#i'm like hours past sunrise at this point i should go to bed i think

[the-maw-consumes]

they like holding hands

[sissylittlefeather]

I done did it again, y'all.

Suspicious Minds: Part 1

A/N: I watched the movie Argylle and was hit with some insane inspiration and I just couldn't control it. So, please enjoy the first part of this modern AU spy!Elvis x reader fic. I really wanted this to be a one-shot, but I hit 5k words at what I think is the halfway point and had to split it. I'm really excited to write part 2 for this one...

@ccab You know I love you so much. Thank you for screaming about this with me.

Warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, this is intense, gun violence, espionage, cussing, an erection, masturbation (female), kissing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, I hope that's everything

Word count: ~5.5k

You adjust your glasses and look back at the computer screen. Your mom is always on you about not staring at a screen in the dark. She's convinced you'll ruin your eyesight, but it's not going to get any better, so why worry? Instead, you focus in again and go back to the hacking you've been working on for the past twelve hours. When you get in this mode, you don't sleep. For you it's like a game. You have a mission and you won't stop until you manage to finish it. You mainly do contract work for government agencies, cracking encryptions and writing code to secure against other hackers. But this was a private contract for a company you didn't recognize. Still, the money was unbelievable, so you took the job just as seriously, put on your EDM music, and got to work.

Now, 12 hours later, you throw your hands in the air in celebration. You finally got to what you were trying to get to. Your assignment is to download what you found onto a flash drive and deliver it to a lock box. But instead, you decide to take a peek at what you've uncovered.

It's maps. But they're maps with what look like targets and information that you're pretty sure you shouldn't see. This appears to be information that is vital to national security. You've done this kind of work before, but never for a private contract. You start to wonder if you should give it to the people who have asked for it. The flash drive blinks red to indicate that all of the information is saved. You eject it and hold it in your hand. Then, you set it on your desk and head to bed. It's 3am and the sunrise will be here before you know it.

******

You wake up with a hand on your mouth and scream into his palm.

"Sh sh sh... I'm the good guy. You're okay, honey, hush." You stop screaming mostly out of shock and he takes his hand off of you slowly.

"Who the fuck-" He puts his hand back over your mouth. Your eyes meet his blue ones and he's shockingly reassuring.

"My name is Elvis. I'm here to protect you. So please stop making noise." His southern drawl is comforting, for some reason. He moves his hand off of your mouth again. You whisper.

"Protect me from what? Or whom, I guess?"

"Where is the flash drive?"

"What?" Just then you hear your front door bust open.

"Goddamnit." He stands up away from your bed and you sit up frantically. "Get dressed, but don't make any noise."

He walks into the living room and you slide out of bed to the floor and crawl over to your closet. You grab some jeans and a bra and get dressed as quickly and quietly as you can, purposely ignoring the sounds of the struggle coming from the living room. But when you hear what sounds like a silenced gunshot, you gasp and run to the doorway. Elvis turns to you, having just shot a man who lays on your carpet bleeding.

"Go back in your room!" The other guy grabs him and punches him in the face, causing him to drop the gun. They trade hits back and forth and you watch. At one point, Elvis kicks the gun and it slides over and hits your feet. The other guy gets him in a headlock and he hollers to you.

"Throw me the gun!"

"The what?" You're so in shock that you can't understand the words he's saying.

"The gun! At your feet!" You look down and see it there, but your brain has a hard time making sense of what's happening. "Just pick it up and throw it to me!"

You pick up the gun and hold it in your hand. You've never held a gun before. It's heavier than you expected.

"Honey, throw it!" You look up at Elvis and he's struggling with the guy wrapped around his neck. You toss it gently and it lands about a foot away from him. He shakes his head at you and then grunts, throwing the guy over him onto the floor. You gasp as he grabs the gun and shoots the guy in the head. As the blood spreads over your floor, you inhale sharply and start to pass out. Elvis catches you and shakes you.

"Not yet, baby. Where is the flash drive?"

"The what?"

"The flash drive! With the information you downloaded from earlier!"

"Oh! It's on my desk." You walk to it and grab it, holding it up for him to see. He snatches it away from you.

"We need to hide this somewhere they'll never expect. Go get your dildo."

"My what?!"

"Your dildo, I'm going to-"

"I do not have one of those."

"Yes, you do. It's pink."

"How do you-"

"Not important! Go get it!" You purse your lips and run to your nightstand.

"It's a vibrator, not a dildo."

"Okay, whatever. Lemme have it." You hand it to him and he opens the end, dumping the batteries on the ground. He slides the flash drive into it and then closes it again.

"Wait... will I get it back?" He walks to you and put his hand on your cheek.

"Honey, stick with me long enough and you won't need it anymore." You blush. He's unimaginably attractive, but you try to ignore what he just said. "Pack a bag. We need to go."

You grab a duffel bag and throw some clothes and toiletries in it as fast as possible. Before you zip it up, he tosses the vibrator in the top and lets you close it.

"Wait. Why should I trust you?" He stops and turns back to face you, running his hand through his black hair in exasperation.

"Honey, I just killed two guys to protect you. You really need to ask that?" You shrug your shoulders and look up at him.

"I don't know you." He grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes.

"My name is Elvis Presley. I'm an agent for the good guys. I'm here to take care of you and make sure no harm comes to you or that flash drive of information you collected. I promise you can trust me. Now, we need to go. Are you coming?"

You look into his face for half a second and then nod. You're not sure where this is going or even how you got here, but you have no choice other than to trust this man.

You run down the stairs of your apartment building with him close behind you. He puts his hand on the small of your back and practically pushes you toward his car. When you get to it, your mouth drops open. It's a 1970 Stutz Blackhawk.

"Isn't this a little conspicuous?" You ask as you slide into the passenger seat. He gets in and closes the door, starting it up.

"It's too conspicuous. No one would ever think it's mine. What kind of spy drives a car like this?"

"Are you James Bond?" He laughs as he pulls out onto the street.

"No. Bond is British." You think it's interesting that that's what he chooses to prove his difference. Like everything else about them is the same. You look out the window as buildings flash by. The sun is starting to peek over the horizon and it hits you that you've only had a couple of hours of sleep.

"Where are we going?" You ask sleepily, yawning.

"Somewhere safe. But we won't be there for a while. You can go to sleep." You shake your head and try to stay alert.

"No. I'm okay." But you're not. Not at all.

"Honey, this is going to be a long road. You should rest while you can. I won't let anything happen to you." He reaches out and pats your knee softly. You look down at his hand. It's an unexpectedly kind gesture. The exhaustion sets in and you decide to trust that you're safe with him, for now at least. You lean your head against the window and close your eyes, sleep setting in before you have time to think of anything else.

******

You wake up and stretch. That was the strangest dream. It feels like you're on a couch though. You don't remember it, but you must've fallen asleep in the living room after finishing your work.

"You're awake."

You sit up suddenly. It wasn't a dream. He's real. You look around the room and try to figure out where you are, but your surroundings are completely unfamiliar.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe. Are you hungry?" The smell of bacon makes your stomach growl.

"Yes."

"I'm not much of a cook, but I made some peanut butter and banana sandwiches, if you want one." You frown.

"Why do I smell bacon?" A wide smile spreads across his face and a boyish charm shines through that you didn't expect from a hot shot agent.

"C'mere." You walk to the table and he sets a plate in front of you. On it is a sandwich with peanut butter, bananas, and bacon. You wrinkle your nose. "Just try it before you make that face."

You cautiously take a bite. It's better than you expected. Much better. You look up at him surprised and he holds his hands out.

"See! It's good!"

"It really is." He sits down next to you and you both eat your sandwiches. After a few more bites, a thought comes to you. "How did I get in here?"

"I carried you." He says it matter-of-factly like it's something he does all the time.

"Oh. What time is it?" You look around the room for a clock and realize for the first time that you don't have your phone. You must've left it in your apartment.

"It's a little after 2pm. You slept for a while."

The conversation continues and you make small talk. Once you finish eating, you work together to clean up the kitchen and then settle on the couch. It's very small, so you have to sit pretty close together. He turns on the TV and you spend the bulk of the afternoon there. For dinner, he orders a pizza and you sit together and eat awkwardly again. The evening passes in front of the TV and before you know it, it's time for bed. He stands up and walks from room to room.

"I'll be damned." He shakes his head frustratedly.

"What?"

"There's only one goddamn bed in this house. I'll have to sleep on the couch." You both look over at the tiny couch. It's essentially a love seat, so there's no way he will fit on there comfortably.

"Or I could?"

"No, you need to be in the bed behind a door, in case someone comes in during the night." You swallow deeply. That prospect is terrifying.

"O-okay, then. Goodnight..." He nods and you take your bag into the room with the bed. Once you have your pajamas on, you settle into the bed and the reality of your situation hits you. It's like the adrenaline from the day wears off and it becomes clear to you just how scary things are right now. The tears gather in your eyes and then start to slide down your face. Will your life ever go back to normal? What happens if these guys catch up to you? Before you know it, you're crying pretty hard, holding yourself and trying to breathe.

Elvis sits on the couch in the living room and tries not to hear you crying. He's been assigned to protect plenty of women, but there's something about you that makes him a little crazy. He shouldn't even think about what he's considering right now. Still, he considers it as the sounds of you crying come from the bedroom. It's torture for him to know how scared and alone you must be in there. He lays back on the little couch and tries to get comfortable.

"Goddamnit."

You're in the bed with tears on your cheeks when you hear the door open. You sit up quickly and see Elvis in the doorway.

"You alright?"

"No. Why the fuck would I be alright?! My life is literally in shambles. And I'm stuck here with..."

"With me?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I just mean... I'm scared. And I have no one." He sits down next to you on the bed. He almost whispers.

"You have me." You look up at him and he reaches out and wipes the tears off your cheek with his thumb. You're not sure why he's being so sweet to you, but it's exactly what you need right now.

"Will you... will you stay with me?" He clears his throat and pulls his hand back.

"Oh... you know..."

"Never mind. It's okay." You look down at your hands in your lap and try to ignore the lump in your throat.

"Yes. I'll stay in here with you. It's probably better that I stay close to protect you anyway. And there won't be any sleeping on that couch. The bed is the better option." You look up at him and nod.

Yes, he's sleeping with you because the couch is too small. Not because he can't stop wondering what it would feel like to wrap his arms around you. You lay down and he lays down next to you without touching you. You reach over and turn the lamp off.

"Well, goodnight." He looks over at you in the dark.

"Goodnight, Elvis."

You both lay there silently trying to fall asleep. It takes a while, but eventually you drift off.

******

In the morning, you wake up with your back pressed against him and his arm around you. You don't think anything of it really until you feel him. He has a massive erection and it's currently pushing up against you. You start to giggle uncontrollably and your movement wakes him up.

"What's going on? Why are you laughing?"

"Y-you..." You get out in between giggles. "I can feel you..."

"Fucking hell." He rolls away from you quickly, but it's even more obvious when he's on his back. "Goddamnit. I'm sorry."

He sits up on the edge of the bed facing away from you.

"I'm sorry. I just... it's morning... God..." You're laughing so hard that you can hardly breathe. He stands up and walks quickly to the door, muttering as he goes. "I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

He leaves you in the room laughing and hoping that he doesn't sleep on the couch.

The day passes slowly and awkwardly with the two of you eating sandwiches and watching TV again. Around noon, you decide to take a shower.

"I'm not sure that's smart."

"Why not?"

"I can't protect you if I can't see you." You roll your eyes.

"I've been fine this whole time. I think I'll be okay for a twenty minute shower." He thinks for a minute.

"Leave the door cracked."

"What? No!" He sighs, exasperated.

"I won't look. I'll just be able to hear you and get in fast if anything happens. Otherwise, no shower."

"Okay, fine."

You leave the door cracked and get into the shower, looking in the mirror to make sure he isn't watching. He's nowhere to be found, so you relax and let the hot water wash over you. It feels so good running down your skin, cutting hot pathways on your shoulders and thighs. Suddenly, a thought wriggles its way into your brain and won't go away. You imagine him in the shower with you, pressed up against your back. What you felt this morning is hard to ignore and you wonder what he looks like without his clothes on. You think about his hands running over your body and before you know it, it's not the shower making you wet. You peek in the mirror again to make sure Elvis is still not looking. When you're satisfied he's not there, your hand slides down the front of your abdomen until your fingers find your clit. You begin to make circles and think about his mouth. He has a beautiful mouth and the thought of it pressed to you as his tongue makes circles on you just about drives you wild. You slide a finger into yourself and pump it in and out as you continue to rub over and around your sensitive bud. Then, you imagine him on top of you, slamming his cock into you and without thinking, you moan.

"Elvis..." You say it quietly, but it's loud enough for him to hear it with the door cracked. He stands just outside and looks in the mirror to make sure you're okay. He can see the outline of your body through the foggy glass shower door. That's when he realizes what you're doing and swallows hard. When you cum, hard, on your own hand and say his name again, he almost loses it.

He cannot be having these thoughts about you. Sure, he's had sex with girls on missions before, it's practically his trademark, but something about this feels different. He doesn't want to fuck you. He wants to make love to you. And that thought terrifies him. He peels himself away from the door and goes to sit back on the couch. His erection is back, but there's not much he can do about it right now, so he tries to think of anything else to make it go away. He's dying to go into the other bathroom and do exactly what you just did, but he can't leave you alone. Instead, he tucks himself up under his belt quickly when he hears the water turn off.

"FUCK." He hits the couch next to him and then sits with his head in his hands. This cannot be happening.

"Are you okay?" He looks up at you quickly, standing there with your hair wet.

"Mhmmm. Yep, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You think to yourself that he looks like he's about to cry.

"Well I am. Let's just... watch TV, okay?"

"Okay..." You sit down on the couch next to him and spend the rest of the afternoon watching TV. What you don't know is that Elvis is in misery being so close to you without touching you. And what he doesn't know is that you want him to touch you more than anything in the world.

******

Finally, evening comes and you start to get hungry.

"What's for dinner?"

"Well. I'm kind of a one-trick pony in the kitchen. I don't think you want another sandwich." He seems to have relaxed after whatever happened earlier.

"I can cook."

"Or we can just go get something."

"No, I'd like to cook for you. As a thank you for protecting me." He tries not to give himself away by how he looks at you, but the tension between you is palpable. "Can we go to the store? Is that allowed?"

"Yes, that should be fine. If they knew where we were we'd know it by now."

You get back into the Blackhawk and make your way to the grocery store. You're in a small town away from where you live, so there's only one store. Elvis stays close to you as you wander the aisles for what you need to make dinner. You also grab some essentials. He's not sure how long you'll have to be at the house, so you get food to keep you sustained for at least a few days. Once you've gotten everything you need and checked out, you make your way back to the house and get to work in the kitchen.

He watches as you move around gracefully and longs to put his arms around you. You notice him staring and decide he needs a task.

"Get over here and chop something."

"Yes ma'am." He salutes you jokingly and you set him up with some peppers.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"My grandmother. She was an amazing cook. I spent summers with her when I was a kid, so she was able to teach me."

"That's nice."

"What was your family like? Or can't you tell me?"

"I probably shouldn't." You nod. It makes sense that he can't divulge any personal secrets. But he just can't seem to tell you no. "Fuck it. I was very close to my mother growing up. There were a lot of times when it was just me, her, and the shirts on our backs. My father worked a lot. And then she died when I was 23. I had just joined the army."

He gets very quiet and looks down at the vegetables he's chopping intentionally. You walk over and put your hand on his arm gently. The contact makes his heart jump.

"I'm sorry for your loss." He looks down into your face, his eyes flicking between yours and then down to your mouth momentarily. It takes everything in him not to lean down and kiss you.

"Thank you. Anyway I joined the military and was recruited by... who I work for now... and the rest is history."

Finally, the food is ready and you sit down to eat together again. He's impressed by your culinary skills and spends the next few minutes gushing about how good dinner is. The conversation continues and you talk about everything and nothing. Somehow, you make your way around to talking about music.

"Here's a fun question: what do you like better, singing or dancing?" He asks you as the meal comes to a conclusion.

"I'm not much of a singer, but I also don't dance, so I'm not sure how to answer that question." You respond and he laughs.

"You don't dance?"

"Well, I never really have before. Haven't had much opportunity. I was too big of a nerd to go to high school dances and in college I pretty much kept to myself."

"Then, it's not that you don't dance, you just haven't yet. We need to fix that." You're surprised by his enthusiasm, but he's eager for an excuse to touch you. He turns on the radio and finds a station with a good song.

"Really, it's okay. I don't really want to dance."

"C'mon, it's not hard." He puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in close to him. You both breathe deeply and he takes your hand in his. He moves you around the room effortlessly and your embarrassment melts away. The feeling of his arm around you is enough to distract you from anything. He dips you and spins you and before you know it you're both laughing. Eventually the song ends and he holds you close to him and looks down into your face. The next song is a slow one, so he begins to sway gently.

"See, dancing's not so bad."

"No, it's fun with you." You look up at him and his eyes flick down to your lips. He wants to kiss you. You can tell. And you want to let him.

He slowly leans forward, hovering above your mouth with your noses touching. It seems like he's trying to decide something. Eventually, he moves the slightest bit forward and presses his soft lips to yours. The kiss is a sweet one, and he kisses you again like this several times. The fourth time he kisses you, though, he parts your lips with his and dips his tongue into your mouth. By this point you've stopped dancing and both of your arms are around his neck, with both of his around your waist. The heat between you picks up as your mouths move together in a rhythm.

Suddenly, he stops and pulls away from you. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs.

