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chanelrolls · 1 day ago

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Love and Deepspace Men as College Students AU

pairings. sylus x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, xavier x reader, caleb x reader

notes. my headcanons of how and what would they be if they were set in an alternate universe of a college setting. requests are open!

SYLUS

Everyone knows Sylus. Whether it’s because of his absurd wealth, the way he dominates the racing scene, or how he carries himself among the crowd, he’s the kind of student people admire from afar but rarely dare to approach.

Definitely owns the most expensive bike on campus. He would pull up to lectures late, engine roaring, only to park in the most inconvenient places. The professors hate it, but no one dares to tell him to stop.

Never attends classes on time. He shows up whenever he feels like it, slides into his seat without a care, and still manages to ace every test like it’s effortless.

His major is a mystery. Seriously. Some say he’s in business because of his family’s influence, others think he’s in engineering because of his obsession with bikes. The truth? He’s studying something completely unexpected. (Design)

The one who gets professors to bend rules. He hands in assignments late, yet somehow convinces the professor to accept them. Probably through sheer confidence and the undeniable fact that his work is always top-tier.

People constantly try to get on his good side. Fake friends, clingy admirers, opportunists, he sees through them all. It’s a rare feat to actually earn his trust.

People think he’s cold, but he’s actually just selective. He doesn’t waste words on people who don’t matter. But when he does care? His presence is all-consuming, and he keeps those people close to him.

Has a reputation for getting into fights. He doesn’t start them, but if someone dares to push him? He ends them. Fast. Brutally. Efficiently.

Despite his reputation he's ridiculously smart. No one expects him to be the guy who casually dismantles complex theories in class. He doesn’t even study much, his mind just works differently.

He doesn't date, at least not publicly. People wonder if he’s ever been in a relationship, but no one has proof. His affairs, if they exist, are shrouded in complete secrecy.

He knows the underground side of the university too well. He’s got plenty connections, some legal, some… not so much. The kind of guy who could get his hands on things no regular college student should have access to.

SCENARIO

It’s late. The campus parking lot is empty, except for the flickering streetlights and the distant hum of a few motorcycles.

You’re walking toward your dorm when you hear the deep purr of an engine slowing to a stop.

You glance over your shoulder. It turns out to be Sylus.

He’s sitting astride his bike, helmet balanced on his thigh, one hand gripping the handlebar loosely. His gaze? Fixed directly on you.

"Didn’t take you for the type to stay out this late," he murmurs, voice low.

You shrug, trying to ignore the way the cold air makes you shiver. "Didn’t take you for the type to care."

A slow, lazy smirk spreads across his lips. "I don’t." A lie. You can tell.

He watches as you move closer, eyes flickering down for a fraction of a secon, too quick, but you catch it anyway. You don't want to make your conversation longer with someone this well-known, so you walk ahead, hoping that that's the end of it. Until you hear him speak again.

"Need a ride?" It’s an invitation wrapped in something dangerous. How unexpected.

You hesitate, then tilt your head. "Why would you...?"

Sylus chuckles deeply, like he wasn’t expecting the challenge. "Guess there’s only one way to find out."

And just like that, he tosses you the helmet. As if he already knew you’d say yes.

ZAYNE

The epitome of a model student; Perfect attendance, straight A’s, every professor’s favorite. If there’s a student the university would use in a promotional video, it’s certainly him.

Teachers' favourite

Always impeccably dressed. Button-down shirts, slacks, polished shoes—never a wrinkle, never a stain. He treats college like a corporate internship, and it shows. He also often walks around with long trench coats, it's his favourite piece of clothing.

Sits in the exact same seat every lecture. Second row, dead center. First row is too eager and attention-seeking, but anything further back is inefficient.

Has the most organized notes you’ve ever seen. Typed, color-coded, formatted like a research paper. If you ask to borrow them, he’ll hesitate before sighing and handing them over.

Never late, never rushed. His schedule is meticulously planned. If he’s ever late, something catastrophic must have happened.

Carries a leather-bound planner around. Digital calendars are unreliable for him. He writes everything down, from deadlines to coffee appointments, in perfect cursive.

He's always chosen as a delegate for external competitions or division-level activities, earning several awards.

Rarely seen at campus cafeterias. If he does eat on campus, it’s either a perfectly balanced meal prepped in advance or something minimal like black coffee and a protein bar.

Always smells expensive. Not overpowering, just subtly present. Clean, crisp, like fresh pages of a book mixed with something chic and sophisticated.

Somehow has dirt on everyone. He doesn’t gossip, but he listens. A passing remark, a detail others overlook, he collects information without even trying, possibly even using those against those people when needed.

Once you earn his attention, it’s hard to shake it off. If he chooses to focus on you, it’s deliberate. And his attention is the kind that lingers, even when he’s gone.

SCENARIO

It’s late. The campus library hums with a quiet stillness, the air thick with the scent of old books and freshly brewed coffee. You’re seated at a wooden desk, buried under an avalanche of textbooks and half-written notes, struggling to finish an assignment.

“Your handwriting is inefficient,” comes a smooth voice from behind you.

You glance up, blinking as Zayne pulls out the chair across from you, uninvited but completely assured of his place there. He sets down a sleek leather journal, flipping it open with precise movements.

You scoff. “Not all of us are programmed for perfection.”

His lips quirk—just slightly. “Clearly.”

You glare, but he’s already scanning your notes, his sharp gaze dissecting your work with effortless precision. Without asking, he reaches over, flips your notebook around, and rewrites an equation.

“You missed a variable.”

You stare at his elegant script, then back at him. “Do you enjoy making people feel incompetent?”

Zayne exhales, amused. “No.”

His fingers brush against yours as he slides your notebook back. It’s fleeting—so subtle you might’ve imagined it.

"Then what?" You ask. But when you meet his gaze, there’s something else there, something unreadable, something intentionally left for you to decipher.

And for the first time tonight, your exhaustion is replaced with something else entirely.

RAFAYEL

Skips classes religiously, claiming the "academic system is a plague on creative minds." He’s only seen in class when he’s legally required to be there—or when he’s bored enough to entertain himself with a professor’s suffering.

If he does attend, expect dramatic sighs, exaggerated eye rolls, and the occasional muttered insult about how the syllabus is “the death of passion.”

Knows everything about everyone. It’s not that he seeks out gossip—it simply comes to him. He has a way of prying secrets out of people with nothing more than a lazy smirk and a well-placed question.

Unapologetically nosy. If you so much as whisper in the hallway, he’s tilting his head, eyes alight with curiosity, waiting for the drama to unfold.

Despite his disdain for academics, he has the highest scores in philosophy and art history—because, according to him, “those are the only things worth knowing.”

Causes scandals effortlessly. One time, he casually implied that two professors were having an affair, and within a week, half the campus believed it. Was it true? He won’t say.

His art is chaotic, emotional, sometimes terrifying, and always raw. Professors either worship him or think he’s insane—there is no in-between.

Constantly broke despite having expensive tastes. Has a habit of buying ridiculously overpriced lattes just for the aesthetic of holding them.

Everyone thinks he’s a flirt, but he’s actually just very comfortable with physical affection. Will drape himself over his friends, lean against them, play with their hair—but the moment it’s turned on him? Flustered beyond belief.

The type to disappear for days and then show up like nothing happened, holding a new painting and a cryptic comment like, “I was emotionally exiled to the mountains.”

Claims to be a “nihilist” but secretly gets way too invested in people’s love lives. Will drop devastatingly accurate predictions about who’s going to break up next.

Often idles in the clinic when it's physical education time, just because he doesn't want to sweat.

SCENARIO

It’s midnight when you find him, half-sprawled on the studio floor, surrounded by unfinished canvases. The room smells like paint thinner and something distinctly him—smoky, a little sweet, like the remnants of a late-night adventure.

“You’re out past curfew,” he drawls, not even looking up. He’s playing with a paintbrush between his fingers, tapping it idly against his knee. “Breaking the rules? How rebellious of you.”

“Rafayel, I need to close this room now. Ms. Evans told me so.” You cross your arms, stepping over a discarded sketchbook. “You aren't allowed in here this late.”

He finally looks up, eyes gleaming with mischief. “No. But neither are you, so now we’re both criminals! How romantic.”

You roll your eyes but step closer anyway. He’s watching you now, head tilted in that way he does when he’s analyzing something—or someone.

“You should go,” you tell him.

“So should you.” His lips twitch. “But instead, you’re here. Seeking me out. Really suspicious of you, but it's okay, I get people who have crushes.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Rafayel—”

“Shh.” He shifts, suddenly closing the space between you, paint-streaked fingers brushing against your wrist. His touch is warm, even through the cold air of the studio.

“I have a theory,” he murmurs, voice lower now, softer. “I think you like me.”

Your heart stumbles. “Excuse me?”

“I think,” he continues, ignoring your attempt at indignation, “that you pretend I annoy you, but you keep coming back.” His fingers trail higher, barely grazing the inside of your wrist. “I think you’re more interested than you want to admit.”

You swallow hard, pulse betraying you. “You’re insufferable.”

He grins. "That's what you like about me."

XAVIER

Rarely speaks in class, but when he does, it’s always something unexpectedly insightful. Professors are lowkey impressed.

His navigation skills are atrocious. He’ll confidently walk into the wrong lecture hall, sit through 20 minutes of an advanced physics course before realizing he’s supposed to be in philosophy.

Has a perfectly neutral expression 99% of the time. No one ever knows what he’s thinking, and it drives people crazy.

Falls asleep in the most inappropriate places. He’s been found dozing off in stairwells, under trees, and even once, standing up in a crowded elevator.

He doesn’t understand social norms at all. If someone tells him a joke, he’ll just stare at them before giving a delayed, monotone “Ha. Ha.”

Awkward in a way that somehow makes him more attractive. He doesn’t try to be charming, and yet, that’s what makes people drawn to him.

Has absolutely no idea he’s a campus heartthrob. People whisper about him, but he’s too oblivious to notice.

Has an oddly intense gaze. Even if he’s not trying to be, the way he stares at people makes it feel like he’s reading their soul.

Carries a handkerchief like some 19th-century nobleman. And yes, he will hand it to you if you’re crying.

Oblivious to flirting. Someone could directly say, “I like you,” and he’d just nod and go, “Noted.”

His humor is so dry it’s almost undetectable. Half the time, you can’t tell if he’s joking or being serious. One time he approached you suddenly while you read a book about being different, "How many yous would I find in the next school year?" Huh? "Being different, right?"

The most inconveniently attractive person on campus. He’s not trying, but the rolled-up sleeves, the lazy ruffled hair, the calm but unreadable expression? Yeah. It’s a problem.

A student council member but always absent during meetings.

SCENARIO

It’s late, probably too late to be out walking around campus. But here you are, beside Xavier, the cool autumn air pressing in around you.

“You should go back to your dorm,” he says, his voice as calm as ever. “It’s getting late.”

“You’re literally out here too.”

He tilts his head, like he hadn’t considered that. “…Fair point.”

The two of you walk in silence for a while, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows over the pavement. He doesn’t say much, but that’s normal. Being with Xavier isn’t about filling space with words.

Then, out of nowhere...

“Do you want to hold hands?”

You nearly stumble. “What?”

He just looks at you, expression unreadable. “It’s statistically safer to walk in pairs. Handholding ensures proximity.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s… the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

He shrugs. “I know.” But his hand is right there, fingers slightly curled, waiting.

After a beat, you sigh and take it. His grip is warm, steady—but then, a slight squeeze. A tiny motion, but enough to send a shiver up your spine.

When you glance up at him, there’s something different in his expression. Just for a second, an almost-smirk. A teasing, knowing glint in his eyes.

Like he’s enjoying this.

You squeeze his hand back.

And he lowers his head to smile.

CALEB

The golden boy of the campus. He’s effortlessly popular—everyone knows him, everyone likes him, but he doesn’t care for any of it.

A natural-born athlete. Captain of the basketball team, but he’s also good at soccer, swimming, and anything that involves physical endurance. He lives for competition.

Too charismatic for his own good. People are drawn to him, but he keeps a natural distance, his warm exterior masking the fact that his attention is extremely selective.

Flirty without meaning to be. It’s not intentional. He’s just too smooth, and it drives people crazy. A smirk here, a casual arm around someone’s shoulders, it all means nothing to him.

Has had dozens of love confessions, but never accepted a single one. No one knows why.

Straightforward and assertive. If he wants something, he takes it. If he doesn’t like someone, they know.

Has a ridiculous amount of stamina. Can play a full game, go to the gym, and still have energy left to pick someone up and carry them effortlessly.

Would rather fight than argue. He’s not one for petty debates, he settles things physically or with an unshakable finality in his tone.

Territorial as hell. His seat in the cafeteria? His parking spot? His people? All his. No one touches them.

Cooked once during a cookery lesson and was annoyingly good at it. Now people keep begging him to make food, but he only ever does it for someone specific.

A terrible tutor. He has zero patience for slow learners and will resort to bribing, challenging, or outright intimidating someone into getting the right answer.

He doesn't always resort to violence, no. When someone pisses him off, tying the person's bag around their chair is all that he needs to do. Sometimes, secretly putting huge rocks inside the bagpack.

Cannot sit still for long periods. He’s either tapping his foot, spinning a pen, or stretching every five minutes.

Despite his unpredictability, he's ranked as the valedictorian of his batch.

SCENARIO

The student lounge is crowded. People are chatting, studying, and lazily scrolling through their phones between classes. You’re sitting on one of the couches, laughing at something your friend just said when Caleb suddenly slides into the seat next to you.

No warning. Just an unbothered, entirely possessive claim of the space beside you.

“Hey—” You barely have time to react before he does something even bolder.

His arm slings over the back of the couch, effectively caging you in. His fingers tap lazily against your shoulder, casually.

You turn, confused. “Caleb…?”

He doesn’t look at you. He’s staring at your friend instead with a forced smile, his usual easygoing nature laced with something colder.

“Are you leaving?” Caleb asks in a deceptively polite tone.

Your friend hesitates. Then, after a forced chuckle, stands up. “I—yeah, I have class.”

They’re gone in seconds.

You blink, not being able to say anything.

“What?” Caleb finally turns to you, his smirk lazy, but his eyes? Entirely unrepentant.

You frown. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He hums, tilting his head slightly, watching you too closely.

“Didn’t I?”

The implication hangs in the air. Like he knows something you don’t. Like he’s already decided what’s his.

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arcane-ish · 3 days ago

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So... is this canon? The "Lanes carved from bedrock" theory

There is this fic by @out-there-tmblr called Brush Off All The Dirt about a the backstory of Silco and Vander meeting as young men in the mines.

There's also the big fat Zaun timeline/chronology meta by @sorceressofthesky

They basically propose the following sequence of events of what exactly might have been the backstory of Silco and Vander and the Lanes as Young Men: namely that they built the Lanes up from scratch.

Let's look at the hints.

1.) Silco, Vander and Cassandra Kiraman are roughly the same age range.

2.) The voice on the recording we assume to be Cassandra. Technically we don't know that for sure I think? 2x01 definitely starts with Cassandra talking because she is talking directly to Caityln

"I know you doubt the merit of your birthright, Caitlyn. There's wisdom in that. But remember: You're a Kiramman."

The voice on the recording picks up directly there with

"But remember: You're a Kiramman."

However it is distorted, in theory this could be ie Cassandra's mother talking to Cassandra and just using the same phrasing. That said, my subtitle thing notes Cassandra for that line.

"The rise of industry in the fissures has led to the air becoming increasingly toxic. They call it the Grey. I've instructed our architects to devise a ventilation system."

So Cassandra as a young woman installed the ventilation system. In the picture where the ventilation system is being opened, she is posing with miners who wear gas masks.

3.) When we see the flashbacks of Vander, neither he, nor Silco, not Connel and Felicia wear gas masks, which suggests the conditions were better for them than during the time when Cassandra was posing. So either Vander and Silco became miners after the changes Cassandra made or were around to see it happen. [note another theory, that shows up in the fanfic, is that those people next to Cassandra might be Piltover engineers who get better gear than the normal miners, following the idea that Pilties need masks and Zaunites are just used to the air, but it still never sat right with me that Felicia would raise her children without protection if there were alternatives; I also think the miner gear just looks pretty similar from the drawing to the flashback]

4.) When Felicai talks to Silco and Vander she says "Tonight a harebrained scheme these two bozos cooked up to turn a dank crack in the earth into a thriving, healthy community became a reality." and later "You two are gonna figure this Zaun thing out. I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock, covered in blisters. You're not allowed to fail anymore."

(that line alone is interesting. Does "you are not allowed to fail anymore" imply they have failed before? there's also the line from Silco to Vander "we both know topside won't listen to anything else.")

5.) In season 1 Vander is protective of the Lanes specifically ("Spare the Lanes"). While Silco wants freedom for all of the undercity.

6.) It gives Vander and Silco something to do between Felicia announcing her pregnancy and the bridge fight. Felicia's words suggest that they have already achieved a lot, the Last Drop is already fully there and looking good. And yet it's several years between Vi being a zygote and Vi being a young kid in the opening scene (I would expect her to be at least 5/6). Time for Vi to have a relative safe happy idyllic childhood as per the Remember Me video. And Silco throwing a molotov and looking scared overall seems like a still fairly innocent reaction, suggesting that there wasn't that much all out open war before the Bridge fight (again matching the rosy, peaceful depiction in the Remember Me video). If Silco and Vander were mostly busy building up their community that would explain why Vi had a very happy childhood rather than being born into turmoil or being raised in the middle of a civil war.

So the solution that for example that fanfic proposes is:

there was an area that was unusable due to Gray

after the ventilation system was installed it tentatively became livable

Vander, Silco, Felicia and Connel started to use their mining knowledge to carve out new areas that new people could live in and built a thriving community

that community's economy was heavily based around on smuggling (as per the statements of Amanda, who also says Vander and Silco created the "market" respectively market area).

it would explain why Felicia is still working as a miner when her kids are small rather than let's say working for Vander at the bar. They are not working for rich mine owners, they are doing their own thing and working for something they believe in.

It seems like it was always a vision of the writers that Vander and Silco "built the Lanes" in whatever form. And season 2 could have brought in the additional backstory of Cassandra making it possible thought her air systems and Felicia being one of the miners who helped.

Now personally, I strongly think that "it does not matter what headcanon the writers have, if they didn't put it on screen it does not count" (ie like Amanda saying Viktor bullshitted his way into the academy or that he helped Sky get a spot there). But it's still interesting to ponder what exactly the writers were envisioning.

Personally, i always like the idea more of Silco and Vander as dashing robbers in their youth, more in the style of "this is exactly the sort of job Vander would've pulled when he was our age."

But I'm willing to wrap my head around alternative takes. I think there is some appeal to the idea that there was something that Vander and Silco built up as young men, something that was their baby and Vander stayed attached to it. That they "built the Lanes" together. And they clashed, because Silco wanted to expand beyond that ("You had my respect. The Lanes' respect, but that… that was never enough for you.").

That said, I'm not super enthralled by it and I'm trying to formulate why. For one it seems kind of less dashing than fun robbers and revolutionaries. Again there's some appeal of actually building something. But "let's build an underground town" ...

1.) it just seems kind of small as a dream compared to

2.) it seems kind of close to what Ekko is doing (don't like how things are being run, build your own community, except with less pretty trees and hoverboards).

3.) It feels kind of like a very American sort of dream? Grab a piece of wild land, tame it, built a thriving merchant town on it.

