#and my brain is just running slower since i only got ~4 hours of sleep last night

[dimonds456]

man disability(s) got hands today

[vintagedolan]

mixtape - track eleven

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I was hiding from myself too. I was hiding from the part of my brain that was like ‘what are you gonna do now?’. Like, there’s a part of your brain that does thrive off of feeling like shit.

The voice shifted, just for a moment. 

Yea-

It was a tiny sound in the back, from behind the camera. It didn’t even form a full word before Ethan continued talking, but Indy flinched anyway. It was always worse when she was unprepared for it. 

In her distraction, she’d streaked her concealer too far past her eye and sighed, using her finger to pat it in, ignoring the way it splotched. It probably wasn’t the right shade, and it was definitely expired, but it was enough for her to look like maybe she had slept in the last two weeks. 

She hadn’t. Not really. Every time she closed her eyes, even to blink, he was there. Sometimes, she welcomed it. But in that moment, standing in her mirror in her scrubs, she didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t want to hear his voice. Because she had to keep it together for 16 hours. 12 hours at the hospital on the peds floor, and another 4 at her shift at Jet’s afterward. So she kept her eyes open, took a deep breath, and walked out of her bathroom.

On the other side of the country, Grayson’s eyes were closed.

He wasn’t sleeping. It was 4 in the afternoon, which was the earliest time he could consider himself done with work for the day and escape to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. It only got down to the high forties in LA, even in January, but he climbed under his comforter anyways, pulled his baby blanket up by his face. 

Time seemed to crawl by while he lay there alone. He rolled to his side, pulling his pillow down to wrap his arms around it, and when he opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. On his nightstand, turned towards him, was the frame that Indy had gotten him for Christmas. He wished she hadn’t curled up so much when he’d taken it. He wished he could see her face more in the glossy material, wished she had given him a picture of just her instead. When he squeezed his eyes shut again he could see her face better, every feature committed to memory. So he looked. He focused on the different shades of blue in her eyes and pretended like she was in class, and that he was on her couch waiting for her to come home. 

A knock sounded on his door, and his heart tightened. 

Ethan stepped in the room with a bag of Monty’s and a hopeful smile. 

Grayson didn’t move.

“I brought you dinner.”

Nothing.

Ethan sighed, dropping the act. He was giving up on it earlier and earlier these days.

“Bro, you’ve gotta eat. You didn’t eat lunch.”

“Not hungry.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, tough shit then, cause I’m not leaving you alone until you eat at least some of this.” 

Grayson knew his brother, better than he knew himself sometimes, and he could tell by his tone that he was serious. He didn’t have the energy for a fight, and despite himself, his stomach growled at the smell of the fries in the bag, salty and warm. So he sat up begrudgingly and let Ethan pass him the bag, pretending not to see how his shoulders slumped in relief. 

He didn’t have to ask why Ethan stayed. It was to make sure he didn’t sit the bag down as soon as he closed the door behind him. So he waited, and he watched his brother eat his burger slower than usual, fighting to chew it and force it down.

“Where’s yours?” He asked eventually - he knew better than to think that Ethan hadn’t gotten himself a burger. 

“I uh… I ate with Eden.”

Grayson stopped chewing. His question was blatant in his eyes, and he waited for the answer.

“No, I didn’t fucking tell her,” Ethan grumbled, running his hand over his face. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m fucking lying to her.”

“Did she ask about… her?” He caught himself. He hadn’t said her name since they left New York. 

“Not yet. She knows something is up with you though, and if she starts asking questions I’m telling her.”

“No.” It wasn’t a plea. It was a demand. 

“Grayson. She’s gonna find out eventually, I gotta tell her.”

“No. Twin code.”

“Don’t pull that shit man, c’mon, we aren’t six anymore. That’s my wife, and she’s gonna be pissed as fuck at me. If you don’t tell her, I’m gonna have to.”

Grayson stayed quiet and put the rest of his burger back in the bag, his small appetite fading to nausea at the thought of having to admit to anyone else what he had done. He hadn’t had to explain it yet - Ethan knew enough to put the pieces together, and he had enough heart to stay quiet on the plane, just passing over his napkin from his drink as an extra tissue while Grayson looked out the window and cried quietly. But he wasn’t going to tell Eden - he wasn’t ready for that.

Ethan sighed. “I’m just saying Gray, she’s gonna start asking me questions, and I’m not gonna lie to her, that’s not me. That’s not either of us.” He paused, hoping for a response he knew he wasn’t going to get. “Whatever. We have a meeting at 10 tomorrow.”

Ethan left the room in silence, and Grayson closed his eyes.

Indy’s struggled to keep hers open. It was almost 4 am the worst hours of her shift. She poured another cup of coffee from the nurses’ lounge, ignoring the fact that it was burnt as she sipped it down and willed herself to wake up. Part of her wished it was iced - warm drinks made her sleepy, and worse, reminded her of cold New Jersey mornings that she couldn’t afford to think of. Just the idea of reminiscing made her chest tighten enough for her to suck in a breath and start to search for a distraction. She read the schedule instead, checking to see what tech would replace her come 7 am. She still had two vital checks to do on each patient, opting to do them on the even hours. Her head tipped back as she drained the rest of her cup and tossed it in the trash, needing to keep her mind busy.

It wasn’t her job - only nurses could distribute meds, but she could prep the trays for the kids to make their lives easier. So she moved to the med cart and started to look through. 

“Adams, Adrian, Bellon, Campbell, Cortez, Jenkins, Kimp, Lopez, Mullins, Norton.” Her fingers stopped for a moment as she traced down the last names on the cart, mumbling them out. No Newcomb. She double-checked. Nothing.

Bekah didn’t have a tray. 

Indy’s heart sped up a bit, and she waited until she saw Ayria, one of the night shift nurses, coming out of a room.

“Hey, do you need me to get Newcomb a tray? Hers isn’t on here.” It felt weird to refer to Bekah by her last name, but she didn’t want to seem unprofessional.

Ayria frowned, coming to log into the computer on the med cart and check the charts. 

“Oh yeah, everything she’s getting is IV right now, no pills.”

Indy took a breath and steadied herself, glad to see that the clock had turned and she was able to make her rounds. She’d become an expert at taking vitals without waking the kids up - even some of the more seasoned nurses were impressed.

But she could never get past Beks.

The first day, during Indy’s orientation, Bekah could tell something was wrong. It was only three days after Grayson had left after all. Indiana knew that the floor needed a tech, and she knew they’d take her as soon as she asked. She also knew that if she let herself stay at home that she’d never leave it again. So she went and bought the cheapest scrubs she could find and mustered up enough energy to show up. 

She didn’t really need Ayria to show her around that day. She knew the unit inside and out from her time as a volunteer; she just needed the codes for the supply rooms and a list of her tasks for her 12-hour shift. But she was glad that they were together when they went into Bekah’s room because Bekah was kind enough not to say anything with someone else there. Now, she didn’t hold back.

“You look like shit,” she said as soon as Indy walked in.

“It’s 4 am, you should be asleep,” Indy countered with a smirk. The incident on Christmas was forgiven without a second thought, and she was relieved to be back to their normal banter as she put her blood pressure cuff on. 

“You should be asleep. This is your last shift of the week though.”

“Says who?”

“You’ve been here three days already, that’s the max you can work without overtime.” 

Indy kept quiet and wrote down her blood pressure in the chart. 

“Are you okay?” Bekah asked quietly, and Indy sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop the tears flooding her eyes.

“I’m fine Beks. Promise.”

Bekah contemplated if she should say it.

“Is it Grayson?”

Indy’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands shook as she held up the thermometer, and she had to blink hard to be able to read the numbers and scribble them down. 

Bekah took her silence as an answer. 

“Sorry. I know it must be hard, having him so far away,” she murmured. Indy couldn’t find her voice to tell her that it was okay. She fiddled with her blankets, tucking her in nicely and dimming her lights down to give her time to clear the knot in her throat.

“Get some sleep Beks.”

She held it together until she got outside her room, and then the tears escaped. As quickly as she could, she ducked her head and beelined for the nurses’ desk, using her oldest trick of drinking water to keep herself from fully breaking down. 

Valentina sat at her desk and watched with a frown, but she didn’t say anything. 

Indy gave herself one minute, and then she took a deep breath and got back to work. 

Time crawled, and she cursed herself for not leaving enough things to keep her busy for the rest of her shift. By 6 am, she’d resorted to cleaning the tables in the break room and reorganizing supplies in the supply closet to keep herself occupied. She knew the day shift nurses would appreciate the extra effort - they always sung her praises, thrilled to work a shift after her considering how well she set it up for them. 

Valentina came into the supply closet at 6:30.

“You might just work our daytime tech out of a job,” she said, making Indy jump and drop the bandages she was restocking.

“You scared me,” she said, catching her breath. “Just restocking.”

“You work too hard,” Valentina shook her head, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna burn yourself out sweetheart, and we need you around here.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You act like I don’t know you’re going to your other job right after this.”

“They give me good coffee there, what can I say,” Indy teased, but when she looked Valentina’s eyes were sad. “I like to keep busy.” 

“Too busy,” she tsked. “You leave at 6:50 today.”

“Valentina-”

“Keep talking and I’ll make it 6:40,” she threatened. “And you get some sleep later, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Indy conceded, knowing it wasn’t an argument she could win. Nurses weren’t the type to lose an argument, and she’d never met a more nurse-y nurse than Valentina. She finished stocking quickly, gathering her bags and double-checking she’d finished everything before she headed out, waving goodbye to the nurses she saw. 

She was distracted on her way out, and she didn’t think when she hit the button to get into the next hallway. 

For two weeks, she prepped. Mentally paused and thought of all the things that could hit her out of the blue, make her come unraveled. She was ready, for the couples in the street holding hands, for the husbands coming to walk their wives home from work, the high schoolers on hot chocolate dates in the big city. But it was always the small things that got her. 

She hadn’t prepared herself, and her eyes automatically went to the walls when she cleared the doors. The ocean mural. The jellyfish, the sea turtle on the wall that Grayson had said looked like Ethan once. It hit her like a ton of bricks, her chest so tight that she reached up to press on it as she heard his voice in her head. It made her feel pathetic, the way she had to stop and grab onto the rail in the hall and steady herself for a moment. She counted her breaths, trying her hardest to shut her mind off, staring at the blue of the walls as she willed herself to be okay, just for another day.

Grayson was staring at the water. Or at least, he was trying to. The moon wasn’t very bright, but it reflected enough off the ocean for him to get a sense of which way the sun would come up. The whole surface was washed black by the night sky, and it was peaceful. He wanted to swim in it. He wanted to sink beneath it and find that blissful quiet you could only find underwater. 

He’d fallen asleep soon after Ethan had left him alone, which meant he found himself wide awake at 4 am, body tired of being asleep. Sitting in bed would only make things worse, so he sent Ethan a quick text and headed off in the Porsche towards the secret beach. There was no one else there so early in the morning, and he was grateful. It gave him the peace of mind to curl in on himself, let the tears flow freely as the waves lapped at the shore, returning over and over. 

Time ran away from him in the dark. His tears ceased eventually, dried themselves out as he sat in his misery. He didn’t fight it. Instead, he let it wash over him, sink into every pore and weigh him down, wishing he could somehow disappear into the sand as the sun started to rise and wash the world in light orange. His phone buzzed, no doubt a text from his brother. He elected to ignore it, keeping his eyes on the water, counting the waves as they came in. It was admirable, the dedication they showed; returning every time they got sucked back out. 

At some point, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he sighed, pulling his hood up over his head in a feeble attempt to hide himself from whoever was watching him. He stood up and brushed the sand off himself, ducking his head down and jogging straight back to his car, hoping whoever it was wasn’t trying to come up to him. 

As soon as he ducked into his car and pulled the door shut, he sunk down, resting his forehead against his steering wheel. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his dashboard. His radio turned on with a jolt, connected to his phone and automatically starting his playlist. Cudi blared through the speakers and he groaned, hitting all the wrong buttons in an attempt to get it to turn off.

“Stop, fucking stop!” In a last attempt he chucked his phone across the car, watched it ricochet off the dash and down into the floorboard. He threw his car into reverse with blurry eyes, desperate to get away from anyone who might have a camera. He was paranoid the whole drive home that someone was watching, eyes darting to the windows of any car he ended up next to at a stoplight. It wasn’t until he got the gate closed behind him and he was in the house that he felt like he could breathe again. With Ethan still asleep down the hall, he choked back his sobs as he sat down at the counter, face in his hands. 

Indy was taking deep breaths behind the counter as the line started to pile up at Jet’s. She looked to her right, frowning at the stress on her new coworker, Mariposa’s, face as the cups continued to line up next to her. 

“Hey Posie,” she called over between customers. “Do you wanna switch?”

“God yes,” she exclaimed, rushing to take Indy’s place at the register so she could move over to the bar. 

Indiana preferred it that way. She didn’t have to smile for a latte, she just had to pour it and try not to burn her fingers and move on to the next. It had come back like second nature to her, and she liked the fast pace. It gave less time for her to think, and she welcomed the numbing repetition. She kept an ear piqued towards the register, listening to the orders coming in so she could get ahead. The next one came from a taller man, his face hidden behind a coat.

“Just give me the biggest cup of the strongest stuff you’ve got.”

Indy dropped her cup, a half poured latte splattering all over her hands first, down her apron, then the bottom of her jeans and onto her shoes. It only took one look over at the man to realize it wasn’t Grayson, and she deflated. 

“Shit,” she hissed, flicking her hands in an attempt to chill the burn that was already searing on her skin. She side-stepped to the sink, flipping the cold water on and letting it flow over her hands. It stung even more, and she sighed at the bright red of her skin. She’d had enough burns from her time as a barista to know that it would blister. 

“Indiana, you okay?” Patrick called from the ovens, moving a line of pastries in and out.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

He frowned, but kept quiet, letting her get back into the groove of making drinks. Indy could feel him watching her, the familiar weight of a protective eye over her shoulder. At least he was kind enough to wait until her shift was over before he tried to talk to her again.

“Hey, how’s your hand?” 

Indy looked down and sighed at the sight of her red skin, resisting the urge to rub it. Instead, she moved to the first aid kit and grabbed a wrap bandage. 

“It’s been better, but I’ll survive.”

“Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow,” Patrick suggested as casually as he could. “You know, to rest your hand.”

Indy scoffed.

“It’s not gonna fall off Patrick, I’m fine.”

He sighed. “Fine, if you’re gonna make me say it then I will. You’re a hard worker, one of the best we have, but you’re exhausted. We can all see it, and you don’t need to burn yourself out like this for a minimum wage job. So, you’re off tomorrow. No exceptions.”

“But-”

“No. Exceptions.” 

Her anger bubbled up in her like the blister forming on her thumb, but she knew it wasn’t Patrick’s fault. He was right - she was just upset at the idea of having an entire day with nothing to distract her. An empty apartment had never seemed so daunting, and it was all she could think about as she clocked out, got her things together, and walked home.

It was quieter than she’d imagined when she got through the door, the click of the latch echoing through the still space. She thought of turning on music, but that only made her think of Grayson, singing off-key next to her in the truck. She could put on a movie, but it would make her think of cuddling with him on the couch. Her bed was where he had been so many nights. He’d cooked in her kitchen, he’d helped her move furniture in the guest room. 

She couldn’t escape him, no matter where she went. And so, as pathetic as she felt doing it, she sunk down right there on the floor, and she let the misery have her. It came in broken sobs that caught on her throat on the way out, too loud even for her own ears as she tried to imagine a day where she didn’t feel like the world was crumbling around her. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. But eventually, the things no one ever talked about started to happen. Her butt went numb, and her head started to hurt, and her lips got dry from the saltwater that ran over them. None of that mattered though. What finally got her up from the cold floor was the fact that she was sticky - remnants of the vanilla syrup in the latte that she’d dropped finally congealing and making her feel more disgusting than the tears. She peeled herself up off the floor and headed to her bathroom.

Grayson was in the shower, with his head down, water splashing over his back and bouncing off his shoulders - a statue in the rain. It was the best place to avoid getting on his phone, considering he couldn’t, and that was the only way he could trust himself to not get on twitter and see the aftermath of the morning.

He wondered for a moment what he looked like from outside the glass shower door, standing there with his razor up by his chest. The blades clogged with the long hairs he shaved from his chest, leaving him bare and smoother than he’d been in months. He sat the razor down and moved to pick up a clear bottle from the shelf. Polis was scribbled on it in sharpie in Ethan’s handwriting, remnants of a Wakeheart meeting. Grayson could remember how excited he was to pitch the idea, even if it was over zoom. 

“I finally came up with the third body wash scent. Vanilla, with a hint of coffee and then a little bit of sandalwood to keep it professional and put together.” 

He’d had to whisper it - Indy was asleep in her room, the product of a good post study-session back rub that had lulled her into a much-needed nap. The team loved it, thought it complimented the other two scents they’d been testing well. Ethan was hesitant, but he kept his mouth shut and brainstormed a backup if needed.

Grayson was thankful for the gesture, even when he’d told him that he’d started planning it as early as he had. But he wasn’t willing to give it up, and he made it very clear in their first meeting back that Polis was a permanent scent. It felt like a tiny piece of her that he could hold onto. Still, as he stood there and held the bottle up to his nose, it wasn’t the same. As pitiful as it made him feel, he tried closing his eyes, tried to imagine she was there with him, standing in front of him, giggling like she always did when they showered together. 

He couldn’t do it justice. Couldn’t feel the warmth of her skin against his, couldn’t smell her shampoo or watch her try to bend over and shave her legs in her small apartment shower without bumping into him. He’d held her hips to help her keep her balance, listened to her laugh and talk about casual intimacy, heard the way it echoed off the tiles and became his favorite sound in the entire world. 

His tears mixed with the water, his pain palpable as he started to quiver just barely, the memory enough to break down the paper thin wall he’d managed to drag back up to protect himself. When his knees shook he gave up and sunk to the ground, green tiles of the bench seat icy against his back as he buried his face in his hands. He’d never felt weaker in his life, and he wished he was ten again, so his dad could wrap his strong arm around his shoulder and tell him that everything would be alright. 

He went for the next best thing once he managed to get enough energy to get up and turn the water off. A few swipes of his towel over his body and hair, then he pulled his boxers on and put on his robe, walking straight out of his room and down the hall.

Ethan’s door was open, but he wasn’t in his bed like Gray expected. He was at his desk instead, a look of stress on his face that Grayson was all too familiar with. A pang of guilt resonated in him when he realized what his brother was doing - picking up all the slack that he was leaving in his misery. 

He hadn’t said a word about it though, and that made it worse.

It took Ethan a moment to realize his brother was there, but as soon as he did he turned his desk chair, giving him his full attention.

“Hey.”

Grayson didn’t answer.

“You okay?” Ethan tried again. Grayson’s throat burned, and he shook his head, sitting on the end of the bed. He’d never been able to hide from Ethan, and luckily, he never really had to. Because Ethan was the type of brother to act tough when he needed to, but soften up at the smallest things. Which was why Grayson wasn’t surprised to see his brother rise up out of his chair, coming to sit next to him. The bed sunk down a bit with his weight, and Grayson let himself press up against his brother. The air felt heavy while he waited.

“You’re good. Just let it out.” Ethan’s voice was quiet, and he leaned his cheek against his brother’s head and felt him go to pieces. It was the hardest Grayson had cried since the airport, and every sniffle made his head pound but he couldn’t pull himself together. Those were the kind of moments where he wondered how people survived without twin brothers. He felt safe there with Ethan - if everything else fell apart, at least he’d have him. There were a million things he could say, but he already knew what the answers would be. Ethan would tell him that he’d find someone else some day, and that Indy would heal and that he shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what he did. He also knew that Ethan would say all of it even if he didn’t believe it, because their pain was shared.

Grayson cried himself out again after an hour or so, his sinuses pounding behind his eyes as the headache settled in. 

Ethan stayed still - he knew better than to leave him. It wasn’t until Grayson finally wiped at his eyes that his brother relaxed a bit, watched him stand up and run his hands over his face. It felt colder without Ethan right next to him, but he knew he needed to sleep. 

“Try to get some sleep,” Ethan echoed his thoughts. “We need to record the pod tonight if you can.”

“Okay. I can help with the emails, I know we probably have a shit ton.”

Ethan was already shaking his head before he finished.

“Just get some sleep, okay?”

Grayson nodded and gave him the best smile he could manage before he went back into his room, climbing back into the safety of his covers with his phone in his hand, just in case she called.

Indy’s pillow was wet. It was mainly from her hair soaking into the pillowcase - she didn’t have the energy to dry it after her shower. But she’d also made a terrible mistake. One scroll through the app store and a quick log in and she was back onto instagram, ignoring the now thousands of follow requests she had in her notifications. It only took one click to her explore page and her tears were adding to the moisture below her cheek. 

He had on his Cudi hoodie, the yellow one. She wished she’d been there to tell him not to wear it. It was too bright, a target for the cameras that seemed to find him. The first ones she saw stung. They were only of his back, taken from far enough away that she could pretend it was someone else. But she knew the way he sat, with his arms over his knees. 

The next ones hurt, because she could see his face. He was walking, and she knew him well enough to know he’d realized what was happening and tried to leave, just from his posture, the way he slumped while walking. His eyes were red, those dark circles that she’d ran her fingers over so many times worse than she’d ever seen them. Ever since he’d left, she’d wanted to know how he felt. If he missed her at all, if he was as miserable as she seemed to be every minute of every day.

It hurt worse to get her answer than it did to wonder. She’d hoped he was upset, but suddenly all she wanted to do was hold him, tell him it was okay, that she was okay even though she wasn’t. It was impossible not to scroll, looking for anything new, any hints as to what he had been up to since he’d gotten off that plane. 

She had never asked for a front row seat to his life, but she’d take it if it was the only glimpse of him that she could get. It made her feel pathetic, but she didn’t care enough to fight it.

Eventually, she found herself scrolling his page. She couldn’t tell how she got there, but she couldn’t seem to leave it either. So she just scrolled, averting her eyes from any comments, and pretending, just for a moment, that everything was back to the way it was. That he was just busy recording a podcast, or that he’d be sprawled out on her couch when she went out to the living room. 

She held onto it until she walked out of her room, knowing she needed to eat even though she didn’t want to. She kept her eyes off the couch, moving to her cabinets that were barren apart from a few avocados that were rotten. With a sigh she threw them in the trash that was close to overflowing, opting instead for the last box of mac and cheese she had left. 

Indy was thankful for muscle memory, her mind wandering off to better days where her kitchen wasn’t so quiet as she cooked the pasta she really didn’t want and took it back to her room, curling up under her covers as she ate.

Grayson had two empty boxes of vegan mac and cheese in front of him, one of which obviously had an ‘E’ scribbled on it that he’d ignored when he made them. He shoveled the noodles into his mouth, ignoring the way they burnt his tongue just barely. Ethan walked in and saw the boxes, opened his mouth and shut it again. 

“S’pod setup?” Grayson said around a mouthful.

“Yeah, I set up the pod, we’re good whenever you’re ready.”

“Gimminute.”

Ethan just chuckled and shook his head, happy to at least see his brother eating even if he was shoveling it down like he hadn’t seen food before. He waited, seeing that Gray was done within the next two minutes, sitting his bowl in the sink and stretching his arms out. He looked tired, but Ethan hoped the pod camera was far enough away from them to make the dark circles subtle enough. 

“Do you want some of my old concealer stuff? For under your eyes?”

Grayson hesitated for a moment, picking at his nails. “You still have it?” 

“Yeah, hang on.” Ethan ran to his bathroom, snagged the compact from his bottom drawer and brought it to the kitchen. “Come over here, you’re supposed to do it in natural light.”

He held it out for Grayson, who just looked up at him. 

“I don’t know how the fuck to do it, you do it.”

“Do I look like a makeup artist to you?” Ethan asked, and when Grayson stayed quiet, he sighed and flipped the compact open, swiping his finger through the semi-creamy substance and moving to pat it on his brother, frowning when it was more difficult than he thought it would be. “Look up you fuck, I gotta blend it.”

Grayson just rolled his eyes but did as he was told, sitting still until E said he was finished and led the way to the studio. They got settled in their chairs, double checking the camera angles. Ethan cleared his throat, waiting until his brother looked at him. 

“Are we… do you want to mention anything about…”

Grayson waited. He wondered if his brother was really going to be dumb enough to ask.

“Are we talking about the pictures, yes or no.”

“What the fuck do you think the answer to that is,” Gray grumbled.

“I’m just saying, if you mention it you can say what you want about it, get your own voice out there. Whatever you say, I’ll go along with it.”

“Great.”

Grayson took a deep breath, gave Ethan a look that read as an apology, and clicked the button to start recording. He stayed fairly quiet the first few minutes of the recording, waiting to jump into a conversation that didn’t make his throat tight. The podcast was his favorite place, because he could let himself actually speak, say what he wanted to say without worrying. 

It came back to bite him in the ass 45 minutes into the episode, when his guard was down and he had finally lost himself the way he did when he worked. They were talking about birds, and how they had a bad, unjustified rep. 

“I mean, Gizmo can be an asshole sometimes, but she’s only an asshole when people are like, scared of her,” Ethan mused. 

“Right! She gets all shy when I come home after a while, but when Dee came in the house the first time she was freaking out, just from hearing her and I swear, every time after that Giz just like, screamed every single time she was even in the house.”

“Gray-”

“No seriously! You remember how loud she got? Fuck, remember that time she went down to help mom with dessert and Giz was out and she cried?”

“Grayson.”

“What? Did I peak the mic?”

Ethan’s eyes were sad. “You… you said her name.”

“Huh?”

“Indiana. You said Dee, when you were telling that story.”

He swallowed hard. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He could see him spiraling, and he tried to reel him back in. “You’re okay. We can just cut it, and start again with a story about Gizmo.” 

“Yeah uh… just give me a second.”

“Sure. Whatever you need.”

“Just, uh, say what you said again before,” Grayson murmured, shaking his head to try and clear it. But it was too late - he was so consumed by what his mind had brought back to the surface that he could barely hear Ethan repeat his words.

“Yeah-” Grayson came in a moment late. “Giz is a special one.”

