#// my brain is imploding on itself because of work things. i needed something positive

[drabbles-mc]

What’s the Point?

Kozik x OFC (Tawnie Trager)

Request by Anon: Can I make a request for Kozik please? Based on the song Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift - the lines ‘don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me’ have a hold on me. Maybe something with her being a member’s family/daughter/sister and have to hide from the club. Some angsty goodness but a kind of happy ending if you can!

Warnings: language, angst

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I read this and immediately thought of Kozik and Tawnie, so I hope you don’t mind that that was the pairing that I went with! All the other fics I’ve written for them have been so light and fun and a little chaotic because of who she is as a person, so this was a really fun switch-up. I was only able to handle the angst because I know that it’s all gonna work out in the end 😂 Hope you enjoy! (Other Kozik x Tawnie fics can be found Here)

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @espieviolet99​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @thanossexual​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @toni9​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @punkgoddess-98​ @paintballkid711​ @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @jitterbugs927​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @xeniarocks​ @choochoo284​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @bruxasolta​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @be-my-dear​ @kat8989​ (If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!)

Running around behind the backs of everyone had been fun at first. There was a type of rebellious adrenaline that coursed through her veins each time they scampered off to his dorm during or after a party. Sneaking out of the house without alerting her father late at night to head to his place became a game of its own. They were like a couple of teenagers, thinking with everything except their brains.

As the days went on, though, a quiet but incessant voice began to pop up in the back of her mind. She’d be shimmying back into her shorts in his room, or taking her boots off just outside the front door of her house so she could get up the stairs quietly in the small hours of the morning, and that’s when she’d hear it. When there were no other distractions, no hormones or need for doing the opposite of what she’d been told, it didn’t seem quite as fun anymore.

Tawnie was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. She knew full-well why she and Kozik were keeping things between them a secret. It wasn’t like either of them were seeing anyone else, it wasn’t anything quite so scandalous. But she knew that he was on thin ice as it was with her father, and if he found out about the two o them everything was just going to implode on itself.

When the waves of loneliness began to flow over her while she crawled into her bed, one that felt so empty now, she couldn’t help but to wonder if it would really be as bad as they’d made it out to be in their minds.

It wasn’t like she was the type to be afraid of disagreeing with her father, or with anyone else for that matter. This felt different, though. It wasn’t about the prospect of a fight between her and her father, or rather, it wasn’t just about that. She didn’t put emotional stock in much, but she people she cared about, she cared about with everything that she had. Being in the position of having to let go or be locked in permanent arguments and tension with either Tig or Kozik wasn’t someth9ing that she wanted. For the sake of the bubble that she’d created, she kept her mouth shut. But it was getting exhausting.

“Kozik?” she watched him from the bed in his dorm at the clubhouse as he pulled his shirt back over his head.

“Yea?” his face was still flushed, a gleam of sweat still on his forehead.

“You ever think about, you know,” she wasn’t a woman who had the word nervous in her vocabulary, but she found herself fussing with the edge of the blanket, what we’re gonna do?”

“Do about what?”

“Us. This,” she gestured between the two of them.

His brows knitted in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t wanna have to sneak around forever. I like you, and I’m sick of trying to fucking hide it from everyone.”

He sighed, nodding, “I know.”

“So, now what?”

“I just,” he ran his hands back through his messy blonde hair, “I don’t think now is the right time, T.”

Her laugh was completely devoid of any humor, “Then when is gonna be the right time? You’re patched back into Redwood—you’re here for good. Not like my dad can take that away from you now. Why bother keeping this a secret?”

“I don’t expect you to understand it, Tawnie, but it’s not that—”

“No,” she cut him off as she got up from the bed, “Don’t do that. Don’t talk to me like I’m some fucking kid, like I didn’t grow up in the middle of this club. I know how it works.”

“Then you know why it’s complicated.”

“It’s really not, Koz. If I’m not worth the work to you, don’t waste my fucking time.”

She quickly pulled her shorts on before blowing past him and out of his dorm. He called after her as she stormed down the hall, pulling her shoes on in the process. Anger gave her tunnel-vision, and she didn’t even notice that Juice was walking in the opposite direction. He saw the look on her face and he was about to ask her what was wrong when her shoulder abruptly slammed into his. He wasn’t even upset about it, knowing that it wasn’t really on purpose.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“Fuck off,” she called back over her shoulder. However, as soon as the words left her mouth, she felt guilty. Stopped in her tracks, she took a breath before turning around to face him, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that,” she shook her head, “Shitty day.”

He nodded, “Need anything?”

Her smile was half-hearted but as genuine as she could muster, “Nothing you can give me, unfortunately.”

“Okay,” he studied her face for a moment, “Sorry.”

She chuckled, “Me too.”

There were a few beats of mildly uncomfortable silence before she gave him one last sad smile and kept on going, her anger quelled but only for the moment. Juice watched her walk away, wondering if there was something that he should be doing or saying, but he didn’t know what. It wasn’t like the two of them were overly close, but he still cared.

She was gone and out of sight when Kozik came back out of his dorm, looking frustrated but not nearly as rageful as Tawnie had. Confusion flashed all over Juice’s face as he tried to figure out if the two things had anything to do with each other.

“Hey,” Juice figured the worst thing that could happen is that another person would tell him to fuck off, “you talk to Tawnie?”

“Yea, why?” Kozik’s brows immediately furrowed.

Juice shrugged, “I don’t know. She just blew past me and seemed upset. Super pissed off.”

“It’s a Trager thing,” Kozik tried to downplay it, “They all get heated like that.”

Juice wasn’t sure that he bought it, but he also didn’t have any evidence to prove that anything else was the cause of her bad mood, “Okay.”

That night, when everyone was partying into the small hours of the morning, Tawnie and Kozik found themselves on opposite sides of the clubhouse. They hadn’t spoken to each other since their argument that morning, and she was very good at ignoring people when she put her mind to it. She hardly even spared a glance in Kozik’s direction unless she was talking to someone who was near him.

He hated how much it stung. She spent most of her night near or behind the bar, a good way to stay busy and also away from him. If anything, it felt like he spent more time staring at her than usual, or maybe it just felt that way because this time she wasn’t always staring back, looking at him with a smile already on her face.

He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he saw the way that she waved Happy over and gestured to the door. The man gave her a nod, and she flashed him a smile, giving him a light squeeze on his forearm before heading towards the door to the clubhouse. Once the door swung closed behind her, Kozik was immediately up out of his seat and making his way over to Happy.

“Hey, Hap,” he tried to seem as casual as he could, “Where’s Tawnie taking off to?”

He nodded towards the door, “Said she was heading home early—didn’t feel good.”

Kozik nodded, rapping his knuckles against the bar, “Right. Thanks,” he tried to walk quickly, but not too quick to close the distance between the two of them.

She was just getting to her car on the other side of the parking lot. She was shaking her head, and Kozik could only imagine what she was thinking in that moment. Taking a deep breath to try and prepare himself, he half-jogged across the lot to get to her before she could sit down in her car.

“Hey, Tawnie, wait a second.”

Whipping around, anger settled onto her features once more, “Wait for what?”

“I’m sorry,” the apology was genuine, but it still felt empty when nothing was going to change.

“Good to know,” her jaw clenched but she could feel the lump building in her throat.

“Come on, don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Push me away.”

“What’s the point of letting you in if this is going anywhere?”

That hit him harder than any punch ever had, “You don’t think it’s going anywhere?”

“Not if we have to keep fucking lying,” she was trying not to yell, but it was difficult.

“I just need time to figure it out.”

Shaking her head, she told him, “There’s nothing to figure out, Kozik. We either start taking this seriously, and tell them,” she gestured at the clubhouse, “Or I’m just going to cut my fucking losses now. I hate,” she blinked hard, staring up at the night sky in an attempt to drive back the tears that were building in her eyes, “I hate that I let you do this to me, that I let you make me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like a goddamn mess! Like some pathetic girl just waiting for a guy to say that he really does love her. It’s bullshit. I won’t do it. I’m not going to wait around and beg. You can either choose to do this for real, or we can just end this right now. I’m not spending forever in limbo because you’re afraid of those guys in there.”

“What, and you aren’t afraid of what Tig is gonna say?”

“I’ve dealt with my dad my whole life. I can handle him. You need to decide who you’d rather piss off more—me or him.”

The statement hung in the air for a moment before Kozik took a deep breath and replied, “I’m sorry, T. I know this isn’t fair to you.”

“You’re right,” it was the first thing she’d agreed with him on all day, “It’s not.”

“Can we talk about it?”

She scoffed, “What’s there to talk about? You either want to keep treating this like some fucking affair, or you want to commit and actually do this.”

“You know I want this.”

“Do I?”

His heart sunk inside his chest, “You do. You know that I care about you. If you thought that I didn’t, you wouldn’t have wasted any of your goddamn time with me.”

She knew that he was right, but she didn’t want to cop to it. Gnawing at her bottom lip, she tried to figure out what to say, “I don’t think that I’ve wasted my time. But I think it’s going to turn into that if I don’t make it clear that for this to work we gotta step the fuck up and really do this.”

He nodded, “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time. I don’t think that this,” he reached and gently held her hand in his, “is a waste of time.”

“I don’t want it to be,” she watched as his thumb traced over her knuckles, “But the amount of shit that I’ve had to lie about over the years for this club, because of this club, I just,” she shook her head, “I don’t want this to get added to the list.”

“Do you trust me?” his eyes were desperately searching hers.

She paused for a moment before finally nodding, “Yea, of course I do.”

“Then don’t bail on me. Please.”

“Give me a reason not to,” her voice that was usually loud and carried across rooms, now fell softly into the night air, “Give me a reason to think that this is going to get better.”

Pulling her close, he caught her lips in a kiss. She knew that she should’ve wanted to pull away, not give him the satisfaction, but she just couldn’t do it. Kissing him always felt like calm in the middle of the chaos, and calm wasn’t something that she came by often. Her hands gently cupped the sides of his face as he leaned into her, pressing her back against the side of her car.

When he pulled his lips off of hers, he let their foreheads come to rest together, soaking up the fact that her hands were still delicately holding his face. Her thumbs ran lightly along his cheeks as she let her eyes shut.

“We’re gonna figure this out, Tawnie. I promise.”

She gave a slight nod, “I wanna believe you.”

“Then do it,” he pulled back so he could look her in the eyes, “Believe me.”

Her heart pounded inside her chest. Everything that she knew about what it meant to love a man in the club was telling her to turn around, get in her car, and cut the cord with him for good. But she’d always been someone who loved a challenge, who thrived off betting on the longshot. If there was any shot at them making it work, she didn’t want to lose it, not when the payoff could be one of the greatest things she’d ever had.

“Don’t make me regret this, Kozik. Please.”

“You won’t,” he pressed a hard, quick kiss to her lips, “You won’t.”

[pigeonsatdawn]

law school ep 15 (and solhwi overall)

gonna put in my two cents for the line that singlehandedly caused the solhwi nation to implode.

(apologies in advanced because my thoughts are too messy for me to neatly put it in a post but i want to say it anyway—also this is just the way i view solhwi so please don't come screaming at me if you disagree!)

i'm a diehard solhwi shipper and i love their relationship, and think they have one of the best relationships out there in the fictional world, and also definitely one of the healthiest. but to me, their relationship extends far beyond the romantic relationships we so often see portrayed in media.

kim beom said in one interview that this relationship between HJH and KS is kin to that of a soulmate relationship that's not necessarily romance, and i find myself agreeing with that notion. while soulmates are typically used to describe romantic partnerships, it doesn't necessarily have to start with romance. (many people have pointed this out in other posts so i won't go further down the fact that HJH x KS's relationship is a friends-to-lovers slow burn but you get me.)

but in fact, this bond between soulmates (or at least how i define it), in my opinion, is far beyond what we usually see in romance. as in, it's not just someone you like, but it's someone whose changed your life in a certain way. i know some may be averse to the idea of having to change for the one you love because loving is the notion of accepting someone in spite of the person's flaws, but what i mean is that when you love someone in this way, you want to change because of them. you see them, and they inspire you, and you grow in your own way. once again—growth is a very subjective idea, and even for HJH and KS we can see them grow in different directions—but we can clearly see how they have impacted each others' lives.

it's quite obvious, imo, how KS's life has been impacted by HJH's. she's,, not the "smartest" out there, and we can't deny that. we know she probably won't make it through law school if not for HJH's help. HJH is always there, a step ahead of KS, but he's not just being proud about it, instead opting to help her understand what the laws are and why they are the way they are, which KS especially needs, being a particularly empathic person. but we've also seen that HJH has helped KS beyond simply academics. he's always been there to protect her—almost all their interactions have proven that (the camera outside her house, the hungover soup, the switching seats—i think literally everything?..?..?.??). maybe she doesn't necessarily need protection, but surely thanks to his protection she's much better than she might've been without, especially knowing her terribly miserable life.

but i often wonder why HJH is so heart-eyes of KS of all people. i mean, i know love is love and sometimes you just catch feelings, but i believe there's more meaning behind their relationship than meets the eye. like you don't just look at someone so lovingly for it to be just a crush, y'know? the first reason that comes to mind is clearly simply KS's amicable personality. she definitely stands out: she's not that intelligent, struggling and barely surviving, but she has insane passion to pull through even despite truth attacks (like SJH saying she should reconsider her life decisions, saying that a chance of passing isn't something to be proud of, etc). she treats everything with such a positive outlook, and, well, KS is just an adorable human, so it's hard not to have a little crush her.

what makes KS stand out most, the core of her personality, is that she has hope, despite everything. she's been through shit because of her circumstances—left by her twin sister without a word, been in juvie, has no money to deal with it—you know, entire backstory. but instead she fights her weakness, even though she feel like it should've been her sister, even though she's not smart enough, because she has to do this. she keeps going, even though things keep turning out for the worse for her, holding hope when circumstances are most dire. but why? because she strives for justice. she doesn't want to be wronged. she wants the law to own up its mistakes, wants to make sure the law gets its own revenge. that's why she wants to work in law, yeah? and so she keeps fighting, even when hope seems lost.

okay but why did i mention this? because i think this is what HJH sees in KS. why? because this is what he needs.

HJH had lost hope. in an episode (i don't remember which), he mentioned he doesn't trust anyone, and it's obvious why: his uncle. it's the worst kind of betrayal that causes your ideals being burned down. he realized that even people who work in law can be corrupt, people who he thought he could trust above all others, people who seemed utterly good. and then he just begins to regard everyone with baseline amity, and no further. many have pointed out he doesn't have real friends (other than KS), even though he looks outgoing and friendly. it's not quite shown, but it must've been lonely. and a lonely fight, trying to prove that he will be a better prosecutor than his uncle was. and we know that HJH's nature as a person is to be calculating, objective, seeing things through facts and statistics; it's what makes him so intelligent. what that also makes him is realistic, and more often than not, that is almost equal to pessimistic—because reality just... sucks, as has been proven by the betrayal of his uncle. and further into the drama we see only more corrupt people in the business, so we certainly don't get out hopes fueled.

there's scarcely anyone in what we see who's actually pursuing law because they're passionate about the law, or if they are, they're not often very... human in doing it. examples: YJH, SJH, KSB are all very cold and indifferent types, people who really just come and do what they do, focus on studies (in the case of YJH, his teaching), and interactions with others are treated as "lesser". SJH and KSB in particular—they're good at the law, sure, but they seem to prioritize their position in law first and foremost. SJH and KSB don't hesitate to call out their losses, and even would rather not intervene for justice if it meant their position would be compromised. not that they're bad characters, not at all; i mentioned them simply to compare them to KS, who, despite not having the brains to do half the things she's supposed to do and earning herself nosebleeds everytime she tries, still does what she does for justice, passionately, hopefully, all for righteousness.

okay this was longer than i intended WHEW so i'll cut to the chase: long story short, HJH needs KS because KS gives him hope. hope of a humanity where people actually work in law and choose to fight for justice against all odds, even if the system itself is infiltrated by filth and corruption. KS is someone who, in her first lecture, was grilled the fuck out by Yangcrates, yet the first thing she does after she nearly throws her guts out is ask HJH whether he can tutor her. she does not ever lose hope, and that, truly, is what stands out to HJH, what he needs.

and KS needs HJH because he is her hope as well! hope by itself does no good if you can't actually do something about it, and KS knows this. HJH, despite seemingly just being someone to help her in her studies, is someone she needs if she wants to achieve her goals, if she wants to get back on the law the right way. which is why, in the end, KS and HJH are, while independent in their own way, dependent on each other in terms of their growth—KS gives HJH hope in humanity, HJH helps KS realize (make real) her hopes that would have been dreams if not for her.

oh my god i've rambled on this long without stating my point: THE DAMN LINE.

HJH saying he owes her makes sense in this light because, indeed, KS's positive outlook in everything keeps him going. it gives him a reason to keep wanting to work in law, because she is a reason to believe in goodness and justice, that there will be people who keep fighting for justice against all odds. he owes this to her—and perhaps that is why he goes all out to help her achieve that hope, perhaps that's why he goes out of his way to care for her. because they are each other's missing puzzle piece, the other half. soulmates.

sigh ok this was long ONE FINAL POINT. everyone has their own opinion on a solwhi ending, so i might as well chip in mine.

certainly, as a solhwi shipper, i want them to end up together. i believe they're really the best of soulmates, two people who just complement each other so well. but in the current timeline, them having a romantic relationship out of the blue would be,,, simply unnecessary, imo. they're still very much in the stage of friendship, and are both dealing with their own personal baggage, that shoving a romance would just take away the focus from their growth. i personally think even this platonic relationship is already a beautiful one, one that outshines many of the romances i've watched, even without having to flood everything under the romance light—which i think many can agree with me, seeing as how solhwi is shipped so much. i still want to see them end up together, though, so SEASON TWO LAW SCHOOL MANIFESTATION. please please please directors writers make it happen i am begging you. thank you.

sorry for this long ass post, thank you if you do read it and leave any thoughts! again this is just my opinion, you're free to let me know if you think differently or anything, or shoot me a message if you want to scream about solhwi or whatever i'm just solhwi brainrot 24/7 🤸🏻‍♀️

[literaila]

the agony of sanity: chapter two.

“Nothing at all”

spencer x reader

summary: four years is a long time to forget the person you once knew... *thought you knew.

warnings: s12 spoliers, violence, criminal minds stuff, inaccurate BAU things, angst?

part one here.

*

When Spencer sat down he still had that look in his eyes.

The one that was making her nervous. Making her want to run away, go back home where she belonged. God, she couldn't wait to get out of there.

She briefly noted the other eyes on her, inmates all around her staring.  

She swallowed before speaking, running a hand through her hair. “How are you, Spencer?” she plastered a smile on her face, hoping it would get rid of that look.

Spencer just stared at her as if she was delusional. A frown pinned to his face.

