#In another world we save her and everything is okay but NOT THIS ONE APPARENTLY

[highlifeboat]

FINALLY SOMEBODY ELSE TO MOURN LIN WITH! They did her so wrong man ;_; We *had time to save her* man!!

I SWEEEAAAR

I'VE NEVER SEEN HER DEATH SCENE BEFORE AND I AM JUST--SO UPSET??? Like I'm not someone who gets overly emotional with video games usually, but that shit HURTS? SO MUCH??

I wanna know how we got out of the trunk but then just left her ass. Like even if she was dead by that point why did we not at least get her body? (Maybe to maintain cover but if they already know Lin is a Saint who cares). Left my girl FLOATING IN THE RIVER.

ALSO FUUUCK the dude who kidnaps/kills her because he was WAY too creepy towards her. Like the way he talks to her makes me feel so eugh.

Just everything about her death is WILD and for WHAT? Just to kill the best female character in the game? WACK DECISIONS.

[mccoyquialisms]

More bits from the 1st night of the London D20 live show that brought me joy:

The little “ooooohhhhHHHH” bit everyone in the atrium did as they were rolling the bingo cages for their characters

How NUTS everyone went when Lou got Fabian and everyone started chanting “hoot growl”

A second, just as loud cheer when Siobhan got Adaine and her and Lou ran around the stage together

Siobhan, unprompted: “GIVE ADAINE A GUN!”

Emily has apparently named a stray cat after Plug <3

Sydney straight up eating the ground (it’s ice cream, she’s fine. Sort of.)

“It’s a smell so counter to everything human life needs, in a way that almost kills you, but also, only in a way someone from New York can understand, makes you proud.”

The party refusing to call the candy wyverns anything other than “bugs”

Zac interrupting the ongoing banter to announce Skip is already boarded and sucking on the saddle of the wyvern

“I throw a flash grenade.” “I turn into a giant pigeon.” “I cast unseen servant to untie him.” “I shoot a guard.” “Okay, so everyone decides to do something SUPER SUBTLE.”

I mentioned it before but it’s SO good: “the DC is 500. Only a Nat 20 will do it.” Beardsley: [rolls a Nat 20 first try] [pandemonium in the arena]

“Have you seen Succession?”

The gabagool 🤌

“Adaine, we have saved the world multiple times. These are the scariest people we have ever met.”

Lou losing it at Sydney’s grenade having 1 point of poison damage in addition to all the bludgeoning damage

Skip gives Fabian a laser gun. He does not know what it is until he shoots Calroy with it

“Adaine, this gun thing you’re on? I get it.”

Cocaine Bear

“I YEETED YOU!”

Pete and Skip instant besties. Pete and Fabian instant enemies.

“You named him Anus and now I just have to do it the rest of the show!”

“I absolutely hate to add insult to injury…” “THEN DON’T!”

Adaine passing her wisdom save by 1 point to prevent Kugrash’s polymorph spell from turning her into a rat

The absolute ROAR that went up when Skip transformed into Lapin

“Anus?” “Not today.” “Not today WHAT?”

“I thought I was just on another planet starting a revolution I don’t intend to stick around for.” “America!”

Ally confidentially declaring Lapin and Aguefort have swinger vibes

“Do you want to just take him?” “Do you mean in the biblical sense?” “Another exciting use….”

[croaky voice] butterfly in the skyyyy

Pete opening 6 different flavors of seltzer while the rest of the party does kublacaine

Elaine Lee in the house!!!

Kugrash the greatest chaperone who ever lived

Lapin and Aguefort…and they were roommates…..Lapin’s “how do I look?” before they go into the egg fortress lmao

Syd’s perfume missile dealing 68 points of damage to Fabian and instantly knocking him unconscious. “Are you rolling D20s for damage???”

“I’m going to use my tides of chaos to reroll….worse.”

Tina the butterfly familiar that everyone totally remembers

“Well shit, any house where we kill the people in it becomes our house.”

Pete dissing Fabian so hard he feels the toxic masculinity coming back

Lapin requesting an exam extension for Adaine and Fabian from Arthur via dating app

The collective psychic damage everyone took from the “yar har har” scene

“Pete just starts dancing with a scarf in a way no one else has seen before.” “That’s my fucking thing!!!”

Sydney just enabling every pvp encounter alsdkghsdg. Giving Fabian unlimited capacity to his gun as he’s shooting Pete, with Fabian hitting twice and criting once.

“I can pleasure you or throw grenades, you gotta pick one.” “The first one, obviously!” “Okay!”

Lapin, Adaine and Kugrash chain smoking in the corner suffering through the pain of existence while the rest of party goes nuts around them

Murph incorporating the words “come/coming” as much as possible into Kugrash’s farewell speech while Brennan mimes Gilear’s enormous dick behind him. Not even Fabian’s battle sheet is enough to conceal that hog

“That’s right, I’m the king. And then I jump into the dumpster.”

GILEAR…MY…..OLD FRIEND………Aguefort and Gilear fwb real

“Not another person with their penis frozen to the walk in!”

[klausinamarink]

The Only Sounds Are His Heart and Music

rating: T | cw: mentions of Vecna nightmares and near-death experience | wc: 893 | tags: established relationship, canon divergence, hurt/comfort | prompt: Love is the perfect mixtape/Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him

written for @steddielovemonth

-

Heavy silence filled the trailer, not even the barking of the neighbours' dogs or the rattling winds dared to break inside. It was as if all sounds from the outside world had been snuffed out, putting the residents into a solitary confinement room. It would've been unnerving if the Steve wasn't pressing his ear against Eddie's chest where his heart thudded loudly.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Eddie was still alive.

Steve swallowed another lump down his throat, wincing slightly as he did. When Eddie had gone white-eyed and later floated in the air, Steve screamed so loud out he nearly shredded his throat. He had no idea how much it hurt to speak until after the music worked and Wayne Munson demanded an explanation for his nephew's apparent possession that when Steve had tried to explain, barely a wheezing sob came out. Dustin and the other kids had taken over as storytellers of the Upside Down while Steve held a heaving Eddie in his hold.

Eddie was breathing normally now as if he was sleeping. But Steve knew from his tense body that Eddie was still wide awake. His fingers kept twitching from squeezing Steve's biceps to twisting the wires of his headphones where Dio's Hungry For Heaven blared out to gripping the blankets around them. It was close to his usual manic energy but more subdued. Terrified as if everything he touched was even real.

Whoever the hell this Vecna guy was, Steve was ready bash his brains out with his nail bat.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-babump.

Eddie's heartbeat stayed the same but Steve caught the moment it started to quicken. Steve squeezed his arms around Eddie's torso and nuzzled his face against the chest. He wanted to kiss his boyfriend so badly but Steve couldn't bare to let go and let the sound of his heart vanish from his functional ear.

He felt Eddie shuddering out a breath before his arms began to wrap around Steve's shoulders. Eddie sniffed and pressed his face on the top of Steve's head.

Nestled between them, Hungry For Heaven faded away but the Walkman kept whirring. And then, very clearly, Eddie My Love by The Chordettes started playing.

Steve blinked down at the Walkman with a mix of confusion and bubbling fear. He knew that Lucas was the one who managed to snagged the right tape to save Eddie during the panic, but for a terrifying moment, he wondered if Lucas made a mistake. "What the-"

He looked up when he heard Eddie snorting. For the first time since he had safely fell back to the ground, Eddie was cracking a smile. "I thought Vecna was going to snatch me again when that played after Dio. Turns out that it's my second favourite song." He lifted the Walkman up to the streams of the moonlight so Steve could peer closely at the cassette's label. His heart leapt up to his throat when he recognized the tiny heart doodles over his own handwriting.

Eddie's VERY METAL Mixtape

The whoosh of air escaping Steve's lips might've been a sigh or some poor attempt of a laugh. Either way, relief flowed from him, top to bottom. He dropped his head onto Eddie's chest again, almost headbutting the chin. "Jesus" he murmurs soft enough that it doesn't agitate his throat, "we should give Sinclair a fruit basket."

"A truck full of them. Freshly produced from sweet Alabama." Eddie adds cheekily.

They chuckle together before falling back to silence, barely accompanied by the faint vocals.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Steve waits for another minute before he breaks it with a quiet question, "Are you okay, Eds?"

It's a stupid question, but Steve just wanted to hear his honesty. No person can handle the massive guilt of letting Chrissy Cunningham go home after a little freakout over the drug she wanted, only for her body to be broken beyond recognition by an unseen force in front of her parents, or be tormented alone by painful headaches and nightmares before nearly dying, or the sudden revelation that your secret boyfriend and his little gaggle of kids have been fighting monsters of an alternate dimension for years.

Eddie gave out a drawn-out sigh before he answers, "Not really. Feeling like shit but I can't sleep."

The Chordettes come to a sweet end before being inappropriately followed up by Black Sabbath's Die Young. It made Steve shrivel on the inside. He wished he could pummel his past self for including that song in the tape. But if Eddie was bothered, he didn't show it. Still-

"You're going to fine." Steve whispers harshly. His face is close up to Eddie now, his hand pressing against the other man's heart. "As long as you keep listening to our tape, we're gonna figure out to kick Vecna's ass. You will live."

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Eddie's eyes glistened. Steve flipped the both of them over, careful not to crush the Walkman, allowing Eddie much more room to crawl further up and bury himself into Steve's tight embrace. Eddie's face pressed into Steve's neck, already soaking his skin with tears. It doesn't bother Steve at all. His hands rubbed his boyfriend's back in smoothing circles. Steve brought his mouth to Eddie's temple first before moving to his ear, quietly repeating "you will live" over and over.

Steve prayed for it to be true.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

interlude two

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: Another brief look into Bruce's mind...there will definitely be a couple more of these. And Bruce will get his own full chapter at the climax at the story. No I will not tell you more than that. Anyways thanks for the comments and feedback, they make me write faster!

Series Masterlist

word count: 1.1k

“I’m okay,” she said, but she wasn’t sure she was.

Bruce's POV

For most of the night, all of Bruce’s thoughts were some variation of oh fuck. 

First, it was because he was certain that at any moment, y/n would recognize him. That she would call him out on the mask, lying to her, everything. The more they talked, the more tightly wound he became. 

But at the same time, he…enjoyed it. She was more open with Batman than she was Bruce. Talking to each other like strangers erased their complicated, hurt-filled past in a way that was addicting. Bruce knew that the longer things went on, the worse it would be when she figured it out. 

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. 

Then, of course, the cursing in his mind changed the moment he realized she was in danger. That he had put her in danger by bringer her along. That panic was different, deeper, more crippling. 

Bruce thought he had known true fear.

He thought he had conquered fear. He had turned into an incarnation of it. 

But then, when Alfred was almost killed by the Riddler, all of that fear had come rushing back. 

