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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 days

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Love At First Sight

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: It's your first time in America, and you do your best to blend in. No one needs to know who you really are, and you're really good at playing pretend.

Play Pretend Masterlist

Square Filled: "stop. just stop." for @mfbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You look out the window of the plane in thought. The decision to leave everything you’ve ever known wasn’t rash but it didn’t make it any easier. Nineteen hours on a plane really gives you time to think about the new life you’re stepping into. Someone in the States is waiting for you, to take care of you and help you through this difficult time.

What is America like? You’ve never been there but have always wanted to go. You only know what you’ve heard from stories and other people’s experiences. It’s so big that there are more than five different time zones. You were never able to travel to different countries for your protection but America seemed like the dream to be.

Now it’s reality.

When the plane lands, you watch everyone get out of their seats and grab their bags from the compartments above. Just follow what they do. No one is out to get you. You’re safe here. You grab your bag and hold it close as you wait for your turn to get off the plane. People get off like sheep in herds. You’re not sure what to do or where you’re going so you follow the flow of traffic. Some people break off to grab something to eat or use the bathroom but the majority of people head down to the baggage claim to gather their bags.

You wait patiently as the conveyor belt brings out the bags. You tried to be as inconspicuous as possible so you had gotten a plain black one. That was a mistake as most of the bags are black. You put a pink princess sticker on the top so you’ll look for that. You grab the right bag and haul it to your side before looking around the busy airport.

People pass by you in a hurry to get on with their lives but you’re not sure what to do. There are two police officers with dogs near the sliding doors, so you head over there while being careful not to run into anyone or get in anyone’s way.

“Excuse me?” Both offices turn to you as the dog sniffs your leg and bag. “Do you know where pick up and drop off is?”

“Yes. Right through these doors and to the right.”

“Thank you.”

You leave and head right where the officers directed you. The only thing you know about the person meeting you is his name, Don Stockwell. Someone very close to you trusts the man you’re meeting, and you trust your friend with your life. If he says this man is good then he is good. Some of the crowd clears out as people get picked up, and you see a sign with your last name on it. Thank God.

“Don?” you ask as you approach him.

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, it’s nice to finally meet you. Come here.” He pulls you in for a hug which you return. When you pull away, you notice a scar running across his face starting from his forehead down to the opposite cheek. He’s not ashamed of it or anything because his hair is slicked back when it’s long enough to cover most of the scar. “Let me get your bags.”

He places them into the trunk of the car before the two of you get in. He waits for the road to clear before pulling onto it.

“You look terrified, my dear. Don’t worry. Ben told me everything before you arrived. I’m going to take good care of you.”

“Okay,” you chuckle nervously.

Don drives you into the city of Quantico where there is a line of small houses. These houses don’t have driveways so people are forced to parallel park on the street. The house is small length-wise but has what looks to be three stories high. It’s white with three steps leading up to the front door. It’s small, quaint, and quiet. Everything you’ve wanted for the past year. Only recently were you able to actually go after what you wanted. Don takes your bags inside, and the inside is even more beautiful than the outside. Right off the bat, there is a slim staircase on the left side by the wall. The front door opens to the living room and behind that is the kitchen. The only thing separating the kitchen from the living room is a half-wall. It keeps the floor plan open while still separating the distinctive rooms. There is a door presumably to a basement underneath the staircase but with a padlock on the door.

“So, here’s what’s going to happen now.” Don sits on the staircase at eye level with you. “You’ll introduce me as your uncle who you’re staying with. Your parents are out of town and won’t be back for a while due to work.” You nod in understanding. “I’m working on getting your documents ready like a new birth certificate and a driver’s license.”

“I don’t know how to drive a car.”

“You don’t need to. Everyone carries a license here.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I also got you a job at the new coffee house down the street. It’s within walking distance so you don’t have to worry about using public transport or driving. It doesn’t pay well but it’s not meant to. I’ll pay all the bills here. This job is just meant for you to blend in for a while.”

“When do I start?”

“Monday.”

“Thank you for everything you’re doing for me. I know it can’t be easy.”

“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off. “I’m going to make it an early night but feel free to make this place like home.”

He gets off the stairs and heads to the second floor where the bedrooms are. This is nothing like what home is like. This entire house is the size of your bedroom back home but you’re going to make the most of this situation. After all, you asked for this. You take both suitcases upstairs to your bedroom which is also small. There is a small book corner where the window juts outward. A small bench rests below the window, making the room appear bigger than it normally is.

You start to unpack your things and see some of the items you took from home. Your parents must be worried sick about you but you needed this change for yourself. Both your parents were arranged to be married back then like tradition, but you didn't want that for yourself. You love them with all your heart but they didn’t understand when you told them you wanted more from life than luxury and marrying for politics.

Your past will come knocking eventually, so you’ll get as much as you can from this new life as you can before you’re sucked back into it.

Come Monday and you’re standing outside the sleek and modern coffee shop named “The Coffee Shop”. The place is already busy but you hear that’s normal for this type of establishment. You walk inside and feel slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people. The only way you could be around this many people back home is if your mom or dad and your bodyguard were in the room.

“Can I help you?” a woman asks.

“Um, I’m looking for Cindy?”

“That’s me. How can I help you?”

“My uncle, Don, said to come in for work on Monday. Is that right?”

“Yeah, he said you’d stop by.”

“Thank you for this opportunity.”

“Don’t mention it. Follow me.”

Cindy takes you behind the counter and to her office to give a bit of training. Since The Coffee Shop is slammed, she can’t give you proper training. For now, you’ll be stocking stuff and cleaning what you can until it starts slowing down. You wrap the black apron around your waist and immediately get to work. You watch everyone work like a well-oiled machine. Everyone has a part to do and a place to be in. You’re kind of in the middle of everyone’s way.

“Sorry,” you mutter when someone knocks into you.

That work is becoming your new favorite since you must have said it at least twenty times in the first hour alone. You try not to be in anyone’s way as you restock the items and clean the countertops. You pass by one of the machines that has a drink set up to it but no one is around to take care of it. How hard could this be? You press a button on the front of it and thick fluffy cream comes squirting out the machine.

“No!” You press some more buttons to make the machine stop. “Stop. Just stop.”

“Push the button on the side to turn it off.”

You look at the man who spoke to you. Your hand slips off the machine and into the pile of cream on the counter. You quickly turn the machine off and give the stranger a shy smile.

“Can you tell it’s my first day?” One of your coworkers gives you a scowl when she realizes the mess you made. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get feeling overwhelmed,” the man says.

“Spencer?”

The man gets up and walks to the pickup counter to grab his order. Instead of leaving, he walks right back over to you.

“I’m Spencer Reid,” he smiles.

“Y/N.”

“I have to go but will I see you here tomorrow?” You can’t find the words so you nod. “Good.”

You watch Spencer go with a slight smile on your face. Something clicked for you when you first looked into his honey-brown eyes. You felt something that you have never felt before. Not even when you were forced to be with Henry. What’s the saying? Love at first sight? You’re not sure if it’s real but you definitely felt something for Spencer.

You just hope you don’t ruin it before it has a chance to be something real.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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sports-on-sundays · 2 days

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lucky strike / CL16

Summary: Charles x American!female!reader - F1 comes to Sin City and you unexpectedly run into a certain someone.

Warnings: gambling, alcohol, cussing, use of pet names (A LOT), flirting, one moment of implied jealousy

Requested?: Sort of! Thank you to everyone who voted for Charles in the poll!

Author's Note: Charles won out in the poll, so here you go, everybody! (Of course I HAD to use The Charles Vegas Podium Picture). Also, I listened to Lucky Strike by Maroon 5 while writing.

one in a million ; my lucky strike

Well, you thought the whole F1 thing was absolutely ridiculous. You couldn't care an ounce less about Formula 1, so you certainly weren't happy about all the complications of it coming to your city.

You would call yourself an all American girl, and you're proud of it. If any racing, NASCAR. Football is the sport with the brown ball you throw- NFL, not the white and black ball you kick. That's soccer. You have the greatest food, the greatest mix of cultures, the greatest weather. If you didn't know better, you'd say you have the greatest country, too.

You watched a Formula 1 race when you realized the whole Las Vegas Grand Prix thing was actual, and when you saw that (firstly) it was honestly pretty boring, and (secondly) the only American driver is basically the most sucky one, you decided it would be pretty hard to get into it.

You're a Vegas girl, and you're proud of it. You're actually from Los Angeles, California, but you moved to Vegas to chase your dreams and live the life you dreamed of a year ago with your boyfriend, and it was so worth it.

Now you identify yourself with Vegas even more than you do with the Los Angeles Rams, despite the fact that your boyfriend broke up with you seven months ago and left to go be a prodigal son in New York City.

You decided Vegas was perfect enough for your clever hand, and you'd continue to be a prodigal daughter right where you're at.

But now the Grand Prix is the newest thing, and you don't like it at all. All these people flooding in, like as if there's not already enough people. Just to watch some cars drive around in circles, closing up main roads? No, you're not into it.

Your girl friends all seem to think this is just the best thing, and you discuss it across the table with two of them. One says, "Honestly, the McLaren duo are the hottest."

"No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?" your other friend disagrees.

You snort in disbelief and say sarcastically, "How about neither? So you guys only care about this because the racers are hot? Give me a break."

"Well," one of your friends starts, crossing her arms across her chest, "They are hot. At first, I wasn't so sure, but, I mean, come on! Maybe we could get glimpses of them when they're in Vegas!"

"Or meet them!" your other friend pipes in.

You scoff. "Good luck with that. Aren't these guys self-focused millionaires with too much money for their own good? Probably all greedy idiots who hook up with every half-sexy girl who comes along. So if you're into that, sure, waste your time trying to meet some hot plutocrats, with the one percent chance you might get f*cked like crazy for a night before they forget about you and move back to their mansions across the world! F*ck, is race car driving even a real sport? It's f*cking driving cars. I could do that!"

Your friends don't really argue with you, because you're right. And clearly, they do only care about the hot racers, because you figure any real fan of the sport would argue with you.

Two days before the Strip is supposed to be closed up for the Grand Prix, you find yourself submerged in the vibrant energy of Wynn Las Vegas, the dazzling lights and sounds of the casino floor swirling around you. The scent of alcohol lingers in the air, a reminder of the drinks you've indulged in throughout the night.

You slip between two people to reach the roulette wheel, holding your newly bought chips, with money you've earned earlier in the night.

Bets are placed around the table over and over, as you earn more and more chips. You feel someone nudge your shoulder, and a cocky male voice comments next to you, "You're having a good night, huh?"

"Every night is a good night," you remark back, not even glancing up at the man talking with you. He seems to have some sort of accent that you can't place. Perhaps French?

Which means he's probably from Louisiana. Possibly Quebec.

Probably some rich idiot F1 fan who can afford to travel half way across the country for the Grand Prix.

You don't plan to even give him the light of day.

"Until it's not," he says as you watch the roulette wheel spin once more.

You smirk and feel his eyes on you as you collect more chips.

The game goes on, and you think he's gotten the message that you don't care to converse with him, because does shut up.

But now it's the last bet of the game. You take a sip from your glass and feel a stupid, risky streak in you.

Some idiot part of you that's drunk and wants to push her luck way too far.

You place a straight-up bet, all your chips on the number sixteen.

You can feel eyes on you, and the same man next to you from earlier says, "Are you stupid?"

You chuckle. "Possibly."

"You're going to lose all your-"

"No, I won't." You straighten your back, staring at the wheel. It's true, you've earned a lot of money throughout this game.

And honest, it is true that you're stupid.

But it's also true that for some reason, you're confident.

"So you're overconfident and risky? I like that," comments the guy next to you. "But you're going to lose all your money. All that good luck for nothing..."

"You'll see," you breathe, ignoring his little flirt. "It's going to land on sixteen."

"Sixteen, huh?" This man's hazel eyes sparkle, and something in you tells you that you've seen this guy's brown locks, bright dimples, and perfect stubble before.

You've seen him somewhere. Recently. Like some guy you could haven't been drunk with, but the memory is fuzzy.

But you weren't drunk with him.

Despite being sure you've seen this guy before, you're also sure you've never met him before, either.

"Yeah," you nod, looking away, staring as the roulette wheel begins spinning. "It's my lucky number."

You're not looking at him, but you can feel him grin next to you. "Your lucky number, huh? Just so happens, it's mine, too."

You snort, rolling your eyes. "Is that some lame attempt of a flirt?"

"No. It really is my lucky number." By his tone, you can tell that grin has downgraded to a smirk. "But if you'd like to see a lame attempt of a flirt, that's an option, too..." His voice lowers as you feel his arm snake around you, and his hand land on your waist.

You gently shove it off as the wheel begins to slow. You hold your breath, watching, this stupid French boy no longer even a fraction of your concerns. All focus is on your slight potential lucky strike.

And then the world stops as the wheel stops, too.

On sixteen.

And then it all comes flooding back. "Oh my God!" you squeal stupidly, covering your mouth as there's rounds of, "You've got to be kidding me," "No way," "It's impossible!" and "How lucky is this girl?"

You feel surges of shock and pride as you collect all your money. Once you've received it, after such luck, and earning a fortune, you decide you're going to have a drink. Or more than just one.

But when you turn, there's that guy again.

"What's up?" you ask, the grin on your face impossible to wipe off.

"How did you know it was going to stop on sixteen?" he questions, and he looks a little more handsome than he did before as this time he succeeds in taking your waist.

"Are you trying to pick my pocket?" you question warily, though, shoving his hand away.

"Not at all," he chuckles, "But you're a smart girl, aren't you? And I think I might be a lucky boy. Come on- I'll buy you a drink."

You snort. "No way, pretty boy! I can buy my own drink, after what just happened! How cocky are you?"

"Call me cocky, or call me rich, but either way, you're too sexy to have to pay for your own drink."

You scoff at this, but figure that you can't really let down an offer of free stuff. You'll be the first to admit you're greedy. Once of the biggest reasons why you gamble is because you want money- duh- and as much of it as you can get.

So soon, you're sitting at a table with this random guy, looking into his eyes, holding your drink in your hand. After barely a moment of hesitation, your curiosity finally gets to you, and you ask, "Who are you, anyway? I could have sworn I've seen you somewhere recently."

He gets a smug look on his face, which you don't like, before he says, "You really don't know?"

Your nose crinkles up in confusion, and for a second you feel ultra worried. Is this someone that I've met, that I should remember? Am I a terrible person for not knowing who this is...?

But then he says simply, "My first name is Charles. Charles Leclerc."

You stare at the taller individual, knowing you've heard that name, trying desperately to wrack your brain of it.

And then, suddenly, it hits you.

Loudly, in your head, in your friend's voice, in the exact tone she said it, 'No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?'

"Wait-!" you say in shock. You can see the satisfaction on the man's face, Charles, as you realize. "So, you're one of those F1 racers? Like, you race for the Ferrari team?"

He snorts and nods. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize me right away. Do you live here in Vegas?"

"Yeah," you say simply, taking a sip of your drink.

"So I take it you hate Formula 1, then? Because how else are you living in Vegas right now and don't know my name, or recognize my face?"

"You sound awfully prideful."

Suddenly, he smirks, and drags his finger across your jawline, pulling your face to look up at him in the process. "Maybe so. But clearly you're not so much better yourself, Miss Bet It All On Sixteen."

You cock an eyebrow at him and return his smirk with a challenging grin. "Sure, but I was right. I won what I wanted."

"Hmm... Well, what if I'm about to win what I want?"

"Oh, yeah? And what is it that you want?"

He leans in closer, so you can feel his hot breath tickle your ear as he utters simply, "You, baby."

You smirk. "We just met, buddy. I'm not that stupid."

"I think you're just playing hard to get."

"Or maybe it's just hard for you to get me," you counter.

"Well, I like your spunk. And your good luck. I think I might need a little bit more of that." He leans away a bit, and comments, "And I think I foresee a little bit more of luck in your future."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," he smirks, leaning in closer. In barely any second, his lips meet yours, and though you know you should, there's no way you're pulling away now. He wraps his arm around you, urging you to lean into the kiss. You melt, letting him.

You don't know what it is.

But in this moment, you gently let your lips part, inviting his tongue to slip in between your lips, allowing yourself to, yes, make out with basically a stranger.

It wouldn't be the first time, but it also isn't something you do for fun whenever you feel.

When you finally force yourself to pull away, the first thing you breathe is, "How did you do that?"

He grins, and is clearly red in the face. But there's a look of shock on his face, too. As if his flirty cover was just confidence, and not because he gets tons of girls like this...?

Or maybe you're just reading too much into his expression.

Either way, he responds with, stroking your cheek, "No idea. Maybe I just have a way with you?"

You roll your eyes as you check your purse. No, he didn't pickpocket. He meant to kiss you. You stand up and say simply, "Well, I better get going n-"

"Sorry, what?" he suddenly snatches your arm back, pulling you back down to sit again with a surprised chuckle. "You just met a famous millionaire race car driver who bought you a drink after you won big money in roulette, let him make out with you, loved it, and now you're just going to casually walk off?"

You grin. "What? Do you think I was impressed by you? Think again, honey. Just because you drive cars fast and make ridiculous amounts of stupid money for it, and that you're insanely handsome- none of that means I'm any more impressed with you than I am with any other guys I meet on my night outs."

"Hm," he raises an eyebrow, and says, "What if you could get more from me, missy? Clearly, you're out for yourself and will do anything for a good deal. And you're f*cking sexy about it, too. So what if I had something else to offer you?"

You let yourself sit down at this, looking at him expectantly.

He smirks, clearly loving that he's 'won you over,' before saying simply, "Would like a free pass to the whole weekend, and a pass for the paddock?"

Your eyebrows scrunch together, and your eyes widen. "I- what?"

His smirk grows even bigger. "You heard me."

You inhale sharply, but cross your arms across your chest and come out sharply saying, "Unfortunately for you, I couldn't care less about Formula 1. In fact, I'm starting to dislike it a lot. But thanks for the offer."

His jaw drops, and his eyes practically pops out of his head, which gets a chuckle from you. For a moment, he's actually speechless, before he finally gets out, "Are you aware of the offer you just refused?"

You raise an eyebrow, not able to keep the cheeky grin off your face. "Probably not, but that's okay. Why, anyways, would you give a stranger such an opportunity in the first place? You probably have ulterior motives, and I think I can pretty much guess what they are, mister. You don't even know my name yet."

"Oh, God, you're right," he laughs, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, what's your name, princess?"

You roll your eyes, and tell him.

He grins. "It's been wonderful meeting you." He digs in the pocket of his light blue jeans, and pulls out a pen and a restaurant receipt. "I know you think you'll be able to forget me so easily, princess," he starts, scribbling something on the receipt, "but trust me- you'll be wanting this." He takes your hand and presses the receipt into it, before standing up just like that, and saying with a wave as he turns to walk off, "I'll talk to you later, angel."

You look down at the receipt to see a phone number scribbled on it in chicken scratch. But the numbers are clear. And though you walk out that night rolling your eyes at this Charles's boldness and cockiness, with an abundance of money you've earned that's a lot more worth the stupid grease-stained receipt, the moment you get back to your apartment, the first thing you intend to is putting that stupid number into your phone.

"This is stupid," you comment as you slide into the backseat, next to Charles.

He just rolls his eyes. "You won't be saying that by the end of this experience. Besides, you were the one who decided to text me, like I said you would. You were just playing hard to get."

You scoff. "Oh, shut up."

"You look lovely, by the way," he comments in a lower voice. "I like that skirt." You look down at yourself. You're wearing a matching crop top shirt and short skirt, your sunglasses holding your hair back away from your face, and brown sandals.

"Thanks," you snort, crossing your arms and looking out the window, turning your gaze away from the Monégasque driver. (Yes, you did, despite yourself, look him up last night, just to know who the heck this guy even is.)

(You also were sure to look up his salary.)

(Ridiculous.)

(But also intriguing.)

Soon enough, before you know it, you're walking alongside him, about to enter the 'paddock.'

Makes it sound like a bunch of horses racing.

But when you're there, surrounded by it, in the moment, you don't think rude comments like that.

You stop, taking in the high life atmosphere. The revving car noises, the lights of The Strip on the 'racetrack,' the crowds, the music, the richness, and the challenge.

Your breathing falters, and your heart beat quickens as your hand involuntarily finds Charles's wrist and grips it as you gasp, "It's... extraordinary."

You glance to Charles's face to see him softly grinning. His hand slips down to hold yours as he comments, "You seemed like the type of girl to love it."

Your smile widens. "I've been here so many times. On The Strip. But... it's not the same. How did they do it?"

He begins walking, pulling you along by your hand as you look around. "That's just Formula 1 for you. There's nothing in the world quite like it, Y/n."

He leads you by the hand toward the Ferrari garage. Once you're there, he says, "Want to meet my teammate, Carlos?"

"Don't know who Carlos is, but sure..." you say vaguely, taking in the large piece of machinery- the Formula 1 car- in front of you.

He chuckles. "You're f*cking adorable," he murmurs, before leading you away to see Carlos.

