who lives in Newcastle a few hours north of Sydney. I had never met Nancy, only heard about her secondhand from my Grandad and the rest of my Dad’s family, so I was very excited to finally get to meet her. Chris and I spent an hour or so with Nancy, chatting over tea and walking through her magnificent backyard garden. It was wonderful to meet her and exchange stories of our travels, I hope to stay in touch in the future. After saying our goodbyes, we continued our drive north. We felt a bit melancholy as we passed exit after exit for all of the places we were supposed to be staying at with my parents, but we were doing our best to stay positive. We knew how lucky we were to have found a beautiful new van and to have a safe place to go to in a time of crisis. We stayed overnight in free rest-stop campsites along the way and made it to Kinka Beach after 3 long days in the van. 

Olivia and Darren, the parents, greeted us and we spent an hour or so getting to know each other and taking a look around their property. They own a coral selling business where they harvest small amounts of coral from the Great Barrier Reef and then propagate it in tanks on land to sell to aquarium owners, pet stores, etc. Their property had an old aquarium on it that they were going to convert into a coral-growing space because it already had the tanks and requirements needed for their business. The aquarium was accompanied by a giant concrete whale that you could go inside - it was as big as a house and definitely a trademark of the Kinka Beach area. It was a funky property but we liked it, and we got along well with Olivia and Darren. Because we had been in Sydney and traveling around, they asked us to keep our distance and self-isolate in our van on their property for the first week that we were there, which we of course were fine with. We spent the week going to the beach, stocking up on food essentials, and relaxing in the van. As much as we tried to keep our distance, the older two of the children were very curious about the two new van-dwellers on their property. They would sneak away from their parents to come and say hello, and took a liking to us right away. Our new names were ‘Nanny Chris’ and ‘Nanny Bryn’, it was very cute :) The week of isolation passed and Chris and I moved in to the family’s house. The family also had a separate unit on their property on the second floor of the aquarium that Chris and I were planning on moving into but it had some damage from a cyclone a few years back. Fixing up the separate unit was going to be Chris’ project for the few months that we were there, and he dove right in once we got settled. For the first few days I was with Olivia and the three kids - Henderson or ‘Hendo’ (4), Israel (2), and Kingsley (12 weeks) - playing in their blow up pool, jumping on the trampoline, reading books, and watching movies. The kids were adorable and (mostly) well-behaved, and Olivia and I got along great. I spent my birthday with the kids, and Chris and I snuck away during their nap to have a pizza beach picnic where he gave me a guitar!! I had expressed the desire to start learning throughout our travels and he remembered, it was a very sweet and thoughtful gift <3 The family surprised me with birthday cake and songs later that night and made my birthday feel special, even if it was under somewhat different circumstances than usual. 

A day or two into the job, the same anxieties that Chris and I were having in Sydney began to creep back up on us. Coronavirus continued to ramp up, and our fears of being far from home grew with it. We worried about being stuck in Australia if they cancelled all outgoing flights and not being able to return to the US if family or friends got sick, or what would happen if we needed to be hospitalized abroad. Mostly we just felt scared, anxious, and homesick being in an unfamiliar place during a time of such panic and crisis, and it was seriously impacting our ability to enjoy our time there. The family had also asked that Chris didn’t get a job in the community, as they had young children and a baby, and wanted to limit potential exposure to the virus. This would mean we wouldn’t be making very much money, and we knew we needed to resupply our funds if we wanted to continue to travel. At the same time, we were scared by the prospect of traveling if we did decide to go home, which would mean exposing ourselves to airplanes and airports. It was risky and we didn’t want to bring the sickness home to anyone or put others at risk. After a few wrenching days of going back and forth about it and talking it through with Olivia and Darren, Chris and I made the difficult decision to sell the van and go home. It was a heartbreaking goodbye - the kids had begun to get attached to us, and us to them - but after lots of hugs we bid farewell and headed south towards Brisbane to sell Rollo. We stayed at a campground and arranged a few meetings with interested buyers, and after a day we made a quick sale to a Dutch backpacker couple. The next morning we were on a flight to Sydney, where we spent the night, and then carried on to San Francisco the following day. After the 13+ hour flight to California, Chris and I parted ways - I flew home to Boston and Chris to Salt Lake City. It feels strange and sad to be apart after spending literally every hour of the day together for 5+ months straight, but fortunately (and unfortunately, I suppose) we have quite a bit of experience with long-distance. We know it’s not forever and we are staying positive and looking forward to spending time with our families after being away for so long. Both of us are currently self-quarantining in our homes - I’m up in the creative room in my house for the next two weeks and Chris is confined to the basement at his house. We’re both feeling very lucky that our houses are set up in a way that allows us to be physically separate from our families while still being able to visit from across the yard or between rooms. We know not everyone being affected by coronavirus is afforded that same luxury, so we are counting our blessings and keeping ourselves busy for the next 14 days. 

Unfortunately this will likely be our last blog post for a while. But don’t worry!! Our travels will continue once we’ve saved up a little more money, and we will be sure to post here when that time comes :) We are relieved and happy to be home and are looking forward to better and brighter days. Thank you to all of our friends and family who have kept up with our travels in the past 5 months, it has been filled with more joy, wonder, and adventure than we could have ever imagined. We feel so lucky to have people in our lives that we can share those experiences with, so thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Stay home, stay safe, and stay healthy!! 

With love,

Bryn and Christopher

[save-me-for-a-sunny-day-blog]

The Weak Link

Loki x insecure!Reader

Warnings: self hate, swearing

Word Count: 1772

Author’s Note: This one is heavily inspired by my own insecurities, so fun haha! I needed some Loki therapy so I wrote this! If anyone else feels insecure, I hope this oneshot helps a little!

……………………………………………….

*Reader’s POV*

Sigh, another sleepless night it seems. I glance at my electric clock on my nightstand and notice that the time says, “3:12 p.m.” Great, I’ve been wasting away in bed for hours and have gotten no sleep. I should’ve been doing something productive…

I get up from my bed and decide to do some training, as I severely need it. I gaze into my mirror and note each cut and bruise scattered all across my body. I scowl in disgust, ashamed of how much damage I let myself take. Rushing over to my dresser, I throw on some workout clothes and tie up my sneakers. I walk back in front of the mirror, nearly bursting into tears from how much I despised what I saw looking back at me, but I stopped myself by exiting my room.

I tiptoe down my hallway to the elevator and press the gym floor’s number. The ride should’ve lasted only a minute, but halfway the elevator was stopped. The doors open and outside Loki stands with his hands behind his back and a mischievous smile on his face.

“Y/n,” He states simply and walks into the elevator. He settles himself much closer than I feel comfortable with. I shift awkwardly, stepping away from him closer to the wall. I hear him chuckle quietly to himself, and he inches his way closer to me until our arms touch ever so slightly. I bite my lip and try to ignore him. Pressing the close door button rapidly, I get the elevator moving once again. I assume Loki is planning on following me because he never pressed a floor’s button. God, that man lives to make my life miserable. It’s hard enough dealing with attractive people when you’re as awkward as me, but it makes it even worse when the person is the literal god of mischief. He knows his effect on me, and he eats it up. He teases me at every chance he gets. He flirts with me, only to then insult me. I assumed he just hated me because I’m the weakest of the avengers. He constantly makes it known that he despises pathetic mortals, so why wouldn’t I be the perfect outlet for his hate?

The elevator finally comes to a stop and as soon as the doors fly open, I rush out. I speedily walk down the hallway heading toward the gym, but Loki catches up to me with ease. I peek over to him, regretting it instantly. He’s staring at me with that stupid smirk on his face. I snap my head forward and continue to walk as fast as I can. Once inside the gym, I head over to the punching bags. I’m extremely cranky from the lack of sleep, and I need to get some aggression out.

“Want to spar with me, dear?” Loki asks, magically changing his formal clothes into black sweatpants and t-shirt.

“No thanks,” I spit out bluntly, causing a hiss from Loki.

“Ooh, someone’s in a foul mood tonight,” He coos. I pay no mind to him as I put on my gloves and ready myself to begin the workout. I begin punching, throwing the occasional kick in for good measures. I imagine the bag being Loki, much preferring this unfair fight, as I’d lose horribly against Loki in a real fight. 

“Good form, I can tell you’ve been practicing,” He walks up close to me as I continue to wail against the punching bag. This pisses me off even more. He’s patronizing me. My brows furrow painfully, and I use even more force against the punching bag. Loki notices and continues.

