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mochimooon · 6 months

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DTF Only (Let's Experiment) - connie springer x reader 18+

pairing: Connie Springer x afab! Reader summary: Connie invites you to a kick-back for some playtime ;) word count: 3500+ notes: Part 4 of DTF Only. My first piece with Connie, don't know what took me so long to write for him because this was more fun than I thought ! I need to write more of him. (Indented text refers to Reader's messages). Thank you to those who gave me ideas of what kind of tattoos Connie would have on this post. I appreciate the inspo! warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, handjobs, vaginal sex ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

You declined Reiner’s offer to stay over. He was still kind of enough to drive you home afterwards. While you had fun with him, you didn’t want to make it awkward for him when he had to check out of the hotel.

Exhausted, you collapse onto your bed after your nighttime routine, reopening Tinder before you go to sleep.

A new message from another match came through a few hours earlier.

Hey there!!!!! What’s up? Wanna hang?

Tapping on Connie’s profile, you see that he’s currently active.

The enthusiasm is nice, but you take the time to assess his profile and pictures like you did with Reiner and Porco.

Light brown hair, kept on the shorter side, cartilage piercings on one ear, and as seen in every photo, a tattoos along his arm. You can’t make out what they are, however. He’s another cutie. You always knew you had good taste as far looks go.

Judging from the pictures, he’s a musician, whether professional or amateur, you don’t know, seated behind a drum set with a video of him in action. The clashing of symbols and beating of drums echo loudly in your room and you can tell he’s got a lot of energy. He’s twenty-eight, so that could explain the spunk.

Switching over to his bio, you laugh.

Drummer 🥁 420 friendly 5’9”, sorry ladies, but God put the extra inches elsewhere 😉

Hey Connie In bed but would like to hang out some time Free this week?

Hey!!! I’m free rn!!! I’m a great cuddler 😉

Good to know lol

Jk You doing anything tomorrow night? My friend is hosting a kick-back, come by!

A party? On a Tuesday night? Connie’s friends must be an interesting bunch.

Haha kinda My friends have weird schedules, so we end up meeting randomly during the week A couple people, nothing wild, what do you say? Be my guest? 😁

You see no harm in it, and if you do end up sleeping with Connie, there’s a guarantee that you’ll have a room.

Yesssss!!!! It starts at 7:30p Here’s my number btw, I can send you the address through there.

You debate whether you want to exchange numbers right away.

Alright, just sent you a text.

Connie abandons the conversation on Tinder, replying via his number.

Nice! Can’t wait to meet you Anyways…what’re you wearing to bed?

Good night

…

You can hear the music playing faintly on the other side of the door, so you ring the doorbell after knocking to ensure that someone will answer.

It swings open a minute later, and you’re met with a confused looking man with blond hair.

I can never escape the blond men, you muse, straining a smile.

“Hi…” Your eyes peek over the man’s frame for any sign of Connie. “Connie invited me.”

He tilts his head, thinking for a moment when it clicks. “Oh! Oh, yeah, he said you’re coming.” He says your name and you confirm with a nod. “Cool, come inside—”

“Is she here?” a voice rings out, an octave higher than the music.

Connie sidles to the blond man, skidding to a stop like an eager dog, greeting you. “Hi! Thanks for coming by! Come in, come in, this is Niccolo by the way, it's his house.”

You and Niccolo exchange an awkward wave as you step inside, allowing Connie to slide his arm along your shoulders.

In person, his hair is a little longer, on the scruffy side; you think it suits him best, and up close you get a better look at the piercings on his ear. He’s got a total of three. He’s wearing a long-sleeve, flannel overshirt, so his tattoos are hidden from view, however you notice a small smiley tattoo peeking behind the shell of his ear.

And as he eagerly leads you through the home, asking in earnest about your day, practically skipping at your side, you’re endeared by him. He’s really cute.

The kick-back is mainly in the living room, although you did see a couple of people trickle in and out of the kitchen. Connie reels you over to the couch where a small group of friends are mingling.

“Guess who’s here in the flesh!” Connie calls their attention, squeezing your shoulder with excitement. He introduces you to each friend.

“Onyankopon,” Connie says.

You take the friendly man’s hand, recognizing him in at least one of Connie’s pictures. “Hi.”

He smiles. “Good to meet you. Connie’s been excited all night.”

“Has he?” You look to the man at your side.

Connie beams with an affirmative nod, and you breathe a laugh at that.

“Same here,” you say.

“That’s Sasha and that’s Yelena.” Connie points to two women, rolling up a spliff. “Sasha’s Niccolo’s sweetheart.” Connie lowers his voice to your ear, like it’s a secret. “And over here…”

You’re paraded around like a shiny, new toy, but you can tell it’s well-meaning. As for his friends, they’re all friendly, seizing a chance at small talk with you before Connie intervenes to introduce you to more people.

From the amount of guests, you met within the first hour, you gathered that Connie’s a popular guy, and it’s easy to see why.

He’s so friendly with everyone, eager to have you feel welcomed that you’re content just being there. But you’d be remiss to say that you didn’t want to see more of him in private.

“You’re really cute by the way,” Connie says as you both take a seat on the couch. “I told everyone that you were.”

“Thanks, Connie,” you say. “How do you know everyone?”

Sasha hands Connie the rolled spliff. He digs into the pocket of his jeans to light the end.

“Would you like a hit?” he asks. You let him know you’ll take one later, and he explains that he and Sasha have been friends since high school and that when she started dating Niccolo, he and Onyankopon needed a drummer for their band.

“We mainly play at bars for now,” Onyankopon supplies.

Connie nods after he takes a long pull. “Most of us work during the day so it works out best for us.”

“You ever date a musician before?” Sasha pipes up.

You look to Connie with a grin. “Never have.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky to have matched with Connie,” Niccolo laughs.

“I think so too,” you confirm, admiring Connie’s features. While not a typical date, you’re fine with the laid-back environment.

“Drummers are the best kinds to date.” Connie throws in. “We have the most energy, on and off the stage.” His brows wiggle.

The chemistry is so natural, it flows between you both.

“I want to witness more of the off-stage energy.”

Connie bites his lip, scooting closer.

Your knees bump. Connie stretches an arm, lacking any subtlety, a gesture ripped from a teen movie. He feigns a yawn, hand coming around, stopping short above your breast.

Without preamble, your hand slides into his thigh.

Connie stiffens, coughing up smoke into his elbow. The whole room watches him with amusement, and you snatch up the spliff to take a long pull.

“You good there, Connie?” you ask, innocuous, letting the smoke escape your lips in a stream.

Connie clears his throat. “Uh huh.”

Tilting your head, you give him a playful look. “You sure?”

“He’s got an erection,” Niccolo points out with a snort.

The others exchange humored looks but don’t tease poor Connie further.

You, on the other hand can’t help yourself, bringing the end of the spliff to Connie’s lips.

For a moment, he’s taken aback, still distracted with the frustration between his legs. When he notices you’ve leaned closer, he bites the end of the spliff, taking a drag, eyes glued to yours. You both smile, reading the others’ mind, inching closer together. You open your mouth to meet his, accepting the stream of smoke and the slide of Connie’s tongue.

It's soft, something you didn’t expect. For a moment, you’re lost in the feel of his lips, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, sampling each other’s taste. Your hand sinks deeper between his legs, brushing against a bulge tightening underneath his jeans the same time fingers trail downwards, ghosting your breast.

Someone clears their throat.

You and Connie freeze, open mouths awkwardly hovering each other’s, both turning.

Niccolò and Onyankopon share knowing looks, and it’s the former who shakes his head at Connie.

Connie pulls away suddenly, releasing a relaxed laugh. “Oh, um…” He reaches for your hand on his lap. “I…I wanted to show you something…”

Along with Niccolò and Onyankopon, you stifle your laughter at Connie’s attempt at being slick. But you humor him anyways.

“Oh, uh huh?”

Connie nods, getting to his feet, a grin splitting his mouth. “Yeah…it’s upstairs.” He tugs your hand.

This time you can’t hold back your amusement. “Okay, show me what it is upstairs.”

Connie’s smile broadens, squeezing your hand that your pulse hitches. He drags you off.

“Connie—please don’t make a mess—”

You hear Niccolo’s voice ring out, but there’s a tone of defeat there, and you throw a brief look over your shoulder as an apology ahead of time.

Upstairs, it’s quiet, not a soul around. Connie rushes towards the nearest door by the second-floor landing and enters like it’s somewhere he’s been many times before.

The door clicks shut, you and Connie are on each other, lips and teeth clashing, roaming hands like teenagers.

Clothes fall away in a tornado. Moans echo between breathless kisses.

Connie reels back first, hands on your shoulders. His gaze drags up and down your nude body.

“Shit.” He nods again more eagerly. “You’re really something. Fucking smoke show.”

You had taken the chance to admire his body as well. Strong, lean arms, muscles flexing with every movement, and you’re finally graced with a look of his mysterious tattoos on his arm.

They vary in size, but nothing too big. A magic eight-ball, a cassette tape, some odd, geometric shape, spaced around his shoulder. A spade, a melting ice cream cone, a drum—Hello Kitty...littered along his bicep.

Trailing your hands along it, you tilt your head, curious. “What’s the story behind this one?”

Connie hitches a laugh. “No real story just got it after a gig one night. Tattoo artist said she’d do it for free if I let her pick. Most of these I got at random.”

On his forearm, there’s a larger tattoo of a bull, detailed with a backdrop of a crescent moon and toadstools. “A bull?”

Connie hums. “Yeah, I’m a Taurus, and I like that zodiac stuff. Plus, I’m strong like a bull.” On cue, he flexes his forearm, and you feel the muscle tighten at your fingertips.

“I like it.” Your eyes drift from his arm to the rest of his body. A lean torso, rising and falling with quick breaths, a toned stomach that plunges into a deep V, his dick swings, happy, erect, and inviting.

You reach for it.

Connie bristles at the contact, grinning as you stroke the shaft. Together you watch his dick twitch as you brush the tip with your thumb.

“Ooohh, that’s the spot…” He shivers. “You’re gonna make me go apeshit before I get a chance to fuck you, huh?” Peering up, he wiggles his eyebrows, and you snort.

He’s so lighthearted, it’s refreshing. Of course, you don’t mind seduction, the mind fuck, or even shameless vulgarity. But sex should be fun too. Connie’s just eager to get laid, and you can’t fault him for being open and honest about that.

He steps closer, chasing after your touch for more stimulation. “Keep going. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for your pussy—respectfully.” He adds the last part with a grin.

And you continue to stroke him, hand moving in stride as he approaches you, taking your face in his hands.

Leaning his head down, he whispers into your lips. “You know how to make a guy feel…”

His tongue slides past, moving along yours in an uneven rhythm. You both laugh, trying again, but it remains sloppy and frivolous that you don’t complain.

He makes light of it with his everlasting humor. “Making out with someone new can be a little trial and error, but we improvise…” He groans again, lifting his chin, head thrown back.

You’ve picked up the pace, thumbing the tip of his dick with more pressure, precum dribbles into your fist. “Does this feel nice, Connie?”

“Real nice…your hand is so soft…”

You stroke him for another minute, exchanging more heated kisses. His hands travel to your chest, palming your breasts, and swirling his thumbs around your nipples.

You whimper, sensitive to the touch, inhaling Connie’s chuckle.

“Someone likes it when I do this, eh?” His thumbs move faster, orbiting your nipples. He pinches one, pleasure radiating to your center.

“Connie…”

He pulls away, taking your wrist to stop you. Most of the color in his eyes have been swallowed by his pupils. “I want to try something. Alright with you if we experiment?”

Your brows furrow. With the warm throb between your legs, however, you nod.

Connie’s smile brightens like a Christmas tree. With your wrist in his hand, he leads you to the bed.

You settle your knees onto the mattress, inwardly apologizing to Niccolo for what you and Connie are about to do.

Before he joins you on the bed, Connie’s eyes go blank. He spins around, crouching to fish through his discarded jeans. He pulls out a condom.

“Safety first. But if you want to raw-dog it…”

You smile, shaking your head. “Safety first.”

Connie’s quick with the condom, rolling it down his shaft and hopping on the bed, rolling back on his haunches. “Okay, this position I want to try out is a little unorthodox.”

You frown. “Go on…”

Connie falls back, catching himself on his elbows. He gestures you to come closer. “Now first, lay on top of me, on your back.”

Sliding over, your legs crawl atop his, your center dampening as you nudge his dick. Head nestled below his chin, you crane a look up. “Okay…”

“This is the unorthodox part.” Connie’s hands roam to your side, lifting you up. “I want you to hold yourself up on your arms with your back arched, kind of like you’re draping over me.”

You lift off his chest, but pause, trying to grasp what he wants you to do. Arched back? Draped? An image pops into your brain and you lift your body off Connie’s, arms rooting on either side of him. You bow your back in a backwards arch, head hanging.

“Like this?” You strain to say, arms trembling. He’s right this is an unorthodox position.

“Just like that. Now…I’m going to fuck into you this way. Okay?”

“Uh…okay.”

The bedsheets rustle beneath you, fingers tickling your sides, you almost fall.

“Whoa, I got you.” Connie’s hands stabilize you. “Alright. You look fucking great like this by the way.”

The drag of his dick along your pussy catches you off guard. You flinch a little, hips bucking up.

“Baby don’t run from it.” Connie’s whine softens with laughter. “It just needs a special kind of hug…” A nudge punctuates along your folds.

You smile up at the ceiling, steadying your legs to give Connie better access. “Right, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Connie lines up again, hands grasping onto your ribcage. “It’ll feel good, scout’s honor!”

His dick rubs along your pussy, gathering the slick drooling down your thighs. He grunts beneath you, the tip of his dick twitches, and you know he can’t stave off for much longer. To be fair, neither can you, not in the position he has you in.

Connie manages to hold you up without so much strain, you’re unable to hold back your surprise. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had the strength of a bull.

“You’re really strong.”

You catch the hearty, earnest laugh behind you, shivering from the tip of his dick lining up with your entrance.

“Thanks! If you’re impressed with that, baby, you’ll love my stamina. You ready?”

Although your head hangs backwards, you manage a meager nod. “Uh huh.”

Connie lifts his hips up, pushing into your pussy in a slow, deep stroke.

It’s an odd feeling, like you’ve gotten impaled, but you like it… And because you can’t watch his dick go in, you focus on the sensation of being filled. He pulls out and repeats the action, a gradual build for you to acclimate to this position.

“What do you think of that, eh?”

Eyes trained on the ceiling, you wish you could get a better look at Connie’s face, laughing at the humor in his voice, his playful spunk turning you on more than you imagined it would.

“It’s a new angle for me, Connie,” you grunt when he thrusts deeper. “Time to show off that stamina.”

Hands dig into the arch of your back to keep you steady. “Say less, beautiful!”

He thrusts up, hips smacking against your ass.

You feel him deeper, fucking into you with stride, projecting a low moan to fall with your head thrown back. Blood rushes to your head, but you don’t notice the discomfort, pussy throbbing, fluttering around Connie’s dick.

“Shiiiiiiiit—you feel fucking—wonderful—” Connie grunts between each snap of his hips. “So warm—so tight—”

His hips clap against your ass, bouncing off the walls. You arch your back further, adjusting your position a bit to lower yourself to Connie’s cock without seating on him entirely.

“Ooooooh! Even better!” Connie rasps, picking up the pace.

His grip tightens at your sides with bruising pressure, but you don’t mind it, relishing in the way his cock drives deeper into you; the tip prodding the spongy spot inside.

You shut your eyes, only aware of the way Connie fucks into you over and over again, sparks of pleasure burning warmer with each thrust.

“Fuck…Connie…” Your moan is heavy with passion. Goosebumps prick your scorching skin as you feel your body foreshadowing your release.

“Ha—I’m loving this too, baby.”

Your thighs spread apart, wanting to pull him in more if it’s possible. Oh! From the way your pussy flutters around Connie’s dick, it’s very possible.

You wonder if you look as sexy as you feel. Hardened nipples facing the ceiling, back bowed in a deep arch, flexing the column of your throat, every gasp falling out like a waterfall. It’s amazing what shapes the body can take, enticing to know the various positions that offer pleasure.

Connie makes good on that stamina. The momentum builds and you want it to last for as long as possible, despite the dizziness in your head. For a while, you don’t notice anything except Connie fucking into you, the fullness of his length stretching you out. Every muscle in your body works to keep you steady, but you tend to skip arm day at the gym, therefore you’re not that strong. Your arms tremble. You claw at the sheets to help anchor you in place.

“Feeling sore?” Connie rasps.

“A little, my arms are getting tired.”

Connie offers you a solution. “It’s okay, let yourself fall to my chest—I’ll take care of the rest.” He continues to fuck you while you decide.

“Ah—are you—sure?” Words strain in your throat.

“Yeah, yeah,” he breathes. “Lay on my chest, I got you, it’ll feel just as good.”

You don’t hesitate, one wobbly arm after the other, your back lands on Connie’s chest, resting your head on his shoulder. Your muscles go lax in relief.

Connie kisses your sweaty temple, snaking his arms around you. He lines his dick against your folds again, pushing back inside in a deep thrust.

Connie gropes your breast, thumb swiping against the hardened nipple.

You inhale, chest ballooning.

