#i’m guessing the answers would NOT be about a government conspiracy

[starlightseraph]

i really want someone who’s never seen the x files to look at these promotional photos and then try to guess what the show is about

[connorsbonez]

Stalkers and Cryptids

Timeline: Pre-OT4, Middle of OT3

About: Tim and Wes have a conversation about fucking up and how to proceed afterwards.

Court Talk

Tim watched as Wes turned the basketball in his hands with a contemplative expression on his freckled face out of the corner of his eye. The ginger hadn’t said anything since he dragged Tim out to a basketball court, leaving them in prolonged silence, and the vigilante could only imagine what possessed Wes to bring him out here.

He wondered distantly whether or not he could come up with a good reason to leave early without guilt so he could go back to the cold case he’d been working on.

Tim just wanted to be able to drown everything out, ignore his personal problems, and hyper focus on cases so he could actually help someo-

He grunted as something slammed into his stomach, instinctually grabbing it before it registered to him what it was. Tim glanced down at the basketball in confusion before looking up at an unamused Wes with knitted brows.

Wes scoffed softly, his head rolled back slightly as well as his eyes at the motion before he met Tim’s gaze again. “You were making that face again.”

“What face?”

“That really dumb one when you’re slowly slipping into self-depreciation from overthinking.”

Tim frowned. “I don’t make that face.” Who was he kidding, he probably did.

The ginger raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, instead gesturing a hand over at the hoop. “Think you can make that shot?”

He pursed his lips, a feeling of frustration sparking in his chest, “What are you doing?” He asked, his grip on the basketball tightening. “Why are we here?”

Why are you still choosing to be around me? To have me in your life still?

“To rewrite the Declaration of Independence in a backwards Dutch-Ghostspeak love language.” Wes replied voice laced so heavily with sarcasm that Tim could practically taste it, crossing his arms as he leaned back on his heels. “We’re here to hang out, play basketball and I kick your ass at it, and I don’t know…” The conspiracy theorist paused, trailing off, the frown on his face softening as he looked down with a grimace at the ground for a brief moment. “…talk, I guess.” He ended the sentence awkwardly.

This is the weirdest breakup he’s ever experienced. Tim couldn’t help but think and he says as much, earning himself an incredulous look from Wes that quickly morphed into a familiar expression of ‘you’re such a fucking idiot’ and Tim used to think it wasn’t possible to have that look and have it still manage to look so fond (so painfully fond), but still very much annoyed, until the very first time he saw Wes make that expression at Danny and later Tim himself.

“Why the hell would you think that?”

Because I messed up, because my mistake got him hurt which in turn hurt you, because I’m a stupid horrible person who couldn’t not be nosy for one fucking moment and doesn’t deserve this and shouldn’t have had pretended I did.

“I think you know.” He answered vaguely, glancing away.

Wes’ eyes narrowed slightly, green eyes seemed to soften into a sort of understanding, an understanding much deeper than just getting what Tim meant and he couldn’t begin to imagine what Wes got. The ginger sighed and opened his arms, obligating the vigilante to bounce the basketball into his hands. Wes twisted the ball in his grip for a moment before he started bouncing it idly as he turned to face the hoop, Tim followed his gaze briefly before settling back at the theorist.

“I almost exposed Danny’s identity to a government branch that wanted to vivisect him and use him for experiments.” Wes confessed almost with an eerie casualness if not for the breathless way he said it, like he had to force the words out or else they’d never be heard, as he made the shot, the ball traced the rim before falling through the hoop, the bouncing was almost louder than it should have been as Tim stood in stiffened silence, trying to process what Wes just said.

Not that Wes gave him the time, continuing to plow through this conversation as he walked over to grab the ball, it seemed to shake in his hold as he stared down at it. “I’ve never been good at keeping secrets in the sense that I couldn’t leave things to lay, I didn’t understand that some things shouldn’t be brought to light. Ever. When I saw a mystery, I wanted to solve it and show it off to everyone and their mothers.”

Wes let out a huff that sounded close to a dull laugh. “Danny had a mystery that I had solved ages ago, it was pretty obvious for me, the problem was that no one seemed to see it too or believed me when I tried to tell them. Of course, I couldn’t leave it as that. I just had to get people to believe me and See The Truth.” His nose scrunched up at the end of his words and Tim thought that Wes’ green eyes seemed to glow for a moment under the setting sun.

“I did so many stupid things to try and prove it, things that Danny will probably happily tell you because some of them are downright mortifying. Like intensive stalking and publicly accusing him of being a ghost with his ghost hunting parents not two feet away from him.” The conspiracy theorist paused, taking in a breath as he bounced the ball a few times as if to comfort or ground himself. “The GIW hadn’t seemed so bad back then, for the humans at least, for those who didn’t know what they were really like and that unfortunately included me for a bit. And I was desperate at this point for anyone to believe me, so desperate that I fucking emailed the GIW about how I knew Phantom’s identity with some of my proof attached to make them believe me.”

Tim’s mouth was slightly hanging from that. “You what?”

Wes grimaced as he bounced the ball more harshly. “Yep. If Danny hadn’t broken into my house when he did to explain, it…would have ended much differently.” He finished his sentence after a moments of hesitation, turning again to throw the ball through the hoop again and going to retrieve it. Leaving Tim to process what he just learned.

Eventually Tim found Wes standing in front of him again, he looked at the ginger and licked his dry lips. “How’d you fix it?” He asked, his voice coming out more quiet than he wanted too. “How…did you get Danny to forgive you for that? He must have been angry with you.”

Wes blinked slowly, leaning back on his heels in a casual manner. “Oh. He didn’t.”

“What?”

“He didn’t forgive me.” Wes said slowly, like he was talking about the weather, as he leaned forward slightly and met Tim’s eyes again.

Tim stared back into green eyes as his body felt chilled, as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water onto him. An ugly bubbling feel squirmed inside him and made him ponder distantly if he was going to throw up or not. “But..you’re dating. You’re together.” He pointed out with a frown, confused on how Danny could date Wes if he didn’t forgive him.

The ginger sighs like he was an old man who just got told his dumbass grandkids were out doing something stupid and he needed to go get them. Wes let the ball hit the ground and roll off slowly as he crossed his arms. “Yeah. We are.”

“But..he doesn’t forgive you.”

“Uh huh.” Wes sighed again and scratched the back of his neck. “Look, here’s the thing Tim, no one’s obligated to forgive someone when they fuck up, majorly or not. It’s purely up to that person. But just because they don’t forgive that person, that doesn’t mean they can’t move on and grow from the experience, and maybe that results in those people losing contact or maybe they get close again as friends, family or lovers. It just..depends on the situation and the people.”

Wes paused to take a breath. “That’s not to, like, say there isn’t work both people have to put into healing that relationship, because there is. It’s so much work to repair that broken trust and mend the foundation so it can grow into something new.”

“Something new?”

“Well, yeah, there’s no fucking way that relationship is going to be exactly the same if it gets fixed.”

Tim swallowed thickly, uncomfortable and a little scared to ask his next question. “So..Danny’s never going to forgive me but with work he’ll hopefully still want to be with me?”

“I don’t know.” Wes replied with a simple shrug, making Tim blink widely in confusion. “What? What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It means, I don’t know whether or not Danny’s gonna forgive you and still want to be in a relationship with you. I’m not Danny, I don’t always know what’s going on in that cracked kaleidoscope mind of his.” Wes explained a bit too fondly as he poked at his temple. “But, if you ask for my personal opinion, you and Danny will be just fine. I mean, he’s dating me, on good terms with multiple of his rouge gallery, and is friends with two of his exes that have either successfully killed him or have tried too.”

That was so much information at once, holy hell. “What-“

“Plus, not to sound egotistical or anything, but what I did was arguably worse compared to what you did. You did it out of a source of concern and love, I did it for the ego boost.”

“Wes-“

“What I’m trying to say is,” Wes carried on, clasping his hands together, “there’s nothing to worry about as long as you guys do some simple little thing.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Wes inhaled and leaned forward slightly. “Talk to one another and figure it out.”

The vigilante paused and blinked several times because…that’s it? Really? And he asks as such, tone utterly confused. Wes laughed in response and shrugged, something he’s been doing a lot recently, as he gave Tim an almost flat look.

“Yep, that’s it. Shocking isn’t it? But yeah, that’s all you really have to do, just…sit down and talk to each other. Figure yourselves out and how y’all are going to continue from there.”

That…was a plan. Not something Tim did very much, both as a Drake and as a Drake-Wayne, but it was a plan nonetheless. It didn’t remove the anxiety that thrashed and clawed inside him, the fear and the what ifs. Not adding that there was something to this plan that was wrong in the way that something wasn’t even mentioned in it.

“What about you?”

Wes paused and his nose scrunched up in confusion. “Huh?”

“What about you.” Tim repeats his words again as he stared down the theorist. “Where do you stand in this situation, Wes? You’ve given me advice and how to proceed with this situation and what could possibly happen but you’ve never stated your own opinion on this.”

Wes frowned slightly at Tim. “I thought it was pretty obvious what my stance was on this.”

“No, no, not really. Well- kind of? Look, I guess what I’m trying is ask is…” Tim paused, resisting the urge to lick his lips as his heart squeezed painfully at the thought he’d formed. “..Should Danny and I…break up because of this, will we also be separating?” Tim’s voice slowly got quieter as he asked the elephant in the room, the dreadful question.

Wes blinked slowly, as if this wasn’t something the ginger had thought too hard about, and he was silent for a long moment which made Tim’s skin itch before he finally replied. “…No. I’m not going to leave you should you and Danny end up breaking up.”

Something loosened in Tim’s chest, only slightly but it was still a nice weight removal all the same.

“Really?”

Wes made a micro expression like he instinctually wanted to say something snarky before his face quickly smoothed out and he nodded. “Really.”

“Okay…okay. I think it’s time I go talk to Danny.”

•• End ••

What did Tim do? Who knows! Up to you I guess.

:)

[crepezinhos]

request where reader has a horrible phobia of the dentist, but albedo is there to talk them into going to their appointment and supporting them the way through? :)

Monthly Checkup

(REQUEST #6) POV: How would a science nerd like Albedo react towards a S/O who has a phobia of dentists?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This a fluffy SFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains exaggerated views towards science / dentists

“There’s no need to worry, Y/N, it’ll be a simple checkup, no longer than 30 minutes, so why are you so worried about this? Have you not been brushing your teeth properly?”

That was his only argument to you as he drove the car in the direction of the dentist’s clinic.

You were worried, swallowing saliva repetitively, but you that moment had to be faced sometime. You wish you had procrastinated it once again, but Albedo insisted so much on getting the chore over to not mess up the calendar that you convinced yourself to arrange an appointment today and right now. Although he has been your boyfriend for months, you two have never really found each other in this situation, meaning that you never really communicated to him that you feared dentists.

Especially because Albedo is a very rough defender of science and does not tolerate conspiracy theories about it. Tell him vaccines are fake? He’ll just tell you to have fun with the HIV tests. The Moon’s landing is fake? He’ll just walk away from you. The Earth is flat and the government hides it? He’ll genuinely wonder if you ever stepped into high school.

How would you tell such a science-strict man like him that you think dentists will kill you and torture you using sharp materials in your fragile teeth? Would he laugh at you? It would not be a good sign coming from a stoic person like him.

“I, uh… I don’t know.” You muttered, completely unsure of what to tell him instead of the real reason.

“No, Y/N, I’m serious, is there something wrong with your teeth and you’re scared that the doctor will scold you for it?” He said, stopping the car right behind the crosswalk since the signal had turned red.

He was pretty close, but it’s not it.

“No, really.” You said, trying to get him to keep going until he guessed the correct answer.

“Y/N, I can see something is going on and I’m worried about it. Please, let’s talk about it. It would be good for the both of us as a couple.” Albedo insisted, turning his body to you, but keeping his left hand in the steering wheel.

You turned your head away from him even further, feeling the will of telling him the truth taking over and tightening your throat more and more.

“It might begin a bigger discussion and that’s the last thing I want right now.” You argued.

“It won’t, unless it’s something that could reasonably end our relationship.” He argued back, proceeding to wait for a possible response coming from you. “And, a slight disagreement about something insignificant is never going to be bad for us.” He stated a little more calm compared to how he started, putting his right hand on top of yours just to caress it gently. “Please.” Albedo insisted.

And you sighed in realization that you had no good arguments to hit him back, although you didn’t find his words valid or coherent to his person. Albedo is the kind of guy to make small disagreements a bigger matter, but now that he promised to stay calm, you could use it as a weapon against him.

“Well, I… I just… have a phobia of dentists. I’m scared of what the doctor might do to me today and that’s why I’m freaking out right not.” You confessed, shrieking your body and crossing your arms in expectation of his scolding, with a nervous chuckle that was supposed to make the scene less awkward,

And silent.

He didn’t say anything, especially because the traffic signal had turned green, so he had to look forward and drive, making the car went quiet for a quick moment, the sound of motors underneath it louder than anything.

…

He breathed in and out pretty loudly with his nose out of nowhere.

…

“I’m a little offended at your expectations coming from me, I must say, but I’m surprised with this information, I thought this was just another monthly checkup, but it wasn’t. I… did not know something so important as your phobias.” Albedo commented, surprising your negative expectations, and breaking off the awkward silence.

“Oh, please, you know every time someone dares to question science you get angry.” You replied, getting a little too comfortable to make a comment at his behavior although that could phrase could begin the argument that you wanted to avoid.

And it seemed like it when he went quiet again to process what you had said to him. It looked like he was analyzing it pretty well, but you thought he’d not agree with whatever he thought of.

You kinda don’t like it when Albedo gets angry. It’s annoying and really hard to make him drop those feelings.

“Well, I must agree that I do get unnecessarily angry when someone spreads fake information about science, but this is not the case here. I would never get angry at you for a fear, Y/N, especially when I know there’s a pretty good reason behind it.” He calmly explained his point of view to you, making you look up to him finally.

Not even you what he meant. Although that’s what you should’ve expected coming from a boyfriend, you didn’t understand how your fear wasn’t against his patterns or how you ‘have a reason.’.

“What do you mean I have a reason?” You asked.

“Your braces. You had them for some several years, didn’t you? I know that the process of it is usually very painful because of the many alterations they cause in your mouth, so maybe your brain started developing this fear to somehow protect you from these alterations, although they don’t happen anymore… I do believe it’s a little exaggerated, but I will not oppose something that could also happen to me.” He explained his reasons to you, but you barely understood his scientific explanation.

“Really?” You asked, finally looking up to him, a little happy that Albedo was upping the stakes against himself for you.

Albedo letting a person dare science and leave it like that? That was progress.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I would ever avoid appointments because of it. Would you do that, Y/N?” He clarified before you had any further bad ideas of him.

“I mean… I procrastinated this moment a lot.” You confessed, looking away again in embarrassment.

“But you’re still here in this car, with me, going to get this done, so I don’t think there’s any problem, is there?” He asked pretty solidly.

“No… unfortunately…” You whispered to yourself.

“Could I go in the room with you? Would that make you feel more comfortable?” Albedo asked more softly.

“Yes… please.” You answered a little nervous but also relieved that he made such a cute question.

You knew that Albedo would defend from the dentist if necessary, which made your heart go back to its normal rhythm.

“Was it that bad, Y/N?” Albedo asked with a slight smirk on his face as the elevator went down many floors.

“… Shut up.” You answered, chuckling.

“I’m kidding, Y/N, but I do want you to always remember these better experiences. It will end up replacing the bad ones and create a new perspective that will make your next visits less stressful. You had me really worried with all that intensity back in the car and I don’t want to ever see you like that again for such an unrealistic reason, alright? Let’s keep your tears for better occasions, the both of us.” He said, pulling your face closer to his just to smooch your forehead gently as he smiled and stared at your eyes.

“… Fine.”

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

Anon, if you’re reading this, I apologize for the very late deliver. If you have been keeping up with my posts, you must know that I have been recently on a trip which took all my days from tumblr. I am finally back, but I still don’t have much motivation or creativity to write at the moment. This isn’t a hiatus, but expect me to post a little less until school’s back. If you really had an appointment with a dentist, I really do apologize for missing it because it would’ve probably made you comfortable.

(Also, the braces thing was a self-insert feature of me but I believe other people can relate to it too, sorry if it’s a bother or not real about you.)

And, remember that dentists don’t want and will not hurt you, they just want to do their job, and some of them just really love their job, so there’s no need to be afraid. ❤️

Taglist: @kindofscenic @kindofshyent @the-stinky-winky

[sablegear0]

I have some Thoughts about the season-ender of Technoroid Overmind. Spoilers to follow obviously

First, it felt like it should have been two episodes. Granted, the whole season felt fast-tracked, I suspect they were only given a dozen episodes worth of space with no plans for a Season 2. But I would have liked to see more elaboration on the escape/Babel infiltration bit, since that’s probably a huge undertaking, actually. I can’t imagine security would be so lax for an event like that, especially with the Exclusionist bloc pulling the strings.

Second, I think they could have done a bit more with the epilogue-y bits/time-skip scenes. If the infiltration plot could have been its own episode, the performance and aftermath could have used more space, too. The short scenes we got lend themselves to some good analysis but I personally would have liked just a bit more material.

I also would have liked to see what Bora and Nobel got up to. Obviously, because I am smitten, (I was robbed of Bora’s emotional awakening scene you jerks) but less obviously because the implied changes were actually pretty subtle until the very end. It was nice they managed to get Bora’s detective partner on board; I think it’s fine to omit that exchange but it could have been an interesting one to see. Especially given Bora’s very brief epilogue. I can make some guesses as to what’s going on there (most likely he’s gone rogue or undercover to dig into the World Government conspiracy, hence fleeing from some random goons) but all we know for sure is he did pick up the Heart patch because he saves a stray dog even while he’s clearly under duress himself. (Which is also a nice callback to the prior episode with the abandoned puppy)

As always I have to gripe that the performances weren’t subtitled. I’m sure they were very moving but come on, guys. It doesn’t have to be an accurately “musical” translation, I just want to know what they’re saying! (Not knowing the language and from a pure performance standpoint, Standalone would have gotten my vote. Oops.)

On reflection, I think Esola encouraging the gang to pursue their own ambitions was a neat choice. Not just for the “make the most of your now-limited time” aspect of it which is explicitly stated, but the fact that the main four were meant to help raise Esola into a “perfect human” - to teach him kindness and creativity and the value of interpersonal bonds. The very fact that he basically says “thanks guys but it’s my turn to care about your wants and needs”/“I love you but I don’t think I need you here now” proves he’s matured according to plan. He’s growing up compassionate and just, and he wants his caretakers to live the lives that we’re taken from them. Really sweet stuff.

Kite’s choice to be an organ donor for his sister felt… bad. But I suppose it’s also the “accurate” end of that story. To have him turn around and suddenly decide that artificial organs are an acceptable substitute would be the “predictable” thing, but his epilogue implies he still has a long way to go before he’ll genuinely accept synths as equals, and I can respect that from a writing perspective. He’s changed, but not completely. (I wonder if he’d make it to a Season 2 if we got one, or if the twins would carry on performing in his absence as just a duo…)

Time-skip Esola really owns the long hair. I wasn’t crazy about the design at first, the way it’s drawn looks very messy, but I can kinda dig it. He looks a lot like his mom, which is absolutely on purpose. I like to think Neon inspired him to let it grow out, they both really rock the fem-leaning look. Congrats for TrOm for not being weird about its gnc characters. (Also yes, casual Bora is very cute, but I feel like he looks better with his headphone-dealies. Is that weird?)

Also what does Nobel actually do? We never get a straight answer out of him. Where does he go at the end of the day? Is he living off a retainer the professor left behind for him? Is he also an upload, or partial upload? We know the Prof experimented on himself, maybe Nobel is some combination of his own partial scans and a procedural learning program like Eliza. But if so, wouldn’t he have had the Heart programming to start with? Why does he treat it like this mysterious thing when reasonably he should also be equipped with it? I know his appeal is in being the mysterious mentor character, so it’s likely we’ll never know for sure.

And another thing- how do we know for sure the Heart patch even works on other consumer models? Bora already tested the main gang by copying their core programming into spares. I thought the fact that the spares didn't act the same way implied the uniqueness was in the hardware, not the programming. Unless the Heart components are not able to be copied, or require a lot of empty space in a drive to function properly (which the spares maybe didn't have?), as mentioned later. If it IS the latter, then isn't patching the Heart programming into every other synth kind of... pointless? We were told that the main four, Bora, the Ritz 9s, and presumably Nobel are unique in having that purposefully empty drive space to accommodate proto-Heart emotional anomalies. So can the Heart programming function without it? I suppose some minor plot holes can be made for the sake of a happier ending.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for now. I won’t lie to you guys, there may be fanfic in the future. Maybe.

[writingwithcolor]

Lizard People and Antisemitism: Avoiding Dogwhistles

@cursed--alien said:

Is it possible to make an anthro lizard character without being antisemitic? I know lizard people is an antisemitic dogwhistle, but I also think geckos are really rad and want to make a gecko dude.

@aj-whitfield-real said:

On the anti-semitism discussion: What about lizard characters in of themselves? Like, anthropomorphic lizard, or just scaly characters? What should be considered when writing them?

Great questions, y’all! I love lizards so I’ve been saving this one for when I had enough energy to have fun with it.

Short answer: no, lizard anthros are not offensive on their own. I, personally, adore them.

Why are lizard comparisons antisemitic?

In order to write a lizard anthro who won’t be read as a weird antisemitic thing, there are some steps you can take to distance the character from antisemitic tropes. But before I get into that, I want to make sure everyone understands why the lizard thing is bad. I love lizards. Like, a lot. Going back to being 5 years old. But when people make those comments it's not about "cute lizards" it's like... this way of saying we look so weird (or are so weird) that we don't even look mammalian. To compare a marginalized group you aren’t in to an animal (and we are far from being the only group to experience this) is often two different kinds of annoying at once: 1. It’s a generalization, and one that reduces us to some assumed common trait that we all have, and 2. Usually it’s a reference to something humans—all humans—find off-putting about this type of animal.

Distancing your character from antisemitic tropes

Anyway moving on to ways to distance your dapper adorable Geico lizard from us:

1. I’d avoid having them being bankers, debt collectors, or anything else associated with money (I’m okay with that iguanamouth cartoon of the lizard hoarding coins you lost in the couch, because it’s ridiculously cute. This is all mental algebra, with pluses and minuses, and things being lovable, cute, and safe can make it okay because the core of the lizard trope is the antithesis of lovable and the antithesis of safe.)

