#elliot should shut up challenge

[anneonomus]

pre-robin baby stalker tim as a streamer. that’s it that’s the post

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Exclusive Past- Monochrome Scenery translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT ⚠️

This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the story that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Through Thousands of Mirrors Event | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | HS/Uni SSR Story: Monochrome Scenery (You're here!)

[Notes from Lux: Here’s the CN video link if anyone wants to follow along his Voice Acting. VERY recommended to re-read Until Dawn R&S regarding his 'contract' with BS. AND perhaps Distant Similarity UR MQ as it's the date that is relevant to this story.

-

[Part 1]

I walk hurriedly towards Dr. Lawson's laboratory, while opening the paper bag in my hand, and stuffing the hamburger into my mouth.

Skipping lunch might save some time, but if it leads to a lack of carbohydrates and sugar, causing a decrease in productivity during the entire afternoon, it could be counterproductive.

When will nutritionists finally invent nutritional packages? Preferably in the form of a liquid that can be consumed just once a day.

The time saved this way would be enough for me to read a few more research papers.

??: Hi, Lucien. Are you going to the lab?

A friendly voice from behind rings out, and I turn to look behind me.

Lucien: Hello, Elliot.

Elliot: Seems like we're both going to be late.

Elliot quickly crosses a puddle, only slowing down after catching up with my steps.

Elliot: But I recall you've always been punctual. Did the recent lab class not go smoothly?

Lucien: I chatted with Professor White for a while and lost track of time.

Elliot: Ah, I understand. She's always very talkative... The only one who can talk as much as her is my clinical medicine professor.

Elliot sighed deeply and pointed at the teaching building he had walked from. We quicken our pace once more.

When we arrive at the lab, Senior Caroline has already begun today's work.

Just as I put my bag next to my desk, someone heavily pats my back.

??: Hi!!

The overly enthusiastic voice pierces through my eardrums, and without turning around, I know it's Colt.

Now that he's here, his daily challenges are probably about to begin again.

Sure enough, after greeting me, Colt slightly composes himself and looks at me.

Colt: Good afternoon, "Xiū, Mǒ" How's that, did I pronounce it correctly this time?

Lucien: It's "Xǔ Mò".

He scratches his head in frustration and quickly starts a new round of attempts.

Lucien: Actually, you can just call me "Lucien".

Colt: How can that be acceptable? I have great respect for Chinese culture; I'll definitely learn how to pronounce your name!

Colt raises his eyebrows high, and the confident expression on his face is so exaggerated that it could be used as a reference for the facial expression scale.

I give up trying to explain to him that "respect" and "pronunciation" are not causally related, and I put on my protective gear after setting down my bag.

I hope he succeeds soon and gives up making me his involuntary Chinese teacher, where I'm only tasked with examining two words every morning.

Caroline: Shut up, Colt. Leave Lucien alone and come over here to work, okay?

Caroline who was immersed in her experiment furrows her brow and glares at Colt, using her gaze to reprimand the "senior" lab member who has been there the longest.

In the end, she smiles and greets me.

Caroline: How's it going today, Xǔ Mò?

Lucien: Sorry for being late. Where should I start taking over from now?

Colt: This isn't fair! You've never greeted me with such a smile. Wait, why is your pronunciation correct? One more time, Xiū... Xī…

Like everyone else, I calmly ignore Colt's continuous self-challenges and begin today's work.

As a newcomer who has been in the lab for just about a month, there isn't much for me to do.

In fact, everyone here is more like doing their own research in the lab on topics they are passionate about, while occasionally helping Dr. Lawson with minor tasks.

Looking back, it seems that this casual and free atmosphere could be glimpsed from the very beginning, during that interview with just two questions.

-

=Flashback Start=

Dr. Lawson: You have an excellent research experience, and the awards you've received are enough to apply to even more top-notch labs.

Dr. Lawson: Why did you choose to reach out to me?

The doctor set my application paper and the stack of recommendation letters aside, looking into my eyes.

Lucien: I'm currently very interested in topics related to parietal lobe function research and its applications.

Lucien: So, for me, your lab is the best choice.

Dr. Lawson: Hmm, there is indeed a high match in terms of research direction.

Dr. Lawson: So, what do you hope the lab can provide for you?

I instinctively thought I had misheard.

Questions like "What do you think you can bring to the lab?" are ones I've mastered, but this reverse question isn't as common.

After a brief moment of thought, I honestly answered.

Lucien: If possible, I hope to research more of what I'm interested in within the limited time.

The doctor raised an eyebrow without giving a clear response, concluding this brief interview that lasted less than a few minutes. And a few days later, he sent me an acceptance email.

=Flashback End=

Colt: Hey, Xī Mó! Listen to me, I have a great idea!

Probably seeing that I'm not especially busy, Colt eagerly strides over to my desk, holding a small box in his hand.

I set down the keyboard, take out a notebook from the side, and turn towards him.

Colt's thought process is unique; he always manages to come up with some innovative ideas.

Lucien: Do you have any new ideas regarding the research topic?

Colt: No, no, there's not much to do today. How about a game of the traditional lab card game - NOU!

Colt: Do you want to join?

Lucien: …

And of course, there are times when it's just pure time-wasting.

I offer a polite and apologetic smile in return.

Lucien: No, thank you.

-

[Part 2]

A fixed routine can often lead to a skewed perception of time and dates.

I flip over the calendar again and mark the schedule for the midterm exam week, which is about half a month away.

Exams may not be a cause for concern, but papers and classroom presentations still require time-consuming preparation.

I furrow my brow as I look at the data for my research project on my desk. Just as I'm about to set down my pen, I pause.

The current issue is that the research progress is slower than anticipated, requiring extra time to meticulously review the results.

The once well-structured plan has become exceptionally tight.

How about cutting two hours off my sleep? It shouldn't significantly affect my regular routine.

And smoothly, a blank section appears on the spreadsheet.

Satisfied, I add a line next to my schedule: "Email Dr. Lawson to request an extension of laboratory usage time" as a reminder.

Then, I pick up the already printed poster and leave the dorm on time.

It's my turn to present a report in class today.

Lucien: Hello, everyone. Now it's my turn to share something with all of you.

Whispers of discussion arise one after another, even a few students who had just been yawning straightened up in their seats.

Half the semester has passed, and the curious glances that used to accompany me have subsided. My age, my height, and where I come from might not be as important anymore.

I know very well that now all the curious and probing gazes are focused solely on the poster I have unfolded.

In the corner of my eye, someone raises their hand.

Lucien: Is there a question?

I set down my materials and quietly look at the student who raises their hand.

Student A: I don't have any questions about your presentation. I'm just curious if injuries in the relevant brain region have an impact on drug addiction?

This is an expected question, as I myself noticed similar uncertainties when researching for literature.

Lucien: There is indeed an overlap, but based on existing research, I don't believe there is a direct correlation between the two.

Lucien: Moreover, for the topic I'm currently presenting, there's no need to overly emphasize the impact of different functions within the same area.

But it's evident that the other person doesn't share the same view.

After a brief moment of silence, he raises the issue of potential effects caused by drugs, and I counter each of his points.

However, the consecutive inquiries and debates have actually given me a fresh perspective on the topic at hand.

I attempt to work it out in my head, then take a pen and start writing on the whiteboard.

Lucien: Adding the drug effects caused by addiction as one of the conditions…

Lucien: I currently lack the relevant literature evidence, further substantiation will require future research, but I do have some hypotheses.

The rapidly moving marker on the whiteboard makes a slight squeaking sound as I write, and more questions and discussions emerge in the classroom.

Student B: Given the drug effects, the current papers seem somewhat lacking in rigor.

Student C: But we also shouldn't overly focus on such special cases, just from an experimental perspective…

These ideas and questions aren't quite direct and precise enough.

But the known theorems are once again filled with possibilities, and what I initially considered just a school assignment topic seems to have become interesting again.

The brilliance of the unknown and curiosity subtly shine through the structured words, silently beckoning everyone who tries to explore the mysteries.

Of course, I'm also paying the corresponding "price" for this "interest".

Class ends nearly twenty minutes later than scheduled, and I can only jog all the way, hoping not to be too late for the next classroom.

As I gaze at the ever-extending street ahead, I begin to understand why so many people are buying bicycles.

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

Lucien: Good afternoon, I hope I'm not too late.

Caroline: Of course not. Take a rest for a while. There isn't much to do today.

Caroline looks up, smiles at me, and points to the well-stocked snack cabinet on the side.

I put down my backpack, intending to pick up my water bottle to get some water, but I notice that there's a stack of data on the table that I haven't worked on, with several annotations written in different handwriting.

Slender and smooth cursive characters detail the model's construction and calculation process, while round and hastily written words explain extensive contemplation and inferences, along with many grammar errors.

Slightly smaller handwriting marks cited references and related experiments.

Lucien: Are these... further derivations based on my personal research project?

A head pokes out from the edge of the table.

Colt smiles and waves at me, with Caroline and Elliot following behind.

Several people stand by the table, making the already small space seem even smaller.

Colt: Well, I heard about the direction of your project a few weeks ago during the meeting and found it very interesting. I got into the habit of discussing it with Caroline when we were chatting…

Caroline gives an apologetic smile.

Caroline: I'm really sorry. Colt looked at your desk and research notes without your permission.

Caroline: He usually doesn't have a strong sense of boundaries when he's around us, and we've become used to it. We didn't expect him to go through your research materials this time.

Caroline: I initially wanted to refuse to discuss it with him, but the research direction is so novel, and the reasons for the roadblock are also quite intriguing. It was easy to get carried away…

The research content is indeed not much of a privacy concern, and exchanging data and projects is quite normal.

Lucien: Next time, we could discuss it during the regular meeting or just talk to me directly. It would be more efficient.

Lucien: However…

I quietly watch the smiling faces of others, my puzzlement still not answered.

Lucien: As I recall, my direction doesn't really overlap with yours, does it?

Caroline: Yes, so we've just made some inferences. The specifics still require you to take another look.

Lucien: Okay.

I lower my head again and begin to roughly browse through those handwritings.

Colt didn't propose a new direction but changed the experimental approach, while Caroline and Elliot used this to present arguments or counterarguments.

Different notes mutually fill in and correct each other, gradually outlining a clear framework.

Lucien: This hypothesis seems to have a high feasibility.

Lucien: I will try to adjust the experiment according to this approach later.

Lucien: At a suitable time in the future, based on the specific data, we can determine whether it can move forward or not.

Colt: Sure, it can!

Colt nods vigorously, his voice much louder than usual.

Colt: I've noticed that you've been busy with midterm exams and papers lately, so I ran some of the data with them to save you from spending extra time to test and verify the data.

Colt: So far, several graphs are looking quite good. I hope they can be of help to you!

Lucien: …All of the data?

I'm stunned.

I've already prepared to apply for extra lab time, but the data I needed to test and verify has just landed directly in my hands like this.

Colt: Of course! The three of us taking turns won't take much time, better than you staying here without eating or drinking.

On the side, Elliot also smiles and hands over another stack of documents.

Elliot: I asked a friend who's a clinical medicine student, and I was able to get some research materials on what happens when you have a lesion in the area in question.

Elliot: Perhaps it can offer some assistance from a different perspective. Consider it as broadening your perspective.

Lucien: Thank you. I did plan to reference some research findings from other fields, but unfortunately, I haven't had enough time recently.

