#fanfic redux | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cutielando · 6 months

Text

world champion ~ max verstappen

Summary: You've been by Max's side since his early days in the business, and now he finally achieves his dream with you by his side.

Words: 1.0k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Ever since he started in Formula 1, the biggest dream Max had was becoming a World Champion. Signing with Red Bull was the first step towards making his dream come true.

Having you by his side was the second thing he needed.

His family couldn't come at every single race that he had, having their own lives and work prevented them from being able to fly out to the numerous countries that he found himself in every week.

But you had a very flexible job, you had your own little business and could essentially work from your laptop from anywhere you were, which was why you had never missed a race since Max started in F1.

He always joked with Christian in calling you his lucky charm.

The season had been going well for him, he'd won numerous races and was now tied with Charles Leclerc in the Championship standings. But you knew he could do it, you could feel the win coming.

"I'm going crazy" he told you the night before the race that would essentially decide who the champion is.

The famous Yas Marina circuit in Abu Dhabi.

"Stop stressing, you're going to give yourself wrinkles if you stress so much" you called out from the hotel bathroom where you were doing your skincare routine before bed.

"How can I not be stressed? My career is essentially on the line. Everything relies on what happens tomorrow, I can't let everyone down and not win" he said, his voice quiet and somber.

You finished doing your skincare routine and exited the bathroom, joining him on the king sized bed and wrapping your arms around him.

He buried his face in your chest and held onto you tightly, your arms being the only comfort for his nerves before every single race.

"Nobody is going to hate you or judge you if you don't win. Everybody is going to be proud of you for being able to be at the top for the entire season. I'm proud of you, Max, and I'll be proud of you regardless if you finish in first or last place. Don't beat yourself up if things don't go your way tomorrow, there is always next year and we're all going to be there for you, no matter what" you explained, kissing the top of his head as a confirmation that you were there and will always be by his side, no matter the results.

"You really mean that?" his voice was timid, but you could feel his muscles starting to relax under your touch.

"Of course I do. You don't have to put this kind of pressure on yourself. You're not doing this for the fans or for your family or for me, you're only doing this for yourself. Just go out there and drive your best and let the results come to you if it's meant to be"

He nodded and squeezed you tighter.

"I love you, so damn much" he mumbled, kissing your clothes chest and settling back down against you.

"I love you too, baby" you whispered and started running your hand up and down his back, knowing it was one of his favorite things.

As minutes went by, his breath started to slow down, indicating that he had fallen asleep. You smiled and placed a final kiss on his forehead before getting comfortable to go to sleep yourself, excited for what tomorrow would bring.

♡♡♡♡♡

The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage was exhilarating. For Christian and all the engineers, Max was already the World Champion.

Nothing could ruin their mood that morning, and the same could be said about you.

"How are you feeling?" you asked your boyfriend as he started getting ready to go in the car.

"Still nervous, but not as much as before. What happens, happens. I'll give it my best and we'll see" he said and gave you a sincere smile, reassuring you that he was okay.

"Good luck, baby. I love you, please be safe" you said and leaned up to kiss his lips before he'd have to put on his balaclava and helmet.

"I will. I love you too"

He departed after that, going over last-minute strategies with his engineers and making sure the car was ready for battle.

Once the mechanics rolled him out of the garage and onto the track, you took a seat next to his race engineer, who immediately gave you a pair of headphones.

"How's our boy?" he asked you, a warm smile on his face.

You and Gianpiero had a close relationship ever since he started working with Max, frequently exchanging thoughts and opinions before and after every race.

Sure, you didn't have the whole technical knowledge perfected yet, but you knew your way around the sport and strategies and everything after being with Max for so many years.

"He's nervous, but I know he's going to give it his all. I told him to drive his best and see what happens. Didn't feel like putting more pressure on him than necessary" you explained, earning a nod from the engineer.

"He'll win, I can feel it"

♡♡♡♡♡

And right he was.

Seeing him cross that finish line and checkered flag long before anyone else was like a breath of fresh air. You and Gianpiero jumped up from your seats and hugged each other, your cheeks already full of the tears that were flowing down.

You took your headphones off and make your way out of the garage, impatiently waiting for Max to pull up and get out of the car.

Once you saw his car approaching, you started jumping up and down, feeling happier than you had ever been.

"You did it!!" you screamed once Max got out of the car and enveloped you in his arms.

You didn't even care that he was sweaty and tired, all you could focus on was the fact that he had finally achieved his childhood dream.

"I did it" he sobbed into your shoulder, his arms holding you tightly against his body.

As you stood embraced in the middle of the paddock in your own little bubble, you knew that all of the sleepless nights, the hundred hours of training, the dozens races he's done, his entire hard work has finally paid off.

He was World Champion.

But more importantly, he was your champion.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE

REQUEST HERE

♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list: @outerudeth @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dardouni @saturnssunflower @moony-artemis @blissfulsunsetstuff @samantha-chicago @nikfigueiredo @therealcap @iloveyou3000morgan @daemyratwst @rqlstefanny @bwormie @hangmandruigandmav @kagome45 @enidsinclairaddamsthesecond @tallrock35 @sesamepancakes @boywondrgrayson @evlkking @evie-119 @ijustwanttoreadlols @cixrosie @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @ellouisa17 @paintedbypoetry @hellowgoodbye @lpab @xlinxdax0704 @decafmickey @teti-menchon0604 @ctrlyomomma @sya-skies @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @acidburnsthings @dhanihamidi @mynameisangeloflife @5starl1ght @teamnovalak @ferrarisfailedstrats @basicuniter @jxnellat

452 notes · View notes

watchingyoufromthestars · 5 months

Text

Something I’ve been thinking about that I haven’t seen brought up yet is Scary’s teen fact. That she’s never been to a funeral before Hermie’s. It immediately struck me again how she was given no time to properly grieve Terry passing. Normal had an entire episode going through the stages of grief and laying Hermie to rest. But Scary didn’t get that for Terry. She jumped straight back to breaking the final anchor because what else is she to do? So Terry’s body is still just there. He had no burial or memorial. And at this point would she see it as worth it? To go back once things have settled and find his rotting corpse to give it proper closure? Not just because she’s already visited his spirit in Hell, but would you even want to see that? If the body is still there, it’s not pretty. Would you even want to relive such a horrible memory in such a gruesome display, especially now that she’s back in her own mind?

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads spoilers #dndads season 2 #dndads s2 #scary marlowe #terry jr stampler #terry jr #if Terry ever has something of a funeral it would probably be symbolic and not literal #I had a vision months ago of her writing something for him and reading it at the service #a redux of the one she read right before he went kablam #but I think this kind of scene might live on in fanfic rather than reality

116 notes · View notes

khorazir · 1 year

Text

The third of my four Fandom Trumps Hate 2023 pieces: an illustration for the lovely Angelo’s Redux by @onesmallfamily (72reasons).

And even though it’s two days late, it’s also for April’s @sherlockchallenge: Fire.

#sherlock #sherlock fanart #johnlock #fanfic #onesmallfamily #angelos redux #drawing #ink #watercolour #fandom trumps hate #fth 2023 #john watson #sherlockchallenge

291 notes · View notes

philtstone · 3 months

Text

half wordless, half in elven-tongue

Summary: There is something very practical about Arwen’s ancient and much-powerful grandmother (for an Elf, anyway) that Arwen admires, for she herself has sometimes found it difficult to achieve practicality. Estel, Man though he is, appreciates her fancies very much. He and his poet’s soul. She has spent the last twenty years sharing them with him in her letters, and every response (growing fewer and fewer until these last six months they stopped entirely) has him writing back like one offered water in the desert.

