#i really do be out here dropping the first chap a week ahead of schedule

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a sequel.

chapter one: genesis

word count: 5.8k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: naughty language, religious blasphemy, cults amok, massively canon divergent (if you’re here then like...you know), body horror and horror in general, brainwashing, manipulation, you know the drill. john is himself, and thus: deserving of a warning. in this chapter specifically, brief mention, in passing, of mass suicide.

notes: hi friends! yes, i'm aware that this is a week early. i apologize. i wanted to get this chapter out while i had the thoughts in my head; not a lot of exciting stuff happens, most of it is just... setting things up for where we're going and where we're going to be, but i hope that you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you, of course, to my beta reader @starcrier​; this chapter was in a lot rougher shape before she got to it. if you have the chance, please check out her writing--she is just absolutely incredible! 

and thank you to everyone who did me the GREAT blessing of reviewing and supporting ancient names. i really can't believe i'm out here!! with people interested in what i have to say about this fucking nutso canon-divergent universe i am building! gosh i just hope y’all enjoy it. fun stuffs to come.

summary: —to fall like a wounded animal into a place that was meant for revelations.

there are many injustices that john seed will tolerate. the betrayal, and subsequent departure, of his wife and child is not one of them.

or: elliot honeysett just wants to live her life in quiet seclusion, and there's no way in hell that's happening.

“This is a very old story.”

It was cold, and dark, and the night stayed cloudy and moonless. As Helmi picked up the gun clasped between the two corpses, she glanced furtively in the brunette’s direction. Her gaze was impossible to read, the severe lines of her face accented only by the dim, flickering light of the neon sign; Kajsa had always looked like this, though, sharp like broken glass was, reflecting only and not taking anything in. Protected.

Helmi lifted her gaze back to the dead pair at her feet, up to the neon sign that blinked The Spread Eagle, and then down and stopping at the words written in dried blood on the paneling.

WRATH, DO YOU WANT TO BLOOM IN ME?

“You and me,” Kajsa murmured, and now it was her turn to watch. “Them. Eden’s Gate, and the Mother. All of it has happened before and will happen again.” She sighed, as though it troubled her, the dark arch of her brows pulling together to knit at the center of her forehead. With the only source of the light being the bar’s sign, her skin was an eerie, pallid red-and-blue, darting and worming across her expression. “We’ll turn this world into winter, Hel. The two of us.”

Helmi watched her for a long moment. “Kajsa—”

“Douse them.” She stuck her hands into the pockets of her sweater, turning and stepping over the two other dead bodies they had dragged from where they had been propped up against the wall. “I want this place in ashes by sunrise.”

“Yes.”

Kajsa didn’t wait for her to begin walking to the car, idling still a safe distance away. Helmi preferred it that way. For a few minutes—and that’s all it would take, really, to unlatch the canister lid and toss the gasoline over the bodies, against the paneling of the wall, atop the roof—she could turn her brain off, forget the way Kajsa’s eyes see straight through her, forget the bodies of her brothers and sisters as she tossed the match on them and watched the flame eat through the fuel.

Hungry. A beast. Like me, Helmi thought absently, as the flames licked at the sky, reaching reaching reaching. Watching them felt like watching the souls of her brothers and sisters reaching for the stars, carried away in wisps of foul-smelling smoke. She wondered, do they feel it now? Do they feel the sting, the burn? When their bodies haven’t been given to It, do they feel it all after?

“Come, Helmi,” Kajsa called from the car. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”

They had been at it for hours, this methodical and clinical extinguishing of bodies. Every spot that they had agreed and picked out on the map in such an instance was now blacked out. Burned. Their brothers and sisters had done what was expected of them, and for that, they would not be forced to rot—they would be turned to charcoal, to ash, only blood and bone spent.

Her feet carried her back to the car as the flames began to devour more than just flesh, crawling along the rooftop of the Spread Eagle and popping in the still, quiet night. Kajsa’s hand came up to her face and cradled her cheek, fixing her with those eyes: dark eyes, shades of gray and glassy, like a shark.

“Ingenting under solen är beständigt,” she said, the pad of her thumb brushing across Helmi’s cheekbone. For a second, the older woman almost looked like—well, looked like something, an unknown flicker of emotion crossing her face—but then it cleared.

Hel watched her curiously, waiting until the hand against her cheek dropped before she said, “I know, Kajsa.”

Kajsa nodded. Only once, short and brisk, the gesture as sharp as the lines of her face. “Make sure you do not forget.”

I won’t, Helmi thought, but did not say. Kajsa had never believed words before, and she would not start now. Helmi would just have to show her that she had not forgotten.

She looked back; the singeing of flesh fizzing in the air, the crackle of devouring flame whispering to her. A cleansing fire. Their bodies weren’t given to The Father, but they had given in another way, with their lives—in a way that still mattered.

“Kajsa,” Hel said, bringing the woman’s attention back to her, “do they feel it, still? The fire, when they’re gone?”

“Perhaps,” Kajsa replied, jaw absently working something wadded just in the hollow of her throat; words she wanted to say, and could not. Or would not. It was always hard to tell, with Kajsa. “It’s not for us to know. The after belongs only to the dead.” The dark-haired woman opened the driver’s side of the car, pulling her gloves off of her hands and tossing them inside. “Get in the car, Helmi. I want to keep track of that interloper.”

Interloper. The kinder of the words that what remained of them had been using for John Seed and his merry band of fuck-ups and patience-testers. Heretics, zealots, apostate—

The list was unending. Helmi wished she could run out of disdain, but she knew that she would not be able to. Sorrow and mourning for those they had lost came in absolutes, in fixed amounts, but the bitterness persisted. She swung into the passenger side of the car, shutting it against the smell of burning skin, and exhaled slowly through her nose.

Kajsa pulled the car away from the sight. Hopefully it would be just as the harbinger wished—by sunrise, Hope County would be leveled by fire and flame, nothing but ash and ruined structure left. If the scraps of Eden’s Gate didn’t try and douse it out. If they didn’t continue to interfere.

She glanced out the window to the sky. The tires of the car hit the highway, and Kajsa clicked the cruise control on, and as tendrils of smoke clung to the stars, the clouds parted and the light of the new moon filtered down. Just a sliver of her light, but cold and cruel and reliable all the same.

“It’s pleased,” Kajsa said lightly.

Hel made a low noise of agreement, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the glass. “Are you?”

“Not yet,” the older woman murmured. When Hel glanced over at her, her eyes were fixed on the road; the headlights switched off, and in the far distance, she could see the tail lights of another vehicle glowing red as blood in the darkness. Seed, Hel thought through the haze of her exhaustion.

“But very soon, I will be.”

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One Week Later

“Are you warm enough? Where’s your scarf? Elliot?”

The door was only inches away, and yet—somehow—she’d managed to not make it out without the barrage of questions that typically accompanied any of her departures. Taking in a soft breath, Elliot closed her eyes for a moment, leaving her hand on the door handle.

“I am sufficiently bundled,” she promised, turning to regard her mother, standing in the foyer. “I don’t need a scarf between the front porch and the car.”

“Scarf, please,” her mother murmured, deigning to set her martini glass down in order to pluck it off of the coat rack. Elliot watched the movement curiously—not because she had never seen her mother set aside an alcoholic beverage before, but because these days it seemed more often than not that she was beginning to slow down on them; a thing which Elliot never thought she would see. Part of it might have been the sudden upheaval of having her grown, child-carrying daughter and dog suddenly move in with her, and part of it may have just been, well, time—but either way, she didn’t think she could ask.

There were some things that were just better left unsaid.

“Okay,” Elliot relented tiredly. “I’ll wear the scarf.”

“It’s not just about you anymore, bunny.”

“I know, mama.”

“So wear the scarf—”

“I am,” she insisted irritably, making a great show of flinging the scarf around her neck. I know it’s not just about me, something prickly inside of her said, I fucking know, it’s never been about me, and it’s especially not about me now.

Scarlet eyed her for a moment, wary. This had been happening a lot more now, too—these odd, lingering looks her mother had begun to favor her with. It was the same way Sheriff Whitehorse had looked at her, and the same way Burke had looked at her that last time before she—

Well.

Forcing her tone to lightness, Elliot said, “Happy?”

“Hardly,” her mother replied tartly. “No reason to be spending time around horses in your delicate condition. And you’ve been so irritable as of late—”

“It’s supposed to be good for anxiety.” Elliot glossed over the additional barb blithely, years of muscle-memory kicking in now.

“Getting some sleep would help your anxiety.” Jab, jab, duck, her mother’s tell-tale movements, skittering across their conversation like so many little spiders. It had been so long before this that she’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be engaging in a constant verbal battle with someone who was supposed to love her.

That wasn’t necessarily true, either. She had plenty of experience ducking and parrying verbal punches from someone who claimed to love her, as of late.

“I don’t—” Puffing out a sharp breath through her nose, Elliot passed a hand over her face. Sleep had not been her friend, not before and certainly not now. Too many strange, unnerving dreams about handsome, blue-eyed men with flowers blooming out of their eyes for her liking. “I’m not taking medication that’s not prescribed to me, mama. Sorry. But it’s like you said, it’s not just about me anymore. Right?”

Scarlet picked up her martini glass, waving her hand as she turned to head back into the living room where the fire still glowed warm and hungry in the hearth. Yes, there was nothing she would have preferred more than to give in to the despair and apathy welling up inside of her, curl up under the blankets in her bedroom, safe and tucked away in a perfect bubble; but she couldn’t, because stronger than that apathy was an uneasiness, anxiety that vibrated just under her skin.

Not safe, it told her, during the day when she was trying to relax and at night when she was trying to sleep. Not safe, not us.

That was the real gut-punch of the whole thing. Before, the paranoia, the anxiety, the hyper-sensitivity—they had all been things that served a purpose. Her body had been ready for constant assault because she had been under constant assault. But now? Now, she was in bumfuck-nowhere Georgia, with no bills to pay, no job to maintain, only one task: be healthy, for baby. Be happy, and healthy, and do it for baby, because that was her only responsibility. She could no longer function as a single autonomous unit because she was not, by all intents and purposes, a single. Autonomous. Unit. And yet?

And yet.

And yet, the off switch was broken, somewhere in her brain. Broken, or locked behind bars, or somewhere that she couldn’t reach it. Her brain still liked to think she was under constant assault. And if Scarlet’s verbal fencing skills were anything to go by, maybe it was a fair judgment of the situation.

“...standing there for?” Scarlet asked from the couch, her voice filtering in through some strange fuzziness that had erupted in her brain.

“Just—thinking,” Elliot managed, forcing a smile onto her face. She could tell it fell flat from the way her mother regarded her, but she cleared her throat quickly and glanced at Boomer, waiting patiently by the door. “You gonna take care of mama, Boomer?”

“He certainly will not.”

“Protect the homestead.”

“Elliot—”

“He can’t come with me to the barn,” Elliot informed her mother primly. “He’ll be well-behaved here, I promise.”

Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. It was something that couldn’t be argued, Boomer’s manners, and so finally she said, “Just don’t be gone long, then.”

Nodding, Elliot opened the front door and slipped out, keys clutched in her hands. The first snowfall of the winter had hit; it was still fresh and powdery, crunching underfoot, and by the time she was carefully pulling out of the driveway, she had nearly forgotten about the strange static fuzz rattling around in her head.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot lifts the glass of champagne to her mouth. Here, John can see the wedding band on her finger—gold and simple, for now. He’d promised her something nicer after things quieted down. She’d said, of course, that she didn’t need anything nicer; she was happy with the one she had. With him.

He thinks that she has never looked so beautiful, bathed in the romantic glow of fairy lights, hair pinned back and the white of the wedding dress dappling lace across her skin. And wearing the ring, of course.

I love you, he wants to say, but cannot. I love you so much, he wants to say, but does not; he watches her set the flute down on the table and he opens his mouth to say it. He has to tell her—she has to know, all of those things he had said, he didn’t mean them. He loves her. He has to tell her so that she can know.

John reaches for her and opens his mouth. She lets him take her face, lashes fluttering closed; when he tries to say it, when he wills the words out of his lungs, he is choking, choking, choking, the sickening scent of flowers rushing over him and he heaves.

The petals spill from his mouth. They tumble to the ground between them. You’re mine, he wants to say, I love you, but the petals choke him on their way out, billowing out from his lungs and tripping on their way out of him, blowing out in gorgeous baby-soft puffs that leave his throat shredded from the inside out.

His hands find her shoulders. He clutches her, because he can’t breathe—there are too many of them, these flowers, each labored attempt at breath making it worse. He’s choking, and Elliot grabs his face with her hands as he struggles to keep his eyes open.

She shoves her fingers into his mouth, packing the petals against the back of his throat, and he can’t breathe, and she says—

“I told you that you couldn’t have both.”

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John jolted awake, the sound of the alarm on his phone echoing in the tight space of his car. The dream lingered, stuck somewhere in the back of his throat and on his ribs like a heavy meal yet to be digested. It took a few blinks for him to really gather himself, remember where he was, who he was, what it was he had been doing. It felt like he could still taste the petals in his mouth.

Wicked devil, he thought tiredly, the image of Elliot looking down at him—wretched, and unyielding, as he choked to death—burned behind his eyelids. Even in my dreams, you’re ungrateful.

On his way out of Hope County, he’d dropped the Eden’s Gate truck for some poor shmuck’s sedan. It certainly wasn’t the kind of car he was used to driving in, and not for long periods of time, but he couldn’t risk a cop tagging his plates and finding out that the car was owned by him.

Not that he thought news of what had happened in Hope County had reached anyone yet. The government had their hands full as it was, he was sure—if the news on the radio had anything to say about it, anyway—so he imagined that the extraction of a few “criminals” out of Hope County, Montana had hit the backburner.

Passing a hand over his face tiredly, John tossed the book he’d fallen asleep reading onto the passenger seat and shut the alarm off on his phone. The book joined a collection of others, the titles including but not limited to Unconditional Parenting, The Whole-Brain Child, and other such riveting pieces, set to guide him along the path of parenthood.

He had been in Weyfield for three days; finding Elliot’s ancestral home hadn’t been hard, considering there were only a handful of houses that said rich by their exterior, and fewer less of those that looked to have been constructed so many years ago. In fact, the house that he had narrowed down looked the epitome of a wealthy Southerner’s ancient household; big front columns binding the two-story structure together, a sweeping front porch, and what he could only assume was a painstakingly-maintained garden when it wasn’t covered in a healthy foot of snow.

But more than that—more than the house, and the snow, and the stupid, shitty car he’d been living in for the last week—was Elliot.

His sleep schedule was fucked up because her sleep schedule was fucked up. He’d only caught glimpses of her through the windows, on occasion, and as much as he wanted to go charging into that house and demand she come back to Hope County with him, John knew he had to go about this very carefully. Elliot had willfully left him to be arrested, and she had willfully lied to him, and she had willfully and spitefully informed him of her pregnancy, and that meant that there were too many factors for him to think he could just breeze in and out. He was going to have to be diligent about everything—and that meant learning as much as he could before she figured out he was there.

It made him feel psychotic. It made him feel like a madman, but he supposed that was to be expected. That’s amore.

He had figured out precisely three things since his arrival in Weyfield: Elliot was staying with a woman he could only presume to be her mother, she had yet to make any friends, and she wasn’t sleeping. Every single night—or morning—she was up, moving around on the second floor and sometimes the first. It was nearly Christmas, now, which meant that she had to be at least nearly five weeks. What was she doing, up and about all hours of the night?

Now, watching Elliot haul herself into the jeep, bundled up and puffing hot air onto her hands, he thought, where are you going without the beast, huh? Haven’t seen you spend a second away from him.

John watched the car pull carefully out of the driveway and then head down the road. He’d been parked beneath the cover of a snowy row of cedars, the air inside as cold as outside by the time he’d woken out of his tenuous sleep. Now, as the sight of the dark Jeep disappeared down the residential lane and turned onto the street that would take her out to the country, he turned the key in the ignition.

The car came to life with a shuddering groan. It took a few tries to dig himself out of the fresh snowfall, tires skidding and the orange light reminding him—time and time again—that the tires were having a hard time. Thanks, you piece of shit, he thought tiredly, finally pulling out of the little ditch and setting off down the road. He let a few cars go ahead of him before he turned down the same street Elliot had, driving until the houses became fewer and fewer and it was more pastureland; three cars ahead, he saw Elliot pull down a long drive that wound for an eternity until a...barn?

A fucking stable?

“What the fuck,” he said under his breath, sighing. He should have known—of course she’d find some reason to spend her afternoon around stinking animals. Was that safe for her to be doing? Being around horses?

He pulled a slow u-turn and found a turn out at the top of the hill—close enough to see when she was leaving, but not close enough that he could be seen if she was pulling out. As soon as he shut the car off, the engine ticking as it cooled, John settled back against the seat and let out a long, suffering breath.

Well. He supposed that she should have been grateful she wasn’t leading a particularly exciting life, but he wouldn’t have minded something a little more exciting than this. Something more than staying holed up in her mother’s home—something which he was sure she did not enjoy, if the way she had spoken of her mother before had been any indication—or the occasional walk down the lane with the hound.

It didn’t matter, in the end. Once he felt confident he knew what was going on, once John had figured out what exactly he was up against when it came to fetching Elliot from this Stepford nightmare of a back-water-nobody-town, he’d get a couple of extra resources gathered and snag Elliot hook, line, and sinker.

But first, he would just have to wait.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was pretty easy to find a place that wanted someone to come and brush their horses for free. Elliot had called around to a few places at the behest of her doctor, who had been displeased when she explained no, she did not want to speak to a therapist, but yes, she would take the suggestion of seeking out other avenues of emotional healing.

I’m going to be frank with you, Miss Honeysett, the doctor had said, her voice stern, you can’t keep going the way you are. Stress is bad for babies, let alone post-traumatic stress.

Elliot had fervently nodded her head and explained that yes, she understood, and yes, she would make sure to find a place to relax and destress. And that was how she ended up here the first few times, and now standing in a stall, bringing a brush slowly over the shiny gold coat of a palomino that stood by idly while she fumbled herself through the motions. She had spent a lot of time around horses before, back when she was a kid—back when her grandfather still had his own little mini stable. After he’d died, the horses had of course been sold, even though Elliot had begged her mother to let her keep just one of them.

“They’re racehorses, Elliot, not show ponies,” her mother had snipped, all those years ago. “What are you going to do with a racehorse?”

Run, she’d thought then. Run and run and run, as far as he’ll take me, and we’ll camp out under the stars and then we’ll run some more until no one can find me ever again.

That had been a dream, of course. Now she only had her two legs to carry her wherever she wanted to go, and they had served her pretty well.

“Been around horses before?” someone asked lightly from the stall door. “Before the last couple of times you’ve been here, I mean.”

Elliot’s gaze flickered, snapped out of her thoughts—out of that girl she had been so many years ago—and landed on the same young woman that had gone through all of her paperwork and given her the run-down. Her name was...Sarah? No, it was something else. Something with an S. She was pretty; dark honey-blonde hair swept up into a ponytail, her face pretty enough to be woman and round enough to make that woman look angelic.

“A long time ago,” Elliot admitted sheepishly, her fingers braided into the palomino’s mane as she worked the kinks out of it. “When I was little.”

“Ah,” the woman said, smiling. “It’s sort of like riding a bicycle. How come you aren’t riding?”

“My doctor said not to.” She paused, because that sounded suspicious, and then said, “And anyway, I’d be making a fool out of myself.”

“Everyone makes a fool out of themselves the first time around, even after a long time. But of course, we want you safe,” the blonde replied somberly, but a smile still ticked the corners of her mouth. When she shifted, Elliot could see that her name tag said Sylvia W. “Hey, you’re Honeysett’s kid, aren’t you?”

Ellliot stifled a groan. She had made it through precisely two interactions without someone bringing up her mother in the entire time that she’d been back in Weyfield, and she had been hoping to make this a third. Glancing over at Sylvia’s curious expression, Elliot managed out as politely as she could, “Yes, that’s me.”

“Your mama called,” Sylvia explained amusedly. “Wanted to make sure you got here without problems.”

I’m twenty-six. “Ugh.”

“It’s cute, but she’s...” Sylvia’s gaze flickered while she tried to come up with a word. And then: “Strong.”

A quick, sharp laugh billowed out of her, unexpected, because the idea of someone calling her mother strong was absurd—not because she wasn’t, but because so many other words came to mind before the word ‘strong’ did. Elliot stifled the second laugh that tried to bubble up out of her, and Sylvia grinned.

“Take it that’s not the first impression people get of your mama?”

“No, Sylvia, it certainly is not.”

“Via is fine,” the blonde corrected, not unkindly. After a second, of quiet introspection, she continued, “If you ever wanna get out of your house, my brother and I go to that bar in town—you know, the uh.... Wild Rose? They do trivia night every Thursday. Winner gets fifty bucks.”

“Wow,” Elliot said without thinking, “a whole fifty dollars? To split between the three of us, huh?”

Via flashed a grin. “I knew you had a sense of humor.”

The words caught something funny in her chest, hooking into her all of a sudden. Reminding her that once, she had been funny—once, she’d had friends. Once, she’d had this kind of rapport with—

Shut the fuck up, she thought to herself, viciously, if you wallow every time you think about that fuckface you’re never going to get anywhere.

“So?” Via prompted. “What do you think? Want to be our third?”

“I’m—that’s really nice of you,” Elliot managed out. “I think this week I’ll have to pass. If you think my mama’s strong over the phone, just imagine her in person and five drinks in.”

The blonde grimaced. “Fair enough. But, invite’s always extended, alright?”

“Thanks, Sy—Via.” Elliot corrected herself, earning a quick, playful wink from Sylvia before she disappeared down the hall to resume her duties. She finished brushing the old brute; on occasion he’d twist his head back to bump the dark velvet of his nose against her side, reminding her that he was there and appreciated her.

She finished up the last of the brushing and then dumped her things in the bucket before she carried it out. The last few times she had been here had passed in much the same way—and now that she thought about it, hadn’t Via offered the trivia night thing to her before? Or was she just imagining things?