“What are you doing here?!” he hissed, one of the guards watching them giving him a stern look that neither of them noticed.

Y/N drummed her fingers on the countertop, she was glad for the thin piece of plastic separating the two considering Spencer looked like he was going to throw something at her.

Not that he’d ever do that, she reminded herself. She still knew that much about him.

She blew a breath out, his eyes still focused on her. “That well, huh?” she whispered, looking away from him. Trying to put a hint of humor in her voice, but all she could hear when it came out was the fear cracking through her calm composure.

“Y/N, I haven't seen you in four years!” Spencer whisper-yelled, making Y/N’s heart race with the force of his voice. Yes, she had been expecting some anger, and maybe surprise, but she wasn't prepared for it. And not quite so fast. Spencer wasn't usually one to have a temper. Or, he wasn't four years ago.

She could only remember him yelling at her twice. Both in instances of fear.

“There's a picture of me on the wall at the BAU.” she deadpanned, looking back at him, trying to seem nonchalant. She needed to keep her cool if this was going to go the way she wanted it to.

“You know what I mean.”

And she did, and maybe it wasn't the right time for joking but she had to keep this conversation as lighthearted as she could bear.

She could already feel her body ready to get up, to leave, and go back home. But she couldn't afford that, and they didn't have enough time. She was supposed to be mending things, letting Spencer know that she was there to help. She wasn't supposed to be joking around, letting her nerves take control of her.

This was so terribly confusing.

“You’re not going to answer my question?” she asked, trying not to glare at him and his eyes. His eyes that wouldn't lose that look, one that she couldn't quite place, but one that she knew wasn't good. Definitely not.

The two of them were completely unaware of everything else, the other voices in the room drowned out by the thoughts of both of them.

And it was strange because even after four years, four long years, this conversation didn't hold an ounce of awkwardness. It never had, even when they had only just met, the two of them were always good at being comfortable around each other. It was so confusing.

That was probably why Spencer didn't mind being angry at her. Even now.

“You never answered mine,” he responded, leaning away from her and crossing his arms. His body, now closed off, his entire demeanor distant.  

Which of course, she noticed.

She sighed, biting her lip before finally nodding, and blowing out a breath. “Emily called me,” she allowed, leaning back in her chair, and breaking Spencer’s glare on her. It was best to let him draw the conclusions by himself, to give him something to calm his emotions down.

He was confused now. “Why?” he inquired, mostly to himself.

Y/N granted him a second to think about it, taking the time to thoroughly examine him. She didn't notice any big indicators of exhaustion, and although he looked a bit more grey than she was used to seeing him. She was going to have to report back to Emily. Emily and all the other people that loved Spencer. She was going to have to remember this information, she was sure that they’d want to know.

She would, at least.

“Emily thinks you can help me,” Spencer whispered, running a hand through his hair. It was as if a light had clicked on in his brain, as if it was all just starting to make sense.

Y/N watched a second more, she wasn't sure if he was angry by this realization. She couldn't tell. She knew that his eyes were cautious now, more careful, as if he said one word too much the world would implode.

“You wouldn't help me.” Spencer denied, looking right at her and all of her nerves. His tone was diminishing, and his face was one of amusement. It was incredibly threatening. Also a reason for her to look away.

She scoffed, nodding her head sarcastically. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Doc.”

She felt a strange pinch of guilt, mad at herself for talking to him like this, for not doing what she meant to do. He was in prison, she was supposed to be helping.

Not confusing and ridiculing him.

Spencer held his hands up in defense, his eyes wide as he looked at her, “You haven't talked to me in four years! You don't even like me-”

“You’re right.” Y/N taunted, a bitter smile on her face. The words had slipped out before she could stop them, her temper getting the best of her.

She hoped he didn't notice the brief wince of regret that laid upon her face for a split second after.

Spencer laughed sarcastically, fed up with her evading. He leaned forward, his eyes angry “Then why the hell are you here Y/N?!” he hissed, his voice coming out strong and harsh. It almost made Y/N want to get up from the table, but she was going to hold her ground. She had to keep her cool, convince him.

She was here to be his advisor, not his enemy.

“I promised Emily I would help.” She affirmed, staring him down with a slight glare. “I’m not backing out on my promise,” she said firmly, her voice much calmer than his. Her composure the only thing that she could rely on.

“I don't need your help, and I’m not sure what Emily thinks but I don't want it! There's nothing you can do, and even if there was I don't want help from someone that hates me.”  

The pin of politeness was pulled from the two of them with Spencer's words. The barrier of courtesy that they’d both put between them removed itself, and suddenly, the bright hot fire was spreading across the table between the two of them.

They weren't in the visitor's room anymore, now they were back someplace they’d been before. A place where they were alone. A bad one.

A place where composure went out the door.

“I’m not here to help you, Spencer! I’m here to help the people that are desperately waiting for you to go back home, remember them?” Y/N fumed, pointing an accusing hand at Spencer as she made her point. “They’re scared straight with you in here! And I’m sure as hell not going to let you die in prison because of an old grudge I have with you!” Her voice increased with her emotions, gaining a few glances from people in the room Spencer and her were no longer in. She felt the flare of the fire in her gut, old and new emotions mixing together as she spoke.

Spencer tried to interrupt, his eyes only slightly softer, when she continued.

“I’m not particularly interested in whether you want me here or not. I’m here. I’m helping you.” The brief pauses in her words set a final statement to the conversation. Her eyes were hard, her stare deadly as she looked at Spencer, waiting for him to say something else.

To anyone else, she might look confident in her stance, might look incredibly intimidating, but she could feel that bubble of fear in her stomach. She could feel her anger at Spencer deflating, and her worry that he might see through her was beating her from inside out.

She just had to get this conversation over with, then she could leave. Then she could go somewhere to get herself together.

A couple more minutes at most.

“Y/N I’m-” Spencer started, his voice bringing both of them back to reality, back to the room where people were starting to get up, some of the visitors starting to leave.

Y/N held a hand up, stopping Spencer, her face tense as she closed her eyes and tried not to remember the last time she had heard that from him.

“I don't need your apologies Reid, then or now.” she paused, taking a breath. “I came here to let you know that I was going to be working your case, I wanted to speak to you before anyone else could.”

Spencer nodded, something inside of him changing, his emotions flipped from a minute ago. “Okay,” he said, his voice softer.

It was so much like the one she’d heard years ago, this man in front of her looking so familiar to her all of the sudden.

“Okay,” she replied, trying to keep her voice level.

She could feel herself draining, her ability to keep talking to him leaving her body faster than she had expected. She was going to have to leave soon, before she could do something that she would regret.

“Is there anything you can do?”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her eyes at the question. She was so tired.

She looked up at Spencer, her face indifferent. “It's not looking good,” she stated, her voice exhausted.

Spencer nodded, already aware of that. He knew that there was nothing to do yet, that time was the only thing that would help him.

Y/N could see the shame on his face, the energy deflating out of him, similar to her.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” She clarified, trying not to leave when his hopes were gone, when she didn't have any good news for him. When Spencer didn't do anything but nod, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, continuing to get him to look up at her. “I already promised Emily.”

Spencer laughed, brushing his hair back, shaking his head. “You can't promise something impossible, Y/N.”

It was the first time he had positively used her name, but she tried not to notice that.

“I promise Reid, even if it's impossible.”

Spencer only shook his head some more, all of the sudden looking more exhausted than Y/N had the words to explain.

He’d never told her how he was doing. She’d never asked again. She should-

“Promises too often mean nothing.”

And with those words striking Y/N’s core in the worst way, practically blowing her over, Spencer stood up, motioning to the guard.

Nothing.

*

It was cold that night.

Their heater had broken months ago, but with the hot summer air, neither of them had taken the time to care about it. Why would they when they didn't need it? When the sun was out, and the nights were warm.

But as the days got shorter, and the clouds started swarming outside, the air flickered into something freezing. Something much colder than summer.

Spencer would probably tell her that actually it couldn't be classified as freezing until the temperatures-

She shivered just thinking about it.

He wasn't home yet. They’d had the day off, and when the sun had still been shining they’d gone out to the park, laying together. Y/N laid on Spencer’s chest as he read a book out loud, his voice quiet enough so that just the two of them could hear. But eventually, when the sun started to set, and Spencer had to squint to see the words on the page, Y/N had told him that they should go.

Both of them were sad to see the day pass them by so quickly. It was a bittersweet feeling to know that they’d gotten that time together, for once, and now it was over.

But Spencer had smiled at her, gently moved her off of him, stood up, and took her hand. He'd led her away from the park.

He’d whispered sweet nothings to her as they walked home, reminding her that they didn't have to go to bed just yet.

And so, they were going to have dinner, going to watch a movie together.

But when stumbling upon the nothing that they called their fridge, Y/N had forced Spencer to go get something for them to eat, pushing him out the door as she teased him.

He still wasn't home. And the heater wasn't working.

She shivered under the blanket she was under, trying to figure out how long it had been since he’d left. She knew that it shouldn't be taking him this long. She sighed as she called him again, expecting his voicemail, but still hating it.

It was too cold to be in this apartment alone.

She cursed whatever stupidity had led the two of them to forget about fixing the heater, trying not to let her teeth clatter as she watched the clock tick on the wall.

She was so thankful for this day, these couple of hours she got to spend with Spencer unbothered. They hadn't had enough time to do this lately, too exhausted, too busy, to even think about being in love with each other.

It was wearing on the both of them, that much she could tell. It was hard to sleep in the same bed, too exhausted to cuddle, too drained to say goodnight. It was hard to live next to each other and do the same things every day without taking the time to be together.

They had to start leaving some hours for the two of them.

Because a day like this, one where they could just be together without the exhaustion, the work, days like this were the only thing that kept the two of them together.

They were each other's rock, and they needed to start remembering it.

It was those thoughts she was filled with when she finally heard the door click open, Spencer's voice filling the air as she felt the relief in her chest.

At least she wouldn't be alone in the cold now.

“Sorry, there was such a long line, and I had to-” he paused, his voice drifting off in the air in which he could see his breath. “Oh.”

“You remember when I said we didn't need to get the heater fixed right away!?” Y/N called as she heard him pause, “I was wrong!”

Spencer laughed, deciding against taking his jacket off. “I got the food,” he said as he set it down on the counter, noticing his girlfriend walking over to him. He turned to her, smiling. “And I could’ve told you that.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, a gasp coming out of her mouth. “That was rude,” she exclaimed, trying not to let the smile slip on her face.

Spencer’s eyes widened, his shock matching hers as he thought about what he said. “No I didn't-” he started to say when he finally took a better look at her, noticing the way her jaw was moving, how she was shivering and rubbing her arms. “Are you cold?” he asked, concern clouding his voice.

Y/N nodded. “It's like ten degrees in here,” she whispered, moving over to him.

Spencer immediately took the hint, bringing her into his arms, her cold matching his warmth. Y/N sighed out a breath of relief, happy to be in his arms, to be warm with him again. Her shivers started to fade away, slowly but surely.

“I’m going to get you cold,” she whispered against his chest, the two of them falling into a moment of silence, dancing across their floor without any music. It was blissful, even in the cold. The two of them could feel the warmth, not just in the air, but in their bodies, their minds being flooded with happiness.

“I don't care. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.” Spencer whispered back, rubbing her back as they rocked against their kitchen floor.

“Even holding me until our heater gets fixed?” she asked, her question bringing a laugh to both of them.

“Even that,” Spencer said, holding her tighter.

And later on, when they were both drifting off to sleep after watching three movies, Spencer kissed Y/N’s head. He thought about the amazing day they'd spent together, the smiles that filled their faces. It was a perfect day he'd decided. There was nothing that could beat her laughter.

He held her as close as he could, wrapping her in his warmth.

And he whispered.

“Nothing.”

*

Her emotions were running in a pit of hysteria.

She couldn't really tell what she was feeling, whether it was relief at finally getting out of that prison- literally -or if it was fear at the fact that she had no idea what to do. Her body was swirling with nerves, anger, terror. So many things.

Hysteria.

It was the hysteria of emotions, all of them at once, banging on her ribs, killing her core, aiming for her throat when she wasn't looking.

She wasn't very fond of the feeling.

She tried to push it down with anything, easing her headache with some over the counter medicine, chugging water in hopes that it would drain her system of all the things she didn't want to feel. She sat in her car, trying not to bang her head against the wheel.

She hated this feeling.

And when she finally decided to get out, to head into the office so that she could talk to Emily about everything like she said that she would, her body still wasn't listening to her only request.

Just to feel nothing. Please.

She shook her head as she walked through the doors, cursing herself out, trying to think of anything to say.

But then she was knocked over.

A blur of a person came rushing over to her, crushing her into a hug before she could even see straight, this person holding on to her for dear life.

Penelope.

There was a moment of relief, a moment where Y/N was laughing out, happy to be filled with the nostalgia of seeing one of her friends again. This was a feeling she could deal with. This was a feeling that she could appreciative.

It was so much better than hysteria.

“You’re back!” the blonde announced, pulling back from her crushing hug to look at Y/N. Garica held her head in her hands, turning it so that she could examine Y/N properly.

Y/N was laughing at her, the smile on her face surprising her. The energy that she hadn't been able to come up with, just showing up in her body as she laughed.

“Only for a while,” she said, her face held so that she was looking directly at Penelope, who also had a smile on her face.

“Oh none of that sweetheart, you’re back!” She insisted, hugging Y/N once again, her grip surprisingly comforting.

It was nice to see her friend again after so long, after cutting communication off completely. Before everything, Penelope and Y/N had been good friends, both of them relying on the other like they were solid ground to stand on.

When Y/N left, she sobbed at the thought of letting this beautiful girl go, practically died when she finally had to, but she couldn't have any reminders.

She’d blocked Garcia as soon as she’d left the country.

When Penelope pulled back again, she had a scowl on her face. Her eyes ridiculing. “Why haven't I heard from you? Where did you go?” she scolded, not letting the other girl go as she questioned her.

“I- '' Y/N started, the question surprising her. How would she answer? There was no real explanation, or at least not one she wanted to say. But before she could think, she noticed the other people surrounding the two of them, two unfamiliar men in the center of the crowd, one woman she didn't recognize.

And then there was JJ, and Rossi, and Emily. Three familiar faces. Her old friends. She immediately smiled at them, appreciating their familiar faces, all the changes that she noticed after four years. She hadn't seen them in so long, too long, and it was practically bliss to be in the same room with her work family again.

Emily was the first to step up, moving over to the side of Y/N Penelope wasn't attached to, and putting her hand on her shoulder.

“This is Y/N Y/L/N. She's a former BAU agent. She's here to help with Spencer’s case.” The announcement didn't stop JJ from moving forward, gently moving Garcia away with a push, and giving Y/N a hug of her own.

More comfort came to Y/N at this hug, the familiarity a gentle reminder that she knew these people, that she wasn't a complete stranger in Virginia.

“It's good to see you again,” JJ said, moving back, the smile still on her face. Her eyes bright as she looked at Y/N. Y/N nodded, agreeing with the other girl. It was amazing to see JJ again.

And then there was Rossi, who of course, wasn't going to let Y/N by without a hug of his own.

“Where’ve you been kid?” he greeted, joining the little reunion that was happening between the four of them.

Smiles were stuck on all of their faces, no introductions needed for the people that had spent years working together, side by side, every day.

Y/N had always been a piece of the puzzle, she was loved unconditionally by all the members of the BAU, and when she’d left, a piece had been missing.

They’d all forgotten about that until then, forgotten that they still weren't complete without her.

She’d forgotten too.

“Working.” She laughed, answering Rossi, the warmth filling her belly as she was connected with all of the people she’d known so well. Her eyes felt less exhausted, friendly, like she was so used to them being.

But there wasn't enough time, and eventually, another man stood up.

“I’m Stephen Walker,” he introduced himself, giving a well-practiced firm handshake. He smiled at her politely.

“Lovely to meet you,” she returned, matching his smile as he stood back.

The woman stepped up next, her smile more friendly than polite, much different from Stephens. Her demeanor was careful, her body trying to be as welcoming as she could.

“I’m Dr. Tara Lewis,” she said, also offering Y/N a handshake.

Y/N didn't feel as nervous meeting her, Dr. Lewis’ welcoming smile made her feel safe, not as worried. She didn't feel like a stranger with Tara. More like old friends. It was a strange feeling. One she wasn't used to.

They smiled at each other as Tara stepped back.

Then the last man stepped forward, confident, his smile also welcoming but playful. His eyes weren't as reserved as his colleagues, Y/N wasn't nervous about him, already getting the hint that they could be good friends.

“I’m Luke Alvez-”

“Newbie.” Garica interrupted, whispering in Y/N’s ear. She looked over to the girl, who was giving Luke a blank look, one that was trying to be oblivious.

“Newbie?” Y/N asked, her brows furrowed as she kept the smile on her face, she looked between Penelope and Luke. Luke just shook his head at her question, rubbing his neck as he looked down.

Garcia just rolled her eyes.

Y/N would have to ask about that later, she noted.

“How was Spencer, Y/N? Emily said you went to see him this morning.” JJ questioned just as Y/N had expected she would.

And suddenly, introductions were over, and Y/N was reminded of all the things she had forgotten because of that hug.

All the feelings she had. All the feelings she didn't want.

Spencer was in prison, he was not hopeful, Y/N didn't know what to do. She promised.

Y/N sighed, rubbing a hand over her face, not noticing the concerned faces at her actions. All of his friends were worried, not expecting good news based on her reaction. Her incredibly pulled back reaction.

“He’s fine, I suppose. Tired I’d imagine.” Y/N explained, trying to remember anything that she could say to ease their worries. “He’s accepted my help. But I don't think he's very hopeful.” she continued, a bittersweet smile on her face. She wanted to be positive, but she couldn't, she couldn't provide anything to anyone in this room when all she wanted to do was scream.

“Well, that's good right?” Penelope asked, her eyes innocent, her voice displaying the tiniest hint of hope. “He's accepting help.”

Emily nodded, glad that there was something they could all lean back on, but Y/N just sighed some more, depleted.

First, there was that conversation with Spencer. That horrid, factious, conversation. And now, she had to tell all of his friends, all of her old friends, all the people she was going to be working with that he wasn't doing well. She didn't want to tell them that he’d only barely accepted her help, that he was ready to send her away.

“Y/N’s only been here for two days, give her some more time and we’ll figure something out.” Emily entrusted, a tense smile on her face. Y/N could tell that she was trying to be positive, she imagined that everyone else knew that too.

The room was full of profilers after all. A bunch of people that could tell when you were lying.

“If you don't mind me asking, what can you do for Spencer? How are you going to help him?” Tara inquired, her tone kind, but Y/N could sense the uncertainty. Like she wasn't sure if Y/N was really going to be able to do anything.

