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neutron-stars-collision · 3 months ago

Text

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 8 - London Bridge Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 7 Summary: With preparations for the next ballet of the season at all time high, it seems like only Neil is capable of calming you down. With whatever means necessary. After all, that's what friends are for. Warnings: Swearing, explicit language, implied sexual content. Author's Notes: Well, hello. As you might've seen from my posts, this one is early and only 3/4 of what I have outlined but seeing as it already took near two months, I figured I might as well split this here. It's 10k so not bad either ✨ This way I'll be stressing less about how long it's taking me to write this. This is the first chapter of the so-called Nutcracker season, so I thought I might drop some reference videos again in case y'all wanted to see what the sequences I refer to look like. And so that the two hours of research aren't entirely wasted lol Anyways, here's Waltz of the Snowflakes and Waltz of the Flowers. Enjoy the extra education 💕 Thank you for reading and being patient as I try to wrestle my brain into obedience 💖 Let me know what you think? Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added).

For someone who usually hated the mere mention of the word routine and all that it entailed, you took a worrying amount of joy in having it established on Wednesdays. There was something to be cherished in the cold autumn breeze as you hurried down the streets, knowing that soon you could talk to him like you had been itching to since you had parted. The countless texts and occasional phone calls in between hardly mattered in that case. Not because they were not good enough at sustaining the connection, but rather because while they kept you sane, they could never replace the real thing.

The exact way Neil’s eyes shone in the sharp light of the fluorescents whenever you said something funny or scandalous. Or the curve of his smile, breaching that thin line between mere joy and smugness at being the sole object of your attention and desire. Or perhaps the different topics you cycled through within the twenty-minute-long window the shared commute allowed you. There was hardly reason nor logic to them, but every Wednesday morning, as you approached the St. John’s Wood station, you would find yourself increasingly curious about what this day would entail. What you would talk about. What you would be able to learn about him.

No matter the minutes spent wondering and debating, you could never anticipate the conversation in its entirety.

By now, you were a pro at finding Neil the moment you stepped aboard the train. Most times you would spot him before he knew the train had stopped at your station. He would raise his pretty blond head and meet your gaze, lighting up instantly and getting rid of any apprehension you could still hold over being so openly into him.

Today was not any different in that regard. Once you had successfully located him (head bowed over a book in his lap, the blonde hair tousled by the wind raging outside), you crossed the space despite the sudden movement of the carriage and unceremoniously dropped to the seat next to him with a greeting ready on your tongue:

“Hey, you” your grin widened as Neil’s head swivelled in your direction with worrying speed.

You stared as he closed the book without bothering to mark the page, letting his gaze trace its customary path over your face and body. It was always like this. His eyes would wander over your features with detailed focus, almost as if expecting something to have changed. The moment made you pause, instantly concerned whether there could be something amiss, but the uncertainty vanished the second Neil’s lips widened into a bright grin. The courage to ask what it all meant was nowhere to be found yet. If ever.

“Morning, sunshine” offering you an overeager wink, he dropped the forgotten book in the bag and focused on you.

That sort of unspoken declaration still stroked your ego like nothing else. And you were unwilling to understand why that could be.

“If there’s anyone worthy of the ‘sunshine’ title, it’s you, my dear” stifling a yawn, you reached out to further ruffle his hair, enjoying the feel of his soft locks between your fingers. If the move had an ulterior motive (it did), you did not let it show and instead chose to relish in the myriads of feelings passing through Neil’s face. Namely affection, arousal and hunger, “What with all that hair and a dazzling smile,” before you could lose the feeble illusion of control, you dropped your hand back on your lap and met his questioning look with a blank smile.

Moments like this were best not discussed. And least of all on public transport. Despite it being over a week since your late Friday night commute and the decisions it had solidified, you were yet to make any substantial changes to your relationship. You were yet to ask him for another memorable night or a fleeting moment in a private place. For now, endless flirting, occasional sexting and increasingly courageous touches had to do. But, as always, they were not discussed. They simply happened. By an accident, of course.

“The hair is dyed” arching his eyebrow at your blatant misbehaviour, Neil offered the comment flatly.

Well, duh.

“Yeah, I know. You need to give me your hairdresser’s details because they’re doing a splendid job” barely resisting the urge to bury your fingers in his hair again, you clasped your hands together and chose to stare down the impertinent woman, shooting you both dirty looks across the carriage.

Only once she looked away, visibly flustered, you could glance at Neil again. As always, you found his gaze firmly trained on you. As if looking away was not an option.

“I’ll pass on the praise” shrugging, Neil allowed his eyes to wander, tracing invisible paths down the curve of your neck and further down, forcing your blush out of hiding whether you wanted or not.

Swallowing past the heat rising in your face, you uncrossed your legs and forced your brain to behave. That would not do. Being eternally flustered was not a state you were used to or even wanted to be. But increasingly, it was a state you were finding yourself in almost daily. Something had to be done about it. And fast.

Chancing a cheeky look at Neil, you allowed your mouth to run along and do its own thing. That always worked.

“You should. Who knows, maybe they, too, have a praise kink” as soon as the words were out, you knew it was the right call.

The leverage to give you the upper hand and render Neil speechless. Even more so that he was well aware you were right. The realization was written plain on his face, in the slack jaw and wide eyes, struck dumb by your boldness. Checkmate.

“Too? Are you insinuating something?” leaning forward and into your personal space, Neil’s voice dropped a notch.

The hastily put-up mask of indifference did nothing to deter you. You knew you were right. His reaction to the things you said that Friday night was something you thought of every day. Particularly the undoubted effects your bold use of ‘good boy’ had on Neil. His gasps, the groans of pleasure, and then-

“Wouldn’t dare to” mirroring his position, you leaned further into his space until all that was left was a few mere centimetres between you, easy to breach should you want to, “Except that we both know it’s true,” you met his gaze with an unyielding smile of your own, beckoning Neil to argue.

You could see the defiance in his blue eyes, the desire to throw you off the haunch by all means necessary. But you could also find defeat there, the embarrassment stemming from the simple fact that Neil knew he had already lost. You were right. As always.

Feeling the pride of victory surge through your veins, you opened your mouth to deliver the final strike before Neil closed it with a finger against your lips. The sudden touch burned like a hot poker, inciting thousands of thoughts you would rather not entertain. Not now, at least.

“Don’t” from the command in his voice, you could ascertain that Neil knew where it was all heading. He could tell that the words on your tongue were those two that had proved his weakness before, “Not here,” the unspoken plea finishing the speech did not go unnoticed.

It was strengthened by the silent resolution in his eyes as Neil lifted his finger from your mouth and let his fingers carefully caress your chin, angling your face for a kiss that would not come. Not here, as he said. Not yet.

“Very well. Next time,” as soon as the reply fell in the space between you, Neil nodded, solidifying a promise that had not quite been voiced but was understood by the both of you, “Soon, I think,” the addition was only a formality.

You both knew it would have to be soon. As if reminded of your surroundings, Neil dropped his hand from your face and shot you a smirk. Soon, indeed. Before your brain could run away with thousands of scenarios concerning that second rendezvous and all that you wanted to do to Neil when given the chance, he spoke again, swiftly changing the subject:

“What’s your stress level, Cupid?” it was easy to discern that it was a tactical move on his side, an easy way to move the conversation to a safer zone that would not make either or both of you misbehave in public.

But still, the question made the wave of affection spread over your chest, mostly because he cared enough to ask and wanted to hear the answer. And you really wanted to talk to someone about the sleepless nights and heart palpitations growing in frequency the closer it got to the audition day.

“Through the fucking roof,” sighing against the anxiety levels steadily building up in your system, you levelled Neil with a tired look, “I’ve less than a week left” by now, the countdown felt almost like minutes left till your scheduled audience on the death row.

Or something equally dramatic. From the seriousness reflected at you in Neil’s eyes, you knew he was all too aware of it.

“I know” he reached out to squeeze your arm comfortingly and asked, “Do you have the choreography all figured out?”

The question only increased the affection you could barely contain. Ignoring the sudden desire to snuggle up to Neil like a cat to attempt to show even an ounce of your current feelings, you chose to focus on the more pressing issues. Namely, the fear coursing through your veins and talking to the only person who seemed to understand it all.

“I think?” stifling another heavy sigh, you leaned back in the chair to stare at the Jubilee line map above the window opposite “I mean that’s basically the plan today. I’m going to the studio to practice every single variation till I can’t tell my Clara from the Snow Queen” this time a pained groan was unavoidable.

As much as you were looking forward to losing yourself in dancing for the whole day, all that followed was too terrifying to name. Yet, with every word spoken on the topic, you could hardly keep the fears at bay. They multiplied and strengthened till you could feel your heart rate rise, the pulse thundering in your ears. There was so much to dread, so many unknowns. So much that you could not foresee and so much that could go wrong. Too much.

“I’m not sure I know what that means, but I know that you’ve got this” through the rising panic, you registered Neil’s reassurance but could barely process it.

The spiral must have shown on your face because the next thing you felt was his careful touch, gentle fingers running over your forearm to take your hand in his and squeeze it. Without thinking, you let Neil entangle your fingers loosely and glanced at him, judging his mood. Finding nothing but concern and steadfast belief in your abilities, you turned away again, focusing on voicing what had to be said. Who knew when would be the next time you would have a willing listener available?

“Yeah, well, I’m not convinced,” swallowing hard past the doubt and worries that Neil did not want to hear any of your bullshit, you focused on the steady caress of his thumb running over your knuckles, soothing the nerves and reminding you of his presence. It had to be enough, “Sometimes I just… Do you know that feeling when you want something very badly, but you’re also almost certain that if you do get it, then it will be taken from you?” the question came out in a rush, words melting together into one anxious mess but the understanding in Neil’s gaze kept you going “I want to do well, but I’m also terrified of what might happen if I do succeed” getting the words out after days of rotating them in your head felt almost like a relief, offering you a chance to take a deeper breath. Even if they still seemed true, accurate, “So much so that sometimes I wonder whether I should just give up. Stop trying” finishing the tirade with an exhausted sigh seemed like an apt conclusion as you turned your head back to Neil, both dreading and needing to see his reaction.

Those were some of the things you had never told anyone else. The thoughts that kept you awake during many lonely nights and those that pushed you to the limits of what was supposed to be bearable. The drive behind every anxious thought and inexplicable fear. That which none of your friends needed or wanted to hear.

No one except for Neil, that is.

If the understanding on his face was anything to go by, he wanted to listen. His hand kept the reassuring hold over yours, thumb tracing circles over your knuckles. This one time, being seen did not hurt quite so much. Maybe if Neil could peer inside your heart and soul, he would be able to make sense of it all when you could not.

“But isn’t the fear of fucking up stronger than that of having succeeded?” after a beat, Neil’s question fell with a heightened impact upon the noise from the departed station fading into the background.

Wasn’t that the clue of it all?

“I don’t know” with no answer but another pained sigh, you allowed your head to rest against Neil’s shoulder. Only then, with the pleasant warmth of his shoulder beneath your cheek and the faint certainty that you could feel him nuzzle your temple, could you speak words into existence with only Neil as your witness, “I wish I had a way of knowing what’s destined for me” once you started talking, it was difficult to stop, unburdening your heart word after word, with no fear of judgement to be found “Like a horoscope but one that truly works” feeling the itch of frustration beneath your skin, you closed your eyes to attempt anchoring in the moment.

Even if only for a second. A second spent soaking up Neil’s warmth and his solid presence. A second spent not losing your mind. For a change.

“I’m pretty sure you’d go mad if you knew what fate has in store for you” feeling Neil’s steady gaze fixed on your face, you looked up in time to see the intent behind his words there. A subtle confirmation of the fact that he knew what he was saying was true and that you knew it, too. Even if you would never admit as much, “I know I would,” shrugging lightly not to disturb you from where you still had your chin propped on his shoulder, Neil cracked a small smile.

As if willing you to see where he was going with this. And you did know. It was only that sometimes (or rather most of the time) logic was difficult to come by. In those moments, ruled by fear and worry, all you craved was certainty. A knowledge of what the future held and what steps you needed to take to abstain from fucking it all up. But that was not something you could have. And that, in turn, was fucking you up. It was embarrassing and relieving to know that Neil understood without you having the words to express it all.

That he just knew. Like he knew everything, it seemed.

“I would too, but maybe insanity is better than whatever this is” ignoring the strange thoughts, which could lead you into the temptation, you raised your head from his shoulder and offered a tired shrug.

It was better that way. Safer.

“The tragedy known as everyday life?” his mouth quirked into a familiar grin, its traces already warming up your body and soul.

It was increasingly harder to look away from him in those moments. In those pauses between words, when his gaze was all you could focus on. When his blue eyes offered solace from fears. When it seemed like Neil did not mind being your anchor, the one thing keeping you on the verge of sanity.

When all you truly wanted to do was to press your lips to his and keep kissing him until everything else faded. Until there was nothing that could scare you.

Well, maybe, except for-

“Quite” you shook your head lightly, praying to all deities the ridiculous thoughts would disperse. Stuck in a daze, you looked outside as the PA crackled to life, announcing Southwark as the next station. Without a reason you could name, your heart missed a beat. It was time to go, “Fuck, I should get up. I don’t want to leave you” the honesty was easy to voice once you were arrested by his blue gaze, having made the mistake of glancing back at Neil.

You could tell he would need no convincing about the truthfulness of your admission. Neil’s soft smile, undoubtedly influenced by what must have been a particularly pathetic look on your face, only strengthened the conviction. He squeezed your hand, remaining securely clasped in his, and nudged your shoulder with his:

“Nutcrackers await you, Cupid” the simplicity of that reassurance was enough to make you grin, especially since you could tell Neil had not yet done his reading on the ballet.

With a remorseful sigh, you rose from the seat, letting go of his hand. Your eyes did not yet get the memo, as they stayed glued to his face, roaming over the features you now knew almost as well as your own. Within his gaze, you found the missing inspiration and the courage to ask what you wanted.

“Actually… Would you want to come up to the studio tomorrow evening? To provide feedback and butter me up?” you bated your eyelashes to complete the look, fully aware it was unnecessary.

Neil never needed the vapid flirting. He only seemed to need to know you meant what you said. And this time, there was no space for doubt.

