#thread; vivian

[normallyxstranger]

“Tell me to back up. If you don’t, I won’t.” (Wolf to Vivian)

SLOW–BURN SPARKS & QUIET HEARTFIRE // @phantom-overdose

Vivian had just caught her breath when it hitched in her throat and came out a gasp. She wasn't pinned, not quite, but he was very close, towering over her. There wasn't time for her to compose her face, to sort out what she felt and push it down before it showed. Naked emotion showed in her flushed cheeks, the brightness in her eyes. Annoyance at herself, that Wolf could see her wanting like this, flashed there too.

She set her jaw, lifted her chin. The look turned to something defiant, challenging. She said nothing, yet held his gaze with her own.

"You won't?"

[normallyxstrange]

@genrcsavvy​ sent: ❛ You are the heart of this Pack. Without you, it’s nothing. ❜ from Murray to Vivian

     “Are you trying to get all poetic with me?” she asked, one eyebrow arching when she side-glanced at her cousin. It sounded like something Glen would say—the same sort of sentimental encouragement. It always surprised her just how similar the brothers were sometimes. 

      “It sounds nice,” Vivian went on, flicking a hair from her face, “but I’m pretty sure the Pack would get along fine without me. We’re survivors.”

[normallyxstranger]

Vivian kept her eyes down, staring at her fingers. Blood under her nails—she hadn't realized that. Now she smelled it, copper and rust.

Panic.

Quickly, she lowered her hands, slipping them into her jacket pockets. Her eyes remained cast to the ground, staring sightlessly until she steadied her breathing and the tightening in her chest faded. Only when the wolf within quieted again did she lift her head. Her eyes no longer blazed as golden.

"Actually," she said quietly, "I was hoping for some help."

[normallyxstranger]

“Sit with me on the floor… it helps.” (Wolf to Vivian <3)

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇 — 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 // @phantom-overdose

"Okay."

She was no stranger to panic attacks, episodes of bad mental health, times when she just wanted someone there, near, to act as her anchor. Glen usually filled the role when she needed it. From her cousin's example, Vivian learned how to help.

At Wolf's request, she sat on the floor, adjusting her skirt over her knees. She looked at him, brow furrowed in concern.

"Do you... want to talk it out?"

[normallyxstranger]

"We could do it again, if you want" (Wolf to Vivian)

PROMPTS FOR THE MORNING AFTER // @phantom-overdose

———

She laughed, unable to help it. "You are just never sated, are you?" Which, in this instance, Vivian didn't mind so much.

Lightly, she raked her nails along Wolf's chest. "Maybe not right this second, but... yes. We could... again."

If you want.

Yes, Vivian very much wanted.

[normallyxstranger]

"Kissing you sounds like a very good idea" (Wolf to Vivian)

"SOOOOO... WHAT IF WE KISSED...?" PROMPTS // @phantom-overdose

———

Ducking her head only hid so much of her pleased smile. She tried to draw it back into something vaguely amused before she looked back up at him.

"Sometimes you have very good ideas—but that's not one of them."

[normallyxstranger]

"When have I ever let you down?" Kaylee & Vivian

Crossing Lines Sentences, Vol. 2 // @southern-belle-outcasts

———

Vivian cocked her head a little one side, lowering her brow slightly. She didn't answer right away—too busy taking a sip of coffee—but when she did, she really put the indignation in her voice,

"Three weeks ago. When I asked you to pick me up from work and you were 'busy studying' " —she even did the air quotes— "and forgot. That's one."

That one, admittedly, wasn't a common occurrence. Kaylee could be generally reliable, but she had asked. Vivian wasn't mad about it any more, but maybe just slightly bitter.

[normallyxstranger]

“So, I might have… set the microwave on fire. A little.” (Wolf to Vivian 😆)

Misadventures in the Kitchen, Sentence Starters // @phantom-overdose

———

The acrid smell of melted plastic and burned electronics was overpowering. Vivian held a hand over her nose, but that did absolutely nothing. She gave up on that—damn her heightened senses—and instead put her hand on her hips. Smoke still curled from the ruined appliance.

Yeah. The microwave was dead, never to half-ass heat a Hot Pocket, or burn popcorn again.

"A little." She gave a laugh. "How? Did you put metal in it? Or a small bomb?"