2. “Invading.” Because that’s the rest of the antisemitic lizard trope, that we’re infiltrators. I think some of this might come from the fact that some of us look really white, but have customs that the local Christians super didn’t associate with whiteness so it seemed sneaky to them. Like we were something foreign and other-y but in a white-person costume. But that’s just a guess. (I am thinking of the “your skin is hanging off your bones, Edgar” thing at the beginning of Men in Black or the Slitheen in “Aliens of London” in Doctor Who, but specifically with lizards. Please note I am not a Whovian so I don’t really know anything else about them, I just randomly saw the Eccleston season with a friend a looong time ago. If you avoid having your lizard anthros evoke this trope that is a very good way to save them.)

3. Master manipulators, government conspiracy etc. I suppose this is related to point #2.

4. There are certain stereotypical professions that I would be shy about unless you have a definitive way of showing you’re not talking about Jewish people (such as, having Jewish humans in the story/universe, or making the lizards pagan or Christian or something) -- tailors (this is more historical than current), doctors, lawyers especially sleazy ones. This one is more murky because you can probably get away with a lizard anthro orthopedic surgeon or whatever if she’s super lovable. Consider #4 more of a yellow light than a red light.

Speaking of being lovable making it okay, this post I wrote about my own approach to writing a literal Jewish lizard-shifter character from the inside might be helpful, with the caveat that I would absolutely not write a characters as trope-reclaiming as Isaac from the outside of any group. I am fully aware what a thin line I am walking here.

In concusion

Look, I love lizards, and I love being Jewish, so I wish I could enjoy things like the “shalomander” meme unconditionally, or put Isaac in an umbrella as a kippah when he’s in his dragon form in an art commission without being nervous. But unfortunately there are teeth and history hidden in some of these things so it’s a good idea to tread lightly.

I think you will be fine because there is plenty of room for anthro lizard people without the kind that sets off the trope.

P.S. If you love lizards as much as I do, you should check out @daftpatience ‘s lizard wizard series.

--Shira

[enigmaticxbee]

✖️✖️✖️ 11x04 The Lost Art of the Forehead Sweat

The one where... Reggie Something was erased from the X-Files. Maybe.

Best: Scully: I want to remember how it was. I want to remember how it all was. I wish we could just end things here, with Mulder and Scully smiling at each other on the couch of their Unremarkable House over a Sasquatch footprint shaped Goop-O ABC 🥰

Worst: The Trump era-ness of this episode is a LOT. I really enjoyed parts of it, but I had to just tune out other parts to avoid anxiety inducing truthiness flashbacks.

✔️ Flashlights

❌ Woods/Desert

❌ Slideshow

❌ Autopsy

✔️ Evidence Disappears

❌ Scully Misses It

❌ Mulder Ditch

✔️ Sunflower Seeds

✔️ Voiceover (Scully, Reggie narration)

❌ Catch Phrase

❌ Scully is a Medical Doctor

❌ Mulder is Spooky

❌ Scuuullllaaaaayy! Muullllderrrr!

❌ Fox/Dana

✔️ Inappropriate Touching (that I am here for)

✔️ Casual Scully (date night!)

✔️ Casual Mulder (Squatchin suit)

✔️ Trench Coats

❌ Bad Tie Watch

❌ Glasses Watch

✔️ Taking! It! Personally!: Mulder

50 States: DC x108 (44/50)

Investigate: Together & Apart

Solve Rate: 70%

❌ Bechdel Test: Unless you count Mrs Peacock screaming in the flashback there were no other women who spoke in this episode. C’mon Darin Morgan!

MSR: 🐝🐝🐝🐝

Goriness: 👽👽

Creepiness: 👽

Humor: 👽👽👽👽👽

Rewatch Thoughts:

William check-in: No mention

Break-up check-in: I guess they’re officially dating again!

Scully’s been calling him all day - maybe to confirm that dinner date?

Squatchin! Love that for him. And that Scully’s like sure, do your thing Mulder.

That moment when someone starts telling you a story for the millionth time and all your “oh yeah, I remember”s and “yeah, yeah you told me”s won’t stop that story train.

Scully just wants to go on her dinner date! Her casual date night outfit is cute too

Also Mulder in his piles of tapes perfectly captures that feeling when you know you put the thing you’re looking for away in a perfectly logical safe place and you can’t find it anywhere and you tear your home apart in search of it

Mulder’s head and voice on his little boy body in this flashback cracks me up

Scullz 😂

Scully chilling with her feet up on Mulder’s desk 😍

Scully poking fun at Mulder’s super secret rendezvous signal

Mulder waggling his eyes at Scully about a stakeout date. Scully: Well this is romantic. Mulder: Isn’t it! I think he’s sincere, hanging out with her, investigating X-Files, what could be better!

There are some great vintage posters and things in the background in the memorabilia shop.

It’s not parallel universes!

Mulder: Who is “they”?

The a-cappella theme song! The flashbacks inserting Reggie into scenes from the original run - Unusual Suspects! The Pilot! Tooms! Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose! Teso Dos Bichos 😂 Home! Small Potatoes - so fun.

Mulder: I’m Fox freaking Mulder, you punks!

Mulder: The world has become too crazy for even my conspiratorial powers. Scully: Maybe you’ve just lost your taste for it, especially after all this “birther” stuff. Seriously, conspiracy theories used to be fun. Now they’re everywhere, with real world consequences, it’s depressing.

The sculpture park is cool looking but I can’t with gobbledygooky-ness of the monologuing - but who knows that’s probably part of the point!

Foxy 🥰

It’s a Darin Morgan episode so Scully is the voice of reason and figures it all out.

The cubicle farm of government agencies montage 😂

Spotnitz Sanatorium

Their final case together, so silly, so good. Especially Mulder flinging himself to the ground in a hissy fit in disappointment over getting All the Answers.

Reggie: But maybe the point wasn’t to find the truth, but to find each other. And no matter where we go in our lives, we will always have the memories of our time together, and no one can take those away or alter them in such a way to make us doubt that they actually happened.

Mulder finally finds his lost episode! I don’t know that I’ve had a real Mandela Effect experience (although I too would have said it was the Berenstein Bears rather the Berenstain Bears) but there is a movie my sister and I loved when we were little that we can’t remember the name of and no one else has ever heard of and it sounds like a fever dream when I try describe the plot 😅

Scully’s little grin of anticipation at her spoonful of Goop-O ABC.

Let’s just leave them here in this nostalgic moment shall we.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝘽𝙐𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎. ҂ 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

back by popular demand! xx thank you for supporting my ramblings! this is kind of filler.. sorry...

pairing: dream x fm!reader

warnings: blood, slight angst, using ccs real names, guns

← previous chapter | ao3 | request |

Clay pushed himself to sit away from the wall, dragging you up with him. “How can you not hear that?” He urged mildly. Fear began to pick at your nerves as you noticed the same reactions filling the shelter. Nick stood up, following some of the other guys who heard whatever they were talking about. Clay slipped from your grasp. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and you grabbed his hand. His eyes flashed a different color as he looked at you.

A few of the women followed the group, attempting to get their companion’s attention before one of them opened the shelter door.

Your eyes grew wide as the crowd moved from the shelter. It seemed that only the women in the bunker were protesting against leaving the shelter, the men focused on shrugging out of their hold. The night sky was lit up by a foreign object you had yet to lay eyes on, Clay’s figure blocking most of your vision as you were sandwiched between him and Nick. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, your grip tightening around Clay’s arm. 

The crowd spread out in the field near the bunker, gaze cast towards the northern sky where a large planet hovered on the horizon line. You covered your mouth in shock, slinking backward as a few of the women screamed. The bright spots on its surface reflected in the eyes of the men across the field from you. You yanked on Clay’s arm, attempting to pull him back into the safety of the bunker with you. 

He turned, an amazed smile flashing to his face as he looked down at you. It was only then that you noticed the crimson lines of blood draining from his ears. “Can you hear that?” He asked, voice raspy and verklempt. You furrowed your brows, your chest rising and falling unevenly as your mind raced to figure out what was happening. Clay’s soft hair moved in the night breeze, his features looking sharper as the light from the planet cast shadows across his face. 

His face dropped suddenly, his brows knitting together as his breathing seemed to slow. You reached out to touch his face but instead, his eyes rolled and he collapsed into your arms. Nick dropped to his knees beside you as well, forcing you to reach an arm out so he didn’t face plant in the dirt under your feet. You swore under your breath as Clay’s weight forced you into a sitting position. As you held him to your chest, keeping a tight grip on Nick’s t-shirt, you hiccuped, hot tears beginning to stream down your face. 

You sat, waiting for them to wake up, for what felt like hours. Various women were wailing, while others smoked stale cigarettes and paced, theorizing what the planet could be doing. You drug your fingers through Clay’s hair, your other hand cramping from its hold on Nick’s shirt. You’d pulled him closer to settle his head on your leg beside Clay. You felt like a mother hen guarding her chicks against the winter. 

You hated it. 

One woman stood with her hands on her lower back, staring up at the planet. Every few minutes, she held her palm out to it, spreading her fingers out wide before biting her cheek and continuing to stare. You inhaled and attempted to soothe yourself by holding the boys closer to you. “They’ll wake up,” she said, her voice breaking into a quietness you hadn’t realized had settled over the field. You looked up at her, rubbing your cheek on your sleeve to rid yourself of salty tear tracks. “The big one, he still has eye movement.” You looked down at Clay, noticing her fact. He looked as if he were dreaming up the plot of a new Lord of the Rings book. 

You sighed in relief, pressing your cheek against his forehead as your hand loosened on Nick, fingers brushing his collarbone softly. It was then that you realized how warm he was. Your brain switched into panic mode as you touched his forehead, his skin burning beneath your hand. You pulled his hat off his head and set about pulling his hoodie off. 

The woman joined you at your side. “He has a fever. We have to-” you bit your lip as more tears threatened to spill. You were so tired of crying, but for some reason, you couldn’t help it. Especially now, as the lives of the man you loved and a dear friend were literally in your hands. “We have to get it down,” you managed, fingers yanking at the material. “He could die.” 

The woman settled a hand on your shoulder, slowing your movements. She removed Nick’s hoodie, balling it up and pushing it beneath his head. “He’s going to be okay. Obviously, his body’s fighting something off,” she assured. “You should move around a bit. So your legs don’t go completely numb.” 

You shook your head, looking back toward the two. “No, I can’t leave them,” you answered softly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her nod in understanding. “What were you doing over there?” You asked, nodding to where she was previously standing. 

She moved to sit cross-legged, turning her head to look back up at the planet. “I was seeing if it was moving,” she responded. “I swear I’ve seen it before. Like in a book or something.” You nodded at her words slightly. “I think it’s Callisto, one of Jupiter’s moons.” 

You dragged your sleeve across Clay’s cheek, wiping away the dried blood. “Callisto…” you repeated, attempting to jog your memory if you’d heard of it before. “So NASA was wrong, huh?” You joked, attempting to be light-hearted, but your voice reflected a dark sadness from the depths of your chest instead. 

She shrugged with a small grin on her face. “Unless it wiped us out completely as this is your hell for eternity.” You snapped your eyes to her, making her laugh. “I’m joking. Unless this is my hell,” she joshed. “It depends on what you believe is real or not, I guess.” 

You shut your eyes, a shaky breath rippling through you. “Please stop talking.” 

Before she could say something else, Clay’s eyes snapped open. He muttered your name almost as if he didn’t believe it was you. He turned his head towards where Nick was laying. “Nick?” His voice cracked slightly as he sat up. He looked at you as if asking what was happening before he turned to peer up at the planet again, his eyes shifting to a more brilliant green as if it evoked something within him. You watched his irises shift towards a glowing color before he looked at you again. 

Nick stirred in your arms before shivering. You rested your hand against his forehead once again, the heat of his body becoming more alarming. Clay was on his feet, looking quickly around the field as various people woke up, startled just as he was. You gently moved from beneath Nick, letting his head rest on his jacket as you moved to comfort Clay. He pulled you into his arms and you could hear his heart beat against his rib cage. Everything was beginning to happen so quickly as you stood on your toes to peer over Clay’s shoulder, watching as various men began to act strangely. 

You heard Nick mumble Clay’s name, causing you to break away from him to look behind you. As you did so, Nick grabbed your arm gently, his hand searing the flesh of your forearm. You let out a muted scream, yanking your hand from his as his worried eyes burned a bright orange.

THREE YEARS LATER

You tied your hair back, staring back at your reflection in the dirty mirror. It was the Callisto Anniversary, therefore you couldn’t help but think of what you used to look like; practically a child compared to who you were now. You almost glared at the scars on your arms from those nights when you all thought the world was ending. You wet your lips, tugging on your jacket and propping open the door of your bedroom before carrying yourself down the long hallway. Various people greeted you from their rooms as you passed by their opened doors. 

As you trudged down the various flights of stairs, you silently repeated the words of the cultists' propaganda posters covering the walls in the stairwell. You passed them every day; hating them more each time you saw them. You’d only let them hang the posters after they threatened to burn down the hotel, thus eliminating yours and several hundreds of other people’s homes and businesses. 

After the planet, which you now knew for sure was the moon Callisto, settled into the Earth’s night sky, reports of enlightened men popped up everywhere. The male population seemed to be a favorite of Callisto’s as most of them possessed some kind of power, whether useless or beneficial. Conspiracy theorists believed it was because of the creatures in the water beneath its surface attempting to create a new generation of Poseidon's sons. With the moon ruining Earth’s power supply, it was difficult to experiment and prove various theories. 

It’s the radiation, some would say. 

It’s a government conspiracy. 

It’s an alien experiment. 

You’d heard it all. The only thing you were certain of was what Eden told you, the woman you’d met when Callisto appeared. She was convinced of the Poseidon theory; though rather scornfully. “One more thing to strengthen male privilege...” She often accounted. She’d worked as a biology professor before the day of reckoning, therefore she could tell you the chicken came before the egg and you’d believe her. She explained the phenomenon of Callisto as a result of the ocean tides and gravitational pull, yet couldn’t figure out how Callisto could travel 4.3 AUs and why Earth would be its landing place. 

Your feet thumped against the cracked linoleum of the hotel lobby, the various dividers failing to provide sound barriers between the various groups of engineers and their counterparts as they worked and chattered. After finding the hotel, you’d given most of its space to Eden and her team as well as the brutes working for you. 

You grabbed an apple from one of the food stations before following the sound of Eden’s voice as she argued with someone about the patterns of Callisto in the sky. A radio lulled from the table in the middle of her chaos. She tugged her dull blonde/gray hair back into a ponytail before massaging her aging temples with two fingers. 

The front doors opened, ringing the small bell attached to one of the handles and drawing your attention. The group of men shrugged out of their wet jackets or shook out the rain out of their hair. You scanned the group from Clay’s white ski mask, an intimidating feature that signified who he was. Just as you had given up, he pushed through the crowd, pushing his mask on top of his head. You waved at him and he brightened before walking towards you. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, the smell of the Earth hanging against his damp clothing. 

“I saw something while I was out, and I’ve had a rough time keeping it in my head,” he stated with a slight chuckle, mindlessly asking you to follow him to one of the tables with a few workers. You watched him silently as he fished into the barrels of spare gun parts before throwing what he’d found on the table. The people around you paused what they were doing. Clay’s eyes began to glow, the green almost iridescent as the pieces began to morph together before shaping a new kind of gun. 

That’s really what your group was known for: arms manufacturing and dealing. 

Clay built them and you had the connections to sell them. On paper, it was simple. 

Clay held the gun in his hand, turning it over and looking down at you for praise. You furrowed your blows slightly. “Does it work?” You asked, making him shrug and bump a clip into it before firing it at one of the walls. 

You sighed. “How many times do we have to talk about shooting inside?” He giggled sheepishly at your words. You examined the gun in his large hand, trying to place where you had seen it before. It was a souped-up version of whatever you had previously seen. 

“Looks like a cop gun to me, Dream,” a familiar voice stated, making Clay chuckle proudly before looking up to see Nick with his arms crossed. Clay quickly tucked it into the back of his belt and Nick rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I meant to radio in on my way but I got caught in the storm.” 

You swatted off his apology and hugged him. “It’s good to see you, Sapnap,” Clay lightened. The boys had begun using their radio call names as if they got them from their mothers. “Happy Callisto Day,” Clay charmed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as Nick picked up a gun piece. 

Nick’s eyes flashed to the burn scar on your wrist from him. The fever he had was due to his power. Clay always teases him with nicknames like Prince Zuko and Warren Peace for it. “Have you guys seen Karl? I have a friend that figured out how to make something similar to nail polish.” 

You snorted. “He should be hovering around Eden,” you answered, gesturing to the opposite corner of the lobby space. 

After Nick parted, Clay turned back to you. “I think I found a way to get supplies into the East Sector…” he mumbled, just audible enough for you to hear. You perked an eyebrow at him. The East Sector had been closed off to any kind of weaponry, but that didn’t mean the demand wasn’t high. It was a farming community outside of the city where most of the religious zealots lived and based the Cult of Callisto. 

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “How dangerous is this  way  you’ve found?” 

Clay smirked slightly. “They call him Techno. He’s a chlorokinetic. Apparently, he kills people and turns them into plant food too,” he stated, wiggling his eyebrows. “Plus, he’s an enemy of Quackity’s group.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the table behind him. 

“So, pretty dangerous, then?” You simplified. 

He smiled slightly. “In a fun way…” 

[ihatecoconut]

Explaining Earth

“So, your species… repopulated a town that was previously decimated by a volcanic eruption, had psychological plagues where you danced until you died, had vast civilizations each with their own stories of triumph and great tragedy, and had eras of monarchy and rulers that were simply… overthrown by the masses?”

“Well, yeah, that’s some of it. There’s so much history on Earth. Every person has a story. And that’s not even counting the vast number of non-fiction, fiction, conspiracy theories, and simply unknown bits.”

“…Your species is terrifying, how have you not died yet?”

I laughed slightly at the utterly horrified expression on their face, “I don’t really have an answer to that.”

The government agents that were watching from the other end of the room glared at me, I wasn’t certain whether it was for laughing or whether it was for admitting I didn’t know something, but the actual alien in front of me seemed unbothered by both, so I let it go.

Rather than responding, the alien leaned back in their chair- a gesture I couldn’t help but think of as oddly human- and wiggled their antenna thoughtfully. Evidently, they were thinking about something, so I left them to it and wandered back to the other side of the room. My father paused to give me a harried smile before returning to his computer. One of his colleagues patted me on the shoulder.

“You’re doing a good job, kid.”

My father nodded, “Thank you for this, darling.”

There was no apology, as he had given me many times earlier, for thrusting me into this situation unprepared. I think he felt guilty for not really giving me a choice in the matter: the alien wants to learn about Earth’s history? We don’t have a historian on the payroll? Your daughter is a third-year university student who is studying history? Bring her in.

There’s a one-way mirror behind my father and the few other agents the alien allowed us to keep in the room, and I assume someone important stands behind it, but I was woken up at half five this morning, made to sign literally hundreds on NDAs, and have now been talking for nearly three hours- not to mention, I did actually have plans for today that were over-ridden by the government’s needs- so I use it to check my hair and make-up, and ask for a glass of water. The glass appears almost immediately, so I guess they must have been predicting that I would ask for it.

My father looks up from his laptop at that point and smiles at me again, slightly more focused, “You doing ok over there?”

I nod. “It’s a bit like revision.”

He laughs, “A good opportunity to get all your knowledge out there.”

I used to do it as a revision technique before I moved out- the two of us would sit down, him with my notes, and I would just tell him everything I could remember, and he could ask questions if I wasn’t being clear. I have kind of missed it. And him.

The alien calls my name and I’m back on explaining-Earth duty.

Based on the prompt in bold by @writing-ideas-inc 

@givethispromptatry​

[potteresque-ire]

This is a response to @rainbowsky​ ‘s questions about BJYX, as the original post got too long for reblogging (I hope this is okay!). 1) Should we be worried about GG and DD being outed? I often think about what it’s like to be in the closet and I know how it feels to need to be SEEN. But I also understand the reasons why that might not be an option for them. Still, I worry about them being involuntarily outed. There are so many antis after them.

 2) What would you speculate is the likelihood of this ever happening, and what might be the consequences if it happened?Is leaving an option for them, even as a distant goal years from now?

3)Does their fame and popularity hold any protective power in the situation (i.e. if they were to come out or be outed, would public opinion about what might happen to them have any impact on the outcome given the nature of the regime)? To what degree would that depend on how much money they are still able to make for interested parties?

My response is under the cut, as it got long, as usual ~

@rainbowsky, you’re among the first BXGs I followed! I’d like to thank you for your insightful posts as well!

Your questions ~ I don’t think I’m qualified to speculate because I’m still a very new turtle and also because of the volatility as well as inconsistencies of China’s sociopolitical policies. I do have a better sense of China’s politics than most international fans, but I also don’t live there and the only way to truly understand how things work at the ground level in a non-transparent country like China is to be there.

(For example, China has officially banned Christmas celebrations  for the last several years, but as we saw last week, commercials remain very “Christmas-sy” and Chinese fans happily said Merry Christmas to each other. It takes someone who lives inside to know where to draw the line — what is permitted by the state and what isn’t — when the line shifts and adjusts accordingly.)

Here’re my thoughts, as of today (2020/12/31): if the perpetrator is only some segment of the fandom and the purpose is merely to knock them off the popularity pedestal, outing isn’t a particularly effective way to do so. Homosexuality, being a highly regulated subject in Chinese news and social media, is likely to mean limit transmission of the accusations. The accuser also has to run to risk of being banned themselves first. Also, with BJYX + ZSWW + LSFY being the sizes they are, the people who will most consider turning against gg and dd, ie, the solo fans, have probably already heard something. Some will leave, but the news won’t be a bombshell to them.

The next possibility is if a legal case becomes possible, ie. if China suddenly outlaws homosexuality. This scenario may seem the most dire on the surface but is also one that I least worry about, because with China’s judiciary system being very biased to those in power, if someone wants to frame gg and dd, they do not need to use sexuality as the accusation and subject themselves to the same restrictions as mentioned above. Tax evasion, as @peekbackstage has mentioned with the actress Fan Bing Bing, is far easier, because it tends the turn the audience against the defendant: these stars are making so much money and yet they’re not contributing their share! And as long as the accusers have sufficient power — remembering that commercial and political power are married in the country — the accuser can make up any evidence to suit their needs for any crime.

The third possibility is what I see as the worst case scenario: that the government decides they don’t want their major stars / entertainment industry to be *perceived* as queer — whether the stars are officially out doesn’t matter — and signals the media and commercial companies to stop using any “suspect” star altogether. (Chinese term: 封殺). This is the case of career murder without blood —  laws aren’t changed; all the fans will hear are rumours confirmed by nobody. I see this as a possibility because of the Xi regime’s view of The Ideal Men , and my admittedly limited experience with dealing with older generations of Chinese, who I’ve found tend to confuse perceived femininity in men with queerness. I think, and this is only my opinion, that the sheer amount of adapted BL dramas in production (the so-called “dangai 耽改 101” phenomenon) and the heated discussions of them on Weibo will at some point trigger the government (which is made mostly of older generations Chinese). Even if gg and dd don’t do anything, should the government decide these adapted BL dramas, even after the elimination of their queer element, are “non mainstream socialist core values”, all the major people involved with the Untamed—arguably the classic and the drama whose success all these follow-ups are trying to imitate—can be cast as the culprit. If the same officials become aware of BJYX and if they’re somehow convinced that BJYXSZD, it can be easy be used as evidence of the bad influence these dramas can do—“they can turn people gay”—and it doesn’t help that according to reports, gg, at least, used to have a girlfriend.

