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imaginespazzi · 2 months

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Part 1: Simple Things

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Cause your presence still lingers here (it won't leave me alone)

(In which a procrastinating writer starts another series to continuously procrastinate on)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining

Words: 5.8K (lowkey shocked I managed that)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Look at me not being a liar! I'mma try to be good with updates but we all know me. This first chapter is mainly buildup and it's not my favorite but it's important to get the plot rolling. I know very little about California and it's going to become more and more apparent throughout this series so everyone who knows Cali, just pretend thanks! Did I edit? Yes. Are there probably still mistakes? Also yes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked, and what you wanna see next!

February 2033

“Anywhere but GSV,” Paige says adamantly, staring at the white wall in front of her, instead of her exasperated agent.

Talia lets out a deep sigh, perfectly manicured sharp red nails tapping incessantly against her desk. For the most part, Paige is a dream client and when Talia says jump, she says how high. It’s easy to trust Talia’s vision when she hasn’t let her down once since Paige’s management company has assigned her to their basketball sensation. But most of those decisions had been about endorsement opportunities, opportunities that wouldn’t have other ramifications on the rest of Paige’s life, opportunities that didn’t come with personal consequences.

“Paige-”

“How about the Sparks?”

“They’re not offering nearly as much.”

“I’m okay with taking a pay-.”

“You do not pay me as much as you do for me to let you finish such a stupid sentence.”

“Fine,” Paige spins around in her swivel chair, “you’re telling me nobody else is offering me anything as big as GSV.”

“Well I mean Indiana…” Talia trails off, barely able to hide an impish grin at Paige’s pronounced eyeroll, “and of course you could always just stay in Dallas.”

Paige winces at the mention of the current team. With one championship and two MVP campaigns under her belt, it would be incorrect to say her time with the Wings hadn’t been fruitful but she’d never felt quite at home here. And that had been before the personnel changes had hit Dallas and suddenly, the team coming off a near perfect season with a trophy in their hand, was struggling to keep themselves in playoff contention. Paige had stuck it out two more seasons after, a testament to her loyal nature and desire to start and finish her career at the same place like many legends had done but ultimately enough had been enough and she’s come to terms with the fact that she’s not meant to be a part of the Wings forever.

“Can’t you try talking to the Sparks again?” she says, hands massaging her temple as she resorts to begging, “it’s fucking L.A. they’ve got to have some money lying around somewhere.”

“Even if they did, you and I both know the Sparks aren’t a good fit basketball wise either. GSV has everything you’re looking for. They need a PG and you need a championship contender who’s offering you a deal like they are. You can’t throw all of that away just because-”, Talia bites her lip, catching herself before she can vocalise out loud the real reason they’re having such a complicated conversation about what should be a simple decision.

Paige swallows uncomfortably, skin prickling with that all too familiar fire that spreads through her veins every time her past brushes a little too close to her present. It would be impossible to keep them from ever colliding, but for almost a decade now, Paige has managed to keep them separate beyond absolute necessity. She’s done the cordial handshakes when the Wings played the Valkyries and given due diligent praise when the media had asked about the competition, but that was it. More than that would have been like willingly walking into a fire with kerosene all over her body. And Paige can’t do that, not when the burn marks from years and years ago, still haven’t healed.

“Team chemistry is important,” Paige says finally, “I might be an on-court fit at GSV but that won’t matter if it’s a disaster off the court.”

Talia sighs and Paige can tell she’s fighting the urge to whack her head against her desk, “it’s been years Paige. You've lived a whole life without each other. The two of you are adults. You’re professionals and you’re two of the best goddamn players in the league. You have the same goal; you want to win. You don’t think you can put that behind you to get you both what you want?”

You've lived a whole life without each other

It’s like a well-aimed arrow that barely breaks skin but shatters something underneath, something buried deep within, something she should have gotten rid of years ago but hasn’t been able to let go of yet. Something that feels a lot like a forever she’d never gotten to live out and an always that had flown out of her reach. And Paige knows nobody lives the life they’d expected to live at fifteen or even eighteen but the truth is that most of her dreams had come true. The only thing missing was the person she’d expected to be there by her side when they did.

“Okay listen,” Talia begins again, “here’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Bossy,” Paige smirks, bracing herself, knowing she’s not about to like the next words out of Talia’s mouth.

“You’re going to go to San Francisco,” the older woman raises a silencing hand the minute Paige tries to protest, “you’re going to meet the front office, you’re going to meet the GM and you’re going to tour their facilities. And if after talking with them and seeing all they have to offer, if it’s still not enough to counter having to play with her, then we can revisit this conversation.”

“Can I say no?” Paige tilts her head with a sigh.

Talia smirks and it’s enough for Paige to let her head finally hit the table, “your flight leaves in two days.”

***

Azzi wakes up to a light weight sprawled over her back and tiny fingers rubbing circles against her temple. She can’t help but smile, keeping her eyes closed and listening to the sound of her daughter’s quiet breathing as the little girl continues her ministrations. It’s a new skill she’s been taught, to wake her mom up like this instead of screaming. So far, Azzi think’s it’s been a successful transition.

“Mama,” Stephie whispers in Azzi’s ear, “are you awake yet cause I really really want waffles.”

Azzi laughs, finally flipping herself over and Stephie squeals as she goes from on top of her mother, to landing on the bed, “I thought you said you wanted pancakes last night?”

“I did,” a thoughtful look crosses the five-year-old's eyes, “I think I changed my mind.”

“You think?” Azzi suppresses a smile. It’s uncanny really how she’d given birth to her perfect mini-me. The moment the nurses had placed the tiny little creature into her waiting hands, she’d noticed immediately how much it felt like looking through a door into her childhood. And with every passing day, it seems Stephie morphs more and more into Azzi. From the way her face betrays her every emotion to the way she can’t make a decision to save her life, it’s all Azzi and really it makes sense, because Stephie is all Azzi’s.

“Yes,” Stephie nods matter-of-factly as she sits up onto her knee and pulls at Azzi’s blanket, “so can you get up and make me waffles now?”

“Oh of course I can, your highness,” Azzi says dramatically, rising off the bed and letting Stephie climb onto her back, “would you like chocolate sauce or maple syrup with that your majesty?”

Stephie groans, burying her face in Azzi’s neck as if her mother has asked her to make the most difficult decision in the world. They settle into their morning routine, Stephie brushing her teeth as Azzi goes through her meticulous skin care regiment, occasionally dabbing little bits of this and that on her daughter’s skin, eliciting soft giggles from the little girl. It’s her favourite sound in the entire world. Azzi’s life isn’t perfect and there’s a million what if’s, one bigger than all of the others, that plague her mind sometimes but then she looks at Stephie, and she knows she wouldn’t change a single decision she’d made. Because they’ve all led to this moment, 9 am on a Friday, making waffle batter as her five-year old sits on the counter-top. It’s not everything but it’s enough.

The frantic sound of a door being haphazardly slammed open has both Stephie and Azzi startled, until Colleen comes bursting through it like a tornado.

“Oh thank god you’re awake,” Azzi’s best friend and manager says, out of breath, as she throws her car keys on the kitchen table.

“Hi Aunty Leen,” Stephie grins, waffle batter all over her mouth as she continues to dip and lick.

“Hey kiddo,” Colleen ruffles Stephie’s hair before sitting down and staring pointedly up at Azzi, “you might wanna sit down for this. I have news.”

“Sorry to break it to you Collen but your new h-o-o-k-u-p-s are not sit-down-newsworthy,” Azzi smirks as Colleen scrunches up her nose trying to keep up with the spelling.

“Oh trust me Az, I wish this was about my h-o-o- whatever,” Colleen takes a deep breath, “GSV is meeting with a potential point guard this week.”

“I would hope so. We really need a PG if we’re gonna redeem ourselves next season.”

“Right, well- you see- the thing is-”

“Today if you can please Colleen,” but there’s this knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Her sixth sense that’s been dormant for years is prickling and if she’s honest with herself, Azzi knows the next words that are about to come out of Colleen’s mouth before her best friend has even said them.

“GSV wants to sign Paige,” Colleen says slowly.

For a moment there’s silence and it’s ridiculous how all it takes is her name for Azzi’s mind to start flipping through pages and pages of a photo album she’s buried deep in the treasure chest of her mind. And for a second, she allows herself to get lost in a flood of everything we could have been until the sting of her hand slipping against the waffle iron jolts her back to reality.

“Fuck,” she curses, immedaitely blowing at her fingers. It does nothing. She should know by now that when things burn, the flames might die out, but even the ashes remain on fire.

“Bad word Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, unaware that her mother’s world has just been thrown off balance, “you owe me a kiss.”

She juts her cheek out and Azzi complies, trying to ignore the way her heart is desperately trying to beat out of her chest. It only calms down a little when Stephie presses a kiss of her own against Azzi’s cheek.

“Sorry sweetheart, mama’s bad, Here can you mix this batter for me,” Azzi whispers to the younger girl, distracting her child with something to do, before rounding on her best friend, “she can’t come here.”

Colleen sighs, getting comfortable in her chair, “unfortunately I don’t think you have much choice.”

“The h-” Azzi cuts herself off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, “the haystack I don’t. This is my team and I don’t want her on it and I’m gonna walk into Ohemaa’s office and tell her exactly that.”

“Right and what exactly are you going to tell her when she asks you why you don’t want the best point guard in the league on your team Azzi? Your team, who mind you, lost in the finals last year because you didn’t have a point guard.”

Azzi flinches, gritting her teeth, both at the reminder of the loss that had happened not long enough ago and the fact that she couldn’t very well go into her boss’s office and blurt out the truth about a tragic relationship that had lived and died in secret.

“It's a bad idea, the two of us- we’ll kill each other Colleen,” she struggles to string the words together, swallowing away the we already have that tastes like bile on the tip of her tongue.

“Well you’re gonna have to learn not to,” Colleen says decisively, slipping from being Azzi’s best friend to her manager, “because you and I both know that if you want GSV to win another championship, you’re going to need her.”

“Are you my manager or GSV’s,” Azzi grunts, rubbing a tired hand against her forehead.

Colleen smiles, “it’s the same thing isn’t it? What’s good for GSV is good for you. And we all know the two of you thrive on the court together.”

“We did. Past tense,” the admission falls like lava from Azzi’s lips, singeing the edges of her mouth as everything that she’d let simmer underneath threatens to bubble over, “there’s no guarantee we still will. Besides, it's all a moot point anyways because she would never agree.”

“Wouldn’t she?” Colleen cocks an eyebrow and Azzi groans at the rhetorical question, waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop, “because last I checked, she’s flying into San Francisco tomorrow.”

***

Paige has a problem. A really big fuck i really want to be a golden state valkyrie type of problem. She’d fought it every step of the way since she’d landed in San Francisco. Something about the city felt like it was bursting with basketball. The drive from the airport into Oakland had been bursting with murals of the Warriors and the Valkyries and for a split second, Paige can see her own face up on the billboards in a #5 Valkyries jersey. She just doesn’t know if it she can imagine herself next to the woman in #35 again, the woman whose smile in the posters is exactly as she remembers it to have been like when it was pressed into Paige’s skin every night almost a decade ago.

On top of that, Omehaa Nyanin had seemed to know exactly what made Paige Bueckers, the basketball player, tick. Every argument Paige had about why she shouldn’t be Valkyrie, the woman had a counter ready, as if she’d already anticipated exactly what the blonde would say. The Valkyrie coach had been even more prepared with videos of their offensive and defensive sets and how they fit in tandem with Paige’s own skill set, all ready to show off the minute she had walked through the door. It should be the easiest decision in the world to let herself just belong to this world that is screaming her name but there’s a rope around her waist trying to tug her back to safety, trying to tug her away from dousing her still-open wounds in salt.

Sighing, Paige lets herself into what she’s been told is called the “chill area”. Coach had offered to give her a tour of the facilities herself but Paige had declined, asking instead for her former UConn teammate and currently Valkyrie centre Jana El Alfy to do the honours, desperate for a familiar face who knew her history to bounce her thoughts off. It clearly wasn’t what the woman had wanted, but considering she was trying to convince Paige to choose them, whatever the blonde wanted, she was going to get. Massaging her temples at this irritating predicament she’s unwillingly found herself in, Paige’s head rolls back against the back of the chair, eyes closing involuntarily.

“You’re not supposed to sleep in here,” a tiny voice echoes and Paige almost jumps out her skin in shock.

“Fucking hell,” she curses as her eyes fall upon a little girl who seems to have materialized out of nowhere, “shit kid, you scared me.”

The child scrunches her nose and Paige feels her heart beat start to quicken as recognition settles in. She knows this little girl, has seen her on the sidelines at countless games and just like every other time, all she can think of is just how much this child resembles the future Paige had once believed would be hers.

“You owe me three kisses,” the girl says matter-of-factly, her tone so similar to her mothers. It shouldn’t surprise Paige, not when the kid has those same dark curls, those same doey brown eyes, that same nose scrunch.

“I owe you three kisses?” Paige repeats.

The girl rolls her eyes letting out a sigh far too grave for someone of her age, “yes. Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. You said three bad words, so you owe me three kisses.”

“And what does Mama say about asking strangers for kisses?”

“Stranger danger duh silly,” the child puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she looks at Paige with a far too familiar expression, “but you’re not a stranger.”

Paige purses her lips, “I’m not?”

“You’re Paige Bueckers. I’ve seen you at Mama’s games and Nanna and Pops have pictures of you in their house,” she stops, staring accusingly, “you don’t know who I am? Did you forget me?”

And Paige doesn’t know what catches her off guard more. The casual mention of a house that used to feel like a home, of people that used to feel like family or the fact that, that puppy dog stare still has the exact same effect on her that it did years ago, even if the owner of said eyes is different.

“Of course I didn’t forget you. You’re Stephanie,” Paige says softly, trying to muster a smile as she adds the last name, “Stephanie Fudd.”

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” comes the immediate correction, “but everybody calls me Stephie,” tiny hands wrap around Paige’s neck as Stephie climbs on to her lap, tapping a finger on her left cheek as she smiles up at Paige, “so now can I have my kisses?”

Slowly, Paige presses three featherlight kisses against the little girl’s cheek and when Stephie squeals in delight, she wishes she could record it. Someone somewhere is playing a practical joke on her, Paige is sure of it. Because all of a sudden, all the little things she’s been collecting as to reasons why she might just like the Bay Area are starting to feel insignificant in front of this one, in front of Stephie and her innocent smile and the way her free hand is curled around Paige’s neck as if she’ll hold on forever. And the world is definitely playing a cruel prank on her because Stephie can’t be the reason Paige wants to stay, not when her mother’s the reason Paige needs to go.

“Your Mama just lets you run around the building like this?” Paige asks, trying to focus on Stephie instead of the turmoil in her brain.

Stephie smiles sheepishly, “well I was ‘posed to stay with Aunty Leen while Mama talks to Miss O but then Aunty Leen got a call and I was bored so I came here.”

It doesn’t take Paige too long to decipher that Miss O must be Omehaa, but she’s stuck on who the hell Aunty Leen could be. She’s distinctly aware that her skin has no right to prickle, her hands have no right to sweat, her stomach has no right to knot, she has no right to feel anything when it comes to Stephie’s mother. But jealousy floods through her anyways.

“Who is Aunty Leen?” Paige asks and then mentally slaps herself for it.

“Aunty Leen is Aunty Leen,” Stephie explains unhelpfully, “so Miss Buecks-”

“Bueckers.”

Stephie shoots her an unimpressed look, “same things Miss Buecks. Are you here to join Mama’s team?”

“I-” Paige scratches her neck, only slightly taken aback by the direct question, “I don’t know.”

“You should,” Stephies says decisively, “Mama’s team is the best team in the world and Mama’s the best player in the whole wide world.”

Paige can’t help but smile at Stephie’s loyalty, “so why does her team need me then?”

Stephie looks contemplative for a moment before she uses her index finger to beckon Paige towards her, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course you can,” Paige says, leaning her ear down so Stephie can whisper into it.

“Don’t tell anyone but you’re my second favourite player.”

Paige swears her heart feels like it might burst. She’s been plenty of people’s favourite player and it’s always been nice to hear. But somehow, all of that seems to pale in comparison to being Stephie’s second favourite player.

“Why’s that a secret?” she asks softly.

“Cause you play for the wrong team silly. I can’t cheer for not Mama’s team,” Stephie huffs and then her eyes twinkle, “that’s why you should play for Mama’s team and then I can support you!”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Paige concedes, battling against the part of her brain that’s conjuring up an image of Stephie on the sidelines, cheering for Paige.

“What’s log-ic?” Stephie asks.

“Just means you’re a really smart kid,” Paige says, tapping the little girl’s nose. Her head is ringing with warning bells because this floaty feeling of belonging that’s encompassed in this little bubble she’s found herself in with Stephie is not one she’s allowed to feel, not now, not ever.

“STEPHIE,” a shrill voice echoes outside and Stephie immediately dives into Paige’s neck, hiding herself in the crook of it as a frazzled woman bursts through the door. Her eyes soften when they fall on Paige and the blonde can’t help the caught expression that filters on her face. She knows she’s done nothing wrong; Stephie had been the one to find her after all. But perhaps it’s because she’s scared Colleen will take one look at her and see that tiny rebellious part of her that wants to fight what’s coming next, wants to fight the woman who’s going to take Stephie away from her. Paige isn’t one to get attached easily. It had only ever happened once before when she was fifteen and she’d just known that the girl shooting three’s next to her on the court was meant to be in her life in one way or another. But things had been simple then. Nothing was simple now.

“Stephie,” Colleen says slowly, “what have I told you about running away from me?”

Stephie peeks her head out from Paige’s chest, a coy smirk playing on her lips, “not to do it? But you were boring me Aunty Leen.”

Oh that’s Aunty Leen, Paige thinks and she absolutely should not let out a sigh of relief at that but she does anyway.

“I was on the phone for two minutes, Steph.”

“Two minutes too long,” Stephie counters and Paige has to stifle a laugh.

Colleen rolls her eyes before holding out a hand, “well your Mama’s nearly done so we have to get going kiddo.”

“Can Miss Buecks come with us?” Stephie asks innocently and both Colleen and Paige freeze.

“I don’t think-”

“I’m not sure-”

They both begin before their eyes flicker to each other and they can’t help but smile. It’s funny how relationships work, how one snapped string can cause a whole web to dissolve, no matter how hard everyone involved had tried to make it work.

“I’m waiting to meet someone sweetheart so I can’t come right now,” Paige explains, “but maybe next time?”

And she shouldn’t add that last part, not when Paige should be devising an escape plan to never be in Oakland again instead of giving Stephie false hope about a next time that’s far from guaranteed. But it’s worth it for the way Stephie grins, staring at Paige like she’s given her the world’s greatest gift.

Before Paige can say anything, the little girl presses her lips against Paige’s cheek and she swears she stops breathing for a moment, “I hope you choose to play for Mama’s team Miss Buecks. I think you’d look pretty in purple.”

***

May 2024

“I’ve figured it out,” Paige says triumphantly as she unceremoniously flops onto Azzi’s bed.

“Well hi to you too babe,” Azzi grumbles as she scoots over to give the other girl space. It’s unnecessary because the minute she does, Paige only moves closer, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s torso.

“Hi baby,” she whispers before pressing a kiss against her girlfriend’s lips and pulling away so quickly that it leaves Azzi chasing after her.

Azzi huffs and Paige laughs as she gets herself comfortable, resting her chest on the darker skinned girl's stomach, “I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“Our future,” Paige says triumphantly and Azzi can’t help but smile at the our as she intertwines their fingers together. It’s been years in the making and there’s nothing Azzi’s more confident in than those two words. Not everyone finds forever this young, but she’s certain they have because really she can’t imagine a life where they don’t belong to each other, a life where every night isn’t spent exactly like this.

“And what do you see for our future,” Azzi asks softly.

“Well it’s simple really,” Paige hums, “I’m going to get drafted wherever next year but the year after, you’re definitely getting drafted to Valkyries-”

“I don’t know about definitely-”

“Azzi it’s rude to interrupt,” Paige sends her a chastising look.

“Right of course,” Azzi nods solemnly, “continue.”

“As I was saying. You’re definitely getting drafted to the Valks and then we just have to wait for my rookie contract to be up and boom! I’ll join you in the Bay Area and we’ll be together forever and ever and ever.”

Azzi giggles, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair, “that simple huh?”

“That simple,” Paige promises, catching hold of one of Azzi’s hands to press a kiss to her palm, “it’s us Az, we’ll always be simple. Besides, I think we’d both look pretty good in purple.”

***

May 2033

The Valkyrie facilities are state of the art as expected. Jana is the perfect tour guide, pointing out everything she knows will garner Paige’s attention. As they step foot onto the practice court, Paige feels the overwhelming sense of this could be home that’s been dancing along with her every step of the way today. All the resolve she’d carried with her from Dallas is slowly crashing down and she can practically hear Talia’s sing-song i told you so voice echoing in her head.

“You’d be really good here P,” Jana says excitedly, doing a little spin.

“You’d be lucky to have me,” Paige teases, as she picks up a basketball and subconsciously starts dribbling.

Jana laughs, before a serious expression takes over, “we would. We got really close to winning it all last year and I think you might be our missing piece.”

“I want to,” Paige confesses, “I just-” her eyes flicker to the most recent MVP poster hanging on the walls, Jana’s gaze following hers, “I don’t know if I should. It’s so complicated.”

“Only if you let it be,” Jana says as she swipes the ball out Paige’s hands, “don’t think of everything else P, just- just think of the basketball. Because you know basketball-wise, this is the right move,” she passes the ball to Paige with a smirk, tilting her head towards the basket, “why not take a shot at it P?”

Paige shakes her head, palming the ball in her hands, “can’t believe my son’s all grown up.”

“Children of divorce have no choice but to grow up,” Jana says gravely and Paige laughs despite herself.

Taking a deep breath, Paige raises the ball, arching her arms perfect as she shoots it. It barely touches the rim, before falling through the basket with swish. Hitting the floor with a quiet thud, the ball rolls until it’s stopped by someone's foot. Behind her, Paige can hear Jana cheering for the shot but she barely registers it, her entire attention on the new figure who’s just entered the court. It’s a tale as old as time. Azzi Fudd enters the room and suddenly everything else in Paige’s peripheral fades away, until it’s just her and the girl who still manages to steal her breath away.