“Dear, you’re going to murder this poor, innocent punching bag, aren’t you?” I grunt in anger and kick the punching bag so hard it nearly hits Loki.

“Woah, so eager, little one,” Loki chuckles darkly. That’s it, I’ve had enough. I send one last punch into the punching bag and I break it off its chains and send it flying across the room. I don’t know what I was trying to prove to Loki, but it made me feel a little better. Maybe I’m just desperate to prove that I’m not as weak as everyone thinks I am. I don’t give Loki time to say anything, as I just run out of the gym. I hear him yell after me, but as soon as I make it to the elevator, I hurriedly press the close door button. I hit my floor’s number and sigh relieved as the doors close on Loki. Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll just leave me alone for tonight. In a minute, I make it to my floor and I head back down my hallway. Just as I get close to my door, I see Loki already standing at my doorway.

“Ah, fuck me!” I grunt to myself. I turn around to escape him, but then he’s right in front of me, smirking yet again.

“Oh, I’d love to, dear,” Loki says a matter of factly.

“Yeah right,” I scoff and rush past him. At first, he doesn’t follow me. Then he practically runs to catch up with me.

“You’re horrendously right, dear. I would never even dream of making sweet love to you.” Loki says with a dead serious face. Not that I’d expect anything different, but his words cut me deeply. I don’t let it show, though. I simply stare straight ahead as I rush down the hallway still. 

“I mean, why would I? You’re obviously not worthy of my love.” He says, crossing his arms. I keep staring straight ahead and try my hardest to not let tears drip down my face. It was as if he knew exactly how to rip my heart into pieces.

“Only someone as strong and beautiful as me will be worthy of my love,” He states, now staring at me.

“I get it,” I whisper coldly. How could someone be so cruel? To beat down the already broken…

“Wait,” Loki says grabbing my arm, making me come to a halt.

“What, Loki? What more do you have to say to me? I get it! I’m never going to be as beautiful or as strong as you! I’m not worthy of your love, nor anyone else’s! Just leave me alone and let me live my miserable life in peace!” I scream at him, desperately trying to pull my arm free from his grasp, but as the god already made clear, he’s far stronger than me.

“Y/n, please wait… I didn't mean any of what I said. I’m being sarcastic…” Loki says, and I stop my thrashing.

“You… what?” I ask furiously.

“Did you actually believe what I said? Do you actually think thoughts like that?” Loki’s brows furrow and his icy blue eyes have a hint of hurt in them. I wipe the tears from my eyes and bite my trembling lip before speaking again.

“I’m not an idiot! I know what you and the others think of me! You all think I’m the weakest! I’m not as strong as you and your brother, I’m not smooth and beautiful like Natasha, I can’t use weapons as precisely as the rest… I’m practically useless! I don’t understand why you all have me on your team anyways!” I yell, closing my eyes in anger.

“Dear, none of that is true…” Loki tries to console me, but I cut him off.

“Oh, bullshit! I see the way you and the rest look at me, after every fight when I’m more beat up than the rest of you! You all look at me with pity in your eyes! Well, I don’t need pity! I’d kill myself for the rest of you and none of you would even bat an eyelash if that were to happen!” I open my eyes and stare straight into Loki’s now anxious eyes.

“That’s… wrong. We all would be devastated if anything happened to you. Y/n, no one looks at you with pity, and no one thinks you’re the weakest. Dear, if anything, you’re one of our strongest. You put yourself ahead of us, protecting us from all the danger. That’s why you get the most beat up, and we all know it’s not because you’re weak. Y/n, you are one of the strongest, most beautiful people I’ve ever met. Why do you think I flirt with you day and night?” Loki asks out of breath.

“I know you’re just doing it to manipulate me… You do it as one of your petty tricks. As I said, I’m no fool, Loki.” I spat.

“Y/n… honestly, do you even hear the crap that you’re spewing? I flirt with you because I like you because I want to be with you! I mean, I’d be so lucky to have you, after everything I’ve done! I thought you reject me because you think yourself better than me, which I completely understand! But this? Thinking yourself not worthy of even my love? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” I stare at Loki, heart beating painfully fast. Lies… he must be telling more lies…

“Dear, please believe me,” He reaches out and cups my face in his chilled hands. I close my eyes, not knowing what to say. Just as I’m about to move away, I feel Loki press his lips against mine gently. My eyes snap open, and I see Loki’s eyes closed, and brows furrowed worriedly. I close my eyes once more and kiss back. As suddenly as the kiss began, it ended. I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, as I’m as embarrassed as ever.

“Y/n, look at me.” Loki demands softly. I do as he asks and opens my eyes, finding him staring deeply.

“Do you believe me now?” His long fingers caress my teared cheeks. I sniffle quietly and nod, causing a smile to grow on Loki’s face.

“Good. Now, come here.” Loki opens his arms invitingly, and I immediately rush into his arms. We embrace passionately, as if a barrier that prevented us from touching had been broken.

“I’m sorry… for being so insecure. I just find it hard to believe that anyone would even like me,” I explain. Loki sighs deeply.

“We’ll work on that, dear. I’ll help build up your confidence.” He buries his face into my hair and kisses the top of my head.

“Thanks,” I smile, holding onto him a little tighter.

……………………………………………….

I hope you liked this oneshot! If you have a story you’d like to request, feel free to message me or send me an ask!

[northshorehealthandfitness]

Friday Faves

Hi friends! Happy Fri-YAY. What’s going on this weekend? I’d love to hear what you have going on.

We have nothing planned and I’m pretty excited about it. I’m looking forward to breakfast at Birdie’s (always), getting some chores accomplished around the house and catching a yoga class. Above all, I’m just hoping P decides to sleep a little bit. Is there a two year sleep regression? If not, there is for this child. Fingers crossed it passes soon. I think it’s hilarious that I’m like, “I’m going to start waking up early!” and P is like, “Hold my juice box.” 

In standard Friday style, here are some faves from the week and around the web! It’s so much fun to put this list together each week, and sharing some of the things I’ve been enjoying. Please shout out your faves in the comments section if you’d like to play along!

Life:

  A picnic with my best girls. I picked Liv up from school and had a little lunchbag full of snacks and drinks, so we headed to the park for an hour or so to eat and play. The weather was so dreamy -it was in the low 70s- and the perfect afternoon to get a little fresh air. 

(Huge trays of roasted veggies in the fridge.)

Astros win! I’m not the biggest baseball fan -college basketball is my thing- but I was cheering so hard for the Astros during the World Series games. My cousin is one of their pitching coaches, so it was beyond amazing to see him on TV in the bullpen. I didn’t get to see the final moments because it was so late on the east coast, but was so excited to see that they won. 

Fitness:

Reunited with the POSH Podcast. The POSH Podcast used to be one of my resources for class playlists, and also when I needed some upbeat, driving music to power my personal workouts. After taking a bit of a hiatus from the gym for that whole surgery thing, I had forgotten about it. I was following a PBB Advanced workout in the garage when I remembered the POSH Podcast and was PUMPED to hit play. (We’ve been using this Bluetooth Speaker, which we originally picked up for the party, and it.is.awesome.) It gave me a surge of energy and I’ve listened to it a few times since then. It almost makes you feel like you’re in a club, which is a nice surprise after dealing with naptime battles haha.

This legs and booty workout looks killer.

5 tips for barre newbies.

Good reads:

The Hypnotist’s Love Story. Liane Moriarty is one of my all-time favorite authors, so I was surprised to see that I hadn’t read this one yet. Her writing is such a joy -it’s compelling, witty and always includes a bit of mystery- and I’ve coasted right through this page-turner. Hopefully I’ll finish it tonight!

Four inspiring women shaking up the culinary world. 

An easy tip on remaining present.

  Fashion + beauty:

Beautycounter holiday sets are heeeeeere. There’s such a gorgeous selection; I’m having a hard time choosing. I’ll likely be ordering this one and this one to start. I’ll definitely be ordering some as holiday gifts, too. 

  The most perfect brown booties.

Having way too much fun scouring dresses for holiday parties. 

Food and recipes:

Siete chips. I think I may have written about these before, but they needed another shout out. The lime flavor “gives me life” as the kids say. 

  Whole Foods has them, but I’ll usually order from Thrive Market. 

