#as well as beating the game for the first time

[alotofpockets]

Practice makes perfect | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you and Leah practised kissing each other to prepare for kissing boys, but you quickly realise that after that you don't want to kiss anyone but her

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

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As the only two girls on the boys' team growing up, you and Leah clicked right away. Football brought you together, but it was everything else about her that kept you close. Not many people had stuck around in your life the way Leah had. From meeting at six years old to now, a decade later, she was still your best friend.

The football dream was becoming reality for the both of you. The young Lionesses and Arsenal Academy were where you spend most of your time besides school or each other’s houses. The two of you were inseparable and everyone knew it. Where you went Leah went, and visa versa.

“Remember when we were like twelve and we practised kissing?” Leah asks you out of nowhere while you’re sitting in her bed and playing video games. You think back to the moment.

It was a similar situation to this one, you were having a sleepover and had just finished watching a romcom. “How do you know if you’re gonna be a good kisser if you’ve never kissed someone before?” Leah asked with a voice filled with curiosity. 

“I have no clue. Why don’t they show those parts in the movies?” You turned off the tv and pulled the covers further over your body. “Exactly! Like when I kiss a guy for the first time, I want to make sure that like I can kiss him properly, you know?” 

You nodded, understanding her concerns. “What if we practised kissing together? Then we can tell each other if we’re any good.” Leah loved your idea and instantly sat up in bed again. “You are brilliant!” 

She made you sit up as well and once you did she double checked if it was okay. When you nodded in confirmation, she leaned in and pecked your lips. “How did I do?” She instantly asked. “Good I think, what about me?” She smiled proudly, “Nice, you as well.” 

You had practised a couple more times that night, and when you both liked boys, you had practised some more so that the first kisses you would have with them would be perfect.

“Yeah, I remember.” In the meantime Leah had paused the game to fully focus on the conversation she wanted to have. “I was wondering if maybe we could practise something again.”

“What do you want to practise?” You asked to urge her to go on. “Well, I heard from some girls in our class that they’ve been making out with their boyfriends, and they talked about how it goes and everything, but even with that information I don’t feel even remotely ready to just make out with a guy. So, I thought that maybe, if you’re up for it of course, we could practise like we did before?”

Even with the introduction Leah gave, her question still caught you off guard. Leah’s hopeful eyes were hard to ignore while you thought about her question. “Just so we don’t totally embarrass ourselves when the time comes.”

"Yeah, exactly! I don’t want to make things weird between us though, you can totally say no.” She quickly added.  “It’s not weird.” you said shifting to sitting cross-legged, facing Leah, on her bed. “We’re just practising.”

Leah’s face lit up with relief, “Exactly, Just practising.” She turned to sit cross-legged as well. She told you how your classmates had described making out, so you were both on the same page. 

“So, eh,” you cleared your throat, “do we just go for it?” Leah let out a nervous laugh, “I guess so?” You nodded, which Leah took as her sign to start leaning in. She inched closer slowly, until her lips brushed yours. 

At first she just pecked your lips like you had practised before. Your heart started beating faster, but you didn’t understand why. Her soft, warm lips on yours felt familiar, yet somehow different. “Still okay?” She asked to make sure you wanted to do this as well. “Yeah.”

You leaned in this time and let your lips move in sync with hers. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as Leah reached out her hand and cupped your cheek to pull you a little closer. 

When she pulled back after a few moments, her eyes searched yours. “How was that?” 

Your brain felt like it was running a million miles an hour, and you were scrambling to find words. “Good.” You managed finally. “What about me?” Leah’s lips quirked into that proud smile she had done last time, “Good too.” 

A feeling came over you that you had never felt before, you couldn’t quite place it, but before you could overthink it, Leah was leaning in again. “Practice makes perfect, right?” she said softly, and when you didn’t move away, her lips were on yours again.

That night while Leah slept soundly besides you, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Trying to make sense of what you were feeling. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when you saw Leah kiss a boy in your class, that you realised what was happening. The moment you saw the two of them together, you felt a pang of jealousy. All you knew in that moment was that you weren’t jealous of Leah in that moment, but you were jealous of him. 

You turned on your heels and got away from the situation as quickly as possible. Of course, you headed straight over to the football field. The one place where everything felt right. You must’ve spent hours kicking a ball around until your parent’s called asking when you’d be home. “No Leah tonight?” Your mom had asked when you walked in, seemingly without the blonde by your side. You hadn’t even thought about it, but usually Leah would join you on Fridays. “Eh, no not tonight.” You say quickly. “Do I have time for a quick shower?” Your mom nodded and you rushed to your room. 

You checked your phone and sure enough you had a bunch of messages from Leah. The last one read I hope everything is alright. Couldn’t find you at school so I headed home. Please text me back!

You didn’t text Leah back that night, or the next morning. It wasn’t that you were mad at her, of course you weren’t, you didn’t think you ever could be, but you just didn’t know what to say. Every time you thought about her, you saw that boy’s lips on hers. Every time you saw it play back in your mind, it made your chest ache.

But Leah was Leah. Persistent, stubborn, and your best friend. So, it didn’t take her long to just show up at your house unannounced. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She stated from your doorframe, after your dad had let her in. She found you laying on the floor with one of your textbooks in front of you, trying to bury yourself into your homework. “What’s going on?” 

You glanced at her and then quickly focused back on your textbook. “Nothing.” Leah shook her head and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Liar.” She sighed, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You said a little too quickly and defensive for Leah to believe it. She crossed her arms and leaned against your door, studying you like she was trying to solve a puzzle. “I just need some space.” You said softly, unable to meet her eye.

“Since when do we do space?” Her voice softened. She walked further into your room and sat down on the edge of your bed. “Come on, talk to me.”

You wanted to. You wanted to tell her everything. You always told Leah everything, but how could you tell her about your feelings? How could you tell her that you were jealous of a guy she kissed? Talk about the way your heart raced when you made eye contact with her? 

“I’m fine, Lee.” You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes and Leah could tell. You saw that she was fighting her inner monologue to press further, her lips parting like she was about to. Before she could say anything, your mother yelled upstairs, “Leah, honey, are you staying for dinner?”

Leah turned to you, “Do you want me to go?” You shake your head, “No, it’s okay. You can stay.” She opened the door and told your mom she would love to before turning back to you. “I’m gonna help her with dinner, you know, so you can have some more space.” This time you noticed her smile not fully reaching her eyes, but before you could say anything, she had already closed the door behind herself.

You stopped ignoring Leah, because you knew she would just find a way in, but that didn’t mean that your interactions were any less awkward, well at least for you. From Leah’s side it seemed like nothing had happened, while you questioned every interaction you had with her.

When she laughed at your jokes, or let her hand linger on your arm or leg, everything made your skin feel like it was on fire.

A few weeks later Leah was picking out her prom outfit with her mom. She had tried on a bunch of dresses, but none of them seemed to be what she was looking for. Today was the last chance of finding something, since prom was literally tonight. So, Amanda was determined to spend the whole morning driving from store to store until they found something.

It was the third store of the morning where Leah’s eyes fell on a baby blue suit, and she knew instantly that that was going to be the one. Her mom encouraged her to put it on, and the smile on her daughter’s face was exactly the reason why she had.

“This is going to be the one!” Leah said as she admired the suit in the mirror. “It’s lovely Leah Cathrine.” Leah smiled big, “Thank you.” After paying for the clothes, the pair headed back to the car.

“Oh mom, I wanted to ask if you could drive y/n and me tonight.” Her mom’s brow furrowed. “Darling of course I would, but I thought y/n wasn’t going?” Leah looks at her mom as if she was crazy. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh well, because that’s what she said yesterday. She said she wasn’t really feeling up to going.” Leah didn’t understand, you hadn’t told her anything. “But she was so excited about it and had her outfit picked out like months ago already. Do you know why she isn’t going?”

Amanda shakes her head, “I don’t know.” Leah was quick to respond. “You didn’t push further?” Amanda chuckles lightly, “No, that’s more your thing, darling.”

Leah sat back in the seat and crossed her arm, going over what she could do. “Can you drive me to her place tonight?” She nodded, “Sure, darling.”

You were watching a movie in your sweats when you heard a knock on the door. When you opened the door, Leah stood in front of you with a small bouquet of flowers. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at prom?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Leah shoots back instantly. “I’m not going Lee, you should still go though. I’m sure your boyfriend would like you to be there.”

“Boyfriend?” Leah steps inside and closes the door behind her. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.” You shrug your shoulders, “I saw you and Steve kiss, figured you two were together.”

“Oh no definitely not.” Leah said defensively, “He kissed me, and I told him that I wasn’t interested.” You searched her eyes for anything to prove what she was saying wrong, but she seemed sincere. “Oh.”

“So, come to prom with me?” Leah said, holding out the bouquet to you. “Sorry, Lee, I can’t.” She retracted the flowers reluctantly. “Why not?”

Her question hung in the air. Again you wanted to tell her, but you just couldn’t. “I just can’t, please drop it.” But Leah was Leah and there wasn’t any scenario in which she would drop this. “I won’t drop it. You’ve been excited about your outfit, the music, the pictures. You’ve been talking about prom non-stop for months and now you’re here in sweats not going. Please just tell me what’s going on. If I did something, let me in and let me fix it.” Her plea sounded desperate.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, and there is nothing you can fix.” You sighed in frustration, wishing she would just drop it. “Did someone else do something? Please just tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” Leah focussed on you instantly, not having expected you to break so soon. “I can’t go to prom with you because ever since we practised making out, all I can think about is wanting to kiss you again.” 

Your eyes were looking anywhere but Leah, not ready to see the way she would react to that confession. “Please look at me.” She slowly reached up her hand to your cheek to turn your head to face her. You expected anger, disgust, or even hurt in her eyes, but instead you were met with softness. 

“You know the reason I told Steve I wasn’t interested?” You shook your head. “It’s because after he kissed me, I felt nothing. Which was a stark opposite to how I felt when we kissed. I swear it was just practise when I asked you, but I think that was exactly what I needed to realise my feelings for you.” Leah confessed. 

You stare at her for a moment, taking in the confession. She liked you the same way that you liked her? The corners of your lips slowly rose as it was all coming together in your head. And then without hesitation, you lean in and kiss her for real this time. She kissed you back instantly, and pulled you closer like she had done last time. It felt even better than your time practising, now knowing your feelings for each other.

When Leah pulled away, she leaned her forehead against yours. “So, prom?” Your smile grew. “Yes, just let me get changed.” 

You rushed to your room and quickly got ready. “Wow, you look amazing!” Leah said as you walked back downstairs. “So do you!” You pecked her lips appreciatively. She took your hand and pulled you out the door where her mom was still waiting in the driveway. “Ready to go to prom, girls?” She knew by your happy faces that whatever was going on between the two of you these past weeks, was resolved. “Yeah, more than ready.” You said and Leah squeezed your hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”

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[threeacttragedy]

Entry 11: The One About the Heart of the Ocean

My father is a big history buff. He fancies himself a bit of an expert about the U.S. Civil War, U.S. Presidents, and World War II. In fact, he’s gifted me with the Useless Knowledge of which four U.S. Presidents were assassinated while in office (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy – you’re welcome for that little addition to your own Library of Useless Knowledge).

But, more importantly, my dad has instilled in me the importance of a timeline. The idea that, if you’re collecting information, it’s vital to keep it in chronological order, that way you can look at it, (try to) understand it, and theorize about what happened before and after an event. If the facts are out of order, the conclusion you reach may be in error.

My father and I also like to solve True Crime together. When he visits, we spend hours on the porch studying some random, usually cold, true crime event. We timeline the shit out of it, connect the puzzle pieces together, and exclaim in the end, “We’ve solved it!” I suppose that is part of what keeps me interested in Lukola – not that there is anything criminal in Lukola, except perhaps the “Single White Female” that pops up behind Nicola from time to time – I just enjoy the game of trying to put the pieces together.

Lukola has become a rather intriguing puzzle, don’t you think? It’s definitely one to which I do not have all the pieces. I do, however, enjoy collecting the information and chronologizing it, and now I find it enjoyable to scribble my thoughts out on Tumblr.

So, how did I get here?

Well, it started with boredom and ended with a timeline.

My first entry to the timeline?

July 20, 2024.

What happened on that date?

Well, nothing spectacular really, except JVN posted –

HOLD UP!

HOLD THE FUCK UP!!

OH SHIT!!

YES!

YES, you guessed it! After blowing JVN off for at least three, maybe four, posts in a row, I’m finally getting around to dedicating an entire entry to Their Royal Highness.

JVN is such a fascinating creature. I mean, you get beautiful, witty, and intelligent wrapped into one human being. Oh, and they are kind of a catty bitch, too, and who doesn’t love one of those? That’s why they're the Heart of the Ocean on the USS Lukola; they just give off this very rare blue diamond vibe. Well, that, and because something they did marks the focal point – the heart – from which the rest of my timeline branches.

*I will cut in here to note that I am referring to JVN as they/their in this entry as their Instagram bio indicates they accept “they/he/she.”

Okay, back to July 20.

On that date, JVN posted to TikTok their version of the Charli xcx “Apple” dance. You know that annoying TikTok trend that took over our summer? Yeah, that’s the one – the same one Antonia tried doing – she just couldn’t pull off the JVN version of it. Dear girl couldn’t come close to matching JVN’s “enthusiasm,” and JVN’s version was only made more enjoyable in that they were seemingly mocking Antonia!

But, all’s fair in love and war, right?

JVN’s bestie, Nicola, had already spent the entire summer subtlety combating Antonia over social media. The vibe in the fandom was that Antonia was always trying to one-up Nicola, with Nicola always coming out the victor. I’m sorry, Antonia, you just can’t beat some perfectly timed BTS drops.

So, why did JVN’s TikTok post intrigue me? It wasn’t because it was that amusing. It was because they’d done something I hadn’t noticed before – they’d taunted Antonia on a public forum.

Curious, that.

Now, I’m not saying it was the first time JVN mocked Antonia, but July 20 was the first time I noticed it. That date is the heart of my timeline, but it does not have to be the heart of yours. We can all start at different times but still reach the same conclusions, so long as we keep the information in order.

You would think one wouldn’t mess with the “girl friend” of your best friend’s “best friend,” at least not publicly. But, here was JVN shamelessly mocking Antonia on TikTok. And, just so we’re clear, the public opinion of what JVN was doing with this TikTok is available to view in the comments of their TikTok post. It wasn’t just me that came to this conclusion – and JVN has left these comments up for four months at this point.

JVN’s “Apple” dance was only made more interesting the following day – July 21 – when they included it in their Sunday Dump post on Instagram.

And, Nicola liked it.

Hmm, things were becoming curiouser and curiouser.

Let’s not even pretend that Nicola isn’t street savvy and didn’t understand the context of that video. And, let’s definitely not underestimate the length of her claws.

To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention to Lukola since mid-June. It was an “it is what it is” thing for me. Even though I believed the relationship between Luke and Nicola was complicated (see my first blog for that story), Luke had also apparently disappeared into the summertime sun with his friend group, which included Antonia.

Something about JVN openly making fun of Antonia, and Nicola, at the very least acknowledging it with an Instagram like, made me realize something in Luke’s situation must be shifting.

What have I said about little changes? That deviations in modus operandi are what make people start giving the side-eye to a situation.

And, side-eye I did!

I started paying attention to JVN and, on July 25, they posted a series of photos on TikTok and Instagram showcasing “What I would wear if you invited me to your…” We will fast-forward through all the slides until we get to the last one, which read, “…just got dumped and going to take 8 shots dinner at Lupe’s in SoHo.” Was it possible that JVN was hinting at a dumpster fire at the Soho Farmhouse?

If you don’t know what the Soho Farmhouse is, it’s the place where Luke and his friend group, including Antonia, frequented, probably on Luke’s dime (*insert wicked laugh – oh, and a disclaimer that this is all speculation).

Funny that Nicola liked this post on Instagram, too, and it wasn’t even buried in a Sunday Dump.

At this point, JVN had really sparked my damn interest. Like, dear one, what are you hinting at?

On July 29, Deux Moi creeped out from under its rock and reminded the fandom to hate Luke by rehashing Papsmear. Thank you, we needed that. I mean, half of us almost forgot how much we hated him! That’s me being a sarcastic tart, by the way. If we were to fast-forward to today, I’d argue that Luke was the most darling thing to come out of Bridgerton.

Any ways, again, thank you, Deux Moi, for those suspiciously timed Papsmear pictures because they aligned perfectly with the pap pictures People dropped the following day – July 30.

