#i know this to be true in my heart because i am the mayor of scorpions

[jasper-the-menace]

I am so mad that I can't figure out how to draw Chima characters (the angling of their damn snouts...) because if I could, you know - you know - that I would draw Lagravis in a shirt that reads "#1 Supporter of Evil Trans Men" for my soulmate AU. This man is watching Scorm tear up political intrigue left and right and he's applauding the whole time.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Haymitch Abernathy & The Dead Donner Girl

Summary: Haymitch is forced to mentor the niece of his former ally, aka the prequel to all things Moves & Countermoves. (Warning: Sunrise on the Reaping spoilers.)

Ghosts are real, Haymitch knows this to be true the first time he catches a glimpse of the Mayor’s youngest daughter. Madge Undersee is a spitting image of her Aunt, Maysilee Donner. It ruins the rest of his day. His month really, or year, maybe even his life, but who’s counting.

The image of Y/N Undersee peeling off that same little girl’s desperate hands, after her name is called at the reaping, will haunt him now too.

“Madge pie, I have to go now.” Y/N tries to reason with her, but Madge only wails louder.

Eventually Mayor Undersee comes to collect her, giving his eldest daughter a pat on the cheek. “We’ll sort this out, don’t you worry.”

Y/N does not worry. Making her way to the stage with her head held high.

Just like Maysilee.

The male tribute Tyson, joins her there shortly after.

“This year’s tributes from District Twelve, Y/N Undersee and Tyson Carell.”

Fifteen and Seventeen, the mayor’s kid and a boy from the seam. What a pair they make.

————————————————————————

Haymitch is allowed half an hour of solace before those damn kids are pounding down his door. The gentle rocking of the train temps him with the promise of sleep. But they just keep knocking until he has no choice but to answer. “Are your hands bleeding yet?”

“You’re supposed to be our mentor,” Tyson reminds him.

“That I am.” Haymitch cocks his head to the side.

“Yeah, generally speaking that means you’re supposed to be with us.” The girl’s voice is grading, harsh against his ears.

“If you need to be mentored on how to sit on a train, you’re never going to last in the games.” Haymitch retorts, “come back and bother me tomorrow once we’re in the Capitol. Maybe I’ll have something useful for you then.”

The door slams in their faces as quickly as it opened.

“Alright,” Tyson laughs, “he’s an ass.”

“Mhm,” Y/N hums her agreement.

————————————————————————

They don’t bother with their would be mentor again, electing to band together instead. Between the two of them, Y/N and Tyson decide that he should ask most of the questions.

“Don’t take it personally.” Tyson says, chowing down on his plate of hastily arranged treats. “Not everyone is gonna like you.”

“You should try the purple pastries.” She tells her partner, “they’re the best.”

“I almost forgot,” he grumbles, around a mouthful of food. “You get to eat like this all the time.”

“Not all the time.” Y/N lifts a shoulder. “Only on special occasions.”

“If I win, I’m eating these every day.” Tyson decides after his first bite.

Y/N huffs a laugh.

“I’m taking you with me to the end, of course.”

“Because I recommend the pastry?”

Tyson nods, “proves you have good taste. Plus, you’re the Mayor’s kid, gives you some pull in the Capitol. Could get us sponsors.”

“It could.” Being the Mayor’s kid didn’t spare her from the reaping.

“We should make a list of our strengths and weaknesses.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Anything off the top of your head? Any secret talents? Things you’re afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Y/N replies. “But I can juggle. How about you?”

“I’m afraid of being eaten alive.” Tyson ticks a finger against his lips, “as for talents, I can do cartwheels.”

“Cool.”

“So if you die and I win this thing, who am I looking after back home for you?” He does not beat around the bush; never has. Even if it cost him a friend or two.

Y/N sinks further into her chair, “my sister. Her name’s Madge.”

“What about your folks?” Tyson arches a dark brow.

“My dad will be alright, it’s my mom I worry about.” She’s been through alot. ‘Family business’ which Y/N is forbidden to speak of. Not that it matters now.

“Why?”

“My mom had twin sisters. One died in the games, the other-” Aunt Merrilee couldn’t stand her own reflection after that. The grief got her. “She died of a broken heart.” That’s the polite way of saying it. “My mom started taking morphling after. The doctors said it would help, most days she can’t get out of bed.” If I die, the last of the Donner sisters may follow.

“Well if you win, I’ve got a long list of requests.” Tyson has twelve younger siblings.

Haymitch joins them sometime later, making for the toast and jam.

“Saved some for you.” Tyson jerks his chin toward the breakfast spread.

“How kind,” Haymitch grumbles.

—————���——————————————————

Y/N’s stylist takes a real liking to dressing her in one of a kind pieces.

“You’re my muse.” Unlike most, Vanity, with her skin painted gold and a pastel green wig, fusses over her tribute.

She welcomes the girl’s suggestions, putting a new spin on tired Capitol fashion.

Haymitch drinks, occasionally chiming in to correct Y/N and Tyson in their planning, but for the most part they are left largely alone. Scoring seven and eight respectively, admirable numbers for twelve.

It’s not until the night before their interviews that the girl finally snaps at him.

“Relax, Y/N.” Tyson rolls his eyes, “he’s just being an ass again.”

Haymitch, as usual, does not spare a glance in her direction.

“Stop acting like a child and look at me!” Her words echo through their floor of the tribute center.

“I don’t want to look at you!” Haymitch scoffs, “I look at you and all I see is another dead Donner girl. I don’t want any more of your blood on my hands.” From Maysilee in the arena, to Merrilee who took her own life a few years later. Maybe if he hadn’t called her Maysilee that day while he was losing his mind… Now Y/N will join them, in a sea of crimson he will never be free of.

“I-” the girl’s cheeks heat up, from anguish or rage, she herself is not sure. “I’m not a Donner girl. I’m an Undersee.”

Haymitch grunts, still averting his eyes.

“And if I really am gonna be dead in a few days, that was a shitty thing to say.”

“What do you want from me, girl?”

“I want you to help us!”

“Help you?” Haymitch downs his glass, “I can’t help you.” He already is, as much as he can. Not for the girl standing before him, but for the girl who isn’t. The girl he’s reminded of each time he sees the locket around her niece’s neck. He’s pulling sponsors as best he can for Maysilee. In her honor. That’s all he can do.

“You’re the only one outside the arena who can.” Y/N challenges, “it’d do you well to remember that.”

Haymitch doesn’t want to remember, he drinks to forget.

————————————————————————

As the lights of the hovercraft transporting his tributes to the arena disappear from view, Haymitch is finally able to breathe again. To think and compose himself now that he is no longer face to face with the dead Donner girl.

She exists only on the giant screen of the viewing room, somehow she is easier to stomach this way. No chance she might reach out and drag him back to his own personal hell.

But time proves him wrong, this is hell. Waiting to watch the Donner girl die. There is no way she’ll live, even with sponsors lining up, money in hand. If money could buy her freedom, she’d never have set foot in the arena.

The bloodbath is over. Tyson takes Y/N and runs, in search of water and high ground. Maybe if they’re lucky, some shelter from the boiling sun.

The landscape is full of sandy dunes and rock, no visible water source and absolutely no shade. The arena’s ceiling is visible to the naked eye, which hasn’t happened in years. Meaning the border must be significant, though Haymitch can’t yet say why.

That is until the next day, when the arena flips on its head, funneling the remaining tributes through a narrow opening to the other side. It’s an hourglass, one that is slowly filling with sand.

————————————————————————

Like clockwork, the hourglass flips. Several tributes are lost in the transition, suffocating beneath the sand. As they regain their bearings, Y/N and Tyson find themselves beside a pile of sand towering high enough to block most of the artificial sun.

“What’d you think? Should we climb it?” Tyson asks his district partner, teasingly.

She is two years his junior, still not an idiot. This is no hiking expedition. “No, we should save our strength, like Haymitch said.”

“Did you know the tallest mountain in the world was called Mount Everest? Before the founding of our great nation?” He presses on, largely ignoring Y/N’s sage advice.

“What do they call it now?” She wonders.

“Trick question; tallest mountain in the world was actually Mauna Kea.”

“Now’s a bad time for trivia.” Y/N decides, a hand at her brow.

“It’s the only time we’ve got.”

————————————————————————

Parachutes provide most food and water. With only a small desert lake resembling a mirage to drink from, and passing seagulls for sustenance.

Seven tributes remain when the mutts are released. Long, fat worms with horrible teeth, designed to blend in with the sand. Burrowing beneath the skin and leaching blood from their hosts.

The cannon sounds four times in quick succession, only three tributes left as the hourglass turns. Dumping them onto a thin layer of sand, it continues raining down over them. They’ve run out of time.

The shift twists Tyson’s leg at an unnatural angle, snapping the bones.

“Ahhh!”

Y/N carefully assess the damage.

“It’s bad,” Tyson says, through gritted teeth. “I can’t walk.”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “I’ll find something and make a splint. You’re fine.”

“Y/N, there’s nothing here.” He pants out, fighting the urge to faint.

In some sick way it is for the best, fate has decided for them. He would never be able to kill this girl, anymore than she could kill him. Not after days spent halving their food to keep two bellies half full. No, he could not harm a hair on her head.

“Then I’ll-”

Rex must be out there, searching for them. They need to act fast.

“You have to keep going.”

“No,” Y/N argues. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can, you’re not afraid of anything, remember?” The boy smiles, despite his agony.

“I lied,” Y/N confesses. “I’m scared of being alone.”

“You won’t be alone, I’m right here and everyone back home is with you, Everyone is here, chanting your name. You won’t be alone.”

“Ok,” Y/N whispers, starting up the dune on shaky legs.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” It is silly, but somehow it helps.

The worms are closing in but the compact sand pile seems to derail them. Y/N is thankfully spared the higher she climbs.

Tyson is chopping at the creatures with his axe, keeping them from latching onto his leg despite their best efforts. Perhaps they smell all the blood.

Rex uses the distraction to make a run for the top. He doesn’t bother with the boy from twelve, he won’t last long in this condition. At present, the girl is his biggest threat, and Rex will damned if he spent the better part of his life training only to be bested by a girl from the poorest district in Panem.

“Y/N, look out!” Tyson calls.

She hears the sickening squelch of his axe land in Rex’s back before she has a chance to look at all. “Tyson!” She knows full well it was his last line of defense against the mutts.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Her partner remarks, hauling his mangled leg up the grainy hill.

The boy from one is not willing to wait, he’s out for blood. His chest rattles with each breath, and droplets of red begin to leak from the corners of his mouth. Still he draws his dagger, pointed at Y/N. “Ladies first.”

Her first instinct is to run, but with the arena nearly full and the worms below, she is out of good options. She draws her weapon.

Rex lunges for Y/N, knocking her backwards and landing on top. A cloud of dust blooms out, blinding them both, his dagger lost in the tussle.

She continues swinging at him with her knife until it finally connects with his right hand; slicing off his index, middle and ring fingers, in one clean stroke.

The severed digits land against her chest, weighing her down as the boy looks to his mangled hand in horror.

Y/N’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry.”

Tyson yells. “Don’t stop!” Despite his injuries, he’s clawing his way up to avoid the mutts below.

“Please, I’m sorry.” Y/N sobs. For whatever she’s done to deserve this. Sorry to Rex, and the other tributes, to her family and her district. Sorry to Tyson most of all. “I’m sorry.”

Rex wraps his good hand around her throat.

“Y/N, fight! Do it now.”

Her broken body screams in protest. Sheer adrenaline drives the knife into the side of his neck. His blood burns her sun blistered skin. “I’m sorry.”

Rex grabs for his injury, tumbling down the pile of sand. His cannon sounds before he hits the ground.

Any way you spin it, District Twelve just won the games.

Tyson has finally made his way up to collapse beside her. He’s bleeding a lot more than she is. “We showed him, huh?” The boys chokes out. “Haymitch will have to eat his words.”

Y/N is not a Donner girl, said so herself.

“Tributes, please reclaim your weapons.” A disembodied voice, from the sky, demands.

“That’s alright. Can’t feel my hands.” He can’t feel the mutt latched onto him anymore either. He can’t feel anything at all. “But check out the view from up here.”

Y/N is in no position to heed either command. The too bright sun is going dark, her vision tunneling.

Tyson murmurs, “just like being at the top of Mount-”

Boom.

Everest.

The viewing room erupts into chaos as the winner of the sixtieth Hunger Games is announced. And the dead Donner girl lives to haunt him another day.

For you, sis. I saved her for you.

Part 2

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟏𝟎 |

[ 𝐩𝐫��𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

#1 Rule of Fake Dating: Don’t make it your go-to excuse for everything.

You learned this the hard way after telling Abby you had a ‘date’ to get out of her study session invite. Her eyes widened to proportions you never imagined possible as she gasped and demanded the full story of how you met your soulmate.

Before you could spin a convincing lie, your phone rang. The familiar ringtone makes you smile. For once, you were actually grateful for his annoying ass.

“What’s up, Brooky?”

Cole’s long-suffering sigh nearly makes you burst out laughing. “I’ll buy you a drink if you promise never to call me that again.” 

You bid Abby a hasty wave goodbye, watching her slump back down in disappointment over not getting any juicy details. “Depends on how expensive it is.”

“You do realise that I don’t get paid for my heroism.”

You wince. “That’s so true. You guys should really talk to the mayor about that.”

“Right?” His voice picks up, clearly hitting a sore spot. “I mean, I already feel bad enough living off Cyrus’s goodwill, especially with all of us there.”

Sandwiching your phone between your ear and shoulder, you adjust the bag on your arm and hum in agreement as he continues. “Plus, I don’t know. Master Wu’s insistent on us doing everything for free, but I think the renovation costs might’ve made him reconsider taking on a few private requests.”

“What kind of requests?” You unintentionally tune him out as you exit the university grounds to look for him. Standing on your tiptoes, you scan the crowd. Nothing. You frown, craning your neck in hopes of spotting that familiar mop of black hair. “Where are you?” you mutter, your voice slipping into irritation.

“What was that?”

“I said–”

A firm tap on your shoulder cuts you off. Startled, you spin around and instinctively lash out, your fist connecting with someone’s side.

“Oof!” A pained grunt follows as Cole doubles over, clutching his ribs. Despite his wheezing, he still manages a crooked grin. “Is this how you treat your boyfriend now? Should I be worried?”

“Oh my god!” Your hands fly to your mouth, eyes wide with horror. “I am so sorry! You can’t sneak up on people like that!”

Straightening up, Cole gives you a mock-wounded look, still rubbing his side. “Noted. Next time I’ll announce myself with a trumpet.”

“Good,” you reply, crossing your arms but quickly softening. “You’re okay, though, right?”

“Define ‘okay,’” he teases, but his attention shifts as his gaze flicks over you. His brows furrow. “Uh… are we matching right now?”

You blink, glancing down at your outfit — a brown dress paired with a white bag — before looking back at him. He’s wearing a white shirt and long brown khakis.

It hits you both at the same time.

“No.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

You gape at each other in shared offence.

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head.

Cole narrows his eyes, gesturing between you. “Who’s copying who here?”