Ethan waited for him to continue, but jumped in when he didn’t. “She gets shy when you haven’t been home in a while and you show up. That’s the thing about animals dude, like people think about cats and dogs and they can recognize their emotions, but with stuff like birds and cows and shit, people just don’t think about them that way, and it fucking sucks. They have feelings too! Gizmo’s fucking sassy bro, she will let you know how she’s feeling, especially if she’s pissed. Bro, we should have Giz on the pod, do you think she’d talk? She can whistle, we could show off her tricks.”

“You can’t put a bird on a plane,” Grayson mumbled. His eyes were fixed down on the blue center of the table, and he was fidgeting with his sleeves.

“Yeah, but we can put the mics in our suitcases and just record at home.”

Ethan realized it a moment too late. He wanted to snatch his words out of the air, scratch them from the tape when he saw the way Grayson’s eyes met his, saw the gloss near his waterline. 

“Yeah - uh - um,” Grayson tried to save it, and then he covered his mouth, silencing the squeak that turned into a sob. He pretended it was a cough, bringing his hand up and running his fingers over his forehead, shielding his eyes from the camera.

“I uh, I miss home a lot more this time than I usually do,” he said, his voice froggy with the tightness of his throat. Ethan couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to say as he watched his brother fight and lose in his battle to keep his composure, covering his mouth as he cried, knuckles brushing up against the mic.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m sorry E.”

“It’s okay, hey, it’s okay.” Ethan was up so fast he forgot to take off his headphones. They fell back into the chair when they pulled off his ears as he moved to his brother, pulling him up into a hug. “We can finish it later, we’ll just cut to an ad or something. It’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“Shh. It’s fine bro, it’s fine. C’mon, let’s go get some air.” 

Air wasn’t what they found.

Instead, they found Eden, standing against the counter with her arms crossed in a way that had Ethan’s blood running cold. He thought the sight of Grayson practically curled in on himself might have softened her up, but she stood her ground until both of the twins were looking at her. 

Grayson knew that she knew, and she only confirmed it when she spoke.

“What. The fuck. Is wrong with you.” 

Back in New York, Indy’s phone was ringing. Or at least, she thought it was. But when she unlocked it and was blinded by the light, it was just her lockscreen, Grayson smiling at her with 3:04 written across the top. Judging by the darkness, she knew she hadn’t slept the afternoon away, but the buzzing continued until she finally climbed out of bed and realized it was the intercom system - the front desk calling her through the small phone on her wall that hardly ever rang. She pulled it off the receiver and held it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi Ms. Cross, there’s a gentleman here to see you.”

Her heart skipped, and she clutched the phone with both her hands.

“Who?”

There was a beat of silence, and Indy could vaguely hear her ask him for a name. 

“His name is Devin.” 

She sucked in a breath, letting her head and her hopes fall. 

“Send him up.” 

It took her a moment to process her grief before the panic set in. If Devin was showing up unannounced, something bad must have happened. She swung her door open, chewing on her nails as she stood in the doorway, waiting for him to appear. He came out of the elevator with a small duffle slung over his shoulder and a cautious smile that had her ready to cry.

“Dev, what the hell are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Charlie?”

“Also fine. We’re fine.”

She caught her breath, and then she was frowning. “If everything is fine, why the fuck are you here at 3am?”

“Because you haven’t answered your sister’s calls in a week, and she’s worried sick about you.”

Guilt panged in her stomach - she hadn’t meant to ignore her. In all honesty, she’d ignored everyone without realizing it. 

“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to. Just slipped my mind. Is she here too?”

“She’s got a wedding to shoot this weekend, and we only had one ticket anyways. Flight got delayed, tried to find a hotel for the night so I could wait until later this morning but I couldn’t find one so you’re stuck with me. Sorry,” he teased, reaching out to hold onto her shoulder. There was no malice in his voice, and Indy was grateful. “Let’s go inside.” 

He didn’t ask for it, but she made him a coffee anyways alongside her own. She was tired, her eyes burning, but it wasn’t anything new from the last few weeks. She fought it, pulling one of the few sweatshirts Grayson had left at her place over her head before she sat on the couch, waiting.

Devin was quiet, tapping his fingers against his mug, out of his element. 

“Dev.”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t fly to New York to drink coffee with me. Talk.”

He sighed, sitting his mug down on the coffee table and turning towards her.

“Inds, we’re worried about you.” 

Indy scoffed, a short, automatic sound. 

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. You really, really aren’t. You’re running yourself into the ground for no good reason.” 

“I’m trying to pay rent,” she countered, but even she knew it wasn’t true.

“Your hospital job pays more than rent. Jet’s is just because you’re scared to let your mind rest.”

Indy didn’t have an answer, so she sipped her coffee instead, cursing herself for telling Charlie everything in a moment of weakness. The silence was loud, and Devin sighed to break it after far too long.

“Have you talked to him? Since?”

Her throat was tight. “No.”

Devin wrung his hands together. “You do know it was fucked up what he did, right?”

“Dev-”

“I’m just making sure you know that. You can still make your own decision on however you wanna navigate it in the future, but you have to acknowledge that what he did was a new level of shitty. And he’s a good guy, I really do think he is, but he fucked you over, and you’re my family. And I protect my family. So I just need you to know that you didn’t deserve what he did to you, and he fucked up. Big time.” 

“Right.”

“Okay, good.”

She let him believe it, though she’d only said it to appease him. She wondered if he would feel differently, if he had seen. If he had felt, the way that Grayson had shook in her arms, the way his sobs seemed to be ripping him apart every moment that he was hurting her. She wanted to pull up her phone, show him the pictures from the beach, show him that he was hurting too, that he didn’t want to hurt her. She wanted to prove it to him.

“When does your semester start?” He asked, pulling her mind off of it. She swallowed hard, then took another drink of coffee. 

Indiana had spent three days in self pity when she got back from the airport. She let the misery have her fully - didn’t change her clothes, barely ate, hardly left her bedroom. And then, after that, she picked herself up and got to work. She applied for her tech job and called Patrick to see if she could get the schedules to align, and more importantly, she’d started to run numbers. 

Medical school. Just the application fees alone were going to hit her budget hard, so much so that she reduced it down to two. JCU, and UCLA. 

Her applications had gotten accepted three days prior, along with an email about a scholarship she was eligible for at UCLA that made it comparable to JCU’s tuition. But the money wasn’t the issue, and when it was time to accept, she knew that UCLA wouldn’t hold her spot forever.

She’d taken a deep breath, and emailed the registrar. 

“I deferred.”

She was embarrassed to say it outloud, and for some reason it was the brick of the dam that fell, and her tears began to flow. She felt Devin’s hand on her shoulder before he spoke.

“Good.”

She hadn’t expected him to be mean - in fact, the meanest thing she’d ever heard him say was what he’d just said about Grayson. But it still shocked her enough to have her frowning.

“Good?”

“Indy. Do you realize how long you’ve been a student? Do you know who you are outside of being one?”

“I-”

“You’re the smartest person I know, and I love you, but I think you need to take a step back and really look at what you’re doing. Take a semester, fuck, take a year. Live. Breathe. You’re already ahead, and you’ll still be ahead.”

“I’m not worried about being ahead, Dev,” she whispered, running her hands over her face.

“Then what are you worried about?” There was a sincerness in his voice, and a gentleness in the way he held her hand that made her cry even harder.

“I just don’t know what the fuck to do anymore,” she blubbered, grateful when he pulled her over to his chest in a hug. He let her cry it out for a while, waiting until she was calm enough to hear him.

“I don’t have the answer to that, but I say, ask yourself what you really want the rest of your life to look like, and then do whatever you have to to get there. If it’s being a doctor, great. If it’s not, great. Just as long as it’s what you want.”

She took a shaky breath in, and blew it out through her lips, simply giving him a nod.

The problem was, she knew exactly what she wanted - and he was off in Los Angeles, cowering behind his brother.

“Baby, woah, hey, take it easy,” Ethan cautioned, side stepping into the war path she’d outlined, headed straight for Grayson. Her eyes were fire when she looked at her boyfriend and raised an eyebrow.

“He’s having a rough night, just take it easy,” he added.

He stoked the flames.

“You know who else is probably having a rough fucking night? Indiana. And we are gonna talk later-” she poked a finger into Ethan’s chest - “but right now, I’m not talking to you so I suggest you get out of my way.” 

There was a bite in her tone that had Ethan rocking back on his heels, questioning just how far his duties as protective brother would go. He breathed out a sigh when he felt Grayson’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine E.” 

He’d never admit it, but Grayson had been waiting. Ever since he pulled away on New Year’s, he had waited for the punishment. The anger, the disbelief, the spite that he thought would arise in Indiana at the realization of what he’d done. 

It wasn’t until he got off the plane and into his room that he realized his true punishment would be the guilt, and the grief, and the realization that he’d pushed away the only future he’d ever truly known he wanted. 

The anger was a welcomed change.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck, Grayson.”

“I know.”

“I don’t say a lot of shit about a lot of shit, but whoever you decide to be with could possibly end up as part of my family, forever, so fuck me if I’m invested, and I think I deserve an explanation on why I just got a call from Charlie to see if I’d talked to Indy, cause she’s ‘really going through it’.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.” His eyes turned glossy, and Ethan stood up straighter.

“The fuck you didn’t,” she scoffed, running her hand through her hair to push her curls out of her face. “You realize how badly you fucked up, right? Right?”

“Yes.”

“And that you broke her heart right? Probably absolutely fucking destroyed her.”

“Eden-” Ethan spoke up.

“Yes,” Grayson answered, his chest tight. He wrapped his arms around himself, willed them to hold him together. It felt different, to have someone say it to him so directly, to confirm what he had done.  

“Then why? Just… why?”

“Long distance wouldn’t have worked, and I didn’t want -”

“Oh bullshit. No one would have tried harder than Indiana to make that work, you fucking know that.”

“She shouldn’t have to deal with that, with me being so far away -”

“God you fucking self-sacrificial fuck!” She yelled. “She loved you, you moron, and when you love someone, you give! You hit a crossroads, you sit down and have a fucking conversation, and you fucking give! That’s what a fucking real relationship looks like, not you deciding that you don’t deserve to be loved and running in the other fucking direction!” Her face was red when she stopped to catch her breath. Ethan looked just as shocked at the outburst as his brother. Her mind seemed to catch up to her ears, and she backtracked.

“Sorry, fuck, that was -”

“No, you're right. You’re right. Everything you said was fucking right,” Grayson didn’t even try to hide his tears. He blubbered into his hands, ugly choking sobs that he wasn’t sure how he even produced. Ethan was at his side immediately, arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“What do I do?” He asked, voice muffled by his hands until he finally raised his head and looked at Eden with pleading eyes, waiting for an answer she was reluctant to give.

“You let her live. Don’t text her, don’t call her. If she calls, you don’t answer. When you go home, you don’t see her. You let her let go, and move on.”

All he could do was nod, and lean into his brother.

Indy leaned against the wall. It was cold and unrelenting against her shoulder, but it held her up better than her own legs would. She’d dropped Devin off at the airport that afternoon, and found herself back on the ped’s floor, waiting. 

Valentina spotted her first from the nurses station, and the way she held her clipboard made it look like a weapon.

“My eyes better be deceiving me, cause’ I know that is not Indiana Cross standing in my hallway on her day off.” 

Indy found it in her to laugh dryly. “Relax Val, I’m here to see Beks. Haven’t gotten to visit her off the clock for a while.”

Valentina still gave her signature disapproving stare, but she gave it up with a sigh. “Well, her family is visiting too. Mom and Dad, if you wanna say hi.”

It had been a long time since she’d seen Mr. and Mrs. Newcomb. They were lovely people, and they truly did come see her as often as they could. But they also worked two jobs a piece to try to foot the medical bills, which meant often was scarce. 

Indy had never seen them in the same room before, and her stomach tightened. She was hesitant to go to Bekah’s room, scared to interrupt, but when she peaked her head around her doorway, she saw the couple sitting on the couch in the room quietly. 

Mrs. Newcomb spotted her, eyes brightening as she waved her inside. 

“Come in, come in!”

Indy was still hesitant as she walked inside, eyes darting over to a sleeping Bekah. She was curled up under her halloween blanket, brows furrowed down and skin pale. 

“Hi Indiana, how are you sweet girl?” Mrs. Newcomb asked.

“I’m good, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just thought I might stop by and check on her but I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, no you’re fine! She was actually asking about you just before she went to sleep, you and Earring, whoever that is. Hang on.”

Indy watched as she moved over to the edge of her daughter’s bed, running her thumb along her cheek until she started to stir.

“Sweetheart, Indiana is here to see you. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Bekah whined, but pulled her eyes open, smiling slightly when Indiana moved into her view.

“Hey punk,” Indy said, crouching down so she could get to her level. 

“Hey,” she whispered, voice hoarse. On instinct, Indy reached out to fix her head wrap, making Bekah’s mother smile. “What time is it?”

“6:55,” Indy answered.

“Mmm. Meds coming soon,” she mumbled. “Where’s Earrings? He doesn’t like needles, don’t let him see the needles.”

“No needles baby,” Mrs. Newcomb said. “Just some to make you feel better. You rest now.”

“Earrings,” she said again, and Indy could tell she was asking. 

“He’ll be here to see you soon,” Indy lied, rubbing over her wrap like she would her hair if it was still there. 

It didn’t click for Indiana until 7 rolled around, and Jennifer came in with a cup of pills instead of an IV pole.

Radiation and chemo don’t come in pills, Indy knew that much. 

Mrs. Newcomb watched the realization come across her face, and she gave her a sympathetic smile.

“She’s… she didn’t get her meds.”

“Indiana baby, it’s what she wants. The new round didn’t work, the stem cells failed. It’s time to let her rest. We’ll keep her comfortable, the doctor says it’ll probably be a few weeks, maybe a month.”

Indy’s throat burned, and her breathing quickened, chest rising much too fast. She couldn’t say goodbye to anyone - it took all her focus to make it out of the building, running down the stairs and across the lobby before she was dry heaving in the bushes, the sight of Bekah’s frail body in her bed appearing every time she closed her eyes.

It wasn’t a conscious decision. More of an instinct, really, that drove her to pull her phone out of her pocket and pull him up and call.

In LA, Grayson’s phone buzzed against his nightstand. A new picture of Indiana popped up - her contact photo that he’d taken one day in Jersey. With a knot in his throat and Eden’s voice in his ears, he reached over and turned it off before rolling away and letting his tears soak into the pillowcase.

[musings-from-mars]

Rosebloom AU - part 4

Monday came around slowly, and school that day went by even slower. Every class, Ruby thought about her date(?) with Weiss that evening, and all the ways it could possibly go wrong. It’s not that she thought Weiss would do anything wrong, no. It was herself she was worried about, her and her anxious awkwardness that made it almost impossible to talk to anyone she didn’t already know well.

That made her all the more thankful for their little hangout at DQ. Ruby had rambled and rambled about the Red Hallow Manor podcast for an hour, and Weiss had said she enjoyed it. She even wanted to hang out again. That meant Ruby was doing something right. Right?

She never once saw Weiss around during school, which wasn’t really a surprise. Weiss was two years ahead of her, so they had completely different class schedules. Ruby wasn’t sure if she should feel disappointed or relieved about that. She would have loved to have seen Weiss, but what would she have said? Ruby wasn’t good at small talk. Or any talk.

The final class period ended, and Ruby was off to anime club. Yang used to go with her, but ever since she joined the soccer team (“A great sport for us unarmed folk!” She likes so joke), her afternoons Monday through Thursday were booked. Ruby was thankful for that today. She knew Yang would take any chance to tease her about Weiss.

Why did that bother her so much? Ruby wasn’t sure. All she knew was every little joke her sister or father made about her possibly having a crush felt like another internal organ dying a sudden painful death, only to quickly return to life in case it need to die again from embarrassment. She knew they were just trying to be supportive, which Ruby appreciated, but gosh...she really wished she could just tell them to stop. But she didn’t want to seem weird...

They were just watching a Studio Ghibli movie today, which Ruby was glad for. If there was one way for her to get her brain to turn off and just be, it was watching movies like this. She generally hated movies (who wants sit still and watch a thing for 90+ minutes? While doing nothing?), unless they were animated, then they were okay. After that, she headed to the school parking lot to wait for Yang. Soccer practice usually ended around the same time as anime club.

Sure enough, she hadn’t been waiting long when she saw her sister approaching from the field house near the football field. She waved at Ruby as she got closer, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, hair still up in a ponytail from practice. Ruby waved back, and silently hoped Yang wouldn’t go straight into the teasing.

“Ready to go?” Yang asked.

Ruby nodded and put on her helmet. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” And without another word, Yang let her hair down, put on her helmet, and started them on the way home. Thank goodness.

Ruby wasn’t so lucky with her dad. When they arrived home and walked into the kitchen from the garage. Their dad Tai, who was busy frying something on the stove, beamed at his daughters as they entered. “Hey girls!”

“‘Sup dad,” Yang greeted as she walked by him, making a beeline for the fridge and pulling out a carton of orange juice.

“Hey!” Tai yelped. “Glass!”

Yang had already chugged several gulps of juice straight from the cartoon. “I need the electrolytes!”

Maybe Ruby could slip by unnoticed? She tried, but was caught out before even reaching the stairs. “Getting a head start on your date preparations, Ruby?” He asked with an affectionate chuckle.

Ruby’s gut twisted in a knot, but she did her best to match his good-natured tone. “Just gonna do some homework before I go,” she fibbed. She didn’t really have any homework, she just preferred to stew in anxious isolation until it was time to go meet Weiss.

“Well, just be sure to have some stir fry before you go,” he said. “Unless you’ll be having dinner with her.”

Ruby gritted her teeth for a moment but nodded. “I’ll have some.” She had no idea if Weiss had food for her at her house, but figured she’d have some light dinner here just in case she didn’t. She then hurried up the stairs before anyone could say anything else. That wasn’t too bad.

She spent an hour playing Minecraft, then got a text from Weiss: “Hi! Are you ready to come over?”

Ruby responded: “Yeah! I can get my sister to give me ride.”

Weiss: “Oh, I was going to send you a ride. Which would you prefer?”

Another Uber? Ruby got the impression that Weiss was from a wealthy family, so she could afford to just Uber everywhere. But Ruby somehow still felt bad about her spending money on her. Then again, Yang not driving her meant less teasing. And taking an Uber would at least make her feel a little more grown up.

Ruby: “Thank you, you can send me a ride. You’re so nice!”

Weiss: “😊”

Weiss: “The driver is on his way to you, should be about fifteen minutes.”

Oh. That meant Ruby had fifteen minutes to prepare.

What should she even wear? Should she be formal? Well, not formal, but like, nice? Or should she dress more like herself? Was a hoodie and skirt appropriate? No, she should wear a nicer top. Oh fuck, her hair was a mess.

The next fifteen minutes were a mad scramble. She tried on various garments and left the rejects strewn about her already messy room. She had her lower body all sorted; black leggings, red plaid skirt and brown boots, but besides hoodies, she had no clue of what to wear besides plain t-shirts. Why did 75% of her tops have to be bargain generic t-shirts from Joann??

She settled on one of the few shirts she had that was actually form-fitting, which came with it’s own drawbacks. While she looked decently fashionable, that muffin top though...

It really wasn’t much, but to Ruby it stuck out. She used to be insanely skinny, like, she could eat so much food and nothing would happen. But now...she was still skinny, to be fair. Just not as much so as she used to be. Why couldn’t she get squish like this on her legs instead? Did she need to work out more like Yang? Yang had some meaty thighs. Ruby wouldn’t mind having meaty thighs.

Fifteen minutes had passed. Why was she thinking about meaty thighs? She still needed to do something about her hair!

She got a text from Weiss: “Your driver says he’s arrived!”

“Frick,” Ruby muttered as she peeked out the window. Sure enough, there was a car idling by the curb. A...very nice looking car. Was this, like, a Super Uber or something? This car looked like something out of a spy movie.

Ruby quickly looked herself over in the mirror. Her hair was all over the place. It wasn’t horrible; it was her usual controlled chaos, but it definitely wasn’t date worthy. Well, this wasn’t a date, but Ruby had been preparing like it was. She couldn’t stop short at her hair! But the driver was here, and she didn’t want to keep Weiss waiting...

A knock at her bedroom door startled her. “Wha?! Huh?”

“Uhh,” Yang began. “You know anything about the fuckin’ Bentley out front?”

Of course Yang knew what kind of car it was from a distance. “Uhh, that’s the Uber Weiss sent for me.” Ruby went over to the door and opened it, since she was heading downstairs anyway.

“That’s an Uber?” Yang asked, then blinked at Ruby. She smiled and leaned a hand on her hip. “Ohhh, look at you! Cute!”

Ruby blushed and chuckled quietly. “Yeah, I think her family just has a lot of money.”

“Hm.” Yang nodded and was silent for a second. Ruby wasn’t sure what that meant. “Well, just be safe! Don’t let her whisk you away to some Italian Riviera or something. Well, not without letting us know first!”

Ruby scoffed and moved past her. “I don’t think she’s that rich.”

Once downstairs, she walked through the kitchen, only just then remembering her dad’s stir fry. Well, there was no time for that now. “Bye dad!” She called, hoping to make a quick get away.

Her dad, who’d been cleaning cookware at the sink, scoffed when he saw her rush past. “Eager to see your not-girlfriend, sweetheart?” He teased, beaming brightly.

Ruby lingered at the front door and chuckled nervously, her face burning. “She’s...just my friend, dad.”

“I haven’t seen you blush this much before,” he noted with a grin. “Just be safe! And don’t take things too fast, you’re only fifteen.”

“Take things too fast?” Ruby asked. “What do you mean?”

Tai simply giggled as he began to dry off a pan. “Don’t decide you two are gonna run away together right after graduation. In an Uber, apparently,” he joked.

Ruby contained herself for a moment before coming up with a more measured response. “Why would I run away with her if she’s just a friend, dad?”

Tai shrugged. “I’m just teasing. Just have fun! If you spend the night, just shoot me a text before it gets too late.”

Yang entered the kitchen as well, picking a sliced bell pepper out of the bowl of stir fry and rice with her hand and eating it. “Need a sleeping bag if you do? Or are you and Weiss going to share?” She teased, making Tai snicker.

Some sort of limit had been reached, and Ruby’s mask faltered for the briefest moment. “She’s just my friend!” She said, a little louder than she meant.

Tai and Yang both seemed surprised at first, but Tai smiled and nodded. “We know, sweetheart. Just have fun and be safe. Love you!”

Ruby sighed, feeling guilty and embarrassed for blowing up, as slight as it had been. “Love you too,” she said, then quickly left the house and briskly walked to the awaiting car.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 4: Tweeted- Benny Miller

Day 4: Tweeted- Benny Miller 

I have to admit this may be my favorite so far that I have written. I just love Benny so much and how adorable he is.

Check out my November writing challenge masterlist below and let me know if you have any requests for any of the prompts. 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 3: Clarity- Maxwell Lord 

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It was a strange thing to tell people when they asked about your boyfriend. Yes, he’s an MMA fighter, ex-special forces, and also an overgrown child.

You met Benny eight months ago at one of his local fights. A blind date set up by your friends started out as dinner with a nice normal doctor and ended up in bed with the entertainment for the night. You still felt sort of bad about how you had ditched the doctor but when you thought of how happy Benny made you it was worth it. 

You are sitting in the gym watching Benny train with his brother Will. The Miller brothers were a package deal and luckily Will and you hit it off right away. Will is going through some footage from an old fight while you scroll through your phone on twitter. Since you had begun dating Benny, the world of MMA became a norm in your life. You followed other fighters and coaches on twitter and learned as much as you could. It was at that moment an idea struck you. 

“Hey baby...babe....Benny!” you shout getting both men’s attention. 

“What do you need, Tiger?” Benny smiles at you. 

You roll your eyes, you hate that nickname, one time you had one of your nieces' Daniel Tiger songs in your head and you accidentally sang it out loud...one time. But that’s all it took for him to call you Tiger forever. 

“Have you ever thought of getting a twitter account for yourself as a fighter? Not like a personal account but something for press,” the look on his face makes you want to laugh out loud. 

“What the fuck is a twit….twitter? Is that some kind of STD?” oh your poor golden retriever and his lack of knowledge at technology. 

“No...baby no. It’s a social media account that people get to post about their lives. Lots of other fighters use it to connect with fans, and promote their fights, Will back me up here?” you gesture to the other Miller who looks just or more confused than the former. 

“Uhm, I honestly don’t know what the hell you're talking about, my girl just got me a Facebook account like two weeks ago,” Will shrugs at Benny. 

You roll your eyes so far you can see the inside of your brain before you tell them, “It would be great Benny, we could make you an account tonight when you come over for dinner and I can show you how it works, just trust me baby.” 

“I trust you Tiger, how about you get going home and I’ll pick up the take-out and be there within the hour?” Benny stands before walking over to you pulling you into his arms. You have to look up since he is a solid foot taller than you and he pecks you on the lips before attempting to deepen the kiss. Damn this man is insatiable. 

“Alright enough!” Will shouts, breaking the two of you apart abruptly, “Let the woman go Benny we need to finish up with this and then he’s all yours.” 

“Oh brother, I already am all hers,” Benny tells his brother loudly before leaning down to your ear and whispering, “and she is all MINE.” You can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine before he puts a wet kiss below your ear and gently pushes you towards the door, slapping your ass on the way out. You wave goodbye to Will and make your way home. 

Benny arrives exactly one hour later, two whole pizzas in hand, and a six pack of beer. You had been having pizza a lot more often since the other guys started calling you both monsters for your equal love of pineapple and ham pizza. Over the next three hours you and Benny work on setting up his twitter account. 

It’s honestly way more frustrating teaching him than you thought it would be. He asks more questions than a grandpa learning how to use a smartphone. You didn’t know a grown man could ask so many questions and so quickly. 

“What are followers? Is this some sort of cult website. Babe, I don’t wanna join a cult.”

“So I click this little round A symbol to tag someone in my tweet? Is this even English?” 

“Are hashtags named after hash browns because they look like hash browns...wait do we have any hash browns….baaaabbbeee now I’m hungry!” 

You groan before slapping your forehead, watching your big MMA fighter boyfriend dig through the freezer for hash browns. Coming back soon with a pout on his face, having found no hash browns. Damn how can one be so adorable?

