#but the irony that my brain tried to kill my body a few months ago only to now have my body try to kill my brain

[xxeycisxx]

Mission

Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: So, y/n is a skilled fighter, in my mind I saw her powers similar to black widow and elektra. Both Matt and y/n are vigilantes. y/n gets injured on a mission and Matt saves her, so they have a chance to talk about their unresolved past. (18+)

TW: mention of injuries, unprotected sex, fingering, swearing, you know the drill. MDNI

wordcount: now sure, but its like five pages long or something.

taglist: @its-carlerrr

-masterlist here

You woke up on a couch, soft cushions softly caressed your muscles, but after a few seconds a sharp pain in your head made you open your eyes. You realized where you were lying. It was his apartment, his couch, his smell all around you. 

,,I was wondering when you’re gonna wake up,” you heard his voice and your eyes began searching for him all over the room. 

,,Sorry about that, maybe that sharp pain in my head had something to do with that,” irony spilled out of your mouth. You tried to apply some pressure on the wound, but it only made it worse, you hissed again and tried to get up. 

You spent some time here. But after you and Matt decided to call it quits, you didn’t even have a chance to talk to him over the phone. You tried it once, when you were feeling guilty that you probably could have tried more, that it could have been more.That was probably the main reason you stopped communicating in the first place. The feelings you had for Matt scared you. And you weren’t sure if you, or Matt was ready for that. 

So, even though he was fucking your brain out two months ago on the same couch that you were lying on right now, you tried to push those memories away, so that your heart won’t give out on you. Now is not the time to think about his hands, and how they held you tightly to his naked body or how his sweaty chest was glistening in the dim light coming from the streets.

,,Let me help you,” he sat right next to you on his couch and you created some space for him. But still, he was suddenly so close to you, parts of him were actually touching your skin right now. That's when you realized - you’re not wearing your pants, only black t-shirt and panties covering your body. 

,,Why am I practically naked?” he lightly pressed a cold pack to your wound on your head and laughed. You missed that smile.

,,You don’t remember?” you raised your eyebrow in confusion. 

,,I remember that I was trying to escape on the roof of the Yakatomi building, i was there to get evidence of corruption in Novak’s case…” you had some memories, but everything was still a big blur.

You are trying to escape, there are five huge guys trying to catch you and probably kill you on the spot. You have the flash drive in your pocket, so the mission is a great success so far. Now, everything you need to do is get rid of them and disappear. 

You get to the fire escape leading to the roof. You move quickly, each move is well-thought, it’s not like this is the first time you’re doing this. Once you’re on the roof, your next step is to hide, the best way to do this is to surprise them, they can’t fight something they don’t see. The night played into your cards. You’re trained for this, they’re not. 

Hidden behind a thick wall, you wait for the first guy to come just close enough so you can grab him from behind and press your right hand on his neck to stop the oxygen flow in his body, left hand pressed on his face to not alert his buddies. One out.

For the second one, you come quietly from the side, he’s unconscious in a few seconds. The third one didn’t take much effort either. 

It was actually when you came for the fourth. You were preparing to take him down and then - black shadow overpowered your mind and you were suddenly nothing. 

,,Yeah, you’re welcome for that too. You could have been dead,” Matt was visibly angry now. His pressure on your wound hardened and it made you yank. 

,,Sorry,” his touch was suddenly filled with tenderness again. His other hand held your arm, you know there was no specific reason to hold your arm, but you said nothing. You let yourself enjoy that small piece of pleasure. 

,,You were spying on me?” your voice didn’t sound angry, just confused. 

,,I was just in the neighbourhood, heard you and I thought you might need help,” he was so close right now. He was wearing a grey shirt and black boxers, which was your favourite combo. DId he knew that? 

,,That does not explain why i dont have my pants,” your vision was still a bit off. But you felt calm, maybe a little bit sad. You looked at him and tried to read his face, to get at least some information of how he was feeling.

,,You have a wound on your thigh, needed stitches and it’s not like I haven’t touched any of that before, so I figured…” you know he was probably trying to make a joke, but his voice was still a bit stern.

,,Haha, I missed your jokes,” another ironic comment. But he just raised his eyebrows. There was a moment of silence. He still held the ice pack to your head, the way he was close to you made you nervous. You felt your heart beginning to race and knew he could hear that. Great.  

,,Let’s not do that right now,” he said. He wasn't being mean. There was actually something broken now in his voice.

,,What do you mean?”

,,Look, I know we didn’t talk for some time and last time we saw each other… It didn't end well.” He put the ice pack on the coffee table right next to the couch. His other hand left your arm but a big portion of his body was still pressed to yours. 

,,I didn’t wanna talk about it,” 

,,You know I can tell when you lie to me, right?” he actually sounded amused right now. Is this a good time to do this right now? Your plans for today’s night were so much different.

,,Okay, if you have something to tell me, then tell me,” you didn’t mean to sound so cold, but it just came out of you. It surprised him a little bit, you noticed how he created a little distance between you two. 

,,Why don’t you start with the talking, it would be nice for a change, because one night you’re telling me how you want me and the next one you’re leaving me,” he stood up and you got up to sit, you could not do this lying. He was a bit angry right now, or maybe he was just trying not to yell at you, you weren’t quite sure.

,,What do you want me to say, Matt? I thought I could do this but I don’t really think either of us is ready for some kind of commitment,” you were right. This was the safest road you could take.

,,Don’t act like you know better how I feel than I do. I know what I felt, y/n,” there was not so much anger in Matt’s voice now, at the end of it, it was just sadness. 

,,Excuse me? You were ready? For what? To be afraid everyday that we might lose each other?  I know what happened with you and Elektra and I saw how you were afraid whenever we went on a mission togeth-” Matt didn’t even let you finish, as soon as you brought her into the conversation. It didn’t even take a minute and you were in a fight.

,,Okay, Elektra died, it was bad, but that has nothing to do with you, I don’t get why you can’t accept that somebody might actually care whether you live or die?” he was yelling at you know - it feels like there is a wall between you two, you try to talk to each other, but only half actually gets to the other side. 

,,Because this is my life, Matthew, I don’t need anybody to babysit me and I definitely don’t need to be afraid if you live or die!” he stopped for a second before he answered. 

,,Oh, so this is not really about me, being afraid for your life?” desperate laugh filled his voice. 

,,What do you want right now, Matt, hmm?” you asked, and you actually wanted an answer, that wasn’t a rhetorical one, since this whole situation was so insane, it probably couldn’t get any worse.

And then he kissed you. His lips found yours. You didn’t even want to admit to yourself how glad you were that he did it. Your hands wrapped around his neck, you pressed him closer to yourself, didn’t want him to ever leave your body alone. 

He slipped his hands under your shirt and took it off of you in one quick move. His right hand immediately found your nipple and the left one came around your waist to push you closer to his chest. You moaned into the kiss as his skilled, gentle fingers pulled on your nipple, played with it between his fingers and slowly started to apply more pressure.

As soon as you were able to pull yourself together, you took off his shirt too, to even the score. Your nails were digging into his skin on his back as he was kissing his way into your neck. You felt his tongue tasting your skin there, taking you in. You both were already out of breath, moaning into each other. 

He took you into his arms and quickly moved you to the kitchen, where he put you on the dining table. Your bodies never actually parted, you needed to feel his skin on yours and never stop. How much you missed this, how much you missed him. Not just the sex, but him. 

Nobody made you feel like Matt did. With him, anything was possible. Missions were actually much more fun, it was actually a bit weird, how good you were together, like two pieces of a puzzle, working together.

He quickly slipped your panties off. You were all naked in front of him, ready for whatever he has to give you. His hands found their way between your legs. 

,,That’s what I want,” he muttered into your mouth. That right there, made you wet, as if whatever came before wasn’t enough for him. You knew he could sense everything he was doing to your body and he knew exactly how your body responded, there was no way you could hide something from him. He found your clit and he started lightly circling it. You moaned in response. 

,,Is that what you want too? Tell me, I want to hear you say it,” you couldn’t control your own body. He had full control right now. Using your mouth for talking and actually creating a full sentence seemed a bit too much right now. But his fingers disappeared suddenly.

,,Say it,” he commanded. He looked at you with his unfocused eyes from above, but you knew he sees much more than you could ever imagine. Nobody made you feel so naked.

,,I want you, Matthew, please,” desperate for his touch again, you were able to mutter at least a simple answer. His fingers resumed their movement and he kissed you again slowly, letting you focus on what he was doing to your body. You felt his erection on your inner thigh and it made your pussy squeeze around nothing. He let out a little laugh.

,,Did you miss this? Cause i did,” he whispered into your neck, where he was playing with your sensitive skin. 

,,Matt, please, I need to feel you inside me,” you begged, you did miss him. A lot.

,,Not yet sweetheart, you’re gonna cum first,” he commanded. And he wasn’t so far away from the truth either. He was playing with your clit, his fingers went much harder now, he wasn’t losing any time and went for his price.  His other hand went inside you, immediately finding that spot, only he knew about.

,,Yeah, right there, isn’t it? Did you miss my fingers inside you? Making you this wet?” he enjoyed every second of your torment, suddenly, your body was no longer yours, but it belonged completely to him. He was rubbing that spot inside you with two of his fingers, while his other hand was attacking your clit. You were screaming now, pleading for your life.

You came so hard. You didn’t even notice it was so close. Matt laughed.

,,Good girl, you’re being so good for me, baby, just like that.” his fingers left your sensitive pussy quickly, so he could remove his boxers. It was just a few seconds and you already were so empty without him filling you.

His cock filled you quickly, he didn’t wait for anything. He started ramming into you hard, you leaned onto your elbows, half-lying  on his table while he was standing over you, your lips pressed together, moaning into each other’s mouth.

,,...I missed your pussy so much, baby…”

,,...Just like that, squeeze me…”

,,...I missed how sweet you taste…”

You loved how talkative Matt was during sex, he knew exactly what to say to make you desperate for him. You were displayed right here on his table for him, opening yourself for him, so he can take whatever he wants from you. Your body belonged to him, and his body was yours. 

He moaned so sweetly while he was ramming hard inside you, you loved that it was you who made him feel like this. You loved watching his face, his furrowed eyebrows, his eyes closed, even though he saw you completely. His messy hair, his beautiful body. You wanted to have it all, you wanted him to be yours.

,,I am gonna cum baby,” he whispered, his movement becoming more uneven.

,,Yes, baby, cum inside me please, Matt, I need it, missed you so much, I want it all,” you begged and begged, what you just said was probably too much.

,,Take it!” he clenched his teeth and moaned, his cock slotted fully inside you, you felt his warm spurts covering your walls from inside, finding home inside you. It felt so good.

He moved a few times, but then you both fell on the table, Matt lied on your chest, completely spent. 

,,Can I stay tonight?” you asked.

.

.

.

You wanna be tagged too? Apply here! :)

#matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock praise kink #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #daredevil one shot #matt murdock fem!reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock

[squeakadeeks]

i had made a post about this previously but got a little lost in the sauce so i opted to delete it, so heres a more metered update on what tf going on bc damnb cha boy has a lot on their plate and im feeling kinda 😳

in the past week i had a doctor explicitly tell me that if i dont disrupt my ED and quickly, my heart will stop; and then to top it off they ran blood work and I got ? ? ?? CAPRI SUN for blood. Low glucose, low ferritin, low red blood cell count, low white blood cell count- (like for real considering all of that what is actually in my veins rn) all of which makes me nervous because we're due for another covid spike with the lifting of masks and holding a giant outdoor event (and a good 20% of my students refuse to wear masks) so if i get sick with covid or otherwise im going to get mcfreaking cheesed....also we have a major departmental exam coming up where if you dont pass it they can kick you out, and its in l e s s t h a n 2 w e e k s on top of all of this (luckily i will have 2 more tries because im 100% certain im going to fail it this time around) but its still a lot of stress.

i keep fluctuating between handling it fine and being in full "oh my god is this it" panic mode between my struggles with being in the do-or-die phase of my ED and whatever the heck is going on with my blood. but do i think im going to die really? probably not, like the biggest punchline is im certainly at a heightened risk for it and things are looking pretty scary, but i shouldnt drop dead anytime soon more than anything its just illustrating how alone and powerless I feel, and have felt, for a long time.

luckily i have some good creative projects to keep me company and im not like totally alone down here, im just not close enough to really talk to anyone about the fine details of this yet and I dont have a therapist either. ie i have friends here to have good times with, but im not sure how to weather the bad times yet.

#also i know its probably too cavallier to make this joke #but the irony that my brain tried to kill my body a few months ago only to now have my body try to kill my brain #but something that bums me out about the situation #is obvs im new to the area #and i think all these crisies one after another is making a bad impression and impacting my ability to socially connect #especially now thats its like the 'adult social sphere' where people are less willing to be patient and will just disengage immediately #at least i got my silly little costumes keeping me going #but the thought of having a heart attack in my lonely apartment and not having anyone realize i'm gone/been dead for weeks #is a little disheartening to say the least

[arvinsescape]

hellooou can you write some angst with mob!tom but pls with fluff at the end :)

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get back. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Swearing.

W/C: 1.7K

You were filled with rage as you approached his mansion. One of the men who were stood outside his door looked somewhat shocked to see you. As you went to open the door he stopped you by gently putting his hand on your arm.

“Do not test me today.” You warned through gritted teeth.

“He’s in a meeting and asked not to be disturbed.” He said as he smiled sadly.

“Oh, did he now?” You laughed at the irony.

“Miss L/N, please. He’s been quick to snap as it is, he’ll have my head if I let you go in and disrupt him.” He was somewhat pleading with you. You had a good relationship with some of the men that worked for Tom.

“And what will he say if you don’t let me in?” You challenged. You knew it was cruel to put him in this position, he was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t but you were so angry with Tom at the minute it took over the rational part of your brain.

“Fair point.” He sighed reluctantly as he let go of your arm and you stormed into the mansion. It hadn’t changed much since you’d last been in here.

“Y/N/N?” You heard Harrison as he was coming down the staircase. “What are you doing here?”

“Which meeting room is he in?” You asked him. Your tone took him aback, he’d only seen you truly angry on a handful of occasions.

“Why? What’s happened?” He asked concern in his tone.

“As if you don’t know.” You seethed as you made your up the staircase and past him, you’d just have to check all his rooms.

“I don’t I’m afraid. Look, maybe you should calm down and let me make you a cuppa, then you can talk to him when he’s finished.” Harrison tried to reason, hot on your heels.

“No, I want to talk to him now.” You seethed.

“That’s not a good idea. He’s meeting with Jameson Y/N, you know how dangerous he is.” Harrison said as you approached one of his many meeting rooms practically banging the door open. It was empty.

“Then why aren’t you in there with him?” You snapped as you made your way towards the next room.

“It’s just the two of them. Y/N, please, will you calm down. You’re gonna cause a scene.”

“I don’t really give a shit Harrison.” You challenged as you turned to face him.

“Just please calm down. Tom wouldn’t forgive me if I let you into that room with that man.” Harrison said, he was pleading now, something he rarely did. You looked into the blue of his eyes and your anger subsided a little, he was still someone you considered a best friend.

“Fine.” You mumbled as you followed him back downstairs and into the large kitchen. All of Tom’s staff throwing glances your way, probably wondering what had brought you back here after so many months. You chatted with Harrison for a while and it was as if he was trying to make you forget your anger and it was working.

“Hello darling.” You heard that voice and the anger returned faster than it had disappeared. You turned to look at him. He was leaning against the door frame, arms folded across his strong chest. He didn’t have a tie or blazer on and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, sleeves rolled up and shirt tucked into those goddam black dress pants that you loved so much on him. Three months ago you’d have jumped on him.

“How fucking dare you.” You shouted at him as you stood. Harrison could sense the tension and practically bolted out of the room, ushering the staff with him.

“How dare I what?” He challenged and he looked so smug with himself.

“I told you to leave me alone.” You seethed.

“I have, I don’t recall coming anywhere near you as per your request.” He answered and it sounded like he was talking to one of his ‘business’ associates and your anger flared higher than you thought possible.

“Don’t you speak to me like that.” You challenged him as you took a step towards him, god he looked good.

“Like what my love? You’re the one in here shouting.” He smirked; he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Fuck you Tom!” You suddenly screamed at him and he held somewhat of an amused glare in his eyes. “How dare you have me followed.” You pointed your finger at him and his face fell for a second before he recovered.

“Darling, that was only to make sure you were safe.” He replied and his voice faltered slightly, only something you would have picked up on.

“I asked you to leave me alone.” You snapped at him.

“I promise it was only to make sure you were safe.” He said again, he’d recovered fully now. Amused glint in his eye as he pushed himself from the doorframe to take a step towards you.

“I didn’t ask for or want your protection. I left for a reason Tom.” You lowered your voice but your tone still held so much anger towards him.

“I wasn’t going to have you followed forever, just until you’d been away long enough that people wouldn’t target you.” He reasoned.

“I am not one of your possessions Tom, I could have you arrested for stalking.” You were so angry and having him here in front of you after months was making your head spin.

“You won’t do that sweetheart.” He said and his tone was so sure.

“What makes you think that?” You challenged him and his amusement was back. He took a few steps closer to you and now you were chest to chest. He leant down to your ear as he spoke.

“I know you wouldn’t do that because you still love me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I hate you.” You snapped; his scent was making your head spin again.

“It’s okay, I still love you too. I know you tried to move on, went on dates but they just couldn’t get it right could they? They couldn’t make you feel the things I do.” He spoke into your ear and your breath hitched at having him so close, you gripped his shirt in your fists. “You can come home you know? Stop being so stubborn and come home.” He whispered into your ear. Your anger flared again and before you could stop yourself you wanted to slap that smug grin off his face and just as you were about to make contact his hand grips your wrist.

“Most people wouldn’t get away with that darling.” His tone amused as he slowly lowered your hand. He was purposely trying to rile you up and you knew it but fuck he looked and smelt so good.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you smashed your lips onto his, pulling him closer by his shirt. His hands instantly went to your hair as he kissed you back. It was hungry, full of desire and lust. He backed you up into the kitchen counter as you got lost in his kiss and his hands in your hair. He carefully lifted you onto the worktop and your legs wrapped around his waist as his kisses trailed down your neck.

You were so lost in the moment, not thinking about why you were here in the first place. It felt good to feel his lips on you again, to feel his hands roaming your body again. Just as you were about to get completely lost he stopped with a sigh.

“I know you’re not a possession. That’s never how I looked at it.” He admitted as he pulled away from you slightly and you instantly missed his touch.

“Tom, just, talk about this later.” You tried to pull him back to you, your mind was now completely clouded with lust but he stood his ground.

“Y/N. I had you followed to make sure you were safe because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. It wasn’t so I could keep tabs on you like I do with my rivals; it was so nothing happened to you. You asked me to leave you alone when you left and I did, I just had to make sure you were safe. I didn’t stop loving you.” He admitted as he took your face into his hands and you sighed as your emotions calmed down.

“I know you don’t like that I did that but it wasn’t gonna go on forever. Once I new you weren’t gonna be targeted anymore, I would have stopped, I promise.” He admitted as he kissed your forehead and you sighed again.

“I don’t even really know why I left in the first place.” You sighed.

“Because you needed space and that’s okay my love, I understand why you left.”

“You were right, I tried to have other men take me out but it wasn’t the same. I missed you, all the time. I regretted leaving as soon as I did. I think I used my anger as an excuse to come here today, deep down I just wanted to see you.” You admitted softly and he laughed.

“So I was going to get a slap in the face because deep down you wanted to see me?” He was amused again.

“I still think you would have deserved it.” You teased.

“You know, I’ve killed men for less.” He teased back.

“Good job I’m a woman then.” You fired back. He hummed at that, he wasn’t a threat to women in any way and you both knew that. You missed the banter and you missed him. “Can I come home Tom?” You asked as you sighed.

“Of course you can darling. I love you.” He said and he was grinning.

“I love you Tom. Now can you please kiss me again.” You asked as you pulled him closer to you again.

“Gladly.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst #mob!tom

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

What We Want and What We Can Have

Part Two- My Love, Don’t Fade Away

WHOOPS IT’S A PART TWO THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR (part one lives hither)!

Warnings: cannon-typical violence, angst, unresolved tension encroaching resolution, more of Ron and his big beautiful brain, Ron has like three feelings and you take up two of them, non-edited nonsense bc feelings don’t wait for approval

I listened to Reminder by Mumford and Sons as well as I Don’t Feel It Anymore by William Fitzsimmons. Let me know if any of you crazy kids are interested in my BoB heavy-feels writing playlist bc ya know i’ve got one.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The grey smoke from the burning church stung your eyes, and as you feel your tears trickle down your cheeks you wonder if they are soot-stained as well. 

 Around you, you can hear the screams of bombs whistling through the air- the harmonizing shrieks of the wounded and dying ringing in your ears as you watch Gene running towards the smoldering building, but you can’t seem to do anything other than watch. You know you need to do something, anything to help the medic save the handful of people bursting through the smoke like ashen fireworks.  

Yet all you seem capable of doing is dumbly stare at the ruins of the makeshift hospital you’d just watched explode. 

 The makeshift hospital you had been tasked to watch over.

For weeks, you’d been monitoring intel reports for any sign that the Luftwaffe had been intending to bomb the town of Bastogne. Weeks of pouring over intercepted and forwarded information and maps and citizen chatter that you’d been so sure indicated that the town was safe from harm, that the air attacks would be solely focused on the woods. 

Yet here you were, standing in the heart of a bomb-pocked town with ice in your veins and a terrible hollow in your heart.

 You’d failed. You couldn’t have been more spectacularly wrong.

 The irony of your mistake ending in fire was not lost on you, and as your eyes danced up with the flames and plumes of smoke you were filled with the same helpless feeling that had found you after learning of the fate of your mother, sister, and brother-in-law all those months ago. Only this time, you had no one to blame but yourself.

 You had done this. You’d missed something and now all of those wounded soldiers and brave nurses and innocent people were dead and trapped.

 When Gene grabs your shoulders you nearly jump out of your skin, blinking for the first time in what felt like hours and forcing yourself to focus on the drawn face of your friend. Something in his eyes gives you the impression that he’s been trying to get your attention for a long time.

 “Y/N!” he shouts, using his grip on you to pull you back towards the jeep. “We have to go, we’ve gotta go back—”

 “I-I should stay,” you stammer, limbs feeling like lead as you stumble along stiffly. “I don’t think…”

 Gene, ignoring your quiet mumbling, all but shoves you into the car and takes your previous seat as driver.

 Eyes having drifted back to the smoldering church, you try again to get your fumbling mouth to work enough to speak.

 “Gene, I think—”

 “You’re not staying here, Y/N.”

The way he says it leaves no room for argument.

“Bet you don’t even realize that your face is bleeding like a stuck pig….”

 When you raise your hand to touch your cheek you feel that he’s right, you are bleeding- most likely from the initial blast of debris that had hit you when the bomb hit.

As Gene whips the jeep around to take off down the road, you feel the cool wind sting at your eyes, the air so drastically different from the smoke you’d just been breathing that it makes you lightheaded.

 “I killed them,” you murmur, despite the fact that you know Gene can’t hear you. “I killed them.”

 Gene is crying when you look over at him but you can’t find it in you to offer him any comfort. What would the point be? What could you possibly say when everything you’d just witnessed was a direct consequence of something you’d missed?

 Ron was wrong, you think to yourself as you look back to the rapidly approaching forest. It is better to feel nothing. I want to feel nothing.

 Almost as if all you had to do was think about it- a strange calm settles bitterly in your chest, joining the hollow that had been deepening each day since you’d seen Blithe get shot through the throat.

 Just as you’d wished, you slipped into the numbness of nothing.

 ~

 Ron was worried about you.

 No, he was more than worried. He was concerned...deeply concerned.

He had been for a while now- ever since you’d come back from a scouting mission with Blithe’s blood on your hands and a grim look of defeat marring your pretty face. He’d tried to talk to you about it, going as far as to pull you aside and wash the blood from your hands in hopes of getting you to open up privately- ignoring the confused looks of your superiors and his colleagues as he did so.

You had been, were worth any rumors that could come from his intentionally infrequent sign of humanity.

 But you’d given him nothing more than a weak smile and whisper of thanks before slipping away to find Nixon. It was like that moment in the attic had never happened.

 Seeing you come back from the town of Bastogne had shocked him, too. Not as much in terms of the blood pouring from the cut on your cheek, but in the absolutely dead look in your eyes he’d found when he had begun questioning you as to what had happened.

 “I was wrong,” you’d said emotionlessly, barely flinching when Spina had brought an alcohol-drenched rag to your wound. “I missed something, and now the town is gone.”

 Before he could even begin to think of a reply, Spina had asked him to help get you to CP so the other officers could figure out the next course of action. And once he had, you’d had no more to say.

 That night, Ron had poured over the information you’d been given concerning Bastogne, glaring at Nixon until the other man had relented and reluctantly given him the small wooden box you kept your reports in. You hadn’t ‘missed’ anything- there had been nothing to indicate any sort of attack to the town for you to miss. You had done nothing wrong.

 Not that he’d be able to convince you of that. Ron knew you well enough by now to know that your stubbornness could rival his own if you indulge yourself in it enough. He’d learned that long ago in Georgia upon meeting you, that you had not gotten here by accident or through any sort of familial connection- but rather by sheer determination and steadfastness and unapologetic bullheadedness, not to mention a natural gift for finding patterns in behaviors and translating them into strategy.

Watching you work, then and now, had been nothing short of marvelous. 

 But this wasn’t you. This heartbroken husk of you that he had been seeing now made his already frozen body feel even colder.

 Ron needed you back.

 Unbeknownst to you (and initially to him as well), you’d become the reason he fought. At first, it had been a more practical explanation: you worked tirelessly to secure the information needed to build strategies and he felt the need to reward that hard work with his own successful execution of the plans you’d made. Then, upon completing the task, you would come in and use any of the information you found to build the next strategy. It had been transactional, an exchange of services that helped the both of you work towards the mutual goal of winning the war.

It was simple.

 There was no real event to precede his shift in perspective. One day you’d been Y/N and the next you were Y/N. He’d nearly said as much in the attic, when your eyes had burned him alive with their curious sincerity and your heart had called to him so sweetly he’d nearly kissed you. 

 Seeing you now, blinking slowly in the warm candlelight while the voices of the choir wrapped around everyone like a thick blanket, Ron wondered if he should’ve kissed you.

He wonders if, by doing so, he could’ve somehow stopped you from getting to this point.

 You hadn’t been at the frontlines earlier that day for the siege of Foy, yet you looked just as drained as every other man in the company who had. Even with his heavy jacket wrapped around your shoulders, your fingers still trembled as you picked at the dirt beneath your nails, making him wonder if you were shaking from something else other than the cold.

 You startle slightly as he reaches over and places his hand over yours, head quickly turning to look at him and the tiniest dust of pink coloring your cheeks when you realized how close your face was to his. Almost as if you’d forgotten that he was sitting beside you in the pew, that only an hour ago he’d forced you to accept his coat while he scribbled out the names of the men now under his command onto some paper he’d asked one of the sisters for earlier. He hadn’t bothered writing your name- you were not like all of the others, you weren’t something to oversee and keep in order.

