#i’m actually fine now - this was a thought from earlier when i was still struggling with my lab report

[starbuck]

you know, i think my real issue is that i always have to be professional. gotta be professional at work, gotta create professional-level school work, gotta be professional as a volunteer…

what if i broke everything in my house and screamed until i lost my voice?

[nereidprinc3ss]

omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!

AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too

i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)

spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine

Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing. 

It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up. 

“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?” 

“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.” 

“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.” 

“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.” 

“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?” 

“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.” 

Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks. 

“You--are you driving here right now?” 

“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—” 

Some of the icy despair melts in your chest. 

“Of course, I want to.” 

“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?” 

You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective. 

“Drive faster.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you. 

“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist. 

“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin. 

As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around. 

“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you. 

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?” 

Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior? 

“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth. 

“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.” 

He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car. 

“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles. 

“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.” 

Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over. 

“I told you it was bad.” 

You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.” 

Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing. 

“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.  

“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.  

There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so— 

“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says. 

“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines. 

“How do you think your final went?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly. 

“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.” 

“You absolutely are not an idiot.” 

“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.” 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” 

The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens. 

“What? I don’t—that’s not—" 

“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?” 

“Yes!” 

“Don't lie to me.” 

“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”  

He squeezes your hand. 

“That’s why you failed.” 

The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation. 

“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest. 

“I know, baby.” 

His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface. 

A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain. 

“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.” 

“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.” 

It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.  

After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by. 

“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.” 

“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back. 

“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more. 

“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Pretty please?” 

“Nope.” 

“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.  

He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it. 

“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.” 

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.” 

You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it. 

“I’ll love you no matter what you do.” 

You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up. 

“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears. 

[pretzel-box]

Hello, I’m here now. I just wanted to say I like ur works, I think As Above So Below is my favorite series of yours so far.

And also, I wanted to make a request, cuz it was just my birthday and fuck it why not-

So like. Sebastian with an axolotl experiment reader (fem or gn), cuz Urbanshade was like “You know what would be dope? Regeneration powers” and because of all the injuries reader received, because they were big or very frequent, their body couldn’t keep up and so they are smol

(with a hint of possessive/yandere/whatever-the-fuck, maybe?)

may the tumblr deities guide this ask, that it may not be eated by the ask box, thank you for putting up with my annoying, okay bye :3

-🍪

Tags: Slight comedy, reader and wall dweller eat each other?

Words: 1k

Authors note: Happy Late Birthday! I'm sorry for the wait. I combined the ask with another one!

It was a challenge in itself to keep a close eye on you. At least, that’s what Sebastian thought as he glanced at you from the corner of his shop. He leaned against the wall, trying to focus on the file in his lower hand while his other two arms were crossed.

Earlier, you had quietly assured him that you could handle stocking the shelves and organizing the inventory on your own, despite your slightly smaller stature. You had carried heavy boxes from the back without a complaint, determined to prove you were capable.

Sebastian was surprised every time he saw you in action. Your odd regeneration skills were both a blessing and a strange curiosity he had witnessed more times than he cared to count. If it weren’t for your ability to regrow limbs, your most defining trait would be your absolute innocence. You had no sense of self-defense, no instinct to attack. The only time you’d ever react was to bite—though that was just to check if something was food.

Sebastian couldn’t help but admire your resilience, despite everything Urbanshade had put you through. But it also worried him. The world wasn’t kind to creatures like you, and without him there, it was hard to imagine how long you’d last in an actual fight.

His eyes flicked back to you as you struggled with one of the heavier boxes. For a moment, he considered stepping in, but he stopped himself. You were stubborn in your own quiet way, always wanting to prove you could handle things on your own.

Still, the smallness of your form tugged at his protective instincts. He pushed away from the wall, tossing the file onto the counter as he slithered over.

“Here, let me help,” he said, reaching out to lift the box effortlessly with his upper arms. You looked up at him, blinking in mild surprise, but didn’t protest.

“I was doing fine,” you murmured, though your voice lacked any real defiance.

Sebastian smirked. “Sure you were. But there’s no harm in having an extra set of hands—especially when I’ve got three of them.”

You gave a small smile, a soft warmth in your eyes as you watched him set the box onto the shelf. He noticed how you seemed content to let him help, not because you couldn’t handle it, but because you trusted him. That trust was something fragile, something he wasn’t sure he deserved, but he wouldn’t break it.

As you moved to the next box, Sebastian’s mind wandered. He had seen your abilities save you countless times, but each time you regenerated, it chipped away at you. Urbanshade’s relentless experiments had drained your body, and every injury, every regrowth, took more of a toll. He knew you weren’t as strong as you used to be—your small frame was proof of that.

He glanced over at you, your eyes focused on your task. "You know," he started, his tone softer than usual, "you don’t always have to push yourself so hard. I’m here. You don’t have to do everything alone."

You paused, looking up at him again, your wide eyes reflecting a quiet understanding. “I know. But… it’s important to feel useful. To do something.”

Sebastian nodded, respecting your determination. He couldn’t imagine what it was like—to feel so fragile, yet still want to help. His grip tightened on the box he was holding.

“Well, just remember, you don’t have to prove anything to me. You’ve already done more than enough.”

For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, broken only by the soft thud of boxes being set on the shelves. But in that quiet, an unspoken understanding passed between you. You didn’t need to say it, and neither did he—Sebastian would protect you, no matter how much you wanted to prove yourself.

As the last box was finally stacked, Sebastian stood back, arms folded, watching you with a faint smile. “See? Not so bad with a little help, huh?”

You looked at him, offering a rare grin. “Maybe not.”

Just as you finished stacking the last box, a faint noise echoed from the far corner of the shop. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, his body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance.

“You hear that?” he muttered, his voice low.

You nodded, your wide eyes darting in the direction of the sound. Before either of you could react, something small and fast darted out from behind a shelf—a wall dweller, skittering across the floor in its typical, chaotic manner. Its pale skin and spindly limbs flashed in the dim light, catching both you and Sebastian off guard.

The wall dweller moved first, throwing itself on you and biting into your arm like a piece of cheese.

Before Sebastian could move to intercept it, your instincts kicked in. Without thinking, you lunged at the creature, mouth open and teeth bared. In one swift motion, you chomped down on the wall dweller’s arm as well—not to attack, but because it was your way of testing if things were food.

Sebastian’s eyes widened in shock. "Hey, wait—"

The wall dweller let out a startled yelp, wriggling in your grasp, while you blinked in confusion, still holding onto its arm with your sharp little teeth. The creature’s skin tasted strange, and you quickly realized it was, in fact, actually edible.

You immediately released it, stepping back with an apologetic look as the wall dweller scampered away, rubbing its arm and glaring at you. Sebastian couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the tension breaking as he watched the scene unfold.

“Well… that’s one way to defend yourself,” he said, shaking his head in amusement. “Not sure biting’s going to work in every situation, though. But it healed your arm.”

You stood there, blinking up at him, embarrassed but still unsure what else you could’ve done, then you glanced down on your healed limb. “It… wasn’t food,” you murmured quietly.

Sebastian snorted, wiping a tear from his eye. “Yeah, I figured. But maybe next time, let me handle the wall dwellers, alright?”

You nodded, your cheeks warming slightly. Though your instincts had failed this time, Sebastian didn’t seem mad—just amused, and maybe a little impressed.

The wall dweller, still grumbling under its breath, disappeared into a vent, but Sebastian was already back to his usual self, arms crossed and that familiar smirk playing on his lips.

“Nice try, though,” he teased. “At least you gave it something to chew on too.”

[soobnny]

loving is terrifying — han jisung. best friends to lovers. accidental confessions (1.6k words)

in the midst of ranting, han jisung accidentally confesses he’s in love with you

“And if I burn the whole school down, would you bail me out of jail, Hanji?”

You’re still only a few sentences into the important speech you were asked to write, and you’re starting to feel agitated, chewed up pencil carving out your thoughts on paper before finding its way abandoned on your desk.

It’s been a few hours, and you’d chosen to put the pencil down lest you want to bring yourself to insanity.

Pretty lies usually come easy to you, but now they’re burning holes into your skull and flicking the ashes into your brain. In the reprieve, all you can think about is your anger for the authority.

“Bold of you to assume I won’t be your accomplice.” Jisung retorts from where he’s seated next to you on the floor, arms crossed behind his head as he leans against his couch.

“There’s just so much wrong in the system. Their code of rules deprive students of their creativity. Only the top students have a multitude of opportunities waiting for them. And don’t get me started on how the authorities put so little value into culture and societal issues. Everything is wrong, just wrong in all ways!”

There’s a word count in Jisung’s head on how many times you’ve said wrong in one sitting, but he’s looking at you with a hint of something in his eyes. Almost adoration.

“And we can change it by burning the school down?” A tone of amusement is laced in your best friend’s voice, though you fail to search for a trace of judgment.

“We can start there. Then the world.” You take the pencil back and fiddle with it between your fingers.

“The world? That’s very ambitious of you.”

You glare at him.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t be by your side. I like ambitious.” Jisung smiles at you, making sure to lock his eyes with yours so you can see heavy genuineness where his pupils are. “What’s the next step then?”

“Climate change.”

Jisung throws his head back in quiet laughter, and the slight movement allows you a whip of his laundry detergent from the white shirt he’s wearing. “Okay, climate change.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” His lips quirk up into a smile, eyes morphing from crescents to a full moon as he struggles to defend his name. There is still laughter even in the way he licks the inside of his cheek and takes your hands in his.

You fail to copy his laughter.

“Your eyes are upset. Are they directed at me?” Jisung softens his voice, only speaking one his laughter has boiled down. He pulls you closer than you already are, and you don’t notice the way he grabs the pencil between your fingers in the process to set it down.

“Of course not.” You mumble. “I’m mad at everything else, at everything wrong.”

A tally adds to his word count.

You sigh when you let go of his hands to take the paper in your own, eyes leaden as they scan across the sentences you had bullshited earlier. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to write this.”

“Just scream it out.”

“What?”

“Scream out what you actually want to say.” He grins.

You gape at him.

“I’m not screaming in your living room. Your neighbors are going to think someone’s being murdered.”

“Then just say it. Whatever you want to say. Everything wrong.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay, I’ll start then.” He smiles, and it’s heart-warmingly encouraging. “I wish it was easier to ground myself. I live in my head most of the time, and opening up is hard, and I wish forming any form of relationship wasn’t so scary.”

“Ji—“

“Okay, now your turn.”

“We are not going to ignore what you just said.”

“I said, your turn.”

“Jisung.”

“Please?” He places a hand over yours, and it’s enough for your brain to short circuit.

“Alright, fine. But we are going to talk about it later.”

“Now, what about those things that are wrong?” Jisung asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“Well, uh— our poor education system, that’s for one. And, the government. Blatant sexism too, how stupid the patriarchy is, how I still can’t parallel park for the life of me.”

You start with sporadic things, the ones that instantly pop in your head when you think about things that make you upset, and as you continue to talk, you dig a little deeper, and you don’t even realize you’ve stood up and your hands are flailing around like a salesman by the second.

“And, don’t even get me started on the transportation system. It’s so dumb how car-centered design came to be because how is it that the people who have access to private vehicles also have the easiest routes over the less fortunate who walk or commute? Like, why do we have to adjust to the roads?”

There’s a long list of things you want to say, finally letting loose and narrating all the things you’ve kept locked away in the back of your mind because you’re with the one person you can trust. When you meet Jisung’s gaze, he’s looking at you in awe.

“I hate how we’re branded as prodigies when we were younger. I hate the expectations that come with it, that we have to be great all the time, and, oh, this actually feels really good.”

Jisung chuckles at the way you come to a sudden realization, but he’s always known you were wiser beyond your years. “You’re brilliant.”

“Well, you have to say something too!”

Jisung fiddles with his fingers, trying to think of where to start. Though, the brilliance that is you and the opportunity of having this moment with you is enough motivation for him to follow suit.

“Uh, it’s so scary how superficial people are nowadays, and how so quickly they’re let down. It stresses me out how a single mistake could cost you so many relationships, but at the same time, who will stress out if not me? And it makes me realize how lucky I am to have the people in my life, and having an opportunity to talk like this really fuels my positivity in life, and it makes me realize even more how much I strongly feel like my life is for you guys, and there is nothing more important to me than being able to be a good person for you guys, like you. I wish I could be the bestest friend for you, maybe even more than that, but fuck, loving is so scary so I wish you’ll never find out how I’m so so in love with you— wait.”

The room falls silent and he’s thinking of a thousand different ways to die on the spot. He’s embarrassed. This is embarrassing, and he’s thinking it really wouldn’t be too late to jump off the bedroom window and hope for the best. A thousand different ways, maybe pretend he never said anything, stand still and maybe you’d think he wasn’t there in the first place. A thousand different ways.

“Han Jisung.”

“Soooo, haha, where were we in your speech again?”

Jisung doesn’t meet your eyes for the fear of rejection. He doesn’t think he has the heart to handle it right now, especially not after his accidental confession.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About how superficial people are? Of course, it’s so scary. Hey, did I tell you about the tim—“

“Is being in love with me something wrong?”

He falls silent, and you can visibly see him start to panic, and his hands are pressed together as if in a prayer as he’s shaking his head profusely. “No, oh god no, it’s not. Honestly, it’s one of the only things I’m sure of, and that says a lot because I’m not sure of anything. I’m not even sure I’m in the right course or the right school or if I’m spending my money the right way, or if I’m even gonna live tomorrow, but fuck, loving you and everything about you is something I will never question.”

You can feel yourself start to smile, and Jisung finds himself copying you. It’s one of the first things he knew he loved about you—your smile, and the way you think, and the sound of your laughter. Despite his erratic heart beating and his fear of this exact moment, he still finds himself smiling when you do.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“What?”

You can visibly see the gears in his head turn, and he’s writing a story he doesn’t know the ending to just yet, but the beginning is so beautiful because it’s with you. Then, he laughs. It’s breathy, and you can almost hear the relief. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I did.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“I’m in love with you, Han Jisung.”

“I’m going to die.”

You laugh, and then he snaps back into reality.

“Can I kiss you?” His tone is so careful, but there’s a hint of something you can only recognize as a slight desperation—like he’s been thinking of it a while.

Jisung reaches out to wrap his arms around your waist, albeit a little shy. It’s a pattern that’s already so familiar. He isn’t a stranger to hugging you, in fact, he’s done it a million times, but the connotations to this one is a little different, and he can’t think straight at the possibility that you might actually consent to letting him kiss you.

“Okay.”

Words that haven’t left being translated into the motion of his lips moving against yours. Honestly, he doesn’t even know who went in for the kiss first. All he knows is his hands are gently rested on your waist and he’s actually kissing you right now, and you can feel the way he’s smiling into the kiss.

It takes a few minutes for you two to pull away, a little out of breath, and he leans in to try and kiss you again but your noses bump against each other’s, and the pair of you can’t help but laugh at how the events of the night had turned.

Jisung marvels at the way everything feels so simple, so right.

“I’m not dreaming, right? Like this is actually happening?”

You laugh even more.

Jisung’s always been afraid of venturing into the unknown, always kept his feelings hidden, and he’s always loathed his mouth for being so uncontrolled with the things he says. But now, with you in his arms, he couldn’t be any more happier about the slip of his tongue and how being with you feels like one of the rare rights among all the wrongs.

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟳 |

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“This isn’t what I meant when I said that we needed to talk.” You roll your eyes at Cole’s griping, though the fact that he hadn’t removed the earbud out of his ears tells you more than you need to know. 

“Just shush for a moment and let me relax a little, okay?”

He lets you be, leaning back and letting his head relax on the brick wall behind him. After he’d suddenly dropped the whole bomb of needing to talk and all, he’d summoned Rocky and (dragged) brought you to the nearby rooftop.

Instead of actually talking about your feelings and thoughts, however, you’d pulled out your phone and earbuds, shoving one into his ear when he sat next to you and shushing him with a glare. 

As the music plays, your racing heart starts to calm. Staring up at the sky, you watch the clear blue slowly fade into hues of pink and yellow, the colourful rays dancing together as if they were in an otherworldly waltz of their own. 

“I’m still sorry, by the way.” You turn your head to see his closed eyes and tilted head back, exposing his Adam's apple. He speaks slowly, as if carefully choosing the right words in his mind to mould a cautious sentence. “The day we first met, Lloyd and I had just been mobbed earlier by a group of fans again, and I just wanted some quiet time to myself.”

Black irises meet yours, a shared stare filled with silent apology. “It’s fine,” you allow a slow smile onto your face. “I’d have reacted much worse if I were you. I’m sorry about hitting you though.”

He laughs, glancing down at his abdomen. “What, this old thing? Barely felt it. Maybe I’ve gotten used to your punches.” He chuckles when you shove him once more with a playful scowl, the air between you both settling into a much more relaxed mood. 

He hesitates, allowing the song to play for a few more bars before deciding to broach the long-awaited topic. “So what’s got you so riled up about soulmates anyway? I mean, you made your dislike pretty clear, but I thought most people look forward to meeting theirs.”

“That’s exactly what makes it annoying.” An exasperated sigh falls from your lips, running a hand through your hair. “Just because I have a soulmate doesn’t mean I have to automatically like them, do I?” 

He winces. “I didn’t think I was that bad…” He mumbles, looking down at his shoes and kicking away a small pebble. 