Y/N blew a breath out before answering. “I’m a lawyer, it's how I got into the BAU.” She smiled at the squeeze she felt on her shoulder from Garica. Appreciating the faith. “I know my way around the law, and believe it or not, I used to be a fairly good profiler.”

Penelope gasped, looking to the rest of them. “She was amazing! Without her, half of the BAU’s cases wouldn't have been solved, she and Spencer used to be the ‘dream team��.”

Y/N felt her body tense up at the reminder, hating herself for still feeling that sore spot right in her heart, she hated that even now, she still couldn't handle the little things.

Penelope definitely noticed, her smile dropping at her mistake, her voice picking up its pace to fix the memory she had just brought up.

But Y/N let out a laugh before her friend could apologize, not wanting apologies for something that she should be used to by now. Something that she needed to get over.

She put an arm around Penelope, letting her know that it was okay. That she wasn't mad.

“Emily called me,” she sucked in a breath, her body easing. “Because I know how to work a case, and I have lots of connections that might be a good use to Reid.”

All of them seemed satisfied with her answer, the people she’d just met understanding more now, their confusion about who she was, gone.

“Oh, and I owe her a favor,” Y/N concluded, allowing her voice to become teasing, looking over to Emily and grinning.

She let her emotions become clouded by the conversation that continued, not wanting to feel that same hysteria from earlier.

The hysteria that she was worried would take her over. That would drive her away despite her promises.

She couldn't leave. She had to help.

She was glad for this indifferent feeling she felt. Anything to keep that hysteria away, was okay with her.

She looked around, the warmth she got from all those hugs being just enough to keep her awake.

She was so tired. And she had so much work to do.

A promise to keep.

“Promises too often mean nothing.”

Nothing.

*

[dweetwise]

day 18: panic attacks

prompt from: whumptober pairing: felix x ace notes: fluffy angst, idk if this even qualifies as whump but it’s what i went with <3 warnings: panic attack descriptions word count: 1920

Ace is having a rather good day, all things considered. He finishes his second generator of the trial while Feng is still doing a phenomenal job at being chased by the killer, and he even has time to stop and search a chest in good conscience.

He picks up a broken key with a worn brass token, which isn’t ideal but he’ll add it to his ever growing pile of junk back at camp anyway.

In the time it takes him to find a generator, the Nurse has finally managed to down and hook Feng, but someone saves her right after and the chase beings anew. Ace would guess the rescuer was David and that he used borrowed time to make sure the gamer made it out, since he can’t see Felix being stupid bold enough to unhook in the killer’s face like that.

With the Nurse’s distant screeches providing some pleasant background noise—considering it’s not Ace she’s chasing—he gets to work on a nearly completed generator by one of the exits. If he finishes it before the killer comes to check, it marks their fourth completed objective of the trial, and it looks like they’ll have an easy escape provided she doesn’t have the obnoxious totem perk to ensure an instant down after the gates are powered.

At first, Ace doesn’t question why someone would have abandoned the nearly completed machine, but just before he connects the last two wires, he hesitates. Will this be the last generator on this side of the map? Maybe someone wanted to leave it because it’s by an exit?

He gets up to look around a bit, trying to spot any other nearby generators, but then he hears it.

A sob.

Ace frowns in worry and keeps looking around, not seeing any signs of life. Did he imagine it? Feng is the only one injured, and her moans of pain can be heard from halfway across the map. The girl is a lot of things, but quiet sure as hell isn’t one of them.

He remembers the key in his pocket, a normally useless item with an underwhelming add-on that will allow him to see his nearby teammates for only a couple of seconds. But right now, it’s exactly what he needs, and as he channels the item, he eventually makes out a human form cowering in the corner next to the exit gate.

The key’s power dies out but Ace doesn’t care, carefully approaching his distressed teammate.

He should have guessed who he’s going to find just by basic deduction, as Feng is still keeping the Nurse busy somewhere in the Asylum and David is one to push forward through sheer stubbornness. It still takes him by surprise to notice Felix, normally so calm and collected, huddled in on himself with his knees drawn close to his chest and his head buried in his hands.

Ace suddenly feels very out of place, and he realizes he could just slowly back away and Felix probably wouldn’t even know he was ever there.

But Felix doesn’t seem to be just taking a mental break from the trial, he looks to be struggling. His entire body is trembling and he’s taking sharp, wheezy breaths, bordering on hyperventilating.

And Ace might not be the best at offering comfort, but he sure as hell is going to try.

“Hey,” he offers softly as not to spook Felix, but from the way Felix’s head snaps up in surprise, he’s not successful. Shit, he’s never seen the guy so upset, looking utterly broken with tears and snot running down his face and taking short, shaky breaths. It make’s Ace’s cold, selfish heart clench in sympathy and he slowly kneels down on Felix’s level, far enough away to hopefully not feel like he’s cornering him. “How you holding up?”

That’s probably the dumbest thing he could have asked, but at least it makes Felix react, quickly wiping at his face and averting his eyes.

“F-fine, sorry—” Felix starts, but then his trembling voice breaks on another sob and he hides his face behind his hand in shame as another wave of what Ace assumes to be a panic attack hits.

Ace has never been good at dealing with emotions, his or others’, but he’s learned a lot after being swept up by the Entity and trying to keep everyone in their little group happy and healthy. He knows that Dwight needs to be held when his anxiety surfaces, and although that position is usually reserved for Jake, Ace has been the body for Dwight to cling to on a few occasions when others were unavailable. On the other hand, when something triggers Quentin’s PTSD, the boy wants nothing more than to be left alone, and even the smallest touch will send him spiraling deeper into his own head.

“It’s alright,” Ace says, trying to keep his voice calm and even offering an encouraging smile. “We’ve all been there.”

That seems to calm Felix down some, so Ace optimistically deduces that maybe his presence does help after all.

This is a vastly different situation from Dwight or Quentin, though. Where Ace mostly sees himself as a somewhat shitty parental figure to the boys, he’s been openly flirting with Felix ever since the other got here. And despite Felix sometimes awkwardly flirting back, he fully expected their relationship to stay at the casual friendship level.

But this is huge step, and if Ace manages to comfort him without hiding behind shitty jokes and Felix allows himself to be vulnerable, maybe that’s a sign they could eventually be something more.

“Just say the word and I’ll be on my way,” Ace starts. “But I also have a pretty good shoulder to lean on, if that’s something you think might help.”

Felix glances at him and Ace tries to keep the smile on his face despite his own nerves surfacing and mixing with the worry for Felix already there.

“Are you sure?” Felix asks, voice nowhere near steady but at least being able to form a complete sentence.

“Of course!” Ace reassures without even knowing which option Felix is referring to.

And then Felix looks back at the ground and curls in on himself further and Ace tries not to be disappointed. He’s already moving to get up, an apology ready on his tongue, when Felix shuffles along the exit gate wall to make room for Ace to join him.

The grin that forms on his face might not be the most appropriate considering the circumstances, but Felix doesn’t protest, in fact he immediately buries his face against Ace’s shoulder and clasps his arm in a death grip as soon as he takes a seat next to him.

Felix takes shallow breaths against him and Ace doesn’t care that his shirt is getting stained with wet tears and snot, suddenly hit with how intimate the entire situation is. His own nerves resurface and his free hand hovers awkwardly in the air, not sure if it’s appropriate to touch the distressed man.

But in the end, he’s a gambler, and so he gambles, placing a hesitant hand in Felix’s hair as he remembers the other is usually messing with it when he’s nervous.

When the only reaction he gets is Felix gripping his arm tighter, he carefully starts running his hand through the locks, slightly disheveled from where Felix has no doubt been doing the same.

“It’s okay,” Ace says, trying to keep his voice steady and hoping Felix can’t hear his heart hammering in his chest. “You’re okay.”

“I’m going to get crows,” Felix chokes out through the tears.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ace reassures, discreetly looking up to try to spot the birds that should already be circling above Felix’s head. “Feng and David are keeping her busy. She’s got no reason to come here.”

Ace frowns as he realizes can neither see nor hear the Entity’s spies, despite knowing their captor’s rules clearly state the birds should be giving away their location by now.

The key sits heavy in his pocket and he suddenly realizes maybe the Entity wanted him to find Felix. Regardless of how Ace feels about the otherworldly being, he knows it’s not satisfied unless the trial has been what it considers “fair”. Maybe it’s giving them a time-out until Felix is in shape to continue, and maybe that’s why Feng still hasn’t been caught, despite being injured against one of the strongest killers.

“Seems like the crows are on their lunch break,” Ace voices his observation in hopes of reassuring Felix. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Not surprisingly, the knowledge that he’s not on a time limit seems to calm Felix down some, and the grip on Ace’s arm loosens as the sharp breaths slowly turn into more deliberate ones.

“That’s it, deep breaths,” Ace murmurs and keeps petting Felix’s hair since it seems to be working, or at least not making the situation worse. “You’re going to be fine.”

He has no idea how long they sit there together, with Felix slowly coming back to himself and Ace offering generic encouraging sentiments he hopes are somewhat helpful, lost in their own little bubble while the trial carries on without them.

When Felix eventually pulls away, Ace feels disappointed, even if he finally gets some much needed blood flow to his arm that has fallen asleep a while ago.

“Fuck,” Felix sighs and leans his head back against the tiled wall with a dull ‘thud’. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not,” Ace offers with a small grin. “But I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I didn’t expect one in the middle of a trial,” Felix says, letting Ace is on the fact that this wasn’t a one-off. “Thank you. You, um, helped. A lot,” Felix says bashfully, and Ace has to resist the urge to pull him back into his arms.

“Don’t mention it,” he says instead, and when Felix just gives him an adorable, tiny smile, can’t resist adding a cheeky “There’s a lot worse ways to spend a trial”.

“I’d say being a liability and making a complete fool of myself isn’t something I’m eager to repeat,” Felix mutters, but he’s still smiling, so Ace hopes he’s not still embarrassed.

“Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t make the situation worse,” Ace jokes. “Or that my brain didn’t implode on itself from not making jokes or flirting for five minutes.”

“You were perfect,” Felix says so earnestly it takes Ace completely off guard, and he’s not blushing he’s just suddenly really warm okay— “I should get back to my generator,” Felix seems to remember, looking over Ace’s shoulder in the direction of the machine. “I’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time for today.”

“If there’s anything we have plenty of, it’s time,” Ace reassures, pushing himself off of the wall and ready to join the trial.

He offers a hand to help Felix up, and it makes him smile when Felix only hesitates for a split second before accepting the gesture.

“You know, we should do this more often,” Ace says with a grin as he pulls Felix up on his feet. “I mean, preferably without the panicking. I didn’t mind but it didn’t exactly look like you were having the time of your life.”

Felix huffs out a small laugh at the statement, and then he squeezes Ace’s hand that’s still clasped in his.

“I’d like that.”

[deliasbabe]

Because I Could Never Hold a Perfect Thing & Not Demolish It- Venable x Reader

A fight  at your apartment forces Venable to reveal her true feelings about you, whether she wants to or not. Based on the song “Forever...(is a long time) by Halsey.

Words: 3,676

Warnings: Strong Language, Implied Sexual Content

When you heard a knock on the door one early Sunday morning, you almost didn’t answer. You weren’t expecting anyone, and considering you were only wearing an oversized white t-shirt, you weren’t exactly dressed for company. But something told you that you knew who was on the other side of that door. After all, you had turned down Venable’s request for your presence at her house Friday night, and ignored her numerous phone calls the next day. It wasn’t like it was unwarranted, she had spent the majority of the work day berating you, even going so far as to call you “daft” and “a waste of space”. What you two had wasn’t exactly serious, but it wasn’t casual either, and you had spent many nights trying to figure out exactly what this was. It wasn’t unlike your lover to borderline abuse her staff, but up until that point, you had been the exception, mostly because she knew there was no way in hell you would stand for it. At least, you thought she knew that, but her actions that day very much said otherwise.

It wasn’t like you didn’t expect her to show up. You had learned very quickly that a request from Wilhelmina wasn’t actually a request, more like a not-so-polite demand, and you refused her, of course she would show up to set you straight. But avoiding your boss had given you a strength you didn’t know you needed, the upper hand in a situation where it seemed like saying yes was the only acceptable option. You could face her, tell her off, and send her on her way. You could do this, and with a gust of courage, you opened the door.

Venable, as cold as ever, didn’t even bother with a proper greeting before she stepped into your apartment, her heels clicking along the wooden floor as she took a regal stance in your kitchen, like she had the right to do with your home as she saw fit, and you rolled your eyes as you shut the door. She always was far too arrogant, but you did have to admire her confidence. Still, her impoliteness didn’t make you falter, if anything it fueled you.

There was an eerie silence as you walked toward her, firmly planting your feet in front of your counter. This was your home after all, she wasn’t going to get the high ground. She flicked her steely gaze over you briefly, before deciding she couldn’t even be bothered to look at you, her face impassive as she set her sights just over your shoulder, as if you were beneath her. “You haven’t been returning my calls.” She stated flatly, like you were total strangers, like you hadn’t spent countless nights in her bed, in her home.

“I know.” You responded coldly, her eyes quickly darting to you and boring into your brain, outraged that you would dare challenge her.

“Care to tell me the reason?” Venable spit out between gritted teeth, and you wondered how she was able to look so angry yet keep her tone so emotionless, a black void threatening to swallow you whole. You had played her games long enough to know she was waiting for you to buckle, but you wouldn’t, not today, and you clenched your jaw as your stared her down, openly defying her seemingly endless willpower.

“I really don’t think I should have to explain it to you.” You spit in the most condescending tone you could muster. You wouldn’t fall, not today, not ever again.

Her face was hard as stone, a concrete wall, but you could see in her eyes that she faltered, just a bit, and it gave you a sick sense of victory. “Y/n,” Venable bit, “Let’s not be childish.”

“This isn’t me being childish. This is me being pissed off.” You fired back, silently cursing yourself for letting your cool demeanor slip. You were supposed to be short, calculated, cruel, just like her. But you weren’t like her, not one bit. Still, this seemed to grab her attention, and she raised her eyebrows, silently demanding an explanation, like she didn’t have the slightest idea as to why you were upset. You shook your head dismissively, “You know what? Whatever this is that we’re doing? It’s done. I’ll hand in my resignation tomorrow.”

There it was, that sickening smirk your lover always gave when she got a rise out of someone, almost as if hurting you was a victory in itself, “Don’t you think you’re being a little rash?”

You scoffed, “No. Believe me, this is a long time coming.”

Your boss took a moment to right herself, like she was talking to a petulant child, “I don’t accept your resignation. You are a valuable assistant.”

“I thought I was daft and a waste of space?” You bit, watching her physically recoil, but only slightly, “And you really don’t get to call the shots on this one.”

Venable gave a condescending laugh as she leaned forward on her cane, “You can’t expect me to give you special treatment.”

“I’m not asking for special treatment, Wilhelmina. I’m just asking to be treated like a human being.” You vented, hoping just once, just this once, that she would see her horrendous ways, that she would see reason.

But still, your attempt was futile, you could see it in her face, “I treat you the same way I treat any other employee.”

“And you don’t think there’s something wrong with that?” You bit, beyond frustrated, “You can’t expect me to be treated like shit and then hop in your bed at your beck and call.”

Venable let out an amused, breathy laugh, “You think I’m using you for sex?”

You dropped your shoulders, utterly defeated. It just wasn’t worth it, and you hated yourself for thinking it would be any different. She was stubborn, an impenetrable force. You couldn’t change that. Still, you mustered up the strength to finish, “I don’t know what you are doing, but I’m not doing it anymore. If I wanted a hookup I wouldn’t do it with someone I work with, and certainly not someone who doesn’t appreciate me in the slightest.”

Again, she smirked, “You think I don’t appreciate you?” Just like that, you were done, rolling your eyes and moving towards the door, only for your soon-to-be ex to bang her cane on the floor, “Y/n! Talk to me.”

You whipped around and stomped back to your previous position, utterly pissed off. “Why should I?” You yelled, suddenly not caring about how emotional you seemed, “You never talk to me! You say we’re exclusive, but you won’t tell anyone about us! All we ever do is fuck and I’m sick of everything being on your terms! I’m not spending the next few years being in a one-sided relationship! I’m done trying to earn your approval. I’m just…done.” You broke your gaze, feeling completely drained, like all your life force was just sucked out of you. You didn’t have it in you to fight for her, to make her see you. You just couldn’t do it anymore.

“What makes you think you haven’t already gotten my approval?” Venable asked, calm as ever, acting as if you didn’t just emotionally implode all over her expensive purple suit.

You let out a scoff, not even bothering to look her in the eye, “Because no one will ever be good enough for you, and certainly not me.”

You didn’t look at her, waiting for whatever insult she had decided to throw your way, but all you heard was silence. You weren’t used to silence, not from her, and you glanced up to make sure she actually heard you, only to see tears in your lover’s eyes, and your heart dropped. Your boss was always stoic, so much so that you wondered if she was psychopathic. She always was this force, and you sure as shit had never seen her even come close to shedding a tear, and it took the fight right out of you, your stomach twisting into knots.

“Is that really what you think of me?” Venable said, shifting her gaze to the floor and praying you didn’t hear her voice waiver, but you did, and suddenly you weren’t sure exactly who you were dealing with.

You softened, but only slightly, “I don’t know what to think, Mina. I’ve tried, but I can’t figure you out. It’s like you are a completely different person with me than you are at work, and they don’t line up.” You waited for her to speak, but she didn’t, so you continued, “I get that you can’t be the same at work with me because you, for whatever reason, don’t want anyone to know about us. You’re ashamed or… whatever, and I get it, I do. But this game we’re playing? I just can’t play it anymore.”

That got the woman’s attention, and you quickly glanced away from her. As she started to move toward you, you ducked your head in response, preparing for her to be angry with you, but she gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look into her soft brown eyes. “I’m not ashamed of you, little one.” Mina said carefully, “Not one bit, and I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m proud of you, so, so proud.” You looked utterly confused, and it pained the woman, because she knew it was all her doing. Hearing her praise is the very last thing you expected, and she hated herself for doing this to you.

Wilhelmina Venable had never been very good at expressing her feelings. She hated feeling vulnerable, but somehow you managed to slip past her iron gates, worming your way into her heart and cracking her wide open. She had never been in love before, truthfully she thought it didn’t actually exist, but there you were, and suddenly her world started spinning a little faster, too fast for her to keep up, to stay ahead, and that scared her. So, she did what she did best, she shut down, and she pushed. She pushed and pushed until she broke you, and she understood why you wanted to leave, but she couldn’t forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to put you back together again.

Still, this was uncomfortable for her, uncharted territory, and she hesitantly took a step back, “The reason I…” She began calmly, before you watched her face contort as she choked on her words, not even able to repeat the atrocities she had carelessly fired your way previously. The woman cleared her throat awkwardly, ducking her head, “Jeff and Mutt, they noticed that I wasn’t as harsh with you as I was with the others. They suspected I was interested in you, romantically interested.”