A valuable idea to consider, coupled with readily available data, and the issue that had been stagnant for two weeks was suddenly solved without any warning.

I silently look at the mixed handwriting.

I know that human beings will always help each other and work together to achieve what individuals can't do alone.

Relying on each other for certain aspects and independently taking on the needs of others within the same community.

But along with the objective facts, there is also an inexplicable and faint warm feeling surging to my heart.

The seemingly ordinary paper in my hand now vaguely has a different weight to it.

Lucien: (gently) Thank you, all of you.

Colt: Hey, kid.

Colt smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder.

Colt: We're all from the same lab, so helping each other is only natural.

-

[Part 3]

After the last meeting before the autumn break, Dr. Lawson stopped me.

Dr. Lawson: Lucien, do you have any plans for the autumn break?

Dr. Lawson is organizing the reports we submitted, his tone is calm.

Lucien: I'm staying on campus. If there's a need for someone to oversee the lab, I can help.

Dr. Lawson: You aren't going home?

I smile and reply in the same tone that Colt and the others usually use when joking around.

Lucien: Returning to Loveland City during such a short one-week break?

Dr. Lawson smiles and shakes his head.

Dr. Lawson: How about going nearby? You still have time to plan a short trip with friends.

Dr. Lawson: There are plenty of interesting places within the state worth seeing. Take a train or bus, and "whoosh," it's easy to get around.

Lucien: That sounds appealing, but I'd prefer to take this opportunity to catch up on my project and coursework progress.

Lucien: Recently, my research has just started to make some progress. I'd like to work on it nonstop until I achieve some results.

Lucien: Or is it just that during the autumn break, the school doesn't allow students to stay on campus?

Dr. Lawson: Of course not, silly kid.

Dr. Lawson: I'm just curious, why are you always in such a hurry?

I quietly look at the old man in front of me.

There are too many things I want to explore, and there's too little time.

Nevertheless, I don't feel that I appear "impatient" in my usual behavior.

The doctor shakes his head and taps the table with his fingers.

Dr. Lawson: At your age, you should go out more, travel, play games, take walks, do something silly... Just do anything to waste time and enjoy life.

Dr. Lawson: You do have an impressive intellect, but there are geniuses all around here. So, frankly, you're also an ordinary kid.

Lucien: ….

I've never thought of myself as a once-in-a-lifetime genius, but being straightforwardly labeled as "ordinary" is indeed a first for me.

And, of course, being labeled "in a hurry" is also a first.

Lucien: I don't quite understand what you mean, Doctor.

After a brief silence, I eventually chose to ask the question directly.

Dr. Lawson: I don't doubt your abilities. Lucien, you can accomplish many things by yourself.

Dr. Lawson: But you should also trust your team, after all, this laboratory doesn't consist of just you alone.

He casually points to a group of people in the distance who are playing NOU, and over there, it's particularly noisy, as if the game of cards is reaching a conclusion.

Caroline proudly crosses her arms and looks sideways at Colt, who is slumped over the table, looking dejected.

Elliot begins to tidy up the card table and starts shuffling the cards again.

Dr. Lawson: They're all kids in their late teens to early twenties here in the lab. Came a few years before you, and perhaps they'll leave a few years earlier as well.

Dr. Lawson: But in the road of scientific research, everyone is just a beginner taking their first steps.

Dr. Lawson: I'm not asking you to really study and imitate anyone, but doing something different from your usual routine might make you gain something special. What do you think?

The doctor slows down his voice, his calm tone not resembling a question, it's as if he's talking about the treasure that he is most proud of.

The stack of data with various annotations from a few days ago inexplicably resurfaces in my memory.

I subconsciously infer that when the doctor said, "You're just an ordinary kid", perhaps it meant, "There are many people like you here."

Looking at Dr. Lawson again, he remains as not casual and serious as he was during class. His words are solemn and genuine with a touch of guidance.

Dr. Lawson: If you haven't achieved any significant progress or results within a week, there's no need to lock yourself in the lab every day. But if you need to, remember to turn off the lights and lock the door.

I carefully put away the key he had placed on the table.

Lucien: I'll keep an eye out for it.

Dr. Lawson: Happy holidays.

Lucien: I also wish you a happy holiday.

I say goodbye to him, and as I walk to the door, the doctor adds another sentence.

Dr. Lawson: Take care. And of course, I mean not just during these vacation days.

He smiles at me, speaking a bit slower than usual.

Lucien: You too, Doctor. Take care.

"Take care." The simple sentence passes through my mind, lingering longer than the other phrases.

I think maybe it's because of the pronunciation.

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

The teaching building has become much quieter during the holidays.

The leaves outside the window are rustling. It's as if the entire city is reminding people of the traces of autumn.

The laboratory feels strangely colder than usual after I'm the only one left.

I closed the window, put on my sweatshirt, and continued with the experiment at hand.

However, the autumn chill didn't last long and was soon warmed up again by the lingering heat of summer.

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

Five days later, along with the rising temperature, what returned was the noisy chatter within the laboratory.

The first to arrive at the laboratory is the always-diligent Caroline.

She brings a larger-than-usual handbag, takes out beautifully wrapped gifts, and places them on everyone's table one by one.

Caroline: A few days ago, I went to Yellowstone National Park with my family and brought back some souvenirs.

Lucien: Thank you. How was your holiday?

Caroline: It was pretty good, though I wish it could have been longer. I feel like I could stay there for at least half a month.

Caroline: I thought you might prefer something more practical, so I brought this for you. Go ahead and open it.

She smiles and points to the gift box I had placed by the desk. Inside the neatly wrapped layers of gift paper is a coffee mug, with the design of erupting geysers on its surface.

Caroline: This is a landmark sight in the park. I was truly moved when I saw it erupt right on time. I really wish everyone in the lab could go see it!

Lucien: I'll go there if I get the chance in the future.

??: Hi friends! I'm back! Did you miss me during your wonderful holiday?

The next second, a figure rushes in through the door of the laboratory.

Colt is also carrying a package, which is twice the size of Caroline's.

Colt: Oh my god... you're actually working. That's way too diligent.

He looks at me with wide eyes. After some rummaging in the package, there's another gift on my desk.

Colt: I highly recommend trying my grandma's cookies. Even the most popular shops around here can't compete with her skills.

Colt: Oh, by the way, the bookmarks inside were made by my mom. She's recently gotten into handicraft, and our house is getting filled with the things she makes.

Lucien: Please thank your family on my behalf.

Colt: Then they'd be so delighted that they might just invite you over as a guest.

Colt: By the way, do you really spend every day in the lab? Haven't you had any rest at all?

Colt sits down next to me, looking like he won't give up until he gets an answer.

Lucien: I visited a few museums.

Lucien: I also visited some scenic spots along the way and strolled through the market.

Caroline: I remember a few days ago there was a Shakespearean touring theater group performing nearby. Have you heard about it? The performance…

The computer screen in front of me enters screensaver mode, and I realize that I should politely decline this conversation to reactivate the computer and continue processing the data I was in the middle of reviewing.

But when my fingertips touch the keyboard, I pause again.

Such conversations don't have much meaning, but they don't make me feel annoyed either.

Besides, today's progress has been completed ahead of schedule, and there is indeed some free time on my agenda.

I let the screen continue playing the screensaver images.

Colt: How about we also go see a play today?

Lucien: The theater troupe left the day before yesterday, and tickets also needed to be booked in advance.

During the conversation, the laboratory door is pushed open once again.

Elliot: Hey, I thought I was the earliest one here.

Elliot also has a delicately wrapped gift in his hands.

Same greetings, same small talk, and same distribution of gifts.

I look at the three gifts on the desk- I should have some time over the weekend to visit the market and find three suitable return gifts.

Before the plan has been finalized, another particularly large gift appears on my desk.

Dr. Lawson: You all should find these books useful.

Dr. Lawson smiles and nods at us, placing the hefty books one by one on our respective desks, before finally sitting back in the chair and letting out a sigh of relief.

Dr. Lawson: I really should have chosen some lighter gifts; four big books are too heavy for an old man like me.

Lucien: ....Looks like it's four gifts.

I say to myself softly.

Dr. Lawson: Hmm? Did you say something, Lucien?

Lucien: Nothing. I was just saying… "thank you".

Lucien: By the way, Doctor. Here's the key to the laboratory.

The small key that has been with me for five days is returned to its rightful owner.

The gentle breeze blows a book on my table, flipping back a page as fallen leaves dance lightly and land on the windowsill.

I glance at the cloudless sky, hoping that this weekend will also be a sunny day, suitable for going out.

-

[Part 4]

Everyone left the laboratory with the gifts, but Colt unexpectedly broke from his usual behavior and didn’t attend any party.

Instead, he followed Elliot and me all the way to our dormitory building.

Elliot: Colt, your dormitory isn't over here.

Colt: I know, I know. But on this especially memorable day, how about a game of NOU to celebrate? Here's to our reunion!

Elliot: I knew it... I don't want to play NOU with just the two of us. You better invite one more person.

Colt: Will Xù mò be joining us?

Colt looks up at me, and this is the 16th invitation he has extended to me since I joined this laboratory.

Lucien: Okay.

Colt: It's fine, maybe next time... Wait, what?!

Elliot: You're going to join us?!

They aren't the only ones confused, I'm also a bit puzzled myself.

The choices I've made today are all a bit out of the ordinary, and it makes me wonder why I want to act the way I do.

If I join, will I be able to find the answers?

Besides... Looking at the two of them that have the same expression as if they've just seen a new topic; if I want to refuse now, the amount of effort required doesn't seem proportional to the outcome.

Lucien: Yes.

Lucien: I don't have any other plans for today-

Before I could finish speaking, the two of them had already surrounded me, one on the left and one on the right.

Colt: Is this the blessing of the Autumn Break God! Elliot, let's go quickly.

Elliot: Lucien won't run away again this time.

Saying so, he continues to pull me without stopping towards a small table in the public lounge area.

Just as we sit down at the small table, Colt eagerly begins to shuffle the cards.

Elliot: Do you need an explanation of the rules?

Lucien: No need.

Having watched them play so many times, I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the rules of the game, and the symbols on the corners of the cards also help me determine their colors.

I'll consider it as an exercise in reasoning and memory then.

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

Elliot: NOU, +2!

Colt: Wait a minute, that's not right. You're cheating! Why do you have a red +2?

After the initial "demonstration round", I quickly realized that this game might not be as straightforward as I had imagined.

Lucien: ...Drawing a +2 card directly from the deck is not entirely impossible either.

Colt: Huh? +2 should be in your hand, right?

Colt: Judging by the overall color distribution of the cards played, it seems like you're building a hand predominantly based on red cards.

Lucien: However, based on the cards that have already been played, there are still 28% red cards left in the deck.

Lucien: I would need to draw that +2 card along with another red number card starting from at least the first four rounds to maintain an advantage without playing the +2.

Elliot: My dear friend, just admit that low probability is still probability and draw the cards.

I nod in silence and urge Colt to draw a card, preventing the game from turning into his endless mathematical calculations.

If that happens, he will build a solid model in his mind and he'll be almost impossible to beat.

I take another look at the situation on the card table.

Setting Colt aside for now, among Elliot's three cards, there should only be blue and green ones.

Or in an extremely low-probability scenario, there might be one Wild card or possibly the last +4 card aside from mine.