Again, I don't completely hate it (and I really enjoy that fanfic that goes into the weeds of Silco and Vander figuring out the starting logistics). But overall, I'm glad they left it vague enough so I'm free to imagine it more as Silco and Vander organizing heroic miner strikes for better working conditions or being gangsters who work their way up.

#arcane #arcane analysis #vander #silco #cassandra kiramman #zaundads #zaun #felicia arcane

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kestrel-of-herran · 2 days ago

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my severance season three predictions

some of these are going to be so controversial yet so brave

season setting: we'll likely be spending at least 50% of the season, if not more, in lumon's white hallways, because the set is one of the most recognizable aspects of the show and the aesthetic has been praised as unique. we'll likely see more departments and more of lumon's inner workings, particularly in regards to what their endgame plan with severance is. the supporting cast will likely expand again.

season focus: since season one was about childhood (pushing the limits of rebellion while still fearing punishment) and season two about adolescence (outright rebellion no matter the consequences, self-definition through difference), then season three might be about entering adulthood, the kind of college mindset period where the innies start not only to question but define their world, when they gain more agency to participate in the power system (hello spirit of kier in helly), or try to dismantle it and carve out a space for the kind of life they want to have. it's also a period of disillusionment with some aspects of the teenage period, understanding your parents (outies) better, but also of acceptance of the inner child. relationships are now also a matter of effort, but that makes them more "lived in" because they are a constant choice.

markhellyna pregnancy: you knew this one was coming. who gets to control the body and what the consequences of this attempted control are is a big theme in the dystopian genre, and the show in particular has tackled childbirth from season one both practically and metaphorically (devon's pregancy, birthing cabin, children of kier, siring a new world order). foreshadowing for this has also not been subtle ("mark has moved on and has a daughter now"), and insignificant lines are scarce on this show. ben has said that the fade to red for the ending credits of the finale is an indication that we’re going to another place now. with red, you think of heart, and love. things are changing. it’s a different tone. to me that sounds like the show is about to be even more love-driven than it already is, as mark and helly's biggest goal is to retain their autonomy and find a way to live in the way they want to instead of die when lumon is exposed. the concept of two innies having a baby and wanting to keep it introduces so many discussions about agency, consent, and the consequences of blocking a part of yourself from your memories, which are central themes on the show.

mark scout's development: this guy has barely moved a single square since the beginning of the series, and his time to shine is nigh. we left him with the goal of getting gemma back in his life, but the narrative will never let him go back to the start with no consequences to his action of severing, if it's to remain a good one. since dan has said that he’s having these flashes between his innie and outie life, he’s not fully reintegrated, but he’s getting these glimpses, and that makes him different from any other severed person on the show and questioned if this [is] something that will fade once they have stopped doing the procedure, or will he continue to see these flashes from his other life?, my theory is that the marks will continue to experience reality glitching, and mark scout will begin to glitch on the severed floor, and meet helly and become acquainted with mark s' limited world and point of view before he even has a chance to interact with gemma again. ben: he’s missing the fact that he’s created this other part of himself that he doesn’t want to accept. i don’t think outie mark understands that this is part of him, this is who he is. he wants to deny that. mark scout needs to accept mark s as a person and a real part of who he is in order to develop and get closer to reintegrating fully, which i understand as the character endgame of the show. and this comes with meeting helly and experiencing mark s' feelings for her first-hand, so by the time he interacts with gemma his emotions are extremely complicated and he has personal reasons to fight for the innies' right to existence.

hellyna's development: since helly and helena are already "naturally" reintegrating, based on their similar desires and objectives through season two (hatred of entrapment, love for mark), i think this process will continue, with both of them unlocking more memories and communicating with each other positively. britt has been asked many times if helena is going to blow the whistle on lumon, and she always deflects the question, so it's clearly too close to home. when asked about what she hopes to explore for helena in the future, britt responded, for someone to have inside of her a really strong rebellion, how does that affect the company for the greater good? on a personal level, how does the wilder, fiercer, and freer part of this woman — which she has lost touch with — affect her moving forward? what does she have to learn from that? how can she grow and expand? whether or not jame offers helly to take over helena's body (and keeping mark s alive in the process might force her to agree to a deal with him), we'll be seeing both of her continue on the path of remembering who she is.

gemma's development: now here's where i'm going to serve something spicier than the devongemma agenda. gemma can't continue to be a clear-cut victim of lumon if she's to acquire a bigger place in the story's arc, because as things stand, we know too little about her as a person besides her plot-device role of "missing wife used for experiments" (both plot points pushing the story for mark and lumon more than for her) to make her feel real, and she hasn't displayed any negative characteristics that would make her character well-rounded. we know mark can be kind and an asshole, helly can be funny and cruel, but what do we know about gemma's personality? what do we know about how she got to the place in the story we met her in, what her goals in the future outside of her relation to mark are? having a few defined characteristics is alright for a side character (see lorne: loves goats, a little weird, side character done), but if she's going to enter the story with a screentime comparable to milchick's for instance (who is now both a follower of lumon and disrespected by the company), she needs to be well-rounded, e.g. internally controversial, as all people are. she can be a victim of lumon's programme and someone who volunteered to join the cult (*cough* chikhai bardo card) because she wanted to escape the cycle of pain the fertility treatment pushed her in. cults want to attract educated people, people who think of themselves as intelligent and resilient, because these are the kinds of people who further the goals of the cult the most. it would be entirely misogynistic if gemma's arc doesn't progress past "mark's wife with fertility issues who needs to be saved from the evil corporation", if she's not shown to have agency in joining the programme and remains a passive victim the story happens to rather than a character driving the narrative through her actions and choices, and if the consequence of severing and her feelings towards her own innies aren't explored as a major part of her arc.

#how do you know what's good for me that's my opinion.mp4 #severance #markhelly #markhellyna

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zepskies · 2 days ago

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Finally I'm here to give my full review on this amazing start to this time travel adventure to one of my favorite eras...featuring one of the biggest assholes in existence. (AKA: The Original Asshole) 😆😆

“Move, or I’ll move you.”

Oh what a start. 😂 Unstoppable force meets immovable object?

SB is such a grumbly asshole to start with (my favorite tbh). I'm so glad you started with Homelander already being wrapped up and tucked away where we don't have to see his deranged fucking face anymore. 👏🏽👏🏽

Soldier Boy was obnoxious, loud, rude, sexist, racist, lazy, arrogant, selfish, cruel, deceitful, complacent, vindictive, inconsiderate, paranoid, ruthless and unsympathetic. Honestly, you’d need a whole dictionary just to get through every single character trait you hated about that man.

God the accuracy. 😩🤌🏽

And lol not Hughie causing him to spill his iced coffee! Poor princess. 😝

I love that she's a Led Zeppelin fan too! I feel closer to her already lol. 💜

“Isn’t it time for your nap, gramps? You’re sundowning,” you retorted instead with a teasing smile.

*snorts* Oh yeah, I love her. Again, not him already being the biggest fucking asshole in existence, commenting on her "biological clock" and "feminist bullshit." 🙄 I see it's going to be a long road of slow burn for these two.

Also it's so interesting that she doesn't age too much -- not only does it make perfect sense considering her powers, it allows her to be a good (potential) match for Ben, since he also ages slowly.

All the tidbits about her background were so interesting and excellently woven in:

Led Zeppelin

Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged show

Her shitty parents

The Middle Ages and the Salem witch trials 😅

Her making money on Wall Street 🤣

This in particular was such a rich visual:

When you closed your eyes at night, you could still feel the scorching heat underneath your bare soles and smell the smoke reaching your nose and lungs.

I could smell the smoke myself. 🥲

Soldier Boy laughed loudly at your rejection. “I do like ‘em feisty,” he murmured with a sultry voice, invading your space even more as he shifted closer on the couch. Lion king on the prowl. “You know, you’d be less useless if you spread your legs every once in a while.”

God I hate him!! I hate him I hate him I hate him and his stupid sexy fucking face. 🫠🫠🫠 He really is the worst here, and it makes it that much more whiplash/surprising when she meets the Ben of 1942. You see a stark difference between "Soldier Boy" and "Ben."

But we're skipping ahead here. Going back to -

After your parents found out they couldn’t make money off of you, they kicked you to the curb.

Ah yes, this is such a good theme to explore from the show. Gen V really highlighted this too I think - this idea that parents literally made deals to have this done to their children is so evil and heartbreaking. It tracts that the products of this - all these kids grow up to have major psychological issues and trauma.

And then Vought tried to kill her for her powers! Honestly it tracts too. She has a potentially world-changing power, and anything that fucks with Vought's money is the biggest threat.

You wouldn’t kill anything or anyone, really.

Major respect to her for this - especially in this world!

“Well, currently, there are two working theories on time travel: The closed loop theory and the alternate timelines theory,” you’d explained after he had asked you how actual time travel worked. Most people gave up after a minute, but he had still been in it after five.

I have a heavy suspicion that we're in the "closed loop" theory for this story, and that's why SB is so interested in her powers and asking her all those questions, and then being so fucking obnoxious and mean about calling her broken and useless. I think he remembers her from 1942, and that's why he's so persistent with her in the present. 🤔 Again, I could be totally wrong, because why wouldn't he just ask her if she remembered him? But clearly she hasn't gone into the past to meet him yet...

GAH! All the questions.

Either way, after what you’d seen the Russians do to him, you could understand why someone like him might want to turn back time and get a redo. The unpleasant images, the inhumane torture he’d endured, actually caused you to have sympathy for the supe. For a second.

*snorts* yeah exactly.

Ooh the part where he gets nostalgic about her voice, I feel like that's an important tidbit too. 🤔 Now I feel like a detective, trying to figure out what delicious clues you've left for us throughout this ride.

“What the fuck happened in your life to turn you into such a miserable, toxic, overbearing, narcissistic, insufferable piece of shit?!”

Oof I have a feeling she's about to find out. 😅

“Fucking finally… Took her long enough,” he commented dryly and stretched out on the small two-seater, sighing blissfully.

Holy shit...now on my second read of this, I feel like he pushed her buttons on purpose. He remembered her from 1942, but knows her powers haven't been working, so he put the pressure on hard enough that it triggered her powers to finally work. 🤯 Especially with the line that "he's not finished with her yet"?!?!

If I'm on the right track with that (I know you can probably neither confirm nor deny lol), then he's fucking diabolical for that one. 😂😂 So much that it warrants the Butcher gif:

“Mon dieu, what if she changes the timeline, Butcher? I don’t want to wake up speaking German,” Frenchie threw in. “And I don’t want fucking slavery back,” MM added.

Oh my God, they're both so real for that. 😰

Admittedly, he was hardly recognizable, though. While he was just as tall as his 21st century counterpart, he wasn’t as broad. Instead of the signature green outfit, he wore a long, black wool coat over a three-piece suit and a checkered flat cap. His hair was maybe an inch shorter, his beard replaced by a clean-shaven face. And while Soldier Boy surely didn’t look a 104, he didn’t look as young as the guy in front of you either. No furious lines from decades of anger management issues decorated his freckle-dusted face yet.

Oh my God plsss - this description of 1940s Ben is already sending me/melting me into a puddle. 🫠🫠 Reminds me of 1940s Dean! 😂

To your surprise, however, there was no detection of malice or offense on his features. To the contrary, he seemed strangely taken aback by your aggressive response, his hands swiftly shooting back as if your very skin was made out of scorching coals. They raised in surrender. Surrender.�� Well, that was new.

LOL poor girl, she's so traumatized from SB and his sexual harassment. 😭 Of course I already know where we go from here, but rereading Part 1 makes me even more excited to dive deep into Chapter 5 this weekend! That 10K is calling to me. Can't wait to see what deliciousness is going to unravel there. 😏

But again, this is truly such an amazing start, Wayne! It's so rich with her background story, her going toe-to-toe with Ben, all the interjections from the boys crew and so much more. People have written 1940s fics with Ben before, but this is I think the first one that explores a time traveling supe meeting him in the past. It feels very fresh and original for the fandom. 💛

(I did read a Bucky Barnes x OC one-shot back in the day that explored this idea. It's here if you ever want to read it/if you're an MCU Bucky girl: Lost in (1940s) New York)

And when you told me this was going to be around 16-ish chapters, I already knew this was going to be a fun, angsty, drama-filled exploration that takes its time with these characters and their development (hopefully Ben's especially lmao). 💚

Time After Time – Chapter 1

Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, angst, Soldier Boy being an insufferable ass, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), post S3 alternate ending, enemies to lovers & slow burn, set partially in 1942

Word Count: 6.0k

Posted on Patreon March 1, 2025

A/N: Weeee, so excited to finally share the first part of this series with all of you! From mortal enemies to classic romance, crazy and angsty time travel theories, and a glimpse behind the green suit (in both ways), we're gonna have a lot of fun with this one 😉💕

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 1: Of All the Gin Joints...

“Move, or I’ll move you.”

Annoyed, you huffed a sigh and lifted your feet off the coffee table, shifting a few inches to the right, so Soldier Boy could pass by with a deep grumble. You rolled your eyes back slightly when he plopped down next to you on the worn, old couch in the office of the Flatiron Building.

“A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt you every once in a while,” you muttered with a glare at the supe.

“Disagree,” he huffed.

When Butcher and his team tracked you down and recruited you almost a year ago, you surely hadn’t signed up to spend your days with a fossil from the past century. All they had wanted you to do was find the weapon that could destroy Homelander. That weapon turned out to be Soldier Boy.

And you had found him, freed the man from forty years of Russian torture without receiving so much as a ‘thank you,’ and helped the team take down Homelander, who was currently powerless and safely locked up in a CIA black site. Now, you were still here – as was Soldier Boy.

To your dismay, he wasn’t just the most powerful supe on the planet, especially after his own son’s steep fall from grace, but he was also the biggest motherfucking asshole that ever walked the earth.

This morning he’d been particularly belligerent as soon as he had set foot inside the office and Hughie bumped into him, causing Soldier Boy to spill his iced latte. To be fair, the guy had just been standing in the doorway like a moron for a full three minutes – he’d stared at you the whole time, probably thinking of new ways to torture you.

Today marked your 30th birthday of all things, so it was only natural your over six-feet playground tormentor would be present for the occasion.

“Led Zeppelin, huh?” he noted with an arched brow, eyeing your choice of outfit. You mostly wore band shirts from tours you’d been to from your time traveling adventures.

“Yeah, I got it for my twenty-fifth birthday. I went to Zeppelin’s first tour in 1969. Only wear it on special occasions,” you told him with a smile.

In some rare moments, it was actually possible to have a normal fucking conversation with him. You hoped it was one of those. Aside from his grumpiness in the morning, maybe he’d decided to give you a break on your birthday.

“Oh, yeah, right…” He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Happy fucking birthday, I guess.”

“That is so sweet of you, thank you,” you replied wryly.

He knew what you were doing. His smile rose – and then morphed into a provocative smirk. “So, thirty, huh? How’s that feminist bullshit working out for your biological clock, sweetheart?”

“Don’t kill him,” Annie reminded you of the office mantra with calm in her voice as she sat behind you at her desk, causing Soldier Boy to snort a laugh.

“Isn’t it time for your nap, gramps? You’re sundowning,” you retorted instead with a teasing smile.

You took his taunts lightheartedly. After all, you didn’t think you’d have to worry in that department – much like him. For some reason, you didn’t age… a lot. At least, it was slower than the average supe and human. You figured it might have to do with dropping in and out of wormholes. You had aged just fine as a kid but it progressively began to slow around your sixteenth birthday – the first time you’d traveled through time and jumped to Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged show in New York of December 1993.

You remembered your parents had been fighting behind the broken and yellowing partition slider of a trailer you had called your home. You’d lain on the pull-out bed with your headphones on and a Walkmen, trying to drown out their screaming. You listened to that record and wished you could be there – and then you were.

You’d found your ruby slippers.

To this day, you still got ID’ed at every bar, club, and liquor store alike. Soldier Boy had never been carded. He’d once claimed it was because he was famous, to which you’d almost spat out your drink and told him the wrinkles didn’t lie. Least to say, that little joke hadn’t flown well with the supe.

“You know, doll, if you ever need that tension to disappear from your shoulders, I’m right here.” Soldier Boy smirked cockily at you and spread his legs a little further apart. Not a day passed by when he didn’t hit on you either – or anything with tits, really. “Just say the word, and I fuck it right outta you. I do like ‘em older, you know, so I don’t give shit. But if you wanna get cracking on this baby thing, we better fuck on this couch right now.”

“Please don’t,” Hughie pleaded in a high-pitched sigh, glued in his spot next to Annie.

“No, thanks,” you scoffed and scrunched your nose in disgust. “You’re a fucking pig.”

“Hey, c’mon, I know you want to,” replied Soldier Boy without an ounce of self-reflection, his smirk only widening as his hand crawled up your thigh. “Bet you’ve been waiting for a big dick like mine, haven’t you?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You slapped his fingers away, huffing in frustration.

Not even your kindergarten bully had been this fucking annoying – and that kid threw a dodge ball at your face and broke your nose.

Fortunately, while your own powers were on the fritz, you still had some superhuman strength. Sure, not as much as Soldier Boy, but if he shoved, you could at least push back enough for him to leave you alone.

For, like, five seconds.

Jumping up from your seat, you rounded the table to bring space between you and face him properly. It was always smarter when he was in your view at all times and you could watch his brazen hands with an eagle eye – the same hands that currently began to roll a blunt on the coffee table.

“Hey, if it weren’t for me, you’d still be frozen solid in a box in Russia,” you bit.

“Well, we’d like to think we would’ve found him eventually, love,” Butcher threw in from across the room, the sly grin on his face telling you he was enjoying the show.

“See?” Soldier Boy sneered complacently. “Fucking useless.”

“You’re fucking useless!” you yelled, anger surging through every inch of your body. “No one fucking likes you! You don’t have friends, you don’t have family, and everyone in this room fucking despises you – just like your old team!”

Slowly, he rose from his spot on the couch, nostrils flaring, his sheer height imposing as he towered over you like the Empire State. A part of you was glad there was still a piece of furniture between you – even though that wouldn’t stop him in the slightest.

“You take that fucking back,” he snarled, one hand balling into a fist by his side while the other pointed a warning finger at you.

However, you stood your ground, crossing your arms in front of your chest, a challenging look in your eyes but a subtle swallow in your throat. “No,” you said defiantly and bristled. “I’ll drop you into the fucking Jurassic era where you belong, fossil. Watch you become a T-Rex’s fucking chew toy.”

Soldier Boy’s grin boldly widened, green eyes shimmering daringly. “Do. It.”

“Oy, simmer down, kids,” Butcher assuaged but didn’t even bother to glance up from the newspaper in his hands. Instead, the Brit leaned back in his chair and threw his legs up on the desk, settling into a more comfortable position.

Soldier Boy threw him a dismissive look, annoyed at the interruption, before his attention turned back to you with a spiteful sneer. “You know, if I were you, I would’ve used those powers properly. I would’ve gone back and fucking killed baby Hitler or some shit.”

You scoffed a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, not surprising you would’ve killed a fucking baby,” you retorted dryly.

“See, this is why you’re a fucking failure,” he taunted and stepped closer, his face only inches away from yours now. You could feel his hot breath against your skin. “Those powers were clearly wasted on you, doll. Women are too fucking soft.”

You snorted, shaking your head. You didn’t even know why you still argued with that asshole. He’d never change. And you sure as hell couldn’t say shit like:

What d’you know? You’ve never seen a war zone from the inside, you fucking bigoted coward.

“I’m not soft,” you insisted instead, narrowing your eyes to a glare.

“Prove it.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate to go back in time and fucking kill you!”

At this point, you wouldn’t. You really wouldn’t fucking mind at all.