The stimulation does not end there. Connie’s other hand finds your apex, the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit as he fucks into you.

“See, told you I’d take care of the rest,” Connie breathes into your hairline, voice ragged.

“Connie…don’t stop.” You wrap your hand around his, urging him to rub your clit faster.

He gets the hint, and your climax is close, so close, you grab onto Connie’s arm at your chest, driving your nails into his skin.

Laughter rumbles in Connie’s chest. “Someone’s almost there, huh? Fuck—me too.” His hips snap up, desperate.

“Connie—I’m gonna—” You throw your head back, cutting yourself short, pulsing and cumming on Connie’s cock.

“Shit, that was fucking hot.” Connie hugs you to his chest, fucking into you with more purpose. “I’m about to nut—your pussy feels so fucking good.”

His sloppy rhythm becomes pointed with quick, sharp bucks of his hips. You hear the deep moan pouring out of his mouth, he lifts your bodies off the mattress, wanting to reach the heavens as he orgasms.

The room falls quiet, save for the heavy breathing against your ear. Connie’s dick stutters inside of you and you both stay like that for a moment. Your back glued to his sticky chest, ass and pussy held in the air by Connie’s hips.

When his cock softens, he slips out, a pair of hips collapses onto poor Niccolò’s bed.

Connie blows out a sigh, warm breath fanning your hair. “Shit…oh shit…” He swallows, rubbing his hands along your arms lazily. “That was hella fun. What’d you think, beautiful? If you liked that, I have another position we can try out.”

You heave a tired laugh, but you’re not against the idea. Maybe another time.

☻ masterpost☻

taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #connie springer x reader #connie smut #connie springer smut #connie springer x you #dtf only series #mochi-writings

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icequeenbae · 3 months

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Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki’s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 22 days

Note

AITA for not supporting my friend’s relationship?

(@aita mod I pinky promise that this is not an “aita for thinking/feeling something” submission, I’m just a long winded mf)

Okay this is admittedly stupid stupid dumb but it’s bothering the hell out of me so here we go. I (26X) have a friend (23NB) who recently got into a nice, stable(?) relationship after a string of messy short-term ones. They’ve been dating for ~2 months now, and the guy (early 30s?M) seems really nice and genuine. My friend is very happy and gushes about him constantly, which makes sense because the relationship is fairly new and their most recent previous relationships were with people who weren’t very open or communicative at all. I feel like the only valid reason I could possibly have to not like this dude is the age gap, which is more of a personal ick as I’m not really comfortable with dating anyone more than 5 years older/younger than me. They’re both adults and it’s their love life, so whatever.

The thing is, I just…do not share their enthusiasm for this guy. At all. He seems like a cool guy, but the fact that he’s dating my friend just isn’t jiving in my brain for whatever reason. I’m getting an inexplicable weird vibe. When I see a picture of them doing cute couple shit on instagram or wherever, my reaction isn’t “that’s adorable, I’m so happy for [friendname]!” or even “I’m glad they’re happy!” It’s more like “eugh, why are they doing that? I don’t want to see this.” This isn’t a normal reaction for me at all. I’m usually very supportive of my friends’ relationships as long as there are no obvious red flags. The only reason I can think of as to why I might be reacting this way is that an acquaintance of mine was pushing me to get with this same guy a couple years ago for NO REASON, and I was absolutely not interested, so it might be leftover discomfort from that. I don’t (consciously?) hold that against him though, that was 100% my acquaintance’s strange bullshit. I’m mostly into women and fem dudes, so there’s no latent attraction to my (masc leaning) friend or their bf involved either.

Here’s the part where I might be the asshole: because of my weird uncomfortable reaction to seeing this dude and my friend together, I haven’t been liking or commenting on posts/messages/etc about them being together or how wonderful this guy is. Social media interaction/validation is a big thing for them, and eventually they noticed that I wasn’t interacting with anything pertaining to their relationship. I don’t think I was obvious about it or anything, just operating on the “if you don’t have anything nice to say…” principle. Regardless, they asked me about it, and I went completely deer-in-the-headlights. I ended up saying something like “I just didn’t have anything to say about those posts, it’s not really my business” but I could tell they weren’t convinced. They asked me what I thought of the guy and I told them he seemed nice but I didn’t know him that well. I think that just made them more suspicious because I’ve been working for the same company as the guy for about 3 years now, but it is technically true. After my first few months I got transferred to a different department and haven’t seen him since.

They looked really disappointed and asked me if I could try to be a little more supportive of their relationship online, reminding me that this is “the first nice person [they’ve] dated in years” and that they “went through hell to find him.” (I think they were referring to their most recent breakups and exaggerating hardcore. They were messy, but I’ve heard every little detail about those relationships from them and they sounded like they ended due to plain old incompatibility/lack of interest. I would only call one of their recent exes “not a nice person.”) They ended the conversation by telling me that they trusted me and my approval was really important to them, which made me feel like shit, but it didn’t really make me see the relationship in a different light or anything. l definitely FEEL like an asshole, because even after they talked to me about it I have no plans to lie and act super into their boyfriend when I’m not. I realize how petty all of this sounds, but it’s obviously affecting my friend a lot, or else they wouldn’t have spoken to me about it in person. It just feels like I’d be an even worse friend if I started regularly lying to them about what I think of their relationship, even though I don’t have a valid reason for feeling the way I do. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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pumpkin-patch-cat · 4 months

Text

New Job, Who Dis?!

(Grim x Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings:(DLC ending spoilers. Suggestive themes)

Grim is now living rent free in my brain.

After completing the DLC ending of A Date with Death, I have decided it is my favorite ending and conjured up a little dialog. This oneshot hints to the endings outcome, so spoiler warning ⚠️. This was written quickly, so pardon any grammatical errors! Enjoy!

“Hold up, start from the top. What's my job description again?”

“Your job will be to give life back to those who aren't supposed to die. Sometimes, innocent people are caught up in things where losing their life was NOT part of the original plan. Because your soul harbors the essence of life itself, with you at my side, you'll be able to attempt to save those people who are at the presepist of dying too early.”

“Attempt?” You eye him quizzically from your place at your desk. Casper is sat at the foot of your bed, long legs outstretched, hands in his lap. He nods and continues.

“Basically, when a mortal is on the verge of death, their soul has become tainted with what we call a ‘blight’ or ‘blight of death’. Similar to ‘the taint’ for reapers, though much much harder to bounce back from when the soul or a mortals very existence is overtaken or ‘infected’ if you will. Some people can bounce back on their own, while others succumb and meet their unfortunate end. I say attempt because sometimes a mortal is beyond cleansing. The blight is too far gone, and no amount of divine intervention will save their existence....so naturally, when we, no, you receive cases like this, time is of the essence.

“I see...wow, that's heavy. No pressure or anything. Sheesh.”

“Yes. The job will be difficult at times. Y/n, there will be times when a person will be beyond help. You'll want to save them desperately. Times where no matter how much effort is placed into saving them, it may not work, and you will be angry. I can't tell you how many times I've witnessed an innocent person parish entirely too early at the hands of a twisted version of fate. Those moments are out of my hands, and I have to ferry them away regardless. But that's where you'll come in.”

“Sooo I'm basically an angel??”

“No, they're grotesque creatures. They instill fear in humans and sugar coat their acts with pretty words. You'll actually give hope. Plus, you're much prettier than they are. Who really needs that many eyes and wings, honestly??? But anyways…”

You fall silent in deep thought.

“Y/n? Why are you screwing up your face like that?”

“Can I really do this, Casper? What if I mess up??”

“My sweetest, little nightmare. I'll be there with you every step of the way.” Casper smiles reassuringly.

“Thank God. OH! Do I get a cool ass scythe of my own, too?” You perk up almost immediately, wistfully looking at his impressive weapon that is currently leaning against your wall nearest the door.

“I...I'll never get used to the way you can flip subjects so easily. But yes, I guess. Once you're settled, we will get you fitted with a 'cool ass scythe'. Or at least a decent weapon you'll use to channel your soul energy. I know a guy.”

“You know a guy? That doesn't sound shady at all, but fuck yea!”

He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm.

“I'm glad you're okay with this decision. I really couldn't think of a better way for this to work out for both of us but-”

“But you have a big, sexy brain that was able to figure it out, now you're stuck with me foreeevvver.” You beam, triumphantly.

“I suppose I am, and quite frankly, I would have it no other way.” With a smile on his face, Casper stands, reaches for your hands, and pulls you to your feet.

“Awww, little reaper. Since when did you get so mushy? It makes me want to violate yo- I mean...I could really go for some food right about now. Yea, food. That's what I meant."

“...You really are something else. We will grab something on the way to my place.”

“Bet. Finally making good on us moving in together?”

“Obviously. I can't escape you.”

“It was inevitable, Casper”

“Seems so…and by the way…”

Casper slips his arm around your waist gently, leaning into your ear.

“I'll take you up on that offer of 'violating' me later, my little nightmare.”

“You just want to be stepped on.”

“S-stepped on? What..uh...I”

“The blush on your cheeks says you do. Can't take it back now. Your fate is sealed. I hope you're ready.” you wink.

“Haaa....fuck.”

#help I love him #ahhhh #a date with death #grim reaper #grim #grimmy #oneshot #casper #grim x reader #writing

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

Text

Shadows Entwined: Part 2

BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader

Part 1 / Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)

In which both Leo and reader get grilled by their families, because of the "pretty eyes".

Warnings: Spelling, loong.

The reader and the turtles are 19.

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

“They call him… The Batman”, Donnie said, reading from his computer screen, causing Leo to break from his starting contest with the wall. He didn’t even remember how he got to staring at the wall. He remembers returning to the abandoned cafe with his brothers, after their meeting with this, Batman and… her. She had said his eyes were pretty. No way she actually meant it. Not with eyes like hers. They were… Leo did not know how to describe them… deep? Colorful? Lively? Filled with emotion-, oh this is how he ended up zoning out in the first place.

Leo was once again pulled out of his thoughts, as Raph started yelling about how stupid it was to use half an hour to google something he could have guessed in seconds.

“I’ve read rumors about a supernatural bat creature in Gotham, but I assumed that he was an urban legend, or that he was a mutant like us”, Donnie said deeply fascinated.

“That guy was definitely human”, Leo finally spoke. “And I think his super natural powers are just his gadgets. Anything about the girl?” Leo could see Raph facepalm out of the corner of his eye.

“Nothing”, Donnie said. “Only stuff about this Batman, or whatever he is”. Why did that pull down on Leo’s mood? No information about her at all?

“We already know what he is!” Mikey was practically dancing at the whiteboard. “He’s awesome!... Unless he’s a bad guy… That would make him… 40% less awesome”. Leo could already tell by the look on Raph’s face that he wanted to punch their little brother all the way back to New York.

“No one knows his motives, but it does appear that he only attacks criminals”, Donnie continued. “Especially this clown guy”.

“So he wears a Dracula costume and punches clowns. Who cares?!”, yelled Raph. “The dirtbag stole my sai!”

“Dracula costume? What kind of Dracula movies have you been watching?”, Donnie muttered.

“Is that why that girl hang around him?!”, Mikey yelled from his whiteboard, jumping with the same enthusiasm he had shown ever since they arrived in Gotham. “He has bitten her and now she is under his control? This city just gets better and better!”

“I don’t think so Mikey. She did say Leo had pretty eyes”, Donnie said. “Hypothetically, I don’t think a human under vampire control would say that. I actually don’t even think vampires in fiction can control people like that…”

Leo already hated this conversation.

“Look all I’m saying is Shredder stole the ooz from TCRI and came to Gotham, we know he’s been working with a new partner, right? It’s gotta be this bat creep and that Leo loving sidekick he has around”, Raph said, exasperated.

Leo remained unmoving with his arms crossed, but the mentioning of the girl made something move in his stomach.

“I’m not so sure”, Leo said. “The way they fought, avoiding lethal blows. They wanted to figure us out. Like a detective".

“She wanted to figure you out”, Raph mumbled, just loud enough for Leo to hear it. Leo would have spoken up, and Mikey not done it first.

“Okay bros. I broke it down”, he said, pointing to his drawings on the whiteboard. “Awesome: Little bat throwing things, cool car, sweet hat, Leo’s first girlfriend. Not awesome: Kicked our butts, may be evil, mean voice, Leo’s first heartbreak”.

“Either way”, Leo broke in, before giving his brothers any chance to add on to Mikey’s whiteboard Batman and sidekick breakdown. “After Wayne Enterprises, we have no idea where the Foot will be next. The Batman is our only lead”.

Donnie nodded. “Whether friend or foe, he and his sidekick was at the scene of the crime. And if you give me a minute, I think I’ve gotten an idea”.

---

“I was right outside!” you yelled like a spoiled child, waving your arms in the air, while Batman carefully looked at the magnifying glass in front of him, a sample he had taken from the sai laying in the little glass tray. “I did nothing but watch those metahumans kick Penguin’s butt! I could have helped you!”

“I did not need help”, Batman said, stoic as he always was when wearing that mask. “I had it under control”.

“That blood in your mouth said otherwise”, you sighed leaning against the deck next to you. This man was stubborn and you knew it. It was no use fighting him on his opinions, as it would be a losing battle for anyone except him.

You heard the familiar sound of a grappling against metal, and saw as Batgirl made her way out of the air vent.

“Heard on the scanner that the police took in some of Penguin’s men. Said they were jumped by four crazy frogs. I assume those were my lizard guys”, she said.

“Your lizard guys are strange”, you told Batgirl.

“They are turtles”, Batman said, pressing keys on the computer keyboard. “And the DNA on this weapon suggests they were mutated by an outside agent”.

“Mutant ninja turtles”. You raised a brow. “And me who thought Gotham couldn’t get any stranger”.

“The technology the ninjas have already stolen could be used to refine a mutagen like that”, Batgirl noted. “But why?”

“The cloud-seeder is the last piece of the puzzle. Which is why I had to move it to a secure location outside of Gotham”.

“I really wished you guys brought me in on this!”, Batgirl said. “I mean I saw the monsters first. It’s my case”.

“And pass up the opportunity to watch them swordfight Penguin later in the future? No way! I had front seat tickets!”

“There were too many unknowns. You could have gotten hurt. Both of you”. Batman turned his attention towards you. “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)”.

“What do you mean? I was beating that blue one pretty good”.

“Yet you didn’t notice the red one almost tapped you from the back”.

You felt a movement in your stomach and cold run down your back, yet your face started to feel hot. You did not notice at all. When would that have happened?... How long did you look into those blue eyes? Did the red one see an opening, only for Batman to save you, while you were being engulfed in a mutant turtle’s eyes, not noticing the world around you?

“N- no, I didn’t”.

“No, and you’ll have to work on that before I start calling you for backup”. Feedback from Batman always sounded harsh. And it did make you feel self conscious. But when it came to fighting alongside Batman, it was a matter of life and death. “In the meantime”, Batman continued, before you could dig too deep into your own feelings. “I’ll need to start working on a way to counteract the mutagen”. Batman stood for a moment. “And for that I could use both of your help”.

You could feel a big smile form on your face as Batgirl thanked the man you saw as your father figure. It wasn’t often that he actually asked for your help, or any help at all, making this a rare occasion, forever saved in your memory.

“All though”, Batgirl said as Batman looked closer at the sai he had gotten from the red turtle. “If those creatures left the Penguin's men tied up for the police, maybe I was wrong about them”.

“Maybe”, was all Batman had to say about that.

The drive back to the Batcave from Wayne Enterprise was silent. With you and Batgirl squished together in one seat, while Batman was driving the Batmobile. The silence that was so common when it came to Batman. It was a far cry from the Bruce Wayne that had taken you in as his own daughter. I was as if the moment he took the mask on, he became a different person. Not less loving than the Bruce Wayne you had given the title father, but less expressive and harder to read.

“Pretty eyes?”, Batman said, finally breaking the silence. Batgirl looked at you in confusion.

“It caught him off guard didn’t it? I’ll say it worked”, you said, playing with a smile on your lips. The bat stayed silent. You knew that silence. It was not an approving silence. You tried playing it off, talking about something else. “Did you notice how easily excited the orange one got? And how mad that red one was? They kind of remind me of Robin-”.

“Your brother is not comparable to a bunch of ninja turtles”.

“Well you might think that”, you mumbled, thinking of your pestilence of an adopted brother, that often caused chaos in your daily life, by sneaking around Wayne Manor. “He does look a little like them”.

Batgirl turned to Batman. “Care to explain?”

Batman sighed. “(H/N) and the blue mutant had a moment where she told him he had pretty eyes”.

“A moment?”, Batgirl asked, slightly shocked.

“A stare down”, you said, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

“A moment”, Batman corrected. “Even his attacks became softer after she told him”.

“No they didn’t!”

“They did. And so did yours”.

With your cheeks on fire, you crossed your arms and leaned back into the seat you shared with Batgirl. The amused smile she was trying to hide, made you wish the Batmobile would swallow you on the spot.

Why did that damn turtle have to have such pretty eyes?

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kanatamour · 4 months

Text

A SIGN OF AFFECTION.

Because even if silence would rule her life without her aid, he fills it with sunshine and smiles.

ft. Yatonokami Kanata, Hajun Yeon, Ando Shiki, Kanbayashi Yokei x fem! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, very, very, mild angst.