“Need sleep,” she murmured to no one in particular, depositing her bucket and brushing her hands against her jeans before sliding her coat on. When she had signed herself out on the sheet and stepped out into the late afternoon, the sun had already gone down; it left the world terribly blue, the sky blue and the snow blue-tinted, like someone had slapped a dim neon light over the sun.

Elliot puffed a hot breath of air out, fishing around for her keys and unlocking the car. As her gaze swept absently over the landscape, she spotted a car parked at a pull-out just up the hill. From where she was, it was hard to see—perhaps nearly impossible—and she wouldn’t have noticed if—

If she wasn’t so concerned about seeing a face that was too familiar. Burke, even, would be an unwelcome addition to her life in Weyfield. She tried to stuff down her paranoia; someone was surely just parked while they were sending a text, or making a phone call, or...

Or, they’re watching you, something inside of her said. She ducked into the driver’s side of the car, cranking the heater, but no amount of hot air washed the voice away. Maybe they’re watching you and waiting to arrest you. Or, maybe it’s—

But it couldn’t be. Because the Seeds were in Federal custody, and that meant they weren’t her problem anymore.

Elliot pulled out of the yard, and then carefully onto the highway, checking her mirror every now and then as she drove the short distance home. Just to be sure. Just to be safe. Someone else pulled out of the stable yard, behind her, and then cresting over the hill came a car that might have been the same one that was parked, and maybe wasn’t, because she hadn’t been able to see the make and model, but if it was, then she would have to make some extra turns on her way home, and...

“No,” she said, firmly. “It’s no one. It’s nothing. Just traffic. Other people live here too, you idiot.”

The remainder of the drive was spent forcing herself to keep her eyes on the road and only checking her mirrors when polite driving protocol called for it. After all of that fussing she’d done, she was the only one pulling down the road to her house, and even when she waited in the driveway for a few minutes, nobody followed. No headlights. No strange, dark cars. No monsters to haunt the corners of her vision.

“You’re late,” her mother called from the kitchen when she stepped inside, shaking the snow out of her hair and shrugging out of her coat.

“Traffic,” Elliot lied without thinking. God, had she always been such a wretched liar? Surely not, right? “Smells good, mama.”

“I should hope so. I slaved over it.”

Elliotshot her mother a dry look, taking a bowl out of the cupboard and beginning to scoop the stew Scarlet had made into it. Boomer waited patiently in the doorway of the kitchen—no dogs allowed rule vehemently obeyed—and when Elliot picked two pieces of bread out of the basket on the counter, still warm, her mother said, “How were the horses?”

She paused in the doorway. The stairs to the second floor, and the subsequent peace and quiet, were just there. “Good,” she replied after a moment, inching toward the doorway. “Polite. I—made a friend.”

Scarlet looked up from the book she’d been reading, eyes narrowing. “A horse friend?”

“No, a—a person!”

“Mm.” Scarlet looked back at her book. “Just be careful who you associate with, Elli, you never know who has a reputation here.”

“But you do.” Elliot’s foot hit the first bottom stair. “I’m relying on you to watch my back. Thank you for dinner.”

Before her mother could ask her where she thought she was going—“Taking food up to your room, Elliot? What are you, nine?”—she had fled up them, Boomer trailing after her until she had the bedroom door safely closed and locked with a breath of relief sweeping out of her. Every interaction was like that; wondering if she was going to make a misstep, drag herself into an argument that she didn’t want to have and which she would only be able to escape if she acquiesced and admitted that her mother was right.

Splitting one of the pieces of bread in half, she tossed it to Boomer and kicked her shoes off. He chomped happily, tail brushing against the floor. Elliot ate her dinner with the dim, low volume of the TV playing in the background, until half of her soup was gone and she had curled up under the blankets. It wasn’t until the Heeler burrowed into the blankets next to her, pressed against her side, that she finally felt the dredges of exhaustion begin to pull at her.

The sleeping pills her mother had given to her sat on her bedside table, still untouched. I don’t need them, she thought, shutting the tv off and the lights with it. I don’t need them to sleep.

I’m just fine.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Night fell heavy, quiet and cold. By the time the late hours had passed and early morning was beginning to roll around—the kind of early where the world still slept—Elliot found herself standing in the hallway.

She blinked tiredly. She was still in her jeans; she’d neglected to change. Her hands were on the banister, and below her the living room stretched, long and only dimly lit, effused by the glow of the night lights peppered throughout the house. How did she get here? Had she slept walk? What had woken her?

Slowly, and then all at once, the sound of static drifting from the cracked door of her bedroom registered in her brain. The television was on; that must have been what had woken her. Elliot stood for a minute longer, trying to collect herself, trying to see if she was still dreaming, and then pushed the door to her bedroom open.

Boomer was snoozing quietly on the bed still. The telvision’s channel flickered static once, twice, and when Elliot reached for the remote, the static flipped again and the screen went black.

Not powered-off black. Just—a black screen, still backlit, empty.

White text blinked onto the screen.

HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS?

Elliot felt her stomach flip. The text blinked out, and then blinked back on, and then stayed. Her heart thudded aggressively against her rib cage, demanding—out out out, it said, desperate for a reprieve from this sudden chill spilling down her spine. She reached blindly, no longer sure where the remote was, when the text blinked again.

HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS?

No, she thought furiously, even though she knew it wasn’t true and that it didn’t matter. Whatever kind of strange late-night programming this was—and that’s what it had to be—wasn’t going to give her a response and certainly wasn’t waiting for one. She would just need to—

HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS?

Elliot’s fingers gripped the remote and she pressed her finger feverishly, missing the power button once, twice, and then a third time before she finally hit it and the television clicked off. Her hands were shaking; her whole body was shaking, and she quickly crawled back under the covers until Boomer was whuffling, tired and inquisitive, against her face. Her fingers knotted in his fur and she closed her eyes tight.

Even when they were closed, she saw the words, burned behind her eyelids. The inner strength to stay like that only lasted for another few minutes before she grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills and took one, swallowing it down dry and then dropping the container back on to her nightstand.

She would sleep. She would sleep, and forget about the strange commercial, and she would get her fucking life together.

In the morning. After sleep.

No strange dreams, she thought, not for me.

Not anymore.

[backtothestart02]

Just Best Friends - 9/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: “It’s been 84 years...” lolz. I hope you enjoy this! I don’t know when the next chap will come, but as soon as I can write it, I will!

...

Chapter 9 -

A week passed. During that week, Iris made herself completely unreachable – not just to Barry but to Eddie as well. She worked through lunch, so Barry couldn’t take her out, and she worked late hours, so that by the time she returned to hers and Eddie’s apartment, she was so exhausted, she could only heat up some leftovers and collapse onto their bed when she was finished with them.

That also meant no sex, no cuddling, and hardly any talking that wasn’t an incredibly brief apology before passing out or running out the door. And for Barry, it was just one excuse after another, though they always sounded very similar.

Sorry, I have so much work to do. Or… Maybe another time? I just got a new story, and I have a hot lead on it.

He always understood in words, but she could see the disappointment on his face every time. As well as her failure to respond to the fresh bouquet of flowers he set on her desk daily.

They weren’t just excuses though. They were legitimate…most of the time. Were they unnecessary? Probably. She didn’t have to go out of her way to beg her boss for more stories, or to work so far ahead of schedule that she felt she was on the verge of a burn out or collapse.

But she didn’t know how to act now that Eddie was back. She knew she needed to break up with him. She knew that. But she didn’t want to break his heart, and she wasn’t 100% sure Barry would just agree to date her after the hell she’d put him through emotionally. So avoiding both of them seemed to be the only way out.

She’d also come to the conclusion that while irritating, her dad going out of his way to forbid Barry to tell her he was the Flash had come from a place of love, and that she couldn’t stay mad at him any more than she could with Barry. The only problem was she found having that conversation with him was almost impossible because either Eddie or Barry or both seemed to be in his vicinity at all times.

Little did she know though that there was one other person who was taking a keen interest in the situation developing over the past week, and it was the one person she’d been paranoid about for a while before Eddie came back, and who she’d entirely forgotten about as the weight of the three men in her life came barreling down on her.

And that person had apparently had enough of what she was doing and had decided to seek her out for a confrontation of sorts shortly after Barry left during his lunch break for the fifth time that week.

With a slow yet determined saunter, Linda approached Iris’ desk just as soon as Mason disappeared for his daily lunch walk.

“Iris.”

The familiar voice made her freeze. She recovered quickly, but she had a feeling Linda had caught her red-handed and completely unprepared for where this particular conversation would lead. After all, the last time they’d “talked”, Linda had completely brushed her off, and the time before that Linda had told her to her face that she knew Iris had feelings for Barry, even when she’d still been in denial of that fact herself.

“Linda.” She shuffled her papers around on her desk to somehow fill the awkwardness of the moment. “What, uh…what can I do for you?”

Linda folded her arms and sat on the corner of Iris’ desk.

“Was that Barry that just left?”

“Hmm?” She decided to play dumb. “Oh, yeah, it was. He uh, wanted to go to lunch. I told him I had work to do, which I did – do. So, if you don’t mind?”

Linda’s jaw actually dropped.

“Dismissing me so quickly? If I recall correctly, the last time we talked, you were only too eager to get my attention.”

Iris bit her tongue to keep from responding with something she’d regret.

“Let me guess. You’re giving me a taste of my own medicine?” Linda raised her eyebrows.

Iris cleared her throat.

“Not at all. I just…I have work to do. A lot of it.”

“You’ve had a lot of work to do for the past five days, haven’t you?”

Iris’ eyes squinted.

“Have you been…spying on me?”

“Please.” Iris waited. “I’ve been talking to Barry. He’s needed someone to vent to, you know, since before Eddie came back you were practically climbing on top of him every day at lunch and after work and sometimes before work, according to him.”

“That’s not how it was,” Iris said under her breath.

“No? You better clear that up with your supposed best friend then, because that’s how he saw it. He’s crushed that you’re avoiding him again.” She leaned forward. “Which you are doing, right? Neither of us is buying that you suddenly have so much work to do.”

“I do!” Iris snapped. “I…I asked for it.”

Linda’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an ‘o’.

“And why would you do that?”

She started shuffling her papers again.

“That’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you made out with my boyfriend after sticking your finger in his mouth and sitting on his lap on our date.”

Iris sighed testily.

“I thought you two broke up.”

“We did.”

“Do you wish you hadn’t? I know it wasn’t your idea.”

“I’m not stupid, Iris. I’m not going to blindly fight for a relationship with someone who clearly wants to be with someone else.”

Iris bit her lip, avoiding eye contact.

“He does?” she asked quietly.

“He’s in love with you!” She lowered her voice when she got a few looks. “He’d take you in a heartbeat,” she paused. “If that’s what you want.”

Iris swallowed.

“But you don’t know what you want, do you?”

“Yes, I…I do.”

“Then what do you want? Please, tell me at least.”

“Why?” She met her eyes again and glared. “So you can run off and tell Barry? Or Eddie?”

Linda rolled her eyes.

“I have no reason to tell your boyfriend anything. Barry, however, I do still care about. And we’re friends now. He deserves to know the truth, even if it isn’t from you. He’s going crazy with all your…mixed signals.”

Iris nibbled on her lip again, guilt weighing her down.

“Iris, hey, there’s something I wanted to…” Mason approached, then came to an abrupt halt, sensing the tension between the two women immediately. “Am I interrupting something?” He looked between the two.

“Not at all.” Linda smiled serenely before looking down at Iris one last time. “You know where to find me, Iris.”

Iris gulped, not looking at her but nodded just before Linda retreated – finally – to her desk across the room.

“What was that about?”

Iris closed her eyes and shook her head before swiveling in her chair toward him.

“Nothing. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

His eyes were full of suspicion, but it was clear his need to discuss something with her was greater.

“I want to show you something.” He took the seat Linda had vacated, then pulled out a folder, revealing to her a familiar face she’d nearly forgotten. “Simon Stagg. Remember him?”

…

Well, there was no longer any way of avoiding it. She had to seek out Barry. Mason’s suspicions about Harrison Wells stirred her insides too deeply, and honestly, made her worried about her best friend, since she knew how much he adored who had become to be his mentor. There was Caitlin and Cisco to consider too, who had known Dr. Wells even longer, but right now all she cared about was Barry.

So, she marched over to CCPD shortly after her conversation with Mason, using the excuse of pursuing a story – which, more or less, she was – to explain her absence at her work site and sought out Barry as soon as she stepped out of the elevator.

Unfortunately, her dad’s eyes locked with hers first. She swallowed, remembering how things were between them. She considered then abandoning a much-needed talk with Barry to finally hash things out with her dad. That course of action was dashed however, when within seconds he had looked away from her and gestured instead in her direction to whoever was standing across from him.

She should’ve known then who it would be, but it didn’t occur to her until he was walking toward her, a grin on his face, no doubt thinking she was there to see him.

“Iris, hey.” He kissed her before she could even think to turn her cheek to him. “Did you have a late lunch today? I have some time now. We cou-”

“Oh, actually, I’m here to see, Barry. Is he upstairs?”

“Huh?”

“In his lab?”

Eddie blinked.

“Um, yeah, as far as I know. There are no active crime scenes where he’d be at otherwise.”

“Great. Thanks. I’ll see you tonight.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and headed towards the staircase before he could so much as pull her in for an explanation or something more.

Feeling confused and honestly a little hurt, Eddie returned to his desk, Joe sitting now at his, ignoring Eddie’s state as best as he could.

“Should I be worried?” he finally asked.

Joe pretended not to have heard him.

“Joe.”

“Hmm?” he asked, not looking up from the files he was pretending to look over in front of him.

“Should I be worried?”

“About what?”

“About Iris,” he said, as if it should be obvious.

Despite how he felt about the man dating his daughter, Joe looked up to address him. He was also his partner, after all.

“Why are you worried about her?”

Eddie let out a cough of relief, eager to unload his troubles onto somebody – anybody – who would listen.

“She’s made herself busy ever since I got back.”

“She has a job. So do you.”

“More so than usual though,” he pushed on. “She leaves earlier than she used to, and she comes home really late. When she does, she eats some leftovers and crawls into bed without so much as a ‘hey, how was your day’ or ‘I love you, too, Eddie’.” He frowned. “It worries me.”

Now Joe frowned.

“She’s been avoiding Barry too.”

Eddie’s frown deepened.

“When had Barry been trying to meet up with her?”

“On her lunch breaks,” he blurted without thinking, then met his eyes, trying to play it off. “She always says she’s too busy working on a story.”

Eddie leaned back in his seat.

“I haven’t tried to meet up with her for lunch at all this week. I guess I’m so used to her coming here, and if she didn’t, that she had a good reason. I guess she did.”

“Well, there you go.”

Joe started to stand, eager to escape the awkwardness of the conversation.

“But I mean, we haven’t had sex all week.”

Joe finished straightening, then shot him a glare. Eddie’s face fell.

“You didn’t want to hear that.”

“Not particularly, no,” Joe said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He turned and headed for the bathroom. Any place was better than this.

…

About a step and a half before the entryway to Barry’s lap, Iris stalled, nibbling on her bottom lip. Barry had been as pleasant during her intended lunch break as he’d been all week, but she still wondered how accepting he’d be of her, especially when he found out this was a working meeting. She definitely needed to apologize first. How and when was the question, though. It was still beyond her how he hadn’t lashed out at her yet. She’d been treating him so unfairly, and yet time and time again, he kept crawling back to her, as if he was a glutton for punishment.

Well, no more of that. She couldn’t guarantee when she would break up with Eddie, but maybe Linda was right and she could at least explain her behavior this week and tell him she planned to break up with Eddie. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe…eventually.

“Is someone there?” Barry called out, and Iris realized she’d started tapping her shoe against the floor in time with the rapid rhythm of her mind.

She stopped abruptly, then cleared her throat and peeked her head into the doorway.

“Hey.”

She gave an awkward hand wave.

“Iris?”

His brows furrowed, but he started to smile. Lord, help her, it made her heart do a flip.

“What are you doing out there?” He got up out of his seat and headed towards her. “And why didn’t you just come in?”

“S-sorry,” she stuttered, shocked by it as much as he was, then forced herself to walk through the door.

He came to a stop as soon as she was inside and waited for her explanation.

“I guess I didn’t know if you’d want to see me.”

He gawked.

“Iris, I’ve been trying to see you all week.”

“No, I know. Of course. Right. But uh…I thought my rejecting you today might’ve been your breaking point, and that you wouldn’t want to see me now. Without an apology. Which I am totally willing to make, by the way.” Her chuckle was strained, and she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“What’s there to apologize for?” he asked. “You had work to do. That isn’t your fault. I’m sure you’ve been working hard to catch up.”

“Actually…” She took another step toward him. “I haven’t.”

His brows furrowed, and he sat back down.

“I don’t follow.”

She sighed and sat on the corner of his desk, the only spot where there wasn’t files or a conglomeration of office supplies.

“I asked for extra work.” She swallowed. “On Monday.”

He tilted his head, confused.

“I was trying to be busy. On purpose.” She licked her lips. “So I’d be too busy if you came to see me.”

He froze, his heart thudding away inside his chest. He didn’t know how to take that bit of information, and honestly, he was crushed.

“I don’t understand…you didn’t want to see me?”

The hurt in his voice was palpable. Iris hated that she was doing this to him again. He shouldn’t even want to be her friend after this, no matter how apologetic she was.

“Not just you,” she said, hoping that would soften the blow. “Eddie too. And my dad.”

He was mystified by that. He understood Joe, what with the Flash business and all that, but Eddie?

“What have you got against Eddie?”

“Nothing!” she burst, then got up and started to pace. “I just…” She licked her lips, unable to stop walking and unable to form words either, it seemed. She couldn’t stop though. Not to leave, not to make eye contact. Her hard was pounding, and her breath was coming in short bursts. She felt everything closing in around her and wondered if she was having a panic attack.

Suddenly, she stopped and forced herself to look at him.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” he said instantly, standing too. “I want an explanation.”

She swallowed.

“I thought you and I were good last week.”

“We were,” she said. “We are.”

“Yet you purposely didn’t want me near you this week?”

Her knees locked, and she tensed up.

“And Eddie…what in the world did he do except home to you? I would’ve thought you’d be happy about that.”

Tears welled in her eyes. Her fingers were sweaty and tingled. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

“Iris.”

Answer.

“I don’t love him anymore!”

She covered her mouth at the same moment his eyes bulged, and he nearly stumbled backward.

“What?” he finally managed.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she started to pace again.

“I realized it last week. Or rather, I’ve been slowly realizing it for the past several weeks. I’ve just been…in denial.”

Barry’s pulse started racing. He approached her moving form with one determined step after another.

“What have you been in denial about, Iris?”

She stopped.

“What I just said!” She licked her lips again. “I don’t love him. I’m not in love with him anymore. But I don’t…I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t want to break his heart. Especially after I went out of my way to make him feel bad about thinking there was anything between us, when really-”

“Wait, wait, wait, us? As in, you and I, us?”

She looked up at him reluctantly and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t know I told you how I felt, does he? At Christmas?”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “No, I didn’t tell him that. He’d probably have punched you by now if I had.”

Barry paled, then squeaked, “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” she confirmed.

“W-Why?” He wrapped his arm around the back of his head.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He gave her a blank look. “You were trying to get his girlfriend to break up with him. To be with you.”

Barry thought about it for a few seconds, then realized that yeah, he kind of had been. He shook his head after he got past that thought.

“I still don’t understand though. If you didn’t tell him about that…” He locked eyes with her. “Did you tell him you…find me attractive?”

“Oh, God, no.” She pressed her face into her hands. “That would’ve been even worse.”

“Worse than a love confession? How?”

“Because it’s coming from me! And I…”

“What?”

She power-walked to right in front of him and prepared herself for the blow of all blows.

“I don’t just find you attractive, Barry. I have…I have feelings for you.”

I’m in love with you – But she couldn’t admit to that yet. Not while she was still dating Eddie.

He swallowed, fighting with the smile that wanted to take over his face.

“What kind of feelings?”

“Barry.” Her voice softened. “You know what kind.”

“Tell me,” he said. “Just so I know for sure.”

He was holding his breath, and she couldn’t blame him. Honestly, she was on the brink of holding hers too.

“You make my heart race, Barry.”

“Iris.”

He started to lean in, and it took all of her willpower to step back out of reach.

“No, we can’t. I can’t. It’s bad enough I cheated once. This can’t go any farther until it’s over.” She met his eyes. “Until Eddie and I are over.”

Barry swallowed.

“And when will that be?”

Her shoulders slumped, and her bottom lip quivered.

“I don’t know.”

His shoulders caved in as well. He forced himself not to get mad, but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. So, the love of his life finally felt the same way, but she wouldn’t let herself act on it? And she wouldn’t do the one thing that would allow them to be together.

“Is that the only thing you came to tell me?” he asked, unable to keep some chill out of his words.

Iris supposed she couldn’t blame him.

“No…” she admitted, deciding not to mention how she hadn’t meant to tell him as much as she had.

“What else?”

She pursed her lips, hating that she had to turn this conversation into a business one before she could give him the answer that he wanted.

“What else, Iris?” he asked, sounding exhausted when she didn’t answer for too long.

“It’s about, Dr. Wells,” she finally said.

That caught him off guard.

“Dr. Wells? What does he have to do with anything?”

“I hope nothing, but just in case…can we go somewhere else? To talk?”

He wanted to ask her what was wrong with his lab, but he supposed the fresh air would do them both good. Give them a clear head and put everything she’d already said to rest for the time being. After all, she sounded awfully serious about whatever else she wanted to talk about.

“Sure,” he said. “Just let me grab my jacket.”

“Barry,” she called after him as he walked by her.

He stopped when he reached his garment.

“I’m sorry about…everything.”

“Don’t worry about it, Iris,” he said, as he slid his arms through the sleeves. “It’s fine.”