And still it didn’t hold a candle to what he had felt when that man’s gun had been trained on y/n. Even with the Riddler terrorizing the city, even with Alfred almost dying, at least y/n had been safe in Bludhaven. 

Now that she was back in Gotham she was in danger. He had almost lost her. That fear was…unprecedented. It had nearly killed him, the sight of that gun pointed at her, the man’s intent to use it clear on his face. Like the world had stopped long enough to carve his lungs out of his chest. Long enough for him to imagine a world without her. 

Bruce didn’t care that his suit was bulletproof in those moments–he would have stepped in front of her anyways. 

The primal need to save her, to protect her, had been so strong he’d almost hit Gordon. And her new friend Martinez. He shot a glare to the man as he thought about the way he’d looked at y/n. Apparently, she texted him often. 

Bruce shifted his attention to y/n as Alfred hugged her, willing her to see him. To see him. To connect him to the Batman. He wanted her to know, even though it terrified him. Even though he didn’t know what she’d think, he suddenly ached for her to connect the pieces. After tonight, he didn’t want anything left between them. 

“I’m okay,” she said to Alfred, but he knew she wasn’t. He wished he could be the one to hold her. Batman might have been able to–she had seemed receptive enough to his touch in that alley. Leaned into it, even. But he knew it was because he hadn’t been himself. 

“Is there somewhere we can all talk?” Gordon asked. Alfred led them all into the sitting room, y/n trailing behind like a zombie. Bruce hesitated, wanting to stay back with her, imagined taking her hand and cupping her face to get a better look at the cut on her head in the light. 

Instead he sat as far away from her as he could, elbows on knees, hands clasped underneath his chin as he half-listened to ideas for security measures. 

He’d had to rush home to beat them there, to be able to change and wash his face and make it look like he’d been asleep. He’d explained, breathlessly, what happened to Alfred as the elevator rose to the top floor. They had barely stepped out of it when the other elevator opened. 

Alfred wanted to know, after asking if y/n was alright, if she had recognized him yet. 

Of course the answer was still no.

Alfred had sighed. Bruce heard their entire past arguments in that one sound. 

Two days before, when he’d gotten home, Alfred had been waiting. 

“She didn’t recognize me,” was the first thing Bruce said. A worry that was on both of their minds when Gordon had called. 

Alfred crossed his arms. He had left his cane leaning against a chair, too, likely to look more intimidating. 

“I know she didn’t, because she told me she was out with the Batman tonight.” Alfred’s foot tapped. “And if she had recognized you, I’m certain she would have come in with guns blazing, maybe even breathing fire.” 

Bruce paused. “...Right.” He wasn’t quite sure why Alfred was annoyed, then, if he knew y/n had been with him and hadn’t recognized him. Bruce started the ritual of shedding his armor while Alfred stewed. 

“The more time you spend with her, the worse it will be,” Alfred said after a long silence. “You know that, right?” 

Bruce shrugged but didn’t answer. 

“Why haven’t you told her?” 

“Because she hasn’t figured it out,” he said. He didn’t have any other good reason. Maybe because he liked spending time with her as two strangers. They had no past that way. Batman hadn’t broken her heart. Bruce had. She was easy with the vigilante, more open. More like herself than she was with Bruce. And Bruce missed her, the real her. Her humor, her smile, her laugh–things that only Batman got to see now. 

“Maybe she doesn’t want to,” he continued, voice soft as he placed the armor in its spot on a dummy. “Maybe I fucked her up so bad she can’t see me behind the mask.” 

Alfred’s silence was pointed. 

“This is the point where you’re supposed to argue,” Bruce said drily. 

“Nothing to argue with,” Alfred said, tone cold, and turned on his heel. 

Now, Alfred was giving him a pointed look across the sitting room. Bruce realized it had gone silent. Y/n was the only one not looking at him expectantly. A flush crawled up his neck at the sudden attention. 

“Sorry,” he said, but his voice was too low. Too close to Batman. He cleared his throat. “Not quite awake yet.” 

Y/n flinched. It was subtle, but it was still a flinch. Bruce’s eyebrows drew together as he wondered why she had reacted to strongly to his words. 

He had to tear his eyes away from her and refocus on the conversation about her security. Gordon said something about Bruce and Alfred being in danger, but the two of them exchanged a look, silently dismissing it out of hand. 

Bruce would do whatever it took to keep y/n safe. He had already taken four bullets for her, his chest aching, and he would take a thousand more, armor or no armor. 

She was safest in the tower with him, where he could keep her safe. Not that she knew it. Not that Gordon knew it either. 

But he and Alfred were her best bets. 

If only he could get her to stop running away from him.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard @miriamnox @mavenmoon @eclipsedplanet @spencerrxids @giulia2372 @katara-is-a-goddess-changemymind @janezat @incorrectmarvelquotesss

[handofmidas-writes]

I didn't hate season 4. Or the love triangle. Let me explain.

Okay. Listen. Listenlistenlisten.

I know everyone is pissed about season 4. I hear you. I get it. I don’t think anyone is thinking that this was a well-executed season. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

But hear me out.

The bones of the thing are good in principle. The arc makes sense at the heart of it. Again, hear me out.

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

The entire series is about saving the world by stopping the apocalypse. And as all the Fives in the deli have shown, the apocalypse is due to the Hargreeves siblings’ very existence. Reginald has fucked over every iteration of the kids to bring back his wife who died as a result of her own actions in creating marigold. He couldn’t give her up, and he was willing to rip universes apart to get her back. Five has tried time and time and time again to save his family, ad infinitum. He knows how to solve the problem, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Until this Five. They are, as we here on tumblr love to say, doomed by the narrative.

Five also says the universe loves balance. We saw this in season 3 with the kugelblitz. They were an impossibility in the universe and the kugelblitz formed to solve the problem by eliminating them. Impossibility for impossibility.

One of the Fives founded the Commission to solve the problem. It happens every time.

Abigail’s purpose through the whole season is to ensure the Cleanse, to reset the universe to the correct timeline. She shouldn’t be there. The kids shouldn’t be there. They are a direct result of Reginald releasing marigold into the world to enact his plan of resurrecting Abigail. The universe is trying to return to homeostasis, balance itself. And in every iteration, it needs to rid itself of the marigold, the substance that shouldn’t exist in the first place.

Ergo, the principle is sound, in my opinion.

The execution was shit, as I’m sure we all can agree.  I don’t like that they cease to exist, necessarily, and I think there were other avenues they could have taken to avoid that. But I can stomach it.

The shit storm is certainly in the characterizations. They did almost everyone dirty in some way or another. I think it could have been saved with a few more episodes, but we know that Netflix sucks like that and the season definitely suffered after the strike. I won’t be going into all of the characters just now since I’m apparently a loquacious bitch and don’t have the space. (And I know this is all being screamed into the void anyway. None of y’all will be reading any of this lol.)

Here’s where I’m going to ruffle feathers. I buy into the whole Diego/Lila/Five thing. And here’s why. (Cut here because this bitch got real long. Like 1.5k words long. Oops.)

The first episode is called “The Unbearable Tragedy of Getting What You Want.” Is it a slightly contrived Now That We’re Not Superheroes Our Normal Lives Kind Of Suck thing? Absolutely. Has it been overused in basically everything ever? You bet. Does it kind of work here? Yeah, actually.

These people legitimately don’t know what to do without powers. They’re coming fresh off the heels of trying and failing to save the world 3 different times. That takes adjustment. A lot of adjustment.

Lila and Diego fall into parenthood, which is a huge thing in and of itself. It’s not surprising that Diego turns into the stereotypical suburban dad, the breadwinner because that’s what he thinks his role should be. It doesn’t fully make sense that Lila turns into a housewife, but I can see her trying to throw Diego a bone and trying to make up for how she’s treated him in the past. Not to mention proving herself as a mother.

It makes sense for Lila to want to get out of the house and do her own thing, without her kids and her husband. It makes sense for Diego to resent his low level job when all he’s wanted to be is a badass and a hero.  Their frustration about their family life is understandable. Being a family is a lot of effort. There’s a loss of freedom when people become parents. And these are two headstrong people who have things to prove to themselves, to make sure they show up for their kids. Which leads to breakdowns in taking care of themselves and their relationship to each other.

Now, the sticky bit comes in with the whole love triangle. I know folks hate the subway subplot. Here’s the thing, despite how it was executed, it makes sense, too.

It’s an interesting way to portray the Many Worlds Theory and it’s plausible enough that Lila and Five connect in this way because of their shared knowledge of the Commission. It makes sense that they explore it together.

Which leads me to this: Five is incredibly lonely. He spent 40 years alone in an apocalypse and tried everything in his power to get back. He fell in love with a mannequin because she was the only thing keeping him tethered and sane-adjacent (sweet Dolores, we’ll never forget you, queen). He was desperate and alone and persisted because he had to.

He joined the Commission to try and stop said apocalypse and then inadvertently ended up in another. He’s tired of trying to save his family over and over and now he’s not sure there’s anything he can do to save them this time. And now here he is, stuck in the labyrinthine Subway of Fuckery with Lila and they can’t get out. Lila who has the same training as him, the same knowledge base, who went with him to the remnants of the Commission in season 3 and tried to save them all. Let’s call them frenemies, I guess.

And now here they are. Stuck together and feeling helpless. Enduring every fucking thing under the sun, watching each other’s backs, and they only have each other. And they’re tired. They’ve been searching for a way home for six fucking years. So, they decide to stop running and catch their breath. I won’t say it’s an inevitability, but Five is so lonely and scared. And Lila is lonely and scared and without her children. But they’re safe with each other, and they take comfort in each other, and it’s so easy to blur those lines.

So yeah, they end up together in the now infamous cottagecore greenhouse with the strawberries. And they try not to think about Diego. Is it right of them to do this? Well, no. But are people messy as hell? Yes. And are their actions understandable? Also yes.

So, to me, when Five finds the notebook and keeps it hidden from Lila, it tracks. Because he’s so fucking scared of what’s going to happen now. What if they still can’t make it back? What if they can’t save the world this time? What if it all comes down around his ears again? So he hides in easy domesticity and thinks about the solace they’ve found in each other.

And Lila, understandably, blows up when she realizes Five has hidden this from her. Because for her, this was a way to cope. To survive, as she says. She loves her children. And she loves Diego. She didn’t stop loving them. She couldn’t stop loving them. But she might just love Five, too. And isn’t that scary as hell?

People are many faceted, my friends. Does it make what she did morally right? Of course not. But does it make sense? I truly think it does.

The limited number of episodes is one of the largest contributors to the half-baked-ness of it all. There’s not enough time to flesh out a proper resolution to the whole thing. Which led to Diego’s hunch from episode 2 of Lila cheating with Greek guy/Five accidentally being correct foreshadowing. Which then resulted in a heavy confession from Lila in front of the entire family (which I was digging, just like the siblings, tbh). And then the boys started throwing punches and the whole love triangle thing went completely down the shitter (a dubious and debatable statement, I know).