Something more to consider: Gg and dd are also in a very special position now, in that not only are they immensely popular in China, no other native mainland Chinese stars have achieved this level of international fame with a native mainland Chinese production (ie, not a production from Hollywood, Hong Kong or Taiwan, or with a Kpop band). As such, they are likely subjected to high levels of scrutiny from the state. Depending on who’s in charge in the appropriate department, they may decide gg and dd have to be China’s image; they may have a set idea of what image it is and most likely, it won’t be queer. 2021 and the first quarter of 2022 are special times for China, image wise, both at home and abroad. 2021 is the 100th anniversary of the Chinese Communist Party, and gg and dd are both starring in its propaganda productions (dd as a police in BAH and gg as an army officer in AT). CCTV, the state-controlled TV station, is already promoting these shows. So, for 2021, gg and dd are slated to not only be the faces of Chinese entertainment, but also the image of Chinese uniformed forces. If gg and dd come out or are outed, their allowing themselves to be being perceived as queer while donning uniforms will most likely to be viewed by the current regime as an embarrassment; a career murder, then, is an apt response to such transgression. 2022 is the year of Beijing’s Winter Olympics, so again, it’s the time where image matters.

You may have noticed a pattern, as I have as I write this up: them being outed is something to worry about, but also ... nothing more than anything else. If someone wants to tear gg and dd down — and there will be, given their massive commercial power right now and the increasing evidence that they’re working more like collaborators than competitors (ie, they aren’t about to tear each other down any time soon) — they do not need their sexuality as a reason.

(And if these accusers really want to use homosexuality as a reason, the unofficial BTS is, IMO, more than enough, as long as the accusers have sufficient power.)

Your other question ~ can gg and dd’s fame, popularity, and ability to draw consumers protect them? My (slightly) educated guess of the answer, then, is that it’s very much a double-edged sword. Indeed, the one major thing that may be going for these adapted BL dramas, and for those who come to superstardom to it — with gg and dd being the prime examples — is the economic health of China, which, by some reports that can no way be verified, are far worse than what has been reported. This is the thing about countries lack transparency; without reliable news, there’s no way to get the facts. Reports on China outside the country tend to be either propaganda or demonising / filled with conspiracy theories, and the truth is probably somewhere in between. If the reports of poor economy are true, the commercial sector — which, again, is tied to those with political power; ie the money made in the former goes into the pockets of the latter — desperately needs stars like gg and dd to move products (based on those recent consumer reports!) and with that, it will want to keep gg and dd and these dramas that can potentially make more gg and dd around. This *seems* to be what’s happening so far, with the the state-run media happy to show gg and dd’s dramas (when it should know, at least, that they got to the height of their fame playing lovers-not-lovers) and gg and dd’s sponsors not-so-subtly wooing the BJYX segment of fandom, so I’m tentatively optimistic. However, the current regime has also shown a willingness to sacrifice the economy for the sake of political ideology, so it’s not something to be taken for granted. (What’s going on in Hong Kong is a good example of that.)

(I always think, eat each candy like it can be the last one. With this regime, it can be. We can wake up tomorrow and gg and dd have to break up BJYX to protect the fans.)

(I always think, treasure, treasure, treasure. Ask for more dy and lz and Weibo posts, but never anymore from gg and dd when it comes to insights of their relationship, even without considering it’s actually their private lives and they’re under no obligation to share.)

(They’ve shared with us far more than enough.)

There’s really no precedence for us to predict the future of an outed gg and dd from, as far as I know. Confirmed queer stars in Chinese entertainment (those with sufficient followers to make news) have all been from Hong Kong, Taiwan and other countries. The successful BL dramas before The Untamed — Addicted (2016) and The Guardian (2018) — didn’t have a real-person cp that truly took off. Addicted, a true BL drama (ie, it retained the queer elements), was banned before it finished its broadcast. The two actors were also banned from appearing together afterwards, and this “signal” from the government almost cost the two actors their career. Bai Yu from The Guardian, meanwhile, already had a girlfriend as he filmed, so there was never a Weibo supertopic dedicated to him and Zhu Yilong. gg and dd, along with their millions of turtles, are treading untrodden ground.

Something I should clarify ~ all the things I said above may sound very scary to international fans, but to those who live in the country, they understand it as the way things are, and they strategise and move accordingly. This is their way of life. What I wanted to say, in my first reblog, is that we who’re outside may not understand why they do things the way they do, why they don’t, for example, come out with all the candies they are spending so much effort to give out, but I do believe that gg and dd have a plan, not in the sense that they’re scheming or trying to trick anyone, but that they are moving things along at the pace necessary to meet the pre-requisites for the outcome they want. What this outcome is is anyone’s guess, mine being that they have the freedom to work together, not necessary in lover’s capacity — most of us are not required to perform our day jobs carrying our identity as so-and-so’s significant other and gg and dd shouldn’t be exceptions — but as colleagues, professionals and friends (lovers are friends). 

To some international fans, this may sound implausible, ridiculous: why do they need a multi year campaign for something as simple as this? As working together again? And I suppose, all these words I’ve typed so far is my attempt to answer this question, to ease the … unease, the frustration of those who may not understand. True to its marxist root, perhaps, many things that are considered mindless, effortless tasks elsewhere somehow become battles, grand struggles of sorts in China. That sea of sea lights on the night of Tencent awards, for example? It was the result of gg’s fans fighting, strategising in real time to smuggle those LED banners in when they realised the venue had forbidden their entry. They wrapped the banners around their bodies under their underwear because they were patted down by security at the underwear level; they hid batteries in their shoes. They ran batteries from one zone in the stadium to another during the whole show for whose who only managed to smuggle in banners or batteries. They fought the security guards inside the stadium, who continued to snatch away their banners even after seeing they were merely support material for the idols. They fought and fought, despite their identities were recorded by their COVID pass and facial recognition. Many confessed they had no idea what gg was singing during the show; they were too busy. They were there, some paying scalpers > 10x the ticket price, just because they promised the sea of red would be there for gg when he returned. When some realised dd’s banners were confiscated in high numbers because his fans happened to have seats right by the strictest security, they improvised, found an image of a green block to show on their cell phones to make makeshift green support lights for dd. They used Weibo to spread this trick to fellow fans. All these trouble, all these effort, all these planning and scheming and sweat and tears — all for one night, one concert and they laughed about it, called it a wonderful day.

(There are many ways for lives to be hard.)

The very first thing gg and dd need to accomplish, therefore, isn’t to announce what they do in the bedroom—the very first thing they need, for their plan to come to fruition, is to stay on top of the industry. How can they be on the same stage for the yearly Tencent Awards if either of them fails to make VIP? What’s their negotiation chip for a future collaboration, when the current norm is against cps like them working together again, if they cannot draw enough viewers and consumers, or if they offend Tencent and other media companies by refusing to see to the needs of the other side (for example, the need to promote new dramas)? So far, the two of them have accomplished this in flying colours. The other thing they need right now, the way I see it, is for their fans to get along. I think part of the reason they’ve made BJYXSZD so easy to believe in and love, in addition to their very human need to be seen when their careers may be safer otherwise (yes, I think they know what they’re doing, the candies they’re throwing), is because they want their fans to unite, as they have united. To make sure something like 227 cannot happen again, or at least, if it does happen again, their fans cannot be used as an excuse, as scapegoats. And this union is happening — slowly, but it’s happening. The size of BJYX (>2.8 million as of now, on Weibo supertopic) is a powerful indicator; I also had a wonderful time reading the comments of gg’s solo fans who went to purchase dd’s new song. This is the part gg and dd need their fan’s help. This is the one of the fews things we, as overseas fans who have limited access to their products, can help.

Your final question — sorry, this is getting so long again — about leaving. Of course, it’s always up to the government and It’s impossible to say what can happen so far ahead. But my perception, right now at least, is that gg and dd have no intention to leave, no intention to sacrifice their career for their personal lives and vice versa. After all, this is a pair who has answered those A vs B choice questions with a straight-faced “I want both” and “so annoying” without a follow-up reply. They’re right to want both. I like them for wanting both. And maybe, with their intelligence, charisma and hardwork and ambition and personalities that seem to clash but somehow complements each other’s, they will figure out a way. Maybe they are, as the Chinese turtles call them, the Chosen Pair, and they will be the ones who’ll change the perception fo queer artists in China, and we’ll one day get a biography about them and laugh at the candies we get right, laugh harder at those candies we get totally wrong.

(Dd ~ I want your honest opinion, in your own words, on the ones we get wrong.)

(Gg ~ videos of your expressions while reading the crazy theories the first time will be very much appreciated. By me.)

It’s a good day to look forward to.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 7

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Saturday brings an unexpected heat wave, the high temperatures uncharacteristic even for D.C. Dana has grappled all week with how to explain her Saturday evening plans to Ethan. Her instinct is to lie, to tell him she’s getting dinner with Missy or has to go into work for an emergency autopsy. But lying makes it impossible to tell herself that what she’s doing isn’t wrong; if she has nothing to hide, why would she be hiding it? In the end, she goes with vague truth and tells him that she’s meeting up with a colleague to discuss some interesting new research they shared with her. Never mind that said colleague is a very handsome and apparently very single man. Never mind that she feels a rush between her legs whenever she pictures his cocky smile. Meeting with a colleague. Interesting research. Nothing more.

She and Ethan spend the morning lying around in their underwear, too overheated to do anything else. The air conditioning hums and sputters, trying to keep up, but it's no match for the sweltering heat.

“Do we have ice cream?” Ethan asks, splayed out on his back against the hardwood clad in green boxer shorts.

“Nope, I ate it all when I was PMSing last week,” she replies from the couch, arms and legs draped off the sides so that no part of her body is touching any other.

They are quiet for a bit.

“Wanna have sex?” Ethan asks offhandedly, and she feels a flush of dread.

“Too hot,” she replies with an equally offhand tone, glad he can’t see her face.

They are quiet again.

“Are you okay, Dana?” he asks hesitantly, his eyes on the ceiling. She waits a little too long to answer.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just...you don’t seem like yourself. Since we got engaged, I mean. You seem kind of distracted. Distant, maybe?”

She takes a steadying breath. She knows he’s right. If she were honest, she’d tell him that she feels crushing guilt for being so infatuated with another man. That she feels like a horrible girlfriend, fiancée, almost-wife, for continuing to seek out interactions with him, but she can’t bring herself to stop. That she loves Ethan, so much, but can’t deny the pull that Mulder has on her. That she feels like she’s cheating when they have sex, because Mulder invariably takes his place in her mind. But she can’t tell him any of that.

She rolls to her side so she can look at him.

“I’m sorry, Ethan. I guess I’m just feeling overwhelmed lately, with work and the wedding. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

He rolls his head to the side to meet her eye.

“So you’re not having doubts? About getting married?” The pain and worry in his voice is like a kick in the gut.

“Of course not,” she implores, crawling off the couch and across the floor to where he lays. She gingerly throws a leg over his hip and straddles him, placing her hands on his sweat-damp chest and leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. “I can’t wait to be your wife,” she says with a soft smile, and the twist in her belly alerts her to the fact that this might be a lie.

They make love, there on the living room floor. She keeps her eyes open, not allowing her mind to wander from this moment, this man. Not allowing herself to admit that this is a consolation, an attempt to prove to them both that she is in this, with him, for the long haul. Her orgasm is weak and brief, not the same. Nothing is the same, anymore. Not since Mulder waltzed into the autopsy bay and complicated her life.

————————

The heat has abated only slightly by 5:30 as she’s preparing to leave her apartment and head to Mulder’s. She debates what to wear for an agonizingly long time; the temperature calls for a dress or shorts, but she fears sending the wrong message if it looks like she’s intentionally bearing skin. She finally settles on a black maxi dress, a compromise in coverage and air flow, paired with flip flops. Casual, not trying too hard, but not frumpy either.

As she makes for the door, Ethan stops her with a gentle grasp on her wrist, pulling her to him.

“You look beautiful,” he says with an affectionate gaze, and that guilty feeling in her belly is back. Their impromptu living room floor love-making seems to have assuaged his concerns over her demeanor for the time being, but it only served to deepen her own inner turmoil.

“Thank you,” she replies before kissing him on the cheek and escaping the emotional heat of their apartment for the temperate heat of the DC evening.

2630 Hegal Place is a stately brick building that has been decently maintained. It’s not as nice as her neighborhood in Georgetown, but it’s hardly the slum that Mulder suggested it was. She feels a little sick as she rides the elevator up to the fourth floor, taking in the dark wood trim against the yellowing walls of his hallway. She finds apartment forty-two and pauses outside the door for a long while. She has a feeling that walking through this door is a decision with consequences, one she shouldn’t take lightly. She realizes she’s not wearing her engagement ring; it’s likely sitting on the bathroom counter beside the sink. A simple oversight; she’s not yet used to wearing it. Certainly not a Freudian slip of the mind...she has the sudden overwhelming urge to flee. Perhaps she knows exactly what she’s doing after all. She turns to walk back to the elevator when the door swings open, startling her.

“Scully,” he says with a lopsided smile.

He’s wearing dark wash jeans, his top half bare, a bag of garbage in one hand. Her eyes immediately light on the broad expanse of his chest, smooth and dappled with a light dusting of hair. His abdomen is solid, sleek and defined. A swimmer’s body, she thinks with a sigh.

“I was just taking the trash out, you’re a little early,” he says with a hint of embarrassment, passing her to stuff the bag down the chute at the end of the hall.

“Oh, sorry, am I?” she looks at her watch; it’s 5:55.

“Or maybe I’m just running a little behind,” he replies sheepishly, then lifts his arm and gestures for her to enter the apartment, “please, come in.”

She enters a combination foyer and dining room, the kitchen tucked off to the left and the living room straight ahead. The ambiance matches the hallway, dark wood and yellow walls, the ceilings impressively high. The decor is sparse; nothing on the walls and only small trinkets littering the surfaces, a fish tank burbling near the window. She waits to see where he directs her to go. The dining room table seems like a suitably professional place for two colleagues to review work files. He brushes past her to the living room, the shower-fresh smell of him drifting into her nostrils; Irish Spring and Old Spice.

“You can take a seat,” he says gesturing to the couch, “let me just grab a shirt and the files.” He disappears through a door that must be his bedroom.

She sets her purse on his cluttered desk and sits on one end of the worn leather couch, looking around at his few furnishings. She startles when a black blur springs onto her lap with a high-pitched meow, and Mulder re-enters the room with a bankers box tucked under his arm, his torso now covered by a black T-shirt.

“Jesus, Priscilla, don’t assault the woman,” he says as he sets the box on the coffee table and plucks the cat off her lap. “Sorry about that, she has an affinity for pretty girls,” he continues, then directs his next comment to the cat. “We have that in common, eh, Prissy?”

She feels a flush to her cheeks and he takes the cat with him to the kitchen, returning with two beers in its place.

“I hope your boyfriend doesn’t mind me borrowing you for the evening,” he says as he hands her an open beer.

She looks at him with a mildly shocked expression, his mention of Ethan feeling out of place and somehow obscene. Noticing her discomfort, he changes the subject as he sits on the opposite end of the couch.

“This is all I walked away with, one box of the best, brightest, and weirdest X files I came across during my time. About half are those I investigated myself, the rest were left from the previous agents who started the division,” he slides the box down the coffee table towards her and she plucks the lid off carefully to see dozens of neatly labeled orange folders. She pulls a random one out from the middle and sets her beer on the coffee table, opening the file across her lap.

“So tell me why the X files division was shut down,” she says as she leafs through the pages.

“Well, the official reason is that an investigation into a man with green blood resulted in multiple deaths, which was just the last in a series of...mishaps. But the real reason is that I was too close to the truth.”

She lifts her head from the file to look at him. He has his bare feet propped up on the coffee table, his elbow resting on the arm of the couch. He seems so at ease all the time, so comfortable around her.

“The truth about what?” she asks, working to peel her eyes from his plush lower lip.

He takes a deep breath. “A lot of things, but namely a government conspiracy to conceal the existence of extraterrestrial life, even as they’re conducting experiments and research on said extraterrestrials. Perhaps even working with them.”

It’s that same even, factual delivery. Her mouth blossoms into a slow smile.

“Working with the aliens? To do what, open a KMart on Mars?” she teases, and he returns her smile with one that is so devilish it makes her pelvis twitch.

“Read on, Scully. The more you see, the less crazy it sounds.”

He stands and goes to the stereo, and after a few minutes of fiddling around she hears Radiohead begin to play. “You like Radiohead?” he asks, and she gives a half shrug, half nod. Doesn’t love ‘em, doesn’t hate ‘em.

“So this one appears to be about some kind of tree-dwelling insect?” she asks, reading over details of a dead man sucked dry of all fluids and bound up in a giant cocoon.

Mulder returns to the couch and sits beside her, much closer this time, their thighs nearly touching. The heat of his body on top of the warmth of the air makes new sweat prick at the back of her neck.

“Indeed, prehistoric insects that were released from the inner rings of the tree when they were logged. I nearly got eaten up by them myself,” he remarks, reaching over to turn the pages that lie across her lap. She shivers a little despite the heat.

“And what does that have to do with aliens and government conspiracies?” she asks, keeping her head down, knowing that if she looks up at him he would be close enough to kiss.

“It’s not that straight forward, Scully. There are things, many things, on our planet that are unexplainable, and having control over that which can’t be understood by science and intelligence gives you a certain degree of power. Unfortunately, it’s a power that’s most often used for evil instead of good.”

She does turn to him then, getting an up-close look at the greenish, almost-hazel of his irises, the pronounced bridge of his nose.

“There’s nothing that’s unexplainable on this planet, Mulder. Just because we can’t explain it now doesn’t mean we never will. Consider how much science has progressed in the last fifty years alone. Who knows what we deem unexplainable now that will be perfectly understood in another fifty?”

He tilts his head closer to her and her heart speeds up, her lips parting unconsciously. His smirk is devastatingly sexy, and she suddenly doesn’t trust herself.

“May I use your bathroom?” she asks abruptly, looking away.

“Of course, it’s through the bedroom,” he says, hitching his thumb to the door behind and to their left.

She carefully makes her way into his bedroom, which contains a queen size mattress on a mahogany frame, a dresser, and not much else. He’s a man of simple means, it would seem. The bathroom is clean and devoid of skid marks and stray pubic hairs; the seat is even down. When she returns, he’s placed several of the files in a neat stack on the coffee table.

“These are the ones I’d recommend you read. At least they may be the ones you find most compelling,” he says as she returns to her seat, inching just a bit further away from him than she’d been before.

She takes the first from the stack and opens it. “So how’d you get into all this, Mulder? Have you always been into aliens, or did you see E.T. too many times when it came out?”

He doesn’t answer and she looks at him. He’s considering her, pondering. Deciding whether to tell her something.

Continue Reading here

[therealvinelle]

The illustrious then-@keerka, who now goes by @troquantary, sent me the following ask. Tumblr, of course, ate it, but luckily for us all I store all my asks on an outside server, so it wasn’t lost.

(A moment of silence for the fact that I took so long to answer this one that the ask was eaten and the asker got a new blog in the meantime.)

This was the ask:

Hi! When you have time, I'd love to hear more about your thoughts on the worldbuilding in Twilight and its logical consistency (if that's not too vague a question to even pose). For me it's almost hard to assess because the canon universe feels very...sparse? Kind of undeveloped? But that also means more room to develop headcanons, so I'm not complaining. Curious to know what you think, though!

This is my answer:

I think I’ll divide my answer in two sections, first I’ll give you an example of a franchise that has poor worldbuilding, then get into my thoughts on Meyer’s worldbuilding.

Supernatural.

Low-hanging fruit, but all the better an example for it. 

Supernatural introduces us to a world where everything is real. Everything that goes bump in the night, every myth and every monster, it’s all real, and 99% of them are out to hurt people. Who will stand against this evil, you may ask? Why, a scruffy but all-American bunch of self-declared hunters. These people are not organized, in fact most of them work alone. They are all outlaws. Their expertise is questionable, as Bobby Singer is considered remarkable for the fact that he usually knows what something is.

That’s it.

These people, all of them independent, most of them weird as fuck, are it. You’re in 21st century America, your country wields the most formidable military force in the world, and if something supernatural is wreaking havoc in your town you’d best hope one of these hunter nutjobs happens to have spotted the right newspaper clipping.

We’re offered no explanation as to why the American government doesn’t know about the supernatural, or why the world doesn’t look completely different. In our world, people don’t believe in ghosts because ghosts aren’t real, but in the world of Supernatural, people don’t believe in ghosts because [footage not found].

There’s no demon nor government conspiracy to keep the world at large ignorant, in fact this subject is never broached.

Hunters would make sense if they were bountyhunters, but they’re not. The secrecy could make sense if the angels were behind it, but they’re not.

“Maybe the military does know!” you might say, “it’s just that they don’t let the hunters know they know!” Well, we would have found out in season 5. Dean and Sam were caught up in the apocalypse, the government would definitely have gotten involved with that one.

Then we have the fact that the supernatural entities aren’t internally consistent either. We have angels, demons, humans - good, got it. I know what these three are in relation to each other. But, wait, we have wendigos, banshees, ghosts, witches, vampires, and tricksters as well. How do they all fit into the same world? How does the Christian God and every pagan pantheon, both of which are canon per Supernatural, fit into the same world? Who knows? Not Supernatural.

Supernatural is a world that is written on an episode-to-episode basis, by writers who wanted that gritty bounty-hunter aesthetic for their show about supernatural marks.

Back to Twilight.

Twilight, by comparison, makes a great deal of sense to me. 

I’ll admit that some of this is me reading into the text a lot, but I do that with every fandom I’m in. Twilight is a rare one where I can find an answer to every question.

We have these insanely powerful vampires whose exploits leave no survivors and whose numbers are kept low because it’s so hard to create a new one. They’re kept in line by a powerful organization no one can fight, and new laws are created as Aro discovers new threats (Immortal children, his debate on what to do with Renesmée). There are at least two other supernatural species out there, but of the two mentioned one is in place to protect humans, and the other was run extinct by the very organization that keeps vampires in line as well. None of this is fantheory, this is canon as Meyer created it.

Of course, I’ve gone some strange places in guessing why the Volturi exist, why the world of Twilight looks the same as ours, and why the supernatural world appears so limited. However, all of these things are extrapolated from canon. And I can extrapolate very easily because Twilight canon is consistent.