"Y/n, I can't. I can't do this."

"Oh... okay..."

"I'm sorry. You should go to bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Okay. I'm sorry if I-"

"You didn't do anything wrong. It's me." You nod your head and walk away from him to the bedroom. After closing the door, you change into your sleeping t-shirt and crawl under the covers. The bed seems lonely without him.

In the living room, he paces back and forth, sitting down periodically. He's going through everything in his mind and trying to convince himself that there's nothing there for you. That he can reasonably fuck you and then move on like he always has. But these thoughts are invaded by other ones: the sound of your laugh, the softness of your smile, the grace with which you moved around the kitchen, and your voice saying his name in the shower. He's never been so frustrated by a woman. He starts to get a little angry. What is it about you anyway? Who are you to come into his life and interrupt it like this? He has a job to do. You're the one being all distracting and unprofessional. He needs to set you straight. You need to know that this is completely inappropriate.

You're almost asleep when the door opens dramatically. You sit up on the side of the bed and Elvis stomps over to you and sits next to you.

"You know why I can't do this, right?" He asks aggressively. You're not sure where this anger is coming from.

"Yeah, it's your job-"

"It is my job! My job is to protect you, not... this... whatever this is..." He gestures frantically to the space between you.

"Elvis, I'm not sure why you're yelling at me." He yells even louder.

"Because! You're making me feel things I don't want to feel!" He looks at you desperately, chest heaving. Your heart is pounding.

"I'm-"

His lips crash into yours with a feverish need. Everything he's just said goes out the window as his hands run over your body and he kisses down your neck. You whimper and he groans with the intense passion. He pulls your t-shirt up over your head and off, tossing it to the side. One hand immediately goes to your breast while his mouth explores the opposite nipple. Your hands are in his hair as he works, your head thrown back in pleasure. The sensation of his lips on your breast is exquisite and you moan as he lightly pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your fingers go to the buttons on his shirt and you fumble with them for a while before he just rips it open and lets you push it backwards off of his shoulders.

He lays you down on the bed surprisingly gently and kisses down your stomach. The only thing separating you from him is your white cotton panties. He sits up on his knees, erection stretching the fabric of his pants, and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. His eyes search yours for permission and you nod slightly as a smile spreads across his face. He pulls your panties down your legs and off and then presses his lips to your ankle. Pushing your legs open, he drags his finger up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Can I make you feel good, baby?" He asks as he makes circles on you.

"God, yes, Elvis, please." You whine as he settles between your legs. He starts by pushing his tongue into you and then licking up either side of your sensitive bud. You need him to touch the right spot with his tongue so badly it almost hurts. Your legs shake with desire and he hovers about an inch away from you. You feel his breath on you and it feels like you might die with how close he is. Then, he very softly flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue. "Fuck! Elvis, please!"

Your back arches and your hips buck as you practically beg him. He continues to flick your clit with his tongue, though, adding a little more pressure each time. With each flick of his tongue, the blood rushes to your core and you feel your climax building. Finally, when you're about to scream and your orgasm is just seconds away, he dives in fully, licking your pussy with the entirety of his tongue.

"OH FUCK, ELVIS!" Your orgasm hits you like a runaway train, setting off fireworks all over your body as the pulsating waves of pleasure crash into you. He licks you through your release until you come back down to earth. Then, he sits up and wipes his face with his hand.

"I want- no, I need to make love to you. Please let me make love to you." You sit up and unbutton his pants, pushing them down to free his cock. He grunts as you take him in your hand and pump him, gently moving his foreskin back and forth.

"What are you waiting for?" You whisper. He moans deep in his throat and leans forward on top of you, kicking his pants the rest of the way off. Holding himself in one hand, he teases your clit with his tip and then lines up with your entrance. He begins to push into you slowly, giving your body a chance to adjust to his size. You feel every inch of his cock as he enters you and it fills you up perfectly. Once he's pushed into you fully, he slides almost all the way out and with a slow, deep roll of his hips fills you again. He continues to thrust into you, slow and deep, over and over. His rhythm is steady, his pace dramatic and soulful. You begin to moan softly each time his hips meet yours and he grunts in reply. There's something overwhelmingly sexy about how he's taking his time, filling you, pulling back, and then slowly filling you again. Sweat drips down his face, gathers on his chest, and wets his hair on his brow, matching your own. The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. He reaches down to hold one of your hips, thrusting somehow even deeper than he already was. With every pump, his dick rubs against your g-spot and the slow pace has you dancing on the edge of another orgasm. Just when you think the lovemaking can't get any sweeter, he leans forward and captures your lips in a deep kiss. Then he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. All the while, he's still sliding in and out of you, pushing deeper with each thrust.

"Goddamnit, baby. You feel so good." He kisses you again and his pace speeds up the slightest bit. Every time your hips meet, it feels like the next thrust will send you over the edge.

Without pulling out, he rolls over on his side and brings you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He goes back to thrusting, increasing his speed, but not changing the depth of his strokes. Your eyes meet and his blue ones search yours for something. You're not sure what he's looking for, but you hope he finds it.

"Y/n, I- FUCK." He's interrupted when the coil of his orgasm snaps and he cums hard inside you, closing his eyes and shuddering against you. His release pushes you over the edge and you tumble into oblivion with him, pulsing and fluttering around him. He presses his forehead to yours again as he pumps weakly a few more times and then pulls out of you. Kissing your lips, he rolls over on his back and pulls you onto his chest.

"What were you going to say?"

"Hmm?"

"Right before you came. You were saying something."

"Oh, it was nothing." He thinks to himself that it absolutely was not nothing, but he was probably just caught up in the moment. It doesn't need saying now.

You nod and snuggle into him, hoping he doesn't try to go sleep on the couch. He doesn't, thankfully. He stays right there in the bed with you. He knows it's stupid and inappropriate, but he no longer cares. Maybe you'll be stuck together in the safe house for a long, long time. This is his last thought before you both drift off to sleep.

******

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the feeling of Elvis wrapped around you, both of you still naked. You're just about to revel in the closeness and daydream about what you'll do stuck in the safe house today, but Elvis sits straight up in bed.

"What-?"

"Shh, honey, hush." He says it quietly and you start to get scared. "Someone's in the house."

He jumps out of the bed and grabs his pants, pulling them on without buttoning them, and gets his gun from the nightstand. You don't even remember him putting it there.

"Get dressed, quickly and quietly." You nod and slide out of the bed, gathering your clothing and slipping it on silently. He positions you so that you can't be seen from the door and then opens it, gun in hand.

"Ah, Agent Presley. You're awake."

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things

[iviarellereads]

The Eye of the World, Chapter 21 - Listen to the Wind

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Staff icon) In which we have our first entire chapter from a different point of view!

Nynaeve awakens with the sunrise, confused for a moment where she is. Then she gets annoyed at herself for falling asleep, worries at losing the younger ones, gets angry at herself for even thinking they might not have survived.(1) She rides down river, keeping an eye out for tracks, in case anyone crossed the river who she can track down. Eventually she smells woodsmoke, and sneaks toward it.

She finds Lan dismounting from his horse, Moiraine sitting beside a fire, boiling a kettle. Nynaeve doesn't reveal herself, just listens. Lan tells Moiraine that the Myrddraal are gone, and the Trollocs, but he's worried that there must have been a thousand of them. How did they get there, so many at once? If there are that many Trollocs, they could overwhelm the Borderlands at any time.

Moiraine says coolly that the whole world will be overrun in five years if they don't find the boys. She knows where one is, and two were downriver before the connection "faded away as I found it". Then she makes a cryptic comment about "if you watch the wolf too hard, a mouse will bite you on the ankle" and tells Nynaeve she can come out from behind her tree if she likes.

Lan almost looks embarrassed that he didn't notice Nynaeve there. Nyn approaches Mo, but Lan stops her with an arm like iron. Mo offers tea, Nyn refuses and asks what "dirty Aes Sedai schemes" Mo's gotten the Emond's Fielders into.

Mo nonchalantly informs Nyn that she's got little room to talk, since she can wield the One Power herself, sometimes. Nyn says Mo might as well accuse her of being a Trolloc. Mo points out that Nyn sensed the potential in Egg, too, and she (Mo) could tell as soon as Nyn approached, if she hadn't been distracted by building the fire.

Even Lan seems surprised at this, and watches Nyn speculatively. Nyn says she won't listen to any more of this, but Mo points out how surprised Emond's Field was that their Wisdom hadn't predicted the late spring accurately, how she could heal injuries that should have disabled people so that there wasn't even a twinge or a limp. Mo even guesses how it started.

“Perhaps as much as eight or ten years ago—the age varies, but always comes young—there was something you wanted more than anything else in the world, something you needed. And you got it. A branch suddenly falling where you could pull yourself out of a pond instead of drowning. A friend, or a pet, getting well when everyone thought they would die. “You felt nothing special at the time, but a week or ten days later you had your first reaction to touching the True Source. Perhaps fever and chills that came on suddenly and put you to bed, then disappeared after only a few hours. None of the reactions, and they vary, lasts more than a few hours. Headaches and numbness and exhilaration all mixed together, and you taking foolish chances or acting giddy.(2) A spell of dizziness, when you tripped and stumbled whenever you tried to move, when you could not say a sentence without your tongue mangling half the words. There are others. Do you remember?”

Mo goes on to explain how Nyn formed a connection with those she'd healed, she could probably when they were nearby, and it's how she found them at the inn. Nyn admits that she healed Egg, admits that all of it happened much as Mo laid out. Mo says that Nyn is lucky, she developed control over the Power, or else it would have killed her by now, as it will kill Egg if she doesn't go to Tar Valon. Nyn says if she learned, so can Egg! Mo says that three of every four who can touch the Source as they can will die, eventually, if they don't get help and training.

Nyn remembers another apprentice Wisdom who died young, and eventually gives in, asking Mo not to tell anyone what she can do. Mo tells Lan they'll be leaving, and she fears Nyn won't be accompanying them. Nyn, in true reverse-psychology fashion, says she will too be going with them.

“Oh, yes, I will be going with you. You cannot keep me from it.” “No one will try to keep you from it,” Lan said as he rejoined them. He emptied the tea kettle over the fire and stirred the ashes with a stick. “A part of the Pattern?” he said to Moiraine. “Perhaps so,” she replied thoughtfully. “I should have spoken to Min again.”(3) “You see, Nynaeve, you are welcome to come.” There was a hesitation in the way Lan said her name, a hint of an unspoken “Sedai” after it. Nynaeve bristled, taking it for mockery, and bristled, too, at the way they spoke of things in front of her—things she knew nothing about—without the courtesy of an explanation, but she would not give them the satisfaction of asking

Nyn asks how Mo knows where the boys went. Mo tells her about the token coins, they were bespelled so that as long as their holders are alive and in possession of the coins, she can find them.(4) Nyn asks about Egg, and Mo says she has no clue where she went, but the Trollocs wouldn't bother her because she's not their target.

Nyn is torn between trying to find Egg or going with Mo and Lan.(5) A Wisdom is supposed to look after all her people, not have to choose between one or the other. When Lan comes back from retrieving her horse, his stony calm breaks, and his eyes widen at seeing her crying. She turns her back to him and wipes the tears furiously.(6)

Mo asks one last time if Nyn will go with them. Nyn mounts her horse, not really answering, but not going the other way.

Lan and Moiraine were already in their saddles, turning their horses south. She followed, stiff-backed, refusing to let herself look back; instead she kept her eyes on Moiraine. The Aes Sedai was so confident in her power and her plans, she thought, but if they did not find Egwene and the boys, all of them, alive and unharmed, not all of her power would protect her. Not all her Power. I can use it, woman! You told me so yourself. I can use it against you!

=====

(1) Poor Nynaeve. The first couple of times I read this book I was about her age and related to her hard. Now I'm only a few years older than she is but gosh do I just want to tell her she really is too young to be taking responsibility for all that herself, and she's so adversarial and jumps to conclusions so quickly that she never has a chance to give someone the benefit of the doubt. She creates so many walls between herself and other people, even between herself and the Power, since she doesn't have a conscious grasp of it. Anything that has the potential to hurt her, she pushes away, even if it would also bring her great joy and benefit. She cares for her village but she has to do so many things that go against her nature just to be taken seriously. She's learned to bristle at anyone questioning her or undermining her worldview. More… (See 5) (2) Side note: those are some funny symptoms for this channeling sickness. Do they stand out to you? Have we seen anybody with symptoms fitting this description? Or am I throwing attention at a red herring? (3) Remember what Min said? Nyn is part of it, too. (4) So, the coins were quite important after all. You may or may not have noticed, but Ewin said his was a silver penny, while Mat and Rand both got coins that Rand evaluated at quite a high value, sounding like much more than a penny, and neither showed them to Ewin before tucking them away. (5) She literally collapses here when she's faced with evidence she can't deny, that she can use the One Power, even if she's never known what it was. And instantly she seizes on the opportunity to use it actively. You told me I can use it, so then I can use it against you. She's also entirely too ready to feel smug. Particularly at Lan's failures. This is partly Nynaeve's character, and partly, I think, some of the attempt at matriarchal society conditioning peeking through. (6) One thing I didn't go into too much in my summary is how Lan is stone-faced throughout, but Nynaeve is attuning to his microexpressions. She even says at one point, surely his face hadn't actually changed, but she can almost feel his surprise. And he uses her given name only, not her full name, not Mistress al'Meara. Just Nynaeve. How familiar of him. How daring. She doesn't even notice… or does she? Nynaeve may be one of the least reliable POVs we've seen yet, because she hides so much from herself as well as others.

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 7: In Which Everyone's Ugly Children Can Die For All I care

I had planned, this morning, to get out and about into Seville nice and early to undertake a self-built walking/cultural tour of the City; my body, however, had other ideas. Not satisfied with simply being fooled, like a chicken, into thinking that my alarm had gone off at the wrong time, due to the efficacy of the rooms blackout blinds, when I awoke, properly, an hour later than I'd intended, my body screamed at me with every movement I made. My muscles hurt, my bones ached and I was all grumpy with no one to point it at, the fault for my agony lying squarely at my own feet. Who knew dragging a backpack half my own weight around for two hours in the rain and getting savaged by a mule would take it out of me so much? Not me. It was a genuine surprise.

I quickly - perhaps too quickly - dismounted the bunk bed on which I had been sleeping - a novelty in a private room, but crucially, not a nice one - wrenching all my joints out of place in the process and set about planning my day. 

Google didn't offer much in the way of interesting ideas. The museum of illusion looked quite cool, though at 17 euros a ticket with an average time spent there of under one hour, I decided instead to just look at photos other people had taken while there online which, in many ways, I found to be the same, if not better, than actually going. 

Beyond the museum of illusion, which has to be the name of a Sega megadrive game, I couldn't find much to do. At least nothing that would be doable with under 15,000 steps, which was about 16,000 steps than my body could take, today.

I decided then, begrudgingly, to switch today's plans with that of the next day, tough it out and go to the aquarium. God I'm brave.

The Seville aquarium was one of the few things I had planned to do before embarking on this trip. I had spotted it on the map during the planning stages of the journey and, when I did, made an audible “ooh” noise. It was supposed to be quite a big, cool one, according to reviews and while the Vasco Da Gama had been largely disappointing

Apart form this fuckin' guy.

I had high hopes for this lad which was advertised, promisingly, as having “a decent variety of fish”. 

I set out into town - taking the metro this time; I'm not a fucking idiot, which was unpleasantly crowded, though with a journey time of just over ten minutes, it was difficult to mind that much.

What I *did* mind, however, was knowing that instead of the hideous trek I had undertaken the previous day, I could have just hopped on the tube for twelve minutes and spent the rest of the time having a nice hot chocolate in a cafe, rather than been pushed off the road by an irritable ass. Oh well. You live and learn, I suppose. C’est la vie. Sunrise, sunset. I'm still absolutely fucking furious.

On the other end of the journey, I realized that to make it to the aquarium, I would still need to walk through a very big, nice park. Which I did. See above re: me being brave.

The park was reet nice and I had a reet nice time there, looking at all the nice greenery and that

Oooh...

Having a good old gawk at what maps has told me was called “the old big tree”

They should call this old large tree!...No, big is better.

Having a quick wander around the, to be honest, a little oversubscribed plaza de españa 

...Admittedly there aren't a lot of people in this photo, but there were loads there.

And enjoying a quick half-lunch on a nearby bench before ambling, finally, to the aquarium. By the time I arrived at it's gates, it was past 1pm.

“Oh, no!” I mumbled to myself, remembering the exquisite five hours I had spent at the Genoa aquarium last year and one very shit half hour in its cafeteria, forcing down a dry bread roll, thindly dappled with only the very scantest idea of cured meat, “only four and a bit hours til it closes! I hope I've left myself enough time to enjoy the experience!”

I checked in, using my pre-purchased ticket, thereby skipping the substantial queue that had formed at the reception and stepped boldly into the aquarium itself. And an impenetrable wall of people. It was fucking rammed.

I hadn't expected the aquarium to be so popular an attraction; particularly not so on a Wednesday afternoon, but popular it was, to the point of becoming absolutely maddening. 

A veritable sea of slack jawed, witless, dead eyed dullards stood before me, taking photos of the deep sea fish with their cameras’ flash enabled, banging on the glass to get the fishes attentions and occasionally just shining their phone torch directly into the terrified faces and ill-equipped eyes of the startled creatures. People were banging on the side of the ray tank to get them to swim over through sheer curiosity then stroking, squeezing and in one case - and this is genuinely true - trying to feed one a piece of popcorn. It was insanely stressful and upsetting to watch.

