#matt nutcracker | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

witchygagirlwrites · 1 month ago

Text

Forbidden Territory

Kelly Severide x Casey Sister Reader (Nicknamed Tiny Dancer)

When you make it home to Chicago you meet Matt's best friend and when your place to stay falls through he offers his spare room.

You were glad to be back in Chicago. Your extra clothes and furniture was in Matt’s storage unit, everything you’d taken with you was piled in the hatch of your suv. When Charlise called near the end of your tour to say she was opening a studio back home you jumped at the chance to teach there. You were retiring anyway. God that sounded insane, retiring at your age but you’d danced with some of the best tropes around the world over the last seven years. Roles in the nutcracker, black swan and more. It was time to go home. You wanted a more normal life, a more set schedule and you missed your big brother.

You stopped to get gas and your phone rang while you were in the convenience store. You glanced down to see it was the rental agency. “Hello” “Ms Casey?” “Speaking?” the woman on the phone took a deep breath and you knew it was bad news “Ms Casey unfortunately your rental has fallen through. Upon the last inspection black mold was found. You will be refunded completely and if something becomes available you will be at the top of candidate list”

You didn’t want to be rude. It wasn’t her fault it really wasn’t but how did that help you now? “When will my refund be sent to me?” you asked and she replied “It will be back in your account within the next forty eight hours” you sighed “Ok. Thank you for letting me know and thank the agency for the fast turn around on the refund and please let me know when and if something becomes available” “Yes ma’am and again my apologies. Have a good day” “You too”

You hung up and stared at the phone. Guess your first stop would be to Matt’s after all.

Kelly was asleep on Matt’s couch. The two of them had gone out the night before and Gabby had simply dumped the both of them back at Matt’s. He groaned and rolled over on the couch. Matt was in the kitchen, arguing with the coffee maker from the sound of it and he laughed “Morning Case” “Yeah morning Sev” he laughed.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked around for where he’d tossed his shirt before he’d knocked out on the couch. He leaned down to pick it up and was pulling it over his head as Matt’s front door came swinging open “Matthew! I need some help with a place to stay…” he cut his eyes up and a woman stood there. She was wearing leggings and a NYC t-shirt over it and tilted her head to the side at him “You’re not Matt, who the hell are you?”

He felt a grin slip onto his face because she was fucking gorgeous whoever she was but that grin quickly fell when Matt walked around the corner “Tiny? What the hell. I thought you were going to your place first?” Kelly looked from the woman to Matt “Who is this? Because I think Gabby would be interested to know?” he laughed and the woman put her hands on her hips and stared him down “Gabby knows her boyfriend’s little sister”

______________________

You were not expecting to have a gorgeous guy sitting on your brother’s couch putting his shirt on but you weren’t complaining of the view either. Matt put his arm around your shoulder and introduced you “I call her Tiny Dancer or just Tiny” you cut your eyes at him “You know two people heard that and suddenly everything had that on it?” he grinned “Good to know my nickname for you even hit Tokyo”

“This is Tiny?” The guy on the couch asked and that was when you got a good look at him “Hold up, you’re Severide right?” he nodded and stood to offer his hand “Kelly Severide. Nice to meet you” “Likewise” you replied then cut your eyes at Matt “Matthew! Your little sister is currently homeless! Charlise has a one bedroom. My rental has black mold. Where am I gonna stay?” he grimaced “I got a one bedroom here Tiny. Unless you want to sleep on the couch?”

“I have a spare bedroom?” Kelly offered and Matt shot him a glare “Don’t even Sev” and you raised an eyebrow “Ok then I guess I’ll find an extended stay until a rental comes up?” Kelly looked at Matt “Come on Man, she’s your little sister. I’m not a monster. She’d be a lot safer with me”

Matt looked from you to Kelly then sighed “You would be safer staying at the loft with Kelly. I trust him with you” you shrugged “If you trust him I do” Kelly nodded “I’ll get you my extra key once Matt here gives me a ride home” you laughed “Long night?” and the two shrugged “Few too many” you shook your head but it made sense. Kelly was Matt’s best friend after all.

“I’ll take you home then Tiny I’ll take you to breakfast” Matt offered and you nodded to the time “Um lunch there big brother” he grimaced “Lunch” you laughed “Can I follow you to Kelly’s then so I know the way?” Kelly raised a hand “I could drive you and Matt could follow to pick you up for lunch?” Matt nodded “Makes sense”

You shrugged “I don’t care as long as I have a bed tonight. I drove for like seventeen hours the last two days” and held your keys out Kelly “Hurt my car and I may hurt you” he smiled at Matt “She’s so cute but so mean” Matt laughed “She’s always been like that” you shook your head “Get a move on boys”

_______________________

Kelly’s place was fairly nice and the spare bedroom was spacious. You walked around it after him and Matt helped you carry your stuff up “I’ll pay you something while I’m here” “No you won’t. You’re Matt’s sister. You’re not paying anything” he argued and Matt shook his head “He’s just like that”

You shook your head “Well I won’t be in your way. I’ll be working at the dance studio four days a week anyways” Kelly nodded “You have a key. Come and go as you please” him and Matt shook hands and Matt thanked him for helping you in a tight spot then nodded to you “Come on Tiny let’s go get something to eat and catch up” you smiled “Good because I’m starving “ he laughed and patted Kelly’s shoulder on the way by “See ya later man”

You were fine with staying with Kelly in theory but it was proving difficult with waking up and walking into the kitchen area of the loft to him, shirtless making coffee and looking like that.