However, Soldier Boy only laughed in your face like you were the bug about to hit his shield. “Oh, you can certainly try, sweetheart. But you can’t, can ya? ‘Cause you’re fucking broken. Like I said, useless,” he reiterated harshly, his sneer widening when his hand reached out and clasped your chin between his fingers. “Don’t worry. I’ll find some good use for you. Especially for that mouth.”

Furiously, you thwarted his advances once more. “I said don’t fucking touch me!”

“Yo, Soldier Boy, c’mon! Leave her alone now,” MM warned, finally getting fed up too. He usually avoided the supe to the best of his abilities, only snapping every once in a while when the asshole took it too far.

This time, MM only got involved because Hughie kept sending him frantic looks of panic during your heated exchange, probably worried you’d antagonize the supe so much he’d detonate the whole building.

“Mind your own fucking business, punk,” Soldier Boy dismissed the intervention, his venomous eyes still fixed on you.

The anger was storming through your body and closing your throat with a tight chokehold. You could barely breathe as your chest heaved and your ears rang. It was always worse when you got angry. Unfortunately for you, Soldier Boy had a way of pushing your buttons and setting off your triggers.

Your superpowers had the ability to control and bend time – or at least they used to. You had mostly used it to stop the clock and get an extension on your homework deadlines. But technically, you could also travel through time.

Once you had found out how that worked, well, you quickly became addicted. You went to concerts of bands that didn’t tour anymore, you’d shamelessly make money on Wall Street and placed bets on football games, and sometimes, you even ate dessert twice.

It was all about the little things.

But that all stopped when you accidentally cast yourself into the Middle Ages and almost got burned at the stake for witchcraft. For some reason, your powers wouldn’t work until the last second – you figured extreme distress had been a factor.

When you closed your eyes at night, you could still feel the scorching heat underneath your bare soles and smell the smoke reaching your nose and lungs.

Afterward, you didn’t want to use your powers any longer – not that you could. PTSD was a real bitch sometimes.

You had lived quietly and alone in a cabin near Montréal for years. After your parents found out they couldn’t make money off of you, they kicked you to the curb. And when you knocked on Vought’s doors, asking for help, they told you not to use your abilities – before they tried to kill you. That was the moment you’d realized you might be more powerful than you’d initially surmised. Until then, you had only used your powers for your pleasure and the occasional personal gain.

So, maybe, Soldier Boy was right when he said you had never used your gift wisely.

After your flight from Vought, you lived under a fake name and took up online college classes in physics and history to understand your abilities better and avoid grave mistakes.

And boy, time travel was a fucking bitch.

Years of study could be summarized to this, however: If you even so much so as killed the wrong fly in 1783, the whole world could go extinct.

Or in Vought’s terms: If you accidentally fucked up history, it might fuck with their business and money.

That was the reason why they had been trying to get rid of you for the longest time – until Butcher showed up on your doorstep. You had no idea how the Brit could’ve found you or even known about your powers in the first place. After your escape, Vought had kept your existence quiet. They knew if the wrong people found you, it would end direly for them.

Wrong people like William Butcher.

At first, he wanted you to go back in time and, in his words, “kill the chubby, little cape cunt.” Needless to say, you had declined. Even if Homelander was the worst creature to ever walk this earth, excluding his sperm donor, you wouldn’t kill a baby. You wouldn’t kill anything or anyone, really.

If anything, you could be classified as a bit of hedonist – or “a fucking hippie,” as Soldier Boy once had put it. Which, granted, was probably a trait you both shared. Although, Soldier Boy took the whole fucking cake and ate it, too. At least all you ever did was steal a tiny slice every once in a while.

In the end, you had never asked for these powers. You were just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

But when Butcher then asked you if you could at least “hop back” to retrieve the weapon that had neutralized Soldier Boy in 1984, you finally told him you were essentially useless.

A part of you wanted to help, though. While you had closed yourself off from the rest of the world, you had still followed the news. You knew it had gotten bad out there. You could see Homelander spinning out of control and threatening to burn the world. You knew soon enough your house would burn, too.

You knew the monster needed to be stopped.

So, you offered Billy Butcher the only thing you could – a glimpse into the past, so he could find the weapon in the present.

And you did. You saw how Soldier Boy’s own team had despised him so much they handed him off to the Russians during an ambush in Nicaragua – but they hadn’t killed him.

The diabolical smirk on Butcher’s face had scared you. You knew he’d realized in that moment that you could be valuable after all. So, naturally, he threatened to give up your location to Vought if you didn’t join his team.

And well, here you were.

You’d traveled to Russia, you’d freed Soldier Boy, and you’d defeated Homelander. But even after the job was done, you stuck around.

Hughie, Annie, MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and even Butcher – they had all sort of become your friends. And they protected you, even though Vought had sworn they were done hunting you. No one trusted Stan Edgar, and you knew he would probably still rather have you buried six-feet-deep if he ever got the chance.

So it was nice to know the whole team stood behind you. Well, all but one.

Part of the deal with Edgar had been a request to keep Soldier Boy away from Vought’s business. The guy was smart enough to know he wanted nothing to do with the ticking time bomb, either.

“And what are we supposed to do with that wanker, huh?” Butcher had asked as all of you stood in a very breezy office at Vought Tower – which had still been under heavy construction after the fallout.

“Let him play hero, keep an eye on him, and I’m sure we’ll have no issues, Mr. Butcher.” Edgar had smiled cunningly, his eyes flickering to you.

Afterward, you had decided to pack up like Maeve and finally live your life. You’d even applied as a physics professor at a small college. But then Soldier Boy made his own request: Either you’d stay, or he’d walk. And if he had walked, your deal with Edgar would’ve fallen through.

Soldier Boy was a bully. In fact, he could teach master classes in it. You didn’t think there was one good bone in his body. So far, you could count the times the guy had actually been nice to you on one hand – two fingers to be exact.

The first time had been the very first night you’d spent together in that rundown motel after he’d killed Crimson Countess. You took over the nightshift of babysitting while Hughie and Butcher took a snooze in the adjoining room. That night, Soldier Boy had shown you a glimpse of a human being.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Well, lemme see…” Musingly, you had pursed your lips and thought for a moment. “Terminator came out in ‘83, right? You’ve seen it?”

His lips had slowly risen to a smile. “Yeah… Actually one of the last fucking movies I watched before the fucking Reds got me.”

“Right.” You’d nodded. “Still remember what happened?”

He’d scoffed and rolled his eyes a little. “I’m not that old…”

“Well, it’s been forty years since you’ve seen it…”

“Schwarzenegger comes from the future to kill that blonde chick,” he’d summarized with a cocky smirk that should’ve proven to you he wasn’t demented.

“Yeah, remember the soldier who came back to save her, too?”

“Oh. Yeah, that guy…” His nose had scrunched slightly. Of course he’d be rooting for the killing machine. “What about that fucking wimp?”

“The Terminator was supposed to kill Sarah because her yet-unborn son would defeat the robots in the future, but the soldier who came back to save her is actually the baby’s father.” There had been no way you could’ve explained it any simpler than that. “So, the Terminator actually created the circumstance, which made him go back in the first place. That’s a closed loop. Does that make sense?”

He’d nodded slowly, his brow creasing heavily in concentration. “Yeah, I think it fucking does…”

For hours, he’d asked you questions about your powers, and when he was through all of that, he even asked you about your life, what you did for work, and how you ended up here. And you’d figured he was trying to schmooze up to you to use you for his gain – or maybe he’d just been coming down from all the drugs he’d taken that day.

For a second.

When you’d tried bringing it up and be his friend, he had quickly shot you down. He’d been an even bigger dick since then, as if the sheer thought of someone seeing his weaknesses scared him.

Yes, a little, gray mouse like you apparently fucking terrified the biggest and strongest elephant in this world.

Honestly, you didn’t know why the supe had insisted on your presence. Maybe he just needed the perfect victim to antagonize as he passed the time. Sometimes, you did feel like the new Black Noir of Payback.

There’d only been one other incident where he’d shown something remotely resembling kindness:

He’d complimented you.

A real, sweet compliment – and he’d actually meant it – and he hadn’t hit on you in the same breath.

One night, a few weeks ago, Annie and Frenchie had dragged everyone of you to a karaoke bar to “decompress.” Even Soldier Boy tagged along and seemed in somewhat good spirits all night – there’d been no heinous taunting, only the usual flirtatious teasing.

One of those flirtatious attempts had been a dare for you to sing.

“Oh, c’mon! One song,” he’d begged and shifted closer to you on the small leather sofa in the corner of the bar. “How about something from the fucking 80s? Like Cyndi Lauper! I’m sure you’d like that, huh?”

“What, you want me to sing ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’? Really? You?” You’d arched a brow at him.

He’d chuckled, and it’d been a sweet sound instead of a mocking one. “Hey, look, I’m all about the girls having some fucking fun,” he’d said coolly before a lick of his lips turned him a bit more serious, mysterious even. “How about something a little slower… Time After Time!” He’d grinned proudly and raised his expensive whiskey glass to your cheap beer. “That’s fucking perfect for you!”

And then you actually went on stage and sung. You weren’t a bad singer, either, but you were by far no Mariah. However, you could see Soldier Boy watching you intently the whole time with that strange look he sometimes carried whenever he was staring at you – something he did quite often.

In fact, he’d stared at you pretty intensely when he’d first walked out of his cryo-chamber, too. It gave you the creeps the same way that naked homeless man had once done in a subway after 1 AM. And then, he had fucking detonated, which had freaked you out so much you’d accidentally disappeared back to New York with a five minute time difference forward – the only time you’d actually managed to travel into the future.

But after your performance, Soldier Boy had passed you on your way down from the stage and intercepted you by placing a tentative hand on your arm.

“You have a really beautiful voice,” he’d said and even gifted you a small but genuine smile.

“Thank you.”

Sweetly, you’d even mirrored his smile after no other insults or advances followed. You’d been practically baffled. As you had glanced at him more carefully, though, you’d noticed something gleaming in his eyes, almost melancholic. You’d supposed after 104 years, he had probably been experiencing a ton of déjà vu.

“You okay there, gramps?” you’d checked with a bit of a teasing smile, and maybe that’d been your mistake.

“‘M fucking fine,” he’d huffed. He’d suddenly turned cold again, the hard lines on his freckled face crestfallen. He’d spun around, marched out of the bar, and ditched you there on the spot.

So, that was what you had done for the past few months – babysit Soldier Boy and keep the bomb from exploding. Which brought you back to this exact moment:

“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Seriously!” you snapped, feeling the fury overtaking you. “What the fuck happened in your life to turn you into such a miserable, toxic, overbearing, narcissistic, insufferable piece of shit?!”

“Insufferable?” He scoffed as if your words didn’t affect him, but you could see it was starting to get to him. “You’re the one who’s fucking insufferable, doll. Probably because you haven’t been fucked in a while by a real man.”

Exasperatedly, you gripped your temples. “Oh, it all trickles down to that, doesn’t it?” you deadpanned. “You sound like a fucking broken record, gramps!”

“Oh, you wanna fucking jump on me badly right now, don’t you?” he gritted through his pearly-white teeth, a challenging smirk playing on his plush lips as he leaned closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Please, it’s not gonna fucking make me like you more. Your dick’s not a magic eraser,” you bit sharply, your voice low and poisonous. “God knows you fucked your last girlfriend for years, and she still fucking hated you.”

Growling, he bristled, his jaw ticking. Mentioning Crimson Countess always hit a nerve. You knew as much.

“You’re just a drug-addicted loser with daddy issues. Nothing more, nothing less,” you nonetheless continued bitterly. “No one likes you! And believe me, asshole, I fucking hate you!”

As you looked up at him, you could tell he was close to exploding. Kimiko even desperately tugged on your arm to drag you out of the blast zone – not that it would’ve mattered.

“Butcher…”

Hughie’s panicked voice and wide eyes reached the Brit, who finally got out of his chair and slammed the paper on the desk.

“Oy, you two! Fucking stop it!”

And somehow, that had miraculously seemed to work. Soldier Boy managed to snap out of his temper tantrum, his breathing steadying, his smirk reappearing.

His lips twitched as he dipped his head and whispered into your ear, “You’re not fucking worth it.”

His thick fingers trailed up your hips before he grabbed your waist and pushed you closer to his body. You tried to shove him away, but this time he used his full strength on you to keep you caged.

“Get off of me!”

“Butcher!”

“Oy! What did I fucking tell you lot?!”

Kimiko tried to pull you away harder, but that only made Soldier Boy chuckle more.

“I said stop it! Get the fuck off of me!” you yelled louder, and he finally let go with a cunning laugh.

“Alright, you’ve had your bloody fun, mate. Why don’t you take a bit of a time-out now, huh?” It was the most Butcher could do as far as an intervention went. Everyone in the room knew Soldier Boy couldn’t be stopped.

“Fine,” the supe relented with a roll of his green eyes, but then his gaze landed back on you.

You hated to admit that he had gotten to you, but it was hard to deny when your whole body was trembling and tears stung your eyes.

“Fucking Christ on a cross, are you actually gonna fucking cry now?” Soldier Boy snorted condescendingly.

“Fuck you. Leave me alone,” you snapped with what little strength you had left and wiped the burning tears out of your eyes.

“Exactly why I said you’re fucking useless. This is the problem with women. Can’t even take a goddamn joke,” he ranted. The more he got to you, the more pleasure he took out of it. You could see it by the vicious twinkle in his eyes. “You keep talking how everyone hates me, but what about you, huh? You’ve got fucking no one, too. Your own fucking parents didn’t want you, and I don’t see an army of men lining up to take care of you, either.”

“Shut up!”

“Wanna know why? ‘Cause you’re a broken, useless, stupid, weak–“

“Stop it!”

But he didn’t. You couldn’t even hear the words properly anymore as they strung together into one explosion of abuse. Your vision blurred, and the ringing in your ears only got stronger.

“C’mon, fucking show me what you can do! Prove to me you’re not fucking useless! Do it!”

“I said fucking stop it!” you screamed loudly till he fell silent.

And then, poof. You were gone.

Soldier Boy blinked at the suddenly empty space before him. Knitting his brow, he shrugged your disappearance off only a second later and plopped down on the couch with an exhaustive groan.

“Fucking finally… Took her long enough,” he commented dryly and stretched out on the small two-seater, sighing blissfully.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” Hughie threw in, the anxious expression on his face only causing Soldier Boy to roll his eyes once more.

“Relax, squirt, she’ll be back,” the supe quipped, snickering. “Probably.”

“Y/N’s got PTSD, okay? She can’t control it,” Hughie argued, placing his hands on his hips in upset, his gaze scolding. “You know, you’d think you of all people would be a little more sympathetic to that.”

Soldier Boy’s eyes glowered darkly. “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t have that shit. I told you.”

“You know, kid’s right,” Butcher chimed in, catching the ancient supe’s attention. “I’d be a little more worried if I were you.”

“Why? Not my fucking problem. And like I said, she’ll be fine,” he reiterated with a careless grumble.

“I’m sure you’re right, mate,” Butcher replied with a conniving smirk and a casualness that made the supe wary. “Let’s just hope our little Y/N doesn’t take your advice to heart about the proper use of her abilities. But if I were bloody you, I’d hope old-me watches me back.”

Soldier Boy snorted a laugh of amusement. “Oh, I’d like to see her try,” he replied arrogantly and stretched his spine with a yawn. “Well, anyways, I’m taking my fucking nap now. Just wake me when she gets back. I’m not fucking finished with her yet…”

Hughie and the others hurried around Butcher’s desk, their voices only whispers as not to disturb the grumpy supe, and the Brit knew by the worried looks on his team’s faces that he’d have to deal with this bloody problem now.

“Butcher, what are we gonna do?” Hughie asked, eyes still wide and kind heart surely beating a marathon on his sleeve.

“Yeah, how are we gonna get her back?” Annie agreed, calmer than her boyfriend, questioningly folding her arms and arching a brow.

“Mon dieu, what if she changes the timeline, Butcher? I don’t want to wake up speaking German,” Frenchie threw in.

“And I don’t want fucking slavery back,” MM added.

“Oy, calm down,” Butcher spoke with placating hands. “Y/N’s a smart girl. She knows more about this shite than anyone of you. I’m sure she’ll fucking figure it out.”

“What if she doesn’t, Butcher?” Annie pressed.

“Well, then, let’s hope worst she does is kill the snoring cunt over there.” Butcher smirked devilishly and gestured to Soldier Boy fast asleep on the couch as if he were hoping for that outcome. “God knows I’d be bloody fine with it.”

It took less than a second, a blink of an eye, but you felt it immediately, knew instantly what had happened as gravity itself stretched out its tentacles and wound them around your limbs, tearing and tugging until you ripped at the seams and atoms spilled out of you.

There was a stark drop in temperature – that was the first thing you’d noticed. Goosebumps formed within a beat on the bare skin of your arms, the biting cold making you not only shiver but fear for your life.

Please don’t be the Pleistocene... Death by saber-tooth? No, thank you.

But to your relief, you heard a strange, but familiar set of sounds around you – animated chatter, chiming bells and closing doors, and the occasional low rumble of a car. Your heart was pounding a furious and relentless rhythm in your ribcage as your eyes fluttered open and warily scanned your strange surroundings.

You’d landed on a street, your feet safely planted on a sidewalk. Glistening white snow covered the pavement in a thick veil, the sky a dull gray blanket above. Icicles hung from lampposts with patriotic banners flying in the chill, proclaiming messages to buy war bonds and save scrap metal.

Huh…

Powdered flakes swirled around you as a streetcar clattered past you on a cobbled street, the sound muffled by the snow. Storefronts and shops lined both sides of the road, shoppers bustling by you in coats, hats, and scarves. Your brow furrowed softly at the row of parked, snow-covered cars that looked a tad… old.

Oh no…

You had definitely traveled back a smidge, but luckily not as far as the Middle Ages again. Judging by the moderately busy street, you assumed you were at least still in New York City. A paperboy was shouting loudly further down, but you couldn’t understand him from the distance. The only word that was plastered everywhere was war.

World War I or World War II, maybe?

Wherever – or whenever – you were, you couldn’t get stuck here. Your short-lived fascination with your new environment was then quickly replaced by a rising panic in your throat.

You had to get home somehow.

Squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you could, you tried to wish yourself back – unfortunately, you didn’t possess your pair of ruby slippers anymore that you could simply click. The more you tried and failed, the more anxious you became, and you knew a full-on panic attack was just waiting for you around the corner.

“Whoa! Hey, careful…”

With your hands on your knees, you bumped backwards into a man, your lungs constricting so much they barely let any air pass. You spun around, eyes wide and body trembling as a set of hands landed gently on your shoulders and waist for support.

“Miss? Are you alright?”

What little breath you had got caught in your throat as you stared into an all-too familiar set of outlandishly green eyes.

Soldier Boy.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

It was a reflex at this point to slap his hands away and keep them as far from your body as possible. Of course the guy couldn’t leave you alone in any era.

Maybe your reaction was ill-advised, considering the power he wielded. You figured any past version of the supe was even more ruthless than the current one you’d gotten to know. Moreover, you didn’t have the advantage of being spared because you had saved him from an ice box.

Surrender.

Well, that was new. He had never, ever, ever done that before. Did you land in some alternate timeline where Soldier Boy was a nice guy?

“I-I’m so sorry, miss. Please forgive me… I was just checking if you were okay,” he stammered and forced a reassuring smile, his hands still held high in good faith.

“Just stay away from me. Leave me alone, okay?”