“Nice shot,” Azzi says, as she takes a slow step towards Paige. The air is thick with tension as if a time capsule has been opened and their past is leaking onto the pages of their present, staining it with marks of the you and me that we used to be. She should say something, even if it’s just an acknowledgement of the compliment but her tongue feels dry and she’s scared that if she opens her mouth, all the things she shouldn’t say will flood out instead.

“Hey Az,” Jana’s eyes flicker awkwardly between her former teammates, “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“Had to talk to Omehaa about a couple of things,” Azzi says airly, eyes still fixated on Paige, “Jana can we have a minute?”

“You won’t kill each other will you?” Jana asks nervously.

Azzi laughs and even Paige cracks a small smile, “no Jana, we won’t kill each other.”

“Just making sure because last time-” Jana clamps a hand to her mouth as both Paige and Azzi flinch, “because nothing- you guys- you guys talk. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

She scampers away cursing to herself about putting her foot in her mouth and it would be amusing, if not for the fact that Paige can still barely breathe. They haven’t been alone in a room since last time and the air around them hangs heavy with the casings of the grenades they’d hurled at each other.

“I’ve never seen you with braids this early in the year. They used to be your summer braids,” Paige remarks slowly. It’s a mundane change to notice but it’s significant of the larger truth, significant of all the time that’s passed, significant of the fact they don’t know these new versions of each other.

“Yeah um, can’t really do summer braids with the W season,” Azzi chews at her lip.

“Right yeah- yeah that makes sense,” Paige nods. The awkwardness is killing her. She’d never been a fan of the silence, always more comfortable in the chaos but it had been different with Azzi. There had been something peaceful, something calming, about the quiet, when it was just the two of them, hands intertwined, eyes closed, as they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeat.

“Paige-”

“Are you here to tell me not to come to GSV?” Paige blurts out, “because it’s- it’s okay if you are like I get it. I mean- the two of us- it’s just really fucking complicated so I get it- I get it if you don’t want me here.”

“I didn’t,” Azzi admits and it shouldn’t, but Paige feels it sting anyways, “you’re right. You and I- there’s just a lot there and it would- it would be really complicated and when Colleen first told me I- I was gonna go fight Omehaa and be like abso-fucking-lutely not but-” she sucks in a deep breath, “do you remember the promise we made to each other?”

“We made a lot of promises to each other,” Paige says, unable to keep the harshness out of her tone, “sorry I-”

“No you’re right,” Azzi swallows, “but I meant the promise we made when we first started dating. We said we’d never let the personal affect the professional. We promised each other that no matter what, we’d never let our relationship affect us on the court And I know- I know we’ve broken a lot of promises to each other,” they both let out a breath at that, “but I think- I think maybe we should try and keep this one.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need a championship contender and GSV needs a PG. Paige, I’m not here to convince you to not come to GSV, I’m here to ask you to join our team,” Azzi says resolutely.

Paige isn’t easily shocked by anything really. She’s lived what she’d consider a pretty interesting life but of course if anyone was going to surprise her, it would be Azzi. Azzi, who has always been an exception to every rule.

“You- you want me on your team?” Paige repeats, a little dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Azzi affirms, “you told me once that we could be the best backcourt duo in college basketball and we were, even if it was only for a year, we were and so now I’m telling you that I think we could be the best backcourt duo in the WNBA.”

Paige is silent for a second before a smirk takes over her features, “I think I did a lot more than tell you, pretty sure I had a whole video that proved it.”

“Are you asking me to make you a recruiting video?” Azzi raises an unamused eyebrow.

Paige shrugs, “could be a nice gesture.”

“I have a five year old child, Bueckers. Trust me when I say I don’t have enough spare time for bullshit like that when you can easily just search up our highlights on youtube. Or just look in your trophy case if you’re looking for proof of how good we can be together,” Azzi says, a hint of that familiar sass bleeding into her spiel.

“We really were good together weren’t we,” it spills out before Paige can stop it and it’s like they’re taking two steps back from each other, the friendly-ish banter of mere seconds ago being clouded by a past tainted by their mistakes, “on the court I mean. We were really good on the court.”

“Right,” Azzi averts her gaze, “just- just think about it okay? This doesn’t- it doesn’t have to be about you and me, not like that at least. It’s about basketball. GSV is the perfect fit for you and you’re the perfect fit for us. And deep down you must know that too, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe I’m just in it for the free trip to Cali,” Paige surmises.

Azzi scoffs, “you and I both know you make too much money to need a free trip to Cali. If anything, the hotel they’ve given you is probably cheap for your standards.”

“Maybe I just like feeling important? I always did love people showering me with praise.”

“You always did love the attention,” Azzi grins teasingly, “but there’s one thing you always loved more.”

You, Paige thinks but she can’t say that, “and what’s that?”

“Winning. That’s what this is about. You want another championship, so do we. Come help us and let us help you. It’s that simple.”

As Azzi turns to walk away, Paige can’t help but call out from behind her, “you know I think your daughter’s pitch might have been better.”

There’s a smile playing on Azzi’s lips when she turns her face back a little. It’s a new smile that Paige can only assume is Azzi’s Stephie smile, “yeah? What did she say?”

“She told me she thinks I’d look good in purple,” Paige smirks.

Azzi laughs, and it’s exactly like Paige remembers, “it’s that simple huh?”

“It’s that simple.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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carlsangel · 3 months

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CARL GRIMES HEADCANONS (PT 2)

(for curvy!fit!fem!reader. reader has known carl since the start!!!!)

tags: fluff!!! little tiny pieces of angst

masterlist here!

btw, these headcanons go farther than season 8, aka if carl hadn’t…you know -_-

✦ At the quarry, you and Carl would mess around in the woods a lot. You never quite understood what was going on but you guys did your best to stay entertained. He has his own toys and since you didn’t really have the opportunity to take your own or find some, he shared with you and that’s how you became friends.

✦ After Carl got shot you took every opportunity to spend time with him. You practically never left his side at the farm, up until the prison. After Lori passed, you tried your best to give him space but at some point you helped him realize that being cold wasn’t the solution to grief. The prison was the start to his large crush on you and yours on him.

✦ When Carl got his gun back he taught you how to properly clean a gun, you were trained back at the farm like he was. Cleaning his gun was an activity he liked doing so he invited you, his favorite person to share the fun with. He loved doing that but also reading comics so sometimes he would invite you into his cell just to sit there and quietly read. He enjoyed your presence even if you were just quiet the whole time.

✦ Reading comics was something he’d share with you for a while after the prison. You stayed with him through the fall of the prison and you experienced probably the worst of the worst beside him. After everything, the Claimers and Terminus, he felt okay but only because you were there with him. “Are you okay?” You ask. “Im okay. As long as you’re here.” He replies, sort of shyly. This was what helped him realize how much he loves you. He wanted to express that to you without directly saying it and he did that by using physical affection or giving you objects he think you’d like.

✦ At the church, he sat down with you on one of the pews and gave you a small gift. The day before, right after Terminus the group separated to look for supplies. Him and Michonne searched a house and he ended up finding a small dinosaur keychain he thought you’d like.“I found something for you.” he tells you. He pulls it out and gently plops it in your palm. “I thought maybe you’d like it…for your backpack.” After that and seeing your reaction, he knew he wanted to be with you.

✦ You were really hesitant about Alexandria, you were worried it would fall apart just like the prison did. Carl was able to convince you that it’d be good for you, even if some of the group thought otherwise. When you arrived, he held your hand until he was pried away from your side to go do an interview with Deanna. In that interview he mostly talked about you. “She’s really strong…she deserves this more than anyone.” He tells her. You also started your relationship soon after arriving.

✦ Alexandria falling the first time was horrid for you. You were worried it’d never go back to the way it was. Carl getting shot again only made it worse. Although he was the one that was injured, he assured you everything would be okay. Once he woke up and dealt with the reality of losing his eye, you’d cuddle with him just talking about how you wanted your future to be. He’d rest his chin on top of your head which was laid on his chest. “Alexandria will go back to normal soon. One day we’ll be leading this place. You know?”

✦ Throughout the Savior war, you stood beside him and supported him in the decisions he’d made. He basically saved Alexandria and he couldn’t have done it without your support. At the end of it all, his dad took his wish in locking Negan up rather than killing him in order to maintain peace without death.

✦ As time went by, he started to fall more in love with you and he noticed your body more. He loved the way your clothes hugged your curves. He absolutely was infatuated with your body. From that point forward he just touched you ALWAYS. He adored cuddling with you, holding your hand, holding your waist. He hugs you from behind and rubs his hands along your tummy as he kisses your neck. He’s super sweet with you, after the war was over he was happy to just be able to relax and be gentle.

✦ As time goes on and you get older, the both of you take up leadership positions in Alexandria. You get to work together to better Alexandria. At some point you’re able to move into Deanna’s old home. When clearing it out, you find the old camera that she used to interview people. You’d watch each other’s interviews and giggle over the sweet stuff you said about each other.

a/n: sorry for not really incorporating the curvy part HEJSJFHDH i struggled a tad with that. i started doing match ups!!!! so if u want one u can read the info for that and it’s linked in my masterlist :))) i love u bye!!!!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

#carl grimes #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #the walking dead carl #carl grimes angst #twd x you #twd x reader #twd headcanons #twd fanfiction #carl grimes headcanons

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saltandfire-blog · 22 days

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All Time Favorite Lucemond Fics

Thought I’d post some baddies to help us heal from this last season.

ñuhon - When Lucerys lives and wakes up to oblivion, Aemond decides that—more than an eye for an eye—Lucerys in his entirety would be for Aemond to completely own.

In other words: Omega Lucerys survives yet loses his memories, and Alpha Aemond takes his revenge on him creatively.

Holy fuck, this might actually be one my favorite fics of all time. INCREDIBLY well written and perhaps one of the most tragic/romantic lucemond pieces I’ve ever read. I also find myself adoring the Daeron/Joffrey dynamic that is unexpectedly thrown in that I didn’t know I wanted.

all I had to give - Lucerys has waited for Aemond to find him again since his fall. He is only surprised it took this long.

I think this was technically my first a/b/o lucemond verse fic that blew my heart away. Aemond and Luke’s portrayal in this might actually be my favorite. And the added Alysmond is a +❤️

real gods require blood - Before King Viserys I Targaryen draws his last breath, the Greens make their move. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family find themselves prisoners in the Red Keep, cut off from their dragons and at the mercy of a new king.

Terrified of what fate awaits his family, Lucerys Velaryon turns to the only person at court willing to help him, no matter the price he has to pay.

Or: Lucerys offers himself in exchange for his family’s safety. Aemond could never refuse.

Not only is this fucking incredible to read, it might be my favorite smutty fic out there. The dialogue between Aemond and Luke just hits sooooo amazingly, this is one of those fics I go back to regularly to reread. I await the authors part 2 of this with baited breath!

Consanguinity - When the bastard Addam of Hull claims Seasmoke, it throws House Velaryon into disarray. All except Corlys, who spies the perfect opportunity to help his heir out of the delicate situation he has found himself in with an impromptu suggestion.

Though quite why Prince Aemond seems so affronted by the match is anyone’s guess.

Speaking of fics I go back to reread - this is definitely another one!! @nashiriel is an absolutely incredible writer and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this! I don’t like to spoil other people’s work…but I love a pregnant Lucerys a/b/o verse with a deliciously angsty twist ❤️

Divenire - Lucerys survives Storm's End however now he needs to survive Aemond, his obsession over a debt paid and the Dance of the Dragons.

This is one of the first Lucerys/Aemond fics that blew my mind. Is it insanely demented and toxic? Yes. Is it amazingly well written? YES! You decide if it’s your cup of tea, but I always return back to this one every once in a while when I want a pure hate no happy ending fic.

Heir of the Tides series - In 120 AC, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye to his nephew. In 129 AC, he demands the price to be paid.

Later on, Lucerys Velaryon will tell his mother that it was a fair exchange. (or, the author went out and wrote the eye fic she so wanted to read).

I admit, I am an absolute sucker for the idea of Luke taking his own eye out. Add on top of that a Luke who takes more of a role in his Velaryon inheritance - and can’t forget the battle of the Gullet 🤌🏻 !! Definitely a series to invest in.

Life for life, eye for eye - Aemond finds his nephew, somehow surviving the death of his dragon over Shipbreaker Bay, washed ashore, an empty socket where his right eye should be. The message, to Aemond, is obvious: the gods have given Luke to him, to do with him as he sees fit.

Meanwhile, when Luke wakes up, prisoner to his uncle, his world quickly narrows to one thing and one thing alone: surviving, so he can return to his mother, and the rest of his family, alive.

In which Aemond surpasses Daemon for title of 'worst uncle' by several miles and Luke suffers.

Ok so please beware, this is about as dark as it gets. If you’re triggered easily, this isn’t the fic for you. It explores extreme Lima and Stockholm syndrome forsure, but if you’re into this ship I’m sure you must know it consists of a broad spectrum of very dark, toxic fics, and this is one that just so happens is amazingly well written. Please keep in mind, if you don’t like, don’t fucking read.

Portrait of a Prince on Fire - Ser Luke Strong, legitimised bastard of the lord of Harrenhal, has found favour at the sumptuous court of Viserys I as a court painter. But he is also Lucerys Waters, unacknowledged bastard of Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. The secret of his true parentage and the life he could’ve had eats him up, and he drowns his regrets in drink and brawling.

Prince Aemond hasn’t been seen outside court since he lost his eye, over a decade ago. Now he is about to be wed — and the king commissions Luke to paint the portrait that will be sent to Aemond’s betrothed.

They hate each other at first sight — but as Viserys lies dying, the portrait sets them on a collision course that will send them spiralling inexorably together. And as the realm descends into war, they will have to decide whether to hold on to each other as the world they knew begins to shatter.

Another fic I am completely obsessed with! @fruitageoforanges has probably written one of my all time favorite portrayals of Aemond and I love the refreshing take on Lucerys I’ve never seen done before in this ship. A 17th century AU that has an awesome amount of fashion I adore and is an absolute must read 😉❤️

Star-Crossed - Lucerys is taken captive by the Greens after his fall. When Aemond is assigned as his constant guard, and so constant companion, the romance that blooms between them spins the Dance of the Dragons on its head.

Or: two young lovers from rival factions of the royal family come together in a violent world.

I can’t list off lucemond fics without giving this one an honorable mention.

Dirección de la Luz - A decade had passed since Hwa Yeong was exiled from Yin. He had traveled through the entire empire three times and still had not found his death.

Until one day he met the dragon prince.

Or: Pregnant and solely with the company of his dragon Arrax, Lucerys Velaryon travels to the Yi Ti Empire and begins a new life away from his family and Aemond Targaryen.

A fic published in Spanish, but there is a translated version linked or you can translate yourself as I found myself doing because this story drew me in SO hard I couldn’t wait for the translator to update lol. This is such an original idea and SO fascinating to read with the authors portrayal of Yi Ti culture with such amazing detail!! I can’t give this author enough praise and encouragement to keep going!

the beast you’ve made of me - Lucerys Velaryon is no coward. He is frightened. He is alone. He is a bastard. He is a prisoner of a war he would do anything to stop. But he is no coward.

Lucerys survives Shipbreaker Bay. Aemond is baptised in the storm. This is the aftermath.

If you want Team Green Lucerys, this is your story. When you have to join the enemy to save your family with long term goals, Luke really goes through it in this one, but the political seesaw between his love for Aemond and his family is fabulous to read unfold 🤌🏻

Hope I’ve given you guys some beauties to read if you haven’t already 💎🗡️🩸

Lucemond is a beautiful, terrible place 😉

(Tried to @ as many as I could that are here on tumblr)

#lucemond #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #fire and blood #lucemond favorites #lucerys velaryon x aemond targaryen #lucemond fanfiction #lucerys x aemond #remember: don’t like don’t read!#hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction

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fantasyescapes17 · 4 months

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Spinsters do not Need Chaperones (Part 2, Seungcheol Route)

Chaperones are for beautiful young girls. A plain older woman like you, with neither fortune nor youth to recommend her, is hardly in danger of losing her virtue. You've long resigned yourself to always being the supporting role in someone else’s romance.

But could it be that love and marriage have not disappeared entirely beyond your reach? This spinster may capture the heart of an eligible bachelor yet, if only she makes the right choices…

Genre: Seungcheol x female! reader, regency!AU (Sort of Bridgerton-esque but we keep it PG)

Word Count: 4.5k+

Series Masterlist here

You discovered, much to your dismay, that none of your wants or desires could withstand Lady Beaumont’s wild force of personality and will.

It is unnecessary to repeat the exact conversations that took place in the Beaumont manor that afternoon. It is only relevant to note that by the next morning, your belongings had been packed and you found yourself in a carriage with Lady Beaumont and Julia, headed directly for Portsmouth.

“We must see if we cannot find you a husband in Portsmouth as well,” your aunt commented as the carriage rattled farther and farther away from London. “Surely the place has some naval officers milling about. Once Julia’s engagement is secured, there may be someone the Chois can introduce you to- perhaps some widower that will have you.”

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from responding rudely. It was never worth the effort of an argument with your aunt. You simply nodded.

“You're not sulking because I would not permit you to stay in London, are you?” Lady Beaumont snapped irritably.

You sighed and shook your head. “I am not sulking, aunt.”

“You would do well to put the Kims behind you. It was kind of them to allow you to debut and attend the social season with their daughter, but you are a Beaumont, not a Kim. You don't have a dowry worth mentioning, and the advantages of age and beauty are long past you. You need to be practical and think about who will support you for the rest of your life.”

“Believe me, aunt, I think of little else.”

Your aunt turned away with a huff. Julia had been quiet for most of the ride and seemed to be deep in thoughts of her own. You gave your young cousin a reassuring smile and she smiled back at you, but said nothing.

The journey was long enough that dusk had begun to fall by the time the carriage arrived at the streets of Portsmouth. The Choi estate loomed ahead in the distance, and you peeked curiously out of the carriage window at the large manor. It wasn’t quite as magnificent as the Beaumont estate, but it was certainly a fitting home for a noble family. The sea was very close by. Surely the view of the vast blue waters from the upper stories of the manor would be marvelous.

“It’s not as grand as London but this town really is quite beautiful,” you said to Julia as you both descended the carriage. “Perhaps we shall have a nice time in Portsmouth.”

Julia bit her lip. “I hope so, cousin.”

The servants arrived to carry your luggage inside and a few moments later you were greeted by the arrival of Mr. Choi Seungcheol and his mother, Mrs. Choi.

“How delightful to see you again, Lady Beaumont, girls,” Mrs. Choi greeted you all warmly. You were surprised when the older woman embraced you and Julia. “I do hope you had a safe journey. Please come in, out of the cold! Summer is past and the evenings are quite chilly these days.”

“Yes-yes, our journey was quite pleasant, thank you,” Lady Beaumont replied quickly as she wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “Portsmouth seems very lovely.”

“We hope that you will like it.”

Seungcheol stood a few steps behind his mother. He nodded at you politely when you made eye contact with him, but there was not much of a smile on his face. You returned a polite nod. For Julia’s sake, you sincerely hoped that Mr. Choi was a good man. It was hard to tell what he was thinking behind those dark, charismatic eyes and that unsmiling face.

“This is my housekeeper, Mrs. Williams- she has prepared rooms for you all upstairs and I hope you will find them comfortable,” Mrs. Choi explained. “Mrs. Williams, will you please show our guests to their rooms?”

You followed the housekeeper upstairs, admiring the large and tastefully decorated manor. Lady Beaumont had been provided with her own room, while you and Julia had been given a slightly larger room to share. As soon as Mrs. Williams deposited your belongings and left, you went to the large french window in your room and threw it open.

“We have a lovely view of the garden,” you observed. “But it appears this side of the manor does not face the sea.”

“A very good thing too,” Lady Beaumont muttered. She still had her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders and looked quite pale. “I cannot imagine how cold the sea winds would be at night. Close that window immediately, there is a terrible draught.”

You sighed and shut the window. “Shall we dress for dinner?”

You all dressed and went downstairs for dinner with the Choi family. Seungcheol sat at the head of the large table, and his dark eyes were watchful as Lady Beaumont and Mrs. Choi had an animated conversation about the china, and the difficulties of finding a good cook. You noticed that Seungcheol kept looking between you and Julia repeatedly. Once the first course was completed, he finally addressed your cousin directly.

“How do you like to spend your free time, Miss Julia?” Seungcheol asked your young cousin. His tone was gentle enough but his dark eyes were unsmiling and Julia still looked somewhat afraid of him.

“I-I like music,” Julia whispered.

“I must apologise, Miss Julia, I could not quite hear your response,” Seungcheol admitted.

“I like music,” your cousin repeated a little more loudly. “T-the pianoforte.”

Seungcheol nodded. “Of course. Yes, of course, I had the pleasure of listening to you play back in London. Allow me to compliment you once again on your skills. You played wonderfully.”

Julia blushed and stared at her plate. “Thank you.”

Their conversation was painfully awkward and almost difficult for you to watch. You did not want to interfere but Julia was being incredibly shy and you could see that even Seungcheol was not quite sure how to engage her in conversation. It was your duty as a chaperone to fill in this awkwardness. You cleared your throat and turned to him with a smile.

“Mr. Choi- perhaps you can recommend things for us to do, or places to see while we are in Portsmouth?” you asked lightly.

Mr. Choi seemed almost relieved at your interruption and he turned in his seat to face you. “Of course, Miss Beaumont. I would be delighted to take you all down to the beach tomorrow morning. Portsmouth has many wonderful beaches. I am pleased to say it is one of the few advantages we have over London and the rest of the general countryside.”

You turned to Julia. “Julia! Doesn't the beach sound lovely?”

Julia nodded quickly. “Yes-yes, it does.”

You turned back to Seungcheol. “And the harbour; shall we be able to visit the harbour as well?”