You walked out of your room, wearing a sweatshirt that hit midthigh. You had slept in just it. The moment you stepped into the kitchen you stopped because Kelly was standing with his back to you and you could watch the muscles in his back move along with him and damn your mouth was practically watering.

“Want some coffee Tiny?” he asked, cutting his eyes over his shoulder at you and you felt your face warm. Did he realize you were checking him out? God you hoped not. “Yeah, please” you told him as you walked around to sit on the barstool across from him. He grabbed another mug and filled it then passed it to you. “Do you have a class today?” you nodded “Yeah, it’s the junior class though so it’s five year olds. I love working with them”

He grinned “I bet the baby ballerinas are adorable. You’re pretty cute wandering around here in your gear” “Did you call me cute?” you asked with a grin and he shook his head “Cute as in adorable not cute as in hitting on my best friend’s sister” you rolled your eyes “Fine” and he laughed “You are a menace Tiny Casey” you grinned “But I’m fun. I also have a zumba class with Cruz this afternoon so I’m also busy. Thanks for the coffee. I’ll see you later” you stood up and headed back to your room, carrying the coffee with you.

________________________

Kelly tried and failed to not look after you as you walked out of the room. Damn you were pushing the bounds of his willpower. He was a good man. He wouldn’t hit on his best friend’s little sister. He knew Kelly had practically raised you. He’d offered his guest room to help out, to give you a safe place to stay but damn could you stop flirting with him at every chance and wearing shirts and sweatshirts that barely covered your ass around the loft?

He just got a flash of the pink underwear you were wearing and he had no idea how he’d managed to not be rock hard at the moment. He took a deep breath and downed his coffee. He needed to get into work.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Matt asked because you’d just let it slip that you’d gotten mugged in London. You hadn’t even gotten hurt. Your purse had gotten stolen but they only got like the equivalence of ten bucks. “Why would I worry you about that Matt?” you asked, sipping the lemonade you had. “Because you got mugged” he stated and you shrugged “I didn’t get hurt”

He called your full name and you flinched “You haven’t called me that since we were kids” he nodded “You’re acting like a child. Something happens to you, even something small you tell me. It’s important” “Matt you’re a fire captain. I’m not worrying my big brother over something so trivial” “And if something big would’ve happened to you?” he questioned and you shrugged “I would’ve told you? Why are you being like this?

“Because you’ve been away from home for seven years and sit there laughing over a story about you getting mugged?” you sighed “Because he fell after stealing my purse. It was funny”

“Use your brain Tiny. He could’ve hurt you” you felt your face fall “Matty I love you. I worship the damn ground you walk on because you raised me but I’m grown now I need my brother I don’t need you to be my father” you stood and grabbed your jacket and purse. “Where are you going Tiny?” he asked and you shook your head “To the loft. I think Kel had a date tonight so I’ll be alone. I’ll talk to you tomorrow”

_____________________

Kelly was sitting on the couch watching the game. As far as he knew you would be at Matt’s most of the night so when the door flung open he was surprised when you came storming in. “Tiny?” you jumped and threw your purse and jacket “Fuck! I thought you had a date Kel”

He shrugged “I broke it off. Didn’t feel like it” the truth was he wasn’t as interested as he thought he was in her. You nodded “Sorry for the entrance. Me and Matt kind of argued” he nodded slowly “Need to talk?” and you rolled your eyes “Yeah I’m gonna talk to my brother’s best friend about him” he grinned “Come on sweetheart. I know he can be an ass”

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth then nodded “Let me change my clothes?” he nodded “Want a drink?” You grinned then “That wine you just brought?” and he smiled “Yes ma’am” and watched you walk away to the spare room. It was just a drink with a friend. No big deal.

_____________________

You put on your NYC shirt and a pair of cloth sleep shorts before heading back out. Kelly was at the island and raised an eyebrow when you came out “So what did Matt do?” you slid onto the barstool across from him “I recognize the fact that he had to practically raise me. I do and god knows I love him for that but Kelly I want a big brother. I need a big brother. I don’t need a father. He got mad because I didn’t tell him I was mugged in London. Your jobs are dangerous! Why worry him?”

He shrugged “He just worries about you sweetheart” you nodded “I know but dammit I’m a grown woman” his eyes flickered across you and he grinned “I know” and you felt your face warm “I just I hate arguing with him but it just pushed a button I guess” he smiled “well come on. Grab your wine, we’ll watch a movie and you can get your bitching out then come morning you and Matt will be fine”

“This movie is so dumb!” Kelly laughed and you smacked his arm “Oh hush mr big scary fireman! I like cheesy horror movies” you and him had been on the couch for the last couple hours. His arm was over the back of the couch and all you had to do was turn to the side just slightly and you’d be in his lap.

You kept your eyes on the movie and put a hand on his thigh. When he didn’t say anything you slid it up but then he caught it “Babygirl, don’t play with fire” you cut your eyes up at him “But you are a firefighter after all”

He swallowed hard, eyes going from yours to your lips and back “Baby, I can’t. You’re Matt’s little sister” you nodded and turned on the couch, throwing a leg over his waist so you could effectively straddle his waist. He kept his hands down to the side and his eyes focused on a place on the wall over your head “Tiny, what are you doing?”

“Tell me you don’t want me like I want you” you spoke and his eyes lowered to yours “I want you but it’s so damn wrong” you shrugged “Why. You just agreed with me that I’m a grown woman, capable of my own decisions. I want you” he groaned, hands going to your hips “Tell me stop Tiny. Tell me you don’t want me” you shook your head “No”

He surged forward, lips crashing into yours. Your hands went to his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscles through his shirt. You rolled your hips down against his and he slipped his tongue past your lips, teasing the inside of your mouth. When you had to break away from each other to get air he took a deep breath “You want this?” you nodded so he gripped your hips and stood, causing a gasp to leave your lips and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist “Then I need more room” he spoke, lips finding yours as he walked towards his bedroom.

