Hi! First of all, your stories are giving me so much comfort, you have no idea! And I don't know if you are accepting requests or anything, but I was on a bus home today, daydreaming as I always do, and a story idea popped up, and I don't know, maybe you are willing to give it a try to write it. Anyway...
I was listening to Moncrieff's song Warm while commuting and it made me think of a reader (won't lie, I imagined myself ehehehe) and Joe - maybe they are friends but she feels more, and maybe she finds a silver lining in everything that bothers him, encourages him and Joe is not really if his feelings are there yet, but he is definitely thinking more about her in a certain way. So, the idea is that he is so stressed out, so many things are going on, and he is being pulled apart by the industry, colleagues, people around him, journalists, and he finds himself spiralling and then one day he calls her, despite the time difference and she answers, sleepy and whatnot, and that's when he realises that she is the one.
I found that Moncrieff song so nice and I don't know, listen to it if you'd like, and if you won't write it or anything, it's okay. I just had to get it off my chest..
x
omg more people need to do this, this song is BEAUTIFUL hope you like what I've done with your request <3
Wordcount: 1.3K
---
Homesick
“Joe?” you answered, the thick of sleep in your voice clearly detectable over the phone.
“Hey,” Joe instantly regretted not checking what time it was in London before he called.
“My God, you better have a good excuse to call me at a quarter past six on a Friday morning.”
Earlier that evening, Joe had shut the door behind him and had let out a deep sigh. Homesick. He had really felt it then and recognized that the annoying negativity he’d been dragging around on his shoulders was a longing for home. He felt so far removed, now across the Atlantic in a city deeply impersonal to him and he wished he could will himself back into his flat in London.
London. Where he knew to find the exact spot of the bathroom light switch when he would reach for it in the dark of night. Where there were cups of strong builder’s tea just the way he liked it. Where there were after work drinks at pubs that would be filled to the brim with others who had the same idea when they walked out of their office buildings at 5. Where people responded to your “sorry” with their “sorry”. Where you were, right now.
Joe’s days in LA were complex, and his job involved many aspects he didn’t have any control over which started taking its toll on him. Especially now that he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a few days. On long days like this one, people would almost seem to handle him like he wasn’t a human being at all. They were all smiles and kind words, but the hours he’d have to work felt inhumane. They asked a lot from him. And that’s not to forget that when Joe would eventually find himself in the comfort and silence of the rented apartment, he’d be up late reading scripts, rehearsing lines, doing self-tapes and deep diving Wikipedia pages in research of characters he would audition for later in the week.
It left him frustrated, moody and snappy, which wasn’t Joe’s default setting, and he actively disliked this version of himself. It didn’t help that the days had started piling together and he’d let it build without mentioning it to anyone. He knew he had to when he’d taken a shower and het let the emotion hurt him in his throat rather than getting it out of his system by having a cry.
There only seemed one solution to his problem, besides actually cutting his trip short which he knew he couldn’t do, but he felt a little apprehensive. Should he bother you with this? You had bigger fish to fry at home – you didn’t need to listen to Joe complain about opportunities he’d been working towards for so many years. But he just wanted to hear your voice. He knew you’d at least be kind enough to make him feel better. Joe remembered how you’d celebrated his upcoming trip with him. The one he was on now. It felt entirely effusive, he’d been on many trips before for his career, but you knew this one would be different. “I know I’ve said it before, but I can feel it, Joe. I can feel it right here.” You pointed to where Joe thought your spleen was located. “I think this is where my conscience sits.” You laughed. “Trust me, you’re going to come back and not recognize this face, so let me pay for your beers tonight so you’ll at least owe me when you get back.” You’d dragged him along to a pub, pride shining out of your eyes at what Joe’s future held. Prouder of me than my own mother, Joe thought.
You and Joe had been friends for too long. You always joked that you crowbarred your way into his life and squeezed yourself in between Joe’s intrusive thoughts and insecurities. A heavy bench to perch yourself on, but your light could easily overtake that darkness within Joe’s mind. And he loved you for it, but it made meeting potential girlfriends so much more difficult, because none of them seemed to live up to what you brought him. They’d be so pretty, but then not as funny as you were. Or they’d be so funny, but they’d lack your soft care for him. Or they’d care so much, but would only listen to Joe and then not do anything to cheer him up. It was always something that didn’t feel right. You were hogging the seat on that bench in his mind that was reserved for a lover. And Joe knew it wasn’t smart, but he let you.