Hello nonnie ! I’m so sorry this took so long to post… I know you requested it on my old blog, thank you for liking my aesthetic there <3 It’s late, but merry christmas to you as well, I hope this new year brings you lots of love, health and joy !

ଓ YATONOKAMI KANATA

— At first, he’s a little surprised.

— Why is it that your little sister stares up at him in wonder, of all people?

— She’s a lucky child, after all. She can live in a clean house and she has you as her older sister, so why does she seem so entranced by him?

— “This is my little sis, Kanata.” You introduce her, your hands on her shoulders. “She can’t hear by herself, but she uses these headphones, they’re magical, right little princess?” You tell your sister, bopping her nose.

— She giggles, while nodding enthusiastically.

— “Hmh! I can listen to my big sister’s boyfriend with these! Kanata’s music is the best!” She claims, happily.

— Your lover’s lavender gaze widens when he hears that.

— That exact phrase is what Nayuta always told him.

— A chuckle leaves his lips, as he pats the girl’s head (even if a little awkwardly).

— “So you like Cozmez that much?” Kanata asks your sister.

— She takes a few seconds to answer, the sound processing for her in her headset.

— “Mhm! Cozmez is the coolest! Kanata and Nayuta are the best! Also, is it true you can breakdance, onii-chan?”

— At that, Kanata blushes. Both at the question and at the term she used to refer to him.

— “I-uh… yeah.” He finally manages.

— You chuckle, taking your sister by the hand.

— “Hey, hey, Kanata is a little shy, alright, sweetheart? Give him a little time to warm up.” You explain.

— She nods, while your boyfriend’s blush intensifies. You’re so precious taking care of your sister, he almost can’t handle it. If you keep this up, he feels like his heart will burst with so much cuteness.

— From that day on, your younger sister starts wanting to hang out with you and Kanata every time you meet up with him.

— And so, your dates end up involving her in one way or another.

— Listening to Cozmez at Kanata’s apartment as she tries to dance to the beat of the songs; taking her to eat ice cream, ramen or cake at cute cafes; petting the neighborhood cats, or reading books to her.

— And to your boyfriend, these moments are worth so much.

— Taking care of her together, with her giggles and your soft laughter filling the air… It feels as if finally beams of rainbow are added into the sunshine you shed into his life.

— Kanata is also very protective of her.

— Because she thinks he’s so cool, your sister tends to follow Kanata around.

— And we all know how dangerous it can be for a little girl like her to wander alone around the slums.

— So your partner always makes sure to spot her right away, taking her by the hand and bringing her back home.

— She is safe, but she doesn’t escape your scolding, even if she hides behind Kanata.

ଓ HAJUN YEON

— Charms your little sister almost instantly.

— With his good looks and permanent smile, who could resist him, huh? (That is, before you know about his sadistic side /lh).

— “Big sister! You’re dating a prince!” She says, eyes sparkly and wide, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

— You and Hajun let out a laugh, amused at her innocent enthusiasm.

— “Does that mean you’re a princess, onee-san?” Your baby sister inquires. “And does that make me one too?”

— You give her a bright smile.

— “Of course you are a princess too, baby.” You say. “You have this magical crown that allows you to hear, do you not, sweetie? I think a fairy must be guarding you too.”

— Your boyfriend smiles. Not his usual fabricated grins, but a sincere one this time.

— “Your sister is right, young lady.” He adds, taking the girl’s hand in his. “You two are princesses, so it is my honor to finally meet my lover’s precious sister.”

— “Woah… You’re really a prince!” The girl in question cheers, enchanted by him and all the attention she’s getting.

— Thanks to her headphones, your sister can hear BAE’s songs, and of course, her bias is Hajun (she adores the whole trio though).

— Anne is like an older sibling to her as well, and Allen is like… uh, the silly uncle that’s really cool when singing.

— Whenever you and Hajun go out together on a date, your sister stays with the other two.

— Anne does her hair and dresses her up, while Allen plays music for her and they all dance together.

— It’s really precious, going back to Hajun’s apartment and finding laughter filling the space and the people you love having such a good time.

— However, because she’s enchanted with your lover, your sister has taken to following Hajun around sometimes.

— She peeks from behind the kitchen’s door, observing attentively while he cooks.

— “Hmm… I have the feeling someone’s watching…” Hajun announces, the little one’s giggles perfectly audible. “I wonder whether this princess would like to help me make dinner?”

— To what she emerges from her hiding spot, running to bury her face into Hajun’s apron.

— Unbeknownst to them, you were watching the scene with a dopey smile on your face.

— You go to wash your hands. You’ll join them in a minute.

ଓ ANDO SHIKI

— Now if someone is shocked to be thought of as cool, that is definitely Shiki.

— He’s been called gloomy before, and he doesn’t really have a very positive opinion about himself.

— So for your sister to admire him and look at him in wonder… That is certainly a new feeling.

— And at first, he can’t deny he’s scared. Because what if, once she gets to know him, she finds out he’s uncool or boring?

— Besides, someone whose hands are stained in blood due to the sin he’ll never forgive himself for… He doesn’t deserve that kindness.

— So at first, he runs away from this, like he’s been doing his whole life.

— You miss him.

— And your sister notices your boyfriend seems to avoid her, so she gets sad.

— “Is it because I need special headphones to hear?” She asks you one day, eyes teary. “Is that because Shiki can never meet with you, big sis?”

— “No, no, it’s nothing like that.” You hold her in your arms. “Shiki is very shy, so he has trouble making new friends, but I’m sure he'll be happy to meet you, once he calms down. He gets nervous easily, you know? Give him a little bit more time.” You tell your younger sister, squatting to be eye level with her, as you wrap her in a hug.

— “Tell you what, why don’t we drop by Shiki’s workplace while he’s there? I’ll introduce you. You’re a fan of his group, after all.”

— And so, that’s exactly what you do.

— You are aware a bar is not the most suitable place for a kid, but you trust all the guys there. They take good care of Shiki, after all.

— The little girl hides behind you as you greet everyone. And, somehow, Ryuu’s the one to bring her out of her shell.

— “Wow wow! You have very cool headphones! Ryuu wants a pair too! Aaw mini [Y/n]-chan is so cute!”

— “I use these to hear!” She giggles at the funny faces TCW’s peculiar member makes. “I love The Cat’s Whiskers! Shiki is my favorite!” She says, waving her hands.

— Your partner lets out a strangled yelp, almost dropping a glass he was drying.

— “Come on, Shiki.” You invite him, softly, with a tender smile on your face. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you, you know.”

— “H-hello, there.” He greets her, awkwardly rising a hand for her to high five.

— She does so, with a “Yay! I’m a fan of Shiki!”

— The latter lets out a laugh; a precious sound few got to hear, the rays towards which sunflowers turn.

— Maybe it was alright, that she thinks he’s worth meeting.

ଓ KANBAYASHI YOHEI

— Flustered at first, but then he softens up and is actually one of the most caring.

— Your sister is a little shy around him at first, despite her admiration for him.

— She’s seen him on tv, and, thanks to her prescription headphones, she’s heard his vocals on stage. She really thinks he’s so cool… But Yohei looks so serious…

— “Onee-san, is your boyfriend angry?” She asks, tugging on your clothes.

— “Wha-“ Bar 7/4’s master utters, amber eyes widening in shock.

— Saimon lets out a chuckle from behind the counter.

“Yohei, I think you should drop that frown a little.” He tells his junior, good naturedly.

— The latter sighs.

— “Hello there, little one.” Your lover greets the girl, as he crouches down to her level. “Would you like to listen to some music?”

— She nods vigorously, her small fists clenched in front of her in anticipation.

— Yohei rewards her with a smile. Then he sits at the bar’s piano.

— As his deft fingers slide over the keys, a sweet melody fills the space, your sister holding her breath as she listens intently.

— Then, she walks towards the piano, watching closer how this mesmerizing melody is brought to life.

— Your partner stops playing momentarily, offering her a kind smile.

— “You want to try too?” He asks her.

— “Yes!” She affirms, as her little hands hover over the keys.

— The bar’s master helps her sit on the bench, as he gently places her fingers over the keys.

— “Here, don’t be afraid. Try here, press it softly. Yes, that’s good!” He compliments her, as a note echoes through the room.

— As you watch the scene, you can imagine the three of you in a spacious apartment, sitting in front of a piano; sunlight streams through the windows, almost like lines of a music score you’re writing in this idyllic moment.

— Despite the cold, the warmth of your lover and your sister by your side keeps you comforted, the sunny melody, a caress for your heart.

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ms-scarletwings · 6 months

Text

On Defective Irkens

“It is theorized that Tak may also be an Irken defect because-“

“Say guys do you think Skoodge is defective? He did a thing he wasn’t told to do once do you suppose-“

“Service Drone Bob's contempt for the Tallest is extremely abnormal, even for most defective Irkens…”

“Hints of the comms officer being a defective are seen when-“

Ohhh mauling the fan wiki writers grr biting biting thrashing and then turning around to the rest of you before I’m done, you bet, for I have sat and listened for over 12 years of leaps and speculations of this sort and now I’m now one of the ones who gets to have what the cool kids these days call a hot take on the matter.

By the end of this I’M going to bring up and expose who I actually think may be the only other defective Irken(s) in the show besides Zim, whom I’m aghast I haven’t seen anyone suggest before.

But before anything else, I want to front one preassumption center and loud.

It took me a long time to guess at why very few people can ever seem to get on the same page of what it actually means to call an Irken defective. Implicitly, the bulk of what we are given is that something can be wrong with a member of this species, and Zim is our prime and singular clear example of that. So there’s a ton of trying to find patterns between Zim’s behavior and that of other Irken characters. Weirdly (to me), a lot of people have, in their efforts, chalked the status up to a sense of rebelliousness or insubordination- a defectiveness in the manner of D&D illithids, stomping out disloyal break-aways from the collective hive mind with punitive wrath. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a cool concept, and it’s definitely closer to my opinion at least than the comparisons to real life mental disorders or disabilities. Not knocking the comfort or the enthusiasm, obviously.

From my view of the canon, I hope it’s at least apparent to other fans that “defective” isn’t some empirical measurement or status to Irkens. Look at the way they determine the defects from normal society. IRL, if I have a faulty device on my hands, there’s some way out there to tell me in a clear cut fashion if there’s a problem and what exactly it is. If it’s code, it can be scanned and debugged. If it’s mechanical, something can be seen, fixed physically. Most organic health problems are only different in the complexity of the matter, but the entire purpose of medical research is to come close as we can to bridging that gap. In Irk’s people, that line is rapidly becoming one long smear of wet chalk. I’m going on like this because if defective paks were akin to hardware actually being damaged, as Purple had put it, it doesn’t make as much sense that they are neither “fixed” nor given real, concrete diagnostics. The only way we know of that the aliens are tested in a since on this merit is by existence evaluations. And existence evaluations are anything but empirical, impartial events. They’re worlds more political and cultural than clinical.

Digest the terms we keep seeing all around the concept: Innocent, justice, trial/evaluation, Judgementia, these are terms of judicial courts and moral weight and sentencing. In effective practice,

Irk labels defects by what one does, not by what one is.

Yet, defection is presented as if that’s not the case, and there are reasons for that. Reasons that reinforce the current power structures and promote what its leadership has decided is healthy for the broader society. When Zim was merely re-encoded from invader status to food service work, it was a more secluded evaluation, presumably done on Irk. His only seen witnesses then were the Tallests and the single control brain dishing the judgement. His existence evaluation, on the other hand, rings more similarly to the IRL historical practice of literal “show trials”. Show trials were something that existed way less for the actual crimes of the accused and so much more for their audience, which, show trials are always for an audience. Three main points about them off the Wikipedia cuff:

• Typically, the defendant of such has already been determined to be guilty (oftentimes of completely fabricated transgressions), and the trial serves mostly to make a massive public spectacle and warning of the accused.

• They tend to focus on retributive punishment over correction. The disproportional brutality and lack of mercy is often the point.

• Their goals are propagandistic in nature, and there’s many notable examples to be found in the history of Nazi Germany, the USSR, and in witch trials across the world (because it was never just Salem).

A formality? Well, that much they couldn’t have more brazenly admitted to. Retribution? There’s hardly a more absolute punitive sentence I could craft up over obliteration PLUS Damnatio Memoariae. And as for the degree of spectacle, I will let you make your own observation here.

Believe it or not, the part where my comparisons along this line end with Existence Evaluations is that their standard for taking place isn’t actually this cartoonishly oppressive one that some fans try to make it out to be. In “The Trial”, Zim was not having his data read for some binary is/is not determination… he was having his experiences and actions interpreted by how much damage he has done against the Armada. He said it himself, that hotseat is reserved for criminals. Likely outright traitors and maniacs. Those who have given cause to alert the brains to a genuine existential threat to their civilization and who have repeatedly failed every opportunity given to redeem themselves.

Defective doesn’t just mean “different” to Irk. We’ve hardly seen an exploration of what the median Irken example even is, because the more we see of any one of these characters, the more they show us their eccentric uniqueness and will. Yes, Irkens are authoritarian; yes they’re over-militarized; yes, they’re a supremacist breed aligned under one ruling military… but listen, they are not literally The Borg, or illithids.

The biggest victims of this government itself are those races it colonizes. Average civilians on the other hand, they get to largely enjoy all the vices and pains and indulgences of hyper-space-capitalism. The height-ocracy may limit their opportunities, but even the lowest drones among them are supposedly hired into their positions in return for wages. Irkens are pretty selfish, but in a rugged individualism sense. It’s a dystopia of atomization instead of collectivization. If everyone had agreed that “defective” had anything to do with arrogance, free will, or an ability to feel one’s sense of self worth, no one would ever be pointing to Skoodge as a possible example. That guy’s the poster boy for what it means to be a “tool” in the derogatory sense. I’m not forgetting that he technically never even left his job. He was fired and more or less forced into hiding, and he’s still not even that perturbed over the whole thing.

Moreover, it also takes some extreme acts of harm to justify such a trial. Real harm- not rebellious attitude or even disrespect to authority. The control brains and the tallests alone get to define that threshold, and neither Tak’s/Zim’s insubordination nor Bob’s audacity concerned them enough for a ticket to Judgementia. In fact, they really don’t seem that bothered at all by deserters and those that abandon their encoded function. Tak is likely to be merely the responsibility of her janitorial squadron, the same way that enforcing Zim’s banishment was the responsibility of his Frylord. Because Irk actually does have standards of justice and layers of bureaucracy to work within when it comes to dealing with true malice. Small fry problems are for the lower rungs of the ladder to handle, until they become a higher priority by necessity. Incompetency alone isn’t a crime, either. The go-to punishment for failure in one function is demotion to a lower position. These are the only Irkens formally not allowed to change jobs, making what they do a kind of communal service or forced labor sentencing. Remember how Tak’s motivation for leaving Dirt wasn’t solely dissatisfaction with the grunt labor? Remember how she kept justifying her actions by the logic of fairness and setting things right? Not to mention how she fully made the Tallest aware of what she was up to and how her plan was well crafted enough to probably work out exactly like she wanted. Tak is utterly as loyal to the empire and competent as any invader. She was genuinely just dealt a shitty hand, and her response to it is at least understandable.

She even went to great lengths to identify and specifically target Zim and to use a planet that otherwise had less than no value to the armada’s operations. She is a great foil to Zim, but I can’t see how she’s any bit defective, only full of rage that she was screwed over by the actions of a real disgrace to their species. Genuinely destructive cases like Zim are an incredible rarity. Such a rarity that I can only guess it took this long for him to go to Judgementia because his degree of dysfunction outright baffles the system. It also would appear that it’s an event of such significance that it can only be set into motion by the command of the ruling Tallest. By murdering a couple of them, and then being a clown show for a couple more, he inadvertently bought himself some time.

And the crazy thing to remember here is that Zim doesn’t even understand that his actions are an existential threat to the Empire- that he IS a whole supervillain to his planet. This is how effective Irken programming and the education plugs are. They’re supposed to do 99% of the work of setting up the population, even the lowest drones, for not turning out like traitors to their kin in the first place. ALL of them grew up on a steady diet of the same drip-fed propaganda and essentialist ideology as their most militant soldiers. So I can see the logic behind the conclusion that the only explanation for criminals in their society must be outright brain damage or corrupted data… and I’m not gonna lie I do openly headcanon that the latter case is exactly what happened to bad egg Zim.

The limits of only having the one example in him notwithstanding, I’m anything but against theorizing about who else could be “worthy” in the Irken sense to also stand before those brains, playing sweaty advocate for the worth of their continued existence and all. I just don’t see it in Bob, or the Comms officer, or any other invader. Tak, there may be some hypothetical ramp to that end, in her future, but as things are right now, I only see a candidate that has become comfortable right in the control brains’ biggest blind spot of all. See, eggs don’t always have to crack in order to go bad. Sometimes, maybe they just spoil. Sometimes, I believe just the right conditions and time can turn them downright rotten.

Dramatic musical flourish, please.