And this here segues into section two of my reply to you, as I imagine you (and many others reading this) are now saying “It’s not solid worldbuilding if the fans are doing all the work!”

Well, again - the difference between her and a lot of other authors is that when I overthink her work I find satisfying answers. That’s not a given, for instance I can’t do that with GRRM’s A Song and Ice and Fire, and half the point of that series is the worldbuilding! (My complains are many, I had to cut them from this meta, but the big one: why don’t the peasants revolt?)

I can’t think of a single plot hole in Twilight, nor of a logical inconsistency. Something either makes sense right off the bat, or I can look a little closer and easily piece together a logical explanation.

More, there’s no excess. I suppose this is what others don’t like about Meyer’s worldbuilding, but I enjoy it. Characters don’t prattle fun facts about things that ultimately don’t matter to the story, and if they do then it turns out later that yes, it did matter. Quite notably, when Carlisle gives Bella a crash course on vampire history, Meyer skips all of it except the part about immortal children, because that’s what was important. Later in that same book we meet Amun and the Romanians, and learn what the world used to be like, so it’s not like Meyer hadn’t come up with it. She left it out because it would have been off-topic and meandering.

This is where Meyer’s approach to worldbuilding comes in. It seems to me that she created the people and the story first, and then let the world they lived in fall into place around them, rather than the other way around. Now, there’s no right way to worldbuild, but I personally prefer authors who do it this way. To my tastes it generally leads to better stories, as this kind of author will show you the world through the story. We discover it as we go along and it becomes relevant to our characters, and if we don’t learn everything about it then that’s fine, though we’ve been given enough clues to guess. Consistency is key in this.

By contrast, authors who do it the other way around and build the world in full detail first, usually end up with worse stories. They get lost in their worldbuilding more often than not, their worlds end up so complex they’re inconsistent, and the story gets off-topic. Too much worldbuilding distracts from the story while adding nothing.

(There are of course exceptions to both, and I have more thoughts on this, but overall this has been my experience with fiction. Too much worldbuilding is in fact too much.)

The world should always serve the story, not the other way around.

(Again gonna use GRRM as an example. I don’t give a fuck about Aragorn’s tax policy. It’s not important to the story.)

So, these are my rambly thoughts on how I think.

There’s also the fact that, judging by Twilight and The Host, Meyer is just plain good at worldbuilding. She gets very good ideas, and she’s intelligent enough to successfully implement them into a story (look to Supernatural for an un-intelligent way of impleneting good ideas). And that’s all I ask.

[ckret2]

skelien scene 2

Does your executive ever dysfunction so hard that you casually start a novel

###

The skeleton wasn't sure how much time had passed between collapsing into the hammock to get lost in a trivial stream of data, and the sound of someone quietly picking the deadbolt lock. Rolling over to swing its gaze from the blank wall to the nearest window rocked the hammock so violently it almost fell out. Still dark. Or dark again. Hard to tell. Head too fuzzy to find a clock to check.

It reached down to grab up a mask off the floor as it called to the would-be intruder at the door, "It's unlocked."

The quiet scratching stopped. The door didn't open.

Fuck's sake. It rolled out of the hammock gracelessly, tripped over a box of old spelunking gear, and managed to stumble to a vertical position as it clattered toward the door. "I said it's unlocked. That's an implicit invitation, see, it means I want you to come in. Why are you less likely to come in when I actually want you to? Is it only satisfying if you know you're not wanted, is that it?"

The skeleton opened the door. The hall was empty.

"Come on," it griped loudly, unconcerned about how many neighbors it was about to annoy. "What are you here for? Were you here to rob me? Rough me up for somebody I hit? You can come back! I'm fine with that! I've got too much shit anyway! Talk to me about your business model, I'm behind the times on the burglary industry! Seriously"—there was an edge of desperation to its voice—"you've got no idea what a favor you'd be doing me. I'm about to starve to death from boredom. I'm not even offended. Come back?"

The hall was silent.

It considered fighting through its mental haze to try to hunt down the almost-intruder—bolt for the fireproof stairwell and jump the railings to race them down to the first floor—but no, it decided tiredly, there were too many ways it could miss the intruder—what if they went up to the roof, what if they lived in the complex and had gone home, what if it was waiting in the lobby while they were already out on the streets or what if they made it down to the lobby slowly while it was already out on the streets searching—and wandering the over-familiar streets in a fever of boredom didn't seem likely to do anything to clear the haze from their mind or chase the itch from their marrow. It might as well stay here where it was comfortable.

It groaned, let its joints go loose, and collapsed backward on the floor. It lifted one foot to press its calcaneus against the edge of the door and shove it closed.

A shadow moved behind it.

It rolled over with a clatter, grabbed the first object its phalanges brushed—a set of binoculars—and hopped to its feet with the binoculars raised in preparation to use them as an impromptu bludgeoning weapon. Under its breath, it muttered, "Thank fuck."

The figure was silhouetted black in the window, their edges smooth and formless—wearing some kind of robe. Their round goggles reflected all the tiny electronic lights in the room, looking like glittering bug eyes or a multicolored starry sky. It could think of several religious orders that called for robes like that, but no groups with a reputation for sneaking into people's apartments, and none that also mandated goggles like that. Not a uniform, then, but some individual's idea of a stealthy outfit. This could be anybody, sent by anybody.

"Are you here to kill me or hire me?" it asked.

The vague shape didn't move or answer.

"Great. A job." Without turning away, it leaned back to click the deadbolt on its door shut. "Let's lay out some ground rules here. First, I don't intimidate easy. I'm nearly as old as god, I've seen it all, I've done it all, and no matter how mysterious you get, I'm not going to forget that you're either just another person with a home life and interior thoughts or else you're a clever machine built by one. Pull the whole silent-and-inscrutable routine, and I have two emotional reactions: curious or bored. I spend more time than you could possibly imagine bored, so if you keep this up long enough that I run out of curiosity, I kick you out of my window, and you're the one who's going to have to recover from a bad first impression if you still want to hire me. We clear?"

The vague shape remained silent.

"Terrific." It hung its binoculars' strap around its neck and started circling around the shape, half heartedly attempting to clean the room to give its guest an easier walking path and perhaps somewhere to sit. The clutter of hobbies past shifted like sand dunes, opening a vague trail toward a desk whose chair was piled high with calligraphy materials. "Second: if you want me to shut up, give me a reason to. Threats don't count. Either give me something more interesting to do than talk or something more interesting than myself to listen to. It's easier than it sounds. You could start by talking." It looked around for somewhere to set its pile of nice paper and pen boxes, used an elbow to shove a toolkit on the edge of the desk closer to the center, and plopped the papers down where the toolkit had been. "Three—this isn't a rule, but I'm going to forget it if I don't say it now—" It plopped down in the desk chair and fixed its guest with a keen look. "I'm very interested in that little trick you pulled—getting past me without me seeing. How did you pull that off?" It realized it had taken the seat it had been clearing off for its guest, hopped up, and gestured invitingly to it. "Some kind of invisibility tech? An accomplice at the door to distract me while you sneak in the window? Are you a little drone in a big cloak that shuffled across the floor like a pile of moving laundry while I was looking down the hall?"

The shape didn't answer; but after a moment, they swept across the floor to claim the empty seat. They cut a smooth path across the cluttered floor, no lurching or zigzagging to dodge the many items underfoot; and the skeleton didn't feel the air stir as they passed.

"A drone," it concluded. "Not wearing laundry, though. A hologram projector?" Guessing, it added, "Shoved in through the keyhole?"

"Clever." The shape's voice emanated from behind its goggles and was slightly tinny, as if coming through a cheap earbud, and sounded just on the masculine side of androgyny. "It's not what we need you for, though."

"That's what you think." The skeleton danced through its clutter like navigating an obstacle course, tripped again over the spelunking supplies, and heaved itself into its hammock. "But go on, you've got my attention. Undivided, even. What's the job, Mr. Googly Eyes?" It tilted its head. "Mister? Miss? Other?"

"Mister is fine," Googly Eyes said. "We believe we've identified a grave threat to our nation's government. We think you're well-qualified to deal with it."

"You sound like a conspiracy nut. That's not a dealbreaker, conspiracy nuts are fun, but I thought you should know," the skeleton said. "You say 'we've identified,' who's 'we'?"

"The government."

"You sound a little less like a conspiracy nut. Can you prove it?"

"Through a hologram messenger in the middle of the night? No."

"Fair. What kind of threat to the government?"

"I can't discuss the details—"

"No no, just a broad overview," the skeleton said. "Just this much: religious or secular?"

Googly Eyes was silent, head turning to the side as if glancing back over his shoulder at the wall. The skeleton could imagine him covering his microphone as he whispered a hasty question to some supervisor.

But after a moment he faced the skeleton again. "Secular."

"All right. I'm in."

Sounding faintly amused, he said, "Only knowing that much?"

"You know how easily bored I get, don't you?"

"It's mentioned in your file, yes."

"Does it mention the kind of things I do when I'm very bored?"

Googly Eyes stayed silent.

The skeleton leaned forward, so far it threatened to tumble out of its hammock. "Right now, I am very bored," it said. "I'm in."

[fireemblems24]

I am so glad you pointed out the imperialist vibes Edelgard has sometimes. As someone who lives in a country who was basically occupied ahem conquered because they said "we have better ideas that will improve your lives" and had our culture absolutely shattered, one of the main reasons why I disagree with Edelgard so much is because of that. She thinks her point of view is superior and the most morally right and I really don't like it whenever she sounds so confused about people defending their homeland. Especially that one line she has with Dimitri in Chapter 17 ffffff—

Like, girl, they have the fucking right to disagree with you please stop sounding so confused as to why they can't see eye to eye with you gahhhhh

I would be more tolerant with the war if she had say, did diplomacy before it? But she tried to had Dimitri and Claude killed in Part I (the prologue). I would also understand her better if the war was a last resort and the other leaders were corrupt and all that. But they're not. Many of the students (who have power because many are noble heirs) outside her house are heavily affected by the nobility and Crests (Sylvain, Ingrid, Mercedes, Lysithea, etc.) or at least understanding of the problems caused by them (Dimitri). It's so frustrating how so much of this can be prevented if she just talked about it.

Also, to those who said she wants the change to be quick, even with war it won't be. The fucking war basically caused continent-wide damage. It's going to be so hard to actually fix this. Hell, there's definitely going to be an eventual rebellion by former Kingdom / Alliance people or sympathisers. It's not going to be as clean cut as the game or some pro-Edelgard people make it to be. Not everyone is going to agree with her, whether she takes over or not. She just destroyed the stability of the continent and while yes, she can rebuild it again, it will still take time and who's to say future leaders won't be corrupt? Also, a hierarchy will always exist, whether she likes it or not. Especially if she plans to set up a meritocracy. Meritocracy is going to usually end up giving power and privilege to those with already pre-existing privilege as they the opportunity to show off their merits or develop those skills. Poor and disabled people are going to have difficulty as they don't have equal opportunity to develop skills and accomplish stuff. I'm generalising, but it just ends up as a hierarchy, again. Not only that, it also has ways to enforce discrimination.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is, she needs to long term plan out her systems. I apologise since I have bad memory but as far as I remember, the game doesn't give us too many details on how she wants to establish her system. All I remember is she does the war > Church / Rhea out of power > Establish her government > ???. Someone please clear this up for me because I'm confused.

...and again really, diplomatic reforms are an option. Yes, they're much more tedious. Yes, they take so much more longer. Yes, sometimes it feels impossible to accomplish. But did she not even consider it as an option?

All in all, I do like Edelgard. But I really wish the game let us go against her while we're with her? I wish it wasn't just general "agree with Edelgard" for CF. I remember someone pointing it out to me before that it would've been really great if she had someone in her house who does the same role Felix does in AM... which is basically disagree and call out the lord's shit. And they pointed out Ferdinand could've probably been that character for CF. And I kinda agree? I really think CF would immensely improve if Edelgard had a challenger / foil to her beliefs similar to how Felix does that for Dimitri.

Anyway, sorry for the very long ask lol. I like Edelgard and I agree with some of her morals and ideals such as the crest system being bad but....she's done so dirty asdfghjkl. I do think she's written well enough to incite these emotions in me, and she makes for a good antagonist. As a protagonist lord however.... yeah.

First off, sorry it took so long to respond, but I wanted to give an equally throughout response. 

While I haven’t gotten to chapter 17 yet, I can attest to the notion that Edelgard’s rhetoric is eerily similar to Imperialist propaganda. I do understand this is fiction, and that it’s okay to hand-wave/enjoy things in fiction that you shouldn’t or wouldn’t in real life. Crimson Flower has its charms and parts I enjoy. Edelgard is an interesting character more hampered by things that plague Three Houses as a whole than anything else, but it’s still worth examining how dangerous her rhetoric is. Because, unlike you, my country sits at the opposite end - the Imperialist nation selling that rhetoric to its citizens, and, unfortunately, at the time I bought it - which makes me really sensitive to this. 

I’m from the US and I’m specifically speaking about the US’s invasion of the Middle East. I was in middle or high school, just barely a teenager, and naive and ignorant enough to believe what my leaders said. Because guess what? I bought into it out of misplaced and ignorant (and racist) compassion. I was horrified at the idea these people were suffering unfairly just because of where they were born whereas I got all these promised privileges just because of where I was born. I really thought the US would go in there and give them democracy and everything would be great. Looking back, I realize they were lying, that we’ve only made things worse, that it’s horribly racist to assume the US was just inherently better, and I’ve sense then gained access to fast-speed internet, traveled, matured, etc . . . and thankfully this all happened before I had any actual power to do anything like vote. But to this day I’m beyond pissed off they used my own compassion against me to line their own pockets. It was ignorant and racist, but it was all based in concern that others didn’t have the same quality of life I had and a growing realization of my own privilege. And that’s what I hate so much. It didn’t sound evil. It sounded good. It used people’s good will and compassion against them and twisted it into evil for their own causes. 

I don’t think Edelgard is after Faerghus and the Alliance because she wants oil. I think she honestly thinks she’s doing good. And, if this were real life, I think that makes her rhetoric even more dangerous than a corrupt politicians’.  Because everything else is still the same. She’s being ignorant, nationalist instead of racist in this case, and honestly thinks her moral superiority will improve everyone’s lives even if it means ravaging the entire content in war. She is dangerously naive and ignorant. 

Maybe I’d support her more morally if I believed for an instant the general populace welcomed the changes she wants to bring, if the leaders she fought against weren’t open and wanting change themselves, ect . . . But the dialogue indicated her presence inspires people running and screaming in terror, not welcoming her presence (see the chapter where you kill Claude). The Kingdom is still fighting tooth and nail against her. She’s not supported. Her changes aren’t wanted. And she hasn’t bothered to learn a single thing about the cultures she’s determined to squash under her heal nor the leaders heading them. 

I also think I’d support her better if we had a clearer idea of what her plans were. But CF has shifted from Edelgard speaking about interesting ideas and classism to evil dragon overlords and chastising Byleth for making her blush. The decision to side with her or Rhea is not choosing between two ideals, but an emotional, spur of the moment thing. Edelgard’s early supports with Byleth attempt to convince the player to side with her not based on political ideals, but on feeling sorry for her. 

CF gives you no choice but to agree with everything Edelgard says (as you said, there’s no “Felix” or a “Lorenz”). It wants you to support her war without question, and therefore you don’t get any answers to questions like - if this is really just about Rhea, why are we invading the Alliance? Because they won’t hand power over to you? Why didn’t you just stick to the Empire to enact your changes? In the end, you’re left with what sounds more and more like an entitled Imperialistic princess with absolutely no idea how ignorant she is hell bent on conquering what she thinks belongs to her based on a conspiracy theory. 

All that said, I do think Edelgard has interesting ideas and isn’t wholly wrong, just how she goes about it is horribly wrong. And I fully believe the core issue is how CF has dropped the ball big time writing wise, because diving deeper into her ideas and not her crush on you would go a long way. So would shifting the narrative away from evil boogey dragon lady must die and everyone else is wrong and I am superior and right and more towards a clashing of ideals, this route could’ve been a lot more and seemed a lot less ignorant, naive, entitled, and Imperialistic. 

[calwrites]

The Illusion (part 2)

Summary: Reader’s secrets are revealed during the worst funeral ever. Five returns with some not so great news.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Umbrella Academy!Reader

Warnings: Umbrella Academy spoilers I guess?

Word Count: 7k

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

Earlier that morning

“So what’s with the early meeting, Hotch? I thought we had the weekend off.” Derek dropped into a seat in the briefing room. The only person still missing was Y/N.

“A high profile case came up. The director wants us to look into it. As discreetly as possible.” Hotch pressed a button on the clicker and a picture of Reginald Hargreeves came onto the screen.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Y/N?” Spencer asked.

“And aren’t the news reports saying he died of natural causes?” Emily added.

“Y/N is taking a few days off, so she won’t be coming with us. I’ll give her an update on the case when we get there, so she is aware of it,” Hotch answered, his face stoic. “The coroner says Hargreeves died of heart failure. The director wants us to go in and determine whether there’s anything pointing towards foul play that the local PD missed. Considering who Hargreeves and his children are, there’s bound to be some conspiracy theorists who say he was murdered.”

“Wouldn’t the presence of the FBI just make them think that the government killed him and we’re there to cover it up?” Emily asked.

“The idea is that if both the FBI and his children say that he died of natural causes, the conspiracy theorists will have to believe it. If the government killed him, his children wouldn’t let that go. If someone else killed him, we find out who. We treat this like it’s any other case.”

“Are his children suspects?” Derek asked carefully. Hotch levelled his gaze at him.

“They grew up as vigilantes working outside the law. At least one of them still does that. They all have reasons to be upset with their father. We can’t rule them out.”

“I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the Umbrella Academy and I have to investigate them for murder,” Derek muttered as he flipped through the file.

“I can’t believe Y/N isn’t going to be there,” Spencer sighed. Immediately, everyone’s eyes were either rolling or staring at him.

“Maybe you should just ask her out already,” JJ suggested in a tone that made it clear she had made the suggestion before.

“You take her on enough dates,” Derek teased. Spencer’s face grew red, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he sped through the files.

The varying levels of knowledge about each member of The Umbrella Academy was strange. On the one hand was Allison, who was now famous enough that everyone knew everything about her life, and Vanya, who had revealed everything about her childhood in her tell-all book. On the other hand was The Illusion, who had left the team when she was 17. Nothing was known about her, not even her name. Even the other three didn’t have a lot about them in the files. One never left The Umbrella Academy. One was a vigilante. One was in and out of rehab pretty regularly.

Based on what they did know about Hargreeves’s adopted children, it could be difficult getting anything from them if they were hiding anything. Based on their childhood, it would be doubtful that they would turn one of their own over to outsiders, even if one of them did kill their father. It was more likely that they would sort it out amongst themselves after pushing the outsiders away. That would make the BAU’s job difficult.

“Wheels’ up in 30.”

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

“Nice house,” Emily commented as she, Derek, and Spencer got out of the car. They had been sent to talk to Hargreeves’s kids, while the rest of the team set up at the local PD. The three FBI agents walked up the steps and knocked on the door. They waited for a minute, but there was no answer, so Derek knocked again, harder this time.

The door flew open. “Can I help you?”

Spencer blinked in surprise. Standing before them was Allison Hargreeves. Spencer was normally pretty lost when it came to celebrities, but Y/N had taken him to a few of her movies over the years. Even though he knew that he would probably meet her during the case, it was strange to see her in person.

“FBI, ma’am,” Derek said, showing her his badge. Emily and Spencer followed suit. Allison’s eyes widened and it looked, Spencer thought, like she was worried about something. “We’re here to investigate your father’s death.”

“My father died of natural causes. That’s what the coroner told us.” Voices floated through the door. It sounded like some people in the house were having a very loud conversation.

“That’s what the coroner told us too. We’re just here to make sure local PD didn’t miss anything that could set the conspiracy theorists off. Stop them before they can really start,” Emily explained.

“Do you have to do it now?” Allison asked. “We were in the middle of trying to plan a memorial for our father.”

“We realize that this is a difficult time for your family. However, we really need to take a look around before the scene is any more contaminated than it already is,” Derek said. The voices coming from inside the house were growing louder.

“You think one of us did it, don’t you?” Spencer hadn’t noticed the woman standing behind Allison. Vanya, the normal one. She didn’t sound surprised or angry, like Spencer had expected. She just looked weary. Allison too didn’t look shocked by the news that they were suspects. It was like someone already told her.

“I think it would be better if you came back tomorrow,” Allison said firmly. “This has all been a shock to us. We just want to spread our father’s ashes and then get back to our lives.”

“We’d like to look around now. We won’t disturb you until you tell us that you’re ready to talk to us, but we really need to look at the scene now. We have a warrant.” Emily held up the warrant. Allison and Vanya looked at it with distaste, but didn’t say anything. They were trying to figure out a way to get them to leave.

The voices suddenly became screams coming from inside the house. Probably cause. Derek and Emily immediately had their guns drawn and were making their way towards the noise. Spencer followed slightly behind them. They reached what appeared to be the main living room. Two men were screaming, clutching their heads. On the ground, her back to the FBI agents, was a familiar figure. Spencer couldn’t see her face, but it looked so much like Y/N. The hair. The posture. But it couldn’t be her.

Allison made her way in front of the agents. She shook her head slightly, like she was a mom about to have to deal with misbehaving kids. “I heard a rumor that you stopped.”

Immediately, the two men collapsed on the floor. A third man was at the woman’s side quickly, keeping her from falling completely onto the floor. He handed her a drink, which she drank quickly.

“Remind me not to mess with Y/N again,” one man said. Y/N? It couldn’t actually be Y/N. It was just a coincidence.

“I guess I got a little carried away.” That was definitely Y/N’s voice. And the laugh that followed was Y/N’s laugh. Spencer looked in shock at Derek and Emily. Their eyes were wide as the two men started to laugh with Y/N.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked before he could stop himself.

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

You stared in shock at Spencer. Emily and Derek were next to him. It didn’t make any sense, though. There was no reason for them to be here. From the looks on their faces it didn’t look like they were expecting to see you either. Which meant, you realized, that they were here to investigate your father’s death.

“You can’t be serious, Luther.” Evidently Diego came to the same conclusion. “I mean, you got detectives here? Or PIs? You’re really that sure that one of us killed Dad.”

“Diego,” Luther responded harshly. “I didn’t hire any PIs. I don’t know who these people are.” Diego’s eyes widened. He and Luther both stood up quickly. Klaus helped you up. Your legs were still a bit shaky, but you tried not to let it show.

“FBI,” Derek said. The three of them showed their badges. Spencer was still staring at you. Emily and Derek were trying to focus on your brothers, but their eyes kept glancing at you every few seconds.

“Oh, maybe you know my sister-”

“Klaus,” Luther and Diego both interjected quickly.

“-my sister Allison,” Klaus corrected himself. “She’s very famous. Do you know of her?”