…

Hours later, and on a whim, Eddie found himself at a jewelry store – diamonds, to be more specific. In the back of his mind, he knew his intentions probably weren’t smart. Especially not right now, not with the way things were between him and Iris, especially this week. But there was another part of him that thought this might be just the thing to jolt their relationship back into what it had once been and the potential of what it could be, the future he’d seen from almost the minute he started dating her.

He pointed out a ring nestled in velvet that caught his eye in the display case below him. An employee walked up, inspired by his curiosity and tried to catch his attention.

“Sir?”

“Can I see that one, please?”

The man smiled.

“Of course.”

He reached for the key and unlocked the case. Just as he was pulling the velvet block out with the specified ring upon it, Eddie’s phone started to vibrate.

“Oh, excuse me.”

He turned partially away and glanced at the screen on his phone. He answered immediately, a smile on his face.

“Hey, Iris, what’s up?”

“I’m home,” she said, and he could hear the frown in her voice.

“So early?”

“Yeah, I felt bad for coming home so late every night this week…I thought we could have dinner together.”

“That sounds great.”

“Yeah?” She sounded relieved.

“Definitely. I’m uh…just running a last-minute errand. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. See you then.”

“See you.”

He turned back to the jeweler as he slid the phone back in his pocket, and his eyes widened with enthusiasm as the ring was presented to him.

“Oh, yeah. This is the one.”

[diplexchimera]

Hey people considering college-

I have some tips for you. Now, take into consideration that I am technically a college drop-out (didn't have enough money for a second semester).

- my college required Freshman to be in a campus dorm. We got to select whether we preferred someone quiet, someone loud, or someone in between. In my experience, someone loud = an extrovert who will have many people visit them, someone quiet = a person who prefers to keep their room more private, and someone in between = a person who wants their roommate to be okay with a noisy room & people over, but also wants to be able to say they need quiet time (or they aren't sure what they want, but want neither a silent room or a busy room).

- if you have to eat from the cafeteria, that's okay. They tend to have a wider selection anyway but! I would suggest memorizing the breakfast/lunch/dinner availability hours. Some schools are very strict, and will lock the doors which = a skipped meal for you.

-I would also suggest getting the app 'MyPlate Calorie Tracker'. College meals will most likely be different than what you've eaten at home and school. The MyPlate app is pretty simple, and can help you make sure you're getting the right amount of food into yourself, as opposed to too much or too little. If I remember correctly, it also keeps track of how much protein and stuff your food is supplying you.

- sugars, fats, calories, and carbs are not bad for you. Your body requires them. Your brain literally will not function if you cut out any one of those items. Remember, you don't need to avoid being fat, you need work today being healthy. Your body will sort itself out (over time dude, give it time) if you supply it with the necessary nutrients and such.

- dude, vitamins. They can be expensive, but if you have insurance, ask your doctor how much of every vitamin you should be having. They can tell you, give you a list, and they can ask your insurance if vitamins are covered. If you can't get to a doctor, try to do research. Here is one from Harvard that I think is good, but you should always cross check things. Getting all the vitamins and minerals you need is exceedingly important. They help you go to sleep, stay asleep, and wake up, help your brain and body to function and adjust, help keep you feeling healthy and happy. If you feel tired and depressed, it can be really difficult to accomplish tasks and enjoy/ appreciate being alive.

- I would not suggest starting your year by completing assignments before the start date of said assignments. For one, doing assignments as they come helps you get a feel for a natural schedule. Another reason is because it helps to be in the moment, instead of too far ahead to be able to keep track of what's going on and when. Wait until you have a hang of how and where to research, and a firm idea of how much you can hold onto mentally, so you don't fail tests. You'll also likely feel guilty later on when you begin to struggle to stay ahead as assignments get longer and more difficult.

- yo if you can get a used textbook that comes as a three ring binder instead of a hard or soft back, do it. It's cheaper, and so much easier to handle and copy. Heck, you can even take the pages out of the section you're using and put them in a folder -- boom, no more 40lb back pack. Also makes more room in any bag you use for the essentials, which I'll list next.

- here are some backpack essentials:

• earbuds, Bluetooth if possible. It's okay to have more than one type of listening device. "I prefer headphones!" You say. You can't hide over-the-ear headphones if you end up in a classroom which doesn't allow something like that. Sometimes you're just having a sucky day, sometimes you need extra stimulation to concentrate, sometimes you want to spend your time listening to a podcast that explains the current subject better than your teacher does. Sometimes you want to watch a movie casually. Earbuds also take up MUCH less space.

• an extra charging cable for every portable device you use. Roll them up, and secure each one individually with cable ties or bread bag twist ties. I say extra, as in, keep your original cords in your dorm room and Don't Take Them out. Get a secondary cable and charger for each device, and let them live in your backpack.

• 3 or 4 different colors of pen. Multiple colors, for whatever reason you want-- easily scanned notes, for different subjects, etc. These can serve a variety of purposes, and you never know when you need them.

• 3 regular pencils, and a good hand sharpener or silent mechanical sharpener. 3 in case the other two get broken lead or happen to suck. Regular pencils can be finicky.

• 2 mechanical pencils. 2 in case one of them fails, runs out of lead, or the lead breaks up.

• decoy pens and pencils! Get as cheap or expensive as you want. At some point, someone is likely to ask for one, and you don't want someone else using your favorites. You also may not get them back, or they get broken. I would suggest a couple of each, as it may happen in more than one class. You don't have to have decoys, but that way, at least you don't have to choose between either feeling guilty for not loaning out the items you like, or being uncomfortable that you did have to loan one. If you loan the decoys out, and don't get any back, and someone asks you for a utensil later that day, you have both a convenient reason you don't have an extra you're willing to share, and you already put the minimum effort towards being prepared.

• Water! You're going to get so dang dehydrated! You're going to have full days, much of the time, from trekking across campus, to class time, to meal times, to study time, to hang out time -- you need to have water with you, as opposed to having to track it down, and possibly have to pay for a bottle of water. Hydration is a main component in bodily functionality and brain processes. I would suggest a minimum of a 30-ish ounce container of any sort. A plastic water bottle you refill, a thermos, a sippy cup, a hydro flask, a camp flask, whatever works for you.

• I would say snacks. If you're eating meals throughout the day, I guess they aren't "technically" essential, but can confidently say, they are useful. Snacks can be an energy boost, a brain function boost, a hunger soother, a friend-maker, or just plain stimulation. Cut up some apple slices, maybe grab some peanut butter, or a portion of nuts, or a tangerine, crackers, pretzels, chips, the choice is yours. It helps if you can get ahold of some of those cheap reusable silicone ziplock baggies. You can wash them to be used again, and you don't have to deal with carrying plastic trash around with you.

• a pair of socks. I know that sounds weird, but it doesn't take up much space, and weird stuff happens. They get wet, or it's hot and your feet get sweaty and yucky, or food get spilled on your feet. Stuff happens.

• b12 tablets. They work with your system in a healthy way, as opposed to caffeine, and does the same trick. Just follow the directions on the bottle, and may I suggest, start with half the recommended dose. It affects different people more or less. My husband takes the recommended two, while I only need a half. We both have adhd, and are closely similar in body weight. If you need a wake up boost, don't slam your system with caffeine.

• baby wipes. You can get a small pack, and they can help clean up almost anything. Someone spill sticky tea? Got it. Fell and scraped a knee, and it has dirt all over it? Baby wipes and a little water. Need to blow your nose, and there are no tissues, or just feel like you need to rinse your face off in class? You're covered.

• chapstick is a very small item, but Lordy Lord if those classrooms aren't parched of all moisture in the air. You gone get cracked, chapped lips.

That's kinda it for now on backpack essentials. There is definitely more you could have, so supplement whatever helps you. You could add a hairbrush or comb, a hat and rain jacket for cold weather times, sunscreen during the hot times, hair ties and bobby pins, etc. It's all for you pal.

- keep in touch with your professors. Make yourself known to them. An occasional casual compliment is often helpful, and a good way to connect (you explained stuff really well today/your teaching style is helpful/I appreciated you taking time to answer my questions). They are people after all.

- if you have stuff going on, let your professors know. If your pet is sick at home and you're worried about them, give your professors a heads-up that you may seem less attentive that week, but that it isn't disinterest. If you figure out you have depression, and you're struggling to complete assignments/sleep/wake-up, tell them. Let them know you don't expect special treatment, you just wanted them to know that it isn't due to immaturity or lack of interest.

- always do studying and homework first. If you're able to accomplish these things while with friends, that's great, but if you can tell you're struggling, prioritize schoolwork. You'll have time for fun stuff later, usually later that evening.

- it's okay to drop a class. In fact, if you severely dislike a class, don't understand the coursework, or you realize you've taken on too much at once, it's better for your overall wellness and your grades if you drop it. If you have a professor suggest you drop a class in mean way, don't feel like you have to prove them wrong. This is your experience, and they can stuff it for being a rude brat. You don't need to prove yourself to them, and you cannot control their thoughts or actions.

- try to take classes that happen twice a week, which start later in the day than 8 am, at least for your first semester. There is a lot going on in college. A lot of changes to acclimate to. Take it a little easier at first, to give yourself time to work out what all is where, and how everything works.

Well, that's the end of 'dip's (college) tips' for now.

[shintorikhazumi]

Life at stake

A/N: Sup, my name is Khaz. So I was binging Kakegurui lately (and rewatching one too many times), and then watched the ep where Mary’s bday was revealed just the other day, looked at my laptop calendar, and went, “woah- it’s Mary’s Birthday?!” So I was super excited to make my first Kakegurui fic a Mary bday fic, but then exams hit me like a truck so...

I love Mary. So Happy birthday Mary. My first Kakegurui fic goes to you. (even if it’s late lmao so I’ll make it a multi-chap)

Self indulgent af because... Because.

This. Might suck. Not the best author. Regardless, hope you at least...

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Kirari continued twirling the coin ‘round her finger. It was getting boring in the office lately. She needed something. Some toy to mess around with. The recent days had been rather uneventful for her corporation. Nothing interesting had popped up, and all the business chains under her rule were working rather smoothly.

In short,

It sucked.

High school was definitely better.

Sayaka was by her side, ever faithful in her duties as she filed the last of today’s paperwork. Kirari eyed her expression, watching Sayaka bite her lip, a sign she was contemplating something. The ex-president of Hyakkaou guessed it was about whether or not she should get a head start on tomorrow’s scheduled responsibilities. A good insurance move for the unexpected future. How logical of her. How rational. How very Sayaka.

Ah. But Kirari was her opposite. Always had been. And much unlike her secretary, she adored the unexpected future.

You never know what could happen in so few seconds.

Be it life or death.

It filled her with a pleasurable electricity coursing through her whole body just from the thought of the Destiny stringing her along to its predetermined design. It reminded her of that one match of Fate she had with one Jabami Yumeko all those years ago- okay, maybe like... four years ago, but that was some time in the past, right?

Speaking of Yumeko...

Kirari watched Sayaka berate the girl as she sat on-yes, on, not at- the conference table just across from her now-boss, Kirari. Why she was here, well...

Yumeko was simply too uninterested in college, but unwilling to just settle down to do nothing. Thus, upon graduating from Hyakkaou, she had accepted a modified version of her “life plan” in high school that her relative had offered.

It was better than anything else to her at the time. More interesting than going to college or back home, Yumeko had told Kirari. So the girl was found working for her, managing one of the teal-eyed woman’s underground Casinos. That was it. No other conditions attached. Who was Yumeko to reject such a generous offer that was right in line with her one true love, gambling?

Okay, so maybe Kirari had been the one to scout after her and laid her bet of being Yumeko’s patron for a lifetime of gambling ahead. Yumeko didn’t actually find her offer all that appealing at the beginning, but then a bet had been set in place.  A bet with a risk of whether or not this new business would go under or if it would flourish, regardless of Yumeko’s presence.

One billion dollars. If the casino couldn’t make that much profit in a week without the girl, but could with her, then Kirari would win, and Yumeko was hers forever. If it succeeded, Kirari could not touch her. Yumeko would be gone from her grasp, out of her paradise aquarium.  

Of course Yumeko agreed to it.

She loved a good bet. Especially if it was one as intense as the ones she’d shared with Kirari. Kirari loved good, unpredictable wagers too. You could win it all, or lose it all. That was in gambling’s nature. But well, Kirari never gambled games she’d lose. Not on purpose at least.

And that was how she’d gotten Yumeko aboard in her little aquarium once more.

For what it was worth, Yumeko had been able to offer her the entertainment she desired. However, the more successful their whole group had grown, the less Kirari was able to enjoy messing with her very competent, and now very busy staff.

Staring at Yumeko looking over her work seriously despite being in such a position on her table was becoming dull, Kirari getting used to its oddness.

Why was everyone in this room so dedicated and serious in work?

Couldn’t they offer Kirari some semblance of entertainment right now?

Who else could she bother... ah- Ririka. Her dear twin sister. Who had just walked into the room. Surely she’d care enough to save her own flesh and blood, the spitting image of herself from the claws of death by utter boredom.

“Riri-”

“Not now, Rari. I have things to do.” The girl had her brows knitted in a frown, and Kirari suspected that the meeting she was sent to attend did not go as well as they hoped.

Guess that’s another thing for her to smooth out tomorrow. Something to spice up her bland work life. Somehow. But that was for tomorrow.

For today, however, now what... what else could she...

“Excuse me? I’m Hanatemari from HR. I have some files I’d like to have looked over for the recent proposed project.”

A rather fluffy-looking girl was bid welcome into the vast office, Sayaka approaching her and handling the business, as per usual, leaving Kirari to sulk in nothingness even more.

She decided to occupy her mind with this new arrival, eyeing her from head to toe discreetly. Hmm? There was something about the her... something familiar... Hanatemari, Hanatemari...- Oh.

Kirari internally grinned, memory clearing. Hanatemari Tsuzura-san. Hoho. Since when had she been working for Kirari? This was exciting! This was interesting! This was something unforeseen! Now maybe if Kirari could just get her to-

“Thank you very much. I’ll be taking my leave now.” The girl, before Kirari could even utter a single word and get up from her chair, had already began to clean up, and turned on her heel, walking across the vast room heading for the door.

Ahh. And there went her last resort. Would anyone be willing to just take this terrible monotony of a work routine away?

Her final hope, little Hanatemari was slipping away! Kirari would have stopped her. Kirari could have. But she was leaving now, and would it be odd for Kirari to stop her? But since when had she cared about such a thing? That’s right! She didn’t! And so she would get up right now and chat the poor employee up and try to fish for something, anything of any worth.

Before she could do that however, the girl seemed to have taken a turn to have a word with Ririka. She would have frowned, but then a voice at the back of her mind told her to watch; to observe the girl’s interaction with her currently perplexed sibling, showing her some papers that made her sigh at first, but then oddly enough, suddenly light up in poorly concealed excitement.

Oh?

“Yes. As Igarashi-san has said, I will be in direct supervision of this project. Thank you for coming all this way to show me this-” Ririka attempted to speak with her usual leveled tone of professionalism, but Kirari knew her twin well enough to notice sudden brightness in her voice, and the immediate disappearance of her earlier displeasure.

Now Kirari’s attention was definitely caught. It wouldn’t be fun to remain a spectator then, now would it? Not when fate’s dice had begun to roll once more.

“Hello.” She cut in between them, an unreadable smile on her lips as both ladies showed their surprise in their own ways.

Tsuzura had visibly jumped, almost dropping her folder and clipboard, while Kirari smirked at being able to get a flinch out of Ririka.

“M-m-ma’am! Madame! I... why- I’m...” For someone supposedly in Human Resources, this girl couldn’t hold much of a conversation. Kirari was a little worried about that department now.

Or maybe it was because it was Kirari that she acted this way? The sadistic little demon in her grinned, pleased.

“And what is it that you have right there?”

“O-oh! N-nothing someone as noble as you should trouble yourself with.” The girl squeaked out quickly,  papers held tighter to her chest.

“But of course, I should trouble myself with this. This is my company, and those seem to be some documents related to a new project, I heard? Do tell me what it’s all about, Miss...” Kirari trailed off, waiting for the girl to introduce herself.

“Hanatemari. I am Hanatemari Tsuzura.”

But of course, Kirari already knew that.

“Lovely name. And what do you have right there, Hanatemari-san?”

“Oh! Um...” Kirari smiled as the papers slowly inched their way towards her itching hands. What could they possibly contain-

“Just the profiles of incoming interns and trial members.” Ririka quickly snatched the thick folder away, mixing it in with her own. “I’m sure Sayaka has approved of them for you, and I do too. You needn’t worry, dear sister. This is part of our jobs.”

Now this was suspicious. Ririka never really hid much from her. The only time she’d do it was when... ara?

This.

This was it. This was what Kirari had been wanting.

With Ririka’s sudden, careless actions, a few sheets of paper had spilled out the bottom of the files and onto the floor, one particular face-up profile causing a grin to spread wide on Kirari’s face.

Blonde hair, shimmering golden eyes, and that signature scowl of headstrong defiance that Kirari absolutely loved to coax out from this particular girl.

Ah, of course. The one who despised her so, and was one of the people who always gave her a thrill. She never disappointed Kirari, and always entertained her. She was confident, capable, faultily prideful and cocky at times, and was a tsundere.

Yes.

The perfect amusement. Ever the perfect toy.

Kirari couldn’t help but voice her desires. Her need to bring back this little fishy into her lovely, deathly aquarium.

“I want Saotome. I want to make her mine.”

---------

If a few papers on the floor were already enough for Sayaka to consider it “a mess”, then all of those applications now dropped and mixed together on the floor surely made her head hurt, Kirari assumed. Maybe she should help clear it up later if she wanted to maybe not sleep on the couch again.

“What did you just...” Ririka began, but failed to continue. Her nails dug into her palm, teeth clenched and brows furrowed.

Kirari raised a brow at this reaction.

She vaguely registered the sound of a pen clicking, before there was the tap of the plastic onto the table surface.

“What a bold declaration.” Yumeko suddenly stood up, walking towards the gathered group, eyes hidden behind bangs. “To say you want Mary-san to be...” A pause as Yumeko got all up in Kirari’s face, eyes that dangerous red glint as she breathed the last word into Kirari’s ear. “Yours.”

Oh, that delicious chill that ran up her spine.

Mary Saotome. She wasn’t even here, and yet her name had so quickly already stirred up quite the fun. As she thought, Kirari truly needed her here.

Even Tsuzura had an odd tint to her gaze, a frown marring her soft features.

Hmm.

Kirari was certain she knew why they responded the way they did. It was all too obvious, and all the more exciting. Just... weren’t these girls misunderstanding something?

Well, it didn’t matter. If misunderstanding meant an end to her daily gray, then Kirari would utilize it to its fullest extent.

And what better way to do that than...

“It seems as though you disagree with me. Don’t tell me... you all want Saotome Mary to yourselves?”

Only Yumeko vocally confirmed in her usual light-hearted, ‘but of course!’, with that deceiving cheery smile; but Kirari knew the other two shared the sentiment.

“Well then. How about...

We gamble for her.”

Yes, Kirari savored those burning gazes, the exhilaration coursing within her. They all looked way too up for it. It was perfect!

Ah, gambling your life away in high risk games was always a pleasure.

But well, this time it wasn’t Kirari’s own life. She should probably apologize to the girl once she sees her, for betting “ownership” over her.

Meh. She’d cross that bridge when Mary got here.

For now,

Mary Saotome’s life...

is at stake.

//-//-//-//-//

“A-aaa...ACHOO-! Ugh...whad da heck...” Mary reached into her pocket for her handkerchief, clicking her tongue when she couldn’t feel it there. She began to grumble, hands rummaging her bag for possibly a pack of tissues... that were non -existent as well.

Just as she was about to curse the heavens, a clean cloth was held out to her. She took it grateful to the person who she knew could be no other than her usual companion on campus.

“Thanks, Suzui.”

“Always welcome, Mary.” The brunette lad replied with a smile. “You really can’t get used to my first name, huh?” Ryota chuckled as Mary rolled her eyes at it.

“It feels weird and uncomfortable if I suddenly call you so familiarly like that.”

“And yet you’re fine with me calling you ‘Mary’?” He asked.

“Well, it’s my name, isn’t it? Everyone calls me that.”

“If you say so.” Ryota shrugged.

The pair continued walking in silence, the afternoon sun beginning to set in the visible horizon.

While Mary usually preferred this quiet between them, today she would’ve have liked it better if Ryota just... chatted her up like he always did. Lately, her mind had been swirling with a lot of thoughts, and she kind of wanted a distraction from them now.

It wasn’t like they were terrible thoughts, or things that tortured her psyche to a horrible degree that she’d be left sleepless and distraught. No.

They were rather plain, actually.

The musings of her mind were simple, and maybe related to all her insecurities and complexes growing up that had all but exploded when she was in high school.

Why those thoughts and feelings were coming back to her years later, she had no clue.

What she did know was that Mary liked to think she wasn't special.

Odd thing for her to think about when her talk was usually about being a winner, and now wanting to be looked down upon; wanting to be equals with her insane best friend; being someone who wanted to claim her life for herself as her own.

For someone so ambitious and prideful-she was self-aware of this-, she didn’t think this train of thought existed within her mind.

Looking at herself objectively, however, Mary knew she wasn’t really all that spectacular or gifted. Saotome Mary was nothing special.

Okay no, not that she wasn't special. She was, well... Not average, at least.

But compared to the other intense gamblers at school name she was at least.. Sane..r. than most of them.

And like the normal person she claimed to be, Mary went to college. Just like anyone her age would after graduating from high school.

So yes, if she really thought about it, she was going about, using her free will to choose the most mundane life route. Still beats following a pre-writen life plan, though.

If one were to talk about special- Crazy special, crazy and special, now that, that was Jabami Yumeko.

Yumeko, and the Momobami clan, and fucking Kirari, especially. Mary shivered at the thought of the latter. It was no secret that she hated her guts. They sort of got along? Maybe? But she would still sock her if she had the chance.

And yet, as much as Mary claimed to loathe the woman, she had found herself on the long list of applicants to Kirari’s very corporation.

Great.