@desimarie12

#kelly severide x you #kelly severide x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago fire drabble #one chicago fanfic

53 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

Text

Keith presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and exhales deeply. He lets all the air trickle out of his lungs until his chest feels concave, until spots dance behind his closed eyelids, until his lips start to go numb. Then he lets go and lets the air get sucked back into him like a vacuum.

“One more try,” he whispers to himself, conscious of Lance sleeping — finally — beside him. “One, and then we move on.”

He swipes the touchpad on his computer to wake it back up, dragging the blinking curser over the rarely-used blue ‘10’ under the Google logo. The page loads, and loads, and loads, and finally spits out the next few results.

Most of them he’s already seen before. Dozens of times. BARGAIN BALLET TICKET SUBSCRIPTION, reads one link, CLICK HERE FOR 20% OFF YOUR FIRST MONTH. Another reads, Rush Ticket Prices — Buy Now!

He’s been there. Clicked that. Priced it out. Looked at the worst possible, next-to-the-washrooms, garbage seats. Nothing. Not a single ticket within their limited budget — or even close to it.

Completely out of the realm of possibility even if they hadn’t agreed on a price limit for their Christmas gifts.

He keeps scrolling down a few pages that all advertise the same thing — a disgustingly costly subscription here, bargain-but-not-really tickets there, more scammy resell ads than one would believe possible. Even, notably, a still-active link from 1997 that Keith peruses for clicks and does not actually count towards his one-more-try limit. (It even tries to accept his Paypal, which is crazy and means that someone updated the site to accept modern payment for a show that is no longer running. Keith is so amused by the pure audacity that he has to fight the urge to buy one. Wild thing, ADHD.)

Just as he’s about to give up and buy his boyfriend yet another plant this year, a link catches his attention. It’s the very last result on page 13, with no description, no punctuation, hell, hardly even a sentence of text. Nutcracker ticket sales, it reads, for a website called ‘FeuillesBrillantAcademie.org’.

Keith shrugs. Might as well. Not like anything else has been promising.

He clicks the link and immediately wishes he hadn’t. The ugliest website he’s ever seen literally assaults his eyes — a bright blue and a neon purple, clashing in the worst possible way. It takes at least four solid seconds for his eyes to unblur enough to recognise the screen in front of him as having words rather than a solid wall of Bright And Bad. Even then, he has to squint, glasses practically touching his eyeballs.

Feuilles Brillant Academy is pleased to present the final performance of the hard-working dancers this season, is what he can finally make out. The show begins at 7 p.m. on December 23rd, tickets for $20 per person. In-person payment not accepted. Please pay via e-transfer using the link below. Call out administrative office if there are any difficulties.

Keith stares at the page for as long as his eyes can handle, then he looks up at the ceiling. (Where, he may add, he can still see the screen perfectly, because the damn thing has been burnt onto his retinae. He will never mock Matt for his web design degree again. Well, probably.)

This seems…too good to be true.

It’s outrageously cheap, for one. Keith has been looking for literal days and the cheapest he’s managed to find is $50 per person, for bad rush tickets. $20 is bonkers. For two, this is a perfect time, and nearby, as well. And there are still tickets left. Somehow.

Something is amiss.

Keith’s first thought is that it’s a prank page. But the page is buried so deeply — page thirteen of Google. The hidden archives, basically. If this is someone’s prank, it’s garbage. His second thought is that the link is a virus, which, while possible, is still kind of unlikely for the same reasons. Why on Earth would someone post something nefarious so obscurely? It doesn’t make sense. This might be one of those rare times when something isn’t too good to be true, it’s just good.

Then again. Keith just got his laptop back from the last time he fucked around and well and truly Found Out.

Time to get a second opinion.

Despite the disgustingly late hour, the phone picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, stinky,” says Pidge. Keith can hear the smile in her voice as clearly as the explosions and gunfire of Call of Duty in the background.

“Asshole.”

“Turd for brains.”

“Skidmark.”

“Rotting splatter of parking lot vomit at three in the afternoon in Arizona during high summer.”

“…Pidge, that’s disgusting.”

She snickers. “I win.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith freezes as Lance stirs next to him, curling his arm around Keith’s bent leg and muttering something in Spanish too fast for him to understand. Keith smiles, tucking a stray curl back under his fluffy frog-eye hairband, lingering over the scar on his temple from a skateboarding accident when they were fifteen. “I need your help.”

“Well, obviously. You’re calling me at three thirty four in the morning. Usually you’re in bed by nine because secretly you look up to Adam and emulate his habits.”

Keith flushes. “I don’t remember ordering a psych analysis, fucker.”

“Consider it a bonus! Tell Auntie Pidge about your troubles.” He can practically see the face she makes immediately after, and snorts. “Ignore that. My mouth is not attached to my brain. Carry on.”

“I need you to check out a link,” Keith says, choosing to be merciful. “It’s pretty buried and obscure, but honestly I think it’s fine —”

“Yeah, last time you thought a link was fine you fucked your shit up so bad I had to download another virus to cancel it out. I’ve never had to do that before. You fucked your laptop up so bad I’d actually never seen that kind of damage before, Kogane. And I do this for a living.”

Keith pouts. “No, you commit cyber crimes for a living.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m an angel and have never gotten so much as a speeding ticket. I am a law abiding citizen. Send over the link.”

