#I experienced levels of frustration with this one but dropping it picking it back up and re-drawing some shit helped tremendously

[corvys-clover]

Blueeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Icon commissions ->

Clicks for Palestine ->

Help a family in Gaza ->

[incendiobrock]

Baby Girl {Matt Sturniolo}

Request: Linked here! (My requests are OPEN please send me some!!)

Prompt(s): failed cooking/baking attempt

Warnings: mentions of giving birth (cryptic pregnancy), language

A/N: I'm so bad at writing anything to do with pregnancy but I tried my best to do this imagine some justice LMAO

Chris and Nick sat at the kitchen table as you were at the stove top trying to fix some lunch for the three of you. Your boyfriend Matt was currently out of the house for a modeling campaign which left the three of you hungry and without a car. Everything had been irritating you as of lately. It was like any minor inconvenience felt like the end of the world, bringing you to tears.

You had already felt agitated when Matt had to leave for work, wanting nothing more than to spend the day cuddled up with him in bed. Now, you were on the verge of tears as you tried to pull together making this lunch. Nick and Chris were joking around and laughing oblivious to your stress as you huffed over the pan, realizing that you had burnt the chicken you had been searing.

"Fuck." You cussed under your breath, taking the pan off the heat and looking at the chicken that was burnt to a crisp on one side. You went to pick up the tongs that were sitting on the side of the kitchen counter but your hand accidentally bumped it wrong, causing them to drop to the ground. That was your last straw, tears fell from your eyes as you stared at the tongs that were now on the dirty kitchen floor.

"Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?" Nick asked you, finally noticing that something was up. The kitchen chair screeched against the hardwood flooring as he stood up to come over to your side. Chris was getting up too, noticing the disaster you had created in the pan.

"No, I'm not alright! I burnt the fucking chicken and dropped the tongs on the ground!" You lashed out, covering your eyes with your hands out of frustration. "It's alright, it really isn't that burnt." Chris said, rubbing your upper back and trying to comfort you.

All of a sudden you felt sick to your stomach, becoming dizzy. You gripped onto the counter as you tried to steady yourself from swaying. There were stars clouding your vision and you instantly started to feel hot and sweaty. "I don't feel good..." You mumbled, dropping yourself down to your knees as you tried to steady your heavy breathing. Next thing you knew you felt the most intense pain in your lower abdomen, almost like a bad period cramp.

"Oh my god! What's happening?" Nick questioned, dropping down to your level so he could try to figure out what was wrong.

"I think I need to go to the hospital." You groaned, clutching at your stomach as the nausea continued to wash over you. "Call Matt!" Nick yelled, directing Chris to get ahold of your boyfriend. With shaky hands, Chris brought his phone up to his ear, listening to the dial tone.

"He's not answering!" Chris panicked, trying to figure out what to do next. Chris ended up calling Matt three more times, getting sent to voicemail every one of them. Eventually, Nick had resorted to calling an ambulance which had picked you all up within twenty minutes. Nick and Chris had to wait outside of your room as you were being examined.

The nurses were taking a look at you while asking you a bunch of questions about your symptoms.

"And are you sexually active?" One of the ladies asked, taking a look at her computer screen as she recorded all of your data. You shook your head yes as another wave of sharp pains hit your abdomen.

"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?" She asks, causing you to widen your eyes. Now that you thought about it, it was strange how emotional you had been feeling for the past few months. Not to mention the spurts of nausea you would feel throughout the day, especially when you would think about a specific food you didn't like. But you had never considered the fact that you could be pregnant, still experiencing your period every month. The nurse pulled out the ultrasound machine, taking a look at your belly and confirming that you were indeed pregnant. A cryptic pregnancy is what they called it and it was pretty rare.

You experienced some hormonal changes and sickness, but your period was always regular and you never had a baby belly so this was a complete shock to you. The nurse warned you that the baby would be coming within the next few hours and you went ahead and accepted the epidural.

After an hour and a half, dealing with contractions, the delivery was about to begin. Matt still hadn't made it there and you were starting to get nervous that he was going to miss the birth entirely. Neither of you had planned or even really talked about getting pregnant, so you also hoped that this wouldn't complete destroy your three year long relationship. Matt wanted to be a dad eventually, but right now you were both still young and he was fully invested in work.

---

"Congratulations, you have a beautiful baby girl who is completely healthy." The doctor said to you, passing you the newborn who was bundled up in a blanket. As you looked down at the baby, taking note of the fact that she had Matt's bright blue eyes, the door to your hospital room flung open. Startled, you glanced over at the doorway seeing Matt at the entrance, Chris and Nick standing timidly behind him.

"Baby... I'm so sorry I'm late!" Matt apologized, rushing to your side. The nerves rushed over you again as you waited for him to take a look at the baby you had brought into the world. He leaned over the bed, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your forehead. "I'm a dad?" He asked softly, smiling at the sleeping baby. You let out a laugh of relief as you nodded in response to his question. Chris and Nick were still frozen in the doorway until Matt ushered them over, "Guys, come look at my two beautiful girls."

All three of them looked at your baby girl with awe, any doubts you had now long gone. You knew from that moment forward this baby was going to be the most spoiled, and loved from three of the most amazing people in your life.

[koolades-world]

happy father's day!

i actually wasn't going to make a special post until i actually made a very telling connection just yesterday morning. i think the reason i just adore dadcifer is because lucifer reminds me so much of my own dad. they can both seem so cold and unapproachable from the outside, but actually is so thoughtful and cares a lot about those they love. they both have a secret love of animals, would do anything for their family, and are very protective of them. they're both secretly softies for their children (or brothers in luci's case) and as i (or the brothers) start to age, i realized just how much he did for me in the past

my father injured his back pretty bad in a car accident when i was little, but he still continue and did his best to my dad despite that, and still made it to every single one of my award ceremonies and games on top of all his work. he couldn't do things he did before, like piggy back rides and anything that involved sitting on the ground and while that's certainly not on the same level as what lucifer experienced during the fall, i feel as if it may be comparable to the loss of one pair of his wings and the symbolism of it all. through all that lucifer still got himself together and continued to be what his brothers needed him to be.

sorry for really rambling there, but my dad really is one of the the reasons i pick myself whenever i fall, and making this connection has caused me to treasure lucifer like i hadn't before

i hope for the love of god you never find this, but this one was written with you in mind, dad. thank you for everything and i love you <33

Dadcifer

Lucifer was at his desk, trying to complete paperwork. He'd made excellent progress in the past few hours, and he hadn't even realized that much time had passed. He wasn't having a bad day, per say, but it was just another monotonous day. But, it wasn't done yet. If he could keep up at the rate he was currently working at, he thought he could be finished a little earlier than he usually was.

Absentmindedly, he reach for the next paper, but he felt his heart drop a little when his hand past through where the pile should have been and met the table. He turned to look to see if maybe he'd just missed the papers, but all the papers were gone. Thinking he might have accidently knocked them all on the floor, he stood up and leant as far over he could over his desk. But, they were nowhere to be found. He decided to double check that his other papers were where he'd left them, but to his surprise, found not a single paper on his desk.

Lucifer began to grow frustrated. He didn't know how his papers suddenly vanishing was possible. He knew his brothers must've had something to do with it. They always did. He had no new messages on his phone, so with a sigh, he decided to go see what they were doing.

He could hear Mammon and Levi bickering in what he presumed was the living room. That was a problem he'd have to solve before it got out of hand again. While he'd like to prioritize his missing work, making sure the house didn't burn again down took precedence. He was in no hurry though. He wasn't eager to break up yet another fight between his brothers, but it always fell on him to do it anyways.

However, to his surprise, neither Mammon nor Levi was in sight. Before he could digest what he was seeing, he heard seven voices yell in unison, "Happy Father's Day!" To both his right and left, a party popper was set off, showering him in confetti in every color of the rainbow. After he got past the initial shock, he saw a simple, but well thought out set up. A banner was stung above the fireplace that said 'Happy Father's Day' and while it wasn't exactly even, he could tell it was done carefully. Streams adorned the walls and the light fixtures, and some balloons sat in a couple corners of the room. A large pile of presents and a large card sat on the coffee table.

"What is this all about?" Lucifer shook off some of the confetti to see that it was Mammon and Levi who'd covered him in it.

"It's a celebration for you, of course!" Mc was in the center of the group of the remaining brothers. Beel and Asmo had large grins on their faces, and while Belphie and Satan looked less thrilled, they looked as if they were trying to appear that way.

"Why?" He questioned. He raised an eyebrow at all the decor.

"You do so much for all of us. We figured it'd be fitting to celebrate a human holiday known as Father's Day. It's when the people in the life of father, or father figure, celebrate them for just that reason. You call them your brothers, but you might as well be their dad considering how much you care for them." Mc told him. They didn't mention that he could actually be considered a father, but it was probably best that way to avoid setting off Satan. "You've done a lot for me too. Even though I wasn't part of this family to begin with, you welcomed me in just like I had been. You've supported me through so much, and we all agreed we should celebrate you for this." Mc held out a bundle of flowers to him. Lucifer took them, studying them. Before he could get out another word, they fiercely hugged him. His other brothers took this as their signal to join, mobbing him in their embrace.

Lucifer almost felt as if he could cry. They'd gone out of their way to set up everything for him, including an abundance of gifts. Considering his birthday was at the beginning of that month, he was both surprised and impressed. "I don't know what to say. Thank you." He was honored. Everyone backed up after a minute or so of the embrace, seemingly with something else up their sleeves.

"We have one more thing for you!" Asmo exclaimed, clapping his hands giddily. Mc looked as if they were concentrating, and slowly, a cake levitated into view which Mammon quickly intercepted and extended towards Lucifer. It had a couple candles in it, and it had the name of the holiday on it. Each letter was in a different color and appeared like they were all written by different people. Some letters were very prim, while others were rough at best. Besides that, everything else seemed professionally done.

"Luke helped us bake and decorate this cake, but we each put on a letter or two of the message." Mc explained. With a wave of his hands, Satan lit the candles. Everyone gathered around Lucifer and Mammon, waiting for his response. He sighed again, but this time, it was one of happiness. He blew out the candles, causing the group to begin cheering. From behind him, Beel placed a headband of some kind on Lucifer's head.

"Now everybody knows you're a dad." Beel smiled.

"The only reason the others aren't here is because they're currently celebrating Simeon and Barbatos for Father's Day too." Mc had Mammon place the cake on the table so they could cut it.