You sat silent for a moment, analyzing her words as you leaned back on the counter, raising your leg and bracing your foot on the cupboards as you crossed your arms. The gesture was innocent, but it was enough to make the woman’s head spin, desperately trying to not give into her own selfish desires and averting her focus from how good you looked. “And you aren’t?” You asked, slightly defensive, reading between the lines and coming to the conclusion that she really was just in this to fuck.

Venable tried to focus, tried to formulate an answer that didn’t include how delicious your exposed thigh looked, but she couldn’t, and she bit her lip. You took her silence as a yes, after all, what else could it mean? “Ok.” You said with a sadistic laugh, moving to show the woman out, “I guess it’s settled then.”

“Y/n, wait!” Venable yelled, lurching toward you and throwing herself off balance, barely catching herself on your arm. The shock was clear on your features, and before she could get too much inside her head about it, she blurted, “I am interested.” Your gaze was unwavering, unnerving, so she hesitantly continued, “Very Interested. I just… I didn’t want them to know.”

You stare at her for a few moments, desperately wishing you could fish inside her brain and find some sort of clarity. She looked so scared, her hand grasping yours tightly, but you weren’t sure if it was because she almost fell or something more, “Would it be such a bad thing if they knew?”

Venable shook her head, but her words didn’t match. “Yes…no… I don’t know.” She fumbled, “I’m not very good at this.”

You furrowed your brow, “Good at what?”

You had never seen your ever-confident boss so unsure of herself, “Talking about… this.”

You paused, trying to figure out exactly what she was getting at, but then it dawned on you, “Talking about your feelings?”

Your lover quickly glanced at the floor, nodding slightly, and you nodded in return. This, you could work with. You let out a sigh, drawing her attention back to you, “Why don’t you sit? I can make us some tea?”

That gave the woman a moment to compose herself, and she silently thanked you for not making this any more painful than it had to be, “Tea would be lovely.”

You gestured toward the couch, and Venable moved to take a seat, studying your apartment as you worked. It was the first time she had been in there, and as she looked around she noticed just how much it fit you. It was a little messy, just like you were, a mishmash of flea market finds and old furniture, but something about it felt cozy, warm, and she couldn’t stop herself from running her finger along the soft flannel blanket you had strewn over the loveseat. That was a fitting word, loveseat, because in your apartment, staring at you as you silently moved around the kitchen, Venable was finding it incredibly hard to deny that she was hopelessly in love with you, and that terrified her.

“You have a lovely home.” Venable said politely, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling she got when you bit your lip and threw her a smirk.

“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t exactly expecting company.” You teased, meeting the woman’s gaze.

“It’s quaint.” Your lover said quietly, and you were so focused on making the tea, you didn’t even bother to look up as you laughed.

“That’s a nice way of saying tiny and cluttered.” You joked, not noticing your girlfriend studying you like you were her favorite piece of art, and boy, did you look heavenly with your nimble movements and messy bun, barely held together by a set of chopsticks. You hated having your hair in your face, that was the first thing Venable noticed about you. Every morning, you would come into work with your long hair down, and by the end of every night, it was being held back by pens. You never could get it to all stay back, however, and the few wispy strands always framed your face in a way that could only be described as angelic.

You finally finished your task of making tea, glancing up only to catch the woman staring, and you threw her a lopsided, soft smile that made her so dizzy she had to look away. It was just too perfect, you were perfect, and she didn’t deserve perfect things.

You handed her a warm mug, and she quietly thanked you as you sat on the couch, leaning back on the arm and tucking your legs beneath you as you sank into the cushion. It was strange to see you so comfortable, but then again, this was your house, and this time it was Venable who felt out of her depth, making sure to sit as straight as she possibly could as she murmured out a thank you for the tea. She sipped it tentatively, but was pleasantly surprised to find that you had made it exactly to her tastes, sickeningly sweet, despite it not being her usual order that you brought her every morning. It made her insides warm, realizing just how well you knew her, how much you paid attention, and she couldn’t help but look at you in admiration.

“What?” You asked after noticing her staring, throwing her a smirk.

Mina tried to pry her eyes away from your form, tried to look anywhere else, but she couldn’t, and she found herself speaking before she could even formulate a coherent thought, “Nothing. You’re…uh, you’re just so… beautiful.” And boy, Wilhelmina didn’t think she could possibly love anything more than the way your cheeks blushed as you were caught off guard.

“Well, thank you. But I should let you know that flattery won’t get you out of this conversation.” You joked, watching her gaze fall as she nodded. “Mina?” You asked softly, waiting for her to bring her eyes back to yours, studying her delicate features for a moment, “Why don’t you want anyone to know?”

Out of reflex, Venable snapped, “Because I prefer to keep my private life, private.” It wasn’t the answer you were looking for, and she knew it, but you didn’t push like she was expecting. You just sipped your tea, patiently waiting for her to gather herself and give you a real answer, and she hated it. She hated the silence, and she hated how gentle you were being with her, like she was something soft, breakable, but then again, maybe she was. “I didn’t want them to ruin it.” She finally spits out after a moment, the truth leaving a bitter taste on her tongue.

“How would they ruin it?” You asked softly, causing her to scoff. But once again, you waited, and she wished you would just pry the answer out of her like so many before had tried to do. At least then she would have a reason to be hostile.

Venable clenched her jaw, “Because right now it’s just us, and I like just us. I want it to stay just us.” It wasn’t exactly a coherent response, but you knew immediately what she meant, because you felt it as well. You two had somehow managed to create your own little world together, except you didn’t mind sharing it.

“Even if they know, it can still stay just us.” You offered, getting another scoff in return.

“That’s not how Jeff and Mutt operate.” Venable bit, expecting your gaze to harden, but it still was just as soft.

“But it’s how I do.” You said confidently, “They can tease us as much as their little coked out heart’s desire. It’s not going to change how I feel about you, nothing will.” You watched your lover’s eyes go wide as she glanced away, panicked, and you tried to soothe her, “Hey, look at me.” You said gently as you cupped her chin, “I’m not trying to overwhelm you. We can slow things down if you want.”

“I don’t want to.” Venable said quickly, and you cocked your head to the side.

“Then what is it?” You asked, giving her a reassuring smile. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t really need to, you already knew. You knew how she felt about you, you had known for a while, she just couldn’t say it, and you got it, you really did. So you left it alone, at least for the time being, and changed the subject, “Stay with me today, here. We can order take out, or I can cook if you want. Just us.”

Venable looked at you doubtfully, but there was a glint of adoration in her eye, “You can cook?”

“I’ll try for you. No promises that it will be edible, though.” You joked, throwing her that lopsided smile that made her absolutely melt, and she couldn’t help but offer a small smile and nod back at you. You grinned, jumping off the couch and grabbing the now empty mug in her hand, “More tea?” She gave another nod, and you quickly pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose before disappearing back into your kitchen.

You spent the day drinking tea and watching terrible movies, ordering Chinese for dinner and eating it out of the paper cartons with chopsticks. You even managed to find a pair of purple pajamas for Mina to change into so that she was more comfortable. “I’ll put the food away. Do you want some wine?” You asked, grabbing the cartons from the coffee table and pressing a kiss to the woman’s forehead, smiling when she nodded.

You danced around the kitchen with light steps as she watched, and as you poured the wine she felt like if she held it in any longer she would burst. “Y/n?” She asked, you humming in response, not taking your eyes off the glasses you were filling, “I love you.”

You glanced up at your girlfriend with a small smile on your lips, grabbing the now full glasses and making your way to her, softly planting your lips on hers. “I love you, too.” You said once you broke apart, handing her the glass as you got a teasing look on your face.

“What?” She asked carefully, thinking there was something she was missing.

“Nothing.” You said, still smirking as your voice dropped, “You know, you still haven’t seen all of my apartment.”

Mina furrowed her brow, “You just poured wine.”

You gave her a shrug, “I don’t have any pets. We can leave it.”

“Or we can wait.” Venable said, still not catching onto the suggestive undertones. That was until you pulled off your shirt, leaving you in a black lingerie set that made the woman’s mouth water.

“Or we cannot.” You said, motioning her forward with your index finger as you stepped back towards your bedroom, laughing when your lover shook her head in mock disapproval. You had her wrapped around your finger and you knew it, and it was only confirmed as she followed behind you the very second you disappeared from her view. Boy, was she smitten for you.

[welcome-to-the-petting-zoo]

Hey guys! I was wondering if any of you could offer me some tips on calming yourself down or lessening stress? Because of my contamination fears and the fact that I live in the U.S. everything has been piling up. My family doesn’t rlly take me or anything seriously either. So I’ve been falling into fits of “I’m not going to be able to leave the house in years, what’s the point in being here” and general other bad thoughts so I wonder if anything you known could help calm me down? Thanks!

Hey there Anon,

TP here. I'm so sorry you're struggling like this, and especially that your family can't/won't provide you with the support you need.

I'm going to try to collect some general advice and some healthy coping techniques, maybe you can find something here that can relieve your stress. I don't know enough about your lifestyle, specific issues and circumstances to tailor the list to your needs too much, but I'll try to bring up some varied points so maybe there is something you'll find useful.

There are things you can do in the moment to relieve stress and then there are things that are more preventive or work over a longer period, I'll try to cover both categories.

Let's start with in the moment relief:

Grounding. The same way grounding techniques can help with dissociative symptoms, they are also a great tool for stress relief. If you can take a moment to collect yourself, it can help you avoid blowing up or imploding into a depressive mess. There are great breathing exercises geared towards stress relief, but you can also do some physical practices, like putting your hands together in front of you like you were praying, and pressing your palms together as hard as you can, for as long as you can. This will release the physical tension in your body and with that, some of the emotional charge will dissipate too.

Depending on whether your stress manifests as anger, you can also do anger relief exercises, such as trying to rip a piece of cardboard in as many pieces as you can, or, my personal favourite, taking an old pair of sneakers and throwing them against the ground or an outdoor wall, because that won't harm either the wall or the shoes, and it's loads better than turning that anger on yourself or another person. Of course if you can manage your anger without having to act on it, all the better, but if you feel like you're about to explode, blowing off the steam in a non-dangerous way that still allows you to express your destructive urges can work.

This is extreme, but if you have the environment (e.g. you can go to a place away from humanity), you can even try to just scream as loudly as you can. I've never tried this method, but some people swear by it.

Remove yourself from the situation/environment. I know it can be super hard during the pandemic, but if you have the chance, just taking a walk, especially if you can go somewhere devoid of people in nature, is one of the best ways to clear your head and give yourself the space you need to calm down. What I often do is, I get on my bike and take a long ride on some abandoned back roads, which of course is a very special privilege most people don't have, but if you can carve out a little space for yourself somewhere, that can do wonders.

If you can't leave the house because of your fear of contamination or any other reason, I would advise you put on a pair of headphones, if you have noise cancelling ones, those are the best, but basically any pair will do, lie down on your bed and listen to music or nature sounds for a while. I live listening to the sea, or forest noises. There are several free apps you can download that let you create your own sound scapes from different sound elements, so you can tailor your experience to your specific tastes. If lying still is too hard or distracting, you can also try pacing while listening, just make sure you keep to a slow and steady stroll so you won't end up accidentally winding yourself up even more.

You can try doing some yoga, workout or sport. There are a lot of exercises you can also do indoors and generally, moving your body is a wonderful thing, it relieves stress, releases some happy chemicals and tires you out so you won't feel anxious anymore. Basically how this works is, emotions have physical "symptoms" and they work both ways. If you're experiencing the bodily sensation, you'll get the emotion as well, which also means, if you can stop the physical symptom, the emotion will go away too. For example, if you make yourself smile even though you're in a bad mood, you'll soon start feeling better, or the thing when people get anxious or angry because they are hungry and they can feel a knot in their stomach... It works just like that with anxiety/stress as well, if you can relieve the tension from your body, you'll also feel less stressed.

You can try stim toys or other equipment that's geared towards people with sensory integration issues. These tools were developed for people who get easily overwhelmed, so they are extremely efficient for relieving stress. There are tons of different kinds, so you can experiment with what feels right for you. Maybe it's a squishy toy, maybe a weighted blanket, or something you can bite into or a logic puzzle to stimulate your brain. As I said, there are loads of resources out there, and I'm positive there is something you could benefit from, and well, these tools are there for anybody who needs them, so feel free to experiment with them!

Okay, so let's take a look at the longer term things.

Meditation is one of the most awesome things ever. If you're not into spirituality, or if you think it's bullshit, rest assured, that's where I came from too... Until I've tried it. It helped me so much with my insomnia and other stress related issues, and well, it's not like I'm suddenly a hardcore Buddhist or something (not that there is anything wrong with that either, meditation and spirituality/any religion can absolutely go hand in hand), because in the end I like being my weird pragmatic self, but even so, meditation is something I love doing, it gives me peace and teaches me how to relax and come closer to understanding what my body needs and how to pay attention to it. There are also very cool resources for that, both apps and podcasts/YouTube channels that have guided meditation materials or that teach you different techniques.

If you have the spoons, please, do exercise! It is so damn helpful and important, but I also know it's something that can be super hard and I also struggle with it a lot, but whenever I actually manage to move around just for a few minutes, I feel so accomplished and so well physically and mentally.

Try to express your emotions in different ways. Create awesome vent art (your skill level doesn't matter, you can literally be scribbling on a piece of paper, or squishing a block of clay into a shapeless lump, it's not about artistic quality)! Experiment with different media and techniques, write, draw, sculpt, make collages out of magazine cuttings, press flowers, knit emotional sweaters, whatever your preferred method is, creating is a truly healing experience. It allows you to collect your thoughts and emotions and express them in a way that engages your brain in a different way than just thinking about it does, and it turns the negative emotions into positive experiences of creation and relaxation.

Ask someone to give you a massage. Again, back to the whole body and mind influence each other thing, not to mention that massages feel awesome and if it's a friend or loved one giving it, it also creates intimacy and a shared good moment which in and of itself can help a lot.

Talk about it! Seriously, fuck those people who tell you it's somehow wrong to talk about your issues or that you're being a burden. YOU'RE NOT! If you're in distress or you just feel like you need a talk, just do it! If you have noone to talk to, just get back to me, I'll be happy to listen if that means you're feeling better. There will ALWAYS be people who would happily listen to your venting if that would make you feel relief.

Finally, if this is something that's an option for you, consider talking to a therapist or your healthcare provider. They might be able to point you in the direction of some resources or talk about the possibility of temporary medicinal treatment until the pandemic blows over.

I hope this helps a little bit, and of course, if you have any follow-up questions, I'll be happy to elaborate on any of the points. I'm sorry for not including specific links or resources, but I'm a disabled weirdo and right now typing this out is all I have in me. But if you can't find something, or would like specific recommendations, get back to me and I'll look into the specifics for you.

Best of luck,

TP

[cloudbatcave]

Cloud Plays White: Finale

This is a long one, folks, since I realized I had a bit in my notes I had forgotten about and only found after I posted this, lol, so I have now edited it in.

when we last left off I was criticizing Alder for being useless in apprehending Ghetsis and Iris for not just taking me to Drayden’s house herself when it is Right Fucking There. 

So I’m still futzing around Opelucid here.

“No way, without pokemon, I’ll be lonely and sad! …but am I just using my pokemon, then?”

wow, seems there’s some brain cells there after all. you keep exercising those, brah.

I run into a guy who thinks that it’s okay for team plasma to take pokemon from weak trainers, even though he considers himself one and feels bad for the people they rob.

There’s another dude in the same room who used to be part of team plasma but left because it was weird for him that everyone thought the same way.

See, I appreciate this part of the game’s writing - I wish there was more stuff like this, people who are conflicted and their viewpoints being front and center instead of the simplistic garbage we’re fed by Iris and Alder and company.

Though there’s an absolute nut job who says that despite the years he’s trained with his pokemon he’ll let it go if it makes it a perfect being and I am just not even gonna unpack all the lunacy there.

There’s a kid who thinks that just because N has the legendary pokemon, he must be the hero.

I am very concerned about everyone in Unova being so gullible.

“Your Scrafty looks like it can try a little harder.”

WELL FUCK YOU TOO RANDOM LADY??? LAD DOES HIS BEST AND I WILL NOT HAVE HIM SLANDERED THIS WAY

I finally go to Drayden’s and get told how the original dragon performed mitosis and now we have two dragons and also they once destroyed the region with fire and lightning but it’s chill.

“People may hurt pokemon even more by imposing their selfish thoughts on them. But no matter what, Pokemon and people believe in each other, need each other, and will continue to live together…”

Drayden is smarter and more nuanced than like, anyone else, why is he not a main character.

Iris chips in about how much she can’t forgive Plasma and Drayden mentions they don’t know how to wake up Zekrom.

Well, to be fair, I’d be very surprised if they did.

Off to the gym, this’ll be interesting since I have no ice or dragon moves on my team.

I get through the trainers okay, now time to fight Daffodil.

Her Haxorus was a bit tricky but nothing I couldn’t handle, and when I walk out Juniper shows up.

And somehow she knows how to resurrect Zekrom. Cool!

She blahs about how it’ll wake up when it deems someone worthy and talks about how much I’ve changed and shows me to the gate where the route to the pokemon league is.

“Chirae? Do you regret setting out on your pokemon journey?”

UH.

MAYBE?

mmm, that’s not fair to my pokemon though - nigh everyone around me may be looney tunes or incompetent, but they’ve been good pals.

So I hit “no” after all.

and she gives me a master ball. dope.

I make it to the gates of victory road and I honestly really like the bit where each section of them is themed after the badges! That’s a nice touch, I think that was only also done in the FRLG remakes if I recall correctly. It makes it feel a lot more ceremonious and important.

Ah here come my two idiots.

Bianca asks Cheren to smile and he’d probably implode if he did. He finally isn’t an asshole though, good for him.

The bug badge guard tells me to “fight valiantly like an insect” which is funny but I guess does make sense. Ants can fuck some stuff up, man.

Honestly I want to be a badge gate guard, seems like a fun job.

Also, I caught an excadrill in a raid the day I wrote this, and caught an excadrill in this game. Their pokedex entry includes this gem:

“Their tunnels can be destructive to subway systems”

Given the battle subway exists in this game, their insurance payments must be obscene. Imagine getting your match interrupted by a giant mole with metal fists that doesn’t give a fuck.

I named her Beans. She looks like a Beans.

I also caught a Deino. The Irate Pokémon that can’t see and tackles people to learn about its surroundings. I feel a kinship with this creature.

I named him Mezzo for laughs.

And I managed to get myself back to the beginning of victory road. Good job, cloud.

Okay I think I’ve found the right path, found a new dude to beat up which is a good sign. Apparently he’s lost too.