So, that leaves us with Lila who is now in the middle of two brothers. Said brothers are now physically fighting out bad blood and pent up frustration. And only part of it is due to Lila.

Diego’s character is criminally underdeveloped. He was always halfway between the underdog and class clown and his characterization in this season falls spectacularly flat in all aspects. He’s a character who has fought to prove himself over and over again, and is still trying to do that here, but nothing really lands. Diego and Luther are comic relief mostly. And Diego’s role, unfortunately, ended up being a stick in the spokes of a sloppy love triangle and pretty much nothing else.

Five is obviously the favorite in Blackman’s eyes. Five is knowledgeable. Five always has an idea. Five is the one the family looks to for answers, more often than not. Five is the one who almost always opts to save his family in some way, shape, or form. And this has resulted in Five being sad and helpless, in a way. He has been building this emotional bomb for decades and across timelines without any real release or acknowledgement. So Blackman chose to have Five get his emotional release in the form of “a love story” with Lila. Doing it this way, with the limited number of episodes, left Diego’s part woefully inadequate.

No resolution really takes place here. Diego kind of “wins” insofar as he convinces Lila to take their family to the subway and she takes his hand first when they all say goodbye. Five gets the teary “I hate you for this,” after she ends up choosing self-sacrifice with the others, which we know means “I am so incredibly sad and I hate that you told us the truth because it means everything ends for real this time and I’ve had to let my family go.” Then she holds his hand, too, showing that all is forgiven, here at the end of all things.

There’s definitely not a resolution for Diego, and it can certainly be inferred that he still pretty much hates Five’s guts. I get the feeling that Five is just resigned to finally ending the cycle. He knows he’s hurt Diego badly and I think he does feel bad for it, but it’s not translated into the final scene, which leaves the whole situationship hollow and earned it the well deserved hate for hilariously poor execution.

So that’s it, friends. That’s my unpopular opinion and way too many words justifying it. I surprisingly have more I could blather on about, but I’ll spare y’all from including any more in this post. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

And for a final palate cleanser for those of you who do not care about any of this: I think we deserve a side plot of Five and Derek the Twink from the CIA. The true OTP. (Also Brisket Five, who is the real MVP.)

[christinesficrecs]

hello chrissy poo! please save me and recommend me some accidental baby acquisition fics. thank youuu

Accidental babies are my favorite! 🩷

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter | 51.9K | Mature

Stiles finds a baby on the porch.

It looks exactly like him.

Well, this is awkward.

Foxglove Eyes by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle | 47.8K | Explicit

Stiles didn't know how long the woman had him collared and working for her. (See forcing him to be a magical slave.) But he knows when he finally gets the collar free, it's the same night the compound is raided by wolves. Somehow, he ends up with them, and, in the process, becomes the adoptive father to a baby werewolf that seems to hate everyone else. Oh, well, worse things have happened.

You And Me (Baby Makes Three) by clotpolesonly | 5.4K

Pulling out his phone, Stiles said, “I’m sure dad’ll be thrilled to be woken up at two in the morning for an off the books amber alert, but he’ll suck it up.”

He’d only taken a few steps away before Derek said his name. Stiles turned back to see one of those little grabbing hands reaching out for him. Her eyes were brown, apparently, when they weren’t glowing, and they were wide and wet and looking up at him beseechingly from Derek’s arms, and Stiles couldn’t walk away from that.

“Oh, jeez.”

He was so screwed.

He’s Not Mine by Sunnee | 68.5K | Explicit

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Bundle of Accidental Joy by tearsandholdme | 69.9K | Mature

Stiles is just trying to live a simple life. Have a job, pay his rent, and survive enough to eat his next meal. But then he's fired from his job, watches a mother abandon her baby, tries to stop her and picks the baby up, and now everyone thinks the baby is his. Even his very handsome and moody boss, Derek Hale, who forces the responsibility onto him at the cost of keeping his job or else.

Reasonable to Assume by  Saucery | 32,476 | dropbox link

“You’re a werewolf! He’s a werebaby! How can you not know what to do with him?”

Didn’t See That Coming by  knittersrevolt | 83,838

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in the dust after he catches his husband cheating on him.

He finds his way to New York where he starts working for the Hale House Nursery, accidentally adopts a werewolf baby (through no fault of his own thank-you-very-much), and somehow starts training to be an Exorcist Emissary. So, in general, life was going good.

Then he hears that demons have found their way into his hometown. Can he face his inner demons and go back to save the day?

The Littlest Alpha by  triedunture | 52.5K | dropbox

Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride.

But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”

The One Where They Adopt a Selkie by mikkimouse | 7.7K

“That’s a kid,” Stiles said.

Derek growled. “It’s a selkie.”

“It’s a selkie kid,” Stiles pointed out, because really, they did not need to be arguing semantics right now. “Do selkies just go around leaving their kids sleeping in caves on the beach?”

Everything With You by ElStark | 9.2K | Explicit

“What’s going on?” Derek asked.

Scott shook his head, “You need to see.”

“Would you stop with the fucking mystery and just tell us already?” Stiles snapped at him.

“We found a baby,” Scott relented, starting to half jog towards the opposite line of trees they had been standing in front of.

3 Idiots and a Baby by WithMyTeeth (Ylith) | 42.1K | Explicit

One little abandoned Were-baby changes everything.

What to expect when you aren’t expecting by MemeKon | 16.9K

The baby is warm and small and she’s all wrinkled and frowny, bow lips somewhat pursed and pouty. Stiles’ palms feel cold and sweaty against the blanket enfolding her as he holds her tight to his chest.

“What do you mean she turned up out of nowhere?” Derek asks, frowning at him, hand twitching above the baby’s head, as if he wasn’t sure touching her wouldn’t make her disintegrate into nothingness. Stiles rolls his eyes at him and bounces on the balls of his feet when the baby squirms.

[thezombieprostitute]

Unwanted - Part 3

Summary: Your life is no longer yours. You've been forced into becoming a different species of human. Bought and paid for, what can you do but follow orders and obey your Alpha?

Warnings: Allusions to surgery, human trafficking, kidnapping; Angst; Depression; Suicidal thoughts. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is described as big & tall, is female. No other descriptors required.

Part 2

Unfortunately, upon landing, you found it was another empty promise from Ari. Instead of a meet and greet, like you expected, you were escorted into what looked like an interrogation room, but slightly less scary. Ari sends Johnny to get you some water while he sets up a recorder and notebook.

"We need to get some information from you," he tells you flatly. "You have inside knowledge of Hansen and Kemp's operation that we can use to save others. So please tell me everything that happened. Spare no detail." You give him a pained look and he sighs. "I know you've been through a lot, and not just today. But this information could save a lot of other lives from having to go through what you did. Or at least save them from being tortured to death by the process."

"For someone who smells like fire you can be ice cold," you snap at him.

"I'm trying to save people," he growls.

"By fucking things up for others," you snarl. "I was kidnapped off the street, a bag thrown over my head, by the man you called Hansen. I know because I recognized his voice earlier today. He had a lot of not-so-nice things to say about me and my body. But that's nothing compared to what happened when he gave me to Dr. Kemp. It was operation after operation after operation. My body didn't always have time to heal between them! I was in pain all the time! I was crying for someone, anyone to come help me and I'd just get laughed at by him! I couldn't breathe, couldn't stop hurting, couldn't...I couldn't..." you collapse into a ball on the floor, gently rocking and holding yourself like you did in your cell. Your world turns dark as you pass out.

You wake up wrapped in the arms of a woman with red hair and green eyes. Her scent makes you think of a river, slowly, but successfully, changing the environment around it by always moving. It's oddly comforting, but that could also be the fact that you're being held. In the background you're vaguely aware of a shouting match.

You try to lift your head to get a better sense of things but the woman gently places her palm on your forehead, "it's okay. You've been through a lot. More than you should have. Just get some rest for now."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Nat," she smiles. "I'm the lead Omega, for lack of a better term. I'm responsible for all the Omegas in the community, yourself included. You were supposed to be brought directly to me but apparently Ari didn't want to wait for you to catch your breath before pushing you too far." She looks towards the shouting match and you can hear a small growl in her voice. "Thankfully Johnny let us know what was going on and Steve, my Alpha, and the Pack Alpha, is putting Ari in his place."

"I think I understood what you're saying..."

She smiles at you again, "don't worry. We'll get you properly taken care of and the social aspects can be learned later. Right now, we gotta focus on your well-being. Do you think you can stand up? Walk with me to the kitchen area? If not, we can either keep laying here or I can get someone to carry you there."

You snort, "no one can carry me so easily." She makes a noise and shrugs her shoulders in a way that indicates it might not be so clear cut. "Do I actually have a choice in this?"

"Of course you do," she affirms. "You will always have a say in what happens to you."

Tears start pouring again, "I think I just want to be held for a while longer. If that's okay."

"I wouldn't have offered if it wasn't okay," she assures as she gives you a gentle squeeze.

Part 2

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly; @startcarvingdarling

[sky-kenobye]

Fic idea that I've been obsessing over in the last couple of days:

TLDR: Obi-Wan gets dumped on his wedding day, Anakin suggests they get married instead to save Obi-Wan the humiliation (and money), he agrees, they get married and nobody realises the stunt they pulled (except for the few people they told), and they both realise that actually it's great to be married to each other and that they wouldn't have it any other way, and probably get their happily ever after.

(A lot more details under the cut for those who are interested!)

Obi-Wan is getting married to someone (I was thinking Satine at first but I don't want to bash on her just because she's in the way of my ship so let's say an original character 🤷), Anakin is his best man, and it's a kinda big and traditional wedding and they did the 'you can't see your bride until the ceremony' stuff, so Obi-Wan is already at the city hall(?), while the bride will be coming later, just before the start of the ceremony.

It's less than an hour before the start and some early guests are already getting there. One of the bride's guest (Padmé?) is arriving when she gets a phone call from the bride, telling her that the wedding is canceled, sorry for calling at the last minute but she had to call all the guests and she was the last one. At the same time Anakin is coming out of the building for whatever reason and Padmé is like 'wdym it's canceled? The best man is here, and I can see other guests!'. The bride kinda panicks and hangs up, and Padmé flags Anakin down to ask what's going on.

He's also baffled because Obi-Wan didn't say it was cancelled, he's ready to get married and everything and he saw him about 10 seconds ago. They try to call the bride back but she doesn't answer, then they try to call another guest of the bride that Padmé knows. She answers and they learn that apparently the bride called in the morning and said that Obi-Wan had cancelled the wedding and dumped her at the last minute and they were each calling their half of the guests to tell them not to show up (which is clearly a bunch of lies from the bride).