He's a well-built man with fluffy dark hair, tan skin, big brown cow eyes, and stubble. Pretty much looks like exactly how you'd imagine a Formula 1 driver to look.

He nods respectfully. "Hey, Charles," he says, and shakes your hand with a friendly wink. "This your new girlfriend?"

You look up to see Charles smirk. "Not yet."

One of Carlos's thick, dark eyebrows cocks up, and the suggestion of an amused smirk travels on his lips for a second. "Ah, I see."

"Charles!" you snap, your eyebrows scrunches together. "Not ever."

"Well, we'll see about that. So far, I've been the right one, now, princess, haven't I?"

"Pfft. I was right about sixteen, wasn't I?"

He rolls his eyes as Carlos says with a chuckle, "Well, it will sure be interesting to see how this plays out," before moving on with his life.

Charles takes the time to show you around, and halfway through the tour, you blurt suddenly, "So, this is all the Italian team and stuff. Isn't there an American team?"

"Hmmm," Charles snorts as his eyebrows travel farther up and he fights off a seemingly somewhat mocking smirk. "There is."

"Why don't you show me them? Don't they have an American driver? Like, Carlos is Italian, right? Isn't it protocol or somethin'? Anyway, isn't it called Williams, the American team, or something? Some guy named Logan something that's an American racer on there-"

At this, Charles can't seem to hold it together anymore, and doubles over laughing, essentially, at you.

"What?!" you demand indignantly.

"You really are clueless!"

"I-"

"Alright, alright, Y/n. Haas is the American team. They don't have an American driver- German and Danish. No, Carlos is not Italian; he's from Spain. Williams is British, and yes, Logan Sargeant races for Williams, and he is American. About the only thing you got right."

You roll your eyes with a shrug. "I told you I don't give a damn about this stupid sport."

"Whatever you say, Miss Starry Eyes."

So, first Charles takes you to Haas, where you learn, surprisingly, that not all the racers are young hotshots like Charles and Carlos at least seem to be. They're friendly enough there, but really don't care much to give you any of their time, so then Charles suggests to go to the Williams garage and see if there's Logan to bother. You agree to that, so soon, you're entering Williams.

As soon as you see Logan, you know he's the American. You can see it in his stance. You can see it in his golden blond slightly sweeped hair, gray blue eyes, and strong jawline. "That's Logan, isn't it?"

"How'd you know?"

You shrug, breaking off from Charles to Logan. "Hey! You're the only American 'round here?!" you ask with a friendly grin.

"Huh?" he asks, looking up, in the most United States of America way. "Oh, hi," he says in what you perceive as dumbly, with a friendly smile. Ah, that's more like it. None of these posh Monacan boys and hot Spanish men- this guy is just like home sweet home!

You can practically hear the eagles cawing over the Rocky Mountains!

"You're Logan Sargeant?"

He nods. "I am. And you are...?"

"Just some Vegas girl dragged here by Charles."

"Ah... so you know him?"

"Well, now, unfortunately, yes."

His eyebrows furrow, but he chuckles at the same time. Though this guy isn't nearly as handsome or charming as Charles, there's something about him you like a bit more-

Suddenly, a hand is on your waist, and hot breath says in your ear, "Got to be getting back to Ferrari now. Come on with me?"

You blush and nod. "Right, Charles."

You have no idea what to think of him.

"Podium?! Uh- is a podium good?!" you ask, eyes wide as Charles brings it home in second.

"Yeah, yeah, it's good!" some guy you don't know wearing red near you says.

"Oh- Alright, well- That's good, I suppose!" you respond a little manically.

As soon as Charles as the chance, he finds you. He still has champagne on his race suit and his face is glistening with sweat, and there's no way you can deny it- he's sexy. When he reaches you, he wraps his arms around you, and his stunning eyes seem to burn into you. He can't fight the grin off his face as he says lowly, "Get why my lucky number is sixteen, baby girl?"

"Ah, stop with that," you snap, your voice cracking. You don't know, but this seems- all this seems-

Way too important.

You reach up to touch the number sixteen on his hat, before taking it off his head and slipping it on your own, backwards, on impulse.

He grins. "You can keep it. Not like you'll need a keepsake. You won't forget me."

You bite your lip, giving a quick nod, still studying his handsome face. Your eyes linger on his light pink lips, which arch into a perfect cupid's bow, as you murmur absently, "You seem pretty confident about that, huh?"

"Of course I do. Looks like you might be my little good luck charm, hm? Can't be letting you run away from me, can I?"

"Hm. Well, we'll see about that."

"Still playing hard to get?"

"Not playing. I just am hard to get."

"Whatever you say, darling," he comments with a shrug, walking off.

The French accent is pretty sexy.

Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see are the big earnest eyes of Charles Leclerc, staring back into your eyes. "Morning sunsh-"

Your immediate reaction is to scream and promptly slap him across his pretty face.

He grunts as his hand flies to his cheek to cover it up, and he says, "Hey, hey, calm down!"

But your eyes scan the room. It's clearly a hotel room. There's only one bed: the one you and Charles are laying in right at this moment. You're wearing a large black T-shirt and big blue gym shorts very tightly tied to fit your waist. Charles is dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans with a white T-shirt underneath, his regular jewelry, and white sneakers. So clearly, he's already showered and gotten dressed. He smells like his rich cologne, and his hair is all washed and fluffy and clean. If you weren't in a slight panic right now, you'd have wondered if you could touch his hair and feel how soft it is.

But!

As you're about to gasp out questions, Charles sits up and gently sets his hand on top of yours. You become aware of the pounding in your head as you bite your lip nervously. Charles looks at you earnestly, and says calmly, "Hey, you don't have to worry. It's okay."

"What happened?" you exhale.

"Nothing," he soothes. "We went out. You got more drunk than any of us though you should. I didn't know where you lived, so I took you to my hotel room. Gave you clothes to change into, and we went to sleep. Nothing more."

You swallow an anxious lump in your throat. "How do I know I can trust you? Please, just be honest with me. I won't be mad. You didn't know any bet-"

"I didn't do anything. We didn't do anything. Okay?" he leans in closer, and reaches to cup your cheeks in his hands. "'Kay? Can you just trust me?"

You bite your lip, but slowly nod. "I suppose that's the only thing I can do."

Over six months later, you stand on the boat, staring out at the Mediterranean Sea, smelling the salty breeze in the air, feeling content, wearing a loose button down, light blue jean shorts with a brown belt, your slew of bracelets, white sneakers, and a headband holding back your hair.

Suddenly, Charles is up next to you. "Hey, princess." For months, you've had what you stubbornly call a 'situationship,' whilst Charles calls you his girlfriend.

Because you love Vegas more than you love Charles (or at least that's what you like to say), you refused to leave when Charles did. You like taking risks. Just not the 'travelling halfway across the world for a hot guy' kind of risks.

But you stayed in touch. Charles made sure of that.

Well, he meant it when he said he'd make sure you'll never forget him.

But then Formula 1 came back to the States, to Miami, and you knew you'd have to make the trip. The flirty comments and romantic tension thick enough to cut ensued as soon as you and Charles set eyes upon each other, like as if it hadn't been six months or so since you'd last seen each other last.

It just felt like-

Somehow fate is involved.

Well, when Charles invited you to the Monaco Grand Prix, that was an offer you felt you couldn't let down.

And, boy, was that the best descision of your life.

To see Charles win his home race like that, and to be there? Just thinking about it now gives you goosebumps. Charles had wrapped his arms around you after the race, his eyes a little damp, and you felt something more.

Like he really cared.

If you didn't know better, you'd say it was like he really loved.

Loved you.

But, no. Of course not. That can't be.

Can it?

Well, all night you partied. You were in on the fun. You also made sure to pay a visit to the Monte Carlo casino, as you obviously must.

You had amazing luck, once again.

On this thought, as you feel Charles approaching from behind you, you comment into the wind, "You know, I'm starting to think you're my lucky charm, honey."

He chuckles, coming up next to you. "Oh, yeah? That's what I said six months ago when I first met you, you know. I've been starting to think the same thing about you."

You snort. "Maybe so, Monaco race winner."

He smirks, and you can feel the pure joy radiating off him. He slips his hand into yours as he murmurs, "I was so lucky to meet you."

I smirk. "I am pretty awesome."

He rolls his eyes, but squeezes your hand. "So, do you like it here in Monaco?"

You nod vigorously. "Gosh, Charles, it's amazing."

"Better than Vegas?"

"Well- I don't know if anything is better than Vegas..."

He leans in closer and speaks lower. "Well, would Monaco be better if your good luck charm just so happens to reside here?"

"Hm..." you smirk, flushing a bit. "I'd have to think about that, prince."

"Yeah," he nod, his tone softer. "Why don't you."

There's some silence, as you watch the sun begin to set, reflecting off the sparkling water.

Charles leans even closer to you, his hands gliding around your waist, pulling you towards him. He leans down, gazing deeply into your eyes. Then that stupid flirty grin appears on his face again. "F*cking gorgeous you are, one in a million. I struck lucky with you. My lucky strike."

He closes the distance between you, his soft lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. The heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine, igniting a spark between you as your tongues dance together in a sensual embrace. Connected.

Maybe it's not fate.

But it is most certainly luck.

And in this moment, with the lips of the winner of Monaco sucking on yours, you feel like the one who struck it lucky.

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sweetteainthesummerx · 2 days

Text

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (10)

In which Aubrey directs a video and Ollie crashes

series masterlist

aubreyyang posted on their story

olliebearman replied to your story

text me after my race?

aubreyyang

ofc good luck bearman xx

oliviarodrigo posted on their story

caption: so american my current fixation

formula1 posted

formula1 Ollie Bearman crashes and flips today at the Belgian Grand Prix. Waiting for more news ❤️‍🩹

liked by alex_albon, f1griddle and 77,890 others

comments are turned off

MESSAGES

aubrey

MISSED CALL

ollie

ollie pls pick up

CALL RECIEVED

O: hello?

A: Oh, thank god. Are you okay? I saw the car flip-

O: Hey, hey. I'm all good, Yang. Just a little bruised up. No worries about the trip.

A: I'm not worried about that, Bearman. I'm worried that you're not dead. Are you sure-

O: I'm okay, love. The medics need to check-

C: Aubrey?

A: Charles?

C: He's okay, but he needs to go test if he has a concussion. Wait for my call, okay?

CALL ENDED 02:05

olliebearman posted on their story

caption: All good, thanks for all of the love and concern. See you after summer break!

aubreyyang replied to your story

pls never do that again i almost shat myself

olliebearman

aww you were worried? :)

aubreyyang

OLIVER U FLIPPED IN A RACECAR

I hate seeing you hurt

please be more careful I had a heart attack almost smashed a camera

olliebearman

promise to not do that again

and tomorrow

are you still coming over to meet the fam?

aubreyyang

ofc!

aubberieyaang posted

aubberieyaang about to meet his parents PRAY FOR ME

liked by celine_diorr, chuck_bushes and 15 others

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celine_diorr "we're just really good friends)

-- aubberieyaang that doesn't sound like praying to me

leeahh_j more slowburn than percabeth u deserve an awards

-- aubberieyaang LEAH WTH WHOS SIDE ARE YOU ON

-- leeahh_j the side of love and happiness

liv_laugh_love you are so girl boss u directed a whole music video, the loul got into a car crash and now ur meeting his parents

-- aubberieyaang too scared to argue

A knock sounded on her door, and she smoothed out her sundress and little cardigan. Aubrey didn’t know why she was so nervous. Ollie was very much not her boyfriend, but when he’d asked her to meet his family over one of their very long FaceTime calls, she’d agreed.

Because they were important to Ollie, which indirectly meant they were important to her.

When she opened the door, she was met a wide-grin on Ollie’s handsome face.

“Aubrey, hi. You look, wow.” Staring at her, he fiddled with his watch. Then, he snapped out of it, sweeping her up into a hug, lifting her off of her feet.

“Oh-“ she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he swung her into the hotel room.

“Missed you.” He muttered into her shoulder. She flushed pleasantly; this was really nice.

“I called you yesterday, sweetie.” The nickname slipped out so naturally, and she would’ve thought that he hadn’t even heard her if not for his smile against her skin and the sudden warmth of his ears on her neck.

“It’s not the same…” he reluctantly let go, watching her grab her gifts for his parents.

“Mm, it is nice being to actually see you. I forgot how tall you were."

He snorted, offering to carry the dutch oven she’d bought and the hydrangeas he told her were his mom’s favourites.

“You didn’t have to. They like you already.” He opened the door for her, and she shrugged.

“I was raised by Asian parents to never show up empty handed to someone’s house.”

The car ride there was quiet, both of them reeling in each other’s presence.

The only time they talked was about his crash and Aubrey made him promise to be more careful.

She liked watching him drive, all lounged in his seat, one big hand loose on the wheel, the other reaching over to hers.

It was odd how they were; best friends now, and bordering a little more. She liked it.

When they arrived, she steeled herself with a deep breath.

“Hey, don’t worry.” He reassured her. With one last squeeze of her hand, he jogged over to open her car door, ever the gentleman.

His house was charming; small and very English. Cozy, like the one she grew up in.

“Okay, let’s go.”

bearyfast_04 posted

bearyfast_04 Top Five reasons why Aubrey is the best

she brought my mom and dad flowers and a dutch oven

she charmed my little siblings now they love her more than me

shes so hardworking and talented but still so humble

shes so beautiful it hurts

she smells really good

liked by kimi_possible, landoakabob and 12 others

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kimi_possible wow we lost another one

-- bearyfast_04 WHAT im just being honest

arthuranddw ur so down bad but did ur parents like her

-- bearyfast_04 yes obviously the bearman family loves Station 13 and they don't understand why we aren't together

-- leosdad tbh I don't either

-- bearyfast_04 shes like my best friend I don't want to lose her

chililos55 congrats to you and ur gf!

-- leosdad that's not!

-- chililos55 they're not together?? WHY AM I THE LAST TO KNOW ABOUT EVERYTHING

landoakabob im not the most humble

-- bearyfast_04 read that sentence Lando

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12

#f1 drivers #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #ollie bearman fluff #pining #social media #smau

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miss-musings · 1 day

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"You Weren't Loyal To Me": How Crosshair's Brothers Absolutely Failed Him in "The Bad Batch" Season 1

I know I'm not the first person to make these arguments, but after recently rewatching "The Bad Batch" Season 1, I feel compelled to play Devil's Advocate and assert that Crosshair's brothers absolutely failed him in Season 1.

Now, don't mistake me. I don't believe Crosshair was 100% in the right. Once he regained his free will -- whether he actually removed his inhibitor chip, or whether his injury on Bracca deactivated it or lessened its impacts -- he definitely should've left the Empire the first chance he had.

I imagine he was trying to make the best of a bad situation, but I don't see why he would stay with an organization hijacked his mind and ordered him to kill his family, civilians and other people who were trying to do the right thing.

But, I don't think his brothers -- I'm excluding Omega because she's a child and was following everyone else's lead -- are 100% in the right either.

I believe Crosshair's brothers basically abandoned him.

CROSSHAIR'S GREAT INSECURITY?

Now, I understand that they didn't initially plan to abandon Crosshair. But, once they knew he was being mind-controlled and especially once they knew how to undo its effects, they never even considered going back for him.

We never see them debate trying to save Crosshair. They don't discuss whether it's feasible, whether it's worth the risk, how they would even attempt it, etc.

I think this was a much-needed moment that we never get to see. In fact, as others have pointed out, we don't really get much discussion about Crosshair at all.

He's their brother. He's been by their side from infancy through their time as cadets through dozens of missions. Why aren't they more upset about him turning against them? Or being mind-controlled by the Empire?

They seem so blasé about it. Like it's more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, especially by 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." Like "Ope, Crosshair's here. I bet he's gonna try to kill us again."

As I'll discuss more later, Hunter gets captured on Daro, and Omega loses her frickin' mind. Even Echo, Wrecker and Tech seemed distressed too, even if the show didn't focused on their reactions as much.

But, Crosshair's mind and body get hijacked by the Empire, and nobody seems to give a shit.

No wonder why Crosshair felt so betrayed and said everything he does in 1.15 and 1.16. It probably confirmed something he always felt, or always feared:

That he was the odd man out in his squad -- the last to be included and the first to be excluded.

That they never cared about him as much as he cared about them.

Based on experiences in my own life, with friends and coworkers, I do wonder if Crosshair was always insecure about his standing within the group. This makes sense given that he's likely the youngest of the four original brothers, and that as a sniper, he isn't always in the middle of the action like they are. His personality doesn't really help either, but his brothers seem to be able to navigate it just fine in their "The Clone Wars" Season 7 arc.

Maybe this is partly why he seemed OK with Echo joining the squad at the end of TCW arc: because he felt like Echo would become the new 'odd man' considering that he didn't grow up with the Bad Batch and wouldn't know Crosshair's brothers like he does.

It's been a while since I watched TCW Season 7, so maybe I'm wrong.

But, I definitely think this is partly why he resents Omega so much in Season 1:

The Bad Batch -- mainly Hunter -- decided to risk their lives and their freedom to go back to Kamino for Omega. She might've been their "little sister," but they'd known her all of one day and Hunter still decided it was worth going back for her.

Yet they never went back for him.

Hell, as far as we the audience know, they never even considered it.

I'm not saying it would have been easy or risk-free. They also now have Omega in their care, and trying to extract Crosshair from Imperial custody while all parties involved would be trying to kill or capture them isn't an easy undertaking.

But, as I'll talk about more later, these guys do rescue and extraction missions all the time. They put their lives on the line for complete strangers several times in Season 1 to save them from Imperial custody, slavery, etc.

And I'm not saying they were wrong to do those things. It was objectively good that the Bad Batch saved the people they did.

But, I can absolutely understand why Crosshair would be infuriated that his brothers take on all these missions to help complete strangers but never bother to help him...

ANALYZING THE BATCH'S DECISIONS BASED ON THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE

I understand that, before he confronts them in the hangar in 1.01 "Aftermath," that they were planning to go back for him. And that they were forced to leave him behind because he was literally gunning for them. And -- as far as his brothers knew -- he was doing it of his own free will.

However, in 1.02 "Cut and Run," Omega tells them about the inhibitor chips, implying that that's how Crosshair is being controlled.

Then in 1.03 "The Replacements," we see that Tech is building a device to locate their inhibitor chips, and Omega tries to tell the Batch and specifically emphasizes to Hunter that Crosshair has no control over his actions. Hunter admits that he's angry at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega reassures him that they'll get him back someday.

So, it seems like -- at least in Omega's eyes -- the Batch was planning to save Crosshair at some point. And, Hunter at minimum feels guilty for leaving Crosshair on Kamino, even though they didn't really have much of a choice at the time.

However, the Batch gets sidetracked in 1.04 and 1.05. First, they need supplies; then bounty hunters are after Omega; then they need intel on who's after her and why.

Then, by the events of 1.07 "Battle Scars," we see that they've fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. It's safe to assume they've done -- or at least attempted -- a dozen jobs for her at this point, based on Wrecker and Omega's 20 orders of Mantell Mix.

And then Rex shows up and tells them point-blank that the clones can't fight the inhibitor chip's effects, re-emphasizing Omega's earlier point that Crosshair had no control over his actions.

The Batch then experiences this firsthand with Wrecker, whose chip activates before they can extract it. We see that, even with Wrecker fighting the chip's effects with all his might, he endangers his brothers and was *this* close to killing Omega, before Rex stunned him.

Now, we have confirmation based on both Rex and Wrecker's experiences that removing an active chip restores a clone's free will.

Thus, by the end of 1.07 "Battle Scars," the Batch definitively knows:

Crosshair is being controlled by an inhibitor chip and is being forced to do the Empire's bidding;

How to remove an inhibitor chip; and

That removing a clone's active inhibitor chip will restore his free will

And yet, despite all this knowledge, the only effort they make to save Crosshair is to tell him about the inhibitor chip.

They don't attempt or even discuss possibly stunning him on the artillery deck and taking him with them.

But, admittedly, this isn't the best time to attempt a rescue, as they're outnumbered and essentially trapped aboard the Jedi Cruiser. And then Omega gets captured by Cad Bane and Hunter gets shot, and the others are desperately trying to get off Bracca before Crosshair & co. shoot them down. Fine. Getting off Bracca safely and then trying to find Omega should be their priority.

But, once they recover Omega on Bora Vio, and their lives aren't in immediate danger anymore... this would've been the perfect time to at least debate going back for Crosshair.

Again, they have all the information needed at this point.

As for how they find him, well, I'm sure they could get the information somehow. Or they could just cause a stir somewhere so he'd show up to arrest them again, like he did on Bracca.

But, no, they just continue doing jobs for Cid in 1.10-1.13. They don't bring him up at all until they see him on Ryloth in 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth," and again, the tone is like, "Well, Crosshair is here. That's annoying."

If not being able to locate him was the only reason they didn't try to save him after 1.08/1.09, that argument doesn't apply to 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." He's there. They know he's there. They're already there doing an extraction job anyway... why don't they just grab him too???