“Obviously you copied me,” you reply, placing a hand on your hip.

He snorts, crossing his arms. “Sure, because I definitely planned to match my soulmate’s outfit for a date in public.”

“It’s not a date!” you hiss, glancing around as a few bystanders glance your way with interest.

Cole raises a brow, an all-too-amused smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, so you do admit I’m your soulmate? As in, accepted it?”

You groan, punching his arm lightly. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he says, stepping aside to take your bag. “But at least I’m fashionable.”

“Don’t push it, Brookstone,” you warn, stepping past him. He simply shrugs, an easy grin on his lips when you hand him your bag without a second thought. He slings it onto his shoulder, starting to walk with you. 

“So, where’re we headed?” 

“I’ve got a lesson with Master Wu today, remember?” 

“‘Course I remember,” he huffs with a wounded tone, placing a hand on his heart. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“Okay,” you say, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face Cole. Your tone is calm, but there’s a certain edge to it that makes him pause. “If you’re going to keep up this boyfriend act, then you better be prepared for the consequences.”

Cole raises a brow, clearly amused. “Consequences? Like what? You making me carry your bag for the rest of my life?”

“Worse,” you reply with a smirk, resuming your pace. He follows, though the grin falters ever so slightly. Good. Let him wonder. Let him wonder and forget till the day you fill his entire room with tiny rubber dildos, enough to make an army.

You’re just about to elaborate with another (hopefully) ominous sentence when a familiar voice calls out your name from afar.

You turn to see Holly heading your way, her usual bright energy radiating even from a distance. Next to her is a boy you don’t recognise at first, but when he comes into view you realise he’s the brother you met the other day. 

“Hey,” you greet, waving as they approach. Cole glances at you questioningly but stays quiet.

Holly’s eyes flick to Cole, curious. “Who’s your friend? Is he…?”

You spot the perfect opportunity and take it, turning to Cole with a sickly sweet smile. “Oh, where are my manners?” Taking a step closer, you thread your arm through his. “This is Cole.” You bat your lashes for effect. “My boyfriend.”

The words that leave your mouth feel like poison, and you immediately feel like you’ve taken a nosedive straight into the fiery depths of hell. In your peripheral, you can feel Cole glance at you, his smirk widening.

Bastard.

Holly’s jaw drops. Her brother rolls his eyes at her reaction, crossing his arms. You recall his name starting with an L, trying to scrounge up his name from the tangled ball of yarn you call a memory when he suddenly speaks. 

“Calm down,” he says casually, shrugging like he’s commenting on the weather. “They’re probably just soulmates. You don’t have to make such a big deal out of it.”

Holly scowls, swatting at the hand he’s using to poke her arm. “I know that, Leo. I was just surprised to see her, that’s all.”

The sudden mention of it makes you flinch. Fake dating or not, the fact that the truth is out there in its purest form of the word soulmates is enough to trigger the nerves in your chest. After spending so long denying it, you’re suddenly supposed to accept it?

Leo notices your reaction and shrugs again, unbothered. “Holly told me about you not finding your soulmate. Till now, I guess.” His gaze darts to Cole, “Honestly, it’s not everything people make it out to be. Besides, the whole thing is overrated anyway.”

The ease in his tone catches you completely off guard. For a moment, you forget Cole’s smirk or Holly’s wide eyes. Your lips twitch upward into a small, genuine smile. “You’re not wrong,” you admit softly, meeting his gaze.

Leo’s grin widens ever so slightly. “Glad someone gets it.”

Cole, apparently done being ignored, steps forward and extends his hand. “Cole,” he says, flashing a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Leo takes his hand, shaking it firmly. “Leo. I’m this dumbass’s brother,” he elaborates, gesturing to Holly who looks ready to shove his head into the wall. You wish you could do the same to your fake boyfriend.

Your gaze flickers to their hands, catching the subtle shift in Leo’s expression; a raised brow, the slightest tilt of his head. It’s quick, almost imperceptible, but you see it. Intrigue.

The handshake ends, and Leo steps back, his expression slipping back into its usual nonchalance. Holly doesn’t seem to notice anything as she starts talking to Cole about something you barely register.

“Oh, wait,” you say, digging into your bag. “Do you have Instagram? I should follow you.”

Leo nods, pulling out his phone as you exchange handles. Just as you confirm the follow, Cole’s voice cuts in, laced with over-the-top concern.

“Babe,” he says, the word so dripping with mock affection it’s almost painful. “You’re following another guy on Instagram? I’m starting to feel... jealous.”

You shoot him a side-eye glare that he ignores entirely, his grin widening. You can practically hear the smugness dripping off his words. Fighting the urge to shove him into the nearest wall, you plaster on an exaggerated grin. 

“Jealous?” Leo echoes, smirking slightly.

“Of course,” Cole replies, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer till you’re all but squashed against his chest. His very broad, muscular chest. “My Snugglebug here doesn’t just hand out her Instagram to anyone, you know.”

Snugglebug. 

I’m going to kill him. Slowly. Painfully.

“Oh, but my love,” you say, voice sugary sweet as you lean into him, batting your eyelashes. “Don’t be jealous. You’re the only one for me.”

Cole’s smirk falters for a split second, and you know you’ve struck a nerve.

“Good,” he replies, recovering quickly. “Because I was thinking of getting us matching Instagram bios. Something like, ‘Forever & Always’.”

Holly bursts into laughter, while Leo watches with what you can only describe as amused bewilderment.

“Oh, that’s adorable,” you coo, patting his cheek. “But I was thinking something simpler. Like, ‘My Rock’.”

“Perfect,” Cole echoes, his voice dripping with mischief as he gently tilts your chin to face him. “I’ll change mine to ‘My Light’.”

Oh. Oh, he’s dead.

Holly clutches her stomach, still laughing, while Leo shakes his head. “You two are... something,” he mutters, his tone dripping with amusement.

You force a smile, plotting Cole’s imminent demise. “Aren’t we just?”

Cole squeezes your shoulder lightly. “The best couple, right?”

“Oh, come on,” Holly finally bursts out, half-laughing. “You two are insufferably cute.”

“Cute,” Leo echoes, though the shit-eating grin on his face makes you want to bury yourself six feet under and pray no one ever comes to your funeral. Scratch that, no funeral needed for your demise.

You step away from Cole, letting his arm drop, and shoot him a glare that promises retribution. He just grins back, smug as ever.

“Let’s go,” you mutter, grabbing your bag from him and stalking past Holly and Leo.

Behind you, you hear Cole chuckle softly. “Anything for you, Snugglebug.”

You don’t look back, but the intense heat in your cheeks are enough to tell you he’s won this round. 

It’s only after you board the bus after waiting for ten minutes, hike up the mountain stairs (you’d gotten used to it at this point), and stormed past a perplexed Zane to grab some water and chug it down that you finally deign Cole with a scathing glare after the agony of silence.

“What’s wrong Snugglebug?” The bastard’s as smug as ever, leaning against the counter with a knowing smile. He tilts his head innocently, though his eyes gleam with mischief. “Did you want to take it to the next level? Change our Facebook status to ‘Taken’, perhaps?”

If not for the fact that the glass you’re drinking out of being classified as monastery property, you would’ve hurled it at his head without hesitation. Instead, you take a deep breath, set the glass down with no more than a soft clink, and plaster the tiniest smile on your lips. 

“Cole?”

He’s wary now. You take a step toward him, the very picture of serenity when he suddenly takes a step back, slowly moving away to the other side of the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” You ask sweetly, watching him awkwardly smile back in response as his arm scrambles for something behind his back. “What’re you looking for, Cole?” 

“Nothing,” he says, though you pick up on the smallest of trembles in his voice. “Just… loving how relaxed and completely okay with everything you are. Have I ever told you that you’re the best out of all of us?”

“Not at all,” you hum, stepping closer and closer to him until he’s flattened himself to the refrigerator door, looking down at you hesitantly. “The best, you say?” 

“Mmhm.” He nods slowly, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Your lips twitch ever so slightly, lifting your hand up. His eyes widen, gaze fixated on your hand as it swings down toward him.

And lands on his shoulder in the form of a gentle pat. 

“Okay.” He watches you move away, heading to the sink to wash the empty glass. “I’m gonna go to Master Wu’s class now. You’re on bodyguard duty for the whole week, right?” 

You can sense how flustered he is when he mumbles out confirmation, turning around and watching him stiffen noticeably when your eyes meet his. “Sounds good!” You chirp, placing the rinsed glass onto the dishrack and leaving the kitchen without another word.

— — — — — — 

“Here’re the rubber... ducks you ordered.” 

Zane holds out a small, nondescript package. His tone is neutral, but the slightest tilt of his head gives away his curiosity.

It had been two days since the whole fake boyfriend debacle with Holly and Leo, with Cole behaving more quietly ever since you cornered him against the fridge. He’d laid low, keeping jokes to himself and bristling each time you sent an emotionless smile in his direction.

But this morning, he’d seemed back to his old self, slipping in snarky little comments about your relationship. 

Earth Ninja or not, you were thisclose to snapping the next time he referred to you as Babezilla in front of Kai.

But right now, you have more important things to focus on. Like the package in Zane’s hands.

“Thanks!” You say, grabbing the bag from him and clutching it to your chest like it’s some precious heirloom whilst grinning like an absolute madman.

Zane doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He just... stares. His eyes linger on the tightly wrapped block in your arms. You’re pretty sure if you poked him he’d teeter right before falling.

You can practically see the gears turning in his head, calculating every possible reason for your delivery. When his eyes narrow ever so slightly, you know you’re dangerously close to being interrogated.

You pat his shoulder, offering him your best reassuring smile. “Don’t ask.”

He blinks, his head tilting further. “But I wasn’t—”

“Don’t.”

Zane lets it go, though the way his brow furrows suggests this will remain an unsolved mystery he’ll revisit later.

Fat chance, my guy.

Clutching the bag tighter, you make your way toward Cole’s room. His music isn’t blasting through your head like it usually does when he’s nearby, a sure sign he’s out on patrol. Perfect.

As you reach his door, you take a deep breath, preparing for the task at hand. Operation Dildo Baggins was officially a go. You’d been sitting on this idea for a while with no official target, and now, with Cole’s recent antics (antics being the kindest possible way to describe the utter humiliation and embarrassment you’d been subject to with nicknames like Snugglebug, Babezilla, and worst of all…Babycakes), it felt like the perfect time to strike.

Slipping inside, you survey the space. His room is a mess, but it’s a mess you can oddly appreciate. Weights in one corner, a pile of laundry in another, and his bed unmade. The mattress practically has a Cole-shaped indent in it, while pillows lay haphazardly around.

You pull out the bag and unzip it, grinning at the contents. Tiny, brightly colored rubber dildos, all varying in size, shape, and shade. Some even had glitter. A stroke of genius, if you said so yourself.

Now, where to start?

You’re halfway through Operation Dildo Baggins when a sharp inhale makes you freeze. You slowly turn, expecting to be busted by Cole himself, when you see a wide-eyed Jay and Kai in the doorway.

Jay’s lips are parted, his gaze darting to the opened package on the floor, where its contents are spilling out, while Kai stands there with his arms crossed, one brow arched in silent amusement.

You glance from the sparkly pink palm-sized dildo in your hands to the two of them, trying to form a coherent explanation. 

“...It’s not what it looks like.”

Jay erupts into a fit of giggles, pressing himself against the open door while he chokes on a shaky inhale. Kai steps inside, admiring your handiwork. You relent. 

“Okay, it’s exactly what it looks like,” you relent, stepping down from the footstool you’re using to hide one of them above the closet. “It’s revenge. Or as I like to call it, Operation Dildo Baggins.”

Jay lets out an absolutely unhinged wheeze, sliding down the door frame as he laughs uncontrollably. “Dildo Baggins?” he chokes out between gasps. “That’s — oh my god — that’s genius.”

Kai strolls in, folding his arms as he surveys the chaos of tiny rubber dildos strewn across Cole’s room. “So,” he drawls with a smirk, “does this have anything to do with you being called–”

“Don’t,” you cut in sharply, jabbing a finger at him before he can utter the cursed nickname. Your glare is enough to make him pause. “I still have a coupon for another bag.”

He wisely shuts up.

“Anyway,” you continue, clutching the sparkly pink offender in your hand, “if you two idiots are here, you might as well help.”

Jay perks up immediately, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, I am so in,” he says, practically bouncing as he steps over to inspect the pile, picking up a few he deems worthy. Kai shrugs, amused, and picks one up, flipping it idly in his hand.

“Alright,” you announce, “we’ve got to be smart about this. No obvious spots. Think subtle, think devious.”

Jay nods enthusiastically, like you’re outlining the master plan to a heist. “Subtle and devious. Got it.” Then, with an impish grin, he holds up Cole’s clear shower gel bottle, tilting it slightly to reveal the viscous blue liquid inside. “Ooooh, this is a good spot.”

You gape at him. “Jay–”

Before you can finish, he unscrews the cap and carefully slides in a few glittery dildos, where they sink and swirl lazily in the gel like the most ridiculous snow globe. He beams proudly.

“Perfect,” he declares, holding it up like a trophy.

Kai snorts. “That’s evil.”

You groan, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Teamwork truly does make the dream work,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small grin tugging at your lips as you snatch the bottle back and shove it into Cole’s shower bag.

“Focus, team,” you say, regaining your composure. “We’ve still got plenty more to hide.”

Kai tosses a dildo into the air, catching it with ease. “I call dibs on his sock drawer.”

Jay claps his hands together, rubbing them like an evil mastermind. “And I’ve got ideas for his weights.”

You’re fairly certain you’ve assembled the worst accomplices in history, or maybe the best. Either way, the amount of gleeful scurrying, whispered plotting, and the sheer evil glint in their eyes makes you think you’ve found your partners-in-crime for life. Operation Dildo Baggins had been an unparalleled success.

By the time you’re done, it’s time to unwind in the game room, the massive TV already aglow with the chaos of Overcooked’s cartoonish kitchen. Jay thrusts a controller into your hands while Kai rummages through the kitchen for snacks. They’d insisted you stay for dinner, and honestly, how could you refuse? A day of dildo-hiding makes a girl hungry.

“Okay, new plan,” Jay says, resetting the level for the third time. “You stay on cooking duty. I’ll chop, Kai delivers. We’ve got this.”

“Pretty sure you said that the last two times,” you deadpan, cracking your knuckles and adjusting your grip on the controller. “And yet, here we are.”

Kai returns with a bowl of chips, plopping down beside you. “Third time’s the charm,” he says, tossing a chip in his mouth. “Now stop arguing and start chopping.”

The game begins, and chaos ensues. You’re barking orders like a drill sergeant. “Jay, the tomatoes! KAI, THAT PLATE IS BURNT. WHY IS IT BURNT?!”

Jay is in another fit of giggles as he accidentally throws a perfectly good onion into the trash. “It slipped!”

“HOW DOES AN ONION SLIP?!”

“Guys, calm down–” Kai starts, but you cut him off, voice rising in desperation. “No calming! DELIVERY! We need that plate out NOW or we fail again!”