I closely watch each card played, rapidly calculating the possible card arrangements in others' hands in my mind.

And I'm equally aware that the other two people sitting at the card table are also making their own deductions in their own ways.

I need to conduct another experiment, even if the cost is higher than expected value.

It's my turn once again.

Lucien: Change color, let's go with... blue.

Colt, who is determined to beat Elliot, wears a worried expression, while Elliot confidently draws a card.

"Reverse."

I silently say to myself.

Elliot: Reverse.

The variables waiting to be filled in gradually decrease, and assuming confirmation is obtained, the inference is established.

The opportunity to determine the course of the card game on the table comes back to me once again.

Colt: Come on Xǔ mò, it's time to play a number card and join forces to eliminate Elliot early!

Lucien: Is that so? I thought I'd have a better option.

Quick responses and extensive thinking make the brain more active than usual.

A seemingly meaningless card game becomes more complex due to repeated setups and disruptions.

Pure competition for calculation speed and formulating strategies stimulate the release of neurotransmitters.

I raise the corners of my mouth and quietly play my card.

Lucien: I choose +4, green.

Due to too many unexpected situations, Colt, who had stopped calculating, begins to howl in frustration.

Elliot, sitting across the table, also appears surprised, his gaze once again scanning the cards on the table.

It's my turn again.

I smile, say NOU, and play the green number card, leaving only one of the same color in my hand and skipping the next player’s turn.

Unless the almost improbable reversal occurred when they have the last card, a color-changing card, and bring it onto the playing field from the deck

But I trust my calculations more than probability.

Colt: Xǔ mò, I thought you were my friend!

Colt has flipped his cards onto the table, giving up on the struggle.

Lucien: Of course I am. That's why I'm sitting here, playing cards with you.

I lean my chin on my hand and look at the card table, unable to suppress the victorious curve at the corner of my mouth.

Lucien: Also, thank you for calling me by my name correctly.

Unfortunately, it's still Elliot who reaches 500 points first.

Colt is not one to accept defeat easily, and he pulls us into starting a new round of the game.

The card game goes on from the afternoon into the evening, and we unknowingly gather a crowd of onlookers around us.

Centered around this small table, the dormitory that was quiet just a few hours ago is now overflowing with discussion and laughter.

We graciously give up our seats to other students who also want to give it a try and withdraw from the crowd.

Colt: Xī... Xú mò is quite skilled. If we go by rounds, he tied with Elliot.

I haven't responded yet when Elliot chuckles and shakes his head, then tosses a box of ice cream from the fridge to both Colt and me.

It's the most common chocolate ice cream with nuts and chocolate chunks added.

I've seen it in many convenience stores, but I've never been interested in buying it.

Elliot: In front of our little genius' brain, even the best luck can only yield to skill.

Colt: Sigh... the vacation is too short. It feels like it just started, and now it's already over in a blink of an eye.

Colt finished his ice cream in a few bites and tossed the empty box into the trash. He leans on the bar table, watching the new round of NOU craze.

Colt: How about we have another round of NOU to refresh ourselves after the experiment is over tomorrow?

Elliot: Lucien, are you joining as well?

Lucien: I have to start preparing for my thesis from tomorrow.

Lucien: The experiment has made progress as well, so I want to sort out the related processes.

Colt: Oh... that's a shame. But how about next time? You'll come, right?

In the dorm room without air conditioning on this autumn day, the ice cream seems to melt even faster than it would in the heat of summer.

I scoop up a spoonful of the slightly softened ice cream and put it in my mouth.

The taste of chocolate spreads with the coolness, it's sweeter than I had imagined.

Lucien: I will if I have the time.

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

After seeing them off, I close the door and start preparing for tomorrow's coursework, allowing life to return to its normal course.

A notification pops up on my laptop, indicating an email from Dr. Lawson.

"Hi, everyone. Thank you for your hard work. Our lab's project has passed the review, so you can start preparing for the academic conference that will take place in a few months."

"The conference will be held on a beautiful beach on the West Coast. Since we have ample time, you can all bring your swimsuits and enjoy some time by the water."

"Colt, as for you, don't bring too many fancy things. And definitely leave the unicorn swimming ring behind!"

I can almost imagine Dr. Lawson saying this with a furrowed brow, while Colt complains reluctantly.

"P.S. Lucien's personal research topic aligns with the conference theme. Although the application is a bit late, there will be people at the conference who have done related research."

"You can prepare a summary of your current progress and any issues you've encountered to discuss together."

"P.P.S. Welcome back, everyone."

These few short sentences make me feel a bit warm.

*Ding*

The inbox hasn't closed yet, and there's another notification sound.

The email is encrypted; its sender is Black Swan.

I glance at the calendar and realize that today is the day for the routine report.

The newly arrived email obscures most of Dr. Lawson's message, and the sharp-edged letters in the signature appear to be some kind of silent warning.

"Why are you always in such a hurry?"

Dr. Lawson asked me this before the autumn break.

Yes, children his age have plenty of time to pause, slow down, and enjoy the scenery around them.

To try, to fail, to start over from scratch, to explore endless possibilities.

But Doctor, vacations are always so short.

They always end when you least expect it.

I close the laptop and start selecting the book I want to read tonight.

----------------------------------------------------------

[Phone Call- Class Reunion]

Lucien: Hello? At this time, you should have finished washing up and lying down, right?

MC: Um! I just finished my skincare routine and am already lying down.

Lucien: You sound happier than usual. Did you have a lot of fun at the class reunion today?

MC: You can tell?~ So many people came to the gathering today! All of my old roommates were there too!

Lucien: Are they the ones in the photo you sent, who took a group picture with you?

MC: Yes! Although we've kept in touch after graduation, getting back together like this is still quite rare.

Lucien: No wonder your eyes looked a bit red in the photo.

MC: Haha... I got a little too excited.

MC: But now that I think about it, I don't recall Professor Lucien mentioning much about his own classmates or roommates?

Lucien: I do have colleagues I work with in a lab, but our relationship might not be as close as you and your friends.

MC: Do you guys meet up regularly?

Lucien: We are now in different places continuing our own projects, and most of us have our own laboratories.

Lucien: It's indeed not easy to find a time when everyone is available.

Lucien: However, we do occasionally meet at neuroscience-related academic conferences. That could perhaps be considered a sort of 'class reunion'.

MC: ...Is this what gatherings are like for scientists?

MC: What about your roommates? Do you meet up with them?

Lucien: I lived in a single room and didn't really socialize with others in the same dormitory building.

MC: Wow! That must have been so comfortable! Doesn't that mean you could do whatever you wanted?

Lucien: At that time, I thought it was very convenient to have a space where I would not be disturbed by other people.

Lucien: But now, I've come to realize that having a 'neighbor' around who can 'disturb' me at any time might actually be more comforting.

MC: Oh? Do tell, I'm all ears!.

Lucien: For instance, when I'm out, someone can help me take care of the flowers on my windowsill, or if I forget to buy new tea leaves, I can ask this special neighbor next door for a bit.

Lucien: There are also occasional biscuits and sandwiches, and if I stay up too late, I will receive reminders.

Lucien: And more importantly…

Lucien: With this neighbor lady here, the place where I live is not just a spot to rest, but can be called a home.

-

[Phone Call - Novice Period]

Lucien: I thought you were also too busy to answer my call today.

MC: I just had a meeting with the new colleagues at the company, so I didn't hear your call.

Lucien: Do you still have some work left to finish?

MC: Not exactly... it's just that this recent batch of new colleagues who joined recently has been really busy.

MC: So I decided to hold a meeting to help them improve efficiency during work hours, aiming for them to leave on time after work.

MC: After all, there's always more work to be done, right? I don't want them to wear themselves out. The way they approach overtime work makes me quite nervous.

Lucien: [chuckles] They're lucky to have a boss who cares for the well-being of employees like you.

Lucien: However, when everyone starts their first job, there's always a certain level of nervousness. So, they can only ease that nervousness by working hard.

MC: Oh? Professor Lucien, you sound quite experienced, but I suppose you didn't have such worries, did you?

Lucien: Of course not, the first time I entered a laboratory outside of school, I also needed some time to adapt.

MC: Wow, what were you like back then?

Lucien: Hmm... I had to clean lab equipment, organize data files, help with literature research—there were many mundane tasks.

MC: Pfft, so Professor Lucien also started as a working person from scratch.

Lucien: That's right. Everyone in the same lab was highly capable, so back then, I often shadowed others, observing and learning as much as I could.

MC: Were there people even more capable than you?

Lucien: [chuckle] Among them, I think I'm just an ordinary person who works hard.

MC: Professor Lucien, your concept of 'ordinary' seems quite demanding.... But I didn't expect you to have a 'novice period' as well.

Lucien: Is that such a surprise?

MC: Maybe it's because your student days were quite unique. While most people were enjoying their youth, you were immersed in scientific research.

Lucien: I suppose it all depends on one's definition of 'youth'.

Lucien: If we're talking about a phase in life where you can do what you like without worrying about consequences, where you can fully explore possibilities…

Lucien: In that case, I'd say my graduate and postgraduate years could also be considered as 'youth'.

Lucien: If you define it as having a love with someone close to you, that you can't bear to part with and always in your heart…

Lucien: In that case, I'd say my youth hasn't had a chance to slip away from me yet.

--------------------------------------------------------

[Lux's short rambling corner]

And finally, it's done 🎉 If I'm being completely honest, the reason it took so long was because I felt that the end of this story seemed 'incomplete'—and I think it turns out to be true? Because the newest birthday story feels like it completes this story.

Still, just as he mentioned in "Distant Similarity UR' MQ," he's accustomed to working alone because there was no one he could confide in, often sacrificing his own sleep to fit more into his schedule. Due to his past self-reliance, he finds himself somewhat at a loss when others offer their assistance 🥲. He's someone who is deeply touched by even the smallest acts of kindness, and you can detect a hint of confusion in his usually monotone 'thank you.'

It's heartwarming to see that he receives small acts of kindness from those around him. His college life seems less hectic thanks to the support he gets from both his friendly seniors and caring mentor 🥺. I also enjoy their harmonious yet playful team dynamic, with Colt being my personal favorite because he reminds me of Fan Zihang, hahah.

Another noteworthy point is what Dr. Lawson mentioned about him being fundamentally an ordinary kid. I think it's accurate, because beneath his 'rush to move forward' demeanor, there's also a yearning for warmth and the opportunity to slow down.

In the dorm room without air conditioning on this autumn day, the ice cream seems to melt even faster than it would in the heat of summer.

I scoop up a spoonful of the slightly softened ice cream and put it in my mouth.

The taste of chocolate spreads with the coolness, it's sweeter than I had imagined.

God, I absolutely adore PG's writing and the beautiful metaphors they weave into the story. Through the story you can see how Lucien's barrier starts to melt by the warm atmosphere. And that's because he's an inherently lonely kid who also longs for warmth and mundane life. It's just too bad that the longing he had shattered in the face of his reality. If i had to describe what I feel when I read that sentence about the email, It'd be like waking up from a sweet dream, and now the sweet dream is tinted with layers of sadness🥲. The dream was over and he had no other choice but to bury his longing so deep.