Arwen does not mind; it is not as though she herself has much more sense, climbing into bed with him as she does.

huge shoutout to @firstelevens for reading thru this and telling me it didn't suck despite not really going here. also, a secondary shoutout to @btwxsixesandsevens for gong here even less but inadvertently inspiring the "lover from a story" bit with their (as always) brilliant fic writing. would never have spent 3 weeks agonizing over this otherwise!!!

3rd October, 2952

Mellon,

I’m late writing you for entirely explainable reasons. You will say, not so unusual for you – that is not true, and you are only very over-eager writing me, which should not be as pleasant a revelation as it is – but anyhow, here it is. We’ve had many visitors of late, and my skill was needed in the healing den. Of course, I thought of you (in all Ada’s training I have not read nearly so much about the virtues of athelas as I did skimming your last letter) but I urge you not to worry, as we are all well here and there is no contagious illness. Your presence would have been appreciated though. If not by Ada (he sits in the study sometimes and looks yearningly out the window; I know he is missing you, though he won’t admit to it) than by the poor Dwarf whose stomach could not settle. You were always very good at getting a smile out of even the most stubborn of silly souls.

On that point, how has it been on the frontier of friend-finding? I know you must not be in the Wilds any longer. Given how swiftly we understood each other, I am sure you will have no trouble at all on that front. Send updates soon,

6th February, 2953

Estel,

Is the Angle so very cold as all that? Do not despair at the stiffness of your welcome (or in your bones!). You are still their kindred and that is manifest even in the curve of the characters you write: you love them already, do you not? Do not deny it.

I am very intrigued by your observations on the rouge-wearing practices of your people and cannot help but wonder if it is an exclusively Mannish preference. I certainly do not wear it, but I have seen portraits and I do believe Uncle Elros did. I cannot determine the colour, however, as the portrait is old. Thoughts?

You will see I have many questions today. Your insistence that every Dunedain woman you meet feels akin to a cousin or aunt is terribly amusing (I am almost convinced you are making a joke — are you?). I am sure at least one of them does not reciprocate that sentiment. Are they still wary of you, or very forward now? What is the food like? How many teeth have you broken upon the infamous bread you described? Have you met your grandfather yet? (I remember you were worried about that).

Do not let the cold seep in too much. You must wear warm socks and eat foods that keep the blood warm. I may be an Elf, but my healing arts extend to many races, so you are thus obliged to listen to me.

As for the rest – your people will love you soon as you do them, for such a love as the one you give is easy to return. You are certainly very likeable, at any rate, and I will argue with anyone who disagrees.

Have hope, and be well. All will be as it should.

14th March, 2953

Do not say you listen to me on all fronts, as I have it in writing by your own hand that you have not eaten in three days. In the cold! Foolish man.

25th January, 2956

Elves do not experience such monthly pains, as you well know Estel. Or perhaps you do not, in which case I must chide Ada for thus limiting your training in the healing arts. Childbirth and bearing is a region most important, as I have learned (I can already imagine your blush) from your own mother, with whom I’ve spoken three times since your last letter. I have decided we must become fast friends, and her efforts at formality are altogether poor anyway; her face is as open as yours often is, and it warms me to know whence that quality came.

Anyhow. The blood in your vest. There is clay that runs beneath the bark of some trees that will remove stains made by bodily fluid. Also vinegar, if you are near a homestead.

#my writing #arwen undomiel #aragorn #aragorn x arwen #galadriel #semi-epistolary there was only one bed lothlorien redux is finally here ....#lord of the rings #tolkien #lotr fanfic

47 notes · View notes

atths--twice · 1 year

Text

Five Times Mulder Kissed Scully

Seven years together, there had to be moments where a kiss was needed to express the words that could not be spoken.

I love the little look-ins to their lives, imagining what could have been. To see the tender and caring moments we may have missed. Hope you do too.

1994

The first time was so unexpected, it took a second for Scully to realize it had happened.

In and out of consciousness, she had felt like she was floating. She could hear Mulder, her mom, Missy, doctors and nurses, and the sounds of medical equipment as she fought to make sense of where she was exactly.

Here or there.

Pick one.

It’s not your time, Starbuck.

But I’m so tired…

“Please don’t leave me, Scully,” she had heard Mulder whisper from somewhere far away, desperation in his voice.

It had sounded loud and quiet all at the same time. It had hung around, echoing in her head as she felt pressure on what she knew were her fingers, but she could not squeeze back in response. She had wanted to, but she was unable to make her body do what her mind was demanding.

Then he was gone and it was quiet. So very quiet. Her fingers ached to feel the pressure of his again.

But then, she had come back to the world of the living and he was there, smiling and giving her a silly gift from a blue plastic bag that no one but she and him would understand.

He had left after a quick visit, though she knew he wanted to stay, his eyes saying as much.

When her mother and Missy had gone for the night, he came back, quietly coming into her room and taking her hand.

Fighting hard to stay awake, feeling she had missed so much already, he ran his fingers tenderly across her eyebrows.

“Sleep, Scully. Rest now.”

Unable to argue, sleep calling for her, she nodded as his fingers continued moving so softly, it did not feel real.

When the gentlest kiss she had ever received was pressed to her temple, she wondered if that had been real too.

But when it happened again, as his fingers traced her face and he whispered, she knew it for sure.

“Rest. I’ll be here.”

And she did.

_______________

1995

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Mulder asked as they walked into a motel room, thirty miles away from Dudley, Arkansas.

And away from Chaco Chicken.

“Yeah,” Scully said softly, nodding her head, causing her to wince.

“Wish you would have let the paramedics take a look at you.”

“I just wanted to get away from there,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she thought of the horrors she had seen in the past couple of hours.

“I can take a look at it. You’ve got that first aid kit in your bag, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, opening her eyes as she licked her lips.

“Good. Here, sit down,” he said softly, pulling out a chair and taking off his coat before rummaging through her suitcase.

She sat, staring down at the table and running her finger over a large scratch that was etched into it. The first aid kit was set on the table and her attention was diverted to Mulder’s hands, watching them as he looked through it, searching for the items he would need.

“Okay,” he said, touching her shoulder lightly. “I’ll be right back.”

He went into the bathroom and she heard him washing his hands. Returning quickly, he sat beside her in the other chair.

“This alcohol is going to sting. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, knowing that it would.

Learning forward, she gave him better access to the cut that was causing her head to throb. He pushed her hair back as he exhaled softly and shook his head.

“Okay, here we go.”

He dabbed the alcohol swab gently against her head and she inhaled sharply at the sting it created, gripping her coat in her fists.

“I’m sorry,” he said again and she nodded slightly, knowing that it needed to be done.

When it was clean and she could feel the alcohol cooling her skin, he opened a bandage and looked at her.

“It looks good. Don’t think it will leave a scar.”

“Wonderful,” she said in a monotone voice and he gave her a small smile.

He leaned closer and carefully applied the bandage, making sure it did not stick in her hair. She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling exceedingly tired.

“There,” he whispered and she hummed as his hand moved to her jaw and he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “All done.”

“Thank you,” she said, opening her eyes and letting out a sigh.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered, his thumb still brushing softly. He moved closer and pressed his lips against her bandage. “I thought… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” she breathed, closing her eyes again as she drew in a breath and he nodded, leaving behind a quiet kiss as he pulled back and began to clean up the table.

______________

1996

She was pacing in an autopsy bay as she awaited the arrival of a possible murder victim. She shivered as she paused in her steps, but it was not from feeling cold.

No, the shiver was because of the woman she would be autopsying.

The pictures that had been in her missing persons file had so resembled Missy, she’d had to excuse herself for a few minutes when she first saw them.

Mulder had insisted they needed to find someone else to do the autopsy, but she had gotten upset and refused that suggestion, telling him she was fine.

But she was not fine.