Switching his phone to rest between his ear and shoulder, Keith does. “I need to know if the link does what it says it does.”

Pidge hums. He can hear the ding of her laptop as his e-mail goes through, and then the sounds of her clicking as she inspects the website, running it through her various programs that Keith cannot fathom for the life of him.

“What did you say you were looking for, again?”

Keith closes his eyes and tips his head back, letting it thunk gently on the thin wall under the big window, in the corner of the apartment where they’ve shoved their bed. He lets his eyes go blurry, lets the stars they stuck on the ceiling before they did anything else turn into bright green dots. They’re real constellations. The two of them spent hours on them; Lance on Keith’s shoulders, tripping and shouting and laughing.

“I need tickets,” Keith says quietly. He turns his gaze slowly to Lance, who is sleeping soundly again, who has bags under his eyes, whose hands twitch every few seconds, who frowns deeply. “And we can’t — these are the only ones I could find. That I can even pretend to afford. I need it to be —” He swallows. “I need you to tell me they’re real.”

Pidge is quiet for a moment. The only sound is her breathing, her nail tapping slowly on the edge of her screen.

“The link is exactly what it says it is.”

Keith sits up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, man.”

Keith bites back a cheer so he doesn’t wake Lance up. Hell yeah! This is perfect! Exactly what they needed! Just — a little bit of luck. A little bit.

“Thank you, Pidge,” he gushes, hurrying to punch in his information. “Seriously.”

Pidge huffs fondly. “Okay, dweebus. Gross. Go be all affectionate somewhere else.” She pauses. “Take a picture when you tell him.”

Keith smiles. “I will.”

———

It takes every inch of Keith’s willpower to keep his mouth shut for a whole three weeks.

“I Know you are hiding something, Kogane,” Lance says while walking home from classes, while curling up into him as they watch TV, while cooking, while showering. “I see it in your face.”

“It’s nearly Christmas, you dweebus,” Keith says every time, and every time he softens it with an exaggerated kiss to Lance’s cheek, one to make him laugh despite himself and shove Keith’s face away. “Of course I’m hiding something.”

But it’s eating at them both. Lance’s blatant curiously makes it that much harder for Keith to keep things hidden, to stash the tickets between the pages of his corniest romance novel that Lance won’t touch with a ten foot pole. To wait, and wait, and wait, as they set up the three-foot high discounted Christmas tree and Lance changes their sheets to the flannel ones his mother gave them.

But the days pass. Finals come and go and so does the time. And finally, finally, it comes time to crawl onto the creaky mattress, knees on either side of Lance, nose kisses down his neck, and murmur, “We’ve got plans today.”

Lance groans. “No we do not.”

Keith smiles widely. He knows Lance can feel it, because he scowls harder, trying to hide his own fondness even as he melts into Keith’s affections.

“Yes, we do. I know. I planned them.”

“Well, then, un-plan them,” Lance grouches. He turns over so he’s facing Keith, now, trying hard to glare up at him, but late afternoon sunlight bleeds into his dark brown eyes and makes them shine golden, and they are as warm and bright as the rest of him, and his hands slide up Keith’s chest, over his shoulders, brushing through his hair, to rest on his cheeks. “Come nap with me.”

Keith turns his head to press a kiss to Lance’s palm, keeping his mouth there. Lance rolls his eyes, and can no longer hide his smile. “Later. I made plans. Dress up, I’m gonna pick us up some food for the way. We’ll leave in forty minutes.”

“Ugh.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, baby. I can see you eyeing the closet.”

“Shut up and get me a burrito.” He soothes the bite of his words by pulling Keith’s face closer to his, pressing their lips together softly. “Please.”

“Whatever you want.”

God, he’s whipped, and Lance knows it, because he grins, pleased, and pulls Keith even closer, kisses him stronger. It takes Keith a good five minutes to muster up the willpower to pull away, and Lance knows it, smirking.

He finally manages to yank himself away, stumbling backwards towards the kitchenette of their studio. Lance pouts at him.

“Menace,” Keith says sternly, deliberately turning away as he pulls on his boots and coat. He ignores his boyfriend’s grumbling and finally makes it out the door, hustling to their favourite bodega and hoping it isn’t too crowded.

Thirty-seven minutes later, burritos secured, Keith is shoving his frozen fingers around the door handle to jimmy it open. The bodega was indeed crowded and they are indeed late. The show starts in an hour. From what Keith remembers from Lance’s recitals — and he has been to many — people who are late are people who miss the show. The ballet does not fuck around with tardiness and disruptions; if you’re late, that’s tough shit for you. Plan better.

“You’re going to eat shit,” Lance says, amused, the fourth time Keith power walks right over black ice and nearly actually dies. “Slow down, babe.”

Keith does not.

“Can’t,” he huffs, keeping a half-eye on the pavement. A tourist walks into him, shoving him into Lance, who takes the opportunity to slide his hand into Keith’s back pocket and wink at him when his cheeks colour.

“Why can’t we slow down? Where are we going?”

“It’s like you don’t know what surprise means.”

“I do know. I also know that if I annoy anyone long enough they’ll snap so I’ll shut up.”

“Nah. I like it when you talk.”

He’d meant it as somewhat of a comeback, as a jab back to Lance’s teasing. But suddenly Lance stops, spine going rigid, something like shock flirting across his face for half a millisecond before he blinks it away and moves again. It happens so fast that Keith would almost be convinced he’d imagined it, except Lance’s cheeks are crimson.

Keith smiles. “Lance.”

“Shut up.”

“Babydoll.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m barely sayin’ anything, baby.”