"That explains why Luke was the one who helped you." Lucifer nodded.

"Now, get over here, silly. You have presents to open." Mc waved him over to sit down. They lent towards him to whisper. "Just so you know, this was Satan's idea." They could hardly contain their laughter, which Lucifer matched with a smile that rarely graced his face. As much trouble as his brothers caused, and sometimes Mc too, he was eternally grateful for all of them. He couldn't have asked for a better family.

[bekkachaos]

Sooo many good wips to choose from but you know I have to go with my beloved 🏥🏥🏥

🏥 Buddie Grey's AU (my beloved)

this fic means so much and I'm really getting somewhere with it right now! I'm not necessarily writing in order but have something fun (not for ravi) from chap 4!

Buck just let out a long sigh, his jaw tight and teeth clenched. He wasn't just going to drop it, and he knew it.

"Hey uh, Buck?" he turned around to see Ravi standing a few feet from him, squirming a little and looking more than a little uncomfortable. "You got a second?"

"Sure?" Buck responded, eyeing him curiously.

"Uh, in here?" he opened the door to the supply closet they stood closest too and Buck's eyebrow shot up. "I just need you to look at something for me. Like, professionally."

Buck's mouth quirked in the corner but he started following him through the door anyway.

"We have the same level of training you know," he teased, his lips now turning into a smile. "You can't just diagnose yourself? Or you know, see someone more experienced?"

Ravi rolled his eyes as he closed the door, looking for a lock but not finding one and walking past Buck to where he was obscured from the door by one of the shelves.

"Yeah no I think I'm pretty sure what it is but I just can't... I can't really get a good angle on it. I mean it's, well, it's my..." he started gesturing around his hips, and it took a moment for it to click, Buck taking in a breath and nodding his head with the realisation.

Ravi wasn't meeting his eyes and Buck was pretty sure there was a mix of embarrassment and frustration on his features, so he tried his best to remain serious, folding his arms over his chest and nodding towards him expectantly.

"You don't need to be embarrassed, I'm a doctor, we're both guys," he said, trying to lighten the mood a little. "Just whip it out."

Ravi grunted with another eye roll and sighed. He mumbled a quiet 'fine' before taking one last look at the door and then reaching to pull down the front of his scrub trousers. Buck's brow furrowed as he stepped in closer to him to take a better look. Ravi's eyes were focussed on the ceiling as he let out a long heavy breath through pursed lips. Buck's head tilted to the side as he inspected the rather uncomfortable looking rash in an incredibly inconvenient place, biting his lip as he made his diagnosis.

He stood up straight again and Ravi quickly readjusted his pants and looked back at Buck expectantly. He clapped his hand on Ravi's shoulder and gave him his (not even close to) best sympathetic expression.

"Congratulations, you've got syphillis."

pick a wip, and make me write!

[onmyyan]

seeing the surge of Delmont brothers content on my feed has my brain churning so I have arrived once more to feed content/ideas

Its high key inspired by the prev anon talking about wanting to cuddle with the boys but I just love the idea of being spoilt rotten since I've never experienced it personally skjfdh

If you're following me so far, consider- princess treatment from the boys. Like Sugar Daddy TM level treatment.

Caspain would never let his darling raise a single hand when he's around. He'll put on a full spa treatment for you, using those skillful hands of his to work out the knots in your shoulders and spine. I mean- he works with dough plenty enough that it's no problem for him to reduce you to a mess. I can also just see him on his knee, taking your foot in his hand and sliding on heels- new ones he's just picked up just for you. How does he know your size? Because practically every other fancy piece of clothing you own was a gift from him. Just imagine his large hands carefully fastening a necklace on his darling, warm fingertips lingering for second before he'll lead them downstairs for a full 3 course meal he's made and a night of fun together out in the town. Show, movie, the whole works!

With Gabe around there's no shot that you drive anywhere. You leaving work? He'll pick you up. Hanging with friends? He'll drop you off AND pick you up afterwards. Delete your uber and lyft app from your phone because there's no shot he'll let some random person take HIS darlin around. He's pulling up in a custom car he's been working on, the pristine V6 engine purring like a kitten by the time you exit your house/apt. Gabe'll be waiting against his car, relishing the opportunity to open the door for you and greeting you with a kiss. If you're hanging with others then he takes the extra steps to escort you to your ride, a firm hand guiding you by the small of your back. Lowkey, okay, maybe high key enjoys the sugar daddy position and just giving you small orders like having you leave your coat at home so you can wear his jacket or having you put on the new choker he's gotten you before he'll arrive to pick you up. Seeins his girl be so good for him just gets him going, ya know?

Ricky finds the retail therapy to be relaxing, especially after a long day of work. Hell, if the work day is real bad I can see him in his office absentmindedly scrolling through his phone while he multitasks- if just to look for new things he wants to put you in. And when going out to shop with you in person, the guy gets a free show, having you do a lil twirl so he can take in all angles so there's no complaints from him. And when he sees the smile on your face??? The shine, the sparkle in your eyes when you find a new scent you want or a blouse that's practically made for you- the mere sight of it melts the tension in him instantly. What he really loves though, is taking out the frustrations of the day on your clothes- the very same one's he's bought for you! The sounds of your torn buttons clattering to the floor as he gets his helping of sugar from you is practically music to his ears. No need to worry though, he'll happily replace them if you behave~ Or don't behave, he'd probably like that better tbh- if just so he can show you who's in charge.

Marcos has expensive tastes as is but with the extra money he makes selling drugs he's more than capable of giving you proper princess treatment. Think VIP lounges and tables at fancy restaurants, he'll even pay a lil extra under the table so you get some much needed privacy for some one on one time... or imagine him presenting you with the prettiest pair of earrings you've ever seen... before quickly turning away so he could wipe the blood off of them proper. Best not to ask about where he gets some of the fancy shit he gives you, the challenge of physically getting the stuff he gives you just appeals a little more than clicking a button on his phone or swiping his card. That aside though, he'll take you wherever you want and likes giving you freedom to dress however you'd like so each time you get together he'll get a cute lil surprise by seeing how you put his lil gifts to use. Out of all the brothers he'd buy you the least amount of clothing, preferring to have you in the fancy stuff he already owns and wears since it really makes him feel like your his.

Manny takes a while to realize that the two of you are in a real sugar daddy kinda thing lol. For him it's only natural to go 110% and spoil your one and only soulmate. When he does realize that his darling really likes that princess treatment though he's going all out. He'd travel the world together, staying and banging in only the finest of hotels and airbnbs. All that romantic stuff you see like people riding gondalas or having dinner at the top of the Effiel tower? He wants to do that with you and will. Probably the least dommy bout spoiling his princess bc he just really wants affection, okay? Not like you could ever deny the puppy dog look he gives you when the guys practically begging for you to try on a new set of lingerie for him.

FLAWLESS OMGDNDMX DMD SLSI S.DI LOVE????? THANK YIU

[radioactivepeasant]

Halloween Fic Special Preview!

(A little chunk of Jus Sanguinis for the week while I try to scrape together enough brain cells to finish the last major scenes)

The coastal city of Spargus had lived with the storms for generations, watching the once broad oases narrow and dwindle as the winds displaced topsoil at devastating rates. The sands had swallowed many of their warriors before the Spargans created The Crawler. The massive armored vehicle, replete with emergency supplies and enough armor to give even a metalpede pause, undoubtedly saved lives. But it was slow moving, and Wastelanders on foot often did not have enough time to get to the mobile shelter before the damage to their skin and lungs was beyond the power of an eco pack to heal. And being the only vehicle of its kind meant that if one part broke -- say, a blown head gasket -- the behemoth was stranded until a replacement could be located and driven to its location...after the storm had ended.

"Piece of crap-!" Jak aimed a vicious kick at the front end of the cab and slammed the door behind him.

"This never happens when Daxter is here."

"I don't know whether that is meant to compliment Daxter, or to insult me," his companion said dryly.

King Damas pulled his scarf further up over his mouth and nose and gestured grimly to the massive tank on the Crawler's back.

"The wind is picking up. We need to get inside."

Jak shook sand out of his goggles and dropped to the ground to join him.

"What about the rest of the raiding party?" he snapped, "We can't just leave them!"

Damas’s hand twitched -- the only visible indication that he had any opinions on Jak’s tone.

"Getting angry is counterproductive," he said sharply. "They are all experienced survivors. They will know their best bet is to make it to Broken Sandal Canyon."

You're tense, too! Jak wanted to shout.

But fighting with Damas, he had long since learned, was a very poor life choice. Besides, this man had all but pried him out of the jaws of death before he even knew what Jak was capable of, binding their lives together despite the doubts of his subjects. Jak knew he didn't deserve to be lashed out at. But he just couldn't help it!

Without Daxter he was on-edge. Unsettled.

It couldn't be helped: Daxter was very unwillingly resting at home with some variation of a local childhood disease. As it turned out, being born hundreds of years earlier did not make one immune to The Gripes. Jak, curiously, had yet to manifest the allegedly contagious disease, despite having been in close quarters with Daxter until leaving with the raiding party that morning. Perhaps it was his generally eco-saturated nature that made him resistant to some germs?

Speaking of eco, were you paying attention to your dark intake during the ambush?

Jak shoved the thought away and trudged through the worsening winds to the back of the Crawler.

His eco levels were a little high, sure, but nothing he couldn't handle. He'd gone days without exploding before.

Liar. You exploded every single day in Haven, or near enough to it.

At least the engine failure didn't prevent anything else in the Crawler from working. The closing of the back hatch left them both stranded in a little island of flickering overhead light, while the sounds of the storm faded to a muffled hiss. Damas lowered himself to one of the benches anchored against the wall and stretched his legs out, using the net of medical supplies hanging from the overhead rack as a kind of backrest. He seemed far more comfortable with the situation than Jak was. He watched Jak pace in front of the hatch, noting with some interest that Jak was far more on-edge than usual. He wasn't just frustrated, he was rattled.

"It's just a storm, kid."

Damas leaned back and closed his eyes.

"You've driven in them before."

"Yeah," Jak grunted, "with Daxter."

"Hm." The king raised his brows, but did not open his eyes. "You're not often apart, are you?"

"Not if I can help it," Jak answered shortly. "Not looking to repeat two years of involuntary separation."

The hiss of the sand against the hull rose for a moment in the quiet that followed Jak's words. Then, half to himself, Damas murmured, "Ah. The prison."

Jak's stomach turned a flip.

