#and I was what one would call an INSIDE kid

[johnbrand]

(βΓΦ)'s Improper Disposal

Chase grunted as the cooler once again hit the back of his leg. “Dude, why does this thing have to be so heavy?”

“What, all those hours in the gym not paying off?” Tony chuckled. Then the offender in question hit his own knee. “Ow! Dang you weren’t kidding.”

“I told you, bro.” Chase and Tony continued down the dock. “What is in this thing anyway?”

“It’s what’s left of the Beta Gamma Phi Sex Drive,” Tony answered. They carefully navigated down the steps onto the private beach north of the city. 

“Why do they call it a ‘Sex Drive’ anyway?” Chase frowned, but after a moment the pun clicked. Then he continued, “But those initiates were guzzling those drinks like it was their last party ever. How is it still this heavy?”

“This is just the leftovers, bro.” Tony responded. “It’s not like we had them drinking straight jizz, it was just the catalyst in the formula. And we collected for almost a month–Chris had us producing every day, he even measured who contributed the most.”

“You’re kidding,” Chase guffawed, most of the intellectual words soaring over his head.

The two frat boys dropped the cooler as they approached the shore, the cold water lapping at their bare feet. Without further ado, they flipped the container open, watching as the thick white splooge was emptied into the ocean. The waves softly accepted the gift, washing away the mixed jock juices and integrating them into their southbound current.

“So that’s it, huh?” Chase broke the silence once the inside of the cooler was clean. "Is it ok for us to just be dumping it out like this?"

“Yup,” Tony replied, closing the lid. “The water is supposed to dilute it or something, so we won’t have to worry about ‘improper disposal of hazardous waste,’ or whatever βΓΦ’s lawyer said.”

A rancid fart escaped Chase’s back end. “Huhuhuh, speaking of hazardous waste…”

———

“Stop!” Eli could not stop himself from laughing as Simon continually splashed him with water. Of course, he delivered defensive waves back to his best friend, meaning both were struggling to catch their breaths under the onslaught.

“You first!” Simon countered, unbothered as the salty sea stung his eyes, went up his nose, and slipped into his mouth.

Eli licked his lips, “Never!” Although there were plenty of other people of all shapes, ages, colors, and sizes at the beach, the two were not making enough of a scene for anyone to care.

They continued like this for another minute before agreeing to a truce. Once they had finally stopped to take a breath, the pair did nothing but wade in the open water. About a foot taller than his best friend, Eli’s feet could barely scrape the bottom almost six and a half feet below them. But unlike Eli, Simon's skinny, shrimpy body meant he could float with little effort.

“Should we head in?” Eli finally asked, his heart rate having returned to a normal pace.

Simon nodded, “Sure.”

The best friends turned towards the shore and began to paddle in. Neither noticed that within the first few moments, their legs began to twitch. Simon’s shot out within the water, while Eli’s already long tendons shortened slightly. Each stroke brought additional changes. Simon’s abdominals became more pronounced, Eli’s biceps and triceps inflated with muscle. Eli’s hands restructured into fleshy mitts, Simon’s feet widened out into massive flippers. 

But these changes were not unique to just one or the other; they happened simultaneously to both of the men. Each was becoming more muscular and more masculine. Their bodies had ingested the combined DNA of many βΓΦ brothers, every individual strand rewriting the former base and taking control of the resulting figure. This meant they both gained smooth, Ken doll-like tanned skin. They both gained fluffier hair that coiffed naturally at the front (even if Eli’s was hidden behind a white cap, which rotated 180 degrees as if it too was part of a genetic code). And they both gained longer, girthier cocks that would reroute their blood flow, which in turn would reroute their objectives and priorities.

Once they had made it to shore, Eli and Simon had become fraternal twins, and not only in their new dedication to Beta Gamma Phi. The superior DNA bonded them at a molecular level, their brothers’ musculature and masculinity recreating them as Ethan and Shawn. They both accepted their new destinies: to become a βΓΦ brother, with a duty to uphold traditional masculinity and a responsibility to keep the fraternities alive.

And luckily for Ethan and Shawn, they were not alone, for the shore was soon swarmed with many other young, strapping men ready to dedicate their lives to the βΓΦ brotherhood.

[littleslaywrites]

joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader

summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning

word count: 1.1k

cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)

The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder. 

You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives. 

It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test. 

“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in. 

“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”

“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness. 

You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. 

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention. 

“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room. 

That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor. 

“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.

“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together. 

“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test. 

“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”

You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you. 

The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words. 

Pregnant

“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.

“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.

Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”

That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers. 

“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs. 

“What is it?” he says. 

You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”

You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest. 

He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front. 

You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.

“Completely serious.”

He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces. 

“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his. 

“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”

Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”

“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react. 

The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before. 

“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”

“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”

He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering. 

“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think. 

Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment. 

Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case. 

Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind. 

“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.

author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!

[your-hockey-mom]

Christmas with Quinny?

"Hey! No peeking!"

"I...wasn't!" Quinn smirked, putting his hands behind his back after getting caught looking into the gift bags sitting on the coffee table. He had been getting antsy about opening gifts with you since he had gotten up. Sometimes he could be a big kid and during the holidays it was so much worse. Good thing he was cute, you always teased.

"You were, too!" You laughed, approaching him, two mugs of steaming hot chocolate in your hands. "Go ahead and open it, if you want! I'm ready."

Quinn would let you take a seat beside him before handing you a small box he had hidden beneath a blanket next to him. As soon as you saw the colour of the box you knew where it had come from. That trademark blue could only mean one thing: Tiffany's!

"Quinn, you didn't!" You didn't know what else to say!

"I may have. I hope it's okay."

Taking the box, you give Quinn a kiss as thanks before seeing just what was inside. "I'm sure you really outdid yourself! I didn't need anything like this!"

"Sure you did," he replied, taking a careful sip of the hot chocolate.

Inside, was a gold ring in a cursive script that read "love". It was dainty, classic, and so very touching. When had he had the time to get you such a gift, you had no idea but words could not express how much it meant to you.

"I love this so much!" You choked out, putting it on your middle finger. "Quinny, thank you so much!"

"You're welcome. I just wanted to get you something you could enjoy everyday." He was smiling like a kid whose mother had put his best artwork on the fridge. Things like jewelry wasn't his forte in buying, and he couldn't lie: he had help from the girls at Tiffany's in picking it out. His mom had actually suggested the famous jeweler when Quinn had confessed he didn't know what to get you. He had picked out some little things like a book or two, but in terms of the big, memorable, post-on-Instagram sort of gift, that's where he had struggled.

"Oh, I'll absolutely wear this everyday! I've never gotten anything from Tiffany's before!"

"Well, I'm glad I was able to get you something new." Quinn scooted closer, pulling your face to his. "Maybe I'll make a tradition of it?"

The kiss was long and passionate. Such a romantic Quinn had turned out to be and you loved being the center of his ever affection. His hands held you tightly, not letting you leave his side until he was for certain that he had expressed just how much he loved you. The ring truly had meaning.

"I have something for you, but not as nice as this, lemme go get it!"

Quinn slowly withdrew his hands, his fingertips trailing against your body as you got up. "If you have you."

"There's no need to pout! I'll be right back!" You headed to the hall closet where way in the back were two wrapped hockey sticks hidden as far back as you could get them. The had been a custom order to the specs of his on-ice sticks, but these had the Canucks colorway elements and a little message engraved where normally his name would go. You didn't care if he used them even once, but what hockey player couldn't use more sticks?

"How did you wrap those?" Quinn asked, arms outstretched to take them from you. "That's impressive!"

"Well, I think I used a whole roll of paper because it was not going well!"

Carefully, Quinn unwrapped the dual-packaged gift and smiled. It was like he had ordered them himself. Now, you had had some help; making a couple phone calls to teammates to snap a picture of his stick specs so you could get them just right. They had to be perfect!

"'Nobody puts my baby in the box!' You're too cute! Thanks, sweetheart." You had thought a long time about what you wanted to have put on the stick shaft. What better than what you always yelled when Quinn was sent to the "pretty boy box" as you affectionately called the penalty box.

"I thought it was pretty fitting," you giggled, excited that he hadn't found the message too cringe.

"They're perfect! Thanks, babe." His smile was so sweet, and his eyes sparkled within the twinkling of the Christmas tree. "I love you."

"I love you, too!" You pulled yourself into his lap. "Should we open the other stuff?"

"Later, right now I just want to enjoy you." Quinn buried his face in your neck as you laughed against the feeling of his facial hair against your skin. An hour would pass before you left the sofa, or maybe it was two... 

[allurilove]

What are the yanderes getting you?

“Also featuring Henry and Moira.”

Yandere Boyfriend has seen the trend on tiktok where people make a ‘burr basket’ for their significant other. He’s obviously going to participate because he simply loves you, and he doesn’t want to be flamed on the internet incase you wanted to share how you didn’t get one to a bunch of people you didn’t know. He thought that a ‘burr basket’ was sort of ridiculous, that it fed into overconsumption, but he decided to put that aside and get you one because it’ll make you happy. He’s been secretly shopping here and there, watching you browse the aisles and stores. You had the tendency to call something ‘cute’ or you made a comment that you needed that item— yet you would always put it back on the shelf and walk away. Your boyfriend would scratch his head in confusion and quickly grab that thing and toss it into the basket he carried. If you weren’t going to buy it, he will.

Calm Yandere has always been the type of person to think of a theme before he buys you something. For your birthday, he knew that you ran out of your favorite perfume, so he buys you another, and a bunch of flowers and aromatic things. For this year, he knew he wanted to get you an array of cozy items. A thick white sweater, mufflers with a snowflake design, fuzzy socks to go with the pair of uggs, a candle that smells like apple and wood, and a bunch of tea he got from a specialty store. He puts all of his items in a red box with a gingerbread design, and puts a bow on top. He’s quite happy with what he got you, and he contemplated multiple times if he should just tell you. However, every time he reached for his phone, his dog would put her paw on his hand. Silently telling him not to.

Yandere Husband loves to travel with his family, but since his sisters were visiting him instead, he decided to stay at home and surprise you with something else. Tickets, booking hotels and flights was his sort of expertise, and buying gifts for others… was a bit of an hassle since you had closed yourself off to him. He couldn’t tell what you liked anymore, so he was really working off of whatever intel Henry gave him. But, he had an inkling that Henry was mostly dropping hints of what he wanted. Because your husband was pretty sure you couldn’t care less about receiving monster trucks, and “sick new shoes, and it has to be from adidas. Dad, are you even listening? Should I just draw you the exact pair I want— I mean what mom wants?”

Your man knew that you wanted a lamp. You had mentioned before that you wanted to add some light to the bedroom, and instead of giving you a regular shmegular lamp, he got you the Alabaster Totem 16 that costed about 30k. He just thought it was cute and unique. And of course, he just haaaad to get you some jewelry too. He personally liked Mikimoto and got you the ‘Classic Black Sea Pearl and Diamond Pendant.’ He also got you another necklace from Graff, a ‘Pear Shape Diamond Cross-over Necklace.’

This is the type of food Moira and Henry would make for reader— with the help of yandere husband of course lol. They might not be too concerned if the food tastes good or not, and as long as it was pretty, they’ll feed it to their mother. While yandere husband is busy making the food, the kids will make their iconic homemade cards they give you every year. Henry is a drawer, always scribbling some comic inside his card instead of words, and Moira liked to practice her cursive skills.

For Yandere Chaebol, Christmas is a pretty big deal to him and his family. He has a truckload of presents for his family, and another truck for his kids. His cousins are located in Busan, and his whole mother’s side preferred the simpler life of Jeju island. So, he’s dragging you around to visit all of his family. He’s not ashamed to show you off to his family anymore, and the press had learned of your guys’ relationship. A lot of people had so much shit to say, and the k-netizens don’t technically like you. The Chaebol cares about practicality… and comfortability, so he bought you a pair of shoes. You two will be walking around a lot, seeing nice sights, and eat good food. He might not be getting you much, but he’s paying for pretty much everything. The hotels, restaurants, the transportation, and the dumb souvenirs you want.

Yandere Prince isnt about to get you a necklace or earrings, but definitely a human feast. He’s been keeping a list of all the people he hates, and had beef with, for the past year. For thirty days straight, he’s been hunting them down and kidnapping them. He kept them plump for his wife- shoving clean foods down their throat. When Christmas time came along, he pretended he didn’t get you anything. He just sat there at the head of the table, and made brief glances at you. You were a tinge disappointed, your stomach growling, but you never had a taste for human food. You were starting to expect that you were going to have to sit there and watch your family chow down, but then… Your husband got up from his seat, clapped his hands, and a light had appeared at the newly built stage. His enemies were then lined up one by one, each in chains and shackles. The yandere prince might not show love for you, but he does think you’re beautiful. The way you tear into his enemies and make them scream… he’s glad to have you.

Dumb Yandere’s making sure that the house is clean, the bedsheets were washed and dried, and that the dining room is decorated to the nines! The yandere bought a tiny tree with red and white ornaments, a mistletoe taped to the front door (so he can immediately have an excuse to kiss you), and he was your present. The man awkwardly adjusted the wrapping paper he put around his cock, and he waddled around the house as he prepared the dinner table. He had ordered food before you came, and he made the dessert himself. He picked off the burnt bits on the pie, and tried to cover up the misshapen brownies with powdered sugar.

Crybaby Yandere Inmate could only cry from behind bars. He cried, humped his pillows, cried again, and then decided to make you a card. With his crayons he drew a portrait of you and him standing by a tree on the front of the card, and on the inside, he started to write how much he missed you. He rubbed the strawberry jam he got from breakfast on his lips, and he pressed long and hard onto the paper. “mmmmwah,” he then smiled as he pulled away and saw the kiss mark on the paper. All he could hope for is that you hadn’t fallen for another man.

Allure: Still writing yandere husband x you part four. So far it’s about 1.6k words rn.

[green-square-anon]

Two things about your primarch daughter posts just to not spam you.

I know you said he tries and all that. But it's so hard not to feel enraged at Dorn. There's being emotionally inept and then there's not trying. He reads like someone who dosen't TRY. He would have seen something. The kind of parent who never tells his child he loves them or he's proud of them? not sure what parental books he would find that didn't mention that and even then he would have to twist the words so hard to mean "actually I should just feed and clothe her, she'll know". I mean a parent child relationship where the CHILD "gives more than she recieves"? I want to slap him. It's the same feeling I get reading those reader or oc inserts where he's emotionally unavailble to his partner and I don't know if you've seen it since it mostly floats around 4chan spaces and 1d4/1d6chan. But that copypasta where someone talks about how others find Dorn boring but to them he's like that quiet family man at work who dosen't engage in watercooler talk and kinda opens up to his sons and I'm just wondering "wtf is his relationship with the mother" since she's never mentioned. Only with someone emotionally neglecting a child instead of a partner it is much worse. With partners I'm just thinking "leave his ass".

Thankfully I don't think he's THAT bad in canon and the fandom has flandarized him a bit. This is the same man who called Sigismund his "most beloved son" and lined the insides of his armor with fur to never forget the humanity of his grandfather or something along those lines.

On the other hand there's this bit in Echoes of Eternity before Sanguinius dies:

Dorn didn’t know what to say, when nothing seemed worth saying. He was not made for exchanges like these. Many thought him cold in these moments, even heartless, but he was neither. It was purely that defeat was alien to him, as was the quality of emotion shining in Sanguinius’ gaze. What was worth saying when no words were necessary? What did one say to a brother you barely knew, who had nevertheless fought beside you from the beginning to the end? Sanguinius had the answer without even needing to consider the question. ‘Farewell, Rogal.’ The Angel rose to his feet, and the holo tracked upward with him. ‘If we do not meet again in the flesh, know that it was an honour, being your brother.’ The Praetorian nodded to the Angel, wanting the right words, searching for them, and not finding them. The silence stretched out. It dragged. Sanguinius smiled, knowing. The hololith blinked away.

(For the people who like primarch x primarch I thinks there's great potential in Dorn having unrequited feelings for Sanguinius but that's a tangent). Yeah the man is emotionally constipated but he does TRY and in the time as well as the responsibility that comes with parenthood I think, can nearly garentee he would have expressed himself (side note but how the hell did he even get laid if he was this cold?)

Konrad. I know you most likely just didn't consider this (god that sounded unintentionally dickish, not like that, just that you mentioned not having considered the mother before) but I am a little gremlin for "LORE". What about handing the kid of to the mom instead of Vulkan unless mommy met some tragic end? In my oc verse (I'm not bringing that up to enforce lore, I'm saying this because these ideas are free for anyone who wants to build of of them) I intentionally made it so that Konrads waifu came from a family that was both large and tightnit (and relatively wealthy) so that even if Konrad went AWOL or just needed help there WAS that support network of uncles/aunts and grandparents to help. Even if the emotional support network on the fathers side was…. litterally noone. Or perhaps Konrad decided their must be primarch/astartes level protection, which would be smart, and didn't trust himself so "Primarch, but not me" was (to him) the best solution? That would be interesting as hell as a concept.

Primarchs + Daughters (2)

Finally finished the damn part two. Been kinda busy here and there with my new job but lo and behold, the one yall asked for. Soon enough, yall find out why it took me a while writing this one for the two main guys I had to add here.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Konrad Curze

A’right, I’ll open this one with the fact we all know that this man shouldn’t even be legally allowed to have children. I’m gonna be real for a hot second and admit that I stared at the screen for HOURS not knowing what to write because any poor little girl that is born from this guy will have the dubious privilege of being the most sheltered and hidden secret the Primarch ever kept close. With all those visions of death and inevitable doom mixed with the sudden power rush that fatherhood gave him, it left in its wake a perfect storm for this lunatic to develop a paranoid and obsessive need (NEED) to keep his daughter safe; something hard to achieve when he already knows the essence of his Legion. His fatalistic nature regarding his own future would suddenly clash violently with the Primarch’s new found protective stance concerning his child. It's almost sad to consider that this poor man GENUINELY wished to avoid becoming the monster his visions showed, but knowing that he’ll be balancing in the thin line of one day hurting his precious girl (or worse than that) it'll put him in the hard decision of having to let go of her eventually. He is no Perturabo, for that matter. In the rare and far away moments of lucidity, I can see Konrad choosing to protect the innocence and life of his child by trusting in the last person ANYONE might expect the Night Hunter would seek help: Vulkan. Honestly this is just plain sad, man.

Sanguinius

This is it! The golden boy, yall! We all know the kind of person Sanguinius is, but add a precious little daughter in the equation and all you get is the perfect example of textbook girl dad. No matter how busy this man is, somehow he’ll squish some playtime with his baby and enjoy every bit of it. Seriously, this guy acting like a dedicated father is worth being in a stockphoto image. His baby girl asks him to play tea party? Some astartes will find their Primarch hunched over, awkwardly holding a comically small cup between his thumb and index while his precious princess pretends to pour more tea for herself. The daughter of Sanguinius doesn't go a single day without knowing that her papa loves her a lot and when the man isn’t around, the Blood Angels Legion are close to keep her company to the point that even she calls them ‘big brothers’. No one is safe when she wants to play dress-up. The single problem I see with Sanguinius when raising his little girl is that he sins of being completely oblivious to the more mortal side of his daughter’s needs. He easily gets so wrapped up in his role of The Perfect Angel that he doesn’t realize his tiny princess has boundaries that are being constantly crossed, but since she feels the need to prove that she can be like her father, endures all those problems and refuses to seek help about anything. It becomes a kind of toxic mix considering how much Sanguinius is loved and adored by others, to the point that his daughter becomes like a coveted gem too by relation, making her need to prove her own ‘perfection’ an unconscious action the older she grows. I’m not even gonna touch with a ten feet pole the “fun fact” called the Red Thirst on this one because, let's be fair, that would require for me to write more than 3 pages with ONLY Sanguinius and his daughter in the spotlight and that’s only assuming his baby girl didn’t inherit it. I specialized in visual arts and marketing, not psychology jfc.