And as far as Ron was concerned, you’d been connected to him since D-Day. 

 He didn’t need a note to remember that.

 A shy, small smile turns your lips up at the corners- the action not seeming to quite reach your eyes but Ron felt the sincerity in it all the same. Flickering your gaze back down to his hand resting over yours, he watches as you hook your thumb over his small finger, pleased at the warmth he feels as you momentarily play with the silver ring he always wore there.  Watching your profile, he only takes his hand away when you return your attention to the young girls in front of the altar, allowing his gaze to linger on you for a few moments before turning back to his list.

 Feeling another set of eyes on him, he looks up and catches Lipton looking over his shoulder at the exchange. The other man quickly turns back upon being caught, and Ron studies the back of the other man’s head for a few moments before making up his mind.

 “Y/N,” Ron says quietly, tilting his head towards the door of the church once your eyes find his again, standing and rolling his sore shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll drop you off at your billet on my way to Battalion.”

 The offer seemed to surprise Lipton, but you take a deep breath and nod shortly.

 “Alright,” you say softly, “let me go return Luz’s lighter and I’ll meet you at the door?”

As he nods, you stand up carefully and side-step in front of Ron out of the pew, meeting Lipton’s smile with a weak one of your own as you give the man’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

 “Night, Car.”

 Lipton pats her hand affectionately and then you’re striding over to the pews where Luz, Liebgott, Randleman, and Heffron have set up camp.

Ron watches you go as he loads his gear back on, once again feeling Lipton staring at him. There’s a familiarity in the way Lipton is looking at him- it’s a look everyone seems to send his way, ever since Donald Malarkey started the rumor on D-Day.

 “You wanna ask me, don’t you?” Ron asks, watching the other man fidget.

 “Ask you what, sir?”

 “You wanna know if they’re true or not,” he clarifies, sizing the other man up. “The stories about me?”

 Lip said nothing, and when Ron looked over his shoulder at the man he saw that Lip was looking away. The man amused him, to say the least. The man’s bravery was starting to show in ways that filled Ron with every confidence in him- glad to have a Lieutenant with a backbone in his newly appointed Company.

 “Ever notice with stories like that, everyone says they hear it from someone who was there, and then when you ask that person they say they heard it from someone who was there?” Ron steps from the pew to stand before Lipton. 

“There’s nothing to ‘em, really. I bet if you went back 2000 years you’d hear a couple Centurions standing around yacking about how Tertius lopped off the heads of some Carthaginian prisoners.”

 Lipton seemed to consider that for a moment before replying. 

“Well, maybe they kept talking about it because they never heard Tertius deny it.”

 Slinging his gun over his shoulder, Ron lets a smirk show on his face and squares his shoulders. “Well, maybe that’s because Tertius knew there was some value in the men thinking he was the meanest, toughest son of a bitch in the whole Roman Legion.” 

 When Ron looks over to where you are, he is glad to see that some of the tension in your posture has lessened. He can hear you mumble something that amuses Luz and Bull to no end, unable to help but feel a tinge of sadness at the fact that you’ve still got that hollow look in your eyes.

 “If I may speak freely, Sir?” Lipton says, breaking Ron from his trance and allowing him to look back to the other man. When he nods, the new Lieutenant dips his head indicatively in your direction.

“I’m worried about her….a lot of us are, Sir.”

 Ron keeps his expression neutral, nodding at the comment.

“Is there a question in there, Lipton?”

 A grimace crosses Lip’s face as he seems to ponder his words carefully. 

“No, Sir. It’s more of an observation, if anything.”

 “Go ahead.”

 “I know that, technically, Captain Nixon is meant to be her immediate supervisor,” Lipton says with a bit more confidence. “But I worry that he’s been, er….neglecting some of his responsibilities in favor of more cathartic activities….”

He cuts himself off, looking from side to side quickly before lowering his voice.

“Captain Nixon has been passing the brunt of the analysis work to Captain Y/L/N, if not ignoring it entirely. And, as great an officer as Y/N is, Sir—”

 “I understand, Lieutenant,” Ron interrupts Lipton just shy of insubordination, giving the confused man a nod before realizing that he’s unintentionally called the other man by his new title. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention. You were right to do so.”

 After informing Lipton of his promotion, Ron quickly turns on his heel and makes eye contact with you once more. As you fall in to step with him through the doorway of the church, Ron processes the new information he’s been given.

 While he’d never really liked Lewis Nixon, this revelation has only solidified his stance on the man. It was one thing to drink on the job and still be productive- whatever arrangement this was was unacceptable. 

 Your hand is soft in his as he takes it, the fumble in your stride telling him that you hadn’t been expecting him to do so. But you still don’t let go, you still follow him past Battalion and you offer no resistance when he guides you inside of the small cottage you’d been assigned to.

 When Ron gently takes your face in his hands, your eyes flicker down to his mouth before he even begins to speak.

 “Do you remember what you asked me in the attic, a few months ago? About what I cared about?”

 You nod slowly, and as your gaze meets his he could swear that you’re about to burn him to ask once more. You seem to lean into his touch, and while there is still caution in your eyes he thinks he may also see a flicker of intrigue in your irises as well.

 “Things you can’t have. Things you shouldn’t care about.”

 You say it as if you didn’t need to think about it very hard to remember- something that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

 “You, you know that I was talking about you.”

 Then, you do something that Ron will never forget.

 You smile.

And this time, it reaches your eyes.

~ ~ ~ (*looks over at all the homework/chores I’ve neglected in favor of writing this* WHOOPS

BUT FOR REAL HERE WE BE AGAIN. HOPE I DIDN’T DEPRESS Y’ALL TOO MUCH BC I KEEP DOING THAT WITHOUT INTENDING TO OK LOVE YOU BYE )

taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty​ @liebgotttme​

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ron speirs imagines #ronald speirs x reader #problematicfavesareproblematic

[plumoh]

[FE3H] farewell, i love you

Rating: T

Word count: 2114

Summary: Felix keeps dying; Sylvain can't allow this to happen. / Time loop.

Note: AO3 link. Major character death, ambiguous ending; originally written for Sylvix week 2020. I love time loops and the tragedy of loving someone :’)

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I know.”

“Leaving you is the last thing I’d do. And if you’re the one who leaves, I’ll follow.”

The smile he sees, stretching his lips, isn’t a happy one; it’s flat, barely a twitch, not reaching his eyes and making his face glow with resignation.

“Of course you’d say that. You always do whatever you want.”

***

Sylvain dunks his entire head into the river and wishes he could wash away the bloodied memories from his mind as well.The freezing water does nothing to draw him out of his torpor—it keeps him stranded on a single thought he will never be able to discard, haunting him until the day he dies.

Two hands grab his shoulders and yank him backwards, forcing him to furiously blink to get the water out of his eyes. He shakes his head, sending more droplets all around him like he was a drowning dog.

“Damn it, Sylvain, stop that!” Felix growls.

Sylvain grins and flicks more water in Felix’s face. Felix punches his arm in retaliation.

“Ow, you’re no fun, Felix,” Sylvain whines.

“What do you think you were doing? Are you trying to freeze your brain?”

Felix is frowning, arms crossed over his chest, radiating tension and unease. He has been nothing but on edge for the past weeks. It’s surprising he’s still able to hold a conversation with anyone, and without spitting vitriol and fire, at that—Sylvain is well aware of how Felix can get at this stage of the war.

“Well, if I freeze my brain I can’t have dilemmas over what I want to eat for dinner, and I think it’s very sad,” Sylvain says, tone light. “Oh wait, that means I’ll be able to think with my dick.”

Felix keeps glaring at him. He’s more stubborn, this time. It wasn’t so difficult to make him drop a subject, before. Sylvain rubs his neck, unable to meet Felix’s eyes (what kind of irony is this?).

“We’re marching on Tailtean Plains tomorrow, so I was cooling off,” he admits.

The weather has been terrible for the past month; even for Faerghus, the Great Tree Moon is considered a rather pleasant moon, with rays of sunshine lasting longer than a few hours a day. But this year, rain has been pouring, slowing their advance through the mud and the fog, grating on everyone’s nerves and chipping at their patience. Felix has been snappish and frustrated, not concealing his desire of looking forward to reaching their destination, and put the war behind them.

Sylvain knows this won’t end well. They haven’t engaged in battle yet, but he knows that it’s doomed.

Felix stays quiet for a moment, then lets out a shaky exhale. “You need to focus.”

Sylvain bursts out laughing, startling Felix and those who are bathing next to him.

“Don’t worry, there’s no way I’ll lose focus,” he says. “I can’t lose focus, not now.”

Sylvain directs a smile at Felix; he doesn’t know what he looks like, but Felix is staring at him, eyes wide and shining like he’s facing a complex problem that he can’t solve by swinging his sword at it, like he’s had the solution swept from under his feet at the last moment, and he can’t bring himself to think of another one. Sylvain tries his best to avoid putting this kind of expression on Felix’s face, so he aims at a bigger grin, but Felix stands up abruptly, and retreats to camp.

“Don’t lose yourself.” Sylvain thinks he hears as he watches Felix’s back getting farther and farther away.

The Tailtean Plains are drowning in a heavy rain that makes every step a struggle. They can’t see farther than two meters ahead; the sound of the rain blending with those of the weapons clashing, the soldiers yelling and the beasts howling create a cacophony ringing in Sylvain’s ears wherever he goes. Fighting in these conditions is pulling at his thin willpower to stay sane.

He spurs on his horse and doesn’t look anyone in the eye when he brandishes the Lance of Ruin to kill the Kingdom soldiers, like he was born for it. He paints the ground in red and cuts a path through those people he was once supposed to fight alongside with—he vaguely remembers his orders but he’s stopped listening to orders a long time ago.

Felix is like death itself on the battlefield. He’s a whirlwind of ferocity and grace, striking true with every thrust and never leaving an enemy alive in his quest for victory. He always looks forward.

Sylvain has the tendency to look everywhere except forward. That doesn’t mean he’s able to be on time.

He sees the archer notching an arrow at Felix’s back. Even on horseback, Sylvain won’t be able to reach him fast enough to protect him. His voice won’t carry far enough, and even if it does, it will be too late.

“Felix—!”

Felix’s body goes down just as Sylvain sees, on the other side, Dimitri approaching. Felix’s blood flows in-between the cracks of the earth. The rain on the Tailtean Plains drowns their screams and their blood and their tears.

Sylvain barks out a laugh, slapping a gloved hand on his forehead and dragging it down his face. Dimitri’s face is pinched, his gaze traveling from Sylvain to Felix, and from Felix to Sylvain. Ever so slowly, he readies his lance.

“There’s no fucking point,” Sylvain says, and the world goes white.

***

“Didn’t we establish that if you’re not strong enough, we can’t die together?”

“But Felix, you’re the one who’s too strong.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? How can anyone be too fucking strong?”

“If you’re too strong, you leave me behind.”

***

This Felix is different. His words are still coated with poison and his swordsmanship is still impeccable, but he’s less subtle about his intentions. He might kiss Sylvain like he represents his entire world, he might whisper sweet nothings into his ear, and he might tell him he will protect him, Sylvain knows that someone else will always be his priority.

This Felix will drop his sword if he thinks this is the only solution he’s left with. He will run and cross the whole battlefield to fulfill his duty, to make sure he isn’t fighting in vain. This Felix is more transparent about his desire to change Faerghus, and to change Faerghus he needs to ensure that the right person sits on the throne.

Sylvain, in this universe, will always be second to Dimitri.

Gronder Field burns, swallowing corpses and ideals alike. Sylvain knew something would go wrong; he always knows when something will go wrong, but he never knows when something will go right. He watches as Felix moves towards Dimitri, like a flower drawn to its source of light, to fight alongside him.

This Felix forfeits his life and dies in Dimitri’s arms, because he believed in Dimitri.

Sylvain sinks on the ground, his forehead hitting the hard soil and smearing blood all over it, and he closes his mind.

***

“Don’t you think that sometimes we shouldn’t cling onto our principles so fiercely? It’s said that many people lose themselves to their ideals.”

“If they’re dumb enough to get killed because of stupid ideals, it’s their problem.”

“What if that ideal is growing old and dying in a bed with someone you love?”

“Is it Sylvain code for having sex?”

***

The first time Sylvain came face to face with Felix on the battlefield, on opposite sides of the war, he couldn’t bring himself to fight him.

Felix still died first.

***

Sylvain is letting his mouth devour Felix, pressing on his lips, on his jaw, going down on his collarbones then on his torso. He’s not stopping and he’s wishing this moment never ends, so that he will continue having Felix in his arms and not be forced to let him go. His hands are wandering and touching, caressing the skin of his back and of his thighs. The desperate and urgent nature of his moves don’t bleed into rough handling, though; Sylvain is careful and is treating Felix’s body like it is his personal sanctuary.

“Are you okay, Sylvain?”

Sylvain fears his words would transform into sobs if he speaks up. So he kisses Felix, relentlessly, absorbing everything from his scent to the curve of his mouth and the sounds his throat makes. He takes. He takes and takes, and stores it all into a corner of his mind, for him to assemble later as if he is piecing together the different parts of something that he can’t quite remember.

Felix responds to his kisses and touches, and stops asking questions. He’s become patient and less prone to lashing out—Sylvain knows this won’t help avoiding the inevitable threat looming over them.

Sylvain gets carried away by his worries and the comforting kindness he finds in Felix, and ends up being the weaker one, once again. He’s weak so he gets injured in his endeavor to protect Felix, because he’s not capable of achieving anything if it doesn’t involve his body, and Felix gets killed soon after when he’s protecting him.

***

“I...”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

“The future you envision... Am I included in it?”

“What kind of question is that? As if I could get rid of you.”

“It’s a promise, then? Living together, and dying together?”

“...It’s a promise.”

***

Felix follows Ingrid to join Claude’s class. Sylvain follows Felix.

Dimitri dies. No matter how tight Sylvain is holding Felix, no matter how pathetic he becomes as the days pass, he sees the way Felix is slipping away, drifting aimlessly without a purpose anchoring him to somewhere peaceful. Sylvain watches him slip between his fingers and disappear, going back on his word (he always goes back on his word, but he doesn’t remember, he never remembers), and leaves Sylvain behind.

All he can do is attach a memory of Felix on a sword he didn’t want.

***

When Felix gets deployed at Arianrhod, Sylvain begs Ingrid to switch place with him. She’s not pleased and neither is Dimitri, but they relent and tell him he has to be careful. Sylvain doesn’t answer them.

Their positions don’t allow them to fight side by side, so Sylvain spends their entire trip to the fortress telling Felix he loves him.

“You make it sound like we’re going to die.”

“I just felt the need to tell you I love you,” Sylvain says with a smile.

Felix snorts, but the curl of his lips is gentle and vulnerable, and he doesn’t resist when Sylvain pulls him into an all-consuming kiss. Sylvain feels himself breaking.

When he doesn’t see Felix or Rodrigue coming to back him up during the siege, Sylvain doesn’t bother ending the fight, exhaustion seeped into his bones, and he shatters the world.

***

“Do you think happiness is possible for people like us?”

“Everyone decides for themselves whether they can be happy or not.”

“Ah, so are you happy?”

“Maybe not now, but I’ll be eventually, probably. When the war ends.”

“Well then, we’d better survive so that you can find your happiness.”

“Yours, too. It’s a two-way street.”

***

Sylvain doesn’t believe in fate. He doesn’t believe in anything anymore. He’s a decaying soul inhabiting a body that won’t ever see the end of the war and the reconstruction of the world. Every fiber of his being has been pulled taut, and today is the day he snaps.

The Tailtean Plains wail and shriek. There is no energy left in Sylvain to continue this senseless battle with himself.

The glint in Felix’s eyes means he won’t back down. Good. Sylvain brandishes the Lance of Ruin and charges at Felix, summoning the power of his crest just as Felix makes his flash. The light of their crest is blinding and screeching. It’s wrong, so wrong, but Sylvain is tired.

Felix’s sword goes through the plates of his armor like ash, and Sylvain brings down his lance to pierce Felix’s flesh. Their gazes travel to look at each other, and Sylvain sees an entire world of possibilities in these molten eyes, but none of them will grant them what they are wishing for.

“It’s laughable, isn’t it...?”

Felix smiles weakly, and closes his eyes. Sylvain exhales slowly, finally feeling he isn’t racing against time anymore. It leaves him unsatisfied and empty, like he’s forgetting something essential, but he is free. His mind drifts elsewhere, and slams the door shut.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Felix wakes up in yet another body, a new promise brushing his lips; but these promises never amount to anything, because he’s forced to eventually break them.

#fe3h #sylvix #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #exploring the extent of someone's love through time loops is always fun

[raleighcarrera]

cliché

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

an au where everyone is college friends and logan is getting married and the best friend of his ellie always hated is going to be logan’s best man. as the maid of honor, she’s probably expected to be at least a little nice to him. 

for @rodappreciationweek, of course! day 7/wild card

(spoiler alert: i bent the rules of weddings for plot reasons so go easy)

tags: @choicesarehard, @lovehugsandcandy, @pixeljazzy, @troublemakerinspace, @dancingboba, @yaushie, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @tempesrature, @zigtheeortega, @beccadavenport, @theeccentricbibliophile 

~15.5k words | M (18+)

she squealed, clapping her hands excitedly in view of the laptop’s webcam. “i’m so happy for you guys! seriously, this is amazing.”

from across the country, ingrid beamed, still holding her left hand aloft so ellie could see her ring. “did you know?”

ellie shook her head. “i knew he’d bought a ring but i didn’t know he was proposing now.” her attention turned to logan, “i thought you were waiting until your anniversary?”

he shrugged, looking just as excited as ingrid did. “i couldn’t wait anymore, it was driving me crazy.”

ingrid leaned her head on logan’s shoulder. “ellie, say you’ll be my maid of honor.”

“oh my god, of course i will!” ellie gushed, blinking away a sudden wave of emotion. “please, you guys know i’d do anything for you.”

the two of them exchanged a glance. “glad to hear you say that,” logan said slowly, “because i already asked colt to be my best man.”

the smile dropped off her face. “are you kidding me?”

“come on, it won’t be that bad,” ingrid rushed to assure her, “you’ll hardly have to deal with him. but -- while we’re breaking bad news to you...” she pursed her lips, and then shrugged. “we already set a date, too.”

“it’s in three months,” logan interjected helpfully.

ellie felt her eyes bug out. “three months?”

“el, we got our dream venue,” ingrid sighed wistfully, “you’re going to die when you see it. it was the only saturday they had available for, like, the next five years. it’s in santa monica overlooking the water and it’s just -- it’s perfect.”

“that’s really soon,” she said dumbly, “we have a lot to do.”

“totally.” ellie watched as ingrid shifted from blushing bride in love to ruthless, no-nonsense delegator. “we’re going to cram as much of it in as we can when you’re home for spring break. i already made us appointments to go look at dresses and tuxes and then -- we’ll figure everything else out when you’re here.”

the thought of spending her spring break shopping with colt kaneko was already making a headache start to throb behind her eyes. but ingrid and logan were her best friends. and they deserved the wedding of their dreams.

she pasted the biggest, most extreme smile she could muster on her face. “sounds great, you guys.”

*

ellie relished the long flight home from new york to los angeles, well aware that it was probably going to be the last moment she had to relax until the end of the summer. 

there had to be some irony in the fact that she was midway through pursuing her ph.d and more stressed out about her college friends’ wedding than anything else. 

but her coursework was going well. everything in her life was falling into place perfectly, exactly how she’d always envisioned it. 

this was the wrench in the plan. how she was supposed to make time to come back home for ingrid and logan’s wedding when she’d already committed to spending her summer in miami doing field work was a problem she didn’t need.

so she spent the flight napping, enjoying the five hours in the air as the only chance she’d get to kick back during her spring break. if she knew ingrid at all, she was going to be barking orders from the moment ellie’s feet touched orange county soil until the second they left. 

still, there were at least a few hours she could spend delaying the inevitable.

riya picked her up at the airport and ellie threw herself into her arms eagerly for a giant hug. “oh my god, i am so glad to see you. thank you for picking me up -- i pretty much have bridal boot camp all week.”

“ingrid’s got it all planned out, huh?” riya asked, helping her get her suitcase in the car with a grin. “look, it probably won’t be that bad. you’re you -- when darius and i got married you were the reason we didn’t even need a wedding planner!”

“that was different,” ellie explained, as riya started driving them back to the city, “you and darius are normal. maid of honor doesn’t mean the same thing to ingrid that it meant to you, trust me.”

“well, i believe in you,” her oldest friend declared, “and even if it’s awful, just come over afterwards and we can drown ourselves in wine.”

“done and done,” she sighed. “i’m sorry i probably won’t be around much this week otherwise. i know it’s been forever since we caught up.”

“please, i can’t even imagine how busy you are,” riya said, waving her apology off, “you’re getting close to the home stretch, eh?”

ellie shrugged. “i still have two more years of study, but -- yeah, pretty much. it’s crazy.”

“so crazy,” riya agreed, “but you will absolutely see me and dare in miami as soon as you get set up there.”

the thought of it, with everything she knew was ahead of her this week, sounded like nothing short of paradise. “can’t wait,” she said genuinely, sighing as the car slowed to a stop in front of the house she’d grown up in. “wanna come in and say hi to my dad?”

“uh uh,” riya chided, “i’m done being the buffer between you two. sooner or later, you’re going to have to have that long overdue heart-to-heart.”

“okay, dr. phil,” ellie groaned, “thanks a lot.” her phone lit up with a text from ingrid as soon as she closed the car door. 

be at your house in 5 it said, pulling a sigh of relief from deep within her. 

saved by the bell.

*

ellie only had a moment to drop her bags and shout a quick hello to her dad before she heard a car horn honk and rushed back outside, leaning over the car’s center console to give ingrid a big hug hello. 

“boy, am i ever glad to see you,” her friend said. “everything is already such a disaster. the venue is giving me such an attitude about moving our ceremony outside and my sister is an out of control diva who is, like, demanding to be allowed to read a poem before we say our vows and -- i swear i’ve almost killed logan at least twice.”

“wow. okay, well -- all of that sounds fixable.” though already she knew the next three months were going to be nothing like the ramp up to riya and darius’ wedding. ellie stifled a sigh. 

“oh, it will be,” ingrid threatened darkly, “we’re doing everything at once today. dresses -- tuxes -- groomsmen, bridesmaids. i tried being nice about it, but do you know what i realized? some people don’t deserve to be allowed to make their own decisions. so i changed our appointment and i’m going to supervise and everyone who acts normal will be allowed to come help me pick out my dress at our new appointment on wednesday.”

ellie blinked. “whatever you want,” she said finally, her brain still working to process what the hell she was talking about, “it’s your day.”

“yes it is,” ingrid agreed viciously, “i’m glad you’re on board. come on.”

ellie followed behind her into the boutique they’d arrived at, immediately catching sight of eight or so of their closest friends from college, plus logan’s cousin and ingrid’s sister, the latter who was staring at a long, pink dress with her arms crossed petulantly over her chest. “i’m not trying that on,” she said, as ellie stepped closer, “it’s going to accentuate my shoulders.”

“look, brat,” ingrid started, lowering her voice to the dangerous timbre ellie had come to associate with group project members who weren’t pulling their own weight, “get in that dressing room and put this on right now or so help me god --”

“ellie!” 

she turned around and saw logan, the distressed look on her face instantly melting into one of relief. “oh my god, hi,” she laughed, rushing over for a hug, “it’s so good to see you!”

“hey, back at you,” he grinned, “seriously, i know this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your spring break, but -- thank god you’re here. ingrid needs all the help she can get.”

ellie pulled out of his arms and saw that he was wearing an elegant black tuxedo, the lines of which settled nicely on his shoulders and seemed to suit him perfectly. “okay, but -- this is a great tux.” she called out to ingrid over her shoulder. “come look at this one.”

ingrid walked over and gave logan a cursory glance. “i hate it. get changed.”

logan shot her an amused glance, but dipped back into the dressing room without a word. bless him, ellie thought, before drawing in a deep breath and asking, “okay, where do you want me?”

as if on cue, a harried shop attendant immediately dropped a pile of gowns into ellie’s arms. “follow me.”

*

the first dress she tried on was bright pink and heavily ruffled -- so ugly she honestly didn’t even want to show everyone. 

but she hitched up the skirt and stepped out of the dressing room obligingly, standing in front of the mirrors and the rest of the bridal party for ingrid’s judgment.

you have the ideal body type, ingrid had explained nonsensically to her as they herded her off with the gowns, so you’ll try on all of them and then once we find one we like everyone else will try it on, too. 

ugh. “it’s not... that bad,” ellie said delicately, once she was situated on the platform in front of the group.

“not if you’re little bo peep.” 

god. she’d know that smug, arrogant, self-centered, self-obsessed, narcissistic egomaniac voice anywhere.

“hi, colt,” ellie said pointedly, without turning her head, “nice to see you, too.”

he stepped closer, directly into her field of vision. there was no avoiding looking at him, then. 

colt was just as handsome as he’d been the last time she’d seen him, over a year ago at logan’s twenty-fifth birthday party, but this time, he was in a navy blue tux that had no business looking as good as it did. 

he smirked at her. “as if anyone could miss you in that thing.”

ellie sighed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. formalwear could only go so far when it came to making him appear tolerable, it seemed. “do you always have to be the most insufferable person in every room you’re in?”

“not always, no. but i like to win.”

“it’s disgusting,” ingrid declared abruptly, before ellie could snap back at him, “please take it off. can you try on the purple one next?”

she ducked back into the dressing room, thunking her head softly against the wall once the door swung shut behind her. why me, ellie thought miserably, i’m a good person. this isn’t fair.

it took two and a half hours, but eventually, she’d tried on what felt like every single dress at the store. finally, once she’d wiggled into a gown that was a soft, sky blue, figure-hugging with thin straps and delicate lace accents over tasteful cut-outs, ingrid gasped, “that’s it! that’s the one.”

every bridesmaid, including ellie, sagged with relief. “great,” she smiled, “i’ll just get out of the way so everyone else can try theirs on, too.”

just before she stepped back inside the dressing room to get changed, she caught sight of colt, who was still standing around on their side of the shop for some reason. he was staring at her, face carefully blank -- though there was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite place.

as soon as he noticed she’d caught him looking, he stormed off.

once ellie was back in her street clothes, ingrid said, “i’ll finish up over here. can you please go make sure the guys are on the right track?”

ellie winced as she approached the men’s side of the store. half of logan’s groomsmen were dressed in navy, the other half in black -- logan had a white jacket on and one of their friends from college, brent, was inexplicably wearing pants that were powder blue.

“oh my god, ingrid’s going to kill you,” she said to logan. “i can see why she sent me over here to babysit.”