Love when a trainer switches out to a Pokémon mine doesn’t have a type advantage against and it gets wiped in two hits anyway. Death is inevitable.

“I’ve thought about what I can do to help my Pokémon win and I finally figured out the answer!”

Is it git gud?

Flame charge raises my speed, opponent’s klang uses automotize to prove it can do that too, dies because it’s too busy trying to go fast.

Then I get nailed by a flare blitz. Darmanitan is toxic to gen 5 nuzlocke runs, I swear. Especially since I have no one on my hodgepodge team resistant to fire. At least my unfezant is faster.

“Read what your opponent wants to do. Your opponent is human and may change plans from moment to moment. Be careful!”

There’s some meta joke to be made there but I’m not thinking of anything witty. Something something AI having a point even if not in this context.

Back to the beginning again but I think I know what I need to do now.

I looked at a walkthrough to check, tho, lmfao. Was tired of climbing up there only to fall down the wrong spot.

“There’s an item at the bottom! Do you want to slide all the way down?”

You’re the devil talking and you tempt me but I will ignore your silver tongue for now.

So I’m at the league and I thought Cheran would pop out of the bushes before I got here. That’s weird. I could swear he fights me one last time before I challenge the elite four.

NO CHERAN. OKAY. WHAT. IS MY GAME GLITCHED??

I guess not! Huh.

All right then. Time to try and see if I can win with my very unbalanced team.

Lmfao yeah my first attempt against the ghost trainer crashed and burned. Literally, thanks to her Chandelure. Very glad I saved on the outside. TIME TO GO TRAIN MORE.

No Marty, you may not learn wild charge, this is a no recoil moves household, self harm is bad.

Some grinding later, I am ready to try again.

Shauntal gave me a little trouble but was much more manageable. Grimsley was easy, only his Krookodile gave me issues.

I really like the elite four battle areas in this gen, I do admit. Very aesthetic.

Ah shit I know that Musharna is coming.

Never mind, that pink and purple snoozeball went down easy. I didn’t have a single Pokémon faint.

Unless Marshal breaks the trend the fights have actually gotten easier as I went.

He actually was a bit tricky, gave me a good show.

Hello endless stairs, hello N and Alder, hello giant random castle that just explodes out of the ground somehow.

“What has just appeared is team plasma’s castle”

Thanks mate, never would’ve figured that out without you. Why do you need a castle. 

Oh wow, the gym leaders finally decided to be useful and fight the sages for me instead of letting extremists wander around unchecked.

Thanks y’all! Trying not being pointless more often!

“Ignoring team plasma...that would be a terrible thing for us gym leaders to do.”

You all already did that, Elena. I watched as Clay and Iris let these assholes go. We could have avoided this whole plot if literally any of you had done more earlier.

So the game says the castle was built by the Pokémon team plasma took but how the fuck did they like...work underground...you know what I’m not gonna even think about it too hard because it makes no sense and I know that. I must make my peace.

I also like how the castle is nonsensical and yet there’s a line of dialogue about how they’ll liberate the Pokémon in PCs too for their Master Plan(TM), which is surprisingly thoughtful. This game is so inconsistent with how much sense its lore makes. It’ll come up with something clever and then wear its underwear on its head the next minute.

“Will you go the Pokémon league?”

Hey what - WHY DID YOU TELEPORT ME HOW CAN YOU DO THAT. DO YOU HAVE AN ABRA OR WHAT

THAT WAS RANDOM

Well at least there’s someone there to randomly teleport me back too.

WHEEEEEE

Hi Reshiram, convenient how that mini fire tornado you made didn’t burn me or N.

Hi Zekrom, convenient how your lightning didn’t hurt us either, you’re a considerate chap

Aight, let’s see if I can catch this bastard

...I did and it only took me like five balls. Okay then.

N gave me a good fight, so there’s that.

Love how Ghetsis’s bouffalant kills itself via recoil from its own move and my scrafty’s rocky helmet.

He gave me a good fight too though.

I do like the ending, despite my issues with how the game presents its message. N is a great character and I appreciate what Nintendo was trying to do with the game’s plot, they just...didn’t really delve into it like they should have.

I’m glad I replayed it. I still have my issues with gen 5 but I see a lot more of its positives now.

We’ll see if I do any post-game content, I have gotten kind of attached to my grump-ass trainersona and his weird team.

[jewpacabruhs]

hi guys! so this post is gonna be a rambly mess but fuck it, here ya go. if u dont wanna read all of it, u dont have to; skip down to underneath the tl;dr in bold text for the important bits :)

(there’s a brief & non-graphic mention of a triggering topic in the next paragraph. please be sure to skip this next paragraph if the thought of suicide is going to upset you.)

alright. so i didn't share this originally, but i spent some time in a psychiatric unit this month. suicidality related. 1000% unrelated from anything online, i've just struggled with depression for a very long time & shit happens. i didn't intend to share that at all & i certainly don't want pity; i'm telling u guys bc my time in the unit was extremely eye-opening, and i have some insight to share. since i've gotten out, with the help of my newest anti-depressant (fourth time’s a charm lol), i'm seeing the world in a better light & i finally have the energy to and the interest in exploring what it has to offer, which frankly i've never had before.

with that has come the realization that i’ve come to do something very unhealthy, and i want to break out of it. and that’s how much i’ve come to rely on my fandom life. i don’t want to get too candid publicly, but mental illness took a lot from me, and i lost most of my life, my future, and my options in the last few years. next year will involve a lot of working on rebuilding things. but in the time that i let things fall to pieces around me & i absolutely couldn’t get out of bed, i had a phone and i had a laptop. so when i couldn’t get up and physically face the world, i built up a new world online.

and i don’t think that’s a completely uncommon experience. most people are able to better manage things, and evenly juggle real life with an internet life (like i did back in middle school), because most people can’t abandon their real lives entirely like i managed to; but i do think a lot of people nowadays rely on their fandom life and their fandom friends when their irl situation isn’t ideal. and that’s an excellent coping mechanism in theory, but i think it’s debilitating in the long run.

forgive me for sounding like an old person, but i’m a heavy nostalgist and a bit of an anarcho-primitivist in that i resent modern technology's influence on society - but that hasn't stopped me from letting it be a big part of my life out of accessibility. the internet kept me occupied during my low points, and i became dependent, but i've realized i don't wanna live like that anymore. i’m vaguely grateful that it usually kept me busy enough that i wasn’t thinking the bad thoughts as frequently, but more than anything, i’m resentful that my grasp on reality got lost somewhere along the way, and i let time get away from me, too. because, again, an internet life should be a fun hobby, but when it’s a lifestyle and it becomes an excuse to avoid dealing with our real lives, bc our real lives aren’t as rewarding or as exciting, then it’s unhealthy.

everything’s at our fingertips these days, but i deeply believe human interaction, fun, and fulfillment shouldn't be spoon-fed to us through a screen. it's easy access, sure, but at the end of the day, is it any way to live? compared with how much world there is to see, i’m no longer satisfied with the thought of sitting behind a screen for another five years. i used to be, when i had no hope and no drive, but not anymore. i’m not gonna let myself settle for staying busy with the thing that takes the least amount of work & movement. not only because i’m a whole ass adult who needs to start sorting my shit out for the long run, but also because i deserve better.

and it’s fucking hard! especially for those of us who are neurodivergent. i dropped out of school three fucking times due to crippling social anxiety and utter lack of ambition and energy. i lost all my friends through that (making friends post-school is hard af); the thought of having to go out and remake friends makes me wanna fucking cry. i have a hard enough time making friends online, i’ve even come to struggle with correspondence thru text & email. phone calls? outta the question. but that’s therapy shit, and i know i’ll get there. i just have to stop putting life off by staying in a comfort zone.

and it’s interesting; depression and anxiety really took everything from me, and while i was dwelling in my own misery, my adhd worsened and decided to make my entire brain revolve around my fixations, so i didn’t have to deal with my own life. can’t think about how much you wanna die and how much you can’t function in society if you’re busy thinking about a ship you like or a character you find interesting. so i latched onto the safety of that. aggressively. problem with that is that once you let your “happiness” (as much of it as you can feel in the midst of your depressive episode, anyway) revolve around an interest, that’s all you have. so you become dependent and reliant, and that’s never good, especially if you’re someone like me who feels pathetic & ridiculous when you realize it’s all you can bring yourself to care about. 

and i think that’s what i realized in the psych ward (where there’s legitimately nothing to do; i did soooo much more thinking than usual, and i already think too much haha); mental illness will try to fuck up your lifestyle, so you have to eradicate the things that’ll let that happen in the first place. for example, like i said, my adhd tries to counteract my depression by making me hyperfixate and/or hyperfocus on something else to protect me from bad personal thoughts, and that’s good in theory (doing something you enjoy when you feel bad, to distract urself, is the number one most basic coping skill you learn), but i can’t do it in moderation, i let it run my life, and that’s made me worse in the long run. so i have to force myself out of that completely and not let myself fixate on things that make me happy in the short term, but don’t ultimately further me as a person. having fixations helped me through some awful times, but now i need to force myself to grow up, you know?

and while tumblr and other social media is an excellent way to indulge those fixations, it’s an aggressive enabler, in more ways than one. what i mean by that... okay, so while i’m the type of person who self-destructs while unhealthy, i do occasionally lash out. and i know some people completely explode rather than implode when they’re not doing well. and that’s how you get discourse, i think. because when mental illness makes us care much more about our interests than we ought to, and someone has a differing opinion about that interest, the instinct is of course to attack, if you’re that kind of person. i don’t think i am, but depression and boredom go hand in hand, and i might be inclined to care more about discourse than i would if i were healthy, purely because it’s entertaining and something to do. 

that’s a long winded way of saying, while i stand wholeheartedly by my past positions, i do regret starting shit in the first place. i’m not the kind of person who genuinely cares about much and i have little to no sense of morality (im a chaotic neutral bastard), so the fact i was bored enough to start shit really goes against my character and says a lot about how bad i’ve been. so i apologize for all that. but, again, i think that's just what happens when something is truly your everything. and i think the chronic negativity of modern fandom is a result of how damn seriously we all take it, because we care so much and we’re so dependent. fandom’s supposed to be fun, but it’s just too damn stressful this way.

idk my point in sharing all this, but i do think it'd be cool if this kinda got yall thinking. even if you don't engage in discourse, if fandom is just one of your only consistent sources of happiness, that's not healthy either. we all gotta break out & exist more & louder & more positively. and unfortunately i think tumblr fandom (and maybe all modern fandom) is no longer a place that encourages positivity and health.

but for all my criticism, i do just wanna say how eternally grateful i am that i was fortunate enough to meet the people i call my best friends through tumblr. they're my family, truly, and all the bullshit in this fandom has been worth it simply because it brought them to me. i love them to death and i always will, even if interests change, even if we grow apart, even if we quit speaking entirely in the next few years, i love them with my whole heart in a way that transcends a simple fandom friendship and i'm so glad we bonded over sp in the first place. that’ll never change.

i will also always love south park itself. now that the cat's outta the bag about my hospital visit, i can brag about my most pathetic and obsessive accomplishment; the fact that i've never let circumstance stop me from watching a new south park as it airs, and i've now watched sp on 1) an airplane, and 2) in a psych ward. i win for most dedicated fan tbfh. dsjkf & i'll keep that tradition, and i'll still watch this stupid show til it ends! it'll always hold a special place in my heart, & kyman's still my most meaningful & long-term ship. i'll never stop loving it. 

tl;dr

so, to recap; for 2020 i'm making myself step back from fandom (not just sp fandom, but fandom in general) and quit letting my world revolve around my fixations so i can enjoy the outside world a little more, mental illness be damned, and the first step is gonna be quitting tumblr. this blog won't be deleted and i may occasionally post (maybe when next season airs) but you're absolutely free to unfollow bc this'll be a mostly inactive blog. i’m also unfollowing everyone, so mutuals, please don’t take that personally. 

i will, however, try to write more prolifically, bc fic writing is something i'm able to do in moderation & enjoy, and i hope to get back into it. so if you'd like, you can keep an eye out for any upcoming fanfic i may post - my ao3 is leere. i also have snapchat, instagram, & twitter my mutuals can ask for asap (bc ill be logging out for good by the afternoon of the 31st, which is tomorrow) - though i'm not very active on any of them. still, if you wanna have access to me, i’ll be there.

i want some connection to the fandom still, albeit without letting my life revolve around it, so i'll be starting a new open-to-the-public kyman discord server! the post with the invite for that will go up soon. nvm im too anxious  

thank you for reading, thank you for the good times (thnks fr th mmrs), and i hope everyone has a good 2020! 

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White - Part 3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 4 / read on ao3

His chest hurt. His legs shook. Just one foot in front of the other. He had to. He had been through worse than this, hadn’t he? He squeezed his eyes shut. He could handle this. But his breathing was starting to get ragged and...

His chest hurt. His legs shook. Just one foot in front of the other. He had to. He had been through worse than this, hadn’t he? He squeezed his eyes shut. He could handle this. But his breathing was starting to get ragged and...

Ugh. His legs...couldn’t...

No…

“You’re doing so good, Danny.” A kind female voice broke through his clouded brain. “Just a little further…”

“Hurts,” he grunted.

“Ok, let’s sit down, then,” the woman said.

He felt something tap the back of his legs and found himself all but collapsing in the wheelchair.

Danny pressed his lips together, glaring into his open palms like they were the hands that messed him up beyond repair. After a tense moment of silence, he opened his mouth. “I don’t understand. I should be fine by now.”

“Danny, you’re healing at an incredible rate given the amount of stress your body has undergone. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes and steeled himself to stand back up. “I just...I need to do this. I can’t spend my life in a wheelchair. I need to get better. I have to.”

“And you will.” The physical therapist made her way around the chair. She stood in front of Danny, arms crossed and an inquisitive look on her freckled face. Danny studied her face, noting her thin eyebrows and expressive green eyes. She’d introduced herself to him on the first day they’d met, and he had also  heard her name from several other people after that. But no matter how hard he dug in his mind for her name, his brain was blank.

The doctors told him—well, actually, they told his parents, but he’d been in the room anyway—that he had minor brain damage. It, like everything else, would get better with time. They’d reassured his parents. His parents had cried, but Danny lay in his hospital bed unmoving. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that. He knew what was wrong. What was missing.

Forgetting bits of conversation, forgetting what he ate for breakfast, forgetting what day it was—those had been the obvious signs. The signs that he couldn’t hide from his parents or his sister, who regarded him with sad eyes every time he repeated a question or asked yet again what time it was.

But there was another, more subtle sign of the damage to his mind. One that he didn’t notice at first, one that only made itself more apparent as time went on. One that frustrated him to his core and that he tried desperately to hide from the world.

Names.

No matter how many times someone told him their name, no matter how many times he heard it in passing conversation, he couldn’t commit it to memory. He noticed it first with his nurses, who he saw every day. They were amazing, caring people who treated him with as much dignity and respect as they would treat each other. And for that, he was grateful. But every time he would try to put a name to their face…his brain would draw a blank. He couldn’t do it.

His therapist, his doctor, his physical therapist, even the patients that he ate lunch with every day, he had nothing to call them by.

And that killed him.

The physical therapist shifted, putting most of her weight on one of her legs. “But right now you need to sit. Your chest isn’t completely healed yet, and if we stress your body out too much, you’ll only end up hurting yourself. We need to take this slow, Danny. Slower than you’d like, but it’s the only way to do this. Anyway, most people in your position wouldn’t be out of the chair for months, if not years.”

“Most people in my position would be dead,” said Danny stiffly.

The physical therapist shrugged, her eyes darting up to the ceiling. “Yeah, well. Small blessings, I guess.”

Danny clutched his chest. “I’m gonna get those one hundred feet before I go back to Casper High.”

“That’s only one week away,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. But I can do it.”

The physical therapist stared at him for a moment before she shook her head and sighed. “Danny, I—”

“Clarice?” a deep voice sounded from the entryway.

Danny tensed, his fight or flight senses activating out of nowhere. Calm down, Fenturd, he tried telling himself. You’re safe. You’re at your PT appointment. Nothing’s going to happen.

“Can I borrow you for a second? This form isn’t right,” the man said, his voice just inches behind Danny. It reminded him of...it almost sounded like...

The blood drained from his face and ragged breath escaped his lips. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair as his eyes stared unseeing in front of him. The white, fluorescent lights were suddenly blinding. Stop shaking, stop shaking.

The physical therapist’s eyes widened as they flickered down to Danny’s trembling form. “Uh, Michael—”

“Oh!” the man exclaimed, turning to face Danny. Except it wasn’t the male physical therapist. It was the glaring image of Operative O.

He sneered down at Danny and wiped a fleck of ectoplasm from his otherwise pristine white suit. “Ectoplasm is a stain on humanity,” he growled, his deep voice digging into Danny like a hot knife. “I will rid the world of it, dog.”

It’s not him. He’s not here.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“If you had just behaved, ghost, I might have let you keep your legs,” Operative O said, his voice dripping with slime. “We tried to be nice. You brought this on yourself.”

Danny was on the tiled floor. It was cold. Damp from his ectoplasm. They’d kicked him over so he was lying on his stomach at some point, presumably bored of beating his face and chest. His head was turned to the side, mouth open like a fish as he tried to suck in any air he could through ragged breaths. Ectoplasm dripped out of his mouth, forming a small puddle on the floor.

He was shaking, sweating, his body racked with pain. No! No! Please don’t. Please don’t, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t speak.

In the distance, he heard the muffled voice of his physical therapist. “It’s okay. Can you go get a nurse for me?”

Operative O leaned down, his eyes gleaming. He held up a metal baseball bat. “You’ve left me no choice, dog.”

SNAP!

���NO!”

“Danny?” a face appeared in his fogged vision. “Danny, what’s going on?”

Danny’s eyes latched onto the blurry face of his physical therapist, blinking until she came into focus. Her red eyebrows were raised high into her freckled forehead. Her green eyes pierced into his. “Danny?” she repeated.

“I—” He coughed, as if trying to expel the phantom pain that flared in his back. He gasped out, “My back!”

A look of alarm spread across her face. “What about your back, Danny?”

His knit his eyebrows together, trying to piece together his broken memories. “They—it’s...it’s broken...they broke it…”

To his utter confusion, she relaxed. “Yes, Danny. You’re at PT right now because we’re trying to help fix this.”

“I’m—I what?” Danny’s hands shot to grip his hair as he searched his brain, grasping at...something...something to remember. Wisps of “T-12 level break” and “paraplegia” flickered through his mind. His panicked expression morphed into a look of horror as his eyes shot down to his legs. He lifted a hand off his head and let it hover over the numb limbs and froze. Snapping out of his stupor, he yanked his arm back up to his chest, curling the fingers in protectively. No...he wasn’t...was he?