Mary found herself registering as an intern for their a new branch of the employee services. A new project that Tsuzura- her dear old friend who she’d been reunited with recently, had shown her; and upon finding out Mary’s course, excitedly assisted her with the paperwork.

Mary sighed. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed after all.

“It still surprises me.” Suzui suddenly cut into her thoughts, meeting Mary’s curious gaze as they crossed a bridge on their way home, Mary spotting the building of their shared apartment in the distance.

It wasn’t as though they were in any sort of engagement other than being friends. Mary just felt that it would be better to split the bill with someone else while in college, and maybe living with someone would help ease some other kinds of life burdens- heck she didn’t know. She wasn’t loaded like all their other friends, neither was she working for someone as filthy rich as Kirari-fricking-Momobami.

There were weird rumors that had floated around them for the first year of Uni, with how often they were together, and apparently living under one roof. Almost. Mary had to explain that they had separate bedrooms and bathrooms. However, Mary was very keen on making it known that she was very much not into Ryota, and very very much gay.

At most, Ryota was her platonic husband, or something. Or dog. Whichever sounded better.

But back to the issue that had just flown over Mary’s head.

“What surprises you?” She responded to him naturally, as if she wasn’t just thinking about their whole arrangement and a dozen other things instead of replying to him right away.

“That you’d choose to take this course.”

“Hah? You saying it don’t suit me, Mr. Commerce?” Mary challenged with a glare.

Ryota’s eyes widened, hands held our defensively in front of him. “No! No, that’s not it at all! Actually...” He gave her a once over. “It might suit you a little too much. The uniform.”

“Oi, creep, what were you just thinking of, huh?” Mary growled, slapping his shoulder. “Stop treating my uniform like cosplay, gosh.”

“First of all, Yumeko was the one that called it that. Second, you have to admit, it almost looks like you are-geh! Mary, we’ve talked about violence!”

“Can it, mom.” Mary grumbled, walking up the steps of their apartment complex, already fishing for the keys in her jeans pocket. “You deserved that one.”

“Okay, but nursing, Mary. You. Someone as violent as you, who causes pain. You being a nurse- please put your fist down. This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

Mary sighed, other hand pushing their door open. “Whatever. You all make fun of me and constantly ask me why. I told you why so many times!”

Ryota laughed at Mary’s expense as the girl continued grumbling about judgmental friends not appreciating her goodwill.

“I mean. You all are wack.”

Ryota gasped,a little offended. “Says you-”

Mary chose to ignore that.

“Itsuki somehow keeps hurting her nails lately, someone like Sayaka looks like she could take a break from stress or else she’d collapse. Girls is bordering insanity, I tell you. Yumeko just... doesn’t give a shit about her health in general. I swear, if she gets one more fever this week, Imma-”

Mary inhaled to calm her nerves. Ranting about Yumeko would only stress her more. Speaking of which, she should message her about her meds later.

Continuing on, “Ririka can’t cook a substantial meal to save her life.” Mary complained, remembering the time she came over to the twins’ Condo, only to see stacks of various takeout on the counter. Sayaka had been gone on a business trip for about two weeks, and Mary didn’t think these two were the type to feast on fast food, of all things.

They wanted to ‘try out commoner food’, as Kirari put it, a teasing smirk on her face as she looked down on Mary again.

“She needs to learn to cook healthier! Essential life skills!”

“She has chefs for that-”

“Irrelevant!”

“It’s actually pretty relevant.” Ryota pointed out. “And what does that even have to do with nurs-”

“Anyway! I’m doing this because I want to, and because you all are... i-important to me or whatever.” Mary suddenly turned bashful. “Health is wealth and all that shit.” Her cheeks were dusted red as she turned around, marching towards the kitchen for a glass of water to cool the burning feeling overcoming her. “And because med would take too long before one of you fools accidentally kills yourself.” Mary added before Ryota could ask anymore questions. That last statement, she shook her head, believing that it really was plausible.

With all they’d been through, it wasn’t unbelievable at all.

Ryota smiled, raising his hands in defeat.

“Okay, okay. Got it. Will never ask about it again.”

“That’s what you assholes always say.” Mary growled, looking ready to pounce again before it was cut off by a sudden chill running up her spine, bringing about another strong sneeze that shook her whole frame. “Gosh, what is up with today?”

“How ironic. Our little nurse is getting sick?”

“Fuck no, screw off, Suzui.” Mary barked.

“Hmm...” Ryota rubbed his chin with his fingers, pretending to be in thought. “Maybe someone is talking about you behind your back?” He jokingly provided.

“Ugh, if I had to say...” She sniffed. “It feels like my life is in danger. Or like someone's looking at me like a "thing" again. Ugh... It feels like all those times with Kirari. Or Yumeko... or both. Are their ghosts haunting me now?”

“Don’t just go off killing our friends like that.” Ryota scolded, approaching Mary and gripping her shoulders from behind before pushing her towards the direction of their rooms. “Maybe getting changed into warmer clothes will help.”

“Maybe.” Mary began walking on her own just a few steps before reaching her room. “Ayt, see ya then.”

“Bye.”

Before they could both enter their respective quarters, their phones went off, a message from the same person, they figured.

Sure enough, the sender couldn’t be any more familiar to them.

“Guess I’ll just grab a coat then.” Mary sighed. “Can’t really turn down an invitation from her.” She chuckled.

“You’re right about that.” Ryota shook his head, amused.

“Let’s go meet her then.” Mary finalized, to which the boy nodded in agreement. “Come on Suzui. Time to meet up with Yumeko.”

Somehow, deep down, Mary had a bad feeling.

She wasn’t special. So she hoped this meeting would be as normal as normal gets.

Somehow.

.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Country Roads, Take Me Home: Chap. 2

Fandom: NCIS LA

Characters: Marty Deeks, Kensi Blye

A/N: I'm telling you right now, this story may have gone completely off the rails. It's been a weird summer and...I honestly don't quite know what happened. This is your warning!

Read Chapter 1 Here

                                        XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They were up bright and early the next morning to take Monty to doggy daycare where Roberta would pick him up at the end of the day. Then they hit the road for Yosemite. So far, things were going exactly according to plan. Until they inevitably got stuck in LA traffic.

“Remember last night when I asked you about snacks? You brought some right? Because I don’t know how long I can last without snacks,” Kensi said after about forty minutes.

Deeks looked at her sideways. “Did I buy snacks? Do you think I don’t know you after all this time? Check the fridge.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and walked halfway back to the little kitchenette. Opening the fridge her eyes went wide in delight. “You got me Reese’s?”

“Of course I got you Reese’s. I wanted this to be fun, not the road trip from hell.”

She rejoined him, plopping happily back into her seat and giving him a peck on the cheek. “This is already off to a better start than all our other vacations.”

“I told you.”

“So why Yosemite? There lots of other parks in California.”

“Well first of all, Yosemite Sam. Second of all I was looking at the out of state parks and mapping our trip. The only one kind of on the way out is Yosemite. Well, and Death Valley, but I thought we should probably avoid any place that advertises killing off visitors.”

Kensi nodded, biting into a Reese’s. “Good point.”

He looked at her. “Are you going to share those?”

“I thought you bought them for me,” she said around a mouthful of chocolate.

“I did, but as your loving, devoted husband who is taking you on the vacation of a lifetime, who buys you snacks and cleans your house and saves your beautiful, beautiful ass multiple times a week, you could share one.”

She glared at him and withdrew one candy from the bag, putting it directly into his hand. “Thank you,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road as he unwrapped it.

“What is all this traffic?” she asked, trying to peer down the freeway. 

“Rush hour,” Deeks said, moving them forward another two feet.

“It’s not usually this bad at this time.” She craned her neck, pushing up out of her seat. “I think someone has a flat tire.”

Sure enough up ahead there was a much older and smaller RV half on/half off the shoulder. “We should see if they need help,” Kensi said.

“Babe we’re off duty. They look fine.”

She gave him a look and he sighed, flipping on the blinker to maneuver them onto the shoulder behind the stopped vehicle. They hopped out and walked toward an older couple evaluating a very flat tire. “Hey you need some help?” Kensi called over the noise of the traffic.

“Oh bless me, yes, thank you!” A woman who looked to be about Roberta’s age waved at them. “My Bill here could use some assistance.”

“What’s the problem?” Deeks asked.

The man, Bill apparently, stood and rubbed his hands together. “Carol and I were just driving along and we musta run over something. Tire’s flat as a pancake and those lug nuts are so tight it’s like they’re cemented on.”

“Young man if you could give him a hand we would appreciate it,” Carol said. 

Deeks shook his head and gestured to Kensi. “Sugarbear, this one’s all yours.”

“Oh,” Carol seemed startled. “I don’t think—“

Kensi reached for the tire iron and within seconds had loosened one of the nuts. Both Bill and Carol raised their eyebrows. “Well I’ll be darned,” Bill said in amazement.

“Somebody’s been eating their wheaties!” Carol said. 

Kensi smiled as she worked the second lug nut. “My dad had a lot of tricks.”

“I’m Marty,” Deeks said, holding out a hand. “This is my wife Kensi.”

“Bill and Carol Weekes,” Bill said. “That’s quite a lady you’ve got there.”

Deeks smiled. “She certainly is.”

“Babe, can you get the spare?” Kensi called.

“On it!” Deeks looked to Bill.

“I think it’s in the back,” he said. “Come on in.”

Deeks followed Bill inside the RV and was immediately assaulted. “Ah! What the—?”

“Oh, sorry!” Bill said. “Kujo! Chewbarka! Tank! Twinkie! Patrick Dempsey get off him!”

In a rush of fur and wagging tails, five dogs raced back to Bill, leaving Deeks covered in slobber and dog hair. “They’re tame, just likely to lick you to death,” Bill said with a chuckle.

“Uh yeah,” Deeks said, wiping his hands on his pants. “Ouch!” He jumped as teeth sank into his ankle.

“Patrick Dempsey!” Bill yelled again, swatting the little dachshund away. “I shoulda said they’ll all lick you to death except PD. He’s vicious.”

“Right.” Deeks rubbed the sore spot. “The tire?”

“Oh yeah!” Bill popped open a hatch and hauled out a donut. “There we go.”

“Great.” Deeks grabbed it from him. “Let’s take this to Kensi and she’ll have you out of here in no time.”

He received a final nip from Patrick Dempsey on the way out the door, then handed the tire over to Kensi. Together they had it on within minutes. “Oh my goodness, how can we ever thank you?” Carol said as Kensi tightened the final bolt.

“No need,” Kensi said. “We’re happy to help.”

“Well that’s not acceptable,” Carol said bustling off into the RV.

“Aw my Carol. She’s not going to let you leave empty handed,” Bill said, elbowing Deeks with a grin.

Sure enough Carol was back seconds later, a tinfoil wrapped plate in her hand. “Here,” she said. “These are some of my world famous chocolate chip cookies. Made with real butter and eggs, none of that vegan stuff all you west coasters are so fond of.”

Deeks had to bite back a laugh as he took the plate. “Thank you. You two be safe now all right?” He said.

“Will do!” They waved cheerily as they headed back inside and started the RV up.

“Well they were…” Kensi couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Yep,” Deeks said. “And you didn’t even get a bite from Patrick Dempsey.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What?”

Deeks shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Come on. Adventure awaits in…approximately five hours depending on traffic.”

It was a lot more like seven hours by the time they finally trundled into the park. Deeks picked up a parking tag for the RV and a map to their campsite. “Oh thank god,” Kensi said as they pulled into their spot. “I need to get out of this thing.”

“You do realize we’re going to spend most of this trip inside the RV,” Deeks said. “That’s why I got the nice one.”

“And it is so nice baby, but breathing the same air as you for this many hours is…too much.”

“I think you’re hangry. Let’s get a little fire going and we can have some hot dogs, a couple s’mores and you’ll feel better,” Deeks said.

“You know the way directly to my heart,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

It was quick and easy to get a campfire burning and soon they were cuddled up next to one another in a blanket, making s’mores. Kensi had just whispered something very dirty in Deeks’ ear and he was on the verge of grabbing her and taking the party indoors when a very loud, rundown RV pulled into the spot directly next to them. “Well that’s not really what we came here for,” Deeks grumbled as the RV backfired and let out a huge explosion of exhaust before giving a wheezing cough as it turned off.

“Um, Deeks?” Kensi said. “Is that—“

The RV’s door opened and a dachshund ran out, barking like mad, and lunging for Deeks’ leg. “Whoa!” he yelled, dropping his s’more and leaping out of his seat.

“Patrick Dempsey! You get back here right now!” A woman bellowed, charging out the door after him.

“Carol?” Kensi asked as she pulled the dog off Deeks’ leg.

“Well hey there fellow travelers!” Bill said, smiling broadly as he descended the steps. “What a coincidence!”

“Coincidence or nightmare?” Deeks muttered, rubbing his calf.

“It is a coincidence,” Kensi said, elbowing Deeks to shut him up. “I don’t remember you saying this was on your schedule.”

“Well we got to talking as we drove and Kensi, you made this sound like such a fun idea we decided to hop on over,” Carol said.

“Really sold it to ‘em huh Kens?” Deeks asked under his breath.

She elbowed him again. “Well don’t let us interrupt your fun,” Carol said. “You two lovebirds looked so cozy when we drove up. We’ll just keep to ourselves over here.”

“And don’t worry about making too much noise! You know, if things start to heat up later.” Bill winked at them. “Carol and I are very sound sleepers. Won’t hear a thing.”

“Perfect,” Deeks said weakly. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well I guess we’ll turn in,” Bill told them. “Been a long day. You kids have fun!”

Patrick Dempsey gave a final yip as Carol scooped him up and they went back inside. 

“So…do we turn around and go home now?” Kensi asked.

“No,” Deeks said firmly as he put out the fire. “This is going to be a normal vacation. We’re going to see lots of pretty rocks, eat road food, and have lots of sex. NORMAL.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “I’m not sure we’re capable of normal.”

“Yes we are,” he insisted, grabbing her hand. “Come on.”

He pulled her inside and the door had barely closed before he was kissing her, hands fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. “Deeks!” Kensi laughed, then gasped as he nipped at that one, particular spot on her neck. “Deeks, what are you doing?”

“Well we gave this thing a test drive. We tried out the refrigerator, the wifi, the satellite. And now, I think we need to test out the bed,” he said with a grin, swinging her up into his arms and carrying her to the back of the RV where he tossed her onto the mattress.

He whipped off his belt with a dramatic flair and then dove on top of her, pressing kisses to her face, neck, wherever he could find as she laughed. “I think you’re still a little overdressed here,” she said, tugging at his t-shirt. 

“Well that’s easily fixed.” Deeks sat up fast to take the shirt off and whacked his head on the ceiling. 

“Ooh!” Kensi sat up, reaching to cradle his face while he closed his eyes in pain. “Oh my god, are you all right?”

“Ow. Yep. That smarts.” He rubbed the top of his head. “I feel like that’s a pretty major design flaw.”

“Well maybe they didn’t intend for people to have wild and crazy sex in here,” she said, trying to stifle her laughter.

“No problem,” Deeks said with a grimace, clearly trying to ignore his throbbing skull. “We’ll just switch tactics.”

He leaned down toward her again and was immediately interrupted by the loudest, most frantic barking either one of them had ever heard. “You have got to be kidding me,” he said dropping his head onto Kensi’s chest.

She ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to the injured spot. “They’ll stop in a second.”

Sure enough they waited a moment and the barking ceased. “Okay then, back to business,” Deeks said with a grin, leaning over once more.

The barking started again. And then again. And then….again. Deeks groaned and rolled onto his back so they were side by side. 

“This is unbelievable,” Kensi said breathless and annoyed.

“So much for a normal vacation.”

                                   XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Sometimes people ask if I base my stories on real life so, fun fact, for eleven years my family had a mini dachshund named Willy. He was a demon beast from hell. Seriously. Patrick Dempsey is based on him. His name is Patrick Dempsey because I think it's hilarious when animals have extremely human names. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! More shenanigans to come!

[the--highlanders]

5. Sparkle

on ao3.

The Doctor sighed. “Such a pity that the observation deck was booked out.”

Ducking his head, Jamie struggled to suppress a smile. The Doctor had been huffing and moping about since they had been turned away from the entrance to the deck, and he had no doubt that it was quite pointed. “Such a pity,” he agreed, for what must have been the tenth time. “I know ye wanted tae see the meteor shower.”

“It wasn’t really at capacity, you know,” the Doctor said wistfully. “They only said it was so his Grace the Duke –” he spat out the name with disgust – “wouldn’t have to brush up against too many ordinary people and risk getting the hem of his cape dirty.”

It was oddly charming, Jamie thought, that of all the distasteful people they ran into – corrupt businessmen and mad scientists and plotting politicians – that the Doctor’s most disdainful tone was reserved for people who refused to get their clothes messed up. “Aye, well. He’s that sort, isn’t he?” The soft huff of laughter that pushed its way past his lips was more full of scorn than amusement, and the Doctor laughed too, tossing Jamie a delighted smile at their shared irritation. “Thinks he’s too good for the rest of us.” He jerked his head towards the high brick fence running along the road beside them. “Doesnae even let people look at his land.”

“Mm.” The Doctor pressed his hands into fists, glowering at the wall as if he was imagining pulling it apart brick by brick. “Something of an unpleasant chap, I think. I’d rather like to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Maybe tomorrow, after he’s signed those papers tae get Ben an’ Polly out of jail, eh?” Grinning, Jamie ducked beneath a thick tree limb that hung over the path. He reached up to it as he passed, running his fingers over the bark – for all that it was coloured deep purple, the texture was comfortingly familiar – then stopped, lifting his other hand to pull on it experimentally. It did not bend or shake beneath his weight, and he stepped back, following the line of it as it curved over the wall to join with the trunk of a tree on the other side.

Ahead of him, the Doctor had realised he was still standing beneath the bough, and turned to see what he was doing. “Jamie, what -”

“Ye said ye wanted tae see the meteor shower, right?” Try as he might, it was too high for Jamie to lever himself onto. He dropped to the ground again, puffing and rubbing his reddened hands against his kilt. “Give us a leg up, won’t ye?” The Doctor hurried over obligingly, bending down so Jamie could push off him and scramble up into the tree. He lay there for a moment, pressed against the bark, then sat up and reached out to pull the Doctor after him. “Oof. You’re no’ half heavy.”

“The Duke isn’t at home,” the Doctor pointed out. “So unless you’re planning on vandalism -”

“I’m no’,” Jamie interrupted. “I’m plannin’ on us seeing the meteor shower.” He edged his way further along the bough until he had crossed over the fence. “It’s a big tree. If we climb tae the top, we’re bound tae get a good view – an’ somewhere comfortable to sit, which is better than on that deck.”

“Oh!” The Doctor clapped his hands together in excitement, but quickly pressed them back against the bark when he wobbled slightly. “Jamie, you are clever.”

Jamie snorted. “No’ really. I’m sure ye had somethin’ up your sleeve.”

“Well, of course – but I was only thinking along the lines of breaking and entering. Stargazing from the top of one of the Duke’s trees is so much more – romantic.”

“If that’s what ye think is romantic -” Jamie paused, putting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the branches in front of him. Picking out a sturdy-looking one, he hauled himself up onto it, grumbling as the impact of his stomach against the branch pushed the air out of him. “If that’s what ye think is romantic, then I’m a wee bit worried.”

“Don’t be silly.” The Doctor followed him up with uncharacteristic grace, his eyes gleaming with anticipation in the half-light. “There’s nothing more romantic than a little bit of, ah – harmless flouting of the rules. I haven’t been this silly since -”

“Last week, when ye told that ambassador he had – he had an undiscovered particle for a brain, I think ye said.”

“And I thought we agreed never to speak of that.” The Doctor’s scowl softened into a satisfied smirk. “He was being idiotically obtuse, though.”

Shaking his head, Jamie clambered onto another branch. This one gave way to a pleasant enough crook in the trunk of the tree, and he tucked himself into it, throwing his legs over the branch and folding his arms behind his head. “In here, look.” Something flickered at the corner of his vision, and he looked up to see a streak of fire darting across the sky. It was gone before he could get a proper look at it, but there was only one thing it could have been. “Hey, it’s started!”

“Ah!” The Doctor scrambled into the hollow after him. “Wait for me!” he exclaimed, as if the sky would stay still until he had gotten himself comfortable. “Good gracious – a little ahead of schedule, isn’t it?”

“Dunno.” Another meteor arced its way across the sky, leaving a trail of blazing embers behind it. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, throwing out a backdrop of dusky pink that gave way to deep blue, broken only by the gold of the rings that surrounded the planet. It was a breathtaking sight, and Jamie found himself almost as enraptured as the Doctor looked to be.

“It only happens every couple of years,” he was saying softly. “There’s nothing quite like it on this side of the galaxy. Not with so many meteors, or such big ones.” Another was sailing along in the wake of its companions, sparkling as it went. “Or so close to us.”

The meteors were coming in groups now, filling the sky with reds and oranges and yellows. Some of them burnt up before they reached the horizon, leaving larger scatters of embers behind them. Once or twice, a truly huge chunk of stone hurtled past, faster and brighter than the others, occasionally knocking into them and sending them careening off course. The distant sound of cheering and music floated through the air, and Jamie could only imagine that it had come from the deck they had left behind, but he could not bring himself to feel even a little disappointed. Instead he simply reached over to gently unfold the Doctor’s fingers, pressing his hand into his own.

“Is it what ye thought it’d be?” he murmured.

The Doctor’s rapt silence said all he needed to hear.

They lay there watching the dusk turn slowly to night, until the plucked and pruned splendour of the Duke’s gardens were made wild by a thick darkness, and the burbling of fountains and landscaped streams was interspersed with the cries of wild animals outside the walls. The meteors carried on falling, gradually growing smaller and slower, only a few of them reaching the skyline.

“Jamie?” the Doctor murmured.

“Aye?”

“Thank you.”

Jamie squeezed his hand, twisting around a little to smile at him. He found them pressed together nose-to-nose, the Doctor already smiling back. “You’re welcome.”

Quiet fell over them for another few minutes, broken only by the soft rustling of the wind through the trees until the Doctor spoke again. “Jamie?”