“No, it’s not- I just…” A groan leaves you, eyes fixed back onto a passing cloud as you try to sort out the mess of thoughts all clumped together in your head. “It’s complicated, okay? It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Right,” he nods. “Can’t argue there.” He hides a weak grin when you shove him with an annoyed laugh, copying your posture and looking up at the clouds. “So why? Why all this?” He gestures aimlessly. 

The answer’s hard to pinpoint, unable to conjure the right words to encapsulate the surge of emotion in your heart as it swells. The silence between you grows heavier with each passing second.

He notices your quiet struggle, and for a moment, the air between you both feels fragile. Breaking the silence, he speaks, his voice softer than usual. “I didn’t think I’d ever have a soulmate,” he admits, the rawness in his tone catching you off guard.

His gaze grows distant, barely focusing on the clouds in the sky. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, one that mirrors your own uncertainty.

“After my mom died, I saw what losing her did to my dad. He was... broken. I never wanted to go through that kind of pain.” He pauses for a moment, gathering the courage to continue. “When I became a ninja, I thought I was untouchable. I had a purpose. I didn’t need anyone, least of all a soulmate.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and it hits you—his resistance, his fear, the walls he’s built. He takes another breath, a tremble in his words as he speaks. “I thought I didn’t need anyone then, and I’m still not sure I do now.”

His admission stirs something inside you, the unease morphing into something more complicated. You want to say something, anything, but the words seem stuck behind the unspoken tension that lingers between you both.

“Looks like we both don’t need soulmates then.”

Wow, I need to stop talking. Forever.

A flicker of surprise registers in his gaze as he processes your words. Shaking his head with a nervous laugh, a moment of silence passes between you both. Guilt starts to eat away at the edges of your conscience, mentally berating yourself for your response. 

He stands up, his fingers brushing against the earbud before handing it back, hesitation flickering in his movement. You stare at his outstretched hand, taking a deep breath as the words rip themselves out of your throat, an unspoken secret you’ve never shared with anyone.

“My mom and dad got divorced when I was 15.” The instant relief you feel is startling, like a weight that had been dragging you under finally loosened its grip. For so long, it had gnawed at you, a parasitic leech feeding on your spirit.

Well, until now. 

The sensation of a freshly opened wound is unnerving, raw and exposed to your soulmate who stands in front of you. He’s completely silent, which only adds to the growing nervousness that begins to spill over the jug holding everything inside. 

Coughing, you snatch the earbud from his hand and roll up the wires in a hurry. Standing up, you refuse to meet his eyes. “So, where’s Rocky? I’m pretty tired, so I kinda have to get home now.”

Another moment passes before Rocky materialises behind you both. I guess he’s finished recharging his dragon, you think to yourself as it bends down, sensing you didn’t really want to talk with his owner for the time being.

The ride back home is quiet, though your arms had found themselves wrapped around his waist once more from fear of falling off. You’d allowed yourself a brief moment of resting your forehead against his shoulder for a moment, breathing in his cologne that calms your racing heart. 

As the seconds pass, you can sense your raw wound slowly patching itself up, like a hastily plastered band-aid. It shouldn’t still ache like this, not after all these years. Yet, even now, the mere mention of your mom has a way of pulling at the fragile seams, threatening to tear them open all over again.

It’s like what your mom always said when you were younger. You’d always been an active and mischievous kid who constantly found herself in accidents. Every time you came running to her, she'd kneel down, her hands gentle but firm, tending to the wound. “Remember,” she’d say, “if you acknowledge it, you give it power. So ignore it, and it’ll go away.”

Back then, it worked. Chanting those words under your breath as she cleaned your wounds felt like a secret spell, something to cling to. But now? Now that you’re older, wiser, and have seen more than just playground accidents? It feels hollow. Because no matter how hard you try to ignore it, the pain still lingers.

Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re older now and more mature, but the phrase still stood strong. If you didn’t acknowledge the wound, then it wouldn’t hurt. If you didn’t acknowledge the fights behind closed doors, they didn’t happen. If you didn’t acknowledge the divorce, it wasn’t real.

But it is.

The thought makes you inhale shakily, choosing to press your forehead against his back, wanting nothing more than to burrow further into a deeper, darker hole within yourself. His back tenses slightly before relaxing, and you can sense his concerned gaze as he glances down at you before turning back to face the front.

He lets you remain there for the rest of the ride home, pretending not to notice your shaky breaths and occasional tightening of your arms around his waist. Opening your eyes, you spot the comic book store below, and it dawns on you that he’d taken the longer route back to your home. 

Suddenly, breathing gets a little easier. 

When Rocky finally lands, you’re back in your usual upright position. He lets you dismount first, then dematerializes his dragon, having learnt from the previous experience. You both head toward the building, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, and an odd sense of ease settling between you.

As you pause in front of the lift, you press the button, the soft glow of the floor numbers flickering in the reflection of the glass doors. "Thanks for today," you murmur, your voice quieter than intended but sincere. You catch his gaze in the reflection, his eyes meeting yours. The corners of his lips curve into a small, relieved smile.

“Maybe the next time we meet, it’ll be less awkward.” He jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah. Next time.” His words don’t go unappreciated, the warmth in your own voice surprising you. The lift arrives with a soft ding, and as you step inside, something makes you hesitate. You keep the doors from closing, holding the button down.

He’s already started to turn away, ready to head back. “Friends?” The word slips out, catching slightly in your throat. Extending the olive branch feels strange, but somehow necessary.

His body stiffens for a beat, caught off guard by the offer. Slowly, he turns back toward you, his expression shifting into a wide, genuine grin. “Friends,” he repeats, the relief in his voice matching your own.

As the doors close between you, you both share a nod of understanding, your expression mirroring his. The shared gaze filled with a sense of warmth and genuine trust doesn’t break, until the lift finally disappears from his view. 

— — — — — 

As the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, you strangle the bitch for doing so. 

When it comes to Duolingo streaks at least. 

“Español? More like espafar,” you mutter, pressing the home button rapidly when the screen shows your broken streak. You’d been 7 days strong into the Spanish course but forgot all about it until now.

The lift doors open, and Holly steps in with a grin. “Buenos dias!”

“Don’t even,” you groan, showing her the screen of the animated green bird shaking its head in disappointment. She raises her brows. “I just keep forgetting everything except for like, the simple phrases. Why is it even teaching me how to say ‘the bottle is big?’” 

“Good point. I don’t think the topic of bottle sizes comes up in conversation often.” She agrees, stepping out of the lift when the doors open on the ground floor. 

“We still gotta find a company to research,” you grumble, wincing as the bright sun decides to aim its rays directly at you. Alan - another of your professors who insisted you remove the Dr. from his name had assigned your class another project on top of the already existing ones from other classes. 

“I’m basing mine off Papa’s Pizzeria,” she shrugs, narrowly avoiding a kid on his bicycle, the ringing of bells sounding through the bustling streets as they deliver newspapers from door to door. “His business model is crazy. He’s got like, what, four successful franchises?”

You sigh, the reminder of the cake you’d placed an order for just a single week away from being collected. The only reason why you’d even placed the order so early is because you knew you’d forget if you didn’t. Plus, if not for Cole’s presence, the earliest slot would’ve been months away.

“I haven’t decided mine yet,” you say, swinging your arms up in the air as you yawn, the effects of your morning americano already wearing off. Blinking sleepily, the bright lights of a building looming in the distance catch your eye. 

Huh. You squint a little, reading the words off the top. Borg Industries.

“Is that a big company around here?” Holly blinks, glancing from you to the big neon signboard in the sky. 

“You’re joking.”

The shrug you offer in return draws a snort of disbelief. “Borg Industries? The most innovative, cutting-edge tech alive? They make everything! Over two-thirds of the city uses Borg Industries products. What I would kill to sneak a look in their lab.” 

“Someone’s a fan,” you say sarcastically, flinching when she practically jolts upright. 

“Oh no, I’m not just a fan, I’m a fanatic.”

She halts in her tracks. “Actually, why don’t you do your project on it?”

You hum thoughtfully, mulling over the suggestion. “Sure,” you reply with a shrug. “Why not?”

“You can ask me anything,” she all but jumps in front of you with an excited smile. “I’ve been studying their stuff since I was a kid! My mom used to work for them, but she left because she got pregnant with my brother.”

“If I have any questions, you’ll be the first person I call. Or text. Most likely text.” The assurance makes her laugh, continuing the walk to the university. 

Luckily, today just has a few morning classes so you’re able to finish by 2pm. The iced latte you’d gotten on the way had been your primary source of fuel throughout the lectures and project discussions, chugging down the last of it as soon as class concluded. 

“That’s weird, what’s he doing here?” Glancing over at Holly, you follow her squinted gaze to a tall boy leaning against the wall next to the campus entrance. “What the fuck- Leo??”

You glance over, curiosity piqued. He looks up just as you approach, greeting Holly with a playful grin. “Hey, sis! You forgot your—” He pauses mid-sentence, his gaze landing on you. For a moment, you feel a chill, as if he’s sizing you up, but then he shakes it off, the charming smile returning.

He pushes himself off the wall, walking over to your friend with an air of effortless confidence. “Here you go,” he says, handing her a small package with a flourish, his demeanour playful and light.

“Thanks! You didn’t have to come all the way here,” she replies, genuinely grateful.

He shrugs, a cheeky glint in his eye. “Couldn’t let you go without your snacks, now could I?” He turns to you, his expression warm but with a hint of mischief. “And you must be the infamous friend I’ve heard so much about. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Infamous?” You question, fist-bumping him. “Not the wildest description I’ve ever gotten. I’m satisfied with that.” 

He pauses, turning to glance at his sister with a sceptical eye. “How’d you get someone as cool as her to be your friend? What’d you do, blackmail them?”

You grin. 

This is insanely validating. I like him.

“I did not,” Holly huffs, her cheeks flushing as she pushes her brother away with an embarrassed smile. “I gotta go for my elective now, have a safe trip home!” You wave her off with an amused smile, watching Leo protest vehemently to his sister. 

Upon reaching home, you quickly take a shower and change into a more relaxed fit. If you were gonna get beat up during a spar, you’d at least do it wearing lighter clothing.

A knock on your door draws your attention. Opening it reveals Emily holding a cup filled with a liquid so hot you can see the steam coming off the surface in wisps. “I made some tea for you.” Her voice is hesitant. 

Not again, you sigh internally. Every now and then she’d approach you with something like cookies or cake as a peace offering. You’ve always rolled your eyes and shut the door in her face.

However, you hesitate. Would it truly be so bad to accept it…? 

“It’s yuzu tea,” she interjects quickly, seizing the moment your silence creates. “I saw your friend’s mother today and gave her a whole tumbler. I was also hoping you could join us at the restaurant downtown for your dad’s birthday. I know you usually celebrate just the two of you, but… maybe this time we could celebrate together?”

Your heart sinks, frustration rising beneath the surface. Of course she’d ask for something in return. Stop pretending to be my mom. I never asked you to.

A part of you stops the harsh words from spilling past your lips, pressing them together. You know you’re being completely unfair to her, the recently opened wound beginning to throb. 

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

She blinks owlishly at your calm reaction, her hands remaining in the same position even after you remove the cup from her hands and drink from it. “Thanks,” you manage to say, angling yourself to squeeze past her figure in the hallway and walking to the door. 

Cole’s confession flashes through your mind as you glance at your dad who’s adjusting his tie in the mirror, steps slowing to a halt as you watch him hum in the bathroom.

“Hey munchkin, looking forward to your lesson today?” He spots you from the corner of his eyes, turning to you with a bright smile. 

You nod, adjusting your collar. “Yeah, thanks for signing me up for them.” 

His hands freeze, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Hiding a chuckle, you continue to the door, putting on your shoes and leaving quickly before they start asking questions. 

The phone rings in your pocket when you’re on the bus. Picking it up, you press it close to your ear as you alight, tapping the transit card on your way off. “Hello?”

“Class is cancelled today, Master Wu had to rush off to an appointment.”

“Oh.” You pull the phone away for a moment to see Cole’s name on the screen. “Why’re you the one calling me though?”

“We bumped into each other, but he forgot to let you know. He did tell me that dinner would be on us next time you come over after lessons though. Not like he’s paying me to cook anyway,” he grumbles at the last bit.

You hum in acknowledgement. “To be honest, I’m kinda…on the way already.” You admit.

“How near are you?”

You hesitate, your steps slowing to a halt. “Like…Right below the huge-ass mountain near? It’s chill though, I can just take the bus home.”

“No,” he pauses. “Just come on up. The rest of us are having Game Night, and we could use one more player.”

“Well…” You hum, glancing at the stairs. “If you say please, maybe I’ll consider it-”

“Please.”

Oh. Well, that was fast.

“You’re no fun, you know that, right?”

“You’re the one going up the stairs, aren’t you?” 

You pause, glancing down at the number of steps you’ve already walked. “Damn you, Brookstone.” His sharp laugh cuts off when you press the red button to hang up, continuing the climb with a roll of your eyes.

Reaching the doors of the monastery takes a significantly shorter amount of time than you’d expect, but it’s more likely due to the increased levels of physical activity through the amount of walking you do every day and Master Wu’s classes.

The couch potato in you is still not sure if you should be grateful for it or not.

Cole’s the one who greets you at the doors, leaning against them nonchalantly while waiting for you to reach. “About time.” He narrowly misses the punch you throw his way. 

“You couldn’t have asked Rocky to pick me up?”

“How could I? He’s resting right now.” You roll your eyes. “So how’s the project going?” He asks, referring to the one you'd been talking about over text a couple nights ago. 

“If you want, I could ask Papa to let you interview him,” Cole grins, taking the bag from you as you bend down to take off your shoes before stepping onto the varnished wooden floors. 

“It’s fine, I've changed companies. Ever heard of Borg Industries?” 

He tilts his head in thought. “I’ve heard about them, yeah. You're gonna do your project on them now?”

Your stomach growls, interrupting your sentence. The room you’re about to pass catches your eye, Cole raising a brow at your grin. Entering the kitchen to grab a snack from the private stash he’d shown you just last week, you eye the various bags of chips on the countertop. 

“You just got back from patrol?” At his nod, you veer toward the fridge and open it, grabbing a packet of frozen dumplings you’d seen him get during a random midnight grocery run at the convenience store nearby.

It’d been the first time you saw each other ever since ‘the talk’, but strangely enough, both of you immediately fell into lighthearted conversation when he asked about your classes.

He grabs the plate from a cupboard above. Spotting his fingers grasping at the edges of the plastic, you can sense the frustration brimming with every movement. Hiding a smile, you nonchalantly walk over and pull it away, examining it with the air of a professional before opening it with a simple tear.

“Call me mistaken but aren't you supposed to have, like, super strength?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head as you dump the soon-to-be delicious snack on the plate. He takes the now-filled plate from your outstretched hand, placing it into the microwave and turning it on.

“Now I just have to do research on Cyrus Borg. You wouldn’t happen to know his assistant or something, would you? That superstar ninjadom power would really come in handy right now, soulmate.” The conversation resumes as easily as it’d stopped, accepting the cup of tea he hands you and take a small sip. 

He takes a sip out of his own cup, shrugging. “I might know one of his assistants.” 

A solid thump echoes through the kitchen as you set down your cup, your gaze turning serious. “You better not be playing with me, Brookstone. I can and will drain you dry during Monopoly.”

“I’m just saying,” he points out, “that favours are a give and take. So, I’ll do you this favour and you do me another.”

“And what exactly is this favour?” Crossing your arms, you eye him with suspicion. 

“It’s no big deal. Just be Kai’s partner for Game Night.”

You blink, regarding him with scepticism. “That’s it? Just be his partner?” He nods, taking another sip. “Sure,” a slow grin spreads across your face. “I’ll do it. Then, you introduce me to this assistant and put in a good word.”

“Sure thing, soulmate.”

You watch him turn to take out the dishes from the dishwasher below the countertop, smiling softly. It’s almost insane how quickly everything had blown over. If not for him initiating the talk, you’re a hundred percent sure you would’ve continued to run away again and again until you’d been cornered.

In a way, you’re grateful for him. The whole romantic part of it would be sorted out by your future selves but for now? Being friends isn’t so bad. He sets the plate down, picks up a pair of chopsticks you’d set aside for use earlier and grabs a dumpling. 

You’re too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice he’d placed it closer to you, having poked a small hole to let the hot steam escape. “Gonna eat?” He asks through a mouthful, gesturing to the plate.

You pick up your chopsticks and pick up the dumpling closest to you, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a bite, and chewing slowly. Glancing up, you notice him looking away hurriedly. “What?” You ask with a blank stare. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Yeah, it’s over here.” He gestures to his left cheek and you use your knuckle to rub against the spot. “You missed it,” he huffs in amusement, leaning forward. Automatically closing your eyes as he draws near, you wait patiently. 

“Is it off yet?” His touch is almost feather-like, barely sensing it against your skin before you hear him sit back down in his seat. Hearing what you assume to be a sound of agreement, you open your eyes, only for them to widen at his red cheeks and teary eyes.

He uses his chopsticks to gesture at the hot dumplings as he chugs down a bottle of water, exhaling shakily when he finishes. “Hot.” Is all he can muster, roughly wiping away the tears while you dissolve into a fit of laughter.