Yes, there would be additional risks, but YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THE EMPIRE AND FORCED TO DO ITS BIDDING, AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO GIVE A SHIT!!!

Which brings us nicely to:

THE DOUBLE STANDARD

Throughout Season 1, but especially in the latter half, we see The Batch putting themselves in harm's way for complete strangers, or at most, friends-of-friends.

They rescue Muchi the Rancor and other people from enslavers; they extract the former Separatist Senator from Raxus; they extract the Syndullas from Ryloth; they break Gregor out of the Imperial base on Daro.

In the latter three cases, the Batch went to Imperial-occupied planets and an Imperial base, despite all the risks involved. And, especially when they saved Gregor, they had very little information going in and basically just winged the entire thing.

It just feels like, when you look at all these cases, any argument the Batch could make for not saving Crosshair just falls apart.

"We didn't know where he was." He was on Ryloth -- grab him then.

"We didn't have enough information." You didn't on Daro, and you still snuck into a heavily fortified Imperial base to rescue Gregor.

"Everyone there would've been trying to kill us." You literally extract/rescue people from Imperial forces for a living...

"It would've endangered Omega." Well, buddy, have I got a story for you...

You see, when Hunter falls on Daro and gets captured, the Batch still comes to his rescue despite knowing it's a trap AND THEY BRING OMEGA WITH THEM!!!

Every excuse they could've made for not saving Crosshair sooner is gone. The Batch will literally run into a trap for Hunter, and they constantly throw themselves into danger to save Omega, but they never do the same for Crosshair.

It really feels like such a double standard.

They seem to care about everyone BUT him.

Plus, sadly, there's one more parallel I can draw. One more instance where the Bad Batch put themselves in harm's way to save a fellow clone who was being mind-controlled by their enemies in an attempt to kill them...

Echo.

Yes, remember all the way back in TCW Season 7, when we find out that Echo is the one behind the algorithm that's giving the Separatists an advantage in all these battles?

Even though Rex thought Echo was dead, the minute he suspects Echo's still alive, he goes after him. He even punches Crosshair over it, after Crosshair bullies Rex for leaving Echo for dead at the Citadel.

One of the "regs" went back for his brother despite knowing his was being mind-controlled by the enemy and forced to attack them.

Rex, Anakin and the Bad Batch save Echo from a terrible fate. They extract him from the Separatists, restore his free will and essentially give him his life back.

Yet, when the exact same thing happens to one of their own, the Batch don't even consider going back for Crosshair the way Rex went back for Echo -- hell, the way they went in for Echo too, even though they didn't know him!!

SOME CONSIDERATIONS

I will give the Batch this: once Crosshair confronts them on Kamino and Hunter stuns him, Hunter decides not to leave Crosshair behind this time. And that was even after Crosshair refused to say when he had his chip removed. So, for all they know, he might've been acting of his own free will when he tried to kill them on Bracca.

While taking Crosshair with them at the end of 1.15 was a step in the right direction, I don't think it was enough to make up for everything they failed to do.

And, while he doesn't specify exactly what, Hunter later admits to Crosshair in 3.05 "The Return" that he has regrets too. And considering the context and the timeframe they're talking about, it's possible Hunter regrets not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all, among other mistakes he's made. (Story for another time.)

I'll also give some consideration to Wrecker, who was the only one of the brothers who said he actively missed Crosshair in 1.03 "The Replacements." Tech mentions Crosshair very flippantly a few times, and Echo doesn't really mention him at all.

Obviously, we'll never know for certain, but I do wonder how Crosshair would've reacted if his brothers had rescued him and removed his chip at some point. Would he have stayed with them? Would he have wanted to rejoin the Empire voluntarily?

Considering he (supposedly) had his chip removed and still stayed with the Empire willingly in-universe, it's possible he might've wanted to do the same thing in an AU where his brothers rescued him.

He definitely despised that they were fugitives and "scavenging like rats," while he had authority, respect and purpose as a soldier of the Empire.

But, I think a large component -- although not the only one -- of why he stays with the Empire is that he felt like his brothers abandoned him. He brings this up several times in 1.15 and 1.16, and the way he does indicates this is a major sore spot for him.

We see in 1.01 "Aftermath" that the chip enhancement procedure is painful. He scrunches his face, flexes his hand and squirms around in the chamber. Plus, the machine itself looks similar to the Mind Flayer from other "Star Wars" properties.

Crosshair was literally being tortured by the Empire. Maybe he doesn't recall that once the procedure's done, but we see him getting his chip enhanced in both 1.01 and 1.03, and it's possible it was enhanced even more times off-screen.

I cannot stress enough: the Empire basically took Crosshair prisoner, tortured him and hijacked his free will.

And his brothers essentially did nothing to save him.

It would be one thing if his brothers were civilians like you and me, and didn't know the first thing about how to infiltrate an Imperial compound or how to navigate a firefight despite being outnumbered.

But, that doesn't apply to The Bad Batch. That's literally their bread-and-butter.

And Crosshair -- especially once he seems to regain his free will between the Bracca and Ryloth arcs -- watched his brothers risk their lives to save complete strangers while doing nothing for him.

I would've been livid too.

Not to sound like Tech, but while I don't agree with Crosshair's decision, I can understand why he decided to stay on Kamino rather than go with them at the end of 1.16. His brothers offered him no real comfort and no real apology, and I think he desperately wanted to hear that, especially from Hunter.

I know after everything that's happened -- especially Crosshair refusing to say when he had his chip removed -- that it would've been hard to admit their mistakes. But, Crosshair wanted to hear something beyond: "You can come with us if you want. And if you don't, we don't have to be enemies."

The closest thing to comfort any of them offer is Omega affirming that, despite everything, she still cared about him. This seems to be the only thing that really effects him, that causes him to doubt his decision, that causes him to show any kind of emotion beyond anger.

I legitimately believe that if someone had talked to Crosshair one-on-one for like five minutes, and really showed how much they still cared about him and always did, that he would've rejoined them.

Granted, it's really hard to tell.

Crosshair has, as Tech said, always been severe and unyielding. Plus, he really suffers from this "in for a penny, in for a pound" kind of mindset, which is partly why he stays with the Empire for so long even after regaining his free will.

But the fact that all his brothers leave him on Kamino again so effortlessly, so easily is just tragic. No final goodbye. No hug. No nothing.

For all any of them know, this could be the last time they ever see each other. (And, for Tech and Crosshair, it was.)

I know it wouldn't have been easy after everything that's happened, but for crying out loud, I just wanted them to try.

And I imagine Crosshair did too.

IN CONCLUSION

Honestly, I think the TBB writers and producers purposely never gave us a scene of The Batch debating whether to go after Crosshair, or a scene of them outlining to us the audience why it wasn't possible even though they wanted to.

I think the creative team wanted us to sympathize with Crosshair when he says "You weren't loyal to me," while also arguably giving our protagonists a weakness to overcome later.

This really seems like the case if we look at Season 2.

Once the Batch finds out Crosshair's being detained by the Empire's Advanced Science Division in 2.14 "Tipping Point," they immediately start discussing whether and why they should try to save him, even after everything that happened between them in S1.

On top of that, this time they actually decide to do whatever it takes to get him back, despite limited intel and the imminent danger behind such an undertaking.

I think the Batch genuinely learned from their mistakes in Season 1 and, as Hunter maybe alludes to in 3.05 "The Return," regretted not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all after the Empire started controlling him.

I'll admit: I think when I first watched Season 1, I was basically in the Batch's corner. Crosshair was gunning for them at every opportunity, and Omega's well-being quickly became their priority (understandably so).

But, after rewatching Season 1 -- especially now that the show is over and we see how everyone's arcs play out -- it really hits me just how much Crosshair's brothers failed him in Season 1.

Again, I'm not saying Crosshair didn't make mistakes too. He definitely did.

But Crosshair's brothers failed him first.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #tbb omega #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair tbb #tbb season 1 #tbb season 2 #tbb meta

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fvckwluv · 2 days

Text

I'll Pick You Up at 8

Spencer Agnew x gender neutral reader

accidental first date fluff one shot

word count: 4.6k

A/N: I haven't written fiction in such a long time, so bare with me.

potential content warning: make-out session depicted, joking/talking about the implication of s3x (s3x NOT depicted)

Just like after every SwordAF recording session, you're still so amped up from the game, you insist the group goes out to your favorite restaurant for dinner. A small authentic Italian pizza joint, Ardovino's. And just like every time, your exhausted friends decline.

Well, everyone except Spencer.

"C'mon guys..." Your whine draws on as you pout with your whole body, like a disappointed child. "It'll be fun I promise. And the food is to die for."

Your friends' rejection wasn't new, far from it. It had actually begun to become a running joke. You always get the post-performance adrenaline rush after SwordAF. While the rest of the crew would rather wind down, you insist on a big group dinner.

"Y/N." Chanse spoke. "Leave It." The group, including you, chuckled. "The very last shoot of one of our busiest shoot weeks isn't the time for a pizza party."

"He's right, babe." Amanda chimed in. "It's time to sleep."

You throw your arms down to your sides in defeat and give Shayne a pleading look.

"Sorry." Shayne shrugs. "Me and Court are bathing the cats tonight."

"You guys are lame!" You exclaim. "You have your whole lives to sleep and bathe cats! You have only one night to rally at Ardovino's!"

"Ardovino's isn't going anywhere." Shayne retorts. "Look, we all promise, we'll do it another time."

"But I'm not gonna be here for the next week and a half!" You playfully whine. "It could go bankrupt and shut down by then!"

Spencer closely watches you from behind the cameras with a subtle smirk. The scene of you insisting they all go out never gets old to him. You get so passionate. Your eyes grow wider than they already are. You pitch dinner like it's life or death. A trait of yours Spencer has always adored.

Spencer makes his way over from behind the cameras to start putting up the mic equipment. "Y/N," He shakes his head and chuckles to himself as he wraps up various cords. "I don't think that place is in danger of shutting down as long as your around."

You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I don't think there's been a single week that's gone by since I've known you, that you haven't eaten from there." Spencer says, eyebrows raised. And a smile he couldn't get rid of, even if he tried.

"What else am I supposed to do? I make up like half their business." You joked. "Since none of my 'so called friends' have ever even set foot in the joint."

Shayne, Chanse, and Amanda are all getting up from the table, getting ready to go home for the weekend. While you keep sitting there, looking up at Spencer, with that smile he thinks about when he's all alone.

Spencer had eyes for you since you first met. Something only a close observer, and of course, Kiana, would know. You weren't just obviously and immediately stunning- you were the funniest person Spencer has ever met. And in his eyes, that was the most attractive quality a person could have. You were also incredibly caring and warm, of course. You gave steadfast support and generosity to the people in your life. The things that came out of your mouth consistently took him by surprise- whether it was your unwavering wit, completely unique observations about the world, or the most thoughtfully crafted and kindest compliments. Spencer knows you as one of the strangest and greatest people in his life.

The one thing Spencer didn't notice about you- was your clear feelings for him.

It took you guys a while to become good friends. His crush on you made him shy. But you eventually wiggled your way into his shell. And he was more than happy to accommodate you. It had almost been a year since you really formed a genuine and intimate friendship with him outside of work. Playful teasing. Inside jokes. Carpooling. Cat sitting. Late night phone calls. Stories you've never told anyone else. Testing games for the channel at Spencer's place. Ordering in. Falling asleep together on his couch.

All while you adored everything about him. His laugh. His unfiltered jokes. His attentiveness. His green eyes. His tattoos. His arms.

The same arm he was currently nudging you on the shoulder with. "Okay, fine." He groaned. "You win. Let's go to Ardovino's."

Amanda and Chanse stop in their tracks and give each other a knowing look of excitement. They, of course, being the only ones to know about your feelings for Spencer.

"Really?!" You swelled. "Wait, are you being serious?!"

Spencer laughed.

"Wait, Spencer, really?! No way! Really?!"

His eyes could fall out of his head with the way he's looking at you.

"Spencer!" You tugged on his hand and started shaking it. "Are we really gonna go to Ardovino's?!? Finally?!?"

Spencer stays quiet as he grins and basks in your excitement. That smile. Those eyes. Your excited shrill. Your hands touching his.

"Spencer!!" You give him another shake.

It pulls him out of your eyes and back into the moment. "Yes, yes. Just let me get some actual clothes on. I'll pick you up at eight o'clock."

"Oh wait," With raised eyebrows, your tone and posture softens. "Now I feel bad. I don't want you to have to change."

"Well it's a nice place, right?" He shrugs. "Can't go in like this." He motions to his old champion hoodie.

"Wait, no, nevermind." You say. "It's okay, Spence. I don't wanna put you out like that. I know you're tired."

"Yeah, y/n, you're really putting me out." He mocks. "Going to dinner with a beautiful thing like you. How burdensome."

Beautiful?

You give him a quizzical look, but can't help the huge smile creeping on your face and the color rushing to your cheeks. Your suddenly extremely aware of your grip on his hand. It starts to feel very hot, almost burning.

"Relax." Spencer says, very softly, almost a whisper. "I wanna go with you. I'll be at your place at eight, okay?"

As he looks down at you with a smirk, there's something in his eyes that excites you. But also starts making the eye contact between the two of you intense.

You can barely utter out "Okay."

"Okay." He says with a smile, again in that soft tone. He gives your hand a squeeze before turning to leave.

Your eyes linger on the door as he exits the game stage. He left you with a smile you can't seem to shake.

Amanda and Chanse are gripping each others shoulders with their jaws on the floor as you slowly turn your body to face them.

Shayne is oblivious.

---

"Okay." You let out a breath as you give your outfit a onceover in the mirror.

"Now that's a first date fit." Chanse says eating popcorn from your couch.

"Chanse. I don't know how many times I have to say this- but this isn't a date. I basically begged him to take me to dinner."

"That's not what I saw. He couldn't wait to pick you up at eight." Chanse mimics Spencer in a provocative tone.

"Well it's just dinner, Chanse. Me and Spencer eat together all the time."

"Yeah, at the office or your guys' apartments. Not at a fancy, romantic pizzeria."

"It's not fancy or romantic."

"He called you beautiful."

You scoff. "I call you beautiful all the time. What? Is this a date? Are we dating now?"

"Yeah but he obviously likes you."

"You know you keep saying that, and then nothing happens. He's never made a move- or done literally anything to indicate he's into me."

"What are you talking about?! It's happened like a million times! You always just brush it off!"

"I don't brush him off!"

"Yes you do. You brush him off because you're too scared of rejection."

You roll your eyes. "Well, Chanse, normal people are plenty scared of rejection."

Chanse puts his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. "Oh am I not normal?"

"No." You emphasize. "You're some superhuman freak. You can just walk up to anybody and start flirting."

"And you wanna know what the worst thing that happened was?"

You tilt your head at him and put your hands on your hips.

"They didn't reciprocate. And I just keep on living."

"Yeah, but if Spencer rejects me..." You trail off defeatedly. You search for the words, and suddenly the weight of all that you'd feel if Spencer were to reject you comes crashing down. "I couldn't just brush that off, Chanse. I like him. So much. It'd crush me."

"Well, I think living in this limbo of unknown feelings and 'what ifs?' for the rest of your life- would crush you even more."

Your phone buzzes with a text from Spencer.

On my way :)

"Shit, that's him." Your heart sinks. Suddenly this all becomes very real and the fact that you and Spencer are going to be having a candlelight dinner sends nerves throughout your entire body.

"You need to get out of here before he comes." You pull Chanse off the couch and take away the bowl of popcorn.

As you push him towards the door Chanse laughs. "If it's not a date, why can't I stay?"

You stop and he turns to face you.

"I mean it's just two friends getting together, right? Why don't I just tag along, too?" Chanse smirks.

You're ready to call his bluff.

"The more the merrier." You smile.

"Great."

Silence surrounds the staring contest between the two of you.

"It's not a date, Chanse."

"Then why'd you choose that underwear?"

You roll your eyes and start pushing him out the door again. "Goodbye."

Chanse manages a very rushed "Use protection!" before you slam the door on him.

---

In the car, on the way to your apartment, Spencer gets a call. It's Kiana.

He answers the phone from the bluetooth system on the steering wheel. "Hello?"

"Why did I just get a text from Chanse that you and y/n are going on a date?" Kiana questions.

"Date? I mean, we're going to dinner?"

"And you didn't tell me?! This is your chance Spence!"

Spencer rolls his eyes. Then an idea strikes him. "Wait, date? Is that the word Chanse used?"

"Well, no. He said you two are going to Ardovino's right now. Alone."

"Well yeah, Kiana, that's not a date."

"You can make it one."

Spencer furrows his eyebrows. "What does that even mean?"

"I mean, you want it to be a date, right? And I can bet you, she wants it to be a date, too."

"I don't think so."

"Spencer, y/n obviously likes you."

"Then why haven't they told me?"

"Why haven't you told them?!"

"You know why, Kiana. I can't risk that. If I put everything out there, and they don't feel the same way..." Spencer follows the trail of thought where he confesses his feelings. You rejecting him. You distancing yourself from him. No longer being friends. No longer being able to make you laugh. No more late night phone calls. No more you. You weren't something he was willing to lose. "It'd ruin everything."

"But if you go on like this, you'll lose y/n either way. They'll eventually meet someone who'll actually make a move."

For a while, there's a silence where only the cars on the road can be heard.

"There's always gonna be that what if in your head if you don't just go for it. And it'll be too late." Kiana says. "A nice dinner is the perfect place to tell her how you feel."

---

As Spencer shuffles up the steps to your apartment, Kiana's words couldn't get out of his head. What if you did meet someone else? The thought of anyone else being with you- hugging you, kissing you, making you laugh- stung.

He knocks on your door.

What if you did want this to be a date? What if this was his chance? What if he told you his feelings and you told him yours back? What if he kissed you and you kissed him back? What if-

All at once, Spencer's thoughts go quiet and his breath hitches. You open the door. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His eyes are more than happy to take you all in. He's too preoccupied staring at you to even greet you.

"Hi." You sheepishly say after a few seconds of silence.

Spencer looked so handsome. And the smell of his cologne was intoxicating.

"H- hey." He let out with a lot of air and a huge smile. You can see him looking over all of you. "You look..." He meets your eyes. "You're gorgeous."

You smile and feel the warmth rush to your cheeks, as well as to the pit of your stomach. "Thanks, Spence." You step closer to him and playfully tug on the collar of his white polo shirt. "You look very handsome." You giggle.

A playful moment, quickly turns into tension you could cut with a knife. Your faces now, just inches apart. Your hand still on his collar. Eye contact unbroken.

You look down at his lips for a split second when you suddenly hear a car horn down the street. It makes you guys jump back and laugh.

"Well..." You break the silence. "I thought we could walk there. It's only like ten minutes down the street. If that was okay with you?"

"Sounds perfect." Spencer smiles. He offers out his arm, doing his gentleman voice. "M'lady?"

You laugh. "M'lord." You link arms with his.

The walk there is filled with a very comfortable silence. It's not lost on you how nice being this close to him feels. You have a tight grip on his bicep.

Spencer is more than happy. Such a beautiful person like you, wrapped around his arm. He keeps almost running into things with how many times he's looking at you.

As you walk in to the restaurant, the older southern hostess, Lynn, you've seen many, many times greets you by name. "Hey, y/n! Welcome!"

Spencer laughs. "Come here that often, huh?"

You smile and roll your eyes at him.

"So who's the handsome fella?" Asks Lynn.

"Oh, this is Spencer." You say, gesturing your hand toward him.

"Well, Spencer, it's nice to meet you." Lynn smiles. "I hope you know you are one lucky man to be out on a date with this one!"

As you open your mouth to correct her, Spencer agrees. "Well, more like the luckiest man alive."

Lynn laughs. "Aw, well, ain't that cute? Right this way you two."

You give Spencer a bewildered look. But, of course, a huge smile on your face. Was Chanse actually right? Was this a date?

He doesn't look back at you. Instead he links your arm with his and leads you as he's walking.

His heart beating out of his chest. His nerves feel like fire. He was so nervous, but also, relishing this moment.

Lynn lets you know your waitress is on the way and walks away. Spencer pulls out your chair and helps you in. He sits down and starts looking at the menu.

You see a cool, calm, collected, nonchalant Spencer turning through the pages. Yet, what you don't know is, he's too scared to make eye contact with you.

You pick up your menu trying to follow his lead. But can't think straight. You haven't stopped smiling. A few moments go by and you keep putting down your menu to say something, but then go back to reading it.

Finally, with a huge smile, and raised eyebrows you say, "A date?"

Spencer freezes and looks up at you. "Hmm?"

"You're the luckiest man alive to be on a date with me?"

"Uh.." Spencer shifts in his seat. "You know.. uh- well... yeah."

Your heart flips.

"I mean, look at you." He gestures at you like it's obvious. "If this was a date, I'd be the luckiest man alive."

If?

Before you can say anything the waitress comes.

---

Dinner was great. It was just like any other time between the two of you. Great conversation. Lots of laughter. Untold stories. Except you were admiring his lips throughout your meal. And when you'd look away, so was he.

After an awkward fight for the bill, he wins.

