#and then suddenly years after believing you are free to be abandoned

[ask-olivervocaloid]

Congrats on your update.

Some thoughts about Oliver's new design (1/?)

[grahstumhurts]

2. Putting it into gear

Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band Member!Reader

A/N Not proof read lol so it might have some weird wording and shit.

Rekindling Masterlist

The late May air is starting to feel slightly humid and hot as it usually does by this time, Megan's waiting outside. Leaning on the side of the school fence looking effortlessly beautiful as she does.

“Hey” you greet her, “What did you need to talk about?” She looks up from her phone, then looks around behind you to see if people are watching.

“Look, I owe you an apology and-” 

“That's an understatement.” You cut her off. “Two years of ignoring me should get me something better than an apology”

“Just hear me out” 

She looks you in the eyes, Her pupils glistening with the caramelised apple colour it's always been.

“Please,” 

“Fine” You cross your arms in anticipation “You gonna tell me or what?”

“I need to fake date you, for friendship reasons I guess.” Obviously that stuns you, A girl you had a crush on for the past ten years of your life is suddenly asking you to fake date her. 

“What?” Your face contorts in a mix of surprise and confusion “Why me?”

“You're the only gay person I know, I’m trying to come out to them and they won't believe me till I date someone who fits their “Gay” vision” She sighs, her face portrays her obviously conflicted emotions. “Look its okay if you won't do it, You don't owe me anything especially since i abandoned you but at least sleep on it for me.”

She pauses, trying to read your face, noticing the slight differences in your eyes.

“I also needed to say sorry, I wasn't there when I promised I would be.” 

“I wont accept your apology for now, you need to earn my trust back, Megan.”

 You sigh at the dilemma, do you chose to help her with her fake dating thing, or do you leave her behind. 

“I’ll help you under one condition, We will stay friends afterwards.” 

You expect her to say no, the wavering tone in your voice saying so.

“Thank you so much, seriously I appreciate this. I owe you, N/n” She hugs you, Her scent lingering of fresh citrus and light berries. Her arms wrap around your waist, you instinctively wrap your arms around her shoulders.

“We need to figure out a plan for this whole situation.” You comment as you two break the hug, still feeling the lingering warmth of her. 

“Are you free this week to meet up?” 

“Tuesdays and Thursdays I meet up with my band, any other day we can meet up after school.”

“How about wednesday? I have practice, can you come watch and we can go somewhere after?” The thought of her friends seeing you makes your skin crawl as your reputation with these “Popular” people is not exactly great. Considering that you and Lara are the ones who stand up to Greg when he feels the need to degrade Yoonchae. You may or may not have gotten into some physical altercations with said Greg. 

“Sure, It’ll sell the idea that we are dating a bit more,” It’s a trade off that is worth it to make Megan happy. You shrug just as her phone rings, Her ringtone was not the same as the one you had remembered her to have. It had been her favourite song, Perfect Lover by Britney Spears. But now it's one of those default ones, Removing some of the personality from her.

“Yeah?"

"Oh, Okay."

"I’ll see you soon, Mom. Love you bye”

You can vaguely hear her moms voice throughout the quick phone call, her familiar tone isn't something you can forget easily. 

“You gotta go I assume?” you pick at your nails, “I can walk you home if you want?” You look up to her, trying to gauge her reaction through her body language. “Unless you dont want me to.. You know what forget i even said-”

“NO!” She suddenly cuts you off mid sentence “I mean, No” She clears her throat repeating her affirmation in a softer tone, “it’d be nice for my mom to see you again, She used to ask me about you all the time.” She presses her lips into a line, her face covered with embarrassment. 

“Lead the way,” You slightly smile at the thought that her mom still wondered where you had been all this time, She starts walking in the direction of her house. Making small talk to catch up on each others lives during the two years of absence, Your hands brushing together as you walk on the pavement.

“I missed you, you know that right?”

The smallness in her voice juxtaposes her usually large demeanour.

“I hoped you did,”

You chuckle slightly,

“I missed you too.”

“This is me,” she stops in front of the house you used to know, “You wanna stay for dinner? I mean you don't have to or anything.”

“Sure, It’ll be nice to say hi to your mom.” She leads you into her house, The recognisable scent of her moms cooking wafting into your nostrils. Filling your senses with memories of years prior. “Do we have to fake date in front of your mom aswell?” You tease her, Slipping off your shoes.

“Yeah, I guess so..” She replies nervously, just as her Mom wraps around the corner from the kitchen. “Hey, I brought home a special someone.” 

“Oh my gosh, YN! I didn't realise you were coming tonight for dinner.” She embraces you in a warm hug. “Feels like I haven't seen you in forever.” She lightly jabs at Megan with her elbow. 

“Just been busy with school work and college applications, you know how it is.” You lightly giggle at Megan’s mom’s actions. “Glad to see you Mrs. Skiendiel”

“Oh please, Yn. You know not to call me that, Just aunty is okay.” 

-

“Wow aunty, this is seriously delicious.” You moan as you wolf down the rice and pork on your plate. “I'm grateful that your cooking skills haven't deteriorated in the period I haven't seen you” You say in between bites.

“Im happy you like it, feel free to come over and eat when you want to, Honey” She chuckles

“Uhm Mom, We have something to talk about with you.” Megan’s words shift the energy at the table. You swallow your latest bite and glance at Megan, Giving her a reassuring look. 

“You guys are dating? I know, it's not that much of a shock.” Aunty takes the words out of Megan's mouth, “I've been patiently waiting when you two would realise your feelings for eachother. I have a standing bet with your mom, Yn.” She matter-a-factly comments,

“No funny business in my house alright?” 

“Yes aunty, I don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready. Don't worry”

You try to clear the air quickly, Megan grabs your hand on the table. Interlocking her fingers with your ring clad ones, The slightly cold metal meeting her warm skin. The embarrassment of your words settling in with the two of you.

“I wouldn't dare hurt Megan, I hope you know that aunty.” You stupidly grin at her.

“I know, Yn. Just double checking, I know how you teenagers can be.” She lets out a deep sigh of relaxation. “I have some work to do. all I need you guys to do is the dishes, can you two handle that?” She squints her eyes at us, 

“Yeah, dont worry about it, Mom.” Megan stands and starts clearing the plates from the table, You follow her actions grabbing plates and silverware and bringing them to the sink in the kitchen. 

“I’ll be in the office working if you need me, Good night you two.” Megan’s Mom announces before the door closes.

“Oh my god i swear that was the most awkward i've been with your mom in forever.” You let out a deep sigh as you lean against the kitchen counter, Megan places down the rest of the dishes.

“Yeah no that was really awkward.” She giggles “Yes aunty i don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready” She mockingly says in your tone of voice. You shove her shoulder lightly. 

“Come on lets finish the dishes, I rinse, you dry?” You stand over the sink, turn on the sink and scrub the dinner plates with a soapy sponge.

“Mhm, sounds like a solid plan” She hums, picking up the drying towel from the towel rack as you start to hand her some rinsed dishes. You cheekily smile to yourself as you get a devious idea. Megan is suddenly met with a warm splash of water from the sink head

“You did not just do that” She looks at you astonished, Mouth agape. “You little shit, Yn” 

“Such hurtful words require punishment” You giggle as you spray her with more water,

“What the fuck!” She squeals, feeling the water soak her shirt, “that's not fair, i don't have a sink to spray you too.” Suddenly it seems as Megan gets an idea for your payback.

“Come here, YN. Give me, your girlfriend, A hug. why don't you?” 

“No! I'm not gonna hug you, Meg. You gotta catch me first.” She roars with laughter as she chases after you in the kitchen. 

“Im gonna get you!” She loudly shouts, Running you into the corner of the kitchen.

“I’ve got you trapped now don't i?” She pants.

“I guess so, And what are you gonna do about it?”

You tease her, She pulls you into a wet hug “Eughhhh, it's so cold” You groan feeling her damp top spread the water on your shirt. She pulls away, Snickering at the sight of your now also damp shirt, 

“You get what's coming for you.”

“Can i atleast borrow a shirt or something?” You pull your shirt away from your chest to unstick it from your skin.

“Yeah, Come on. Let's go upstairs and dry off.” She grasps her hand with yours, Her nails graze your wrist. She drags you up the stairs into her room. You stare in awe, It looks similar to when you were last here but different at the same time.

“You took down the BTS posters?” You take a glance at her as she rummages through her closet for two shirts.

“Figured it was time to grow up i guess” She sighs and pulls out the shirts. 

“You sure it wasnt just your new friends pressuring you? Not that it really matters honestly, just curious.”

“Yes its fine, seriously, YN. I dont get whats your problem is right now, they were just posters.” She throws a purple oversized shirt at you.

“Just asking, No offence and all that” You exhale deeply, “Should i go to the bathroom and change or?” She just nods and you take that as your sign to leave the room.

You reenter the room and she's laying on her bed, Phone in hand. You knock on the door frame, she glances up then pats the side of the bed for you to sit down.

“Sorry by the way. Its not really my place to ask those types of questions.” You sit on the end of her bed.

“Its okay, I'm sorry too by the way. I overreacted a tad.” You observe as she hesitates to interlock hands, You take action as you interlock your pinkies together. 

"I guess i realized how much you've changed. And i guess i wasn't ready to fully realize it." You lay next to her, Brushing shoulders.

[xoxoxkisses]

Hi I don't know if you received request about obanai so feel free to ignore this if you not comfortable or don't want to write it

I want to request about Obanai that when he got cage by his family reader family pass by and she found him then they become friends. Before she leaves the village Obanai ask her if he can get out of her will she marry him and she says yes.

Years pass and they meet at demon slayer corps as she becomes a new hashira, but you know that obanai in that time is fall in love with mitsuri. Reader remember him but he's not so she chooses to be silent about it.

After rengoku death kamaboko squad have hard time to sleep and as a good supervisor reader is she sing them a lullaby, the one she used to sang for Obanai, and that time obanai come to have a health checkup so he accidentally hear it. He remembers instantly and he go to confront reader.

The end is up to you you can make them together or just make him be with mitsuri.

Sorry for the long suggested.

This is actually my first request for Obanai, I was so excited when I got this request !

————————————————————————

It’s you again

warnings: spoilers to obanai’s backstory, angst, minor fluff, injuries (obanai), long paragraphs (I’m so sorry) not proofread, sorry if it’s a little fast paced

————————————————————————

You and your family had stopped at a village to rest. You had all been traveling through the forest almost all day and it was now dinner time. You were young, 9 to be exact. Your father had rented a small house for the 3 of you, shortly after settling in, your mother started dinner. “Mommy, can I go out and explore? Please?” You drug out the please at the end, knowing your mom always gave in when you did it. You heard her soft laughter as she barely turned to you. “Sure darling, just make sure you’re back before sundown.” A huge grin was plastered on your face now. “Okay mommy!” You ran out of the door and started towards the forest.

After walking for a while, you came across a small abandoned house. Or so you thought. Curiosity got the best of you and you walked up to the house and entered. It was dark inside, too dark. Suddenly you heard small whimpering to your left. You looked over and saw the faintest shadow of a person. You crept closer to the person when you noticed there were bars all around them, like a cage. “D-don’t come any closer!” You realized it was a boy in the cage based off of his voice. Instead of listening, you kept getting closer, comforting him. “Hey, I won’t hurt you. Are you okay?” When you were infront of the bars, you could see him better. He had ragedy clothes and his hair was tied up out of his face slightly. And his eyes, his eyes were beautiful, the yellow and blue stood out amongst everything else. “Please, you have to leave!” He came up to you, closed off by the cage he was in. You almost screamed when you saw the cut mimicking a smile on his face.

Even though you were young, you knew it was best to stay calm. “Who are you?” There were tears in his eyes as he tried to suppress them by sniffling. “O-obanai.” “I’m Y/n.” He wiped away the tears in his eyes as he looked at you. You looked so innocent and sweet unlike him. “You’re pretty.” His words took you aback before you giggled. “Thank you. I think you are too.” He had never heard someone say something nice to him. He couldn’t believe it, but he smiled. A genuine smile. “Can you stay here with me? Please?” You hesitated before you answered him, looking outside. You saw how it was getting dark now and if you didn’t leave now, your mom would be worried. “I’m sorry, I can’t. My mommy told me to be back before sundown,” you saw as his face had sunk and he frowned a little, “but, I’ll come back tomorrow, with my mommy and daddy, ok?” He looked back up at you and his eyes lit up. “Okay!” You smiled at him. “Bye Obanai.” “Bye y/n..” With that, you left the small house and back to your temporary one.

As you ran through the door, you spoke up before anyone could greet you. “Mommy, daddy, there’s a boy in the woods, he needs our help!” Your mother looked at you wish wide eyes as she listened to what you had to say. “What was his name Y/n?” You looked at your father who had asked the question. “His name was Obanai.” “Hm, okay. Take us to him tomorrow morning before we leave. Was he injured?” “Uh huh! He had a huge cut along his mouth, like a smile!” You used your own fingers to mimic the cut. Your mother audibly gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my!” Your father cleared his throat. “Ahem, Y/n, dinner is ready, why don’t we eat?” You nodded as you climbed into a chair at the table. The rest of the night going by with ease. ————————————————————————

“Cmon, this way!” You and your parents had left the house early to find him, they followed you as you were certain on where you were going. When you saw the house into view, your heart raced with excitement. “There! That’s where he is.” The three of you reached the house in no time, your parents went in first in case something dangerous was inside, but there wasn’t. When you walked in to ran to the cage where he was. “Obanai? Are you in there.” You saw his faint shadow move as he went to the bars where you were. “Y/n, you came back!” You nodded frantically. “I told you I would, my mommy and daddy are here too.” They were already walking over to the two of you. As your mother crouched down, Obanai flinched a little. “It’s okay sweetie, we aren’t going to hurt you.” Your mother reached inside her coat pocket and grabbed some bandages. “Can you put these on yourself?” Obanai looked at you as if he was asking you if she was safe. You nodded your head at him and he looked back at your mother. “U-uh huh.” Your mother smiled at him as she passed the bandages to him.