Yep, I am talking about those strangely awkward pap pictures of Luke hanging out in the murky waters of Sorrento with Antonia. Oh, and let’s not forget the video footage of that encounter, which I am sure still upsets and confuses people to this day. In fact, I know it does because, as I was researching this, I had a couple of people get annoyed after I asked them to view it. Funny thing is, that shit never bothered me (I didn’t say that it didn’t later confuse me!). The first time I saw them, I was like, “Luke is not into that girl at all,” and my next thought was, “I wonder how old these pictures are because I would have sworn JVN was hinting at something.”

Now, this story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t address the rumor portion of it.

First rumor? That Antonia set up the entire Italy pap photo-op because she seemingly knew where to find the cameraman. So, let’s discuss that video everyone seems to hate to acknowledge exists. In the video, you can see Antonia maybe looking in the direction of the cameraman. She then leans into Luke, either to whisper something to him or to reach for something behind him. In my opinion – and this is strictly my opinion – it looks like she’s pretending to reach for something over his shoulder. Still shots of this interaction are the photos People published, presumably because Luke and Antonia looked like they were cheek to cheek.

Okay, notice I said, “first rumor,” because, yeah, there’s a second rumor, too! But, it fits snuggly into that first rumor. Almost immediately – because that’s how fast the Lukola Sleuths get to work around here – rumors began to circulate that Antonia was following on Instagram the photographer that took the Italy pap pictures. In fact, several people I’ve spoken to swear that they witnessed during a TikTok Live a host prove that Antonia was following this photographer. That’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it? Yeah, it fucking is.

Let’s keep moving.

That same day, we had that video drop of Luke watching fireworks, at night, with sunglasses. Speaking of sunglasses, I guess Luke found those motherfuckers because he sure as shit didn’t have them while floating around in that dirty ass water. Any ways, at the end of the video, Rory appears behind Luke, looking in the direction of the camera and smiling like a condescending, sneaky little shit. Now, who was the cameraman? Well, a possible suspect would be Antonia since she was not seen in the video. Go figure.

Alright, so that day finally ended and on July 31, JVN posted to TikTok a cutesy video of themself at the market titled, “When you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments.” They prance around the market and randomly look at the cameraman (Mark) with a smile and a pose. The caption reads, “I welcome sneaky pics but I can’t guarantee I won’t sneak some back or put on a show for you.”

WAIT A MINUTE!

Did JVN just inexplicably confirm Luke was getting papped by his own friends?

Yeah, I kind of think JVN did.

And, Nicola liked this one as well when JVN posted it to Instagram on August 8.

Didn’t I tell you JVN was a fascinating creature? And, to be honest, JVN only gets better as this Lukola ship continues on its voyage.

Oh, strangely enough, a few days after the Italy pap crap, Luke returned to London alone. The friend group became unsettlingly silent, and Nicola started to get really, really loud – Chaos Week was incoming! And, so were some more JVN crumbs (and nicely timed clap backs).

[ellecdc]

helllooo ! (first ask ever, actually, go me lol) I am requesting with your Winter Games :

🐻 here to hibernate - “oh god, did i fall asleep on you?!” from the sleepy list :)

with Regulus x reader? or Regulus x James if you’re looking for an actual ship like that :3

ily and I hope you’re doing well !! mwah

first ask ever, go you INDEED! thanks for the prompt, and for being here with me! <3

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who he falls asleep on [627 words]

CW: fem!reader, pranking, siblings, brief mention of Black family causing anxiety, fluff

Regulus had, admittedly, not been sleeping all that well leading up to the winter holidays. 

For better or for worse, Sirius had convinced him to rip the plaster off and join him at the Potter’s, if not permanently, then at least for the Christmas break. 

First, he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having to potentially return home for the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having to find some excuse that his parents would find believable to remain at school over the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of how his parents might react to the news of him attending the Potter’s for the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having not gotten a response from them at all (the devil you know, and all that).

And finally, he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of now having to celebrate the holidays with the Potter’s. Pointedly, perhaps, with you. 

So when he startled awake to the sound of the train compartment door closing - catching the tail end of his brother and his friends disappearing down the train’s corridors - to find himself having fallen asleep on your shoulder of all places, he was more than a little bit mortified. 

“Oh Merlin, did I fall asleep on you!?” He asked as he slid to the very opposite side of the bench to put some clearly well needed space between the two of you. 

“Just a little, it’s alright.” You offered with a shrug as you refused to look up from the book in your hand, though Regulus noted you take the opportunity to reposition to a more comfortable spot now that you wouldn’t risk waking him up. 

“M’so sorry.” He mumbled into his hands as he tried to wipe the residual lethargy from his face; an anxious, crackling energy bubbling from his chest to his fingertips. “I’ve not been sleeping well; this is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” you chuckled kindly, “you’re obviously tired, we’ve got a long train ride, might as well sleep, yeah?” 

You smiled gently, perhaps even shyly at him, before turning your face back to your book, though you didn’t appear to actually be reading it. 

“Where’d our brother’s go?” He asked after a few beats of silence; you looked up then, as if only now realising the compartment was empty.

“Oh, erm. I think they wanted to pull one last prank of the year; wanted to go out with a-”

But the end of your sentence was cut off by a loud bang that shook the seats beneath you two, followed by some groaning, shrieking, and cackling. 

You and Regulus shared a soft, breathy snicker of your own. 

“You didn’t feel like joining them?” He queried, quite certain he wasn’t mistaken when he noticed you flush.

“Erm, no; I was quite alright here.”

Your brother’s came crashing into the compartment then with Remus and Peter on their heels; breathless, laughing, and covered in a small dusting of red and green glitter. 

“That was a good one, Trouble.” Sirius proclaimed as he took a sloppy seat across from you. “Can’t believe you opted to sit here like Reggie’s personal glorified pillow instead of seeing it through.”

“Don’t tease her.” Remus chided quietly; likely quiet enough that you hadn’t heard, but Regulus had. 

“So,” Regulus drawled then, sharing a conspiratorial look with you. “I have this to look forward to all break?” 

Sirius scoffed in offence. “You should be so lucky, baby brother.” 

“Don’t worry,” you murmured quietly, “leaves us plenty of time to make them pay.” 

Regulus couldn’t help but wonder if - just maybe - holiday’s at the Potter’s wouldn’t be so bad.

[yellowbrokenblue]

Harry joins you in the hot tub…

Your brother brought his best friend on vacation, and you find yourselves stuck in a rather steamy situation.

cw: smut, cheating, degradation, semi public sex, harry and reader being a horny mess

kofi

You had no idea how your brother had managed to coax your parents into paying for his best friend, Harry, to come on vacation with your family, but somehow it had happened.

And it was killing you.

Harry was the sort of guy you only saw in movies. A perfectly chiseled jawline, brown locks you wanted to tangle your fingers in, and pink lips with a permanent smirk on them.

And what was even worse was that you were kept up at night with thought of him with your own fingers in your pussy.

It almost made you forget about your boyfriend, Brandon, who had conveniently had to attend a friends birthday party instead of his own girlfriend’s family vacation.

Everyone had been asleep for hours, but you had no chance of sleeping while dirty thoughts of Niall’s best friend kept circulating your thoughts- so you quickly changed into your bikini and made your way to the hot tub for a late night dip.

The water wasn’t as soothing as you’d hoped it to be, and instead the heat of the water had made you even more horny. Resisting the urge to dip your fingers below your bikini bottoms was killing you right now.

“Seems I wasn’t only one who wanted a dip in the hot tub tonight.”

Your head snapped upwards. Everyone was supposed to be asleep, you weren’t supposed to be hearing any voices at this time of night.

Especially not his voice.

“Harry.” You breathed.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked.

He was wearing only his swimming trunks, leaving his beautiful, tattooed chest on full display.

You caught yourself staring at him, and snapped your eyes away.

You don’t remember the last time you took a breath. You’d been holding it in as he stepped into the hot tub and settled himself directly opposite you, not breaking eye contact the whole time he got in.

“Why’s Brandon not here, then?”

You looked at him, confusion on your features as you listened to Harry spit out Brandon’s name with distaste.

“He couldn’t make it.”

Harry shook his head, frowning, “He’s a fucking prick, Y/N.”

You shrug.

“Oh well. I’m glad he’s not here. It’s kinda nice it just being me and you.” Harry said again.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t you think?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said quietly, “It is nice.”

You squeeze your thighs together. The effect Harry had on you right now simply by sitting opposite you without a shirt on was crazy.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Harry asked.

You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, and nod.

“I say we play a little game, hm? You seem tense, let’s lighten the mood.”

“Uhm, alright. What’s the game?”

Harry shrugged, “I get to answer any question, and you have to answer. Then you ask me a question, and I have to answer… And so on.”

You frown, “And what if I don’t want to answer?”

A smirk spread over his features.

“Then you gotta take an item of clothing off.”

A lump forms in your throat.

“We’re wearing swimsuits, Harry.” You said.

“I don’t have a problem as long as you don’t have a problem.” He said, “Do you? Do you have a problem?”

You shook your head.

“No problem.”

Harry grinned, “Good.” He said, “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

You nod.

God, he was so hot. Sitting there, staring at you with those eyes. You felt like you were going to sink to the bottom of the hot tub and never come back out.

“What’s your body count?” Harry asked.

You swallowed. You had expected the questions to make a sexual turn eventually, but not straight out on the first one.

“Three.” You said, not elaborating anymore.

“Now you ask me one.”

You thought for a second. If Harry wanted the questions to be about sex, you’d make them about sex.

“Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

You noticed Harry smirk, and he wasted no time answering the question.

“A girl sucked me off in a movie theatre one time, but the weirdest place I’ve fucked someone? I dunno, like, janitors closet in high school?”

“Movie theatre? Like during the movie, or in the bathroom?”

“During the movie. There wasn’t many people watching the film to be fair, but the movie was on.”

“You’re insane.”

“I know.”

How you fucking wished it had been you sucking Harry’s dick in a movie theatre.

“Okay. My turn.” Harry said, “Why are you happy that Brandon didn’t come on vacation?”

“What?” You asked, “Of course I’m not happy. I’m upset about it!”

You frown at Harry.

“Either you tell the truth, Y/N, or you take an item off. Your choice, sweetheart.”

You think for a moment. Neither options are particularly good ones.

“Okay. Fine. I’m happy he’s not here. I just like… Needed a break from his constant complaining and constant need to create an argument.”

“That’s everything?”

You nod.

“My turn.” You said.

You pause.

Nothing comes to mind at all.

“I can’t think of one.” You say.

“Do you want me to just go again?”

It’s almost as if your heart had stopped beating- you were barely able to process the words that Harry was saying.

“Was it you that I heard touching yourself in your bedroom last night?”

Your cheeks go pink. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

You swallow again, your heart racing.

“No answer?”

Harry smirks, sliding over to the other side of the hot tub, stopping in front of you.

“Sweetheart, you know the rules. If you don’t answer, that skimpy little bikini of yours has to come off.”

“I-”

You physically couldn’t get any words out of your mouth. Your thighs were pressed together as Harry stared hungrily at you.

He moved his hand closer and closer to the back of your neck where your bikini was tied, and in one swift movement, pulled the string of it, causing it to fall into the pool.

His eyes didn’t leave your breasts for what felt like forever. They were locked on your body, his eyes taking everything in.

“One point to me.” He said, “And I’m changing the fuckin’ rules. Only I get to ask questions now.”

You nod.

“Tell me who you were thinking of when you had your fingers in your own cunt last night, Y/N.” He said, his hands that had been placed on your hips moving closer to your panties, his fingers eventually dipping under the waistband, “Cause I sure as hell know it wasn’t Brandon.”

He spat out your boyfriend’s name like dirt on his shoe.

“Does he make you cum, Y/N? Does he make you cum with his tiny dick in your pussy? Does the make you feel good the way you know that I would make you feel good?”

Harry didn’t even wait for you to answer any of his questions. He ripped your panties down your legs, leaving you stark naked in the pool.

“Harry.” You say.

The pain between your legs was unmeasurable. You needed him so badly rignt now that it hurt.

“Tell me you want me, baby, and I’ll give you anything.”

“I want you, Harry.” You say.

“You can have me, babygirl. But first I want to see you touch yourself. Touch yourself the way I heard you last night.”

You wasted no time doing what he asked. The need to release the tension between your legs was so bad right now you’d do anything.

Your hand slipped between your legs and found your clit, rubbing fast circles, moaning out in pleasure.

“Dirty, dirty girl.” He said, “All this because you are so desperate to fuck me.”

“Please Harry. Please I need you.”

“That’s it, baby girl.” Harry said, palming his dick through his pants, “Beg for it. Beg for my cock, Y/N.”

You moan, your fingers still playing with your clit.

“Please Harry. Please give me your cock. I’m so desperate.”

He quickly changed the positions in you both were in, and had his shorts off his body and dangling over the edge of the tub in no time.

“That’s it.” He said, helping you straddle his lap, “You’re gonna take daddy’s cock like the pretty little whore you are.”

Daddy. You moan at his words.

He had hold of your hips, and you moaned as he pushed you onto his cock. Pushing his hips up so you took the whole length all at once.

“Such a tight cunt.” Harry groaned as his cock was pushed right inside of you.

You tried to grind against him, but he had hold of your hips so you couldn’t move.

“Stay still.” He instructed, “Play with those pretty tits and then I’ll let you move.”

You brought your hands to your breasts. You’d do anything for this man right now.

Harry moaned as he watched you push your tits together.

“Oh.” He moaned, “I’m gonna fuck those tits after this. Cum all over them.”

The feeling of his cock inside of you was already making you feral, but this was on another level.

“Please!” You say.

Harry seems to snap, and out of nowhere starts to move your hips, rocking you against him.

“Bounce for me.” He said. “Bounce on daddy’s cock.”

You moved your hips faster than you ever had before, moaning with each time you pushed your hips towards him, his cock filling you up more and more each time.

“Oh, Harry.”

Harry helps you moved faster and faster until you’re physically crying with how close you are to an orgasm.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” You cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a fucking tidal wave.

Your legs were trembling as Harry groaned, indicating he’d reached his own high, your body falling limp, resting against him.

“You’re never gonna fuck that Brandon loser again. You understand?” Harry said, through his own orgasm, “It’s my cock only from now on.”

[redocity]

Buck with a reader who is Chris' teacher, and Eddie asks Buck to pick him up from school since he's on call whereas Buck isn't, but Buck got caught up in a little traffic so he's late so it's just Chris and reader hanging out in class, and when Chris sees Buck he's so dang happy and reader finds it infectious, and Buck and reader hit it off? (Maybe Buck 3.0?)

PICK-UP — E.BUCKLEY

buck pick’s up chris from school as a favour, and finds himself oddly fond of chris’ teacher.

evan buckley x gn!teacher!reader | fluff | 1.2k | masterlist.

a/n — buck 3.0 deserves all the happiness in the world

You glanced at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick by as the classroom emptied out, until it left just you and Christopher.

His classmates had already been picked up, one by one, but Chris was still waiting patiently in his seat near the window, flipping through a book about space.

You smiled at the sight. He was always so curious, and it didn’t take much for him to lose himself in a new discovery.

“Everything okay, Chris?” You asked, coming over to sit beside him.

He looked up, his face bright with a grin. “Yeah, my dad said Buck was coming to pick me up today,”

You nodded, though you couldn’t help but glance at the clock again. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” you said, hoping to reassure him.

Eddie had called earlier to let you know that his shift was running late, so Buck, whoever that was, had stepped in to help.

You hadn’t met him before, but from the way Chris talked about him in class, it was clear Buck was an important figure in his life.

The minutes stretched on, and the school parking lot outside began to clear out, with fewer and fewer cars rolling through. It wasn’t like you had any pressing plans, but you hated to think of Chris waiting much longer.

“Want to play a quick game while we wait?” you suggested, pulling out a deck of cards from your desk.

Chris nodded eagerly, and before long, the two of you were playing a quiet round of Go Fish, his laughter filling the room as you tried to act overly dramatic each time he asked for a card.

You couldn’t help but enjoy moments like these—teaching wasn’t always easy, but it was days like this, spending time with kids like Chris, that reminded you why you loved it so much.

Then, just as you were reshuffling the deck for another round, you heard hurried footsteps echoing down the hall. The door swung open, and a tall man burst in, slightly out of breath but grinning widely.

“Hey, buddy!” he called, his voice full of warmth.

“Buck!” Chris’s face lit up in a way that was absolutely infectious, his joy so pure that it tugged at your heartstrings. He quickly abandoned the card game, pushing his chair back as Buck crossed the room in a few long strides to give him a hug.