I need this trifle in my life.

One of our standard fall make-ahead breakfasts has a new video! The full recipe is here. You just heat it up and add a little almond milk in the morning. It tastes like dessert and is gluten-free + vegan. 

  What’s something you’re loving this week?

Happy Friday!

xo

Gina

The post Friday Faves appeared first on The Fitnessista.

from North Shore Outlet - Health and Fitness http://ift.tt/2ipEmof via IFTTT

[sierrastownies]

mr grumpy gills

Who? Brooke Kramer & Gabriel Young

When? January 25th, 2017

Where? Pike Central High

Brooke hadn't had a day off to herself at least in over a couple weeks, sometime before Christmas she would assume. She, naturally a early riser, got up that morning and found that baking made the time fly by, packaging up the assorted cookies into older gift bags to reuse and head out to the high school. She was welcomed warmly, having been friends with the secretaries for years. Her first stop would've been Seth's classroom but she was almost certain she missed his free period and had zero clue to where it could have been, so instead of roaming the halls, Brooke spotted a vacant room with a familiar face sitting at the front of it. "Knock knock," she whispered as she approached the doorway, not wanting to be too loud in the hallways to echo. "Got a sweet tooth?"

Gabe had been in a mood since Seth finally showed him who he had been on dates with. He didn't know why, really. He liked Brooke and all, she was nice and pretty but he didn't really know why he was so mad at Seth. It wasn't like Seth even knew that he knew Brooke too and it wasn't like he was actively trying to date or sleep with her. But it still bothered him. Which was the reason as to why he was in his classroom during his free period and not pestering Seth like he usually was. And it probably wasn't such a bad thing since he was getting a jump start on grading classwork from his previous classes. He looked up from the paper he was currently thinking about ripping up as soon as he heard the voice, actually a little shocked to see Brooke standing in his classroom doorway. "What are you doing here?" He asked quickly, completely disregarding her question.

Brooke knitted her eyebrows together and almost gave him a look as if he was obvious for her being here but refrained. "Haven't you heard? I'm going back to high school. Heard your the best history teacher around here." She joked with a brighter smile before she turned her slender body to hold the gift bag up. "I'm making deliveries."

Gabe "Ha, yea...tell that to my student's grades," he commented, setting his pen down for a moment to turn more toward her in his swivel chair. "Ah, got it. Well, if you're looking for Seth, you're way off. He's closer to the gym," he said, turning back around. "Also, he's got a class right now and he hates when people interrupts it so good luck."

Brooke "I'm sure that doesn't just reflect on you. They've got to be improving, right?" She asked with her head tilted and she stepped inside. "Oh, yeah. See. I haven't been here in years." She chuckled with a shake of her head before turning back toward him. "Do you know from experience?"

Gabe shrugged his shoulders lightly. He wasn't sure. He did try, really. And some kids seemed to get it. But others didn't even seem to try to get it. He glanced back over to her as she stepped inside, not expecting that. He assumed she'd be right off to go see Seth. "Mm, nope. I'm a serious professional here," he lied, being obvious about it. "I would never interrupt a student's learning experience no matter how boring the subject is. Which, Seth's course material...very, very boring."

Brooke "I'm sure you'll get through to them at some point," She said after the lackluster response, pulling the straps of the gift bag up to the crook of her elbow. "I can see that. Clearly you've gotten much work done." Laughing, Brooke came even closer to wave the bag in front of him. "AP English is not boring. I loved it!"

Gabe kept his eyes on her as she moved closer, waving the bag out in front of him. "Oh, am I on this delivery route too?" He questioned before reaching forward to take the bag from her. He crinkled his nose up as she defended Seth's subject. "Ugh, nerd. History is a million times better. Hell, Science is better too and I hate the Science department at this school."

Brooke "Yes, if you want. I've made more than I can eat and the hospital already got a ton." She chuckled under her breath as he took the sack before crossing her arms over her chest, leaning over to look at some of the newspapers on the desk. "Oh don't get me wrong. I loved it all. I was in AP for every close. History was a better subject of mine. Art and music theory was the worst."

Gabe "Oh? So I just get the leftovers?" He teased, pretending to be somewhat offended. He opened up the bag to look at what exactly she had made and brought to him. "Really not helping the nerd thing," he mumbled, setting the bag down onto his desk. "I disagree. Anything relating to the arts is very important. Children need a creative outlet and those classes provide them with one. However, I'll let that comment slide since art classes do tend to stifle students at times, forcing them to focus only on one subject and even grading them on their talent."

Brooke "I wouldn't say that... but... yeah, you can." Brooke joked as her fingers moved through the ends of her hair and curled around her fingers then. "I never denied being a nerd. I'm actually proud of it, I loved school." It wasn't a lie, either. She was the type who stayed after and got bummed out over a B+. "Oh no no, I don't disagree with you. It's very important. I was just... terrible. I couldn't draw for the life of me. I'd much rather break down polynomials and watch documentaries," She replied, pulling out a package of the peanut butter chip and whites chocolate cookies for him. "Rather than still life flowers."

Gabe let out a small laugh at her answer, watching her a moment before nodding toward a chair she could pull up to his desk. "You can sit if you want," he told her, figuring she might continue hanging out a bit longer since she didn't seem to be in a rush to leave. "Wow, you sound wild," he said in a flat tone, clearly making fun of her. He eyed the package of cookies she pulled out, reaching forward to take them. "Are these your specialty?"

Brooke turned her body and grasped onto the nearest chair to pull up, smoothing the back of her skinny jeans to take the seat. "Ha ha, very funny. You teach it for a living." Poking her tongue out at him, she crossed her legs and shrugged. "My specialty is poking people with needles and drawing blood, so no. But it's close enough."

Gabe "Doesn't mean I ever want to break down polynomials, nerd," he laughed. He playfully rolled his eyes at her response before opening the packaging up and grabbing one of the cookies. "You know, some of my students might get a little jealous knowing another woman brought me baked goods," he joked before taking a bite of the cookie.

Brooke "They're good brain exercises and I'll gladly take that title," Brooke replied with a soft laugh ringing from her throat, leaning back in her seat. "Would they really? Do you get baked goods delivered to you daily?"

Gabe couldn't deny that her cookie was damn good. He took another bite almost as soon as he finished the first, nodding his head lightly before swallowing the cookie. "I mean, not daily or even baked goods. But you know, you've got some students that...I don't know what they're trying to do, you know? Like, are they actually trying something or just playing some long joke. But they come in with snacks and stuff and leave it on my desk."

Brooke watched him, almost nervously, as he took the first bite. She baked literally whenever she had time off but she was always worried someone would just spit it right out. "Well as long as you don't encourage any advances, I don't see the harm in having some snacks here and there."

Gabe "Don't worry, not happening with any of the students here," he assured her, taking the last bite of the cookie, leaning back slightly in his seat. "That was a damn good cookie," he breathed out as he swallowed the bite. "Ruining the New Year diet already, Nurse Brooke."

Brooke "Well good, can't have you landing yourself with some jail time." Brooke joked with her lips turning into a crooked smile instead. "Oh, please. A little sugar is good for the soul." Waving her hand at him, Brooke continued. "The peanut butter ones are my favorite."

Gabe "Yea, no. Not into teenagers," he laughed. "Yea? You learn that in nursing school?" He teased, smirking over at her. "There's peanut butter in here?" He quickly asked, grabbing the bag to look inside. "You went a little nuts with baking, didn't you?"

Brooke "That's a relief." Brooke laughed along with him with her nose scrunched. "Nope, just from my mama. Only truthful though. How could you ever be sour with sugar in your system?" She asked, not even looking do an answer. "I mean... yeah, okay, I did. I just get a little bored on my days off so this is just a result."

Gabe couldn't help but to smile a little as her question, shaking his head lightly. "Yea, I guess you've got a point there," he answered, sighing lightly as he closed the packaging up for the cookies and setting them into the bag, grabbing the peanut butter cookies out. "Well, I'm not going to complain if this means I get baked goods."

Brooke caught the smile and perked up a little. She didn't know him insanely well, but he seemed much more standoffish with her than normal once she even entered the room. She was glad she at least got a smile out of him. Her lips was now a grin at that point. "Of course you aren't. It's something different than your ordinary apple." She chuckled. "Just watch out, I can't have you coming into the ER with a sugar overdose."

