still here! new fic time!
Sorry! I've been busy! Family drama, grad students, secret_mutant writing (how are you over 10k now story what the heck stop this please)...anyway, here, have some James/Michael hurt/comfort fluff for today.
Title: Why We Make A Good You And Me
Rating: PG for content, R if occasional employment of the F-word matters
Word Count: 3,606
Disclaimers: boys’re not mine, ( Read more... )
Title: Why We Make A Good You And Me
Rating: PG for content, R if occasional employment of the F-word matters
Word Count: 3,606
Disclaimers: boys’re not mine, ( Read more... )
He has always liked cold mornings. There’s something vivid about the chill. Refreshing. Brisk.
James doesn’t like cold mornings, or rather likes cold mornings in a different way; James likes seasons, and change, and the excitement of autumn in the air, giant sweaters and fluffy scarves and pumpkin-spice coffee, the tangible coziness of the world.
I kind of appreciate Michael's viewpoint here. Crisp Autumn mornings, especially when the sun is out and the leaves are golden, are lovely. But really, I think I'm more with James on this subject - my favourite thing about crisp Autumn days is watching them through the window, curled up in the warm on my sofa!
At this point, several events happen in rapid succession: Michael tries to push himself to his feet, discovers bruises in places he didn’t know he had, attempts to unfold his right ankle, and gets knocked back onto the ground by white-hot pain.Only of my most vivid memories from childhood is pretty much exactly this happening to me (minus ( ... )
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I think it's also part of my personal head-canon that Michael likes the cold. He seems like he would: it's very crisp and bright and alive. (James also likes the cold, not for the weather itself, but because the weather gets Michael to cuddle him and bring him cups of holiday-flavored coffee.) I suspect that I am also James in this case, plus Evil Demon Cat on lap and a good book...
Oh, ouch, poor you! I've actually done that, too--skating team practice--and it's such an awful, sickening feeling, isn't it? And you can't believe it's not even broken, or anything; ought to be a real injury, right, if it's going to hurt that much! *hands your ankle belated fluffy pillow*
I shouldn't laugh, but this is a hilarious image! That's pretty much why Kevin's there. Guaranteed bonus hilarity, any time. (Though...some part of me now wonders why he's so very concerned about Michael, and wants to write a tragic tale of unrequited love...No ( ... )
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Yep, that's the reason I'd like it too! ;) Although I'd probably just have to appreciate the thought of the holiday flavoured coffee, as I can't stand any coffee with milk in...
*hands your ankle belated fluffy pillow*
My ankle belatedly says thank you! (Although it was about 20 years ago!)
(Though...some part of me now wonders why he's so very concerned about Michael, and wants to write a tragic tale of unrequited love...No.)
Awwwwwww, this kind of makes me sad. Poor Kevin... :(
And, anyway, you wouldn't say those things out loud, even if you *think* the person's sleeping, if you didn't on some level wonder what might happen if they heard...
Oh yes, there would definitely be that subconscious (or perhaps not so subconscious) wanting the other person to hear. That hope that you could never quite let go of that they would somehow feel the same way, and joy would magically happen (which of course it did in this instance!).
But at ( ... )
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Sorry about the Kevin thing! I almost didn't share that one, because now I'm just going to feel bad for him all the time in fic! NOT a headcanon, no! Kevin's just a naturally nice person!
That hope that you could never quite let go of that they would somehow feel the same way, and joy would magically happen
Precisely this! And where'd we be without hope, hmm? Even if we know that those stories are so incredibly rare...we also want to believe that they can happen, unexpectedly, splendidly, like the best euphoric turn out of apathy (thanks, Tolkien!). And we like to believe that that kind of patient, longing love can be rewarded, in the end. (And now I want to quote Twelfth Night at you, but shall restrain myself...)
All the persuasion! Once Michael's feeling better, of course. Then they can demonstrate exactly how much they do mean those words. Over, and over...
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That might work, I suppose, although I've never tried my coffee with any kind of syrup etc. in it, so I can't really imagine what it would be like...
(And now I want to quote Twelfth Night at you, but shall restrain myself...)
Don't feel you have to restrain yourself - Twelfth Night is my favourite! :)
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I think it was going to be a Viola quote, about patience on a monument and such, but now I can't recall exactly...oh, well. I do like Twelfth Night, but Orsino's a bit too depressive for me; Much Ado is a bit more fun, I think?
(Having fun re-reading H.G. Wells at the moment--not Shakespeare, but fascinating!)
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We may experience our own version of the pumpkin pie incident!
I do like Twelfth Night, but Orsino's a bit too depressive for me; Much Ado is a bit more fun, I think?
I do like Much Ado (having now got over studying it for A Levels - although I studied Twelfth Night for GCSE, and that's where my liking for it stems from, hmmmmmm...), but I've always found the transition to the serious bit, after Claudio accuses Hero of infidelity, to be a bit jarring. Up until then, however, it's hilarious (especially when David Tennant is getting covered in paint! *g*)
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I've always found the transition to the serious bit, after Claudio accuses Hero of infidelity, to be a bit jarring
I think it is, too--it's not his most elegant play--but I kind of like it, as a metaphor for the way that those elements do sometimes crash and collide and coexist, in life. Aristotle'd be angry, though. (Also, David Tennant makes even that look charming!)
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