Why the constant hurry? Because he had no choice but to grow faster than other kids; he didn't have the privilege to fail and try again. Why did he keep his distance from others? Perhaps because he doesn't want to experience another loss after his parents. Why didn't he go 'home'? Because at that time he didn't have anything that can be called a 'home'. Once he wakes up from this sweet but fleeting dream, the world he's diving into is even more treacherous than hell. So in the end, he kept his distance from others just as he said in Distant Similarity UR.

Distant Similarity UR," "Until Dawn R&S," and "Monochrome Scenery" together create a comprehensive picture of his 16-year-old self. "Distant Similarity UR" sheds light on how his college experiences influenced him and his reflections on that period. "Until Dawn R&S" delves into his narrative with BS and his ambitiousness. Meanwhile, "Monochrome Scenery" reveals his more 'human' side and the sense of his relaxed college life being a sort of 'vacation' amidst the long darkness in his life… Anyway, I want to write more but my schedule is tight with all the birthday translation 🤣 Perhaps if I have time I'd write a more comprehensive analysis. Thank you for reading!

[skittishandi]

WHUMPTOBER DAY 12:

STARVATION

tags: @gala1981@hollowgast1(let me know if you'd like to be added or removed)

“Get the f-“ Elliot squirmed away, but Peter was stronger. Peter’s fingers dug painfully into his chin.

“Stay still.” He ordered.

“Fuck off.” Elliot spat directly into Peter's face, knowing there would be consequences. To be honest, he didn’t care —not one bit. He would spit on that idiot’s face all day if he could.

“Oh, that was not nice, Elliot.” Peter said, wiping his face.

“Don’t talk to me about nice, you freak.” Elliot spat again, trying to crawl away from Peter, who had him trapped, Peter’s first grabbed his shirt tightly. Elliot’s hand clawed at Peter’s wrist, trying to break free. “Let me go.”

“Sierra.” Peter barked at her direction, without looking back. She approached quickly, handing him a taser. 

“Can’t handle some words, Peter? Can’t handle me not being all polite and proper?” Elliot’s voice was taunting, challenging Peter. He yanked at Peter’s wrist again, but it didn’t budge. “You going to shock me to shut me up?”

“I’ve been so good to you, Elliot.” Peter said, pinning Elliot down, pressing his knee into Elliot’s chest. “So forgiving.” Peter said, jamming the taser down intoElliot’s ribs and flicked it on. 

Elliot’s whole body seized up, the electricity tearing through him. Elliot groaned as his muscles locked. His body instinctively tried to get away from the pain.

Peter switched the device off and handed it back to Sierra. Elliot’s body went limp for a second after the shock, too stunned to register what was happening. Peter didn’t waste the opportunity and finally took out the syringe and jabbed it into Elliot’s neck, pushing the plunger as he held Elliot down.

“That should help you calm down, Elliot. Calm your funny temper.” Peter cooed condescending, tapping Elliot’s cheek in a mocking way.

“You drugged me? That’s low.” Elliot muttered, spent due to the exchange, maybe already being under the effects of whatever he was injected with.

“Low was your behavior. Wild. Inappropriate.” Peter sat in front of him, a little sweaty himself. “Come on.” He said as he helped Elliot up to his feet.

Elliot frowned as he realized he had little control over his body. He could walk, he could— do somethings but— everything seemed off.

“I don't like this, Peter. I hate it.” He mumbled, why did he feel he so— so strange? 

Peter let him lie down on his bed. “It’ll get worse.” Peter announced with a light tone. He patted Elliot’s sides as he stood up from the bed. He walked to the drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold.

“I knew you were a kinky freak.” Elliot said as he saw what Peter was holding. “Leave me out of this, you disgu-“

Elliot was interrupted by Peter’s hand on his neck, cutting his air supply almost immediately. 

“You talk so much, little Elliot.” Peter said as he tightened his grip.

“I’m-n- not little.” Elliot wheezed as disgust crawled inside him. He hated Peter.  “Fucking sick b-as-bastard.” He managed to say, trying to lift his head, to have some leeway and trying to get some air.

“That mouth of yours again.” Peter smile as he heard Elliot’s choked sounds. “You think I’m a sick bastard, huh Elliot? Do you think I’m sick in the head?”

Elliot coughed, his legs trashed. His vision began to tunnel.

“Peter—“ Sierra said, hesitant. 

Peter snapped his head on her direction. “Don’t start.“

Sierra bit her lip and dropped her gaze. Peter sighed as he let go of his throat and sat back on Elliot’s hips. Peter watched how Elliot’s hand went immediately to his sore neck, coughing and trying to catch his breath.

“Drop it, it wasn’t that bad.” Peter said dismissively, patting his sides as if nothing had happened. 

Elliot couldn’t hold back the look of disbelief on his face. “Wasn’t — that bad?”

“No. Not at all. You spit in my face.” Peter reminded him. He reached back to his pocket and took out a pair of handcuffs. “Give me your hands.” He spat the order.

“The hell I will.” Elliot tried to resist, but Peter’s hands moved faster, an unfair race against Elliot’s sluggish movements.

The handcuffs clicked shut, locking his right wrist on the bed post. Elliot’s eyes followed Peter as his wrist instinctively pulled on the chain. “I get it,” Peter said, “we’re all on edge.” He hunched down with a groan and picked up a bucket from the closet. “So… I’ll give us all a few days to chill out.” He placed the bucket on the floor with a loud thud. Peter looked at Sierra and Elliot, his palms open and on his face an expectant look.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Elliot asked but cut himself off when Peter raised a finger.

“One more day for that.” He calmly said. 

Elliot gave him a puzzled look. He was either not following the conversation due to the drug, or Peter simply wasn’t making any sense. He didn’t have that much time to ponder on it before Peter gave a sharp head signal towards the door and him and Sierra left the room.

Alone, Elliot shifted on the bed, scooting himself back up until he was sitting. He inspected the cuff almost cutting into his wrist, Peter had closed it way too tight, again. He tested the chain out of habit, he already knew Peter wouldn't buy cheap shit.

Elliot’s hand went to his sore neck, rubbing it in slow soothing motions. What a bastard, he almost chocked me out.

Elliot stared at the door, wondering when Peter would be back, and what he would do next. As much as he hated to admit, he was feeling anxious, scared even. He’d never spit on Peter’s face, Elliot didn’t need to be a genius to know that’d piss everyone off —crazy or not. Elliot knew he was difficult but he couldn’t help to be slightly proud of it. If Peter wanted a perfect little prisoner for his sick fantasy, he’d have to look elsewhere.

Rage filled him when he realized he was trying to make sense of Peter’s psychotic behavior. Peter was insane, and Elliot needed to get out.

—- —- —- —-

Elliot woke up when he tried to roll over, only to have his arm yanked back by the chain. He groaned, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. The room was dark. Dread settled in his stomach as eyes snapped toward the other side of the bed. No sight of Peter. He exhaled.

His eyes landed on the nightstand. A clock. He reached for it. 10:28 PM. He’d slept all day. He frowned as he felt the need to go to the bathroom. A feeling of uneasiness crept deep inside him. He’d never been left unattended for that long. His eyes found on the bucket Peter had left next to the bed when realization hit him.

Delaying the inevitable would only give him an UTI. With a groan he got out of the bed and knelt to reach for the bucket. He huffed when his fingers were a good feet too far, he cursed under his breath as he reached his leg, sliding the bucket on the carpet with tiny kicks.

He tried to ignore how humiliating it felt to be doing this, the echoey sound was impossibly loud in the dead of night. He couldn’t only partly see what he was doing and to be honest, doing all that one handed was frustrating. He put his pants back up and threw himself on the bed again, scooting to the other side— Peter’s side. It did’t matter, he wanted to be as far away from the bucket as possible.

He felt filthy. His hands felt dirty, as if a thick layer of filth and grime coated his skin. Making everything he touched dirty. He longed for a shower, or at least for some water to wash his hands.

He turned, his back on the bed, not a flick of tiredness. Stupid drugs. Did that mean he’d be up all night? A fucked-up sleep schedule is the last thing he needed right now.

—- —- —- —- —- 

Noise coming from the kitchen downstairs woke him up. He knew he had sleep terrible, drifting in and out of a very light sleep. His hand landed on top of his stomach as it growled. His eyes switched to the clock on the nightstand 9:03 AM. Breakfast time. He closed his eyes as the aroma of Sierra’s coffee creeped into the room. The smell of bacon followed shortly. 

The door opened. Elliot’s eyes snapped open. Peter entered the room, his silver hair was dripping wet.

“Morning, Elliot” Peter said politely before rummaging through his haircare products. He made a celebrating wohoo after he found the product, tossing into the air and catching it.

Peter walked to the bucket, tilting it with his foot to check its contents. He nodded to himself. “Pretty much empty.” He mumbled to before turning around and walking out the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” He quickly got up from the bed and was stopped by the handcuffs. He cursed as he shot an annoyed glare at the metal chain. His eyes returned to Peter, who stopped at the door and gave him an inquisitive look. “I don’t have any food here. None I can reach. I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s breakfast.” Elliot licked his lips, trying not to sound too desperate. “I need to eat, in case you forgot.”

“Oh? No, I haven’t forgotten.” Peter smiled, “So, that’s it?” He asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before giving Elliot a thumbs up. “Marvelous. Great.” He clapped enthusiastically before walking out.

Elliot stared at the door, dumbfounded. He let himself go on the edge of bed. He could hear movement in the kitchen. More importantly, he could smell all the food being prepared. He licked his dry lips.

He’d come back. Peter had never made him go hungry. He’d beat him. He’d tase him. He’d keep him restrained 24/7. He’d choke him. He’d hit him. But everyday, like clockwork, he’d get fed. At least once a day, a big meal if Peter had gone busy with him and lost track of time.

The thing is, he didn’t come back.

After a while, no sounds were coming out of the kitchen. The aroma of food slowly faded. The house fell into its usual silence. Elliot heard Peter leave for work, shortly after, he heard Sierra leave, too.

He was alone now, for the next eight or nine hours. He was hungry. No— starving. His eyes focus on the night stand. He has to find something, anything. He rummaged through the drawers, his movements frantic. A piece of gum, or some mints. He wasn’t sure what was he looking for, just anything.

Just useless papers, cables, an old bible. He moved on to the next nightstand. That one was empty. He stood up, the restricting chain rattled, it was getting on his nerves. He grabbed a hold of the bed’s bottom frame and pulled, dragging it across the floor to the other side of the bedroom.

Elliot had never imagined he could be grateful for anything ever, not anymore, but now he was thankful that Peter was a loser with zero sense of interior design. That meant no obstacles on his path as he shifted the massive bed around. He stopped for a second to catch his breath. He was feeling weak already due to the lack of substance. 

Once he had dragged the bed far enough, he opened Peter’s drawer. Underwear in the first one. Shirts in the second one. Sweatpants in the third.

Nothing. He exhaled as he looked around, mentally checking off every place he had searched. His head throbbed, and he was getting dizzy.

Fuck Peter. Fuck him.

And fuck Sierra, too.

—- —- —- —- 

The hours dragged on. Elliot’s stomach twisted and turned, trying to digest something that wasn’t there. The emptiness in his gut was painful. The build up of yet another hunger pang was agonizing. He pressed his hand to his stomach, hoping to ease the pain, but it only made it worse. Every growl was louder than the last one. 

His head perks up as he hear a car pulled into the driveway. He quickly mustered all the energy he had left to set the bed back into place. The last thing he needed was to give Peter yet another reason to get pissed off. Elliot might not want to be all good and proper, but he wasn’t an idiot either.