They go and explain all of this to Obi-Wan who's confused and angry and heartbroken. He manages to get on the phone with the bride who properly dumps him, and by that time there's very little time before the ceremony was supposed to start. Most of the (Obi-Wan's) guests are there, and it's kind of (very) humiliating to have to go in front of all these people that he knows and tell them "wedding cancelled, I've been dumped, you can go home", and on top of that it wasn't a super cheap wedding so that sucks, and the catering is already ready so he'll have to throw away a ton of food? Not a great situation.

So Anakin has an idea: what if they get married instead? It's crazy so Obi-Wan tries to argue against it:

We can't get fake married! Then let's get real married!

People will still know I've been dumped and I'm pathetically trying to save face! None of the bride's guests will be there so i doubt it.

It was still her name on the wedding announcement. Okay then, maybe she dumped you like idk a month ago and I took the opportunity to declare my secret love for you!

And we got married less than a month later? It's hard and expensive as shit to cancel a wedding on such a short notice so we took the opportunity! It's not so unrealistic for me and I could probably convince you to do it.

But then we'll be married. Yeah, so? There are worst things in the world.

Obi-Wan is skeptical but not saying no yet, and Padmé is like 'honestly coming from anybody else I'd think they lost it, but from you two? I can see it. Not even sure I'd be all that surprised tbh'.

Obi-Wan's not having a great time and getting married to Anakin sounds a thousand times better than telling people what actually happened so he says fuck it let's do it.

They form a quick battle plan: Obi-Wan will go talk to the officiant to change the bride's name to anakin's (is it legally possible in any country? Probably not but let's pretend it is and that the marriage is still valid), Anakin will find them new best men/women (probably quinlan for obi-wan and ahsoka for anakin? Or padmé since she's already in the loop) and brief them on the situation, and Padmé will find a ring that fits Anakin (she borrows one of the guest's, maybe Owen Lars'?).

Only a few minutes late, they come out in front of all the guests, do a quick speech explaining the unexpected change (with a few lies of course), and the ceremony begins. Everything goes smoothly, Obi-Wan improvises very moving (and actually 100% honest) wedding vows, Anakin is crying and forgot they needed wedding vows but manages to put a few sentences together which are equally as honest as Obi-Wan's and make people cry too (they think he forgot his vows because of the emotion). They put the rings on each other, kiss and all of that, and when they leave the building they're both beaming so wide that it doesn't occur to anybody to be suspicious, the grooms look so happy and in love!

Then it's time for the reception and everybody has a great time, the grooms have a very sweet first dance, and they're all over each other the entire evening, how adorable! And if they disappear for a little while (Obi-Wan may be happy to get married to Anakin but he still just got dumped, so he may want to have a few minutes to breath in a quiet corner and get a good hug) then everybody assumes they're making out in a closet or something. Owen laughs at them for forgetting the rings (which is what he assumes is the reason they needed his ring), and they get a lot of friendly ribbing for 'keeping their wedding a secret' from pretty much everybody.

And maybe after a few drink they do really disappear to make out and decide that marrying your best friend that you've always kind of been into without ever admitting it is pretty amazing actually.

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 6!!

Not much to say here this time. I'm glad you all are enjoying this. I'm having a blast! :D

Beginning || Previous || Next

*****************

After a while you speak.

“Well,” You say, “I can tell you what we’re not doing. We are not going to see Mr. Gaiman. Honestly, Crowley, the man is a genius, but he is also a troll. He doesn’t give away plot – if anything he gives the most chaotic response he can think of, and then tells you to wait and see. SO, that wouldn’t help us at all.”

Muriel is the next to speak.

“Um, also I don’t think those other angels are on earth?”

“Would we know if they were?” You say, looking to Aziraphale. The principality shrugs.

“To be honest, I really don’t know. It was such a long time ago.”

“Okay,” You say, “So we call up Anathema, and we go to America to look for Jesus. I mean...the things that Neil and Terry plotted out did happen, even if they weren’t all identical to the book. So it’s probably safe to assume that the pattern will continue.”

“Right,” Aziraphale says, reaching for his rotary phone, “I’ll call Miss Device.”

“Hold on,” Crowley says, “Who’s this we who’s going to America?”

“You, Aziraphale, Anathema, Me,” You say, “Muriel needs to stay here and look after the bookshop. Maybe Newt could --”

“And what makes you think you’re coming?” The demon presses.

“The fact that I dropped in from another reality, know everything that has happened so far, and is the only one with half an idea of what’s going to happen next. Also Anathema is going to need help wrangling the two of you.”

“Whassat supposed to mean?”

“You’re a pair of Disaster Puppies.”

Crowley opens his mouth again, offended.

“Trouble does seem to find us an awful lot,” Aziraphale says. Clearly he’s decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. You make a mental note that he is not upset with being called a Disaster Puppy for some reason. Priorities maybe?? You let it go.

“Great,” You say, “So it’s settled.”

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

All things considered, it doesn’t take very long for Anathema and Newt to arrive. Apparently they happened to be visiting London. What are the chances of that? It’s almost like this is a work of fiction that I am writing and so I can make things surprisingly convenient if I want to. Now, let’s continue.

It takes longer to answer Newt’s questions than it does to fill Anathema in on the situation. You’re grateful for her sharp mind and willingness to accept things that are...well...difficult to just accept. Probably comes with being a witch/occultist. Once they both know the full story, and Newt’s curiosities are satisfied, Anathema nods.

“Okay,” she says, “Right. So we need to save the world again, and we’re hinging all of our bets on finding Jesus and successfully convincing him to help us? Seems...like a long shot. Like, a really long shot.”

“These two have managed to succeed with implausible plans before,” You point out. Anathema hums. She doesn’t seem convinced.

“I mean, it’s not that I mind helping you. Jesus probably has the kind of aura that I could find and track without too much trouble. I would just...really have appreciated that if you were going to interrupt our getaway that you would at least have a backup plan. Or, maybe some intel that’s actually intelligence instead of guesses. Like if Aziraphale had actually been in Heaven as the Supreme Archangel, he could have been feeding us information and instructions. And then we would know for sure where to go and what to do.”

Oh. A rock sinks to your stomach. And you suppose that after making them ward the bookshop like that then...needing to leave it...you just might have accidentally put a target on your backs. Whoops. Turns out saving the world one step at a time is really, really hard.

“That would have been way too dangerous though!” You say, desperate for your own defense, “I’m not putting these two in anymore danger than absolutely necessary. I….” You look over at your beloved angel and demon, then turn back to Anathema. “I need them to be okay,” You admit quietly. That’s what it’s all about for us, isn’t it? All the theories, all of the South Down Cottage manifesting. The fanart, the fanfiction, the edits and animatics. We love them and while we understand that they need to go through angsty things to grow, in the end we need them to be okay.

Well, most of us anyway. I can’t speak for everyone.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Aziraphale is there once again.

“And we will be,” he says softly. You hear Anathema sigh.

“Right,” she says, “okay, so we head to America. I need to go home first and get my supplies. Newt will stay here with Muriel and help them hold the fort.”

“Um...this is a bookshop?” Muriel adds uncertainly.

“I bet,” Newt says slowly, “That if I help a few people around here with their computers, I might make enough mischief to convince Heaven that there’s still a demon around here. Then that looks almost like you’re still here, right? Might buy you some time at least.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Anathema says. Muriel practically glows.

“Oh! I get to live with an actual human! You can teach me human things!”

“Oh, uh yeah,” Newt says, “I don’t see why not. It’ll be fun.”

Anathema agrees to return with Newt in two days. She expects you lot to sort out the plane tickets “Because,” she says, “I am not having you fly me over, or poof me over, or whatever it is that you do.”

“I am a demon! I do not poof!”

“I don’t care. I want plane tickets.”

“Ooh!” You say, raising your arm in the air with a jump. “Can they be first class? I’ve never flown first class before!”

Crowley groans. Aziraphale sighs.

“We are not genies,” Aziraphale says, “Or banking machines.”

“No, but you do have unlimited resources so in a way,” You say, pausing for dramatic effect, a mischievous smile spreading from ear to ear, “You are like Santa Claus!”

You make a fast exit from the room before Aziraphale can say anything. Crowley is laughing and you hear what you think is a chair falling over.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

[cookies-and-music]

Ghost. - part 13: Lost Boy

My suggestion for this chapter is Lovely by Billie Eilish, who, apparently, fits perfectly into this fanfic.

Part 1 here - part 14 here

PAIRING: TVA!LokixOC

RATING: ALL

TAG LIST: @kats72 ; @mischief2sarawr

SUMMARY: Loki meets sombody at the TVA he once knew. Unfortunately she doesn't seem to remember him.

Midgard, 1994

Lydia was in the scientist's study, or perhaps it was some sort of laboratory, in 1994. Soon, the room filled with people. Her friends, as Loki had called them.

Apparently, the woman, the doctor, was the one she trained with at the TVA gym, and she had engaged in a friendly competition with the jet ski salesman, who was also an analyst, whatever that meant, on who could solve more cases in the same amount of time.

Lydia had never seen them before and Loki's stories were just that. Someone else's stories.

"So, you're some kind of cop?" the man asked her.

"More of a secret agent" she replied.

"How secret can it be if you're telling us?" the scientist/writer asked.

"Forget it," Loki emerged from a time door, interrupting the conversation. "It's better if you go back home."

Lydia exchanged a confused glance with the doctor.

"What do you mean, forget it?" the woman asked.

"You need to go back home, I was wrong," he sighed.

"No, wait" the jet ski salesman interjected "First, you tell us the fate of the world depends on us, and then... nothing?"

"I'm sorry, I was wrong, I just…" Loki glanced at Lydia, it lasted only a moment before he lowered his head, shaking it "wanted things to go differently. You need to go back to your place, it's right this way."

"No, it's not." A blonde figure emerged from a time door.

"Sylvie…" Loki widened his eyes.

"The branches are dying. If we don't hurry, there might not be a home to return to, for any of you."

Lydia observed her, but she wasn't familiar either. She sighed, feeling her fingers tingling, she looked down but didn't see her fingers, just filaments.

"Loki" she managed to call and gave him a terrified look before disappearing.

Loki saw that scene three times before he got a hold of his abilities and went back in time. And back to the TVA.

Several centuries later.

Loki watched with tears in his eyes as Timely managed to load and send the range multiplier onto the frame. Loki cheered for a moment before the frame collapsed again. It was the billionth time he had tried. He glanced at Lydia, who had a mournful face, it was the billionth time he had seen that too. He thought back to what she had said to Sylvie when they had argued. Lydia was right, it all started with the death of He Who Remains; that moment had marked their destiny.

Loki went there and spent several years there. It took a long time before he could truly talk to He Who Remains, and when he did, he realized that everything, everything, had been a waste of time.

He was tired, disheartened. He had to find another way to fix everything but was starting to run out of ideas. He had promised Lydia that he would find a solution, for centuries he had clung to that promise because finding a solution would mean saving her life and all his friends'. But he was wavering. The loneliness he felt was destroying him.