Ferrus Manus

It took me a while but after some investigating and more reading I can safely put this man in between the Papa-tier and ‘tough love’ guys. His practical mentality and belief of the strongest are (oddly enough) healthily separated from his parenting skills. This is one of the few Primarch that can see their daughter as an individual of their own and makes sure to be as present as possible in her life but the loyalty of this man to the Emperor is his own flaw. Not in the case that he’ll choose the Imperium before his little girl, but because it’ll put him in the dreading and guilty notion that he’ll always prioritize his daughter despite his oath to serve for the Great Crusade. Most of his brothers (except maybe Jaghatai and Konrad) just assume or don’t even think about the long term future of their daughters or simply presume that they will become a great part of the Imperium’s well oiled structure. Not exactly their fault since they never grew up with anything resembling normal. On the brighter and wholesome side (whiplash change!), this is a man who finds handmade gifts more meaningful and always makes sure to explain the reason behind them mostly out of the enjoyment of watching his little princess look so amazed at her papa’s skills. More often than not, Ferrus’ belief of the strongest would falter a little as he perceives the true fragile nature of his daughter and, even if she share the resilient blood of a Primarch, that isn’t enough to convince him that she isn’t vulnerable but instead of letting the worry fester, he’ll try to teach the girl the art of fighting. That’s where the ‘tough love’ kind of guy I mentioned comes out to light. He will not spare kind words during those moments of teaching, as he wishes for his princess to prevail any difficulty but he’ll make sure to always end any sort of training with “I love you so much that the idea of one day not being there to protect you, pains me beyond any form” to make sure that his harsh actions have a reason behind. Honestly, it's the kind of father-daughter relationship that possesses so many shades that makes its own drama novel. Good thing that uncle Fulgrim is always there to smooth the hard edges that may come in the future and makes up for the lack of spoiling the little girl deserves. Ferrus is not amused by it. Forgot to mention that the Primarch will be even more motivated to take off the metal of his hands, for he has yet to truly feel the warm and soft flesh of his baby’s hand. It's the one feeling he keeps missing and craves so much.

Angron

Oh man, another of the hard ones. Okay, if I managed with Konrad, I can tackle this bitch too. You need to comprehend that we are talking about a guy that has been so intimate with the meaning of pain that it's amazing he’ll be capable of ranging through other emotions that don’t involve fury into that combo too. That being said, this whole shitshow of being the father of a young girl can only be described as sad AND tragic. First off, Angron’s daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to leave her chambers at The Conqueror for obvious safety reasons and having her stay on Terra can’t be an option too, as Angron would rather be death than leave in a silver plate this one single pittance of good he helped to create under the light of the Emperor. That being said, any little girl born from Angron would be terribly isolated and one can’t even blame the Primarch for that as he, despite his disposition, finds his daughter as a genuine reflection of what he could never ever dream to have or be. That sometimes results in him feeling short and spontaneous moments of anger from the impotence of not being able to be close to his daughter, let alone console her with anything resembling compassion. This is a man that is horribly aware that he’s away from one sharp stab of the Nails to his brain to end up killing his little girl in one single swat of his hand. The moments of anything resembling fatherly love are few and very tense, for Angron has to constantly be focused on not letting the pain control his actions and that always looks as if he’s dismissing his child’s love language or actions. What else can I say that most people don’t know already? This is just a sad story waiting to end in tragedy and had it not been for how Sanguinius ended during the heresy, I can see The Great Angel taking Angron’s daughter under his care as the only consolation and promise to his corrupted brother before his demise. After becoming a Daemon Prince, Angron’s only genuine and foggy memory of his little girl is her crying while calling him with heavy despair. Goddamn I almost tear up with this one.

Roboute Guilliman

Look at my big nerd! One of the few guys that actually is humble enough to feel more human than any of his brothers… sometimes. I gotta say it, Roboute has the vibe of what happens when someone incredibly autistic suddenly becomes a parent; expect lots of books to try and be prepared for what entails to take care of a mortal baby. He’ll have a wholeass strict routine of activities and diets that you AND the baby must follow to ensure both of your health along with “fun facts” regarding a toddler’s development that half of the time lack the keyword ‘fun’ in there. Honestly, Euten will be a BLESSING sent, for she’ll be the one railing back the most extreme attempts of her adoptive son to try and raise his little princess like she was just another task of paperwork. Over all his quirks, the Primarch of the Ultramarines is absolutely trying his hardest to be a good father just as the one that raised him, but this is a man that half of the time ends up clumsily trying to spend time with his little girl only for it to backfire as he simply doesn’t understand how to entertain his daughter. Good thing the child will simply be happy to spend time with her papa despite his weird personality. More often than not, some of the astartes will see the young lady at her father’s chambers in a little booster chair beside him, doodling on some papers to pretend that she’s a big girl helping her papa with his very important job. It's probably the most adorable sight anyone can ever get the chance to see. Just like most of his brothers, Roboute isn’t that good at expressing his love towards his daughter with words, so he simply let his little princess be on his lap and hug her as if it will be the last time.

Mortarion

I’ve written enough of this man being a father that you all can get a wild idea of how he will be when confronted with parenthood. Even if he believes himself to be undeserving of anything resembling happiness thanks to his perception of being nothing but a tool of the Emperor, this guy will only need to see his precious little flower and feel like everything in the world can be forgotten, including his ever festering negative emotions. His daughter is the single light of love that he selfilish believes is his right after such torturous upbringing although that mentality rarely affects his princess, as he simply shows nothing but care and tenderness towards her. He may be a nervous trainwreck, fully aware that his Legion and himself aren’t exactly safe-hazardous, but that never has stopped him from doing his utmost best to protect the little girl from anything that may hurt her. Like most of his traitorous brothers, Mortarion would not hesitate to bring entire worlds into devastation if it meant that his family can be safe, even if that’ll end up making a terrible gap to grow between him and those he loves. It's quite terrible and sad to know that, unlike Fulgrim or Angron, Mortarion was the closest to his daughter and showered her with as much genuine love as he could in an attempt to avoid being anything like his supposed father (adopted or creator equally), so when he turned into a Daemon Prince, the festering and rotting resentment that consumes him sometimes simmers down when he remembers the laugh of joy his little princess often released when he would carry her up in his arms. Oh yes, some good ol’ gut-wrenching emotional damage, teehee.

I will not apologize for being a mean bitch by writing sad shit. XOXO

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER EIGHT

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur @thelightknight21 wc: 9.5k notes: would it be funny if instead of linking the masterlist i linked something really weird instead. im just kidding though. or am i. call me the uconn womens basketball team the way i had a terrible first half performance but locked in for the second half of this chapter. um jk. no im not someone tell geno to figure his shit out. between geno and luigi, this has been a really sad month to be an italian. please keep us in your thoughts during this time. also idk why this is so long, the first half of this chapter truly chewed me up and spit me out so i have nothing to say. next chapter is the last for this series and if anyone has any suggestions on how im supposed to feel about that, please let me know cause idk what's happening. im probably not going to proofread this so take this as you will. as always, let me know how we're feeling about this and happy holidays 🫶

‘A Family Affair, A House Divided’

In February, the South Carolina Gamecocks hosted the University of Connecticut Huskies for the regular season. After a thrilling, competitive game, the Gamecocks ultimately secured the win in a convincing 83-65 victory over the Huskies. Te-Hina Paopao led the Gamecocks with a dominant 21 points, shooting 5/7 from three. Connecticut’s dual-threats, Paige Bueckers and Aaliyah Edwards, scored 20 points each but were unable to clear the deficit.

However, despite the rousing game, many viewers were interested in the storyline between South Carolina’s Tess Kennedy and Connecticut’s Paige Bueckers. In the last issue, we mentioned that many felt as though this match-up was a house divided as Bueckers and Kennedy made their relationship official in June of last year. Critics were concerned whether or not they would be able to take the game seriously as a couple, although Bueckers proved many wrong with her performance. Bueckers was very focused on her game, and while Kennedy was still on the bench with only a few more weeks of ACL recovery, South Carolina did not waver. One commenter noted that Bueckers and Kennedy have been playing basketball for a very long time. They are both invested and focused on their game, and many supporters believe that they would not let off-court distractions and pressures stop them from playing their games to the highest of their ability.

In fact, Bueckers and Kennedy were spotted at the Tin Roof, a bar nearby the University of South Carolina, roughly an hour after the game ended. Insiders noted that Kennedy ordered – and take a deep breath, everyone – a soda, and that she appeared to be having a lengthy conversation with Bueckers. Out of respect, our source has elected to not share the contents of their conversation (nor would we share it!), but did tell us that Bueckers and Kennedy are “stronger than ever” despite the on-court tensions and critical narratives.

Basketball fans can rest easy knowing that Bueckers and Kennedy are committed to each other and committed to playing some electrifying basketball in the NCAA tournament. As the SEC and Big East tournaments quickly approach, viewers are excited to see where the two teams will land and we are eagerly awaiting the clash of the titans.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MARCH 8, 2024

“Slow” ends up working a lot better than either of them had been expecting.

Honestly, part of Tess was worried that they’d give up on it after a day or two. She knew that she and Paige had terrible restraint around each other. It would have been far too easy to give up on trying to be mature about their situation, although they were both committed to giving it an honest shot. Things are great. Truthfully, she hasn’t felt this secure with Paige in a long time, not since Christmas and New Year’s, but even they couldn’t come close. She and Paige were locked in – for real this time – and knowing that was just so comforting.

They don’t change very much. They communicate a lot more and they’re more open about their feelings and insecurities, the two main things they had to hide from each other while they were fake dating. Paige is still affectionate, charmingly (or insufferably) flirtatious, and gets on each and every last one of Tess’s nerves. It’s not far off from how she behaved when they were “faking,” which kind of makes Tess mad – Paige’s was so fucking obvious and she just never realized, never allowed herself to entertain the thought that there was a little bit of truth to their lie. If Tess was being real, she’d have to admit that she didn’t really change, either, and she realizes she was being pretty obvious, too – she and Paige might just be a little oblivious.

February and the first week of March passes in a blur of traveling, games, and practice. The two of them make a more concerted effort to stay in touch, especially while they’re on the road, which is probably why Bree forcibly implements a “no phones after 10pm” rule when they have to room together. It’s not like they talk about anything weird – they mostly talk about Grey’s or Paige yaps about the NBA, but Bree says that Tess is “pussy-whipped” and “down bad” and that she can’t sleep through her giggling. That doesn’t happen, by the way, and Tess certainly does not giggle. Reluctantly, she adheres to Bree’s tyranny.

By the time the SEC tournament rolls around, Tess is fully cleared for play, although she’s under a minute restriction. The trust that Coach Staley has in her is honestly commendable – Tess herself would be hesitant to play her so soon after her injury and especially in a game as important as an SEC tournament one, but she’s not going to fuck up this opportunity. Both she and Coach Staley are cognizant of the five game maximum Tess needs to abide by to keep eligibility for next year. Tennessee and LSU are tough opponents and she understands that Coach would prefer to have her in these games instead of betting on making it to the NCAA tournament so Tess can play her five games there.

For the Texas A&M game, Tess is the first on the court for warmups. Tip off is an hour and a half away, so she locks in, dividing her time between shooting drills and stretching her legs while her teammates filter in. She feels good, but she’s still a little stiff. She knows there’s some lingering worry in the back of her mind – she’s healed, she’ll be fine, and she’s practiced with full contact, but playing against her teammates and the practice boys is nowhere near the same as playing against an actual opponent whose season is on the line. It will take her a couple of reps on the court before she gets hot and starts letting the ball fly, but she knows she’s not going to have a crazy game. Her main goal is to just have a good impact, whether it’s through scoring, defensive stops, or forcing contested shots.

Paige had wished her good luck and promised she would be watching. She said she would have flown out but she had her game against Providence in Rhode Island the very next day, so Tess forced her to keep her ass in Connecticut, much to Paige’s chagrin and disappointment. She swore she’d be able to make it in time. Tess was more concerned about Paige’s teammates having to deal with their sleep deprived captain and at this point in the season, the last thing the Huskies needed was Paige falling asleep during warm ups.

Warmups fly by and when tip off finally rolls around, Tess is on the bench for the first seven minutes of the quarter. When she’s subbed in for Bree, they’re up 12-9, and the resounding cheer that she receives is the loudest the arena has heard thus far. She grins as she jogs onto the court, high-fiving Bree as she passes. Texas A&M inbounds and misses, though the rebound is scooped up by Sania, who chucks it up court into Tess’s awaiting hands. She hardly thinks as she shoots. It circles the rim once before falling into Ashlyn’s grasp, whose putback is solid and puts them up 14-9, although Texas A&M is fouled in the scuffle.

She was hardly an inch off. After months off, she’s okay with that, but she knows her work is going to show. She won’t miss the second time.

Texas A&M only makes one of their two free throws. Te-Hina gets the ball and she shoots, although her shot is blocked by Janiah Barker and the ball rolls out of bounds. Te-Hina inbounds it, lobbing it to Tessa Johnson, who launches it right back to Te-Hina, who passes it to Tess, unguarded at the top of the key, and she lets it fly. The ball swishes in without much preamble and the crowd roars – Tess Kennedy’s first points back after her ACL injury. She musters a grin as she switches to defense.

Tess ends the quarter with an efficient 5 points and a steal – not bad considering her last game was last year’s Final Four. She starts the second where she’s particularly explosive – notching an additional 4 points, another steal, and an assist in the seven minutes she’s in. By halftime, she’s tallied 9 points, 2 steals, and her lone assist, but her teammates jostle and cheer and she can’t help but feel so, so good about herself – Tess Kennedy is so fucking back.

Coach Staley benches her for the first half of the third quarter, but she’s not mad. Coach already told her she wasn’t playing any more than twenty minutes and even that was pushing the limit. When she subs back in, they have a comfortable lead and she feels like she’s on fire. Kamilla and Ashlyn land three back to back layups (including an and one) in the first minute Tess is on court, and honestly, she just feeds off of that energy. On their next offensive possession, Ashlyn draws a crowd under the basket and kicks the ball out to Tess, who hardly thinks as she shoots it. It swishes in cleanly and she switches back to defense, where she forces a shot clock violation.

Texas A&M holds them scoreless until the last twenty or so seconds of the third. They’d begun to hound Tess at the perimeter, but she wasn’t going to let their suffocating defense allow them to close the lead too much. Texas A&M shoots a late three, though the ball clangs off the rim and is scooped up by Te-Hina. They have five seconds left on the clock and Te-Hina passes to Tess at the line. She dribbles, gearing up for a three, but she’s hounded on defense immediately. Tess spins out of the coverage, driving down the open lane, stepping back and letting it fly from midrange as the shot clock expires. It goes in. Tess exhales as the crowd erupts, hyped after an electrifying buzzer beater.

She sits for the entirety of the fourth, but the Gamecocks hold a comfortable lead and they secure the win 79-68. Tess closes out her first game back with a solid 14 points and 2 steals, and 3 assists. She couldn’t ask for much more. 

This was the moment she’d been working towards since May. Now that it’s here, it’s almost as surreal as her first college game ever, her first SEC win, her first NCAA championship game. Those hold a special place in her heart but coming off of an ACL injury and all of the shit she put herself through and performing at a high level just means more. If you’d asked her back in April, after she tore her ACL and was drowning in her own thoughts, she would have laughed at you and told her that it wasn’t possible. She would have said she would never play basketball again. But here she is, celebrating the first of three SEC wins that will punch their ticket directly to the NCAA tournament. It’s taken so much work to get back here, but she did it. She had some help and she’ll never forget that, but she dragged herself out of this mess as well as she dragged herself into it. That’s enough for her to be proud of.

Coach Staley makes her do the presser, which she’s less excited about, although the reporters seem to be on their best behavior today as they congratulate her on her first game back and her recovery. The reporters ask the typical questions: What adjustments did you make to stop Texas A&M’s comeback efforts? How have you adapted in practice to integrate Tess back into the plays? Will Tess play tomorrow for the Tennessee game? For once in their lives, they don’t ask anything particularly invasive, but Tess is just ready to get back to her apartment and relax after the day’s excitement.

When she does, Bree and Kamilla congratulate her one last time, wrapping her up in warm hugs as she grins at them. She makes it back to her room – finally – and turns on her phone to find several messages from Paige, ranging over the course of a few hours.

Good luck today You’re going to kill it 🫶

[Delivered 11:45am]

You look so pretty on the bench I’m getting my manager to reach out to the NCAA so they can start broadcasting bench cams I can’t focus on the game

[Delivered 12:07pm]

Tess Kennedy minutes!!! I’m so excited Lock their shit up baby

[Delivered 12:09pm]

Good shot I saw the hoop move Not your fault

[Delivered 12:11pm]

Kennedy for threeeeee Kennedy with the STEAL??? LAYUP Okay I’m On my Way! Autocorrect

[Delivered 12:13pm]

Tess reads through all of her messages, a beaming smile on her face at Paige’s goofiness. If she had this to look forward to after each game, then she’s going to show up and give everyone a show while she’s at it.

[Tess disliked “I’m getting my manager to…”]

is this tess kennedy’s biggest fan?! you should be careful i heard she has a gf

Does she?

she does they’re very locked in i dont think you have a chance

Bummer I think I could convince Tess Kennedy to give me a shot though

can you?

In lieu of a response, the FaceTime call comes through immediately and Tess accepts it with a grin. Paige’s face fills her screen, wearing a warm smile. “Hey, ma,” Paige says, her features softening. Tess can’t help her lovestruck expression. “Good game. You did amazing.”

Tess flushing, her grin growing at Paige’s words. “Thanks,” she says, her voice a near whisper. “I was just…honestly, I was just stoked to be playing again. I could have dropped a donut and turned the ball over and I still would have been happy. I get to play basketball again.”

“You do,” Paige hums, shifting slightly. “You worked so hard to get back here. Don’t forget it.”

Tess laughs gently. “I couldn’t if I tried.” Then, her face softens, her gaze so unashamedly full of adoration that Paige can see it clear as day through the phone. “My ACL led me to you. So…there were some good things that came out of it.”

Paige beams, her cheeks twinging with pink. “Yeah?” she asks bashfully. “You think that when I’m pissing you off?”

“You piss me off all the time,” Tess states. “So yes.”

Paige clutches her chest like she’s swooning, pretending to cry. “My girl says the sweetest things,” she proclaims, wiping an imaginary tear as Tess rolls her eyes affectionately. 

“Are you done?” Tess asks, amused.

“Nah. But you just dropped 14 points in a conference tournament so I’ll cut you a break.”

Tess huffs. “Thanks, Paige. I appreciate that one.”

Paige gives her a cheeky wink, her face all too smug. Tess can’t believe this is who she’s in love with, but as she watches the slow smile spread across Paige’s face as she rambles about the game, she can believe that this is who she fell in love with. Paige rounds out her sharp edges, grounds her, always challenges her, and makes her feel like she’s the most beautiful girl in the world. She believes in her unconditionally, supports her through it all, and understands her better than she understands herself. Her falling in love with Paige was always going to happen, but Paige falling in love with her, too, was something that she’d never take for granted.

APRIL 5, 2024

The last two games of the SEC tournament were incredibly tense. On March 9th, the Gamecocks battled the Tennessee Volunteers in the SEC semifinal, which was a nailbiter until the very end. At the end of the fourth, the Volunteers were up 73-71 with a little over a second left on the clock. Tess was tasked with inbounding the game ball after a foul by Tennessee – she passed to a wide open Kamilla, who, on her first three-point attempt of the season, banked it in and Tess and her teammates immediately swarmed her.

On the 10th, they were matched against LSU, which was…interesting. They won 79-72, but late in the fourth quarter, there was an intentional foul on Flau’jae Johnson that stopped the play and led to several ejections. Tess was more worried about getting her ass in position to score after MiLaysia tapped the ball out of Flau’jae’s hands, but the altercation occurred quick enough that Tess didn’t even know they were fighting until Kamilla knocked Flau’jae flat on her ass. Tess knew that this wasn’t her fight for multiple reasons. First of all, she’s 5’10 and she thought the weight room was optional until sophomore year. She is too pretty and too young to get laid out like that. Second of all, she’s not retearing her ACL by trying to throw down on the court. And third of all, she is reformed, thank you very much – she spent enough time trying to fix her image and she doesn’t think the media will be as lenient the second time around.

That’s probably why she gets turned into a meme after the game. One user on Twitter uploaded a screenshot of her standing alone in the middle of the court, hands raised in the air while everyone was fighting, and captioned it, “If I sent you this, it means that shit is not my business.” If Tess was being honest, that was pretty funny. Paige told her she made that picture her new lock screen and, well, that’s determinedly less funny since Paige’s old lock screen was allegedly a cute mirror selfie of the two of them.

As the SEC champions, they were guaranteed a place in the NCAA tournament, which Tess was stoked for. This would be her fourth year in a row back – in 2021, they fell short to Stanford by 1 point in the Final Four (goddamn Cameron Brink and Lexie Hull); they won in 2022; and Tess doesn’t even want to talk about the 2023 Final Four loss. All she knows is that they will put Iowa on a t-shirt this year (respectfully). Tess is back with a vengeance. That was her motto going into the NCAA tournament.