“hey, i’ve got it sort of under control,” logan said defensively, “she said she wanted slate grey. look at this.”

ellie cringed again as he held a jacket on a hanger aloft in front of her eyes. “that’s charcoal grey.”

the determined look on logan’s face crumpled immediately. “fuck. can you help me?”

she was already nodding before he finished his question. “just -- get in there and get that off before anyone sees. i’ll pull tuxes for everyone.”

it was only a few minutes before she was passing out new outfits, herding each of logan’s groomsmen into their respective dressing rooms one by one. 

only one of them gave her any trouble about it. as soon as she passed him his tux, colt scowled, asking, “what is this?”

“a tuxedo,” she answered tersely, “presumably you’ve seen one before? like, an hour ago? those are all called tuxedos. maybe you never learned the word?”

he merely rolled his eyes at her. “why are you giving it to me?”

“because i want you to put it on. now. like, immediately.” 

still, he just stood there. “i already tried on forty of them.”

“then one more shouldn’t make much of a difference.” she shoved his shoulder expectantly. “go.”

ingrid wandered over just as they all started to emerge. as they stood in a line outside the dressing room, she laid a hand to her heart and gasped. “oh my god, they’re perfect. baby, you did such a good job!”

“actually --” logan started, though he stopped abruptly as soon as he caught sight of the way ellie was frantically shaking her head from behind ingrid’s back, “uh, thanks. i want everything to be perfect for you.”

“oh my god, you guys can do something right,” ingrid sniffed, “i’m so happy. okay -- fuck it, let’s go get drinks. i’ll get the first round.”

*

a few of their friends cornered her as soon as she got her first drink. it was the same every time she came home; everyone wanted to know how new york was, how school was going, what the dating pool was like on the east coast and if she’d met anyone. they asked the same questions every time ellie was able to make it out so they could catch up, and she gave the same answers.

it was exhausting. she gulped down her glass of wine as quickly as humanly possible, just so she could have an excuse to escape back to the bar. 

the bartender slid her a shot when he passed her refilled wine glass back to her. his smile was sympathetic. “you look like you need this.”

ellie grimaced at him, but immediately lifted the shot to her lips and knocked it back. “that obvious?”

“oh, yeah.” he placed his palms on the bar top and leaned in close, grinning brightly at her. “let me guess. family reunion?”

“worse,” she sighed, “two of my best friends from college are getting married. in three months.”

he whistled, slowly shaking his head. “brutal. i don’t think we have enough alcohol in the bar to help you with that.”

“tell me about it,” ellie laughed, taking a sip from her wine glass to chase away the burn of the shot she’d done, “you don’t even know the half of it.”

“well...” he smiled charmingly at her again. “my shift is over in twenty minutes. i’ll gladly listen to you complain, if you want.”

she blinked. “oh, i --”

“hey, don’t look now, but that guy over there has the angriest eyebrows i’ve ever seen.” the bartender leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “boyfriend?”

“what?” ellie turned around and followed the line of his gaze. 

sure enough, colt was glaring at them from the booth with the rest of their friends, his eyebrows drawn together thunderously. 

“oh my god, no,” she said, turning back around as quickly as possible, “never. we don’t even like each other.”

“right. well -- listen. if you do wanna pick this up some other time, here’s my number, okay? no pressure.” 

she watched, dumbfounded, as he wrote it down on a cocktail napkin, printing his name evenly below it. ben. 

all the girls cheered for her when she got back to the table.

“is that a phone number?” julia demanded, her grin wide and wickedly sharp. she reached over and plucked the napkin out of her hand. “jesus, ellie. you’ve been back in the city for, what, an afternoon?”

“give it,” she said, stepping forward as the rest of the girls passed it around the table, out of her reach, “oh my god, he was just being nice.”

“no, please,” gemma laughed, holding the napkin up over her head, “tell us again how you’re too busy to date.”

“i am too busy to date.” she bounced up on her toes and snatched the cocktail napkin out of her friend’s hand, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of her jeans. “and i live across the country, remember?”

“hey, that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun while you’re home this week, right?” brent asked, making her aware, all at once, that the guys were officially clued into their conversation, too. “speaking of, ryan moore keeps asking me about you.”

beyond brent’s shoulder, colt was still staring at her. he looked tense, his grip firm on the glass in his hand. his jaw was clenched tight.

“can we talk about something else?” ellie asked finally, lifting her wine glass to her flushed cheek. “my love life can’t be that interesting to you guys.”

logan reached out and ruffled her hair. “hey, you’re our last single friend. you can’t blame us for being invested.”

“colt’s single,” she reminded him, before she could bite her tongue. ellie risked another glance his way and found him scowling at her.

“colt doesn’t count,” ingrid interjected, “he doesn’t have any social skills. you are a catch. you just need to put yourself out there.”

“and i promise, once i have my ph.d, you can set me up with anyone you want.” a discussion they’d had at least a thousand times before. ingrid looked as pleased about it as she’d ever been, which was to say not very much at all. before she could respond, ellie continued, “hey, will someone please play pool with me? i haven’t shot in forever.”

to her surprise, colt offered, “i will.” ellie slowly turned towards him and found him smirking at her again. “who knows what’d happen to your virtue if you went over there alone?”

fucker. he’d probably volunteered to go with her on purpose -- now there was no way for her to get out of it. and if she stayed at the table for one minute longer she was going to scream.

her eyes narrowed at him. “thanks.”

colt set up the table like she wasn’t glaring at him bitterly, humming to himself while he racked the balls and then passed her a cue.

“you’re awful,” she said, as she snatched it out of his hands.

he just grinned at her. “thank you. break?”

ellie leaned over the table to line up her shot, knocking the cue into the balls. two of the solids slid into the corner pockets. her hip leaned against the table as she watched him survey the setup critically, and she took advantage of the fact that his eyes were elsewhere to study him in turn, making note of what was different about him since the last time they’d seen each other.

he’d recently gotten a haircut, but was otherwise unchanged -- he wore the same leather jacket, had the same smug smile, was still so insufferably arrogant she found talking to him pretty much impossible.

“so, what’s your deal?” he asked suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts and knocking the striped number eleven ball smoothly into one of the side pockets, “you a rocket scientist or whatever yet?”

ellie rolled her eyes, trying not to flush when he lifted his head and looked directly at her. despite his many, many flaws, she’d always found him unnervingly hot. “my degree is in chemistry. so -- no. i still have two more years in the program.”

“yeah, but what are you going to do with it? once you’re a doctor.” even the way he said the word sounding mocking. 

she ignored him in favor of focusing on the table, and knocked one of her balls in. once it was his turn to shoot, she answered, “if you need to know, my specialization is in environmental science. one day i’ll hopefully work alongside some of the best in the world to ensure environmental hazards are at an all time low.”

“so whaddya moving to miami for?” he asked, effortlessly sinking two balls into the pocket at once, “their environment is already pretty sweet.”

“the department is sending me to collect data from the water and air outside of the city,” she answered, her eyes on the table as she tried to locate her next best shot, “it’s for my dissertation. it’s only for the summer.”

“shame,” colt murmured, laughing under his breath when her next shot went wide, missing her target completely, “i’ll be stuck dealing with this mess on my own.”

“somehow i doubt that,” ellie said, “it’s only a timezone change. there’s still phones and video calls and plenty of ways for all of you to bother me.”

“only if you pick up.” smoothly, he sunk the last three striped balls, one after another. she scowled at him. “the way the rest of them talk about how hard you are to pin down you’d think you were the president or something.”

“i have a demanding course load,” she huffed out defensively, “so we should get started on planning their bachelor and bachelorette party before my flight back on sunday. that should be the only thing that’s still up in the air after all our appointments this week.”

“don’t even get me started on the concept of a joint bachelor party,” colt sighed, leaning over in front of the eight ball, “it’s going to be the lamest trip of all time. side pocket.”

“i don’t know,” ellie murmured, resting on her cue as the eight ball sailed effortlessly into the side pocket as indicated, “i think it’ll be fun.”

he straightened up and smirked at her, spreading his hands out wide as if to say look at me. what an asshole. “you would.” colt nodded at the table. his smirk lengthened. “looks like you still suck.”

ellie shoved her pool cue back into his open hand. “one thing you’ll never know,” she promised, spinning on her heel and striding back to the table as quickly as possible.

*

“thanks for all your help today,” ingrid said sweetly on the drive home. “i know it wasn’t easy -- dealing with my idiot sister and all of those guys.”

“colt was as terrible as ever,” she mused, officially thinking too much about it. “i don’t know how he never gets tired of himself. he is such a prick.”

“totally,” ingrid agreed, even though ellie knew she’d softened to him, lately -- though she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand why or how. “but he just picks on you because he likes you.”

ellie lifted her head from where it’d been leaning against the passenger side window and turned towards ingrid with a look of confusion contorting her expression. “what? no.”

“yes,” she insisted, “he’s wanted to bang you since freshman year.”

“okay -- you’re too drunk to be driving,” ellie laughed, though even she could hear the undercurrent of nerves in the tone of her voice, “he’s an asshole to everyone. it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“well, he sure doesn’t talk to me like he talks to you.”

ellie waved her hand dismissively. “because you and logan have been dating for, like, a hundred years. i’m positive he’s just as big a dick to gemma and julia and christie.”

“okay,” ingrid mouthed, arching her eyebrows at the road. 

she furrowed her brow. “he is.”

“forget i said anything,” ingrid said breezily as the car slowed to a stop in front of her dad’s house. “i’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine, okay? seriously, thanks again for all your help.”

“anytime.” 

dread filled her stomach as ellie dragged her feet up the path to the house. all the lights were on inside, which meant her dad was still awake. “hey pumpkin,” he greeted her, as soon as she toed off her shoes and dropped her bag, “long day?”

“you have no idea.” ellie walked straight to the sofa and flung herself down onto it face-first, groaning into the cushions. for a moment, it felt like she was back in high school, without a care in the world other than coursework and group projects and prom. she drew in a deep breath. “planning this wedding is going to be a headache.”

“you’ll pull through,” her dad assured her, “you always do.”

ellie pressed her forehead to the fabric of the couch and scowled, the freedom of her hair covering her face allowing her to express how she really felt. that was what everyone always said: she’d be fine. she’d figure it out. she’d make it happen.

part of her was so tired of always bending over backwards, always finding a way to make things work -- always being perfect. 

some first day back it was shaping up to be.

“i guess,” she mumbled, letting herself sulk for one more long moment before finally lifting her head and sitting up straight. “are you working tonight?”

“yep -- on my way out now. glad i caught you, though. i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever.” 

she winced, turning away from the disappointment in his eyes. “ingrid has a pretty full schedule for us this week, but maybe we can have dinner tomorrow.”

“sure thing,” her dad said brightly, pausing by the couch on his way out the door to gently grasp her shoulder. “i’ll see you in the morning, then. hang in there, kid.”

ellie slumped back into the couch, watching him go blankly. half of her was so exhausted she couldn’t imagine doing anything other than collapsing into bed for as long as humanly possible, but the other half of her still felt anxious and unsettled, the way she always did whenever she had to come home. 

being back in los angeles always felt like losing control of her life. there was something about being around her old friends and her dad and other people’s expectations that made her feel not like herself -- like some kind of persona she was putting on so everyone would perceive her a certain way.

so she could look like she had everything figured out, so everyone would keep saying you’ll pull through. you’ll figure it out. you’ll make it happen.

the thought of keeping it all up for an entire week of wedding activity with ingrid and their college friends was daunting. worse still was ingrid and logan’s engagement party on friday night, hanging over her head as the last obstacle between her and her flight home to the solace of her silent new york apartment, where she’d be able to analyze soil samples in peace until her mind was quiet again.

*

the week passed by in a blur. true to form, ingrid kept her busy for a majority of her waking moments with dress shopping, fittings, a trip to the venue, the florist and the bakery and, finally, last-minute preparations for friday’s engagement party, which left ellie tying ribbons around party favors late into the night on thursday.

“i could kill logan,” she complained to riya in the middle of the one free hour she’d been able to steal away for a mani-pedi, “i swear to god i’ve been playing the part of the fiance since i got back.”

“it’ll all be over soon,” riya hummed sympathetically, “the wedding will be here before you know it.”

as she dressed for the engagement party, she repeated the words to herself over and over again in the mirror. it’ll all be over soon.

she arrived at the venue early. the first person she saw after she stepped out of her rideshare was colt, who was loitering by the entrance to the restaurant, smoking. 

“some dress,” he smirked at her as soon as she got close enough to hear him, not even bothering to pretend like he wasn’t looking her up and down, “you trying to get laid tonight?”

“you know, ‘hello’ works just fine, too,” she said, pushing past him without a backwards glance. her face felt hot as she considered the comment, looking down at herself self-consciously. fuck him. i look nice.

fortunately, the party itself was less exhausting than she’d expected it to be. it was actually sort of nice to catch up with people she hadn’t seen since they’d graduated, and though she had to run through the familiar talk track she was getting sick of over and over again -- how’s school? how’s new york? what are your plans for after your thesis? -- the open bar made her hate it all a little less. 

eventually things started to wind down, until it was late and only the wedding party was left. ellie teetered in her heels as she pretended to help ingrid clean up, shuffling around as inconspicuously as she could manage, given the drinks she’d had.

“are you drunk?” 

she jumped, startled by the question. ellie’s lips pulled down into a frown as she noticed the out-and-out delighted expression on colt’s smug face from where he was suddenly standing next to her.

“no,” she lied, “and shhh. someone will hear you.”

“god forbid.” the shit eating grin on his face stretched further. “you want a ride home?”

ellie blinked. “from you?”

colt wasn’t at all deterred by the high arch of her eyebrows. he shrugged. “if we get out of here now we can probably avoid carrying presents to the car.”

that was all it took to convince her. she followed him out to the parking lot with a laugh, drawing up short when he stopped her in front of his motorcycle. she propped a hand on her hip and asked, “you still ride this thing?”

“it’s part of my image,” he answered, and as he came closer ellie found herself staring at the gentle slope of the smirk on his face. maybe it was the low lighting of the parking lot, but he looked a little softer than he had all week -- almost like when she’d first met him, in college, before he opened his mouth to say something rude and their relationship devolved into exchanged barbs and sidelong glares. 

colt cleared his throat, looking down at the helmet in his hands. “here.”

she flushed, pulling it on as quickly as possible in the hopes that it’d cover her face before he noticed. 

in all the years she’d known him she’d never actually gotten on the back of this thing. she’d seen him pull up to parties and speed away from them with plenty of girls holding onto his stomach, but she’d never actually thought she’d be one of them herself.

the bottle of wine she’d had was making it seem like no big deal, though, so she pressed up snugly behind him and rested her cheek on his shoulder like they’d done this enough times to form a habit.

and then they were back at her dad’s house, so quickly that ellie was almost sad about it. colt was actually mostly alright when he was quiet -- the speed of the bike hardly facilitated conversation -- and he was warm and solid against her while he drove, comforting her to the point that she was half asleep when they finally stopped.

she slid off the bike with a yawn, clumsily yanking the helmet off and handing it back to him. “thanks,” she murmured, glancing at the house and cringing once she realized all the lights were still on, meaning her dad was waiting up for her again. ellie lingered silently beside him, fidgeting. 

colt hesitated. after a moment, he killed the engine. he pulled his own helmet off so she could see his face. “you okay?”

“yeah.” she pursed her lips, then exhaled, blowing a messy lock of hair out of her eyes. “i guess i am a little drunk.”

his lips pulled back into that stupid, familiar smirk. “i know. i saw you guzzling chardonnays back there.” 

ellie leaned in over the handlebars. “stalk me much?”

“you wish.” 

movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye and ellie sighed as she saw the curtains shift. colt followed her gaze to the house, then turned back towards her with an eyebrow quirked.

“is there a reason you’re still standing here?”

she rolled her eyes at him. “it’s complicated.”

he laughed. it was after midnight, and the sleepy street she’d grown up on was completely silent and dark, save for that sound. “don’t tell me little miss perfect has daddy issues.”

“what, you thought you had the monopoly on them?” she shot back, too drunk to stop herself.

surprise flashed across his expression for a split second before he laughed again. “touché,” he murmured, “i probably deserved that.” 

ellie still didn’t move, standing at the front of the bike. they stared at each other, silence hanging in the air between them. it had to be the longest amount of time they’d gone without arguing since their freshman year. 

that felt like a lifetime ago, but she still remembered what she’d thought when they first met at orientation. 

cute, and then, once she found out that he was in the honors college like her, and smart, and eventually, once he opened his mouth, but a jerk. 

“what are you staring at?” he asked finally, and though he was difficult to read on even her best day, when she had one-hundred percent of her faculties intact, she was pretty sure there was no malice in his voice -- just genuine curiosity.

“nothing. you’re being weird.”

he laughed again. it took her a moment to realize why it sounded so different than it usually did; most of the time he was laughing at her. but not tonight. “no i’m not.”

“yes you are.”

“okay -- you’re trashed. do you need me to walk you inside?” 

all the lights were still on. yeah, that was just what she needed. the thought of colt and her father coming face-to-face made her own mouth curve into a grin. “no. but thanks for driving me home. that was almost decent of you.”

“well, i’d hate to be fully decent.” even his smile was different when he wasn’t making fun of her. 

ellie forced herself to take a step away, though it was difficult -- some strange magnetic pull seemed to want to keep her in his orbit, to see if she could maybe make him laugh softly at her again. 

as soon as she stepped back, the bike roared to life, though he didn’t pull out of the street until she’d wobbled all the way up the path to the front door and turned back to wave at him.

huh, she thought to herself as she ducked inside, wine-drunk acid swirling in her stomach with something else unidentifiable along for the ride, weird.

it wasn’t until she was tucked in bed that she privately acknowledged to herself, nice, though, too.

*

as expected, ingrid filled the weeks after her spring break with questions and complaining and dozens of skype calls.

ellie did her best to balance it all with school, which was ramping up as they got closer to the end of term, and packing for her move to miami, though on any given day she felt torn in at least ten different directions while she struggled to get everything together. 

the sound of another incoming facetime call was going to haunt her nightmares. with a groan, ellie fumbled for her phone blindly, not taking her eyes off the instant noodles slowly spinning in her microwave. 

“what now?”

“hello to you, too,” said a voice that definitely wasn’t ingrid’s, and ellie turned her head to see colt staring at her expectantly from the screen of her phone, jolting both from the surprise of seeing him and the sound of the microwave going off. 

“colt?” she blinked, suddenly aware that she was in her pajamas and tugging self-consciously at the cropped tank top she was wearing. “what do you want?”

“we have to go over some things for the bachelor party,” he sighed, and when he shifted she saw that he was reclining in bed. her face flushed.

“bachelor and bachelorette party,” she corrected.

“whatever. is now a good time?”

ellie cast a glance around her apartment, which looked like a tornado had recently swept through it. her kitchen table was covered in textbooks and pages of notes, though the living room had half-packed boxes covering every available surface. “i guess. one second.”

she set her phone down to retrieve her instant noodles and then leaned it up against her toaster, standing in front of the counter to both stay in her phone’s field of view and shovel noodles into her mouth as quickly as possible.

“seriously?” colt said, “isn’t it ten p.m. where you are?”

“i’ve been busy,” ellie answered defensively, between bites, “some of us have lives.”

he rolled his eyes. “did you book your flight yet?”

she paused, fork halfway to her lips. had she booked her flight yet? “i think so.” ellie pursed her lips, and then remembered, “yes! it gets in at seven. i’ll meet you guys at the hotel.”

“okay. the rest of us are driving down together, god help us all.” he scowled.

“relax. it’s only, like, four hours to vegas, anyway.” she was the one who was going to lose two entire days to travel and timezone changes. 

“do you want to sit in a car for four hours with everyone?” he smirked at the look that crossed her face. “i didn’t think so. how are the dinner reservations coming along?”

“good,” she nodded. at least she’d remembered to do that. “we’re all set for friday and saturday night. we can walk to both restaurants from the hotel.”

colt had been adamant about planning everything else, and she’d been all too happy to let him take the reigns. the last thing she needed to worry about was getting them into nightclubs and securing bottle service and busting her ass only for him to ultimately turn his nose up at it and declare the whole thing lame. 

“that should be everything, then.” she just barely saw the way he narrowed his eyes at her when she tipped her head back to get the last of the styrofoam cup of noodles down her throat. “except for whatever girly shit you have planned.”

“hey, you’re going to have to be the one to tell logan that your bad attitude is what got all of you excluded from mani-pedis and facials,” she shrugged, resting her elbows on the counter and leaning in toward the screen. “just so you can do what on saturday? smoke cigars and play darts?”

“someone has to draw the line somewhere,” he said, revisiting the argument they’d had at least four or five times since she was home the month before. 

“you’re impossible,” she sighed, her mouth stretching with a wide yawn. ellie pulled a face at herself, shaking her head. she had at least another two hours of coursework to do once they hung up. 

“you’re the one who looks about ten seconds away from combusting,” he smirked. “you can say no to things, you know.”

“i’m fine,” she insisted, “and i do say ‘no’ to things. when i have to.”

“right. it’s not like we haven’t known each other for eight years or anything.” 

ellie rolled her eyes at him, her cheeks still flushed red. like he’d paid attention to anyone other than himself and whatever girl he was fucking when they were in college. “everything’ll calm down after the wedding.”

“whatever you say,” he shrugged, “just don’t miss your flight to vegas, okay? i’m going to need someone to talk to who doesn’t make me want to blow my brains out.”

what? colt hung up just as she opened her mouth to respond, leaving ellie staring at her phone background in confusion. 

she took one last glance around her apartment, slowly trailing her eyes over the dishes in the sink, the schoolwork on her kitchen table, the piles of shoes that had to be bubble-wrapped and boxed up in her living room.

then ellie turned on her heel and headed off to bed. for once, it felt pretty fucking good to do the wrong thing. 

*

when her flight got in she sent logan a long, detailed text with all the information he could possibly need -- what time her rideshare was going to get to the hotel and how much time she was going to need to get up to the room and get changed -- and asked where she should meet everyone when she was done. 

his response was two short words. casino. craps. typical.

she rushed to get into her dress and get some makeup on and found everyone standing around the same table when she got downstairs. of course, the only available space was just to colt’s left. ellie squeezed in with a grin. “hi!”

“hey, you made it!” eager cheers from around the table greeted her and the tight hugs she was forced into let her know that she had a backlog a few drinks deep to catch up on. 

when she turned back around, colt shoved his hand in her face. there was a pair of dice sitting in his palm. “blow,” he said, staring at her expectantly. 

“excuse me?”

“blow,” he repeated, smirking at her, “it’s for luck.”

“i’m not going to --”

“come on, ellie,” logan grinned, “he’s up, like, two thousand dollars. you have to!”

“this is so demeaning,” she grumbled, but pursed her lips and blew on the dice as requested. colt stared at her the entire time, not even breaking eye contact to roll.

it was only when the croupier said, “another easy eight,” and the table broke out into cheers that he looked away, directing his gaze down at the stack of chips that was pushed over to him. 

“okay, what’s the next one?” he asked, taking the dice into his hand again.

“huh?”

“what am i rolling?”

“oh.” ellie glanced around the table and found everyone looking at her expectantly. “seven.”

“okay, any seven.” colt shook the dice in his hand, then held them out to her again. “come on.”

she leaned in a little closer. “you know, i’d love a drink at some point.”

“if we get this one i’ll find you a whole bottle of dom,” he promised. “blow.”

ellie blew on the dice. she grabbed colt’s arm anxiously as they waited for them to land.

they did, a moment later. she craned her neck and saw them facing up, over the line -- five and two.

all the noise they were making was starting to draw a crowd. ellie found herself sharing a grin with colt when he looked back at her again.

“another seven,” she instructed, head already bowed towards his hand.

he rolled a three and a four. the people gathering around the table were enraptured.

she blew on the dice again. a one and a six.

the forearm of his jacket had indents where her hand kept grabbing at it frantically, but colt never showed any outward signs of nervousness. if anything, he seemed to get more and more excited as ellie called out the numbers and he rolled them, one after another -- an eight. a six. a ten. another seven.

“holy shit, that’s twenty thousand dollars,” ingrid breathed finally, her mouth open in shock.

colt picked the stack of chips up, nodding at the roulette table behind them. “come on.”

“where are we going?” ellie asked, but followed him to the table anyway, her heart racing. all of their friends fell in line around them, hushed. 

“we’re gonna double it,” he smirked. “red or black?”

“you’re going to bet it all?” her eyes went comically wide.

“ellie, red or black?”

everyone within hearing distance, including the attendant, was staring at her. she looked down at the table, and then at the screen, which was displaying the outcome of the last few rounds. her mind raced as she tried to calculate all the ways it could become more complex than just a fifty-fifty probability.

colt noticed her staring and shook his head at her. “just pick.”

“black,” she blurted out, and watched in horror as he dropped the entire stack of chips down onto her choice. “oh my god, i’m going to throw up.”

his arm wound around her waist as the ball dropped into the table and started to roll around. instead of recoiling, ellie held onto him in return, digging her nails into the fabric of his suit as she stared.

there was dead silence at the table when the ball dropped neatly into the slot.

“twenty-nine,” the dealer announced, smiling at the both of them. “black.”

sound exploded all around them. their friends were jumping all over colt and the table, clapping him on the back, cheering and screaming. the spectators who’d been watching them joined in, and ellie couldn’t stop a deliriously joyful laugh from escaping as she looked, beaming, from the stack of chips on the table to colt’s face.

he was already grinning at her, and reached out to shove her shoulder excitedly before pulling the chips off the board and towards their end of the table -- four stacks of ten.

logan pushed between them, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. “jesus christ. that was insane. way to make an entrance, el.”

“me?” she demanded incredulously, “what kind of person puts twenty thousand dollars on black?”

“what can i say,” colt shrugged, eyes still bright when they settled on her again, “i’m reckless.”

well, that was the understatement of the century. she slowly shook her head as the rest of the players at the table moved on to the next round. “i can’t believe that just happened.” 

colt reached out and grabbed her wrist, then unceremoniously dropped five chips into her palm. “here. your cut.”

ellie blinked down at her hand like she’d never seen a casino chip before. “five thousand dollars?”

“hey, all you did was blow on some dice.”

“no, i --” she shook her head, trying to shove the chips back onto his pile with a laugh, “you don’t need to do that. it was fun.”

he shrugged. ellie watched in surprise as colt smiled at her, fixated on the upturned corners of his mouth. “whatever. remember i did the next time you’re pissed at me.” 

colt walked off before she could try giving the money back to him again. she stared down at the chips in her hand for a moment, staring at all the zeroes that looked back up at her.

if what had just happened was any indication, it was probably going to be a strange weekend.

*

after dinner they went to a nightclub. her buzz was kicking in, so the lights and the music hardly bothered her as much as they might have on a normal night, and though she was loathe to admit it, colt had actually done a pretty nice job setting everything up. they had a booth to themselves and bottle service with sparklers, themed shots and props for both logan and ingrid -- sashes and buttons and crowns for the both of them.

seeing how happy everyone was made all the aggravation of the last six weeks worth it. before she knew it, she’d had more shots than was probably wise and her feet were killing her from dancing, leaving her flushed and sweaty when she stumbled back to the table.

as soon as she sat down, ingrid rushed over and grabbed her arm. “come on! i want to introduce you to a hot guy!”