He still didn't know what had possessed him to confess to his erstwhile conservator why he could transform. What had been done to him in the pits of the Fortress. Damas had taken it well at the time -- no disgust, or condescension- or worse, pity. But the fear nagged at Jak regardless with each following day, whispering in the back of his mind that Damas was looking at him different now. That if Jak strayed too far out of line, his past might be held up in front of him in an attempt to make sense of his actions.

The second he told people something was wrong with him, it became their go-to explanation every time he did something they didn't like. Even Dax did it once in a while- though he at least made conscious efforts to be less careless with his words. Honestly, Jak was shocked Damas hadn't brought it up after his moment of defiance in the Arena.

Something smacked against the Crawler's armor -- likely a rock -- and Jak jumped and cursed. It was too quiet in the shelter. He didn't like the quiet, or the lack of windows showing him what was going on outside. It was like being in a storage crate, or a garage.

Or a cell.

Feeling an electric twinge of weirdwrongbad crawling along the nerves surrounding his scar tissue, Jak began to pace quicker. He focused on breathing as much as he could, and let his gaze sweep across the hold. Any detail that could set this place apart from the cells was noted and clung to.

"Settle, boy."

Damas still hadn't opened his eyes. He folded his arms across his chest and shifted his weight slightly.

"We'll need our strength once the storm has passed. Don't waste your energy on restless nerves."

"Easy for you to say!" Jak retorted.

Watch it, Jak. Eco's boiling up. Get it under control before you really start mouthing off.*

"We've both seen what a storm like this can do to a person. To a broken down vehicle. How are you so calm right now?!"

The older warrior's lips quirked up with a soft chuckle.

"I've been around, kid," he answered wryly, "I've waited out my share of storms in the Crawler. This is no larger or smaller than any other sandstorm I've faced before."

[juuheizou]

yo we know that juuzou doesn't really talk about his feelings but do you think w a significant other like mutsuki he would perhaps be more open?🤔 do you imagine they having late night deep conversations and moments of emotional vulnerability? if so, how does that go? like with all development he's got, how does juuzou talk about his feelings/vent and is open to emotional comfort? how do these moments happen?tysmm in advanceee💘

I don't think it will ever be his first instinct-- he just reads to me as someone who tends to try and pick apart his problems and figure out what to do about them on his own, on the occasion that he realizes he has a problem, and more than being particularly reserved, he just doesn't think to share and involve other people unless there is something practical he knows he needs from them. But I can see that being a skill he gets better at, specifically with Mutsuki as his partner in practicing it more.

Mutsuki, as we know with other characters, can not just read people who do everything in their power not to be read, but has the kindness and the empathy-used-for-good to engage with them in a way that can literally calm the savage beast. Suzuya might be another hard read, though in a different way than Urie, but especially once they grow close, Mutsuki can tell when he's upset behind the nonchalant smile and when a simple 'do you want to talk about it?' can dramatically alter the course of how Suzuya was going to handle whatever is bothering him. And it's not like he actively avoids sharing with people he trusts, so a lot of the time all Suzuya needs to open up in that way is for someone to put the thought in his head.

When Suzuya does talk about his feelings, he is a fun mixture of open and direct while also experiencing legit alexithymia and just not having the same emotional reaction to some things that his peers do. He might struggle to label his feelings as happy, sad, angry, and sometimes all he knows is what he wants to do about them. So I can see Mutsuki gently insinuating the idea into his head that maybe they should talk about something, then Suzuya just drops a bomb like 'this other senior investigator I'm stuck sharing this case with has been barring all my ideas. Sometimes things were easier when other people were just something to stab hundred times and watch them die,” or “I put down this cat I had for three years, and Shinohara probably isn't gonna make it just like my cat, so maybe I would like curling up and dying too,” as casual as someone says they've been feeling a little down lately.

Mutsuki is just as kind and (even if he doesn't really understand, he will fake it until he does) understanding as ever and will follow whatever lead Suzuya gives him deeper and deeper. Sometimes Suzuya's way of articulating his feelings can be hard to hear, but he still musters up a calm 'that must be so sad to go through all at the same time. For what it's worth, I would really miss you if you curled up and died.' And they just keep going back and forth talking until Suzuya feels better or gets worked up enough to beat up one of his pillows or throw a stuffed animal or something cathartic he needed to do to start feeling better. His arms are open when Suzuya gets all his thoughts out and needs a hug.

Suzuya is a smart cookie in his own way and can usually figure out solutions to things he can in fact solve (and work himself up into meltdown-level frustration trying to solve things he can't) on his own or with just an opportunity to talk himself through his thoughts with someone who will listen, but if he is really stuck enough to seek out an answer, which is REALLY stuck because underneath his outer appearance of indifference he is REALLY stubborn about things that actually matter to him, sometimes what he needs is a more Mutsuki-like idea for what to do. He always has a solution, sometimes unsolicited and unwanted, when Mutsuki has something to cry on his shoulder about, and in turn Mutsukki does his best to offer suggestions.

The first time he comes to Mutsuki on his own just to talk, Mutsuki definitely noticed it more than Suzuya did and really took it to heart that talking to him is on Suzuya's list of ways he can fix his problems. And, at that point in their relationship, that he actually has things of value to help Suzuya with, rather than Suzuya always coming to his rescue for nothing in return. I can see them occasionally having deep talks late at night or at the dinner table. Not super often, but I can see it happening when a situation at work or in life demands it.

[chitaqua-toast]

Oh my god.

The levels of FRUSTRATION I am FEELING right now.

I started wearing glasses as a kid bc I was offered “can’t see the board clearly” as a *possible* reason why my grades weren’t great. (Reality: I was bored. All. The. Time.) So they sat me right up at the board — literally. My desk butted against one corner of the board.

Did I think I needed glasses? No.

Did it sound like an EXCELLENT “reason” that didn’t put me at fault? Yes.

So, I said yeah I can’t really see the board from our standard student layout and they moved my desk till I could get an appointment for a vision check.

…turns out I needed glasses.

BUT!!

The side effect of putting me up to the board was my visual field lacking anything distracting. I was actually learning. So when they went to move me back, I asked if I could sit in the front row. They didn’t question it & I didn’t know WHY it was easier, I just knew I could actually think when assigned to the front of the room instead of one row from the back.

And it’s only today I’m leaning that the vision test wanted me to TELL THEM THINGS WERE BLURRY?!

Y’all. The guy who did my vision test & prescription actually told my guardian “we put these drops in so they can’t fake having bad sight”. Like. Apparently there was some bug plot to make glasses COOL I had never heard of?! My guy. I got teased SO HARD for wearing them that I took them off between classes. I squinted for EVERY LETTER because all of them were blurry. That was just my normal. You want a list of the letters? Okay boss, I’ll list every one I can strain to make out.

And. AND. Then they do the damn “is this slide clearer or this one?” thing and I get to the point my eyes are hurting and they’re still doing “this one, or this one” when we’ve reached a point where THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE and I finally (still. STILL. AS A 50 YEAR OLD) give in and tell them I see no difference and get told “blink a couple times and pick one”. There’s literally no difference. “Okay guess one.”

what. WHAT. AAAAH.

And this shit goes on with SO MANY THINGS.

What’s my pain level? Out of ten? Ummmm… well it’s like maybe a nine on what I’ve experienced *personally* but I can always imagine it getting worse, so no it’s not *really* a nine, because I imagine getting shot would feel a lot worse than my intractable migraine… so I say “…a seven? I guess? Maybe a six?”

Know what the answer is they want? HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO DIE RIGHT NOW. Not in comparison to PRIOR pains (even though they use the words “ten being the worst/your worst” and will always — always — give you a look of utter disregard if you say ten), but at THIS MOMENT in time “how badly are you being tortured by your own brain, so we can come in later and ask again and know if your pain is dropping down a few decibels so we can move on *or* switch to a different treatment since your pain hasn’t changed”.

JFC WHY NOT JUST SAY THAT.

And they call US hard to understand & say WE suck at communicating.

When I was younger and researching the autism diagnosis criteria and symptoms, I thought “oh I couldn’t POSSIBLY be autistic.” Because when I read “takes everything literally” I thought it literally meant EVERYTHING and I was like “I don’t take EVERYTHING literally, just most things!” And I just realized the other day that it didn’t actually mean EVERYTHING and that was an overstatement.

[jcmarchi]

WarioWare: Move It! Review - Back To Form - Game Informer

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/warioware-move-it-review-back-to-form-game-informer/

WarioWare: Move It! Review - Back To Form - Game Informer

Ever since its first title 20 years ago, the WarioWare franchise has shapeshifted to take advantage of the capabilities and gimmicks of whatever the current Nintendo platform was. But the first entry on Switch, Get It Together, bucked that trend, putting you in control of the actual cast of characters in platforming-style microgames instead of taking advantage of the Switch’s unique traits. WarioWare: Move It aligns more with the traditional WarioWare experience, resulting in a better overall collection.

Move It takes the core tenants of the WarioWare franchise and cranks them up to 11. Players must learn various forms using two individual Joy-Con controllers, then complete rapid-fire microgames – three-to-five-second minigames that rely on your on-the-fly reactions to complete. As you progress through a session, the difficulty of each game and the speed at which they fly at you increases, creating an ever more frantic experience.

First Things First

WarioWare: Move It lets you play through various microgames using two Joy-Con controllers. If you’re like me, you haven’t used the Joy-Con wrist straps since you opened your Switch. That means the first thing you will need to do is find the wrist straps for your Joy-Cons, as several forms and microgames require them for specific actions.

I love the diversity of microgames on display. One second, I’m holding my arms out, clanking drinks with people at a party, then a moment later, I’m holding my Joy-Cons like an umbrella to protect a woman from getting soaked in a rainstorm before raising my arms to pick a giant nose. The irreverent humor fans have come to expect is in full effect with Move It, as is the creativity.

The forms allow you to properly position yourself for the upcoming minigame, but some are less developed than others. The “Hand Model” pose is confusing, as you must drop one Joy-Con, then move the other to the now-empty hand to pull off gestures with the other hand; even after completing the story mode, I still struggled to position myself correctly for this form in time thanks to the rapid-fire structure. It’s disappointing this form is so complicated to set up since several of my favorite microgames are a part of it. Another one, “Ba-KAW,” has you pose like a chicken and features the broadest mix of excellent and frustrating games. However, my least favorite activity is a long-form boss level that involves flipping steaks; I failed multiple times because it doesn’t consistently register unless you make overly exaggerated motions timed to when the meat is moving by you on a conveyor belt.