“You are so fuckin — gay, you know that? God. Who fuckin — who says shit like that? Who on this Earth?”

Keith laughs, bending down to kiss right below Lance’s ear, to feel his flushed skin warm to frozen tip of his nose.

“You are so easily flattered.”

“Easily flatter this dick. How about that. Fuckin. Jerk.”

He lets Lance grouch at him, pleased and embarrassed about it, as he pulls them along the overcrowded streets. He checks his watch. Fifteen minutes ‘til the show starts, thirteen minutes ‘til they get there. Hopefully.

“Are we almost there? It’s cold and these shoes are pinchy.”

“I told you to wear comfortable shoes!”

“You told me to dress up! I can do one of those things, Akira!”

At the seven minute mark Keith starts running. Lance, surprisingly, doesn’t complain — a grin pulls at his sharp features, actually, and he wraps their hands together and runs faster, despite not knowing where they’re going. Every time they bump into someone in a suit he laughs. He laughs harder when they curse at him. Keith has to fight to keep his head in the game, to keep running, to not stop where he’s standing and watch Lance laugh for hours and hours and hours. It’s been too long.

He nearly pulls Lance’s arm out of his socket when he stops then abruptly, shouting “Here! Here! We’re here!” and pulling him inside a well-kept brownstone.

“Where’s…here?” Lance wonders, taking in the well-salted walkway and pretty red-and-green decorations all over the aged brick.

Keith doesn’t answer. “Close your eyes.”

Lance narrows his eyes. Keith makes his expression as wide and pleading as possible, and in seconds Lance caves, much to Keith’s satisfaction.

“You’re a pain in my neck.”

Keith kisses him quickly and chastely. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let me walk into anything.”

Satisfied that Lance won’t peek, Keith shuffles them over to the box office, holding out their tickets. The stewardess smiles at him, scanning them, eyes twinkling at Keith wordless plea for her to keep the secret, and gestures towards a grand set of doors.

“Up the stairs, to your left, seat and row on your ticket,” she murmurs. “Enjoy the show.”

Keith nods his thanks and rushes them off.

“This sounds very fancy,” Lance observes as their shoes click on the — literally marble, how the hell were these tickets $20 — floors. “Dangerously so.”

Keith shrugs. “Perhaps.”

“…Not to be. A bummer. But please tell me you remembered our budget, Keith.”

“I did, Lance. I swear.”

Lance relaxes into him, and Keith realises for the first time how tense he was. He winces to himself. He probably could have made things a tad less stressful and still kept the surprise. He’ll remember that for next year.

“Okay, good. I trust you.”

They barely make it to their seats in time. Keith’s butt barely makes contact with the cushioned chair before the lights dim and the orchestra starts tuning, the rest of the audience lapsing into almost immediate silence.

Lance inhales sharply. “Keith…?”

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Lance does, and they’re wide, and his mouth drops open, slightly, and for a moment he just stares, frozen, at the stage and the lights and the set, the familiar set, as the dim light casts shadows onto his face. The orchestra’s tuning note reaches its satisfying peak, harmonizing as one sound, and Keith’s full attention is on the lines of Lance’s face, the set of his jaw, the curves of his cheekbones.

“Merry Christmas,” he says quietly.

Before he can say anything else, before Lance can say anything else, the familiar sound of pointe shoes tapping delicately across the stage steals Keith’s attention. He turns his eyes to the stage, watching the dancers strut on the stage, and — stops.

He leans forward, squinting.

What?

Keith is…very familiar with the Nutcracker. He’s grown up alongside Lance’s family since he was eight years old. He’s been to more recitals than he can count. He’s been dragged to more performances than he can ever remember. Lance has lived and breathed and loved ballet his whole damn life, for the entire time Keith has known him, and that love bled well outside of the studio, has lasted even after he aged out of the program last year. Keith knows how the Nutcracker begins, and nothing about the program said this one was supposed to be any different.

Half of the dancers walking onstage are significantly shorter than they should be.

Now he knows damn well that there are kids in the Nutcracker. The main character is a kid. That’s the whole deal.

But there is not one adult on that stage right now. Hell, not even a teenager.

Keith looks down at the ticket — Feuilles Brillant Academy. He looks back at the stage. He looks at the other audience members — lots and lots of people with camcorders. And other small children.

Keith sinks into his chair, head in his hands.

His dumb ass bough a ticket to a children’s ballet recital.

Lord above.

“Lance, I am so sorry,” he whispers, “I was so caught up in the ticket being in budget I didn’t bother actually, like, looking deeper into things, this is totally — Lance?”

Keith leans forward in alarm, hands immediately falling on Lance’s knee, on his back. His shoulders shake and his hands are pressed to his eyes.

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry,” Keith says desperately, embarrassment replaced with panic. Everything feels like it’s crashing down around him, as dramatic as that is. He’d been so excited for this. Now it’s a whole mess. “I didn’t mean to — fuck things up, shit, we can leave.”

Lance shakes his head. Blindly, he reaches over the grasps Keith’s hand, holding tightly. His own hand is damp from his tears.

“No, no, it’s — perfect,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “I —”

His chin trembles, and more tears spill over his cheeks. As the music swells along to the climax of the first dance, Lance lifts the armrest separating their seats, half crawling over Keith until his head is tucked in the crook of Keith’s neck, arms folded between their chests, hands clutching at the fabric of his sweater. His voice is wet with tears and soaked in an emotion Keith can’t quite name, an almost — relief.

“It’s been so long. I didn’t want to — I thought I wouldn’t be able to do this again. I wouldn’t let myself think about it.”