He opens the door for you on the way out. You guys stand outside and just look at each other. No words are spoken, but you can feel a tension. Then you both instinctively laugh at the same time.

"Well..."

"Well.."

You didn't want this night to end. You look at the place across the street you go to often, and an idea strikes.

"Up for dessert?" You ask. "That place has the best churros in LA."

"Hell yeah." He extends his arm out to you again, and you take it. You guys find a break in between cars to jog across the street.

"¡Hola, hermosa!" Rita, the woman who owns the small churro stand, and at this point, a close personal friend, greets you. "Nice to see you!"

"Hi, Rita." You smile.

"Been here a lot, too, huh?" Spencer laughs.

"Shut up."

"This you boyfriend?" Rita asks.

You and Spencer both look at each other. Both of you secretly wishing you could answer 'yes' to that question.

"That's what everyone seems to think." You chuckle.

"Let me get a picture!" She says motioning to the cork board full of polaroids of couple who have eaten here.

"Oh, Rita, it's okay. We're ju-" Before you can finish your sentence she is out there with her camera.

"Okay, c'mon, c'mon, get close." She motion at the two of you.

You look at Spencer. "I'm so sorry, is this okay?"

"It's totally fine." He laughs.

He put his arm around your waist.

A chill rushes through you.

"One. Two. Three."

The camera clicks.

"Okay now kiss!"

You laugh awkwardly. "Oh, it's okay-"

"C'mon! Kiss!" Rita insists. "C'mon, such a good photo!"

Spencer and you look at each other with awkward smiles, not knowing what to do. You did want to kiss him, of course, but not like this. Not for the first time.

"I'll give you a peck on the cheek." Spencer whispers. "If that's okay with you."

You look up at him, flustered. "Oh, yeah, yeah. That's good."

He plants a kiss on your cheek. A sweet and intimate moment that makes both of your stomachs flutter. Rita snaps the photo.

"Beautiful!" Rita exclaims. "I'll bring out your usual now, okay?"

You and Spencer sit and wait on the curb in front of the stand. Rita brings one large churro and a huge cup of horchata to you guys and hands it to Spencer.

As you go through your stuff to pull out your cash, Spencer moves for his wallet. "Oh no, I got it, y/n."

"No, no, no!" Rita smiles. "On the house for the happy couple." She points at Spencer. "Just treat y/n right."

"Yes ma'am." Spencer chuckles.

"Oh! And here you go. One for you." Rita hands you the polaroid of Spencer kissing you on the cheek. "See? Such a good photo."

Rita walks away, and you and Spencer sit in a moment of silence looking at the picture.

"Wow." He breaks it. "You usually eat all this by yourself?" He laughs.

You hit his arm and giggle. "No! I come here with Chance... sometimes."

Spencer lets air escape his nose. He looks over to you with an endearing smile. Something in his tone shifted "And she never thinks Chanse is your boyfriend?"

"Well..." You blush and bring the photo closer to show him. "I guess you and I just have that undeniable chemistry." You joke.

"Yeah I mean, I get it." He says, placing the food down at his side, and grabbing the photo from you. "That's one handsome couple."

You both chuckle. As the sound fades and it's just the two of you in silence, you stare deep into each others eyes. Spencer notices a spark in yours that seems to be new.

It seems like every sign was telling you this was a date. Other people were literally telling you this was a date. Looking into his eyes, your heart swelled up to your throat. You cleared it, breaking the silence.

You leaned your body against Spencer to reach across him to get the churro that was on his other side. "Well..." You gesture for him to take a bite as you hold it. "Tell me what you think."

---

You threw your trash away and said bye to Rita.

"Onward?" Spencer, once again, offers his arm.

"Onward." You smile taking it.

Now, on the opposite side of the street, you pass your favorite café. It's pretty empty and there is a small jazz band out front you've seen play there plenty of times.

"Hey!" Mr. Reeves, the old pianist, stops playing when he sees you. The band follows with greetings as well.

"Hello, Mr. Reeves. Hello, everyone. How are you?"

"Well, I'm much better now after seeing you!" Mr. Reeves offers a friendly smile.

"Jesus, you really get out a lot, huh?" Spencer whispers in your ear and nudges your side. You look up at him and roll your eyes.

"Does your boyfriend here wanna dance?" Mr. Reeves asks.

"Jesus, you really get mistaken for my boyfriend a lot, huh?" You both laugh.

"Well, son? Are you gonna ask this pretty young thing to dance or not?" Mr. Reeves asks. The rest of the band joins in, egging Spencer on.

After a moment, of looking at each other. Spencer gives you a playful shrug. "Why not?" Spencer unlinks his arm from yours and offers his hand. "Will you do me the honors?"

You look at him in amazement. Your heart beating out of your chest. This was really happening. With a smile so wide, you take his hand.

The band starts playing your favorite old-timey love song you've told them so much about.

Spencer has a hand around each side of your waist, with a firm grasp. You have your hand wrapped around the back of his neck. You hadn't been this close to him for this long, ever. Without saying anything and only the occasional break in eye contact, you sway side to side on the pavement.

Once you both were able to push past the nerves, it was pure bliss. Spencer had the person of his dreams in his hands. He still hadn't gotten over how beautiful you looked tonight- tripping over his words during conversations you had throughout the night. He knew he couldn't push down his feelings any longer. Everyone thinking you were a couple, kissing you on the cheek, dancing with you- if all of this was a possibility for the two of you going forward, it was worth the risk of anything. He had to let you know how he felt. He was in love.

And you knew in that moment, you felt the same way.

As the song ended, the band started clapping for you both.

"Thanks for that." Spencer places some cash in a hat the band had in front of them. "Seriously thank you." He whispers to Mr. Reeves. Spencer would put his entire bank account in that hat to thank them for giving him that moment with you.

"So..." You giggle.

"So." Spencer repeats with a warm smile. This time, he offers his hand for you to hold. You happily take it. "Just no more detours, okay?" You both laugh.

As he guides you up the steps to your front porch you don't let go of his hand. And he doesn't let go of yours. You lean your back against the door, and give him a big smile.

You can't keep it in anymore.

"Well, Spencer. I think you just might be the luckiest man alive."

"Oh really? Why's that?" He grabs your other hand now too.

"Dinner, dancing, kissing... I think that was a date."

"Well, since that was a date..." A smile grew on his face. "That was the best date I've ever been on."

Your heart is pounding out of your chest. His too.

"Me too." You whisper.

You stare into each others eyes. And a brand new kind of silence embraces you both. You let go of his hand and pull on his collar again, bringing him a few inches from your lips. His hands go to your waist.

You stare at each other again. This time, obvious glances to each others lips. Your faces slowly gravitate towards each other.

Your foreheads touch.

Then your noses.

Then your lips.

A peck at first, but then quickly becoming deeper. Your hands are tightly tugging his collar to pull him even closer into you. His hands are even tighter around your waist to pull you closer to him.

You pull away with your eyes closed and with a big smile. You take in some fresh air and open your eyes. Your heart stops when you open them, and he's already looking at you, like he's hungry. He places his forehead on yours again.

"Holy shit, I can't believe this is happening." You giggle. He does too.

"Me neither." You both close your eyes again. "I've wanted to do that for such a long time."

"Me too." You whisper.

"Can I kiss you again?" He asks.

You answer by kissing him. Deeper and harder than before. Nothing but smiles each time his and your lips part. His hand travels up your body, to the side of your chin and neck. With the other still firmly against your waist. Both you and Spencer's breathing gets heavier. A mmm escapes your lips. Which sends an excited chill through Spencer's body.

You both pull away not being able to say anything for a bit. Your chests rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breathes.

"Spencer." You say between breaths.

"Y/n."

"I'm gonna ask you something, okay? But just let me finish before you answer. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm gonna ask if you want to come inside." You say with a shaky voice. "But... I think I should tell you... I have feelings for you. I have... deep, strong, feelings." Spencer doesn't break the intense stare he is giving you. You ramble on. "And if something were to happen in there, it would mean a lot more to me than just one night. I'd want something more than just that. I'd want you. Like, in a relationship, or whatever." You swallow the lump in your throat. Your pace quickens. "And if you don't feel the same way, that's totally okay. I'll be happy looking back on this night as a fun, spontaneous thing, you know? I'll be okay. And I'd wanna still be friends." Tears start to build in your eyes and you can feel your throat get heavier. "But I can't go any further if you don't feel the same way. Because if that happens... It's more than just a fun, spontaneous thing for me. It's... everything. So when I ask you to come inside, you can only say yes if you feel the same. Okay?"

You let out a big sigh. "Do you wanna come in?"

"Y/n, I...." Spencer closely studies your face. He gently wipes a tear that had fallen down your cheek. He takes your hand and places it over his chest. You can feel his heart beating rapidly.

"I love you." He says. "I wanna be with you... even if nothing else happens. I just want you. I always have. There's nothing I want more than just you. I love you."

"I love you too."

You smile and let out a breath of relief. Your lips and bodies embrace each other once again. You open the door, and he follows you inside.

#smoshblr #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfiction #spencer agnew fanfic #spencer agnew imagine #smosh rpf #smosh fanfiction

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heyhay13 · 2 days

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Lightning Round QnA!

We had over 250 questions in the form and we focused on ones that were very open to anyone in the cast. So specific detail questions got left out :(

Here's a lightning round of questions to answer for y'all and my ask box is open if you have more!

Rae/Heyhay Questions

What happened to Icarus's birds?? We know Rae said he'd take care of them, but with the birds being wacked and Icarus whole memory type thing, what would happen with that.

Sherb and I talked about this a bit and landed on the birds seeking out Rae and he builds an aviary for the strange new little friends following him around. I might even write a fic for it!

Heyhay how long did the scrapbook (shown at the end) take to be made?

I worked on it for nearly a month and a half between organizing with the artists and making it myself!

How did you come up with Vaeh's Name?

It's from Fenris' sister Nevaeh!

Will you continue to cosplay the characters after this?

Absolutely!

To Rae/Hayhay: what was your favorite memory to make in the Always Remember Book?

I think probably all of the wedding details. I loved talking with my friends to plan out the details and outfits SO MUCH and a lot of the poses are based on my own wedding photos!

Are there any plot lines that you wish you could have done or explored more in depth, but couldn't due to time?

We initially had some ideas for finding a few more Telchin temples, including Project Protetus. I really like building the temple/facilities so that would have been fun!!

How did lore planning/pre stream work?

We usually plan out rough ideas for a stream in dms and then meet 30 minutes before a stream to go over everything, dry run some things like flight paths, and do sound checks!

Out of all the characters on fable smp, which one do you think you could win in a fight against?

Ven lol

Will we see other versions of the fable characters in other smp's like Bound?

You might >:3

If your character didn’t ascend, what would they be the god of? And if they did ascend, were there any other domains they could have been the god of other than the domain they got?

Rae's took FOREVER to actually land on. I was really stuck on wanting something that felt more correct than Knowledge and we tossed around a lot of ideas until landing on Wonder.

How much of the relationship constellation was planned?

Literally only Raax and Ocie's original partners (Rust, Jerry, Shawn) were planned! The others came about naturally as the lore progressed.

Did Rae ever get better at baking/cooking?

YES! At least slightly-

How old is Rae in the time period that Rye made in Rae’s epilogue

Not an exact age for Rae, but his epilogue takes place when Vaeh is roughly 4-5 years old.

The first two seasons have “names” (endstone reset and skulk reset) but what would be season three’s?

I like to think it'd be called the "Last Reset"

What is your favourite kind of fanfictions written about your character? (Tropes/themes/etc)

I'm a massive sucker for Hurt/Comfort fics-

Clarification Questions

What was that one gold aura building near the temple of creation in S1?

It was a build from Sherb's hardcore world at that time!

Why did Rae remember Icarus? I thought everyone was supposed to forget but I might’ve misunderstood

Rae remembers Icarus as a child up until when Icarus' first death would have been! Isla would also remember Icarusa as a child as well.

Was the release me book from season one written by fable?

Yes!

What is Haley? She came back from the dead but no body ever said if Midas made her come back or if she was a god.

Midas brought her back, switching her and Fable's places so he would go back into Purgatory

Why couldn’t Haley see quixis’ changes from purgatory?(and fable)

There is no record of Quixis in the Akashic Records. This is also why Icarus is missing from the records in Rae's epilogue!

General Questions

Are you guys gonna do another smp where its everyone as the same cast?

Nope, not with this exact cast at this time, but we all are on a bunch of other smps you can check out! Mer, Bound, Siege, and more!

Is there a reason behind all of the seeds you use in Minecraft? Or is it just the first biome that pops up is the new setting for the season?

We actually look really hard for a good world seed that we like. For season 3, we really wanted a good spot that the tree could be near the ocean and this seed worked out great for that!

Will we be able to have a world file of S3?

YES - it's coming soon!

#fablesmp #fablesmpqna #qna #rae morningstar

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negrowhat · 7 hours

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Friends. Homies. Fam. Here is a list of SOME of the series I'm IMPATIENTLY anticipating the most. No one asked for this but I just felt like sharing.

Your Dear Daddy. The moment I saw Poonpun in that pink silk robe with the thigh tattoo and wearing that anklet in the promo pics I knew I wanted the series immediately. Obsessed! I'm excited for Fluke to be a lead finally because he deserves it and he and Poonpun seem to have excellent chemistry. I'm looking forward to Saitharn being saved by Sila who seems to be lost himself. I'm looking forward to watching Saitharn put it on Sila so good the first time that he decides that he's going to secretly rescue him and love him and worship him...because I know this whole tea farm debt is going to be a guise to keep Saitharn. I just know the series is going to be *chef's kiss*

Century of Love. I don't even know what the plot for this one is but the BTS pics are letting me know it's going to rip me in half. I'm expecting some scifi, soulmates, action, hurt/comfort, maybe some sacrifice, and romance. I'm most excited that we're getting more DaouOffroad and most importantly Daou's buzzcut because he looks soooooooooo good with it.

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans. IDK man...I don't even care about cooking series like that but I'm excited for more SailubPon and even more excited to finally get some GarfieldBenz after PB viciously teased us with them. I'm also looking forward to Sailub breaking every single health code while he fucks Pon across that industrial kitchen. And also??? Benz's character being unapologetically flirty with Garfield's??? GIMME!

4 Minutes. Highkey thought it wasn't even happening anymore because...well you know. But now Bible has a new partner and I'm excited once again. I just know 4 Minutes is going to break us all into pieces and I'm excited to see Bible shine like the star he is and I'm excited to see how his chemistry is with Jes. And I just know the aesthetic of the series and the actual plot is going to be 20/10...BOC sure has the funds to turn this series into a masterpiece.

Jack & Joker. YINWAR HAVE FINALLY RETURNED TO US! And they're not in school! Whoever they work for heard us say we wanted that Bonnie and Clyde criminal lovers series they dangled in our faces with that one fanmeet and decided to deliver. I'm excited to see Joker being the cheeky seemingly trustworthy mastermind thief and Jack doing whatever he can to protect him because he knows he won't be able to stop him from skillfully robbing people blind. I need more criminal romances in my life.

SunsetxVibes. Wild we're getting this before Big Dragon 2/The Movie. Even wilder that this series is ALSO based on an mpreg story. I am not particularly interested in omegaverse BUT just like Pit Babe I am making an exception because I know I'm going to enjoy the series and I miss MosBank. We thought the chemistry was insane with Big Dragon but they are closer than ever these days and I know it's going to translate beautifully one screen. Much like the title, I'm here just to vibe because I know the plot is gon be a mess.

#your dear daddy #your dear daddy the series #flukepoonpun #century of love #daouoffroad #this love doesn't have long beans #sailubpon #garfieldbenz #4 minutes #biblejes #jesbible #jack and joker #jack & Joker #yinwar #sunset x vibes #sunsetxvibes #mosbank

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the-offside-rule · 13 hours

Text

Zhou Guanyu (Stake Sauber) - Oblivious

Requested: NO BUT WE NEED MORE ZHOU CONTENT

Warnings: y/n being a complete idiot

GIF from @jamesvowles

Zhou Guanyu adjusted his sunglasses as he stepped into the cozy little coffee shop nestled in the corner of their favorite street. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafted through the air, making him smile. He glanced around, quickly spotting Y/n at their usual corner table, engrossed in a book. "Hey, Y/n." He called out, walking over and taking a seat across from her. Y/n looked up, her face breaking into a bright smile. "Zhou! You're right on time."

"Wouldn't miss it." He replied, returning her smile. He waved at the barista, signaling their usual orders. "So, what's the book today?" He asked. "It's a mystery novel." She said, closing the book and setting it aside. "You know me, always trying to solve things before the characters do." He smiled. "Yeah, you always were the clever one," he said, leaning forward slightly. "So, any plans for the weekend?"

"Not really. Just the usual, maybe a movie marathon. What about you?" Y/n shrugged. "Actually, I was thinking-" Zhou began, choosing his words carefully, as Y/n looked up from her book in curiosity. "It would be nice to do something together. Maybe go for a walk in the park, or catch that new movie you've been talking about." Y/n set her book aside, beaming. "That sounds fun! I always enjoy hanging out with you." Zhou felt a flicker of disappointment at her casual tone but pressed on. "You know, Y/n, there's something special about spending time with you. It's like… you make everything better."

"Aww, thanks, Zhou. You're such a good friend." She said, patting his hand across the table. Zhou chuckled softly, trying to keep his frustration in check. "Of course, I am a good friend." He repeated. "But sometimes, I wish you could see me as more than that." Y/n tilted her head, a puzzled look crossing her face. "More than a friend? Like a best friend?" Zhou took a deep breath, deciding to be more direct. "Y/n, what if I told you that I like you? Like, really like you." Y/n blinked, clearly taken aback. "Wait, what?"

"I like you, Y/n." Zhou said, his voice steady but gentle. "More than just as a friend." For a moment, Y/n sat in stunned silence, processing his words. "You… like me? As in… you have feelings for me?" Zhou nodded, watching her intently. "Yes, exactly. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I wasn't clear enough." Y/n's eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh my gosh, Zhou, I had no idea! I thought you were just being your usual sweet self."

Zhou smiled, relieved to finally have everything out in the open. "I was being my sweet self because I care about you a lot. And I wanted to see if maybe you felt the same way." Y/n's expression softened, and she reached across the table to take his hand. "Guanyu, I… I'm surprised, but in a good way. I never realized… but now that I think about it, maybe I've been feeling the same way too." Zhou's heart soared at her words. "Really?"

Y/n nodded, a shy smile spreading across her face. "Yeah, really. I guess I just needed a little nudge to see it." Zhou laughed, his relief turning into joy. "Well, I'm glad I finally said something. So, what do you say we organise a date?" Y/n squeezed his hand, her eyes twinkling. "I'd like that, Guanyu. I'd like that a lot."

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #f1 x reader #zhou guanyu #zhou guanyu x reader #zhou guanyu x you #zhou guanyu x y/n #zhou guanyu imagine #zhou guanyu oneshot #guanyu zhou #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic

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bqstqnbruin · 23 hours

Text

Forget About Us

Hello this is my first fic in like almost 6 months inspired by Forget About Us by Perrie Edwards

Thanks to my loves @nicohischier @assmanselke and @matthewtkachuk for yelling at me and letting me yell about this fic :)

Summary: Carson meets Jack, Jack falls for Carson, Carson does what she wants.

Word count: 7.4k

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, aNGST

Flashbacks are in italics. Also, I swear I read through this more than once but there might be errors unintentionally 😬

_________________________________________

Looking up into the stands, every game he plays in this city, he’s looking for her. He had been doing it for the past few years, always expecting to see her.

___________________________

“Can you stop pouting? We’re going to go out after the game,” Morgan begs.

“I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to be here or anywhere else besides my bed.”

Morgan rolls her eyes, sitting down in her seat. “Carson, you never go out.”

“Because I never want to go out,” she repeats. “I don’t have the money to go out.”

“The tickets were free from my job and I told you I would pay for your drinks tonight.”

“I don’t feel good,” Carson whines, knowing that it still wouldn’t be enough.

“You’re fine.”

“I’m on my period.”

“So am I, what’s your point?”

“Your period doesn’t make you double over in pain for three days.”

“This is the fourth day of your period when you have told me you always feel fine. And your period has been regular since you were fifteen when you went on birth control.”

“I don’t like that you know that.”

“Then maybe don’t tell me the same thing like a broken record every month?” Carson continues to pout, even though her friend is right. “Do you really not want to be here? We can leave after the first period if you really aren’t having fun. But, you do keep telling me you’ve been wanting to come to a game since we moved here.”

“No,” she drags out. “I just had a bad day at work.”

“What happened?”

The teams start coming out onto the ice for warm-ups, everyone booing the away team. It made no sense. They weren’t even actual rivals. The other team, from Carson’s understanding, was so inconsequential that they shouldn’t even matter. But who was she to argue?

“Anthony came by work today.”

“Anthony? Like Anthony, your ex, Anthony?”

“No, Anthony Michael Hall from The Breakfast Club.”

“What did he say?”

She and Morgan had this same conversation every week. “He wants to get back together.”