“I’d love to” mirroring your manic grin, Neil captured your hand between his palms and brushed his fingers over your knuckles in a move that was almost reverent.

It was dangerous, too. You blinked against the haze in your eyes and tugged your hand free from the loose grasp. With the lights of Southwark creeping into the carriage, you knew it was time to go. Lest stupidity persisted.

***

Inviting Neil to the studio to watch your final touches to the choreography before the Friday audition seemed like a good idea when you said it. But over 24 hours later, waiting for the man himself to arrive and pacing up and down Hatfields with increasingly torrential thoughts, you began to wonder whether it was all a mistake. An overindulgence. Because what if Neil saw what you had prepared and thought it just as lacklustre as you worried it was?

For whatever reason, sharing this crucial part of your life with him was hard. It was a daily uphill battle, torn between the innate desire to show off the only thing you were remotely sure you were good at and the fear of falling short. Almost every time, you could only reach an impasse without a resolution on the horizon.

The spiral was cut short with a gentle touch on your shoulder, stopping your pacing before you could collide with a man-sized wall. Startled, you looked straight into the familiar blue eyes, now tinted with happiness and a dose of worry. Almost as if Neil could see the depths of unease in your soul. Before he could see too much, you schooled your features into a grin and pulled him in for a hug. At least those offered the comfort of hiding your face.

For a beat. Just enough time to get over whatever this was.

“Hi” pulling back with a satisfied sigh, you met Neil’s gaze with a renewed sense of control.

For a second, you did not feel quite so close to losing your mind. Small victories.

“Hello. Shall we?” Neil took that decisive step from your hug only to take your hand in his and tilt his head towards the entrance to the ballet studio.

For a split second, that ghost of panic was back, its cold fingers digging into the fabric of your soul and making you consider bolting, leaving, using a weak excuse and calling it all off. But then Neil smiled, a reassuring, steady grin that felt like a ray of sunlight melting the ice. You could take a deeper breath and nod. It was alright.

As if in a daze, you led him through the studio. By late afternoon, the space was almost deserted, with only a handful of staff and dancers milling about in the different parts of the building. The emptiness of the space offered the comfort and privacy you were seeking. Uninterrupted, you led Neil to the room you had occupied just before leaving to greet him and set your bag back on the designated chair before retrieving your phone and connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker. You could hear Neil move in the background, undoubtedly settling on the floor like the last time. Before you could turn to confirm the assumption, he broke the silence:

“So, what have you got for me, Cupid?” the playful notes in his voice made you turn, taking note of the grin on his face as Neil sat down with his back against the mirrored wall, legs outstretched, “Mind you, I’ve done my research” shooting you a wink, he made the show of taking out a leatherbound notebook from his bag and flipping it open, seemingly at random.

You had a feeling that the pages were not empty. And that they were indeed filled with research. You could feel a grin blooming on your face as you arched an eyebrow and asked:

“YouTube videos?” twisting your mouth into a smirk, you queued up the correct Tchaikovsky tracks and took off the jumper you had thrown on before going outside.

Neil’s gaze slid over your body, lingering on the skin you had just revealed. Your smirk sharpened upon the notice with the confidence drowning out the anxieties.

“Precisely,” Neil nodded, prideful and smug, “And Wikipedia,” grinning, he glanced at the notebooks and skimmed over whatever was written inside.

You resisted the urge to join him on the floor and tug the journal from his hold to look. Instead, you chose the verbal way of getting something out of this conversation. An upper hand of sorts.

“Good boy” you waited until Neil met your calm gaze with widened eyes and broke into a satisfied grin. It still worked. As much was clear from the way his breath picked up, the fingers of his hand shaking as he tightened the grip over the notebook. It was only once that startled look turned into a glare that you chose to offer contrition, “Sorry, I had to,” you could tell there was no grudge to be held there, so you shrugged and answered the question he had asked before, “I’ve prepared Waltz of the Snowflakes and Waltz of the Flowers. I could maybe, perhaps get lead for both” even speaking the hopes into existence seemed like asking for too much.

But there was no other way. You had to try because, by now, you knew giving up was not an option. It would not work.

The nervous energy coursed in your veins as you forced your body to move, stretching lightly to prepare for the demonstration you had brought down on yourself.

“You could. There’s no ‘perhaps’ about it. Come on, show me what you got” Neil’s words acted like the necessary checkpoint, keeping you from straying too far into the land of insanity.

That, and the belief in his eyes, as if he was confident what he was saying was true. As if he needed no convincing to know you were good enough for what you set out to achieve.

It was almost too much.

“Have I mentioned that you’re bad for my ego?” straightening up after the usual stretches, you met Neil’s gaze with a fond look.

There was no point in hiding it by now. Neil knew he was important to you. He knew that you cared. You had already lost that battle where it counted.

“I’m not saying anything you don’t deserve, babe,” Neil needed no time to think about his response; its placement timed perfectly with a wink at the end.

Still, the affection spread over your skin like a disease, making it impossible to attempt scouring for a witty response. All that was left was sincerity.

“Thank you, Neil. I can’t remember anyone being this nice to me since… forever, probably” getting it out was the easiest part, immediately followed by the trickier bit, which necessitated you not to crumble in the light of compassion in his gaze.

It was a task you almost failed at. All because it hurt to be looked at like a pitiful object, but without the shame that usually came with it. No, Neil looked at you like he could not comprehend the lack of care you were handled with during your life. He saw nothing wrong with you but instead blamed everyone else for what happened. For the things he did not even know. You quivered under the warmth in his eyes and broke the eye contact, gaze darting to locate the pointe shoes. Once you spotted them, you quickly crossed the space and sat by the pair to put them on.

It always did the trick of calming you down.

All the while, you could feel Neil’s eyes on you, undoubtedly assessing your nerves and sanity. Looking for the right thing to say. Something that would not make you flee any more than you already had removed yourself from the conversation. After a beat, he must have found it, for you heard him clear his throat and break the silence with a decisive conclusion:

“That’s their loss” despite the wishes of your reason, you looked up at Neil, only to find him smiling at you softly.

No traces of pity. No traces of contempt, either. Only a friendly smile, his back pressed against the mirrors and the notebook forgotten in his lap. It was enough to make you smile back as your hands tightened the bows of your pointes, following muscle memory. Once you were assured the knots were secure enough, you stood up and flashed Neil with a bright grin, officially moving on from that conversation:

“Both variations that I’ll show you will be Pas de Deux in the production. That means-” before you could delve into an explanation, Neil raised his hand, stopping your words without a catch.

“That they’re duets, I know” the trademark smirk appeared upon his face at your slightly bewildered look, and Neil added with a self-explanatory shrug, “I told you I’ve done my reading” that spark of satisfaction in his eyes was not something you thought you could ignore.

Partially because you were surprised by the research he has done, or, more accurately, you were surprised Neil cared that much. He has put in the effort without you even having to ask.

“I’m impressed” you made no moves to hide the affection from your eyes as you let another beat of silence pass you by, locked in his gaze as always. Once the moment passed, you nodded to reassure yourself and shake off the thoughts, and continued, “Since it’s just me tonight, it’ll look a little different. That’s a disclaimer” turning back to your phone, you scrolled down the track list to find the correct variation.

That nervous energy was back, but this time, you knew that only dancing could get rid of it. Only losing yourself in the movement would do the trick. Well, that and the constant look of admiration that Neil seemed to point at you. That, too, helped with the anxiety.

“No complaints from me. If I get to watch you triumph and look beautiful while you’re at it, I’m good” as if reading your mind, Neil shot you another fond smile and seemingly settled further into his chosen spot, the back of his head lightly propped against the barre.

The pose could not be comfortable, but he did not seem to mind it. His eyes traced your every move as you put down the phone after pressing play on the music and slowly walked over to the side of the room to take up the position.

At the last second, before you had to focus on the music and the steps, you met Neil’s gaze and smiled, a simple word of gratitude ready on your tongue:

“You’re incredible” you watched as his smile widened, and the warmth spread over your chest, lightening up the nerve endings in that curious way you never quite understood.

It did not matter. You took a deep breath and started, slipping almost effortlessly into the role of Snow Queen. From then on, everything was easy. You closed your eyes against the warm studio lights and moved through the choreography without a second of doubt.

The six-minute Waltz of the Snowflakes necessitated precision and focus, with each note requiring a shift, a pirouette or an arabesque. It was not an easy piece, and you could feel sweat trickle down your temples and underneath the black bodice as your wrap skirt followed graceful air movements with a mind of its own. Yet, still, despite the exertion, something about it felt right. Like it was a role that you were meant to play. Another chance to showcase that perhaps this is what you were supposed to do.

As you froze in the final position and the first orchestra track faded, you risked opening your eyes to gauge Neil’s reaction. He stared back, seemingly transfixed with his blue eyes almost alight with something you could not name. Upon your glance, the corner of his mouth quirked, revealing another of your favourite smiles. That had to do when it came to encouragement, for before you could notice anything else, the opening notes of the second waltz rang out in the studio space. Recognition flashed in Neil’s eyes as his foot started tapping out a familiar rhythm. Despite yourself, you grinned before silently counting the beats until your grand entrance.

The second role – Dew Drop Fairy, cheerfully leading a piece of Tchaikovsky’s music almost everyone knew, even if they insisted otherwise, was a variation you did not expect to like quite so much. It used to seem too lively, fleeting and sweet for someone like you. You were not sweet. Unless one considered liquorice a sweet – particular and not everyone’s cup of tea. Yeah, that comparison made much more sense. But then, one dreary afternoon, when you rehashed the choreography for the Waltz of the Flowers from the videos and memory, you found that it could work.

Maybe. Probably. (Probably not).

After hours of practice, you were tentatively leaning towards the affirmative. Maybe. Tonight, it felt almost close to getting rid of the ‘maybe’. It felt like it was meant to be. Even with the burn in your thighs and the strain in your arms from maintaining the frame. Even with the lingering fear before tomorrow’s audition threatening to take away any remaining pleasure. The closing notes of the waltz sounded in the studio as you landed the final pirouette and opened your eyes with a gasp, caught somewhere between the striking understanding of the rightness of it all and the sudden desire to look at Neil.

To let him see you.

His eyes were there, waiting for you, always inviting you to drown within their depths at your convenience.

Suddenly, death by drowning did not seem like a bad idea.

“How was that?” cutting the tortures of the unknown short, you pressed pause on the music and steeled your spine against his all-seeing gaze.

As if sensing your unease, Neil’s smile softened, his eyes showing nothing but the affection you had seen before. That smile was easier to breathe in. Easier to understand.

“You’re truly something else, aren’t you?” the flash of something in his face was much more difficult to understand. Your brow furrowed almost unconsciously as you tried to ignore the flush of gratitude at the open praise, “As I said, I’m no expert, but this looked effortless in a way that hours of hard work can only ensure” taking a meaningful pause to save your sanity, Neil shifted in his spot, folding his long legs and propping his chin on his knees. Adorable did not quite cover it, but it was the best word you could find, “This technique, the precision, just the way you hold yourself when you dance… I don’t know much about fate and such, but I do know that you were meant to be doing this” the glimmer in his eyes told you that was what he aimed to achieve with the speech.

That, yet again, Neil has seen through your bullshit and knew where the trouble was. What it was that you needed to hear. With your fidgeting body unable to stay still even for a second, you sat on the floor on the opposite side of the studio and tugged at the ribbons on your pointe shoes to take them off. It was better than standing stock-still in the light of his scrutiny. In the light of all things in his gaze that you did not want to acknowledge. Instead, you let your heart speak as it rarely had a chance to.

“I’d like to think so. When I’m dancing, it’s like nothing else matters. I’m free to do as I please. To be who I always wanted to be,” with the bows loose, your fingers picked at the strips of satin as more sincere words found their way out of your heart. Words you had never voiced before either, “In those moments, I want to believe that I’ve become her. That this is who I am. Maybe not perfect, but-” your second of hesitation did not go unnoticed.

Before you could find another stack of constants and vowels to put in the resounding silence, Neil interrupted you with a confident tone:

“You’re not perfect, but you’re real. I think that’s much more important” despite your desire to remain nonchalant, your head whipped up to steal a glance at him.

To understand what he could mean by such a bold statement. Instead, your attention was stolen by the fact that you did not expect Neil to start standing up from where he previously looked comfortable curled up on the floors. His intense gaze measured you up as you took off the ballet shoes and dropped the only question that seemed to make sense:

“Why?” without being able to name a reason, you stood up, following some innate sense of direction that scrambled in alarm the moment you understood Neil had something on his mind.

Something you could not foresee. It was not fear that made you move, backing away towards the barres, but rather that familiar connection that sparked in your body and soul. You were not scared of him but feared what his proximity tended to do to you.

You feared losing control. Again.

Simultaneously, there was nothing you wanted more. It must have been that reasoning that made Neil take a decisive step in your direction and close the remaining gap. You stared with mouth agape as he approached, with an almost unusual amount of certainty in every move and stilted your hands as they fidgeted at your sides. Gently, he squeezed your loose fists and let go, only to tilt your chin and force you to meet his gaze. You still did not understand what you were seeing in the depths of his eyes.

But for once, it was almost comforting. That knowledge that someone else was willing to take care of you and act in your place, and all you had to do was let them do it. It brought relief, easing burdens you had not known you had been carrying. You could see the understanding in Neil’s eyes as he gave another cursory look over your face and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, eliciting an effortless sigh. Once he pulled back, you both knew there would be no resistance no matter what he wanted to do.

Another affectionate smile was the last thing you saw before Neil turned you to face the mirrored wall and pressed his chest against your back. There was no space between your bodies as he embraced you tightly, his hands resting on your stomach and just below the collarbone. His proximity felt close to overwhelming, with the warmth of his touch burning your skin and the searing intensity of his gaze meeting yours in the mirror. You took a deep breath, needing to centre yourself somehow. If only to prolong what seemed inevitable at this point.

Tentatively, you raised your hands to cover his palm sprawled across your midsection and allowed yourself to relax, leaning into his body. That seemed to be the confirmation Neil needed to break the silence:

“Because I can do this” answering a question you did not even remember asking, Neil nuzzled the top of your head and allowed his nose to trace a path down the nape of your neck and under the ear, nosing at the pulse point, with the utter confidence of someone who has done this before.

