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oboevallis · 3 years

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who is he

AU: amelia never told link he was the father of her son

“Amelia, you have to tell him eventually. Especially if he’s asking.” Meredith reprimanded as she stirred in sugar into her coffee. Since Scout was at school age everyone had been telling her he’d be asking questions about his father, and Amelia had been dreading that conversation. He had asked the question last night though, he asked Amelia why he didn’t have a dad present, his friend has two dads, and he could never recall him having one or mention of one.

“There’s nothing to tell him, Mer.” Amelia sighed as she situated her lab coat, and pulled her hair back.

“Well, he has a dad. Who may I add has no idea, that it’s their child.”

“Link made it clear if the baby wasn’t his he wasn’t interested. So when I found out the baby was his I realized, if he can’t love me for me he doesn’t deserve to love my kid. At the end of the day he’s mine.”

“And Link’s kid. It takes two to make a baby.”

“And only takes one to give them sufficient love no matter what.” Amelia sighed, sending a glare towards her sister before leaving the attendings lounge. Since Link left her and she’s had no contact with him, and wasn’t interested in doing so.

_______________________________________

“Mom?” Scout asked as he walked into his mother’s room.

“Yeah babe?” She patted the space in her bed next to her. Scout crawled into bed next to her and passed her a paper.

“We have to do a project about our lives, like where our names come from and our parents and like where we were born and stuff like that.” He pointed to each bullet point that had the criteria.

“Alright.” Amelia smiled, knowing her son he was going to try and find information about his father through this. “Seems simple enough, you want to get started now?”

“Hmm.” Scout seemed to contemplate this. “No, but maybe you can tell me the things I need to know?”

“Okay.” Amelia braced herself and sat up before passing the piece of paper back to him. “What do you need to know?”

“How did you and my dad meet?” Amelia leaned over to see the sheet of paper.

“I don’t see that as a question on the list.” She then pointed to one of the bullets on the list. “Here, we can do the ‘where we’re you born question’.” Amelia chuckled scooting closer to her son and wrapping her arm around her son. “I was in LA that’s in California. It was late at night and I couldn’t sleep, because you were kicking up a storm.”

“Did I hurt you when I would kick.”

“Nope, didn’t hurt a bit. It was just hard to get comfortable. Back to my story, I went outside and sat on the beach, then your Aunt Addison came and sat with me for awhile. It took her a long time to convince me that I needed to go to the hospital.”

“Why didn’t you want to go to the hospital?”

“I was scared.” She forced a smile, thinking about her first son, but she wasn’t going to get into that at the moment. “But then early early early in the morning you came, and I saw your cute little face and you were healthy and perfect. And I wasn’t scared anymore because I had you.” Scout smiled at his mother, before asking the next question.

“Why’d you name me Scout?” Amelia hesitated for a moment. He’d been named Scout because it correlated with his fathers name, and when she told Link it was a boy he’d suggested the name and at first she hated it, but when she saw her son for the first time she knew he was a Scout.

“Your name comes from a character in a book. You’ll get to read it when your a bit older.”

“I don’t have siblings, so can I talk about Zola and bailey and Ellis?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

“So how are they related to us?”

“Well, my brother Derek.”

“My middle name!”

“Yep, he’s the dad of Zola, Bailey, and Ellis. So since Derek and I are siblings his kids are my nieces and nephew, making them your cousins.”

“Do you miss your brother?”

“I do, everyday.” Amelia nodded.

“How about my dad? Do you miss him?”

“Why are you so keen on knowing about your dad?”

“I dunno, it seems like everyone has a dad. And they do things with them, like go to baseball games.”

“Well we’ve talked about how every family looks different. Like your friend has two dads and no mom? Some kids only have a dad, some have two moms. Our family is you and me.” She wrapped her arm around her son allowing him to lean his head on her shoulder. “And we can go to a baseball game if you really want to. We can do all those things.”

“Really? You’ll take me to a baseball game? You always say how dangerous it is.”

“Yeah, but we can go to a game. As long as your not partaking in the game yourself.”

“Deal!” Scout jumped up on the bed, shrieking with laughter. “Can we see the Mariners?” Her heart dropped at the mention of the team.

“Any other team you like?”

“Well yeah, but the Mariners are Seattle’s team. And we do live in Seattle, and I really like their mascot.”

“Okay, we can go to a game.” The neurosurgeon sighed nervously.

“Yay!” Scout jumped on to his mother engulfing her in a hug. “Your the best mommy ever.” Amelia smiled contently, savoring the hug.

_______________________________________

“This is reaaaaaaaaaaally big.” Scout said as they stood near the entrance and he was looking up at the stadium.

“It is isn’t it.” Amelia looked down at her beaming son and smiled, he had the same smile as his father. “Now when we go in, you don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

“Mom I’m 6 years old, I’m a big kid.”

“Yes you are a big kid, but I’m afraid I’m going to get lost so I’m gonna hold your hand.”

“Okay, I’ll protect you mom.”

“I appreciate that.” She squeezed her sons hand, and leaded them to ticket booth. Once they got into the stadium, Scout clung tightly to his mother obviously not used to the amount of people around them. “Want to get some nachos?”

“They have nachos here?” Amelia brightly smiled and nodded, knowing they were her sons favorite. “This is the best place ever!”

“Hmm.” Amelia hummed, she knew her son was over the moon excited, but all she wanted to do was run far away. As they were waiting in the concession line, Scout explained to her who the star players were and how the game worked.