After your initial laughter subsides, you let out a chuckle every now and then, continuing to eat. “Didn’t know you were here!” Looking up, you greet Jay with a casual wave as he saunters into the kitchen with a smug air about him.

“Heard you’re playing tonight. Prepare to get wrecked!”

“Please,” you scoff playfully, shoving off the arm he’d slung around your shoulders. “All the energy for my cancelled class is gonna go towards killing you guys off in Charades.”

“Don’t count your roosters before they hatch,” he shrugs in response, using Cole’s chopsticks to steal a dumpling. “Whose team are you on, anyway? Cole’s?”

“Kai’s.”

His arm freezes, and you can practically hear every muscle in his neck creak as he looks at Cole in silence. “...Kai?” He glances back down at you, his gaze filled with sorrow. “What did this despicable man do to make you agree?”

His arms are flung around your shoulders once more, but this time it’s in pity. “Wha- What did you make me agree to??” You demand, swivelling back toward Cole who simply smiles innocently as Jay pats your back.

Scowling at him, you bite down harshly on another dumpling, eyeing him in disbelief. Surely it wouldn’t be that bad, right? You don’t know what’ll happen or why Jay’s behaving this way, but surely it’s not terrible…

Right?

— — — — — 

“How the fuck are we getting negative points???” 

You can’t help the scoff of pure, utter bewilderment as you stare at the board in front of you. Turning to glare at Kai, he crosses his arms defensively. “Don’t blame me, you’re the one who couldn’t guess seagull.”

“In what universe was that a sea-” Cutting yourself off, you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to calm down. “A seagull has two wings and a beak. Not an amalgamation of parts from Willy Wonka’s Factory.”

“That’s what I drew! Two wings and a beak and a body!” He splutters, the offended expression on his face instantly making you lose whatever remaining hope you have for the night ahead.

A snicker from the left draws your attention, turning to see Cole, Jay, and Nya instantly masking their expressions. They raise their brows in sync as if it were your idea to team up with Kai in the first place.

Your fingers curl into a fist, wanting nothing more than to march over to your stupid, dumb soulmate, and grab his collar, shaking him till he admits he’s wronged you. Unfortunately, reality sinks in when he stands up for his turn.

You watch as Jay and Nya cheer when Lloyd gets the charades right, Kai sulking next to you. “Fuck it,” you declare, grabbing his arm and pulling him to sit back upright. “We’re gonna beat these losers.”

“Those are some fightin’ words,” Nya pipes up, Jay giving her arm a squeeze in encouragement. 

“Yeah, I don’t know about you but based on facts…” Lloyd trails off, pointing at the whiteboard as Cole uses a red marker to write down yet another point under their names, “we’re in the lead. And you know the rules-”

“I actually do not-”

“Losers treat the next group dinner.” Cole cuts you off, finishing Lloyd’s sentence as he grins maniacally at you. 

Blinking, you can feel the last bits of your dignity slipping away from under you. Your partner and you exchange glances, fist-bumping each other. “Well, looks like you’ll have to get more sponsorships because we’ll be enjoying the entire restaurant menu on you guys.” 

“Sure,” Jay snorts, waving dismissively. “On us. As if you’ll be able to beat Nya and me at Jenga.”

— — — — — 

“You cheated.”

You shrug with an air of innocence. “Poor Jay…Sad, sad little Jay who couldn’t keep the tower from collapsing in on itself…Playing Jenga with a degree in Engineering and still losing…” Kai sighs sadly with a shake of his head, bending down to pick up the scattered pieces.

“Ugh-” Jay splutters, throwing his hands up in the air. “You cheated somehow, and I’m going to prove it. Zane!”

“From my calculations, it seems that she really did beat you, Jay. She tricked you by-” You cut him off with a loud hush, shaking your head urgently even as he mumbles out a response from below your hands covering his mouth. 

“A magician never reveals their secrets.” You glare at Cole when he gently removes your hands from Zane’s face, the latter now able to speak properly. “What do you want, Brookstone?”

“Just for you to let Jay marinate in his loss.” He chuckles, helping you stand back up. He ignores his friend’s cry of outrage, taking the Jenga bricks from your hand. Kai stands up too, dumping whatever he has into Cole’s hands before sauntering off to the coffee table with a victorious grin.

“Everyone,” Pixel gasps, standing upright from her initial place on the couch. The room falls silent, tension cutting through the air as all eyes turn to her. “I tracked down the villain’s hideout. We need to go now.”

The playful banter evaporates, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and urgency. Cole’s expression shifts from playful to serious in an instant, and you can feel the weight of the moment pressing down. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice steady but laced with concern.

Pixel nods, her excitement palpable. “I’ve got the location and everything. This could be our chance to finally confront them.”

“You wanna come along?” Surprised by his sudden invitation, you grin. 

“If you insist.” 

“I didn’t but, okay-” He lets out a slight cry when you hit his arm with a scowl. You take a surprised step back when Pixal lifts up the dartboard attached to the wall, pressing a button that reveals a hidden lift. 

“Wait, you’re letting a civilian tag along?” Lloyd asks, placing an arm in front of you before you enter it. 

“It’ll be fine, she’s been taking lessons from Master Wu. Besides, it’d be great to have experience!” Kai points out. 

You nod along. “Yeah, what he said. Besides, I’m not just a civilian. I can hold my own,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “I want to help.”

Cole steps closer, his tone firm yet encouraging. “She’s right, Kai. We need all the hands we can get. Besides, she knows what’s at stake here.”

Lloyd sighs, his arm lowering reluctantly. “Fine. But if anything goes sideways, you’re getting out of there.”

Pixal beams at you, the lift doors sliding open with a soft hum. “See? It’s gonna be fine! Just think of it as a field trip.”

As you step into the lift, you feel a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling in your stomach. The doors close, and the lift descends quickly, the sound of machinery humming around you.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the rising tension. “And out of curiosity, am I considered an honorary ninja after this?”

Cole cringes, shaking his head at your bad attempt at lightening the mood. “Maybe after you defeat the Overlord single-handedly or have an attack that’s targeted at you.”

“Or have an arch-nemesis out to get you,” Lloyd (unhelpfully) chimes in.

“Let’s move!” Zane calls out, adjusting his gear as he steps into the lift behind you. “We can’t let this opportunity slip away.”

Jay grins widely. “Yeah! Let’s catch those bad guys!” His eagerness is infectious, and you can’t help but smile through the sudden nervousness making itself known in the depths of your stomach.

Pixal quickly outlines the plan. “We’ll split into two groups. Lloyd and Cole will take the east side while Kai and Zane cover the west. Jay and Nya, you’ll cover the entrance to make sure they can’t run. If you find anything suspicious, signal each other.”

“Got it!” Jay replies, cracking his knuckles. “I’m ready to show those crooks who they’re dealing with!”

The journey over is quick, all of them using their own vehicles while Cole lets you ride Rocky with him once more. The briny smell of the seawater hits your nose before the docks come into view, grimacing at the scent. 

“Smells like piss.” Cole hums in agreement at your comment, diving down and landing. Once you disembark, Rocky dematerializes. The remaining vehicles come to a stop next to you. 

“Stay sharp,” Kai reminds everyone, his expression serious. “If we see anything out of the ordinary, we regroup immediately.” You take the earpiece he hands to you, taking a step back when a screen materialises in front of your eyes. 

“Hello. Do not be alarmed, this is merely a scanner to help detect and zoom in on anything we might find.” Pixal’s voice makes itself known in your ear, glancing around to see the rest already prepared to get in position.

“Let’s move out!” Cole whispers, nodding toward the entrance of the warehouse. You follow closely behind, your heart racing with each step. In fact, you’re not entirely sure you’re breathing at all. 

As you approach the massive doors, you can see the dim light filtering through the cracks, casting ominous shadows on the ground. Cole raises his hand to signal for a moment of pause. 

“On three,” he murmurs, his voice steady. “One… two… three!”

With a collective effort, you all push open the heavy doors, the sound of creaking metal echoing in the silence. As the doors swing wide, you expect to be greeted by the sight of henchmen or the stolen goods you’ve been hunting for. Instead, you’re met with…nothing.

The warehouse is empty.

“Shit,” you breathe, stepping further inside, eyes scanning the vast, open space. Shadows dance along the walls, but there are no signs of life. No stolen items, no villains, nothing but an unsettling quiet.

“Where are they?” Kai asks, his voice filled with disbelief. “They should’ve been here!”

Cole’s brow furrows as he surveys the area. “They couldn’t have just vanished. There must be something…”

Pixel, still communicating through your earpiece, adjusts her scanner. “I’m not picking up any heat signatures or movement inside. It’s as if they cleared out completely.”

Cole shakes his head, his determination unwavering. “No, this doesn’t feel right. They wouldn’t just abandon their hideout without a reason.”

A dim light flickers in the corner, catching your attention and drawing you away from the chaos around you as everyone starts to argue. As you step through the plastic shroud that covers the entrance to a separate area, an unsettling chill washes over you. The room is filled with silence, broken only by the faint rustling of your footsteps.

A massive map of Ninjago looms on the wall, its edges frayed and yellowed from the lack of sunlight. Red circles and ominous question marks encircle specific regions, each marked with frantic scrawls of black and red ink. The museum is crossed out, a bold slash that feels more like a threat than a mere ‘X marks the spot’.

“Guys?” you call out, your voice wavering as an unsettling feeling creeps into your gut. As the scanner detects something hidden behind the corner of the map, you feel your pulse quicken. You lean in closer, your heart pounding in your chest as you spot the edge of a photo peeking out.

“What’d you find?” Cole's voice breaks the stillness as he enters the room, pulling the plastic aside with a flicker of curiosity. He steps in, but his expectation for a casual discovery fades when he sees your face contorted in confusion and dread.

With trembling hands, you reach out and gingerly pull the photo free, a sense of foreboding washing over you. As you hold it up, the dim light reveals a bird’s eye view of you at a café, oblivious to the world around you, immersed in your work. The image is haunting, a snapshot of a moment that feels both ordinary and deeply unsettling.

The café looks familiar, but something about the angle of the shot feels invasive as if someone was watching you from afar, hidden in the shadows. You notice the way your focus is entirely on your laptop, unaware of the eyes that might have been tracking your every move.

“Is that…?” Cole starts, his voice trailing off as he takes a step closer, peering at the photo with wide eyes. The room feels colder now, the air thickening with the weight of unspoken fear.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, the realisation dawning on you like a dark cloud. This wasn’t just a coincidence; someone had been watching you. “They know me? They’ve been watching me?”

Something clatters to the ground as the plastic shroud is pulling away once more, each ninja entering one by one. “What’s wrong?” Nya asks, noticing the sudden change in your demeanour. 

Everyone falls silent when you hold up the photo with a blank expression for them to see. They have similar reactions, looking at you with grave eyes before Jay breaks the silence. 

“Guess you’re an honorary ninja now.”

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

“Is what I’m seeing real, or am I just dreaming?” Jay slaps his wrist, hissing in pain when it stings. “Nope. Real, definitely real.”

“Shh!” Nya hushes him, excitement bubbling over as she grips the edges of the doorway. Her eyes widen as Cole pokes a hole in the dumpling, lifting it with a flourish before placing it down near you. “I bet she’s his soulmate. She has to be!”

“No shit,” Jay mutters sarcastically, but his tone shifts when he notices Nya’s raised brow. “But isn’t he all ‘Oooh, I’m big and buff and strong, I don’t need a soulmate because I’m sooo independent’?” He rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

Nya presses a hand over her mouth, desperately stifling a laugh at his poor imitation. “Look at them! They’re so sweet,” she sighs, fanning her flushed face.

“Yeah, they remind me of us,” Jay murmurs dreamily, only to blink when Nya glares at him. “What?”

“Don’t you remember how our first date went?” The reminder makes him stiffen, a sheepish laugh escaping him. He squeezes her arm, his eyes pleading for her to drop it.

“Oh!” His wish is granted as Nya’s attention shifts back to the scene unfolding before them. They both watch as Cole leans over the table, fingers hovering hesitantly above your cheek.

“Is it off yet?” you ask, oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. Cole’s face flashes with panic as he quickly brushes off whatever it is before sitting back down, fanning his flushed cheeks.

In that split second when you open your eyes, Cole grabs an unpoked dumpling and pops it into his mouth whole before letting out a pained grunt.

“What is he doing??” Nya practically whisper-shouts, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Well,” Jay allows himself a moment of smug satisfaction as he watches Cole immediately regret his life choices, chugging down the entire jug of water, “at least now you know who’s more lame.”

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

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 <-(So sorry i genuinely forgot to tag you!!!! forgive me pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻)

[hb-writes]

Alligators & Crocodiles

Summary: Mia is running late for an outing with her parents and Emmett helps her to speed things along.

Characters: Emmett Cullen & Mia Cullen (OC)

Twilight (Mia Cullen) Masterlist

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

—

“Now, sit still until those dry,” Rosalie said as she collected the nail polish and stood up from the kitchen island. “Don’t touch anything for fifteen minutes.” 

Mia was notoriously bad at the part of nail polish application that required her to stay put and allow it to set, part of why Rosalie habitually said 'no' when her sister requested a manicure, but after watching Mia struggle to paint the fingers on her right hand for several minutes on account of the brace on her left wrist, she took pity and took over, finishing her sister’s nails in a matter of seconds. 

“But it’s quick dry...polish,” Mia started, her voice growing close to silent as Rose turned back to glare at her. “Ok, fine. Fifteen minutes. I know, I know,” she grumbled after Rosalie’s retreating form. Her sister hadn't actually threatened violence if Mia ruined her manicure, but Rosalie's thoughts on the matter were clear enough.

Emmett shifted into the seat beside Mia and grasped his sister’s hands, looking more closely at the black fingernails. Emmett was half-surprised to learn the girls even had black nail polish in the house. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it on any of them before.

“It’s kind of a badass look,” Emmett said as he admired the nails. "Very angsty teenager of you." 

“I like ‘em,” Mia answered with a shrug, pulling her hand away to admire the color herself. “Found it in Alice’s stash.” 

Emmett nodded. The information tracked. While Rose wore only shades of red on her nails, Alice was known for experimenting with various shades—she was currently exploring blue hues.

Mia pulled her gaze from her nails as Carlisle came into the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island.

“You’re all ready to go?” Carlisle asked, his gaze catching her freshly painted nails, though he didn't comment on them. 

"Yup," she answered. “All set."

Mia was still a bit surprised she had pulled it off after ignoring three alarms and staying in bed far longer than she intended. She had planned to be up early enough to fit in packing, a full shower routine, and a manicure before they were due to leave, but her desire for sleep had gotten in the way of that, tightening her morning schedule. With the exception of her nail polish and her hair, which was still shower- damp against her back, she'd been successful.

“Very good,” Carlisle answered. Mia knew her parents were eager to get on the road to the airport. If it wasn’t for her, the whole family would have made the trip to Alaska on foot. It would be faster, and it was what the others were doing, but Mia couldn’t reasonably make the journey that way, so Carlisle, Esme, and Mia would be driving to Seattle before boarding a flight to Alaska. 

“The car is all packed, so we’re just waiting for you," he offered. "We should be on the road in ten minutes.”  

“Well, Rosalie said I’m not allowed to move for the next—” Mia glanced at the clock. “—twelve minutes.” 

“Well, we’ll be leaving in ten," Carlisle answered. She was always amazed at the way her father could be unremarkably human in some moments, especially where air travel was concerned. He always had them to the airport far earlier than necessary, fussing about schedule and timeline.

“Fine," Mia conceded, "but if these nails get messed up and she's mad, I’m blaming you and mom.” 

Carlisle snorted. “I’ll deal with your sister,” he answered. “You just get yourself out to the car. You’ve had your breakfast?” 

“Yeah, um, I’m good," she mumbled. "Not really hungry.” 

Carlisle raised an eyebrow. “You know the rules, Mia. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” 

She wasn’t allowed to leave home without having something to eat, especially not when they'd be in a car driving for the next few hours.

“I know, but it's early and I’m not hungry and my nails are wet and—” Mia stopped herself as her father just continued staring at her, eyebrows still raised. “Fine. fine I guess I’ll figure out some way to eat something even though I'm not—”

“I’ll help,” Emmett interrupted, a smirk on his face as he pinched Mia’s cheek. “It’ll be just like old times. Choo choo train and all.”

“Not too much like old times,” Carlisle advised, remembering how feeding his daughter as a toddler had often been a full out excursion, spanning hours and requiring a clean up crew. 

“We need to be on the road in—” Carlisle glanced at his watch “—eight minutes.” 

“Eight minutes,” Mia agreed. 

It wasn’t worth arguing that they need not be so early for the airport. Carlisle liked to be early, to make sure they wouldn’t be impeded by traffic or long security lines or whatever else it was dads worried about where airports were concerned. 

Emmett moved to the fridge, humming as he scoured for breakfast options. “What special breakfast shall we feed Miss Mia this morning?” he asked the question in a sing-song voice that had a bit of heat rushing to Mia's cheeks, the familiarity of the little jingle bringing her straight back to early childhood when her family sang to her before every meal, hoping to entice her into being cooperative with eating. 

“Emmett, come on,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t be making too much of this opportunity to tease her, but as he turned back to her, a cheeky grin on his face, she knew it would be too enticing for him to pass up. 