“Don’t worry, Klaus,” you said. “They’re on the BAU. Agents Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss and Dr. Spencer Reid. My coworkers.” You looked awkwardly between the two groups. “And these are my siblings. It looks like you’ve met Vanya and Allison. This is Luther, Diego, and Klaus.”

It was very awkward watching your friends meet your siblings. These were two groups that were never supposed to meet. Derek quickly explained that they were going to look around the house and then talk to each of you individually. It seemed like their presence made your siblings remember why you all were mad at each other in the first place. Once Derek was done talkings, you all started to go off in your own way.

“Y/L/N,” Derek called, stopping you. You sighed and grabbed a bottle of some kind of fancy alcohol from the bar before going over to your friends. You ignored the looks when you took a drink directly from the bottle. You knew what they were going to try.

“We couldn’t say anything while the rest of your siblings were here, but we obviously know that you didn’t do anything, so-”

“Morgan, stop,” you said. You were suddenly so tired. What you wanted more than anything was to just be alone. You couldn’t deal with whatever angle the BAU was trying to play. “Yes, I was with you guys working a case when he died, but I could have helped plan it. I could be helping to cover it up. I could very easily be an accessory. Not that there’s anything to be an accessory to, but whatever. I know that the team has a job to do, but I don’t want to know what it is and I don’t want you playing games with me. I’m not here as a member of the BAU, but don’t try to establish a connection with me like I’m some random victim. I just want to get through this memorial and then get back to my life. So whenever you want to talk to me about why I hated my father and what I think about my siblings, I’ll be in the courtyard.”

Without a second glance, you walked away, grabbing a second bottle on your way out. This was certainly not how you expected the day to go. You sank to the ground once you reached the gazebo, taking another couple sips from a bottle. It was hard enough dealing with all of your siblings, but now you had to deal with the fact that your team was investigating your family.

Music started playing. Coming from Luther’s room, no doubt. He had done something to his record player when you were children so it played so loudly that you could hear it throughout the house. It drove you crazy when you were young, but now it made a small smile tug at your lips as you shook your head.

It was such a familiar occurrence when you were younger. An argument would break out during training or lessons. You all would go off on your own to cool down. Someone would start playing music or watching TV or playing a game. Normally the noise would cause someone to get even more mad. More often than not it was you yelling at Luther to turn down the music. It was one of the few things you and Diego always agreed on. There was something nice about it now though. Something familiar.

Another drink and you were on your feet, swaying slightly to the music. Before you knew it, you were dancing around the gazebo. It didn’t matter that your siblings were somewhere and might think that you were crazy if they saw you. It didn’t matter that your coworkers could walk out at any minute and would definitely think that you were crazy.

CRACK

Thunder started booming around you as a strange blue light grew. A temporal anomaly, if you had to guess. Maybe a black hole. You backed up quickly as the doors behind you opened and your siblings came rushing out.

“What is it?”

“Don’t get too close!”

You huddled together. Then, Klaus came running out and chucked a fire extinguisher into it.

“Well what’s that going to do?” you asked, pulling him away from the light. Some part of your brain registered your friends come running out too.

“I don’t know,” Klaus responded. “Do you have a better idea?”

You all watched in disbelief as a figure seemed to start emerging from the blue thing. An old man, but you didn’t recognize him. Before your eyes, his face began looking younger and younger until-

“Five?” you whispered in disbelief as the small figure dropped to the ground. As suddenly as it started, the thunder and blue light stopped.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” Klaus asked as you all moved closer to what appeared to be your missing brother.

Your brother’s explanations made more sense to you than they did to the rest of your siblings. From a young age, your father had decided that you were the smart one, so you knew all about his theories about time travel. You had tried to figure out yourself what had happened to Five after he disappeared, but you had never quite been able to fully wrap your head around the nuances of time travel. 

What made slightly less sense was how nonchalant Five was. Sure, he was 58 now, but he was also your brother who hadn’t seen you in years. Yet, he acted like he couldn’t care less that he was back with his family now. It made you think that there was something Five wasn’t telling you all. Part of you was tempted to press Five about it, but it wouldn’t do any good. Even as a child, Five had been stubborn. All of that time in the future would only have made him more so.

“Well,” Luther said as Five left the kitchen, “that was interesting.” Interesting was certainly one way to describe it.

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

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us about your family?”

You regretted getting ready for the memorial so quickly. After changing into a different outfit because the one you had been wearing got dirty during the little fight earlier, you had gone to sit in the living room. That’s where Hotch had found you.

Apparently Derek had called him after they found out you were one of the Hargreeves siblings. Now you were sitting across from him in the living room. Spencer, Emily, and Derek were also perched around. You weren’t sure if they were all there because they felt like they needed to be close, or if they were just all curious.

“I didn’t think it mattered, Hotch.”

“You didn’t think it mattered?”

“If I had known that the team was going to investigate my father’s death, I would have told you before I left. It’s never affected a case before. I never thought it would.”

“You see anything wrong with using a false background to get into the FBI?” Hotch pushed.

“Everything from college onward is true. I use a fake last name and a fake childhood. I don’t think that really changes anything. I’ve still been a member of the BAU for years.”

“You realize that it looks bad that you didn’t tell us.”

“Hotch, I really thought that there would never be a need for anyone to know.”

“You didn’t think that we should know that you have powers?”

You sighed and rubbed your head tiredly before taking another few gulps from the bottle still clutched in your hand.

“Maybe you should take it easy on the booze,” Emily suggested cautiously.

“My father just died. I have to deal with my crazy siblings. And now I’m being questioned by my friends. I think I more than deserve this.” You didn’t drink much normally, even when the team went out together. Some part of your father’s “You must always be prepared for danger” teachings had stuck with you, despite your best efforts to forget them, so you knew it was alarming for your friends to see you drinking so much. It was only with your siblings that you allowed yourself to let go. That way if your father somehow appeared to lecture you, he would have to focus on all of your siblings rather than just you.

“I never told you guys about my power because it doesn’t affect how I do my work. Today was the first time I’ve used my powers in years. Besides when Klaus visits and I talk to Ben.”

“Ben?” Spencer asked. “Isn’t he dead?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You waved your hand to emphasize moving past it. Spencer’s brow stayed furrowed. “I’ve never used my power on a suspect. I know that you guys were talking about how reading someone’s mind would be helpful when interrogating a suspect, but I’ve never done that. I do my job just like the rest of you.”

You stared into Hotch’s eyes, forcing yourself not to break eye contact. You knew what he was wondering. What they were all wondering. It was another reason you never told them about your powers. It was bad enough growing up with your siblings always wondering. You didn’t want to have to deal with your coworkers not trusting you too.

“I’ve never read your mind either,” you said quietly. You glanced at Derek and Emily before your eyes landed on Spencer. “Any of you. I’d never do that. I wouldn’t invade your privacy like that.”

“We’ll need to speak more about this back at Quantico. I’m sure they’ll want to do an investigation about this. But let’s move on.”

“Your brother Diego said that your brother Luther thinks one of your siblings killed your father,” Derek said. You rolled your eyes. “You don’t agree?”

“No, I don’t. The coroner’s report says heart failure. It looks legit.”

“You’ve seen the coroner’s report?” Emily asked.

“Diego stole it from the coroner’s office,” you told her. “He does stuff like that sometimes. The point is, I looked over the scene. No forced entry. No sign of a struggle. Luther thinks that someone killed Dad because he doesn’t want to admit that Dad died because that would mean that he has to move on. If someone killed Dad, then there’s a new mission for The Umbrella Academy, so he can hold on for a little bit longer. The rest of us, except for Vanya kind of, have moved on. We have real lives. I bet none of us, except for Luther, even remember the last time we talked to our father.”

“It doesn’t sound like you think too highly of Luther,” Derek prodded.

You thought about it for a few seconds. There was no way that your friends could really understand what it was like for you all growing up like you had. “Luther is Number One. Dad never let him forget it, so Luther never let us forget it. Even now, when the rest of us have left the team and moved on, Luther still feels the need to act like Number One. I think it’s annoying. I always have. At first, maybe it was because I was jealous because I was ranked so low. Now, it’s because I just want him to grow up, get a life, and stop trying to control ours. We all deserve to be happy. I just wish Luther would realize that before it’s too late.”

“Is it normal for your siblings to speak for each other like you speak for them?”

“Dad valued us more as a unit than as individuals. When we were young we all spoke for each other because we really didn’t know that we were different people. As we got older and began to develop our own personalities, they all stopped. Growing up, I always spoke for my siblings because I knew how they felt. I spent as much time in their heads as I did in my own. I know how they think. I knew how they were feeling about everything. I haven’t read their minds in years, but I know what they thought. I can still guess what they’re thinking now.”

“Did your siblings ever resent your father for making you train on each other?” Hotch asked.

 You scoffed. The memories flashed in your head. The hand to hand combat. The agility courses. The survival training. The foreign languages. Everything. You were a master of martial arts by the time you were 6. You were fluent in 5 languages by the age of 4. You had a handful of PhDs by the time you were 13. 

“Of course. We were children being forced to fight against each other and with each other. We would have much rather been going to school and playing sports or doing anything normal kids do. He stole our childhoods, which is why we all left. He wouldn’t take our adulthoods too.”

“Y/N?” Allison stood in the doorway. “It’s time.”

“Except for today.” You stood slowly. You met your friends’ eyes one more time. “He’s taking today.”

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

Of course it was raining. You all filed out into the courtyard. Klaus had managed to find a clear umbrella somewhere. Very Klaus. Luther and Diego had both forgone umbrellas for some reason. You could sense your friends standing at a window, watching you all. You tried to reign your consciousness in, but it seemed like confining it to just your mind was too claustrophobic suddenly. It was like you had remembered what it had felt like to use your powers and now they wanted more room to stretch.

You would box it all back up in the back of your mind later. Reginald would have loved it though. Even from the grave he was influencing your life.

“Did something happen?” You felt a stab of worry at your mother’s question. It didn’t take a mindreader to know that Diego was lying when he said that she just needed to recharge. Leaving your mother here with just your father and Pogo had always made you feel guilty. As far as you knew, her whole purpose was to take care of you and your siblings. What would your father do if he no longer saw a use for her? And now that your father was gone, what would she do? She and Pogo were now without a purpose, as far as you knew. If she needed maintenance, who would fix her?

Those were questions for later though.

You watched as Luther poured your father’s ashes out. They landed in a pile on the ground. You nodded slightly as you stared at them. Even in death, your father was being difficult. No doubt he wanted your siblings to have to clean it up and do it again, but right this time.

“Probably would have been better with some wind,” Luther noted. You all stood around for a second, unsure of what to do next.

“Does anyone wish to speak?” You avoided eye contact with everyone else. You had nothing kind to say about your father, but you wouldn’t make a fuss now. Pogo sighed before he started to speak. It was strange listening to what Pogo said. Somehow, despite everything that Pogo had seen, he remained loyal to your father. You could feel Diego reaching the end of his string. “He leaves behind a complicated legacy-”

“He was a monster.” Diego said simply. Beside you, Klaus laughed. “He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego!” Allison interrupted.

“My name is Number Two.” That made Allison snap her mouth shut. She couldn’t argue that, to your father, you all were just numbers, ranked by how useful you were to him. “Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man that he was.”

“You should stop talking now.” Diego glared at Luther, who returned the look. Of course one fight wasn’t enough for them. There had to be another. You and Allison met eyes, silently agreeing to stay out of it.

“He had to ship you a million miles away.”

“Diego, stop talking.”

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you.” Luther batted away the finger that was pushing into his chest before swinging at Diego. Allison rolled her eyes. Vanya guided your mother away from the two. Klaus tried to shield you and Five, but you both pushed him off. Pogo sighed and walked off as the blows increased in power. The door behind you opened. Probably your teammates coming out to make sure no one got killed.

“Hit him! Hit him!” Klaus cheered. He grabbed your hand and squeezed. You laughed and joined in his calls. “Five bucks on Luther.”

You considered the offer. As quick and strong as Diego was, he was no match for the new monkey Luther. “Ten bucks Diego pulls a knife pretty soon.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Five muttered. You almost followed him inside, wondering what he was talking about, but you weren’t going to miss the end of this fight.

Diego managed to dodge out of Luther’s way, causing Luther to knock over the statue of Ben that your father had made after his death.

“And there goes Ben’s statue,” Allison sighed, turning to go back inside.

“Good thing Ben’s not here to see that,” Klaus muttered to you. You frowned slightly, a little upset that Ben wasn’t there.

“Diego, no,” Vanya yelled when Diego pulled a knife out. You cheered as Klaus groaned. The knife sliced the edge of Luther’s sleeve. Nothing serious. Even now, Diego wouldn't want to actually injure Luther. The yelling behind you reminded you that your teammates were still there.

“You never know when to quit, do you?” Vanya asked Diego as she followed Luther inside.

“Got enough material for your sequel yet?” was Diego’s response.

“He was my father too.”

Diego looked at you as you sat on the bench next to Klaus. “She doesn’t understand.”

“I know,” you replied. You watched as he gently took your mother’s arm and led her back inside. Hopefully she would sit, recharge, and be good as new tomorrow.

Klaus stood and walked over the pile of ashes still sitting on the ground. You couldn’t hear what he said, but you saw him stick his cigarette into the pile before walking away. He threw an arm around your shoulders as you both turned to go inside.

Your teammates were still standing by the door, shock on their faces. “I hope you understand why I didn’t want to talk about all of this,” you said as you passed them.

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

The kitchen had always been your favorite room in the house. It was one place where your father never bothered to go. Naturally, it’s where you and Klaus sat to decompress from this awful day. Five rummaged through the shelves, muttering to himself occasionally.

Without Diego and Luther, you were able to exist together without the threat of an explosion. Even when Allison came in, the four of you managed to keep a civil conversation going. Granted, it was about the lack of coffee in the house. You had to agree with Five. It was a crime that your father banned coffee from the house. You basically lived on it since joining the BAU.

You would have gone with Five to get some coffee, but he had teleported out of the kitchen before you could say anything.

“All right. Guess I’ll see you guys in, what, ten years? When Pogo dies?” Diego said as he walked through the kitchen, a bag over his shoulder.

“Not if you die first,” Allison retorted.

“Yeah, love you too, sis,” he replied. “Good luck on your next film. Hope it turns out better than your marriage, huh?” Allison’s jaw clenched as she watched Diego leave, Klaus trailing behind him.

“I’m going with Diego. Want to come?” Klaus asked as he ran through the kitchen again.

You shook your head before letting it collapse onto the table. Alone in the kitchen, you yelled in frustration. Your perfectly falsified past was now ruined. When you returned to work, you would probably have a trial of some sort to determine how much trouble you were in. Worst of all, your friends might not trust you anymore. They would be worried constantly that you’re reading their minds. They had gone back to the local PD after the fight in the courtyard, so you hadn’t had to deal with them yet. By now, you were sure Penelope had already pulled everything about The Illusion and was in the process of putting your past together.

The ringing of the doorbell pulled you out of your self pity. You weren’t sure where anyone else still in the house was, so you decided to answer the door yourself.

“Reid,” you said in surprise as you pulled open the door. Spencer stood in front of you, alone. That was maybe a good sign. If they were going to arrest anyone, they wouldn't send Reid by himself.

“Hotch wanted me to tell you that we’re going to the DC. Jet leaves in 30 minutes if you want to come back with us.”

“God, yes,” you groaned. “I just need to grab my stuff. You can come in, if you want. Diego’s gone and I don’t know where Luther is, so there shouldn’t be any more fights.” Spencer stepped in slowly. His eyes were wide as they took everything in. It was probably different getting to see the house now that he wasn’t working. “You can stay here or come up with me.”

Spencer hesitated, obviously torn about what to do. 

“There’s some really cool artwork upstairs. I bet you can’t name it all,” you offered, smiling slightly. To your great relief, Spencer smiled back and followed you up the stairs. “I put my stuff in my old room. I wasn’t sure how long I would be here for, but it seems like we’re all leaving.”

Spencer slowed as you reached the paintings. It took you a second to realize why. You mom was sitting in her chair, wires coming out of her to connect her to the chair. “What-” he started to ask.

“She’s recharging,” you told him gently. Taking his hand, you led him past. “Bye, Mom,” you said softly. She didn’t respond.

“Your mom’s a robot,” Spencer said as you turned down the hallway toward your bedroom.

“Reginald made her to take care of us. Technically, I don’t know who my real mom is.” You opened the door to your bedroom. You watched Spencer take everything.

“I didn’t realize other kids were so interested in time travel growing up,” Spencer commented as he quickly read everything. An entire wall in your room was covered in everything you and your father had come with regarding time travel.

“I wanted to find out what happened to Five,” you told him. “It seems like I was surprisingly close, if I understand his explanation correctly.”

“Why,” Spencer hesitated, looking at you for confirmation to continue. You nodded. “Why doesn’t he have a name?”

“He disappeared before Mom named us.” Spencer’s shocked look almost made you laugh. Instead, you smiled sadly at your childhood room. “We were just numbers for a long time growing up. So really, Y/N is a fake name too. Just like Y/L/N.”

“Don’t say that,” Spencer said. He took your hands in his own, making you face him. “You are Y/N Y/L/N. Your childhood is just a little different than we thought. Based on what I saw today, I don’t really blame you.”

You laughed joylessly. “I hope everyone else is as understanding. I think I might have really screwed this all up.” Looking into Spencer’s eyes, you knew you weren’t just talking about your job.

“They’ll all come around. It might just take some time to get used to the fact that you’re a superhero.”

“I was a superhero. And not by choice,” you reminded him. You squeezed Spencer’s hands tightly. “I meant what I said earlier. I never read your mind. I’m not sure I’d be able to keep up with your thoughts anyway.”

Spencer smiled slightly. “I think everyone knows that you wouldn’t do that. We just have to get used to it. They all know that.”

“It’s really important to me that you know that.” You looked into Spencer’s eyes, trying to tell him what you couldn’t say the words for. You could basically see his brain moving at a million miles a minute.

“Y/N?” Allison was at the door. Spencer dropped your hands quickly and picked up your bag. Your sister looked between the two of you for a second. “Did Klaus leave? I was going to suggest getting some dinner.”

“Klaus left with Diego. He might be back soon. I doubt Diego lets him stick around for long. My team is headed back to DC, so I’m heading to the airport to meet them.”

Allison’s face fell slightly. You crossed the room to pull her into a hug. “You seriously have to come to DC sometime. I have a guest room. Whenever it’s not being used by Klaus or Diego, you can use it. If you see Five, tell him that he’s free to crash there too. I don’t know what his plans are, but I don’t think anyone will let him rent or buy any property. He is thirteen again.”

“I guess it’s just me and Luther,” Allison sighed. Your face automatically twisted into a grimace, causing Allison to blush and Spencer to look confused.

“Don’t get into any mischief,” you told her. “I’ll see you soon, hopefully.”

You led Spencer back through the house, reading to leave and go back to your normal life.

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

For the third time that morning, you contemplated taking Hotch up on the offer to take a couple more days off. They had already scheduled your trial for next week. Until then, you were stuck on desk duty. Hotch had suggested you take a few days off, but you had insisted on coming back immediately.

Yesterday already seemed like a bad dream. There was no way that half of your team had seen your childhood home the day before. No way that less than 12 hours ago you and Spencer had been standing in your childhood bedroom.

But then you would catch someone’s eyes on you and you were forced to accept that your secret was out. It seemed to have spread like wildfire through the whole FBI. There were people you never saw on this floor walking by multiple times, eyes on you the entire time. You’d think FBI agents could be more subtle.

The worst was how weird your teammates acted around you. Emily managed to act the most normal, probably because she could kind of relate thanks to her background with Interpol. But Derek could barely look at you, JJ kept starting to say something before stopping herself, and even Rossi seemed unsure about whether or not to give you any more pearls of Italian wisdom. Spencer’s eyes had been on you almost all morning. It was almost a relief when the rest of the team went into the briefing room, no doubt to go over your father’s death again. You had been told that there would be severe consequences if you even looked in the direction of anything pertaining to that case.

You heard a familiar sound, one that you had thought you would never hear again until yesterday. “This is a lot more boring than I thought the FBI would be.”

You turned to see Five leaning against a desk. “You need to get some new clothes,” you told him, eyeing the Umbrella Academy uniform he was still wearing. He rolled his eyes. “Did you talk to Allison?”

“Allison? No. I waited around your room at the house for a few hours, then Pogo told me that you left. I got some weird looks on the highway, but I made pretty good time.”

“Still haven’t managed long distance teleportation?”

“I just made it back here. The last thing I want is to end up on another continent or in a different year.”

“That’s fair. Well, I told Allison to tell you that my guest room is free if you need a place to stay while you figure everything out.”

“Actually, I need you to come back to the house with me.” 

You looked at Five incredulously, waiting for him to tell you he was joking. His face was serious though. “You’re joking.” He shook his head. “Why would I do that?”

Five sighed. He moved closer to you and lowered his voice so no one would be able to overhear. “There’s something big going on. I’ve decided that you’re the only one I can trust.”

“Why me?”

“Beause you’ll listen. You’ll believe me.” There was a look in Five’s eyes that frightened you a little. You saw it sometimes in very determined unsub’s. You saw it sometimes in the mirror. 

“Okay. But I get to bandage your arm while you do. I don’t want you dripping any more blood onto my desk.” Five nodded, so you pulled out a small first aid kit you kept in a drawer and began to clean the wound.

“When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future,” Five started, “do you know what I found?” You shook your head, your eyes flicking up to meet his while you worked. “Nothing.” You looked up sharply, your brows pulling together in confusion. “Aboslutely nothing. As far as I could tell, I was the last person alive. I never figured out what killed the human race, but I did find something else. The date it happens. The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it.”

You breathed out sharply, your head spinning with the implication of what Five just told you. Your head moved to the briefing room as the door opened and Hotch stepped out. “Y/N? Everything all right?” He eyed Five’s arm, which still had some old blood on it. Your brother pulled his sleeve down quickly.

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. “I think I will take those extra days off, though. I’m going to go back with my brother.” Hotch nodded and went back into the briefing room. Everyone turned to look at you, so you waved slightly.

“There’s some coffee in the break room. It’s not the best, but it’s better than nothing and I think we’re going to need a lot of coffee,” you told Five.

“You’re coming with me?” You nodded. “And you didn’t tell them about what I saw.”

“Do you want me to?”

“They would just think I’m crazy.”

“Probably.”

“But you don’t?” You considered it for a second. It would be much easier to just brush off Five’s warning as the ramblings of a crazy person, but you knew your brother. You shook your head. “Did you look already?”

“I don’t need to see your memories to know you’re telling the truth,” you told him. “Let’s go.” You packed up your stuff and began to head out when you turned back around for another look at your friends. If this was the end of the world, then…

You forced yourself to stop thinking like that as you caught Spencer’s eyes through the glass. You gave him a small smile, but you couldn’t stop the tears that welled up as you took your last look at him.