“Mm?”

The Doctor opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking around them nervously. He shuffled away to peer over the edge of the hollow they were curled in, but quickly retreated back to Jamie’s side, pressing himself back down. “Well – you see -” He swallowed thickly. “It’s a little silly, you see.”

“It’s no’.” Rubbing his arm, Jamie tried to scrape together the most comforting expression he could muster. “We’ve had a lovely night, an’ Ben and Polly will be let out in the morning, an’ then we’ll go back tae the TARDIS.” He grinned. “Or maybe even teach that Duke a lesson first.”

“It’s not any of that.” The Doctor was squirming now, biting his lip as if he were physically holding the words inside himself. “It’s -”

“Aye?”

“I don’t know if I can get down.”

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 11

The Tiger and the Dragon by George deValier

Chapter saved by fluffchemy ♥

Yao shut his door behind him, raced down the stairs, and nearly ran into Francis, Arthur and Alfred in the entranceway. He couldn't stop. If he stopped, he would start to think. He gave them a brief wave and tried to step around them, but was forced to a halt by Alfred's grip on his arm.

"Hey, Yao! Where are you going?"

"I am going to Ivan's and I am going to have sex," said Yao determinedly. Not thinking about it, not thinking about it…

Alfred's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. There was a silent pause as he turned and gave Arthur and Francis an incredulous look. Francis whistled. "Nice."

"Are you drunk?" asked Arthur uncertainly.

"Not yet. Excuse me." Yao again tried to walk past, and again Alfred held him back.

"Oh no, not before you explain yourself. And have you forgotten?" Alfred held up a large paper bag and shook it before Yao's face. "It's takeout night."

"Sorry, gotta rush…"

"You can't spare half an hour to eat?" asked Arthur.

"Yeah, apparently you are going to need your strength," laughed Francis.

"No because if I don't go immediately I might actually stop to think about this and then I'll probably freak out and then I may just never go at all so please move out of my way before I oh God, too late, now I'm thinking about it, aru." Yao closed his eyes and felt himself turn bright red. Oh God I said that out loud earlier didn't I…

"Yao," said Francis.

"Yes?" Yao refused to open his eyes.

"How are you even getting there?"

"I, um…" Yao opened his eyes to see his three friends staring at him as though he had gone mad. "I didn't think that far ahead."

"Okay," said Arthur. "Take a deep breath, turn your brain back on, and come have a burger."

"I don't think so, I really better, aru, leave, because now I'm actually a bit embarrassed and…" Yao broke off when Arthur grasped his other arm and, along with Alfred, hauled him into their apartment. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"That's it, we're staging an intervention," said Alfred, not releasing Yao until they threw him onto the couch. Yao groaned loudly.

"I've had enough of these."

"We're only doing this because we care about you. You have to admit you have a problem, it's the only way we can help you!"

"Alfred, what are you on about?"

"Ignore him, he's been watching too much Dr Phil," said Arthur.

"But he has a point, chéri," said Francis. "You have been late for work three times this week. And that's not counting the times you just haven't shown up. I am happy you're happy but really, Yao, this is taking over your life."

"You're not even like yourself anymore," added Arthur.

Yao narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "You mean I'm not boring and predictable? You were the ones who said…"

Arthur interrupted him. "We never said you could completely ignore us and we definitely never said you should start acting like a stupid teenager without a brain in his head." All three of them stood looking down at him. Yao felt like a naughty child being scolded. It was incredibly irritating.

"Please stop treating me like a child."

"Well then, stop acting like one."

"Would you rather me act like an 'old man' again? I know you're used to me always dropping everything for you guys, or rather having nothing to drop in the first place, but I have a boyfriend now, or, well, something along those lines, and…"

"That's great but that doesn't mean you can forget about everything else in your life. Now sit down, shut up, and have a burger." Yao caught the burger Alfred threw him then took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

"So," said Francis, dropping onto the couch beside him and grabbing a handful of fries. "You are going to Ivan's to… what was it?" Yao cringed in embarrassment. He really needed to think before he spoke sometimes.

The weekly takeout night was a tradition Alfred had introduced shortly after they had first moved in. One night a week Francis and Yao suppressed their culinary distaste and forced down greasy burgers and fries from one of the hideous fast food outlets that Alfred loved so much. Arthur didn't seem to mind, but he seemed to be able to eat anything. It was an opportunity to catch up and generally hang out… sometimes the only chance they got in their busy schedules. As he listened to Arthur discuss his thesis, Francis relate all the latest gossip from work, and Alfred recount all the heroic things he'd done that week at work - including rescuing an injured squirrel from a tree - Yao realized that he really had been sort of neglecting his friends. It was good to just sit and listen to them banter on again. But of course, after his earlier outburst, the conversation had quickly swung around to Ivan.

Yao already regretted the meal. Empty paper wrappers littered the coffee table and a faintly greasy smell hung in the air. Alfred lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and rubbing his stomach mournfully. Five burgers was a lot even for him. Arthur sat on the floor, leaning on the coffee table and steadily adding scotch to a paper takeaway cup of coke while Francis drank Arthur's halfway decent wine out of a coffee mug. "So just how far have you gone, anyway?" asked Francis.

Yao paused, chewed on a nail, looked at his friends expectant faces, and wondered if discussing his concerns with his best friends was really a good idea. However, since Ivan had mentioned it, sex had become Yao's obsession. It was practically all he thought about, much to the detriment of his work and friendships, and much to his own amazement. When Ivan had rung earlier and suggested Yao come over, he had been out the door before he had any time to think.

"Well," said Yao, wondering how to answer Francis's question, "the thing is… aru… Ivan has the biggest… um… er…"

"Cock," said Francis gleefully. Alfred snickered and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, Francis… that I have ever seen. And before you say anything smartassed, I have seen a few, because last month I spent a night with Kiku and Feliciano watching Ludwig's porn collection." A contemplative silence followed.

"Huh," said Alfred finally. "You're a braver man than I."

"What was it like?" asked Arthur, leaning forward with a look of horror on his face.

"There are certain images that will forever haunt my darkest hours, but that's not the point here, is it. We're talking about Ivan's… um…"

"Enormous cock." This time Alfred burst into a fit of giggles and Arthur kicked him.

"Thank you, Francis." Yao could not quite believe he was having this conversation.

"Lucky you, I say," said Francis.

"No, you don't understand. It's really quite..." Yao could not bring himself to continue the sentence. He really could not believe he was having this conversation.

"I stand by my statement. And I don't want to say I told you so, but…"

Yao interrupted quickly. "What am I supposed to do?" He couldn't help feeling embarrassed at the question. He felt like the only 21 year old virgin in the world.

"You've seen Ludwig's porn and you still need to ask that question?" asked Arthur.

Yao glared at him. "You know what I mean."

"Just get completely smashed, old chap." Arthur raised his cup and took a deep swig as though to demonstrate.

Yao rolled his eyes. "That's your answer to everything."

"Why don't you just fuck him, then?" asked Arthur.

"Um… I get the feeling that's not an option." Yao cringed in embarrassment. I am not having this conversation. I am too mature for this conversation. 

"I'll get you a can of mace," said Alfred. So far he had not contributed much to the conversation except to offer Yao defense options. "I don't trust that commy bastard. I reckon he's an undercover KGB agent." Yao stared at Alfred incredulously. And only the other day he had been so close to the actual answer.

Francis shrugged and reached for more wine. "I don't know what your problem is. Isn't this a good thing?" When Yao raised an eyebrow skeptically, he sighed and continued. "Look, just relax and tell him to go slow. I must say that I'm really not surprised, especially after he texted me the length of his ring finger."

Yao wasn't sure he had heard that correctly. "He texted you?"

Francis nodded around a mouthful of wine. "Yes, he did say he would let me know, remember?"

Yao wasn't even all that surprised in the end. "What is all this about the freaking ring finger anyway?"

"You know. The length of your ring finger is a direct percentage to the size of your…"

"Oh that is such bullshit," interrupted Yao. Although Ivan does have very big hands… He looked down to find Arthur and Alfred staring at their hands.

"Hey Arthur, compare." Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and tried to hold it against his own.

"Bugger off!" cried Arthur, pulling away.

"Hey, Yao, you should ask Arthur for advice," grinned Alfred.

Yao shook his head. Sometimes he really did not know why he hung around with these people. "And why is that?"

Alfred waved his hand at Yao. "Baby, have you seen the size of this ring finger?"

Yao covered his face with his hands. He was too mature for this conversation... but he also couldn't help laughing. "I knew I never should have brought this up."

.

Yao stood at Ivan's front door clutching his bag to his chest. It contained a bottle of rum, a can of mace, and a packet of strawberry flavored double extra large condoms. The only thing Yao had packed himself was his toothbrush. He had only realized halfway to Ivan's that he had left his lucky Buddha in his work pants, and so was feeling distinctly nervous. This would be his first time seeing Ivan without it. He glanced uneasily over at a black limousine parked in the driveway, its driver leaning against the car and staring curiously back at him. Yao had left Francis' car at the front gate. He hoped it would be safe... it had taken him an hour to convince Francis to let him borrow it. Yao took a deep breath to calm his nerves and rang the bell for the fourth time. What could possibly be taking so long... he'd been buzzed through the front gate only ten minutes earlier. He stared at the door and willed it to open. When it didn't, he hesitantly reached for the door handle and, finding it unlocked, he let himself into the opulent front entrance. He headed towards the living room but stopped at the sound of an unpleasantly familiar voice speaking. Yao shuddered at the cold and disturbing tone, yet edged closer to the living room entry to better hear the words.

"I do not think you are taking this as seriously as the situation warrants, Ivan. Someone is accessing incredibly sensitive information on our activities. This is what, the fourth attack on our online operations?"

"The fifth." That sounded like Eduard. Yao listened, holding his breath. He had heard them talking about something like this before, but had no idea exactly what they meant.

"Thank you, the fifth. If the names and details contained within these accessed files fall into certain hands, we may find ourselves in a very, very dangerous situation. You not least of all. There are certain clients who, if implicated with us, will be most upset. And must I even inform you of the risk of these details coming to the attention of the law?" Yao's eyes widened at that. He looked behind him at the door. Should he leave? Walk in as though he hadn't heard anything? He was growing increasingly nervous.

"Eduard is working to be finding the responsible person," said Ivan. Yao's chest leaped at his voice. "We know is someone close involved in the business. I assure you, once person is found, they will being disposed of." Yao's body went rigid and his fingers tightened around his bag strap. Disposed of… "So what, now, do you wish that I do?"

"I will tell you what I wish you to do. I wish you to narrow down a list of suspicious persons, and allow me to do what I do best. Get the information we need from them."

Ivan laughed. "Ah, General, you just wish to torture someone." Yao felt his stomach churn. He knew he should be backing up now, but could not make himself move. To know what sort of business Ivan was involved in was one thing. To hear him speak of it was something else entirely.

"Not at all. That is simply a pleasant additional benefit. Now let's have a little think about some suspicious persons, shall we? There is your sister, for one."

"Yes, Natalia could be suspicious. Do you think Natalia suspicious, Eduard?"

"Sir, I don't believe she would have the knowledge or the means," replied Eduard.

"Someone could be helping her." Winter's voice contained an accusation. Yao could feel sweat rising to his forehead.

"I assure you, Toris would never betray me. Would you, Toris?"

"Sir, I would die first."

"There you are, General. Toris would die first." Something about the way Ivan said it made Yao shudder. He tried to force himself to move. He couldn't. "Do you know, General," continued Ivan, "I think actually the one with most to gain from this information would be you. You agree?"

Winter laughed cruelly. "Oh I agree completely. But you know, Ivan, that I am not nearly so stupid as that. In fact, I have a little suspicion of my own. There is someone who I believe you may have reason to be wary of. Someone who came into your life recently. Very interesting timing, no?" Yao's breath caught in his lungs. Move, move, move...

It took Ivan a long moment to respond. When he did, his voice was far less cheerful. "Be careful, Winter."

"Perhaps it is he who should be careful. He is standing listening in the entrance right now."

The shock of fear that ran through Yao left him frozen still. He could feel a bead of sweat snaking down his temple. "Come in, Mr Wang!" Yao's eyes darted again to the door, but he knew it was too late. He forced his unsteady legs to move and carry him into the living room. Toris, Eduard and Raivis all leaned against the bar, their expressions a mixture of worry and surprise. Ivan sat rigidly on the couch. His eyebrows shot up and he looked genuinely shocked. Yao looked at him almost pleadingly. Please get me out of here...

"You did not tell me Yao had arrived, Toris."

"I swear I didn't know, sir. The gate should be locked, I was waiting until..."

"So it seems you invited the boy around again," interrupted Winter contemptuously. He leaned casually back in an armchair, a glass of vodka in his hand. Ivan stared at him warily.

"This is my house, Winter," he said, warningly.

"He should not be here."

Yao felt sick. This felt wrong. He didn't know if he should speak, or even what he would say. Why the hell hadn't he turned and left when he had the chance... General Winter stood abruptly and Ivan immediately did the same, his eyes not moving from Winter. Yao tried to edge closer to Ivan. Raivis started stammering.

"Maybe I… maybe I should show Yao through to the…"

Toris took a few steps forward. "I will see Mr Wang out immediately..."

"Still, this is not entirely an unfortunate incident," said Winter smoothly, ignoring them both. "I think perhaps I may take full advantage of this opportunity to test my little suspicion."

It all happened so quickly. Winter smiled, his eyes flashed, and then he advanced quickly on Yao. Yao dropped his bag, felt his chest constrict, and took a few frantic and clumsy steps backward until his back was against the wall. Ivan shouted and lunged but Winter was closer, and before Ivan could reach him he had his cold, iron hard hand wrapped around Yao's throat. Yao reflexively reached up to grasp Winter's wrist. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.

"Stop where you are, Ivan, or I will snap this boy's neck like a twig."

Yao's head swam with a terror unlike anything he had ever felt before. It felt like his entire body was shutting down, leaving him numb except for the icy heat that spread across his skin and the painful cold iron that gripped his throat. He would have shouted but he barely had enough air to breathe.

"Winter, you hurt him, I swear your death will not be quick," growled Ivan.

Winter ignored him. "Tell me, Mr Wang. What interest do you have in Mr Braginski's operations?" He loosened his grip enough for Yao to speak. Yao gulped for breath.

"I don't know what you mean. I don't know anything. Ivan!" The hand closed on his throat again and Yao saw blackness flash before his eyes as Winter lifted him from the ground. Pain shot through his neck and down his spine.

"Please stop it!" cried Raivis frantically. From the corner of his eye Yao saw Ivan take another step forward.

"Step back, Braginski," said Winter threateningly. Yao tried to look at Ivan but could barely see through the fear clouding his head. "So am I to expect, Mr Wang, that you are simply interested in Ivan for his pleasant company? For his conversational skills? For nothing to do with his operations whatsoever?"

"Sir, please stop this. Mr Wang has nothing to do with the attack, there is no possible way..."

"I am asking the questions here, Eduard!" shouted Winter. "I will thank you all to shut up, calm down, and..." Winter was interrupted by a smooth, subtle clicking sound. Yao focused his sight enough to look past Winter's shoulders and see Toris holding a gun calmly to the back of the General's head.

"And I will thank you, General, to take your hand off Yao's throat and back off." Toris' words were slow and even. The room spun around Yao as he looked back slowly, tense, terrified, into Winter's eyes. They were dead. Cold, evil. Dead.

"Toris." Ivan's voice sounded like it was coming from far away. There was a shuffling in the corner of Yao's eye and then the butt of the gun smashed into Winter's skull. Yao fell heavily to the floor, relief mingling with terror, and forced himself to look up through the waves of darkness that pounded through his head. Ivan held the gun and was staring at Winter with the most terrifying expression Yao had ever seen. Yao barely noticed Raivis running over to crouch beside him but just watched, transfixed, motionless, as Ivan again slammed Winter with the gun, this time sending him crashing to the floor on his back. "This was stupid of you, General."

And then Yao saw it. What everyone meant when they said Ivan was terrifying. It was as though something had been unleashed - those violet eyes blazing, the normally serenely smiling lips twisted in a snarl, Ivan's very presence overwhelming the entire room. Everything had happened too fast, this brutal sudden violence when only moments earlier they had been sitting talking calmly over glasses of vodka. It was utterly surreal. Ivan cocked the gun, pointed it at the ground, and Yao clapped a hand to his mouth to keep from screaming when Ivan shot a deafening bullet into the ground only inches from Winter's head. "Do you hear me, Winter? Very, very stupid."

Ivan slammed his boot into Winter's ribs, an audible crack filling the room. He kicked Winter over, face down, before swiftly kneeling, grabbing him by the hair, and ripping his head back. He growled a few words in Russian then smashed Winter's face into the floor. Yao's stomach tightened as bile rose in his throat. Raivis was speaking to him but he could not understand the words. Again Ivan wrenched Winter's head back and shouted. The carpet was already stained with blood. Winter just laughed and spat a few words. Ivan's laugh in response was even more frightening than the previous violence. Yao didn't want to know what the men were saying. When Ivan pounded Winter's head into the ground again, he did not move. Ivan grabbed Winter's hand, pressed the barrel of the gun into his palm, and to Yao's horror he could not make himself look away.

"Sir!" Ivan paused at Toris' panicked shout. After a long moment he very slowly turned, stared first at Toris, then Raivis, and then finally at Yao. Yao shrunk back into the wall behind him. Then Ivan seemed to come back to himself. He stood slowly, straightened his jacket, adjusted his scarf, and walked over to Toris.

"Thank you, Toris," said Ivan calmly, handing over the gun. "I apologize, gun may need cleaning. Eduard, please see if the General is needing medical assistance. Yao. You are all right?"

Yao didn't know what to think. He didn't want to think. Nothing seemed real. He was unable to believe that this was the same Ivan before him. When Ivan took a step towards him, Yao flinched away and pulled himself shakily to his feet. Raivis tried uncertainly to help him. "Don't stand so fast, Yao. Breathe deeply."

But Yao barely heard him. He could not tear his eyes from Ivan's face, those blazing eyes now concerned and even slightly confused. "I have… I…" Yao could barely speak. "I have to go." He swayed on his feet. Ivan reached out as though to steady him and Yao recoiled. "Don't touch me," he snapped.

Yao nearly gasped at his own words. He did not know who was more shocked, him or Ivan. But he just turned his head from Ivan's confused expression and ran for the front door, ignoring the dizziness rushing through his head. He had to get away from here. Away from the unconscious monster on the floor, from Toris and his gun, from everything. It was all suddenly too real. Everything he had tried to ignore had just hit him in the face.

Yao ran out the front door, gulping the cold air into his lungs. He barely made it halfway down the driveway before his legs went weak beneath him and he stumbled and fell heavily to his knees. He placed a hand before him to steady himself. When it brushed a flower he realized that he had landed in one of the sunflower beds that lined the drive. He sat back and tried to pull himself together. If he had not been stopped, what would Winter have done? What would Ivan have done? This was too much. Yao reached up to touch his throat. It throbbed painfully. As he breathed deeply and tried to stop shaking, the flowers before him were suddenly thrown into shadow. He looked up apprehensively to find Raivis smiling nervously down at him.

"Um. Mr Braginski told me to drive you home. I know this is kind of a stupid question but, are you all right, Yao?"

Yao shook his head and tried to laugh. "Not really, Raivis. But driving me home sounds like a very good idea. Thank you."

.

Yao walked slowly into his apartment, still feeling slightly unsteady on his feet. He hoped the others had not heard him come home early... this was not something he wanted to have to explain. He looked at himself in his bedroom mirror – his throat was red, purple bruises starting to form. He found himself suddenly rethinking a few things as he gingerly touched the sore and throbbing skin. So this was what everyone meant when they said this was dangerous. Again Yao wondered just what might have happened if Toris had not had that gun - and quickly decided not to think about it.

Yao reached for his work pants, pulled out his lucky Buddha, and sat him carefully on the dresser. "Could've used you today, buddy." He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and fell back onto the bed. He wanted to fall asleep. Wanted to forget. Wanted to get that image of Ivan slamming someone's bloody head into the ground out of his mind. He realized he was still shaking and buried his head in the pillow. Maybe when he woke up, this would all have been a dream.

What seemed like minutes later, but could have been hours, the sound of a knock at his front door startled Yao from his light sleep. He swore to himself as he dragged himself out of bed. It was probably Francis wondering what he was doing home already. So he would have to explain this after all.

"Yeah I know, Yao ended up home alone once again..." Yao trailed off as he opened the door. His heart sped up and pounded rapidly. Ivan stood at the door, his expression a mixture of guilt, concern and, strangely, fear. He smiled uncertainly.

"I will leave immediately if you wish."

It took Yao three seconds to decide. "No. Please come in."

.

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

THANK YOU FLUFFCHEMY FOR SAVING THIS CHAPTER!

[ezzydean]

96. the proposal au anyone?? spending the holidays with your fake fiance’s family? - SouMako

“I owe you so much,” Sousuke said, pulling Makoto to a stop.  “Like.  You have no idea.”

Makoto glanced up at the house they stopped in front of, every window bright with warm light, and then at Sousuke.

“I mean.  I kind of do.”  He gave Sousuke a sly grin.  It was a look that Sousuke hadn’t known Makoto could have on his face until about an hour after they reconnected at the agency years ago.  “After all you only owe me your career.”  Makoto started ticking off points on his fingers.  “Your grasp on budgeting, half your wardrobe, almost half of your dates.”  Makoto’s voice broke off into a giggle, a downright pure fucking giggle, when Sousuke grimaced and grabbed at his fingers, squeezing and pushing at them until they folded against Makoto’s palm.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I get it.  I am a disaster without you around.”  Sousuke swallowed thickly.  “But this isn’t just you putting in a good word for me or going on a shopping trip with me.  This is.  A lot.”

