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#x-men dark phoenix packs
marvelousmrm · 1 month
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Uncanny X-Men #135 (Claremont & Byrne, July 1980). The pleasure and the quality of this story is that it took time to build. The two attempts Fox made to adapt the Dark Phoenix saga were both so rushed, the full tragedy could never be depicted. It’s not that Jean consumes a sun, although that is monstrous and horrifying — it’s that Lilandra, Prof X’s regal alien lover, is going to seek justice. The stakes are still cosmic but the relationships are heartbreakingly mundane, and without the character drama this would be as ephemeral as Doctor Strange or Captain Marvel. These issues still pack a wallop.
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sungbeam · 7 months
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧
prince!ji changmin x f!reader (slight juyeon x reader)
1.0k words, my emotional support royalty au, high-key historical au, lots of not-dialogue, literally i don't think swan song will ever fully see the light of day but i love it a little too much to keep her buried
a/n: this is serpent & dove's partner,, except i set the stage for a villain arc bc who doesn't love a villain arc
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The moment Ji Changmin stopped wishing to be a part of the family was the one wherein you made your debut into society. There were rules to the royal court, rules that Changmin had long since been schooled in. There were boxes he was placed within, boundaries he was not meant to cross, but there were few invisible, unspoken hierarchies that were always enforced that he had to pick out on his own.
He was only eighteen when he found your familiar eyes, shining in glazed-over discomfort, as you curtsied low at the top of the stairs and made your descent. An official had announced your arrival at the door, and he already spied the dance card dangling from your wrist.
Unspoken Rule One: Bastard children never got first pick.
The main ballroom of the palace was decorated immaculately for this year's debutante ball. Heavy silks embroidered in fine, gold thread were draped from the crystalline window panes; the chandeliers glistened with beads of light like fiery embers; the dance floor was polished and his suit was tight. He couldn't remember tying his tie on so tightly, but the way you looked tonight made him want to break form and loosen the grip of his collar around his neck.
He had never seen you in such tightly laced garb, and he had never seen you so nervous. You, Yn Ln, beloved middle child of the phoenix-represented Ln family—the phoenix a symbol of how generations of your family long ago had risen from the ashes of destitution to the mighty lordship of its current day and age. Your good name automatically thrust you into the limelight, whether you liked it or not.
You were eighteen years old, same as Changmin. You had asked your handmaiden to lace your corset up a little tighter, opting for the one that was made specifically for occasions such as these. It had not been your choice to don the dark, blood red brocade for tonight's festivities—it had been your mother's. You hadn't realized your family even cared to show off their middle child, but you supposed if they could ship you off as quickly as possible, it would be one less daughter to pay attention to.
Unspoken Rule Two: Daughters never got to choose.
It was difficult to not meet his eyes—the pair that you recognized so easily from the academy. The pair you often found yourself staring into as they laughed, as they pondered, as they brooded. He was beautiful, the kind of strong that wasn't brutish, but softer. He was a snake amongst wolves, perhaps the predator that no one ever saw coming.
Your dance card was empty, but his name seared itself into each slot, stealing away each dance like he had stolen a bit of you after all this time. (Or maybe all of you. You wouldn't have minded if that were the case.)
It wouldn't have been appropriate if he left his place from the dais first. It definitely would not have been appropriate if he had left the dais before every other girl was introduced. The room was full of chaperones and young men eyeing their prospects as they filed in, one by one.
(A room of hungry wolves encasing the pack of sheep who had waltzed in, bedazzled and smiling.)
You knew the game though, and you figured two negatives would have to make a positive. Right? That was how it could work. That was the loophole you and Changmin had concocted all those late nights spent in the academy library, tucked away in the corner of the myths and legends aisle, huddled together, conspiring a way to come out of this alive.
Not just alive, but together.
Unspoken Rule Three: Watch out for the wolves.
You were already on your way toward his side of the dais. The half prince was beautiful, but he was only second in line. He had half the blood of royalty; how many would seek him out first?
And there was a spike of hope in your heart. It singed through your glazed expression and made the corners of your cherry-stained lips turn upward in that sickening feeling of hope.
Eyes pinned to the other, you could see the glee in his own expression. It was going to work. This would work how you'd planned, how you'd hoped, how you'd schemed and mapped. You two knew the food chain better than anyone else—it simply had to.
But the room fell quiet as a form stepped before you, blocking your view of the second prince. He was just as beautiful as his half brother, the gold crown seated upon his raven locks a beacon of pride and power. He had kind eyes, a pair you weren't as familiar with, but knew well enough. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, his smile gracious and almost shy.
"Lady Yn," Crown Prince Juyeon said to you as you dropped into a curtsey and he, a bow, "may I have the honor of stealing your first dance?"
The room was silent. You swore your heart beat thundered against the golden walls of the ballroom.
You couldn't say no. Not to the crown prince. Not in front of everyone.
Perhaps there were things you and Changmin hadn't taken into account.
Unspoken Rule Four: The Crown Prince always gets what he wants.
By some miracle, you found your voice and fitted your quivering, gloved hand into his. "Of course, Your Royal Highness. It would be my honor."
And as Prince Juyeon led you to the polished marble dance floor, you stole a glance behind you at the dais. The second prince stood frozen on his platform, his form never having broken. But in the split second you looked back at him, you couldn't mistake the flash of a promise in those dark eyes you'd fallen so deeply into all these years.
It was a promise… at least, that was what you had thought, as you plastered a smile on your face and let Juyeon lead you through dance after dance. But you should have known better than to think so little of Ji Changmin.
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a/n: me taking back my blog bc i can post what i want right :')
tbz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs
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No Matter What
Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: Rooster supports you after your father dies.
Warnings: mentions of death, grief
Special thanks to @callsign-phoenix for proof reading this for me.
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It was loud in the Hard Deck. Music playing from the duke box in the corner and the normal laughter and chatter had gotten louder as the evening progressed. The noisiest corner was once again reserved for the Dagger Squad, who were currently arguing over the pool table as you approached armed with enough beers for everyone on a tray.
“Guys come on pack it in ok. We all know that Bob won Hangman, give him a break poor love.” You said, absentmindedly stroking Bob's hair as you did so. The poor aviator had turned bright red under your touch. Although you were all around the same age you felt a motherly instinct towards Bob and you were often seen telling Hangman off for his antics.
“Leave him alone ,Hangman.” Rooster chimed in, coming up beside you and wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. You moved your hand from Bob’s hair to place it on Rooster’s chest.
“How’s my beautiful girl.” He asked, leaning down and placing his lips softly on your forehead.
“I’m good.” You smiled at him as he looked down at you, his eyes shining in complete adoration for you. A stern cough behind you bought you back to reality.
“Lieutenant Kazansky. Could you come with me?” Cyclone looked at you, his face unreadable and Warlock stood next to him.
“Sir?” You asked, you had never seen Cyclone at the Hard Deck before.
“I need to talk to you outside Lieutenant.”
By this point, all of the Dagger Squad had noticed the interaction and watched curiously as you followed the two men outside.
“What’s that about?” Phoenix asked, coming up next to Rooster.
“I have no idea.” He said, watching worriedly as you followed the two officers out of the door.
“Lieutenant Kazansky your mother has been trying to contact you.”
“She has?” You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and realised you had 16 missed calls from your mum. It must have been so loud in the bar you didn’t hear your phone ringing.
“Why? What happened? Is she ok? Is my dad…?” The look on Cyclone’s face said it all.
“I’m afraid to inform you that your father passed peacefully this evening. We came here to find Maverick to inform him but we promised your mother we would inform you. She’d like you to go home. I’m very sorry for your loss Lieutenant. Your father was a great man who I deeply admired.”
“Lieutenant if there’s anything we can do…” Warlock began.
“I need Rooster. I just need Bradley.” You whispered, your breathing becoming laboured. You felt yourself slide down to your knees hot tears running down your face. “ I just need Bradley.” You kept repeating. One of the officers must have gone in and gotten him because before you knew it a strong pair of arms were wrapped around your shaking frame.
“I just need Bradley.” You cried.
“I’m here baby girl. I’m here. I got you.” He pulled you into his lap, caressing the back of your head, rocking you as you cried.
“He’s gone.” You sobbed.
“I know sweetheart. I know. I’m so sorry darling.” You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your face into his chest, letting your tears flow freely. It felt like an eternity before your tears subsided and only soft whimpers remained. You pulled away from Bradley, looking up into his eyes.
“I… I need to go home. I need to be with mum.”
“Ok, darling. Let’s get you home. Come on.” He lifted you bridal style and made his way over to the Broncho. He placed you in the front seat and you sat perfectly still, completely in shock. Your dad was gone. You were never going to see him again. The pain in your chest swelled as the agony spread through you. You didn’t even notice Bradley getting in the car or start driving until you were outside your family home.
“We’re here darling.” He said, bringing you out of your thoughts. You looked up and towards the house. It was dark, except for a single light in the kitchen. Your mother's shadow moved around the room slowly. You turned to look at Bradley, seeking comfort.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No. No, I need to do this alone. Thank you though… for everything.”
“Of course love. I’m here whatever you need, whatever time day or night. Always ok. I promise.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too baby. I know how hard this is and I can give you all the time and space you need. I’m there for you no matter what.”
“Thank you. Goodnight Brad.”
“Night darling.”
You made your way slowly up the familiar steps to the door. You knew this day was coming but it didn’t make it any easier. Nothing the Navy taught you could prepare you for this and for now you’d have to face it. But you knew you weren’t alone. Bradley was going to be there through thick and thin. He was the love of your life and you knew he’d be there no matter what.
Rooster watched as (y/n) made her way up the steps. He knew first-hand how much pain she was in, he was still battling his daily. He looked at the dog tags hanging from the rearview mirror.
“Talk to me Dad.”
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xoxo-author · 2 years
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Squish
I’m back with a new dumpster fire! While Rooster owns my heart, I can’t help but think that I would let Hangman ruin my day and possibly me. 
Pairing: Hangman x Reader (F)
Warning: My writing, probs a lot of misspelling, out of character Hangman, mentions of drinking. 
Please don’t copy my writing :)
I hope everyone is safe this weekend!
I couldn't blame them for staring, I really couldn't. I truly looked like a hot mess and not the kind of hot mess that is portrayed in movies.