“That’s it, I got work in the morning. I promise we can work on this more tomorrow!” You stand from the couch popping your joints as you stretch. Benny comes over to you wrapping you up in a hug. His warm arms wrap around you and he kisses the side of your neck. 

“Thank you,” the words are slightly muffled against your skin, “I really appreciate you doing this stuff with me. Supporting me with being a fighter, I promise one day I am going to make you proud of me.” 

You pull him back, placing your hands on his face. “I am already so fucking proud of you Benjamin Miller and don’t you ever forget it. Yes, you suck at technology butI promise I don’t love you any less because of it.” 

Benny goes quiet and the smile drops from his face… “My little Tiger... you love me?” 

Oh shit. That’s not exactly how you imagined telling Benny you loved him but when has anything in your relationship been conventional. You take a deep breath meeting his eyes before you smile, “Of course I love you baby. You are the sweetest, toughest, most badass, old man on the planet and I fucking love you so much.” 

Benny’s eyes become glassy before he’s pulling you in for a kiss, and wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I love you too Tiger, so fucking much,” he kisses you again slower this time, “go to bed baby I will clean up out here and join you in a couple minutes.” 

You pull away first, exhausted not only physically but emotionally too and you kiss Benny on the lips again gently before walking back towards your room. Benny has his own place with his brother but he’s kind of like a stray dog that followed you home one day and never left. Most of his stuff is at your place anyways, since he sleeps there every night. You pull back the covers and get into the cool sheets, from the nightstand your phone pings. 

You pick up the phone and see someone tagged you in a tweet. When you open it your eyes water and you clutch the phone to your chest. 

@y/n is the best girlfriend on the planet, AND SHE LOVES ME! I LOVE YOU TO BABE!

You press the like button on the tweet before turning off the light snuggling into the blankets. From the hallway you hear the sounds of Benny’s boots on the floor walking towards the bedroom. He gets ready for bed, and pulls you close to his body, his arms wrapping around your waist pulling you tight to him. Your head rests on his chest. 

Just when you're about to fall asleep you feel him tap your shoulder gently, “babe…” he whispers, “I tweeted all by myself.” 

You laugh out loud before snuggling to him tighter, “yes you did, I even liked it. And Benny?” 

“Yeah Tiger?” 

“I love you too.” 

Day 5: Holy - Llewyn Davis 

[wwitbeyondmeasure]

Summer At The Burrow - r.w. fan fiction

Previous Chapters

Introduction / Author’s Note / Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow / Chapter 2: Hidden Letters / Chapter 3: Ron’s Return

Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations 

You awoke to the sound of quiet shuffling in the corner of the room. You opened your eyes but didn't dare move. The wizarding world had become increasingly dangerous lately so you were terrified that there could be some dark wizard lurking in the darkness, ready to kidnap you. Then, you heard someone stub their toe and the sound of a muffled swear eased your fear.

"Ron?" you asked, no longer afraid of the mysterious noises in the room. You flipped over in bed so now you were facing him.

Your cheeks immediately flushed a deep shade of red. Whatever it was you were expecting to see when you turned around, it definitely wasn't a shirtless Ron.

"H-Hi. Sorry I, er, thought you were asleep," he stammered, standing frozen as if he was paralyzed.

Your brain was having an intense argument with your eyes to prevent them from dropping from Ron's face to his bare torso. Unfortunately, you were weak, so your gaze fell ever so slightly and your face got even redder. The years of Quidditch seemed to really have paid off because Ron's chest was toned. Freckles littered his shoulders and chest like constellations and you fought the urge to run your fingers over every single one of then. You tried your very best not to notice his prominent v-line leading to the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

Ron's face was the same color as his hair as he hastily threw a shirt on, to your great disappointment.

"I couldn't sleep well in normal clothes so I came up to get some pajamas...didn't mean to wake you," he muttered quietly, his eyes locked in a staring contest with the floor.

It took a second for you to snap your attention to his words when all your brain was thinking about was him half naked only a moment ago.

"S'okay," you said, matching his soft tone.

An odd silence filled the room, a silence that usually wasn't present in conversations with your best friend.

You scooted over closer to the wall, making as much room as you could in the small bed.

Ron took your silent cue and laid down next to you, folding his arms behind his neck as he leaned against the bed frame.

"Couch not treating you well?" you asked, keeping your tone light in hopes he hadn't noticed how you were ogling at him a minute ago.

He groaned, "I don't know how old that couch is, but I think my mum got it before her and Dad were even married. It's like sleeping on rocks."

"I can sleep down there if you want," you offered, feeling guilty for taking his room.

Ron was shaking his head before you even finished your sentence.

"No way, I'm a gentleman. I can't do that," he told you.

You snorted at his choice of words. "You're the furthest thing from it," you joked.

He playfully slapped your shoulder.

"It's true!" you defended yourself. "I don't think we've had one conversation at the dining hall where you're not talking with your mouth full."

His shoulders, clad in his red Chudley Cannons pajama shirt, jostled up and down with quiet laughter. You noticed there was a small hole in the middle of the shirt and you could see his pale skin moving underneath the cloth.

Forcing your eyes back up to meet his, you tried to change the subject.

"So why were you in Diagon Alley for so long?" you asked nervously, praying he hadn't noticed your eyes betraying your better judgment once again.

At this question, Ron beamed.

"They really kept the secret?" he asked, excitedly hopping out of the bed. "Nobody told you? Not even Ginny?"

Confused, you shook your head.

"I got you a present," Ron explained as he walked to the window and opened it, letting in the fresh nighttime summer air. "I asked the family to not tell you what it was, but I half expect them to anyways. But I'm glad they didn't, I wanted it to be a surprise."

You followed him out of bed, sitting next to him on the windowsill. You watched as he leaned out of the window, put his fingers to his lips, and let out a short whistle. Nothing happened, and you craned your head out the window to see what he was calling for.

The night was empty, all you could see were the rolling fields outside of the Burrow and the garden gnomes throwing rocks at one another.

You were about to pull your head back into the room, when you saw a small pink blur soaring through the air. It looked like it was getting closer and closer to the window.

"What is that?" you asked, looking to Ron for answers but were met with only his large grin.

Suddenly, the pink blur shot into the bedroom. You turned around, stunned as you saw Ron cradling it. Taking a step forward, you were delighted to see it was a creature.

"An owl?" you asked excitedly, as you stood next to Ron to see the creature closer.

It was miniature, about the size of Ron's owl Pigwidgeon, but a million times more adorable. Pink feathers surrounded large blue eyes and you noticed a black heart shaped marking on the top of its head.

"Her name's Aphrodite. I call her Dite though," Ron told you, glancing up at you from under his lashes to see your reaction.

You were beaming from ear to ear.

"She's amazing," you said.

Ron grinned. "Good, because she's yours," he said, moving closer so he could set the small creature into your hands. She reluctantly stepped off of Ron's palms, but once you gave her a small pat on the head, she nuzzled into your hands.

"I know how upset you were about Celeste, so I wanted to cheer you up. I spent days in Eeylops Owl Emporium looking for the perfect one and then one day Dite showed up. She's pretty affectionate and a fast flyer, a bit annoying really, but I thought you'd like her," Ron said. He looked at you again, biting his lip in hopes that you appreciated your gift.

Dite flew onto your shoulder as you lunged forward and wrapped Ron into a tight hug. He let out a little gasp of surprise but then wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Thank you, I love her," you said while hugging him.

"I'm glad. Now when we write letters to each other, you'll have an owl too so Pig won't get so tired making so many trips," he said.

At the mention of your letters, guilt knocked the smile off your face. You quickly pushed away from Ron.

"Ikindasortamaybelookedthroughyourpersonalbelongingsandsawtheletters," you said in one quick breath.

Ron stared at you confused. "Y/n, I didn't understand one word of that."

You swallowed nervously before stating slower, "I, er, I was curious about that box under your nightstand so I kinda...opened it. It had my name on it and I saw all my letters you kept," you said nervously. Dite reflected your emotions and shifted awkwardly from talon to talon on your shoulder.

Ron's facial expression changed slightly, and you were afraid he was going to be mad at you. Here he was, offering you a place to stay over the summer, buying you an owl, and letting you sleep in his room and how did you repay him? Oh yeah, by snooping into his personal items.

Instead of the anger you were expecting, Ron looked deeply embarrassed.

"Oh," he sighed, lowering his head and scratching the back of his neck. "Bet you think I'm weird for saving all your letters right? I dunno why I did, I just sometimes liked to reread them when I hadn't seen you in a while. I guess cause I missed you. I dunno," he said.

Again, a silence filled the room. He missed you. He missed you. Of course you missed him over the summer, both as a friend misses a friend and as someone misses their crush. You wondered which kind of missing he felt.

"I keep your letters too," you told him.

Ron finally looked back up at you. "Yeah?" he asked with a hopeful smile.

You nodded, "I reread them when you take a while to reply, sort of as a way to hold me over until the next letter. Or I reread them because your handwriting is so damn awful it takes a couple reads to actually figure out what you wrote."

He laughed, and just like that the tension was gone.

You spent the next hour or so chatting and playing with Dite. Even though Ron's watch read 2am, neither of you really cared, you just missed talking to each other. Back at Hogwarts, you would take walks along the Black Lake once a week and time seemed to matter less when you were together. You would stroll around the lake numerous times, your conversation flowing easily, and not even notice how long you had been gone until the sun would set. The same flow came into place now, and before long it was 5am.

By now, you and Ron were laying on his bed, your head leaning against his shoulder. Dite took it upon herself to sit with Pig in his cage, drinking some of the water from his water bottle as he unknowingly snoozed in the back of the cage.

A yawn escaped you as Ron sleepily spoke about the newest broomstick he saw on sale at Diagon Alley.

"It's late," he said, glancing at his watch with tired eyes

You nodded, too comfortable to move.

"Is it alright if I stay up here tonight? That couch is bloody awful," he said.

Heart soaring, you nodded again and scooted closer to the wall to give him more room. He got under the covers with you, slowly wrapping his arm around your back. Now you were cuddling next to Ron, your head on his chest as his fingers drew lazy circles on your back. People who were just friends didn't lay like this together, right?

Before long, he was snoring. You closed your eyes too. For the first time since you came to The Burrow, you drifted to sleep peaceful and warm. With Ron's arm wrapped around you, you were more comfortable than you had ever been before.

[pangzi]

Otome Gay [Nielan] - Chapter 5

word count: 1869 other chapters:  INTRO - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [AO3]

Since then, things with Xichen were a bit strange. It felt like both everything and nothing had changed. They still talked as much, but sometimes when things got a bit too flirty or serious, Xichen seemed to suddenly get a lot quieter. Mingjue didn’t really know how to handle this. He didn’t want to think too much of it, maybe Xichen just wanted to take things a bit slower than Mingjue, and that was totally okay. But there was always this little nagging voice in his head that told him he did something wrong and now Xichen wasn’t interested anymore. Always followed by the other nagging voice that said that of course Xichen isn’t interested, why would he be, that Xichen is too good for him and he should be happy he even wants to be his friend. 

Mingjue wanted to just take his brain out and throw it in the trash whenever those thoughts took over. It was so ridiculous, Xichen had agreed to go on a date with him, he wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t interested. He wouldn’t lead Mingjue on, he was sure of it. Xichen even kept saying how much he was looking forward to their date on Friday, as long as he still was, Mingjue shouldn’t worry. Although it wasn’t the best first date, it still beat a movie date. They could just find a quiet place to talk after greeting their brothers and some of their friends and spend the entire night talking. Mingjue would find a way to make it romantic. 

Mingjue had planned to take Huaisang to Haidilao Hot Pot on Thursday as an early birthday celebration, as it had become somewhat a tradition in the past few years. There was even a new restaurant opening near Huaisang’s university, so it was perfect. Or, it would have been, had one of Huaisang’s mandatory classes not been rescheduled for the exact time Mingjue had made a reservation. 

It was foolish to give up a reservation in such a popular restaurant so Mingjue decided to still go, he’d take Huaisang again another time. Xichen was going somewhere with Wangji tonight, so he couldn’t ask him to come along. So instead he decided to take Zonghui. 

When they arrived, the line of people without a reservation was incredibly long. Mingjue almost felt bad that they could just go inside without waiting. Right when they walked in, he saw a familiar face in line. Meng Yao. 

For a moment he wanted to just walk inside, remembering the way Meng Yao had looked at him last time they met. He didn’t trust him one bit, but he was Xichen’s best friend, he should probably try and be at least on good terms with him. So he told Zonghui to wait a moment. 

“Meng Yao”, Mingjue called to catch the boy’s attention, who turned to him immediately. “You can come in with us, we have a reservation”, Mingjue said, forcing a kind smile on his face. Meng Yao seemed surprised at that.

“Mingjue-xiong, that is very kind of you but-”

“We’ve been waiting for hours, we’d love to join you!” Meng Yao’s friend interrupted him, before introducing himself as Su She. 

As they went in, Mingjue heard Meng Yao hiss something at Su She, who apologized profusely, stating he was just too hungry to wait any longer. Mingjue ignored it though, he did a good deed.

The first part of the meal was quite awkward, Mingjue had no idea why exactly but Zonghui and Meng Yao did not get along. They kept snapping at each other and rolling their eyes when the other said something. Su She mostly sat there in silence, only nodding along to whatever Meng Yao said like some kind of robot while Mingjue just tried to keep the peace. 

As soon as the waiter brought their hot pot, and they could actually start eating the conversation died down a bit. Whenever something was said it was either between Meng Yao and Su She or Zonghui and Mingjue. This wasn’t going too well… He almost regretted inviting them in. He definitely regretted it when Zonghui got a phone call halfway through dinner from his mother and urgently had to leave, leaving Mingjue alone with some people he didn’t really know. 

“Why did you come here with Zonghui tonight?” Meng Yao suddenly asked, only moments after Zonghui left. 

“Huaisang’s class got rescheduled, and alone wouldn’t have been fun”

Meng Yao hummed. “Then why didn’t you ask Xichen?” 

“Because he’s out with his brother” Mingjue said. Meng Yao raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say ‘what about it?’ Sometimes Mingjue forgot not everyone is as close to their siblings as he is, but he didn’t feel like explaining it any more so he didn’t. After a while though, Meng Yao just shrugged and continued eating. It was quiet for a while after that, nobody seemed to know what to say. 

“I don’t mean to be rude”, Meng Yao said, “but I always wonder… What do you and Xichen talk about? You two talk so often and have so little in common, I cannot help but be curious.” His tone sounded so condescending, Mingjue’s grip on his chopsticks tightened. He didn’t even know him? How was he going to decide whether or not Mingjue and Xichen had anything in common or had anything to talk about. 

Before answering, Mingjue decided to eat another piece of lotus root, giving himself time to calm down a bit and formulate an answer. “Many things, actually. Usually we start off telling each other about our day”, Mingjue began. 

“Very domestic”, Su She laughed, after which he winced in pain so softly Mingjue almost didn’t notice.

He ignored it though and continued. “We often talk about our brothers too, and our jobs, we’re mostly just getting to know each other.” 

Meng Yao nodded along as he spoke. “Ah”, he commented, “So nothing too… intellectual, excuse my choice of words” The arrogant smile he gave Mingjue before he called for a waiter and asked for the bill only made it worse 

“What do you mean by that?” Mingjue hissed.

“Oh, I just mean that it’s so different from what Xichen and I speak about usually”, Meng Yao grinned. “Not that I’m surprised” Su She nodded in agreement with a laugh. Mingjue was trying so hard to stay calm and not give this brat a piece of his mind. He had no right calling him stupid, he didn’t even know him? The waiter came back with the bill. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” Meng Yao told Mingjue as he paid. “Dinner is on me, see you tomorrow.” 

Mingjue was still fuming when he got home. He angrily paced through the house for a while, went on a run and even then he was still aggravated. He had asked Zonghui to call him when he could so he could vent, but he hadn’t gotten a reply yet. He thought about calling Huaisang for a moment, but he didn’t want to bother him with his problems right now. He decided to play the game some more, at least there he could give Meng Yao a piece of his mind and nobody would know. 

As he started his computer, his phone buzzed. Someone was calling him. Assuming it was Zonghui, he answered without even looking who it was. He was about to start complaining immediately, luckily he didn’t, as it clearly wasn’t Zonghui at the other side of the line judging from the warm greeting he heard as soon as he answered. 

“Hey”, he whispered, his temper disappearing almost immediately, “how was your evening?”

“Wonderful, thank you for asking”, Xichen chimed, “How was yours? A-Yao said he saw you and Zonghui at the new Haidilao near campus” He sounded a bit strained mentioning Zonghui, did he know Zonghui and Meng Yao didn’t get along? 

“I was supposed to go with Huaisang, but school ruined our plans”, Mingjue explained, “Letting our reservation go would have been a waste”

Xichen agreed with him. “Thank you for getting A-Yao in too, apparently Su She forgot to make an appointment, he’s so forgetful sometimes”, Xichen giggled, had he not, Mingjue probably would’ve gotten mad again at just having to hear about those two again. 

“I couldn’t leave your best friend out in the cold, could I?” Mingjue muttered, opening the game with some harsh clicks.

“A-Yao said he and Su She had a great evening, thank you Mingjue.” 

Mingjue really wanted to punch something. Of course Meng Yao had had a great evening, taunting Mingjue like that. For a moment he wanted to tell Xichen what Meng Yao had told him, how he’d made fun of him. He knew Xichen had no reason to believe him over his friend of several years. All he could do is prove Meng Yao wrong. 

The rest of the conversation with Xichen was casual and light, like all of their conversations. Xichen complained a bit about how shopping with Wangji was absolutely impossible sometimes. After that they just exchanged funny stories about their brothers. He liked how he could just be himself around Xichen, fool around and make jokes. Tell embarrassing stories without being judged. Still, Meng Yao’s words kept ringing in his head. All fun and light but nothing intellectual. 

God, he didn’t even know what Meng Yao meant by that. Did he want them to talk astrophysics or what? Did he expect them to discuss art styles and medieval paintings every conversation? 

He heard Xichen yawn. It was long past his bedtime already and Mingjue always felt bad for keeping him up late. Especially when he knew Xichen had to teach early tomorrow morning. “You should go to bed”, Mingjue said. 

“I am in bed”, Xichen murmured before changing the call to video. The view Mingjue got was one he never wanted to forget. Xichen was bundled up in his sheets, arms wrapped tightly around the plush tiger Mingjue had given him. Cheek squished against the pillow and his hair messy in the cutest way. Mingjue’s heart was surely going to give out. “Turn on your video”, Xichen requested quietly, 

“Promise to go to sleep after I do?” Mingjue asked. Xichen hummed softly, moving around a bit to turn off his nightlight already. 

As he turned on his own video, Xichen smiled widely. “You look handsome”, he whispered, barely loud enough for his phone to pick up on it. 

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, Xichen”, Mingjue confessed, which caused Xichen to hide his face in his pillow with an embarrassed groan. “I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow” 

Xichen turned back to the camera, hiding most of his face behind the plushie still. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and Mingjue’s fingers itched to tuck it behind his ears. “If you want to see me tomorrow then you’ll have to stop saying such sappy things”, Xichen complained.

“Then go to sleep, I’ll keep my sappy words for tomorrow”, Mingjue laughed. 

Xichen nodded from behind the plushie. “All right, good night, Mingjue. I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.”

“Me neither. Sweet dreams, Xichen.”

[jbbuckybarnes]

Zerfall - 1/14

Pairing: Bucky x named!Reader (Agent Andromeda) Summary: After Hydra drops virus bombs in 7 major American cities in the height of summer, the team is locked in their emergency bunker for weeks. The virus commonly called the Summer Poison successfully brought the infrastructure to a halt in all big cities. When the virus slowly starts burning itself out SHIELD Agents and Avengers are sent out to bring back order into the cities and the international relationships. Not without hurdles. Warnings for this chapter: Pandemic, mainy people in a small space, fear

Zerfall Masterlist || M a s t e r l i s t

The alarm sirens were blaring in the entire compound, a computer voice repeating the words, “Emergency Level Red, Code Black.” Level Red meant to get into a safe space fast, Code Black meant, “You should probably call your mum and tell her you love her a lot.” The entire team including you and your colleague Agent Magnolia instantly went into action, all silently hoping it was a test. “Friday? What the hell is going on?” Tony yelled out. “Sir, if there was a code double black, I would call it. Get in the bunker!” She urged him through the overwhelming amount of sounds the building was suddenly able to create. The blood drained out of multiple faces, not yours, you were trained for any kind of emergency situation. Not only an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D but also a SAID Agent. Trained for any thinkable Code Black. Agent Andromeda. The door to the bunker was open and after Friday confirmed that everyone had gone through the door Steve closed down the door manually in a blink of an eye. You all looked around, panting from running down the stairs and searching for the bunker entry that opened up. The place was small but big enough to live in for a while if that needed to be done. The room you’d entered was full of tech equipment and two walls full of canned foods and tap with a big filter construction connected to it. Stark never struck you as a survival kinda guy, at least not in this specific sense, but you weren’t complaining about clean water. There was an open door leading to a room full of bunk beds.

“So what the fuck happened, Friday?” Tony asked irritated by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “There has been a series of explosions over heavily populated areas a few hours back, only detected by little equipment monitoring the air. Bioweapons. Hydra says they are responsible and that there is a highly contagious and deadly virus that was spread with these explosions.” Friday said it short and straight forward. “Then why aren’t we doing something against it?” Steve looked up at the speaker system with a frown on his face, ready to go back out again. “Mr. Rogers, until we know if that virus is deadly nobody will leave this bunker. I’m programmed to keep as much of this team alive in situations like this. Singapore DORSCON level red. World Health Organisation phase 6, approaching 7. That means it is a pandemic. If I let you out you could die in less than a week if this is as deadly as Hydra says.” The AI urged him. “Please update us.” Tony exhaled stressed leaning on the chair behind him, before sitting down. “Will do, sir,” Friday assured him.

Everyone started adventuring the Bunker. The last big exercise was a while ago and the team had grown since then. Clint found the room with 4 power generators first. “I hope we don’t need this. We are still powered by your reactor model, right?” Clint peaked out at Tony and got a nod back. The billionaire was properly done with what was happening. The only thing keeping him from exploding was Pepper going through his hair. Sam was the one finding all the gaming equipment and making an excited little dance in the middle of a possible apocalypse. “You’re the worst, Wilson.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “Come on, if we live in a time of bioweapons I want to at least have some distraction. Can’t fight a virus with military training.” He grinned. Agent Magnolia was the one finding the arsenal of weapons hidden in a giant box below the bunk that was behind the door. She showed you the knife ensemble that was included and grinned at you. “Visible forces definitely won’t kill us down here.” You grinned back.

“How many are we?” Clint called out to the others. Pepper looked up concerned, “Twelve, why?” “There are only 10 beds.” came back and some of the team members interchanged worried glances for a second. “We have married couple and work couples here. I think that won’t be the problem.” you smiled and looked around you at Pepper, Tony, Steve, and Nat. “So Pepper & Tony share a bed. Who else?” Sam asked, suddenly very tense again. “Nat?” Steve looked down at his favorite team member. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You’re warm.” she smiled back up at him. “That will be the least of the problems with 12 people in an enclosed space.” Dr. Helen Cho finally came to word after she had calmed down from her personal existential crisis about viruses. Wanda pointed at the walls and the sink, “For how long would the food and water here last?” “Depends if we only eat twice a day. Could hold up for 90 days. Water won’t be a problem with my filter system.” Tony explained. There was another concerned glare between everyone, hoping that 90 days would be enough for the virus to decently die down if it was as bad as expected. “There is confirmation of the virus to be deadly by 70-85% from a Silicon Valley lab.” Friday’s voice broke through after a little more than an hour. “Analyze how deadly, how long people need to die, which symptoms, how long the recovery period is for people living,” Bruce called out, sitting on one of the computers that he didn’t leave since they had entered the bunker. “And the international political climate,” Tony added. “And when it’s safe enough for me to start working on a vaccine with the help of people outside.” Helen also added her factors. “Will do.” The AI voice answered and the room went silent for a second.

“Which cities are targeted?” Agent Magnolia finally asked the important question “NYC, D.C., Atlanta, Miami, LA, Chicago, Denver.” Friday listed. “Atlanta has the most used airport in the world. Great. A perfect recipe for a pandemic. How long did it operate after explosion.” You shared, rubbing your temples and having your brain start to overwhelm just like the scientists’. “4 hours, Agent.” Came back. “We’re in here for a good few weeks.” You deadpanned, putting all the factors together in your head. This wasn’t going to be a quick in and out thing. You’d be in this small space for at least 1-2 months if not longer. Everyone went back to the bunk they had chosen and tried to relax. You were trying to write down possible outcomes and strategies based on that in a notebook you found. There were so many factors to viruses and how people are infected and from which strain the virus is made. You bet on smallpox, a hard thing to get with only two original samples existing in the entire world. One in the US, one in Russia. You bet on Russia since Hydra said they were responsible. They were trying to bring chaos to the world for the bad people to team up in a post-apocalyptic world so that they could take over control. You had learned how this worked over and over again. Not only as an Agent but also from books, movies and games. It was so obvious but that made it easier for you to go about possibilities to create a strategy.

“The entire US and most of the western world is currently on lockdown & people are being quarantined.” Friday updated the bunker again and an exhale went through the bedroom. “Martial law already in place?” Steve looked up from a book he had found. “Not yet, but we’re close.” “Chill, Rogers. You can’t do much more than you’re already doing.” Sam said hanging from the bed in front of him. “I know, it’s just. I hate this, all of it. I didn’t fight in World War II for this to happen at the hands of Hydra.” he frowned and got an understanding nod back. “Can’t we go out there without getting sick?” Bucky spoke up still wearing his pajama jumper from sleeping in that morning. “Well, depending on how deadly this is, no. If the whole thing is a little more clear I might send you out to get samples for me to work on it.” Helen yelled from the other room. “Would love to help with that.” he smiled. He’d do anything to help humanity. The had already ruined his life and he ruined other lives under their influence. That’s the least he could do. “It’s getting late, get yourself ready for bed.” Pepper came in with a motherly smile. “We need a monitor that’s just showing day and night scenes, this is gonna mess us up,” Magnolia muttered before opening one of the closets. The standard-issue clothing in the closets were mainly Large and a few double XL. There was a washer but the drying system needed to have the ventilator system work better again and that wouldn’t be happening until the virus was going slower. Two to three weeks in the same 4 clothing sets seemed okay. Anything longer would be horrible for everyone involved.