Yes, the air was thick with cunts, alright and this quickly presented another problem: I couldn't fucking see anything. So absolutely swarmed with twats was the place that I would genuinely have to wait in a queue-like system for up to five minutes but typically two or three, before I could get anywhere near close enough to a tank to even get a glimpse of its contents. Then, when I did, I had to face the tuts of disgruntled parents, furious that my shoulder was appearing in the selfie they wanted to take of their child standing next to a carp or whatever stupid shit they were doing.

That was the worst thing, by far. The selfies. Parents were, as I say, literally queuing to get to the front of a tank, not to marvel at the wonder of deep-sea nature, up close, but instead to plonk their ugly, disinterested child in front of the enclosure then get a picture of it with mum, then a picture of it with dad, then a picture of them alone, before moving into the next exhibit to do literally exactly the same thing.

Fuck. Offfff.

It was a resoundingly depressing and infuriating experience, all round. Sighing, I sped up my pace and skipped a few tanks in order to get slightly ahead of the thickest throng of people (both in terms of their numbers and intellect) and managed to get maybe one percent more relaxed now they were behind me. There were, however, another group a bit ahead and the aforementioned group hot on my heels, which meant that I had to sort of stutter my way through the place, not wanting to go so fast as to run into the group ahead, but not wanting to languish too long in case the one behind caught up. It was effing nightmarish. Also, and I swear this is true, one toddler literally shit their pants mid queue and their parents finished queuing, and took two selfies before going to change their child. What the *fuck* is that?

Still, I did get a lovely picture of a jellyfish.

Eventually, I had seen, through the screens of other people's cameraphones predominantly, everything there was to see in the basement of the building. I ascended the staircase back to the first floor, steeling myself for more cuntery to come and…found myself in the gift shop. That was it. That was the whole thing. I had been there for 55 minutes, paid 15 euros for the experience and had 0 fun. I was beyond relieved to leave - 0/10; may God have mercy on all of their worthless souls. I was even too angry to steal a magnet. 

I left them, fuming and disappointed, both in the aquarium and society at large and sat in the park to eat the second half of lunch. I also met a nice cat while doing that, which made things lots better.

Well done that gato

I farted away to a nearby supermarket, not.willing to undertake the bullshit walk to the Lidl “nearby” my flat, again and…it was closed. That was odd; it was only half past two… 

I tried two more. All closed. I checked Google. Apparently it was something called “constitution day” which meant everything would be shut. Apart from the aquarium, I suppose, although I contest it should be shut, condemned and demolished immediately.

Quietly resigning myself to it likely being sandwiches for dinner last night and breakfast, lunch and dinner today, I sighed and moved on, with little else to do and my body really needing a bit of rest, I decided to return home for the day, making a hail Mary stop at a nearby tesco-metro equivalent on the off chance it would be open. By some miracle, it was, and I even managed to find a nice little self contained Caesar salad wrap box, fill of all nice green vegetable things which, if I'm totally honest, I think my guts have been crying out for for some days.

I then left and returned home, once more, totally ruined, to have a reasonably nice dinner, a bigger nap than I intended followed by a smaller nibble than I intended and my third sleep of the day. This one semi-permanent. As in I slept for the night. I wasn't in a coma. 

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 4a

*Warning Adult Content*

Phone Number - Part 1

- Knox -

Knox didn't get any sleep last night because Everett didn't get any sleep last night.

The boy tossed and turned until a few hours before sunrise.

At one point, he screamed himself awake because of a nightmare.

More are bound to follow, given what all he experienced in the past twenty-four hours.

Knox couldn't help but pity his temporary roommate, enough to buy Everett a new charger so he can finally use that damn phone of his.

"I don't care who you reach out to, just don't reveal your location."

Knox tosses the yellow Dollar Store bag at Everett after entering his bedroom.

"Has Josie stopped by? I ran into her while I was on my out and she told me she had something for you."

Everett nods from the bed, quick to unbox the phone charger.

"She delivered a few toiletries shortly after you left. My skin was desperate for some lotion and it felt great to brush the stank out of my mouth. I'll never take toothbrushes for granted again."

"Yeah, because your breath smelled like..."

"Fuck off, you big panda. I didn't ask for your snarky commentary."

Knox's head falls backward as he laughs.

He shouldn't find Everett to be this amusing but he does.

Too much, if he's being honest.

Perhaps the way Everett carries himself is to blame.

His looks make him appear sweet and innocent but when set off, his mouth runs exactly like a filthy sailor's.

He's cute but deadly.

The absolute worst kind to fall for.

"Was that supposed to hurt my feelings or something?"

Knox removes his beat-up leather jacket and kicks off his shoes before joining Everett on the bed, taking a seat at the foot of it.

"It doesn't, by the way. Pandas are one of the most beloved animals on the planet. Everyone is a fan of pandas."

"Yeah, well, I'm not everyone," Everett mutters.

"In fact, I think they're extremely overrated."

Knox laughs again.

"Fuckin' liar. You couldn't even look me in the eyes when you said that."

"Don't you have someplace else to be?" Everett replies sharply, meeting Knox's playful gaze.

"No," Knox says. "Getting under your skin is far more entertaining.

"God, you're so annoying."

Everett plugs the charger into the wall outlet beside the nightstand and hooks his phone up to it,  struggling to keep from smiling.

"I prefer this version of you over the one who almost strangled me to death. Are you always this hot and cold with the people you kidnap?"

Knox purposefully avoids answering the question because his targets are usually dead by this point.

"Why panda?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes. I'm very curious to hear why you matched me to one of the most adorable animals in the..."

"Okay, enough." Everett rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching and wanting badly to rise. "You're dressed in black and white, and you're about the size of a pregnant one..."

They both chuckle at that.

"It was honestly the first thing to pop into my head as I watched you get dressed this morning."

"I thought you were still asleep then."

"I'm pretty good at faking it when I want to."

Knox bit back the inappropriate comment he wanted to make and instead allowed a comfortable silence to settle between them.

He responded to a few texts while Everett checked in with his people.

Knox appreciated the lie Everett told his parents in claiming he had spent the night with a boyfriend.

If only Shaun were still alive, Everett definitely would've been with him.

The what-ifs leave Knox feeling unsettled, so he quickly brushes them off.

The life that Shaun lived would've eventually caught up with them both.

It was only a matter of time before Everett witnessed firsthand just how cruel life was for a biker.

Going forward, Knox secretly hopes the boy will think twice about dating men that are no good for him.

Not that he should fucking care.

"My friends knew about Shaun and I being together."

Everett frowns while looking at old texts sent from Shaun, most of them flirty one-liners.

"They've sent me a thousand questions asking if I knew more about what happened. I assume they watched the news from last night."

"What did you tell them?" Knox asks.

Everett sighs, shaking his head as he deletes his conversation with Shaun.

"I hate lying to them."

"I know it's hard, but it's for their own good."

Knox drags a hand through his hair and exhales a heavy breath.

Since when did he become so... nice?

"You seem like a decent kid, Everett. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess..."

A loud knock at the door makes Everett jump from his spot on the bed, effectively ending the conversation.

Knox doesn't move an inch.

"Who the fuck is it?" Knox growls, his demeanor doing a complete 180.

"The owner of the house," Gavin replies. "Come out here for a minute. We need to talk about the kid."

Everett reaches for Knox without thinking twice, one hand gripping Knox's left arm with enough force to leave behind an imprint.

The boy's light brown eyes are glowing bright with fear and his bottom lip is back to trembling.

Knox instinctively leans in closer, almost as if he's no longer in control of his body.

"Please don't let him hurt me," Everett whispers with a panicked voice.

"I won't say a word to anybody about anything, I swear. You have to believe..."

"I do. I believe you, Everett. You're safe with me, alright? I've got you."

"You promise?"

" I promise."

Everett nods and drops his hand, allowing Knox to stand and crack open the door.

Gavin doesn't peer inside being nosy, merely laughs at how ridiculous his newly appointed Enforcer is acting.

Must be something in the water.

"What's up?" Knox asks.

"I'll tell you as soon as you get your ass out here," Gavin says. "Or would you prefer the kid hears everything?"

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

Are y'all ready for a tough conversation? Because I think many of us need to hear this.

Are you overworking, glorifying burnout and productivity because you actually enjoy it or because you feel something. Like you have to prove something. Ignore something. Distract yourself. Be better than everyone else. Stand out. Make other proud. Which is it? Do you actually get joy out of getting up at 5am and working all day long, living a picturesque version of what you believe life should be for pretty photos, bragging rights, and/or trying to prove something? Are you scheduling your days full of things to do to avoid dealing with something? To keep your mind so busy you can't even bother to worry about anything else? Are you spending extra hours a week to create an aesthetic catered to people around you and not yourself? Are you actually happy with all of this? All your actions? All your choices?

I'm not saying that you are doing any of this. You might actually truly enjoy it, and if so, that's amazing!!! I myself am someone who loves to get up early and be busy. I love excelling. I love working hard. But my motivations for doing so are now for me. Before, they were for other people. I went to college because it was expected of me. I did everything to please someone else. I loved doing it, but didn't know why it also made me so drained, hate-filled, and extremely destructive. Now, I get up at 5 am and I don't start studying or working out like I used to. I go down to the water, watch the sunrise, and take my ferret on a walk. I don't drink coffee with little sugar and creamer. Now I drink it so sweet because that's how I like it and fuck my ex for making me think I'm somehow lesser for that. Now I study because I love learning. I read biographies and autobiographies and true stories to learn about things I enjoy, not to be able to fit the mold my dad created for me. I stopped with my bujo because it stopped becoming about me and being productive and creative and became about the notes. I deleted my old studyblr because it wasn't about me and my studies anymore, it was about the notes. I work hard at work because I love my job, not for praise.

Here's the uncomfortable part. I used to drown myself in work and school and restrictions because of trauma, self doubt, depression, etc. I was miserable and so caught up in this image of perfection and trying to reach some goal that I didn't even know what it was. It was nothing but a negative cycle of hate and abuse on myself for merely being human and experiencing human things. But here I am, 7:47am on a holiday, in bed in my pj's with unwashed hair and sunshine and birdsongs filling my room and I don't hate myself or feel bad for still being in bed. I'm not going to punish myself later. I'm not going to drag it through my day. I understand that I worked really hard this whole week and today's a holiday and I'm allowed to rest as my body wants. I'm allowed to eat as my body wants. I'm allowed to relax and just exist with no end goal in mind. I'm 15lbs heavier than I used to be. I have clothes on my floor and a cluttered desk and a p-trap with dirt in it from a stupid idea. I don't have a calender full of alarms and reminders. I don't have an agenda or a bujo or anything like that. What I do have now, is self respect, self love, and self reliance. And through that, I have better relationships with those around me who support me and respect that I am my own person. I own up to my mistakes and I don't beat myself up over them anymore. I failed a test? There's more. I failed the class? I can retake it. I woke up late? My body needed that extra rest. I didn't finish my sets? That's ok!

Trauma, depression, anxiety, ocd, adhd, addiction, etc can all cause you to push yourself to the point past breaking. It can destroy your life physically and mentally. And it all did for me. And it was a tough realization and a lot of hard choices. But I'm so thankful for the woman who spent those nights crying and comforting herself. I'm so thankful for the woman who stayed sober those nights she wanted nothing more than to disappear. I'm so thankful for that woman who was pushed too far and snapped and was alone. I'm so thankful for that woman who almost smashed every mirror in the house because she wanted to grow instead of being caught up on how she was gaining weight (I just hung towels over them or kept the lights off instead). I'm so thankful for the woman who got up and walked out of rooms instead of throwing a fist. I'm so thankful for the woman who went through so much to get me here today. And I'm beyond thankful for those who were there with me through the years it took. Who let me fall and let me pick myself back up and who answered the phone at 3am and who helped me so much through all of this. And I'm so thankful for my sister for having the guts to tell me that my studies, my need to constantly be busy, was nothing more to me than just another addiction to numb myself instead of work on myself.

So this year, I ask you to question your motives, and if you're ready and able and have a good support system (I'm always here for you even if I don't know you), to work on yourself. I ask you to be selfish. I ask you to finally do things for you because they make you HAPPY. This year, I ask you to LET yourself be happy, because love, you deserve it more than you'll ever know.

[sociallyawkwardfoxwriter]

Mighty Nein prompt: The Nein take a much deserved vacation on Rumblecusp, no traveler con, no fake gods, just actually going and doing the time share thing they discussed. Just beach days, Beau's bar, All those things. And maybe the Captain and first mate have decided that they should both propose to their partners, on the beach at sunset and be all romantic and shit. (I'm getting caught up on CR and just passed Traveler Con)

Let them have a vacation. It's about time.

Enjoy!

"Coming for some liquid courage?"

"No," Despite what he said, he eagerly accepted the strong drink Beau passed him and downed the entire need in one go. "why would I need that? We're just here on a relaxing vacation. There's nothing stressful here that would require liquid courage."

"And I was worried that I would be the one to give us away."

"Shut up. I'm not going to give us away. The others already went down to the beach."

"Time for one more drink?"

"I shouldn't."

"It helps the nerves."

For a moment, he considered taking Beau up on her offer, but the thought of drunkenly stumbling his way through the proposal sounded far worse than the nerves coloring it. "If you need one, go nuts. I'm good with the one."

"Last chance. I'm not taking any of this down there with it. I made that mistake last time, not again!"

"I'm positive I don't want any."

"Suit yourself." He watched in silence as Beau poured herself a double and threw it back without any trouble. "Better. Do you have it? You didn't forget it in your other pants or something?"

"No, did you?"

"No, I've been ready since this morning. Unlike some people, I have to get up early to get the bar ready."

"You absolutely do not have to do that. No one wants to get drunk that early. You're just incapable of sleeping in for more than an hour past the sunrise. Some of us have no problem staying in bed longer than necessary."

"Guess you're the lucky one. I do have to go back to punching people in the face at the end of this vacation. I have important work to do."

His hip check managed to catch Beau just enough to cause a light stumble in her step that she retaliated to with a punch to his shoulder. "Ouch. I thought we agreed no using weapons?"

"Do you expect me to be able to stop them? They're always on."

"Okay, I get the point. You're very powerful. The rest of us are losing our edge. I'd feel bad about it, except it means I get to enjoy not getting into fights all the time."

"You're missing out. Nothing like that adrenaline rush."

"I don't think I am. Sailing, helping Caleb with the kids, making dinner for him. It's nice."

"Have you been talking to Yasha? I'm pretty sure I've heard all of that from her before."

"Tearing down enormous organization from the inside isn't for everyone." His fingers reached into his pocket to hold the ring box that had been sitting in the drawer of his workbench for months now. "I'm more than happy to sit back and give him whatever support he needs or convince him to take a break when things are getting stressful."

"Thanks for doing that. I know we get... in our own heads with all of it or whatever. I'm glad he has someone to pull him out of it."

"Hopefully, I'll get to do it for the rest of our lives."

"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, there's no need to worry about that. He'll say yes."

"I'll find out for certain tonight."

"You and me both. Ready for it?"

"As I'll ever be."

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part seven)

Part one. Masterlist!

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

(Next week)

A week had passed by in a rather slow pace. Yuri's recovery seemed to never end when it had just been a few days. But those days were spent sleeping and eating, using his phone and sleeping some more. Mostly he had no one to talk to since everyone were busy with their own lives. Especially (Y/n) who had to keep her inner performer alive at all times. Her coach came with the idea of hosting a smaller gig where (Y/n) would perform about two or three numbers for the people of Japan. It was planned out as a small nightclub gig at first but the numbers of interested in Japan rose over the charts and well... (Y/n) said that she didn't want to let anyone down. Though her coach was apparently hesitant into taking more than a hundred people. 'Three numbers are too little for a concert.' They said but the people of Japan insisted on paying for the price a concert ticket anyway.

(Y/n) had told him this two days after his fever started. He remembered it made him scoff at how she decided the ticket would only cost a quarter of what a normal concert ticket would then. He had told her it was a ridiculous way of thinking.

He barely saw her after the first day of his fever. The way Yuri had taken a hold of her hand and fallen asleep... She waited until he woke up. Well, not exactly waited. She fell asleep at the edge of his bed.

And since that, the two of you barely talked during the days. They barely even met before she went to bed because she spent every waking hour to practice her numbers with her backup dancers. She still made you breakfast when she head the time though.

Yuri's glad it would soon be over and he could go back to normal. Everyone had been attending to him like he was some child and he felt like a huge burden. He had told Victor that he wished (Y/n) especially wouldn't just dismiss his attempts at doing things on his own just because he couldn't get out of bed with single effort. 'Right, she told me about that! You fell on your face right after while trying, didn't you?' He had replied.

So... yeah... Yuri wanted things to return to normal real fast. Yakov had promised him that he would get to start his session with (Y/n) as soon as the music for the program was set. And that was what Victor had been helping him with a couple times. It was hard to find something he wanted to use. Everything felt overused and boring. Just another performance. Yuri didn't want it to pass as that. He wanted to stand out and earn his gold medal for real just as last year. Now was also really the year of improvement so the music had to be well thought through. He was certainly going to take advantage of having a coach for emotional performances with him this season as well. Meaning, his free skate program was already set to be something hurtful and strong. Not love, he already did that. Something far more serious. He wanted the audience to cry after his performance. Everyone should be bawling. Yakov, piglet, Victor and even (Y/n).

Most important of all, no one would be expecting him to do a program with such deep meaning. Because he was one to avoid it in the past.