My hair which was supposed to be a messy bun now resembles something similar to a bird's nest.  My shirt, which in reality wasn't even mine, was about three sizes too big which resulted in it looking like I had no pants on. My feet were clad in miss matching socks, one had cactus while the other had Christmas weiner dogs, which wasn't unusual for me but usually, I have tennis shoes on but my feet were shoved into some Nike slides that were about 100 sizes too big for me.
The Hard Deck was absolutely jam-packed and full of people. There wasn't an empty inch in this bar it was so packed, so crammed with people. Everywhere you looked you either saw pilot suits or college guys repping their frat house.
Pushing up onto my toes, I try to find the reason that I was forced to crawl out of bed at almost 1 in the morning. I couldn't see shit due to the number of people so with a heavy sigh I drop down to my feet and being to make my way through the sea of people.
After seemingly going from one side to the other, I finally manage to push my way to the back of the bar.
My eyes immediately landed on a slumped-over Jake who was struggling to keep his head up. I look around and notice that Jake wasn't the only one who seemed to be struggling. There were multiple people who were taking over any available space. One with a Hawaiian shirt was laying down on a piano bench. A blonde-haired man was knocked out on the pool table. A dark-haired man with a killer mustache was standing up against a railing with his head resting on his hand while that hand rested on the tip of a pool stick.
"Hey Squish"
A smile makes its way onto my face as I walk over to Jake, letting him pull me into the space between his legs. Jake wraps his arms around me tightly and rests his forehead against my stomach. I bring my hands to his back, letting my nails scratch up and down the expanse of his back, "Hi, Jakey."
"So you're Squish?"
I turn my head, my gaze landing on a girl with dark hair, and let out a little laugh, "That would be me."
"I'm Phoenix, I'm the one who gave you a call."
I move my hands to his head, gently scratching my fingers against his scalp, "What happened?"
Phoenix lets out a laugh, "We were playing pool and everything was fine until this group of guys came over and boosted about how their frat was the college pool champs and blah blah blah. Well one thing led to another and it turned into a battle of egos, the loser bought drinks. Game after game, the college lost and kept buying stronger and stronger drinks hoping they'd get these guys drunk enough so they could win."
"Did they?"
She shakes her head, "Those guys never stood a chance, even as drunk as these guys are they still whooped those college guys' asses."
I laugh, "Men and their egos."
"So how come he's never brought you around?"
I glance down at Jake, focusing on the feel of his hair through my fingers. We were best friends, and have been for the past couple of years. We've always been closer than normal best friends, acting more like a couple than friends. We haven't crossed that line of being more than friends but I have definitely thought about it and I'm 99 percent sure that he has as well.
"We're a bit complicated."
Before she could say anything else, Jake lets out a groan, his hands moving to squeeze my hips, his forehead coming off my stomach so he could look at me, "Squish, I'm not doing so hot."
I nod, glancing over to Phoenix, "I think that's our cue. Phoenix thank you again for calling me and watching him for me."
She nods, "I hope you come out with us next time."
I smile at her before turning all my attention Jake. I move my hands so they were gripping his arms as he starts to stand. One of his hands holds his head, eyes squeezing shut, while his other arm wraps around my shoulders. I place a hand on his chest to make sure he's up right before securing my arm around his waist.
We slowly begin to make our way to the door. I could tell he was trying to keep most of his weight on his side but he was still heavy as I tried to help him through the crowd.
By some miracle, we made it outside. "Jake where's your car?"
Jake mumbles something inaudible before using the hand that was holding his head to point somewhere to the right. I squint as I looked through the cars before landing on his truck. We slowly start to make our way towards the truck, trying our best to avoid holes that would send us both flying to the ground.
I prop Jake up against the truck before reaching into his pockets to find his keys.
"Baby, if you wanted to feel me up all you had to do was ask."
I spare a quick glance up at him, taking notice of the drunken smirk that was plastered on his face. I pull the keys out and press the unlock button before opening the door for him. I nod my head towards the cabin, "Hop in."
Once  I made sure he was secure, I close the door and quickly make my way to the driver's side. I jam the key into the ignition before reaching down to grab the button that moves the seat up. The seat is slow to move which causes Jake to laugh, "You've got such short legs baby." I wave him off as I start to pull out of the parking lot.
                                                                        ***
I toss his keys into the bowl by the front door before making sure the door was locked before we made our way to the stairs. I watch from the other side of Jake as he tightly wrapped his hand around the banister, an image of him wrapping his hand around my throat flashing through my mind. I quickly shake the thought away before making sure I had a hold of him as we began our ascent up the stairs.
We slowly made our way to the top of the stairs and into my bedroom, heading towards the bathroom where I help him sit on the toilet. Once I made sure he wasn't going to fall off, I turn to my right and reach across the counter to grab his toothbrush. I push toothpaste onto it before turning back to face him, "Open."
Jake's teeth were probably in the top five of his favorite things about himself. He told me that if it wasn't his hair, muscles, or good looks that pulled the ladies in then it was his teeth. Jake literally made me promise that if he was ever too drunk or incapable of brushing his teeth then I had to do it for him. He couldn't afford to miss brushing his teeth.
It was no lie that Jake was adorable when he was drunk. He always had a little smile on his face, he was touchier than usual, and his eyes were usually half-lidded. His hair would always be a mess because he was constantly running his fingers through it. Him being drunk was a rare sight, he usually could drink anyone under the table.
I rinse off his toothbrush before telling him to stand so he could rinse his mouth out.
I begin to push his shirt up, standing on my tip toes to get up his arms before having him pull it the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor. I glance at his pants before looking up at him, "Think you can manage those all by yourself?"
He smirks, about to let out a comment before noticing my look. He brings his fingers to the tops of his pants while I head out to grab him some water and Advil from downstairs.
When I returned he was already on his side of the bed, eyes closed and mouth parted,  he had pulled my side of the covers back for me.
I place the water and pills on the bedside table before reaching under the light and turning the nob, letting the darkness consume the room.
I gently climb over him and once I was settled into my spot, I bring my hand up and let my nails scratch his bare back before letting my eyes close.
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inkwolvesandcoffee · 11 months
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Sweet Grains (Alfie Solomons x Reader, Modern AU)
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Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Modern AU, Bakery AU
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Reader
Word count: 3.7K
Warnings: Talk of eating disorders and low self-esteem (based on personal experience, so don’t be a twat), Alfie being a proper gentleman
Summary: Kindness can go a long way. A loaf of bread, a cup of coffee, a conversation to break up the pressure that comes with ambition. Alfie Solomons, the most feared man in Camden and perhaps the whole of London, is full of these little bits of sweetness.
Not that he would admit this outright, of course. However, the men at the bakery certainly notice a change in his demeanour whenever you pop by.
But when you do so to drop off a gift, there soon rises a bitterness that excels that of the dark roast served at The Old Rum House Bakery. Yet, as with the darkest of coffees, Alfie works his magic to reduce the awful taste.
Because he wants the best for you, who is starting to be more than a friend to him. Who else will he grant the privilege of eating his soda bread?
He wants you.
And a new bookie.
Tag List: @zablife @vir-tual @babaohhhriley @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @dreamlandcreations @solomons-finest-rum @mollybegger-blog @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @rose-like-the-phoenix @wandawiccan60
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Gratitude is easy and simultaneously terrifying to show.
Take a deep breath. It’s gonna be alright.
The tin in my hands feels like it’s filled with stones rather than cookies. Also, the design of it, navy blue with gold and flowers, suddenly doesn’t seem that great of an idea either. It would be a shame to throw it away, but the thought of asking for it back once it’s empty makes me uneasy. After all, it’s a gift.
While gathering my courage, I watch people stroll by the bakery in front of me. It is mostly locals who stop to check out the fully stocked window display. Tourists tend to get their food elsewhere in the market. However, even in Croydon they can vouch for the quality and taste of The Old Rum House Bakery in Camden. 
Recently I’ve been popping by here to study for the AAT Bookkeeping exam. Partially because I want to expand and develop my personal skill set, but primarily because I’m well over being a barista and working for minimum wage. The owner, Alfie Solomons, has been kind enough to help me. Although, perhaps it’s better to say he insisted on it in his own way.
The tall burly man kept walking past me and looking over my shoulder during the first few days. Now, I can’t blame him because who wouldn’t get curious when someone sets up an improvised office in their business? On the first day, I was ready to pack up and leave in the blink of an eye. The hairs on the back of my neck remained upright, my hands jittery with the anticipation of being told by a gravelly voice to leave so there would be space for more customers.
But those words were never said.
Alfie let me sit for as long as I wanted.
The one time I had the nerve to meet his gaze, he plopped down in the chair across from me and told me he’d teach me the books. Just like that. I blinked, gobsmacked by his blunt and rather hellbent statement. Since then, he’s been my mentor.
And I don’t want to disappoint him.
One… two… three. Let’s go!
“Y/N, what’re you doing here?” The voice in my ear pierces through the hubbub of the busy street, packed with people enjoying the rare London sunshine by roaming around. Snapped out of my reverie yet still drowsy with dread, I turn to the man with black curly hair who has appeared at my side.
“Ollie, hey, hi! Is- Um, is Alfie… in? Today, I mean? Now?” It’s silly, reduced to a blabbering mess because of a person I know decently well. For as far as one can know another when in a mentor-student relation. Although, sometimes it seems we’re more than that.
Our conversations know no limits, freely flowing over tea and coffee. I can never leave without a loaf of soda bread he refuses to sell despite it being a piece of heaven. It has this certain sweet element, which he refuses to reveal what it is. However, there is one thing I value above all else.
He always makes time for me. No matter whether it’s rush hour or quiet, early in the morning when the bread is still being baked or late in the afternoon when there’s barely anything left and inventory has to be taken, Alfie stops being a business owner and becomes my mentor. Or, rather, my friend. Although, perhaps that’s a step too far. 
We’re close acquaintances.
Very close acquaintances.
The assistant brand manager of the bakery chuckles. “Yeah, he is.”
“Great! Can you give him this?” I hold the tin out to him.
“Why don’t you give it yourself? I’m just returning from my break so he can go on one. I’ll fetch him for you.”