His stomach complained again, growling, sounding angry. Elliot placed a hand on his middle, pressing down to muffle the sound. Peter’s heavy steps could be heard climbing up the stairs. Elliot’s eyes fixed on the door.

Peter opened the door, barely throwing him a glance. “Hey, handsome.” He greeted casually, unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt.

Elliot gulps, his throat suddenly felt parched dry.

“God, I almost forgot. Hold on a sec,” He said, sprinting out of the room.

Peter comes back a few minutes later with a glass of cold water. “Here you go. I bet you’re thirsty.”

Elliot stared at the glass of water, shaking his head slightly. “Peter— I’m hungry. I-”

“You don’t want it?” Peter interrupted. Elliot looked at him with wide eyes, he started to shake his head.

“I do. I do.” Elliot’s tone was frantic, desperate. He hated himself in that moment. “I’m just… I’m so hungry, Peter.”

“You can have this water,” Peter talked slowly, enunciating every word, Elliot huffed at the patronizing tone. His head was throbbing. “Or not.”

“You’re sick.” Elliot said, but still reached for the glass. 

Peter chuckled.

—- —- —- —- 

The glass of water helped with the dizziness and the throbbing headache, but the emptiness in Elliot’s stomach was present as ever. Elliot curled into a fetal position on the bed, the hunger pangs were getting more and more painful. His gut still trying to digest air, nothing. It wasn’t getting the memo that it was not getting any food.

Two days. It had been two days since he’d eaten anything. Peter came regularly to give him water. Elliot accepted reluctantly, it dulled his aching hunger for a while. Peter’s visits were brief, always rushed. Before Elliot had gathered himself enough to speak, Peter was already gone.

The smell of steak and roasted vegetables filled the entire house, creeping in and surrounding him, a cruel reminder of everything he couldn’t have. His eyes watered in frustration. His stomach tightened with each breath he took, his mouth painfully watered. 

He closed his eyes and hugged his middle. His mind can’t help but imagine the flavors, how it’d feel to have the juicy meat on his mouth, he fantasizes about the crunchy veggies. He could smell soy source too. He swallows. 

The door opens. Peter entered, carrying two plates of food. Elliot’s eyes widen and are glued to the food, he pulled himself up. His stomach growled loudly, he placed a hand on his hollow gut, as if to silence it.

Peter watched the action with a knowing smile.

“Guys like you shrink down quick, huh?” Peter said with a teasing voice, eyeing him up and down. “You look bony already.”

Elliot no reply. He knew Peter was right. He had noticed the changes on his body. The concave gut. He wasn’t sure if he looked bony but he felt weak. He felt lighter, not in a good way.

“I’m guessing that’s not for me.” Elliot said, swallowing thick as his eyes could not pry away from the food.

Peter laughs. “Oh this? Yeah, this is my lunch.” He sat on his desk, he crossed his legs as he takes a bite, moaning as he chewed. “Oh, so tender.”

Elliot’s stomach growled again, louder this time, he winced. He must look so desperate —he felt desperate. Every fiber of his body wanted to grab the plate, swallow the food, leave no crumbs behind. 

“I’ll leave this here.” Peter shrugged innocently as he pointed at the second plate, he stood up, bringing his own plate along. “For you to think about.”

“No.” Elliot’s eyes met Peter’s. This didn’t count, he wasn’t begging, he thought. He would go crazy if he left the food there, so close but so far. “Take it, please.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t ask if you wanted it or not.” He left his empty plate on his desk, took another pair of handcuffs and, before Elliot could protest, his left wrist was shackled to the other side of the bed frame. Elliot felt his stomach drop. His big mouth had him lose the little freedom he had.

Without another word, Peter exited the bedroom. Elliot slumped back against the bed, he forced his eyes to remain on the ceiling, not the food. His stomach growled again, a hunger pang twisting inside of him. In this position, he was unable to rub his aching stomach. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain, the hunger, the thought of the food warm, waiting for him.

[beelsnack]

A Shift In Perspective - An Elliot (SDV) x MC Commission for @azulcelestina

Thank you so much for commissioning me and being so patient with me!! You were a pleasure to work with.

For anyone who wants a commission, I'm still open! You can check out my prices here!

Also, just so everyone knows, I get permission from each client to share their comms on here. I send the completed fic once it is finished and only post it after being given the go ahead. It stays completely private if you want.

-----

Something about the sea air does wonders for the creative mind.

Usually Celeste did all of her painting in the farmhouse, but sometimes a change of scenery was in order. The wooden walls and floorboard were already splattered with paint, no matter how many newspapers she spread across her living room, and although she liked the artsy vibe it provided for her little cottage, she didn’t feel like scrubbing today.

Although maybe taking the forty-five minute walk to the beach with her easel and paints wasn’t the smartest idea.

Landscapes had always been a challenge for Celeste - perspective was a pain, and there was always something changing by the time she looked up from the canvas. But she had woken up motivated, so after doing her morning chores, which may or may not have included making sure every animal got a little kiss on the forehead, she packed up her art supplies, tied her wavy brown hair into the messiest bun imaginable, clipped her errant bangs out of the way with her sunflower clip and marched down to the beach.

There was a fine sheen of sweat across her forehead when her feet finally hit sand, and her arms were trembling from carrying her whole art set, but she couldn’t help but grin when she finally made it. It was still early, the sun just barely peeking up over the vast expanse of blue. Excellent.

As she approached the shoreline, Celeste bent down and undid the laces on her sneakers, slipping them off and carrying them in her unoccupied hand as she searched for the perfect spot to set up shop. The sun-warmed sand felt nice between her toes, but as she walked, she realized that loose, shifting sand may not be the ideal place to set down her easel. Maybe she should move down into the surf? But then she risked the sea water getting into her paints when she set them down.

“Oh, Celeste! What a surprise!”

The sound of a door shutting behind her made Celeste turn around. There, long golden hair tied back just as messily as hers and wearing a slightly wrinkled white t-shirt and a pair of red plaid sweatpants, was Elliot. He was smiling, but as he got closer she could see that he still looked a little bleary-eyed, and his hair was slightly damp.

“Elliot, good morning,” she waved. Well, tried to, as her shoes were still in her left hand.

“Forgive me, if I had known you would be here I would have dressed properly,” Elliot looked slightly sheepish as he approached her. The tops of his cheeks were faintly pink.

“If I had known you would be here, I would have kept my shoes on,” Celeste replied.

“No, please, don’t let me interfere with the creative process,” he stopped next to her. “I would never question an artist’s method.” 

Celeste laughed, brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “I can’t wear anything on my feet when I paint, I don’t know why. One time, I wanted to paint the cows in the field, and I stepped on at least three rocks.”

“Oh, dear,” Elliot chuckled. “Did you want to paint the ocean today?”

Celeste nodded. “I wanted a bit of a challenge, but I’m running into more problems than I thought.”

“How so?”

“The sand isn’t steady enough for my easel,” she sighed, setting her load down onto the ground and rolling her sore shoulder. “I really wanted to get the waves rolling onto the beach though.”

“Perhaps the dock, then?” Elliot tilted his head, gazing past her at the long wooden boardwalk. “Nice and sturdy. You could get a side perspective of the surf crashing onto the sand.”

Celeste hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, that would be nice. Good idea, thanks!”

“Of course,” Elliot gestured towards the dock. “I like to sit there in the morning and write a little, myself. Get the creative juices flowing, you know.”

“Why not sit with me?” Celeste bent down to pick up her easel. “Plenty of room for two, and a little company never hurt.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Elliot inclined his head.

“It’s not imposing if I’m asking,” she smiled.

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “Although, I must ask, did you intend to stand the whole time?”

Now Celeste found herself flushing. “I couldn’t carry my chair with me.”

“I have a stool you can borrow,” Elliot placed a hand on her elbow. “You go get set up, I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, thank you!” Celeste turned. “You’re a lifesaver. Or, well, a back saver, at the very least.”

Without fully intending to, Elliot’s gaze slid down her form as she mentioned her back. She really was quite lovely. Well-toned, likely from all of the hard work on the farm, and she carried herself with an air of gentle confidence. He shook himself out of his trance before it became inappropriate and cleared his throat. “No problem at all.”

By the time he returned with the stool - and brushed his hair, how could he allow himself to be seen with messy hair? - Celeste had placed her easel and had begun roughly sketching onto her canvas. The sun glinted off of her tan skin, and the water caused a rippling shine across her focused features. She was idly biting her lip as she looked up at the shoreline, and Elliot felt that familiar spark of inspiration kindle in the back of his mind.

“There you are,” he set the stool down next to her and settled himself down on the bench nearby. He had grabbed his notebook and a pen while inside, and already his hand was itching to begin writing.

“It’s nice to have someone to be creative with,” Celeste murmured, and Elliot couldn’t tell if she was talking to him or herself. Still, he smiled at her. 

“Isn’t it? Sometimes it’s just the change we need to get that new perspective.”

She looked up at him with soft eyes. “Can I read your writing when you’re finished?”

He paused for a moment, thinking about what he intended on writing about, then ducked his head back down to the notepad in his lap to avoid her seeing the redness blooming across his cheeks.. “Of course."

[manybcdthings]

"Shut up." Hunter griped, his tone dry but a hint of teasing etched into the words fired at his cousin. But, he couldn't disagree with the statement about Elliot, laughing slightly. "Yeah. Fuckin' nerd." his tone was affectionate, which for Hunter only meant slightly less cold than usual. "But hey, worked for him. None of us are curlin' up next to that each night." meaning Isla, but what he technically didn't say couldn't come back and bite him in the ass. A long sigh exhaled about the situation in Colorado, Hunter nodding. "Yeah, was a mess. We didn't even know we stepped foot on their land or whatever the fuck. Nearly got our heads clean off by weird ass swords." he laughed about Wolf, nodding. "Uhuh, he talks some of it. Probably tries usin' it on...whatever the fuck she called. Liane." he waved a hand, and thinking of the wolf helping them brought Hunter straight to his next thought. "God damn. Some of their women." an appreciative grunt followed. "Crazy but, worth looking at."

His features scrunched as Logan hurled back his own banter, and Hunter whacked his arm harshly to his cousin's arm. "I ain't stressed. Just you talking a load of shit pisses me off." he stated, as if there was a difference. And Logan still continued to talk a big game, making Hunter grin and shake his head as he huffed out a laugh. "You," he pointed, before slapping a hand to Logan's face. "Wouldn't do shit. If I smashed a glass into your face, you'd be cryin' thinking it made you uglier than you already is." he challenged in full amusement. "Ry ain't gonna do shit either, he knew he shoulda shut the fuck up. Like you should."

"did you?" logan shoots back with an arch of his brow and a grin. "i think the only book smart cross is elliot, man. the rest of us are dumber than a bag of rocks." he adds with a chuckle, flinching his arm away in amusement from hunter's whack. he's unfazed by his cousin's reaction, and falls into silence to listen attentively about colorado. he makes a small oof noise when he hears about tyr and ines, shaking his head disparagingly. "jesus. they're lucky to be alive." he comments about the two younger wolves, unable to imagine ines or tyr coping in such circumstances. a laugh follows about wolf and the older cross' fascination with the vissers. logan can never contain his laughter whenever he sees wolf dressed like a viking. "man, i kinda wish i was there just to see that for the first time. i bet he tried talking like 'em too."

he's unable to move away in time from hunter's sharp elbow connecting with his shoulder, but logan laughs as he has to roll his arm and grab it to ease the quick jolt of pain. "alright! jesus! i didn't even say anything, hunt! you're stressing yourself out all by yourself, idiot." logan's laugh is just shy of a cackle, but it fades into a light snicker about ryan. "still think he's gonna get you back, stay on guard i guess. he might get two glasses and," logan mimes with his hands, bottles coming up either side of hunter's head to meet in the middle. "that's what i'd do."