Thankfully, Move It’s library is full of oddball games I consistently looked forward to. On multiple occasions, I smirked or outright said, “That was so cool,” after experiencing a novel microgame for the first time. However, a few of them don’t quite land, as imprecise motion controls lead to frustrating failures, while others aren’t descriptive enough for you to reasonably understand what you need to do in the short window you have to do it. Thankfully, if you run out of hearts, you can continue by performing a “Sacred Pose,” which is essentially a goofy version of a yoga stance, to earn a continue.

Working through the hundreds of microgames is fun, but as always, it’s better with friends. WarioWare: Move It harkens back to one of the better entries in the series, the motion-controlled WarioWare: Smooth Moves for Wii. That entry was one of my go-to party games, and I had similar hopes for Move It.

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However, due to a couple of complicated forms and accuracy issues with some of the microgames, the core mode of Move It is a harder sell than its Wii predecessor, particularly for casual players. Thankfully, the multiplayer-focused Party Mode lets you perform simpler poses involving one Joy-Con at a slower pace in fun competitions. It’s silly and operates on the honor system, but my favorite involves completing microgames with added challenges like sitting on the floor or puffing out your cheeks while you play. Another puts you in the context of a board game, where winning microgames earns you dice rolls. These side modes are great for laughs and are the go-to way to play Move It in a group setting.

Following Get It Together and Game & Wario, Move It is the WarioWare game I’ve been waiting for over the last 15 years, and it mostly delivers. The motion-controlled madness gives you plenty of fun and novel experiences, even if a few stinkers are in the mix. Regardless of those, WarioWare: Move It’s catalog is full of microgames I look forward to revisiting for months to come.

[fairestwriting]

Hey lis, hope you're doing okay!

I hope this isn't too vague but i would like to request for a s/o with the dorm leaders playing a rhythm game, who would get pissed, who wouldn't? Maybe some cute cute snuggly parts too if you don't mind 😭 Have a lovely day~

hihi! im doing just fine, thank you for the sweet words uvu <3 hope you enjoy your food anon!

Riddle Rosehearts

Yeah, Riddle sucks. He knows he does, and he’s endlessly embarrassed by it, and by how quickly he gets heated about missing the notes.

He reckons it’s inelegant to be losing his cool over something that’s meant to be just for fun, but look at that damn note, he totally tapped it, why is it saying he missed here? This is so unfair.

Gets tired of the game after a while of playing with you, puts his phone down and huffs, cheeks flushed. He’s sulking there. He does enjoy watching you play, though , especially if you’re good.

Leona Kingscholar

Doesn’t really play games in general, doesn’t have the patience for them. Leona’s not bad, but he’s so easily irritated with the game, it’s actually funny.

Leona plays half-heartedly until he’s not doing that well, then he starts getting competitive with himself, maybe with you too if you start taunting him. And he gets serious pretty fast.

When he’s tired of not doing perfectly at the game, he’ll say he’s tired in general, and resign himself to watching, much like Riddle. Continuously grumbles about how stupid the game is, but praises you in his own way if you’re good at it.

Azul Ashengrotto

Idia has shown him a couple of the rhythm games he likes during board game club meetings, so he’s not fully unfamiliar with them. He’s a pretty good player too, nothing on competitor level, but he can score decent combos.

You can have a genuine healthy competition with him over these. Azul doesn’t get that invested in games like these, especially if he’s playing with someone who’s close to him as you are, so you two are bound to have a pretty fun time.

He’s the one you can have a comfy sort of date surrounding that with, both of you snuggled up and playing together in silence, sans from the few swears muttered under your breath when you mess up your combos.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim has played a couple rhythm games before! He usually likes the sort that have you actually dancing, though.

But Kalim is generally a good person to play any sort of games with, even if you, or he, is bad at the game in question, his positive attitude is contagious, so you’ll definitely have fun.

Laughs off any missed combos, cheers for you (A little too enthusiastically, maybe) when you’re doing well. Just an all around good time, as all time with Kalim is.

Vil Schoenheit

He isn’t very experienced with those games, but he does just fine. He’s a graceful loser when he doesn’t, too... most of the time.

You’ll find Vil’s posture regarding the game quite elegant for a while, staring at the screen with those sharp, focused eyes. Then he misses his combo, and he huffs dramatically, dropping the phone on the table.

...he apologizes for losing his cool, of course, and builds himself back up easily, but then it gets hard to miss how his eyebrows furrow with each missed note. Truth is, he’s trying really hard not to get angry at the game, and he wants to play until he gets good at it, but it’s so frustrating.

Idia Shroud

You were waiting for this one — Yes, Idia is very good at them, and he gets very pissed in the few occasions he makes mistakes.

Idia is very passionate about his favorite rhythm games, of course. He probably even proposed a date based on them, picking the one he’s the best at to make sure he impresses you with his skills.

He’ll teach you the ins and outs of it pretty decently if he has to, but as soon as he gets into it, he’s burning far too bright to be a good teacher, swearing profusely upon each missed combo. He’s fun to compete with, though, and won’t be genuinely mad at you, it’s just force of habit.

Malleus Draconia

God help you... Malleus is awful with electronics, of course he’d end up being awful at rhythm games too. You were both expecting it, really.

He just can’t really... follow how the game works. His response time to tapping the notes is way off, the visuals behind what he has to press are distracting, he tries not to complain but he just has no idea what he is doing.

Malleus is another one who’s more of a watcher. If you want to show your skills off to him, he’ll be delighted to watch them! Just... he’s not gonna be a good player, don’t make him play the thing.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[five-rivers]

Solutions to Nonlinear Equations

For @currentlylurking for the Phic Phight.  :)

.

“Ancients, Vlad.  I’m not rejecting you because I’m a rebellious teenager and you’re an adult, I’m rejecting you because you’re incredibly creepy.”

Vlad sniffed in what he hoped was an aristocratic manner and raised an eyebrow, minutely adjusting his grip on Daniel to keep him pinned to the floor.  

“We’re human-ghost hybrids, Daniel.  I’d hoped that you’d have realized by now that we are meant to be ‘creepy.’”

Daniel squirmed and began to mutter into the carpet. “Clockwork never acts like this, I’m fine with him—”

Vlad pulled back as if burned.  He hadn’t heard that name in—in—

In a long time.  

Years.  

The thought was almost expelled from his head when Daniel managed to elbow him in the jaw hard enough to make him see stars. Before he knew it, Daniel had slipped from his grasp and zoomed away.  

Whatever aspersions Vlad cast on Daniel’s mastery of his ghostly abilities, the boy was fast.  When he put his mind to escaping instead of picking a fight, he managed it more often than not, to Vlad’s great frustration.  Hence Vlad’s usual strategy of needling the younger half-ghost until fighting was the only thing on Daniel’s mind.  

He set down on a nearby roof.  There went his plans for the day.  Which, admittedly, had consisted of distracting Daniel while his ghostly minions set up a nasty surprise for him at the school, hence making him fail his test, which would, in turn, convince Maddie and Jack to let Vlad set Daniel up with a tutor, something he had suggested to them earlier, and—

Well.  Daniel would find them, now, no doubt.  

Ah, well.  

He had more important things on his mind, now.  Such as, how in two worlds did Daniel know Clockwork?  Because Daniel never just said things like that.  He barely knew anything about ghost culture.  He wouldn’t know to bring up obscure, secretive, ghost historical figures.  He wouldn’t know what that particular name would mean to Vlad.  

Tongues of fire flared out of his fingers, bringing a measure of stability to the gyrations of his core and his emotions.  

Daniel knew Clockwork.  And, it seemed, met him with some regularity.  Enough for him to compare his actions to Vlad’s.  

Would that ghost never be satisfied with ruining Vlad’s life?  Was he not satisfied with—

He cut off the thought, shaking his head.  Never mind that.  

What Vlad needed to do was find Clockwork.  Which meant inducing Danny to go to him at a time when Vlad when Vlad could follow.  Which meant determining when he had visited Clockwork in the past.  An undertaking to be sure.  

He closed his eyes and teleported to his lab beneath his mansion.  

“Maddie!” he called out, even before his body had fully reformed.  

The hologram flickered to life with a faint crackled from the projector.  “What is it, sugarpie?” it asked with a smile.

“Review the audio recordings from Fentonworks,” ordered Vlad.  “Search for the term ‘Clockwork.’  Report findings to me.”

“Sure thing, honey!”

Vlad had to review the cheerfulness settings on the Maddie program.  Maddie was upbeat, but not that upbeat.  This was almost sickly sweet.  

He threw himself into a nearby chair.  

Clockwork.  He thought he’d never hear that name again.  Not after he’d been literally and figuratively ghosted by him.  

He telekinetically pulled a book off his shelf. He ran his fingers over the leather tooling on the cover.  The book had been given to him by Clockwork, years ago, when he was still in that hospital.

Clockwork had been the one to first show him the Ghost Zone, and all the wonders in it.  Clockwork had been his friend, his only friend, through that long, agonizing hospital stay. He had been supportive, wonderful, kind. He visited often, though not on a regular schedule.  He’d helped Vlad ride out the waves of misery and anger that so often threatened to overwhelm him.  

Then, without warning, nothing.  

No goodbye.  The last time he left, he had even said something along the lines of ‘see you soon,’ although the memory was frayed from age and Vlad could no longer recall the exact words.  For a long time, Vlad had worried something disastrous had happened to Clockwork. But then he had finally managed to build his own portal, reach the Ghost Zone under his own power, and, according to every search he did, every line of inquiry that bore fruit, Clockwork was just fine.  

Vlad had been furious.  He had been betrayed.  He had spent the better half of a decade trying to plot revenge against Clockwork, before realizing that was akin to plotting revenge against a god and turning his sights to a more manageable target.  

Now…

Now, Vlad just wanted answers.  Both as to the reason behind his abandonment and as to why Clockwork was apparently repeating history with Daniel.  

“Sweetie pie,” said the hologram, with a chime, “audio processing complete.  There are over ninety-nine instances where the word ‘clockwork’ is mentioned.  Would you like to play the selected files?”

“Yes,” said Vlad.  “Include the video portions where available, and the thirty seconds immediately prior to and following the mention.”

He turned his attention to the nearest screen.  He had a lot of videos to watch.  