He took them from her hand hesitantly, but when he did he instantly started bandaging himself. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome darling.” There had been a question bothering you this whole time, and your little 9 year old brain couldn’t suppress it anymore. “Mommy can he come with us?” She looked over at you and back at him with sorrowful eyes. “I’m afraid not hunny, we don’t have anything for him. We must be going now too, we can’t risk anymore daylight.” Your father nodded. You felt tears form in your eyes. You didn’t dare to protest because you knew it was true. You guys couldn’t care for him right now. Your mother looked back at Obanai. “I’m sorry sweetie, but we must be going. Goodbye.” Her and your father stood up and walked to the door, leaving you and Obanai alone. “Obanai I’m so sorry-“ He cut you off. “Y/n, if I ever get out of here and I see you again, will you promise to marry me?” You looked into his eyes and you knew he was being genuine. You wiped away your tears just then. “Yeah, I will.” You smiled at him as you looked back at your parents. “Bye Obanai..” “Bye Y/n.” And that was the last time you ever talked to him. ————————————————————————

9 years later..

After 2 years of training, you had finally become a Hashira. You decided to join the corps when your father was slaughtered by a demon, so you wanted to avenge him. The master had sent you a letter informing you the next meeting would be an introduction for you. That was sent 2 days ago though, and the meeting was today. You were beyond nervous.

As you walked to the Master’s mansion, you saw the other Hashira. You would be the 10th one. The only one you knew was Rengoku as you were his Tsuguko. Rengoku saw you and went up to you. “Hello there Y/n! It’s great to see you have finally become a Hashira, I’m glad to be working beside you now!” You smiled as you fumbled your hands a bit. “Me too Rengoku!” As the meeting was about to start, you took a seat beside him. You would have to introduce yourself at the end, so you weren’t too nervous yet. It seemed the end came way too quick, the master had asked you to come beside him; you followed his directions and did so. “Everyone, this is Y/n. She has worked hard for the past 2 years to become a Hashira. I hope you all give her a warm welcome.” You bowed to everyone before you went back to your seat beside Rengoku.

When you were all dismissed, the love Hashira, who introduced herself as Kanroji. “I can tell me and you are going to be best friends!” You smiled at her as you agreed. You talked to a few more Hashira before they all started to leave, you included. You had learned about a boy named Tanjiro Kamado and how he was special traveling with his demon sister.

There was one thing at the meeting that you couldn’t seem to ignore. The serpent Hashira. You knew who he was with those eyes. He was Obanai. You didn’t have the chance to talk to him, and maybe that was a good thing. He didn’t seem to remember you. ————————————————————————

3 months later…

You were out eating with Kanroji when she mentioned obanai. “You know, everyone says he likes me, but I think he’s just sweet. I mean he is cute though!” You remembered the thing Obanai told you before you left him. How he wanted to marry you if he ever got out, but it looks like he wants someone else. “Well, I’m sure he does like you. The two of you would be adorable together.” Her face got insanely red as you laughed at her.

Just then your crow flew in. “Y/n, Rengoku-San has passed away.” You and Kanroji stared at each other as tears flooded both of your eyes. “T-that can’t be true.” “I’m afraid it is..Shinobu has requested you specifically Y/n to take care of the three boys that accompanied him on his mission.” You wiped away your tears as you nodded. “I’m sorry Kanroji, I must be going.” “It’s alright, I’ll see you later.” You bowed to her and followed your crow out to the butterfly mansion.

When you got there, she escorted you to a room with three boys. One being Tanjiro. When he saw you he slightly lit up. “Hello Y/n-san.” You gave him a weak smile. “Hi Tanjiro.” You looked over to see a boy with yellow hair and a boy with a boar mask crying. Tanjiro seemed the be the only one not crying, but you knew he was. “Shinobu told me to take care of you guys. It’s hard on us all.” It seemed something snapped in Tanjiro because he started crying yet again. The reason Shinobu requested you specifically was because you were the sweetest Hashira out of them all, and the most emotional. Seeing them all cry made you cry. So now, the room was filled with crying people all over. You held your arms out and suddenly all three of them ran to you. You embraced them all, trying to calm yourself. You took some deep breaths and it seemed to help.

You couldn’t seem to calm the others though, there was only one thing you could think of: a lullaby. You only knew one though, and it was the one you sung to obanai before you left him the first day.

{Baby mine, don’t you cry

Baby mine, dry your eyes

Rest your head close to my heart

Never to part, baby mine}

Obanai was visiting the butterfly mansion for his check up. As he was passing by the room the four of you were in, he recognized the lullaby you sang. He paused for a moment before turning back. He carefully opened the door and saw you standing there hugging the three boys. You continued to sing as you noticed it was working to calm them.

“I know that song.” You paused suddenly and slowly turned to see him standing at the door. “I remember a girl used to sing it to me. I can’t quite remember her though.” You told the boys you would be back and you asked Obanai to talk outside. As you shut the door you looked up at him. You realized how different he looked than he used to. “You see, that girl was me.” His eyes went wide as he looked at you, and he saw the resemblance. She was you. “You look so..different.” You shuffled, slightly uncomfortable. “Yeah, you too.” Just then, he seemed to remember everything. “I remember I told you if I ever got out of marry you.” You chuckled nervously. “Yeah you did.”

The two of you stood there in an uncomfortable silence before he spoke up. “Well, I hope you didn’t take that seriously. I’ve fallen for Kanroji.” You couldn’t help but feel sad. Your heart broke. You spent all these years looking for him, only for him to choose someone else. “Haha, of course I didn’t take it seriously, we were young.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I would’ve felt a little bad if you did.” He looked at the clock on the wall and realized what time it was. “I must be going now. See you later Y/n.” “Yeah..see you.” He turned around and walked away from you, leaving you there.

Your heart broke even more now. The man you wanted was out of your grasp. ————————————————————————

You were at Kanroji and Obanai’s wedding. You were one of Kanroji’s bridesmaids. You watched as the two of them said their “I do’s”, you kept a smile on your face, however it was fake. The tears streamed down your face as you watched him pull her in and kiss her. You hoped the people from the audience saw your tears as tears of joy, and not sad tears. You were happy for your friend of course, but you couldn’t help but wish it was you instead of her.

[thesamoanqueen]

Anatomy of an affair

Warnings: age-gap (but we keep it legal), cheating.

A/N: I was talking to @alyyaanna and the anatomy professor's idea took control, I couldn't resist, so this one for her. It will have a sequel, this is just part 1.

They say the secret of a good relationship is friendship, I had scientifically proven that this wasn't the case being a test subject all my life. Tobert and I had grown up in the same neighborhood in Pendleton South Carolina, two nearby houses, our families loved each other, we went to school together, hung out with the same group of friends, we even broke our arms together – it was his fault –. For everyone we were two soul mates linked, it was inevitable in some way. We had done everything together our whole lives, the most mundane things and the first shameful experiences. Our relationship on paper was destined for success, absolute, overwhelming, our faces under the heading "goal couple", at least until I decided to study medicine in Boston and he stayed in our hometown. Our paths had separated for just three months before he had a bad accident at his uncle's construction company, he had begged me, it had been a tough decision, but I had agreed to come back to support him. But now that I had finally taken control of my life, in my second actual year of studies, Tobert was boycotting everything again.

For the entire previous year I had thought he was trying to distract himself from the void I had left in his life, filling it with trips and nights with co-workers and friends, but looking back I had been kidding myself. Our parents called every day to find out when we were getting married and if I would be home soon, but from him? Oh, well, a few calls, always short, couple of messages, often stupid ones, and a facetime on weekend for some creepy phone sex. He didn't come to visit me, he didn't organize anything when I returned home, for my last birthday he sent me a package with a sweater I suspected he hadn't chosen. And now, after months of tolerating it, I saw him in an IG story with a chick’s ass in his face.

- "Good Lord man!"

- "Sav have you seen? Sav?"

What I could see was that he was even enjoying it! He had the same stupid face of an old man who can't read the newspaper, the one has been in my face since we were fifteen, ending our moments like commercials on TV in his father's garage.

- "What’s with that face? Sav is it everything okay?"

- "Savannah…"

I had felt guilty for wanting to start again and leaving him behind, I was working hard to finish and return home, I had always pushed away the instinct that told me I deserved more and instead he was living his best life without worrying about hiding it. His behaviour was not somekind of abandonment syndrome, it was just one of his bullshit and evidences were everywhere. I was a freking clown, our relationship was a joke I had wanted to believe alone because after so many years it seemed impossible to think of anyone else to me, when he was simply used to having me there at his disposal and now he thought was free. I had wasted my life and almost burned my future…

Realization hit me in the cafeteria, my colleagues staring at me like at some psycopath and rightly so, because when the next story popped up on the screen, I snapped.

- "That asshole!" – my scream echoed throughout the entire hall, overcoming the chatter that always filled it.

The sudden silence that followed and the hand one of my friends smashed against my arm brought me back suddenly, but by then it was late. I had just made the scene I would probably always be remembered for. Standing with my latte dripping onto the couch and music now playing in the background like a bad theme for my drama, I saw dozens of eyes staring at me.

- "... Sav what’s you problem?! We got company... get your ass over here!" – my roommate whispered in a panic, nodding towards the two men who had been about to leave.

In slow motion I saw them both looking at me and to humiliation was added absolute terror when without thinking I raised my hand to wave an embarrassed greeting, restarting Tobert's story. Oh, they would definitely remember me for that scene.

There wasn't a person on the entire campus who didn't know about my performance and the worst thing certainly wasn't the rumors but rather pity looks, plus the extra tasks I had agreed to do to clean up my reputation and keep myself busy. I hadn't received any formal warning, not even a comment, but I didn't want to risk ruining my career after having already dropped out in the past. The idea of losing the opportunity of a lifetime to someone who had already gotten more than he deserved from me drove me crazy.

Tobert hadn't commented, probably his two brain cells hadn't yet met to discuss what to do or they didn't think it was serious, but I had clear ideas and I had chosen to run the circus, patiently planning the day I would have kicked him with my degree.

So armed with good will and courage I marched across campus with my head held high, ready to face my demons and regain total control. It was almost time for the anatomy course to start and I planned to pass with top marks, but to do so I also had to make sure that the new professor didn't just remember me for screaming that day in front of him and his predecessor. My friends talked about him constantly, but I didn't have time for gossip, I had to seem like the right person to invest in for the future of medicine. When I arrived in front of his studio, however, my intention seemed less simple than expected. The entire aisle had been assaulted by a crowd of students, mostly girls. If I had suffered from amnesia, I would have thought I was at a concert or among a nymphomaniacs cult. We weren't in California, those outfits were definitely out of season as well as indecent, what’s was wrong with all of them?

- "Do you think he will receive today?"

- "Ah, I hope so! I want to see him so bad!"

Forced to wait like everyone else, I caught up with the gossip I had refused to hear from my friends, discovering the new professor was not only charming, but also young and free, which explained the cult. I also sadly discovered firsthand he hated receiving students and from what I saw he didn't even respect the time when he should have been forced to do so. Sitting in my chair, I waited twice as long before seeing the other students go away resignedly with their tiny blouses and too short skirts, deciding to spending my time finishing the chemistry project I had to hand in the following week. With my head down and fixed not to give up, I continued typing on my keyboard until two voices distracted me.

- "You can't take care of it alone, it's not necessary and you shouldn't at all" – I knew Mr. Heyman, he was an authority everywhere thanks to his investments and was often in the area because of his daughter, as well as a good friend of the rector.

The other man with him, I had only seen him on the day of my drama and I must not have seen him well due to the shock, because if I had I would not have given dirty looks to all the girls who had waited for him with me. Was he really a professor? Since when were professors like that?! You couldn't be like that, it was disorienting, didn’t help to the teaching process.

- "I should find someone but I don't have time to waste, Paul" – he complained and his voice sent a shiver through my body as I watched them reach the door in front of me.

- "I could ask, I have some friends, I'm sure there will be many smart guys who would be honored to do it, extra credits or not."

- "I will do it."

I said without thinking, lost in thoughts I shouldn't have been having, and they both turned to look at me, just as confused and surprised by the interruption as I was.

I had planned to introduce myself, ask a few questions, apologize for the bad first impression and now I had just made another one, listening to conversations that didn't concern me, without even saying hello, volunteering for who knows what next. Perfect.

Once the confusion was over, Mr. Heyman looked at me with interest, almost analyzing me, and I quickly tried to put myself together, putting everything away to get up.

- "And you are?" – He asked, his hands hidden in the pockets of his elegant suit.

- "Savannah Naïs Simon. Among the best in my class" – I introduced myself without hesitation and once again mentally scolded myself.

Now I even praised myself?! I usually handled the pressure well, for that kind of career it was indispensable, after all, but all of a sudden I was making one misstep after another and I couldn't afford it, not now. Tobert wasn't there to screw things, I had no excuses, it was my time, it was up to me. Head held high, nerves strong, that's what I needed.

- "Among the best doesn't mean the best" – Mr. Heyman cut me off, shaking his head – "and we have to check it too. I'll make a call."

Struck dumb, I quickly tried to think of something, anything, to make my case. The other professors would have confirmed, but what would I look like standing there waiting for their help?

- "It's no use" – however, Professor Reigns, who had watched until that moment, stopped us both.

His voice really played tricks on my body, but when my eyes met his it was even worse. His expression conveyed nothing, I couldn't imagine what he was thinking, but he exuded authority and there was something magnetic about him, the kind of man capable of changing the atmosphere with just his presence.

- "Are you sure?" – he heard Mr. Heyman ask him, finally stopping looking at me.

- "I’ll take her" – he established, checking me for a brief moment and I held my breath without even realizing it.

He will… take me? for doing what? And was it positive or…

- "We start tomorrow morning" – he said, addressing me directly.

- "I will be on time" – I promised, even if he had already turned his back to me to open the door, Mr. Heyman following him without paying any more attention to me.

- "No phone Miss Simon" – he advised from afar, just before I was left completely alone in the aisle and I distinctly felt the weight of the entire campus falling on me.

I had risked making another scene, I had volunteered for something I didn't even know what it was, I would have had to move lessons to keep my word and I would have thrown away even the amount of time I had left to sleep. And once again that wasn't the worst, but the fact he remembered and had already targeted me before I could even apologize.