Seungcheol blinked at you in surprise. “Well, certainly, if you like… although the harbour is full of ships and goods and commercial offices. I did not think it would be of particular interest to young ladies.”

Your eyes widened eagerly. “We should love to visit the harbour. Julia and I have just finished reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas. We have oceans and submarines and sea monsters on our mind, don’t we, Julia? We would love to see the naval ports and even your ships, Mr. Choi, if it is not too much trouble to you.”

Seungcheol nodded. “No trouble at all. I shall be delighted to show them to you.”

Mr. Vernon, who had been almost entirely silent until then (you had a strange suspicion that he was hiding a book underneath the table and was reading instead of paying attention to the conversation) looked up and smiled at you. “My brother spends too much time at the harbour already, Miss Beaumont. I am afraid the trouble lies more in bringing him back home.”

Seungcheol looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow- he did not smile but there was a surprising light-heartedness to his tone. “Then perhaps you had better join us, Vernon, so that you may undertake this incredibly difficult task of bringing me back home and not leave it to the ladies.”

“I wish I could, brother, but my exams are coming soon and I must devote myself to studying,” Vernon replied apologetically.

“Is that why you have hidden a book under the table?” you asked him with a playful smile.

Vernon’s ears turned red. “There is no book-”

Seungcheol sighed, although he did not look too angry. “Vernon, surely you can put your studies away for some time while we have guests?”

“Sorry,” Vernon mumbled as he turned his attention back to his dinner. You smiled- and were surprised when Seungcheol caught your eye and gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile of his own. The smile brought a sudden light to Seungcheol’s already handsome face and you were surprised by how charming he looked. But before you could react, Seungcheol had turned to Julia and asked her a question about whether she enjoyed French literature.

The dinner ended pleasantly and Mrs. Choi entreated Julia to play a little music for them in the drawing room before the family retired to bed. You sat down on the comfortable sofa to listen to her performance and were surprised when Seungcheol sat beside you.

“Miss Beaumont,” Seungcheol said to you in a quiet tone that could not be picked up by his mother or your aunt seated near the fireplace. “I must thank you for your thoughtfulness during the conversation at dinner. I hope that Miss Julia’s quietness is simply her nature, and not caused by any behaviour on my part…”

Your eyes widened. “Oh! No, you must forgive Julia’s quietness. She is only a little shy since she has not spent much time in society or among gentlemen. I assure you, she will open up soon and has a very lovely personality.”

Seungcheol nodded and cleared his throat. “I am… glad to hear it. I suffer from a similar handicap. I have lived in Portsmouth too long and failed to cultivate the art of polite conversation that I would have developed if I had spent more time among young ladies in London society.”

You smiled at him warmly. “There is nothing lacking in your conversation, Mr. Choi. You must only forgive Julia for being too young and inexperienced.”

“Youth is hardly a fault,” he replied thoughtfully. “And inexperience- well, that can surely be remedied with time and effort.”

“I agree.”

“Then I shall only thank you,” he replied gently, “and wish you a good night, Miss Beaumont.”

“Good night, Mr. Choi.”

—-------------------------------------------------------

Lady Beaumont declared that she had developed the chills and that nothing should distress her more than being exposed to the harsh autumn weather on a cold morning. She had therefore resolved to stay indoors all day. You were at liberty to depart for the Portsmouth harbour after breakfast, entirely unburdened by your aunt’s company.

“I hope Lady Beaumont is not unwell,” Seungcheol enquired politely as he helped you and Julia board the carriage. “She does seem rather troubled by the cold.”

You chuckled. “You may rest assured that my aunt is in perfect health, Mr. Choi. Her chills have everything to do with her hatred of long walks, and nothing to do with the weather or her health.”

Seungcheol smiled. “I am relieved to hear it.”

The harbour was a short distance away. You were pleasantly surprised by how dazzlingly beautiful the blue sea was, even among the hustle and bustle of the busy harbour. Mr. Choi had been telling the truth. The harbour was a place of business, not exactly a tourist destination, but you still found yourself excited by the sight of the enormous ships anchored in the distance.

“It smells of fish,” Julia mumbled to you.

Seungcheol had overheard her. He merely nodded as he helped Julia down from the carriage. “Yes, I’m afraid it is rather early and the fishermen will be loading the boats with their catches to transport to nearby towns. Here; please use my handkerchief to cover your nose if it is too unpleasant.”

Julia blushed but accepted his handkerchief gratefully.

“Are any of these ships yours, Mr. Choi?” you asked, interested.

Mr. Choi nodded. “Some of the ships undergoing repairs are at the docks, and I will be glad to show them to you. I am afraid that my best ones are all away at sea, bringing goods back from the colonies.”

“What sort of goods?” you wondered.

Mr. Choi smiled. His eyes lit up and you could tell that he enjoyed talking about his ships and business. There was a tinge of pride in his voice as he explained it to you. “Everything the merchants in the colonies hire us to transport. Cotton, tea, silks, even precious metals and antiques. Well, almost everything.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Almost everything? May I ask why you qualify it so”

Seungcheol coughed and lowered his gaze slightly. “I’m afraid the merchants sometimes wish to transport people instead of goods, and naturally I do not offer my ships for that sort of trade.”

Your eyes widened in understanding. The slave trade. Julia noticed the expression on your face and looked between you and Seungcheol, confused.

“I do not understand. Why should you refuse to transport people?” Julia asked innocently.

“Because people are not goods, Julia,” you replied quietly. “Let us leave it at that for now.”

“On a more pleasant note,” Seungcheol said brightly, “the Royal Navy also uses this harbour for their ships and there are many senior naval officers here. I see Commodore James approaching us now, if you will allow me to introduce you to him.”

“Of course, we shall be delighted.”

A small group of naval officers in uniform approached you from the harbour. Julia’s grip on your arm tightened, and you saw that she had her eyes on the officers and was deeply blushing. You smiled to yourself- you remembered the days when you had fawned over gentlemen in uniform.

“Mr. Choi!” the senior naval officer at the front of the group greeted. He was an older man with slightly greying hair and a bright smile. “How wonderful to see you here- and in the company of two beautiful young women, no less!”

Seungcheol nodded politely. “Commodore James, allow me to introduce you to Miss Beaumont and her cousin, Miss Julia Beaumont. They are my mother’s guests and are staying with us at Portsmouth for the fall.”

You were surprised when Commodore James reached out to kiss first your hand, and then Julia’s. He then introduced you to the rest of the men standing behind him. You tried to concentrate and remember their names and ranks, as Commodore James rattled them off, but you were sure you would forget them soon.

“I hope you have an excellent stay in Portsmouth,” Commodore James said, addressing you and Julia. “May I ask if you ladies are fond of dancing?”

You nodded. “Indeed, we are.”

“Then we shall hope to see you at the assembly rooms one of these evenings, and you must each reserve some of your dances for me and my officers,” Commodore James insisted.

“We would be glad to,” you replied politely.

“Excellent. I am afraid you must excuse us for today- we have an appointment to make. Good day, Miss Beaumont and Miss Julia.”

You and Julia curtsied politely to the officers as they walked away. You could tell that Julia’s attention was almost entirely diverted and she kept glancing back at the retreating officers. You couldn't blame her, really. Some of them were rather handsome. But it wouldn't do for Mr. Choi to notice her distractions, so you hurried to engage him in another conversation.

“Perhaps we might see your offices, Mr. Choi?” you asked quickly.

Seungcheol blinked. “Oh-yes, of course. This way.”

You kept a grip on Julia’s hand and followed Mr. Choi as he led you towards his offices. Mr. Choi ran his shipping business from a large building further down from the harbour and you were unsurprised to find the office full of clerks and accountants, writing letters and poring over ledgers. Some of the clerks bowed their heads towards you politely, clearly surprised to see ladies at the office.

“Well, here we are,” Seungcheol said. “I am afraid the office is a rather uninteresting place.”

“It is fascinating,” you replied honestly. “I am quite curious to know what exactly happens here in this office, Mr. Choi.”

“Correspondence, mostly,” Seungcheol replied with a smile. Despite declaring himself that the office was uninteresting, he clearly did not really think so. “Taking orders, recording consignments, planning routes and schedules, hiring seamen, drafting bills of lading, insurance policies and invoices…”

Julia frowned. “It sounds dreadfully complex just to bring some cargo over on a ship,” she remarked.

Seungcheol nodded. “I'm afraid it can be.”

“It must be a lot for you to manage,” you said.

“Not at all. I enjoy it very much,” Seungcheol replied honestly. “I built this business myself. I do occasionally wish I had help- I asked Vernon to join me in running the business, but he has his own passions to follow and wants to become a barrister. I cannot blame him. The shipping business is not for everyone.”

“It is very admirable,” you told him honestly.

“Thank you, Miss Beaumont.”

Julia glanced around the office, clearly bored. “Might we go to the beach now?”

“Of course… allow me to call for the carriage.”

—-----------------------------------------------

The Portsmouth beach was incredibly beautiful. You felt a sort of resounding peace among the crashing waves and the vast blueness of the ocean and sky. You closed your eyes as a gentle spray of water from the crashing waves fell across your face.

“I see that the beach is to your liking,” Seungcheol commented.

You opened your eyes and reallzed that his dark gaze was fixed on you. You flushed involuntarily- there was something very charismatic about the soft smiles that Seungcheol bestowed rarely and briefly. He was indeed a handsome man and you were, after all, just a woman.

“Yes, I like it very much,” you replied. “The ocean is beautiful. I saw it from the carriage as soon as we arrived yesterday. I had been hoping that we would have a view of it from your manor.”

Seungcheol's eyebrows furrowed. “Do you not have a view of it from your room?”

“Oh- no, our rooms face your lovely garden instead,” you replied lightly. You turned back to look for Julia, who had fallen behind and stopped to fiddle with her shoes. “Julia! Are you all right?” you called out. The crashing waves almost drowned out your voice.

“I am all right, there is just some sand in my shoes!” Julia yelled back.

“Do you need help?”

“No- only wait for me a few moments while I turn them inside out!” Julia called.

You nodded and turned back towards Seungcheol, who was still looking at you. His hands were clasped behind his back and his broad shoulders seemed a little tense. His dark eyes faltered for a moment and then he spoke.

“Miss Beaumont,” he said softly.

You looked up at him. “Yes?”

“I know that our acquaintance is too short for me to speak to you so openly. But my experience of you has been that you are a very thoughtful and mature woman who is capable of understanding the complex nature of life and relationships.”

You stared up at him in surprise, trying not to feel too embarrassed. “Oh- well- I cannot say that this is a compliment I have ever received before, Mr. Choi, but I thank you for it all the same.”

“If I speak to you with a level of honesty that is unusual for our short acquaintance, I hope you will not resent me for it.”

“I should never resent someone for being honest,” you assured him.

“Then I will take this opportunity to speak plainly about the elephant in the room, and most certainly the reason that you and your family find yourselves in Portsmouth. The entailment of the Beaumont estate due to the lack of male heirs in your family.”

You stared at him. You were embarrassed, but gratified that Seungcheol had taken the first step to actually broach the subject that was on everyone’s mind. It was painful to think about the possibility of months of continued tip-toeing around the subject out of a sense of propriety.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “I beg you not to let the entailment trouble you, Mr. Choi. We understand, the law being what it is-”

“But it does trouble me, exceedingly so,” Seungcheol replied firmly. There was a sudden fire in his eyes. “Miss Beaumont, I am a very proud man. Perhaps you have heard of this through rumours but my late father was a gambler. He gambled away my family’s estate until there was almost nothing left by the time he died and I turned of age. I have spent the better part of a decade building my shipping business and restoring my family’s finances and reputation in society.”

You looked up at Seungcheol with wide eyes and nodded. “Indeed, I have heard as much about you, Mr. Choi. You are known for being a self-made man and I have seen here today what you have built. You are well within your rights to be proud of your success.”

Seungcheol took a deep breath. “Thank you. But I want your family to understand that it gave me no pleasure to learn of the entailment. It is not in my nature to rejoice at a handout, especially not when it is being stolen from the family it rightfully belongs to.”

You sighed. “There isn't really any question of rightfulness, here, the law is what it is-”

“Yes,” Seungcheol replied. “If it was within my power to refuse the estate, or to transfer it back to you and your cousin, then I would do so in a heartbeat. But it is not in my power to do so. The terms of the entailment will not permit me to transfer the Beaumont estate to anyone other than my own male heirs.”

“We understand, Mr. Choi,” you assured him quietly.

Seungcheol inhaled sharply. “I have discussed this with my mother, and we have agreed that the only conscionable manner to deal with the Beaumont estate is to offer a union of our families, to ensure that any son I pass the estate to will be of Beaumont lineage.”

You took a deep breath and looked up at him. Seungcheol’s dark eyes were worried; you could see the honesty behind them. This was not a performance or empty words. Seungcheol was genuinely conflicted and distressed by the knowledge that he would be inheriting your family’s fortune and estate. He clearly considered it his duty to do whatever was in his power to ensure it stayed in your family.

“Then I must return the favour and be equally open with you as well, Mr. Choi,” you said honestly. “A union of the families is exactly what my aunt is hoping for. We have come to Portsmouth in the expectation that you will be persuaded to marry Julia, and that the Beaumont estate can remain within our family.”

Seungcheol was silent for a long moment. He looked at you, and then back at Julia. Your young cousin was still balancing carefully on one foot as she struggled to empty beach sand out of her shoes.

“Of course,” Seungcheol said finally. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and left it slightly ruffled. “But Julia is… young.”

“She is of marriageable age,” you replied.

“No doubt,” Seungcheol replied quickly. “Since Lord Beaumont is still in good health, I assume there is no need to act with any haste. I would like to spend more time with Julia and your family. But I hope it will bring Lady Beaumont some relief to learn that I have every intention of uniting our families when the time is right. I trust you will convey this to her in the appropriate manner?”

You bowed your head. “Of course, Mr. Choi.”

“Thank you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but Julia had already come running over to you; her hair was a little dishevelled and she looked annoyed.

“There is no end of sand in my shoes,” she mumbled. “May we return to the manor?”

“Yes, indeed, let us return.”

—------------------------------------------------

You went to your aunt’s bedroom after dinner, to tell her about the events of the day. It would bring her some relief to know for certain that Seungcheol intended to marry Julia, and you did not want to deny her that peace of mind.

“I am not sure what I think of him saying all this to you,” your aunt admitted with a frown, “but I suppose he was sensible enough to know not to say it to Julia.”

“She is too young, and still dreams of love,” you muttered to your aunt. “She would not have enjoyed speaking of her own marriage in such… economical terms.”

Lady Beaumont sighed. “All the same, it is indeed a relief to know that Mr. Choi intends to do the right thing. Our time here is not wasted after all. We shall rest easy after your uncle passes.”

You nodded. “We are lucky, aunt. Mr. Choi is… well, he seems to be a very good man. I find his behaviour quite admirable.”

“Well it's not much use to you,” your aunt snapped. “You must still try to find yourself a husband, although we cannot hope for anyone too rich. Mrs. Choi talks highly of a certain widower called Commodore James. Perhaps you should visit the assembly rooms and try to dance with this man.”

You winced. “Aunt, he must be twenty years my senior.’

“If you wanted a young man then you should have found one while you were young,” Lady Beaumont said dismissively. “Don't come to me now in your late twenties and complain to me about the age of your suitors. It will be a relief if we can find one at all. Now good night.”

“Good night, aunt,” you muttered.

You walked back to the room you shared with Julia, only to find that there were a few maids carrying your luggage out of the room. You stopped in your tracks and called out to one of them.

“Are those my dresses? Where are you taking those?” you asked.

The maid placed your trunk down and bowed. “Apologies, Miss Beaumont, Mr. Choi asked us to have you moved to a different room on the other end of the corridor. He said to put you in one with a better view of the ocean.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh-yes, thank you. That would be lovely,” you muttered.

“I will show you your new room, please follow me.”

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

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfiction #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #s.coups x reader #regency!au

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ghostofskywalker · 1 month

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Stop Running From Love

Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,968

Summary: Lost after finally escaping from the Empire, Crosshair crash lands on your property. While he's recovering, he realizes something important about himself, but it takes the meddling of his brothers for him to actually admit it.

Prompt: “Falling in love, no, it ain’t for the weak" (In The Kitchen, Renee Rapp)

Notes: this is a gift for the lovely @intricatechaosofyou in the @cloneficgiftexchange song lyric exchange! I thought Crosshair fit the vibes of this lyric especially well because he would be the most apprehensive about falling in love. there's some canon divergence here, and in my head it takes place in a world where crosshair escapes the empire sometime in season 2. I hope you enjoy it :)

Clone Troopers Masterlist

When Crosshair first opened his eyes, he didn’t recognize his surroundings. He remembered the escape pod hurtling through the atmosphere of a planet he didn’t recognize, and of course he remembered crashing on the outskirts of a forest and field, but that was about it. By the time he hit the ground his vision had gone blurry, but he remembered the jolting feeling before all his other senses decided to sign off as well.

Now, the first thing he registered was the wafting smell of something cooking in the next room. It had been so long since he had any kind of food other than stolen Imperial rations, and even then, he could tell that whatever was being made now would be infinitely better than the flavorless slop and rock-hard bricks they used to serve at the bases and send on missions.

The second thing he noticed was how warm his body was. Spending a seemingly endless amount of time trapped with the same air in that escape pod was completely different than the soft blanket that was currently resting atop his body, and there was no way the Empire would hand out supplies like this to clones, let alone prisoners. Running his hand across the fabric, a small smile curled on his lips.

Maybe he was dead. He couldn’t imagine a version of reality where he would be afforded these comforts, not after what he had done to his family. He had spent so much time in that tiny vessel, chasing down an ice cold trail his brothers left in the endless expanse of the galaxy, maybe that crash had finally put that journey to an unsatisfying end.

But those thoughts immediately exited his head as he heard someone enter the space, and he turned to see you approaching his resting place. “You’re awake,” you said softly, still at a distance. “That’s good, I was just about to come and change your dressings.”

In that moment Crosshair realized another thing, that his armor was gone. He was wearing the bottom part of his blacks, but there was a loose tunic of unfamiliar fabric resting over his top half. He shifted as he sat up to face you, and he could feel the tightness of bandages wrapping across his right shoulder and upper area of his chest.

“Who are you?” he said, and this version of his voice was alien to even him. It was scratchy and hoarse, a product of both the injuries and the fact that he hadn’t spoken aloud in quite some time. He hoped his tone wasn’t accusatory, especially if you had taken care of him while he was unconscious.

You told him your name as you stepped closer, fresh bandages in your hand. “Your escape pod crashed at the edge of my property and when I found you, I didn’t know how long it would be until you woke up.”

If you woke up. You didn’t say that part, but Crosshair was willing to bet you’d considered it.

“Is the escape pod still functional?” he asked, his voice coming out sharper than it had before. That thing, cramped (and now busted) as it was, was his ticket off this planet.

You stared at him for a moment before responding. You were so close to him now, one hand reaching out to remove his tunic. “I don’t know. It’ll need some new parts and heavy repairs at the very least, but I might be able to make it fly.”

Whew. That was at least something he could work with. “Where can I find-”

At this point you had begun to remove his old bandage dressing, but you stopped as you registered his words, raising your eyebrows. “Woah buddy,” you said. “With your injuries, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. You need to focus on healing, and then we can tackle the task of your ship.”

He scoffed. Who did you think you were? This was his life, and if he wanted to make terrible decisions he was fully within his right to do that. Besides, the voice in his head he so desperately tried to ignore chimed in, he didn’t deserved to be treated with this kindness. “I need to leave as soon as possible,” he said, his gaze turning steely.

You returned the expression, gesturing down to the bleeding gash on his chest and burns on his shoulder, which were both thanks to his less-than-graceful landing. “Not in this condition.”

“It doesn’t matter what condition I’m in, I need to leave.”

You must have noticed the desperation in his voice, because your tone softened as you began to apply a bacta solution to his shoulder. “Look,” you said. “I don’t know what happened to you, or what you’re looking for beyond this planet, but I do know this. Unless the Empire is seconds behind you, which they aren’t since you’ve been passed out on my couch for over a rotation, leaving hurriedly will do you absolutely no good.”

“How do you know?” he said, too shocked to elaborate but hoping you understood.

“Your armor was a pretty dead giveaway,” you said. “And besides, people who aren’t on the run usually let their wounds fully heal.” He was silent, his mind still attempting to figure out exactly what your game was. “I don’t work for the Empire, that’s one thing I can promise. All I want is to help you, but I can’t do that if I’m worried you’re going to bolt the moment I turn my back.”

“Fine,” he said, though it came out more like a growl than he intended.

A smile crossed your face, clearly happy at the small victory you had won over him. “Excellent,” you said as you finished re-applying his bandages. “And now, since you already know my name, can I ask yours?”

“Crosshair.” He still wasn’t happy about the current state of things, even though he knew it would be for the best.

“It’s nice to meet you Crosshair,” you responded, seemingly not bothered by the annoyance in his voice. “Would you like some soup?” He nodded, and you left the room to fetch it, humming an upbeat tune under your breath as you did so.

As much as he didn’t really want to admit it, something about you made him want to stay, and the thought was terrifying.

Over the next few rotations, Crosshair got a glimpse of what it would be like to settle down. Yes, you lived away from others (there wasn’t another home nearby that he could see), but you didn’t do so out of fear, like he would have (and like other clones who defected were forced to). You grew your own produce, sewed your own clothes from fabrics purchased at the local market, and made a life working as a droid and speeder mechanic. In a different life, Crosshair could see himself going about his days in a similar fashion.

The internal conflict started not long after. The escape pod he had been traveling in turned out to be crushed beyond repair, so you had pulled a decrepit-looking starship from your shed and offered that to him, and he didn’t really have any other options.

You didn’t let him help because the injuries on his chest were still too fresh, but he made himself useful in other ways as he sat on a chair next to where you were working on the ship. “Could you toss me the wrench next to you?”

“The small one or the large one?”

You poked your head out of the ship’s cockpit. “Small one please.” Crosshair nodded and tossed the tool in your direction. “Thanks!”

