#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.

[perseephoneee]

sleigh ride [ficmas day 8] [castiel x reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

author's note: this is a day late bc my stomach has been killing me and also i was hella sleep deprived but you know what it's fine totally fine nothing to see here

playlist:

winter wonderland -- pentatonix

coffee -- tori kelly

7 o'clock news/silent night -- phoebe bridgers

You never thought about kids, not in your line of work. 

The reasons people got into hunting were varied. Most of it was personal. For you, you just couldn’t deal with the knowledge of the supernatural world and not bother actually doing something about it. Even though you knew that doing so would likely mean a young death.

This is why you stopped thinking about kids; you’d likely never have them. But being stuck in Leavenworth, WA, with Castiel gave you the same kind of glee. You imagine parents likely got excited to watch their children experience Christmas for the first time. That’s the same joy you felt watching the angel observe all the twinkling lights around you. 

The difference is that Castiel is not your child. And if he was, that’d be gross, considering you are harboring a major crush on him. 

Maybe you should’ve thought of a different analogy. 

You had been hunting with the Winchesters for a bit now. You all ran into each other on a ghost case. Your hula hoop of salt made their jaws drop, and the next thing you know, Sam is inviting you to hunt with them. You didn’t know that Castiel was a regular member of that group. 

Even in his vessel, you could sense something otherworldly about Cas. There was a sort of preternatural stillness, an ancient gleam in his eyes otherwise juxtaposed by his lack of knowledge of human nature. It was so easy to get lost in his curiosity. Sometimes, when he looked at you, you couldn’t help but feel his gaze observing every molecule you were. Like he saw you better than anyone else. 

Right now, you felt like you saw him better than anyone else, the angel so ready to give up everything for humanity. It was late, and snow was falling. You had all decided to take an extra night in Leavenworth after a Krampus case had gone wrong (don’t ask). Also, Baby was struggling to get out of the snow, and Dean was too wired up to ask for help. Fortunately, it was the Christmas season, and Leavenworth knew it. The town looked like the North Pole. You weren’t surprised it was a tourist attraction, not when there were actual reindeer and Bavarian-style buildings. The cup of hot cocoa you had earlier solidified this town as Christmas incarnate. 

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked, watching Cas catch more and more snowflakes on him. He just shook them off. 

“I don’t get cold.”

“Lucky you, I’m freezing,” you shivered, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. Your nose was ice cold, and your breath came out in puffs. Castiel frowned, walking back over to you. He shucked off his trench coat and put it over your shoulders. You felt your cheeks heat as he made sure you were adequately cocooned. The jacket was surprisingly warm. “Thanks,” you murmured.

“I do not want you catching a cold,” Castiel said. “I am ill-equipped to handle it.”

You laughed. His lips quirked for a second before settling into their normal neutral expression. You would give the world to see him smile. 

“I’m going to go inside and get something to drink. Are you going to stay out here?”

“No, I will join you,” Castiel nodded. He paused for a second. “Is that alright? Dean often tells me people want alone time.”

You melted.

“Of course, it’s alright, c’mon,” you nudged him with your shoulder, still bundled in his jacket. You walked the short distance back to the inn. The idea of mulled wine sounded appealing at this moment. The inside was a picturesque log cabin with a roaring fire. You let out a sigh of relief from the warmth and were able to return Cas' jacket to him. You also were able to remove your hat and scarf. You probably looked like a sweaty mess, but you didn’t care. You chose a seat by the fire and tucked your legs under you as Cas came to sit across. A waitress came over a second later, and you ordered mulled wine for the both of you. 

“I don’t really drink,” Castiel added after the waitress left. 

“You can just tell me what the chemical compounds are,” you shrugged. Castiel looked out of place in his suit and tie. And yet, the light from the fire accenting his bone structure, contrasting the blue in his eyes, was enough to think that this was where he was always meant to be. 

He was frowning at the tree. 

“Why do humans put angels on their trees?” he inquired, brows furrowed. You looked up to see a stereotypical angel planted on top of the Christmas Tree. It had a little horn and everything. 

“I think people like to imagine there’s someone watching over us, that we’re not alone,” you sighed, turning back to him. “Even if it isn’t true.”

“It’s true for some,” Castiel murmured. “I watch over you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, especially as Castiel looked at you with those intense eyes again. You had to wonder if he was really this clueless, or if he knew exactly the effect he had on you. You watched him lick a sauce off his fingers once, and it was enough to make you excuse yourself from the room. 