I forget whoever said the quote “Power doesn’t corrupt, It just exposes who people really are”, but I’m a huge fan of the fact that they did. In my opinion, it’s less about power itself and more about a complete lack of accountability that allows the weakest and most toxic seeds to really fester in a seat of authority. Indeed, we all know that there is something pathetic, and vapid, and cruel floating around The Massive’s bridge. I am saying I’d call Red defective, but I couldn’t be certain enough with myself to say that Purple’s largely the one carrying a lot of fault. His greatest sin is his negligence and enabling his companion. whoever we can say shoulders more of the blame, they have been running this horror show as a joint unit, so they will both bear the guilt. Without a doubt, these two are terrible- popular maybe, but terrible leaders. Like, more responsible for the near ruin of their home world and species than I can even pin on Zim at this point. By almost every measure once you hold them up to Miyuki’s and Spork’s barely few moments of would-be screen time, they’re the worst Tallests for the Empire we’ve ever known. It’s too bad that they have no one over them we know of to flag them for an existence evaluation, because I am assured that the real orchestrators of the Armada would be disgusted to look over their track records since they took power.

I mean, what can I remember just off the top of my head?

- Full awareness of Zim’s blackout-causing history before the beginning of Operation Impending Doom I and not keeping a close eye on him, removing him from his position, or keeping him away from the homeworld’s WoMDs

- Overseeing the shipment of faulty equipment to Invader Tenn (even if the packages had not been switched, the Megadoomer still had a potentially fatal flaw), and then presumably NOT giving her urgent guidance/assistance to avoid being captured by native hostiles

- Showing an egregious amount of immaturity and frivolity when making logistical decisions, such as the flight path of the Armada or how conquered planets are utilized

- Repeated abuses of their standing, trying to extra-judicially get rid of subjects over the pettiest reasons (if they had the formal authority to just vaporize Skoodge, Bob, OR Zim on the spot, they wouldn’t need to come up with convoluted and indirect methods that they only hope kill said targets)

- Upon Zim returning to them from his banishment: not sending him back to Foodcourtia and not refusing to humor his wishes to larp as an invader

- Oh yeah, also granting Zim at least some invader tech and allowing him to leave Conventia in what I assume is a ship he could have only stolen

- Still not dealing with Zim with extreme prejudice in a timely fashion after the events of Backseat Drivers from Beyond the stars, or investigating enough to find out and deal with prisoner 777

- HAVING WAITED THROUGH ALL OF THE ABOVE BEFORE SENDING FOR ZIM’S EXISTENCE EVALUATION

- Spending the bulk of their reign so far dicking around in space and gorging themselves. Seriously, Red showed us one act of proactive competence… and it was in order to fix a mess that they allowed Zim to get them into. Not to mention, the Resisty got away from that scrap after thoroughly humiliating their flagship.

Red, and by extension, Purple, are the almighty, Tallest threats to the entire Irken project of galactic conquest, as much as Zim would have loved all the credit in the universe. By what they’ve done, and who they are. He might be damaged, but them? There’s some defective moral character if I’ve ever seen.

#invader zim #iz #iz theory #iz headcanons #tallest red #tallest purple #iz tallest #iz the trial #defective Irkens #long post #scarlet talks about things #Tallest slander

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skelavender · 2 months

Text

“Do you know what today is, Scully?” Mulder says at the click of her heels entering the office, sat at his desk the same as always. “Leap day.” She says dryly. Same as it has been. “You know, Scully, there are all kinds of traditions about this stuff that vary from culture to culture–” “I know. St. Matthias, leaplings, unhappy marriages.” She sighs, and her voice turns slightly bitter. “And Leap Day Lovers.” Mulder blinks at her, slightly resembling a fish. “How did you–” “I’ve heard you say it so many times, Mulder.” She throws her arms to the side dramatically with a sigh of resignation. “I’m in a time loop.” OR If you add a time loop plot to your desk sex, its suddenly an elevated piece of literature

read X-File #02291996 on ao3, or below the cut!

Scully

Dana Scully has a routine. 6:30, wake up. It doesn’t matter if she has an alarm clock or not; at 6:30, she is awake. Flip the coffee pot on, get dressed while it heats up. Pour a cup into one of her mismatched mugs, fix her hair while it cools to a reasonable temperature. She makes toast, maybe eggs, maybe cereal, always some sort of protein. Breakfast, although she hates sounding like a med school cliche, is the most important meal of the day.

Thursday February 29th, 1996, is no different from any other morning. She wakes up at 6:32.

Coffee pot on.

Her chest is killing her, a product of yesterday’s ill-fitting bra and a too-tight bulletproof vest. She forgoes the wretched garment today, instead pulling a slightly stiffer blouse and blazer that will make sure no other agents are any wiser about her wardrobe choices. She isn’t planning on leaving the office today anyway, and it’s not like Mulder hasn’t seen her without a bra before. This is not her first day with post-Kevlar chest pain.

Paper retrieved.

Coffee poured.

Hair arranged into neat copper swoops.

Toast with peanut butter.

Scully has a routine.

She wouldn’t have even known it was a leap year if Mulder hadn’t mentioned it, flipping that stupid fun facts page-a-day calendar around at her as soon as she entered the basement office.

“Do you know what today is, Scully?” Mulder greets, his voice laced with enthusiasm that only ever precedes the most ridiculous of X-files.

“Thursday?” She suggests dryly.

“Thursday, February 29th.” He says, “Happy leap day, Scully.”

“Thrilling,” she rolls her eyes and settles into her desk and flips open the files from the Modell case.

“You know, Scully, there are all kinds of traditions about this stuff that vary from culture to culture. Leap year changes the feast day of St. Matthias; in Taiwan, people make their parents a specific noodle dish because it is believed that they are more likely to die on a leap day; those born on leap day – called ‘leaplings’, by the way – are chronically unlucky, people who get married on leap days are cursed with unhappy marriages.” This factoid is followed by a dramatic office-chair turn, “Which brings me to this.” He tosses a file in her direction. “The Leap Day Lovers.”

“Leap Day Lovers?” Scully echoes with a skeptical expression, one eyebrow raised.

“There are a number of couples who have reported getting caught in a time loop on leap day. They weren’t together when the loop started, but they were by the time it ended. There are a couple gaps, but not everyone is going to go public with that kind of story.”

“Mulder, this is ridiculous. Leap years are a concept invented by Julius Caesar to reconcile our imperfect calendar system with the way we understand and structure time. There is no naturally occurring scientific difference between leap days and any other day of the year.”

“But what if there is?”

“There’s not! It’s a social construct! There’s nothing to study here.”

“But Scully, listen. Their stories match. None of them were aware of the Leap Day Lovers before it happened to them.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“C’mon, you don’t think it’s a little romantic? Time warps around them until they can figure themselves out. It’s like the universe is rooting for them!”

“I don’t believe in the universe, Mulder.”

“You believe in God.”

“I also believe in science, which has not proven time capable of looping, or even being harnessed by the power of man to be able to travel through it.”

“Not time travel, either? Scully, you’re gonna start hurting my feelings.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not a case, Mulder. Just a bunch of whack jobs who end up dating and bouncing their crazy off of one another. Now we have a heap of paperwork to do on the Modell case, so let's get on that.”

“Fine, but when one of the Leap Day Lovers of past years responds to my emails or we have a new time distortion report on March 1st, I reserve the right to gloat.” He sets the file on top of his precarious tower of cases he wants to investigate, and takes the blank paperwork from her.

The day that passes is… boring, to say the least. One of the blandest days she’s had since she joined the X-Files department. Mulder leaves just before 10:00 to get coffee, and returns with a cup from the cafe across the street from the Hoover building. She eats her salad for lunch. Mulder does not get a response from any of his so-called Leap Day Lovers.

She goes home at the end of standard working hours, content with the headway they’ve made on their paperwork. It’s unusual, being home in time to cook a proper dinner, but she’s happy to be able to do it today. She settles into bed with a cup of chamomile tea and a book, an honest to god book that she’s been trying to read for months and taken on many plane rides but never gotten through. At a perfectly reasonable 10:00 PM, she turns her lamp off and settles in to sleep.

In the morning, Scully wakes at 6:32. She gets her paper and her coffee, does her hair, eats her toast. She goes to work.

Mulder stands in the exact spot he did yesterday. When he flips around the page a day calendar, it once again reads February 29th.

“Oh, very funny, Mulder.” She says before he can launch the rant about leap day superstitions that she’s sure was about to ensue.

“What?”

“Save me the leap day prank, it’s not going to work.”

Mulder looks at her blankly. “What?”

“What.”

“It’s February 29th.”

“No, it’s March 1st. Yesterday was February 29th.”

“No, yesterday was February 28th.”

“Mulder–”

“It was! Look at the computer!” He leads her across the room, and once it boots up, it does display the date as 02/29/96.

“Okay, so you planned to try to prank me, and came in early to set it back. It’s not going to work, Mulder.”

He looks at her sideways before shaking his head and opening the file on his desk. “It’s fine, we all get days mixed up sometimes. Remember when I missed my own birthday because I got two pages of the calendar stuck together? Anyway, I wanted to show you this,” he turns the file toward her. “There are all kinds of traditions about this stuff that vary from culture to culture. Leap year changes the feast day of St. Matthias; in Taiwan, people make their parents a specific noodle dish because it is believed that they are more likely to die on a leap day–”

“You… Mulder, you already told me all of this.”

“When?”

“When? It– yesterday, Mulder! 24 hours ago, almost exactly.”

“I didn’t even know about most of this until this morning.”

“You’re about to tell me about the Leap Day Lovers.”

Mulder’s lip firms a mock pout. “Way to ruin the climax, Scully. Did you pull their files yesterday or something?”

Scully slides a hand across her eyes in resignation. “If I let you tell me about them, can we get to work on finishing our paperwork?”

“I don’t have high hopes of finishing the paperwork today, but yes. The Leap Day Lovers…”

Mulder’s lecture is the same as it had been yesterday. He must have been planning this for a while, in order to memorize his spiel well enough to deliver it line-by-line like this. If Scully weren’t annoyed, she would be impressed. He even sneezes at the same time, in the same cadence.

She does finally badger him into doing paperwork, but when she opens her briefcase to retrieve the paperwork she had started yesterday, she can’t find it. And it isn’t at her workstation, either.

“Mulder, did you take my report?”

“No?”

“Dammit, Mulder, this isn’t funny! That took all day!”

“Scully neither of us have started our reports yet.” He looks at her curiously, concerned and suspicious of her confusion. “Are you alright, Scully?”

“I just don’t want to have to redo the whole thing.”

“You seem pretty sure of this.” His eyes narrow. “Scully, are you in a time loop?”

“No.” She answers quickly and decisively. She can’t be, because such an idea is ridiculous. “I must just be getting my cases confused.”

“Uh huh.” Mulder does not seem convinced, but turns to his own report anyways, leaving Scully to rewrite the report she knows she already started.

Something is up, that’s for sure, but it certainly isn’t something as preposterous as a time loop.

***

It’s her 15th February 29th, and Scully is getting tired of Mulder’s bullshit. She’s going to kill him.

He’s on his fifteenth rant about an X-file that isn’t an X-file. Or, at least, it wasn’t an X-file fourteen February 29ths ago.

“– those born on leap day – called ‘leaplings’, by the way, isn’t that adorable–”

She can’t take it anymore. She needs him to shut up or she is going to spontaneously combust, which would probably just result in her name ending up in another goddamn X-file. She thinks she may be slowly losing her mind. That is what she’ll blame it on if she wakes up on Thursday again. She reaches over the table and grabs that stupid ugly goddamn paisley tie. Whatever off-the-wall theory he was about to suggest turns into an incredibly dignified “Mmmf?” before she cuts him off.

The kiss is not quite hard enough for their teeth to click together, but it’s a near thing. Mulder freezes for a moment, though it feels like an eternity, before melting into her.

“Oh, ok,” he whispers against her lips, pulling back slightly. She’s about to respond, say something about the time loop, apologize for kissing him like that. Instead, the room starts fading.

When she opens her eyes, the clock reads 6:32.

***

Mulder

Mulder gets to the office around 5:30 AM, unable to sleep and with his brain hooked on the idea of a leap day. He hadn’t even realized it was a leap year until he booted his home computer up to check his email, and had noticed the 02/29/96 in the corner. So instead of trying to find a case on the web or through newsletters, he digs into the history and superstitions of leap years. Once a vaguely reasonable time to go to the office rolls around, he hops on the Metro to the Hoover building and scours the filing cabinets for anything to do with leap days. This is when he finds the fascinating phenomena of the Leap Day Lovers.

When Scully shows up, he’s a few cups of coffee deep and excited to share with her what he’s found. She’s going to try to refute it of course, but he still enjoys sharing it with her. Her “Mulder, you’re off your rocker” face is, frankly, adorable.

She, as always, looks perfectly put together as she steps into the room, accompanied by the click click click of her heels. Her hair is perfectly in place, her blazer neatly buttoned. She’s gorgeous. He flips his fact-a-day calendar around to take her attention off his face, which he’s sure shows how he’s taking her in.

He walks her through what he’s found. The Leap Day Lovers, he saves for the grand finale. It’s by far the most interesting file related to the date, and the fact that Scully always gets a little fidgety when he brings up any sort of romance-adjacent file doesn’t hurt.

“Leap Day Lovers?” Scully echoes with a skeptical expression, one eyebrow raised.

He would normally be irritated by someone poking holes in an X-File like this. If it were anyone else poking holes in his theories like this, it would piss Mulder off. But the way Scully approaches it, with exasperation, yes, but also with the desire for an intellectual debate on the subject, he doesn't mind. Plus, she's pretty when she's proving him wrong.

“But what if there is?”

“There’s not! It’s a social construct! There’s nothing to study here.”

“But Scully, listen. Their stories match. None of them were aware of the Leap Day Lovers before it happened to them.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

They bicker, as they always do, about the difference between God and a universal power, about the science behind temporal anomalies. It’s comforting, to Mulder, how Scully consistently rebuts his theories. How she is able to bring him back down to earth when his head is floating in space.

“Sure, fine, but when we have a new time distortion report on March 1st, I reserve the right to gloat.” He shuffles the files back into a neat (or as neat as he ever is) stack, leaving the Leap Day Lovers file on top. Scully rolls her eyes so hard he thinks she may have pulled a muscle.

Though he resigns to paperwork, his eyes are hurting by 10AM and he needs a break. He announces to Scully that he’s doing a coffee run, but she declines his offer to pick something up for her.

On his way back, as he approaches the intersection next to the entrance of the Hoover building. This intersection is the home to Mulder’s favorite part of DC, something he loves more than the Air and Space Museum, more than any monument. At this intersection stands a defaced street sign. It’s supposed to instruct turning bicycles to use crosswalks, but a single “u” has been removed by an unknown yet brilliant vandal, resulting in a sign that says “se x-walks.” There is a sign that says “sex walks” right outside the national headquarters of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Mulder laughs every time he passes it.

Apparently, he’s not the only one. A man walking a three-legged dog crosses the street towards him, and when the owner glances up at the sign, he bursts out laughing. The hilarity of the sign tickles him so much that he’s still laughing when he reaches the curb of the sidewalk, and he trips. The dog, displeased with his owner’s clumsiness, seems to glare at the giggling man.

Mulder snorts at the ordeal, and continues inside to allow the sludge of paperwork to consume him once again.

Scully leaves at 5:00 on the dot, but Mulder chooses to stay a little longer. She might not want to investigate the Leap Day Lovers, but he’s fascinated by the phenomenon, and decided to read a couple more accounts that he had emailed himself in the morning. He falls asleep facedown on the desk.

Mulder wakes up on his couch at 4AM with a vague feeling of anticipation. He blinks his eyes open to see his living room, lit only by his fish tank. This is unusual, considering that he doesn’t remember coming home. He could have sworn he fell asleep at the office. His watch matches the time displayed by his clock, so he hasn’t lost time, so no aliens. And this would not be the first time he had no memory of his commute home.

He shuffles, still half asleep, to his desk and drops into the chair before fumbling to flip his computer on. Might as well get a start on the day, especially if he wants to find any reports of Leap Day Lovers, or any leap day related phenomena before they can be covered up. As the screen finishes its start-up paces, he freezes. There, in tiny, digital numerals, “02/29/96” stares back at him. Surely, this is just a cruel ironic trick of the universe. It always loves to play those on him. His computer must have had some error, a glitch, power outage. Something. But no, his email has the same 4 unread messages from various co-workers he doesn’t want to respond to. But that could still be chalked up to a computer error. He’s trying to be rational. He’s trying to think like Scully.

He gets dressed in a hurry, pulling his left shoe on as he locks his door. If this was just a computer error, he could check the office computers. The newspapers. The train schedule. He can’t rush into this blind. The train, as it was the last morning, is two minutes late. He makes a mental note. He nearly runs through security at the Hoover Building and narrowly avoids breaking his neck on the stairs to the basement office.

He’s nearly bouncing on the stool as he watches the computer boot up. When it comes to life, the corner reads 02/29/29. Fuck.

Could be a coincidence. A suspiciously Scully-like voice echoes through his head.

Mulder needs more to confirm his suspicions. He thinks back to what he had done yesterday, searching for anything odd enough it would be unlikely to repeat. Around 10, he had gone out for coffee at the cafe a couple blocks over, and had laughed at a three-legged dog glaring at their clumsy owner. Even if the guy walks his dog at the exact same time every day along the exact same route, he won’t trip at the exact same spot as he had yesterday. At least not if he’s not in a time loop. A glance at the clock tells him that he still has hours until then, so he hunkers down and gathers as much information as possible on temporal anomalies.