“no,” ellie moaned, digging her heels into the booth while ingrid tried to drag her out of it, “stop, we’ve been dancing for hours. i need five minutes.”

“okay, but he’s so hot,” ingrid insisted, “and you could get laid tonight!”

“or we could just enjoy your bachelorette party!” she screamed back, over the music, “that’d be so fun, too.”

“oh my god, you’re impossible,” ingrid sighed, dropping down dramatically into the booth beside her. "look, he’s right over there.” 

ellie followed the line of her eyes and saw an admittedly very hot guy standing with a few of their friends. she lifted her hand and waved at him, and he smiled charmingly back at her, waving in return.

from behind her hand, when she pulled it in to cover her mouth, ellie said to ingrid, “he looks kind of stupid.”

“oh my god,” ingrid groaned again, “forget it. i’m done trying to set you up.”

before she could argue further, logan ran over to refill his drink and pulled ingrid back up to her feet, dragging her away from the booth and back onto the dance floor.

ellie watched them go, then turned her eyes to the half-full bottle of vodka in the ice bucket on the table. she was in the middle of trying to decide whether or not she was one drink away from puking when colt walked up to her.

“hey, loser. you wanna dance?” he asked, just as she made up her mind and reached for the bottle. he wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the music, but ellie could see the shape of his mouth make each word clearly, mostly because she tilted her head up to stare at him in complete confusion as soon as he got close. 

“with you?” 

“i thought you were supposed to be smart,” he said, and she recognized the easy grin on his face from dozens of late nights out with all their friends in college; he was drunk. “come on.”

she stumbled to her feet and followed him without thinking too much about it, even though there was no way their friends weren’t looking at them as they found a spot on the dance floor together. 

“you know how to dance?” ellie asked, blinking down at colt’s hands, which settled confidently on her waist, in absolute, total surprise, “since when?”

“since always,” he answered, lowering his mouth to her ear, “you just repress all my positive traits.”

“you don’t have any positive traits,” she shot back, though she gave in and wound her arms around his neck a moment later, letting him pull her in close.

“ouch,” colt murmured softly into her ear, and ellie sunk her teeth into her bottom lip at the low tone of his voice and its proximity. “that really hurts.”

her head tipped back to stare up at the flashing lights in the ceiling. colt didn’t say anything -- of course, he loved to get the last word -- and after a moment she forgot how utterly strange it was to be close to him at all and let herself enjoy the dance, smoothly moving her hips against his.

it was unnatural how natural it felt. she was dancing with colt kaneko -- it should have felt insane. they didn’t dance together. they didn’t get along. 

except that evidently they did, and she kind of liked it, too. 

when he dragged everyone out of the nightclub at three o’clock in the morning he wouldn’t tell them where they were going. even ellie was surprised to hear about a planned part two of the evening, though the way he seamlessly swiped a bottle of dom perignon from a table they passed on their way to the door and presented it to her as soon as they stepped back into the lobby of the hotel made her laugh with her whole body.

“you didn’t even pay for it,” she grinned, cradling it in her arms like a baby. 

he looked around, then started leading everyone down a side hallway. “i never said i would. hang on.”

logan caught on as soon as they all stopped in front of the fancy glass doors marked pool, and ellie kept watch at the end of the hallway while the two of them worked to get the door open. one by one, their friends filed quietly inside to the hotel’s closed indoor pool, giggling while they stripped out of their clothes.

“this feels illegal,” ellie said, while ingrid helpfully lowered the zip on her dress for her, “no?”

“it’s only a crime if you get caught,” logan answered, running past and jumping in the pool directly in front of where they were standing at its edge, splashing them both.

“oh, you’re in for it,” ingrid promised, jumping off after him. 

ellie self-consciously pulled her dress off the rest of the way, walking over to the steps and wading into the shallow end carefully. she swam out to join the rest of the group, head spinning from the drinks she’d had.

“hey.”

she turned around and came face-to-face with colt again, staring at what she could see of his bare chest, sticking out of the dark water before averting her eyes with a flush. “we’re totally all going to jail,” she said, apropos of nothing.

“that’s the plan,” colt returned, still smiling that easy, open smile. but he’d always been a lot more fun to hang out with when he was drunk. 

“why’re you being so nice to me?” ellie asked abruptly, reaching out to hold onto the pool wall and treading water to stay afloat in front of him. “it’s weird.”

colt laughed. his own arm braced on the side of the pool beside hers, and she looked over at the way the water slid of his muscles, her mouth suddenly dry. 

“guess i like the reactions i get,” he answered, effortlessly short-circuiting her brain as she tried to figure out what the fuck that was supposed to mean. “plus, it looks like you’re my good luck charm.”

“that was pretty crazy,” she acknowledged with a soft smile of her own, “i’ve never done anything like that before.” in fact, it’d been almost more excitement than she could handle.

“there’s so much i could show you.” 

the look in his eyes was intense -- searching. she wasn’t sure what to say, but fortunately the noise from the rest of their friends splashing around covered the too-loud pounding of her heartbeat as he stood there staring down at her.

it was the most alive she’d felt in months. before tonight, she hadn’t even thought she’d want a break from her routine -- from school, from her work, from everything that made her her.

wading in the pool now, with colt, all she wanted was more.

before she could find something to say, logan and brent swam by, kicking up water with a splash. “come on!” logan called out as a wave of chlorinated water hit her smack dab in the face, “we’re doing back flips.”

she forced her eyes down and swam off after them, hurrying to put some space between them. 

drunk as she was, it was a struggle to even stay afloat.

*

the semester wrapped up quickly; before she knew it, it was time to start shipping her things down to miami. ellie saw and heard from everyone less and less as she finished her coursework and switched into summer mode, even as the date of logan’s wedding grew closer.

finally it was time to hand her keys over to the girl who’d be subletting her apartment for the summer and catch her flight; when she stepped off the plane she forgot, for a moment, that she wasn’t home in los angeles -- it was humid and sunny and everyone around her looked happy, a far cry from the scene she’d left behind at jfk.

ellie went straight to her summer housing and checked in, a little astonished by how nice the apartment was. there was a pool in the back of the building and the beach was only a short walk away; there were floor-to-ceiling windows exposing the view to her and illuminating every last one of the boxes she’d have to unpack where they were cluttering her new living room floor.

her eyes landed on one marked kitchen stuff and ellie tore into it, using her keys to rip the tape. the still-sealed bottle of dom perignon from the bachelorette party was sitting on top of everything else, wrapped in bubble wrap.

the trip or the heat had probably made it go flat but she pulled it out anyway, sitting on the floor and popping the cork. ellie took a sip from the bottle and grimaced -- all expensive alcohol was disgusting.

she set it on the floor and took a photo for her pictagram story anyway, the boxes and the view in the background. it was only up for a few seconds before her phone screen lit up with an incoming message.

it was colt. dork was all he’d written, when she opened her direct messages. the little animation beneath his words indicated he was typing something else. how is it?

pretty bad she wrote back honestly.

guess i’ll have to work harder to impress you

she stared down at her phone, rereading the words twice before she huffed out a genuine laugh. ellie had been avoiding checking in with most of her friends while she focused on moving, but it felt pretty nice to talk to colt again. the new peace that had settled between them had admittedly been a welcome respite, distracting her from every stressor in her life. 

with a shake of her head, she gave in and wrote back guess so.

*

everyone in the wedding was spending the entire weekend in santa monica, and ellie was grateful for the opportunity to avoid awkward conversation with her dad, heading straight to the hotel when she flew in on the morning of the rehearsal dinner.

things were already in full swing even though it was early in the day when she arrived; though she was exhausted from her flight and the work she’d left behind on the east coast ellie still let ingrid pull her up to her suite to start getting ready together.

one by one the rest of their friends started to trickle in, chatting excitedly about the wedding the next day, and eventually, after they’d gone over saturday’s schedule at least a thousand times, it was late enough in the afternoon that she had to go back to her own hotel room to get dressed for dinner.

ellie was the first of the girls to finish getting ready and logan and the rest of the guys were already downstairs at the lobby bar when she came out of the elevator. logan pulled her into a hug as soon as she got close, kissing her cheek hello.

“are you so excited?” she asked, squeezing his arms, “big day tomorrow.”

“i can’t wait. i know we did this fast but it still feels like we’ve been waiting for forever.” he looked adorably eager. “you look nice, by the way.”

“thank you,” ellie said primly, stepping out of his arms to spin in a circle, the skirt of her dress swishing around the tops of her thighs, “not half bad for an all-nighter and a cross-country flight, eh?”

“thanks for flying out so early. i’m so glad you’re here.” logan called the bartender over as she moved down the line to say hi to the rest of the groomsmen, and when she came back around to his other side to accept the drink he held out to her she noticed there was one person missing from the group.

“where’s colt?”

logan arched an eyebrow at her. her face flushed pink, and then worsened when that voice she could pick out of a crowd said from behind her, “miss me?”

the smart remark that was waiting on the tip of her tongue died when she turned around and saw him. he always wore formalwear well, but something about how he was dressed tonight captured her attention in a way that was impossible to ignore. she swallowed.

“just wondering if tonight might actually be peaceful or not,” she said finally, lifting her eyes from the few buttons that were open on his shirt at the front of his throat to look him in the eyes. “i guess it won’t be.”

he shrugged, leaning around her to signal the bartender for a drink of his own. “i promised i’d behave this weekend.” 

“yeah, and you’d better follow through or ingrid’s going to come after us both,” logan grinned, waiting until colt had his glass in his hand before sticking his own in between the three of them. “cheers.”

“cheers,” ellie smiled, clinking her champagne flute delicately against the two rocks glasses in their hands, “congratulations. i’m so happy for you guys.”

“you can back out at any time,” colt said, and then, as ingrid finally walked over and hit him on the shoulder, “ow. what? you can back out, too.”

she linked her arm through logan’s, tilting her face up for a kiss. “no one’s backing out. come on.”

they filed into the restaurant, where everyone’s families were already waiting at one end of the long table. ellie sat down on ingrid’s right and came face-to-face with colt, who was sitting directly across from her at logan’s left. he smirked at her from the other side of the table, bumping his foot into hers underneath the tablecloth. 

she kicked him back, turning her cheek to stifle a smile when she saw him wince as soon as her high heel collided with his shin. 

dinner was surprisingly pleasant, making her cautiously optimistic for the way the rest of the weekend was going to go. tomorrow was sure to be exhausting, with a full day of primping and photos before the ceremony and reception, and the after party following late into the night, if she knew their group of friends at all.

but it’d probably be pretty fun, too. at least she could start drinking heavily as soon as her toast was over.

though she was woefully sober after the cake had been cut and the night started to wind down, certain that a hangover would be a wrench in tomorrow morning she just didn’t need, with the day ahead of her. 

they all took their time saying goodbye and slowly started to head to the elevator. just outside the restaurant door, colt caught her elbow and asked, “wanna go for a walk?”

she stared back at him dumbly. why? “huh?”

“come on, the beach is right there.” his hand slid down her bare arm to curl around her wrist, and he tugged her towards the french doors that would lead them outside onto the hotel’s back patio before she could protest.

ellie slipped off her shoes as they moved down the steps and out into the sand, silent when they both walked off down the beach together. the stretch owned by the hotel was private and closed for the night, so they were the only two people making their way down to the ocean, though she still wasn’t exactly sure for what. 

“how’ve you been?” she asked finally, when it felt like it’d been quiet for too long.

“fine. how are your... water samples?” 

her eyebrows arched. part of her was amazed he’d remembered, and a little warmed by his thoughtfulness. “um, good,” she answered slowly, “well -- not good, they’re contaminated, but... good for me? to have something to study?”

out of the corner of her eye, ellie saw his lips twitch. it was good to know he still found her embarrassment amusing. “that’s good.”

“are you nervous for your speech tomorrow?” she asked, because she was certainly nervous about hers. his smile spread.

“no.” he’d long since let go of her arm, but colt still only shoved the hand on the other side of his body into his pocket, letting his other arm dangle near hers. “i’m just gonna wing it.”

“you’re going to -- i’m sorry, what?” she demanded, completely horrified. “you cannot just wing it.”

“well, i’m going to,” he shrugged, “so don’t lose sleep over it.”

“oh my god,” ellie groaned, “i feel sick just thinking about it. please tell me you’re joking.”

“you know i’m not,” he laughed, that same soft sound from the night of logan and ingrid’s engagement party, when he’d given her a ride home. her cheeks flushed just thinking about it. “don’t you ever get tired of being so self-righteous?”

“no,” she sniffed, “don’t you ever get tired of being so...”

ellie trailed off as she searched for the right word. colt stopped suddenly and turned in the sand to face her, grinning widely when their eyes locked. “so what?”

arrogant. smug. obnoxious. insufferable. reckless. “so...” she paused, tongue darting out to lick her lips, “well --”

colt leaned in and kissed her before she could decide which word she wanted to settle on. the hand that’d been in his pocket landed on her waist, and he lifted the other to her jaw, cradling her cheek in his palm when he pulled her closer to meet his lips.

she froze. part of her had been expecting this, though it still felt so unbelievably beyond imagining -- colt kaneko was kissing her after they’d spent the last eight years at each other’s throats, and tenderly, too, his lips soft and gentle when they brushed against hers.

ellie sighed quietly into his mouth, then looped her arm around him and kissed him back, sliding her fingers into his hair at the back of his head. 

he was a good kisser. not that she’d thought about it, or anything, outside of one or two times --

fine, a few times... 

colt snaked his arm fully around her waist and pressed his body in against hers as close as they could get; there was only the sound of the waves on the shore while they kissed for what felt like an eternity, with all the familiarity of two people who’d done this dozens of times before.

there was something about being alone with him that eased the tension being home always brought with it. something about the new calmness in their relationship reminded her of her apartment and new york and the places she’d always felt most like herself, almost like colt understood her and the things she wanted to say but wouldn’t without her even having to say them. 

finally, his thumb pressed into the hinge of her jaw and he broke them apart, tipping his forehead against hers to stare into her eyes.

in the dark, with the moon behind him, the depths of his gaze consumed her entirely. ellie worked to catch her breath while staring back at him seriously, though there was surely some shock on her expression.

“um,” she said finally. “i --”

he swept her into another kiss and she was grateful for the chance to collect her thoughts before being expected to say something, though every last one she had left her abruptly when their lips met again. all she could focus on was how good the kiss was -- how it felt like giving into something she’d been holding off on allowing for far too long. 

this time, when he pushed her away, he spoke up. “do you want me to apologize?”

ellie realized her fingers were still curled into his hair and forced them to relax. she dropped her hand onto his shoulder. “no.” her eyes lingered on the minute upturn at the corners of his mouth. “an explanation would be helpful, though.”

the hand colt had on the small of her back dipped lower. she raised her eyebrows at him again. “i want to spend the night with you,” he said bluntly, “if you want.”

she pretended to think about it, even though she already knew what her answer would be. judging by the look on colt’s face, he knew she was only acting, too, though he stayed quiet for once and let her go through the motions of looking back at the hotel in thoughtful consideration. “yeah,” she said finally, with a nod, “let’s go to your room.”

*

colt’s room was on the other side of the hotel, and he’d forgotten to pull the heavy-duty shades shut the night before, so the sun filtered in through the gauzy curtains and hit her in the face early, waking her up before she was ready.

ellie rubbed at her eyes and took in the sight before her: the muscled arm slung across her waist was attached to a set of broad shoulders and a sculpted torso, though colt was sleeping on his stomach so she could only see his back, the sheet draped low over his hips. 

his face was squished into the pillow and he was still peacefully asleep, his breathing even and quiet beside her.

she stared at him for a few seconds before a deep sense of dread started to set in, filling her with slowly dawning horror.

you slept with colt kaneko! her brain screamed unhelpfully at her, like she didn’t already know. what the fuck were you thinking?

okay. this was fixable. all she had to do was get to her clothes and get out of his room before he woke up. she could make it back to her suite before anyone noticed she was gone, right? 

his body stirred beside her as soon as she shifted to the edge of the mattress. ellie watched colt’s arm slip off her waist and stared as his eyes slowly blinked open, his jaw cracking with a yawn. “hey,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and perfectly cozy-sounding, halting her progress out of the bed and almost enough to make her turn right back around. “what time is it?”

“seven,” she returned just as quietly, and he flopped back against the pillow with a groan, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“the fuck are you doing up?” he grumbled. “christ.”

ellie shifted another inch to the edge of the bed. “we need to all start getting ready soon. pictures are at two.”

“it’s seven,” he sighed, “she can’t possibly expect you to --”

“she does.”

colt groaned again, louder this time. he rolled onto his back and pressed both palms against his face, then pushed his hands through his hair. “we’ll get up in ten minutes,” he declared decisively, dropping his cheek into the side of the pillow. his eyes were half-lidded when they landed on her. “come here.”

ellie hesitated at the edge of the bed, biting her lip. 

that was probably a mistake. 

she cleared her throat, averting her eyes. maybe all of this had been a mistake. it was so unlike her -- flirting with him, kissing him on the beach, having a one night stand. he’d never even liked her before she started doing all of these things that felt so wildly out of character for her. in fact, he’d always hated her. 

what the fuck did he think they were doing, anyway? 

panic was starting to set in, hot and desperate. “i should really get going,” she said, then stood and snatched her dress up off the floor before she could be sucked in by the curve of him against the mattress. “ingrid’s going to wonder where i am.”

there was complete and total silence as she pulled her clothes back on quickly, piece by piece. finally, colt said, “okay. i’ll see you later.”

his voice was slow -- carefully measured. ellie didn’t look at him before double checking to make sure she had her phone and room key and nodding blindly in the direction of the bed, doing her best to keep her voice faux-chipper. “totally,” she called out mindlessly, rushing out the door.

her chest squeezed tight with anxiety and refused to relent for the entirety of the morning. ellie found herself fighting off a meltdown through hair and makeup, through hours of gushing over ingrid and how beautiful she looked, through a session with the photographer in the bridal suite. 

her thoughts were elsewhere during the group photos with everyone. it took every effort not to look colt’s way when they all got together before the ceremony to take so many pictures her face was hurting from maintaining her fake smile.

still, her mind drifted. the part of her that was adamant she’d made the right decision couldn’t seem to quiet the little voice beneath it wondering what if, her curiosity needling her brain incessantly. 

now she’d never know what he might’ve been about to say or do. she wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of having two pieces of her life that didn’t fit together -- new york and school and los angeles and colt -- because there was no knowing if anything would’ve even come from it.

maybe that’s for the best, said the larger, more rational part of her brain. 

all the excuses she’d used a thousand times before came back to her at once. she was too busy to date, probably, and ill-equipped to have a boyfriend. guys she’d dated in the past had complained about her being hot and cold, either clingy or distant depending on where she was with school or in her professional life. the only parts of herself she could actually tolerate most of the time seemed to be the biggest turn-offs: she was too driven, too focused on her passion projects. 

each word felt hollow, now. maybe she hadn’t done the right thing.

ellie’s pulse raced dangerously as everyone lined up at the edge of the cliff for the outdoor ceremony. she and colt stood just behind logan, side-by-side. 

he wasn’t looking at her. her stomach twisted unhappily. 

she gently reached out to touch his arm. her voice was barely a murmur when she leaned in close and said, “hey, can i talk to you?”

colt looked down at her like she was insane. in front of them, logan started down the aisle. “now’s not really a good time.”

fuck. she was almost definitely going to lose her nerve, but he was right. she pursed her lips, looping her arm through his. her free hand clutched her flowers tightly.

colt felt stiff beside her, at odds with the easy way he’d held her last night. she used all her focus not to trip as they walked down the aisle together and then separated on either side of the altar, the both of them looking anywhere else but at each other.

fortunately, the ceremony provided a welcome distraction from her swirling thoughts. logan and ingrid had written their own vows, and she cried the entire time they spoke to each other, tears silently dripping down her cheeks as she watched two of her oldest friends profess their love.

even the poem ingrid’s sister read made her heart skip a beat, her bottom lip wobbling through the ceremony until the officiant finally pronounced them husband and wife.

ellie was still smiling through tears after they’d kissed and started back down the aisle together. she forgot to be nervous about walking with colt until he took her arm in his and said, “seriously?”

then everything that had happened rushed back to her at once, and she was uneasy and miserable again.

“come on,” ellie sniffed, dabbing delicately at her eyes, “that was beautiful.”

“it was something,” he mumbled, so quietly the excited din of the crowd nearly drowned him out. “i’ll catch up with you later.”

he dropped her arm as soon as he possibly could, disappearing into the venue. ellie watched everyone through the glass windows for a moment before following him inside with a sigh.

bathroom, then bar. even if the first thing she needed was a large glass of wine, the absolute last thing she needed was smudged mascara. everything else could wait.

*

it was almost the end of the cocktail hour when logan found her at the bar. ellie grinned at him wholeheartedly and passed him the champagne flute she’d taken for herself, signaling for another.

“thanks,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, “like, a thousand people have already tried talking to me. you never told me this was going to be so exhausting.”

“getting married is a huge deal,” ellie laughed, “of course every single person here wants to talk to you. you’re going to be making the rounds all night.”

“just -- keep me occupied for a few more minutes,” he said, gaze darting around the room, “make it look like we’re having a really serious talk. start with whatever put that look on your face.”

“i don’t have a look on my face,” she argued, though she knew it was futile.

logan arched his eyebrows at her. “ellie.”

“what?” she asked. she shuffled her feet anxiously and then continued, “look, i’m sure colt already told you we slept together last night, so --”

logan started coughing, spitting champagne back into his glass. he set it down on the bar with wide eyes. “oh my god, you what?”

ellie felt her own eyes bug out to match. “he didn’t tell you?”

“no,” logan hissed, then coughed again. “what do you mean you slept together last night?”

“um,” ellie started, her voice high as she swiveled her eyes to the ceiling, “well...”

“jesus, i can’t believe he finally went for it.”

she slowly lowered her gaze back to his. her brow furrowed in confusion. “what?”

“oh, man. he’s liked you for forever. i didn’t think he was ever going to...” logan trailed off as he caught sight of the expression on her face, which cycled from confusion to realization to horror so quickly it made her head spin. “wait, how’d you guys leave it?”

“um,” she said again, cringing, “well...”

“yikes.” logan matched her look with a wince. “you should probably talk to him.”

she wandered into the ballroom as if in a daze. ellie found her seat at the table with the bridal party and breathed a sigh of relief once she noticed colt was far away from her at the other end -- at least ingrid had done her one favor. 

after the toast, she told herself with a nod, i’ll talk to him. 

after the toast she could have the hard drink she’d need to get through the conversation. they could take a few minutes to themselves.

but first she had to actually get through the toast, and that meant sitting politely while colt gave the best man speech, which he did unflappably well, of course, even though he hadn’t prepared for it at all.

ellie was reminded all at once what’d made her hate him in the first place: colt was good at everything without having to worry about it. in college, he’d effortlessly pulled perfect grades in even the most impossible classes; tonight was no different. he made jokes that landed perfectly with the crowd, getting the appropriate amount of laughs, and finished with something surprisingly sentimental that garnered lots of applause -- both ingrid and logan beamed at him when he sat down again.

and she had to go next.

she pointedly ignored him as she stood with her glass. “hey, everyone. i’m ellie. for those of you who don’t know me, ingrid and i met on the very first day of college -- eight years ago. i’d just turned eighteen and i was away from home for the first time. i actually bumped into ingrid in the parking lot...”

ellie hit all the marks, too: what she loved about her friends, what made them perfect for each other. “-- and i knew he was the one just from the way she’d talk about him. she always got so giddy, it was like there was a whole other side of her i’d never seen before. every day she’d have something new to say about him: ‘oh, logan said this,’ and, ‘oh, logan showed me that’ --”

everyone was crying by the time she wrapped up. ingrid blew her a kiss as she lifted her glass into the air, and ellie grinned brightly back at her and logan before the band came back on and she could finally sit down again.

the girls around her were gushing about how good her toast had been, but ellie leaned around them to catch colt’s eye at the other end of the table.

her eyebrows lifted meaningfully. she nodded at the dance floor.

colt rolled his eyes. she watched him shake his head.

ellie thrust her bottom lip out into a pout. 

he looked sort of close to smiling, setting a swarm of butterflies loose in her stomach. it was both better and more dangerous than the thought of him being angry at her had been. later, he mouthed, turning away before she could frown at him any harder.

that was fine. it’d give her a little more time to work up her nerve -- hopefully.

she grabbed ingrid on her way back to the bar.

“oh my god, i can’t believe you,” ingrid sighed, squeezing her tight in a huge hug, “that was only the most beautiful toast of all time. you ruined my makeup, you bitch!”

“okay, you still look perfect,” ellie argued, squeezing her hand, “you’re the most beautiful bride ever. don’t even start.”

ingrid sighed wistfully, looking off towards the sweetheart table at the front of the ballroom. “i am pretty beautiful, huh?”

“are you kidding?” ellie demanded, “the whole thing was gorgeous.”

ingrid’s grin sharpened. out of nowhere, she said, “logan told me you totally fucked colt last night.”

“shhhh!” ellie cast a glance around desperately, but they were blessedly alone at the bar. “oh my god, i didn’t --”

“yeah, right. why didn’t you tell me?!”

“it’s your wedding day,” she laughed, “i wanted to -- i don’t know. it just happened, it was weird.”

“what’s he like?” she asked, passing ellie a glass of champagne.

“can we not do this?” ellie ducked her head behind the glass, trying to hide her flushed face. “isn’t it time for your first dance?”

ingrid waved her hand dismissively. “in a minute. so? spill!”

“oh my god, it was obviously incredible,” she mumbled into her champagne, “now get out of my face, this is exactly why i didn’t tell you.”

“fine, but we are so not done talking about this.” she reached out and tugged on one of the neat curls of her hair before linking her arm through ellie’s to walk back to the front of the ballroom together. “and you’d better save me a dance.”

*

she didn’t get her moment alone with colt until after the entrees. ellie had given up on trying to catch his eye, so she was surprised when he walked over and said, “i’ll take that dance, now, if you can stop crying long enough to make it happen.”

“people with souls cry at weddings,” she huffed, standing and taking his hand in hers, “i’m sorry you can’t relate.”

“you’re forgiven,” he smirked, so that she could almost pretend there was absolutely nothing weird going on between them as they walked out onto the dance floor.

but his expression shifted when the song changed and her hands laced together behind his neck, absolving her of that illusion near-immediately. she cleared her throat as his hands settled on her hips and they started to sway together.

“i’m sorry,” she said again, more seriously this time. 

he pursed his lips, then shrugged. “for what?”

“for being weird this morning. i don’t know what you were going to say -- um, if you were going to say anything, but i totally freaked out and i obviously didn’t even give you a chance to get to it, so. that was uncool. sorry.”

colt’s gaze was calculating on hers. she wondered what he was thinking. “don’t worry about it,” he said finally. “it’s nothing.”

she drew in a deep breath. well, if he wasn’t going to give her an inch... “logan said you’ve always liked me.”

ellie watched as his eyes narrowed. “logan’s lucky today’s his wedding day,” colt murmured darkly. his hands tightened on her hips briefly, then released. he turned his head and leveled his glare on her. “so?”