“Sorry,” Joe heard movement of duvet covers as you turned over in your bed. “It’s still Thursday here.” He chuckled through a wince.
A couple of seconds of silence followed, and Joe imagined you in the dark of your bedroom, tucked up in your bed with your phone pressed to your ear and your eyes still closed.
“How’s LA?” you asked, threateningly close to drifting off to sleep again.
“It’s great.” But then you heard it in Joe’s voice, he stitch of melancholy, and you forced your eyes open. Joe wasn’t doing okay.
“That bad?”
“No, really. It’s great! It’s just… it’s a lot.” Joe let his head fall back against the sofa he was sat on.
“Were you expecting it not to be?” Joe could hear the smile that played on your face. He was fine with you poking a little fun, knowing it would give way for bickering that held every potential to lighten his mood.
“You don’t really know what it’s like until you’re here. Until you’re in it.” He defended.
“You sound tired,” you observed. “Get some sleep, it’ll all feel better in the morning.” Your advice filled Joe’s chest with warmth. He knew you were right. “I’m so jealous I’m not there,” you noticed the rain hitting your bedroom windows hard. “It’s really pissing it down here at the moment.”
Joe closed his eyes. He’d love some rain right now, even if it was just to reflect his mood.
“You wouldn’t like it here. This place is heartless.” Joe didn’t exactly have the highest of expectations of LA before having visited, but the way homelessness and decay laid around the corner of the glamour and shine of Hollywood had left a bad taste in his mouth.
“You just say that because your heart’s in London.” You reasoned.
With you, Joe thought.
“How many days until you’re back?” you stifled a yawn, prompting Joe to do the same.
“Too many… like, eleven?” Joe wasn’t sure. “Maybe ten.”
And as you started getting ready to slowly ease yourself into your last day of work before the weekend, Joe started getting ready to finish his day and prepared himself for bed. It was almost as if you were there with him in LA, and simultaneously he was there with you in London.
You chatted about an issue at work as you both brushed your teeth – Joe could barely make out the words. Joe talked about an amazing restaurant he’d been to as you got dressed. The company he’d been in had ruined the experience, so next time, he said, he’d go there with you. You did your make-up as you offered Joe advice on how to find the silver linings, reminding him he was doing good things, great things for himself out there. Joe washed his face as he absorbed every bit of positivity from you that leaked through the speaker of his phone.
And when you opened the curtains in your living room, you could hear Joe close the curtains in his bedroom.
“Goodnight Joey, turn that big brain off, all right? Count to infinity if you must.”
“Have a good day at work,”
“Love you, sleep tight.” You tried your best to say it as a friend, but the butterflies in your stomach seeped through, just... slightly.
“Love you.” Joe tried his best to say it as more than a friend, hearing your butterflies and feeling his own in response.
—
The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl @kylakins88 - add yourself
258 notes
·
View notes
Home sick
Host!Parents Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Host! Daughter
Materialist: It's New York, baby!
W/c: 2202
Summary: After spending a year abroad with your host moms, you come home to Italy. Since returning you have avoided your host moms to try to alleviate their lack, instead you find yourself experiencing home sickness for the place where you truly felt at home.
Warnings: anxiety attack, homesickness, alcohol, a little bit of angst and fluff.
Notes: this is my first post on tumblr and i'm still trying to understand how it works, anyway this is just a random thing i wrote a lot ago but i can devolop it a little more if you like it. hope you enjoy <3
"Who are they?" Your gaze moves from the wine glass in your hands to your lighted phone placed on the table.
The sound of a message has attracted the curiosity of this former high school friend of yours who is now scanning your eyes for an answer.
Your lips curl into a faint smile because the photo you have as your lock screen represents your moms, or rather, your host moms.
It's not a particular photo, it's a selfie you took on a December day: you're in the center with one of those jaw-hurting smiles and sparkly eyes while your host moms are at your sides, holding you tight to them, and they smile as much as you smile.
Natasha is on your right with her hair, red in contrast with the blonde tips, encased in a braid that you have seen her wearing so many times. Her arm is placed around your shoulders and her smile is sweet and full of love, sometimes you've allowed yourself to think that kind of smile was reserved only for you and Wanda.