There was an envelope pinned to it.  It was sealed with wax, impressed with the image of a pocket watch and the initials CW.  Vlad attempted, and failed, to suppress the growl that grew in the back of his throat. Was this a joke to Clockwork?

He tore the envelope from the screen, ripped it open with equal viciousness, and began to read.

.

Three cups sat on the tea service tray next to the teapot.

“Are you expecting someone else,” asked Danny, “or am I going to break one of these?”

Clockwork chuckled as he began to pour the tea.  “The former,” he said.  “Although you may always surprise me with the latter.”

He handed Danny his cup.  Danny inhaled deeply.  It smelled sweet.  “What is it?” he asked.  

“A chamomile blend,” said Clockwork.  “For calm.”

“I think Sam drinks chamomile before she goes to bed,” observed Danny, offhandedly.  “Who’s coming?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Danny made a face.  “Do you have to be mysterious all—”

The front door of Clockwork’s lair slammed open, and Danny jolted forward in alarm – the only people who regularly did that were the Observants, who didn’t much care for Danny – but Clockwork put a steadying hand on his shoulder and rewound his tea into his cup.

“Clockwork!” came the expected yell.  The yeller, however…

“Is that Vlad?” asked Danny, not quite scandalized, but more than a little surprised.  

“Why, yes,” said Clockwork.  

“Did you – Clockwork, did you invite him here?”

“Other than the Observants,” said Clockwork, “no one can enter unless I will it.”  He took a sip of his tea.  

“But,” started Danny.  

Clockwork raised a hand.  “Don’t worry, he’ll find us soon enough.”  He repurposed the hand to pat Danny’s knee.  “And even should he prove to be in a combative mood, I will not allow you to come to harm.  You are safe here, Daniel.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Danny, looking away, towards the door in the sitting room through which Vlad would presumably enter.  

Sure enough, a few seconds later Vlad half-flew half-skidded into Clockwork’s sitting room.  He leveled an accusatory finger at Clockwork.  “You!” he proclaimed, with a great deal of venom.  

“Hello, Vladimir, I’ve poured you some tea.  Why don’t you sit down?  I understand it has been some time.”

“You under-?  No!  I will not sit down!  I will not drink your tea.  Not after you abandoned me for over a decade, just like that bumbling oaf—”

“Hey!” interjected Danny, not only because Vlad had once again insulted his father, but because he could tell that Clockwork, regardless of his stoic façade, was actually quite upset.  

“Don’t interrupt me, Daniel,” snapped Vlad.  “You don’t know what this, this ghost is. What he does.  You don’t know that he gets close to you, makes you think you’re friends, and then drops you without a moment’s notice.  Did you think it was funny to string along a man in dire straits? Did you?”

“I did not abandon you, Vladimir, I—”

Vlad scoffed and went on a tirade that Danny honestly found hard to parse.  But it sounded like Vlad and Clockwork had known each other in the past and then fallen out of contact in a way that aggravated Vlad’s abandonment issues.  Which didn’t seem like Clockwork at all, but Vlad sounded extremely certain and insistent, and Clockwork’s upset was actually finding its way into his voice, now.  Danny didn’t—

With all the force and abruptness of epiphany, Danny realized what was going on here.  

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Danny, putting down his cup. “Vlad, breathe or whatever.  Clockwork, you did tell Vlad that you experience time nonlinearly, right?”

“Of course,” said Clockwork, clearly offended.

“But Vlad, ah, had you gone through natural portals often when you met Clockwork?  Or, like, did you ever see him without him initiating contact?”

“I didn’t have my portal built yet, Daniel, so, no.”

Danny turned to Clockwork.  “Why did you-?  No that doesn’t matter.  Haaauuuhh, Clockwork, do you have-?”

Clockwork waved a hand and a whiteboard appeared.  

“Thanks,” said Danny, picking a marker up from the little shelf on the bottom.  He uncapped it, then recapped it.  “Actually, before that.  Vlad—” he pointed at Vlad, who looked about one second from exploding “—you have some idea of how old Clockwork is, right?  Or at least how old ghosts can get?”

“Yes, Daniel,” said Vlad, managing to overlay his supercilious ‘I know better than you’ attitude over his still obvious anger.

“Okay, great.  So, just to establish, Clockwork has been around at least since, uh, beginning of time?”

“Give or take,” agreed Clockwork.  “Although I have not experienced it all directly.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “Just, already, his perception of time is different from our because of age differences.”

Vlad looked slightly less angry, and slightly closer to curious.  

“But, then, there’s the larger issue,” continued Danny.  This time his uncapping of the marker was decisive.  He drew a flat, straight, horizontal line across the whiteboard.  “This is our timeline.  We deal with time linearly.  We’ve also got, I don’t know, parallel timelines, like this.”  He drew several more lines.  “You following so far?”

“Yes, Daniel, I’ve read my share of science fiction.”

He was probably rolling his eyes.  Curse his solid-colored red eyes.  It made interpreting his looks and figuring out where he was looking during a fight much more difficult.  

“Anyway, Clockwork isn’t on any of these lines. Because he experiences time nonlinearly.”  He drew a squiggly up and down line on the board that resembled the world’s saddest sine wave.  Or cosine wave.  There wasn’t a y-axis on the not-quite-graph, so it wasn’t like anyone could tell the difference.  They were effectively the same.  

And Vlad still made fun of him for failing math. Danny knew plenty about math.  He just didn’t have time to do the work.  Mostly because of Vlad.  

“Now, that, that is Clockwork’s timeline.  It isn’t always in contact with ours.  It’s, like, solutions to a system of equations. Nonlinear equations,” he specified, in case it had been too long since Vlad had encountered basic high-school-level algebra.

“It is somewhat more complicated than that, Daniel,” said Clockwork, exasperated.  “It’s more of—"  

“Yeah, but this gets the idea across more than the whole parade metaphor, doesn’t it?”

“I would say not.  This doesn’t even begin to touch on my abilities.”

“That’s because we’re just talking about your perception of time,” said Danny.  He considered for a moment.  “And also your ability to interact with our timeline.”

“Which includes my ability to perceive multiple timelines.”

“But that’s complicated, and I still don’t get it,” complained Danny.  

“It is less complicated than what you are currently trying to explain.”

“To you maybe, but the whole point of this is that you aren’t seeing things the same way we are.  You disappeared on Vlad, what, a decade ago?”  He looked to Vlad for confirmation.  

“A decade is hardly any time at all,” said Clockwork with exasperation.  He sipped at his tea.  

“It was fifteen years.”

Clockwork made a somewhat dismissive motion with a gloved hand.  “It’s a tiny fraction of your life as a whole.”

“It’s… closer to a third of his current lifetime,” said Danny with a wince.  “Or a fourth?  I don’t know how old you are, dude.”

“I went to college with your parents.”

“I know, and you were already graying then. Your age is weirdly hard to place.”

Vlad gave Danny a look, but his body language was no longer screaming ‘I’m going to beat the snot after you.’  Danny counted that as a win under the current circumstances.  He disliked Vlad, but in a fight with Clockwork… Well, Clockwork could demolish just about anyone.  

Not that Clockwork would.  Just that he could.  

“Daniel—”

“Please, Vladimir.  Just sit down.  Try the tea. I made it for you.  I knew you would be upset, although I could not see exactly why.”  Clockwork was almost pouting, now.  “Fifteen years is such a short time.”

“Clockwork, I’m fifteen.”

“I know,” said Clockwork, patting Danny on the knee. “Your timeline is so small.  And cute.”

Vlad was now distinctly on his back foot, offput and disarmed.  “His timeline is cute?”

“It is.  Don’t worry, yours is almost as cute.”

Vlad opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish. Danny pushed the whiteboard away.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he said.  “Like I said, different perception of time.”

“I really didn’t mean to make you feel abandoned, Vladimir.  I simply wanted to give you some time to, ah, how should I put this?  Have space?  Find yourself?”

Vlad sat heavily on the couch.  

“You get used to it,” said Danny.  “But, Clockwork, do you think you can talk him into having fewer evil plans?  Because, really.  There are way too many.  Like, one a week.  They’re destroying my grades.  Have you ever seen anyone else who had weekly evil plans?”

“Evil plans, Vladimir?  Really?”

[asset35-maya]

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

//

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

//

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

//

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

//

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

//

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

//

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

//

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

//

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

//

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

//

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

//

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

//

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

[solarmorrigan]

A little scribble of something I wrote a while ago on the theme of Newt experiencing long-term side effects from his solo drift. Mostly just some newmann hurt/comfort, to be honest. Probably don’t read this if you have actual medical knowledge or it might give you a migraine, because I just made shit up wholesale

-

The headache starts behind his left eye.

They don’t always. Sometimes they start in his temples, or in the base of his skull.

This one does, though – starts as a sharp starburst of pain just behind his left eye, that is.

Newt is supposed to pay attention to those headaches in particular, but he’s busy right now, and doesn’t want to yield to the pain. Does every headache have to be a warning sign? Maybe this one is just a regular headache, after all. Could be stress, or tension, or his sinuses.

Could be anything.

Anyway, Newt is enjoying his afternoon off, so aside from the initial flinch at the onset, he keeps right on doing what he’s doing – songs don’t write themselves, after all.

(His dreams of starting another band after the war kind of didn’t go anywhere, since he didn’t really know many people who both could play an instrument and wanted to join a band just then, and finding some randos to do it with like he had in college is harder when you’re kind of like a minor celebrity. There is, however, a great niche on the internet for people with vast knowledge on obscure topics and a weird sense of humor who want to sing songs, and Newt is greatly enjoying filling that niche.)

Sure, the headache is a distraction, but Newt has worked through worse. He’d gone back to work once almost immediately after dropping something incredibly heavy on his foot, and then, in spite of the fact it had apparently been broken, he’d continued to show up to work and stand on said foot for about two days after that (until Hermann had caught sight of the bruises when Newt had pulled his boot off to check one afternoon, had called him a hazard to society, and sicced medical on him). He can work through a headache.

But the pain keeps building, until it’s less a distraction and more a hinderance, and by the time Newt realizes he probably should be paying attention, his nose has begun to run, the first drip sliding out so fast that he doesn’t have time to catch it.

It splashes red onto the middle C of his keyboard, and Newt swears.

He scrambles out of his chair and reaches for the nearest tissue box, grabbing a fistful and trying to press them to his nose before he ruins his shirt, or something equally tragic.

“Son of a bitch,” Newt hisses, catching himself on the edge of his desk as he stumbles.