“And you told him, ‘no,’ right?”

“I’m grumpy, not stupid.”

Morgan sighs. Anthony kept showing up at the cafe Carson worked at between classes to ask for her back for the last month. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that they wanted wildly different things in their lives and that they weren’t going to work. Carson wanted to get her JD and leave New Jersey for good. She was tired of the debate over whether or not the central part of the state existed, if it was called Taylor Ham or Pork Roll, and which beach down the shore was the best. She wanted out as soon as possible, and Anthony wanted to stay here and settle down. He wanted someone who wanted to be at home with the kids, which Carson really didn’t want. The only way she could think about staying in New Jersey was if her partner wanted everything else she wanted. Whoever she ended up with had to be everything else to her. Anthony wasn’t it.

Morgan slowly forms a smile on her face, one that immediately makes Carson panic. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”

“Who said I’m going to do something that you’ll hate?”

“Every past action that you’ve done without talking to me about it first says you’re going to do something I’m going to end up hating.”

Morgan rolls her eyes, pulling out her wallet and handing Carson her debit card. “Here, you go get us beer and pizza so that way you don’t have to see what I’m about to do.” Carson sits there, Morgan shoving the card into her hands. “Go.”

Both of them get up from their seats, Carson feeling a sense of panic as she watches her roommate go down to the ice while typing furiously on her phone. Carson tries to get back to their seats as fast as she can, worried about what antics she was about to be dragged into. She wanted to be home early that night so she could start studying for one of her exams that week. She did not have time to do whatever it was that Morgan was planning to do.

“Here,” Morgan hands her something as she sits back down, Carson still trying to figure out how to balance two overflowing drinks and two slices of pizza larger than her own head. “I got this for you.”

“You got me a puck?”

“Yes.”

“Ok?”

“You could say thank you.”

“Thank you for a piece of rubber that could probably break a bone if you get hit with it hard enough.”

“You’ll get the rest of what I got you tonight.”

“I swear to god,” Carson starts. “I’m not god, but I am close to a goddess.”

Carson groans, trying to focus on anything other than the terror that she was sure was about to come to her tonight. One of the players kept looking up at her, over his shoulder and seemingly ignoring his teammates. “What did you do?”

Morgan shrugs, nudging Carson’s shoulder as she waves at the player. “His name is Jack.”

“Just because I’m studying law, that doesn’t mean I’m above breaking at least one of them.”

“Yes, it does.”

The game starts, Carson’s eyes staying on the one player who had been watching her before. He gave her the vibes of someone who would end up naked and drunk in the hallway of her dorm in college, passed out and unsure of where his pants or keys were.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Morgan asks once the second period starts.

Carson doesn’t make a noise, just nodding. He was the exact type of mistake she would make on a night out when she needed to forget about something. “Why does he keep staring?”

“Probably for the same reason you’re staring at him even if you do look like you want to kill him.” Carson turns to glare at Morgan. “I’m just saying, you might be hot, but you also look like you could commit a felony right now.”

Carson sighs, waiting for the end of the game. She had no idea what was going on, but Morgan seemed to be into it at least.

Carson lets out a yawn as the fans start to file out of the arena, Morgan dragging her along behind her. “Can we please just go home?”

“No, I have a surprise for you.”

“Last time you had a surprise for me, I ended up needing three of my tires replaced.”

“And they gave you the fourth one for free, anyway,” Morgan grabs Carson’s hand, pulling her in the direction of some bar she wouldn’t remember the name of in the morning.

Carson knew that no matter how much she complained to Morgan, her friend would have something to counter every whine. They had lived together all four years of college before finally somehow scraping together enough money to each get their own places, despite the fact that they were still neighbors in their apartment building. Morgan, unfortunately, could get Carson to do anything she asked her to since she knew exactly how to make it so Carson wouldn’t say no. Most of the time, it involved physically dragging Carson places, like she was doing right now, but it always somehow worked.

“I’m paying for drinks,” Morgan tells her, dropping Carson’s hand as they two walk into the unreasonably crowded and slightly smelly bar.

“Yeah, like that was in question,” Carson tells her.

“You go sit down, I’ll find you.”

Morgan leaves Carson alone. The scene around her made her want to run away, except for the fact that Morgan could track her location and would not be above chasing her down the street and dragging her back to the bar. Everyone seemed like they were five drinks in, Carson feeling anxious about being what seemed to be the only sober person around.

“You ok?” a voice comes behind her, snapping her out of her potential spiral. She turns around, the guy from the game standing in front of her.

“This isn’t real,” she mutters, shaking her head. How the hell did Morgan manage this?

“What?” the guy asks, understandably confused.

“Sorry,” Carson says. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I’m dehydrated.”

“Can I get you water, then?”

“No.”

“But, wouldn’t that help with the dehydration thing?”

Carson stares at him, dumbfounded. “I can get water myself,” she says, her tone a little harsher than she intended it to be.

“I’m Jack,” he introduces himself, not getting the message at all.

“That’s nice.”

“Do you have a name?”

“No, that spot on my birth certificate has been blank for the last twenty four years. Everyone calls me whatever nickname they can think of. The current one is ‘Maverick.’”

Jack opens his mouth to say something, Morgan appearing in between them before he can get a word in. “You actually came!”

“How could I pass up coming to meet someone as sweet as your friend here after the game?”

Carson barely knew him, but she already knew he would be a thorne in her side.

“She’s already been mean to you, hasn’t she?” Morgan laughs, finally handing Carson the drink she got for her.

“Hey,” Carson tries to protest, despite both of them ignoring her.

“It’s fine. It’s kinda hot,” he smirks, staring at Carson. She didn’t care that she couldn’t help but stare back, her cheeks bright red at his words.

___________________________

She always sat in the same general area, a few rows from the top of the section right behind their bench. It was easy to find her. How could he not at least try?

___________________________

“Why are you anxious?” Morgan asks, plopping down on Carson’s couch.

“Who said I was anxious?”

“You’re scrunchie.”

“What could that possibly mean?”

“You’re scrunching your brow so much and frowning so hard that you have wifi symbols showing on your face. You only do that when you’re anxious.”

“Please don’t say that to me ever again.” Carson lets out a sigh. She shouldn’t be anxious. She’s done things that were so much more difficult than this. She graduated with a 4.0 GPA in high school and college. She participated in every possible extra curricular that she could, and did so perfectly. She had her life scheduled down to the minute, when she would study, eat, have free time. She didn’t have time to be anxious. “Jack is supposed to be here any minute.”

Morgan lets out a squeal so high that Carson covers her ears. “You’re finally going on a date with him?”

“If you want to call it that.”

“Tell me everything,” Morgan says, plopping herself at Carson’s feet.

“No.”

“Carson,” Morgan whines.

“Morgan,” Carson counters. “I don’t even know where we’re going. From what it sounds like, it’s not even going to be just us, it’s something with the team.”

“He’s taking you to meet the rest of his team?” she yells.

“If you get that loud again, I’m throwing you out the window.”

“We both know your window doesn’t open far enough for me to get out of it, we’ve tried. Anyway,” Morgan continues, ignoring Carson’s annoyance, as usual. “That means something if he already wants you to know his teammates.”

“It means he already had plans with them when he asked me to go out with him and is dragging me somewhere I wasn’t otherwise invited.”

“You could be positive sometimes, you know.”

“There’s no fun in that.”

“Carse,” Morgan says, “He wouldn’t be inviting you if he didn’t like you. He wouldn’t have been texting you every waking moment that he could if he didn’t like you.”

“It’s kind of annoying.”

“That’s because you are a black hole personified and he’s the human equivalent of a dumb puppy.”

Carson scrunches her face while she looks at her friend. “That’s mean.”

“I’m trying to say that you two are different. And that’s ok. He’s more extroverted than you are. You’re still going to have fun because you’re going to be with him.” Carson looks at her, unsure. “If you’re not fine, I have your location and I will come join you guys, or come pick you up.”

“Why am I nervous?”

“Probably because this is the first guy you’re going out with that doesn’t look like a dead baby bird.”

“Sometimes, inside thoughts can stay inside.”

“My point,” Morgan starts, pulling Carson up to lead her out the door, “Is that he’s not your normal type and you don’t know what to do, so you’re panicking. But, again, you’ll be fine.”

Before Carson could say anything else, a knock came from the other side of her door. Morgan opens it, Jack standing there with his hands in his jeans pocket.

“Wow,” Morgan verbalizes what Carson was thinking as she tries not to ogle at Jack. His jeans fit him way more perfectly than she would have liked, the t-shirt he had on showing off his arms in a way that made her feel like she was actually about to start drooling. For fucks sake.

“I think Carson is supposed to say that,” Jack jokes, leaning against the door frame.

“Jesus Christ,” Carson groans, Morgan laughing as she pushes her way past Jack to head back to her place.

“Actually, they call me Jack.”

“If you keep this up all night, I’m not leaving this apartment.”

“Is this your way of asking me to come in?”

“Absolutely not. We’re going now to meet your friends or you’re going by yourself.”

Carson didn’t see Jack physically swoon at Carson as she walked past him, a stupid grin on his face as he watched her walk away from him.

___________________________

Morgan was sitting next to her, the two of them seeing less of each other now that they didn’t live with or next to each other anymore. Carson was laughing at something Morgan was telling her, the smile on her face reaching her eyes.

___________________________

“What are you doing right now?”

Carson groaned, knowing that any time Jack was asking her to do something lately, it was to pull her away from something she actually had to get done. “Studying.”

“When’s the test?”

“Next week.”

“Come out with me.”

“No.”

“I’m picking you up, I’m turning onto your street now.”

Jack hangs up before Carson can protest, her immediately texting Morgan to tell her she was being kidnapped.

‘You aren’t being kidnapped, you aren’t a kid.’

‘Kidnapping is anytime a person’s liberty is restrained by force and taken to another location.’

Before Morgan could text back, Jack was knocking at her door.

“I’m not going.”

“Come on. Half an hour?” he begs her. Carson glares at him. “I’ll buy ice cream.”

“I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Says that three cheese pizza you downed the other night.” Carson continues to glare at him. “Please? I’m leaving tomorrow for a week and a half. It’ll be the last time I can bother you until then.”

Carson rolls her eyes, shutting her textbook with her highlighter keeping her page like a bookmark. “I’m studying in the car.” Jack smiles at her, holding his hand out for her. Carson smirks, grabbing another book from her table and putting it in his hands instead.

Jack runs to follow her, his free hand on the small of her back, a smile on his face as she didn’t fight it. They get in his car, the windows down and the radio blasting as he peels away from where he was parked.

Jack starts talking, Carson not listening in the slightest as she continues to read the book in her lap, just like she promised.

“Wait, shut up,” Carson finally says, reaching over to turn up the music that was already loud. “I love this song.”

Jack laughs, glancing at her as he pulls up to a stop light. “Seriously? 1985 by Bowling for Soup?”

“My childhood best friend and I would listen to this song all the time growing up,” Carson explains,the smile on her face something Jack rarely got to see but loved every time. Jack’s smile mirrored hers as she started to sing along. He couldn’t help but laugh again as he listened to her. “What?”

“You are a horrible singer.”

“Yeah, because you would be better,” she snides, looking back at her book.

“Oh, of course I would be,” he says, starting to sing along with her.

Carson cackles, a sound Jack had never heard from her before. “You are just as bad as I am.”

___________________________

He thought of her whenever that song played, his heart beating faster every time the opening guitar riff played through whatever speaker he was near. He never purposefully listened to that song. The song never played in any of the arenas they played in, except for Rogers Arena, like it was now.

___________________________

“What do you mean, ‘we’re going out tonight?’” Carson groans.

“You just finished finals, Quinn is in town, and we’re heading down the shore for the weekend.”

“So I have to pack for a whole weekend?”

“Unless you plan on wearing the same thing for four days, I suggest you do,” Jack says, Morgan laying on Carson’s bed laughing.

“I wish you were helpful,” Carson says, throwing a shirt at Morgan. “I’m not here to be helpful, I’m here to be comic relief.”

“Then you should try being funny sometimes.”

Jack laughs, his phone buzzing with a call. “I’ll be right back,” he says, getting up and answering it out of Carson’s room.

Once he was out of earshot, Morgan sits up, a giddy look on her face that caused a pit to form in Carson’s stomach. “You’re going away with him for a weekend!” Carson grimaces. “You aren’t excited?”

Carson sighs, getting up to close her door so Jack can’t hear them. “I think he wants more from whatever this is than I do.”

“What do you mean?” Morgan whispers.

“I can’t see a relationship with him.”

“Carse, he’s perfect.”

“He kind of is. Which is why I don’t see it. Anthony was perfect.”

“No, Anthony was the human equivalent of a stale ham sandwich who, if brains were money, wouldn’t have been able to buy a cup of coffee.”

“Go eat something.”

“What?”

“Your metaphors turn food related when you’re hungry.”

“My point is,” Morgan says, getting up. “Anthony is not Jack. Don’t ruin something before it starts because of something that happened with someone else.” “Hey,” Jack says, startling both of them. “Sorry, Luke was asking if we were on his way to pick him up. Are we ready to head out?”

___________________________

He was so busy staring at her that he didn’t realize that Luke had skated up to his side.

“You didn’t know she’d be here?” Jack shakes his head. “Quinn doesn’t know you still love her?”

He shakes his head.

___________________________

Carson hated to admit it, but she was having a good time. She hated to admit that she needed to relax, especially after the intensity that she had when she was taking finals. They were sitting around a fire one of them had set up on the beach, the smell of smoke hitting Carson right in the face, the night air starting to chill around them. The guys were all laughing, their partners sitting in their laps as a few of them fell asleep.

“Where’s Quinn?” Luke leans over Carson to ask Jack.

“You have his location,” Carson says before Jack can answer. The brothers keep anticipating Quinn with every new person that shows up, their usually prompt brother still MIA.

“I don’t know where my phone is.”

“What’s that in your left hand, bud?”

“Right,” Luke draws out as Carson and Jack both laugh at him. “He’s supposed to be here any minute.”

Luke gets up to head back to the house for what he claims is to use the bathroom. “He hasn’t been drunk in a while. He gets dumber as he drinks,” Jack tells her.

Carson checks the can of beer he left behind. “Isn’t this his first drink of the night?”

“Yeah, why?”

“This can is still full.”

“He might just be dumb.”

“Bold of you to call someone else dumb,” an unfamiliar voice comes from behind their circle around the fire.

“I was just about to say that,” Carson says to the guy who must be Quinn, given how much he looks like his brother.

“God, I never realized there’s two of you,” Jack says to Quinn, the color draining from his face.

“I don’t think you’d survive with two of me,” Carson says, Jack mumbling something about going to the house for a minute as he gets up, a smile on his face anyway.

“So, you must be Carson?” Quinn asks her.

“What was your first clue?” she tries to flirt, taking a sip of her drink while maintaining eye contact with him. She knew that Jack was cute, but there was something different about Quinn. She and Jack were opposites. She and Quinn were the same.

___________________________

He still loved the way she looked in that old hoodie that she stole, the team logo faded and cut through, the number that was supposed to be the right side of her chest gone. He remembered when she stole that, the way her eyes lit up the first time he saw her in it as she told him she liked that she could wear it while he was traveling and he would still be with her.

___________________________

“Who’s picking up Carson?” Ellen yells up the stairs.

“I am,” Quinn and Jack both called at the same time, Jack’s mind running wild at the fact that his brother answered with him. Since meeting Quinn a few weeks ago, Carson had been mentioning him a lot more in their conversations. He shouldn’t be bothered by it. They never actually established that they were dating. Sure, they had hooked up, and sure, it was all Jack could think about since, but they were never dating.

He wasn’t Carson’s boyfriend.

“We both are,” Jack amends, running down the stairs when he hears Quinn do the same.

The brothers get in Quinn’s car, a smile across Quinn’s face while Jack can feel himself start to panic. “So, you’re excited to see Carson?”

“Yeah,” Quinn lets out. “I’ve missed Car.”

“Car?”

“That’s what I call her sometimes, yeah.”

“Doesn’t everyone else call her ‘Carse’ if they don’t call her Carson?”

Quinn laughs. “She said she likes when I call her ‘Car,’ instead.” Quinn keeps talking the rest of the way to the airport, both boys getting a text from her saying that she had just landed.

Neither boy had seen Carson in weeks, but it seemed like she had been talking to Quinn much more than she had been talking to Quinn.

Quinn pulls up to the airport, both boys getting out to go find the girl they wanted to see. Jack felt like he was racing Quinn to get to her first, Quinn having no idea what was going on in Jack’s head.

They get inside, both of them looking for her.

“Thanks for introducing us, by the way,” Quinn says, breaking the silence between them.

“What?”

“Me and Carson. When you told me I’d love her, I didn’t realize how right you’d be.”

Jack swallows, the pit in his stomach making him feel like he wanted to throw up. Quinn couldn’t love Carson the way Jack did.

The way Jack did?

Jack spots her first, shaking his head of the thought of loving her when he sees the Canucks sweatshirt with 43 on it hanging on her body. Jack looks at Quinn, Quinn’s favorite sweatshirt on the girl Jack wanted to be with.

Carson spots them, a smile on her face as she runs towards them, her suitcase clumsily trailing behind her. She lets go of her suitcase, it rolling towards Jack as she runs into Quinn’s arms, acting as if Jack wasn’t there to begin with.

___________________________

Morgan says one last thing to Carson, heading back towards the concessions, probably to get them drinks. Knowing Carson, she was out with Morgan on the condition that she didn’t have to pay for drinks. Jack couldn’t help but laugh to himself, Luke giving him a strange look while he stood there, lost in thought.

___________________________

Why would Carson want to be out right now?

She wouldn’t want to.

So why was she out right now at a bar that was way too loud, smelled incredibly bad, and was so crowded she could barely move a muscle without hitting another person?

Morgan.

Well, and Jack.

But, mostly Morgan.

“I hate you for this,” she yelled over whatever music was playing.

“No, you don’t,” Morgan and Jack say at the same time, both of them laughing despite Carson sending both of them a death stare.

“You haven’t been out of your apartment in, like, two months,” Jack says as Morgan walks away to get another drink

“We went to get coffee together four times this week,” Carson rebuttes, her phone in her hand lighting up with a text from Quinn.

She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his name, not paying attention to the clear awkwardness that Jack felt when he saw his own brother’s name on her phone. She loved texting him, talking with him every free minute the two of them had. She was falling for him, and she was falling for him fast.

Quinn loved that she was a lawyer, that she was passionate about helping people, he respected all of her decisions when it came to her uncertainty with her future. He made her laugh, he constantly made sure that she was ok and genuinely showed he cared about her.

He was everything he wanted in a guy, except that he was on the other side of the continent.

“What’s Vancouver like?” she asks Jack, again having to yell over the noise.

Jack shrugs, “It seems a lot like New Jersey, honestly. I’m never there long enough to find out.”

Could she see herself in Vancouver? She had looked into it, she just had to take another exam and be approved by their judicial system and she would be ok to practice law.

Quinn had officially asked her to be his girlfriend when she went to visit the boys a few weeks ago. She wasn’t sure if Jack knew yet.

“I’m going to get another drink, do you want anything?” she asks, elbowing her way back to the bar when he says he’s fine.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she hears from behind her once she orders her drink. She turns around, trying not to audibly groan.

“Anthony.”

“How are you Carse?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Do I need to give more?”

“Well, it’s a genuine question.”

“‘Fine’ is a genuine answer. What do you want, Anthony?”

“When can we get back together?”

Carson scoffs, the bartender handing her her drink that she was now tempted to throw in his face. “We’re not.”

“Come on, Carse,” he says, taking a step toward her, his hand trailing down her arm. “We had so much fun together. Why do we want to throw all that away?”

“I have a boyfriend, Anthony.”

“I don’t see him.”

Before Carson could answer, she feels Jack come up behind her, thankful that it was him and not some other stranger. “Babe, I told you, I was paying for drinks tonight.”

Carson looks up at him, turning toward him so Anthony couldn’t see her mouth a quick ‘thank you,’ to him. “I put it on your tab, don’t worry,” she turns back to Anthony, the smile on her face because of the stupid look on his face. “Anthony, meet my boyfriend, Jack.”

Anthony mumbles something, walking away before either of them could say anything else.

“I owe you,” Carson says once Anthony is far enough away neither of them could see him.

“Well, drinks are on me tonight,” he says, earning a laugh from her. “Nice job, lying about the boyfriend thing. Think we’ll have to keep it up until we leave?”

Carson laughs again. “I wasn’t lying about having a boyfriend.”

“What?” Jack asks, Carson not noticing the panic on his face.

“Quinn asked me to be his girlfriend.”

Before Jack can respond, Morgan runs over, squealing something about how their song was playing and that they just had to go dance. Carson quickly hands her drink to Jack, running off with her friend.

Jack downs the drink, ordering another.

His brother got the girl.

___________________________

He sees Carson waving to someone down on the ice, his heart racing in the worst way because he knew it wasn’t to him. Jack followed her gaze to Quinn, who was waving back at her, a smile on his face while he was on the ice when he was notorious for looking like he was having an existential crisis all the time. He should hate the guy who got to love the girl he wanted to be with. But how could he hate his brother?