Midgard, 2073. Temporal Branch 39,618

The house was empty at that moment, but someone, many people, surely lived there. He climbed the stairs and went to the only lit room. There lay an old woman in a bed, under layers of blankets.

"Did you remember my coffee, Liam?" The old lady turned to him.

"I'm afraid not, I'm sorry" Loki said to announce himself.

"Well, what are you doing at the door? Come in."

Loki took a few hesitant steps towards her, who pointed to the chair near the bed. Loki sat down and looked around. The bedside table was full of medicines, and there were a couple of oxygen tanks in a corner.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm eighty-seven, dear, it's already strange that I'm still breathing" she tried to laugh, but the laughter quickly turned into a cough.

He kept his gaze low.

"You seem lost," the woman observed.

"I think… I am" Loki looked at her thin arms and knotted hands resting on the blankets.

She looked at him with the tenderest look Loki had ever seen.

"You know, young man, you remind me of someone" she began "He too was very lost when I met him and had a truly terrible character" She managed to drag Loki into a little chuckle, but seeing how she suffered through the laugh, Loki's eyes immediately saddened.

"He had mournful eyes, just like yours, and I fell in love with him. Not right away, but for a lifetime."

"Where is he now?" Loki asked as his eyes moistened.

"Oh, he's very special, you see, he doesn't age like me, and he doesn't have time to deal with a dotty old lady."

"He should be here" Loki lowered his gaze.

"Oh, no," the old lady covered his hand with her knotty one "he must protect the world, I would never want him to be here watching me wither away. I've had a good life, I've saved the world many, perhaps too many times, and I've had a family."

"But you're alone" tears filled his eyes.

"You're here."

A few tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Why are you crying, boy?"

"I don't want to be alone, Lydia" he said with a broken voice, wiping his face with his hand.

"My dear, you needn't worry about that" she squeezed his hand with the little strength she had "you have great power. You're altruistic, generous, and kind. And good people never stay alone; they just have to trust others and welcome them into their hearts."

"What should I do?" he said, sniffing and taking a breath, trying to calm down.

"Oh, I don't know about that, but I know you'll figure it out, and when you do, just remember one thing: you must not be afraid. You are very loved, and when you are loved, there is nothing to fear, Loki. Love gives us courage." She laughed lightly between coughs as she transformed into filaments between his fingers.

FINALLY I GOT BACK! Soo... sad ain't we? Well, this last part was written way before the hole chapter, it was so clear in my mind and so teary, unfortunately. Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list. Next chapter will be the last related to canon events, but the ff is not over. We have around 6 more chapters. A special thank you to @mischief2sarawr who's a lovely supporter and also added me to their public reading list. Check out their blog for amazing reading suggestions!

Cheers everyone.

[josefavomjaaga]

Ida meets Ney in Russia

I dimly remember that somebody (Cadmus?) mentioned they wanted to read more from Ida. So here’s a brief snippet of Ida – for once – getting in trouble with her hero, of Ney scolding her and … being jealous of Eugène?

The meeting takes place somewhen in late 1812 or early 1813, as much as it’s possible to tell from Ida’s chronological rollercoaster ride. In any case, after or at the end of the Russian retreat. Because of course Ida had joined the Russian campaign as well.

And not only she. If any tumblerinas here plan on learning how to time travel and want to go back to see the Grande Armée march towards Moscow, they don’t need to worry about incognitos. Most likely they would barely be noticed, as apparently there were wagonloads of groupies following their heroes around.

Okay: four. But that’s only those ladies Ida travelled with. Plus, two of them died on the way back.

Ida was particularly fond of a Polish-Lithuanian girl named Nidia, as madly in love with general Montbrun as Ida was in love with Ney. Not that either of the two got to see their idol much during the march. As a matter of fact, the first thing Nidia learned before entering Moscow was that Montbrun had been killed at the battle of Borodino. Other than that, Ida claims to have had a bad feeling about this city from the start:

As we entered Moscow, occupied at last by our troops, this immense city seemed to us like a vast tomb; its empty streets, deserted buildings and solemnity of destruction were heartbreaking. Despite the pomp of victory, I felt struck by I don't know what new kind of melancholy when I saw it; the flags seemed to me gloomy and almost surrounded by funeral crêpes and black forebodings. We were staying in Rue Saint-Pétersbourg, near the Miomonoff palace, which was soon occupied by Prince Eugène. The sight of this young hero and the cheers of the soldiers, who adored him, gave us back all the illusions of victory.

Okay, so I just added this because it’s so rare to see Eugène receive some praise. (I should also mention that the adored young hero was growing bald at an alarming rate and that his bad teeth were killing him.)

As a matter of fact, Ida claims that Nidia was especially interested in Eugène because he was rumoured to maybe become king of Poland (yes, another candidate). These rumours did really exist, Eugène mentions them in a letter to his wife before the campaign started. (And he also makes it pretty clear that these are just rumours and that he has not the slightest ambition to stay in this country. He may have used different vocabulary than Lannes but he didn’t like the region any better.)

The following night, Ida and Nidia wake up to a burning Moscow and are saved by soldiers of 4th corps. On the retreat, they seem to have followed headquarters as closely as possible, which was their safest bet to stay alive (because where the emperor is, there’s food and firewood and a resemblance of order) but still witness horrible tragedies. After the crossing of the Berezina, they apparently followed the remnants of Eugène’s 4th corps to Marienwerder, before Nidia says goodbye and goes back to defending Poland.

But before, on the way, at Valutina (?), Ida finally sees Ney again

At this point, after the retreat, Ida at least starts to question her decision to follow the Grande Armée around. Or something like that.

I have just recounted my fatigue, my difficulties and my perils in a war beyond human endurance, because of the new aspects it seemed to give to destruction and death. A powerful feeling made me undertake everything and endure everything. Why was I going to face the hazards of a campaign? Why was I going to expose the weakness of a woman to the rigours of a climate of iron? In order to obtain yet another glance from the one whose smile had always paid me for my military errands. This look was always like a world offered to my hopes; the dream alone of this reward had made possible all the impossibilities of time, distance, sex and fortune. My life was thus burnt for a few hours, still uncertain. I was giving up everything for a moment in space. Alas! this time, how I was going to regret this moment that had cost me so much to conquer! I had just gambled my existence for a flash of happiness, and this flash, the quickest of my life, became the cruelest.

I had to spend three fatal hours in a miserable shack on the outskirts of Volutina. My dress was so horrible that it was a real disguise. In a person dressed like that, one could hardly suspect a woman. Ney, however, only had to look my way to recognise me. To have been seen was enough to have been discovered. I was about to rush to the front of this first happiness; I was about to testify to the soul of my life how proud I was of this divination of friendship, of this perspicacity of memory, when words of an energy which was far from that of the feeling of which I was possessed, intimated to me the order of the most positive dismissal: "What are you doing here? What do you want? Go away quickly." With this address and a few short, curt rebukes about my reckless rage and my fury at following him everywhere, I only had the strength to reply: "It is a rage, indeed, but it is not at least the rage of pleasure or vanity," pointing to my coarse clothes and my face burnt by the sun and faded by fatigue. He took no notice of either the harangue or the costume. He was off and running. His displeasure at seeing me there was so great; he let it out so vividly that I thought he was going to push me back to the opposite bank of the Dniéper in his anger. Stunned by the reception, struck by lightning, I remained motionless for more than an hour, staring at him, thinking I saw him; he had disappeared without paying any more attention to me or worrying about me.

From which we can deduct that Ney was not a reader of Jane Austen novels. Otherwise he would have known that whenever you have behaved in a way that made a woman fall in love with you that’s f-ing your fault, monsieur!

In 1813, when I recalled to Marshal Ney this scene of such violent fury, followed by such cruel silence and abandonment, he told me that he had been so mortally frightened by the extravagance which had pushed me into the midst of so many perils and the licentiousness of an army, that he had even been tempted to beat me. Truth requires me to admit that the temptation had been so strong that he had, I believe, yielded to it a little; it was without his knowing it, for the great passions know neither all they want nor all they do. Anger is therefore still love, since it is as blind as fury.

Girl, get help. Seriously.

When we crossed the Dniéper at Serokodia, I could have had another word with him. A new laurel had just hidden his wrongs and healed my wound. I could have, I wanted to say to him: You have just added to your immortal glory here; you alone have just saved Frenchmen lost in deserts of ice; I would have liked to express to him what all parties repeat today, what posterity will proclaim on the ashes of the brave... But I stuck to the joy of hearing the distant cheers. There was then a little fear in my delirium for him, and I almost have the idea that I idolised him even more by fearing him in that way…

Did I mention the thing about getting help?

Yes, even the reproach was appreciated by my heart, and still seemed to me a tender interest. I found I don't know what pleasure in hearing myself scolded later for my association with Nidia, my marches and counter-marches with the Viceroy's troops. No matter how many times I told the Marshal that Eugène's protection had been focused exclusively on the young Lithuanian girl, and that I had slipped unnoticed into this benevolence, he took it into his head to believe nothing of these sincere protestations. To make him reconsider such a strongly conceived idea would have meant exposing myself to a repeat of the Dniéper order and military correction. I had no intention of trying the same pleasure twice. Finally, he saw the evidence of my attachment, and he found the generosity to prove this belated but strong conviction to me [...]

By calling her his brother-in-arms, by the way. And this, I believe, really meant a lot to Ida.

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Child Care

Jeff snorted. “Okay, so you saved the day, and they took you in like a stray dog. So what do you do?”

“What do I do? I do plenty! I plan out their away missions, oversee maintenance of the complex, sorted out how to defend against solar flares and radiation damage, and …” Lee trailed off, his face reddening.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “And?” he prompted.

Lee’s drink was apparently the most fascinating thing in the world. He mumbled something softly.

“Uh, Lee?” He looked up. Jeff pointed at his ear. “These don’t work so good anymore. What ya say?”

His face bright red, and unable to look his friend in the face, Lee muttered, “Help look after the kids.”

The was a long silence.

“You … help …” Jeff said slowly, his voice sounding strangled. “… look after … kids?”

“Yeah.”

“Human … kids … not … … goats?”

“Yeah.”

Jeff Tracy laughed.

It started out as a belly laugh, and gradually morphed into near hysterics, as tears rolled down Jeff’s face, and he was forced to double over, clutching his chest and belly as muscles long unaccustomed to this activity protested vehemently.

The sound drew attention, and pretty soon the rest of the island’s occupants were edging closer, alarmedly considering the need for a medical evac, and trying to determine symptoms.

Gradually, the laughter subsided into hiccoughs. And Jeff lay limp on his sun lounger, panting to regain his breath and manage the pain.

Lee sat rigid, staring at the horizon, the picture of dignified bearing of wounded pride.