Kriff, he wanted to stay. But he needed to finish what he started, to find his family and at the very least apologize for not listening to them about the Empire. And while you were so kind, could he really ask you to permanently allow him to live here? He doubted you felt the same way about him that he did about you, so those desires would have to remain in his mind for now.

“Okay, I refitted the hyperdrive and adjusted the control panel in the cockpit,” you said, popping into view and tossing the tools in your hand to the ground with a clatter. “With a new set of converters, she should be able to go as fast as you want her to.”

“When are you going to let me out of your clutches?” Crosshair asked, leaning back slightly in his chair.

“Why, you want to escape or something?” you fired back, raising your eyebrows in his direction as a playful smile crossed your face. “A few rotations probably, once your chest wound closes up more and doesn’t take as much gauze.”

“I don’t want to take up more of your time and resources.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said. “It’s been nice to have someone else around here.”

Maker, did he want to stay.

But he couldn’t.

In a very Crosshair fashion, he slipped away in the dead of night, the moment his wounds were healed. As much as it hurt not saying goodbye, it would hurt more if your feelings didn’t match his.

***

On the surface, the man standing at the produce stall didn’t really look like Crosshair (for one, he had a rather striking face tattoo), but you could see resemblance in their mannerisms. Or you were just crazy, because there was no way those two could be connected. At this point, you had accepted that Crosshair was not coming back, and that was the end of things.

It had stung, to wake up one morning and see him gone, with the cot he slept in perfectly made and a scrawled note on the pillow thanking you for everything you did. Of course you knew he would leave, but you at least expected that you would be around to say goodbye.

Clearly he didn’t feel the same way about you that you did about him, or this would not have happened. It was stupid, to allow yourself to fall for your temporary houseguest, and you were paying the price for it now. You just didn’t know that paying the price meant you had to be content with seeing ghosts of him at every turn.

You were looking at the homemade sweets one Twi’lek was selling as you watched as a young girl drag the man with the face tattoo over in your direction. “Hunter, let’s get some candy for everyone back at the ship!”

You smiled quickly before turning away, they didn’t need you watching their every move. “Do have leftover credits?”

“Yes, and Crosshair gave me some as well, though I don’t know why.”

Wait.

Crosshair?

Maybe you hadn’t been so incorrect when you noted their facial similarities earlier.

The man and young girl walked up to the booth, and you couldn’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth. “Excuse me, did I hear you say Crosshair?”

The man instantly stood up straighter, a threatening gaze on his face. “What’s it to you?”

But you stood your ground and didn’t back away. “I knew someone by that name,” you said. “I was just wondering if it was the same person, as I’d like to send him a message.”

At this point, you saw the girl’s eyes widen, and you could hear your name in a quiet voice. The man stopped. “What did you say Omega?”

“This is the person who helped Crosshair,” she said excitedly. “That must be why he gave me the extra credits when he heard we were coming to this system!”

The man’s face changed instantly, the threatening expression evaporating in a second. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “But usually, people who talk about my brother aren’t exactly happy to see him.”

You laughed and introduced yourself to the two, moving away from the bustling market to talk. “Crosshair told me a lot about his brothers and sister, but he never told me any of your names.”

The man, who you learned was called Hunter, smiled. “That sounds like Crosshair for sure. He owes you a great deal, for saving his life.”

“He doesn’t owe me anything,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s just nice to know that he found what he was looking for.”

You didn’t say anything about how he left, not sure what he had told his family. “He should have still waited around to say goodbye though,” Omega said, and Hunter stopped.

“How do you know about that?” he asked, and you had the same question.

“I overheard him talking to you and Echo when he first came back and you asked him about his injuries,” she said, before turning her attention back to you. “He really likes you, you know.”

That was certainly news to you. “He does?”

Hunter nodded. “The di’kut just didn’t know what to do, and he made the decision he thought he had to.”

“I wish he would have said something,” you said softly, before you could think twice about it.

“Crosshair won’t admit it, but he feels the same way,” Hunter said.

Omega’s voice was bright as her face lit up with a realization. “You should come back with us!”

Immediately, you shook your head. “No, I don’t think that would be such a good idea,” you said.

“If you’re worried about Crosshair being mad at you, that won’t be an issue,” Hunter said. “But if you’d prefer to move on completely, I understand. We won’t say anything about seeing you here if you don’t want us to.”

You had to admit, the choice was a difficult one. And despite a knot of worry taking hold in your stomach, you eventually agreed to return to the ship with Hunter and Omega. If all went well, you certainly had enough land and resources for your family to grow by six, and if it didn’t, you could always pretend this day never happened.

Omega gave you a hug as you nodded, and soon you were walking with the two of them to the rendezvous point, anxiously staring at the sky. What if Hunter and Omega were wrong? Could you handle that embarrassment?

You wanted to run as a ship descended from the sky, but you stayed rooted in place. As the ramp touched the ground you could see three figures in the doorway, and Omega gleefully shouted across the space. “Hey Crosshair! Look who we ran into at the market!”

Crosshair’s eyes widened as he registered you standing there, and he pushed past the other two people on the platform to step onto the ground. “We’ll give you two some privacy,” Hunter said, shooing both his brothers and Omega back into the ship.

“It wasn’t my idea to come back with them,” you said quickly, still unsure if he was unhappy with the current situation or not.

“I know,” he said. “When I told them how I left, I got a lecture about how I should have said goodbye, and I knew they were right. I need to apologize for that, I didn’t want to take your aid for granted.”

“Why did you leave?” you asked, your voice quiet. “I didn’t truly imprison you, did I?”

“It was the opposite actually,” he said, shaking his head. “I liked spending time with you so much that it terrified me, because I didn’t think you felt the same way. It wasn’t fair of me to do that, but I don’t think I would have been able to resist if you asked me to stay.”

The feeling of worry in your stomach dissipated instantly, and it was replaced with a thunderous herd of butterflies. “Crosshair,” you said kindly, reaching up to softly run your fingertips across his cheek. “I would have never asked that of you, no matter how much I wanted to.”

His hand moved to rest over yours, and the feeling of warmth that overtook your body was honestly a little embarrassing. “I wanted you to ask,” he said. “More than anything. And I thought that these feelings were unimportant, that I could just move past them, but I couldn’t. Eventually it was Hunter who demanded I tell him why I was moping around all the time.”

You smiled. “Well, you’ve seen my place,” you said. “I’d be happy for you and your family to come live there, if you’d be interested.”

“Yes, we would be,” he breathed, his hands moving down to rest on your waist.

Suddenly your faces were much closer than you realized, and your gaze flickered down to his lips. It seemed that Crosshair had the same thought, because he moved even closer. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, the look on his face akin to that of a desperate plea.

Instead of torturing him any longer, you closed the gap between you two, crashing your lips into his. It was everything you’d dreamed of, the feeling of his hands resting on your waist and his lips against yours for the first time something you would remember for the rest of your days.

You were so utterly lost in each other that you didn’t hear the ramp of the ship descend again, but the gleeful shouts of Crosshair’s family did pull you two apart. “Shut up,” Crosshair growled at Hunter, whose grin was the widest of them all.

You smiled, placing a quick peck on his lips. “They’re just happy for you,” you said softly.

“It’s annoying.”

You laughed. “Come on, we can always continue this back home.”

Crosshair’s grip on your waist tightened for a moment. “That better be a promise, mesh’la.”

You just smiled as you pulled away from him, excited to extend your offer to your new family, whether they knew it yet or not.

- the end -

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#SFE24 #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x female reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #the bad batch x reader #star wars x reader

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k-tarotz · 10 months

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Pick a Pile | Where will your F/s take you on a winter date?

Since it's already December we thought of making our first winter/Christmas pac! You can of course participate in this even if you dont celebrate Christmas, if you want to if course. Choose one or multiple piles that you are drawn to and read about it! Please like, reblog and comment as its highly appreciated, thank you! <3 disclaimer; this is a general reading! these messages may not fit everyone. please take what resonates and leave the rest. Dividers & pictures aren't from us, credits to the right owners!

Kpop readings | updated personal readings | masterlist

Pile 1:

This one is giving the most "home" vibes and

therefore; your date would invite you to their house. They would decorate their house all festively with the most beautiful Christmas decorations they can find, even put up the Christmas tree. Then they would dim the lights, only let the Christmas leds of the Christmas tree on along with other decorations that have the ability to give light. They would make their bed super comfy with blankets, pillows, cute plushies and prepare hot chocolate and cookies. They would snuggle with you on said bed while laying/sitting comfortably with you there. Their arm nicely around you and what else would you be doing than..... watching Christmas movies together?! Watching all of your favorite Christmas movies and maybe even the classic ones like Kevin home alone / alone in New York, elf, the grinch and so on! It would be an incredible cozy and romantic date which would make your connection to each other stronger.

Pile 2:

Your future spouse would take you on a date to a café! But not just some kinda boring or classic one - no, it would be one that has many Christmas decorations, even small Christmas trees on every table. There would play background music, not too loud not too quite, of course it would be mostly Christmas songs. The desserts, cookies,pastries and even the hot chocolate would have Christmas motives on it. It would all look super cute and taste amazing. They would love to spoil you, asking you to ignore the prices of it as it is the season of giving. They would possibly spend hours with you there getting lost in the conversation with you and of course walking you home after it, while snow crunches under your feet. Holding your hand to feel your warmth and also just in case so they can catch you in case you slip slightly. You would have an amazing date that you wouldn't forget. Neither of you would!

Pile 3:

As for this one I feel like your future spouse would invite you over to their house to bake cookies together, if possible multiple different ones. They would enjoy baking together with you, perhaps take a tiny bit of the flour and put it on your cheek - then let out the most sweetest laugh ever. It might turn into a small but nome serious playful fight, which would end up in them pulling you suddenly closer and kissing you. While still baking with you, most likely While the cookies are in the oven, they would suddenly turn on the song "all I want fir Christmas is you" and start dancing to it, actually trying to dance together with you to it. The whole atmosphere would be so warm and lovely, both of you focused on only each other. Of course they would eat the cookies together with you after they are done, feeding you sometimes. They would praise you on it, enjoying their time with you more than anything else in the world.

That's it! Our first Christmas/winter pac ever! Feel free to leave feedback if you want to! Stay safe and take care of yourselves lovelies <3

- Candy

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simplyholl · 1 year

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Out of My System Pt 2

Summary: Loki doesn’t understand Thor’s attraction to Midgardians. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F Reader

Warnings: Smuttish thoughts. 18 + Only. Minors DNI. Eventual smut.

W/C: 1K

See my Masterlist here

Part 1

Summer was finally here, and you couldn’t be happier. You basically lived outside when you weren’t training or on a mission. You went shopping with Natasha and Wanda earlier in the week.

They convinced you to buy the skimpiest bikini you had ever seen. It was made of small scraps of red fabric that barely covered anything. You had protested that it was too revealing. But Natasha had talked you into it. She said you could just wear it around the compound. You had to admit, it did look amazing on you.

She was a bad influence, you decided as you look at yourself in the mirror. Most of your teammates were gone on a mission, so you thought today would be the perfect time to wear the barely there bikini.

You looked out your window and saw Loki sitting by the pool. His dark curls were mostly contained in a low bun. He was beautiful. There was no denying that. Sometimes you thought he had caught you looking at him a little too long. But he never mentioned it. You were sure he would tease you with a cheeky comment about it if he did.

You hurried down to the kitchen, grabbing two popsicles. One for yourself and one for Loki. You walked over to him, leaning down to give him the cold treat.

Loki had looked forward to the Summer. Thor had told him how the men would host a competition to see who was the best on the team when the new season started. He couldn’t wait to prove he was immensely better than all of them. What he didn’t take into account was your wardrobe.

It hadn’t bothered him at first. The other women dressed similarly to you. But he didn’t notice them, the way he did you. Then came last weekend when everyone had a picnic outside for some team building thing Tony came up with.

You were wearing a dress that moved up your thighs when you sat down. Your cleavage was on full display, and he knew the others were sneaking glances. He hated that he noticed. He hated that he wanted to rip their throats out because of it. He was becoming quite territorial when it came to you. He had no right to be. You weren’t his. You never would be.

The dress wasn’t the worst offender either. You owned one article of clothing that barely contained your ass. He finally worked up the nerve to ask Wanda what in the nine realms you were wearing. She called them booty shorts. A fitting name he decided. He was sure he would have to spend the rest of the season on Asgard for reprieve.

Now here you were, running up to him practically naked. He hungrily gazed at your body as you settled in beside him. He opened his snack trying to distract himself. But it was pointless. The sticky blue juices from your popsicle ran down your chin onto the swell of your breasts.

He watched as you sucked the treat into your mouth swirling your tongue around it, collecting the juices. You swallowed and Loki released the shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. The way you licked the popsicle made Loki think of how it would feel if that was his cock inside your mouth instead. That was something he shouldn’t be thinking of, not with you.

Sam who was running around the outside of the pool stopped dead in his tracks to watch you lick your fingers clean. That was it! Loki had enough. He stood up, pulling you with him.

Before you could say anything, you realized you were in Loki’s bathroom. A bathtub full of warm water was waiting for you. “Loki, what are we doing here?” He brushed a loose curl away from his face. “We were both getting so messy. I thought we could take a bath to clean up.”

“I can’t take a bath with you!” You laugh awkwardly, wondering what he was thinking. He steps into the tub settling in with his back pressed against the side. “We will keep our clothes on, darling. Unless you would rather we be naked.” He winks at you, that mischievous gleam in his eye making him impossible to resist.

You take his outstretched hand, and sit across from him. Your favorite thing about the private bathrooms in each Avenger’s rooms was that the bathtubs were big enough for multiple people. You reach for the cloth Loki had set out, but Loki grabs it instead.

“Allow me.” Loki tells you while pressing the warm cloth to your neck. He takes his time gently moving it down to your chest. He washes over the curve of your breast. You arch into him, feeling a little embarrassed. But it feels so nice to have his hands on you this way, the only thing separating you is the cloth.

His long fingers tug the bottom of the bikini top, cleaning the popsicle juice that gathered there. Your nipples harden from his touch, even though the water is warm. Your breath hitched. If he pulled on the top with a little more pressure, it would fall off you.

“Loki, Stark has prepared us a feast as reward for completing - “ Thor’s loud voice echoes off the walls as he flings the bathroom door open. You and Loki pull away from each other. The huge smile on Thor’s face is a dead giveaway that he thinks he’s interrupted something he shouldn’t have.

“So sorry, brother. I didn’t mean to intrude. You always lock your door when you have company. I assumed you were alone.” Thor glances from you failing to cover your barely clothed chest with your hands to Loki relaxing against the tub.

“I’ve never seen this much of you before, Y/N. My brother is very lucky indeed.” He stares at your cleavage one last time before he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at the two of you. “Get out!” Loki shouts at him, the green glow of his seidr dancing in his hands.

Part Three

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randomfoggytiger · 1 month

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React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (My Struggle I), Part I

For David Duchovny’s birthday, I put out a poll asking Tumblr which of his projects I should watch for the first time.

The Revival won. Welp.

I then, fool that I am, put up another poll wherein I doomed myself by including an option to watch the whole thing.

And here we are.

My Struggle I.

Oh, boy.

This post will be long because I'm laying the groundwork for the rest of the series.

MY MODUS OPERANDI

I don’t care how cute or cuddly or happy or heartfelt individual MSR moments are, popcorn will be thrown if those scenes are achieved through incomplete, inane, or nonsensical plot points. Give me 1+1=2 or give me death.

The Revival is part of a whole that includes all of Seasons 1-9 and Fight the Future and I Want to Believe. As much as I prefer to distance this series from canon, the reality that it functions as a direct follow-up remains; and it needs to be judged accordingly.

And, as always, I separate the art from the artist~.

...WELP. It’s time to face my doom.

Let's go!

MY STRUGGLE IV

The intro’s… fine. Engaging, even.

I did notice, though: the last series and Fight the Future and I Want to Believe began with the same formula: glimpses from what will be an x-files case, then straight to Scully’s perspective. Usually Mulder’s narration and POV didn’t feature until the tail-end of a two or three parter, i.e. Redux or Amor Fati or… well, even then, it was juxtaposed against Scully’s.

Scully was the voice of The X-Files-- even Chris Carter noted that her report of each episode’s casefile became a motif of the show. Mulder’s narration was rare, very rare, even in episodes that were written to focus on him.

A definite and purposed choice, to be sure. Mulder as an active agent in his own story. …OR a story that focuses on Mulder’s voice instead of Scully’s.

We shall see.

The intro continues; and it’s still engaging, possibly gripping (too bad I know where this leads)... but the music got a bit LOTR there. Is that just me? Seems… mellow, orchestral, a little more fantasy than sci-fi. Am I nitpicking? Maybe.

The BIBLE references UFOs?? Lol, no. (Unless you count the objects described in Revelations-- the book, not the episode-- but even then, those are largely considered to be drones, not UFOs.)

Chris Carter, I see you.

(Note from the future: NOW I see why the Bible bit was included-- lots of heavy-handed "God means this, Scully" in order to get her on-board to join the files. Ugh.)

…They’re really doubling down on the UFO lore, huh. All of which evaporated because of global warming, I guess.

GUYS, why couldn’t this have been about life on Earth after Colonization?????

It fits with the disaster footage, it fits with Mulder’s voiceover, it fits with the character progression from Season 9 (I GUESS), it fits with a whooooooooooole ton of other factors.

I’ve never been one for wanting Colonization in canon, but it literally would have worked for this series. There wouldn't need to be a complete wipeout of humanity, maybe just a “disaster happened, but the humans are fighting back” scenario.

And that would fit with Mulder and Scully’s "breakup", PERHAPS-- they spent so much time working, trying to save the world (she in science, he on the ground or with untainted factions who coalitioned post-Colonization) that their relationship cracks would need to be actively worked through. Not broken up so much as together and repairing.

It would also help CC and co. to avoid the tempest of modern US politics and the more mainstream conspiracies that were taking hold at that time-- a broader reach to all audiences, a "bigger picture" for everyone to unite under.

(Guys, they should have let me write for this show. …I take it back, I’d have quit after three days.)

Also: The show writers spent all their brain power on this sequence and this sequence alone, didn’t they?

Obiwan Kenobi and Military Man are going on a bus somewhere.

...On closer inspection, neither man looks like anything like Obiwan Kenobi, but the nickname is staying.

We’re back to Scully at a hospital-- not unlike I Want to Believe’s opening.

Skinner called? Oh. Didn’t know he was “here” this early.

WAIT.

Wait, wait, wait.

Scully just called up Mulder like nothing’s a big deal? He answered like nothing’s a big deal? She’s smiling over his joke from the get-go?

…And we’re supposed to believe they’re seriously broken up. Which the show will insist is the case.

David and Gillian really said, “Script? What script?” and did what they wanted. I salute them.

Also, “What’s happening out there, Scully?” is a great line to point to Mulder’s continued isolation… which the series will IMMEDIATELY toss aside because he’s, apparently, not been as much of a hermit lately? (Granted, this could be a joke at his own expense because he’s no longer claimed by ~the darkness~, but…. I don’t think the writing’s gonna be that clever, I’ll be honest.)

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Fine, I admit it.

I’m loving this so far.

And that’s gonna make me even angrier later on.

“Why doesn’t he [Skinner] just call me?”

“He doesn’t know how to reach you, Mulder. I barely know myself.”

Mulder is baffled and a tinge annoyed, Scully is amused and straight shooting.

THERE IS NO HINT, BEHAVIOR, OR MANNERISM SUGGESTING THEY’VE BROKEN UP. None. At all. He’s isn’t reluctant to answer her call, isn’t sad or withdrawn, isn’t affected by anything she’s saying other than to be teasy or poky. She isn’t hesitant to call, isn’t sad or depressed, isn’t anything other than a little pleased to dangle a juicy tidbit in front of Mulder’s face.

This is gonna follow IWTB’s ping-pong writing-- they’re fun and in-character, they’re suddenly out-of-character, they’re fun and in-character, they’re suddenly out-of-character, etc. etc. etc.-- isn’t it?

(Mulder taping over his laptop’s webcam is a great touch and not something at all that I’ve done before. At all.)

“I thought you were done with UFOs-- the ‘stranglehold they put on your very existence’, I believe you put it.”

“I’m just the messenger, Mulder.”

That’s GOOD, that’s necessary writing. That’s planting the seeds of what happened between them, what led to a cooldown or a breakup or a whathaveyou. AND STILL neither character acts as if they’ve broken up: no melancholy, no sadness, no nothing.

Mulder’s timbre became a little sardonic while quoting back her words, but that doesn’t mean they’ve broken up. If anything, that points to a bicker and line-in-the-sand between them-- him bringing up UFOs at the dinner table and her reminding him to talk to someone else about it before turning the topic to how the lettuce is growing or something.

Neither actor is performing like one would if pain and trauma and heartbreak and distance were placed between them; and that really complicates things because the breakup is built on top of the aforementioned list of struggles.

Would Mulder have dug his heels in post 2012, seeing it as a sign that “the aliens” just changed their plans? Yes.

Would Scully have seen a pursuit down that rabbit hole as a waste of time? Debatable. The Truth S9 Scully wouldn’t have-- the aliens are still out there; and they cost her months of her life, months of Mulder’s abduction, months of Mulder’s death, months of Mulder’s separation, and the ultimate cost: William’s adoption and their life on the run. Post The Truth Scully would have seen this as her quest, too: she won’t give up, she says in the finale, because he won’t.

IWTB Scully, however, would- and that's a problem.

I’ve already discussed, at length, how out-of-character Scully was in I Want to Believe (posts here.) Although Mulder doesn’t escape from the same writing blunders, she is really, really scalped: of her courage, of her will, of her determination.

Whenever Scully gave up, in canon, it was only because she thought she was holding Mulder back, or when she felt Mulder had lost his faith and trust in her. That held true in Season 9-- despite the appalling writing choices there, too-- but didn’t in IWTB.

The Revival had the perfect opportunity to factory reset the writers' mistakes: portray a wiser duo who continue to fight the fight according to their strengths, like they always have before Mulder ever met Scully. (When Mulder tells Scully to set up a meeting with Skinner, he adds, “Don’t pretend I’m going alone”-- which reinforces my point.)