“Oh, no, I’m kinda busy and-’’
“Don’t be shy. Come on in.” Ollie holds the door open and gestures for me to go inside.
Mentally cursing myself, I take a deep breath and step forwards.
The warm scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee hangs in the air, vibrant like the murmur of hushed conversation and the clinking of tableware. Here and there some tables are occupied with the customers who remain from the rush hour caused by lunch. However, most of them are almost done. In the back, a couple gets up to leave. Unsurprisingly, their smiles are content.
Because the food here would be fit for a king. 
As soon as I cross the threshold, the broad-shouldered man with slicked back brown curly hair behind the counter turns around. He grows still when his sea blue eyes fall on me, the loaf of bread in his hands entirely forgotten.
My heart skips a beat, skittish under the intensity of his gaze. I grip the tin in my hands a little tighter, but the metal does nothing to cool the flush of heat that washes over me. A queasy feeling starts to set up in my stomach when the awareness I’m showing more skin than usual hits. Nevertheless, I put on a mask and muster a smile. “Hey.”
Alfie clears his throat. He blinks a few times like he’s been rudely woken and needs to ground himself in reality again. An unusual awkward groan falls from his lips as he places the bread he’s holding on a nearby counter, wipes his hands on his apron, and then nods in greeting. “Shalom, love.”
What was that reaction?
The sound of my heels on the stone tiles is incredibly loud in my ears as I come closer. Even an elephant would walk more gracefully and quietly in them than I do. Unfortunately, in my enthusiasm I didn’t calculate in the time it would take for me to learn how to wear them properly and move like a sophisticated woman rather than a lumbering individual.
“I popped by to give you these.” I hold the gift I prepared out to him. “As a thank you for teaching me how to bookkeep.”
“You made these?” he asks as he gratefully accepts the tin. His expression brightens as he inspects the oatmeal cookies inside.
“They’re orange and apricot with a bit of salt. Also, they’re kosher. Spent the entire day in the kitchen trying to get them right.’’ I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and glance at the floor. ‘‘I’m not much of a baker, unlike you.”
“Want me to start teachin’ you that too?”
“What?’’ Mouth dry, I stare at him before I break out in a panic mess of words. ‘‘Oh, no! No, I couldn’t possibly ask that of you. I mean, you have a business to run and-’’
“I wouldn’t mind. Besides, I free up time for you anyway so you can learn the books proper.” He puts the lid back on the tin and carefully places it next to the loaf of bread he held earlier. Then he crosses his arms and leans on the counter. The shadows the artificial light cast on his skin accentuates how sculpted they are, hardened by working long hours. “Time spent in good company ain’t wasted.”
“Look, it’s really nice of you, but I don’t want to take up any more of your time. You should have a moment for yourself as well.”
Completely ignoring my remark, he continues in the same casual tone. “Kitchen is awfully busy durin’ work hours, so it’d have to be after closin’ or really early in the mornin’. Also, I’m not gonna put you among the men. No, if I’m to teach you, it’ll be only us. Way safer and more comfortable, innit? Now, I don’t think you’d like me knockin’ on your door at four when not even the pigeons-’’
“Why?” I ask, nibbling on my lower lip.
“Why what?”
“Why would you pick me up?”
Am I really worth the effort?
“Because London isn’t a safe place for doves. The shadows want to tarnish their pretty feathers, corrupt and break their kind spirits. I don’t want that to happen.” For a moment we look at each other, silently assessing where his comment puts us. His expression still unreadable, careful to conceal the sentiments he harbours towards me, Alfie continues. “If you stay after hours, I could see you safely off to the tube before dusk. If you trust and would let me, of course.”
Surprised by the offer, I open and close my mouth. Nevertheless, no answer or adequate response comes to mind. The absence of a hint he’s joking or simply being politely nonchalant also makes it hard to respond. 
“No means no, don’t it?” A quicksilver smile flashes over his lips, half-hidden beneath his bushy whiskers. “Think it over. You can accept or reject the offer whenever. Until then, it stands.”
Why me? Why not someone else? Plenty of women would kill to be made the same offer by you. I’m not worth the trouble.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, though the light tremble in it remains. “It does.”
Another silent moment passes, a few seconds in which his gaze doesn’t waver. I glance around the bakery, praying for Ollie to come through or new customers to come in. Any diversion would be appreciated.
Anything to distract him lest he should see the butterfly storm inside.
“C- Can you stop staring at me?”
“I’m sorry. Ain’t proper, innit?” Alfie stands up straight and puts his hands in his pockets. Watching the street through the window stocked full with today’s bread, he rubs his lips together in contemplation. A thought he voices on a deep breath. “You look lovely, my dear.”
It’s just a pet name. Casual, the way he talks. It’s not affection towards me. It’s not. 
“Oh, t- thank you.” I pluck at the hem of my dress. “I finally had the courage to wear this one. Still feels a bit weird.”
“Well, I think you look wonderful. Much too pretty for Camden, though. But more than right for Bloomsbury or Westminster.” Though there’s genuine warmth in the gruff half-grumbled words and tenderness in his eyes, there’s an underlying bleakness.
And it tells me he knows.
“I- I’m gonna- I-’’ I point at the door over my shoulder. “I should go.”
“Fancy a cup of tea?” Alfie lunges forward and places his palms on the counter like he’s ready to launch himself over it. “‘Ow about we ‘ave one of those cookies too?”
“I don’t-’’
“Just one.” A careful though encouraging smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Evidently he’s not planning to let me leave, determined to use his charm to make me stay yet too proud to openly beg. “It’s good to treat yourself. One cookie won’t do any ‘arm, especially not with tea. Do an old man a favour?”
And like every time he prepares a sandwich for me and refuses to let me cross the threshold back onto the street without a loaf of soda bread, I want to try. Not only for myself.
But also for him.
“Sure.”
He claps, the noise loud enough to involuntarily turn my content resignation to temporary shock. Fortunately, the way my body jolts remains unnoticed. “Marvellous. Any preferences?”
“Not really.”
“Hm, maybe a nice pot of yuja, yeah? The sweetness will be in perfect ‘armony with the orange in the biscuits. Besides, it’s almost summer, so it’s time for citrus fruits, innit?”
“We’re barely halfway through spring. It’s not even May yet.”
“The weather’s warmin’ up, though.”
“I still don’t think that makes it summer any time soon,” I chuckle.
“I suppose it doesn’t.” Alfie lets out a breathless laugh, features softened with the kindness he usually displays around me. Nevertheless, there’s also an odd tender warmth in it that is hard to define. It’s the same curious emotion I sometimes glimpse on his face when I drop by to study or when he’s using his own bookkeeping to serve as a real-life example. When I make a mistake and he corrects it, explaining what I did wrong and how to do it right next time.
It’s there in the corner of my eye, vague in peripheral vision. However, now that I see it blatantly before me, I still can’t name it.
“You wait ‘ere, yeah. Give me a moment to prepare everythin’ and we’ll pick a nice and quiet spot.”
While the tea brews, Alfie sets up a tray. With a gentle carefulness that belies his usual rough demeanour, he places the biscuit tin alongside two dainty plates on it. In the meanwhile, I remain by the counter to soak up the sunlight, ever rare here in London, coming in through the windows. Normally I’d feel awkward simply standing around in a place where I could easily be noticed. Yet, it’s never like that when he’s nearby.
Strange, how he is both my peace and my flame. 
Humming along to one of Adele’s songs, Alfie pours the yellow liquid in a chic porcelain teapot. ‘‘There,’’ he mumbles, a proud note in his gravelly voice. ‘‘Done. Come on.’’
He guides us to a small table in a corner in the back, far removed from the other customers and staff. All the while, he stays close yet maintains a polite distance.
Alfie sits down on the chair across from me after setting the table and pouring us both a cup. Neither of us says anything, both content to only sip tea and occasionally meet the other’s gaze. 
Whereas his employees seem to have the urge to talk as soon as their boss falls silent, it’s never been the case for me nor vice versa. It’s the same type of silence as when he reminds me to take a break. The most effective way to actually get me to take one, he found, is to literally swipe my study materials to the side or pull me away from his laptop if he’s giving real-life examples. Afterwards, he’ll pull me to my feet to this very same spot so we can sit down together for a cup of tea or coffee. 
A moment of reprieve, wherein there are no burdens. No pressure to do well, no fear to mess up, no worries about changes.
There’s only us, the world shut out.
Unfortunately, the comfortable silence doesn’t last long. The corners of his mouth turn downwards and his brows knit together as words enter his mind. The way he puts his cup down on the saucer with a clink that’s a little too loud preludes to conversation.
One I’d rather not have. 
However, there’s only so long I can and perhaps want to avoid it.
And when it comes to him, I’m done running.
I want to talk.
Alfie groans, the metallic sound of his rings tapping against the side of the cup strengthening his sense of discomfort. “I know it ain’t right to ask because it’s impolite and not something a gentleman should ask, yeah. You are permitted, by the way, to storm out the door after throwin’ your tea in my face. It’d be a waste but I wouldn’t blame ya. I’d never come back either if someone asked me this.”
Head bowed, I stir my tea. “Alfie?”
“Yes, love?”
“The question.”
“Yeah… right, guess I’m beatin’ ‘round the bush too much, ain’t I?” He presses his lips together for a moment and runs a hand through his beard, lost in contemplation. The long breath he takes comes out as a deep sigh. “Look, I meant it when I said I think you look wonderful. And I’m very bloody grateful you come ‘ere for lunch or afternoon tea. It’s a fuckin’ honour to see you enjoy the food and drink ‘ere.”
“But?”
“But you’ve lost weight again, ‘aven’t ya?” he asks, his usual warm drawl devoid of emotion.
I shake my head and smile wistfully. Looks like I’m found out. “I don’t even actively try to anymore. It just… happens.”
“Do you eat? When you’re not ‘ere, I mean.”
“Three meals a day. A protein bar for brekkie or a bowl of vegan yogurt with some granola. I come here for lunch or eat a slice of your soda bread with a piece of fruit when I’m busy. Dinner kinda depends on what I’m in the mood for, but it’s generally vegetarian and has lots of veggies.”
“And working out?”
“Almost every day. I can’t sit still. It drives me up the bloody wall. I try to take rest days, but I’m not particularly good at that.”
“‘Ow much?”