The mulled wine arrived a moment later. 

The spices were a perfect blend, and you felt yourself sink deeper into your chair as the alcohol invaded your system. Castiel took a sip and nodded. 

“Mostly ethanol and water,” Castiel sipped it again. You grinned as he listed off the ingredients. He would ruin anyone who wanted to keep a secret ingredient. 

“Last call for sleigh rides!” a man dressed as an elf called out, having come in from the front door. You perked up immediately. You had never been on a sleigh ride before but have always wanted to. You have a soft spot for horses. 

“We should do that,” you jumped up, grabbing Castiel’s sleeve. He spilled the wine, but you were already out the door. You barely had time to throw on your hat and scarf as you were running after the elf man. Castiel, to his credit, kept up with you. 

“One sleigh ride, please!” you said, breathless. The man just looked you up and down and then took your money as you jumped with glee. 

“What is a sleigh ride?” Castiel questioned when he caught up. He was not out of breath. 

“You get to sit in a sleigh and get pulled around by horses.”

“And this is entertainment?”

“It’s serene,” you smiled, getting good luck at the horses pulling your sleigh. They were beautiful Clydesdales, and even in their enormity, you weren’t intimidated. They were beautiful. Cas didn’t ask any further questions as you piled into the sleigh. You took one of the blankets provided and put it over your lap, bundling it up. The sleigh was going to pull you through the town, emphasizing the light installations and ice sculpting competition. The cold kissed your cheeks as the sleigh started moving. 

You both sat in companionable silence as the sleigh ride started. It was so quiet, and you welcomed that peace. When did you ever receive peace such as this?

“I understand now,” Cas nodded. “Why you were excited over this.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. Someone had built an igloo, and you took your phone out to take a picture. Castiel just looked at you.

“I don’t measure beauty the same way humans do.”

“How do you measure beauty?” you inquired. Some part of you was worried that whatever he was going to say would dash your dreams. 

“By someone’s soul.”

That wasn’t the answer you were expecting, and you just blinked in response. It shouldn’t be shocking. You just never expected that maybe he would never see your face, only your soul. You wondered if your soul was beautiful. 

You didn’t say anything as you passed through a light tunnel, the brightness contrasting with the night sky. You could fall asleep out here if you let yourself. 

“What are you thinking?” Cas asked. He noticed your silence. 

“Is my soul…?” you trailed off. You barely had the guts to say anything at all. Castiel’s gaze softened as if he understood. 

“Your soul is like the North Star,” he answered simply. You kept looking at him. “It’s what one needs to follow to get themselves home.”

He was full of surprises tonight. You don’t remember anyone saying anything like that, especially not to you. How absurd was it that the first person to truly see you was not a person at all? Your heart picked up pace. 

“Cas…” you murmured. He never looked away from you, was never shy. It was unnerving and intense. He would never be too scared and proceed to look away. You couldn’t help but look at his lips. He noticed. His hand came up and brushed loose hair away from your beanie, his fingers somehow still warm as they brushed your freezing cheeks. You sucked in a breath. 

“I do not understand human courtship,” he whispered. “I would be interested in you showing me.”

You understood; how could you not? He just called you his home. You closed the distance between you two, going slow until you weren’t slow at all. Your hand cupped the back of his head, pulling him into you. You kissed him like you needed him to kiss you. Fortunately, Castiel was a quick learner. He nipped your lips and kissed your teeth like he had been doing it his whole life. You would sell your soul to kiss him for eternity, just like this. His hand was firm on your hip like he was afraid to touch anywhere else. You wished he would touch you everywhere. 

You had to pull away for air, even if he tried to chase after your lips afterward. 

“You’re a quick study,” you breathed a slight smile on your lips. Castiel grinned a true goofy smile that you had been yearning to see. You were the cause of that style. 

“Anything for you,” he responded. 

He kissed you until the sleigh ride was over, and the worker was rolling his eyes. He kissed you when you made it back to the inn, and you felt like you could feel his wings holding you closer. You would stay with him until you weren’t able to because with him, you were finally home. 

taglist: @thefutureastronaut @lover-of-books-and-tea @qardasngan @evasmlp

[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

[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.”

[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.