But I know that's not going to happen.

Scully goes without argument-- THAT’S GOOD, THAT’S GOOD CHARACTER WRITING. At this point in the game, of course she would-- they trust each other, they have for years, they’d have reached even deeper levels after going on the run for [insert math] years. All good things!

The problem: this will create a huge conflict with her actions later.

(I’m already so disappointed.)

“Uber?”/”Hitchhiking. Relax, Scully, I’m kidding” was a fun modernization of their humor, I’ll take it.

This scene is starting to highlight the distance between them, which is all well-and-good, but feels tonally different from the previous scene. As in, their two scenes were definitely filmed on different days, in different moods, and with different intents.

She’s worried about him, with tears in her eyes; he has his walls up; there’s distance, as previously noted.

“Good for you to get out of that little house every once in a while”/”Certainly was good for you” is followed up with knowing, indulgent, pleased smiles and you expect me to believe these two are seriously broken up. Nope. I’ve seen Scully sad but amused, I’ve seen Scully too sad to be amused, but these two? This moment? Nah.

Tonally dissonant-- the IWTB problem: at-ease and close one minute, at-odds and distant the next. Hoorayyyyyy....

None of this makes sense for a long-term, permanent (as Scully infers later to someone else) breakup. Nor for a short-term, semi-permanent one. Math doesn’t math.

“I’m always happy to see you,” she says, implying he's the one who permanently pulled away… which will be contradicted later this very episode.

“I’m always happy to find a reason [to leave the house],” he says, somberly.

Both of which are odd lines.

If he’s happy to leave the house to see her… why hasn’t he?

If she’s happy to see him, always, but says a relationship between them was "impossible" (which she will later), why is Scully staring at him with heart eyes, hoping he gets better so they can continue their relationship? (And mark my words, this tone underscores her interactions with him the rest of this series.)

Tad’s here. He’s... fine. He represents the overly cautious very well. At least he hasn’t gone full Alex Jones mockumentary (...yet.)

I’ve heard criticisms that Mulder and Scully don’t act like themselves in this series, but based off the few minutes I’ve seen here… I don’t agree.

The essence is the same. Truly. Scully’s got the same face that lights up the same way, Mulder’s got the same expressions and young-at-heart humor. Neither are really melancholic. Neither are David or Gillian esque.

Perhaps that will change.

(Note from the future: OH BOY. Which Mulder and Scully are we talking here-- OG Mulder and Scully? Nope. IWTB Mulder and Scully? Yep. David and Gillian? Once or twice.)

But, again, their interactions feel… wasted. Hollow. They’re supposed to be broken up, but their breakup doesn’t contribute to their interactions or the plot. They’re supposed to have suffered and are working back to each other… but they aren’t really separated, haven’t seemed to suffer (note from future: except for one scene which comes outta nowhere), and won’t collapse back together on-screen.

They’re supposed to be wiser and more mature, but they’ll still engage in a silly will-they-won’t-they while Mulder eats up the latest UFO or conspiracy slop he’s either already engaged in or debunked [insert math] years ago and Scully clings to her cowardice like a leech.

First nagging problem: Scully smiling at Tad, Scully excusing Mulder’s mannerisms when he becomes briefly jealous, Scully making nice with a conspiracy nut.

…Isn’t that Mulder’s job? Didn't she leave because conspiracies were consuming her life? Does this mean she actually does want this life back but is she playing coy or elusive because...?

Furthermore, when Mulder popped a comment off to a witness or informant in the past, Scully never excused him-- just breezed over it professionally with another question. She’s only saying “excuse him” here because she’s taken a shine to Tad. WHY, on this post-2012 global warming green Earth, WOULD SHE?

Tad says Mulder is the X-Files, Mulder says that “book is closed”... WAIT. Wait, hold up--

Pause. Stop. Rewind.

Mulder wants to believe. Actual proof is hard to come by.

Tad thinks Mulder is the X-Files.

MULDER SAYS… *ahem*... Mulder says, “I’m afraid that book is closed.” …Which means he’s no longer into UFOs or aliens, too. SO. why did Scully LEAVE.

If that’s behind him, why aren’t they together again???? Mulder didn’t know who Tad O’Malley was a minute or so ago, meaning he’s been outta the conspiracy scene for a bit. That MEANS his departure from Conspiracyville's been long enough to patch-up his obsession and ensuing depression, I guess.

But then... what about Scully??

Because Mulder wants her to come back (already subtly established in each scene), and Scully is concerned for his welfare; but Scully thinks he’s still into UFO conspiracy and hasn’t come back because of it? BUT SHE ISN’T SHOCKED WHEN HE SAYS “I’m afraid that book is closed” MEANING SHE KNOWS HE’S PUT THAT BEHIND HIM... BUT STILL HASN’T RETURNED?

And both of them aren’t acting as if they’ve broken up, anyway, except for a pointed line of dialogue here and a brief reaction there before they yeet back to the status quo.

They’ve left that behind them, Scully says, for better or worse. And Mulder latches onto that better or worse, making a pointed barb at their breakup, but…. There’s no writing glue, just suggestion and inference; and the suggestions themselves don’t add up.

Here come the bullet points.

Season 10 posits Mulder became depressed after the aliens didn’t invade in 2012-- that’s reasonable and logical, his nature is depressive when his expectations are subverted or smashed or etc.

Season 10 also posits Scully left because Mulder became too much to deal with. That’s… not logical, since her nature is to rescue and nurture, even when Mulder’s being an actual boil on her sittin’ cheeks (ala Demons, etc., etc.)

Season 10 posits Mulder’s hard to get a hold of-- despite being in the same house the FBI helicoptered to in IWTB-- and posits it might be hard for Scully to get a hold of him-- despite the fact both characters easily got in contact, knew it was each other, and even joked about the fact it’s hard to get in contact with Mulder… which means it really isn't. (The script doesn’t catch these discrepancies, of course, pretending Mulder is very hidden away at the same ol' house he'd been discovered at in 2008.)

Season 10 says Scully doesn’t want UFOs to be part of her life anymore, that it was a stranglehold… yet she came along on a conspiracy gig without question to… what? Be around Mulder? But then, why warm up to the conspiracy guy-- an embodiment of what drove her and her partner apart?

Season 10 posits Mulder chased Scully off with his conspiracy spiraling YET ALSO states he’s put that part of his life-- conspiracies, UFOs, the X-Files-- behind him. Which implies: A. Mulder’s aaaaaaall better now and B. he put that all behind him but Scully never came home and C. Scully shouldn’t know he put that all behind him if that’s what’s keeping her away; but she does know because his declaration doesn’t take her by surprise, which means she’s still driven away and concerned for him for no discernable reason.

Season 11 posits Scully didn’t leave because Mulder became too much to deal with but because she, too, had issues to deal with. This point wasn't mentioned or hinted at in the episode that introduces their breakup, which makes that line of reasoning a complete rewrite. (Whatever. I’ll judge how well that’s executed when I get there.)

It doesn’t add up.

Are we surprised.

Five seconds after this, I had to listen to a back-and-forth between Tad O’Malley and Mulder on conspiracies and Conservatives and alien beliefs and the O’Reilly Factor and….

This seems out of touch, I’m not sorry.

When this show aired, Conservatives already had their miles-long conspiracy theories. For Mulder to be ignorant of that fact while allegedly knowing exactly who and what Tad believes while also alleging….

More bullet points!

Fox “I’m afraid that book is closed” Mulder has, supposedly, been out of the conspiracy scene.

Fox “I’m afraid that book is closed” Mulder isn’t aware that not only did 2015 Conservatives believe in aliens-- despite the fact Tad is a watered-down copy-paste of Alex Jones-- but that there were also Conservative believers in the 90s (who were a fringe in their own group, but.) This was Mulder’s expertise; and his eidetic memory isn’t likely to have tossed that info because it was no longer relevant to his life.

Fox “I’m afraid that book is closed” Mulder has supposedly not been out of the conspiracy scene-- despite saying he is-- because he does know who Tad O’Malley is-- despite not knowing who he was two minutes ago.

Mulder is assuming that Conservatives “of your credentials” don’t believe in UFOs or “9/11 false-flag conspiracies” despite people from the Left, Center, and Right publicly believing those conspiracies in 2015.

Fox “I’m afraid that book is closed” Mulder is supposed to be dismantling Tad’s grift; but he (and the writers) sound uneducated and incredibly out-of-touch during this dialogue-- as if all Conservatives were still Bush-era believers. Most were suspicious of the government by this time (they helped elect a man who ran on a “drain the swamp” campaign, after all.) Mulder’s bewilderment here is old and tired, even by 2015 standards.

This writing is flashy-- long sentences, quick back-and-forths-- but poorly constructed and badly executed.

This is also the first segment where David Duchovny is peeking through Fox Mulder; where Scully is swinging wildly between absolutely-fine-with-Mulder and we’re-no-longer-together; and where we, the audience, are being force-fed that only one side of the political aisle believes in aliens-- or the Bigger Question or whatever-- on a show that wants to poke at unfounded conspiracy beliefs.

Oh, look! Scully made a Scully-face, so everything’s good now!

(UuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH--)

Sveta. Aww, I like her--

“You don’t remember me.”

“No, I think I’d remember.”

WHAT WAS THAT.

Show writers, STOP with the romantic triangulation, it’s NOT. GONNA. HAPPEN. David doesn’t even TRY to make that romantic-ish. Yet you angle on Scully’s face as if she’s supposed to be out-of-the-loop and a tinge jealous.

WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, hoooooooooooooooooooold up.

Svetta was a dark-haired little girl Mulder interviewed after her first abduction, meaning she’s set up to be another Samantha.

So…………………. What’s with the murky jealousy issue, CHRIS. You wedged it in solely so Scully would feel jealous over Mulder? Y’know. Like I Want to Believe?

And I say Chris Carter because he wanted to play the breakup angle:

"We do it in an interesting way," Carter told The Hollywood Reporter. "We put some of the tension back in that was relieved by them being together. It added to the storytelling opportunities. It's something that I came up with; I had been thinking about it. There was always talk of [breaking them up] if we did another movie."

The first shot canon takes right between the eyes:

Scully being “familiar” with the “screen memories” abductees are given was a cool touch… except she’s never been given “screen memories.” The abductees in Jose Chung’s From Outer Space were given screen memories-- she was returned a blank slate. (Even Mulder didn’t have “screen memories” after his abduction.)

Scully poking Sveta about aliens taking her unborn fetuses seems a tad (heh) strong except all the alien-related pregnancies have been the result of government testing, not alien probes. So. If this scene followed canon's rules, her skepticism would be warranted.

But this skepticism is still odd.

Two seconds ago, she was making nice to Tad O’Malley in the car, and now she’s leading the questioning for Sveta. The odd icing on top of this odd cake is that Scully left because she didn’t want UFOs to have a stranglehold on her life, yet here she is leading an interview with an abductee.

Sveta: “I have alien DNA, for sure.”

Scully: “Have you had a doctor confirm that?”

Sveta: “No.”

Me, too, Mulder. Me, too.

Scully doesn’t question the alien DNA bit, so that’s good.

…I’ll bet everyone forgets she and Mulder have a bit lingering in their systems from the black oil and his brain thingy and residue from when she touched the ship and and and.

“Something you can test. Dana.”

What… what was that.

Honestly, what was that. Whatever mood David was conveying through Mulder, it didn’t match anything from any previous scenes, let alone this one.

Is he poking at Scully? Why? He’s not jealous anymore (if he even was.) The way he says it and her expression in response implies they have a tense back-and-forth going on, but they don’t. THEY DON’T.

We’re 13 minutes in and I could make another numerical list. But I won’t. Yet.

Back to not-Obiwan Kenobi and Military Man.

That alien’s stupid bad-looking.

Wait.

That’s not how canon said Roswell unfolded.

And the first alien shot on Earth was by Deep Throat’s hands-- that was his whole turning-point backstory.

CURSE YOU, LACK OF A SHOW BIBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

(Note from the future: All of that past canon? Fake. Faked. All lies. None of that happened.)

“What have you done??” Not-Obiwan Kenobi yells… and what have they done?

Back to Scully and Sveta.

Sveta can move things with her mind-- not all the time-- but at least Scully is listening to her claims without automatically shutting them down.

But also…

“I can move things. With my mind,” should have IMMEDIATELY had a greater impact on Scully, up-close-and-personal as she was to her son’s abilities. But nope! No reaction! Of course!

Sveta “You were together but now you’re not” is asking the right questions. I don’t even mind Sveta. I’ll bet this episode’s the last time we see her, though.

Does she contribute to anything? No. But she’s nice, so.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIT, WAIT, WAIT.

Scully diagnosed-- wait, hold up, list time.

Scully diagnosed Mulder with depression.

That killed their relationship.

…THAT killed their relationship? After everything?

The writers are going to have to explain, in detail, why that killed it.

Why does canon need to explain? Because we have a history of Scully sticking by Mulder during the worst periods of both their lives-- leaving him would have to require a very, very good reason.

And there is no indication, thus far, that Mulder’s depression drove a humungous wedge between them, forcing her to walk away. In fact, there is no indication a wedge exists between them, AT ALL-- only the odd, inconsistent word or phrase here or there that bears no weight on the plot or their ultimate decisions.

Whenever Scully left in canon, it was because she could no longer help Mulder. Season 11 will rewrite Season 10’s initial explanation but setting that aside: we’re not given any indication that she did try to help him; or that his depression was so deep and so dangerous that it drove her away.

And if it were that deep or that dangerous enough to drive her away, Scully leaving would have been the last and worst possible action she could have taken. If Mulder's mental state was in such a massive nose-dive that she couldn’t handle what he was going through, Scully-- a medical professional-- would have had him hospitalized, even temporarily against his will, because she would know (per Demons or Gethsemane or Amor Fati) that this level of depression always manifested in suicidal tendencies for her partner.

But Mulder, as per the rules laid out in this episode, never went that far in his deterioration. (Note from the future: We'll get to that.)

If he had, Skinner would have been aware of his hospitalization and wouldn’t have asked for his help; Scully would have been aware and wouldn’t have passed on the information; and Scully wouldn’t have called from the hospital with a degree of buoyancy when relaying Skinner's request to Mulder.

In short: Scully leaving = very big, very drastic measure. Mulder suffering from depression = very big, very bad consequences. Scully's nature and past actions = getting Mulder help, even if he resists at first (i.e. shooting him in the shoulder to save his life.) Mulder and Scully's partnership = unbroken, except through distrust or botched writing.

“And you have a child together.”

Wow, that wasn’t clunky at all.

SCULLY STICKS SVETA HARD WITH A NEEDLE BECAUSE SVETA MENTIONS WILLIAM, darkly saying "That's enough", SO SVETA WOULD KNOW SHE DID IT ON PURPOSE.

I’m… so disgusted. Like, eck. Urk. Awful.

Telling Sveta to back off, strongly, would be in-character; USING PAIN TO DO SO is…. So wrong on so many levels. Scully never utilized medicine to inflict pain or injury on her enemies.

Wow, this grossed me out. You know why?

Scully diagnosed Mulder with depression and left. At first glance, that seem like an out-of-character action that the writing can salvage later by this or that means.

BUT THEN, Scully inflicts pain on Sveta for mentioning William, leaving the audience with the impression that she’s vindictive.

Which then connects the dots between “vindictive” and “left Mulder when he was diagnosed with depression.”

And since we, the audience, haven’t been given a stronger reason for how Mulder’s depression got that bad or why she didn’t help him through it, we’re then left with a sour impression of Scully’s character.

The writers then try to imply Sveta was spilling out Scully’s personal secrets to prove that her powers were real, but that still doesn’t give Scully the right to abuse her power. Especially because a traumatized woman was trying any method possible to be believed.

And the fact that Sveta is also victim of the government weaponizing science and medicine makes me even angrier at Scully.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, BOY, another helicopter outside the Unremarkable House, my favorite part of IWTB....

Mulder’s never seen… an alien replica vehicle.

Oh, my mistake: “No. Never. Not like that.” Covering all the bases, I see. Y’know, in case the writers FORGOT MULDER SAW ONE in SEASON 1, EPISODE 2.

OH, LOOK, he’s got his wonder face back, everything’s aaaaaaaaaaaaall better now!

Running on free energy they’ve had since the 40s, sure Jan. Whatever you say.

This just feels so old. Like. Tech we haven’t had since the 40S, GUYS, GET IT, BIG MONEY CORPOS KEPT IT FROM US. Yeah, we got it.

And the flashbacks to Not-Obiwan Kenobi just walking off with an alien corpse because Military Man didn’t… see… value in studying… it. I guess.

Scully doing “God’s work” giving kids ears because their biology neglected it.

I admit, that’s an intriguing window into her perspective of God vs. science, and how she sees a person’s biology separate from God messing them over or messing them up just because. I dig it.

(Note from the future: This will be used as a plotline club rather than a nuanced discussion of her faith.)

Mulder being the most challenging relationship she’s ever had-- “and the most impossible”-- is a weird line. Because yes, it’s true that their relationship is challenging; but her fervor at impossible is the only time in this episode we see an adversarial tendency, DESPITE My Struggle I trying to drum up moments to prove TENSIONS still LINGER (they don't.)

It’s IWTB all over again. Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

“Yeah. I got that impression.” Tad says, and Scully’s hurt because she thinks Mulder gave Tad that impression of her.

So. So. Wait.

Scully lied when she stated “It’s impossible” because she didn't like Tad poking into her private affairs?

But she sounded truly convinced their relationship was "impossible" while saying it.

So, she was either angry or still confused about her emotions-- which is fine, Scully's not always in-tune with her inner workings-- when Tad replied, "I got that impression."

Which explains why she was so hurt at Mulder's seeming rejection.

Because she thinks Mulder’s behavior led Tad to that conviction.

Which means CC just wants Mulder and Scully to be caught in a miscommunication fic.

Also, why is Tad so sad about this? Were they his OTP, or is he pretending to sympathize to get in Scully’s pants? Because that’d be crummy, Chris, to have her be overly nice to Tad only for him to try to twist that into an opening as the new conspiracy guy on the block.

On a lighter note, Chris Carter said Mulder and Scully could still get it in their 50s, so there’s that.

HE DID, HE DID SET SCULLY UP TO BE PURSUED BY TAD--

WHAT. WHAT. WHAT WHAT WHAT--

KNOCK IT OFF, CHRIS.

Poor Sveta. She’s gonna be butchered in this script, isn’t she?

The series is EATING up vast amounts of time with very little scale or grounding. For all I know, a day or a week could have passed.

It’s so, so badly paced.

Mulder’s investigating now, without Scully, because he noticed Sveta had a tell during the interview.

Um.

Sure, that’s a Mulder thing to do.

Oh, wait. This is the “work of men” realization.

The dialogue between Mulder’s questions and Sveta’s answers are really disjointed, as if they’re mildly talking past each other-- another aspect of IWTB I couldn’t stand.

Welp, at least it’s easy to prove they were both written by the same people.

The second shot-in-the-head for canon:

“Sveta, who took your babies?”

“Men.”

“Men? Humans? You saw their faces.”

Also, Sveta’s babies are referred to as her babies, but William-Jackson isn’t Scully’s baby despite sharing half her DNA but Emily Sim was Scully’s baby despite also only sharing half her DNA.

It’s a mess.

Well… Mulder doesn’t seem too surprised here that men were involved in her abductions (I mean, he's long since been aware the government was involved from day one, so.) It’d be really stupid if the writing made him surprised about this later, wouldn’t it?

…Wouldn’t it?

Another poorly constructed set of lines:

“I haven’t worked for them [the government] in years.”

“But you always wondered… if they were lying to you, too.”

No, he didn’t wonder-- he believed it.

A wonky way to address his old skepticisms, for sure.

JUST AFTER I NOTED THAT MULDER DIDN’T LOOK SURPRISED AT SVETA'S REVELATION, HE CALLS UP SCULLY AND MAKES A BIG DEAL ABOUT IT BEING A CONSPIRACY OF MEN.

I knew this was coming, but maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan that was so, so poorly handled.

SCULLY WAS GETTING (sort of) WINED AND DINED BY TAD O’MALLEY??????????????

I HATE IT HERE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHAT IS HAPPENING, WHAT IN THE WORLD AND WHY, HOW COULD YOU BE SO EASILY FLEECED, DANA, THIS ISN’T AN ED JERSE PARALLEL BECAUSE YOU THINK MULDER DOESN’T WANT YOU, THIS IS STUPID, THIS IS THIS IS THIS IS

WHAT.

I thought Scully had dated Tad O’Malley in the past (sometime after the breakup) but this is worsefarworse.

SVETA IS THE KEY TO EVERYTHING, I’M SO TIRED.

“Mulder, where are you going?” sounds exactly like Scully, and now I’m mad Gillian didn’t use that voice for the rest of the show (voice recovery aside....)

I KNEW SKINNER WAS BEHIND GETTING THEM BACK. He just calls up Scully to call Mulder up, then just unlocks the old office when Mulder wants to get back in. 110% Skinner thought this would help his buddy Mulder. And he’s not wrong.

Wait.

Did Skinner put in more effort to save Mulder from his mental health struggles (per this My Struggle I episode) than Scully??????

Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-- my brain is broken.

The hold on Skinner’s face while he says “Can you tell me what this is about” was way too long.

Also, don’t try to play coy with me, Skinman.

Now the camera’s zooming around and losing its “X-Files” feel by being too… modern.

Skinner telling Mulder to calm down is the only time in canon where I agree with him. Mulder’s just spouting and demanding and not really making clear sense and this is why you don't let Mulder back into his basement without Scully by his side, Skinner-- don’t you remember that lesson?

Skinner telling Mulder to calm down then saying he doesn’t take orders from him only for Mulder to say “Who do you take orders from?”, ugh.

GUYS, THIS WAS RESOLVED IN SEASON. 2. BECAUSE MULDER KNEW MEN WERE BEHIND THE CONSPIRACY SINCE SEASON 1, EPISODE 2; AND SKINNER SINCE SEASON 2, EPISODE ASCENSION.

BECAUSE SKINNER’S ALREADY HAD HIS LOYALTY TESTED AND THIS IS HURTING MY BRAIN MAKE IT END.