“You’re getting so much better though. You’re walking now and everything, Danny.”

“Yeah,” he said through a shaky breath. “Incomplete.”

“That’s right.” The physical therapist bobbed her head, the light reflecting off of her soft cheekbones. “The break was incomplete, so that’s why you’re here learning to walk again. You have enough motor function in your legs to essentially retrain your body.”

“Oh.”

“Hey Danny, what’s going on?” came the voice of an older woman. Danny looked over to see the kind expression of one of the more senior nurses still working at the hospital. Her light brown hair, speckled with gray, was cut in a short style that accentuated her curls. He searched through his brain for her name...he must’ve known it, right? He saw her all the time. He was sure he’d heard it before….

But nothing came to him.

She peered at Danny through her round glasses. “Bad day, huh?”

The physical therapist craned her head up to look at the nurse. “Michael didn’t realize Danny was here. He came over to ask a question.”

The nurse hummed in response. “Sorry about that, Danny. Michael can be pretty unobservant sometimes. You doing okay?”

“I...yeah…” Danny said, swallowing thickly.

“I think he’s just a little shaken up is all. He should be okay soon.” The physical therapist glanced at her watch. “Our time is almost over anyway. Can you get Danny to his room? He probably wants to get ready before school starts.”

“Yeah,” Danny breathed out, relieved at these words. On a typical day, he went straight from physical therapy to the inpatient academic classes in the morning. But today, as if the physical therapist could hear his thoughts, he desperately needed a few moments to collect himself.

He didn’t understand what went wrong. Until now, he had been having a good day. He slept soundly last night, he socialized a little at breakfast, his chest hadn’t been acting up at all, and he walked far at PT.

So what went wrong? Why did everything suddenly go to shit?

No...that was too easy to answer. It was because his stupid brain couldn’t handle things going well for too long. He was broken, a mess, a joke of a functioning human. He couldn’t even handle being in the same room as someone with a deeper voice without his brain imploding on itself. All because of stupid Operative O with his stupid bald head and his stupid white suit.

Danny hadn’t realized the nurse was wheeling him back to the inpatient wing until she pressed her keycard to the locked double doors. They were a disgusting shade of teal. Nothing like Jazz’s headband, which was brightly colored and radiated exorbitant amounts of Jazz energy. These doors were bleak in comparison, reflecting far more grays than blues. It reminded Danny of a swamp.

The doors opened, and she pushed Danny into the teen inpatient sector. “Welcome back,” he muttered to himself.

The entire ward was relatively small, which made sense in Danny’s mind. After all, a bunch of mentally unstable teenagers in a maze sounded like a terrible idea. Danny glanced to his left to the arts corner. It was nothing special, just a few round tables with art supplies in plastic buckets along the walls. To his right was the lounge area. That was nothing special there either, just a rug, a few long benches, and board games. Beyond that was the cafeteria.

The nurse pushed him straight across the hallway that separated the two open rooms. A few lazy eyes flickered Danny’s way, but most people paid him no mind. It was no secret that Danny Phantom got cut up by the government and had to attend physical therapy sessions at the hospital outside of the inpatient facility. It was not uncommon for Danny to be pushed in a wheelchair by some nurse, even if he was becoming more and more independent by the day. And it wasn’t unusual for Danny to appear with that ever-present dazed look in his eyes.

The nurse pushed the accessible button, opening a second set of gross teal doors to reveal a small hallway. Blue tiles covered the floor, and in the back of his mind, he recalled one of Jazz’s long-winded speeches about the psychology of colors. Blue was...calming? Danny needed to talk to the idiot who thought of that. The Box Ghost’s skin was blue, and that guy had caused Danny nothing but irritation.

“What number are you?” the nurse asked, interrupting his inner ranting.

Danny lifted his arm and waved it at a door to his right. “That one. Four doors down.”

“Alrighty!” she said brightly as she pushed him through the open door of his room. “Are you alright here on your own now?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft.

“Okay. We’re leaving for school in ten minutes, so be outside when you’re ready.”

He turned, offering her a small smile. “Thanks.”

He stared into his plain room. The room was designed for two occupants—two beds, two dressers, two desks—but the second set of furniture remained unused. Danny had asked about the vacancy once, purposefully keeping his tone light as he did, but the response he received was lackluster. Disappointing. A dismissive wave of the hand along with some ill-devised excuse about there just being an open space, and he never brought it up again. Through his three-and-a-half week stay in the facility, he’d seen other people cycle through new roommates as nameless faces came and left the hospital. Hell, the redhead even had two roommates at once when he first moved in, and yet it seemed Danny’s own room was destined to remain bare.

It shouldn’t have bothered him the way it did. After all, wasn’t it nicer to have a room to himself? Wouldn’t he have wanted to be alone anyway? But, for some reason, it did bother him. Maybe it was that final reminder, the final twist to the knife in his gut, that even to the people who preached how equal and deserving of human rights he was, he wasn’t human enough to have a roommate. He was a flight risk, a safety hazard. What sane parent would allow their child to room with a ghost anyway? He stared down at his paper thin arms, their color so pale that he could make out the veins underneath. Disgusting, that’s what he was.

He shouldn’t exist.

He deserved to be alone.

After all, he brought it on himself when he went into the portal the day of his accident. And then later when he decided to be a hero for Amity Park instead of slinking into the shadows like most other ghosts. And then again, when he was too slow, too weak, and got himself revealed on national television. Of course he was the Guys in White’s golden prize. If he wasn’t such a narcissist and just kept to himself like Vlad warned him to do...

“Stop whining,” he hissed as he heaved himself from his chair, leaning on his walker. He took a moment, allowing his body to balance, before walking over to his dresser and grabbing a red Casper High hoodie.

He slowly made his way over to his bed and sank down on the hard mattress. He ran his hand through the red fabric, noting the missing strings on the sweatshirt. His mother had ripped out all the strings on his hoodies the day he was admitted to inpatient. Something about the hospital code and strings being dangerous to teens. The now undecorated garment perfectly matched his new velcro sneakers.

God, if Dash could only see him now. Wearing velcro sneakers like he was a preschooler again.

Danny would never admit this to anyone, but he was almost glad for the hospital’s strict clothing policy. The shoes were so simple to get on and off, a small blessing in disguise for someone who was only just relearning how to dress himself in the morning. Even though the hospital’s no-laced-shoes policy prevented him from trying, he couldn’t imagine being able to lace sneakers in his current state. Doing the velcro straps already took far longer than it should. As tacky as it looked, Danny would take whatever break he could get from life.

He pulled the red hoodie over his head and turned his attention back to his walker. He had been too mentally drained when they first introduced him to it to be appalled by the fact that he needed a walker. And while he didn’t exactly love hobbling around in a walker in front of the other patients, wheeling around in front of them was equally as embarrassing in his mind. Here was the great Danny Phantom reduced to…

This.

He pushed himself off his bed and walked back over to his wheelchair. He slid down into the cushioned seat, undid the breaks, and left his room. Through the windows in the hallway doors, he saw the other teens congregated in the lounge area, looking thoroughly miserable as they waited to be brought down to the classroom area. He pressed the accessible button on the doors and silently prayed to any god that may exist that he wasn’t the last person to arrive to the lounge.

As fate would have it, he heard a distinct “There he is! Okay, that’s everyone” as soon as he came through the doors.

“Took you long enough,” a tall redhead commented as soon as Danny drew near. He was one of the few people who willingly sat with Danny at lunch. Maybe it was because they had both been in the facility for so long, or maybe it was because the redhead was a slight fanboy of Phantom. Danny didn’t really care. As long as the kid was friendly, Danny was fine with him.

“What, no PT today?” the guy asked.

What was his name? Kevin? Calvin?

Danny fell beside him as the group turned to leave. “No. I, uh, got out early. So I went back to my room to change.”

“Gotcha. I was confused when the nurses said you’d be walking over with us today.”

“Yeah, well. Surprise, I guess.” Danny shrugged.

Jerry? Chase?

“Charlie!” came the higher timbre of the Hispanic boy who’d arrived earlier in the week. “Sit at my table today, yeah?”

Now that the brunette had been in inpatient for a few days, he was starting to open up more. He was also one of the few people Danny liked, despite being new to the facility. He was quiet, nerdy. The boy had told Danny during free time that he used to play Dungeons and Dragons with two of his friends in middle school and asked if Danny played the game at all. Danny hadn’t, much to Tucker’s despair. The brunette had offered him a shy smile at this, the first smile Danny had seen from him since the boy’s arrival, and said “We’ll have to play it some time. You know, if you’re interested.”

He was a sweet kid, truly. Danny could only wonder what happened for him to end up in a place like this.

“Of course,” the redhead said. He glanced down at Danny. “You’re joining us too, right?”

“Where?” Danny asked.

“Uh, at our table today?”

“Okay,” Danny said, swiveling around a corner in the hallway. He tried to ignore the way the hallways looked, always a pure white. A spotless, immaculate white. The tiles, shiny and pure. Untainted with his ectoplasm.

“Disgusting,” Operative O hissed, pinching a white coat splatter-painted green. The darkness of the cell framed Operative O’s face, creeping up his cheekbones and stopping just before his eyes. “Look what you did. Ectoplasm stains, ghost. I’ll need a new jacket now.”

It always struck Danny as odd how, no matter how bloodied he’d get the hallways as they dragged his lifeless Phantom form down it, the floors in the government facility were always back to their pristine white state the next morning.

“Ectoplasm stains, ghost.”

It was as if someone hit a reset button on the facility at midnight. Every speck of ectoplasm was gone. The smell of burnt citrus and that hint of lime were replaced with the smell of Clorox. The walls glittered like snow, and the floors reflected the fluorescent ceiling lights with a purity Danny didn’t know existed.

“Ectoplasm stains.”

Too bad the reset button didn’t spread its magic to his cell.

“Danny, you need some help there?” a voice asked, breaking Danny from his thoughts. Looking around, he noticed he was falling behind the group.

“No, I’m alright,” Danny said, glancing up at the redhead. “Thanks.”

Danny huffed, putting more force into moving his chair only for his chest to suddenly flare up in pain. “ Shit, ” he exclaimed, ripping his hands off the wheels as if they emitted an electric shock. He sat erect, eyes wide and mouth open. He tried to choke down some oxygen, but his breathing was choppy, disjointed, and oh god what was going on why couldn’t he BREATHE.

“Danny?” His two companions turned around in alarm.

“I—” I’m fine, Danny tried to say.

A nursing assistant was on him in an instant. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” the redhead said. “He was fine a minute ago, but he just suddenly stopped. It’s probably his chest again.”

“Yeah.” The nursing assistant bent down to Danny’s level. She looked at him with steady eyes. “Danny I’m going to stand you up, okay?”

He nodded. Or, he hoped he nodded. He wasn’t sure. Everything hurt. The shallow breaths weren’t enough for him. He was starting to get light headed. The walls were so bright here. He knew he wasn’t at the government facility, so why did the walls have to be so bright?

“His chest?” Danny heard the brunette whisper.

“Yeah, he gets these flare-ups now. From...you know…”

He felt the nursing assistant grip his arms and hoist him from the chair. It was almost depressing how easily she managed to lift him up. He was on a diet plan at the hospital to help him regain what he’d lost at the government facility, but still...

“Take a few steps for me,” she commanded.

He managed to nod this time as he shakily took a few steps forward. Already, the hot pain in his chest was receding. The tight muscles in his chest unwound slightly, allowing him to breathe. He closed his eyes, gulping at the air. Tugging his arms out of her grip, he placed his palms over his face and focused on staying on his feet.

The perfect distraction from the dull pain that was beginning to flood his chest.

“Danny?” she said.

He let his arms fall to his sides. Cracking open his eyes, he noticed the other teens had stopped in their tracks. They stared at him apprehensively, their previous chatter replaced with silence.

“Sorry,” he said, lowering his gaze.

“Don’t sweat it,” the redhead said. “Here, let me help you.”

“No, I’m—”

“Danny,” the nursing assistant said, her tone even. “Sit down. Let us help you.”

Danny breathed in, fully prepared to launch the reflexive ‘no’ from his lips when he stopped. He surveyed the group of teens in front of him. They looked uncomfortable, tense, as if they were waiting for him to snap, to dig out the chip in his neck with his bare fingers, power up an ectoblast, and launch them through the walls of the hospital.

His eyes wandered away from the group of teens to the two boys— what were their names again? Craig and Mikey? —who stared at him with a mix of earnest and concerned expressions. The tall redhead offered him a small smile, his hand on the side of Danny’s wheelchair as if to say, “I’m ready whenever you are!”

Without warning, a wave of everything came crashing down on Danny’s shoulders. He felt like shit. His only two friends in this hospital were here to support him, but he didn’t even have the decency to remember their names? Not to mention, their mental health issues were almost certainly more pressing than Danny’s. They were here because they tried to take their own lives, whereas Danny was admitted because he felt sad. And Danny was really going to fall apart in front of them? Force them to comfort him ? All because his chest hurt a little bit?

How selfish could he be? Wasn’t he supposed to be the strong one? The hero? The one struggling kids and teens could look up to as their real-life superhero they could rely on to protect them from all the bad in the world?

And now look at him.

Utterly despicable.

Feeling more disgusted with himself than ever, he sat down in his chair and tried not to let his face heat up as the redhead gently pushed him forward. He tried not to notice the pitying side glance the brunette gave him. He tried.

Some hero, he thought miserably.

“Man,” the brunette said after a few moments of tense silence. “I didn’t realize I’d still have to come to school here. That’s so dumb.”

“I feel you, Miguel,” the redhead said, catching onto the shift in topic. “It’s only for three hours, though, so it could be worse. After tomorrow, I’ll be back to the regular school day, so that’s gonna suck.”

Well, that certainly piqued Danny’s interest. Before he could help himself, he asked, “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” the redhead said, his voice odd. “I, uh, mentioned it yesterday at lunch. Finally got the okay from my psychologist. So that’s good. Except then I have to go back to school and explain why I was out for three weeks…”

“Oh,” he said, feeling a bit stupid for forgetting such an important detail his own friend told him. Embarrassment flooded through him as he was reminded yet again how different his situation was from the average teen. Danny was fairly certain everyone in his school knew exactly where he was. After all, his final breakdown had been an embarrassingly public event inside Casper High complete with jocks trying to calm him down, Mr. Lancer calling Jazz over the loudspeakers to his office, both of his parents rushing to school, and an agonizing discussion the Fenton family had been avoiding like the plague. So yes, even though Danny was positive his sister would never divulge where he was to his classmates—save Sam and Tucker—without his permission, he knew his peers were smart enough to put two and two together.

But the redhead was a different story. His suffering had been a silent affair. His brain had torn itself to pieces, leaving only an apathetic teen who drifted through his day-to-day life without experiencing it. Eventually, the war inside him bubbled to the surface in the form of coming out to his father, which ended with screaming, tears, and the heartbreaking “Don’t come back until you’ve sorted your shit out!” That, combined with the rejection from his classmates, had been the final straw for the redhead. A pit stop at a Walmart on the way home from school one day, and he had everything he needed to take himself out.

He was lucky his mom came home from work early that day.

To his classmates, the redhead simply disappeared. He wasn’t dead or else they would have heard about it in an obituary. Maybe he contracted mono. Maybe he was recovering from an emergency appendix removal. Maybe he had moved in with his dad. Maybe his grandfather in Florida died and he had to fly halfway across the country to be with his family.

Nobody knew, and nobody could contact him while he was in inpatient. They were all certain to have questions when he got back. Questions that, judging by the redhead’s somber tone, Danny couldn’t imagine he would answer honestly.

“What are you gonna say?” the brunette asked.

“I dunno,” the redhead said.

“Tonsil surgery has a two-week recovery period,” Danny blurted out. He remembered Jazz’s. It was her first time taking heavy pain medication, and that’s when they found out that her body couldn’t handle the pills on an empty stomach. She was violently ill and ended up back in the hospital with an IV in her arm. “But if you have a—a...complication, then you could probably get away with...uh...more time.”

“Oh,” the redhead said. “Thanks. I might use that actually.”

“Same, if you don’t mind,” the brunette said sheepishly. “Since I’m only here for two weeks.”

“It’s not like we go to the same school,” the redhead responded.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Danny looked up at them confused. “We’re all going to the same school.”

“What do you mean, Danny?” the redhead asked.

“Right now...aren’t we? We all go to the same school?” He brought a hand up to his head.

The redhead paused before answering in a patient tone, “You’re right. Right now, we all go to the same school, yes. But after tomorrow, I’ll be going back home, and I’ll be going to a different school. And soon you and Miguel will also go home and go back to your own schools, too. Since we live in different towns.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He wasn’t sure if he understood that or not, he kept it to himself.

“Though, speaking of hell…” the redhead muttered, pushing Danny through a wide doorway to reveal the hospital classroom. It was rather average-looking, with a blue rug covering the floor and light pouring in from the large windows. Aside from the this-room-was-recently-renovated look the classroom had, the only real difference between this room and a typical classroom at Casper High was the use of dark wooden tables rather than individual desks. Apparently, it was to promote collaboration during completion of assignments. The therapists wanted the teens to work together and learn to ask each other for help with their math problems. Danny didn’t really see a point, but he didn’t voice this opinion to any of the psychologists. Even for him, a C-average student, these assignments were rather easy.

Not that he was complaining. If the hospital wanted to give them algebra review, short poems to analyze, and easy science articles to read for three hours a day to meet the public school attendance policy, that was fine by him.

The redhead steered Danny over to the table closest to the windows and parked Danny alongside the table. The brunette went to remove one of the wooden chairs to make room for Danny’s wheelchair.

“Wait,” Danny said, gripping the wooden table. “Leave it. I’m fine.”

The brunette glanced around nervously. “Uh, are you sure? You—the nursing assistant—”

“Don’t worry, Miguel,” the redhead said, waving the black-haired boy off. “He’s fine.”

Danny felt a small swell of warmth at the redhead’s assurance. He stood, leaning on the table for support, and shuffled over to his wooden chair. He spared a glance over at the brunette— Miguel, right? Or did they say Michael?— who regarded him with an odd, pained expression. Self-consciousness overtook Danny, and he made a special effort to sit down in his seat as fluidly as possible.

“Alright, class,” the teacher said. The awkward tension at Danny’s table dissipated immediately as their attention was pulled to the whiteboard. With neat blue letters, she printed something at the top of the board. Mrs. Reyes. Recognition sparked in Danny’s brain as he read her name. And for the third week in a row, he tried to commit it to memory. Mrs. Reyes.   

“Today’s math lesson is going to be review for most of you. We’re going to be doing some geometry today! Specifically, we’re going to be working with triangles. I’m going to pass out your worksheet, and then we’ll do the first few problems on the board before you guys finish the worksheet at your table.”