“Atlanta spreads to Beijing, Dubai, Tokyo, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Paris, Dallas, Seoul, Amsterdam, Frankfurt, Singapore,” you mumbled laying in your bed, looking at the metal above you. “Hey, relax. We can’t do more than help the people working on it to do the right things.” Bucky looked over from the bed across. “I know. I know. That’s just, so many people dying.” You looked over. An understanding nod came back at you. In your head, you went with a 75% death rate and that was bad if you thought about the areas you just mentioned. Big Chinese cities, Central Europe, South East Asia.

Zerfall Masterlist

[smkkbert]

We ended as lovers (12/13)

Summary: Three years ago, Felicity’s life was perfect. She was offered a job at two great companies. Her boyfriend just started his own fashion label, and they picked a perfect apartment to live in together. The more heartbroken she was when Oliver got cold feet and it all ended. Now, Felicity is coming back to Starling City, well aware that she is destined to run into her ex-boyfriend there. While old feelings revive quickly, the pain still goes deep. Besides, for some reason Oliver seems to be angry with her.

Previous Chapters: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11 or read on Ao3

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Chapter 12: Made-to-measure

Unlike most mornings, when either her jarring alarm or the thought of work pulled her from sleep ungently, it was the tickling feeling in the back of her neck that woke her up this morning. Her hackles rose in the best way possible. Goosebumps spread from the back of her neck all the way down her spine. Her muscles felt like they were made of putty. They were so relaxed that they almost melted into the mattress.

The memories of last night washed over Felicity like a warm shower, embracing her in this comfortable feeling that made a content feeling spread over her and inside of her. She remembered the fashion show and the hours spent with Oliver after that. Most importantly, she remembered all the times they had made love last night.

Made love. Felicity had never really been a fan of that term. It sounded corny, cheap and like a lie because sex and love didn’t require each other. She had had sex without being in love with that person several times, and she had loved Oliver for years although they hadn’t had sex. One could easily exist without the other. After last night, she couldn’t deny that having sex could be equaled with making love because it had just been so much more than sex last night. It had been a reunion, a homecoming, a declaration of love.

She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips and quickly turned her face into the pillow although she couldn’t say why. She was sure that Oliver was smiling too. Even if he hadn’t, he probably couldn’t even have seen her smile because her curly blonde hair was covering her face completely.

Once more, she felt like a stupid teenager. She wouldn’t be surprised if she started giggling and wouldn’t be able to get a hold on it. Love did that, Felicity guessed. It turned people, no matter how serious and focused they usually were, into brainless shells of a human.

The thought was usually something to scare Felicity because brainless, was the last attribute she wanted to be connected with her. Today, she didn’t mind. Being brainless meant that you didn’t see the disadvantages of being brainless either.

“Morning,” Oliver whispered eventually, “how did you sleep?”

Taking in a deep breath, Felicity turned her head. With her cheek resting on the pillow, she opened her eyes to look at Oliver. Immediately, everything inside of her started tingling like a thousand bumblebees were inside of her.

Oliver had his head propped up onto his hand, looking at her. His deep blue eyes were filled with adoration and love, all directed at her. With the tousled hair and the sleep wrinkles on his face, he looked incredibly cute. Lifting her hand, she stroked her fingertips through his stubble and couldn’t contain a smile as she realized that Oliver was really here.

“Morning,” she whispered eventually, “how did you sleep?”

“I asked first,” Oliver replied, putting his hand to her back and moving his fingers up and down her spine, “so you answer before I answer.”

Felicity chuckled, but she guessed that Oliver was right. He had asked first, so his question had to be answered first. Her brain just continued to have trouble working properly either because it was still sleepy or because it was completely taken by Oliver’s presence and all the ways that made her feel.

“Good,” she replied with a low sigh, “better than I have slept in three years I guess.”

“Me, too,” Oliver agreed and his hand stopped its movements to rest flat against the base of her spine, “all because you were lying next to me.”

It was amazing how Oliver could be so broody and withdrawn with other people around and yet carry his heart on his tongue like he had never done anything else when he was around her. Something about the fact that Oliver could only talk this openly when he was around her made her feel incredibly light. It was a great feeling to know that she could open him like that.

Instead of saying anything about that, Felicity asked, “Why are you awake and staring at me when you had such a good time sleeping?”

“Because the only thing that’s better than sleeping is looking at you.”

With a fluent movement, Felicity pulled her pillow away and hit it right into Oliver’s face. While Oliver looked at her indignantly, Felicity chuckled. Shaking her head, she pushed the pillow back under her cheek.

“What was that for?” Oliver asked. “I was all sweet and corny, being the perfectly romantic guy, and you just hit me.”

“Because you are terribly corny,” Felicity told him, punching his chest playfully, “so I can hardly take you seriously.”

“Oh, come on,” Oliver said, “you love when I am corny.”

“Oh yes,” Felicity replied sarcastically, putting her hand to her heart, “if only I could express myself this eloquently, so I could really express my love for you too. You have to believe that I don’t love you at all with how brusquely I-“

Felicity stopped when Oliver suddenly started tickling her. Laughing and screeching, she tried to get away from him, but Oliver’s arms were wrapped around her firmly. They didn’t allow her to move away. All laughing, squirming and kicking didn’t help her with it.

“Okay, okay,” Felicity managed to say between some laughter, “I admit defeat. I surrender. I surrender.”

Oliver stopped immediately. Instead of giving her space, he rolled himself on top of her. His naked body pressed her equally naked body into the mattress. His face was hovering right over hers. After brushing some strands of hair from her face, he perked up his eyebrows, waiting for her to tell him more.

“You, my dear,” she said with a smile, cupping his cheeks with her hands, “are the perfectly romantic guy. Your words warm my heart like only you can do.”

“I still don’t feel taken seriously,” Oliver replied, amusement sparkling in his eyes, “but it’s better than nothing, so I’d say it’s fine.”

Watching her with a soft expression in his eyes, Oliver stroked his fingers through her hair. His thumb brushed against her forehead again and again. A warm smile spread on his face. Felicity could see just in the way he looked at her that he loved her and that he wanted to be nowhere but here with her.

Putting her hands to his face once more, she pulled his head down towards her. Her lips captured his in a loving kiss that made Oliver sigh. He pushed an arm beneath her body, holding her to him. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip. His muscles almost melted with hers. His hops pushed between her open legs, his already half-erect cock moving against her sensitive folds.

Quickly, Felicity pushed at Oliver’s face to break the kiss. She chuckled when she opened her eyes and found Oliver looking at her grumpily. He wasn’t too pleased with the interruption. They had been interrupted too many times already. Now that it was just them, there shouldn’t be any further interruptions. They should just be able to do whatever the hell they wanted, and it was quite clear what Oliver wanted right now.

“Just five minutes,” Felicity asked and pecked his lips, “give me five minutes and you can ravish me all you want.”

“I will hold you to that.”

Felicity smiled, already feeling a jolt of pleasure going through her core. She and Oliver definitely wanted the same right now.

“I hope so,” she whispered and pecked his lips once more, “just five minutes.”

With that, she pushed at Oliver’s shoulder until he rolled off of her with a long sigh. He pushed his arms beneath his head and watched her while Felicity was rolling to the edge of the mattress. She considered wrapping the blanket around her naked body, but she knew it would be ridiculous, so she took couple of steps to the bathroom in all her naked glory.

Stepping through the door, she turned her head back over her shoulder to see that Oliver was still watching her. His eyes were moving up and down her body, taking in her naked curves. When they met her eyes, she could see the hunger inside of them, and it made a shiver run down the length of Felicity’s spine.

She winked at Oliver before she closed the door behind herself and stepped in front of the mirror. Although she did look a little exhausted from the long flight and the last night that hadn’t offered a lot of sleep, Felicity didn’t miss that she looked very happy. There was a smile on her lips and a content expression in her eyes that had been missing for a long time.

Felicity put on her morning robe that was rested over the rim of the bathtub and splashed some water into her face and brushed her teeth. She wouldn’t call herself vain or anything like that. Since she had smelled the peppermint on Oliver’s lips, she knew that she had brushed his teeth though, and morning kisses really weren’t the best of kisses when morning breath bothered the greatness.

Grabbing a washcloth from the drawer beneath the sink, Felicity wetted it and cleaned herself a little. She could feel how sore she still was. All the times Oliver had thrusted into her last night, adapting rhythms that had been slower sometimes and quicker other times, had left their marks on her it seemed. Closing her eyes, Felicity felt the memories of last night washing over her and had to catch her bottom lip between her teeth to restrain from letting out a hungry sigh.

She remembered the way Oliver had looked at her with so much adoration, desire and love that she had just felt like a slave to her hormones. Everything inside of her had wanted and needed him. She had wanted and needed to feel the touch of his fingers, the taste of his tongue and the pleasure of his orgasm. He had been everywhere around her and inside of her just by looking at her. Her mind had been unable to fight her body on that need, not that it had had any good arguments to start with. Her mind had wanted Oliver as much as the rest of her body because it had known how good he would make her feel.

When he had touched her, her entire body had felt like it had been set on fire. Everything had prickled. The feeling on her skin had been something on the small line between pleasure and pain. She had been caught between these feelings, every moan falling from her lips a sign of her insecurity what it was. At the end, the pleasure had outweighed the pain though. It had been so much stronger.

Then his lips had brushed against hers, capturing them in a gentle kiss. Despite their need for each other, they hadn’t hurried through the kiss. They had taken their time. They had explored each other’s lips. They had let their tongues dances together slowly. They had lost themselves in the kiss and found themselves in each other.

With him inside of her, she had been completely lost to her pleasure and yet she had felt that much at home as she had never felt. The thought that the feeling of a cock inside of her felt almost a little bit ridiculous now. She was a grown woman that was very proud of her work and defined herself through her work much more than she defined herself through any man. With Oliver, it was different though because he just made her feel so unique.

After their first round and some good snuggles after, Oliver had excused himself to the bathroom. He had cleaned himself. When he had come back, he had had a washcloth with them. He had wiped their juices off the inside of her thighs too. Throwing the washcloth back into the bathroom, he had climbed back into bed with her then. With his arms wrapped around her waist and his chest pressed to her back, they had fallen asleep.

Felicity couldn’t say when she had slept that peacefully for the last time. Everything from the moment she had fallen asleep to the second she had woken up had been perfectly calm. She had felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. She had felt well and protected. She had felt perfectly.

Oliver had woken her up around four a.m. with his lips caressing her shoulder. He had peppered kissed all over her skin until he had felt her waking up. He had deepened his kisses then, licking and sucking at the sight of her neck. Looking at herself in the mirror now, Felicity could see the hickey he had left between all the beard burn of his stubble.

She guessed it was good that she didn’t have to go back to work before Monday. With the beard burn and hickeys, she’d become the center of gossip. Well, the press had probably taken care of that already given the photos they had taken of her at the fashion show. She was sure that at least some gossip magazines would already print wild stories about the fact that she had been there.

Shaking her head, Felicity pushed that thought away and rather thought back to last night.

They had had sex again, making love beneath the blankets. Their bodies had cradled each other while they had rolled around on the mattress again and again. The urge to get as close to each other as possible had been overwhelming and absolutely needed. She had wanted Oliver and only Oliver. Nothing else had mattered, just like hours before.

Thinking about all that times that they had had sex, Felicity could feel herself growing hungry for Oliver once more. She wanted to feel the way she had felt last night. She wanted to become one with him over and over and over again.

Throwing the wet washcloth into the laundry container, Felicity shot a last glance at her reflection in the mirror. Smiling about how good and relaxed she looked, she turned around and opened the door.

“Less than five minutes and I am ready to be ra-“

Felicity stopped when she saw that Oliver was no longer lying in bed lazily. Instead, he had sat up and was leaning back against the headrest of the bed now. A small notepad was resting on his thighs. He was leaning over it, sketching some designs Felicity guessed. His hand was moving furiously, drawing what looked like arbitrary lines, but Felicity knew that he could see more in those lines than anyone else. His face looked exhausted and focused, but his eyes sparkled with inspiration.

“Oh,” Felicity said, “do you want to work?”

“Huh?”

Oliver lifted his gaze, looking at her with surprise. He looked like, at least for a moment, he had completely forgotten where he was and that she was here with him. Knowing Oliver and how lost he could get in his work, Felicity was sure that this was exactly what had happened.

“No,” Oliver said quickly, “absolutely not.”

He hurried to throw the pencil across the room. He closed the notepad and dropped it to the floor. His fingers moved through his hair, the fingernails scratching over his scalp. Although Oliver’s actions looked very determined, his face said something else. He looked confused, the way he always did when he stopped work abruptly in the middle of a boost of creativity.

Felicity frowned, putting her hands to her hips. “Yes, you do.���

Shaking his head, Oliver crawled to the edge of the mattress. He got up onto his knees there. Reaching out his hands, he put them to her waist and pulled her closer.

“You can work if you want too,” Felicity said while Oliver was already undoing the knot of her belt, “I wouldn’t mind. I know that you need to make good use of every boost of creativity, especially right after a show. I mean the boost of creativity you get after a show, thinking about everything you could have done better and what-“

“Fe-li-ci-ty,” Oliver whispered in that low singsong that he often used when he was saying her name and pushed her robe down her shoulders, so she was standing in front of him nakedly again, “stop talking.”

“But I know how important this flow of work is for you,” Felicity continued, “because comparing the designs from after the show to the ones that made it to the catwalk always shows you what you think you could have made better and what you want to have an eye for when the next fashion show comes. I-“

“Felicity,” Oliver whispered once more, faster this time, “I had a short boost of creativity as you called it, but I need some more inspiration. Besides, you promised that I would get to ravish you in five minutes, and I am sure that it’s already six by now.”

“Oh, really?”

Oliver hummed, nodding his head. He moved his hands from her waist to her back. While he was smiling at her, Felicity was leaning in for a kiss. Before her lips touched his, Oliver turned them and leaned forward until Felicity’s back landed on the mattress. His chest was pushing her down into it.

Felicity was chuckling, but her chuckle died in her throat when Oliver guided his cock to her entrance and pushed into her with one deep thrust. Moaning, Felicity arched against him. Her chest was pressing to his. The new angle let him go even deeper, touching her in spots that she had wanted him to touch her again and again since last night.

“Oliver.”

His name fell from her lips in a feverish whisper as Oliver stayed completely unmoving. It was maddening to feel him inside of her and not have him moving. Her fingernails clawed into the skin at his back, holding him to her.

Oliver didn’t have to be asked twice. He started moving, thrusting in and out of her with firm movements. He wasn’t going particularly slowly or gently. His face was hovering right over hers. They were breathing the same air while their eyes were locked onto each other’s.

They had taken so much time to explore each other last night that this, this morning, was just to still their need for each other. It wasn’t less intense as the lock of their eyes felt like their souls were connecting directly. They just didn’t take the time they had taken last night. They already knew each other by every inch. They knew what their bodies felt like, knew how to bring pleasure, knew how to make them feel like one.

Oliver moved relentlessly, continuing to thrust in and out of her in the same rhythm of firm thrusts. Felicity put her feet to the mattress next to Oliver’s thighs. She used that to lift her hips and meet Oliver’s thrusts. Their bodies were slapping together, the sound filling the room. The headboard of the bed moved against the wall with every thrust like they were in some shabby hotel.

The thought made Felicity smile with amusement. Whoever was living in the hotel room next door right now probably felt like they had picked the wrong room. When Felicity had been able to hear their baby cry when she had gotten ready for the fashion show yesterday, she was sure that they could hear their noises of sex now.

“What?” Oliver asked between two moans, continuing to thrust rhythmically. “What’s so amusing?”

He thrust into her particularly hard. It was almost like he wanted to tell her that there was nothing amusing about having sex with him. When they were united like that, he wanted to have her just for himself. He didn’t want any other thought to be part of this moment.

“I am sure our neighbors can hear us having sex.”

Oliver directed his gaze to the wall behind the headboard of the bed. His lips were twitching into a smile as he couldn’t hide his amusement.

“In that case,” he whispered, leaning down even closer to her, “I suggest that we give them a very good morning show.”

With that, Oliver moved his hand between their bodies. His thumb flicked against her clit. Before Felicity could bite down on her bottom lip to bite back a moan, it was falling from her lips loudly. The sound of pleasure almost echoed through the room. It filled everything around them like it was all that mattered.

It didn’t take long until Felicity felt the pleasure overtaking her. She was right on the edge. Every thrust of Oliver’s hips and every flick of his thumb against her clit brought her closer to it. She felt like she was trying to keep her feet on the ground firmly, but like she was slowly losing her balance.

Her fingers clawed into Oliver’s skin even more. She was sure that she would leave marks in the form of halfmoons on his back. They would stay with him for a while, reminding him of this morning as she would be reminded by the sore feeling that would certainly be with her even longer now.

Felicity was still on the edge when Oliver’s hips lost their rhythm. They pushed in and out of her on their own accord now, just trying to get the release he needed so much. With one last thrust, he buried himself inside of her once more, sending both of them over the edge at the same time.

Oliver slumped down onto her exhaustedly. His face pressed against the side of her neck. While his arms pushed beneath her body to hold her closely, his lips peppered sweet, little kisses against her pulse point. His cock moved in and out of her lazily, tickling the last waves of pleasure out of her.

Propping himself up onto his forearms, Oliver looked at her. The same expression of adoration, desire and love that she had seen last night already was in his face again. He moved his hands over her forehead, wiping away from of the sweat that had gathered there, before he leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss.

Felicity sighed, framing his face with her hands. She loved these slow kisses after sex because they showed how much they meant to each other. Even when they weren’t taking time, having sex was some way of making love to them. It was just a different form of love in that moment, and, still, it was love.

Deepening the kiss, Felicity felt her need for Oliver growing once more. She wanted him, and she couldn’t picture a single moment in the next days that she wouldn’t want him. The bare thought of the feeling of having him inside of her and having him move inside of her was overwhelming. It took over her entire body, making her entire world spin around it.

She could feel Oliver’s cock already growing hard inside of her, needing her as much as Felicity needed him. That their feelings and needs were mutual meant as much to her as the bare existence of her feelings in the first place. Her legs wrapped around his hips and-

The growling sound of her stomach made them move apart. Oliver looked at her with perked up eyebrows for a moment. Then they both started laughing.

“Okay, you really gotta get something in your stomach.”

Rolling off of her, they both groaned at the loss of contact. Oliver hurried to lean over and brush his lips against her temple. His hand moved over her cheek, his fingertips brushing against her skin very gently.

“I,” he told her with a smile, “will order everything there is on the menu for breakfast. I need you to be energized. I have plans for us today.”

 * * *

 Half an hour later, they were sitting in bed, half-dressed. Oliver, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, was spread out on the side of the mattress she had slept before, his head propped up onto his hand while he was watching her. Felicity, on the other hand, was sitting in bed with her back resting against the headboard of the bed. She was wearing panties and his shirt.

Plates with all different kinds of food were lying on the mattress around them as Oliver had indeed everything the menu of the hotel kitchen had offered for breakfast. Various newspapers and magazines filled the empty spots between them.

“The Return of Happiness marks the return of OJQ as we got to know it,” Felicity read the last line of the article and watched Oliver’s expression closely, “and we couldn’t love it more.”

Oliver lowered his face, but he wasn’t quick enough for her to miss the smile that had spread on his lips. While Oliver certainly had his moments of vanity and he had every reason to be proud of his work and the great critics it had evoked, he was still feeling almost a little embarrassed at having her read these critics out for him.

Felicity only shook her head slightly. He loved to see the failures and what he could have done better, overlooking everything he had achieved already. Sometimes, she guessed, Oliver just had to be pushed to accept how great he was really doing. It was why she had decided to read those reviews out to him because she had just known that they would appreciate his work and celebrate it as a success.

Indeed, every article she had read for him had pointed out that this new fashion show was bringing Oliver back to his roots. They proved what Moira had stated already, that Oliver’s latest designs offered what a lot of the designs in the last two fashion shows had lacked. Nobody had been able to find the right words to name it, but it was quite clear that the heart might have been missing a little before.

Well, maybe it hadn’t been missing. It had just been at the wrong place and in a really rough spot. Luckily, that was different now.

With her hand at his cheek, she lifted his face until his gaze met hers. Her fingertips moved through his stubble, and Oliver leaned his face even more into her touch in response. Cocking her head, she smiled at him.

“The reviews are really great,” she told him, “because the fashion show had been a success. Everyone loves it.”

“I am sure that, if we just search long enough,” Oliver replied, scrunching up his nose and nodding to the newspapers on the bed, “we will find negative reviews.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “There are always some idiots that don’t realize something’s greatness. Don’t let that be the thing you take away from this.”

Oliver puckered his lips. “Are you that uncritical when it comes to your work too?”

“Are you crazy?” Felicity chuckled. “When my work isn’t perfect, people lose their ability to move their legs while driving down the highway. When your work isn’t perfect, the worst thing that happens is that you are the center of attention for the worst dressed person of the evening.”

“And here I thought you were seeing more in my work than just the production of clothes.”

Oliver winked at her and squeezed her thigh, letting her know that he was only teasing her. He knew that Felicity understood that his work was more than that. He was doing art with his fashion, giving women the possibility to express themselves through their clothes.

Smiling, Felicity watched Oliver putting some marmalade to one of the croissants and offering it to her. She took a bite of it without hesitating, definitely needing some more in her stomach before she and Oliver would come at each other again. While she was chewing the delicious pastry that tasted like it had just been flown in from France, she folded the newspaper back together and dropped it to the floor. It joined at least ten other newspapers there.

“Your mother told me that you changed a lot of the designs within the last couple of days.”

Oliver grinned. “She told you or she complained to you about it? I swear that I was driving her insane with it.”

“Maybe a little,” Felicity replied with a low chuckle, but she soon shook her head, “she said that your new designs, as frustrating as those changes that short before the fashion show have been, have been the best designs she has seen in years. She basically prophesized these critics already.”

Oliver looked at the newspapers briefly before he lifted his gaze towards her again. He shrugged his shoulders all too casually. Felicity could see at the tip of his nose that he wanted to brush this subject off without saying anything more about it, but she didn’t want him to get away this easily. She perked up her eyebrows, asking for an answer without saying a word.

Sighing, Oliver rolled himself onto his back. He stared at the ceiling, folding his hands on his stomach. Felicity wasn’t sure if he was thinking about her answer, or if he was trying to buy time, hoping she’d forget about her question and the answer she wanted.

Careful not to end up in any of the delicious food on the bed, Felicity kneeled on the mattress and crawled over to Oliver. She straddled his lap and waited until he wrapped his arms around her waist before she stretched herself out on top of him. She rested her forearms next to his face and brushed her fingers through his hair.

Their eyes locked, and she could see that Oliver was struggling to find the right words. As easily as he was carrying his heart on his sleeve sometimes, as much trouble he had with it at other times. The human soul was complicated.

“The new designs had their roots in the better inspiration,” Oliver replied eventually, shrugging his shoulders, “because their inspiration was love and happiness. During the last two fashion shows, the feeling that drove me forward most was anger. I used my emotions to design, and all I felt was anger. That just didn’t end up the way it should have. Nothing ended up the way it should have after you weren’t here anymore.”

Felicity smiled sadly and nodded her head. She knew exactly what Oliver meant because she had felt the same way. She had done her work, and she had done it perfectly. Since her work just needed a lot of brain, it had been easier to be successful because that was what she had told herself to focus on after her heart had been crushed to a point of what had felt like no return.

For Oliver, whose work was based on the heart foremost, it must have been harder. He had presented some great designs through the years. They had always been admired. They just hadn’t been as good as the designs before had been – good, but not good enough as the critics has once called it.

“I loved all of your collections,” she whispered, “because they all had that special touch only you can offer. I loved your last collection even a little bit more than I loved all the ones before. When it comes to that, I guess I will buy every single design of that one too.”

Oliver chuckled, turning them around. Once her back was pressed into the mattress, her head resting on the pillow, Oliver lowered his hips, resting them against the juncture of her legs. Felicity spread her legs a little, accommodating his hips.

“You, my dear,” Oliver whispered with a low chuckle and placed a firm kiss on her lips, “are a designer’s girlfriend now. You don’t have to buy clothes anymore.”

Felicity perked up her eyebrows. “I guess I will just run around nakedly now?”

“I love it when you’re naked.” Oliver pushed a hand beneath the blanket and stroked his fingers from her knees up her leg. “It’s just not what I meant.”

“Oh, really?” Felicity cocked her head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well.” Oliver lowered his head and nuzzled her nose with his. His eyes stayed on her face the entire time. “As a designer’s girlfriend, you will wear individual items now and nothing else. Everything you will wear will be something that I designed just for you.”

The thought of wearing individual items of fashion every single day was tempting. Felicity loved fashion. As a tiny, blonde woman in a powerful position of STEM, she knew the difference a good outfit could make. When she dressed like the wallflower she had used to be, people saw her as that wallflower. When she dressed as something else though, she was taken for something else.

It wasn’t the thought about fashion that was spinning in Felicity’s head. The words Oliver had just said to her were much more important than anything else.

“A designer’s girlfriend?” she asked, cocking her head. “Is that what I am now?”

She wasn’t exactly surprised that Oliver had called her his girlfriend. After their I love yous last night and the wonderful hours of rolling around on the mattress that had followed, she knew that she wasn’t just a fling or an affair. She was important to him, just like he was important to her. They both wanted to continue where their past had left them, being together the way that they should have been those last years already.

Girlfriend. It was a big word between them. As long as they didn’t define what they were, they didn’t have to think about the consequences. All they had to do was to enjoy the moment. They could live in the here and the now which was nice because right here and right now everything between them was perfect.

As soon as they started thinking about the future, they would have to work to make this work. This dream would turn reality and reality meant that someone could get hurt.

Oliver, completely taken aback by her question it seemed, stared at her for a moment. He turned his gaze away and stared at the wall with empty eyes for another moment. Just a second later, his eyes found hers again and he was smiling softly.

“Are you a designer’s boyfriend?”

“I asked first.”

They both smiled as they had had a very similar conversation earlier this morning. Now, the roles were just a little bit reversed.