What awaited me was a role as an assistant for the entire duration of the course, but I only found out the following day, after spending the whole night awake. I wouldn't have much time to do anything else, it was clear from the first moment, but I had no intention of backing out after having volunteered. It wasn't just a way to make up for my bad impression, it was an opportunity for which anyone else would have gladly given an organ, I myself would have done so - who needed two kidneys? One was enough - and that would certainly help my career, I was lucky. Professor Reigns was a successful doctor, he had changed the landscape of pathological anatomy with his works and his presence was an honor for the university. Admissions to his course were closed after just one day and the program specified that a selection would still be made by him personally. Assisting him and observing how he worked could have given me a great advantage in the selection phase and that was what I was aiming for. Memorizing had always been my thing, but anatomy was much more than listing body parts.

However, reality once again did not correspond to my expectations and in the following three days, I felt more like a secretary than an assistant, with alla those emails and calls. He always arrived early and most of the time I found him sitting at his desk, looking at personal documents and boxes full of medical records. He worked with his head down for hours, often without speaking or taking a break, which wasn't good for my ambition, but at least it helped me not to get distracted because the rare times I saw him looking at me were a test of mental resistance.

His presence demanded attention, his imposing body promised what it shouldn't with the most banal gestures like a pen between his fingers. Calling him a good-looking man would have been an insult, the world was full of handsome and insignificant men, but he had something vaguely frightening, something I had never tasted before and it awakened an almost primordial impulse in me.

The sound of someone knocking on the door brought me out of my thoughts and I quickly straightened up, hoping nothing in me would give me away. I couldn't think about certain things, I wasn't there to daydream about affairs, not when my future was in play and my lifelong boyfriend had cheated on me. A student I had seen a couple of times appeared in the doorway, wearing a lab coat, a deep neckline underneath. Her blue eyes scanned the room where I was in search of what interested her and which was instead sitting in the near room.

- "I know it's not reception hour, but is the professor over there? I would like to talk to him in private about some things" – she said without even trying too hard to simulate and I batted my eyelashes at her, fascinated and annoyed at her courage before stopping her.

- "Unfortunately he is busy. If it’s important you can ask via email or otherwise wait for the course to start. Lessons start tomorrow morning, the time and place are already confirmed" – I anticipated, getting a reproachful look.

- "I need to see him now."

Oh, I could imagine it and I would have complimented the clever attempt to show up when no one was waiting if she hadn't been trying to call me dumb.

- "Can I help you now?" – I proposed without getting too upset and she seemed on the verge of losing her patience.

- "Can I have an appointment?"

- "Sure, I'll put you on the list."

I didn't see her expression, she was probably furious, but she didn't give me time, huffing her disappointment out of the studio, leaving me with the agenda in my hand. I closed it with a heavy breath, putting it back in my bag, where I had been advised to keep it so that it was always with me and never unattended. When I raised my head I almost had a heart attack, discovering Professor Reigns intent on staring at me from his desk, hands crossed, his expression curious.

- "I'm busy?" – he inquired and his low, rough voice made my neck tingle.

I hadn't told a lie, he was busy. He worked on those medical records all day, there was always some document on which he kept his eyes glued. Why was he staring at me like that? Maybe I shouldn't have spoken before asking yes, but my intentions weren't bad, I was trying to be helpful.

- "With the material for the research project and the visit to the rector this afternoon, plus I don't think she really had any questions" – I explained, clenching my fists praying that I could use them against myself because it would have been much better.

I spoke without being involved, I made decisions independently, now I also commented and implied. The unkind thoughts I'd had about Tobert were backfiring on me, bad karma.

- "Is that so?" – Professor Reigns asked curiously, leaning back in his chair and knowing for a fact it was better keep my mouth closed, I nodded, returning to look at my laptop in silence hoping to not have to explain anything else.

I couldn't talk about those things with a professor, someone who could have mentored me, it didn't matter if there wasn't that much of an age gap between us and we ended up on the topic. It was an off limits talk and I tried to focus on the topics outline he would analyze the following day during the first lesson, it had to be detailed and precise, but I couldn't even read what I had summarized until five minutes before.

- "Savannah right?" – I heard my name being called and even more shocked, I watched him finally get up from his desk to join me – "you want to be a cardiologist"

- "How... who"- I spluttered in surprise and putting hands in his pockets, he smiled at me amused.

A smile that would have knocked anyone out, perfect and soft, so incredibly unexpected on an authority figure like him. For three days he had paid almost no attention to me, only addressing me as necessary as Miss. Simon and I had never hoped for more than that, because of our first meeting and his role. Plus not many people knew my goal, after giving up and coming back was something I had learned to keep to myself.

- "Paul is a friend of mine and the rector's. He has his people. He was doubtful at first, but he thought better of it after a few calls and was right as always. You're doing a good job" – he replied, clarifying the doubts I wasn't even able to express and I felt my stomach tighten with emotion.

I knew I shouldn't expect recognition, not in such a competitive environment and when I was a nobody, but it was nice to know my effort was being noticed. Noticed moreover by people of that level. It was a rush of positive energy I really needed to give value to my sacrifices and know investing in myself was the right thing. Tobert and this sort of incestuous relationship we'd had had tried to screw everything, but I was still in the running.

- "I do my best, it's an honor" – I said enthusiastically, matching the smile he had given me, but he raised a hand to stop me, swinging his head.

- "Let's leave this out, I need support and an objective opinion at every lesson. I'm not a real professor, I'm a doctor, but it's an opportunity and everyone has something to pass on. Do you think you can do it, without distractions?" – He asked, throwing another dig at me, but this time I quickly got over it, nodding immediately.

At that point I would have done anything he asked me, I couldn't refuse him anything. It had been three days as a secretary, ignored and perpetually under pressure, but I had passed the test, I had earned his trust. He really wanted me to become his assistant now, he asked for my opinion even though we weren't equals in that field. Screw karma, I had already won in life at that point!

- "I can give my word Sir" – I promised and once again that smile appeared on his perfect face.

- "Good girl" – he approved, before leaving me again.

Those two words rang in my ears right inside my head, as dangerous as a spell and I had the impression of feeling my blood warm, while my body suddenly came alive and melted at the idea of having deserved that pet name. Subconsciously, I scratched my notebook, legs clenched under the desk as I watched the profile of his massive back. We had had an important moment and there I was holding my breath for something that Tobert had never in a lifetime been able to give me, after two words said without any intention.

I saw Mr. Reigns sit back down, rolling his shoulders with ease as he resumed whatever had occupied him before our chat. His eyes searched me one last time and a part of me that shouldn't have throbbed around nothing, making me lower my head to the lesson plan.

I was imagining it, it was in my head and it had to disappear as soon as possible.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @sortudademais

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Franciszka Halamajowa

Chana and Moshe Malc were traditional Jews living in Sokal, Poland (modern-day Ukraine) with their two young children when the Nazis occupied their town in 1941. Immediately, local residents were emboldened to persecute their Jewish neighbors and violent attacks became common. A squalid, overcrowded Jewish ghetto was established in 1942 and the Malcs were taken from their home and forced to live there.

The Germans began rounding people up, a thousand at a time, and sending them from the ghetto to death camps. Frantically, the Malcs found an attic where six-year-old Chaim Malc could hide, and then Chana, Moshe and their toddler Lifsha, growing desperate, took refuge in a dank cellar with 30 other Jews. They were able to rescue Chaim from his solitary hiding place and bring him to the cellar, but unfortunately Lifsha wouldn’t stop crying. Tragically, a Jew who was forced by the Nazis to search for hidden Jews heard Lifsha’s wails and took her from her family and handed her over to a German soldier, making sure that the other Jews in the cellar wouldn’t be discovered.

Devastated by the loss of their precious daughter and aware that their own days in the ghetto were numbered, the Malcs knew their best chance of survival was to find a place to hide outside the ghetto. They managed to sneak out, but where could they go? They knew one Polish woman, Franciszka Halamajowa, and with nowhere else to turn, they went to her home and pleaded for help. Chaim Malc later explained how the family knew Franciszka. “You never know when you do a favor for someone what it will bring eventually. In 1936, my father and grandfather were traveling with a horse and wagon and they stopped for a woman who was waiting at the side of the road with a lot of parcels – this was how they met Franciszka.”

A kind-hearted woman who was grateful for the Malcs’ help several years before, Franciszka and her young adult daughter Helena warmly welcomed the Jewish family into their humble home. They furnished a small attic room above the pigsty for the Malcs and provided for all their needs. Franciszka’s son Wilmus helped them procure extra food and supplies for the hidden Jews. Franciszka and her family were fully aware of the risks they incurred by secretly sheltering the Malc family; the penalty for hiding Jews was execution on the spot. Franciszka was a devout Catholic who believed that God put the Malcs in her life so that she could help them. 

Soon, members of the extended Malc family also moved into Franciszka’s cramped attic, including Moshe’s mother, sisters and niece. A few months after that, Moshe’s brother Shmelke joined them, along with the four-person Kindler family, bringing the total of attic dwellers to thirteen. They had to keep quiet, and spent the long days praying, writing, and playing chess. Moshe Malc kept a diary in Yiddish, his native tongue. Amazingly, young Chaim later said, “There were high spirits in the hideout in the attic.”

Dr. Kindler was an experienced local physician who provided medical care when needed to the thirteen people in the tiny attic. Sadly, Chaya-Dvora Malc, Moshe’s sister, died of typhus and was buried under the apple tree in Franciszka’s yard. Dr. Kindler’s medical acumen prevented anybody else from getting sick, and in fact saved their lives in another way. Franciszka’s neighbors found out about the hidden Jews and threatened to report them to the Gestapo. In exchange for free medical care from Dr. Kindler, the neighbors kept their mouths shut. Meanwhile, the Polish residents of Sokal were abandoning the city because of the fear of enemy attacks. 

After the Jews had been safely hidden for twenty months, Franciszka was devastated when Nazis suddenly turned up at her front door. They didn’t know about the hidden Jews; they were there to build radar equipment on the roof of Franciszka’s home. Certain that the end was near, the Jews actually contemplated committing mass suicide rather than be sent to a Nazi death camp. Miraculously, the Germans suddenly abandoned the project – perhaps because the Russian army was closing in on Sokal. 

One month later, the city was liberated and for the first time in almost two years, the Malcs and Kindlers went outside. They were surprised to learn that Franciszka had actually hidden three more Jews inside her home, and they helped her cook meals and do laundry for the Malcs and Kindlers. Chaim later remembered the monumental day of liberation. “We emerged on a sunny day in July. We could hardly talk or walk. I was eight years old.” The thirteen Jews hidden by Franciszka were among only 30 of Sokal’s 6000 Jews to survive the war.

The Malcs went from Sokal to a Displaced Persons camp in Germany, where they had another son, Nathan, and then they immigrated to the United States. Franciszka never told anybody about her brave actions during the war, and went to her grave as an unknown hero. In 1984, Franciszka (posthumously) and Helena were honored as Righteous Among the Nations by Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem.

Moshe Malc’s diary survived the war to become a family treasure. Sixty-four years after they were liberated, Moshe’s granddaughter Judy Maltz made a feature-length documentary about Franciszka Halamajowa, the brave and pious Polish woman who saved three Jewish families. The movie is called “No 4 Street of Our Lady” – Franciszka’s address. It wasn’t until after the movie came out that Franciszka’s own grandchildren learned the extent of what she did.

For saving 16 Jews from the Nazis, we honor Franciszka Halamajowa as this week’s Thursday Hero.

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎTender is the Night (Part Two)⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: mentions of death/dying, angst pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: fem reader x ghost billy the kid author’s note: (modern au) based partially on @goosita ghost billy au (which I've been dying for an excuse to write for) which is based on lisa frankenstein (love) Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The threads separating life and death are gossamer, as fine as spiderwebs and nearly as breakable. It is a ragged veil that hangs over mortality, fluttering in an invisible wind and offering those encased a glimpse of the other side.

He was nearly a shadow, clinging to the edges of the graveyard, haunting without really haunting. It was as if he’d been swallowed except for the final drop left in his shape, retaining the same pain as someone breathing.

All this time he'd thought the world cruel for keeping him here with no purpose- just aimlessly wandering with nothing but his own thoughts to accompany him. He was well aware that punishment was reasonable- he hadn't exactly been a good man.

Maybe not so bad a man as he'd thought. Not if you'd come his way.

You spent your free time with him, lying side by side with him on the grassy expanse of his grave. Sometimes you brought homework or a book with you, sometimes you played music. And sometimes you abandoned all of it in favor of listening to him.

Slowly, he began to tell you about his few years on earth. Of his passage to America. Of the deaths of his family. How he was thrust into the life of an outlaw without so much as a say. You listened fascinatedly, like nobody else had. Even while he'd had a beating heart and air in his lungs he hadn't been such a point of fascination to anybody. No, he'd been simply existing, no better than his current ghostly form.

Billy felt more alive with you than he ever had when he was breathing.

“How do you think we’d have met in your time?” you murmured one day, lying on your side with your hair tumbling down over your shoulders like a waterfall.

Billy hummed, his hand half wound through a strand. "Maybe at the bar one night. I'd buy you a drink 'n we'd get to talkin'."

You giggled, leaning your cheek on your hand. "I'd have liked that."

"Me too," was his response, murmured as he watched you watch him. Suddenly the great divide between life and death didn't seem as prominent. It was such a delicate thing, yet unbreakable.

Two souls, existing in the wrong space of time. Maybe that was the reason he was made to haunt the earth so long after his supposed permanent disappearance. Maybe all these years of being lonely and feeling neglected were paid for the gift of you.

"I wasn't a good man," he confessed, tracing stars onto your arm and imagining them taking shape, leaving patterns that marked the fact that he was real to you. It was still unclear why exactly he was able to touch you now. Or why you were able to see him. But you were the common denominator. It couldn't be a coincidence that the best thing to happen to him in a century and the revelation of his existence had overlapped. "Dunno if that's been absolved...with death 'n all. But it stays with me. 's if it was yesterday."

You hummed, fingers twiddling with a blade of grass before your wrist. He knew nearly every quirk about you at this point, could read you like a map, chart the nature of what you were about to say. But he'd never deem to guess exactly what that would be. You had a way of surprising him in the best of ways. "You know...I don't believe in the idea of people being good or bad."

"Hm?" Billy blinked at you, the pads of his fingers pausing their motions on your skin.

Turning your head to face the sky, blue in all its glory with fluffy white clouds adorning the expanse of it, you let your eyelashes touch your cheek once before continuing. "People are full of a million intentions and thoughts and feelings. Not all of them can be defined. Not all of them are ever revealed. I don't think it's all measured up against us."