He hardly even notices when Scully arrives, absorbed in his research. She tries to get him to work on the mountain of paperwork and reports they should be working on, the stuff they had completed yesterday but had magically been undone, but he brushes her off. He can feel her gaze, equally concerned and pissed off at his apparent distraction, but ignores it. If he’s right, she won't even remember it tomorrow.

Mulder stands suddenly a few minutes before 10AM. “I’m going to go get coffee,” He explains. Scully waves him out without a word, and Mulder whisks down the basement hallway, coat billowing behind him.

Mulder makes it to the corner of 10th and Pennsylvania at 9:58 by his watch, and leans against a large planter adorning the sidewalk. Sure enough, at exactly 10:14, a balding man crosses 10th Street, then Pennsylvania Avenue. Sure enough, when he passes the sign that reads se x-walks, the man guffaws loudly. When he makes it to the curb, he’s still laughing at the hilarity that is that sign, which is fair considering that Mulder himself often laughs when passing it, and trips up onto the sidewalk. The pug glares up at his owner from the end of the leash, as if exhausted by the regular occurrence of the man getting so distracted by immature vandalism that he makes them both look like fools.

And that is what really seals it all in for Mulder. He’s in a time loop. An honest to god fucking time loop. He doesn’t know if he’s excited or horrified.

***

On his 3rd time living through leap day, Mulder is a goddamn disaster. He almost dies on the stairs down to the basement again, and when he makes it safely into the office, he immediately stubs his toe on the desk. He gets a papercut, he spills his coffee, then gets another papercut. And that’s all before Scully arrives.

“Jesus, Mulder, what happened to you?” Is what she chooses to greet him with. It’s fair, he knows he looks a mess with a coffee stain on his shirt and two bandaged fingers.

“I’m having a bad day. A series of bad days, as a matter of fact.”

He doesn’t see her stepping closer as he rises from his desk chair. When he does look up, she’s right in front of him. Caught off-guard, he stumbles. With the help of the universe and the worst timing known to mankind, he commits his most dangerous clumsy move yet.

His lips land on hers.

Mulder wakes up on the couch.

***

Scully

Scully wakes up at 6:32.

Coffee pot on.

Her chest is killing her. Her lips are tingling. She has the bone-deep sensation that a significant amount of time has passed.

Scully diverges from her routine and grabs the newspaper before getting dressed. Closing her robe tight around her, she takes a shaky breath and hopes, hopes, hopes that the paper will read March 1st, 1996, with something other than “JUDICIAL RACES TURN LIVELY” splashed across the front page.

It does not. The paper reads February 29th, 1996. The front article is dry as ever. Scully grunts and thunks her head into the doorframe in frustration.

She goes to work. Mulder rambles. She goes to bed.

***

She wakes up at 6:32. Coffee on. Get dressed. Retrieve newspaper. Pour coffee. Do hair. Eat breakfast. Go to work. Mulder rambles. Go to bed.

***

6:32. Coffee. Dressed. Newspaper. Coffee. Hair. Breakfast. Mulder. Bed.

***

6:32. Work. Mulder. Bed.

***

6:32. Bed. Bed. Mulder, concerned. Bed.

***

6:32.

***

6:32.

***

6:32.

She gives up. This is not an elaborate prank. This is a stupid goddamn X-file.

Scully plays with the idea of calling Mulder over to her apartment but decides instead to meet him in the office. Maybe there is some substance in the file he’s presented to her fifteen times now.

“Do you know what today is, Scully?” Mulder says at the click of her heels entering the office, sat at his desk the same as always.

“Leap day.” She says dryly. Same as it has been.

“You know, Scully, there are all kinds of traditions about this stuff that vary from culture to culture–”

“I know. St. Matthias, leaplings, unhappy marriages.” She sighs, and her voice turns slightly bitter. “And Leap Day Lovers.”

Mulder blinks at her, slightly resembling a fish. “How did you–”

“I’ve heard you say it so many times, Mulder.” She throws her arms to the side dramatically with a sigh of resignation. “I’m in a time loop.”

Mulder blinks at her. “What.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“You’re– really? You aren’t making fun of me?”

“Nope.”

“How... Jesus, how many times?”

“Thirty-four.”

“How many times have you told me?”

Scully’s quiet for a second, fiddling with the cuff of her blazer.

“Scully?”

“I haven’t, okay!” She bursts.

“You’ve lived today thirty-four times without even telling me?”

“Well, at first I thought it was some elaborate prank, and I then didn’t want you to be right about today being… whatever.”

Mulder runs his hands through his hair. “Well, most time loops have something you have to stop to kick it out of place, right? Have you figured out what that is yet?”

“Nope. And don’t try me with that Leap Day Lover crap, Mulder.”

“No? Are you sure?”

Her mouth forms a thin line. “If that were the case it would… already be resolved.”

Mulder gives her a sideways glance, but thankfully, doesn’t follow that line of inquiry any further. “Have there been any days that were notably different?”

Scully’s mind latches immediately to the sensation of Mulder’s lips disappearing from hers, and waking suddenly at home. “There was one that was… odd.”

Mulder gestures expectantly, “Well?”

“Normally, the day doesn’t restart until I go to sleep or midnight comes around. But there was one day where it reset in the middle of the day.”

“Any idea what caused it?”

“I have… some.”

“...Well? C’mon, Scully, don’t make me waterboard it outta you.”

“I… kissed someone.”

“Really?” Mulder’s tone is now teasing, prepared to elicit information on Scully’s dating life she would normally not provide. “Is this why you’re so sure it’s not the Lovers? Who was it?”

“Yes, and that’s… not relevant.”

“Scullyyyy,” he whines, “You’re living an X-file and you won’t even give me the details?”

“Only the relevant ones.”

“Fine.”

“So then do you think the day will restart whenever you kiss anyone?”

“I– I don’t know. It’s possible. It’s only happened the once, so I have no proof otherwise.”

“Alright,” he stands and strides towards her, “Then test it. Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, and if you restart immediately, you’ll know for sure that’s what made it happen. Then when you wake up ‘tomorrow,’” he wiggles his fingers in air quotes, “You can tell me all of this again and we can work from there.”

Scully knows that there is no point to this. She knows that it will not prove what Mulder thinks it will, because Mulder is under the impression that she had kissed someone else previously. But he put it out there, and she’s not one to say no to affection from him.

“Okay.” She holds her chin up, dignified, and takes the last step toward him. When she’s in his proximity, he rests his hands on her hips. She wraps a hand around the back of his neck and guides his face down towards her own.

The kiss is softer than the previous one, but no less wonderful. She drags her fingernails up Mulder’s neck and into his hair, making his breath hitch and his grip tighten on her hips, pulling her closer, closer, closer and she’s so completely caught up in him. The kiss is a dream.

But it’s gone, and she wakes up at 6:32 in her bed.

***

Mulder

Something has been different about the past few February 29ths. When he woke up 13 days ago – if you could call them days, considering it’s the same day over and over – it felt like time had passed. And the last day had cut off as soon as he had accidentally kissed Scully. In every other iteration, he had gone to sleep and woken up with it being the same day. Never had the day rebooted while he was still at the office, or while he was awake at all.

Clearly, it must be aliens.

He’s missing time. He goes into the office on the 17th February 29th and instead of pulling X-files about leap day, he goes for the abduction reports. He can’t even count the number that reference missing time, but there are only a couple that reference repeating days. None of them for as long as Mulder has experienced, but they might still hold clues to what’s happening.

He’s settling into his chair with a meager five relevant files when Scully comes through the door.

“Morning, Mulder.” She greets.

“Hey.” he replies absently, flipping through the pages.

Her brows scrunch, “What’s going on? You’re lacking your usual morning X-file enthusiasm.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He sounds resigned, but can anyone blame him? It’s not like Scully would jump on the idea.

“Try me.” She leans forward and places her hands on the desk, challenging him.

He finally glances up at her, considering his course of action. After a moment of contemplation, he puts the file on the top of the stack in front of him and stands. “Come with me.” She follows closely behind him as he walks up the stairs and out the front doors of the Hoover building. They cross Pennsylvania Avenue diagonally, past Mulder’s favorite sign in all of DC.

He guides her, with a hand on her back, to a spot in the shade behind the large flower pots.

“Wait here a minute, he’ll be here soon.” Mulder says, checking his watch. He’s only seen what he’s about to point out a couple times, when getting to work later or leaving to grab breakfast for Scully before she arrives, but he’s pretty sure what he’s waiting to happen will occur shortly.

“Who will, Mudler? An informant?”

“No.” He leans down to talk lowly, right into her ear, “A man with a three legged dog is about to pass us. He’ll walk past the Hoover building, cross 10th, cross Pennsylvania, and laugh at the sex sign very loudly. He’s going to trip on the sidewalk, and the three legged dog is going to glare at him.”

She leans back to look at him with her ‘Mulder, you’re nuts’ look. He expected this. He receives it often. She doesn’t say anything yet, but turns back to the road to observe. Sure enough, a man with a three-legged pug crosses 10th St NW, then Pennsylvania Ave, laughs so hard at the sex walks sign that he trips on the curb and the dog looks at him disapprovingly.

“How did you know that would happen?” Scully asks.

Mulder takes a deep breath and places his hands on her shoulders. He leans down a little to lessen their high difference ever so slightly. “Scully, I’m in a time loop.”

Scully blinks at him for a moment. Her brow furrows. She lifts a hand to his face, and rests the back against it. “Well you don’t have a fever.”

“I’m not sick, Scully. I’m stuck.”

She hums, unconvinced, and continues checking him out. She examines his pupils, his pulse, everything she can think to do without her med bag.

“I have a hypothesis.” He offers hesitantly.

“Which is?”

“Well there’s only been one loop that’s been different.”

“Uh huh.” She’s still hesitant; still doesn’t believe him.

“One time that the day restarted in the middle of it, instead of while I was asleep. I think I know what triggered it, but I can’t be sure, I could be completely off-base–”

“Mulder.” She interrupts, making him look back at her. “What is it?”

“We kissed. On accident, I mean. I miscalculated our proximity. Totally unintentional. But as soon as we, uh, stopped, I woke up in my bed and it was the morning again, instead of resetting when I went to sleep.”

“So you’re asking to kiss me to… test this theory?”

“Yes?”

“If I say yes, and it doesn’t work, will you let me take you to a doctor?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Mulder. Lay one on me.”

He sucks in a breath and takes a step toward her. One hand goes to her hip, drawing her body in, and the other slides around the contour of her cheek.

This is his first time intentionally kissing her on the mouth, their first real kiss, and she won’t even remember it. She won't remember the small gasp she let out as their lips touched, won’t remember tangling her fingers in his hair to keep him right where he is, won’t remember the press or the pull or the small bites or anything else.

But Mulder will.

Mulder will carry this with him forever. From the second his lips press intentionally against hers, he knows he’s irreparably changed. There’s no going back.

Except there is. Mulder does go back. Back to that morning, stretched across his couch, bathed in the glow of his fish tank. He’s there before the kiss even breaks.

***

Scully

On Scully’s 38th iteration of February 29th, she wears her pajamas into the office. She takes the elevator down to the basement, receiving more than a few weird looks. She enters the office without a word, and before Mulder can inquire about her attire or launch into his rant about leap year traditions and superstitions, she grabs him by the arm and drags him right out the door, up the elevator, and out the Hoover building. He says her name multiple times, asks what’s going on, but she doesn’t respond until they’re seated in their usual spots at the diner down the road.

“Scully, what’s going on?” Mulder’s voice is laced with concern.

“A waffle and two scrambled eggs, please.” Scully says to the approaching waiter. Mulder is still staring at her like she’s grown a second head. That might be an easier X-file to solve. “Order.” She instructs.

He does so without taking his eyes off of her, requesting his usual omelet. Scully smiles at the waiter and finally turns to her partner.

“I’m in a time loop.”

“Scully, I know we’ve been doing the boring 9-5 paperwork and office stuff recently, but there are people with more boring jobs than us who would call it a routine, not a time loop. And most of them don’t show up to work in pajamas.

“No, Mulder, I’m really, truly, in a time loop. It’s been Thursday for the past 37 days.”

“Oh.” He blinks at her stupidly. “And you’re at the ‘giving up’ stage of time loop grief?”

“More or less. We’re playing hooky today, Mulder. We’re going to the museums I’ve been meaning to go to since I moved here but haven’t gotten around to. Did you know I’ve never even seen the Declaration of Independence? I’ve lived in DC for five years, and the DMV for four more in undergrad, and I’ve never seen the Declaration of Independence.”

“Neither have I,” Mulder says absently, still taken aback by the Un-Scullylikeness of this whole day. The waiter places their food in front of them, and Scully thanks him.

“Eat.” She orders through a bite of waffle, seeing that Mulder hasn’t even picked up his fork yet.

He doesn’t move.“Are you okay?”

“No. I’m losing my mind a little bit, and I want to have a day that doesn’t feel like the one I’ve been living over and over. You’re going to eat your omelet, I’m going to go see our nation’s founding document in my pajamas, and who knows, maybe we’ll stop by the tidal basin and take out one of those–” she motions vaguely with her hands, “What’re they called, the swans?”

“A pedal boat?”

“Yes. We’re going to take out a pedal boat.”

“Isn’t it a bit cold for that?”

“Maybe. But we're going to do it anyway.”

Mulder looks at her, shoveling syrup-soaked waffle into her face with a lack of grace she doesn’t usually exhibit unless she’s at home or eating barbecue.

Mulder knows Scully pretty well, three years into their partnership. Though her eyes don’t show it, her tone of voice tells him just how wrung dry she is. “Okay.” he picks up his fork.

“Wonderful, thank you.”

***

Mulder might’ve had the right idea about February being too cold for pedal boating. She’s trying not to shiver through her thin pajamas, but she thinks Mulder is starting to notice. They’re in the middle of the tidal basin, facing the Jefferson Memorial when a gust of wind makes Scully’s teeth chatter.

Silently, without an I told you so, Mulder divests himself of his own long coat and wraps it around Scully’s shoulders. In an instant, she’s warm and surrounded by the feeling of Mulder. It’s not quite a scent, barely even a physical sensation, but a specific air of safety and home that his proximity provides.

She stops pedaling and turns toward him.

“What? Are we turning?” He asks.

Scully just shakes her head, and leans in to kiss him. Because what else is she supposed to do? Mulder has believed her, trusted her, and given her the day she said she needed. He has kept her warm, he has kept her safe. Not just today, but always.

As she leans towards him the boat shifts. For a moment, she’s concerned they’re about to capsize into the tidal basin, but all of her concerns go out the window when he starts to kiss her back. And he’s eager, not just giving her what she wants when she’s feeling bad. He wants this, wants it like she does. His hands are in her hair and he’s pulling her in towards him. Her brain comes back on when he pulls her into his lap, distributing their weight even more unevenly and they’re tipping, tipping, and she’s so sure they’re about to be shocked apart by winter-chilled water.

Instead, she opens her eyes to see her 39th 6:32.

***

Mulder

Mulder is facedown on the desk on his 47th February 29th, and doesn’t even realize Scully has entered the office until her briefcase lands on the chair across the desk with some force. She’s a couple minutes earlier than usual.

“You’re early.” He remarks with surprise.

“Barely. I just got lucky and hit the lights right.” She shrugs her coat off. “When I passed the women’s room down the hall, I think I heard someone moaning.”

“Hm. Sex moaning or ghost moaning.”

“Sex moaning,” Scully answers simply, like it’s a perfectly normal question. Which, for the X-files division, it is.

“Wheeew,” Mulder leans back in his chair. “That’s bold.”

“What,” Scully says with a smirk and a sideways glance from where she’s settled by her computer and microscope, “You’ve never had sex in a semi-public space?”

This makes his eyebrows shoot to his hairline, “And you have?” Scully’s face immediately goes a bright red. “Oh my god, you have.”

“No!” She answers too quickly.

“Scully, you dog!” Mulder teases. “C’mon, where was it? Lover’s lane? Between the stacks? Don’t tell me it was in a morgue.”

“Not… quite.”

“Not quite?”

“It might’ve been in a lab setting.”

“Oh my god. You blew someone in a lab?” Her face gets redder. “You got fucked in a lab?”

Scully presses a hand across her mouth and mumbles something only half distinguishable into it.

“I’m sorry, it almost sounded like you just said you fucked him in the lab.”

“Yes.” She says. “I bent him over the lab bench. I had the key because I was working with the professor that semester, and we went in after hours.”

“Scully!”

“Oh, please, Mulder. I’m sure you have some equally ridiculous sex story from college.”

A specific memory washes over him. He tries his best not to let it show, but Scully can read him too well. She gets a look of victory on her face. “You do!”

“Um.”

“What is it?”

“It was an… award I received in my third year at Oxford.”

“An award, Mulder? Really?” She scoffs, “For what?”

“Most orgasms.”

“Most orgasms?” She echoes in her signature disbelieving tone, the same one she dons when he suggests ghosts or zombies or bigfoot. “Right. Giving or receiving.”

“Giving. The girl ended up telling some of her friends about it, and one of those girls told her boyfriend, who was a part of this party house which was about as close to a frat as you get in England. They were… impressed.”