Far from it in fact.

The doors opened and the gurney was pushed into the room. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed hard and stepped forward.

Three hours later, she sat on the bed in her motel room. She had showered and put on a robe, but that was as far as she had gotten. Her hair was wet and slowly dripping onto her robe, but she did not notice.

“Scully? Scully, can you hear me?”

She blinked her eyes and looked around, surprised to see Mulder crouched down in front of her.

“There you are,” he said softly and she frowned at him.

“What?”

“You weren’t answering your phone or the door.”

“I was…” She glanced around again and began to realize that she was not dressed beneath her robe. Pulling it closed tighter, she looked at him. “I… How did you get in here?”

“The manager let me in when you didn’t answer the door,” he said, still in the same soft tone. “Come on, you need to get dressed and dry your hair. ”

“I’m… I’m fine, Mulder,” she said as he helped her to her feet, her body feeling heavy and awkward.

“No, you’re not. Come on.”

“Mulder,” she said, trying to pull her arm from his gentle grasp. “I can… I don’t need you to… I’m fine.” He let go and stood before her as she adjusted her robe again. “I can manage and you don’t… don’t…”

“Scully,” he whispered, sighing softly.

“I’m fine. I just need to get dressed.”

She walked to her suitcase and began to take out her pajamas, fighting against the tears that were threatening to fall. A sob escaped and she cursed internally as she failed to hold back another.

“Scully,” she heard him say again and she turned quickly, falling into him and wrapping her arms around his waist as she cried.

He held her until she had calmed, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“She looked so much like her,” she cried, shaking her head.

“Scully,” he said in a defeated tone.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Or think about it.”

“Okay,” he agreed as she pulled away. Grabbing her pajamas, she walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

When she came out, her hair towel dried, the lights were all off except for the one on the nightstand. The blankets had been pulled back and Mulder stood awkwardly by the dresser.

“I just wanted to be sure you were…”

He did not finish his sentence and she said nothing as she walked to the bed. Lying down and covering herself to her chin, she sniffled as the tears started again.

“I’ll go. Let you-”

“Stay. Please,” she sobbed as she turned her head into her pillow.

He lay behind her, his arm going around her and pulling her close. She turned over and drew further into his embrace, needing more from him.

He held her as she cried, murmuring and stroking her hair. His lips were feather soft as he kissed a path across her forehead, stopping at her temple and sighing.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and she cried, thinking of Missy and how much she missed her.

He pulled her closer and within minutes she had cried herself to sleep, succumbing to the toll of the day.

____________

1997

“Do you want me to get you something to eat? I could go pick it up or we could order in?” he said as they walked into her apartment and he set her bag onto a kitchen chair.

“Honestly,” she said, shaking her head. “I just want to wash the smell of the hospital off of me, maybe burn these clothes, and sleep for hours without any interruptions.” She closed her eyes and hummed with a smile at the thought of sleeping in a dark room without a nurse coming in every few hours. “That will be really nice.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a chuckle and she opened her eyes to look at him.

“I’m not really hungry right now. But if I feel it later, I could make some toast or something. I’m sure there’s bread here at least.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “I’ll let you get to that shower.”

“You could… if you wanted to, I mean… you could stay.”

“If you want me-”

“I mean if you want-”

“It’s up to you-”

“If you’d like to-”

They stopped speaking and stared at each other before they both laughed and shook their heads.

“I’d like you to stay, but it’s up to you,” she said and he nodded.

“I’ll stay.”

“Good,” she said as she smiled back. “Order something, if you want. I’m not entirely sure about the bread now.”

“Yeah. I got it. You go on ahead.”

She walked out of the room and down to the bathroom. Closing the door, she turned on the shower and let it warm up before stepping in with a sigh as the antiseptic smell of the hospital was rinsed from her body.

Two hours later, after watching a movie on the couch, she was exhausted.

“Thank you for, well…” she said, as she walked with him to the door and touched the back of her neck where she had replaced the small bandage that covered the recent incision.

“Yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath and giving her a small smile. “I’m glad it worked.”

“Huh, me too,” she said, chuckling awkwardly as the reality of it not working suddenly seemed to weigh very heavily in the air.

He stared at her for a second and then stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. She closed her eyes as she hugged him back. With her cheek pressed against his chest, she could feel every breath he took and hear his heart beating.

So beautifully alive. Both of them.

He pulled back and smiled at her, his hand going to her neck and softly rubbing the bandage.

“Glad isn’t the right word,” he whispered as he shook his head. “It doesn’t come close to adequately describing how I feel. Knowing that you’re okay, that you’ll continue to be okay…” His thumb rubbed into her hairline and she closed her eyes with a shiver as he pressed his forehead to hers. “The alternative, Scully… I will not ever accept.”

When he pulled back again, he kissed her forehead, temple, and then the corner of her mouth, causing her to draw in a shaky breath.

“Not ever,” he whispered, squeezing her neck gently and then stepping back.

She opened her eyes and he nodded as he opened the door. Smiling, he stepped through and closed it behind him. She exhaled as she locked the door, leaning against it for a few moments, before she went to her room and fell into a dreamless slumber.

________________

2000

“Here are these to finish. And then these ones just need your signature,” she said, handing him a few files.

“You want me to sign something without reading it first?” he asked and she gave him a look.

“Are you insinuating that I haven’t done the paperwork properly?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“Then…”

“I just feel a person should read things first. Or you end up losing something important to you.”

“What?” she asked, thoroughly confused.

“In my case, some very precious comics I recently found.”

“What?” she asked again and he sighed with a pout.

“I told the guys about them, there was a poker game, and Frohike… well… he’s now the happy owner of them.”

“Is comics code for… vintage erotic magazines?”

“No!” he said, looking at her in shock. “You think I’d give him those? Scully…”

She laughed as she shook her head and he smiled with a wink.

“Well, rest assured, this is just paperwork about the case. I’m not betting you anything,” she said as she gathered her things. “Especially those magazines.”

“Your loss,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said sarcastically and rolled her eyes. He smiled and she drew in a breath. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

She watched him as he looked down at the file, waiting for a second, but he did not rise from his desk.

“Bye,” she said, walking to the door and looking back at him.

“Bye.” He waved and she walked out the door, waiting outside of it for a few moments.

“Okay, then,” she said as she turned and continued down the hall and into the elevator.

A couple of hours later, at her mother’s house to celebrate her birthday, she was on her second drink of the evening.

People from church, whom she did not really know, along with some of her mother’s close friends were there, wishing her mother well and laughing at old stories.

The doorbell rang and seeing as no one went to answer it, Scully sighed and walked over to do so as she sipped her drink.

Opening the door, her eyes widened as she swallowed and then coughed, a hand at her chest.

“Hello,” Mulder said, grinning happily and holding a small, wrapped box. “Didn’t expect you to answer. I was looking for the birthday woman.”

“What are you-”

“Fox!” her mother said as she walked to the door. “I’m so glad you could make it. Come in.” Scully stepped back and he grinned at her again as he crossed the threshold.

“Happy birthday, Mrs. Scully,” he said, handing her the gift. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Maggie, please,” her mother said, taking the gift with a smile. “Thank you. Please come in and have a drink and some appetizers. Dinner will be ready soon.” She nodded at them and walked away.

“Yeah, I can’t call her Maggie. Just seems wrong,” he said in a low voice as he smiled at Scully.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, frowning slightly as she shook her head.

“I was invited.”

“And you didn’t tell me? Didn’t mention it when I told you last week that I had to leave early today? Or two weeks ago when I said her birthday was coming up and I needed to get her a gift? No time between then and now to mention you would be coming here today?”

“And ruin the fun of this moment? Why would I deny myself that?” he asked with another smile.

“What did you get for her?”