“Y/N, wait.” You paused by the elevators as Spencer came rushing out. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’ll go start the car,” Five said, slipping into the elevator and leaving you with Spencer.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you said thickly, tears still threatening to spill out. “I’m just really going to miss you guys. Especially you, Spencer.”

“Miss us? You’re not leaving forever. It’s just a few days, right? This isn’t goodbye.” Spencer’s face was concerned as he studied you. He glanced back at the rest of the team, probably wondering if he should warn them that you were acting strange.

“It’s just a few days,” you agreed. Eight days to be exact. “It’s just, between my family stuff and the trial, I’m just not sure what’s going to happen.”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Spencer insisted. He grabbed your arm gently, like he was trying to hold you there.

“But just in case it’s not, there’s something you need to know.” You took a deep breath before taking Spencer’s face in your hands. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I love going to all of your niche activities. I love listening to you talk about subjects that interest you. I love how kind you are. I love you.”

A tear slipped out of your eyes as Spencer looked at you in shock.

“I have to go now,” you said hoarsely. “I just needed you to know that.”

You pressed the button for the elevator, but before the doors could open, Spencer took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed Spencer until you heard the elevator ding behind you. You pulled away sadly, aware that there was a good chance that would be your first and last kiss with Spencer. The smile on Spencer’s face broke your heart. He couldn’t know that it was a goodbye kiss.

“I love you too,” he breathed as you stepped into the elevator. You let the tears fall freely as the doors closed between you two.

At least, no matter what happened with the apocalypse, you knew that Spencer Reid loved you back.

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill - 10

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1882

Rating:  E

Warnings: nothing much

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 10

It wasn’t until the following day that Steve and the other’s finally returned from their mission.  Bucky couldn’t remember ever feeling so excited before.

He was apprehensive and scared, but those emotions were the ones that he often felt the most to the point that they’d become dulled.  Like a drug addict who needed more and more heroin to feel high, it took a big bad before he truly felt fear.  Excitement though?  Excitement was rare and it gave him a high that kept him running until he got word that the Quin was coming into land.

He had no idea what Steve would do.  There were options that could be good or bad and Steve would be well in his right to pick any of them in the pursuit of his own happiness.  But that unknown was almost adding to the excitement.  As was the potential that this could actually lead to something good for him.  That he might actually get to have some love and intimacy, even if he didn’t quite think he deserved it yet.  Just the thought of Steve’s lips on his, or your hands raking through his hair made him shiver and his cock twitch.  He thought if it actually happened he might just explode.

He went up to the landing pad in time to catch Steve and the other’s disembarking.  He approached Steve with Hill, and he immediately went into debriefing mode.  “We found a supply of the drug there,” Steve said, handing a little baggy over to Hill without breaking his pace.  “Have it analyzed.  The guy who sold it to Clint said it can give you powers but how they express varies.  He also said you needed to take them in order.  Red pill to get the powers, blue to turn them off.  Apparently, if you don’t take the blue you can go into cardiac arrest and your lungs stop working.”

“And people are taking these as what?  Recreation?  Fight club?” Hill asked as the group got on the elevator.

“From what I gleaned off people it’s a mixture.  Having powers gives people a high.  I can attest to that from when I was given mine when they first kick in it’s like all your synapsis start firing at once,” Wanda said.  “But there are underground groups where people take them and then fight each other.  There’s even an enhanced prostitution racket happening.”

The elevator stopped and opened up onto the armory.  Steve, Clint, Sam, and Natasha all started putting their weapons and armor back into its place.  Steve began to strip off parts of his suit and handing them back in his locker.  “Thank you, Wanda,” he said to the young woman who was standing back trying not to watch as everyone stripped off in front of her.  “Go get some rest and food.  We’ll debrief this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she said and headed back to the elevator.

“Do we know the source?”  Hill asked as Sam, Natasha, and Clint headed into the showers.

“Take a look at the pills,” Steve said.

Hill picked up the baggy and turned the pills around in the bag.  Bucky looked over her shoulder and saw the small image of the skull with tentacles coming out of it.  “So it is HYDRA?” He said.

“Well, we can’t say for sure,” Steve said, gesturing back to the elevator.  “Wanda didn’t pick anything up from the sellers indicating they were HYDRA.  So it could just be someone thinking that packaging it like that will make it more exciting to buyers,” he explained as he, Bucky, and Hill got onto the elevator.  “But it’s a potential lead.  The problem is from what Wanda and Clint came back with was either a mass group conspiracy that the government of Madripoor is supplying the drugs to the citizens or more concerning, that is what’s actually happening.”

“So we need to send in some undercover operatives?”  Hill asked.

“Absolutely,” Steve said.  “Honestly it was my mistake to not have started with that.  So if you could select some agents to do a deep cover operation, and get that to the lab, Hill. I just need to shower and get something to eat and I’ll meet in my office in an hour.”

“You’ve got it, Cap,” Hill said as the elevator stopped.

Bucky followed Steve out and down to the hall.  “I know you want an answer, Buck,” Steve said.  “I want to talk to both of you.”

Bucky rarely had any trouble hiding his emotions, but right now he was buzzing.  “We wanted to talk to you too.”

Steve glanced at Bucky through the side of his eye and unlocked his door.  You were inside at the table eating a sandwich while Geo seemed to be wearing most of a can of Spaghettios.  You looked over when they stepped inside and Geo bounced in his seat.  “Steeb!”  He cheered and scrambled off running over and holding his hands up.  You got up and seemed to move forward and then backed up, eventually settling on going into the kitchen.

“Hey, Geo,” Steve said, hesitating a little before picking the little boy up.  “You’re very messy.”

“Sorry,” you said.  “He likes to try and put the bits of spaghetti on his fingers.  Can I get you anything?  You must be hungry.”

“It’s alright,” Steve said.  “Sit.  I can get myself something.”

You hesitated again before going and taking your seat.  “How did it go?  Did you find anything?”

“Yes and no,” Steve said, putting Geo back in his chair and kissing leaning down to kiss your cheek.  “We’ve got a trail.  We’re going to need to put some undercover operatives on it.”

You nodded and your eyes flicked to Bucky.  Bucky gave a nod and as Steve went into the kitchen you let out a breath.  “Steve,” you said, a slight tremble to your voice.  “I know you ran off yesterday because you didn’t want to confront either of us.  That you had a choice to make and it was hurting you to make it.”

“About that,” Steve said as he pulled out some ingredients for a sandwich. “I know that was a really horrible thing to do.  I’m sorry.  I just needed time to think and I should have spoken to you both first.”  He looked over at Bucky. “You want a sandwich?”

“Thanks,” Bucky said.  His heart was hammering and he was glad you were taking the lead, because he had no idea how to bring up. It was hard enough admitting he was in love with Steve in the first place.

“We were talking…” you said.  “When you were away…”

“Yeah?”  Steve asked.  “I know you both must be angry with me, and you’re in your right.  But if you can just hear me out…”

“Steve,” Bucky said.  “Can you let us go first?”

Steve seemed to blanch, and Bucky could just picture the kinds of things that must be going through his head.  Top of them was probably that you’d both decided you didn’t want him anymore.  Bucky wanted to let Steve speak, just so he wouldn’t panic but if he did and he made a choice it would be too late.  That would be it.  He would have made his call about which person he liked more and the other would always feel like they were playing catch up.

“Right,” Steve said, standing frozen in place. “Sure.”

“How would you feel about… dating both of us?”  You said, your face scrunching up as you spoke.  “You know... polyamory?”

Steve started at the two of you with his jaw dropped.  Geo started opening and closing his hands as he held them over his head and you got up without thinking and started to use some wipes to clean him up.  Bucky felt as frozen as Steve was.  He should have known better.  Steve was a traditional guy.  This was never going to work for him.  Why Bucky even thought for one second he might…

Slowly Steve started laughing.  It was quiet at first and it just got louder and louder.  Bucky blinked at him in shock.  “What’s so funny?”  Bucky said.

“That was what I was going to say,” Steve said.

“You what?”  Bucky asked.

Steve wiped a tear from his eye and went back to making sandwiches.  “I swear to god, Buck,” Steve said.  “Natasha bailed me up on the mission and made me tell her what was bothering me and she said that there was no reason why I had to be monogamous if there were two people who loved me if those two people loved each other.  And you do right?  I’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky agreed.  “We do.”

“So,” you said, standing up with Geo on your hip.  “We’re going to actually do this?”

Steve nodded.  “I guess we have … boundaries we need to discuss but … yeah.  If you both want that, and I want it… what’s stopping us.”

You took Geo over to the couch and turned the TV on for him, putting on some cartoons before returning to the kitchen.  Steve pulled you close to him and hugged you tightly.  “I don’t think there’s anything stopping us,” you said, hugging him back.  “I have spent so long now living in fear and not letting myself be happy.  I’m gonna take it.”

Steve sighed and closed his eyes, breathing you in as he held you.  Bucky stood watching, knowing that he was now part of this, and if he could just will his legs to move, he could be part of it too.  Steve would draw him in close and the three of you would be hugging.  Instead, he just watched like an outsider.

You slowly pulled back and looked up into Steve’s eyes.  He smiled down at you and caressed your cheek with his thumb.  “Okay.  I really need to eat and shower and we can talk a little now, but I have to get back and sign some paperwork, plus we still have to do the debrief.  But how about we ask Tony and Pepper if they’d like to babysit and I take the two of you out tonight.  You know he loves having Geo around.”

“I think that sounds really good,” you agreed.  “But first, I think there might be a kiss that’s been 70 years in the making.”

Steve looked over to Bucky and held out his hand as you stepped back from him.  “What do you say, Buck?  Think it’s time we actually act for a change.”

Bucky approached Steve slowly, his heart hammering in his chest.  When he was close enough, Steve took his right hand and pulled him close.  Bucky leaned in a little.  He hadn’t kissed anyone since before he fell from that train.  The fact his first kiss was going to be Steve - his Steve - was terrifying and exciting all at once.  It was going to change everything between them.  Steve bridged the difference, and Bucky didn’t close his eyes until the last second, afraid that Steve would change his mind and he’d just be left hanging like an idiot.

Bucky closed his eyes and the soft press of Steve’s lips touched on his, Bucky hummed and relaxed into the change.

// NEXT

[retrievablememories]

a strange love | yuta (m)

title: a strange love pairing: alien!yuta x black!reader genre: sci-fi/fantasy, fluff, angst, smut request: “I read a good chunk of your NCT work and really liked them. Would I be able to request a fic where a black female reader meets an alien (can be Yuta or Jungwoo) and they're both coming to terms that they're attracted to each other and have to come to terms with being attracted to someone of a different species? Can be smutty and don't be afraid to give the alien a less human biology if you don't mind.” word count: 13.1k warnings: alcohol use, cursing, near drowning experience, lots of mentions of water so this one might not mesh well with people w/ aquaphobia, non-human biology/body horror, extraterrestrial sex, lots of cum, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle dick, unprotected sex, creampie, please heed the warnings because this is an alien smutfic lmao a/n: giving the shape of water teas. i’ve actually never seen that movie 😕 but i will at some point. forgive me in advance for the nerdy references in here.

It’s funny how things happen when you least expect it. You never would’ve thought you’d be sound asleep when your entire world changed.

The night the UFO crashes in your city, you’re awoken by the tremors of its landing. The vibrations feel akin to an earthquake, and they make picture frames and other trinkets fall off your shelves and hit the floor in a clatter of noise. You jump up from your pillow at the racket, your heart pounding. You glance at the things lying on your floor and quickly register that the room—your entire home—is trembling.

There’s not much you can do at this point but ride it out, so you huddle down in your covers and hope the roof doesn’t cave in on your head. To your knowledge, your particular area isn’t known for earthquakes, which makes all of this even stranger. What could be causing one now? Is the world finally ending?

Eventually, the tremors stop. By now, your shelves have been emptied of nearly all their contents, but you’re still alive, which you’re grateful for. You wait a few more minutes to see if the shakes will begin again, but they don’t, so you climb out from the warmth of your covers to clean up your floor.

Police and ambulance sirens start blaring through the city not long after you get out of bed. That’s nothing unusual; there are usually injuries and casualties with natural disasters like these, and you expect many poor souls will be needing rescue tonight. You sigh and look at your closed blinds, watching them be sporadically illuminated by the lights of the emergency vehicles rushing past.

Once you’ve cleaned up your room and gotten back in bed, you think about checking social media for what people have been saying about the quake. There’s no doubt that the city’s residents have taken to Twitter and Instagram to document it. However, your eyelids are already starting to droop, and you’d probably fall asleep in the middle of scrolling, so you decide to tuck in and wait until morning.

Waking up the next day almost seems like a normal Sunday until you look at your blinds again and are suddenly reminded of last night’s flashing lights. Right. The earthquake. Throwing the covers back, you stumble out of bed to turn on your TV. You flip through the channels until you find a news station for your local area. You go to open the blinds, keeping your ears open for reports on the earthquake.

“Last night, we experienced unprecedented seismic activity throughout the majority of the city, caused by what appears to be an unidentified flying object, otherwise known as a UFO—”

Huh?

You turn to the TV, thinking this must be some kind of ridiculous hoax. You get ready to reach for the remote, thinking you must have turned it to one of those parody news channels by accident, but you freeze at what you see. Video footage of the city center—or what used to be the city center—plays on the screen. In place of the large historical monument that used to stand there, there’s a huge...silver and black spaceship. Or at least you think it’s a ship. It apparently sustained major damage in the landing, and now it looks more like a hunk of melted metal. The area around it has been blasted clear in every direction. Instead of green grass and pavement, there’s nothing but dirt.

The area is blocked off with yellow tape, though hundreds of people have gathered at the location to check out the object and take pictures and videos of it.

“What the fuck…” you whisper to yourself.

“We’re currently unsure where this UFO originated from, though we can confirm that it is not affiliated with any aircraft fleets owned by the U.S. military. Researchers and scientists from top universities across the country are being called in to assist in identifying this craft…”

“There’s no just way,” you mutter, grabbing your shower cap and pulling clothes out of your closet for your morning shower. “A UFO...guess that alien invasion is coming sooner than we thought.” You would like to believe it’s all just someone playing a terrible prank, but pulling off this level of theatrics is impossible.

After you get out of the shower and start making breakfast for yourself, you get a text from one of your coworkers, Alex.

10:30 A.M. Alex🍸 You seeing this shit on the news right now?

10:31 A.M. Obviously! It’s fucking wild. Do you really think it’s true? OR some elaborate government hoax? Anything’s possible. I’m betting “true,” but...

10:33 A.M. Alex🍸 I honestly don’t know. that’s why me and some of the others from work are about to head over there now. Wanna come?

10:34 A.M. The hell! I’ll pass. There could be all types of radiation n shit, I’m not tryna turn into the Green Lantern or the Hulk or somebody.

10:35 A.M. Alex🍸 lmFAO. Suit ypurself. If I gain superpowers don’t be surprised if I fly over to your house today.

10:35 A.M. You’re a mess. 💀

You spend breakfast watching more news reports and scrolling through Twitter feeds for firsthand information. People who visited the site, including your coworkers, have uploaded pictures of the UFO from various angles, inciting a frenzy of conspiracy theories and warnings that the world is about to end.

You don’t know what to make of the situation, but it stays on your mind throughout the day as you leave the house and go about completing your usual errands. The city center has been blocked off to all vehicles other than those belonging to people who’ve been called in to help, which means that traffic is sky-high everywhere else—even for a Sunday.

Sitting in a mishmash of cars, you roll down your window and sigh, looking out at the red traffic lights, and beyond that to the horizon. Things are about to get very weird for the next few weeks. Maybe months. You can only hope you’re prepared for it.

You don’t know why, but the air seems strange tonight.

It’s been 2 days since the UFO crashed. There haven’t been many more answers apart from what everyone already knows due to the ship’s destroyed state. The city has professionals out for that sort of thing, but they’re taking their sweet time analyzing the ship—though you can’t really blame them. Jumping straight into unknown alien tech seems like a death wish.

Your life has been pretty much the same as usual, though you know a few people at work who have been more directly affected by the events. One girl, Sooyoung, who lives in the neighborhood near the crash site claims the officials are thinking about having that entire area evacuate, though you don’t know why they’re beating around the bush about it if it’s true. Whatever radiation or chemicals they’re worried about has probably already leached into all the surrounding homes, and now you’re just waiting for someone to walk into your workplace with antlers or purple skin.

Admittedly, you’re morbidly curious about the case and what all of this could mean for Earth’s future, but you keep your fascination lowkey. You don’t need any of your coworkers thinking you’re the next alien-obsessed Mulder from X-Files. But then again, you’re not curious enough to visit the actual scene, so maybe you’re not the crazy one here.

You feel fine when you get home from work that day, but as you get washed up and settle into your usual evening routine, you can’t shake the eeriness gripping your subconscious. It’s not necessarily a bad feeling, either, just...foreign. Like an emotion you’ve never felt before, though you didn’t know there were even still new emotions to discover. Shaking your head, you figure maybe you should lay off the alien stuff for the rest of the week.

Before you head to bed that night, you go around the house making sure all the doors and windows are locked as you normally do. You pause at the backdoor for a reason you can’t explain, and the strange feeling grows stronger. At this point, you’re a bit frightened about what this is all about, but you can’t go to sleep without knowing. Curiosity takes over as you open the blinds and stare into the darkness of your backyard.

You don’t see anything right away. There are trees, bushes, your potted plants, and lawn chairs...everything looks normal. It’s only when you lean closer to the glass to squint that you see a figure lying in the grass. You jump once you catch sight of it, terrified that some monster or murderer has found their way onto your property. There was nothing there earlier when you closed the blinds, so whoever or whatever it is must’ve recently showed up.

You’re about ready to dial 911 when you realize the figure is curled in the fetal position and unmoving...almost like they’re unconscious. Or dead.

This is ridiculous. You feel like one of those people who always dies first in the horror movies because they went into the room the killer was obviously hiding in, but you’re overcome with the strong impulse to step outside. You grip the doorknob tightly, debating whether you should unlock it or not.

“...Fuck. Don’t let me regret this.”

You open the door with your phone in hand, the device serving as your flashlight. There’s still the screen door to get through, which you pause at for a moment. The figure remains unmoving even with the sound of the door opening.

“Hello?!” You call out to the individual, but there’s no response. Your phone’s light can’t reach them from there, which forces you to open the screen door and step out onto the porch. They’re still feet away, but from this closer distance, it seems like they’re wearing a sort of armor or full-body suit...maybe like a cosplay?

“Hope this isn’t some weirdo weeb passed out on my lawn…” you mutter, cautiously stepping onto the grass. As you approach, you can see now that the figure is likely male, though their back is to you so you can’t be totally sure. “Um, hello there? Can you hear me?” No response.

By now, you are only a few feet away from them. The person looks to be an Asian guy, with long blonde hair haloing his face. His features are angular and smooth, and he is indeed wearing some kind of body armor, its color unlike anything you’ve seen. Instead of being all one hue or even a few, it reflects the light from your phone and glows with a rainbow-like phosphorescence. The material itself looks translucent, but you can’t see through it; it creates a mind-bending optical illusion.

Your stomach suddenly drops to your feet. Is this who was in that UFO in the city center? It seems too out-there to be true, but your intuition is telling you otherwise. This can’t be fucking real.

You kneel on the wet grass next to the man and try to look for signs of life. You can hear his breathing, so he’s thankfully not dead. But he doesn’t look to be in good shape, either. He definitely won’t be able to get up on his own; he probably used the last of his energy to drag himself into your yard.

“Damn.” You turn the flashlight off and slip your phone into your sweatpants pocket. It seems like there’s no other options right now. You could call the police, but they’d probably accuse you of being in cahoots with this weird dude and drag you off to jail. Or they could cart him off for government experimentation, which sounds equally terrible. So with those things in mind, you gently maneuver his upper body until you’re able to hook your arms under his armpits and drag him towards your house.

You just really hope none of your nosy neighbors are seeing this right now.

He’s surprisingly light, and you get him inside the house fairly quickly. Once you’ve locked the door again, you pull him over to the living room so he’s propped against your couch. He still isn’t fully conscious, but his head and lips move as if he’s dreaming about something.

“What was that…?” You lean closer, trying to read his lips for some sort of clue. Surprisingly, you can make out the word water, which he mouths over and over again. “Water…” You run into the kitchen to pour a glass and bring it back to him, making sure not to spill any on the way over.

You press it to his lips, unsure if he’ll be able to drink, but to your amazement his muscles respond and he drinks quickly as you tip the glass. Soon, the water is all gone. You set the glass to the side with your palms sweating and watch as his face flutters even more. 

“Can you...hear me?”

His eyes open only slightly. This movement seems to cause him some pain, though you aren’t sure why. Maybe he has a headache since he was dehydrated? You scramble to turn the overhead light off, not wanting to make matters worse. He still doesn’t try to open his eyes any wider, though.

“Who are you? Were you...did you crash here?” You feel a little bad about asking so many questions, but you’re dying for answers as to what the hell is going on.

The man licks his lips, and his mouth parts like he’s going to answer. But his throat is still dry, and it hurts to talk.

“...Shit.” You get him another glass of water and let him drink until it’s gone again. He seems a little better after that.

“Th-this...” He clears his throat a couple times and tries again. “This is E-Earth, right?”

Now you’re the one lost for words. Although you already figured he couldn’t be from here, hearing it out loud makes your blood rush and your heart race. “Um, yes...this is Earth. Was...the UFO yours?”

He sighs, and his head falls back against the couch arm. “Yes.”

“It’s destroyed,” you say, and then feel silly about it. “But you already know that.” 

He doesn’t answer that. He just slowly glances around your living room instead, looking as if he’s never seen a stranger setup. The quietness is awkward, and you almost feel like he must be judging your taste for interior design. “Do you have a name?”

More silence. You decide he probably won’t answer until he finally says, “You can call me Yuta.”

“Yuta.” You tell him your name too, and he just nods, almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t say much without prompting, which makes it hard for you to know how to approach the situation. You don’t want to overwhelm him with questions, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to speak unless you do. “How did you end up here? I mean, in my—uh, my yard?”

Yuta shakes his head and then winces. “I crashed, and then...I just ran. The ship was melting. I just ran. I hid...I went from place to place, hiding. Don’t know how I got here.”

You wonder how he made it all the way from the city center to your home without being spotted, especially with that armor. You can only conclude that he must be stealth at hiding. Or maybe someone did spot him and the feds are about to bust down your door any minute. You take a shaky breath and try to push that anxious thought to the back of your mind.

Suddenly Yuta fixes you with a suspicious glare. “Will you reveal that I’m here?”

You try not to get offended, because you’d honestly be thinking the same if you were a newly-landed alien in a foreign land. “No. I don’t have any reason to do that. I just want to help. I’m not looking to be on anyone’s 6 o’clock news or cheap tabloid. You probably don’t believe me, but you can have my word for it...if that means anything to you.”