You backed farther away from him, your eyes desperately flickering around for an exit. Your voice jittered in sync with your body before you bolted down the street and sought shelter in a dark and quiet alley.

“Miss! Wait!” he called after you, his hands picking something up in the snow that you’d dropped during your flight. “You’ve lost your–”

His brow furrowed as he twisted the thin, rectangular device in his hand, his thumb wiping bits of melting snowflakes off the sleek, black glass. As he glanced more closely at it, it lit up brightly and vibrated in his hold. He startled at the unexpected tremble, almost dropping it into a pool of mud by his shoes. Fuddled, his gaze lifted down the busy street in search of you.

“What the hell…”

▶️ Chapter 2: Is This the 40s? – APRIL 4

I think his curiosity is piqued lol... What did you think of his 1942 version vs. the, uhm, less nice future dickbag? 👀

Coming Up:

Ready to fend him off, you were surprised to find his grip wasn’t strong by any means. It was barely a brush before he dropped his hand again and looked at you remorsefully.

“I’m sorry! I just-… Please let me help you,” he reiterated with imploring green eyes. “Look, you clearly seem lost. Just tell me where you live, and I can get you home safely, okay? C’mon, you can’t do this to me.” He tried to loosen you up with a charming smile and a puppy dog look. “If you leave like this, I’m going to be up all night, worrying you’ve died of hypothermia out here.”

And my God, he seemed sincere! No wonder he had gotten attention from women like a goddamn bunny in a petting zoo.

Musingly, you then chewed on your lower lip and assessed the man in front of you. The people who strolled by you threw you the occasional weird looks – you’d chosen a bad day to wear a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and ripped jeans.

Admittedly, you could use a little help here. Maybe if you were being careful with the timeline – and him – you could risk it.

🚀 Read up to 4 chapters ahead on Patreon now

Tag List Pt 1.:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

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randomfoggytiger · 2 days ago

Text

Mulder's Brain Disease: an Open-Minded, Analytical Dissection (In-Depth)

Mulder's brain disease, love it or hate it, has to be one of the most unnecessary plot threads of The X-Files. Not only is it wedged into Season 8 haphazardly, but it accidentally stains a new wash of retroactive interpretation into Season 7-- a not altogether successful maneuver, all told.

Most of the canonical evidence provided clashes with itself, many of the details volunteered undermine its collaborative vision, and each piece of action or exposition is either forwarded with the assumption of legitimacy-- and therefore unchallenged-- or immediately discredited in the next scene or scenes.

There are two clear paths and one alternative to explore: Mulder didn't have brain disease (per Season 7's original intent); Mulder did have brain disease but didn't tell Scully (what Agent Doggett is led to believe); and Mulder had brain disease but didn't know it.

Let's begin.

STATEMENT(S) OF (ALLEGED) FACT

The X-Files is well-known for its... questionable timelines. That becomes exponentially more complicated with Season 8's tightly wound schedule and Scully's pregnancy (which Spotnitz and Carter stuck to rather well-- barring a few logistical hiccups-- post here.)

The brain disease arc inflexibly hinges on a retroactive retelling of Season 7's schedule. One chronological bookend is Amor Fati (stated to have taken place "in the fall"); and the other is the month of May: Mulder takes "four consecutive" road trips to North Carolina, allegedly pops over to Squamash Pennsylvania (twice), and supposedly buys himself a new headrest (read: gravestone)-- all within the span of four weeks. Additionally, we have allegations of a year-long brain disease-- despite all evidence to the contrary-- which places Mulder in a position of secret keeper or liar by omission (which CC has vehemently denied, post here.)

BRAIN DISEASE

(**Note**: This section's information will be summarized under the "FACTS AND FICTION, THOUGHTS AND THEORIES" subsection.)

Requiem builds on top of the "encephalitic trauma" Mulder experienced in Biogenesis-Amor Fati-- one that, we're told, made him "more alive than he's ever been." So alive, in fact, that his body couldn't support itself and shut down; and so alive, in fact, that CSM cut out a part of Mulder's lobe and Frankensteined it into his own.

The show's mythology set up the alien-human virus as early as Season 3, and built upon that foundation with the characters' subsequent adventures in Fight the Future, The Beginning, and Biogenesis. As a virus, it grafts onto human DNA and changes it-- or in this case, reactivates from junk DNA. As Dr. Anne Simon, a consultant for The X-Files, explains:

Jan. 2001:

"...I work on viruses. Viruses can’t turn into anything. If a virus turns into something, it’s not a virus. I was really horrified. So I read the rest of the script, and I came up with a different science that would only change a few conversations, but it would change the idea of what the virus was. And I had my fingers crossed that he’d go for it. If Chris wanted that virus to turn into something, he would’ve done it whether I wanted it to or not. But he loved the new idea: The virus integrates itself into the DNA of the person. That’s what a lot of viruses do, activate a resonant program in the cell. There’s a program in all our cells, in our DNA that starts with that single egg and turns us into a person. And that’s encoded in our genes, in our genetic makeup.

"The problem is that there’s a huge amount of DNA we don’t have a clue about. There’s a whole lot of DNA that we call junk DNA. We don’t have a clue what this junk DNA is doing. My idea was the virus activates a resonant program in the junk DNA, and that the junk DNA is actually there to turn a cell into the horrible creature, which means that we are the aliens."

Point taken. Multiple (questionable) vaccine inoculations and infections aside, humans in The X-Files world have latent alien DNA. The ancient artifact Mulder handled in Biogenesis activated his; and, unable to bear up under that extremis, his body was reduced to catatonia and shut down. Though there are quite a few problems with that specific chain of events (most of which I discuss in an alien virus post here), the logic could, theoretically, hold up.

ENCEPHALITIC TRAUMA AND REWRITES

In Amor Fati, Mulder was so far gone that he'd disconnected from reality (although his "inner" world was still influenced by outward events.) How, then, was Mulder brought back from the land of fantasy? Metaphorically, it was through Scully's belief and love and courage; practically, it was because of the (successful) medical procedure he underwent during his captivity (post here):

RULING OUT: TREPANATION AND BRAIN EDEMA

Two possible causes for Mulder's later complications need to be explored before we move on.

Firstly, as with a great deal of other components on the show, trepanation is not as simple as the writers propose:

World History.org, here:

"Trephination (also known as trepanning or burr holing) is a surgical intervention where a hole is drilled, incised or scraped into the skull using simple surgical tools. In drilling into the skull and removing a piece of the bone, the dura mater is exposed without damage to the underlying blood-vessels, meninges and brain.

According to Academic Press's 'Osteoarcheology': "A neurosurgeon can perform the procedure safely, although it comes with severe repercussions such as direct or indirect perioperative complications, which include increased damage to the brain, infection, blood loss, hemorrhage, and potentially death due to the trauma as the skull's protective covering is compromised."

Here, its perils are hand-waved away with "advanced alien science"; but to potentially complicate Amor Fati's explanation, the purpose of Mulder's surgery was to slice out an activated portion of his brain and transfer it to CSM's:

Penn Medicine, here:

"A temporal lobectomy, or temporal lobe resection, is a neurosurgical procedure that removes the front part of the temporal lobe of the brain to treat drug-resistant epilepsy. Each person has two temporal lobes, located beneath the skull on the side of the head in the temple region. The temporal lobes play important roles in memory, emotional responses, language, and sensory memory and processing of sounds, visions, and smells."

While it's possible that Mulder's and CSM's declines could have been kick-started by this procedure, that's not the route canon follows. Spender's deterioration is tied to "cerebral inflammation", which in turn is tied to Mulder's pre-surgery encephalitic distress-- in short, pre-trepanation trauma.

Secondly, the script also details a medical procedure that is most often used to relieve and treat brain edema (brain swelling)--

NHS, here:

"Ventriculostomy: In this procedure, a surgeon cuts a small hole in the skull and inserts a plastic drain tube. Cerebrospinal fluid is drained from inside the brain, helping to relieve the pressure.

Surgery: Surgery may have one or more of these goals:

A. Removing part of the skull to relieve intracranial pressure; this procedure is called decompressive craniectomy.

B. Removing or repairing the source of the swelling, such as repairing a damaged artery or vein or removing a growth."

Brain edema-- depending on the extent and duration of the trauma-- usually inflicts various degrees of harm. And while that could be promising when discussing Mulder's brain disease, Scully would have seen evidence of edema-ridden damage on his CT and MRI scans during his convalescence. Further, brain edema is not a form of brain disease, rather an offshoot effect of that condition-- therefore, not the cause of his (alleged) impending death.

AUTHORIAL INTENT AND REWRITES

Inverse to Mulder's reawakening and restored health is CSM's 30 touch-and-go hours and grim, post-operation prognosis:

His doctor's hints about a second surgical intervention are particularly intriguing. When CSM reappears in Closure, Scully notes his odd pallor-- "You're sick"-- which he doesn't deny-- "I had an operation." We are to assume he is referencing the brain surgery in Amor Fati-- he is-- but I would like to posit Spender could be referencing a possible second procedure (an off-screen attempt to mitigate his ailing health.) By En Ami, CSM's fate is sealed, and he openly admits his mortality in order to ignite Scully's trust (post here): "Cerebral inflammation-- a consequence of brain surgery I had in the fall. The doctors give me just a few months." His arc comes to a close in Requiem (unless you push canon into Season 9 and beyond) where we see the rapid toll of his deterioration.

Recovery from "advanced alien science", then, is aided by regular, everyday human physiology: age, health, medical history, and comorbid influences. Spender's age, smoking status, and former cancer diagnosis all combine against him-- his hubris for power led him willingly to death.

By contrast, Mulder's experience wasn't mentioned again until Requiem when he and the Bellefleur residents-- who'd previously suffered encephalitic trauma-- were called to the ship and abducted. There was no idea, hint, or reference sown about his deteriorating health: not a sign, not a symptom. Yet, mere months later, the tale is retold in Within: we learn, allegedly, that not only did Mulder have brain disease (and not only did Scully not know) but he'd also suffered through it for a year.

Frank Spotnitz admitted, after the close of Season 8, that the brain disease (and the IVF arc) was a last-minute creation he and Chris Carter decided on after their plans for a second movie set post-Requiem fell through:

April 2001:

"In the absence of pre-existing context for season 8’s dramatic surprises, the writers relied instead on flashbacks tailored to fit this year’s narrative. “Had I known there would be a season 8, I would have preferred to salt in all of the clues about these flashback episodes last season,” says Spotnitz of how he dealt retroactively with fitting in Mulder’s illness and Scully’s [IVF]. “But there really is no way to unravel these mysteries in my mind, and make use of David in the time that he was available to us, without having some flashback episodes.”"

Setting aside the complete lack of evidence that would “prove” Mulder was suffering from a degenerative brain disease, silently, for a year (without telling Scully), we’re left with a few bare-bone facts:

Season 7 was not written with the brain disease in mind.

Mulder's "encephalitic trauma" in Requiem was shared by the other Bellefleur residents, who were not (that we know) dying.

CSM declared that he was dying from "cerebral inflammation."

CSM's downturn post-Amor Fati was recorded at key moments through Season 7, with scrutable markers of decline and clear indicators of psychological shifts and changes influenced by his impending death.

In Within, we’re led to believe Mulder was suffering from year-long degenerative damage due to the surgery he and CSM underwent in the fall of 1999. Not only do his actions (or non-actions) in canon contradict this thesis, but Within-The Gift's timeline contradicts it, as well.

Deadalive-Three Words Mulder never confirmed he was diagnosed with-- or knew he was suffering from-- brain disease.

What, then, is "cerebral inflammation"; and how can we work in the brain disease as more than a creative (though flawed) hypothetical?

THE FIRST ROUND OF INFECTION

Encephalitis (“cerebral inflammation”) is pretty straight forward: you either have it and notice, or you have it and don’t.

There are two main types of "cerebral inflammation"--

NIH, here:

Inflammation in the brain and spinal cord can be caused by infections such as viruses. Encephalitis can also be autoimmune when antibodies can attack brain cells.....

NIH, here:

"Because people may have subtle symptoms of encephalitis, many cases may go undiagnosed. Several thousand cases are reported each year, but many more may occur since the symptoms may be mild at onset in some people."

Encephalitis hits fast and hard, disappearing within two weeks (Better Health, here) of its inception. Mild instances can pass through the body undetected; but severe or life-threatening cases are unequivocally transparent:

NIH, here,

"Once the acute illness, which normally lasts for 1 to 2 weeks, is under control, comprehensive rehabilitation should include cognitive rehabilitation and physical, speech, and occupational therapy if brain function is severely affected."

Mount Sinai.org, here,

"Those with a severe case of encephalitis may develop:

High fever

Severe headache

Stiff neck and back

Photophobia (sensitivity to bright light)

Sonophobia (sensitivity to sound)

Vomiting

Drowsiness and confusion

Seizures

Behavioral changes

Muscle weakness

Partial paralysis

Loss of consciousness

"Because encephalitis can on rare occasions be dangerous, it needs to be diagnosed and treated promptly....

"Many people exposed to encephalitis-causing viruses have no symptoms. Others may experience a mild transient illness, but do not develop full-blown encephalitis. People with mild encephalitis generally recover spontaneously over a period of several weeks.

"Severe cases of encephalitis can, however, have devastating effects, including:

Swelling of the brain caused by excess fluid (cerebral edema)

Bleeding within the brain (intracerebral hemorrhage)

Nerve damage (neuropathy)

"Encephalitis is a relatively rare disease. People at highest risk for encephalitis, and its complications include the very young, the very old, and people with weakened immune systems."

NIH, here:

"Because the disease can occur suddenly and progress rapidly, anyone who is suspected of having encephalitis should immediately contact a doctor or go to the hospital.

"...In more serious cases, the disease can cause hearing and/or speech loss, blindness, permanent brain and nerve damage, behavioral changes, cognitive disabilities, lack of muscle control, seizures, memory loss, or death. People with serious cases of encephalitis may need long-term therapy, medication, and supportive care."

Lastly, the risks for serious complications arise with the usual physiological predispositions and environmental factors:

Mayo Clinic, here:

"Anyone can develop encephalitis. Factors that may increase the risk include:

Age. Some types of encephalitis are more common or more serious in certain age groups. In general, young children and older adults are at greater risk of most types of viral encephalitis. Similarly, some forms of autoimmune encephalitis are more common in children and young adults, whereas others are more common in older adults.

Weakened immune system. People who have HIV/AIDS, take immune-suppressing medicines or have another condition causing a weakened immune system are at increased risk of encephalitis.

Geographical regions. Mosquito- or tick-borne viruses are common in particular geographical regions.

Season of the year. Mosquito- and tick-borne diseases tend to be more common in summer in many areas of the United States.

Autoimmune disease. People who already have an autoimmune condition may be more prone to develop autoimmune encephalitis.

Smoking. Smoking increases the chances of developing lung cancer, which in turn increases the risk of developing paraneoplastic syndromes including encephalitis."

In Biogenesis, we are told the alien virus in Mulder's DNA is activated when he touches an ancient artifact; but it's debatable if that incident lines up with viral (infection via an outside invader) or autoimmune (mistaken antibodies attacking its host) encephalitis. Regardless, that question is secondary to the main hypothetical: if encephalitis ("cerebral inflammation") has a short shelf life, what was killing CSM (and Mulder?)

REINFECTION: AUTOIMMUNE ENCEPHALITIS

The problem begins with CSM's (and Mulder's purported) year-long deterioration. "Cerebral inflammation", as explained above, does not drag its feet when swooping in for the kill. And more broadly, how is Mulder able to be reinfected with a disease which old Spender sliced and diced from his head? Better Health.gov's description (here) fits what the writers were going for, I believe: "There is evidence to suggest that some cases of viral encephalitis are caused by dormant viral infection... becoming active again." This plays well with Mulder's initial infection (Biogenesis), as well as CSM's lengthy "cerebral inflammation" and Mulder's (alleged) inflammatory reemergence.

However: recurrence is a symptom of autoimmune encephalitis, not viral encephalitis--

NIH, here:

"Although rare, there have been cases of post-infectious autoimmune encephalitis (where it is triggered by an initial response to an infectious agent)."

Autoimmune encephalitis: a review of diagnosis and treatment, here:

"Viral infections are known triggers for AIE. It is believed that virus-mediated brain tissue damage may lead to antigen exposure that triggers the development of anti-neuronal antibodies."

Another checkbox that can be ticked off: AIE might take longer to diagnose because of the difficulty pinpointing symptoms--

NIH, here:

"Diagnosing autoimmune encephalitis can be difficult as the average onset of symptoms to diagnosis often takes a few weeks to 3 months. ...To diagnose autoimmune encephalitis, we need multiple tools to aid in the diagnosis, although clinical judgment is the key to making decisions. They will include a constellation of neuropsychiatric symptoms, lab studies, neuroimaging, and electroencephalogram."

Slowly-degenerative AIE cases (though infrequent) do exist--

Autoimmune encephalitis: a review of diagnosis and treatment, here:

"By way of generalisation, autoantibody-mediated disorders often present rapidly, over a few days to weeks. However, we have observed more chronic courses, of between 1 and 5 years, particularly in leucine-rich glioma-inactivated protein 1 (LGI1)-antibody, contact-associated protein 2 (CASPR2)-antibody and immunoglobulin-like cell-adhesion molecule 5 (IgLON5)-antibody syndromes. These findings mean that time to disease nadir is often outside of the 3-month duration which appears in diagnostic guidelines."

Nevertheless, atypical cases are often put through rigorous testing to rule out other degenerative autoimmune diseases due to the severity of their symptoms: mood changes, mental confusion, muscle tremors, seizures (focal rather than generalized), pain, psychiatric symptoms, and (more often than not) tumors.

Autoimmune encephalitis: a review of diagnosis and treatment, here:

"Seizures occur in most autoimmune encephalitis syndromes and are a common factor that triggers neurological attention. The types and frequencies of seizure vary between autoantibody-mediated diseases and may help pinpoint the individual autoantibody. …These patients, typically men in their fifth to eighth decades, have very frequent focal events with multiple semiologies and only rare generalised seizures....

"In addition to treatment of the underlying immunological process, it is often necessary to consider management of seizures, movement disorders, behaviour, pain, sleep and autonomic disturbance, and mood disorders. We do not discuss this substantial topic comprehensively here but rather we focus on special considerations relevant to the two most common forms of autoimmune encephalitis: NMDAR-antibody and LGI1-antibody encephalitis."

It is possible, however, that the extent of the damage Mulder received during his surgery might have been overlooked-- fertile ground for the next trauma-induced biological onslaught:

NIH, here:

"Because lesions can sometimes be clinically asymptomatic, a systematic neuroimaging work-up should be performed.... Cerebral computed tomography scans [CT scans] performed at admission show abnormalities only in 30% of patients, essentially supratentorial readily visible diffuse or large focal hypodensities of the cerebral white matter. MRI of the brain should therefore be systematically performed when post-infectious encephalitis is suspected."

But the basic premise (and same problem) of 'traditional' encephalitis remains. AIE, though possibly reoccurring, does more harm in the short term than the long run: its most powerful weapon is either immediate death or a damaging domino effect--

NHS UK, here:

"Encephalitis can damage the brain and cause long-term problems including:

memory loss (amnesia)

personality and behavioural changes

speech and language problems (aphasia)

swallowing problems (dysphagia)

repeated seizures or fits – known as epilepsy

emotional and psychological problems, such as anxiety, clinical depression and mood swings

problems with attention, concentrating, planning and problem solving

problems with balance, co-ordination and movement

persistent tiredness"

It's not a leap, then, to suppose that--

CSM's health immediately crumbled apart because of his age, health, and smoker status.