“Patience now. She’ll open it soon enough,” he teased and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Is there a place I could put my coat, seeing as I intend to stay awhile?”

“Yeah. We’re using my dad’s office. I could show you.”

“Much obliged,” he said and she smiled as she took another sip of her drink and led him to it.

Coats were lying across the small couch in the room and as she watched him add his own, she finished her drink. Setting it onto the desk, she looked him up and down.

“You knew I was coming here,” she said quietly, stepping closer to him.

“I did,” he agreed as he adjusted his tie.

“You stayed to get the paperwork done.” She continued stepping closer and he smiled.

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he stated and she breathed deeply.

“She invited you.”

“She likes me,” he said with a shrug as his fingertips brushed her wrist.

“She’s smart like that,” Scully said, her breath increasing as he gently scratched his nails against her skin.

“Hmm,” he hummed, nodding as he brought his other hand up to cup her jaw. “You know, you forgot something when you left today.”

“I did?” she asked, her eyes closing as his thumb caressed her lips.

“Mmhmm,” he replied, kissing one eyebrow and then the other.

“What… what did I forget?”

“This,” he whispered and then his lips were on hers, kissing her slowly.

She gripped his waist as she whimpered softly, the feel and taste of kiss nearly intoxicating.

“I…” she breathed as he kissed her again. “I didn’t forget.”

“No?” he asked in a whisper, kissing along her jaw. Soft, gentle kisses that made her stomach clench with desire.

“No. You did.”

“I did?” he asked, pulling back to look at her and she smiled.

“Mmhmm,” she said with a small nod. “I informed you I was leaving. Gave you ample time to approach me. Even waited outside the door in case you were to realize your mistake.”

“Is that right?” he asked with a smile.

“One hundred percent factual.”

“But you said not at work,” he reminded her, his hand at her neck as his thumb gently grazed her jaw. “So I wouldn’t have known you were waiting.”

“Then by that logic, I didn’t forget anything.”

He blinked a few times and she chuckled softly.

“It was you who implemented the rule,” he informed her.

“I’m aware.”

“Yet you were waiting for me to come after you.”

“Also true.”

He blinked again and shook his head.

“I think we may be walking around the point and missing each other when we reach it.” She chuckled again and he smiled as he caressed her neck.

“I had to create the rule as it was for a good reason.”

“Which was what again? Remind me please.”

“Because…” she said, licking her lips. “A kiss isn’t usually enough.”

“For whom? Are you trying to say that after only one kiss, I’m unable to keep my hands off of you? As if I can’t control myself?” he asked in an overly incredulous tone even as his other hand slid beneath the hem of her sweater, and she bit back a smile.

His breath was warm on her lips as he leaned closer, his hand beginning to move towards her breast, and her stomach quivered from the anticipation of his touch.

“Scully,” he whispered and she exhaled into his mouth, his lips barely touching her own.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” a voice said and they jumped apart.

His hand got caught under her sweater for a second and then he pulled it free. As she looked past Mulder and saw who was standing there, a hot flush began creeping over her entire body.

“Fa… Father McCue,” she said, clearing her throat. “I… it’s… did you need something?”

“Yes,” he said with a slightly embarrassed smile. “I just realized I left your mother’s birthday card in my coat pocket. I was going to get it, but I can-”

“No! Please. Of course you can…” She stepped back to allow him to find his coat, Mulder moving with her to give him space.

“Thank you. Ah. Here it is,” Father McCue said as he picked up his coat and removed the birthday card. Setting his coat back down, he smiled at them. “I’m sorry to have interrupted. I’ll leave you now.”

“No. Yeah. We… it’s… okay,” Scully stammered, feeling like a fumbling teenager who had been caught out by her father.

At the doorway, Father McCue stopped and turned around.

“I’m glad to see you here today, Dana. And Mr. Mulder? It’s good to see you again as well, especially under better circumstances.” He nodded at them and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Oh. My. God,” Scully breathed, stepping away from Mulder and shaking her head, her eyes wide. “I cannot believe that just happened. I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed in my entire life. I have never-” She stopped speaking and turned around, staring at Mulder.

He was laughing. He was doing so quietly, but he was absolutely laughing, apparently thoroughly enjoying the situation in which they found themselves.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked, shaking her head. “This is funny?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, still laughing quietly. “It’s very funny.”

“What part of it?”

“All of it,” he said. “Oh… it’s too good.”

“Mulder,” she said, crossing her arms. “He is our priest. We see him, or my mother does anyway, all the time.”

“And?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“And? And he just walked in to find you… copping a feel.”

“I actually wasn’t, if that changes things. I was close, but…” He shrugged again with a grin and she whined quietly. “Scully, come on.”

“He’s a priest, Mulder. That’s like… like doing that in front of God. Or one of his… friends.”

“Friends of the Father in Heaven? Confidants of Christ?” he teased.

“Stop,” she said, her eyes widening again.

“Mates with the Maker?”

“Mulder,” she warned.

“Acquaintances of the Almighty?”

“Mmmul… Mulder,” she said as she started to laugh. “Stop.”

“Bet you’re rethinking the “not at work rule” right about now, aren’t you?” he asked as he walked towards her and she scoffed loudly.

“No. I’m not. If that had been Skinner… or anyone else from work-”

“They would have won the pool?” he asked, putting his arms around her and smiling. “Found themselves flush with cash?”

“Mulder…” She closed her eyes and sighed before opening them again.

“Relax, Scully,” he said, kissing her forehead. “He’s a priest. He can’t say anything. He’s sworn to secrecy.”

“That only applies to confessionals,” she said and he hummed with a nod.

“Well… I don’t think he even saw anything. My body shielded most of the view of what was happening. I think we’re good.” He smiled and she sighed again.

“It’s not that it’s a secret, it’s just…”

“I know.”

“And it’s not as if nearly everyone at this party, at some point, hasn’t asked about you while also subtly hinting at our relationship, wondering if it wasn’t more platonic than strictly professional.”

“Platonic,” he repeated softly. “Platonic…”

“Yeah,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Platonic I can get on board with, at least until recently,” he said as he pumped his eyebrows and she smiled knowingly. “But professional? Hmm… We are professionals in a professional field, but… do most professional relationships include disrobing within the first few days of knowing one another?”

“You dick,” she whispered and he grinned.

“I think platonic with a… slight sprinkle of professionalism would best describe us,” he whispered back and she smiled.

“I’d say that covers it.”

“Until recently anyway, as previously stated,” he said and she laughed.

“Oh yes. It’s definitely no longer platonic.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, staring at her with a smile and she nodded.

“We should… rejoin the party.”

“We should,” he agreed, rocking them slightly.

“You’re not moving.”

“Neither are you and it’s your mother’s birthday.”

“Something tells me,” she said, moving her arms to encircle his neck. “She’d excuse my absence if she knew what I was doing.”

“With a priest in the next room?” he asked with a mock gasp.

“Oh,” she said as she pulled back and he groaned. “I forgot about that.”

“Scully, I was joking,” he said as he reached to pull her back, but she walked to the door and put her hand on the doorknob as he groaned again. “Forget I said anything.”

“I can’t. It’s in my head now. It’s… whoa!”

The door opened suddenly and she jumped back in surprise.

“Oh, there you two are,” her mother said with a smile.

“I was just showing Mulder some of dad’s things in here,” Scully lied smoothly and Mulder hummed in complete agreement.

“Oh, that’s nice,” her mother said as she looked around and smiled with a sigh. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Okay. Thanks. We’ll follow you out.”

“That’s okay. Don’t want to disturb you if you’re having a look around.”

“Yeah, Scully. Wasn’t there something else you wanted to show me?”

She turned to look at him and he smiled innocently at her, but she did not fall for his charm.