Billy let the quiet talk for a moment as he thought about it, the idea taking space, filling the gap more wholly than guilt ever could. His features lightened, and you smiled at the sight, moving forward and reaching for his hand. He expected your fingers to pass through his form, occupy the space inside the outline. But instead your warm palm sat atop his knuckles, making you both look up.

“Did…?” your question trailed off, as if you weren’t exactly sure what you should be asking.

“Yes.” Billy turned his palm over, letting yours touch it. He was in utter disbelief. First he could touch you and now you could touch him. Something was brightening from the inside, warming him and lighting everything up. It intensified when he looked at you, watching the way your lips parted, the wonder fill your eyes. It was like you were seeing him for the first time.

After that, it was like you couldn't keep your hands off each other. Whenever you came over you were touching him in some way; holding his hand, rubbing his arm, or his personal favorite- lying with your head on his chest. It almost made him feel like a person again, lying among the flowers with a pretty girl in his arms.

With every day, he could feel the weight of emotions he hadn't felt in decades holding him to earth, as if heaven or hell wouldn't let him in due to his love.

Due to his love.

He realized it one day as you were lazily resting with your hair spread across him, and he was thumbing your cheek. In your hands was a copy of Romeo and Juliet, one of your favorites, you'd told him. Every now and then you'd stop and read a passage to him, and he'd smile, enchanted by your love for it.

“Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night,” you recited, and he could hear your smile in your voice.

My heart didn't love until now, he thought casually. And then it hit him, a rod of lightning from the sky.

You were his sun, his moon. You were the light after centuries of darkness. You cared for him, astounded him with your sweetness, with your view of the world. This had to be the reason he could now touch you. because you were his reason for everything now.

You made him feel alive again.

Once he realized it, he felt frozen. He was a ghost in love with a living girl. Billy had never heard anything more hopeless. He felt as though he were yelling into a void. Before he had thanked the higher powers for gifting you to him, but now he was sure this was some kind of torment. Bringing the sweetest, kindest girl he'd ever known into his afterlife and making it so he couldn't have her. Was there ever a crueler thing?

You looked up at him with the most darling of smiles then, shifting on his chest and reaching up for his hand while keeping hold of the book. Billy couldn't help his smile, and he tangled his fingers with yours. An abundance of that old familiar glowing feeling warmed him again, and he disregarded all previous thoughts.

You were worth every bit of it.

tagging @kellielovesmovies because <3 also HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN!!!!!

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Summer Fling Part 2/10

Part 1 Part 3

Summary - Reader has landed a research job at a marine biology lab in Portugal. She is, therefore, staying with her sister and her sister's Portuguese boyfriend for the summer holidays. There, she meets Ruben Dias, who is on vacation with his friends after the 2024 Euros. However, the two meet under the circumstances in which Ruben believes that Reader is a prostitute.

Enjoy! ☀️

Who would have thought that after a night out and several rounds of drinks, you still weren't able to turn your sleep schedule around. Apparently, you left Australia, but Australia refused to leave you, resulting in another night of laying on your back and admiring the sealing.

"Fuck, Diogo!"

"Right there!"

"Yes, right there!"

"Ohhhh God!"

However, even if you did turn your sleep schedule around, falling asleep to the sounds of your sister getting her back blown by her boyfriend would've simply been impossible.

"Yes, Diogo. Yeeees!"

You covered your ears with your hands and prayed for better times. But when that didn't work, you got out of bed, hopped in the shower, and left the house.

Diogo didn't live too far from the city of Albufeira. You and your sister were too drunk to make it back to Faro last night. Staying with him was the most convenient thing to do. You made it back downtown by hopping on a train. However, there wasn't much to see in the morning since it was still early hours. Street sweepers were seen cleaning up the aftermath of last night's partying, and soon tourists and their family's would make their way down the white sandcastle hills, exploring another day in paradise.

"One ticket to the Zoomarine, please."

You got pretty bored of lounging around the streets like a hungover hobo. The next best thing to do was to buy a ticket to the Algarve Zoomarine, a water park with live dolphin shows and displays of marine life. As a kid, you used to love visiting these types of places in Australia. However, after years of education, you saw these places for what they really were. Animal crime scenes.

You sat in on one of the dolphin shows but couldn't last ten minutes before abandoning your seat. It was simply a disgrace to see those poor animals forced to do tricks and interact with humans. All for the sake of being given fish as a treat.

"They're pretty amazing, no? Those blue puffer fish."

You came to mourn the Portuguese marine life while admiring a giant aquarium. When suddenly, a man, blonde and blue eyes, startled you. Even more so when he spoke to you with an Australian accent.

"Yes, amazing indeed." You said. "But these puffer fish should be set free in the wild, not swim around in some aquarium pool in the middle of a tourist trap."

"I don't know...." The man scratched the cap he wore on top of his head. If you hadn't been so full of yourself, you might have noticed that the text on his cap read: Algarve marine life rescue and research. "Setting these bad boys free in the wild might be more dangerous than it is for us to keep them here," the man said.

"That doesn't make any sense. All animals should be set free to live in their natural habitat."

"Well, that I agree." He smiled. "However, these particular puffer fishes are used to help produce antidotes for tetrodotoxin. It's actually ongoing research."

"You're a marine biologist?" You frowned.

The man's smile widened. "Most of us working at the park are. If not in the ocean, the best place to house our underwater friends is surprisingly in this water park."

"Oh." Heat rose to your face.

"I'm glad to see a fellow animal activist, though. Whereabouts are you from? I know an Aussie accent when I hear one."

"Sydney." You blushed. "I'm from Sydney Australia."

"Brisbane." The man offered you his hand. You shook it vigorously.

"Are you just here for the summer holidays or...?" The man's accent was suddenly flourishing.

"Yes and no. I'm actually a marine biologist myself."

"Are you now?" He regarded you curiously, his smile even wider now, which you didn't think possible.

"Well, I'm still doing my masters in marine ecology. That's actually why I'm here in Portugal this summer, to finish my research in a lab not too far from here."

"In Faro?"

"How did you know?"

"Well, I believe it's the only known marine biology lab in the Algarve region."

"Really?"

"Yes, at least the only known lab that would take on a young woman like yourself. The other labs consist of snobby middle-aged men who wouldn't care to advocate for the innocent life of puffer fishes."

"Interesting. I must have gotten lucky then."

"I doubt it. I pick my students carefully. Your research portfolio must have been stellar."

"Wait—"

The man removed the cap from his head, revealing his bleach blonde hair and surprisingly young face. "I'm Gavin Philips, and I believe to be your lab partner for this summer."

"Lab....partner?" You hesitated to shake the man's hand again, however, he insisted.

"Labpartner, examinator, professor....most students just call me Gavin."

"Gavin."

"Yes, and what might your name be?"

"Erm...it's Y/N."

"Pleasure meeting you Y/N. I look forward to working with you this summer."

"Erm...thank you."

What a coincidence, you thought, during your train ride home. To meet the man with the power to decide your future as a marine biologist was definitely not on your summer bingo card. He seemed like a nice guy, though. And you had the Australia connection, which was perhaps a good thing, knowing how things could get when working in a male dominated setting. You were in need of an ally, and Gavin Phillips might just be the right guy for the job.

"There she is! Y/N, where the hell have you been all day?"

You were welcomed back by your sister and Diogo, both looking dressed for a day at the beach. Diogo, with his mountains for muscles, carried several bags from the house to his car, a luxurious Range Rover.

"What do you mean? It's barely noon." You said.

"Yes, but Diogo is taking us to Lagos today. Didn't I tell you that?"

"No, no you didn't."

"Well, I'm telling you now. Go pack your bags and don't forget to pack an extra pair of G-strings."

"Great."

You were set for another day in party paradise. However, five days had passed since your flight from Sydney, and you still hadn't gotten an ounce of a proper night's sleep.

Part 1 Part 3

[moeyynorris]

Do You Wish That You Loved Me?

Let’s Make Trouble In the Dream World - Part 4

Max Verstappen x F!Reader, Charles Leclerc x F!Reader

Warnings: angst (related to unrequainted love and break up), arguing, Google translated Dutch, emotions related to a break up/being abandoned. Oh, and this is horribly edited, so I apologize.

Master List

You tapped the key card against the metal block on the hotel room door and waited for the light to flash green. It was just after 1am, but your mind was on overdrive. You just hoped that Max was asleep, and that you wouldn’t have to discuss your decision to end what little was left of your relationship until morning.

As you opened the door, the bedside lamp flicked on. Your heart sank and every muscle filled with dread.

Shit.

“Oh, hi mijn schat. I’m glad you’re back.” Your stomach sank at his tone. He almost sounded like he did when the two of you first started dating. His voice was honest, a little groggy, but confident. “I was wondering when you would come back to me.” His lips curled into a grin as he slowly slid out from under the covers.

“Yeah, I know it’s late. But, I just took my time. I figured you would be asleep by the time I got back either way.” You gestured to the bed, clutching your phone in your free hand.

“I tried, but it was so lonely here. And I wanted to make sure you were back safe. Now, here you are.” He reached his arms out and wrapped them around you. His grip was tight, almost possessive as he pulled you against his chest. And, for some reason, you just melted into him. Was this what you were planning? Not even close.

Max pulled away a bit, peering down at you with hooded eyes. “Come lay with me, schatje. Tomorrow—uh—today will be a busy day.” The back of Max’s hand travelled slowly down your cheek. Then, he reached for your hand and pulled you to the bed.

“Max, give me a few minutes. I need to change and get ready for bed.” Your voice was stern, which made you wince. Why was it bothering you now to be harsh? He was never like this anymore. Something was up, or maybe it was just his excitement for the race?

Max nodded as he let go of you. “I’ll wait for you, then.”

You turned for the bathroom and closed the door almost all the way. Your eyes met your reflection in the mirror, and you stared for a moment, before sighing. A part of you now thought leaving Max was going to be harder than you originally believed. Sure, you weren’t in love him anymore, but he seemed to be more attentive in the last few minutes than he had been in months.

You shook your head. No. This wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to be distant and make you feel ignored and inferior, then just come snuggling back up to you. That’s not the game you were going to play.

You started brushing your teeth as your mind faded back to just over an hour ago. The feeling of Charles’ lips on yours forced your eyes to flutter close. He was so warm, so soft, so wanting. The way you felt so natural in his grasp was enough to make your body all hot again.

Your eyes shot open as a bare chest pressed against your back. You had almost forgotten Max was there with you while your mind was dwelling on Charles.

Darkened blue eyes captured you in the mirror. Max wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your back even firmer against him. You quickly finished brushing your teeth and turned to him.

“Um, can I help you?” You barked. Luckily, it came out sounding a bit sarcastic.

“What? Am I not allowed to hold my girlfriend after she gave yet another performance of the year? What’s so wrong with that?” His lips quickly found the nape of your neck and began sprinkling kisses there.

You tried your hardest to relax. You let out a long breath, focusing on the sensation, the warmth of his touch. But, there was no warmth. You felt absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, you mind shifted to Charles, the way you felt under his touch. The soothing warmth from his lips on yours, and his lightly calloused hands finding their natural places.

Natural. That was it. This didn’t feel natural anymore.

And it had to stop.

You pulled back, pressing the small of your back into the bathroom counter behind you. Max tried to follow you, but you put your hands between the two of you. He pulled back, sensing your intention.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” His eyes widened in confusion as he studied your face. You shook your head.

“Max, this feels wrong!” You blurted. You voice came out louder than you intended, but you didn’t care.

“Why? What’s wrong?” He reached a hand out that you didn’t take.

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’?” You squeezed your eyes closed, letting out a huff. “We haven’t been, I dunno, our normal selves in a while. I mean, not like what we were before. You’ve been, well—“ You paused, trying to find the right word. “Neglecting me. You know, emotionally.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. You were trying not to be mean; there was no reason to do that. But, you needed to be honest.

“Neglecting? Y/N, I—“

“Max, this doesn’t feel natural anymore,” you confessed. His face hardened a little as he processed your words.

Max’s face hardened. “You don’t love me anymore, do you?” His tone was low, blunt, almost a snarl. He was hurt, you could see that. A part of you felt guilty for it, but it wasn’t fair to drag this on.

You shook your head. “No, Max. Not the way I used to.”

“What do you mean by that?” He took another step back, a disgusted frown on his face.

“I-I love you, like I care about your wellbeing. But, I’m not in love with you anymore, Max. I’m sorry—“

“Get out,” Max spat. His whole body tensed. His lip snarled as he stared down at the ground, like he was trying not to have to look at you again.

“Max, I have nowhere to—“

“Get. Out!” He roared. You jumped, smacking your back against the counter. You winced, then tried to ignore the pain.

You glared up at him. “Max, where am I supposed to go—“

“I don’t care, Y/N. I don’t give a shit. Go find whoever you were smiling at in the crowd—“ Max’s eyes widened in realization. “I don’t care who it is. I know it’s someone else. Go find them. Maybe they’ll take you in. Either way, you’re on your own.”

Your lower jaw trembled at the thought of being on the streets of a foreign country by yourself. You knew his heart was broken. And sure, he was hurt. But that’s no reason to kick someone out in the middle of the night in a foreign country by themselves. You could sleep in the gathering room of the hotel suite, where he wouldn’t even see you…

“Max, I wasn’t—“ That was a lie. You were staring at someone else in the crowd. Hell, you kissed someone else before coming here. Maybe you deserved to be out on the streets.

No. He wasn’t the victim here. You were unhappy and treated you like a second thought. Was it wrong to kiss Charles before admitting anything to Max? Maybe, but that didn’t mean you deserved to be out on the streets in the middle of the night.

“Y/N, leave. I don’t want you here if you don’t love me.” His eyes were glassy, like he was holding back tears. You looked away.

“Fine. Just let me grab my stuff,” you deadpanned, a hint of anger behind your voice. He nodded, a scowl still clear across his face.

It only took you four minutes to fit everything you brought into your suitcase and walk out the hotel room door. There was no goodbye, not a word between the fight and your departure. But, none of that mattered. What happened needed to happen by morning. And, well, it was technically morning.

You peered down at your phone. Yeah, it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. And you had nowhere to go.