His short program should be something upbeat and flashy. He wanted the choreography so intense that he'd be coughing up blood at the end of the performance, if that was possible. So the music had to make the pulse of the audience rise when hearing it. Meaning, the music would be in the rock genre. And he already had just the song for it.

This performance would show off his skills and flexibility as well as the importance of his stamina since the entire program would be non-stop step sequences and jumps throughout almost the entire music. Since he intended to be in better shape than ever before before the competition started, he felt no point in holding back on anything. If he played it safe, then what was the point?

"Ah! Good morning Yuri! I come bearing gifts!" Victor busted the door open with his foot and stumbled inside the room, balancing a tray in his hand. The tray was set down in front of him and Victor sat down at the end of Yuri's bed.

"Where's (Y/n)?" Yuri was truly surprised to see Victor being the one to bring you the breakfast today. It had been her until now. And he hadn't even seen as much as her face today since she left so early.

"Ouch. I'm replaced already? I can't go on knowing I'm not your favorite anymore, you know." Victor put a dramatic hand to his forehead and fell backwards onto Yuri's legs. The tray with the breakfast threatened to tumble and Yuri made an effort to stabilize it. It was bacon and eggs with apple slices. A part of him felt a little sad that the slices weren't in the shape of stars...

"You were never my favorite, old man. And you didn't answer my question." Yuri picked up the fork and pointed it towards the man slopped unto the bed end. He ignored the sad pout he received and took a bite of the apple cut into pieces. Each slice were to large and it didn't even taste the same even though they were of the same apples like yesterday. The eggs were decent and the bacon slightly undercooked. Victor's efforts to cook for the household during the day were appreciated of course. But there was no wonder why (Y/n) stood for the head of the dinner at days when her schedule wasn't as crazy.

"She's practicing like mad. Called her dancers to say that she would be starting a few hours ahead of time because she got an energy boost. She wants the show to be at her best efforts possible."

"I haven't even seen her today. How can she practice like a maniac when she's probably already learned her numbers flawlessly?"

Victor was watching Yuri with a funny look. Probably wondering where all those questions came from.

"I think the show is a way for her to relax."

Say what? Going out of bed before sunrise and coming back from practice just mere hours before midnight could never be considered relaxation. Yuri would never be able to pull that off. That was an insane view of the word relaxing, definitely.

"The steam and demands from her competition in We are voice are currently lifted off her shoulders like heavy weights, you know. This is probably just fun to her. She doesn't have to compete with anyone. I think it gives her a sense of relief."

Yuri stopped eating and thought a little extra on what Victor said.

Yes. She was always stressed in every video where a fan or a nosy reporter came out of nowhere and started recording. Yuri had seen those videos. Especially the one where the random person happened to record the exact moment her mind broke down and she had a breakdown in front of a large crowd. Now there was no denying that Yuri sees (Y/n) as the most weirdest and ridiculous being alive. The way she is so determined to get her way and how much she cares for strangers she's never met. Yuri kind of still consider the two of them to be strangers, even after two weeks being with each other on a daily basis. Her eyes are also too intense for anyone to be up close with to her face and as if that wasn't enough, she's also a morning person and that's already a big warning sign to stay away from a person.

But even though he had had this mental conversation with him many times. Even though he agreed that he disliked her; he couldn't help but being captivated by her performances.

It felt so weird seeing her cry like that just minutes before her performance and then watching her going on stage having the time of her life. There was no doubt she loved her fans and performing on stage but that was one of those moments where Yuri really got to see the mind behind the happy smile. It was the first time he had seen her crying or feeling a negative emotion. It's still the first but he got a taste of her irritated self not so long ago.

It made Yuri think about her performance that day. It was a remarkable song filled with sheerness and excitement and her eyes were still wet with tears as she got up on stage.

"Remember (Y/n) performing 'Animal' during the acappella collaboration sequence?"

"Yes! One of my favorites. She was so happy on stage that day." While it had been true that she found happiness, it's not to ignore how broken she felt right before. 'Animal' by Neon Trees (A/N: listen to the Glee version of the song for the best acapella dynamic!) Was one of (Y/n)'s best performances, according to Yuri. He had watched it on repeat just this morning. There's really nothing special to the song in itself. It was the way she delivered every word and tune with such bravery after her internal battle like that. Her emotional response has always been on point but this particular song was something completely real and touching with her tears glistening in the corner of her eyes the entire performance. The tears of sadness had been replaced with joy and she had genuinely just been having a great time with the acapella group at her side, cheering and jumping around on stage with stars in her eyes.

'Oh, oh

I want some more

Oh, oh

What are you waiting for?

Say goodbye to my heart tonight'

The chorus were always his favorite part. Maybe it was the interpretation of the love-hate relationship the words of the lyrics intended. (Y/n) was belting out 'what are you waiting for' with such passion even though it was hardly a difficult song to perform.

'Here we are again

I feel the chemicals kickin' in

It's gettin' heavier and

I wanna run and hide

I wanna run and hide'

The short verse got him every time. The way her eyes watered at the end and then were immediately blown away by the chorus once again. The way she let go of her sadness and let her happy thoughts consume her. No, she let the song consume her and gave the song a completely different touch never done before.

Yuri had lost count of the time he'd watched it and he knew the choreography and song in and out by now. It was mainly intended for the purpose of studying her expression and getting some kind of inspiration for his music choice. He wanted his theme of his music choice for the free skate program to be 'to let go'. If there's any theme harder than love, then it's letting go of the thing you love. And not just what you love. Letting go to be able to love as well. Whether it's love for yourself or another person. There are countless interpretations and that's what (Y/n) had performed that day, with no intention whatever of doing it in such a way.

"I have... I have chosen the music for my program. At the inspiration of t-that performance."

Now don't get Yuri wrong. He'd never admit it to anyone that (Y/n) had been an inspiration to his free skate. He would probably had figured out the idea anyway, it would just had taken a little longer. And her performance was his own way to interpret it so he'd been the one to come up with the decision anyway. So in a way, she didn't have anything to do with it. And his choice of song would be far more intense and heartbreaking than anything Neon Trees could produce. And so Yuri told Victor about his music choices even though he had no clue why he put that kind of trust into the man.

"Those are some really clever choices when combined with your own vision. I'm almost a little jealous. Maybe I should just hire (Y/n) as my coach myself. It seems like it did wonders for you already!" The man laughed and patted Yuri on the shoulder.

"Nonsense. She hasn't began coaching me yet. She had no part in this." Yuri pushed away the empty tray to make room for sitting up and crossing his legs.

"Oh, but it seems like you learned a lot by ogling her all day long though." The smirk Yuri received made his teeth grit and his ears flush.

"I-i wasn't ogling her!"

"Then what were you doing exactly? I heard 'Animal' playing for a good 30 minutes from the wall connected to the room beside yours." Victor laughed at the startled freeze of The Russian Punk.

Okay fine. Maybe he went overboard with the video. But a new problem had seemed to appear now as he admitted defeat.

Yuri now had a witness that would have to be taken care of somehow. He leaned forwards and gripped the collar of Victor's shirt in a tight fist. The glare of daggers shot forwards onto the smiling man.

"Tell anyone about it and you're gonna have to reconstruct that pretty nose of yours. That's a promise,not a threat."

"Trust me! You won't hear a peep!"

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 18

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 7.4k  (I’m making up for my almost three weeks of absence!)

Warnings: Angst, cussing and nudity. Rated T.

A/N: Please excuse me the fact that I’m mixing past and present tense in this chapter. I tried to write it all in past tense as usual, but it didn’t feel right aesthetically in some parts, so I just let it be XD

Taglist @utterlyinevitable​​ @binny1985​​ @shanzay44​​ @choicesficwriterscreations​​ @starrystarrytrouble​​ @lahellacute​​ @lucy-268​​  @cinnamonspongecake​​ @romewritingshop​​ @bratzlahela​​ @mrs-raleighcarrera​​​   @mercury84choices​​  @curiousconch​​

______

Chapter 18: Into My Arms.

 So keep your candles burning

And make her journey bright and pure

That she will keep returning

Always and evermore

Into my arms, O Lord

 Bryce had never been a man of strong faiths, but he wasn't a cynical either.

He was just practical. He respected people who needed something to believe in, but preferred to put his beliefs in science because that's what was closer to infallibility compared to religion. After all, that's why he decided to become a surgeon, he believed in the power of medicine to heal people against all adversities.

However, he knew medicine wasn't enough. At least not when he's not the one holding the scalpel and giving everything he has to save a life, but holding the hand of the person he loves the most, and her life is hanging by a thread.

Doctors have medicine. They do everything they can with their knowledge and skills to save lives. But patients? All they have in the waiting is hope. And all they can do is pray.

After spending hours awake, not missing a single second of her breath, of her arterial pressure, of her oxygen levels, all the indicators that could assure him that she was alive, the passing of time inevitably starts kitting uncertainty upon him. Would it be enough? Will they do it on time? Will they do it at all? Because he knows the possibilities and limits of medicine. He knows that sometimes there won't be an answer, there won't be a cure, there won't be anything that could be done.  

Sometimes, medicine is not enough and death is inevitable.

Bryce had never been a man of strong faiths, but he wasn't a cynical because maybe, just maybe, he was just waiting for the time he would need something to believe in. When his optimism and science combined wouldn't be enough. When the waiting would be so long, excruciating, and painful that he would need something to hold on to. A refuge.

Just like now.

Just like now when there's nothing left to do but pray.

To God, Allah, Buddha, Yahweh, Jehovah, Kāne.

"Please, please, let them find the antidote. Please, let them find it on time so Eleanor, Rafael, and Danny can survive. Please. Please."

There's no logic in asking the unseen something only medicine can give. But it doesn't hurt. It actually feels like a warm blanket that envelops in the middle of a tempest. At some point, it will soak with rain and it will no longer provide warmth, but it will do for a while. And that's all that he needs. Temporary comfort. Temporary faith to go through the night.

"Please protect her. Don't take her away. Don't take her away from me. Please. Please."

And then he begs like God is doing all this. As if they don't make the antidote, is because God moved his thread to not make it happen.

As if he needs to have someone to blame in case things go wrong.

Because blaming God is universal.

"They'll make it, they'll make it. They'll find the cure. She will live. They will live. Everything will be alright."

And then he just holds onto hope. He desperately forces himself to stay positive. To not think in a scenario where they don't make the antidote or where it's too late. And he tries to remain in that state, not daring to move his thoughts even a single inch, fearing that the slight movement could send him to the abyss. So he just locks himself in that state of mind. Hoping. Pleading.

Sunrise was dimly percolating through the blinds when a shriek startled him. Bryce turned his gaze, previously fixated in the monitor, and found Eleanor tossing on the bed, shuddering.

"Eleanor, what is it? I'm here, baby."—He asked, standing up from the chair and leaning over her, studying her reactions. Her breath was ragging and all of a sudden, she sat up, clutching her stomach desperately.

"It… Owww! It hurts so much…"

"What hurts?"

"My stomach and… my chest… My… My lungs and… heart…"

Her voice went mute and then hunched on the bed, her cries growing desperate.

"It's okay babe, take a deep breath."—He pated her on the back in a soothing way, hoping that the slow movement could ease her pain somehow.—"In half an hour someone from the team should come to administer the next dose of your treatment. How much it hurts? Do you think you can hold on?"

After a few moments, Eleanor nodded, thriving to breathe as deep and slowly as she could.

"Seven."

"Okay, you can do this, beautiful."

Bryce forced himself to take a deep breath too. Even if had passed several hours since Eleanor fell in that state, he could never get used to the idea of her suffering and not being able to do anything to stop her pain.

"Do you want some water?"

"Please."

Trying to ignore the lump in his throat, Bryce walked to the other side of the bed, poured a glass of water, and offered it to her, sitting behind her to give her support.

Eleanor received the glass and brought it to her mouth her hand quivering. Bryce hurried to place his own hand over hers to steady the glass and then watched her intently, waiting for her reaction.

A moment later, her eyes widened.

Fuck.

"What is it? It… it feels hot for you?"

She nodded, slowly and solemnly.

His whole body froze for a second.

"I'm doomed."

It was an affirmation, not even a complaint.

"Babe, you are not doomed. You're still standing, there's still time, and I'm sure the team will find the antidote soon."

"Stop this crap, Bryce. Let's be realistic here, it will be less painful for you in the … Owwww. Shit!"—Her face flinched and a hysteric sob escaped her mouth.—"Fuckkk, it hurts so much now…"

"How much?"

"A nine."

"I'll page Ramsey."

Bryce took Eleanor's pager and wrote frantically. He didn't know how he steadied his hands because his whole body was trembling, and his mind was feeling unbearably dizzy.

"COME NOW."

It had taken him just a few seconds paging Ethan, but when Bryce looked at Eleanor, her face was glistening with sweat and the only reason she was still staying upright on the bed, was because he was holding her from behind.

"I'm sorry Bryce… I'm… not strong enough."

"Baby don't say that. You're incredibly strong and brave."

Even through the latex, Bryce could feel how cold her body was, and when he placed a hand over her forehead, she felt even colder.

Desperate, he took her in his arms and placed her on his lap, cradling her protectively.

As she felt his warmth enveloping her, Eleanor curled up over him, grasping the fabric of his suit instinctively, and pressed her face to his chest.

He had never seen her this fragile and weak.

"I'm so tired…"

Her eyelids seemed heavy, making her incapable of keeping them open, but she was resisting, trying to see him through the window of his suit.  

He looked into her chocolate eyes, tired and pleading, while he was tracing soothing circles on her temple.

"It will pass, babe, I promise. Ethan will put you to sleep, but please, please stay with me. Stay with me."

How much he wanted to place a kiss on her forehead and soothe her pain with his caresses, as so many times he had done before. When she was feeling sad, angry, frustrated, sick. He had always found a way to make her feel better.

But now…

The lump in his throat was so painful that he couldn't hold the tears anymore.

He felt so useless.

So hopeless.

He couldn't do anything right. He couldn't stop her pain, he couldn't find the antidote. And now he couldn't even hold his emotions and stay strong for her, while she was trying so hard to keep her eyes open and stay with him.  

He was an utter fiasco.

And then… her body felt heavier in his arms and her grip on him loosed.

Bryce panicked.

"Babe?"—His voice was barely a whisper. He looked at the monitor, her vitals were dropping. —"Babe? Please…"

He didn't know if he was pleading to her or to the unknown.

"I'm… ssso…tired…"

His whole body relaxed when he heard her voice. She was still with him. She just couldn't with her body anymore.  

He embraced her more tightly, pressing her head to his chest, and stroked her hair softly.

"Keep fighting, babe, I got you. You're doing great, gorgeous."

He didn't know how much time passed, but suddenly the sound of the decontamination tent door woke him up from his pleading state. When he looked up, Ethan was standing in the entry, frozen.

It was a shocking view, undoubtedly. Her body motionless in Bryce's arms, while he was fighting the sobs with pleading words.

"What happened?"

Baz asked, slipping behind Ethan, with an evident tremor in his voice.  

Bryce cleared his throat and breathed deeply.

"She… Uh… experienced the hot-cold reversal a while ago and her pain has escalated. Started with a seven and now is a nine."

Only then Ethan could react, taking a step toward the bed, studying the bundle of bones curled up over Bryce's lap.

"Her vitals had dropped but are still better than Rafael's at the moment he fell into a coma."— June commented, inspecting the numbers in the monitor.—"Any other symptoms?"

"Cold sweat and loss of strength."

"Did she sleep?"

"Yes, about five hours. She woke up minutes before I paged."

June nodded, adding the new information to the chart.

"Eleanor, are you still with us?"—Baz asked, holding a needle with a crystalline liquid inside.

Eleanor hummed.                          

"Good. Excellent. I'm gonna administer a higher dose than last time, okay? This will put you to sleep and hopefully when you wake up the pain will have decreased."

Baz injected the dose into the IV. After a few minutes, when Bryce felt she had fallen into a deep slumber, he stood up and placed her on the bed, covering her with the duvet. Then, turned to Ethan, who was witnessing the whole process silently.

"Any progress with the antidote?"

"Yes. There's a chemical that we are synthesizing that seems to be our best option so far. We are expecting to have it ready in a couple of hours."

Bryce nodded, hope resurfacing again after such dark and tortuous hours.

After a few more exchanges, the Team left, leaving him alone again, praying with all his strength that the chemical is the answer.

Minutes feel like hours. And hours an eternity. His hand had gotten atrophied by holding hers, but letting her go isn't an option, scared that she might go if he leaves her even for a second.

He's drugged by fear.

*

"We did it!"

Bryce isn't sure if he's imagining it, if he's daydreaming about the moment when their friends and the team will find the cure, or if it's true. If it's really happening.

But when he sees Ethan entering the room again, his eyes glistening with pride and hope, smiling, he knows is not his imagination.  

"We made an antidote."

It feels surreal. His whole body feels lighter and suddenly a burst of laughter attacked him.

Happiness, relief. Hope.

He knew there was a chance the antidote couldn't work. But he chose to believe it would.

And then he can't stop thinking about all the things they talked through the night. All their plans, all the places they would go, all the things they would do.  All the things he would say to her, but he kept inside for fear.

All the love he had to give to her.

There was so much to explore and learn with her. Life was giving both of them a second chance. Not only to Eleanor but to him too.

And then all he can do is thank. Thank to whoever accompanied him through the night. To whoever held him and filled him with hope.

To whoever put a blanket over him, to keep him warm until he reached a shelter. A safe place.

