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#claudia is a full person
This may be my personal reading but I think Claudia very deliberately riled up Lestat in that chess scene so she could expose everything to Louis and get him to leave with her. I never saw Claudia for one second believing anything Lestat promised, but she likely went along with letting Lestat back in cause she knew that Louis needed to be shown without a doubt that Lestat was full of shit before he would actually agree to leave. Cause in that first chess scene its not like Lestat is saying anything provocative or aggressive towards anyone, for all we know, he's playing his part really well yet she pokes at him with very sensitive jabs (Nicki) to get him to expose himself, which he does and that helps to push Louis closer to leaving. She knows at this point Lestat isn't thinking about her much more than as a means to keep Louis so she turns that against him as now she becomes the means to get Louis away from Lestat.
I always wondered why in those 6 years did she not leave NOLA? We see that Louis is physically perfectly fine by year 3. She must've known with the non-stop gifts from Lestat it was only a matter of time before Louis was worn down.
im gonna push back on this hard. i want you to know that i’m not like mad or angry or shutting you down. im just VERY passionate about children especially black children.
before i get into it we do not see a louis who is perfectly fine ever. there is not a single episode when louis is in anyway stable. this is a assertion that does not take into account the beast of PTSD. that shit showed up with flashbacks in Dubai. He was not okay. and Claudia knew that.
also before i get to whats really driving me to push back. we are disagreeing in Lestat playing his part well. Louis is in love and bonded (the real actual definition of trauma bonded, not like how its been wildly misinterpreted) to lestat. He is not going along with this because Lestat is playing his part well. He is manipulating Louis. He is trying to manipulate Claudia. Lestat is the one who broke their relationship it does not matter that he’s not being provocative or aggressive in this scene. the last ten or so minutes ep 5 is enough of a reason for her to NEVER trust him again. What does it say that ANYONE should expect her to over look that alone and play nice because in this moment he’s not doing anything that is a take i cannot and will not agree with.
but ep 5 is not a stand alone. he been provocative and aggressive from the beginning.
but im gonna have to push back on something that has been bothering me. Claudia is not without emotion. and she is not without feeling. in fact locked up at fourteen she is MADE UP of emotion and feeling. she is NOT just a plotting monster. i thought i challenged this take enough in my rewatch but imma have to get into it more. maybe she doesnt feel the ramifications of her actions. maybe she isnt burdened by guilt bc of her age. maybe shes more ruthless bc of her age. why should i not attribute emotion to that. this is where i think ppl like to refuse the full breath of children’s humanity. kids seek nurture and care. they’ll do anything for it. they don’t have an full understanding of everything. but they are not these unfeeling cold monsters that just go about being destructive and not caring. a friend of mine told me onetime he took i think it was a jelly fish or something from the sea and put it in the bathwater bc he wanted to keep it. he didnt understand that would kill it. when it died he was so fucking anguished he cried for the rest of the day especially when his parents told him it happened bc he put it in the bath. that it belongs in the sea.
he didnt do that bc children are cruel monsters. he did that because he didnt understand the variety of life and the particular needs of that animal. but he is full of emotion. it was love that made him pick up that animal. it was love that made him want to keep it. it was love that crushed him when he found out what he had done.
now. i see to much that y’all wanna only allow the monster piece in claudia and it drives me up the wall. and her childhood is often used agaisnt her. shes more of a monster bc she didnt get to live a full life she let go of her humanity bc she didnt have all the years of humanity loustat did. except she had 14 years of humanity. in 14 years she lived a life. and i refuse to take that away from her. she is angry!! she is angry and sad and lonely and frustrated and isolated and alienated and reaching for connection and she is time and again denied her personhood. That is the humanity in her. she also fed the fuck up!!! and how she chooses to go about getting her ass out of there does not take away her humanity.
she is also curious. she also is loving and wants love in return. she is also nurturing and wants to be nurtured back. she is also gentle and wants gentleness back. ALL of this drives her ruthlessness for fighting back. her ruthlessness for killing. her ruthlessness for surviving. and her ruthless for doing what needs to be done to get out.
she also dragged louis out to algiers bc she loves him. bc it hurts her to see him. why do you think they included that little walk where they were talking about Emily Dickinson? they were happy. they weren’t perfectly fine. but they were happy. they were relaxed. they were at peace. they were each others. they werent constantly under the threat of abuse and mistreatment and fear. Louis traded that for his relationship with Lestat. I can understand why he did that and also stand with her on her anger about that. that fucking HHURTS! it hurts children when the abuser comes back home. it hurts them. she was hurt. so no i dont agree that she just did that to plot against them. hating and loving are often times not mutually exclusive. sometimes you hate because you love. and eventually with enough signs it wont get better hate can eclipse love. but thats where it was born. at least thats what i see was elevated in their relationship with the amcverse.
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kradogsrats · 21 hours
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fun fact: with only three screenshots and a trivial amount of photoshop, you can make the worst panorama ever
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talesfromthecrypts · 1 year
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Its a good thing that younger characters are played by people over 18. Its good that Ellie isn’t played by a 14 year old, that Armand isn’t played by a teenager, that Claudia was aged up and then played by a 19 year old. These practices keep minors safe, from a predatory industry and from people fudging labor law constraints. Especially on shows that are 90% night shoots where a child cannot legally work that long (like say IWTV). Its also better for the show as you have a more experienced actor, both professionally and personally. 
Film and TV productions are not like books! There are real people filming that you need to take into account when it comes to what the characters do and who you cast. Rules around the safety of minors (and ALL actors) are more important than a character being portrayed exactly as you see them in your head. The people who make your entertainment, cast and crew, are real people maybe talk about them like they are and not just dolls to make your perfect vision.
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louisdelac · 12 days
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it's like. louis attempted to tell this story to daniel the first time, broke down, and attacked him before he could finish it.
and then decades later he's convinced himself that it was leaving the story unresolved that's holding him back from living his life fully now. so he invites daniel back again. and louis is sitting poised and put together, confident in his ability to recite his history in a pretty, poignant, neat little narrative that will resolve all the guilt and yearning and emptiness inside of him. that if he can just tell a compelling, satisfying story, maybe it will actually be that, and not the life he lived through, with all the pitfalls of his own failures lurking inside.
and then season 1 ends with him once again being forced to confront that the story he wants to imagine and the life he actually lived aren't the same thing. the boundaries around his narrative are shredded and he's left exposed, and subsequently able to face his past for the first time since that original interview. and you think, you think, "well this is it. they've crossed the event horizon. there's no use hiding the truth anymore, not after it's come flooding out into the open like this"
and then season 2 opens. not only is it back to the original, practiced distance, we now have armand literally enforcing that distance. a man sitting at the table who's interjections must be disregarded, an intentional interruption to the flow of the story. he doesn't exist to aid or add detail, he exists to distract louis when he gets too deep in the story. the only time we do get louis allowing any deep truth to come out is when armand leaves the room.
it's like. louis wants a story that's true, and the truth is what he's convinced will leave him satisfied. armand wants a story that will satisfy louis, to the extent louis will accept it's true.
#genuinely THE juiciest way to tell this story#like it's SO good#there's this coy little humor behind the ep#where louis and armand are very much like 'haha okay daniel you've caught us out. you've seen behind the curtain. this is the whole truth'#meanwhile daniel's getting '8 hours on how to avoid the sun and torpedoes'#like it's a faux revelation that completely backtracks all of the progress made at the end of season 1#and even louis's (very touching) moment this episode where he tells daniel the truth#is a very digestible and ultimately non-harmful dive into his past#armand doesn't like it because it's part of a slippery slope of remembrance#but he doesn't actively get in the way of it being told because it's a revealed memory that doesn't ULTIMATELY mean that much#like i'm assuming we're all on deck as far as believing louis doesn't remember the full extent of claudia's death atm.#i could be wrong about that. but like. it is kind of the elephant in the room at the moment#so it's very much a case of armand getting to couch his own fears and attachment in 'doing the greater good for louis'#ultimately who does it serve if louis remembers everything and realizes armand's more negative role in his life?#all that will do is make him miserable. deprive him of the one person in his life who cares for him#better to have a palatable lie than a truth that could leave louis a danger to himself#('as long as you walk this earth i won't taste the fire' <- but she doesn't walk this earth and the reason why is sitting by his side)#isn't it the kinder and better thing to manufacture a world where louis can live with himself?#anyways. teehee. i missed this show so much. <3#iwtv
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raayllum · 1 year
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—Crush, Richard Siken
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demigodofhoolemere · 2 years
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Showing Primeval to my dad and we reached 1x06. Never gonna be over this finale and the way the last minute hit me like a freight train 😭
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cinnamonest · 2 months
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I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.
I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.
The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:
Most women have rape fantasies.
62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!
The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)
To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:
the "go to therapy!" line
Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)
Here are some particularly insightful resources:
1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.
2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).
3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)
4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.
5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.
the "why would you want that?" line
The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.
the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line
On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.
The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.
No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.
ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.
Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:
(X) (X)
The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth
Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.
The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:
1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)
2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.
What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).
Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.
You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months
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screaming underwater
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barça x teen reader. r is dealing with mistreatment on her national team. the barça girls find out. warnings: descriptions of aforementioned mistreatment by national team.
------
The news came out of nowhere. One minute, Alexia, Pina, Patri, and Mapi were at a restaurant eating lunch, and the next, Pina was staring at her phone in horror, all the color drained out of her face. 
“Clau? What’s up?” Patri asked, catching the look on her best friend’s face. This halted the conversation between the other 2 girls, and Alexia and Mapi both turned to their younger teammate in concern. 
Claudia shook her head, remaining silent as she handed her phone to Patri, standing up and leaving the table. 
“I need some air,” she said shakily. Alexia and Mapi exchanged looks, focusing their attention back on Patri for the moment. Patri had a rather similar reaction to Pina’s, practically shoving the phone into Mapi’s hand, and taking off towards the door her best friend had left through. 
“My god. Mapi, let me see.” Alexia complained, moving over so she could read over Mapi’s shoulder. 
She read the whole article, finishing just after Mapi did. The defender was looking up at her captain, distraught. 
“Fuck.” Alexia said. “Shit. Okay. We’ll go find Clau and Patri, and then we’ll call pequeña.” 
Alexia was always a voice of reason, and Mapi nodded gratefully, rising to her feet, throwing some cash on the table, and heading out of the restaurant. 
There was no longer any question of why her teammates had reacted the way they did. The contents of that article felt eerily similar. And if they were true, they had a lot to be worried about. 
-----
You’d finished your morning training session, pulling out your phone the minute you returned to your hotel room, and saw the article. First, though, you had to scroll through the messages upon messages from your teammates expressing their concern. You didn’t spend too long reading those, knowing it would likely be too much for you right now. 
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been; there were a lot of details omitted, some of the more worrying details. Still, it was more than the people in charge would want leaked to the media, especially when it painted them as the villains. 
In short, the article detailed, via anonymous interviews with some of your teammates, the conditions that your u23 national team was under. Your coach was vile, the training staff always following his lead. There were recovery specialists that many of you guys refused to work with. The personnel themselves were an issue. More than that, though, what they did was the biggest problem. The team hadn’t been performing very well, and as a consequence, you and your teammates were being worked half to death. Running until you dropped, scrimmaging until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. You were woken early in the morning for extra workouts, and kept up late to go over film. It was constant, exhausting, and completely demoralizing. The way you were spoken too was no better than what your body was being put through. Your coach had apparently decided that the right way to motivate the team was to rip everyone to shreds. He hurled cruel insults at you and your teammates. He didn’t just go after your playing abilities; he went after your fitness, your weight, your personal life, your personality, your appearance, your relationships within the team. There were no boundaries. There was no way to say no, no way to make it stop. 
You were determined to handle it. You didn’t know any different when it came to your national team. Granted, it had never been this bad before, not in all your time with the team. You wanted it handled internally. You saw what your Spanish teammates went through when they tried to make a change, and their suffering wasn’t something you were willing to bring upon yourself and your teammates. You guys were all young, under the age of 23. If your Spanish teammates that were full adults couldn’t do it without winning a world cup, what chance did a bunch of kids have? No one would listen, it would only make it worse. Although, somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were suffering far more than you would be if you refused your call up. You didn’t give up, and you didn't ask for help. You’d never had the ability to do so, always wanting to be independent. International breaks became something you dreaded deeply, and something you attended all the same. It was a stagnant, constant torture, constant weight on your shoulders. Nothing really seemed like it would cause a change. 
Until the article was published. 
You didn’t know who’d spoken to the journalist, but you didn’t fault them. Though you’d never admit it, you were secretly glad that someone had been braver than you. Still, the verbal lashing you and your teammates got later that day was borderline abusive. The following punishment was worse. Your coach led the team to the stadium, into the stands, and instructed you all to begin running the stadium steps, until he felt you’d “learned your lesson.” 
No one spoke up, no one argued. Everyone just set off with a resigned sigh. You all ran for a while. What must have been at least an hour, in the hot sun. Up and down and back up again. Until the world was spinning around you, and even though everyone asked for a water break, one was not given. You all kept going. 