And then there is the latter, which is to your left with her ginger head resting delicately next to yours and her usual sweet and calm smile. In her arms she has Liho, the black cat with the most yellowish eyes you've ever seen, and he looks at the camera with a curious look.
You remember that day very well especially as you begged Natasha most of the day to take a picture, Wanda giggled every time you pouted at Nat's negative responses until she succumbed to your puppy eyes. She let out a big sigh and she took off her glasses and started massaging her forehead: "detka, only one photo though".
You jumped for joy, although you know perfectly well Natasha is not a fan of these things, you needed to create at least a vivid memory of this love nest you happened to be in.
And while it wasn't the best photo in history, it was okay with you tho. The photographic process of that shot left you with a lot of laughter, especially for the Russian clumsiness, and cuddles from both women.
"My host moms. I lived with them all my year abroad in New York."
A lump forms in your throat because that life, which lasted just a year, misses you like never before. Your friend smiles at you "they seem like great people, did you have a good relationship?"
Your gaze falls into the glass in your hand half full of that liquid that was cold just now, your hand moves gently while the wine sways slowly. "We had it."
The little lunch organized by some of your old high school mates soon came to an end, slipped from your hands between one life update and another.
Your house is currently deserted, you vaguely remember your parents informing you of their late return this morning between complaints and ramblings.
You sigh and pour yourself a glass of vodka as you stand at the kitchen counter and try not to cry because you feel home sick even if you are already home.
You try hard not to imagine Natasha walking into the kitchen and running towards you to take your glass from your hand, only to show you how to drink vodka "the right way".
You also squint so as not to let the tears fall at the thought of seeing Wanda enter the kitchen too, with a mixed look of impatience and amusement, to remove the vodka from your hands and lightly scold the Russian.
You let out a shaky sigh and drain your glass of vodka just like Yelena, Natasha's sister, taught you at one of the many family dinners.
Your head is heavy as it falls on the pillow, your eyes focused on the ceiling and only now do you allow yourself to drop hot tears on your cheeks.
You miss home, you miss your mothers, you miss your family, you miss that life, your friends and the love that that environment gave you. Your phone vibrates in your trouser pocket, you take it out slowly bringing it before your tearful eyes
Mama
Malysh, how are you? Did you eat today? We miss you so much.
And your tears fall like a waterfall as well as your heart. You want so badly to take the plane back to them, back to a place where you truly felt safe and loved.
Mommy
Detka, I finished the book you recommended, I liked it. When you have some free time, would you like to talk about it?
Mommy
Oh, Yelena and Kate say hello to you.
Mommy
Me and Mama too.
Mama
Photo: Milaya, the flowers we planted together have started to grow, look!
Mommy
Baby, could you answer us? Mama and I are a lot worried. Others too, we want to hear from you. We know it was hard to come back home but don't cut ourselves off from your life like nothing had happened. We still want to be your moms and we still want you to be our baby.
Mommy
Please, detka.
Your sight becomes faded while the silence that reigns in the house is broken by your sobbing pains; breathing becomes more and more hard and the oxygen less and less.
You didn't intend to cut them out of your life but, how could you go on living knowing your safe place is on the other side of the world?
So you just stopped keeping in touch with them, thought that eventually they would soon have another kid to host and forget about you. You are actually wrong.
You feel your phone still vibrating but, you decide to ignore it as it slowly resurfaces in your head the day you left that house.
The alarm clock that morning seemed noisier than usual, you reached out to turn it off in less than a few seconds, you didn't sleep that night because you wanted to memorize every single space in that room.
You sighed and got lost in the colors of dawn while the semi-cold breeze hesitated to caress your skin, you sighed trying not to start letting the tears slip.
You slowly made your way to the room of your host moms, both still asleep, and you didn't hesitate for a second to get into the bed between them.
Wanda unconsciously wrapped her arms around your waist while Natasha made room for you on her chest; you could hear her heartbeat and it was always calming you down.
"Malysh, we should get up" Nat's voice was raspy, you shook the head and nuzzled more into her "I don't want to go away".
"We know, baby, we don't want it too" Wanda planted a sweet kiss in your hair and you once again had to stop yourself from bursting into tears. You didn't want them to see you broken, especially since you always thought maybe you weren't that important to them. But, again, you were wrong.
After making you get out of bed with difficulty, the two women started preparing breakfast and you were sitting on the counter; from time to time Wanda or Nat would make you taste something to test the "flavor" even if it was just an excuse to get you to eat.