“so -- i thought you hated me,” she laughed, that thread of nervousness back again. “you never -- i mean, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

he rolled his eyes at her. “okay, you’re always, like -- smiling and happy and constantly surrounded by people. when we were in school you were in, like, student government and on debate team and running a thousand clubs or doing extra lab hours and everyone always liked you -- so you wanted me to, what, exactly? just walk right up to you and be like, hey, do you want to see a movie?”

ellie gaped at him, her mouth open in shock. “i -- yes! you could have just asked me out.”

“right,” colt snorted, “that would’ve gone over well. you thought i was a total asshole.”

“colt, you were a total asshole,” she reminded him.

he shifted back and forth on his feet. ellie stared in fascination as the tips of his ears went red when he dipped his head to avert his eyes. “i didn’t want you think i had a crush on you or anything.”

it felt a lot like she was having an out-of-body experience. “well... did you have a crush on me?”

colt cleared his throat. “you weren’t like everyone else,” he said, in lieu of an answer, “you’re still not. but i get that you’re busy. this doesn’t have to be, like, a thing.”

“hang on, i’m still processing.” whatever this was, it was officially bizarre. 

it seemed impossible to wrap her head around what he’d just admitted: that he’d always liked her, even at her most neurotic, at the most school-obsessed, five-year-plan focused she’d ever been. 

so she didn’t have to change.

for once, it didn’t feel like she needed to put up some front that was, frankly, exhausting to maintain.

everything just felt -- nice.

“done yet?” he demanded, “the song’s almost over.” 

ellie leaned in and kissed him, uncaring of anyone who might see. his hands were warm over the cutouts in the dress at her sides and she was breathless when they finally broke apart, long after the song had changed.

the look on colt’s face was a mixture of self-satisfied and surprised when he pulled her off the dance floor and out onto the terrace. “i am busy,” ellie said, once they were alone.

colt nodded, looking out at the view of the beach below them. “i know.”

“but -- if you really don’t mind that i have to split my focus with school... and the distance... and the time difference...”

“are you trying to talk me out of it?” he asked, sounding amused.

“...then obviously i’d love to date you or whatever.”

“huh.” colt was smiling as he stared at the ocean. “i guess i probably should have just asked out you five years ago, then.”

“it might’ve been easier,” ellie allowed, shifting to lean her shoulder against his. she reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. “but that’s not really our style.”

colt turned and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “true,” he hummed, and then, “you smell like you have a whole can of hairspray in your hair.”

“i probably do.” she hesitated, looking down at their joined hands. “are you sure you want to do this?”

“yeah.” ellie looked back up at him and found colt’s eyes still stuck thoughtfully on the view. “i’ve wanted to for a really long time.”

“that’s so crazy to me.”

“why?” he finally turned and looked at her, his gaze no less intense than it had been last night by the ocean. “ingrid’s right. you are a catch. it’s crazy to me that you’ve stayed single all this time.”

“well, i was --” she bit the inside of her cheek to avoid again using the word busy, and then pivoted to a more uncomfortably honest answer, “-- never interested in compromising. before now.”

his lips spread into a smile. she felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of it, soft and genuine and open on his face. “figures i’d be the one to break your streak,” colt said, in that same overconfident way she always used to hate.

“oh my god, do not start,” she huffed, using their joined hands to push his side until he stumbled a step away.

colt retaliated by spinning her around and pulling her in close, trapping her against the ledge of the balcony before she could move. “why?” he challenged, “what are you going to do about it?”

she was going to kiss that stupid smirk right off his face, for one.

and he was going to spend the night dancing with her and later hold back her hair when she had too much to drink.

then they’d both spend most of sunday in bed, skipping brunch with the rest of their friends to put the hours before her flight to better use.

colt would drive her to the airport. they would say their goodbyes on the curb.

and she would be too excited to sleep on the trip back to miami.

“just wait,” she threatened, though her voice was sweet; she tilted her chin up to brush their noses together. “you’ll see. i have it all planned out.”

the look in his eyes made her feel like she was doing something dangerous; colt looked both fond and delighted, content and sweet and sure. his free hand lifted to thumb at her cheekbone, like part of him was still surprised to find the both of them out here, wrapped up together like they were. 

“i’ll bet,” he returned, his voice low and full of promise. “that work ethic is one of the things i like most about you.”

“you’ll have to give me a list of the rest,” ellie laughed, eager to hear his take on it all from what was arguably the most unique perspective in their friend group. 

“eh, you can wait,” colt shrugged, gently pressing her in along the stone ledge behind her back on the balcony, leaning over her with another grin, “there’s a few other things we have to catch up on first.”

fair point, she thought, though she’d be damned if she ever actually agreed with him out loud. she had a lot to fill him in on, too. 

he’d probably waited long enough, though, so ellie folded first and gave him that kiss she’d planned, colt’s smirk dissolving as expected when his mouth pressed against hers. 

when they finally broke apart and turned to head back inside, they drew up short outside the doors to the balcony. every last one of their friends was standing in front of the glass facade, staring at them, their eyes wide and their mouths open. ingrid and logan in particular looked unreasonably overjoyed. 

“christ,” colt sighed, as ellie instantly flushed bright red beside him, “is this what this is going to be like all the time?”

“no take backs,” she said, squeezing his hand. she turned to look up at him just in time to catch his eye roll, and the subsequent glare that made the group watching them from behind the door scatter with raucous laughter.

“fine,” he answered, sounding put-upon, but she hadn’t looked away yet and so she still caught the private smile that tugged his lips up against his will.

perfect, ellie thought to herself, and then, for the first time in as long as she could remember, nothing else -- no self-doubt, no exhaustion, no pretending. 

colt was probably going to have to help her get used to how it felt to have everything she wanted.

#rodaw #colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc #choices rod #ellie wheeler #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler #myfic #long post #i love this trope................. too much #GOD i'm so glad i finished this in time !! #there's nothing n/s/f/w in here by the way #the 18+ rating is for swearing lol #and the implication of sex #but we did a tasteful fade to black ladies #also if you ever mentioned wanting to read this you got tagged lol hope that's okay !! #ride or die

[angelicichor]

May I request a RZ Mikey finally finding his childhood friend (s/o) that he loved and used to play with and protect before he was taken away? Like they were so sweet and kind and missed him so much when he left

Yes!! Gosh I was waiting for someone to request something for my baby Mikey  °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° 

And I’m sorry for this one bc it’s so long and I messed up SO MANY TIMES, but I hope it’s still good enough 💔

Words: 4000+

Dearest

As the man stood on the street, eyes focused at the stars shining above him, he heard a soft hum in his ears. The rush of blood, fading, replaced with the howling of the chilling autumn wind, the playing of crickets in the grass, and a faint sound of an alarm going off in the sanitarium behind him.

He looked down to his hands, red, coating them fully, gore stuck under his fingernails, but they felt light, without the drugs in his veins, left unchained, unbound and as his messy, dirty blond hair was moved along with the breeze, tickling his neck, he realized that he was, for once, free.

And for a moment it overwhelmed him, the space, the air, the wind, the stars, the clarity of his mind, as his brain processed his situation, no more drugs, no more nurses, no more Loomis, no more emptiness, he didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to wander with his mind to pass the hours, days, months, following a schedule that they set for him, he didn’t have to listen to their tired voices, to the hateful names that they threw at him under their breath, thinking he was drugged too hard out of his mind to hear them. There was no more “Mikey”, there was “Michael”, free from his prison, free to do as he pleased. What a good feeling it was.

His head shoot up for a moment, his hand reaching out to search for something in his pocket, almost frantic, his breath stopping as he found it, a small picture with him and what used to be his closes family on it, his thumb passing through his little sister’s face, slowly, with love and longing. That, he told himself, organizing his mind, would be his priority, he had to get the family back together. Find Boo, somehow let her know it’s him, he knew her name, knew where she lived, he just had to get there, just had to…

Suddenly his ears rang, a high pitched noise making him wince, it was unpleasant, distracting, but he knew what it meant. He needed to rest above all, let the things they’ve been forcing him to take get out of his system, needed a safe space, but where?

His house was out of question, it was sad, but he knew that would be the first place they’d check once the police realize he’s the one who escaped.

Just get to Haddonfield. His mind settled and he allowed himself to sigh for once, there was nobody around, it was fine, for once it was just fine.

To say his mind was wandering would be an understatement, no, it was an unstable concoction, filled with plans, feelings, thoughts, and memories, the last he needed to focus on the hardest as he made his way through the grass fields and then forest, trying to recall how he got to that cursed prison in the first place, it was with a car, an officer pulling up to the sanitarium with him inside the back seat, silent, observing his surroundings, half-aware of everything, the anger he felt before he killed his father, sister and her boyfriend slowly fading then, being replaced with a silent fear.

All he wished for then was to just go home, to his mother, his little sister, he wouldn’t even mind going back to school. With his father and sister gone there would be just so much less for him to worry about, school would be just a side noise, something to grind his teeth through and come back home, to his little darling sister, to his loving mother, to his family. 

But they had to lock him up.

Michael had no real sense of time as he walked, just a goal and a general idea of direction, and a truck wash slowly crawling it’s way into his vision. Good.

He tried his damn best to please the doctor in the beginning, answering his questions truthfully, hoping he would understand, but all too quickly did he realize that no one really cared for what he said. So at one point he just went silent, why talk, when nobody listens? It was easy too, even if Loomis was impressed by his ability to not utter a single word in 15 years. 

“Learn to live inside your head…” the orderly said something like this to him all those years in the past, so that’s just what he did, memories of his past running on repeat, mixing with the every day talk of the nurses, the screaming of other patients, the eventual alarms or music, stopping only when he was sat down in front of his doctor. He listened to him, didn’t react, just out of pure curiosity, because that damned fool liked to run his mouth and sometimes a few things would slip out. Things he could use.

The grayed blue coveralls kept him warmer against the autumn wind and the boots made walking less tedious. He did have to leave a body behind for them, but that was good, something to distract the police, so there would be less looking for him. He’d figure that they knew he was gone by now, so if they get just a few more places to check for him, what’s the problem? He’d be long gone before the report came, anyways.

Between the memories of his abusive father, his neglectful sister and his mother and little Boo’s smiles, there was another thing that would run by a bit foggier, he could never grasp it fully, too focused on his rage and longing, but it was there. A face, a smile, a pair of gentle hands helping him up from the ground, their voice angry, but not at him, someone else, one of the louder, antagonizing voices, but one that he had already shut up in the past.

That memory was getting stronger now, the closer he got home, he could feel it.

As the warm lights of Haddonfield brightened the dark night from afar, Michael’s heart tightened. He hadn’t even realized. 

The little light shows on all the houses, the running children, dressed as monsters, the carved pumpkins and those fallen leaves that crunched under his boot as he walked through the forest, knowing well enough that if anyone saw him, there would be a cause for alarm. He broke into one of the first houses, chocking out a woman’s life the moment her mouth opened to scream. And the realization hit him even harder as he noticed the fake cobwebs on the ceiling, the fake zombie on the corner that bobbed it’s head when pressed, Michael’s lip twitching in an amused smile under his mask at the sight. It was Halloween. 

What irony that those idiots would get him a chance to get out of his prison on the anniversary of his arrival there.

“You always get in so much trouble, Mikey!” the voice rang in his head as he stalked the neighborhood, snuffing people’s lives one by one, just to stay hidden for everybody else. “I don’t want to… they’re just idiots…” His kid self replied and the shyness he felt back them hit him even now as he stood starring at his old house in the distance, from a safe space between the trees. It was run down, empty, the wood darkened a lot during those 15 years and he could see how close everything was to collapsing, but it still made him somewhat calm to look at it. 

There was no police around, not yet, no noise that would point to them either, no cars. So going against his first plan, he went inside. 

The board creaked under his weight, but he couldn’t blame them for complaining, he wasn’t unaware of how much he’d grown during those years, it wasn’t their fault. 

“Geez, 2 inches?! How could you!” they laughed, giving him a slight push, but he didn’t return it, just giggling instead. “AND you’re going soft on me?!” they seemed offended now, their cheeks inflating and brows furrowing.“What?” he asked back, confused at their anger, only to be pushed again, this time letting himself wobble onto the floorboards with a fake huff. “What did I do?!” he laughed back at them, seeing them stand above him, arms crossed under their tiny chest. “You think I can’t handle you just because you’re 4 inches taller than me, Myers?” they squinted at him and he felt his cheeks burning up slowly.“N…Yeah… I mean…” he stuttered, God, was he horrible with words.So it was a blessing when they reached out to him, helping him up like they did so many times, even if he noticed that their pull was much weaker than his own now, but it was good, they’ve protected him for so long, it was his turn to do the same.“It’s fine, Mikey…! I was joking!” they smiled and he felt his stomach clench, nervous like never. “Really. I mean… at least you can reach for Mr.Bernard next time my sister puts him on the fridge!”.“Y-yeah… I could.” he returned their warm smile and felt his body wobble again as they pushed him playfully. This time, he did the same.

The wooden board gave to the pull his fingers finally and he reached deep in, pulling out the thing he had hidden all those years ago, a white latex, a bit rougher in his fingers, or were they rougher themselves? He couldn’t really tell. The mask that he killed his sister in. He was glad to see it was still good to use. He’d need it, the paper one on his face was already giving in because of all the blood.

“Mikey?” they seemed a bit quiet today, so their voice made him shoot up, blue eyes starring deep into theirs.“Yeah?”“Why do you always wear those things? I mean, they’re nice but…”“I… They make me feel less ugly…” his head lowered, followed by the slump in his shoulders. “Huh…” they sighed, taking his mask off their face and he was happy for that, they were too cute to wear them anyways. “But Mikey… You’re pretty anyways…”And the sincerity in their voice made him put on another mask, one made of his hands, hidding his reddened face in a hurry. How could they be so cruel?!Standing in the thicket he had a perfect view of the next house, the one he knew she was in, they called her Laurie now and she wasn’t alone in there, there was another girl that he didn’t know and he knew that would be a problem, but his mind was made.

Or at least he thought so, that is, before noticing somebody else, heading out from the same building Laurie was in.

They’ve grown, but not as much as him, and he could see that their hair still refused to obey their wishes, and their eyes seemed a bit more tired, but he could tell, it was them, it was you, the same that would protect him so many times, show him kindness, try to understand him when everybody else would just throw insults at him. You’ve changed so much, yet as he looked at your smiling face the same flare rose in his heart, the same longing to be next to you, to embrace you, to call your name.And he almost did, but the burning in his throat stopped him, muscle on the brink of collapse, throwing him into a coughing fit that he tried so hard to cover and he realized that, maybe, just maybe, becoming a mute was a mistake. 

“Thank you for having me over, Laurie…” your tired face lighted up at the blonde girl and she shook her head, returning your warmth in kind.“No problem, (Y/N). I’m still mad that your mother would make you watch her house on a night like that. I mean, I love the lady, but come on!” the blonde laughed and you felt your heart tighten slightly. It was always hard to face her, her resemblance to him haunted you every time, her long hair, those chubby cheeks, the way she smiled, but you could never tell her, no, she was separate from that family now, but you knew them too well to forget.“It’s fine, really, I didn’t have any plans anyways. Halloween is still a sore spot for me.” the laughter in your voice sounded so pained and you hated how your emotions would leak through, but she knew not to question it, letting you go on your way, two houses from hers.

It was cold and while you were thankful for the sweater the girls gave you, it wasn’t nearly enough to stop your shivering. Good thing you didn’t have a long way to go, but the chill on your spine was unpleasant never the less.

The door opened with the click of the key being twisted and complete darkness welcomed you inside, it was something you used to be scared of, but grew accustomed to, knowing where the light switch is, even if it was stupidly far from the door, a mistake of the past that was your father’s fault. With a flicker the living room came to your vision and you sighed at the mess, knowing damn well that this was exactly what three days of being a lazy, sad ass looked like. “I need to clean up, huh…” the plastic pumpkin in your hands slid onto a table as you bent down to undo your boots, just to sit down and ignore your own words, nothing new there. You could clean tomorrow, but today the energy to do anything was gone. 

Today was his favorite day, you remembered, cradling your knees up to your chest with a heavy sigh. Every year you’d go out together, along with his mom, since your parents were always unwilling to go, complaining how it was a pagan holiday and not something a proper Christian should celebrate, but they didn’t really stop you either, showed how much they cared. You two would always run ahead of his mom, only to hesitate before the doors, arguing quietly who’d be the one to ring, until either his mom caught up and did it herself or the ruckus you two were causing forced the inhabitants to open the door anyways, to find you and Michael pulling each other’s hair in a soft tugging war. Then, at the end of the night you’d sit together at the table, waving your legs and counting the candy you’ve gotten, sharing if either got less and you’d always take away his candy corn. He liked it, but not so much and he’d much rather have your jelly beans. It was never a fair trade, but the face he made whenever you agreed made you giggle like crazy.

The memories brought warmth to your face and soft tears to your eyes. You were well past crying, accepting what the boy you had spent your childhood with had done, and that you’d never see him again, with his mother gone there was no one to save him from the sanitarium and there was no way he could ever get out himself. Sure, he was always bigger and stronger than you, but he was also a chubby kid, other’s pushover and you doubted being held in a cell with mentally deranged people did him any good.

If only Loomis had allowed you to meet with him… But then you were too young, not even family, and now he said that “The boy’s just too dangerous.” and you had no right to oppose that statement. Michael would never hurt you and you’d never hurt him, you knew that, but the old man refused to listen.

Just as you were going to stand up, a soft thud alarmed you, coming from upstairs. A small grin rose on your left cheek. “Mikey?” You called out, thinking it was your cat, who you’ve named lovingly after your past friend, coming down from an evening hunt. You heard a loud meow from upstairs and rolled your eyes, he was being a little prince again, you figured, threw something off the shelf and now required your attention to bask in the mess he’s made. “Coming, baby… Don’t make any more mess, okaaaay?” a lack of response was normal procedure, so you threw the sweater still covering your body off, revealing an over sized Kiss t-shirt. Another thing that reminded you of him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to abandoning the band just because it hurt to remember. 

With a minute passed you walked into the upstairs bedroom, looking around to find your baby, surely enough finding him at the edge of the light that came from behind you, seemingly tense. “There you are!” you hummed, stepping inside the dark room, pulling Mikey into your arms lovingly. “Did you make a mess again, Mikey? You little rascal?” you cooed, but the cat wasn’t having it, his back tensing and hair shooting up, a low hiss and a mrow escaping it’s jaws. “What’s wrong, kitty? Is there a–” your head turned and rose to inspect the direction at which your cat was hissing, only to freeze in place, your hands opening enough for it to jump down, rising it’s spine near your now trembling legs, trying to defend you, the white spot in the dark resembling a head turning down to it, tilting to the side in confusion. “W…who…?” your voice snapped it’s attention back to you immediately, and your whole body trembled under it’s stare, your leg pressing lightly against Mikey to get him to run, your heart rising to your chest, beating in an almost painful manner. “S…sir? You… you shouldn’t be here…” You tried staying polite, letting your leg take a slow, almost unnoticeable step back, every muscle in your body ready to dash away. “How did you even…” you looked to the side and noticed an open window, which definitely was closed when you left. Closed, but not locked, you reminded yourself. “Oh…”

The next stop was definitely noticed and you could see the figure tense, shifting slightly forward, enough for you to make out it’s massive shoulders and fingers twitching against the handle of a… “Oh no…” you whimpered, noticing the red glint of a blade coated in gore. That was enough for you to bolt out, fighting your balance to not stumble onto a wall and instead bounce off it to grab onto the stair’s handrail and rush a few steps down.

The invader was way faster than you, though, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt and pulling you back, the impact making you scream out in pain as tour spine met the steps and then something grabbed onto your wrist and the back of your neck, dragging you up, your eyes closing in panic as you felt the hard surface of your attacker’s chest against your back and his arm and bicep holding your head still, his other hand shooting up to your arm, catching the elbow that tried to hit the man’s side, overpowering you all too easily and twisting your arm back, drawing another, softer scream out of you, followed by a whimper. 

“Please… Please no…” you begged softly, feeling the man’s face close to your neck, his chest pressing into your back a bit harder, his grip unrelenting and your eyes caught a glimpse of his knife again, held in the arm that was choking you still. “Please, please, please… what did I do?” you whimpered softly, letting your legs kick slightly against the handrail still in front of you, but a strong pull on your arm warned you to stop, so you did, still wriggling uselessly.

Then you heard it. It was small, naught but whisper, but growing louder, words, rasping, stuttering, sounding painful, as if the throat that spoke them hadn’t been used in ages, but the more they repeated the easier it got. A low, rumbling “Calm. Down.”, like a scratched record, playing on repeat, but slowly you obeyed and with every muscle letting up in your body, the hold on you lessened as well, to nothing more than an awkward embrace. You could swear you heard a sigh of relief coming from the person.“Are you… are you going to kill me?” against your better judgement you asked and you felt the head on your shoulder rise, shifting to his blade, before the arm around you sprung into movement, stabbing the weapon into a wall, returning to hold you again, and you felt your arm become free again, the assailant searching for something in his outfit. 

His hand rose before you, placing a piece of paper in your trembling palms, holding onto them for a second, as if trying to calm them down, a breath like a cuss escaping through what you now realized was a latex mask, and he moved away, giving you your space, but watching carefully from behind you, you could feel his gaze, there was no doubt about it.

Carefully you opened the gift, making sure not to rip it, too scared of what the man would do if that happened. And then your heart stopped, only to return with a beat much slower, softer than before, as you inspected the photograph, recognizing the people on it instantly. “Oh… that’s the Myers family…” you laughed quietly. “Deborah, little Angel and… and Michael…” your voice hiked speaking the boy’s name, still too close to your heart to speak of normally. There was some shifting behind you, something you understood as the nudge to continue and you’d realized that he might want you to tell you where they are. “If you’re looking for them… I… I can’t really help you, sir. Deborah is dead, committed suicide because of her grief, Angel is… she’s her own woman now, and Mikey he…” you felt tears swell up in your eyes, your thumb lightly brushing against the boy’s face, fighting to contain the shakiness in your voice. “He’s been taken away… And they won’t let me see him… I don’t even… God I don’t even know if HE’S ALIVE.  I…” there sob that left you was ugly, but honest, speaking of ages of repressed emotions flooding your brain. “I’m sorry… I know I’m useless… I…” 

There wasn’t a proper ending for your sentence, as you felt the man’s weight on the floorboards behind you, pressing them in as his knees fell to the ground in a quiet thud, his hands then lifting your chin to look at him. You had never thought that seeing a pair of eyes could make your heart break, but it did.

Your gasp was audible and you could see the second of panic that reflected in them, his hands retreating hastily to his tights, letting you move on your own, to turn, to stare at him, even if his gaze wouldn’t meet yours again, to get closer, to touch his now sharp jaw, covered in a thicker stubble, to run your thumbs on his cheeks, his features relaxing under the much needed affection, he worry in his thick brows relaxing, as his whole body shuddered in relief, understanding that it had clicked, that you knew, his grayish-blue eyes rising again, and your mind filled with worry, seeing how tired he looked, mentally exhausted, even his long, dirty blonde hair reflected that, falling onto his shoulders in a cascade, tangled and wild. And finally your mouth moved. 

“Michael…?” you asked, shakily, feeling his hands wrap around your, swallowing them, fully. His nod was enough for your grip on his cheeks to tighten, taking in his image, he was so fucking beautiful, ragged, destroyed with time, but as angelic as you had remembered. “Oh god... OH FUCK Michael!! Mikey!!” you cried, crawling onto his shoulders, enveloping his head that rested anxiously on your chest, hugging tight, petting his hair and crying into it at the same time, but he let you, there was nothing he craved at this very moment more than your touch. “Michael, Michael I missed you so much!! I’m so sorry!! I’m so--” your forehead pressed against his, and he hushed you, his rough fingers moving onto your cheeks, swiping the tears away, a soft smile rising on his face, contradicting his rough features, his blues focused on you and you only, taking in the red of your cheeks, your quiet sobs and your warmth. And by hell, were you the most beautiful thing in the world for him now, the brightest star in this dark night. 

He tried to speak, but again his body betrayed him, sending him into a coughing fit, but this time you were there to catch him, pet his back with actual worry, treat him like a human, like he deserved your love and it broke him internally, allowing tears to creep their way from his eyes to your shoulder that he clung to in desperation, seeking out more of you unable to convey how much he missed this, you, next to him, protecting him from this world, telling him everything is fine, ignoring the blood on his hands, his disgusting, dirty body, the ugliness in his heart, just so he could feel safe. 

“Come on, Michael...” you sighed, trying to stand up, but to no avail, as he held you down and you pouted. “Mikey... you think you can just hold me down like that?” to your surprise he nodded his head, not moving it away from your chest, making you blush slightly at his stubbornness. “You... COME HERE!” and with that your hands rushed to his crow’s nest, ruffling it aggressively, creating even more mess and giggling like and idiot when his arms shoot up from you as he let himself fall in surprise, only catching your hands in a tight grip once his back hit the floor, keeping you above him and you yelped, starring down at him and his furrowed brows, letting a bright smile rise on your face, which got him a little confused.“Geez, Mikey... you really gotta cut off on wearing those masks...” you sighed, content, relaxing your hands, barely noticing the slight hint of anger mixing with worry in his eyes. “You’re beautiful without them.” And like in the past, a bit of blush shaded his face, his eyes moving away from yours in a silent panic, unable to take the complement, letting you fall onto his chest, strong and firm and oh so warm in this autumn night.

And you sighed, relaxing into it with a shy blush, realizing that you’re going to have to discuss a lot of things, but that could wait a bit, just a tiny moment. Right?

#michael myers x reader #rz's Michael #Halloween 2007 #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher community #rz!michael x reader #virgo writes

[thesparkinthefire]

Ghost - Pedro Pascal x Reader

A/N: I have a one and a half hour breakfast break because my company does not know how to plan, so I thought I might as well upload this now. I am uploading it through my phone and don't know how to proper edit on tumblr so this might look like a mess. English is also not my first language and I never wrote in it before - please point out any mistakes I might have made. I think this is part one of two.

Word count: 1,997

Paaring: Pedro Pascal crushing on musical!Reader ft. Oscar Isaac

Trigger Warning: age gap mentioned, a lot of jealousy

"Though my heart is broken, it keeps breaking every day." - With You, the Ghost cast album

Pedro didn't hate Oscar. It was quiet the opposite – that guy was his best friend. His amigo in the US of A and the wild life of Hollywood. Working with him on Triple Frontier was a dream come true and felt more like a guys-trip than work most of the time. Both of them were part of the Star Wars universe and if it somehow would have been possible they would love for their characters to meet just to work together a little more.

No, Pedro didn't hate Oscar. Except for two things.