Oliver puckered his lips, watching her for a moment longer. Felicity really couldn’t be more relieved that Oliver was the one who had to answer this question. He was the one who had to take the first step of defining what they had. He had to put his heart all in before she had to do it. It was good because it made her feel safe, even if she felt a little bit sorry for him.

“Felicity Megan Smoak.”

Felicity’s eyebrows perked up even more. He sounded like he was about to propose to her which was equally amusing and scary.

“Don’t worry,” Oliver whispered, “I am not going to propose.”

He pecked her lips, and Felicity chuckled against them. Of course he knew exactly what was going on inside of her mind. He always knew.

“Felicity Megan Smoak,” Oliver repeated once more, waggling his eyebrows, “do you want to be a designer’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, of course,” Felicity whispered quietly, “nothing I’d rather do. I mean Tigerlily Hill is very hot. I’d say she’s the hottest fashion designer around.”

Oliver pursed his lips. He knew she was only teasing him, but he was so easy to tease. Even knowing that she was just teasing him couldn’t stop him from reacting to it. His hips pushed against hers, leaving no doubt what he wanted to do now.

“I am going to show you who’s the hottest designer around.”

With that, he caught her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue moved against hers, thrusting into her mouth in the same rhythm his hips thrusted against her hips. His hands roamed over her body, taking in her curves.

Soon, his lips lowered from hers to the edge of her jaw. They continued their ways down the side of her neck, kissing, licking and nibbling. Felicity felt like her body was set on fire all over again. All it took were some touches and a couple of kisses, and she was completely lost in Oliver again.

Only this time, her mind was unable to let go and enjoy what he was making her feel. Her mind was racing, thinking about all the consequences that would follow now that she had officially agreed to being his girlfriend. They couldn’t live in the moment anymore. They had to think about the future, and they had to think about it soon because her stay in Starling City was going to be over again soon.

Fact was that Oliver’s home was in Starling City. His family was living here. His friends were living here. His company was working from here. Starling City was the center of his life, and he couldn’t leave it easily.

Felicity, on the other hand, had her center of life in Hub City. Her friends were there. Her townhouse was there. Her company was there. Almost everything she needed in life was there, and she couldn’t just give it up.

There was no easy way to make this work. Neither of them could just move and doing a long-distance relationship was going to be terrible too. They hadn’t been really good at doing long-distance the first time around, and they would have only managed to make it work once more for her job in Gotham City until they had found some other solutions. Three years ago, that would have been easy because Oliver’s company hadn’t been that successful and Felicity hadn’t had a company yet. Now, it was different though.

“Fe-li-ci-ty,” Oliver whispered against her skin and brushed three more kisses against the side of her neck before he propped himself up onto his forearms and brought his face right over hers, “I can hear you thinking?”

“Really?” Felicity asked with a sigh, moving her fingers up and down his back slowly. “What am I thinking?”

“You are thinking that things always get complicated when they have a name,” Oliver said, “because it means that it’s real, and real things can hurt people. We lived in this little bubble for the last hours and that was nice because we didn’t have to face the reality of things that really aren’t that nice.”

Felicity knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Only minutes ago, she had thought that Oliver always knew what was on her mind. She just hadn’t thought that he could look into every detail of her thoughts like that. It was nice knowing that there were no words needed for them to understand each other though. It made things at least a little bit easier.

“I love you,” she told him honestly, digging the tips of her fingers into his skin slightly to keep him as close to her as possible, “and I want to be with you, but I can’t come back to Starling. I would if I could because I love this city, but my life’s in Hub City now. I can’t uproot my entire life, not even to be with you.”

“I know,” Oliver replied with a slight frown like it was absolutely unnecessary for her to say that, “you are doing important work in Hub City. I would never ask you to leave there. You are needed there.”

Felicity nodded her head slowly. Taking in a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around Oliver’s middle tightly. She wanted to hold him as long as she could.

“I guess we have to make our relationship work around her schedules,” Felicity said, shrugging her shoulders, “so maybe we can see each other at the weekends at least and-“

“Felicity,” Oliver interrupted her gently, a low chuckle falling from his lips, “I am a designer.”

He said it matter-of-factly like it was the solution to everything. Still chuckling, he leaned down and pecked her lips. When he propped himself back up onto his forearms, she was still looking at him doubtingly. Obviously, she didn’t understand him as easily as he got her every thought.

“I can work from wherever the hell I want,” Oliver explained to her, smiling softly, “whether it’s Starling or Hub City, it doesn’t matter. I mean, of course I have to show up at the company every now and then and probably more before a fashion show, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t live in Hub City for the most part. I could live there for the most time and only spend like two days a week here in Starling, or I leave the administrative headquarters here and move my atelier to Hub City completely, so I just have to travel back to Starling every now and then.”

Felicity frowned. “And you think your mother will agree to that?”

“She has to if she wants to keep me as a designer for the company.” Oliver shrugged his shoulders. “Otherwise, I will leave OJQ and start something new.”

“You really want to blackmail your mother?”

“Drastic times call for drastic measures.” Again, Oliver just shrugged his shoulders, but he soon released a long sigh. “All I am trying to say is that we will make it work somehow. Maybe I don’t know how exactly we will make it work, at least not yet, but I will find a way. I promise you.”

Felicity nodded her head, repeating his words, “We will make it work.”

Although she tried to let the words sink in, her mind was still racing. When Oliver talked about uprooting his life, it sounded so easy. She doubted that putting his plans into action would be as easy. There were a lot of hurdles they would have to overcome. She could feel it already. Those hurdles at the start of a relationship could easily cause the entire thing to burn down in ashes before it had really started and-

Frowning, Felicity noticed that Oliver had propped himself up onto his hands to have an even better view on her. He was looking her up and down. The expression in his eyes was critical. Something about what he was seeing bothered her.

“What?” Felicity asked. “What’s wrong?”

“This shirt…”

“Your shirt?” Felicity looked down at the shirt she was wearing, Oliver’s shirt, and frowned. “What about it?”

“It’s…” Oliver pursed his lips. “How am I going to say it?”

“Directly?” Felicity suggested. “And right now?”

“This shirt really doesn’t work for you.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, but she could see the teasing sparkle in Oliver’s eyes. He had already forgotten about what they had talked about, deciding that it was time to move back to the more fun side of them being together now.

“I should take it off,” Oliver said, already pulling at the hem of it, “so I can make you something new.”

Perking up her eyebrows, Felicity lifted her arms over her head and lifted her chest off the mattress. Oliver took the shirt off quickly and threw it somewhere behind him. Slowly, he lowered himself onto her, a soft smile on his lips.

“Right after I took measurements of your body.”

“Oh, you will?”

“Oh, yes.” Oliver nodded his head and peppered some kisses to her cheeks, her forehead and her nose. “But since I have forgotten my tapeline, I guess I have to take your measurements with my tongue.”

With that, Oliver lowered his head slowly. He kissed her lips, brushing his lips against her mouth gently. The touch was feather light. When Felicity tried to deepen the kiss, he lowered his head to her jaw though. Peppering a line down the side of her neck, stroking his tongue along her skin, he took measurements of her.

Felicity hummed, enjoying the caress as it made a content feeling spread everywhere inside her. She felt like everything that had been on her mind seconds ago was forgotten and irrelevant all of a sudden. When Oliver said that they were going to find a way, then they were indeed going to find a way. She knew that Oliver wouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.

Everything was going to be okay, no, better. Everything was going to be great, maybe even perfect.

* * *

@fannaz @promiseyoullbepatientwithme @bytemegeekette @felicity-said-just-in-case @phanseptiic @orangeisorange @mspotatohead14 @whentheheavenfades @emmaamelia95 @smoakingskye @seaolicity @ourwritinginvein @1022bridgetp @felicityqueenforever @leagueofolicity17 @yryssss @myhauntedblacksoul @sherlock44 @sinceriouslybea @olivyflavescentdeer @olicitys-castle @ofnothingcharming @vaelisamaza @smoakedandcharmed @alexisa1206 @mysaudadespt2 @florence-bubbles @addictiontelly @queens-of-arrows @memcjo @hysterical-for-joshifer-blog @oswinelevenforever @olicitylovemaking @bandanab310 @mymusiclove101 @lynslogic @scarletqueen23 @olicityshipper19 @alex-wesley @arrows-4ever @unabashedlynerdypatrol @louehmysoul @ligiapimenta @chattyyana @charlie-leau @coal000 @samcrowleys @ishippolivia @julianegomesqueen @malafle @miriam1779 @charlinert @melaux @ontheolicityship @myshipperlife @wrightainsley @lexi9515 @ladygreenwood @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl @morinamel @mje-thomas @kebarry @canadianheartgirl @nannett2307 @almondblossomme @kathrynelizabeth89 @imdfabulous @mrt2501 @arsipaci14 @salasvia @brandis91 @cainc3 @morganmiguess @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl @iamisalima @nessafrancis-blog @jonhdiggle @niki-is-amazing @universed-posts @hopeful-warrior @senoritaswiftie @bellemmie @green-arrows-of-karamel @iheartarrow @olicityovereverything @oliverfel4 @olicity-in-the-heart @fullychippedcreation @geemarie @everything-but-normal-cat @myarroworld @tjmartinez @pleasantfanandstudent @j69confessional2 @scentedcolorpirate @icanica74 @tjmartinez98 @certainmentalityface @tatianadamaceno @ryelew @wildwillowzepplin @missafairy @letsplaymurde-r @lipizette @positivepiper @nuttymilkshakehologram @laksagirl @turnupthemusicandscream @pumpernickle93 @onceuponanolicity @1106angel @jaspertown @fadinglands @morganashimi83 @mochababychristy @omglovechrissie @mariejr88-blog @thetaufactor @onceuponanolicity @speakandseethetruth @bri206 @aglasgo @geemarie @pineprincess @nerdgirljen @eternal-olicity14 @allyouhadtodowas-stay-stay-stay @lovelycssefan @tsseract @flowerandsunshine @dcnmarvelgamergeek @blondeeoneexox @monetsmark @bb-olicity @mashamarty @rulerofsilence @erika-amber @nothingmorethanmyotps @kayleenyc @tonto16 @olicityfluv @olicitea1990 @haahaaa2408 @pattid1 @faegal04 @24karatgem @wrldtravler​ @readerkas​ @olicity-beliver @greencoffeecups @snorlaxishere​

(If you want to be tagged or untagged, just let me know. :))

[alarawriting]

Inktober #26: Dark

My name’s Mike London, and I hunt vampires, and that’s why I don’t love the darkness anymore.

Yeah, I know, I know. At this point you’re probably thinking “do we really have time to unpack all that?”, but the thing you’re getting hung up on is vampires, because vampires aren’t real. How could creatures who are technically dead survive only on blood, and if they were running around turning people into vampires every time they drank blood, why isn’t the world overrun with vampires? How could anyone function if they burst into flames when exposed to sunlight, why wouldn’t they show up on mirrors, does that mean they don’t show up on cameras, so on and so forth.

Okay, so most of the myths are wrong. You can see a vampire in a mirror… unless the vampire is positioned to see into your eyes, or their reflection. Vampires are stronger than humans but not by much – you know about that hysterical strength “mom lifts car off child” thing humans can do in extreme circumstances? They can do it all the time, because their bodies are constantly resetting to a perfect state based on what they were like at the moment of undeath, plus their self-image, with bodies that are perfectly healed except for anything that’s part of the self-image, like a scar that they’ve grown to identify with or a piercing. They’re faster than most humans, but they still have human muscles, so we’re talking Usain Bolt, not the Flash, or even a cheetah. They do burst into flames when exposed to strong ultraviolet light, a condition I can kind of sympathize with myself. And they aren’t created when a vampire drinks your blood, but when you drink a vampire’s, when your own blood levels are very low. As soon as a person has more vampiric blood than human blood in their system, boom, vampire.

They have only one really magical superpower, aside from the fact that they’re alive when they shouldn’t be, and it explains all the others that humans believe they have. If they can look into your eyes, and hold your gaze, they can control your mind. Make you think they’re invisible, make you think they just exploded into a hundred bats, make you compelled to do what they say.

It doesn’t work on me, because I’m an albino. And that’s why, despite the fact that all I ever wanted was to write programs, I am stuck hunting vampires as a side hustle. I’m still physically weaker and slower than they are, and while I see better in the dark than you do, I don’t see as well as they do. In light without UV components, such as standard indoor lighting, my vision’s more impaired than theirs, and a lot more than yours. But they can’t mesmerize me, and frankly, your average vampire has gotten so used to being able to mesmerize humans, it’s crippling for them to run into a human where it doesn’t work.

You probably haven’t got the vaguest idea why being an albino protects me. Maybe you have some notion that albinos have weird superpowers, since frankly in fiction we almost always do. You probably don’t know exactly how my disabilities work – in movies and TV, albinos never get to play albinos, it’s always white men in makeup.

Albinos have bad vision. Lack of pigment in the retina when we’re developing gives us vision problems that can’t be corrected with glasses. It’s like we have fewer pixels to see the world than you do, so everything’s going to be fuzzy no matter how strong the prescription lenses are. And a side effect of bad vision from birth is something called rhythmatic nystagmus, where our eyes go back and forth like an old DVD using pan-and-scan to show a movie on old-school near-square CRT televisions. (Old technology’s a hobby of mine.) I don’t have any conscious control or even awareness of it; I couldn’t stop my eyes from moving like that if I tried, short of closing them. My brain does post-processing on the moving image to make it look to me like my eyes aren’t moving, combining multiple snapshots from different angles into a single image. It means my ability to see a moving object is crap even if it’s close enough that I should be able to see it otherwise, but in theory it lets me see more detail than I would otherwise.

The thing is, there’s a reason the legends all have the vampires going “Look into my eyes”. They need to be able to make and sustain eye contact, the kind where you stare into each other’s eyes, and they can’t do that with eyes that are moving constantly. It’s not that I can’t see their eyes, because for me things don’t look like they’re going back and forth while my eyes move. It’s that they can’t look into mine.

I found this out the hard way last year. I was working at a big financial company, and I was behind schedule on the software I was building for them, and they had security rules that didn’t allow me to work from home. The boss used to say not to stay after hours, but I figured this was the kind of thing bosses say to make the company sound friendly and accommodating but is actually a control freak thing intended to benefit the morning people, which I have never been one of. I can’t drive – the state won’t give me a license, with my eyes – and I have chronic insomnia and equally chronic problems with waking up in the morning, making it impossible for me to rideshare with any of my co-workers. So I generally have an intermittently employed friend of mine who shares my apartment drive me places, and this means I’m usually late to work. If I can’t stay late and I can’t bring work home, I fall behind on my projects. Also, I do my best work late at night when there are no distractions. So I was in the habit of going to the bathroom with all of my stuff around 5:30 and then coming out at 6 after my boss had left. I could sit on the toilet with my laptop and continue to work, answering emails and setting Outlook to send them at 8 am in the morning the next day to make it look like I work normal hours, and then when I came out I could get back to the serious programming work, because my boss wasn’t a programmer and had no idea how to check the timestamps of my build check-ins.

It turned out it wasn’t corporate bullcrap after all. It was vampires. Vampires would come into the building to hold meetings on some kind of irregular schedule that meant something to them. I’d been working late for almost two weeks when they showed up, mesmerized my housemate and nearly ate both of us, and I had to kill a few of them with the combination of a steak knife from the kitchen and the cheap bamboo chopsticks I have a few hundred of in my drawer because I’m always getting Chinese takeout for lunch. See, you can’t actually stab a chopstick into a vampire’s heart – it’s too fragile – but stabbing with a regular knife only takes them out of commission for the two minutes or so it takes them to heal. But if you then stick a wooden chopstick in the wound, it prevents them from regenerating, and bamboo is apparently wood for vampire-killing purposes.

Also, I had a black light in my laptop bag, suitable for detecting whether my cats have peed on my laptop bag before I take it to work because they’ve done it so many times I’ve gotten desensitized to the smell of cat pee, and while I don’t like looking at UV light – my eyes have zero protection from it, so it’s painful – it’s a lot worse for vampires, whose skin will burn from very tiny amounts of UV exposure and can actually set on fire. And it’s just astonishing how often vampires will stand there trying to mesmerize you while you walk up to them and stab them in the heart, because they just can’t comprehend “human who cannot be mesmerized”.

And now that I know vampires exist and that I’m immune to their most powerful weapon… well, shit. I’m kind of stuck. I don’t actually know any other albinos, or anyone else with rhythmic nystagmus, and for normal people, wearing the kind of dark glasses that make it so the vampires can’t see your eyes will completely prevent you from seeing anything in the kind of darkness vampires like. I’m the only one I know who can do this. And they don’t kill humans constantly – they don’t need to – but they spread disease (they can’t get blood-borne illnesses but they can sure carry them) and they tend to pick on weaker humans to begin with, people who have less resistance to the bad effects of losing a lot of blood, because if chronically ill people seem sick and lethargic everyone assumes it’s their illness and not vampires attacking them. They’re like humanoid rats, in other words. If you had a well-behaved pet one who never harmed humans and only drank from volunteers, that one would be fine. But the rest of them are vermin.

Now, the best time to kill vampires is during the day, when they’re sleeping. Vampires know this. You are not going to find them when they’re sleeping, and if you did, you’d have to fight your way through their security guards, who are human, and do not know they’re protecting vampires, and really don’t deserve to have to deal with people trying to kill them. Also, being security guards, they are better at mayhem than I am; I’m an IT guy. So, lucky me, I have to go after them at night, when they have all the advantages except one: they expect to be able to mesmerize me, and they can’t.

Nighttime used to be my time. No bright sun glaring in my face and giving me a sunburn. Everyone around me having such poor vision from it being dark that my bad eyesight isn’t a disadvantage anymore, and when it’s dark enough, my eyesight gets better than theirs because my eyes collect every single photon that hits them, no filters. I’d walk around at night, or crank up my stereo and write code until 4 am.

But every time it’s dark, now, I know: they’re out there. They’re hunting. Feeding. And if I don’t track them down and get rid of them, people might die.

And that’s why I can’t love the darkness anymore.

[ailithnight]

AT LONG LAST! The long awaited, month and a half late I’m so sorry, Sequel to Gifts from the Dark Side! So, yeah. I meant to have this finished and posted on Christmas... I’m very sorry to all the people who have waited so long they probably don’t even remember the first fic. Or those who have changed their url’s since asking to be tagged. I don’t know why but I got through about 4/5 of this and just... lost the motivation. And I didn’t want to force an unsatisfying ending for it, so I just kind of shelved it until I could find it in my heart to come back and finish it. Which I FINALLY did! Yay! So without further ado, here it is. 

Title: Gift from the Light Sides Words: 5687 (Mercy, I really did that!) Content Warnings: Some Angst. Panic Attack. Crying. Lots of Crying. Sleepless night. Mild self-deprecation. I think that’s it, but message me if I should add something.

General Tagslist: @moose-squirrel05, @didsomeonesayprince, @readeatfightlove13

Gifts from the Dark Side Tagslist: @uwillbeefound, @jughead-is-canonically-aroace, @highpriestessofthexeoniancouncil, @its-raining-cats, @lightlady599, @leesacrakon, @milomeepit, @lenakszak, @five-hour-anxiety​, @nightmarejasmine​, @theamberrose97​, @lizziepopanime​, @llamaly​, @cinquefoilelove​, @nerdy-emo-royal-dad​, @bangthekobrakid​, @soiguessthisismyusername​, @samidaboss3​

Virgil was honestly shocked by how much could change in just one year. Less than that really. Half a year more like. It was astonishing, wonderful, and terrifying all at once. Virgil didn’t typically handle change all that well. He couldn’t help it. Change meant differences. Differences meant new things that could go wrong. And Virgil was driven by his own nature as Anxiety, to imagine each and every possible and impossible scenario. Which is what he was doing now. Though this time, not for Thomas.

What if they’re angry at me? All those years of lying, what if it makes them upset. What if they hate me. What if they hate themselves? Oh god, what if they feel guilty? What if I make them feel guilty? What if they’re mad at me for making them feel guilty. I can’t. I can’t do that to them. But I can’t do nothing. I have to do something. Something has to change. What do I do? Dammit! What am I supposed to do now!

Here Virgil was, pacing a small circle in his room, wrapping paper of half a dozen varieties strewn around his room, tape and tissue paper making home of his space. The question had been plaguing him all month and now, here it was, December 24th, and Virgil felt no closer to a decent answer. In all those years, dreaming of acceptance, Virgil had never believed it even remotely possible enough to imagine the real-world implications. It was a genie wish, now coming true, and Virgil was facing the unforeseen consequences.

There were several benefits to being semi-fictional. One of which was an expedited healing process. Things that for a normal person would take days to heal, would take only an hour or two for the sides. Weeks became a handful of days and months not more than a few weeks. But even at this reduced rate, it was still taking the sides months of work and effort to recover from the psychological damage the past 28 years had done. Virgil was struggling in his own way, slowly but surely finding his place among the others and rebuilding his own sense of self-worth. Forgiving them had been easy, forgetting… not so much. And for the other’s forgiving themselves was a challenge almost as hard as Virgil’s battle. Guilt and shame and an intense desire to right the wrongs were only logical after discovering you had mistreated someone for so many years. Virgil knew they were struggling to come to terms with their past actions. He had no desire to make it harder. Which is why as Christmas Day drew ever nearer, Virgil found himself pacing his room trying to figure out what to do.

Patton had been so shy when asking Virgil if he wanted to celebrate Christmas with them. He made a point of emphasizing that Virgil didn’t have to do anything that he didn’t want to or feel comfortable doing. Of course, Virgil wanted nothing more than to spend the holidays with his family. Upon expressing this, Patton’s whole demeanor had shifted, becoming once more the bubbly, excited character he typically was. “Oh wonderful! It’s going to be so much fun having all the Kiddos together. You can help us decorate and bake and we’ll leave cookies for Santa and I’m sure he’ll leave you a present too this year.” That had given Virgil pause.

“I-I-I d-don’t know Pat,” Virgil stammered out. “I mean, he never has before. And I’m not… really the one who… has changed… a lot.”

“Nonsense!” Roman had exclaimed from the stairs, helping Logan haul down a large storage container Virgil assumed held the Christmas stuff. The noise had evidently startled everyone as Virgil and Patton both jumped and Logan almost dropped the box. Patton and Virgil stood to help them. Once the box was safely on the floor, Logan spoke.

“Virgil, I suspect that since Thomas has now accepted that you are a good guy, given that this is his mind, it is likely you will land on the so called ‘nice list’ this year.”

“Yeah!” Patton giggled. “I’m sure Santa knows you’re a good guy now! He’ll probably leave extra stuff to make up for all the years he messed up.” Virgil gaze shifted between the three of them, so hopeful and happy. He couldn’t find the words to tell them the truth, to dash their hopes and layer on the guilt. So, he didn’t.

“Maybe.” He muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Thankfully, they seemed to understand the Virgil wanted to drop the subject. They cracked open the storage box and together made the mindscape commons festive.

Now it was late at night on Christmas Eve and Virgil had spent the whole day in his room bouncing between monitoring video progress, then reception; and wracking his brain for a solution to his current conundrum. The three typically wrapped presents were waiting in their annual spot beside Virgil’s door. This year, Logan was receiving a nebula painted inside of an eye, Roman a fancy new journal and fountain pen, and Patton was getting an old polaroid camera with film and paper. The gifts themselves were not the concern for Virgil, rather it was how they should be presented.

If I give them as Santa, then I also have to come up with more gifts from me. What else could I give them? I worked hard on those. And what about myself? I can’t give myself a gift from Santa. That’s just messed up on so many levels. Besides, I do want to tell them eventually. Just not yet. Not when we’re in the middle of all this other shit. Fuck, what do I do?

An alarm went off on Virgil’s phone and he glanced at it. Midnight. It’s Christmas. Shit, shit, shit, dammit, fuck. I’m running out of time. Virgil pocket the phone and walked over to his door. He opened it quietly, listening to hear if the others were up. When he could here three sets of soft snoring and no one stirring, Virgil picked up the three gifts and crept downstairs, as was his normal ritual. Last chance to change your mind. If I leave them, they’re from Santa. Virgil worked slower than usual, taking extra care to be absolutely silent. He sat back to appreciate his work, still internally debating. Seeing them there, just like every year, but in a whole new light given recent events, Virgil made his decision. I can’t take this away from them. Not now. Not in the middle of all this other change. Let this tradition remain. Resolute in his decision, Virgil stood. He ate the cookies, this year not feeling the desire to consume them all given that he had been able to enjoy them all month. In fact, it was almost difficult to eat just the normal two and a half. He chased the sweet down with half the milk, then finally retreated back upstairs. Now to figure out what to give them from me.

Taking a few notes from the video, Virgil worked through the remainder of the night, barely even aware of the passing hours until sunlight began streaming in through his windows and he could give a shy smile at his newly finished creations. It wasn’t much, but Virgil hoped the others wouldn’t mind, chalking it up to Virgil not really knowing what to get them. He had expanded on the card idea to give Patton a small book full of puns and compliments and a long list of reasons Virgil loved the dad character. For Logan, Virgil had used his vast Tumblr knowledge to compile an alphabetical list of slang terms and memes, including notes of which ones were already outdated and which ones were old and would likely become outdated soon. Roman had been tougher. What do you create for Creativity. In the end, Virgil had written an epic-like poem, telling the story of the dashing prince who saved his kingdom from a monster called Boredom with his horse Inspiration and his sword Imagination. Virgil was quite proud of the trinkets, especially considering the time crunch he was working on. He stood and stretched with a yawn. He summoned a few gift bags and grabbed some tissue paper from the mess of his room. I’ll have to clean this up before anyone walks in. Once the gifts were packaged and labeled, he took them on downstairs, firmly closing the door behind him. Once the presents were under the tree, Virgil released a face splitting yawn, the sleepless night weighing heavily on his body. However, Virgil could tell, too many anxious thoughts sparked and swirled in his mind for sleep to be feasible. So, rather than go back to his room and attempt to rest, he wandered into the kitchen and made some hot chocolate (coffee was never a great thing to give the embodiment of anxiety). With his warm drink in hand, Virgil curled up on the sofa and flipped on the tv, muting it so it wouldn’t wake the others. He flipped through channels until he found a familiar movie, A Christmas Carol, and watched the scenes flickered by in a trance-like state of almost dozing.