“How impressed?”

“They offered me a room. To live with them. It was a rare offer.”

“And did you?”

“No.”

“Huh.” She’s quiet for a moment, considering. “How–” She stops herself, unwilling to ask what she really wants to know.

“How many?” He finishes the question for her. She nods, curious. “Twenty-seven. But she was particularly sensitive.”

Scully gawks, then lets out a disbelieving laugh. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did!”

“How?”

“With my mouth, mostly.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “Oh, please, Mulder. No one is that good with their tongue. No man, anyway.”

“You think I’m not good at oral? You have no frame of reference!”

Scully stands from her seat at her little science station across the room. She approaches where he sits at their desk.

Now, Scully leaning against or sitting on the desk isn’t particularly unusual. It’s the most convenient place for her to be when they’re debating something, or looking at a file together. But sitting directly in the middle, right on top of the file he’s referencing, with one heeled foot dangling on either side and thighs spread as far as her pencil skirt will allow, with the tops of her thigh-highs peeking out, is not, in fact, standard fare.

She looks down at him with a shine in her eyes, glistening with a dare. “Prove it.”

There’s no way this is happening. Monkeys on typewriters, laws of large numbers, divine intervention, there’s no way. For once in his life, the universe is working in his favor.

But he won’t get to keep it. He better make use of the opportunity in front of him.

Without breaking eye contact, Mulder pushes his chair back and kneels in front of his partner. His thumbs work her pencil skirt up as he breathes in the scent of her.

When her skirt is pushed up far enough to see her red underwear, he rubs a thumb up her center, and oh god. Oh GOD. She’s soaked through them. He’s hardly even touched her. She’s wet enough just from talking to soak through her underwear. Fuck.

Mulder hooks two fingers into her underwear and pushes them to the side, skimming across her bare cunt. She’s so close to him that he’s shaking. So is she.

Finally, Mulder leans in and his tongue makes contact with her clit. She shudders, and her hands fall to his hair. His eyes don’t leave her face, hers bore into the ceiling as her head falls back in pleasure with a groan.

When she looks back down at him her ever flawless hair has fallen over her face. Her cheeks are flushed and pupils blown out. God how he wishes this wouldn’t be gone tomorrow, living on only in his memory.

He licks at her again, then removes his tongue to kiss her clit with just his lips, light and teasing. Her hands tighten on him, all but shoving his face further into her. Mulder whimpers.

How many times has he sat at this desk fantasizing about this? About her thighs around his head and her hands in his hair, about her, her, always her. How many times has he felt guilty for thinking about her like this, his partner moaning his name like it’s gospel? Her hand at the back of his head, both gentle and commanding, holding him against her. It’s not like he would want to be anywhere else.

She takes one hand away to work at her tits. Mulder tries to take over, batting her hand away to touch her there instead. She grabs his wrist sharply and makes direct eye contact.

“Not so fast, you already have a job to do.” She pushes his hand back to its position pressing her knees apart. She unbuttons her top herself, revealing nothing but skin. He’s going to have to live this day over and over, knowing that she’s not wearing a bra. He doesn’t know how he’ll survive it.

Scully’s foot flexes and her heel tumbles to the ground. She doesn’t seem to notice. She’s close, Mulder can tell. Her thighs are twitching. Suddenly, she swings her shoeless foot up to the chair behind him for leverage and grinds her clit onto his tongue.

Mulder whines.

Mulder fucking comes.

He hadn’t even been aware of his own body, of how hard or how close he was. He certainly hadn’t touched himself, far too focused on Scully’s taste, the minute twitching and pulsing of her vulva beneath his lips and tongue. His own pleasure hadn’t even been relevant, but Scully chasing orgasm, Scully using him, pushes him over the edge. Only for her. Always her, her, her. He sees stars, not the ones he’s spent so many hours staring at in frustration but what he imagines heaven might look like. Through the endorphin fog, he is vaguely glad for the time loop. He and his pants are ruined. He has never wanted to be anything else.

His name rolls off her lips over and over like a mantra. A prayer, a plea. Like she needs him. She tastes like salvation on his lips, his tongue, his chin. Scully’s still grinding her clit on his tongue like he’s her own personal sex toy when she lets out a high-pitched grunt, wraps her raised leg around his neck, and her body stiffens as she comes. Hard.

She catches her breath, riding out her orgasm on his face. Through the aftershocks, he keeps his mouth on her, just to keep her warm, really. She settles back on the desk and looks back down again with a demand on her tongue and in her eyes, “Again. Fingers this time.”

And who is he to deny her?

He releases her cunt from his lips and, for a moment, just looks her in the eye. He gazes at her like she hung the moon, placed the stars, all the things in between them. Like she is his reason for being, the only worthwhile thing on the face of the planet. Like she’s GOD. He presses a sticky-wet kiss to the first sliver of skin above her skirt, needing to take in every bit of her, to catalog the taste and texture of her entire body.

Scully is not as patient, “Now, Mulder,” she all but growls.

He complies, placing two fingers to her entrance, barely letting his fingertips slip in. She bucks her hips towards him, forcing his fingers in a bit further, but meeting no resistance. He presses them in further and bends them towards the front wall of her vagina. He must hit the exact right spot, because Scully just about screams and drops forward above him, held up by a hand on his shoulder. He rubs that spot, and shifts his thumb to hit her clitoris as well.

When his lips reach her chest, her breathing hitches. He’s struck gold. She arches into him, presenting an expanse of skin and tangling her fingers in his hair. His name, again and again and again. His name on her tongue and her taste on his.

His lips dance across the outer curve of her breast, tracing the shape of her name against her skin. Scully. Scully. Scully. Over and over. Only her.

It doesn’t take long, with two fingers inside her, his thumb sliding across her clit in slow swipes and his mouth on her tits, for her to come once again. This time, she holds his head to her chest while he pants her name into her skin like it’s the only word he knows. He thinks there might be tears in his eyes, borne from the overwhelming pleasure.

She pulls him off her chest by his hair and he looks up at her as her eyes dip to his lips.

“Are you hard?”

Well, now he is. Mulder nods, eyes wide.

Scully, breathless, orders, “Then fuck me.”

He’s too floored by the idea, overcome by his want for her, to process as she pulls him in to kiss her.

It’s then, he knows he’s doomed. It’s over. Any second now, he’ll wake up on his couch with a crick in his neck and missing time and Scully never, ever remembering that this even happened. So he kisses her back, tries to absorb every bit of the contact before he’s dragged away from it.

He makes it out the other end, when she starts fiddling with his belt buckle and pulls away to look at what she’s doing. For a fleeting moment, he thinks he’s broken it. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, sex is what he needed to break the loop, that he will get to keep this, to keep her.

Then he blinks, and his living room blooms in front of his eyes. It’s Thursday again. His fingers are still wet.

***

Scully

Scully wakes up sore. She can’t for the life of her figure out why. She also wakes up with a rather flustering mental image of Mulder looking up at her, puppy eyes from between her thighs. It isn’t like she hasn’t had…dreams about him before, this just feels so vivid. So real. She reminds herself that dreams mean nothing. They are the subconscious brain’s way of making sense of a life’s worth of memories and there is no hidden meaning in them. But those pleading eyes, the slightly parted and glistening lips, the tousled hair sticking out in odd directions, the ghost of a dream memory burned into her brain. How many times has she imagined him like that? Looking at her like there is nothing else in the universe that deserves his attention, on the verge of tears and begging for more. Begging for her, only her. She’s used to feeling guilty about it, years of catholic school have drilled that shame into her. But this time is different. The guilt isn’t there, just a vague yearning. Vague, but deep.

Scully glances at the clock. 6:32, like it has been for the past 38 February 29ths. She knows she doesn’t have the time to do anything about the pulsing between her thighs that has come as a product of the mental image of Mulder beneath her, not if she wants to be on time for work. But, on the other hand, so what if she’s late? It’s not like tomorrow will hold any consequences. And she certainly needs the tension in her body to… release.

Scully peels the covers back to give herself space to work. She rounds the bed to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed and retrieves her vibrator. After giving it a quick wash, not one to risk an infection, lays it on the bed and kneels over it, hovering naked. Her head falls back and she summons the image of Mulder. Not the one she’s dreamt up, but the one she’s… used… before, where she lays flat on his couch with his lips on her pussy.

It’s not hard to. Instinctually, she starts grinding down on the still vibrator, just trying to get friction. To warm up. To find the right angle. But it’s the returning image she had woken up with, of Mulder between her thighs, his eyes wide and glazed over and the entire lower half of his face covered in her wetness, that makes her actually turn it on.

She lets out a broken groan as the device powers to life. She falls forward a little when she does it, catching herself on her hands and looking down where her pussy is grinding on the vibrator. Her body has a mind of its own, she’s barely in control of it. She lifts one hand up to her chest and slides it across her sensitive skin.

She lifts her eyes and is met with her reflection in the vanity. She isn’t used to masturbating in the morning light or in this position, so she’s surprised by her own image. Her bed-mussed hair reminds her of the absolute fucking wreck that Mulder’s hair had been in her dream, which she can only imagine was from her pulling at it and guiding him.

Then she’s shaking harder and tensing with her orgasm. Overstimulated by the vibrations, she raises up off the sex toy, replaced by her hand as she rides it out. The sensation blooms throughout her body, blissful, but still not quite enough.

She needs more. Again.

Scully does not end up making it into the office on time. When she does step through the door, Mulder turns around to greet her with his bright, excited eyes and she can’t help but walk right up and kiss him square on the mouth. And again. And again. Until she wakes up and it's 6:32 again, and she cries.

***

Mulder

Mulder is getting tired of this. There just isn’t enough time in the one day to convince Scully that he’s in a time loop. Despite his exhaustion, he drags her out to the corner of 10th NW and Pennsylvania to watch the three legged dog again.

He parks her by the flower pots and places his hands on her shoulders to explain, yet again, the series of events that is about to transpire.

“There’s going to be a guy with a three legged dog, he’s going to laugh at the sex walks sign, trip on the sidewalk–”

“And the dog is going to glare.” Scully finishes the sentence for him, her voice distant and vaguely distracted.

Mulder pauses. “How did you know that?”

“I don’t know, it just seemed familiar.”

“You remember.” A laugh bubbles out of him, pure relief. Oh god. She’s remembering. He’s not going to be alone.

“Remember what?” She asks as Mulder doubles over in relieved laughter. “Mulder?”

He stands back up straight. “I’m in a time loop, Scully. I’ve lived February 29th, 1996 somewhere around 60 times.”

Instead of twisting into concern or disbelief, this time Scully’s face is just shocked. “O-kay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Mulder pauses. “This hasn’t happened before. I’ve never been able to convince you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mulder. There’s something about it that just… makes sense.”

“Makes sense?”

“Yes, but I can’t put my finger on why.”

He considers his next move, unsure if it will turn out how he wants it to. “Let's test something.”

“Do you have a theory?”

“Yeah, Scully, I do. Listen, I’ve lived this day so many times. Some things change without me doing anything, but they’re all little things. Like sometimes the dog guy comes a few minutes later. But only one thing has changed how I experience the day.”

“And what is that?”

“When we kiss.” He says, like it’s so simple. Oh, of course we’ve kissed before. Obviously.

“We’ve… kissed? In the time loop?”

“Yes.”

“How many times?”

“Three times, now. Twice accidentally and once to test the theory properly.”

“What did it change?”

“The day restarted then,” he explains, “Instead of rebooting when I went to sleep in the evening or when it hit midnight. And it felt like there was… a gap. Like I was missing time.”

“Oh god, Mulder, don’t go telling me you think this is an alien time loop, that’s just a step too far.”

“No,” Mulder laughs, “No alien time loops, don’t worry. I don’t know what they would want with us repeating today over and over anyway.”

“And why do you think it works that way, then? Who, or what, do you think is controlling us?”

“I don’t know. The universe? God? That’s a big question.”

“Then how do we stop it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you figured out anything, or have you just spent your time kissing me?”

“Hey, that’s a pattern I found!”

“Mulder.” Scully ‘s head falls back in exasperation. “What good is kissing me now going to do? You’ll just wake up in the morning again. You need to investigate and figure out what is happening. This is an X-file.”

“Well what do you suggest we do? Do you have some secret physicist friend who specializes in temporal anomalies?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, Mulder, I don’t. But we can look through the files to see if something like this has happened before.”

Oh. Mulder might be a bit stupid. He must’ve lost his mind a couple of February 29ths ago. He slaps his hand to his forehead. “Oh my god, it’s so obvious!” He turns on his heel and stalks back towards the Hoover building, almost getting pancaked by a Kia in the process. Scully is about two steps behind him, asking questions. He answers none of them, until he waltzes into their office and takes the Leap Day Lovers X-files out of the third cabinet. He hadn’t come in early to review them like he had on his first February 29th, so it feels to him as though the last time he laid eyes on them was months ago.

He hands the file to Scully without even opening it and collapses in his desk chair. Scully settles on the edge of the desk as she skims the contents of the folder. Mulder’s mind provides him with extensive images of Scully’s legs spread for him while she sits just a couple inches from where she is currently, and he doesn’t even have the energy to try to stop it.

“I don’t know how I didn’t put it together sooner.” He runs a hand through his hair. “We’re the Leap Day Lovers, Scully.”

She drops the file on the desk next to her. “Mulder, you don’t actually believe this, do you?”

“It’s the closest any of this has come to making sense.”

“It’s not though. If that were the case, wouldn’t it have already stopped when we kissed?”

“No, not if the intent wasn’t overly romantic. I only kissed you by accident, and to test the theory that that was what made it reset. And once was basically a dare.”

“I dared you to kiss me?”

“More or less.” He would really rather not provide the details of that particular February 29th right now, for fear of repeating it instead of figuring anything out.

“And why am I not remembering the loops? It’s just Thursday for me.”

Mulder does not point out that she’s incredibly stubborn about believing in the paranormal, but he wants to. “I don’t know, the accounts I’ve read aren’t super detailed about what each party goes through or who remembers what, just how they solved it.”

“By entering a… romantic relationship?”

“Yes.”

She looks him up and down, assessing. “And you’re… open to the idea?”

“Leap Day Lovers don’t tend to be people who are unattached, Scully. They're people who have… pent-up…desires.”

“That’s… alright.” Scully hangs her head for a moment, eyes closed, then lifts to look at him again. “Alright, Mulder, what do we need to do to get you out?”

“Have sex?” He suggests. He doesn’t mention that they have already tried that, but maybe if they’ve discussed the significance first it’ll have a more desired effect. And maybe he’ll be able to finish what he started this time.

“Oh.” She says. Not out of denial, just surprised at his brazenness. “...Okay, but we need to discuss something else first.”

“What?”

“In case it doesn’t work, I think we should have a word to try to make me remember. A codeword.”

“Something that says ‘hey, remember the last time loop?’”

“Yes.”

“Okay, what do you want it to be?”

Scully bites her lip, thinking. “Philtrum.”

“What is that?”

“It’s the word for the groove between your nose and lip.” Her hand rises to his face, and she drags a finger down his own philtrum, demonstrating. “Right here.”

“Alright. If I wake up at home, I’ll tell you ‘philtrum’ and hopefully it’ll bring you closer to remembering.” Mulder stands and moves between Scully’s legs, towering over her. He places his hands on either side of her face. “Can I kiss you?”

Scully nods, and he leans down towards her. Her mind catches up with her and she opens her mouth to say no, wait, if you kiss me on the mouth you’ll just wake up at home again, but Mulder’ lips are already on hers and she’s lost, lost, lost in him and the feeling and she’s blinking at her alarm clock, reading 6:32, with the phantom sensation of lips against her own.

***

Converge

At 6:32AM on February 29th, 1996, Scully wakes up confused. Something is different. Something has changed.

Coffee. Paper. Hair. Toast. Work. Mulder.

She can’t place what is different until she sees him. His presence pulls as a loose thread in her mind, trying to unravel the mystery in front of her.

His rant about leap day is the same as it usually is. Scully has all but memorized it by now. Just when he’s about to introduce the concept of Leap Day Lovers, he stops in the middle of his sentence.

“Have I told you about this before?”

This surprises her. Not once in any of her 39 February 29ths has Mulder indicated remembering a previous iteration.

“What?”

“Have we discussed leap day superstitions before? Or the leap day lovers? I’m getting the strongest deja vu of my life right now.”

Scully blinks at him for a moment. “Yes.”

“When?”

Scully sighs, “Mulder, I need to tell you something. I’ve lived this day 39 times before. Each time I come in here and you tell me about leap day, so yes, we’ve had this conversation before.”

“Huh.” Like that adds anything to the conversation.

“Huh? I, Dana Scully, notorious nonbeliever in anything mystical or supernatural, tell you that I’m in a time loop and all you have to say is huh?”

“Well, that makes sense. It seems… I don’t know, it just makes sense to me.” He ponders for a moment, eyebrows scrunching to indicate he’s thinking hard about something. “Scully, does the word philtrum mean anything to you?”

It’s Scully’s turn to consider this intently. “Yes, it’s the groove between the nose and upper lip.” She hesitates. “And you said it to me… here, in the office. You were showing me a file, we had just come in from the corner outside the Hoover building? With the…” She snaps her fingers, trying to summon the memory. “The dog, and the laughing guy.”