___________________________

“You’re what?”

“I’m moving to Vancouver.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming, too.”

“No you aren’t.”

“I can’t live without you.”

“Morgan,” Carson whines, “You’re going to be fine.”

Morgan groans, rolling her eyes. “I’m being dramatic, let me mourn.” The girls laugh, Carson getting up to grab a drink. “So, you and Quinn are actually serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, we have to be if I’m willing to move across the continent and to another country.”

“Are you going to be able to practice law?”

Before Carson can answer, a knock at her doors follows with someone walking in.

“Are you a murderer?” Morgan yells to the stranger from Carson’s kitchen, prompting Carson to roll her eyes.

“Definitely,” Jack says, appearing in the doorway. “I got us dinner,” he says, holding up a bag. “What are we talking about?”

“If Carson can practice law or not.”

Jack laughs, setting down the food. “How did you manage to get disbarred already? You passed like three months ago.”

“I shot a man in Reno,” Carson deadpans. “I didn’t get disbarred. I’m just,” she hesitates, knowing that telling the two people who were her best friends was going to be the hardest. “I’m moving.”

Jack’s attention snaps to Carson, a look of panic on his face. “Where?”

“She’s moving in with Quinn.”

“You’re moving to Vancouver?”

“Yeah. Quinn asked me last week to move out there with him, and I told him yes today.”

Jack didn’t hear anything else while the three of them sat at Carson’s table and ate the food Jack brought. She would be able to practice law in Canada with a few more steps to get there, she would be living with Quinn.

She would be away from Jack.

She would never be with Jack.

___________________________

He could see the engagement ring on her finger from here, the sapphire in the middle catching the light in just the right way. His mother had their grandmother’s engagement ring, something much more simple, that had been intended for whichever boy wanted to give it to their future partner. Jack didn’t want to give it to anyone. He knew that their grandmother’s ring was picked for their grandmother. He wanted to give his person a ring meant for them. He wanted to give a ring he knew would suit her and would make her think of him whenever she looked at it. That’s why he and Quinn had helped the jeweler design it in the first place. It had to be made for her.

___________________________

Quinn had texted in the family group chat that the ring was ready and that he was picking it up from the jeweler that day after practice.

Everyone in the family congratulated him, his mom gushing about how excited she was to have a daughter, and how happy she was that it was Carson. His dad talked about how he was glad Quinn found someone who made him happy. Luke gave a thumbs up and texted in the group chat without their parents something stupid that Jack still hadn’t read yet.

Jack said nothing.

And he wasn’t sure anyone noticed.

Quinn and Carson were going to be engaged soon.

Jack didn’t know who to talk to, his finger hovering over Carson’s contact. He shouldn’t call her. He could call Morgan. But he knew Morgan was busy doing something with her job. He didn’t want to bother her.

He pressed it, turning on the speaker and pushing his phone away from him before he could hang up.

“Hello?” her name comes out of his speaker. He opens his mouth to say something, realizing he had no idea where to begin. “Jack, are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, dropped my phone,” he lied, lunging to grab it. “We haven’t talked in a while.”

Carson laughs, Jack’s insides jumping at the sound he hadn’t heard in a while. “Yeah, it has been a while.”

“How are things?” he asks, silently smacking his forehead at how stupid he sounded. He used to be able to talk to her with ease, having conversations that would go on for hours before either of them even found any silence between them.

Now he could barely talk to her, the sound of her voice something he wanted to hear so badly, something he missed more than he could actually put into words, and he didn’t know what to say so that he could listen to her.

“Things are actually really great,” she says. He could hear the smile on her face coming through the phone. “Quinn and I just work together, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he repeats to himself, trying to hide the pain he felt hearing that. “Have you and Quinn talked about…” he starts, his voice trailing off, the words catching in his throat knowing that Quinn could technically ask her at any moment.

“About what?”

“About you guys getting married?”

Carson stays quiet for a second, a smile on her face forming that broke Jack’s heart with every millimeter it grew. “Yeah, we have.”

“And?”

Carson’s cheeks turned red. “He hasn’t told me outright, but I think he’s proposing soon.”

Jack’s heart fully shattered, a fake smile on his face. “That’s great.”

“He hasn’t talked to you about it at all?”

“We, uh,” he starts, running his hand through his hair as he laid down on his bed. “We haven’t been able to get each other on the phone lately.” The two of them sat in silence, one of the first times neither of them knew what to say to each other. Conversation used to be so easy between them. “Don’t do it.”

“What?” Carson asks, Jack unsure if she didn’t hear him or thought she didn’t.

“Don’t get engaged to him.”

“Jack-”

“Carson, I still love you,” he blurts out, leaving Carson stunned. “Carson, please say something.” He wasn’t planning on telling her during this conversation. He wasn’t planning on telling her at all.

“Still?”

“I think I started falling for you the first minute I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jack swallows, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “By the time I realized it, you were already falling in love with Quinn.”

“Jack.”

“How could I tell you I love you when I was watching you fall in love with my older brother?”

“Jack.”

“How am I supposed to sit here knowing that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone who is perfect for you knowing that I was so close to being that person?” he says outloud.

“What do you want me to say?” she whispers.

“Tell me you won’t do it.”

Carson squeezes her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I can’t.”

“Carson.”

“Jack, I love Quinn. And he loves me. It has to go both ways. I can’t tell him ‘no’ because you feel something for me that I never felt for you.” Jack says nothing, mostly because he doesn’t know what to say. “I have to go. Quinn will be home any minute.”

Carson hangs up, without saying another word, the front door opening as she whipped away her tears.

“Hey,” Quinn says, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “You ready to head out?”

“Uh, just give me a minute. I was talking to Jack and got distracted.”

“Yeah? How is he? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

“He mentioned that,” Carson nods, getting up from her chair. “I’m gonna go grab my shoes.”

Quinn watches her walk away, checking his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed for the night.

Phone, check.

Keys, check.

Wallet, check.

Engagement ring.

Check.

___________________________

Quinn skates over to his brothers, who were still standing next to each other. The crowd starts yelling, as they normally do when the three brothers are on the same ice at the same time. Luke and Jack greet Quinn, Jack trying to pretend like he wasn’t distracted.

“Hey, wait,” Quinn says when the two are about to skate away. Luke hangs back slightly, pretending not to listen. “Carson wants to get together after the game, all four of us.”

Jack looks at Luke. “Uh, we have a flight out tonight.”

“Luke said you guys are leaving until the morning.”

“It got changed,” Jack lies, making a mental note to turn off his location and hope he can convince Luke to do the same. “The weather’s supposed to be too bad to fly out in the morning.”

“Come on. It’s the last time we’ll be able to get together, just the four of us, before the wedding.”

___________________________

“Ready to go?” Luke asks, suitcase in hand as their boarding group gets called.

“No,” Jack mumbles.

Luke rolls his eyes, yanking Jack by the arm to pull him towards the plane. “What’s your problem with Carson?” Jack fastens his seatbelt, pretending not to hear his younger brother. “Dude.”

“I don’t have a problem with Carson.”

“Then why do you shut down and act like a prick any time we go see them, or anytime her name is mentioned?” Jack doesn’t say anything. “No, we have 6 hours on this plane, so either you are going to use that time to tell me why you have a problem with our future sister-in-law or I’m going to tell Quinn that I’m worried you’re going to Richard Ramirez her in her sleep.”

Jack looks at his brother with a look of horror. “What the fuck? I’m not the Night Stalker.”

“Talk,” Luke pokes his brother’s side.

“I liked Carson before she met Quinn.”

“You’re acting like this because you had a crush on her?”

“I’m acting like this because I fell in love with her and she never even thought of me that way.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Every interaction you’ve ever had with her now makes sense.”

“What?”

“Every time you talk to her, you have that look on your face like she was telling you she killed your first born.” Jack looks at him horrified, again. “Yeah, like that.”

“Stop watching CSI.”

“There’s so many seasons.”

Luke keeps talking about something while he doesn’t realize Jack is barely paying attention, interjecting with a generic confirmatory noise every once in a while until Jack finally pretends to go to sleep.

His brother eventually falls asleep instead, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts without his brother’s voice in his ear. He hadn’t seen or talked to Carson since the night she called him before Quinn had proposed. She went from a stranger, to someone he could see in his life forever, back to a stranger.

He couldn’t even talk to a girl anymore without thinking of Carson, how she compared to her, how her humor and deadpan delivery wasn’t the same as Carson’s, how she didn’t look like Carson or walk like Carson. He was in love with his brother’s fiance, on his way to their engagement party.

___________________________

Jack barely processed what happened during the game. He made the plays he had to, passed the puck when he needed to, but his mind was empty.

After the game, Luke comes up to him once they're both dressed. “Ready for this?”

“No.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

They wait for Quinn outside, the adrenaline coursing through him more than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t sure he could face her, even after all this time.

“Hi,” he hears behind him, the voice he once loved now sending panic through him.

“Hi.”

___________________________

“Alright, you’ve got to get it together,” Luke says as they get out of the car that brought them to the venue. Their parents were already inside, Carson and Quinn definitely inside.

“I’ll be fine,” he lies, a gift in shaking hand as he opens the door with the other to let Luke go first. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to go in and face Carson for the first time since their phone call the night they ended up getting engaged. “I’ll be fine.”

The party was set up in a way that made exact sense for Carson, it was classy and elegant, while still having shades of Quinn’s chaos thrown in here and there. He didn’t know exactly why it made sense for them, but it did.

Because they made sense.

“Hi,” he hears behind him, causing him to jump. Carson stands behind him, a short white dress fitting her perfectly in a way that made his heart race. He knew there was a reason to wear a black shirt, and it was to hide the sweat that he felt coming on just being around her. “How are you?”

“Good,” he says, holding out the gift. “This is from us.”

“Us?”

“Um,” he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh. “Me and Luke. You didn’t expect him to pick something out on his own, did you?’

“No, not at all.”

They stand in silence, neither of them knowing what to do. “You look good,” he says, probably one of the first opinions he shared that actually had some semblance of truth to it.

“Thanks, you do, too. How are things?”

“Things are good,” he says, trying not to cringe at how awkward this whole thing felt. He shouldn't have come, but how was he going to say no to the girl he loved and his own brother? “I’m seeing someone, actually,” he hears himself say, surprised by the lie he didn’t know was coming.

“Really?” her eyes light up. “Jack, that’s great. Quinn didn’t tell me that.”

“It’s still new. I haven’t really said anything about it to Quinn yet. I don’t want to jinx it, you know?”

“I get it,” she nods, a smile still lighting up her face. “I’m so happy for you.”

She pulls him in for a hug, Jack keeping one of his hands in his pants pocket. He knew himself too well; if he hugged her too tight, he wouldn’t want to let go.

He hated how corny and stupid he felt. She is his older brother's fiance. He had to forget about her in that way.

“Hey,” Quinn joins them, pulling Jack in for a hug. “Sorry to interrupt, but Car, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Go, go, I need to find my way to a drink anyway,” Jack waves them off.

Carson takes Quinn’s hand, turning to be led off somewhere by Quinn. She turns over her shoulder, smiling at Jack, as he watched the two of them walk off. She turns away, Jack staring up at the ceiling, not wanting to watch her walk away.

___________________________

The four of them get to a restaurant Quinn had taken his brothers to before, despite the fact that Jack couldn’t remember the name for the life of him.

Jack sets his phone on the table, the rest of them doing the same.

As they order, Jack’s phone lights up with a text from Morgan: ‘When do you come home? I miss you.’

#Jack Hughes #Quinn Hughes #Luke Hughes #New Jersey Devils #Devils #Vancouver Canucks #Canucks #Jack Hughes fic #Jack Hughes x OC #Quinn Hughes fic #Quinn Hughes x OC

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enjoythesilentworld · 1 day

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Wille's Month - Birthday

the big day! 28th! happy bday wille! @youngroyals-events

Wille gets a real kid’s birthday.

read below the cut or on ao3. (T, 1.9k)

It isn’t until his 20th birthday that Wille really gets to acknowledge it’s his birthday and not hate the thought of it.

His 18th birthday was a little overshadowed by the chaos of, you know, stepping down from the line of succession and sending the country into a media frenzy. Thank goodness Simon had been by his side, though; to ward off the unwanted attention from the tabloids, the irate criticism from the monarchists, and the ever-enclosing walls of Wille’s anxiety which was so tightly bound to the whole thing. Just like the year before, he’d woken Wille up with a song and a dry sandwich, except that year Wille didn’t have a breakdown, and they fell asleep happily wrapped in each other's arms.

The next year wasn’t bad by any means. In fact, it was really great. He, Simon, Felice and Sara went on a big trip to Amsterdam to celebrate their graduation. Wille didn’t mind that all the attention wasn’t on him. In fact, after the previous two years, he was more than happy to pretend it wasn’t his birthday. That it wasn’t actually meant to be the second official Wilhelmdagen; wasn’t another year his brother had missed. As was becoming tradition, Simon snuck downstairs to the kitchen of the hostel at which they’d been staying to put together a makeshift sandwich, and then whispered him a happy birthday song in the privacy of their tiny bunk. They’d all spent the day exploring the city and getting high in the park, giggling and joking about the terrifying yet glorious affair that was post-graduation.

So, when the first year of university is coming to a close and Simon asks him what he wants to do for his 20th birthday, he shrugs.

“We don’t need to do anything,” he says, looking up from his book where he’d been lounging and reading in a spot of sun. It’s a warm, breezy day in late April, and the sounds of the city that drift in the window of their shared apartment is a nice background noise.

Though it had been a scary decision to make, both he and Simon thought it might be nice to study abroad for a while, to escape the scrutinizing eyes of Sweden after all the drama. And so, after many teary goodbyes, they’d swept off to New York. Wille enjoyed the anonymity and Simon enjoyed the music scene. They wouldn’t stay in the States forever, but it felt real and adult to make this big move and go through so many huge life events together. That being said, after that first year at Hillerska, Wille is sure he and Simon could weather any storm, as long as they had each other.

“Are you sure?” Simon runs a hand through Wille’s hair, cut short ahead of the hot summer. He folds his book and grabs Simon’s hips, guiding him to sit in his lap. “Not even a small party? We could invite some friends over for a game night like normal, just this time we all wear silly party hats.”

Wille smiles at the care Simon was showing, both of them still aware of the awful memories of his 17th, which still sting to think about. He shakes his head and shrugs again.

“Whatever.” He presses an innocent kiss to Simon’s neck, then lingers there, inhaling his scent. “I just want my sandwich and my song. And you in my bed.”

Giggles vibrate through Simon’s throat. “You have me in our bed every day.”

“It��s never enough!” he exclaims, standing them up and throwing a squealing Simon over his shoulder to carry off to bed.

It isn’t until a few days later that Simon returns to the topic, bounding into their bedroom and looking at Wille with wide, excited eyes. It’s the kind of look he has before Wille finds himself dressed in a onesie and cowboy hat, dancing on a small stage at some random club in Brooklyn at 4am. The things Simon is able to convince him to do – and sober, no less – are boundless. He sits up a little straighter in anticipation of whatever nonsense idea Simon has concocted this time.

“I have the best idea,” Simon grins maniacally, bouncing from foot to foot. Wille raises an eyebrow. “For your birthday.”

“Does it have to do with the extra bed time I requested?” he asks, smirking.

“No,” Simon drawls. “Don’t worry about it. Just clear that whole day. I will take care of everything.”

He moves forward again and grabs Wille’s face, squishing his cheeks, then says, very seriously, “It’s going to be perfect.”

“Okay,” Wille agrees, the sound muffled by his smushed face.

It seems his original prediction hadn’t been entirely off base. On the morning of his birthday, Simon wakes him with a song, a sandwich, and a kiss, then disappears. A few minutes later he returns with a big paper bag and empties the contents onto their bed. The sheer number of bright colors hurts Wille’s eyes this early in the morning.

“Is this my present?” he asks hesitantly, eyeing the goods. He spots a bright pink graphic t-shirt, a few party hats, a tiara, and some deflated balloons.

“Yes!” Simon exclaims. “Well, kind of. Today, my love, you are having the birthday you never got because you were too busy being a stuffy prince. No offense.”

“Okay.” Wille tilts his head in confusion, though he can’t help but smile softly at Simon’s excitement. “What does that mean?”

“First, put this on.” He holds up the pink graphic tee, which Wille gapes at, now that he can see the whole front. There’s some kind of mouse mascot dressed in a shirt and hat, and the text reads ‘Birthday Boy! 10! Wille!’ in big, block letters.

“I’m not turning 10,” Wille grumbles, slowly taking the shirt. He thinks Simon might have lost it.

“Look,” Simon grins, taking off his sweatshirt. “I even have a matching one!”

Wille bursts into laughter. Simon has definitely lost it.

The shirt does in fact match Wille’s, with the same oversaturated colors and slightly off-putting mouse character, except the text instead says ‘Daddy of the Birthday Boy!’. Not only that, but the shirt is one size too small, tight across Simon’s chest and the bottom only reaching an inch above his belly button. Despite how ridiculous it is, Wille is not too opposed to the sight of Simon in a crop top.

Once he’s got his laughter under control, Wille pulls on his own shirt. It’s a crop top on him as well. Simon sheepishly tells him that they were cheap and he’d shrunk them a bit in the dryer on accident. Wille could not care less. He finds the whole thing incredibly endearing, and they lose a bit of time when Wille pulls Simon back into the bed with him.

“Okay!” Simon shouts, finally pulling away. “We have things to accomplish today. I have big plans for you, Mr. Birthday Boy.”

“Do you now?” Wille asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

Simon rolls his eyes and presses a finger into Wille’s chest, pushing him away.

“I am going to show you the wonders of the world today, baby. In the form of sticky floors and questionable pizza. The American Dream!”

After donning their full outfits for the day – Simon with a party hat and Wille with his princess tiara – they head out for the day.

Their first stop is laser tag. The people at the front desk give them very odd looks, because they are grown men joining up with a bunch of preteens, but Wille can’t bring himself to care. Simon looks so excited, and he’s just so touched that his dear boyfriend went to all this effort. Plus, he loves laser tag.

They end up on opposite teams. Simon is ruthless, appearing around every corner to take Wille down no matter how far he runs or how well he hides. They shriek and yell at each other, louder than any of the kids, and sprint across the obstacles courses, trying to get the jump on the other. Three games later, Wille is winded and his face hurts from smiling so hard. After eating some, indeed, very questionable pizza, they stop in the bathroom to clean up. Standing next to each other in the mirror, they make googly eyes and silly faces. Turning to face one another, Simon reaches up to straighten his tiara and Wille fixes the string on his party hat.

Heart bursting with love, Wille whispers, “Thank you for this.”

Simon smiles and Wille swears the colors around them grow brighter. “Don’t thank me yet! We’re not done.”

The next stop is a trampoline park, which Wille has never even heard of before. A whole warehouse, a ridiculous size that could only be an American concept, filled with trampolines, foam pits, and screaming children. It’s perfect.

They swap out their shoes for grippy socks and chase each other out onto the floor. They play each other in basketball on a trampoline court, Wille jumping over Simon’s head to dunk the ball, then tackling each other to the ground to fight for it. Next, they get roped into a game of dodgeball with a group of nine-year-olds. Everyone gangs up on Wille and he ends up curled up in a corner, being pelted by an army of children and his boyfriend, who looks way too pleased by the situation. Finally, they have a jumping competition into the foam pit. Simon wins with his double backflip – which, who even knew he could do a backflip, much less two – but Wille is still quite proud of his toe-touch jump. Afterwards, they share a slushie in the parking lot, sitting on a curb and smiling at each other like idiots.

Late that afternoon, feeling sticky and sweaty but so fulfilled, they stumble back home to shower off. Wille thanks Simon thoroughly but is again told they’re not quite finished. They can’t change back into their matching shirts for the last activity of the night, too covered in mysterious liquids from their events of the day, so they opt for more adult-clothing. Wille keeps the tiara, though.

Simon leads them to a bowling alley, which they’ve been to a few times already, but this time Simon has rented out the party room and invited the few friends they’d made here in the city.

The employees at the bowling alley have really gone all out with the decorations. Purple and pink streamers span the entire ceiling, interspersed with dozens of balloons. A big sign on the wall says ‘Happy Birthday Willie!’ and he can’t even find it in him to be angry at the misspelling.

They bowl for hours, talking and laughing and overall causing a major ruckus. His friends have all gotten him stupid gag gifts, which is perfect and so much better than any stuffy tie or fancy cufflinks like he was used to as a prince. Wille keeps catching Simon staring at him with a big, happy grin. He looks radiant, so much better than that awful day a few years ago.

“I’m so glad you’ve had fun today,” he says later, arms wrapped around Wille, looking up at him with tired eyes.

“Today was perfect, Simon.” He presses a kiss to Simon’s forehead. “Thank you so much. Best 10th birthday ever.”

Simon giggles. “You deserve it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. Happy Birthday, Wille.”