[cuddlepilefics]

Homecooked meals @fluff-cember

@hurtcember : 23 bedbound

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Seungmin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

TW: emeto

No one’s POV.:

“Lix, do you know if we have any tea left?”, Seungmin hummed as he shifted on the couch. Him and Felix were enjoying a quiet evening watching movies but he just couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Shrugging, Felix muttered: “I dunno, why don’t you go check? Do you want me to check for you?” – “Please”, Seungmin breathed. He wouldn’t usually make one of his friends get up but his stomach hurt and had he known for sure that they had tea, he would’ve gone and made himself a cup, but not knowing whether the effort would actually be rewarded made it hard for the vocalist to find the energy to get up. 

“Good news is, we still have some peppermint tea, though that’s all we have”, Felix informed, “I turned on the kettle in case you’re fine with peppermint.” – “Peppermint’s alright”, Seungmin mumbled, resting his chin on his knees that he had drawn up to his chest. Taking a seat next to the younger, Felix frowned: “Are you okay? You look peachy.” – “Stomach’s been bothering me since lunch and it’s really starting to hurt now”, Seungmin admitted, nervously palming at his middle. “What did you have?”, Felix asked since they had both spent the day out. Taking a shaky breath, the vocalist mumbled: “Some sort of stir-fry. Gosh, I can still taste it every time I burp and it’s not sitting right at all.” – “I’m sorry. I’ll get you your tea and we’ll see whether that soothes your stomach”, Felix cooed as he got up to head back to the kitchen.

As they resumed their movie, Seungmin slowly sipped his tea. It felt nice initially, until the liquid started to slosh around and he shakily placed the cup onto the coffee table. Curling even further into himself, Seungmin felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Felix reached over to rub his back for comfort but the younger couldn’t bear to be touched right now. A wave of heat washed over him and he felt the fabric of his hoodie cling to his skin when he tried to switch up his position. 

“I think, I’ll go sit in the bathroom for a bit”, Seungmin announced quietly, already walking off while Felix fumbled to pause their movie. The dancer was shocked, sure, he had known that his friend wasn’t feeling well but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. Though, knowing how Seungmin always tried to hide his struggle, he should’ve known there was more to it the moment the younger spoke up about not feeling well. The sound of retching pulled Felix from his thoughts and he followed Seungmin to the bathroom, only to find the door unsurprisingly locked. Of course, his friend wanted his space. Since Felix didn’t remember who Seungmin had been out with, he texted their group chat afraid one of the other members might have gotten food poisoning too.

Felix had expected Seungmin to just shuffle out of the bathroom at some point when he felt like he was done but that didn’t happen. The Aussie had heard the lock click but Seungmin made no move to exit, so he went to check on the younger. “Here, I got you some water”, Felix hummed as he approached the slumped figure on the floor. A soft, pained whimper escaped Seungmin before he looked up at Felix, face ashy pale, his forehead coated with a sheen of sweat. Kneeling down next to the vocalist, Felix brushed the damp bangs out of his face and frowned: “Do you at least want to rinse your mouth? Come on, I’ll help you sit up.” Despite the Aussie’s help, Seungmin shook from the strain and weakly rinsed his mouth before leaning against the bathtub, closing his eyes.

Running a wash cloth under cold water, Felix gently wiped Seungmin’s face and whispered: “How are you doing now?” – “Awful, ‘s so much worse than earlier”, Seungmin groaned, holding his head, “’m so dizzy an’ my head hurts.” – “Should we get you to bed? I’ll bring a bucket”, the older offered, holding out both of his hands. It took him quite a bit of effort to maneuver Seungmin off the floor but even more to keep him on his feet. The room seemed to spin around him and Seungmin desperately clung to Felix to not lose his balance. “I got you”, the Aussie promised, “Just try to put one foot in front of the other and I’ll make sure you end up in your room.”

Seungmin shook from the strain as he collapsed on his bed, stunned that he could go from feeling a little uncomfortable to miserable in such a short time. Promising to be back soon, Felix rushed to fetch their cleaning bucket and Seungmin’s water bottle. The younger had curled up on his side and Felix cooed: “Can I get you anything? I’m sorry you feel so awful.” – “Could you stay and distract me? Please?”, Seungmin breathed, throat raw from being sick. Of course, Felix couldn’t deny him and sat with him gossiping about the protagonists of the movie they had been watching.