You stared down at your phone, realizing you had 9 text alerts, 3 missed calls, and a voicemail. Squinting, you pressed on the text button.

Charles Leclerc:

1:16pm: Hey, just making sure you got back ok. Maybe it is just taking you a while. Hope you are safe.

Charles Leclerc:

1:20am: Sorry to bother you again, but I just want to make sure you are safe.

There were a few more like that. Each one showing more and more concern for you. The phone call and voicemail were more of the same. But, there was something in Charles’ voice that warmed your heart. There was genuine worry there, a sincerity that you missed. No one had spoken to your like that in a long time.

You stared at your phone for another moment, studying the name of the man whose lips were mingling with yours just a few short hours before. Should you call him? Should you tell him that you were in the scenario you were in? You sucked in a breath. He would care. He does care.

You held your phone to your ear as it began to ring. A soft yet sharp voice answered you after just two rings.

“Y/N?” Charles sounded wide awake.

“Charles—“ Before you could get anything out, you began to cry. No, you sobbed. Every emotion you had been either holding back or denying over the last few hours came rushing out at once. Your chest tightened, your jaw clenched, and your legs began to fail you.

“Y/N, what’s happening?!” Charles shouted. He wasn’t angry, but there was a heavy desperation in his voice. “Y/N, please talk to me.”

You sucked in a gasp, attempting to calm yourself down. Breathe in, then out.

After a few moments, you calmed yourself down enough to get some words out.

“I left Max, and he kicked me out.” Your voice shuddered as you struggled to explain. Charles was silent for a moment before answering.

“He kicked you out? Of the hotel?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Wait, so you are out on the street right now? Where are you?” You could hear him shuffling around, then the jingle of keys.

“I’m down the street from the hotel, next to a little market with a big blue sign.”

“I will be there in ten minutes. Don’t hang up. Just keep talking to me.” Your heart fluttered at the worry in his voice.

“About what?” You sucked in a breath.

“Anything. Just keep talking to me. I’m coming to get you.”

[solohux]

Hey lottie!! I have been following you since forever and fell out of kylux for a couple years and am just coming back to it now, im so pleased to see you are still killing it!!

Just wondering if you have any recs for recent kylux fics ? Ive barely read any fics since 2021, so am lost on where to begin!! Any big ones?

(Im a sucker for angst if that helps !!!!!)

🐀💖

I've been lingering in the background of the Kylux fandom for some months and, during this time, I've been keeping up with some fic reading so I do have some recent recs for you! And also some of my favourites since 2021!

Rec is beneath the Read More <3

♦ Hold His Broken Pieces by need_more_meta (Violence, Non-Con, Canonverse, 94k words, Complete)

After Pryde discovers the identity of the spy, he decides that killing Hux would be too simple. Instead, Pryde sells Hux to human traffickers and enjoys the thought of what will be done to him. In the midst of horrific abuse inflicted on Hux’s body and mind, he stops thinking about rescue. But rescue comes—in the form of his worst enemy and his greatest love. Will Hux find a way back to himself after everything he’s been through? Will Kylo find a way forward to be the person Hux needs him to be? It’s possible—but it won’t be easy.

No, it won’t be easy at all.

♦ A Happy Wife by basaltdyke (Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Canonverse, 64k words, Complete)

You know what they say: a happy wife is a happy life. Caring for three children under four full-time is no small task. Keeping a home in order, while making sure to have dinner ready when his hardworking husband comes home, all while looking effortlessly composed, is easier said than done. Armitage Solo – dutiful wife, mother, and homemaker – is up for the challenge. All is perfectly ordered in his life, until this happy wife discovers his happy life is not what it appears.

♦ How Deep Does The Water Go by need_more_meta (No Warnings, Modern AU, 143k words, Complete)

Special Agent Armitage Hux is determined to take down Kylo Ren, a new star among cyber criminals with his deadly ransomware Dark Side. Then he gets saddled with an independent consultant Ben Solo and nothing goes exactly as planned.

♦ Conceal by Yanyangire (Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, ABO Canonverse, 330k words, Complete)

Hux has kept the fact that he is an omega hidden since he first presented almost two decades ago. However, when his suppressants suddenly stop working Hux has no choice but to seek out an alpha to spend his heat with otherwise he risks suffering serious damage to his body and possibly even death. Unfortunately for Hux the only alpha he can really turn to is none other than his co-commander, Kylo Ren. And who knows if that insufferable man will even agree to help him out or not.

♦ Hadopelagic by DustOnBothSides (Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, ABO Canonverse, 33k words, Complete)

After a life of staying pharmaceutically heat-free, Hux has to allow his body to go through at least one natural cycle, lest there be consequences. He takes a shore leave and travels to a former omegan retreat, abandoned and all but forgotten after the fall of Old Republic. Ren, not knowing of Hux's predicament, decides to follow, suspecting treason. He finds something else instead.

♦ That's Not The Future I Want by MegaraLiancourt (Violence, Canonverse, 68k words, Complete)

After the battle of Crait, Kylo Ren has a dream that he believes is premonitory: he sees the destruction of the First Order, absorbed by Palpatine's Last Order, but also his return to the light side of the Force, and then his death. Shocked by these visions, he decides to do everything possible to prevent this future from happening. He then turns to the only ‘ally’ at hand reach: a (very) broken General Hux.

♦ Negative Pressure by JayneSilver (Violence, Canonverse, 58k words, Complete)

General Hux is ordered by Supreme Leader Snoke to retrieve Kylo Ren from Starkiller Base - and of course, Hux always follows orders. But when Kylo Ren damages their shuttle on the way back to the Finalizer and they crashland on an unknown planet, orders become harder to follow.

♦ Under Construction by Kyluxtrashpit (Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Canonverse, 58k words, Complete)

When he poured the Force into Rey’s unresponsive body, he was sure he would die. He did it anyway, though, because he knew she deserved to live more than he did. Perhaps this way, he could at least do one thing that was right. But the man that had once been Ben Solo and Kylo Ren, and was now somehow both yet neither, did not die. Instead, he gifted her his power with the Force and lost his own connection completely, leaving him even more lost and empty than ever before.

♦ The Lies Still Ring by wishonadarkstar (No Warnings, ABO Canonverse with mpreg, 41k words, Complete)

Finding out he was pregnant by one of the least intolerable alphas in his acquaintance should have been a relief for Hux, who has had to scratch and scrabble for every crumb of power he has. It's too bad, then, that Kylo Ren is a monster. The fact of the matter is that Hux will do anything it takes to survive.

♦ I say your name over and over again by Antisceptic (No Warnings, Canonverse, 17k words, Complete)

Snoke made sure Ren and Hux were as far away from each other as possible. It shouldn’t matter, but Ren is obsessed and Hux needs something only Ren can give him. It’s difficult and none of your fucking buisness, thanks.

♦ Emotional Support Cat by notlikelybutpossible (No Warnings, Canonverse, 15k words, Complete)

Kylo Ren wasn't expecting to form a bond with Millicent, his irritating co-commander's cat. But to be fair, if anyone on the Finalizer needs an emotional support animal, it's him...

♦ These Rhinestone Eyes by Pizzaslut (No Warnings, Modern AU with Strip Clubs, 15k words, Complete)

Armitage Hux couldn't pinpoint when his primary source of comfort had become his own reflection staring back at him from a glossy stage floor. Even now, as he tipped his face towards the shiny floor he had stood on not two seconds ago while he twirled upside down by the sheer power of his thighs holding him up on the pole, Hux knew this was infinitely a thousand times better than the sight that would greet him if he looked up.

♦ Bloodied Hands by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles (No Warnings, Canonverse, 1.8k words, Complete)

After a mission gone wrong, Kylo does the only thing he's good at: destruction. Yet as he rains down attacks on First Order equipment, his lightsaber becomes unstable and damages his hands. Even the pain and blood aren't enough to quiet the hateful voices raging in his head. Silence only comes when Hux grasps Kylo's bloodied hands and tells him it will be alright.

♦ Chew Toy by NylonRabbit (Chose Not TO Use Archive Warnings, Canonverse, 2.9k words, Complete)

Terrified of his pending execution at the hands of Snoke, Hux pleads for Ren to save him…

♦ Dreamscapes by JayneSilver (Violence, Canonverse, 17k words, Complete)

Dreams are treacherous places. Kylo Ren loses his place in his sleep, then finds his way.

♦ Stargazing by Kittens (No Warnings, Fantasy AU, 102k words, Complete)

Brendol has arranged to marry Armitage off to his own benefit. Armitage has no idea who he is to marry, but he is certain they will be just as terrible as Brendol. But there's a lot he doesn't know about his new husband. He only needs to give him a chance.

♦ The Only Hell I Know Is Without You by Aethir (Violence, Canonverse, 60k words, Complete)

After crash-landing on a mysterious planet, Hux and Kylo find themselves stranded in an arena of death and destruction. They must survive the wilderness together; they must survive captivity together. Beholden to the whims of a sadistic Overseer, both of them face two very different battles, one of wills, and one of blood and bone. It’s made worse by the Overseer’s hatred of Hux, and by Kylo’s deteriorating hold on his sanity as he’s cut off from the Force. As each day passes their chances of escape dwindle, but they will not be deterred. They will bleed. They will fight. They will destroy. But ultimately, they will win.

[brainrockets]

Some of the Suvi critics out there are... something. I mean, I get it if you don't enjoy media because of unpleasantness. I very definitely avoided Succession because it squicked me deeply.

So if Suvi squicks ya out. Like sure fine. But some of the interpretations of Suvi being irredeemable or 'not showing signs' that she might be 'redeemable' are just weird? To me?

I mean. I also was raised in one of the cristofascist American evangelical death cults and had to deprogram and unlearn a lot in my 20s and have done a lot of work to be in a healthy space now so... maybe I just have sympathy for being 20 and just suddenly seeing cracks appear in the way you understand yourself and the world around you?

One thing people seem real perturbed by is Suvi's behavior towards Ame (and Ame's seeming lack of correction of that behavior).

And I think there are a few things at play here.

1. Suvi was raised in a highly ordered hierarchy as a soldier from early childhood.

2. Ame is a witch of the heart and has been handling all manner of village nonsense and nonsense people for years.

3. Suvi has not had ANY sort of psychological safety or release since maybe the Cottage. She is more afraid of Steel than Orima.

4. Ame is worried about Suvi. Worried about the way she killed without trouble. The way she's not allowed herself to express feelings for the most part other than anger.

5. When you have a lot of feelings and no safe way to let them out. They still come out. Usually inappropriately. Often paradoxically they get vented on people you feel safe with. Not to say that's acceptable or good but it is pretty normal?

6. Paradoxically, while Ame is safe to be mad at, perhaps subconsciously, Suvi also views Ame as a threat. And she's not wrong. Ame is a huge threat to her. Ame threatens to upend everything that Suvi believes about herself, about magic, about her world. She also plays by different rules and has actively exposed Suvi to risk by divulging things Suvi wanted to keep private. (Not with malice but definitely flagrantly flouting basic rules because she doesn't know they exist.) She also is a threat to the defenses Suvi has built around herself in the wake of her parents' deaths. The way that she has used the notion of the Citadel's correctness as a shield against the pain of loss.

7. I think Ame has dealt with wounded animals and wounded people fairly regularly in her role as apprentice. I think that Ame knows that wounded creatures snap at someone even if they are trying to help. Snapping back at her isn't maybe the move right now. And she has expressed dissent, she's not leaving her nonsense totally alone. She's just carefully cutting away little pieces of net and tutting at her raging and getting a little closer each time. And when Suvi finally lets herself cry instead of rage, Ame reacts with the same patient care she'd use with an injured animal.

8. Also, i do think people are missing Suvi's actions behind her words. Particularly vis a vis redeemable qualities. She does talk mad shit and she says some truly terrible things. But her actions are in conflict with her words. She abandoned her training and her responsibility to help Ame break her curse. He outfitted her friends from the armory and rented out a whole floor of an inn just to be kind. She's kept silent on Honored Friends the entire time she's been at the Citadel. Steel told her to stay and wait but she ran after Ame anyways. She was making a lot of threats but now that Eursulon has promised to free the Great Spirit her only issue with helping do it is that Steel might kill her first. She is ready to throw down for her friends with extreme prejudice.

She's at a crossroads. I find it very hopeful. But like again, I relate pretty heavily to being young and afraid and angry as the world opens up before you and everything you thought you knew is wrong and harming people. Knowing there's a chasm and on one side is your family and your community and on the other side is the unknown and your friends.

[punkzines]

TFP SOUNDWAVE X READER SHORT

reader just loves aliens.kinda.

a/n: let me just say this has been sitting in my drafts for like months…i might make this into mult. chapters…

In a moment of fear you had tried to escape, free yourself from the tight grasp of a tentacle-like cord that made itself oddly comfortable around your waist. It was mad, the whole situation seemed unreal.

But it was real.

How much you wish it wasn’t.

You couldn’t believe you were planning on doing something so reckless, so foolish. But it had to be done. There were too many rumors, too many sightings— consequences and conspiracies. You needed to do something, find out the truth.

You were a simple being, driven by curiosity and the thirst of knowledge. Knowledge wasn’t something you obtained easily though, as you were a low income student going to a local community college: Jasper, Nervada College. You had limited resources, oftentimes your power or internet ran out. But that was the reason why you went out. And why you are doing what you’re doing.

As of recent years, many people have reported sightings of UFO’s lurking around Jasper, Nevada. At first, you couldn’t consider the possibility. It was absurd, what would aliens want to do with Earth out of all the other planets that are so much better? But then— power outages, numerous reports— videos and photos that couldn’t be explained, and seemed too real to be edited, brought you a certain type of thrill you just simply couldn’t ignore.

So, you did what anyone would do, you’ve spent the last two years researching, and investigating. Looking around sites strangely suddenly closed by the government, staying up late because what alien wouldn’t wander around the night where they couldn’t be spotted? You collected newspapers, anything that would help. You admit, you never really found any evidence. There were times you thought you saw something strange at a car garage, some tall dark figure far away from a cliff, everything was so close yet you never actually got anywhere. Dead ends were becoming so common.

The drought of information made you consider giving up— what was the point? If there really were aliens, what could you hope to ever do with that information? Would you expose them? Profit off of them? You were in debt. But like always, the thoughts holding you back were the ones that brought you a step forward. You don’t know how they did it but they did. You were just magical like that.