Keith lets a huge, relieved exhale, sagging forward. He wraps himself more comfortably around Lance’s frame, squeezing him back, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple.

Growing up has been…hard. For the both of them.

They’d been told by everyone who knew them that they were being stupid and reckless. Keith has been promised that they won’t last more than two years by almost every grownup he’s ever known. Even his own brother had sighed his trepidation when Keith told him, stubborn and bold-faced, that he was moving in with Lance, that they were going to start their lives together the second they pulled off their caps and gowns, that they were ready for the next step. That they were eighteen and ready to face the world.

“Sacrifices,” Shiro had warned, “are going to be half your life now. It’s not that I think you can’t, Keith. I just. There’s a reason people don’t move in with their highschool sweetheart they summer after they graduate. Katy Perry wrote a whole song about it. It’s a banger.”

Keith hates it when his brother is right, and this time he was right about so many things in consecutive order. Living on your own is hard. Learning to live with someone else is harder. Doing it in a city far away from home, while balancing school and work and rent and groceries, is the hardest.

“I miss dance,” Lance croaks, and Keith closes his eyes and breathes deeply and holds Lance tighter.

He knows Lance misses dance. He knows that he hasn’t so much as listened to a ballet since they moved to New York, unless it’s in the dead of night, and he thinks Keith is asleep, and he puts in his headphones and moves their furniture as silently as he can to the edges of their tiny ass studio apartment and laces up his falling-to-pieces pointe shoes and dances like the very act of it is tearing him apart, and cries the whole time. And then stashes his shoes in the bottom of his gym bag and crawls back into bed and pretends again in the morning that he left his pointes back in Arizona. And Keith looks away and lets him because school is already twenty thousand a year and in no shape or form can they afford that and money to rent a studio.

But Keith can give him this. For a little bit, maybe, even if it’s little kids with handmade costumes pirouetting across a stage.

“I know, bluebell.”

Lance exhales, shaky, breath ghosting across Keith’s collarbones, and finally turns back towards the stage, keeping tucked under Keith’s chin. The kids dancing as the Snow Queen’s ladies-in-waiting are — three years old, maybe. At most four. They keep twirling right into each other like clumsy little bumblebees. It’s maybe the cutest thing Keith has ever seen in his entire life, and what’s better is the tiny smile that graces Lance’s face, despite the tears, growing bigger every time one of them wobbles back up to their feet and prances on, oblivious.

They watch the rest of the play in silence, Lance hands entwining with his sometime around the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy and holding fast. They stand and clap as loudly as the gathered parents, louder even, at curtain call, as each kid jumps and twirls across the stage to thrown roses and cheering. It’s adorable.

They’re among the first to walk out, because the majority of the crowd surges towards backstage to collect their kid, so the walk is blessedly unrushed. They take their time, observing the pictures of grinning ballerinas that line the walls and numerous awards on endless shelves. Keith is filled with a deep and strong longing, a strange feeling of coming home — years of waiting on plastic chairs for Lance to finish solo practice when they were thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Of taking his boots off at the door and quietly sneaking in the back of the studio, ducking away from other dancers’ boring stares, to watch Lance shine under the studio lights, reflected a thousand times by mirrored walls. Of the smell of lemon cleaner and polished hardwood floors and satin.

He notices a poster on the wall, among dozens of drawings and pictures of intricate sets, and freezes.

“Lance,” he says, tilting his head, “look.”

At the end of a hallway, right next to a door, is a hand-painted banner, reading: WE’LL MISS YOU, MISS RAULA! HAPPY RETIREMENT!

He squeezes Lance’s hand. “I bet they’re looking for a replacement.”

Lance stares at the poster for a long time. “You think?”

“I think it wouldn’t hurt to shoot them an e-mail.”

Smiling, Lance stops them in the hallway, puts his hands on Keith’s shoulders, stands on his tiptoes, and kisses him, long and sweet and loving.

“I’m already in a pretty tight spot now,” he murmurs, still standing so close to Keith and smelling so sweet that he has trouble focusing on his words, “‘cause this is already kind of the best Christmas gift ever. If that ends up being true I’m never topping you again.”

Keith laughs, suddenly, not expecting the turn, and Lance grins, pulling Keith down to him and kissing him again. It’s less of a kiss and more of a press of smiles, a clack of teeth, a shared laugh.

“I love you, Lance. Merry Christmas. I will be the Gift Giving King forever.”

“Shut up, goober.” He lifts Keith’s arm, tucking himself under it as they walk back out into the snowy December night. “I love you too.”

———

based on this post (third slide)

290 notes · View notes

zecnasy · 1 year ago

Text

He accumulated all his sufferings from season 1 to 3 and transferred them to his muscle mass 😩

no i swear im not thirsty for him and his arms

#charlie had bills to pay #i want those biceps to crush my windpipe like a nutcracker #daredevil #matt murdock

388 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 1 year ago

Text

christmas bingo masterlist

day 1 : mulled wine (Jason Todd x reader)

day 2 : christmas party (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

day 3: christmas market (TASM!Peter x reader)

day 4: lights (Matt Murdock x reader)

day 5: nutcracker (Dick Grayson x reader)

day 6 : decorating (Nikolai Lantsov x reader)

day 7 : snow fight (Matt Murdock x reader)

day 8 : dressing up (Nikolai Lantsov x reader)

day 9 : snow (Nikolai Lantsov x reader)

day 10: scarf (Dick Grayson x reader)

day 11 : reindeer (Nikolai Lantsov x reader)

day 12 : gifts (Dick Grayson x reader)

day 13 : elf (Dick Grayson x reader)

day 14: cold weather (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

day 15 : mistletoe (Jason Todd x reader)

day 16: Scrooge (Jason Todd x reader)

day 17 : gift shopping (Morpheus x reader)

day 18 : cookies (Jason Todd x reader)

day 19 : ice skating (Nikolai Lantsov x reader high school AU)

day 20: snow (Jason Todd x reader)

day 21: blanket (Nikolai Lantsov x reader)

day 22: movies (Jason Todd x reader)

day 23 : midnight kiss (Damian Wayne x reader)

day 24 : christmas market (Jason Todd x reader)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