The first four games were cakewalks, excluding Indiana, although they pulled out a close win. Tess was on the bench until the Final Four game against NC State. She was looking forward to it for a myriad of reasons. NC State would be a challenge, but she was confident they were going to win. Combined with the fact that she and Paige would be in the same place since February, she was excited to get to spend some extra time with her girlfriend (provided they were able to sneak away). Their game wasn’t set to start until 7pm, which Tess was less than excited for. The silver lining was that she would be able to see Paige and the Huskies go head-to-head with Iowa. Tess will admit that she’s sad she won’t be the one kicking Iowa’s ass, but she and Paige share so much anyways; she can have the honor, even if Tess will lay awake at night thinking about all of the points she could have scored on her lick back game.

She and Paige managed to find the time to sneak away and spend a good few hours with each other that morning. Paige treated her to a nice brunch, much to Tess’s chagrin – Paige pays for entirely too much.

“You can get it next time,” Paige tells her, though the grin on her face was not convincing as she slid her card into the booklet and handed it off to their waitress. The smile she gave the waitress was polite and chaste, her full attention on Tess, and Tess couldn’t help but preen a little.

“I feel like you’re lying to me,” Tess grumbles good-naturedly.

“Oh, for sure,” Paige admits shamelessly, breaking out into quiet laughter when Tess rolls her eyes. Paige taps her ankle lightly with her foot, drawing Tess’s attention back up to her. “Gimme 20 tonight and I’ll let you get it. Promise.”

Tess huffs, amused as she narrows her eyes. “Let me?”

Paige shrugs. “We can do 15 if you feel like 20’s too much,” she goads, spinning the ice in her water nonchalantly with her straw. Tess’s eye twitches. Damn it.

“20’s fine,” she bites out. Paige smirks at her and she sighs, knowing she’s been baited. Paige extends her hand across the table and Tess half-heartedly shakes it.

They spend another hour together after they eat, although Tess’s coaches summon her and her teammates for some last minute film and practice. She knows that she and Paige will get to spend vastly more time together once the season ends, but leaving Paige alone in her hotel room to finish watching Grey’s feels more like leaving for war. She’d sighed when she read the text message, not really wanting to get up, but she was not in the mood to test Coach Staley.

Paige watches her get ready to go, her head propped up by a fist, her expression contemplative, soft, and sickeningly in love. If it were anyone else, Tess would have gagged, but there’s just something different about being sickeningly in love with someone and knowing that they’re sickeningly in love with you, too. Paige stares at her like she’s not dressed in sweatpants and a South Carolina hoodie, her hair in a loose bun, but the way her gaze lingers makes her feel like she’s the most beautiful girl in the world – knowing Paige, she’d undoubtedly agree, and that makes a small smile appear on her face as she slides into her shoes.

Paige catches her around the waist before she can leave fully, dragging her back down on the bed and kissing her one last time. It’s gentle, unhurried, and warm – Paige’s hand maps the flush on her cheek and she grins as they break away. “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” Paige whispers to her. She says it so confidently, so assured like it’s more fact than reassurance, and all Tess can honestly do is believe it. She tore her ACL during the last Final Four she played in, but she knows this one is different. This is the true test of her recovery, skills, and abilities; Tess Kennedy is back and everyone in the college basketball sphere will know it.

“You will too,” Tess says, kissing Paige again, only breaking away when Paige’s subsequent smile grows too large. She presses her lips to her cheek instead, squeezing her hand as she pulls away to tease, “Just don’t get too upset when we play in the championship again and I have to break your ankles.”

“Not happening,” Paige says smugly, which just makes Tess shake her head. “Gonna try to tune in for you but Coach is doing film and practice before our game. He hates me.”

“He wants you guys to win,” Tess corrects. “Maybe you should tell CD to reschedule so you can watch your girlfriend.”

Paige frowns at her. “You’d have a better chance scorin’ on me than I would convincin’ CD to do anything.”

Tess pulls away from her, an indignant look on her face. Paige laughs as Tess rolls her eyes. “Rude!” she exclaims, walking towards the door.

“Hey,” Paige calls, her laughter easing up and a more serious expression on her face. Tess turns, leaning against the wall, her smile fond as she locks eyes with Paige. “I’m serious. You got this, you know? Whatever happens, I’m proud of you. You worked so hard for this. Don’t overthink it, don’t get in your head, jus’ play your game. I love you.”

Tess feels something flip in her gut, a sort of weightlessness in her chest that makes her grin widen. She can’t help how stupid she probably looks, cheesing just because Paige told her that she loves her, but that confession is quickly becoming one of the things she never grows tired of hearing. She wouldn’t mind hearing it for the rest of their lives; Tess doesn’t care how soon it is. She’s sure that Paige is it for her. That thought doesn’t scare her at all. “Thanks, Paige,” she says, a little bashful, but Paige’s expression is understanding. “I love you, too.”

Paige blows her a cheeky kiss, which, ugh, Tess pretends to catch, but she can’t bring herself to care. And if Tess doesn’t even defend herself when Bree makes fun of her as soon as she gets to the conference room (extremely late), then that’s nobody’s business but her own.

Later that night, the NC State game goes about as well as expected.

Tess starts the first quarter, along with Kamilla, Te-Hina, Raven, and Chloe. They start the game off with an explosive five points notched within the first minute – a two pointer from Te-Hina and a three from Raven. Tess didn’t get very many touches in the first two possessions, but she played good defense and secured the steal that led to Raven’s three pointer. NC State holds them scoreless for two and a half minutes, increasing the lead to 7-5 in favor of NC State, although Kamilla ends their run early with a jumper that ties the game with just under six minutes left. A well-timed block from Kamilla sends the ball in Chloe’s direction and she scoops up the rebound, passing it to Tess on the wing, who knocks down her first three of the night. NC State ties it up again 10-10, then NC State scores off of a steal, then Ashlyn shoots, though the ball doesn’t fall and she picks up the offensive rebound. She kicks it out to Tess again, who takes a long two and it falls in. They’re tied 12-12 with about three minutes left, but Coach Staley motions for subs and Bree replaces Tess so she can get a quick breather. In the efficient seven minutes Tess was on the court, she notched five points on 100% shooting, one steal, and one assist, which was good enough for her as the Gamecocks close out the first quarter with a game-tying 3 point shot and the and 1 from Milaysia.

The second quarter starts with all of the starters back on the court, looking to retake the lead at 16-16. Kamilla and Tess are the only ones who score during the entire second quarter, which is frustrating as NC State forces four turnovers. At the end of the half, Tess has scored an additional 7 points with a few extra assists and a steal, tallying her statline at 12 points, two steals, and four assists. Kamilla accounts for an additional 16 of the Gamecocks’ 32 points.

The energy in the locker room is intense as Coach Staley fires them up, going over plays and adjustments. The shift is immediate when they return for the second half. They hold NC State to only six points in the third quarter while they score 29, increasing the score and their lead to 61-37. NC State could have an explosive fourth quarter, but Tess doesn’t plan to let that happen. While she was out with her ACL, one of the things about her game that she improved on immensely was her defense, which shows in the fourth as she ends the game with two more steals, a block, and other plays that won’t show on her stat sheet like forcing shot clock violations or contested shots. At the end of the game, confetti rains down as the Gamecocks are the Final Four winners, 78-59. Tess notched 20 of those points, only trailing behind Kamilla, who had 22. She celebrates with her team, excitement coursing through her body – she’d won the game and her bet with Paige. All in a day’s work.

She showers quickly and sits through the presser. A reporter asked her what it was like being back in the Final Four – and taking home the Final Four win – after last year’s disappointment, and all Tess could really say about it was, “It’s a blessing.” Her teammates led her here through an undefeated regular season and they trusted her enough to welcome her back on court during some of the most important games of their season – the SEC games, the Final Four. She’s overwhelmed with gratitude, appreciation, and love for the game, although her joy quickly fades when a reporter asks, “The championship match up will be between South Carolina and Iowa or South Carolina and UConn. How do you plan on facing personal conflicts of interest in either of those matches?”

Tess knows she’s trending before she even feels her face contort, although Kamilla pinches her thigh under the table and she schools her expression. She figures that the UConn conflict of interest – whatever the fuck that means – is more than likely referring to her and Paige, although she’s more confused about the Iowa one. Was it because Iowa defeated them last year and people are still trying to make it seem like Tess holds a grudge for her ACL?

Coach Staley hasn’t interrupted to say next question yet, so Tess answers it to the best of her ability. “Um, I can promise that there will be no personal conflicts of interest. I’m here to play ball. Nothing else to it. All of us, South Carolina, Iowa, UConn, whoever, we’re mature players and any off-court friendships are just that – off-court. We’re here to win. I don’t hold anything against Iowa for last year’s loss or my knee.” She leaves it at that, although the reporter was clearly expecting more, but she doesn’t care.

The rest of the conference keeps on moving until Coach Staley ends the questioning. Coach gives her a covert nod, appreciative of the way she answered the question, and Tess doesn’t wait around for any further instructions. She makes her way back out to the court, finding a seat in the stands as Iowa and UConn warms up. Paige glances up, her eyes scanning the crowd absentmindedly as she dribbles, before she finally locates Tess. There’s thousands of people in the arena already, but Tess feels like she and Paige are the only ones in the room when she smiles at her. Tess gives her a thumbs up.

Once the game finally starts, Tess is on the edge of her seat for the entirety of it. She doesn’t think she’s ever been more invested in a game she wasn’t personally playing in. Even when she was on the bench spectating her teammates while her knee was healing, part of her just couldn’t get into it fully. She was thinking about the plays, visualizing the X’s and the O’s, pondering what she would have done differently, how she would have taken that shot. Watching Paige play feels like Tess is playing, too. Whether or not Paige wins or loses this match feels personal. Tess wants this so badly for her. They’ve both been dealt a shitty hand of cards, with Paige tearing her ACL the year before Tess and missing her junior season; then Tess tore her ACL and missed 95% of her senior season.

UConn is up 19-14 at the end of the first, but it’s a hard fought 5 point lead. By the end of the half, UConn maintains a steady 6 point deficit, leading 32-26 as they go into the locker room for a much needed break and some review. The third quarter rolls around quickly and the team takes their place on court once more. It’s a tense ten minutes. Iowa finally clears the deficit and they’re tied 51-51 going into the fourth. The fourth is where Iowa truly begins to break away, leading by as much as nine points before UConn clears the gap. With a three from Nika, they’ve cut the lead down to 1 with 40 seconds on the clock. With less than ten seconds remaining, KK pokes the ball out of Hannah Stuelke’s hands, and Tess rises to her feet, all of the blood rushing to her head as she watches on with an odd combination of hope and fear.

Nika brings the ball up, passing to Paige who hands it right back, circling around to draw her defender while Aaliyah sets a screen. Tess almost blacks out when she hears the whistle. Offensive foul on Edwards. The UConn fans surrounding her clamor in disbelief, booing loudly, and all she can do is watch, her hands over her head. Tess can’t believe it’s ending like this.

71-69, Iowa. Tess still hasn’t processed it, even after watching Paige and her teammates make their way to the locker room in defeat. She doesn’t process it when the team group chat lights up, discussing how Iowa is their official natty match. She doesn’t process it when Kamilla texts her personally, extending her condolences towards Paige, but what she does process is the second message from Kamilla reading, “Get them back.” She plans on it.

Tess’s thumbs hover over her keyboard ten minutes later, trying to figure out what to say to Paige. Tess has known Paige – personally – for almost a year, but she doesn’t know how to approach her. There’s nothing she can say or do that will take back the officiating, but as a competitor, too, she knows the game shouldn’t have come down to a call or free throws. She doesn’t know if Paige wants time alone right now or if she wants someone to lean on. Tess knows she has to at least try, although Paige beats her to it before she can put her jumbled thoughts into words.

I can see you typing It’s okay

Paige’s own text bubbles blur in and out for a moment, but Tess doesn’t send anything.

Can you come to my room? After press Please I’ll kick Ice out

i’ll be there

Thank you

Tess sends a single heart emoji back, not expecting a response, and she doesn’t get one. Her heart hurts for Paige. She just went through the toughest season of her life, and it ends like this. Tess wouldn’t be satisfied. She knows Paige isn’t. But right now, she needs a moment to rest, to decompress, to feel the loss instead of sitting and giving media-approved answers for 20 minutes.

Before Tess heads out to Paige’s hotel room, she swings by the nearest gas station first, stocking up on a bunch of candies, a drink for each of them, and a pint of ice cream. She’s unsure if Paige will have an appetite after the game, but it wouldn’t hurt. Once she’s paid and all of her groceries are in their bags, Tess makes her way to the hotel to wait.

Paige doesn’t keep her waiting for too long. Tess is lounging on the bed, eating Sour Patch Kids when the door unlocks with a click. Paige shuffles in, her bag slung over her shoulder, and the look on her face is all Tess needs to see. Wordlessly, Paige drops her bag on the ground and doesn’t even kick off her shoes before she’s crawling into the bed next to Tess, wrapping her arms around her waist and laying on top of her. Her hair is still a little damp when Tess undoes the hair tie, brushing her fingers through the blonde waves, dragging her fingertips against her scalp. Paige is tense against her but she relaxes as Tess stretches out, creating a little pocket for Paige to slot her legs against.

Paige is the first to break the silence. “D’you get those gummy cluster things?” she asks forlornly. Of all of the things Tess was expecting her to say, that was not one. She can’t help her surprised laughter.

“Of course I did,” she says, pressing her lips to Paige’s forehead. “They’re your favorite.” Paige doesn’t move, but she cranes her head, her ear directly over Tess’s heart. Her arms tighten around her. “I’m sorry,” Tess says after a while.

“It’s okay,” Paige says quietly. Her voice cracks. “Shoulda never come down to that. Calls, free throws, whatever.” Tess can’t help but smile a little bit, knowing that’s exactly what Paige would say. “Gonna be sore for a while but we’re gonna be there next year.”

“You will,” Tess promises. Paige shifts her head, looking up at Tess. The expression on her face is defeated, but Tess knows Paige well enough by now that she recognizes that fire, the spark of determination in her eyes. This is just a set-back. They did the impossible, damn it. Paige led them to the Final Four after coming back off of an injury, after losing most of the team to other injuries. Countless people said they wouldn’t be able to do it and Paige proved them wrong. “You’ll lead your team to the Final Four again next year. Tell Geno to recruit someone crazy from the portal. You’ll get some pretty good freshmen next year. You’ll win the Final Four, and you’re gonna come see me in the natty tournament ‘cause I’m not making that win easy for you. But you’re gonna lead them to that win and you’re gonna kick our ass. You, one of your crazy ass freshmen, and one of your sharpshooters – Ashlynn or Azzi. Maybe both. Then they’re gonna talk about us. Romeo & Juliet, Bueckers & Kennedy, cringy shit like that.”

At that, Paige can’t help her watery laughter, her eyes shining just a little brighter. “You think that’s happening?” Paige asks, amused. “I’on know if you can put your ego aside and lose like that.”

Tess raises her finger, grinning softly at Paige. “See, I’ve thought about it. Walk with me here.” Paige hums, rolling her eyes, but her expression is unbelievably fond as she gazes at Tess. “So, here’s us. February 8th, 2021. Our first game together. You kick my ass. Then every game we played since then, I kicked your ass. Now, it’s only full circle if you win the first and the last games we play against each other collegiately. It’s, like, written in the stars. But you’re not winning just ‘cause it’s fate, you win because you drop a nuke and you have that transfer portal weapon, your scary ass freshman, and your sharpshooters, like I said. For my other point – I know I always say ‘Tess Kennedy doesn’t lose twice!’ but hear me out. If I lose to you, I’m technically winning, because I have two natty rings, then my girlfriend has a natty ring, and then in like a couple years, my girlfriend’s gonna get me an actual ring because her natty win increases her draft stock, which means she goes to a professional team and makes the big bucks. Are you following?”

Paige shakes her head. “Not at all,” she murmurs, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to Tess’s lips. Tess can’t help but smile, reciprocating, their kiss deep and unhurried until Tess remembers where they are.

She draws back, her brows furrowed. “Wait, are you for real?” she asks indignantly. “I just mapped out the next five years of our lives and you weren’t even listening?”

Paige huffs in amusement. “Little hard to focus ‘cause you basically said you wanna marry me.”

Tess clamps her mouth shut, flushing. She did say that, didn’t she? “Well,” Tess says slowly. “That’s not my main point. Unless you want it to be. But even if you do, it’s not–”

“Tess,” Paige laughs, getting serious. “You wanna?” Her voice is softer now, her eyes firmly on Tess’s.

Her blush deepens and she tilts her head back, sighing. “It’s early, I know,” she concedes. “So I know that probably freaked you out. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Not what I asked,” Paige reminds her, grinning mischievously at her. “Do you wanna?”

“I feel like I’ve known you forever,” is what Tess says instead, and Paige’s smile grows a little more adoring. “I know it’s technically only been two months officially, which makes me sound like a loser when I say it out loud. It feels like so much longer than that, though. I’ve been into you since June but honestly, I was probably into you from the start. So, I guess, yeah. I would. But like super far from now. You need to worry about kicking my ass in the championship. Then you gotta get drafted. Then you can see if I even like you in like five years from now.”

“Five years is good enough for me,” Paige says softly, leaning up to kiss Tess again. It’s gentle, tooth-achingly sweet, and feels more like a promise than anything else. When she draws back, she’s smiling at Tess. “So, you and me next year? Don’t throw the game or I’ll be mad at you forever.”

Tess scoffs. “I would never do that shit. That’s an insult to you and me. But we’re gonna be there and you’re just gonna kick our ass. And I won’t even be mad because I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Yeah?” Paige murmurs. “What’s that?”

“I’ve got my rings,” she says. “I mean, I’ll have my rings plural on Sunday because now I gotta get revenge on Iowa for last year and revenge on behalf of you. We’re a package deal now.”

Paige snorts affectionately. “Are we?”

Tess hums in confirmation, trying not to think too much about the lovestruck expression on Paige’s face. “So, I have my rings. I’ll cement my name in the Gamecock record books. I’ll get drafted – probably at number two, but that just means my team will suck just a little less than yours.” Paige laughs again as Tess throws up her finger in an ‘L’ shape. “But, I have you, too, now. You weren’t part of the plan. I was just supposed to ball, break some records, get drafted, do my thing.” Tess glances down, fully looking at Paige now, whose eyes are full of amusement, wonder, and warmth. “I’m glad you happened, though. I get to ball and be your girl, which I guess is a much better plan.”

“You guess?” Paige croons. Tess shakes her head, horrendously in love as Paige plants a chaste kiss on her lips, grinning against her. “‘M glad I get to ball and be yours, too. None of that I guess bullshit because I’m not ashamed of bein’ in love like you are.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “Don’t put words in my mouth, asshole. You know I love you.”

Paige’s expression turns tender, unashamedly in love as she’d said. Tess can’t help the sudden cartwheels that her heart does at the sight. “I do,” she murmurs, kissing Tess again, slow, soft, lingering. “I love you, too. So much. Thank you for bein’ here.”

“Of course,” Tess whispers, smiling at her. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

And she wouldn’t. Her teammates are out celebrating their Final Four win before their next game on Sunday. She could be with them, watching film, doing more scouting, knowing that she has something to prove. But she knows she’s capable. Her teammates and coaches know she’s capable. Paige knows she’s capable, so for now, she doesn’t care about what game they’re playing on Sunday, who they’re playing, why they’re playing. She’s with Paige right now. As far as she’s concerned, nothing else matters but her. It can all wait for tomorrow.

APRIL 7, 2024

Tess is certain she’s never been more focused in her entire life. She was first on court for warmups, airpods in as she worked on her handles, footwork, and shooting. Paige even showed up shortly after she did with many of her teammates in tow – Aaliyah, Nika, KK, Ice, Ashlynn, to name a few, but Tess locked back in on her warm ups after sharing a private smile with Paige. They had plenty of time to stare at each other once Tess finished wiping the floor with Iowa.

With her warmup playlist blasting in her ears, Tess zones back in on the ball, working her way through her drills. She only pauses to stretch when her teammates start flowing in along with the coaching staff and trainers. As much as she’d prefer to be shooting right now, she takes the stretching seriously, knowing she needs to be loose for the upcoming match. There’s only an hour left before tipoff, but each and every second is spent crossing up the poor practice boys who honestly weren’t expecting Tess to be so ruthless, shooting from increasingly further distances behind the line, and working on her drives. She remembers what Paige had told her so long ago – the fake drives, the tendency to shoot purely from behind the line. She was confident Iowa would have one of their better defenders on her to shut down her three-point shooting, which is why she was going to make a conscious effort to take more drives into the paint.