There were days when because of anxiety you could never eat when you had a plate in front of you, so your host moms came up with this "excuse" to make you eat something.
And that day they didn't even have to ask you if you were anxious, they just knew it, a bit like almost every time it happened.
Anyway for the rest of the morning Wanda and Nat helped you pack the last few things and some "goodbye" gifts the rest of the family had given you the night before at Tony's party, who he throw in your honor.
After you were alone in your room for a while, Liho came over to sit on your lap and started giving you little licks on your fingers while you used your other hand to stroke him. At that moment your tears gave way to your efforts and started flowing down your cheeks uninterruptedly.
Liho meowed softly as the room filled with sobs and it didn't take long for a knock on the door to fill the room with soft kisses and sweet nothings from your host moms.
"Detka, it's going to be okay, don't cry" Nat tried to calm you down by stroking your back, your face buried in Wanda's chest.
"Mama don't let me go" another sob and both women's hearts twitched in pain "Sh, sh, Malysh, sh" Wanda cooed as she slowly swayed. "Mommy, I'm scared" your eyes fell on nat's green ones.
Natasha gently took your face and looked into your tearful eyes "Detka you don't have to be afraid to go home, everything will be fine because you are our little girl who learned so much and grew up, you are different now and stronger. "
"Me and Mama we're so proud of you and coming home won't make you any less our baby." Wanda nodded in agreement and continued to calm you down as Nat repeated sweet and encouraging nothings to you.
When at the airport your flight was announced, Wanda fixed your jacket and stroked your cheeks trying to dry the tears that never stopped falling.
"Malysh, please eat one of the sandwiches I made for you on the plane ok? They're Pb&J just the way you like them." You nodded and sniffled, the Sokovian held you in her arms again, you sighed and she left you a kiss on your forehead before leaving you to Nat.
You kissed Liho's head, you insisted several times on taking him to the airport and the two women couldn't tell you no, "take care, dorogoy, plese text us when you land, okay?" The readhead kissed your forehead too and both of them in tears held you close to them for the thousandth time that day. "We love you so much."
You sniffled as you pulled away from their arms "i love you too" and gathered your bags "I left a letter on your bed", you smiled as the two women sought refuge in their arms of the other.
You looked back several times and the instinct not to take that plane was strong, but in the end you went up and cried for hours until exhaustion overwhelmed you.
When you arrived you texted both women to know that you had landed and since then you have given her nothing but silence.
Now the phone continues to vibrate and without reading and indulging further you call Nat, the sound of the rings as loud as the beating of your heart.
"Detka, oh god" the Russian voice is the first thing you hear "Mommy", your voice is hoarse from the tears "my baby, don't cry, we're here, my love." Wanda's voice is the second thing you hear and your heart feels complete "Mama."
You cough hard and the air in your lungs seems little "hey, hey, dorogoy, calm down",
"sh, sh, hey malysh. Mommy and I are here, c'mon four in and four out just like we practiced."
Your breathing is still heavy and the two women on the other side of the phone - and the world - feel helpless. "I want to go home" you babbled between breaths.
The two women tried to avoid the pain of their hearts at feeling you so destroyed, they always knew that coming home would be difficult for you and they could not help but reassure you that it would be okay.
But would it really have gone so well if they too felt so empty at the thought of having you so far away?
Nat desperately tries to comfort you by whispering sweet nothings to you while Wanda helps bring your breathing back to normal, but it's so hard when they can't hold you in their arms and protect you forever.
When you have calmed down a little you feel your eyes burn with tears and you already know that they are red and your face is worn out with tears, "where's Liho?"
You hear a little meow, you did not expect to hear it close to that emotion being on the phone but, you and the cat, had bonded so much that sometimes he too acted as a comfort together with the two women.
You chuckle softly in response, and even though you don't see them, Nat and Wanda smile at the interaction. They continue to talk to you quietly while they tell you the news that has happened already knowing very well that after an anxiety attack the only thing that calms you down is hearing their voices talking about anything.
Your body is clinging to the pillow of your bed and you force your mind to imagine that it is the chest of one of the two host moms and while Nat is lost in telling you about the latest trouble that Yelena and Pietro have been up to, you fall asleep feeling a little more in peace and at home.
536 notes
·
View notes