#christmas #christmas bingo #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #matt murdock x reader

64 notes · View notes

babygirlmurdock · 1 year ago

Text

Dating Matt Murdock during the Holidays would be like this:

• Attending midnight mass with him, if you’re religious or not, he asked you once early on and now its your little tradition

• Doing your Christmas Eve traditions (for me, I’m Italian so we do the feast of the 7 (or more) fishes)

• Baking together and gifting it to the neighbors

• Matt being super cheeky about your gift because he is just so excited for you to open it and he will not give you a single hint

• You collaborating with Foggy & Karen to get Matt something extra special

• Even collabing with Melvin to get him new billy clubs because the paint is chipping on his

• Describing the Christmas Tree in Rockafeller Center to him & Saks on 5th’s light show

• Matt is a sucker for the Nutcracker. He loves the soundtrack so much

Feel free to reblog with any more tidbits ❤️

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!

#matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fanfic

41 notes · View notes

sariahgonzales626 · 3 months ago

Text

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!!!!!!

Sorry for not posting a lot this year... This years just been very busy for me but I hope everyone is having a wonderful time and I hope everyone has a great new year's.

#matt the nutcracker #the nutcracker and the lost magic #the nutcracker #sara stahlbaum #nutcracker season #new year #new year 2025

13 notes · View notes

highflyartist · 2 years ago

Text

Theory Time

So you guys know that I'm a bit crazy when it comes to @sariahgonzales626 's The Nutcracker and the Lost Magic, but over the course of looking at their amazing art, one thing stuck out to me?

How the hell did Matt get a monster form included with his already cursed nutcracker form?

For this, I had to review each drawing to make sure it was sorta to kinda accurate and here's what I came up with:

Matt probably had trauma when he was a child to adult and all of that trauma pented up to the fact where he's overprotective of Sara and doesn't want her to end up like him or just die like his parents did.

The monster form is triggered when Matt has a traumatic moment/memory or nightmare so maybe the mouse king gave him the monster form because he could sense the arrogance and trauma within his heart; either that or the mouse king wanted him to be more of a freak. Idk if it's true-

And that is my theory!

#nutcracker #the nutcracker #the nutcracker and the lost magic #matt drosselmeyer #sara stahlbaum #the mouse king #theory #story theory #((idk if its true

9 notes · View notes

posttexasstressdisorder · 4 months ago

Text

Wednesday, 12-11-24, 8am Pacific

A groggy good mornin' everyone, Mr. Baggins back with our Morning Coffee Music. Let's listen to Our Favorite Canadian Kook, Glenn Gould, playing Preludes and Fugues Nos. 7 and 8 of Book I of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier, while I nurse this first cup and attempt consciousness. Note: due to the inane way these videos are set up, instead of the prelude and fugue together as one video, each has its own video. SO...in order not to completely decimate the room left for other goodies, we'll be hearing TWO Preludes and Fugues a day, which will be four videos. Like I said, inane. Here's Glenn.

youtube

I have to admit I love that picture of him. lulz. Now let's hear the early String Quartet without number of Sir Arthur Bliss, the one written pre-WWI. it is very reminiscent of the Debussy and Ravel quartets. Here is the String Quartet in A Major of Sir Arthur Bliss, played by The Maggini Quartet. I bought this as soon as I heard it on KMFA back in 2002-03!

youtube

Let's follow that up with a Mozart Symphony, his Symphony No. 38 in D Major, the "Prague" Symphony, K.504. Lenny and The Vienna play for us, from a 1986 DG recording.

youtube

We have our third Ballade by Chopin this morning, and Horowitz DEFINITELY recorded this one. More than once! Here is his 1951 RCA recording. The Ballade No. 3 in A-flat Major, Op. 47, played by Vladimir Horowitz.

youtube

Now let's hear Fritz and The Band in their 1960 RCA Living Stereo recording of Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherezade. This is from a vinyl rip...it has that presence that only a physical stylus going through a physical groove can give!

youtube

As an encore, here is part of a television broadcast on Nov. 18, 1953, of Tchaikovsky's "Waltz of the Flowers" from The Nutcracker. Harp man be gettin' down in that introduction!

And here is one more beautiful little song to bring our Morning Coffee Music to a close, Morten Lauridsen's "Dirait on". We hear The Chamber Choir of Europe, and our pianist is the composer, Morten Lauridsen. The Conductor is Nicol Matt.

youtube

That's all the space we have for Morning Coffee Music on this Wednesday. I do hope you've enjoyed the selections this morning, and possibly heard something new to your ear. Mr. Baggins signing off for now, I'll return at 2pm Pacific with your Afternoon Stack of Classic Wax!

Until then, be kind, babies, be kind.

Baggins out.

#radio free tumblr #Youtube

6 notes · View notes

ablatheringblatherskite · 2 years ago

Text

IMPORTANT:

This is a family friendly/PG/mostly SFW (mostly because I occasionally reblog stuff with violence/gore, swearing, and intense whump lol) blog, so please keep that in mind when interacting! Any NSFW interactions will be blocked.