I’m not even 25 minutes into this, help.

“Why do you think I called you? Because I was looking out for you, because I’ve always looked out for you.” Is… is Skinner the only character who’s progressed? That’s exactly what he would do-- he’s acting sensibly, rationally, and in-character... and more mature, more veteran, than his agents.

I know the Revival is supposed to be “Mulder and Scully all grown-up” but none of their actions have been intelligent, measured, or informed by their age or life experience. It’s a farce that I hope future episodes will rectify.

“A decade of my life--” Mulder rants and kicks his poster like a toddler AND YOU KNEW ALL THIS INFORMATION FROM SEASON 1, MULDER. NONE OF THIS IS NEW. WWWWWWWWWWWWWWHAT IS THIS.

I can’t imagine how disappointed philes were when they tuned into this episode. Well... I can because of how I feel; but at least I knew, roughly, how bad it would be going in.

This is worse.

Skinner: “You’re blaming me for that?”

Mulder: “No, I’m blaming myself. I’m sure they lied to you, too.”

This isn’t a revelation, chump.

At least Skinner confirms my theory: “There hasn’t been a day since you’ve left that I haven’t reached for my phone to call you, Mulder, wishing you were still down here.”

Feral Mulder is touched.

“Since 9/11--” OH NO, WHY ARE WE GOING THERE “--this country’s taken a big turn and in a very strange direction.”

Guys. Guys. This isn’t… this… what.

“Now they police us, spy on us, and tell us that makes it safer--” CAN THE WRITERS GET OFF A SOAP BOX FOR FIVE SECONDS. Of course it isn’t safer to be unnecessarily policed or spied on, but the answer isn't just "boo, the government!" What… why… my brain’s melting, I feel it deteriorating.

This, again, feels so Bush-era. Like, whoever wrote this didn’t update their mentality.

Also, the camera shots and cuts are weird. Holding too long, zooming out at “pause and take THAT in” moments, focusing on Mulder’s phone while he silently calls up Skinner to prove a point… it’s supremely unsubtle.

Back to Tad, I don’t care. You did this to yourself, Scully, cozying up only to be used as a name drop on his show. Stupid.

Is Scully gonna be shocked she has alien DNA? She shouldn’t be.

But then again, Mulder shouldn’t be shocked this has all been a work of men, so.

She’s expecting-- no, hoping-- for a call from somebody named Mulder.

Sure, they’re broken up with hard feelings. Sure. Absolutely.

Is this old man Not-Obiwan Kenobi?

Of course.

At least Mulder seems old hat at this informant business.

But of course, he’s “not even close” to putting it all together.

Stupid.

WAIT.

The countdown was WRONG-- Mulder states it began, not ended in 2012, meaning he's believed this theory for some time. Meaning... why was he so depressed after 2012? Why are there still depression concerns in 2015?? Seriously, what's with his depression if the 2012 Colonization was allegedly the cause of it but there is no Colonization and the clock's simply been reset????

WHY WAS HE DEPRESSED IF HE RECONFIGURED THE COUNTDOWN. WHAT.

Mulder: "Not by aliens, not with aliens, but by a conspiracy of men--"

“You’re wasting my time.” Tell him, old man Not-Obiwan Kenobi!

“Ten years ago, you came to me--”

Wait, ten years ago? What, 2005? The guy showed up while Mulder was on the run? And Scully never… knew about this?

There were no aliens lighting each other on fire??????????????????? WAIT, I NEVER HEARD THIS INFORMATION.

THERE WERE NEVER ALIENS, AT ALL???????????????????? Like, AT ALL?????

The writers are saying that Scully's experience on Ruskin Dam in Season 5 was not two warring alien factions BUT TWO GROUPS OF MEN LIGHTING EACH OTHER ON FIRE, OR GIVING EVERYONE FALSE MEMORIES OF ALIENS LIGHTING EACH OTHER ON FIRE, OR...??????

hONESTLY.

Let's be real specific for a second: Chris Carter expects us to believe that the ENTIRE mytharc from the original show was ALL faked; that there were no aliens, ZERO, ZILCH; and that CSM and Deep Throat and all the others created elaborate schemes JUST to manipulate MULDER because the aliens weren't a threat from the start????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? DON’T BELIEVE YOUR LYING EYES. THEY WERE ALL MEN IN SUITS.

Like… do you realize how stupid that is? How actually, unfathomably stupid that is? It’s not just “the aliens didn’t invade because of global warming,” no, it’s “they were never a problem to begin with, we just manipulated Mulder into believing they were because… because he’s so important, I GUESS.”

Roswell’s also a smokescreen, of course.

Y’know how, during the 90s, DD thought The X-Files was a stupid sci-fi show? If he thought each mytharc plot was as bad as this one, no wonder he wanted to bail.

Oh, by the way, the global warming explanation is part of a theory: the fascist elites will dominate the world and escape from consequences into space, leading the rest of humanity to die by a globally warmed planet. The aliens weren't chased off by global warming because they were never a factor to begin with.

Wow.

I CAUGHT A CONTINUITY ERROR!

Scully shows up at his place in her uniform from yesterday, panicked, like she’d just run from Tad’s side to see what happened despite her saying over a day has passed.

Going to ignore his “What are you doing here, Scully?” because we’ve ping-ponged back to the out-of-character Mulder that the writers use when it’s time to remind everyone he and Scully are broken up.

It’s IWTB all over again, I’m so tired.

They’re talking past each other and he’s touching her shoulders now because he needs her to trust him and yadda yadda yadda.

It’s soooo, sooooo, soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo highschool, I’m sorry. This is Riverdale. This is [insert whatever teen series you want to watch.] These are teenagers masquerading as adults, for the angst.

None of this holds up, their emotions shift left and right without provocation, things just happen, and there is no strand of continuity stringing anything together.

Scully trying to talk Mulder down from further pursuit doesn’t make sense because, AGAIN, she’s the one who's always gone back to the files even when he walks away; and every time he’s given up, or wanted to, SHE'S called him back and held him accountable and kept him going.

This is the Scully from IWTB with no gumption of her own, who denies her leaps forward because of plot, plot, plot.

Guys, I’ve been religiously dosing myself with caffeine (via chocolate), but my body keeps trying to make me go to sleep because it’s so uninvested. I don't even need sleep.

“This is my life, this is, this is everything I believe in--” HOW. MANY. TIMES. Has he said this before. WHEN HAS THAT LINE EVER WORKED ON SCULLY.

But that's beside the point: "this" was no longer his life after Amor Fati, by his own choice. Closure brought him closure, but he was already spittin' walk-away talk by Requiem, chose to leave in Vienen, and insisted Scully stay gone in Alone. In Season 9, it was Scully who had to beg him into hiding to pursue the Truth or whatever; and it was Scully who brought him the case in IWTB and Scully who relayed Skinner's request and tagged along both times until she got uncomfy and decided never mind, too hard.

Y’know? This claim gets to me because it’s a lie. A lie so blatant that 90s Mulder would have thrown hands over it, a lie so baseless that it erases his declaration in the hallway:

“I don’t know if I want to do this alone. I don’t even know if I can.” And every time Mulder yells his “THIS IS MY LIFE”, he erases that part of his past, the part that willingly left the files or the big Truth or the next chase to save Scully’s life or to keep her by his side.

Chris Carter said Mulder and Scully were The X-Files post The Truth… but I guess he keeps conveniently forgetting that. More accurately, he keeps making MULDER forget that, in spite of all evidence in Mulder’s history and personality to the contrary.

It infuriates me.

“Tad O’Malley is a charming man--” get outta here.

Now Scully’s been played the fool so she’s going to think Mulder’s being toyed around with by a social media sociopath. You’re an idiot, Scully.

You’re an idiot, Mulder.

You expect us to be idiots, writers.

Here’s some ham-fisted “Fate” dialogue for you, *ahem*:

Scully: “How do you know he’s not playing you, he’s a player!” (You would know, Scully.)

Mulder: “He’s a Godsend!”

Mulder’s not a believer in God, BUT this is also supposed to refer to the God conversation Scully and Tad had in the hospital, which will inadvertently make Scully ~believe~ again.

“What are you talking about?” I’m with ya there, Scully. I’m with ya, there.

Scully’s trying to insist Mulder's on a verge of a breakdown, which… UGH.

This scene implies Mulder hasn’t had a breakdown or a break from reality YET-- Scully spends the episode constantly concerned for his health and begging him, here, to watch what where he's stepping because he’s on the verge of spiraling.

Which means he hasn't spiraled, because she's afraid of what would happen to him IF he did.

MEANING that there wasn’t an inciting factor that made her leave: no alcoholism, no outbursts, no nothing. He just became depressed, probably withdrawn, and wouldn’t change; so, she left.

Do you realize what that means, per this episode? It means Scully ANTICIPATED a breakdown and left BEFORE it happened. Then hoped he’d get better before it did.

Which breaks the established morals of her character. If she had been able to help, she would have stayed. If she hadn’t been able to help, she would have found another way to help him, even if it involved calling in a third party against his will. Instead, she withdrew and hoped he would get better BEFORE he reached a breaking point-- essentially, leaving him to an impending breakdown while hoping and praying against it.

This makes her decision to leave a mark of weak character-- not because she was a woman who left her depressed husband, but because Dana Scully, whose character we amply know, left. It checks none of the boxes she'd have to clear first before choosing to take one step out the door.

All the fic I’ve read to justify their breakup-- and make no mistake, CC wrote her to say “as your friend” intentionally-- or time apart or whathaveyou had Scully reach a breaking point. Because, of course! That's logical. But here, in canon-- in black and white-- that didn’t happen.

We, the audience, have to create a plausible scenario in our minds to justify the steps she took. Because. it. Is. not. In. canon (as per this episode.)

Now Scully’s gonna get jealous of Sveta, I’m so done. Riverdale, uuuuuuuuugh.

Mulder just lets Scully walk away because Scully thinks he wants Sveta but “Sveta is the key to everything” and if Scully wants to misunderstand that she should have more trust in him, I guess, and I NEED A RESPIRATOR.

He just says “Scully” once and lets her huff off.

TAD’S BACK, GO AWAY.

WAIT, TAD STOPS HER BEFORE SHE LEAVES.

Mulder: “I would have invited you, Scully, but I didn’t think you would come.”

That’s…

That’s….

Let’s break down this stupidity:

Scully shows up.

Mulder had Sveta in the house because he was calling her and O'Malley for a group meeting.

When Scully becomes nearly hysterical over his safety, he doesn’t reason with her, just spouts like a lunatic.

When she misreads the Sveta situation and stomps off, he lets her go with a weak, “Scully"--

--because he knew Tad was right behind her and was pulling in to stop her from leaving.

Because Tad and Sveta were invited but Scully was not.

And Scully was not invited because.

Because she might not show up.

I’m just preaching to the choir at this point, continuing on.

Scully gave in, just like that. Guess she’s not leaving, anymore.

She’s so, so… spineless. Has been since Season 9, has been a BIT since Season 8 (though that was at least justified and kept to a bare minimum.)

I’m just. So sick of passive Scully.

I HATE THOSE STINGER NOISES NOW.

It’s always, “You can't let this information out because these men work in secrecy”/”What is it?”/”You’ll see”; then stinger; then we, the audience, are immediately shown what it is.

No suspenseful build-up.

Tad: “Then why are you [Scully] here?”/”Scully: “Mulder, what are you up to?”/Mulder: *knowing look*/stinger/next scene.

KNOCK IT OFF ALREADY.

“Implanting of alien embryos”-- so Sveta’s babies weren’t her babies.

So Scully’s baby wasn’t her baby.

But Emily was her baby but William isn’t.

Sure, Jan.

In spite of this information, the Revival will paint William as their son until it doesn’t; despite, again, stating from day one that the alien babies are implanted embryos and not biological babies.

So, these two boneheads should have suspected that William wasn’t theirs, anyway.

Even though William is theirs because the CSM timeline doesn’t add up, which they would have mathed in their heads by the time little William was snuggled in their arms.

It’s all so stupid.

Why does this feel so fearmongery about the government? And I’m not going to sit here and say the government should be trusted-- it has a VERY bad history, I'm aware. But this is “my first conspiracy” level of worldbuilding.

Did the writers think it was clever to set O’Malley up as a bad actor then reveal he was a good actor, modeling him after the notorious Alex Jones only to point and jeer, “HAH, you assumed! He’s actually on Mulder’s side!”

Because that’s not genius, that’s laziness.

Scully only now decides to inform everyone Sveta has no evidence of alien DNA? So, what, she was never going to tell them unless Mulder kept being, what, crazy?

“They got to her” says Mulder about Sveta, but Scully LITERALLY SAID she had no alien DNA, so what was Sveta supposed to believe???????? That Tad O'Malley wasn't using her for as a hoax???

Mulder ran all the way to her house, or ubered then ran, or whatever… and she’s gone, of course.

Poor Sveta.

Tad O’Malley’s Truth Site is gone, oh, noooooo.

Look, I’ll always be against censorship. But this is sending so many odd and mixed signals that it’s creating craaaaaaaaaaaaazy levels of dissonance.

Mulder wrote “Don’t Give Up” in Scully's car dust….

Riverdale.

Mulder presents the global warming = no aliens theory?

I’m so tired.

WAIT, SCULLY BELIEVES MULDER'S THEORY NOW THAT HER BOY TAD’S BEEN PULLED OFF THE NETWORK.

“We need to find her [Sveta], Mulder,” Scully insists.

Hold on, prediction time: Scully only changed her mind because this case now involves her-- i.e. only extending empathy to Christian (a boy that reminded her of William) and not to the string of missing, possibly murdered, women in IWTB.

OF COURSE. Her results for Sveta ended up being wrong AND HER OWN GENOME HAS ALIEN DNA IN IT, TOO.

You selfish, self-centered clone of Dana Scully.

Scully truly hasn’t recovered since… Season 9, let’s be real, where she told Mulder to leave then spent the whole year crying over his absence. In IWTB, she brought Mulder a case then left him when he wouldn’t stop his pursuit (to SAVE. LIVES.) And in the Revival, she called Mulder and the gang crazy until her own genome showed alien DNA.

Hate this, hate this, HATE this.

Also, yeah, she already knew she had alien DNA in the OG series, moving on.

Oh, and now they get a call from Skinner just when Scully says someone has to stop the bad guys.

OF COURSE.

Remember the God convo from earlier, guys???? GOD. FATE. SOMETHINGSOMETHINGSOMETHING.

You had ONE good idea to explore-- how Scully views God vs. the aberrations of biology-- and then just... used it as a convenient club to beat in the “God/Fate means for us to do this” instead.

“Scully, are you ready for this?”

“I don’t know there’s a choice.”

Can’t someone PLEASE just explore her faith with nuance? PLEASE?

Sveta's DEAD???????? I’M SO MAD, I liked her!

YOU FAILED HER, SCULLY.

YOU FAILED MULDER, SCULLY.

WHY DOES SCULLY HAVE TO KEEP FAILING PEOPLE????????????

Skipping the CSM scene because I don’t care, the END.

CONCLUSION

How does Scully’s mischaracterization keep reaching new lows?

How does Mulder become less wise with age?

How is Skinner the only mentally mature character here?

I’m so tired.

#txf #React #Revival #A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try #Revival Reviler's first-time watch through #My Struggle I #mine #first-time watch through #Part I #x-files #xfiles #the x files #Mulder #Scully #Tad O'Malley #Sveta #S10 #xf meta #thoughts

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melanieph321 · 15 days

Text

Ruben Dias x Reader - Not Ready Part 2/12

+18

Part 3 and Part 4 are out on my Patreon for FREE!

Readers sister dies in a tragic car accident, leaving reader and her boyfriend Ruben in the urgent custody of her niece and nephew. Readers life is suddenly flipped upside-down since having children hadn't been the plan for her and Ruben's life together. At least not now when his football career was reaching great new heights.

Enjoy! 💞

"So you're a...."

"Puppy mom. Jupp. That's what the ladies at the park call me."

"Well, damn." Your sister laughed. "Who would have thought?"

FaceTiming her on a Saturday morning was always as entertaining and chaotic. While you held up your new puppy for your sister to see, your niece and nephew Emmy and Vale fought each other for a chance to also get to see the dog.

"Kids kids, please." Your sister pleaded. "You're scaring the puppy."

"No, it's okay. He's still sleeping." You assured. The little pup sitrred in the palm of your hand. He had grown so big during the few weeks you've had him. By now he could run around the apartment for hours on end.

"Auntie, Y/N, when can we come and see him." Your niece Emmy asked, but was pushed out of view by her little brother.

"What's his name Auntie, Y/N. Tell us his name!"

"I asked her first." Emmy groand and soon the children were fighting again.

"Hey, hey!" You shouted from your end. "Quit it you too!"

They settled down immediately to their mother's relief. "Thank you. Now you see what I have to deal with everyday."

You beamed at your screen as all three of them appeared with their cheeks squeezed together in order to fit into the small frame.

You tilted your phone, once again showing off the sleeping puppy. The children gasped in delight.

"His name is Iker." You smiled. "And hopefully you can all come and see him during your next school break."

"Yay!" The children erupted in joyful cheers, spilling out in the kitchen and around they're mother.

"Remind me to buy you a birthday gift." She smiled.

"No. Absolutely not. You owe me nothing sis. You've practically raised me since I was a baby. I owe my life to you."

"Well, that's very kind of you to say. Although true, I really want to give you something for your birthday. It's not everyday you turn twenty-five."

"Ugh, please don't remind me."

"Remind you of what?" Ruben said, walking into the kitchen, dressed in a two piece Manchester City tracksuit.

"How old I am." You said, shifting your phone for Ruben to see that you were in a FaceTime call with your sister.

"Oh. Hi Liza. Didn't see you there."

"Hello, Ruben. I see you're ready for the big game."

Ruben approached the kitchen table where you sat, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. He leaned towards your phone, making sure that his Man City badge was visible on the screen. "Trust me Liza, City will bring it home this season once again."

"You wish." Liza snorted "Chelsea's got it together this year. I'll bet my money on that."

"Well don't bet too much of it."

"Ha ha."

Ruben moved away from the screen but just then Vale popped up. "Hi Uncle Ruben. Do you want to see my tooth." He held his mouth open with his hands, showing off his gums.

"Hi buddy." Ruben returned to the screen, his chin now resting on your shoulder. "I heard you got a visit from the tooth fairy not too long ago. Looks like she got you good, eh."

You nudged him with your elbow. Ruben chuckled, and turned to nibble at your ear.

"Just kidding buddy. You can barely tell that your tooth is missing. I promise. "

Again, your elbow found Ruben's ribcage.

"Looks like I've got to go." He groand. "Say hello to your sister for me."

"Ruben!" Emmy popped up on the screen at the mention.

"Hi sweetheart. How are you?"

"Good. Are you going to play football today?"

"Yes, I am. I was just on my way." He said, looking at you with a hand rubbing his stomach.

"Well.....then we've only got one thing to say?"

"Oh yeah, and what is that?" Ruben turned back to the screen. The children, including your sister, backed up for him to see all three of them while they chanted: "CHELSEA! CHELSEA!" And then bursting into a heartfelt laughter before hanging up the phone.

"I'm so sorry, Ruben."

"Are you?" His cheeks blossomed. "Are you really?"

"Yes." You said, but struggled to hold in your own laughter. "It's just that they're such hard core Chelsea fans. My whole family is."

"But you're not, right?"

"Right."

He leaned in and kissed your lips. "Good. I'll see you at the game."

"Bye bye papa." You held up the dog as Ruben left the kitchen. He blew you both a kiss before leaving the apartment to yourself.

Nevertheless, you didn't have time to do much before the game started. You made sure to walk Iker before you left him with a sitter a.k.a, Laleh. Who insisted on calling you while you were at The Etihad stadium, watching Man City's season opener game against Chelsea.

"So, a dog instead of a ring, eh?"

"Stop it Laleh, we've been over this."

"Over what?" She barked. Or it was Iker who barked, you couldn't tell sitting amongst the cheering fans.

"If Ruben wanted to propose to me he would have." You said. "There is no need to rush things. Besides, the two of us owning a dog is already enough commitment."

"Are you sure he sees himself as an owner and not just you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he bought you the dog as a gift. That makes you the sole owner of Iker not Ruben."

"It does?"

"Mhm. Seems like he tricked you girl."

"Stop it Laleh." You sighed. "Can't you be happy for me? Just this once?"

Again someone barked.

"No." Laleh muttered. "Not if it makes me the babysitter to a little beast. Is he even potty trained?"

"Oop, got to go girl, the game is starting." The game was actually coming to end, with Man City having butchered Chelsea with a 2-0 victory. A result that Ruben would be more than pleased with.

"You feel so good baby. So tight and so wet."

You came home that night with Ruben practically escorting you towards the bedroom. There he did unspeakable things to you while riding off the high of his team's exhilarating first victory of the season.

"I love you so much, baby. Have I told you that?"

Things slowed down towards the end, with Ruben's cock still buried deep inside of you, however, his bare hips rolled against you slowly, savoring every moment that you took him into you.

"I love you so fucking much." He groaned into the crook of your neck, bottoming out. "I want us to stay like that forever, me, buried deep inside of your pussy."

"Yes, forever." You mumbled, drunk from the spine ripping pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel so good baby, so...fucking good." His release came in floods, the condom he wore filling up at the tip. Your walls clench around Ruben's wide shaft and soon you too rode the hills of your back arching orgasm. The two of you then lay quiet in the night. Unmoveable, but still attached to each other beneath your hips. Ruben didn't pull out until he was completely lank, tightening a knot around the condom before throwing the rubber into the nearest bin. The two of you then cuddled each other until you fell asleep, Ruben drifting deeper into sleep than you did.

It was lucky that Ruben did not wake up when your phone vibrated against the nightstand, pulling you out of your brief slumber.

"Hello, Emanuel?" You rubbed your tired eyes at the sight of his name lighting up your screen. Emanuel was the name of your sister's husband, the father of your niece and nephew.

"Y/N....is that you?"

"Emmy?" You perked up at the sound of her sniffles. "Emmy what's wrong?"