The door opens behind you, but you’re too focused on the timer ticking down and the chaos on the screen to look. The sound of a water bottle being uncapped and a few long gulps makes you hyper-aware of his presence, though. Not to mention the fact that you’d heard the faint melody of his usual playlist approaching the monastery which had made you accidentally throw away a good pot of cooked rice.

Cole.

You can feel his gaze on you, but there’s no time to address him. Not when Jay’s standing in the middle of the screen holding a pot and doing nothing useful.

“Jay, fuck off! Kai, DELIVER THE PLATE!”

“I’m trying!” Kai protests, nearly tipping over his drink in real life as he frantically mashes buttons.

It’s no use. The timer runs out, and the screen flashes a giant FAILED in bright red letters. You drop your controller with a groan, leaning back against the couch.

“That’s it. I’m done. You two are hopeless.”

“Hey,” Jay protests, “I’m great under pressure! Just… not in a fake kitchen.”

“You’d starve if we ever got trapped on a deserted island,” you mutter, reaching for a chip.

“Looks like you’ve got everything under control here.”

Finally, you glance over your shoulder. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, his water bottle in hand, watching you with that infuriating smirk. Also, he was wearing a sleeveless tank top which, you hate to admit it, looked good on him. But also, his arms had the slightest sheen of sweat. 

In conclusion, gross and yucky.

“Care to back that up with action, or are you just here to talk shit get hit?” you shoot back, crossing your arms.

“Oh, I’d destroy you,” he replies smoothly, taking another swig of water.

You snort. “Please. You’d fold under pressure faster than Jay did when I asked him to deliver a plate.”

“Hey!” Jay protests, only to pause. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Cole chuckles, setting his water bottle on a nearby table. “You sure about that? I’ve got quick reflexes and perfect hand-eye coordination. I’d mop the floor with you, just like I did when we sparred.”

“Big talk for someone who hasn’t even touched the controller,” you retort, a spark of competitive energy flaring up in your chest. “Also, I totally let you win.”

“Oh, this I’ve got to see,” Jay interjects, scrambling to set the game to player-versus-player mode. He tosses a controller to Cole, who catches it effortlessly.

“I’m not kidding,” Cole adds as he strides toward the couch. “You’re about to witness greatness.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you scoff. “Hope you’re ready to eat my dust.”

Before you can say another word, Cole leaps over the back of the sofa in one fluid motion, landing right beside you. You blink, startled by the sheer grace of it, but quickly mask it with a scoff.

“Fancy moves won’t save you here, Brooky boy,” you mutter, gripping your controller tightly.

“Oh, I don’t need fancy moves to beat you,” he says, leaning slightly closer, his smirk infuriatingly confident. You shove him away with disgust, suddenly aware of how close you are. Before you can move away, however, Kai makes himself comfortable and manspreads. You roll your eyes.

“Bring it,” you reply easily, choosing your avatar.

Jay, already giggling in anticipation, hits start. “Let the carnage begin!”

The match starts, and the game becomes a blur of chaotic, fast-paced action. Your fingers move furiously over the buttons as you fight to keep up with Cole’s surprisingly sharp gameplay.

“You’re getting slow,” he taunts, the familiar chime of bells signalling completed orders going off non-stop for both sides.

“Slow?” you hiss, eyes narrowing. “I’m just warming up.”

Kai leans back with a laugh, munching on chips. “This is better than TV.”

For a moment, your eyes dart to your competitor. Cole’s leaning slightly forward, his full focus on the screen, brows furrowed in concentration. The corner of his mouth twitches upward, that stupid smirk never quite leaving.

Then, it hits you. The scent.

It’s faint at first, but the more you notice it, the stronger it becomes. A warm blend of spiced cinnamon and vanilla, rich and inviting, like stepping into your kitchen during Christmas to sneak a few cups of hot chocolate with your mother. A pang of nostalgia washes over you, unbidden and completely out of place. You shake your head slightly, trying to ignore how oddly comforting it feels.

How does he smell this good when he hasn’t even showered yet?

Your avatar stumbles on screen, moving erratically as you remain stuck in that memory. Cole notices instantly.

“Losing your touch already?” he snorts, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

The sound of his voice yanks you back to the moment. “What? No!” you snap, glaring at him as you hastily mash buttons to catch up.

“Sure looks like it,” he teases, that insufferable grin widening.

Without thinking, you shove him with your shoulder. He barely budges, laughing as he nudges you back. Your heart is racing in your chest, though you quickly chalk it up to the pressure of the game. 

The timer on the screen counts down to the final seconds, and your competitive streak kicks into overdrive. Your fingers fly across the controller as you focus all your energy on completing as many orders as possible. The kitchen on screen is pure chaos with ingredients on every inch of floor space, chopped cucumbers everywhere, pots almost overboiling, but somehow, you’re thriving in it.

Also, a part of it is on fire but with five seconds left, you’re prioritizing getting the food out rather than extinguish it.

“Come on, you’ve got this!” Jay cheers, leaning forward in excitement.

“Not a chance in hell,” Cole counters, his tone light but determined.

With a final flurry of button-mashing, the round ends. The results start to tally, both of you subconsciously leaning forward in anticipation. When the screen reveals you’d beaten him by two completed orders, a triumphant cry tears itself from your throat.

“I am unstoppable!” you declare, throwing your arms up like you’ve just claimed the title of world champion.

Jay hits a button on the controller, triggering cheers from the speakers. Kai sets off a party popper he somehow produces on cue. Confetti rains down, and you take a mock bow, basking in your victory.

Cole leans back on the sofa, swirling his water bottle in one hand, a soft grin playing at his lips. “You’re really proud of yourself, huh?”

“Obviously,” you say, spinning around to face him. “Beating you at anything is worth celebrating.”

His grin widens, and there’s a flicker of something in his gaze. Amusement, sure, but also a hint of challenge. “It was beginner’s luck.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Excuse me? I’ve been playing this longer than you’ve been doing your ninja stuff.”

“I’m just saying,” he drawls, sitting up straighter. “If we played again, I’d wipe the floor with you.”

Kai lets out a low whistle. “Oh, he’s laying it down now.”

Jay, grinning from ear to ear, grabs another controller. “This I have to see.”

Your eyes narrow at Cole, your competitive streak kicking into overdrive. “Fine. Rematch. But let’s make it interesting.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What, like a bet?”

“Winner gets to change the loser’s contact name for them. No swapping, no amendments. The name has to be kept and can only be changed through official Overcooked Betting.” 

Cole eyes the hand you put forth, waiting patiently for him to shake it and accept the terms. 

He takes it.

The stakes are set, controllers gripped, and tension hangs in the air as the rematch begins. The sound of clattering plates and sizzling pans fills the room, each of you hyper-focused on the chaos of the Overcooked kitchen. You’re determined to hold onto your victory streak, while Cole, equally motivated, keeps throwing glances your way, his smirk bordering on smug.

“Focus on your side, Cole,” you snap, dodging his attempt to distract you as his elbow inches closer to your ribcage. You swat it away with your arm, using the side of your head to bonk his shoulder.

“Multitasking is my specialty,” he shoots back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Cole stealing glances at you between frantic moves, his expression equal parts focused and amused. You push harder, refusing to let him win.

Jay and Kai are on the edge of their seats, munching snacks as if watching the most gripping movie of the year.

When the final seconds tick down and the scores flash on the screen, you let out a loud groan. He’d beaten you by one order.

“No!” you cry, dropping the controller in defeat.

The tension leaves his body, relaxing against the couch with the air of an accomplished man. “Hand it over.” He puts his hand out to you, palm side up. You eye it, wondering if it’d be too late to order more rubber dildos. 

“A bet’s a bet,” Kai reminds from beside you. Groaning, you fish out your phone from your pockets and toss it into his hand. He unlocks it easily, having seen your password before during another study session where he’d kept himself occupied with books while you furiously rushed an overdue essay. 

With every ominous tap tap tap of his fingers against the screen, you bristle. His expression is infuriatingly focused, as if he’s crafting a masterpiece.

When he hands your phone back, you snatch it and glance at the new contact name. Your eyes widen in horror.

He’d changed the contact name from ‘Cole Brookstone - Ninja’ to ‘Cole <3’. It’s so simple, yet the heart he’d added after his name makes you wince. Your fingers ache, inching toward the edit icon before he hums disapprovingly. 

“Can’t change it,” he remarks offhandedly, peering down at his nails with a frown. You can see the corners of his lips struggling to remain turned down, knowing full well the bastard is busy laughing his ass off internally. “You made the rules, not me.”

“Fuck you.” 

“You wish.” His childish retort eggs you on, and you stick your tongue out childishly in turn. He makes a face, only to stop when you raise a fist and hit his side - lightly. He groans in exaggerated pain, clutching his waist. 

“How could you, Babycakes?” 

Jay’s loud gasp makes the heat rush to your face and coloring your ears crimson, narrowing your eyes. You can practically see Jay’s expression as he files away this juicy tidbit for later use.

“You did not just call me that,” you hiss, jabbing your finger at Cole’s chest.

“What? It’s your nickname for me,” he says innocently, though his eyes gleam with mischief. “Thought I’d return the favor.”

“That was not my nickname for you!” you snap. “It was–”

“Oh, I know,” Cole interrupts, cutting you off with a smirk. “It was ‘Cole Brookstone – Ninja.’ So professional. So... boring. I thought we meant more to each other than that.” He blinks innocently as he looks at you, his smile bordering on evil.

“Boring?” you echo, your tone dangerously low.

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, like he isn’t goading you on purpose. “No creativity, no flair. Just straight-up boring.”

Your jaw drops, and you lean forward, pointing a finger at him. “Excuse me? You don’t get to talk about creativity when you put a heart after your own name. How is that not boring?”

“It’s not boring because it’s cute,” he counters smugly. “And admit it, you winced because you thought it was cute too.”

You open your mouth to retort, but Kai’s voice cuts through the bickering before you can let loose a string of curses you’re pretty sure would’ve gotten you banned from being around the monastery’s classes for elementary students.

“Okay, enough.” He steps between the two of you, holding up his hands like a referee breaking up a particularly petty fight. Also, he’d somehow produced two yellow uno cards from seemingly thin air, waving it at you both in warning. “You’re acting like toddlers fighting over crayons.”

“He started it,” you grumble, folding your arms.

Cole snorts. “Oh, grow up, Pumpkin Pie.”

Kai sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, as you part your lips to fire back, he glances at you, a meaningful look in his eyes that reminds you of your earlier enacted revenge.

So, you press your lips together, taking a deep breath. Think mini dildos hidden in his pillow. Think glittery ones floating in his shower gel.

Suddenly, all the tension leaves your body, and you open your eyes with a serene smile.

Cole notices the change instantly, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “What’s that face?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say calmly, turning away from him with a shrug. “Just decided to be a good sport and a role model for the younger generation.”

Kai catches the edge of your smirk and shakes his head, muttering, “You two are exhausting. Not even Nya was this much trouble growing up.”

Cole watches you carefully for a moment longer before relaxing back into the sofa, though the wary look doesn’t completely leave his face. “You’re up to something,” he mutters.

“Maybe I am,” you reply, not bothering to deny it. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

He frowns, aout to say something before you’re interrupted by Zane walking into the room wearing an apron that’s an almost offensive shade of bright pink. You have to double check to make sure you’re not just seeing things. 

“Dinner is ready,” Zane announces before scanning your faces. “Have I interrupted something?” 

No one moves or responds. The mention of food acts like a switch flipping in everyone’s heads.

“Nah, you’re good buddy,” Kai groans, standing and stretching dramatically. “I’m starving.”

“Same,” Jay says, bounding after him. He throws a playful arm around Kai’s shoulders as they head for the dining room. 

You follow at a more leisurely pace, Cole casually falling into step beside you. Neither of you speaks, the earlier bickering melting into a comfortable silence as the scent of freshly baked bread and herbs fills the air.

When you reach the dining room, the table is set with steaming dishes spread across it. Master Wu, Nya, Lloyd, and Pixal are already seated, pausing their discussion when you all enter. 

For a moment, you notice the way Master Wu and Lloyd change their grave expressions into a wide smile, though there’s still a solemn tint to their eyes. Part of you bristles, but curiosity is easily buried by hunger. 

Without a second thought, you and Cole gravitate to seats next to each other. It’s unconscious, natural, and nobody comments on it outright, though Nya raises an eyebrow as she glances between the two of you.

You happen to look up and meet her gaze, raising a brow in silent question. She just smiles and looks away to chat with Jay.

“Wow,” Lloyd says, leaning forward to inspect the spread. “Zane, you’ve outdone yourself. Again.”

“Is that herb-crusted salmon?” you ask, practically drooling.

“And garlic knots,” Cole adds, pointing to a heaping basket.

“Correct,” Zane replies with a slight bow of his head. “I’ve also prepared a vegetable medley with a lemon-butter glaze and rosemary roasted potatoes.”

“It smells amazing,” you say, eagerly reaching for a garlic knot.

“Smells amazing?” Cole laughs as he piles his plate high with potatoes. “It looks like a five-star restaurant in here. Zane, you’re spoiling us.”

“Preparing meals for my friends is not spoiling,” Zane replies evenly. “It is an expression of care.”

“You’re the best, Zane,” Lloyd says, already chewing on a piece of salmon. “Seriously, I don’t think I could go back to eating instant noodles after this.”

“Not with Zane around,” Pixal chimes in, a small smile tugging at her lips. “He would somehow make them gourmet.”

Jay leans toward you, whispering theatrically, “Don’t let him fool you. Zane’s just trying to make sure we can’t eat anywhere else without missing him.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Nya teases, nudging Jay with her elbow.

“Not complaining,” you quip, popping a piece of garlic knot into your mouth and groaning. “Oh my god, this is ridiculous. Zane, how do you make everything taste so good?”

“Precision,” Zane answers simply.

Cole nods, as if Zane’s simple explanation made more impact than any of Master Wu’s advice ever did. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Zane is the kitchen ninja.”

“More like the ninja chef,” Nya says, smirking.

“Or the ninja of nourishment,” Lloyd adds, earning a snort from Jay.

Master Wu chuckles softly, his hand resting on his teacup. “It is good to see you all enjoying yourselves. Bonding over food is an ancient tradition.”

“Especially when the food is this good,” Cole says, digging into his plate with gusto.

“Damn, leave some for the rest of us,” Nya says. You can only stare with begrudging respect as she spears a roasted potato off of Cole’s plate with a cartoonishly long fork that extends to his plate without the need of standing up. She catches you looking at it, grinning widely as she pops the stolen goods into her mouth. “Like it?” She asks through mouthfuls, carefully waving it around. “Crafted it in the workshop today.”

“Hey!” he protests, but it’s half-hearted. 

“Sharing is caring,” Pixal says lightly, passing a dish to Lloyd, who is too focused on his meal to notice her amused smile.

You scoff playfully. “Not with these potatoes. If you guys aren’t fast enough, I might empty the whole thing.” Glancing over when you feel a nudge, you roll your eyes at Cole’s earnest gaze. “Fine, I suppose you can have a piece.”