Before player introductions and the starting line-ups are announced, Coach Staley grabs her by her bicep after she pulls her shirt over her head, leaving her in her jersey. “I know this game means a lot to you,” Coach Staley says, unwavering in her firm eye contact. “Don’t let it consume you. Play smart, or your ass is gonna spend the game on the bench.”

Tess nods, refocusing. “Got it,” she promises. Her coach searches her eyes before nodding, releasing her. Then, starting lineups are finally introduced with Tess gaining a round of applause that nearly rivals Caitlin’s. The two teams line up for tip-off, and soon, the game is underway. Kamilla wins the opening tip, sending it back to Chloe who passes to Raven who directs traffic to her liking. The ball is sent back to Chloe, who can’t finish at the rim, and Kate Martin scoops up the rebound. At their end of the court, Iowa passes the ball with quickness until it lands back in Kate’s hands and she knocks down the three.

Raven brings the ball up court and it bounces between Chloe, Tess, Kamilla, and then Tess once more as she steps back behind Kamilla, shooting the ball cleanly over her head for a three, tying the game. Iowa brings the ball down with Hannah trying a lay-up, although she misses, and the ball goes the other direction as quickly as it had left. Raven brings it up, but Te-Hina is a little too strong on her jumper. At the other end of the court, Kate’s two-point shot is good, totaling 5 points for Iowa to South Carolina’s 3. Kamilla’s layup is off, but Iowa’s isn’t, pushing the lead to 7-3.

It was cute at first, although Tess isn’t impressed. She didn’t rehab her knee just to trail Iowa 7-3 in the first two minutes of the national championship match. She’ll apologize to Coach Staley later, but if her teammates want to play the “run up and down the court” game, then she’ll play the “shoot the ball and score” game. She’s never this irritated at the beginning – you have to let it develop, but there’s too much riding on it to lose so early. She told Caitlin she was coming for her back in May. She basically promised Paige she’d win today, and Kamilla told her to get them back. She promised herself she’d get them back. The only way this game is ending is with Tess wearing that stupid hat for the second time.

Raven brings the ball up again, passing to Kamilla, but she’s instantly swarmed and she kicks the ball back out to Tess, waiting patiently at the wing. Caitlin’s guarding her. She watches film as much as Tess does, which is why Tess presses for the drive, faking a hesitancy that Caitlin immediately picks up on, but she commits to it at the last moment when Caitlin missteps. Tess takes it to the basket, laying it in easily, but she doesn’t spare it a second glance as she gets back on defense. Judging by the explosion of the crowd, she knows it’s gone in. At 7-5, Tess is on Caitlin like glue, getting a hand in her face and causing her two-point attempt to sail out of bounds. She hardly reacts as they inbound it. Caitlin tries to shake her off before she gets her hands back on the ball, but Tess is planted firmly. Eventually, the ball is passed to Caitlin, but Tess anticipates the step-back and swats the ball away, landing in the hands of one of her teammates. They bring it up, passing to Tess who passes immediately to Kamilla and she banks in the layup, tying the game.

While Caitlin’s bringing it up, Tess honestly expects her to pass, so she’s slow on trying to block Caitlin’s three-point attempt, which results in Tess fouling her and Caitlin being awarded three free throw attempts. A mistake on Tess’s part – Coach would get her for that later, but she extends her hands out to Caitlin to help her up. “That was for the knee,” she jokes. Caitlin huffs in amusement, though Tess taps her chest as she returns to the huddle. Caitlin makes all three shots, taking back the lead with 10-7.

The first quarter continues in a steady back and forth. Te-Hina lands a three, Caitlin responds with a layup, Kamilla misses a two-pointer. On Iowa’s next possession, Tess gets a hand in there and steals the ball from her, sprinting down to their end of the court and laying the ball in on the fastbreak. Tied 12-12, Caitlin’s bringing the ball back up and Tess is on her until Chloe calls for her to switch. With Tess now on Kate and Chloe guarding Caitlin, Chloe knocks the ball out of her hands, though one of Caitlin’s teammates secures it, lobbing it back to Caitlin, who shoots for the three and is fouled by Chloe. Tess hopes there’s not a camera honed in on her expression because there would be think pieces published about how Tess has beef with Chloe Kitts, and honestly, she might start because what the fuck was that? Tess can’t complain too much since she fouled Caitlin the same way. Everyone just needs to get in the weight room and grow a pair – all of this falling down is getting pretty embarrassing. Caitlin makes two of her three shots, and Tess is subbed out after both Chloe and Kate miss their layups.

Tess doesn’t enter the game until there’s a minute and a half left of the first quarter and the scores have evened out. Tess’s two point jumper is good when she subs back in, tallying the total 22-20 in favor of Iowa. Caitlin makes a layup, Tess responds with a three-pointer, and one last three-point shot from Iowa seals the first quarter after Tessa Johnson misses her own three.

Tess returns to the bench to prepare for the second quarter. That honestly felt like the longest ten minutes of basketball that she’s ever played before. So far, Tess has tallied 12 points, one assist, one block, and one steal. Iowa has a slim four point lead at 27-23, though Coach Staley is already drawing up some second quarter adjustments. She moves Raven to defend Caitlin and the really specific instruction of, “Pass Tess the ball” is incredibly helpful and motivating.

From then out, it’s an entirely new game. Raven’s defense is suffocating and she holds Caitlin to only three points in the second quarter. Their offense shifts with most of the point production coming from Kate, Hannah, and one single three-pointer from Sydney. South Carolina outscores them 26-19 in the second quarter, and going into halftime, South Carolina holds a slim 3-point lead at 49-46.

The third quarter passes similarly. Raven holds Caitlin to four points, South Carolina outscores Iowa 19-13, and they’ve increased the deficit to 9, leading the game with 68-59. Tess has slowed down after the first quarter. Her job is to remain consistent, and so far, she has. Her first foul on Caitlin was a mistake – Coach Staley warned her about letting it consume her, but she was too worried about trying to destroy the point gap after Iowa outscored them in the first. With 12 points in the first, 7 in the second, and a calm 6 in the third, Tess heads into the last quarter of the game with 25 points.

In the fourth, Tess gets her 30, scoring only five points in the three minutes she plays but doing a lot more defensively. Coach Staley subs her in for Bree once more and she returns to the bench, receiving a convincing round of applause. She can’t help but smile as she sits, feeling accomplished – if you’d asked her in May, she never would have thought she’d be back here after tearing her ACL. She would have wondered if you were the one high off anesthesia if you told her she had to fake date Paige Bueckers, and she honestly wouldn’t have believed you either if you told her that she’d fall in love with Paige Bueckers, either – but life has a incredibly strange way of working. She trusts her teammates to secure the win and her confidence grows as they keep increasing the gap.

They know they’ve won once all of the starters return to the bench with applause. The final buzzer is only formality and Tess quickly gets lost in the celebration, cheering with her teammates, accepting the corny ass hats, and taking picture after picture with the glimmering trophy. But she grows tired of it quickly – at this point, winning had simply felt like a job she needed to do, as terrible as it sounds. She cared more about proving herself after her injury. As much as she wants to joke about it being a revenge game, it never was – not for herself, not for Paige. Neither of them are keen on revenge, more focused on getting better and taking the win for themselves, for the teammates, for all of the hard work they poured into training to get here. Part of her really wants to celebrate for Paige. Tess wouldn’t be here without here, but Paige would tell her that’s not true. She knows this moment is for her and her team, for the players leaving, for the younger players with the hope of a repeat next year. So she soaks it all in, trying to relish in the win.

Once it all dies down, she ducks back into the tunnel, looking forward to a hot shower so she can get through the subsequent presser. The quicker she’s in bed, the better, but her plan derails again when she finds Paige, alone, leaning against the wall across from the locker room. The blonde’s smile grows when she spots Tess. She lengthens her strides, falling into Paige’s open arms with a startling swiftness. Tess knows she’s gross and sweaty, but Paige doesn’t seem to care, the scent of her cologne making her head spin. “Congrats, Tess,” she whispers, her voice reverent and soft. She leans back to look at her with a mischievous expression. “30 points? Who you showin’ out for?”

Tess rolls her eyes. “Please shut up,” she says, not letting Paige say anything else as she pulls her down a few inches, capturing her lips in her own. Tess knows that this win should mean more to her….but it doesn’t. It’s a national championship win, her second of her collegiate career, and she just dropped 30 points on a tough opponent. She worked her ass off to get here. She spent several months in rehab, several weeks trying to get over the alcohol dependence, and an uncomfortably long time trying to figure out how to love herself and others when she was at her lowest. And she knows it’s corny, that she sounds horrendously down bad, but she feels more like a winner in Paige’s arms than she did holding up that fucking trophy.

Paige draws her in by her waist, eliminating the space between them completely, tilting her head for better access and Tess can’t help but give in to her. This is what she worked so incredibly hard for. She worked hard to be able to play basketball again – and she did. She worked hard to be the kind of person that Paige Bueckers deserves – and, well, the jury’s still out on that one, but Paige loves her, so maybe she’s doing something right. Paige smiles against her, one hand reaching up to cup Tess’s cheek, deliberately slowing them down. Their kiss turns more tender, unhurried, and Tess can feel the remnants of it down to her toes when Paige pulls back, squeezing her gently. “You and me, same time next year?” Paige murmurs.

At that, Tess can’t help but laugh. She presses one last kiss to Paige’s lips, feeling her smile grow as she promises, “Same time next year.”

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

I accidentally deleted this request but i still remember it. so I apologise to who requested it!

Prompt 8: Secret Santa

Prompt 19: "I know it's not much but-" "-it's perfect"

SECRET SANTA

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: in which your friend group decides to do a secret Santa. and Eddie doesn't really care, not until he sees who he got. Warnings: One use of Y/n, I'm sorry, ok?!

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie dug a ringed hand into the beanie that Steve had brought around the group.

He didn't really care for this, whoever he got he was going to chuck a few chocolates and candy their way and call it a day. he didn't have the money nor the energy to actually do this activity right.

i know what you're thinking. if he didn't want to do it then why is he here, in Steve Harrington's Livingroom with all his friends doing this?

well the answer to that question is the echo of your laugh ringing in his ear as he pulled the name out of the beanie.

Steve moved on and waved the hat in front of Dustin, who was too busy trying to see who Eddie had gotten to realise it was his turn

Eddie flipped open the piece of ripped paper and there he saw your neat handwriting, your name written so perfectly.

maybe he would try.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie frowned. A week had past and he had no idea what to get you. At this point, it would be easier to slap a bar of chocolate and call it a day.

But he couldn't do that

There had to be some kind of thought behind it

If he just bought a quick snack for you to eat you would probably assume he doesn't care about you. Which is totally not true.

And what if he didn't get the brand you like? What if you were allergic to the flavour he got? What if you just didn't like chocolate

Eddie was becoming a mad man, overthinking everything.

You like music. He doesn't know what bands though

You like art, but are you more of a drawer or painter?

You like animals. But he can't get you a pet

This was so bullshit

Only girls know what to buy girls

So he went to one of the weirdest and coolest girls he knows.

"Robin, you're a girl" Eddie fidgeted as he slowed down to walk with her

The group were out in town for a lunch at the diner and he took his chance when he saw you walking at the front with Steve, ignoring the bubbling of jealousy, he stayed behind to ask Robin a question that was killing him on the inside

"Good observation skills you got there, dimwit" she snorted. Shaking her head disapprovingly

"No- I mean.. what do you buy for a girl?" He asked nervously, scratching the back of his neck

"Are we talking a little kid or do you mean a woman, Eddie?" The blonde girl replied. Of course she knows what he means, she just likes winding him up

Eddie sighed "a woman, Robin"

"And would this be for the secret santa?" Robin questioned knowingly

"Robin, just please" he begged.

Eddie needed help, he needed to know what to get you, to impress you

It was like the gods have given him a chance. And he'd be dammed if he got you a gift you hated

"You got Y/n, didn't you?" The Buckley girl asked

How does she do that? Eddie thought to himself

"No..."

"Aren't you friends with her? You should know what to get her" Robin shrugged

Which then raised the question

He is friends with you, right? He counted you as a friend, but did you count him as one?

Either way. Eddie definitely didn't talk to you as much as he'd like to.

Which makes him think, does he love you when he doesn't know anything about you

Wait.. he loves you?

"Robin, please, I'm freaking out here.. we give presents in 3 days and I have no ideas on what to get her"

"I heard her talking about how she needs a new bra the other day" his friend said casually

Eddie's steps came to a halt as he feels his whole body heat up. Robin laughs to herself seeing Eddie's red face and pink ears, blushing like a mad mad.

He can't get you a bra...isn't that.. harassment? Eddie thought to himself

"No.. I'm not getting her a new bra.. anything that isn't... weird"

"Oh well if you said not weird then I have a whole bunch of things you can get her!" Robin smiles cheerfully

That was a lie.

Robin had started blackheads at the curly headed boy who smiled back enthusiastically, asking what it is

"Eddie, you... poor man... there isn't anything you could give her that isn't weird... because its you"

Ouch.

Plan Robin was a fail.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie layed in his bed. Hands together in his chest and he stared up at his ceiling

He was supposed to be leaving in 20 minutes but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed

Not when the plush toy stared at him from his desk, taunting him.

He can't show up to Steve's house to give you a stupid teddy bear. He'd look like a fucking idiot.

He leaned up, staring at the soft plush animal. He was told it was your favourite animal by Robin, the only semi-useful thing she had told him 3 days ago.

He frowned, it wasn't even fucking wrapped!

He got up. Going to the cupboard, he didn't have wrapping paper.. but he had old newspapers that he used to use for craft laying around. He could use that, right?

.

He glared down at the present. A lump of paper strangled by a whole roll of tape.

He wasn't the best wrapper, ok?

Eddie thumped his head on his desk, banging it until he groaned in pain, holding his temple, shaking his head

This was useless. He's not going. He can't go. He won't do it to himself.

He rubbed his hands down his face. His tired and lazy eyes met with the little figurines he had personally made for dnd.

Of course. How could he be so stupid? He cursed himself for forgetting that he had made a little figure that represented you a few months back.

It wasn't for you, per se, but he wanted to secretly incorporate you in the game. You didn't even play, so it wasn't like you could call him out saying the little elf princess resembled you.

If he gave you this it would be seen as thoughtful and maybe even flattering, that he took the time to make you. Which he did do, but this way if was less creepy.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie walked into Steve's living room, gift in hands with a sheepish smile.

Seeing you there, next to Robin, almost made his balls sweat. You looked beautiful.. you weren't gonna like his gift, but before he could turn back, Robin greeted him happily.

Jesus H Christ, Robin Buckley.

Eddie's smile tightened as you looked over, a soft smile planted on your plush lips as you said hello.

He lifted his hand to wave but slapped it back to his side quickly before going over to the tree. This was going to kill him.

He sat beside Dustin and made short conversation with the freshmen when he heard a hushed whisper of his name.

You were looking over at him when he looked back. You quickly turned away, your face flushing red as Eddie frowned

Were you making fun of him? Teasing him? Right, you must have thought you were a freak just like the rest of them.

It was hopeless, loving you. After so long you'd think he would learn to move on. Or maybe actually pack up the courage to talk to you, even in a group setting.

It was beyond you, the way he felt towards you. You assumed he didn't like you cause he never made any attempt to talk to you, and when you'd go up to start a conversation with him, he'd rush away, having something brilliant to say to Dustin. So you just gave up trying to be his friend, if he didn't like you.

But it was too late to take his gift back and run because Steve had announced it was gift time.

One by one, each member of the group went up to the tree and found the gift with their name on it.

Eddie stood up and grabbed the box, wrapped neatly in red and green wrapping paper, stuck together with a bow on the top. His name written messily on a ripped piece of paper that was taped to the top.

Dustin shook his box as Eddie sat back down, While You got up to get your gift.

Eddie nervously watched as you walked up to the tree. Looking down at the two presents left. You frowned at you picked it up, going back to your spot on the couch

You haven't even opened it and you already hated it.

Then one by one they started to open the presents. Guessing who had gifted them the present in their hands, Dustin had Guessed Lucas, Lucas had guessed Robin, Robin had guessed Mike, Mike had guessed Steve, Steve had guessed Mike, Eddie had guessed Nancy, Nancy had guessed you..

And as you opened your gift, tearing open the plush toy, your eyes immediately went to Robin, and you shook your head, smiling softly, noticing the small wrapped present.

You didn't take it out from the box as you opened it, but he could tell your reaction was mixed by the squint in your eye that was quickly replaced by a wide eye grin. Your gaze lifted and landed on Eddie.

You guessed him.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie fought to catch you before you left. Making sure he was the last person to say goodbye as you left the Harrington home.

He followed you out, right to your car door before he stopped you.

The plushie raised to your chest as you snugged the soft fur of it. The figurine you kept in the small box he had put it in, held in your hand as he smiled sheepishly at you

"I uh-" he stopped himself, itching the back of his neck

He should run while he can, save himself from the embarrassment before you turn him away.

You don't even like him, right?

"I hope you like the gifts" he settled for., eyes tearing away from yours as he lazily pointed to the plush and the box.

"I do.. their really cute, thank you" you beamed up at him

Cute? You called him cute?! -oh wait

His faint blush drained from his face when he realised he misheard you.

"I know it's not much but-" he looked down at the floor before you cut him off

"-it's perfect"

Eddie looked back up at you, eyebrows raised "Yeah?"

"Yeah" you nodded "you can never have enough toys on your bed. I swear my bed it full of them.. and the figurine, wow.. the detail is amazing, Eddie.. I can't believe you'd do that"

Of course he'd do that. Totally not for his enjoyment for making the game better, but for you to enjoy, maybe on display or in the trash, he doesn't care.

-he does-

"I know you don't play but-" he started before you cut him off again

"I was actually hoping to ask if you'd want to teach me how to play... you guys reference it so much I just wanted to understand it.. if you want to?" You asked

"Of course I want to! I mean hellfire could use someone like you" he stood up straighter

You were interested in him? Well not him but- yeah sure let's go with him, for his sake.

"Someone like me?" You questioned teasingly

"A-an elven princess" he pointed to the little box in your hand.

You hummed and smiled, looking up at him so gently it made him want to faint.

After a moment of silence, Eddie decided that was enough because if he stared at you for one more second trying not to tell (scream) that he loves you, he would break.

"Well.. merry Christmas" he smiled tightly before backing up

"Oh, Eddie, Wait" you stopped him, opening your care door and placing the gifts on your passenger seat before leaning over to the back.

Eddie stood in his place, trying not to stare at your ass as you leaned over. He closed his eyes, licking his lips.

When his eyes fluttered open again, you were right in front of him, holding out a little wrapped box with a cute bow in it.

He looked up at you, confused before you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek

"Merry Christmas, Eds"

You backed away. Your hands together, fiddling with your fingers as if you were nervous. You got in your care and shut the door when he finally realised you had given him a gift.

As as you drove away, he opened it.

Opening the small box, his heart almost skipped a beat.

It wasn't much, but to Eddie it meant everything.

It made him know that you pay attention, that maybe you care about him, maybe in the way he does you.

And it was even sweeter because you didn't have to get him anything, you weren't his Santa.

You got him a ring

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY

[dooberific]

Hiiiiiii!! Can I ask for Harumasa x Reader angst? They are lovers and the reader is also Harumasa's colleague. Then the reader got commissioned(?) to fight hollows but she got stuck in that place and (idk if they went to fight hollows alone but for this request, they have like underlings(?) that would go with them for the mission) the people/fighters that the reader went with to the hollows came back heavily injured and Harumasa saw that the reader is not there with them. That is all hehe, it's up to you if you want the reader to be found or if they would be a hollow and Harumasa has to fight them knowing that that is the reader (I'm a sucker for angst)

Take your time doing this request and stay healthy, dear author!

Anon….who hurt you on Christmas? 😭. Hope this is close to what you were envisioning!

❝ 𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 ❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre: hurt no comfort, major character death

summary: it was supposed to be a routine mission, now he’s left to pick up the pieces

wc: 2.3k

There was a ring cut to your size. A thin and silver little band that lacked grandiose ornamentation. Diamonds and frills were never your thing after all, he could still see the little quirk in your lips at the memory of your colleagues rushing in with stones so large you thought them better fit for paperweights than proclamations of their belonging to another under the banner of love and marriage. “Practicality above all else,” you had claimed some months ago, thumbing at the simple band around your index finger. Your late mother’s ring.