Makoto looked up at the house again with an odd twist to his lips and Sousuke was struck by how elegant he looked.  The streetlight behind him illuminated his face in soft light and gentle shadows, the cool air turned his breaths into wispy clouds and flushed his cheeks perfectly, and when he glanced over at Sousuke the lights in the house ahead glittered in his eyes like sparkling diamonds.  His scarf was tucked perfectly under his chin.  His bangs stuck out from under his light blue woolen cap like they had been specifically and artfully arranged to frame his eyes.  He was a damn gorgeous man.

This wasn’t going to work.  There was no way his family would ever believe someone like Makoto was his fiance.

Makoto’s eyes slid back to the house again and Sousuke took a breath to tell Makoto just that - and that he appreciated everything Makoto had done for him over the years - when he finally recognized the look on Makoto’s face.  A longing wistfulness that reminded him of his cousins staring into a storefront a few years ago, faces pressed eagerly against the glass, trying to get a peek at what his uncle was buying them.

He remembered exactly why Makoto was free this week to join him in this charade.  His own family was on a cruise halfway across the sea that he couldn’t go on because the last project he had been working on couldn’t be rescheduled and had ended two days into his family’s holiday.

The realization that Makoto was alone for the holidays - well and truly alone - and just wanted to spend time around a loving family closed Sousuke’s throat up and he choked back the words on the tip of his tongue.

“Well then, my darling, shall we?”  Sousuke held out his hand and Makoto took it with a smile.

“Let’s,” Makoto replied..

Sousuke took a deep breath and pulled Makoto up the walkway to his aunt’s house.  They were two steps away when the door opened and a shadow filled the doorway, blocking out the warm light.  Makoto stumbled to a stop beside him, slipping a little on the slick walkway.

“Glad to see you finally decided to show up,” Sousuke’s uncle said.  He raised his brows and crossed his arms over his chest disapprovingly.  “Everyone else has been here at least half an hour.”

Sousuke shrugged.  “Got lost,” he said casually.  “Found this charming guy who offered to help me out.”  He tugged Makoto closer to his side.

It was true enough, technically.  Sousuke’s uncle let out a sigh and shook his head.  But there was a smile creeping onto his face.

“Come on in,” he said with a laugh.

—

Sousuke had clearly not thought this through.  Like at all.

It had started out with the usual stupid excuses for never bringing anyone home.  Can’t find anyone I like that much.  Too busy for serious dating.  Blah blah blah.  Then had started the whole cliche thing where he was being set up left and right by well meaning family members.  So he claimed he found someone to date.  It was pretty serious.  Yeah he’d bring them home when he could someday.  Then he had started using his mysterious partner as an excuse to miss silly family events like lunch out with second-cousins he had never met and wedding planning sessions for his aunt.  Somewhere along the line his ‘partner’ became his ‘fiance’ - he blamed Rin for that honestly with his own blabbering about his own fiance - and then suddenly he was promising to bring them home for the holidays.

That wasn’t even the part he didn’t think through.  The part he didn’t think through about practically begging and bribing Makoto to come and play along was the fact that Makoto was going to play along.  He was going to laugh at Sousuke’s dumb jokes and sit next to him on the couch and play Sousuke’s ridiculous family holiday games with him and practically fall asleep with his head on Sousuke’s shoulder and share a pile of blankets on the floor with him and wake up bleary eyed next to him and nuzzle closer while Sousuke’s mother smiled approvingly at them from the doorway.

“You’re adorable together,” his mother said when he joined her in the kitchen.  Making breakfast together was their holiday tradition and he happily let himself be distracted by it.  Maybe then he could forget how nice it had been to wake up next to Makoto.  “Although I am a little confused about why you haven’t brought him around before.”

He shrugged.  “Never really had time off together I suppose.  We’ve both got really busy schedules.”

His mother hummed thoughtfully and handed him the pans he needed.  They made breakfast in companionable silence until she shooed him out to wake up Makoto while she plated up the food.

Makoto was still curled up in the nest of blankets, hair messy and cheeks flush with sleep.  Sousuke almost hated having to wake him up and he let himself have a moment to just watch Makoto sleeping before he squatted down and gently shook him awake.

Makoto’s sleepy smile nearly broke him.

—

“I don’t know why you always said we wouldn’t know him,” his youngest cousin said.  She tugged him down the sidewalk as she talked, trying to catch them up with the rest of the family who had left for the park a few minutes ahead of them.  “He works with you, right?”  She peered up at him with wide brown eyes.  “I remember you used to talk about him a lot when you first started there.”

He slid on a patch of ice at the park entrance and let her laugh and help keep him upright.  He had forgotten that he used to talk about Makoto.

“When you stopped talking about him I thought maybe he transferred away or you two had a fight.  It was really cause you started catching feelings wasn’t it?”

Instead of answering he scooped her up into his arms and threatened to throw her into a nearby snowbank.  Her shrieks and giggles masked the footsteps behind him and it took every ounce of control he had not to drop his cousin on the ground when a handful of snow was shoved into the collar of his jacket.

He carefully set his cousin down, turned slowly on his heel, and met Makoto’s playfully bashful gaze.  Makoto snickered.  Then yelped as Sousuke tackled him into a snowbank.  They rolled around in the snow a little, laughing and trying to shove more snow into each other’s jackets and scarves, until Makoto managed to pin Sousuke and drop his chin onto Sousuke’s chest.

“Is it true,” Makoto asked softly.  “Did you catch feelings for me?”

Sousuke stilled.

“What would you say if I did?”

Makoto tilted his head to the side in thought.  He hummed softly a few times and scrunched up his nose.  It was adorable and, fuck it, Sousuke was a little in love with the expression.

“I would have to say,” Makoto eventually said, “that you kind of did things backwards.  Normally you ask someone to be your boyfriend before you ask them to be your fiance.”

“Well you know me.”  Sousuke laughed.  “Go big or go home and all that.”

“You need to do that more often.”

“Go big or go home?”

Makoto shook his head.  “Laugh.”

Sousuke stared up at Makoto, ignoring the snow melting in his coat, the sound of his family laughing and joking nearby, everything that wasn’t Makoto looking down at him.  Makoto’s cheeks were cold under his fingertips and they managed to turn even pinker when Makoto pressed his cheek against Sousuke’s palm.

Their lips were cold and chapped when they kissed.

“I like you so, so much,” Makoto mumbled against his lips.  “You have no idea.”

“I think I’m starting to,” Sousuke replied.  “And I’m realizing how much I like you too.”

An evil cackle was their only warning before his cousins started launching a barrage of snowballs at them.

“Come on lovebirds,” his mother called out.  “You’ll have plenty of time later for that.”

[looselucy]

November

I walked out of my Thursday lecture with a spring in my step, still incredibly happy that thanks to my schedule, I always had a four day weekend, only actually expected in uni on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. I did have to try not to think about how much I was paying simply to do those 3 days a week, because that would ruin the whole thing.

I pulled my phone out of my bag and rang Zayn straight away, hugging my coat tight around me, the weather as shocking as always, drizzle soaking me through. “Alright!” Zayn beamed down the phone. “You need some booze? I’m going to the shop now, I’ll pick you some up.” “Yes! A bottle of vodka, please.” “No worries. Okay, I’ll see you soon.” “WAIT!” He yelled. “What?” “Guess who I’ve just met?” “Who?” I quizzed. “New boy.” I hadn’t had an interaction with him since the morning / afternoon before, when I first met him. He had stayed locked in his room, not coming out to introduce himself or make any kind of effort with anyone. It was safe to say, I had a bad impression of him from the get go. “Really?” “Yeah. He seemed alright. I invited him to drink with us tonight but I don’t think he’s up for it.” “Maybe he doesn’t drink.” I tried to have his back, for some reason. “Nah I asked him that. Said he does.” I scoffed out loud and rolled my eyes, because to me it just sounded like he couldn’t be arsed making any effort with us, and if that was how he was going to be, I would do the same to him. “Fuck him then.” I replied. “If he doesn’t wanna get involved I’m not gunna put in any effort. He seems like a bit of an arse to me.” “I think he seems sound.” I knew Zayn was just excited to have another lad around. He got on well enough with Mike, but the two of them weren’t really similar. Zayn, even though he was a lads-lad, had ended up developing closer friendships with the girls he lived with. And I think he was excited to have another boy around. “Did you find out his name?” I grinned. “Umm, no. Sorry.” “Oh for fuck sake.” I groaned. “I needed to know beforehand so I could have time to like... think up some snotty comment about it. Something witty. You have been absolutely zero help with my plan, Zayn.” “Sorry, but he like, started asking about my tattoos and we got chatting and I didn’t even think!” God, it was ridiculous how utterly desperate I was just to make some stupid comment about his name, so I could high-five myself and start walking off into the sunset with a massive smile on my face. So I could die happy just knowing I had made fun of his name. But I was never too good at thinking up comebacks on the spot. I needed time to mentally prepare myself and think up something hilarious, so everyone could laugh with me and what’s-his-name could cringe for the rest of his life. Zayn was not helping me. “Woops.” He chuckled. “That’s my new name for you. Zero help Zayn.” “You’re a pain in the arse!” “Right, I’ll be back soon. Whack the kettle on.” I groaned. “Don’t forget my vodka, Pain In The Arse Pippa.” “Fuck off!” I laughed, before swiftly hanging up. + + + Myself and Tally sat expertly doing our makeup on my bedroom floor, using the mirror on the back of my door to prepare ourselves for the evening ahead, hair done and outfits on, almost ready. “Y’know, Zayn is dead keen on having this new chap drink with us tonight.” Tally said. “I finally saw him too. You didn’t say he was so fucking fit Pippa!” “Urgh, I know. I’ve been trying to forget about it.” I nearly rubbed over my eyes, forgetting my fresh mascara. “Seriously. He is nice.” It was easier to dislike him when I could forget how nice he was on my tired, hungover eyes that morning, how it looked like I could have cracked a coconut on his fucking abs. “Hm.” I tried not to think about it. “I think we should ask him to drink with us.” “Why?” “Maybe you just got the wrong impression. Or like... maybe he didn’t mean to take the piss. If we spend the night with him, we can all make a good, solid judgment.” I wanted to disagree with her, but she was totally right. I knew I was being dramatic, but that was me through and through, as much as I’d like to deny it, I had always been a pretty dramatic person. So maybe I had misconstrued what he meant a little. Maybe I heard it wrong, and he wasn’t being as snotty as I first thought. It was probably a good idea to give him a second chance. “Suppose.” I sighed. “Right. Yeah. Let’s go invite him.” “Now?” “Yeah yeah yeah. You ready?” She nodded, and we awkwardly stood up, pulling down our dresses as soon as we were on our feet to make sure our bums remained covered. I wasn’t nervous as we approached his door, thankfully. We had shared a few light vodkas in my room whilst we were getting ready, and I was prepared to be nice to him and make the effort. Tally seemed a little more nervous, definitely the type of person who needed a number of drinks in her to be confident around lads that looked like this one. But I was holding up nicely. I knocked loud and chipper on his door, hearing a few scuttles from inside before he opened the door wide, face low, unenthusiastic, looking between both of us like we were mad for being there. And in that moment, I realised even that my first impression was going to stick. “Hi.” I smiled. “We were wondering if you wanted to come out tonight?” His eyebrows dropped even lower, looking us up and down now, a little stuck for a reply, and clearly uninterested by the idea. “I dunno.” He groaned. “Not sure it’s my scene.” “Well, why don’t you come and find out?” I tried my best not to roll my eyes, but the fact he thought he had a scene made it difficult. Zayn walked out of his room, dressed ready for the night, pushing his long hair out of his eyes, greeting the new boy with a slight raise of his chin, which was returned. And I knew it wouldn’t be me who would be able to convince this guy to make some effort with the people he lived with; to actually introduce himself and not be such an arse. Zayn said he had gotten a good impression of him, so if anyone was going to convince him, it would be Zayn. “C’mon, man.” He began his attempts. “I’ll share my vodka.” He looked as though he really didn’t want to. If it was me who had kept asking him, there was no way in hell he would have said yes. I could tell right off he was one of those lads-lads, but not in the same way Zayn was. He was the type who always wanted beers with the lads, and laughs with the lads, and pulling girls with the lads, and it made me cringe. I was really trying not to snort at the whole idea of the boy in front of me. “Alright, I’ll get ready.” He hesitated. He swiftly shut the door in my face, all three of us feeling the gust form the harsh action, stood a little baffled by the interaction. “Prick.” I mumbled, finally rolling my eyes, feeling the relief off my shoulders, having ached to do it. The three of us wandered into the kitchen, Zayn running to be the first to put his phone in the speakers, sticking his fingers up at us and laughing, pleased with himself. He put on music that, unsurprisingly, me and Tally had never heard, but it was perfect to drink to. Hearing noise, Mike jumped out of his room, one of those people who could smell fun from a mile off. “We drinking? We going out?” His eyes lit up, obviously forgetting we’d already invited him that very afternoon. “Yeah.” I giggled over my shoulder, pouring myself and Tally a drink. “Yes!” He clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Where we going?” “Guess?” Tally smiled, sinking into the sofa. “Thimble?” “Damn right.” Zayn smirked, taking a big swig of his strong drink. We all went and sat down on the settees, fresh drinks in our hands and our bottles down by our sides, ready to top up our beverages once we had emptied our cups, which would probably happen pretty quickly if we played Ring of Fire, like we always bloody did. Zayn had even poured a drink for the newbie. Only a few minutes after his reluctant acceptance of our invite, new boy walked calmly out of his room. He was wearing a black baggy top (thankfully covering that body, and that stupid tattoo) skinny black jeans, and light tan boots. I could see Tally’s mouth drop from beside me. He pulled out a camping chair we had purchased in our first week here, knowing there just wasn’t enough space for everyone, and I quite enjoyed seeing him sat on a pink chair with butterflies on it, and a little drinks holder, seeming more uncomfortable by the second. “Glad you changed your mind, man.” Zayn reached a hand across to him. “What’s your name?” This is it, I thought. This is my moment. The moment of truth. Come on Pippa, be witty. Think of something quick. Get him good. Humiliate him. Make me proud. “Harry.” He replied, voice stupidly low. “Harry what?” I asked, I needed more to work with. “Harry Styles.” I was aggressively tapping my foot, trying to think of something funny to say, something hilarious and something to belittle him… but there was absolutely no way it was happening. It was a perfectly fine name, nothing could come to my mind quickly enough because his name was... a fucking decent name. I could see Zayn staring at me, egging me to say something quickly before it just got weird, but I had to bite my tongue. I had nothing. “Umm, well I’m Zayn. Malik.” “Mike Jones. The girl hiding in her room is called Ringo. Don’t know her last name, don’t even know if that’s her real first name, to be honest, mate.” Harry chuckled to himself, and then turned to Tally, waiting for her to introduce herself. “I’m Tally Jacobs.” She breathed steadily. He then turned to me quickly, an annoying smirk on his face and I knew he was going to say something that would boil my blood. “What’s your name again?” He looked me up and down. “I can’t remember what it was, I just remember it was funny.” “Pippa Payne.” I shot him daggers. “Fucking hell!” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Gutted.” Everyone was awkward. Zayn even cleared his throat, for fuck sake. Mike downed his drink in about two seconds and Tally was just staring at Harry, now understanding why I’d gotten such a bad impression of him. “What the fuck is your problem?” I gawped. “Nowt.” He held is hands up in surrender. “Just... your mum must have been fucked on morphine when she named you that.” “And your mum must have thought of the most typical name she could, for a typical, boring, bog-standard, British twat.” That just made him laugh more, clutching at his stomach, probably liking that he had gotten a rise out of me. “Least there’s not alliteration in my name.” He raised his drink to me proudly, before downing it all. If I could have gotten away with smacking him in the face without everyone there thinking I had completely lost my mind, I genuinely would have done. I hated him. Never before had I come to such a quick conclusion about anyone, but with him my mind was firmly made up. I think a part of it was the fact he was so clearly trying to wind me up. It reminded me of being younger, having an older brother and dad who knew exactly how to piss me off, they were bloody experts and they did it at every given opportunity. Thankfully, over the years they had grown out of picking on me, and I was bloody grateful for it. I hated it. Some lad that had stormed into my life, someone I was going to have to live with, who was clearly getting a kick out of pissing me off as much as he could. I shouldn’t have reacted to him, really. It probably would have put a stop to it right then, but I couldn’t help myself. I topped up my coke with more vodka, feeling his eyes on me and a smirk on his mouth, and he knew from the start I was the perfect target for him. “So, what you studying?” Zayn asked Harry, trying to move the conversation on. “Photography.” He answered. I would have taken the piss out of him, but I probably would have taken photography myself if my parents hadn’t told me it wasn’t worth a degree, that I should stick to something solid like English and just enjoy taking photos on the side. Truth be told I hadn’t bothered to take any since they told me to forget it. “Nice, man. I do art.” Zayn replied. Harry looked next to Mike, obviously wanting to go around the group again, and I suppose I was just surprised he was showing interest in any of us. “Me and Tally do theatre.” Mike told him. “How about you P.P?” He grinned. P.P. Like pee-pee. The guy should have been taking a degree on how to grind on my nerves. He’d pass with flying colours. “English.” I told him glumly. He didn’t say anything snarky, he just curved his lips downwards, shrugged, and raised his eyebrows. Unfazed, uninterested. Everyone did interesting subjects to do with the arts in our flat, other than me. Ringo, unsurprisingly, was doing music. For the first time since I’d moved in, I felt boring, and I knew Harry was thinking that too, but even he wasn’t that rude, to just come right out and say it. The look on his face said it all. “Any-fucking-way,” Mike clapped his hands together. “This conversation is boring as shit. I say we drink and talk about interesting things, like other times we’ve been drunk... And stories about drinks and... anything other than fucking uni, ‘cause I’m definitely not going to my lecture tomorrow.” “Cheers to that!” Harry raised his glass again, in the direction of Zayn and Mike, pretty much ignoring me and Tally. + + + “You’re drunk!” Zayn shouted in my ear. “Am not!” I yelled back. “Yes you are!” He poked my stomach playfully. I tried to pretend that didn’t make me feel like I was going to throw up, but it definitely did, probably because I was as drunk as Zayn had been telling me I was. Why I felt the need to deny it every time, I’ll never know. I was happy to admit the morning after how much of a mess I was, but when it actually came to someone pointing it out to me in the peak of my drunkness, I was all up for pretending I was as sober as a judge. “I’m not! I’ve not even hardly even drank anything. You’re drunk.” I scoffed. “I love you.” He yelled. “I love you more!” We had to yell. It was loud, and we were stood in the middle of the dancefloor declaring our love for one another. I knew me and Tally were always going to be close, we were girly-girls and we worked well together. But me and Zayn had something a little more special. I knew out of everyone, now that Grace had gone, I would be closest with him. “Are you two fucking?” We heard. I turned around, stumbling forward and knocking my forehead into Harry’s chest, before stumbling back, Zayn catching my shoulders to try and keep me steady. “She’s my best fucking mate!” Zayn pointed aggressively. “My best... My best friend.” Harry looked me up and down, and I knew he didn’t expect me to best friends with Zayn. Zayn was all tattoos and long hair and totally, undoubtedly interesting. He just was. I was a pretty typical girl. I got drunk easily, cried a lot, liked wearing dresses and doing my hair and makeup for a night out and giggling about boys with girls. Maybe to look at, we weren’t matched to be best mates, but in other ways, we totally were. We were similar and we connected well. We were best mates. And I knew that. So I stuck my middle finger up at Harry, before he could say anything else. He ignored me, and talked directly to Zayn. “I got the tabs.” “Sound, man! Let’s do it.” Zayn replied eagerly. Harry looked around him for some reason, probably not realising that we were in the grottiest club this town had to offer, and no one would bat an eye at them taking drugs in the middle of the dancefloor. Everyone other than me. It didn’t surprise me that Zayn was into that kind of thing, I think he had mentioned it briefly before, but I certainly hadn’t seen it. Harry handed a small, pink pill over to Zayn. I kept my eyes on the curly haired prick as he stuck his tongue out, and placed a pill on it, staring right back at me as he tucked his tongue back into his mouth, raising his eyebrows as though he had just accomplished something. “You want one, P.P?” “Nope. Not from you.” I scowled. Not that I would have taken drugs from anyone else, it totally wasn’t my thing. I had once taken some kind of MDMA at college and I thought I was the queen of the world, yet woke up remembering very little, in the middle of a puddle down some street near my old home, alone and lost and totally vulnerable. Never to be repeated. The only reason I got through that come-down was because Timmy-Two, my dog, must have sensed that I wasn’t all there, and he stayed sat on my lap all day. “You scared?” He asked me. “No!” I growled. “You are.” “I’m not fucking scared!” “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to call you Pip-Squeak from now on. Suits your personality more. You scared, Pip-Squeak?” “Are you really trying to manipulate me? Like, is this peer pressure? Are we twelve?” He chuckled, before opening his mouth wide, revealing how empty it was to me, like he thought I would be impressed by his idiotic ways. I was sad Zayn was going along with it. Especially drunk. When I was drunk, it was like Zayn was choosing Harry over me. Totally not the case, I realised at a later date, but in that moment Zayn may as well have skipped off hand in hand with Harry, singing ‘make friends make friends never never break friends’’ leaving me in a pool of my own tears, in the middle of Thimble. “ZEE!” We all turned around to where the yell of one of Zayn’s nicknames came from, and my heart fluttered seeing the lad I had met on Monday night in the same place. “LOU-LOU!” Zayn cupped his mouth for dramatic effect. They shared a hug again, and he was all smiles and friendliness and I wished that it was him who had moved in with us, rather than the complete arsehole whose new life aim was to make me furious. Louis turned to me, drunk and fascinating to look at, another boy who somehow had a tan even though we lived in the UK, in the bloody North of the UK. “The Crier.” He addressed me with a smile. “That’s me.” I smiled back, wishing to sober up to impress him. “What?” Harry chortled from beside us. “You get pissy with me for calling you Pip-Squeak, and this kid walks in calling you The Crier and you’re swooning? You two are definitely fucking.” I looked over to Louis, and I was happy to see him looking Harry up and down with a displeased look. He then pointed a finger towards him, and turned to Zayn. “Who the fuck is this?” “Shit.” The effect of whatever Zayn had taken was hitting him fast, but he just seemed drowsy. “This is Harry. Umm. Shit. I forgot your last name, bro.” “Styles.” ”You’re Harry Styles?” Louis gawped. I groaned, thinking I’d done it quietly but it came out extremely loud, because the fact Louis knew his name lead me to believe they’d be fast friends. “Yeah.” Harry looked confused. “You got kicked out of our halls!” Louis beamed. “I heard about what you did! Nice work, man.” “Cheers.” Harry smirked. I was bitterly disappointed as the two lads started shaking hands, and I ignored them as they sparked up a conversation, turning around to face Zayn, who was dancing on his spot with his eyes shut tight. “You’re my best friend!” I slurred, poking his chest. “Mine.” He went to bite my finger, laughing away to himself, and I knew no matter how fucked he was he would never try to bite Harry’s finger, even if he really, really wanted to. He was my best friend. I turned around in time to see Louis reject a pill from Harry, which made me like him all the more. I grabbed hold of his shoulder, hoping it wasn’t a rude way to grab his attention, but I was drunk and it was done. “You want a drink?” I asked, even though it was not a wise idea. “Only if I’m buying.” He smirked at me. I was almost sure he’d just flirted with me. But he couldn’t have done. He was just being nice. A nice boy with a nice face. I was fucked. “Yeah. Um. Okay.” I spluttered. I guess that did sober me up a bit. Any attention I ever got from boys, if any, went unnoticed unless a boy automatically grabbed my attention. I’d never been the type to settle for any boy on a night out. But most boys that caught my eye, I failed to catch theirs. I had a slight inkling in that moment that maybe, I had caught Louis’ eye. And that terrified me. He ticked his head towards the bar, revealing a devilish grin to me. Honestly, I don’t really remember anything after that drink. + + + I had made it to my bed. That was the first thing I thought when I woke up the morning after. Grateful, so, so grateful, that I was in my bed. Even if it was a rubbish, rock hard, single bed. At least it was a bed, and I was in it. I then realised what had made me wake up, after a second set of knocks went off against my bedroom door. “Come in!” My voice failed me. “I can’t it’s locked.” I heard Zayn on the other side. “Don’t make me get out of bed!” “Come on. I need to go to my lecture in like five minutes!” He knocked again. “I can’t move. I want to, honestly. My day would be off to a flying start seeing your face Zayn-” “You’re a sarcastic little shit.” He huffed. “- but that involves moving. Something that I am not capable of right now.” I could hear him mumbling that he hated me over and over again, possibly lightly banging his forehead against the door. I smiled to myself, enjoying the reaction I was getting from him. “Fine.” He eventually huffed. “I guess we won’t discuss the fact you kissed Louis last night.” I practically fell out of bed, before running over to the door, nearly colliding head first with it before I twisted the lock and swung the door open, seeing that stupid grin on his face because he knew that was going to work. “I did what now?” I gawped. “I knew you wouldn’t remember.” “Did I really?” “Yeah.” “Holy. Shit.” I had kissed Louis. I was the Queen of the world knowing that. I didn’t remember it. It was probably awful and based on vodka rather than attraction but I just thought I was the greatest person in the world. My hangover was practically cured. “You were a mess.” Zayn chortled. “You’re one to talk, Mr Drugs.” “I don’t turn down free drugs, Pip. This is something you should learn about me.” It had shocked me how common drugs were as soon as I went to uni, how common it was for people to be using them and for it to be this completely casual thing, rather than a big deal like it had been only a few, short, innocent years before. They were everywhere. And everyone took them. “I’m well proud of myself.” I leaned against the doorframe. “Do you remember what you said to Harry?” He asked me next. “What? No! Why? Shit! What did I say?” I knew it was going to be bad, something I should have kept to myself, because I didn’t have a positive word to say about him. “I dunno.” Zayn now hushed his tone. “Something along the lines of being an arrogant prick, to stay away from you. And you were all like, you’re not my type of person and I’m not yours so lets keep it at that.” I cringed. I meant every word but that didn’t mean they needed to be said. It made me just as bad as him, if not worse. “That’ll be nice and awkward.” I cursed myself. “You’re telling me, mate!” He puffed. “Right. I’ve gotta go. It’s just a drawing session, so I’ll only be a couple of hours then I’m gunna cook for everyone.” “You’re my favourite.” I pinched his cheek. “Fuck off!” He swatted my hand away. “Reyt, I’ll see you in a bit.” “Would you-” “Yes. I’ll ask Louis about it. And let him know you’re amazing, blah blah.” “Love you.” I cooed. He rolled his eyes and flipped me off over his shoulder as he let himself out of the flat, always choosing to bob down the stairs rather than take the lift, something I would never understand. Almost on cue, I heard a lock, that was uncomfortably close, unlocking. Harry let himself out of the room next to mine, his room, eyed me up and down once, before walking up to the kitchen, shouting over his shoulder just to bring my hangover back, and to make me like him even less. “You look like shit, Pip-Squeak.”