Whereas Mulder's health-- if he was affected-- was bolstered up by youth and other factors. However: that does not rule out a potential sleeper agent lurking in his brain, waiting for the next traumatic incident to reactivate, AIE-style. (We'll get to that.)

FACT AND FICTION, THOUGHTS AND THEORIES

The facts, as we know them:

Encephalitis, no matter its form, is not a slow-burn, long-term killer. Yet, the fallout from its destruction can create a domino effect that could, potentially, be lethal.

Regardless of the original diagnosis, CSM and (allegedly) Mulder suffered from autoimmune encephalitis after Amor Fati.

While mild cases can be undetectable, severe or life-threatening encephalitis can't be masked and must be treated promptly.

CSM is doubly or triply immunocompromised-- per his age, past cancer, and on-going smoking habit-- and was promptly affected.

Mulder and the Bellefleur residents were abducted and transformed due to past "encephalitic trauma", not current, prevalent brain disease.

Most importantly: if Mulder and CSM had been dying over a year's time, there would have been conspicuous physical evidence-- evidence which Scully would have detected (as she did in Closure.)

Irrespective of these facts, let's play around with a few hypotheticals.

If Mulder and CSM had been dying contemporaneously, then they would have to be deteriorating from the ripple effects of at least one of three factors:

Extensive brain damage-- which would have become immediately apparent once they woke.

Accumulative comorbidities set in motion via brain damage-- which Spender did, and Mulder did not, have.

Reactivated effects caused by another traumatic incident-- which Mulder could have had (and did) in Season 7.

That last point is a particularly intriguing theory. Mulder would have been suffering profusely had his disease run concurrently with CSM's-- but what if it didn't? What if Mulder's brain disease was a recent diagnosis-- one he'd received before his abduction? If so:

His reticence from Scully would be short-lived and easily explained by Mulder still processing the news.

His sudden rash of trips to his mother's and sister's graves could be influenced by anxiety over an impending medical report or in reaction to an inflexible diagnosis.

His headstone purchase could be explained as a rash, last-minute gesture of acceptance (or could have been faked by his nemeses, which we shall get to.)

Yet, and this cannot be stressed enough: even if Mulder had a recurrence of encephalitis, it alone would not be enough to kill him, just like it alone would not be enough to kill CSM.

To get to the bottom of any and all possibilities, we need to map out a simple, logical, cut-and-dried timeline.

So, let's do it.

CANONICAL (AND RETROACTIVE) TIMELINE

(**Note**: If you don't care to read the discovery process, skip to PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER.)

To chart a course through the brain disease's cluttered "shoulda, woulda, coulda"s, two options present themselves: episodic air dates, or in-canon date markers.

Here we run into the first problem: neither touchstone works unmitigatedly: either in-canon dates reorder key episodes (perhaps the props department worked off the script rather than day-of filming?) or air dates don't graph cleanly onto defined in-canon perimeters and events. What we'll have to do: nail down the definitives, and work back (loosely) from there.

xfilestimeline.net provides an exquisite guide to (most of) The X-Files's chronological order, which I will be referencing below (direct quotes in italics.)

AMOR FATI

Amor Fati takes place "in the fall" according to Within. The air date (November 14) and in-canon estimate (October 7-14) both roughly group into that space. Mulder is wearing his "victory cap" to come find Scully; but it's hard to know for certain that the hallway scene takes place shortly after the last week of September (which, according to xfilestimeline.net, was the first Yankees victory of the season) or if he simply wore it to cover his bandages and bantered around the obvious.

Either/or is viewer's choice.

SIGNS AND WONDERS

Signs and Wonders's air date (January 23) outruns a "medical report" (January 17-19) by just a few days.

EN AMI

En Ami takes place (comparative to any month afterward) "last spring." Since there is no internal date provided, it either falls on March 19 (its air date) or sometime after February 20 (X-Cops's in-canon date) and before April 14 - May 1/May 8-12 (Brand X - Chimera's in-canon dates.)

Again, viewer's choice.

SEIN UND ZEIT

Sein und Zeit airs on February 6th; but its date is "confirmed" by a TV broadcast of State of the Union Address (January 27 - February 1.)

BRAND X

Brand X's air date (April 16) coincides with its in-canon, two-week recovery estimate (April 14 - May 1.)

CHIMERA

Chimera debuts a full month prior (April 2) to in-canon configurings (May 8-12: Date confirmed at outset ((2 weeks after 4/23)).)

Chimera marks the first overlap between Season 7 and Season 8: Mulder (allegedly) visited Squamash, Pennsylvania on May 6 -7, a day before he and Scully were assigned to a stakeout (May 8.) It's not stated how long Mulder and Scully were on duty before he was again reassigned; but it stretches believability (what else is new?)

ALL THINGS

all things has no fixed internal date, though it's air date (April 9) takes place a full month before the estimated in-canon dates (May 13-15.)

FIGHT CLUB

Fight Club's airing was May 7; but its own internal date (June 17-19) so incontrovertibly contradicts Requiem's abduction timeline that it can be confidently swapped out for May 17-19.

This episode is pivotal to quite a few brain disease theories.

JE SOUHAITE

Je Souhaite air date (May 14) is hastily surpassed by its estimated internal date (May 22-24.)

This episode is vital to understanding the brain disease arc-- more accurately, to understanding Mulder's mind frame when given three wishes.

REQUIEM

Requiem is key to the entire framing of the brain disease arc:

Either Mulder is abducted on May the 21st (Requiem's air date), which shreds through Agent Doggett's May timeline (which will be discussed below);

Or Mulder is abducted on May 31st (the day before Within), which tears fewer rips in Agent Doggett's theory.

Pulling from my "Laying Waste to The Gift (with Its Own Canon)" meta (post here):

A. ...Doggett refers to Mulder's trips as "Four consecutive weekends in May"-- distanced language that (one can infer) means the month is over. (If he and Scully were still in May, Doggett would have more naturally stated "each weekend this month" or "the past four weekends.")

B. Spotnitz has since confirmed Within takes place the day after Scully's reveal in the hospital ("Season eight begins the morning after season seven." Interview here.)

C. Therefore, it's safest to assume Within takes place in June (either June 1st or June 2nd), pushing Mulder's abduction date to May 31st.

WITHIN

Within begins the complete disregard for air dates-- and rightfully so, given the strict guidelines of Scully's pregnancy (post here.)

See Requiem above: takes place June 1st.

PER MANUM

Per Manum takes place mid-September (Scully's baby is fourteen weeks old. Given that she announced her pregnancy to Skinner at the very end of May, it seems likely that she conceived in mid-May, which would give a mid September date for this episode.)

THE GIFT

The Gift is broken into three trips: (allegedly) Mulder, May 6 A.M. - 7 A.M.; (allegedly) Mulder, May 24; and Doggett, late September. (No internal dates provided. It is said to be roughly a "year" since Mulder visited Squamash, but given the events of Episode 8x14: This is Not Happening, it's more like under half a year. Doggett confirms that Mulder was abducted in May. He went to Squamash, PA on May 6-7, and returned there on the 24th. Doggett also reveals that Mulder falsified case reports, which explains how the dates might be off at the end of Season 7.)

This episode is, quite frankly, a catastrophe. I broke down the timeline and its inconsistencies in a previous post, here-- suffice it to say, it discredits its own claims in its own episode. But, we will be returning to this... gem later on.

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

Now that we have a framework for both seasons, we can begin to slot the pieces side by side.

"In the fall", Amor Fati: Mulder and CSM both undergo brain surgery. Mulder fully recovers (or does he?) while CSM deteriorates slowly over the course of a year.

May 6-7, The Gift: Mulder burns up one of his consecutive weekends by (allegedly) taking a trip to Squamash, Pennsylvania on May 6-7.

May 7: Mulder takes his first 370 mile trip (10 hours total) from D.C. to North Carolina and back. He will (allegedly) make three more consecutive weekend drives until his abduction in Requiem.

April 14 - May 1, Brand X: Mulder is hospitalized some length of time during his two weeks of recovery. Neither Scully nor the medical staff notice any medical abnormalities (i.e. odd or troubling physical responses, readouts, or charts) despite heavily monitoring his health.

May 8, Chimera: Mulder has a case ready for he and Scully to investigate (one that likely required the weekend to research-- more on that later.)

May 13-15, all things: Mulder burns up another consecutive weekend on a trip to England.

May 17-19, Fight Club: Mulder takes some heavy hits.

May 22-24, Je Souhaite: Mulder doesn't consider asking the genie-- not once-- to heal his brain disease.

May 31, Requiem: Mulder is abducted due to his "encephalitic trauma", courtesy of Biogenesis's ancient artifact.

June 1, Within: The Alien Bounty Hunter parades around Mulder's life, stealing his (and Scully's) computer.

June 2, Within: Doggett obtains rental car receipts, VISA card purchases, and year-long medical records, thereby coming to the conclusion that Mulder took four consecutive weekend drives (nearly 400 miles, over 10 hours) from D.C. to North Carolina. Doggett and his team do not find Mulder's gun taped under the apartment sink.

Late September, The Gift: Doggett finds a case from last May he and his team had missed. He also finds a bloody gun taped under Mulder's sink that he and his team had missed. He also finds an incriminating report that has Mulder and Scully's name on it that he and his team had missed. He does not check the dates against "Mulder's May Pilgrimages", nor does he corroborate the signatures and evidence with Scully.

Chronological order locked and loaded.

DEBUNKING AGENT DOGGETT'S (ESTIMATED) ITINERARY

Now, let's break down the evidence Doggett "unearths."

SUPPORTING EVIDENCE

In Within, Agent Doggett rests Mulder's brain disease on three rational (and one discredited) facts:

Mulder's surgery "in the fall" (Amor Fati)-- one Mulder did not, apparently, recover from. Doggett and his team discover "evidence" indicating a year-long decline which the files predecessor had kept secret from his medical doctor-partner.

Mulder's "four consecutive weekends" drives to North Carolina ("Same mileage each trip: 370 miles, 375 miles"), which means he either kept them hidden from Scully or she lied to Doggett when questioned.

Mulder's sudden, erratic purchases in May: flowers and a personally-inscribed headstone on the same VISA card.

Mulder's and Scully's missing computers and files (later proven to be the Alien Bounty Hunter's machinations.)

In The Gift, Agent Doggett discovers further "proof" to support his supposition:

Mulder (allegedly) took a trip to Squamash, Pennsylvania to investigate a case on May 6 (Saturday.)

Mulder (allegedly) returned to be healed by the Squamash creature on May 7.

Mulder (allegedly) turned down the opportunity to be healed in order to mercy kill the Creature.

Mulder (allegedly) hid his bloody "murder weapon" (an ankle gun) under his kitchen sink.

Mulder (allegedly) had Scully sign off on his closed report, with or without fully informing her.

Mulder (allegedly) placed his and Scully's careers in danger because of this falsified report... conveniently (post here.)

DESTRUCTIVE CONTRADICTIONS

Problem #1: Doggett Needs Four Weekends

As we've explored, ad nauseam: the car rental receipts Doggett finds in Mulder's desk plainly communicate four weekend trips in May.

Mulder burns up the first weekend of May on the Squamash trips: he arrives in Pennsylvania on the morning of May the 6th (Saturday) and doesn't leave until the early hours of May the 7th (Sunday.) He is then (allegedly) supposed to drive a 10 hour round trip-- without sleep, while (allegedly) suffering the painful effects of deteriorating "brain disease"-- and be back by Sunday night to prep for an X-Files stakeout on Monday. Both trips cannot coincide with each other, which means one-- or both-- have to go.

Mulder burns up a second weekend on his trip to England: he begins preparing to leave on a Saturday (estimated May 13) and arrives back a day or two later (estimated May 15.)

Mulder might burn up a third weekend recovering from Fight Club: the extent of his injuries would probably inhibit his ability to drive safely-- not to mention the possibility of a compounding, painful "brain disease."

Discounting The Gift (which is rife with inconsistencies and contradictions), two of the four necessary weekends were spent elsewhere.

In fact, the only weekend Doggett can rely on (per his own timeline) is the one following Je Souhaite-- three days before Mulder's abduction. (That weekend will be instrumental later.)

Problem #2: Doggett's "Evidence" Doesn't Match His Timeline

Mulder's VISA card made a lot of purchases over the course of May, some of them reasonable (flowers for his loved ones' graves) and some of them questionable (a headstone and rental cars.)

The VISA card's legitimacy was authenticated by the rental receipts on Mulder's desk-- but those rental dates don't match with Mulder's recorded movements (either by air date or canonical rewrite.) Discounting the Gift, at least two out of four weekends were spent in D.C. or England, not on the road back-and-forth from North Carolina.

Doggett doesn't question this.

That same VISA card was used to justify Mulder's tombstone purchase.

Doggett doesn't question this.

"Mulder" was spotted swiping FBI evidence in order to locate Gibson Praise, and was able to access "his" apartment as well as the office.

Doggett doesn't question this.

"Mulder" (allegedly) took two trips to Squamash, one the week before his disappearance-- the locals never described what he looked like, only testified that he questioned them and tried to kill the Creature later.

Doggett doesn't question this (even after seeing a doppelganger in Without.)

Mulder's VISA card, trips, "brain disease" diagnosis, bloody gun, and falsified report only pop up once he can't challenge their authenticity.

Doggett doesn't question this.

To give the man some credit, most of this can be excused away with the rationale that he doesn't believe in far-reaching conspiracies or boogie men trying to take down Mulder in the dark.

Indisputably, though, the onus is on the writers for tragically mucking up their timeline. Or helpfully, as it's easier to dismiss the entire brain disease arc as a hoax based on these claims.)

Problem #3: The Gift Collapses In On Itself

As previously mentioned, I've combed over The Gift's problems at length (again, post here); but let's go through it once more for totality's sake:

Mulder's trips to Squamash and his trips to his mother's and sister's graves can't coincide, not with late-stage "brain disease."

A solo case, a bloody gun, and falsified signatures-- each piece of "evidence" was missed by Doggett and his team, despite the fervor of the FBI to blame Mulder's disappearance on his erratic nature. And each piece of "evidence" conveniently materialized when Mulder or Scully (or both) needed to be eliminated from the files.

Scully never confirms nor denies the report's authenticity, nor her participation in signing off on it. Conveniently.

In protecting Scully, Skinner and Doggett might have incriminated themselves-- or passed over the clue that would unravel the conspiracy behind the trips, VISA purchases, and "Mulder"'s many appearances.

The last visit by "Mulder" to Squamash is unaccounted for. Say, perhaps, that he had traveled there on May 6 and shot the Creature on May 7-- that doesn't explain why he returned on the 24th. Unless, of course, it wasn't him.

Problem #4: Mulder Would Not Be Physically Capable

Not only would Mulder have to be hiding his (hard-to-miss) brain disease symptoms from Scully-- a medical doctor-- he would have to be squeezing in 10-hour weekend drives routinely after physically-demanding x-files all week.

Problem #5: Scully Was Unaware of Mulder's Weekend Trips

Within posits that Agent Scully was utterly in the dark about her partner's weekend activities-- which is, frankly, ludicrous given her and Mulder's history of constant communication and recent commingling.

This can be explained away with one or two considerations--

Scully was lying to Doggett about not knowing where Mulder was going (North Carolina, i.e. his mother's and sister's graves.)

Scully knew he would disappear every weekend but never bothered to ask where he was going (e.g. spending healthy time apart, caching up on other obligations, etc.)

--but it was not canonically intended. As if that ever stopped the writers or the fans.

Problem #6: Mulder Never Confirms Nor Denies His Diagnosis

In Deadalive, Scully describes Mulder's condition as, "Blood, electrolyte imbalances, a loss of brain function. I strongly believe that Mulder is infected with an alien virus." (Another one, or the same one?) And when Mulder wakes, she tells him, "Whatever neurological disorder you were suffering from, it's no longer detectable. After a course of transfusions and antivirals it has rid your body of the virus that was invading it. The scars on your face, on your hands, on your feet, on your chest, they, they seem to be repairing themselves. Mulder, you are in perfect health."

Neither then nor later does Scully say "your brain disease from last fall is healed"-- in fact, both seem to be discussing the super soldier virus he was infected with on the ship (a sleight of hand for the writers to dodge the ramifications of the brain disease arc.) In fact, is Mulder ever told he, supposedly, had brain disease?

Mulder was taken due to "encephalitic trauma", not his brain disease (since none of the other abductees reported ill health in their spouses or missing community members.)

Mulder was infected with "an alien virus" bound and determined to turn him into a super soldier.

Mulder was returned "deadalive."

Mulder was healed by taking him off life support.

So, he was likely told about his "encephalitic trauma" and his close brush with a super soldier zombie "alien" virus... but was Mulder ever specifically told about the (alleged) year-long degenerative brain disease? The one that doesn't kill slowly, and only claimed CSM's life because of the latter man's presumptive co-current comorbidities?

I think not. Whether Mulder did or did not have brain disease, the writers seemed to want to brush that arc briskly under the rug and never acknowledge it ever again-- which is exactly what they did.

BRAIN DISEASE BELIEVERS, THERE IS STILL HOPE

Despite the ravages this meta has wrecked on the brain disease arc, there is still a perfectly reasonable-- and dare I say, logical-- explanation that would seamlessly factor in Mulder's brain disease. One could still indulge in angst alongside Season 7's original intent and Season 8's post hoc hypothetical with a guilt-free conscience.

May wonders never cease.

Except: the timeline must be drastically shortened.

THREE THEORETICAL TRUTHS

It's all come to this: three possibilities laid out before us.

Each idea works with the same conceit: Mulder was irrefutably (per the loopholes left in the writers' wake) setup by his enemies-- incongruous purchases, trips, and medical records collaboratively pulled together to blacken his name forever in the FBI-- with Scully's reputation soon to follow. The attempts ended with his burial-- which is doubly ironic, considering he rose from the dead three months later-- and the discovery of her pregnancy; but the "proof" of "their" endeavors stuck to the files like smoke.

MULDER WAS RECENTLY DIAGNOSED WITH "BRAIN DISEASE"

According to this theory,

Mulder would have had to suffer a recent relapse in order to fit in with the "cerebral inflammation" recurrence timescale.

Mulder would have had to suffer another trauma to kick off an autoimmune encephalitic malfunction.

Mulder's relapse couldn't have taken place post-Signs and Wonders or post-Brand X, since Scully would have observed the resulting tremors, mood swings, or early small-scale seizures.

Fight Club fits the aforementioned criteria and gives Mulder a free weekend to drive to his mother's and sister's graves before Je Souhaite.

Mulder would have to have been given a "to be determined" precaution rather than a full-scale diagnosis because he did not wish to be healed in Je Souhaite.

Mulder would have had to be told bad news post-Je Souhaite and pre-Requiem.

"Cerebral inflammation", as has been hammered home, is not a lengthy death: sustained damage and other comorbid factors are responsible for potentially killing the patient after the disease has been treated. As we also know, "cerebral inflammation" can reoccur via erroneous immune signals or a second traumatic event (which would kick off said erroneous immune signals.)

Mulder was in the hospital three times after Amor Fati: once in Signs and Wonders, once in Brand X, and once in Fight Club. Scully was on hand for the first two concerns, and would have seen the results of his painstaking tests and recovery. But she wouldn't have been able to witness his records in Fight Club (since she was recovering herself.) It is wholly possible that the repeated stresses Mulder's body weathered caused a relapse, one which would have been so new and so recent that it wouldn't have manifested unmistakable symptoms-- yet-- before his abduction in Bellefleur. Given autoimmune encephalitis's grace period, that gives a few weeks to three months before Scully could, theoretically, have figured things out. If that be the case, it also slots onto one of two weekends Mulder had free to travel to North Carolina (Fight Club's case wrapped up on Friday the 19th, a day before Saturday the 20th.)