He hoped you were the sentimental kind, your voice warbled over the line from the outpost in his ear as he smiled. “I’m just saying to be careful is all.” He asserted, fingers running aimlessly over the silver band resting in his palm. Your initials and his were cut into the inside. 

It was supposed to be your day off, the first you had taken in several months, but when H.A.N.D phoned you that they needed your section of the HSO to assemble for a rescue mission after a Defense Force team had vanished inside of Hollow Zero, well….you didn’t get the luxury of saying no, even if you were the Chief. 

“When am I not careful? Remember which one of us you’re talking to here, Haru.” You chided, the smile on your face so present he could hear it change the lilt of your voice. 

“Right, right, I’m talking to my beautiful, kind, intelligent and all around perfect girlfriend~” Though he hoped that title would be changing very soon, as he held the ring up to the light, the sun filtering through the window of your shared apartment dancing enticingly over its surface. 

You giggled in his ear, the sound warming him to the soul. He could practically see the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled in delight.  “That’s much better.”

The interference in the background of the call amplified, faint callings of your name cutting through the static. You sounded disappointed. “Sorry Haru, I gotta go.”

“It’s okay baby, duty calls. Just try to be home for dinner.”

“Wouldn’t miss a date night for the world, you better not peek in the closet while I’m gone! I want that dress to be a pleasant surprise later.” 

You fell quiet again as you pulled the receiver away from your mouth, yelling a response into the background. “They’re about to have an aneurysm over here,” you huffed. 

“I love you, Haru~”

“I love you too, (y/n)~”

That was a little after noon. It was now nearing midnight and the outpost was crawling with H.A.N.D uniforms and HSO stragglers. Countless outpost scientists shouldered through the crowd, chiming off readings and acting as if they just had a some great scientific breakthrough.

But you were still inside of Hollow Zero.

And H.A.N.D was beginning to withdraw. 

Even flashing his Section 6 badge failed to get him answers despite his insistence, earning little more than the shake of a head and a “this is above your paygrade, kid.”

They threatened to court martial  him if he kept accosting them. But they didn’t have you inside the Hollow like he did. The epitome of his happiness, the one he swore hung the moon and stars, his most constant companion, and the only one he could imagine waking up beside of until the day he expired. 

They didn’t have you, but they had the version of you that made their actions palatable. The “good soldier” and “valiant leader”. The slave to a public that didn’t care to know your name even as you shouldered their burdens as ceaselessly as atlas held the heavens. The one who signed up for a death job.

A chorus of shouts erupted, the flash of the medical units blazing to life under the white spotlights. 

Survivors.

He shouldered his way through the swell of the crowd with little regard for those he pushed aside. In a perfect world he would break from the crowd and see you standing there, a little worse for wear but alive and smiling like you just cheated the world. You would push past the medic teams as they chased you down to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips as you gloated playfully.

“See? What’d I tell you? Safe and sound.” 

But you weren’t there. A cluster of five soldiers stumbled through the outer bounds of the Hollow—no, those weren’t soldiers, they were members of your faction carrying the torn uniforms of Defense Force operatives. They dripped with blood and grime, corruption marring their skin as they limped out, half-dragging others.

“Hey!” He yelled over the roar of the crowd as he grabbed one of them by the shoulder. His name badge shined under the lights. Kimura.

 “Where’s your chief?”

The man shoved his hand away, “Get off me man!”

He didn’t know where he got the strength as he grappled with Kimura before taking two fistfuls of his collar. “Where’s your fucking Chief? Where’s (y/n)?!” 

Multiple pairs of hands tore at his uniform from behind as they hauled him off, legs kicking as he wrestled against their pull.

“Where is she?”

“She’s stayed behind!” 

Kimura’s face was blank, his eyes distant and foggy as he stared at the ground. There were tears streaming down his face as he drew a ragged breath. “I’ve never seen so many ethereals, we were overran so quickly…Chief (l/n) and Deputy Chief Kato created a diversion to draw them away so we could get out.”

Kimura looked up with red rimmed eyes.

“I am so sorry.”

Hollow Zero had mutated. Or that was the story they were telling everyone now. The sensors at the outpost had registered a dramatic spike in etheric energy about 30 minutes after Section 2 had infiltrated, and by the next 20 the bangboo that accompanied you had stumbled out with fried circuits, the carrot it followed now expired as the interior of the hollow rearranged. 

It was supposed to be a standard recovery operation. You had done them hundreds of times in the past.

“I’m sorry, Asaba. My hands are tied.” The officer said with a shake of his head. “No one’s allowed in unless they are operating with their faction. You’re the only one from Section 6 here.”

He gripped his bow tighter. “Then I suggest you turn around and pretend you didn’t see me then.” 

It felt like an electric current thrummed under his skin as he breached the Hollow. He didn’t bother to call the proxy or wait for the association to form a new carrot. There was no point, even as desperately as he clinged to the idea of you being unharmed, alive, there was still a rotten crawl of doubt in the back of his mind that made the thought of wandering forever as an ethereal within Hollow Zero a more palatable choice than leaving here without you. 

He didn’t know how long he had wandered through the hollow, hair matted to his forehead from sweat as he cleared another broken wall, trying to survey as much of the warped landscape as he could. He doubled over, hands braced against his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He had overextended himself already, his chest constricted tightly as his breathing became shallow, a sharp ringing in his ears. He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on getting his lungs back under control.

In and out.

In and out.

There was a distant cry that met his ears, strangled and distorted, one that twisted his gut in an iron grip as his head shot up.

You.

He didn’t know what he hoped to find when he fumbled over the rubble in your direction. Finding you was the sole focus of his mind for the past few hours, the rush of adrenaline carrying his mind past rational thought.

You. You. You.

It urged his tired legs forward, kept him standing as he rounded the corner and saw the torn back of your uniform jacket stretched unnaturally over your crumpled form. 

Even with your back to him he would have recognized you anywhere, even as your body contorted unnaturally, muscles spasming wildly as a distorted cry pierced the air. Your hands clawed as the ground, ugly black shards piercing your skin from within, nailbeds black and bloody where your fingertips had rubbed raw in the dirt.

He knew better than to approach you, to roll you to your back as your body seized and writhed in his grasp, more warbled cries piercing the air.

Your eyes were glassy and unfocused as his hands cupped your cheeks. Your skin was hot to the touch, corruption running thickly in your veins and curling out of your skin like ugly black horns. 

He shushed you gently, cradling your head in his arms as your hands tore at his sides, teeth gnashing wildly as the corruption ate away at your humanity before his very eyes. 

“When I turn into an ethereal one day, I want to you promise that you’ll kill me.”

You lifted your head off his chest. “You sure have a strange idea of pillow talk, Haru.”

He snorted, hands tracing down the curve of your spine as you shivered. “Yeah, I know but still…I don’t want to wander in a Hollow forever like some mindless husk. That’s no way to live.”

You bit your cheek, stretching up to peck him on the lips, his hands gently brushing your hair aside as he grinned against your lips.

“Then I trust you to do the same for me.”

He hated himself. He hated that he remembered that conversation you had over a year ago, begging himself to twist the truth, to convince his own mind that you didn’t know the weight of your words. But deep down he knew he couldn’t deny it, deny you, of the peaceful passing he had asked you to offer him. 

This shouldn’t be an issue for him to face. It shouldn’t be you in the throes of corruption, screaming and tearing at him like an animal as your senses fled you body. 

You were supposed to outlive him. The scales of nature were stacked unmistakably in your favor.

Tears wet your cheeks, but they didn’t belong to you. Hot and salty tears poured down his face as his breath stuttered. Everything about this was wrong, like his worst nightmares spawning into a hellish reality as he begged any god that might exist for an easy way out, begged you for forgiveness, for you to answer him with that same gentle smile that was reserved just for quiet moments with him. 

Apologies burned him from the inside out, like venom on his tongue as he peeled your hands off of him and backed away. His hands trembled so violently he could scarcely nock an arrow, his entire body weak. His vision swam, whether it was from the ether corruption that had dinned his hearing or from the tears that didn’t seem to stop he wasn’t sure.

His lip quivered, breathing unsteady as he stared down at you, your form clawing at the earth before pushing shakily onto your knees. You moved more like a marionette than a human, the skin on your neck crumbling under a sheen of black as the core began to manifest. 

Mournful cries dripped from your cyanotic lips as a hand extended in his direction. It was a moment of lucidity, fingers flexing against the veins of corruption under your flesh.

“Haru, I’m so s-sorry.”

The arrow whistled sharply as his fingers released the bowstring.

.

.

.

There was a ring cut to your size. A thin and silver little band that lacked grandiose ornamentation. Diamonds and frills were never your thing after all, he could still see the little quirk in your lips at the memory of your colleagues rushing in with stones so large you thought them better fit for paperweights than proclamations of their belonging to another under the banner of love and marriage. “Practicality above all else,” you had claimed some months ago, thumbing at the simple band around your index finger. Your late mother’s ring.

They both sat on the table on your side of the bed, the metal cold and lifeless under his dull gaze. 

“Asaba, I know this is hard, but there are people who you can talk to. That can help you.” The voice of Yanagi echoed from the answering machine in the hallway. He let his cellphone die weeks ago. 

“We are just worried about you. Please, call me back.”

Your favorite coffee cup still sat beside the pot in the kitchen, the rim stained pink from your favorite lipstick. Your toothbrush still sat in the cup beside his, your shampoo still in the shower. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the bag hanging in the closet, you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise of the dress you bought in excitement at the prospect of going out to dinner after all.

His medicine bottles sat empty in the bathroom trashcan, the contents lost to the sewers of New Eridu by now.

His lungs heaved tiredly, a deep wheeze whistling in the back of his throat. His vision never stopped swimming, even after he carried you out of the Hollow, an arrow embedded between your glossy eyes as your blood stained his clothes.

His thumb pressed the space between your eyebrows, your nose wrinkling, eyes warm as you stared at him from your side of the bed, hair fanned across your cheeks. 

“Haru, it’s not good for you to lay around all the time.” You whispered, leaning into his touch as his hand drifted to cup your cheek, thumb teasing your lower lip before you pressed a kiss to the pad.

 “Get up, you need to eat.”

He knew it wasn’t real, that you weren’t real, but he smiled like you were anyways. Like your lips were warm as you leaned in and brushed them against his, like there was weight behind the pull of your hands as he rolled out of bed for the first time in days.

There was a ring cut to your size, and for a little while longer he would pretend it was nestled on your finger. 

Rey 2024, crossposted to ao3

[cosmowgyral]

A Beast's Drink~ Christmas Special Story

𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒐 & 𝑨𝒛𝒆𝒍

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird.

One winter day, as Christmas was nearing in Benitoite….

Azel: I knew about the Christmas celebrations, but this is so gorgeous and wonderful. It smells like money.

Silvio: Is this okay? A God is celebrating the birth of a God.

Azel: Is that a problem? I always have had faith in you, Prince Silvio.

Silvio: That was not what I was talking ‘bout.

Silvio: Even so…ya still ain’t drinking alcohol.

Azel: I don’t drink alcohol, but I am having juice in a wine glass to show my respect to the God of Wealth.

Azel: Please allow these fine alcohols to be offered to the God of Wealth.

Silvio: We’ve prepared the offerings and everything else.

Silvio: Also, if ya wanna show respect, stop calling me that. That’s downright disrespectful.

Silvio: So, what do ya want?

Azel: What do you mean? 

Silvio: Ya came all the way here at this time of the year. There’s gotta some reason behind it.

Azel: Christmas

Silvio: Huh?

Azel: I came to see the Christmas celebrations.

Azel: It is something that does not happen in my country.

Silvio: Hah, a God himself is inspecting the religious festivities of some other country? It ain’t easy being a living God.

Azel: Oh I am serious.

Azel: In Tanzanite, my birthday celebrations are somewhat similar to the Christmas celebrations here.

Azel: But unfortunately, we do not expect the same amount of commercial benefits as Christmas.

Azel: In that aspect, Benitoite’s Christmas is truly splendid.

Azel: It encourages consumption of cakes, alcohol and other lavish meals, and also stimulates the desire of purchasing things under the pretext of ‘gifts’.

Azel: Especially when it comes to seasonal foods and items. They are the ones of most value as customers always rush to buy them.

Azel: There’s no reason to not have this.

Silvio: You’re the same old greedy bastard.

Azel: And that’s not all.

Silvio: Huh?

Azel: On the surface you’re a billionaire, but on the inside, you’re a kind-hearted man like Santa Clause..

Azel: Seems like this God, who has a philanthropic spirit and abundant wealth, distributes presents to the poor every year.

Silvio: ….....

Azel: You understand what I mean, right?

Silvio: Is this it? A new threat?

Azel: Not at all. It's just a simple request.

Silvio: Sorry, but Santa Claus only gives presents to ‘good kids’.

Silvio: In other words, you aren’t eligible for the distribution.

Silvio: In a lot of ways..

Azel: ………

Azel: That really hurt me. I am a very good and merciful God.

Azel: I don’t think I’ll be able to recover from this unless I receive compensation.

Silvio: Huh? A good person? You?

Silvio: Ya sure know how to use your words. You should quit being a God and become a con-man instead.

Azel: When Prince Silvio says that he wants me to become his personal con-man, it makes my heart waver.

Silvio:  Don’t let it waver. The hell’s a personal con-man anyway?

Azel: He’s like a supreme blessing, always by Prince Silvio’s side, granting him protection, money, and gifts.

Silvio: He seems like a curse.

Azel: Saying God is a curse….is it okay if I demand double the compensation?

Silvio: Sure, by all means.

Azel: I would appreciate a Christmas gift then.

Azel: Good things come from showing your devotion to God. For instance…

Azel: The true identity of Benitoite’s Santa Claus will remain shrouded in mystery forever…

Silvio:  Hah, you’re asking for hush money?

Azel: You are actually having trouble, aren’t you? Some of the kids seem to have noticed.

Azel: I can protect their innocence by wrapping them in dreams. It’s not a bad deal.

Silvio: Ya really are perceptive.

Azel: I have a principle of never missing out on big-money opportunities.

Silvio: Fine. I’ll give ya the gift ya want, so work hard to make up for it, my personal con-man.

Azel: As Prince Silvio wishes.

This is my first translation of a full story so there might be mistakes here and there.

I hope you guys enjoyed reading and re-blogs are appreciated! ♡

Video credits: @otomehoneyybearr

[vengefultakeover]

Daemon: Surprise Guest (3)

NOTE: This is the newest edited version of this story

I let my eyes drift open after having spent the entire night with Max. The now open windows let in a much light as possible now that Max was inside a body. Safe to bask in the beams. I found him standing out in the living room, looking out at Crystal Cove and wearing nothing but a tight pair of underwear. I sit down on the sofa and admire him while he enjoys the warmth.

Eventually, he joins me, slipping his hand over my thigh while getting comfortable on the coffee table, "I'm really starting to enjoy being human." He leans his head on a hand, eyes glowing a beautiful green.

"Starting to?" I chuckled.

"You know what I mean." He leans into me, pushing be back onto the cushion in the same positions we were in the night before. We kiss as my hands slide along his abs and then around his waist, pulling him closer to eliminate the space between us.

"What?" I ask as he pulls away.

"I think I should find a permanent body." He pushed his bulge against mine, looking at me as his eyes return to the normal color.

"Permanent?" I scrunch my face slightly, we were having so much fun hopping from body to body.

"I think I want to create an identity now that I'm free from the island. You know? Not just Max, but like Max the human. Someone you want me to be if you wanted - I owe you so much for helping me survive. You have no idea what you've done for me." He pushed his head onto my shoulder and I felt him breathing, his heart pounding in his chest. Was he nervous?

"Really?" I was blushing. "Well, if it's going to be someone new, I think we should really consider who it should be. But I shouldn't be the one who picks. You should decide what your future is." I push my hand through his hair and we cuddled there, staring at each other.

"When I was back on the island, there were a lot of snobby college kids who thought they were better than the rest because they came from money. The one's who were specially invited were just part of Mondavarious' plan to accumulate power and wealth. I guess technically it was Scrappy, but that's the past. I'm here with you, now, and I'm loving every second of it. I feel more free than I ever have."

"What did I do?" I shrugged.

"You were kind to me." He responded.

We were listening to each other's heartbeat when there was a knock at the door, one that sounded pretty aggressive. I slid out from underneath Max and ran to look through the keyhole. The man on the other side was handsome in a blue varsity jacket. I could have sword I had seen him before, but I couldn't put my finger on it. He looked gruff, and something about him made my cock stir.

Max came up behind me, grabbing my waist and taking a look through the peephole. His face dropped and his eyes flashed green before he calmed down and they became Alex's brown. I was confused, but I played along when he pushed me behind the door and opened it, keeping me out of sight.

"Hey, man, I got a call from one of your neighbors about seeing a creature lurking outside the building? It's tall, purple-ish skin, have you seen anything like it?" The man's voice was so familiar that I realized who it was and why Max was afraid. It was Fred Jones.

"Nah, man, just the normal stuff around here. I go running often and I think I would have seen something like that." He flexed his pecs, taking on the personality of Alex which was actually really hot to witness. Max was playing it off, even laughing the way my asshole neighbor used to when he thought he said something slick.

"Alright," Fred sighed, "take my card, if you see anything please don't hesitate. I'm Fred Jones from the Jones detective agency."

"I know who you are."

"You do?" Fred squinted.

"Yeah, I have a TV. I remember you from back in the day. What was it, Mystery Company or something?"

"Mystery Incorporated," Fred rolled his eyes, "please let me know if you see anything weird."

"Will do." Max started to close the door, but was suddenly stopped by Fred's shoe.

"Hey, do you mind if I come in for a drink of water? I've been chatting with all the neighbors and I am parched." He started to walk inside, but Max immediately extended his arm and held the door to prevent Fred from entering.

"Hey, bro, you can't just do that." Max pushed him back and as he stumbled back Fred caught my eyes peering through the hinges. Fuck.

"No worries." Fred dusted himself off and readjusted himself before walking towards the stairs. As Max closed the door, I rushed over to the window and looked down at the parking lot. Sure enough, the mystery machine was parked in the lot with its faded paint. Fred appeared from the entrance and had his phone up to his ear.

"Yeah, I think it's here. There was something weird about this one apartment," he leaned against the van, "no, I'm not - listen with the Daemon Ritus gone and this creature wreaking havoc doing who knows what we have no idea what is actually happening. Anything that solves the mystery, right?" He looked up at our window and I threw myself backwards to avoid being caught. Max was there to catch me in his arms.

"Thank you." I said with a smile. I dusted myself off.

"I'm sorry. I think I may have caused some trouble." Max had this apologetic look on his face that was super cute.

"No need to apologize. I know you said you wanted something more permanent, but I think we might need to get you a new temporary skin." I said, going to the kitchen and pulling out the jar. There was now a couple layers of tape around the lid for extra security. We were going to need to find a new body, but this time we were going to have find them.

We enjoyed ourselves as we got dressed for a night out in Crystal Cove, putting on our best club attire. Max's body had a closet filled with clothing meant to show off his sexy body and I had thrown something together from my own closet, making sure to leave the top buttons undone to show a little bit of my chest.

"You look nice," Max said, unbuttoning another button to show a little bit more and sliding a finger inside the shirt, "now let's go have some fun."

The music was loud and I involuntarily nodded my head as we walked in together. I had been here before, one of my favorite local hangouts with a wild history. The back parts of the building was a local mine shaft that had closed down and eventually the city sold it after some drama with the buyers and it became Crystal Cove's hottest spot for the gay scene. I like coming in during brunch for the drag shows.

"Can I get a gin and tonic. He'll have a - " I looked over at Max who was already dancing in spot, " - two gin and tonics plus a tequila shot. That's for me."

"You brought a friend tonight?" Mel was a very talented bartender and they tossed the glasses and bottles around like it was nothing. They quickly poured the tonics and then dressed the shot glass, covering the rim in salt before pushing the lime slice onto the glass. I passed Max's drink to him and then slid my card to the Mel.

"On the house. I'm glad you're seeing someone." They winked at me and then walked over to help another club goer. Max bounced from side to side before chugging the drink I have him. I took the shot, trying to save face, and when I looked back at Max he was making a face at the glass.

"What is this? It's disgusting." He put the glass on the bar top.

"I forget you're new to alcohol." I chugged my own drink and just as I put the glass back on the bar Max took my hand and spun me out onto the dance floor. He pulled me into him as we started grinding on each other with the bass bumping around and odd looks abound as this hunk danced with this tall chub. His hands moved into my waistband and I could feel his finger pushing against my ass as I pulled at his back, my fingers getting knotted in his fishnet shirt.