You went until you dropped, literally. Until you missed a step, fell forward, and smashed your head on the seat next to you. The pain in your whole body ceased, briefly, before it erupted again in your head, and then everything went black. 
-----
At least you could leave early without seeming like a coward. No one could argue against the decision the team doctors had come to; you had a large gash on your forehead that needed stitches, a black eye, and a mild concussion. Your coach sneered at you, but dismissed you all the same, leaving you with a warning to remember to keep the team’s best interest in mind. You knew this meant that he expected you to remain silent, as you had been until this point. You planned to. What you didn’t necessarily plan for was your club teammates. You should have considered them, but you didn’t. That was your second mistake. The first was barely responding to anyone’s texts and calls after the article was published. You didn’t even tell anyone you were going home. Deciding the medical announcement from the team would be enough, you boarded your flight to Barcelona, completely ignoring the flood of messages you were receiving. 
You just wanted to go home. Lay in your bed where you were safe, and far from the people that seemed hell bent on making your life a living hell several weeks out of the year. You didn’t want to talk, you didn’t want to see anyone. You ignored the multitude of texts from Pina, Patri, Mapi, Alexia, and Marta, asking you if you needed a ride home from the airport. You Ubered home from the airport instead, barely making it through your door before you tossed your bag aside and collapsed into your bed. 
In order to avoid a break in from your teammates, you pulled your phone out before you fell asleep, opening your text thread with Alexia. 
Nena, I saw the article. Call me.
Are you okay?
Please respond, nena, we’re really worried about you.
Jona called, I heard about your injury. Are you okay?
When are you coming home?
When does your flight land?
Nena, please. Just message something to let me know you got home okay. 
You sighed. You didn’t want to talk. Talking would only make it worse, you were sure. It hadn’t been that bad, not really. It was normal, a little harsh, but the team had been playing so poorly, what did you all expect? Rationalizing it was all you could do, really. 
Hola Capi. I’m okay, I’m home now. Everything is fine, really. Don’t worry. 
Alexia responded barely a minute after you’d hit send. 
Okay, nena. If you need to talk, we’re all around for you, okay? Please, please call me if you need me, for anything. We can talk more tomorrow when you come for your medical eval. It’s at 9am and Mapi and I have media stuff then, but Pina and Patri are going to pick you up. Rest a lot, I’ll see you tomorrow. 
Even though you were comfortably curled up in bed, incredibly sleep deprived, and concussed, you couldn’t fall asleep right away. You were rather busy trying to figure out how to act tomorrow. You felt so… weighed down from everything that had happened. You looked in the mirror barely recognizing yourself, and it had nothing to do with your injuries. You didn’t feel like you. You felt like the empty version of yourself that always returned from national duty, but 10x worse. You didn’t think you could smile if you tried. Convincing your teammates that you were okay was going to take a lot of energy that you simply didn’t have. You couldn’t do it, you were too exhausted, in the very core of your being. You fell into a fitful sleep, setting your alarm for the next morning even though it was only early evening and you hadn’t eaten anything. You weren’t sure how to act, or how to play this. All you knew was that letting anyone see how badly you were hurting was not an option. 
-----
Your car ride to the Barça training grounds was painfully quiet. Pina and Patri had given up all attempts at making conversation; you’d made it clear that you didn’t want to talk. Neither of them were sure what to make of you right now. Your voice was steady, your body language rigid. You had a pair of huge sunglasses on, though, and a hood tugged up over your head. Neither of them could get a good glimpse at your face, to check on your injuries, or to see how you were really feeling. They supposed this was the point. Their worry only grew when you caught Patri’s arm before heading to the medical center. Her and Pina were headed for the locker room, but they both stopped in their tracks, looking back at you. 
You wanted to thank them. Not just for picking you up, but for bringing you coffee and a granola bar, and the comforting way they both squeezed your hand when they saw you. 
“Thanks for driving me. I really appreciate it.” You said softly. You never spoke quietly; you were incapable of doing so, normally. Today, however, both girls had to lean in to hear what you were saying. 
“Of course.” Patri replied. Your eyes fell back to the floor underneath you, and you headed off without another word, leaving two very concerned teammates in your wake. 
Patri stopped Pina just before walking into the locker room, very suddenly pulling the younger girl into a tight hug and not letting go. 
“Patri. Why are you suffocating me?” Claudia asked after a minute. 
The midfielder didn’t let up. “She’s acting like you did. After the last international break. I really don’t like it.” She explained. 
Claudia pulled away, shaking her head. She didn’t like to think about that. “I’m fine, Patri. She’ll be fine too, yeah?” 
“Hope so.” Patri said, giving her best friend a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
-----
Alexia and Mapi knew it was just as bad as they were expecting when they saw the looks on their younger teammates' faces. They’d finished media up as fast as they could, practically running to the gym where Pina and Patri were working out. 
It only took a shake of Patri’s head for both girls to whirl around, and set off for the medical center. 
You finished your eval at around the same time. The team doctors hadn’t asked too many questions. Jona had been there when you arrived, and had asked if there was anything you’d like to talk to him about. You’d shook your head, and he’d sighed, but left the room. The doctors had received the report from your national team’s staff. They knew that you’d fallen, but that was it. Nothing that accounted for the deep exhaustion that was clear across your face, or the way you barely spoke to them. They told you the same things that your national team had, giving you a rough timeline of your return. Finally, they very obviously reminded you of the club psychologist, before telling you that you were free to go. 
You were planning on waiting around somewhere secluded until Pina and Patri were done with their workout, stopping briefly to fill your water up. Your sunglasses were back on, hood pulled back up, depriving you of your peripheral vision, not to mention your rather swollen shut eye. 
When you turned, you jumped slightly, finding Mapi and Alexia standing directly behind you, arms crossed over their chests like a pair of bodyguards. If this was their goal, they had arrived late. The damage to you was already done. You weren’t sure the scars would ever fade.
Alexia stepped closer to you slowly , as if you would startle and run away from her if she moved too fast, pulling your hood down, and reaching for your sunglasses very carefully. 
“Ay dios mio” She murmured, taking your sunglasses off your face and carefully inspecting your wounds. “How did this happen?” 
Her voice was uncharacteristically shaky and full of fear, and her eyes bore into your own, a dangerous glint to them. Mapi didn’t look any different, standing next to her captain and eyeing you very carefully. 
“Fell.” You said simply. Not completely collapsing into their arms and telling them everything was much harder than you anticipated, so you stuck to one word answers for now. 
“You fell? What, off a cliff?” Mapi asked, ignoring the elbow to the ribs she received from the blonde next to her. 
You only shrugged in response, causing both girls to exchange a look. 
“Amiga, did someone do this to you? You can tell us, I promise. We will keep you safe.” Alexia promised, words she’d been rehearsing all morning. 
“No one did anything to me, I just fell.” You reiterated, and it wasn’t technically a lie. You were getting annoyed, uncharacteristically so. You didn’t want to answer these questions, and even though it was completely unfair, you were angry at Alexia. Promising to protect you now did nothing. Nothing at all. It was too late for that. You weren’t sure you’d ever feel safe again. 
“I do not believe you. You are not clumsy, you do not fall.” Mapi cut in, her words wildly more aggressive than her tone. You didn’t respond, back to staring at your feet. “The article that came out,” 
“It’s an exaggeration. Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong, everything is fine, and I just want to go home, okay?” You spit back, showing the most emotion you had all day. 
And though everything you’d said was clearly a lie, it was also clear you weren’t ready to talk. Mapi and Alexia had already decided to back off if you didn’t want to talk right now. It could wait until later, until you were somewhere you felt safe, and somewhere much more private than the hall outside Barcelona’s gym. This wasn’t the place. 
The older girls let you go with Patri and Pina, even though all of their instincts were telling them not to let you out of their sight. You were so jumpy, so obviously terrified, they couldn’t justify making you do something you didn’t want to right now.
Alexia watched you walk away with your teammates, startling slightly when she felt Mapi wrap her arms securely around the blonde. Mapi was holding tight to her best friend, and it was no secret as to why. Alexia hugged her back, just as tight. 
“She’s acting just like all the younger girls did after the Euros. It’s happening again, to her this time, and we can’t do anything to stop it.” Mapi mumbled. 
Alexia wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t. She wanted to promise Mapi that they’d fix it, but she wasn’t sure they had the power to. Watching someone you love suffer is always hard, and this was no different.  It seemed so out of their control, and it was excruciating to watch the effects of whatever happened at that national camp wreak havoc on you, and know they couldn’t stop it. 
------
The ride home was just as quiet as the ride there had been. This time, though, the girls didn’t let you go without speaking. The tension in the car had been different this time, and you knew one of them was planning to say something. You thought it would be Patri; she was one of the captains, she was older, you were closer with her. To your surprise, it was Pina that spoke up. 
Patri had just pulled into your driveway when Pina turned around, looking hesitantly at you. Maybe it was her clear anxiety that made you listen, really listen to what she had to say. 
“I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I can tell you aren’t okay. I just wanted to say that talking about it is way less painful than keeping it all inside. Everyone wants to help you, and I know you might feel embarrassed, or like you can handle it yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. We’re all here for you, whether you want to talk, or you just need some company. Okay?” 
You could tell it had taken a lot for Pina to say all that. She didn’t talk about her experience, ever, unless it was to Mapi or Patri, and even then, she preferred to pretend it hadn’t happened. She was putting that aside for you, though, and you couldn’t ignore the significance of that. 
“Thanks Clau. Really, thank you.” You said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, before stepping out of the car. It was all you could manage right now, but you hoped it got your point across. 
It did. And even though tears welled in Claudia’s eyes on the way home, and she clung to Patri’s hand rather tightly, she was glad she’d spoken up. It was what she’d needed to hear all those months ago, and she hoped that it would make things easier for you. 
-----
You were curled up on the floor near your couch when you made the decision. Tremors were wracking your whole body, and you had been crying for so long that your chest hurt. It seemed that everything had caught up with you, but the breaking point had been the message from your national team coach, reminding you, again, to think of the team, and to stay out of the public eye until your visible injuries healed. There was no please, no thank you. It was just assumed that you’d do it. That really got you; that you’d been pliant for them for so long that they didn’t doubt that you’d go along with whatever they told you to. 
You just felt so alone, and so scared. So incredibly scared. It was this fear that had you reaching for your phone. You couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t keep it all in. You couldn’t tell another lie, and you didn’t want to. You just wanted someone to come and tell you that everything was going to be okay. You wanted someone to protect you, in the way you should have been protected this whole time. 
There were people that you trusted to do this for you, and you’d lost all the strength to deny yourself the comfort and the care you ached for. 
The phone had barely rung once before it was picked up. 
“Nena? Are you okay?” Alexia asked softly. 
“No,” you replied, your voice barely more than a sob. 
“Oh, cariño. What can I do?” 
“Come over, please. I can’t do this alone anymore.” You gasped out, wiping harshly at the tears streaming down your face. 
“I am on my way, pequeña, okay? Just sit tight, Mapi and I will be there in a few minutes.” 
“Okay,” you said miserably. You hung up the phone, curling up against the side of the couch once again, muffling your cries in the cushions next to you. It felt like you might never stop crying. 
-----
The sight that Alexia and Mapi were met with when they walked through your front door wasn’t one they ever wanted to see again. 
You were curled in on yourself on the floor, gasping and clawing at your chest as you cried, looking so panicked, and so terrified, neither of them were very confident that they’d be able to help you. Alexia was at your side in an instant, physically pushing your coffee table out of the way so she could crouch down next to you, and pull you into her arms. 
“Okay, okay. It’s alright. You are safe, nena, I promise you.” She murmured, allowing you to hide your face in her neck. You were still trembling, still sobbing, when Mapi sat down next to the two of you, looking helplessly at her captain. 
You couldn’t speak, even though you kind of wanted to. You were so overwhelmed and so exhausted, the only thing keeping you from really dissolving into an irreversible state of panic being Alexia’s arms around you, and her and Mapi’s voices in your ear. 
They promised, over and over, that you’d be safe, that they’d keep you safe. You supposed the only way they’d be able to do this was if you told them everything. And even though it terrified you to do so, the thought of going back to camp next break like nothing had happened was paralyzing. 
You had to trust Alexia and Mapi. You didn’t think you’d be able to keep going if you didn’t trust them, if you didn’t let them in. You resolved to talk, to be honest, as soon as you were able. As soon as you stopped crying. You weren’t sure when that would be, honestly, because it didn’t seem like you were calming down at all. For now, you gripped Mapi’s hand, focused on the feeling of Alexia’s hand on your back, and willed yourself to be calm. They had you. They’d keep you safe. 
----- 
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onsomenewsht · 15 days
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from the vault:
But what can I say? / Rules must be obeyed
》 The Winner Takes It All, ABBA
》 Alexia Putellas x Reader
》 winner takes all [idiom]: used to say that the winner of a round will win the whole contest
No one looks puzzled when a seven-year-old boy comes rushing into Barcelona’s training centre, some even high fives him or cheers as he passes them at full speed.