For the past 6 months you’ve been contemplating on sneaking into an old, unused military base(you don't recall why it was abandoned, but maybe it was something you could now find out!) It was the dumbest yet smartest thing you’ve thought about doing. You planned on using your skills and gathering any information you could. Anything, who knows, maybe your tech skills would’ve been useful. You were at risk of being found out, jailed, but you were certain the place wasn’t used anymore— you’ve been watching it for some time already after getting off from college and work. You also had nothing to lose.

But of course, life ends up biting you in the ass. The fucking alien had to come to the same place as you did AND at the same time.

The tall metallic soulless creature brings you up rather quickly (giving you a scary view of its entire body) to its head— or what you assume is its head— and simply stares at you. Your head is spinning, things are happening too quick, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Compared to your heavy breathing, you’re not even sure you can sense it breathing.

“Let me go!” The demand practically goes unheard, as the robot creature does not stop its actions, but instead a purple light passes up and down your body, much like a scanner. You can’t let that stop your struggles.

You trashed around the grasp, elbowing, punching, anything to set you free. It was futile- escaping from the grasp, you knew it, yet you still tried. Briefly, you see some type of statistical analysis, if that’s what you could even call it— written in some type of strange code you’ve never seen before until you spot something familiar— your face.

You paused your attempts, body going still stricken with a deep feeling of dread. “What are you doing?” You asked, voice breaking down in fear. Was it information about you? Was it going to send it to someone? What if all this time you’ve been wrong and you’ve just stepped into some military government trap? This couldn’t be…

The screen goes blank. Your heart sinks as you see your reflection on the screen. You two were the only ones in this dark room, but the silence was so strong, it felt as if there was a third presence.

You couldn’t breathe— you were going to die. You really didn’t want to jump into conclusions so quickly, but if this robot was what you’ve been trying to prove was here on Earth… you were certain your death would be coming any second now.

Just as you thought of your goodbyes to the world and anyone who had been remotely kind to you, the cord around your waist starts to make its grasp harder on your waist, knocking out any air. It hurt.

In instinct you suck in your stomach but it does not alleviate the pain. Crying out in pain you try to escape the grasp, however the pain makes it hard to do so. You wanted this to be over— “If you’re going to kill me, at least make it painless-” You choke out, but are cut short when another cord hrabs your face harshly— gripping it tightly.

Your vision is gone, and your senses heightened. Why is this happening to me?You move your hands from the cord on your waist to the one on your face, trying to remove it.

It was getting harder to breathe, you figure from the lack of oxygen you're getting. Punching the cord wasn’t working, it hasn’t been. You were trapped.

Your body betrays you as your heartbeat begins to slow down, your eyes start growing heavy. Your hands fall from the cord connected to your face as you go limp.

[lord-of-hollows]

The Ongoing Hostilty of the Stormcloak Debate

If you're the kind of person who has their politics dictated to them by social media algorithms, it's easy to write off the Stormcloaks. After all, you were told they were Fascist badmen by a reddit user so clearly this must be correct. However, with things coming to light, I have to say that if you're the kind of person who is Anti-Stormcloak but also supports a free Palestine? You're clearly not putting any thought into your own beliefs and I'm not interested in having conversations with people who don't put thought into their own beliefs.

The Imperial argument has been debunked as far back as 2011. They've changed and modified it how they say it but the core pillars have not changed in the past years.

1. The Empire brings peace and stability to Tamriel.

This one's just untrue. Even at the height of Imperial power there were rebellions, succession crises, wars and large stretches of land in "uncivilised" nations that were just ungoverned. Not to mention, it was under Imperial governance that the Aldmeris Dominion rose. The Empire never brought any kind of stability that lasted more than like, a decade.

2. "The Empire is the best chance for victory against the Thalmor."

Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. Imperial supporters seem wonderfully willing to assert this and then immediately launch into a non-sequiter and act as if this proves the Empire has a chance.

The last Imperial victory against the Thalmor lead to Hammerfell being abandoned, religious reform being enforced by their enemy, and Thalmor Gestapo being allowed to roam the Empire wantonly executing Imperial citizens with no due process. If that's a victory you better hope you don't find out what defeat looks like.

3. "Stormcloaks are racist."

I don't believe they're extraordinarily racist for Tamriel, but let's assume they are. However I invite Imperial supporters to also look at the Empire.

"Without us to keep order, the provinces would fall to lawlessness and barbarism."

The Empire at the outset feels that a dominant culture is needed for others to function. More than that, they feel that their culture is justifiably supreme to enforce their will on others. If they didn't feel this was true, they wouldn't be an Empire.

You cannot argue that the Stormcloaks are racist and then handwave the racism of the Empire. You have to pick one. Either it's a negative or isn't. Then we have to identify which of these is more racist.

Imperialists like to point out that the Stormcloaks don't like to let Argonians into the city. This isn't true, my Argonian walked into Windhelm just fine.

"But thats just a game mechanic." - Yeah and the Orc strongholds only let a non-Orc in if you impress Orcs. So you're telling me that Bethesda went out of the way to care about the player characters race in the Strongholds but just kinda stopped caring when it came to the major city of one of the two factions in the war?

I mean, they're lazy, but come on. You can't tell me they're not putting in the effort when you can point at a spot they're putting in that self-same effort for content less players will see.

And even if it were true, under the empire Argonians and Khajiit were enslaved in Morrowind because the Dunmer had a superweapon to trade. So the Empire just turned a blind eye to slavery because "Fuck you, got mine."

But again why would they care about the enslavement of what to their eyes were barbaric races of inferior culture. The use of the word Empire isn't an accident.

And this is why it's so frustrating to talk to Imperial supporters. They easily cast aspersions on the Stormcloaks but when you turn a mirror on them suddenly they stop wanting to discuss.

If you want to call the Stormcloaks racist, you can. They are certainly at least as racist as the norm for Tamriel. If you want to argue it as a reason for siding with the Empire then either you don't know about the Empire or you're being disingenuous.

4. "The Empire keeps the Thalmor out of Skyrim."

This one is asserted by many characters ingame. It's a lie.

In Imperial controlled holds Thalmor Gestapo wander around and can attempt to execute you on the spot if they decide to. No trial. Imperial guards do not rush to help you fight them off. They just stand and stare. In a Stormcloak victory these random encounters stop happening in all holds. I'm not sure about the one where they send Assassins as this encounter generally happens before a Stormcloak victory, but it happens.

As Thalmor only show up in Imperial controlled holds, the only reasonable conclusion to draw is the Empire is what keeps the Thalmor in Skyrim.

5. The Thalmor want Ulfric to win.

No they don't. They said that they didn't. Read their dossier.

6. Ulfric is a Thalmor asset.

An uncooperative asset. The Empire is a cooperative asset.

It's been made clear to me over the years that supporting the Imperial argument is unjustifiable on a moral level and irresponsible on the level of governance.

7. Ulfric as a character is power hungry and only in it for himself.

Assuming this is true...

So?

The Empire is power hungry, as evidenced by the fact that they are an Empire. Are they in it for themselves? Well, if they arent then who do you think they're doing it for?

You're not making an argument against the Stormcloaks.

However I argue that the cause is more than its leader. The Stormcloaks are in it for their own reasons and as a ruler Ulfric must satisfy them. Why wouldn't he? They're one of the pillars to his power, if he can't make them happy he loses any status they give him.

Power is not a permanent thing, you gain it, you lose it.

Now on a meta level I take role-playing rules, the true faction you should support is the faction that's right for your character. I have played characters that supported the Imperial cause. My Orc warrior always wanted to be a legionnaire. My Redoran Dunmer felt resentment toward Ulfric so begrudgingly sided with the Empire out of feeling a mutual enemy. My Breton Knight felt loyalty to the Old Empire.

Despite this, as a human looking at a fantasy world, I cannot look at the Imperial argument with any seriousness.

However since 2011 here are some assumptions made about me by Imperialists.

1. I'm racist.

Probably, I hear nobody is completely free of racist thought. I like to think that I'm less racist than most, though I'm open to the idea that I may be more racist than I assume.

2. I like Trump.

I don't. I think he's a wonderful caricature of what an idiot thinks a high power businessman acts like. I find him funny, but I would never want him in charge of my country and I'm thankful to not be American. I think his presidency is a wonderful argument people like me who live in countries with mandatory voting can point at and say "This is why you don't want 100% voter turnout."

3. I was involved in GamerGate

Insofar as paying attention to it and not believing they're 100% wrong. Yes. I've had no faith in journalism since I myself was a child. To know that a journalist was sleeping with the subject of his articles was unsurprising, even expected. You might say its just fucking video games, and you'd be right. I would ask if you can not trust journalists with just fucking video games, what can you trust them with?

And that was my answer to the whole GamerGate thing. Journalism has never been a profession a person with any expectation of realism should respect. The amount of times I've been reading an article and it turned out the writer knew nothing is staggering.

The answer of course, is don't give journalists money. And that's as far as I ever took it.

However participating in a harassment campaign? No. I've never sent a message to any game developer or journalist I didn't like. I have, as a young man, sent cringe fan mail to Hideki Kamiya telling him I'm a fan of all his work. The same goes for Kojima and Yoko Taro.

My disappointment in GamerGate was that it's supporters never made that step into ignoring journalists and refusing them money. They continued sharing their articles.

4. I'm a fascist.

I think in order to make this argument you have to ignore a lot about the Empire. Like, a lot. They rely on exploitation of the provinces, rule by might as evidenced by the Legion being the only thing keeping Skyrim from a full succession, benefited from slavery and were built on the back of a war of conquest. When their power was broken just about the only thing keeping them together was wealth. I do not have it in me to respect power built like that.

They're a mirror of Rome, certainly. I put it to you that Rome was an exploitative Empire that irreparably damaged every culture it touched.

It's for these reasons I've now decided that in order for me to engage with an Imperial supporters arguments, they have to first prove to me they put enough thought into their beliefs to justify them. They also have to prove they play the game enough to know things about it. For instance most imperial supporters act like they don't know the Thalmor want to avoid a victory for either side.

That's kind of why I'm thankful the Stormcloak debate got so hostile. It provided a wonderful litmus test on who actually thinks about what they believe. I saw an account posting Anti-Stormcloak arguments, then I clicked on it to see what theyre like and saw that they had Free Palestine posts and I just had to stop and think for a moment. I've been treating Imperials as if they understand their own beliefs. Then I realised they're probably just very young and don't spend a lot of time thinking about it. I can't do that anymore.

And that's really what the Imperial Stormcloak debate taught me about politics. Well, about social media politics. You cannot enter these arguments assuming that the people you're speaking to understand their own beliefs. You have to assume that anyone who wants to talk politics with you online doesn't understand politics. Because most of them don't. You see, I don't listen to people who were right wing up until 2016 and then made the switch as Trump was being elected. They call it a deradicalization, I call it your politics being dictated you by social media. If YouTube algorithm changed the way you view the world, I don't want to hear from you. Your principles are fragile. If your recommended videos can twist your beliefs in such a way, I believe you're not going to say anything I haven't heard before. Go regurgitate Contrapoints to someone else. And it's these same people who will tell you the Empire is the only morally acceptable choice.

I know based on what I've said you've made assumptions about my politics, I'm not going to elaborate on them. Suffice it to say if you're basing your assumptions of other peoples political beliefs based on a choice they believe is right in a fictional fantasy role playing video game, you are probably not really equipped to be having conversations about politics. It also displays a concerning level of assumption.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 14/34 - styrofoam gravestones

[Read on AO3]

Skinner gleefully calls their joint adventure to Los Angeles a “honeymoon,” though Scully is sure no one else would consider the movie they'd just been subjected to a worthy use of their time if it had been.

‘Worse than anticipated’ might come close to describing it, actually. 

The trip itself is fine. The insinuation that this is their honeymoon (from their boss, no less) causes them to blush. Skinner knows he's making it weird, which is probably why he keeps teasing them about it every time he sees them. Thankfully, despite the awkward hazing, their boss sets them up with separate rooms.

And apparently has given them free reign of the Bureau credit card for the evening. 

The piece of plastic is burning a hole in her pocket as Scully goes out in search of her partner following the premiere. The studio lot looks much the same as it had when they'd visited before, over a year ago. Even some of the sets are still up, probably from last minute reshoots, and it's here that she finds Mulder, seated amongst the styrofoam gravestones and fake grass.

He'd taken the movie harder than she had, she thinks. After all, it's his life's work they're making a mockery of, not really hers. She's much more bothered by the bizarre love triangle the filmmakers somehow worked in, wondering how on earth they'd come to that conclusion in their short time together.

Mulder had disappeared after a particularly ridiculous scene taking place in a coffin, abandoning her to a sheepish-looking Skinner, who handed over the credit card without a word as soon as the credits rolled.

But now she sees him, and he's not moping like she'd expected after seeing him walk out of the theater in a huff.

Instead, he's staring straight ahead, frozen like one of the statues in the middle of the fake cemetery, seemingly lost in thought.

“Been looking all over for you,” she says, taking a seat beside him on the artificial hill.

“Yeah. Sorry I left. I couldn't take it anymore,” he answers, his blank stare never wavering. 

“That's saying a lot, coming from you,” she jokes, nudging against him with her shoulder. “I'm pretty sure your tolerance for bad sci-fi movies is higher than most.”

He doesn't respond, and it's then that she notices his open cell phone laying in his hand.

“You okay?” she asks. 

He looks down at his own hand as if seeing it for the first time, and snaps the device shut.

“I, uh—” he starts, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “While I was out here, I got a call.”

A knot of anxiety twists in her stomach. That call could be from any number of people, and she can’t tell from his expression what it might have been about. He's shaken, that much is clear.

She suddenly wishes she hadn't eaten a full bowl of popcorn in the theater.

“They tried calling you first,” he continues. “But your phone was on silent during the movie.”

Her eyebrows furrow and she hurries to dig her cell phone out of her purse, checking the display.

2 missed calls.

“Mulder, who—”

“The adoption agency,” he says, cutting her off, and it feels like the floor drops out from beneath her.

She's breathing, but it doesn't feel like she's getting any air. It's impossible to tell if it's good news or bad news yet, but her voice has suddenly stopped working and she can't bring herself to ask.

His hand finds hers, grasping on tightly.