Bryce was now full of hope and optimism.  With the optimism he knows so well and that comes naturally to him. He's sure everything will be alright now.

And he thanks his friends and the doctors who helped. He knows words will never be enough to thank them for what they've done, but he decides to do it on the brink of his emotions, when they are more genuine, and retributions and gratefulness is all that people need after such a long night giving everything of themselves to find the antidote. To save the lives of their friends and colleagues.

*

The waiting in the next hours was nothing like the last one. They're full of hope.

Benjamin joined him in the room once he gave his parents the news. After a while he forced him, with the same persuasion and stubbornness that Eleanor would do, to take a break.

"Bryce, you should have some rest."

"I can't leave her side."

"I get it, I really do, but at least you should take some air, eat something, have a coffee. You haven't left the room in like ten hours. I'm sure you wanna be in your best conditions when Eleanor wakes up and not pass out of exhaustion after five minutes."

Bryce stared at Benjamin, the determination set in his eyes was the same he had found so many times in Eleanor's. Where would that come from? From their mother or their father? Hopefully, he was expecting to find it out that night.

An hour later, after catching up with his friends in the cafeteria and calling Keiki to give her the news, he returned to the room with renewed energy and a lot more confident than before.

It only takes him a minute to start talking with Benjamin as if they were old friends.

Hours flied by.

"Man, I'm not saying that Kobe doesn't have his merits, but let's be honest: without Michael Jordan, there is no Kobe."—Bryce stated, both sitting in chairs at the end of the bed.

"But we are not discussing who came first or their legacies, we are discussing objective facts. For example, Kobe beats Michael in career poin-"

"Shut up you two, we all know Lebron James is better than Michael and Kobe."

Bryce and Benjamin's eyes widened in shock and turned to the bed, where Eleanor was awake and smiling.

"Andrew! You're awake!"—Benjamin jumped up toward her side and hugged her affectionately. –"I'm so happy to see you okay, sis."

"And I'm glad to see you again, bebé."

Bryce sat on the other side of the bed and caressed her cheek.

"Hey, babe."

"Hey."—She smirked—"I should've asked you if you were team Kobe or team Jordan before agreeing to be your girlfriend but… I think it's too late to give you back now."

Bryce chuckled, giving Benjamin an amusing glance.

"I'm sure we'll be able to keep the debate on civil terms, right, Benji?

"Absolutely."

"How are you, beautiful?"

"I'm feeling… surprisingly good. Did they change the treatment?"

"No, must be the antidote that's working. And probably you're still high for the morphine."

"Did you say antidote?"

Eleanor was a mix of confusion and amazement.

"Yeah. The team created an antidote. They injected it like… about four hours ago."

"And why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because Baz put you to sleep, you don't remember?"

"No? What happened?"

Bryce looked at Benjamin who shook his head subtly.

"You were in deep pain, so Baz put a higher dose of morphine. It would have been like… humanly impossible to wake you up considering the dose."

Eleanor frowned.

"I don't remember any of it, honestly. How deep are we talking about?"

"You reached a nine, but the Team came quickly so you didn't suffer too much."

"A nine? Shit. That's pretty bad. Maybe that's why I don't remember a thing. "

"And you had a fever too."

She nodded.

"And how they did it? The antidote, I mean."

"In simple terms, they created a compound that binds to the maitotoxin and prevents it from attaching to the plasma membranes. So far has worked very well and your levels of the toxin had decreased significantly since the administration."

"And they beat the stupid Government. How embarrassing—She giggled., and how has worked with the boys?"

"They are still in a coma, but their levels had dropped too. Very slowly, though."

"I'm glad Danny is still with us. I really thought he would…"—Eleanor shook her head—"He's such a fighter."

"Yes. You all are, Elle."

"What about mom and dad, Benji? Have you spoken to them today?"

"Early in the morning, before they took their flight here. And luckily for them, they were at a stop in Lima when the news of the antidote came, so I texted them right away. They'll arrive at about 11 pm."

"Great. Great. Poor things, at least they are traveling knowing the worst has passed."—Benji nodded—"And you, kiddo, have had some rest?"

"Yeah, I could sleep a few hours during the night, but then I went to Lab to see how was the searching. It was really impressive watching all those brilliant minds working."

"Oh, yeah. I would've loved seeing Ethan working with Tobias. Those to hate each other, you know? I don't know how their egos fit the room."

Eleanor laughed, imagining the picture.

"And what about you, mister?"—He directed to Bryce—"I got the feeling you didn't sleep a wink last night."

"I didn't. I had to monitor you, but I went for a coffee and some food a few hours ago under the strict orders of my very good friend Benjamin."

"You're the best, Benji, thank you for taking care of him for me."— Eleanor squeezed his hand approvingly and blow him a kiss.—"Well then. Now that I'm feeling better, and under my strict orders, you're gonna go home, have some sleep, and spend a few hours with your sister, alright?"

"But babe... I ca-"

"Bryce Golden Lahela. I know you want to stay with me, and I swear if I were in your position I'd never want to leave your side, but please, pretty please, do this for me, okay? I bet you haven't seen Keiki since when…? the day before yesterday? Because I'm sure she was completely asleep when you left your apartment yesterday morning"

"Yeah, she was."—Bryce replied sheepishly.

Eleanor was still weak, and he could tell she was doing an incredible amount of effort to stay lucid and strong, but even like that, she had enough energy and strength to take care of him and Keiki. That selfless side of her would always marvel him.

"Please, I'd feel a lot better if you go to sleep and spend the afternoon with Keiki. But…"—She stared at him seriously and then her whole face transfigured in a wicked, almost psycho, smile—"If you don't do it, don't worry, honey, I won't be mad, but I'll kick you out of my room."

Benjamin giggled.

"Dude, do as she says. You know she means it literally, right? Because I'm already seeing her getting up from the bed and kicking your ass."

"Okay, okay, I'll go."—Bryce stood up from the bed, lifting his hands in surrender—"There's no need to use violence. Any special message for your beloved Keiki?"

"Yes, tell her I'm sorry I had to borrow his brother for too long and that I hope I can see her soon because I miss her."

"Yes ma'am."

*

When Bryce opened the door of his apartment, the smell of sauteed veggies gave him a warm welcome.

It'd always cheered him up having his sister receiving him when he got home, but today was different. Today he was grateful for having her after the living nightmare he had been into in the last 24 hours.  Her sole presence was enough to soothe him.

"Bryce?"—Keiki poked her head out of the kitchen and then ran towards him.—"Ohmygod, what are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's okay, don't worry. Elle's awake and getting better. She's so well that…—He chuckled, collapsing on the couch.—" she made me come here to see you and have some sleep. She was worried you were too much time alone… And she's right, of course.  I'm sorry Keiki, I know how abandoned you must have felt."

Keiki shook her head, sitting beside him.

"It's okay, Bryce. You needed to be with her, I totally get it. Not knowing what was happening was worse."

"I know."—He gave him a sad smile.

"Do you wanna have lunch? I have mashed potatoes pie in the oven. It should be ready in like twenty-five minutes."

"Ooh, are you serious? The one you cooked the other day? Because that was superb, Keiks"

"Yeah, the same. I actually was thinking about bringing you some to the hospital. I know you told me not to go, but…"—She gave him a sheepishly smile, shrugging,  but before she could continue, Bryce hugged her, warm and tightly.—"Woah, woah, is just mashed potatoes and ground beef, no need to do such fuss."—She added instantly, patting him nervously in the back.

"Keiki, I was an ass with you for years, and now you're taking care of me like this? I don't deserve it."

"Nonsense. You know we are okay now, and you care a lot about me too, this is nothing."

Seeing Benjamin and Eleanor together had put a lot of things in perspective for him. How caring they were to each other had reminded him of his own relationship with Keiki before he moved to California. They were very close, so close, that he had no doubt that if he hadn't distanced himself the way he did, they wouldn't be much different from how Elle and Benji were.

Even if she was a six-year-old princess living in a fantasy world and he was a teenager soon-to-be a college student, they used to spend a lot of time together back in Maui. Entire days at the beach, swimming, playing hide and seek, playing tag, building sandcastles, doing races, finding forms in the clouds during the day, and looking at the stars at night.

He even learned about constellations just because she liked the stars.

But all that ended when he left and never came back.

He knew closeness and affection were still there, even if had passed ten years, even if she wasn't a kid anymore, but a teenager with a strong character that pretended to be too cool for affection. Because if it weren't like that, Keiki wouldn't have risked what she risked at coming to Boston. She wouldn't have forgiven him how she did weeks ago, and things wouldn't be as good as they were now.

After all those years, Bryce was still her refuge. The only person she could come to. And after all those years, Keiki still managed to bring out the best of him. She was making him thrive to become a better brother, a better man.

"What is it?"—She asked, as Bryce was staring at her tenderly.

"Nothing, I was just remembering those days at the beach. You were so little, and you're so grown up now… and you're even taking care of me when I should be the one taking care of you…"

She smiled sheepishly at him again.

"That's what siblings do."

"That's what I should've done in all these years and I didn't, and what I should be doing now…"

"Bryce, how many times I have to tell you…?"

"Okay, okay, I won't say it again. But… the thing is..."

He breathed. It wasn't easy for him. In fact, he used to avoid at all costs this kind of conversation because there were still a lot of issues he had to resolve with himself, but he felt like he had to say it now, without thinking it too much.

"What?"

"Look… I know things cannot be like they were before, but… I want you to know that you're the most important person in the world to me, Keiki, even if it seemed otherwise for ten years.  Nothing has changed between you and me, okay?"

He didn't know how else to say it but in the way he was feeling it.

And for the first time in weeks, Bryce saw Keiki let her guard down. Her eyes swelled with tears at the mention of those memories at the beach, but after hearing his last words, her lips quivered.  

"Okay,"—She said, wiping a tear from her eye—"But, gosh, what's gotten into you?"

What had gotten into him was that almost losing Eleanor also put a lot in perspective regarding how much he kept to himself. And he couldn't let that happen, let alone with Keiki. She deserved better. She deserved so much more than what their parents (poorly) had given to them, emotionally and affectively. He had to make things right, starting now.

"I love you, Keiki."—Before a sob could escape from her mouth, Bryce hugged her again, this time more tightly. –"Don't you ever doubt about it, okay? And please remember that, at heart, we are the same Bryce and Keiki playing on the beach. No matter the years."

He felt her fighting the sobs, but then she just let it flow.

"I love you too, Bryce."

Bryce breathed contently at hearing those words. That's all that he needed to hear.

After several seconds, Keiki parted from him, wiping the trace of tears off her face.

"This is a one-time bonding moment, right? Because if you're going to be this cheesy and make me cry everyday…"

Bryce chuckled.

"No, no. I know this is not your thing. This is just for today, a cathartic moment after what happened with Elle. But now we return to our regular sibling's relationship, where I'm obviously the cool one."

"HA! Dream on, Bryce. Let me inform you that today I award you with the title of the weirdest and most sentimental brother of the year."

He smiled fondly.

"I guess that makes me even cooler. I'm a total winner. Thank you, sis."

"No! You're the… You know what? Nevermind. After what you did yesterday with Kyra, and considering you're a very caring boyfriend with Ella, yeah, I'll let you be the cooler sibling, but only for this week."

"Oh, thank you for your generosity, loser."

Keiki rolled her eyes, and before sauntering to the kitchen, she ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Take a shower, weirdo. By the time you finish with all your beauty care routines, lunch will be ready."

*

He wasn't sure how many times he'd pleaded for that moment, how many times he'd imagined it on his mind, but it was finally happening. And it felt a thousand times better.

Bryce opened the door of Eleanor's room just as he had arrived at Edenbrook. With a navy-blue hoodie, light-blue jeans, and black and white sneakers. No hazmat suit, no gloves, nothing.

She was asleep. Her chest was moving harmoniously under the sheets, and the vitals on the monitor were almost on normal levels.

She was alright.

He walked to the other side of the bed and carefully laid behind her, placing an arm around her waist. She wasn't as cold as in the morning but still wasn't at her usual warmth. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and breathed deeply, smelling the natural scent of her body mixed with some very faintly remnants of her shampoo. The sweetness of the pomegranate added even more joy to the fact she was safe.

His hot breath must have woken her up because, after a few seconds lost in her scent, she started stirring on the bed until she finally turned around and faced him.

"I'm dreaming? Why you're not using the hazmat suit?"—She muttered in a slurry voice, looking equally surprised and confused.

He smiled, sliding his index over her cheek softly.

"No, you're very much awake. And safe. Toxin-free safe."

"Toxin-free? Are you for real?"

"Absolutely, the last two blood tests have shown you have no traces of the toxin in your bloodstream."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it… I thought I would die here…"

"And I told you you would live."      

"Yeah, and I've never been happier to be wrong."

They both chuckled

"And I've never been happier to be right."

After a moment, Eleanor started caressing his just shaved and very smooth cheek, but suddenly, she stopped, staring at him expectantly.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Are you gonna kiss me or not?"

"I was just letting you contemplate me, I'm sure you missed touching this flawless skin."

She snorted.

"I know last night I said I don't find you cocky anymore, but I can change my mind any minute, you know?"

"But you won't."

Bryce parted from her slightly and took his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He scrolled a few seconds and then a piano melody started playing.

"Is that…?"

When I fall in love it will be forever

Or I'll never fall in love

"You said you wanted a kiss just like Isabella's…"

"Oh my god, I should've known you'd do this."

She placed her hands around his neck.

"The problem is… If I remember this right… you were the one who kissed me that night…"

"Yes, now you will. Period. You're talking too much."

"Now you realize I talk too much?!"

"Bryceeeeeee"

He laughed heartly.

"Okay, okay, miss impatience..."

Bryce tightened the grip around her waist and placed a hand over her cheek. After a few seconds of looking deeply into her amber eyes, he brushed his lips over hers. It was sweet and slow at first, but then he deepened the kiss, capturing her lips in his teeth and playing with her tongue just as she liked it.

Eleanor wanted a kiss like the one at Isabella's, but so much had changed since then, so much he had learned since then.

He knew the way she liked his kisses, how much pressure to use or how deep his tongue could go, so he was going to give her exactly that,  a dreamy kiss, because honestly, he didn't know any other way.

After several seconds, he parted from her.

"Happy now?"

"Mmm… I'm not sure… Maybe you can give me another taste?"

He shook his head and kissed her again, harder. And this time he left her breathless, and giggling, and with the goofiest smile he had ever seen in her.

"Wow. 100/10."

"I'm amazing, I know."

And then, she couldn't help but look at him adoringly. Because yes, yes, he was indeed amazing. And she was completely in love with that amazing man.

"Te amo."—She said with warm candor, and then kissed him enthusiastically and incessantly for several seconds. –"I love you... god, I love you so much… Telling I was in love with you… without being able to kiss you… was a nightmare! But now I can... Finally…Kiss you…As much… as I want…"

Once she stopped, Bryce looked at her, marveled.

"What? Too much?"

He shook his head, biting his lower lip.

"No, it's perfect. Feel free to act like that whenever you want."—He kissed her forehead—"I love you, beautiful."

After receiving the official information from Ethan, June, and Baz, and being filled with kisses and hugs from Benjamin, Bryce wheeled her to her new room so she could take a shower. She didn't want to spend another second in that damned room.

"This is mine?"—Eleanor asked, inspecting the light blue bag over the bed.

"Yeah, I swung by your apartment before coming here, I thought you would need some fresh clothes."

Eleanor stood up with difficulty and wrapped him in her arms lovingly.

"Thank you, my love."

He smiled, melting by the words, but before he could say anything, she clung to him clumsily.  Her legs failed her.

"Mmm, I think someone's going to need some help in the shower."

"Ooops, too bad that someone has a boyfriend with magic hands to help her."—She replied teasingly.

"C'mon, princess."—He whispered, picking her up in his arms and taking her to the bathroom.

Once he collected her shampoo and conditioner from the bag, he returned to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

When Eleanor looked up at him, he felt the air changed instantly.  

It's the intimacy.

The formula is simple. It has always been simple between them. It's just the two of them present at the moment. Whether they're alone or in a group, it doesn't matter. It can happen anywhere. It could be just an intense look; a simple touch; even a hug without saying a word. They only need to be focused on each other.

Bryce took a few steps until his lips were inches apart from hers.  His hand took with precision the hook of her gown, and after untangling it, he threw it to the floor.

When his hands touched her waist, her whole body trembled, and a soft moan escaped her mouth, but soon she shut herself up by kissing Bryce delicately, sinking a hand under his shirt, craving for his skin. He conceded to her desires instantly, of course. After tugging his hoodie and shirt out, Eleanor roamed her hands roam over his bare chest, and leaving a trail of kisses up his chest, until she reached his jaw.

The heat radiating from his body had always soothed her. Even before realizing she was in love with him, being in his arms was her favorite place in the world. But when Bryce pulled her closer, enveloping her arms around the small of her back, and pressed her body flush to his, this time, Eleanor felt like she was coming home.

He wasn't her favorite spot anymore.

He was her home.

The supreme feeling of comfort and tranquility. A safe haven where she could be herself and where she's the happiest.

And where she can be at her lowest too. So she let it all go.

She let go of all her fears, all the what-ifs that had been torturing her mind; all those questions wondering how much she would've missed…

Millions of kisses and hugs; thousands of showers together; thousands of hours of amazing sex; thousands of nights talking, drinking, dancing. Adventures. Movies, movies interrupted by his unstoppable talking, by his kisses, by his innuendos. Sleepovers on the couch with Keiki. Countless moments just staring at each other without saying a word, because sometimes even for Bryce words wouldn't be necessary.