“Good Morning and Merry Christmas, Virgil!” Virgil was jerked from his blank minded staring by Patton’s cheery tone. He looked around, noticing how much lighter the room had grown as sunlight filtered in. Patton giggled as he came off the stairs and wrapped Virgil in a hug from behind. “Couldn’t sleep, could ya, Kiddo.” Virgil hummed a vague affirmation, too out of it to produce words just yet. Patton giggled again and grabbed Virgil’s mug, still half full but now cold. “Logan and Roman will probably be up soon. In the meantime, would you like to help me with breakfast?” Finally coming back into full consciousness, Virgil nodded.

“Sure Dad. Sounds fun.” Patton gave him a bright happy grin, which Virgil returned with his trademark, shy half smile. Once Patton let him go, Virgil stood and stretched, groaning as tired muscles clicked and popped back into place after no less than an hour and a half sitting hunched on the sofa. Patton was already pulling out pans and bowls when Virgil joined him. “What do you need?” Virgil asked, walking towards the fridge.

“Eggs, milk, bacon, butter, flour.” Virgil pulled the ingredients as Patton listed them off. Patton cheerily taught Virgil how to mix up pancake batter while the father figure managed the stove. Somewhere in the middle, Logan came down and began to brew a pot of coffee. Roman was the last to come down. He set the table. As the house filled with the sounds of life and merriment, Virgil’s smile slowly grew. This is the life. Only after breakfast was eaten did Patton stand, a bounce in his step, and announce, “Present time!” With light chuckles, everyone moved into the living room. Virgil felt nervous energy well up inside of him, but he pushed it down, focusing on the easy warmth of being with his family. First the stockings were distributed and Virgil noted the distinct lack of coal in his own. Then Patton sat by the tree.

“You do the honors, Padre.” Roman told Patton.

“Okay!” He grabbed a present at random, carefully avoiding the Santa presents, and read the tag. “To Logan from Roman.” Logan took the gift.

“Thank you, Patton.” He tore into the wrapping, exposing a pair of soft, unicorn slippers.

“To match your onesie.” Roman clarified. Logan chuckled.

“Thank you, Roman. They shall see much use.” Virgil felt warmth blossoming through him.

“Virgil, next one’s for you,” Patton spoke. “It’s from me.” The father grinned as Virgil gingerly accepted the gift.

“Thank you.” Virgil pulled off the wrapper to find a framed picture. Tears sprung to his eyes as he recognized the image. It was a selfie Patton had taken with Logan, Roman, Virgil, and Thomas in the background. After the whole ‘ducking out’ thing, they had gathered in Thomas’s apartment for a good feelings jam and movie night. It had been one of the best nights of Virgil’s life. In the picture, Virgil was wedged between Thomas and Logan with Roman to the side. Virgil and Roman both had red tints creeping on their cheeks and Thomas was doubled over with laughter. Logan looked bewildered. The memory magnified the warmth in Virgil’s chest ten-fold. He cleared his throat, trying to speak without too much emotion. “I love it. Thanks Dad.” Patton flashed a grin.

This continued on, Patton handing out presents and everyone opening theirs and sharing words of love and appreciation. Patton had gotten a scarf, hat, and mittens set from Roman covered in cats and dog; as well as a joke book from Logan. He has squealed when he opened Virgil’s gift and Virgil could feel his cheeks burning. Logan and Roman both also gushed over Virgil’s gits to them. From Patton, Logan received one of those Lego Architecture set to build famous buildings and things. In homage to Sherlock, Logan got a set for London. Roman got a scrapbook of playbills from all of Thomas’s past shows and from Logan, a book about improv and method acting. Virgil got a Nightmare Before Christmas puzzle book from Logan and a new makeup set from Roman. Finally, they were down to Virgil’s Santa presents. Virgil tried to hide his excitement, ignoring the shooting glances everyone sent at the stack under the tree.

Logan opened his first. The soft gasp the gift elicited almost made Virgil giggle with bubbly joy. “This is… incredible.” He held the painting up. “The detail is simply astounding. Thank you, Santa.” Virgil hid his smile with a sip of cocoa. Roman’s was next.

“Magnificent! Just what I’ve been needing lately! Thank you, Santa.” Finally, it was just Patton’s gift. Virgil noticed the way his fingers trembled as he pulled the box near. He opened the box and pulled out the camera, turning it over in his hands. Virgil saw the tears well up in his eyes. “I love it. Thank you, Santa.” The underneath of the tree was now empty. Virgil closed his eyes and leaned back in the couch with a contented sigh. Suddenly, “I’m so sorry, Virgil.” Virgil looked up where Patton was now standing above him. The father looked conflicted and lost. Virgil’s eyes darted to the other two who seemed to be in similarly confused states. “I thought for sure… I don’t understand why he would leave you out.” Patton was almost crying now.

“Pat, what are you talking about?”

“Santa.” The damn broke and Patton sobbed. Oh. Yeah. That. Virgil gave the father a soft smile, standing to give him a hug.

“It’s okay, Patton.”

“N-no, it isn’t. It’s not r-r-right.”

“How could Santa be so callous!” Roman sounded affronted.

“Virgil,” Logan spoke, calmer than the other two, “You should have received a present to. You deserve one as well.” Virgil pulled out of Patton’s arms. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat and come up with some way to make it okay again.

“But it’s okay. I don’t need a present from Santa to know I’m not a bad guy. Besides, there’s nothing he could give me better than this.” Patton’s sob slowed.

“W-what do you mean, K-kiddo?” Virgil flashed a smile, a real genuine smile.

“All I ever wanted was to be accepted, to be a part of the family. I have that now. Nothing Santa could give would be better than that.”

“Do you mean it?” Roman asked, sounding choked. Virgil nodded.

“Absolutely.” Before he realized what was happening, Virgil was on the couch, wrapped in the biggest hug he had received to date. Warmth and happiness and love flared almost painfully inside of him. They sat just like that for a long while. After a bit, someone turned the volume back on, on the tv. They spent most of the day watching Christmas movies. At some point, Virgil’s sleepless night caught up with him, and he fell asleep wrapped in the embrace of his family.

 “You got him, Ro?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Patton.”

“He’ll sleep better in a bed.”

“I wonder if he slept at all last night.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if the answer was no.”

“Shh. Guys, you’ll wake him.”

“Take him on upstairs, then, Roman.” Virgil snuggles into the soft, warm wall he was held against by two strong branches. The distant voices fell silent and a gentle swaying lulled him back into a deeper sleep.

 Roman couldn’t help but smile at the lanky emo currently nuzzling his chest. It was only 5pm, but Virgil had fallen asleep. Patton mentioned he had been up when he had come down that morning and Logan speculated he didn’t sleep well, if at all. They had decided he should be put in bed where he could rest comfortably and Roman, being the strongest of the group, had volunteered to take him. He climbed the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle Virgil too much. It probably wouldn’t be good for anyone to have the embodiment of Anxiety wake up in an unexpected place being carried by someone. It took 4 minutes, but finally, Roman made it to the second story. Virgil’s door proved a bit of a challenge, but Roman finally got it to swing open. The sight that greeted him inside was shocking to say the least.

First and foremost, Roman never would have expected a mess. The one time they had popped up with Thomas in Virgil’s realm (which would be found on the other side of the room outside of where the replica of Thomas’s bedroom door was), it had been immaculately organized. Of course, there had been spider webs everywhere, but otherwise, it had been clean. Logan had hypothesized that obsessive organization was a side effect of anxiety. Virgil had confirmed that if he couldn’t find what he needed when he needed it, he tended to freak out. But the mess alone was not what brought Roman to a stuttering halt in the doorway. It’s what the mess was made of. There was Christmas wrapping all over the place, despite the fact that Virgil had used bags. Most surprising of all was the three rolls in particular that stood out to Roman, the three designs he easily recognized. His eyes darted around the room, trying to make some semblance of sense out of the chaos. An idea tickled the back of his mind, but the implications were so horrible, Roman couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. After several moments, Virgil shifted in his arms, and Roman moved. He cleared a spot on Virgil’s bed and laid him in it, tucking the covers snugly around him. Virgil shifted again and mumbled something incoherent before sighing and relaxing. Once he was certain Virgil wasn’t going to wake up, he made his way swiftly back to the stairs, leaving the door open behind him. He came halfway down before calling for Logan and Patton’s attention.

“I think there is something you two should see.” Patton was on his feet instantly.

“Why, Roman? What’s wrong? Is Virgil okay?”

“I… I think so. Just, come on. Let me show you.” Logan gave him s skeptical look, but got up and followed nonetheless. Roman showed them to Virgil’s room, where they all peeked in.

“What are you talking about? He looks fi-” Patton’s comment came to a stilted halt as he took in the whole room. “Oh.” Logan adjusted his glasses, then cautiously walked in. He picked up the three familiar rolls, balancing them in his hands, a thoughtful look on his face. “Logan? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…” Logan turned his gaze to their youngest counterpart, “I’m thinking we should discuss this downstairs.” With that, Logan snapped his fingers, the mess of the room organizing itself at his will. Logan kept hold of the three rolls and brought them out of the room with him, closing the door quietly as he left. “It would appear Santa is not who he seems.” With that, the three sides left Virgil to rest, and went downstairs for a long discussion of Christmas traditions.

 Virgil awoke feeling better rested than he had in a very long time. He came around slowly, blinking blearily to clear his sight of sleep. He expected to wake up in the living room, perhaps on the couch, with the others around him. But when his eyed finally focused, he was surprised to see the almost black blue that was his painted ceiling. He blinked a couple times. “When did I come up here?” He turned his head, expecting the absolute disarray that was his last memory of his room. He was met with confusion at the tidiness of his space, all the wrapping paper stacked neatly in a box by his desk. He wracked his brain, trying to remember cleaning up, until he noticed something. Or more specifically, something missing. Shock pierced his system and he sat up, slivers of fear immediately beginning to crawl up his spine and sit freezing cold on the back of his neck. “Where’s the wrapping paper?” He threw off the blanket and stood, stumbling slightly as his muscles woke up. He staggered over to the box and pawed through it, looking for the old, familiar wraps he has used for many Christmases past. It became increasingly apparent that the paper wasn’t there and Virgil became increasingly desperate to find it. He threw himself at his bed, checking underneath, but only finding his art supplies and canvases. He checked his closet next, only met with his clothes and a few shoeboxes of old photographs. The longer he looked but couldn’t find, the more panic welled up inside him. After 15 minutes of frantic searching, breathing became too difficult to continue. He sat at his desk chair, struggling to regulate his breathing. It wasn’t working and Virgil’s mind began to spiral away from him.

Oh god, what if they found them? What if they brought me to my room and they found the mess and the paper? What of they realized it was me all along? What if they hate me for lying to them all these years? What if they’re mad at themselves for not knowing sooner? What if Patton is upset that Santa isn’t real? Oh god, this is bad. This is bad, bad, bad. I should have cleaned up earlier. I should have dropped off the gifts and come back up to clean. Stupid. Lazy. Fuck-up. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up.

Suddenly, Virgil felt a familiar tug in his gut. He tried to swat the sensation away. “Noooo. Not right now. I can’t. I’m… I …I… noooo,” He whined, but the sensation persisted until Virgil was pulled into the real world.

“Virgil, what’s wrong.” Virgil couldn’t focus on the speaker, too caught up in his own self-deprecating, panicking thoughts. “Virgil, hey, bud, look at me.” Virgil tried. It took a few minutes, but eventually he was able to meet Thomas’s gentle gaze. “There you are. Can I touch you?” Slowly, Virgil nodded. Thomas reached out, placing one hand on Virgil’s shoulder, grounding him further. The other hand grabbed one of Virgil’s guiding it to Thomas’s chest. “Can you breathe with me?” Thomas breathed deeply, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Virgil fought to match the steady rhythm, panicked thoughts fading to the background as Virgil focused on the simple task. After several minutes, Virgil felt like he could breathe on his own again.

“Are you back with us, Kiddo?” Virgil was only mildly surprised to hear Patton’s voice. If Thomas had summoned him, it made sense that he had summoned the other’s too. Virgil flicked his gaze to the father, but almost instantly dropped it again.

“Yeah. M’here.”

“Good. We’re glad.” Virgil flinched back from Roman’s boisterous tone. “Sorry.” Roman amended.

“S’okay.”

“Virgil?” It was Logan speaking now. The logical trait has knelt beside Virgil. “Would you mind telling us what caused this attack? Perhaps we could help.” Virgil couldn’t bring himself to look up and meet their gazes.

“It’s nothing. I just… couldn’t find what I was looking for.”

“Oh. Well, what was it. Maybe we can help.” Thomas was as chipper as ever, if slightly concerned. Virgil glanced briefly at him, then at Roman, Patton, and finally Logan. They were all watching him expectantly.

“It’s nothing important.” They frowned. A thoughtful look crossed Logan’s features.

“Would it perhaps be these?” Logan grabbed something from beside the stairs and three familiar rolls of paper came to rest in his hand. Virgil looked between him, the paper, and the others. Their expressions were unreadable. Virgil felt heat rise to his face and he hung his head.

“M’sorry.” They seemed to get a reaction. Patton came down with Logan, wrapping Virgil in a half hug.

“Whatever do you think you have to be sorry for?” Virgil thought for a moment, trying to put into words the weight on his mind.

“For not telling you sooner. For lying for all these years.”

“Well, why didn’t you say something before? Did you think we wouldn’t believe you?” Patton asked curiously.

“No. That’s not it. I mean, maybe once upon a time, but not now.” Virgil was hesitant.

“Then what?” He prodded gently.

“I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“We would never be upset with you for this.”

“Not… not just with me. Not anymore.”

“I may be alone, feelings are not really my thing, but I don’t understand what you mean, Virgil.” Logan seemed somewhat baffled.

“I didn’t want you to be upset with yourselves. For excluding me. And for jumping to conclusions. You’ve all been trying so hard, just like I have, to be better and I know sometimes you struggle to forgive yourselves even though I’ve already forgiven you and I just… I didn’t want to make it any harder. Especially not right now. It’s… it’s Christmas. Christmas is supposed to be happy.” Virgil couldn’t stop his babbling until the feelings had had their say. It was always something he’d struggled with. Once the words were finally out there, a heavy silence settled over the room.

Patton was the first to respond and Virgil found himself engulfed in the father’s arms. Virgil looked at him, confused by the odd mixture of deep sadness and joy that seemed to be fighting for dominance of his facial expression. “Oh, Kiddo. Virgil. It’s so sweet that you want to protect us from that we love you for it, we really do, but…” Patton trailed off, a small frown forming on his face. Logan picked up where he left off.

“But you can’t protect us from that. It’s illogical and it will not help in the long run.”

“Logan is right,” Roman interjected. “We messed up in a most grievous manner. We caused you pain for many years. There must be consequence for our actions. We must atone for our sins.” Virgil frowned. That’s exactly what he didn’t want.

“I don’t want atonement. I just want to move on. I want to leave the past behind so we can just be a family.”

“Virge.” Thomas piped up, taking on his normal role of mediator and leader for his sides. “The only way to move on from the past is to acknowledge it. We all must come to terms with our past mistakes. It’s the only way to truly heal. That’s the consequence Roman speaks of. The healing process, forgiving ourselves and each other and learning how to be better, it’s a messy process and its going to take time. But in the end, it will be so worth it. Because isn’t healing so much better than pretending not to be hurt?” Virgil listened intently to what Thomas had to say. He was trying to take to heart what he was saying. At the same time, his brain made a connection that had a small smirk pulling at his lips.

“You sound just like you do in the videos. Are you sure you don’t have a hidden camera set up somewhere?” The easy wit did wonders for the tension in the room. Thomas and Roman both chuckled, Patton giggled, and even Logan let out an amused snort.

“No. No filming today.” Something occurred to Virgil then.

“Then why did you summon us all?” Thomas just chuckled again.

“Actually,” Patton chirped, jumping up. “He didn’t Logan and Roman and me were already here.”

“I,” corrected Logan.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Said Roman, rhythmically.

“What, is it National Talk Like A Pirate Day?” Asked Patton cheekily. Logan just sighed and shook his head. Virgil tried to hold back a chuckle, but failed and just barely managed to muffle it with his hoodie sleeve.

“Virgil.” Logan spoke seriously. Virgil swallowed nervously, something Logan didn’t miss. He made a point of softening his tone when he continued. “We were up here seeking help from Thomas. You see, with how thoughtful and generous you’ve been with your gifts for all these years, we thought it only fair you should receive something equally special from us. We required Thomas’s assistance in acquiring it.”

“Oh. Um. Y-you guys didn’t ha-ave to go through all that tr-rouble just for me.” Virgil stuttered out.

“They wanted to.” Thomas responded calmly. “I wanted to. We want to show you how much you mean to us, Virgil. We can’t make up for all those years we excluded and isolated you. But we can make dang sure you feel loved and included now.” Virgil ducked his head, hiding the soft pink spreading across his cheeks, which were on display since Virgil hadn’t put on his make-up yet.

“O-o-okay.” Virgil glanced up from under his bangs, catching the broad smile on each of there faces. Even Logan, Mr. Emotions are the bane of my existence, was sporting one. Patton had bounced over to the coffee table were a medium sized box wrapped in electric purple paper sat. He grabbed it and bounced back over, plopping down next to Virgil and sliding the box into his hands. Virgil noticed a card taped to the top.

“We hope you like it, Kiddo. It was Roman’s idea what to get.”

“Well, Logan picked out which one.” Roman replied sheepishly.

“Patton and Thomas made the card,” said Logan.

“It was a team effort!” Giggled Patton. “Open it up.” Virgil opened the card first. It was a home-made paper card, like the one he had received from Patton what felt like a lifetime ago now. On the front, they had drawn Logan, Thomas, Roman, and Patton with Virgil soaring above them on purple wings. It read: ‘For our Guardian Angle, who takes good care of us…’ Virgil opened the card. Inside, he had landed on the ground and the others had grouped around him in a hug. ‘Don’t be An-Jealous! We want to take care of you, too!’ Virgil made no effort to hide the smile on his face. He carefully slid the card back into its envelope. Then he turned to the box. He glanced up at them, looking for confirmation. The all gave him soft smiles and small nods. Virgil tore into the paper and opened the box. His mouth fell open when he looked inside. He glanced between his family and the box, unsure if this was even happening. “Well?” Patton pressed gently. Virgil’s hands fell into the box, pulling out the soft purple and yellow fabric. He began to unfold it, unsurprised when it took on a humanoid shape. The unfolding revealed pieces of orange fabric mixed in. Once it was fully unfolded, Virgil held in his hands a Spyro the Dragon onesie. Tears welled up in his eyes at the thoughtfulness that must have gone into this gift. He couldn’t even imagine what they’d had to do to get it here within the last 24 hours.

“It’s perfect, guys. Thank you. I love it. I love you.” It was weird saying it, after spending so long hiding those feelings. But even weird, it felt right.

“We love you to, Virgil.” They all chorused back. The tears spilled over, but Virgil found he didn’t mind. Not when Patton was there, gently wiping them away with his own tearful smile. They were all quiet as the cried out their individual feelings of overwhelming joy and love. After a while, Roman snapped his fingers, gaining their attentions. He beamed a broad smile, looking for all the world like he had just had the most brilliant idea in the whole world. Virgil was more than happy in that moment to believe that maybe he had.

“What does everyone say to a PJs and Movies Day with the whole family.” The others all responded with varying forms of yes. Roman looked at Virgil.

“Sounds good to me, Princey. But only if The Black Cauldron makes the list.” Patton bounced up with a giggle. He launched himself upstairs to get some extra pillows and blankets. Virgil stood too, coming off the stairs to stand with Roman by the TV. Logan moved off to the kitchen to prepare some snacks. Thomas went upstairs to help Patton and also to put on his pjs, the sides having snapped instantly into theirs.

“It can be first. But we are definitely watching a classic second. Cinderella.”

“I vote Aladdin third!” Thomas called down.

“Don’t forget Winnie The Pooh!” Patton responded from the top of the stairs.

“And Big Hero 6 if we may,” said Logan.

“Perfect!” Exclaimed Roman, “A day of favorites with all my favorites.” Virgil couldn’t keep the smile off his face. His new Spyro onesie was soft, warm, and comfortable. His family was all around him wearing their own onesies, save for Thomas (Virgil made a mental note to make sure Thomas got one, too at some point). It was the day after Christmas and for the first time in living memory Virgil felt like absolutely everything, down to the last minute detail, was perfect.

Part 2

[thedappleddragon]

haha here we go again

there's a lot of dumb ranting and 3 days worth of logs and a dream in here so im gonna spare evryone’s dashboard and just put it all under the cut.

tw bad memories, talk of unhealthy relations with food, and dreams about dead animals

I realized I kind of entirely forgot to write about what I did yesterday? I kind of did a lot. I know my mom wanted to work on getting tile laid out in front of her bathroom, so we worked together to scrub the concrete and wipe up all the dirt and dust and whatever was under the carpet and remove some of the nails in the floor and bring up a spiky metal strip between the bathroom door and where the carpet was. The other main thing I remember is deciding to continue work on my dress, sewing up the outer bodice, checking that the bodice and lining would fit together, deciding I’d rather have no different colored front panel, and working on the circle skirt. At first I tried cutting the fabric on my bed, but it wasn’t big enough and too lumpy. I contemplated asking my friends if I could borrow their dining table, but I ended up clearing off my own. After I traced and was in the middle of pinning, I accidentally knocked over a glass bowl that I had set on the chair. My mom heard it from the other room and had me come to her room to tell her what it was. She got angry at me, which I thought was fuckin stupid if it was an accident, but after some reflection while cleaning up the glass pieces, I kind of understood why. Mostly I got a little upset about 2 ceramic pieces I made during school breaking a little from the drop. One was a mushroom house from middle school that always makes me remember feeling like an asshole during peer review when I told my person to smooth their project more because I didn’t know “no improvement needed” was an option until I got back to my desk and saw my person saying it was good in all categories because everyone thought my project was great for some reason. The other was a bunch of flowers on a circle. It was the last project we did before quarantine hit, I think. That one is in less tough shape, just a couple flowers knocked off and a chip on one of them. They can both be glued back together, I guess. Then my mom called me back into her room to listen to her talk about wanting to eat huge amounts of food, because she’s clinically depressed with BPD and PTSD and DID and several other acronyms and her favorite coping mechanism is food, but her doctor put her on a diet so she can get her knees replaced, but recently she’s been getting into a zone where she talks about wanting to eat entire cakes and pizzas and buckets of kfc and a gallon of queso or whatever the fuck and she goes “doesn’t that sound GOOD?” And I have to laugh along and say “haha no that sounds bad actually” and get her a piece of ham or something. And every time she goes on her spiel the only thing I can think of is the greedy from the raggedy Ann and Andy musical. It’s just this horrible undulating orange blob that eats everything in sight and seeing it for the first time just made me think of mom and it made me very uncomfortable, with all the orange goo and hurling noises. Also reminds me of this horrible video game boss fight where it’s the apocalypse and a fat lady on a scooter took over the buffet and eats so much during her boss fight, during the defeat cutscene she projectile vomits everywhere and dies. My brother Greg showed me that thinking it was funny. I hated it, and I still do. He showed me a lot of things he thought were funny as a shitty little kid, and I remember several of them being very upsetting. It’s ok. I don’t want to dwell on it. But after cleaning the glass and talking to mom I brought my fabric to my room and called it a night. Oh wait my dad also helped me with some paperwork my coworker handed me so I could get on the payroll.