Mulder nods. “And the sex walks sign.”

“I’m not calling it that. But why don’t I remember it fully? It seems like it happened recently, but more recently than things that I know have happened in the time loop. And I can’t remember it all the way. It’s like a dream I can only partially recall.”

“Do you think you’ve just lived today so many times that they’ve started to blend together? To feel like dreams?”

“No, I can remember the rest of them, this is the only one that feels… fuzzy.”

“But I can remember it more clearly. I remember you wearing that outfit, I remember how the flowers smelled. I remember seeing an empty coke bottle in one of the flower beds.” His face lights up, like a cartoon light bulb has been switched on above his head. “Scully, what if we’re both in time loops, and they’re starting to feed into each other?”

“That only works if you subscribe to the multiverse theory, which I don’t, and even if it were true, there is no evidence for the ability to cross between these realities.”

“You didn’t think time loops were possible until now, either, and your own experience proves you were wrong about that.”

Scully sighs in exasperation. “Mulder–”

He cuts off whatever rebuttal she was about to provide. “What if we’re in the same reality, but switching who is able to remember each time we kiss.”

“Somehow a switching time loop is more believable, and I hate you for it.”

“So what do we… do about it?” He asks.

“What does the Leap Day Lovers lore say?”

“You think we’re the Leap Day Lovers?”

“You suggested it!” She defends.

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes you–” She pauses. “Maybe it was…”

“Last time.” Mulder finishes for her.

Scully rubs a hand across her forehead. “Damnit, this is getting confusing.”

“They aren’t specific about how they broke it, just that solving their relationship issues got them out of it.”

“So how do we… do that? I mean, clearly we’ve discussed it, so that’s not going to help.” Scully tilts her head, considering. “Maybe we just need to have sex.”

Mulder goes red. “Uhh.”

“What?”

“I feel like that might’ve… already happened. A little bit.”

Scully’s eyebrows shoot to her forehead, indignant. “You fucked me in the time loop?”

“Technically, you started it, so I would say you fucked me in the time loop. Not that I was going to complain.”

“And how is that, if I can’t even remember it?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember the details now either! I just know you started it.”

Scully rolls her eyes.

“But I don’t think we, uh, got all the way there, if you know what I mean. Hit the home run. So maybe if we do, that will resolve it.”

“Alright Mulder.” Scully looks up at him through her eyelashes. “Let’s fuck. Yours or mine?”

***

They end up at Mulder’s apartment. As soon as they enter, Scully presses him against the door and kisses his jaw, carefully avoiding his lips. She wants to follow through with this, and not be reset halfway through because one of them got too caught up in the moment and kissed the other directly on the mouth.

Mulder’s head tilts up, bearing his neck to Scully as she kisses her way down towards his collar. Her hands work at the buttons of his dress shirt, freeing up more space to kiss. If she can’t have his lips, she's going to claim as much of his skin as she can. He holds her body as close as possible to his own while still allowing her enough space to remove his clothes.

She sinks her teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulder, and Mulder gasps. When he says her name, he’s breathless.

He’s down to his undershirt when Scully grabs him by the belt buckle and pulls him off the door. He’s not entirely sure his legs will carry him, but they do, all the way to the couch, where Scully suavely whips the belt out of its loops and tosses it away.

She kneels between his legs and places her hand on his cock where it tents his pants. When she squeezes, he lets out a punched-out sound and just barely manages not to come on the spot.

She kisses him atop his pants, hands working the button out of its hole, and he gently pushes her back by her shoulder. “Scully, wait.” Her eyes drift back up to meet his. “That might not be the most… strategic move. For right now.”

A single brow lifts and Scully smirks, cocky. “Oh?”

“Well the end goal is for me to fuck you, right?”

“Yes.”

“If your mouth gets any closer to my dick, we aren’t going to make it there.”

She hums. “What a shame. Another time.” She places a hand on his shoulder and guides him to lay across the couch.

“Uh-huh.” Mulder agrees, brain mush at the thought of a repeat act.

Scully divests herself of her clothes and straddles him, rubbing the tip of his dick along her pussy. Mulder grunts, sounding punched-out.

“Scully, please. Please.”

She lets out a satisfied hum and lowers slightly, letting the tip of him just inside her.

“Scully. Scully.” Mulder reveres, begs, needs. She lowers more, dragging it out to tease him.

When he’s sat fully inside her, Scully lets out a groan of her own, and falls forward slightly . She catches herself with a hand on Mulder’s chest. When she finally, finally lifts her eyes back to his, she lifts and falls again.

When she’s close, Scully’s abdominal muscles flex and she doubles over, leaning down towards Mulder, leaving her lips just barely a hair’s breadth from his. She needs a little more stimulation, just a touch.

As if he could sense her thoughts, Mulder groans and bucks up into her, hitting her clit just right. Scully seizes and grids down onto him, desperate for the friction to carry through her orgasm.

Mulder is looking at her lips, and he’s leaning up to kiss her as she’s coming undone on his cock. There’s so much admiration in his eyes, so much love, so much desire, she can’t deny him kissing her while she comes. She can barely kiss him back, lost in the sensation, but her lips are on his, and it’s perfect.

Until she wakes up. In her own bed, not Mulder’s apartment.

The first thing she processes is the alarm clock, no longer mocking her with a bright red 6:32. Instead, 4:17 blinks into 4:18 before her. Oh, thank God.

The second thing she processes is the sound of the front door clicking open.

***

He kissed her. He’s still on his back on the couch, but the daylight is no longer streaming through the window and lighting up Scully’s bare skin, because Scully is no longer here. It’s dark. Without checking his watch, he knows it’s around 4am.

He puts on the crumpled jeans from February 28th that have been sitting on his floor as long as he’s been in this damn time loop. He’s put on a suit for work every February 29th that he’s lived through, but he’s not going to work now. He’s going to Scully’s.

She steps out of her bedroom as he steps into her kitchen.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to wake up and see the clock say it’s four in the morning, Mulder,” she greets, rubbing her eye.

“You remember?” He asks.

She nods. “Leap day. Philtrum. You fucked me in the time loop.”

“I did not– okay, well I did last time. But before that, you fucked me.”

“Sure, Mulder, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Thinking about it does not, in fact, help him sleep. It has the opposite effect.

“It didn’t work.”

“No, it didn’t.” She sighs and switches the coffee pot on. Instead of turning back around to face her partner, she braces her arms on the counter, leaning over the coffee pot as if breathing in the fumes will get the caffeine into her bloodstream faster.

“So what do we do?”

“More research.” She does turn around now, leaning back against the counter with her arms crossed. “Have you reached out to any of the previous Lovers to try and get their stories? See what specifically they did to make the time loop stop?”

“I emailed some, but never heard back.”

“Then we reach out to the Gunmen to get more info on them, and track them down, and go to Skinner and explain what we can without risking getting separated by the Bureau, and investigate it officially. We may restart, but if we are both remembering our respective loops now, hopefully that means we’ve stopped switching for good and will retain our memories, and keep working on it. The only issue is if we need to travel, because we’ll get sent back to our own apartments when it restarts.”

Mulder knows he's looking at her with starry eyes, but he can’t help it. She’s so damn smart, she’s planned the whole thing out half asleep and in the three minutes he’s been in her apartment. So really, when he leans in to kiss her, he can’t be held responsible. He can’t help it.

***

This time, when Scully wakes earlier she has grown accustomed to, it’s to Mulder climbing into bed beside her. She shifts over to make room for him, throws an arm over his side, and settles her head on his chest.

“You kissed me again.” She says, voice rough and tired.

“I did. I couldn’t help myself.” He gives a huff of a laugh and smiles guiltily. “I’m glad we can both remember now, though.”

“Do you think we’ll get the memories of our separate experiences? That they’ll all come back to us?”

“I don’t know, Scully. The accounts from the Leap Day Lovers make it sound like they’re on the same page, so I hope so.”

She nods, and presses closer to him. “We should get up. Start researching.”

“I already called the Gunmen, they’re on it. I think we’ve earned some rest.” He kisses her forehead, a safe spot. “Go back to sleep, Scully.”

She hums, and does just that.

***

A couple hours later, the Gunmen are still digging into information on the previous Leap Day Lovers with no clear leads yet. When 9am hits, Mulder and Scully stand outside Skinner’s door.

“How do we even start to explain this, Mulder.”

“I don’t know. I mean, I proved it to you by making you watch that guy laugh at the sex walks sign and his dog glare at him, we could bring him out there and make him watch that?”

“I think that only worked for me because I had been looking already. Skinner might think we’re pulling his leg and told the guy to do that.”

“Well, do you have any better ideas?”

Scully sighs, “No, I don’t. So I guess we’ll go with that.”

“Alright.” Mulder pauses, bracing himself. “Let’s do this, Scully.” He grabs the doorknob and boldly turns it.

What the door reveals, no one could expect. Not in a million years.

Because Alex fucking Krycek is sat in Skinner’s chair, slumped face down over the desk. The back of his skull has been transformed into something akin to a bloody pudding bowl.

“Mulder?”

“Yes, Scully?”

“Maybe this isn’t… our time loop.”

“I think you might be right.”

#warning it is LONG #LTW: X-File 02291996 #LTWrites #the x files #.txt #fics

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harrisonarchive · 6 months

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Footage from an interview for MTV, December 1988.

Song spotlight: “End Of The Line” — “I loved End Of The Line. I remember the day [George] wrote it. He had started it off on the piano. And we all kind of sat in a group. His enthusiasm was very contagious.” - Tom Petty, Rolling Stone, January 17, 2002 “[Roy’s] funeral was only about a day before the [‘End Of The Line’] video. But we just tried to go on and hope that we did him justice. And it turned out to be a curious song for the next single, you know, ‘the end of the line.’ But I think it — you write these songs and then it’s funny how events come down, and later on when you hear the song it can mean so much more than when you were writing it.” - Tom Petty, BBC Radio 2 “Sort of like Carl Perkins says on a lot of his songs, ‘Well, it’s alright.’ If you’re gonna be an optimist then it’s gotta be alright. If you happen to be a peg-legged old pirate who’s trying to make a Wilbury album, it’s still alright.” - George Harrison, Genesis Publications “I’m seven years younger than them. They’re like my older brothers. I was telling a friend of mine the other day how odd it is that I never sought out any of those people, any of my heroes. Somehow the ones that really matter to me, I got to become really good friends with. It’s embarrassing. I never mention my friends to people because they think I’m bragging, but it is kind of cool. And I’ve always been upfront with them about how cool I think it is. They’ve been a big help to me in many ways. Especially George because he’s been through all this. I don’t have an older brother, and he’s always been there to advise me” - Tom Petty, Mojo, May 1999 “George was the kind of guy who wasn't going to leave until he hugged you for five minutes and told you how much he loved you. We knew where we stood with each other.” - Tom Petty, Rolling Stone, January 17, 2002 (x)

#George Harrison #Tom Petty #Jeff Lynne #Roy Orbison #Bob Dylan #quote #quotes about George #quotes by George #Harrison songwriting #The Traveling Wilburys #Traveling Wilburys #1988 #1980s #George and Tom Petty #George and Jeff Lynne #George and Roy Orbison #George and Bob Dylan #End Of The Line #fits queue like a glove

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hopepetal · 1 year

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Well... here it is. The epilogue of my boatem knights au fic! I have a few things to say/thanks to give before we move on to the actual fic.

This is my most popular series ever. Over the course of writing this I have learned so much, gained so many new friends, and had some of the best experiences of my life. I have been treated with such kindness and enthusiasm from the community that I have never gotten in any other community I have been in before, and it's blown me away. You all are the reason I continued writing, even as my life became hectic and my schedule became packed.

I'd like to give thanks to @applestruda for creating this au and letting me write this fic. Bee, you are amazing. I always get so excited whenever I see you around, and your ideas are so, so cool. You are so amazing and kind and you deserve all the kindness in the world. Love you Bee <3

Next, @stiffyck. Where would I be without you? I have been yelling at you in dms for the longest time, and you always match my enthusiasm, yelling right back at twice the volume. You are so fun to bounce ideas off of, and it's always great to meet people you mesh well with. Thank you for being such an avid supporter <3

And @beeboppo, because seeing your little phone drawings in my inbox always make my day. You are so funny and kind and I'm so happy I get to know you. Creating things with you is always so fun, and you always have so many ideas and thoughts. Much love <3 I appreciate you

Alright!! Now onto the fic!!

Masterlist

Scar woke slowly from a deep darkness that weighed him down, slowing his movements and his thoughts. Yawning, he brought his hands up to rub his face with his eyes still closed, stretching his arms above his head before finally opening his eyes. The first thing he noticed was Grian, sitting in a chair next to his bed. It seemed like the avian had fallen asleep on the side of Scar’s bed, resting his head on his arms as he snored softly.

As Scar blinked away the last tendrils of sleep, trying to reorient himself, he began to feel all the aches and pains that he associated with the day after an extreme workout. He felt like he had run five miles in a full on sprint, exhaustion weighing his limbs down along with the painful soreness that pulsed in his entire body. Gazing around the room, he noticed the large window next to his bed that allowed sunlight to stream in. Judging by the light level, it was almost sundown.

Glancing down, Scar noticed that he had bandages wrapped around his arms and judging by the feel, around his neck as well. He recalled how one of their captors- gosh, he had already forgotten their names- had held a sword to his throat in order to threaten him. That had led to Scar going feral and-

He inhaled sharply, hands clenching into fists as memories came crashing into him like a tidal wave. He recalled the taste of blood, the endless rage that had pushed him to brutally slaughter those who had dared to hurt him and his friend. He remembered the screams, the sounds of death all around him, and then the faint sound of Grian’s voice calling out to him through the rage that had consumed him.

A soft mumble pulled Scar out of his thoughts, and he glanced down to see Grian shift before slowly blinking his eyes open. Light brown curls fell in front of his dark eyes as the avian slowly sat up, yawning. Scar noticed how he had changed into a comfortable red shirt and grey pants, an improvement from those scratchy green robes they had been forced to wear by that stupid mercenary. “You pull that off a lot better than you do the half naked and dying look, I think,” he joked, his voice quiet and rasping from disuse.

A sleepy smile broke out on Grian’s face, though his eyes were filled with a sad kind of gentleness. “Hi, Scar.” He reached out to take Scar’s hand in his own, a hurt expression briefly flashing across his face when the other jerked away before he carefully put up a front of unbothered neutrality. “How are you feeling?”

Scar immediately began mentally cursing himself upon seeing Grian’s hurt expression. He hadn’t meant to reject the other knight so harshly, but he had been worried that he’d hurt Grian by accident, again. Nevertheless, he gave Grian a bright smile, trying to cover up those pesky emotions. “You know, my good man, I could be better! But hey, I'm here, I'm awake, it's a beautiful day, so there's that!” Oh, he was so trying to dodge the question. And Grian absolutely knew this, Scar could tell by the slight furrow in his brow.

Grian stood, and for a moment Scar was afraid that he had really goofed it now, that Grian was going to leave and never return, but all the avian said was, “I’m going to go tell the others you’re awake.” He began to walk to the door before turning back briefly, hand on the doorframe. “Are you okay with that?”

Scar nodded, and watched as Grian slipped out of the room. He barely had any time to get lost in thought before Grian walked back in, followed by Mumbo, Impulse, and Pearl. Immediately, Mumbo and Impulse began to scold him with all the air of two worried fathers, while Grian and Pearl watched from a little behind the two. It was pretty obvious that Mumbo was crying, despite the man arguing that he was not, there was just something in his eyes, he was absolutely not full on sobbing. Scar kept insisting that he was alright, sending glances toward Pearl and Grian every so often in a cry for help, only getting smirks in return. Traitors…

Once Impulse and Mumbo were finished going full-on dad mode, Pearl stepped forward and took the seat Grian had previously been sitting in. “You alright to give us a moment alone, boys?” she asked, and with a soft murmur of agreement the other three knights left the room, Grian hesitating for a moment before following and closing the door behind him. Once they had all left the room, Pearl sighed. The smile on her face dropped as she leaned forward, hands clasped in her lap. “Scar,” she began, “you are one of the strongest people I know.”

Scar chuckled slightly, trying to ward off the tension that had grown in the room from the sudden mood shift. “Thanks. Still haven’t beaten you at arm wrestling, though.” The attempt at humor was mostly to relieve that pressure in his chest brought on by anxiety.

Pearl cracked a smile. “That’s not what I meant, you goof.” Back to the more serious tone. “You are strong, Scar. You let yourself get captured.” She sat back, sighing quietly. “Why?”

Scar felt his heart sink, feeling as though there was a pit in his stomach. He turned his head away, trying to avoid eye contact. “I…” his voice cracked, and with it, his constitution crumbled. He couldn’t lie to Pearl. No one could. With a trembling voice and hands, he continued. “I hurt Grian. I hurt him really badly because of my- because of my stupid vex form and those stupid vex instincts and then if that wasn’t bad enough I went and got us both kidnapped-”

“Hey.” Pearl cut him off, placing a hand on his arm. “Do you wanna know something about me that I haven’t told anyone else here?” She gave Scar a tight smile, something akin to regret in her eyes. “I’ve hurt Grian before.”