[daebakinc]

Bitter, Then Sweet

Sometimes there doesn’t need to be a reason to spoil people you love. Sometimes it’s more fun to surprise them just because. This morning you woke up with just such a desire. That’s why you’re in the kitchen early on a Sunday, already returned from a quick grocery run.

Ingredients and trays and molds and bowls neatly line the counter. Your book of recipes is open and securely propped on the windowsill in between cheery sprouts in terracotta pots, the beginnings of your indoor herb garden you started with Kyungsoo. You know the recipe and method of chocolate making by heart, but you always double check the page with its small and sometimes not so small notes on the process. Chocolate making is something you are well known for among your friends, gifting them for birthdays or special events. Or, in cases like these, not so special, but they’re always made with the same amount of love and care. That’s something you can never give Kyungsoo and his friends enough of.

Even though EXO is between albums, the boys are still working their tails off for the next one on top of individual commitments. They do enjoy most of their packed agendas, but if the fatigue in Kyungsoo’s smile when he returns home to you and how often he passes out the instant his butt hits the couch is any hint, they need a pick-me-up. What better way to do that than with a surprise sugar rush.

As you check the temperature of the bowl of melting chocolate on the stove-top, you hear your door swing open and hit the wall. Without looking away from the chocolate, you call, “Kyungsoo?”

Your boyfriend’s chuckle is rich as the sweet you’re stirring. “Were you expecting someone else?” He steps into the kitchen with a paper bag and two coffee cups in hand.

Looking at him sends a little thrill through your spine. With the glamour of makeup absent from his face, Kyungsoo almost looks like an ordinary man who may have an unhealthy obsession with black clothes. Almost. Because, makeup or no, he’s still the most stunningly handsome man ever to grace your eyes. Plus, no makeup means no more public schedule for the day. That in turns means he could possibly be yours for the rest of the day.

“No schedule?” you ask to be sure. You mentally cross your fingers.

Kyungsoo grins. “None. I persuaded Jongin to switch places with me for the photoshoot so I finished first. I already fulfilled my vocal practice hours as well so,” he lifts the bag, “I got us breakfast.”

“My perfect man,” you giggle, eyeing the bag curiously.

“I honestly thought you’d still be asleep,” he says. He looks around the kitchen, noting the layout. “You’ve been industrious. Whose birthday is it?”

“No one’s. I just thought you and the other guys could use a treat with how hard you’ve been working.” Lifting the bowl, you carefully settle it in a bowl of water to cool a little before you use it. “Not that you don’t always work hard, but you seem to need a little extra something.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen before they shrink as his mouth spreads in a wide grin. He presses a light kiss against your cheek as he sets your coffee beside you. “That’s very sweet of you, love.”

You turn your head, shamelessly begging for a real kiss with your eyes. Kyungsoo readily obliges within a heartbeat. He tastes like smooth coffee and mint chap-stick. His hand drifts down to your back. The playfulness of his fingers twisting in your apron strings contrasts the serenity of his kiss. Smooth and savoring, your lips sink into each others like taking a long draught of water.

Kyungsoo pulls away, his hand sliding around your waist. He looks at you with affection. “You look very cute in an apron.”

His compliments are always straightforward, but they still make you glow. “You’ve said that before,” you reply with a coy smile.

“Because it’s true. Here, try this.” He drags the paper bag he brought closer with one hand so his other doesn’t have to release you. Pulling out a rotund, golden pastry with flaky layers, he holds it up to your mouth, careful to angle it so no crumbs get in the chocolate.

You bite down, buttery pastry mixing with a bittersweet filling. You moan and lick your lips. “Pain au chocolat. God, that’s good.”

“It’s from the bakery that opened two blocks down. They had a display of these in the window and it made me think of you. Though if I’d known you were making chocolate, I would have gotten some lemon mulberry scones they had.”

“Are you trying to say I sample my work too much?” You glare at him before bursting into laughter when he snorts. “Okay, maybe I do, but my esophagus could be coated in chocolate and I could still eat more.”

Kyungsoo laughs and lets you go to pull over a stool to sit on. He takes his own pain au chocolat out of the bag and takes a generous mouthful. You watch him close his eyes in bliss and let everything melt together on his tongue. “We should make these one weekend.”

“I’ll probably have some chocolate left over if you want to try tonight or in the morning so you can take some back with you.”

“As if I could bring anything back without the wolves sniffing it out,” he snorts. “Did you know Sehun ate the rest of the cookies we made last week? I had almost dozen left when I stuck them on top of the fridge.”

You laugh. “You can’t really blame the puppy when you put it right on eye level for tall people. I’m kind of surprised Jongin or Chanyeol didn’t snack on them first.”

“They learned to ask,” he replies, a satisfied, impish look in his eyes. You don’t ask.

“Now, love, you can’t hog me and my sweets all to yourself.” You kiss his temple as you lean across the counter for the candy thermometer. “We can make two batches: one for us and one for them.”

He hums noncommittally and goes back to nibbling his breakfast. You can tell he’s still not quite happy about sharing food you made for him, but everyone has their moments of selfishness. Besides, he makes plenty of food for them; it’s understandable to want them to respect what’s his. Taking another quick bite of your pastry, you remove the chocolate from the water

“So who’s getting what?” Kyungsoo asks when you reach for one of the smaller bowls of fillings and pick up a knife.

“Coffee beans for Minseok, strawberry for Chanyeol, caramel for Jongdae, toffee for Jongin, peanut butter for Baekhyun, almonds for Junmyeon, coconut for Sehun, and… cherry for Yixing.” You plop a cherry in half of the hollow chocolate, cover it with another, and seal the chocolate shut with a careful swipe of melted chocolate around the seam.

“What about me?”

You glance over at him, squinting your eyes in observation. “I’m still debating on yours. I’m thinking maybe dark chocolate with milk or white chocolate center.” You turn back to your work. “A dozen each should be enough, don’t you think? I don’t want you all getting in trouble with your managers for eating too many sweets.”

“I suppose.”

You eye him out of the corner of your sight, confused by his suddenly flat tone. Kyungsoo is still chewing away with no sign of distress on his face except a far away look in his eyes. Shrugging, you continue filling and sealing the chocolates. Spaces of time without words being exchanged certainly isn’t an abnormal thing, especially when either of you gets lost in thought.

Kyungsoo’s probably thinking of the new script he mentioned receiving the day before. He thinks about work too much sometimes, but his dedication is something you love about him. So, you leave him in peace. When you notice Kyungsoo sneaking a few caramels from the bowl, you smile, reassured everything is alright. If his appetite was off, then you’d know there was trouble ahead.

You wait to deliver the treats until their schedules line up so they’re all at the dance studio together. Strangely, it took you a few days to pry the day and time out of Kyungsoo. You had almost texted Jongin instead when your boyfriend apparently forgot how to answer his phone. He had mentioned their schedule was jam packed, but he was usually very good about replying to you when you didn’t see each other for days. The abnormality has you a bit worried, but you don’t want to bother him so you hold in questioning him about his turn for the taciturn until you can see him face to face.

Yixing notices you standing quietly outside the door with cloth bag in hand. He smiles and beckons you in. The others cheer happily at the sight of you, at least partly because they know you always come bearing gifts of some kind of food. Kyungsoo hangs towards the back of the group that surrounds you, only giving you a small smile that doesn’t quite fill his gaze. His eyes sweep back and forth among his friends with a mix of emotions you don’t recognize.

“What’d you bring us?” Baekhyun asks.

“You’re supposed to say ‘hello’ when someone comes to see you,” Junmyeon reminds him lightly, rolling his eyes.

You smile and wave your hand. “It’s alright, Junmyeon.”

“Chocolate!” Jongdae screams, having glimpsed the boxes with their names tidily labeled. “She made us her chocolates!”

Excited thanks roll off their tongues as you pass out the treats. A content quiet of chewing and murmured comparisons replaces it as the men all dig in. When you come to the bottom of the bag, you look for Kyungsoo. He’s sitting on the couch to the side, arms folded and eyes fixed on the floor.

You cross over to him, pull out the last box, and drop the bag by his feet. “Saved the best for last,” you say quietly, and slide it onto his legs.

His hands automatically cup the sides as it takes up most of his lap. “This- this is mine?” Kyungsoo glances at the others’ boxes, noting they’re only half the size of his.

“It does have your name on it,” you point out. You sit down beside him and lift the box’s top.

Inside sits your masterpiece. A large heart with white chocolate drizzle crisscrossing its surface. Kyungsoo keeps staring down at it, not saying a word.

“Soo?” You giggle nervously. “You know you’re supposed to eat it? Not just look at it.” When he remains motionless, you break off the heart’s tip and hold it to his lips for him.

He opens his mouth just enough for you to slip it in. You watch closely as he chews slowly. A smile blooms on his face when Kyungsoo finally swallows. “It’s really good. What’s the filling?” He carefully breaks off another piece to eat.

“My take on canoli filling. Kyungsoo,” you lower your voice, “are you okay?”

He waits until he finishes the chocolate to answer. “Yes. I’m sorry. I know I’ve been weird lately.” He sighs and gives a little wry laugh, looking away from you. “I- I was just a bit jealous.”

“You? Jealous of what?”

“Well, that you were making treats for all them instead of just for me.” Kyungsoo swings his eyes back to you with a sheepish expression. “It’s stupid, but sometimes I want to be the only one you spoil.”

You can’t help laughing in relief. Who would have thought you could make Do Kyungsoo jealous. At least it was an easy fix. You tap his nose with your finger. “Kyungsoo, if you want more attention, just ask for it. I will make you as many personal chocolates or whatever else as your big heart desires. Consider me your personal chef.”

“You are so much more than that. So much.” He presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “Thank you for the heart. I love it.”

“And I love you.” You return his peck with one of your own. “You’re the only one who gets to here me say that.”

“God, get a room!” Sehun’s teasing call and Jongin’s resulting cackle make you both jump and realize everyone is looking at you with silly grins. Matching blushes paint your cheeks as they laugh.

Chanyeol starts clapping his hands and chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“Not in front of you guys,” Kyungsoo retorts, throwing a pretend punch Chanyeol’s way. The giant flinches even though there’s no way Kyungsoo’s fist could reach him.

“I can always kiss her if you don’t want to,” Jongdae teases.

“No way, man. I called dibs ages ago if the chance came up,” Baekhyun scoffs, sliding onto the couch beside you. He closes his eyes and puckers his lips, leaning closer. Instead of your lips, Baekhyun finds part of Kyungsoo’s chocolate shoved in his mouth.

Joining in with the others’ laughter as Baekhyun splutters turn into appreciative lip smacking, you move closer to Kyungsoo. “So you know, I made you another and left it at home in case they somehow eat all of this one,” you whisper in his ear.

Kyungsoo’s lips twitch in a smile that he schools to calm in an instant. “Bless you. You know them too well.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “And you. You’re a big push over when it comes to th-” Mouth suddenly full of chocolate, you give Kyungsoo an accusatory look.

“Let me live in the ignorance that I’m the only one that knows that.”

[actfact2-blog]

Adrenal Fatigue 101: Symptoms, Testing, Diet, and Supplements to Support Adrenal Burn-Out Recovery

People joke that you can catch adrenal fatigue just as easily as a head cold in New York City.

Especially if you’re a woman during the holiday season, juggling family obligations, end of year office grunt work, and a finely calibrated hormonal motherboard. So yeah, that’s everyone right?

In reality, adrenal fatigue is not something you catch, but rather a slow unraveling.

These little glands are in the endocrine chain of command (along with your thyroid), and are in charge of regulating the body’s stress response through adrenaline and cortisol, our chief fight or flight hormones.

If you’re a member of the HashiPosse or your thyroid is out of commission, the adrenals have to work extra hard to generate energy for the body. It’s the actual scenario of “running on fumes.” Without proper thyroid hormones to keep the wheels moving, you might be barreling full speed ahead on adrenaline and cortisol alone.

Unfortunately, like any well-oiled, but overused machine, your adrenals can only hang in there for so long without a break. Adrenal fatigue is what happens when you’ve used up all your cortisol reserves due to constant daily stress, another hormone imbalance (like hypothyroidism), or often, both.

I’ve struggled with adrenal fatigue symptoms on and off for the last decade, but it wasn’t until this past spring that I actually took a test. Since then, I’ve been meaning to write this deep dive on the best natural treatments, supplements and lifestyle strategies we can use to support our adrenals and give them a much needed recharge.

Below I get into what adrenal fatigue testing looks like, whether or not it’s actually worth knowing for sure, common symptoms, and ideas for recovery. Some include the usual de-stressing activities—tubbing, meditating, skipping your 3rd ugly sweater party. Things we should be more equipped to do in cold, cozy January. But I’ve also given some more specific tips that I use in my course 4 Weeks to Wellness for getting people back on track.

If you’re looking for a helping hand to implement any of these habits, it’s not too late to join my new year’s session, which starts January 14th. If you sign up before the 3rd, you’ll even get early bird pricing. Click here for more info.

In the meantime, read on for more on adrenal fatigue (how it differs from adrenal insufficiency) and how to recover from it.

With health and hedonism,

Phoebe

HOW TO TEST FOR ADRENAL FATIGUE

There’s much debate in the medical community about whether adrenal fatigue is an actual syndrome. The full-blown expression is Addison’s disease, also known as adrenal insufficiency, and you can test for it using the ACTH Stimulation Test, where cortisol levels are checked in the blood before and after a synthetic hormone (ACTH) is given by injection.

Adrenal fatigue, on the other hand, can be tested for using an at-home saliva test, which is more convenient, but not always covered by insurance. The feeling that testing for adrenal fatigue is unnecessary has also been seconded by plenty of holistic practitioners, since the reality of the matter, as I joked earlier, is that there are so many women who could benefit from more adrenal support.

For what it’s worth, I took the Labrix at-home saliva test for Adrenal Hormone Function. It involves spitting into a tube upon waking, shortly after waking, noon, evening and night. Your cortisol levels have a natural rise and drop throughout the day, so mapping the pattern via saliva is a more convenient way than via one blood test, since the levels can fluctuate quite a bit depending on when the blood is drawn.

The Adrenal Stress Index (ASI) test is another option that’s recommended by Dr. Jolene Brighten, one of my go-to’s for anything hormone health related.

WHAT ARE THE SYMPTOMS OF ADRENAL FATIGUE?

First, let’s talk about what proper adrenal function looks like so you can better spot disfunction.

Ideally, your cortisol levels are highest in the morning, around 8am. Think of it as the body’s natural caffeine, helping us stay tuned in during the day. It gradually tapers off through the afternoon and evening, and hits its lowest point at 3am, since you need very little motivation while sleeping.

Things can go haywire in a variety of different ways. If you find yourself waking up in the middle of the night, it’s a sign that your cortisol might be spiking too early. More commonly, what leads to adrenal fatigue is ongoing high levels of cortisol during the day, thanks to too much coffee, stressful work schedules, disrupted sleep, and general anxiety.

You might be one of those high-functioning stress cases that feed off of the energy of cortisol. But when levels stay elevated, that’s a recipe for burnout.

When someone has adrenal fatigue, their tests will indicate that cortisol has flat-lined. You might still be following the right pattern throughout the day, but it’s far below the normal levels of production. This is adrenal fatigue at its core.

You’ll find many lists out there for adrenal fatigue symptoms, but I’m going to unpack some of the most common ones for you one by one so you can understand how these issues are interconnected and relate to your fluctuating hormone levels.

Exhaustion and fatigue: If you feel yourself dragging throughout the day, even after plenty of sleep, or dozing off during meetings, that’s an indication that your cortisol levels have been exhausted, and your whole body feels it. If you’ve ever pulled all-nighters to get through exams, then gotten home and slept for 5 days straight (and potentially also come down with the flu) this is low grade adrenal fatigue. In the real world, our exams don’t come along once a quarter, and it’s when a finals week situation turns into a full month of added stress and bad habits, that things can really go awry for your adrenals.

Weight gain: A very common symptom of adrenal fatigue, especially for women, is packing on pounds around your waistline. I’ll often hear this complaint from people in my program: “I’m working out constantly and eating the healthiest diet ever, and I can’t seem to lose a pound.” This really comes down to hormones. When your cortisol is spiking constantly (and this, by the way, can also happen from high intensity exercise) it indicates to your body that you’re in a life or death situation. Back in the bush, that meant food resources might be scarce for a while, so your body converts all the excess energy it can into fat for the “long winter” to come. Counterintuitively, skipping that high intensity workout might be a better course of action to lose weight if your adrenals are fatigued.

Disturbed sleep and waking up in the middle of the night: I already mentioned how cortisol patterns being off might cause a 3am wake-up. But it can also happen from unstable blood sugar. Which, of course, is usually one of the culprits of any hormonal imbalance. When your blood sugar is on the fritz, it might cause you to be hungry all the time, even an hour after a meal. You crave sugar and simple carbs, even though those things deregulate your blood sugar even further. A 3am wakeup is your body crying out for energy, and one way to fix it is to drink something high in fat before bed that can nourish you overnight. Mix some coconut oil into your nighttime tea, or drink a golden milk latte with coconut milk. Like high intensity exercise, it can also be counterintuitive for weight loss, but restricting calories or intermittent fasting will only make your body more stressed about its reserves and want to hold onto them.