He’s quiet again, though you can tell he’s still skeptical.

“Um, do you need anything? More water?”

He sits up straighter at the mention of that. “Water.” You reach for the glass again, but he frowns. “Not that. I need…something more than that.” He looks around again, but when he doesn't see what he’s searching for, he attempts to stand only to slump down again.

“Slow down there, I don’t think you’re gonna make it like that. Can I help?”

You end up slinging his arm across your shoulder and letting him lean his body against you while you lead him to the bathroom. That’s the biggest source of water in the house, and you assume he must be wanting a bath or shower or something. Even aliens have their hygiene needs, you guess.

You turn the bathroom light on and have Yuta sit on the toilet lid as you turn the bathtub faucet. “Is...this what you meant?” He nods, and you put the plug in and let the tub fill up.

“Just water. Nothing else. I need to recharge,” he says, and before you can ask what he means by that, he starts undressing in front of you. 

At first, your reaction is delayed; you’re struck with surprise when you realize the armor isn’t actually a whole bodysuit, but more like...connected panels of material that can be taken off. You don’t understand the material at all, it doesn’t resemble anything on Earth you can think of—but of course, it’s alien tech. It conforms to his body as he’s wearing it but takes on a more rigid form once it’s peeled off, like actual armor.

Then, he gets ready to take the bottoms off and something finally clicks in your brain that oh my God he’s about to get naked in front of me.

“Whoa!” You spin around and cover your eyes for good measure, glad that your brown skin hides the way your face is burning right now. You step towards the open door. “Uh, I’ll just leave, sorry—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, what?”

“Doesn’t really matter to me,” Yuta says, pulling the last of his suit off. He steps into the tub and sits down in it, putting his hands underneath the stream of water rushing out of the faucet. The skin on his hands seems to ripple, like it’s readjusting itself, and the hairs stand up on the back of your neck at that. You forget to be embarrassed at his unclothed state as you watch it happen.

“What’s going on with that? And why did you need the water?”

Yuta splashes his face before answering, and he turns to look at you, the droplets of water sliding off the ends of his hair. “I’m part of a Water Race. Water is my home. Our bodies have adapted to be built for living in water, and it’s dangerous to be without it for too long.”

“Adaptation? But you look like a regular human.”

“It’s just a skin.”

“A skin?” You echo in horror, a sudden flashback to Silence of the Lambs popping into your mind. “Someone else’s skin?” 

Yuta gives you a look that seems to say he can’t believe you’re asking such a stupid question. “No, it’s my skin. It’s just not my natural form.” To prove his point, he holds his hand out, and right before your eyes his human skin pulls back and morphs into something much more scaly and green. His fingers are actually more like talons, with long black nails on the ends, and there’s translucent webbing between each one.

You gasp and step back, trying to catch your breath at the sight of something so very not human. The skin reforms around his hand—you assume he has to be willing it with his mind somehow, because he doesn’t even move—and his digits look just as human as ever.

“How the hell do you hide your nails under there? Isn’t it just like...wearing a bodysuit?”

Yuta shakes his head. “No. Once the skin is on, it becomes...part of me. My hand becomes a human hand. I’m not hiding anything, it just is. It’s hard to explain.”

“Have you been to Earth before? Is that why you have a human skin, because...adaptation or some shit? This is all so wild.”

“I can shift into different skins if I want, if I gather enough genetic information on certain species’ inhabitants...but there are limitations.” That doesn’t exactly answer your question, but you figure maybe it’s best if you didn’t know. You can at least assume he’s been in contact with humans before.

“I see…” You fidget for a few seconds before speaking what’s on your mind. “Okay, one last thing...you said there are limitations. Does that mean you can’t transform into, like...a dung beetle or something?”

Yuta gives you another are you serious look and you put your hands up. “Just wondering. It was worth a try.”

You feel awkward just standing there, and you feel like maybe you should give him some privacy even if he doesn’t care much, so you leave the bathroom to find something for him to wear.

You’re not sure if you’ll find anything that fits him, so you end up settling on a light pink bathrobe and decide he’ll have to work with that for now. You slip back into the bathroom to leave it on the sink, averting your eyes from his nude form in your bathtub. “Um, here’s something to wear...not sure if anything else will fit, this is all I have for now. Sorry.” You don’t wait for him to respond— he probably won’t anyway—before slipping back out.

It’s nearing 1 A.M. at this point, which is late considering you still have work tomorrow. You sigh and curl yourself up on the couch, hoping you won’t have to stay up for very much longer.

You’re not sure when you drifted off or how long you were out, but you wake up to the sound of footsteps and see Yuta coming out of the bathroom wearing the robe you’ve given him. You have to laugh a little at the sight of him in the light pink material, though you think it suits him in a way.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need some clothes.”

Yuta raises his eyebrow. “I still have my suit.”

“Yeah, but...don’t you want something else to wear? Your ship is pretty much gone, so you’ll probably be on Earth for a while...and if you don’t want anyone realizing you’re not from here, you’ll have to wear regular clothes.”

Yuta visibly upsets at the idea of his ship’s destroyed state, even though he knows there’s not much he can do about it. “I guess. I shared which planet I was heading to before I left, but...Earth is a very big place. And my trackers were destroyed with my ship, so…”

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know how much comfort that can be. “We can look for some clothes tomorrow. It’s probably better for you not to leave the house right now, but...that’s what online shopping is for.”

“Online shopping…?” Yuta seems puzzled by the concept, but he doesn’t ask any further. Then he looks around the room again. “Is there somewhere I can rest?”

“Oh, yeah, follow me.” You get up from the couch to head upstairs where the guest bedroom is. The house isn’t huge—it was your grandmother’s before she passed it on to you—but it’s more than enough for you alone, and it should fit one more just fine. You open the door and turn on the light, illuminating the small room. “It hasn’t been used in a while, so excuse any dust. I can fix that tomorrow, but it’s getting late...” you stifle a yawn, “...so we should probably go to sleep now.”

Yuta looks at you and nods. 

“Um, well...goodnight.” You wave at him from the doorway before closing it.

As you make your way down the stairs, a sudden weariness and apprehension comes over you. An alien in your home? Escaped from a recently crashed UFO? Wearing one of your bathrobes? You’re almost positive you haven’t thought this through deeply enough, but you’re in it now. Might as well see where the rabbit hole leads to.

The next morning, you prepare yourself to go to work like you usually do. For a while, the house is so quiet that you almost forget Yuta is there until you see him standing in the kitchen entryway, still wearing his pink robe, and you almost jump through the ceiling.

“Jesus, you came out of nowhere,” you gasp, holding your heart.

“Where are you going?” Yuta asks. He steps into the kitchen and tentatively sits down in one of the dining table chairs.

“To work,” you say, and then pause. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to leave a freshly-landed alien at home alone. “Will you be okay here by yourself? I could come over on my lunch break…”

“What am I supposed to do here the whole time?” Yuta asks, sounding displeased at the thought of being abandoned for hours.

“Well...you could watch TV? There’s the on-demand channel...the fridge is available for you too, just try not to clean out my—wait, do you even eat human food?”

Yuta shrugs, crossing his arms. “Not really. It’s not a big source of nutrients for us.” 

You nod awkwardly. “Huh. Well, that’s...interesting.” The stress of the situation is already making your head pound and you haven’t even left for work yet. “Uh, yeah—I think I’ll just come over later and check in...come on, I’ll at least show you how to work the remote before I leave.”

You bid Yuta goodbye once you’re about to go, though you feel more than a little hesitant about leaving him there. There isn’t much other choice, though; you can’t afford to take a day off on such short notice.

The extraterrestrial sighs, sprawling across the couch and looking at the ceiling. The TV is already playing the channel you left it on, and Yuta turns to the screen and watches as a group of humans make weird food dishes he’s never seen before.

“This is stupid.”

The rest of the week with Yuta manages to be an adventure even though he never steps foot outside the house. 

Yuta doesn’t take a liking to human food, which means he opts for spending most of his time in the guest bathtub instead, claiming that the water gives him more nourishment than meals can. You don’t know how true that is, but you’re not going to fight him on it. Less food you have to prepare, you reason...although you often end up making extra anyway and getting him to try a few bites. It feels odd to not see him eat.

Living with someone from outer space is not really as weird as you expected it might be, which surprises you. Yuta stays in his human skin whenever he’s around you, and you steer clear of the guest bathroom when it’s occupied lest you walk in on something crazy. 

You’ve taught Yuta about new concepts he didn’t know before or wasn’t overly familiar with. He’s particularly intrigued with online shopping, and you ended up buying him a bunch of outfits that you both thought he’d look nice in. He doesn’t seem to be big on technology, which surprises you considering how advanced his UFO looked even its ruined state, but maybe human tech is more primitive than what he’s used to. He’s quite fascinated with the microwave, though, and how it can heat anything up in minutes.

With you uncovering new bits of information each day, you continually wonder how different his homeworld must be from the Earth. You can’t pull much out of him about it, for whatever reasons he has for keeping the information close, but you try to let him talk about it at his pace without pressuring him.

You could probably get used to living like this. 

Maybe not your wallet, though. You’re definitely not loving how your water bill is going to look once it comes in the mail.

None of your coworkers or neighbors know—not that it’s any of their business anyway. You don’t know how long Yuta is going to stay, or what the hell you’re going to do when his people finally catch wind of his whereabouts and land a UFO in your backyard, but you figure you’ll get to that part when it comes.

On one Saturday morning, you wake up to the sound of tapping on your door. You try to ignore it, thinking it’s just some woodpecker setting up shop outside your window, but you’re proven wrong when the door swings open.

You pull the covers away from your face for a moment to see Yuta standing there looking at you. You stare at him for a few seconds before sighing.

“Why are you up so early? It’s the weekend,” you groan, pulling the covers back over your head. 

“Why do you sleep so late?” Yuta retorts, still standing in your doorway. You don’t know whether he expects you to get up and do a trick, but it’s not happening. You peel the blanket away so it’s just below your eyes and look at him.

“What?”

“It’s not fun being here alone all day, you know,” he says, crossing his arms.

“So...what? Do you want me to play with you or something?” You can’t stop your sudden laugh, but you feel bad about once it’s out. He has just lost his ride home and has no foreseeable way back until someone notices his absence. Plus, needing to stay hidden and cooped up like a criminal can’t be enjoyable.

Yuta rolls his eyes at your response and starts down the hallway again, but you jump out of the bed and follow him. “Wait, Yuta, I’m sorry. That was stupid. I know it can’t be easy living like this. I’m not sure if I can make it better, but I’m willing to try.”

Yuta pauses in the hall and turns back to look at you. “I’m tired of being in here all the time....no offense. But there’s only so much I can take. I know I’m supposed to be in hiding, but it’s not like anyone can tell the difference. Even you couldn’t. Can’t we go out for one day?”

You think about it for a moment and figure he’s right. You both were trying to be overly cautious at first, but there’s no real way anyone would notice anything unless he shifted. “I guess we could...as long as we don’t go anywhere with a lot of water.”

“I have more self-control than that,” Yuta scoffs, though his words trail off as he’s already heading back to his room to get dressed.

You and Yuta walk around downtown for a little while, although you can’t shake the lingering nervousness you feel. You both decided not to head back to the city center any time soon; there’s not much left of the broken ship anyway, with scientists carting off pieces of it for research. Just as you thought. It’s too big to transport all at once, but you’re sure the remaining parts will be gone within the next couple weeks.

Yuta is continually surprised by how many new and unfamiliar things he spots along the way—things he actually gets to see up close and in detail. Kinda hard to focus when you’re running and hiding for your life.

Eventually, Yuta slows down as you walk past a small and colorful restaurant. “What’s that?” he asks, pointing up at the sign. You stop to turn around and see what he’s gesturing to.

“That’s just a hamburger joint...you won’t wanna go in there,” you say, raising your eyebrows. Because you don’t eat food. Despite that, Yuta still seems curious about the restaurant and he hesitates to walk away. Realizing that you aren’t going to get anywhere, you go to stand next to him and peer inside. There are a few people already inside, sitting at scattered tables and eating their food. “Do you want to go in, or…? ‘Cause you have to eat something if we do. This is your idea.”

“I’ll eat, let’s just go,” Yuta says, grasping your hand and pulling you into the restaurant.

You wave at the person behind the counter who greets you as you walk in, while Yuta is busy scanning every inch of the place. You let him look over the menu for a little while, but with so many options available he isn’t sure what to get—especially when he’s not sure if he’ll like any of them—so you end up picking for the both of you.

When you finally get your food, you take it to one of the tables. You watch attentively as Yuta takes the first bite of his hamburger, and you try to stifle your giggles as you watch his face go from nonchalance to bewilderment to shock.

“This is actually...good.”

“Wait, this is really the first meal you’ve liked? Are you saying my cooking is bad? Damn.” You chuckle, shaking your head. 

“I’m not answering that.” Yuta laughs along with you, which is probably the first genuinely happy expression he’s shown since he’s been here.

Yuta has a very pretty smile, you realize. You’re a little taken aback by it. You haven’t seen much of it since you met him, but it’s here now and striking in its genuine quality. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside...which you mainly attribute to the satisfaction of doing something nice for someone else. Of course. Who wouldn’t enjoy a nice meal they didn’t have to pay for?

Things go smoothly for a while as you both eat and pretend to make boring small talk since you can’t talk about him being an alien in public. However, you feel sweat on the back of your neck when you see your coworker Alex walk through the door with his boyfriend. This city is too small for its own good sometimes. 

You try not to call attention to yourself and Yuta, keeping your gaze on your food, but he spots you anyway and waves enthusiastically. Alex gestures for his partner to go ahead and order while he comes over to your table.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s great to see you! Too bad we missed you at the UFO wreck today, though; we went out again one last time before they take the whole thing away,” he rushes out in one breath. Yuta’s eye twitches at the mention of his ship, and you’re suddenly on edge, hoping the situation doesn’t turn sour.

“Oh, uh, wow, that’s...cool!” you choke out, pinching your straw between your fingers. Before you can think of a way to divert the subject, Alex turns to Yuta.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Alex! Who’s this? Your boyfriend?” The last few words are directed at you. Alex gives you a playful grin, and you toss him an embarrassed smile back.

“Uh, no, he’s my friend! Yuta.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yuta says, though you can recognize his tone is a bit dry.

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Alex’s boyfriend calls him from the other side of the restaurant, and he turns to respond before taking his leave. “Ah well, looks like we’ll have to cut it short, but it was so great to see you guys. Enjoy your lunch!”

You let out the breath you were subconsciously holding once he leaves.

“Boyfriend…” Yuta murmurs.

“What?”

“That would be really weird. Wouldn’t it? We’re not even the same species,” he says, lowering his voice. It’s not like you don’t agree, but you admittedly don’t appreciate the way Yuta screws his face up at the thought. You prickle with embarrassment.

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Well I’m not exactly eager to date an overgrown fish, so…” You almost expect Yuta to fall into another one of his moods at your words, but he actually chuckles a bit, which surprises you.

“Then it’s mutual!” Yuta sticks his tongue out and you roll your eyes.

The warm and fuzzy feeling, you soon find out, is not a one-time thing.

You don’t quite know what to make of that. You wouldn’t like for Yuta to go back to his initial broody state, of course, but you’re starting to believe this feeling can’t just be attributed to your charitable actions. You can’t stop thinking about the more playful side of Yuta you saw at the burger place that day, and the way he’s been gradually more open with you since then.

Yuta usually spends his nights splashing around in the guest bathtub, but one night he wanders into the living room and sees you putting your afro in plaits. He becomes weirdly fascinated with the process, watching you carefully and asking occasional questions. Amused by his interest, you answer all his questions and even offer to let him do one section. 

“It’s probably not the same, but I used to braid my friend’s hair often…” he says wistfully as he settles in behind you. “We did a lot of things together.”

Your ears perk up. “Oh? You sound like you were very close,” you say, resting your chin on your knees.

“Really close,” he affirms. His hands are gentle in your hair, as testament to his words. You close your eyes and relax into the sensation, and before you know it, that warmth is spreading through your chest again. You even allow yourself to wonder what it’d be like for him to do this all the time, tending to your hair and telling you about his homeworld, before you open your eyes again and quickly pull yourself out of that reverie. You probably shouldn’t get too used to this, you reason with yourself. “I think she’s what you’d call a mermaid...except the look is a bit...different.”

“Different?” you echo, wondering if you’ll get an explanation.

“They don’t have human arms or anything like that...it’s more like tentacles.”

“Ah,” you try to imagine that, though it’s hard. “That’s certainly unique.”

“Maybe you’d like it...my planet, I mean.”

“You think I would? Why?”

“I dunno, just a feeling…”

“If only I could breathe underwater,” you laugh. “You’d take me back, though? Hypothetically, of course. I’m not too human for you?”

“Will you ever let that one go? It’s probably the least I could do after setting up residence here. Maybe we’ll get you an alien costume, though, so you’ll fit in.”

“How nice of you to think of me in all my humanness. God, the universe is something else…”

You start when Yuta’s hands leave your hair. “I think I’m done?” he says, sitting back on his feet. You grab the mirror from the coffee table and look at the braid you let him do.

“Oh wow, it looks good.” You purse your lips to hide the grin about to break across your face. “Do you wanna do the rest?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“Go ahead then, my hands needed a break anyway.”

You sit back and let Yuta finish the rest of your hair, listening quietly as he tells you more about his friend from his homeworld. Her name is unpronounceable to you, but it sounds pretty all the same. They grew up together, he says, and have been on lots of adventures over the years, though he still keeps that same vagueness he always has when describing his life. He ends up getting you to tell him more about your life, which you do; you figure he probably doesn’t know a whole lot about you, either.

Yuta hands you the mirror when he’s done, and his head pops up next to yours in the reflection. “Good?”

“It’s great!” you say, and you really mean it.

You discover that, strangely enough, Yuta has an affinity for sci-fi movies. Go figure. He especially seems to like the campiness of alien films; then again, everything is campy to him because of how different it is from how extraterrestrials actually live.

You are in the middle of watching The Fly when it comes to one of sex scenes, and you try not to sweat. It’s always a little awkward to watch sex scenes with other people, but doing it with an alien gives the whole thing an extra layer of weirdness.

“Human sex is so funny,” Yuta says out of nowhere. You just barely avoid choking on your drink.

“Uh, o-okay. Do I want to know what that means?”

Yuta only shrugs and leans farther back onto the couch, looking completely unbothered about what he’s just said. “It just is.”

“...I’m sure your people must procreate some kinda way?”

“Yeah, but it’s not quite this. But when I’m in this form, I can do it as humans do.”

That makes you pause, and you’re not sure what to do with that information. Actually, your mind has already decided for itself and is trying to go to a place you don’t want it to, and you’re mildly horrified by that revelation. There’s no real reason why you should be curious about it. And yet...

“Hummm...have you done it before? In this form?” You keep your eyes glued to the screen, which is now showing a shirtless Jeff Goldblum doing acrobatics—but that’s still less awkward than looking over at Yuta right now.

“There was one time.”

There is a twinge of something in your chest. Fascination? Sure. Revulsion? Maybe not that. Dare you call it anything close to jealousy? You immediately throw that one out the door, sink further into your seat, and try not to think about what your life has come to.

“Okay, since you still won’t tell me directly if you’ve been here before, at least tell me this; did it happen here on Earth? With a human?”

Yuta shakes his head. “Some other aliens have weird fetishes. I only did it because she asked and was really adamant about it.”

“Ooookay, you know what…” You get up from the couch and walk to the kitchen, laughing awkwardly all the way. You don’t have any particular reason to go in there, but you have to do something with the nervous energy that’s about to make you jump out of your skin. You pretend to shuffle around in the fridge for a minute so you don’t look too silly getting up for no reason.

After taking a moment to calm down, you turn back to Yuta. “Okay. Hypothetically, if you wanted, could you actually…? With a human? In your natural form? Or would the parts be incompatible, or...”

“Maybe...I’m not sure. It’s not like I’ve ever tried. Why?” Yuta gives you a look that’s partway between curiosity and incredulity, and you wave your hand in dismissal.

“It’s just a question.”

Yuta leans forward on the couch, barely concealing his own amusement at whatever he’s cooking up in his mind. “Are you saying you want to try it with me?”

“You’re not funny,” you sigh, trying to ignore the way your skin is burning at that suggestion. “Remind me not to ask you anything like that again.”

When you get home from work one weeknight, you roll your eyes at the mass text sitting in your inbox, forwarded to you from Alex. Another after-work party, which means another event where someone will run through the sprinklers naked and everyone will pretend like they don’t remember it the next workday.

You don’t know how you’re going to get out of this one, especially with Yuta, who will likely want to go if he finds out, so you decide to just come out and say it and see what happens.

“Hey Yuta…” You slide up behind him where he’s sitting on the couch. “I just wanted to let you know I won’t be at home for a few hours on Saturday. I’m going to a party this weekend. It’s a friend’s party, someone from work.”

Yuta looks at you forlornly. “The same person we met at the restaurant?”

“No, but he’s gonna be there too. Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I really don’t know if it’s safe for you to go…”

“That’s not fair, the last time at the restaurant went well,” Yuta argues.

“Yes, but this guy has a pool and he’s a dickhead who likes to push people in and what if you get caught off guard and change unexpectedly?”

Yuta’s response is as straightforward as you expected it to be. “Then I’ll punch him in the face.”

You laugh at that and shake your head, coming to sit beside him on the couch. “Ugh. As satisfying as that sounds, I don’t need the extra stress of dealing with the aftermath. I don’t know, Yuta...do you think you’ll be okay? God, I feel like an overprotective mom or some shit.”

“Y/N, it’ll be fine, stop worrying. I can take care of myself,” Yuta insists, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes. He’s a little closer than you anticipated, which makes your heart rate increase a little. You chalk that reaction up to his invasion of your personal space and shift away, groaning.

“Fine, I’ll bring you. But if shit goes down, I can’t promise an easy way out. Let’s just keep things lowkey, alright?”

“Of course I can do that! I’ve been doing it so far haven’t I?” he says, but somehow you’re not entirely convinced.

The party is filled with people you know from work and a slew of unfamiliar faces, probably your coworkers’ friends. It’s mostly a backyard party, like you already knew, although there are some people mingling within the house.

There are already a few people lounging in the pool. In any other scenario, it might be inviting to you, but now you just look at all that water with a looming sense of anxiety. Yuta sticks close to your side, saying nothing but studying everyone around him.

“Y/N!” your coworker David shouts from the backdoor of his house. He holds up his beer in salutation and you wave back at him, mildly annoyed that he’s brought everyone’s attention to you both. He hustles over to you and claps you on the back strong enough to make your bones rattle, and you wince. “Hey dude!” He reaches across you to pull Yuta into a handshake, and Yuta also winces when he grips his hand a little too tight. “Make yourselves at home, I’ve got everything you could ever need—including the booze and babes!” You both nod awkwardly before David goes off to greet someone else who’s just pulled up. You roll your eyes once he’s gone.