“Maybe next time, I want to refill my drink. Would you mind grabbing the glass for me there?”

He hummed again as he picked up the glass and they followed her mother from the room. He placed his hand on Scully’s back and she looked sidelong at him, silently telling him to stop. Smiling as he nodded, he moved his hand and went to get them each a drink while she filled a small plate with appetizers.

Father McCue came to stand beside her and for a moment she froze, unsure of what to say.

“It’s good to see your health continues to thrive,” Father McCue said and she let out a quiet breath. “I know it’s been some time, but it’s always good to see it.”

“Yes,” she said, still feeling uneasy. “Father, what you may have seen earlier-”

“Dana,” he said with a smile and a small shake of his head. “What I saw was nothing less than I would have expected after the brief times I’ve seen the two of you together. Actually, hoped would be a better word than expected.”

“Really?” she asked quietly, her attention drawn to Mulder as he left the kitchen. He was laughing at something and it made her smile slightly.

“Oh yes,” Father McCue said, touching her arm briefly and nodding. “I’m happy to see that you’re happy.” Nodding again, he walked away and Scully breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh no. What did he say?” Mulder asked, walking up and handing her her drink. “Do we need to leave the country and assume new identities?”

“No,” she chuckled and he raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “He said he was happy to see me happy.” He stared at her as she took a sip of her drink.

“And are you?” he asked, his voice low and serious. “Happy, I mean?”

She smiled slowly and nodded once, watching as his eyes lit up and he smiled.

“Then, I’m also happy you’re happy.”

He held out his glass and she tipped hers to his, clinking them together.

“And you?” she asked and he held her gaze, licking his lips and glancing down at her own with a hum.

“I’d show you the answer to that question if there weren't so many eyes currently watching us.”

“Later then,” she said as dinner was announced.

The chatter around them increased as people began to line up to head to the kitchen and make up their plate.

“Later,” he agreed, moving closer to her.

His fingers hooked onto hers and she smiled, squeezing them gently. He winked at her as someone in the line laughed and she wondered if her mother would forgive her if they were to leave now, leaving behind nothing but half empty glasses of alcohol.

“After gifts and cake, of course. I don’t want to incur the wrath of Maggie Scully,” he said, his eyes widening and her smile grew.

“No, you don’t,” she agreed.

“But as soon as it’s done…” He squeezed her fingers and she nodded.

“I’ll see if I can find a stopwatch. I think there’s one around here somewhere,” she said and he laughed heartily as the line began to move and he squeezed her fingers once more before letting go.

Later, she thought with a smile as his hand found its familiar place on her back and this time she did not tell him to move it.

#the x files #xf fanfic #post one breath #post our town #post apocrypha #post redux ll #post millennium #worry #concern #caring #forehead kisses #gentle kisses #cuddling #platonic relationships #loving #no longer platonic #msr #love

132 notes · View notes

shinobirain24 · 3 months

Text

Sunsprite Arc

Full name: Sunsprite Summer Rose Arc

Nicknames: Lady Arc, Lieutenant Arc, Sunny (by her parents)

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Silver

Occupation: Leader of the Knights of Arc, Second-in-command pf Vale's military, Member of the Resistance, huntress

Affiliation: Clan Arc, Knights of Arc, The Resistance, Vale's military

Semblance: Aura Amp, Rose Manifest

Weapon: Crocea Mors (upgraded into a scythe)

Family: Ruby Rose (mother), Jaune Arc (father), Yang Xiao Long (maternal aunt), Taiyang Xiao Long (maternal grandfather), Summer Rose (maternal grandmother, deceased), Qrow Branwen (honorary great-uncle), Jaden Arc (Paternal grandfather, deceased), unnamed paternal grandmother, Saphron Arc (Paternal Aunt), Terra Cotta-Arc (Paternal aunt), Adrian Arc (paternal cousin), Unnamed 6 paternal aunts, Unnamed paternal great-grandfather, Unnamed great-great grandfather, Mirak Arc (great-great-great grandfather, deceased)

Biography:

Sunsprite was born to Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc. Named after a yellow rose that represents to feel positive and hope, and the promise of a new beginning. Like her mother, Ruby, Sunsprite is born with silver eyes.

She was born during the time of the 2nd Great War in Vale. As an infant, it was the only time Sunsprite sees her mother, but Ruby feared Salem will come after Sunsprite (due to the fact that she has silver eyes). To lure Salem away from her daughter, Ruby resolves to leave. But not before telling Jaune, and asked him to give Sunsprite a letter when she turns 17.

After Ruby left, Jaune was left to raise his daughter on his own, with the help of his older sister, Saphron, and Ruby's older sister, Yang. This way, Sunsprite will still be surrounded by love and family, even during the hard times in the 2nd Great War.

As Sunsrpite grew up, her aunt Yang would not only spoil her and spend some time with her, but also taught her niece hand-to-hand combat. Then Jaune would teach her swordsmanship, but she prefers to fight without a shield in order to excel in her speed.

Later, she would meet her honorary great-uncle, Qrow Branwen, one of the surviving huntsmen that has been watching over Sunsprite from a distance until now. And the one who taught Sunsprite's mother the ways of the scythe. Qrow then taught her on her to use a scythe.

When Sunsprite is ready, Jaunes passed her his own weapon, Crocea Mors, which has been in the family for generations. With this, Sunsprite would readjust the family sword so that it can also turn into a scythe. Jaune doesn't mind this, since he acknowledged her creativity and strategy.

After she turns 17, Jaune finally gives Sunsprite the letter. On the letter, Ruby explains her reason for leaving for the fear of her safety. But encourages her to fight for what she believes in. It also includes a journal that tells her stories about her friends, her time in Beacon Academy, and her journey for the four relics.

During one of her missions, she is helping evacuating the civilians in the town of Sunset Island, when the Grimm got too closer to the crowd, Sunsprite wasted no time to fend off the protect the citizens. It also unlocks the semblance of Rose Manifest (which turns her into Rose pedals to switch from one to to another).

Personality:

Since then, Sunsprite has become the leader of the Knights of Arc. A group of hunters that serve as protectors of the weak and aiding the Resisatnce. Because of this, Sunsprite unlocked her father's semblance, Aura Amp. Which is surprising, cause never before a huntsman and/or huntress can unlock two semblance, and she is the first to do so.

And because of her dedication for the rebellion, Sunsprite became known as "the Silver-eyed Knight of Remnant."

Sunsprite is similar to her mother, Ruby, intelligent of strategy, and filled with dreams despite being involved in the 2nd Great War. And filled with nostalgia when hearing fairy tales as a child. She tried her best to remain positive throughout her battles. Like Ruby, she also has a sweet-tooth for sweets such as cookies, or other baked goods. And would make them from her grandmother's recipe.

She would refer to her father, Jaune as a "Super Dad," who told her fairy tales in Ruby's absence and spending time with her when not fighting in war. For that, she is close to her father, even if he is absent for busy reasons. Which Sunsprite doesn't mind.

Sunsprite dreams of writing her stories, and would write down her journal previous events, so that if the war is won, she can convert them into a book. Writing down her journal, Sunsprite longed to meet her mother since she left. And was curious about what caused her to leave.

#rwby #rwby fanfic #rwby fanfiction #rwby redux #ruby x jaune #rwby lancaster #ruby rose x jaune arc #rwby oc

33 notes · View notes

all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth · 2 days

Text

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Redux (5x01)

Agent Scully had always been poised, even from that first moment in Blevins’ office, but she’d developed a sort of…commanding stature as the years went on. The conference room was full when she entered, but she took her seat and began to speak without any hint of discomfort.

Four years ago, Section Chief Blevins assigned me to a project you all know as the X-Files.