“Sorry I'm late,” Buck said, kneeling down to meet Chris’s height. “Got caught in some traffic. But hey, I'm here now!”

Chris beamed up at him, clearly unfazed by the wait. “It’s okay! We were playing Go Fish!”

Buck chuckled, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for the first time, and you felt an odd flutter in your chest. He was handsome in a casual, rugged sort of way—dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, but with an air of confidence that made him stand out.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, standing up and extending a hand toward you. “I’m Buck, by the way.”

You took his hand, smiling warmly. “No problem at all. I’m Chris’ teacher.”

His grip was firm but friendly, and when he let go, you found yourself still feeling the warmth of it. “Chris talks about you a lot,” Buck said, his tone light but sincere. “Says you’re the best at making science fun.”

Chris, still holding onto Buck’s side, nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, they’re the best!”

You laughed, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks at the compliment. “Well, Chris makes it easy. He’s a great student.”

Buck’s eyes softened as he looked at Chris, the fondness unmistakable. “Yeah, he is.”

The moment hung in the air for a beat, comfortable yet filled with an energy you couldn’t quite put your finger on. There was something about Buck—his warmth, the way he interacted with Chris, and the way he had this effortless ability to make you feel at ease.

“Can we finish the game before we go?” Chris blinks between the two of you, and you spare a glance in Buck’s direction at the request. It was his call at the end of the day.

“Please?”

Buck folds almost immediately. “Alright,”

“Do you play Go Fish?” you asked, a playful challenge in your voice, as you held up the deck of cards.

Buck grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m not sure you want to challenge me to join you. I’m kind of a pro.”

“Oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow amusedly. “Care to test that theory?”

Chris’s face lit up even more at the idea, clearly excited at the prospect of Buck joining in. “Yeah, let’s play! Come on, Buck!”

Buck shot you a look, full of that infectious charm, and you found yourself laughing despite yourself. “Alright, deal me in,” he said, pulling up a chair.

The three of you spent the next fifteen minutes laughing and playing cards, with Chris dramatically declaring every match he made while Buck exaggeratedly groaned each time you won a round. There was a lightness in the room that made time slip away without you even noticing.

Before long, though, the game came to a close, and it was time for them to head out. As Buck helped Chris gather his things, you stood up, feeling a slight pang of disappointment that the moment was ending.

“Thanks again for staying late,” Buck said, his voice softer now. “I appreciate it,”

“Of course,” you replied. “Anytime.”

Buck hesitated for a second, then smiled. “Maybe we’ll see you around?”

There was something in the way he said it—hopeful, almost—as if he wasn’t just talking about school pickups. You found yourself nodding, a warmth spreading through you that had little to do with the classroom. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Maybe you will,”

As Buck and Chris walked out the door, Chris fumbling with his crutches to wave over his shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile.

The room felt a little quieter without them, but you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see Buck. Something told you he’d be around again, and maybe—maybe—that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 1)

I was so excited to hear this Takeover since it is only Sonic and Shadow talking to each other and answering question. It is one of those times where you get to see their dynamic without anyone else's input.

Since I feel like I could write an essay about these two, I decided to instead put all my thoughts into bullet points, this being Part 1 of my list:

First of, congratulations to Shadow for hosting the Takeover! Shadow sounds so proud of having managed to take over the channel and having gotten a whole year for himself. At least until Sonic reminds him that he is also there.

Why does Sonic's mind immediately jump to ''marriage'' when he hears the word proposal? Is he still bummed over the fact that he didn't think of proposing to Shadow?

I never thought I'd live the day to hear Shadow saying ''Sonic x Shadow''. I know it's referring to the game, but shippers are going to have a field day with this.

Shadow finally got his #AskShadow. Sonic is not happy to lose to him.

The best way for Sonic to annoy Shadow is to just be around him, with Sonic adding how he'd slowly take his time when they're racing and drag it out, much to Shadow's chagrin. God, I love how Sonic trolls Shadow.

Sonic doesn't know about Doom Wing... and he forgot about Black Doom! X3

I love how Sonic's idea in a body swap scenario with Shadow is to brag about himself, while Shadow's idea is to tell everyone how Sonic is stupid... and more importantly, telling that to Amy. Sonic sounds really flustered, and while I get the Sonamy joke... I'm pretty sure they threw that in because they knew the Sonadow fans will go wild over this.

There you have it folks! Shadow doesn't hate Tails, but he will beat him up if he stands in his way. I also love how Sonic immediately jumps to Tails' defense - big brother gotta protect his little brother.

Sonic loves the journey, while Shadow points out how you need to learn from the experience to not make the same mistakes. I love their philosophy, since they mesh so well together... and it also feels as if Sonic wants to go on a journey with Shadow.

I love the scenario of Sonic and Shadow babysitting Cream and them arguing over their methods (Sonic, the twelve scoop ice-cream cone scenario is really specific).

Did Sonic just invite Shadow on an ice-cream date? As Cream's babysitters, but nonetheless, it is a date. And he also knows what Shadow's favorite ice-cream flavour is.

Okay, start the counter for how many times Sonic attempts to convince Shadow to go out with him.

I love how Sonic knows how to challenge Shadow and Shadow falls for it despite his reservations, even if it's something silly like a thumb war. Sonic knows exactly how to get under his skin and Shadow just goes along with it, much to his chagrin. X3

Sonic, Shadow and Silver have a Big Brother, Little Brother relationship! Love how they're ready to help him at any point of time and how Shadow respects Silver.

So, Sonic forgot about Elise? To note Sonic 06 technically did happen, but the universe did get reset.

I adore that Shadow acts like he doesn't care whether he's Sonic's biggest rival, but the moment Sonic starts trolling him by placing him between Zavok and... Dodon Pa? (What?) - Shadow gets irritated. It's obvious that Shadow wants the recognition of being Sonic's main rival, and knows Sonic is messing with him.

Did Shadow just laugh at the Joe Mama joke?

Shadow correcting Sonic's Macarena bit is hilarious, especially since neither of them know the lyrics. Also, obligatory Macarena singing is obligatory.

I love how Shadow shares Omega's ''enthusiasm for blowing things up''. We saw him enjoying himself blowing up G.U.N. property alongside Omega and Rouge in Sonic X Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings, so I'm not surprised. Sonic then immediately figures he also needs to hang out more with Omega,... perhaps in hopes to get closer to Shadow?

Shadow pointing out how Tails is the reason why Sonic's always in trouble is not wrong. These two can be a disaster when together as siblings tend to do.

''Shadow, have you ever given Sonic a present on his birthday?'' ''No, my presence is more than enough.'' There are several things to discuss here:

Shadow is willing to buy Amy a present in The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, but couldn't bother get anything for Sonic, which is hilarious. Especially since we know that it was Rouge who convinced him to go to Sonic's birthday by promising him a rocket.

Shadow arrived at Sonic's birthday just after he was traumatized by watching Gerald and Maria return to their own timeline, knowing this was the last time he saw them again. I doubt getting a present for Sonic was on his mind at that time.

Shadow claims his presence is enough of a birthday present. I interpret this as him claiming that he is Sonic's birthday present and you can't stop me.

Sonic teasing Shadow about the Hot Honey concert is so hilarious... until Shadow reveals they're going on another concert, and Sonic's mood drops. Honestly, Sonic, if you want to go to a concert with Shadow, ask him out!

Sonic being so intrigued and even saying that he's jealous over Shadow smiling in Big's presence, and then suggests a fishing trip with all three of them. Not only does he want to see Shadow smile again, but he is still persistent about getting his date.

Shadow chooses to save Sonic from danger because he knows Sonic will get himself into trouble, so he needs keep an eye on him. This is completely out of Sonic Prime and I'm loving it! It really shows that Shadow cares about Sonic.

Sonic isn't too enthusiastic about going with Amy on shopping trips. Shadow, on the other hand, just buys what he needs, which is understandable... Sonic then immediately uses this as an opportunity to invite him on a shopping date, even saying how he'll make it fun. Shadow immediately accepts the moment Sonic turns it into a race.

They mention the matching outfits (possible reference to Sonic Speed Simulator)! Sonic believes they have similar tastes, Shadow calls it a coincidence and insists it means nothing, which Sonic doesn't buy at all.

''But if we do ever go to a party, you know I'm picking the outfits.'' Sonic is still desperately trying to get that date and Shadow is not budging. These two sound like a married couple.

I love how Shadow respects Sonic enough to refuse beating him in a swimming competition, even if he reasons that it's because Sonic would drown, so he wouldn't be able to see the look of the defeat on his face.

Sonic immediately mentions a ''plummeting to Earth contest'', which is just... woah! I didn't expect him to go that far. Shadow gets an UNO Reverse on him by teasing him about needing floaties. Go Shadow!

Sonic keeps his chest fur short to stay aerodynamic and run laps around Shadow. You guys do know that hedgehogs circle around each other in order to court?

Frontiers!Sonic voice is back! Shadow sounds baffled. X3

So, Classic Sonic is just chilling in the room. Shadow likes him because he's silent, though. I suppose Modern Sonic is taking notes... or not.

#Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 2)

#Sonic Cyber Revolution (Masterlist)

[alxtiny]

New hair? | Jung Wooyoung x reader

Synopsis: where your brother’s best friend ends up becoming something more

Pairing: jung wooyoung x san’s sister!reader, brother’s best friend au

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: none :)

Notes: Hah I’m on time today hehehehehehe, Happiest Birthday to our Wooyoungie :D

Main masterlist | Be a part of my taglist!

The apartment was unusually loud today, not that you minded. Ateez had just wrapped up their comeback promotions, and the guys were taking a much needed break. Your brother, San, decided to come stay with you for the duration since your place was conveniently close to the dorms and the company building yet far enough from their everyday chaos. San’s presence was always welcome, there was still a room reserved for your dear brother with several of his favourite things in it, but along with him usually came a headache named Wooyoung. Now it wasn't that you hated Wooyoung or anything, you just happened to like him a little too much.

Your feelings for him had been quietly brewing for six long years—since his trainee days when he practically lived at your house, sticking to San like glue. Back then, you were awkward, caught in your teen phase, and Wooyoung had always treated you with an equal amount of affection as he gave San. You never minded those random hugs he gave you or the way he made himself comfortable with his head resting on your lap on movie nights, until one day. After their first comeback, Wooyoung had started looking a little too good and you found your heart beating a little faster than it usually did. Of course you always assumed he thought of you as a little sister and never made a move, not wanting to lose what you already had.

San, being the annoyingly perceptive brother he was, already figured out your not-so-little crush on his best friend years ago when he caught you gushing over Wooyoung’s fancams. He never pressured you to confess, but he wasn’t subtle in his approval either.

Now, Wooyoung was here, lounging comfortably on your couch, and you had to tread very carefully around him, trying to make sure you wouldn’t make any awkward mistakes.

But it seems fate didn’t like it that way. It was a good day, you had an off from work and San was preoccupied since all the other boys had come over too and had taken over your living room, it was a ‘sleepover’ as San claimed it to be. It was also Wooyoung’s birthday, the boys having partied hard the day before, chose to relax today. You realised your apartment somehow always ended up being the hotspot for these sleepovers, even though it wasn’t all that big, but you enjoyed nonetheless, all the guys were super nice to you, even if they occasionally flirted with you. At those times, usually san or wooyoung would come to your rescue.

You were tasked with making a huge lot of ramen, while the guys were engaged in an intense round of whatever video game they were on now, they had ordered fried chicken and some other side dishes to go with it as well. You slowly stirred the ramen, the scent of the broth filling the kitchen, lost in your thoughts, “Need help?” San’s voice startled you as he appeared beside you with Yeosang.

“Perfect timing,” you replied, handing them trays of bowls. Together, the three of you distributed the nine bowls of ramen in the living room, joining the rest of the group as the fried chicken delivery arrived.

Your favourite movie was put on, Howlks Moving Castle, the boys were sprawled across your couch and floor, plates and bowls in hand. You found yourself nestled very comfortably between San and Wooyoung under a large, fluffy blanket. The cozy warmth from their bodies threatened to lull you to sleep.

Halfway through the movie, a yelp startled you.

“Ow, hot, hot!” Wooyoung exclaimed, jolting upright. He had spilled some of the soup from his ramen onto his shirt, the stain spreading rapidly across the light blue fabric.

“Careful!” you fussed, setting his bowl aside and helping him fan the hot liquid off his skin. The movie was paused as everyone shuffled around, but you were already pulling Wooyoung toward San’s room.

Inside San’s room, you rummaged through the closet for a clean shirt.

“You cut your hair? It looks different,” Wooyoung asked suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “I did. Is it… not good?”

“What? No way!” he said, sounding almost offended. “You look even more beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks warmed at the nickname. “Oh… thanks,” you murmured, tucking a strand behind your ear.

Wooyoung smirked, leaning casually against the doorway as you handed him a shirt. “Thanks,” he said. But before you could leave to give him privacy, he pulled his soiled shirt off, revealing his toned chest.

You froze, trying not to let your eyes wander, as your face grew hot. “Uh—I’ll just—”

“Why so shy?” he teased, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“I’m not shy!” you shot back, spinning around to face the wall.

He chuckled, and you felt his presence behind you. “Do I fluster you, sweetheart?” His voice dropped an octave, sending shivers down your spine.

You turned back, heart pounding as you found him standing closer than expected. His face was awfully close to yours, eyes gleaming with mischief and if you wanted you could kiss him, which is exactly what you did. You pecked his cheek lightly, making Wooyoung blink in surprise, and you took the opportunity to make a run for the door.

Unfortunately for you, he was faster.

Wooyoung caught your wrist, spinning you around and pinning you gently against the door. One arm rested beside your head while the other slowly settled on your waist.

“Running away after that?” he murmured, his gaze softening.

Your breathing hitched. “Woo—”

“Let me talk first,” he interrupted, his thumb rubbing against your hip. “You’ve plagued my thoughts for so long now. I see your pictures online, looking all pretty in those cute little outfits of yours, and I can’t help but think how much better they’d look if I were beside you, and god every single time you mentioned some boyfriend, it made me so mad, that why didn’t I have you for myself yet. I didn’t say anything because you’re Sannie’s little sister, but…” He paused, exhaling deeply, he lifted a lock of your hair. “Now you’re teasing me again, looking so tempting with your new hair. I can’t hold it in anymore.”

Your heart was racing, you gulped at his confession and decided to do something crazy.

You grabbed his collar and kissed him. You almost pulled back, before he responded, his lips pressing back much more intensely, his hand on you waist pulling you closer to him and your arms going around his neck, as his kissed you with fervour. His tongue teased your bottom lip before you were forced to part for air.

You pulled away, your foreheads resting together, both of you flushed and breathless.

“Happy Birthday to me, I guess,” he laughed, “You’re full of surprises, always know how to drive me insane” he kissed you again, “So, can I call you mine now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, unable to stop smiling.

Before either of you could say more, a knock sounded at the door.

San poked his head in, his eyes narrowing as he took in your flushed faces and disheveled appearances. “Are you two okay? You’ve been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Wooyoung answered quickly.

San scanned the room one more time before smirking. Slowly closing the door, he yelled back into the living room, “They’re totally together now!”

A chorus of cheers erupted from the rest of Ateez.

“About time!” Yunho hollered.

You and Wooyoung laughed, leaning into each other as you listened to the chaos outside. “They’ve known all along, haven’t they?” you asked.

“Probably,” Wooyoung replied with a fond smile. You just laughed, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist:

[kawoala]

I love ur work and profile and u seem so amazing, if u are taking request could u pls pls write for an ushijima x ice skater reader?

If not u can ignore

Have a good day/night <33

⁝ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI 𝜗𝜚 glorified hot potato 𝜗𝜚

ᰔ word count ; 645

ᰔ content warning ; veerery minor themes of “i’m so much better than other people” 、 low key love at first sight 、 cousin! oikawa 、 teasing said cousin! oikawa.

when you were a kid, you never pictured your life turning out like this.

going to university on a full-ride scholarship for ice skating? of course. you’d been skating your whole life, so it was no surprise when it had come in the mail. being one of the best skaters on the team? of course.

standing in the bleachers of your university, surrounded by your fellow classmates - who smell, by the way - as they cheer loudly for said university’s infamous volleyball team? absolutely not.

you don’t even like other sports, you’re not really sure how you let your friends convince you to come to a volleyball game of all things. the sport itself is boring, you think. they pass the ball around a couple times and if they drop it too many times, they lose. it’s a glorified hot potato.

even so, there’s this guy on the court that you just… can’t take your eyes off. he’s tall and he’s big and his facial expression says he’d rather be anywhere else - most of the time.

most of the time, his face is lax, void of any emotion except boredom. most of the time, his jaw is clenched, eyes slightly narrowed as the ball moves around the court.

but then he hits the ball. he hits the ball and his brows pinch together in concentration. his mouth stays shut, but his nose scrunches up as he puts all of his strength into hitting the ball.

you decide right then and there that you need to know who this man is. you turn to one of your friends, nudging her shoulder. when she looks over, smile on her face, you grab her shoulders and lightly shake her. “i need to know who number eleven is.” you point down to the court just as he serves the ball over the net, scoring a point. “oh my god, kiyo, look at him. just- please tell me. i- i’m losing my mind, i think.”

she stares at you for a moment, a look of bewilderment in her eyes. she’s used to you scoffing at other sports, you laughing at how hard other people have to try to be good at their sport. but this? this is… different and you know it.