And indeed, he has. The familiarity of where you had found yourself, enveloped in the most tempting of embraces with nothing but the mirrored walls to be your witness, did not escape you. It was a tried and checked position. One that you could not oppose because it felt too good. Too comfortable.

Yet, with your brain still not entirely overcome by the haze of arousal, there was opposition to be detected. It kicked and groused, reminding you incessantly how unlike you all this was. How dangerous, despite feeling like everything but. How outrageous to just let Neil have it. With an inward sigh, you tilted your head to offer more neck for his perusal (currently littering with tender pecks) and forced your voice to remain steady as you asked:

“Are you trying to seduce me again, Neil?” this question was an easy callback.

One that Neil instantly clocked as you saw the corner of his mouth curl up in a smirk. There was no need to add that the seduction worked the first time and did not have to be repeated. Or that he hardly had to do anything but ask to have you. He knew that already.

You stared as Neil bowed his head, the golden strands catching light, and your skin catching fire from his closeness and the gentle kisses on your neck. Breath caught in your throat as his teeth nibbled at the tender flesh.

“Not quite” raising his head to shoot you a cheeky smile, Neil gave your entwined bodies an appreciative glance before he met your gaze, the tentative touch of his wandering hands only moderately distracting, “It’s just that the last time I wasn’t brave enough to say what I really thought” the pointed look in his eyes completed the sentence with the unsaid.

With the words that hardly needed to be spoken. Especially with the fact that now that he had admitted it, Neil allowed himself to be even braver. The hand previously resting on your sternum moved lower. His firm yet gentle fingers skimmed down the neckline of your bodice to cup your breast, stoking fire in your veins. Despite yourself, you pressed your body into his hold and breathed out the only response you had the mind to conjure:

“I trust you know better now” the remains of defiance shone in your gaze as you jutted your chin out, hoping to appear unaffected.

A futile task, indeed.

Especially with the way Neil pressed another kiss to the crook of your neck, marking the skin subtly. Your fingers squeezed his palm, pressing it further against your abdomen, wishing for it too to move. To do something about the need pooling between your thighs, wetting the gusset of your panties and seeping into the fabric of your bodice. Squeezing your thighs to get even a fraction of relief, you swallowed a groan and entwined your hand with his. Neil finished a meticulous study of yet another plane of your skin between the neck and the slope of your shoulder and met your hazed gaze with confidence. It was a look you were increasingly familiar with. It sharpened his exquisite features, giving him a dangerous edge. An edge you were desperate to cut yourself open upon. The growing desperation seeped through the pores in your soul as Neil gave you another assessing glance and replied:

“Naturally. Seeing you like this, so confident and in your element, is… It’s working on me” this confession was proclaimed with much less confidence, almost as if Neil worried that it was something you could dislike hearing. An idiot, if you ever met one, “You’re so graceful, so beautiful,” you stared as his palms continued their journey. The hand pressed against your abdomen shifted southward and instantly made you gasp. The sound did not escape his attention as you saw the uncertainty fade from Neil’s gaze, replaced by the familiar hunger “I’d like to touch you,” the unspoken question in his voice hardly needed anything more than a nod.

A nod you had granted him instantly, desperate to feel his hands where you needed them.

And his thumb rubbing over your nipple through the fabric could only do so much. Read: not enough.

“You are touching me” arching your eyebrow to push Neil in the right direction, you widened your stance and propped your head on his shoulder, leaning against him with almost all your weight.

Neil did not seem to mind the move. You watched as those enthralling sparks appeared in his eyes, a foolproof sign of an idea taking shape in his mind. With agonizing slowness, his hand brushed down your mid-riff, pausing for a split second at the elastic band of your wrap skirt. He seemed to debate something for a split second before following with a settled decision and parting the tuille with careful fingers. The breath you were supposed to empty from your lungs stumbled with a gasp as you watched Neil’s hand disappear between the folds of your skirt. Before you could even think about exhaling the oxygen trapped in your lungs, you felt his hand slip between your thighs, curious fingers tracing the gusset of your bodice. Even without noticing the wolfish smirk on Neil’s face, you knew what he would encounter.

The evidence of your arousal has already dampened the fabric, only completing the pathetic picture you presented with the warmth flooding your face and an irregular breath making your chest rise and fall in an unnatural tempo. Tangled strands were plastered to your temple as you stared at the mirror, barely fighting the desire to take matters into your own hands. And get relief because Neil’s teasing touches running up and down your slit did absolutely nothing.

Nothing but get you even more frustrated.

“Not like this,” the annoyance must have shown on your face, for Neil retraced his hand from between your legs and met your gaze with something akin to resolution, “Would you like to come to mine for a drink?” there was no hesitation in the proposal.

Nothing to make you feel like Neil did not want to ask, or felt pressured to. And there was no objection you could find that would make sense because you very much wanted to go back to his place. And continue whatever this was.

Ideally, with much fewer clothes in place. Yet-

“Neil, we both know that it won’t be just a drink” meeting his gaze with a deadpan expression, you grabbed the hand he had just moved back to your stomach from between your thighs and kissed his fingers with intent.

Mostly, the intent of making Neil blush wildly, as he did. But also to show that despite your weak protest, you did not mind the course of the evening or where it would take you. It was only a matter of time until you let yourself give in for the second time. Until you had an opportunity to act out the fantasies, which multiplied in your mind since the first night.

“Is there anything wrong with that?” the hints of doubt in the question were something you would accept under any circumstances.

You hated how the worries could so quickly shade any sense of confidence or arousal from his face and body. You could feel his grip loosen, letting centimetres of space between you, which already felt out of place. Before your brain could concoct any farfetched ideas, you used the newly created gap to turn in his embrace. Strengthened by the element of surprise, you had the advantage of the time it took Neil to process the new state of things. You used it wisely, first placing your hands on his chest to gain the necessary leverage and then whispered the reply with all the determination of someone who knew what they were doing:

“Absolutely not” your gaze searched Neil’s eyes for hints of anything contrary, but you found nothing. Except the need for you to be the brave one. You were happy to comply, “I think I’d like it to be… more” slowly, you allowed your fingers to brush over the expanse of his chest, reassuring and strengthening the message.

Neil’s shy smile shone through the cracks of his uncertainty, making your heart soar. As always, being in the spotlight of his affection felt like the cosiness of sunlight on an icy winter morning. It felt right.

Neil’s hands previously hanging limply at his sides, came up to cover yours pressed against his chest. It was the only warning you got before he dropped the question with a dangerous edge to his smile:

“With ties and shit?” the lethal sparks in his eyes only completed the picture, instantly drawing you back to that moment.

To the brazen comment you made straddling his lap with an undone tie in your hand. To one of the fantasies that had been born at the same instant. For the sake of the future, you were glad to see Neil was not opposed to the idea. That concept was nowhere near gone from the growing list of your wishes and daydreams.

A sudden laugh bubbled from your throat, adding that familiar tint of madness to everything you ever said, felt or did with Neil. Madness you were willingly jumping head-first into.

“Not necessarily” your faux frown carried the suspense over till an appropriate amount of time had passed for you to drop the pretence and offer Neil another wide smile, “Although-”

Neil’s burst of laughter cut short any elaborate innuendos you could have planned. You would not have it any other way.

***

If someone asked you to envision Neil’s apartment without seeing it for the first time, you would never have imagined it to look like that. A medium-sized flat just five minutes from the Swiss Cottage Underground Station, filled with things. Posh twats would have perhaps called the space cluttered, but you preferred the adjective – lived-in. Because that is what it was. When Neil closed the door behind your back and let go of your hand for the first time since getting off the tube, you did not know where to look or which item to pick up and scrutinize. Not for the wish to judge but that same innate desire to understand him. To know everything you could about Neil.

“Welcome to my humble abode” as soon as the words were out of his mouth, along with a reassuring smile, you let go of the remaining apprehensions and leaned into the curiosity with the zeal of a scientist.

Almost reverently, you floated past the furniture lining up the corridor walls, peeking inside the wardrobe with its door left ajar. A row of jackets, including leather, denim, and a fleece, did not satisfy the desire to know, but it stoked the fire. Its sparks lit you up from within as you moved down the hallway to the living room, stopping at the threshold to take in the room. The most notable features included a bookshelf brimming with tomes of different colours and sizes, a worn-out leather sofa, shelves full of CDs and vinyl, a quality record player and… a piano. A piano. Of all things. An inconvenience.

Your eyes stopped at the sight, unable to move on from the object. It made so much sense, and yet it was not something you expected. The music sheets propped on the shelf told you it was frequently used, and, therefore, not a decorative item. Your paralysis must have shown on your face, for soon you heard Neil’s footsteps, the sound stopping just behind your back as you felt his hand touch your shoulder. Unconsciously, you leaned into his warmth, resting your back against his chest.

“Care to explain this?” you asked the question as soon as you had stifled the grin elicited by Neil pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As if the meaning was unclear, you waved your hand at the instrument and looked up at him. From the vantage point, his hair looked like a halo, contrasting with the sharp edge of his smile and the hand he had returned to your chest.

“I’m no Chopin, but sometimes I like to play” shrugging, Neil glanced at the piano and added, “It’s very relaxing,” the thoughtfulness in his voice told you there was more to the story.

A conversation to pick up soon to know more about him, but, for now, more pressing matters directed your line of thought. Matters like the fire in your veins stoked by Neil’s touch and the persisting desire for things only he could provide.

“Mhmm. You’ve never mentioned it,” you frowned at the disappointment in your voice that you certainly did not wish to disclose.

It made no sense to have strong feelings towards an instrument. Secondly, you knew that Neil would latch onto this indescribable something and not let go until he understood the reasons. Despite being unable to see his face, you could already feel his curiosity spark. It did not take too long for him to grab at the chance and dig a little deeper:

“Didn’t think it’s relevant. Why? You’ve got an ick concerning pianists?” you did not like the hints of smugness in his tone or the way he tightened the hold over your body, fingers digging into your breast, overwhelming the senses.

You barely resisted the moan which got stuck in your throat, saving the remains of dignity. With the brain cells slowly transforming into horny idiots that could not do anything but thirst after Neil, there was not much opposition left in your system. What was the point, anyway? It was best to admit it now and have it over and done with so you could move on to more important pursuits.

You cleared your throat, buying for time (and pointedly ignoring Neil’s teasing touch drifting past your ribcage and further down your body) and closed your eyes as you admitted the truth:

“… No, no. Quite the opposite, actually” there.

And it was not something you had confessed to before, either. There was no need. No pianists to be met in Soho as you prowled the streets for another one-night stand. Or, at least, none admitted to playing the piano in the brief time together. But the fact was a fact. No matter how embarrassing or mortifying to say out loud.

Another fact was that as soon as you had noticed the piano in his apartment, the images started multiplying in your head, strengthening the undeniable truth that you did have a thing for pianists. Neil included.

“Well, that’s excellent news to me, Cupid” you could hear Neil’s smile in his voice as he placed his hands on your hips and turned you in the embrace to face him. As expected, the smirk was already there. As was the gleam in his eyes, telling you that your confession was welcomed. Before you could even consider saving face in any feasible way, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a searing kiss. One that made you cling to his shoulders, desperately seeking more. Whatever that would be. Parting way too soon, Neil gave you another infuriating grin and asked, “Would you like a vodka tonic?”

Despite the sudden desire to punch him in that annoyingly pretty face, you resisted the need and offered him a faux grimace, tinting the response with a weary sigh:

“Yep, I definitely need a drink after this” your gaze flicked over him, scanning Neil from head to toe, searching for places to strike when the time was right.

Which would be soon. Or so God help him.

From then on, it was almost too easy to let go. To fall into Neil and let him catch you. To take what you wanted from him. Unlike that first evening, this time was not slow; it was not deliberate in your mutual desire to understand and to learn. It was a tumble, fast and tasting of vodka tonic and coming back home. But you would never tell him that.

Instead, you touched him, indulging in every sigh, gasp and moan you could elicit. You kissed him, taking everything Neil was offering and demanding more. You let him touch every inch of your skin. And when you could not wait any longer, you settled atop his lap and took him, your fingers tracing the marks you had left on his chest and neck. This, too, was unforgettable.

When it was over, and you left his flat with an amicable smile and a strange ache in your chest, you took the long way home. Walking down Finchley Road, you tried to understand what it was. What made Neil different? Why was it difficult to switch off your head and heart when you were with him? Why, sometimes, when he looked at you, you felt like you mattered in the grand scheme of things? Why did all this matter so much? Why did it pain you to realise you did not remember a single detail from his bedroom? Why the fuck did you care?

But you did not know. You did not understand. With a weary sigh, you stifled the questions and glanced at the sky. The blue moon shone down at you. You smiled back and ignored the doubts.

It didn’t matter.

***

You did not want to analyze why your first thought after getting the cast list for this season’s Nutcracker was to message Neil with good news. Or why you did that before you even congratulated the other girls. Without letting yourself hesitate over the sensibility of your life choices, you took out the phone from your pocket and typed out a simple message:

/ 🏹, 12:57 pm/ Say hello to your new friend, the Snow Queen and the Dew Drop Fairy :)

You did not have to wait long for his reply.

/✝️, 12:58 pm/ So now there’s two of you? Lucky me :)

/✝️, 12:58 pm/ Congratulations, Cupid. I knew you could do it, sweetheart.

/ 🏹, 12:59 pm/ Thank you, you’ll definitely hear me yap about it for the next two months.

/✝️, 1:00 pm/ I wouldn’t have it any other way, darling. How was the audition?

/ 🏹, 1:01 pm/ It was surprisingly easy. Might even say a walk in the park…

/ 🏹, 1:01 pm/ Getting laid the night before might be the key to success.

/✝️, 1:02 pm/ You’re welcome. We can make that a tradition if you’d be so inclined.

/ 🏹, 1:02 pm/ Gladly. You should know I’ll never say no to great sex.

/✝️, 1:03 pm/ So you’re telling me it was great?

/ 🏹, 1:03 pm/ You know that it was, Neil.

/✝️, 1:04 pm/ Yeah, I know. You’re also great, btw. My darling, my sweetheart, you.