First being that one time when he gave him a Wet Willy during that interview when they were answering questions people seem to type into Google – he still cringed whenever he thought back.

The second thing were you. Not exactly you-you because you did absolutely nothing wrong, but for Oscar's relationship with you. 

What an irony, that Pedro had introduced the both of you. You were a young actress from Europe and after you blew up because of your role in a teen-romance movie you were his partner on the second season of The Mandalorian. Your character had been a fan favourite, came into the show half way through the season and was set to stay at least for a few more episodes in the third season.

You were younger than him. A lot. But that had never bothered you. In every interview you had you were asked how working with “an experienced actor like Pedro Pascal” was like – which he found a little offensive, he might have a little lower back-pain but he wasn't that old – you smiled and answered that age was only a number and you two got along very well. And he was more than glad that you saw it that way.

To claim that he had never crushed on one of the actresses he had acted romance with would simply be a lie, but he was a professional. He never told anyone if he did and he did his best at keeping it a secret and not letting his feelings dominate his brain. But it was different with you. The moment he first saw you he thanked god that you had gotten the role. You were stunning in your very own way. Always kind to everybody – it didn't matter whether you were talking to him, the director or the clumsy intern. You always brought yourself to smile in the morning even though getting up early was like torture to you. You stayed focused on set, even when your nerves were killing you. Having a bad day was tough but you always acted kind and polite. You were perfect. In every possible way. Acting romance was the main job for the two of you and that wasn't only hard because he was wearing Din's helmet all the time. No, the problem was that he wasn't acting. He fell madly in love with you. It wasn't even your character. You were just so damn perfect.

You met a bunch of times outside of work, after the second season had aired and press tour had been wrapped. You got along so perfectly well that he sometimes had to ask himself, if he wasn't being too obvious. Maybe he was. But you never told him to step back or just didn't notice it. You should have noticed it by the time he asked you, what you were doing for Christmas. “Probably watching Netflix,” you had answered. “I am not going home until the new year and, yeah, everyone else is with their families.”

“You could join me,” Pedro had said before his mind had really processed the words you had said. “I mean- I am having dinner with a bunch of friends and, yes, we don't have a no-girls rule and you could join me. Us.” He had never seen something as beautiful as you when your eyes lit up in that moment. You happily accepted. That's how you met Oscar Isaac. Pedro's best friend, who he had never hated as much as in the moment when you were kissing him.

Oscar and you had a lot in common. You both loved Star Wars and were more than happy to discus every single theory about Finnpoe, Din Djaren and your character, the Skywalkers and Baby Yoda – just like you and him had so many times before. You both started by playing theatre – just like he did. You learned Spanish when you were still in school and tried your best to hold simple conversations with Oscar while he tried to teach you more – just like Pedro had. The thing that really connected the both of you and that made Pedro feel invisible were musicals. Sure, he had seen a few but singing was just not his thing. Oscar and you, on the other hand spent hours talking about the motifs in Hamilton, the fate of Gleb in Anastasia, the musical adaption of Heathers, the movie adaption of Cats and the harmonies in Dear Evan Hansen. Pedro loved listening to you. You were the most beautiful when you were talking about something you were as passionate about as musicals. You whole face lit up and you started talking with your hands. As much as he loved it, he hated it. Because it wasn't him you were talking with but mainly Oscar. You both loved singing and sooner or later ended up with his guitar, when the three of you were meeting at Oscar's house, or at your piano, when you were in your apartment. Pedro didn't dare to imagine how many hours you had spent in togetherness singing and acting out scenes. Fuck's sake he shouldn't – Oscar was married after all.

The year after you met some genius decided to bring the musical Ghost to California for a four week run and thought that no couple would be a better fit than Oscar and you. That was solely a PR-gig because the same director was about to host a bigger play the month after the run, but Oscar still accepted. So did you. And that hurt Pedro so much.

You had been doing a few musicals before you blew up as an actress and were just perfect for the role for Molly but Oscar, god, out of all people. He didn't know if he could handle seeing the you being in love. Even if it was just on stage.

The day Oscar and you accepted the part the three of you met up and watched the movie the musical was based on. You were crying half of the time and Oscar was visibly touched too but Pedro hated it. Maybe only because of the thought of you kissing his best friend for at least four weeks – rehearsals additional. He watched you from the corner of his eye and when he saw Oscar lean in you direction, he quickly wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in. “You are truly a crybaby,” he mumbled and handed you another tissue. For an hour the world was perfect – you, cuddled into his side while watching a romance.

But it soon got back to the cruel reality when Oscar decided, after the movie ended, the best way to cheer you up was singing Unchained Melody to you.

And now he was standing in the doorway to your rehearsal room in the theatre that you had stared working in a week ago, looking at you somewhat between sitting and laying on the orange couch and Oscar above you. Kissing you. Hands roaming over your body, under your shirt, moving it up. It was like looking at an accident – he didn't want to watch because it horrified him, but at the same time he couldn't look away. His heart was crushing, breaking. And the worst thing was, that the first thing that crossed his mind wasn't, that Oscar is a married man.

“Okay, wait,” you said, pushing him away from you. “Is it weird when I do that?”

“What?”

“That.” You tapped against his side, which was turned away from Pedro.

“Normally not but the audience can't see that because that side of us is turned to the back of the stage.”

Fuck.

That was a stage kiss. You were practising. That was all part of the rehearsal. Oscar wasn't cheating on his wife and you weren't... well, you weren't doing anything at all because Pedro had never made the god damn move of asking you out. It had been almost a year since he first met you at the table reading for the second Mandalorian season and he never said anything. Why did he never say anything? He was such an idiot. He could have slapped himself, hit his head against the next wall. What the fuck was holding him back?

“Hey Pedro! Didn't hear you coming.” Your voice brought him back to reality. Oscar moved off of you and you sat back up again. God, he had been starring. He had definitely been starring.

“Todo esta bien, amigo?”, Oscar asked.

“Yeah... Yeah, sure. I am just not feeling well.” That was an understatement. He was feeling sick. Fucking sick. He couldn't wait for the premiere. You would be so happy and excited while the knot in his throat was growing minute by minute until he was forced to sit through two hours of you and his best friend being in love. Usually he was good at separating the human from the role they were playing but somehow it was not possible for him this time. His brain couldn't and it made him mad and sad at the same time because he wanted to be happy for you. Ghost was a musical you were talking about before. It was possibly a dream come true and a huge opportunity to be selected for the leading role and he should be happy for you. He wanted to support you and his best friend on their project and give them the acting advice, they asked him for – that's why he even came here – but his heart wanted him to turn around and walk right out the door and never come back. Maybe even drink to get the images out of his head. They were nightmare material to him.

“Well, don't get us sick. We only have two more weeks until the premiere.”

“I will let you know once I know how to control sickness,” he snapped back a bit harsher than the wanted to. That's what it was. Sickness. A virus. Jealousy was poisoning his heart.

All he wanted was to be there for you. Because he knew how anxious premiers made you. Everyone kept asking you about how you were doing and you always smiled and said that you were just as nervous as everybody working on the production but that wasn't the full truth. Pedro saw it in the way your smile faded for a split second, once the question was asked. He noticed it when you took longer and longer to reply to his messages. He noticed, that you were a little more quiet than usual when you were out for dinner. Stress-crying was a thing you did and he would bet that you had already have a few breakdowns.

He wanted nothing more than to comfort you. To pull you in a tight hug, kiss your head and tell you that everything will turn out just fine, because you were gorgeous in every way possible. You were intelligent and strong and beautiful – simply amazing. Why did he never ask you out? It was way too late to do it now, wasn't it? You had grown to be something like best friends and best friends don't date each other.

He had shoot his shot.

And you would never be his.

Part two

#I am so sorry #My heart hurts #Pedro Pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #Oscar Isaac #Pedro pascal x reader #Reader #Narcos #triple frontier #game of thrones #Oscar Isaac x reader #At least it is hinted #Star wars #The mandalorian #ex machina #I don't know how to tag stuff #Ronja writes

[raisingsupergirl]

My Life With COVID-19: Week 1--Say Goodbye to Food

I never thought being a statistic would come with so much baggage. It's not that I thought it would never happen to me. In fact, I thought it already had happened to me. A couple of times. And maybe it did. But none of them were like this. I'm going to try to explain it as best as I can (you know, for science and future generations), but bear with me. COVID brain is definitely a thing.

I guess this story starts on 12/12/20. That's the day that my dear friend passed away. We were supposed to start a Dungeons & Dragons campaign together soon. Him, me, and three other good friends. But that Saturday, I got the text that he had passed away the previous night (not related to COVID, as far as I'm aware). Well, that following evening, those three other friends and I got together to remember him, to process some emotions, and to drink whiskey. The next day I woke up feeling… less than perfect. Of course, I thought it was from lack of sleep and too much alcohol, but it was weird. I didn't drink that much. Not to feel that bad. And there were some weird things, too. My eyeballs hurt (really bad) like I had a fever, but I didn't have a fever. And my fatigue level was through the roof. Other than that, normal body aches and lack of appetite that come with over-indulgence, so I didn't think much of it. Even when I woke up on Monday with persistent symptoms, I just assumed I was getting REALLY old and should never drink again. Yeah, I'm kind of dumb sometimes.

Monday and Tuesday could be characterized by general lack of energy, some mild congestion, and those danged achy eyeballs. And the only food that appealed to me was soup, and only in small amounts. "Just a little cold," I told myself. Even still, I had the good sense to be extra-cautious with my hand washing and mask wearing procedures. Unfortunately, I didn't have the good sense to get tested at that time. Mostly because my insurance doesn't cover testing (which is $150/swab), but also because I was in denial. I needed to work. My patients needed treatment. I was important… irreplaceable. And, of course, I didn't want to have to call my friends and tell them I'd exposed them Saturday night.

Wednesday was more of the same, but I felt even more fatigued. Then, someone else I'd come into contact with the previous week let me know that they'd tested positive. Crap. That's when the pieces started falling into place. And the last one fell as I was drinking a glass of alcohol (elderberry tincture, actually. Which I'd made myself as a COVID preventative… guess I should have started drinking it earlier…). While I sipped, I was actually hanging out with those same Saturday friends, but this time virtually. We were playing computer games. And about halfway through the glass of elderberry goodnes, I noticed that it wasn't nearly as floral or alcoholic tasting as it should have been. I assumed it was getting watered down, but suspicion started creeping up my spine. And by the end of the glass, it tasted like straight water (which tastes like nothing…). Like some infected dummy straight out of a zombie movie, I told no one and went to bed, hoping against hope that I would wake up to the smell of bacon (or anything).

When my alarm went off the next morning, I popped out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. First thing I did? Took a long whiff of my deodorant stick. Nothing. I stuck the toothpaste up to my nose. Still nothing. Brushed my teeth. Foamy nothing. Went to the bathroom. Thankfully nothing. And then it was time to go downstairs, face my wife, and finally say it out loud. "I can't smell anything. It's completely gone." And that's the moment that it became real. No turning back. One rapid test later, and my fate was sealed. My boss started clearing my schedule for the next week, and my mind started racing with all of the people I needed to call. All the things I needed to do. What my life would look like for the next ten days. Even now, I don't know if the virus was effecting my cognition and emotions or not, but I do know that I was a mess.

By the time I got home, my world was spinning. I was angry, ashamed, confused, defeated, and overwhelmed. Mostly overwhelmed. I made sure my wife had pulled our daughter from school, and then I went up to my room. Not because I was quarantining from them, but because I couldn't handle being around anyone, even those whom I loved most (I mean, I'd be spending plenty of time with them over the next week anyway, right?).

Over the next hour, I felt like someone with an STD contacting all of my past… well, you know. I texted, I messaged, I called. Everyone was incredibly understanding. They all wanted to know how I was doing. And it felt almost shameful saying that I felt fine. "Just a little fatigued, eyeballs hurt a little, some congestion. And the no smell thing." It's funny how that didn't dawn on me yet. In the flurry of confusion, I hadn't stopped to consider what life without smell would be like. That revelation would come later. No, right now I was focused on the bigger things. I wouldn't be able to attend my friend's funeral this Saturday. I wouldn't be able to host Portmas (an annual Christmas celebration with those same friends) that night. I wouldn't be able to go to work for over a week. The days would feel like months… Have I mentioned that I'm a bit of a work-a-holic? Yeah, well, there was a BIG part of me right then that thought, "God did this. I wouldn't slow down. I wouldn't quit working. Even when I was sick, I was too dumb to take a step back. So God took my smell away. It's my fault for being so stubborn. And God finally stepped in." Yeah, those are some thoughts that I'll continue to unpack over the next couple of weeks, but for now it's enough to say that my thoughts and emotions were about as confused as my senses.

Speaking of which, my lovely wife made me a can of chicken-n-noodle soup for lunch. And it felt great. Warm, soothing, and satisfying. But with each bite, reality settled in the pit of my broth-laden stomach. It wasn't that I couldn't taste ANYTHING. There was something there. A touch of saltiness and a hint of umami (look it up). My tongue wasn't completely dead… but my nose was. And so, another cascade of confused emotions. More anger. More fear. Google said "most" patients got their smell back in a week or two, but for some it could take up to a year. And a small percentage never got it back. NEVER!? And at best, I didn't know if I could handle two weeks. Honestly, I didn't.

If you haven't lost your sense of smell, I'm sure you think I was overreacting. I would have, too, before it happened to me (Yes, I'm aware of the irony of my blog post a couple of weeks ago). But I want to try and explain the seriousness of this situation to you. Maybe fore some it's not so bad—those who are suffering REAL COVID symptoms. Those fighting for breath and for life. But for those of use who feel otherwise "normal," it's a panic-inducing affliction. For example, I'm a fledgling home brewer. Do you know what all beer tastes like when you have no smell? Like water with a ghost of bitterness on both sides of the tongue. Do you know what straight whiskey tastes like? Exactly the same with just a slight warmth in the chest. And so, my brewing hobby is done. Just done. And cooking? There's no point. Everything might as well be raw cucumbers and unseasoned French fries. Texture and temperature. That's literally the only variation. Well… almost literally.

In my panic, I NEEDED to know what my limits were. I needed to know if I could find any enjoyment from food. And so, I went to the extremes. Cloves, even when eaten straight, had absolutely no flavor. Straight salt registered a little on the tip and back of my tongue. Sugar felt kind of thick on my tongue, and if I tried imagining it, I thought I could taste it a little. Cayenne pepper was a little tingly in the back of my throat, but nothing more. Horseradish did nothing at first and only a little tingling on the top of my mouth afterward (mind you, I ate enough of all of these things to kill an elephant). And finally, I took a bite of a lime. Whoa! That about knocked me over. Imagine not tasting anything for 24 hours and then suddenly biting into a lime. That's exactly what it tasted like. Okay, well, I couldn't actually taste any lime characteristics, but that SOUR sensation registered off the charts. The sensation was both hopeful and frustrating, and those two emotions fit in perfectly with my general disposition.

That night, I was mean. Cranky toward my wife. She made dinner, and I was bitter about it. Airfried shrimp and tater tots with cucumbers on the side. She was TRYING to satisfy my texture and temperature requirements. And she did well. But it was still ash in my mouth, cotton balls in my stomach. And no one seemed to understand my frustration and fear.

But that night, I realized there was something I hadn't considered, too. My family is close. We hug and kiss. We cuddle. And so, there didn't seem to be any reason for me to start quarantining from them now. Besides, both of my daughters already had the sniffles, so the likelihood was high that they already had the virus. And my wife thought that she'd already had it a few weeks before. But… if she hadn't. If she was still susceptible. I wasn't worried about her safety, so much. She's healthy. She works out, eats right, and nurtures her already strong immune system. But, if she lost her smell, too…

Okay, hear me out. This isn't just about food enjoyment or fart detection (yes, my wife giggled at the dinner table because she farted right next to me without me knowing…). It's about safety. Have you ever considered how dangerous it would be to live in a house with a gas stove if no one could smell? I mean, presumably the kids might notice something, but would they understand enough to let us know? I'm honestly not sure I would take that gamble. So here's hoping my wife keeps smelling, because I really don't want to move out.

Oh, speaking of my wife smelling, there's one last revelation I had about anosmia (lack of smell). For an anosmic person to take a shower is truly a selfless act. Think about it.

Anyway, by the time I post this (12/23/20), my quarantine will officially be over. I will have spent a week at home. So I'll definitely have more to tell. But these first few days are enough for now. Stay safe, friends. And don't forget to stop and smell the hot cocoa before you miss your chance.

#covid-19 #anosmia #no smell no taste #covid symptoms #life with covid #quarantine #momblr #dadblr #mumblr

[redschillzone]

Falling For Ya (Iden Versio x Reader)

(Gif found here!)

Pairing: Iden Versio x Reader 

Prompt: 30. “Stop laughing at me!” | Prompts

Word Count: 2.3k Words 

Warnings: Couple of curse words 

Summary: Reader has a rather rough and interesting crash landing and Iden won’t forget it any time soon. Iden Tag List: @allfiguredout​

A/N: Four writings in a day, all with varying lengths. I’m rather impressed with myself! Enjoy some Iden content!

You couldn’t remember for the life of you how you ended up here and as you tried to wrack through your brain for some type of reasoning all you were given in return was a splitting headache. You couldn’t help the small groan that escaped you as you lifted your hand up to rub at your head, attempting to rub at your eyes as well before you began to blink carefully, letting your eyes suddenly adjust to the sudden bright light that was the sun hitting your face. Once you were certain you weren’t seeing double anymore you blinked once more; Was that the ground you were looking at? But, weren’t you supposed to be standing there? It was there that it hit you and you looked up as best you could, craning your neck to see your legs had been caught within a large group of vines and you let a low groan escape your lips as it all came rushing back to you; You were shot out of the sky by a TIE fighter during one of your dogfights and you just so happened to eject from your X-wing right before it crashed into the dense jungle you were in. You couldn’t help but let out a breath as you attempted to lift yourself up via your core to try and reach at your ankles, doing your best as you strain your arm out and your fingers just barely grazed the vine before you let yourself fall once more, groaning as your arms fell limp over your head. You were stuck and you could most certainly feel the blood rushing to your head. Or was it dripping down your head? Probably both, you assumed. 

You could feel your body beginning to ache in all the wrong places; That crash was something else and you of course couldn’t have picked yourself a better place to hand landed, now could you?

“Fuck me…” You mumbled as you attempted to free your legs once more, lifting yourself up by your core and once more you strain your arms to try and reach the vines, doing what you could to try and grab at them. You even waved your hand around and shouted at the sky.

“Oh why couldn’t I be born force sensitive?!” You shouted at no-one in particular before you allowed your back to straighten out and for you to go limp once more. You were breathing heavily at this point and you were growing tired and were certain you were going to pass out within the next few minutes, but you were determined to get yourself free; Now as to how you were going to do that you still didn’t know but you were going to keep up your attempts. So, that’s exactly what you did for several minutes, going and pulling yourself up and attempting to untie the vines from around your ankles. You were cursing to yourself with each failed attempt before you overall gave up and allowed your eyes to shut as you began to gently sway back and forth from the the force you were using to lift yourself; If you survived this, you were going to yell at Leia about assigning you to this mission on Yavin 4. You hated this planet with a passion; It was hot, it was humid, everything was sticky and you were always sweating like crazy even when you were in the base and in the air condition but it didn’t matter. You probably would have taken Hoth over this place. You couldn’t help but sigh before you opened your eyes to a stick snapping nearby and you swiveled your head as best you could, your eyes narrowing as you looked around. You were in no position to fight and in any case, this would be your resting place, as stupid as that sounded to you and you couldn’t help but shake your head at the thought.

Of course you’d die on a planet you hated; Oh the irony in that situation. You gritted your teeth as you noticed a dark form making their way closer to you through the various brush nearby and you couldn’t help yourself as you squinted your eyes to try and make out their form. Once you had put together just who it was, you couldn’t help but felt your whole body relax as you gave a low chuckle, closing your eyes once more before you began to speak up.

“Commander.. How nice to see you…” You had told her to which Iden couldn’t help but laugh at your current situation; Hanging from your feet a few feet off the ground by a bunch of vines while you looked like an absolute mess. She was grateful to see you were still alive of course; That crash looked like it had killed you after all. She had insisted on going to check to make sure you were alive and as hesitant as Del was on the idea, he eventually gave her the okay to go and check out your crash. Without another word she jumped into her X-wing and away she went to your crash sight, following the billowing smoke at the other side of the forest. 

Seeing your x-wing had just about destroyed her as she landed nearby and removed herself from her x-wing, commanding her droid to conduct a sweep of the area to see if you were nearby or if this crash had officially taken you out. She made her way over to your x-wing once the droid had flown off to conduct it’s search; She was careful to not get too close, as the flames that were roaring from the engines were out of control and it wouldn’t be long before they died out and left nothing but a burnt wreck behind. Once she had confirmed you weren’t in the cockpit she awaited her droid which returned to her within the next couple of minutes. It had reported that it had found a life form and that’s when she followed it to where she was now. She was grateful that Del had allowed her to return because if not, you would have been dead for sure within the day. She couldn’t help but smile through her laughter as she moved to stand in front of you, watching you as she carefully removed your broken helmet from your head. Your hair fell the moment the helmet was removed and she could see the few injuries you had and gave a small hum as she spoke up, gently lifting her hand to wipe away some of the dried blood on your cheek.

“Well this is new, rookie.” She teased you, using the nickname she knew you hated to be called. You had joined the Republic maybe two or three months ago, maybe longer and you were still learning your way around things; You did know how to fly though. That was the one thing your parents made sure you knew how to do; Pilot any ship you made your way into. So, it just so happened to be in your cards that Leia had placed you with Inferno Squadron. She had said they could have used a fourth pilot and with your skills, you would fit the bill nicely. Well, if only she could see you know. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you shut your eyes once more, enjoying the feeling of her hand against your face.

“Oh shut up, and stop laughing at me! It’s not my fault I was shot down and got stuck in these damn vines.” You hissed to her as she all but shook her head and took a few steps back, removing her hand from your cheek as she stopped a few inches away. With a smirk on her face, she aimed her blaster at the vines that held you captive.

“You may want to brace yourself.” Iden had warned you but you couldn’t even open your eyes quick enough before you heard the shot and felt yourself collide with the ground, the dirt kicking up around you as you hit it with a rather hard ‘thud’. You couldn't help the groan that left your body as the dirt cloud began to clear itself, Iden waving her hand around as she coughed lightly as she inhaled a small amount of dirt. She continued to wave away the dirt before she kneeled down beside you once more, placing her gun on the ground nearby.

“I told you to brace yourself, (Y/N).” She had told you to which you shook your head and carefully sat up, the world all but spinning around you as you began to feel the blood return to the other parts of your body.

“Yeah well, warn me about a minute before you shoot the vines.” You hissed to her as you leaned forward, placing your head in your hands as she moved her hand to rest on your back, gently moving it up and down your back to rub at it.

“Noted for next time.” She told you, waiting until she was certain you were okay before she took your hand and helped you stand up, keeping her one hand on your back and the other keeping a tight grip on your hand.

“You’re alright, I got you.” She reassured you as you all but began to sway once more. Your vision was beginning to make you see double once more and you were all but certain that wasn’t a good sign. 

“Fuck.. Iden I don’t feel too good..” You spoke, your voice going quiet before you all but went limp in her arms. The last thing you heard was her calling out your name and that you needed to stay with her.

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

You gave a small groan as you slowly opened your eyes and you quickly regretted it as you shut your eyes once more. What you did see was a lot of white, but also a few areas of black and as you slowly opened your eyes once more, you allowed your eyes the time to adjust before you carefully glanced around to see where you were at. The moment your ears began to hear the beeping of nearby machines you knew exactly where you were; You were in the medbay on the Corvus and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh as you began to relax back into the bed as you shut your eyes for a few more minutes. You could feel the pain medication kicking in and you couldn’t help yourself as you all but relaxed into the bed once more; Iden must have gotten you back to the ship; As to how you were rather curious on and would most certainly need to ask her about it later on.

“Hey.. Glad to see you’re alive, rookie.” A feminine voice called out and you opened your eyes once more and glanced towards the foot of the bed and gave a small smile as your eyes landed on the dark haired woman that stood there, a small smile on her face as she rested her hands on the edge of the bed frame. 

“Hey.. I uh.. Thanks for getting me back here.” You thanked her to which she gave a small shrug as she tapped the frame.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. You would have done the same for me. How are you feeling though? Do you need anything?” She asked, her head tilting lightly to the side and you couldn’t help but give her a small smile as you watched her; She was so damn pretty and her personality just turned you to putty every time she talked to you or barked an order at you. And you honestly found it hot how quickly she could switch from the commander of the Inferno Squad to Iden Versio, a relaxed kick-back girl with a kickass attitude. You loved her, you were falling hard for her and if that crash did anything to you it was help knock some sense into you.

“I uh.. No but I do need to say something..” You spoke to which Iden raised an eyebrow, going and moving to stand beside the bed as she watched you.

“And what’s that?” She questioned you motioned for her to take a seat in the chair which she gladly did so, her eyes still trained on you as they began to fill with worry. What were you about to tell her? Did the doctors inform you of something that they didn’t inform her on? She could feel her heart beginning to beat a thousand beats per second and she couldn’t help but laugh once more as you spoke your words.

“I think I’m falling for ya…” You grinned to her as she laughed away at your remark. You honestly were adorable; She would admit that and she could tell that your confession was genuine with the love struck, puppy dog look you had on your face. Once she began to relax she couldn’t help the few small chuckles that escaped her as she went ahead and leaned over the bed, gently pressing her lips to your cheek as you all but began to heat up at the simple action. You turned your head in her direction and stared at her with wide eyes; Iden Versio had just kissed your cheek and you were over the moon.

“Well, you can fall for me all you want, because I’m going to be there to pick you up when you fall.” She smiled and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Iden had basically just admitted to loving you and you were fucking thrilled. At this point, maybe you needed to crash yourself into some trees and get wrapped up in some vines more often.

#Star Wars #Battlefront 2 #Star Wars: Battlefront 2 #Battlefront ii #Iden Versio #Iden Versio x Reader #Iden Versio x Female!Reader #Iden Versio Battlefront 2 #Iden Versio Battlefront ii #Fluffy friday? #Soft Saturday?

[xiubaek-13]

Better Off Dead

Prompt: Namjoon + “Hold on, you died” “Yeah, well it didn’t stick.” + “I promise I won’t bite. Unless you ask.”

Setting/AU: Vampire AU

Warnings: Character death, swearing, implied sex, vampires

Word Count: 1,949

“Happy Halloween kids!” You aunt called out as both you and Namjoon descended the stairs from your apartment.

You groaned in unison. “Oh my god, please don’t!” You cried out. Beside you Namjoon choked on his laughter. You smacked your friend for his betrayal.

“Ow! The hell was that for?” He winced as he dramatically clung to his right arm.

You huffed. “You’re not supposed to laugh when she embarrasses me like that. I’m a grown adult, not a kid. Besides, it’s Samhain. Halloween is so… commercial and tacky. It’s a special day, not a day for dressing like a twat and handing out candy.”