"Daddy won't stop crying."

"What?" A sudden fear clenched your heart. "Is something wrong with your dad? Where's mom?"

"She's not coming back."

"Emmy, please. You're scaring me." You sat up. "Please, put mommy on the phone."

The escalation of your niece's cries sparked through your phone. "Daddy is crying because he says that mommy is not coming back. She's never coming back."

Part 3 and Part 4 are out on my Patreon for FREE!

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine

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cottoncandy-cult · 2 months

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Necessary Steps

Shiva x Daughter! Reader

Shiva lounged sleepily in his garden; his wives were doing their own activities in the various parts of his home in the heavens. His children were all out and about as well, aside from one exception. Resting on Shiva's chest was his youngest child, his baby girl. She was always with him; the little girl was quite attached to her father and some days no one could calm her but him. (Y/n) wasn't usually too fussy, so the days that she would have her fits were met with patience and usually compliance from the large god's end. Shiva knew when to discipline his children, but when he looked at her chubby little cheeks, he felt like there wasn't any particular reason he had to leave her home that day. Of course, the other gods knew better than to comment on him carrying the baby girl about Valhalla, he was more than willing to throw 3 out of 4 hands if he felt particularly embarrassed. Today hadn't been one of (Y/n)'s fussy days though, instead it was a quiet and slow day. When Shiva found his baby girl playing alone in her room, he decided it was nap time. So, he had been quick to scoop her up, bringing her outside to enjoy the weather. Of course, little (Y/n) didn't complain, all that could be heard from her were the sweet coos and giggles that soothed any stress Shiva may be carrying.

Shiva had spent a few minutes finding a safe and quiet place away from the hustle of the home as the servants went about their cleaning, once he had found a place he deemed suitable, Shiva l got them situated in the soft cool grass. He had decided to help her tucker herself out by practicing her walking, so he stood on his knees and used his hands to keep her stable and help her walk through the grass. 2 of his large hands held her sides in a gentle grip, he treated all his kids with a gentle hand but (Y/n) was just so small he couldn't help but treat her like porcelain. His other 2 hands hovered close, letting her tinier hands grip onto his fingers as he allowed her to lead him where she wanted to go. Though it didn't take long for her to decide to simply sit down and play with her father's massive hands, the tiny girl babbled away while squeezing and tugging on his fingers. This went on for a while, Shiva quietly playing with his daughter in this solitary corner of the garden. "Such a bright little soul you are princess, papa's gonna be kicking all kinds of butt when you get older." He chuckled while gently poking her cheek, his grin widening as she giggled and swatted at his hand. When she finally yawned, he felt his shoulders relax, he had earned his nap for the day. Carefully he lifted her into his arms and lowered himself backwards, large and muscular frame resting on the cool grass as a soft tiny form was nestled against the firm muscle of her father's chest. The little girl yawned once more, tiny eyes shutting as her pudgy cheek squished against the center of Shiva's chest. He allowed one of his large hands to rest gently over her back, more than able to cover her body with his gentle warmth.

2 of Shiva's arms crossed behind his head as the other lie across his stomach, all his eyes shut while the two of them basked in the cool warmth of the early summer day. The weather was often nice in heaven, while not immune to storms and seasons the more severe weather was far and in between. But this day in particular felt especially nice to the powerful god, as he basked in more than the sunlight. His thumb stroked along his daughter's spine, a soothing and loving gesture. Shiva loved all his wives and children dearly and fairly; he had special moments with each and every one of them that he kept close to his heart. But these moments with his youngest felt special, the other kids had never really had a preference for who had been caring for them when they were babies. But then came little (Y/n) who never failed to make Shiva feel like the most important thing in the world, she was a loving child but when it came to her father it was like no one else could compete. Even on the tough days, her love of him made him feel like he had to have done something right in the past to end up with such a child. He often compared her to sunshine, as she was pure and nonjudgemental. It didn't matter what he had done in his past, it didn't matter if he lost his temper during a meeting and threatened another god that day, nothing mattered to his baby girl because to her he was without fault. Of course, his wives and other children offered plenty of love and support, but as they get older and mature, he knows they have their own thoughts and opinions based on logic and don't always voice what they truly think of certain situations. But (Y/n) didn't have logic yet, she didn't have the independence to form of a real opinion on anything. And sometimes that soothes part of Shiva that feels shame when dealing with other adults, they saw his faults and even if they did not hold them against him, they still gave Shiva a sense of shame and made him feel judged.

So sometimes he valued his daughter's innocence and youthful ignorance, sometimes it meant the world to him that she didn't know how he could be sometimes. That she had yet to witness the parts of himself he considered shameful, he hoped she never would see that side of him. He wanted to temper himself by the time she's old enough to understand, he doesn't want to make a fool of himself and lose the innocent love she had for him. He could never say it out loud, but his youngest made him want to do better. He knew his self-control wasn't always the best and he sometimes got a little tripped up in his ego, sure he was a god but there was still a time and place for certain behaviors and despite his age he still sometimes acted like a defiant teen testing boundaries. He didn't want his daughter to end up a chaotic handful, he knew it could get dangerous for her if she ended up too much like him. So, he wanted to set a better example, the only reason the other kids weren't feral had been because of his wives. But (Y/n)'s desire to be near her father made things different, it meant she was always watching him and how he behaved. It meant he had to be more concerned with her safety than his ego, so he had to do better or risk her life and future. "You really have left me no choice… what a pain…" He sighed, looking at his sleeping baby girl with a soft grin that no one but her would ever see. It would be hard to change his tendencies, he had been set in his ways for thousands of years. But it was about time he put in the work and prove why he alone stands at the top of the Hindu pantheon; he is not only the best fighter of his pantheon but he's also the best father. And he won't let anyone forget that.

#fluff #x reader #fem reader #x daughter reader #daughter reader #record of ragnarok #shiva fluff #shiva x reader #shiva x fem reader #shiva fanfic #Shiva #candy cult vault

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skeletal-butterflyy · 4 months

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D&D subtext in Stranger Things

Highly, highly requested analysis (no it’s not) of some interesting things I noticed going on with D&D in stranger things. This includes my personal thoughts based on my credentials of; having watched the show more times than i can possibly count over the past 7 years and current knowledge of DnD classes, worldbuilding, monsters, character creation. I’ll have this on the pinned post on my blog and i’ll add a text break because it’s…a lot.

Misc. :

The show starts with and is based off of Dungeons and Dragons, a table top rpg that the characters like to play. In the first season we don’t get much insight into the boys characters or the game itself, it’s used as a device to further the idea that these kids are nerds, they play a nerdy game that involves fantasy and math. As the show progresses it continues to be used to push across certain ideas, like establishing each character in the party and in season three showing how the game might represent the boys as social outcasts and their childhood.

DnD, is used throughout the show but we get to see actual play of the game in season one and four. It’s also used as a way to name the monsters they face (the monsters do get the right ideas across but the game and show versions are actually quite different from each other, especially the demogorgon)

In season 4 the idea of satanism connected to DnD really interested me. Why was everyone connecting DnD to satanism? I mean we know that everyone thought that Eddie was killing all of these people but that doesn’t mean that his club had anything to do with it. The duffers interestingly incorporated the real stigma that was widely held in the 80s against the game. At the time people were going on witchunts against anything regarded as being possibly related to satan. The most interesting part about all of this though is that, Dungeons and Dragons was made by two very devout christian men, Ernest Gygax (one of the founders) was even a Jehovah’s Witness! The two being christian’s though, incorporated a lot of religious themes into the game including clerics and paladins (calm down you fiends i’ll be getting to that) who carry a lot of religious themes and monsters that may represent demons. Outsiders might have seen a game presenting such themes as a mockery of their faith or a way to promote satanism simply by having monsters.

Characters:

I want to preface this by saying the classes that I’ll be talking about aren’t actually time period accurate. The boys would have been playing D&D 1e which had the three classes of : Fighting-man, magic-user, and cleric. While the classes listed are from D&D 2e which didn’t come out until 1989. Anyways.

In season 1, in the first scenes of the show we get to see what is the middle of DnD session before it gets interrupted. We get the basic ideas of their game across, Mike acting as DM presenting the adventure he created to his players while the rest of the party waits in anticipation for what they have to fight next. We also get to see some of will’s drawings of the party and his character

Keep these pictures in mind.

In season 2 when mike and max are arguing in the gym we hear mike say, “I’m our paladin, will’s our cleric, dustin’s our bard, lucas is our ranger and el is our mage.” At first glance it seems like nothing, oh he’s just listing off the party members and their roles and how max doesn’t fit into the party. But when you look at it properly it’s so much more.

Lucas and Dustin could not be more perfect for their chosen classes. Lucas is a ranger which means the ideal stats to be highest would include dexterity, constitution, and wisdom. Dexterity refers to, in this case the hand eye coordination and general reflexes. Constitution refers to a characters stamina and toughness, and wisdom is well, wisdom. Sounds like a certain character that has quick reflexes, has a tendency to take punches pretty well, and has good problem solving skills huh? All of these apply to lucas quite well, AND his weapon of choice is a ranged weapon, the slingshot (wrist-rocket you know what I mean), it’s really quite perfect. As for Dustin, he’s said to be a bard and the highest ideal stat for that class is charisma. Dustin has been proven to be very charismatic, he gets along with people and he can very comedic. Another thing about bards is they will tend to be very eloquent, inspirational, and persuasive, it comes with the territory of having a high charisma score, and we know dustin has a way with words. Dustin’s known for being a an eloquent and persuasive character; he convinced Mike to make up with Lucas after their fight in season one, he convinced a hesitant Mr. Clarke to tell him how to make a censory deprivation tank, he convinced steve to join him in looking for dart, and convinced erica to go through the vents (sort of). So, it makes complete sense for dustin to be a bard.

Taking a look at Mike’s character, his class also makes a lot of sense. Mike plays a paladin when he’s not the DM. A paladin is a “devout warrior” they fight with a cause, to serve their patron deity. They’re often compared to knights because of their values and the armor they usually wear. A paladin is the perfect representation of mike, especially for how will described him during the painting scene, he’s a leader and will throw himself in dangerous situations for the sake of the party, like when he jumped off the cliff for dustin.

Now, remember how will’s drawings, specifically of his character? Remember how mike said that will was a cleric? Will’s character is complicated. Will’s character being a cleric doesn’t make sense but makes so much sense at the same time. His character doesn’t look like a cleric. Clerics might be spellcasters but they don’t traditionally carry a staff or wear robes like we see will’s character does. He wears wizard clothing and has wizard abilities, not to mention in the first scene we see him play DnD and attempt to cast fireball, a spell that is most commonly associated with wizards and sorcerers and he does not seem to get his magic from a deity like a cleric traditionally would. (Clerics can cast fireball but only if they are part of the light domain) So, his character seems to be more of a wizard than a cleric, which is odd.

My theory relating to Will’s character:

Looking back at what mike said, Will’s character class doesn’t make much sense. But, I personally feel like Mike wasn’t being totally honest. First, he listed el, who they might consider to be part of the party but she doesn’t have an actual role in the game, but of course she would be the magic-user/mage. I think that mike made the list based on his feelings about the party specifically regarding will and el. El has powers in real life so it makes sense he assigned her the role of mage, and replacing will for him to become a cleric. It’d be interesting if Will was simply a cleric in mike’s personal thoughts about the party because it would make it so mike views them as very close. Paladins and clerics are very similar in relation to the fundamentals, a paladin is a warrior that swears an oath and serves a deity while a cleric is the servant of a deity that heals and fights. Basically, a cleric does more spell casting and less fighting while a paladin does more fighting and less spell casting. Since the two are so similar it would give a lot of depth to the characters being best friends, who have a much deeper understanding of each other than the rest of the party would. And even if he wasn’t simply a cleric in mikes mind and will the wise is actually a cleric, this would still show that the two having a much deeper connection and understanding of each other was hinted at from the beginning.

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snitchcrimsonwrites · 5 months

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Maybe pt. 5

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

Something seems off with these dwellers from 32, what's their deal? Time for our favorite couple to find out.

Part 1 Here Part 7 Here Part 12 Here

Part 2 Here Part 8 Here

Part 3 Here Part 9 Here

Part 4 Here Part 10 Here

Part 6 Here Part 11 Here

Norm knew why he was sitting alone at a table of mainly residents from Vault 32, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He’d much rather be conversing with his family or (Y/N). Hell, he’d take even Chet, who he was sure would go on about his infatuation with his sister. He’d prefer that level of awkwardness to the awkwardness associated with playing host because he was the Overseer’s son. He wasn’t cut out for this.

He looks up from the table and across the atrium to see your eyes locked on him, he offers back a wave to break your concentration on him. You return the gesture with a beaming smile. His heart thumps a little quicker. You’ve had that effect on him lately. He’s not quite sure when his feelings evolved past friendship-maybe back then, maybe in the last couple of weeks- but there’s no denying them now. He was hopeful that you felt the same; some of your interactions with him seemed more than friendly, flirty even. He just couldn’t be sure he wasn’t projecting his desires onto these situations.

His dad steps up to the stage to deliver his remarks. Thank Goodness. He was eager for any excuse to leave his assigned table.

“Good evening, and welcome to the proud denizens of Vault 32. We are bonded not just as neighbors but by a shared duty. To keep the candle of civilization lit. While the rest of the world has been cast into darkness.”

Norm can’t help but turn his attention from his father to the Overseer at his table; her intense focus on his dad’s words seemed out of place. What was her deal?

“Soon, if our measurements are correct, radiation levels on the surface are dropping fast enough that the next generation, Lucy and Monty’s children, will be able to recolonize.”

The atrium fills with cheers and applause from those in Vault 33 jumpsuits. The 32s seem less enthusiastic about the concept of recolonization. Was he reading too much into this? He feared the surface; maybe these people did, too. Perhaps he’d fit in better if he were in Vault 32.

“After 200 years, we don’t know much about what’s up there: desperation, violence, lawlessness. These survivors will need to be shown a better way. I’ll admit sometimes I’m afraid that mean old world will change us instead. But then I look at my daughter, who’s such a beautiful bride, and her new husband. And I am not afraid. I feel hope. To Lucy MacLean. And to this marriage. And to hope!”

The actual celebration could begin with the closing of his father’s remark. The music started, and everyone was soon captivated by the sweetness of the father-daughter dance. His dad and Lucy swayed back and forth to the sounds of “Some Enchanted Evening” emitting from the jukebox on stage. After a few moments, the two broke away. Norm knew what was coming next; this was typical of his family. His dad and sister plead for him to join them on the dancefloor. He begrudgingly concedes it was his sister’s wedding day after all.

Now, the three embraced and rocked back and forth on the dancefloor. At this moment, Norm was grateful for the bond he shared with his family. Through all the teasing between siblings and the disapproving glances from his father, they loved each other very genuinely, and moments like this one were the manifestation of that.

As they broke apart, Lucy went to tousle his hair affectionately. He noticed her eyes widen at something across the room as she did. Lucy motioned at someone, and Norm followed her gaze. Please no. But it was already too late. Lucy was closing the distance towards (Y/N). The two excitedly embraced. Hopefully, they were just exchanging congratulations. They were friends, after all. Norm watches as Lucy whispers something to you, and suddenly, the pair is heading back in his direction. Lucy, what did you say? Norm thinks as he puts his hand up his forehead while his dad nudges him with his elbow.

“I saw (Y/N) by herself on the edge of the dancefloor and thought someone might like to invite her to dance.” That someone was him, apparently, as Lucy offered (Y/N)’s hand to Norm.

“I’d be happy to,” he replies. Norm was frustrated that his sister had to be one to ask you but wasn’t about to lose the opportunity to dance with you. With a surge of confidence, he takes hold of your hand to lead you onto the dance floor, making a little show of pulling you into position in his arms. He was hoping it impressed you.

“Sorry about that,” he confesses to you after a few moments, shooting his sister a steely glance as he does. She didn’t need to confirm that he was too chicken to ask a girl to dance. “You know how she can be when she gets an idea in her head—unrelenting.”

“I don’t mind; I was actually hoping you’d ask. Your sister just guaranteed the odds.”

Norm smiles, looking up into your eyes. You wanted to be here with him. That was enough. He eases into the moment, focusing on his dance steps and trying to burn every aspect of this into his memory. The way your perfume lingered in his nose, how your body felt leaning into his, the beating of your heart in rhythm with the music—he wants to remember it all.

The sound of a throat clearing behind him brings Norm back to reality. Please don’t let it be someone else wanting to cut in. Turning around, it was just his father, but he did come bringing bad news. “Sorry, I will need to steal Norm away for a second,” the Overseer states as he places a hand on Norm’s shoulder. “Just one family photo, and I’ll give him back,” he reassures (Y/N) with a wink.

“Not a problem,” you reply. Norm believes he can detect disappointment in your tone.

“Find you after.” Norm declares, keeping a loose grasp on your hand as the two of you pull away. He wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

______________________________

You set up camp by the main stage to people-watch and wait for Norm to return from his family obligations. Initially, you hoped to catch some laughable moments from your neighbors of Vault 33. There was just something about weddings that brought out peoples’ impulsive natures. Still, it was the behaviors of the residents of Vault 32 you couldn’t look away from.

Not even Norm’s presence back in the main ceremony space shifted your attention. Soon, he was slotted into the spot next to you on stage. You assumed he must have picked up on your body language and noticed precisely who you were observing because, without any prompting, he spoke up and asked, “Is it just me, or are the Vault 32 dwellers just a little …”

“Off?” you offer, not giving him a chance to finish.

“I noticed it first while my dad was giving his remarks; their Overseer seemed to be picking apart every word,” he said, replaying the interactions in his mind.

Without warning, he hops down to his feet from the stage and turns to you, offering his hand. “Come on.”

You take hold without a second thought. “Where are we going?”

“I think we need to explore how the other side lives.”

The two of you set off in the same direction you returned from hours ago, trying to act inconspicuously. Hopefully, the sight of two young people walking off holding hands gave a different impression than the reality of snooping around Vault 32.

Hands still interlocked, you make your way down the vault corridor, the sounds of the party in the atrium fading into the background, faintly echoing down the metal hallway. As you approach the end of the hallway, the vault door welcoming you to 32 is still open and rolled off to the side. There are no guards; all seems completely ordinary. You look to Norm and nod, confirming your commitment to enter and cross the threshold hand in hand.

The sight that greets you immediately sets off alarm bells. A breathless “Whoa” was all you could manage. Norm stays quiet, taking it in, only offering a squeeze of your hand as reassurance.

Vault 32’s primary outdoor space appears before you in stark contrast to 33’s. The Vault’s wheat crop is laid out across the atrium as a sea of decayed brown, brittle, and rotting wheat. Their Overseer mentioned a blight that had wiped out their supply, but seeing the scene before you was chilling. How did these people survive?

Continuing further into Vault 32’s atrium, you have to watch your step to avoid pieces of furniture grouped together in small huddles. The lack of lighting makes this task more difficult. Was there no power? Norm provides a steady arm as you two navigate the miniature obstacle course before you.

“Something isn’t right,” he vocalizes as he helps you avoid the plastic lawn chairs and bedding blocking the small opening to the remainder of the living area of the Vault. You’ve now moved both hands to grasp onto his bicep and forearm as you walked, nervous about the potential jump-scare awaiting around every corner.

The Vault’s living area seemed worse than the atrium, with equipment and furniture strewn haphazardly into the hallways, tables overturned, and trash littering the floor. Yet you continued. Curiosity drove each step forward while the heartbeat creeping up into your throat signaled to turn back.

“Hello?” Norm calls out as the two round a corner into one of the disheveled nursery rooms.

Panic strikes you when you realize he was calling out to what looks to be a person occupying a chair in a room ahead of you. What are they still doing in here? Panic then turns to horror when you get a better look at the occupant in the chair. The sight of the rotten, decayed skin leaves no room for interpretation, sending you and Norm scurrying to get back to Vault 33 in a hurry.

“Stay close,” Norm shouted over his shoulder from his position slightly ahead of you. As you returned down the hallway to get out the way you came, you heard the distant sounds of alarms, screams, and gunshots echoing into Vault 32. Something serious had happened since the two had left.

Norm speeds up and passes the last intersecting hallway before exiting the Vault; however, your escape becomes blocked as a knife-wielding Vault 32 dweller lunges out of the hallway junction in the space separating you from Norm. You react by putting your arms up in defense as the momentum from your body sends you crashing into your attacker, the backs of your forearms making contact with the large knife.

Your scream stops Norm dead in his tracks. He spins around frantically to see the cause of your distress, seeing you bloodied and wrestling to escape your attacker. He starts back down the hallway to intervene, but the appearance of two more 32s stops him.

“Get after him. I’ve got this,” your attacker encourages, causing the two newcomers to rush down the hallway after Norm.

“Keep going. Don’t look back!” you shout, hoping to prompt Norm to flee as you writhe free, creating space between you and your assailant. Your words have the intended effect as your friend springs to action, taking the additional aggressors out of the corridor with him.

Escaping your attacker's hold, you now need a plan to save your life. Think you need to come up with something, anything! You urge your brain in desperation.

The man comes at you again, lunging through the space between you, trying to make contact with his weapon. You narrowly dodge in time, ungracefully slide rolling to connect with maintenance equipment piled in the hallway's corner, the contact with the floor winding you slightly.

The clanging of metal tools falling on the floor draws your attention and will hopefully give you a chance. You pick up the nearest object, a pipe wrench, you think, and position yourself as your attacker comes at you again. From the ground, you lunge at their legs, knocking them off balance, and, using your body weight, pin them to the floor. It all happened so quickly that they had no time to react. The pipe wrench does the rest of the work. With a two-handed grip, the wrench rises over your head, comes back down, and connects. One. Two. Three. Four times. That was all it took to turn a human head into a bloody pulp.

You breathe out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and your body relaxes as the adrenaline leaves. You wince, now realizing how bad the damage to your arms was. The gashes were deep and still oozing blood; you had enough medical knowledge to know you needed to treat these wounds ASAP lest you be able to use your arms again. One of the hallway storerooms was your best bet.