Gabe "Hey, an apple a day, keeps the doctor a way," he said, opening his drawer up to pull out the apple he brought in for breakfast but never found the time to eat since his morning classes decided to be extra rowdy that morning. "Doesn't seem to have the same effect on nurses," he joked, putting it back down, winking at her. "I don't know, I feel like you might actually like having another excuse to see me."

Brooke glanced down at the apple in his hand, a little amused with the fact he actually had one. "I think that only works if you actually eat said apple," She murmured in a teasing tone, keeping the conversation as light as possible. At his joke, she nudged at his shoulder very gently before speaking. "I don't think you being admitted in the ER is a good circumstance for me to see you. In fact, it's terrible!"

Gabe shrugged his shoulders up a little at her comment. "I'll get around to it," he said, an amused look on his face. "Maybe after I finish these cookies," he added. "I never said it was a good thing. Just that you wouldn't mind an excuse to see me," he pointed out. "Won't have to have an excuse to come hang out in an empty classroom with me."

Brooke "Probably a good idea. Wash the sugar away with some more natural sugar." She joked with her nose a little scrunched, adjusting herself in the seat so that her legs were recrossed and she was more comfortable. "Well, of course I wouldn't mind seeing you. You're good company."

Gabe "But it's natural so it's ok," he insisted, giving her a serious look. Gabe was only joking when he was talking about her wanting to see him. He liked hearing it but then he remembered she was probably more here to see Seth than him. "Mm, too bad we're both busy then," he said, looking back down at the papers on his desk, turning the sheet over to begin looking at the answers on the back.

Brooke "Only slightly better," She prodded again with her face only amused to his much serious one, straightening up her posture a bit. He might have been joking, but Brooke had always been a natural with welcoming new friends and gaining even more. She enjoyed spending time with people, and Gabe was no exception. "Is that a hint that I'm hindering you?"

Gabe shook his head lightly at her question, keeping his eyes down. He picked up his pen and began to mark the paper. "Nope," he answered, flipping the paper back over to add up the points and determine the student's grade. "You work, I work and I'm sure when you're off, you plan on spending that time with your new boyfriend."

Brooke creased her brows together in a v-formation as he spoke and turned back to his grading, which wasn't what the issue was. She understood he had work but the mood obviously shifted. "Are you talking about Seth?" She murmured after a moment. "He isn't my boyfriend, we're just seeing each other right now."

Gabe set the completed paper on top of the stock of others before he began looking over the next one, making a little face at Brooke's words. He stayed quiet for a moment before setting the pen back down to look up at her again. "Are you seeing anyone else while you're seeing him? Or are you only going on dates with him?"

Brooke watched him as he picked up and set down his pen, moving both her hands to her lap to toy with. "Well, no, I'm not." She answered honestly. "But that does not mean we're exclusive. This was more of a blind date type of thing. I hardly have time to date let alone date many."

Gabe laced his hands together and placed them on top of his desk. He was kind of in teacher mode now, since this was usually how he sat when he was having a serious conversation with one of his students. "If you're only dating him and he's only dating you, that means you're exclusive. You might as well be his girlfriend. In which case, you're too busy to hang out with little ol' me. You've got work and your non-boyfriend."

Brooke watched as his stance chanced and her brow naturally rose at the sight, feeling as though she was almost getting interrogated. "Well, he hasn't asked me or made anything official." Brooke confirmed with her head nodding. "And I make time for my friends."

Gabe 's jaw clenched slightly as Brooke insisted that she wasn't his girlfriend and that she made time for friends. Just the idea of them eventually making it officially annoyed him and he wasn't so sure he wanted to get closer to her if that was going to eventually happen. "Well, I'm sure your friends really appreciate the effort you put into them."

Brooke could sense the change in his mood and refrained from poking fun at it like she would to make it lighter, not wanting to make him grumpier than he currently was. "Is this short and over tense response a quick hint to leave you alone now?"

Gabe licked over his bottom lip, thinking off her question for a moment. Yes, he wanted her to leave because he was an idiot and jealous and it confused him, which made him a little mad. But no, he didn't want her to leave because despite being jealous, confused and a little mad, he did like her company and he liked seeing her and her pretty eyes and amazing smile. He sighed a little and leaned back in his chair, looking over toward the clock. His free period was a little more than half way over. Soon he'd need to start getting ready for his next class. "I don't know..."

Brooke was a bit confused at that point. The signals she was getting from him screamed annoyance but his words said something otherwise. Scratching the side of her slender neck lightly, Brooke let out a breath and adjusted her jeans. "Well, I can go. If you need me to..."

Gabe tapped his fingers lightly against his desk, weighing on the options for a moment before nodding his head lightly. "Yea, that's...I have to start getting ready for my next class and...continue working on grading these papers," he began giving reasons as to why she should leave. "Plus you don't want to be stuck in those halls after the bell rings. It's a zoo."

Brooke let her eyes move down over his desk at the half graded papers, simply nodding afterwards. The last thing she wanted to do was overcrowd somebody, especially Gabe. "I'd rather not relive my high school days of being bumped around in the hallways," Brooke joked with a sweet smile, dipping down to retrieve her jacket to slip on. "I better get going, anyway. You can keep the rest of the cookies."

Gabe let out a soft, breathy laugh, somewhat halfheartedly at her joke about being bumped around in the halls. Her leaving was truly bittersweet for him since part of him really did want her to stay and hang out with him, maybe even meet up for a drink later after he was finished with his last class. But he knew that wasn't something he could do until he was over whatever it was he was feeling when it came to her and Seth being together. He gave her a small smile and nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Oh, I planned on it," he said, looking at the bag of cookies and then back to her. "I'll see you around, Brooke."

[bestpaleocookbookreviews]

I Inspire – Frank Storey

It ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!” —Rocky Balboa

Some stories are defined transformation, while others are defined by inspiration, but for firefighter and CrossFitter Frank Storey, his is a tale of DETERMINATION.

Frank grew up in Fort Pierce, Florida, a beachside town on the Southeast coast. “There were seven kids in the house,” he recalls. “We played outside, rode three-wheelers, and ate beenie weenies and mac and cheese.” Frank was an active kid, and found his outlet in athletics. He dabbled in wrestling, but when he discovered cross country, he found his calling.

Running gave Frank focus; it gave him a goal. He loved to push himself and fought hard to be the best. The miles of training required calories, however, and his coaches wanted him to keep his intake up. “I was skinny,” Frank says. “They wanted me to eat.” These were the days of the carbohydrate craze, and runners were at the epicenter of the movement. The pre-race ritual revolved around plates of spaghetti, but despite all the carbs, he still kept his six-pack. “Those days, I could eat anything and still kept a normal weight,” he recalls. “It wasn’t a struggle.”

At the age of 17, and with his parents’ permission, Frank enlisted in the Marine Corps, and thanks to his high school running habit, the notoriously difficult boot camp running regimen didn’t throw him for a loop. In fact, he gained 29 pounds, weight he attributes to simple chow-hall food and a steady diet of calisthenics. After boot camp, Frank went into active duty, working as a welder in Okinawa, Japan, during Operation Desert Storm. Aside from driving on the wrong side of the road a few times, and eating a live squid, Frank’s time there was uneventful, and when his deployment ended, he moved back to Fort Pierce.

Back in the States and out of the military, Frank’s attention turned to bodybuilding. He began working out daily at a gym called Nature’s Way, and eventually added over 60 pounds of bulk to his frame. His diet included six full meals a day, in addition to an entire loaf of bread as a snack. “I’d tear the crust off, ball it up and eat the whole loaf,” he recalls. “I was big, but I wasn’t very lean!”

One fateful afternoon, Frank decided he was going to do something he hadn’t done since he was a kid, and attempted to ride a mountain bike off a picnic table. “I slammed into the ground shoulder first,” he recalls. “That pretty much put an end to my bodybuilding career.”

Frank’s injury kept his arm in a sling for nine weeks, but as soon as it healed, he began looking for ways to work out again. With pumping iron out of the picture, he went back to the basic bodyweight exercises he had learned in boot camp. By this time, Frank was working as a corrections officer, and he’d heard about a competition called the Toughest Cop Alive (TCA).

Organized by the International Law Enforcement Games, the TCA contest encompasses eight separate events: a 5K run, the shot put, a 100-meter sprint, a 100-meter freestyle swim, a 20-foot rope climb, the bench press, a pull-up contest and a 200-meter obstacle course. Frank trained an entire year for the TCA, and ended up winning the pull-up and rope climb portions of the event.