She wouldn't have lived the life she wanted to have with him. The future she wanted with him. She couldn't have known him as she always wanted, with all his wonders and terrors.

A sob echoed in the immaculate bathroom. Bryce gripped her more firmly to calm her shaky body.

The idea of dying with so much left to give was devastating.

Because she was so full of love. The moment she realized she was in love with Bryce she felt like she was going to burst. When she told him she was in love, she was choking with words because her heart inside was bursting with her purest feelings and sensations. And thinking that she could've died without giving him everything she wanted to give him, without giving him everything he deserved, was maddening.

Even if it was in the past, the fear was still too vivid.

"Let it go, love, I got you"—He whispered, his hands always drawing soft patterns on her head and back.

Love.

She could've missed that too. Bryce calling her love. Bryce calling her in so many ways.

She had always wished for a beautiful love, just like their parents had, but for some reason, it was always out of her reach despite her best efforts.  And she could've died without experience it to the fullest with him. With the most wonderful person in the world.

Eleanor wrapped him more tightly, as if she's scared that he could go any minute now.  

"I'm here for you and I'll always be, babe. We have now a whole life ahead of us to do everything we dreamed last night, that and much more."

How? How could he know what she was thinking? How he could know her so well?

"But… we need to start somewhere, right?-- —He whispered, pulling her gently from him.—"We need to start with something small."

He looked into her puffy and reddened face and wiped the tears off her face.

"We'll start with a shower. You need to get rid of all the traces of that fucking toxin. You'll let me take care of you, and then, if you want, we can make a visit to see Kyra and the rest of our friends, who must be waiting for you expectantly to fill you with hugs and tons of love."

"I'd like that."—She replied softly.

"Perfect."—He said before leaning in the shower to turn the faucet on.

After a few seconds, Bryce led her to the shower, and both hummed at the feeling of the hot water running through their bodies. Then he turned and looked at her, deeply.

"Are you feeling better, gorgeous?"—He asked softly and sweetly

"Yeah, so much better. Thank you, my love."

He chuckled and then bit his lower lip.

"God, I love it when you call me like that"

"My love? Well, you are my love."

"Yeah, I guess it's just that… now I understand why you were so reluctant to all this pet name situation."

"Yup, I wanted to say it just when I was 100% sure I was in love with you."

"Makes sense. Now I feel guilty for being too annoying with it."

"You're a Goldie, being annoying is part of your DNA."

He raised an eyebrow, seriously.

"But don't worry, my love is my main pet name for you now. And mi amor. Or maybe you prefer that in the first place?"

Bryce narrowed his eyes, thoughtfully.

"Tough question. I like that too, Spanish sounds so sexy in your mouth."

She smiled mischievously and then planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Te amo, mi amor"

"Feel free to call me however you want, but I'm warning you, I feel things when you speak to me in Spanish."

"What kind of things, mi amor?"

Bryce roamed his hands over her back until he reached her tights. Then, he lifted her effortlessly in his arms and pushed her against the wall.

"Things that… "—He kissed her hard.—"even if it's tempting to do here, I'll save it for another time. I'll create a whole kink of you speaking in Spanish in the meantime"

"Mmm, a new kink. My, oh my. I'll exercise my pronunciation, then, because it has gotten a little rusty over the years."

She kissed him hard this time, pressing her legs and heels against his back.

"Okay, as much as I want to keep going, let's slow it down, babe. We should be doing some cleaning, you know? Or you'll stay as a koala indefinitely?"

She giggled.

"Yes, I'm a koala now."

"Oh, well, then thank you for simplifying me the choice. I was always divided between calling you a sloth or a koala, but koala is perfect. It wouldn't be too romantic of me calling you a sloth."

Both cackled.

"Only in the bed."

"Specify that? In bed like sleeping or like…—He raised his brows suggestively.

"I'm multifaceted, I can be both."

Bryce chuckled.

"Of course you can, babe."

Eventually, Eleanor gave up her dream of remaining as a koala forever and returned to her feet.

Bryce took the shampoo and massaged her scalp softly and dedicatedly, relaxing her. His hands were magical in so many ways.

Then he helped her clean some parts of her body she couldn't reach, teasing her once in a while, until she was all cleaned.  

Once he dried himself up and put his clothes on, he helped Eleanor getting out of the shower and took her back to the room.

He dried her skin delicately. At first, she tried to dress up by herself, but the shower had relaxed her so much, that Eleanor finally gave up, letting Bryce taking care of her as he wanted.

Even if she was feeling a little sleepy, that didn't stop her from feeling amazed with his dedication and the tenderness with whom he was pampering her.

His soft hands spread ever so softly the cream over her arms and legs, and the massaged her so exquisite on her back, that after a while she wondered if she was actually dead and that was heaven.  

Once she was all moisturized and dressed in a mint green pajama, he took the towel wrapped around her head and began combing her hair softly and delicately. At some point, she felt like she was six again, when her mum would bathe her and then comb her long wavy hair patiently until she was free of knots.

"Gosh, you could be a stylist or a massagist, and you'd do it wonderfully."—Eleanor moaned, feeling his fingers combing her hair as Bryce was directing the hairdryer to the nape of her head.

"Of course, I'd be wonderful in anything I pursue, especially with these magic hands."

After five minutes, her hair was completely dry.

"Ponytail or braid?"

"Braid."

She was about to lift her hands to make herself a braid when Bryce asked.

"French or normal?"

She turned around with her mouth agape.

"Wait, besides all your many talents, you also know how to braid?"

"Yeah, you didn't know?"—He chuckled

"No! When did you learn?"

"When Keiki was like… four?—Bryce replied as he was dividing her hair into three sections.—"She's always been bossy, you know? And one day after a day at the beach her braid was a mess, so she said: Bryze, fixit! You're a grown-up, you shud know how to braid hair... And of course, she was right! How incompetent of me not knowing how to braid hair, right? Especially since I had a little sister with very long hair."

"Awww, love, this is so cute! Little Keiki asking for a braid. I'm melting."

A couple of minutes later, Bryce took the hair bun from his wrist and use it to secure the end of the braid.

"There, my princess. All done."—He announced, kissing her crown.

Eleanor brought a hand to her hair and felt the patterns with her fingers.

"This is perfect."

"Why the tone of surprise? Of course it's perfect! I don't do anything that's below perfection."

"I know, I'm just admiring your beautiful work, love."

Bryce gathered all her things and placed them in the closet.

"Ready to see our friends?"

"Honestly? Not yet.

"Hey, you don't have to go if you don't want to. Do you want me to call the guys?"

"No, no…  besides I have to go to see Kyra."

"But you don't have to if you don't feel in the mood for that."

"I know, I just want to lay down a bit with you."

"Of course, babe"—He replied, laying beside her.

Eleanor turned to his side.

"I'm completely melted inside, you know?"

"Why?"

"For the way you've taken care of me, how you pampered me… you even braided my hair…"

"It's the less I can do for you, babe. This is nothing, actually."

She kissed him on the lips and then rubbed the tip of her nose on his.

"You know, if boyfriend lottery exists, I'm sure you're the biggest prize in history, and I'm the lucky winner."

Because she could win the biggest money prize in history, but not even that could compare to the feeling of having Bryce loving her.

Nothing compares to it.

______________________

A/N2: Make Bryce even more perfect than he already is? Achievement unlocked.  Like I love to hurt him (I love angst, actually) but I also love to make him more perfect and more god-tier than he already is. Pure self-indulgence here.

A/N3: As you can see, I'm cheesy/corny not only in romantic relationships but in fraternal relationships too. I have a good relationship with my brother, in fact, we have the same age difference Keiki and Bryce have, so I know firsthand the kind of relationship they could have. And I want to give them that, despite their personalities and the fact that maybe Americans, in general, are not as caring as we the Latinos but… being this caring is something you can learn, you know? So Bryce is learning that from Eleanor. Anyway, it won't be easy, Keiki and Bryce have a lot of issues to explore yet, but Bryce had to take the first step.

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate each and every one of you for supporting my story ❤❤❤

[tyunniverse]

Midnight Crisis

pairing: huening kai x reader

genre: fluff (?)

word count: 1728

synopsis: huening kai gets woken up by his neighbor's alarm every midnight and finally decides to do something about it

There it is again.

Kai lies awake in his bed, eyes heavy and dark circles evident. He stares at the ceiling, trying his best to cancel out the noise that's been plaguing his mind for countless nights but to no avail. He's grown to hate the noise with each passing day. It's been like this ever since he moved in two months ago.

The first night was bearable, he'd assumed that his neighbor had something important to do at midnight. After all, it wasn't unusual for a college student to be up that late to finish an assignment. The first week was excusable. Kai figured that they must be working on an extremely important project that couldn't wait until morning to be finish. The next few weeks were hell. He thought he'd be immune to the alarm blasting through his walls but he wasn't. It sounds off for five minutes and after that, waits another five minutes more to go off again. His suffering doesn't end until it nears 1 am, and if he's lucky, it'll end before 00:30. This became the norm for Kai.

But the alarm had been going off for more than an hour. A hundred thoughts go through Kai's mind. Should he just try to go back to sleep? At this point that seemed impossible. He'd tried a hundred times before and it never worked. Should he just stay up until it ends? He'd be tired by morning but that's the safest possible decision. But what if this goes on until sunrise? He can't risk falling asleep in class when he had a presentation first thing in the morning.

Kai bunches the his blanket in his hands. "Why me?" He groans, shifting to the side to check his phone. His classmate, Beomgyu, had left him a message a few hours ago.

Hyuka, I can't make it to class tomorrow. I'm at the hospital with my roommate. Sorry, but I think you have to do the presentation on your own tomorrow. I promise I'll make it up to you.

Great.

Given the news and the loud pinging of the alarm, Kai decides that he has had enough. He can't deal with the stupid alarm going off every night, especially when he really needed the rest.

He hops out off bed, grabbing a hoodie from his closet and putting it over his shirt before storming out of his room.

—

You were beyond tired.

The classes you had on that day had all conducted tests, leaving your brain fried by the time you got home. You immediately pass out once you reached the comfort of your bed, not even caring to change out of your clothes. Your mind peacefully drifts into sleep, remembering that you had something to look forward to at 1 am.

You never forget to set your alarm. Sometimes, it was hard waking up in the middle of the night when you're having such a good time sleeping, but you made sure that it went off every five minutes until you're forcibly awoken by it's blaring sound.

The drama your best friend, Soobin, had recommended to you had been the highlight of your day since the beginning of the semester. School has been nothing but the source of your stress and you found that watching the new episodes every night helped you get through it and prepare yourself for anything to come. Little did you know that your energy booster had become the bane of someone else's existence.

"Excuse me!"

You were woken up by the sound of loud banging on your door. Having just come to your senses, your eyes wander to you phone that had been blasting your alarm since 12 am. You reach out to it, checking the time and panicking once you saw that it was way past the time slot for your drama. It was about to finish.

"Shit." You scramble towards your laptop, hoping to at least see if there was still hope to watch it until your attention was brought back to the loud banging on your door.

"Excuse me! Is anyone in there?"

You frown. "Who the hell disturbs people in the middle of the night?"

The place was quiet for a while until the banging came back. You take one last glance at your laptop before treading towards the door. You grab anything heavy along the way in case things get a little weird with your unexpected visitor.

Kai rubs his eyes as he waits for his neighbor's door to swing open. His ears perk up when he hears shuffling behind the door. It opens for about an inch wide, raising a few questions in Kai's mind.

"Do you need something?" You speak out from behind the door.

Kai's brows knit as he leaned a little closer. "It's me, Huening Kai, from room 208. I need to talk to you about something but isn't refusing to open your door a little rude?"

"Oh, sorry." You relax once you realize that the visitor wasn't a threat. You'd seen him a lot on your way to your room but you've never interacted before. All you know was that he seemed like a pretty nice guy. "Ah," You look up at him. He looked kinda cute despite his tired look. His messy hair had almost entirely covered his eyes and his hoodie had a molang print on the side. "But isn't it also a little rude to bang at your neighbor's door at 1 am?" You ask him, brows raised.

Kai purses his lips, trying his best to hold off on snapping at you. He was truly at his limit. "Not when that neighbor has kept me up for the past two months with their stupid alarm?"

"What are you— oh." You cut yourself off upon realizing the entirety of the situation. Maximum volume. You had set your alarm at maximum volume to make sure you never missed an episode. It had barely been effective on you but it sure did its work on your neighbor. In hindsight, you should've seen this coming.

Kai watches as you space out and decides to just tell you then and there instead of waiting for you to invite him inside. "Uh, listen." His hands fidget, trying to get through the awkwardness. "You must have something important to do but please be responsible with your alarm. It's ringing has kept me awake since the start of the semester and I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since. I have a presentation later and I really need to get some sleep before that, so can you please tone the alarm down or just shut if off? I don't think I can survive another night like this."

There he had it.

Kai felt a bit better. He should've done this sooner. His problems would've been solved by then. He figured that you'd apologize and stop your alarms since by now, the two of you have probably reached an understanding.

"I understand your side, I really do." You tell him, looking up at his now smiling form. "But I can't lower the volume." His smile disappears.

"What?"

"I can't wake up if it's not at maximum volume. Please understand, I need this in order to wake up." You insist.

Kai didn't know how to react. He'd been so sure that you'd cooperate that any other responses would have rendered his mind blank. "What?" He repeats. "Then, can you at least tell me why it's so important for you to be awake at this hour?"

You cant. You can't tell him.

The moment he finds out that you were willing to sacrifice his sleep for the drama you've been watching, he'd never let you hear the end of it. "I have a project and it needs to be finished by tomorrow."

Kai crosses his arms, frowning. "So you're saying you have an important project every single night?"

You hold your breath. "Yes?"

"Yes?" Kai scoffs. "Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm serious!" You wage him off. "I really do have one!"

Kai takes a peek at your room and sighs. "Then bring it here. The least you can do is prove that you're telling the truth. I can't keep suffering like this, Y/N."

Hearing your name made you nervous. Of course he'd known your name, he had delivered your packages a few times when it ended up in front of his doorstep by mistake. What's worse, he wanted you to show him the project you made up on the spot to hopefully escape the situation. Your mind goes blank, and there's only one thng that passes through it despite being fully aware that this solution was only temporary.

"I'm sorry!"

"Huh?"

Kai freezes in his spot as the door slams shut in his face. He hears you run back imto the safety of your room and he's left standing there, speechless. It takes him a few seconds to register what had just happened.

"Hey!" He reaches out for your door knob, twisting it a few times before giving up and knocking on the door. "Y/N? Y/N! Open up! We're still not done talking!" He knocks a few more times. "Hey!"

You snicker, hellbent on ignoring him and focusing on what's left of your show. Even if it's just the ending of the episode, it was enough to at least get you through tomorrow.

The episodes starts loading after a few clicks and you move to get your headphones. That's when you realize that Kai had finally stopped bothering you for the night. A smile creeps in your face as you feel a mixture of relief and guilt. "I'm sorry, Kai, but I need this."

You plug your headphones in and was about to focus on the episode when a loud alarm starts blasting through the walls of your room. Eyes wide, you check your phone to see if your alarm had beem turned off. It had been dead ever since you got up, which meant that the sound could only be coming from the room next door.

You jump when you hear a rather loud laugh coming from Kai's room, followed by him banging on your shared wall. Your phone buzzes with a notification and you check it.

Hey there, neighbor! If I'm not gonna get any sleep then so are you. Suffer with me >3<

[ladynyctophilia]

Avoiding Red

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 

Mature Themes

Pairings: Vivienne Tang x MC (Rozario)

(Vivienne’s point of view.)

Tick, tick, tick…

Hours had passed, but Vivienne was stuck in time. Her long, slender hands gripped the sides of the vanity. It was the only thing that kept her tethered to the real world. She didn't know how long she'd been standing like that. Hours? Minutes? She was in a statue like trance—a statue on the break of collapsing. 

Rozario. 

Rozario was gone. 

My Rozario.

Vivienne blinked, wide-eyed and trembling, like an animal caught in a cage, struggling to control the storm of emotion that churned inside. She glanced at the mirror but hissed as the invisible noose yanked her gaze away. She choked.

I'm a monster. 

But her gaze hardened.

No. Look at yourself. 

Begrudgingly, Vivienne lifted her head, heavy with demons, and locked eyes with the enemy in the mirror. Herself.

I promised her. 

Vivienne declared to herself, unblinking, her heart pounded as threatening as a war drum. The Poppy escaped, but at what cost? Their newest member paid the price. It made Vivienne want to wrap herself up in a black hole and cease to exist. Without Rozario to color her life, she felt empty, numb to everything. A woman in red, walking alone in a world of black and white. No diamonds could satisfy this river of misery. How long could she swim before she drowned? 

If I held on tighter...

A crack of emotion rippled across Vivienne's features as an anguished cry ripped out from her throat. She never cried, but here she was crying, screaming with the voice of a thousand sirens, shoving off all the contents on her vanity. Glass shattered, and the sound of chaos became her music: dance sad girl, dance. 

Glass soared in every direction, obliterated on the floor. The perfume began to pool out and around the shattered bottles, like blood escaping the veins. Some shards of glass even managed to puncture Vivienne's skin, but she didn't notice, or maybe she didn't care. Besides her jagged breaths, the room was quiet again. The smells, however, were quite loud, tangling for dominance. 

I can't do this. 