The idiotic smile on your face seemed unavoidable as you locked the screen and forced yourself to abandon the conversation for now. Even if just to preserve the remains of your sanity. But also to finally talk to the girls. Somewhere at the periphery of your attention, you could feel their gazes boring holes into your head. Always so attentive and curious, you doubted your manic grin would escape their attention. Unfortunately.

You did not have to wait long for the proverbial penny to drop.

“Who’s that smile for?” the sweetness in Jemima’s tone made you frown as you pocketed the phone and forced yourself to meet her searching gaze.

The girl was a fantastic friend, someone you and the other soloists could depend on whether to borrow an emergency pad or ask for help during rehearsals. But, as you already knew too well, she was also nosy. And ever since you introduced Neil to the squad those two weeks ago, another interrogation was hanging over your head. Now, the time has run out.

“No one particular, Jem,” forcing your angelic smile to reappear, you leaned back in the chair by your dressing table and started rummaging through the make-up bag without looking for anything.

You were not willing to make this easy. To embarrass yourself in front of the girls without a fight or even an attempt at pretending nothing was happening. Never in a million years.

“That sounds like an avoidance to me” Jemima’s voice did not lose a dose of its confidence as she arched an eyebrow and moved closer to your desk to corner you.

Verbally and physically. And your patience was running thin. Stifling a curse, you swivelled on the chair to look at the woman and replied:

“That’s your problem” aiming for a sassy rebuttal, you shot her a saccharine smile and turned back towards the mirror.

The glaring lack of arguments you could offer had to be ignored. However, you were painfully aware that it would not be. Not with them.

As if she could hear your internal crisis unfolding, Grace stood up from her chair, where she acted out the impassioned audience role and joined you on the opposite side, leaning over your shoulder like a keen angel of inconvenience. Her long blonde hair brushed over your collarbone as she met your glare through the mirror and added her part:

“Jem has a point, though. You’ve been somewhat more… cheery recently” as though driven to make you seethe with anger, Grace lifted the corner of your mouth into a caricature of a smile. You swatted her hand away and let out a groan, barely resisting the urge to storm out of there. You knew it would be pointless, only prolonging the questioning until the next opportune moment, “Is that Neil’s doing?” she innocently batted her eyelashes in the face of your ire.

There it was. A collective gasp from the other girls made you roll your eyes as you considered the options. Utter denial of Neil’s existence was now off the table. Sighing, you steeled your spine and decided to lay it all out. The official version. The one you maintained with everyone involved, including yourself.

“Well, we are still friends if that’s what you’re asking. And we might’ve fucked once or twice” the crude addition did what you needed it to as you took note of the resounding gasp, followed by giggles and knowing smiles from your ever-persistent audience.

You hoped it would be enough to stop the questions. If needed, you were willing to impart the knowledge of just how good Neil was at sex. Or how driven he was to make you come each time. That should do the trick.

But before you could even open your mouth to share the dirty details, Jemima patted your shoulder almost protectively and spoke:

“Good for you” worst of all, you could tell she meant it. She was happy you had Neil in whatever capacity you did. You forced your heart not to soften and went back to mindlessly sorting through the make-up. Soon, she proved you right, yet again, “Does that mean you’ve gotten over your little hang-up?” although the question could not have been any less straightforward, something about how she asked made your attention prick up.

Despite your wish to at least appear unbothered, you raised your head and turned towards the woman with an arched eyebrow at a ready:

“What do you mean?” the glare in your eyes was there to assure Jemima that your guard was still up.

That she had not succeeded. And never would.

You stared into her hazel-green eyes as the woman contemplated the pros and cons of risking your fury. Although you had a couple of guesses towards where it was going, you still did not anticipate the question that broke the tense silence next:

“Have you finally joined the club of losers in love?” you certainly did not like the knowing look in her eyes, paired with a soft smile, suggesting that (somehow) Jemima could see into the depths of your heart and soul.

She saw all the ugliness and the fears and was willing to address things you never even dared think of. It terrified you, and you had to look away before she saw too much. Swallowing hard, you turned back towards the mirror and scoffed, falling back on the familiar. It has not disappointed you yet.

“No, of course not” it was easy to throw the assumption back at her as if it was the most ridiculous thing you had heard. It was nonsensical, “You know me. Love doesn’t exist in my book. I’m not willing to fool myself into thinking it could be real. I’m not delusional” the edges of ire crept into your tone, making you spit out the words with more vehemence than necessary.

As soon as your tirade ended, regrets set in. They were strengthened by the sudden silence from the group, taken aback by your reaction. Covering your face with your palms, you hunched over the dressing table and sighed heavily.

“Harsh, love. But you do you” you felt the coolness of her touch as Jemima squeezed your shoulder and left your side, finally offering merciful respite.

One look at her through the mirror told you all the savage words were forgiven. You did not have to atone. But that did not mean you were not already plotting ways to make it up to them. Chocolates and coffee seemed like the best choices at present.

Before you could decide, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you took it out to look at the screen. Another text from Neil.

/✝️, 1:27 pm/ Do you want to visit the church tomorrow?

/✝️, 1:27 pm/ I figured it’s time you uncovered the greatest secret of my existence.

/ 🏹, 1:28 pm/ Oh, fuck yes.

/ 🏹, 1:28 pm/ Where do we meet?

/✝️, 1:28 pm/ Canary Wharf station. Where we kissed that one morning. Be there sharp at 9 am.

/ 🏹, 1:29 pm/ You know it, babes.

And just like that, your mood has lifted.

No, you were not willing to understand that either.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

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nickfowlerrr · 2 years ago

Note

Hey girl! For by drabble request, it would be for pwyc!bucky with the #4 gift giving scenario, and Dialogues #5, #11, #17, and #21. Thanks!

thank you so much for sending this in! it did not go how i expected but hopefully you enjoy it 👀

gifts 🎄

pretty when you cry series masterlist

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: none? this blog is 18+ only.

words: 1.5k

notes: i hope you all enjoy - not sure how i’m feeling about this one 🫣. haven’t decided if this will be canon or not yet.. let me know what you guys think! also steve’s girl has a name now so there’s that lol

Driving back from Eva’s Christmas party, you were inspecting the white elephant gift you had chosen with a quirked brow as you sat in the passenger seat.

“Do people even use nutcrackers? Or are these things just for decoration?” you wondered aloud as you played with the little lever that moved the nutcracker’s mouth.

“I’m sure someone somewhere still uses them to crack nuts,” Bucky responded, mainly to humor you.

“Humph.”

“What?” he asked, stealing a glance at you as he drove.

“Nothing. It’s just.. This thing is kinda creepy, don’t you think?” you cringed.

“I wasn’t gonna mention it, but yeah,” he chuckled, “it is.”

“Would it be rude to regift it?”

“To who?”

“I don’t know.. Or maybe I could just drop it off at one of those donation places,” you mused.

“No, we should regift it,” Bucky smiled deviously. “I know exactly who to give it to.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was planning on gifting it as his Secret Santa gift to Sam. Steve’s girl, Rosalie, was like the real life embodiment of the Christmas Spirit. She had decked the shop out completely the moment she got the go ahead from Steve and managed to get everyone to agree to doing Secret Santa this year. Bucky had previously refused but after Rose wouldn’t stop pestering you to pester him, you finally just agreed on his behalf and sort of forced him into it. He was going to call Steve and get him to take his name out of the mix, but it didn’t take much bribing from you to get him to just go with it.

“You have to play by the rules, Buck,” you admonished.

“How am I breaking the rules?”

“You have to buy him something, something he’d actually like,”

“Who says I can’t give him two gifts?” he challenged. You didn’t respond to that with anything other than a scoff and another roll of your eyes.

“Are we still going shopping tomorrow?” he asked.

“If we must,” you groaned.

“I can’t believe the girl who forced me to decorate the house just weeks ago is the same girl who hates going Christmas shopping,” he taunted.

“Shopping is very different from decorating. Decorating includes pretty lights and soft christmas music and cookies and cocoa and a soft ambiance in the comfort and privacy of your own home. Shopping includes big crowds, dumb people who don’t know how to walk properly in public, loud music, and those annoying perfume samplers who are like everywhere all at once,” you complained, already not looking forward to tomorrow. “I hate Christmas shopping,” you grumble.

“I love Christmas shopping,” he said.

“You love shopping, period. And if you keep buying everything you see, I’m not gonna have anything to give you.”

“You don’t have to get me anything, sweetheart. You are my gift,”

“Always so sappy,” you teased. “Plus, you can’t say that when you’ve already crowded the space beneath the tree full of gifts for me,” you sighed. Bucky put his hand on your knee, squeezing you lightly.

“If I’m being honest, half of them are for me,” he smirked, moving his hand to slide further up your dress and along your thigh. You moved his hand back to your knee, giving him a side eye.

“We’re like five minutes away - you think you can manage keeping your hands to yourself until we get home?” you asked, almost condescendingly.

“I’ve been working all night to keep ‘em to myself, angel. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” he simpered as you watched the speedometer tick up to 75.

“Well let’s try for five and we’ll see how things go from there,” you replied with a light smirk.

“I think you and I both know how things are gonna go,” he grinned.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week later and Christmas Eve finally arrived and you found yourself at the shop, surrounded by many familiar faces. As you were talking with Loki, Rosalie began ringing a little christmas bell to get everyone’s attention.

“Secret Santa time!,” her melodic voice sang from across the room.

“This should be entertaining,” Loki mused before he moved to join the growing circle Rose had organized.

You were a little worried about the gift you had gotten Wanda, but there wasn’t anything you could do now but hoped she liked it. As you approached the group, you took your seat next to Bucky, whose arm was already around it, as he spoke to Steve who was sitting on the other side of him.

After giving her little speech, Rosalie started off the gift exchange by handing her gift to Thor. Thor welcomed her gift readily and handed his gift to Yelena. Yelena had Steve, Steve had Clint, Clint had Loki, Loki had Kate, and so on and so on until it was Peter’s turn to give his gift to Bucky. Then it went from Bucky to Sam to Scott, who handed his gift to you with a smile. When everybody finally had their gift, Rosalie instructed everyone to open them.

Peter had gifted Bucky a nice set of whiskey glasses with an expensive bottle of whiskey to go with them.

You unwrapped your gift carefully as Scott looked on, looking more excited to watch you open it than he was to open his. Under the wrapping paper you found a gift set from your favorite beauty brand and a box of assorted See’s candies under it.

“This is perfect, Scott,” you smiled sincerely, getting up to hug him as you spoke. “Thank you so much!”

“I knew you’d like it! I mean, it was what you wrote on your paper, so duh, but still. I’m - I’m glad you like it,” he smiled his signature smile.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party continued well past midnight and you and Bucky got home a little after two in the morning. As you tried to head upstairs to get ready for bed, Bucky stopped you and instead directed you to sit on the couch by the tree.

“I thought we were gonna do gifts in the morning,” you said skeptically as Bucky bent down to search through the abundance of gifts sitting under the tree.

“It technically is morning,” he pointed out. “I want to give you your main gift right now.”

“Well, wait. I want to give you yours first,” you argued. You knew you were going to be shown up gift wise either way, but you figured you’d feel less bad if he opened his first.

“Doll -,”

“Please,” you said softly.

“Okay,” he conceded.

You got to your knees and looked for the box that held his ‘biggest’ gift.

He looked a little skeptical at the long thin box you handed him, but opened it anyway.

You were holding your breath as you watched him, still not sure how you even felt about it.

He opened it then looked up from the box, almost stunned, watching like he was waiting for you to say sike.

You just nervously bit your lip before looking down at the box yourself.

“Tickets,” he said. You nodded slowly.

“You know my sister lives here,” he said as he gestured to the plane tickets you had printed out.

“Yeah.. I, uh, I figured..if you still wanted us to meet, we could g-” your trepidatious explanation was interrupted by Bucky’s lips crashing into yours as he grabbed hold of your face.

“This is the best gift you could’ve given me,” he smiled. “You’ve really made my Christmas this year.”

You didn’t say anything, still fighting your anxiety at the thought of meeting anyone from Bucky’s family, and instead forced a smile. You knew he could feel your nerves, but he didn’t call you out on it. He took your hands in his and squeezed gently, leaning his head against yours for a moment before he pulled away and went back to looking for your gift.

He pulled out a small wrapped box and turned to you as you both sat kneeling in front of one another. He gently pushed you back so you were sitting completely on your heels. Your name leaving his lips, the first time in a while he’d actually used it, immediately had your undivided attention.

“Sweetheart. You know I love you. You know you’re my everything, and you know I’d do anything for you. You’re my soulmate, nothing could ever change that. We belong together. You’re mine,” he emphasized as he gently caressed your cheek. “Forever.” He pulled away only slightly to open the little box he held in his hand. You felt like you couldn’t breath as you stared at it, just blinking while he snapped open the lid. Suddenly, with the smallest movement of his hand, gleaming right at you was the most stunning diamond ring you’d ever seen. “You and I both know that. But I wanna make sure everybody else does, too.”

There was silence between you as you continued staring in shock at the ring he held. “Whadaya say, pretty girl?” he asked, finally getting you to break away from the ring and meet his eye again with the gentle nudge of his fingers along your chin, all the while you were trying to gain control of your breathing. “Marry me?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes fluff #soft!dark bucky barnes #soft!dark bucky #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky x reader #pwyc series #christmas drabbles

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kirans-wonderland · 22 days ago

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Playful Land Thoughts

(this is my version of liveblogging they are all silly and stupid dont take them seriously)

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`

Book 1

Chapter 1:

-YAY RSA MENTION

-yay basketball team mention

-sorry Floyds adhd kicked in the middle of the game (that one tiktok)

-floyd keeps his wallet in his stomach (he regurgitates it like Rico from penguins of madagascar)

-the way he sprinted to be with his twin immediately

-Jack.. sweetie. It’s okay to admit you were shopping with the homie

-It’s not like they’re kissing in the dressing room or anything… unless?

-*tucks Jade/Jack shopping date art idea away*

-Jack is an introvert through and through

-Fellow’s hair looks wack in just silhouette

Chapter 2:

-Kalim and Ortho together is an overwhelming level of smiley energy in the same place

-Ace’s rare pair is Jade and Jack confirmed

-Jamil is legitimately having a heart attack rn

-Trien kept grim after class yesterday because he knew I would be there teehee

-I wish he’d give ME that look Ace. Or any look for that matter

-Floyd hittin them with the punk punk tactics

-“But it’s October” IT’S META UP IN HERE

-I need an Ortho to manage my homework calendar

-“I have plenty of fun just getting to see my friends every day” Kalim is too good for this world

Chapter 3:

-Kalim wandering away while asking a question is so real

-Also Ortho saying his full name even while panicked is adorable

-Their outfits are SUCH bangers.