#it's silly #wille gets the birthday he deserves #doing silly teenager things #one may even say pre-teen things #these boys have lived a hundred post-canon lives over the past month #add this one to the pile #yr fic #willemonth2024 #wilmon #young royals #simon eriksson #wille eriksson #happy birthday wille #yr crack

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winstonsns · 2 days

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the gang with a soc!reader

authors note: sorry the last one was kind of all over the place. i tend to ramble when i write so ill try to stay more on topic this time. in this preference, you and the characters will already be a couple :3 im also wondering if people are clicking the hashtags then they see my posts?? so if that’s what’s happening and you can see my posts when you click the hashtags please tell me because i have no idea if it’s working LMAO

includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.0k

warnings: mild cussing, mentions of fighting/getting jumped

PONYBOY CURTIS

you both are academic BEASTS so you’re somewhat rivals and trying to get to the top of the class

but you’re still together, it’s a healthy relationship

most of the time, you’ll actually walk him home from wherever you are since it’s safe for you to walk home on your own, but since he’s a greaser it’s not safe for him

when you met the gang they taught you how to fight in case some greasers or even some socs tried to fight you

by walking him home, you’ve actually prevented him from getting beat up

you like to take him out to get food or something he wants when he gets a good grade since he gets happy when they’re high

sometimes you’ll get lower grades than him and you two will study together, or reversed

you’ll get him a new book every time he finishes another one, by the end of the year he has a new shelf just filled with books you’ve given him

you occasionally read him to sleep when he’s having a hard time, or again reversed

he falls asleep pretty quickly when you do this and he really appreciates it

you always sit together during assemblies and choose to be each others partner in the classes you have together

if you don’t decide to do track one year you’ll go to his meets, and after you always take him out to eat since you’re proud

if he’s extra tired then he’ll ask to go home so you will

you learned how to cook so he can have big nice meals, along with baking chocolate cake when soda and darry aren’t there to make it

pony thinks you make it better than darry but will never tell him that

he really loves spending time with you and feels like you’re the first person besides johnny to really understand him

you made him think about socs in a different way too, in a good way

yall are just humans doing what you know best, some in different environments and had different parents with different parenting styles

you like to bring him to the best places in tulsa to watch the sunsets

you also get the best polaroids of the sunsets and the colors are so beautiful

JOHNNY CADE

as soon as he told the gang that he was dating someone they were excited for him, then they found out you were a soc

dally told him to break up with you without even knowing you, johnny told him to give you a chance

when johnny invited you to the curtis house to meet his friends, you brought presents for all of them since you wanted to make a good impression

you had your ways about finding what they like and don’t like

they immediately took a liking to you when you gave them presents and a kiss on johnnys cheek

you’d patch him up and give him bandaids to take home after getting beat up by socs or his parents

sometimes you’d give him money and he would use that money to get you something you’ve been wanting for a while

he’s always so thankful for everything you do for him and everything you give him

since your parents don’t really care about the differences between greasers and socs, they let johnny stay over since they know things are rough at home

sometimes they’ll take you and him out for dinner with them and you think it’s so cute

he was nervous your parents wouldn’t like him since most of the socs parents would think he’s gross

he’s always proud of you for naturally getting good grades and seeing the smile on your face when you get your report card

sometimes when he’s upset you two will cuddle in your bed or you’ll drive him to a restaurant or fast food place

he always feels bad about spending your money but you tell him not to feel bad about it since you have more

DARRY CURTIS

things got more financially stable when you came into his life

you’d help him pay groceries and the bills if he was struggling, you also helped around the house

sometimes he’ll wake up to the smell of bacon, waffles, eggs, etc and suddenly its like he doesn’t have to be the responsible one 24/7

having you in his life has improved everything, and his brothers are so thankful to have you there too

you’re like a mother to them and they’re comfortable enough to open up to you

sometimes you’ll ask him out on cute little dates randomly just so he can get a break of hard work

he’ll take the day off and get all dressed up since you told him you were taking him to a really fancy restaurant

occasionally you’ll get your nails done just for your dates and he always notices

you’ll ask him “which color is better” and he’ll say “aren’t they the same?” then you have to explain to him that one is darker than the other

he still doesn’t see the difference but chooses one anyway since he likes to see you happy

he’s literally so in love with you and how you’ll do romantic and domestic things for him

you’re so beautiful and perfect in his eyes, and sometimes he’ll stare at you and his brothers will tease him

he really loves being around you and having you by his side

you also helped him become calmer, that pony and soda have their own problems and darry yelling at them probably just makes them scared

he starts to actually communicate with them and you’ll give him gifts for completing or succeeding because why not

he’s always like “hon, you didn’t have to get me this…” but you can see he’s happy with whatever you give him

he just loves you so much and his brothers love you too but obviously not romantically

SODAPOP CURTIS

people actually think the both of you are socs, i mean they’re half right

they think soda is a soc since he’s so handsome and think you’re a soc because of your mannerisms and how you’re very beautiful

you’ll always visit him at the DX just to hang out with him

your parents love him and how he treats you so they also let him stay over at your house

sometimes when it’s sodas turn to get groceries from the store, you’ll go along with him

he just wants to be around you whenever he can

you’ll offer to pay for the groceries plus stuff he doesn’t need but instead wants

once he got a pimple and he freaked the fuck out

you bought him some cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen and pimple patches

you taught him how to use them and when, and in which order to use them in

his pimple went away in a few days

since you’re so smart and get good grades, you’ll help pony with his homework sometimes

soda will stare at you helping him from far away, he thinks it’s adorable that you two are bonding

when the two of you are in your room, you’ll play frank sinatra and the little dippers while having a home-date with sweets :3

you two have so much fun and he even opens up to you about his problems

you offer to get him a therapist but he says it’s that bad, you tell him to talk to you if he wants to talk about it again

he legit treats you like a princess and you love it

yall are the most attractive couple EVER no one can tell if they wanna be you or be with you

DALLAS WINSTON

when he realized he liked you he knew he had to protect you with his life

he needed a break from loud and annoying girls, then he found you

you could get quiet at times and you weren’t constantly screaming and acting like an annoying 12 year old boy

you got him to steal less since you could pay for things on your own

he didn’t really listen and still stole money from other people so he could get you things

whenever he got put in prison you could always bail him out due to the money you have

if he had to serve time then you’d give him money so he could spend it and get necessities

you’ll also make diy crafts for him on your guys anniversary and his birthday

he brings you to meetups with the gang, and they love you being there with him

you spoil him rotten and he loves it

makes him feel like a princess, weirdly enough

he’ll steal money to spoil you too, pays for your nails sometimes

you told him you wanted specific flowers once and he got you flowers sometime the next week, he acted nonchalant about it but he loved the happy look on your face

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

sometimes you’re quiet but he always finds a way to bring you to tears after laughing so hard

he’s literally the funniest person you’ve ever met

he never really expected a soc to get so loud since they were normally reserved and didn’t talk to many people

anyway you brought him to fucking disneyland once and he LOVED it

you booked a hotel and everything so yall saw mickey mouse

two-bit kinda laughed at him but he seemed happy so he didn’t care

he loves traveling with you and brags about it to the gang all the time

they say it’s cool then act like they don’t care but they’re kinda jealous he gets all that stuff

they’re happy for him though

sometimes you’ll get him little mickey figurines and he’ll put them on his nightstand, sometimes even carry it with him if it’s a keychain

he never would’ve expected a soc to be so nice to someone like him

he’s really glad that you love him and you show it

STEVE RANDLE

before you two started dating he tried to avoid you at all costs

he kinda thought you’d beat up him and his friends so he just stayed away from you

anyway when you guys started dating you’d drive him to the DX

you’d give him tips just for fun even if you didn’t buy anything from him

you’d buy him all sorts of little trinkets and such just so he’d have something to mess around with

i don’t have a lot of knowledge on him bro pls bear with me LMAO

he’s almost always with soda so you kind of became his best friend naturally

you’ll buy steve food on his breaks and drive him to restaurants or fast food places and you’ll eat on a bench or in a field together

you talk about some shit that happened at work while he listens

he’ll occasionally get you some food since he knows you like sweets

then you repay him with something he’s wanted for a while that he’s been asking for

whether it’s a book or food or a trinket idk

he loves you so much and is glad soda gets along with you so well

sorry this one’s shorter! i’ll try to make the preference longer next time. i’m gonna try to post at least twice per week but if im feeling good ill try to post more 💗 thank you for reading!

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ruinsofcrysis · 2 days

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Fall From Grace - Lucifer x Fallen Angel! Reader - Ch. 4: "We Can Be A Family Again."

The next day everyone at the hotel made their way down to the news station. Alastor and Lucifer both wasted no time threatening Katie. After hearing about everything that happened last time, it really wasn’t that surprising that she’d not want us there. Regardless, she gave in to Lucifer’s commands.

“Are the two of you ready to do this?” I asked, turning my attention towards Emily and Sir Pentious.

“Yes!” Emily beamed. “We got this.”

“Indeed!” He replied, sounding a little nervous.

“Hello, citizens of Hell,” Emily stood at the desk, Katie looking rather unenthused. “My name is Emily. I’m a Seraphim Angel from Heaven.”

Charlie bit down on her lip, eyeing Emily and Sir Pentious nervously. I placed a hand on her shoulder, assuring her that the two of them would be okay.

“I know you all don’t…have a good impression with Angels after everything…” Emily laughed nervously. “But I can assure you we’re not all like that. I, just like a majority of Heaven, had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. I’m disgusted by what the exorcists have done, and I’d like to show you all that it’s possible to make it out of this place and have a better afterlife.”

Emily placed a hand on Sir Pentious’ shoulder, pushing him forward just a bit. The snake Angel raised his hand slowly, nervously waving at the camera.

“Hello…”

“Here before you is the first ever redeemed sinner! Sir Pentious!” Emily beamed, a smile upon her face.

When she said that, the crowd remained rather quiet. They didn’t seem to show all that much interest. I noticed that Emily had froze; she seemed like she wasn’t sure what to do next. I’m sure she expected them to have more of a reaction than that.

“Come on everyone…” I muttered under my breath. “Listen…”

“You really think we can trust you after what’s been going on down here for years?” A demon from the audience yelled.

“This is dumb!” Another yelled.

“You see,” Emily began, forcing a wider smile, “He’s changed form. The proof is right here, see? Ahahaha…”

“Well the loser became a prissy Angel, who cares?” Another demon said, laughing loudly.

“Who’d want to come to a place like that anyway?” Yet another demon chimed in.

A sigh escaped my lips. I know that Emily probably wanted to do this on her own, but the least I could do is support her in this. Even though I hadn’t been down here in Hell for long, I did have more of an idea of what they were actually like than Emily did. This was the first time in her life that she had been to Hell.

“Everyone, as a former Angel myself… I too was disgusted by the actions of those above. That’s how I ended up down here. I understand why you’d all be skeptical.” I said, stepping onto the set and taking a stand next to Emily.

“Y/N…” Emily trailed off, stunned.

“But we all want to work towards making Heaven and Hell a better place for everyone,” I said. “That’s why we’re asking that you give Charlie’s hotel a shot. If it’s not for you, you may leave at any time. We all believe in you, especially Charlie. We want to make sure no demons have to suffer ever again.”

I reached my hand out to Charlie who was just behind the camera. She took it without hesitation, and I pulled her onto the set with us.

“Charlie and her friends showed true courage during the last extermination; they proved that us demons are strong and we can achieve anything; especially Sir Pentious. You can sit there and call him a loser all you want, but at the end of the day he’s achieved something none of you ever have.” A smirk made its way onto my lips. “You’re going to let a so-called loser outdo you?”

“All of you are welcome to check into the Hazbin Hotel at any time,” Charlie said, a bright smile upon her face.

As soon as those words left her lips, a bright beam shot through the ceiling. On instinct, I pushed Charlie out of the way, the light gashing through my side. Charlie fell safely into Vaggie’s arms.

“Y/N!” Lucifer called out, sprinting towards me.

I could hear the vibrations of the building, and took notice of debris beginning to fall; the building was going to come down.

I went to take a step, but stopped in my tracks when I took notice of the pain in my side. I looked down, noticing a yellow liquid dripping down my side. I bit down on my lip, taking a deep breath.

“Y/N, we gotta go,” Angel said, throwing one of my arms over his shoulder. As he did that, Lucifer did the same on the other side.

All of us fled the building rather quickly, not wasting any time for sightseeing. Despite what had just happened at the station, everything outside seemed normal. I began to feel rather dizzy, but I did my very best to hold on; I refused to black out.

Soon enough, we made it back to the hotel. Lucifer and Angel placed me down onto the sofa in the lobby. All of the hotel residents hovered around me, looks of concern on their faces.

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asked me, applying pressure to the wound on my side.

“…I’m fine,” I replied. “I’m just… a little tired.”

“Y/N…you…” Charlie sniffed, on her knees in front of me.

“Thank you,” Vaggie said.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Emily said, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “It’s still so new to me that….that Angels can even be hurt, so I never imagined this would…”

“Don’t worry,” I said softly, showing her a reassuring smile. “Though I’m not exactly an Angel anymore…”

Suddenly, we all heard loud static coming from the television that was across the room. It began to flicker vigorously, until eventually coming to a clean picture. On the screen before us was a woman with bright, blonde hair and an overall striking appearance. She seemed to be sitting in some sort of empty studio. Where was she?

“That little news segment was just preposterous, if you ask me. Demons like us don’t belong up there with all their rules.”

“…Mom?” Charlie muttered under her breath.

“Look what you have down here,” the woman said rather calmly. “Freewill to do whatever you want. Do you want to lose all that?”

“…No way.” Lucifer said. As he said this, I could physically feel him applying even more pressure to my side; it was really hurting, but I remained silent.

“I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard from me, but just know I’ve been watching for a long time,” she said. “Charlie proved that we can fight back against Heaven, didn’t she? What’s the point in going up there when we’re no longer helpless down here, hm?”

I looked over towards Charlie, who was eyeing the television intently, a small smile upon her face. Then, I turned my attention towards Lucifer. My eyes met his, then he immediately looked away and removed his hands from my wound. I continued to bleed, so I moved my hands to apply the pressure myself. My face fell, a pit forming in my stomach. I swallowed roughly, turning my attention back towards the television.

“Think about it a bit. The hotel idea is silly, you’d all be better off buying yourself some weapons in case the Angels strike again. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision, my subjects. I’ll be seeing you all soon.”

And with that, the screen went black. I looked towards Charlie and the others. While the others mostly just seemed confused or surprised, Charlie seemed rather excited.

“Dad, she’s here,” Charlie began, stuttering from excitement. “I-it’s been so long I…can’t believe it!”

“Charlie…” He trailed off, his eyes still on the ground.

“Dad, she’s finally come home,” she replied, taking a stand. “I-I don’t know where she is, but this means she’s close. We can be a family again!”

When she said those words, I felt my jaw drop. Lucifer had said that he and his wife had grown apart, so Charlie’s reaction seemed rather unreasonable; surely she knew this? Or perhaps she was more naive and hopeful than I originally thought?

“Charlie stop it, that’s enough!” he spat, causing Charlie’s smile to vanish in an instant. “We’re not discussing this.”

“…Dad.”

Lucifer quickly began walking towards the stairs. Everyone watched as he walked away, not uttering another word until he had vanished entirely.

“I know it’s been a long time since you’ve seen your mom,” Vaggie spoke up, grabbing onto Charlie’s arm. “But didn’t you hear what she just said?”

“Yeah, w-well,” Charlie stammered, “I was able to change dad’s mind, right?”

“But your dad didn’t outright blast you like that, did he?” Angel spoke up, throwing his hands into the air. “It sounded like she was mocking you or something.”

“I-I’m sure she didn’t mean to do that,” Charlie said. “Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“Your dad seemed really upset,” I said softly, looking towards Charlie and the others as I hesitantly sat up, wincing a bit.

“Well, he and mom weren’t on the best terms before she left, ”Charlie admitted. “But it can be fixed. Right, Y/N?”

“…Mmhm,” I muttered under my breath, unsure of how to respond. My eyes then met the floor.

Something about her words made me feel uneasy. I knew that Charlie wanted to fix her relationship with her mom and her dad, which was fine, but I didn’t see her fixing her mom and dad’s relationship. Perhaps I was being selfish in thinking so?

I found myself thinking that Lucifer and I’s relationship would be different with his wife around. Until now, I hadn’t really realized how close the two of us had become over the course of just a few weeks. Was I ready to give that up?

“WAIT!” Charlie exclaimed. “I’m so so sorry, you still need medical help and here I am worried about my mom…”

“Hold on, I got this,” Cherri said, making her way towards me. “Come with me and I’ll get you patched up, alright? Then you can get some rest.”

“Thank you,” I replied softly, allowing Cherri to help me walk.

Cherri took me to the bathroom, helping me get my wound cleaned up and bandaged. For a party girl, she was surprisingly gentle and good and seemed good at treating wounds. Though I had grown to be friends with Cherri over the past few weeks, we mostly just played games and did a bit of partying.

“How do you know how to do all this?”

“I get myself fucked up all the time, what do you expect?” Cherri said, laughing. “At least now it can actually come in handy.”

After Cherri helped me get fixed up, I made my way to my room to rest. I sat in my bed for a little while, blankly staring at the ceiling. After all that had transpired, I wasn’t really sure how to feel. The only word I could think of was…empty.

“Y/N,” A familiar voice called behind my door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re injured and I have to leave tomorrow,” Emily said, entering the room. “I don’t really know what else to do after what happened today.”

I sat up in the bed, my eyes finally meeting hers. Emily gave me a small smile, but the frown upon my face remained intact.

“It’s…fine,” I replied, my voice low and blunt. “They have undeniable proof. If they choose to ignore it, that's their problem.”

“What’s wrong?”

She walked closer to the bed, her eyes never leaving mine. I simply stared back, my expression not faltering.

“I got slashed, Emily,” I replied bluntly.

“No, there’s more to it than that,” she said in a matter of fact tone.

“Charlie wants to fix her family,” I replied with a sigh, pausing for a moment. “But I don’t know if I can help her with this. I guess you can say that’s the new thing bothering me… along with everything else that happened today.”

“Charlie told me about how her mom went missing seven years ago,” Emily said. “She also told me about how they had separated before then.”

“Lucifer told me about it briefly.”

“How would you feel if they got back together?” Emily asked rather suddenly, causing my eyes to widen.

This was a subject I had only really thought about just before heading off with Cherri. It was something I refrained from thinking about because it made me feel uneasy, bad, and cold… maybe the best word to describe it was scared?

“Scared…of losing him,” I replied softly, my eyes widening a bit at my own words.

“Y/N?” Emily said, sounding a bit surprised.

“The way he turned away from me when he saw her made my stomach hurt….” I trailed off. “I’ve never felt that way before, so I…Oh god..”

It was at that moment that I realized what Emily had said before was true. Surely, I felt something more for him than I had originally thought? I had plenty of friends at the hotel, but I didn’t click with them in the same way that I did with him. They didn’t make me smile in the same way that he did either.

“It’s okay to feel that way, Y/N.”

“It doesn’t feel like it is,” I said. “What would Charlie think?” I looked down, clutching the blankets tightly. “I don’t want to ruin her family…”

“She’s been gone for seven years… that alone says a lot about her mother in my opinion.” Emily said. “I think she already considers you a part of her family.”

“I…”

“Y/N?” I heard a voice sound behind my door, followed by a knock. “Can I talk to you?”

“Hello,” Emily said, opening the door to reveal Lucifer. “I was just about to leave anyway. She’s all yours.”

My eyes wandered to the other side of the room, trying to look at Lucifer. His hat was bent down slightly, covering his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No, no,” she laughed. “Good luck, Y/N.”

After Emily left the room, Lucifer remained rather quiet. He avoided eye contact with me, which made it feel even more awkward. He quietly made his way over to the bed, sitting on the end of it facing away from me.

“What is it, Lucifer?” I quietly spoke, feeling unsure of my words.

I had just come to terms with the fact that I felt something more for this man, then merely moments later he was sitting on the other end of my bed, avoiding eye contact. My chest felt rather tight, and I could feel my heart racing as I awaited his reply.

“Thank you for saving my daughter,” he finally said, his voice rather low. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to say that to you earlier. I was a bit…not myself I think.”

“It’s okay,” I said, feeling unsure of what else to say in the situation.

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N,” he said bluntly, his voice louder than before, catching me off guard. “This wasn’t some coincidence. That Heavenly light was meant to hit Charlie, and it happened right before that broadcast…” He stopped for a moment, his voice becoming softer as he continued. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I just can’t think of any other explanation.”

“She… wouldn’t, would she?” I asked in disbelief, my eyes staring at the back of his form, trying to imagine the expression upon his face.

“I want to say she wouldn’t…” he said. “But truthfully I don’t know. She was gone for so long and then acted like it was nothing…”

I threw my legs over the side of the bed, slowly scooting closer to him. As I did so, I could feel my heart racing. I reached out my hand, moving towards his shoulder, but I froze as soon as I heard his words.