Scar couldn’t help it. His eyes widened in shock. Pearl clearly noticed, because she let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. Stabbed him with a sword. We were young and sparring, and, well, I underestimated my own strength. He has a scar on his leg from the incident.” She sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I felt terrible when it happened. Swore to never pick up a sword again, can you imagine?” She gave Scar a wry smile, and Scar found that he couldn't imagine that. Pearl as anything but a knight was just... not possible. “Right? You see what I’m talking about. Eventually, Grian beat some sense into me. Not literally,” she clarified, seeing the look on Scar’s face, “I mean that he talked to me. We spoke about everything and worked it out. And now here we are.”

“Here we are,” Scar echoed faintly, his voice sounding far away. He wondered if things could really be the same for him and Grian. After all, not only had he almost killed the avian, but he had also gotten them both kidnapped, sick, and humiliated. Surely there was a difference. He really doubted his mistakes could be fixed with a little chit-chat.

“Hey.” Pearl interrupted, shaking Scar out of his spiraling thoughts, “I know what's going on in there.” She tapped her head with a finger, smiling gently. “I’ve been there before. Tell you what- how about I go get Grian back in here and we talk. Does that sound good?”

Scar nodded wordlessly, worried that if he answered the tears he was holding back would spill over. He didn’t deserve to cry or feel bad for himself. He was the one at fault here, he was the one holding everyone back. Noticing Pearl had left the room, Scar began to really panic. Oh gosh, what if Grian hated him? What if, what if-

Pearl reentered the room, pulling Grian along with her. Scar snapped out of his thoughts once more as Grian pulled up a second chair and sat down in it, Pearl sitting next to him. Grian was smiling at him, Scar noted, and bitterly wondered what he had done to deserve it.

Pearl clapped her hands together, startling Scar. He laughed and put his hands over his heart as though he had been actually terrified. “Right- sorry Scar- time to talk!”

And before he knew it, Scar was rambling, avoiding eye contact with Grian at all costs. “I know it's all my fault and I'm so incredibly sorry, I know you must be furious at me because I didn't only hurt you but I got us kidnapped too and they almost took your wings and it was so humiliating and then-”

“Scar.”

“And I understand if you want to kick me out from the knights I don't deserve it anyway and I'm so sorry that I was a burden and-”

“Scar.”

“-I'm sorry you've had to put up with me for so long and-”

“SCAR!”

Scar shut up.

Grian reached out and carefully took one of Scar’s hands in his own, as though he were afraid Scar was going to pull away again. Tenderly, he stroked the back of Scar’s hand with his thumb, smiling softly. “You made a mistake, Scar,” he admitted gently, eyes sorrowful.

Scar’s heart dropped into his stomach, and he looked away. This was it then. The moment where he got kicked out of the knights, out of the only family he had known for the longest time. It had been amazing while it had lasted, at least…

Grian continued. “That mistake was pushing us away when you needed us the most.”

Scar froze, looking up at Grian. Green eyes met dark ones, both shining with held back tears. “What?” he whispered, afraid of being too loud.

“Scar…” Grian gazed at him, and his eyes were every part compassion and love. “I forgive you.”

The dam broke.

Scar let out a heartbreaking wail, the tears beginning to flow as he sobbed. He felt himself pull Grian close, hugging him tightly and gasping out ‘thank you’s in between sobs. Grian’s arms wrapped around him, offering a comfort he had so desperately longed for during the past few days.

Later, Scar would follow Pearl and Grian out of the small room, eyes red and puffy but with a small smile on his face. They would all talk and laugh, before heading outside to spend the night under the stars, swapping tales and singing songs. Scar would be surrounded by his friends and their love for him, and would fall asleep long after the sound of crickets became the loudest thing around.

But for now, Scar would cry, and that was okay.

#my writing #boatem knights au #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft au #boatem fanfic #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #scar #grian #pearlescentmoon #pearl #mumbo jumbo #impulse #angst #hurt/comfort #welp. it's been an honor everyone o7 #i'm so sad it's over gjfgh #this series is my baby

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shelbgrey · 10 months

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Adventures in babysitting(Squinterns)

Paring: wife!Reader x Lance Sweets, Oc!Child x squinterns

Summary: not really an 'x reader' just the Squinterns having to watch Lance and y/n's daughter while they go an unexpected case.

A/n: AU where Vincent didn't die. the beginning of this sucks but it gets a bit better, I just had this idea but didn't know how to start it.

Master List

“mama look! a Firetruck” Charlotte smiled from the back set of the car, she hugged her stuffed penguin tight as watched on of her favorite vehicle pass by.

Y/n smiled at her daughters knew obsession that was firetruck, last week it was helicopters.

“yeah, isn't it cool” y/n smiled.

“maybe we have a future firefighter on our hands” her husband Lance smiled.

Y/n's eyes widened as she thought about her precious daughter in dangers line of work.

“I want to find skullys like Aunty Bones n mama” Charlotte said.

Y/n smiled at her daughter then looked at Lance as he continued to drive towrds the Museum that was connected to the jeffersonian. It was the first time in a while they both had the day off and the whole family was just a little too restless to stay home.

“I have to stop by my office first and give Cam a file though” y/n responded. Lance nodded. “okay”

“you wanna go see mommy's work?” Lance smiled.

“yeah!” she smiled as Lance let out a chuckle at his daughter's enthusiasm.

Once they got to the jeffersonian y/n carried Charlotte in her arms as she walked into the lab. Charlotte eyes wondered as her mother carried her around. The little girl was always amazed by the lab.

After she got what she wanted from the lab and gave Cam the file, Lance's phone rang.

“Hey Booth...” he said.

Lance let out a sigh, meaning Booth probably need us. He looked at his two favorite girls with disappointment as he hung up.

“what's up?” I asked.

“Booth neeeds us to Interrogate a few people and then you need to look at some remains at the crime scene with Brennan”

Y/n sighed and looked around. “one normal day... That's all I ask”

Lance nodded and gave her a quick kiss on her lips. Charlotte giggled making Lance smile, he quickly kissed his daughter's forehead.

“what are we gonna do about Charlie? The sitter is out of town for the weekend and I don't know about Arastoo” y/n said as see looked around the lab.

Charlotte, who didn't know what was going on, ignored her parents panic and played with the necklace around her mom's neck.

“don't panic... I'll head over to Bureau and get things sorted out, maybe you can drop Charlie off with Angies' dad, I know he's babysitting Michael Vincent today” Lance said. His wife nodded as they kissed each other good-bye

Y/n let out a sigh, as mush as she loved her brother's father-in-law she just didn't want to dump another baby on him unexpectedly.

“what's wrong mama? Are we gonna go see the pictures?” Charlotte asked.

“maybe later baby, mama and daddy have to work now” she looked around the half empty lab then stopped when she saw her favorite Squintern.

“Fisher!” she walked towrds him just as he clocked in. Before he could even say 'hello' y/n put Charlotte in his hands.

“Fishy!” she smiled as Fisher held the child out confuse. The little girl's feet dnagled as he held her like a child would an over sized doll. “wha-”

“I need you to watch Charlotte just for a bit, please Fisher” y/n pleaded. Fisher honestly couldn't say no, not because she was indeed his boss, but because he genuinely liked her and her family. Y/n Sweets or 'Lady Sweets' as she's referred to at work was the only one who saw Fisher as more than a depressed, Gothic Squint.

“but-”

“thanks Fisher, I owe you one!” she called out and left the building before he could protest, even if he got the chance he wouldn't but he just didn't know how to interact with kids.

“Fishy” Charlotte smiled as she dubbed over in his arms. “Fisher... And don't do that” he said pulling her back up and wrapping both arms around the small child so she was secure to his chest.

“ummm.....” Fisher said, confused on what to do. He jogged into the lab, the movement made Charlotte giggle. He set his boss' daughter on one of the examination tables.

“play with this” he said handding her the small flashlight that was in his breast pocket. She turned it on and pointed it at the stuffed penguin she brought, after awhile she started waving it around making bright light fly everywhere.

“ah” Fisher said in a very monotone voice as the light hit his eyes. “okay never mind” as he took and put it back in his pocket, he picked up the penguin and put in her arms so she wouldn't feel the loss of the flashlight.

“stay there” he said after the Computer dinged, he turned his back to her for a second. The little girl watched him move around and started to follow him not realizing she was still on a high table.

Fisher didn't relize it and Charlotte almost walked off the edge. “woah Charlie” Arastoo yelled and quickly grabed the three year old before she fell off what looked like a cliff to someone her size.

Fisher quickly whipped around with a panicked look. “sorry Charlotte” he said coming up to the little girl that was now in tan interns arms.

“unca asteroid!” the little girl smiled, she could never pronounce his name properly so it was always 'asteroid'.

“what is Lady Sweets' Daughter doing here?” Arastoo asked, adjusting the little girl to one arm. “she never let's her in the Lab unless she here”

“Lady Sweets and... Dr. Sweets got pulled into unexpected investigation and was deemed soul protector of this tiny life force for the time being” Fisher explained.

Arastoo and Charlotte gave him weired looks. “so your babysetting” Arastoo said simply, Charlotte who now under stood nodded quickly. Fisher shook his head and turned back to his computer as the security system dinged.

“Fishy!” Charlotte cheekily smiled as Fisher turned his back. “what's baby sweets doing here?” Wendell asked as him and Vincent walked in.

“and what are the rest of you doing here?” Fisher asked. Wendell smiled as Charlotte waved at him.

“Dr. Brennan required us to examine some century old remains while she's away” Vincent said as he walked up next to Arastoo. Charlotte smiled and reached for Vincent. The British Squintern smiled and shook her little hand. “hello little one”

“I'm guessing I'm out of this project” Fisher sighed as he closed a few tabs on his computer. Arastoo gave him a questioning look. “Fisher, when was the last time you actually watched a child?”

“well, both Sweets are very protective of Charlie, you must be doing something right for her to trust you” Wendell said.

“you here to work on the Bones too?” Vincent asked Wendell. He shook his head no. “actually im here to take over for Hodgins while he's in Seattle with Brennan and Angela.”

“I'll help if you like” Wendell added.

“just give the child back” Fisher sighed and held his arms out to Arastoo.

“we can help out with Charlie” Arastoo said as he set Charlotte on the one of the wheely chairs and spung her around. She giggled making the the young guys look at her in aw.

“we can take shifts, one of us can watch her while the others look at the Bones for Dr. Brennan” Wendell suggests, everyone agreed suprisenly.

“will Abernathy and Edison be joining us?” Vincent asks, the other men shrugged not sure who all Dr. Brennan had hired.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“please tell me that's one of the fake skulls” Edison said coming into y/n's office with a file.

Edison watched Charlotte play with the jaw and mouth of the plastic skull without a care in the world. She tossed it up then crawled after it. She quickly forget about it and ran towrds Arastoo as he entered the office as well.

“of corse it's fake” Fisher said rolling his eyes as he stood up from the ground. “did you guys find anything?” he asked.

“not really, Abernathy came by while you were in here and is helping out” Arastoo said picking Charlotte up and holding her on his hip.

Fisher let out a depressed sigh. “I see I've already been replaced”

“I wouldn't say that, you have the most important job today” Arastoo smiled as Charlotte stuck her toung out.

“her laughter dose sofen the stonyest of hearts” Fisher said.

“why she here in the first place?” Edison asked trying to remain professional but also not let his heart melt at the sight of the little girl.

“Lady Sweets got called into a crime Scene last minute” Arastoo said.

“unca asteroid... I'm hungry” Charlotte said looking up at Arastoo. Wendell walked in hearing the conversation. “I can get McDonald's... Anybody want anything?”

“can I have some nuggies? Pweez” she said giving all the male Squinterns puppy eye. “I'll go get it Charlie” Wendell smiled and ruffled her curly hair.

“chicken nuggets for the little lady” Wendell said emptying out the bag as Arastoo tried to get cartoons on the screen Angela installed in y/n's office.

“do any of you know how this works?” Arastoo asked. Wendell set down Charlotte's french frys and grabed the controler from Arastoo. “it's just like Angela's, I got this”

Wendell logged into the screen then turned on Hulu. “she likes Regular Show” Arastoo said as he took the controller and typed in the show.

“Did you know the average American eats almost 30 pounds of French fries a year?” Vincent said as he sat on the floor next to Charlotte to eat his fries.

He then turned to Charlotte. “we call these chips from where I'm from” he told the small girl.

“cool” she laughed.

“here ya go honey” Finn smiled giving her a small milkshake.

Once the show was set up and the food was out, it was technically the Squintern's lunch break, so they all(aside from Edison) filed into y/n's office to watch Cartoons and eat.

The commotion and child like giggles made Cam walk into what was supposed to be y/n's empty office.

“Hi honey” Arastoo said nervously as he waved at his fiance.

“hi Aunty cam!” Charlotte waved from her spot in Arastoo's lap.

“what are you guys doing?” she gave them a strange look as they all froze like deers in a pair of head lights, the only one who wasn't affected was Charlotte, who continued to eat her chicken nuggets.

“babysitting” Fisher said.

“on our lunch break” Wendell added quickly.

She sighed and walked out of the room, not wanting to get into it after she saw the bizarre cartoon. “ya know... don't want to know, carry on”

“bye Cam!” Charlotte shouted as the doctor left.

After lunch the Squinterns basically took turns taking care of the small child, while one was exmaing the century year old bones the other one was intertaning Charlotte.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“where could she be” Abernathy looked around the lab. He stoped at one of the tables then tried to jump scare Charlotte. “I gottcha!” he looked at her favorite hiding spot but she wasn't there. “hmm”

He looked around, moving chairs and files around, trying to find the little girl's hiding spot. This cought Edison's attention, he didn't really want to get involved with the little girl, but that didn't stop him from being curious.

“what are you doing Abernathy?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the skull he was examining. Abernathy peaked under one of the examination tables then back at Edison. “playin' hide-n-seek with Little Charlie” he smiled like it was the best thing that ever happened to him.

“she’s Slicker Than Pig Snot on a Radiator” Abernathy said as he looked around the lab some more. Edison looked up annoyed. “she's a good hider or you lost her?”

Abernathy sighed and gave him a 'really?' look. “look, I didn' loose her... I have a kid sister, I know how to take care of a kid”

Edison looked up and watched the little girl run into Cam's office to hide under her desk. He watched the little girl quickly run back to the threshold beacuse she dripped her blue penguin plush, before Abernathy could see she ran under the desk.

“she's over yonder” Edison said in a terrible Southern accent.

“Aw man!” Charlotte wined as she heard Edison give out her hiding spot. She came out hugging her penguin.

“that's not nice” Charlotte grumbled, they didn't know if she was talking about cheating or the fact Edison was making fun of Abernathy's slang. She was talking about both.

“well, you won little lady, I couldn't find ya” Abernathy shrugged with a smile. Charlotte smiled up at Abernathy as he called for Arastoo, it was his turn and Abernathy had to help Edison for a bit.

Arastoo glady took his tern next, he had Charlotte on his back, running around with his arms out while making airplane noise.

“to infinity and beyond” Charlotte giggled as Arastoo ran past Cam's office. She of course saw and scolded them as her motherly instincts started to show.

“please don't run in the Lab! One of you might get hurt” she sighed. Arastoo stoped, making his shoes squeek on the shiny floor. Charlotte rested her chin on Arastoo's shoulder and gave Cam puppy eyes. “aw”

Arastoo gave his fiance a sarcastic pouty face like Charlotte's real one. “aw” he repeated.

She rolled her eyes and gave Arastoo a quick kiss. Charlotte giggled and made fake kissy noises. Cam laughed at the little girl she considered her niece, she kissed the little girl on her cheek and went back into her office.

“have you heard from Sweets or Y/n?” he asked before came went into her office. “they should be back soon” cam respond.

Arastoo nodded as Charlotte let out a yawn then rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck so she wouldn't fall off.

Cam tilted her head and smiled softly. “she looks tired”

He turned his head so he could see the sleepy child. “I'll take her to y/n's office, so she can nap”

As Arastoo walked into y/n's office Fisher came into with his lab coat off. “well I'm done for the day... With the remains that is”

“that's good” Arastoo said gently setting Charlotte on the couch in her mother's office and used his lab coat as a blanket for her.

“you can go if you like, I'll stay with her while Cam dose some last minute paper work” Arastoo said setting on the couch next to her.

Fisher shook his head. “no, lady Sweets truted me, so I should do my share”

“she's not going anywhere... She sleeps like a rock” Arastoo said as Fisher made his spot on the ground infront of the couch.

Y/n and Lance came in about an hour and half later with a soft smile. Lance gently picked up his daughter while she remained fast asleep.

“thank for watching her guys, I know you weren't expecting to spend your day like this” y/n smiled.

Fisher shrugged. “it was quite interesting... It wasn't hard to intertaning ourselves”

“and I had some help...” Fisher added.

“little angel like always” Arastoo added with a smile as Cam walked in with her coat. “ready to go?” she asks softly so she didn't wake up Charlotte.

“yup, good night guys” he smiled and left with Cam. “night” Lance said holding his sleeping daughter close.

“thanks again guys” y/n waved at the other Squinterns as her and her family left the Jeffersonian, the tired parents thankful their little ball of energy will sleep well tonight.

#Squinterns #Bones #Bones imagines #Colin fisher #Wendell Bray #Finn Abernathy #Arastoo Vaziri #Lance Sweets x reader

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