Now that he’s standing, he feels unbalanced and weightless and hot, and he knows his next stop is going to be the medicine cabinet for the thermometer.

Newt shuffles his way down the hall to the bathroom, glances at his reflection (eyes look normal, at least), and then takes his temperature. It’s a little frustrating to manage while still trying to stem the sluggish drip of blood coming from one nostril, but he gets solid normal level reading, anyway. He isn’t surprised; fevers aren’t common, but they’re on the laundry list of symptoms he’s been told to look out for.

He pops some Tylenol and then checks his nose. Maybe if it stops before Hermann gets home–

Nope, never mind, there’s the front door.

Of course Hermann picks today to be on time, rather than being distracted by extra work.

Newt can hear Hermann put down his cane, hang up his jacket, then pick up his cane again (he always bumps the handle on the edge of the hall table), and then he’s coming down the hall. There’s no point in trying to hide; Newt’s left the door ajar and Hermann is going to walk right past.

“Newton?” Hermann peers cautiously around the doorjamb, then comes fully into the doorway.

“Heeey, welcome home,” Newt greets dryly, still a little nasally with the wad of tissues pressed to his nose.

Hermann’s mouth thins into an impressively displeased line. “This is the second time this month.”

Newt snorts reflexively, grimacing when this results in an extra gush of blood into the tissues. “Thanks, Hermann, I couldn’t possibly keep track without you.”

Hermann remains displeased. “Have you checked–”

“Yes, I checked my temperature, I took some stuff, and as soon as my brain stops leaking out my nose, I’ll go lay down, okay?” Newt huffs.

“Don’t joke, Newton,” Hermann snaps. “It is important to track your symptoms so we can report them to the neurologist. One more migraine this month and…”

“Yeah, yeah, win a free trip back to the doctor, I’m not that brain damaged,” Newt snaps right back. “I just don’t get why you can’t come in and ask ‘hey, honey, how was your day before your head threatened to explode?’. Is that so hard?”

Hermann draws himself up, as if he really needs to emphasize that he’s taller than Newt. “I refuse to apologize for being concerned about your health.”

“Well, I refuse to apologize for not wanting this to define my whole day.”

Usually, Newt would be yelling right now, but he’s lightheaded and tired and he doesn’t feel outraged enough to muster up the energy. Instead, he and Hermann just stare at each other until another spike of pain hits behind Newt’s eye and he winces into losing the contest.

Hermann’s face softens and his free hand twitches towards Newt. “Would you… like some ice, for your head?”

“Yeah,” Newt sighs, checking his nose again to see if the bleeding has finally stopped. “That’d be great.”

“I’ll get you some.” Hermann nods, as resolute as if Newt has sent him after the Holy Grail. It’s adorable; Newt can’t help but smile at him.

Somehow, shortly after that, they both end up in bed, the room dim and cool, with Newt draped across Hermann’s good side and a banket pulled up to their waists (Newt’s temperature may be normal, but he feels hot, and he figures he can just keep Hermann warm).

“They’ve never found anything,” Newt says quietly, his jaw working against Hermann’s chest. “And I don’t think they’re going to. These are just migraines, Hermann.”

“I try to tell myself that, but every time you get an attack…” Newt always has to stifle a reaction to calling his headaches that – nearly two years after closing the breach and he’s still getting his own personal kaiju attacks, “I can’t help but remember the reason for them. And I can’t help but worry.”

They’ve been down this road before; Newt won’t apologize for that first Drift – it had helped save the world (and the guilt he feels for the way Hermann had had to find him, seizing and insensible on the floor, makes him defensive, makes him say sharp things he doesn’t mean), so he moves on.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine. I’d be even more fine if I didn’t have to keep dragging ass all the way down to the neurologist every few months,” he tries to joke.

Hermann’s hand tightens over Newt’s where they’re resting joined on his belly. “I need physical proof that you’re alright, Newton,” he says, quiet and firm. “If anything were to happen to you, and if something could have been done…”

“Yeah,” Newt rasps, closing his eyes to the shade of the room, “I know.”

He knows how he would feel, if their roles were reversed. Hell, he would probably be pestering Hermann to let him run tests of his own, just for his peace of mind.

And when it comes down to it, Newt knows he’s going to sit his ass down for whatever scans or tests or samples are demanded of him. He’ll get the all-clear back from the doctor, and he’ll wave it at Hermann and say, “I told you so”, but he’ll do it all again next time, every time, if that’s what it takes.

If nothing else, he can give Hermann that.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]

Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

A/N:  This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer

Word Count: 6.5k

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.

"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."

"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.

"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused

"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

----

"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.

"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."

"See you are being defensive!" she snaps

"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.

"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke

"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

----

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.

"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.

"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.

"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.

——

Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"

I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

"It's drama" I repeat,

"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.

"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"

"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.

"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.

----

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.

"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,

"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.

"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.

"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.

"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

"No, it's not even late!"

"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .

"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"

"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.

----

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.

"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.

"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief

"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.

"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.

"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.

"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"

"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.

"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"

— —

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

[purpleyellow]

It’s not enough

NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“The remarkable world of Mark Lee’s mind” or, Mark rethinkgs his entire history with Bee.

a/n: I finished it!! Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛 this gif is peak devastation 

All Mark could think when Bee first joined the group was “Thank God for Lee Jeno”.

Noticing that while she didn’t know how to express herself in front of them, Jeno was the first to give her a sense of comfort. Mark, after getting nervous for not knowing how to be helpful, told himself that eventually, Bee would get close to him too. He had a year, after all, to become friends and grow a bond with her.

Except that a year doesn’t last that long and little girls don’t come with instructions.

He knows she cried on his last showcase with Dream. But Mark has a feeling she only did so because of the occasion. She was seeing the seven best friends she witnessed together being separated, and that’s a heartbreaking sight when you know how close they are together.

Two years later, Mark realizes that was his big mistake. It wasn’t on purpose but along the way, he isolated the girl from their original friend group, and maybe it’s what caused some sort of distance in between them.

The year following his departure was an eventful one, and the boy grew a lot, experienced a lot, and learned a lot. The best part of everything being that whenever he met with their little friend group, his spot was intact and everything was the same. Except for Bee. Mark would see how she had inevitably built her own place within the dreamies, and it had him feeling weirdly left out even though they were perfectly coexisting.

They went on being coworkers and labeling each other as friends despite the weird lack of bond, until, of course, the whole “crush” fiasco went down. Mark saw himself and the girl going from, no correlation besides being in the same friend group, to suddenly facing a crisis that revolved around her feelings and his lack of knowledge about how she works.

The image he had of her, was built on a shallow level based on how others perceived her. That’s his second mistake. Jeno, and some of his Hyungs, were almost protective over Bee. Renjun and Jaemin treated her like their personal teddy bear. Haechan, Chenle, and to some extent Jisung were not worth going over in his head, because he thought that if he joked around as they did, she would probably get offended.

So there Mark was, trying to work around, this seemingly fragile character, while finding out that she saw him as a friend more than he did to her. And that maybe all the stress he had gone through to make sure she was being “protected” was worthless and seemingly ignored. He was a bit selfish for wanting to do the right thing simply for others to notice him, but that’s how he knew things. That's how he had to build a career for himself, he needed to get recognition from others to do the things he had done. And maybe connecting everything to work was another mistake.

“What’cha thinking about?” Chenle throws his coat on top of Mark’s head after realizing the practice room wasn’t empty. Though the boy was so deep in thought he didn’t realize the idol had arrived until he announced himself.

“Just life” Mark groans while laying back on the ground, his phone left on the floor next to him. The younger boy walked to the side, taking a glance at the screen before smirking.

“And by life, do you mean someone special?” He teases and Mark's hands fly to the device, the notes app open on the words he had mindlessly typed. He knew Chenle didn’t have time to actually read everything, but the title gave away enough. “The little ballerina”

“I’m trying to see things through a different lens” The Canadian spoke looking sideways at him. Gesturing he continued “Yesterday, I tried talking to her back at the van, but to be honest I had no idea what to say. Apparently, there's no good way to approach it, but I kind of feel like there might be”

“Markie, Markie. Don’t overthink anything. What do we do when we have a schedule that we’re not particularly good at?” Chenle placed a hand behind his ear and waited for the boy to say.

“We go ahead and just do it”

“So do just that” The boy snapped, “Between you and me, Yun-hee doesn't know what she wants. At one point she's all certain about 'moving on' or whatever, yet then when you ask her for any details of what she's feeling, she completely ignores you”.

“You asked her about it?” Mark's head snaps up frowning and the boy nods. “What did she say? Does-”

“Did you not listen to what I just say? She brushed me off” Chenle rolls his eyes “But I think she still likes you if that's worth something. Maybe not the way she did back when Haechan dropped the bomb”.

“What do you mean? Like a friend?” He questions confused, decreasing the younger's patience.

“No, Mark. The same way you like her now”.

“Chenle, I already told her, and all of you, that I don't feel like that towards Bee” Mark’s tone gets more serious and the younger groans annoyed.

“You two are so slow, we literally have to put words in your mouth to get things going” Chenle speaks quicker trying to get his point across. “It's really obvious you care about Bee more than you did at the beginning of last year. And okay, let's say you don't have a little thing for her or whatever, but you do want to have some sort of relationship with her, don't you?”

“Yeah, being friends for once would be nice” Mark nods, sarcastically, and gets up from the floor. “I really just want this all to end”

Mark left the room shortly after and being honest with himself, he felt a little light-headed with everything Chenle just told him. Putting most things aside to revisit once he had a clearer mind, the boy decided to put into use the one good advice he could find in the middle of everything. When you have a particularly hard task, you just have to go ahead and do it.

So with that, his plan was built. And by plan, he means to have no prepared speech, and no questions to ask, instead figure out everything after he finally finds a way of talking to her, which has been harder than anticipated.

A couple of days later, while he went down to the sm cafe before it was time to be at the studio, Mark quite literally froze in place at the sight of a certain Stray Kids member standing near a wall.

Waving shyly at him and Renjun, Seungmin waited awkwardly to see if they would come near him.

"Bee shouldn't take much longer" Renjun caught Mark by surprise, as he approached the boy calmly "Her recording session is almost done, but we can show you the studio if you want to wait for her there"

"No, it's fine" Seungmin smiled, though a little intimidated by Mark's frown. "I'll just sit wherever if it takes too long"

"I'm sorry, you two are going out?" The laugh followed by Mark's question was a little nervous, considering he had only seen the boy a few times yet here he was waiting for Bee to be done so they could do... something?