“um,” she starts, eyes drifting to the court as well. “number eleven? that’s ushijima. he’s a… second year, i think? i heard he went to shiratorizawa in high school.”

“ushijima,” you repeat, nodding. “ushijima. ushijima.” your brows slowly furrow. “ushijima- where have i heard that name before?”

kiyo shrugs. “he was like, kind of famous. his school was top of the ranks, i think. don’t take my word for this, though, because i’m not actually sure for certain.”

you’re too busy thinking to even register what she’s said. you’re thinking and thinking and thinking until - oh.

you pull out your phone and, in the middle of the large, smelly, noisy crowd, you call your least favorite cousin. he picks up on the second ring.

“y/n?”

“oikawa!” you exclaim. you plug one of your ears and hunch down, trying to hear better. “hey- who was that kid that wanted you to come to his school and you spent your whole high school career trying to beat him?”

“what?”

“the guy!” you exasperate, rolling your eyes. “the guy who was really good. was his name ushijima?”

“…yeah. what about him? why are you asking about him?”

you pause, snicker, then ask, “how funny would it be if i brought him home for thanksgiving?”

“what?! y/n, absolutely not! i will never speak to you agai-”

you hang up the phone and stand up straight again, eyes focusing on the court once more. your future husband is back on the court, eyes slightly narrowed, jaw clenched - just how you like it.

looks like you’ve got a new assignment this semester.

[cillian-gets-me-wetter]

prologue- kiss it better (series)

warnings: implied smut (18+ only), mutual pining, sexual talk, cheating

disclaimer: i do not own people or teams mentioned in this story besides the original character(s). this is strictly for fictional purposes only.

a/n: did i get a little carried away with this? maybe. but did i enjoy writing it? absolutely

masterlist 🩰

word count: 951

erika and joe first met in 2018 when he transferred over to louisiana state from ohio state to have more opportunities to play football. he sat next to her in a lecture during english class, showing up a bit late after struggling to find his classes. as the school year progressed, they had become good friends, being supportive and encouraging of one another’s goals and aspirations. they still remained friends after they graduated from college and moved to pursue their different career paths, but whenever they had time to see each other, it was as if time didn’t exist. in 2022, a year into her relationship with nicholas, she felt like something was missing within it despite everything going great. she was in cincinnati, visiting joe and attending the bengals home game against the los angeles rams. 

september 2022

erika and joe sat on his couch as they were watching the hangover after his win earlier that night as they were catching each other up on their lives. he looked over and asked her, “so, how’s it going with you and nick?” she shrugged, taking a swig from her beer before answering, “i don’t know. it’s been okay, i guess.” he eyed her curiously, seeing the conflicted look on her face. “just okay?” she sighed, unsure to describe how she feels about her relationship. “i mean, it’s going great; don’t get me wrong. but i just feel like there’s something missing." he chuckled softly, “what? is the sex bad?” the question made her look away, telling him everything he needed to know. “damn.. that bad, huh?” 

erika rolled her eyes at what he said, not outright denying anything. “joey.. it’s not funny.” joe shook his head; the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. “i never said it was.” she sighed, “it’s not that it’s bad sex. it’s decent, but after, i just feel so.." she met his gaze; he listened intently as she tried to find the right words. he broke the brief silence, completing her sentence with one word that summed up what she was feeling: “unsatisfied.” she nodded, biting her bottom lip as a wave of guilt flowed through her. he scooted closer next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. his expression softened, pulling her close against his body. “i’m sorry, bunny. i didn’t mean to make you feel upset or uncomfortable.”

she shook her head; her heart skipped a beat whenever he called her that since he gave her the nickname in college. “it’s okay; what you said didn’t upset me. i feel so guilty for thinking that way, like i’m an awful person for viewing my own boyfriend in that kind of light.” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “hey, you aren’t a bad person for having that opinion. it’s how you feel; don’t downplay it. what makes you feel unsatisfied?” she gave him a small smile; he always knew how to make her feel better and at ease. she leaned into him more, resting her head against his shoulder. “like after we have sex, he always asks if i came, and of course, i say yes. but i actually didn’t.. or i question if i did or not.”

he feels her body warmth as she leaned against him, his heart beating out of his chest. “well, usually if you have to question it, it means you didn’t. maybe he just needs to get to know how your body works more, like what makes you tick, rather than focusing on just his own pleasure.” she let out a short laugh; she wasn’t making fun of his response, but having something like that was out of her element. “yeah, i’ve never experienced that.” he looked at her in curiosity once more, wondering what she was implying. “what do you mean?” she shrugged, a bit self-conscious and embarrassed when she answered his question. “i’ve never had a guy make me cum before.” his eyes widened slightly in disbelief, not expecting that to be her answer. “oh shit. are you serious?”

she looked away, her face flushed with embarrassment that she’s having this conversation with her best friend. “yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing.” he shrugged, and while he understood why she was embarrassed by it, he couldn’t help but want to help her out. “i get it. but if i’m being honest, i don’t find it embarrassing.” she met his gaze again, feeling a sense of relief. “you don’t? or are you saying that to make me feel better?” his hand moved down her body, giving her hip a gentle squeeze. “i really don’t. in fact, your little confession makes me want to help you out.” her breath hitched in her throat when she felt his hand squeeze her hip, her hands falling into place on his chest. “you want to help me? how?”

his hand moved up to her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. “want me to show you?” she felt chills run down her spine after he asked, nodding wordlessly. he leaned in, closing his eyes and capturing her lips in a slow, exploratory kiss. immediately kissing him back, her fingers ran through his hair, parting her lips for him. he slipped his tongue into her mouth, as she let his tongue overpower hers. he guided her back onto the couch and parted her legs to feel more comfortable against her body, breaking the kiss. “is this okay?” she nodded, her hands trailing down his chest. “yes, joe.. i’ve wanted you for so long.” he groaned at her confession, “fuck, bunny.. i’ve wanted you too.” he kissed her again, but this time it was urgent and heated as erika allowed herself to get lost into the pleasure.

a/n: part 1 is still in the works! but i definitely had too much fun writing out this little introduction for y’all :)

[midnight-bay-if]

Ro's reaction to MC who teasingly leans in to give them a kiss on the lips.... only to kiss them on the cheek on purpose *cough* on accident

S: They wait readily for the moment your lips press against their own, leaning forward in anticipation, only for you to artfully dodge their advance and kiss their cheek instead. Not wasting a moment, S reaches up to grasp your chin in their hand, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to restrain should you wish to break free.

"This will simply not do,” they mutter, leaning close enough to count the shades of colour in your eyes. “Now you have tantalised me, and I can be demanding when lured. Do not leave me wanting, darling."

Rain: They are smiling. A smile that quickly falls upon the location of your lips changing direction. They do not let you move far. Before you have even fully basked in their reaction, they are chasing you with their lips. You laugh, dodge, laugh again, and ultimately surrender to Rain's attack, letting them press a soft kiss to your lips.

"There," they whisper, pulling back barely a hair's breadth, "I used to be to afraid of the chase, MC, but no more."

Taj: They feel stupid for having waited for it. You leaned forward as usual; nothing about your body language suggested mischief, but it should have. The quick kiss on the cheek should have been sweet, but it wasn't enough. They want more. They swipe out a hand, fingers curling over the delicate line of your wrist to hold you in place. They bring your hand up against their chest, resting it against their beating heart.

"I've never enjoyed being teased, Koel," they mumble, ears twitching.

"Liar."

N: It's a game they play well. The kiss on the cheek does not come as a surprise, and N is already planning their next move. They smile languidly, their cheek resting on their hand, waiting for you to move again. And you do. You lean forward closer, readying yourself to relent to their waiting lips. They don't give you a chance. They lean to the side, pulling back just out of reach. Your sigh of frustration is music to their ears, and they laugh.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I could not resist..." This time, they initiate the advance, cupping your face and neck to keep you steady. "Allow me the chance to apologise properly."

Umbra: At first, they don't realise you are being playful. They see you tug on their sleeve, gesturing for them to lean forward slightly, so they do. They think you mean to tell them something, something for their ears alone. Instead, you gently kiss their cheek and pull back with a cheeky grin. But Umbra is still there. Still in the moment of your lips pressing against the cold expanse of skin.

They reach up, hands trembling, as they press the tips of their fingers against the heat of the spot your lips just were. "What did I do to earn that?”

[bullet-prooflove]

three words prompt game

young LJ Gibbs + ball (the dance event, not the sports ball), knuckles, punch

<3

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

Safe - You and Gibbs work through your grief in different ways.

Check In - Gibbs checks in with you after the night before.

Wait It Out - You and Gibbs wait out a threat to your saftey.

Right Here - You come home to find Gibbs waiting for you on your doorstep.

You’re procrastinating, Gibbs realises that after he watches you straighten your desk for the third time in as many minutes. He clears his throat to remind you of his presence and you sigh as you look up at him.

You look breathtaking tonight, your hair falling across your carefully made up features in loose waves, silver earrings dangling from your lobes. You’re wearing an off the shoulder black ballgown that’s etched into a sweetheart neckline, showing off your decolletage and a pretty blue necklace that used to belong to your sister.

“I don’t want to go.” You tell him, putting a hand on your hip before gesturing at the dress. “I have enough of a hard time getting these assholes to take me seriously without turning up dressed like this.”

You’re talking about the Veterans Ball that Wheeler has roped you into, the one that his entire unit is attending as well as everyone else in the facility. He won’t pretend to understand how hard it is for you, walking the line you do. He’d already heard some of the comments in the locker room as he was getting changed into his own suit, they’re taking bets on whose going to ‘break the ice’ tonight. It had made him want to punch something hearing you talked about that way, his knuckles turning white as his fingernails dug into his palm so he didn’t beat the shit out of the men that want to fuck you.

“Ok then.” He says as he leans against the doorframe. “Let’s do something else instead.”

“Like what?” You ask him and he can tell you’re warming to the possibility of not having to run the gauntlet with those sons of bitches.

“We’re all dressed up.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “Tell me, where is the one place in San Diego you’ve always wanted to go but have always put off because it’s too expensive or too classy.”

“Benito’s.” You say immediately as you lean back against your desk, a smile ghosting across your lips. “It’s this beautiful little Italian place down by the water. Mike and Violet went for her birthday one year and she brought back this doggie bag of pasta. It was phenomenal Gibbs, like the best thing I had ever tasted.”

The way your eyes light up when you talk about that place… It makes something blossom in Gibb’s chest.

“Go get your things.” He tells you, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile. “I’ll call them up and see if they have reservation.”

Love Gibbs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[call-sign-jinx]

Theodore Nott X Reader - What of it?

summary - you and theo were best friends. but when you both got accepted into hogwarts but sorted into different house. you made a promise to each other to stay together. after theo made new friends he broke his promise. now you and theo compete against each in quidditch and academically. until he badly hurts you in a match. will he change his ways? or stay the same person he now is?

warnings - the war did not happen, arguing, mentions of injury, mentions of hurting, slight hufflepuff hate, fluff

Main Masterlist Theodore Nott Masterlist

a/n - this is based off of this ask, hope y'all enjoy becos i LUV this idea. ta ta my lovelies! xx

theodore nott x fem!reader

Nott and I had a history. We used to be best friends. Our houses were very close to each other growing up. And we were both accepted into Hogwarts when we were 11. He had run to my house and banged on the door 'til somebody answered to see if I had gotten a letter as well. We were so excited to go to school together. We hoped, prayed and begged that the universe would put us into the same house as soon as we were in the castle.

When Nott was placed in Slytherin and I was placed in Ravenclaw, we both promised each other we'd still hang out together every chance we could.

We both kept our promise. Until he became close friends with Malfoy. That's when the time he'd spend with me began to fade into less and less amounts. Until we never saw each other outside of lesson.

Now, I'm glad he didn't keep his promise. He's turned into a right dickhead ever since he became friends with Malfoy. We're in 7th year now, he hangs out with Malfoy and his lot. And I'm friends with the Weasley twins, Luna Lovegood and Delilah Halifax from my Quidditch team, we also share a room along with Luna. Although I only have 4 friends, I'm fine with it. I like when my circle is small.

It's lunchtime in the Great Hall and all of us are sat together. Although we're only supposed to sit at our House tables, the twins sit with me, Luna and Delilah at the Ravenclaw table. Delilah couldn't have lunch with us today, she decided to get some extra practice before the game later today.

"So Y/N, you ready to get beat at our Quidditch match on Friday?" I shake my head and laugh at Fred's cocky behaviour.

"That's if we beat Slytherin today first. So you should be the ones getting ready to lose cause Slytherin is an easy obstacle to get over." Fred and George mock fear and huddle together. That's until they both had disgusted looks on their faces.

I turned to see who they were giving dirty looks to, and it was perfectly understandable. It was Nott, Malfoy and Zabini. Nott and Malfoy had disgusted looks on their faces while Zabini didn't show any emotion at all. Sometimes I wondered if he was a robot.

"You seriously think you can beat us? We're ten times better than you even if we had only three people on our team." Malfoy laughs at us, Nott along with him. God, they were so annoying.

"That's rich seeing as you got beaten by Hufflepuff last month, and not to be rude to them but we know how bad they are." Malfoy and Nott stopped laughing. Obviously struck a nerve there.

"They cheated, of course they were going to beat us if they were cheating." Hufflepuff did not cheat baring in mind. Nott looked me up and down with utter distaste all over his face. I put my middle finger up at him and turned back to Fred and George.

"It doesn't matter who wins, it's just a game." Luna says to the Slytherin boys, trying to diffuse the situation. They look at her and burst out laughing.

"Oh pipe down Loony Lovegood, go chase some fargles or whatever you call them." Nott's words make Luna look down in embarrassment.

I stand up from the bench and get toe to toe with Nott. I was pissed. I'm fine him picking on me but when he picks on Luna. That's when I get pissed off.

"You better walk away Nott, or I swear to God." I looked at him with pure hate. My nostrils were flared, jaw and fists clenched, my back rigid, shoulders pulled back. He smirked then scoffed at me. What a prick.

"Come on, wasting our time on freaks like them." And with that, they turned away from us and walked to their table. I sat back down with Luna and the twins, and fake gagged.

"Cannot believe I used to be mates with him." The twins laughed while Luna smiled and then continued reading The Quibble.

"I can't either, you're the complete opposite of him. He's a massive dickhead, and you're not." I laughed at George's statement. But when I actually thought about it. I always wondered how and why he became like this. I mean, a lot can happen in 7 years but he changed drastically in the first year and has stayed the same since.

-------------------------------------------------------

It was 5 minutes before the match started between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I was quite nervous, I really wanted to win this game. I had my broom in hand and was practicing my breathing techniques to calm me down. I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was Delilah, one of my closest friends on the Quidditch team.

"You're going to be amazing Y/N, don't freak out. You're literally one of our best players." I gave Delilah a tight lipped smile and that's when I heard the music, signaling for us all to come out and onto the pitch.

Ravenclaw flew up first and we all took positions, I was a beater. Then Slytherin followed and did the same, Nott was a beater as well. I just knew he'll try to pull the little trick he did our last match against each other.

Last match, he got one of the Slytherin girls to put a jinx on my broom, causing my broom to try and throw me off of it, but I had a firm grip and luckily I didn't go flying.

The whistle blew, starting the game. I still couldn't get control of my breathing, I don't know what was wrong with me today. I focused as much as I could.

The game was going quite well for us, the score was 50-30 to Ravenclaw. To put it simply we were winning. No one on our team had gotten hit by a bludger, pushed off their broomstick or anything like that. Yet.

I saw a bludger going straight towards Delilah so I flew over to her as fast as I could and successfully hit it in a different direction. She nodded her head at me with a smile but the smile soon turned to fear.