I take a sip from my tea. “Too light.”
No workout today, no need. Tea won’t make you fat. Sure, it’s sweet, but not from sugar. It’s okay.
He lets out deep sigh through his nose, mumbles something under his breath, and stares out into the bakery. In the meanwhile, I don’t dare to look up at him.
Terrified of his disappointment in me.
“Look, I’m not goin’ to be the solution to the problem, it’s a journey you yourself will ‘ave to go on. All the same, I wanna ‘elp.” Slowly I raise my head, unsure about his intentions. Alfie sits back with his arms crossed. The only movement he makes is squeezing his bicep with strained forearms. “You’re a strong wonderful woman, clever to boot. I’d ‘ate it if I lost your company due to bad health. Or worse.”
“My health is fine. I guess I’m just too skinny.”
“Which means you’re more prone to sickness. And cold.” His gaze falls on the goosebumps littering my skin. “Can I ask the number on the scale?”
“Forty-six, sometimes forty-five.’’ 
‘‘Please tell me you eat a little more on those days.’’
‘‘I do, try to, but it hardly helps. Still came further down from forty-eight.”
He swallows hard, a slight taper in his breath as he speaks. “I won’t tell you what to do. What you can and can’t eat. You are your own woman and therefore free to tell me to fuck off and mind my own bloody business. Which I should, I’m well aware, love, yet I can’t. We ‘aven’t known each other that long, but I’m quite fond of you. Yeah, you ‘eard me. Fond, extremely. So I worry for you and since I’m also a chronic overthinker, I worry a lot.”
Sure you do.
Because if the King of Camden is known for something, it’s his silver tongue. 
“We can start small. You already said you eat my bread at ‘ome and I see you eat when you’re ‘ere. That’s good. Let’s start from there. We’ll go explore new foods together and I’ll occasionally cook for you. I’m no master chef, right, but I don’t think my borscht is bad. It’s me mum’s recipe, so I don’t dare fuck it up. I always make way too much brisket as well and it would be a cryin’ shame to throw it away or keep it as leftovers when it can be shared. You see, people have been bonding over food for centuries.” He leans in, his fingers entwined as they rest on the table. Voice lowered to a pleasant purr, he makes an irresistible proposal which I am loath to decline. Nonetheless, I don’t want to readily accept it with an enthusiasm and positivity I haven’t felt in a very long time. The butterflies have to remain contained because to show them would be to rip their wings. “Shall we try and see if that’s true?”
“I’d like that, Alfie.” The mention of his name conjures a beaming smile which shows off his slightly crooked teeth. One of his little perfect imperfections. “I’d like it a lot.”
“Well, let’s start with this.” He grabs a cookie from the tin, splits it in half, and holds one of the pieces out to me. “Small steps.”
I merely gaze at the cookie, my mind and body entangled in a war of control. One side wants to reach out to accept the piece of food, the other advocates to wait for Alfie to retract his hand. In the end, I clench my jaw and fight my very nature to take it.
He leans back, the beginning of an affectionate smile lingering like a ghost on his lips. After a moment of watching me nibble on the cookie and take a sip of tea, he speaks up. “Still trying to get into Shelby’s company?”
I shake my head. “I don’t feel confident enough for that. I’m not really too good with the books, am I? Maybe in the far future. When I’m better.”
“I don’t think you’re doing too shabby. In fact, I think you’re doing pretty well. Simply need to practice, is all.”
It’s basically immediately reaching for the top, the stars far out of reach and only for the gods to touch. As if a prestigious company like Shelby Company Limited would accept a rookie bookkeeper, a nobody without experience. That is, if I manage to pass the exam.
Alfie puts his half of the cookie in his mouth. An appreciative hum rises from his throat as he munches on it. A wave of calm gratification washes away the guilt of eating, replaces it with a flush of warmth throughout my body. I take a deep breath, once again able to breathe a little easier around him.
He wipes his mouth on a napkin, which he then uses to wipe some of the crumbs from his beard. “How about you become my bookie?”
“Pardon?” I squint at him like it might help me understand him better. Either that, or prove I misheard him.
“Would take some of the burden off me shoulders. Let me focus on other things to keep this place open for business.’’ The silliness of his grin amplifies the glow in his cheeks. However, there’s anxious anticipation in the way he twists his rings. “‘Sides, you’re the only one I trust with my finances.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll fuck up?”
“You’re a clever little bird so I don’t think you will. You will pass that exam, after all. I’m certain of it. But, if it makes you comfortable, we can figure it out together in the first few weeks. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, innit?”
Not because of second opinions, controlling perfectionism, nor business.
But because we sometimes need help.
And that’s okay.
55 notes · View notes
techni-coloured · 2 years
Text
One San Diego Evening 0.1 - Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw
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Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader
Summary: Bradley Bradshaw always has a plan. It may not be well executed, but he always has a plan. 
But with you, he was willing to take a risk. Even if he nearly passed out on your lap after one too many drinks.
TLDR: Rooster meets romcom. That’s it that’s the tweet. 
Part 1 of RomCom!Rooster
Previous Part || Next Part
TW: mentions of alcohol, cursing
*Parts updated biweekly!*
————————
“Come on, Bradshaw!” Payback shouted. 
The Dagger Squad decided to expand their excursion radius. The Hard Deck was a timeless classic, a hot spot for naval men and women to get together and drink to their hearts’ content. It was an added bonus when someone willingly (or unwillingly, bless Penny Benjamin’s heart for that beloved bell) bought a round.
It was Bob’s suggestion that they try something new. Since the successful mission of the uranium plant, it was a rarity for all of them to get together. They would try to meet up but often end up missing one or two people. In this instance, it was Penny and Maverick. The older couple was currently landing on the island of Hawai’i. 
Penny was told that it was to visit a couple of old pals of her father. Unbeknownst to her, Maverick had a stunning 2-carat gold band tucked into his trusty leather jacket. The Squad was checking repeatedly for any updates to the proposal, whether it would be a surprise or not, but truthfully told, the captain has one of the worst poker faces. The fact it was a secret for this long was an impressive feat. 
So here the group was, scootering along the streets of San Diego aimlessly on electric scooter rentals. Bob was leading the pack, Hangman and Phoenix, with a competitive edge, attempting to catch up, and the remainder of the squad trailing behind. Rooster lagged the most, cursing at the wheels of the device.
“Why on earth did we decide to do this?” Rooster huffed, gripping the handles for dear life. For a man regularly pulling upwards of 7-8 G’s on a somewhat basis, Lime scooters were his worst enemy.
“Someone’s upset he’s falling behind,” Phoenix quipped, pulling up to Bob. For someone wearing chunky heels, she navigated the streets with ease, her glossy brown hair whipping with the wind.
“Or the fact he can’t look as fantastic as me doing it,” Hangman snickered. In true Seresin fashion, the blonde could never turn down an opportunity to show off his Southern roots. A tan Stetson hat perched on his head, and dark brown leather boots peaked out of his blue jeans. 
Rooster rolled his eyes at his friends’ sass. He enjoyed spending time with them, plus, the rest of the world could see him and his ridiculous patterned Hawaiian shirts. Even at 8 P.M., he brought his aviator sunglasses, tucked into the collar of his white tank top.
“Two blocks and it’ll be on your left,” Coyote said, glancing at the directions on his phone with one hand, the other hand steering the scooter. Him and Fanboy were responsible for picking the bars, since they were planning on having everyone bar hop. The night was young, and none of them were getting any younger.
Plus, none of them had work the next day. A full 24-hour recovery for whatever hangover needed to be nursed. Bob made sure to stock the Airbnb’s rental fridge with Pedialyte and Gatorade, ever so prepared. 
A block and a half later, the scooters were parked on a curb a couple of yards from their first destination. Well, most of them. Rooster was muttering angrily because the scooter wouldn’t stay put when he tried to leave it with the rest of them.
“This darn piece of crap!” He mumbled under his breath. Just as he managed to get the transportation device situated, he whipped around to catch up with his pals.
Too quickly one might add, as he collided into you, startled from the sudden movement.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t look where I was going!” You exclaimed, looking up to meet the stranger’s eyes. You were first met with a bushy mustache, a little higher up, chocolate-colored irises. 
His gaze softened, focusing on who he crashed into. The green silk top you wore complimented your skin perfectly, the black leather pants hugging your curves. Even at night, you radiated. Time seemed to slow just a bit.
Rooster was never quick to judge, but he was certain you were one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen. The only other woman on that list was his mother.
“No, I’m sorry, this scooter was the death of me,” He quickly apologized, gesturing to the hell on wheels behind him. “I should’ve paid attention better.”
“Rooster, we go out once, and you’re already embarrassing us!” Fanboy said, suppressing a laugh. He knew how Rooster was eyeing you, and he was planning on teasing him about it later. Payback and Phoenix were thinking the same.
“Oh, is it your guys’ first time around here?” You asked. A phone began to buzz in your pocket, and you reached to pull it out. 
Rooster nodded. The rest of the squad moved closer to the two of you to be included in the conversation. 
“How lovely!” You glanced at the rest of his friends. You pointed to the bar a couple of yards away. “This is one of the best bars in the city. They don’t skimp out on alcohol either.”
“See, Fanboy,” Coyote shot the WSO a smug look. “Yelp never lies.”
“I have to take this call,” You gestured to your buzzing phone. “But perhaps I’ll see you inside. Again, I’m so sorry for bumping into you, I hope you guys enjoy the rest of your night!
And you were off. The group collectively gave a wave, while you made a beeline for the entrance.
His eyes followed you as you walked in.
He wished he got your name.
245 notes · View notes
spiralcass · 7 months
Text
NEW X-MEN: THE ANIMATED SERIES - SEASON 2, EPISODE 9
We open in the past, to a time we've glimpsed before. In the time that immediately preceded the original rise of Dark Phoenix, the classic X-Men have been defeated and captured by the Hellfire Club. Nightcrawler, Colossus, and Storm are stripped down and trapped in hanging cages, with only the latter still conscious. 
Storm screams in agony as Emma, the heartless White Queen, psychically tortures her. She tells Storm to stop resisting and that she just wants them to be friends, while speaking in a sickeningly sweet tone and visibly is having the time of her life doing this. 