Their eyeshadow is so crisp. They must use the tape method

-Gidel having cool toned eyeshadow is interesting to me for no reason

-Fellow’s eyebrows are legitimately my everything

-“Those stylish uniforms” is showing grim and ortho who are the only ones technically not wearing clothes

-THE CANE SPIN THE CANE SPINNING

-“It’s the only thing I’ve got going for me” Babe…

-heh bosom buddy

-I LOVE GIDELLLLLLL

-Jack is utterly horrified at Kalim’s disrespect

-Fellow Honest is Megara confirmed

-Honest Ernesto? More like Glazer Ernesto

-Jade is compliment starved

-“The ace of spades no less” Fellow ships Adeuce?!

-I really thought his gift was going to be giving them their magical girl makeovers

Chapter 4:

-Oh please. Like I would ever NOT listen to Deuce

-Ortho reads all the “online buzz”

-Imagine how great the world would be if no one knew where Disneyland was

-he’s already calling himself our good friend..

-“well over 20 years” what if he’s like 40 *star eyes emoji*

-HOW FAST HE SWITCHED FROM SMILING TO DEADPAN IM CRYING

“I’m babygorl. How do you do?” I never regret my name choice

Chapter 5:

-yes ace love the skepticism, using BOTH braincells I see

-“something nefarious at foot” okay shakespeare

-Gidel’s surprised face!! I need him in my purse like a chihuahua

-if playful land already has this legendary magical reputation, why does Fellow need the boys to ‘put in a good word’ for it? Hmm..

-“School?” Mans is uneducated he just won’t admit it. We should kidnap him.

-Imagine the boys ended up bringing the whole school upon Fellow’s offer. What would he do then?

-I think they all said “ABSOLUTELY NOT” at the same time to the point it was echoing through the campus

-Leona I see you on the banner. Don’t go saying no when you don’t mean it

Chapter 6:

-Jamil has had the ‘don’t take candy from someone in a white van’ with Kalim before

-“angling to abduct you” is just funny

-“gormless nincompoop” Ace cracked out the thesaurus Riddle gave him for that one

-good boy deuce (although you would’ve looked so good in a nutcracker fit)

-I can hear the ‘yare yare’

Chapter 7:

-jacks arms look so smooth.. sorry-

-“Not so loud!” Boy I think everyone knows you cut class

-They way Leona and Jack are so concious of Ruggie

-If Ruggie and Fellow met it would be over for everyone

-Jack just wants to be a boy Leona. Let him have fun..

-they way Leona sighed in all caps

-Jack is the REAL honest fellow. Watch out Ernesto

-Azul talkin business jargon.. not listening.. he pretty (/j)

-Floyd and Jade never outright made decisions. They both ask for the others opinion, neither answers yet something always happens

Chapter 8:

-“BUH?!” Bro my friends and I saw this religiously at school

-Idia is the personification of my disney sea overstimulated breakdown

-I love that Ortho went to Vil for advice

-I live for the cross dorm interactions khsksskhggwrl.

-Ortho and Idia got the Trolls perfect family harmony

-“You silly boy” -Vil 2024

-Ortho just casually scanning a mans entire being and soul during a conversation-

Chapter 9:

-Grim’s little determined face- I’m squeezing him

-Uhm.. hate to say I AM very likely to fall in the water

-“WHOA! Lilia, Cater and Vil!” The best girlband

-I’m loving Ortho and Vil’s dynamic in this event…

-*puts on analyzation glasses*

Chapter 10:

-Ah yes, this is simply a pop music club field trip. That’s the legal cover.

-shhh vil let Kalim be delulu

-Lilia equates this trip as dangling a baby by the ankle (/j)

-Trey appearing on the scene nervously rubbing his neck like ‘uwu h-hi’

-Leona is sleepwalking. Trey kidnapped him.

-Trey brought leona because they sleep together

-Deuce protects his boyfriend- homie

-The old marrieds are bickering again (Vil and Leona)

Chapter 11:

-Did he just booty bump Lilia out of the way??

-I just know Fellow’s little tail was wagging when he complimented Leona

-Vil really stole “I’m surrounded by idiots” from Leona

-“little lordling” ….okay

-“Kalim’s not like the rest of us” He made his own tax bracket really

Chapter 12:

-Mommy and Daddy are so responsible (Vil and Leona again)

-GINO'S FACE THE EYBROWS

-Gino would love Roblox

Chapter 13:

-When is it magical girl transformation time

-YAYYYY GLOWY TRANSOFRMATION

-I still think Ace looks like he’s going to fight a bull. Love it though

-I live for the twins getting different colors

-Bros complimenting bros

-As much as I love the outfits, I REALLY would not want to go around an amusement park dressed like that

Chapter 14:

-‘believe in yourself babygirl (Fellow)’ -Lillia 2024

-Please let me kidnap Gino. We can wreak non-magic havoc together

-NUTCRACKER AHH CATER

-Im sorry but Lilia is so gender. You don’t understand how much I need it

-OH HES SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE A NUTCRACKER I’m not crazy (I didn’t know it was canon)

-The shape of Lilia’s neckline is everything. Is the bodice corseted or is Lilia just like that??

-Lilia’s eye-makeup reminds me of a Junko Enoshima cosplayer…

-Trey looks like he works at the Dickens fair

-LEONAS BRAIDSSSSS SQUEEEEEEEEE also his choker love

-Mommmmm- Leona and Trey are flirting again (/j)

-cutting away from Leona and Trey’s compliment-fest to Vil being like ‘what gives husband?’

-IM FERAL FOR STEAMPUNK JACK

-I need to start practicing Vil’s demand for a mirror in my real life

-“It’s a gorgeous look that’s still very you” That’s so sweet. I would kill for Jack and Vil’s friendship

-I need their outfits in my guest room NOW

Chapter 15:

-KALIMMMMMMMMMMMMMM *screaming fan girl* THATS MY SONNNN

-I love the bright yellow it looks so good on him

-“in the days of yore” -Lilia 2024. Okay grandpa

-Take notes guys. Playful land even accommodates Ortho. No ableism even in clothing

-The way Fellow’s ear turns to the side kffhjafhlFBlf

-The flattery already has gone to your head Ace

Chapter 16:

-GRIMS PINOCCIO FIT AHHHHHHH

-I wanna see our outfit… but I don’t want to design one myself…

-okay good at least I can rest easy knowing we have a crop jacket

-The amount of scrunch in Fellow’s face is unreal

-THE EVIL LAUGH AND THE CANE SPIN

-IM ON THE GROUND AGAIN

#twst spoliers?#idk if you can even call any of this chaos a spoiler #for my nation of three <3 #kirs gone cheshire

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buttercupjosh · 2 years ago

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Unexpected Love (the 4 times Cale surprised you + the 1 time you surprise him)

(Gif credit by @9116)

word count: 3,240

warnings: none

Genres: Strangers to lovers, fluff, self insert

A/N: I decided to step a bit out of my comfort zone a lot for this story. I participated in @antoineroussel’s Winter Fic Exchange and this is my story for @wildrangers, written with the extremely talented Cale Makar. I hope that you like it. I’m sorry in advance that it kinda speed runs a bit but I just wanted to try something different. I also decided to challenge myself by writing some dialogue for the first time in years so please bear with me if the conversations aren’t that great. Title doesn’t come from a specific song/place. There’s a reference to Glittery by Kacey Musgraves feat. Troye Sivan buried in the story. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

Recommended/optional listening: Glittery by Kacey Musgraves feat. Troye Sivan

“What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me. I laid the groundwork, and then, just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line. What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine, it was all by dеsign.” -Mastermind by Taylor Swift

Although it was snowing outside, you were melting down inside of your apartment. You lost your wallet and the last place you were before coming home was the Target parking lot. You called the store to see if someone had turned it in and were getting ready to go back to the store to check when your doorbell rang. A tall blonde boy wearing a black puffer and a maroon Colorado Avalanche hoodie stood in your doorway, holding your wallet. He introduced himself to you as Cale and you thanked him for bringing it back to you. Before Cale left, you asked him why he brought your wallet to your apartment instead of mailing it back to you or returning it to the store. He explained that your apartment was on the way to his so he stopped by to give it to you. You were taken aback by Cale’s kind gesture. He had no idea who you were and yet he drove out of his way to bring back your wallet, with everything in it. You offered Cale gas money (which he refused) and pleaded with him to let you repay him somehow for what he did.

“Well, you can pay me back by going with me to watch the Nutcracker. I really want to go check it out but none of my teammates want to go with me”, Cale responded.

“Actually, that’s something that I’ve been wanting to do as well and I would love to go with you. Are you free next Saturday?”, you asked.

“I have a game next Saturday but maybe we can go next Sunday’s 6 pm showing?", Cale replied.

“That works for me.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“I would hope so since you already know where I live.”

Cale chuckled at your words and you exchanged numbers before he left. It really wasn’t an issue for Cale to bring you back your wallet. Sure, like you had mentioned, it would have been easier to return it to the store or mail it back to you (which is what he would have done if you weren’t home). Cale was glad that you were there and that you agreed to go with him to see the Nutcracker. It was something that he had really wanted to check out for a while but the guys on the team weren’t into it and Cale didn’t want to be set up again by the WAGs; he had even considered going to watch it alone. Thankfully, he met someone new and Cale was looking forward to seeing you again.

————————————————————

Just as you had agreed to, Cale picked you up right on time for your outing together. You and Cale didn’t really know each other well enough to call it a date but by the end of the evening, you both knew it was one. Before going to the venue, you both agreed to go to dinner first. Over the meal, you both learned about each other and shared stories about your lives. You thought it was fascinating to hear about life in Canada, a place you’ve never been to, from someone who was born and raised there. Cale felt the same way about you, hearing you talk about your life and your career as a social worker. He admired that you enjoyed helping others. You and Cale also shared a mutual experience of attending college and you both shared stories from that chapter in your lives. Cale even felt comfortable talking to you about some of the things he studied in his psychology courses since you studied social work.

After dinner, you and Cale headed over to the Denver Center for Performing Arts. The Nutcracker was amazing and spectacular; it exceeded both of your expectations. The center was close to the public ice rink, so after the event ended, Cale noticed that your eyes lit up when you saw everyone skating. He asked you if you wanted to go ice skating. You hesitated to go because you don’t know how to ice skate and you can barely even roller skate. You did not want to embarrass yourself skating in front of someone who won the Stanley Cup. Despite these feelings, Cale offered to teach you how to skate if you wanted to try. It was not everyday that a professional hockey player offered to teach someone how to ice skate so you agreed to it. You paid for the skate rental since Cale paid for the tickets to the Nutcracker and you split the bill for dinner. Cale was nice enough to tie your skates for you. You were so nervous to step out of the ice but a newly familiar voice reassured you.

“Just hold onto me, I got you. If you fall, I’m right here to pick you up. I promise you that you’ll be okay. If you don’t like it at any point, we could leave.”

You took Cale’s words to heart and following his instructions, you reached out to him and shakily touched the ice. Cale turned around to face you and he gently guided you through the basics of skating. It took some time for you to get it right and there were plenty of moments when you had trouble maintaining your balance but you were relieved that Cale was so patient with you. As time passed, you started to become more comfortable on ice skates and eventually let go of him, but remained close by in case anything happened. However, Cale didn’t want you to let him go because he liked being physically close to you. At one point, you felt confident enough in your skating ability that you challenged Cale to a race around the rink. You decided that the winner would choose the next outing you did together and the loser would pay for the hot chocolate when you were done skating.

You were a bit bold in what the winner won, even though you weren’t fully sure if Cale had wanted to hang out with you again. You both agreed to the conditions and you were relieved that Cale didn’t offer a different option for the winner. You and Cale began to race from one end of the rink to another. Due to the fact that this ice rink has tons of skaters and wasn’t as well maintained like the one at Ball Arena, Cale accidentally fell on the ice. With your assistance, Cale got back up. You both agreed to leave and went to a cafe nearby for some hot chocolate.

“Are you sure you’re a Stanley Cup champion if you fell down like that?”, you joked. Again, you made Cale laugh. He liked that about you, how witty and funny you were.

Despite him falling, you technically won the race and decided that your next outing with Cale would be going to look at the Christmas lights at the Denver Botanical Gardens that upcoming Friday evening. The outing at the Botanical Gardens was beautiful and you and Cale took plenty of photos to keep as memories. Cale really enjoyed spending time with you, even if you didn’t get to see each other as often, due to his busy schedule. Even though he was primarily occupied with hockey, Cale still kept in contact with you more frequently, getting to learn more about his newfound friend.

Christmas was fast approaching but you were unable to see each other before the holiday. You and Cale had made plans to see each other once he got back from Calgary over the short holiday break. You weren’t sure what to get him since Cale never really mentioned anything that he had needed or wanted and you had only known each other for a short time so you settled on giving him a Christmas card with a Starbucks gift card inside. However, close to Christmas, you got a gift in the mail from Cale.

Hope I got the right color. Happy Holidays, y/n

-Cale

You were shocked when you opened the package. Cale had somehow found the rare In The Weeds vinyl variant of Folklore by Taylor Swift. You had mentioned to Cale once that you were looking for a Folklore vinyl to complete your record collection but you didn’t think he would go as far as getting it for you. You were so thankful for Cale; you hadn’t known each other long but you knew that you really had a good guy on your hands.

————————————————————

You met up with Cale for lunch after he returned to Denver from Calgary so that you could give him his Christmas card. Although you felt inferior by giving him something so simple, Cale was very appreciative for the gift because it was thoughtful and came from you. As the time inched closer towards the new year, Cale invited you to the Avs’ New Years Eve game and party; you thought it was nice for him to include you in a team event. You were just Cale’s friend so you didn’t feel comfortable sitting with the WAGs at the game. You brought along one of your friends, who would spend the rest of the holiday with her boyfriend, to keep you company. You had watched hockey casually before but this was your first time attending an actual game. You had a good time; they didn’t win but it was okay.