"Y/N! Look-" Before she could finish her sentence I was hit in the head very hard with something and was knocked clean out.

--------------------------------------

I wake up in the medical wing, I had no idea how I got here and looked around to see if I could ask anyone what happened. Until I saw the twins, practically running to my bed.

"Blimey Y/N we thought you had died. Took a right hit didn't you?" Fred said, with that cheeky smile he and George always have on their faces.

"Did Ravenclaw win?" Was the first thing I said. God I sound like a right weirdo only caring about a game. Fred and George laughed.

"Jesus Y/N, that's the first thing you think about when you wake up?" I gave George a look and Fred elbowed him slightly while trying to hold back a grin.

"But yes, you did win. And Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor as well." I was confused. It's past Friday? How long have I been out for?

"Wait... What even happened? And how long have I been out?" I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head and realised my arm was in a sling.

"Nott hit a bludger to the back of your head. You were out in seconds. Then you went falling and falling and then you hit the ground and you'd be able to hear the sound it made from Luna's house." George explained to me, my eyes widened. What the fuck? I get that Nott and I don't like each other but that is low, even for him.

"And you were out for about 2 weeks. You've never been hurt that long it was like a bloody coma." Fred piped up. He then paused, as if he wanted to say something.

"What? Tell me." George and Fred looked to each other, silently asking each other if they should tell me.

"Nott visited you every day after the match." They both answered in unison. I didn't know how to react. Why would he visit me?

"Did you ever ask him why?" They both shook their head 'no' in unison.

"Didn't want to get a bludger to the head like you did Trouble." Fred's words made me giggle. But the question always stuck in the back of my head for the rest of the day.

Why?

------------------------------------------

It's been around three days since I woke up from my 'mini coma,' as the twins call it. Madame Pomfrey told me that I shouldn't go to Quidditch practice or move my arm until the potion she gave me wears off. Delilah checked up on me whenever she could though, she was very kind.

Luna has been by my side ever since I was allowed to go back to attending my lessons, said she "wanted to protect me." Bless her soul.

She was walking me to my potions lesson, which was second period, because she had a free period and had nothing else to do. While I was walking and checking my bag for everything I needed, she was skipping alongside me looking at the walls and everything around her. She was in her own little world.

When we finally got to the room I had to be in, dread filled my whole entire body. Snape had changed the seating plan and had placed me next to Nott. How wonderful.

I said bye to Luna and walked into the room, Nott was already there. And he was staring at me. God I really hope he doesn't take the piss cause after what he did I won't care that he visited me.

I sat down in my seat next to Nott and got my books and quill out. There was such an uncomfortable silence between us but I did not want to talk to him at all.

Snape began teaching his lesson like usual, until he said that we were making a potion. In the pairs we were placed in. Meaning I was paired with Nott. Could my day get any fucking worse?

We had to make a Wit-Sharpening potion. This is probably what I missed cause what the fuck even is that? And that is when I realised we had to talk to each other.

"You know what to do?" Nott finally piped up. Damn, didn't think he'd actually talk to me unless it was something rude.

"Not at all if I'm being honest." Nott nodded in response. I just stayed sat in my seat and let him make the potion, only passing him things if they were too far out of his reach.

The lesson went by quickly, thank God. And it was also break, so I'd be meeting the twins, Luna and Delilah in our usual spot at the courtyard.

When I reached the courtyard, all of them were already there and my usual seat on the bench was still vacant. Buzzing.

"Hey there girly." Delilah greeted me as she walked up to me and gave me a hug. We both pulled away at the same time.

"First day back going good?" My face answered her question. I looked exhausted and annoyed at the same time.

"Snape changed the seating plan so I have to sit next to the biggest dickhead I've ever had the displeasure of meeting." She immediately knew who it was and let out a slight chuckle.

We both then headed over to Luna and the twins and enjoyed our break. The twins were playing pranks on people, me and Delilah were talking about anything and everything, and Luna was reading an unnamed book. This is how we liked it. Although we were focused on different things, it was still spending time together.

Break then ended so we all had to go to our lessons. Luna and George had DAD, Delilah had Transfiguration, and me and Fred had a free period, luckily.

On our walk back to the courtyard, something popped into my head. And my first thought was to ask Fred.

"Why do you think Nott visited me? Do you think it's just because he felt bad?" Fred raised a brow at me, confused as to why I would even care.

"If you want to find that out, Trouble, you'll have to ask him for that. I groaned. I just wanted to find out without talking to him.

"Why do you want to know anyway? Think he likes you?" Fred gasped and put his hands on his mouth, when he finally took them off his mouth he asked, "Or do you like him?" I slapped Fred on the shoulder and gave him a dirty look. Of course I didn't like him, did I? All I think about is him, but only because he's a prick and all he does is be a dickhead towards me. That's what I told myself anyway.

"I don't know to be honest, it's just... In the past few years, he hasn't cared about a single thing I do. And now I find out he visited me every day while I was in the hospital wing." Fred nodded in understanding and we left it at that.

We finally made it back to the courtyard and sat down on our bench. But, as soon as me and Fred settled down in the courtyard after walking everyone to their lessons, Fred got called to Professor McGonagall's office. Great, he's going to be forever if it's McGonagall. Now I have to spend 2 hours on my own.

I thought I'd just walk around the castle and try and find a new place I haven't been to yet, but I've been everywhere we possibly could go when I used to skip lessons with the twins.

When I turned round a corner, I saw Nott, just leaning against a wall and smoking a cigarette. Gross. That's when Fred's words played back in my head. "You'll have to ask him for that." Maybe I should. Before I could even make a decision my feet were already walking me over to him.

He saw me, put out his cigarette, put his hands in his pockets then turned his body to face me fully.

"What? Want to argue with me bout some-" I cut him off before he could even say something snarky, which earned an annoyed look from him.

"Why did you visit me in the hospital wing?" His face went a shade lighter. He thought no one except Madame Pomfrey had seen him and he had asked her to keep it between them. Then he thought. The twins.

"What of it? It's a need to know basis anyway Y/L/N." With that he turned around and began to walk away. No. Now that I'm here, doing this, he is not walking away until I get an answer. I began to walk at a fast pace to keep up with him.

"Well I need to know, so tell me." It was hard trying to keep up with him, he had such big fucking strides it was hard to keep up.

"No. You don't." It went back and forth like this for around 3 minutes until I heard him groan and was then pushed into an empty classroom. He had locked the door when I had realised we were in a classroom and I was leaning against a desk.

"Why do you want to know so badly? This is the most you've talked to me in years and it's about me visiting you in the hospital wing?" I subconsciously scoffed. Why the fuck was he acting like I had been the cause for the end of our friendship?

"Well I'd have talked to you more if you had let me. But no, Theodore Nott is way too fucking good for me to speak to. You are the reason we stopped talking in 1st year. I tried and tried to keep our friendship, but you were too busy becoming bum buddies with fucking Malfoy. So just answer my fucking question so I can leave." Nott rolled his eyes at me, acting as if I had done something wrong.

"We are not bum buddies." I scoffed at him and raised a brow. I stepped away from the desk and took a step closer to him.

"That's all you got from what I said? God you really have fucking changed. Dickhead." Nott began to get pissed off. His eyebrows lowered and nostrils flared.

"Now just fucking tell me why you visited me." I kept repeating it to piss him off. He ran his hand over his face and looked like he was about to lose it.

"Fine!" His voice boomed throughout the classroom. I took a step back, my eyes wide. I had never heard him shout before.

"You want to know why I visited you? Because I care about you, more than you can imagine and I felt so fucking bad for hitting you with that bludger. I didn't even mean to! And before you ask how come I only just cared now I haven't stopped caring about you. Even when we weren't friends. And it's because I love you! I have ever since start of 1st year." What the fuck? My eyes widened even more and my jaw dropped. Well that was a bombshell and a half.

"I thought we hated each other. And why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Nott laughed, but had a sad look on his face. He took a few steps towards me, we were now toe to toe.

"Because I'd rather you hate me and talk to me, than for you to not talk to me or acknowledge me at all." I felt horrible. All these years. He hadn't hated me, but he had loved me instead. My heart shattered, I had never felt so horrible more than I do right now in my entire life.

"Oh Theo..." I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. I didn't know what else to do. He didn't reciprocate for a few seconds but then I felt him slowly start to hug me back. We stood like that for God knows how long.

We then both pulled away and just looked at each other. I had forgotten how beautiful he actually was. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue-grey. His hair fell perfectly on his face. His jawline had looked like it was carved by angels. He grew up to be bloody gorgeous.

"I'm sorry... Y/N..." Never in my whole entire life had I heard Theodore Nott apologise. Not once. And now the first time I hear it, it's to me.

"I wish you had told me sooner Theo..." My hands move from his neck to the sides of his face. He gave me a small smile and a slight chuckle.

"How could I have told you? I fucked it up for myself. Especially when I said all those things to your friends..." I rolled my eyes, he raised a brow at me in confusion.

"If you just apologise, and actually mean it, then I'm sure they'll forgive you. They don't hold grudges once someone has apologised and realised what they've done." Theo sighed with relief. He looked to the side, as if he was thinking proper hard.

"What?" His eyes come back straight to mine, his face looks like he wants to say something but doesn't know if he should or not.

"So what are we then?" The question took me aback. I didn't know how to answer that.

"Well... I don't know..." I paused, trying to make a plan in my head. "If anything can we just take it slow? Need to wrap my mind around all this." We both giggled. We both looked up to each other and just stared.

I felt myself moving closer to him, and I could see him doing the same. We both paused until our lips were centimetres apart.

"Fuck taking things slow." And with that our lips crashed together. His hands took place on my waist and he squeezed it. My hands were still on his face so I tried to pull him impossibly closer than he already was. My arm hurt slightly, even though Madame Pomfrey told me not to move it I ignored it anyway. The kiss was passionate, but soft at the same time. I think Theo couldn't decide whether to be gentle or not. We both pulled away for air, I opened my eyes and couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry Y/N/N, I mean it. I truly am." I hadn't heard that nickname in years. Only Theo used to call me that. It was reserved only for him, I told everyone else who used it the same.

"It's okay Theo, I was just as bad as you." We both laughed and then hugged each other.

Did not think my first day back would go like this.

[redstringraven]

Fika

characters: don, klunk, leo, mikey and raph rating: g content warnings: n/a word count: 4288 relevant tags: sick fic, sick leo, post-episode: good genes

(n.) a moment to slow down and appreciate the good things in life a leo sick-fic, requested by @sakuradiva for @tmnt4p !

[ read on ao3 ]

You may as well have called the first sneeze an alarm bell. The instant it echoed through the reservoir station, each and every one of them in range perked up, heads swiveling like a bunch of prairie dogs.

Raph seeks out Don first. He scans the open first-level of the reservoir station until he catches Don’s eye--a second after Mikey does. Don glances between them, his expression at first wide. Then his lips curl downward, and he huffs. “—that wasn’t me.”

There's no attempt to hide the irritation in his tone (and Raph couldn’t blame him); a week or two of one helicopter sibling is annoying enough. Don had three. Plus Master Splinter. Plus April and Casey. Plus Leatherhead. Seven people in a semi-constant state of worry, hovering, asking questions, growing tense with anything that could be a small sign of 'relapse'. It had to get smothering at some point. And even Don had a limit to his so-called infinite patience.

“—Oh!” Mikey says. He pauses, his eyes darting from Don, to Raph, and back again--clearly scrambling to deflect from what Don had drawn attention to. “—Well. It wasn’t ME. My sneezes are a lot more… uuuuh…”

“Needy?” Raph offers.

“Yeah!” A beat. Mikey's eyes widen, then he shoots a squint at Raph. “—Hey, wait.”

“Sorry.” Leo moves out of the kitchen, mug in hand, having lowered the heel of his palm from his beak. “I, uh. I think I might’ve stirred up some dust while I was looking for the chamomile.”

Mikey relaxes, likely happy to accept this answer and move on, but Raph’s brow arcs. “Thought you’n Mikey gave the cabinets a good wipe-down earlier this week.”

“We did,” Leo says. He shrugs. “Guess… some of it must still be in the air. I dunno.”

...lying, Raph thinks, though he’s careful to keep the suspicion from reaching his eyes. He shifts his attention to Mikey just in time to catch the tell-tale signs of worry: a sudden stillness, like a deer in headlights, and the slightest strain around the eyes. It’s gone as soon as it arrives, and Mikey replaces any sign of it with an impish grin.

“Looks like someone was slacking on cleaning duty,” he jabs, knuckles propped on his hips. He tilts his weight forward and tuts his tongue. “For shame, Bronardo.”

Leo sends Mikey a passive smirk. He huffs and starts up the steps toward his room. His free hand finds the stair-rail and stays there. Raph locks onto it. He can't help but notice Leo's not resting his palm on the metal; he's holding it.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes with an idea of what we need to knock out today,” Leo says. There's a slight wilt in his posture—and now that Raph thinks about it, he realizes Leo's feet drag just enough to make his usual silent steps borderline audible. Raph shifts his weight and fixes his jaw, forcing himself to hold his tongue. Leo looks back over his shoulder after reaching the threshold of his room and continues, “Donnie, I’d appreciate it if you sat it out another day.”

Don sighs, but he waves a hand lazily over his head. “Heard loud and clear, boss.”

Leo’s door shuts, and silence settles back over the station. Raph remains by the weapons rack, and Don keeps his attention on the blueprints he has spread across the table he'd claimed as his temporary workbench. Only Mikey moves, plucking at one of his wrist bands, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the subtle rise in tension.

“...--you think I can squeeze in just enough Resident Evil 4 that I can get far away from a save point, and he’ll have to wait until I reach the next one to turn off the game?” Mikey asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer; instead, he flashes Raph a wide grin and bolts for the couch with a cackle. The televisions flash and hum to life, and Raph lets out a blend of a sigh and a growl. His eyes shift to Don.

Don’s already looking at him. Even with the faint purple stains under his eyes, the mild sag of his skin, there’s a sharpness in his stare. Raph recognizes it. He knows they harbor the same concern.

“Donnie?”

“Yeah, Mikey?”

Mikey huffs as he enters Don’s room, scratching at his cheek.

“Have you seen Klunk? He was snoozing on me like usual this morning, but… I kinda didn’t want to get up and give him his breakfast just yet." A terrible betrayal, if he were being honest. But he'd really just wanted five more minutes (which turned to ten, to fifteen, to twenty), and Klunk grew bored of swatting his face. Totally lost track of time after that. Mikey frowns, sending another short glance over his shoulder to eye the station. "He must’ve gotten cranky and left, but he wasn’t in the kitchen.”

“No,” Don says. He rotates a bit more in his chair to face Mikey and sets his pen aside. His jaw tightens, shivers as he points toward the door (an attempt to redirect attention as he stifles a yawn). “But--uh. I know he’s really fond of that one spot by the water?”

Mikey shakes his head. “Checked. Nada.”

“Oh…” Don’s brow furrows. “Well… --have you asked Leo? He might’ve seen where Klunk ran off to; he's been up a while.”

“Good idea. Thanks, Donnie!”

Don grunts a sound in place of a “you’re welcome”, and Mikey jogs back into the heart of their new lair.

There is, of course, a risk he ran entering Leo’s room: he’d narrowly managed to wiggle his way out of work yesterday, and he doubted he’d get similar results today. Leo may not be… grumpy anymore, but he was still Leo. A bit of a stickler—a: wet blanket, one might venture. You could only keep up a single ruse with him for so long.

Leo's door is open when he reaches it (a welcome sight, considering how often it’d been closed in the months before), and Mikey allows himself to cross inside. The space is rather bare--with little left to salvage from the second lair and a mutant outbreak to clean up, they found themselves back at square one in terms of decor. But Leo still found a way to make the few things he had feel clean and in order. Mikey could feel almost a rhythm in the way he'd stacked books on the floor, where he placed candles, and where Leo chose to sit when he meditated. He’s also quick to spot the ball of orange fur settled into Leo’s lap.

“Hey, Leo!” Mikey chirps, careful to keep his voice just low enough so as not to startle either of them. He waits a second for one of Leo’s eyes to open before continuing, “mind if I steal Klunk off ya?”

Leo smiles. But it’s… a tired? smile? Mikey can’t remember the last time Leo looked tired in the morning (y’know; like a normal person).

“I’m surprised you didn’t come get him sooner,” Leo mutters. He closes his eye again. “Sure.”

“Thanks!”

Mikey takes a wide step into the room and crouches. He digs around in his belt, locating one of Klunk's favorite snack-tubes.