Emma pauses her attack and gives Storm the chance to speak. Panting, but still determined, Storm tells her that she will not get away with whatever she's planning and that she will face the wrath of a goddess for this insult. 
Emma reaches her hand through the bars and slaps her. 
A goddess? She thinks far too much of herself. But that's okay. The White Queen is here to teach her her proper place in the world. 
Emma resumes torturing Ororo, laughing maniacally as she does so. 
In the present, Emma is seated at Scott's desk, laughing more casually as she twirls her finger in her hair. She's on the phone, but it isn't clear who she's talking to, as they simply make small talk. 
Outside in the hall, Storm is looking to speak with Cyclops, but hears Emma's voice inside. She takes a deep breath and steels herself before heading into the office. 
Storm demands to know why Emma is in here on her own and where Scott is, but Emma just raises a finger, telling her to wait a minute.
Storm gets impatient as Emma obnoxiously draws out the call. Before she finally hangs up, she tells the person on the other end of the call "the plan will not fail."
Once Emma is off the phone, Storm asks her what that was about. Emma tells her not to worry; it's actual business, not X-Men business. She wouldn't understand. 
Storm sneers at her, but refuses to take the bait, and just asks where Scott is. Emma informs her that he's prepping the Blackbird. They have matters in France to attend to. 
Storm asks if Emma found a new Mutant, but Emma only hums that it's something like that. Increasingly frustrated, Storm notes that ever since Scott and Emma began "SIGH…dating" the X-Men haven't gone on any missions as a team. The two of them dealt with Sublime on their own, they've been hunting the remaining U-Men cells on their own, and they've been retrieving new Mutants on their own. 
Emma says that yes, they have, and things are going well. But Storm shouldn't feel redundant. She knows she's doing her best. 
Storm slams her hands down on the desk. Perhaps if she delegated more, she could focus more time on addressing the telepaths she brought here who terrorized the rest of their students. Emma tries to assure her she's handling the Cuckoos, but Storm doesn't care. Too little, too late. 
STORM: "I am through putting up with your rank arrogance. Test me again, and I'll test how durable your diamond form truly is."
Storm marches off, while Emma just kicks her legs up on the table and smirks. She's looking forward to it. 
Elsewhere in the school, Iceman is teaching sex ed. While he is properly demonstrating how to put on a condom, he cannot stop making horny sex jokes as he does so. 
Seated in this class are Brian and Quentin. The two of them aren't paying any attention, with Brian having already gotten this talk from his dad when he came out as gay, while Quentin figures he won't be getting any until he's rich, famous, and beloved.
BRIAN: "Aren't you already rich?"
QUENTIN: "Yes, but not famous or beloved."
Brian tells him, if nothing else, he likes him, and thanks Quentin for still talking to him after all the "Hellions" crap. Quentin appreciates it, with him mentioning that Brian is the only one who directly apologized to him, but he really never even blamed him. 
QUENTIN: "You're a sheep who lives among a pack of wolves. You did what you had to do to survive. I believed Cessily to be a sheep as well, but she's shown her true colors." 
BRIAN, weirded out: "Riiiiight." 
Brian turns his attention away from his new sorta-friend, and toward Iceman, just in time to hear…
ICEMAN: "...but listen, it may be my job to teach you all how to do this yourself, but for all you studs, I'm rooting for you to have someone else doing it." 
Among a mix of awkward laughter and a single enthusiastic cheer from Specter, Brian raises an eyebrow. 
The bell rings and everyone starts clearing out. As Brian stands, Quentin's face lights up as he checks to make sure Brian is still free to come with him to Jumbo Carnation's fashion show that weekend. 
BRIAN: "I still can't believe you're into fashion."
QUENTIN: *Snapping his suspenders*: "I don’t see how."
Brian laughs. 
BRIAN: "Yeah, man. I'm there."
As Brian walks off, Quentin eagerly turns to Glob, who was sitting on the opposite side of him, and raises his hand for a high five. 
QUENTIN: "Wooh! A second friend! Gonna be great."
Glob taps Quentin's hand. 
In the hangar bag, Scott is prepping the Blackbird and…is also telling it what a good girl it is. With the new engine he had Beast install, she's gonna fly better than ever. 
"Eh hem". 
Scott, embarrassed, turns around to find Ororo behind him, an amused smile on her face. 
Scott: "Ororo, I was just…um…"
Storm laughs and tells him to be calm. She likes the rare moments he allows himself to be at ease. 
Scott asks if this means they're talking again…again. Ororo confesses that she'll never be able to stay mad at him forever.
STORM: "Although Kitty may be a different story."
Scott: "She learned a lot from Logan. Including how to hold a grudge."
Scott follows up and asks if this also means she's willing to give Emma a chance. Storm confirms that, no, actually, she's more suspicious than ever. 
Scott sighs and rubs his forehead, but Ororo tells him to listen to her. No, obviously, she has not been fond of Emma's presence since she arrived, nor has she supported…whatever is going on between her and Scott…but this is different. She spoke to Emma just now and she seemed different. And yet also familiar. 
Scott asks her to stop, but Ororo refuses. She knows she sensed a darkness around her earlier, and she fears she knows why. She came here on his invitation, broke up his marriage, and has had him largely isolated recently - the latter a strategy they both know she's used to control people before. 
SCOTT: "Get to the point."
STORM: "The point is that I believe she's tired of denying her true nature. And she desires to drag you into darkness with her."
Scott stares down at the floor in thought. 
SCOTT: "Ok."
STORM: "Okay?"
Cyclops tells her he's hearing her, and assures her he does get why she's concerned. There are no telepaths stronger than Emma left on Earth, but Betsy and Rachel, together, should still be able to get in her mind, no problem. She can call them and have them investigate as soon as he and Emma get home. In the meantime, she's in charge. 
Storm concedes that that's fair. It doesn't happen often, but she hopes that she's wrong. 
Storm wishes him luck and flies off, passing Emma on her way out.  The two exchange one more glare. 
Ororo immediately flies to the teacher's lounge, where Kitty, Beto, and Bobby are having lunch together. She tells Kitty that she's decided to accompany Cyclops and Emma on their France mission for the next several days; she's in charge while they're all gone. 
KITTY: "Wait, I'm fourth in command?!"
BETO AND BOBBY, mouths full: "She's fourth in command???"
Storm knows she'll do well, offering brief encouragement before departing in a rush. 
Kitty's stomach rumbles, and she doesn't think it was the tuna. 
In the cafeteria, the friend group, sans Brian, is having lunch. With Noriko having evidently decided to share with everyone else what she shared with Julian, Cessily wants to know more about the "Old Noriko". 
CESSILY: "Were you boy crazy? Were you super excited about school festivals and stuff?!"
NORIKO: "One, please learn about Japan from something other than anime. Two, yes. Yes, I was."
Everyone laughs. 
JULIAN: "She also mentioned while we were in the med bay that she was on the volleyball team."
The laughter continues as Noriko buries her face in her hands. 
ROXY: "So you DO have a hobby!"
NORIKO, embarrassed and growling: "Screw you, Keller."
JULIAN: "Not in your wildest dreams."
Sofia rolls her eyes. After what the two of them went through together, she'd hoped they'd be a little kinder toward one another. 
Noriko and Julian both bristle at that, but underneath the table, we see that they're playfully kicking at each other's feet. 
CESSILY: "Wait, Nori! If we could get a volleyball team started here, I could cheer for you!"
Even more laughter. Nori wants to die. 
NORIKO, to Laura: "I don't suppose you can distract everyone by telling us about the time you killed some pro volleyball player?"
Laura tilts her head and thinks. 
LAURA: "I don't think I ever killed a VOLLEYball player."
Sooraya pats her on the back. 
Brian arrives, taking his seat and asking everyone if they've noticed anything "off" about Mr. Drake. 
JULIAN: "You mean besides the fact he's dumber than Ashida?" 
Nori adds a little shock to their game of footsie, making him fall out of his seat.
While everyone now laughs at Julian, instead, Brian explains what he's talking about. Namely, he seems unnaturally horny. And in contrast to how sexless the rest of the teachers are around them, besides Ms. Frost, he can't help but wonder if he's maybe over-performing. 
CESSILY: "You think Iceman might be gay?"
ROXY: "I dunno. Seems pretty straight to me. Guy's gotten to sleep with Polaris. You'd be horny too if you lost that."
BRIAN: "I really wouldn't be." 
Brian sighs. He can't just ask him something like this, you don't just drag someone out of the closet…but maybe he could find out if he's right and ease him out at the same time. 
NORIKO: "This sounds like a terrible plan that could only have even worse consequences and I support you 100%."
LAURA: "I'm bored. I'll help." 
NORIKO: "Oh even better! 
In a dialogue-free montage, Scott and Emma are yucking it up in the Blackbird as they fly to France, with Storm trailing right behind them, staying just far away enough for her to not be picked up by the plane’s sensors. 
In France, Storm, in disguise, follows Scott and Emma and is deeply annoyed when she discovers the two are just on a getaway, having fun, and not actually doing any work. Still, she keeps watching just in case that changes. It does not. She’s simply left annoyed as she watches Emma drag Scott around Paris, the two getting lunch in a fancy restaurant, catching the opera, and, clearly, Scott’s favorite part, taking a helicopter tour. 
Storm looks like she’s two seconds away from killing herself in frustration by the end of this. 
Back in the teacher’s lounge, Iceman is watching TV.  There’s a knock on the door, and Bobby laughs that they don’t need to knock. Brian and Laura enter. 
ICEMAN: “Oh. Kids. I guess you did need to knock.” He continues to talk as they approach him. “You know it’s weird they let you be an X-Man but treat you like another one of the students, right?” 
LAURA: “Believe me, I know.” 
Brian re-introduces himself since he and Iceman haven’t really talked, but Bobby does know him. After all, he’s one of their “X-Men in Training”. 
ICEMAN: “You’re the Alpha-level telekinetic, right?” 
TAG: “No. I just said I’m Tag. I tag myself and make people run away.” 
ICEMAN: “Right, right, right.” Iceman mumbles to himself that that doesn’t seem like much of an X-Man power. Brian hears this and sneers. “So, what do you need?” 