"No, no. Bee's going to meet Moon, I'm just the intermediate" Seungmin tries to joke but Renjun is the only one laughing. Clearing his throat, he explains further "My group was nearby and we're meeting Ateez for dinner so Moon asked if I could come to pick her up"

"Yun-hee is staying over at her dorm" Renjun adds, glaring sideways at the Canadian. "A sleepover or whatever you want to call it" The three fall silent after he's done talking and Mark runs over an explanation as to why he's feeling so frustrated over this conversation.

He and Bee hadn’t properly spoken since the award show shooting. And while forced interactions were the bare minimum, the boy felt as if the distance they kept had triplicated its length. It made him feel odd to see her act normally with everyone, including a boy she hadn’t spoken to for a year. So why couldn’t they be normal as well?

"Well, I'm going ahead and get a coffee. She should be coming anytime, though being late is kind of expected at this point" The comment from Renjun makes Seungmin chuckle and both boys nod to each other. Turning to Mark, he frowns at his wondering expression "You coming?"

"I'm heading up actually, it's my turn on studio 3" He shakes his head and waves at them. The elevator doesn't seem to take much longer to arrive, which Mark thinks might be some weird doing of fate, considering as soon as he makes it to his floor, Bee is walking along the hallway. Or was, because she changes her path the moment she spots him

Acting purely on instinct might not be the smartest thing to do, the boy thinks to himself while chasing her through the building without any idea of what he wants to say once "catching" her. Maybe Kun hiding Bee in his studio and obviously lying to him was a good thing, or at least it gave him another day to think about where he wants to stand with her.

Ironically, a couple of days after, he's in fact standing in front of a door while thinking if he should or not enter and hopefully settle everything. Mark opens the door slowly, analyzing the small room with two chairs in which she's sitting on one.

“Can we talk now?” He waits for her positive to walk inside and Bee does so by simply nodding. Her eyes looked a little tired and uninterested, but the small tremor on her hands told him how present she really was. And just like the first time they met, her nervousness contaminated him, and they just sat inside the small room without looking at each other in silence.

"I, um, have been thinking about everything since that game night" Mark clears his throat and starts speaking towards the floor "And, not that you owe me anything, but I'd just like to know what happened"

Frowning, Bee quickly glances at him "What do you mean, what happened?"

"When did you start, kind of seeing me in that way. And how did it stop, I guess. It just feels like a lot happened that I'm not aware of, and it's making me look back and reconsider some stuff, I'll explain that later, just let me know what I missed"

Bee thought of how she would put things into words and twirled the ring on her finger, taking a deep breath she tried to make herself comfortable on the chair

"It started around when you came back from the SuperM tour. Or maybe before that, I'm not sure” She sighs and picks at her nails “It seemed like that boy I met was gone after you graduated, and you became this even cooler rapper, you became more confident in yourself, literally embodied SM's favorite child. I sort of became stunned, this feels really weird to say, but I couldn't really recognize you"

Mark slowly looks at Bee while she's talking and carefully listens, he feels a little more comfortable not to look away once she raises her head again. Once she stops, he nods turning his chair a little so they're more face to face.

"You feel out of it after you find out I'm still the awkward boy from before" His jokes make her shrug as opposed to the giggle he expected to hear.

"That happened, but also, you did turn me down" Bee bites her lip regretting the word choice "Not that I'm mad, or really hoped for anything, I simply didn't want to push anything or make things too weird. That's why going back to normal was such a huge thing, but it's been a really long time since then and we still don't know how to do that, I guess"

"Maybe it's because we didn't exactly have a normal, at least not the one we're trying to do right now" Mark catches her attention and she gestures for him to keep going "Thinking back to when we first met, we never got close just the two of us. The others were always around, and even then, I can't recall us sticking together or anything. That might be why you thought I was different"

"It makes sense" The girl mumbles tilting her head and frowning. If he was true, that would mean her crush had been based on this picture of him she drew on her head. And while part of it certainly was, Bee also knows that a little percentage came from his actual responsible yet boyish and kind personality she still appreciates to this day.

"I guess it does" Mark nods reading her face "We should probably find a way to work around that. Just get closer in general, I guess. Find out what our dynamic is like without blending in with the rest of the boys and ignoring each other" He speaks hopefully, but Bee fears it might not work again.

"But, what if this is it for us. We didn't naturally become friends, so maybe accountancies it's what we should stick with" She doesn't know if she meant it, or was scared of this whole 'finding out' deal and its consequences. From what she knew, Bee could easily slip back into her feelings for him and end up breaking her face again.

Yet Mark wasn't having it. He'd spent way too much time, especially lately, noticing how she was comfortable with the others, and the nice chemistry they had. He felt left out, not as in ignored, but Bee was sweet, and a little quirky which also made her funny, but still very caring, and he never denied she was pretty. He wanted to know what it’s like to be her friend like the others are. Though this moment might be the first time he questions if a friendship will be enough for him.

"Let's put an effort this time" He shakes his head dismissing her comment "We can stick around in the practice room a little longer now that our schedules mostly match. And you know, hang out together more, no running away or ignoring each other"

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Bee bounces up her leg and thinks a little bit.

"For what it's worth, we can try. We spent a good time in here and it didn't get awkward, so there’s hope" Mark giggles and she follows him "It'll make the teamwork better if you need a greater good to support your decisions"

"Okay" Bee nods making him shyly hold out a fistbump to her. Making up a quick and weird handshake, they laugh together lighting up the mood a little.

"Just a little request" The girl stops Mark as he's getting up "Let's not rush things, you know. Make it more natural than acting like we're forcefully acting as friends"

"Yeah, sure" Mark pats her head opening the door. And to everyone, especially the dreamies’, happiness, they're a little less awkward around each other.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  7.3

"You shall serve under Childe," the Tsaritsa gestured for you to rise to your feet.  "Mezzetin."

"Uh...bless you?"

"Thus is your new name:  Mezzetin," the archon repeated, raising a brow at your attitude.

"That's not my name."

"Am I hearing you break the contract you proposed to me only a few minutes ago?"  You bit your tongue to refrain from ripping her a new one.  "Childe, why don't you show her to her new room?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Childe led you down an especially long corridor that brought you to what looked like a type of barracks situation.  He opened a door that stood on the left side of the hall and showed you around.  It wasn't that bad of a room; it held a balcony that looked over the snowy landscape outside.  The walls were a deep burgundy color with dim lighting, which only seemed to further mock your dark circumstances .

"How do you like your room, Mezzetin?"

"If I hear that god-awful name again, I--"  That's odd.  Why is there a mask on my bed?  You picked it up and noted it was the same color as the walls.  It might have been slightly similar to Xiao's mask, in that it looked relatively animal-like.  It was harbinger-status, being that it held no similarities with that of the Fatui agent or skirmisher masks and was completely unique.

"Ah, that caught your attention?  It's yours."

Why was there already a spare mask? I barely made the decision to join them not even ten minutes ago.  Do they have a surplus of masks here?  Your gaze rose to Childe's in a questionable manner.  

"What?"  Childe let out an awkward laugh.

"Nothing."

"Well, I should get back to the throne room and let you adjust here for a bit, no?  I'll return soon."  His suspicious hurry to leave made you roll your eyes, but your attention just returned to the mask in your hands.  

Why did they already have a mask for me?

...............................

"Well done, Childe."  The Tsaritsa praised her devoted weapon of war as he knelt before her.  "When you proposed your idea to me I wasn't sure you'd be up for such a task, especially since you hate deception.  Everything played out exactly as you expected.  You have earned my praise."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."  Childe rose to his feet and revealed a dark grin.

Signora slowly clapped her hands as she approached the teen.  "To think that our youngest and most inexperienced would come up with a plan to manipulate the girl into joining us by manipulating Morax into waging war--you have matured greatly, Childe."

"Your praise is appreciated, Fair Lady."

"Just do your job correctly and make sure she doesn't get any bright ideas to turn on us," Scaramouche walked out of the throne room.

"Not one to praise another, as expected," Childe sneered.

"The sixth harbinger is correct, Childe.  While your plan has succeeded, your duty does not end here.  Such is why the girl will be in your hands; do not fail me."

................................

"...What do we do now?" Aether's voice pierced the snow that fell upon the trio as they headed for the Snezhnayan border.  The walk had been excruciatingly long and quiet, the atmosphere holding a somber note and sour aftertaste in everyone's mouths.

"...I suppose we continue to look for you sister," Zhongli suggested.  "That is what you originally gathered us for, is it not?"  The archon kept his gaze on the snowy ground.

"It is..." Aether's gaze shifted to Xiao, who was quieter than he usually was.  "What do you think, Xiao?"

"I'm returning to Liyue and continuing my duty."

"So that's it?"  The boy stopped in his tracks.  "We're just going to give up on her? Is that it?  I'm not going to just sit around while she's still stuck in that dreadful place.  Don't you two cherish her like I do?  Don't you, Xiao?"  His hands curled into tight fists as he thought about Lumine.  He couldn't comprehend the idea of giving up either of you.

The two adepti halted, and the yaksha met Aether's eyes.

"Don't think we haven't noticed how the two of you look at each other," Paimon popped up and put her hands on her hips.  "You two like each other more than teammates!  We're not stupid! So why are you just walking away?"

"She chose her path," Xiao stated.  "It's not like I can dissuade her from her decision; she clearly felt strongly about it."

"If she does not wish to be saved, there is nothing we can do," added Zhongli.  

"Well she clearly thought you guys were going to get a bunch of innocent people killed over her!"  Paimon huffed.  "Of course she wouldn't want to be saved if it meant all that death would be her fault!"

"Paimon..." Aether's gaze wavered at his emergency food.

"And you!" The mascot switched to Xiao.  "She clearly loves you, but you have no idea what that means even though it's bright as day that you feel the same for her!  Why didn't you tell her?!"

"I can't make much of human em--"

"No! Here's what's going to happen.  You're going to go back there, confess your lovey-dovey feelings and get her out of there!"

Xiao disappeared before their eyes, obviously agitated by Paimon's annoying rant.  "Great," Aether pulled at his hair.  "Now look at what you did, Paimon."

"He needs to hear the truth at some point!" She huffed.

..................................

"Xiao?"  Aether and Paimon investigated the Wangshu Inn as soon as they got back to Liyue a week or so later.  "Are you up here?"