Namjoon shakes his head as the two of you continue walking towards campus. “Do you really believe all of the lore surrounding it?”

This was one of the reasons the two of you had been friends for so long. He’d let you rant and rave on your soapbox until you were blue in the face. He’d listen to everything you had to say and when you were done, he’d challenge your logic with questions. It was so nice to debate with someone who didn’t just shut you down. “I mean, traditionally the day is to celebrate the end of the harvest & the Celts held rituals to thank their gods for their harvest & to protect them during the winter that was to come. They honoured the dead as it was considered a liminal time, and that’s where the folklore takes artistic liberty. Really it was just that Samhain was halfway between solstices and they considered the veil between this world and the afterlife to be thin, that spirits were free to roam the earth for one night. It was a peaceful celebration but somewhere along the lines it was twisted into satan worship and tales of terror - demons and ghosts and all of that. Don’t even get me started on the vampire stuff.”

He nodded as you spoke, taking in all of the facts you were providing. “I know all of that. The bonfires, the dancing, the fae folklore about being lured by faeries to their circles and never being able to leave. I asked if you believed all of it and if I’m not mistaken, you did not answer me.” His tone was always matter of fact but when he spoke with you, there was always a hint of teasing involved too, just to rile you up.

“I don’t believe in the ghost stories, the demons and faerie lore that associates itself with Samhain. I do believe the rituals for honouring the dead and thanking the gods for the harvest. I believe it’s a time for reflection and for celebration before the cold months come.” You replied. “I also believe that that answered your question did it not?” You teased.

He chuckled as the two of you reached the campus. “You did, but there is no reason to be smug about it.” He poked your nose. “I’ve got like 4 hours of class coming up so I won’t see you until tonight. That is if you decide to grace our Halloween party.” He grinned.

“How quickly do you think Yoongi will throw me out if I educate the partygoers about Samhain?” You joke.

“Try it and find out. I want to see THAT particular conversation go down.” He grinned. “I think he only just decided to start speaking to you again after you tried to take over his St Patrick’s Day party.” You opened your mouth but Namjoon held out his hand to stop you. “For the love of all that is good, don’t start this again. I’ve gotta run, come by tonight?”

“I’ll think about it.” Is the best answer you can give. It’s good enough for Namjoon because he smiles and turns to run off to class. You still have twenty minutes before your next class so you decide to grab a coffee, a decision that you instantly regret when you set foot in the cafe. “Fucking pumpkin spiced lattes and fucking lame costumes. Gods I hate Halloween.” You mutter to yourself.

Beside you you hear a low chuckle. You glance over to find Yoongi standing next to you. His glare freezing you to the spot. “Please, do not go off on one of your manic rants. I haven’t had my coffee yet and I will kill you if you screech like a banshee as those vapid sorority girls.”

“You hate them too, why not let me have my fun?” You ground out.

“Do whatever you want after I’ve left with my life source. Do it before then and Namjoon will have to bail me out of jail for making an attempt on your life.” He bites back.

“That’s an awful way to treat your fuck buddy.” You smirk. Your words don’t phase Yoongi and honestly you shouldn’t expect them to. You know how he is before that first cup of the day and it’s not pretty.

***

You never ended up going to the party, something you regret every day. You never knew that the last time you’d see Namjoon was as he ran off to class that day. You went straight home after your classes and collapsed into your bed, ordered pizza and binged a season of White Collar. You missed the frantic calls from Yoongi, the stream of messages from mutual friends as they tried to check in on you. Little did you know that the worst had happened.

They don’t prepare you for how to feel when you find out that your best friend dies. You expect that kind of thing to happen when you’re both 80 and at peace with the concept. You don’t expect it to happen when you’re in your early twenties, the prime of your life. But it did. Namjoon was ripped from the earth by a drug addict in a mugging gone wrong on his way to Yoongi’s party. The police told you he died quickly from the stab wounds but that did little to make you feel better. All you could think of was that he was alone as he bled out on the shortcut he always took to Yoongi’s place. It was irrational to think that if you were with him that this wouldn’t have happened but you still felt guilty for not being there, for not being able to comfort him.

You went through the textbook stages of grief, Yoongi going through them as well. The two of you had to cease your arrangement, agreeing that time apart to accept the loss of your friend and to heal in a healthy way was necessary. After a month the two of you started to catch up for coffee and lunch, just to chat and to get both of you outside.

Everything reminded you of him, certain places, songs, topics, foods. Hell, even the rain reminded you of him. You could have sworn that you’d spotted him in the distance a few times, only to feel that sinking in your gut as you reminded yourself that it couldn’t be him. Nights were worse because you could still hear his voice.

***

“Don’t scream. Just hear me out.” He said calmly.

You were anything but calm. Until twenty seconds ago you were peacefully sleeping. Then he shook you awake. You had to be dreaming because he couldn’t be here, he could never be here again. Your eyes widened in shock, you brain telling you to scream. Maybe you were seeing him when it was in fact a murderer in your room. You were too scared to even ask yourself why a murdered would wake you up so gently before you know, murdering you. He let go of you and slowly stepped away from the bed. With every step he took you felt a little more at ease.

“I’m just going to sit at your desk. When you’re ready to talk, let me know.” He said, as though this was a normal visit.

“Why are you here?” You started.

“I… well I missed you.” He said slowly.

“How are you here?” You asked.

“I still have a key to the apartment.” He replied nonchalantly.

You shook your head as you tried to sift through your thoughts.  “Hold on, you died.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well it didn’t stick.”

He was too calm for this. You were freaking out because your best friend, who you missed like crazy, was sitting in your room in the middle of the night because he missed you. This would be less terrifying if he hadn’t died two months ago. You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to process this conversation. “Namjoon. Don’t take this the wrong way but I’m gonna need an explanation here because you fucking died and you cannot be here right now. I’m either asleep and having the weirdest dream ever or I fucking lost it and had a mental breakdown.”

“You’re not crazy, but you’re going to hate what I’m about to tell you.” He smiled tightly. It looked like his smile but the feeling was off.

“You know what. Try me, because right now I’m processing that I’m talking to a dead guy so honestly, how much worse can it get?” You were pretty sure you were crazy but no one else was present, except for Namjoon and he didn’t count, to tell you otherwise. You made a mental note to self admit yourself as soon as this conversation was over or at sunrise, whichever came first.

He scratched his jaw as he avoided your gaze. Something he used to do all the time when he had to give you information that he knew would be poorly received. “The police report isn’t wrong, it just left out some vital information. I was on my way to Yoongi’s party when a junkie jumped me and stabbed me. I did bleed out in the alley, scared and helpless, but it was quick and my suffering was short. I said my goodbyes in my mind and asked the universe to look after you because I knew you’d blame yourself.” He paused and made eye contact with you. “There was nothing you could have done, trust me.” You felt a tear slide down your cheek as you heard the story of how your best friend died all over again. “What they left out was the bite marks on my neck that the junkie inflicted before trying to cover them up with the stab wounds. The also left out the part where my body mysteriously went missing after they locked the morgue.” He sighed deeply. “I woke up three hours from here in a cabin. I was confused and terrified but glad to be alive. I had no idea how I’d survived but the pain in my guy made me think I was still injured. I later learned that the pain was in fact, hunger. And that I hadn’t survived. Not entirely.”

Something clicked in your brain at that moment. “Fuck. Off.”

He chuckled. “Please, the cruel irony isn’t lost on me either.”

“Are. Are you trying to tell me, ME?! That you, Kim Namjoon, are a goddamn vampire?!” You spat out in a mixture of disgust and disbelief.

“I promise I won’t bite. Unless you ask.” He shrugged.

“I think I preferred it when I thought you were dead. Honestly, of all the things to be real, fucking vampires?! I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

“I missed you too.” He strode over and enveloped you in a hug.

#kloversnet #thekpopnetwork #kpopwonderlandtag #kwordsmiths #bts fic #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts scenario #namjoon fic #namjoon scenario #namjoon imagine #namjoon drabble #rm fic #rm scenario #rm imagine #rm drabble

[blindedbythedarkness]

Josh,

I guess it’s fair to say I’m feeling pretty weird right now. It also hasn’t been helped by the fact when I was thinking earlier about writing to you, my brain decided to remind me of the little gem of info that this time last year Josh had less than a month to live. Cheers, brain. Way to help me feel better. As you can probably imagine that in itself makes me feel fucking bizarre. It’s horrible to think we were so close to losing you and had no clue. It makes me think again about how you were both so healthy and yet so unwell and just leaves a horrid taste in my mouth.

Anyway, there was some other stuff that made me feel weird that I wanted to talk about too. Firstly, the other night should have been Eurovision night, although given the virus apocalypse right now it didn’t really happen. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to watch any of the appreciation program that they did have on. Eurovision last year was one of the best and last memories I have of you and yet again I’m afraid of risking mentally “taping over” it. Unlike many memories I can absolutely believe it was a year ago now as it’s covered in the faded haze that all memories are that came before your death.

Man, that was such a good night. Chilling on a bed of pillows and blankets. A whole pile of snacks that we’d all brought. I think we all got takeaway too. Was that the first time you and B brought coke especially for me? I think it might have been. That was so sweet of you. I can still picture it now; me sitting with my legs stretched out on the bed (you always allowed me to stay there because of my bad back). A on one side of me and E and I on the other. You in that big, fancy, red gaming chair that you were so smug about. B and J on the floor in the corner in a little pillow fort of their own. There were so many of us you had planned to make sure that you could show Eurovision on two separate monitors. Just another thoughtful thing you did. It was warm and cosy and dark, apart from the glare of the screens and the fairy lights above your bookcase (B’s handiwork of course). I think I held Flaffy for most the night, too. You usually let me. They were cute and something to fiddle with. I can still feel the soft, but slightly worn wool of their body in my hands. The little felt hat they wore and the small bobbles that were stuck to it. The tiny fluffy pompom on the top, that just wasn’t quite on centre. The visual memories may fade, but I can still sense other parts like it was yesterday. I remember that the whole thing seemed to go far too quickly and how we spent the break when the phone lines were open watching our favourite acts ever on YouTube. You were also way to excited about showing us this song that had lyrics along the lines of “Oooh you touched my tra lala. Ooh my dinky dong.” (You can’t see me right now but I’m rolling my eyes and laughing at that part.) Oh then when you put on Verka Seduchka and we danced and sang along to it, much to the confusion of I. 

I remember thinking as we sat there that this is just what I’d always wished I’d had. A whole group of friends that I loved every one of. Being able to have actual parties for big events. It was the thing people always seemed to talk about but I had never experienced before. I suppose it’s a beautiful, poetic irony that I had no idea it wouldn’t even last another month. It was a good fucking night, Josh. But my God it hurts to remember it now, knowing everything that was coming. Like a happy photo framed by slowly burning edges.

I guess it’s kind of understandable given how weird I’ve been feeling that I’ve suddenly developed the desire to see that house again. It started in a dream I had the other night when a girl I used to know showed up with an album of pictures of it and I found myself asking her if I could have a few. The girl, I should mention, was one who dropped out of school aged 13 after trying to kill herself. I guess that’s significant; you must all be stored in the same region of my brain. A little squad of neurons having a suicide party (I have to laugh). Yesterday, I tried to find pictures online. I was hoping there would be some from last time it was up for rent, but I couldn’t find anything. In the end I settled on the single picture of the outside I could find. And I just stared at it. For ages. I don’t know why. 

It sounds fucking weird to say that looking at a google maps image of the house you lived in when you made the decision to kill yourself brought me comfort. But it did. On the one hand I think my brain was trying to comprehend the scale of the decision you made within its walls. But equally, I think it brought me peace that a part of me could go back there. As though through staring at it I could imagine I had just pulled up there on a Saturday evening for another night of board games and vine compilations and everything this past year had just been a horrible nightmare. I think for just a second it allowed me to be back there. It wasn’t a nostalgia for better times; my brain was back in better times. I suppose that’s why I wanted to see your room again so badly too. I just wanted one more chance at the happiness I felt when I had been there. It’s funny the things you will do for a few minutes peace I suppose.

Anyway, that’s why I’m feeling weird right now, Josh. I guess I at least feel better for sharing it with you. Love always.

C

#c talks #c rambles #Josh #suicide #suicide prevention #suicide awareness #mental health #mental illness #mental health awareness #mental health support #grief #grief support #grieving #mourning #loss #bereaved #bereavement #weird emotions #depressed #depression #eurovision #nostalgia #memories

[verus-veritas]

Metabods: Change of Mind (1)

Time for another favourite story of mine. It’s a bodyswap story written by “Mango Deville” on the Metabods site. I really, really love this story and it’s definitely one of the Top 3 Best Bodyswap Stories of all time! /Verus

This happened a few years ago now.

Stuart was just lying there, unable to do anything with his life. I had come into his room on a late night prowl of the hospice made more restless than normal that night due to the news I had received that day. My suspicions had been confirmed, I had inoperable liver, stomach and bowel cancer giving me only a few more months to live.

Not that I could really complain, at 64 years of age I know that I had had a reasonably long and active life. Although I hadn't been in an intimate relationship since my last lover and I parted company twenty-five years ago I had to be grateful for what I'd had. Let's face it, it was a life of sorts at least, unlike some of the patients whose physical welfare I tended as the resident physician and who tonight I looked in on. Most were here only due to the “wonders” of modern medical technology.

Case in point was Stuart here, 23-year-old son of a wealthy industrialist, all but killed in a motorcycle accident on the family estate about a year ago; physically his young body had healed completely, flawlessly you might even say. His brain, however, had never recovered; he had never regained consciousness and brain scans failed to reveal any activity. In a less advanced society he would have died and been laid to rest after the accident. But his parents had denied him this natural process, refusing to accept the medical facts and well able to afford 24 x 7 intensive care for what was basically only the shell of the vivacious and high-spirited man-boy that I had also known, as private physician to the family. His mother regularly spent long hours by his bedside trying to revive him with her conversation and massaging his surprisingly still very fit body; there were hardly any signs of wasting away, a rare situation that gave her hope. But there was never any response and it was probably a matter of time before they finally accepted the inevitable and let him go.

I looked ruefully at Stuart, his chest rising and falling rhythmically but somehow mechanically; in the dim light I could see the heart stimulating pad that was taped to his firm chest. A respirator sat beside the bed but it was not expected to ever be used. During my tenure at the hospice I had grown to accept the tragic waste of patients like this as part of life's cruel irony. In the soft glow of the machines that were keeping his body alive and on that day of all days the irony of the empty shell of such a beautiful youth lying here for want of an active brain resounded heavily in my mind. Irony, because for want of just such a healthy body my brain would soon be silent like his.

Many thoughts had gone through my head that day but I don't quite know what prompted me to decide to try out such a crazy idea. For some years to relieve the boredom of my normal work I had experimented with brain wave patterning, always with laboratory animals of course but ultimately as a possible means of cancelling out criminal and antisocial behaviour in humans too. I was not unaware of the ethical dilemma of this concept but was not really expecting any major breakthroughs to need to worry about those realities now, if ever. And now it appears that nothing would ever come of it anyway, despite some interesting results among some of the larger mammal subjects I had tried lately. The concept was for the “good” brain wave patterns of one subject to be read into a computer and “mapped” into the other subject's brain, erasing the negative patterns. I had been experimenting with horses recently (the hospice kept a few for the active but terminally ill patients to enjoy) but to get the strength of signal required there had been problems with feedback. The donor subject would get some of the recipient's brainwaves back through the system, usually for example it would respond to the recipient's name (as well as it's own still) and other behavioural anomalies. It was as though there'd been a slight merger of memory. Certainly the recipient benefited from the experience as behavioural patterns immediately took on the donor horse's profile; it even responded to the donor horse's name! There was some evidence of a merger on this side too.

Of course all this experimentation was done on the quiet and was completely unknown to the other staff of the hospice, but I had documented everything I had done on the laptop and the main copies were on my desktop computer at home.

Perhaps it was ill-formed thought processes caused by the reaction to my bad news but also there was a feeling that maybe my experiments could help Stuart here and perhaps other patients like him. There was not also some degree of pride in the thought that my “brain” was somewhat worth saving; having been gay all my life had meant I had not had children to pass any of my characteristics on to. Perhaps I could pass my brainwaves over to Stuart and he would be able to function again? At the same time it would be like I was passing him some of myself, my characteristics so that he could make use of them. I decided there was nothing for either of us to lose, either of our lives would be measured in months now, as things stood.

So that night I went back to my office and got my experimental apparatus, consisting of a laptop computer, a pair of skullcaps, an electrical transformer and some loops of wiring to connect them all together. On my return I plugged in the transformer and connected the skullcaps to it and the laptop in parallel. I booted up the computer and loaded the program and realised I would need to modify the parameters for the different body weights (for the electrical charges) and relative brain masses (for the mapping) of humans compared to horses. I entered the data and the computer quickly calculated the settings it would feed to the rest of the apparatus. I positioned a chair by the bed and placed the laptop next to Stuart's left arm, facing the chair. I then placed the recipient's skullcap on his head and located it carefully, as I had learned the criticality of its correct positioning with the previous experiments. Stuart at least did not move with the unfamiliarity of it, unlike the horses.

The other cap I placed on my own head and, using the mirror across the room over the washbasin in which I could see myself from where I stood next to the bed, positioned it carefully. I sat on the chair and placed my right hand in Stuart's left one and clasped it tightly (this wasn't necessary but I appreciated the feeling of warmth it gave me). With my left hand I clicked the laptop mouse button to initiate the sequence. I remember the feeling of buzzing in my brain rising from almost nothing to what no doubt had caused the horses to react nervously. For them I had resorted to mild sedatives recently but had not even thought of it for myself, having only just decided to do this on the spur of the moment. It was nothing really compared to some of the pain of the cancers I was carrying in my body. The buzzing was getting to be most objectionable and I remember thinking that at least I was confident that Stuart would not be feeling anything. And then I blacked out.

I woke with a jolt, the buzzing in my head was down again to a bare minimum. I went to open my eyes but the lids seemed strangely heavy as they do when you are awakened suddenly from a long deep sleep. My eyes took some time to focus clearly though there was no problem seeing with the light in the room—I could make out the clock on the wall across from me, it read a quarter to 1, about 12 minutes after I had started my “experiment”.

Then it struck me! I was looking at the clock from a different angle from what I should have, sitting on the low patient's chair beside the bed; I was higher than that and my neck was at a reclined angle from which it was a slight strain to focus on the clock. And I could feel a hand in mine but it was my left hand, not my right one!

Noting the stiffness of my body I pushed myself upright with my free hand and realised it was the bed I was on, not the chair! And the hand I was holding was that of an older overweight man who was slumped motionless in that very chair I was sure I had been sitting in only minutes before. And that man was me! I was looking at my own body from afar—was this an out-of-body experience? Slightly panicky, I searched the room and my eyes fell onto the mirror over the washbasin and there was the ultimate shock! Looking back at me was Stuart, animated and sitting up in bed! And I saw the startled look on his face in complete accord with my emotions. I moved my head and Stuart moved his too! I raised my right arm and waved my hand and Stuart raised his arm and waved back at me. How could this be, was this possible, was I inside of Stuart's body?

Just then the fact that I (or was it Stuart?) was still wearing the skullcap caught my attention—perhaps instead of merely transferring brainwaves more than that had gone across; my consciousness in fact! So where had Stuart's consciousness gone? But then he hadn't had any consciousness had he? Is that why my (former) body lay slouched in the chair? As the thought dawned on me I instinctively reached up and removed the skullcap and it's wiring from my.. er.. Stuart's head. How would I explain this, that the former me was now at least comatose possibly dead and I was now alive inside of Stuart's body? It would appear to everyone that I had “stolen” his body! And what a body to steal! Prime of youth 6 foot 2 23 year old with a slim but muscular physique, blue green eyes and sandy coloured hair. And then there was his flawless skin, skin that when he arrived last year had acquired a golden hue from outdoor activities in the summer months but was by now somewhat paler from his time in the hospice. No one would ever understand.

I reached over and saw that my former self was indeed lifeless. Without brain activity and the life-support system that had kept Stuart's body alive all these months it had probably taken no time at all for the body to die, certainly less than the 10 minutes I had been unconscious. There was obviously no going back now. In a strangely horrified reaction to something that I had called “me” for over 60 years I shook free of the hand that still clasped mine.

Perhaps I could hide what had actually happened? My brain ticked over quickly—I would have to remove all traces of the “experiment”. With some effort I reached over and removed the skullcap from what was formerly my head. I wrapped the two of them together and reaching down to the other side of the bed, opened the cupboard door and tossed them inside. The transformer was a standard issue one though there had not been need of one for any of the equipment in Stuart's room. Again with some effort I reached down and switched it off. I picked up the laptop computer from the bed; I could see from its display that it had been coordinating and recording the miraculous process that I had just been through. Somehow I had to save this data but not let it get into anyone else's hands, of course. Fortunately I had previously loaded a rewriteable CD into the machine as I had previously found this to be the easiest and most secure way to transfer data from my experiments to the desktop at home. I quickly typed in the commands to copy the data onto the CD, noting the stiffness in my fingers. I guess when you haven't used your muscles for months, as Stuart hadn't, you can't expect them to be anything but stiff, despite his mother's massages.

My immediate thought was to delete the files from the laptop lest someone discover them but stopped myself; I normally waited till I knew the CD could be read before deleting the files, a habit formed from making an early mistake with saving data. I remembered I could encrypt them so did so and set the password to “Change_Of_Mind”, my “codename” for the experimental work I had been doing. I removed the CD and placed it into an empty CD case that I saw was lying on top of the bedside cupboard, next to the portable CD player with which I had seen Stuart's mother play his favourite music in her efforts to revive him.

Finally I pushed my former body back into the chair and slumped it over to one side (away from me).

I closed down the experiment program and opened my expenses spreadsheet, did a minor change so that it would look like I had been working on it, and launched the screensaver program. I positioned the machine on “my” lap and arranged “my” right hand as though I had been typing but it had fallen loose.

Satisfied that most of the evidence of my experiment was now removed and a plausible view of “my” former body's death was established I lay back for a minute to think about how I could “become Stuart”. I knew the boy well enough, delivering him and being the family physician for all his 23 years, but it was gonna to be hard for them to accept the inevitable differences in our personalities. I decided that perhaps they would believe that it was the result of the months of coma, a form of amnesia, maybe. I, too, would need to remember what it was like to be young and free of worries.

I had been lying there for about 15 minutes and realised one last thing. I was supposed to be comatose and there I would be perfectly normal in the morning when someone would find us. Only one thing to do, knock myself out for some time and then I could “awake”, to everyone's miraculous relief, no doubt! I remembered the tranquillisers that I had been using to give myself a few hours sleep each night, relief from the pain of the cancers. They were in my breast pocket! I reached over and gently removed the strip, took four from it, replaced the rest and then smoothed down the jacket again. From the cupboard I took the glass of water Stuart's mother used to moisten his lips... er... my lips with. Swallowing the pills was not easy (even my throat muscles were unused to activity) but after a moment I'd got them all down.

I lay for another 10 minutes or so before I could feel their effect but while I was waiting another thought occurred to me. Once or twice I had arrived to visit Stuart as the hospice's Chief nurse Peter had been finishing sponge bathing Stuart. I had been slightly jealous of the strongly built male nurse's job, really only when it came to Stuart, I admit, but couldn't help wondering at his enthusiasm to take on this particular patient with such personal zeal. My suspicions were confirmed when driving past a gay bar on the other side of town one night I saw Peter coming out of the bar, and he wasn't alone. That was some time back and I had seen him again on two more recent occasions also leaving the bar. But both of the later times he was alone which had surprised me because not only was he well built but he was quite good looking with a white blond mop of hair and possibly Nordic features. I reminded myself that gay life in our town was not necessarily a hectic social whirl (it certainly never had been for me my whole life) and with shift work perhaps Peter did not often meet other available gay men. The second time I saw him come out alone I actually felt real sympathy for the man.

On the last occasion that I had arrived before Peter had quite finished Stuart's sponge batch I discovered that he was gently cleansing Stuart's genitals, and the sight of it was enough to make me even more jealous. From where I stood at the doorway I could see that Stuart's penis and balls were quite large and not only was Peter bathing them meticulously he was obviously enjoying the moment too, from the sizeable bulge I could see in his white uniform trousers. I momentarily wondered had Stuart gotten an erection then, as a response to the warm soapy water, whether Peter would have “helped him out” if he had thought he was not likely to be disturbed. The thought had sustained me for a number of nights in my own bed, too.

I raised my “new” hand and looked at it; it was a reasonable size for a man. I then thrust it down under the covers until I located “my” genitals. Sure enough the penis I felt there was a size that surprised me even at such close quarters and my balls were easily larger than my hand could grasp together. I could almost feel an erection coming on (I was starting to get used to feeling things through Stuart's body) but the tranquillisers were kicking in. Instead I contentedly dropped the weighty objects between “my” legs and fell into a heavy sleep in which, I am now convinced, parts of Stuart's life were revealed to me in flashbacks. This would prove to be a common occurrence over the next few months.

(End of part one)

Source: “Change of mind” by Mango Deville on Metabods.com

#bodyswap #jock #selflove #permanent #metabods #changeofmind

[mlovesstories]

Adopting An Angel Part 15 (Final)

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Warnings: death, suicide, language, major angst, medical situations, hospitals

MN- Middle name

Word count: 1370ish

A few minutes later, they heard a scream. 

“We are here to celebrate the life of YN, a daughter, sister, and friend, who was taken too soon.”

The Ackles’ held back tears as they leaned into each other in the front row of the church. They had flashbacks to that horrible night where they found JJ screaming after she saw YN on the floor of her own room. YN had a seizure- and it killed her.

Danneel gave the eulogy, a very sweet remembrance of her daughter. Next, Jensen sang one of YN’s favorite songs while playing guitar. He couldn't make it through the whole song without excusing himself. Jensen brought the shoulder strap over his head and put it back on the stand.

He walked out of the sanctuary. Danneel chased after him. To keep the schedule, friends and family shared their memories of her with the attendees while Jensen and Danneel talked in the foyer.

“Jay! I know, I know. Come here,” Danneel grabbed Jensen’s arm, spun him around, and attacked him with the biggest hug she could muster.

“I can’t, Dee! She’s gone! YN is- was- my girl. How-“

“Me too, Jay. Come here,” Danneel pulled him into an empty side room. They sat down on an old pew. “Lie down,” she positioned herself so that his head was in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair. “Cry, baby, I’m right there too.”

———-

“AHHH!” Jensen woke himself up from a nightmare with a shout.

“Mr. Ackles?” A doctor walked up to where Jensen was seated in YN’s hospital room.

“Yes, ma’am?” He stood, rubbed his eyes and shook her hand.

YN is alive. Breathe.

“I’m Dr. Mariah. I came to check on YN earlier, but you had fallen asleep. Is now a good time for me to update you on her status?”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” he walked into the hallway with her.