Today I woke up differently than I have in a long time. I set an alarm for 10 am so I could be at work by 11, but I woke up at 9 from a heavy sleep with dreams about hanging out with my friend in my room, worrying about my dirty house. I wanted to sleep longer, so I got up at 10 to have breakfast and get ready. I spent my shift changing the price tags all around the store, making everything more expensive. I’m gonna work again on Tuesday where I’ll learn how to use the register. I hope I don’t fuk it up, but I have a couple days to relax until then. Maybe I’ll work on my dress. My friends all want to go to prom together, so my new deadline will be March 2nd or a little before. I still need to buy a ticket, but I don’t have access to the link to buy one :( bleh I’m too tired right now to worry about this shit. I only worked 4 hours again today, but after I got home I felt like I could have worked longer if they gave me something else to do. The only price tags left to change were a bunch of grills and stuff I don’t know about but I don’t know if they had any other work for my to do. But I’m glad I went home tho because I was hungry and my feet hurt from standing lol. I did laundry and made myself dinner and washed my hair and drew a little bit and made the table and tbh the pacing of today has been so weird I don’t remember everything. It’s only 1am but I think I’m just gonna go to bed. my friends started talking about going to prom, and I really want to join them, but I can't figure out where/how to buy a ticket. my brain started being really mean to me, syaing that I was being annoying and pushy and that they didnt want me at prom for some reason, so I low-key almost made myself cry until my friend offered to let me be their platonic date since their partner couldn't go. 

last night I had a dream about a hard video game where when you played it, the black shadow enemies would fight you in real life, and one of them left imprints on my arm in the shape of lego bricks. they could only attack you so long as you played the game, and they tried to capture people and you were supposed to save them. I decided it was my time to play, and I walked into my garage that had turned into a cave with bat-people fused into the wall. I paid them no mind as I rescued a girl who was my irl brother, grabbing her hand and pulling her into another versoin of my garage which was uncorrupted and normal looking. she thanked me, and I said it was no problem. then I tricked her, telling her not to trust so easily, as I became one of the shadow enemies and engulfed her in a black sack, trapping her and leaving the room. I came back a couple minutes later, letting him free (now my brain told me he was my brother) telling him I just wanted to know if I was capable of tricking him, and didnt actually want to kill him or whatever.  another big chunk of my dream was taken up by me, my sister, and my dad visiting a run down petting zoo/gamestop. the petting zoo barn was very dark with low ceilings with lots of rabbits and pigs and hay. one of us accidentally killed either a pig or a tiger right next to the exit door, and I had to slink around the gamester trying to distract the owner and keep him from going in the barn and escaping at the same time. I dont remember how it ended, other than me waking up with a sore throat from breathing so deeply through my nose. I had slept on my stomach wit my pillow in my face so I could hardly breathe, and even after I woke up I felt like I wasnt getting enough air. I HATE that feeling, I always felt like I was suffocating in middle school for some reason. I thinkk somethings wrong with my airway but im not gonna do anything about it. im gonna continue to spend 80% of my day laying down so my resting heart rate and breathing speed is slower than an goddamn sloth. whatever.

right now as im laying in bed typing this I feel utterly unpoductive but I KNOW I did SOME shit today. but yeah mostly I relaxed. I worked on my dress, removing and replacing the blue front panel. I lost my exacto knife somewhere so I went to dollar tree to get a knockoff, along with snacks for mom and my sister. the blades aren't as sharp as exacto, but I still know where the name brands blades are so maybe Ill try and see if they're compatible. when I open the package everything was oily and gross, so I washed everything off with soap and water before I used them to cut the threads of the panel seams. I could have used my seam ripper but I wanted to get a replacement craft knife anyway. its kinda neat that it came with 6 different shaped blades for different crafts :) but uhh I also cut out the other half of the circle skirt of the dress, and I have a bunch of extra fabric left over. probably enough to make a whole other bodess if I wanted too. I used my sewing machine to attach the new front panel, and I was hoping to get more sewing done tonight, but when I asked my sister if it was ok for me to use my sewing machine (it right next to the wall between our rooms so she can hear it from there) she said she was going to bed soon so I just attatched the front panel and called it a night. so that kinda sucked. I still have another day tomorrow before I have to work again, and I can still work on my dress on Tuesday after work. idk why my brain thinks that one 4 hour shift is gonna take up my entire day lmao. I just have to get the whole thing done by may 2nd. GOD that reminds me, im gonna be so busy next month. I have six events back to back happening like every other day, plus work. oof. I'll have to let my boss know, but idk If that's gonna make him mad. I've already got pretty comfortable with the lady in charge of the garden center who’s taken lead position while the manager is on vacation, but I dont think I;ll every understand my boss. he’s a sarcastic busy old man and NOT AT ALL approachable. whatever. really the only other tings I did today were drink a shit ton of water play harvest moon, spend too much time on tiktok, and sraw a couple dum things for my friends’ princess au. I fucking HATE the drawing I did for Anna, so I designed her a secondary outfit more inspired by sky pirate bohemian vibes, since she rules over the floating islands. idk if I'll replace her old outfit with the new one in the lineup or just re-draw her old one with better shapes and composition and match the style better or what. I just need it changed eventually becasuse it looks like ass. tbh now that ve taken a little bit of time away from the princess au, there are a couple designs im not 100% satisfied with. but I know that if I go back and make them more detailed or whatever the’ll be more of a hassle to draw and aslkdfhalksdf I dont know anymore. I'm still tied up about color pallets and trying to give everyone a distinct color, and im a little upset it doesn't quite work, and FUCK dude the edgy one’s lore and character are weird and I kind of want to revise it to make it a little nicer but its not my character and I need to stop shoving my dirty little mitts into everyone’s ocs and AHAGHRGHGARGHHG idk man. her power is necromancy and she has a skeleton army, which I think I kinda cool, but I also think it would be neat if her powers extended beyond just that to communing with the dead, helping them find rest, and THEN maybe it can branch into helping fallen soldiers fight again to help them with unfinished buisness. and then if she goes feral and starts abusing her powers, she ignores all the communication and concent with the dead and instead magically rips them from thr ground to do her bidding and they’re uncontrollable and violent and aimless, just like her mind slipping from the magical blight infecting her. idk man we’re till working on a lot of lore. her concept could be SO COOL with just that little bit of extra thought, but so far it’s just MY POWER IS DEATH IM SO EDGY. ugh I know its fuckin rude to bash your friends oc ideas and I might be too overbearing and controlling of this au but dammit im tired and im mean sometimes and my ego is through the goddamn roof and im so sexy and im always right and my meat is huge. ah shit I rpomised my friend I would help her with character design for the dead king but I was busy when she firat asked me and now im not busy but im not doing it ugh. im just frustrated right now because I spent wayyyy to fuckin long just laying in bed watching tikotks and youtube and playing harvest moon an doing jack shit all day. but hey at least I attempted to get a new social security card again today. and them promptly gave up when they said my adress was invalid. again. I feel like im in an uncomfortable medium between having no plans and worrying about the future and having too many plans all the time oh my god. ive been so focused on getting a job and then having a job and making this dress I completely forgot about college shit. thankfully there's no hard deadlines coming up that I haven't already finished. whatever I dont really want to worry about all this hit right now, im just gonna take it one day at a time. (haha it feels like my angel oc just stepped in. how nice of him :) )

[byoungernj]

California International Marathon 2019

It’s taken me awhile to sit down and write about CIM 19, mostly because life went on and the urge never got strong enough for me to write. But what can I say. I had the best build up ever and the week of the race, my anxiety got the best of me and my gut. So as I sit at home in the age of quarantine, drinking a way to hoppy for me beer, I’ll try to recall this past fall.

Coming off of Chicago I was in a rough place. It was dark and miserable and I want to hug my counselor because she changed me for the better. In the spring, my body decided to check out and after months of doctors appointments and low, controlled mileage I discovered I was struggling through chronic fatigue syndrome. My legs hurt so bad simply laying down, I loathed the thought of getting out of bed. It lasted into the summer. I ran the Peachtree Road Race in Atlanta on July 4th for fun. I suited up in my Oiselle gear and poured sweat through the hilly streets, crossing Georgia off my list of states to run a road race in. After a few days off I started to build back up in prep for my CIM build up. One day, I don’t remember which one, I realized my legs had stopped aching. Runs were starting to feel normal again and running became enjoyable.

I had chosen CIM again because I wanted my next attempt at breaking 3 to be something I got excited for. The buildup to Chicago lacked any sort of emotion other than the f word. It is a decent size marathon, not a pancake of a course, usually great weather, and a fun trip overall. A friend of mine decided to join as well, making for a very fun travel party. It was through this spring and summer that I had begun a new ambition. I was taking prerequisites to go back to school. Having this new goal to work towards helped to keep me motivated outside of my usual run and work combo.

The first month or so of training was just so so. It was still summer in North Carolina and the heat and I are mortal enemies. Craig and I continued with similar workouts to my last CIM build up. The first half of that build up was in the summer heat of New Orleans, so it wasn’t surprising that my early workouts were better than before. But what excited me looking back at my old training journal was that I was putting together more cumulative weeks of quality workouts compared to the last build up. Workouts started to click sooner and I was running faster than I ever had. It was somewhere near the end of the first ⅔ of this training block that I had this overwhelming feeling post workout. For the first time in a very very long time, I was having FUN with training. I wasn’t staying up the night before a workout with anxiety or fear of how it would go. I didn’t dread the thought of getting up and putting in hours of running on Sundays. If a workout wasn’t completely hit out of the park, I was okay. A bad workout has to happen. I need to get it out of my system now so it doesn’t sneak up on race day.

Well the first bad workout happened to come on the day of my half marathon at the Bull City Running Fest. I ran this exact half in prep for my last CIM. It’s ridiculously hilly so keeping race pace on this course will give me an extra boost for the rolling hills of Sacramento. Well this year was a wee bit different. It was pouring. Like Forrest Gump big ol’ fat rain. I started to laugh on the start line that I put sunscreen on that morning. The course had changed as well. I found out a few weeks later it was due to a sinkhole a little too close for comfort on the old course. This year’s course had 3 hairpin turns that killed what I considered momentum that day. From the gun my legs wouldn’t move. I hit the first mile which is half uphill but after that I struggled a bit. After the first 8 miles I found myself counting down how many miles were left until I was done. I became frustrated at how it felt we only ran uphill. I would turn a corner, boom uphill. Get to the top, turn another corner, boom steeper uphill. Around 9 miles I checked out. I was so frustrated at how off this day was and that this damn course was terrible. I came in slower than marathon pace but what I was most angry about was where my mind went. It was as if everything I had pushed past this fall was hiding out in Durham.

What made me proud though was that a few days later I decided to give myself another chance. There was a half in Raleigh 2 weeks after Bull City. It was a cold, beautiful day. My legs felt light and free. I started out too fast but the pace felt comfortable. 13 miles later I pressed the pace and finished with a PR and an overall female win. That was the effort I knew I was putting together in my workouts. That was the effort that showed I was in the best shape of my life. It made me want to race CIM already but unfortunately I had to wait another 6 weeks.

The rest of training continued to go great. So great it began to worry me when I started to taper. Had I not gotten enough bad efforts out of my legs to prevent it from popping up on race day? Workouts were faster, I closed long runs faster than goal pace, I felt strong. But my dear friend anxiety decided to roar back day by day as race day got closer. I became even more of a germaphobe, I wore a mask on the train back from Thanksgiving, I was convinced I was going to get sick so much that when my throat started to feel rough the Wednesday before, I felt the weight of the world come off my shoulders. But it wasn’t a sense of relief, it was the emoji where the girl is shrugging with her hands in the air. Welp, I was sick. But looking back, I don’t think I really was because after the race was over, the throat discomfort was nowhere to be found. The day before the race we ate at one of the restaurants my mom and I had eaten at 2 years prior. I had the same dish I had then as well. But after that meal my stomach felt way too full. When dinner came around, I didn’t have any sense of hunger but I knew I needed to eat for fuel. That night I was tired but my stomach had a different agenda. I spent most of the night in the bathroom. Not urgently but frequently. I usually don’t sleep much the night before but this was by far the least I’ve ever slept.

Come race morning I felt no better. I tried to down my typical morning fuel but was still too full. Also, reflecting back, I was so off my game that morning. I planned like a rookie and almost ruined my friend’s race morning as well. I planned to get to the buses way too late so we stood in line for over a half hour. Once we got out to Fulsom I thought we’d have some time to sit on the bus, as I did last time. I was wrong. After sitting for a little, we ventured out to way to long bathroom lines which prevented me from my normal warm up and me completely panicking trying to drop off my bag and get into my corral near the pacer. I made it but was completely unsettled. I took a few deep breaths but was uncomfortable not having gone through my routine. I looked to my right and saw an old college training partner. A ‘side hug’ helped ease my nerves. The weather was not ideal either. It was humid and overcast. It had rained that night and drizzled a bit during parts of the race.

The gun went off and I settled down. I was tucked in right behind the pacers. One of them was who I had followed 2 years ago, which made me happy. Around 8 miles I started having negative thoughts. Some in the frame of ‘we’re only at 8 miles?!’ others ‘you have so far to go, this is taking forever.’ I fought them off and tried to focus on other things or combat them with positive rebuttals. Around mile 10 my legs started to not feel so great. I was actually a few steps in front of the pace group but tried to keep them in ear shot. I took a mile or so to slow up for them to catch me and for my legs to recover.  Around mile 10 my legs started to not feel so great. Again the negative gremlins came into my brain. My response was this is just a rough patch, you’ll be fine, stick with it. But 4 miles later I was still not feeling so hot. I had come through the half realizing I was straining and had 13 miles to go. It became a 1 mile at a time race. The ‘rough patch’ wasn’t going away. It was around mile 14 I knew this wasn’t going to be the day. At mile 16 I fell a few steps behind the group at a water stop and I realized that was it. The group was gone. I kept a pace that allowed me to have them in site for a few more miles.

A small side story. At CIM 2017, I got to see a former college teammate and his twin at the Oiselle afterparty. I hadn’t seen him since college and it was great catching up. He was so proud of his brother and it radiated off of him the entire afternoon. Sadly, a short time after his brother took his own life. I’ve seen him once since then and couldn’t embrace him long or tight enough. The day before this years’ race, he reached out to me that he was there and running in his brother’s honor. After the group was out of site, I saw him on the side of the road talking to someone. I called out his name and he jumped in for a mile with me. We shared a few thoughts of his brother and I struggled to find the right words of how proud his brother is of him and that he was there with him. I made plans to see him after and I grabbed his hand before I told me to go ahead. Had I not been having this type of day, I would have never shared that with him. Silver linings.

Around mile 23 we cross a small bridge. On the bridge was a ‘cheer station’ of women on bikes. In a moment, I noticed their signs said ‘TR Loves You’. I have no clue what TR stood for in this context but TR to me stands for my hometown of Toms River. As I crossed the end of the bridge, there sat a little corgi. The combination of these two little ‘signs’ brought tears to my eyes and smacked me out of my pity party. My legs took off and my watch told me I was back on my original goal marathon pace. I was almost done and got the motivation to finish the best I could. This may not be a sub 3 marathon, but it was going to be a fast time for me. The final half mile of CIM makes a U. This anticipation of the first of two left hand turns lasted forever. Way longer than I remember. Once I reached it I made the last turns, legs burning for the past mile. I crossed in my second fastest marathon time. The friend of mine from the start was at the finish, she had finished a few minutes ahead of me. Neither of us had the day we wanted but not the worst day. Not a Chicago.

Another side story. The friend who had come to run the race with me was chasing a BQ and on a quest to beat her dad’s marathon time. I sat down on the curl just beyond the finish line. No one was bothering me so I realized I could sit there and if she made the time, I would see her. I ended up being told I could not sit there any longer just seconds before I looked up and saw her. She had blown her dad’s time out of the water and was on her way to Boston. I was more excited for her race the entire weekend and I enjoyed the moment at the finish of her achieving her goals.

Looking back that evening, my stomach still unsettled, I was disappointed. The day did not reflect how fit I was. I had gotten ‘sick’ at the wrong time. I gave myself a few days before I decided on my next goal. During the race, after I had fallen off, I had already begun to brainstorm where I would make my next sub 3 attempt. I made myself wait two full weeks after the race before I clicked register on my next marathon. I was finally loving training. I actually was missing training for the first time ever in my life. I set my sights on Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth Minnesota that June. It was a place I’ve never been too, the home of my favorite pro Kara Goucher, and a fast course. I was prepared to train through what would be my last collegiate season as an athletic trainer. I am heading to physical therapy school this coming August so this would be one last celebration of miles.

I look back and realize I was never sick. I was anxious. I learned this when the pandemic took over the United States and the phantom throat discomfort returned the day the reality of the situation really hit me. I had grown so much in my fight against this invisible jerk. Yet it got the better of me yet again race week. Heading into this build up I welcomed the distraction of the baseball season. I thought it would help in occupying my anxiety. But the world had a different plan. Grandma’s is now cancelled. Not postponed, cancelled. More silver linings as I am now sitting at home with an injury that is preventing me from running. I can physically run but it’s extremely painful during and after. For the first time in my adult life, I have time to sit and relax and rest and heal. I’m taking it for what it is. I am signed up for the NYC Marathon in November and am hoping to simply enjoy the day.

Now I am proud of CIM 2019. It was not what I knew I could run but it was my second fastest marathon. If a 3:04:14 is an ‘off-day’ for me, that’s a pretty good thing in my book. Before the race was cancelled I was back to ripping workouts. I was back enjoying running and training. That feeling will come back. Racing will return. And I’ll run CIM again because it is still my favorite marathon. Peace and love Sacramento.

[paddy-nic]

Hognesia (Pt. 4), a Sonic Boom fanfic

I. Am. So. Sorry. It shouldn’t take a year for me to finish a story - especially a short like this little thing. So to keep this pre-story drabble to a minimum (since we all hate it when writers do this), I present to you the final installment of Hognesia. Enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The night was quiet. The bugs and noises from the outdoors penetrated the simple hut walls to a point where he thought he was camping. Sonic of course couldn’t sleep after that long day. Not only was it a very interesting and tiring one – waking up with amnesia, learning he can run at super speeds, falling for his ‘old friend’ – he also found it extremely uncomfortable that his ‘old self’ would sleep on the couch with his legs raised above his head! He shifted and turned uncontrollably as he was fed up with trying to force comfort upon himself. “Ugh! The fox said this is how I normally sleep?!” He grunted.

“Pst!” That definitely wasn’t a natural outdoorsy sound.

Sonic’s ears perked up. “Huh?”

“PSST! Sonic, old pal!” The voice came from just out the closest window. Sonic got up to investigate. Before he did though, he found the necessary urge to twist his back to crack it to relieve himself from the tension he was forcing upon his muscles and joints in his attempt at sleep. He staggered over to the window and looked out. “Hey! How are you, uh, friend?”

“Um, who are you?” Sonic asked. The bags under his eyes from the previous sleepless hours were quite prevalent as he looked upon his ‘friend.’

“What?! Sonic, you don’t remember your bestest friend of all time? It’s me! Egg-uh…mond… Edmond!” The man was standing out of a bush and had his arms fully extended in a way of presenting himself.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told I hit my head and lost my memory so can’t say I do. Plus, no one ever mentioned an Edmond…” Sonic blatantly explained.

“Well, it sounds like they aren’t your friends if they didn’t mention your best buddy! Er, who was it that didn’t tell you about me?” He leaned in to limit the distance between him and the hedgehog as if they were talking secretly.

“Amy, Tails, Knu–”

“Oh NO! You didn’t run into those guys did you?” Sonic’s eyes grew in a surprised manner at the sudden interruption that occurred causing him to end his statement abruptly. Edmond seemed very shocked and concerned. “I’m just glad you are safe if that’s the case!”

Sonic’s expression now changed to concern and interest. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well… they’re the bad guys Sonic.” Edmond stated. Sonic’s ears dropped back and his face sagged a bit as he stared off slightly. “Yeah, they have been plotting to seize control over this island for years. But you and I have been able to hold them off since then. It seems that,” Edmond gave an exaggerated gasp, “it seems that they may have altered your memory as a diabolical plot to use you against your own knowing will!” Edmond covered his mouth with his hands trying to look as shocked as ever. His face contorted to a comforting demeanor and his mustache drooped down to the sides. He reached out his hand and placed it on Sonic’s shoulder. “Hey, buddy, don’t feel bad. Besides, I have a plan to defeat them once and for all! Meet me at the beach tomorrow at 10am okay?”

Sonic curled his brow and clenched his fists. “You got it…Friend.”

…

Sonic once again found himself on the examiner’s table in Tails’ Workshop. The fox was walking around staring down at a clipboard in his hands and occasionally rubbed his chin in contemplation. “So my initial analysis shows that you have no permanent brain damages but your memory doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of recovering. You say you still don’t recall anything past yesterday when you woke up?” He stopped in front of him.

Sonic was looking bored and answered flatly, “Nope.”

At this time Sticks and Knuckles showed up. “Hey-hey! Tails!!” Knuckles said excitedly. “We were going to go to Hornet Hive on the other side of the island. I was gonna throw rocks at them while she,” Knuckles tossed a fist and thumb in Sticks’ direction “was going to harvest the nest for some of her crazy mumbojumbo supplies.” Sticks did nothing but enthusiastically nod in concurrence to the echidna’s statements. “We wanted to see if you wanted to join us!”

Tails was frozen at their irrational request. “Normally I’d explain how crazy that is, but for now I’m just going to say no.” He went back to looking at his charts.

“Well, what about Sonic! Maybe some adrenaline would be good for his government mind-control condition.” Sticks explained to which Sonic’s eyes grew in confused concern. She kept talking. “What d’you say!”

“Uh, sorry um…wait, I got this.” Sonic said and began to rub his chin in contemplation. Sticks crossed her arms know exactly where this was going. Sonic then snapped and pointed his finger toward the badger. “Stones!”

“Sticks.” She annoyingly corrected him.

“Sticks.” He said instantly to cover his fault. “I was close.” He looked at Tails and shrugged.

“GUYS!” The shrill voice pierced the workshop and caught the attention of each one present. Zooey ran in. “Eggman is attacking the village! He’s got two StrikeBots now!” She exclaimed.

“Two? We scathed by on one with Sonic’s memory as the casualty! Now we have two?” Tails stated sounded concerned. He looked back and saw that Sonic had vanished. “Sonic?”

…

“Ahahahaha!” Eggman cackled from up above another fleeing crowd as he shot lasers from his floating transporter. “Run you furballs RUN!” He then let out another cackle.

Meanwhile, the two StrikeBots were wreaking havoc on the town. They’d swivel and turn with their boosted arms and slam into trees and buildings causing explosions of debris.

Without moments to spare, the gang of heroes showed up, Tails Knuckles Sticks and Amy, all ready to fight. “You got us good with that thing last time Egghead,” Tails took charge with the taunts in his best friend’s absence. “but we know what we’re up against! You won’t catch us off guard this time!”

“Ohohohoh, but that’s where you’re wrong foxy.” At his statement, Sonic jumped up from behind one of the StrikeBots and slammed onto the ground with one knee bent and a hand to brace the impact. He looked up and slowly rose to both his feet.

“What?” Amy stated in perplexity.

“Alright friend. Let’s do this. ATTAAAAACCCCKK!!!” At his command, Sonic jumped up and dove right between the quad. Luckily they all dove out of the way.

The gang scattered; Tails flying up high, Amy diving off into a roll and conjured up her hammer, Sticks and Knuckles ran to the side ready to jump in at the opportune moment. Sonic was naturally quick to follow and charged over at Amy. He came at her at a speed that was much slower than his newfound norm but was easily manageable for his pink foe. She held up her hammer to counter his pounce. “Sonic, what are you doing!”

Simultaneously, one of the StrikeBots swung high toward Tails. It missed and slammed its fist into a large tree that overhung the area. The force busted the trunk and caused the top to plummet. Sonic saw this and immediately curled up and shot himself toward the tree top that was now surely going to cause some hefty damage to the building beneath it. He crashed into it and shattered it into pieces of tiny debris. They rained onto the building causing minuscule damage – nothing compared to what might have happened if he didn’t.

“Huh?” Tails sounded off in perplexity at the sight.

Next, Knuckles and Sticks worked to try and take out the bots. They took one out before so they knew they could. Knuckles picked up Sticks to toss her toward the mechanized beasts. As he threw her, Sonic was quick to intervene. He met her midflight and grabbed her wrists. Twirling her around as he spun naturally, he released her and threw her back into the echidna to catch her fall. He landed and looked over at Amy. The pained look on her face was near torture to him. Their eye contact was short lived as Sonic steeled himself and turned back to the fight, heading toward Knuckles and Sticks.

A StrikeBot then smashed its fist down toward Amy. She dodged and took a heavy swing of her hammer to the machine. It left a hearty dent but didn’t seem to do much else in terms of disabling the mecha. While she was distracted, the other StrikeBot propelled one of its arms toward Amy. In the fray of it all, Sonic bounced from sparing with Knuckles and Sticks and accidentally knocked into the arm of the StrikeBot assaulting Amy causing it to miss.

He flung back in recoil, landing on his back and sliding a bit. He sat up and held his head, shaking off the result of the miscoordination. “Geez Edmond! Watch where you are flinging those things!” He shouted.

“Heh, sorry.” He responded coyly.

The effects wore off quickly and Sonic jumped back in. The fight ensued for a good while. Occasionally something would happen that would either endanger a bystander or possibly cause a large extent of damage and Sonic always seemed to coincidentally keep such events from occurring. This went completely unnoticed with the exception of a quick witted fox.

Worn and tired, Knuckles slowed to a point to get hit by a StrikeBot strong enough to blow him back but nothing more. Tails was flying now with Sticks in his grasps in an attempt to get an aerial advantage. But Sonic was all too fast and lunged at them. “Sticks I’m letting go!” Tails told her in preparation to drop her to lessen anything that might happen with the three’s collision. He did so and she landed next to Knuckles. At that same time, Amy cartwheeled back to them and stood braced with her hammer in hand, huffing with exhaustion. Sonic then collided with Tails in the air and it was then Tails had confirmation of his suspicion as the trusting Sonic gave him to knock him out of the sky was nowhere near his full potential. In fact, it mirrored a simple game of tag that they played many times. Tails landed on his feet next to his friends as Sonic followed.

He stood in front of them and looked down as he got ready for what seemed like a follow-up attack. He looked at their faces. Fear in Sticks’ eyes, confusion in Knuckles’, anticipation in Tails’…and sadness in Amy’s.

“HAHAHA! That’s it Sonic! Now finish them!” Eggman called out with joyous affirmation.

“Just one thing first Edmond.” Sonic gave Amy a grin that she knew all too well. He turned around and quickly leapt toward one of the StrikeBots. He curled into a ball and spin dashed right through the thing’s torso and out its back where the main controls were. His momentum came to an end when he landed sideways on a nearby building and pushed off again to make a second round. This time it was opposite of his previous trajectory and came smashing through the second StrikeBot, controls first and torso second. He seemingly landed in the exact spot in front of Amy Sticks Tails and Knuckles as he was a split second before. The two StrikeBots fidgeted and crashed in an explosion that sent its pieces in all directions.

Sonic turned to Eggman. “You really think just because I don’t remember a thing, I would fall for one of the oldest cliché’s ever?” Sonic continued with a mocking tone. “Oh he lost his memory so I’m going to turn him against his friends!” He then let out a raspberry. “Pffff. Come on Egghead. Besides, I don’t need to remember anything to tell who my friends are, some things are just obvious!”

Eggman smacked his fist on the console of his floating device and let out a growl.

“Not only was Edmond a way too obvious cover EGGMAN… Seriously, what kind of idiot–”

“I am a genius you insubordinate rodent!” Eggman shouted out.

“Sure. Well that’s hard to believe when you come creeping to my window in the middle of the night where as these guys have been with me since the moment I lost my memory. Not only that, they knew more about me –”

Eggman cut off Sonic’s monologueing. “I will not have it!” He shouted. “I was hoping for a victory in a traditional Eggman fashion but I guess I’ll have to resort to Plan C!...or was it D… Oh, anyway!” Quite exaggeratedly he drew his hand in the air with a single finger extended and slammed it into a button releasing a single missile from his personal flying machine.

It caught the heroes by surprise as the missile launched quickly toward them. “Sonic look out!” Amy shouted as she lunged forward and swung her hammer with perfect coordination. It smacked the missile and switched its trajectory to some point high and far. Unfortunately, the momentum of the swing was too strong and Amy couldn’t stop it until after it slammed into the side of Sonic’s head. With the tremendous force of the hit, Sonic was thrown off his feet and landed back unconscious on the ground.

Above the scene, Eggman used his hand to bar the sun’s glare from his eyes as he gazed at the far off missile. “Huh… Kind of heading toward…” He heard a loud explosion followed shortly by a buzz on his radio communicator.

“Uhh boss? We got a problem at the lair.” Orbot called.

“Who dropped a missile here? I thought we were the only one with those!” Cubot was overheard in the background of the transmission.