The class collectively groaned as the teacher— Mrs. Reyes —passed out the math worksheet. Danny picked up his worksheet, glancing at it. It didn’t look too bad. Pythagorean theorem, some work with fractions, and a few problems centered around angles. All in all, not terrible. And thankfully things he’d already seen in Casper High’s math class, as absent as he’d been his freshman year.

Regardless, he tried to pay attention to his teacher . Everything he did—or didn’t do, for that matter—was reported to his psychologist. If he was unable to pay attention in school, they may push back his release date. As it stood, he was set to be released after four weeks in the program. But if he regressed…

Well, Danny could kiss his dreams of freedom goodbye.

The te— Mrs. Reyes —drew a small box around the last example solution on the board. “Okay, students! Now I want you to work with your table to finish the worksheet. I’ll be floating around the room, so wave me over if you need me!”

Danny stared at her for a moment. How could she be so happy in a place like this? Working with depressive, angry teenagers all day?

“Hey, why do you think she’s here instead of a regular school?” Danny found himself asking.

The redhead looked taken aback by the unprompted question. “I dunno. Maybe she’s just a nice person. Why did you dress up in a jumpsuit and fight ghosts from attacking people every day?”

Danny froze, his gaze locked into the redhead’s strong eyes. This was a test, he realized. A test that had a rather simple answer.

Danny could just say it was his ghost obsession. Obsessions were fairly public knowledge, anyway, even if a small yet loud group of critics liked to say otherwise online. And it didn’t take too long of an observation to figure out what a ghost’s obsession was, even a halfa like Danny. Even if his obsession wasn’t necessarily as strong as a normal ghost, it was still everything that made his identity as Phantom. The silly “hero voice” he used to calm down children, the quirky personality, even the lame puns he made while fighting ghosts. They were all tactics he used to protect.

But… “I don’t know,” Danny said, shrugging. “It just seemed like...the right thing to do.”

But obsessions were personal. Private. Ghosts, as in-your-face as they were about their own obsessions, were also equally as sensitive about them.

It was a paradox. Truly. One Danny couldn’t fully put into words. At least, not in an attempt to explain it to a random human. It was one of those instinctual, unspoken laws that governed the ghost zone. Sure, The Box Ghost quite literally had the word box in his name, and he did carry boxes with him almost 24/7, but Danny would never think to say the words, “You’re obsessed with boxes.” At least, not to his face.

Obsessions were unspoken. Understood, but never told. Sam and Tucker once made the mistake of insinuating what his was, and Danny reacted by tossing his lunch in the trash and hiding invisible in the library for the rest of the lunch period. He apologized later—his face red with embarrassment—and they did too, but the topic was never brought up again. And neither was his reaction. Danny truly didn’t know why ghosts were sensitive about this discussion or any discussion related to their death or personal identity, but they just were.

And, judging by the intrigued looks from the two other teenagers sitting at his table, this conversation seemed to be headed towards a dangerous discussion.

“Are you gonna go back to being Phantom when you leave?” the brunette asked.

Danny winced.

Yup, he was right.

“I...don’t know.” Danny responded quietly. “I guess, you know, if I can. Probably. So, I’m looking at this problem, and it uses fractions and I—I’m just not sure how to...to divide fractions. I, uh wasn’t really paying atten—”

“Wait, does that mean you’ll be able to get out of the wheelchair eventually?” The brunette leaned closer to Danny.

Danny leaned back subconsciously and glanced nervously around the room. A boy in the table next to theirs was sending nonchalant glances their way. The teacher was on the other side, helping the table nearest to the door with a problem.

Damn, he couldn’t rely on her to make them focus.

“That’s the goal,” he said.

“Is it because of your ghost powers?” The boy from the table in front of theirs had turned around. He was tall, well over six feet, with mussed-up brown hair and thick eyebrows. His eyes burned with curiosity. “I heard ghosts can heal fast. Does this mean your spine’s gonna re-fuse or something?”

“I don’t know,” Danny said, claustrophobia beginning to creep into the corners of his mind. He fought to keep the panic out of his voice. “I don’t know.”

The guy in front of him grinned. “Man, I remember watching Phantom—er, you —on TV. It was so cool, dude. You beat the shit out of everyone! ”

“Yeah, it was pretty cool,” the teen at the table next to him said. He propped his elbow on the table and rested his sharp chin in his hand. “How did you even get ghost powers anyways? Cuz you’re not even dead. So how does that work?”

A shaky hand went up to grip his hair. His chest was suddenly tight, and his breathing was beginning to get ragged. Through his glassy vision, he saw the redhead quirk an eyebrow at him from across the table.

“Or did you die and come back to life? Is that what happened?” the teen next to him continued, seemingly unaware of Danny’s rapidly declining state. “Were you, like, going to turn into a ghost and then they brought you back at the last second?”

Air. Danny needed air. His hand tightened its hold on his hair as his other hand tugged on his shirt. He felt like he was sucking air through a straw. Nausea rolled through him like a wave. White spots danced in his eyes. He needed...he needed…

The higher pitched voice of the redhead pierced through his panic. “Hey, dude, stop. I don’t think Danny’s—”

“What’s going on over here?”

“Nothing, we were just—”

“I don’t see much of this worksheet completed.”

“Yeah, we were stuck on—”

Danny leaned over the side of his chair and threw up.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 4

[haikyuu-imagines-and-others]

Can you write a scenario (angst) where Nishinoya and his fem!s/o have an argument and it ends up in her running out of the house but she gets it by a car. it would be great if you could do oikawa too but dont if its too much work. thank you! xx

I’m just really thirsty for an angsty Nishinoya scenario. Could any of you satisfy my thirst? (This sounds so dirty, I didn’t even mean to omg)

I’m just going to add these two requests!!! Both are asking for Nishinoya angst PLUS an extra Oikawa angst for funsies! I am so beyond happy that you all like my level of angst… Which isn’t actually a level it’s more like an assortment of angsty shit I’ve read and watched lol! I hope you all like what I’ve come up with! Thank you for requesting! - Admin Satori <3

Nishinoya Yuu:

“______! Check out this awesome bruise I got today from Ryuu’s spike!” Nishinoya bounded up next to you as you walked home from school. You looked over at what he was showing excitedly; the insides of his elbows and forearms were covered in dark purple bruises, and you almost felt sick to your stomach looking at them. But his excitement was out of this world, he looked completely pleased with himself and stood up straight as he walked next to you, he was just barely taller than you, but his hair made up for most of it.

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest, smacking away his hand when he tried to grab yours, “Yuu, bruises are only cool and awesome and badass to a specific point…. You passed that a long time ago… your bruises look bad, Yuu.” Your eyebrows furrowed, “Like… ‘Oh my god, does he get abused by his girlfriend’ bad.” You explained yourself better, glancing over at him when he let out a bark fo a laugh.

“Oh no way! No one thinks that, _____! I promise!” He smiled widely, feeling his body buzzing at your admittance of being his girlfriend. It wasn’t something brand new, you’d admitted it before, you’d talked about dating him on a daily basis to his friends and yours because you knew he liked it. He liked everyone knowing he was going out with you and that you were his first real girlfriend and he’d actually beaten Tanaka to the punch of getting a girl to go out with him. It was a pride thing. A boy thing.

You let out a long sigh, “That’s no the point, Yuu. Not every practice needs your 130% effort…. It’s practice, sweetie, you’re supposed to work on things you have issues on, not rock the whole gym with your mad skillz…. Yo.” You knew he wasn’t taking you seriously, and you knew it was probably because you weren’t taking it too seriously either. He wasn’t going to take your concerns seriously, and you knew that the moment you’d met him.

And it wasn’t because he just didn’t care, but because he knew what his body could and couldn’t handle. He knew his limits, and he’d assured you about it day in and day out that he was doing just fine! But still, it was your job to worry. You’d known him as a kid, and how he was now in high school was a radically different person altogether.

Nishinoya smiled, continuing to brush off your worry, reaching out a bit and wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he walked next to you, “But if I don’t give all my effort, how am I going to know if I’ve improved?” He pointed out, not realizing that his logic didn’t really make too much sense to anyone who had a brain. But you sighed as a response and his smile faltered, “A-are….. Are you mad at me, _____?” He asked curiously, sensing tension in the air around the two of you, knowing you’d let out sighs as a way to get out all the steam from the rage boiling inside your very soul. Which is something he liked about you; While he was bouncing off the walls with all this positive energy and radiated so much light, you preferred to keep it bottled and hidden for the most part, only showing who you were to those you deemed worthy…. Like Yin and Yang. Two sides to the same coin.

“No… Yuu… I’m not mad… Just a little worried…” You assured quietly, reading over and pressing your lips to his cheek before you stopped at the crosswalk, “I’ve got to go drop off my friends homework since she missed today… I’ll catch up with you.” You gave him the softest smile you could muster in this trying time before turning towards the crosswalk and making your trek to the other sidewalk as the sign dinged in approval.

Of course, not everything worked perfectly 100% of the time. Not even in Japan.

Suddenly you were thrown into the air, your body coming into contact with something that cracked hard, before tumbling over the roof of something made of metal and falling to the street on the other side. Your head cracked against the asphalt and you lost consciousness. Nishinoya stared from the sidewalk, not believing what he’d just seen, but his body was moving before he could come to terms with it, and suddenly you were being cradled in his arms in the middle of the road. “H-H…. HELP! HELP! Someone! Please!!! Call an ambulance! Please!” Nishinoya’s voice strained to be heard, not because he’d yelled too much that day but because his entire body was in panic mode; his throat was closing in on his volume control and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to yell before he was thrown into coughing fits. “Oh my god…. Please, ____, open your eyes… Look at me… Please wake up. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” His voice broke, not even realizing he’d started crying until after he saw one of his tears fall on your face and trail down your own cheek.

An annoying beeping sound pierced into your conciseness and you felt your spirit reaching out to try to shut it up, but nothing of your physical form moved to stop the beeping. Nothing moved at all. You could hear voices, hear people’s strained and stressed tones; At one point you could have sworn you heard panicked yelling and arguing. You wanted to tell them to shut up. To let you sleep. You were tired, exhausted.

Then suddenly you were filled with pain, every single nerve in your body imploding in on itself before splattering out in multiple instances of fire and burning ash. It got so bad, it felt so terrible, it stabbed your very soul for so long… You thought there was no end to it. Maybe this would be the rest of your life, just pure pain. Nothing but pain and loud voices - what an awful existence. What a terrible way to live. Were you even living anymore? You didn’t feel like you were. What kind of God would allow you to suffer so long while still alive?

Was this hell?

Finally, the beeping became too much to handle, and your eyes flashed open, your lungs inhaling oxygen as if they’d been suffocated for weeks. You blinked a few times, trying to understand what it was you were looking at, what it was you were feeling pulling at the entirety of your body.

You were in a hospital. A bed. You were the patient. It was dim in your room, the rising sun’s orange rays bathing your hospital room in visual fire. There was someone in the room with you, someone leaning their head on the bed, someone sleeping just a few inches from where you’d been. Without moving too much, knowing there’d only be more pain if you did, you looked over to see a boy. Young. High school. Jet black hair falling on his forehead, a blond streak being the only spot of color in all the black. You briefly wondered if he dyed his hair or if it was just a genetic thing. His expression was a mix of anguish and worry, and you wanted to reach out and stroke his face, wanted to stroke his eyebrows smoothed so he didn’t get any wrinkles. His face was too delicate to have something like worry lines marring it.

But you must have moved too much because suddenly his eyes snapped open, staring up at you before widening and his mouth tugging at the corners into a wide smile.

“______! Oh my God! You’re okay! You’re awake!!” He reached forward and wrapped his arms around you as best he could so as not to pull on or mess up any of the equipment you were hooked up to. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to me to get a nurse?” He asked, his voice showing his relief at your well being, “Oh thank God.” He sighed, pressing his lips to the side of your head and closing his eyes.

You felt awkward, reaching one hand behind him and patting his back soothingly but mechanically. You cleared your throat and he pulled back from you, his eyebrows furrowing again in confusion at your reaction to his affection - his relieved affection at that. “I’m sorry…. This is terribly embarrassing…” You blushed a bit, looking down at the needle in your arm, keeping you hooked to an IV bag just off to the side. “Um… But… Who are you?”

Nishinoya’s eyes dimmed, his heart breaking in his chest.

This was definitely hell.

Oikawa Tooru:

“Tooru! You need to take it easy! You’re going to end up damaging you knee so much you’ll be in a walker by the time you hit 40!” You pleaded with your stubborn boyfriend, watching as he limped over to the front door, grabbing his coat. The two of you had been at this time and time again, always fighting about his safety, his health, his knee. You’d been there for his accident, when his knee had connected so hard with the polished wood during a game you could hear his bones clack together above all the noise of the gym. The doctors deemed it a career ender, something he’d never be able to play with anymore, but Oikawa was…. well, he was Oikawa. Stubborn as hell.

“I’m fine, _____-chan! Nothing a little icy hot won’t fix.” He assured, brushing off your concern once again. You huffed and walked over to stand just behind him, and you could see his shoulders set firmly, He was ready to fight you on this again. Again. And he would continue to fight you on the subject, no matter how stupid he was being or how repetitive it got. “Seriously, _____-chan, you don’t have to worry about me so much~. I’m fine.” He tried to assure you again, but the serious look in your eye gave him chills. “Come on, Iwa-chan is waiting for us with Makki and Mattsun!” While Oikawa was many things, a sweet talker being one of the many skills he possessed, he’d never been able to completely convince you to let go of a subject.

Your hands clenched by your sides, “Tooru.. Seriously…. You only get two knees… One’s already busted really bad and the other… You’re putting too much pressure on your legs by walking around while wounded…” But he only pulled his coat and scarf closer to his neck and chin before walking out of the house in front of you. “Tooru!” You yelled, surprised he’d just ignore you like that and take off without you. You quickly pulled on your shoes and jacket before rushing after him, grabbing his coat and tugging him to a stop, “Why aren’t you letting me help you? That’s all I’m asking of you, Tooru…. Just let me help you. You let everyone lean on you for everything - for games, for support and foundation, for guidance… And as annoying as you are, everything you do is greatly appreciated by those who receive that help…. But that leaves you wide open for your own faults and misleadings…” You tugged his jacket again, “Tooru… Just let me be your support. Let me help you. Lean on me.”

Oikawa froze, his eyes staring ahead of him at the sidewalk on the other side of the road, wanting so badly to just run away from the situation. He rarely let down his guard, rarely pulled down his walls for you to see him as he truly was. But somehow you always found your way in regardless if he was willing or not. You were there. Through everything. From the moment he found out his knee was going to be ruined forever, to now when he’s feeling the ebbing pain of that same knee coursing through his bones. He knew you were right, and he wanted so badly to lean on you for support. But he was scared. Oikawa Tooru, the grand king of Seijoh was nothing more than a scared baby.

Taking a deep breath, Oikawa allowed himself to nod, looking down at his shoes in shame for wanting to run away so easily. He bit his bottom lip and turned his body to be able to see you a bit more clearly, hoping you didn’t see the way tears were starting to brew in his light brown eyes. You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. You’d never wanted to hurt him, never wanted to make him cry, but you had to be rough with him to show him his ways, to show him that he wasn’t alone. Just like in his games, he wasn’t alone off the court. You reached up and stroked his cheek gently, “Don’t cry, Tooru…. I’m here…” You smiled gently, leaning on your toes before kissing a tear away from the corner of his eye before it was able to trail down his cheek.

He sniffled, reaching up and wiping his tears away furiously, “Aw, _____-chan~, you think I was crying? There’s no way~ I’d ever cry in public~.” His voice broke a bit and you giggled at the way his eyes widened just the tiniest in embarrassment. He cleared his throat a bit rougher than usual and took your hand in his, pulling you towards the walkway between the sidewalks of the road, “Come now, _____-chan~ we can grab a knee brace for me before meeting with our wonderful friends!” He reached up again and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, his focus being on trying to look good in public… and not on the road he was crossing.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’d reached out and pushed Oikawa out of the way, just barely catching a glimpse of him falling before your body collided with a car running the light you were crossing at. The front bumper hit your legs first, causing your body to crumple into the windshield of the car, creating a spiders web of shattered glass before you were flying over the roof of the car and landing on the hard, wet asphalt of the street. You laid there, barely finding any strength to keep your eyes open, not even being able to feel your body - your mind was shielding you from that pain, and you weren’t sure if you were grateful or if you should be panicking at the fact. But you didn’t have much time to think about it before your vision was obscured by soft chestnut hair.

Oikawa was there, his hands shaking as they hovered over your limp body, he leaned his head down to just barely rest against your chest, trying to find a heartbeat. It was there, but it was very faint, weak. He cupped your face in his hands, “______!______! Can you hear me? Please… Oh god…. Please be…. Look at me, _____… Can you see me?” He called to you, the panic in his voice was clearly evident, and the sound of his voice was actually lost to you. There was a deafening ringing in your ears, but you could just make out that he was calling your name, over and over, like a mantra, like a prayer. Oikawa looked up from your fading existence, “Someone! Anyone! Please! Call 911!! Call an ambulance!” He begged, seeing a few people already on the phone with the authorities. The driver of the car had, thankfully, stopped, and was just to the right of Oikawa, waiting to see if he’d be charged with vehicular manslaughter.

He was babbling now, and you just stared at him blankly, almost completely forgetting you’d been hit by a car not but a few second ago. You felt numb, like you weren’t even in your body anymore; Almost as if the force of the car hitting you had caused your spirit to be forcefully removed from your body.

“No…. No! ______! Don’t close your eyes! Look at me! Wake up!” You could feel more than hear Oikawa’s sobs, the jagged breaths felt like something was constricting your chest, his tears falling on your face felt like something was stabbing into your very soul over and over again. Closing your eyes hadn’t been your choice, it’d just happened, and suddenly you weren’t there in the moment anymore.

You didn’t know where you were. There was nothing. Pitch black. In this darkness, you didn’t even have a body, or maybe you did but it was just too dark to see. You felt like you were wandering, as best as you could feel in this void of silence; You were looking for something, something to end this maddening darkness. But there wasn’t anything to look for. Just the void. Never ending. Unforgiving. Unyielding in it’s torment on your mind. You couldn’t remember how you’d gotten there. Couldn’t even remember if there was anything to remember before this. Maybe this is just how your life had been. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. A void. Nothing but the void.

You stopped searching. You stopped looking. Instead…. You allowed the void to envelope you, and pull you further into it’s recesses of complete emptiness.

The feeling of falling caused Oikawa to jump out of his shallow slumber, and he looked around the room quickly before seeing Iwaizumi in the doorway. He looked exhausted. But Oikawa looked worse. He knew.