Kai gags. “The couple are so sweet it’s disgusting.”

“Not a couple,” You and Cole automatically reply in sync, shovelling more food into your mouths and munching. You don’t have to lift your head to see the sceptical glances exchanged, putting aside your usual snarky replies to focus purely on enjoying every bite of Zane’s cooking. 

“You wonderful, wonderful man-droid.” You mumble out between bites. Zane nods his head in humble thanks, Cole muttering a similar sentiment. 

The rest of the meal passes in a flurry of light-hearted jabs and never-ending enthusiastic praise for Zane’s culinary talents (all of which which the man-droid rightfully deserves). Plates were cleared, dishes stacked, and as the group slowly disbanded to their own devices, you found yourself lingering in the quiet warmth of the dining room, helping Master Wu wipe down the table.

“Thank you for letting me stay for dinner so often,” you said, glancing at him with a soft smile. “And for letting me hang out at the monastery so much. It’s… nice to be here.”

Master Wu paused mid-swipe, his wise eyes crinkling with warmth. “The monastery welcomes those who find comfort within its walls.”

You tilted your head at his cryptic tone, sensing there was more to his words. “That’s… oddly specific.”

He chuckled softly, folding the cloth in his hands. “You are exactly where you are meant to be, young one. Even if the reason has not fully revealed itself yet.”

You frown, your brows knitting together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He gives you a knowing look, one that somehow carries both gravity and lightness. “You will understand when the time is right.”

Before you can press further, the sound of footsteps draws your attention. Cole appears in the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets with a relaxed grin.

“Ready to head out?” he asked, his voice casual but his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long.

You glance back at Master Wu, who merely nodded as if to say the conversation was over.

For now, that is.

“Yeah,” you say, grabbing your jacket and stepping toward Cole. “Thanks again, Master Wu.”

“It is always a pleasure to have you here,” he replies with a small bow, his tone warm. “Safe travels.”

Cole holds the door open for you as you step out into the cool evening air. Comfortable silence falls over you both like a warm blanket, walking toward the doors. The stars twinkle above, and there are barely any clouds above you both to obstruct the view. 

One of the perks of living on the peak of a mountain, you suppose.

“Did Wu drop one of his cryptic wisdom bombs on you?” He asks after a beat, his tone teasing.

You huff in amusement. “Something like that.” You pause, tugging your jacket. “Do you ever understand all that weird cryptic stuff he sometimes spouts? Just last week he was telling me about not jumping out of a well.”

Your response elicits a laugh from him, the sound deep and easy. You find yourself smiling at it, a warmth in your chest as you look at him. “Honestly?” He sighs, hands deep in his pockets as you make your way down the stairs. “I just smile and nod, then just hope I’ll figure it out somehow.”

“Really?” Your interest is piqued. “How about when you saved the world and all that? Couldn’t have done it without deciphering his mysterious sayings.” 

He grins. “You should’ve seen the way we were all racking our brains, trying to understand what he was saying. It was worse at the start, before we all knew Lloyd was the Green Ninja.”

“Worse? How?” you ask, your curiosity pushing a teasing smile to your lips as you both reach the end of the stairs and make your way over to the bus stop.

Cole shakes his head, his grin widening. “We were clueless, running around like headless chickens. Wu would drop some riddle about balance or destiny, and the rest of us would argue for hours about what it meant. There was this one time–” He breaks off, laughing to himself.

“What?” you prod, nudging his arm gently.

“There was this one time Wu told us we had to ‘look inward to find the strength to move forward.’” He mimics Wu’s calm tone, his expression mock-serious. “So naturally, Kai thought it meant we needed to meditate or something. He sat us all down in a circle and tried to lead a group meditation. Jay couldn’t stop cracking jokes, and Nya fell asleep within five minutes.”

You burst out laughing at the image. “What about you?”

“I just sat there thinking about how hungry I was,” he admits, shaking his head with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Turns out, all Wu meant was that we needed to believe in ourselves. But, you know, saying that plainly wouldn’t be very ‘Master Wu.’”

“Of course not,” you agree, grinning. “Mystical vagueness is his brand.”

As the two of you reach the bus stop, you glance at him. “So… did all his cryptic advice ever help? Like, for real?”

Cole nods, his expression softening as he looks at you. “Yeah, it did. Sometimes not right away, but it always made sense when it mattered most. Like when we were trying to stop the Great Devourer… or when we were facing the Overlord. Those were times when his words stuck with us, even if we didn’t get them at first.”

The bus pulls up, and the two of you step on. Cole fumbles briefly, patting his pockets with a furrowed brow before finally pulling his transit pass from his back pocket. “When you travel by dragon, bus passes don’t exactly come to mind,” he mumbles defensively. You roll your eyes with a playful smile as you both settle into seats near the back. As the city lights blur past the window, you glance at him again, catching the thoughtful look on his face.

“What about you?” you ask, leaning slightly toward him. “Was there ever a moment where something Wu said clicked for you?”

He smiles, but it’s a little more subdued this time. “Yeah. Back when we were stuck in the Cursed Realm, Wu told me, ‘A leader doesn’t just carry others; they let themselves be carried, too.’”

You tilt your head, intrigued. “What did that mean?”

“It meant I didn’t have to do everything alone,” he says quietly. “Back then, I felt like I had to shoulder everything for the team. But Wu was right. Being a leader means letting the people around you support you, too.”

You let the thought sit for a moment, then give him a small smile. “Sounds like solid advice.”

“It was,” he agrees, glancing at you with a faint smile of his own. “Even if it took me a while to figure out.”

The two of you share a quiet moment, the conversation lulling into another comfortable silence as the bus hums along. It’s only when you notice his reflection in the window with his expression relaxed, the corners of his lips slightly curved… You feel the odd warmth in your chest again.

“Thanks for sharing,” you say softly, your voice barely above the hum of the engine.

He glances at you, his grin returning, playful now. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not usually this talkative.”

“Oh, I won’t,” you reply, smirking. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin your mysterious tough-guy image.”

The bus finally reaches your stop and the both of you tap out. Your apartment building is within view, but a part of you lingers, your footsteps slower as you approach. “Got any plans for next Saturday?” 

You hum in thought. “Only to pick up the cake I ordered a while back.”

“Oh. I’ll tag along.” You glance at him, mildly surprised at the statement. He catches your look, raising his brows in question. “I gotta stock up on croissants. It’s been ages since I had some of his cinnamon rolls too.”

“Where do you even find the space for all that and not gain weight?” You ask, though it’s more to yourself in jealousy than an actual question. Unfortunately, he hears it.

“Having a gym in-house does wonders when you can’t sleep.” His voice is tinged with something you recognise instantly — sorrow. You’re about to ask, but decide against it when you see the look on his face. 

“You can pick me up in the afternoon then,” you say lightly, looking at a random streetlight. He hums in agreement. “And let’s try not to match again.”

That gets a chuckle. “Don’t you mean ‘try not to copy me’?” 

“You’re impossible.”

The lift is only a few paces away. You feel him stop, turning to see one hand shoved into his jacket pocket, the other hanging loose at his side. His posture seems effortless, but there’s something steady about it, like he’s rooted to the spot. The faint light from the hallway catches the curve of his smile, his gaze soft and lingering, almost bordering on fond as he looks at you.

“Goodnight, Snugglebug.”

Scoffing, you enter the lift and press the button to your floor. “Goodnight, Brookstone.”

For tonight, you’ll let him get away with this one.

— — — — — — 

It’s around midnight by the time Cole reaches the monastery. He’d taken his time on the way back, stopping by a convenience store to pick up some pre-cooked chicken breast, planning to microwave one as a snack after tonight’s gym session.

He grabs his headphones from the lounge but pauses, setting them back down onto the table. 

She’d probably be asleep by now, right?

He leaves without his headphones, entering the gym where Lloyd is busy doing his usual sets. Both of them were the more regular visitors, having encountered the other far too many times at odd hours to instinctively understand the dark rings under their eyes and haunted tinge in their gaze. 

“So,” Lloyd breaks the silence, glancing over as he lowers the speed on his treadmill. “Your soulmate, huh?”

Cole exhales sharply, the weight of the question hitting heavier than the bench press he’d just finished. He’d been waiting for Lloyd to bring it up but didn’t expect it to be now, in the middle of their usual workout session. “Yeah. We’re not exactly eager about it either,” he says, walking over to the bench and starting a few stretches. His tone is casual, but there’s a hint of tension in his shoulders. “It won’t impact my duties.”

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting that.” Lloyd raises his hands in assurance, though his thoughtful gaze is now fixed on his teammate. “I’m just saying, it must be exciting, right? Meeting the person you’re supposedly destined to be with.”

Cole snorts, shaking his head. “Destined. Right.” He shifts his position, stretching out his arms. “It’s not like that. We’re just... soulmates in name. That’s it.”

Lloyd hops off the treadmill, grabbing a towel as he narrows his eyes at Cole. “Sure doesn’t seem like it’s just a label.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cole asks, arching a brow.

Lloyd shrugs, leaning casually against the nearby wall. “I mean, you’re... different around her. Like when you got all defensive when Kai tried to eat her fries the other night.”

“She was clearly going to eat them!” Cole protests, the words spilling out faster than he intended.

“And how you knew her favorite bubble tea order?” Lloyd adds with a sly grin.

Cole freezes for a second before recovering with a huff. “She mentioned it once.”

“Uh-huh.” Lloyd tilts his head, his smile widening. “And that time you made sure to save her a spot during movie night, claiming it was ‘just coincidence’ when she showed up?”

“Coincidence,” Cole insists, though the tips of his ears are turning pink.

Lloyd’s smile falters, his expression softening. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” Cole mutters, crossing his arms defensively.

“How much you notice about her.” Lloyd’s voice is quiet but steady. “The little details. The way you remember stuff she’s only said once, or how you pay attention to what makes her laugh or what annoys her. It’s not just about being soulmates, Cole. You care about her, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t—”

“Last week, when she complained about being cold, you handed her your jacket without thinking,” Lloyd cuts in, raising a brow. “No one even asked you to. And don’t tell me that’s just duty or being polite.”

For a moment, Cole doesn’t say anything, his jaw tightening as he looks away. “It’s... nothing. She’s part of the team. That’s all.”

Lloyd lets out a soft laugh, pushing off the wall. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, man. Just don’t wait too long to figure it out. Soulmate or not, people don’t stay in one place forever.”

Cole scowls at his retreating back. “For the record, this is worse than when Master Wu tried giving us the talk about the birds and the bees.”

He can vaguely make out the casual “deal with it” that Lloyd remarks as he turns a corner. Rolling his eyes, he shoves all lingering remnants of their conversation into the back of his head before continuing his workout.

After two more hours pass, he finally decides he’s had enough, heading to the kitchen where he’d dropped off his chicken breast from earlier, waiting for the microwave to heat up when he spots a text from you that he’d missed.

He picks it up, reading it before his brows furrow in confusion.

What’s a Dildo Baggins?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Taglist: @candyquokka @mossy-mika @em-100-blog @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viennasthings @cadencannot @ml3czqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-moonlight @jebesovovise @ryeheep @letthelightin2112 @classically-bored @clearlawyereaglewobbler @anajellyc @the-midnight-duck @fru1ty-bage3ls @elysiuansstuff

[kissorkill16]

Not All Creeps Are Bad Guys: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: The title says it all.

Nicky stood up and grabbed onto Mr. Murtaugh's lab coat, pulling him forward. Murtaugh was a little frightened seeing the boy look at him with angry eyes, but those eyes looked less angry and more desperate.

"Let her out!", Nicky growled. "Let her out, Murtaugh!"

"I can't, dear.", said the science teacher. "That monster and a bunch of other people are the reason for so many deaths and disappearances in this town, I was almost one of them, and so were all of your friends."

"Let. Her. Out!"

Murtaugh sat Nicky back down on the chair and tightly held his shoulder.

"How about we make a deal?", he said. "I'll let her out of the basement if you tell me the names of the rest of the cultists. How does that sound?"

"Absolutely not!", said Nicky, "I can't! It's bad enough that all of my friends are onto us, and if I tell you -"

"I won't say a word to anyone else, dear. Not even your friends."

The anger in Nicky's eyes completely faded, and now it was just desperation. "Really?"

"Nicholas, we may not have been on the same page about anything. I made you and all of my students fear me, and you were the only one who kept pushing my buttons no matter the consequences.", said the science teacher, "And you saved me and Ivan from nearly getting killed, the least I can do for you is keep this one secret. If you give me all of the names of the cultists, I'll let her out, and I won't breathe a word about this to anyone."

He extended his hand. "Deal?"

Nicky was hesitant, but he shook his hand. "Deal."

"Brilliant.", said the science teacher. "Now..."

Nicky sighed and began telling Mr. Murtaugh all of the cultists names. Pretty soon, Murtaugh had a whole list of the cultists names right in his notebook.

Valeria Abanate.

Mayor Marvin Tavish.

Leslie Kornwell.

Gerda, the baker.

Etc.

True to his word, he unlocked the door to the basement, and Principal Abanate was let out.

The last thing he did before he left that day was stop by his classroom. Thankfully, the children were still there, but they were all arguing.

"Children.", he said. "Children, please. Children!"

The kids jumped up and turned around to look at him.

"I want you all to know that I am aware of your activities now, and I know about your little stakeout, thanks to the help of one of my straight A students, Ivan.

They all turned to look at Ivan with angry eyes, and Ivan shamefully looked at his shoes and scratched the back of his head.

"But worry not, I'm fully aware that none of you are going to drop this investigation if these people are still lurking about and ruining your lives. That's why I've decided to help you all instead."

Trinity furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Help us? How?"

"You only found one of the cultists on the night of your stakeout.", said the science teacher. "Principal Abanate, and no one else. But I can help you, I will do research on the sidelines and share information about them so that will take a little bit of the weight off of your shoulders. How does that sound, children?"

Maritza scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Absolutely not. I'm done with this investigation, I'm done with this club.", she said. "Even if any of us wanted to keep going, Trinity can't, because she's being sent away to boarding school."

"You have no idea how close to hitting you I am."

"Try it, bitch. See what happens."

Murtaugh sighed and walked over to the two girls, breaking them apart.

"Girls, if anyone else dies, things are only going to get worse from there.", he said. "And what do you think might happen if one of you dies, hm? There'll only be room for guilt in all of your hearts."

He stood up and walked back to the front of the room.

"You'll all get some mental breaks to distract yourselves from the whirlwind of events that have happened to all of you, and when you're all ready, we'll pick this back up.", he said. "Trinity, I will talk to your parents about sending you away."

Then Delroy scoffed, "And how are we supposed to trust you? You've been nothing but a freaking creep from day one. So forgive us if we thought you were one of them.", he said.

"I may come off as creepy and terrifying, but I genuinely care about all of my students.", said Mr. Murtaugh. "And now they're all on the verge of death or going missing, I can't have that. So I would like to help you all, and you can save your families, save the town, and save yourselves."