“They approved our application, pending a home visit,” he says, a disbelieving smile beginning to form on his lips.

“They did?” she asks breathlessly, and he nods.

“And there's more.”

What more could there possibly be? She feels like crying, but she doesn't know if she can. The whirlwind of emotions is overwhelming.

“They found someone,” he says. “A possible match.”

That does it. A watery smile pulls at her cheeks, and she can hardly believe it, except she trusts this man with her entire being and he would never lie to her.

“That quick?” she asks.

He nods again. “They said they know it's fast, but the plans for the last placement fell through and they need someone who can be ready in the next four months or so.”

“Four months?”

“A young woman, already five months pregnant.”

She can't help it, she leans forward and wraps him in a crushing hug, throwing her arms over his shoulders and holding on. He holds her just as tight, and she feels his beaming smile in the crook of her neck, matching her own.

“Why didn't you come get me?” she gasps into his ear, absolutely certain she's never been this happy in her entire life.

“I wanted to,” he says, amusement lacing his voice. “My legs stopped working as soon as I heard the words ‘application’ and ‘approved’ and I had to sit down.”

This draws a laugh from deep in her chest, and she pulls him even tighter, cupping her hand over the back of his head and running her fingers through his hair.

When she finally pulls back, she sees his eyes filled with tears of joy, and she knows her own look the same.

“Really?” she asks, needing to clarify. Wanting to hear him say it again. And then maybe again later.

“Yeah, Scully,” he says, gripping her hands in his own. “Really.”

Suddenly, the movie doesn't seem so bad anymore. Who cares, it'll tank anyway. They have better things to worry about.

They're going out to celebrate, and Skinner can pick up the tab. It may not be their honeymoon, but it's a celebration of their relationship nonetheless, a culmination of their time as partners and the beginning of their journey toward becoming parents.

She stands determinedly, pulling Mulder to his feet and interlocking her arm with his, grinning up at him giddily.

“Let's go,” she says, flashing the credit card proudly.

He gladly takes it from her, laughing freely as they begin to stumble out of the graveyard arm in arm.

“Scully,” he says, tossing his cheap plastic Lazarus Bowl behind him as they walk. “Promise me you're not in love with Associate Producer Walter Skinner?”

-.-.-

It's just a week later when a knock on Scully's apartment door signals the arrival of the representative from the adoption agency for the home visit. They'd spent the week frantically getting things in order in their limited time after work, finally integrating the items brought over from Mulder's apartment with her own. Mulder had even gotten one of the pictures from their courthouse wedding framed, and it held a place of honor on top of the fireplace mantle in the living room.

Every time she passes it, she feels her heart skip a beat. There are precious few pictures of the two of them together, and that one is the most special of them all. It makes her feel like she has that “normal” life she'd asked him about, once—though of course there is nothing normal about this arrangement they have. 

“Mulder, she's here. Is everything ready?” she says, feeling slightly queasy.

“Ready, Scully,” he answers, and she shoots him a look.

They'd talked about this at length already, so he should know better. “You can’t call me that, remember?”

He tilts his head downward challengingly, the exaggerated eye contact sending a shiver up her spine, and she knows what's coming before the word leaves his mouth.

“Dana,” he breathes in a low rasp, smirking at her visible reaction to how odd it still feels to hear her given name spoken aloud outside of the most dire circumstances.

Oh boy.

“What exactly will you be calling me? Fox?” he asks next, moving to adjust one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

“I seriously don’t think I can,” she answers. “I’ll think of something, but if I have to, I suppose I will.”

“You know, you’re the only person who’s ever listened to me and not called me Fox, I think,” he comments, his eyes tracking her as she approaches the door. “Other than maybe the Gunmen.”

“And now it just sounds completely wrong coming out of my mouth, so I won’t be doing it anytime soon if I can help it,” she says in a clipped tone, knowing the caseworker is waiting right on the other side of the wall.

“I appreciate that.”

She rolls her eyes, which only makes his smile brighten. “Shut up and get over here,” she says, jerking her head toward the doorway. 

He readily obeys, sliding into place beside her with his arm over her shoulders before she opens the door to the woman on the other side.

“Ms. Koske, hi! Come on in,” Scully says, far more cheerily than her usual affect. 

Mulder catches her eyes, and they flash in warning. Cool it down, they say. Be yourself. She'll do her best to take his advice, but it's hard. This is a key moment in their already fraught path to parenthood. She doesn't want to mess it all up with one small mistake. Not after they've come this far.

“Good to see you, Ms. Scully,” Ms. Koske greets her with a smile and a nod as she enters. “Mr. Mulder.”

“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?” She needs something to do with her hands, so she shoves them in her pockets, hoping the answer will be yes so she can distract herself from her nerves.

“I’m alright, but thank you,” Brenda says politely. “Maybe after you’ve shown me around a little?”

Thankfully, Mulder takes the reins after that, probably sensing her unease. 

“Of course, right this way, Ms. Koske,” he says, separating himself from her side—a loss which she feels acutely. He leads the woman further into the apartment, winking at Scully behind her back as he goes.

Scully takes a deep breath, collecting herself. She's not sure why she's so nervous. She and Mulder have read every piece of adoption planning literature they could get their hands on, and quadruple checked that they had everything right before today. Still, she'll always be the one to worry that they missed something.

Thankfully, Mulder keeps cool under pressure. At least in situations like this.

“Any pets?” Brenda is asking him by the time Scully catches up to them in the hallway. She can see that the woman already has a half a page full of notes on her clipboard, not that she can make out any of it.

“Just my fish,” Mulder answers easily. “Although, Sc– Dana had a dog a few years ago.”

Scully clears her throat, deciding now is the time to jump in and be an active participant in this visit.

“Maybe we could get another one after we move to a bigger house, hmm?” she asks. Mulder’s unamused expression is exactly what she was hoping for, but he quickly schools it before Ms. Koske can see. 

She's partially teasing about getting a dog—payback for him blindsiding her with the ‘new house’ idea at their previous interview. But it might be nice, someday. 

Besides, he can’t exactly say no right now, can he?

She grins.

“Whatever you want, my love,” he responds, his overly saccharine smile telling her, ‘two can play that game.’

“How long have you been keeping fish, Mr. Mulder?” Brenda asks, oblivious to the subtle unspoken conversation happening right over her head. She stoops to look at the mollies with interest, tilting her head in response to the U.F.O. themed decor.

“Oh, uh, probably over a decade now,” Mulder answers, turning his attention back to their guest and his gleaming fish tank, in its prized new location.

Brenda raises her eyebrows, scratching something on her clipboard. 

“Impressive. They’re more work to take care of than most people think,” she speaks, and Scully hopes that translates to ‘If you can keep a fish alive, you can definitely handle a human child,’ even if the logic there isn't exactly sound.

Off the hallway, next Mulder shows her to the bathroom, which had been meticulously cleaned the day before. Scully doesn't know how someone could make such a mess with toothpaste, but Mulder’s tooth brushing quirks like squeezing the toothpaste tube wrong have been a constant pain in her neck since he started sleeping over. At least that's the worst of her worries. Otherwise, he's been a very agreeable living partner, even putting his shoes away instead of leaving them out after the time she almost tripped on them with an armful of groceries.

Brenda peeks inside cabinets and checks the bathtub, annotating as she goes on her clipboard.

“Are your medicines kept secure and in a child-safe place?” she asks, looking to Scully.

“Yes, I was a doctor before I left to join the FBI,” she answers readily. “I can assure you that I know all the dangers and keep them stored safely.”

Brenda nods, seemingly impressed. 

“A doctor,” she says. “Do you have any experience with children’s medicine?”

Scully shakes her head. “Just a rotation in med school,” she answers honestly. She knows realistically that this won't impact her chances of adopting, but still she wishes she had a better answer. “I, uh… went in a different direction.”

The woman smiles. “Not a problem, I was just curious. It’s good to hear that you have a background in medicine, that will certainly help.” Scully lets out a sigh of relief as Brenda scrawls something down, then turns her attention to her partner. “Mr. Mulder, what did you do before the FBI?”

The question catches Mulder off guard, and he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Oh, I– I got recruited not long after I completed my degree in psychology.”

“Did you ever practice?” Brenda asks.

“No, I didn’t.”

“But, I’m sure you have a general understanding of children’s psychology from your studies, yes?”

Scully looks to Mulder, curious about his answer herself.

“I do, yeah,” he says. “But, actually, most of my knowledge in that… area… comes from personal experience.”

The caseworker nods in understanding. “I hope you don’t mind my asking… I know this is a little less formal than our last interview, but I’d still like to be thorough.” The implication that he should expound on his answer is clear.

“No, I understand,” he says, nodding. “Uh, when I was twelve, my little sister disappeared. She was never found, and it… tore my family apart. I spent most of my adolescence bouncing between therapists until I went off to college in England.”

Brenda gives a sad shake of her head and makes a note.

“You two have quite a history,” she says, unmistakable traces of pity in her voice. “I can see why you were drawn to each other, and why you’re looking to start a family.”

Scully catches Mulder’s eye, and they share a look. This woman doesn't know the half of it, but she's right. Their bond is rooted deeper than most, deeper even than the average married couple.

All they want now is to move forward with their lives. To have a spot of sunshine after years of darkness and suffering. Somehow, that desire turned into the dream of starting a family, and it's hard to believe how far they've come in a few short months.

“I think I’ve seen enough in here,” Ms. Koske says, breaking the sullen silence that had fallen. “Would you mind showing me your room?”

“Of course,” Scully says, smiling a forced smile as she leads the way. “Our room.”

Because it is their room, as far as Brenda needs to be concerned. She doesn’t need to know that Mulder actually sleeps on the bed that’s in the spare bedroom, now that it’s been moved from his apartment. All it took was moving a few more of his personal belongings into Scully’s room and making his room look like a guest room, and their little white lie was perfected.

“Looks like you’ve got a good variety of reading material, here,” Brenda says, eyes trailing over the bookshelf. “Medical journals, Moby Dick … The Truth About Extraterrestrial Life Forms. That one’s… unique.”

“My husband is a big fan of science fiction,” Scully says, the explanation coming easily to her. She even managed to use the word “husband” without stuttering over it, for once. Easier than saying “Fox,” in all honesty.

When she looks up at said husband, though, he's suppressing an amused smile, and she shakes her head, her cheeks undoubtedly flushing pink.

Brenda nods at her answer, smiling warmly as she stands back up to her full height. “Yes, I can see that. You’ll have to make some space for children’s literature. They’re classics, but I love to recommend Dr. Seuss.”

Scully’s heart twists, and Mulder’s eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly, a meaningful look passing between them in the span of a second.

She doesn't want to get her hopes up yet, but…

“I’ll buy a whole other bookshelf, if I have to,” Mulder says eagerly, chuckling softly, and Scully feels herself fall even deeper in love with him.

Brenda pats him on the arm, an approving smile stretching her cheeks. 

“Now, that’s what I like to hear.”

-.-.-

The rest of the tour goes smoothly, and Brenda takes Scully up on her offer for tea prior to her departure.

The conversation topics are decidedly lighter as they sip on the warm drinks. Mulder regales her with tales of growing up on Martha's Vineyard, keeping things in the safer territory of beach days and riding bikes, rather than touching on his home life. 

Before long, their cups are empty and they get to their feet, moving slowly toward the apartment door.

“Well, everything looks good here,” Brenda says, tucking her clipboard into her bag. “Clean, not too small, good neighborhood, healthy food. Shouldn’t be too difficult to childproof, for however long you plan to stay here. And, your experience in medicine and psychology should certainly work in your favor.” 

Scully reaches a hand out and finds Mulder's, and he must have been searching for hers too, because he's right there, clasping her palm in his. 

“I have no qualms recommending you to our birth mother,” Brenda declares with a beaming smile. “I’m sure we’ll be able to set up a meeting with her soon.”

She grabs Scully’s hand for a cordial handshake, then shakes Mulder's, and all the while Scully can scarcely move or breathe. Had she heard that correctly? They were really going to get a shot at this?

For the first time, she lets herself envision them with a child. Baby toys scattered on the living room carpet. Mushy baby food lining the shelves of her pantry. Mulder as a father, ever the involved parent like he says he wants to be.

That was something she hadn't ever truly allowed herself to imagine. Not even when embryos bearing his DNA had been implanted into her womb, while he waited supportively in the waiting area.

For the first time, it's real, and she can barely hold herself together.

Mulder thanks the woman for them both, smiling broadly as he opens the door for her, but Scully can't hear them over the sound of her heart racing. She manages to mumble a thank you and goodbye before the apartment door closes, unable to muster anything more substantial than that.

And the moment they're alone, tears erupt from her eyes, hot and wet on her cheeks.

Mulder doesn't waste a second pulling her into his arms, holding her tight to his chest. She feels herself being lifted a few inches off the ground, and he buries his face in her shoulder, grasping her securely around the waist. 

She can't speak, can't do anything but cry into his shoulder and picture their life together. Beyond the X-Files, beyond alien abductions and missing sisters. Finally, finally beyond manipulative ex-girlfriends and smoky shadow governments, who now lie in dirt and ashes.

There's a life for them, beyond, and she wants it now more than she ever thought she would.

“One step closer,” Mulder whispers into her neck, his voice choked with emotion.