“…. it’s been…. 4 weeks… Hajime…” Oikawa croaked out, staring at your limp body in the hospital bed, hooked up to all these machines to keep you alive, to breathe for you, to make your heart continue to beat. He sniffled, reaching up and rubbing at the ghost tears, he hadn’t been able to actually cry in 2 weeks - he barely had enough water in his system to pee every day let alone allow himself to produce tears. “Wha…. What if she doesn’t wake up? What am I going to do?” Hesitantly, Oikawa reached out and took your too cold hand in his own, trying to warm it back to a comforting temperature but soon realizing he wouldn’t be able to; his own blood had started to run cold the moment the doctor informed him of your condition.

Iwaizumi felt a knot in his throat, something restraining him from telling his best friend the bad news. Not wanting to break the man even more than he already was. He looked down at the linoleum floor of the hospital room, “I…. I don’t know… Tooru…” He finally got out, taking a deep breath, gathering his strength before he was actually able to look at you. Well, what was once you. “Tooru… Um…” He cleared his throat, and looked away from your hospital bed, looked away from his best friends hopeless love. “T-The doctor told me… What he’d told you… About…. Pulling the plu-“

“NO!” Oikawa yelled, not even looking at Iwaizumi, not daring to take his eyes off your ‘sleeping’ face. “No… Please…. They can’t…. I won’t let them…” He sniffled, his voice becoming thin as his throat closed at the thought of losing you forever. “She’s going to be okay… She’s going to wake up, and she’s going to be alright.” Oikawa sobbed out, feeling his already broken heart shattering even further into tinier pieces than before. “Please… Don’t take her from me…. I love her… I believe in miracles, and if there is a God….. He’d see how much I need her in my life, how much I love her…. How I can’t function without her here with me….” His hands held your one tighter, like he was holding onto a lifeline on the brink of drowning, “Please…. Come back to me, ______.”

[bornasghosts7165]

All I Want: Part 12

Previous Part

You were in a mood. Louis confrontation with Liam, and what followed had exacerbated that mood. This tour was supposed to be about reconnecting with Harry after being away from him for a while, but you felt like you had hardly seen him. Not only that, he was acting like a weirdo about Liam being around and your panic attacks. Or rather, his lack of reaction was weird and throwing you off. Did he really want to know nothing, or was he testing you? It kind of felt like this whole thing was a dream or a tv show. Does this sort of stuff happen to anyone else or are you the only one unlucky enough to be trapped on a tour for several months with your boyfriend and your ex? Luckily for you the show would be starting soon, which meant everyone would be too busy working to stress you out even more.

You stood at the wing of the stage sorting out all your lenses and cameras. It soothed you to be putting together your camera as everything else seemed to be falling apart. It was one of the things you loved about tour. At first you just felt like you fit so well, like this was your calling. After stumbling around in your small town with Liam and Louis you had finally gotten out and found what you were supposed to be doing. Then, when you and Liam began arguing it was like your escape. Slowly, home began to feel like work, and work began to feel like home. The only problem was that Liam, who had been your home for your entire life, never got acquainted with your new home. Your relationship never made the jump from one stage of your life to the next.

“There’s my girl.” Harry said, as he put in his in-ears.

“Hey, I’ve barely seen you today.” You say.

“First day-“

“Is a marathon.” You interrupt. “Not my first rodeo.”

Harry smiles. “Well, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You reply. “Do you have time to talk later? After the show?”

“Yeah,” He answers. “Everything alright?”

You weren’t going to give up on talking to Harry about everything. Telling Louis proved to be an epic fail. You honestly thought you would have been better telling Maddie. She at least would have understood the emotional aspect of everything, unlike Louis who went straight into angry protective mode. You probably should have seen that coming given had protective Louis had been in the past, but you thought he would at least listen to what you had to say before going straight to the source. Furthermore, Louis hadn’t spoken to Liam directly in years, and you didn’t expect him to hop to and attack Liam like that. You imagined something much more civil in your head, but apparently, that was just wishful thinking. Hopefully your conversation with Harry would be tamer.  

“(Y/N)?” Harry asked.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” He repeats. “You seem…stressed.”

“You could say that.” You reply. “I had another talk with Liam.”

“Oh,” Harry said in surprise. “I assume it didn’t go well?”

“It didn’t really go.” You reply. “I still don’t know what to think.”

“Oh.” Harry said.

You couldn’t tell what Harry thought about you talking to Liam. He hasn’t said anything about how he feels about Liam being around because he hasn’t said much of anything on the subject. You could see the wheels in his head turning, but what they were producing was a mystery. Was he uncomfortable with it? Did he want to know what you had talked about? Was he at all curious about the past? Usually you knew exactly what Harry was thinking, and in his efforts not to let Liam’s presence cause a divide between the two of you, you were beginning to feel like you were in this alone. This don’t ask don’t tell thing that you and Harry had going needed to end soon or else you would probably have some sort of mental break down.

“I really need to talk to you about this stuff Harry.” You tell him. “I know you don’t want to know, but I need you to know. I feel like there’s this big thing between us and I don’t like it.”

“Okay.” Harry says, and gently takes your hand. “After the show.”

“Okay.” You nod.

“It’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere, (Y/N).” Harry assures you. “It’ll take more than an ex-boyfriend to scare me away.”

You smile slightly.

“Okay, now go be a rock star so I can do my job.” You say as you pick up your camera.

  “You got it.” Harry said.

He pulled you close and kissed you sweetly on the lips.

“Only get my good side.” He tells you.

“I’m I supposed to say that they’re all good?” You joke, and give him another kiss. “Break a leg!”

 Harry was, as usual, on fire that night. He always had so much energy on the first show of each leg. Like the week away he had gotten the touring itch all over again and all he wanted to do was be on stage. Harry loved touring just as much as you did. It was both of your passions, which worked well for you. There was never auguring about how long you’d been apart. You both understood that sometimes you both just needed to get away and do the things you loved. And when you finally came back you had stories to share and the heart had grown fonder. The fact that you got to do those things together every once in a while, made the separation all worthwhile. You loved taking pictures, but taking pictures of Harry was something special.

Having the camera in your hands, and your finger of the clicker calmed you down. Despite the craziness involved in putting on a show, and the screams from thousands of fans you never felt more relaxed and at peace as you were when working. Nothing was in your brain except how to get the best shot. It was like your thoughts about Liam, and Louis, and Harry were contained and put into a special part of your brain to be entered after the show. You hurried around the stage, making sure not to get in the way, and contorted your body into the weirdest positions to make sure every picture was unique, and something you would be proud of. Before you knew it, you had taken a million pictures, and the show was nearly over. You wanted to keep taking pictures forever, but you wanted to be finished before the end of the show so you and Harry could talk right away. As you stand backstage by the wings, Maddie comes up behind you.

“Hey, first show seems to be a success.” She says.

“Yeah, he’s killing it.” You agree.

“You seem to be in a good mood.” Maddie points out.

“My camera is like my therapist.” You reply.

“Yeah, you’ve certainly been dealing with a lot.” She says.

“Uh, yeah.” You say, sensing her weird energy. “Are you okay?”

“I heard about the fight between Louis and Liam.” She tells you, in her ‘I’m in charge’ voice.

“It was hardly a fight. Louis just got a little worked up.”

“So, it’s not going to happen again?”

You honestly didn’t know. Louis didn’t seem like he got it out of his system, but Liam didn’t seem like he was going to engage. Honestly, it seemed like he didn’t want to talk to anyone except for you and the crew out of necessity. But, if Louis came at him hard again there was no way Liam would be able to back down. And if you and Liam started having actual conversations that weren’t cryptic and private Louis would probably step in. There was no telling what Harry would do once he allowed you to tell him anything. If you were honest, another ‘fight’ could break out at any moment if the situation wasn’t handled properly.

“Is there a problem?” You ask.

“Yeah, him being here, and having arguments with you and Louis is making everyone move just a little bit slower. You’re all on edge.” Maddie tells you.

“It was like a two minute conversation.” You tell her.

“Which everyone stopped to watch. So, what about when we’re at the end of the tour, and everyone is way past ready to go home, and wanting to kill each other. What kind of conversation will that be?” Maddie counters.

“Where is this coming from?”

Before Maddie was just worried about your well-being in this mess, but now it seemed like she was more concerned about the state of the tour. Which was fine, because she was in charge of the tour and if anything went wrong it was on her. But you hardly thought there was need to panic just yet. Yes, you were a bit of a mess, but that mess was happening in your head. Did Maddie see something that you weren’t seeing? You honestly didn’t notice people stopping to watch, probably because you were trying to make sure Louis didn’t take it upon himself to spill your secrets. Maybe this was causing more of a problem than you thought.

“I was watching that argument, and I heard a bit of the conversation you had on the bus.” Maddie yells you.

“And?”

“I think that argument was only the beginning and for some reason you won’t let me just give him the boot. What’s the deal with him, (Y/N). Why is everything so intense with him?” Maddie tells you.

“I don’t know! He’s being vague and I don’t know how to talk to him.” You confess. “I don’t want to get too close. I don’t know why he’s here, or what he wants.”

“Well, you should figure it out fast before the tour implodes on itself.” Maddie tells you.

“Thanks for the friendly concern.” You say, taken aback by her extremely stance on Liam being on the tour.

“I’m worried about you too. I’m being like this not only for the sake of the tour, but also for your sanity. You won’t talk to me. You won’t talk to Louis. You need to get through this, because I know that if you let yourself get too engrossed in it and it ruins the tour you would never forgive yourself.” Maddie tells you in a less harsh tone. “I don’t want to see you upset over something that could have been prevented.”

“I’m not going to let that happen, Maddie.” You assure her. “I’m thinking through somethings. Harry and I are going to talk about it right after the show. I have it covered, trust me.”

Maddie stood silent for a moment trying to decide if she could trust you with this. You knew you needed to get to the bottom of Liam being here and make sure he knew that it didn’t mean anything. You knew you needed to make sure you and Harry were on the same page. Maddie, despite her aggressive approach, was right; you couldn’t keep letting things build up. It was time to get things in the opened.

“Hey!” Harry shouted as he jogged off the stage. He wraps you up in his arms and gives you a million tiny kisses.

“Hey!” You say. “You were amazing. Great first show!”

“I’m always better when I have my love on the stage with me.” Harry says and gives you one last kiss. “I’m going to go clean up and then we can talk, okay?”

“Okay.” You reply.

Harry scurries off leaving you and Maddie alone again.

“See, I’m dealing with it.” You say.

“Good.” Maddie replies. “One step at a time, okay. And then we can get through the hard part and have some fun.”

“Ugh, yes please. Some fun would be nice.” You say. You take a deep breath before you go and talk with Harry, you were anxious about this the whole day and now it was finally here. It was time to get some stuff off your chest. “Wish me luck.”

[afoolsingenuity]

Looking Forward // March 2017

Looking Forward is a feature where I get to take a look at the books I am most excited to be released each month. The books I cannot wait to start reading and want to remind you all about being released. It’s really a kind of torture because I am meant to be employing a spending ban and I can’t quite help but sneak a book into my basket when I do this post because I forger how many good books get released each month! This month’s collection is very YA heavy (when is it not?) and features a couple of my most anticipated reads.

The Song Rising (The Bone Season #3) – Samantha Shannon

Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult

Release Date: 7th March 2017

You’re Welcome, Universe – Whitney Gardner

Genre: Contemporary, Young Adult

Release Date: 7th March 2017

Following a bloody battle against foes on every side, Paige Mahoney has risen to the dangerous position of Underqueen, ruling over London's criminal population.

But, having turned her back on Jaxon Hall and with vengeful enemies still at large, the task of stabilizing the fractured underworld has never seemed so challenging.

Little does Paige know that her reign may be cut short by the introduction of Senshield, a deadly technology that spells doom for the clairvoyant community and the world as they know it . . .

A vibrant, edgy, fresh new YA voice for fans of More Happy Than Not and Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, packed with interior graffiti.

When Julia finds a slur about her best friend scrawled across the back of the Kingston School for the Deaf, she covers it up with a beautiful (albeit illegal) graffiti mural.

Her supposed best friend snitches, the principal expels her, and her two mothers set Julia up with a one-way ticket to a “mainstream” school in the suburbs, where she’s treated like an outcast as the only deaf student. The last thing she has left is her art, and not even Banksy himself could convince her to give that up.

Out in the ’burbs, Julia paints anywhere she can, eager to claim some turf of her own. But Julia soon learns that she might not be the only vandal in town. Someone is adding to her tags, making them better, showing off—and showing Julia up in the process. She expected her art might get painted over by cops. But she never imagined getting dragged into a full-blown graffiti war.

Told with wit and grit by debut author Whitney Gardner, who also provides gorgeous interior illustrations of Julia’s graffiti tags, You’re Welcome, Universe introduces audiences to a one-of-a-kind protagonist who is unabashedly herself no matter what life throws in her way.

Why Am I Excited?

I have been excited about this book since finishing The Mime Order when that was released. I mean, I have been excited about reading this series ever since I read The Bone Season. It’s just a really interesting fantasy series and one which I can see getting better and better with each book. I remember rolling my eyes at the 7 book series when it first was released but was intrigued like all the rest and I have to say I don’t regret buying that first book in the slightest, even if I am being forced to buy the special edition covers so my book collection will match.

Why Am I Excited?

I had never heard of this author or this book until there was a post at New Year on Pop Goes The Reader by Whitney Gardner and the artwork and the story was just perfect and I knew I wanted to read whatever she had written so hearing that she had this book coming out I knew I needed to get my hands on it. It was nothing to do with the fact it ticks all the diversity boxes (it does and I love that) but it was simply the fact that the author had such a unique voice and I wanted more so the fact she also writes books which are diverse and interesting is just a plus for me.

The Bone Witch – Rin Chupeco

Genre: Fantasy, Paranormal, Young Adult

Release Date: 7th March 2017

Queen of the Geeks – Jen Wilde

Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary

Release Date: 14th March 2017

The beast raged; it punctured the air with its spite. But the girl was fiercer.

Tea is different from the other witches in her family. Her gift for necromancy makes her a bone witch, who are feared and ostracized in the kingdom. For theirs is a powerful, elemental magic that can reach beyond the boundaries of the living—and of the human.

Great power comes at a price, forcing Tea to leave her homeland to train under the guidance of an older, wiser bone witch. There, Tea puts all of her energy into becoming an asha, learning to control her elemental magic and those beasts who will submit by no other force. And Tea must be strong—stronger than she even believes possible. Because war is brewing in the eight kingdoms, war that will threaten the sovereignty of her homeland…and threaten the very survival of those she loves.

When BFFs Charlie, Taylor and Jamie go to SupaCon, they know it’s going to be a blast. What they don’t expect is for it to change their lives forever.

Charlie likes to stand out. SupaCon is her chance to show fans she’s over her public breakup with co-star, Jason Ryan. When Alyssa Huntington arrives as a surprise guest, it seems Charlie’s long-time crush on her isn’t as one-sided as she thought.

While Charlie dodges questions about her personal life, Taylor starts asking questions about her own.

Taylor likes to blend in. Her brain is wired differently, making her fear change. And there’s one thing in her life she knows will never change: her friendship with Jamie—no matter how much she may secretly want it to. But when she hears about the Queen Firestone SupaFan Contest, she starts to rethink her rules on playing it safe.

Why Am I Excited?

I’m pretty sure I saw the cover and then the word witches in the summary and decided it was a must read for me. Thankfully, when I went back and read the summary in full I knew it sounded like a good book, but the cover was mostly to blame.

Why Am I Excited?

It’s another case of the cover getting me first, I mean pink hair! It’s little things like that which get me. The book itself totally feeds into the fangirl in me though, it’s another book set at a convention (I need to read Unconventional!) and it just makes me want to read. I’ve not heard much about it yet but I hope to read it at some point this year.

Madly (New York #2) – Ruthie Knox

Genre: Romance, Contemporary

Release Date: 14th March 2017

Strange the Dreamer (Strange the Dreamer #1) – Laini Taylor

Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult

Release Date: 28th March 2017

An impulsive trip to New York City, a heartthrob from London, and a scandalous to-do list turn a small-town girl’s life upside down in this sultry romance from the New York Times bestselling author of Truly and About Last Night.

Allie Fredericks isn’t supposed to be in Manhattan, hiding in the darkest corner of a hip bar, spying on her own mother—who’s flirting with a man who’s definitely not Allie’s father. Allie’s supposed to be in Wisconsin, planning her parents’ milestone anniversary party. Then Winston Chamberlain walks through the door, with his tailored suit, British accent, and gorgeous eyes, and Allie’s strange mission goes truly sideways.

Winston doesn’t do messy. But after a pretty stranger ropes him into her ridiculous family drama with a fake kiss that gets a little too real, he finds out that messy can be fun. Maybe even a little addicting. And as the night grows longer, Allie and Winston make a list of other wild things they could do together—and what seems like a mismatch leads to a genuine connection. But can their relationship survive as their real lives implode just outside the bedroom door?

A new epic fantasy by National Book Award finalist and New York Times bestselling author Laini Taylor of the Daughter of Smoke & Bone trilogy.

The dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around— and Lazlo Strange, war orphan and junior librarian, has always feared that his dream chose poorly. Since he was five years old he's been obsessed with the mythic lost city of Weep, but it would take someone bolder than he to cross half the world in search of it. Then a stunning opportunity presents itself, in the person of a hero called the Godslayer and a band of legendary warriors, and he has to seize his chance to lose his dream forever.

What happened in Weep two hundred years ago to cut it off from the rest of the world? What exactly did the Godslayer slay that went by the name of god? And what is the mysterious problem he now seeks help in solving?

The answers await in Weep, but so do more mysteries—including the blue-skinned goddess who appears in Lazlo's dreams. How did he dream her before he knew she existed? and if all the gods are dead, why does she seem so real?

In this sweeping and breathtaking new novel by National Book Award finalist Laini Taylor, author of the New York Times bestselling Daughter of Smoke & Bone trilogy, the shadow of the past is as real as the ghosts who haunt the citadel of murdered gods. Fall into a mythical world of dread and wonder, moths and nightmares, love and carnage. Welcome to Weep.

Why Am I Excited?

I wanted to read this because of Nick (like so many of my books) but I wanted to read even more after I bought Truly after realising this wasn’t out yet! Truly was a fantastic romance read. It was perfect for me at the moment of reading and is a book I could see myself reading again. I really liked the characters and the story and the setting and so I’m thrilled to read about another of the characters in this book. I have pre-ordered and I will hopefully read not long after it’s release.

Why Am I Excited?

I was a massive fan of Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone series (why have I not reread that lately?) and have been waiting something new from her for so long. It may be one of my most anticipated reads of the year and so I cannot wait for it to be out at the end of the month. I have my copy pre-ordered I will happily take the day off of work to read this. I need it in my life ASAP.

We all have books we look forward to, what are your most anticipated reads of March? Are there any I’m missing or have you been lucky enough to read any of these already and want to convince me to buy?

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