Encouraged by his results, he immediately started preparations for the following year’s event, but during an afternoon practice, disaster struck. He had set up an obstacle course in his neighborhood, which included a wall that he used to vault over. On every other day, the ground behind the wall was flat. On this day, there was a hole. By the time he leaped over, it was too late to change course. Frank’s ankle rolled to the outside, and although he didn’t realize it at the time, he had suffered an “eversion” sprain.

Also known as a medial ankle sprain, the injury involves damage to the deltoid ligament on the medial (inside) edge of the ankle. Eversion sprains are rare, as the leg bone itself usually breaks before the deltoid ligament does. “I was in a walking boot for three months before I could even start rehab,” Frank recalls. “It probably would have been easier if I had broken my ankle.”

Frank spent months working with a physical therapist, doing stretches and ankle rotations, and working with resistance bands. Determined to stay in shape even while rehabbing his ankle, Frank continued to do whatever exercises he could. “I couldn’t run,” he recalls, “but I was still doing push-ups, sit-ups. I didn’t give up.”

For several years after his ankle injury, Frank’s competitive juices had stalled. He was working out, but in more of a holding- pattern than a focused program. When a friend mentioned that he was taking jiu-jitsu classes, Frank decided to give it a shot and signed up at the American Top Team (ATT). An offshoot of the legendary Brazilian Top Team, ATT is home to numerous professional MMA fighters and jiu-jitsu players. “It’s like a chess match,” Frank explains. “You solve problems and get excited when you learn something new.”

But after several years, and numerous broken toes, broken fingers and injured elbows, Frank decided that it was time to hang up his jiu-jitsu belt. “My son was getting older,” he explains. “I wanted to focus on being with him more.” At the same time, Frank’s career was also going through changes. His sister-in-law was a firefighter, and the pay and benefits were appealing. He enrolled in the Fire Academy, studied hard and landed a spot in the St. Lucie County Fire Department.

By this time, the TCA contest had expanded to include both firefighters and law enforcement officers. Determined to compete again, Frank set his sights on another run at the TCA and began training. When the day of the TCA arrived, Frank completed event after event without incident, until he got to the obstacle course. “At the end of the obstacle course, there is a sprint with a hurdle,” Frank recalls. “I went over, and when I landed, my foot rolled to the inside, the same injury as before.”

Another long recovery period followed, and with time on his hands, Frank’s attention wandered. While searching the Internet one day, he learned about a new workout trend called CrossFit. It piqued his interest, and after gathering together some rusty barbells and homemade medicine balls, Frank was ready to try it.

For the next 12 months, Frank CrossFitted in his garage. Eventually, his firefighter buddies started coming over. They would look up the WOD on CrossFit.com and train together, which got them results for a while. When the group started to outgrow their DIY equipment, Frank decided to sign up at a local box called CrossFit Fort Pierce.

“That first workout whipped my ass,” Frank recalls. “I did FRAN and thought I was going to die at the end of it, but I kept coming back.” He was sold on the social aspect of the gym, the friends he made and the positive, encouraging atmosphere. One of his personal mottos is “Hang out with people you want to be like,” and at CrossFit Fort Pierce, Frank found kindred spirits who could match his own drive and intensity.

It was at his CrossFit gym that Frank also learned about Paleo. “I was drinking diet Monster drinks, coffee with sugar in it, and I cut all that out,” he recalls. “The first week was tough, but you get used to it.” His nutritional regimen focused on eggs, almonds, fish, chicken, steak, asparagus and sweet potatoes, and he quickly began to see results. “Your clothes get looser, your insides feel good, you sleep good,” he says. “I feel great now.”

In typical Frank fashion, CrossFitting alone wasn’t enough to scratch his competitive itch. He enlisted in the National Guard and, at the age of 44, competes against 20-year-olds in the annual Army Physical Fitness Test (APFT). “They have us do a 2-mile run, sit-ups and push-ups,” Frank says. “These guys are quite a bit younger than me, and I should probably be retired at my age, but I’ve had the best PFT score in my unit the past few years.”

Frank’s family also has a competitive streak. His 14-year-old son CrossFits, wrestles in school and is an ATV racer. Frank’s girlfriend, who he nicknamed “Linda Carter” after TV’s Wonder Woman, is also a CrossFitter.

When asked why he trains as hard as he does, Frank says, “It’s not for looks. I want my son to be able to look up to me and know I’m going to be there for him.”

REFERENCES

Sayih J. “Toughest Cop Alive.” 911 Fitness. Fall 1999. http://www.911fitness.com/corner/articles/toughcop.htm

“Eversion Ankle Sprain.” Sportsinjuryclinic.net. http://www.sportsinjuryclinic.net/sport-injuries/ankle-achilles-shin-pain/eversion-ankle-sprain

“American Top Team.” Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Top_Team

“World Police and Fire Games.” Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Police_and_Fire_Games

The post I Inspire – Frank Storey appeared first on Paleo Magazine.

from Best Paleo Cookbook Reviews https://paleomagonline.com/inspire-frank-storey/

[spaceskam]

From A Whisper To A Scream (1/10)

(if the beginning looks familar, it’s because I posted the first 1k before I realized I was going to make it a full story)

ao3

The viola stayed under Alex's chin even as his bow slowed and his fingers fell limp against the neck.

Maria kicked him to tell him he was fucking up, but he couldn't fix it. He was far too busy watching as Michael Guerin, quarterback of the football team who was being scouted by five different universities, slipped into the band room with a note in his hand. He had that award-winning smile on his face as he strolled towards Mr. Richard. Alex couldn't take his eyes off him; he never could.

Two months ago, he'd been assigned to tutor Michael Guerin because he was failing English. He'd been annoyed at first. While everyone else found him charming, Alex found him annoying, arrogant, and chronically heterosexual at best. However, two conversations with him later, he discovered he was a goddamn math genius and he wasn't actually bad at English either, he just didn't put in the effort. Alex had just made himself a personal pest rather than a tutor, breathing over his shoulder until he did his work. That hovering turned into something a tad unexpected...

"Alex," Mr. Richard said, not stopping as he waved the paper in the air, "Mrs. Doyle needs you, bring your bag."

Alex nodded, ignoring Maria's confused look as he quickly packed up his viola and headed towards the door of the band room. Michael was leaning against the wall beside the door, flashing that mischievous grin.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble," he teased, speed walking down the concrete pathway that led to the virtually abandoned old gym that was only used during volleyball season. Michael had swiped his coach's key and made a copy, letting both of them inside.

"You can't just take me out of class whenever you're bored," Alex scolded, following him through the dimly lit gym towards the locker room without question. As much as those butterflies in his stomach were going crazy, he never let that show. It was easier to pretend he didn't really give a shit about him if he acted like it at all times.

"Who said I was bored? You can't make assumptions like that, Manes," Michael said, still grinning wildly as he unlocked the office that was used as storage more than anything. There were stacks of extra chairs and two old desks.

"I'm not making assumptions, I know you," he said, carefully putting down his case and his bag, "But seriously, our concert is in a month and I have a solo."

"Ooh, violin solo? Look at you," Michael teased. Alex rolled his eyes, standing up and looking at Michael who was waiting patiently for him with his hands behind his back.

"Viola," he corrected. Michael shrugged like the difference didn't matter, rolling from his heels to his toes and then back again. Alex stared at him blankly. "So what’s so important that you couldn't wait until after class?"

Michael's grin became entirely childish as he took a step closer. Alex leaned his hands back on one of the desks, lifting himself to sit on it easily.

"I had a dream about you last night," Michael said. Alex raised a lazy eyebrow despite his genuine interest.

Whatever they did wasn't real. It was something Alex had found to be very useful for bribery whenever Michael needed to do homework or a stress relief tactic, all born out of Michael's innocent questioning if the rumors about Alex were true. Alex was nothing more than a step in Michael's coming out process. But that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it.

"You were in that sexy little concert uniform, playing me a song, kept me distracted all day," Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.

"What are you talking about? My black slacks and white button-up? That's not sexy," Alex said. Michael bit down on his lip, eyes scanning over him anyway.

"Don't forget the bowtie," Michael breathed, taking another step closer, "Can I touch you?"

"Depends," Alex said, watching Michael snap his eyes up to meet his to wait for the permission he needed, "Did you finish that book report that's due tomorrow?"