“There’s ketchup and olives,” he said, holding up the two options. 

“Emmett, it’s not funny. And Dad said we only have—”

“No? Okay, how about chocolate syrup and…eggs?” 

“Em, seriously we don’t have time for this,” Mia groaned, starting to stand up. “If you’re going to play, I’ll just do it my—”

“Yogurt and blueberries, it is,” he interrupted. “Take a seat, Miss Mia.” 

Mia slid back into the chair, mindful of her nails, and Emmett zoomed around the kitchen, rinsing the berries and putting everything together in a bowl. 

“Do we need a bib?” he asked, the first spoonful already poised and ready when he arrived beside her. "You used to make a mess with blueberries and yogurt. Picked all the berries out and dumped the yogurt all over—"

“I’m going to hit you if you don't stop.” 

“No, you’re not,” Emmett answered with a smile. “It’ll ruin your pretty nails.” 

Mia huffed. “A risk I’m willing to—”

Emmett pushed the spoon into Mia’s mouth, quieting his sister's threat with yogurt and berries which Mia had no choice but to chew and swallow.

“Can you not do that?”  

Mia covered her mouth this time as she spoke, protecting herself from any unexpected spoon feeding. 

“We’re on a strict timeline, kiddo,” Emmett answered. “Now, open up for the choo choo train. Chugga chugga chug—!”

“Stop or I’ll—”

“Eat all your breakfast?” Emmett suggested as he successfully delivered another bite into Mia’s mouth. “You do realize I’m trying to help you here, right?” 

Mia chewed and swallowed before continuing. “You’re being an idiot. I’m not a baby and it’s not—” 

Funny, that was what Mia was about to say, but instead another spoonful of breakfast crashed into the side of her mouth, landing half in and half out, yogurt dripping down her chin. 

“EMMETT!” Mia shouted as he leapt up, reaching across the island for a towel which he used to wipe his sister’s face. 

“I guess we did need a bib after all.” 

“You know, I may not be able to use my hands, but I can still kick you.” 

Emmett snorted. “Then it really would be like old times, wouldn’t it?” he asked, “A full on tantrum while you're in the highchair.”

“Can we just get this over with?”

“Stop talking so much and it won’t be a problem,” he said, scraping at the sides of the bowl. “Last bite, Mi Mi. Spaceship coming in for a special landing.”  

Mia huffed at the commentary, but opened her mouth, allowing Emmett to feed her the last bite. 

“You’re a menace,” she said as he wiped at her mouth once again. 

“You should talk,” Emmett answered. “An absolute terror.” 

“If I am, I learned it all from—”

Emmett lifted his sister in his arms, silencing the words from her mouth and removing the breath from her lungs as he rushed her out to the car. 

“Right on time,” Carlisle commented as Emmett dropped his sister into the backseat.

“Yeah, but at what cost?” Mia complained. “He got yogurt all over me and was acting like a—” 

“I cleaned it up,” he answered. “And it wouldn’t have happened if you just let the choo choo into the—”

“Don’t even say it,” Mia warned. 

“Into the station,” Emmett finished with a grin. 

“The choo choo?" Esme asked as she turned in the passenger seat to face Mia and Emmett, a fond smile on her lips. "You used to love the choo choo when you were a baby.”

“Yeah, well, that may be so, but I’m not exactly a baby anymore.”

“You’ll always be our baby, right, Carlisle?” she said, reaching out to squeeze her husband’s hand. 

"I'm afraid that's exactly how it works, sweetheart," Carlisle answered. "Nothing that can be done about it."

Mia took a breath. She tried not to get angry at her parents for expressing these types of sentiments, embarrassing as they could be. She knew they came from a good place, just like she knew she didn't truly mind them thinking of her that way. Most of the time, she quite enjoyed their doting nature.

It was just her siblings who annoyed her with it.

“That’s right,” Emmett added with a smirk. “You’ll be the baby even when you’re seventy-two. Better get used to it.” 

“Only if you get used to the fact that you’ll still be an idiot.” 

“An idiot who loves you even when you’re a menace.”

Mia opened her mouth to argue further, but Carlisle cut off the conversation, reminding them of the time and their need to get going.  

“See ya later, alligator,” Emmett said as he grabbed the seatbelt, pulling it around her and securing it in place.

Like the special breakfast jingle and choo choo train spoon feedings, the phrase was a blast from the past, something Mia had once insisted on when saying goodbye to her family members, but she hadn’t heard it from Emmett's lips in ages.

Still, the answer rolled off her tongue as if the response was automatic, as if she couldn't stop herself even if she tried.

“After a while, crocodile,” Mia answered with a well-natured eye roll directed at her brother, a bright smile on his face.

“Have a safe trip, kiddo,” he offered before placing a kiss on her forehead and shutting the car door, sending them on their way right on schedule. 

—

Twilight (Mia Cullen) Masterlist

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: hi sweet angel!! would u be willing to write a little something for domi? (: maybe like a blind date that a mutual friend (TRENT I LOVE HIM) sets up? (like a meet-cute) (@alit1sa who has now deactivated ☹️☹️)

Word Count: 918 words

(author's note: the people wanted domi, who am i to refuse? 🫡)

Dominik knew that many women would lose a limb to go on a date with him. That wasn't him being egotistical, just a simple observation he had made throughout his years as a footballer. However, finding a girl wasn’t his problem; he could have anyone he wanted. Dominik didn’t want just anyone. He wanted someone special.

The lack of companionship in his life weighed on his mind as Dominik pulled his training jacket over his head in the changing rooms. Trent wandered in, and his face broke out in a smile as he saw Dominik.

“Hey Dom, you okay?” He asked, noticing the downcast look on his friend's face.

Dominik nodded in response, hanging up the clothes he was previously wearing.

“Have you thought any more about what I asked you the other day?” 

“Yes, I’ll do it, what’s the worst that could happen?” Dominik replied.

A few days ago, Dominik had confided in Trent about how lonely he had been recently and the struggles he had run into when trying to arrange to meet up with potential dates. Trent had in response told him about one of his friends who was having the same problem.

“She’s gorgeous, Dom, and smart. She’s got a heart of gold too, I promise you.”

“How do I know I’m her type, though? What if she doesn’t even find me attractive?”

Trent looked at his friend in disbelief. “Are you serious? She’d be blind not to fall in love on the spot.”

Dominik snorted with laughter and told Trent he’d think it over.

After training, Trent gave Dominik the details of the date he had planned for the pair. He reassured Dominik that everything would be fine and made him promise to text him when he got home afterwards.

Once arriving home, Dominik rifled through his wardrobe, looking for the perfect outfit for the night ahead. He wanted to make a good impression on whoever ended up being his company for the night but he didn’t want to seem like he was trying too hard.

Once his clothes were laid out, he had a quick shower, freshened up his hair and got dressed. After pulling on his shoes, Dominik grabbed the flowers he had bought earlier and got into his car. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out of his driveway and drove to the address Trent had given him.

Y/N sat at a table in the dimly lit restaurant anxiously awaiting her mysterious date. When Trent had called her asking if she was up for a blind date she agreed immediately. However now, the nerves had begun to eat away at her.

Dominik gently pushed open the front door of the restaurant and looked around for the person who matched Trent’s description. When he spotted her sitting alone staring at her hands, he made his way over to the table.

“Are you Y/N?” He asked hesitantly, awaiting her response. 

“Yes, Dominik isn’t it?”

He smiled and nodded, moving to sit down in the empty chair across from her. Silence descended over the pair until Dominik remembered the flowers he still had in his hand.

“I got these for you, I hope they’re okay.” He told her, holding out the bouquet.

Her face lit up as she gently grabbed the flowers from his hands. “They’re more than okay. They’re perfect.” 

“So, you’re a footballer, right?”

“Yeah, I have been for most of my life.” Dominik replied, a smile appearing at the chance to talk about his favourite subject.

“Do you play with Trent?” She enquired, eager to know more about him.

“I do, that’s how we met, actually. Clicked pretty much instantly. It was nice to have a friend in such a new place.”

“That sounds lovely, I met Trent through my auntie. She’s good friends with his mum and we’ve known each other for ages.”

“I’m glad you have. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here.” He said, cringing at how cheesy he sounded.

She laughed and Dominik thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

The conversation continued flowing as the pair got to know one another. Once the pair had gotten through their food and drinks, Dominik insisted on walking Y/N home. 

After arriving at her house, Dominik and Y/N stood on the doorstep, neither one of them wanting to end the night.

“It was nice meeting you.” Y/N said, “Could I get your number?”

Nodding, Dominik pulled out his phone and showed her his number. Once Y/N was done, she put her phone back in her pocket and slowly wrapped her arms around Dominik.

“I’m glad Trent set this up,” Dominik stated “I had a really good night.”

Agreeing, Y/N finally said goodbye and leaned up on her tiptoes to press a kiss onto Dominik’s cheek. They exchanged their goodbyes and Y/N retreated into her house, giving Dominik a wave as she did so. Dominik began walking to his car while dialling Trent’s number.

“How did it go?” Trent asked as soon as the call connected.

“Really good mate, she’s lovely.”

“Did you get her number?”

“Yes, she said she’d like to go out again at some point.”

Trent congratulated him and then they said their goodbyes as Dominik finally got into his car. On the drive home, he couldn’t help but smile. The date went better than he ever thought it would and it had given him hope that there was someone out there made just for him.

[brainddeadd]

Joking about trying choking in the bedroom with Matthew Knies and him being the one to be choked. Only for him to get flustered and realize oh fuck I DO want you to choke me. With #65 (“who would have thought that this is something you’d be into”) from the smut prompt list

Choking

warnings: smut

The atmosphere in the bedroom was charged with laughter and playful banter, the remnants of your earlier conversation lingering in the air. You were sprawled on the bed, scrolling through your phone, when Matthew plopped down beside you, a grin lighting up his face.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, peering over your shoulder. You quickly turned your phone away, a mischievous smile creeping onto your lips.

“Just some interesting… ideas for the bedroom,” you replied, your voice teasing as you set the phone aside.

Matthew raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “Oh? Like what? You have my attention.”

You bit your lip, suppressing a laugh. “Well, I came across something that made me think of you… choking.” You let the word hang in the air, watching his reaction.

His eyes widened slightly, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. “Choking? Like… me choking you, or you choking me?”

“Honestly, I was thinking more along the lines of me choking you,” you said, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Who would have thought that sweet little Matthew Knies would be into that?”

He looked at you, flustered, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “Wait, seriously? You’re joking, right?”

You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a sultry whisper. “Why not? You might like it. I mean, it’s all about trust, right?” You winked at him, watching as he struggled to process your words.

“Um, I mean…” Matthew stammered, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “I never really thought about it like that. But… oh fuck, I think I might actually want you to choke me.”

You burst into laughter, the sound bright and infectious. “Wow, who knew my sweet, innocent boyfriend had a wild side?”

“Hey!” he protested, his flustered demeanor only making him cuter. “I’m not innocent. I just… I didn’t realize it was something I could enjoy.”

You leaned back against the pillows, still chuckling. “Well, now you know! Just think about it—I'll take charge, and you’ll love it.”

Matthew shook his head, a smile breaking through his embarrassment. “You’re really trying to turn me into some kind of submissive, huh?”

“Maybe I am! But only because I know how much you secretly love it,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “Besides, it could be fun.”

He considered your words for a moment, a grin spreading across his face. “Alright, fine. But if I end up liking it too much, it’s your fault!”

“Deal!” you said, feeling a thrill at the thought of exploring this new side of your dynamic together.

As the playful banter continued, Matthew looked at you with a mix of admiration and intrigue, realizing that this unexpected conversation had only deepened your connection.

~~

The evening was thick with a charged energy, the kind that buzzed between you and Matthew as you both lay in bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light around the room. After your earlier conversation, both of you were giddy with anticipation.

Matthew shifted beside you, running a hand through his hair, looking both nervous and excited. “So, uh, how do we… start?” he asked, glancing at you with an amused yet anxious smile.

You turned to face him, your heart racing at the thought of what was about to unfold. “Just relax. Trust me, okay?”

He nodded, his expression serious yet playful, as you took a moment to gauge his comfort. “If it’s too much, just tap my arm or something, alright?”

“Got it. I trust you,” he replied, a hint of determination in his eyes.

You shifted closer, your fingers trailing lightly along his jawline, savoring the warmth of his skin. “Let’s start slow. Just a little pressure, nothing crazy.”

With a gentle touch, you placed your hand around his neck, your fingers resting lightly against his skin. Matthew’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes widening as he processed the sensation. “Okay, that feels… different,” he admitted, a hint of nervous laughter in his voice.

“Good different or bad different?” you asked, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Definitely good. Just… don’t squeeze too hard,” he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Promise,” you said, squeezing gently, enough to create a sense of restraint without crossing any lines. You watched his face for any signs of discomfort, but instead, he seemed to lean into it, a low groan escaping his lips.

“See? Not so bad, right?” you murmured, leaning in closer, your lips brushing against his as you maintained the pressure.

“Yeah, it’s actually really nice,” he admitted, his cheeks flushed. “Just… keep going.”

Encouraged, you tightened your grip slightly, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat under your fingers. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed, a mix of exhilaration and submission washing over him. “Just breathe, Matthew. I’ve got you,” you whispered, your voice low and soothing.

A soft whimper escaped his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile at how responsive he was to you. “You’re really into this, huh?” you teased, your thumb gently stroking the side of his neck.

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of vulnerability and desire. “Who knew I’d like being choked so much?” he said, breathless. “I just didn’t expect it to feel this… good.”

“Are you okay? I mean, really?” you checked, your heart racing from the thrill of the moment.

“More than okay,” he replied, his voice steadying as he locked eyes with you. “I trust you completely. Just… don’t stop.”

Feeling empowered, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You’re doing so well, Matty.”

With a soft smile, you pressed a light kiss on his lips before applying a bit more pressure, just enough to elicit a soft gasp from him. His hands found their way to your waist, gripping you tightly, grounding himself as he surrendered to the experience.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. “This is so intense.”

You leaned back, studying his face. “You like it, don’t you?”

He nodded, a shy smile breaking through his earlier hesitation. “Yeah, I do. Who would’ve thought I’d be into this?”

You chuckled softly, feeling triumphant. “See? I told you it could be fun.”

“Definitely more than I expected,” he replied, leaning in for another kiss, his lips soft yet fervent against yours. “You’re amazing.”

You smiled against his lips, feeling a surge of affection for him. “Just remember, I’m always here to help you explore.”

As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of excitement at this new layer of intimacy between you. The boundaries had shifted, and with them, a newfound trust blossomed, enhancing the connection you both shared.

[ayelbee]

MORE THAN LOVE | K. MBAPPÉ | 4

previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: Sometimes even love is not enough for relationships. But it's fine because you are over it. But getting again in a contact with his younger brother wasn't smart.

TW: some curse words, Kylian being a dick

Notes: I just wanna thank you for you reactions on this ff<3 love you all..

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

“So you are really going?” Kylian looked at you in disbelief as you were placing clothes into your luggage. You thought that it was obvious that you would not change your opinion about visiting your family.

“Yes Kylian, as I said earlier it’s the only week when I can see all of them.” you stayed calm. The last thing you would want was to fight with him.

“You know that we could visit them together when Y/b/n will come back from the camp, as I have no games that week.” he came closer to you. You stopped packing, you turned his way as you fixed your gaze on him.

“No, we could not Kylian. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm going to New York that week.” as much as you were trying to be calm, you started to get annoyed by the fact that Kylian was ignoring your work trip.

“But if you told your boss that you can’t go, she would respect that.” he was still calm, which made you just more annoyed.

“But I want to go to Kylian! Why wouldn’t I? What's your problem with that? It is the same as you going to Galtier saying that you don't want to play against Nantes this week.”

“Y/n you know that it is not the same!” He was pissed now. Why were so blind he thought. You weren’t clearly seeing things as he did, and he was also 100% sure that he saw them the right way.

“Do you think it is not? Because it is. Go to Galtier, say it to him and you can leave tomorrow with me!” you throw your hand up in the air. You didn’t understand where this possessive Kylian came from. He was always supportive of you, and your work. So why did he change? What changed him? Where was your Kylian?

“Y/n don’t be fucking delusional. You know that things don’t work this way in football. You know it from the start.”

"Kylian, you're using a double standard on us. So please open your eyes and think about what you want from me and what you are actually giving me. Because where did angry Kylian come from? What happened to you?” you weren’t feeling angry for a moment. You were just sad about what was happening with the two of you.

“Because our work isn't the same Y/n! That’s why I am using double standards for us. You can leave your job because I’m able to give you the whole world with my job. We won’t struggle to live just with my money. But if I stopped playing football would you be able to pay for everything for us? No, you wouldn’t. And if you are trying to find out what happened to me, look at yourself first. Because I’m not the one who all of a sudden put our relationship on the back burner.” Kylian raised his voice, he let his emotions do the talking.

You were silent as you were searching for words but before you were able to answer him he was gone. You didn’t even notice until the slamming of the door confirmed to you that he had left. You sat on the floor next to your luggage slowly breaking into a cry. He had hurt you, hurt you with his words so strongly that you weren’t even sure if you will be able to go back to your guy's normal.