Brian says that he’s pretty open about it, but he’s gay. Bobby thinks he should be talking to Northstar then. He seems to be getting along with that other gay kid. Well, about as well as Jean-Paul gets along with anyone. 
ICEMAN: “Wait, does this have to do with sex ed? Oh god please tell me it doesn’t have to do with me.” 
Brian takes a breath, trying to stay focused and keep his cool. He gets that this can be hard. He asks Bobby if he’s into anyone right now. Bobby says not really, but, well, he wouldn’t say no to a night with Dazzler. 
BRIAN: “Dazzler. Interesting choice. And what about–?” 
LAURA: “Are you gay?” 
BOBBY: “WHAT?!” 
BRIAN: “LAURA!” 
LAURA, shrugging: “I came because I was bored. I was getting bored again.” 
Bobby is frustrated, annoyed and confused, but makes clear that, no, no he is very much not gay. There’s nothing wrong with living like that, but it’s not his speed. He tells them both to get out. Now. 
BRIAN: “I just thought–” 
ICEMAN: “Now!” 
Dejected, Brian exits, Laura following along. 
LAURA: “We did our best.” 
Brian glares at her. 
LAURA: “What?” 
In Scott’s office, Kitty is at his desk being forced to pick up his and Emm’s workload. After less than a day, she already seems to be losing her mind. She’s struggling to juggle all of the phone calls, emails, reports, and scheduling required of her. 
Eventually, she finds herself with a moment to breathe…only for Dazzler to stomp in, pissed off. Apparently, Kitty sent her a notice that she’s to go out of her to spend some time with the Cuckoos. 
DAZZLER: “I’m not dealing with those little terrors! They’re Emma’s problem!” 
Kitty rubs her forehead and softly asks Allison not to shout. For one, this was Scott’s idea, not hers. They may be Emma’s squad, but they’ve expressed that they’re fans of, and want to be like, Dazzler. So, they need her to be a good rolemodel for them. They’re not asking. 
DAZZLER: “Gross. This is going to be worse than all of those, “Win a Chance to Spend a Day with Dazzler” sweepstakes.” 
Allison agrees, but mumbles about finding a new agent as she exits. 
Kitty sighs as she leans back in her chair, but she is once again denied a moment of peace. A stepping disc opens behind her, and Magik puts her hands over her eyes. 
MAGIK: “Guess who!” 
KITTY: “Ugggh. Selene Gallio?” 
MAGIK: “Ha! She wishes!” 
Magik teleports in front of Kitty and asks why she’s such a mess. Kitty explains that she never quite realized WHY they needed multiple headmasters, and she’s now terrified that this is going to be all on her one day. 
Yana thinks she’s looking at this the wrong way though. Instead of freaking out about having to do all this work, she should use her minions. 
KITTY: “My minions?”
MAGIK: “The teachers! They’re all here because they want to be. And if they want to work so bad, they may as well be working as hard as those in gulags.” 
Kitty doesn’t like the “gulag” part…but maybe she could get some help from them. Magik tells her not to worry about it. She can just stay focused on what she’s doing now. Just give her the authority, and she’ll whip them all into shape. 
Kitty takes a moment to consider if she should really do this. 
KITTY: “Fine. You know what, it’s either this or I drink, and I’m not 21 for another month! Let’s give it a try!” 
Magik laughs maniacally. 
KITTY: “Not helping, Yana.” 
In Paris, Scott and Emma get checked into a hotel. Storm is completely fed up and is frustrated in disbelief that this is what they left the school for. She’s about to head home, but before she flies off, she notices someone exiting the same hotel. Someone who’s been referenced, but never seen before. 
STORM: “Fabian Cortez.” 
On his phone, Fabian tells someone that he’s on his way, and that their final participants have arrived. It’s time for the new hunt to begin. Storm is left to ponder as Fabian gets into his car and is driven off. 
Storm shuts her eyes and softly vocalizes everything she knows. Cortez was one of Magneto’s followers during his darker days, but he also worked alongside Trevor Fitzroy as one of the Upstarts, a group of rich and powerful Mutants who “hunted” other Mutants for their own sick amusement. The Upstarts fell apart after Fitzroy was killed…by Emma, after the Upstarts murdered the Hellions. If they’ve reassembled, their new hunt needs to be nipped in the bud before anyone gets hurt, but she has no idea who she could be facing. 
Ororo turns back to the hotel, thinking about looking to Cyclops and Emma for backup. 
STORM: “Their final participants have arrived. No…no, it couldn’t be. Scott would never. Even Emma would never work with THEM.”  
Storm thinks about it for a minute more…before deciding she cannot risk it, and flies after Cortez to face the new Upstarts alone. 
In the gymnasium, Laura is running Brian through his hand-to-hand combat drills, since the Danger Room was taken offline once again after it almost took Emma’s head off. Notably, unlike Sofia’s training sessions with her, this does not involve sparring with Wolverine. 
Brian complains to Laura that she was supposed to help with Iceman, not do exactly what he said not to. Laura counters that his strategy wasn’t getting anywhere. She could read from his body language and how he reacted to what she said that Brian was right if that’s any consolation. 
BRIAN: “Barely.” 
Brian sighs that there has to be something they can do to help him, but Laura has a question. 
LAURA: “So many cultures seem to take issue with attraction to one’s own sex. Why?” 
BRIAN: “Why do people hate Mutants?” 
Laura pauses. 
LAURA: “Hate and fear. Weaknesses of the mind.” She pops out her claws. “People should be afraid of me for this. But why fear who I want to kiss?” 
BRIAN: “You mean why fear you for wanting to kiss Sofia?” 
Laura, unamused, flips Brian off with a single claw. 
Brian wishes he got it himself, but he’s not exactly a history scholar. All he knows is that religion has “something” to do with it, the hate has been passed down for thousands of years, and people are always just looking for something to get angry at. 
BRIAN: “Not like they can’t just read comics if that’s what they want.” 
Laura asks if that’s why he and Cessily got so into the whole “Hellions” thing. 
LAURA: “You’re both angry. At the whole world. And that what your way of getting back at it. Right?” 
BRIAN: “...something like that.” 
Brian admits that he knows it was wrong, and he knew it was wrong at the time, but it still felt so good. He felt like he was powerful and had no reason to be afraid at all. 
Inside a warehouse, a platinum haired woman in red and yellow looks up at a blank scoreboard as she sips a glass of wine,  excitedly moaning over how good it is. Really, it’s the perks like these that she missed most about running with the Upstarts. 
Brian asks if Laura will spar with him like she spars with Sofia. He wants to get stronger. Laura warns him he'll get hurt, but he's up to the challenge.
As she stuffs horderves in her face, a young man in a suit approaches her, questioning what she HAS been doing. She’s as powerful as any Mutant, but she’s been, what, robbing banks? 
“Really, Sienna, I’d have thought you’d do more.” 
SIENNA BLAZE: “Ah, shut it, Shaw. You don’t know my story.” 
 “Nor do I particularly care about it. And please, it’s Shinobi.” 
Cortez enters with a wide, fake grin on his face, telling his old accomplices how lovely they both look tonight and how happy he is they could make it for this little reunion. Shinobi tells him to drop the bit. He’s only here because Cortez promised this hunt would conclude with a group assault on the Xavier Institute, and he wants to wring his hands around the necks of the children who humiliated his father. Sienna is more of the spirit of things and is excited to get started, questioning if the only ones yet to arrive are the newbies. 
SHINOBI: “I certainly hope so. Otherwise, that would mean our dear host invited…” 
“Greetings, old friends!” 
Shinobi and Sienna both cringe as Andreas and Andrea Von Strucker enter the scene. Fabian happily greets them both, blowing air kisses at the two, delighted that Baron Von Strucker’s wonderful children could rejoin them for this. 
Shinobi and Sienna both glare at Cortez. 
CORTEZ: “What? They’re good at what they do?” 
Sienna groans while Shinobi pinches his nose and moans, “Damn nazis.” 
Andreas mocks that they’re clearly intimidated by them, while Sienna clarifies that, no, they just don’t want them kissing in front of them. 
ANDREA: “For someone so promiscuous, you sure are a prude.” 
SIENNA: “Who are you calling a prune?! Oh I am ready to start this hunt right now!” 
Before Sienna can start something, Fabian tells everyone to calm down and not be so hasty. Their final players should be arriving any moment now. 
An explosion occurs, blowing a hole in one of the warehouse’s walls, with two men, recognized by comic fans as John Greycrow and Riptide, flying through it, unconscious. Everyone turns their attention to the attack, as Storm enters, lit up with electricity and floating above the Upstarts. 
STORM: “Whatever any of you are considering doing next…I recommend surrendering instead.” 
Naturally, the Upstarts aren’t going to back down that easily, and ready themselves for battle. 
Back in America, Bobby has come to visit Chrisitan Frost. Christian eagerly greets him, referring to him as “my hero”, and it’s established they’ve seen each other a couple of other times since Iceman saved Christian from the U-Men. 
BOBBY: “I’m sure you’re just happy to have ANYONE besides your sister visiting you.” 
CHRISTIAN: “Are you implying that nearly all my social interaction for a decade and a half involving social gossip and hearing about the latest lives Emma’s destroyed would get tiring? Because you don’t know the half of it.” 
Christian obviously doesn’t have any news himself, but he likes hearing about the newest going ons with the X-Men from him; he’s more honest about the embarrassing parts than Emma is. 
BOBBY: “Uh, well, Emma’s with Cyclops in France right now. To be determined what that’s about. We just took in a demon? I guess? We’re still trying to–” 
Christian cuts him off. 
CHRISTIAN: “Stop. A demon? Demons are real?” 
BOBBY: “Wow, you’re as out of the loop as the dumb kids I teach.” 
Bobby laughs, before spinning that out into a tangent about his earlier encounter with Brian and Laura. He couldn’t believe these kids! Why the Hell would they think he’s gay?! Christian raises an eyebrow and reminds him that HE’S gay. 
BOBBY, gesturing to their surroundings: “Obviously! And obviously, I have nothing against gay people!” 
CHRISTIAN: “Then why do you sound so offended?” 
BOBBY: “I’m not offended!” 
The two stare each other down until Christian laughs. Bobby asks what’s so funny. 
CHRISTIAN: “Nothing, nothing. I’d just forgotten how those words sounded.” 