Most importantly, it saves Mulder's dignity. The greatest injustice of the brain disease arc is that it implies a level of ignorance he fostered on Scully's part-- a proclivity to lie by omission rather than openly share the truth between them. While Mulder does have a history of holding back the complete truth -- his exes and past partners, his retrieval of Scully's ova during the cancer arc, his concerns about Emily's paternity, and his mutual feelings towards her-- he was more vulnerably agape after the consummation of their relationship (displaying his fear quietly in Requiem's "I can't risk losing you" plea.) And let's face it: Mulder isn't equipped for the long con-- Scully unfailingly spots and deduces his schemes or aims.

Combine these factors with Mulder's forgetfulness in Je Souhaite-- not a thought was spared towards his mortality when offered three wishes-- and it makes sense why the medical evaluation and determination interval should be kept short.

By giving Mulder a smaller window of time to process, it falls in line with his and Scully's established character traits: his need to withdraw (e.g. Conduit, Pusher, The Red and the Black, One Son, Amor Fati, etc.) before making and sharing a decision with Scully-- and her innate ability to smell out protracted brooding like a bloodhound.

(And, as formerly mentioned, Mulder never buys a headstone, regardless-- no matter how many falsified VISA cards Doggett finds.)

MULDER DID NOT KNOW HE HAD "BRAIN DISEASE"

This second theory rests on the first's medical possibility, but weaves farther down a different path.

The same chronological order applies-- i.e. autoimmune encephalitis recurrence post-Fight Club.

However, Mulder is unaware of his ailing health: his doctors miss the early symptoms during their examinations; and since Scully is otherwise preoccupied (i.e. recovering), it's never notated.

Since AIEs have an additional buffer period of up to three months, and can be hard to catch without physical symptoms or a thorough MRI, it's plausible that Mulder never knew.

This would also fit with the Bellefleur abductees' "encephalitic trauma", strangely: their old injuries could have been recently triggered-- or forcefully triggered once on the UFO-- in the same manner that Mulder's injury was inflamed post-Fight Club.

This idea plays with the best of both worlds: Mulder's decay looming like a ticking time bomb over his and Scully's happiness; his and Scully's unbroken dedication to the truth and each other. A A VISA card and headstone, grave flowers and falsified reports were setup ahead of time-- orchestrated by the CSM's lingering shadow faction in allegiance with the aliens: Mulder eagerly offered as the price the overlords demand from the humans.

It also works beautifully with Season 7's intended canon (Mulder whole and hale, with no brain disease in sight) and with his and Scully's miscommunication in Three Words (he assuming she's referring to the super soldier virus, she presuming he knows she knows about his brain disease.)

MULDER DID NOT HAVE "BRAIN DISEASE"

Lastly, Mulder was not dying from brain disease:

Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz (and the other writers) did not conceptualize Mulder's brain disease when writing Season 7.

Mulder displayed zero symptoms in Season 7 in the weeks and months leading up to its finale.

Mulder did not wish to be healed when he came face-to-face with a genie in Je Souhaite.

The brain disease timeline Agent Doggett digs up in Season 8 is built on manipulable evidence and irrevocably, triumphantly falls apart on itself.

Mulder never confirms nor denies his alleged diagnosis.

According to this theory, Mulder recovered in "Amor Fati" and did not deteriorate further. Instead, he and Scully investigated their subsequent cases with lighter hearts as they finally consolidated their relationship, found his sister, and made peace with their individual and mutual choices in life. When Mulder was hospitalized for venomous snake bites, he did not display any neurological damage. During the events of Closure and En Ami, Scully quickly ascertained that CSM was suffering and dying-- visible, physical symptoms her partner did not have. When Mulder was hospitalized, again, for an infestation of beetles in his lungs, neither his MRIs nor close, personal observation indicated that he had late-stage brain deterioration and neurological or circulatory damage. When Mulder was hospitalized a third time (alongside Scully), whatever (off-screen) complications arose then were not enough to worry him when granted three wishes an episode later.

If this be the case, the evidence "uncovered" in Within and The Gift would have been outright fabricated. This hypothesis aligns in all respects with the flimsy and superbly dissonant pieces canon offers at different times-- information only forthcoming enough to cast doubt on Mulder's and Scully's good name before disappearing immediately afterwards. Evidence, moreover, that is never corroborated between either agent, or between themselves and Agent Doggett.

It would fit with Season 8's timeline, too: perhaps Mulder makes anomalous trips in May-- with or without Scully's knowledge-- but the dates of at least half of those alleged trips clash with weekends he spent on, or preparing for, other investigations. And perhaps Mulder did investigate Squamash (doubtful): his actions there could still be divorced from an ill but hopeful man.

THE TRUE BELIEVERS

Of course, you can always headcanon Mulder did, indeed, have a year-long brain condition; but that would entail a total disregard of the facts. (Then again, when has that stopped canon before?)

FINAL VERDICT

As enlightening, entertaining, or engaging as this project has been, it will probably not shift or shape minds: whether someone believes in the brain disease or not depends on that person's emotional, observational, and intellectual tastes and pursuits.

My only hope is that this work creates or fosters a new perspective.

CONCLUSION

This has been my most researched and re-edited meta to date.

Thank you to @sagan-starstuff for affirming that, no, the brain disease made no sense and that, yes, I hadn't lost my mind. Hopefully the science presented tracks.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

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lovingthewildlife · 1 day ago

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Over my head?

So without going into the drama and making a long story really long, I have an ex who has issues with my personal space. It got to the point that I decided to straight up move out of the city to make sure I could get the hell away from him. The way our relationship ended wasn't great, and one of my former co-workers suggested a marine.

The idea was great in theory. I wouldn't be alone, I'd potentially have someone big to scary off my ex if he showed up on my doorstep. Perfect, right?

Well.. I get to the shelter and I start looking around and there was a Blood Raven that I honestly thought would be a great fit. I've got the paperwork about half filled out, when in walks a... uh... 'return', I guess is the best way to put it. The poor guy looked so lost and upset, but I was already part way through the paperwork, and I wasn't about to tell this Raven that I'm not taking him home.

So now I have two big boys sharing my personal space. I was fairly prepared and read up on some of the different marines so I figured that the Blood Raven would fit in with me but I have no idea about this new fella. He's so sweet and quiet, and I think he's nervous that I'm going to send him back, so it'll probably take some time for him to open up.

I guess he's a rarer type? I had to sign off on periodical Inquisitional check ups, which makes sense I suppose if he's been sent back once before. They just want to make sure that he's okay in his new home right?

Does anyone know what to expect with a Lamenter?

Gotta go, BR's found my library and he's decided to reorganize everything...

#space marine husbandry #mun writes

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hauntedtyrantmoon · 3 days ago

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Analysing the characters in @chronicallyonline101 's fanfic; Dumb Killers, because i was reading the most recent chapter and things started to click in my head AND THE THEORY BAN HAS FINALLY BEEN LIFTED so i'm going to settle for character analysis before i start on theorising and im not going crazy okay lets go

i was originally gonna send this into pookies inbox but it got too big :(

im going to preface this analysis by saying I dont think we, as readers, have ever truly seen the characters of her fic behave 'normally', the entire fic is seen through the POV of a very bubbly, extremely nieve MC who makes excuses for bad behaviour and encourages her friends recklessness. There are only a very few select moments in which we see the characters as their truest selves, and that is either when there are a few paragraphs of exposition explaining the situation and emotions, or, when MC isn't present. I.E. Gelato, Sorbet, Illuso and Melone in the most recent chapters... MORE UNDER THE CUT

Since Melone is the character closest to the MC, i first assumed he'd be the one she sees as the most 'real', BUT HE ISN'T, and i realised that during the most recent chapter. When interacting with the MC, Melone is bubbly, loud, open, immature, and friendly, but the moment she left the room - leaving him alone with Illuso, he became closed off, quiet, mature and calculated, this is a LOT like how he acts in the series

This could easily be brushed off as "Oh, he just isn't as close with Illuso," but i think that reason is stupid. At this point in the fic, Illuso has been on the team for two years, living in the same house, sharing the same meals, seeing each other EVERY day, i don't think he'd be that closed off with someone he knows that well - I definitely think MC's rose-tinted-vision romanticises the behavior of her friends, and i think it's very clever that slowly, the audience is seeing cracks in this vision so that (if the theory that MC 'dies' is true) eventually, when MC gets separated from the team, their shifts in personality wont be too severe.

I think Melone's closed-off personality comes from his upbringing, i wont go into detail here cuz idk the regulations BUT if you've read DK then YOU KNOW;

Of all the characters, Melone has only had his backstory explored once. Prosciutto had six chapters dedicated to his backstory, Formaggio had five, Illuso had three (and more, coming up, from my conversations with the dearest author/loveofmylife) but Melone had ONE. Less than one, he had a paragraph, in the first chapter, and then it was shut down. Hasn't been mentioned since, ASIDE, from little comments:

"I felt like a monster, for hurting you." - Melone, Ch5

"He doesn't like talking about it. I think he's ashamed." - MC, Ch12

From these, we know that Melone hasn't spoken to anyone about what happened to him since running away with MC. He doesn't like what happened to him, he feels guilty for what happened, and he's unhealthily attatched to the ONE person who knows about it - I think his closed off personality comes from a place of shame and upset, he was forced to mature a lot faster than anyone else, he wasn't socialised as a child, he doesn't know how to live without shame or guilt AND he doesn't know how to show affection without lust bcs growing up that is all he knew.

And whats worse, is that MC thinks thats normal. For years, it was just her and Melone; her parents never socialised her, and though she had friends, Melone influenced her more than they ever had a chance to. She doesn't realise the way he behaves is related to his trauma, and so, accidentally reaffirms his behaviour by rewarding him for it. In turn, he rubs off on her, and she then thinks its normal to kiss her friends with tongue!

I don't actually have a lot of analysis on Risotto and that's because he's one of the more elusive characters of the fic, we've barely been given his backstory, BUT, from the sneak peek we we're given I think he's going to have his moments in the near future !!

The two are a trauma-bonded pair, and it's clear that nobody in La Squadra realises this; they've just accepted that the two are closer than most, and that there's nothing they can do about it.

Another thing I've noticed about Melone is that he evades his own issues by psychoanalysing and trying to 'fix' the people around him.

What I do know, is that he has matured a LOT from the start of the fic; I loved the way he was so shy at the begining, but it makes me sad that the only reason he was like that is because he was being emotionally manipulated by Polpo ☹️

Most fics make Risotto a stone wall, he's the leader, he's hardcore, he doesn't feel emotion, but the thing I love about Risotto in this fic is that he's a victim, everything that could have gone wrong went wrong, AND AT THE SAME TIME there are so many raw ass lines in DK that i cant even count them on my fingers - When he accused Polpo of kidnapping him, RAW, staying stonefaced while Formaggio cries on the phone, RAW, tearing MC's tongue out of her mouth with his teeth, RAW, he is so cool and yet at the same time he is so pathetic he makes me want to get on all fours and start meowing

There's definitely been character development though, he was very shy and quiet at the start of the fic and now he's actually quite bossy and authorative IT MAKES ME WANT TO CRY... i cant wait to see more of him in the future...

Now, for Prosciutto. Prosciutto, Prosciutto, Prosciutto... there's so much to say, and yet, I am speechless... i have to light a cigarette for this one 🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬

One thing I do find interesting is that since realising Polpo was emotionally abusing him, his loyalty toward the team grew thicker than his loyalty toward Passione - I believe, if Gelato and Sorbet die, and if MC gets hurt, then it wont be hard for him to turn away from Passione.

Okay. so. I'm going to do Pesci and Prosciutto as one analysis because they're two characters of the same coin, and their backstory is SO entwined it's hard not to,

“One was born of hate, and another of love.” - Ch12

GOD WHAT IF I KILL MYSELF WHAT DO YOU MEAAANNNN AUUGGHHH Prosciutto's mothers abuse DEFINITELY bred a monster, he lives by the ideology of: "The wolf who weeps after a kill is no better than the wolf who laughs. Your guilt doesn't purify you." And that's explored SO well in Ch8 where MC feels bad for killing an old man and his daughter (more on this in MCs part because woaow), and he's like, "Well you had to do it, so, stop feeling bad."

He was abused, he recognises that. He hates his mother for that abuse, valid, he hates Pesci for 'causing' that abuse, INVALID.

Much like MC said in the most recent chapter, by despising Pesci, Prosciutto is only repeating the abuse that his mother inflicted on him. It's a chain of contempt, and he REFUSES to break it, so much so that he is hurting the people around him (like when he hit MC ☹️)

In a way, I can kind of understand why he's upset, unlike the rest of the team that joined La Squadra unwillingly, he made every decision that led him there. He knew what he was getting into, he was fully prepared for it, he faked his death to join that team and he did it just to get away from the only family he had, the family that made him miserable,

And he was happy. He had friends, authority, a crush, and then Pesci shows up, in HIS safe place, with HIS friends, holding the arm of the only person who knew his old insecurities about of him, the girl he likes, what is he supposed to do??? Just forgive Pesci and move on??? Hell no!!

He remembers EVERYTHING that was denied to him by his family, he remembers how his mother favoured his brother, and then MC takes Pesci's side in the argument and it's like his entire world comes crashing down around him. icl, i don't blame him for what he did, Illuso pushed the narrative that Prosciutto was 'using' MC to get back at Pesci but I think he did what he did as a way to get closer to her because he was actually afraid of loosing her.

"You couldn't let me have one thing, could you?" - Prosciutto, Ch13

I think he was talking about MC there

UGFHH AND PESCI it was probably so hard on Pesci because he did NOTHING wrong. he was born at the wrong time, to the wrong people. He doesn't know why Prosciutto faked his death, but he forgave him, and his forgiveness pisses Prosciutto off further because how dare Pesci have the AUDACITY to assume Prosciutto wanted that... hhhrrgrgr

It's quite clever I think, the way the narrative was presented to us, we always saw Prosciutto as a perfect little victim, hurt by his mother and hurt by the world, but then Pesci is introduced and we slowly realise that Prosciutto isn't a perfect victim, he is actually just as bad as his mother - I think it was a very compelling way to present a victim who turned into their abuser, ESPECIALLY, when his behaviour began to give MC flashbacks to her abusive parents.

I'm glad that Pesci and Prosciutto have kinda made up now, and I can't wait to see them get along in future 🥓🍍

FORMAGGIO NEXT 🧀 one of my favourite things about Formaggio is how easily he and MC are able to bounce off of each other, I think had Melone not existed, then Formaggio would probably be the person closest to MC. He has a very laid back personality, chill with literally everything, and despite how unserious he is, he is so threatening.

THATS WHAT DREW ME INTO THE FIC ACTUALLY, most fics will take one trait of a character and turn it into their WHOLE personality (Ghiaccio being angry, Melone being horny, for example) but this fic does well to explore their personalities to the fullest and show how they react when put in different situations.

Formaggio thinks of himself a coward, and at first, he's right! In the first two chapters he is introduced in, CH6 and CH7 he doubts himself, turns to MC for protection, cowers into corners and accepts that he's probably going to die at the hands of La Squadra, BUT, as the fic goes on, things change!

I think his character develompent is heavily rooted in the way he perceives himself - when MC finds him, he's a nobody drug peddalar stealing money from people so that he can try and get Gwess out of the foster system. It's made clear from the get-go that despite his cocky persona, he hates himself. He blames himself for his mothers death, blames himself for not being there when Gwess needed him, and blames himself for the death of his two coworkers, nobody likes him, he has nothing to live for:

"The only thing keeping him alive was that damn cat, and even she hated his guts." - CH8

BUT THIS SHIFTS, and I think the shift started when Melone tried to kill him in CH9: Illuso the Provocateur, one of my FAV chapters ever. As the two fight, I think Formaggio starts to realise that he isn't the only person who feels so hopeless and downtrodden, and it's with this that he finds comfort and solace within the Hitman team.

Formaggio in the more recent chapters is a completely different guy to the Formaggio in the first few chapters and I think it's amazing how much he has developed across the fic. The fact that he stood up to both Polpo and Risotto in CH13 was soo UUHH it had me smiling so proud honestly.

I ALSO LIKE THE WAY HE WAS CONVEYED AS DECIETFUL. We knew right off the bat that was a liar, because he lied to MC about having no friends so that she would pity him, but the whole plotline with Illuso was 😙🤌 CHEFS KISS

Speaking of Illuso, oh... my poor... poor baby...

FIRST OF ALL i think there's some hints to him being trans in the fic, BECAUSE IT HAS NEVER BEEN OUTRIGHT SAID, BUT:

"Is that your real name?" Gelato leant across the table curiously, a peculiar quirk in his brow. Illuso took to shaking his head.

"No, I picked it myself. It's nice, isn't it?" - CH9

AND

"Oh," She uttered a name you didn't recognise, "You didn't tell me you'd brought a girl over, she's so pretty. What's the name of this little gattina?"

Illuso winced. "I don't go by that name anymore, Mammina, remember---"

"---Oh, right, it's," The older woman paused for a moment, pressing a hand to her warm forehead. "Illuso... sorry, I forget..." - CH14

🤨🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️??? as a trans dude I related to that last bit TOO much, my nan ALWAYS forgets my name and I don't have the heart to get mad at her because i KNOW she struggles with memory, so I just gently remind her and hope that this time it'll stick... Illuso was so gentle with his mother, and felt bad for having to remind her of his new name, I just.. GRAHHH even if that wasn't the intention, he's trans to me 💔 my pretty mirror boy

Aside from that, he is so EVIL in this fic and I LOVE IT: he bullies Pesci, he bullies Formaggio, he bullies Gelato, he even bullies Risotto, this man is MEAN and yet at the same time, is SO SOFT toward MC it makes me want to cream every time i read an interaction between the two.

Of all the characters in this fic, Illuso makes me the saddest. As mean as he is, there's something so sadly human about him that makes me want to KMS - the fact that he was just 19 joining the team, he had dreams and aspirations, wanted to go to higher education and do something with his life, but it all crumbled when his mother fell sick and he became her sole caretaker, EVEN WORSE, when Formaggio stole all his money and his mother got sicker and sicker.

Ultimately, he enjoys being on the team, but every so often it flashes through my mind that he is only there because he was backed into a corner and I feel a tear leave my eye.

AND TJE WORST PART IS THAT HE LIES TO HIS MOTHER ABOUT EVRRYTHING, in her eyes, her son has a job and a fiancee, he's going to get married in Florence and MC is going to be wearing her old wedding ring and UGGHH the fact that NONE OF THAT IS TRUE is what makes me think his mother may die soon, because there is NO WAY illuso can uphold all those lies:

He never gave MC that ring, MC doesn't even know that his mother thinks of her as Illuso's partner, nobody is going to Florence, and he hasn't got a job, he's a criminal living undercover.

Abby. Abby DO NOT kill that mans mother. Your name will be in my suicide note.

This is all I'm going to write for now... P2 coming soon, with Ghiaccio, Gelato, Sorbet, MC and her mother... along with a few side characters that have interested me...

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chaotic-fandom-hoarder · 15 hours ago

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GUYSGUYSGUYS I STARTED THINKING ABOUT ALEX WILLIAMS’S UNNAMED FRIEND AND HAD A THOUGHT PROCESS

Okok, so, we know that Alex had a friend who was gotten by the Lankmann foundation and who gave Alex the tapes, but as of right now we don’t really know who that person could have been. I started thinking about that today, and although this theory isn’t really likely or really supported by canon, Consider:

What if Sean Grim was the friend?