You hugged your knees as close to your body as possible. You were sobbing so loudly, feeling like he just broke a piece of your heart. You started to replay the whole situation in your head, trying to find out where it broke into this argument. Because when he came to you, you thought that in the end, you will explain everything to each other. You thought that Kylian will apologize, that he will understand your actions, and that you erase all the arguments from the last few weeks.

But it didn’t end that way. Everything quickly turned into something more difficult.

It was midnight, and you were trying to fall asleep in your shared bed, but your head was replaying Kylian's words again and again. You knew that with your job you will never have as big a salary as Kylian, but it was still more than you ever thought about. The lifestyle Kylian was living was too expensive, but you didn’t care, because Kylian didn’t care. You were way more cautious with your money than him, but that didn’t change the fact that you were able to secure yourself. You could buy yourself what you wanted unless it was a plane or something like that. The last thing you would want from Kylian was his money, and he knew that.

The opening of the bedroom door interrupted your thoughts. Kylian got home. You didn’t know where he went and to be completely honest, you didn’t even wanna know.

“Are you awake Mon amour?” he lay down on the bed next to you. You hummed in response. “I’m sorry about the argument earlier, but I’m not changing my opinion.” you felt his hands around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

“I don’t wanna leave angry” you turned to him. “because I love you.” a small tear escaped your eye, and he whipped it off.

“You know I love you too.” he slowly placed his lips on your forehead. You pressed your body more into him hugging him back. And that’s how you fell asleep. Kylian was trying his hardest to not fall asleep. He wanted to remember your hands around him. He knew how much he would need you this week. But you won’t be there. Tears started to escape his eyes as the whole situation from earlier and your hurt eyes were the only thing he could think about.

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

The world cup broke Kylian, like he wasn’t broken enough. He was shit since ever then, and he knew it. He also tried to fix himself, but he didn’t know how. And Hakimi wasn’t really helping.

“I’m gonna die alone.” Kylian sat on the kitchen island of Hakimi’s kitchen.

“You are acting like a drama queen Kylian,” Hiba spoke as she was cooking something, Achraf on the other hand laughed. Kylian ended up spending his afternoon there after his brother rejected his plan of spending their time together.

“I’m not, it is just a pure fact. Look at him, he just turned 16 and now he doesn’t have time for his brother. Because of a girl? He always wanted to spend time with me, so that's what actually happened to him.” Kylian wasn’t really proud of himself for crushing at Hakimi's place on their free day. The pair definitely wanted to spend that day as a family with their kids, but Kylian was after all also their family, right? Plus what was he supposed to do? He was desperate.

He had slept over at his parent's house yesterday, so he definitely couldn’t crush at their place. They would start thinking that there is something wrong with him. Which probably was, but he didn’t want them to know. Then he wanted to spend the day with Ethan, but Ethan has been out with this mystery girl, so he was also not an option. Kylian could stay at home, playing Fifa all day long but he didn’t want to. For the past six months, he had spent a lot of time there alone, every day feeling more miserable than the day before so he ultimately rejected that option. So in the end this couple was his salvation.

“You should calm down brother” Achraf sipped his coffee. “You were the same at his age.” Kylian knew that they were right, but he still needed them.

“But I am annoyed because he didn’t tell me about this girl ever before. I had breakfast with him this morning and he didn’t say a word.” Kylian stole a cookie from a plate next to him.

“Because he was nervous.” Achraf rolled his eyes. “Anyway you didn’t tell me that you went for breakfast to your parent's house today.” he raised his eyebrows

“Well, I was sleeping over.” Kylian didn’t really want them to know about this.

“Again?” Hiba once again moved her attention to the men. Kylian just shrugged his shoulders, looking down at his hands as if he was guilty. “Is that because of Y/n again?” Hiba really cared about Kylian as he was her’s husbands best friend. But she also really liked you.

“Yeah,” he admitted, still looking at his hands. “I wasn’t ready for seeing her again, I just couldn’t go home.” now he looked at Hakimi, who got closer to him as he placed his hand on Kylian’s should.

“Maybe you should talk to her Kyky, it is six months and you are still not over her yet.”

“Who would I help? Definitely not to myself. She’s probably over it for a long time, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was actually leaving from a date yesterday” Kylian knew that you were over it, you were the one who broke up with him.

“Kylian, you still stalk her instagram so you know that she wasn’t leaving from a date yesterday.” that was enough for Kylian. He came for reassurance, now he was getting nothing but misery. The misery that he may have deserved, but didn't want to admit it.

“I’m gonna go home, thank you for those kind words people. See you Hakimi tomorrow.”

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

The moment Kylian entered his apartment he felt sick. Ever since you left it was empty. Empty with stuff and empty with emotions. The warmth of home left even when heathers were on.

Kylian crashed on the couch, too tired to go to the bedroom. Today he did nothing physically demanding but he was still tired. More mentally than physically but still tired. The apartment didn't look like that day when you left. Kylian wouldn’t be able to live in that. He changed quite a lot of things. He couldn't sleep in the same bed, he couldn’t have the same couch. So he bought these things new, but it didn’t help him sleep better. Kylian even replaced the painting on the walls with some random stuff to make him feel better. But he won’t feel better if he won’t speak to you.

So now he was looking down at his phone trying to decide if he was going to do the right thing or if he’s gonna make things just worse. But in the end, he pressed the green button hoping that he was making the right decision.

His whole body tingled at the thought of hearing your voice again. He patiently waited.

How will you react to his call?

Will he hear your sleepy voice?

Maybe not everything is lost. Maybe that’s what you are waiting for, his actions.

No, he didn’t feel miserable. He felt hopeful.

But he waited in vain, after a few seconds of silence came a wave of hard realization.

You have blocked him.

It suddenly dawned on him how naive he had been for a moment. All the shreds of hope he had gathered during that quick moment were lost again. You were lost, and he knew he would never find you on his own. Now he felt like the night you broke up again. His little house of hope was destroyed in a matter of seconds. The first tear escaped his eye, and then hundreds of others escaped too.

He was fucked and he knew it.

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

Tag list: @nightlockcornucopia, @she-lives-in-her-dreams, @sorceresski @m4k444 @mrs-dasilvasantoss

[blueiight]

IWTV E4 “A Ruthless Pursuit of Blood with All a Child’s Demanding.” Claudia discussing how it feels to escape poverty to being adopted into wealth, struggling in her existence without peers even during her second childhood and how she does not even care to have the veneer of mortal manners around Louis’s family, what Charlie as her last peer meant to her, and her mortal upbringing prior to Lestat + Louis.

And I realized, what I thought was Heaven was just some nice room. And what I thought were angels were really hell demons.

Uncle Les and Daddy Louis were rich. They had nice clothes and a nice auto carriage and a funny way of being nice to each other.

I gotta go to bed when the rest of the world wakes up, so there's less kids to play with...

Daddy Lou said I had been away from people too long. I didn't know how to behave right anymore. But Uncle Les said, I behaved just fine.

Diary, his name is Charlie. He's got veins like rivers. They flow right down his arms. …Charlie's death ushered in one of the darkest eras in our lives. The oh-so-delicate balance of our oh-so-delicate household was shattered. For Claudia, all humans died with Charlie.

And, diary, you'd think a girl whose mama died in childbirth... whose daddy gave her away to a mean old auntie who beat her 'cause no one said she couldn't, who died in a fire but came back by the blood magic of two demons, well, you'd think that girl wouldn't know what funny was. But you'd be wrong, diary. And if I told you, dumb diary, that that same girl was being raised to kill like her demon parents did, to take two souls a day so she could stay in the same flat-chested, hairless-crotched 14-year-old baby doll body as her mind and spirit turn 19, 20, 25, 63, 358, you dumb, dumb diary, I bet you'd say to anyone who'd listen, "Fun? Fun? How does she even get up in the morning?" Well, let me tell you something, you stuck-up, flower-covered, three-dollar fancy fսcking paper diary, I'm doin' just fine. (diary pages read aloud as Claudia self harms at the end of e4)

IWTV E5 “A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart”. Claudia discussing her life/reckoning with the fate of her premature existence.

"Dear Diary, am I gonna be a virgin every single time I do it? Won't my skin down there grow back like my hair does when I cut it?"

Who am I supposed to love? You two have each other. Who's my Lestat? Who's my Louis? I’m not human. What human would want me? Perverts? Like the uncle at the roomin' house who used to watch me pee? Or little boys? And 40 years from now... still little boys? How are you gonna fix it, huh?… (turns to Louis) [Lestat] treats us like shit and you just take it! And you, [turns to Lestat] cruel as the devil ever made, to deny me one love when you’ve got two.

[Talking to Louis in her room after the confrontation at the dinner table] I remember the night I was made, the fire chokin' me, you carryin' me out through the flame and the smokes. But then why'd you take me home? Why not a hospital? …. But I was breathin'! Maybe I'd have a handsome husband by now. Or maybe he'd be plain but with a good disposition. That'd be fine, too. I'd be sweepin' floors, makin' dinners, nursin' babies. Maybe I'd go to church. You think on that some.

How does Claudia react after her rape? She exhibits textbook behaviors.

Co-dependency.

I spend time following Louis and Lestat now that I am my own woman... with no obvious sense of why I follow them, other than meaning slowly disintegrates without them...My companions in immortality.

but wait.. u might ask: doesn’t this contradict what she said years earlier in this same episode about wanting ‘her own Lestat and Louis’? is this Louis or Armand somehow forging Claudia’s diary? or is this a rape victim shortly after the actual experience struggling with her emotional+ mental state and in that frame of mind going back to the immortal family she finds to be a more familiar sort of ‘evil’ than the unknown vampire that raped her, especially after witnessing Louis weep over the grave Grace made of him? to Claudia here, being Louis’s ‘sister’ is balm put onto a bleeding wound.

Hypervigilance over her wider situation ad an Enmeshment with Louis, as they both have endured incredibly traumatizing events (with Claudia being raped + shortly after, witnessing Louis being beaten) and are without Lestat for six years following the end of E5 picking up the pieces. it is Claudia who tends to Louis in his most vulnerable here, and Louis struggles with that, wanting to be ‘her knight in vengeful black’ in return.

She's grown very protective of me. That's what this is. It's why it's hard. She came back altered when she left us. There's a darkness in her that wasn't there before. Give her a little time. [Louis is trying to appease Lestat here in their ‘compromise’, but there is a key bit of truth in his observations here.]

Claudia learned very early on, as early as E4 when Louis asked her mentally about Charlie, how to block her mind off from Louis. and with her traumatic experiences, its all but said that hypervigilance protects her mind further (as shown in the S2 trailer when Armand comments on it). When Lestat steals her from off the train, he also threatens her:

Because if you try this again, Claudia, I won't snap your leg, defile your pocket, and zoom off on a motorbike. I'll turn your bones to dust.

Is it any wonder Claudia draws the comparison to Bruce when she talks to Louis, especially when Louis in the season finale plays the role of a honey trap to the very same lover who almost ‘killed Louis’, as Claudia [and Daniel alike] frame the ending of E5 as abuse + attempted murder, as Claudia seethes , is ‘done enduring?’ and just before she creates her own murder plan:

Or did you kill him, like you did Antoinette, and how you tried to do with Louis?

I have to wonder why, over a year from airing, blogs and reviews claiming to be dedicated to the series rehash the most juvenile questions that the episodes themselves directly answer? How can S2 spec or complex discussion occur, if callout PSAs shutting down any sort of canon-compliant discussion is the way to go? If people constantly exhibit their refusal to meet the show where its at and engage the material for what it is, where can we go from here? AMC IWTV is very didactic. ‘The absence of metaphor is striking’. Yet for all the waxing about loving ‘fucked-up gothic romance’, there is a willful ignorance in understanding where & what makes the situation fucked up to begin with. Or even an interest in understanding the basics of the setting!

[guardian-of-time-if]

Final Days with MC Snippet: Gaderous

So it's been a hot minute since I posted the rest of these snippets, but this one was giving me trouble. Gat is one of the harder characters for me to write, and I struggled with this scenario. His will be the last one in the set (sorry Sentinel) because I cannot think of a scene with Sentinel that would fit the prompt as he also has a long lifespan.

An unusually warm autumn breeze swept through the air, brushing against Gat’s cheek. He sucks in the warm air from his spot against the towering oak tree. The weather was perfect for a nice quiet picnic, something so familiar it took little effort to get right at this point. 

He twists a flower between his fingers. If she was any later, he would keep them. He smiles to himself at the thought before setting it back in the place he arranged for it. His smile drops when he notices the flower seems out of place, and leans forward to adjust it again. He shouldn’t have picked it up even if he was bored. Now, he’s never going to get it back in it’s proper place.

“It’s just a flower Gaderous,” a voice calls out, grabbing his attention. “You’re not performing emergency surgery in the middle of a battlefield.”

Gat smiles, rising to greet his lover. “Unlike the healers you’re used to, beautiful, I give every patient my undivided attention, however insignificant they might seem to the rest of the world.”

“Is that why you pay so much attention to me?”

“You are not one of my patients,” he says, as they sit down. “You have my undivided attention because you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen walk the face of Tarken.”

She laughs. “Have you been reading poetry again, or are you trying to get me to agree to something you know I don’t want to do?”

“Oh, I definitely want something, but I’d bet money, its something you want to.”

She gives him the side eye. “This I’ve got to hear.”

Instead of answering, he reaches over and pulls her into his lap. 

“Gaderous!” She yelps, and he responds by kissing her ear.

“I was hoping for a kiss, but we can eat first since I made the effort.”

“Considering you made the effort because it’s my birthday, I think I get to decide what we do after we eat.”

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, earning himself a brief smack on the chest with no force behind it. 

“You know it is. After this many years you better know.”

“Or maybe I’m just getting old enough to not remember anything.”

She rolls her eyes, and reaches for some of the fruit, but doesn’t move out of his lap. As they eat, Gat tries to keep a perfect balance in the atmosphere between lighthearted banter, reminiscing, and flirting.

“What’s wrong?” She asks after Gat finishes a joke.

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re trying too hard. When you’re trying not to think about things, you occupy your mind with other things like the exact position of flowers.”

“What if I just really want to impress you?”

She rolls her eyes. “We’ve been together for decades at this point. You don’t need to impress me with a date.”

“We could be together for ten thousand years, and I would still spend every day of my life trying to impress you.”

“Gaderous,” she pleads, drawing out his name.

He sighs. “Fine. How long are we going to pretend this is normal?”

“What are we pretending is normal?”

“We celebrate your birthday every year as if it actually matters. You’re not actually getting older.”

“You want to stop celebrating my birthday?” She asks, drawing her eyebrows together.

“No. I-” He gently moves her off his lap. “You’re aging, and I’m not. I didn’t realize how weird it was going to be until we got here.”

“I-”

“Someone actually asked me the other day if you were my daughter.”

Her eyes double in size, and she coughs. “Daughter?!’

He nods. “We have now gotten to the point where I look old enough to be your dad. That’s weird, or at least it feels weird. Even outside of the appearance thing, I’m starting to notice that my mind is slipping. I made a joke about forgetting your birthday earlier, but I have been forgetting things more lately, and I’m not getting around as easily as I used to.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” She asks, cupping his cheek.

“I didn’t want you to worry, but it has made me wonder, if you wouldn’t be happier without me.”

“Don’t say that,” she chides. ��We’re in this together.”

“Before you helped me escape the cult, a lot of our members asked me to check on their elderly family members. Those visits were always rough. People becoming fragments of who they once were. I don’t want you to remember me that way.”

“Gat,” she breathes out his name.

“It would be one thing, if it was reciprocal, and we were both aging together, but it’s just me. I can’t do that to you.”

“Shouldn’t I get to decide that?” She asks, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“Obviously what you want matters, but even if you are willing to, I don’t want you to stay and watch me deteriorate.”

“Gaderous, look at me,” she orders. “Do not push me away from you because you’re afraid of getting old.”

“I’m not afraid of getting old. I’m afraid of losing myself. That aging will change who I am enough that I won’t be me anymore.” He leans his head into the crook of her neck. “I didn’t want to do this to you today.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she assures. “I’d rather know what’s troubling you.”

“I’d rather go back to trying my hardest not to think about it, if it's all the same to you.”

[spilledmilkfkdies]

Hi! First off, thank you very much for answering my earlier asks; I really appreciate that you put in the time and thought to answer my questions. Secondly, I wanted to ask, how do you think the wizards would take it if they had been sentenced to Lightrock rather than Omega? (I think I have also asked this question of another blog, but I’m kinda hooked on the idea.) Thank you very much!

Hiii again!! You're so welcome too! I love answering asks and putting some energy into them, even if that means they take me a sec sometimes djskshsj I get to it eventually stinkyexhaust if you're out there-

And to answer the second part; Honestly I kinda vibe with the idea, I think about it sometimes, briefly. But that's because I'm biased and I simply don't want them to be frozen for eternity. Or for however long the comics kept them there before making them work for some guy and eventually imprisoning them in Solaria boo boo tomato. Absolutely YOINKED them from their planet, which ig Lightrock would also do. But like. That's different.

How would they take it though? Hmmmm yeah probably beats Omega, if only because they're together and able to talk to each other. Hopefully. Unless they're separated. I think Ogron would struggle the most, he's still experiencing some very strong emotions of the angry sort- but I feel like he'd eventually be fine as long as he's with Gantlos and Anagan who are TIRED. And in mourning. Ogron will get there too. Is Lightrock the absolute perfect solution for them that will fix all their problems though? Will they straight up vibe there without any issues? No!! But I really don't think they're as kill kill destroy as modern Winx writing is trying to sneak in there, they can be civil! At least for as long as it would take to get the "yeah lol they're fine now" stamp of approval so they can be on their way, which I think is the end goal? It's a rehabilitation thing right, those aren't permanent usually, I don't think.