The gang wasn't so sure. Despite everything, despite all that he claimed, he still held that positive attitude and creepy smile. But on the other hand, they thought he was a cultist, when he was actually just a man.

So maybe this would be a way to make up for it.

Without another thought, they nodded at the man, and his smile grew wider.

"Perfect.", said Murtaugh, and he pointed towards the door. "Now you kids enjoy your mental health break."

Then the kids all left the room. Everyone except Trinity.

"Mr. Murtaugh.", she said, making the science teacher look at her. "Yes, dear?"

Trinity took a deep breath before asking her question, "Do you know who Dove is? He's part of the cult, but he actually saved all of us. ...Do you know who he is?"

Mr. Murtaugh's smile lowered a little. Of course he knew, but there was no way he was going to tell Trinity that. He made a promise to Nicky, and he was going to keep it. He'd only promised the club to help them, not to spill anything Nicky told him.

"No, dear. I'm sorry."

Trinity deflated, but she didn't say anything else. She just left the room, disappointed.

Meanwhile, Murtaugh stayed in his classroom, notebook in hand.

(P.S., this.)

[skaiwrites]

wrote a silly little thing about superpowers. copy below:

hi, uhh, i go by James, and my superpower—

i don't want to call it that. it's not even really an ability and i really don't like calling it a power. it's more something that happens to me, or i guess is just a thing that is true about me?

my uh, super trait is that. well, i kind of just always have whatever i need.

it started a couple years ago with just simple things: i realized i forgot a pen and then lo and behold a pen made its way into my hand.

it's kind of… escalated since then, um, as i'm sure you can tell, what with the still beating heart of. um. someone??? that you took from my hands just a few minutes ago. it did stop beating, right? i am Not in a headspace to find out that what i needed today is a magic heart that always beats, so i've been operating under the assumption that the forces of the universe decided i needed someone dead and that's just how they carried it out, hopefully someone bad. jeez i'd hate to find out it's like someone's progressive grandma. has anyone checked on the mayor yet today by the way? um, no reason. but yeah even though definitely worse to just assume there's a dead guy—or girl i guess, dead person; did we find out who it belongs to by the way? are we sure it was a human heart? anyways it's still easier for me to accept that than me needing a magic beating heart for some reason.

oh right, you wanted to know about my super trait. you just want to know about the heart? man, you know just as much about the heart as i do, but i can tell you how it got there i guess.

well after the pen incident, which i initially brushed off as just a brain fart moment. i thought i forgot that i actually didn't forget a pen. it was a whole thing.

anyway, after the pen incident i was walking home when i tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, and as i was stumbling a big ole' walkin' stick showed up in my hands and i sort of instinctively used it to brace myself so i didn't hit the ground. exactly what i needed, you see?

and it just snowballed after that. things appear in my hands so frequently i don't even notice it anymore! usually small things, a single stick of gum, a sandwich, a cookie, a dildo, basically anything i can put in my mouth i guess. hey don't look at me like that, i'm telling you i don't choose what shows up, i just choose what to do with it. sometimes i don't know why it shows up and sometimes it's just obvious. do you mind if i take a drink of this by the way? i'm thirsty.

where'd i get a drink? come on, keep up!

well a couple weeks after the walking stick i went swimming in the lake and i dove a little too deep and bubbles started flying out of my hands so i grabbed my mouth tight and well it was kind of frickin wild! i could breathe out of my hands!

and that was when i realized it could be anything, absolutely anything, as long as it was something i needed.

i try not to put too much thought into it. who really knows what we need beyond the most basic things, right? might as well just take the universe at face value. it's certainly nice never having to decide what to eat anymore; it seems it takes my emotional needs into consideration too, so i never end up with a food in my hands that i don't immediately realize i want in my mouth too. love when i get to put the things in my mouth. that's pretty great.

but it's not like my emotional needs always take precedence or anything. otherwise presumably something other than a still beating heart would've shown up a few minutes ago. did you find out who it belongs to yet? that was fucked up, i don't think i'm gonna get over it any time soon.

i know whatever it is doesn't create the things; it definitely takes them from wherever they already were. chest cavity, presumably, in this instance.

i know because i get a lot of stuff with specific ass logos on them. that's actually how i learned about my financial advisor, thru one of the pens that showed up. turns out when you stop using your debit card to pay for things because you always have just the right amount of cash in hand it's really easy to save up "i need a financial advisor" levels of money, or at least it was before i quit my job. didn't mean to, by the way! someone else's letter of resignation showed up i guess right before they signed it so i figured that was my cue.

one time a bitchin' lighter with a skull on it showed up when i needed to light a candle, and i almost took up smoking after that just so i could start a cool lighter collection because it pretty much never takes the same thing—otherwise i would only have one pen right now, instead of like 73 different ones because i keep forgetting them when i need them. it does take the same thing when i need something ostensibly mine, however; i forget my phone a lot cuz it's not like i need to remember to bring it anywhere and thankfully i'm not just accidentally stealing people's phones all the time, ha!

—anyway i thought it would be cool to see what kinds of lighters i could get, but the moment i tried to buy cigarettes a pamphlet about lung cancer showed up in my hands so i figured best not to tempt it. i ended up with a lighter collection anyways cuz i started attending random people's birthday parties and offering to light their cake candles instead. much healthier than smoking. i have so many new friends now. not to mention a bunch of shitty bics.

one day a gun showed up and i got freaked out and immediately threw it into the woods. good thing i was already walking in the woods. dunno what that was about tho. never got another gun. there's just some gun with my fingerprints on it in the middle of the woods somewhere! wow! i don't like thinking about that!

oh but sometimes i can't help it. i'm a curious guy ya know? again i try not to be. just let it happen. but what was up with that gun thing!? and the heart?!?!???

probably no big deal. it gets big some times, like when a set of car keys and a pink slip showed up last year. love my new car! but it's usually no big deal.

like, every morning for the past few months now a couple pills show up. dunno what they are but i figured i might as well take em. no big deal i feel great by the way, if you couldn't tell. tho sometimes my heart feels like it's going to explode! haha!

too soon… sorry, too soon.

[n4tural1]

I wrote a short story.

Its only a draft, so please give me some feedback :3 I hope you like it! (Tw for assassination and corporate greed)

“What I’m doing is good. What I’m doing will be good for all of us.”

My boots trudge through the wet concrete beneath me, leaving muddy prints where they stood. I glance around to check if anyone will be able to trace them to me, but all I am met with is the oppressive sight of the stores and buildings. Despite how long I've lived here, these buildings always seemed different at night. Whether it was the moonlight glistening off of the sea spray, or the sudden change in their backlighting, they always seemed to loom over me. Of course, I never had the choice to get used to the sight; being seaside meant I never saw them like this often. Then again, everything seemed darker since Apex Oil arrived.

…

It was a normal February. I just started my senior year and it was going well. My group of friends were as strong as ever, even hanging out every weekend to talk about our lives and help each other with homework. It was actually one of these weekends that we were told the bad news. My mom entered the living room, one hand on the door-frame, wearing that face a mother has when she has to tell her child that the family pet died. “Louise, can I talk to you for a moment?” Her voice was sharp and precise. The laughter in the room died.

I left my friends behind, concerned and desperate to find out why she had been so hostile. Surely I hadn’t done anything wrong, I was up to date at school, I had done all my chores, I had even made sure to keep track of the time, why was she so angry?

I wish I hadn’t thought so surface level. That way I could’ve been prepared.

Mom told me that the mayor had agreed to sell off our little seaside town to Apex Oil, and in 2 months, we would have to move.

This town, this little fishing town that grew into a great, loving community, this town that I have spent my entire life living in, this town that I have known nothing but... sold to a corporation.

My friends filed out of the room behind me. Whether they felt the palpable dread or their parents asked to talk to them as well, it didn’t matter; the end result was the same.

We all got the message. That our community was an asset to purchase.

… 

We paraded on the street in front of his new office. One of my friends found out where the CEO was working from then. Students from our school skipped school and were chanting against Apex’s presence in the chill of the early morning wind.

His car plowed through our ranks like nothing.

Most people dived. There were no casualties. But there was worse; a realisation.

The car door above me opened. I had barely dived out of the way. He steps his pristine leather shoes out of his car, and hesitates in his next step. He stares down at me, a look of disgust plastered on his face, waiting for this sobbing mess of an inconvenience to move out of the way of his path.

Our words meant nothing and our presence was only a minor obstacle to be solved.

…

The town got worse. Crime rates increased.

This was no coincidence. He was driving them up to drive us out.

Black cars circled the streets of our town, swerving to hit, swerving to kill.

Swerving to remove an obstacle.

Swerving to hit my Mom.

Was she hit because of my actions? My protest? Or just because she was an inconvenience that had to be removed for profit?

…

The cold steel of my fathers .44 Magnum revolver bites into the skin of my hand. “Is this really worth it?” These memories flash through my mind with blinding speed. I know their worth.

My target is in sight.

Splash. Splash. My boots pick up the pace as I grow faster to keep up with the man. My heart beats in my throat as I cock the hammer with my thumb. He remains with his back to me. I plant my feet in the darkness below.

The scent of the salt spray enters my nose. The memory of my home, of all I’m fighting for. 

My hands are steady, my mind is clear.

I take a deep breath.

My aim is true.

[hel-phoenyx]

New Year's Eve, part 9

Following through on @corneille-but-not-the-author and @soupedepates collab with me

Who. In the damn world. Thought this was a good idea. To put me in a city patrol. With Sigismund goddamn Warsowar.

Well. The answer is easy. Of course it's Walpurgis, who else. Saying it's gonna "strenghten teamwork" or some bullshit like this. Not even him doesn't believe in that. It's just the excuse for Warsowar. So he doesn't cry or something.

The silence is deafening. We haven't talked at all since our last altercation, after Domhildr outed me. Or pretended I was gay. Whatever. I never felt inclinations, but in the little I've felt, I've always preffered men, so I guess it's true.

Just thinking about that makes my skin crawl. Amandine stopped most of the rumors and nasty remarks, but I still get mean looks. I am not the token brown AND the token gay of the cops. The diversity pass.

I hate this.

I enrolled to change the system. Now I am part of it, and in the way I hate the most.

Warsowar isn't even looking at me. You can say so if I disgust you. i'm used to it.

Always been used to it until I met Tyr.

I can't start a conversation by myself, tho. It would look like I'm making an effort. I don't want to make an effort for him. At all.

He looks paler than usual.

Some people run away when they see us approaching, I sigh. I pray every day for the destruction of the police system, even if I'd get jobless, that doesn't mean I enjoy being looked at with fear in the eyes. I mean, not right now.

I chose fear because it gave me more power than hatred. To replace love. Everything feels empty now.

I don't even have the energy to feel angry.

Warsowar looks in one of the streets, signals me to come behind him. Nothing, but we can never be too cautious. Somethimes there is (horror) drug deals in the vicinity.

I usually go first to give them time to escape. I don't care anymore.

No one. He walks one step, two steps, stops.

Still looking in the opposite direction.

"You know, POCs aren't the only people to be subjected to racism."

I roll my eyes. First words you're adressing me and it's that ? Someone took to heart my comment on the privileges.

"Right. Say that to the immigrant syrian cop. What, you're gonna lecture me on anti-white racism now ?"

"No, it's not what I wanted to say. what I meant is, the occidental world doesn't spare an ounce of pity for poeple that are not american or western european."

"The point ?"

"My name, Fenrir. Do you think it looks western ?"

... Good point. I recall mayor Sarovar is polish. Still, won't forgive that fucker for every last ounce of suffering he cast upon us. He's part of the system. And he just profits from it.

I don't see why I would take pity of that nouveau riche.

...

He's shaking.

Something is wrong.

I don't feel anger.

Am I

Am I worried ?

For mayor Sarovar's son ?

Nah.

Not a chance.

Still, there is something in his face when he turns towards me.

"Just... Wanted you to know that. That you're being unfair."

"World is unfair, Warsowar."

"Then don't add to it."

Hell, he doesn't even look mad. Just shaken. Pupils are dilated, cheeks pale, sweat is subtly covering his brow. His hands, always holding a pencil or typing on a computer, are shivering in vain.

He reminds me of someone.

Who ?

"..... We probably should stop for a while. You don't look able to continue the patrol."

"No. We have to finish the job."

I roll my eyes. That feeling of familiarity is gnawing at the back of my head. But, who in the hell-

"What's gonna finish is your heart if you don't stop for a while, you look like you're about to have a panic attack. Sit down."

Because i ain't carrying the patrol on with a colleague in this state. He could get hurt stupidly, or I could get hurt trying to cover from him. As much as I don't like him, Walpurgis is gonna kill me if his precious rich boy comes to harm, and I'm already on eggshells because of that damn rumor.

Luckily for me, Sigismund Warsowar is a good boi that listens to his elders. Fuck, I don't even know if I'm older than him. He has never looked more like a child when he sits down, try to take back the control of his breathing. The noises even strenghten that feeling of familiarity.

"Alright. We're not getting anywhere if you don't calm down, so, focus on my breathing. It should help countering the panic attack. Breathe in... Breathe out..."

"How.... Do you know how to calm down panic attacks..."

"This should be a basic skill for a cop, especially one who specialises in helping ignored people. Also I have experience, I've spend so much time calming down-"

Tyr.

That's where the feeling was coming for.

He has the exact same haunted eyes. The exact same shivering when I found him the first time back in elementary.

...

...

...

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I do my best to steady my breathing, try to at least calm down that one. My own heart is beating like crazy.

How

How could I not recognize the signs ?

Tyr also comes from a rich family. The af Mundir are a plague to society as much as Sarovar Warsowar is.

We fought a lot back then. For good reasons. Or petty ones. But I never, ever, projected the sins of his family upon him.

...

Ha.

I've been an hypocrite, haven't I ?

Sigismund ends up calming down. I extend a hand. He takes it. He's still shaky, but at least his cheeks are less pale, and his breathing seems to have stabilised.

"Better ?"

"...... Yeah. Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

I start walking, leading the patrol this time. But before I turn up the corner, I throw a look towards him, following a little more hesitantly.

"Look, I still don't like you, man. But i'm sorry. For dragging you into my mess."

"I didn't... Expect an apology, especially right now ?"

I sigh.

"You don't have to take it. That also does not mean we're buddy buddy or that I suddenly like your girlfriend. I still owe her a forced outing. But you had nothing to do with this and I'm the one who dragged you in, so I at least owe you this one."

".... Apology accepted. Thanks for owning up to that, at least."

I smile. Bitterly

"You know, you remind me of someone. And I still have to decide if it's a good thing."

***

Alright.

I held up my part of the contract, I apologised to Sigismund. Still can't stand that fucker, but at least it's for legitimate reasons, now. Ha.

No way in hell i'm apologizing to Domhildr. I'm still contemplating reminding her who has the power here. And even if I'd do nothing, I've thrown shit, she outed me, we're even, somehow.

That means there is only one person left.

I don't have any news about Tyr. Last time I've heard about him, it was through Gustav telling me he is crashing their house, screenless for a good while, so he can play with the kid. The kid that bears my name.