Sean Grim, the skeptic from the Haunted Halloween PSA. This guy

As of right now, he’s only showed up twice, once in this clip and once as a different take for this clip that was scrapped in In Loving Memory. But just bear with me here, hear me out.

First of all, he is one of three people who were interviewed in that video. The others were the owner of Grimmso’s, who was solely there to drive in how weird the robbery was, and Alex Williams, who was a witness to the Smiling Snatcher disappearances and ended up becoming Really Important to the story later on. Did his appearance there seem weird to anyone else on a rewatch, or is it just me?

Like, folks, his first appearance is questioning a news story and saying that nothing the news says should be fully trusted. That sounds like the kind of person who would see the Lankmann Foundation show up and go “hmmm, nope, I don’t trust that.” And then go looking for more information maybe?

Second thing, think about how Alex Williams was introduced in that first volume. They were just a side character who only showed up for less than a minute, and then ended up being the main character in Volume One. Add to it that, this might start sounding a bit “crazed theorist” over here, but consider the fact that Volume Zero isn’t just a single recording of a tv or from a camcorder or something mundane. This tape is described as probably being haunted, and shows off information that the general public weren’t supposed to know. Thinking about this leads to the idea that everything we’re shown in that tape is deliberate. Everything is important in some way.

So, Sean Grim hasn’t been mentioned yet since Volume One. I think that he is going to end up being just as important as Alex. I don’t have an idea of when he might show up again, but I have a feeling that he will, and considering Alex’s unnamed friend, I have a feeling that Sean could be him.

Now, my theory is very far from bulletproof. Sean literally shows up for less than a minute and all he’s doing is dismissing the weird break-in at Grimmso’s. In fact, there’s also a possibility that he could end up taking an antagonistic role in DOAI, maybe even being on the side of the Lankmann Foundation, as in In Loving Memory, we see Sean doing a different take of the clip he shows up in before being berated by the person filming for not selling the script enough. Paying someone to dismiss the idea of the veldigun does sound like something the Lankmann Foundation could do, as even if it’s before the foundation was created, Lankmann probably still would have enough sway to keep it quiet. It’s very much a possibility, just like the possibility that my hunch could be wrong and Sean could never show up again.

But I’m just. Idk, we don’t have a lot of information on where the lore could go, and Sean Grim not being knowingly involved in the plot yet, plus Alex’s friend being unnamed, it doesn’t feel like a coincidence to me. He has to be important in some way, so my theory as of now is that he is Alex Williams’ friend who found the archive and gave it to Alex before Lankmann got him.

Chat? What do we think about this idea?

#GUYS WHAT IF???#dreams of an insomniac #doai #alex williams doai #sean grim doai #ramblings #doai theory #long post

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quercus-queer · 10 days ago

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My theory is that Mark Scout has so many deep seated issues and trauma that he compartmentalizes everything and therefore cannot reintegrate until he accepts every part of himself… something something accepting and healing your inner child with empathy and love instead of neglecting and abusing him

#I refuse to believe that there is no pay off for all that reintegration stuff lol #mark scout #severance #have I watched the finale yet? no #BUT THIS HAS BEEN MY THEORY FROM THE START OF SHOW #and clearly love did not transcend severance except mayhaps Irving #and if they go down the path of Irving naturally reintegrating then that makes complete sense because Irving is a deeply introspective #person and understand himself and seemingly has respect and empathy for his innie

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pheyphem · 2 months ago

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ignoring the obvious. is anyone else really fucking intrigued/confused by this room

it is so STARKLY different from the rest of the phouse like it has fuzzy padded brown walls?? like they have a reason for every design choice in the phouse so why did they go with fuzzy brown walls in here and here only (it seems)??/?

drop your ideas below

#only semi-explanations i can think of are:#1. it isn't their house and it just so happens that they took multiple photos that they then posted in the same non-phouse location #(likely family's house if this is the case cause when else would they be this relaxed at someone else's house/whatever other place lol)#2. this is one of the “secret safe rooms” dan alluded to in.. A Video i honestly don't remember where lol pls if someone knows tell me #(i do know that phil also showed a secret door in i think one of his “answering questions i'd normally avoid” vids? or a tiktok i forgor)#and for those curious: first pic is from 9:46 dan's bday livestream and the second one is 10:45 wdapteo 4 #and in case it matters (dk why it would but just a fact i learned while retrieving these images):#for the first image afaik we don't know the day it was taken but we can safely assume it was taken before nov 27 2023 #cause that's when the catboy photos were posted & this image came up right before that one when phil was showing off the yearly dan pics #so sometime between june 12 & nov 27 2023 (since phil would've started collecting new pics of dan after his birthday had passed)#and then the second image would've been sometime between feb 21 and 27 2024 #because the last text that has a date that we see before this one is from the 21st #and then the texts we see immediately after that are from when dan was doing wad in frankfurt which according to phandom wiki was feb 27th #which gives me the idea that it's proooobably not my first theory?#since why would they be at family's house at such random times of the year #ANYWAY that's all from me please drop your thoughts i'm curious to hear #forgive me if we've already had a moment like this and figured it out and i'm just late to the party. but theorizing fun so idc #dnp #phan #amazingphil #daniel howell #phandom #me post #photo

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agentsterling · 2 days ago

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It was true. Even in a world where super humans were common place, where aliens rained from the sky, and science could create suits of armor capable of going toe to toe with gods, it was mental health and the dangers of not seeking help that people thought were a myth.

Sterling tried not to look too desperate for a good whiff of the man's cigar. It had only been three years since he had gone basically cold turkey on smoking but there were certain parts of the habit that still very much stuck with him and that he secretly craved. Sometimes he visited Agent Miller just to take in the smell of his office or his clothes. It was familiar. Comforting in way most didn't understand.

"Well, a disorder is a lack of order. In most medical cases that makes sense but for this one..." Sterling paused to think about it. "Yeah. Makes it seem far too negative. Honestly, media is the real enemy. Most shows and movies that feature it have some horror element to it. Then again, your profession doesn't do it much justice either." Sterling grinned, making a joke. He wasn't sure they were quite there in terms of friendly banter, even if Jake agreed that he was funny.

So Steven may not have thought he was funny, eh? That brought up an interesting clue and Sterling tilted his head slightly as Jake spoke. Sterling had said alters love him because he's funny. Was Jake admitting that Steven was also an alter or was he reading too much into it? Him being funny and alters loving him were two separate phrases. He'd have to keep looking for clues on that one if he didn't outright ask. His theory that there were more than just the two of them in there was starting to hold water.

"No worries. I have a feeling I'll win him over. The Egyptians and I share of love of cats. The sphinx exhibit is going to be quite a discussion for us both." Sterling chuckled, gave a sigh of relief, and scratched his nose with his thumb nail.

"I'll admit, this is not a conversation I thought I'd be having today and you are the last person I expected to see on my rare trip to London, but the surprise of it alone has made it quite interesting. The topic bumps it up to downright riveting."

An interesting take the man in front of him has on the world they live in; Seeing it as a perfect recipe for a man like Jake to be, and... as he thinks about it, that might be true, in a way. Everyone's fucked, in one way or another - either because the planet seems to be falling apart further and further the longer mankind exists, or because they are very far from being normal and struggle through their own existence.

Many heroes, as some like to call themselves. People with powers, man-made or nature-given. Many who cannot deal with it, many who try to deal with it for them. Huh.

Jake hums out a somewhat thoughtful noise again as he takes another drag, tilts his head to one side, thinking. Well, perhaps Sterling's right with that one; And yet most people don't understand what D.I.D is, or why it exists. Would rather been told that someone's able to shoot lasers from their eyes than to listen to a man explain that a child once went through so much trauma that their soul split into fragments which now live within a shared body.

"Honestly, amigo? We don't care about whatever's appropriate or not. Terminology-wise, I mean." Dark brown eyes wander back to the man next to him, with Jake offering a somewhat amused gaze as they lock eyes. He knows what Sterling is talking about, what he's hinting at. "---We just think that the term 'disorder' is making our condition sound... too negative. We're alive because of it, after all." Yeah, that. Jake arches a brow, not at all visually affected or offended by anything that has just been said - from both himself or the other, as a matter of fact. Just doing some casual talk.

"Besides that - you do you." Gloved fingers slips from the pocket of his pants, a simple wave of his hand, before they disappear again. "We have heard, and seen, a lot."

A smirk then, one of many, with Jake taking one more drag of aromatic smoke. He looks down at his cigar, contemplating whether he's done for now or not, shrugs to himself as he cocks his hips and tips more ash away from his guilty pleasure.

"Funny, huh? ---Gotta ask Steven about that one." The smirk widens, with Jake tilting his head toward Sterling as his gaze returns to the other, amusement persisting. "Don't think he thought of you as funny earlier, all things considered. But... I'm sure you'll get a chance to redeem yourself. I made it easier, already - told you about us. He doesn't have to do that bit anymore."

A big step, with Steven not needing to be worried about accidentally saying too much. He can relax now, next time he faces Sterling again for that museum tour he's going to give tomorrow.

"However, you might be in luck when to comes to me; I'm quite entertained, all things considered. An interesting conversation we're having here, isn't it?"

#threegoldfish

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rafyki · 4 months ago

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I think something that for me really sets aside Jack & Joker from other Thai dramas is its narrative structure. Thai dramas usually have a very simple narrative structure where things just keeps happening without a proper flow - I mean, something happens, it gets resolved, and then something new happen that keeps the story move; you know, all those little problems that aren't really all connected together (like, the main characters get together and then someone new appears that comes in between them; or it turns out that, idk, the family was homophobic all along, or that one of the characters actually had a complicated relationship with their family - things like these that are disconnected).

Maybe it's because Jack and Joker has a pretty solid and complicated plot, but something that I really love about it is the way everything that happens is connected, everything is a direct consequence of the characters' actions. It's like this since the first episode until the last one - the plot is brought forward by the characters' actions, everything they do has consequences on everything and everyone else. Like, Joke seeks Jack's forgiveness, so he wants to steal the ring for him, and he works with Tattoo and Hoy -> Tattoo steals the necklace which causes problems for everyone -> they need to steal the necklace back -> Jack meets Rose again, which causes everything else to happen, etc etc

Everything is connected. And I think it all comes back to one of the series' themes, which is that everything we do has consequence, that even if out intentions are good we can't predict what our actions will cause; that we live in a community and that we cannot think about ourselves only bc every time we do something that can end up influencing someone else's life. that we can't be selfish in a community.

#jack and joker #jack and joker: u steal my heart #jack & joker #jack & joker: u steal my heart!#jack and joker the series #my posts #ive been thinking about this since i forst started watching it #the narrative structure is built so well #everything that happens in connected which means that everything makes sense #and thats so why the foreshadowing works so well #nothing happens in itself #nothing the characters do hasnno consequences #everything happens for a reason and everything can cause problems #this is what joke fails to see for most pf the shows #that everything he does even if he has the best intentions for jack #can cause problems for everyone else #it keeps happening since the first episode #its what happens when he steal Jack's ring from aran and when he steals the ring for boss #and its not only joke of course it goes for everyone else too #this series is so beautifully done in every aspect #and I've been studying a little about the theory of narrative structure for my original writing #so now im noticing so many details about it #anyway if you ever think i might be done talking about j&j then think again bc im most definitely not

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orcelito · 5 months ago

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I do find it so funny that I will graduate college days away from my birthday. Like my birthday is literally in between the end of the semester ("graduation") and commencement

It really will be like a joint graduation & birthday party for me lmao

#speculation nation #i dont really do birthday parties anymore. havent in a long time. mostly just go out and do smth fun around my bday. ya kno #also have cake but like not in a party way. just like. here's cake lol #but im probably only gonna graduate from college once. which means i might as well live it up and all.#invite all sorts of extended family and people who have known me. etc etc.#actually it just kinda sunk in that i am. Computer and Information Technology (Systems Analysis and Design focus) w a minor in Communication #like those are words. it's a lot of words but actually it really is pretty accurate?? like that's indeed what ive been studying.#now how much i *remember* is another question. considering how long ive taken to get thru school lol #but that's what people will see on my degree. that's my Thing. graduated in Computer Systems and Talking.#idk it's just weird to have spent so much of my life on this and like That's the culmination. it took so much work.#even beyond a normal 4 years. i switched my major *twice*. switched my minor too.#first year engineering to undecided liberal arts (as a temp major trying to switch to computer science bc i couldnt stay in FYE)#but then computer science sucked so i switched to trying to get into computer & info tech. which is different. and better.#and ive been in it long enough now that ive kinda forgotten but it did take some fuckin work to switch into it.#like i had to take certain classes first & i couldnt take them during the semesters that in-major students would take them #and i had to have my gpa up to a certain level etc etc. so many hoops to jump thru. i think it took me at least a year. or more. idr #but i made it in and thats my major. thats my thing. computers and information systems and communication.#doesnt FEEL like im an almost-graduate. but then i think about all the things ive taken and learned.#and maybe i dont remember a lot of the more specific things from these classes. but i took core lessons away from each one.#wont be able to recite the theories but i can live them. and thats the point of an education i guess.#anyways im gonna have to start job searching before too long and eughhbb. need to get my license first tho probably.#which i will... i will.... i have so many things to deal with... my life will be So Different in a year...#it will require me to put in the work now. but i can do it. and then a year from now. i'll hopefully be in a better spot.#living somewhere else. graduated from college. with a license and a car. maybe even an IT job of some kind.#kind of scared of trying to find a Big Boy Job. aka a job that requires a degree and networking and all that shit.#rather than just showing up and being like Hi i can do this job. i am not a total drain of a person. hire me please 👍#hfkahfks so many things to think about. and through it all i am still dealing with DEADLINES...!!!!#but yeah this is why my writing has largely been put on hold. idk i have a lot of things im dealing with rn.

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cookinguptales · 2 years ago

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So I’ve been enjoying the Disney vs. DeSantis memes as much as anyone, but like. I do feel like a lot of people who had normal childhoods are missing some context to all this.

I was raised in the Bible Belt in a fairly fundie environment. My parents were reasonably cool about some things, compared to the rest of my family, but they certainly had their issues. But they did let me watch Disney movies, which turned out to be a point of major contention between them and my other relatives.

See, I think some people think this weird fight between Disney and fundies is new. It is very not new. I know that Disney’s attempts at inclusion in their media have been the source of a lot of mockery, but what a lot of people don’t understand is that as far as actual company policy goes, Disney has actually been an industry leader for queer rights. They’ve had policies assuring equal healthcare and partner benefits for queer employees since the early 90s.

I’m not sure how many people reading this right now remember the early 90s, but that was very much not industry standard. It was a big deal when Disney announced that non-married queer partners would be getting the same benefits as the married heterosexual ones.

Like — it went further than just saying that any unmarried partners would be eligible for spousal benefits. It straight-up said that non-same-sex partners would still need to be married to receive spousal benefits, but because same-sex partners couldn’t do that, proof that they lived together as an established couple would be enough.

In other words, it put long-term same-sex partners on a higher level than opposite-sex partners who just weren’t married yet. It put them on the exact same level as heterosexual married partners.

They weren’t the first company ever to do this, but they were super early. And they were certainly the first mainstream “family-friendly” company to do it.

Conservatives lost their damn minds.

Protests, boycotts, sermons, the whole nine yards. I can’t tell you how many books about the evils of Disney my grandmother tried to get my parents to read when I was a kid.

When we later moved to Florida, I realized just how many queer people work at Disney — because historically speaking, it’s been a company that has guaranteed them safety, non-discrimination, and equal rights. That’s when I became aware of their unofficial “Gay Days” and how Christians would show up from all over the country to protest them every year. Apparently my grandmother had been upset about these days for years, but my parents had just kind of ignored her.

Out of curiosity, I ended up reading one of the books my grandmother kept leaving at our house. And friends — it’s amazing how similar that (terrible, poorly written) rhetoric was to what people are saying these days. Disney hires gay pedophiles who want to abuse your children. Disney is trying to normalize Satanism in our beautiful, Christian America.

Just tons of conspiracy theories in there that ranged from “a few bad things happened that weren’t actually Disney’s fault, but they did happen” to “Pocahontas is an evil movie, not because it distorts history and misrepresents indigenous life, but because it might teach children respect for nature. Which, as we all know, would cause them all to become Wiccans who believe in climate change.”

Like — please, take it from someone who knows. This weird fight between fundies and Disney is not new. This is not Disney’s first (gay) rodeo. These people have always believed that Disney is full of evil gays who are trying to groom and sexually abuse children.

The main difference now is that these beliefs are becoming mainstream. It’s not just conservative pastors who are talking about this. It’s not just church groups showing up to boycott Gay Day. Disney is starting to (reluctantly) say the quiet part out loud, and so are the Republicans. Disney is publicly supporting queer rights and announcing company-supported queer events and the Republican Party is publicly calling them pedophiles and enacting politically driven revenge.

This is important, because while this fight has always been important in the history of queer rights, it is now being magnified. The precedent that a fight like this could set is staggering. For better or for worse, we live in a corporation-driven country. I don’t like it any more than you do, and I’m not about to defend most of Disney’s business practices. But we do live in a nation where rights are largely tied to corporate approval, and the fact that we might be entering an age where even the most powerful corporations in the country are being banned from speaking out in favor of rights for marginalized people… that’s genuinely scary.

Like… I’ll just ask you this. Where do you think we’d be now, in 2023, if Disney had been prevented from promising its employees equal benefits in 1994? That was almost thirty years ago, and look how far things have come. When I looked up news articles for this post from that era, even then journalists, activists, and fundie church leaders were all talking about how a company of Disney’s prominence throwing their weight behind this movement could lead to the normalization of equal protections in this country.

The idea of it scared and thrilled people in equal parts even then. It still scares and thrills them now.

I keep seeing people say “I need them both to lose!” and I get it, I do. Disney has for sure done a lot of shit over the years. But I am begging you as a queer exvangelical to understand that no. You need Disney to win. You need Disney to wipe the fucking floor with these people.

Right now, this isn’t just a fight between a giant corporation and Ron DeSantis. This is a fight about the right of corporations to support marginalized groups. It’s a fight that ensures that companies like Disney still can offer benefits that a discriminatory government does not provide. It ensures that businesses much smaller than Disney can support activism.

Hell, it ensures that you can support activism.

The fight between weird Christian conspiracy theorists and Disney is not new, because the fight to prevent any tiny victory for marginalized groups is not new. The fight against the normalization of othered groups is not new.

That’s what they’re most afraid of. That each incremental victory will start to make marginalized groups feel safer, that each incremental victory will start to turn the tide of public opinion, that each incremental victory will eventually lead to sweeping law reform.

They’re afraid that they won’t be able to legally discriminate against us anymore.

So guys! Please. This fight, while hilarious, is also so fucking important. I am begging you to understand how old this fight is. These people always play the long game. They did it with Roe and they’re doing it with Disney.

We have! To keep! Pushing back!

#disney #ron desantis #gay rights #lgbt #queer #lgbt history #queer history #homophobia #florida #us politics #religious fundamentalism #christianity #long post #god that should cover all the pertinent tags and content warnings phew

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fable-x4 · 7 months ago

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Doing this because it makes me happy •Ꮂ•. Im making it difficult on all of you though.

1 note- I'll go drink water

10 notes - I'll set alarms to actually care for myself

50 notes - set up a daily productivity system so I stop wasting my time doing nothing.