Rafael is well known and loved in the building, even more for his joyful personality than for the last name he wears on the back of his jersey.
The kid turns a sharp line to join the team outside. Despite his short legs and his clumsiness in most situations, he has quite control of his footing.
The perks of being Alexia Putellas’ son.
“Looks like our mascotte is back”
“The best Putellas!”
The girls notice him as soon as he sprints from the doors, dribbling around some coaches without much effort, but trampling over a discharged pair of boots. The boy lands hands first on the grass. He takes his time to get up and clean his now stained jeans, quickly assessing the damage and deciding he doesn’t really care.
Jana catches the kid as he comes running once again, lifting him up with a bit more effort than the last time she saw him.
“Jaja put me down, I wanna hug mama!”
“Ouch, I’m not your favourite tia anymore?”
“No, Mapi is”
The girls close enough to hear the exchange burst out laughing, luckily for Jana’s ego and the team’s well being the said defender is not around to brag about it.
“Ohi, mi vida!”
“Mama!”
Hearing Alexia’s voice, Rafael manages to escape the girls’ affection to literally run in her open arms. The hug is emotional even just to watch, his tiny hands holding on the blonde’s neck as she keeps him as close as possible.
“I missed you, monito”
No one wants to interrupt the moment, so your arrival is the perfect distraction.
You excuse yourself and the little troublemaker for crushing the training session to everyone you meet on your path. They assure you it’s fine, you two are always welcome, and today is a special one after all.
A lot of hugs and jokes are exchanged, you take your time to greet all the girls, holding more firmly the honorary daughters Alexia took under her wings ages ago. You missed them.
“My favourite Putellas!”, Claudia shouts as she crushes in your arms.
“You just said that to Rafa”
“He’s the best Putellas, you’re my favourite”
“I’m barely a Putellas anymore”
“I thought you were supposed to arrive tomorrow”, Alexia’s tone is nothing but happy for the change of plan, your boy secured in her arms and quiet for the first time in weeks.
“We were, but it’s your last training session and he wanted to be here”, you move closer, messing your son’s hair as you attempt an awkward half hug.
“Mum said we could surprise you! Are you surprised?”
“I’m surprised, monito”, everyone smiles at Alexia’s open laugh.
Rafael’s arrival completely shifted the atmosphere, somehow making it more emotional but definitely lighter. Jana has been on the verge of tears for days now, hiding behind Patri as the weight of their captain’s retirement comes crushing on them.
It’s the right thing and it’s the right time, but it doesn’t mean it is any easier.
Despite all, despite her family’s fear and her teammates’ concern, Alexia is at peace with the choice. Despite your insecurities, Alexia’s certainty when it comes to important decisions like this one still manages to reassure you.
“Can I go shoot at Cata?”, Rafael asks with his mastered puppy eyes, as you drop your gaze at his stained jeans and the Catalan studies the shoes he’s wearing.
Damn puppy eyes.
“You can go, but make sure an actual adult is there too”
“Is Mapi an actual adult?”
“No, ask Ingrid or Rolfo if they want to join”, you add.
He nods enthusiastically, sprinting away toward the bubble of players who are more than happy to welcome the kid as the training session ends on a high note. You’re sure it will be difficult to interrupt their game later.
It’s easy to notice the two of you are left alone, her teammates giving you space but mostly eager to spend more time with your son.
“He just wants to score”
“We’re working on his selfishness with the ball, I swear”
You smile at the blonde soft defence, still amazed about their bond and how considerate she has been about Rafael’s passion for football. Never pressuring, never patronising, always just as supporting as any other parent could be.
“Thank you for bringing him here, I know you’re supposed to be in London for the week and I really appreciate your support”
“Don’t even mention it, Alexia”, you reassure her, “It’s important for you and It’s important for him, I’m more than happy to support it all”
“How long are you staying?”
“Just a couple of days, but we’ll be at any ceremony, don’t worry”
Alexia mumbles unamused, pretending the presence of her family alone is not enough to make her comfortable and confident to face all the events she’s supposed to attend as a celebration of her career.
“He can stay longer, I’ll be back when it’s my turn again”
“Are you sure?”, she is not really able to hide her excitement.
The new and strange routine is just starting to feel like it’s working in the first place, even if dividing a kid between two countries and two parents who didn’t manage to save their marriage is the most painful thing you both ever experienced.
Neither of you wants to upset Rafael and destabilise him even more, or worse, make him feel unloved.
“I’m sure, he’s the winner”
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patriwoso · 10 months
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Always dancing when you’re around • Ana Maria Crnogorčević
Hidden moments with Ana whilst your relationship is hidden from the public, until it isn’t not more. This fic is requested!
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“You’ve had too much to drink.” Ana giggled as you cling onto her arms, stumbling around with a cheeky grin on your face.
“We just won the best trophy, EVER!” You exaggerate, grabbing Patri’s hand. “MVP MVP MVP.” You began to chant, the rest of the team joining in.
You hiccuped and held onto Ana’s waist to keep you stood up right. She was the sober one, not a fan of drinking, but you had taken this opportunity to drink and oh did you drink…
“Baby, I feel all fizzy.” You held onto her, sliding your arms around her waist to keep you on your feet.
“Fizzy?” She chuckled. “Y/N/N, do you mean dizzy?”
You hummed and giggled, looking up at her. “Kiss me” You bit your lip, you hands rubbing at her sides.
“That I can do.” Your girlfriend smirks, leaning down to break the height barrier and kissing you softly until you pull away for a breath of air.
“You taste like cola” You tell her, dropping your head on her chest.
Later that night you were laying in bed with Ana, you were dead to the world as you were slotted between the taller girls strong thighs, your head on her chest.
She scrolled through her Instagram feed, clicking on Claudia’s story to see a video of Patri and Cata doing shots, what Claudia didn’t realise is that she had also captured yours and Ana’s heated moment in the back of the video which had now been posted for the world to see.
And that’s where the talking started. You and Ana had almost been dating a year when the first idea of you as a couple had popped into the public eye, and the fans went crazy for it.
-
When the full time whistle blows, you shake hands with the Switzerland team. Your eyes however only looking for one person. Your person.
"Y/N!" You turn around and see Ana calling you over, stood with Mariona and Lia.
"Hey" You smile softly, just wanting to wrap your arms around the taller girl and tell her how sorry you are.
Spain beat Switzerland 5-1 to advance to the quater finals. You were happy for your team but the feeling was bittersweet as you knocked your girlfriend out of the tournament.
"I'm sorry." You smile sadly with a few tears pricking in your eyes, you didn't like to see Ana sad and knowing you scored 2 against her makes it worse.
"Don't be sorry my love." She puts an arm around you and you hug her gently, being careful with your actions as your relationship is well and truly kept out of the public eye.
You tug on the bottom of her jersey as you pull away from each other. "Can we swap?"
"Of course!" She smiles through her tears, pulling her shirt off and swapping with you.
You keep control of yourself to not look at her with the eyes that are kept away from the rest of the world. Mariona nudged you and giggled when she saw you trying hard to look away from Ana's body.
"I wish we didn't have to do that." You frown, looking at her sad eyes. "I just want to hug you so bad right now." You breathe out.
"Me too, but not here, love." Ana looks at you with her loving eyes, the ones filled with adoration saved especially for you. "I'll find you inside." she promises.
You nod as you continue to chat for a while, until Alexia comes over and tells you that the national team staff have asked for everyone to come into the changing room to get ready to head back to the hotel as you had a flight to catch.
-
Once you'd changed back into your travel wear you put Ana's jersey into your own bag to keep it with you so it wasn't to get lost with the luggage for the kitman.
You waited outside the Swiss changing room with Mariona, turning your head everytime the door opened.
Finally Ana emerged alongside a few of her teammates that you didn't know too well. She told them that they should go off ahead and that she would catch them up, wanted a few minutes with her 'club teammates'.
Mariona turned her back to keep watch for Vilda or any of the other spanish staff that would put an end to the meeting.
"I love you so much." You whispered as Ana held you close, rubbing her hands up your sides as she kissed you softly. "Keep messaging me everyday, even when you go back to Switzerland?" You ask, holding her hands in yours and fiddling with her ring, the ring you have the matching bracelet too.
"I'll message you everyday sweetheart." She kissed your forehead. "Go show the world what a true star you are yeh? I've seen the running for Golden boot. Your in the lead." She smirks. "I want the trophy on the shelf above the bed. Next to the photo of us on the beach."
"I'll try my hardest." You nod, going on tiptoes again to kiss her, melting into each others touch but being broken apart when Mariona coughs, the signal to tell you to split because someone was close by.
Ana presses one more kiss onto your mouth. "I could kiss you forever." She whispers. "I'll see you soon."
-
On the bus to the airport you sit besides Mariona. You could say you were best friends but she was more like your sister.
"What's the address for the base camp hotel?" You lift your head up from her shoulder.
"Um, it's on my phone somewhere. Sent it to Laia the other day. Why?"
"Ana just asked. Said she wants to send something." You shrug your shoulders a little to say you didn't know much more than that. "Can you send her it from yours?"
She nods.
"Thank you."
You rest your head back onto her shoulder and scroll through social media.
Someone had been keen to spying out the events between you and Ana after the game as photos and videos had made it to Twitter already.
Under a photo of you swapping shirts there were loads of comments saying 'Aww' and 'Barca friends!' but a few fans weren't silly and they knew what they were looking at.
One comment said: 'Reason 1482 to why I think they're dating! Watch Mariona giggling at Y/N when Ana takes off her shirt!🤣'
You smirked to yourself and slipped your phone away, trying to get a bit of sleep before the plane ride.
-
Why Ana wanted the team hotel address all came clear a few days later when a parcel turned up for you.
"Y/N, a package!" Vilda calls you over after a training session, handing you the brown box.
"Thank you."
You take the box up to your room and put it on the bed. "What did you order?" Mariona asks, laying on her bed in your shared room.
"Nothing" You tell her, using a pen to stabbed at the tape to open it up. "I think it's from Ana."
You open the box to see one of her hoodies, one she took back from you after you'd 'borrowed' it from her in the first place. You smile as you lift it up and put it onto the bed, seeing her Barca shorts from a few seasons back with '18' on the leg of them. She knew you loved to wear her old Barca stuff around the apartment and for bed sometimes.
You find a beaded bracelet with the letter of your name on, another with an A too. A small note telling you that she has the matching ones.
"You two make me sick, your so soppy." Mariona teases, flopping back the bed.
Rummaging through your bag you pull out your phone and try to call her. It goes to answer phone a few times then you realise she must still be travelling home to Switzerland.
Instead, you decide to leave her a message.
You
I love you Ana. Call me when you land, I miss your voice. ❤️
-
Spain get knocked out by the Netherlands and your on your flight home when you see the message you’ve been waiting for pop up on your phone.
Ana 👅👅
Flying back to Barca tomorrow morning babygirl, I’ll crash at yours and pick you up from airport xx
You giggle at the name of her contact, remembering when she had changed the name one evening on the bus home from an away game. You hadn’t changed it back.
-
The day after you arrive back in Spain, Ana packs your bags and takes you out for the day. All secrets. That’s what she told you.
She drives down the main road and you wonder where you are going to, she only told you it was a trip. The beach? A night further down the coast line of Spain?
“The airport.” You look at her, half excited and half very confused.
“I’m taking you away for a trip to my home. For our anniversary.” She smiles, looking very incredibly pleased with herself.
“Switzerland?!” You gasp a little, having wanted to visit Ana’s home country for so long.
-
The plane ride dragged a little, having only been home for less than 24 hours.
You got through customs and collected your bags, deciding to get a coffee to help keep you awake.
“Here” You pass Ana her coffee, taking a sip of yours before screwing your face up. “Oh my god, that’s fucking rank.” You whisper, keeping your voice down with the language you chose to use.
Ana chuckled, taking your coffee and switching it with hers. “Have this one.”
“Thank you, bebita” You used the spanish pet name she loved so much.
You stared into her eyes a little too long and you were snapped out of it when two teen girls came rushing over.
“Hi! We are big Barcelona fans, could we get a picture?” The tallest girl asks.
“Your my favourite player!” The smaller girl tells you.
You take selfies with them and sign their phone case before they rush off back to wherever they appeared from.
-
Within minutes your phone was blowing up with mentions and tags on your social medias. Photos of you and Ana sharing coffee and looking at each other with loving eyes had been stuck on the internet. Typical.
Comments:
- OMG THEY’RE SO CUTE
- They are defo dating!!!!!
- Y/N is wearing Ana’s jacket!! Look 3 posts ago on her feed - it’s the same one!
- WHERE IS THIS? 😱😱
“Hmmm, they know.” Ana mumbles into your hair, her chin resting on the top of your head.
“We did well keeping it quiet for so long”
-
You trip in Switzerland was almost over, one day left before you had to fly back to Barcelona.
“I want to post something.” Ana breaks you out of your thought as you search through the suitcase to find your pyjamas.