Vivienne thought to herself as her hair ghosted over the glass-covered surface of the vanity. With shame, the tears were beginning to burn, so she stroked her ring in search for comfort, but it brought her none. No. With quick realization, Vivienne gasped, yanking the ring off as if it might burn her. The last person she used it on was Rozario. Her heart did a few somersaults—the bad kind. 

I stabbed Rozario. 

Her breath hitched.

I poisoned her. 

Making a choice was one thing, but accepting it? Her body collapsed on the vanity, tears mapping down her already wet cheeks. This crippling burden made it to overwhelming to stand. Like a racehorse pushing past its limit, she wasn't physically unable to continue. Besides her rapid breaths, she didn't make a sound and completely disregarded the state of her makeup.

There was no other choice. 

A voice from a past Vivienne chimed in. A last-minute attempt to justify what she had done.

Without that poison to slow down her heart, she would have bled out.

"She could already be dead," Vivienne winced. She could feel what was left of her heart sliding into the pit of her stomach. Vivienne groaned into a cough, clearing her throat. "Ugh," Vivienne silently cursed in french, rubbing her temples to soothe a growing headache. 

Okay. That's enough. 

She needed to get up. She needed a plan. 

After that, much-needed outburst, Vivienne had once more regained control and recovered her mask, but she felt terrifyingly empty. Like everything human had been stolen with Rozario, but finally, Vivienne found her feet, dragging her gloved hands down her rapidly aging face. 

Fuck.

Vivienne thought as she glanced at the mirror and took in her appearance. Emotions were never good for the skin. 

Regret hung in the air, and a small part of her knew she should have just left in Venice like she originally planned. Then this day would have never happened. Rozario would have never been shot, and Vivienne wouldn't have known this avalanche of agony. She had tolerated heartbreak before, but never to this extent. It was like the entire world had swallowed her, with nowhere else to run, and when there was no escape, Vivienne would make her own escape. 

Rozario was gone. 

She repeated in her head. The one-hundredth declaration was not as grueling, but none of The Poppy knew where their prized artist was….or IF she was. Seeing Rozario fall off the helicopter was like something from a bad dream, but it wasn’t a dream. She winced at the memory. The gamble with the poison might have saved Rozario from bleeding out, but it didn't save Vivienne from the betrayal that masked Rozario's face.  Vivienne didn't have time to explain, and now she might never get to explain, and maybe that was the best thing for Rozario. A reminder to the young artist that life with The Poppy wasn't a vacation, yes they lived a life of freedom, but at the end of the day they were criminals with a lot of money on their heads. 

Very suddenly, Vivienne became acutely aware of the objects in her room that were stained with Rozario's presence. Her eyes twitched, and her mind went from everything to radio silence. Rozario's half-finished sketchbook rested on the table with a dull pencil nested nearby, and near the door were her sandals, worn from their lighthearted adventures in the major cities they've visited, and Vivienne didn't even want to begin thinking about her lover's clothes that waited to be worn in HER closet. 

Oh no. Don't look. 

She looked. She looked at the bed, their bed. It's where Rozario should be right now. Nowhere else. With possessiveness, the fire was relit and bulldozed over any control that Vivienne had JUST regained, and without skipping a beat, Vivienne went on a rampage. The thief was no longer in control of her own body as she ripped down the curtains, pushed over the couch, flipped over the table, and shattered every mirror insight. Red. Red. Red. RED!!! With her leather gloves torn, blood now dripped from Vivienne's clenched fists, a matching addition to her cape, but Vivienne remained unfazed as she turned her gaze towards her next victim. 

The bed.

Bundling up the expensive sheets in her arms, Vivienne marched over to the open window and flung the sheets out, watching as they were stolen by the wind and never seen again.

Huffing and puffing, Vivienne was breathing like she had just finished a marathon and lost. Even the air was begging for mercy, but a spark of morning temporarily blinded her.

How DARE you.

Vivienne's gaze pierced out the window as shades of purples and pinks bled into the Paris skies. The world had no knowledge of Vivienne's grief. It merely just carried on without being swayed. It was a reminder of how insignificant their lives really were. That was a nature Vivienne desired to possess, but when it came to her precious Rozario, she couldn't. Shame. It was going to be a beautiful sunrise, if not day. She blinked out tears, a cool down from her rage as she admired the delicate colors that swam in the skies. It reminded her of Rozario.

A heavy fisted knock jerked Vivienne out of her head. Leon. 

"Vivienne?" Leon called out in a gentle voice as if she might come out and bite. 

Oh, Leon. 

She could hear his big feet shuffling around nervously.  

"Yes, darling?" She answered, but made no move to open the door,  purposefully restraining any emotion in her voice that would give her away. Now, she had time to examine the full state of her room. It was a mess to say the least, and with the sun on the rise, many pieces of shattered glass glittered like a thousand tiny suns smiling at Vivienne specifically. She glared at them in return. Besides the glass, the bed was no more, if it wasn't broken, it was turned over, and the few plants that Vivienne kept were smashed on the ground. Leon couldn't see this or the state she was in. NONE of The Poppy could see this. She could feel the warmth of their concern from miles away, and she knew that Rozario held a special place in each of their hearts too...but with Rozario gone, Vivienne remained more distant than. 

"Zoe tracked the people who took Rozario. She's alive, and they have her in a hospital, eight hours away from Paris." Leon did well to hide the urgency in his voice, but the low rumbles of concern gave him away. "We don't know how long we have."

There was a pause as Vivienne closed her eyes, allowing the new information to seep into her being, finding strength from it. Rosario was alive. That should have been enough to lift her injured spirit, but knowing that the government had her amor in their clutches was enough to make Vivienne see RED. 

"Red…." she breathed, knowing the wave of temporary contentment the safe word would bring. "C-can you get us there in five?" Vivienne spoke up, a little shakier than she wanted.

"Easily," Leon declared without an ounce of hesitation. He was always the hero. Vivienne could have smiled at that, but she didn't. 

Now shaking, Vivienne let out a tired sigh, "wonderful," she almost laughed, "I will be out in five." Leon didn't respond, and Vivienne could hear the jingle of keys as his heavy steps faded away. They had an understanding. No words were necessary.  Rozario was in a hospital, and they were going to get her out. It wouldn't be the first time Vivienne had broken someone out of jail. Leon and Nadia were proof. How could a hospital be different, if not easier?

After Leon left to start the car, Vivienne excused herself to the bathroom. There wasn't any time to reapply a full face of makeup, but she recovered what she could, and exactly five minutes later, Vivienne marched out of her room with her red cape in tow and red lipstick threatening. Vivienne Tang was a woman in love, and the universe feared for whoever dared to stand in Vivienne Tang's way. They were going to get Rozario back because she was a Poppy and The Poppy were masters of doing the impossible.

To be continued....

[bozowrites]

My Brain Just Won’t Shut Up

Imagine

↳ When your brain just won't be quiet and his comfort is all you needed.

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou × Fem!Reader

TW: Anxiety kinda

Word Count: 1.9k

My mind won't quiet itself. It never stops shouting. I can hear their laughs. Their mocking words and threats.

I shifted in my bed again, trying to find a comfier spot. Maybe it'd quiet the voices in my head. It was almost five in the morning and I couldn't find myself in the blissfulness of sleep. Instead, I lay in bed, wide awake.

"Hey, Loser."

"You're so stupid and weak."

"Why are you still here?"

"No one loves you. Even your mom left you."

My mind won't quit. The events of the past kept popping up. Embarrassing moments, dumb things I'd done, mean things people have said and so on.

I felt tears fall down my cheeks and past the bridge of my nose. I just wanted it to stop. I don't want to remember. I curled myself into a ball, covering my ears as I whispered to myself, "Shut up." Over and over again. Nothing seemed to make it stop.

It was a never-ending battle.

The only pro in this disaster is the fact it was Saturday. I could sleep till three in the afternoon if I pleased. That was if I could fall asleep.

I let out a shaky breath as I sat up and rubbed my eyes free of tears. The room was dark, except for my nightlight in the corner outlet and the dim sunrise light coming through my closed blinds. I let my feet carry me to the door and down the corridor to the elevator.

Perhaps a drink of water would help. Or a snack. Something to occupy me.

As I left the elevator, I cursed at the loud ding. Rather annoying. I heard the clatter of dishes being moved and the small curses accompanied with it. Peering over to the kitchen space, I found a shadow in the low light of the sunrise scavenging through the cupboards.

"Hello?" I questioned. The shadow jumped, knocking over the cup beside them. "L/n?" Kirishima's red hair came to my view. I smiled slightly. "Hey. What are you doing up so early?" I asked, walking over to help with the small mess of water made after the cup fell over.

"Uh, I was a little thirsty. Thought I'd get some water. What about you?" I avoided his gaze and shrugged. "Same here." Though it wasn't the full truth, it wasn't a full lie. I was a little thirsty.

And hungry.

"Ah, okay." I grabbed my own cup of water and an orange and walked over to the table to sit. Kirishima soon joined, sitting right beside me. I smiled over to him and sipped at my water.

"What are your plans for today?" he asked, letting his cup clink against the table. "Uh, nothing much. Do some studying, maybe, What about you?" He smiled wide. "I was hoping to have a movie marathon tonight with the squad."

"Sounds fun. Which series are you guys planning to watch?" I asked as I peeled my orange. "You guys? Are you not coming?" I chuckled. "I thought you said it was the squad. I'm not part of the bakusquad, last I checked. I'm a loner in between everyone else's gangs."

Kirishima let a small whine out. His lips pouted out and his eyes teared up. Fake tears, of course. "I-I thought you were apart of our squad! L/n? Do you not love us?" I laughed. I loved small moments like these. "Of course I do! How could I not love you guys? I just didn't think I was part of it."

"Well, you are. Deal with it." Kirishima pouted his lips out and giggled. "Okay, okay, I surrender. I'm part of the oh-so-amazing bakusquad." Kirishima laughed lightly. "Well I'm gonna head back to bed. See you later, L/n." I waved goodbye as he left to his side of the building.

I sighed. This was nice.

It was already five in the evening. I had gotten in five hours of sleep after my conversation with Kirishima. He let my mind drift to more fun, better moments in my life. I even got an hour-long nap before diner. I had a strange dream during that hour, though.

My father told me a man was crushed to death by an overly large baby. Weird.

Now, I sat in Ashido's dorm room on her bed as we prepared to watch a bunch of our favourite movies. Kirishima sat beside me on the bed sharing a blanket with Bakugou on his other side (It was a miracle he was here). Denki, Ashido and Sero shared a few blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the bed.

"What movie first?" Sero asked. "Doesn't matter to me," Kirishima said. "Mine first!" Denki shouted, going to play his movie on Ashido's computer. "Please don't be anything stupid," I muttered. "Don't worry, Cutie! It's a great action, car chasing type movie. Very funny."

"Cutie? The fuck? Who you talking to?" I snickered. He smirked at me. "Well, of course, the finest woman in this room." I chuckled. "Mina, he's talking to you." She blushed, laughing. "You sure? I think it's you. I mean, have you seen yourself? You're a total hottie!"

I laughed. "She's right, you know," Kirishima whispered. I giggled bashfully. "Well, guess I should say you're pretty hot too," I whispered back, smiling at him.

"Shut the fuck already! Do your flirting elsewhere." Bakugou grumbled. I giggled sheepishly. "Sorry, Sparky. Anyways, on with the movie!"

The third movie came to an end. I was wrapped in a burrito-like blanket barrier. I munched on chips as I watched the credits. "That was good," Sero stated, yawning. "but I'm exhausted. Anyone wanna go to sleep now?"

Bakugou had left after the second movie, so Ashido had joined us on the bed. "I could go for some shut-eye! I need my beauty sleep, you know." She said and leaned into me, sneaking a few chips from my bag. Rude. "Why don't you guys stay the night, just for the hell of it? A slumber party!"

"That's genius," Denki mumbled. I shook my head. "Iida will be all over us when he finds out." Denki groaned. "What's the worst that could happen? There's five of us. What would we do? Have a fivesome?" I snorted.

"Or cause a hell load of trouble and noise, waking up all of Japan and maybe be the reason the world ends." Denki glared. "That's a little excessive." I shrugged. "It could happen."

"Come on! Please! It'll be fun!" I sighed. "Okay, okay. I'm in."

"I'm in too!"

"Me three."

"Me four."

"Yes! Should we get Bakugou?" I huffed. "He'd kill us in his sleep. And I highly doubt he'll want to." I pointed out. "I'll still ask." Kirishima said. "So kind." I muttered. He chuckled.

"He said no." He stated after a few minutes. I laughed. "Called it." Ashido raised from the bed. "Well, if you guys are staying the night, I need to go do my nightly routine first. I'll be right back. L/n, coming with?" I growled. "I'm comfy, though."

She giggled, trying to unwrap me from my burrito blanket. "No! Stop! Mina!" I let out whines as she dragged me from the warmth of the bed and blankets. "It's so cold!"

"You're such a baby."

It was well past three in the morning and the other four had already gone to sleep.  

Denki snored from his spot on the floor with Sero. Ashido was on her bed puffed out in a starlike position. Kirishima was beside me, a bit of drool falling from his mouth. I giggled. The light from the pink lamp illuminating his face nicely.

"So cute," I whispered. I pushed away a stray hair from his closed eyes and sighed. He's so beautiful. "L/n?"

I shrieked in surprise as Kirishima's eyes cracked open. Kirishima shushed me quickly. "You'll wake up the others!" I glanced around and sure enough, the others shifted in their sleep, though none of them showed signs of being awake.

"What are you doing up?" He asked in a whisper, sitting up. "Couldn't sleep." I shrugged. After rubbing his eyes and giving a yawn, he stared me down. "Why are you staring?" I asked, feeling myself become self-conscious.

"Wanna talk about it?" I raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?" He gave a warm and gentle smile. "L/n, I'm dumb but I'm not stupid. I can see you're clearly bothered by something. You've been tired a lot more these days. I almost started mistaking you for Mr. Aizawa."

I muffled a giggle behind my hand. "I'm not that bad, am I?" The redhead nodded. "You still look cute, though." I blushed. "You really wanna know?" Kirishima's hand rubbed my thigh slowly in a show of comfort. I placed my hand on his and leaned closer to his body. I want his warmth.

He gently grabbed my arm and placed them around his waist. I did the same with my other arm and fell into his chest. His hands rubbed slow circles onto the small of my back now. His body radiated warmth and comfort. I could smell his shampoo from the shower he had yesterday. His breath tickled my neck as he dipped his head into the crook of my neck.

"Take your time." He said against my skin. The contact sending a small shiver down my spine. The things he does to me.

"My brain won't shut up," I said quietly. I eyed the three others in their spots. Denki pulled Sero into his arms and let out a small snore. Those two were only friends, but they had more chemistry than my aunt and uncle.

"What is it saying?" Kirishima asked. I sighed. Maybe it's time to confine to him about my troubles.

"It's shouting about every mistake I've made." Kirishima's hold tightened on my waist and his breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "Everyone makes mistakes, you know. It's okay. You should have told me sooner. I'd stop everything I'm doing to help you."

I let out a small cry. "I'm sorry." My heart was loud in my ears. I've wanted him to hold me close like this for so long, but not in this type of situation. "Don't be." I leaned in more (if that was possible) and tightened my grip on him. It was a miracle none of the others woke up.

My tears stopped and I pushed back from his embrace. "Didn't realize I needed to vent that out." I laughed quietly, relieved. "I'm happy to help. Whenever, wherever." I caressed his cheek. He leaned into my touch and smiled a toothy grin. 

My heart pounded in my chest. His gentle gaze and warm smile was so comforting and beautiful and perfect.

"You're beautiful," I whispered, almost too quiet even for myself to hear.

"Not as beautiful as you."

[raisingsupergirl]

I'm Back! Returning to the "Real World" After Six Weeks Unplugged and Undrugged

If I'm being honest, I don't really want to write this post. I don't want to go back to the way things were. It feels like returning from vacation on a Sunday evening and setting my work alarm for Monday morning. I know my next vacation won't come for a while. I know I'm "back in it" now. And the sensation is completely opposite of what I'd expected from all of the "restrictions" I put on myself six weeks ago. But I'm sure you're just dying to know how I did, so here goes.

I failed. A lot. Just like I said I would. And the number one thing I failed at was reading to my kids. I tried it. Once. I started Harry Potter, but it felt like pulling teeth. I didn't enjoy it. The kids didn't enjoy it (even though I poured all of my energy into the BEST character voices). But even if I didn't read to my children, at least I didn't fail completely at reading. In fact, I stayed pretty true to my goal of replacing my weeknight TV with reading (with a subtle exception… but I'll get to that later), and it was honestly one of the biggest successes of all. Just an hour or two of quiet entertainment and contemplation in the evenings (whether with a Bible devotional or a bloody space adventure) did wonders for my mood and sleep habits. And speaking of sleep habits…

I failed at that, too. Again, not completely, but I definitely didn't live up to the whole bargain. I don't care how comfortable I got with going to bed at 9:45 pm and waking up at 5:45 am, when I would get home from work at 9:15 at night, there was no way I was going to have time to eat, shower, and wind down enough to be asleep within thirty minutes. And so, I bent the rules a little. But never more than an hour. And that's where I found my rhythm. I would never go to bed or wake up more than an hour different than I did the day before. That compromise allowed me to adjust slowly to different schedules without suffering too much.