"What do you want?"  The adeptus appeared next to them in a similar manner to when they first met.  He was just as unwelcoming as he was back then.

"We made some almond tofu!"  Paimon made a giddy gesture to Aether, and the boy held the dish out to Xiao.

"We thought you would like some," he gave a faint grin.  The yaksha didn't return it, instead returning his gaze to the moonlit scenery past the railing.

"I'll pass."

"Oh..." This is really bad.  Aether sent a worried glance to Paimon.  "Are you sure?  You love almond tofu."

"Mortal food is not to my liking," the yaksha grit his teeth in agitation.  "You should leave.  There's no reason for the two of you to be here."

"Don't be so rude to us!  We came to talk about her!"  Paimon flew forward so that she blocked Xiao's view of the scenery.  "We know how much you care about her.  Isn't there a way to contact her somehow?  You know, with your psychic abilities or something?"

"This conversation is pointless.  If there's nothing else, see yourselves out."

"Xiao."  Aether's shoulders dropped as he tried to figure out the correct words.  He failed to come up with something, and looked to Paimon.  "...Let's go."

Xiao didn't bother to glance their way as they made their exit, instead focusing on the scenery below him.  He hadn't heard from you since you saw him off.  'I love you,' she said.  Why does remembering it hurt so much?  He shivered as he remembered the look in your eyes.  They were so gentle, kind, yet broken.  Like you had just...given up on life.  Just what had Childe done to you to make you say those things?  His thoughts were fortunately interrupted when he felt a shift of energy carried through the wind.  He looked to the Guili Plains up ahead, and dispersed.

The yaksha came upon several lawachurls, which were relatively uncommon to the area compared to other places in Liyue.  The evil that consumed them reeked of gods past. Xiao didn't hesitate to wave a hand over his face and manifest his yaksha mask, throwing himself into his life-long work of defeating the evil that plagues Liyue.  Only this time, he used it as an outlet for his frustrations rather than solely fighting to fulfill his duty.

"My fight goes on."  That's right, he watched the demonic smoke whirl around him.  My fight does not stop for her.  My duty is here.  He twirled his polearm and leapt through the air, slicing at the closest lawachurl.  Since he and the monsters were far from the nearest road, he let loose a little.  And by a little, I mean a lot.  

The nearest trees splintered from the shockwave of his attacks, with the other lawachurls shaking off the bulky rock armor off their backs.  The ground rumbled beneath their feet.  Xiao plummeted to the earth and subsequently killed the first lawachurl with the blow.  Then he moved onto the next one, finding no fear in the monstrous bellow that greeted him face-to-face.  He shoved the lance through it's bottom jaw and jutted it through the skull with little effort.

The third charged just as he removed his polearm from the corpse of the second.  This time Xiao whipped around and thrust his weapon into the monster's knee, yanking it out to then deal several blows across its chest and decapitate it.  "Worthless," he growled as he watched the monsters disintegrate.  He continued his attacks on the remaining four until he stood alone among the ruins.  He watched as the spirits of the damned returned to their rightful places in the earth.

Xiao thought nothing of the disturbed soils and began to walk towards the inn once more until the demonic voices called out to him.  Some were quiet, no more than a whisper, while others were obnoxiously loud and demanded attention.  They moaned and whined, each having a unique pitch of anger tinging their curses and cries for help.  Xiao fell to his knees, with his body leaning on his polearm as it was overwhelmed with the hatred of the damned. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Not this again.

...............................

Your time in Snezhnaya wasn't fun so far, and you often secluded yourself in your room whenever you had the chance to avoid the Tsaritsa or her little puppets.  Childe checked on you often, doing so in a way that showed his concern for your obvious depression as you longingly stared out into the winter wonderland from your window.

You were being pestered by Childe yet again when you became overwhelmingly dizzy and nauseous.  "Urk--"  You doubled over and grabbed onto the curtain to steady yourself.

"Hey, are you alright?"  Childe put a concerned hand on your shoulder.

"What is...this...?"  Your fit of nausea transformed into an overwhelming hatred for nothing in particular.  You fell to all fours, heaving from a level of anger never experienced before.  "What is this!"

"...Comrade?" His words were drowned out by the desperate screams that entered your mind.  Your hands hurried to cover your ears in an attempt to make the voices stop, but they didn't disappear.

"They're so loud!"  You cried out, now in physical pain that was equivalent to being set on fire and shredded with knives.  "Stop!  Shut up!"

Childe quickly dropped to your level and lifted your chin up to examine your glowing eyes and the tears drenching your cheeks.  "What's wrong?"  He mouthed, but you still couldn't hear him.

"It hurts!"  You coughed, one hand covering your mouth only to be retracted and painted with your blood.  I'm bleeding?  Panic set in and the pain only worsened, the voices getting louder and louder while Childe desperately tried to get you to answer him.  "This hate!  Why do I feel so hateful?  Make it stop!"  You were screaming hysterically now, squeezing your eyes shut and clawing at your ears until they too began to bleed.  "Make it stop!"  Your senses were easily overwhelmed, and all you could focus on was the pain and the volume of the voices surrounding you.  "Please!" You couldn't seem to catch a decent breath of air like something heavy was sitting on you.

"Hey now!"  The harbinger watched the blood spill from the lips.  This is...  He pulled you close to him and held you tightly, ordering for medical aid when an agent burst through the door from hearing the ruckus.  "It's okay, it's okay--"

All you could do was continue to heave deep breaths to quell the rage that resided within you, to quell the demonic voices that demanded you to succumb to them.  Childe didn't let up his grip around you and pressed your head tightly against his chest.  Rage.  Hatred.  Agony.  The feelings tore through you like you were made of paper.  It was hard to explain, but the emotions felt otherworldly; nonhuman.  Your blood continued to seep from your mouth and soak into Childe's clothes while he continued to rock you back and forth.  Your screams were a mixture of cries for help and manic giggling as you lost all sense of rationality.

.......................................

"Hey girlie," the familiar harbinger was hovering above your face when you finally reopened your eyes.  You were apparently still in your room, this time lying in bed with a damp cloth draped across your forehead and the moonlight illuminating the two of you.  "How're you feeling?"

"Mn."  You blinked sluggishly and tried to move around.

"Ah, I wouldn't do that.  You were bleeding internally, you know," he let out a strangled laugh as you returned to your original position.  "You really had us worried for a sec."

"Yeah right." The growl that emitted from your throat seemed to put Childe off guard, another flash of concern waving over his demeanor.  It was clear residual hatred still resided in you even though that was your usual response to his remarks.  Your eyes were still glowing.

"You feel his pain now?"  He raised a brow.  "Is that how this bond works?"

"What of it?" A dry giggle escaped your chapped lips as the hushed voices continued to plague you.

Interesting...This could pose a possible problem for the soldiers...I should inform Dottore immediately.  Childe removed himself from the bed and headed for the door.  "I'll check on you in a few hours.  Try and get some rest."

A slight draft brushed across the tip of your nose the second he closed the door, and you looked to the window to find a shadowy figure obscuring the moonlight that entered the room. It slowly approached the bed until it stood at your side.  The closer it got, the louder the voices became.  You winced when it leaned over you.

"You..."  Xiao's face occupied most of your vision.  He didn't need to know what happened to understand it was linked to his dealings with the possessed lawachurls a few hours ago.  "I felt your distress."

"What're you doing here?" You snapped quietly, the voices still raging a storm within your words.  It's not like you've communicated with him at all ever since you confessed your feelings.  He had no reason to be here...right?

"Do not fall prey to the darkness," he warned.  "I cannot save you if you allow yourself to be overrun."  He hesitantly placed a hand against your forehead in an attempt to gage your wellbeing.  He didn't have the powers of Zhongli, so there was no point in trying, but he did it anyway.  Your glowing eyes seemed to capture his, and the two of you stared at one another for a few moments.

Another laugh left your lips, and it was nothing short of disturbing unlike the airy carefree ones Xiao had heard you release before.  It was evil.  Mocking.  "I never called you here."

The yaksha let out something between a growl and a sigh.  "I have no choice but to kill you if you're consumed.  Do not let them overwhelm you," he repeated as he locked on your eyes.  While his words were sharp, the look in his eyes was nothing but endearing.  "I can always hear them, but you don't have to.  It's just a side effect; this too, shall pass."

"...It hurts."  Those two pained whimpers broke through the wall of hatred that surrounded you from within.  The glowing lights in your eyes flickered as you regained yourself in his presence.  

"I understand," he assured while his hand left your forehead to accompany your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your skin to wipe the tear that had fallen from your right eye.  He winced when he realized blood was mixed in with it, but didn't let on that he was taking a closer look at your eye.  Mortal bodies cannot withstand this...He bit the inside of his cheek as he thought of the worst-case scenario that had consumed his fellow yakshas long ago.  If we get them out of her now, she should still be able to fully recover.

He continued to stroke your cheek while you stared up at him, still unable to fully move your tired limbs that felt like they were severed at the ligaments.  Eventually you gathered enough strength to move your arm and place your hand over the one that cupped the side of your face.  You weren't sure of how much time had passed, but painful tears fell occasionally and were coupled with Xiao's brief looks of concern.

"I'm here," he soothed.  Archons, the way he handled you was so delicate.  Had he ever been this gentle with you, even when he caught you in your lowest moments?  If he had, the voices made it difficult to retrieve the memory.  They continued to scream and swirl within the depths of your mind, but the presence of the yaksha subdued them somewhat.

"I-I didn't...want to leave you..."  Your bloodied tears stained his hand and your pillow.  Xiao shifted on the bed upon hearing this and feeling your tears brim the corners of his eyes.  He continued to stroke your cheek.

"Do not speak; you're making your condition worse," he ordered.  "I can't hold your decision against you."

"But--"

"'What matters now isn't failures of the past; we are here together.'  Are those not your words?"  His head tilted slightly, and a fond smile formed across his lips.  "Rest.  I will be here until morning."

"Don't...leave..." You begged, gripping his hand a little tighter.  "Please."

Xiao watched the glow in your eyes eventually flicker out right before you fell asleep.  He took it upon himself to wipe the bloody streaks from your cheeks, and even let you continue to hold his hand while you slept.  He stayed true to his word and sat beside you until the first light of dawn shone through your window, his hand never fully leaving your skin until he had to return to Liyue.

....................

Coming up:  A harbinger’s gift: some much-needed therapy.  Tea time with an archon.  The moonsong.