“Oh Kah-looooonkkkk,” he says, putting on his best sing-song-I-totally-got-treats-for-you-love-me-please voice, “you want some tube~?”

Klunk lifts and tilts his head. Rather than get to his feet and trot to Mikey’s side, he shifts his weight, tucking his legs securely under his body. Mikey blinks.

That's weird. Klunk never turns down an offer for tube.

Even Klunk seems to acknowledge this; his tail twitches irritably, and his ears flatten out. It's like he wants to get up but…

“...hey, Leo?” Mikey props his elbows on his knees, frowning. “Has Klunk been with ya like this all morning?”

Leo’s shoulders lift in a half-shrug. “Guess so.”

“Huh.” Mikey pouts. Klunk hated a late breakfast. There hadn’t been scraps in his bowl, so no one had fed him yet. Why isn't he screaming for food? ...he's definitely still sending me dirty looks.

Mikey drums his hands on his inner knees. He opens his mouth—another question forming on his tongue—but snaps it closed when Leo suddenly sniffs. It's a wet, strained sound, and his posture rolls forward a little. Almost like he’d just gotten dizzy, or the breath had taken more effort than it should've. Come to think of it, it... did look like Leo was breathing through his mouth more than his nose. His lips were parted slightly. Mikey squints—glances from Klunk to Leo—and straightens up. “...your, uh... nose still bugging ya, bro?”

“A little.”

“...iiiis that all that’s bugging ya?”

Leo frowns, but he keeps his eyes closed. His brow wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Mikey says, “iiiit’s just… y’look kind of tired? And… Klunk super doesn’t wanna leave your lap. Which is weird! Because he hasn't had breakfast! And I offered him a tube! He ALWAYS wants tube.”

Leo opens his eyes and frowns as he looks at Mikey. Mikey shifts his weight and wrings his wrists in his lap. Leo didn’t have that needling look in his eyes like he had a few months ago, but… guess he’d started expecting a half-hearted glare and a growl.

Leo must have realized this, too. He winces, and his features weaken.

“Mikey, I’m okay,” he says. Mikey's lips twitch into a weak smile, but it must not have looked convincing. Leo sighs, "really, I’m just… Maybe I've just got a cold.”

“—a cold?” Mikey echoes, all at once alert. His throat tightens. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows it's irrational, but he doesn't care. He searches Leo’s limbs—any visible section of skin. But nothing looks open, or irritated or… mutated. They'd gotten separated in Bishop's lab for a while after Don got loose. Leo hadn't said anything about encountering other feral mutants, but...

Mikey rolls his lips together, eyes snapping up to meet Leo’s. “You… didn’t get, y’know. Stung. Or anything and didn’t tell us, did you?”

Leo’s expression drops. “What? --no, Mikey. Why would you—”

“—I should get Donnie,” Mikey interrupts, springing to his feet. “Just in case!”

“Mikey, I didn’t—”

“—I’ll be right back!" He jabs a finger at Leo and shakes his head. "Don’t even think about going anywhere! Klunk's loafing on you for your own protection!! DON'T DISRESPECT HIM!”

And he bolts before Leo has the chance to respond.

Don hadn't been the only one tailing Mikey back to Leo's room. Raph followed close at their heels, but he took to leaning on the corner wall rather than hover at Leo's side. Something Leo, admittedly, found himself grateful for.

Quick to busy himself as always, Don took to checking Leo for scratches, bites, stings--any possibility Mikey listed off, thought about or began to fuss over. Klunk, his duty now fulfilled, had grown tired of Don's close proximity, and he swiftly sprang from Leo's lap, trotting to headbutt and rub against Mikey's heels instead. He still circles them now, a soft, steady purr vibrating in his chest. Leo wonders if all cats are like this: aware and attentive of who needs their comfort, and so eager to provide. Or if it's something unique to Klunk... like the little animal knew Mikey had given him a better life, here, and he was in their debt. 

He almost snorts at himself. Probably silly to think cats thought in transactional ways... and something he still needs to work on, himself.

“You’re SURE he's not sick?” Mikey asks suddenly. He fidgets with his mask-tails, unable to stop himself from glancing in Don’s direction. “Like..." he winces, but hints anyway, "sick-sick?”

Don huffs, keeps his eyes down.

Leo frowns, and he shakes his head. “I didn't get stung or bit by anything, Mikey. I promise."

Unless we’re counting that mutant the dragons had set loose. There's a brief second where the thought sends a wave of alarm through his chest, but it's quick to settle. That happened months before the mutagen outbreak in the city. Surely, if it was a similar kind of illness, it would have made itself known by now. He'd been bitten long before Don had been stung, and Don's symptoms began surfacing in the following weeks. His brothers must be thinking something similar; Mikey continues to send looks in Don's direction, and Raph remains oddly quiet. The silence starts to feel heavy, and Leo winces. “Sorry, Donnie.”

“—don’t,” Don hastens, frowning at him. “Really.”

"So," Mikey starts, "he's not sick-sick? He's just... siiiiick-sick?"

Don sends him a dull stare. "You can just say 'infected', Mikey."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. But, no. I don't think he is." Don glances at Leo and shrugs. "There aren't any 'entry points', like he said. And I doubt he ate anything at Bishop's."

Leo grunts and wrinkles his nose. Mikey shifts his weight, unsatisfied. "What... --what about that thing we stole from Karai? --he's the one who touched it first. Do you think it cursed him?"

"Mikey--"

"--don't act like it's not possible, Don!" Mikey interrupts, clenching his fists at his sides. "We've time traveled! Space traveled! There's a whole city under our feet right now! --And--what about that... that big, red alien-monster thing that almost got Angel's bro?! --That old guy--he was totally cursed and stuff!! What if--"

“--it ain’t that deep,” Raph grumbles, his voice low but sharp enough to cut Mikey off. He pushes off the wall, propping his hands on his hips. “I bet it’s ‘cuz this bozo got back from Japan and hit the ground runnin’. Ain't stopped since.”

Leo squints, and Raph holds up a hand, 'counting' off his fingers as he continues, “I doubt ya slept on the boat trip over. Y’came lookin’ for each of us—got us all back in one place. Fought Karai. Got us back on our feet, the station up 'n runnin'. The first few mutants start showin’ their ugly heads. We get sent back to the jurassic period—”

“—cretaceous,” Don mutters, and Raph scoffs.

“Whatever! --Look, my POINT is, y’ain’t stopped movin’ once. You probably went and wore yourself out! Even more than usual!”

“You were kinda training like crazy for a while,” Mikey adds, rubbing his neck. “Like. A lot a lot. All the time. I guess maybe you chilled while you were in Japan, but... also not really.”

“Raph… has a point, Leo,” Don says. He looks to Leo and shrugs. “April’s talked about this sort of thing before. Like, when she was in college? She said during the holiday breaks, she’d come home and not have anything to worry about, and it was like her whole body released a ton of tension all at once. She’d have a horrible stomach ache for that first day home. Maybe… this is your version of that.”

“This is the quietest it’s been since…” Raph pauses, growls, and shakes his head. “It’s the quietest it’s been in a good, long while.”

Leo frowns. He can't think of any kind of argument. Or, at least, all the arguments that were coming to mind wouldn’t help with anything. Either Raph would get irritable, or Mikey would get antsy and more nervous than he already was. And Don... while Leatherhead had been confident there wouldn't be a chance of relapse, they'd decided not to risk anything. Guess it'd be pretty hypocritical of him to go on insisting he was fine, when they'd all decided he wasn't.

What was it the Ancient One said about surrender? Leo almost couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle to himself. “Alright. I guess I could take a few days to do nothing. Join Don in being a couch potato.”

“Sounds ideal to me,” Mikey says.

Leo’s smirk widens. “I bet it does.”

“If anyone deserves a ‘nothin’ day ‘round here, it’s you two workaholics,” Raph says, pointing a finger interchangeably between Don and Leo.

“And Klunk will make sure you both stay sitting down!” Mikey scoops Klunk off the floor. The cat mews in protest, wiggling for a moment before tucking against Mikey's chest. “He’ll be making the best biscuits this side of Brooklyn. Aren't you lucky?”

 Raph snorts, and he thumps a fist against Mikey's shoulder. “Mikey and I will finish what needs t’be done around the lair for the day. Take a load off. Enjoy free biscuits from the stupid cat, and be ready for movies and a hot meal t'night.”

Leo could hear Mikey and Raph in the kitchen, but he couldn’t tell if they were bickering or just talking. Guess those were one and the same when it came to those two.

He and Don had taken to the couch, as promised. Don tinkers with his shell-cell while Klunk watches from his lap, and Leo, settled under a thick blanket, adjusts the book in his hand.

It'd been surprisingly difficult to pick which of his few books he'd wanted to start, and there was something bittersweet in the reminder that he'd have to rebuild his library a second time. He'd selected one of the fiction novels--an old fantasy, filled with mists, magic, and a winding world. He'd already read it a time or three, but the familiar pages were comforting and easy to get lost in. A small voice in the back of his mind still grumbled and tutted that there was work to do, things to check, responsibilities and tasks he'd been setting aside for higher priority items. But he ignores it (for now).

Klunk stands and arches his back. His mouth splits into a large yawn, and he gives his tail a lazy little flick before carefully padding out of Don's lap. Leo smiles and chuckles as the cat moves onto his legs instead, already purring loud enough to drown out whatever conversation fills the kitchen.

Don smirks. “Looks like it’s your turn to get cat-sat, Leo.”

“Yeah.” Leo opens a hand so Klunk can headbutt it, and he ruffles his head with the heel of his palm. “Guess it is.”

Don chuckles. He sits back against the couch again and sighs, letting his hands and the shell-cell drop into his lap. Leo slants his eyes toward him. His smile sinks a little as he watches Don tug one of the throw blankets higher over his chest. “...feeling alright, Donnie?”

“Yeah,” Don huffs, “my energy just gets totally sapped after a certain hour. It’s really annoying.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Mn. ...what about you?”

Leo’s brow furrows. “I… think so? I mostly just feel… heavy.”

“Yeah.”

“But not… --not the same kind of heavy I felt before, just…”

“I know,” Don murmurs. There’s something… different in his tone, now. Leo can’t quite put a word to it. Don continues, “I think Raph hit it right on the money. You get back from Japan and… we get you back… but you haven’t really let yourself have much time to breathe, have you?”

“I could say the same to you,” Leo says, “you’ve been working to get the reservoir station up, functional and livable since we got here. Even while you were getting 'sick'.”

“Maybe. But… I hadn’t just come back from a huge trip with a completely different timezone—a-and, I hadn’t been…" He pauses, cautious. "...I dunno. ...struggling...? At least not like you."

Leo frowns. “Donnie. Whether you’re drowning in an ocean or drowning in a puddle… it’s still drowning.”

Don blinks, glancing at him. There's a moment where Leo can't quite read his eyes, but he remains quiet. Then, Don smirks, and he lets out a weak chuckle.

“I guess you’d know about that better than anyone,” he says, “considering you’re the one who dove in after me when my toy car almost got me waxed.”

“It’d be a pretty embarrassing way to go out," Leo says. "Especially for a turtle.”

“You’d also know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you? Embarrassing ways to go out.” Don’s eyes glint, and his smirk sharpens. “Big Foot?”

Leo lets out a laugh, ducking and shaking his head in attempt to mask any show of sheepishness. “—Jeez! A guy steps on a landmine one time.”

“It wasn’t just a landmine. It was a landmine in clear water.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

Don laughs. There’s a small pause as his smile softens, and his shoulders sink into a more relaxed position. “...it’s good to have you back, Leo.”

“Hey.” Leo shifts his weight enough to gently jab his elbow into Don’s upper arm. “Right back at you, bro.”

“Alright, sickos.” Raph rounds the couch, his arms held out flat on either side of him. Two large plates balance on either inner-elbow, and in each hand he has a second plate and bowl of steaming soup. Its warm, soothing smell somehow seeps through all the congestion in Leo's nose and throat, and he sighs, letting it fill his ribs. He sits forward and extends his hands, offering to take one of the sets from Raph's person. Raph shoots him a knowing smirk, and he leans just enough to let Leo lift a plate from his arm. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup: comin’ in hot.”

“Oh, sweet,” Don says.

“Think you mean savory, dude!” Mikey chirps as he vaults the couch (and their heads). Leo passes Don the first bowl and plate, and he looks Mikey’s way as his brother drops to his knees to slide the remaining distance to the television set. He spots a DVD case in one of Mikey’s hands and realizes he recognizes it.

“—wait,” he starts, sitting up, “is that what I think it is?”

Mikey turns, flashing him a toothy grin. “Iiiiiiif you mean Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“Where’d you get that?!” Leo asks, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

“April,” Raph answers. He chuckles and hands Leo the other plate and bowl, “figured it was time t’start usin’ her access to things to our advantage.”

Don arches a brow. “Like we weren’t doing that already?”

“I mean, sure,” Raph says, “but Kiki’s a classic! Gotta look a bit harder t’get your hands on one’a those; ‘specially a copy that ain’t totally trashed.”

“And because she’s totally awesome, she SPLURGED!!” Mikey says, jamming a finger against the DVD player's eject button. “This one’s got behind the scenes—interviews--storyboards even!!!”

“He’s real excited about the storyboards,” Raph mutters, though he fails to mask the fondness coloring his tone. He ambles back toward the kitchen, likely to retrieve food for himself and Mikey.

Leo settles the plate and bowl into the blankets on his lap. Klunk rises from where he'd curled between Don and Leo, and he pads onto one of Leo's knees in attempt to sniff the tomato soup. Leo gently nudges him away. “No, Klunk.”

“Let’s put you on the ground until food’s eaten, little guy,” Don says. He scoops a hand under Klunk’s stomach and lifts him off the couch. Klunk protests with a soft, but long, meow. He allows himself to be placed on the floor, but the look he sends Don—paired with a flick of his tail—is more than enough warning that he’ll be back before food’s finished.

Raph returns with a second round of plates and bowls, and Mikey finishes setting up the DVD. He sprints to the light switch as Raph eases their meals onto the coffee table. The lights shut off, and they’re left in the cool wash of the screen’s glow.

What comes next is a feeling Leo can’t quite put into words. Mikey slides into the open seat on his right, and Raph settles into the nook at Don’s left. The room fills with a familiar score—A Town with an Ocean View, if he remembers the track name correctly--and Don thanks Raph for dinner as the two pass down napkins. Mikey shifts his weight, taking care to move and tuck the blanket so it's evenly distributed between himself and Leo. Then, he curls up, bowl in lap, and lets himself lean into Leo's side. He takes a napkin when Leo offers it to him, and Don and Raph begin banter over who gets the remote for the movie's run time.

Leo has trouble putting a name to this feeling... and even more trouble recalling the last time it fell over him, warm and soft, like an old blanket fresh from the drier.

A sense of peace. Familiarity. Safety and home. He wants to wrap himself in it and stay. Let everything else sink away.

"Remember the first time we watched this?" Don asks. He fixes the plate on his lap and settles a napkin over one of the grilled cheese pieces.

"Feels like years ago," Mikey says.

Raph lets out a soft snort. "'Cause it was years ago."

"Think we were eight," Leo mutters. "It was the first and only time Mikey ever wanted to be near a broom."

"You're just mad 'cuz I won the race," Mikey sniggers. He wiggles enough to poke his elbow into Leo's bridge. "Totally left you and Raphie in the dust. Which you had to sweep up."

"Oh, brother," Don sighs, and Raph rolls his eyes, letting out a low growl.

"Leo? Smack him. I don't wanna spill my soup."

Leo smirks. He shifts his weight, gently jabbing one elbow into Mikey's arm. Mikey whine-groans at him, but the end of it is colored with a chuckle.

Raph (apparently having won whatever game he and Don were engaged in) lifts the remote and hits the center button. The town's melody quiets, and the room goes dark as the title menu fades to black.

[bluespring864]

Tags by @crossedcourt <3

I will now run with them and write an essay because I am always insane about Novandy ;-)

Specifically I want to talk about the "yes i've beaten you on every surface" part. Because I've had a few messages and seen a few comments to the effect of "Wait, they are starting a partnership at the Australian Open of all places?! How many times did Novak beat Andy there?" To which the answer is: Andy lost four of his five Australian Open finals to Novak, three of them rather badly (two in straight sets, one with a fourth set bagel) and he also very narrowly lost probably the most epic match they ever played - according to both of them - which was the Australian Open semifinal in 2012.