“Ya finished?” Lee asked gruffly, when his friend finally fell into silence.

“Yep.” A stray giggle betrayed the lie.

“Um … everything all right?” It was Scott who found his voice first.

“All good boys. Lee here was just filling me in on what exactly,” another giggle, “it is he does with the colony on Mars.”

“Oh-kay.” Scott looked back at his family for assistance.

Grandma spoke up. “So what is it you do, then, Lee?”

Lee sighed. “I oversee authorised,” he eyed Virgil and Alan, “expeditions. I help ‘em with the maintenance, sorted out their long term problems with solar flares and the like, and I help look after –” he eyed Jeff “– the kids.”

Jeff snorted a laugh, but with effort managed to restrain himself.

His family was mystified.

All but one.

Grandma smiled widely, “Well, I guess those kids don’t have much in the way of art supplies.”

Jeff gave a strangled howl, before giving into a fresh round of laughter, as Lee leapt to his feet, and pointed an accusing finger at a startled Virgil.

“This is all your fault!”

Virgil stared. “Me! How …?!”

Lee glared back at Jeff, before continuing in a high-pitched sing-song voice, “‘Uncle Lee, can I paint the baby?’” His voice dropped back to its normal, albeit indignant, register. “How the hell was I supposed to know you didn’t mean you wanted to paint a picture of the baby?”

Gordon and Alan glared suspiciously at Virgil, who was looking sheepish even though he clearly didn’t remember the incident referred to, as everyone else joined Jeff in laughing.

Grandma pulled out her phone, and after a minute, pulled up picture. “Here.”

The photograph showed absolute chaos. Lucy was clearly berating a defensive Lee (the buzz cut and moustache had never changed), a smirking Jeff was scolding a distraught, paint-splatted Virgil … and Scott and John were surveying a sleeping new-born baby, whose every inch of exposed skin (and much of his surrounds) were covered in brightly painted spots, stripes, and abstract shapes.

Jeff, still chuckling, heaved himself up from his lounger, and made his way to his middle son, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “There really wasn’t much we could say to you,” he grinned. “After all, you did have permission, and for some reason at no point had your mother and I thought to forbid you from using Gordon as a canvas.”

He turned to Gordon, whose expression now promised many many vengeance pranks in Virgil’s future. “And I don’t know why you’re so upset. You had your first bath after that,” Jeff shook his head. “We’ve been struggling to keep you out of the water ever since.”

Jeff turned back to Lee. “We should have known better than to ask you to watch the boys while we had a nap. You’d have thought we’d have learned after you babysat Scott, for us.”

Scott’s laughter turned to alarm as he eyed his father’s – very sheepish – best friend. “What did he do to me?!”

Notes:

Yeah, so … when babysitting kids, make darn sure you know EXACTLY what it is they’re asking before you give permission.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[youareinacomawakeup]

I’m too tired to go too deep into detail on this one but here’s my Kingdom Hearts 4 theory that I want to put out into the world.

The nameless star and the girl we see in the Verum Rex trailer aren’t actually the same person. It’s a red herring.

Yozora takes clear inspiration from Noctis from FFXV (e.g. the scene of Yozora in the car that’s shot-for-shot a scene from an early trailer with Yozora replacing Noctis).

And while many think that’s because Nomura is using ideas he never got to bring to life when he worked on Versus XIII, aka “Beta FFXV”, before the project moved on without him, I think it’s less that and more to do with Nomura’s feelings in letting go of his characters and letting someone else write their story.

I think Yozora is the answer to the question “What if Noctis knew that his story was so far removed from what was originally planned? What if he knew his fate was changed?” (Put a pin in that, because there’s more to this question.)

Anyway, we all saw the nameless star for the first time and... Okay, well, a lot of us thought it was Strelitzia at first and that Square Enix North America (henceforth SENA) had just put romantic dialogue somewhere that wasn’t supposed to be romantic and accidentally made Marluxia sound like Strelitzia’s love interest. (Wouldn’t be the first time that happened in KH3. Thank you SENA.) But once we saw more of her and Yozora in Melody of Memory and Re:Mind respectively, we all realized she was from the same place Yozora was from, and we all thought about the only girl we know who’s from Verum Rex and we all just...

...assumed.

But we haven’t seen the nameless star’s face. And we haven’t heard Verum Rex girl’s voice. So we don’t actually have any confirmation that they’re the same person.

So here’s my suggestion.

Verum Rex girl is Luna in this equation.

And Nameless Star is Stella, the girl who was originally going to be Noct’s love interest back when FFXV was Versus XIII.

We meet Nameless Star in what is essentially Kingdom Hearts Purgatory. But she’s from a fictional world. Fictional characters can’t die. Not in the way we know it. I can pop Into the Spider-Verse into my DVD player, hit play, and boom, there’s Uncle Aaron, alive. You can’t do that with real people.

But if a character is written out of a story, they’re gone forever. That, I propose to you, is true death for a fictional character, which is why Nameless Star is hanging out with dead people. And she’s lost everything. Her whole identity. Her name. And the person she loves doesn’t remember her. Because she’s not part of his story anymore.

Yozora also says that the way he looks isn’t what he really looks like. A lot of people have taken that to be the start of an explanation for why he looks like Riku, and it still might be in some roundabout way, but I propose to you that he’s been redesigned, and he’s aware of it.

So here’s the core of what this all means, why it’s relevant.

Kingdom Hearts loves its parallels, yeah?

So here’s what I propose to you.

Sora’s story is also, as we speak, being rewritten. At least in a sense.

Sora sees Riku’s light, and twenty minutes later, it’s apparently Kairi’s light.

Sora saves seven hearts, including Riku’s, and three hours later, he’s only saved six, and Kairi’s heart is the seventh.

Somehow or another, Yozora found out about what happened to him, and, due to some trial or another, also found out what is currently happening to Sora. And he wants to save Sora from suffering his fate.

I don’t think there’s any hope for Yozora himself. He is, after all, the night sky, what could have happened if Sora’s story got the “bad end”, so to speak.

But I do think he can “save Sora.”

So here’s the rest of that question.

What if Noctis knew that his story was so far removed from what was originally planned? What if he knew his fate was changed?

And what if he saw the same thing happening to Sora, a kid destined to have a queer love story but forced into a romance with a girl by a greater power instead, and refused to let that slide?

[duhragonball]

Chainsaw Man ch. 75-79

"Mr. President, the camera is this way."

Last time, Aki had a disturbing vision of the future, in which Denji slew both Aki and Power. Angel Devil suggested he consult with Makima about this, but then Angel suddenly remembered his first encounter with Makima, when she mind-controlled him into slaughtering a bunch of humans whom he loved.

So the secret is out, Makima has been mind-controlling her Public Safety agents for some time now, except that the secret really isn't out, because Makima quickly re-establishes control over Angel before anyone can do anything about it. She compels both of them to make a contract with Makima, giving themselves to her completely. It seems odd that such a contract could be binding, but apparently that's the way Makima's power works.

For what it's worth, Makima apologizes to both Aki and Angel, but she believes this was the only way. There are many spies in Japan, and her plans for the Gun Devil have already been compromised. This is her only way forward.

Meanwhile, in the United States, the President is apparently on the phone with... the Gun Devil? He observes that Makima has become all but unstoppable, and most nations have already resigned themselves to defeat, but he can't let it end without trying something, so he makes a contract with the Gun Devil. One year of the life spans of the entire U.S. population, in exchange for the Gun Devil killing Makima, aka the Control Devil.

There's a joke in here somewhere about the United States sacrificing lives to a gun, but I can't quite put it into words.

So I was wrong about Makima simply being the Gun Devil. It seemed like the simplest explanation for a lot that was going on, but I wasn't too far off. I figured Makima had to be some kind of devil, and if she wasn't Gun then she must be some other devil just as fearsome. This series began with the notion that Makima was trying to save the world from the Gun Devil, but now things have reached the point where the world is hoping the Gun Devil will save them from Makima.

I'm... a bit irritated with this, actually. I was kind of digging what Makima was saying in the last few chapters, about Gun Devil already being defeated and his flesh scattered across the world. Apparently all of that was a lie, and Gun Devil was fine the whole time, because the President has his phone number. Everything keeps coming back to the Gun Devil, but what the fuck is the Gun Devil, then?

Well, here it is. As soon as the contract is made, this big boy rises up from the sea and starts moving towards Makima's position. The narration describes its movement, and lists all the people killed in Gun Devil's wake.

Here's a close-up shot of the guy so you can see all the horrified faces in its chest. It's a nice design, but this is kind of a letdown. Gun Devil has been set up as the main antagonist of the series, but now we finally get to Gun Devil and it's just another pawn in whatever game Makima is playing. It doesn't even get any lines.

As the Gun Devil approaches, it starts shooting at Makima. I think Aki and Angel might get killed here as well. Why is Aki missing both arms now? He had one arm before he came to this place.

Makima gets shot in the forehead, but we've seen this happen before when the Yakuza hitmen tried to kill her on the train. So what was the deal with that whole thing, then? Was it really set up by the Gun Devil after all, or was that just a ruse?

Suddenly we find out there's more people here with Makima besides Aki and Angel. We have Spider Devil, who was last seen in Hell, and I'm not sure she ever got out, but okay. We have the girl with the Snake Devil power from that Yakuza arc. I know she's dead because the Snake Devil ate her before she could be interrogated. And we have two of the Public Safety guys who got killed by the Immortal Bros. before they ever got the chance to actually do anything. Did none of these characters actually die? Or did Makima lug their corpses to this spot in preparation for the battle? Or is this just a representation of the power Makima took into her possession when she forced these people to make contracts with her?

Then this happens, and I'd love to tell you what this is, or why Makima needed those six characters to pull it off, but two of them were redshirted before they could even do anything in the story. This can't be some creative application of power that combines spiders, future vision, snakes, and whatever the Punishment Devil had going on. Hell, I don't think we even heard of the Punishment Devil until now.

Meanwhile, Denji is unaware of any of this, since he thinks the battle with the Gun Devil is supposed to be scheduled for later. Someone's at the door, and Denji thinks it's just Aki coming home, but then Makima calls him on the phone and warns him that it's the Gun Devil. She says they couldn't defeat him, and he took over the body of a dead human to escape, so now he's a Gun Fiend. And now the Gun Fiend is at Denji's door.

Oh, and the human the Gun Field took over is Aki. Oh. Okay.

So they have a big fight, with lots of violence and so on. Denji is unnerved that the Gun Fiend knows his name, and Power claims that the Gun Fiend has Aki's scent, so maybe this is more than a Devil inhabiting a dead body. Also, we keep seeing the battle from Aki/Gun Fiend's point of view and he sees it like he's a child having a snowball fight.

Denji gets hurt, and then a bunch of civilians surround him and start feeding him their blood to heal him. They know about him from the news, and they see him as their only hope of surviving the Gun Fiend's rampage.