"Yes," Michael answered.

"Mhm, what was it about?" Alex asked. Michael gave a soft sigh of disbelief, his shoulders dropping.

"Really, Alex?" Alex didn't budge. "It was about the roles the different women in Okonkwo's life played."

"Length?"

Michael gave a soft, pathetic whine. Alex leaned back against the wall, thighs spread wide, and letting Michael continue to bounce up on his toes.

"1,534 words, double spaced," Michael answered.

"And?"

"And MLA format, c'mon, Alex," he groaned. Alex allowed a small smile and raised his hand, gesturing him forward. Michael broke out in a smile, barrelling forward to fit between his thighs and his lips meeting Alex's.

Alex locked his legs around his hips, holding onto the back of his head as he kissed him without thought. It was slow, deep, deliberate as Michael pressed in as much as he could. Alex leaned his head against the wall, Michael holding his hips at the edge of the desk to keep them close to his.

Touching him made it obvious how pent up with unused energy he was. He didn't have practice this morning, leaving him extra antsy and needing an outlet. Alex started to push off his letterman jacket with one hand, leading his head to the crook of his neck. Michael shook off the jacket and audibly sighed in relief as Alex touched his arm, slipping under the short sleeve.

"That why you couldn't wait?" Alex asked, voice breathy as Michael skillfully kissed and bit at his neck without leaving a mark. He pulled up the bottom of his shirt to touch more of his skin, feeling the way it helped him relax.

"I just," Michael whispered, pausing just for a second to speak as he squeezed Alex's hips, "There's so much fucking chaos in my head, sometimes I just need you to make it shut the fuck up."

"Sex is really that distracting for you?" Alex asked, laughter in his voice. To him, sleeping with people definitely didn't make his brain stop. If anything, it made him think more.

"No," Michael breathed, his face still in Alex's neck, "It's just you."

Alex felt his entire body go rigid and he thought about pushing him away. It felt like he crossed some sort of unspoken line, but he hadn't. Not really. It was just... A lot.

"Dreaming about you was actually kinda nice, sexy outfit aside,” Michael admitted, huffing a laugh, "Woke up feeling well rested for once."

"Um," Alex breathed, swallowing harder than he meant to. He let his legs drop from where they were locked around his hips. "Maybe we should..."

"Nah, I'm good, sorry," Michael said, lifting his head and kissing him again. Alex pushed away his concerns probably a little too effectively, focusing on his lips as he grabbed a handful of his hair.

They kissed and touched until the bell rang. That part was unintentional and they had to be each other's mirror, fixing up each other's hair and their clothes to make sure they looked normal whenever they went to their next class. Alex deliberately avoided eye contact, not ready to face the weird admissions that came up.

"So, uh, you'll come over after you get out of band practice?" Michael clarified before they left.

"Do I need to? I mean, you already finished your paper," Alex pointed out. Michael's eyes flickered over his face.

"Uh, yeah, right, nevermind," Michael said, putting some space between them until his back hit a stack of chairs and he jumped. Alex furrowed his eyebrows. That was easily the least smooth he'd ever seemed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Michael said firmly, "Sanders is just working late and I had some math homework, but yeah I'm good."

"You're good at math, Guerin," Alex laughed.

"I know," Michael said, a smile slowly coming to his face, "Which is why I said I'm good. Let's go, don't wanna be late."

Alex left first, waiting outside the gym as Michael locked up both the office and the gym. His better judgment told him to put more space between them, let Michael take some space so he could realize whatever he was feeling wasn't real. It'd be gone as soon as he gave it some thought and Alex needed to avoid hurting himself.

But, as Michael locked the gym door and the bell rang telling him he was late for class, Alex didn't budge.

"So, I'll see you after practice?" Alex said. Michael looked at him with wide eyes, but it slowly bled into a sweet smile and he nodded.

Alex headed to class, knowing he was making a mistake and refusing to have any regrets. 

“Why did Mrs. Doyle need you?” Maria asked when he took his seat beside her. He looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“Huh?” 

“The art teacher? The one who called you out of class?” Maria filled in, but she soon realized something and her eyes widened, “Wait, you don’t even take art, Alex, what‒”

“Shh, class is starting.” 

He avoided her questioning looks and changed the subject when she tried to bring it up. Eventually he’d probably have to talk about it, but it was much more fun to completely avoid that. He didn’t think he ever wanted people to know he was hooking up with Michael Guerin, at least not while he was in high school. Maybe he’d brag about it in a few years.

After practice, he quickly headed to the car that had been passed down through all of his brothers and started his drive to the back of junkyard where Michael lived in a trailer with Old Man Sanders. Halfway through, his phone started ringing. The only reason he answered it was because of the name across his screen.

“There better be a good reason you’re calling because you interrupted a really good song,” Alex said playfully. His brother’s laugh was clear on the other side of the call, clear enough to tell Alex he was actually somewhere with good reception.

“I can hang up and leave you to it, but I had a small window and I wanted to make sure you were all good,” Flint said. Alex smiled easily. He missed Flint more than he ever thought he would. Their relationships got better once he was out of the house and they weren’t being directly put against each other anymore. 

“Yeah, Dad’s been chill lately,” Alex said.

“Good, good,” Flint said softly.

“Where are you now?”

“Uh, can’t say, you know how it is,” he said. Alex rolled his eyes.

“What’s the point of it being called the family business if you can’t tell family?”

“You know how it is, Alex, you’re not quite a Manes Man yet.”

“I turn 18 in super soon and Dad is already trying to talk to me about the Air Force which means that eventually he’s going to have the whole Family Business talk with me,” Alex said, annoyance in his voice. He was always stuck in this weird middle ground where he both felt left out and wanted nothing to do with it. The idea of being under his dad’s thumb  for his whole life sounded like hell, but there was something kind of cool about their multi-generational dynasty of researchers. He didn’t know too much about exactly what they did, but he knew rich people paid them a lot of money for it. Alex was pretty sure they were spies. “I should get to know where my own brothers are.”

“Well, you know where Greg and Clay are, isn’t that close enough?” Flint teased.

“Clay is boring and Greg gives me history lessons every time I ask him where he is,” Alex groaned, “At least you go cool places.”

“It’s because I’m the coolest,” Flint bragged. Alex rolled his eyes. “Here, I’ll give you a hint: it’s really fucking cold.”

“Canada?” Alex guessed, “Somewhere in Europe? You promised if you went back to Europe you’d get me something.”

“Good thing I’m not in Europe,” Flint laughed, “Not in Canada either. But, hey, look, I gotta go, I was just checking in.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get out of talking to me before I can figure out where you are.”

“You got me,” Flint said, “But I also have to actually go. I’ll try to come see you soon.”

“Bring me something cool when you do.”

“I’ll do my best. Alright, love you, bye, weirdo.”

“Bye!”

Alex ended the call just as parked behind Michael’s truck and it wasn’t long before he found himself in his kitchen, mixing together ingredients to make cookies as the oven preheated and forgetting all about Flint. Michael had been the one to offer to make the cookies, to give them something to eat while they did homework, but it quickly turned into Alex doing all the work and neither of them was surprised by that.

Nor were they surprised when Michael still wanted something to do. Alex let himself focus on the kisses Michael was putting on his neck, his eyes slowly closing as he completely forgot what he was doing and rough hands slid beneath his shirt. He didn’t know what the hell had gotten into Michael today. He was always touchy, but today he’d brought it to an all new level. Alex didn’t say anything. He liked how desired it made him feel.

However, that only lasted up until the moment they heard his dad’s truck drive up. Alex pushed him off and pulled up the collar of his shirt to wipe his neck dry. Michael quickly hopped up to sit on the other side of the oven, effectively putting a few feet between them by the time Old Man Sanders walked inside.

“Boys,” he said, putting his keys on the hook beside the door.

“Sanders,” Michael said, mimicking the gruff tone of his voice. 

“Hi, Mr. Sanders,” Alex said, giving the most respectful smile he could manage. Sanders was probably used to him being here at this point considering Alex found himself at Michael’s at least twice a week. He was a very dedicated tutor, after all. However, Alex was taught nothing if not to give the best impression to adults as possible.

Sanders, however, never seemed to put up the same over the top act. He walked closer, peering into the bowl of half mixed cookie dough with a raised eyebrow.