“Grrrrrr!” Eggman grumbled before turning and floating off. “This doesn’t end you rats!” He retorted in his retreat.

Nearly by a local villager, who happened to be a rat, heard the insult. “Ugh! That is highly offensive!”

In the aftermath of the battle, Sonic was still lying on the ground motionless. “SONIC!” Amy shouted as she ran over to him. The others quickly followed. She propped his head on her lap as his eyes fluttered open.

“Ugggghhh…” He groaned and began rubbing the baseball sized lump on his head. “What happened?”

“Oh no!” Knuckles shouted frantically. “We lost both Sonic AND Memory-Loss-Sonic’s memory!”

“I didn’t lose anything Knucklehead.” Sonic said sitting up, still rubbing the sore spot. “And what memory loss? I remember everything.”

“Everything as in the past couple days everything? Or everything everything?” Tails asked.

“Everything means everything Tails. We were at Meh Burger Eggman attacked, I got hit.” Sonic explained.

The statement first gave some confusion as a lot had happened since the event he mentioned. It was not hard to conclude that he seemingly didn’t recall his state of amnesia. But the rest of their confusion quickly fell to reassurance as smiles beamed on their faces. “Sonic you’re back!” Amy said as she threw her arms around him, giving words to what everyone was thinking. Soon the rest followed suit in a massive bear hug.

“Geez guys, calm down…Back?” He responded, not going to further argue against the affection he was getting.

…

The group hung around to help clean up the mess from the battle. Luckily there was minor damage so it was an easy task. Tails gathered a lot of components from the StrikeBots that he could use for his own personal products and inventions while Knuckles and Amy were compacting the rest into smaller, more easily manageable pieces to get taken off out of the village center.

“And that should do it!” Amy said, wiping her brow with her forearm. She turned and saw Sonic staring, dropped her expression and turned away. Sonic noticed the droopiness that overcame her and walked over.

“H-hey Ames. So uh, crazy fight huh?”

“Yup. How you feeling?” She asked, a bit down but entirely sincere.

“A massive headache but other than that…” He gave her a weak smile. Amy knew she should be happy he had returned to normal – as she very much was! – but it had seemed like the experiences of the past couple days were gone with the return of his normalcy. So many thoughts and emotions were surging through her. Amnesia Sonic had revealed a lot of feelings toward her. How was she to know whether they were legitimate? Was it all just part of the innocence of being without memory for the short time? Or were those feelings still somewhere suppressed for whatever reason in her old friend?

“Look,” Sonic continued. “I can tell you’re acting a little weird and uh…” He blinked awkwardly as Amy looked away. “I just, um.” He stopped. “Thanks.” He gave as much as a smile as his nervousness would allow.

Amy looked up at him. “What?”

“Thanks for being there through that whole mess. Me being, ‘out of it’ and all.” He explained, revealing he did recall it all – even everything in his state of amnesia. Amy’s cheeks instantly became flushed with all the blood rushing to her head and gave their color a test to her namesake. “I know we’re friends and all but…” Now it was Sonic’s turn to blush heavily. His hand shook as it reached out to grab hers. “Maybe you can show me some more old dusty ruins sometime?” His lips quivered and rested in a squiggled nature in a failed attempt to form a confident smile.

Amy looked away sheepishly and smiled in return. “I– I’d really like that…Good to have to you back.”

[trade-baby-blues]

Bye, Bye, Bye

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Warnings: swears, angst

Word Count: 1938

A/N: requested by @auduna-druitt a million years ago. Based on the song “Rockabye” by Clean Bandit. I’m so sorry it took so long. I’ve been crazy busy between work and school! I didn’t follow the prompt exactly, because the mom isn’t in Starfleet :( Hopefully you still like it though! I didn’t proofread it because I wanted to get it posted. I’m gonna go back and fix all the errors when I get a chance. 

Between the hum of the fluorescent lights and the sound of cars passing on the highway, sleep clouded your mind. There were no customers. Of course there weren’t. Who in their right mind would stop at a run down diner in the middle of Nowhere, Iowa during a winter colder than you’d ever felt (not that that was saying much since you moved up from San Francisco a few months ago).

Ran away, a voice echoed in your ears. You pushed it out of your mind as you rested your head on your arms across the countertop. As your eyes fell shut again, the bell chimed and the door opened, letting in a chill.

You snapped up, eyes going straight to the small bundle of coats and blankets curled up in the farthest booth. You watched the blankets rise and fall before sighing deeply.

“Sorry if we woke you up, sugar. Someone decided it would  the perfect time for a road trip back home.”

The deep, grumbling voice warmed you up, despite the cold, and seemed to belong to an equally grumbly man. He glared at his blond friend, who seemed to be enjoying himself a lot more.

“I told you we could take the shuttle. You’re the one who said you prefer driving,” the blond said before taking a seat at the counter.

“I spend enough damn tim in artificial gravity and besides, shuttles crash. You should know, Jim. How many have you crashed at this point? Half a dozen?”

The blond man quieted down and you took the opportunity to offer both men some coffee. It was easy enough to figure out they were starfleet. Even if Jim had been able to stop talking about their mission for more than 5 minutes, ou clocked them as soon as they came in the door.

“Can I get you boys anything else? You smiled sweet as you could, hoping the men would give you your tip and keep on driving.

“Mm, I think I’m gonna need bout ten more slices of this pie, sweetheart,” Jim said.

“No more pie. Doctor’s orders.”

“Aw come on, Bones. You’re no fun.” Jim turned back to you, a sly smile on his lips and  look in his eye that made you groan internally. “How ‘bout your number instead? Bones smacked Jim hard in the arm and he yelped in pain. “What the hell, Bones?”

“I told you not to bother the lady.”

“No, you said don’t other the pretty lady,” Jim said, voice teasing. Bones’ features darkened. He looked ready to strangle Jim, who was clearly holding back laughter.

“Mommy,” a soft voice said from the corner. Aiden stuck his head out from the blankets, barely reaching over the table. His hair stood at all angles, and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“It’s okay, baby. Go back to sleep.” He nodded and slunk back down into the booth. You turned back to the two men in front of you. Jim was turned toward Aid, but Bones kept his eyes fixed on you.

“He yours?”

“No, I like to collect small children is all. They’re good for cleaning small spaces.” You smiled, clearing away the empty plates. The first hint of a grin reached Bones’ lips and you felt a swell of pride. You could tell by the lack of laughter lines he didn’t smile nearly as much as Jim.

“How old is he?”

“Four. He’ll be 5 in a week.”

“Dad must be proud of him,” Jim cut in.

Your smile faltered. “Wouldn’t know.” You turned away, stacking plates in the sink. You heard another smack and furious whispering. Then, silence as you scrubbed the dishes clean.

Bones was the first to break the silence. “My wife and I got divorced too. Our daughter Jo was about your son’s age at the time. You hazarded a glance at Bones, noticing a softness to him you hadn’t seen earlier.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I’m not.” It was barely a whisper and could’ve just been wishful thinking, but you heard Bones’ voice in your head the rest of the night, even as you dropped Aiden off at your parents’ house and got ready for your shift at the grocers.

Time trickled by like molasses off a cold spoon. The monotonous beep of items being scanned as the same top 40 hits playing on repeat made you wonder if you were actually dead and trapped in some sick purgatory. Your mind wandered and you thought about how your life had gotten to this point, from full ride to single mother. You were painfully aware that your parents couldn't understand but you would change it for the world. Aiden meant everything to you, and you wanted to give him everything you missed out on.

“Didn't I just see you at the diner, Y/N.”

The voice caught you off guard and your eyes shot up, drinking in the messy hair and dark circles under Bones’ eyes.

“Oh thank God,” you said. As your brain caught up with your mouth, you flushed a deep red and tried to apologize, only managing a garbled stream of words that embarrassed you even more.

“Don't hurt yourself now, sugar,” Bones laughed. It was a laugh you dreamt about. Well, you probably would’ve dreamt about it if you’d slept between the diner shift and the grocer.

“If I do hurt myself will you ki-”

“Mommy,” Aiden yelled, cutting off what would have been your best attempt at flirting in years. “Mommy, mommy, grammy and I came to see you!” Aiden wrapped himself around our legs before looking up at you with his big ol’ eyes. You couldn’t even be mad at him.

“I see that, pumpkin,” you said, ruffling his hair, “But I thought grammy was taking you to the park.”

“Oh yes, well, Deborah called and invited me over for a round of bridge and brandy so no park today.”

You stared at your mother. “And bridge is more important than your grandson?”

Your mother pursed her lips. “Yes well, I had hoped for more time to play bridge before I had one. I must hurry off or I’ll miss the first hand. Ta-ta.”

“Wait! Mom!” You tried to follow her, slowed down by Aiden holding onto your leg and giggling. “Mom, I can’t watch him. I’m at work. I’ll get fired.”

“Then you should have thought of that before you got pregnant, dear. We told you you weren’t ready.” With that, your mother turned on her perfectly polished heel and walked away. You closed your eyes, pulling Aiden closer to you and attempting to find some footing. Everything felt like it was falling apart. You knew you couldn’t let it. Not here. Not in front of Aiden.

“I know I’ve got no business offering, but I can watch the kid for you.” You turned around, excuses poised on your tongue. You’d never relied on a stranger for help. You weren’t about to ask Bones, but he cut you off. “I’ll stay right outside on the little toy car. You can see us through the windows. ‘Sides, It’s 3 p.m. You gotta be getting off soon, right?”

You read the honesty in Bones’ eyes and sighed again. “In an hour, yeah.” You fished in your pockets for some money. “Will you buy Aiden some lunch? I’m sure mom didn’t feed him yet.”

Bones held a hand up. “My treat. I insist.” You didn’t have enough energy to fight with him, so you stuffed the money back in your pocket and bent down to kiss Aiden goodbye and to remind him to stay in sight.

Somehow, the next hour went by even slower. You kept glancing out the window at Aiden and Bones. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. You could hear them laughing whenever the doors slid open, and you smiled every time. Finally, 4 o’clock rolled around and you clocked out as fast as you could, wanting nothing but a nice long nap. Aiden seemed to have other plans, of course.

“Mommy, Lee said he’d take me to the park. Can we go to the park?” Aiden tugged at the bottom of your uniform apron.

“Lee?”

“Short for Leonard,” Bones said.

“Well, I’m sorry Lee,” you teased, “but we’re gonna have to say no this time. Mommy needs some sleep. Come on, Aiden.”

“But mommy I wanna go to the park! You promised I could go to the park today.”

“I know baby, but grandma was supposed to take you while I was at work.”

“She didn’t! She didn’t take me. She said mean things and told me to stay in my room.”

Your blood immediately began to boil. “What mean things did she say?” Aiden quieted down, kicking the gravel with the toe of his shoe. “Aiden,” you said, dropping to his level, “Baby, you know you can tell me.”

He looked up through his lashes, eyes teary. “She said she didn’t want me. That my daddy didn’t want me and that’s why he left. And she called you names that I didn’t understand.”

“What names.” You were fighting to keep your voice level.

Aiden furrowed his brow, trying to remember. His voice was almost too small to hear when he spoke, but it was still strong enough to break your heart. “She said you were a whore. What does that mean, mama?”

You closed your eyes and stood up, holding tightly to Aiden’s hand. “It’s a grown-up word, sweetie. You’ll know what it means when you get older, like me. Now, let’s get you home.” Thankfully, Aiden accepted the explanation with a serious nod.

Bones placed a hand gently on your free hand, stopping you. There was sorrow in his eyes and a crease on his forehead, like he was thinking hard about what to say. Finally, he let his fingers slip between yours and held your hand, refusing to look you in the eye as if he was a lovestruck schoolboy again. “Maybe we can go to the park tomorrow if you’re free. We could have a picnic.”

“It’s supposed to snow,” you replied.

“I’ll pack extra hot chocolate.” Leonard brushed his thumb over the back of your hand and it felt like fire shooting up your arm. Your heart sped up from that one little touch and the soft smile Bones gave you was hot enough to melt the snow.

“Will there be marshmallows,” Aiden chimed in. “I love marshmallows. And we can build a snowman! Mommy, please can we go. I wanna build a snowman and have a snowball fight. Please please pleeeaase.” Aiden pulled on your apron again, pouting . You would’ve done anything for that face, and he knew it.

Smug little shit, you thought to yourself. “Okay, but mommy has to go sleep for about twelve hours first.”

“Yay! Thank you mommy!” Aiden threw his arms around your legs again before jumping over to Bones and giving his legs a tight hug too. “See you tomorrow Lee! Don’t forget the marshmallows!”

Leonard laughed again, and as the sound filled your ears all your worries slipped away. “I promise I won’t, kiddo. Now you be good and listen to your ma, okay?” Aiden nodded furiously, taking hold of your hand and beaming up at you.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Lee,” you asked Aiden.

“Oh! Yeah!” Aiden waved his arm wildly at Leonard. “Byyyyyyyeee!!”

“Bye.” Leonard smiled, waving to Aiden then to you.

“Bye,” you said. The corners of your mouth were still turned up into a smile that stayed with you even while you slept.

Tag list: 

@outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @yourtropegirl @trekken81 @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art @atari-writes @pabegay1 @bolontiku  @brooke-taylor0323 @daybreak96 @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory 

[scriptmedic]

If a healthy but claustrophobic 28 year old women was trapped in a stone coffin in a crypt with her arms bound behind her back (as part of a kidnapping), approximately how long would it take for her to run out of air and suffocate, and even if she survived, would there be any long-lasting health affects?

YOU! You I refer to Popular Science, who did [some of the calculations] on this. 

The short answer is “it depends,” the long answer is “depends on how big she is” (and thus how much room there is for air in the coffin). Their math said +- 5.5 hours of air time. 

Earth’s atmosphere is 21% oxygen. (This is true at all altitudes; even though you can’t breathe at 60,000 feet, it’s still 21% oxygen, it’s just that the partial pressure is VERY low.) 

The PopSci calculation assumes that there’s about 886L of space in the coffin, that the human takes up 66L of space (average), and therefore there’s 820L of air. Since air is +-20% oxygen, their math says, or 164L. Humans consume about 0.5L of oxygen a minute (true), so their math says your character would take 5.5 hours (328 minutes) to expend all the O2 in the air. 

The first thing wrong with their estimate is that adult human females (average) use +-250mL of oxygen a minute, not 500; congrats, your character’s time just doubled to 11 hours! 

Now I’m going to cut it by 75%. 

Note that there are two factors they didn’t take into account with their maths. The first is gradients. Respiration – gas exchange – only works when there’s more oxygen outside the body than inside the body. (Same thing for carbon dioxide, which we’ll get to shortly). 

Humans inhale at 21% oxygen and exhale at 16% – you don’t use all of the oxygen in your breath. But what that also means is that you might run out of oxygen quicker, because for breathing to work, there must be more oxygen in the air than there is in your lungs. This is diffusion across a gradient. 

So what you might get is cessation of respiratory functions when PO2 in = PO2 out – when the air reaches 16% oxygen. Now we’ve got ¼ as much time (11 hours / 4 = just 2 hours and 45 minutes). 

This also works with carbon dioxide – to exhale CO2, there must be more CO2 in your lungs than there is in the air. I don’t have the math handy for whether or not it’s faster or slower than the rate of oxygen consumption; it’s early as I write this and the coffee hasn’t hit my adrenal glands yet. But CO2 buildup is a factor. 

When you hold your breath for too long, it’s not hypoxia that makes you scared and trembly and feel like you’re going to die; it’s hypercarbia (elevated CO2). Your character, the claustrophobic, will hyperventilate and build up lots of CO2 in the coffin; she may cause herself significant problems even before hypoxia kicks in. The hypoxia will be slow (hours), the hypercarbia may be much faster (minutes?). 

However, high levels of CO2 also put characters to sleep; hypercarbic narcosis is a thing. Sleep means reduced O2 usage, which means longer survival. 

Long answer short: Could be 2.5 hours, could be 11 hours, could be who the frickity frick knows but a full day is out of the question. 

As for health effects 

If she survived, there are basically two outcomes possible. 

Outcome 1: she’s in distress when they find her but gets better within a few hours with no long term effects. (Medics will give her oxygen, which will help.) 

Outcome 2: she’s been hypoxic for long enough to cause brain damage, and she’s got a form of acquired brain injury, specifically an anoxic brain injury. 

Ongoing problems from anoxic brain injury, via [Chicago Rehab Center]: 

The first signs of anoxic brain injury is unconsciousness and coma, they may also experience unresponsiveness even when awake. Cognitive problems is another symptom of this injury. Short term memory loss, poor judgement, difficulty using words and problems processing visual information are signs of anoxic brain injury. Some physical signs of this kind of injury include a lack of coordination, unable to do common tasks such as drinking from a cup, jerky, involuntary movements, weakness in the arms and legs, and headaches. The other signs of anoxic brain injury include a change in personality, delusions, unable to concentrate, and confusion.

Hope this helped!! 

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

[disclaimer]

[Come to Patreon, the land  where the inbox never closes!]

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[loljulie]

stay with me; {004} love sick (part 1)

(the title is supposed to be a pun hopefully you get it omg. sorry it took a while for an update, college orientation took a while and i was so tired when i finally got back. here’s chapter 4, and hopefully i’ll have the second part up soon. enjoy lovelies ~)

genre: dunkirk

collins x reader

word count: 2165

September ended, October came and went, and November arrived. With it, even colder winds and rain that lasted days on end. As a result, most of your dates with Collins took place indoors. One that was particularly memorable was a trip to the library where you’d take turns reading from books to each other, the two of you laughing at how the other would pronounce certain words in their accents. It was difficult to keep quiet, which earned you some angry looks from the other library visitors.

Without fail, Collins stood in front of the pub the two of you always agreed to meet at. Sometimes, you’d start your dates off with a pint to warm yourselves up with the chilly, autumn weather. You noticed as you approached that he was bundled up in more layers than usual – but thought not much of it, as you too were regretting not adding on another sweater to your ensemble.

The cold was harsh, you had to admit. You strolled up to Collins, noticing how bloodshot his eyes were. Initially, you thought he might have been crying and instantly wondered what was wrong. He also didn’t greet you with a kiss, which sent a twinge of worry down your spine. He did, however, smile when you came into view.

“Hello, love,” you greeted with a smile, your hands pushed into your pockets to shield them from the cold.

“Awright, darlin’,” Collins nodded. When he spoke, you instantly realized what seemed off about him.

His voice sounded congested – and if that along with the other signs didn’t tell you what was really wrong, then the sniffing he did immediately after he spoke would’ve. He was sick, and he still got out of bed in the morning to come see you. You’d never seen him so unenergetic in all the weeks of being together, and knowing that he still went out in the cold weather to see you despite his illness both warmed your heart and made you feel guilty.

“You’re sick,” You stated, less as a question and more as a matter of fact. He nodded sheepishly.

“Nothin’ tae serious,” he replied, though he visibly had to stifle a cough as he spoke. “I will be fine for th'day.”

You bore your eyes into his, your mouth hardening into a straight line as you watched him sniff a few more times. “It doesn’t look like it,” you said, and reached a hand out of your pocket to feel his forehead. You were shocked – your hand cut through the icy air and cooled down tremendously only to be warmed up with the fever he was running. Your next sentence came out more astonished than upset. “You’re burning hot, babe.  

“Am I?” Collins asked, failing at pretending he didn’t feel the fever. His voice was slower, as he seemed to be untensing at the feeling of your cold hand against his forehead. You pulled it away slowly.

“You need to be in bed, love.” You replied, and though you were stern in your statement, your tone was soft and light toward him. “You’ll only get worse out here.”

“I kno’, I kno’,” he said as he sighed. He then gazed into your eyes, looking defeated. “I juist wantit to see ye. I wouldn’t mynd me getting worse as lang as I git to be wi’ ye.”

You heart fluttered at that. It’d been a while since you had someone in your life who earnestly loved you and wanted to see you as often as they could – and you were sure your parents didn’t count.

“Look, we can’t have you out here getting even more ill,” You protested, and noticed how his eyes fell and focused on his shoes, saddened by the fact that he’d have to part from you after only spending a few moments together. You decided that the trip wouldn’t be wasted; for if this man was so eager to see you, then you’d stay with him the entire day if he wanted. “So, I’ll take you home and take care of you there.”

Collins shot his head up, his eyes searching your face and to find a smile and a twinkle in your eyes. “Really?” he asked, his congested voice sounding lighter with a note of hope added to it. You nodded in response. “'n’ ye don’ mynd?”

“Would I offer it if I minded?” You asked rhetorically, chuckling at how excited he was getting. “Does getting ill affect your brain, too?”

“Funny, you are,” He answered with a chuckle and nodded his head toward the street behind him. “Mah hoose is doon this wey.”

“Lead on,” you said as you wrapped your arm around his. You gingerly placed your head against his shoulder. He began walking a few steps before he cast a look at you.

“I’m afraid I will git ye ill if ye'r too close.”

“Don’t you worry about me; my immune system is tough as nails,” you reassured. Though somewhat true, the real reason you weren’t afraid of getting sick from Collins was because of the resources you had when you got back. Where you’re from, medicine advanced so far that the common cold could be treated with one pill and disappear within an hour, tops. Amazing development for the world, though it took away a common excuse for calling out of work of school. Even if you did get sick from him, it wouldn’t last a few minutes.

“A'richt, bit oinlie if ye'r sure,” he said a bit uneasily. You smiled and looked up at him.

“Your concern is very adorable, babe,” you replied and reached up to place a kiss on his cheek. You saw the spot where you kissed redden, and your smile widened as your rested your head back against his shoulder.

The walk to his house was shorter than you expected. It was just on the outskirts of town, a good distance from his neighbor – which must have meant silent, peaceful nights – and one story. The sun was just beginning to set as you arrived, causing the temperature outside to drop even more.

The front door led into a modestly decorated living room – nothing too bold but not void of any personality, either. A brown couch was in the middle of it with some tan throw pillows atop it. On the walls were pictures of people who you guessed were family members. A deep brown wooden coffee table took up space by the couch, with a newspaper and some flimsy drink coasters on top of it. A large window offered a view of the outside fields, and when it got dark, it would be shielded with some light blue curtains. To the right of the front door was a small dining room, fit for a circular wooden table and two matching chairs.

Collins retreated down the hallway after he removed his coats and opened a door to his right. As you followed, you saw an open doorway that led to a kitchen on your left. You stood in the doorway to his bedroom, leaning against the frame as you watched him open up a drawer.

“I’ll get you some tea, alright?” You said. A nod from him was all you needed before you turned around and walked into the kitchen just across the way. You saw that a kettle was already on the stove, making one less object for you to scavenge to find.

Once you filled the kettle, you placed it atop a burner and let it start to boil while you searched for the tea bags. They were nestled in the pantry – the second place you looked for them. You find some cups in the cupboard to the right of the stove, and set them on the counter.

Where you’re from, making tea takes only a few seconds. A small machine will hold water and a small compartment for whatever hot drink you’re making, and it can heat up the water in seconds. It’s incredibly efficient, especially for busy mornings when you need your coffee fast. As you sat and waited for the water to boil, you couldn’t help but get impatient at how long the process was taking.

Eventually, the kettle began to whistle as steam erupted from the spout. You sighed in relief, whispering ‘finally’ to yourself as you opened the lid and tossed the tea bag inside. After taking it off the burner, you let the tea steep for a few more agonizingly slow minutes, and soon it was ready to be poured.

The entire process felt like it took forever, but soon you were walking back to the bedroom with two cups of tea in your hand. Collins was already in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chest. His eyes were closed when you walked in, but they opened once you placed the tea on his bed.

“Thank ye,” he said, his voice low from how congested his nose was.

“Of course,” you replied with a smile. “I didn’t know if you wanted anything else in it, so I just left it plain.”

“Plain is juist how for I lik’ it, actually,” he reassured. After he blew a bit of steam off the top, he took a sip from the cup. You did the same, and though the tea was fresh from the kettle, it was bearable and warmed you up comfortably.

You took a moment to look around his room. A dresser lined the wall where the door was. Beyond that, an open-door lead to what you guessed to be a bathroom, judging by how the floor changed to tile. The bed was opposite the front door, with its headboard against the wall. On either side of the bed were two tall windows that currently were obscured by darker blue curtains. A bedside table held a clock and the new cup of tea. Along the right wall was a small closet and a wooden desk with a matching chair. You pulled the chair out, faced it toward the bed, and sat down in it.

“Do you need anything? More blankets?” you asked, setting your cup down on the table next to his. Collins shook his head. You noticed how droopy his eyes were getting, as if he was fighting every urge to close them.

“Na na, I juist wish ye cuid join me under ‘ere,” he replied, his voice slow and sluggish. You guessed his body was trying to get the man to sleep so it could do some more healing on its own, as it was still so early to be so tired.

“Who said I couldn’t?” you chuckled, as you got up. You removed your outer coat and placed it on the back of the chair before walking to the other side of the bed and sliding in under the covers. Collins turned to face you as you sunk into the warmth of the cotton streets.

“You’ll git – ”

“I know,” you knew what he was going to say before he could even finish his statement – and frankly, you didn’t need to be worried about getting sick. “I’m already going to catch what you’ve got from being around you, so might as well make the most of it, right?”

Collins couldn’t argue against that, so he relented and wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. You let out a soft sigh as you breathed in his scent, your eyes closing as your muscles relaxed in his embrace. Slowly, you felt your eyes fighting to stay open as well with how cozy you were.

“Y/N?” his drowsy voice called out, and you only murmured in response. “I love ye.”

Your eyes shot open, suddenly immune to the inviting hands of sleep. You looked up to his face, searching for any sign that he had misspoke. All you found was the content, sleeping face of Jack Collins.

Did he mean that? Or was he just torpid, and not aware of what he was saying?

You nestled into his arms to relieve your suddenly-tense muscles. Those three words replayed repeatedly in your head, wondering what they could have meant. You peeked over at him a few more times to see if he had woken up and was going to explain himself.

You realized soon, though, that maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe he had meant exactly what he said – and that the right time to say it was when he was in your arms. Maybe he was so sure of what he was saying that he didn’t need to hesitate before it or think about it afterwards. And, you realized, you were sure of it, too.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, glancing once more to his face, before turning to gaze at the ceiling. Sleep came back to you, just as inviting as before, and soon you dozed off just as easily as the man you loved had.