Y'know who really could've used Lightrock. When we give it a minute of thought.

HE. HIM. THAT THING.

You're telling me this SICK man, who had been feverishly yapping away on your couch just minutes prior, DARES to speak the words "Who says I want to recover?", proceeds to reveals big evil plan (it actually being true aside for a moment) and you decide to KILL him where he stands as he BEGS for his life?? Bit overkill tbh. Yeah imprison the other ones but just explode the dying one, kill him faster! The medical bills just weren't worth it huh

Also?? Imagine there was no evil plan, and he really was just delusional and saying shit again. Could we perhaps say? Medical malpractice? Hm?

Really if any of the 4 were to be put in Lightrock, realistically it should be him?? This was him canonically going insane fam, please get him some therapy or something he'll be fine. Probably. BONUS POINTS if they'd let him stay in the bat form, I'd really like that and I'm not getting into the logistics of it. Just make sure his wings have room to move :(( I pinky promise he won't try to fly away pls :(( I don't think he even could pls pls :(( Y'all have security measures in place :((

[mephinomaly]

[TL] The Occasional Family TLC

Summary: Ritsu wants some attention, and Kaoru suggests he pays his brother a visit. Reluctantly, he does under the guise of passing along a message from Kaoru.

Character(s): Ritsu, Kaoru, Rei

Season: Winter

Location: Café Cinnamon

Ritsu: Yaawnnn, hng… so tired.

(The only time all of Knights were available was early in the morning so I had to get up early…)

(Everyone but me had somewhere to be afterwards, leaving me on my own. They’re all heartless.)

(I have plans in the afternoon so if I go back to sleep, I probably won’t wake back up again…)

But I’m soooo tired. Haa~...Maa-kun, help mee~

-that's what I texted him but he didn’t reply…? Oh yeah, didn’t he say he was busy with a photoshoot all day?

Even though I need to be cared for right now? Maa-kun’s a cheater~

…Maybe I’ll give up and go back to sleep.

Kaoru: I was wondering who was grumbling. What are you doing here, Ritsu-kun?

Ritsu: Ah, Kaoru-san. Finally, someone’s come to look after me~♪

Kaoru: Come to look after you…? Sorry but I’m not your guy.

I have somewhere to be after this so once I’ve finished my coffee, I need to head off.

Ritsu: Ehh~, don’t say things like that and just pay more attention to meee Kaoru-san~

Spoil me more. Spoil me like you’ve never spoiled someone before~...

Kaoru: You’re more needy than usual and you’re really begging, huh. What’s up?

Ritsu: I actually got up early yet no one congratulated me for it?

Now I’m struggling not to fall back asleep. I’ve been betrayed. I’m still waiting for my praise.

Kaoru: What an adorable reason~.

Then I’ll give you what you need. Good boy, well done on waking up early~♪

Ritsu: Nn~, that’s the stuff ♪ That’s the sort of praise I want. It would be so good if Kaoru-san was my brother…

Kaoru: I’m pretty sure Rei-kun would praise you too for working so hard.

Ritsu: Um, who is “Rei”? I’ve never heard of that person before. My onii-chan’s name is Kaoru.

Kaoru: Don’t joke around like that, okay? If Rei-kun heard, he'd burst into tears.

Ritsu: Yeah I know. But If I texted anija about it, it would create an even bigger problem.

He’d flood my inbox like he’s commenting on a video.

Kaoru: Probably. But considering it’s Rei-kun, he’d probably call you.

Ritsu: Yeah and I’d block him if he did. He’s not my brother but I’m still scared.

Kaoru: Haha…Well, Rei-kun’s used to being ignored. But I thought your relationship was on the mend after what happened during Operetta.

Ritsu: It’ll be embarrassing if I let him get too comfortable.

Anyway, Kaoru-san’s used to me acting like this anyway…

Kaoru: Yeah I guess but you should show Rei-kun some affection every once in a while.

He’s trying his best, so wouldn’t it be good to reward him for that?

Ritsu: ...

Kaoru: I’ve got it. Do you think you could pass on a message for me?

Ritsu: Ehh~. Isn’t that what HoldHands is for?

Kaoru: That doesn’t matter. And I think Rei-kun would much rather hear it from his cute younger brother ♪

Ritsu: I’m not a bootlicker. How troublesome~...

Kaoru: Please. If you have enough time to take a nap here, you can surely deliver a message for me?

Ritsu: ...Sigh, fine. I’ll sleep wherever I am, just so you know…

Kaoru: Thank you Ritsu-kun ♪

Well, I’ve got to go in a few moments.

I didn’t see Rei-kun when I went to the office earlier, so he’s probably sleeping at the dorms. It’s still early after all.

Ritsu: Okay. What am I telling him?

Location: Rei, Eichi, and Aira's dorm room

Rei: Well I never. To think the first thing I’d see when I awake would be sweet Ritsu ♪ If the day ended right now, I’d be happy.

Come hither, my lovely cute angel~! Come rest upon my lap~♪

Ritsu: No, I'm okay. More importantly, are your roommates not in?

Rei: Mhm. Tenshouin-kun and Shiratori-kun both did not return to the dorms last night. Now you can spoil me to your heart’s content~.

Ritsu: Ah, lucky me.

Rei: Say something more! If you act so uninterested you’ll hurt my feelings~

Ritsu: You’re annoying as usual. Just so you know, I’m not planning on staying long.

I’m just here to deliver a message from Kaoru-san.

Rei: Kaoru-kun? Has there been a change of plan?

Ritsu: You have a meeting about some program you’ll be in tonight, right? The meeting place has changed. Kaoru-san will tell you where later.

Rei: Ah, I see. Thank you for telling me. Then Ritsu, come here.

I must praise you for being a good, good boy for me ♪

Ritsu: How many times do I have to tell you to stop with the “good boy”? Are you so old your ears have started to rot?

Jesus, I didn’t even do much. Besides, Kaoru-san’s already given me all the TLC I need.

Rei: Fumu. I’m a little confused as to why Kaoru-kun sent you to tell me.

Surely there’s something more to it? It’s unlike you to come all this way just for that.

Ritsu: ...

Rei: You’re always welcome to come talk to me, cute Ritsu. Never hesitate to come and find your oniichan ♪

Ritsu: …Uhuh. You’re reading too much into things. I just came to deliver a message for him.

Rei: Well that doesn’t seem to be true. To go out of your way for one singular message is not very Ritsu of you.

Ritsu: You’re beyond saving, you senile old man. Can’t you just accept that that’s all there is to it?

Rei: Umu. If you insist, I suppose I’m misunderstanding.

Ritsu: …Well, even if there was another reason… which there isn’t, by the way.

That reason would be that it’s early in the morning and I was sent to deliver a message that totally could have been sent via Holdhands.

Rei: Huh…? Sorry…? W-what do you mean?

Ritsu: My loser brother’s complimentary service has run out~.

Yaawn, mm… this sucks. I can’t stop yawning so I’m going back to my room for a nap. Bye~.

Rei: ...Service?

So… could it be true that…Ritsu came to see me for the sake of…seeing me…!?

W-wait, my sweet Ritsu. If you want to take a nap you can here! We can share a bed!

I’m begging you! Let me love you with all my body, Ritsuu!

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Healing

Summary: After what happened, Scotty need to learn how to feal with the scars it left her. It's a dark place, she struggles, but she knows she came make it. Right?

Warning: Mention of trauma, anxiety attack, triggering memories, depression, dealing with said trauma, mention and talk about misscariage

Words: 3.7k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: Disclaimer, I'm not a therapist, some stuff going there is based on what member of family handled their own struggle/depression (althought none were based with military trauma) , there's probably some innacuracy in some places I'm sorry. Remember mental health is important, take care of yourself and your loved ones around you!

I definitely suggest that you read this fic before diving into this one. Healing is a companion fic to it, as it technically a follow up on what happen after the event describe in Ghillie, guns and death.

“That was a good session today, I’m proud of your progress.” The woman said, closing her notebook. 

“Does this mean I’m allowed to go back on the field?”

“Camille, we talked about this last time. You are not ready yet there is-”

“Still too much to work on, yeah yeah I know. Fine. Next week, same time, same place, see you doc.” Scotty rolled her eyes, stood up from the couch and headed outside the cabinet. 

The sun blinded her when she stepped out of the building. The street was eerily calm for the middle of the day, then again it was a weekday. People were at work, kids at school, no time to roam around town. With a sigh, Scotty disconnected herself from the world as soon as she allowed the music to play through her headphones as she began her walk home. A month has passed since she had been sent back home since her last deployment. Actually, she was forced to come back earlier after what happened. It annoyed her that her superiors didn’t want her to be on the field. Forcing her into these endless therapy sessions. Why couldn’t they understand that staying here, doing nothing, stuck in almost a desk job was the thing that was making her worse. She needed action, she needed that real world.

No you don’t. Your therapist told you this is reckless behavior. It’s guilt.

A small voice of reason that desperately tried to remind her that the loudest thoughts she experienced here and there were in fact dangerous to her. A constant battle between rationality and so many scenarios who played like a broken record in her mind. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the children playing in the school’s playground. They looked all so happy, screaming, laughing, running back and forth. Scotty stopped for a moment, a pained smile on her lips. They reminded her of these kids she met in the village back then. 

Her first clenched hard all the sudden. Images of the bloody small corpses came back.

There’s nothing you could have done for them. It’s not your fault, you weren’t there when the first attack happened. Their death is not your fault.

“But their death was mine…” Scotty whispered to herself. Her throat tightened, her heart began to race, breath was hard. Oh. Here it comes. She had to do something about it right now. The young woman started to walk away, at a fast pace. Faster and faster till it turns into a small jog.

Yes, sure, run away from your problems. Like you ran away from your friends!

You didn’t run away, you were following orders. You didn’t know how it would end.

This has not been a good session, the therapist lied! Why was she feeling like this? Normally her mind was at much ease afterwards, why were the voices battling? They were supposed to be silent! Scotty ran around the corner, barely avoiding a car that was taking its priority on the road. When the driver honked at her, she ignored it and kept running as fast as she could. Till she was out of breath and even then. She came to a stop near a tree. A quick glance over her shoulders and around, coast was clear. Scotty held down a scream and punched the trunk. Her knuckles scraped on the wood, bleeding slightly, and her hand was painful. But at least, her mind shut up. Was pain a solution?

Better tell her therapist about this next session…

*****

The line was barely moving. The two counters were occupied by the two old ladies who had a lot of questions about their medications. Scotty gently balanced herself up and down on her heels. Breath in and breathe out. Paper in her pocket, she had to patiently wait her turn. Sleep had been getting worse and worse. Nightmares over nightmares. The day playing over and over, every time with the same outcome despite her imaginary attempts at changing everything. Wasn’t all these sessions supposed to help her with this? Why was it only getting worse? Why couldn’t she get… be better! Why…

“Good day miss, how can I help you?” The pharmacist called her back to Earth.

“Oh. Hmm I’m supposed to get these.” She handed the prescription. The man looked at it a little surprised after she handed it with her first. The neat paper was now all crinkled. “I- I’m sorry.”

“No worry. Alright, give me a minute.”

Leaned on the counter, Scotty let her head fall in her hands. It was getting exhausting. Her body and mind aren't in sync anymore. It was like she had no control over her actions sometimes. 

Well at least you still have a body. You are still breathing unlike others.

In the last two weeks, this voice had been taunting far more than her reason. The latter had been locked behind bars by her struggles. The hardest part of all is that Scotty was aware that she was slowly slipping down that hill and… she didn’t want to go back up.

“Here miss. Here are some tips about these medications. First, do not take them at the same time, they both might make you feel drowsy. Obviously these should be taken before bed time to sleep, so I would suggest taking these during the day. Even if you feel better, do not stop taking any without your doctor recommendations. Do you have any other questions?” 

“No, thank you.”

She left the store with only one thing in mind; put the voices to sleep. Scotty truly hoped that these pills will help. 

*****

“It should have been me.” Her voice cracked as the word came out.

“Why?” The woman asked. 

“I…” She thought for a moment. “Not me, but I should have helped. I should have fought back, not stay down like an idiot!”

“Camille, what did we say about insulting yourself? You were scared, shocked, this is a normal reaction. A human one.”

What does this woman know of your work life? She just stays in a cozy, safe office. Fuck her. 

“Sorry.”

“What have you been doing recently?”

“I have been going out.”

“To see friends?”

No strangers who take my mind off of all my worries… by sleeping around. “Yes.”

“Good, that’s a great improvement.”

Scotty didn’t like to lie, but neither did she want to be judged in her activities. Her mother would do that enough if she knew. The young woman returned home that day not feeling lighter or heavier. It was somewhere in between. Sure it has been three weeks now and finally she came around the reality that the guilt survivor had her on a chokehold. Talking about it helped a little, yet it didn’t stop any of the nightmares. It didn’t help the ghosts that haunted her. They still came at night to blame her. Villeneuve… He was the worst of all. His face… so disfigured by the shot screaming at her, accusing her of all sins for not saving him. The pills weren’t as effective, but she was scared. Scared that using more would create other problems she didn’t need, so she started to look for other options. What would ease her tormented mind. Exercise was a solution, but she couldn’t really go for runs at midnight. She had to find release in another way. In the best way she could ever remember enjoying releasing all the stress and tension. Where was it? Her eyes looked on at the phone, certain she saved his number somewhere after they met at the café. If not in her contact she definitely sent him a message but which… Ah! Maybe he would be up for something.

The next morning, Scotty was the first to wake up. One of the rare nights of dreamless nights. She didn’t feel rested, but it was better than nothing. She rolled on her side. The young man was alway sleeping, softly snoring even. Carefully, she sat on the edge of the bed. The sun was barely lighting the room and she struggled a little to find her clothes around the room. Silently, she dressed up, left a note on the table about last night and left the apartment without a word.

Her mind felt lighter today.

******

Henri pushed the door. A small creak followed as the light timidly entered the dark room. The sun was still desperately trying to pierce through the curtains, being the middle of the day it was hard to have any total darkness. The atmosphere felt heavy. He hadn't stepped inside yet and he felt it wash over him. It was a familiar sensation.

"Camille?" He softly asked. He was afraid to startle her. His vision adapted to the room, allowing him to see the shape on the bed. Curled, back facing the entrance, blanket wrapped on her.

Not a muscle moved. Camille remained in the same position. "What?" Her tone was weak, but also dry. He knew she didn't mean it to be so rude. There were some days where it was darker than others, days where they really worried. But then there were the better days which gave her parents hope.The bed shifted under his weight as he sat on the edge. At first his hand reached for her shoulder, but revised himself and simply rested on his knees.

"Your mom and I were thinking of going for a walk in the park, would you like to come with us?"

"No."

His eyebrows furrowed. He hated seeing her like this. It has been a few days since she left home, except for work or her therapy session. As soon as Camille came back, she went directly to her room. She never showed up for dinner anymore. Henri heard her sometimes in the middle of the night going to the kitchen, she wasn't starving herself at least. "I think it would be good for you to go out a little. To get some fresh air, instead of being confined to your room."

"I'm fine, I just need some rest."

"Camille please."

She finally pushed herself up, the blanket flew away, eyes piercing at her dad. "I don't need you or mom's pity. Don't need you to hold my hand, because none of you know what I'm going through! What it feels like!"

These words hit him like a knife to the heart. "You think I don't know how it feels?"

"You don't." Two words punctuated with so much anger, it hurt him even more. “You were air force, you had it easy!” His soft fatherly smile vanished quickly. His eye, the only still working, looked down, a glass veil covering it in pain. Without more, Henri stood up. Pain was replaced by anger which he knew he shouldn't act on. That was not what she needed. So the anger turned into sadness.

"Right... I don't know." He whispered. Henri stood up and left the room in silence. However, he stepped one foot outside the door frame and stopped. He really didn't want to be mean to her but... "Next time I visit Didier, remind me to tell I don't know how it is to lose a friend..."

This comment washed over like an icy cold wave. Her mouth opened, no word came out. A slap to the face reminded her that day. She suddenly felt ashamed. 

You should apologize!

Yeah, don’t be such an ungrateful selfish kid.

For once the voices seemed to finally agree instead of tearing her apart. Scotty pushed herself out of the bed. She climbed down the stairs, trying to reach for her dad but the door closed before any of the parents noticed her. A wave of disappointment washed over, she truly messed up this time. She sat in the stairs, memories of her childhood gently coming back. All these times her father would make her laugh, make her smile. The surprise pick-up after school when he came back from his deployment unannounced. A spark lightened up. In retrospect, Henri might have hidden more than he let on just to make sure she would smile… Her face fell into her hands. “I’m sorry.” She let out.

*****

The wind gently blew across the field. The weather seemed to have read her mood today; gray, cloudy and cold as October slowly made its way. Then again, this was the kind of weather to be expected for the coming months really. Scotty placed a rebel hair strand behind her ear. Hands back in their pockets, she bounced to get rid of the chilling sensation.

“Hey. It’s been a while since I came here.”