He also told me Kriss forbade him from giving me news. She's updating all his friends taking her calls on how he's doing. The precision is telling me not all of them do.

Looks like I have, after all, get them away from each other.

I am not even satisfied.

So. I don't know in which state I'm gonna find him. But I at least have to try and make things up to him.

I remember the hospital bed, and my face scrunching up when I saw who was next to it. The words, coming out of my mouth, "what the fuck is THAT ONE doing here ????". Then the insults, the fights.

I remember raising my fist.

I remember a snappy voice cutting me immeditaly.

"Enough."

He was on the hospital bed. Fist clenched. Looking at me with a rage I have never seen.

His finger extending to the door.

"You get the fuck out of here, Fen. Now."

I remember the look, not vindictive, I expexted to find on THAT guy's face. Instead there was worry. Worry, but never for me. I was, I am, insignifiant to both of their eyes.

I never want to see that look on Tyr's eyes ever again.

My finger presses the call button.

Kriss, surprisingly, answers.

"Fenrir, what an unpleasant surprise."

"I take it you still resent me."

That's not a question. That is, anyway, quickly answered.

"Still do indeed. But this is not about me. I suppose you call to talk to Tyr ?"

"... Yeah."

"You're an intelligent one. All the others tell me they tried to ring his phone that he turned off. I'll let you have that, you do know better."

Even that doesn't make me smile.

"Can I ? Please ?"

"Oh. a please in-between the fangs of Fenrir Wolffsen, what a surprise. Tell you what, just for that please, I'll hand the phone to him. But I warn you. If it's not for an apology, I will come to your apartment and beat you up."

Kriss is not up to the challenge and I know it, yet I shiver in terror. The idea of that 1m70-something woman coming to my flat to kick me in the balls has something unsettling. Probably because it's Kriss.

I hear her talking through muffled earphone, probably with a hand on the mic while she's warning Tyr. before, Finally, I hear a tired, deep voice on the other side of the mic.

"Hello, Fenrir."

".... Sup."

"I have to warn you, he continues, still emotionless. Kriss told me that if the next words out of your mouth weren't an apology, I would be allowed to hang up. and i'm very tempted to do so. So, do your worst."

That tone hurts me more than the words.

"Okay. I 'm sorry."

Pause. On the other side of the phone, apparently, my conversation partner is stunned. But I am not finished.

"I realise now that I've acted rashly out of jealousy, and hurt you uselessly in the process. And I don't like seeing you like this, Tyr. Especially of it's because of me. So I am really, really sorry for my actions regarding Domhildr and Sigismund."

And I think I believe it.

A sigh rips through the mic.

"... That's already something. But you know, Fenrir, I want you to understand that it's not only because you've been completely insensitive about Domi's flirting attempt that I've been that hurt. It's all the insinuating about my own self-worth."

"... What do you mean ?"

"I'll tell you a little something. When people ask us constantly if you ever get tired of being the second choice, you start believing in it. I'll choose to believe because I do not think you're that heartless that it was a coincidence, but it didn't come at a good time. At all."

Another sigh.

"So. Congrats. You managed to destroy the relationship between me and the woman I'm in love with. Doing so, you jeopardized our own."

... A goal reached, eh, but at what cost ?

I used to believe they were the reason you didn't choose me, back then. Now I don't even know if you'd choose me anyway.

I should let go of it.

Yet

You've always been my first choice.

Why can't you see it ?

Why am I not yours ?

".... I'm sorry."

"And I'll choose to believe you are. But I don't think you've earned my forgiveness on this one with just words. Prove me you've changed and I'll think about it. Leave them alone. Domhildr, but also Oli, or even Meili even if sometimes he deserves it."

Pause.

His voice get harsher.

"And especially Kaizarz."

...

I won't get better, will I ?

"Alright. i'll try. In the meantime, I have a favor to ask of you."

My voice is trembling. Fuck.

"What is it ?"

"Kriss told me you're living at her house for the time being, and you didn't got out at all. So what do you think if I organised a little outing with everyone ? Aarni, Brynja, Gustav, Hector, Thorfinn. For old time's sake."

I hear an hesitation, some words thrown probably to the power couple. before something exhales on the phone.

"... Alright. I'll let you organize the details with Gustav, I am absolutely not in the right mood to be the party organizer. Find us a good bar, let's get wasted, for old time's sake as you said. But I am not accepting this invitation as your friend. You're still on thin ice, Fenrir."

".... Fair enough. I'll call Gustav later."

"Fine by me. Good bye, Fenrir."

A click.

He hangs up.

Something runs on my cheeks.

Wet.

Weird.

I have not cried since that day on the hospital.

[beyourselfchulanmaria]

@nobeerreviews Hello 👋

For me as you're one of my oldest friends on Tumblr for these years, Especially we both didn't use the rules here to "followers" one another to build on a friendship been a very long time, but I would read and repost your traveled post which I like anyway. :))) So I would reply you tagged name me from you the post and work for it. otherwise I usually don't play this kind pass on text games. True.

1. 3 ships - I love pirate ships, I want to go kayaking, I often in night dream about being on a ship like UFO very funny lol. (Actually, I come from old school. I don’t know if my understanding is correct or not for the emerging generation’s questions between different languages. 😅😂)

2. First ever ship - I don't have any ships, I only have my shits but cute. XD

3. Last song - I mean the last song in my life : 弘一法師-李叔同 《送别》 https://youtu.be/CyQHQ1ixFto?si=HVy55vYT-Qp8rB7M

4. Last movie - 火上鍋 La Passion de Dodin Bouffant (The Taste of Things) /I saw this movie second times last week. I really love it~*

5. Currently reading - 桑塔格 ／SONTAG : Her Life And Work /Author: Benjamin Moser and many books cross reference reading them once again; lazy to put book-name list on here. sorry!

6. Currently watching - That's my secret… lol and some porn films for relaxing to be honest.

7. Currently consuming - tea, coffee, noodles & pasta were gone fast normally at studio. and then enjoy sweets or snacks usually at the coffee shop and when I get home would feed else.

8. Currently craving - A long vacation on traveling and go camping before I die.

9. People to tag - So sorry, At beginning I have told that "I usually don't play this kind pass on text games." I will not tag any friend's name here, Because I believe that if you want to know more about a person, you must have a natural collision of souls, and that kind of spark will never go out.

And

I don't easily become interested or curious about anyone unless they are very close to me. The more things you know, the more you can't help but care, the more worries you will have, and the more burden you will have on your heart. I am not running for president, mayor or village chief. As an old guy, I want to simplify my interpersonal relationships as much as possible. I don’t need to have many friends. My friends are animals, birds, insects, flowers and trees, wind and rain, mountains, rivers and seas; they are all mysteries, far more interesting than human beings. that's all. 🙏 Thank you. - Lan~*

[mynameisjessejk]

Ayas' Quest - A Dragon

Ayas wished he were more surprised, as he made his way around a small hillage in the depths of the valley, to hear someone shout, "Sir Knight!"

For one moment, his whole body trembled with the urge to spur Ember to a gallop, to pretend he hadn't heard, to abandon these people to their fates, to save Celyn. Then he forced it down and turned Ember towards the voice.

It was a larger holding that Ayas had first estimated, a town of a few hundred people, crammed into a rather much too small space. They had a fortification wall and everything, even if it was just a wood stockade. It was tall—they'd built up to deal with their small footprint.

"Hail Sir Knight!"

"Well met," Ayas answered, bringing Ember to a halt two horse-lengths away from the pair of guards at the foot of the stockade wall. "What can I do for you?"

"Mayor said to fetch you, if we saw you," one said.

"Not you-you," the other guard continued. "But anyone what could solve our problem."

Sensing he would get no more from them, Ayas nodded. "Then take me to him," he offered, dismounting.

Ember trailed him obediently through the busy streets, and stood at the hitch in front of the mayor's office without tying.

Ayas introduced himself to the mayor with Celyn's name, and asked the problem.

"We've a dragon in the hills," the mayor said.

Ayas did not immediately voice his disbelief, because Celyn would never, but he felt it, sharp and swift. Dragons were vanishingly rare, these days. "That's a problem," he said, because if it were true, it would be a problem.

The mayor nodded solemnly. "We're already struggling," he said. "There's too many of us, but none want to leave, and I won't stand by and let people die because it would be easier," he shook his head, hands clenching, "But we can't afford to loose any livestock, not if we're to make it through the winter."

Ayas nodded slowly. Population density was a problem beyond him, but if there were a monster in the hills, and he bleieved their could be one, just not a dragon, that was a problem he could fix. And of course, Celyn, damn his noble heart, would do so. "What sign of dragon have you seen, and where?" he asked.

The mayor snorted. "I know it's mad," he said. "A dragon. But it's not sign I've seen, we've seen the dragon."

Ayas revised his mental estimate; he'd figure a cockatrice, those sometimes left burnmarks from their acid. A tarasque perhaps, or a wyvern. Both could look draconic to the unitiated. "Where?" he repeated mildly.

"South of the town, flying, but it's always that way."

A wyvern, then, Ayas thought. Tarasque didn't fly. "I'll see what can be done," he promised. "I'm leaving my horse," he added. "See to it he's taken care of?"

"I will," the man promised.

Ayas patted Ember's nose as he told him to be nice to the townsfolk, and then headed south on foot, the Rowan shield across his shoulders. He was not exactly excited to fight a wyvern, but at least it was a clear enemy, and should be a short fight.

Then he could get back on the road.

Then he found the entrance to a cave into the ground. He blinked at it in surprise for a moment. Maybe it was a dragon? As he drew near the mouth of the cave, he could smell the sulfur. "Huh," he said aloud.

A serpentine muzzle appeared in the mouth of the cave. "Oh hello there," the dragon said. "Oh!" it said, seeming to get a good look at Ayas for the first time. "A knight!" Then the great head tilted. "But not a typical one," he observed.

Ayas inclined his head. "I am today," he said.

"Lovely!" the dragon said. "But you're not even carrying a sword, Huntsman, what do you plan to do about a dragon?"

"I thought you were a wyvern," Ayas admitted.

"Still probably want a sword for that," the dragon scolded. "Although with me a lance would do you better than a sword."

Ayas chuckled. "Don't have one of those either," he said. "Do I need one?"

"Well no," the dragon said. "But most knights would have at least one or the other."

"The Shield has served me well enough so far," Ayas said.

"You're a strange knight, even beyond your species, Huntsman," the dragon observed.

"So they tell me," Ayas said, thinking fondly of Celyn's oddities.

"What brings you here, then, if not to slay me?" the dragon asked.

Ayas shrugged. "The village north of you is concerned."

The dragon's brow-ridges wrinkled. "Humans are not delicious."

"Sheep? Cattle?" Ayas asked dryly.

The dragon blew a smoke ring. "In a pinch, I suppose," he sighed. "I prefer tarasque, if I can get it."

"And when you can't?"

"Deer," the dragon said. "or cows."

Ayas inclined his head. "Therein lies the problem."

The dragon blew another smoke ring. "Seems fine to me," he said.

Ayas said, "The humans can't afford to give up any cattle, and you can't or won't agree not to eat any, so yes, we have a problem."

"I never said that," the dragon said.

Ayas narrowed his eyes. "Don't play with me," he said sternly.

"I have no intention of eating the cattle," the dragon said dismissively.

"That doesn't mean you won't," Ayas growled. "I am not a human, son of earth, and I am familiar with the ways words can twist. Do not play with me."

Thunder rumbled.

The dragon looked at Ayas again, something new in his reptilian eyes. "And what will you do if I say nay, Huntsman?"

"I will slay thee if I must," Ayas said coldly. "And do not believe that I cannot, sword, lance or no. I do not want to, and it will not please me to end today wet with thy blood, but I am sworn to the service of the people of this land, and thou art nothing of my concern."

The dragon deflated. "And if I give you my word I will not touch the human's cattle?" the dragon inquired idly.

"I'll have thine oath on the earth that bore you, dragon, and in thy true name as well. And I will have an oath that thou wilt kill none, and eat no livestock, not just cattle." Ayas lifted his chin.

"Oh fine," the dragon grumbled. "This is why no one likes Fae," he complained.

"I am not, but thou mayest take me for one if it maketh thou agree," Ayas retorted.

The dragon's eyes narrowed. "Not a fae, Hunstman?"

"Thou namest me correctly," Ayas conceded. "But I am not of the Fae Courts. Still, thy name, thy oath, and I will be gone from you."

There were wheels turning behind the dragon's eyes, seeking an out, an escape clause.

Ayas didn't truly believe the dragon had any intention of eating the human's livestock. He believed the dragon didn't like it, and he believed that he wouldn't unless forced. But the world was fickle, and particularly now that he'd lost, Ayas was wary.

Thunder rumbled again.

"Why do you care?" the dragon demanded. "They're only humans."

Ayas considered this question. "Only," he scoffed. "As if any human could ever be only something."

The dragon's head cocked curiously, tongue scenting the air. "What do you mean?"

"I spent nearly five years bound by iron," Ayas said. "By a human mage who turned people into skinks for fun. I have seen magistrates hang women for not having sex with them. I have seen brigands kill their own brothers to steal silverware. I have seen old men grasp at power and crush innocents in their wake."

"Then why?" the dragon cried.

"Because as I watched all that, I watched men stand against it. I watched a town rise up against the magistrate. I watched justice come for the thieves and murderers. I have seen women take in children, families feed strangers when they scarcely have enough for themselves. I have seen men run towards trouble, and women kindle hope, and children ask for wrongs to be righted." Ayas stared hard at the dragon, holding his eyes, unafraid of a dragon's ability to compel. "Humans are as they are, and the good in them is worth fighting for."

Because Celyn was right, of course, when he stood up for his people. And for today, at least, Ayas was Celyn. So he would stand, and he would be right, no matter how sometimes he agreed with this dragon about the relative worth of humans.

"Fine," the dragon snarled. And he gave his name, and his oath, sullen and furious.

Ayas nodded sharply. "Good," he said. "And I will hold thee to thy word."

"I would see these humans you think so highly of," the dragon said.

Ayas nodded. "It will be enlightening," he said. "I hope you learn much, as I have, these years among them."

The dragon looked Ayas over. "Hmm, not so red, I think," he rumbled, and then before Ayas stood a man, middling stature, perhaps slightly older than Celyn, with greying hair and keen brown-gold eyes.

Ayas grinned with all his teeth. "Come," he said. "I'll introduce you to the mayor."

Then he led the way back north to the town. As they walked, Ayas looked west, towards the Hunt, and felt his stomach fall. They were gone. His jaw worked. Not just moved off in a new direction, but gone from his senses entirely. Returned to the Fae-lands was most likely.

"Problems, Hunstsman?" the dragon inquired.

"No," Ayas said shortly, and stomped on. He managed to get his attitude together to be polite to the guardsmen, and introduced the dragon to the mayor. In explanation, he said only, "He helped me with your dragon issue, and you shouldn't have problems with it anymore. Even if you see it, you're safe from it."

The mayor was grateful, and offered to put Ayas up for the night. Ayas looked west again. He had to try.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "But I am on an errand that cannot any longer delay."