After the game ended, Cale and the rest of the team migrated towards the New Year’s party at JT and Sydney’s place. Due to the fact that it was a holiday and he knew that he could work it off later, Cale decided to drink a little bit to ring in the New Year. By the time the clock started to wind down in the final minutes, he was already giggly and tipsy.

“Hey, y/n, I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss before. Would you like to be mine?”, Cale asked you.

You weren’t sure if he was asking you to kiss him because he was under the influence or if he was showing his true feelings. You had gone out together more than once but neither of you expressed those hangouts to be dates (even though they lowkey were). You and Cale considered each other friends but you did have a little crush on him. You didn’t want to hurt Cale’s feelings either (even if he wasn’t sober) so you agreed to kiss him. You chanted the countdown with everyone. When everyone yelled “Happy New Year”, Cale leaned in to kiss you on your cheek. Yep, even though he wasn’t fully sober, he was still being respectful. You laughed after he pulled away. Cale enjoyed the sound of hearing you laugh. You had wanted to kiss him back on his cheek but you decided against it. You weren’t sure how Cale truly felt about you sober and you didn’t want to muddy the waters of what you had by doing such a thing.

The following morning, you got a phone call from a certain rosy cheeked cutie, asking you to be his romantic partner. That one phone call changed everything for the better between you and Cale. You were so relieved to hear that he liked you back and his drunk actions did convert to sober thoughts.

————————————————————

Spending time with Cale felt like the world had stopped, time didn’t seem to pass and that time together turned from months to years. Your relationship felt like something out of a love song. Of course, there were expected highs and lows, losses and gains, disagreements and mutual understandings, tears shed and kisses shared all in between. Cale was right there by your side through it all. Things just fell into place for you both and it was almost like you were meant to be together, like it was part of some plan schemed by a mastermind. You didn’t have any evidence but it was like Cale had designed different ways for you to keep falling for him and you would continue to fall deeper and deeper into him and his love.

After being together for some time, you and Cale had decided to make the huge step of purchasing a house. You had found the perfect new build in Cherry Creek and were excited to spend your future together in this home. One weekday evening after Thanksgiving, you and Cale decorated the Christmas tree. You were both busy with work so you couldn’t push it off until the weekend. It was nice to have this time together, even if it wasn’t much. You had shared with Cale a fun family tradition; as you hung up an ornament on the tree, you had to say one thing that you loved about the other person. You knew deep down that Cale loved you but it was nice to hear him say the things that he loved about you; his presence in your life lit you up inside like a glittery Christmas tree. It meant a lot to Cale to hear from you specifically the things that you loved about him; he loved the way you decorated his heart with your kindness, selflessness and compassion. As you continued to hang up ornaments and string garland around the tree, you had quietly started to wonder about when Cale would propose. You had been together for over a year and you were already in the process of getting a home together. To you, Cale was the man of your dreams and he was worth the wait. To Cale, you were the one he wanted to marry and he was so grateful to have you as part of his life. He was glad that you had adjusted well to his lifestyle as a hockey player and being thrust into the spotlight by being romantically involved with him. Cale knew that the love you had shared together could not be replicated with anyone else. You both had this strange, unexplainable effect on each other.

Realistically, you had thought Cale would probably propose to you on Christmas when both of your families were in town. There was no guarantee that you would close on the new house and be moved in by then so Christmas was going to be hosted at the apartment. Cale knew when it was the right time to propose and it wasn’t when you had expected.

Right before Christmas, Cale had gotten a call from the real estate agent for you to meet at your new home to officially close on the property. You both had gotten dressed in your nicest sweaters since there would be a photographer there to take photos of the realtor’s clients with their new homes and you drove together to the location of your new address. You had arrived and noticed that the realtor wasn’t around with the keys to the house. However, the photographer was there. Cale got a text from the realtor who said that he was running late. The photographer suggested you take photos while you waited. You and Cale had professional photos done together before so it didn’t hurt to add more to your collection. During the impromptu photoshoot, Cale got down on one knee, holding your dream ring in a box.

“Y/n, from the moment I met you, I knew you were someone special. I couldn’t have planned the way that we met but after I left your apartment that day, something in my heart spoke to me and I started making plans to pursue you and your heart. I’m so glad that those plans worked out. You are such a light in my life, I love that you’re so kind and you’re one of the most hard-working people I’ve ever met, you’re so beautiful, inside and out. You are my best friend and the love of my life. I love you so much. Now that I have you in my life, it’s hard for me to imagine it without you. There’s no one else in this world that I would want to wake up next to, fall asleep with and spend the rest of my life with. Y/n, will you marry me?”, Cale asked. Your suspicions about him were right after all. Overwhelmed with joy and with tears in your eyes, you accepted Cale’s proposal and were met with one of your favorite gifts: a kiss from your lover.

Unknown to you, Cale already had a copy of the key to your new house. As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted with cheers and hugs from both of your friends and family. Some of the guys from the team and their partners were there as well to celebrate this special moment for you and Cale. You also saw that there was food and some decorations for your engagement party. The realtor was also there inside, with the paperwork so that you could legally sign off as a homeowner. Putting pen to paper, it was officially done. You couldn’t quite believe it; you had started the day off as Cale’s romantic partner and you ended it by becoming new homeowners and Cale’s fiance.

————————————————————

It was Cale’s first birthday as your husband. He came in late last night after an East Coast road trip and slept in late since the Avs had a few days off in between games. Cale looked so peaceful, deep into sleeping and snuggled up with your dog, Benny. You quietly slipped out of bed and went into the kitchen. You tried your best to not disturb your sleeping husband while you made pancakes for him. You knew that Cale always had some sort of surprise for you because he enjoyed seeing the joy that creeped across your face when he surprised you and this time, it was your turn to surprise him.

Cale knew that you weren’t an early bird at all and without an alarm, you could sleep through anything (including the apocalypse); you also tended to sleep in on most weekend off days. He was genuinely surprised to see you up before him. Cale was even more surprised to see that you decorated your shared home with balloons, streamers and a Happy Birthday banner for him. Sure, he had been surprised on his birthday before but it meant even more to him that you did this for him. You sacrificed your sleep to cook for him and to put things up instead of offering to go out to eat or hiring someone else to do everything. He didn’t care if you had got him a super expensive, special birthday gift or had even more surprises up your sleeve. Cale had all that he wanted for his birthday, right here, just feet away, dancing in the kitchen.

The one thing that wasn’t planned at all for Cale’s birthday was the snowfall. According to the weather forecast, there was a 40% chance of snow for October 30th and it was only in the upper elevations near the mountains. That 40% chance of snow turned 100% overnight and now all of Denver was blanketed in white. The unexpected snow on the ground meant that winter came a bit sooner than expected; it also meant that the days were going to get grayer and colder. Although the snow was here to stay, all it took for Cale was one look at you, his heart would get warm and it would all melt away.

#cale makar #colorado avalanche #cale makar x reader #cale makar imagine #cale makar fic #the winter fic exchange 2k23 #my writing #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #please read my story

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theatrekidenergy · 5 months ago

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I think it's so cool that you're a figure skater. How did you get into that? I've debated it myself, but I'm disabled so I'm unsure if I should attempt it or not, lol, but those who can do it have always impressed me and seemed extremely magical. There's no need to answer this if you're uncomfortable, obviously, I'm just curious :)

I just realized I’ve left this in my inbox for so long I’m so sorry man 😭 /gen

1. Thank you so so much! That means a lot to me.

2. How I got into it and my process:

Essentially the way I got into it was that one day I went to an ice rink with my cousin, fell many times, and loved every second of it. That’s what sparked it. I got home with a new hyperfixation that had formed nearly spontaneously and started researching like crazy, it was all I could think about for about 2 weeks before my mom caved in and bought me a very beginners lesson which I passed the first day and went to the second level. (Keep in mind, it’s not needed to commit to buying skates for quite a while! I didn’t buy skates until having had skates for nearly 4 months)

From there I flew through levels pretty fast, and became friends with someone who I now consider to be my absolute best friend. 4 months into skating, right after I bought my first skates, my coach who had taken me under her wing particularly decided to have me perform in a show, The Nutcracker. Was I terrified? Absolutely. But, I was in a group of other skaters and it taught me loads of fundamentals of skating, and performance. I highly recommend taking any chance to do shows like this, especially during the winter months which have great help for beginners and advanced skaters alike. After the nutcrackers my coach skipped me multiple levels into a higher up program.

I’ve been skating for nearly a year now and have competed in countless small programs in my city as well as two different competitions on a regional level and will be in a duet in a show this august as well as a soloist in a huge show this winter.

3. Disability wise: Personally speaking I have fibromyalgia and hEDS, and I’ve talked to my doctors multiple times about the safety of it for me and they’ve all passed it off as okay, plus being on the ice all the time essentially functions as a full body ice pack which feels like heaven if you have chronic pain. Please, before you start skating talk to your doctor and physical therapist about if it would be a good choice for you. I was not diagnosed when I started skating but was in a lucky enough position to be able to continue as well as being encouraged by my doctors to continue it; however, not everyone is going to be the same and it’s important to talk to your doctor about it as you become more advanced for your own safety.

Also, don’t be afraid to tell your coaches and community about your diagnosis! In fact, lots of skaters I know have some kind of a disability, and many of the staff have the ability to give certain accommodations on ice depending on the rink you skate at.

4. A bit of encouragement: Believe me, progress is possible and everyone works at their own pace, there is no shame in being a beginner and I promise you figure skaters are some of the sweetest communities you can be a part of, if you ever need any help I’ve never once had a more experienced skater be rude or even passive aggressive. I hope you decide to make the leap to figure skating, it has helped me so much and I hope it can do the same for you. I hope you have a fantastic day / night and I’m wishing you luck!

#Figure skating #Asks #Figure skater #ice skating #ice skater #Disabled #disabled athlete #hEDS #fibromyalgia #Fibro #Chronic illness #Chronically ill #disability

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corvid-tournament · 7 months ago

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Hello all and welcome to the ultimate corvid tournament!

Do you like corvids? I like corvids! But which one is the best? Well, dear tumblr user, that will be decided by you! Over the course of four (yes four) brackets, we shall determine which species within the family corvidae shall reign supreme! Am I an ornithologist? Not even slightly! Am I pulling my information directly from Wikipedia? You bet I am! Am I just here to have a good time? Absolutely!

“Hey Corvid, you said four brackets.” Yes I did! The family corvidae consists of 24 genuses with 135 species as of posting, and I am not about to put that into one bracket. The tournament will function as follows:

All 135 species of corvids have been separated into three brackets: one for crows, ravens, and rooks, one for jays, and one for coughs, treepies, jackdaws, nutcrackers, and magpies. I will be making a separate post about the brackets themselves.

After each bracket has determined its champion, the top 4-8 (I honestly haven’t decided, I might put it to a vote) contenders from each bracket will be put into a Special Fourth Bracket to determine who is the best corvid! This bracket will be structured slightly different from the other ones to account for placement in the original brackets.

Are you excited? Well you better be! Or else.

#corvid tournament #corvid #corvids #tournament poll #tumblr tournament

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sodabranch · 8 months ago

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That one Anon back at it again with more thoughts about the handsome fella who deserves the world and a kiss on the cheek. Hope to give you some motivation for your lovely work :)

1. An employee taking off their headgear and Justice getting all giddy from finally seeing a proper human face, after so long! It slowly reaching in to feel their head, because of how soft they always are.

2. Justice daydreaming about a nice future with its buddies, as it watches them sleep. Wouldn't it be nice to return to that life within a proper home for all of them, no more tacky suits, plenty of space, and an actual kitchen?

3. A scenario where Justice comes to realise the gravity of the situation, overhearing the employees talk of the consequences of not meeting quota and the fear for their lives. Already troubled by the loneliness of Dine, it causes a snowballing desperation. It can't go back to that!

There has to be more scrap, than what the employees typically collect, right? If it takes out those turrets, that's extra. If even tattered sheet metal is worth something, how about Justice tears some more off the moon bunkers' interiors? Perhaps, even those enemy nutcracker parts are worth a pretty penny.

But what if they come just short, after already selling all they had? Then, it can... rip out an arm of its own? Whatever keeps them alive for just a few more days...

Justice considering the possibility of if one could override the ship's systems, removing it from Company control, and escaping this hellish job.

And what if an employee dies? Would Justice be in denial, trying to wake them up, retrieve them, or tend to the fatal injuries, or would it understand right away?

4. Ending it sweetly: Justice may or may not understand human relationships, but knows an engagement ring is a great sign of love and trust. It finds one and presents it to its master. And they're keeping it! Never giving it to the Company!

At this rate, I may as well ask you permission to have Justice's hand in marriage.

Anon I'm going to have to give you a name you're like an acquaintance now First off: Justice love is for everyone !!!