“She had what we call a tonic-clonic seizure. It’s also known as a grand mal. Since she was asleep and you were not close by while it was occurring, we don’t know how many she has had tonight. Have you heard of this kind of seizure before?”

“She has had seizures previously, but I don’t know the name for it.”

“Well, these can be very severe, sir,” the doctor plainly stated. “Her brain is fighting the reorganization that has gone on. She is very tired as you can tell.”

“So, will she be okay?”

“She has to wake up first, Mr. Ackles. YN is probably exhausted. Her brain and body have been through a lot. That would be my guess as to why she has not even stirred yet,” the doctor reiterated.

“Okay, thank you,” Jensen sadly shook her hand. After she left the hallway, Jensen called his wife to update her.

————

“No, nothing,” Jensen answered Jared’s question over the phone.

“Damn, that girl is stubborn,” he responded.

Jensen chuckled. “Always has been.”

“The nanny, Gen, and I will take the kids. Dee should be there soon.”

“I knew I loved you,” Jensen said. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t ever deny it!” Jared laughed.

———-

YN’s eyes opened. Her head hurt, and she was disoriented. She frantically tried to get up from the bed.

“No, YN!” Danneel put her hands over YN’s as she tried to get rid of her tubes.

“Hey! YN, you’re okay. Relax, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? I know that voice. 

YN froze after the prompts from her parents. She took in her surroundings and dropped the tubes that were occupying her hands.  

“You’re okay, YN,” Jensen said calmly. YN’s muscles relaxed, and she leaned back on the bed.

“Umm- Da- Danneel? Jo-, no. Jensen.”

“Yes, sweetheart. You’re safe, I promise.”

“Thank goodness. You’re awake,” Danneel sighed.

She barely remembered our names. Short term memory loss, says the doctor. We can deal with this. 

———

A few days after YN woke up, she was released to go home.

“What are your meds still doing here? I gave them to you five minutes ago, kiddo,” Danneel handed the pills to YN. “You can’t leave them out. The babies will think they are candy.”

“Oh. Sorry, Dee,” YN said solemnly.  

“Are you okay?”

“Perfect, why?”

“You only say ‘perfect’ when you aren’t perfect, YN,” Danneel chuckled at the irony. YN started crying suddenly. “What, baby? Why are you upset?”

“That night-“ she sniffled. “I didn’t take them on purpose. I’M SORRY, OKAY… I’m so sorry,” YN whispered and ran into Danneel’s arms.

Danneel accepted the hug, but she was miffed.

“What? You skipped your meds?” Danneel backed away and put her hands on YN’s shoulders so that they were face-to-face. The daughter nodded. “Why? Why would you put yourself in danger like that?”

“I couldn’t- I didn’t think I could do it anymore,” YN cried loudly. “The seizures, school, family stuff. I can’t catch a break! I thought if I didn’t take the pills, I might have a really big seizure and then problem solved. I’m so sorry, Dee!” Danneel’s shirt was soaking wet from YN’s tears.

She tried to- ah shit. 

“Oh, sweet girl!” Danneel gasped and held back her own tears as she pulled her oldest child into her chest. YN started shaking and collapsed to the floor.  Danneel went down with her to ease the fall. “Don’t you EVER scare me like that again. You understand me?” Danneel put her palms on YN’s cheeks and shook her wrists. She jostled YN just enough to keep her attention. “Don’t you dare think that you are a mistake or forgotten!” Danneel wrapped her arms around YN, and YN nodded vigorously.

“I know! I’m so sorry! I just-“

“You are so valuable, why can’t you see that?” Danneel said out of desperation rather than anger.

As emotions settled, they FaceTimed Jared together to work through what to do next while seated on the kitchen floor.

“Oh, YN. I got you. We all do. Please come to us next time. We love you,” said Jared.

“I know.”

After Danneel and YN calmed down with Jared, Jensen was alerted of the situation. He wanted to fly home immediately, but his girls refused.

“No, Jensen. I’m good. Stay at work.  I’ll do whatever you want, just stay there. Dee and I got this for now.”

“No-“

“Yes, Jay. We’re fine.” Danneel assured him.

“Okay, but you have to call me every day, YN. If I call, you pick up, got it?” Jensen expectantly waited for an answer.

“Yes, I promise,” she smiled. “I know you’ll fly home and kick my ass if I don’t.”

“Damn straight.  And you do whatever Jared suggests. ALL of it.”

“Yes, sir” YN sighed in relief.

————

The next few weeks were difficult, but the family got into a rhythm again. YN had promised to pick up some structured hobbies to keep busy and got a referral for Jared’s therapist.

“Mom! It’s here!” YN yelled with excitement.

“Okay, Cool.  When are you going to give it to him?” Danneel asked.

“This weekend. He’ll be gone for cons later in the month.” YN realized.

—————

“Hey, Jensen! Can you grab my license? I left it in the counter!” YN yelled into the kitchen.

“You just got this in the mail yesterday, kiddo. Don’t lose it,” he walked it over to her.

Her plan was going swimmingly.

“Hey, that’s weird. Look at my name.” She handed it back to him.

YN MN ACKLES

“That’s not right. Did they accidentally put the wrong name?” Jensen looked at it again.

“Actually… I changed my last name. Dee helped.”

“What?” He was taking it all in. “You did this? Your last name is really Ackles?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t even know the man who I got MY last name from.  Why would I keep it when I am an Ackles anyway?” She beamed.

“You are so sneaky! Come here, YN!” He opened his stance. YN ran into his arms. He picked her up, spun her around, and then they crash-landed on the couch.

“I love you, Dad.”

———-

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! It’s so hard to say goodbye to these characters. :( 

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[alia-turin]

That’s a lot of self indulging cuteness and some arguing. Hope ya’all enjoy!

Fic Title: Not Strong Enough Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Rating [Warnings]: M [mention of body injury, SFW] all chapters will have different warnings Pairing: Luche x OC, Nyx x Luna Summary: 3 years have passed since Noctis disappeared and Luche finds himself on the side of unfamiliar road with no recollection how he got there Note: I was listening to Apocalyptica’s Not Strong Enough while writing that hence the title. It’s VERY suitable sing for the fic.

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Tagging: @birdsandivory @jojopitcher @lazarustrashpit @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy

She woke up few times during the night, for no apparent reason. It wasn’t a nightmare or even a sound that made her opened her eyes she just did. Every time he woke up he was there, his arms wrapped around her, his hot breath touching her skin. It was familiar and foreign at the same time.

Eventually she woke up in the morning in an empty bed, all the covers wrapped around her. She had been so tired she didn’t even hear Luche waking up and leaving. While the sleep was still wearing off her mind she just enjoyed the pleasant feeling of finally sleeping in bed but then it hit her. He was gone. They were in Nyx’s house. She jumped quick off the bed finding her clothes all over the floor from last night. Dressed as fast as she could and rushed out of the room. The princess was in the kitchen, her daughter on the ground playing with toys.

“Have you seen…” she started the princess interrupted her with a friendly smile.

“They went out early. Nyx needed help with something around the wall.” Luna explained and then added as she saw the worry in Ada’s eyes. “Don’t worry. Nyx won’t do anything unless provoked.”

“How did you manage to convince him to do that…” Ada went closer to her and saw that she was actually making potions. She recognized some of the ingredients, it was healing potions.

“You were right yesterday, we have bigger things to worry than killing each other and Nyx thinks you are a good person.” The princess gave her another friendly smile and Ada just couldn’t help but feel guilty. “In all fairness I did tempt Luche with the ring, so I guess there is some small justice.”

“Princess…” Ada started but was interrupted again.

“Call me Luna please.”

“Luna. I’m sorry I brought that to your home and I’m sorry for everything he did…before.” Ada said calmly. “If I knew Nyx was here in Galahd and even had family, Luche is the last person I would have brought.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that.” She pushed the potions aside and cleaned her hands. “You want coffee?”

“You have coffee?” Ada asked surprised and the princess nodded. “Yes, please!” Luna turned around and poured the black liquid in a mug. Ada realized last time she had coffee was years ago. “It’s almost gone in Lestallum. Whatever we find it’s not to go around. It’s usually finds keepers.” Ada enjoyed the coffee for a moment then continued. “I have been apologizing for him for three years, that it has become a habit.”

“He doesn’t strike me as the man who needs an advocate.” Luna said but was interrupted by the cries of the little girl.

“It wasn’t because he needed it. I needed it.” She admitted a bit sheepishly. “Nyx was my friend many of the others were friends as well. I wish I could have stopped him. I guess I apologize for not stopping him not that much for what he did or didn’t do.”

“How did you hurt yourself?” the princess spoke to her daughter that was still crying. Just now Ada saw a small cut on one of her fingers. “Can I ask you to hold her while I grab something to cover it.” Ada got up and grabbed the child from Luna, but before the princess could even turn around se used spell to heal the small cut. “That’s more effective I guess.”

“I’d rather use magic for that than for…well anything else.” The little girl had stopped smiling and was curiously looking at her finger.

“Nyx always does these things with fire that attract her attention. Sometimes I’m worried he would set the house on fire.” Luna said jokingly.

“I have something safer. Can I have a glass?” Lune gave her a questioning look but passed her an empty glass, Ada placed it on the counter and cast the spell. A small snowstorm appeared within the glass. “Way safer.” In her arms Sylva made a happy sound and just observed the snowflakes dancing.

“She has never seen snow.” Luna smiled.

“I figured. First time I saw snow was when I left Galahd, I was already fourteen at that time. She could show off later that she had seen snow.” Ada watched the girl and smiled to herself. “There aren’t many children in Lestallum. At least not her age. People are scared. Most of them can barely protect themselves, I guess they are afraid they cannot protect another life.”

“Is it that bad?” Luna made cup of coffee for herself and they both sat around the table, Sylva still in Ada’s arms.

“Yes and no. It is mostly safe, but we are losing a lot of what we have gained. Lestallum is safe, but there are close calls now and then.” Ada winced at the thought. They did fight hard to grow the safety zones and now they were all losing. “It is why we wanted to check Galahd. Islands are easier to defend.”

“I’m not sure you will find much luck here.” Luna said calmly. “Everyone fought with tooth and nail to build all that here and we are barely keeping it. There is life on the other islands, people manage, but the lack of electricity is killing them. Hard to keep the demons away with no light and Nix is the only person that can use magic.”

“Why you can’t bring power?” Ada knew they had water plant, surely it could work for more than this small settlement.

“There is some issue with the plant. When we first arrived, people had just managed to make it up and running, but only at about twenty percent. Nobody here had enough knowledge to fix it.” The princess sighed. “Nyx tried to boost it with magic, and it did for a bit, but he can’t do it all the time.”

“Perhaps there is a way.” Ada smiled. “I just need a cell tower that works.”

 “Taking me far away to blow my brains.” Luche smiled mostly to himself as he followed Nyx out of town.

“Don’t tempt me. It’s Ada and Luna that are stopping me from leaving you here half dead, not your amazing personality.” Nyx groaned from ahead.

“How do you plan to pull that off.” Luche eventually asked as they walked maybe another fifty meters.

“Pull what off?” Nyx stopped and turned around obviously not pleased at the whole conversation.

“You and the princess. Last thing she was engaged to the then prince, now king.” Luche leaned against a tree. “Didn’t occur to you he might object?”

“I will cross that bridge when I come to it.” Nyx said a bit annoyed. “If you managed to convince Ada you are better man than you are, I’m sure I have fair chances.”

“Ada is a good person, it wasn’t a question of if but when.” Luche added. “Lots of things can go wrong in your case.”

“Well then I will just offer the king your head and I will solve my problems.” Nyx grinned all teeth, Luche laughed.

“Okay cease fire. Truce.” Luche finally offered after they just looked at each other for a bit. “I doubt we can be friends again, but at least we can avoid being enemies. For the greater good.”

Nyx just stared at him as if Luche was talking in foreign language. Fixing things did go through at least not ending up in a fight with Nyx so he had to at least try.

“Fine.” Nyx finally said, but his body language was saying that nothing was actually fine. “Why did you do it? I mean did you really expect the Empire was going to give you what you wanted? And what did you want? Fame? Money?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Luche sighed but didn’t end it there. Fixing things. He promised he will fix things and he had to do it. “Nyx be honest with yourself. Distance yourself from kings and all that bullshit. You know where that war was going. Sooner or later they were going to reach Insomnia and one way or another they were going to destroy the city. Maybe it was going to take months maybe years, maybe we were going to die somewhere in the battlefield before that happened. I saw a chance, I used it. I didn’t want to be someone’s toy soldier anymore.”

“That’s what you subscribed for!” Nyx said a bit annoyed. “You knew what you got into and then what? Got tired of it?”

“No, I got enlisted to protect the people, my home so one day I can have home as well. See Galahd again. Have a life.” Luche exhaled loudly trying not to work himself over it. It was pointless, they had to reach some common ground, not just blame each other’s ways. “The more we were stuck in that the less likely it was for any of that to happen. You were there. That battle before the treaty was brought up. We were all going to die that day, you know it. The Empire stopped attacking, if they didn’t maybe handful of us would have lived.”

“How about the Captain? How did he get to you?” Nyx just shook his head as soon as Luche finished, obviously not getting that explanation but at least accepting it.

“We talked one day. Some thoughts might have slipped my mind, we agreed on certain things. That we are just puppets in the King’s hands and all that. That was probably a year before all that happened. We started planning thinking wo might join us and who wouldn’t. I don’t think it’s necessary to explain in which category you fell.” Luche shrugged. It all sounded so simple now, so pointless. Things ended the way they would have ended even without him joining Drautos. The irony of life.

“You could have stopped him!” Nyx argued.

“Excuse me have you seen the man? I’m a lot of things but stupid isn’t one of them. You used the ring’s power to beat him, imagine doing it without the ring.” Luche fought back and realized it was all going back to hell.

“Maybe I would have had better chance if someone didn’t shoot me.” Nyx responded but Luche just laughed. That was going nowhere.

“Look we can either put that in the past or argue all day.” He pushed himself from the tree and offered Nyx his hand. “We had our differences, we are standing on the same ground right now trying to achieve the same thing. We can either jump each other and see who comes on top or just accept things as they are.”

Nyx looked at the extended hand then looked in Luche’s eyes. The man made a face as if having some internal struggle what is the right choice here. Eventually he extened his hand and shook Luche’s, but it all seemed as if someone was making him do it. Didn’t really matter as long as he knew he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open it was all good.

“Now why did you take me here?” Luche asked after their small peace ceremony was done.

“That thing there is old transmission tower.” Nyx pointed behind himself. It was a transmission tower but was all covered in weeds and jungle plants. No wonder he didn’t see it until now. “When we started building the settlement we gut all towers from the power plant, they were using too much electricity. Ada said her phone is working, something I cannot say for myself, so we need to get that up and running.”

Luche just made a sign for him to lead the way and so he did. Getting to  the tower wasn’t that hard, connecting it back to the system was different matter. Neither of them knew really what they were doing, but with some trial and error, magic and lots of swearing they were doing some progress.

“So what are you going to do now?” Nyx eventually asked him which was unexpected, they have been all business so far.

“Stay here, now that you don’t want to kill him. That’s my home.” Luche explained as he reached for a cable that was tangled with some roots.

“There is an empty house.” Nyx said after probably ten minutes of silence and work.

“Are you offering me…a home?” Luche had to try not to smile. Nyx will always be the same man. A good man.

“I assume Ada wants to stay as well and as much as I want to see your ass dealing with demons she is punished enough in life by having to tolerate you.” Nyx passed him a cable and started looking for a control panel. “You are both good fighters, we have few of these.”

“Don’t get her into that.” Luche said serious. “I will pull my weight in defense or whatever else, she has done enough.” Nyx gave him a questioning look and he continued. “She took it upon herself to fix my mistakes. She needs a break.”

Nyx didn’t say anything but nodded. Of course he understood from what Luche can make out of the whole situation he was himself protecting the princess more than she needed. Nobody in Galahd knew she was the princess and the fact she had dyed her hair pointed to the fact they wanted to keep it like that at least for now. He didn’t blame him.

“And it’s working.” Nyx said eventually as a light on the control panel blinked.

#my writing

[caticorn61]

Forget-Me-Not Part II

Summary: You could never forget him, but what happens when an accident causes him to forget you?

Genre: Angst (Chanyeol X Reader)

Word count: 2566

A/N - MERRY CHRISTMAS!! I hope you all enjoy this!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six

Beep. Beep. Beep.

At first the bright light of the hospital made your eyes ache but as they focused they felt like a miracle in and of itself. You were alive, to your surprise, and seemingly in one piece. You asked yourself routine questions, your name, your address. A sighed escaped your lips as you realized your sanity was still intact. You felt a little high, probably because of the drip in your arm. Your arm was set in a sling, your shoulder aching as you tried to move it. You wiggled your toes to check if they worked. All clear. Tears welled in your eyes. Your emotions from yesterday hitting you gradually, the realization of what had happened sinking in. You tried to raise your arms, but a sharp, intense pain, in your right shoulder prevented you from making it very far. You felt the bandaged area, unsure of what had happened, and sighed.

You laid back and closed your eyes, images or yesterday flashing dramatically across your eyelids. Chanyeol. His limp, bloody body, the last thing you remember and the only thing you could clearly see now, imprinted into you. You needed to know if he was okay. Was he alive? If so is he stable? Was he as worried for You as you were for him?

The door to your room creaked open slowly, Baekhyun’s eyes peering through the crack. You smiled and waved him in causing his eyes to widen.

“Oh my god, guys! She’s awake!” He yelled over his shoulder as he rushed to your side,“Are you okay? How do you feel?”

“Could be worse. My shoulder hurts like a bitch.” You say and try to sit up. “How’s Chanyeol?”

Baekhyun pushes you back, “He’s fine, he’s far better than you are. He woke up a few hours ago. I haven’t had much time to talk with him, the doctors have been examining him nonstop. With the way the car hit they are checking for head injuries.”

The others shuffled in one by one, Chen taking his seat to your left and grabbing your hand gently. Kai and Xiumin stood at the end of the bed and Kyungsoo stood in the doorway. You could feel the energy in the room shift. You felt warmer and safe knowing they were here.

“Sehun, Lay and Suho are waiting for Chanyeol in his room, they said they’d be down once they have news.”

“What happened?” You manage.

“A drunk driver hit you, mainly your side, it caused the car to flip and now here you are.” Chen said. “You have injuries to your shoulder mostly, they did surgery on it. Aside from that you have a pretty nasty cut on your leg and a few others on your thigh.”

You nodded. Chen drew calm circles around your hand and you noticed you weren’t wearing your ring.

“Where’s my ring?” You asked, your heart skipping a beat. You’d be damned if you had lost it.

“The doctor gave it to me to hold onto.” Baekhyun said as he pulled it from his pocket. The small band was in pristine condition. “Where did you get this?”

“Chanyeol gave it to me on our date.” A small smile grew on your face. You didn’t want to tell them of the engagement yet, not in a hospital bed. You wanted to tell them with Chanyeol but it killed you not to explode with the excitement you held. These boys were your family, they would be just as happy as you.

But you waited. You waited with them, discussing a lan of action. The two of you were to stay with them in the dorm again until you were capable of living safely on your own, since you worked with them and can’t drive with your arm impaired, they concluded this was the wisest plan. They had already talked it out and paid your rent for the next month.

“Thank you.” You say, “for everything. How did i get so lucky to have you all as my family.”

Chen’s lips curled sweetly, “You’ve always been there for us, how could we not be here for you?”

A doctor strutted into the room, eyeing you as he introduced himself. “Glad to see you are awake. You gave us a bit of a scare but you will be okay.” He shined a light in your eyes and examined your wounds. “You are not to use your shoulder for at least two weeks, at which point we will examine you again and see your progress. You will no doubt need physical therapy for it but you should make a relatively full recovery.”

A wave of relief came over the room, the others relaxing a little.  

“How’s Chanyeol?” You asked.

“He’s suffered some fairly minor injuries, his left wrist is fractured and he has a concussion, but nothing substantial. We are looking for any injuries to his brain function, memory and the like. He’s shown some issues in remembering little things and was a bit slow to recognize some of his members but time should heal him up. In fact he should be out of his final test if you would like to see him.”

You nodded and A nurse wheeled in a chair for you. Butterflies piled into your stomach. All you wanted to do was run to him, to hug him and never let him go. You knew he would hate not being able to work, you wanted to be there with him and help him through this.

Baekhyun pushes your chair, he made small talk as you made your way to him. You could hear it in his voice that he was worried.Chanyeol is his best friend, and one of yours too. To see either of you like this would eat him, even if you were going to be fine. You fidgeted your thumbs, the doctor's words weighing heavy on your mind. Even though he had reassured you, you needed to see him alive and smiling for the bloody picture to be replaced.

Chen pushed the door open and you heard them greet each other. The others followed closely after, you and baekhyun making up the tail end. You felt your heart skip when you saw him. Cuts and bruises splashed over his perfect face, his wrist in a brace but a smile never leaving him. He talked happily with the doctor and Suho, relaying New information between them on the tests and the results. From what you hear they won’t know anything for a few hours.

His eyes landed on you and he smiled. It was different. You couldn’t pin point why, but it made you nervous.

“Who’s this?” He asked innocently.

—

You shuffled into your apartment. You took a deep breath, having to continuously remind yourself that it was a necessity. Chen threw the keys into the counter and disappeared into the bathroom.

You looked all around your apartment mindlessly, as if you were searching for something, some form of comfort and reassurance that this was a dream and you were alive. You hadn’t felt alive in days. Not since then. You replayed the moment over and over and over until you fell asleep, every time your heart broke a little more. Each breath you took felt like salt in your already seething wounds. Every look you gave him dripping with fear and hurt but he never saw it. He didn’t look at you, not the way he used to. You avoided him when you could, party by choice and partly because the doctor wanted the two of you to rest. Despite this,the doctor also wanted you to be around him. He gave you guidelines to follow in order to help him remember. Be around him, take him to places he went with you but never verbally tell him. He didn’t want to force he memory since this is such a big part of his life, it could interfere with his overall healing.

He had explained that this can happen in patients who have suffered from a brain injury while in an accident as traumatic as this. His brain shut down everything related to the whole situation and forgot it. He didn’t remember the day, the car, the place. He didn’t remember you.

The doctor told you that in time he would most likely remember. He couldn’t tell you how long it would take and if it will come all at once or piece by piece.

You hadn’t seen Chanyeol since yesterday. Baekhyun had the duty of bringing him home from the hospital this morning and getting him settled into the dorm. You and Chen had the duty of packing your stuff and retrieving a few of the things Chanyeol kept here.

You say down at the counter and breathed in again. Mixed smells tumbled around you. Coffee, cologne and small subtle hints of life danced with them. Your eyes landed on the forget-me-nots he had given you, the petals wilting slowly, a few of them littering your countertop. The irony of them leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.You fiddled mindlessly at your ring, the metal almost burning its presence into your skin. You weren’t sure what to do with this small piece. You admired it again, an ache pounding in your chest as you remember the meaning and words that came with it. How could something made with so much love being so much pain?

“What see you thinking about?” Chen said as he took a seat beside you.

You chuckled dryly. “Chanyeol gave me this hours before the crash.” You said softly. “He took me to where he asked me out and asked me to be his wife.”

You looked at Chen as tears threatened to fall. His features softening as he traced your face, your name uttered under his breath.

“I was his fiancé for three hours. And now i am nothing to him.”

“That’s not true.” He said as he brought you close, “He is still there. He will come back. He might be dumb but the smartest thing he’s ever done was make you his girlfriend. Even he can’t forget the single smartest decision he’s ever made.”

You laughed and wiped tears from your nkw puffed eyes. “Just keep faith. He loved you more than anything and nothing will take that from either of you. He will come back.”

You sighed in silence. His words running through your head as you willed them to be true, to believe them even in the slightest.

Chen kissed your temple softly and patted your back. “Come on, let’s pack.”

You filled your suitcase with as many clothes as you could, picking out ones you could wear easily given your impaired shoulder. Chen finished packing before you did, everything Chanyeol left had fit comfortably in one duffel bag. It didn’t take long to get your things gathered either, mainly gathering enough to last you the next week.

By the time you for to the dorms you were more than ready to go to sleep. Your shoulder aching with every breath you took. You threw one of your bags into your bed,regretting insisting that you carried at least one of them. You massaged your neck, the tension only adding to your issues. Your head thumped, the pain in your body taking whatever energy you had left.

You sat on your bed and massages your temples, willingly you head to stop throbbing but to no avail. A tired sigh escaped your lips and you tilt your head back. You felt all of your emotions flying through your chest. You couldn’t pinpoint any single one, just one collective storm of confused pain. Is this what grief felt like? He hadn’t died, but yet it was as if your life was reset. You had lost your whole world in one night. The person you called home, your rock, he was your everything but to him now you were this person he was just supposed to remember. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t yours. It was the luck of the draw. Maybe god decided things were going too perfectly for you, maybe you did something and maybe it’s just how the cookie crumbled. It didn’t change reality but it didn’t stop you from trying to rationalize it.

You wondered what the next few days would hold. You wondered if those days would become weeks or if those weeks would become months or years. If they would become the new reality. You wondered if someday no one would remember what you had. The idea made you sick. You rubbed your face. God how long had it been since you showered? You opened your suitcase, deciding a shower would do you some good. You took out a loose shirt, forgetting a bra entirely,not wanting to try and get it over your shoulder, and picked your favorite socks and a pair of sweats.

You heard him as you walked out of your room. His stance comfortable and his aura as bright as always while he chatted with Suho about something he saw online. It was as if nothing changed.

“How are you feeling?” Suho asked quickly, his caring nature kicking in.

“Exhausted. I'm going to take a shower and sleep.”

“Mm, it’s open, do you need any help with your shoulder? I can call Lani.” He said. Lani was one of the other makeup artists and one of your closest friends. She was reliable in every way, always kept you up to date in the hospital and promised to cover your shift until you cold come back.

“She’s at work,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?” Suho asked again, “i won’t be here Incase you get hurt, i have a meeting.”

“I’ll be here.” Chanyeol spoke up suddenly. You looked up in surprise. You honestly expected him to avoid you if anything. Suho looked at you, an expression you couldn’t read plastered on his face. “If she needs me she can yell and i can help somehow.”

Suho looked at you, waiting for your approval. He knew this whole thing had to be hardest on you. You knew he felt bad he had to leave.

You gave a small smile and nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

Suho relaxed a little. “Well alright then, I’ve got to get going. Call if you need anything okay?”

You both nodded and waved him out.

The two of you stood in silence. This is the first time you had been alone with him since the accident. The air around you was still. You avoided his eyes at all cost even though you could feel his on you. You knew if you looked at him you would break.

You shuffled in place, “Uh, I… better take a shower.” You stutter and strut awkwardly past him.

“Wait.” Chanyeol said, his good hand rubbing the back of his neck. You stop and turn to him, accidentally making eye contact. Your breath caught in your throat. His eyes were the same. He was the same. Somehow that hurt more. “I know that I’m supposed to remember you. I’m supposed to just remember on my own and i know no one can tell me anything about you. I’m doing my best to remember. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

—

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