“Post what?” You look at her, finding the shorts you were after and getting changed.
“Us.. for today, our anniversary. One year is a big deal Y/N”
You nod, looking at her. “If your okay with that then I’m cool with it too.” You smile.
Ana took her phone out and made an Instagram post with a caption:
One year with my favourite girl❤️‍🩹
In the post she attached a few photos and videos along with it.
1. A photo of you walking up ahead, climbing a mountain in Switzerland.
2. A video of you both dancing in the changing room after the champions league final. Ana had put her arms around you and forced you to dance in the middle of the locker room.
3. A photo of you both with the UWCL trophy on the pitch after the match.
4. A photo of you asleep in bed, a blanket covering you and a sleep mask with false lashes she had stuck on the top to make it look funny.
5. A video of Ana giving you a piggy back on the beach. Keira had taken this video on a double date with her and Lucy.
6. A photo of you in each others jerseys after the world cup match, Mariona and Lia stood at your sides too after they had switched as well.
7. A photo of you asleep on Ana as she tried to read a book, your head nestled into her neck.
8. A photo of you and Ana on the beach. You had your hands over your breasts, as you had stripped from you bikini top, and sunglasses on your head. Ana sat behind you and peering over your shoulder making a silly face.
9. A video of you dancing in the rain outside the stadium in Germany at your game against Bayern.
10. A picture of you both kissing in the club after the UWCL win.
You smiled as the tag came up on your Instagram feed, reposting the post onto your story with the video of you dancing in the rain.
Giggling as you wrote a cheesy caption with
‘Always dancing your around 😘’
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shares-a-vest · 4 months
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@steddielovemonth Day 1: Love is... Letting someone take care of you (Prompt by @starryeyedjanai)
wc: 722 | Rated: G | tw: the ever-present possibility of Steve vomiting, migraines
Tags: Sick Fic, Steve Has a Migraine, Caregiver Eddie
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Eddie makes his way down the hall, following the sounds of gross, loud and retching coughs, his pace quickening with each step.
Steve was supposed to meet him at the arcade an hour ago. Steve isn’t exactly the most punctual person (despite the guy always looking at his watch with a laboured sigh). He sleeps in more often than not.
But he’s never an hour late at 2 in the afternoon.
“Stevie?” he asks, just narrowly missing the doorframe as he practically spins into Steve’s bedroom.
He doesn’t wait for an answer and tiptoes towards the blanketed form that is spluttering gibberish like Steve is attempting to answer.
Eddie looks around the room, his hand hovering over Steve’s form.
The place looks about the same as usual – a little too clean for the bedroom of a twenty-year-old boy, curtains drawn like they were downstairs. Steve’s work clothes from yesterday are discarded on the floor...
Wait.
“Sweetheart,” he coos, rubbing the blanketed mass now.
The lump moves to reveal a muss of Steve’s hair, sticking on end, looking greasy and tangled at the back. Steve grumbles.
Eddie rounds the bed, hoping the other side will reveal Steve at least a little.
“So dizzy,” Steve mutters as soon as Eddie spots his flush, pained face in amongst his bedding.
His eyes roll back and close, a full-bodied grimace shaking the pile of bedding.
Eddie eases down and reaches to comb his fingers through Steve’s fringe, only to be hit with just how clammy his boyfriend is. He swoops back the sweat-caked hair, patting it down gently.
“Think I’m gonna… throw up,” Steve says clear as day and gulps.
And Eddie thinks this might be the first time he has ever seen someone’s face flush green.
“I’ll go get your bucket,” he says, earning a reedy whine in protest.
Steve doesn’t embarrass easily, but he does when it comes to his (sometimes vomit-inducing) migraines and the yellow bucket Claudia Henderson brought by after Spring Break and demanded he keep close by. It sits under the sink in the ensuite bathroom now.
Eddie makes quick work of retrieving the bucket, plus some tissues and a glass of water. There are more supplies he could do with, he thinks, but they’ll have to wait.
“Come on, Big Boy,” he says, tugging at the covers, “Time to sit up.”
Steve moves at a snail’s pace to get himself untangled from his cocoon and sit upright. The blankets eventually fall away to reveal a flush, bare chest.
“You naked under there?” Eddie teases.
“Clothes sting,” is all Steve says as he swings his legs around with a monumental effort to hang off the side of the bed.
“Feet on the carpet, sweetheart,” Eddie instructs, placing the bucket in his lap and spotting it with his own hands.
“I’s gross,” Steve mutters, head falling into the receptacle, his voice echoing in its (so far) emptiness, “Go... away.”
He sways a little as if those limited, broken words were too much. Eddie wraps his free hand around his boyfriend’s middle.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he begins, “And you are not gross. You need help. I’m here now.”
He soothes his hand up Steve’s back, feeling him relax a touch.
“O-okay,” Steve hiccups, a tear falling onto his cheek.
“I’m here to look after you,” Eddie reassures, his voice barely above a whisper, “And I’ll get you good enough that we can pack you up and get you over to my house. Sound good, hmm?”
Steve half-nods into his bucket before he looks up.
His eyes are glassy. Nose red. His fringe now sticking to his forehead. He looks like a wreck, unkempt and sweaty. Now only a pale, pink-tinged green.
But Eddie leans forward and presses a kiss to his partner’s cheek anyway.
“Just think about your feet on the carpet, okay?” he whispers when he pulls back, “Your feet are planted on the ground – balanced, steady. Focus on that for a while. It’s okay if you throw up.”
Steve huffs and nods.
“‘Kay.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Steve.”
Steve drops his head towards the bucket again and Eddie begins detangling at the damp hair at the nape of his neck.
“Thanks,” Steve rasps after a long while of silence (and him not blowing chucks everywhere), “L-Love you.”
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savagewildnerness · 2 months
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Sam Reid: such a master at, with a flicker of emotion spelling a world of words unsaid.
When we get books from Lestat’s perspective, we discover the eloquence & complexity of Lestat’s thinking & we understand the depth of his emotions. And sometimes Lestat explains how these very eloquently articulated feelings & thoughts on the page; he never actually said them aloud to someone. I think it likely that many of us here, expressing our lives & loves in written words in online spaces may relate to a difficulty doing that verbally? Well, I relate, anyway.
But for Lestat it is very different than for me. I find verbal words much harder than written ones. But Lestat has been told & shown over & over again that he is “too much” and so when he has his big thoughts & feelings, in the moment, he doesn’t know how to contain them enough when they’re important enough to actually tell them to people without the recipient finding him “too much” too.
But it’s not an easy thing, with just a look to convey fully what’s going on in Lestat’s brain when Lestat doesn’t speak the words he feels to the person he feels them to.
Here, Claudia has left; Lestat: literally “The Light” of a creature: one of the most positive beings (at least in what he puts out into the world, if not always in what he feels inside) that exists is drawn into Louis’ gloom. But he can exist in Louis’ gloom & feel increasingly hopeless & depressed himself. Lestat can carry that & wait & be there as long as Louis needs him to, because he loves Louis. But he can’t carry that Louis doesn’t seem to care about him at all.
Louis so focussed on Claudia even when she’s absent… it’s so close to yet another soul Lestat loves abandoning him; neglecting him… as everyone has in the end: from parents to lovers to Mentors to people who told him they loved him or found him extraordinary once…. And does Louis care? Lestat is here anyway, but the pain flickers as Sam shows us, even while to Louis, seeming as though he’s perhaps annoying or being flippant or superior; superficial and unconcerned about Claudia when he actually turns In Louis’ direction…
But we, the audience can see & feel the full story. Thank you Sam!
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what-even-is-thiss · 1 year
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In Rome women were often named after their fathers. For example, if their dad was named Marcus, his daughters would be named Marcia.
All of them. All of his daughters would be named Marcia.
So how did the Romans differentiate between their daughters? They would have like six Julias and number them.
Julia the first. Julia the second. Julia the third.
Basically. If your family had two girls you and your sister could very likely be referred to as Claudia 1 and Claudia 2.
Though during the imperial period sometimes children chose to incorporate their mother’s maiden name into their own full names so women got a teeny bit more recognition and differentiation as time went on.
Although Rome is often associated with an early form of individualism, who you were as a person wasn’t always super important. What was more important was what family you belonged to and what honor you brought to that family. So your personal name wasn’t nearly as important as who your parents and spouse were. There was no real need to differentiate between your children beyond that one and the other one and the boy one.
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maxsimagination · 4 months
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𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗮 - 𝗰.𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗮
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warnings: tiny angst, putellas!reader
------
"incoming!"
i only had a few seconds warning before someone crashed into me, full force, and wrapped their arms around me. i already knew who it was based on the short stature of the person and the tightness of the hug.
"hey, pina colada. what's up?"
claudia finally let me out of her embrace, but kept her hand in mine. we walked together to the covered gym on the opposite side of the pitch to join the rest of our team. training went by somewhat quickly and we finished off with a 7 v 7 match.
both me and claudia were on the same team; jona wanted us to work on pairing up to score goals since the performance at our last game resulted in three goals from us alone.
once everyone was sufficiently sweaty and tired, jona told us to have a shower and get changed because there was a meeting about our upcoming game he wanted to hold. we all traipsed back to the locker rooms, and as per normal, claudia and i were attached at the hip.
"okay everyone into the meeting room!"
again, all twenty-something people on the team filed into the room and found a seat in front of the screen that had been set up.
claudia found a seat at the front, however me being on the taller side - matching frido in height,  chose to sit on the floor in between claudia's legs. i caught the eye of my older sister, alexia, when she cocked an eyebrow at my actions with a smirk.
she was always poking fun at how close me and claudia were, never telling me outright that she thought we should be together but always insinuating something was there.
i discreetly flipped her off and got comfortable. we were halfway through the meeting when i felt claudia's fingers take through my now-loose hair. she was almost giving me a scalp massage but i knew she just liked to play with it. i leant back, my head falling into her lap as she continued to play with my hair.
finally we were allowed out of the meeting and i stood up, feeling my joints crack in the process.
everyone filed out and dispersed, most going their own ways for the day. however i stayed with claudia, and alexia joined us. we went to my car, planning on going to mine and alexia's shared apartment. "i call shotgun!" claudia yelled out and took off towards the passenger side door.
alexia only laughed and shook her head, making her way to the backseats. "i swear you're at our house more than your own, pina."
i just laughed at my best friend and sister, unlocking the vehicle and hopping in the drivers seat. we all drove home - to mine and alexia's home, claudia playing her music through the aux. when i got through the door i found the couch and flopped on it, letting out a sigh of relief.
claudia insisted we all watch a movie together, then promptly snatched the remote so she could choose what we watched. neither ale nor i minded, we were just happy to be sitting down. me more happy to have claudia happy.
alexia said she'd get us some snacks from the mini kitchen we have and left me and claudia to set up in the connected lounge. i looked across to the shorter girl sitting next to me and couldn't help but admire her. she was so engrossed in scrolling through our netflix that she didn't notice my fixed gaze.
butterflies erupted in my stomach whenever she subconsciously bit her lip or grin at a movie or series she saw. i knew there was a desire to be more than friends, but the logic part of my brain refused to accept the wanting. i didn't like the idea of risking loosing what we had between us already. claudia turned to look at me with a contagious grin. "do you wanna watch this?"
i glanced at the tv, nodding in agreement even though i had no idea what she had picked. "sure why not." claudia whipped back to the screen with excitement and i just watched with a loving smile on my face.
it was then that ale walked back into the room with an armful of snacks, placing them on the table. she picked up on my expression and its direction towards claudia, again raising her eyebrow at me. i pretended to not have noticed and tried to get comfortable.
eventually i gave up and shuffled closer to claudia. she curled up and leant into me, my arm instinctively went around her shoulders. we watched the series like that, getting through about five episodes before it was getting closer to dinner.
again, alexia said she'd cook, but yelled out for my help after a bit. "hermana, why don't you tell pina how you feel?" she spoke out of nowhere. "i don't know what you mean, ale." i could feel the blush staining my cheeks and knew that alexia would pick it up.
"come on, y/n. i see the way you look at her. and you guys are attached at the hip. and she's literally sitting in our living room right now, probably going to stay the night." i opened my mouth to argue but didn't have anything to come back with.
"i guess i just don't want to risk loosing her. what if she doesn't like me? i'd rather live with her as my best friend and hide my feelings then loose her completely." alexia hummed as she took in my words and moved about the kitchen. when she'd finished dishing up whatever she'd made, she spoke.
"i know you don't like risks but i can see that she has something more than friendship with you too. you can see it in both of your eyes. just talk to her."
she passed me mine and claudia's plates and we went back out to the girl sitting on our couch. she happily took her serving from my hands, thanking both me and alexia for feeding her. "anytime, nene."
unsurprisingly, claudia stays the night. we both head to my room, where i can't stop thinking about what ale said earlier. i hand some pjs to claudia who gladly takes them and goes to the bathroom to change.
we end up lying in my bed, side by side, when i gather up the courage to speak. "pina colada?" "yea what's up?" i take a deep breath and sit up properly. "i like you. like a lot. more than a friend." it almost comes out like a stutter, in short bursts. there was some silence and me thinking that i totally blew it, i don't have my best friend anymore, when she sits up and turns to me with wide eyes.