While this would be devastating and a cause for animosity for many tennis players I need you to understand that THEY ARE NOT LIKE THAT. At their first meeting at an under-14 tournament, Les Petits As in France in 2001, which concidentally was Novak's first international tournament ever, Andy destroyed him 6-0, 6-1 (Novak: "You gave me one game!") and they still laugh about it to this day. If and when they do press for this new coaching partnership, expect this to come up a few times.

It has always felt to me like their modus operandi was: us against the world (Novak: “Sometimes we catch up for dinner. It’s good to see somebody you grew up with doing so well in professional tennis and it’s great to show to people that top-five players, who are big rivals on the court, can be really good friends as well.”) And it never really changed, even when Novak took a commanding 24-11 lead in the H2H over the years (I am only counting matches played and leaving out the fucking tragic walkover from Andy that prevented their last meeting from happening), after it briefly almost evened out in 2012/2013.

This attitude, of course, is rather impressive from Andy, who could very well be bitter about how differently their careers have gone, considering that they are such similar players who were born only one week apart and that there was definitely much more hype around Andy at the start of their careers (Novak said when they were both 18 and played doubles at, you've guessed it, the Australian Open, that he would and wouldn't like to be like Andy because on the one hand Andy had much more support than him at the time, on the other hand he had the crushing weight of expectations to contend with).

But instead of being bitter, for the last few years of his career you could hear Mr. Murray say things like: “It would be amazing to see him do it [win the 23d Grand Slam] on Sunday. I will be supporting him. And I hope he can do it. Because it is incredible what he has done.” or plainly "I'm happy for him, he deserves it." Or even: "After Wimbledon [2023], everyone was saying it was a changing of the guard, but it wasn't for me." Oh it wasn't for you? You are defensive over the man who has beaten you more than any other in your career being written off too early?

Even during that crazy year of 2016, when they were the two frontrunners in the rankings by miles and Andy was chasing the number one spot, what did he say after losing the only French Open final he ever played? Well, he started it off with "This is his day today. What he’s achieved the last 12 months is phenomenal." and not only told the audience they had been extremely lucky to see Novak make history once again, but also ended with: "I’m proud to have been a part of today."

Us. Against. The. World.

So that's Andy, but what about Novak? Well, not to be outdone he will mention Andy in almost every interview, even when he was very much not asked about him. He will remember the 2013 Wimbledon final which he lost in straight sets to Andy as "a historic, special moment that I cherish" and, on court at the ATP Finals 2016, after his own second half of the year had been rather dismal, he also explained to the crowd that they were part of history that day and that "It was an honour to be on the court and to be a part of the big occasion. Andy is definitely number one of the world. He is the best player. He deserved to win."

If asked about the best matches he has played with Andy he will readily mention the 2012 London Olympics semifinal. We all know how important the Olympics have always been to Novak (if you didn't before 2024, you certainly know now) and this was a semifinal loss at his beloved Olympics in straight sets. Let that sink in.

When Andy retired this year, Novak explained: “He will inspire many generations to come. He inspires me, and we are about the same age." He, who has just finished his career outside of the top 100 and in a doubles match because his body wouldn't even let him play singles anymore, inspires you, who has achieved more than any other in this sport? That's really lovely, Novak. Oh, and by the way, how about Andy becoming world No. 1 and ending Novak's longest stint at No. 1 in his career? Novak's post at the time: "I am really happy to be in the same era with you."

Us. Against. The. World.

So, to make a very long story short: If I was surprised about the coaching news yesterday it was because they actually went for it, not because it seemed outlandish to me in any way. As you can see, it makes perfect sense. I am really glad we are getting another chapter of this story which - according to Novak - is "A script, a long story. A romance, I’ll call it." after we previously were treated to - according to Andy - "Rivals, doubles partners, friends and lovers?" By the way, he still has that Instagram post pinned. Anyway, before I digress, let me conclude this by saying:

You thought their story was over? Think again.

[sillygoose067]

A Masked Promise

Ch. 3

Dick Grayson (Nightwing) x Reader

Somehow, the universe always seemed to be watching your every move and throwing you curveballs. So when you had told Dick Grayson that you’d be doing your part in trying to find Rachel, of course, you just had to run into her in a dark alleyway.

 You were only keeping a watchful eye for her on the news and the shady districts you passed through on your way home. But then, one dark night, as you walked through the damp alley a couple of blocks away from your place, you heard a rustle. At first you’d thought it was just a couple of dumpster cats scavenging for food—but as you’d peeked around to catch a glimpse and perhaps feed the cats the cafe’s leftovers you were carrying, you’d found a young girl instead. She was huddled under a couple cardboard boxes, trying to generate heat in the cold, wet night. 

Carefully, you inched closer to her. She had yet to notice you. 

 “Hi.” 

The girl whirls around in panic, her hands splayed out in front of her in an odd display of defense. 

 “Get away from me!” 

Your eyes adjust in the dimness. Squinting, "Rachel?" you whisper. 

The girl seems to tense up even more. “How do you know my name?” 

“I saw you on the news," you tell her. Her eyes widen as she tries to plan an escape, but you beat her to it. “I don’t want to hurt you, I promise. I won’t turn you in. I swear.”

This makes Rachel freeze. “Why should I believe you? You could lead me right to the police right now if you wanted to.” 

“I swear, I won’t do that. Actually, a friend of mine wants to help you. He sympathizes and—”

 “Fuck his sympathy," spits the purple-haired girl. “Your friend can go to hell with his pity.” 

"No, Rachel, he doesn’t pity you. I— I think he understands how you feel. He also knows what it feels like to be alone and to not have anyone to trust. Please, come with me. You can stay with me at my apartment, have a nice warm shower, clean clothes, and food. I promise I won’t let you get hurt.”

 She huffs in frustration but seems to finally concede to the thought of a warm place to stay this frigid night. "Okay, but—but remember that I killed my mom, and I can kill you too if you betray me.” 

Your heart breaks a little as you hear her say those words. She didn’t kill her mother, yet she carried the guilt of the action. “Rachel, I know you didn’t kill your mom, okay? You don’t have to pretend in front of me," you whisper softly. Her breath shakes as she soaks in your words. 

 You reach out a hand and help her up. “Why are you helping me?" she asks out of the blue. 

 “I guess… I also know what it’s like to be all alone and not have anyone to fall back on. And I would never wish that kind of loneliness on anyone,” you shrug.

 “Well… You know my name, but I don’t know yours. What do I call you?”

 “Y/n.”

…

 Unfortunately, you had no way to contact Dick Grayson, so you decided to wait it out and take Rachel with you to work the next day.

"Okay, Rachel, I’m going to need you to stay in the backroom. My coworkers can’t know you’re here, but I’ll come back to you once Mr. Gr-My friend is here. Deal?” 

She nods reluctantly. You give her your phone. “Here, use this to keep yourself busy. Play some games or read something. Stay safe, I’ll be back.”

… 

Not long after, Mr. Grayson walks in around his usual time.  

“Welcome to The Chariot! Would you like an order of your usual?”

He nods curtly, swiping his credit card for payment. As he turns to leave, you remember Rachel. 

Reaching out quickly, you grab his elbow. “Wait!”

He gives you a funny look, eyes glancing down to where you held him. Hastily, you release your grip and brush your hands down your apron nervously. “Sorry. Um, wait. Can you meet me behind the counter? I have something to tell you.” 

Dick squints at you in confusion.  

“Please? It’s important.”

He looks around the sparsely populated cafe and follows you around the front. You drag him unceremoniously to the backroom. 

“What is this about?" his deep voice resounds behind you as you peek through the door to the backroom. 

“Um, yeah. So, uh, remember that girl you were telling me about? The one you wanted to help?”

A perfect, thick eyebrow rises. “Rachel?”

“Yeah, Rachel. So, funny story, I actually found her last night, and she’s been with me since then. I told her that I have a friend that wants to help her, and she’s still apprehensive, but she’s willing to meet you.”

Dick’s eyes widen at this. “Are you telling me Rachel’s in there right now?”

You nod quietly, biting your lip. He makes a move toward the door, but you grab his arm again. 

“Wait! I need to know that you won’t hurt her. And that you won’t turn her in to the authorities. She’s been through a lot, and I think she could use some honesty.”

Dick sighs as he looks to the ground for support. God, he could kiss you right now—not only for making his job easier and finding Rachel—but for having such a big heart. He hopes that the action of looking down masks his smile. Once he’s collected himself, he faces you once again. 

“Y/n”, He breathes. “I won’t hurt her or put her in harm’s way. You don’t know how much you’ve helped. Both of us.” This time you’re the one searching his eyes for any sign of dishonesty. “I promise," he says. You finally loosen your grip and gesture for him to walk through the door, following after him. 

Rachel seems to notice the commotion and stands up. “Y/n?”

“Hey Rachel. This is the friend I was telling you about.”

Dick reaches his hand to shake. “I’m Detective Grayson.”

"Detective!" Rachel turns to you furiously. “You promised you wouldn’t turn me in! You bitch! I should’ve killed you last night!”

“Hey, hey, hey," Dick intervenes. “I’m off duty, and I’m not taking you to the station. Just let me explain.” He’s trying to damage control, but you’ve already taken the blow. You stand silently on the side. 

 “I think I’ll leave you two to it. My break ends in two minutes anyway.” Dick watches your retreating form and sighs.

 “Look, Rachel. You shouldn’t have said those things to her. She only did what she thought was right, and I’m not going to turn you in. I’m working on a personal case, trying to find kids like us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. Misunderstood, weird abilities, orphans, all of the sort.”

Rachel scoffs. “You have abilities?” 

“Not like you do, but yes. And before you ask how I know about your abilities, I did my research.”

Rachel’s skeptical as she allows him to continue. “There’s something big coming; I can feel it. And I need all the help I can get to protect the citizens of this country.”

"And how do you know I can help, not just cause more damage?”

“I’m going to train you.”

“...Okay… and assuming I believe you, how many people do you have on your so-called ‘team’ as of right now?”

“You’re the first. I have more, but they’re a little further from the coast, and I was in the area.”

“...”

 …

“I should apologize to her, shouldn’t I?" Rachel asks Dick as he leads her out of the room. 

“Yes, you should. She did her best to help, not knowing what else to do and putting herself in potential danger. I don’t think she deserved that outburst.”

"Fine, I'll apologize," huffs Rachel. “You know, you’re such a dad. You got any kids?”

“Just you," he quips back. 

Someday I might have some of my own with Y/N. Wishful thinking, but one can hope.

[rhamrhanch]

Shepherd of Death, Don't Herd Me

Part Eight: Fire to the Flame

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort

A/N: sorry this took forever, hope you all enjoy! now I can finally watch the arcane finale YIPPEE

chapter under the cut ↓

---

You stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide open and not any closer to the blissful numbness that your body craved so desperately. Fatigue sat heavy in your bones, pinning down your limbs until they became one with the firm cotton of your mattress.

While your body was worn and weary, your mind was racing, a living tempest beating against your skull. Ramattra’s words, deep and cavernous, echoed in your mind.

Sleep.

It seemed antithetical to his existence that his voice could sound so soft, gentler than you had ever heard it in its command. Its warmth was even more pronounced, and for that moment part of you understood how someone could be drawn to his cause. If not for his words, powerful in their fierce resolve, his voice held enough gravitas that surely some were entranced by it alone.

You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead, as though trying to smooth away the thoughts you had pushed to the far corners of your mind that now stood to consume you.

Something had changed. You weren’t sure what it was, or when exactly it had happened, but you knew that something was different. It was like the veil of hostility between you had lifted, and you could finally see Ramattra as he was, what shape he took without so many outside forces pressing down on him.

Everything he did was calculated. Words were used as throughways to information, not as a means for conversation. His countenance was still as standing water, his true thoughts hidden beneath the surface while he stood above it all—a quality that you had to admit you envied, as frustrating as it was for you at times. But there had been moments when the dam broke, and you would find yourself drowning in the cognitive dissonance of it all.

When he had hidden you from Talon soldiers, his arms circling your waist in a protective ring.

When he had allowed you the opening move in your first game of chess with him, and every game thereafter, despite knowing full well how much faster it would end were it the other way around.

And, most fresh in your memory, when he had met your determined declaration of inevitable victory against him by laughing—laughing!—in your face.

It should not have surprised you as much as it did. Plenty of times had you heard him laugh, but they all paled in comparison to what you heard then.

It reverberated from his chest, rich and mirthful in its robotic timbre. A laughter so rare that it filled whoever heard it with the overwhelming desire to hear it again and again.

You may not have liked him very much, but you were at least honest enough with yourself to admit that you really, really liked his laugh. As your eyelids drifted shut, you wondered what you could say that you may hear it again.

A sharp ping from your pager rang out in the silence, waking you much earlier than you would have liked. You ignored it, rolling back over. It was probably just another repair request, no need to answer it immediately.

To your misfortune, it pinged again, and again, each one even louder than the last. Groaning, you dragged your pillow over your face and pressed down, hoping to muffle the sound, but it was no use. You threw your pillow to the foot of the bed and angled the pager toward you, squinting at the message that appeared.

From: Winston. New assignment, report to the hangar ASAP.

You shot upright, flinging the covers aside. Damn, you were already late. You snatched your coveralls from the chair you’d thrown them over and yanked them on, all thought of the Ravager forgotten as you rushed out the door.

---

A few hours later, you were back in your workshop, gripping the edge of your worktable so tight that your hands trembled. Bits and pieces of the briefing you'd received surfaced from the fog of anger clouding your mind as you stared at the lifeless omnic in front of you.

His head and eyes were obscured by a device which could only have crawled out from your nightmares. Cylindrical rods jutted out from it like spikes, like the shell of some creature warning all those who came near to stay away.

You sucked in a sharp breath, letting it out gradually before gently taking the omnic’s head between your hands. With practiced grace, you rotated it slowly, inspecting the device closely. Whatever purpose it had been designed for was a mystery to you, but the condition it left its wearer in made you less than optimistic.

You tilted the omnic's chin up, barely revealing the dim glow of his LEDs beneath the shrouding metal—a somewhat good sign, though you felt little joy at its discovery. Carefully, you released him. He did not respond, head limp as it dropped back down.

Toronto. That was where he had been found. You tried to imagine it then, what it must have been like to see airships roam the sky, deploying Nulltroopers by the hundreds as one loud voice called out above the chaos.

This is not war. This is liberation.

If this was liberation, then it bastardized the word. Its meaning had been warped and distorted into something unrecognizable.

So much time had passed, so used to seeing Ramattra had you become, that you let yourself forget. Forget who he was, and why he was here. Why he was kept under lock and key, always under a watchful eye. Now, as if punishment for your ambivalence, you were forced to see the proof of who he was with your own eyes.

Even still, you were being spared. The omnic on your worktable was only one out of hundreds. So many more had been taken, an even larger number abandoned in the streets. All with their agency, their very being having been ripped from them in an instant like their lives and souls meant nothing.

And all the while you had been here, devoting your time and your empathy to the one responsible for it.

The shame of it all was going to burn you from the inside.

With one harsh motion, you shoved off the worktable, grabbing a cable and plugging one end into a port on the back of the omnic's neck and the other into the tower under your desk. You had been sulking long enough—there was work to do.

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you watched the monitor flicker to life, eyes scanning the ribbons of graphs as they oscillated on the screen.

All except one.

He was still alive, of that you were certain. But the line that represented CPU activity plateaued, cutting into your eyes like a wire. You knew from the flicker of his LEDs that the omnic was awake as well, though perhaps not fully cognizant of the condition he was in. Even so, that line should have been fluctuating, yet it remained unmoving, as clear an indicator as any that the omnic was little more than a husk of his former self.

For the rest of the day, you toiled in your workshop, running diagnostic test after diagnostic test and hoping, praying to see any change in the omnic's neural activity.

A day turned into two, and then to three, and by the fourth day of no change you had gotten deep into the habit of breaking things just to release some of the tension. Old scrap, broken projects, anything you could get your hands on, you would disassemble and then reassemble until your fingertips were sore, as if trying to prove to yourself that you still had the ability to fix something.

But eventually, that too ceased to bring any satisfaction, and you found yourself sitting with your head in your hands, an empty numbness overtaking your entire body as you stared blankly at the scattered notes on your worktable. Realization crept up your back as you felt a disbelieving laugh threaten to burst from your throat.

Trying to fix something like this was the ultimate catch twenty-two. You couldn't deduce the purpose of the device without removing it, and you couldn't remove it without risking the life of the omnic. No wonder Torbjörn had passed the buck to you for this. You wouldn't want this job either.

The fleeting urge to laugh at your circumstances dissolved as a familiar ache settled in your chest.