Christian reminds Bobby that he’s quite a bit older than him, and tells him that what he’s saying is normal. He acted this way too. A lot of them have. It’s what they’re taught to say. 
CHRISTIAN: “To be honest, you aren’t hard to peg. At least in that way. I saw it the day we met. I’m sorry those brats brought this up to you before you were ready.” 
BOBBY: “Are you calling me gay too?” 
CHRISTIAN: “You’re something. If you need to deny it more, go ahead. That’s your choice. But think about all the thoughts you’ve had. Think about your life. And make that choice with everything in mind.” 
BOBBY, hanging his head: “I…I don’t…you’re not trying to seduce me, are you? Cause I know you Frosts like younger men.” 
CHRISTIAN: “Keep making jokes if you have to. Whatever makes you comfortable.” Christian smirks at him flirtatiously. “And I’m only trying to seduce you if you want me to be.” 
Bobby stares off into space as he wraps a sheet of ice around his face. 
In Sunspot’s bedroom, he’s on the phone with Monet, who’s screaming at him in French. Roberto, also speaking in French, asks her to please stop shouting. No, Cyclops and Emma haven’t figured out what they’re doing. Frankly, he’d be embarrassed if they already had. No, they’re just in France doing…something. 
MONET, over the phone: “I am not going down helping you, Da Costa. Especially not to Ms. Frost.” 
There’s a knock on the door. 
ROBERTO: “We haven’t done anything wrong. Yet. Try to have some faith in me, hmm? I have to go.” 
Roberto takes off his headphones, hangs up, and answers the door. 
KITTY, disheveled, but less than before, grinning: “Hi!” She dumps a stack of papers in his hands. “Bye!” 
Kitty starts walking away, but Beto follows and asks what this is. Kitty explains that she’s in charge, and she’s decided to delegate some of her duties as temporary headmistress. 
KITTY: “Have fun!” 
Magik appears beside Kitty as she gets away from Sunspot and the two giggle together. The look on his face just now was priceless! The most nostalgic thing she’s seen since she got here. 
KITTY: “Yeah…wake up the others.” 
In their bedrooms, Beast, Nightcrawler, Dazzler, Northstar, and Warpath are all woken up from their peaceful slumber as airhorns mystically emerge next to their heads and blow out their eardrums, before Yana’s voice comes out of them, shouting at them to get up NOW; there’s work to be done. 
HANK, rubbing his head: “As if I needed another reason to leave.” 
In France, while the rest of the Upstarts are ready to tear Storm to shreds, Cortez approaches her with open arms and asks if she’s here to join them on their hunt. They may disagree about whether or not Mutants are a higher form of life than humans, but she is Storm, the so-called goddess - she thinks herself a higher form of life than everyone. 
Storm threatens him not to presume to understand her, but the Fenris twins believe he has her pegged. For someone so insufferably arrogant, it’s peculiar that she doesn’t flex more. Not that they’d expect someone like her to know what she was doing. 
Storm calls down a bolt of lightning from the heavens and blasts Fenris away. 
CORTEZ: “So much for the open hand of friendship!” 
Charged up with electromagnetic energy, Sienna flies at Storm. She kicked her ass once, and this time she’s putting her in the ground for good. 
SIENNA: “Assuming there’s enough left of you for that.” 
As Storm flies and deflects her attacks, mocking that she’s deluding herself if she believes she’s the same Mutant she was when they first fought years ago, increased pressure is put on her as a still conscious Fenris hold hands and attempt to shoot her down with energy blasts. 
Andreas reminds her that Blaze isn’t the only one to have nearly taken her out, with Andrea following that if she hadn’t been so annoying and survived, shooting her in her ugly little face would have been the happiest of memories. 
Storm summons a fierce wind and sends all three of them flying back into a wall. Staying alert, she scans with her eyes for Cortez and Shinobi. Shinobi attempts to get the drop on her, literally, as he phases through the ceiling, and attempts to skewer her with a katana from above. Ororo dodges, and continues to dance around his blade swipes, as he continues to say that the X-Men, and especially her, are nothing but hypocrites. They all know they’re above humanity, but they’re too weak to act on that and have the nerve to judge and get in the way of those attempting to take their rightful place. Especially in Storm’s case, if there was ever a spine behind that ego, she’d make a fearsome queen. 
Storm’s eyes widen with rage, as her memory flashes through Emma torturing her years ago, as well as Cyclops and Emma kissing, and the image of the Phoenix. 
STORM: “I AM NO QUEEN!” 
Reaching out her hand, Storm engulfs Shinobi in a localized snowstorm, freezing him instantly; phasing won’t save him. 
STORM: “I am nothing like her.” 
Storm is ready to deal with the others next, but she suddenly feels extremely weak. Fabian laughs as he approaches from behind. Whatever she’d like to deny, she absolutely is as arrogant as himself. She was in such a rush to be the big hero, she clearly forgot about what he could do. 
CORTEZ: “I cannot shut off the powers of an Omega such as yourself entirely, but I can damn sure make you weak enough for a strengthened Blaze to obliterate you.” 
ANDREA: “You’re boosting us as well, yes?” 
ANDREAS: “We deserve to–!” 
Before the nazi twins can say anything else, Blaze screams as Cortez increases her power level, and the uncontrolled electromagnetic forces she manipulates rip Fenris apart, killing them both. 
Storm looks on in horror, unsure of what she can do. 
At the Institute, it’s the dead of night, and while Kitty and Magik are asleep peacefully in their beds, most of the other teachers are passed out in the teacher’s lounge or in their classrooms while working. Only Beast is still awake, as he kvetches and mocks Kitty’s order. 
BEAST: “I want the Danger Room fixed already!, she says. As if I haven’t been working on it for months. There is nothing wrong with it!” 
Hanging upside down in the Danger Room, Hank finishes eating a banana. He’s still hungry though. A peanut butter and banana sandwich before returning to this impossible task sounds good. 
Hank heads down the hall but hears strange sounds and banging coming from somewhere. He follows the noise to a closet. He’s hesitant to open it, but when the magnitude of the rumbling increases and it sounds like things are breaking, he feels he has no choice. 
Hank screams as he sees Julian and Noriko forcefully making out in the closet, their powers going wild and breaking everything else inside. The two teens of course scream in response to Hank screaming. 
JULIAN: “We were just kissing!” 
NORIKO: “We are NOT dating!” 
JULIAN: “I would never date this loser.” 
NORIKO: “And I would never date this jerk.” 
JULIAN: “Do NOT tell Sofia!” 
NORIKO: “Or anyone! 
Hank composes and gives them both a blank stare. If they promise to use protection if this goes further, he’ll forget he saw anything. Noriko and Julian instantly nod. Hank sighs as he walks off, shutting the door behind him. Julian and Noriko immediately resume making out. 
In France, the raging Sienna screams in agony as she brings down the building around them, shaking the world. Storm does her best to dodge her attacks, all while keeping an eye on Cortez. She knows that if she can just land a hit on him and knock him out, Blaze will pass out from exhaustion. This becomes more difficult as Cortez pulls out a gun, attempting to aid Blaze in shooting Storm out of the sky. 
CORTEZ: “Isn’t this so much more fun than a bank robbery, Sienna?! The hunt may be spoiled, but when we’re done here, we can still go and kill every last X-Man, and all their little–” 
Storm, spotting a split-second opportunity, shoots a lightning blast at Cortez. He’s sent flying into rubble. However, he gets up just a moment later, remarking that the collision hurt more than that little taze. 
As things get worse and worse, and we see various parts of France throughout the episode being affected by Blaze’s attacks, Storm changes tactics, pleading with Blaze to try and control herself. They agree on nothing, but if mass destruction was what she longed for, she could have achieved that long ago. She must stop, for everyone else, and for herself. 
Blaze tries to fight it, slowing down her attacks as her own body cracks, but Cortez won’t be having that, and further boosts her. What follows is overwhelming. 
The warehouse is completely destroyed, Shinobi seemingly killed, and Blaze’s blast all but knocks Storm out, with her severely injured and barely clinging to consciousness. 
Cortez laughs maniacally as he tells Blaze to finish it. Kill Storm, and wipe out this entire Flatscan civilization! 
Blaze screams, Cortez laughs, and Storm struggles to stand…until the former two simply fall over unconscious. The Earth ceases to shake and Storm breathes a sigh of relief. 
STORM: “What just…?” 
“Not to speak down to you as if you were a student, but I must ask: what were you thinking coming here alone?” 
Storm cringes as she pushes herself to stand up. Emma has arrived on the scene. 
The next morning at the Institute, the friend group is having breakfast in the cafeteria. Cessily is excitedly telling everyone how she just got the call from the Washingtons, and she’s going to be a background dancer in their next video. 
While this is going on, Sofia, who’s still sitting as far away from Julian as she can, lapses into old feelings and sends a small wind over his way to put his stray hair back in place. Julian smiles at her and she smiles back, but when Julian looks back in front of him at Noriko, she shoots him a look that says, “Dude, what the Hell are you doing?”. From the look on Julian’s face, he has no idea either. Laura watches all three of them intently. 
Iceman approaches the kids and asks Brian if he can talk to him alone for a minute. Brian says sure, and the two end up in Bobby’s classroom. 
Brian starts apologizing to Mr. Drake for yesterday, but Bobby tells him to stop. He can’t deny what Brian and Laura said touched a nerve and, after talking about it with someone else and making him think, maybe he was onto something. He’s still not sure. But he’s sorry he snapped at the kids, “I don’t think Wolverine cares about hearing an apology”, and he’s grateful to Brian for at least reaching out to try and help; he’s a good kid. 
Brian thanks him and tells him there’s no need to be sorry. He gets it. And he’s happy to have at least helped Mr. Drake start questioning. 
BOBBY: “About that…what made you think that anyway?” 
Brian explains to him how his pretty extreme outward heterosexuality is a pretty common sign. Some other little things he picks up too. And also...he may have been projecting a little. 
BRIAN: “Real talk? I’ve been a fan since before I even knew I was a Mutant. I love my dad, I wouldn’t trade him for anyone, but…he’s kind of a dork. Didn’t really have anyone immediately around who was “big and tough” to emulate like I wanted, you know? But then, I’d see clips of you online. Strongest guy in the world. Wanted to be just like you.” 