I am also an unashamed Christian!

Things to know about me:

FIRST THINGS FIRST, I am a proud member of the Rogue Squadron, so jot that down >:)))

(basically, we like to spam our friends for fun. so you might see me spamming the replies and even reblogging several posts in a row)

Second, I write fanfics :))) I have fics for Hamilton, Star Wars, ATLA, Marvel, Wednesday, the Phantom of the Opera, Les Misérables, and One Piece. Drop by if you want to HERE!

Genres I write: Fluff, friendship, healing, hurt/comfort, whump, angst, romance

and here's my YouTube where I post my edits!

And my Artfight account HERE!

I also have RP BLOGS!

@vicomte-raoul-de-chagny

@comte-philippe-de-chagny

Here's things I enjoy:

Writing, Musicals, Books, good wholesome comedy, chocolate, pretty gifsets, editing videos, etc.!

Things I'm posting a lot about ATM:

One Piece, The Phantom of the Opera, Epic: The Musical, musicals in general, Star Wars, writing related stuff, random stuff I find funny, and Christian things.

And Things I like!:

The Phantom of the Opera, Epic: The Musical, One Piece, HTTYD (including all the series and the third movie), Spider-Man (personal fave are the TASM and Spiderverse movies), The Chronicles of Narnia, Star Wars (excluding sequel trilogy sorry), Avatar: The Last Airbender, Daredevil, Les Misérables, Batfam (Wayne Family Adventures!), Wednesday, the Addams Family, His Dark Materials (the show), Manifest, My Adventures with Superman, Over The Garden Wall, NBC'S Timeless, Wings of Fire, The Hobbit, Artemis Fowl, Ducktales (2017), Hamilton, Newsies, Anastasia, Lego: Ninjago, TMNT (2012), Harry Potter, Studio C, Jk! Studios, their Freelancers series, and more that I cannot remember right now!

Where I am considering some of these fandoms:

I am a Hadley!Raoul, Book!Raoul—and Raoul de Chagny in general—defender, and a Raoulstine shipper (BUT I love the Phantom/Erik and do not dislike him by any means 🥺), and I don't really like Love Never Dies much. I'm a Tyler Galpin apologist but NOT an Xavier Thorpe hater. I also love the Star Wars original trilogy and the prequel trilogy, but not really the sequels. I don't hate the third HTTYD movie and I love all the HTTYD series. My favorite Spider-Man movies are the TASM ones, and Andrew Garfield is my fav Spider-Man/Peter Parker. Yes I love both Narnia and His Dark Materials.

Ships I love:

Hiccstrid (HTTYD), Raoulstine (Phantom of the Opera), Odypen (Epic the Musical), Zekaela (Manifest), Silverparry (His Dark Materials), Wyler/Weyler (Wednesday), Petroclair (Wednesday), Clois (My Adventures With Superman), Peter and Gwen (TASM), Jaya (Ninjago), Lyatt (Timeless), Gomez and Morticia (The Addams Family)

Blorbos:

Raoul de Chagny, Roronoa Zoro, Sanji, Telemachus of Ithaca, Peter Parker, Matt Murdock, Tyler Galpin

YouTubers I watch:

Andrew Burriss, DanTDM, The Merrell Twins, Aaron Burriss, Moriah Elizabeth, and Sam Tabor

Some other people I'm a fan of:

Hadley Fraser, Ramin Karimloo, Andrew Garfield, Charlie Cox, The entire cast of Jk! Studios (aka the OG Studio C cast), David Tennant, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Jeremy Jordan

Fic Masterposts

Phantom of the Opera

Hamilton: An American Musical

Star Wars

Wednesday

Chrumblr Whumblr 2024

Whumpuary 2025

Doctor Blatherskite

More lists to come!

Here's some fics I have in progress!

MY DEAR NUTCRACKER (Phantom of the Opera)

WOE IS WE (Wednesday)

My sideblogs:

@vicomte-raoul-de-chagny (Raoul de Chagny RP blog)

@comte-philippe-de-chagny (Philippe de Chagny RP blog)

@whumpsandwhimpers (Whump blog)

@bookworms-and-bluestockings (Book blog with friends)

@the-other-roronoa (One Piece OC RP blog)

POTO RP BLOGS MASTERLIST HERE!

(rogue squadron banner by @mrgartist! and Raoul de Chagny defense squad GIFs made by @faded-florals!!)

Personal tags: #asterrisks, #longer asterrisks, #favorite asterrisks, #asterrisks in the tagses, #my writings, #aster's writing journey, #my editses, aster's art, #aster's inbox, #was tagged, #by my friend, #my photography!

Other tags: #I like the funnies, #me, #astercore, #note to aster, #note to little aster

#writer problems, #that writer's life, #writing/literature, #writing references, #writing prompts, #fanfic writing references, #fanfic prompts,

#whump writing, #whump writing references, whump, whump art, whump prompts, whump writings/whump stories

#for future reference, #adulting, #parenting, #children, #important, #awareness, #educational

#i need to add this to my commonplace book, #to watch, #video posts, #audio posts

#fic recs, #to read, #tumblr writings (original stories), #tumblr fics (fanfics on Tumblr), #tumblr stories (real life stories), #comics

#classic Tumblr, #wholesome, #little wonders, #ow my hubris, #SORRY SIMPING HOURS

My Archive

Notifs Dashboard

Crushes

What You Missed

For You

#ao3 author #ao3 writer #fanfiction writer #asterrisks #my writings #my editses #pinned post

34 notes · View notes