And this motivates Denji to pull out all the stops and use lethal force to defeat the Gun Fiend before he can kill anyone else. Aki's dead, and the Future Devil looks on in amusement. Just as he foresaw, Aki died in the worst possible way... for Denji.

Wow, Aki just sucked the whole time, didn't he? Early on, I complained that he was less of a supporting character and more like a bystander who just experienced the plot without having much of an impact upon it. And now, at the end, we find him reduced to a warm body for Makima to use in her machinations. He was literally under her control from the beginning, and that doesn't surprise me a whole lot. I mean, you can't help but guess Makima has mind control powers, because she's got the whole spooky eye thing.

But at least the other characters had some agency. Aki seemed to have some, as he lightened up a bit over the course of the series, but this is where it all leads. He goes right back to being a pawn, helplessly ushered towards his fate.

Hell, the death he was promised wasn't even a great tragedy for himself. It was a horrible death for Denji. This all just feels really empty.

Well, at least Aki's out of the picture from here, so he can't drag things down any longer.

[danielfuckingricciardo]

16 + Charles and 26 + Pierre please ❤️

Hi!

Sorry this took so long, I’ve been in such a writing slump lately and this has sat unfinished in my drafts for weeks! But I finally did it and I hope you like it!

The Charles one is also in progress, I’ll make sure to tag you in that one when I post it :)

Song 26 - Creep//Radiohead

Pairing - Pierre Gasly x Reader

Word Count - 3.8k

Content Warnings - swearing, discussion of mental health issues

When you were here before Couldn't look you in the eye You're just like an angel Your skin makes me cry You float like a feather In a beautiful world I wish I was special You're so fuckin' special

Your therapist called it impostor syndrome. She mentioned it a lot during your weekly online meetings, and you usually laughed it off with some cringy internet joke about being ‘sus’ and tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. You’d receive a concerned glance, as you always did when you apparently ‘used humour as a coping mechanism’, but she would eventually move on to another topic, usually something about taking care of yourself physically as well as mentally.

Taking care of yourself physically was never a problem. You had nutritionists and personal trainers, physiotherapists and masseuses available whenever and wherever. The team made sure of that. To Alpha Tauri F1 team, your physical health was their top priority. Your mental health? Not so much. It was easy to lie to them and say that everything was fine, so that’s exactly what you did. You didn’t want to risk losing your seat because you told the truth about how you actually felt inside, so instead you saved that for the therapist you hired for yourself, and every Wednesday at 2pm you unloaded a week’s worth of thoughts and feelings you couldn’t share with anyone else.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, (y/n), we all feel like we don’t belong to some degree. And the bigger you make it in this world, the stronger those feelings will be.” She says, and you scoff.

“I’m not sure about that. The rest of the guys on the grid all seem so confident in themselves, and it’s definitely not a facade. They believe that they are the best of the best. I wish I could feel the same.” You say, and your therapist gives you a small smile before scribbling something in her notepad.

“You can’t know that for sure. Everyone experiences self doubt at some point in their lives, but they beat it, they get through it. Look at you, (y/n), against all odds you made it to where you are now, and you can’t tell me that the powers that be would have you there if they didn’t believe in you. You just need to learn how to believe in yourself as much as they do, and as much as your fans do.” She says, and you nod.

You know she’s right, but you wish that she wasn’t. You wish that your feelings would be vindicated so that you didn’t feel like such much of an idiot for having them.

“Is there anything else you’d like to talk about today?” She asks, and you open your mouth to ask a question, but are immediately interrupted as your phone begins to ring.

You look over at the screen and check the name - Pierre. What the fuck does he want? He never calls you, hell, he hardly ever talks to you unless he’s obligated to. This was definitely weird, something was definitely wrong.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta take this. Work stuff.” You say, and your therapist nods.

“Okay, let’s end the session early this week. Please do text me if you have any concerns you’d like to discuss.” She says, before ending the call and sending your computer screen back to her website.

You take a deep breath in and out before pressing the green icon on your phone screen.

“Hi?” You say, to no reply.

“Hello?” You repeat, and you receive no reply once again.

After a few moments of nothing but shuffling and breathing on the end of the line, you hear a quiet voice in the distance and strain your ears to hear. It’s clear Pierre didn’t mean to call you, it was probably a butt dial or some other similar fuck up, but you couldn’t help but want to listen in to whatever conversation he was having.

It was probably wrong, a total invasion of privacy, but your curiosity got the better of you, and you turn your phone’s volume to maximum.

“The fact of the matter is that Pierre feels as though he isn’t getting anywhere with Alpha Tauri, and therefore, as a team, we have made the decision to make the move to Alpine for the 2023 season.” You hear a familiar voice you cannot place say on the other end of the phone.

You let out a gasp and immediately clap your hand over your mouth, hoping that your shock had not be heard in the silence that had descended across the room.

Pierre was… leaving? After all this time? It was no secret that the two of you had never really bonded following your ascension to Alpha Tauri’s second seat, but you depended on him a great deal. He was great with the media, the fans, and the other drivers, and you felt comfortable following him around the paddock like a lost puppy, laughing and smiling along with everything he said and did.

You probably annoyed the hell out of him, and that was probably part of the reason he was eager to get away, to find a team mate he could actually have some meaningful banter with. Sure, you knew that he hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye with Esteban, but they had grown up together, and had an awful lot in common with one another. It seemed like a solid ground for a relationship, one that would definitely be more popular with the fans than your own.

You hear shuffling through the phone handset, and a whispered ‘fuck’ before the call is ended and the line goes dead.

“Fuck.” You echo, and you throw your phone down on your couch and pull your legs up to your chest, burying your head in your knees as you let out a single tear.

You didn’t think that you were crying for the loss of Pierre, that didn’t make sense, after all, the two of you hardly spoke outside of work. But at the same time, you couldn’t imagine being without him? You hadn’t realised until now just how much you had relied on him, and how much he had helped you over the years. He was the only friend you really had, though he probably regarded you as an acquaintance at best. All of your other friends had been left behind the day you moved your life to Faenza to be closer to the team, and you spent so much time travelling here, there and everywhere, that you hadn’t really had the chance to make any closer to your new home.

You hated to say it, but Pierre was your rock, and you had grown to care for him deeply, and now, losing him, what would it mean? You hoped they would call up some other, more experienced driver, like Daniel perhaps, to take the first seat. He could more than make up for your lack of confidence with his outgoing, loveable persona. But the alternative? The alternative scared you. If they were to call on some rookie to take his place, suddenly you would be the experienced one, the one to teach the newbie what to do and what to say. You barely knew yourself just how to play the game, you wouldn’t exactly make the best mentor.

You suddenly become aware of your breathing becoming faster, and more erratic, as your mind races, and employ one of the techniques your therapist had taught you to slowly regulate and steady yourself. God you regretted ending your session early, you could really do with someone to talk to right now.

Shakily, you reach for your phone and begin to draft out a text to your therapist. She had said to text if you had any concerns, and this was a real fucking big one.

Your phone begins to vibrate in your hands, and it almost slips out of your unsteady grasp as you read the contact name at the top of the screen - Pierre.

Fuck.

You take a shaky deep breath in and count in your mind, 1,2,3,4. You squeeze your eyes shut and squeeze your lips together tightly, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7. Finally, you exhale, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, and you accept the call.

“Hey! Did I call you just now?” Pierre asks, and you hesitate.

“Umm…” You say, unsure whether to lie, or to tell the truth.

“How much did you hear?” He asks, and you chuckle awkwardly.

“You still live at the same place? I’m coming over, I think we need to talk, yeah?” He says.

“Yeah, same place.” You say, and he hangs up.

You stare at your phone for a moment, your mind racing as you wonder exactly what Pierre wants to say to you. Was he angry at you for eavesdropping? You knew you should have hung up, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were always taught that knowledge is power, and you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to discover something new, even if it came from a blatant disregard for your team mate’s privacy. Hell, you’d be angry too if someone eavesdropped on a private conversation of yours, it’s only natural, so you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to come over to yell at you.

Why else would he be coming to visit? It’s not like he owes you an explanation, or an apology. You meant nothing to him, you were just some overgrown rookie hanging off of his coat-tails, nothing but a burden.

Lucky for you, you weren’t left waiting long, as your apartment was only a few blocks away from Alpha Tauri’s headquarters, and you soon heard a rhythmic knock on your front door.

You take a second to breathe once again; in for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, out for eight seconds, before getting up to answer the door.

“Hi.” You say quietly, opening the door for Pierre to enter, your eyes not leaving the ground for a second.

Pierre follows you inside and takes a seat on the chair opposite the sofa where your things were spread out; a blanket, your phone, your laptop, a hoodie, and your favourite stuffed animal.

“Before you yell at me, let me bring my tissues. I always cry when I get yelled at, it’s not a guilt trip thing, so don’t feel bad, it’s just this thing I do, I can’t control it, I…” You say, walking over to your side table where you kept your tissues ready for a particularly sad movie or dog video.

“Who says I’m going to yell at you?” Pierre interrupts, and you turn to look him in the eyes for the first time.

“You’re not?” You ask, blinking away the tears that already threatened to breach your waterlines.

“No, why would I… That’s not why I’m here, I just wanted to make sure you were okay after hearing all of that.” He says, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“Me? Okay? You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.” You say, throwing yourself down on the sofa and closing your laptop, which still happened to be open on your therapist’s website, which Pierre had, no doubt, already seen.

“Oh, thank you! I expected a little more from my long time team mate after finding out I was leaving! Maybe not tears, but, something?” Pierre says with a chuckle, and you shake your head.

“No, no, don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely devastated that you’re leaving, and I’m going to be completely tragic and sad next year without you because I’m a total loser with no fans, but I’m happy for you, really.” You say, and Pierre gives you a warm smile.

“You’re not a total loser, (y/n).” Pierre says, and you give him a small smile.

“But you do think I have no fans?” You chuckle, letting out a small sniffle.

“You know I don’t think that. I’ve seen it myself, how many fans you have out there.” Pierre says, and you scoff.

“They’re all your fans, Pierre, and they’ll be leaving with you. We all know they only tolerate me because of you.” You say, and Pierre shakes his head.

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true! I mean, I have practically no personality when it comes to media stuff, I freeze at the slightest interaction with the media, I post like twice a month on Instagram because my life is just that boring, and, not to mention, I spend my free time talking to my therapist in the company of my fucking stuffed animals.” You rant, and you feel tears running down your cheeks as you speak.

“You really don’t see it, do you? How much they like you because of those things. You’re relatable, (y/n), you’re normal. You’re here to race, not to be a celebrity. You’re not an attention whore posting shirtless selfies for likes and saying stupid shit to keep your name in people’s mouths. And people like that.” Pierre says, and you scoff.

“Yeah, as if.” You sniff.