This is so stupid… Why are you doing this? He can’t even hear you…

“I thought it would be nice to talk a little. I guess the last story I ever told you was about that day at school.” She scoffed. “Yeah… I haven’t been the best niece. Alright I know you would tell me this is bullshit…”

Leaves tumbled on the grave. This was the only sound in this resting place. “So, I’m pretty sure dad told you all about how Gabby and I grew up to uh? You know… I was quite mean to him yesterday. I haven’t been able to apologize. I wanted to but I could find the courage or words to. I don’t know… Everything is… It’s just so hard these days. I don’t know who I am anymore, everything hurts all the time and… I’m starting to hurt the people around me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, her voice croaked under the emotions. Her legs wanted to give up, but she refused, trying her best to remain standing. Like a good soldier. An arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her against someone. The familiar smell eased her mind.

“Tulipe you know we might not have followed the same path, same branch.” His voice was calm and soft. “We haven’t fought on the same battlefield, we didn’t go through the same stories, but both have scars. We both share losses, decisions we wish we could have taken differently.”

Camille turned around, closing the embrace on Henri. Her face buried on his chest and… for the first time since she came back, three months after the massacre, two months after she came home and tried to keep going, she let go of everything in front of her dad. Her grip tightened hard on his coat, her knuckles hurted. The sobbed choked in her throat; she didn’t want to make too much of a scene in the cemetery. Henri hugged her back, his hand gently patted her head, brushed her hair. No matter how old Camille was, she was still his little girl.

“I should have saved them! I should have ignored that stupid order and protected my teammates. They would be alive now.”

“Or you could have died.” He rested his chin on her head. “What happened there happened and there’s nothing we can do about it. No matter how many times we replay it, no matter how your head tries to tell you that this or that would have worked. Believe me, Camille, I did it too. The long night, wide awake, thinking of how I could have saved him. Till I accepted that it is what it is. I was alive, he wasn’t. Living in the past would do me no good and he would definitely have kicked my ass…”

“He probably did.” They chuckled.

“Maybe. The truth is you and your sister are the one who kicked it really. I realized that I still had to go on for you two, you still needed me.”

They remained in each other's arms as they paid their respect to the deceased man. The fog that had been on her mind for so long cleared. Only a little but this conversation had more impact than any sessions. Well, by speaking openly of what was troubling her to someone else, which had been recommended by her therapist, proved to be the right thing. 

“I wish Uncle Didier was still around sometimes.”

“Me too, tulip. A true brother, even if we weren’t related.”

“Papa, when does it stop? You know all the things in the head.”

“It’s different for everyone. I can’t say. But no matter how long, I’ll always be there for you.”

*****

Christmas and New Year were usually the time families gathered together, spent time together, and caught up on what they have been missing. Unless you are part of the Moreau family. For a few years now, it was hard to get everyone under the same roof. Henri had missed a few holidays when the girls were younger. When they finally came of age, one joined the army making it again hard and eventually Gabrielle moved to France earlier the previous year. Yet, there was always a moment they could find time for each other, even if it wouldn’t be during the holidays. Gabrielle and her husband were visiting for the extended weekend. 

Camille has recently been allowed to return to the field, but with some restrictions. Point is, she was still in town for now, no one knew for how long. So better make the most of it! The nightmares had calmed down in the last weeks, what would trigger reactions in her everyday life were more under control. She was still far to be out of the dark, but the light was shining in the distance. Hope was there at the end of all. 

The two sisters were alone in the living room after the others had given up on staying awake any longer. They were chatting about everything and nothing, enjoying that alone time they didn’t have in so long. The last time they had time with only the two of them it was three years ago. They really tried to make the most of it even if it meant less sleep. 

“Oh what I would have given to see the look on his face!” Camille laughed, tears in her eyes. 

“Oh, worth one million! He will never live this down.” Gabrielle laughed as well, but it seemed like she held it down. 

Actually, Camille had noticed during the evening her older sister had been quite quiet. More than usual. “Is there something wrong?”

“What?”

“Looks like you have something in your mind. Want to talk about it?”

Grabielle’s hands crisped on her mug. She shrugged. “I don’t want to bother you with that. You have your own problems to deal with. It’s nothing.”

“Come on Gabby! You always have been there for me, it’s normal that I return the favor.” Camille moved closer. 

“No it’s ok really. My problems are nothing compared to yours.” The youngest could see in her face. It was as big, if not it hurted her as much as Camille had been hurt recently. No way she would let her handle this alone. 

“You can tell me everything, I promise it will stay between us.”

Gabrielle bit her lips, her eyes avoiding looking at her sister. She took a sip of her tea, took a deep breath. “I haven’t told mom and dad about it because… Well… Nathan and I… we…”

She didn’t press her, but her mind was thinking of all the worst scenarios. “We are trying to have a child, but… it’s my second miscarriage. I…I…” Gabrielle kept on admitting that this was the real reason they didn’t come for Christmas or New Year. It happened a week prior and Gabrielle didn’t have the heart for any festivity. She was afraid that this meant she would be just like her sister, incapable of having children. That their mother would be sad to never have grandchildren. How she was thinking of just giving up. That there was no hope.

No! Camille saw exactly where this would go, she understood the meaning, the feeling and she refused to let Gabrielle experience what she went through. Maybe not for the same reason, but it was still a slippery slope that would drag Gabrielle to such a dark place. She didn’t want to suffer the way she did and still was. The youngest removed the mug from her sister’s hand and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t care about mom. Don’t do it for her, you do it for yourself.” 

“I didn’t express myself correctly. Yes I worry what she would feel, but of course I do this for me. Don’t think I have no idea what having kids means.” 

“I know I know, you take the rational decision. I act first, think after.”

This made Gabrielle chuckled a little, a smile replacing her sad features. “I want to try once more but I am so scared it will happen again. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

“Take your time. I’m no doctor but there’s probably a reason why. Maybe stress, not the right moment, maybe who knows. Who knows maybe it’s when you won’t try that it will happen. But don’t force things, it will only make you feel worse. And don’t make up ‘what if’ scenarios. Not good! … I sound like my therapist… Damn.”

“Seems like you have learned a few things from these sessions. Thanks Cam. Promise you won’t tell the parents about this?”

“Promise.”

Gabrielle hugged her once more. “Thanks again. Talking about it with you felt good, lessen the burden a little to have someone in the family aware of this... Alright, I should get some rest as well. Goodnight, troublemaker.”

Camille smiled and wished her sweet dreams. Left alone in the room, the young woman thought about what happened. This sudden need to protect her sister, to make sure she will keep hope and it seemed to have work? Camille liked the feeling that it left. It was like she saved her… Save… She stood up and checked by the window. It was softly raining in the dark street, the light from the inside lamp reflecting and giving the illusion of a light outside. Maybe there were different ways to save people. She failed her friends, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of helping others. Life goes on and there will be new people in her life that she could protect. This time, she would do anything to assure it will happen. Anything.

That’s reckless behavior.

It is the kind of recklessness we always had.

“This is who I am and I won’t let anything let me doubt this.” She smiled at her reflection. Scotty felt like herself again. And that night, she dreamed of the good times before the accident, good memories which left her more rested than ever.

[bruggle]

so this is a dumb stupid one-shot based off @absolutely-normal-about-x 's amazing Legends Reborn AU (just with the unfortunate setting of my own bs) because holy moly the capacity for angst just got my imagination rearing its ugly head. So uh... enjoy

St. Clarity

Fandom: Megaman X, Megaman Legends

Words: 4,914 words

Angst, Hurt & Comfort, Humor

"I don't know you

But I know what you do"

-St. Clarity, The Paper Kites

A discovery in an old ruin leads to some uncovered memories.

  One of the last things Volnutt had ever expected in his life, was to find out he had a family. A pretty big one, at that. Four siblings, countless uncles and aunts (that he would unfortunately never meet), his father, it still boggled his mind. He kept thinking at some point he was going to wake up and find it all to be a dream; that he’d still be on the Flutter, looking for the next dig site.

  Don’t get him wrong, Volnutt was immensely grateful to the Casketts. They had taken him in freely when he had had no other place to go, after all. And Roll was practically a sister to him! He wouldn’t trade them for anything. But he couldn’t help but wish that someway, somehow, someone else could have uncovered all the stuff that lead to X and his family waaaaaay earlier than he and the Bonne’s had. …Was that selfish of him?

  “Hey pipsqueak, keep up!” Fefnir called, causing Volnutt to lose his train of thought. Despite the harsh words, he couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he picked up the pace to keep up with his older brother. He knew Fefnir didn’t mean anything by it. “Seriously, these ruins are BORING,” the red clad carbon complained. “Not one single bot in sight.” Volnutt couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hey, I said I was fine doing this one alone,” he reminded Fefnir. Volnutt had decided to explore the dilapidated building after X had told Barrell that it had once been apart of a city he had lived in. Abel City, he had called it if Volnutt recalled correctly. He wasn’t sure what he’d find, if anything. He had been able to deduce that this had once upon a time been some sort of residential building, but not much else. The surrounding buildings had been pretty well picked over. Why this one wasn’t, Volnutt had no real idea. He’d heard some Diggers call it haunted, but he hadn’t seen anything out the ordinary.

   “Eh, dad insisted I come,” Fefnir grumbled. “Something about having too much energy.” Volnutt struggled not to let his snickering be heard. That definitely sounded like dad. And Fefnir, for that matter. But he didn’t feel like getting a noogie, so he was going to keep that to himself. Rather, he decided to distract himself with the surroundings. These sorts of ruins always made him a little sad. People had lived here, once a upon a time. Decaying chairs, torn up sofas, …suspicious mush, at one point it had all been new. It had been used. Perhaps even well loved by the owner. But now, now it was just… destroyed. No longer worth anything. It always made him melancholic.

  “I’m not gonna tell you again, squirt!” came Fefnir’s voice from way down the hallway. Volnutt hadn’t even realized he had fallen so far behind. “Sorry!” he apologized. “Just-“ A loud, exaggerated sigh from Fefnir cut him off. “Sometimes I wonder how on Earth you managed to get this far as a Digger,” he chastised. Well now Volnutt was a little miffed. “Hey, I’ve been doing just fine, thank you,” he bit back. The older sibling merely rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “I’m going to fall asleep if I have to keep going at your pace.” Volnutt narrowed his eyes at the red clad Carbon. “Then just go ahead without me,” he snarked. “I’ll be fine.” Fefnir considered his younger sibling for a minute before smirking. “Fine,” he agreed. “Just don’t tell dad.” And despite all his irritation with his older sibling, Volnutt couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips. “Deal,” And with that, Fefnir went on ahead. Leaving Volnutt alone with his thoughts. Now, he had a chance to actually look at all the rooms. Well, to call them rooms was a bit of an understatement. They were like mini-houses. (Apartments, his brain supplied). Eventually, however, he came across something strange.

  It was a door.

  Which wasn’t that strange in of itself. It was just the fact that beneath all the hundreds of thousands of layers of dust, it was a different color from all the other doors in the building. And it was closed. How did this one manage to stay unscathed from the hundreds of Diggers before him? Giving the knob an experimental turn (perhaps this apartment just had a draft that automatically closed the door), he found it to be locked. That was… definitely weird. Volnutt recalled the stories of this particular building being haunted; perhaps there was a teensy bit of validity to those claims… Did he feel like being a horror movie protagonist?

  Eh. Worse comes to worse, he could just call for Fefnir to deal with it. He’d probably enjoy trying to fight a ghost.

  Bracing his shoulder against the frame, Volnutt shoved himself against the door. It opened quite easily, splintering into thousands of pieces. Oops. Guess he should have figured it was rotting. Inside, he noticed that unlike the hundreds of other apartments he and Fefnir had passed by, this one was completely untouched. Well, unless you count all the stuff flung on the ground due to seismic activity. So, Volnutt wandered inside. While the furniture was cool, he had a sinking suspicion that none of it would last very long if he so much as touched it. Abel City was from his dad’s prime, for goodness sakes. Rather than risk irreversible damage to the inanimate inhabitants of the house (and risk making the potential ghost angrier!), Volnutt instead chose to step into the kitchen portion of the room. There were a couple of appliances on the counter, really old tech though. He wasn’t sure if there’d be any sort of price for that. Although… there was always the possibility that maybe someone was collecting this sort of stuff. Next to said counter was a long dead refrigerator.

  Hard pass on looking anywhere near that.

  Instead, he chose to look inside of one of the drawers. And was surprised to find silverware. Much like what he usually ate with. He recalled X saying something about Abel City being apart of a country called… Japan? Maybe? Either way, he had claimed that a vast majority of people there used something called “chopsticks” to eat food with. Which was basically just two sticks one held in a certain way in order to pick up and grip said food. Sounded super complicated to Volnutt. So it was odd seeing regular old silverware here. Who knows, maybe the last owner found the concept of chopsticks complicated, too.

  Closing the drawer, Volnutt looked towards the living space. There was a simple couch, and an egg shaped chair. That was kind of cool. All the tables, however, had all sorts of clutter on them. Like the owner was far too lazy to find a proper space for everything. Maybe they just thought there would be time for it later…

 Ok, that’s enough sad thoughts.

  In any case, maybe there’d be something interesting over there.

  As Volnutt made his way over to the space, his boot crunched upon some glass. Looking down, he noticed a couple of picture frames on the floor. Crouching down, he gently picked one up. It was upside down, of course. So he gently turned it over.

  And his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

  Within the frame, was a picture of X. Back from when he was still a reploid. He was sitting at a desk; looking over some sort of thin, holographic pad, while holding onto some sort of wonky looking mug. There were some markings on the cup, but they either must have been decorative or in some old language. Volnutt couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But… just the fact that this picture somehow survived everything was a miracle. Maybe the person who lived here was a fan or something. X had mentioned that he had been pretty well known back in the day, after all. Heck, maybe this person had more! Excited at the prospect, Volnutt quickly flipped over another picture.

  This one, however, was not of his father. Rather, it showed a young woman standing next to a different reploid. He looked pretty young, not that that meant much from what he recalled X telling him about reploids. The reploid was clad in navy and grey armor; red marks could be seen going down it in intricate patterns, with a bright, blue gem on both the chest piece and helmet. His ears reminded Volnutt of a cat, almost, and his red hair was spiked up like a fire. The most defining feature of the reploid, however, was an ‘x’ shaped scar spreading across his nose. The woman, on the other hand, was rather plain. Ruddy brown hair pulled into a long braid off to the right side of her face, she was dressed rather casually. Just a mauve shirt, jeans, and a comically oversized army green coat. Both her and the reploid were smiling, striking a victory sign at the camera.

   Volnutt couldn’t help but smile back at it. He remembered both his father and siblings speaking about how awful things between reploids and humans used to be. At least these two somehow managed to get along.

  “Is this where you’ve been the whole time?”

  If you asked him, Volnutt definitely did not scream. Not even a peep. No sir, he was definitely not taken by surprise from Fefnir’s sudden reappearance. The laugh that Fefnir let out, however, would tell you this was one hundred percent a lie.

  “Dang, now I’m really wondering how you’re still alive,” Fefnir teased. “You’d never survive out on the battlefield.” Volnutt turned away from his older sibling, -definitely not hiding a blush- glaring at the wall. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “Did you find anything?” Fefnir let out a puff of irritation. “Nope, not even a good fight,” he complained. “How about you? Find anything in this dump?” Volnutt rolled his eyes at his siblings blunt language. “Kind of,” he said, showing Fefnir the frame he had been holding. “There’s also one of dad from when he was a reploid!” Fefnir grabbed the picture with an interested look on his face as Volnutt picked up the previously discarded photo of their father. The older sibling also glanced at the picture in his baby brother’s hands. “I mean, that’s definitely him,” Fefnir mused. “But not how I remember him looking. Must have been an older model then. Now this…” he raised the picture in his lap hands. “You know who that is?” Volnutt shook his head. “Do you?” he asked. Fefnir let out a snort. “Yeah, that’s Uncle Axl,” he grinned.

  “Wait, what?!”

  “Yeah, I remember seeing pics of him in the archives,” Fefnir explained. “Not my favorite place, but hey. Had to learn some stuff somehow. No idea who the chick is, though.” Volnutt shrugged. “Maybe a friend,” he guessed. “Or, I don’t know, maybe a fan?” Fefnir shrugged as well. “Who knows,” he said, tossing the picture onto the ground. “I’m ready to go home. I’m hungry.” Volnutt let out a scoff as he quickly picked up the discarded photo. “Fine,” he grumbled, gathering the two pictures in his arms. “Let’s get out of here.” Fefnir quirked a brow. “You’re bringing those home?” he asked. Volnutt nodded, glaring at his brother. “Yeah, I think dad would like them,” he insisted. “Besides, then this wasn’t a total bust.” Fefnir merely rolled his eyes. “Whatever, pipsqueak,”

  “Whatever, jerk face,”

   Fefnir let out a laugh at that.

 

 

  It was cathartic, to say the least. The life X was now living. No longer was he the legendary Maverick Hunter, nor was he the leader of what remained of society. He was just… X. A source for historical knowledge, to be sure, but there was nothing hanging on his shoulders. He could just… be a father for his children. It was truly the greatest privilege he had ever experienced. Currently, said privilege involved making dinner. Nights were slowly becoming colder as fall was settling further and further in the year, thus he had decided on an easy and simple soup. It was then that he realized it was uncharacteristically quiet in the house. That rarely boded well.