"Well our thanks and our gratitude go with you," the mayor said, shaking his hand emphatically. "Supplies? Can we offer you anything?"

"Look after my friend," Ayas answered, nodding at the dragon. "He's unused to company, but I think he could be very happy here."

The mayor nodded. "Thank you," he said again, still wringing Ayas' hand.

Ayas made his escape, unrepentantly leaving the dragon with the grateful man.

[meme-queen-pumpkin]

Starters/prompts from movies: Scrooge (2022)

These starters are all quotes taken from the 2022 Animated version of a Christmas Carol

Buckle in, this is a loooong one because I found so many good quotes to use! This movie just has some amazing dialogue, songs, etc. So I will put it under a read more so as it doesn't clutter up blogs and such! Let's just say I got to 74 before reaching the movie's half way point

Senders, feel free to send in a starter from the rather long list, and maybe add context or ideas for a plot too if you want!

"Oi, watch where you're walking, you great clumsy lump!"

"Didn't realise it was you."

""It is you! I knew it!"

"Where is she? Where's the finest lady in all of London?"

"They say a man makes his own luck...so I suppose I have only myself to blame for this encounter."

"How rude!"

"He's rubbish!"

"An artist would get more than a penny for every thousand posters he sticks up..."

"Quick! Leg it!"

"You! Who are you?!"

"I've more than my fill of people for one...day..."

"She knows a shortcut!"

"The answer is no"

"I despise it and all it stands for."

"The same answer to the same question you ask me every year"

"Life is full of disappointments"

"Please leave, before I say something you will regret."

"You do nothing but trouble me..."

"Yes. As everyone is so fond of..telling me..."

"You have children? Of course you do...."

"Does that sound fair to you?"

"What? What have I done now?"

"10 pence ha'penny! Add that to the ten shillings I have, and add a bit of (name) magic and we can have as fine a dinner as the lord mayor himself!"

"Oh don't be so dramatic.."

"No? No pleasing some people..."

"Every year...the same reminders of the things I've lost..."

"Why should I be bright and merry?"

"Won't someone tell me? Tell me!"

"Seasons greetings? You can keep them."

"Don't they know I have my reasons?"

"I'm not happy so why should they be?"

"Bring them down to size!"

"Treat them tougher!"

"I thought you were dead" "Dead? Dead tired!"

"Sorry for the dramatic entrance, those in charge insist on a touch of pageantry, you see?"

"We were all like you. Trapped in our own selfish worlds!"

"Heed my warning. Before it's too late."

"It's that (name)..interfering. Bringing my blood to the boil. Has me jumping at shadows..."

"It's (Name), Isn't it? Yes, that's the one! (Name)! What a funny name!"

"Who...or err...what are you?"

"Who am I? Why! I can be anyone you've ever known! I can even be you!"

"I was getting to that. You are an impatient one, aren't you? Now shhh!"

"I've gone mad..."

"Mad you say?"

"My dreams are never this exciting...but none of this can be real. So yes, I must be awake....and quite insane."

"Oh hush now."

"There. Did that feel real?"

"It does take it's toll, (action or whatever), Did I not warn you?"

"(Blank). A terrible, terrible thing, a (blank). Uh...What is a (blank) again?"

"You can't escape your past, mate"

"May all your (blank) wishes come true."

"I wanted to give you this. I made it all by myself!"

"A sorry transaction in any currency..."

"You were handsome/pretty. What went wrong?"

"Who's her/him?! Where's her/him?!"

"My! You look splendid!"

"Oh! Look away!"

"But you didn't/don't enjoy it?" "Not one bit" "*sarcastic*Oh yes, you look like you're having an awful time!"

"They say happiness is a thing see, a thing you can't touch. I disagree"

"Happiness is the folly of fools, pity poor me. One of those fools."

"Happiness is standing beside me, I can see him/her. He/She can see me."

"Happiness is a bright star. Are we happy? Yes we are!"

"No? Well I would very much like to see why not!"

"I do wish you'd stop doing that.."

"I would say it's been a pleasure. But it has not."

"I thought....I don't know what I thought..."

"You do so dwell on the bad things in life and then learn nothing from them."

"Not now (name), I have far too much work...later. Later."

"You keep on telling me later...but later never comes around.."

"Please stop telling me later..."

"When we first met...your heart was free..."

"Now you're looking for something...something I could never be.."

"You are really all I need..."

"Take my hand, come with me now and we'll fly free!"

"No more later, we both know that's a lie."

"Don't let this be the day I say goodbye."

"There is no later!"

"Goodbye, (name)..."

"That could have been you..I suppose. Oh too bad."

"There is no going back, nor changing what has been."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It was (name), she/he/they dared me. Oh we do have fun here."

"Where am I? When am I?"

"You are in the here and now! Isn't it fabulous?!"

"I make life a perpetual spree."

"Life has it's brighter side too!"

"Who'd like the privelage to dine me?"

"Life is short, make it count!"

"Life is a wonderful thing for living!"

"Are you ready?!" "Oh I'm ready. Ready to go home!"

"Hit the town? I'll hit something else in a minute!"

"No? Well did you ever ask him/her/them?"

"He/she/they assured me that times are hard." "Times are hard For us. Not him/her/them."

"This beautiful day that I dream about, there's a world I would love to see. It's a beautiful place where the sun comes out and shines in the sky for me."

"There's no place I would rather be."

"The future is as much a mystery to me as it is to you."

"There is no great secret to any of this. You just have to do the best you can with the time you have."

"Would ya look at that?"

"Your colleagues were really rather fond of speaking...more than I would have liked."

"I live my life as well as I can. I have my faults but who doesn't?"

"Very well, lead on..."

"On behalf of all the people who have gathered here, I would merely like to mention if I may (Insert speech or dialogue)"

"Our unanimous attitude is one of lasting gratitude for what our friend has done for us today."

"Thank you very much. That's the nicest thing that anyone's ever done for me!"

"It isn't everyday good fortune comes your way!"

"I could've done more...I could've done something..." (Angsty potential. Major angst)

"I wouldn't hang around for any mourners mate, nobody's sorry to see this one go."

"I will not become this man whose death is the cause of so much celebration."

"Why show me this if I am past all hope?"

"I'm glad (name) found the happiness she/he/they deserved. Perhaps it's not too late for me to find my own."

"I'll begin again, I'll rebuild my life."

"I'll live to know I've fulfilled my life."

"The future I make will be one that will last."

"I'll make quite certain that the story ends on a note of hope."

[generalluxun]

Talking about about abuse and psychological damage, have you the last chapter of stripped socks in ao3¿ I think it really nails what an emotional and mental breakdown in a teenage girl looks like and how friendships can shatter without salting any characters, very good reading.

Thanks for the ask. I had bookmarked it instead of subbing so I was a few chapters behind. I left my thoughts on comments there. Especially in chapter 6, a full breakdown of Marinette.

Let's see if I can copy-pasta it. (Also: people should go read this fic. It is quite good and I am extremely picky)

This is headcanon/psychoanalysis territory but it fits so *well*.

Re:Marinette several things are all simultaneously true.

She feels tremendous guilt not only for what is known, but also what is not known. She recognizes the real wrongs she has done and feels genuine remorse.

She feels resentful, she is a 14yr old girl who fought multiple grown adult supervillains with wildly inadequate training or support most of the time. She's also Ladybug, the one with the answers! The entire city dumped the responsibility for protecting itself on her shoulders.

She has a taste for control. She's Ladybug the leader! She's got tremendous power! This dropped into the life of someone who felt previously powerless. The tendency to swing is obvious. Control the situation, control the information, mitigate chances for embarrassment, slather everything in Bathos, bury uncomfortable truths, keep everyone two steps behind so you can be ready when they catch up to yesterday. Adrien, Su-Han, Gabriel, all of it. You see how it is interwoven itself into who she is now.

She has no legitimate stricture authority anymore. Law enforcement? Powerless. The Mayor? Corrupt. Fu? Gone

Su-Han? Incompetent. Her partner? Smitten. This isn't on her at all but it feeds into her response here. (Curiously a state similar to Chloé's at one point again)

Note:These aren't distinct parts of her or meticulous thoughts. It's a hodgepodge of emotions, reactions, learned behaviors, desperation, and yes on some level deliberate ill-will(we all have some)

So what happens when the truth is forced out? Honestly I think we get a large-scale reaction of how she would have handled Adrien. (She's 14, always remember.) Control was stripped away from her. She wasn't *forced* to do anything, except be honest without her filters.

She leans all into the self-blame/self-harm narrative.

This ticks all the boxes above. She *does* feel bad, bit there is no legitimate authority to hold her accountable, those that can don't. Lacking that catharsis she is left with only the disapproval of the masses, people she does resent on some level, people who know nothing. The panels, the armchair coaches, the mob. What *right* do they have? Well... Every right, because shd is a hero, and she knows this, but will their response be proportional and constructive? Ha. It's the mob.

However, if Marinette deliberately enflames them. If she pushes the 'hate me' if she *feeds* their emotional reaction then she can discount it all, in her heart, as blind hatred. She can de-legitimize caring critique by flooding it with emotional feedback. Hence- 'hate me' to her friends. 'I have to be the villain', because she knows she isn't but if she can make people treat her like one, she can fight against that -in her heart-. She can keep the reckoning at arm's length. The more dear the rejection the more she can justify her own secret-keeping. 'I knew they wouldn't understand, and this is proof'.

And for those who won't turn on her? It's classic sympathy fishing. If I hate me/mock me harder than anyone, those who really care will rush to my defense unconditionally. They will be my duvet against the reality of the situation, because their instinct will be to nurture, to justify in my place, and to be 'on my side'.

Again-this isn't some grand villainous scheme, this is the broken toxic self-defense mechanisms of a kid who has been put in multiple positions well past her depth.

This is why Plagg is so perfect here. He denies her sympathy, but he doesn't seek to punish her. He admits his anger, he tells her plainly what she needs to do to make things right. He holds her accountable in a way no one else will, and gives her a path out of the darkness.

It is exactly what she needs, and also what she is terrified of, because it really *is* something she can fail at. And canon tells us Marinette will do anything to avoid being emotionally vulnerable.

I'm rooting for this Marinette to seize this opportunity and grow. I'm rooting for Kagami and Zoé to find the balance of love and accountability that Marinette's life has lacked.

[spacedhead]

homestuck reread #14 act 6 p5

we are about to enter some crazy territory. hopefully no one runs out of lives.... lest there be a.... game over.

damn roxy even talks like me. so goated. anyway things are about to get alot worse

god i fucking love this panel hes so real i am just like him in every way except for the ways i am like john and roxy

hehehehehe this makes me giggle

me stealing all of the mannerisms of my boy best friend LOLLLL he actually does need help though. you cant lose your cool like this lil bro.

NOOO KARKAT . you will be missed :(

he is so cude man :ppppp :D

haha redglare. also this glitch shit is crazy and sort of hard to understand. i guess it is because caliborn put his powder in the homestuck cartridge... but is that really why? or is it a metaphor......

bossy much? true dirk you are being really controlling dude. maybe take it down a notch lil bro

these interactions with arquiusprite are so funny

Neigh, braj

most sane dave rant of all time. i love this man so much he is my son. that guy whos like this is delicious im about to kill my son but instead he says im about to be my son

HE SAVED THE MAYOR. my heart dropped. if he dies i kill myself NO CAP

this idiot bozo doesnt know what time travel is. im saying this out loud as i type it out

brain ghost dirk phenomenon sighting

the image "why were you on mad at me island"

do not mess with her fort. LEST THERE BE THE CONSEQUENCES .

lil seb returns!!! hes so real. also he got rusted because he somehow survived for sooooooooooo long after the earth was abandoned by all

wait he is just like me. oh HELL no. this BOZO is still at it.... this is up for consideration .

theres angels. sollux said a LONG TIME AGO that angels are linked with death and are used by paradox space to usher in "the end." what could this mean for their chances of success. surely nothing

ACTUAL VILLAIN OF THE STORY SHE IS ABOUT TO SCREW EVERYTHING UP

i used to say this shit all the time real ones know about me

goot bye dabe </3

WHORE YOU

this picture of dirk is cool . im glad things will go well for him.

i love his freudian slips so much hes so funny to me i need to be like him i need to be like him what no im normal im so normal

i love arcs

me using my baller ass powers on my enemies ( they stand no chance against me )

me in real life ( i never have any idea what is going on whatsoever) he is very small in multiple of these panels and that alone is making me like him more. that is all

seriously how small is this guy!!!!!!!

...............okay......... sam and i watched game over.... everyone died........ except for john and roxy and terezi temporarily... THINGS WENT TO SHIT. FAWK.......... but it will be better soon... you first must descend in order to ascend as the great nannasprite once said ...... i closed my eyes when dave died so it didnt happen

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Surprises.

Gonna be real this was originally meant to be smut but then it sort of took on a life its own and became just tooth rotting fluff so enjoy!

Taglist (Ask if you’d like to be added) @auxiliarydetective

Leta Middenlocke was many things, a liar, a cheat, a murderer and a soldier, but she never considered herself a fool, until this very moment.

They were on a moon, a small village named Kinsgard to be exact, and she had spent her wages on a dress, an actual dress and for what? To stand awkwardly in the room Ibram had been granted by the mayor of said town as a thank you for saving it from total annihilation? She examined herself in the mirror, the dress was pretty, a lovely shade of maroon that had a sweetheart neckline and reached her knees, once upon a time it would have suited her a lot more than it did now, a shaved head, bruised legs and guard issue combat boots were not this summers sought after accessories. 

Ibram would laugh at her no doubt, speaking of which where was the grumpy bastard? It was almost midnight and meetings never ran this late. 

She heard the beep of a keypad, speak of the devil and he shall always appear, and so he did, walking through the door backlit by the hallway lights, she’d know his silhouette anywhere, the cap, the coat, she’d committed it to memory.

“There you are.”

“Sorry I’m late darling..I ran into Corbec outside the pub on the way back, he and the boys were having a celebratory drink..”

 He turned and hung up his cap, then removed his coat

“And one drink became two and then two became three..” He chuckled “You know how Colm can be.”

“Aye I do.” She replied with a smile “When someone else is paying.” 

“On the house, us being heroes and all..” He turned to face her, a smile on his flushed face. “Whats this?”

“A surprise..” She twirled in the dress, he’d never seen her in anything besides her uniform before, she’d even spent ages shaving her legs with a straight razor, somehow she didn’t cut herself, a miracle. “Do you like it?” 

“Wh-Where’d you get it?”

“Bought it, with my wages..Had some saved up, since..well I don’t exactly need to buy much..” 

He was staring at her, she felt self conscious, she was right, she looked stupid, her days of dress wearing were far behind her.

“Silly really…I mean…when am I gonna wear it?” She shrugged, feeling like a burst balloon “Just..I guess…Forget it.” 

“Hey..” he walked across the room to her and put a hand under her chin “You look beautiful.” 

“You always say that.”

“Because its true.”

“I guess I just..I wanted to remind you that I’m a woman..”

“I know that, Princess.”