We were still looking for a new body, but we took the time to enjoy each other until we both saw someone watching up. He was sipping from a thin black straw at a booth at the edge of the building. He smirked when we both looked over, a signal. Max went over first, he was, after all, controlling that sexy body. I reached inside my cross body bag and pulled out the covered jar containing Alex and waited for Max to give me the signal.

"He wants both of us." Max came back and whispered in my ear with a grin, took my hand, and brought me back to the stranger. I was in awe as the stranger took us into the back, the cave and all of its mine shafts were still lit and was now used as a hook up spot. The man spun to face up when we reached a corner, pulling me into a kiss. I was taken by surprise, but his lips were so soft and I eventually started easing my hand around his waist. Max slid his hand around our waists and then the stranger kissed him. I took a moment to grasp the jar in my bag and then felt it slip into the dirt below. I used this as an excuse to start unbuttoning the strangers pants.

"Oh, fuck yeah." He said, pushing his groin out obnoxiously as Max continued to make out. Max stepped away for a second and let me take the lead. He took the jar and disappeared into a dark corner to open it. When the stranger went to look, I swallowed his cock and he closed his eyes to moan and enjoy the feeling of my wet mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Max's convulsing body as he swallowed the protoplasm. The stranger was now too preoccupied, shoving my head onto his cock until I was choking, to notice the monster appearing from my neighbors chest. Before he could scream, Max let out a deep breath of green smoke and laid Alex's incapacitated body in comfortable position. I could feel the stranger's cock throbbing as I forced his cock farther down my throat, pre dripping inside of me. I continued to suck even when Max pinned him against the wall, ripping his shirt open and shoving his claws deep into his chest to rip out his protoplasm. He pushed it into the taped up jar and held up his body as he continued to throb in my mouth. After tightening the lid, he pushed himself inside the stranger as his cock continued leaking inside my mouth.

I was finally able to come up for air, stroking his hard cock as Max slid inside his new husk. His cock pulsed in a strange way once I saw the creature's feet lift off the ground and dissipate inside the stranger. His eyes opened and they were the bright green I was getting used to seeing. His leaking cock suddenly exploded as Max stole the climax and moaned out in bliss.

"Let's get out of here." I said, wiping my mouth. Max pulled himself together while I checked on Alex, hoping he would wake up and assume it was a wild night and cough it up to drunken stupor. We headed to the stranger's place, our old apartment no longer a safe haven due to Fred's investigation.

Fred tossed his phone into the van and jumped into the driver's seat. He pushed the back of his seat all the way down and stared at the peeling fabric on the roof of the vehicle. With an eye roll he dozed off and waited for night to come.

The sky was dark when he opened his eyes and the street was quiet except for the occasional drunkard or Uber driver completing their final trips for the night. Fred reached over and grabbed his bag of tools, pushing it onto his shoulders and then stepping out of the van to look up at my apartment complex. Lock picking came easy to him now that he had done it so many times, a skill he learned on the road to compensate for the fact that people thought he was just the dumb himbo face of Mystery Inc.

The door clicked open and he closed it to make sure no one would witness him breaking and entering. With a flashlight, he opened drawers and cabinets, making sure to put everything back in its spot. The search was fruitless, the Daemon Ritus was no where to be found and Fre had no idea where me might get his next lead until he saw the sketchbook left behind by the occupants. He flipped through the pages and tore out the rough sketch I had drawn to help Max communicate. This was his next clue and now Fred knew that this purple daemon had an accomplice.

[candiedspit]

THERE SHE WAS, PARADISE

Could go for a cup of coffee about now.

That was Spritzer; that old, foul mouth. Always at the end of his gun. Made of tuna cans and gold enamel. Smelling of black cigars and camel dung. That would make sense. A stake through his heart. The surfer collapsing beneath what he dared to ride. The whole thing. It was cold. We were out in Queens smoking blues and waiting for his cellular to light up. Waiting for the stocks to awaken. Bill was our friend and when Bill called we were going to follow his voice to Jerusalem and cash in our winnings.

It was Christmas Eve and Spritzer was the only thing I had.

This was life after hallucinating pink ducks in the motel off the freeway and this was life after grey goose romance and call girl valentines.

Fucking freezing, Spritzer said, blowing breath into his hands.

I always laughed when he did this. Imagined him to be a side of the road magician blowing crack smoke at kids birthday parties. After a while, the phone rang. It was Bill. We rode the J train back into Brooklyn where minimum wage men had strung up garlands of pretty blue lights from one end of the street to the next so that the streets, covered in a slush, reflected the manufactured twinkles. A baby blue twilight. As we went, Spritzer whistled an old showtune. As we passed skinny naked trees and all of the supermarkets closed and the only souls outside were the ones like ours, bastards who couldn’t wrap a thing, who shouted and ruined, who destroyed.

Ain’t known Bill was rich, Spritzer said as we approached Bill’s building.

He punched random buttons on the intercom. There was a buzz. We cramped into the elevator and whooshed to the third floor where Bill apparently lived.

There was Bill and the swinging monkeys. Bill hosted the meeting we went to, had founded our love club, the club you only got into when you’ve gone coma, when you’ve burned down the damn house except your the only thing living inside, when you can’t be coaxed inside in the middle of a cold snap and when you have nowhere else to go.

Absolutely nowhere.

Tatiana was poking through the records and Robert poured me a club soda and French handed me a small box.

No, I said. No, please. Don’t give me nothing.

I was new to the club, only six months. Spritzer had three years on me. But I had been lost a long time. I hadn’t been allowed to see my family for fourteen months at that point though I saw Juliana in my dreams almost every night. I imagined her playing the trombone and hating every second. How badly I wanted to hear the twisted music. I wanted to be the mouth piece. But I had hope. The hope had led me to Bill.

I opened the box and almost began to weep.

Whadya get? Spritzer asked. I got a rubber duck keychain.

I showed him, holding the thing in my palm.

Real nice, he said. His hand found my shoulder and stayed there.

Real nice, Rabbit.

[randomfoggytiger]

"At Least Until the Weather Breaks"

A very Merry Christmas to you, @cecilysass: hope this piece grants you a fraction of the joy your work has endlessly given me~.

*-*-*-*-*

Post Agua Mala reflections.

*-*-*-*-*

“Agent Scully, where are you?” 

Perhaps Skinner would be surprised. He had been, mere days ago, when she and Mulder showed up outside of Kersh’s office, unity shed like snake skin. He'd been doubly surprised, she knew, when Mulder guided her out later, hand once again possessively at her back. She wasn't going to explain to Skinner then-- as she walked away, a hair from her partner’s shoulder-- why she relented. Why she had deflected Kersh in Mulder’s defense-- “Sir, I wouldn’t bet against him”, with snarling control-- and left both outsiders to stew and wonder in her wake. 

And she wouldn’t now. The stretch in her partnership was no longer taut, but the vibration still rang. Spender’s son was dead, but both X-Files inmates still imagined a rivulet of his blood drip, dripping under Mulder’s reclaimed desk. Arguments were shelved, weapons set aside, and peace wordlessly reestablished before they’d left Kersh’s office. Ease was repairing itself in the mindless act of feeling each other’s presence as they packed and toted and unpacked mementos of their past in unison. They trusted, once again, to the process of symbiosis, turning from fiery conspiracy to watery mystery as unto salvation.  

“In Florida, Sir.” 

“In Florida? Wasn’t there a record hurricane down there?” An expected pause. “Is Mulder down there with you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Another pause. A long sigh: Skinner unable to discern them. “As soon as the skies clear, I need you and Agent Mulder on a plane and back in D.C. We have a meeting scheduled to discuss both your transfers.” 

A mere formality, everyone knew, for the Board’s pride. “I’ll let him know, Sir.” 

Scully ended the call, and was about to walk away from the burning Floridian sun when her cellphone rang. 

Leroy Walter Villarreal Suarez Jr. 

No kidding.

*-*-*-*-*

It was surprising, she owned: Mulder with flat bangs, Mulder with pater glasses. Mulder smoking. 

“Ah, everyone did it then,” Dales waved, warm and chiding. Never a thought in his soggy, besotted brain that she, too, had a naughty vice once. “What surprised me most was the ring. Everyone smoked, everyone had cheap haircuts-- everyone wore rings even. But I’d never met a guy who wore one for fun. Have you, Agent Scully?”

“Mm,” she replied, lips curling around a plastic cup Dales must have bought in bulk. Her partner with a ring. Her partner, gunshy of a normal life, aping a veneer of normalcy. Because that’s what he’d been doing, she was positive:  one look at his face now-- eyes darting, shoulders scrunching, lips pouting in mock distraction-- let her know that that act, whatever it had been, had been for himself. 

Diana Fowley, Scully winced, had watched him mime this normalcy and still left to climb the ladder. She’d smoothed his flat bangs and wiped away the lipstick on his trusting cheek and left to destroy the sameness of other women’s lives. 

Yet, here it is again, this large and fathomless thing between us: the root of Skinner’s puzzlement, the unconscious understanding and trust-- she shoved reliance quickly away-- that flowed too forgivingly between them. An unfathomable thing that clouded over when their ideals and faults clashed: her partner underestimating her abilities, she underestimating his loyalties. 

How could I forget, Scully had wondered as Mulder droned from her voicemail, “Hey, Scully, just got a call from Arthur Dales-- he says there’s a sea monster that’s just blown into Florida. If we catch the last flight tonight, we might be able to touch down before the state’s under water.” How could she forget that he’d always fought her on her instincts? On her own deathbed, when the cancer was destroying her from the inside out, he’d been right about Skinner; he’d been right about many, many more things than Skinner. But he’d been wrong about Diana; and she’d been wrong about wedging the Gunmen in her confrontation. They’d both been wrong, and right, and simultaneously right and wrong before; but not on the day the world almost ended. And, though there were still eight boxes to be unpacked, important reports to be typed up, churlish review boards to prepare for, Dana Scully had lifted her phone from its jack and called him back. “Mulder, a hurricane?”-- Mulder, I’m in. “Scully, a sea monster”-- Scully, like old times, old roads: we find the sea monster, we find each other. 

“Well… that’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Dales,” Mulder argued, fidgeting on the couch, trying to find a comfortable spot on this mummified-turned-humidified, Floridian-ified cloth bag. 

“Oh? You know another guy?” 

“My mother.” 

“Oh.” That must have made sense. “She raised hoity toity?”

“I was.” 

The crash of realization was so quick and so visceral that it struck her clammy skin like lightning: the son of broken, reclusive Mrs. Mulder, reconstructing his memories and muddying them with her excuses. His mother keenly avoiding the past; Mulder bending over backwards to appease and soothe before snapping upright and demanding the truth. Mulder wearing an older man’s glasses and taking up an older generation's quest and smoking his father’s cigarettes-- leaving off the nasty habit before Scully’s time, substituting with his father’s charm against nightmares. Her partner, clinging to the past while trying to find where he belonged.

These thoughts should depress; but they didn’t-- couldn’t, after she’d clung to Mulder’s hand in the torrent, tracked a sea monster by his side, and brought a new life into this large and complicated, small and simple world. Not after he’d given up quibbling over her victories. 

“’Hoity toity’?” she repeated instead, waiting expectantly for him to turn around and smile over the absurdity of their reality. 

*-*-*-*-*

“So, we drivin’ home?” 

They were situating in their storm-damaged rental, Dales’s head and arm swaying heartily from their rearview mirrors whenever he deemed appropriate. He’d asked if they'd wanted to keep a plastic cup each-- a noblesse oblige memento of the trailer park, Scully assumed. They’d both declined.

Mulder was not in the passenger seat, despite the wounds peppering his neck: dressing pulled up to his jaw, he’d chosen to obstinately pretend nothing was amiss. Not wanting to come down from the high of their experience, it was in his best interest-- the profound clench of his teeth telegraphed-- to ignore present uncomfortable reality.  

“If the wind kicks up, we could borrow an umbrella and fly back to the office.” She suppressed a smile at her partner’s chuckle, a delight still freshly cloaked in relief. 

“We’d have investigated her if she existed. You know that, Scully.” 

She did-- could imagine a chilly trip to England, Mulder reveling in the charm of ancient, storied folktale and superstition. Mutually exploring a turf that was no longer his. Oxford rising from the poetic fog, his college memories beating her childhood glimpses. He was so American she often forgot that he, too, traveled across the ocean. 

“I read the books when I was a child.” 

“Books?”

“Mm hm. A series,” she admitted, eager to share something from her past. Perhaps from heatstroke, perhaps to bolster the burgeoning camaraderie. 

Though why this memory she didn’t know: the tail end of one summer spent cooped up inside, Charlie coughing up a lung in the other room as her temperature stayed stubbornly high. Melissa, sick of calling her a big baby, convincing Bill to leave his friends to grab Dana a book from the library “so she’ll stop whining”. Her oldest brother spending the next two weeks biking back and forth as the book bug slowly infected the convalescents. Their fights, their frustration; their relief on returning to school.  

“I read the series religiously one year. Memorized whole passages by heart and recited them every opportunity I could.” Scully watched his head bob vaguely while he checked the gas and turned to reverse. “I was trying to prove a point, I suppose: my family loved the movie, and. And I wanted to… stand out.” Dana, you’re such a square. Dana, you’re such a pill. Dana, why won't you just admit you like it? 

“Stand out?” His eyes were curious, darting her way whenever the road could spare them. 

“Mm.” Was elaboration necessary, between them? She didn’t think so. Not for another while, anyway. “But when I went off to college, things changed. Everything was so new and so different…. It was isolating, in a way. It drove me back to the past.” 

Silence permeated as clumps of wrecked and ruined trees swept by. She needed to start calling local motels to see if there were rooms open. She needed to call her mom. She needed to turn off her phone and sleep until life no longer fuzzed at the edges. 

“What did you do?” Mulder prodded, wistfully. 

“Well….” Scully sighed, retracing the weave of her thoughts. “I bummed a ride to the local video store and rented it, over and over, when things got too lonely. That’s how I made it the first two years.” 

He said nothing, just slowly nodded as they changed lanes. 

*-*-*-*-*

There was nothing but time, now, to reflect-- something she'd purposefully avoided since that sordid night in the Gunmen's lair. Everything then was too muddled, too raw and dangerously close, to think about, let alone understand. But the lull of conversation, the empty silence between phone calls, the endless stretch of waterlogged, abandoned roads yawned and stretched and plucked an abandoned thought from her unconscious without notice.

She’d led the way to Kersh's door, stayed a half step always in front of her partner, pursed her lips at Skinner’s greeting, hedged determinedly away from Mulder’s closeness. A contrast to their ally ship the previous night: her eyes peering ahead, searching the dark for signs of life; his eyes glued to the crushed car she’d driven across the train tracks-- a striking contrast (she shotgun, he side-saddle) to their rote partnership. Smoke and ashes and the corpses of deceiving families looming over their heads like a conscience. Skinner hadn’t expected the battle to extend to their relationship; and she’d walked expeditiously away from his questioning eyes, guiding them both to Kersh's desk with brittle dignity. 

Neither had spoken to each other while A.D. Kersh spit and A.D. Kersh swore and Jeffrey Spender resigned and left them the X-Files. Perched in a getaway corner of the room, Skinner had missed their wordless exchange, the psychic transference they were capable of since that first fateful day in Mulder’s office: his softened stutter, a sorrowful admission of guilt; her twitching eyebrow and slackened mouth, an acknowledgement of his admission. Fault confessed, the breadth of temptation and cowardice became irrelevant in the weight of charred bodies and grave missteps.

It was easier, and harder, to shove it behind them. Eyes followed their backs out and into the hall, down the elevator, and down, down, down into another layer of chaos and death: the body of Jeffrey Spender, expendable in the face of yet another father's disappointment.

At least Bill Mulder had begged, "Forgive me," when he robbed his son of the ultimate truth.

*-*-*-*-*

“Are you still in Florida, Agent Scully?” 

That, or a broiling, humid Twilight Zone. 

They’d been advised off the road by another no-nonsense uniform; and, escape impossible, had panhandled around for a room at the inn. The ones available were of middling quality (save a truly deplorable toilet that was decorated, Pollock-style, with human fluids), but it was better than Mulder’s suggestion to pull off and catch some shuteye in a parking lot. That was too local for her tastes. 

“Yes, Sir-- for another eight hours or so. Agent Mulder has hope that the planes will be up and running by then.” 

“So soon?”

“It is Florida, Sir.” 

Her partner was seated on his single bed, half-listening while madly typing up notes. He looked up, once, before losing interest, deciding instead to abuse the backspace key with a vengeance. 

There was a parallel, she believed, that could be drawn from a neck-deep metaphor and his tender tentacle wounds. As if in sync with her thoughts, he fingered one absently; and winced. 

“Keep in touch, Agent.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Disconnecting the line, Scully debated whether to grab breakfast from a vending machine or sink, exhausted, onto her bed and never get up. The room’s smell-- a clash of coastal mist and dead algae, death and stymied life-- decided her: another second here and she’d have to think about mold. “I’m going to grab some food.” 

Mulder looked up, fingers stilled, hungry hope brewing in his eyes. “Change’s in my wallet.” How they even had wallets after the last twenty-four hours, Scully couldn’t venture a guess. Then again, their odds had been remarkably high lately. 

About time.

“I’m buying.” She was halfway out the door, shoes scrubbing against old, fuzzy carpet fibers, before his voice stopped her. 

“Scully. Thanks.” 

It was such a small gesture-- one that shouldn’t have moved her as much as it did. But Scully’s eyes stung, and her hands trembled as they tightened on the door knob. Tucking her head, she swallowed back a shaky breath; and, turning, swept her eyes around the room, once, for composure. “We slew the monster, Mulder.” 

He slowly smiled; slowly blinked; slowly seemed to take her in from head to toe. Slowly nodded. 

Giving a tight smile in return, Scully added, “I’ll be back,” before closing the door gently behind her. 

*-*-*-*-*

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic, @poangpals.

[canisbrutus]

Hey I really like your headcanons !!! What’s your view on the main three’s relationship with each other?

why thank ya, color me flattered lol. let me see.. this will be Long

Gary & Jimmy 🐍🐕

tragic doomed toxic yaoi etc etc

ultimately they're two sides of the same coin, opposite eachother in a way. both are simultaneously victims and perpetrators, though they differ in motive and response

while jimmy might be too daft to realize, gary knows this and absolutely hates it.

like a fine mix of admiration jealousy and spite

jimmy meanwhile is just fed up his bullshit

but at the same time he doesnt *hate* him.

jimmy doesnt really hate anyone tbh hes just easily pissed off

after the betrayal jimmy is annoyed at best and personally hurt at worst. but he can shrug it off with ease. he doesnt hold grudges

which is yet another thing that drives gary nuts

before the betrayal though. jimmy made gary feel Weird. jimmy's too genuine. too upfront. too honest. Too Real.

he took their friendship seriously. very very few people willingly stood beside gary, minus petey who we'll get to later

and that made him ? scared. confused even. absolutely nobody could be equal with him. even if he liked their relationship

anyway. this vvv

Petey & Gary 🐇🐍

petey primarily hung around gary because he was familiar and it was better than being alone, yes.

but also, these two go back a fair ways. like elementary.

as such, petey knows more about gary than he would like him to.

gary has been through a Lot. he's also Lost a Lot.

petey is one of the few 'things' he has left that really means anything to him.

or. he was, anyway. before the betrayal

shortly after the fight in the pit he got in an argument with gary. cut him deep where it hurts. mentioned something he maybe shouldnt have.

got beaten bloody and thrown away. and gary devolved from there.

despite this petey doesnt really hold it against him either

there's some guilt to him. perhaps a bit of self loathing.

but he couldnt approach gary on his own. his nerves were too shot.

sure gary threw his friend jimmy to russell. and sure gary's been picking on him for years at this point. but to beat the shit out of him, his best friend, after he's stayed with him for just about a decade?

he couldnt trust him again

he hardly trusted him to begin with honestly, gary had been beating him down and making sure he knew whatever prior cuts he made at him didnt hurt in the slightest before.

thankfully jimmy isnt as sensitive as he is.

~~~~~

Jimmy & Petey 🐕🐇

poor kids. two peas in a pod thrown under the bus

petey may have been apprehensive of jimmy at first, due to his general attitude and knack for mayhem.

but as time passed jimmy showed his true colors and proved to be a Good person (if prone to manipulation)

it wasnt long before petey started to trust him more than gary. and after the betrayal, jimmy was all he really had.

(admittedly he did try to join the nerds but earnest called him a faggot and said no)

petey isnt meek. he isn't soft. his venom is often dwarfed by everyone else's, but he still holds a rage. even if he keeps it inside. part of him did want to get back at gary. but another part still felt concern for his old friend spiraling like mad. even moreso considering he pushed him the way he did, with that argument mentioned.

im saying this ^ bc he felt an obligation to advise jimmy on what to do, especially regarding gary. hoping he could get him calmed tf down so they could go back to normal, as friends, again.

but they werent particularly close. kinda like business partners. jimmy blowing him off half the time didnt help matters.

but again. petey didnt have anyone else.

just a poor guy caught in the middle of their homoerotic rivalry

~~~~~

i have so many lores for these stupid cunts.

anyway reminder that my inbox is open for requests in general. woof

[fuctacles]

Dude, That's My Ghost!