"really? like for real?"
"yes for real. i like you for real claudia." using her first name meant it was serious. she looked a bit shocked but slowly a smile started to grow on her face. "i like you a lot too. more than a friend." the butterflies came back to my stomach in an instant as i took in her words.
"does that mean i can kiss you?" it was bold and it came out of nowhere but thankfully the awkward silence was short lived this time as claudia leaned forward to connect our lips first.
i kissed her back until we needed to break for air. then there was cheering from the doorway. "girls please use protection and don't be too loud. i would like to sleep tonight." alexia stood in the doorway to my room with a knowing smirk on her face directed towards me.
"ale!"
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musings-of-a-rose · 4 months
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Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader
Word Count: 5700+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes: I know. We have 2 pictures and a one-sentence movie description. And yet, here I am, being a slut for this man’s characters. @rhoorl, this is for you!
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Lucien Flores Masterlist
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Great. Another dinner party. I swear my roommate is trying to kill me. 
“Come on. It'll be fun, Decaf!”
“You know I hate that nickname, right?”
Claudia chuckles, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “Then stop being so-” she gestures with her free hand “-blah.”
“Ouch.”
Claudia sighs. “You know what I mean. Ever since Dan you just haven’t been..the same.”
I stiffen at the mention of my ex’s name. “He put me through hell, Claudia.”
She nods, placing her hand back on my arm in a placating gesture. “No, of course! He was an asshole! But you shouldn’t stop living your life because of him.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling loudly. “I know that. But I just…need some time. And having a dinner party every other weekend is not helping.”
She blows a raspberry with her tongue. “You know you love my parties. Besides, they help you loosen up.”
They don’t. I pretend to drink while my friends get drunk, eventually leaving when the party gets too much to handle. It’s not that they’re mean or anything. I just don’t enjoy being the only sober person in a room full of inebriated people. 
“And besides, Marcos specifically requested your famous tiramisu for dessert!” She gives me a pointed look, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. 
“I don’t-”
“We can go shopping tonight! Maybe Marcos can come over to uh, help.” She winks at me, and that smirk finally pops up.
“I’ll make the dessert but I’m not going. I mean it this time, Claudia.”
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I sigh, looking at my reflection in the mirror as I smooth down my simple black dress. I say no and somehow I always end up going. How does she do that?
The doorbell rings and I hear the faint excited tone of Claudia welcoming someone in. I do one last quick hair check and force a smile on my face, taking a moment to look in the mirror to make sure it doesn’t look too forced before I head downstairs, closing my door behind me. 
“Decaf! There you are! Marcos is in the kitchen. Why don’t you help him with the wine he brought?” Claudia turns to put Marcos’s coat and umbrella on the coat stand, Marcos anticipating the rain that’s forecasted to come at some point.
“Wine isn’t really my-”
“There she is!” Marcos pops his head out of the kitchen, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Could you get the wine opener for me?”
Fake smile affixed, I nod. “Sure.” I follow him into the kitchen, turning to glare at Claudia over my shoulder who smiles and gestures towards Marcos before turning back to answer the next knock at the door. 
I grab the automatic wine opener from the drawer, Marcos smiling at me as I hold it up. “Thanks so much, D!” Well, at least it was better than Decaf. Even though I knew he knew where the opener was. 
“Of course. Do you remember how to work this thing?”
“I think so.” He takes the wine opener from me, gently brushing his fingers against mine in a not so subtle hint of flirting. He affixes the opener on the bottle and presses the button, watching as the electric opener does its thing.
It’s not that I don’t like Marcos. He’s attractive, nice, deep hazel eyes, and obviously likes me. He’s smart too, starting up his own bio med tech company with just an idea and a promise. I could be content with him, I guess. If it wasn’t for this odd feeling at the back of my brain about him, something I could never pinpoint exactly. Even so, I’m just not attracted to him no matter how hard I tried. And I promised myself after Dan that I wouldn’t settle just so I didn’t feel lonely anymore. 
“You look beautiful tonight, D. That dress fits you perfectly.”
I smile, knowing it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Thanks, Marcos. How’s work? The prototype coming along?”
He smiles and launches into a long winded explanation of what exactly was going on as he follows me around the kitchen, helping me set the food on the table while Claudia pours wine and passes out hors d'oeuvres for the other guests - there are about 12 of us total. He’s cute when he talks so passionately, but again I don’t feel any connection. And the feeling at the back of my brain scratches at me again, but I push it down, putting another smile on my face. 
Dinner starts, an appetizer of vegetable soup ladeled into bowls. Claudia is every bit the chef her mother is and more, making even the simplest dishes delectable. When the roast comes, a recipe passed down several generations in her family, another knock raps at the door. Claudia looks around at everyone, mentally counting before looking at me, her eyebrows raised in a are you expecting someone? Question. I shake my head, Claudia starting to push her chair back but I stand, placing my napkin on the side of my plate.
“I got it, Claud.”
Conversations resume behind me as I leave the room, walking down the hall to the front door. A quick glance out of the peephole shows me a man, silky button up shirt with a print of random brushes strokes stretching across his broad shoulders as he puts a cigarette out on the front steps, pushing his shoe into it. I slide the lock back and crack the door open, his eyes snapping up to my face and the air rushes from my lungs when I meet his gaze. Dark brown eyes bore into mine and he cocks his head slightly to the side, smiling slightly. Oh shit is he wearing two chains?
“Good evening, miss.”
Oh shit I hadn’t said a word.
“Oh. Uh, hi. Can I help you?”
He smiles a little wider, tossing his thumb over his shoulder. “My car stalled and my phone is dead. Could I come in and call someone?”
I don’t entirely believe his story, but something in his eyes makes my brain go fuzzy and a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time start between my legs. 
“S-sure. Come on in.” I open the door wider and he smiles at me, nodding as he walks past. 
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure anyone would be home. Seems a lot of people are away for the weekend.”
“Oh not really. People around here don’t actually live here. It’s their second homes.” In fact, ours was Claudia’s parent’s second home. Which is the only way I could afford a place this nice. 
“Ah. That makes sense.” We stand in the entryway, his eyes scanning my face with that little smile still playing at his lips. It’s several long moments before I realize I’m the one who should be talking. 
“Oh! Uh, can I take your coat….” It’s then I realize he doesn’t have one, not even carrying one. 
He chuckles. “I think I’m good. But thank you for the offer.” The lights hit the chains around his neck and I swallow hard, wondering what it would be like to feel those chains smack me in the face over and over and-
Laughter erupts from the dining hall and..oh shit I never asked his name. 
I tell him my name. “But you can call me D.”
“What’s that short for?”
“I…don’t want to say.”
“That bad, huh? I’ve had some bad nicknames in my time.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. But my name is Lucien.” He extends his hand and I shake it, melting internally as I feel how large his hand his, how warm, and my brain wanders away on the thot train of exactly what I want those hands to do. Another round of laughter from the dining room breaks my trance and I give my head a little shake, dropping his hand. 
“Dinner party,” I gesture down the hall towards the dining room. 
“Ah. I thought you just dressed beautifully for fun.”
I can feel the heat in my cheeks and I glance away, tucking hair behind my ear before looking back at him. “I uh…you said your phone is dead?”
“Oh. Yeah.” He pulls it from his pocket, turning it to show me the blank screen.
“I have a charger. Come, I’ll let you use it and then you can come have some food if you’d like?”
“Oh I don’t want to impose.”
“It’s no bother. Really.” I let my hand rest on his arm, giving it a small squeeze. Who even am I right now?
His eyes flick between mine before he nods. “Lead the way.”
I yell to Claudia that I’m getting my charger and she doesn’t question it, diving right back into whatever story she’s telling as I lead Lucien up the stairs. To my bedroom. What am I doing right now? Before I can think further, I’m at my door, opening the handle and crossing to my night stand, pulling the end out of my own phone and extending my hand. “Here. Let me charge it for you.”
He hesitates a moment before placing his phone in my hand. “I appreciate it, D.”
I plug in his phone and open mine. “Do you have a preferred mechanic?”
“For what?”
“Y-your car?”
“Oh! Right! Uh sure. Can I just?” He makes to grab my phone and I let him, hiding a smirk when I notice that the tips of his ears are red. He taps away at my phone and holds it up to his ear, ordering a mechanic to his car.
“Hey, what neighborhood is this?”
“Destiny Falls.”
“Destiny Falls….great…thanks.” He taps the screen and hands me back my phone. “Thanks.”
I take the phone from him, feeling his fingers touch mine, a chill running down my arm and straight between my legs. “N-no worries.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes moving down my body and back up. “You mentioned dinner?”
“Shit! Sorry! Yeah, uh this way.”
He follows me back out and down the stairs. I can feel his eyes on my ass and so I put an extra emphasis on my walk, an extra sway in my hips and I swear I hear a small groan coming from him. 
“Hhhm?” I ask.
“What? Oh, I uh, I’m hungry.”
I open the door to the dining room, Lucien following me in. Everyone turns their heads to look, Claudia’s eyes moving furiously between us both before she stands. “Who’s this, Decaf?”
I widen my eyes at her, willing her to never use that nickname again. “This is Lucien. His car broke down a couple blocks away and no one else is home. His phone died so he couldn’t call anyone. He’s going to wait here for the mechanic.”
Lucien holds up his hand. “Hi. Thank you for allowing me into your home.”
Claudia smiles, waving him up. “Of course! Are you hungry? Let me get you a plate.”
“Oh I don’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense! Decaf, could you get him a plate and a chair? Marcos, scootch down a bit and we can put Lucien’s chair at the end.”
I look over at Marcos, who’s eyes are narrowed at Lucien, a hard look in them. 
Men.
I roll my eyes and turn towards the kitchen, motioning for Lucien to follow me. “Come on. I need those hands.” It’s not until we’re in the kitchen when I realize what I said.
“So. You need my hands, doll?”
“I meant for the chair, but we’ll see if I can find another use for them.” What the fuck did I just say?
He chuckles, his eyes darkening. “I’m sure you’ll find me more than willing to help with whatever you want me for.”
Fuck, he’s looking at me and he has to know what he said. Lucien takes a few steps towards me, stepping inside the comfortable distance between strangers. Does he know that the heat between my thighs is almost unbearable at this point? I’m tempted to get him seated and go take care of myself before I get into trouble. 
“I-”
“Hey, D. Need any help?” Marcos had come through the door. I jump back, startled. Why do I feel guilty? I don’t owe Marcos anything. 
“Hey Marcos. No, I think we got it.”
“Here, Lucien. Let me show you where the spare chairs are.”
Lucien looks down at me and winks before following Marcos. “After you.” 
I make Lucien a plate of food and bring it out to the table, the conversation still moving forward. I set the plate down and go back to the kitchen to get him a drink when I hear raised voices from the back storage closet where the chairs are. I can’t make it out but they’re definitely arguing. 
Ugh, men. 
Then the storage room door pops open and Lucien exits, carrying a chair. The look on his face is hard, anger etching into his face, but then he sees me and it disappears immediately, giving me a smile. “Got the chair.”
He walks towards me as Marcos takes a moment to close the door. “Everything ok, guys?”
“We’re great, D.”
“Because it sounded like you were fighting.”
“Nope. All good.” Marcos’s voice was flat, not his normal charismatic, charming tone he uses to win everyone over. I don’t believe him but it’s not the time to press him. 
Lucien sits at the table and everyone starts asking him questions, his face animatedly answering all of them. The conversation pauses, everyone stopping to drink or eat or talk between themselves. Lucien shifts in his chair beside me, his leg brushing against mine and I gasp, trying to hide it as a small cough. But the twinkle in his eye tells me he heard me and knew exactly what I did. Not even the glare from Marcos at Lucien could ruin the mood for me. Lucien presses his leg into mine further, taking a sip of wine as he cracks a joke and everyone laughs, the ring on his pointer finger sparkling in the light from the chandelier. I can’t take it any more, the throbbing between my thighs is so intense I swear everyone can hear it. I need to get out of the room. 
“Excuse me. I’ll uh…I’ll go check on your phone.” I hastily stand, pushing my chair back. 
“Do you want help, D?” Marcos asks, halfway to standing himself.
“No! Uh, no. I can check a phone myself, thanks.” 
I walk calmly from the room, waiting until the door closes behind me before I take the stairs 2 at a time, closing my bedroom door behind me and pressing my back against it, feeling the coolness of the wood seep through my thin dress, but it does nothing to dull the ache between my legs. I sit on my bed next to my night stand, legs on the floor and put my hands over my face. Get it together. A quiet knock makes me jerk and snap my head up, moving my hands just enough to speak.
“Who is it?”
“Lucien.”
Shit.
“What can I do for you?”
“I uh, just need to check on my phone?”
Oh right.
“Come on in.”