Interestingly enough, the things I succeeded at completely are the things that sound like the biggest commitments. I worked out every day without fail, I didn't get on social media or YouTube, and I cut out all drugs (aka alcohol, tobacco, caffeine, night time snacking, and weekday fast food) cold turkey, right down to my morning pre-workout drink, which has a little caffeine in it. I'm not sure exactly why these things were easier to stick to. I'm sure a part of it has to do with my particular personality, but I suspect the bigger part is the nature of these things. They're easier to define. Easier to grasp and control. So what's the big deal about sleeping in a few extra minutes on the weekends (half-asleep rationale is always a little bit skewed…)? Why should I fight to read to my kids if they don't even enjoy it? But exercise and diet are very external. They're obvious to myself and to others when I screw them up. There's more accountability, so they're not as easy to make excuses for. The hardest promises to keep are the ones nobody knows about.

And… there's a third factor, and I hinted at it earlier. Remember when I said I didn't TECHINCALLY stick to the "no TV during the week" goal? Well, I didn't "watch" TV during the week, per se. But that's because I was playing a video game. A video game called "The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild." And, well, I was completely unprepared for it. First, Zelda is my jam. Always has been since I was a wee lad. Like most functioning adults, I fell away from video games after high school because I was trying to make all the monies and didn't have time to spend six hours at a time in front of a screen. But when Santa brought us a Nintendo Switch for Christmas, I knew there was a game I "had" to try. And, well, BotW didn't disappoint. Those who have played Skyrim or other open-world games would have known what they were in for, but I didn't. 

The moment I popped open that glider and drifted off of the Great Plateau, the real world faded away. This game had no limits. No boundaries. It's impossible to describe my awe at that slow and continuing realization as I delved into underground temples, climbed distant peaks, and trudged through vast deserts, so I won't try. Those who think video games are "a waste of time" will never get it, and those who embrace the value of story telling already know what I'm talking about. Suffice it to say that I "did the Zelda things." Not all the things, mind you. I didn't find all the koroks, beat all the shrines, or kill all the lynels, but I DID awaken the Divine Beasts, sneak into the castle dungeon to claim the Hylian shield, tame the royal mare, ride all the animals, build Tarry Town from the ground up, and head butt a guardian to death with the Lord of the Mountain. I trudged through every region and stared out at the realm from the highest spire of Hyrule castle. In the end, I defeated Calamity Ganon and brought peace to the land. And in that triumphant moment, I finally realized the truth about the game…

It was just another drug. You see, I never did have a real urge to sit down to a whiskey and a pile of snacks on a Saturday night, even though that had become an engrained habit over the past year. Why? Because I had an entire world to explore and save! And I needed to stay hydrated and healthy to beat the biggest baddies in Hyrule. The game completely overshadowed other primal urges. Any time I was feeling lazy or weak—times when I would look for a quick, mindless reward—I would pick up the Switch controller. And sometimes, that would be during the week. In fact, all told, I played 110 hours over six weeks. That's around two-and-a-half hours a day, EVERY day! So the amount of time I would have generally wasted with social media, TV, or "drugs," I instead committed to Zelda.

In the end, I'm not sure what to think about the whole six-week experience. I do know that I grew closer to God. My thoughts cleared significantly. I experienced deeper and wider peace, seeing previously scary and stressful situations with new clarity and confidence. I loved my family more completely, and I committed harder to my duties (work, family, etc). But I had low moments, too. Not enough to hit rock bottom or consider giving up, but because I knew what it felt like to ride that "high" with my savior and creator, to be present in the moment with a sense of purpose and appreciation, every moment of minor disconnection or apathy hit me harder than it normally would have. So I guess everything is relative. Once we know just how good we can feel, our expectations rise. On the other hand, my perspective has changed regarding rewards and fulfillment. A moment of earned relaxation or celebration doesn't need to include a glass of wine. I don't "need" to stay up late and sleep in on the weekends. And most importantly, my joy comes from God, not from the things I do, but there ARE some things that keep me away from God's joy. Mostly things that become habit—things I fall back on when I want to "check out."

And I guess that's the whole point. When we're present and intentional, life's good. We're happy with our choices and usually with the results. But when we're exhausted, when we've given all we can and think we've earned some reward (or at least a break)… well, that's when we make mistakes. And that's when we should just go to bed. Sure, maybe a little reading to calm us down and get our minds right first, but we're never at our worst than when we're mentally tapped out. And so, I plan to be more aware of this fact through the rest of the year. I'm going to continue to cut out electronics during the week. I'm going to avoid the Facebook scroll (which doesn't appeal to me even a little bit anymore). I'm going to enjoy sunrises and cuddles. And, most importantly, I'm going to create the time and space for quiet thought and divine whispers.

That's my secret to happiness. Do less (especially less "check out" activities like Twitter and television) and think more. Talk less and listen more. Let your "yes" be "yes" and your "no" be "no." In other words, live a life that speaks for itself and don't feel the need to justify your thoughts and actions to everyone. Live lightly, love deeply, and let the rest wash away with the tide. That's all I've got, friends. And you know what? This post was actually a joy to write. I'm excited to be back, to see my friends again, to share what I've learned with you, and to learn FROM you. And most importantly, I’m excited to enjoy all the beauty that the real world has to offer...

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Rocket Queen

0.7: Unwanted Apology

Henley's P.O.V

It's been two days since that hectic night. Madeline and I managed to get home just before sunrise with the help of Duff and Steven. Luckily, they had a car and offered to give us a lift. Honestly, I don't know how it would've went if they hadn't gave us a ride.

Apparently, Steven gave Madeline his number. She's been calling him nonstop. The only reason I know that is because Jake calls me and complains about it.

"I don't know who she's talking to but it's getting annoying!" Jake told me last night.

I just laughed at him and told him to go to bed. We had school today, so yay. A fucking Monday. To be completely honest, I forgot about the threat that Hyde imposes.

That was, until Hyde came up to me after school, knocking me out of my thoughts from the past few days.

"Hello, Henley," Hyde says, venom in his voice.

I turn around, seeing how bad Hyde's face looks. I cringe at the sight. His face is swollen and purple with bruises everywhere. Damn, Duff sure did do a number on him.

"Hey," I say nervously. God, what does he want with me?

"I haven't seen you since the other night," He says, leaning against the locker behind him. "Tell me, how's your lover boy?"

I blush as I realize he's talking about Duff. His hazel eyes pop into my mind. I really want to see him again. "Uh, he's fine. You gave him a good scratch on his head."

Hyde laughs. "Good. The fucker deserved it."

I try my best to not let my anger flare up. "Duff didn't deserve any of that. I did. It was my fault. Besides, you right about all of it anyway."

Hyde huffs, looking down at his feet. "No I wasn't. I was already drunk and took out the frustration I had on you. You were right about Stephanie. I don't know why I went out with her anyway."

I laugh. "Cause you were lonely?"

"That had to have been it," He responds.

We both laugh for a few moments before growing quiet again.

"I actually came over here to apologize."

I sigh, looking at him skeptically. "I dunno, Hyde."

"I didn't mean any of that. I really did that. If anything, you're the most amazing girl I've ever met," Hyde explains, trying to get me to forgive his harsh words.

"Des mots saouls, des pensees sobres," I respond, grabbing the rest of my books from my locker.

"What?" Hyde laughs, shaking his head. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

I laugh, shutting the locker door. "For one, it's French. And it means, "Drunk words, sober thoughts"."

"And what exactly does that mean?"

I sigh, clutching my books to my chest. I fake a smile at him. "It means, yeah, you might have been drunk, but you said those words because of the liquid courage. It gave you the balls to say it to my face. I'm sure you thought all of that about me. And I don't blame you." I sigh, looking down at my shoes. "It's all true." My eyes snap back up at him. I narrow my eyes. "You may have been right but that in no way means I forgive you."

I walk away from Hyde, feeling a headache form. In a way I wish that Friday night never happened. But then again, Madeline never would've met Steven. She really likes him. More than she's ever liked a guy before.

As I walk through the halls, I see my favorite pair of siblings plus Evangeline. Madeline's eyes are wide with happiness as she animatedly talks to Eva about something. I smile at everyone as I stand next to Jake. Madeline is telling Eva all about this awesome outfit she got last week. She's beyond excited about it, which is very peculiar. She's never this happy about clothes. I mean, neither am I unless it's a new Motley Crue shirt that Tommy sent me.

"Hey, Henley," Jake says from next to me, a huge smile on his face.

"Hello, Jacob," I respond formally, causing a smile to appear on his face.

He's quiet for a moment, listening to his sister's high pitched squealing about the perfect shoes she found before tuning her out. "What're you doing tonight?"

"Uh, well, I was probably gonna phone my best friend from L.A. Why?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out or something?" He takes a glance at his sister who's full attention is now on us. "Just us?"

I open my mouth to answer, but Madeline screeches the answer for me.

"She can't!"

"I can't?"

"Yes! We have plans tonight, remember!" She responds, her eyebrows raising. She mouths the word "Stevie" to me without her brother or Eva noticing somehow.

I nod my head, understanding flooding my features. "That's right. Yeah we got plans. Maybe some other time though?"

"Oh," Jake says, looking rather put out. "Yeah, that's fine."

The bell rings, signaling the end of school. Madeline grabs my hand, pulling me out the front doors of this piss poor school. The girl is so happy she's nearly skipping after she links her arm with mine. I laugh at her, shaking my head. This is probably the happiest I've seen her. Stevie must be treating her right.

"So, how's you and 'Stevie" doing?" I ask, nudging her lightly in the ribs.

She giggles a bit at the sound of her new guy's name. "We're doin' awesome. In fact, we have a date tonight."

"Okay, that's nice and all. Don't take this the wrong way, but what does this have to do with me?"

"Because, Duff's tagging along so you are too," She responds, a smile still painted on her cherry red lips.

I laugh, side eyeing her. "When the hell was my Monday night decided?"

"Last night when me and Stevie made the plans," She says, shrugging her shoulders like she didn't just throw me into a situation I probably didn't want to be in.

"Thanks for telling me only hours before we're going out," I say, sarcasm thick in my voice.

"You're welcome," Madeline says, not phased at all. She takes a look at the watch that sits on her wrist. "We have an hour to get ready. You definitely aren't goin' out wearing that."

I look down at my outfit, instantly feeling offended. I'm wearing the newest concert shirt that Tommy sent me, my ripped up blue skinny jeans, worn out combat boots, and an oversized bomber jacket that I'm positive was Tommy's. I used to kinda steal his clothes when I'd go over to his place. What can I say? I like oversized things. Back to the point, I think I look great today.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just, that's not really something you'd wear on a date."

I scoff. "This isn't my date."

Madeline smiles, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Don't act like you don't like Duff."

"'Like' as in I only spent one night with the guy, then yeah sure. I like Duff," I scoff, rolling my eyes. "I barely met him."

"I barely met Stevie," She says, nudging me.

I sigh. "That's cause you don't have problems opening up to people like I do."

"Maybe Duff could change that for you."

I smile at her hopefulness. Between the two of us, she's always been the more optimistic. No matter what she's always got her eyes set on the bright side. Completely opposite of me. I've always been very pessimistic. I'm always skeptical with everything. Hell, I was even skeptical when Madeline wanted to be friends with me. I still don't let her in on parts of my life-such as Athena and Tommy-but I have let her in on a lot. I'm constantly looking at the worst possible outcome. My mom claims that it's because of how I dress. I know for a fact that's bullshit because Tommy nearly dresses the same as me and he's the happiest person I know. Er-well- I guess I should say goofiest.

"Maybe," I say, for once letting myself feel a little bit of hope. Maybe he will be able to change that for me. I just have to be willing to take that leap.

"Anyways!" Madeline exclaims, unlinking our arms. She grabs my hand and starts to almost run, pulling me along behind her. "We have some getting ready to do!"

I laugh, letting her pull me down the empty street. I guess this date can't be that bad.

Just be yourself. Don't let him believe you're something you're not.

Although, after that scary judge of character that night in the bathroom, I think he might already know everything about me.

TAGS:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666 @tommyleeownsme 

@rock-n-roll-soul-frankie @unholy-brat @eak1996 @madsthegroupie @sinningsixx @kissyourrosegoodbyemotley

Duff: @daisystuffsstuff

[boundforwarp]

Abyss

It was a fun day at school, I got to see my friends, we had our last day party, everything was fun.

It turns out that I will be moving at some point during the break, which makes me a little sad, I actually really like it here in Willow. I'm going to miss playing Mario Kart 7 with my friends, everything almost seems a little too perfect despite the things that have been happening at home lately. Rei rushes over to me as we are just getting ready to go home.

"Hey Wilson, let's say we play zombies after school huh? I'm not doing anything after all today"

"Man that sounds fun, hell yeah, let's play zombies at my house"

We embark on the journey to my dad's place, a small apartment just above a homeless shelter, located right across the street from a bakery.

Stepping inside brings the sweet smell of mom making everyone something to eat, it's only 4 PM, but she loves to feed everyone throughout the day. The scent of potato skins fill our kitchen, while they aren't my favourite, everything she cooks is delicious. Thanks mom.

"Oh hey my boy! I see you brought Rei over today, how was your last day at school? Did you pass?"

She always bugs me in funny ways like that, it's a nice gesture.

'Yes I did haha, me and Rei are gonna go play games in my room if that's okay"

"Sure thing my boy, is she spending the night? Rei, did you need to use my phone just in case?"

While it wasn't clear at first, mum always had this funny way of implying things, Rei knew what she meant though. So she simply phones her parents to let them know about overnighting.

"Thanks mom, your food is so good, some day I'll be better at cooking than you!"

"You'll get there sweetie, just keep practicing okay?"

One day I'll be a really good cook. I'm still practicing, but it'll take some time. I really look forward to growing that progress with my parents in the future, they are both extraordinary cooks. I love the art almost as much as I love them.

A bit of time passes and me and Rei are playing games, enjoying our potato's and sour cream.

"Wilsooonnn, I'm going to go pick up your dad nowww, him and I are going out tonight, make sure to be in bed before sunrise, I love you"

Mum and dad will sometimes spend their nights going out. I don't know where they go or what they spend their time on, but both of them come home dressed up to extravagance. Sometimes a little bit drunk.

So it's just Rei and I, we've been playing the same match of zombies for a couple of hours, we die on round 46, the cool end game song plays and we're a little tired at this point from playing for so long.

It is 3 AM, usually both of them would be home by now, I am a little worried, but they should be fine, they are my parents after all.

"Wilson I'm pretty pooped, say we head to bed about now?"

Rei and I haven't stayed up for this long since our last summer break, it is pretty late, I can almost see the sun arising already from my window.

"Yeah, let's head to bed, hopefully we can play more tomorrow"

Not long after, we are laying on our make-shift bed on the floor, we aren't too bad when we work together on stuff like this. It's pretty comfortable, all of the lights are off and it's super dark in the house, the tiniest little bit of sun rising over the horizon through my window.

"Hey Rei?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you wanna be after you graduate?'

"Me? Well.. I don't know, probably a counsellor if I'm being honest. I like listening to people ya' know?"

This fits pretty well, I always find myself talking with Rei about things that bother me in my life. She's a pretty good listener, there were times where she's talked me out of hurting myself in the past actually.

"What do you want to be?"

I've never really thought about any of this kind of stuff, so I'm pretty short on answers.

"Uhm.. I don't know yet, I'll be fine. I just hope my parents will support me in whatever I end up doing, they're pretty lenient and don't mind if I go my own way in things I think"

"Haha yeah, your parents are pretty rad, sometimes I wish they were my parents too haha"

We laugh about it and then try to actually fall asleep.

I wouldn't be anything without my parents, for all of the mental ferocity that I've experienced so far, they've been the most supportive more or less in my patterned depression over the years.

Then the phone rings, which is odd considering how no one ever calls this late at night. It's probably mom or dad.

I pick it up.

"Hello, this is the Willow Police, is this Wilson by any chance?'

This is strange, why are the police calling us this late at night

"Uhh.. Yes, I am Wilson"

Something feels really off about this whole thing. The officer begins to speak again in a low, raspy, country tone

"Now uhhh' son', I don't know how to tell you this, but uhh' "

"Yer' parents have been in a car accident and well uhh' "

My stomach sinks, I am sure that they are both fine. There is no way anything can hurt them, they're careful beings. I love them to death.

"Yer' parents uhh' "

"They passed away in the accident"

...

This isn't real, this can't be happening. Someone must be playing some sort of prank, all I can hear is a loud high pitched ringing. This isn't actually happening. They can't be.

The officer continues to speak, but I don't understand any of the words, it's all gibberish. None of this is actually real. It can't be. Why are my eyes getting itchy, I need to scratch my eyes, they feel irritated.

"What is it about Wilson? Who is it?"

I feel like my head is being spun around in a blender. This isn't real. It can't be.

I can't go on without them, they are my everything.

There must be a way out of this.

The kitchen. I see mom's baked potato's on the counter, decrepit of any freshness, there are flies buzzing around them.

The reflection of the kitchen knife seems to be more potent than it usually is. More noticable than when I use it to cook any of my dishes.

This is it. Nothing matters.

The pain seeps into my insides, into my stomach, an ethereal feeling. I can feel a liquid coming out. It hurts.

Please forgive me Rei.

...

I wake up in the hospital, everything feels so heavy.

I try to move, but feel the worst pain imaginable.

Rei is simply beside me at the bedside, she looks like she's been crying for hours, and hugs me almost as soon as she notices that I'm awake.

"Oh my goodness Wilson, I am so happy that you're awake!"

What is she talking about?

"...Why am I here Rei, what happened?"

Rei simply holds me tightly, unable to say any further.

Then I remember.

The phone call.

That's it?

They're.

They're dead?

So I have to live with this?

For the rest of my life?

What am I going to do?