OMG yes I literally cannot imagine its excitement after seeing a human face for the first time in many years. Ofc, you can kinda make out what pepople look through their visor, but with the darker tint,, it's just not the same,, It would examine all your factions, trying to remember every little detail it can: the colour of your eyes, how your hair looks, any distinctive marks;; then cherish that image for as long as it can

AHWHHAHSDHSDHDHS AND THE DOMESTIC SCENARIOS <3<3<3 no more worrying about reaching the goal at the end of the deadline,, finally realizing it is no longer serving, but rather being part of the group,, like a found family kind of deal ;;_; Spending time indulging in everyone's hobbies, taking interest for their routines and the things they all have to say and do,,,, OUGHH psychic damage,,

3. AND um this um this ¿¿???? like, first, I still believe Justice doesn't understand human emotions 100%,, but it can sense the tension and dread setting in as time progresses, this is kind of an unlucky week,, so it will do whatever to aliviate the crew's load. From risking it staying just a bit overtime (Careful with the hounds D:) to taking extreme measures and trying to sell its precious rifle,,

And ofc the arm thing :o like, being semi-biological it could theoretically replace it with another one... but this also means it will hurt.. a bit too much;; anything for the well-being of the team

bonus:

and well, death is a pretty complicated topic. It does understand the concept of death, it has witnessed it and has even been the cause of it,, but the difference is in lacking the proper knowledge as to what death really means... If it were to happen to one of its teammates it will first try to do whatever in its power to try to remmediate the situation,, in a state of pure panic like, trying to resusitate them, carrying them to safety or looking for help;;, once it realizes nothing can be made you can only imagine the unbridled rage it will feel. This being one of the only times it has been seen showing this emotion aaaaaaaa

(I can speak more but I don't want to make this too long hhsfhhfhfh)

4. YESS YESS i mean, human relationships have kinda always been present in its life, to taking care of a family to seeing its crewmates interact. This doesn't mean it is that well-versed in the subject, But just finding this shiny object on one of their excursions and thinkign it is really beautiful,, it has already seen something like this before, people gift it to each other as a sign of loyalty and total devotion so someone special in their lives! This made it immediately drop whatever it was doing at the time and go out looking for its master, finally finding them on one of the many corridors of the structure,, dropping on one knee (it guesses this is the proper way to do it??) and giving them the ring AHJSHHSD omg brainrot

#ask #my guys #KJAHJJFHSHJF GOING ON A HUNT LOOKING FOR YOU #I tried to answer this to the best of my abilities #but im tired and my english is not englishing today #LOVE YOU ANON ANON LOVE FOREVER #HASHTAG ANON LOVER

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daveslutstaine · 8 months ago

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I've been wanting to make a top ten composers list so here it is! This list does go in order from most to least beloved so yeah

1. Antonio Vivaldi

Surprising absolutely no one, Vivaldi has gained the spot of number 1 in my heart. While a good chunk of his work is largely concertos, there's so many that I have come to love, though I will say his cello sonatas are my favorites, but I'll be going into those on a separate post. Out of all the composers out there, Antonio Vivaldi has managed to capture my heart in ways I never knew possible. He just makes my brain short circuit and I love it!

2. Tchaikovsky

Next up is my favorite composer from childhood, Peter Tchaikovsky. He's a composer whose works I grew up with, especially when it comes to The Nutcracker and Swan Lake. I remember feeling a sense of awe when I first heard his stuff, and part of me still feels that to this very day when it comes to his works. It's a shame I never got to play any more of his stuff when I was in the orchestra. We played 1812 overture, but never any of this other fantastic works. Highly recommend him for anyone else interested in classical music!

3. Dmitri Shostakovich

And now here's a composer that I have recently come to love, another Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich! A man who wrote a whole opera about an anthropomorphic nose, Shostakovich is more toned down than some of the other composers I enjoy, but I think that's why I like him so much. Since I am constantly tired these days, his music provides me with my much needed noise without being so energetic that it ends up draining me, so for that (along with a few other reasons) he's earned his spot here!

4. Franz Liszt

Next we have Mr. Franz Liszt, a man whose works blew me away so much that I actually briefly considered learning how to play the piano because I desperately wanted to play Love Dream (well I still do)! But hey, at least I can attempt to transcribe it for the electric guitar. Anyway my possibly unrealistic goals aside, Liszt revived my old love of the piano and I will always thank him for that. I will go into more detail when I make a separate post about him in the future, but for now, I leave it as is!

5. Giacomo Puccini

And now we have Mr. Giacomo Puccini, a man who has become a "comfort composer" of mine. Basically his music aids in calming me when my anxiety is running high. I'll either listen to my favorite hymns or I'll put on something from Madame Butterfly or Musetta's Waltz. My absolute favorite song of his is Un Bel Di Vedremo from the Madame Butterfly opera, though I'm fairly certain I have stated before that I greatly prefer the orchestral version than the opera one, but I won't go into that right now since I will most likely be making a separate post about his operas sometime soon! Highly recommend the song though! It is, in my most humble opinion, The Best aria I have ever heard in my life.

6. Camille Saint-Saëns

And next is the man responsible for getting me back into classical music, Camille Saint Saens. Known for the song Danse Macabre, Saint Saens is a man that I hadn't known about until I randomly came across the Danse by complete accident on YT, he is the reason why I blast your dashboard with 50 posts of random composers I like, and man I am glad for it. I have always held a love and admiration for classical music, one that was discovered in childhood and slowly repressed over time, though now revitalized and stronger than ever, and it's all thanks to one Frenchman from the 1800s. Love Saint Saens, and I always will!

7. Niccolo Paganini

And now for the man that I like to describe as Vivaldi if he were hopelessly addicted to stimulants, the infamous "Devil's Violinists", Signore Niccolo Paganini. A composer that has only recently captured my attention, Niccolo is so fascinating to me, not just as a person, but as a musician. I have played the violin for a long time, and never in my life did I ever imagine anything like the works Paganini made. I think my fingers would break if I tried playing his Caprice, but I still love listening to the utter chaos of it!

8. Giuseppe Tartini

Oh and here is a man who was actually one of Vivaldi's contemporaries, Giuseppe Tartini! Also a violinist that was accused of selling his soul to the devil, Tartini is one that really caught my attention with his famous Sonata in G Minor, also known as "The Devil's Trill". While not as chaotic as Paganini, Tartini, like all these other men here, has managed to tickle my brain oh so nicely!!! Even his less exciting works have managed to make me go 💖💖❤💖💞💓. Love him to utter bits!

9. Antonin Dvorak

Here we have Czech composer Antonin Dvorak. Words cannot describe how his works have managed to make me feel. If I could crack open my brain and reveal to you all how his music makes me feel I would. There is something about it that just crushes me a good way and I cannot describe it. It makes me feel similar to how Pavarotti makes me feel. Maybe it's the colors, maybe it's something else but I just don't know how to describe it. It's something that builds in my chest and makes me feel like I'm explode but in a good way. Maybe one day I'll be able to describe it, until then, know that he is one of the best in my most humble opinion!

10. Mozart

And last but not least, the guy I wish I could've shoved into a locker, W.A. Mozart. Yes I want to shove him into a locker, not because I hate him as a person, but because he just has a vibe to him that makes me a little violent. My violent tendencies aside, do I even need to say much about him? He's one of the most well know composers so I'm sure anyone reading this is familiar with him in one way or another. My favorite work of his Requiem, the composition that has been accused of being what killed him, and the work I'm currently trying to figure out on the guitar. For as much I love bullying Mozart, he does hold a special place in my heart! 10/10 love this funky dude!

And here we have it! My top ten composers!

#andy.exe #music posting #and happy birthday vivaldi!!!!

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sasaranomiya · 1 year ago

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Koukyuu no Karasu Volume 3 Chapter 4 - The Twilight Orb (Part 2)

An unexpected twist???

Previous || Index || Next

On that day, Koushun came to Yamei Palace while it was still light, which was unusual for him.

“I’m a little busy, so I can’t stay here for long, but I came to see how you’re doing,” he said matter-of-factly without even sitting down in a chair.

“You needn’t come if you’re busy,” Jusetsu said in exasperation, but Koushun didn’t say anything and just stared at her face.

“…What?”

“If you’re well, then that’s good.”

Just as Jusetsu was wondering what that was all about, Koushun was already outside the doors.

Gazing after him as he left, Jusetsu rose. She was about to leave the room when Xingxing started to kick up a fuss, but she ignored it and chased after Koushun.

“Koushun.”

Koushun seemed a little surprised by her chasing after him.

“…Was there something you have to tell me?”

“No. I’ll see you off until you’re outside Yamei Palace.”

“…See me off?”

“Yes.” Even she herself wondered what she was doing.

Koushun slowed his hurried pace and matched Jusetsu. Ei Sei glanced back at her, but instead of giving her a sharp look, he abruptly turned back around.

She was thinking of talking about Banka, but that wasn’t something that could be done in a short distance, and it wasn’t something she had to talk about right now. It seemed Koushun had the same thought. “I have a few things I want to talk about, but it would be difficult to keep it short,” he said. “I’ll talk with you later.”

“Are you busy?”

“A little.”

It was a meaningless conversation. Once in the woods, the area became dimly lit due to the thick foliage, but it was still extremely humid.

Jusetsu stopped walking when they reached the edge of the woods. Koushun turned around.

“I’ll come visit again.”

There’s no need for you to visit—that was what she would have responded a short while ago.

“Okay.” That was all she said, and she watched him leave. The shadows darkened, perhaps because the sun was covered by clouds. Jusetsu was left behind in the dim forest.

The cries of the spotted nutcracker echoed.

Koushun returned to the inner court from the inner palace and headed for Koshi Palace on foot. He had summoned Shiki there.

Quietly located in a corner of the inner court, Koshi Palace was a small, unusual palace. Its outward appearance was simple, the pillars not even painted red. The decorative tiles depicted an old man riding a large turtle, and cast-iron lanterns hung from the eaves. Once inside, one would find a line of copperplate flags hanging along the walls. They shook and made a rattling sound when one passed by. No one knew why the building was designed this way. The stone floor was engraved with stars in gold paint.

There was no furniture except for a folding screen, a couch, and a table. Shiki was kneeling next to the couch. Koushun sat down on the couch and told him to raise his head.

“…There is a place I would like for you to go,” Koushun said quietly. Shiki glanced up at him and nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“It’s close to Meiin’s house. It’s a mansion in Tourin Row.”

Shiki looked up in surprise. “That’s—”

“I’ll have someone of the Northern Command act as your escort.”

A soldier of the Northern Palace Guard. Tourin Row was the area where the Un estate was located.

“I want you to meet Eitoku. If you tell him that you’re here on my order, he will meet you.”

Shiki silently waited for the order of what he was going to do when he met Eitoku. Koushun leaned toward him, who was still kneeling.

The image of Eitoku, who he adored as his teacher since childhood, flashed through his mind and disappeared.

There was a commotion at Yamei Palace when the dim light of the evening was deepening.

Xingxing was the one who started making a fuss, but before they could feel the presence of a visitor, something akin to a scream rang out.

“Lady Raven Consort! Lady Raven Consort, please help us!”

It was Senjo’s voice. She was terribly distraught. She flew in when Jusetsu hastily opened the door.

“Lady Raven Consort…”

It seemed that the attendant, who was not accustomed to running, had run all the way here. She collapsed to the floor, panting. Jiujiu went to the kitchen to get water, and Jusetsu ran to her side to help her up. She rubbed Senjo’s back as she coughed, gave her the water, and waited for her to calm down.

“What happened?” Jusetsu asked once she settled down.

“Lady Banka…the Lady Crane Consort suddenly collapsed.”

“Collapsed? Did she suddenly become ill?”

“No—I don’t know. She’s suffering from a high fever.”

A high fever.

She recalled the story about the curse she heard from Banka during the day.

“We called for the doctor, but something strange happened when Lady Banka collapsed—”

“Something strange?”

“In the evening, a package arrived from the Saname clan—this is a common occurrence. Fabrics and accessories are often sent to her. This time, there were several accessories. It seemed that something strange was mixed in among them. It was a bracelet, but as soon as Lady Banka put it on, she collapsed.”

“…Was it coated with poison?”

Senjo shook her head. “That was the first thing we suspected, so we immediately removed the bracelet to check.”

However, there was no evidence that poison had been applied to the bracelet or implanted.

“And then, Lady Banka developed a fever…Lady Raven Consort, what do we do?”

What do we do…how am I supposed to know?

“I am not a doctor.”

“Isn’t there any way to cure her? Prayer, or anything… Anyway, will you please take a look at Lady Banka?”

Jusetsu weakened. What could she do even if she saw her? But, there was one thing that concerned her: the fact that Banka had a fever, just like the Saname curse.

“I can’t promise anything,” Jusetsu stood up. “For now, I will take a look at her condition.”

“Thank you very much,” Senjo prostrated herself. It was as though she was entreating a deity, and Jusetsu felt uncomfortable. Accompanied only by her escorts Onkei and Tan Kai, Jusetsu hurried to Hakkaku Palace.

At Hakkaku Palace, the moment she passed through its gates, she could feel the unsettled atmosphere. Eunuchs and palace ladies rushed back and forth in the corridors, and attendants were also going in and out of Banka’s room. When Jusetsu entered the room, she saw Banka lying on the bed. Her face was visibly red, her eyes were moist with fever, and she was panting in pain.

“The doctor left just now…he prepared some medical decoction for relieving her fever, but she seems unable to drink it.”

The elderly attendant by the side of the bed explained the situation. She was the oldest of all of Banka’s attendants. Her name was Rokujo. She was pale and trembling with agitation as she tried to calm herself down.

“Where is the bracelet?” Jusetsu asked, and one of the attendants brought a box that had been placed on the table. It contained a gold bracelet.

Gold? Even though Banka prefers silver?

Jusetsu frowned as she held the box and looked at the bracelet.

This is…

These kinds of things were immediately recognizable. Just like the time with Senjo.

“This is a cursed item.”

The attendants in the room gasped or let out faint screams.

“W-What does that mean, Lady Raven Consort?” Rokujo asked fearfully.

“A curse has been laid on this bracelet. Did you say that this was in a package sent by the Saname clan?”

“Yes—oh, but this isn’t a gift for Lady Banka.”

“What?”

“Lady Banka wrote a letter to the master saying that she wanted to be friends with a consort because she was close to her age, so perhaps this was a gift for that purpose—”

“Wait. What are you saying? By consort who’s close to her age, you don’t mean—”

“She was talking about you, Lady Raven Consort.”

Jusetsu’s gaze returned to the bracelet. “So, this was meant to be a gift for me?”

Was that why it was gold instead of silver.

“Yes. However, when Lady Banka saw the bracelet, she said that it wasn’t pretty and that it didn’t suit the Lady Raven Consort, so she decided to give you a hairpin that was presented to her and keep this bracelet as her own.”

“In other words, they were switched. This was originally supposed to be for me.”

Rokujo nodded.

The one who was supposed to be cursed was me.

This was a deadly curse. Someone was trying to kill Jusetsu. But why?

Jusetsu stared closely at the bracelet. The gold bracelet was inlaid with a milk-white gem. Where the gem was set, there was a decoration carved into it… She looked at it closely.

The carved details were in the form of a toad. The toad was holding the gem. That was what was carved.

A toad. The god that was killed by the Saname…

Jusetsu peeled off the sheeting of the box that contained the bracelet. A curse talisman was pasted to the bottom of the box. The handwriting was familiar. Curses were difficult to grasp as individual characters, the flow of the brush, the way the ink blurred, and the sweeping strokes and upward turns all reflected the idiosyncrasies of the writer, just as in the case of characters. The handwriting was very similar to the talisman used to curse Senjo.