As Lucien opens the door, I lean back slightly, placing my arms behind me and lean on them. Lucien gently closes the door and crosses the room, his pant leg brushing against my bare knee as he reaches for his phone and presses the power button, light shining in his face. I press my thighs together in what I hope is an inconspicuous manner.
“Only 15%. This phone takes forever to charge. Do you mind if I charge it a little more?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks.” He sets the phone down and turns his head to look at me, his eyes flicking to my thighs that are currently jammed together so tight even water couldn’t get through them.
“Let me help you with your problem.”
I swallow hard. “P-problem?”
“Yes. Your problem.”
“I..I don’t have…” I lose all track of what I was going to say as his eyes darken, slowly raking over my body before landing on my own darkened gaze, smirking at me. 
“I’m an excellent…helper.”
“I..I d-don’t have a p-problem.”
“No?”
I shake my head, not even convincing myself. But then my voice catches in my throat as he gets on his knees in front of me, his fingers gently swirling a random pattern across my knees and lower thighs. My skin sears where he touches me, and I can feel how soaked I’m getting. He gently wraps his hands around my knees and slowly pushes them open, the cool air not doing much to cool me down. My chest heaves as his eyes move up my legs, his gaze disappearing under my shortened dress, honing in on where I need him. 
“I think I found your problem.”
“Y-yeah?”
He slowly slides his hand up my thigh, my breath coming out in little spurts the higher he gets. His hand disappears under my dress and then I feel him, his finger sliding up the middle of me still over my underwear and my hips jolt, immediately betraying all sense of logic in my brain, the side of me that’s screaming this is a stranger!
“Good news. I can help fix your problem.”
“Y-you can?”
“Do you want me to?”
I’m still propped up on my elbows, gazing down at this man who is kneeling between my legs, hand up my dress, rubbing tiny circles into my inner thigh with the tip of his finger, his eyes nearly black with lust, my logic side screaming at me to tell him no, to tell him to stop, to play it safe.
But I’m tired of being called Decaf.
“Yes.”
He smirks, sliding his hands up further, fingers pinching the fabric of my panties before he slides them down and off, tossing them behind him without looking. He gently places my legs over his shoulders, pushing my thighs open wider with his broad shoulders. 
“Show me,” he says it calmly, but it’s also commanding and I shiver.
I grip the bottom of my dress and pull it up over my hips, exposing myself to him. His eyes move to stare at my cunt, darkening the rest of the way. He moves his fingers to spread me and I gasp at his touch as he takes me all in. 
“Fuck!” I yell out as he quickly dips his head and licks up the center of me, his tongue curling around the bundle of nerves. My thighs try to jam against his head but he is so damn broad that all they do is weakly twitch against his shoulders as he works me open with his mouth, moaning into my cunt.
“Oh shit, oh fuck, I-” words tumble from me in an incoherent jumble. I feel one of his thick fingers swirling around my entrance before he pushes it all the way in, the cool metal of his ring brushing against my skin. My mouth is open in a silent scream, but then he pulls his finger out, adding another, his head lifted to watch as he fucks me with his fingers, the lewd squelches filling the quiet room.
He moves his head back down, gently sucking on my clit and my fingers fly to his head, twisting into his beautiful curls and gripping it as I moan his name, his fingers curling inside of me, slowly stroking at that spot. I can feel myself tightening, pulsing around his fingers as he pushes me closer to the edge. But then he pulls his hand out, his mouth leaving me and I huff.
“What the fu-”
He stands, undoing the buttons on his shirt before taking it off, tossing it on the floor. He’s not 6 pack fit but he’s trim, a small tummy poking out by his pant line that I desperately want to bite. His large hands work open his pants and before I know it, he springs free, heavy and ready.
“Take off your dress.”
It takes me a moment to tear my eyes away from him, nearly ripping my dress in half in my haste to rid myself of it. I unlatch my bra too, tossing it wherever it lands. Lucien pushes my legs open, settling himself between my thighs, pressing his chest against mine. I think he’s going to say something but then all words leave my brain as he pushes inside of me, splitting me open, hand clasped over my mouth as I scream into it, hands flailing around simply because I don’t know what to do with them. He burns me slightly from the stretch but I don’t even care. He bottoms out and just sits there a few moments, his own chest heaving with self-restraint. 
Without pulling out, he thrusts further in, pressing at a spot inside of me I didn’t even know existed. A whiny yelp escapes me before his hand clamps over my mouth again, his eyes finding mine as he continues this slow assault. He tentatively removes his hand, my mouth hanging open as jolt of pleasure radiates out from my cunt with every thrust of his hips. 
“Do you want me to fuck you into this bed, doll?”
I nod frantically, my hands gripping his ass in an attempt to move him faster.
“Tell me.”
“Please. Please Lucien, fuck me into my bed I-” he clamps his hand over my mouth again, his hips picking up to a rapid pace as he fucks into me, lifting my leg over his hip to change the angle. Then he somehow gathers my flailing hands in one of his large ones, pinning them into the bed above my head as he continues to snap his hips into mine, each thrust driving me rapidly towards the edge he had already brought me to earlier. The thin chains he wore brush against my face with every thrust, and I moan into his hand. 
And then I fling myself over the edge, each thrust of his hips carrying me further and further into this bliss. I’ve never experienced this, not in this way, not this intense, rolling waves of pleasure pulsing over my entire body. I feel his hand loosen their grip, no longer over my mouth and they squeeze my hips, flipping me over so quickly my head spins slightly. I bury my face in my blankets and moan as he thrusts into me, his fingers digging into my hips as he sets a rapid pace, pushing my back down to curve my ass up further. To my surprise, I feel one of his hands snake around me, finding my clit and applying the perfect touch, perfect amount of pressure as he drives me towards the edge again at a rapid pace. He pulls me up, my back flush against his chest, his arm wrapping around me to continue touching me while the other holds my hair tightly and I come, his name gasping from my lips as I feel his hips sputter against me, a mix of hard and soft grunts in my ear before he loosens his fingers, letting me drop back to my hands. 
He pulls out with a grunt and I immediately feel light, empty, and a little sore but in a good way. He looks at me and I point to my en suite bathroom, still trying to catch my breath. He disappears for several moments before coming back out, a wet washcloth in hand. He looks at me, still in the same position he left me in and moves behind me, pressing the cloth to my sensitive skin. I twitch and hear a low chuckle as he continues to clean me up. He helps me lay on my back, his finger tracing circles around my nippple before giving it a little pinch. 
“We better get back to your party.”
“My what?” I’d completely forgotten there even was a dinner party happening. He laughs, his hand resting on my stomach.
“Your dinner party. Surely your friends will wonder where you are.”
“Maybe. Or we could just stay here, naked, and see what happens?”
His eyes darken again and he leans forward, pulling a boob into his mouth and sucking on it. I gasp but then he drops it, sitting back up.
“As much as I’d love that, we should probably get back downstairs.”
I’m hurt, but he’s right. Soon enough my friends would send a search party. And I don’t want any of them to see this complete stranger, balls deep inside of me. Although if you asked me when he was actually balls deep, I wouldn’t have cared at all. 
Lucien dresses first and heads back downstairs, winking at me before he closes the door. I quickly rinse off, careful not to wet my hair before trying to fix it to what it was before. I smooth down my dress and hope no one notices the difference. I decide to check the power on his phone before I head down, just to give him an update, expecting it to not be any higher than maybe 20%. But when I light the screen up, my eyebrows furrow together. It was fully charged. Why did he lie? Was it just to fuck me? I wouldn’t have cared if his phone was fully charged. 
I take it from the charger and head back downstairs, sounds of laughter echoing up the stairwell. I sneak in through the back door, grabbing another bottle of wine on my way in as an excuse for taking so long. I realize I have no idea how much time I’d spent upstairs, but people were just finishing eating, so it couldn’t have been too long. 
I feel eyes on me, but none more than Marcos. His eyes bore into me, hardening the longer he looks at me. He glances between Lucien and me as I hand him his phone, a look of realization settling into his features. Before I can say anything he abruptly stands up, mumbling something about a cigarette break before heading out on the back porch. A moment passes and Lucien pats his pockets, asking Claudia if she thinks Marcos will let him bum a cigarette off of him. She smiles and tells him he definitely will. Lucien gets up and excuses himself, heading out the back door to find Marcos. 
Claudia keeps looking at me, her eyes narrowing but a smile forming, like she’s starting to piece together what happened. Before she can ask, I excuse myself, heading towards the backyard to find Lucien and Marcos. But when I open the door I hear raised voices coming from further in the backyard. 
“You need to fucking leave, Lucien.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you give me what’s mine, Marcos.”
“It’s not yours anymore, I told you that!”
“That’s because you fucking stole it from me, asshole!”
What the hell are they talking about?
“You say stole, I say borrowed-”
“It took me forever to find you and now you don’t even have the balls to admit you stole from me?”
“Fuck you!”
“No, fuck you!”
I hear the sound of fists landing and I close the last several steps, their fighting bodies moving into my view.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
They both stop, pushing back from each other and looking at me. Marcos tries to put on his normal charming smile, but that nagging feeling about him roars inside of me. “Hey, D.”
“Don’t hey me, Marcos. What’s going on?”
“Oh uh Lucien and I were just messing around, right?” He looks at Lucien who glares back at him.
“No. We were not. You stole from me.”
Marcos narrows his eyes. “And how could I have stolen anything from you?”
“You were my intern! You worked on my project and then you stole it to start your little start up!”
“Wait, what?” I look between them, confused. 
“D, he’s crazy. He’s just some guy off the street. You don’t even know him-”
“Oh she knows me plenty.” 
My jaw drops as Marcos looks between us. 
“Wait…did…did you sleep with her when you went to get your phone?”
I can feel my cheeks heating up but Lucien speaks before I do. “Yeah. I did. I fucked her good. Had her screaming my name. Begging me to fuck her.”
Marcos’s mouth opens and closes, anger flashing in his eyes and I can feel tears pooling in mine, a mixture of anger and embarrassment as Lucien continues to speak.
“Doesn’t feel good, does it Marcos? To have something you want so badly taken away from you? I knew the moment I saw you look at her that you wanted her. So I fucked her first. You take something from me, I take something from you.”
Marcos stands there fuming, looking furious at Lucien, but no longer even looking my way. “You can’t just come in here-”
“I can. And I came in her too.”
SLAP!
My hand stings with the force of contact but I swallow any cry of pain. Lucien brings his hand to his cheek, turning to finally look at me, an odd expression on his face.
“D, listen. Marcos isn’t who you think he is. He-” 
WHAM!
Marcos’s fist collides with Lucien’s face and he stumbles backwards. He rallies quickly, swinging for Marcos. I yell for them to stop but I may as well have been talking to the wall. The men fight, throwing themselves at each other, yelling insults that I can only halfway make out. But then Lucien pins Marcos to the ground, pounding on his face. I run up to him and grab his arm. 
“Stop!”
Lucien looks at my hand on his arm and then at me before glancing down at Marcos who had just passed out. He looks back at me, his face softening as he lowers his fist, slowly standing up with a series of tiny grunts.
“D, I’m sorry, I-”
“Did you just fuck me to get back at him?”
He’s quiet for longer than I’d like, and I hate the tears that start to fall. I’m not delusional. I know nothing would come of it. I didn’t even know the guy. But a part of me had held onto some idea that maybe it was something more, could be something more. 
“Not…not at the end.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He gestures to a couple of chairs. “Can I explain?”
I sit, I probably shouldn’t have but good decisions went out the window a long time ago. Lucien sits in the chair across from me, shifting his weight forward to be closer to me. 
“Years ago, I hired Marcos as my intern. His name then was Juan. He helped me with my research. I had a bio tech lab and was working on some ground breaking tech. But then one day, I come in and everything is gone. He’d stolen everything, all of my years of research just gone. And then I see his face being put up as the new man to watch in all of the science and tech magazines and I see it, my tech being claimed by this imposter.” Lucien spits on Marcos’s body. 
That explains the weird vibe I’d always gotten from him. He was a lying cheat. 
“So what about tonight?”
“Ah. Well it had taken me years but I finally tracked him down. And every time I tried to get close, to get him to confess he would somehow weasel out of it. But then I saw him connected to a social media post about a dinner party. I hired a PI to figure out where and I..well I knocked on the door.”
“So your car?”
“Isn’t really broken down, no.”
“Your phone was fully charged.”
“It was already at 87% when I first plugged it in.”
I sit with this information for a few moments. “So what about…me?”
Lucien’s face softens as he looks at me. “Then there was you. I didn’t expect to see anyone here I actually was intrigued by, but there you were. I pushed it aside to get to Marcos but then I saw how he acted around you, the way he looked at you, the pure desire in every inch of him. So I flirted and got close. You were hot and I figured I could fuck you to make him get super pissed. But then you took your dress off so easily and I could tell you weren’t really that kind of person and I just… lost myself a bit when I was inside you. By the end, I was hating myself for using you. I…I’m sorry.”
Well. There you have it. I was right about Marcos being too charming for a reason, a reason he had now confessed to, recorded on Lucien’s phone no doubt. I’m mad, I want to hit him but I also get it. And damn was he the best fuck I’ve ever had. 