Dehydration and dry skin: I talk about this one a bit in the water chapter of The Wellness Project book. Since the adrenals sit just above your kidneys, their other main function is to control your water levels. The more stress you have, the more hormones and salt they send out to circulate in the body. When your stress levels fall, all that sodium needs to be evacuated. Just think of a nervous puppy that has to pee all the time. That’s the stressed-out you, constantly flushing fluids, along with sodium, down the toilet. People with adrenal fatigue can drink their full daily water quota and still be dehydrated. If your lips are perpetually chapped and your skin is dry, yet you’re drinking plenty of water, it might be an indication that some electrolyte supplements are needed.

Digestive issues: You may remember from middle school science class that our nervous system has two modes: sympathetic and parasympathetic. The first is fight or flight, the second rest and digest. Needless to say, when we aren’t spending enough time in the latter, it can affect our stomach and gut. Elevated levels of cortisol can reduce levels of good bacteria in the gut, leading to more digestive issues down the line, even once cortisol reserves are depleted.

Anxiety and depression: Feeling on edge is a natural byproduct of too much cortisol, and the downstream effect of having too little can lead to depression. Also, given the powerful studies linking a damaged microbiome to depression and mood disorders, it’s no wonder why after periods of intense stress and adrenal burn out we might feel symptoms of depression.

Here are some other common indications of adrenal fatigue:

• Body aches and soreness • Dragging ass out of bed in the morning • Blood sugar imbalance / sugar cravings throughout the day • Getting sick all the time • Breakouts and acne • Low libido (see depression above) • Brain fog and memory loss • Poor circulation and dizziness • Irritability and mood swings • Hunger shortly after eating • Feeling at the end of your rope / snappish / about to crack

ADRENAL FATIGUE SUPPLEMENTS THAT SUPPORT RECOVERY

B Vitamin Complex: Tends to be deficient in people with adrenal fatigue (and Hashimoto’s for that matter!)

Liquid B12: If you can do at-home injections, even better for absorption.

Adaptogens: Those commonly used to support adrenals are ashwagandha, ginseng, holy basil, and rhodiola. Careful with blends, however, as not every adaptogen is for everyone.

Magnesium: Use a magnesium spray or a good old Epsom salt bath. I love the supplement magnesium calm. This will also help with hydration.

Electrolytes: Coconut water has natural electrolytes, but if you’re trying to balance your blood sugar at the same time, it might not be ideal. Something like this that’s sugar-free and can be added in drops to your morning water would be great.

Vitamin C: Helps with absorption of other vitamins and minerals, plus hydration.

THE BEST NATURAL TREATMENTS AND STRATEGIES FOR ADRENAL FATIGUE

If developing adrenal fatigue is a slow unraveling, you have to think of recovery as a long, steady climb back up Health Moutain. You know I already think of everything this way, but with healing your adrenals it is especially true. The process could take up to a year. It’s a marathon not a sprint.

That said, you don’t have to be perfect every day. You can, however, live every day with your adrenals in the back of your mind. For me, that has meant staying in more than I go out, setting myself up for success with my work expectations (which, as a self-employed blog lady means that the high bar usually comes from ME), and reducing caffeine to only when necessary.

In general, the themes are pretty obvious: rest as much as you can, reduce stress, eat an anti-inflammatory diet that doesn’t put added stress on the body, choose gentle movements, hydrate, sleep. You know, The Wellness Project. (Wink)

Here are some of my favorite healthy hedonist tips for adrenal fatigue:

Regulate Your Blood Sugar with a Vice Detox: If you’ve read The Wellness Project, you know that 30 days without caffeine, alcohol and sugar was as painful as it was beneficial. Part of getting your blood sugar and hormones back on track is giving your liver a boost so it can eliminate all the excess. My favorite way to do this is to get out of my own way. If this sounds miserable but you want to give it a try, we do a mini vice detox in my 4 Weeks to Wellness program and I have a ton of tips to make it easier. These 3 vices also are stimulants that increase cortisol and stress in the body, so it’s important to find moderation on going forward.

Eat Consistent Meals with Fat and Protein in the Morning: Going completely carb-free or intermittent fasting—two big trends right now—is probably not right for you if you have adrenal fatigue and your blood sugar is all over the map. A work around is to get a lot of healthy fats into your meals to make you feel full for longer, and to make sure to start and end the day with a good dose of them. If there’s any meal to go carb-free, it’s in the morning. This is called “carb cycling.” One study showed that people with cortisol issues were able to reprogram their curves by eating low-carb breakfasts, moderate amounts in the afternoon, and higher amounts of healthy carbs in the evening. See below for what that means.

Choose Complex Carbs: People are always talking about how you should eat “whole foods, ” but whole wheat bread does not a whole food make. The less processed an ingredient is, the better. Pasta made from brown rice flour is healthier than bleached white flour, yes, but eating a bowl of whole brown rice is far better. In general, whole foods—meaning literally whole foods cut into pieces and not pulverized by an industrial grinder—keep your blood sugar down and your gut bacteria happy, while simple carbs, though easy to digest, cause more long-term inflammation. Stick with brown rice, quinoa and sweet potatoes.

Add a pinch of sea salt: Salt has gotten a bad rap in the age of processed foods, despite the fact that it’s an essential nutrient. Salt is in the makeup of virtually all our bodily fluids, which means we’re constantly losing it in the form of sweat, urine, and tears. I recommend pink Himalayan sea salt because it’s less processed and thus retains important minerals that also aid in absorption and support electrolyte balance. I try to add a pinch of it to my morning lemon water or smoothie.

Make bone broth the new coconut water: Bone broth is literally so hot right now. If you want to maximize absorption, this is a much better option than sugar-packed coconut water. As the bones simmer for hours, they release amino acids, collagen and nutrients that help your body make the most of the liquid you put in it. It turns out that homemade chicken soup is just as good for your immune system as it is for the soul. And that’s especially important when you’re healing adrenal fatigue and your body might not be able to fight off pathogens as readily. It’s also a salve for your gut.

Don’t Do High-Intensity Workouts at Night (or At All): When you have adrenal fatigue, gentle and slow is better than fast and loose. Think pilates, yin yoga, walking, biking outside, or anything leisurely in nature. Cardio kickboxing is probably off the table, but especially at night when it can create an artificial cortisol spike and disrupt your sleep patterns. Cortisol and melatonin work in tandem, and the former needs to drop, for your chief sleep hormone to take over.

Get 8+ Hours of Non-Disrupted Sleep: Yes, that’s easier said than done. If you’re doing everything right from a lifestyle perspective—not drinking caffeine after noon, keeping your blood sugar stable, getting gentle exercise in the morning, keeping a consistent wake-up time, avoiding blue light before bed—you might want to explore these natural sleep aids to get the ball rolling.

Take a bath before bed: A drop in body temperature is a key prelude to sleep. If your internal thermostat is off, one way to hack it is to take a twenty-minute bath or shower. Though it’s counterintuitive that a hot tub will cool your body temperature, the sharp rise brought on by the warm water will be followed by a sharp fall once you’re out. Adding some relaxing lavender bath salts and sipping some ginger tea while in there is a sleep prep triple threat (in a good way). Plus, all these things are also great for de-stressing.

Choose a sacred night to refuel: I know that picking and choosing social plans so I can get eight hours of sleep will make me a better friend to others and myself. It’s not just alcohol or sugar or gluten, but the hustle and bustle of a night on the town that can overwhelm a sensitive system recovering from adrenal fatigue. I try to say yes to adventures that feed my spirit, not obligations that feel like drudgery. And a few nights a week—Sunday and Monday work well—I keep the schedule clear to have some downtime and catch up on sleep.

Have any more questions about adrenal fatigue recovery? Please leave them in the comments. 

Need more help refining your habits around diet, sleep, detox, movement and more? Let’s work together to create your path forward. My 4 Weeks to Wellness Course might just change your life. With 4-weeks worth of elimination diet-friendly recipes that are gluten, dairy, corn, soy and refined sugar free, not to mention tasty AF, it’s a perfect way to explore your food sensitivities and heal inner and outer chaos. Plus, one of the weeks is completely dedicated to overhauling your sleep hygiene, stress management and morning routine! Beyond natural remedies, I’ll help you set up all the rituals you need for a good nights sleep and recharged adrenals for the long haul.

FIND OUT MORE HERE 

Source: https://feedmephoebe.com/adrenal-fatigue-101-symptoms-testing-diet-and-supplements-to-support-adrenal-burn-out-recovery/

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The best Side of honey face mask

Those with dry pores and skin really should use this mainly because it is made up of astounding substances that recover and nourish dehydrated skin. Blackheads tend to be a result of oily skin, working with rich and major cosmetics with your face, or failure to cleanse your face and pores and skin thoroughly. This coffee face mask is perfect for the sensitive skin. Oat assists in lowering skin discomfort. Furthermore, it assists in exfoliation. Honey moisturizes and nourishes the skin and lessens blemishes. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/722616702689410044/ and gather the egg white while in the bowl underneath and put the yolk in One more bowl for foreseeable future use. In accordance with the BBC, a person via the identify of Sam Edwards from Wrexham, Wales credited honey with conserving his leg! Soon after remaining cut by a koi carp, he became infected with Mycobacterium marinum and designed a unusual pores and skin ailment. my Close friend and i want to Have a very stress-free facial mask afternoon any strategies of which just one is best with in another twenty mins Masks need to keep on for 10-quarter-hour. I love washing masks off by using a steaming very hot washcloth. I run a washcloth beneath sizzling water, squeeze out the excess h2o then push to my face for a complete moment. I then Carefully clean off the mask in a very circular motion. Washcloths are brilliant for exfoliating. https://en.search.wordpress.com/?src=organic&q=facial+mask can often be annoying if the skin is absolutely delicate, so you may want to do a patch test within the back again within your hand first. Awesome piece. Very good for getting again to basics and out in the chemical laden cosmetics. I will be seeking honey tonight. Lemon juice is really a normal astringent and likewise helps fade acne scars and dim spots. The alpha hydroxyl acids in strawberries allows Regulate oil generation to the skin surface, trying to keep pimples and blackheads absent. One more great study! Here is Yet another excellent idea for honey: it really works good on pink eye and staph infections! I'd pink eye a number of occasions, about four several years back when my oldest son was in daycare. Not one of the prescribed eye drops appeared to be supporting, but black tea and honey did the trick! Also, I had a staph an infection and Yet again, the antibiotics were not undertaking Considerably to very clear it up. This service enables you to join or affiliate a Google AdSense account with HubPages, to be able to receive income from ads with your articles. No data is shared Until you have interaction with this element. ( little herbs youtube channel ) will not give health care assistance, prognosis, or remedy. Any information and facts released on this Site or by this manufacturer is not intended in its place for healthcare advice, and you shouldn't choose any action ahead of consulting using a Health care Expert. In Females of shade, skin may look ashy or uninteresting from lifeless skin buildup. homemade face mask , coupled with common exfoliation and day by day usage of moisturizers must soothe dry, chapped skin.

Not known Facts About diy face mask

Mix 1 tablespoon of immediate coffee powder and plenty of freshly squeezed lemon juice to produce a thick paste. Facts: Honey has antimicrobial Qualities and antioxidants which are beneficially sticky. This stickiness pulls away the dust, dead pores and skin, and microbes through the pores while the antimicrobial Homes retain the pores and skin from getting infected all over again. As you switch up your individual care schedule in planning to the hotter months just around the corner, don’t neglect to pamper that attractive Component of you that greets the world Each individual and each day: your face. Continue reading for seven easy face masks that you could make in your house. Detailed underneath are a few of the greatest DIY coffee face masks which you could make in your house working with coffee and various widespread home ingredients. Consider them on to help make your skin look a lot more attractive and radiant. What does every single Lady, just about every lady and in some cases each and every male aspire to own? https://www.pinterest.com/pin/722616702689548155 to die for could well be in the right realm!Females and Adult men alike drive a pi... But when I took it off, my skin felt nuts soft, and I didn’t even will need to use moisturizer that night, although I did drop by mattress craving a strawberry smoothie.” To via stepto remedies to read the full post Should you have oily pores and skin, press a paper napkin towards your forehead. If you pull it away, it ought to be soaked in oils. Permit’s explore https://www.wikihow.com/Make-All-Natural-Face-Masks in raw honey for its nourishing benefits to pores and skin! Underneath, understand a few diverse face masks you could Check out on your own in the home, Just about every with a unique profit. Struggling from dry or aging pores and skin? little herbs youtube channel is sure to plump up and moisturize the skin cells and leave you seeking fresher and young than ever just before. Those with dry skin ought to use this since it includes remarkable elements that heal and nourish dehydrated pores and skin. Distribute it evenly on the face and neck and unwind for twenty minutes. Carefully rub the combination whilst washing it off with h2o. This allows in eradicating the lifeless pores and skin and brightens the complexion. All of us use a lot of facial creams and treatment plans, to maintain our skin gorgeous. Unfortunately, mainly because of the existence of substances All those are certainly not deserving and helpful. mask need to be utilized on clean skin with the face and hold for 20 minutes, then rinse less than functioning water. All I had was fruit on The underside greek yogurt so I wanted to try it before expending four$ over a 16oz container. Is that this a big trouble???

5 Simple Statements About orange face mask Explained

When you've got too much paleness or redness from the skin of one's face: yeast face mask tones and provides to skin a good looking matte or pearly shade that may delight anyone. Blogger Stephanie Sterjovski is sharing a home made face mask that may depart your skin experience contemporary, clear, and moisturized. Lemons are crammed with AHA’s and BHA’s which get rid of useless skin cells and assistance crystal clear up blackheads, acne, and discoloration, though honey is usually a organic antioxidant and antibacterial. Full of vitamin C, orange peel is perfect for lightening dark spots and acne scars. Evens out pores and skin discolorations This tends to smell a great deal like, nicely, yeast. In https://www.facebook.com/steptoremedies/posts/2090901291003140 dries Incredibly rigid and you'll have a tougher time shifting your face than with a regular eco-friendly mask. Immediately after It truly is rigid, you can wash it off with heat drinking water. Just Permit the water soak up on it for the next in advance of squinting your eyes as well really hard or producing your 'face washing face' or perhaps the dried sections will pull on your skin. Like a total RB face. face mask for dry skin will work effectively for getting it pre-moistened. But following that it arrives off pretty quickly. I constantly feel very clean immediately after this mask and my skin feels really comfortable and appears great. Thanks in your report. I similar to the way. You described the honey mask Guidance. Your mask is simple to generate. I am gonna test it in my upcoming spa therapy. I love it. Mister healmunsta. Egg White Face Masks—Egg whites are known for their ability to tone substantial pores and decrease excessive sebum, earning them perfect for individuals with The natural way oily pores and skin. Great for mix pores and skin mask in shape of milk: Split the yeast into various compact items and place it in heat milk, it truly is in almost any scenario really should not be sizzling, otherwise the mushroom will die; All information is presented on an as-is foundation. The data, points or viewpoints appearing from the article usually do not replicate the sights of NDTV and NDTV won't believe any responsibility or legal responsibility for the same. In brief, you do not need to use brand new coffee beans. This can be a terrific way to reuse, recycle and possess a more sustainable coffee routine. Should you ask us, Those people are a lot more than enough superior reasons to work inside a face mask once a week. But as we touched on over, some keep-acquired face masks might be lousy for your skin because of the substances along with the aggressive adhesive they use. Didi’s take: “Don't Do that a single in front of the children! Spirulina is inexperienced, incredibly inexperienced. You can appear like the Hulk. Having said that, I loved this mask. It smelled like banana and remaining my pores and skin vivid and so hydrated that it had been in fact springy towards the contact.” • Increase 5 tablespoons of simple yogurt, two tablespoons of honey, and two teaspoons of orange juice in 50 percent a cup of prompt oatmeal. This moisturizing face mask helps retain tender, easy and radiant pores and skin. This is another excellent pack to eliminate tan and brighten the pores and skin. Choose 2 tbsp orange peel powder, insert in some drops of lime also to this insert a tbsp Each and every of fullers earth and sandalwood powder to create a clean paste. Inside https://twitter.com/steptoremedies/status/1087123981155618816 , mash the strawberries with a fork until eventually sleek. Add during the honey and blend the elements with each other. Utilizing clean hands or possibly a sanitized brush, gently use the combination throughout your face, staying away from the attention place.

What Does strawberry face mask Mean?

The sugar Within this recipe works being a all-natural exfoliant useful in breaking apart scar tissue and unclogging skin pores. Depart the mask on for about ten minutes and afterwards rinse it off with h2o. Use this elegance mask about a couple of times each week. Clean and cleanse these strawberries carefully. Future mash them and later blend them While using the honey and milk. Drain the combination. And unlike Do it yourself and retailer-acquired face masks, SiO Magnificence’s Raise series pores and skin patches might be worn just about every night time for supercharged healing and wrinkle prevention. No DIY face mask can make that assert. The calcium sandalwood aids within the renewal in the worn out cells and prevent DNA problems. Also, try out these home-created packs to battle wrinkles. These masks are perfect for an at-household facial. Start with thoroughly clean skin and in advance of applying the mask, lay a heat, soaked wash fabric on the face to open up up your pores. Soon after rinsing from the mask, clean your face with chilly water or use a toner to close the pores. Then use an excellent face oil. The exact same mask to generally be utilized not only to your face but additionally on the opposite regions of the human body w here ver you will find spots, such as, around the again or buttocks. Yeast mask for dry skin Turmeric masks have a daily area in my magnificence program — I do them the moment each week. They’ll go away a slight yellow hue about the pores and skin, but that fades in about half an hour. Should you notice residue after the thirty minute mark, you'll be able to soak a cotton ball with milk and go around Those people areas. Mash most of the elements collectively, but never puree inside a blender: you'd like this to generally be spreadable, not a liquid. Implement evenly all over your face and Allow sit 8-10 minutes. Wipe off with a heat, damp facecloth after which you can rinse with cool drinking water. Pat dry. I have tried out coffee honey nd lemon mixed face pack nd it is actually efficient to my pores and skin….u should try it the moment ?? Hold a jar close to and dab the honey on acne, burns or insignificant cuts. And if you’re emotion Ill, have a spoonful or two. It truly is perfect for cleaning balckheads mechanically Later on. It is usually nourishing as yeast has fairly of B6 vitamin and quickens circulation within the used region. Remember to acquire somewhat instant to accomplish your profile so we can personalize your working experience and make sure you acquire articles and offers which are appropriate for you. Now, this a person could well be good for dry skin. Olive oil moisturizes pores and skin and it has vitamin E information much too. Incorporate 1 tbsp of coffee powder with one tbsp of olive oil, blend very well, and use the paste on face and neck. Rinse off when its semi dry. Skin Treatment is significant to each of us and performs an essential role inside our grooming course of action. Amazon India offers you a big collection of products that are made to meet up with your skin treatment requires. It is possible to look through as a result of our choice to locate the product or service of your decision by utilizing handy search parameters for example manufacturers, seller, price tag, availability and regular client opinions.

The orange face mask Diaries

Utilize the combination on to your face making use of clean finger strategies in a round movement. Enable sit for quarter-hour. With this time, you may take a quick soak in the bathtub or read a chapter of that book you’ve been meaning to finish. Hold oneself calm. UPDATE!!!!!!!!! Stop Clendamycin AND Retin A. (A single some months in the past, and a person just lately) I believe they did not assistance just as much as I needed them to, but still feel this does and can go on to make use of it. Yeast is a part of masks for the face - incredibly powerfulSkin-care solutions. But whether it is Mistaken to make use of them, you can place your self and hurt. Therefore recommends healingandbodywork acquainted with a few valuable strategies: In advance of getting ready a mask from yeast, Verify the expiration date of many of the ingredients. Application: Implement a layer of this Kelp – Aloe Vera – Honey Mask carefully on the face and other impacted locations. Go away it on for fifteen to twenty minutes and afterwards rinse with lukewarm drinking water. A few minutes later, wash your face all over again with cold water. -Whenever you rinse your face or other human body parts just after implementing these masks, usually do not use any type of cleaning soap. In best face mask , soap isn't suggested to the treatment of acne, given that the problem goes significantly outside of easy Dust or oil. By logging into your account, you agree to our Terms of Use and Privateness Policy, and also to using cookies as explained therein. As you switch up your personal treatment regimen in preparation for that warmer months just around the corner, don’t overlook to pamper that beautiful Component of you that greets the entire world each and every day: your face. Continue reading for 7 simple face masks which you can make in the home. Combine yogurt and yeast in a bowl and produce a thick paste. Utilize this yogurt and yeast mask onto your cleansed face and go away for twenty mins right until it gets totally dry. Clean your face with Luke warm drinking water and wipe it using a gentle fabric. It can be employed 2 times each week for ideal end result. Feels like an extremely refreshing facial mask! It would undoubtedly scent fragrant way too. Many thanks for sharing :) Honey alone can be employed as being a mask and it is productive in curing acne by cleansing your pores and never letting microbes expand, as a result of its antimicrobial properties. Additionally, the waxy Element of honey really helps to keep the skin smooth, clean and glowing. Warning: Verify Should you be allergic to any from the substances within the mask by implementing it on a little patch on the wrist after which you can watch for several several hours. If rashes appear or in the event you demonstrate other signs and symptoms of allergy, never use this mask on your own face. It's actually not challenging to make your own personal orange peel powder—all you require are oranges, a blender, and 1 to five times (in order to give the orange peels the perfect time to dry). The peel has anti-bacterial and anti-microbial Qualities which allow it to be perfect for dealing with acne and oily pores and skin. Additionally, it operates being a skin lightening agent and will do wonders for marks about the face and pigmentation. Moreover website , more obvious Qualities, face packs with orange peel will also be utilized as face cleansers and go away the pores and skin wanting refreshed. Great write-up! I've an issue. Does utilizing a face mask come up with a massive change within your facial pores and skin (following the main use or initially couple utilizes)? I have not made use of a person right before but realized someone who did... Or you have to use it regularly?