“If you don’t believe me, then just look online.”

“My therapist said googling myself was a bad idea. Besides, I don’t just wanna be normal and boring. I want people to know me, but I just get so… scared, I guess? Scared they won’t actually like me the way they like you.”

“Well, the little of you that I know, I like.” He says with a smile, and you feel your cheeks heat up. This was the first time you’d heard Pierre compliment you before, and you couldn’t deny the fuzzy feeling it gave you.

“I just wish I was more like you. You’re so popular, with the fans, the media, the other drivers. I see how everyone crowds around you, you were made to be the centre of attention and you’re so fucking good at being in the middle of everything. You have this winning personality, everyone wants to either be you, or fuck you. Or both. If I could just have one tenth of that charisma, that personality, that vibe, then maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to do this thing properly. But I don’t. I’m just (y/n). A loser.” You say, and Pierre shakes his head again.

“But you don’t need to be me, (y/n). You don’t need to pretend to be something you’re not for people to like you. The other guys like you just fine, they just wish you would talk to them more so that they can get to know you. Fuck, (y/n), I don’t think I even know you properly yet. I’d like to, and so would Charles, and Lewis, and Lando. You know, they ask me about you, a lot. I think they would talk to you more, but they don’t want to scare you.” Pierre says, and you chuckle.

“Ha, they know me well enough to know I’m terrified of social interaction, so there’s a start.” You say.

“You know that me leaving doesn’t mean I’m abandoning you, right? I’ll still be there for you.” Pierre says, and you look up at him, sniffing away your tears.

“Really?” You say, and Pierre smiles.

“Hey, I wouldn’t do it for my other team mates, but I guess you’re special.” He says with a chuckle.

“Well, that genuinely means a lot, really. Thank you.” You say, looking up at Pierre to briefly glance into his eyes.

He smiles at you, not breaking eye contact for a moment, and you feel the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I have to go, I have so much shit to do today, but don’t be a stranger, yeah?” Pierre says, standing from your chair and heading for the door of the apartment.

“I won’t.” You respond, and he winks at you before disappearing behind the door, closing it gently with a click.

Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you grab your phone again and immediately dial your therapist.

Ring. Ring. Ring. The call connects.

“Hey, um, I know this isn’t strictly therapy stuff but I need some advice.” You say, and she chuckles down the phone.

“I’ll help as much as I can.” She responds.

“So, I think I have a crush on my team mate, well, and don’t tell anyone this, he’s technically gonna be my former team mate. But yeah, I need help.” You say, and she laughs again.

“Oh, well that’s interesting. Let’s see how I can help then, yeah?” She says, and you exhale a shaky breath.

———

One Year Later…

You look out at the sea of fans, cheering and screaming for you and your team mate as you walk out onto the stage. You give them a wave, a smile, and a wink, and notice just how many of them are wearing your number on their shirts and caps. It gives you a fuzzy feeling on the inside, knowing that Pierre was right, losing him as your team mate wouldn’t mean you’d lose their support.

If anything, losing Pierre helped you. You did take his advice, and with the help of your trusty therapist, who was no longer your therapist at all but your closest friend, you had managed to come out of your shell more and show the world your true personality. And it felt good.

You take your seat beside Nyck on the stage, and turn your attention to the interviewer, who was waiting for the fans to stop their cheering to ask you the first question.

“Okay, okay, any more cheering and we’re gonna run out of time! Let’s get to questions, hm?” The interviewer asks, and you smile.

“Actually, I don’t mind the cheering! Keep going guys, let me hear you!” You say, your voice dripping with enthusiasm and excitement as the crowd goes wild once again.

“First question then, who are you and what have you done with (y/n)? You were so quiet and reserved these past few seasons, but now you seem to have really grown in confidence, and I’m sure I speak for everyone here when I say that we love it!” She says, and you chuckle.

“Well, it’s true I struggled a lot during my first few seasons. I honestly didn’t feel all too confident in myself and my abilities, and that really made it hard for me to be so outgoing. But, things have changed, and I owe it all to my former team mate Pierre. He’s really helped me to grow as a driver and as a person, and given me confidence that I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to have. Even now we’re not team mates, I’m still his biggest fan and just so grateful for his support. So yeah, I really really owe it to him.” You say, and the audience cheers and whoops at your mention of Pierre.

Since Pierre’s move to Alpine, the two of you hadn’t been able to spend as much time together at work, but that didn’t stop you from spending time together at all. You had both made an agreement with one another to go out together at least once a month, and you had even taken a trip together during the winter break at the end of the previous season. Naturally, this meant that speculation was wild with fans over the nature of your relationship, with some insisting that you just had to be a couple.

But the truth was, you weren’t really sure what your relationship with Pierre even was. Sure, a few drunk kisses had been exchanged, and there were hugs aplenty, but as far as Pierre was concerned, you were just friends, even if you did desire something more.

“You mentioned Pierre there, and I’m sure everyone in the audience has seen the photos of your little dates and that ski trip you took back in December, so, are you really just friends?” The interviewer asks, and you blush.

“Yes, yes, we are just friends, really.” You chuckle.

“But if he asked you out, what would you say?” She asks, and you shake your head, a smile playing on your lips.

“Put it this way, I wouldn’t say no.” You laugh, and the audience erupts into loud cheers at your response.

Once the crowd’s shouts and whoops had quietened, the interviewer directs her attention to Nyck and you sit and listen intently until you are ushered backstage with a smile and a wave.

“You wouldn’t say no, huh?” You hear a familiar voice say, and your cheeks immediately heat up.

“I mean, I’d be a fool to say no right?” You say, trying to play it cool despite the anxiety rising within you.

“Then I’m taking you out Wednesday. Properly. Wear that black dress, you look sexy in it.” Pierre says, and you can’t help but stare at him, your eyes wide and your mouth dropping open in shock.

You try to search your brain for a response, but it seemed to have become completely blank the moment Pierre called you sexy. You can’t quite believe he actually said it, and for a moment you wonder if you were hallucinating, or dreaming, and pinch yourself on your arm. It stings, like a bitch, and you realise you most certainly weren’t dreaming. It was real.

“Okay. See you in practise tomorrow, yeah?” You finally manage to say, and Pierre smirks at you.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” He says, winking at you before joining Esteban who was waiting in the wings ready to step out on stage.

The pair step on stage to roars and cheers from the fans, and you chuckle in disbelief, taking one more glance out to the sea of hats and shirts that bore your number. You were finally able to be you, unapologetically so, and the fans loved it, Pierre loved it too, but most importantly, you loved it.

[baronessblixen]

Today's prompt: 7. "Do you recognize this?"

Hurt/comfort AND humor after "Pusher": Mulder doesn't mind Scully showing up at his apartment after the case at all. Only problem: she's not alone. (wc: 874)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 8: A Very Queequeg Morning

"Do you know what this is?" Mulder asks. He tries to be quiet for Scully's sake, but it's early morning and he's irritated.

"Do you recognize this?" he asks now, pointing. "Wouldn't blame you if you didn't because I barely recognize it. You have no idea what you did, do you? You don't understand a single word of what I'm saying." Mulder sighs. How deep has he sunk? Trying to have a conversation with a dog. If Queequeg can be called that. He's sitting in front of him, his ears perked up, and he's slightly panting. He looks harmless, but Mulder knows better. His latest crime is just further proof. 

When Scully showed up here at his apartment late last night, Queequeg at her heels, he only had eyes for her.

"I- it's silly," she'd said, blushing. "I don't want to be alone tonight." She didn't ask if she could come in, and he didn't make a big deal out of it, letting her inside. She had food for the dog, and her meticulously packed overnight bag. She came prepared.

They didn't speak. What was there to talk about? Scully said all there was to say in the hospital. They shouldn't let Robert Patrick Modell take up another minute of their time. Easy to say, much more difficult to achieve. Before she showed up, he'd already given up on the idea of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard the click of his gun, and felt Modell in his head like a fly, trying to make him do what he couldn't even fathom.

Shoot Scully.

But he hadn't. She'd saved herself, and him. 

"I'm glad you're here," he said after a while because it was the goddamn truth. But he had to remind himself that it hadn't happened. That whatever Modell had tried, he hadn't succeeded. Scully just smiled at him.

That was last night. After everything, he'd barely taken notice of Queequeg. But while Mulder had ignored him, the fur ball must have already been plotting his crime. With his bedroom still a mess, and his bed hidden somewhere in there, there had only been one place to sleep for Scully. His couch.

Gentleman that he is, he offered to sleep on the floor, but Scully had said no. And when Scully says no, you listen. So they shared the couch. A few "is this okay" and "are you comfortable" later, and they fell asleep wrapped up in each other, needing each other's warmth and presence. Even if neither of them would admit it. There was, naturally, no space for Queequeg on that couch. And that, Mulder figures, was the last straw for the Pomeranian. 

"You have zero regrets, huh?" Queequeg is still staring at him, sitting still. "You know, I thought I'd take you with me on my morning run. Give you some exercise. What are we gonna do now?"

"Mulder?" Scully's sleepy voice comes from the living room. So much for letting her sleep in. It had already been a gamble disentangling from her earlier. He didn't want to get up. Her hand over his chest, her solid form pressed against him, he just wanted to lay there. But he'd heard Queequeg's nails on the kitchen floor, and a noise he couldn't place, and decided it would be better to check on the dog. If only he'd woken up sooner.

"Is everything okay?" Queequeg, his tail wagging, greets Scully by licking her hand.

"Your dog has a very strange palate," Mulder says. 

"Hm?" She turns to him, and for a moment he forgets everything. Her hair is tousled and her freckled face fresh and devoid of makeup a sight to behold. She's barefoot and wearing her pajamas, in his apartment, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. 

"He doesn't just eat people," Mulder says once he's gathered his thoughts. "He apparently also likes the taste of running shoes." He shows her what's left of his shoe. There's a huge gap where the cap of the shoe should be. 

"Oh Mulder," she says, and he knows she's trying to remain serious, but her lips are twitching. "I'm so sorry. I'll buy you new ones."

"I suppose I still have an old pair somewhere. But all that plastic he ate? Do you think he's okay?" Queequeg shoots him a look. A truce, Mulder supposes. 

"I'm going to take him to the vet. Just to be sure." 

"I'll drive you."

"Mulder, you don't have to."

"I want to. Queequeg ate my weekend plans. Let's have him checked out and make sure his unusual breakfast choices aren't causing any problems."

"Thank you, Mulder. For- for everything." 

"I should thank you," he says. "I wouldn't have been able to sleep last night if it hadn't been for you." She blushes but then she slips her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. She doesn't want to let go and neither does he. Mulder holds her, amazed how tiny she is without her heels on, and closes his eyes. He doesn't know how long they stay entwined like this, but it's enough time for Queequeg to circle them and throw up the remnants of his running shoe all over his feet.