A @steddieexchange fic for @hellfireloserclub !! I hope you like it. The whole first chapter is up on Ao3.

E | ~9k | no cw | Soulmates AU, Supernatural Elements, Magical Bonds, Ghost Sex, No UD, Magical Bonds | more tags on Ao3! | beta read by @blasvemous <3

Disappearing Act

The Universe is an amazing creation. In its vastness, it gives you a Soulmate, so you don't feel alone despite your brief and meaningless existence. It may not be perfect, but it's thoughtful, and that's more than you can say about its inhabitants.

And yet, in this benevolent Universe, there is Steve Harrington.

"Ah."

He's standing in front of a guy, their hands outstretched and bare, their Soul-marks visible. At least what's left of them. 

Steve watches in horror as the swarm of bats moves around his skin in panic, vanishing one by one as if sucked into his body. They've been with him for years and now they're just... gone.

When he looks up at the man he's just met, the nail bat on his forearm has vanished as well. He looks more surprised than terrified, though, twisting his arm curiously.

"Well..." He purses his lips. "I'm sorry, mate." He shrugs. "It was nice meeting you."

And before Steve can grab him, or collect himself at all, the man disappears into the crowd. He doesn't feel anymore the tether that helped him find the man in the first place. It's all gone. The Soul-mark, the connection, his Soulmate. Who was clearly right in front of him just a minute ago.

What the fuck had just happened?

Nobody has an answer for him. As far as he knows, it has never happened before, ever. Steve Harrington must be just a special kind of fucked up, hated by the universe. Destined to be unloved. Even though for a brief moment, he wasn't. For a second, he felt whole, with his Soulmate right in front of him, within reach of his hand, but as soon as their palms touched... it disappeared.

There are people without them, but no one whose mark would vanish, like a candy yanked out of a kid's hand. And every day Steve wonders, why him? In a world where everyone was leaving him, where having someone tied to him was his only hope, the only chance for love, why him?

He had left that music festival, where he met the man supposedly destined for him, right after, to grieve his loss in the solitude of his apartment. It felt like a piece of his soul had been torn out and something inside him ached, open and bleeding, with no way to patch it up.

The taped boxes of Robin's stuff were like an additional kick in the gut. She was leaving him soon too, off to live with her soulmate, which she gets to have. He loves it for her, of course he does, but it was easier to do knowing there was someone out there for him as well.

To not think about it, he finally focused on what he's been putting away ever since Robin said she was moving in with Vickie. Looking for a new place, a one-person apartment for himself, and nobody else. It takes over a month, but when he finds it, he finds it. He knows it's the place he wants to call home.

It's shit. 

A small apartment carved from an unused attic space, perfect for a desperate single student. The bathroom barely fits a shower and a toilet and doesn't have any space left for a sink. He has to wash his hands in the kitchen, or the space that he's supposed to call one. It's a little far from college but in a pinch, he could cash in on Robin's promise that he's always welcome at her new place, which is just a short walk away from their school.

It's perfect.

Even if Robin asks him once if he's punishing himself for something that's not his fault, like a really weird interpretation of a martyr. But he just opens his tiny window and lets her listen to the birds from the park below. All she can hear from her windows are the honking cars and yells of the students trying to get the best parking spot. And that's a point for the 'you rule' column as far as he's concerned.

The place has one more perk she doesn't know of and he's not sure which column it would classify in.

Because he's sharing it with a ghost.

It's almost alarming how quickly he accepts it. One day he's listening to music to unwind, and the next he finds a note on his desk telling him his taste in music is shit.

"Hello?" he asks to the room as a whole. Nobody could hide there. There simply wasn't enough space.

His eyes widen when his pen moves.

You won't see me, it writes. Can you play a rock station?

Steve only blinks.

"Uh, sure," he says, staring at the pen. "Do you know the frequency?"

He gets a few numbers in response and reaches for the dials of the radio to set it up. Soon, a song he doesn't recognize fills out the cramped space.

"This okay?"

Yes. Thank you so much.

Thoughtfully, Steve pulls out a notebook and opens it on a blank page.

"Are you a ghost?" he asks, staring at the faint blue lines.

What's a ghost, Steve? appears the message, slightly crooked despite the clear guidelines. The handwriting somehow fits the vibe of the music playing from the radio. 

"How do you know my name?" he frowns at the words.

It's all over your books?

"Fair," Steve huffs, sitting heavily by his desk. "I don't know, a dead person?" he answers the previous question.

Well, I didn't die. So. Not a ghost I guess.

"Then what?"

What's left when your body is taken away from you?

Steve's frown deepens. What is this, an impromptu quiz test?

"Uh, a soul?"

Then that's what I am, probably.

"So where's your body?" Steve asks, perplexed.

Some asshole demon took it.

"A demon?" he asks flatly, raising his eyebrows.

You're talking to a floating pen and the demon is what's unbelievable?

"Well, I'm sorry I'd rather not believe demons exist!" Steve scoffs, throwing his arms up.

Sorry to break it to you buddy but they do. And I've learned it the hard way.

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmurs.

Don't be sassy with me, I'll break all your mugs.

"We're not summoning a demon."

"Okay, sheesh. No need for violence." Steve rolls his eyes. "So, what happened?"

"We're not summoning a demon because they don't exist," Jeff elaborates.

"How about some make-believe, hm?" Eddie puts his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed in his bandmates. "A bonding activity to boost morale?"

"You know what would boost morale?" Gareth points his drumstick at him. "Band practice."

"Fine!" Eddie throws his hands in the air. "I'll do it myself, but don't cry later when I'll be the only one blessed by the metal gods!"

"We won't," Doug assures him dryly.

"So it's gods or demons after all? Can't pick a side?"

Eddie flips them off with both hands before grabbing his guitar. He knows they are right, though. Only practice and improvement can give them a chance at the next battle of the bands. They were already so close to winning this year and were slowly becoming recognizable in the city. Getting there was slow but reachable, which was not how Eddie usually does things.

That's why, even if it's just for the peace of his own mind, a spiritual placebo, if you will, he grabs himself a beer and pulls out his D&D notes. He did way too much research on demons for his last campaign not to have some fun with it.

The instructions are cheesy, but it's exactly what he needs—something in good fun and on theme, even if it was supposed to be a group activity. He copies all the symbols, and chants, and draws blood. With his eyes squeezed shut, he makes his wish.

"Whoever is listening, help my band make it big."

The old wooden beams creak with their age. Nothing happens.

He opens his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and realizes he's relieved. Summoning an infernal being to his little attic apartment didn't sound as thrilling as he had been selling to his friends earlier that day. To be honest, he just wanted to do some weird metal shit with his band that they could later talk about in interviews. "We sold our souls for this album," would be a bonkers headline for the front page.

"That can be arranged."

Eddie shrieks.

He grabs tighter the knife he's still holding from his blood sacrifice and turns around. There on his bed, criss-crossed and relaxed, sits a creature of nightmares.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie's voice doesn't sound as deep and intimidating as he'd like it to.

"You summoned me," the intruder deadpans.

"Oh. Oh, right." It doesn't make him any less terrified. "Uh, what do you want?" he stammers, hoping to get the demon out of his space as soon as possible. He wants to call the boys, would love to hear Gareth's annoying voice right about now, actually.

"For your wish? I want in."

Eddie frowns.

"In?"

And then I held up my guitar and told him to hop in but he hopped into my body instead and here we are.

"You ever heard of a cursed instrument?"

Steve stares at the string of words. And stares. And stares.

I know I'm stupid you don't have to tell me.

"Oh thank god, because I didn't want to make you feel even worse."

He looks around the place and slowly points at the bed.

"So, that demon, was sitting on the same bed I slept in last night?'

Not on these covers, obviously, but yes.

"Holy shit." Steve feels himself shudder with cold dread. He knows all of this might be a lie, since there is no way for him to fact-check it, but the idea is disturbing enough. "And the summoning circle?" He looks down at the floorboards below his socked feet.

It was about here, but I guess the bastard cleaned it. Took all my shit with him too.

"So he's just living your life now?"

I'd guess so.

"Have you looked for him?"

Buddy the first thing I remember since then is waking up to you moving in

Steve frowns.

"What?"

Shit. What year is it?

"1986," he answers, his frown deepening.

Thank gods. Summer?

"September. The new semester just started. What the fuck, man, when did this happen?"

Spring break. Just a few months ago, apparently.

"That's half a year!" Steve points out. "And you were what, just, unconscious this whole time?"

Yeah. Maybe you helped, I don't know. Was someone else living here?

He shakes his head.

"I was told the previous tenant left without a word and they haven't even noticed at first."

Can't imagine a demon knowing the intricacies of renting an apartment.

It's normal for about two days, as far as living with a ghost can be. But it all spirals one night when Steve feels something touch him when he's trying to fall asleep.

Wait. What about my deposit?!

He jerks back in alarm and pulls back the covers but sees no stray items left there. Takes another look around, checking if something fell from the mattress, but sees nothing. He settles down against his pillow.

"Eddie?" he asks quietly.

He almost faints when the radio cracks to life. The dials switch and rotate and through the white noise of static, come bits of songs and voices until one breaks through.

"...what?..."

"This isn't happening..." Steve mutters to himself, eyes wide. "You could talk this whole time?!"

"...had no idea...you just...annoy me so much...had to speak up..."

"What the fuck, man?!"

"...let me sleep..."

"You sleep?!" He's fully awake now himself. "Why? What for?"

"...maybe you...drain my energy...with George Michael..."

"Fuck away from George Michael!" his voice cracks, now on the edge of hysterics.

"...you fuck away...was here first..."

"Yeah, and you fucked it up!"

Right after he says it, something falls on his chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"...low blow Steve..."

Steve blinks at the nothingness around him. On top of him. He feels no weight, no touch, but something isn't letting him move. His confused senses make his brain overheat.

"You can touch me?"

He feels the sting of a slap on his cheek, but he's too confused to feel pain.

"Ow?" is all he manages to say.

"...yup..."

The thing on top of him shifts, now off his chest but pinning him from the waist down, like someone is straddling him. He reaches up with his hands, searching for an invisible person.

"...don't...it feels wrong..."

"Sorry." He retracts his hand. Blinking rapidly as if it could give him an insight to the soul realm, he searches for any sign of thighs splayed over his body. "This is weird."

"...no shit..."

His palm, still raised, feels something soft and tingly, and his fingers spread like someone is slotting theirs in between. Steve feels something tighten in his chest, a longing he's been trying to bury deep inside.

"...can we...go back to sleep?..."

Steve lets out a short, surprised laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I don't think I've ever felt more awake than right now." Then, he frowns. "Have you been sleeping with me all this time?"

"...yeah?...there's only one bed..."

"Unbelievable," he murmurs to himself. The first time he shares a bed with a guy and it's a fucking ghost. Soul. Whatever.

"...you want me to...sleep on the floor?..."

"No," Steve groans, falling back against his pillow. "Just get off me and go to sleep."

Eddie doesn't leave, but he lets go of his hand. Something presses against his abdomen.

"...how about...I get you off?..."

"What?"

There's a pressure against his groin, someone's phantom butt cheeks grinding down on him. So much has been happening, that he hasn't even realized he woke up half-hard.

"No, it's alright—"

"...you sure?...you'll sleep like a baby..."

Steve lets out a surprised snort.

"That so, nurse Eddie?"

"...roleplay?...already?...you change mind quickly..."

"I was joking." Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie grinds against him again.

"...I would make...a great nurse...I'm very caring...attentive..."

"That so?" Steve quirks his eyebrow, simultaneously telling his brain that he's not going to seek care and attention from the ghost in his apartment.

Though, on the other hand, he doesn't have a Soulmate anyway.

He just wishes there was a waist he could grab onto, a body he could feel, a smile he could see. But as Eddie brings him to completion, he realizes this is all he might be getting from life.

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thirst squad tags: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[ckret2]

Chapter 81 of human Bill Cipher not enjoying being the Mystery Shack's prisoner but being even less keen on being the government's prisoner: the feds are snooping around the shack, nobody likes this, and so a family meeting is called to discuss how to send them packing.

####

"I just kept telling him I didn't know anything," said Soos. He was slumped bonelessly on the couch, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve and holding a soda in one shaky hand. "I accidentally said I don't know anything when he asked where he could get lunch in town!"

"You did good, Soos," Stan said. "That's how you handle feds—don't tell 'em anything."

Stan and Ford had called a household meeting, and now everyone was packed into the living room: Soos and the kids on the couch, Stan and Abuelita in the armchairs, Bill and Wendy at the living room table, and Ford out in the entryway so he could pace.

(Everyone was wearing deely boppers. Mabel had had a very productive day.)

Even Waddles and Gompers had been dragged to the mandatory meeting. Gompers had already eaten the pink pompoms off Waddle's deely boppers and was now trying to eat the hem of Dipper's shorts while Dipper tried to push him back from touching the sunburns on his legs.

"What are we gonna do?" Dipper asked. "Last year these guys tried to arrest Stan, and he was still using a fake name back then—so now, the agents could be after Stan or Ford."

"Dial back the pessimism. Right now, they're not after anybody," Bill said. "They're just following up on the eclipse from last week." And a tip about somebody dangerous in the shack. Bill pushed those worries aside. "They don't have any reason to come back!"

"Except the flash drive," Soos said. "Which they know is here. Inside the shack. Cuz they sensed it."

"Right. Yep. Except that," Bill said. "Hey, Dolores—howsabout you whip up one of your special 'welcome to the shack' dinners for them? I'm sure they'd enjoy it just as much as I did."

Dolores nodded thoughtfully. (The tiny sleigh bells on her deely boppers jingles.) "I could," she said. "But what would we do with the bodies?"

"We've got the perfect in-house body disposal! Chop 'em up and feed 'em to the pig."

"Nooo!" Mabel flung her arms protectively over Waddles. He oinked neutrally. "We're not feeding people to Waddles!"

"He'd probably love it!"

"Uh-uh."

"Fine, then the gnomes," Bill said.

Ford said, "Let's call murder 'Plan B.'"

Bill rolled his eye. "All right, smart guy, what's Plan A?"

Ford didn't immediately reply. He paced for another few seconds in the entryway, gathering his thoughts. "There are three ways this could end badly. We have to find a way to prevent all of them," he finally said. "One: the agents discover that there's something under the house and find the portal. Two: the agents remember there's something under the house, and realize they've been brainwashed. Three: the agents retrieve their flash drive, and that reminds them something's under the house."

Stan added, "And if any of those happens, we're both going to jail. Probably Soos too, as an accomplice. Kids might even be in trouble for escaping custody last year." Dipper and Mabel exchanged an alarmed look.

Bill looked at Wendy. "Hey, look who's off the hook." He held up a hand.

"Woo-hoo!" She high-fived him. "We'll visit the rest of you guys in jail."

Mournfully, Mabel asked, "If we get arrested, can you send me crayons?"

"I'll get you one of those boxes with a hundred crayons," Bill said. "And hide a shank in that yellowy green one you never use."

"Thanks."

But if any of those three scenarios came true, that meant government agents crawling all over Bill's portal. Best case scenario, it'd end up halfway across the country in a secret military base. There was tech left in the wreck in the basement that couldn't possibly be synthesized using Earth's current technology, and the Trilazzx Betian ship didn't have backup parts for all of them.

And that wasn't even taking that anonymous tip into account...

"I shouldn't have to go to jail," Ford grumbled. "I wasn't behind the crimes committed in my name, Stanley was."

"Hey," Stan said, "you're the one who impersonated a government agent! Besides, did you really not commit any crimes while building your dumb portal?"

Ford winced. "What's the statute of limitations on burgling radioactive waste?"

"Don't worry, Mothman," Bill called. (Ford self-consciously adjusted his deely boppers, which had paper moths taped to the ends.) "I tossed most of the incriminating evidence in the bottomless pit while you were asleep!"

"Wh— Is that where my lockpicking kit went?!"

"Haha, yeah!" Bill had bought Keyhole's loyalty for the next three hundred years with that.

Wendy waved a hand between Bill and Ford to interrupt their banter. "We can probably keep them from discovering the portal by just not giving them a reason to look behind the vending machine, right?"

"And if we keep them from getting Gompers, they won't get the flash drive," Dipper said.

Mabel said, "What if we put him on a plane to Japan! Do you wanna go to Japan, Gompers?"

Gompers looked at Mabel impassively.

"It's no good," Abuelita said. "It will take weeks to get a passport for the goat."

"Aww."

"There are plenty of ways we can keep their hands off the drive," Ford said. "We could just hide Gompers underground, for instance—there's no way their sensors can reach that far.

Oh no, not when it was clear someone had been down there tinkering with the portal. "Do that and they'll know we did something to hide it! We'll never get rid of them then."

"True," Ford sighed.

Bill said. "I'm most worried about them remembering something on their own. The agents mentioned the portal's gravitational anomalies from last summer—are they remembering something they shouldn't, or did you leave them with those memories?"

Ford hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Stan. Stan shrugged.

"Oh, right. You aren't the expert on how the memory gun operates." Bill rolled his eye toward Wendy. "You see how helpless he is without me around to feed him information?"

"Pshh, shut up. Keep me out of your weird old people academic grudge."

Dryly, Ford said, "Care to enlighten us with your superior knowledge, o god of wisdom?"

No, he really didn't. Not for Ford, anyway. He wouldn't even be grateful for it.

But, under the circumstances—knowing that the agents were after him, too... "Oh, why not," Bill said. "What did you enter in the gun? The exact wording."

Ford frowned, glancing toward the ceiling as he concentrated. "It was... I didn't know exactly how much they knew—I didn't even know which names they knew Stan under—so I tried to make it as broad as possible. I think it said something like 'Pines Household's Secrets'?"

Bill thought that over. "Okay. Okay, yeah, that works. That's perfect, actually—best answer you could have given. You never disappoint, IQ."

Ford was visibly unmoved by the flattery (which was just as well, because Bill had given it out of habit as he slid back into the role of teacher, and had immediately regretted it). "And I suppose you're going to explain why that wording is so important."

"I could," Bill said. "Do you want to know?"

Ford glowered at Bill, lips pressed together in a thin line. Bill stared back, brows arched expectantly. (Wendy looked between the two of them and snorted. Bill pushed her without breaking eye contact with Ford.)

Mabel said, "I wanna know."

"Good enough for me!" Bill hopped from his seat and crossed the living room to a spot where he could address the group more easily. "The memory gun doesn't actually destroy memories, it just severs the connections between those memories and the rest of the brain. Like snipping a squid's tentacles to free it from a squid king."

"What's a squid king?" Soos asked.

"It's like a rat king made of giant squid. It takes at least four to qualify because if their tentacles are knotted in a circle that's just a squid ring," Bill said. "So! Usually you find your own memories by their relationship to other memories. Driving by the grocery store reminds you that you need to go shopping, which reminds you that you're out of straws, which reminds you of when your doctor's eye got gouged out, which reminds you of those vampires in the library, which reminds you of that book you need to return, yadda yadda."

Stan said, "Wait, your doctor got what—?"

"He was fine, he had it coming, and I was nowhere nearby."

"And how's that get you to vampires?!"

"The tangy taste of blood left in your straw. Please hold any other questions to the end!" Bill said. "But, since the memory gun severs a memory from the ones connected to it, you can't be indirectly reminded of it—the chain's been broken. But the memory'sstill there. All it takes is a direct reminder to recall it, and then it starts reattaching to your other memories. Everyone with me so far?" He directed the question in Mabel's direction.

Mabel nodded. Ford opened his mouth to ask a question.

"Great," Bill said. "But! What gets severed is determined by whatever you programmed into the gun. So, for example, if you run into a vampire in the library, then get shot with a memory gun programmed with the word 'Vampires,' there's no more jumping from your doctor to that late book! And you won't remember your vampire encounter if you wander around the library—at most, you might get a sense of deja vu—but you will get back your memory of the whole thing if you run into another vampire!"