Agent Mulder had barely been on Blevins’ radar at the time. Had it not been for the man in charge of all this, he might not have realized the depth of his search into the paranormal for quite some time. But word had come down that he needed to be watched– reigned in. Shut down.

Blevins had chosen Agent Scully. He’d wanted someone young, someone impressionable who was eager to please and eager to further their career in whatever way possible. She was a doctor and a scientist. Blevins thought she would be perfect for the job.

I come here today, four years later, to report on the illegitimacy of Agent Mulder's work. That it is my scientific opinion that he became, through the course of these years, a victim. A victim of his own false hopes, and of his belief in the biggest of lies.

Blevins believed she would be able to prove that the things her partner sought were nothing more than fodder for a child’s nightmares.

He believed the X-Files would be shut down.

How things had changed over the years. Agent Scully had only made her partner stronger. She’d proven to be just as unpredictable as the original thorn in their side. She used her intelligence and expertise to find credibility in the X-Files. What had started as an assignment to debunk had quickly changed into a mission to validate.

…systematic way in which Agent Mulder had been deceived and used.

And yet, despite all past experience with this young woman, she sat in front of them today, claiming to have accomplished what they’d asked of her.

…I as his partner had been led down the same path, losing a family member due to my allegiance and contracting a fatal disease, which I was being told was engineered by the men who were responsible for Agent Mulder's deception.

Blevins didn’t know if he believed it.

What I couldn't tell Agent Mulder… what I had only just learned myself, was that the cancer which had been diagnosed in me several months earlier had metastasized.

Blevins hadn’t wanted this. He didn’t even understand it. He was too low in the chain of command to know if what she said was true, but what he did know was that the man with the cigarettes had an ever-growing interest in the status of this particular agent’s health.

And the doctors told me short of a miracle it would continue to aggressively invade my body, advancing faster each day towards the inevitable.

It wasn’t just the cancer that he was in the dark about. Blevins didn’t know the purpose of these men, or their goals. Their endgame. He was just a yes man, a link to the FBI. Had it not been for a chance meeting followed by insinuated threats to both his family and himself, he wouldn’t have even been there.

He had no vested interest in Mulder and his quest, but he was part of the machine, the same as everyone else dressed in suits, skulking around in dark, smoke-filled rooms.

Early this morning, I got a call from the police…

Following orders, completing plans.

…asking me to come to Agent Mulder's apartment. The detective asked me... He needed me to identify a body.

Blevins could hear the emotion in her voice. He could see the way her lip quivered, and despite himself and his duty to the men who had called this meeting, he remembered the young woman from four years before. He’d sent in a spy, but in the end, created a team.

“Agent Scully…” He chewed the inside of his lip and watched her struggle. She didn’t speak at first, but then, fighting tears, she charged forward.

“Agent Mulder died late last night from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.”

Her attention had fallen to the light at the door as Assistant Director Skinner entered the room. She watched him with her back to the room, but Blevins was Division Chief, and it was his job, his responsibility, to move forward.

“Agent Scully, these accusations you've made…” he said, seriously. “You've been given a disease?”

“Yes, sir.”

“They're extremely serious charges.”

“Yes, sir. But I have proof…”

She wouldn’t have proof. These men prevented them from ever reaching that point.

…against the men behind this…of the lies that I believed.

Agent Scully removed something from the file in front of her and stood from her seat.

What I have here is proof undeniable...

She would never have anything substantial…

…that the men who gave me this disease were also behind the hoax. A plot designed to lead to Agent Mulder's demise and to my own.

If he kept his head down, did his job…

Planned and executed by someone in this room...

Blevins could feel his heart stop in his chest. She couldn’t know… he didn’t know…

What I have here is scientific evidence—

She froze, looking down at her file. Blevins looked too, at a small drop of blood. Then another.

Agent Scully rubbed a finger under her nose, looking back at him with a bright red smear across her skin. He was horrified by what he saw. By all of it. She began to sway on her feet. Skinner was the one who went to her rescue while the only thing Blevins could do was watch.

Watch what he had done to a young woman with a promising career in the FBI.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Ao3!

@fridaysat9

#all eyes lead to the truth #mulder #fanfic #scully #x files fanfic #x files #msr #the x files #season five #5x01 #scott blevins #redux

10 notes · View notes

iheartgod175 · 7 months

Text

Salvador Barnes

@blazing-shadows is going to bombard me with messages now XD

I'm getting around to finishing those WIPs I started in September and one of them was one of my buddy's original characters, Salvador. He's the son of my OC, Spike, who's the second in command of Red Scorpion, and a fearsome outlaw in his own right. What sets him and his father apart is his moral compass, which his father tried to destroy multiple times. Following a harrowing betrayal and escape from the law, Sal ends up being in the company of Roxanne Falconeri-Rabbit, who was assigned to capture him. Through a string of incidents, he's let off the hook and assigned to be Roxanne's deputy. And slowly but surely, something starts building between them 😉

That's all your gonna get now, alright? 😁

Drawing Sal was a fun challenge. Aside from Wally Gator, MAYBE Godzilla, and the dinosaurs from the Herculoids, Hanna-Barbera doesn't have a lot of reptilians im their library, so I had to look up different types of lizards. And then when I drew him, I got the WRONG ONE (for context, he was supposed to be a Texas horned lizard, but I ended up using the Australian thorny devil), and by that point I put in so much work I didn't want to redraw him. So I combined it. And then I went nuts doing the scales 🤣 The only real issue was doing his scale color. I had the right markers, but they kept running out except for my illustration pen. So I did my best to use my dying markers and then blend it in using my illustration pen. And it resulted in a two tone color that looks ABSOLUTELY STUNNING 😍

Not sure what my next Blazin' Trails art will be, but just know it'll be on the same quality as this one 😉

Enjoy 😊

#hanna-barbera #ricochet rabbit #fanfic: Blazin' Trails Redux #Salvador Barnes #fan art #my art #my friend's oc

24 notes · View notes

xfilesfanficexchange · 1 year

Text

Brother Bill

Author: @monikafilefan For: @ingridgradient Somewhere along the line, Mulder’s fondness and respect for Scully has developed into a devotion so deep it has become a living thing, spooling like twine around his heart that only her death could loosen. Unraveling it will surely end his life, too. Ao3 Link

#XF1in5Billion2023 6/33

#XF1in5Billion2023 #mulder #scully #msr #x files #fanfic #x files fanfic #redux #cancer arc

50 notes · View notes

thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 5 months

Link

Chapters: 44/44 Fandom: Discworld - Terry Pratchett Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lord Downey/Havelock Vetinari, Downey/Others Additional Tags: let your dad die energy drink is a direct inspiration for my restarting this story, everything is a poison, it's the dose that matters, Family Issues, Period-Typical Homophobia, Classism, AM is an early modern city, and so the values/social norms reflect that, Not Beta Read, We Die Like Men, Downey POV, Significant Age Difference, between downey and one of his past Decisions, like. Significant., it's very very May-December, typical sex acts you'd expect in this sort of thing:, Anal, Fingering, Blow Jobs, etc. - Freeform, some slurs show up in a sibling fight, there's potential dub-con - depending on where one's personal line is drawn Series: Part 3 of coveting desperate things Summary:

It is early days of this thing called a ReLaTiOnShIp(?) between Downey and Vetinari--all very new, Vetinari would like to note that emotions are a bug and not feature. Downey is here to smoke a lot of cigarettes and be dramatic about things. However, the untimely murder of Downey's brother-in-law puts a bit of a wrench in things, made worse by the announcement that his (estranged) father may or may not be dying soon. All deeply inconvenient for everyone involved. There are parallels of past and present because families are a sticky business, always, and things that happened thirty years ago have a strange ability to cycle back through your life.