[oofouchhimbones]

me, scrolling through julias blog: *sees something tagged #zoë don’t look (which I have blocked too so julia doesn’t have to double tag spoilers for both of us)*

my garbage sense of impulse control: i know we shouldn’t look but consider,,,,, we are not a zoë,,,,,

[marvel-ous-shitposts]

hello! I have been following your cinematic universe for the past two years, and have come to the conclusion you do not deserve Tony Stark in your movies. He is my comfort character and seeing him in an environment not meant for him brings me anxiety, so I will be expecting a reply when you are ready to relinquish him to someone who will treasure him like he deserves.

[wlw-dorothea]

ok I know Betty is supposed to be from a guy’s perspective or w/ever but no one told me that so my stupid lesbian ass got to that song and almost fucking died

[elliotxcross]

danny--anderson​:-

“I never said it wasn’t a word,” He did. “I just said it isn’t real. Like how can someone make you think something did or didn’t happen? If that was real, they’d be famous on fucking T.V or something.” Danny ranted, before staring at Elliot with a furrowed brow. His head shook a bit, more of an offended movement and mocking his friend than anything else. “Uh, yeah. I know he’s not fucking real, asshole. The dude who’s Ken looks like me and you’re a fucking blind piece of shit. All of you are, for not seeing it.” he was on the verge of losing his cool but quickly settled back down again.

“I know for a fact you wouldn’t have posted that photo of you in the hat if it wasn’t for me so shut the fuck up. You should thank me for the pussy.” He had no idea how strange that phrase sounded until it was already said, and he held a faded tattooed palm up into Elliot’s face. “I fucking heard it, alright?” he almost yelled, stopping Elliot form getting there first. The mention of Emira being on there made his hand drop, but then in true Danny fashion he shrugged his shoulder. “I’m on there too.” he mumbled petulantly and a little sour. Had she blocked him and that’s why she wasn’t coming up as near her? “I got a date too, only fucking downloaded it the other day. That DuPont girl, who bashed a knee or something.” Danny was up for a challenge most times, as long as he knew he’d win, otherwise he’d call the challenge stupid. Which was exactly why he scoffed in Elliot’s face about Aiyla. “Already had her on my couch in my t-shirt so I’m winning. Plus, she’s bat shit crazy like that bitch.” he gestured to the couple. “So, if you wanna be that dude then go for it. But you won’t get far.”

•

Elliot doesn’t think Danny’s pea brain could comprehend that he was currently trying to gaslight in his definition of gaslighting. So he waves a hand at his oldest friend, as though shooing away a fly. “Or maybe they’d just wanna just be left alone so they don’t have to deal with idiots,” he snickers, rolling his eyes at Danny. “The guy who’s Ken is like on magazines, dickhead. You’re not the same,” he shakes his head solemnly, clapping Danny on the shoulder patronizingly. “But if it makes you feel better. Sure, Danny. You look just like him.” accompanied but dramatic emphasis and air quotes to mock him. 

“I should thank you for the ––” he’s cackling at how stupid Danny sounds, even as his friend cuts him off because he can make fun of him further. “You’re a fucking idiot,” Elliot shakes his head dismissively before arching a brow as Danny asserts his own dating app activity. “Oh yeah?” Snorting, he takes another swig of his drink and pushes off from the wall. “You’ve got a real winning streak with rich chicks. First you think Aiyla likes you, then whatever the hell Emira is these days, but oh no, you’ll definitely get lucky with a DuPont.” Weren’t they fucking kajillionaires? “She’s not that crazy,” Elliot defends without knowing why, before shrugging, “besides, it’s not even that serious.” Especially not since she won’t fucking text him back, “not like I’m trying to marry her or anything.” The thought is almost laughable considering the type of ring Aiyla probably expects would cost more than Elliot makes in a year. And, like he said, he’s not trying to marry her or anything. Just get her to admit she liked him, trailer trash and all.

[anneonomus]

“i could’ve been anyone, anyone” you could’ve chosen anybody else, i am not special :: “i could’ve been anyone, anyone” i could have been anything other than what you made me. hello. can anybody hear me

[angstyaches]

heyy - sorry that I haven't interacted so long! Life just hasn't been easy haha

anyways, for the halloween drabbles: for some reason I can totally see Fee overindulging in his favorite sweets. He really hadn’t meant to eat that much and now his stomach hurts. Elliot would probably make fun of him for it but I'm sure he'd still rub his boyfriend’s belly<3

I'm sorry it's not very original or creative but I just felt like giving you something to work with

Thank you so much for the request, Em, I love it!

Word Count: 3,024 (wow, oops)

CW: mention of horror movies, food/overeating mention (accidental), stomach ache from overeating. Not much else, really!

___

“You’re driving today.”

“Aw, what?” Felix groaned as he came down the stairs behind Elliott. “I already have so much to think about, Elli, I can’t –”

“You can do it.” Elliott smiled over his shoulder, holding out the car keys to hand them over to his partner. As he took them, Felix’s eyes widened as though the keys weighed a tonne. “You just need the practice.”

Pushing his lower lip out, Felix shoved the keys into the pocket of his jacket. “Fine.”

Elliott knew it was impossible for Felix to stay in a mood for long, because the two of them were on their way out to buy some decorations and food for a small, impromptu Halloween party. It was October 30th, which gave Felix a day and a half to plan everything, but Felix appeared to be in a productive mood and was treating the deadline as a challenge.

“Oh, before you boys head out!” Nancy called out, appearing and beckoning Felix towards the kitchen. “Felix, something arrived for you this morning. From Japan, it looks like.”

Felix gasped and rounded the end of the stairs to follow her through. Elliott followed, at a much more controlled pace. Nancy pointed towards a medium-sized cardboard box that had been left sitting on the kitchen table. Felix clapped his hands together before he started peeling back the tape that kept the box sealed shut.

“I didn't know that you were expecting something,” Elliott said, joining him next to the table.

“I wasn’t, but I have a feeling I know what –” Felix paused, ducking down to peer inside the box before he’d completely opened the lid. An assortment of purple and orange packaging had been neatly arranged inside, packed tightly enough that nothing seemed to have shifted around in transit.

If this had been a movie, Felix was certain that a beam of crisp sunlight could have poured right out of the box.

“Elli, it’s all of my favourite snacks from when I was in Japan.”

There were some that he hadn’t laid eyes on in years. Some of them, he hadn’t even thought about since he’d had them in Japan; the fact that Kazu had remembered which items Felix had enjoyed made him almost well up with tears. He lifted out a packet of Caramel Corn, instantly remembering the time that Kazu had opened a bag and attempted to pour its entire contents into his mouth at once.

“Adorable,” Elliott smiled. He scooped his arms around Felix’s waist and hugged him from behind. He rested his chin on Felix’s shoulder and glanced over all of the snacks. “Kazuhito sent you all of this?”

Felix was still drinking in the sight of its contents. It was all laid out so beautifully that he couldn’t imagine that Kazu was solely responsible for this care package.

“I’m guessing Yumi helped,” he said. “I should send them something, too. Maybe for Christmas?”

“Good idea.” Elliott reached around Felix with one hand, fishing out a packet of chocolate pies adorned with pictures of chestnuts. “Are you going to put all of this out tomorrow night?”

Felix looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Not for the trick-or-treaters,” Elliott clarified, putting the packet back. “I just mean for the people you’re inviting over.”

“No! No way,” Felix laughed, closing down the lid of the box. He formed a shy, tight-lipped smile. “This is going to be my private stash.”

The sudden display of protectiveness over a box of food made Elliott grin to himself over Felix’s shoulder. It was rare that Felix put himself ahead of others, especially when it came to food, and it warmed Elliott’s heart to see it happen. He tightened his hug a little, overcome by a wave of affection.

Felix’s shoulders tightened, shrinking him slightly in Elliott’s arms. “Is that mean?”

“Of course not. It’s not mean to want something just for yourself.” Elliott pressed a kiss against the top of Felix’s head, just where his mint-coloured hair was parted to form his pigtails. “You should keep it somewhere safe, though, boo.”

“Oh, gosh, you’re right.” Felix grabbed the box, turning to cast his smile up at Elliott. “I’ll find somewhere to put it. Meet you in the car in a minute.”

“Alright.”

Felix rummaged in his pocket, grabbing the car keys and pressing them into Elliott’s hand. “You get the engine started and be ready to go, darling!” he exclaimed, darting back towards the stairs. Elliott was left standing with the car keys after all.

___

“It: Chapter Two,” Felix declared as he shut the bedroom door behind himself.

Elliott made a face as he shrugged off his jacket and went to hang it in the wardrobe. “Didn’t we just watch that in the cinema last year?”

“Two years ago, actually,” Felix pointed out. “And it was great! Tell me you didn’t love the gang’s dynamic. Look me in the eye and tell me.”

Elliott did, indeed, turn to look Felix in the eye, but he didn’t say anything of the sort. “I know you loved the characters, boo, but people don’t watch horror movies for the characters. People watch horror movies for the horror. Let’s watch something that’s actually going to scare us.”

Letting out a groan, Felix took off his jacket, too. Only now that he was alone with Elliott did he realise just how exhausted he was. The morning had been spent at the shops, and decorating the living room and kitchen had taken up most of the afternoon. He was ready to just curl up next to Elliott for the rest of the evening.

“The Exorcist?” Elliott suggested, already scrolling through movie options on his phone.

“Mmm…” Felix let out a nervous hum as he slipped his jacket onto a hanger. “Isn’t that the one where the lady’s head spins all the way around?”

“I don’t know.” Elliott glared. “I haven’t seen it, but thanks for the possible spoilers.”

Felix’s belly rumbled before he could respond, the sound lasting at least five seconds before he laid his hands on it to calm it down. Now that he was paying attention, he was starving, and he couldn’t quite believe he’d made it this long.

After a moment, Elliott laughed, coming over to gently kiss Felix on the top of his head. “Do we need to sort out dinner for you before we start the movie?”

Blushing from the sudden attention, Felix nuzzled his face against Elliott’s chest, just for a moment. “I’m okay. I already have dinner plans.”

“You do?”

Felix nodded. He pulled away from Elliott’s light embrace, scurrying around to his own side of the bed and ducking down to look underneath.

“Oh. Under the bed?” Elliott grinned, reclining across the mattress. He watched as Felix sat on the floor and slid the lid of the box open, almost ceremoniously. “That was your top-secret hiding place?”

“Everything is safe and sound, isn’t it?” Felix was grinning as he sat up on the bed, taking in the sight of all of the treats he’d received that morning.

Elliott laid an affectionate hand on Felix’s knee and went back to scrolling through movie options on his phone. He only looked up again when he heard Felix ripping into a packet of… something. They hadn’t even chosen a movie yet, and he was already crunching away on his first snack.