100 notes - ask my friends to help me buy a skirt

500 notes - get a bra & a whole bunch of other affirming clothing !!!

1k - tell my dad that my gf is also trans

2.5k - ask my dad to address me by my prefferred name & pronouns 1k went pretty poorly, so I dont feel super comfortable making an attempt on this.

5k - try to get therapy/psychologist

10k - girl mode at all times (start actively wearing makeup/clothing/doing voice training around people at all times)

50k - try for HRT (0% chance) (also no guarantee on this one)

Asfgg. It feels surprisingly good to have a bunch of strangers who want me to be happy

I have now set up alarms for eating, waking up, and hygene related stuff. I seriously doubt we get to 500, but this has made me significantly happier •Ꮂ•

Doing some math... 25 notes in 4 hours. 6.25 notes per hour. 8000 hours or 333 days until this hits 50k. Hrt in a year ig.

Um. Wow. Its been a day, and we're almost at 300. Everything 500 & below was supposed to be things I'd do with minimal intervention. But now, we're getting to the scarier stuff. I am very intimidated, but also excited

My gf really badly wanted to be here when I buy some of the clothing, so the skirt will be this week, the rest of the clothing will be when she comes back from vacation

Saying that you're force femming me is so not allowed. This is unfair. You have no right to make me feel the ways Im feelingggg. Stop making me happy.

Welp. I told him about my girlfriend. And things went about as poorly as expected. He said that Im parroting what other people think. Slowly taking little parts of them, and applying them to myself. Specifically, being trans. He didnt even leave it to maybes. He said with certainty that I was copying everyone else. I know 9 trans people total. Only 2 of them are my close friends. Everyone else, Im barely aquaintences with. I should have told him that regardless of whatever theories he has, this has boosted my confidence massively. Slightly less excited for 2.5k notes. At least everything after that is very positive. And at least this lets me talk about my girlfriend for ages. I dont have to say her deadname through gritted teeth. Oh context. He already knows Im trans but was ignoring it.

I GOT A SKIRT!!!!!

Thank all of you so much. At first when I got the skirt, I was pretty intimidated by the idea of showing my legs. I thought everyone will just see me as a man. But there's a degree of confidence you all have given me. Yeah. Im pretty. Yeah, Im beautiful even. Yeah. Its a friggin fantastic skirt. And anyone who thinks otherwise is dumb. Im happy, and thats what matters.

#notes game #notes goal #transfem #transgender #trans #trans woman #genderqueer #idk how to tag this

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rafesangelita · 14 days ago

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♡ standing in front of rafe’s door after everything that transpired was the last thing you thought you’d do.. yet here you were. luckily for you, rafe has no intentions of ever letting you leave him again.

warnings: enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, rough sex, marathon sex (these two have a lot to catch up on), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, choking, face fucking, cum eating, cum play (they are sooo gross), multiple orgasms, rough handling, hair pulling, biting, slapping, overstimulation, crying, degradation, dirty talk, humiliation kink (?), praise, fluff, soft aftercare

a/n: aaaand this is the end ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ this series was something i thought of on a whim, and i couldn’t be any more happier with the way everything came out. to everyone who showed sm love and gave me your thoughts and feedback, thank you so much!! reading your comments and your theories made me smile <3 wrote this while listening to ‘hotel’ by montell fish, i highly recommend listening to it, it’s what inspired this chapter!!

links: previous | mini series masterlist

wc: 3.8k

it’s been four days since rafe’s been blowing up your phone with every second he could spare, all of his calls and messages being either dismissed or ignored. you had fabricated a lie the next morning and told chanel that you and rafe just weren’t compatible with each other, and even though she could see the solemn look on your face, she knew not to dig any further. “you call me if you need anything, okay?” she hugged you tightly before leaving, using her own key to lock the door to your house as you stayed laying in bed.

as much as you wanted to give in to rafe, you just couldn’t find it in you to overlook the fact that he held back from telling you what he knew. sure, now that you look back on it, it was obvious, but to continue feeding into your fantasies, receiving your pictures, and talking to you on the phone as if he didn’t know who you were made you feel like you had been played in a way. since that night, you went to your tumblr and deleted everything, along with deactivating your account and uninstalling the app as a whole.

once rafe saw that your blog was gone, he went ahead and decided to delete his as well. it was pointless for him to be active if you were no longer on there anymore. he had been checking his phone religiously, hoping for any kind of reply, but each time his phone screen illuminated with a notification that wasn’t from you it was just a blow to his chest. he hated not hearing from you, especially because he had grown so used to listening to your voice everyday. now that was all gone. he no longer had that balance that he needed to keep him from going insane.

rafe didn’t view you any differently once he found out his dream girl behind the screen was you. if anything, it just made him want you even more. to know that the same girl that never put up with anyone’s shit was the same girl that wanted to be told what to do was nothing short of gratifying. he loved being the man that did that for you. both of you needed each other, and that was something you were slowly starting to realize as the days went on. finally folding, you had turned your read receipts off so rafe wouldn’t know that you opened up the plethora of paragraphs he had been sending you.

you scrolled down from the very top, only reading the messages that stuck out to you the most.

[Sunday - 10:11 AM] rafe: i just checked into my room, please text me back.

[Sunday - 11:00 AM] rafe: i don’t blame you for not wanting to talk to me but we’re gonna have to settle this now or when i get home. either way, you’re still mine. whether you like it or not.

[Sunday - 11:09 AM] rafe: has it ever occurred to you that you know things about me that nobody else knows either? i knew who you were and i still didn’t hold back from being vulnerable with you. i care about you y/n, i think about you all the fucking time. after opening up to me last night, i really just want to make sure that you never feel alone again. let me be there. please.

[Sunday - 10:17 PM] rafe: this is the first night in months that i’m going to bed without hearing your voice. please consider talking to me again.

[Monday - 8:20 PM] rafe: not that it matters anymore but for the entire time that we were texting each other, i never saw anyone else. i wasn’t interested in anybody and then once i found out that you were closer than i thought, you’re the only thing that i could think about. phone sex aside, i truly believe that we see each other and understand one another— at least for me, you do. this isn’t a sunken ship, and i won’t let you turn it into one.

[Monday - 8:27 PM] rafe: i’ll do whatever it takes to be back in your good graces, but leaving you alone isn’t an option. i don’t think it ever was.

[Tuesday - 3:55 PM] rafe: well i finished up all the deals i needed to make, but i want to give you the time that you need, so i’ll be staying here for the rest of the week. i’ve put your name on the visitor’s list for my room number, i know it’s far fetched to think you’ll show up, but i’ll be here.

and then the most recent ones from this afternoon..

[Today - 1:09 PM] rafe: #501

[Today - 1:10 PM] rafe: that’s my room number.

you bit your lip. you couldn’t believe you were really considering going over there. you spent the rest of the afternoon pacing the halls, trying to come up with excuses as to why you shouldn’t pack a bag and give in to the man that undeniably has you in a chokehold. by the sounds of his texts, it’s not like you can just get out of not communicating with him, he has made that abundantly clear. by the time it was seven o’clock you were cursing under your breath as your car parked onto the ferry headed towards the mainland. “you better not embarrass me, asshole..” you whispered, swallowing your pride as the minutes counted down to your destination.

you were hesitant when it came time to go into the lobby, your chest rising and falling as you got off the car on shaky legs. you knew that coming over here meant more than just ‘talking it out’, this was you allowing rafe to prove himself worthy enough for something to grow out of this; something serious. “good evening! are you a guest or a visitor?” the receptionist smiled at you brightly as you answered. “visitor. for rafe cameron.” she clicked away on her computer for a few moments before humming pleasantly. “y/n?” she confirmed. with a curt nod, she motioned towards the elevators, “enjoy your night.”

adjusting the pink bag on your shoulder, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding once the elevator dinged on rafe’s floor. no matter how much you were trying to downplay the situation, you couldn’t help the violent thumping of your heart with every step you took towards the end of the long hallway. standing in front of his door made everything feel like it was closing in on you, like suddenly you couldn’t get out of this and you hated the feeling of losing control. before you could successfully talk yourself out of facing him and running away, you knocked and waited with a bated breath for rafe to answer.

the man on the other side of the door was sitting at the edge of his bed in deep thought when he heard the small sound against the thick hardwood. eyebrows twisting in confusion, rafe got up and looked through the peep hole. he felt relief wash over him as soon as he saw you standing there with your arms crossed over your chest without a word, he opened the door, your eyes finding his. his gaze said just as much as your own, both of you sharing a mutual understanding without having to say anything.

pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, rafe nodded understandingly before dragging you inside, your heart fluttering in your chest at his display of strength. “rafe—” you didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he grabbed your bag and tossed it to the side, his hands cupping your face before he backed you into the wall. “just shut up.” he whispered, both of you moaning once you felt each other’s lips finally press into your own. he tasted like mint with a hint of alcohol and you knew right then and there that you’d never be able to get enough of it.

snaking your hands underneath his shirt, you raked your nails down his toned stomach before tugging at the waistline of his jeans, a small gasp leaving your lips once he inserted a thigh between your legs and pressed into where you needed him most. “fuck,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck, “please, i need you.” hearing you say that you needed him made rafe’s head spin in the best possible way. “yeah? i’m not really convinced..” he leaned in, licking a stripe across your bottom lip. rolling your eyes, you dug your nails into his neck until he groaned, pushing you into the wall with a thud.

narrowing your gaze at him, rafe smiled once he saw what looked like a hint of a challenge dancing in your orbs. picking you up off of your feet, you yelped when rafe slammed you onto his bed, wasting no time in slotting himself between your thighs. “it’s gonna take a lot more than some pathetic begging to get me inside you.” he said through gritted teeth. you refrained from saying something smart, your stare faltering as you swallowed thickly. he was going to make this difficult for you. stroking the back of his neck, you pulled him down so your lips were next to his ear.

he shuddered at the feeling of your breath fanning against his skin, a sigh falling from his lips as you trailed your foot along the side of his hip up to his torso. “please, rafe? i might cry if i have to my own fingers again..it’s been too long,” you whispered, “what will it take for you to fill me up with your cock instead?” rafe cursed under his breath as soon as he heard your lewd words, his hands working to get you out of your clothes so he could give both of you some kind of relief. you shivered once you were left in your bra and panties, your eyes beaming up at the man in front of you as you slowly removed the lacey material.

maybe it was because rafe was still fully dressed, but you couldn’t help but feel overexposed as he ogled your chest, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing up and down as he took your tits in the palms of his hands. “holy fuck,” he laid you back, letting his touch roam your body as you squirmed with anticipation, “the camera doesn’t do you justice, baby, you’re fucking gorgeous.” your stomach erupted in a fit of butterflies at the nickname. “and these..” he tugged at your underwears, his jaw clenching once he caught a glimpse of your glossy folds.

in no time, rafe had your thighs shaking around his head, your back arching off of the plush mattress as you clawed at his hands in a desperate attempt to ground yourself from the pure, white hot pleasure coursing through your tummy. “rafe!” you squealed, your entire body buzzing with need as you felt his fingers prod at your entrance. “you taste so good, ‘pretty, m’gonna have to keep you on your back for me all fucking day from now on.” he cursed, flicking his tongue against your overstimulated clit. you felt like a puddle of nothing once he had his digits curled inside of you, his fingertips continuously hitting that sweet spot that made you jolt with each stroke.

“t-too much!” you shook your head, your hips drawing away from his mouth. he chuckled, his strong grip on the curves of your waist making you hiss in pain. “this can’t be too much for you already, i’m just getting started..” you whined helplessly, feeling the band in your stomach snap for the second time already, the motions of his digits eliciting wet squelches from your cunt as you writhed uncontrollably beneath him.

with your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, rafe removed the hand he had inbetween your thighs and slipped his fingers inside your mouth, his tongue still working skillfully on your sensitive bud as he forced you to taste yourself. you moaned, sucking on his digits without a second thought. “you’re so fucking hot, i love it.” he grumbled, grinding his clothed erection into the sheets, desperate for any kind of friction he could get as he leaked precum from merely giving you pleasure.

he brought you down from your high until your breathing slowed and you were dragging him up to kiss you once again. rafe’s lips molded to yours so perfectly, you cupped his chin and pecked the tip of his nose before slipping out from under his body. rafe didn’t ask any questions as you grabbed his hand and guided him back up to his feet. how you managed to stand up after being overstimulated into oblivion? you don’t know, but you were determined to get rafe out of his clothes one way or another.

rafe watched as you lifted his shirt above his head, the thin material of his t-shirt getting lost on the floor somewhere as you stared at his glorious build. “as much i hated you, i always thought you were stupidly hot.” rafe snorted at your words, his eyes following the way your fingertips trailed down his pecs to his v-line. “hated?” he repeated, noting the past-tense of your statement. meeting his eyes, you blinked softly before pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips. “yeah, hated.”

within seconds, you had dropped to your knees, biting your lip at the sight of rafe bulging out of the denim material of his jeans. looking up at him with sultry eyes, you palmed him through his pants, his nostrils flaring slightly as you took your time getting him out of his boxers. oh and once you did, you were gobsmacked. you’ve spent so much time daydreaming about this cock, just wishing it was the one thing putting you to sleep instead of your fingers, and now that it was standing in front of you, you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together at the sight.

you smiled sweetly before placing your hands on the back of his knees, the man above you already fisting your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock, his hips bucking at the pleasure shooting into his core. “o-oh, fuck..” he swallowed thickly, watching as your sparkly lips enveloped the head of his cock, your tongue swirling around his aching tip with ease. you moaned around his length, taking him inch by inch until your nose nudged his pubic bone.

blinking up at him through your eyelashes, you slowly pulled off of him, holding him at the base as he watched you trace your lips with a mix of spit and precum. “you’re gonna get it.” was the last thing rafe said before he pulled your head back down on his cock, a muffled whine sounding from your mouth before you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. rafe’s head rolled to the side, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. your grip tightened around his legs, your eyebrows pinching together as rafe groaned, his muscles constricting underneath his skin.

“i imagined this for so long..” he said through gritted teeth, “..since way before we even started texting.” you moaned at the revelation, grateful that he took the hint and let you slide off of him for a moment so you could breathe. gasping once you were able to get a full breath, rafe cursed when his eyes landed on the thick string of saliva still connecting your lips to his cock. “why didn’t you do something about it, then?” rafe shook his head, letting go of your hair before landing a playful smack across your cheek. “you know what? that’s a really good question, ‘think you would’ve been okay with me stuffing your mouth back then?”

you giggled, licking your lips before getting up and pushing him down on the bed. rafe brought you down with him, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you kissed him sloppily. feeling him like this, skin to skin, made a weight that you didn’t even know was there lift from your heart, your soft hands stroking his chest as he held you in his big arms. snaking down his torso, you pressed a trail of kisses down his stomach until you reached his length, wrapping a hand around his base.

“tell me, rafe,” you scooted down so you were straddling his thighs, “would you have even had the balls to take me the way you wanted?” rafe’s chest rose and fell as you stroked him languidly, his eyes struggling to stay open as you watched him with that dark gaze of yours. “nah, i didn’t think you’d be able to take it.” you smiled, taking your bottom lip between your teeth before you picked up your pace, the action making rafe’s hips buck. “ah, fuck!” he heaved, his jaw falling slack as he felt himself teetering the edge of euphoria.

“already gonna cum?” you teased, “so fucking pathetic.” rafe blinked, his jaw tightening at your words. he couldn’t let you win this easily. despite it feeling impossible, he mustered up the strength to stop your ministrations, grabbing your shoulders and pinning you down beneath him. “you might be royalty out there, but in here? with me? you don’t get to have your fucking way. you’re nothing.” you gasped, your heart beating in your ears as he threw your legs over his shoulders.

suddenly you didn’t have the same confidence from earlier now that rafe had you right where he wanted you, his cock sitting snuggly between your folds. your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him teasing your clit, a shaky breath leaving your lips as he entered you slowly. rafe buried his face in your neck, his teeth nipping the sensitive flesh there. your eyes watered at the stretch, a small cry emitting from your throat. rafe looked down at you and made sure you were okay before thrusting into you, both of you moaning in unison.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he praised you, “better than what i could’ve ever imagined.” he pressed a kiss to your calf, pressing a large palm over your lower stomach. you squeaked at the pressure, your toes curling as he fucked into you with vigor. “i wonder what people would think of you if they knew you were a cock hungry slut,” he started thumbing your clit, your hands shooting up to dig crescents into his biceps, “i should mark you up, ‘show everyone who the fuck you belong to when they see us out.”

you don’t know why, but the idea of walking around with rafe, everyone’s eyes falling on you two in every room you enter, turned you on beyond belief, especially at the prospect of being littered with bruises and hickeys from none other than the man on top of you. “i want that,” you whimpered, “want’ everyone to know you’re mine too.” rafe groaned. all he’s wanted to hear since you two started this whole thing. that he was yours.. that you wanted him the way he wanted you.

rafe wished so badly that he didn’t refrain from letting himself cum over the course of these last few months, because then maybe he wouldn’t be close to blowing his load this soon. “still think i’m pathetic if i cum right now?” rafe trailed his lips across your collarbone, his forehead nudging your chin as you nodded breathlessly. “oh, totally.” you laughed, the smile from your face being wiped off as soon as rafe picked up his speed on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“i guess that’s gonna make two of us then..” you had heavy tears rolling down your cheeks when your high washed over you in waves of pure ecstasy, your legs trembling as you thrashed against him. you lost all ability to speak or think, rafe’s hips coming to a stop as he pulled out, still stroking his length as he emptied himself over your drenched folds. rafe shuddered, watching the way his cum painted your pretty cunt. you were left clenching around nothing, a pout forming on your lips.

“w-why didn’t you just cum inside me?” you stuttered, rafe’s eyes widening at your display of offense. “well i wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with that—” you cut him off, clamping a hand over his mouth before reaching down and guided his tip over the mess he made. “put it in me.” your had seen plenty of gazes turn dark before, but rafe’s was just incomparable. he was distraught, the look on your face sending him into overdrive. he did as you said, his mind churning with a thousand thoughts at once.

you took every drop like a champ, his eyes hanging low as he collapsed next to you, pulling you into his side. cradling his head to your chest, you reveled in the feeling of his arms being wrapped around you, both of you panting softly in an attempt to catch your breaths. staying in this position for what seemed like forever, you blinked once rafe’s voice broke you out of your post-sex bliss. “what made you change your mind?” he asked, running his fingertips up and down the column of your spine.

“my mind was already made up..” you whispered, “i just needed to put my ego away and finally choose something for myself.”

at your words, rafe pulled you into a heated kiss, which only then lead to round two and three and so on until you were barely able to hold yourself up in the shower. you and rafe slept in the next morning, both of you spending the rest of the week seemingly catching up with all of the pent up sexual frustration you two shared until it was time to go back home and do it all overs again. your phone had been blowing up with unanswered calls and texts from chanel, your best friend worried sick about you and your sudden disappearance. “where the fuck have you been?! i was starting to think i should file a missing persons report!” she shouted.

“i promise i’m going to explain everything. meet me at our brunch spot in ten minutes.. and feel free to bring topper..”

“how did this happen?!” chanel squealed excitedly, looking between you and rafe as he draped an arm across your shoulders, your lips finding his. oh, god, where could you even start? “it’s a really interesting story, but trust me when i say you’ll thank me for sparing the details.” you laughed. topper was also mildly confused at his best friend’s sudden attitude change towards you. “blink twice if you need help, bro.” he chuckled nervously, both you and chanel shooting him a glare. “nah, no cries for help over here. i’m right where i wanna be..”

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