I lean forward, curling my finger around the chains on his neck as I pull him closer. 
“Wanna go for round 2?”
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thefallennightmare · 6 months
Text
Just Pretend-six
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: Please, I beg you. Don't focus too much on the whole Trey part(i mean he is an asshole.) But when Noah and Angel are listening to music, please please please listen too Eiley by Too Close To Touch. That is all.
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond
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"How are we feeling tonight, Milwaukee?!" I yelled into the microphone.
Cheers reverberated back from the ground up to the stage as I squinted my eyes when the stage lights cast over us.
"I'm glad you're having fun because if you weren't, this would be awkward," I joked with a chuckle while adjusting the microphone stand. "But all jokes aside, I wanted to say thank you for all of your support for Hollow Souls the last few years. It's appreciated more than you all could ever know. Because of your love and support, we're able to do what we love every night."
I pointed to Chase who did his typical ten-second drum solo then to Malcolm who strummed a few notes on his bass before giving an over-exaggerated bow. And reluctantly, I pointed to Trey who came up to me and threw an arm around my shoulder, leaving a kiss on my cheek; it smelled like vodka and cigarettes.
"Thanks, baby," he winked before chugging half of his clear water bottle that I was sure wasn't water.
Glancing over to the left side of the stage, I gave a wide smile to the guys of Bad Omens as they all watched out set. They had a killer set before us, this one I actually watched, and the energy that vibrated off of them stuck to me before I came out here, finally letting the excitement of performing to fill my veins. This was the first night in a while that I moved around on stage and put on a show for the crowd.
Noah flashed me a brief smile, memories of our day on the beach a few days ago still burning hot in my mind, and I gave him a small wave.
"So we only have two songs left," I spoke back into the microphone which in turn made the crowd boo loudly. "But you guys have to admit, we put on a killer show for you all tonight. But what about Bad Omens?"
The crow cheered but not as loud as I thought they should so I grabbed the mic off of the stand before going up to the little stage that Chase had his drums set up so I could stare down at the entire crowd.
"Oh, that was some weak shit, Milwaukee," I showed them my mock disappointment by placing my hand on my hip.
Chase looked at me with a smile, knowing what I was fishing for so he beat on his drum, hyping up the crowd.
"I want to hear every single one of you scream for Bad Omens on the count of three. Ready?!"
Cheers and screams filled the large venue hall, but I was greedy; I needed to hear it louder. These guys deserved it.
"One!" I held up one finger.
Chase drummed faster; harder.
"Two!"
Two fingers up in the air as Chase put more force into his drumming.
Looking back over to where Bad Omens were watching with bright smiles as I hyped up the crowd for them, I held up three fingers, Chase breaking out in a full on drum solo now.
"THREE!"
The screams were loud, deafening, and I took out my ear in so I could hear it for myself. My heart pounded in my chest as I ran down the steps from Chase's makeshift stage and ran to one end of the stage, throwing up my arms up in the air before doing the same thing on the other end of the stage. Malcolm played a few chords on his bass as I stood next to him.
"You guys might not think this now but Bad Omens are going to be huge in a few years. They'll be in our position selling out shows and Hollow Souls will open for them," I promised into the microphone.
Malcolm watched me with awe through the messy strands of auburn hair that covered his face. Tonight was the first night all tour that I interacted with the crowd this much and fuck, it felt so good. With the energy of watching Bad Omens play and the crowd singing to every one of our songs made adrenaline course through me and I couldn't stop.
Noah's words from our first night on tour came to mind: "Come alive out there. Have fun."
Trey watched me with pure distaste in his eyes as I hyped up Noah and his friends but I didn't care; I was feeling so good about myself that I even wore something different from I usually did. A short-sleeved white crop top with black high wasted shorts. It showed off most of my tattoos and when Trey tried to tell me to go change, I simply told him to fuck off before running out on stage.
As I walked over to the area by Chase's drum stage where I kept my water, I glanced to my right and noticed that all the guys of Bad Omens were giving me large smiles with Noah finishing it with a wink. I also had my phone on here and usually I never checked it during our set but there was this feeling deep in my gut that told me to check it. It shocked me to see it was from Mason, an old friend of mine.
I'm sorry it has to be through text but you needed to know. Keaton's gone.
My phone slipped from my grasp as I nearly choked on my breath, vacant eyes staring at the floor beneath my feet. I swear my heart stopped in that moment I read the text, almost not believing it. But knowing it came from Mason who was close with Keaton, it was true.
Keaton's gone? I just talked to him a few days ago, and we made plans to catch up once tour was over.
I sucked in a breath; the realization hitting me like a freight train, and I spun around to side stage just in time to see Noah staring down at the phone in his hand. His body was stilled straight, not moving an inch, but even from this distance I could see the cold expression that crossed his face. Nothing about his body language gave off what he was thinking; what he was feeling.
"Look at me, Noah." I muttered under my breath.
I needed to know what his eyes were saying.
Instead, he shoved his phone into his pocket before turning his back to me and disappearing from view, the rest of his friends following close behind.
"Y/N?"
Through my hazy vision, I glanced up to Chase who was kneeling on his makeshift stage so he could look down at me.
"What's wrong?" His voice was full of worry.
He must have seen me read the text and knew me so well to know something was drastically wrong.
"Uh," I blinked slowly, voice wavering, as the grief sank its feral fangs deep into the marrow of my bones. It's nails gouged through my heart, it bleeding to the depths of my stomach.
What was I supposed to do? Cancel the rest of the show?
No, Keaton wouldn't want that. He would want me to perform with every ounce I had left in me and that's what I was going to do. We could all grief together after.
"I'll explain after the show. Lets close it out strong," I nodded my reassurance to Chase before slowly walking over to my microphone stand.
I ignored the crowd as they chanted for an encore and pushed my way through the bodies of our crew members. Malcolm and Chase were hot on my heels, waiting for me to explain what the hell was going on. I rushed through the last two songs so I could get off stage and find Noah. I needed to know if he was alright.
Trey's fingers grasped my elbow in a tight grip to haul me to a stop. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you rush through the last two songs?"
"Fuck off!" I screamed while ripping my arm from his grasp.
Tears burned in my eyes, and I dug my palms into them to stop the tears from falling. I couldn't break down right now. I needed to find Noah.
When Trey tried to grab me again, Chase stepped in front of me and pushed him hard in his chest. "Leave her alone, man. Can't you see something's wrong?"
"This isn't your business!" Trey stepped up into Chase's chest.
Malcolm felt the immediate change in air, the tension growing its webs deep into the air around us, so he laid a soft touch on Chase's shoulder.
"He's not worth it, man."
Trey snickered. "You always have to come to Chase's rescue. Is that what true love is?"
Chase cursed before pushing past Malcom, laying his fist directly into Trey's jaw, knocking his ass to the floor. I yelped out in surprise while covering my mouth as Chase tried to get another hit in but now Malcolm was pushing him farther away from Trey.
"Calm down! You can't do that right now."
He spat at the floor where Trey sat while clutching his jaw. "He deserves it! I'm pissed I waited this long!"
Trey was fast on his feet to barrel past Malcom to tackle Chase down the ground, laying fist after fist into his face.
"Stop it!" I yelled with tears in my eyes.
Malcolm cursed then grabbed Trey from the back and basically tossed him to the side. Chase scrambled to his feet, spitting blood at the ground as he tried to go after Trey.
"That's all you got, pretty boy? Need your boyfriend to come save you again?" Trey taunted with a smirk.
"Fuck off, Trey!" I screamed while stepping between him and Chase, who immediately moved me behind him to block me from Trey.
"Oh, what's this?" He raised a brow. "Noah's dick wasn't enough, now she's sucking yours too?"
Trey's body crumbled to the ground, clutching his now broken nose that had blood pooling to the floor between his fingers.
Malcom cursed under his breath while rubbing his sore knuckles.
"You're a piece of shit," I seethed from over Chase's shoulder. "Not everything is about you!"
"The hell it isn't!" Trey screamed. "You're always taking everyone else side. I'm your boyfriend, Y/N! Why are you in such a hurry to find Noah? You should be with me, not some pussy kid who think he's going to be the next big thing."
Chase advantaged to Trey once more but Malcom was quick to step in front of him.
Malcolm grabbed Chase's face so he could look at just his emerald eyes. "I know, man. But look at Y/N, look at her! She's two seconds away from breaking down and we don't know why. She needs us."
Chase's nostrils flared as he gave one last glance down to Trey before his eyes fell on me, who was still covering my mouth, mind swirling with so many differnt emotions I didn't know which one to focus on. I didn't realize but tears were streaming down my face as I continued to stare at Trey.
"I can't believe you're taking their side. After everything I gave you?" He seethed while slowly rising to his feet.
I blinked, astonished he said that. "I'm not getting into this with you right now."
He spit blood at my feet, wiping it on the back of his hand. "You're pathetic."
I thought the anger would rise as he pushed past us but the grief was so strong; it outweighed all the rest.
"Y/N," Malcolm was now lifting my chin up towards his face, worry filling the emerald lights of his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I have to find, Noah."
My voice was so quiet, and I knew they didn't hear me so after clearing my throat, I held my shoulders straighter so I could tell them the words that I was dreading to say.
"Keaton. He's uh-.," I swallowed thickly. "Keaton's dead."
Chase's anger left his body as he ran a hand over his buzzed head while Malcolm gave a slow nod, my words still registering with him. We all were close with the guys in Too Close To Touch but they knew the special bond Keaton and I had. They also knew how much I was battling inside my mind.
"Come on," Chase's soothing voice encompassed around me as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, leading us through the backstage area of the venue.
Malcolm showed us his phone. "Jolly said Noah's outside, he wanted to be alone."
I nodded numbly. "Maybe I'll catch him before we leave-."
"No."
Turning in Chase's arms, I saw Nick standing at the doorway that lead out to the back parking lot. His hair was a mess as if he was running his hands through his and while his eyes were red, it looked like he was holding in his own tears.
"He won't talk to any of us, not even me. He's shutting down and I don't know how to help him," Nick said with so much defeat in his voice, it made my heart wrench in pain.
"I don't know how much help I'll be if he won't even listen to you, Nick," I shrugged.
His eyes shined with the wetness of tears. "Please."
I was already loss for words and which made me unable to say the things that crawled my mind. How would I be able to translate how I'm feeling about this when truthfully, I didn't know myself?
"Okay," I let out in one breath. "Where is he?"
"When I left him, he was pacing in front of our bus," Nick said while motioning for me to follow.
Chase left a kiss on my head while Malcolm bumped his fist with mine, his way of showing affection, and I followed Nick outside where the sight broke my heart. Noah was pacing the length of the bus, running a frantic hand through his long hair. Jolly and Folio watched from afar with their hands in their pockets, not sure what to do. Noah let out a loud noise that shook the earth beneath me, the raw grief destroying him.
"Noah," I spoke softly.
Red, bloodshot eyes, stared back at me as tears stained his face. Noah's bottom lips trembled as a broken sob crawled out of his throat.
"Is Trey around? Because I don't want to deal with that bullshit right now."
"Fuck Trey," I spat, the altercation from earlier still burning low. "It's just you and me, Noah."
Both of us stood still for a long moment before the same magnetic pull that was etched in deep in our hearts made us both break out in a sprint towards each other. I fell into his embrace, nearly knocking him over, as his arms circling around me while he buried his face in my hairline. Noah completely broke down when my hands spread over his large back, needing to feel the heat of him. I cried into his shirt as my fists grasped the back of it. We stayed like that for so long, until neither of us could cry anymore, and his raw voice spoke in a hushed tone.
"He can't-." The words died on his lips as he choked on a broken sob.
Still in his embrace, I rested my chin on his chest as I looked up at him. "I just talked to him earlier this week."
Noah tensed in my arms for the briefest of moments. "Me too."
I rested my cheek to his chest again letting the beat of his heart calm my own. One had was running fingers through the long strands of my hair while the other grasped at my lower back. This pain was unknown; I'd never lost someone so close to me like this before. I didn't know the correct way to grief but knowing that Noah was going through the same thing made it a little easier.
"Kenneth said the funeral is on Friday," Noah's chest rumbled.
I looked up at him again with my arms still wrapped around him. "What do you want to do?"
Noah swallowed the large lump in his throat, doing his best to hold back his tears. "I need to go."
"Alright. I'll book us two tickets to Kentucky. I'm sure Ethan and Matt will understand if we need to cancel the next show."
"You're coming with me?" He asked, almost shocked. "What about-?"
I gently touched his cheek. "I'm not letting you deal with this on your own, Noah. Keaton was my friend too. I'm going."
With a relief sigh, he brushed his lips through my hairline, pressing the softest of kisses there and even though I forced the butterflies deep down to the pits of my stomach, I couldn't stop the small smile that pulled at my lips.
"Thank you, angel."
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Hoping out of the bathroom on one foot, I balanced while strapping on one heel before switching feet to do the same to the other. I straightened out and brushed away the stray hairs on my black dress before turning my attention to Noah, who was standing in front of the mirror in the room, staring at himself.