With how deeply he had fallen asleep to Felix’ rambling, Seungmin didn’t wake up when their doorbell rang and Felix rushed to open before it would ring again. The Aussie’s face lit up when he realized their friends had come over to help them out and he followed Minho to the kitchen, where the older started making some soup. Chan started the rice cooker and Jeongin picked up some of Seungmin’s favorite tea, knowing the other had run out of it only a couple days ago. “Changbin and Hyunjin are on their way too but they said they’d take a detour to pick up some medicine”, Chan informed softly, “How’s he doing?” – “Got really sick”, Felix pouted worriedly, “He was so dizzy, he could barely walk but he’s asleep now.” – “Oh dear, I’ll go check on him”, the leader sighed, quietly making his way to Seungmin’s room.

From outside the door, Chan could already hear Seungmin cough and rushed to step in. The younger had snatched the bucket off the floor and forcefully choked up a wave of what seemed to be mainly water. Chan was by his side in an instant and rubbed his back, wincing when he felt his dongsaeng tremble. He was quick to take a hold of the bucket when Seungmin was done, the boy’s energy spent, causing him to collapse back into his cushions. It was only when Chan had placed the bucket on the floor that he noticed the younger was full on crying and he gently brushed his sweaty hair out of his face, cooing: “Oh, Seungminnie.” – “’m sorry”, Seungmin whimpered hoarsely, “Wasn’t quick enough.” It took Chan a moment before he understood what the other was talking about. There was a wet stain on his blanket though it seemed that most had landed in the bucket.

Carefully folding the blanket up, Chan placed it on the floor and promised: “It’s okay, don’t worry, Min. Can you sit up for me?” Seungmin shook his head, tearily glancing up at Chan. The only reason he had managed to sit up was the adrenaline but now…. “Here, I’ll help you. You probably don’t want to drink right now?”, the leader hummed as he carefully sat Seungmin up by the shoulders. Shaking his head, the younger closed his eyes against the dizziness. Chan still steadied him by the shoulders and pulled the desk chair closer with his foot, explaining: “Your sheets are completely sweaty too, so I’ll help you move over to your desk chair and quickly change the sheet. With the way you look, you’re probably going to be bedbound for the next couple of days and you should at least be comfortable.”

Seungmin whimpered as he sat in the chair, the upright position not really helping. Chan had handed him the bin from under the desk, afraid the stench coming from the bucket would make him sick again. The leader made quick work of stripping the sheets and replacing them with fresh ones from Seungmin’s closet. When he was done, he carefully lifted the younger out of his seat and placed him back on his bed with the bin next to him. “Try to get comfy and I’ll be back in a moment”, Chan instructed, picking up the sweaty sheets, soiled blanket and bucket. While he started a wash load and rinsed out the bucket, Felix brought Seungmin the fluffy blanket from the couch, heart aching for his dongsaeng.

“Hyun-Bin hyungs will be here with some medicine soon”, Felix promised as he covered Seungmin with the blanket and rubbed his back through the soft material. Wiping his eyes to dry the tears, the younger sniffled: “I’m never eating out again.” – “That’s okay”, Minho chuckled sympathetically. They hadn’t heard the dancer appear in the doorway but Felix smiled when the older hummed: “I’ll gladly prepare homecooked meals for you if it means you’ll eat. We got soup and rice ready, so whenever you feel like you could handle a few bites, let us know.” – “Thanks”, Seungmin whimpered, still far to nauseous to stomach anything. Jeongin joined them with a cup and thermos bottle, whispering: “Your throat must be so painful, hyung. I restocked your tea because you said you ran out during our last vocal lesson.” – “I love you, maknae”, Seungmin slurred, making his friends gasp.

“We really need to worry now, Chan-hyung”, Minho frowned when the leader returned with the bucket. Nodding along, Jeongin explained: “Seungmin was nice and he said he loves me.” – “Oh, fuck off”, Seungmin groaned hoarsely, making the others laugh. “Guess everything’s fine after all”, Minho shrugged, turning to the door, “I’ll let Changbin and Hyunjin in when they get here and then you can take something to calm your stomach.” 

Seungmin kept dozing in short intervals with Chan tracing his back, while the others gave them some space. The medicine Changbin fed the younger helped some and Minho could even convince him to have a few bites of rice and a small scoop of soup before going back to sleep. Chan had been right, Seungmin was far to dizzy to get out of bed for the next few days, only spending a few hours a day on the couch when one of the members carried him there so he could get a change of scenery. Minho was able to nurse him back to health though, the vocalist’s trust in him probably being the only reason he let himself be talked into consuming anything at all.

Even after Seungmin recovered, he still preferred homecooked meals whenever he got the opportunity.

[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.

[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..

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“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.

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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!

[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.