He nodded toward Ford. "So 'Pines household's secrets is the best phrase you could've picked. It means they forgot any Pines secrets—including Stanley's criminal record—any household secrets—including the machine in the basement—and since they only forgot the 'secrets,' they can run into anything that isn't secret without recovering their severed memories—like, say, the entire upstairs of the shack."

Slowly, Ford said, "Then that's why they remember last year's gravitational anomalies. The cause is one of our secrets, but the anomalies themselves aren't a secret—they're a matter of public record."

"Bingo," Bill said. "Well! That should be simple enough. Any questions?"

Mabel raised a hand.

Bill pointed at her. "Yes!"

"Are there vampires at the library?"

"Not anymore!"

"Aw."

Dipper asked, "Did you murder your doctor with a straw?"

"I did not and I won't be taking any more questions on the topic, it was a very traumatic experience" for the patient who went in after Bill.

Stan asked, "Why are you wearing a bedsheet for a skirt."

"Because somebody—" Bill shot Soos a dark look, "grabbed all my perfectly clean clothes for laundry day, and left me with a bedsheet and one dirty t-shirt."

Soos chuckled sheepishly. "Whoops. Sorry, dude."

Ford grudgingly raised a hand.

Bill grudgingly said, "What."

"Are squid kings real."

"Yes. As of last summer there were seven with at least fifty giant squid, but two were negotiating a merger so it might be six by now. I haven't had a chance to check!"

"Negotiating a merger? Do—do they combine voluntarily?"

"Oh, sure. In droves. It's a huge honor! The one I'm friends with says the psychic powers are totally worth the eventual zombification—they're ninety percent undead now and haven't regretted it once in five hundred years."

Ford opened his mouth, got stuck between three questions, and didn't manage to settle on one before Abuelita raised a hand.

Bill's attention switched to her. "Yes!"

With an air of patience unwarranted by Bill's actions, Abuelita asked, "Why are you standing on my TV."

Bill looked down. So he was. "This is my lecture podium."

Abuelita's eyes narrowed. Bill cheerfully ignored her. "Any questions about the memory gun?"

There was a general murmured agreement that, no, that part had been pretty clear. Stan snapped, "Now get off the TV."

As Bill hopped down and caught his balance, Wendy said, "So... as long as they don't know any of the shack's secrets and we get the flash drive out of Gompers before they're back, we're cool, right? We can just erase their files and say 'hey, sorry, the goat pooped this out, totally not our fault.' If they don't remember anything, it's not like they've got a reason to keep investigating the shack."

Bill tried to imagine how they'd react if he told them someone had anonymously reported him to the agents. What if they decided scapegoating him could protect the rest of them from the investigation? (And was he sure it wasn't someone in the room who'd reported him?) "Yep! Pretty much! That'd solve our problems!"

"Okay," Wendy said. "Great. So... we're good, right?"

The room studied each other uneasily, everyone waiting for someone else to answer. "Yes," Ford said unconvincingly. "We're good. Er—kids, we need to... discuss the details of... how to handle this. You don't need to stick around." He looked at Stan. Stan gave him a slight nod. (It made the googly eyes on his deely boppers wiggle.)

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Dipper said, "Are you sure? We could..."

"I'm sure. Maybe you should go upstairs," Ford said. "Leave Gompers here."

Mabel sat up straighter, preparing to argue, and glanced toward Bill; but when Bill shrugged rather than ready to defend her, she sighed and poked Dipper. "C'mon." ("Ow." He pushed her finger away from his sunburned arm.) They left reluctantly, Mabel escorting Waddles along with her.

Ford tilted his head toward the door. "That means you too, Miss Corduroy. Hup hup."

Wendy groaned. "Fine." She slid out of her seat and headed for the door. "Hey Goldie, let me know if anything interesting happens."

"You got it, cool girl."

Soos raised a hand. "Am I one of the kids?"

"Not today," Ford said.

"Aw."

Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Abuelita got to her feet. "I will get dinner started." She shuffled out of the room.

Bill waited until the door shut behind Wendy and he was sure the kids were upstairs; and then asked, "So are we kicking the kids out for the reason I think?"

"Afraid so. Now that the government knows the flash drive is here, they'll be back with a warrant as soon as possible. We can't waste any time." Ford knelt next to Gompers and pulled out a scalpel. "Somebody hold the goat down."

"Whoa!" Stan jumped to his feet. His deely bopper googly eyes rattled in alarm. "Were you just carrying that around?!"

Bill was abruptly reminded of one of the reasons he'd liked Ford. He squatted next to him. "All right, I can see where the drive's lodged, I can tell you where to cut—"

"Dudes!" Soos flung himself across Gompers. 'You can't cut him open! He's like part of the family! He's been eating out of the shack's garbage for years, does that mean nothing to you?!" (Gompers attempted to eat the foam lightning bolts off Soos's deely boppers.)

Bill groaned. "Come on, who cares?! It's not like he's a person anymore!"

The room stared at Bill. Stan said, "Did you say 'anymore'?"

Bill paused. "Forget I said that."

Ford sighed. "Fine, we'll try to find a solution without surgery." (But, Bill thought, he sounded a little disappointed.) "But if we're using a slower method, the agents might be back before we can retrieve the flash drive. We need a way to stop them from finding it."

"Or from finding the door behind the vending machine," Soos said. "Now that they know the drive's been here, they're gonna keep looking until they find it! What if they think it might've fallen behind the vending machine or something?"

"What we need is a distraction," Stan said. "Something that'll keep 'em from searching the shack too thoroughly."

"And ideally, something that will keep them from coming back," Ford said. "They keep returning to Gravity Falls because of the power surges and related gravity anomalies in town, correct? Obviously, the meteor shower story wasn't convincing enough. If we give them an explanation that lets them close the case completely..."

Which was all well and good, except they weren't just looking for power surges and gravity hiccups anymore. They thought somebody in the shack was a threat to national security. Bill had kept suspicion away from himself for the day by pretending to be a tourist, but if the eagles got serious, that wouldn't last long. If they were watching the shack, they'd realize Bill was a resident; and if they tried to investigate him at all, they'd quickly realize they couldn't find any legal records of his existence. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Theraprism's reincarnation machine hadn't given him the right skin color to get away with that in this country, especially during a witch hunt for a suspected terrorist.

And, worse—what if they did identify him?

He'd heard Agent Trigger say Soos's alien keychains resembled the "real thing." The Bureau of Covert Investigations didn't tell all its agents about all its cases—but it sounded like these two had been to Hangar 618 at least once.

So had Bill.

Over 60 years ago, a military experiment had accidentally ripped open a very small hole to the Nightmare Realm. Not big enough for Bill to squeeze his full self through (HA! Not even close), but big enough to project a hologram through—something solid enough for the soldiers who'd detected the temporary rift to see and touch. And, naturally, they'd hauled his hologram to Hangar 618—the five-sensed suckers thought the projection was his real body—where they hid all their unidentified fallen objects.

It had been fun! He'd gotten to use all his army name puns (Major Pain, General Disarray, Private Shame, etc.), he'd lived out a centuries-old dream of snorting a line of gunpowder, he'd gotten Commander I-Don't-Even-Know-'Er to sing "On Top of Spaghetti" in exchange for Bill agreeing to leave the artillery room, he'd learned a dirty joke from the nurse brought in to assist with his vivisection, he'd introduced himself to half the base...

He'd introduced himself.

Somewhere, probably in some redacted appendix to Project Blue Book, the US military had a file on Bill Cipher—and so did the eagles. They knew his name. Hell, they even had his thumbprints—obviously alien thumbprints, that he'd retained when he reincarnated. Every object in the shack he'd ever touched carried the proof that he was Bill Cipher.

If whoever had sent the Bureau a tip had mentioned his name... Well, there were a lot of Bills in America, but not a lot using the last name "Cipher." There were probably under fifty living humans who knew about the triangle in Hangar 618, but for those who did, hearing that name resurface in Gravity Falls would blow their gelatinous little minds. He was sure they would love to get their hands on him again. He bet they'd be fascinated to find out how a triangle had fit into a human skin.

Getting hauled into a secret government facility had only been fun when his true self was still in the Nightmare Realm and the part of him in captivity had been a projection made of light, dreams, and lethal doses of radiation. Plus, that had been before he really, truly knew what it was like to be a captive. Now, the thought of being hauled back to that interrogation room—with the cheap metal chairs and gray floor and gray walls and stark sharp light—made him nauseous. The idea of being questioned about himself by some arrogant buzzkill in a suit sounded too much like therapy for comfort.

And it would be so much easier for them to keep him from escaping when he was weighed down by flesh.

Nobody was protecting Bill. The Pines weren't above throwing him under the bus if they thought it might save their precious little family from arrest. There was nothing for it. If he wanted to save himself—he had to help.

"Listen," Bill said. "I have an idea. It's iffy, and it'll require you all to trust me a bit..." He paused to give them an opportunity to laugh.

Only Stan chuckled. Good enough for Bill. "But, it might be our best shot."

"Okay," Ford said warily. "What is it."

"Bear with me," Bill said. "I bet I could get the head agent off our case by flirting with him a little."

And that time they laughed at him.

Bill patiently waited. "Okay, okay, ha ha, but the guy's been leering at me the last two days. Ask Wendy, she's the one who noticed! And do you know what his love life looks like? Because I do. Woof. Dry as a bone. That man's married to his work! He's lonelier than Elvis is!"

"Wait," Ford said. "What does that mean? Where's Elvis?"

"Not important. The point is, he's a soft target, he's already into this—" he gestured disdainfully at his human body, "and he's got the loosest lips in the eagles. I make a little small talk, I compliment his mustache and pretend I think working for the government is attractive, I keep him too dazzled to notice what's right in front of his face..." Bill trailed off. "And... that's as far as I've gotten. We'll figure it out as we go! Maybe I just distract him too much to do his job, maybe I strangle him in the bathroom and sell his body parts to half a dozen inhuman vendors in the Crawlspace, I don't know! I'll improvise!"

"It's barely half a plan," Ford said.

"It's the biggest fraction of a plan we have. What do we have to lose?"

"I think he might be on to something," Stan said. "I mean, consider it. Bill's an objectively beautiful woman."

The room stared at him. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to double his stare.

"What! It's just a fact!"

"Aww, Stan." Bill laced his hands together coquettishly and batted his lashes.

"Save it."

"Stanley. I had no idea you felt that way about me—"

"Can it, Cipher! " Stan curled a fist threateningly. Bill winked at him. Stan shuddered. "Eugh. Physical attraction's only gonna carry you so far, demon! Can you attract a man when you're talking to him? Because personally, I find you less appealing every time you open your mouth—and you were in the negatives the first time we met."

Bill thought about that. Bill thought about all his human cultists. Bill thought about all his human cultists whom he'd caught having scandalous dreams about endless staring eyes and cool black hands that buzzed with static and being fully exposed before the golden glory of an ever-watching false sun. Bill thought about that one time he tried to ask one of his sects to at least invite him to his own wedding and wait for him to RSVP before symbolically marrying more cult novitiates to him and they sorta nodded and said "okay" and then went and wedded him to another dozen Cipherwives anyway. "Yeah! Sure! No problem! I attract humans all the time! They can't get enough of this!"

"Okay, but can you attract a human that isn't into freaky space triangle things?"

Bill tapped his index fingers together thoughtfully. "Ummm..."

####

1981

A clubber eyed the hands of the man sitting at the bar beside him.

The man noticed the look and turned toward the clubber, grinning too wide, staring at him with yellowish slitted eyes that seemed to flash in the dim light like a cat's. "Yeah, I know." He drummed his fingers on the bar top. "Six fingers."

The clubber flinched at being caught staring. "Oh—sorry."

"Don't be! It's a built-in conversation starter!" The six-fingered yellow-eyed man laughed. "Hey! Have you ever had six fingers before?"

"Uhh," the clubber said. "Nnno?"

"Would you like to?" The man winked with both eyes, one at a time.

The clubber frowned at him in confusion, and then slowly turned away without answering.

####

"Sure," Bill cheerfully lied. "No problem!"

####

There was a knock on the attic bedroom door. Mabel opened it.

Stan and Ford stood in the doorway with a sulky Bill in between them. Stan pushed Bill into the room and said, "Teach him how to flirt."

Mabel gasped in delight.

####

(Well that took way later than I wanted it to—but it's finally out.

Head's up, I've got two zine deadlines that take priority, my workload triples at the end of the year, and I'm currently preparing the house to welcome home a new baby*, so we might skip next week's chapter. Hopefully not, though; I'd hate to start the new year that way. We'll see.

*it's a snake. the new baby is a boa constrictor.

Let me know what y'all think! I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts.)

[schlatt-love-bot]

The Babysitters Club

Babysitter Schlatt x Babysitter Reader Headcanon

Had a quite a bit of fun writing this one, paternal Schlatt really gets my heart going LMAO

Enjoy!

You and Schlatt were best friends in high school, and being best friends with a future entrepreneur only meant one thing–you were in for a LOT of money making schemes

“Well, we tried the lemonade stand, got told we’re too old…got fired from our bodega jobs for goofing off too much…what is there left for us to do?”

You could see the gears in Schlatt’s brain begin to turn, as all of a sudden he perked up. He came up with something

“Hmm…you like kids, right (Y/N)?” 

“Uhh…I guess you could say that? Why?” 

“I know the perfect business for us.”

Lo and behold, Schlatt and Co.’s Babysitting Service was created 

Schlatt would arrange a babysitting schedule for you, and most of the time you would go out on your own, babysit the kids, and split profits with him for managing your schedule

Sometimes, though, depending on how many kids were in one home, or how many sessions you had in a day, Schlatt would step up and give you a hand

Today was one of those days, as he scheduled you to solo-babysit one toddler from 12 to 3, but at 5:00? You had 5 children to keep an eye on, one who was only a few months old and the eldest being 9-almost-10 years old

Knowing you’d have your work cut out for you in the beginning of the day, chasing a toddler around a park while Mom and Dad were at a meeting, Schlatt decided he would be a kind best friend and boss and help you out

Not to mention, this was an overnight babysitting venture, and Schlatt was looking for any opportunity to spend a little extra time with you 

“So, how was the kid this afternoon?” 

“Good! He just wouldn’t stop running around, I felt like I was chasing a dog all afternoon.” 

Schlatt knocked on the door to your next house, the parents frantically opening the door, rushing you in to give you the basic breakdown before rushing out

“If you need anything, there’s our emergency contact numbers posted on the fridge, there’s a binder of basic information on our little monsters on the wet bar in the kitchen, next to that is some money to buy a pizza for dinner tonight. Need anything, call Grandma, she lives up the street. Thanks, see you both in the morning!” 

They practically ran out of the house, as you heard the 5 month old let out a whining cry, and the two eldest children began running laps around the two of you

You looked at Schlatt, your eyes wide, this was definitely going to be your biggest challenge yet

“You take the youngin’s, I’ll take the older shits?” 

“Yes, please!”

You made your way over to the crib, which housed the 5 month old, and sitting next to the 5 month old inside an adjacent playpen were a 2 year old and a 5 year old, playing with various toys

You picked up the 5 month old and instinctively began to rock the baby, making small talk with the other two kids about what toys they were playing, and other things they generally seemed interested 

“Is screen time okay for these two, or are we going the organic, touch grass way with these rugrats?” 

“Hmmm, check the binder. Mom and Dad probably have rules about screen time, maybe after dinner?” 

You heard the two kids, and Schlatt, let out a sigh of disappointment, as you watched Schlatt convince the two boys it was perfect baseball weather, and out they went

“Say, girls, do you want to go and play with some of your patio toys? It’s such a gorgeous day out, we shouldn’t waste daylight!” 

You were met with many tiny “yes”s, walking with the baby still wrapped tightly in your arms

You and the girls began to play with some of the chalk they had laying out on the patio pavement, teaching the girls how to draw out squares for hopscotch, telling them how to play

You couldn’t help yourself from sneaking glances every once in a while to Schlatt and the other two kiddos out on the lawn, Schlatt tossing low balls to the boys, acting like they knocked them out of the ballpark and insisting they “ran the bases” around him 

A smile crept up on your face, you began to grow a little jealous of whoever would be spending their lives parenting with him

“Man, you like him don’t you!” 

You whipped your head around, seeing the 5 year old staring at you, as her 2 year old sister stood behind her, snickering

“W-what? Absolutely not, we’re good friends. What do you know about liking someone, hmm?” 

“That’s the same look my mommy gives my daddy every single day!” 

You felt your cheeks begin to heat, needing to figure out a way to avoid these two little children from grilling you any further 

“Girls, why don’t we go in and get you cleaned up, you’re covered in chalk. Maybe we can see what’s in your cupboards and make ourselves a little treat, huh?”

The girls were eager to do so, running past you and into the house

The little one in your arms wound up a bit fussy, so you placed her into 

All washed up and ready to go, the girls drug you over to a box of cake mix, insisting that you help them make cupcakes 

You didn’t want to use anything without permission, though, so you sent a quick text over to mom and dad to make sure they were okay with you using the box mix with the kids

They were ecstatic you weren’t just shoving their tablets in their faces, so they absolutely allowed you to bake with them

The girls were excited, donning their little aprons they had stored in the pantry

Baby started to get interested in what was going on, peering over the edge of the playpen, so you picked her up and carried her (and a toy, just in case) over to a high chair in the kitchen

The girls excitedly showed you were everything was that you would need, and you let them have total control over adding things to the mixing bowl (fishing out egg shells, when necessary)

By the time the cupcakes went into the oven, the boys came walking into the house, dirty and sweaty, and their pants definitely stained from sliding in the dirt outside

“Schlatt!”

“What? He needed to slide into home plate, otherwise he would’ve gotten out! You wouldn’t understand!” 

Despite the unexpected bath times, the rest of the night went rather smoothly

Schlatt and yourself wrangled the kids together for some pizza dinner, allowing them to decorate their own cupcakes for dessert afterwards, and once their bellies were all full, it was time to wind things down for the night 

You tucked the baby into her crib, heading to the girl’s room to tuck them in and read a little story to them

On your way there, you glanced into the boy’s room, seeing Schlatt making sure that both the 7 and 9 year olds were set and ready for bed, telling them tales from his baseball experiences (he was the best first baseman in your school, after all) 

You didn’t want to get caught staring, so you continued forward and to the girl’s room

You helped the two put on their pajamas, tucking them in their beds before sitting in the rocking chair by both of their beds, having “Goodnight Moon” picked from the shelf to read tonight 

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air…Goodnight noises everywhere!” 

By the time you finished, both girls had their eyes closed tight, peacefully asleep

You smiled to yourself, content with how the evening has gone, looking up to see Schlatt leaned against the doorframe, the same smile painted on his lips

Heat crept up your cheeks as you placed the book back on their bookshelf, heading out of the room and downstairs to the living room with him

“So…that wasn’t so bad after all, huh?”

“Well, toots, we sure do make a pretty good team…” 

He slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer 

“Y’know…I think I saw a new side of you today. You playing ball with those two…I never seen you so…soft before.” 

“What can I say, baby, kids have a special way of makin’ a person soft...” 

He hesitated continuing, but your raised brow made him go on

“And…seeing you with that baby on your hip, the girls in the kitchen…you’re gonna be a perfect mom some day, (Y/N).” 

You began to blush, looking up at him, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were 

Before you could ask, Schlatt excused himself to the kitchen, coming back with two cupcakes in his hands, handing you one before sitting back down on the couch 

“You worked hard on these with the girls, you deserve a little treat too, princess.” 

He smirked, before swiping his cupcake against your nose, making your jaw drop

“Hey! What was that for?” 

“Whoops, here, let me get that…” 

He leaned forward, kissing the icing off your nose, his eyes plotting 

“Hmm, hold on…I think you’ve got a little something here…” 

You took this opportunity to smoosh your cupcake against his mouth, and before he had the chance to speak, you quickly leaned in, kissing him on the lips

He didn’t back off, answering your question from earlier as to if he felt the same

In fact, he swiftly put his cupcake down on the coffee table in front of you, grabbing your cheeks to deepen the kiss

“Ewww!”

“I told you so! Mommy and Daddy do the same thing after we bake together!” 

You quickly backed up, looking up the stairs to see all 4 of the kids out of bed, peering over the banister 

“Little shits, I swear to God…” 

You laughed, wiping the icing from your face before heading upstairs to put all the kids back into bed, making sure they stayed asleep this time, before heading back downstairs to see Schlatt fast asleep on the couch 

Sighing contently, you crawled onto the couch next to him, placing your head nearby his chest before slowly falling asleep yourself, feeling an arm wrap around you to pull you closer