___________________________

Norm can’t believe he took off down the hallway without a second thought. You were in trouble and needed help, but now he was in trouble sprinting down the connecting corridor with two, who he would assume were raiders hot on his tail. Maybe he could shake these guys and bring back reinforcements. At that thought, he urged his legs to give him more speed.

Thankfully, he was quick, leaving the raiders scrambling to catch up as he exited the corridor and hid low amongst the corn stalks. Upon seeing the chaos in the atrium, that was his new plan. The raiders had descended on anyone in a Vault 33 jumpsuit, killing them indiscriminately and with a level of violence he thought was unimaginable until now.

Norm realizes his best chance at survival is escaping the atrium and hiding somewhere deeper in the vault. He just hoped you were able to do the same. He stays low among the corn and vegetable garden, paying attention to opportunities to make a break. He makes it to the central open space, ducking for cover under a picnic table, hoping for one more chance to clear the room. He has no such luck. A female raider spies him under the table and grabs his legs, pulling him out into the open. This is how I die. The raider pulls Norm up to his knees, intending to silt his throat, and Norm fights back with all the strength he can muster. It’s not going to be enough. Then, suddenly, the raider goes limp, and he can push her body off to the side as she comes crashing down. He didn’t realize what had happened until he was embraced in his sister's arms. Lucy saved him. And now it was Lucy ushering him across the lawn and assisting him into the safety of the bunker. Norm climbs down into the claustrophobic space and turns to do the same for Lucy; at least he can save her. She simply shakes her head–no. She’s not coming down without Dad. She helps Norm shut the bunker door and heads back into the fray.

Norm dwells on one thought in the confided pitch-blackness of the bunker against the backdrop of commotion from above. I let them all down.

#norm maclean #norm maclean x oc #norm maclean x reader #fallout tv series #fallout series #fallout amazon

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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 1 month

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R.O.U.S.'s

@summer-of-bad-batch week 12 prompt 'Nightmares' (yeah my second fic for the same prompt I know ;)

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Omega, Hunter, Tech, Echo, Wrecker, Stardust the Space Hamster Set after Season 2 episode 'Metamorphosis' Word Count: ~540 Read Here on AO3

Featuring Stardust the Space Hamster, as created by the fabulous @kybercrystals94 - I promised you I'd write Stardust fic for the event, didn't I? :P

Synopsis: After the encounter with the Zillo Beast, Omega has a nightmare...

A shrill scream rent the air, reverberating off the metal walls of the Marauder. It had all four clones falling out of their seats and fighting each other in their haste to reach the gunner's mount.

"Omega? What is it?"

Hunter's voice was tight with alarm as he all but vaulted up the ladder. Tech crowded behind him until he too was perched on the edge of the platform, and Echo and Wrecker pressed close at the bottom.

Omega was crying now, great hiccoughing sobs accompanied by huge tears pealing down her cheeks.

“Hunter!” she gasped with relief, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “You’re okay!”

“We are all well, Omega,” said Tech with clipped concern, as Hunter returned Omega’s embrace and shot his brother an alarmed look over the top of her shaking shoulder. “What is the matter?”

“Tech!” Now it was his turn for Omega to burrow into his chest, as he tensed and awkwardly encircled her with one arm, patting her shoulder.

“There, there,” he said, tilting his head down to try and peer into Omega’s tear-streaked face. “Can you tell us what woke you?”

“It’s Stardust,” said Omega unexpectedly, her voice breaking on a sob.

“Stardust is fine too,” Echo reassured her from his position at the bottom of the gunner’s mount.

“I had a bad dream,” Omega snuffled, pulling back from Tech and rubbing at her tear-streaked cheeks. “Stardust grew enormous. Her cage broke, and she kept growing and growing. She was too big for the Marauder! And then…” Another burbling sob escaped her as her face crumpled into fresh tears. “And then she ate you!”

Wrecker thumped Tech in the thigh, so hard that Tech yelped.

“Who told her that the Zillo ate the crew?” said Wrecker with an accusatory eye roll. Tech merely returned the look with a petulant frown, whilst Hunter wrapped his arms around Omega again.

“We’re all okay,” he said gruffly, jostling her shoulders a little to try and cheer her up. “Stardust is fine… and she’ll still fit in the palm of your hand!”

“She ate you until you were bones!” said Omega with a fresh wail.

The four brothers glanced at each other helplessly, with a shared round of shrugs.

“I’m going to get the chocolate powder,” declared Echo, turning towards the galley. “Wrecker, get the mugs.”

Omega sniffed and her sobs died away to hiccups at the promise of hot chocolate, resting her cheek on Hunter’s shoulder as his hand moved in soothing circles on her back.

Tech adjusted his goggles.

“I would like to reassure you, Omega, that it was the Zillo’s unique species characteristics that let it grow large enough to consume human prey. It is quite impossible for the same thing to happen with a criceto.”

Hunter kicked out with one leg, booted foot finding Tech’s other thigh and sending him dropping over the edge of the ladder, where he landed lightly on his feet. Then he grabbed Lula, thrusting her into Omega’s hands.

“C’mon, kid,” he said with a smile, lifting her close to her chest and cradling her like she was a much smaller child than she was. “Hot chocolate after a nightmare? Who could say no to that.”

This fic most definitely inspired by real life events... I cannot tell you how unprepared I was to round the corner whilst in town on my lunch break the other day to find this...

6ft tall hamster roaming the streets of the city was not on my bingo card. And I knew straight away what to write for my long-awaited Summer of Bad Batch Stardust fic 😂

Also inspired by the real nightmare my kid had when they were about 7, where a T-rex ate us until we were bones, and then ate us again. All I could hear in my head whilst I was writing this fic was Omega's little voice saying "It ate the crew?!" 😂

#summerofbadbatch2024 #week12 #nightmares #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #the stardust conspiracy #original hamster character #space hamster shenanigans #stardust the criceto

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girlbloggerbae13 · 3 months

Text

Against Better Judgement - Part 1

I have re-entered my hyperfixation of The Boys due to season 4's release. Unfortunately I am a maladaptive daydreamer and can insert an original character into any given piece of media. So this is a Butcher x OC story, where OC is Hughie's big sister...so it does fit the story of the show pretty much to a tee (that is just how my brain cooks it up, sorry) - but there will be more details, side stories, etc to make it more fun for the Butcher storyline! And of course, it's written in OC's pov, so you get to know her backstory and thought process quite a bit. Please let me know what you think!

At 2 o’clock in the afternoon, Mickey should have been awake. A functioning, stable, put-together 29 year-old would be. Not Mickey. She was passed out in bed (a full size mattress resting on the floor in her room), her body still trying to process all the alcohol she had consumed the night before. And the morning before. As well as the few consecutive days before that. That’s how it had been for as long as she could remember, at least since –

The phone rang. Mickey groggily lifted her head from the pillow, reaching for her cell phone. She had apparently neglected to plug it in before she fell asleep last night. Hughie? She stumbled over to the corner, where her charger was plugged in, not quite able to reach the bed. I’ve been meaning to call him.

“Hughie? I’m sorry, I really have–,” she started, already guiltily rambling, but she was cut off by her brother’s wails. “Hughie?” He wasn’t stopping. “Hugh? Hugh? Hey, what happened? Hughie?” Mickey was already standing up and putting her shoes on, despite the hangover-induced migraine that was making her ears ring.

Hughie sniffled, gasping, then went silent. His breath was shaky. “Hughie?” Mickey warily said to her brother.

“She, she was j-just standing there,” he started.

“Who was? Hugh. I’m on my way, but I need you to tell me what happened.”

“We were just…I was leaving work, and she…,” his voice cracked as Mickey grabbed her keys, wallet, and flask. Empty. She’d grab something on the way to fix whatever had ruffled her little brother’s feathers. He was a sensitive kid, always had been. It was probably just some car accident he had seen while going on lunch, or even worse, he had been riding his bike and, distracted by the great Billy Joel, accidentally hit a kid. That had happened before. That would make sense. Everything is okay. The bad stuff happens to me, not him.

“Robin.” He was gasping for air now. Mickey’s heart dropped. “She was one step off the fucking…and he just came out of nowhere…she– I, I didn’t have time to…God, Mick, oh my God, Mickey…Robin, she’s gone.”

Mickey was about to open the door, but she turned around and threw up in the kitchen sink.

—

“The service was beautiful,” Dad said. Mickey had to stifle her laughter. She always did during times like these. Funerals, memorials, the like. The drinking helped, for a little bit at least. When it stops helping, it just means you need to drink more.

Mickey took a sip of her drink – some shitty wine her dad had likely bought to assuage the “divorcee blues” – and took a look at her brother. He was staring forward, scowling, with blank eyes. She knew what he was thinking. Hughie was asking himself what he could have done differently. What he could have said, or in his instance, where he could have stood differently. He’s wishing it was him instead of Robin. Maybe he’s thinking about joining Robin in death, or maybe that had just been Mickey when her husband died.

She had stood, motionless, next to Liam’s casket, as friends and family came up to her and gave their condolences. Mickey had sat with her head down, avoiding eye contact with Liam’s mother and father. He had been an only child. Perfect Liam. Hughie had nudged her to signal that it was the part of the funeral where she was supposed to stand for the family honors. Had they never married, the “honors” would have gone to his parents. She was the one that wanted a big, white wedding.

Mickey’s eyes had been squeezed shut as the rifle volleys were fired. Why do they fire blanks at a military funeral? The loud noises can’t be good for attendees suffering from PTSD. Like Liam had been. Mickey counted the shots.

One. Liam's face flashed in her mind.

Two. She squeezed her eyes tighter.

Three. Everything Mickey had ever wanted. Gone.

One of the other soldiers started playing Taps. She didn’t even have tears left, just rage. Mickey wanted to grab the stupid fucking bugle and slam it on her husband’s casket until it split open. She wanted to pick Liam up by the collar of his stupid fucking uniform and shake him back to life. She wanted to scream at him for leaving her a stupid fucking mess. For leaving her alone. All alone. She wanted to smash his head into the pavement until he died. Again.

They handed her – the next of kin – the neatly folded American flag. Mickey didn’t want it; she would have happily given it to her in-laws. She didn’t need another reminder of the mess he had gotten himself, or herself into, for that matter. Liam and his stupid patriotism. He had worshiped Supes, but unlucky for him, wasn’t gifted with any super ability. So he joined the military. For what? A couple years overseas firing at whatever your commanding officer told you to, a shitty government job where you’re just another cog in the wheel of the “Great Big American Dream” (the military industrial complex), and a never ending B-roll of whatever tragedies you had bore witness to. Mickey’s superiority complex had gotten her into psychology, then into the FBI’s training program to be a special agent. But this happened. And when you fire a gun at your officer’s foot – it was the ground next to him…it was never going to actually hit him…she had fantastic aim, and he was pissing her off – you can’t be a special agent.

That left her a widow at 26. Jobless. And an escalating alcoholic.

That wouldn’t happen to Hughie, though. Mickey wouldn’t let it.

She was brought back to reality by her dad. “Michaela, please make sure your brother signs the papers today. It’s what Robin would have wanted” She waved off her dad, scoffing.

The Vought attorney? Paralegal? PR motherfucker. Had some sense of entitlement coming in and asking Hugh to keep his mouth shut. And for only $45,000, as if that could immediately fix his grief. Obviously, it would work in Vought’s favor. No one would ever know that A-Train had run right through Robin, leaving only her hands, still holding on to Hughie’s. And the TV “apology” the asshole had given was disingenuous, to say the least, and a cover-up, to tell the truth. In the middle of the road? Yeah, right.

“Can I think on it?” Hughie asked the suit. Mickey breathed out a sigh of relief. It’s not like she hated Supes in general, but they reminded her of the military – especially Homelander – so each day her distaste for Vought, The Seven, and any asshole with super-strength grew exponentially.

“Good choice,” Mickey told her brother after she hastily escorted the suit out the door. “I know the money seems nice, but in my experience, it only pisses you off more. Plus, you’ll probably blow it on something stupid.”

“Like booze?” Hughie gave a half-smile to his sister for the first time since the accident.

“Ha-ha, asshole. Exactly like booze. I’ll stop when I’m ready to come back to real life.”

“Well while you continue to bury yourself in liquor, I’m going to bury myself in work.”

“Not any time soon, though, right?” Mickey asked, standing up.

“Why not? It’ll be a good distraction.” Hughie shrugged. This behavior wasn’t like Hughie at all, granted she had never witnessed him after he lost a significant other before, not like this. Maybe it will be beneficial, at least more beneficial than the coping mechanisms she chose. Everyone handles grief differently, right?

—

“Sorry, we’re closing–” Hughie turned to see Mickey walking through the tech store door. “Oh. We are getting ready to close.”

“I know, I know. I’m not here to shop. Now that you’re back at work, stupidly, might I add, I wanted to offer my free labor. I figured we could do the opposite of what we did when we were little and had chores. You get to sit and boss me around, and tell me what to do,” Mickey dropped the Tupperware of funeral food on the checkout counter. “Plus, I brought you dinner.”

“Really? Funeral leftovers?”

Mickey rolled her eyes. “Look, dude, it was already made. Now will you tell me what wires I need to put where so we can go home and–”

Both the Campbell siblings turned to the door. The bell rang, and the door was open, but neither of them could see a customer.

“Who are you?” A voice said.

“What the fuck?” The siblings said in unison.

“Right in front of you, pricks.” They were staring at the voice when whoever it was held up a small disc, waving it in Hughie’s face. “You think I wouldn’t find this thing?”

“What did you do, Hugh?” Mickey asked her brother, gritting her teeth. Wanting revenge on A-Train was one thing, but if her hunch was correct, this invisible guy was none other than Translucent. How did he get tangled up with one of the other Seven?

The Supe grabbed Hugh’s badge. “Hughie,” he jeered, then without warning, slammed Hugh face down into the counter, cracking the glass case. Hugh was launched over the counter. “Pussy! I followed you from the fucking tower,” Translucent said, lifting Hughie up again.

“The fucking tower?” Mickey was now yelling, but still frozen. “What the fuck, Hugh?”

Hughie was then launched into one of the store’s windows, cracking it. She had to do something. “Oh, and who’s this, Hughie? Your little accomplice?” The voice got closer, and Mickey could hear footsteps making their way towards her.

An invisible hand grabbed her by the hair, and she instinctively raised her knee, hard, hoping to hit Translucent where it mattered. He groaned, releasing her hair. Mickey tried to dash over to her brother, but was yanked up by her hair again and thrown backwards into a shelf of routers. Now her and Hughie were both on the ground, coughing, and Mickey still had no fucking clue what was going on. She propped herself up against what was left of the shelf, blinking and trying to reset her eyes.

“Who’s that guy you were with? In the car?” Translucent asked a panting Hughie. “Who was he? He put you up to this?” Now he was screaming, Hughie trying to escape, and Mickey was trying to get herself on her feet.

“I, I don’t know! He was just some Uber driver, okay?” Hughie’s voice cracked as he pleaded with the Supe.

Mickey grabbed an extension cord from the ground and slowly prepared to blindly wrangle their attacker, but unable to see the Supe, she didn’t see him making his way over to the wall closest to her, and in one fell swoop, Translucent grabbed the extension cord and threw it, and Mickey still holding on, to the opposite side of the store. She landed behind the shattered glass counter, still faintly able to understand what was transpiring through the ringing the blow had left in her ears.

“Oh don’t give me some bullshit! Uber driver?” Translucent mocked Hughie. Mickey could see a TV being lifted off its wall mount. “What, you think I’m some fucking idiot?” Translucent was walking over to Hugh, the flat-screen lifted high. “Why’d you plant the bug?”

“Please, please. Please, please, no. Please,” Hughie pleaded.

“We’re The Seven. Earth’s most mighty.”

Mickey had to do something. She propped herself up and took position to leap onto the invisible asshole.

“Champions of the innocent, motherfuc–”

A car drove right into the shop, shattering the windows, knocking down merchandise, and just barely missing Hughie. “Sorry about the mess,” a bearded man said as he exited the vehicle. “You should fuck off, Hughie.”

Mickey stood up shakily. Now she was really confused. “Who the fu–”

The Cockney-accented man turned towards her. “You must be the sister. Sorry to meet’cha under these circumstances, but you two need to scram.”

Holding a tire-iron, the man slowly walked towards where Translucent had landed, smirking. “Well if it ain’t the invisible cunt,” he chuckled to himself, then began swinging blindly around the TV wall. Moments later, he was launched into a rack of pagers.

“Hughie, Hughie, you heard him, we need to go,” Mickey said, trying to usher her brother onto his feet and away from the store.

“No, no,” Hughie stood up, brushing her off. “We can’t leave him here.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Yes, we can!” Mickey was practically pulling Hughie to the emergency exit when he stopped in his tracks. “Hugh. Hugh! No, don’t even–”

Hughie stepped back into the floor of the store with such force that he yanked her back with him. Mickey huffed and ran her hands through her hair. She inhaled and blood ran down her throat, greeting her with the familiar metallic taste.

Brit was attempting – and failing – to wrestle Translucent to the ground. Looked like he was tasting that red metal too, because with an erratic grin, he spat blood all over the Supe, revealing Translucent’s position. Smart. The bearded man then had the upper hand after headbutting the “invisible cunt” and landing a few punches, whilst slowly covering more of the Supe’s body outline with more bloody spit.

Though England put up a good fight, Translucent got one good lick in, and the man was down on the ground. Translucent looked up at Mickey, who, overcome with agitation and confusion, had not moved her feet, and she was now standing directly behind the groaning Brit. She swallowed a mouthful of blood. She was trained for this at one point in time, right? She at least had the pent-up anger for this. Mickey stepped over the Brit’s body.

“Hey, sweetheart, why don’t you just come back to the Tower with me, and I’ll make sure you don’t ever have to see these assholes ever ag–”

Mickey cut him off with a punch, slugging Translucent right across his face. Predatorial asshole. “Fuck,” she hissed, shaking her hand. She forgot how much she hated hand-to-hand combat.

Translucent stumbled a little, but popped back up, rubbing the side of his jaw. “Look, lady, I’ll give you that one, but let’s just–”

Mickey hit him again, this time with an uppercut. He charged back at her, grabbing her hair – again? – and landing a few blows to her stomach. Mickey snapped back into it, grabbing his forearm and pulling herself around so that her back was against the Supe’s chest. She flung her head back. Hard.

The Supe instinctively launched her into the wall. Now she could really taste the blood. But before she could steady herself, Translucent kicked her in the stomach, knocking her through the wall of TVs.

Thankfully, this had given England enough time to regain his strength, and he stood up, ready to attack, when Translucent gave him the same swift kick he had just given Mickey.

“So who are you?” Translucent asked. “Fucking spy?! For who, huh? You’re gonna fucking tell me!” Translucent picked up the Brit’s tire iron from the ground. “Or I’m gonna smash your fucking scalp off! Who the fuck are you?”

Through the Mickey-sized hole in the wall, she could see Brit propped up on one of his elbows, smirking. “I’ll tell you who you are,” he said. “A fucking moron. Translucent doesn’t even mean invisible. It means semi-transparent.” England made a quick glance to the other side of the store, where Mickey was able to faintly see Hughie holding an exposed wire. Hughie’s wire couldn’t reach, so England quickly kicked the Supe, sending him backwards where he waltzed right into the wire.

Translucent screamed as he got electrocuted, lighting up the store. Hughie kept screaming until Translucent’s limp body fell backwards onto the ground.

England stood up with a groan, and through shaky breaths, Hughie asked, “Is he…is he dead?”

The bearded man kicked the Supe. “Well he ain’t movin’.”

Mickey, limping, emerged from the wall she had been kicked through, and ignoring the mystery man and the Supe, yelled at Hughie, “I’m gonna need some answers, Hugh. What the fuck have you gotten into?” She gestured back at England. “And who the fuck is he?”

England put up a hand to silence her. “Whoa, whoa, darlin’, don’t fret. Name’s Butcher, and I’m just a friendly neighbor helpin’ out’ya brother here, alright?” He turned to Hughie. “Now, kid, how’d you know the electric could do the job?”

Hughie was still sitting against the TV wall. “Skin’s carbon…highly conductive. I saw it on, uh, Jimmy Fallon…”

Butcher raised an eyebrow, “Would have taken me forever to work that one out. Good job.” One thing about Hughie is that he knows the most random shit. This time it might have just saved them. Butcher made his way to Translucent’s lifeless body, and against her better judgment, Mickey followed his lead. Hughie wasn’t going to go down for this. “Let’s get ‘em in the boot.”

Hughie brought his hands up to his head. “W-wait, wait what?”

“The trunk,” Mickey and Butcher said in unison.

“See, your sister knows the lingo,” Butcher said while trying to get a grip on the Supe’s upper half.

Hughie looked at his sister, then at Butcher. “No, no, I mean, what are we doing with him?” Hughie was panicking now.

Butcher looked up at Hughie. “Well, Hughie, you just offed one of The Seven, mate.”

Mickey let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh, much to Hughie’s dismay. “Me? I…I…,” He turned his gaze to Mickey. “You’re okay with this, Mick?”

“Well no, but…I mean, he has a point, and I’m not getting in trouble for this.”

“What?! I…I…Butcher, you hit him with a fucking car!” Hughie shouted.

Butcher dropped Translucent’s torso. “Look, potato fucking potahto, we’re all in a shitload of trouble–”

“No, no! No, no, we’re not. He attacked us, and you’re…you’re a federal officer, you know?” Hughie argued, and Mickey dropped the Supe’s legs, standing up to cross her arms. This smug, sloppy, arrogant asshole is not a federal officer. “Just…just call the fucking FBI!”

The hesitation in Butcher’s voice confirmed Mickey’s suspicions. “Yeah, o-okay, so look…technically I’m not a fed,” he said, shrugging, as if this wasn’t just the atomic bomb of all bombs to drop on Hughie right now, let alone a less-than-awesome first impression to have on Mickey.

“Jesus, fuck,” Mickey started, holding her head in her hands, shaking it.

“WHAT?!” Hughie practically screeched. “Then who the fuck are you?”

#the boys #the boys s4 #the boys tv #hughie campbell #billy butcher #butcher x reader #eventual smut #slow burn #maybe #the boys oc

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