“Do you? Because I forget sometimes..” 

She ran her hands along the skirt of her dress, it was soft, she’d forgotten what soft clothes felt like.

“I’m just Middenlocke..”

“No, your Leta.” 

“Only you ever call me it, and even then only when no one else is around.”

“You’re Leta Victoria Middenlocke..” 

Her name had never sounded so perfect as it did coming from his mouth.

“All though, I do hope you’ll become Leta Victoria Gaunt..”

Her eyes widened, her eyebrows very almost reached her hairline.

“What?”

“I took so long out because I was getting something..”

He walked back to his coat, and when he returned he had small box in his palm

“And I had a whole plan about how I was going to suggest we take a walk and then I was going to propose under the moonlight..” He laughed, a rare sound coming from him “And then Colm went and buggered it all up by getting me drunk.” 

The ring was a gold band, simple, the only adornment was the Imperial Eagle etched into the center, Leta’s heart felt she had just survived a near death experience, she was used to that feeling, she’d had a lot of them. 

“But..How?” She asked “You…us…”

She knew from the moment she’d first kissed him, all those nights under the stars that they could never be anything official, no grand wedding, no children, no growing old together and planting tulips in a garden, that just wasn’t possible, Too many rules, too many differences between them.

She was the lowly penal legionnaire, he was the Colonel-Commissar, it just didn’t happen, not on this side of infinity.

“Ibram..I can’t be your wife.”

“Who says?”

“Literally everyone, love.” She scoffed “It would be career suicide for you and quite possibly actual suicide for me.” 

“It doesn’t have to be anything huge, I just..I want there to be a record of us somewhere…Some proof that..” He paused. “If either of us died, I’d want there to be evidence that this happened, That we loved each other.”

In all likelihood it was her who would die, that truth haunted every waking moment they spent together, a specter clawing at their happiness with ice cold claws, it would wait, a predator seeking its prey, as random as lightning striking the ground but it would come, they both knew this.

Leta Gaunt did have a ring to it.

“You have to ask me properly.”  

He smiled, and sank to one knee, Ibram Gaunt bowed to know one but the God Emperor, But he could make a exception in Leta’s case.

“Leta Victoria Middenlocke…would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”  

“Yes, Ibram, I would.”

He took the ring from the box and slid it on to her ring finger, it fit perfectly. 

He kissed her and then picked her up, he spun her around, the skirt of her dress spread around like the petals of a blooming flower and she laughed, for a moment, a fleeting moment they were just like any other newly engaged couple.

And by the Throne they would cling to this moment of happiness until the next one came along.

[dollycas]

The Wagtail Murder Club (Paws & Claws Mysteries) Cozy Mystery 10th in Series Setting - Virginia Publisher ‏ : ‎ Berkley (February 4, 2025) Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 320 pages ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 0593817524 ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-0593817520 Kindle ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0D3C25SGW Audiobook ASIN B0DR9DYN6T Audio CD ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0DRBZJX45 Holly Miller gets much more than she bargained for when she rescues an adorable stray pup by the side of the road in this all-new Paws & Claws Mystery from New York Times bestselling author Krista Davis. Holly Miller is on her way home to Wagtail, Virginia when she spots something in the grass not far from her car. It turns out to be an adorable black Labrador in a cage with a note attached to his collar. My name is Squishy. I am a very good boy. Please take good care of me. Holly takes Squishy home to the Sugar Maple Inn, which she owns with her grandmother, who also happens to be the mayor of Wagtail. They decide to foster Squishy at the Inn. Days later, Holly is surprised to see her ex-boyfriend Ben checking in with a group of his attorney colleagues who all seem to think that he and Holly are still an item! Aided by Squishy, Holly’s rascally dog and cat find one of Ben’s fellow attorneys who has died from a non-accidental fall. Is the fiend a resident of Wagtail or a visitor? Holly bands together with her mom, grandmother, and beloved elderly Inn butler, Mr. Huckle, to uncover the killer and the truth about Squishy. Because nothing brings a town together like murder. Dollycas's Thoughts The Sugar Maple Inn gets a new canine visitor when Holly Miller finds a beautiful black Labrador in a cage abandoned on the side of the road. He even came with a note - My name is Squishy. I am a very good boy. Please take good care of me. Holly alerts the local shelter and agrees to foster the lovable pup and he makes himself right at home with the other pets at the inn. The inn starts to fill up with guests in town for a legal education seminar. One of the lawyers is Holly's ex Ben Hathaway who assumes he can stay again in Holly's private guest room. She also notices the rest of the group doesn't know about the EX part of their relationship. Add to the mix a man recently released from prison where he was incarcerated for murdering a local man and now has decided to make Wagtail his home.  And a moonlight hike up the mountain to view the lunar eclipse. The town expected hundreds of visitors. One thing they didn't expect was one of the attorneys staying at the inn would fall to her death during the event. A fall that was not an accident. A fall in the same place where another murder occured several years earlier. It's time to bring the Wagtail Murder Club together. Holly, her mom, her grandmother, and Mr. Huckle, the Inn's butler, all gather in the private kitchen to discuss the current mysteries at hand - the murder - and the sweet Labrador who appears to have an important story of his own. ___ Ms. Davis has created such wonderful characters for this series. They are generous, kind with huge hearts, and adorable pets. I am always thrilled to catch up with them. But this time I wanted to jump right into the pages when Holly made a gigantic error in judgment. I wanted to rewind the situation to prevent her from doing something I knew would hurt someone badly. Humans make errors in real life so it is a given that characters in books will make errors but this one was something major that I wasn't sure how the author was going to fix. I need to buy myself a T-shirt that says "emotionally attached to fictional characters" because I was really angry at Holly and almost put the book down. But I knew I had to trust the author because she would and did bring Holly back where she belonged. It is a true testament to Ms. Davis's creativity and writing that her readers become truly invested in her characters. These are some of my favorite cozy characters for good reason. The mystery was complicated with several suspects spanning all the subplots to make isolating a murderer a difficult task. The Wagtail Murder Club came up with many theories and assigned each other different tasks to try to ferret through the clues. There were some shady things going on with the lawyers but there was a lot more to their stories. Holly did a lot of running around and she surprisingly found a crucial piece of evidence that started to put things into perspective. I did pin down one small part of the mystery early but then was up in the air about everything else. The author plotted out a complex story tying an old murder to a new one that kept me captivated until all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. I truly wish Wagtail was a real place. I would love to treat my Australian Cattle Dog - Daisy and my husband to a vacation there. We would enjoy the restaurants and all the special events but my dream vacation would be joining The Wagtail Murder Club to help them solve a murder. I am sure Daisy would become fast friends with Trixie and Gingersnap and help in any way she could. I can easily picture us in Holly's golf cart headed out to follow a suspect or a clue. The Wagtail Murder Club was a Perfect Escape. The fantastic characters evoked real emotions that tugged at my heart. The story was well-plotted and written with a fabulous ending that made me so happy. My only complaint is that my visit to Wagtail ended much too soon. I try to slow down to enjoy each moment but the pages just fly when I get all caught up in one of these stories. While each book in this series can be read on its own you are cheating yourself if you don't get to know these characters and the super pet-friendly town of Wagtail, Virginia from the start. I voluntarily reviewed an Advance Reader Copy. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Thank you to Krista Davis, Berkley, and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC. Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent   About the Author New York Times Bestselling author Krista Davis writes the Paws and Claws Mysteries set on fictional Wagtail Mountain, a resort where people vacation with their pets. The first book in the series is the New York Times Bestselling Murder, She Barked. Krista also writes the Domestic Diva Mysteries and the Pen & Ink Mysteries. Like her characters, Krista has a soft spot for cats, dogs, and sweets. She lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia with dogs, cats, and a hidden stash of chocolate. Webpage  Facebook   Pinterest   Also written by Krista Davis Find all of Krista's books HERE.  Thanks to the AUTHOR I have 1 copy to give away! The contest is open to anyone over 18 years old with a US address. Duplicate entries will be deleted. Void where prohibited. You do not have to be a follower to enter but I hope you will find something you like here and become a follower. Followers Will Receive 2 Bonus Entries For Each Way They Follow. Plus 2 Bonus Entries For Following My Facebook Fan Page. Add this book to your WANT TO READ shelf on GoodReads for 3 Bonus Entries. Follow Berkley Mystery on Facebook for 2 Bonus Entries.  Pin this giveaway to Pinterest for 3 Bonus Entries. If you share the giveaway on Threads, Facebook, or anywhere you will receive 5 Bonus Entries For Each Link. The  Contest Will End on February 18, 2025, at 11:59 PM CST The Winner Will Be Chosen Using Random.org The Winner will be notified by email and posted here in the sidebar. Click Here For Entry Form Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. Receiving a complimentary copy in no way reflected my review of this book. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” “As an Amazon Associate, I earn a commission from qualifying purchases.” I am also an affiliate of Bookshop.org and I will earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase.”     Read the full article

[riverdamien]

We Are Free to Choose!

"Sloughing Towards Galilee!

"We Are Free To Choose!

"If anyone wants to be first, he/she must be last of all and servant of all." . ."Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the One who sent me. (Mark 9:35-37 Net Version)."

=======================

Fifteen-year-old Carlos Acutia, soon to be "Saint Carlos" once said:

"What does it matter if you win a thousand battles if  you can not win against your own corrupt passions? It doesn't matter. The real battle is with ourselves."

    How true he is, for I get irritated, and come across as angry, over what are little things, and I feel guilty afterward!

    When I was given my first student parish at 18, my District Superintendent, who continued working until he dropped dead at 100 said to me: "River never tell people your age, it is your business, and they will use it to judge and categorize you, never give away your age!"

    I do not ever tell my age for those very reasons, and I have people who I refuse, make fun of me, criticize, and tease me, and it hurts. I had fifteen emails after my blog yesterday from strangers asking me my age, and I was irritated. People I do not even know!

    Last night I went longboarding with a young friend and listened to him as we did so. Through the years I have been told, "You need to grow up, you are too old to longboard you are going to break your neck, "well considering the fact I have been stabbed shot, and beaten up, I think I am safer longboarding. At least I can run the opposite way! At any rate, I never tell my age, because it will limit my ministry and limit me! Age is a means of categorizing!

    Fr. Henry Nouwen gave the best answer when he commented:

"Is aging away to the darkness or a way to the light? It is not given to anyone to make a final judgment since the answer can only be brought forth from the center of our being. No one can decide for anyone else how his or her aging shall or should be. It belongs to the greatness of men and women that the meaning of their existence escapes the power of calculations and predictions. Ultimately, it can only be discovered and affirmed in the freedom of the heart. There we are able to decide between segregation and unity, between desolation and hope, between loss of self and a new, re-creating vision. Everyone will age and die, but this knowledge has no inherent direction. It can be destructive as well as creative, oppressive as well as liberating.

    John Donahue and Daniel Harrington note that in Aramaic the word talya can mean "servant" and child". So whoever welcomes the servant, welcomes Jesus as well.

    Jesus tells us in serving we come face to face with God. One aspect of service that I seek to present is being visible to the "powers" in their inhumanity to our fellow humans, by sitting at City Hall, this week on Friday at noon with a sign saying:

"Homeless People Are Made in God's Image!

Come and Serve In the Desert of Compassion!

    The Mayor commented that it is time to show compassion by making people get forcing people to get service, which is not true of compassion. So I invite you to join me at 11:00 a.m. on Friday on the Polk Street side of City Hall.

    On Thursday, I am joining the Black Clergy and Allies on a Forty-day fast for a Free, Fair, and Safe Election by fasting from all social media and following Daniel's Fast Diet,. Join me!

    People often ask: "Who is Christ for you? Jesus came truly alive in my years on the street.  The older I become, the closer he becomes, for ultimately Jesus is all that we have.

    I am beginning to understand each day the suffering of Jesus in the midst of all of the suffering in the world.

    Jesus suffers with the ill, the homeless, dispossessed. He suffers with the wealthy, he hurts with each of us, for there is the spark of the Divine within, the potential to reveal the fullness of God! Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

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

May the work of

“figuring people out”

Never replace the work of knowing people

And loving people

And giving them room

To confound

And inspire

And surprise me

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

30th Anniversary Celebration

Victor’s Pizza

6 p.m.

November 9, 2024

WE ARE BEGGARS! WE REALLY NEED MONEY--Really Badly At the moment!

FOR FOOD, SOCKS, HARM REDUCTION AND OTHER SERVICES!

P.O. Box 642656

415-305-2124

temenos@gmail.com

pay pal

www.temenos.org

(Temenos and Dr. River seek to remain accessible to everyone. We do not endorse particular causes, political parties, or candidates, or take part in public controversies, whether religious, political or social--Our pastoral ministry is to everyone!

Temenos Catholic Worker

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

Dr. River Damien Carlos Sims, D.Min, D.S.T.

e

  .

[yaretsblog]

Eres mi todo, la luz que ilumina mi camino, la fuerza que me impulsa a seguir adelante. Cada vez que nos encontramos, mi corazón late con fuerza y solo puedo expresar lo mucho que te amo antes de seguir adelante. Mis palabras apenas rascan la superficie de lo que siento por ti, porque en realidad, no hay palabras suficientes para describir la inmensidad de mi amor por ti.

Eres la puesta de sol más impresionante, la tranquilidad en medio de la tormenta, el refugio en el caos de la vida. Estoy sinceramente enamorada de ti y estaría dispuesta a gritarlo al mundo entero. Nuestro camino juntos ha sido único y especial, y sé que en ti he encontrado mi eternidad, mi amor verdadero.

Gracias a ti, he conocido el verdadero significado del cuidado y la apreciación. Estoy dispuesta a ser tu fuerza cuando más lo necesites, tu apoyo incondicional en cada paso del camino. Amarte es mi mayor prioridad y estar lejos de ti es un dolor profundo que solo se alivia con tu presencia.

Nuestro amor es especial, único y eterno. Estamos destinados a estar juntos, a enfrentar cada desafío de la vida de la mano. Te amo con una pasión que trasciende el tiempo y el espacio, y estaré esperando pacientemente el momento en que pueda volver a estar cerca de ti, mi amor. ❤️🌹 @hamdan-fazza @yaretsblog

You are my everything, the light that illuminates my path, the force that drives me to move forward. Every time we meet, my heart pounds and I can only express how much I love you before moving on. My words barely scratch the surface of how I feel for you, because in reality, there are not enough words to describe the immensity of my love for you.

You are the most impressive sunset, the tranquility in the midst of the storm, the refuge in the chaos of life. I am sincerely in love with you and I would be willing to shout it to the whole world. Our path together has been unique and special, and I know that in you I have found my eternity, my true love.

Thanks to you, I have known the true meaning of care and appreciation. I am willing to be your strength when you need it most, your unconditional support every step of the way. Loving you is my highest priority and being away from you is a deep pain that is only relieved by your presence.

Our love is special, unique and eternal. We are meant to be together, to face every challenge in life hand in hand. I love you with a passion that transcends time and space, and I will be patiently waiting for the moment when I can be close to you again, my love. ❤️🌹