"I'm almost ready to go. I just need to find my jacket," I said as I rummaged through my suitcase.
He didn't say a word, just kept staring absentmindedly at his reflection and although he was already dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and a black button him, something was missing from his outfit; the grey tie that hung loose from his fingers.
We arrived to the hotel in Lexington earlier this morning and almost immediately, Noah shut himself in the bathroom to get ready. I checked in on him after a while when I realized the shower was running for some time and when he called back. 'I'm alright, angel' I let him be. Noah needed time to heal and mentally prepare himself for today. I didn't want to add any extra pressure that wasn't necessary. Thankfully, both Matt and Ethan were more than alright with us taking two days off to come to Keaton's funeral. We ended up having to cancel tonight's show but once news broke online of Keaton's passing; the fans understood.
After the first initial shock of finding out about Keaton, Noah shut down. He's barely said anything to me or the guys since the other night and Nick stressed to me before we left I needed to make sure Noah didn't retreat into himself.
"He hasn't had an anxiety attack in some time but I'm afraid that with the weight of everything, it might cause him to spiral."
I promised Nick with a bone-crushing hug that I'd keep an extra eye on Noah.
Noah was already so far in his head that when we walked into the hotel room to see only one bed, he merely shrugged before shutting himself in the bathroom.
"Hey," I said softly while resting a hand on his back. "What's going on in your mind?"
He tore his gaze away from the mirror and held up his tie. "I don't know how to tie a tie."
"Here," I smiled while taking it from his hands and popped the collar of his shirt so I could slide it around his neck.
We stood in silence as I worked on tying it and Noah stared straight over my head. Our breathing was the only thing heard in the room as my eyes traveled away from the tie to the tattoo's on his neck and I bit the inside of my cheek when the urge to lick it filled me.
"Yes, it hurt."
Noah's deep voice broke me out of the trance over tracing over the design of snake, apple, and hand.
"Hm?" I peered up at him, fingers finishing the knot in his tie.
"The tattoo, it hurt. You were staring at it so I figured you were about to ask me that," he said.
The brightness of his dark eyes dulled the night we found out about Keaton and part of me worried it would never return.
"Yeah," I murmured, even though that wasn't what I was thinking about. "Well, I'm done."
Noah smiled a thanks before he grabbed his jacket off the chair in the room and slid it on. Next came the rings and bracelets and if it was a different circumstance, I would marvel at how attractive his fingers were.
I stared at him for a long moment as he stood in front of me, now fully dressed.
"What?," he asked.
I bit my lip nervously, unsure how he would answer my question. "Could I brush your hair? I can fix it so it stays out of your face today. If not, it's not a big deal. I just thought maybe-."
For the first time in a few days, Noah smiled just the slightest and handed me a brush from his bag. "Promise you won't braid it?"
"I won't," I chuckled while motioning for him to sit on the edge of the bed.
He did, and I kneeled behind him to run the brush through his hair. It dried weird after his shower and kind of a mess around his face. I figured it would bother him today, so that's why I offered; not because I wanted to take care of him anyway I could.
From the mirror in front of us, I watched as Noah's eyes shut and a pure look of bliss crossed his features. The hard lines in his forehead eased and the darkness underneath his eyes lightened just from this simple action.
"You don't have to carry everything on your shoulders, Noah," I whispered as I set the brush down on the bed but remained kneeling behind him.
My hands rested on his shoulders as I stared at him through the mirror. His eyes met mine in a dull way but there was just enough spark of life that eased the grip around my heart.
"I know, angel," he nodded while grasping my hand, giving it a squeeze.
When he stood to his feet, my hands fell from him and I couldn't lie I missed the way his strong muscles felt under my fingers.
"Ready?" I asked once I had my jacket and bag on.
"No, but I don't have a choice. I have to say goodbye," Noah ran a hand over his somber face.
It truly worried me if he'd be able to make it through the day without showing some kind of emotion.
Instead of dwelling on it, I extended my hand towards him. "Come on. Let's go say goodbye to our friend then."
The warmth from his hand as his fingers intertwined with mine made my heart flutter in my chest and he reassured me he was in fact fine with a gentle squeeze.
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"I'll call you guys once the tour is over and all of us can get together for a dinner for Keaton," I smiled weakly to Kenneth.
"He'd want that," he smiled.
I wiped away a few tears before nodding. "Yea."
Mason motioned behind me. "How's he doing?"
Turning on my heels, I took in the broken sight of Noah who was sitting on a stone wall in the cemetery, pure grief on his face. The funeral wasn't easy for any of us but for Noah, it nearly brought him to his knees; if it wasn't for me.
My arm hooked through Noah's as I rested my head on his shoulder, the both of us staring down at the now filled grave. People has dispersed by now, going to the wake, but Noah wasn't ready to leave. He wanted to stay for a few minutes to say something to Keaton. But the longer we stayed in this position, I realized maybe he couldn't find the words to say.
I rested my chin on his arm while looking to the side of his face but the strands of his hair covered what I wanted to see the most so I brushed it behind his ear. "He knows, Noah."
A muscle in his jaw ticked. "It's not fair."
With a long sigh, I rested my head against his shoulder once more and looked at our friend's grave. "I know."
"Yeah, he will be. Might take some time but I'll make sure of it."
Saying goodbye to Kenneth and Mason, I walked over to Noah who slowly stood when he noticed me.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Yeah," I nodded.
I planned on walking next to him but when he extended his hand towards me, my heart did the same stuttered it always did when around him. So with our hands intertwined, our hearts seemed to slowly be, I let him lead me towards the rental car.
"Are you hungry?" Noah asked.
"I could eat," I shrugged.
Once we reached the car, he opened the passenger door for me and helped me into the seat.
"Noah, I can get in the car by myself," I giggled when he even clicked the seatbelt over me.
We were so close and I could feel his warm breath cascade over my lips as I tilted up towards him, almost closing the distance. It was the same pull, only this time it was stronger, the energy vibrating in our veins. Noah leaned closer but when my phone rang loudly from my purse, he pulled away while clearing his throat.
"You should get that," he said before shutting the door.
Trey's name flashed across the screen and with a grumble, I ignored it and sent a quick four word text to the group chat me, Malcolm, and Chase had.
Going dark. We're okay.
Once my phone was shut off, I leaned back into the seat as Noah started the car and drove away from the cemetery. Trey had been calling almost every hour since I left early this morning and it was getting to where I nearly chucked my phone out the window. He wasn't happy I was coming here, especially with Noah, but I told him to go fuck himself; he couldn't tell me what to do.
Not anymore.
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"Shower's open," I said while walking out of the bathroom, dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a hoodie.
Noah sat perched on the edge of the bed still wearing his clothes from the funeral, and rested his elbows on his knees. When he heard me walk into the room, he quickly wiped away tears and cleared his throat.
"Okay," he kept his gaze cast downward to the carpet of the room.
Shit, he was crying.
Then I realized, a soft tune was filling the room and felt my shoulders fall; Keaton's voice grazed my ears as Too Close To Touch played through the bluetooth speaker Noah brought.
"Noah," I said gently while sitting next to him. "Please don't hide this from me."
"Angel," he warned but any malice behind his voice was deadweight.
He was exhausted and couldn't fight, as much as he wanted too.
I brushed my fingers over his face to tilt his chin towards me and sucked in a breath when I saw how red and swollen his eyes were. Not saying another word, I brought him down to my chest while his hands immediately grasped at my sweater, holding on for dear life as if he was afraid the grief would rip apart from me and drag him deep into the dark abyss.
Noah's cries tangled with Keaton's voice as I let his tears stain my sweater, his body shaking in my embrace. I brushed the air back from his face so he didn't have to worry about it sticking to his face with the tears.
"I fucking miss him, angel. It's not fair."
I blinked away my own tears. "I know. But he's still with us in everything we do. We have pictures and messages from him to remember, we have his music."
Noah sucked in a large breath, burying his face deeper into me. "I can't believe he's fucking gone. I can't. I've lost so many people-so many. I just-. I'll miss him so fucking much."
I rested my head on top of his. "Me too."
He pulled his head away from my chest and I raised my hand to brush away his tears, one hanging on by a thread on his eyelash.
"If I'm being honest," he took a breath to steady himself. "Sitting here with you tonight has also hit me like a train."
Another pause as he exhaled the breath, body shaking with nerves or grief, I wasn't sure.
"I can't lose anyone else. I can't." Noah shook his head. "I don't-I-want-"
"Hey," I cupped his cheek, thumb brushing over the tear that hung on his eyelash. "I'm right here."
His eyes twinkled with the wetness from his tears. "I don't want to fucking lose you, angel. No matter what; I can't. I won't."
"You won't," I repeated his words back to him with my promise, tears falling from my eyes down to his lap.
After the tears were shed and Noah felt a little lighter, he went into the bathroom to change into a pair of sweats and a shirt, throwing his hair up with a claw clip. I'd made myself comfortable leaning against the headboard and Noah followed, sitting right next to me. We continued listening to Too Close To Touch, almost in a way to honor his memory. Noah's knee brushed against mine but I didn't bother to move away from him; his body heat wrapped around me like a blanket and I reveled in feeling this sense of peace in so long.
A deep yawn fell from my lips, and when I gazed at the clock, I nearly groaned. It was only four in the afternoon but with all the emotional trauma we went through today; I was ready for bed.
"Here," Noah extended his legs on the bed and patted his lap. "Lay down. You should get some rest, angel."
I hesitated. "Are you sure? We never even talked about the sleeping situation. I can go lay on the couch."
Noah rolled his eyes with a hint of a smile. "We're two grown adults, we can share the same bed. I'll even put up a wall of pillows if that makes you comfortable."
"No, you don't have to do that," I giggled. "But I definitely will take you up on that offer of laying my head in your lap."
Something dark flashed in his eyes and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. "Go for it."
Ignoring the way my core clenched with the image of me doing other things in his lap, I rested my head against his thigh and almost mewled in pleasure when his long fingers ran through my hair, nails scratching lightly across my scalp.
"Is this alright?"
I nodded. "More than alright. If you keep doing this, I'll fall asleep."
Noah hummed. "That's the plan, angel."
"How can you say this was all part of your plan? Start explaining. Crafted from hope and hospital beds, she's gone."
"No," I trembled. "Not this one."
Out of all the songs, this one was the one I did not want to hear tonight; Eiley.
"It hits differently now, huh?" Noah noted.
"Yea, it does."
With the music and Noah's soft fingers through my hair, I dozed off only to awake sometime later when I felt intense eyes staring down at me. I opened my eyes in a daze and looked up to see dark eyes watching me, tracking my every movement as my lips parted in breath. His expression was something I'd never seen before; blank, lips drawn in a straight line, and his brown eyes blown dark.
I opened my eyes wider and his face lit up with a small grin.
"Hi, angel."
"Hi," I whispered.
Noah gently put his hand on my cheek to scan my face once more, almost waiting for a reaction. I met his intense gaze with my own and felt the intensity from the pull that seemed to be connected by our hearts pull me down so deep to the abyss that was Noah Sebastian and for the first time; I didn't ignore it.
I almost expected his kiss. It's always been right there between us, waiting hungrily. What I didn't expect, however, was his hands so rough, to hold my face tenderly. I didn't expect the furrow of his brows as his eyes darted from mine to my lips, almost in a silent question.
Please.
As the earth stood still, gravity nonexistent, Noah laid his lips to mine, kissing me softly, slowly. Everything around us blurring and disappearing. My fingers grasped his wrist to keep from slipping away from how light I felt with his lips on mine, gasping into his mouth at the sensation that came roaring to life inside of me.
A match lit in a dark room, flaring with brilliant light. My lips parted with that gasp to let Noah slip his tongue past mine, and then fight for dominance until eventually, he won.
He tasted fucking heavenly and when a low growl crawled from the back of his throat; I knew Noah thought the same for me.
"Fuck," I rushed out suddenly, sitting up from his lap in a start. "Oh my god, I am so sorry."
Noah raised his tattoo hand and gently cupped my cheek, his thumb grazing over my kiss-swollen lips. "Fuck, no I'm sorry angel. I shouldn't have."
He leaned in close so he could whisper his apology into the air and all noise ceased to exist. There was this tension thick between us and suddenly, I was afraid that with what happened, things would get awkward between us. But Noah broke out in a light laughter one that eased the erratic beat of my heart. I soon followed, both of us laughing away the tension.
"Nick let me bring the Super Nintendo. Want to play a few rounds?" Noah smirked.
I scoffed playfully. "Your ass is grass and I'm going to mow it."
Noah, who was still chuckling and out of breath, stood from the bed to get the game set up. "Whatever you say, angel."
Some people might think laughing and going to playing a video game right after an intense kiss like that was not normal but for Noah and I, none of this was normal. I appreciated he could tell the tension was too thick I couldn't catch my breath, so he immediately made the atmosphere breathable again, the only way he knew how, with blushing cheeks, familiar scars, and electric hearts. 
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