BOBBY, laughing to himself, pretending to be humble: “Strongest guy in the world? I don’t know about that, I haven’t fought Magneto or Exodus since I got this powerful, but…sorry, continue.” 
Brian goes on to say that part of why he tries to help his friends as much as he can, tried to help Mr. Drake…part of why he went with the Hellions thing…was because he knows he’ll never be strong on his own. End of the day, he’s only an X-Man in Training because he made the right friends. End of the day, they’ll all be X-Men, he won’t be. 
BRIAN: “You said it yourself. Tagging isn’t much of an X-Man power.” 
Bobby shakes his head. He thinks Brian misunderstands a few things. He wasn’t ALWAYS an Omega. Back when he was Brian’s age, he was considered the weakling of the original 5 X-Men. The dumb little brother who everyone needed to protect. How was throwing snowballs and tripping people on slippery roads supposed to make a real difference? 
BOBBY: “There may be a lot more power inside you than you realize. And even if there isn’t? There are all kinds of ways the X-Men could use someone with a power like yours. You’ve got potential. And if the rest of the X-Men didn’t think so, they would have swapped you out for someone else.” 
Brian thanks him. He’ll keep all that in mind. He should get back to his friends now though. But hey, maybe if he wants to start exploring his potential queerness for real, he’d want to come with him and Quentin to Jumbo Carnation’s upcoming fashion show? 
BOBBY: “HA! No. Nope. Appreciate the offer, but I am definitely not ready for something like that.” 
Brian gets it and the two fist bump. 
In the office, several of the teachers haven’t shown up for their classes, and she can’t reach them on their phones or communicators. She has no idea what’s going on. 
In the corner, Magik laughs. Really? Does the girl genius have no idea? 
MAGIK: “KItty, you overworked your minions all night! They’re probably all exhausted and passed out!” 
KITTY: “They’re all superheroes, I thought they could handle it! Wait, if you knew this would happen, why did you tell me to do this?!” 
MAGIK: “Duh, because I’m a queen with years of experience, and when you end up taking this place over for real, you should know what you’re doing. Lessons like this are necessary.” Illyana boops Kitty’s nose. “You’re welcome.” 
As Magik shuts her eyes and smugly waits for an apology, Kitty growls and jumps at her, phasing them both through the floor. Magik just laughs. 
In the rubble of the destroyed warehouse, Storm demands Emma not to take one step closer and explain what’s going on here. Emma sighs that Ororo never can just thank her. Not long ago, they received a report from SHIELD that Domino had been apprehended after being caught working for Fabian. Hating to see a former X-Man in human custody, she arranged a deal for her. She’d pull strings to get her out, in exchange for information that would result in Cortez’s capture. She convinced her to go along with it, and so she came out here to apprehend him, dragging Scott along for a bit of fun. She didn’t want his help though.  
EMMA: “For me, facing the Upstarts alone was personal. Why would you not seek out our aid? And why did you follow us at all?” 
Storm cools off and sighs before explaining that she didn’t trust them. She hasn’t ever trusted Emma, of course, but she sensed something especially off with her earlier. She was concerned with what she was planning on doing, both WHILE here, and TO Scott. 
Emma rolls her neck and concedes she can’t entirely blame her. For any of it. She can see how her relationship with Scott may seem suspicious in light of everything, but all it is is that she’s never had someone she cared for in such a way. She’s not sure she likes how that feels, but she knows she wants to keep him close. And what she sensed earlier was likely her murderous intent. She freely admits she was not planning on allowing any of the Upstarts to survive. 
EMMA: “I was a monster in the past. Towards you, especially. I understand your hate. And I cannot deny, that treatment of you…came from jealousy.” 
Storm doesn’t buy THAT at all, an amused smirk on her face. Emma knows how ridiculous and embarrassing it sounds, but it’s true. After Jean’s death, they were the two most powerful women in the world. But no matter her bluster, Emma knew she was a distant second to Ororo. That was why she hated her so much. 
Ororo smiles and questions what has Emma opening up like this, saying all these pretty words she’d never say. Emma answers that, frankly, this feud between them had become exhausting. And it’s reaching a point where it’s putting their lives in danger. She just wants it put to bed. 
Storm looks at Emma for a few moments. 
STORM: “Once again, the opportunity to betray us was open to you. And once again, you prove yourself an ally. So long as we’re sharing things we never would, and you are humbling yourself, perhaps I have been too harsh with you. You will always be a monster in my eyes. That cannot be changed. But I can try and understand that that isn’t who you really are. Not anymore.” 
EMMA: “I’m certainly not asking for us to be friends so that sounds like a nice start.” 
Emma reaches out a hand, and Ororo shakes it. 
STORM: “You may be a distant #2, but we should still be able to achieve a great deal cooperating with one another.” 
EMMA: “Oh, don’t make this a whole thing, goddess.” 
Emma asks if Ororo would care for a room in the hotel, but Storm thinks she’ll just be heading up. She left Kitty in charge and she’s not sure she thought that one through. Emma tells her it’s probably fine; Ororo raised her well. 
With smiles on their faces, Ororo starts flying away from Emma, as the usual episode wrapup music kicks in…
…only for it to be cut off, as, on a close-up of an evil smirk on Emma’s face, she whispers, “Finally”. 
With a psychic blast, Emma shoots Ororo out of the sky. Storm is still conscious, but she’s completely paralyzed. Emma snickers as she floats over to her. 
EMMA: “Oh Storm. Always so arrogant. Of course “humbling” myself before the goddess was what would finally make you drop your guard. I should have seen it sooner.” She bends down and whispers in Storm’s ear. “You thought I was planning to betray the X-Men? You thought I was trying to corrupt Cyclops? You didn’t believe that I’d ever truly changed? Congratulations wind witch: you were right.” 
Emma laughs manically as Ororo’s eyes fill with fear and rage. 
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smashupmashups · 2 years
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Been on my to-do list after the Wolverine trilogy cases I made.
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Made with PhotoLayers, with the "4-Movie Collection" text made with Microsoft Paint and Free Online Image Editor.
These took me about two hours from searching for the suitable images and making the covers with separate images.
I made these because there has yet to be a 4-Movie pack of the entire X-Men Beginnings quadrilogy, not even Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment's even bothered to lift a finger to do that.
Now for the specifications.
DVD
X-Men: First Class
SPECIAL FEATURES: Composer's Isolated Score
AUDIO: English 5.1 Dolby Digital, English 2.0 Descriptive Audio, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, French 5.1 Dolby Digital
SUBTITLES: English, English SDH, Spanish, French
X-Men: Days of Future Past
SPECIAL FEATURES: Audio Commentary by Director Bryan Singer and Composer/Writer Simon Kinberg
AUDIO: English 5.1 Dolby Digital, English 2.0 Descriptive Audio, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, French 5.1 Dolby Digital
SUBTITLES: English, English SDH, Spanish, French
X-Men: Apocalypse
SPECIAL FEATURES: Audio Commentary by Bryan Singer and Simon Kinberg
AUDIO: English 5.1 Dolby Digital, English 2.0 Descriptive Audio, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, French 5.1 Dolby Digital
SUBTITLES: English, English SDH, Spanish, French
Dark Phoenix
SPECIAL FEATURES: Audio Commentary by Simon Kinberg and Hutch Parker
AUDIO: English 5.1 Dolby Digital, English 2.0 Descriptive Audio, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, French 5.1 Dolby Digital
SUBTITLES: English, English SDH, Spanish, French
Blu-ray
X-Men: First Class
SPECIAL FEATURES: Children of the Atom, Deleted and Extended Scenes, Composer's Isolated Score
AUDIO: English 7.1 Dolby TrueHD, English 2.0 Descriptive Audio, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, French 5.1 Dolby Digital
SUBTITLES: English, English SDH, Spanish, French
X-Men: Days of Future Past
SPECIAL FEATURES: The Rouge Cut*, Double Take: Xavier and Magneto, Sentinels: For a Secure Future, Classification: M, Kitchen Sequence, Theatrical Audio Commentary by Director Bryan Singer and Composer/Writer Simon Kinberg, Rouge Cut Audio Commentary by Director Bryan Singer and Composer/Film Editor John Ottman*, X-Men: Unguarded, Mutant vs. Machine, Gag Reel
AUDIO: English Dolby Atmos, English 2.0 Descriptive Audio, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, French 5.1 Dolby Digital
SUBTITLES: English, English SDH, Spanish, French
*Exclusive to this release.
X-Men: Apocalypse
SPECIAL FEATURES: X-Men: Apocalypse Unearthed, Wrap Party, Deleted and Extended Scenes with Optional Instructions by Bryan Singer, Gag Reel, Audio Commentary by Bryan Singer and Simon Kinberg
AUDIO: English Dolby Atmos, English 2.0 Descriptive Audio, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, French 5.1 Dolby Digital
SUBTITLES: English, English SDH, Spanish, French
Dark Phoenix
SPECIAL FEATURES: Deleted Scenes with Optional Commentary by Simon Kinberg and Hutch Parker, Rise of the Phoenix, How to Fly Your Jet to Space with Beast, Audio Commentary by Simon Kinberg and Hutch Parker
AUDIO: English Dolby Atmos, English 2.0 Descriptive Audio, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital, French 5.1 Dolby Digital
SUBTITLES: English, English SDH, Spanish, French
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iconsbitch · 4 years
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icon + header  jean grey on grand desing
exemple in the feed
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archiveheroes-blog · 5 years
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like or reblog if you save
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embracethedits · 5 years
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Sophie Turner / Tom Hiddleston - Packs
Collages are NOT MINE! (Credits to the owners)
Please like/reblog this post! Hope you like
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cityowfstars · 4 years
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— icons jessica chastain.
• like if u save / curta se você salvou
• follow me for more / me siga para mais
• credits in / créditos em @emmastner ( twitter )
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comicarthistory · 5 years
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Page from Uncanny X-Men #205. 1986. Art by Barry Windsor-Smith.
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sevinyledits · 5 years
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༄ Tye Sheridan icons [request]
› like/reblog if u save
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piedicons · 5 years
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please like or reblog if you save
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peakypacks · 5 years
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like if you liked it
reblog if you saved it
credits on twitter: bieakmidwintcr
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