  “HARPUIA, I WILL END YOU!”

  Ah, there it was.

  “Levi, we do not yell in the house!” X called out to his daughter from the kitchen. He had no idea what had happened this time, but it was a common occurrence for arguments to break out. “He went into my room!” Leviathan argued, entering the kitchen. “I did not!” Harpuia called from the living room. "We still do not yell,” X chastised. Levi just let out a loud groan. “Now Harpuia, did you go into Levi’s room?” X asked, he had a sneaking suspicion it was not in fact Harpuia, but rather the younger… more mischievous son. “No, father,” Harpuia answered. “Of course you would say that!” Levi grumbled.

  “And what exactly is your proof?” X asked her. “I found feathers all over the floor!” she argued. “Ah yes,” Harpuia snarked from his seat on the couch. “I went into your room where I know you don’t want me, and made sure to leave a ton of feathers specifically so that you would know I was there. Truly, a brilliant plan on my part.” Levi let out a snarl at him. “That’s enough, you two,” X snapped. Sometimes he wondered how they had managed as Guardians. But, carbons were far closer to humans than they were reploids; it made sense that they wouldn’t be quite as mature in this form as they had been, once upon a time. “Phantom!” he called out for his younger son. “Yes, father?” the purple clad boy answered in a honeyed tone, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Had X not been used to combat all his life, he likely would have been startled. However, it was that coupled with the fact that Phantom had a tendency to sneak around like a cat that left him rather used to it. “Stop sneaking into your sister’s room,” X chastised. Phantom put on an offended expression. “I would never!” he said, acting aghast at the mere mention. “Is that why you wanted some of my feathers?” Harpuia asked, finally entering the kitchen.

 “YOU,” Leviathan yelled at her younger sibling. “Leviathan!” X barked. “What did I just say?!” In lieu of answering, Levi leapt at her younger brother. Phantom’s quick reflexes were the only thing that saved him from winding up on the ground.

  Just another day.

  “NOT IN THE HOUSE!” X yelled at his two younger children. Neither acknowledged him, of course. Phantom was currently running out of the kitchen with Levi in hot pursuit. X let out a long-suffering sigh. He loved his children, but they certainly were a handful. “I’ll make sure they don’t break anything,” Harpuia sighed as he trailed off after his siblings. “Thank you, Harpuia,” X groaned as he turned back to the task he had been interrupted in. It was nearly ready, he just had to add the noodles. As he did so, X took a look at the time. It was slowly getting darker out, causing worry to bubble up in his chest. He hadn’t heard anything from Fefnir and Volnutt yet… X knew his boys were capable Diggers, but he still couldn’t help but worry about them whenever they were a little late. The two hadn’t said anything about it being a long excursion, but things often had a tendency to change.

  In any case, X knew better than to make mountains out of molehills. If anything had gone wrong, those two knew exactly who to call.

  The sound of the front door slamming dragged X from his musings with a quiet groan. “Sorry!” called out a voice he hadn’t quite been expecting, much to his relief. Volnutt and Fefnir had made it home safely. X couldn’t help the fond smile that spread over his face as he turned to see all five of his children enter the kitchen. Phantom looked a little worse for wear, but it seems that Levi had shown mercy; Fefnir was currently teasing his brother about it. Harpuia was shaking his head at the three’s antics, while Volnutt was carrying something in his arms. “How was the dig?” X asked. Fefnir let out a loud groan, a disappointed look on his face. “Complete bust,” he grumbled. “Nothing worth fighting, nothing worth a buck, and it was BORING.” X let out a chuckle. “What about you, Volnutt?” he asked his youngest. “What’d you find?”

  Volnutt froze for a second, still seemingly unused to the amount of attention he’d often get from his family. “Oh uh…” Volnutt shifted the contents in his arms. “It’s… It’s nothing.” X watched Fefnir give him a weird look, but ultimately shrug. The blue clad carbon thought about pressing his youngest on the matter; it certainly didn’t seem like ‘nothing’ the way he was clutching it to his chest, but perhaps it was just something he wanted to keep to himself for now. “Alright, well, go ahead and get washed up,” X said. “All of you. Dinner is almost ready.”

  It then became a mad dash between all five to get to the bathroom sink first.

  Never a dull moment in this house, X thought to himself.

 

 

  That evening, after all the dishes had been washed and put up (a family bonding activity that X made sure everyone participated in, much to their chagrin), X was sitting down in his study. It was… sparse to say the least. Books were on the rarer side, something X often missed. They had been seen as a novel thing, back in his day; what with holopads being seen as more convenient. But he had often preferred the feel of turning physical pages. Now, while holopads were a thing of myth, so many stories had been lost due to time. Even with all the effort the Neo Arcadian archivists put in all those years ago, some things just couldn’t be avoided.

  A knock at the door brought X out of his thoughts. A knock he knew well. Checking the clock, he saw that it was a still a good amount of time before he preferred be in bed. Not that he was getting old! Well, he was (something he was admittedly grateful for) but not that old! “Come in,” he called; and just as he suspected, his youngest entered the room. Volnutt was holding something behind his back, peaking X’s curiosity. “What can I do for you?” X asked with a fond smile, putting the book he had been reading off to the side. “Uh… well,” Volnutt started, staring at the ground. “While Fefnir and I were on that dig, I uh… I found something interesting.” X let out a chuckle. “So you did find something, then?” he teased, causing Volnutt to blush a bit as he tried to come up with words to defend himself. It was far too easy to fluster the poor boy.

  “I’m just teasing,” X assured his youngest. “Let me see what you found.” Reluctantly, Volnutt handed over an old, (rather destroyed) picture frame. Looking over it, X was flabbergasted to see a picture of himself from before the Elf Wars. “Where did you find this?” he asked, puzzled. He certainly didn’t remember this one being taken. It looked like it had been taken within one of his homes rather than the usual Maverick Hunter HQ photo-op. “Fefnir and I went to the Abel City ruins,” Volnutt explained. “I found this in one of the apartments.” X gave a hum of understanding. While he was still raking his brain to try and place the moment when he would have had this picture taken, Volnutt had already brought out another frame from behind his back. “I uh… I also found this one of Uncle Axl,” he explained. That caught X off guard. Perhaps the boys had stumbled upon the home of an old fan. In any case, X set down the first picture in order to hold onto the second.

  He was not prepared for what he saw.

 

  Volnutt noticed the shift of his father’s demeanor immediately. X had gone stock still, a hand slowly reaching up to cover his mouth. Had… had he done something wrong? Or… maybe his dad just hadn’t been ready to see an old picture of his friend after so long. Finally, after what felt like forever, X let out a watery sounding laugh. “That… that makes so much more sense now,” he mused, a melancholic look to his eyes. Volnutt was confused. What made sense? “Dad?” he asked. X shook his head. “Sorry, I just-“ he let out a deep sigh; closing his eyes as he shook his head.

  When he opened them again, Volnutt saw that there were tears at the edge of his eyes. Ah crap, he hadn’t wanted to make his dad cry! Now what?! “Was that Uncle Axl’s girlfriend?” Volnutt blurted out. Ah yes. Real smooth. X let out another laugh. “Oh no,” he vehemently denied. “No, no, no. That-“ he let out another chocked sound. “That,” he tried again with a sigh. “Is you’re oldest sister, Brook.”

  Volnutt looked at the picture in disbelief. His… oldest sister? “What?” he asked. “I don’t-“ X cut him off with a shake of his head. “It’s… it’s my fault,” he murmured. “I… I hadn’t thought of her in years. It hurt too much.” Volnutt glanced at his father, not entirely sure what to say. What do you say to that? “What happened to her?’ Volnutt quietly asked. X didn’t answer, but Volnutt could see that his grip on the picture had tightened by the whitening of his knuckles.

  “War,” he finally, quietly answered.

  Oh. Volnutt took another glance at the photo. It… it was a lot sadder now. “Were she and Axl good friends?” he asked, trying to distract X. Another watery smile crossed X’s face. “Oh, they got along like a house on fire,” he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. “To this day, I am still surprised that they never did. They sure tried their darndest.” Volnutt smiled at that. “How is she… uh… related?” Volnutt didn’t know if that was the right word, but oh well. X shook his head with a fond smile. “Well, I wound up taking her in after she pulled quite the stunt at sixteen,” he explained.

  “What did she do?”

  “She disguised herself as a reploid in order to hunt Mavericks.”

  Volnutt stared at his father in disbelief. “What?” he exclaimed, as X let out another small laugh. “No way! How’d she do that?!”

  “Well, with the help of an old, retired hunter, she managed to make a set of reploid armor that would help disguise the fact that she was human,” X explained. “He also walked her through on how to reverse engineer a buster into a rifle. You had to have special permits to buy a buster where she lived, and only hunters were eligible for that.”

  “Why couldn’t she just be a hunter?” Volnutt asked. X let out a small sigh. “For starters, she was too young,” he said. “Age restrictions were taken a lot more seriously back then.” X gave Volnutt a pointed look at that. The younger carbon looked away; he knew his dad wasn’t the biggest fan of how young he was when he became a Digger, not that he had had a choice in the matter! “Not only that, but humans either had to be in a partnership with reploids,” X continued. “Or join what was known as the Guild in her country in order to hunt Mavericks. It was a safety thing.”

  “So… why did she do it then?”

  “Nobody else would,” X sighed with a defeated tone. “This was before the flood, so there was a lot of land back then. And a lot of places where farmers and people who didn’t want to live in cities lived were getting overlooked by both the Hunters and Guild. Mercenaries wouldn’t go out there either; not enough money to be made. So, she decided to do something about it.” Volnutt was quiet for a minute. “What about her parents?” he finally asked. “Why didn’t they stop her?” X sadly shook his head. “Brook’s parents…” he sighed. “They had died two years prior. Mavericks.” Volnutt made a quiet ‘oh’. “So… how’d she get found out?” he continued with his questions.

  X glanced at him. “You remember me telling you about Massimo, Marino, and Cinnamon, right?” he asked, to which Volnutt nodded. He liked hearing about Massimo. “Well, they had been dispatched to a small city where Brook just so happened to be tracking down a Maverick. She wound up saving Cinnamon, actually. But, she definitely was not acting like a reploid should when they tried talking to her.

  “So they wound up calling me as well as HQ to report her as a potential Maverick. And I chose to see what was going on. She was not an easy person to track down, let me tell you.” Volnutt couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Only reason I wound up catching her was because she fell out of a tree.”

  “Was she okay?”

 X shrugged. “A few broken bones, but nothing too much worse,” he told Volnutt. He winced, that certainly didn’t sound like fun. “So what caused you to take her in?” the younger boy asked. “Well, given that she broke a lot of laws, Brook was facing a lot of trouble,” X continued. “But, the news of what she did spread pretty quickly. And practically every farmer took her side. They were threatening to stop working if she was jailed. So the government decided to go ahead and enlist her into the Guild despite her age.

  “And I just… I couldn’t let that happen,” X let out a sigh, a sad look on his face as he looked at the photo again. “It was bad enough to me that she had started acting as a mercenary, the rest of her life shouldn’t have revolved around fighting either. I just… I wanted to get her away from it and live the rest of her life as a normal human.”

  “Did she?” Volnutt asked. X looked at his youngest with a wry smile. “Not even a little bit,” he sighed. “Oh, she was so angry when I told her I was taking her to Japan. That girl was dead set on fighting Mavericks, one way or another. We had so many arguments about the smallest things. Part of it was her hating the city, and the other part of it was her hating me, I think.” Volnutt gave X a bewildered look. “No way,” he denied. “There’s no way she could have hated you. You’re the best dad ever!” X chuckled as he ruffled Volnutt’s hair. “You have no idea how much that means to me,” he told his youngest. “But, in her defense, she was dealing with a lot of baggage already. And quite frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. We both had to figure things out.” X then let out another chuckle. “She one time bit a kid at school,” he said.

  “What?!”

  “Oh yes,” X laughed. “She got into a fight with three boys at school and wound up biting one of them. That was by far the worst argument we got into.” Volnutt looked incredulously at the picture. Who would have thought. “So did she wind up joining the Guild?” Volnutt asked hesitantly. X let out a long sigh. “No, she instead wound up joining the Maverick Hunters,” he murmured. “Wound up losing her citizenship to her birth country because of it, but a deal was struck. Whenever there wasn’t a crisis, she would lead a team of rookies, whenever possible, to rural areas to track down stray Mavericks. ‘Coon-hunting’ she called it.”

  Volnutt let out a chuckle. He didn’t know what a ‘coon’ was, but it was a funny word. “So what did she do?” he asked. “Like… in terms of fighting. I mean… I doubt she was doing what you, Uncle Zero, and Uncle Axl were doing.” X shook his head. “Oh no,” he said. “Brook was smart about it. She kept her distance. Sniping was her profession, and she was very good at it. Saved Axl’s butt on more than one occasion.”

  X sighed, gently placing the photo down on his desk. “She would have loved all of you,” he muttered, wrapping his arm around Volnutt. “Thank you, for this.” Volnutt returned his father’s hug, glad to have shown it to him. “Hey, so if those photos were in that apartment we found,” Volnutt began. “I bet that means that might have been hers. Do you… do you maybe want to go look at it tomorrow?” X’s eyes softened. “I would love to,” he said. “Awesome!” Volnutt cheered. “OH! And maybe we could bring everyone else! They could hear about her too!”

  “I think I would like that.”

 

 

 

It was a shame carbons had lost the ability to see Cyber Elves. If they hadn’t, perhaps the two exiting the room would have noticed a familiar face currently watching them with a sad, but fond smile.

In any case, it was time to go.

[dylbobaggins168]

15 curtwen

you shot me.

prompt: get over it. pairing: curtwen wordcount: 844

~~~~~

“You shot me.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic.”

“YOU. SHOT. ME.”

It had been a long day, several long days actually, and both agents were exhausted and frustrated. The two of them had been in deep cover for a while, and now that they were finally back at the safehouse, all emotions were finally spilling over.

Now Owen hadn’t meant to harm Curt, at least not in a way that would hurt him more than strictly necessary for their cover, but of course there had been a slight hiccup in their plan. Curt had struggled a little too much, so his shot was off, and so he had been injured. Owen didn’t see what the big fuss was about though, since Curt hadn’t been hit anywhere that would cause lasting damage, and Owen was right there fixing him up.

“I had to or they would have done a lot worse, love, and you’ll be alright. Just sit still and let me take care of you, okay? The sooner we fix you up, the better it’ll be for both of us.”

Curt scoffed but sat still. Owen had still shot him, and although they both knew that anyone else would do a lot worse, deep down he was grateful for the minor injury. They could both treat something like this decently well in a safehouse, and now they had a few days together in a safehouse. Never the ideal conditions but it was the best they could get. Limited safety and privacy, but it was better than nothing at all.

The two sat in near silence as Owen tended to Curt’s wounds, and then as Curt returned the favour. His movements were limited so that he wouldn’t disturb his own injuries and bandages, Owen having insisted on it. Wordless and yet still firm in the way he looked at Curt. Of course he would have his way when it came to these serious matters, so long as it was in both of their best interests.

“You still shot me. That shit hurts. I thought the plan was to aim somewhere less painful and easier to clean up after. You know Cynthia leaves the bare minimum of time to heal after a mission.”

Owen shrugged slightly, a knowing grin that Curt both adored and despised gracing his lips. If only he could move more than miniscule amounts to press a kiss to those frustrating lips.

“Get over it. We get hurt on these missions, Curt. If there was a way to avoid it, I would have, but quite frankly I’m glad I shot you where I did. A little annoying I suppose but it is part of our job.”

Owen reached out to Curt, hand carefully cradling his face as his thumb ran across Curt’s cheek. Moments like those, so soft and yet so hard to come by in their line of work, and so appreciated by both when shared with one another. Curt leaned into the touch, eyes closing for a second as he treasured that moment, storing it carefully in his memories. Each of the smallest interactions with Owen were kept there, visited as often as he could allow.

“Fine, but only because it’s you. Nobody else would get away with it.”

Curt’s hands made their way up to twist in Owen’s hair, fingers lightly scratching at his scalp in a way that made the Brit move even closer. They remained silent for longer than either could keep track of, holding one another and trying not to think of how soon they would be parted once more.

Eventually their silence and stillness was broken by movement from Owen, leaning up to press their lips together. It wasn’t a rushed kiss like they had stolen away in the middle of their missions, not in the slightest. It was sweet and slow and gentle and everything both of them needed. Curt opened his mouth to say something once they pulled away, but was interrupted by Owen before he could even start speaking.

“You know, you stabbed me earlier when we were tied up together, so I didn’t get away completely unscathed from you.”

A grin rose to Curt’s face and a twinkle returned to his eye, playful and excited to send Owen’s words right back at him.

“Oh get over it. It could have been worse. I could have shot you.”

A gentle shove and a slightly pained yelp followed, and then laughter. Sure, it hurt a little, but things could be worse for both of them. There were much worse things that could happen to spies than simply getting shot once or twice, and at least they had each other.

Besides, they knew what Cynthia and the director of MI6 would say to them when they returned to their respective agencies. It was what they always said when either of them complained about injuries or missions they’d rather not go on. It was always the same advice, although Curt would argue it was more of a command when it came from Cynthia.

Get over it.