“What?” Felix whined through the food in his mouth, unimpressed with the look on Elliott’s face. He was holding a silver wrapper, revealing a handful of long sticks covered with some pale-brown coating. “I’m hungry.”

“Of course, you are,” Elliott said drily. He had, of course, tried to convince him to take a break, but as soon as Felix started on a project, it was impossible to slow him down. “But why don’t you eat something more substantial?”

Felix groaned mid-chew. “I’ve gotten used to cooking for myself plus Shayne. It’s such a hassle to make something just for myself.”

“Really?” Elliott narrowed his eyes at that excuse. “That kid eats less than a pet rabbit would. Does it make that much of a difference?”

Felix pushed out his lower lip, reaching into the open packet and tugging out another long, thin snack with an off-yellow dusting of colour. “It’s Halloween. Stop nagging me.”

“I’m not –” Elliott scoffed and looped an arm around Felix’s shoulders. “I’m not nagging you, gorgeous. It’s just unlike you to rely on junk food over actual food.”

“It’s Halloween,” Felix said again. “I’m not Felix right now. I’m Dark Felix. And Dark Felix? Dark Felix eats sweet potato Pretzfor dinner.”

Elliott had no idea what Pretz were, but he assumed it was the name of the stick-like snacks. He watched as Felix pulled out three at once, biting the tops off all three in one go.

“Dark Felix is going to make himself sick,” Elliott said.

Felix held up a hand, mouth full. “Dark Felix can’t hear you.”

“Alright, alright…” As he shook his head, Elliott couldn’t help but watch the gentle bob of Felix’s jaw and throat as he chewed and swallowed. “Dark Felix is cute.”

That blush started to resurface across Felix’s face. He looked down at the bedsheets as he chewed. “I thought you were picking a movie,” he mumbled, clearly feeling self-conscious. And that was the last thing Elliott wanted to make him feel.

“I was. I found one,” Elliott stated, his eyes fixed on something on his phone screen. Felix sat up straighter to try and see what he was talking about, but Elliott leaned away, tilting his phone out of sight.

“What is it?” Felix groaned.

“You’ll see.”

“No, just tell me.”

With his eyebrows raised, Elliott watched the screen and waited for the movie to cast. The title popped up in the bottom-left corner before anything else happened

“The Ring?” Felix exclaimed. “The original? But… I’ve never seen that. I don’t know where the scary parts are…”

“And that’s precisely why we’re watching it.”

“But –”

“You can’t eat Japanese Halloween candy and then refuse to watch a scary Japanese movie. You’ll disrupt the theme of the evening.”

A soft gasp from Felix let Elliott know he’d won. If Elliott knew anything about his boy, it was that he could never resist a theme.

Without another peep, Felix settled down, cuddling up close to Elliott with the box of autumnal snacks propped next to his leg. Elliott found himself immediately immersed in the film, though he was pulled from that immersion several times as he focused on the sound of Felix’s teeth crunching through his selection of treats.

Minutes ticked on through the movie, and sweet wrappers ended up accumulating on Felix’s nightstand. All too suddenly, he seemed to decide that he’d had enough, and he sat forward to shove the lid of the box closed and place it down on the floor. When he settled back down again, he nudged his head into Elliott’s side, drawing his knees up slightly so that one leg overlapped Elliott’s.

The closeness wasn’t an immediate indicator that something was wrong, but Elliott couldn’t keep himself from checking anyway.

“Are you alright?”

“What?” Felix squeaked.

“Is the film too scary?” Elliott asked gently, wondering if that was the cause of this sudden clinginess. It was, Elliott had to admit, creepier than he’d anticipated. He hoped he wasn’t putting Felix through too much. He rubbed Felix’s shoulder, frowning as he noticed how tense his partner’s body was.

“No, it’s okay. I’m kind of lost, though. Who’s that guy?”

“That? That’s the ex-husband.” Elliott frowned, wondering how Felix had missed that.

“Oh. Okay.”

Another ten minutes or so ticked past, before Elliott was jostled by movement again. Felix was pressing up closer and closer, almost as though he was hoping Elliott's body would absorb his own if he got close enough.

Guilt was starting to surface in Elliott's chest. Maybe he shouldn't have forced the movie on Felix. Maybe they should have stuck with something safe, something they would both have genuinely enjoyed, instead of something that was clearly putting Felix in distress.

His heart twisted as Felix lifted his head to say his name in the most pitiful voice. “Elli…”

“It’s okay," Elliott whispered, lifting a hand to the back of Felix's head. "I’ve got you.”

“No, it’s not the movie. I’m not scared, I…” Cut off by a soft groan, Felix leaned forward, slipping just outside of Elliott’s embrace.

Elliott’s eyebrows slowly lifted as the penny dropped. He moved a finger towards his phone so that he could pause the movie, and then he turned his gaze towards his hunched partner.

Felix gulped. If Elliott had been wearing reading glasses, he reckoned he would have pushed them up his nose right then, just for the theatrics.

“Yes, Dark Felix?” Elliott asked, as though he didn’t know exactly what his partner was about to tell him.

Another moan escaped Felix’s throat as he shoved his headful of minty hair into Elliott’s lap, nudging away Elliott’s arms. Elliott sighed and dropped his phone onto the sofa cushion next to him.

“What have you done, boo?” he asked, with only the faintest hint of exasperation in his voice. He picked up a strand of Felix’s hair, clearing it from the smaller boy’s face.

“I was silly,” Felix mumbled. His eyes were screwed shut as he curled forward, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Elliott raised an eyebrow. His fingers continued to stroke bits of Felix’s hair back from his forehead. “Could you be more specific?”

“I…” As Felix whimpered around his words, it was like ice-cold water was thrown over Elliott’s desire to be smug or condescending. “I ate a lot of those snacks that Kazuhito sent me, and... now my belly hurts.”

“I see…” Frowning, Elliott looped an arm around Felix’s shoulders. He forgot, on occasion, how tiny Felix could feel in his arms, especially when he was curled in on himself like this. His energy and enthusiasm usually made up for his size. “Are you nauseous? Do we need to move you to the bathroom?”

After a miserable shake of his head, Felix tightened his arms over his stomach. “It just really hurts.”

Elliott’s chest ached a bit. “Here; stretching out will probably feel better than being hunched over like that.”

A pleading look crossed Felix’s face. Elliott raised his eyebrows, as though to say ‘trust me’ without actually saying it. With a grimace still tugging at his mouth, Felix dropped his head back against Elliott’s shoulder and extended his legs towards the foot of the bed. As soon as he got himself settled, Elliott swept a gentle hand down over Felix’s stomach.

“And so,” Elliott narrated as he held the slight swell of Felix’s belly in his palm for a moment, “the tough, rebellious Dark Felix was taken down by a belly ache.”

“Whatever, darling, you were right,” Felix groaned, pushing his belly up against Elliott’s hand for a little extra pressure. “Sweets for dinner was not a good plan.”

“As much as I adore being right, I do not adore the sight of you being in pain.” Elliott pressed harder in response to Felix’s arching, now smoothing his hand back and forth over the front of Felix’s shirt. His fingers kept coming up against the buttons that were fastened over Felix’s chest and belly, and he could tell they were going to get frustrating for both of them. “Is it alright if I open your shirt?”

Felix nodded without a word.

“Let me know if you start to feel cold.”

“I will.”

Elliott undid the top five buttons before he couldn’t reach any further, so two stayed fastened near Felix’s hips. It didn’t really matter, because Elliott now had access to the problem area. Felix crooned softly as Elliott’s hand came to rest just below his ribcage, and he carefully started to smooth his palm across his belly. It felt ever so slightly bloated to Elliott’s hand, though he wasn’t sure if he should press any harder than he already was.

He was just glad that his hands had returned to their old warmth after his vampire transformation had ended and his body had regulated itself.

“Mmph,” Felix murmured, pressing a fist to his mouth and releasing a tight burp. His belly jumped in response, making a sloshing sound beneath Elliott’s hand. Elliott could feel how much popping and gurgling was going on inside. It barely surprised him when Felix’s entire body suddenly jolted with a hiccup.

“Oh – are you alright?”

Felix gave a mumble of affirmation, shifting slightly so his cheek rested more comfortably against Elliott’s chest. He mumbled something else, slurring his words so that Elliott, for all his advanced hearing, couldn’t make it out.

“What, boo?” Elliott half-chuckled, pressing his fingers in a circular motion as he felt Felix’s stomach cramp and lurch. A low rumble replied from inside as it struggled to settle its sugary contents.

Felix muffled another burp, this time by pressing his mouth closed around it. “Said you can put the movie back on.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

Felix nodded. “It might take my mind off it. Just don’t stop rubbing.”

“Of course, of course,” Elliott promised, turning his head to find his phone. He tapped the play button on the app, his heart fluttering as Felix cuddled in tighter and arched his belly up into Elliott’s touch again. He leaned his palm harder into the smooth flesh, as he was nonverbally instructed, and continued trying to soothe Felix's angry stomach with firm strokes and circles as the movie went on.

About twenty minutes later, Elliott was spooked by a sudden revelation on-screen, the visuals making him jolt slightly. He almost bit his tongue from the way he’d been tensed up during the entire scene. Fuck. He'd been worried about Felix being jumpy through the movie; he hadn't expected to be so on edge himself.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighed, glancing down to make sure he hadn’t jostled Felix’s head too much, but also to check that Felix was doing alright after the scare. “That really got me. Are you doing okay, boo?”

All he heard in response was a soft sigh, followed by an intake of air. He noticed the rhythmic way that Felix’s belly was rising and falling under his hand, and didn’t need to get a look at his partner’s face to know that he’d fallen asleep. Part of Elliott – the stupidly prideful part, that is – was a bit relieved that Felix hadn’t been conscious to witness him flinching at the movie.

A quick press of his hand against Felix’s stomach told him there was still a lot of churning and twinging going on in there. Elliott resumed the careful circular motions that had sent Felix to sleep in the first place. He pressed a gentle kiss against his sleeping partner’s hair, eyes trained on the TV screen again, and hoped he could manage to lie still for the last part of the movie.

[waitimcomingtoo]

would it be too much to ask for another part of plank all over me? maybe this time is an autocomplete interview with both of them and there‘s rumors going around that they’re engaged or that she’s pregnant so they’re acting all mysterious for it... thank you so much ❤️ i loooove your stories!!

Plank All Over Me - Autocomplete Interview Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You and Tom do a WIRED autocomplete interview

Disclaimer: you do not have to have read the other parts to understand this, but check them out ;)

Plank All Over Me

Yoga Edition

Couples Tag

Prank Interview

Waitimcomingtoo Masterlist

“Hi, I’m Andrew Garfield.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“And I’m Emma Stone.” You blew a kiss at it.

“And this is our weird Autocomplete Interview.” Tom finished.

“It’s WIRED.” You giggled at his mistake.

“What’s wired?” Tom asked you.

“Nothing’s wired. The channel is WIRED.” You corrected. “You said “weird”.”

“My apologies.” Tom said to the camera and he rested his hand on your knee. “This is our WIRED Autocomplete Interview.”

“Dyslexic king.” You praised and Tom laughed. 

“I like how these videos gradually get more and more chaotic as we make them.” He smiled at the thought of the other stupid videos you’d done together.

“I can’t wait to be 80 and playing with puppies over at Buzzfeed.” You joked.