---

When Downey enters the soft, dark space of Vetinari’s bedroom the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork looks at him and then stops being the Patrician. Downey watches him stop being Patrician. For this moment of time, at least. It is like watching a man disrobe. There is this strange, ephemeral, fleeting vulnerability and Downey wonders what must his own face be like to prompt such a response from a man as glacial as Vetinari.

Downey says, ‘I don’t do that.’

‘What is it that you don’t do?’

‘I’m alright.’ Downey stands, still, in the doorway of the secret passage he enters through because they cannot be obvious about anything. They’ll never be able to be obvious about anything. Even in death they’ll keep their secrets, this thing between them being a large one. Amos will be buried in the family plot and when Annette dies, she will be buried next to him. Downey will be buried at the Assassins’ Guild. Vetinari will be buried somewhere. Downey doesn’t know what arrangements he has made.

‘Drink?’ Vetinari asks.

‘Please.’

‘What is it that you don’t do?’

‘Whatever you were preparing for,’ Downey accepts the whiskey. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t weep on you. I won’t sully the sheets or anything.’

Vetinari’s mouth thins but he says nothing on that, only motions to the edge of the bed for Downey to sit on since there is only one chair in the room and it is the desk chair, currently occupied by a stack of books. Vetinari had been reading in a dressing gown, sitting atop of the sheets on account of the heat.

‘Well,’ Downey sighs, sinking against a bedpost. ‘He’s dead.’

Well - it is done. Thus, Always (2.0) is completed.

Thank you all so much for coming on this incredibly long, sometimes slow, ride! It means a lot and I hope everyone had fun along the way. Everything after this are epilogues and appendixes! Including a letter from Joss telling us who was in that file Downey filched for him.

(gotta say, big shout-out to ahufflepuffhobbit who listened to me talk about Jocelyn and Downey non-stop for like ten months straight.)

(also big shout-out to dellevigne who kindly lets me go !!!!!!!!! about Downey at them from time to time.)

(also also big shout-out to squadron-of-damned who is why I restarted Thus Always in the first place.)

thank you all! <3 <3 <3

#discworld #thus always the redux #writing #lord downey #vetinari #downlock #discworld fanfic #downey x vetinari #vetinari x downey #thus always

10 notes · View notes

bloodydeanwinchester · 9 months

Text

okay well maybe i will liveblog it a little bit. this is everything i want from a fix it fic, cas terrified to face dean after his confession is just so *chefs kiss*

redux

#jenna reads redux #fanfic liveblogging

15 notes · View notes

overheardatthecontinental · 11 months

Note

Ooooouuuu for the fanfic writing asks because I'm both nosy & greedy -- #8 pleasseeee

😘😊

8. Post an out-of-context spoiler from a WIP

And because I adore you, I'll give you one from each of my active WIPs :)

Endlessly Dangerous

The phone vibrated again.

Helen: Nothing I can’t handle. When he went to the bar, Marcus and I started a new game where we take a drink every time Winston tries to speak in metaphors

Oh, that would not end well. He fired off a message quickly:

JW: Do not do that

Before sending a new message to Marcus:

JW: Do not let Helen play a Winston based drinking game

Marcus: The idea that you think I have any control over your girlfriend is hilarious

Endlessly Dangerous (Helen's Version)

Her fingers twitched.

Art was about transformation. She’d taken a story that held significance to her and created a replica. She’d conceptualized the piece before carefully planning exactly how she wanted it to look. Then, it was destroyed. Smashed into hundreds of pieces. John had taken one part of it and used it as a weapon.

It was no longer what it began as.

And she wanted it.

Endlessly Bitter

"What can I say?" Helen leans back in her seat, smiling flirtatiously. "I attract trouble."

John is not amused. "Yes, you do."

She laughs at him, leaning across the counter. John gives her a brief kiss in response, surprising Winston. The idea of the boogeyman giving any PDA is jarring.

"Do you want your usual?" she asks him.

"Yes, please."

"Okay, one dark roast and a Xanax, coming right up."

Criminally Insane

“Good morning, John,” she said, closing his door behind her. “I”m Doctor Kingston. I’ll be your psychiatrist.”

His eyes seemed to cut into her.

Helen was used to the different kind of looks she got from patients. There were looks of anger from patients who didn’t want to be hospitalized. There was paranoia from those whose brains had convinced them that she was evil or a cog in a system out to destroy them. There was the emptiness of those who couldn’t comprehend existence outside of their own emotions. This was different.

John was assessing her every movement, looking for something.

“Good morning,” he answered evenly, politely.

“How are you doing today?”

He raised his brow and dryly replied, “Phenomenal.”

Untitled Matrix fic

"I know," Tank bemoaned. "And I get it, but it means our shore leaves won't line up again which means we're now at five months without fucking."

Neo blinked, focusing again on his hand in a desperate attempt to not listen to Tank talk about his sex life.

Distal phalange, medial phalange, proximal phalange.

"You still got two hands," Trinity replied without missing a beat and Neo barely held back a snort.

"Your empathy is astounding."

Matrix Redux

“What happened?” He bit out, trying to remove Morpheus’ arm from his.

“You had a seizure during the testing and--”

“To her?” It came out as a snarl. He didn’t recognize his own voice as he ripped his arm back from Morpheus and undid in quick succession, removed the two plugs violently.

#asks #fanfic asks #john wick fanfic #john x helen wick #the matrix fanfic #matrix fanfic #matrix redux #matrixreimagined #overheardatthecontinental #the matrix has queue

11 notes · View notes

khorazir · 1 year

Text

Lineart for the third of my four Fandom Trumps Hate 2023 contributions: an illustration for the lovely fic Angelo’s Redux by @onesmallfamily (72reasons).

#sherlock #sherlock fanart #johnlock #fanfic #angelos redux #drawing #ink #john watson #fandom trumps hate #fth 2023 #onesmallfamily

225 notes · View notes

swinging-stars-from-satellites · 2 years

Text

in this moment now

Scully spends the first two weeks of her medical leave at her mother’s house with instructions not to push herself and a bottle of medication for the migraines that haven’t fully gone away yet; the implication in the doctor’s words and the way Maggie looks at her is a warning not to try and return to work too soon while she’s only barely in remission yet. She thinks she’s doing a decent job of proving the saying about doctors making awful patients wrong, but maybe it’s just the euphoria and relief of being alive that keeps her reasonably cheerful despite how badly she hates her own weakness. The implications of her miraculous healing still weigh on her, and she knows Mulder hasn’t stopped thinking about it either, but those concerns are outweighed by the relief she sees in herself and him and on her mother’s face.

Maggie is away for the afternoon and Scully has an appointment with her oncologist, and doctor’s orders to take it easy aside, she doesn’t want to go alone. It’s not out of fear. She has been given a second chance at life, in a way her mom continues to call sacramental, and she has to admit that she feels the same. She is alive. She is not dying. Chip or no chip, it’s impossible to explain without grace. She isn’t afraid, trusts in her own healing and the words of doctors far more blunt with her than most patients, but the thought of stepping back into those halls alone gives her pause.

It’s not something she thinks about too hard, because she’s already called Mulder and asked if he would drive her — she’s not sure she feels up to diving herself yet, she says, which is true, if not the entirety of it, and his eager acceptance comes nearly before she finishes speaking. She can almost hear his uncertain smile through the telephone line. He calls her “Dana,” once, right before they hang up — I’ll see you tomorrow, Dana — and Scully smiles to herself. It’s been a long time since he’s used her first name.