“Y’all planning on making dinner or just desert?”

“Haven’t decided,” Michael answered. Sanders nodded.

“Alright,” he said. He looked at Alex and then over to Michael. “Make sure you leave that door open, you know this trailer has thin walls.”

Alex held his breath and Michael’s eyes widened. “Dude!”

“Don’t act like that, I know you.”

“Alex is my tutor,” Michael pointed out. Alex wanted to laugh. As if that would stop him.

“Well it ain’t Alex I’m worried about,” Sanders said. Michael watched him with an unreadable expression until Sanders reached up to ruffle his hair. “Relax, I’m messing with you, boy. You know I trust you more than my own eyes. But I still don’t need Sargent Jackass thinking you corrupted his boy. No offense.”

“None taken,” Alex laughed, letting himself relax when he realized he didn’t care. Sanders suspected something and he didn’t care. That was kind of nice.

“Good kid,” Sanders said, taking a deep breath, “Well, make sure you feed that dog. Alex, you can stay as late as you need.”

Sanders shuffled back to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Michael leaned his ear against the wall, holding a finger out to Alex to tell him to wait. Alex just rolled his eyes and went back to stirring. Seconds after the shower turned on, Michael was back to being pressed up against him and taking his ear between his teeth.

“Oh, I’m gonna corrupt you alright,” Michael said, voice rough as he pulled Alex’s ass as close as he physically could.

Alex gasped playfully, grabbing his wrists and easily flipping them so Michael’s back was the counter. Michael’s eyes widened and his smile was borderline filthy as Alex pushed up against him. He leaned in close and Michael’s eyes drifted down to his lips before meeting his eyes again.

“You know better than anyone that there’s not much left to corrupt,” Alex said softly, “And what happened to asking?”

Michael nodded, still grinning as he looked at him with those dopey eyes.

“Right, sorry,” he said, “Can you please spit in my‒”

“I’m gonna finish these cookies,” Alex said, gently pushing him out of the way. Michael laughed softly, but he stayed put as Alex did just that.

He eventually found himself on the floor of the living room as the cookies baked. Michael was reading his essay and Alex laid, cuddling their old dog that only answered to the name Dog even though Sanders tried to give him a million names that never stuck. So he cuddled Dog and listened to Michael read and smelled the cookies that were baking. It was nice and homey in a way that made him never want to leave.

It stayed nice as they went over the physics lecture while eating cookies. It stayed nice when Michael fed Dog and suggested they go to his bedroom so they didn’t have to listen to him eat. It stayed nice when his books ended up on the floor and Michael ended up in his lap. It was even nice when Michael bit into his shoulder to keep quiet.

“Okay, so we have 4x²+12x=135, so how does that factor?”

Alex was laying in Michael’s bed, half naked and body still a little hazy as he focused on the homework that he came over to do in the first place. Michael was distracting, but he was going to at least pretend to help with his homework.

“Hmm,” Michael hummed, flopping down beside him after replacing his briefs, “Both factors start with -2x, right?”

“Right,” Alex confirmed, smiling a little to himself. Michael was a math genius and algebra was his specialty, but Alex quite enjoyed when he was able to fog up his brain to the point he had to actually think. “So factors of 135 are 3 and 45, 5 and 27, and 9 and 15, so which of those pairings help you get the factors of the equation?”

“What was it again?” Michael asked, voice genuinely a little lost. Alex rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling as he felt Michael roll closer to peer over his shoulder.

“4x²+12x=135,” Alex repeated. In the middle of his reading, though, Michael had gone back to kissing on his neck. “Hey, pay attention.”

“I am, I am, keep talking,” Michael urged, his hand sliding down until it started to edge past the waistband of Alex’s unbuttoned jeans.

“Keep talking?” Alex laughed, playfully nudging him before squirming a little as Michael's thumb pressed against the hickey he'd left on his ass that was still a little sensitive, “Are you getting off on me reading you equations?”

“You’re just so hot,” Michael breathed, but Alex wasn’t too stupid to hear the concealed yes in his words. He laughed and rolled onto his side, shoving Michael gently.

“You are! You fucking weirdo,” Alex teased, still laughing as Michael rested his head on the bed now that Alex had rolled away. He had that endlessly fond smile that he only gave when they were alone, his curls flopping towards the bed because of gravity. He was ridiculously gorgeous and overwhelmingly sweet. But that was too close to feelings, so Alex looked back to the math. “And you say that I’m a nerd.”

“What if I read you some Shakespeare, would you get turned on then?” Michael questioned. Alex just rolled his eyes and did his best to focus. Michael settled against his back, peering over his shoulder. “Okay, where were we?”

“Yeah, where were we?” Alex echoed.

Thirty minutes passed as Alex talked over Michael's homework. A few minutes in he'd resigned to the understanding that Michael wasn't really listening. He'd rested his head against Alex's back, his eyelashes brushing his skin as they closed and didn't reopen by the time Alex reached the third question. The only reason he knew he hadn't fallen asleep was because, at some point, he'd begun to play with Alex's fingers and he hadn't stopped.

It was weirdly peaceful between them. They didn't do this. They didn't cuddle or touch unless it was leading to something else. That made it feel less like convenience and more like he actually wanted to be here. It made things blurry in a way Alex wasn't prepared for. So why wasn't he putting a stop to it?

After a moment, he found himself not even focusing on the math anymore. Instead his eyes stayed on the way Michael's rough fingers rubbed against Alex's precise calluses that came from playing a stringed instrument every day for years. It was a drastic contrast, similar to the one that came with Michael's torn up nails and Alex's neatly painted ones.

"You need to stop biting your nails," Alex told him softly. Michael breathed in heavily like he was being woken up, lifting his head off Alex's back and leaving him cold.

"Paint them for me and maybe I'll stop," he said, voice rough and sleepy in a way that struck Alex in his chest.

"Wouldn't you get made fun of?" Alex asked.

"Fuck 'em," Michael said. That paired with the cuddling and the whole dream comment from before was... a lot. Alex cleared his throat.

"Okay."

Within a few minutes, Alex found himself perched on Michael's lap and a bottle of nail polish balancing on his math homework. It was a pretty compromising position, both of them shirtless and disregarding the homework he was here for, but Alex couldn't bring himself to mind.

"I wish I could see the look on Valenti's face when he sees this," Alex said, painting the black varnish over his nails. They were short and torn up, the skin around them just as bitten, and Alex knew his work would be messed up within a couple days, but he kept on nonetheless.

"Nah, he won't actually care. The dude tries so hard to fit in that he forgets to have his own opinions. He won't react until someone else does first," Michael told him. He looked dazed and sleepy, his cocky walls thrown to the wind. It was Alex's favorite version of him.

"Still. I don't know how you deal with all of that shit."

Michael shrugged. "It's not like I'm out or anything, so it’s not at me."

"Yeah, but doesn't it bother you hearing them say homophobic shit? I don't think I could stay quiet all the time," Alex said, raising Michael hand closer to his lips. He blew on his nails gently before swapping hands. His freshly painted one rested on Alex's thigh.

"It's easier to stay quiet," Michael admitted. Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Then aren't you just doing the same thing Kyle does?"

"I don't conform so much that I lose myself," Michael said, shifting a little bit as his eyes focused somewhere to Alex's left. "I, uh, I just spent so much of my life in foster care and bouncing around to shitty houses where silence was the best option. It's not an easy habit to unlearn."

"Oh," Alex said, eyes widening a little, "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "Once you hit a certain age, they just start putting you in group homes because most families don't want to foster teenage boys. I get it, I guess, but the one I was in last was hell. Everything I did was wrong and I paid for it."

"How'd you end up with Old Man Sanders, then?" Alex asked.

"Long story," Michael said, "But basically he found out I was sleeping in one of the abandoned trucks in the junkyard and instead of sending me back, he went through all the work to get certified to foster and went through hell to get me in his care. I basically just got really fucking lucky."

"Sounds like it," Alex agreed. He didn't have the right words for it and, honestly, he wasn't sure he'd say them if he did. Michael was sharing more than he usually did. They were still in this weird middle ground of doing things they didn't do and Alex didn't want to pop the bubble.

"But my point is that it's not as easy as just speaking your mind," Michael said. Alex nodded, switching hands again to put a second coat. He thought about doing a third coat just to have an excuse to stay in his lap.