Yuta’s eyebrows draw together. “That was…”

“Annoying,” you finish for him.

“You don’t seem to like him. Why did you decide to come?”

“Workplace politics, if you’re the only one who doesn’t come it’s awkward, ugh. It’s just bullshit. Let’s not get into it.” You walk towards the house and Yuta follows, and you nod at a few people you know along the way.

You find Alex in the kitchen, where he offers to make drinks for you and Yuta. You cast a glance at Yuta, wondering if he’ll take up the offer; you have no idea how he’ll react to alcohol, or if they drink any equivalent of it on his homeworld.

“Um, I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh okay, straight-edge guy! That’s cool too,” Alex grins, making just the one drink for you. As you and Alex talk, the girl from your department whose neighborhood was about to be evacuated sidles up to your little group.

“I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name?”

“Oh...it’s Yuta.”

“Yuta? How cool, I’m Sooyoung.”

Little did you know that that one introduction would expand into them having a half-hour long conversation right there in the kitchen. You really don’t know how Yuta is pulling this off without spilling the beans, but then again, you do; he’s good enough at manipulating the conversation to make it seem like he’s sharing personal info when he’s really not. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he throws in things you taught him every so often.

Alex notices your changing demeanor and follows you as you walk into the living room, finally exhausted with playing third wheel. “Hm, someone seems a little spicy.”

You cough. “I’m fine, it’s just cramped in there, David should really invest in a bigger house..this place could use a remodel.” You throw a glance around the living room, not wanting to see the mischievous look in Alex’s eyes.

“Well, remodel aside, it’s not really my business, but you certainly seem to have a little green monster brewing here.”

You give Alex a long look. “Don’t. He’s my friend. He’s not even—” You have to stop yourself before you expose anything, and you shift nervously on your feet.

“Not even what? Your type? I don’t know, he’s handsome enough to me. You can’t go wrong with a pretty boy. Don’t tell Xavier I said that, though.”

“Lord, let me get the hell out of here…” You leave Alex to cackle to himself while you go out into the backyard again, holding your drink and mulling around the edges of the activity. Too busy wrestling with your own emotions, you don’t realize how close you’ve drifted towards the pool.

“Hey, Y/N?” David says from behind you.

“Yeah?” You go to turn towards him, but before you can, you feel a huge shove from behind and the next thing you know your feet are off the ground and you’re in the pool. It all happens so fast that you can barely catch your bearings, and for a terrifying moment you’re convinced you’re about to drown.

The seconds feel like minutes, and you can’t even open your eyes to tell up from down. The next thing you register is an arm around your waist, and somehow you’re being pulled up even though you’re too panicked to even control your limbs. Your head pops above the water and you cough and sputter loudly, trying to take in air. You try to blink the water out of your eyes, though it drips off your hair and makes it even harder to see.

You’re still not sure what the hell is going on until you’re hauled out of the water and sitting on the ground. Someone hands you a towel, and you hear a female voice saying you’re such an asshole, David.

You wipe the water off of your face and then you’re finally able to see; Yuta is crouching in front of you, just as soaked as you are and staring at you with a worried expression. You look back at him, disoriented and a little dumbfounded at his still-human state.

“You didn’t…”

Even though you’re still trembling with the fear of almost drowning, you’re unable to look anywhere but at Yuta for that moment—at the pure concern on his face.

“Nice going, David,” someone else says sarcastically.

“It was just a bit of a prank! No hard feelings guys, come on. Y/N?” You realize David is standing on your left, and he tries to come closer, his hands open in an apologetic gesture. You jerk away from him, holding the towel to your shaking form.

“Get the fuck away from me. You’re a fucking idiot!” you shout. “All you do is ‘play pranks’ and then you wonder why no one likes you!” That draws a few barely concealed laughs out of the people standing nearby, though you don’t think any of it is funny. David steps back, unsure how to respond and looking truly embarrassed for once in his life.

Filled with anger, you try to get to your feet but you’re still unsteady. Yuta puts his arm around you again, lifting you up and encouraging you to lean your weight on him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You don’t have much to say on the way back home. You insist on leaving right away even though Yuta suggests you sit and wait until the tremors subside. He obviously can’t drive you back home, so it’s all he can offer, though it doesn’t make you feel much better.

The silence itself isn’t particularly awkward to Yuta, but he is uncomfortable anyway because he knows it stems from your own discomfort. At a red light, he turns to you.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, and then he speaks again. “I know you’re mad about the pool, but...it seems like there’s more than that. Did...you not like me spending so much time with Sooyoung?”

You scoff. “You can’t be serious. I don’t care what you and that girl do.”

“You’re not a very good liar.” You’re too worn out to argue, so you merely give him a sidelong glance. Yuta sits back in his seat and watches a few cars zip past, their tail lights looking like clashing stars against the night. He’s not used to so much...manmade stuff. There was his ship and his trackers, of course, but he still has a hard time adjusting to be surrounded by so much iron and steel. His own planet is ruled by nature, by the vast oceans in all their unpolluted original essence, but Earth—or at least this portion of it—is much, much different.

He means to glance back at you, but his eyes linger for a while longer than intended. He’s not sure why. Maybe it’s because your outfit is a pretty color, or because the coils of your hair look shiny reflecting the light. He’s never put much thought into human beings before, and his limited experiences with them were mostly better left unremembered. Taking a human form was no huge deal for him; just a move that was necessary at the time.

But now, he’s seeing humanity—and most specifically, you—in a different light, and he’s uncertain what to do with this realization. People have feelings, thoughts, and dreams, like his own species, or like any other. He’s beginning to care what you think of him, how you react to him, even though he doesn’t know why this matters.

“You look pretty,” Yuta says. The compliment is the last thing you expected from him. It seems especially random after what happened at the party; here you are, soaking wet and incredibly uncomfortable. You’re a little late to put your foot on the gas pedal once the light turns green, and someone behind you honks.

“Pretty? I thought humans were weird to you.” Your mind goes back to The Fly and the subsequent conversation you had, and your hands tighten minutely around the steering wheel.

“You are. That hasn’t changed.”

“Good to know.” You don’t want to laugh, but this does make you crack a smile. “But...thanks. And...thanks for that, at the pool, you know. I should...probably trust you more.”

The rest of the ride is a little more talkative after that, and Yuta is happy that he could lighten your mood if even a little bit. Although he wouldn’t tell you, he’s becoming accustomed to your smile, and he’s more displeased than he thought he could be when it’s absent.

The thunder booms so loudly that it makes your window frames shake. It almost reminds you of the day Yuta’s ship fell out of the sky. You pull the covers tighter around yourself as if they alone could protect you from the storm’s fierceness. Storm clouds have been brewing all day, but the skies didn’t open until you and Yuta went to bed. Now, the rain and lightning is in full force. The rain pounds against your window, sounding more like hail or even bullets.

You’re startled for a second time when there’s a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in?”

The door opens slightly and Yuta appears in the small sliver of space. “Sorry, but...can I sleep here? The storm...” He gestures to the window, where a crack of lightning strikes right after. He’s wearing a sleep shirt and loose pants, and his blonde hair is disheveled. 

“Uh, sure.” You shuffle over to make room for him. “I guess this isn’t your type of water, is it?” He huddles underneath the covers with you, facing you with his arm tucked under the unoccupied pillow.

“Not when it’s so intense like this.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “It’s scary. Does rainy weather make you think of your homeworld often?”

“Often,” he repeats. “But...I think I’d be worse off if I weren’t here.”

“Here...on Earth?”

“I mean, here with you.”

“Oh,” is all you can think to say. It’s a surprisingly personal confession, though you are grateful you’ve become someone so important in his life already, even if it’s only because you’ve given him shelter. That familiar warmth spreads through you again. 

Warm and fuzzies = gratefulness to a friend, the feeling you get when you pet a cute puppy. Right. It’s not the sensation you get when you think you might have feelings for your extraterrestrial friend, you try to convince yourself. “I’m...glad you’re here. Maybe not under these circumstances, but still.”

Yuta nods without speaking, but he doesn’t take his eyes away from you. You think he must be waiting on you to say something else.

“What?” you ask quietly when he keeps staring at you. “Take a picture, it will last longer.” Your joke does little to clear the air, and the tension keeps rising. You should probably be the first one to look away, to end whatever weird game this is and go to sleep, but you can’t. It’s unexplainable.

Yuta props himself up on his elbow, and you’re about to ask him where he’s going when he slips his hand onto your bare shoulder. You’re already covered by the blankets, but you suddenly feel even hotter with his hand on you, sliding up from your shoulder to the side of your face. “Y-Yuta…?”

You don’t know what to say or do, but you don’t object when he leans closer. Your faces are only inches apart now, like he’s hesitating and wondering if he should cross the line. The thunderstorm is intense, but this moment feels much more suspenseful than that could ever be. And then, it’s suddenly satisfying when his lips are on yours.

The kiss starts gentle. He’s careful as if he’s afraid to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s soft and sweet. Things get more heated when his tongue prods against your lower lip and enters your mouth. You don’t know when his hand made it from your face to your side, but he pulls you close with his fingers pressing into the flesh just below your breasts, and you tremble at the proximity.

When you pull away, both of you are breathing harder and unable to look each other in the eye.

“Should we be doing this?” you whisper.

Yuta shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it feels good.”

At those words, you pause for a moment before moving to kiss him again. His lips respond deftly to yours, his body crowding you in and making you feel hot and enraptured with desire from where you still lie under the covers.

His hair is very soft when you slide your hands through it, though you can’t push away the thought that suddenly manifests in the back of your mind. This isn’t really his hair, or his lips, is it? It’s all a mask to cover whatever is underneath, which is something you still don’t entirely know, yet are increasingly curious about.

Yuta’s hand drifts up just high enough to caress the underside of your breast—all still over the cover of your clothes. Abruptly, that thought forces its way to the front of your mind, making itself unavoidable, and you have no idea how to reconcile it. This is all so...very unfamiliar. And undeniably scary.

You pull away from him, your face creased with conflict, and his hand stills on your body. “S-sorry, I…um...this is...”

Subsequently, he pulls his hand away from you, though some part of you doesn’t really want that to happen. “I-it’s fine.”

You both settle back into the sheets, the tense aura from before replaced with one that’s thick with unease. The storm continues on outside, unknowing and uncaring of anything else but its own nature.

Though you would like to pretend it isn’t so, things become strained after the night of the storm.

You and Yuta don’t talk about the kiss. You expected him to say something about it that morning after, but he didn’t acknowledge it, and so you figured you just forget about it, too. What are you thinking, anyway? You’re literally from two different worlds. You don’t have the first clue about what a connection would look like between you, whether it be just sex or a relationship.

Why couldn’t you just fall for a coworker and have a bit of office drama like everyone else? Even that would be simpler.

Why did you have to let your thoughts get the best of you? You don’t have any answer for that, except for maybe your own need to come to terms with your attraction. People have never been very skilled at accepting others different from themselves, you know that much. But that usually counts for people of different ethnicities or cultural backgrounds, not two entirely different species.

You spend the whole week afterwards tearing your mind up with this monologue and trying to figure out what you should do next, because you’re quickly growing weary of coming home to a tense atmosphere. Alex can only give so much advice—not that you’d really tell him the entire situation—without knowing just how complicated everything is.

Where he used to hang out with you and help you with your hair, Yuta spends more time up in the guest bathroom again. You wonder if he thinks you’re disgusted by him. You’d probably think the same if he reacted the way you did.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta is facing the situation with a similar amount of inner turmoil as you, wondering if he’s gone too far. He’s done many silly things in his life, but he doesn’t know how to undo this mistake. The mistake of kissing you? The mistake of seeing you as more than just another human? The mistake of knowingly flying in a faulty ship? Maybe all of it.

He feels guilty about freezing you out and pretending as if nothing happened, especially with all you’ve done to make him safe and comfortable in your home. But, at the same time, he is equally frightened to face you and discover the real reasoning for why you pulled away that night. Because you’ll never see him as someone you could like? Or maybe even love?

If that’s your truth, he’d rather leave it unsaid.

There aren’t many choices left but to face it. Whether this idea is smart or not is yet to be seen, but you suppose you don’t have many solutions left. And you are sick of being cooped up in the house.

“You sure this is safe?” Yuta asks as he stares at the scenery whizzing past. “You were all freaked out about me being near water before...now you want to go to a lake?”

You glance over at him. “Yes, it’s my parents’ lake property. It’s private, Yuta. No one will be there but us. I think we could both use a mini vacation this weekend, yeah?” 

“I guess, sure.” Yuta shrugs. His demeanor is more closed off than it was before that dreaded kiss, but you can still tell that he’s interested in the idea of getting access to a bigger body of water, even if he doesn’t outwardly express it.

The lake house is two hours out of your city. It hasn’t been used much in the past few years with both you and your parents being busy with work and life, but if there was ever a good time to use it, it’s probably now. You just hope there aren’t any squatters of the furry variety; the last thing you need is to be fighting raccoons or squirrels after stepping through the door.

Luckily, there’s really no one but you two once you reach your destination. The lake is big and pretty like you last remembered it, sparkling under the sun and throwing the rays back in your eyes. Yuta is automatically captivated by it.

“Here it is!” you say, walking along the sand and spreading your arms out towards the body of water. “It might not be much compared to your homeworld, but I hope it’s enough.” You carry your bag up the stairs to the house and turn back to Yuta, who’s still standing by the shore gazing across the water. “You can go in, you know? Get comfortable!”

That seems to snap him out of his trance, and he turns back to you, following you up the steps. “Not right now...I’ll go later.” You’re a little disappointed at that, but you simply nod and open the door to go in.

You spend the day getting increasingly more restless as you and Yuta hang out together. You go on the pier, walk around the entirety of the lake, and even take your dad’s boat out on the water, but he still doesn’t get in.

You eat dinner together later that night, although you’re the one doing most of the eating, and there isn’t much conversation to be had. You’ve both run out of things to say that don’t center around the kiss or why he refuses to get in the water.

Yuta spends a few more moments watching you push your food around your plate before leaning forward. “Why did you bring me here?” he asks.

You sigh heavily. “Do you not like it?”

“No, I do, but…” he hesitates. “Can you answer my question first?

You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, well. I brought you here because...I don’t know. I figure you deserve to have somewhere bigger to swim around in than my guest bathtub.” You laugh nervously.

He seems unconvinced. “Is that it?”

“I’d say so! Why won’t you even take one swim, is the better question? I want you to relax and be yourself.”

He furrows his eyebrows as if he doesn’t know how to reply. “You...aren’t you...repulsed by it? I just figured you wouldn’t want to see me in my natural form. Especially since…” He trails off at the end, and your palms sweat a little.

“No! I know I was weirded out at first, but...I-I guess that was the point of this whole trip, to show you that…” You grapple with your words for a moment, unsure if now is the time to fully confess what you’re feeling. “Look, I want to try, alright? I want to see it at least once. I want to accept you as a whole being, and that means, you know...all of you.”

Yuta smiles gradually at that, and you feel swept up with a sudden wave of affection you weren’t expecting. You are still a bit scared, but you don’t want to turn back now. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, clasping your shaking hands together.

Yuta nods and stands up from the dining table, gesturing for you to follow him. It’s late now, with the moon shining brightly and the last vestiges of dark blue sky giving way to black. The air outside is cool, but not uncomfortably so. You follow Yuta to the pier and watch timidly, your stomach flip-flopping, as he sheds his clothes, leaving them on the wooden deck. Then he slips into the water, disappearing underneath its still surface.

You crouch down, looking intently at the rippling water and anticipating whoever is going to resurface. The sounds of croaking frogs and crickets press in from every side, ringing in your ears so loudly that it’s hard to think straight.

You gasp when Yuta lifts from the water, his human skin gone and completely transformed into something that’s more...amphibian, if that’s any accurate way to describe his appearance. His skin is still scaly and green like you saw that first day, but in the moonlight it seems to glitter and reflect a spectrum of colors like his armor did. There are two fins on the either side of his face, translucent and shining a pale green. They slowly move back and forth as he treads on the water, as if they’re conveying an emotion to match whatever he’s thinking, and you watch them in fascination.

Yuta floats on his back in the water, the long gills on either of his sides catching the moonlight. You watch in fascination as they move with his breaths. Using the pier post to keep yourself stable, you reach out to touch them. They’re slick under your fingers, but not in a slimy or gross way. Your hand drifts to the rest of his skin, across his torso and along his sides, and every portion has a strikingly smooth texture. His alien eyes stare at you silently as you do, glittering big in the moonlight.

“What do you think?” his voice is quieter than you expected, as if he’s afraid of your reaction. He doesn’t break his gaze, though, studying your face carefully.

“You’re...amazing,” you say breathlessly. “Incredible.” 

His lips, which are green like the rest of him, form a small smile, and then he dives underneath the water. He does a few laps as if he means to impress you, his lithe marine form sparkling just below the surface of the water. You keep your hand suspended over the pier as you watch him, your fingers sliding against his body every time he passes by. You smile at his display, a laugh coming out of you at his impromptu performance.

When he’s finished, Yuta climbs up onto the pier with you and kneels in front of you, much like he did that day he saved you from David’s swimming pool. His feet are webbed like his hands. Droplets of water slide off of them onto the wooden boardwalk while others linger on the clear webbing like tiny jewels. Your hand is magnetized to his face, drawing across the scaly skin and tracing over his lips, which are just as smooth as the rest of him.

Before you can think twice about it, you lean forward and capture his lips with yours. Did you expect it to be fishy? Maybe. But it’s not that at all. He still manages to taste distinctly like Yuta, even though you’re not sure what that taste is. It’s a flavor that makes you feel...held. Yuta is surprised for a moment, but he responds to your kiss, one of his webbed hands inching close to your face. He doesn’t touch you at first, a little reluctant and yet wanting to let you lead the pace so he doesn’t scare you off.

You welcome his touch, carefully brushing your fingertips across his hand and bringing it to make contact with your skin. His own skin is still a bit cold from the water’s temperature, but it doesn’t bother you much.

The kiss soon grows more intense, and a mounting desire makes itself known in you. You won’t pretend like you’re 100% confident about all of this, but you don’t want to shun it anymore, either.

Yuta’s hand drifts to your neck, his long nails pressing into your skin ever so slightly. You dare to explore his body more, sliding your hands across his chest and over his side gills, feeling the way they contract under your hands, and farther down still. You haven’t looked down there yet, and you’re nervous over what you’ll find. But you keep going until your fingers meet something slick and hot and throbbing, seeming vaguely like a regular penis, though you quickly realize it’s more of a tentacle.

Yuta shudders and draws away from the kiss, and you feel alarmed, wondering if you’ve gone too far without thinking.

“If we’re going to do this, I should...probably shift back—”

“Don’t,” you blurt out. Yuta looks at you questioningly. “I...you should if it makes you comfortable. But...I don’t mind.” He’s quiet for a few seconds—seconds that feel much longer than they really are. You’re apprehensive of what he’ll say, but you keep your eyes on his face.

“Okay,” he agrees. “If you’ll accept me like this...okay.” 

Neither of you bother with moving to somewhere more comfortable like the lake house or even the sandy shore. Instead, Yuta peels your clothes away right there on the pier, covering every new bit of flesh with his strange and lovely mouth, his head fins ghosting across your collarbones and breasts like moths’ wings.

You tremble and grow wetter under his soft caresses, which are much gentler than you’d initially expect with his sharp black nails. His hands leave streaks of water across your body, which cools your burning hot skin.

Yuta carefully maneuvers your lower body at the same time as he bends his graceful head, bringing your sex close to his mouth and licking deeply into you. Your back presses hard against the pier, the wood scratching your skin as you cry out into the night air.

“Oh God, Yuta!” You soon realize that his tongue is much longer than any human one, and it reaches to a spot deep inside of you that makes you twist around in his grasp, your fingernails scrambling for purchase on the surface below you. He uses his tongue to pleasure that spot continuously, drawing moans and ever more wetness out of you as if he were controlling the waves in the ocean.

You find yourself coming apart on his extraordinarily long tongue, your legs shaking and then going limp with the pleasure flooding through your body. Your breaths come fast and hard. Yuta lifts his head from between your legs and pulls you carefully into his lap so his slick tentacle is pressing against you. It’s not hard like a dick would be, though it is clearly responsive to your body, and you momentarily wonder if it can even go inside you.

“Is this gonna work?” you ask, a tremor in your voice.

“It will work,” Yuta replies, and you’re not sure how, but you decide to trust him on it. 

It does, to your surprise. With your legs crossed tightly over his lower back, Yuta presses into you, wet and warm and very unexpectedly soft. It doesn’t feel like anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s not a bad sensation, though—far from it. His tentacle is similar to his tongue in how it flexes and throbs inside you, pressing tight against that spot again and making you shiver in his arms.

You both quickly find a rhythm that works, your bodies moving together in an otherworldly combination of two beings, two species, two souls.

Yuta’s long nails scrape gently against your skin as he holds your back, guiding you on his sex and pushing his hips up into you. You sigh into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, feeling the cool scales underneath your lips. You seek a firm grip on his slick skin, bringing your body as close to his as possible.

“Yuta…” You moan his name. His hand slides to the back of your neck so he can bring your face to his again, kissing you deeply. There’s a wet squelching sound as your bodies connect, Yuta’s tentacle slipping in and out of you and pleasurably stroking your walls.

“Y/N…” Yuta whispers into your soft hair, pushing into your spot repeatedly, his thighs tensing under you as his pace increases. You grip his arms as you feel your orgasm swelling up in your abdomen. You tip your head back and Yuta’s mouth goes to your neck and farther down, his heavy breaths warming your skin and making you overheat from the inside out.

You tighten and cum around him, your voice stuttering out of you in broken gasps as he keeps thrusting into you, drawing your climax out. He pulses inside of you, which sends little shockwaves up your spine; you know he’s probably close, too.

When Yuta comes, there’s a lot more of it than you expected. His cum overflows and drips out of you with a consistency like syrup and a transparent color like precum. It makes the inside of your thighs sticky and shiny.

Yuta pulls out, and more of his cum spills out of you, leaking onto his lap and staining the pier underneath you.

“That’s not gonna get me pregnant, is it?” you say quietly, half-jokingly.

“Probably not,” Yuta chuckles.

“Probably!?”

Yuta carefully gathers you in his arms and stands to his feet, walking you off the pier and back towards the lake house. Your clothes are still on the pier, but you’re quickly getting sleepy and aren’t very worried about it; you’ll get them in the morning.

“What happens now?” Yuta murmurs as he walks up the front steps. You already know he’s referring not just to your relationship in this present moment, but to every event that will make up your future. Does he need to continue hiding, or is it really safe? How long will this last?

You close your eyes, resting your head against his chest. “We stay together.”

Yuta’s arms tighten around you as a silent affirmation of your words.