“You and me both, darling.” Tom leaned in and kissed you. “Should we start with mine or yours?” He asked as he picked up the boards of questions.

“I like to save the best for last, so yours first.” You quipped and Tom gave the camera a blank stare.

“Isn’t she sweet?” Tom said sarcastically. You picked up his first board and peeled off the first strip of paper.

“Who is…Tom Holland.” Tom read off the board.

“I bet my mom was the one who googled that when I told her we were dating.” You said and Tom laughed.

“My mom probably googles “who does Tom Holland think he is?” when I’m acting up.” Tom added.

“Oh my God.” You covered your mouth with your hands. “Have I ever told you when your mom and I call you when you’re acting up?”

“No, what?” Tom inquired.

“No. I can’t.” You shook your head. “It’s our secret.”

“What? You have to tell me.” Tom shook your arm like a little kid. “Please?”

“Fine.” You sighed. “We call you Bitchy Elliot.”

“WHAT?” Tom screamed and you bent over laughing. “WHAT?”

“You wanted to know!” You reminded him.

“Bitchy Elliot? That’s not even clever.” He scoffed.

“It’s clever.” You disagreed. Tom picked up the board and dramatically ripped off a strip of paper.

“Who is Tom Holland…civil war.” You read amidst your giggles.

“Like who do I play?” Tom asked the camera.

“No, silly. They’re asking if you were on the North side or the South side of the American civil war.” You replied as if it were obvious.

“Oh, well I’m from Southwest-“ Tom began.

“The south was the racist side.” You interrupted.

“North.” Tom said definitively.

“I knew you didn’t know enough about American history to answer that question.” You laughed as you peeled the next strip off.

“Who is Tom Holland…girlfriend.” Tom read off the board.

“Whoever she is, I bet she loves proper grammar.” You poked fun at the phrasing.

“Y/n almost canceled our first date because I texted her and used the wrong form of “your”.” Tom told the camera.

“I think I was being completely reasonable.” You defended.

“Were you?” Tom squinted at you.

“Yes.” You answered and brushed his hair back. “Next question.”

“Where did Tom Holland…college.” Tom asked as he peeled the strip off.

“Oh God, where did Tom Holland college?” You asked in sarcastic amazement.

“I didn’t college.” Tom answered. “And I don’t think whoever asked this question did either.”

“Where did Tom Holland…meet Y/n.” You asked as you revealed the next question.

“We met over at BBC Radio 1 when we did the Plank All Over Me Challenge.” Tom replied with a smile.

“And I haven’t been unable to get rid of him since.” You said sadly. Tom rolled his eyes and peeled off the next question.

“Shut up.” He teased. “You love me.”

“Most days.” You agreed.

“Is Tom Holland…in the MCU.” Tom read off the board.

“He is!” You said excitedly. “I actually almost left the MCU when the Sony/Disney thing was going on because I didn’t want to be in it if Tom wasn’t.”

“She was two seconds away from not renewing her contract for Venom 2, so you have me thank for it happening.” Tom boated.

“Or we have the cast and crew to thank.” You suggested.

“Or me.” Tom shrugged as he revealed the next question. “Is Tom Holland…taller than Y/n.”

“You could ask “is Tom Holland taller than…” and no matter who you fill in the blank with, the answer would be no.” You stated.

“Haha!” Tom said sarcastically. “Read the next question.”

“Anything for you, shorty.” You laced your fingers though his and kissed the back of his hand. “Is Tom Holland…engaged.” You smirked a little when you read the question. Engagement rumors had been off the charts lately and you and Tom decided to be vague.

“I don’t know, is he?” Tom looked at the camera and tilted his head.

“Like engaged to a girl or engaged in combat?” You stroked your chin.

“Well he’s definitely not engaged in combat.” Tom confirmed and wiped his brow.

“So is he engaged to a girl?” You kept up the act.

“I can’t tell. He’s very mysterious. And very handsome.” He added.

“I wouldn’t go that far but he is pretty private about his personal life. I wish I could ask him.” You leaned your chin on your hand and sighed.

“I heard he’s pretty difficult to get a hold of.” Tom said sadly.

“Yeah. Maybe someone should give him a ring, see if he’ll answer.” You looked at the camera and shrugged. Tom peeled off the next question and dropped the paper on the floor.

“Is Tom Holland…British.” He read.

“He’s Australian.” You answered confidently as you revealed the next question.

“Does Tom Holland…drive.” He read off the board.

“No. He usually winds up his ears and flies off.” You said into the camera with a straight face. “They flutter like butterfly wings and that’s how we get around.”

“I think I know the answer to “is Tom Holland engaged?” now.” Tom mumbled.

“What’s the answer?” You asked him.

“No.” He told you before breaking into laughter. You cupped his face and kissed him swiftly as an apology.

“Was that your last one?” You asked when you noticed the lack of boards.

“Oh I guess it was.” Tom looked around. “Your turn.”

“Who is Y/n L/n…mcu.” You read. “Uh I play Iron Man.”

“She plays Iron Man very well.” Tom added as he peeled off the next question. “Is Y/n L/n…pregnant. Wow, second question.”

“Do I look pregnant?” You sassed the camera.

“Is Y/n L/n…engaged.” Tom read the next one.

“Nope, just pregnant.” You nodded.

“Is Y/n L/n…married.” Tom revealed the following question.

“Married to the money.” You answered and Tom chuckled.

“Is Y/n L/n…Tom Holland’s girlfriend.” Tom smiled as he read the next one.

“Depends on who you ask.” You shrugged.

“No, always.” Tom said, a little offended.

“Depends.” You shrugged again.

“Depends on what? Who would say no?” Tom questioned you.

“Me, if a cute boy asked.” You joked. He made a face and you laughed before kissing him.

“Is Y/n L/n…engaged to Tom Holland.” Tom read the next one.

“Im engaged in this conversation with Tom Holland.” You replied.

“Why does everyone keep asking if we’re engaged?” Tom asked with fake curiosity.

“Because we are.” You deadpanned.

“Oh right.” Tom matched your seriousness before you both burst into laughter.

“They’re probably asking because of the prank interview we did with Conor and Josh.” You reminded him.

“We didn’t say we were engaged.” Tom said.

“But we talked about marriage.” You countered.

“Guys, we’re not engaged.” Tom said to the camera.

“But Tom is pregnant.” You pointed at the camera. Tom laughed before peeled off the next question.

“Did Y/n L/n…win the plank challenge.” He read.

“I don’t even remem-“ You started.

“I won.” Tom stated. “I hold the record.”

“Well there you have it.” You laughed.

“Did Y/n L/n-“ He started to read the next one.

“Ryan Reynolds.” You cut him off.

“Oh okay.” Tom nodded as he peeled the next one. “Does Y/n L/n…have a boyfriend.”

“See the above answer.” You smiled at the camera.

“This is a video. There is no above answer.” Tom sassed. “And your boyfriend is not Ryan Reynolds.” He added quietly.

“Don’t remind me.” You sighed sadly. Tom made a mock hurt face and you pouted.

“Aw.” You laughed. “I love you.” You pulled him close to you and covered his face in kisses.

“Okay. I love you too.” Tom kissed your cheek. “There’s one more. Does Y/n L/n…John Mulaney.”

“I genuinely do not know how to answer that question.” You said after a minute of silence.

“I genuinely don’t know if that is a question.” Tom added.

“I think that’s a great way to end the interview.” You laughed. “Thanks John Mulaney.”

“Thank you for watching our Autocomplete Interview.” Tom grinned. “I’m Tom Holland.”

“And I’m engaged to Tom Holland.” You finally confirmed as you held up the hand with the ring. “Goodbye!”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @loveat2am @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @delicately-important-trash @mjspxrker @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @kii-mii @maryjanee23 @spacebitch2 @vgiselle @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow

[anneonomus]

Ok but someone actually did this to me

Continuing my streak of making quizzes that are more like weird experiences than actual quizzes with a New Creation!  

Have you ever wanted to be assigned a Real, Human Man Name? Well, now you can!

[marvel-ous-shitposts]

oh I’m Big Sad today lads

[hb-writes]

500 Follower Angst Celebration

First off, thank you so so much for all the follows and support. I love interacting with you all and sharing my writing here has been an absolute pleasure. It has helped me grow immensely as a writer and I’d like to celebrate that growth by continuing to challenge myself as a writer and giving you all some long awaited angst. 

Anyone remember like 4 😅months ago when I was collecting angst requests? I was trying to plan ahead so I’d have enough time to write them up without stressing out. It didn’t work out exactly as planned as I’ve still got some work left to do before I’m ready to post, but maybe this will give me a bit of extra motivation.

There are also a fair few new friends who weren’t here when these prompts were first open, so while I wrap up the previously collected requests, I will be accepting some additional (~10) angst requests (with some newish guidelines). 

No repeat prompts - I’ve found a new angst prompt list so this shouldn’t be an issue.

No (additional) repeat characters. 

Not every request submitted will be accepted because of 1, 2, and the fact that I really have to vibe with it otherwise I’ll be staring at the prompt for another 4 months and I’d actually like to wrap this up by the end of July, if possible! I’ll respond to the ones that are not accepted and keep the others to post when the pic is posted.

Here is the current WIP list (I’ll try to keep this updated as new requests come in). 

Fifty Shades:

Christian - Just … go.

Christian - The smart people are talking, it’s time to shut up.

Elliot - If you don't hug me right now I think I might fall apart.

Peaky Blinders:

Ada - You’re a horrible liar.

Arthur - Thank you for not giving up on me.

Finn - Is that blood?

John - I should have known better.

John (x Sophie) - I won’t leave you.

Polly - I don’t want to be alone.

Polly - It was an accident, I didn’t mean to–!

Tommy - [he/she/they] waited for you, you know.

Tommy - You’ve always been stupid / naive / selfish / [insult].

Sherlock:

Sherlock - Can you shut up for once in your life?

John - I miss being in your arms.

Suits: 

Harvey - I hate you.

Harvey - Go play in traffic.

Mike - We’re not friends. We never were.

Marcus - Do I make myself clear? / You aren’t going anywhere.

Supernatural:

Dean - Don’t you dare touch me.

Sam - I just really need a hug right now.

True Blood:

Eric - I thought it would help, but I just feel empty

Godric - If I told you I hate you, what would you do?

Twilight:

Carlisle - I take it back. I didn’t mean it.

Rosalie - If I have to talk to you for a second longer, I will snap my own neck.

Rosalie - You didn’t think I cared about you, did you?

Edward - Would you hate me?

Jasper - Control your anger or you’ll have me to worry about.

White Collar:

Neal - I can’t believe I once considered you family.

Peter - No, please don’t turn off the light!

Prompt list:

(Hella extensive) Angsty Prompt List 

[anneonomus]

Thank you for tagging me!!

I’ve written 44,434 words, which is a little more than half of a novel! (0.55)

I tag @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars (if you want to) and anyone else that wants to do this!

fanfic author wordcount tag challenge!

game: divide your overall fanfic wordcount total by the average length of a novel (80,000 words) to see the equivalent of how many you’ve written.

i have written 431,204 words, so i’ve written approximately 5.4 novels!

i tag: @shadedrose01 @lilacsandlilies4 @dredfulhapiness @ephemeralstark @euphoric-melancholyy @coconutknightshade @angxlsgrxce and anyone else who wants to do it!