"Reminds me of my brother," Alex admitted. Michael laughed and Alex glanced at his face for a second, that easy smile on his lips.

"Your brother? That's a funny way to say you don't think I'm hot," Michael teased. Alex rolled his eyes.

"I meant the whole conformity thing. He used to have a personality, I think, and sometimes he’s still cool, but somewhere along the line he just stopped fighting. It was easier to keep his mouth shut and do what my dad said. Even now he does that, goes where my dad tells him to. I never really got it, but I guess you have a point," Alex said, “I’m just not a fan.”

"You've just got massive balls, dude," Michael said, shaking his head, "Seriously, I know I joke that you're just a band geek, but it takes balls to be you and refuse to conform no matter what. It's... It's really impressive. Sometimes I wish I could be like you."

Alex stared at him for a long minute. He didn't know what earned him this version of this man but he didn't want to go back. He let himself be a little reckless; he let himself fall just a bit.

He leaned in for a kiss and it was welcomed. Michael wrapped one arm around Alex and placed his free hand on his cheek. It felt so natural to be with him in this way and that in itself was overwhelming. But, in the morning, they'd go back to normal. Tonight was a fluke.

Michael tightened his grip on him and moved so Alex's back was pressed into the mattress. Alex weaved his hands into his hair and wrapped his legs around his hips. Michael was warm and relaxed, just comfortable with being with him. Alex had an unhealthy attachment to it. He needed to put space between them before he got his heart broken. 

He pulled Michael closer.

They shared breath as Michael kept the pace slow, each kiss seeming to hold their own distinct and equally important purpose. Alex's heart was slamming in his chest and he didn't mind. 

He dragged his hand over his back. Michael had scars all over him, almost as much as Alex, and he kept them covered with clothes as often as possible. But here he was bare and Alex could feel them. He put his hand flat against the small of his back, pulling him down even more. Michael smiled.

It was all ruined by Alex's alarm going off.

"What the fuck is that?" Michael asked, lifting his head just barely. Alex shoved his shoulders gently. 

"I gotta go," Alex said, sitting up and reaching for his shirt after he turned his curfew warning alarm off.

"Go? Dude, it's late, just stay," Michael urged softly, that same voice from earlier that day when he asked Alex to come over despite not needing his help. A hand crossed over the front of his chest, trying to push him back into bed. Alex pushed his hand away, hoping it would also push away the butterflies that filled his stomach at the request to just stay.

"My dad would freak out if I did that," Alex said. 

"What happened to not conforming?" Michael asked. Alex rolled his eyes.

"Not the same thing," Alex told him. Michael still had that look on his face like he actually didn't want him to go. And Alex really didn't want to. "I gotta go."

"But…" he said, his eyes darting around the room as if it would give him an excuse to make Alex stay. "At least let me drive you home."

"I drove here," Alex laughed. Michael scowled and gave an irritated pout. Alex made the questionable decision to kiss it off his face. When he pulled away, Michael's eyes were still closed and he signed.

"This is torture, you know that, right?" Michael groaned. Alex stood up and Michael collapsed onto the pillow. It was only then that Alex realized the bottle of nail polish hadn't spilled. He didn't comment on it as he reached over to grab it and closed it.

"You already got off tonight and you have two whole hands, so I don't consider it torture," Alex said decidedly, slipping the bottle into his pocket. 

Michael wrapped the pillow up in his arms, cuddling into it as he stared up at Alex with those eyes that were hard to deny. Part of him wanted to cave and crawl back into bed, but a much bigger part knew that would only be bad for him. He needed to take a day or two away from him and reset so he didn't end up catching feelings. Or, more feelings.

"You're so mean to me."

"Shut up," Alex laughed, stepping into his shoes. He picked up his bag and pulled it over his head. Michael still looked utterly pathetic. "You know, for a jock, you're pretty whiny."

 "Fuck you."

"I know you want to," Alex teased. Michael breathed in deep.

"God, I really, really do."

"I'll see you whenever," Alex laughed, grabbing his keys.

"Tomorrow," Michael corrected. Alex smiled and opened his bedroom door.

"Tomorrow."

[northshorehealthandfitness]

around the sun

Hi friends! How are you? I hope you had a wonderful weekend! Ours was the ideal mix of low-key lounging and adventures nearby. I’d love to hear what you had going on!

A friend had a baby last week, so I was excited to make a baby meal to take over to their house. I LOVE making baby meals because each time I remember how special they were after Liv was born. When chocolate-covered acai berries were a food group, I really looked forward to having a *real* meal and time to chat with friends when they stopped by with a meal. I still vividly remember each of the dinners we received after Liv was born because they tasted even more incredible in my sleep-deprived and hangry state.

I decided to try out a new recipe: Ina Garten’s Chicken Parmesan. Ina never does me wrong.

It smelled awesome and was so easy to put together. I’m definitely going to make it again soon for a weeknight meal! I packed it up with some roasted potatoes, lemon-garlic asparagus,

salad (greens, cucumber, carrots, strawberries and feta with homemade balsamic on the side)

and the most ridiculous Birthday Cake Chex Mix. My friends at General Mills sent the Chex mix supplies, so Liv and I excitedly made a double batch. We went through our bag within a span of a few hours.

We dropped off the meal and got to meet the sweet little baby, too. It’s so hard to believe the girls were ever that little, and that they ever stayed in the same spot for so long. Heh.

99% of the time that I make a baby meal, I’ll make the same thing for us to have at home for dinner. This time, I was cooking everything a bit more quickly, and we felt like getting out of the house for dinner. So, we decided to take the girls out to Bleu Pub for burgers. 

They have housemade black bean burgers (LOVE them!), great fries and live music. 

 The girls bopped around to the music while they ate their burgers, and dinner was fantastic. I’m also strangely into cider right now and the pear cider was everything with my burger, sweet potato fries and salad.

This post hops around the place a bit with order of events – long weekends will do that to ya – but Pilot was out of town for a while, we made up with lost time with two date nights within the span of a few days. WHAAAT. 

We hit the gym for a nighttime workout session and then had the best dinner at Two Friends. 

(Wearing my fave sweater with these mules. <— 40% off right now!)

Saturday, we got a lot done around the house (and continued chipping away at the mountain of boxes from the garage), and took a break to take the girls to the park. The weather was surprisingly wintery! I had to break out long-sleeved tees and jackets for the girls. I was thinking that the park would be empty because it was so cool and cloudy, but instead, it was completely packed. The girls spent some time in the fresh air swinging, sliding and running around.

(When did P turn into a big girl?!)

The Pilot and I enjoyed dinner at 306 North, which is another one of our local favorites. I broke my “don’t eat raw seafood here” rule – I got food poisoning from the sushi place last time we lived here. Word to the world: never order the “special roll” – and devoured some raw oysters. We shared the oysters with a cheese board, and for my entree I rolled with the scallops. It came with grilled asparagus and truffle sweet potatoes.

Sunday, I turned the big 3-3. I got to wake up to the birthday song, performed by my favorite people, and we took a little road trip to Tallahassee. We got there just in time for the girls’ jump reservation at Sky Zone. You know you’re a parent when there’s nothing you’d rather do on your birthday than take your kiddos somewhere super fun. I thought about sneaking in an OTF class, but the timing wasn’t super convenient. I figured I can catch one when we’re in Tucson for Turkey Day! The girls loved the trampoline park. It was extremely clean and I loved that each trampoline was segmented into individual areas. It felt much safer than some of the other ones we’ve visited.

After the girls jumped their hearts out, we headed to Whole Foods. We grabbed all of the essentials we’ve been missing – I’ll share some new finds in Friday Faves if I like them! – and devoured some hot bar for lunch. Hot bar, I miss you SO much. When we lived in Tucson, it was one of our favorite places to go; they always have something for everyone. 

We came back home for cake! We picked up a cute little fall cake with autumn trees, and I blew out the candles with this little family I love so much.  

32 was a really great year. The previous couple of years were challenging in so many aspects, but I was optimistic at this time last year. 32 was the year I got back on my feet and rebuilt myself after a little bit of turmoil. I have my fingers crossed that this next year will have the same positive momentum. I’m excited to see what it has in store.

Hope you had a great weekend, too! What’s something fun that you did? Favorite birthday cake flavor? I’m usually a chocolate fanatic, but we decided to get vanilla with vanilla frosting (mostly so the girls would actually go to sleep!) and it was so, so good.

xo

Gina

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