She can only nod and hold him tighter in response.

~~~

Note: Apparently Hollywood A.D. takes place in January 2000?? I'm going with it.

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

[sasukeless]

recently (like two months ago) I saw an SS and her moots talk about Sakura's confession "it's been years and people still misunderstand this moment" and also adding that she thinks she should explain the moment in detail some day to people who don't get it lol

sakura’s confession is smth i try to avoid talking because honestly a really big part of the hate it gets is due misogyny and men with r/niceguy complex that are actually more mad that sakura never ended up falling for naruto than anything else. so i try to not get into it.

however i still think acting like the whole confession is just her being a good friend and thus this action should be free of criticism is a very empty take

yeah, sakura believes her confession is for a good reason because she’s trying to protect naruto but it still doesn’t make the whole thing less messed up. she is trying to manipulate and lying to him after all and no matter if it’s for his own good or not that’s still a pretty shitty thing to do to your friend. and it gets even worse when you actually realize what her thinking process was here because her whole confession is just her thinking that since she has “feelings” for him now, naruto will suddenly be okay with his best friend being killed. it’s honestly a very shallow view she has of him and shows how little she understands naruto (ppl often say nrsk is the better ship because they spend so much time together but what’s the point if even after all that time she doesn’t get him at all?). and the whole confession fiasco could’ve ended there but the fact that she hears naruto stating that he STILL wants to save sasuke and she decides to go against his wishes and plans to kill sasuke behind naruto’s back anyway is just. ? people bring up the fact that she did this because she didn’t know about the massacre but naruto prior knowing about the massacre was still begging on his knees for sasuke’s life.

and it’s not the first time sakura tries to use her feelings to manipulate others. her two confessions to sasuke are also about using her feelings for him to get him to abandon his goals. you either accept this is just part of her character or you just don’t really like her canon self and also take away some of the nuance she has in favor of making her a flawless person

but Anyway. the fact that any time the confession gets talked about every incel comes out of the cave to act like it’s a crime that sakura isn’t romantically interested in naruto and that’s why hinata is the superior fc everr makes any possible discussion about this scene annoying

[noicevibes]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧

note -> pls accept this little Scaramouche/gn!reader blurb from last year as an apology for being bad at updating? it was part of the original version of Heartstrings, but the plot has since changed anyway, so... ya.

warnings -> none; takes place after the delusion factory chapter in Inazuma; reader is a Fatui executive under Scaramouche with a vision that can heal...

words -> 1.9k

“You…” Your hands having risen instinctively at his appearance, you swallow thickly awhile trying to come up with a not-so-suspicious greeting. “Lord Scaramouche, sir, I-I… What are you doing here, sir?”

Arms crossed, chin raised, and eyebrow cocked, “I’ll have you answer that very same question for me. What business did you have at the Grand Narukami Shrine after dealing with the Traveler?”

“Er… being in Inazuma has left me feeling more spiritually inclined than normal, sir, so… I-I’ve decided to take up on religion,” you mumble flatly, immediately inwardly cursing at yourself for spouting such a shitty lie.

“Funny. Try again.” You sigh at him.

“I’d heard once… that you had ties here in Inazuma,” you start, your tone quieter than usual. “Rather than bother you with my questions, I… initially came here to check on the Traveler’s condition, but then… I ended up… speaking with Guuji Yae, but…”

Scaramouche shuffles his hands to his hips, looking almost pleased by the idea of you being turned away. “Oh, the fox woman wouldn’t tell you?”

You shake your head. “Not exactly. When we started speaking of… other things, I decided I’d rather chance waiting for you to want to answer me, yourself, if I ever asked them. If you ever wanted to answer me.”

Scaramouche’s hard gaze seems to linger on you from beneath his hat, something that leaves you warm, cagey, and a little concerned that just maybe, he doesn’t believe your ignorance to be false, after all.

“I simply… was worried about you,” you add.

“Worried,” he parrots, sounding almost offended. “Why would I need you to worry about me?”

“If you’re suddenly seeing things as if I’m making you out as weak or as looking down on you, that’s not what’s happening here, sir.” Past him, you look to the cliffs you knew would eventually bring you to a lesser shrine but a moment after feeling the sharp crawl of electricity creep up your back. “Could we walk and talk, sir? The Electro energy the mountain channels is starting to fry the hair off my arms…”

“… fine.”

And so, you lead the way, trapped between the quiet of a promised conversation and your nerves, unable to speak and walk at the same time. It’s a surprise to you, just how patient the Balladeer is being. Perhaps in your constant busyness, with your typically need to leave your Harbinger stress-free from these menial duties, you’ve never truly noticed just how differently the man walking beside you treats you. How much more patience he has for you versus the rest of his underlings. It didn’t even have to do with you being his second-in-command, because if it were anybody else in your position, this conversation might not have gone so non-aggressively. At the very least, what’s mutual knowledge between the two of you is that your relationship has always been one of respect, and not one drowned for fear of him like the others have so easily admitted to.

Finally, having descended the rest of the mountain, now far away from the crackling and sizzling of its natural Electro pond, you lead the Balladeer to the front of the abandoned shrine, to sit at its steps and take a large breath. Scaramouche remains standing, arms at his sides, eyebrows now pinched.

“S-So… I just… recalled,” you clear your throat, eyes flitting up to meet his briefly before flying back down into your lap, “that you had a look on your face when the Tsaritsa gave the order to have us come out to Inazuma. I remember you once saying that you were from here, and I was only wanting to be prepared to help you in any way I could. And then, the next look on your face when you were given the Gnosis by Guuji Yae…”

“And so, your first choice of preparation was to go and gather intel on me from that fox envoy?” he queries.

“I-I suppose,” you murmur. “I didn’t want to overstep or… um…”

“Or what?”

“… or make you sad.” You finally look up at him, not in sudden confidence, but of the pure desire to simply look at him. As per usual, his impassiveness shines clear as day in the night air, illuminated by the lanterns glowing along the shrine’s engawa. “Lord Scaramouche, Lady Guuji Yae did not tell me of your history by my own request. Instead, she helped me reach a certain point of clarity of myself regarding you… That the reason I sought her out to speak about you was more b… because…”

“You’re burning the midnight oil, here, ______.”

You huff at him. “It’s because I’ve grown extremely fond of you,” you finally blurt. “Romantically, if that wasn’t clear. I-In other words, I believe I’ve fallen in love with you, Lord Scaramouche.”

… there is a moment of silence that leaves your heart aching. At the very least, you’d expected a retort, or a comment of disapproval for bothering him with something that might’ve seemed so trivial to a man like him, but in his wordlessness, he simply stands before you, eyes trained hard in your direction.

Throwing his foot up against one of the steps to your left, you find yourself suddenly trapped between him and the railing, the air in your chest swirling. And everything happens all too quickly – his hand finding the crown of your head to tilt it toward him; his gaze rising and falling between your widened eyes and your parted lips; his subtlety in wetting his own dried lips, tongue darting carefully past his teeth to soften them, before leaning into you and pressing them firmly against yours.

You can’t control the noise that escapes you, nor your instinct to brace yourself against your surroundings — the porch, the step beneath you, the railing, his chest — in your attempt at registering the Sixth Harbinger’s actions.

He is unmoving in them, indigo eyes half-lidded as he studies your face, your reaction to him. When he just barely moves his mouth upwards, his lower lip slotting between the two of yours, and carefully moves his hand to fall to your nape, he catches your flinch of surprise, feels your fingers tighten around the sleeves of his shirt. In pulling away, he hears your small noise of disappointment, and takes in the heat resting upon the apples of your cheeks.

“L-Lord Scaramouche,” you pant, and from the corner of your mouth, you lick away the bit of saliva that remained. Was it yours? His? He’s not sure he cares.

“What?” he says, tone accosting. “Wasn’t that the definition of the “love” that you desired from me? You and I have worked together for long enough to know that that is an undeniable impossibility, and yet you still decided that the best course of action to take would be a confession?”

“I-It’s not so simple like that!” you argue, and you push his leg off the step and stand up, now an extra foot or so taller than the man. “A confession – my confession to you – is not something so fleeting; it’s not some passing emotion I’ve suddenly started feeling because I spoke to Guuji Yae. This is something I know I’ve felt since the first days I began working for you, something I’ve tried to ignore for both our sakes, and for the longest time, it worked. I managed to be good at keeping our relationship professional.

“And you’re right— we have worked together long enough that I could feel safe in telling you my truth. All I could hope for was maybe some understanding, and in a long shot, maybe a bit of reciprocation. Either way, I’d at least have something off of my chest.” You glare down at the man, fingers twitching— “A-And just so you know, I’m going to be kissing you again after that, because speaking frankly, sir, you… are an awful kisser!” – before reaching for his shirt with them and tugging him up and toward you.

He jolts, thrown off by the height difference the staircase offered and by your sudden bravado, gripping at either railing of the shrine’s staircase. Your lips, as warm as the heat that seemed to radiate from you, as soft as he’d experienced them to be the first time he’d touched them, press against his. You can only dare in closing your eyes that he wouldn’t retaliate, but you still half-expect him to push you away and scold you, something said in his flavour of retaliation and ridicule. But his hands give rise to where your hands stretch out the material of his shirt, skinny fingers wrapping tightly around the bones of your wrists to spin you off the higher step and onto equal ground.

Pulling away from you, a smirk crawls onto his visage. “And who gave you permission to speak frankly in the first place?” he asks. You can’t tell if his tone is serious and taunting or humoured and teasing. You swallow when he leans further into you, your heart racing, his lips pausing just before your ear. “Insulting your superior officer,” he whispers to you, a dry chuckle escaping him a second later when he returns to face you. “That’ll get you places.”

Taunting and teasing, you decide shakily.

To your surprise, the Balladeer leans into you once more, his glistening, parted lips slotting between yours, hands slowly moving to take hold of your cheeks in his attempt at keeping you close. It’s sloppy, teeth clacking together at times, and a little wet, but your heart threatens to burst with joy and relief at his effort, his reciprocation being something you wouldn’t have expected him to put any into.

A hand of your own raises to take the smooth curve of his jawline into your palm. He mumbles against your murmurs, and grunts at the wet, wriggling sensation invading his mouth. Their tongue? he realizes, doing poorly to mask his shock at how pleasant he finds the feeling to be. Unpredictable as per his usual routine, he returns the gesture, his own joining with yours to swirl and dance in the space between you. The softest of moans escapes him, and he tears away from you, embarrassed and breathing sharply, his pale cheeks tinted with the softest of rouge and lips tainted by your mixture of saliva.

Your laughter is faint as you lick away the liquid gathered along your own.

“So…” Scaramouche glances at you from beneath his newly summoned hat, barely having time to recover when you’ve shot him a look unfamiliar to him—it’s startling, how warm it makes him feel; how unfocused his mind is when your gazes lock; how impossible he finds it to begin stringing words into a sentence after what he’d engaged in – dazed, your eyelids flutter on incident at him, and in that starstruck, awestruck daze, “Did any of that get me anywhere with you?”

— until these words exit your mouth, that is. Your flippant attitude was not something he’d accounted for in the aftermath, and even worse, you’d caught him in a moment of vulnerability and weakness and decided to deliver them before he could collect himself.

“Something like that,” he says, tone breathy with exasperation, his eyes having rapidly widened at you. You chuckle nervously in response, daring to reach forward and adjust his slightly tilted kasa. He turns on the spot when you’re finished, clearing his throat, and beginning the rest of your descent down from the base of Mount Yougou. “Come along, then. We’ve got work to do.”

© nc-vb/niicevibe 2022-2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[dwindleddawn]

walking through the picturesque streets of cardinal hill, you find dawn boucher, the 25 year old veterinarian originally from cardinal hill, wa. living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're spirited and clumsy, but what you might not know is that they are a witch, and that they’re hiding something… ― taylor russell, bisexual, cis woman, and she/her.

tw: parental neglect

OVERVIEW.

name: dawn juniper boucher.

nicknames: dawnie.

age: twenty five.

date of birth: february 17th

hometown: cardinal hill, wa

gender: woman.

pronouns: she / her.

sexual orientation: bisexual.

occupation: veterinarian.

spoken languages: english, french.

relationship status: single

magical status: witch

familiar: kendrick, bearded dragon

influences: jessica day, luna lovegood

PHYSICAL.

faceclaim: taylor russell.

height: 5'4.

build: slim.

eye colour: brown

hair: brown, short.

tattoos: one,

FAMILY.

mother: elsie boucher nee southerns (witch, missing)

father: frederick boucher (55, witch)

siblings:  cassandra boucher (28, human), arthur boucher (23, witch).

extended: kendall southerns (aunt, human), olive boucher (adoptive aunt, witch).

QUICK BACKSTORY

dawn was born the middle child of three to freddie and elsie boucher, her mothers little angel. the children grew up fairly content, but it wasn't perfect.

the southerns and bouchers had been close initially when the boucher’s first moved to cardinal hill. they were first to welcome them as their neighbour. freddie's older sister olive had even been engaged to a southern at one point. she broke off the engagement when she found he'd tried dabbling in dark magic, however, breaking his heart and causing the southerns to harbor deep seated hatred for the family.

in spite of this, the family grew up in a happy home, full of warmth and laughter. they wanted their children to have a childhood free from the burden of their families.

dawn was the first of her siblings to develop her abilities. the next was arthur. but, cassandra never did develop powers of her own. it would be a lie to say she wasn’t bitter, believing she had to work twice as hard to prove herself, but nevetherless wanted to protect her family still. she put that burden even more on herself as they got older, and especially after their mother when missing.

when dawn was thirteen, her mother vanished inexplicably and suddenly in the night. the family had awoken to find her gone, everything untouched as if she’d never even left. no one could work it out. everyone had their theories but dawn didn't want to hear them. she wanted to believe that her mother was out there somewhere, and had a good reason for leaving.

frederick had his theory too - that the southerns had something to do with the disappearance. she wouldn't leave of her own volition. he tried proving this. it took up almost all his time until he gave up, fell into a deep sadness and neglected his life in all way.

on the other side of town, the southerns had spun a tall tale amongst other witches that frederick had been responsibility for their daughters vanishing. and, that magic had something to do with it.

with their standing in town amongst their kind, it didn't take much for people to believe them. and it didn’t taken long for their father to disappear too. it split the family. none of them knew what to believe.

it was the most logical explanation, but dawn refused to believe it deep down. but it was easier than believing their beloved mother would abandon them all. she was a free spirit, but they were her world.

dawn felt lost without both of them. her older sister had taken it upon herself to look out for everyone. whilst, arthur went the opposite, rebelling at every moment he could. dawn was trying to hold everyone together with a smile. it's what she had always done.

the remaining years of her adolescent were between homes.

after everything that had happened, she’d sorted floated for a bit. they were between homes a lot. mainly because arthur was a little shit and would get them moved. but, eventually, olive managed to get custody and they tried to gain some form of normalcy from before.

dawn always had an affinity for the wild, often befriending stray dogs and injured birds. so, when she turned eighteen, despite slightly lacking grades, she decided she wanted to become a vet. it would mean time away from the people she loved most, but it was adventure she needed.

honestly, the break was needed. dawn hadn't realised how clouded her mind had been by her family troubles, so when she put her mind on other things, it was a blessing.

olive let dawn stay with her cheap after she came home. she'd always been her favourite and even helped put her through some of school. she never fully believed what everyone was saying about her brother.