“Please, don’t,” he said, his voice almost harsh. Though, it was evident that he was feeling rather overwhelmed, so I tried not to take it to heart. Despite that, I could still feel a heaviness in my chest.

“Lucifer…” I spoke softly, retracting my hand. “What can I do to help you?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he said after a moment. “But can you continue to help me protect my daughter?”

“Of course,” I replied.

He finally shifted on the bed, turning to face me. His facial expression was rather bleak, and I could tell that his eyes were a bit swollen. He probably didn’t want me to know that he had been crying. After everything that had happened, I would have been more concerned if he hadn’t cried.

“Thank you, Y/N…”

I could see the tears threatening to fall from his face again, and I wanted so badly to make him feel better. However, I really just didn’t know what I could do at that moment. As much as I wanted to comfort him and tell him it was okay, I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything else.

Without saying a word, I threw my arms around his neck and held on tightly. He felt rather stiff and resistant at first, but eventually wrapped his arms around me as well. I could hear him softly sobbing, which made my heart sink. However, I knew that that’s probably what he needed. He needed to let all that emotion out, and I was willing to be his shoulder to cry on.

#lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #fall from grace #hazbin hotel fanfic

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figsandphiltatos · 3 days

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but slowly the instinct takes root in her throat

read it on ao3 here!

Story: but slowly the instinct takes root in her throat

Chapter: 1/1

Characters: Kipperlilly Copperkettle, Ruben Hopclap, Porter Cliffbreaker, Jace Stardiamond, (mentions of other Rat Grinders)

Summary:

Kipperlilly has been chosen by a nascent god of rage. She's proud of that fact, excited by what it might mean for her future. In the meantime, she's stuck on night watch during her sophomore spring break with Ruben Hopclap, her least favorite party member. She's been told to worship her rage, to accept it in all its savage glory. What could go wrong? -- A one-shot about my head canons for how the Rat Grinders' first quest to the Mountains of Chaos went down.

“It’s cold out here.”

The knife in Kipperlilly’s hand stuttered over a knot in the stick she was carving into a stake. Her motions were harsh and confident, but not well practiced. Woodcarving wasn’t a hobby of hers, but she would have done just about anything to dull the boredom in this moment—and to distract her from the incessant whining of her companion.

That she was being asked to keep watch at all was an insult. The thought sat under her skin like molten metal, but she pushed it away. Not only had she been chosen, she’d risen to the challenge. She could feel the symbol under the stiff, pressed fabric of her shirt, and the memory of the ritual was still fresh in her mind. Jace’s magic, the glittering red shatter star, the oath she had sworn to the god of rage.

Jace had continually checked his notes as he administered the oath, and Porter had seethed at the indignity. “Maybe I’d remember this better if I’d had the chance to undergo it myself.” The sorcery teacher was cool and unbothered around most of his students, but Kipperlilly had come to know him as a perpetually exasperated presence in her life. “But, no, it wasn’t this easy for me.” He said as he traced a slender finger down the page of his notebook.

“An eye for opportunity is well rewarded.” Kipperlilly had chirped unhelpfully. She smiled smugly in the direction of the barbarian teacher who, in an official capacity, was not meant to be attached to this quest at all. Even the rest of her party didn’t know he was here with them in the Mountains of Chaos. But he had revealed himself to her for this ritual, because she was his chosen, because he trusted her—

“It’s cold and boring. And doesn’t it freak you out that things are so dangerous here that we need a nightwatch?” The drone of Ruben Hopclap’s incessant complaints pulled Kipperlilly back to the present moment.

The stick in her hand snapped under the pressure of her knife. It was no real loss. She didn’t need a stake, just a distraction. She needed Ruben to shut up.

“It’s the Mountains of Chaos.” She responded curtly. “Of course it’s dangerous.”

“I heard Yolen Harris’ party is going to Harroway Bay to fight a sea serpent or something.” As he spoke, Kipperlilly grabbed a new stick to resume her carving. Something about the steady motion helped to ground her, and she needed that more now than ever. “I bet the serpent won’t be fun, but think about it: Toes in the sand and crystal service! Now that’s a decent spring break.”

Kipperlilly watched as the wood parted from itself in thin, curling layers and grit her teeth. “It’s also a monumental waste of time. People kill sea serpents all the time. No one’s gonna remember that quest in a month.”

She shouldn’t humor him with responses. Of all the people in her party, Ruben was the most indolent. Not that he lacked ambition; He envied Figueroth Faeth in all her stardom. He just didn’t have the actual follow through to do anything about it. It made Kipperlilly sick, and it was the lesser of the two things she hated most about him.

Kipperlilly was proud to say that Lucy Frostblade was her best friend. But, since they had met Ruben in middle school, she’d suffered the slight of having to share the claim to being Lucy’s.

“Who cares!” Ruben whined. He was always whining. She found herself wishing the high-pitched frequency of his voice would drive a nearby pack of wolves into a slavering bloodlust and they would come here to rend him limb from limb. As she turned the stick in her hand, and notched her knife into it once again, she imagined the violent scene in great detail. It brought her some solace. “I’m cold! I’d rather be at the beach! Who’s gonna remember us for coming to this empty, useless temple and looking for a dumb name, anyway? Even if we find it.”

He didn’t know the plan. He didn’t know they would change the world someday. That they’d create their own god, raise him from his mortality. That they would carve Elmville from its stubborn mundanity and reform it in the image of something worthy. They would be greater than the Bad Kids, or any adventurer who had ever graduated from Aguefort. Many alumni of the school had saved the world, but none of them had ever remade it.

“You’re probably cold because you dressed for the beach. Like an idiot.” She snapped, pointing with her knife toward his sandaled feet.

“Dress for the job you want!”

Kipperlilly felt hot, buzzing rage rising in her throat. It was a familiar feeling, like boiling water overcoming all her senses.

Her grandmother had once tried to endear her to her family legacy. She’d taken her to the kitchen, and showed her the Copperkettle, the magical item from which her family got their name. Most halfling families got their names this way, from heirlooms that often harkened back to a time before they came to Elmville. The Copperkettle was barely magical.

Newly immigrated to Elmville, the family had struggled to make ends meet, and the Copperkettle had kept them fed anyway, against all odds. This was the only version of the story worth telling, but her grandmother had embellished it with all kinds of details—the names of her ancestors, what kinds of stew the kettle had produced, the tale of their eventual agreement to share the stew. The story dragged on until there was nothing but a frustrating buzz in the back of Kipperlilly’s young head where the anger rose to meet it. She didn’t want to be standing in her kitchen, listening to a lecture about the history of the most boring family in Elmville—She didn’t want to be reminded that she was a part of that family.

She tried to sit still and quiet, to listen politely like her parents had taught her, but the anger ballooned inside her until it was too big for her tiny body to contain. She had felt near tears with it by the time she admitted it to herself, and acted on it. In her anger, she had scurried forward and kicked her grandmother’s knee—anything to get her to shut up.

She remembered being dragged away by her parents. They had sat her on the cold cement porch stairs outside their family home, wagged disapproving fingers in her face. And she’d known then that they were right—or thought that they were. Anger was something to ignore, to push down and suffocate.

Gods forbid it have the ability to suffocate back.

That night, with Ruben seemingly incapable of shutting his mouth, the same anger was starting to expand hot and fast in her chest. Her anger was always vicious and strong, oftentimes stronger than her, but there was something new this time too.

With the feeling, the symbol on her chest burned steadily. For a moment it was a grounding feeling. She could honor this anger, just like Porter had taught her. She could feel it and savor it—The way her face burned and the way her focus on the world sharpened until there was nothing but Ruben’s voice, and the knife, and the wood.

“And this job sucks. Even if it was memorable, we’ll always be remembered as the dumb kids who needed a chaperone on our sophomore project.” Ruben filled the silence when Kipperlilly didn’t respond.

Her stick snapped again, but this time in the tightening grip of her hand rather than under the pressure of her knife.

“And the solution to that is to resign ourselves to a lazy beach week?” She let the words claw their way from her throat, and seep through clenched teeth.

Her hand held tight to the pommel of her knife. Without the grounding repetition of sliding it along the wood, she started to think of other things she could do with it. She thought of nothing but wolves, and blood, and the heat of rage that clung to her every breath.

Ruben’s sniveling answer fell on deaf ears. She wanted nothing more than silence. She wanted peace. She wanted to not have to endure his weakness and whining.

The first plunge of the knife came without thought. It was a mindless thing that drove her to stand, approach and attack. It all happened in the flash of prickling anger that overtook her senses and mind. But the scream that came with it pulled her back to reality, made her angrier.

Kipperlilly was often angry. She had felt the urge to destroy—to tear the world apart, ruin her friends’ moods, to see things burn because of the fire in her stomach and on her tongue. But she had always felt remorse, too. That destruction, the harsh words, the cruel actions had always stopped her before—she always ended up just the same as that kid on the porch stairs, crying as her parents wagged their fingers in her face.

But not this time. This time, she relished in the anger. She did just as she was told. She let it consume her. It was like falling away from herself and being more present than ever all at once. She viscerally felt the skin and muscle part under her knife, felt as the blade scraped and stuck into ribs. She heard every scream, felt Ruben’s hand clawing at the sleeve of her pristine, white blouse. She saw the terror in his eyes fade into glassy, distant nothingness.

But the whole time she was wrapped in the resplendent ecstasy of wrath. It kept her distant and safe. It kept the fire in her belly roaring and hungry for more. It smoothed over the edges. It distracted her from the way her hand slipped on the blood slicked grip of her knife and the way the blade cut into the flesh of her own palm. It held her anxieties about being heard and her guilt at a distance.

She sat back from the unmoving corpse underneath her, and stared at the shredded chest of a boy she’d known since middle school. With shaking hands, she set her knife down beside them, in the fast collecting pool of blood. There was a fist-sized bloodstain on her blouse where Ruben had clung to her, but he’d long since lost the strength for that. Her sweater vest was ruined. Warm, tacky blood adhered her tights to her knees. Everything smelled so strongly like blood that she could taste iron on her tongue.

And then there were Ruben’s dark eyes, staring, staring, staring, and seeing nothing.

Kipperlilly lurched to the side and retched, but nothing came up. The weight of what she’d done settled on her like the sky falling. Tears blurred her vision, and she was grateful because she didn’t want to see. Whether they were tears of contrition or self pity, she couldn’t say.

Somewhere nearby her party was asleep, if they hadn’t already been awoken by the screams. Sometime soon, they would see what she’d done—or otherwise notice Ruben’s absence. And Lucy. What would Lucy think? How would she ever look at her again?

Sitting there over the dead body, for maybe the first time in her life, Kipperlilly couldn’t think of a plan. She could think only one thing: Porter.

She’d done what he’d said. She’d given into her rage. He had to help her fix this. He was the only one who would understand—even if he couldn’t have possibly foreseen that it would come to this.

She tried to stand and her polished bar shoes slipped in the blood, sending her tumbling downwards and face to blank, pallid face with the corpse. It was washed in the sickly green light of distant beacon fires, which only made the quickly paling skin look worse. She couldn’t leave it here. This time, she knew the thought was one of self-preservation.

Pulling herself to her feet, Kipperlilly carefully sheathed her bloody knife. Then, she gathered the body in her arms, and pulled it up the stone stairs into the temple. She slinked through the shadows, past the alcove where the rest of her party slept. It was some distance away and, by then, her arms ached under the weight but she hoped that the distance meant there had been no disturbance here. The rock face that made up the temple echoed with every sound, but things were quiet. There was no sound of confusion, or people rushing to arms.

She kept moving, past towering statues of proud warriors and their flaming horses, past the walls scrawled with words of prayer, until she reached the chamber where she knew Porter was staying. His presence was still unknown to the rest of the party and, at least as recently as the ritual, he wanted to keep it that way. This place, deep within the temple, was cavernous and massive. It was the place she had undergone her ritual earlier in the day but now, returning to it, she felt so far from the victorious spirit she’d clung to then.

She stopped once inside, letting the corpse slump to the ground far from the giant altar at the other end of the chamber in front of which a bedroll was laid out. Porter wasn’t sleeping, though, he was standing on one of the staggered platforms, facing the iron brazier that dominated the center of the altar.

Words failed Kipperlilly. She stood over the body and stared across the wide space between herself and the barbarian teacher—the soon-to-be god—who she’d worked so hard to impress, and couldn’t bring herself to speak. He had put so much faith in her, and surely this would be a grave disappointment. But in her panic, she didn't know where else to go.

“Kipperlilly?” He turned before she had to say anything at all, those dark eyes widening in shock. It must have been quite the sight. She was usually so well put together, but now she was disheveled and blood splattered. Not to mention the corpse at her feet. “What in the world have you done?”

“I—I didn’t mean to.” Now that she had found them again, words came tumbling out of her without her control. “He made me so mad. You said to lean into the anger! I pledged myself to it! It was supposed to be—You said it’d be holy, that it would be sacred, but I—” She got stuck on this word, stuttering it out too many times before the sentence died altogether in her throat. She couldn’t say it.

She’d killed him.

Porter jumped from the platform in one fluid motion and strode toward her. His features were pinched with a deep concern, but he didn’t seem panicked. Some small part of Kipperlilly wished that he did—maybe so she wouldn’t be alone with the suffocating feeling, or maybe because she thought it’d make her feel less small.

“Why didn’t you bring him to Lucy? She has diamonds, doesn’t she?” He demanded first, coming to stand in front of her and the corpse. She had to angle her face up to see him, always, but now she looked elsewhere. Anywhere but at him or the bloody mess at her feet. Her eyes fixed on the pictographs of war lining the temple walls.

The thought of bringing the mangled body to Lucy made her throat close up. She thought of her gentle friend. She tried to imagine the way hate would contort her features but, for all the awful things she had done, all the ways she had failed Lucy in the past, she had no frame of reference. She knew that even now she was avoiding the full reality of what she’d done. Facing Lucy would mean facing this, and she couldn’t do either.

“I can’t…”

Slowly, Porter nodded, “You’re right. She’d never forgive you.” He admitted callously. “None of them would ever look at you the same way again.”

There was a pause. Wind whistled through the colossal, empty stone halls. “You were right to bring this to me.”

She was right. No one else would understand. She sniffled, trying to pull herself together. “There has to be something—” Something that didn’t involve a cleric. “Professor Stardiamond could summon something.” Just like their training in the woods. All the appearance of danger with none of its teeth.

“How would a monster have gotten here?” Porter asked, shaking his head. “No, that’s sloppy. You can do better.” He pressed. Then, “You wanted Ruben dead, didn’t you?”

“No,” Kipperlilly said with so much conviction that she surprised even herself. She angled her face up to see the disbelieving expression looming over her. She allowed herself a glimmer of self-reflection, just a moment of honesty, to decipher her own meaning. “I wanted to kill him,” she admitted, “But I didn’t want him dead.”

“Those are the same thing.”

They weren’t. Kipperlilly struggled against the fog of panic and misery in her head, trying to piece the words together. She had wanted the violence. She had relished sticking a knife between his ribs, but the consequences of those actions weren’t welcome. She hadn’t thought about them before they were real. But Porter was right; How could she have been so stupid?

“I might be able to help.” Porter turned his eyes toward the still body between them. “But this wasn’t the plan. You were the one who agreed to the ritual. You were supposed to be my chosen.” He ground out the words in frustration.

“What?”

Some selfish dark thing seized in Kipperlilly’s gut. She remembered how she had felt special during the ritual. She had known that she would be relied upon. She would be great, with her name raised above the rest, when it came time for Porter to ascend. Despite the dead boy at her feet, she didn’t want to let that go.

“The others will know something has happened, but they’ve already made their choice. That’ll need to be fixed.”

“Fixed?”

“Go get Stardiamond.” Porter said, tone dismissive. “Bring him here and we’ll catch him up on the plan.”

“What do you mean fixed?” Kipperlilly had not asked for much. She obeyed dutifully. She paid her dues. She would follow Porter through the nine hells if it meant she got her shot at greatness; If she could be a legendary adventurer; If she could be better than the fucking Bad Kids. But, this once, she demanded an answer.

“Even if we bring Ruben back, they’ll see you as a monster. We’ve got to get them on our side.” As if from nowhere, he produced a shatter star. It bathed the chamber in a low, pulsing red light, shifting as he examined it. It tore itself apart into fractal pieces and slammed back into itself.

“How? They already made their choice.”

Some more than others. Oisin, under the right circumstances, might have been convinced. He had a legacy to live up to; He understood ambition. Porter had talked about not giving up, about continuing to evangelize about rage, and the unnamed goddess. The others were never to know about Porter’s plan to ascend. But, they could be won over with stories about a plan to resurrect a dead goddess, with the promises of the glory that that would bring. But, these weren’t the right circumstances.

“We would have had time to change their minds.” Porter’s words were harsh, but grounding. It was Kipperlilly’s loss of control that had brought them here. Even if she couldn’t own up to the rest of it, she had to own up to that. “But there are other ways. Watch.” He instructed, and stepped forward to kneel over the corpse.

The shatter star leapt forward from his hand, burrowing into the mutilated flesh in front of them. The forward motion was violent and eager, and the corpse thrashed disturbingly like a rag doll limp in the mouth of a vicious dog. Kipperlilly watched with wide eyes as blood splattered upward onto her already ruined clothes.

The motion stopped and, for a fleeting moment and eerie peace settled on the room. Kipperlilly looked up, half panicked, to see the way Porter’s steady, focused eyes were fixed on the body between them. Before she could demand to know what was happening, a rasping breath shattered the silence and Ruben came flying upwards, sitting ramrod straight.

An animalistic growl issued from somewhere deep in his chest. Kipperlilly stared—in horror or in awe she didn’t know—as Ruben’s wits returned to him and he turned on her with a murderous glare.

“You fucking killed me!” He roared, launching toward her with a ferocious speed. She stumbled backwards in surprise, still not having fully processed that he was alive, and fumbled for her knife.

Ruben’s hands were outstretched, his face contorted into a mask of animus and hostility. He was inches away from tackling her when he suddenly froze. He shook his head, and was left blinking in dazed confusion.

“We’ll have none of that.” Porter spoke, standing from where he’d been kneeling at eye level. “If you need to fight it out, let’s do it when there isn’t already a monumental mess to clean up.” He grumbled.

Ruben looked down at his bloody clothes, then back between Porter and Kipperlilly. “You killed me so I’d have to worship your stupid rage god?” His anger seemed more directionless, now, and that must have been just as well to Porter, who shrugged.

“You’d have to ask Kipperlilly why she killed you. My god and I just brought you back.” Porter brushed a speck of blood off his hands and onto his pants like it was a meer inconvenience, and added, “You’re welcome.”

“You’ll have to kill the rest of them?” Kipperlilly was slowly piecing it together.

Panic kicked at the inside of her ribcage. A tidal wave of thoughts came crashing down on her. This was her fault. Everyone could have had more time. She could have convinced them all eventually, the right way. But she had fucked it up. She had forced Porter’s hand. Ruben had chosen to worship rage rather than die. Everyone else would have to as well. But Lucy would never.

Lucy would never.

“Lucy’s stocked for revivify.” She blurted out, the words leaving her before she’d had time to process. “If she’s here while you’re killing the others—She can’t be here while you’re killing the others.”

She could feel Ruben’s glare boring a hole in the side of her head, but she kept her eyes fixed on Porter. She would follow him through the nine hells. She would convince her friends to worship rage. She would kill them all, or let them die, if she must. But not Lucy.

Lucy wouldn’t come back. Kipperlilly needed more time. She would have had it, if not for her own miserable wrath.

Porter seemed to consider her words. “Get Stardiamond, tell him to bring the others to me. You keep Lucy busy. Tell her you don’t know where Ruben is, make her heal that cut on your hand. I don’t care, just handle it. You’ve made enough of a mess.”

Relief rushed over her, and Kipperlilly nodded, ever the dutiful soldier. “Right, of course.” Her eyes flickered briefly over to where Ruben’s burned into her like hot coals before she turned to carry out her marching orders.

As she backtracked through the empty, echoing halls of the temple, she recalled slights against her and held them close to her chest like kindling for a fire. The way Oisin and Ivy would whisper behind their hands and snicker at her; Mary Ann’s brutal dismissal when she tried to bond with her; the betrayal of everyone when they changed their party name. The Rat Grinders could die. It was a price she was more than willing to pay for her own chance at greatness. It was easier to take ownership of it all. To foster the anger inside and pretend that this was how she wanted things to go, rather than admit to losing control. The symbol of an unnamed god burned quietly against her chest.

#kipperlilly copperkettle #the rat grinders #i don't trust y'all enough to put this in the general tag i won't even lie #fhjy spoilers #figs writes #i haven't published writing in... checks watch... over a year?? lol #anyway!!! here have a treat. porter's such a fucking manipulative ass #when i GET my hands on that man...#it's sooo over for him #kipperlilly is like #fucked up too yeah sure but i love my girl free my girl #just girly things (we've all wanted to kill our sapphic crush's best friend)#ruben hopclap #sorry to the ruben stans i love him but. he's taking lucy's attention away from klck #and really. that's a capital offense what can i say

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