What if you couldn't do it? If even Torbjörn, a man who had decades of engineering experience on you, dared not to try, how could you possibly measure up? No amount of skill gave you the ability to conjure miracles out of thin air.

You almost resented it now, the amount of faith that your fellow agents put in you. How much your skill was esteemed, without even knowing how you had honed it.

All you had promised was that you would try your best. Your senior engineer had thanked you with a grateful smile, wishing you luck.

Don't thank me, you wanted to say. Please don't.

The thought made you recall the first conversation you had with Winston, when you had been on the cusp of joining Overwatch. He had wanted to discuss your previous work, mentioning a dissertation you had written long ago when you were still a fledgling engineer in your field. Something about simulated neuromodulation in robotics—you couldn't quite remember, as you hated reading your old work.

Inspired, you remembered him calling it. Ahead of its time.

Recalling the words now made you cringe. Your optimism when you had published that paper was blinding back then, leading you down a path that you took too long to realize led to nothing but despair. And now, because of the decision you made to shed your past life, you found yourself here, at the precipice of an indescribably important task and unable to do anything about it.

If only you knew the device's purpose, then maybe you could have an idea of where to start, some inkling of what to do. But the thought of even speaking to its creator made you feel ill, a mixture of disappointment and guilt and anger rising to your tongue like bile. Your failure at being able to solve this problem on your own made you feel useless enough; you did not need to rub any more salt into the wound by begging for help.

You did not sleep, staying up all hours of the night with your head on your desk as you waited for the tests to take their toll, watching the lines flicker on the screen and knowing that they would be the same as they always were.

You heard that same voice that once warmed you with its kindness urge you to rest. Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you banished it from your mind, refusing to indulge in something you did not deserve. You would not stop working, not while the fate of this omnic rested on your shoulders.

Hearing a signal from your computer, you lifted your head from where it rested in the crook of your elbow, feeling a familiar burn in your eyes as you stared at the monitor for what felt like the hundredth time. Today was the fifth day you had slouched over this table, monitoring the omnic for any sign of change, only to see nothing.

Hot tears of frustration sprung to your eyes as you gazed at the omnic on your worktable, motionless as he had been since the day he was brought to you. There would be no sixth, you decided then. Tomorrow, you would tell Winston that there was nothing more you could do.

Reaching forward, you took the omnic's hand in your own, realizing that you did not even know his name. You wondered to yourself what kind of person he had been before all of this happened to him.

Did he have a job? Any hobbies, a favorite song?

Did he have a family, someone waiting for him to return?

Your heart began to beat faster as the last question weighed in your mind. How could you give up on him, without knowing whether there were people out there who still needed him? What gave you the right to decide that, when there was still one last thing you had not tried?

Gently, you placed his hand atop his chest, before sitting up from your chair and throwing open the door of your workshop. You refused to let your pride stand in the way of helping someone who needed it.

---

Ramattra lifted his head immediately at the sound of footsteps, having heard their specific rhythm enough times to recognize who they belonged to.

He felt his body warm slightly at the expectation of your arrival. When you had not returned like you promised, Ramattra had initially thought nothing of it. You had other duties to attend to, and he welcomed the quiet solemnity that solitude offered him.

But when almost a week had passed and you still had not come, he had realized how much he had come to look forward to your visits, and how noticeable your absence now was to him. With you came the knowledge that for at least a few hours he would have something else to focus on besides the dull and colorless walls of the room, an element of his imprisonment that he was growing more and more weary of.

It was with this expectation that his internal fans began to circulate, his processor running wild to compute the possibilities of what you might do today. But when he finally caught sight of you across the hall, you were not wearing the expression he had grown accustomed to seeing.

Your eyes were dull, the shadows beneath it having grown darker since he saw you last. Clearly, you had not taken his suggestion to heart. But as tired as you seemed, there was a quickness to your stride that could only have come from determination.

The keypad outside the door beeped in rapid succession and then you were entering, something he couldn't quite identify clutched in your hand. Ramattra stood instantly as you came to a stop in front of him.

"You need to come with me," you said, and then your hands were around his wrists without warning. There was an urgency to your motions that was a far cry from the care with which you touched his wrist before, and he instinctively pulled away, finally seeing what exactly it was that you had brought with you.

Handcuffs.

"What is the meaning of this?" he growled, and you sighed as if frustrated.

"I'll explain it to you later, but right now I need you to—" You reached for his hand again, but he snatched it away.

"I will not be kept in restraints—"

"Winston won't let you leave this room without them," you said through grit teeth. "Just let me put them on." A moment passed, and then, "Please."

Ramattra analyzed your face, searching for signs of deception. Finding none, he let his processor run through the possibilities that your words implied.

Silently, he stepped closer to you, holding his hands slightly away from his body. You slid the restraints over his wrist, and he grunted as the bolts snapped into place. Immediately, he felt his body grow lethargic, as if it suddenly lost the strength to hold itself up properly. He lifted his arms slightly, actuators feeling like they were moving through tar with the movement. Electromagnetic handcuffs, he realized. That ape was smarter than he gave him credit for.

Ramattra had no choice but to follow you as you grasped his elbow, leading him away from the conference room. Though his body was weakened, his system remained unburdened, and he took every opportunity he had to memorize his surroundings, storing them away for future reference. As you proceeded further into the base, though, the halls became more familiar, and he soon realized where exactly you were taking him.

Your workshop was a mess compared to the last time he seen it, scattered papers and miscellaneous scrap covering every surface. When he saw the omnic you had sprawled on your worktable, one of his subjugators on their head and a wire at their neck, alarm sparked through his system. He tried to reach for them, only for his hands to strain against the cuffs, pulling a noise of frustration from his vocalizer.

"What have you done?" he asked, unable to mask the urgency in his voice.

You paused, as if surprised by his reaction, before your brow furrowed. "Nothing yet. Not until you tell me what this is for," you said, before pointing at the subjugator.

His optics flicked from the omnic back to you. "You cannot remove it," he said, not willing to disclose any further.

You held firm, crossing your arms over your chest as you fixed him with an inquisitive gaze. "Why not? Surely now that you are confined to this place, you have no need for soldiers."

"Soldiers?" His head tilted in confusion. "They are not soldiers."

Your shoulders slackened, meeting his confusion with your own. "They aren't? Then why… why would you do this?” Hands falling to your sides, you had a pained look on your face that he had not seen before. “How could you do this to other omnics, your own kind—"

Ramattra caught the waver in your tone, but it did not sway him. "All I have ever done, I have done for the sake of my people. This is a necessary measure, to keep them safe—"

"Safe?" you interrupted, eyes wide with disbelief. "You must be joking."

Irritation ignited in his processor. "I am not."

You seemed to have abandoned your earlier attempt to appeal to him as you stepped forward, eyes piercing daggers through his chassis. "How does robbing them of choice keep them safe? How does suppressing their entire being keep them safe?"

The logical part of his mind knew you would not understand, knew that this conversation would do nothing but unearth a deep bitterness that roiled inside him like thunder, yet still words rose in his vocalizer, a desperate desire for just one person to see things the way he did.

"Would you let your kind walk freely if it meant they were walking into fire?" he snapped. "Too many of my people would rather throw their lives away protecting the very humans that call for our destruction than dare to raise a hand against them.” His hands fought against the restraints as he spoke, feeling the familiar burn in his processor as his buried rage clawed its way to the surface. “I have chosen to walk the latter path, but I will not allow my people to put themselves in danger by standing in my way."

"But it’s a danger of your own creation!" Your voice was rising now, but Ramattra did not falter.

"It is a necessary endeavor I must take to ensure the survival of my people," he said, fighting to keep his voice measured as frustration at your refusal to understand began building in his processor. "Without being threatened, humanity has no motivation to ever treat us fairly. Omnics will forever remain second-class citizens, relics of the war to be whittled down until there are none of us left. If my people refuse to recognize that, then I must make them—"

"You have no right to decide that!" you shouted. "Their freedom is not yours for the taking! To so callously rid them of their autonomy, treating them with little more dignity than as a means to an end—" You stopped as you took a breath, punching out your next words with venom.

“It’s cruel!"

Ramattra stilled. Cruel? What could you possibly know of the word? As far as he was concerned, no human had the right to use that word against him, not after everything he bore witness to in his life.

Slowly, he walked forward, drawing close enough to you that his chest nearly touched yours. He angled his head over you, looking down at you silently. You remained as still as a statue, only tilting your head up to meet his gaze dead on.

Good. He wanted to see the look in your eyes when he said this.

"Do you know how many omnics there were after the war?" he growled, the sound sitting low in his vocalizer. Your gaze faltered slightly, and you clenched your jaw, but you did not answer.

"Do you know how many have died since then?"

Again, you had no answer, so he answered for you.

"One tenth," he said. "In less than thirty years, one tenth of all the omnics who have ever existed and will ever exist are now gone, forever. Just a single generation, and we have been decimated permanently.”

He watched the defiant fire in your eyes flicker out as his words sunk in, but still you did not look away.

“If you want to call me cruel, do not ever forget again why I have been forced to be.”

Silence hung between you for a moment, and he felt a lick of satisfaction at your apparent speechlessness. But it did not last long.

"If you do not let them decide for themselves if they want to fight," you said, your voice eerily calm, "how does that make you any different from Anubis?"

Something jolted in Ramattra's processor, a pointed memory that he had suppressed when the pain of remembering became too strong. An argument, just like this one, with friends long gone.

“I refuse to aid you in undoing all that I have worked for,” he said eventually, turning away from your gaze.

"Fine." You snagged the bridge between his cuffs. "Have it your way. I will do this on my own."

---

You sat against the wall in the hangar, your knees pulled up and your face buried in your arms. Now late in the evening, the blazing anger from your argument with Ramattra had flickered out, leaving you only with the sad reality of what you were now faced with. Having burned a bridge with the only potential lead you had, you were back where you began.

The worst part was that you could not convince yourself to hate him. You wanted to, so badly you wanted to, but after hearing everything he said, you could not fault him for how he felt. He was right, and the reality of it had slapped you in the face.

You had no idea what it had been like for omnics after the war. You had no memories of your own of the Crisis, only what it had felt like to live in the aftermath. Whatever you felt could never compare to the weight of experience that belonged to those who had existed since the beginning.

How many times had your hands swept over the broken bodies of omnics, your own undoing the imprints of hatred left behind by your fellow humans? How many times had you felt the urge to scream from the rooftops, your demands for others to look at the world around them repeatedly ignored?

Your own bitterness and frustration had led you to make choices you now regretted, and you were only human. What must it have been like for Ramattra, for all the omnics, to suddenly awaken from some horrible dream only to be met with hatred and violence for things they had no memory of doing?

You jumped at the sound of grinding metal as the garage doors of the hanger opened slowly, splitting from the middle as the anodized white of the ship’s hull peeked through. Wind from the ship’s landing gear whipped your collar around your neck as you approached it. The hangar closed behind it with a loud slam, echoing around the walls as the main door opened outward. Two figures exited, and you lifted a hand in greeting.

"Genji!" you said upon recognizing the neon green of his armor. "You're back!"

His head darted up, as though surprised to see you. "Oh, hello. I apologize, I did not realize you were waiting for us."

Us? "No, I was just nearby—" you began to say, before finally realizing who was standing beside him. Or floating, rather.

Your eyes flickered between Genji and the unfamiliar omnic before recognition sparked in your memory. "Oh, you must be Zenyatta!" you said, feeling slightly embarrassed at your rudeness and holding your hand out. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”

The omnic bent his head down in greeting before taking your extended hand. "Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. Genji has spoken about you often." You straightened up, clasping your hands in front of you as you struggled to think of something to say. "Have you come to join Overwatch as well?"

"No, that is not the nature of my visit," he replied calmly, his voice smooth and tempered. "Genji informed me that my presence here was needed. For what purpose, I have yet to find out."

"I see," you said, looking down awkwardly. "Well then, I won't keep you." You moved to leave, only to stop when Zenyatta spoke again.

“My student has told me that you are quite an engineer. Would you be willing to have a look at my shoulder?” He placed a hand over it, rotating it a bit too stiffly for an omnic. “Perhaps one of my servos has locked up.”

"Oh," you said softly, haphazardly looking back in the direction of your workshop. "I suppose, but I really should be getting back to—”

“Wonderful!” the monk interrupted, placing a hand on your back and leading you in the direction that was not where your workshop was. You spared a questioning glance over your shoulder at Genji, but he only shrugged.

Soon you found yourself in the base’s common area, resting your elbows on the island as you watched Zenyatta leisurely float about the kitchen as he prepared tea. How he even knew where the kitchen was you had no idea, but you had no reason to complain.

After a moment, he set a ceramic cup in front of you. You brought it close, letting the curling steam warm your face for a moment.

“I thought you wanted me to check your shoulder,” you said, turning in your chair to face the omnic as he came to hover beside you.

"During my travels I have found that sharing a cup of tea creates a pleasant environment for conversation," he said, clasping his hands in front of him. “It’s good for an omnic to get to know his mechanic, don’t you think?”

You smiled softly, already endeared to this somewhat mystifying monk. One hand beneath your cup, you lifted it to your lips, feeling warmth spread throughout your body. The tea was sharp and bitter, but it gave way to a cooling aftertaste that loosened the tension in your shoulders immediately. For someone with no sense of smell or taste, Zenyatta made an excellent cup of tea.

"This blend is lovely," you said. "Where did you find it?"

"At a village apothecary in Huangshan," he answered. “That is where I was when Genji contacted me. The locals recommended it as a good visiting gift.”

"Isn’t the monastery in Nepal?" you asked, taking another sip. "That seems quite a distance to go just for tea."

Zenyatta’s chin tilted downward, and for a moment your heart leaped, fearing you had offended him.

“I have not been to the monastery for some time now. I sought my own path and have been travelling the world in the years since I met Genji.”

You set your cup down, sitting with rapt attention at Zenyatta’s words. “I see. What inspired your travels, if you don’t mind my asking?”

"A great many things,” he said. “But the idea had first come to me from a brother of mine, another monk of the Shambali, long ago."

“Really?”

He nodded. "Yes. He had grown dissatisfied with the teachings of the Shambali and wanted to search for a method toward peace for our people outside of the monastery. Back then, he had asked me to accompany him, but I declined.”

“Did you ever regret it?” The question slipped from your mouth before you could think, and you immediately kicked yourself internally. But Zenyatta only hummed in thought, his spheres chiming as they rotated around him.

“At the time, I felt I had more to learn at the monastery, that perhaps there was something he had not seen that I had yet to know. It was one of the points of disagreement between us, but he did not try to convince me to go, and I did not try to convince him to stay.”

“One of?” you asked, your voice curious. Perhaps your own ignorance was to blame, but you never imagined two members of the same monastic order could be that different. “Did you disagree often?”

"Sometimes. But our bond did not suffer for it. We both shared the same goal, so disagreements were only another way to understand each other. At least, we used to." There was something almost sorrowful in Zenyatta’s tone, hardly noticeable if you were not paying such close attention. "I often wonder what would have become of him, had I taken his offer from the beginning. But the past is a mirror that distorts the memory. I can only look toward the future now to guide me."

You looked down at the tea in your cup, seeing your own face reflected back at you. "Do you still believe people very different from each other can get along?"

Zenyatta tilted his head at you. For a moment, the gesture reminded you of Ramattra, but the feeling was fleeting. "Is there someone in particular you are thinking of?"

You felt a shiver run down your back at how incredibly astute he was. It took only one sentence for him to instantly pinpoint the true intent behind your question.

Your first instinct was to say no. You hardly knew Zenyatta, had only just begun speaking to him less than an hour ago. Yet you felt a strange familiarity with him, like you had met before somehow. Perhaps this was just the way all monks were—somewhat omniscient and easy to talk to. Something you needed right now.

"Yes,” you answered after a moment. “I want—need—to work together with him for something important, but we just… can’t seem to find common ground.” You sighed, feeling a dull pain in your chest at the memory.

“When two people feel passionate about something, it is usually because they care very deeply about it,” Zenyatta said. “Perhaps it would be fruitful to think about the ways in which your goals align.”

You leaned back in your chair, humming contemplatively. It would probably be good advice for someone in any other situation besides yours. Though, at this point, what did you have to lose?

"Maybe you’re right,” you acquiesced. “But I find it difficult to imagine how I could share any goals with the leader of Null Sector—"

The chiming stopped, and you paused, looking back to Zenyatta only to see that his spheres had frozen in place.

You were about to ask him what was wrong when he leaned forward, his voice earnest as he asked, “Ramattra? Ramattra is here?”