It feels like testing the waters, like something has changed and they both know it. Mulder has always used her given name sparingly, out of respect that she’d never gotten from previous partners, then, later, like it was somehow something to be treasured. He’s been around several times since she was released from the hospital, they’ve talked on the phone quite a lot, maybe just to hear each others’ voice — for once, Scully has called him just as much as he calls her. She can’t help watching the way is eyes light up when he smiles at her and remembering the way he’s kissed her knuckles when they thought she was going to die

It’s raining on the drive to the hospital, a soft November rain threatening to turn to sleet that has her opting for her thicker wool coat on the way out the door. Mulder chatters almost awkwardly about some local case he’s taken and she’s so content just to hear about it, listen to him talk, that she almost doesn’t realize he’s waiting for her to refute his theories. He looks over at her from the driver’s seat at a red light and his eyes go soft, the way they almost always do when he looks at her lately. She’s never seen anything so incredibly, almost shockingly tender, at least not directed at her. It stuns her, a little bit, as she stares back at him.

“I miss you,” he says suddenly, and it startles her. “Having you around all the time, I mean,” he clarifies before she can reply that she’s right here, in the car beside him, just like she always is.

“I’m here now.”

He tries to hide his grin, the way he used to when they were first working together and didn’t know if it was safe to share their joys. “Yeah,” he replies. “You are.”

Scully has the sudden urge to reach across the console and take his hand, he states even though there’s nothing to lose. They’ve held hands dozens of times, often for comfort or support during a difficult case, on rare, unspoken of occasions just for the sake of the contact. She doesn’t look at him when she reaches out, stays staring thoughtfully out the windshield, and he doesn’t look at her either, but he reaches back and their hands brush against each other with only a moment’s pause before he returns her grip. She hadn’t even realized her hands were cold.

He walks with her into the hospital and is waiting for her in the lobby when she leaves her exam, both of their coats folded over one arm. “Everything okay?” he asks, glancing over her face and holding out her coat. She nods and takes it, slips it around her shoulders and finds herself relaxing into the familiarity of Mulder’s concern and his hand at her back.

Scully looks at him over the top of the car in the parking lot. The rain has stopped, but the pavement is still wet and she can smell the drying dampness in the air. It’s reassuring, somehow, the mundane normalcy of the dreary afternoon. “Everything’s normal,” she says, meaning her oncologist’s tests and report; she realizes as she says it how wrong the words are when applies to the larger reality of circumstances, but neither of them comments on it.

Mulder’s face lights up, like he’d been worried — and of course he had, it’s Mulder, and she’s never seen him more broken than he’d been at her bedside a couple weeks ago; she’d never seen him as close to reverent as when she’d told him the cancer was in remission. Of course he’s still worried. Scully tips her head to watch him watch her, just for a moment. It’s only a few seconds, just long enough to be noticeable, but he’s staring at her again the way she’d first noticed him doing after she’d been abducted, with a kind of overwhelming joy. He looks like he’s half a second from turning into a lovestruck schoolboy and she wonders suddenly if he’d ask her to dance right here and now, in the middle of the wet hospital parking lot.

Then he blinks, and flashes a smile, and just says, “Good,” before ducking to get into the car.

Scully follows, suddenly more aware of herself than she’s been around Mulder in a very long time. She’s never felt self-conscious around him for long, except for a few times on their first case together, before they even really knew each other, and that had worn off quickly. Now, though, she’s far too conscious of the way he looks at her sometimes; all too aware of her own desires, when she’d been dying in that hospital bed and before and since. She doesn’t take his hand again on the drive back, keeps her fingers woven together in her lap and only looks over at Mulder when he’s not looking at her — back and forth, like if they made eye contact something would need to be said, and neither of them knows how to say it.

The one time their eyes do meet, right as they’re pulling into her mom’s driveway, Scully is the first to look away again. “Thank you for coming with me,” she says, reaching for the door handle. Maggie’s car isn’t parked, and she’s a little glad that she isn’t back yet. She has a sudden whim to invite Mulder to stay a little longer, wonders what he would say if she did.

“Anytime,” he replies. “Here, I’ll walk you up.” He steps out of the car along with her, just for a second brushing his hand against her shoulder as she comes around the front. She’s used to that by now, knows the way he constantly tries to touch her — knows, by his own sheepish confession while she was still bedridden in the hospital, that he does it more now to remind himself that she’s still here; after that admission, she’d nearly cried — but her heartrate picks up just a little nonetheless.

She turns her key in the lock and turns halfway to face him. He smiles again, that soft, hesitant upturning of his lips that’s always endeared her. “Goodnight, Scully,” he says and begins to step down the stairs.

She hesitates, suddenly, at the fact that he’s leaving. “Mulder,” she calls, and he stops and looks at her curiously. She reaches out, brushes her hand against his arm, and as if on instinct he takes it. His hand wraps around hers, the touch endlessly familiar. She intertwines their fingers, looks down at their linked hands as her breath catches.

“Scully?” His voice is quiet in the fading evening light as he leans down toward her. Even with him a step below her, she’s still a few inches shorter.

He watches her with bemusement tinged with a small amount of concern, and she offers a small smile. Mulder matches it, his eyes searching over her face almost nervously, but she isn’t afraid. She reaches out with the hand not tangled in his and finds herself gripping the front of his coat as she leans forward and gently, carefully, presses her lips to his. She feels his gasp of surprise before he kisses her back, leaning into the contact almost reverently.

She’s thought about this before; there have been moments when she thought he was going to kiss her and she would let him, times she’s considered stepping out and brushing her lips against his. She’s never acted on it, though, out of hesitation or regret — she’d wanted him to kiss her when she was dying, but she couldn’t do that to him, let him love her and then leave him alone. Thinking about it still makes something inside her twist painfully. She kisses him softly at first, and then more sure, and he slips his free hand into her hair, his thumb brushing her jaw.

When they finally pull apart and she looks up at Mulder again, cheeks flushed from more than the humid evening breeze, his eyes are still closed. It takes him a few seconds to blink them open, his gaze full of wondered shock.

“Scully…” He breathes her name, staring at her like she’s the only other person in the world, like he can’t find any other words. She’s still gripping his jacket, their faces only inches apart. In the shadow of the fading afternoon light, she can see the slowly growing, huge grin on Mulder’s face. She thinks she’s shaking, from adrenaline or giddiness; she thinks she never wants to let this moment go. She never wants to let him go.

His hand is still warmly resting against the back of her neck, fingers threading through the fine har at her nape and brushing against the scar where the chip is, and her only addendum to her own thoughts is: she also never wants him to let her go. He looks like he’s about to lean down and kiss her again, a lopsided, dorky smile on his face because there’s no point in words right now. That will come in time. Tires crunch on pavement, though, and they both stiffen, eyes wide.

The car passes by and Scully relaxes again, feeling Mulder do the same, and she finds herself leaning against him and laughing breathlessly into the damp air. “My mom is going to be home soon,”she says, as if it’s a warning for both of them.

“I should go,” Mulder immediately replies, voice still a little shaky, but she stops him, doesn’t let him get more than an arm’s length away. He stills, the uneven flush of his face giving him an air of boyishness despite despite the tiredness that always hides in his eyes.

Scully bites her lip. “You could stay,” she offers, because she knows with sudden absolute certainty that her mother already has her suspicions about them. One look at her will give it all away, anyway, the way Maggie knows her children, and she doesn’t want to let him leave yet.

Mulder blinks at her, head tipped to the side, and that same small, goofy lovestruck grin appears on his lips again. He steps closer and doesn’t let go of her hand. “Okay,” he says, hesitantly. “I think I will.”

#finally got this ready for posting adhdjshdjssh #Lu writes #txf #the x files #txf s5 #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #msr fanfic #usermoody #userscully #disco i forgot your tracking tag so I'll just send this to you shdjdhskshdsj #cancer arc my beloved #sorta... love the idea of post-redux

141 notes · View notes