Banka muttered something, and Jusetsu leaned in closer to listen.

“…I’m sure, it’s…Hakurai…”

“Hakurai? Are you saying that this curse is the work of Hakurai?”

Banka nodded slightly.

“I…hate…that man…”

She wrung out her voice under her labored breathing.

“He…cozied up…to Father…” Banka said, sounding half-delirious.

Hakurai—the founder of the Eight Truths. He tried to curse Jusetsu, the Raven Consort.

Could Senjo’s curse also be…

What if, apart from the purpose of cursing Senjo, there was some other intention, such as testing the power of the Raven Consort, or harassing her?

“Lady Raven Consort, what do we do?” Rokujo asked weakly.

“…I will break the curse.”

The attendants let out cries of relief and astonishment. Jusetsu asked them to leave the room and was left alone with Banka. She placed the bracelet and the box side by side on the table and stared at them.

A toad spell.

She remembered hearing about that. It was a spell used by sorcerers. The items they used, such as toads, snakes, and poisonous insects, differed depending on the person. The bracelet was adorned with a toad and a grayish-white stone, which was said to be obtained from the head of a frog. It was called a toad stone.

According to one theory, silver was made from condensed moonlight, and gold was made from concentrated sunlight. Wulian Niangniang, who was Yeyoushen, was weak against light. Was this bracelet gold because of that?

Jusetsu glanced at Banka. Her face was hot, and sweat beaded her forehead and neck. Her breaths were fast and shallow. She wiped her sweat with the handkerchief placed by her side. Banka opened her eyes slightly and tried to look at Jusetsu with unfocused eyes. Lady Raven Consort, she seemed to say with a hoarse voice.

“No need to worry. I’ll break the curse,” Jusetsu told her. She didn’t know if Banka heard her or not, but she knitted her brow slightly and closed her eyes.

Jusetsu pulled out a peony from her hair. Whether it was a toad or snake, these curses could be broken by breaking the curse tool.

The flower transformed into pale red smoke that drifted in the air. She drew it close with her fingers, manipulated it, and shaped it into an arrow. Jusetsu grabbed it and aimed it at the toad stone on the bracelet. She swung down all at once. The arrowhead shattered the toad stone—or at least, it was supposed to.

“!”

The moment the arrow hit the stone, the arrowhead slowly unraveled and disappeared as though it was being sucked in.

“…This is…”

The same thing happened with the Owl.

What does this mean? At that time, if I remember correctly…

It’s pointless to fight with your own family. If you’re going to fight, use a toribe.

Yes, that was what the Owl told her.

Jusetsu scrutinized the bracelet. She was able to return the curse cast on Senjo. Why couldn’t this spell be broken? A toad spell. Toad. The same as the god who cursed the Sanames.

“…I need the power of a god?”

The Sanames were cursed. At the same time, they possessed a sacred treasure. An orb that held the power of a god.

I can also use that.

Jusetsu glared at the bracelet, but raised her head and ran to the lattice window. She opened the lattice. The starry darkness was spreading.

Which way was Yamei Palace? Jusetsu looked around. It didn’t matter. She was calling it anyway. The answer was given to her by the Owl.

“Sumaru!”

Jusetsu’s sharp voice resounded in the darkness. What felt like an incredibly long time passed before she heard the flapping of wings.

The flapping of its wings and its raspy cries tore through the silence. White spots appeared in the darkness. Brown wings. Jusetsu stretched out her arm. The spotted woodpecker flapped its wings restlessly as it descended and perched on her arm. Its claws dug into her arm, and Jusetsu’s face twisted a little in pain. However, this wasn’t the time to complain.

“Sumaru, give me one of your feathers.”

The spotted woodpecker let out a cry, as if giving permission, and Jusetsu plucked out one feather from its wings. When she shook her arm, the spotted woodpecker flew away. The feather transformed into a double-edged sword. The shining brown blade was dotted with white spots like stars. Jusetsu slashed through the air with the sword, making a light whoosh sound.

Jusetsu stood in front of the table. She looked at the gold bracelet and raised her sword. She swung it down with all her might.

The blade made a hard, sharp sound. She felt some resistance pushing her hand back. A gray-brown smoke began to disperse from the toad stone. It enveloped the bracelet, as though to protect it. Jusetsu dug her heels in and pushed the sword down with even more force. There was a sensation like breaking through a membrane. She heard water splashing furiously. A deafening, piercing, and unpleasant cry resounded.

The voice lingered for a long time, but gradually became quieter and thinner, and then finally faded away. She looked and found the smoke had disappeared, the stone was shattered, and the bracelet was broken in half. As she looked on, the bracelet crumbled like ashes.

Silence returned. Jusetsu let out a breath.

She heard a knock on the door.

“Lady Raven Consort, what was that sound just now…?”

It was Rokujo. “You may come in now,” Jusetsu said. The door opened, and the attendants nervously entered. Rokujo was the first to run to Banka’s bed.

“Her fever…!”

She touched Banka’s forehead in surprise. Banka’s complexion had returned to normal, and her breathing became regular and calm. She was sleeping well.

“Lady Raven Consort,” all the attendants knelt before Jusetsu. They were prostrating themselves as though worshiping a god. “Thank you very much, Lady Raven Consort…”

“There’s no need for this. That curse was originally directed towards me.”

Jusetsu backed away at the sight of the attendants. She wasn’t a god, and she didn’t want to be worshipped.

“No…! What would have become of Lady Banka if you hadn’t been here, Lady Raven Consort?”

Rokujo began to cry, perhaps out of relief. The other attendants also began to cry or soothe each other, and the room became noisy. Jusetsu slipped out of the room quietly. Onkei and Tan Kai were waiting outside the door.

“Are you injured, Niangniang?” Onkei asked.

“No,” she responded and began walking away. She was exhausted. The moment she exited the gate, she staggered. Onkei and Tan Kai held out their arms at the same time to support her, so she didn’t collapse to the ground.

“I shall carry you on my back.”

Onkei turned his back to her and knelt down. Under normal circumstances, she would have refused, but right now she found it too exhausting to even open her mouth, so she silently entrusted her body to his back.

Why did the leader of the Eight Truths, Hakurai, try to kill me?

The Owl, who also tried to kill her, didn’t hold a grudge against her. He only tried to kill her out of necessity.

But, this curse was different. There was a clear intention to have her “die painfully.”

The depths of her heart went cold.

Am I hated?

Is it because I’m despised?

When those thoughts crossed her mind, her heart trembled, and she couldn’t move. She no longer knew what to do. And she didn’t even know if it was her own heart that was trembling with fear, or if it was the Raven’s.

I don’t know anything.

Jusetsu felt like she was still that child cowering in the darkness of night. There was no one to point the way. Reijou raised her so that she could walk on her own two feet, require no one’s help, and never need to ask for anyone’s help. That was who the Raven Consort was, after all. Jusetsu had also intended to live her life without asking for anyone’s help.

However—.

In the darkness, she felt the warmth of Onkei’s back, and for the first time, she wanted to cry out from the bottom of her heart for someone to help her.

Shiki was led down a hall in the Un mansion. Instead of sitting in the chair offered to him, he waited for Un Eitoku. The soldier escorting him was waiting outside the door.

The room was very modest. The desk and cabinet were probably made out of good-quality rosewood, but they weren’t painted with expensive black lacquer or decorated with mother-of-pearl. The blue-and-white porcelain vase on the stand didn’t seem to be too expensive.

It wasn’t all that surprising. One could tell by Eitoku’s appearance that he didn’t like extravagance. The room was clean, but not luxurious. Perhaps that was what it meant to be a distinguished family.

After making him wait long enough to fully examine the furnishings in the room, Eitoku arrived. He threw a cool glance at Shiki. At times like this, Shiki always felt like he had been stripped naked. People of distinguished families always looked at him like he had nothing. It was probably subconscious. That was why it showed in his glance.

“Sit,” Eitoku told him after sitting down himself.

“No, I shall remain standing.”

Shiki could have obeyed him without any protest, but he stubbornly refused. His Majesty never looked at me like this. He simply looked at Shiki with a transparent, colorless gaze. That was why Shiki served him. Koushun never broke his polite demeanour even for someone like Shiki, but possessed a dignified and noble manner.

“So,” Eitoku cast a sharp glance at Shiki, who was still standing. “What sort of business is so urgent that you need to meet with me at this hour?”

“I am here at His Majesty’s command.”

Eitoku’s mustache fluttered. “His Majesty, you say. What kind of order is it?”

“I understand that you have been patronizing a silk merchant from Ga Province lately.”

“His wares are good. That is all. –Ga Province is associated with the Sanames, though. Could it be that His Majesty thinks that I’m working with the Sanames and plotting a rebellion?”

Saying this frankly, Eitoku laughed, while Shiki stared at his face without smiling. Eitoku grimaced, looking displeased.

“Speak your business now. But even if you say you’re dragging me before His Majesty on suspicion of treason, I won’t believe you. His Majesty isn’t such a fool. Now, tell me what you want. This is no time to vague.”

Eitoku’s voice held the confidence and composure that had supported Koushun for many years. It was a calmness that came from trust of Koushun’s intelligence.

That finally brought a soft smile to Shiki’s lips. “I feel the same way.”

Eitoku looked puzzled.

“I apologize for doing something so audacious as testing you. His Majesty has charged me with giving you a message. ‘Tell Reiko Shiki everything you can find out and use it.’”

Eitoku’s eyes widened.

“Please let me know how I can help you. I will do my best.”

“—Has His Majesty noticed?”

“Just as you said earlier, His Majesty is no fool. His Majesty knows you well, just as you know him well. You were investigating the silk merchant from Ga Province under the pretense of being swayed by him. You used your ‘ears’ in the inner palace to investigate the Sanames.”

Shiki took a step toward Eitoku and lowered his voice.

“What His Majesty wants to know most of all is who is working with the Eight Truths. –It’s not Saname Chouyou, right?”

Eitoku looked in Shiki’s eyes and nodded firmly.

The copper banners were shattered. Hakurai, who was standing in the center of the room, let out a groan and crouched down, covering his left eye.

The toad spell was broken.

I can’t believe it. Does she still have that much power left? That was a spell that borrowed the power of a divine treasure—.

There was a burning pain in the left half of his face. A lukewarm liquid overflowed from between his fingers. Blood dripped onto his clothes and the floor.

Groaning, Hakurai groped around in his pocket. The divine treasure he took out—the Twilight Orb—was shattered into pieces. In Hakurai’s palm, it turned into dust and vanished.

How stupid.

Hakurai pressed his handkerchief against his left eye and stumbled out the door. The main house was noisy. He could see torches burning. Hakurai put his hand on the wall and staggered on unsteady legs down the corridor toward the main house.

Someone was talking. It was—the voice of this mansion’s owner. It was the Saname elder’s voice.

“What are you trying to do, Chouyou! Pointing a blade at me—at me!”

Hakurai turned the corner of the corridor and appeared in front of the main house. Standing in front of the door was the master in his nightwear and a man facing him. The man was in his forties with sharp features. He was accompanied by his retainers, who were holding torches behind him.

He was the head of the Saname clan, Chouyou.

“Do you think you can talk your way out of this, Uncle? I understand that you were trying to infiltrate the Un clan by sending your own man to the capital, and that you were scheming to regain your own vested rights as well.”

“So what? I’m the Saname elder.”

Chouyou looked coldly at his uncle, who didn’t even attempt to make an excuse for himself.

“Yes. The Sanames take care of their elderly. It is precisely because we respect you as our elder that we have turned a blind eye to you until now.”

Chouyou let out a somewhat theatrical sigh.

“Have you forgotten in your old age what you did during the time of the empress dowager, conspiring with the worthless chief official of Ga Province, who bought his position with money? You falsified the profits of the domain, put it all in your own pockets, bribed the chief official to turn a blind eye, and poisoned my subordinate who tried to inform the central government of your wrongdoings. When the empress dowager was overthrown and the chief official dismissed, you came crying to me when you found yourself in a dire position. If the matter came to light, not only you, but the Saname would also not be able to escape punishment, so I dealt with the aftermath and protected you. All I asked you to do was to never leave the mansion. And yet you’re still dissatisfied with that?”

Chouyou gave his uncle a chilling look. His uncle turned pale. His gray hair was disheveled, and there was no longer a shred of the Saname dignity in him. He staggered back, but perhaps because of his weak knees, which he hurt on a regular basis due to his age, he fell onto his behind.

“I…I simply wanted to fulfill Saname’s earnest wish! To gather strength and return to Kakami! That is all. You also understand, don’t you?”

The old Saname elder looked up at Chouyou as though pleading. Chouyou simply looked down at him coldly.

“You have never thought about the Saname. You’re only thinking about yourself. Secretariat Un is of a different caliber than the former chief official. A paltry bribe won’t work on him. On the contrary, your contact with Secretariat Un has aroused suspicion, and your past wrongdoings will soon be revealed. That isn’t all. That deputy inspector you poisoned is now a scholar who serves the emperor. We can no longer cover things up. The Sanames will be punished. All because of you.”

Chouyou put his hand on the hilt of the sword hanging from his waist.

“I asked His Majesty to grant his forgiveness in exchange for your life. I hope at least your head will become useful to us.”

There was a flash of light.

His skill was magnificent. With a single stroke, the head detached from the torso and flew into the air. Blood spurted out. Chouyou stepped back and dodged the blood. The retainers behind him immediately rushed to the body and head and started cleaning up.

Chouyou turned his gaze to Hakurai. Hakurai was kneeling there. After Chouyou looked down at him fixedly, he said, “You must leave Ga Province.” It was an order of exile.

“Yes,” Hakurai answered obediently.

“…Did you injure your eye?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll let you receive treatment for it, at least. Bring him to the mansion and call for the doctor.”

A servant approached. Hakurai called out to Chouyou’s back as he was about to leave.

“Injou is in the detached house. A little girl is there. She will come with me as well.”

Chouyou turned around and looked at Hakurai briefly, then motioned to one of his servants.

“You should learn from this and stop this sect leader nonsense.”

After saying that, Chouyou left for good. Hakurai watched him intently as he disappeared into the darkness.

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#koukyuu no karasu #koukyuu no karasu 3 #shirakawa kouko #translations #raven of the inner palace

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