“Is anyone a doctor?” A voice shouted from behind, causing Amelia to turn around abruptly. She took her sons hand and went to the person who was seizing on the floor.

“Don’t move, and watch this watch keep track of the time.” She told her son handing him her watch and left him two feet away. She then moved to move the person onto their side, and took off her jacket putting it under the mans head. “I’m Dr Shepherd. Has he ever had a seizure before?” She asked the woman standing beside the man, obviously distraught.

“No, no this is the first time.”

“Heard there’s a seizure?” Amelia’s heart dropped when she heard the voice. He kneeled across from her, and his face visibly dropped registering who was in front of him. The paramedics were standing next to the two with a stretcher ready for the patient, but the seizure had yet to stop.

“Do guys have lorazepam?” Amelia asked, looking at the paramedics instead of Link who had the medical bag.

“Already on it.” Link salty said as he injected the patient with it. After a couple of seconds the seizure ceased.

“How long was that?” Amelia asked looking back to her son.

“5 minutes aaaaaaand 3 seconds.” Scout said as he watched the watch in his hand.

“Alright, this guys gotta get to the hospital.” Amelia said before helping the paramedics ease the man into the stretcher. She then took her sons hand.

“Grey-Sloan right?” Link asked as he walked with them.

“Yeah we’re gonna take him there, are you coming as well Dr Shepherd?” The paramedic asked, Amelia nodded and picked her son up so they could keep up with the fast pace. “What are you doing Dr Lincoln?” The paramedics asked noticing he was following them.

“I was gonna come.”

“No, you’ve gotta stay here. You know in case one of the players get hurt?” The other paramedic said as they loaded into the ambulance.

“Yeah, right.” Link and Amelia held eye contact as the door was shut. He watched the ambulance drive away and sighed, it had been years since he had seen her. He thought lots of times what he’d say if he saw her again, but failed to get the words out.

_______________________________________

“I’m so sorry we missed the game.” Amelia apologized as she walked into the attendings lounge where he was sitting with Maggie.

“It’s okay.” He sighed, leaning into his mother once she sat down on the couch.

“I promise the next game we’ll go, and I’ll try really hard not to save someone’s life.” She chuckled, kissing the top of her sons head.

“I have a question.”

“And I may have an answer.”

“Who was that doctor? He knew what hospital you worked at.”

“Oh my God, Link?” Maggie asked, abruptly turning around while she was pouring her coffee.

“Who’s Link?” Scout asked.

“Link. Is. No. One.” Amelia glared at her sister.

“Right.” Maggie immediately looked down at the floor, embarrassed. “I’m just gonna go now.”

“Now, they won’t be stadium nachos, but want to go get nachos somewhere?”

“Yes please!” Scout smiled jumping up from the couch.

“Let’s get some nachos.” Amelia smiled standing up, Scout went to get his coat on while Amelia opened up her phone and stared at her former boyfriends contact, before shutting her phone off and taking her sons hand as they walked out of the hospital together. Seeing Link today brought up old feelings but she had to remember she had all she needed, her son. She smiled as he squeezed her hand and it reaffirmed her he was all she needed.

#amelia shepherd #amelink #atticus lincoln #greys anatomy #greysanatomy #scout lincoln #maggie pierce #greys fanfic #greys anatomy fanfic #meredith grey

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caesarclowningaround · 3 years

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I was tagged by @flightsofwonder! Thanks dearie!! This was interesting and fun!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Felt With the Heart (MCU, 1123 words) Jane fiddled with the skirt of her dress for the thirtieth time.

The Pure and Simple Truth (MCU/Mr. Robot, 2500 words) Gods and monsters. It’s all real. Who knew? For some reason, Elliot wasn’t at all surprised as he stared across the room at the ‘god’ before him.

Next Stop (Good Omens, 620 words) It wasn’t that Crowley meant to smack his shoulder into the other man’s as he walked through the subway car… but he meant to.

voulez-vous coucher avec moi? (2019!Aladdin/2017!Beauty and the Beast, 1163 words) Adam could have anyone he wanted. This wasn’t just hubris, it was a fact.

Shadows (Trouble in the Heights, 561 words) The room is a swirling mass of color and fabrics.

my happy ending is right next to me (IT movie franchise, 246 words) Richie couldn’t wait to dive into the champagne at the reception.

Baking Without Flour (Good Omens, 961 words) Aziraphale wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he entered Crowley’s apartment, but he at least expected that he’d be unpacked by now.

Violet Skies (2019!Aladdin/2017!Beauty and the Beast, 42622 words (and counting)) Another day, another suitor. This one was from the far west with flowered silks and bright pastels. Prince Adam from France.

Horizon (Star Wars, 1397 words) It was so different than anything Armitage could have imagined. And oh, he had imagined.

the booze and the bell chimes (2019!Aladdin/2017!Beauty and the Beast/2015!Cinderella, 6272 words) 11:00 AM - 6 HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING “BOOTY BOOTY BOOTY BOOTY ROCKIN’ EVERYWHERE” Jafar nearly jumped out of bed, his heart pounding in time with the pounding in his head.

The Dream (MCU/Loki: Where Mischief Lies, 602 words) There is pain as he feels the grip tighten around his throat. He struggles for air, knowing it to be futile at this point. Then, a sharp crack of agony… and he’s gone.

Submerge (Star Wars, 8750 words) His father had warned him many times as a boy to stay away from the Dark Shoals. When Kylo took to the sea as an adult, still his father warned him that morning.

Good at Waiting (2019!Aladdin/2017!Beauty and the Beast, 618 words) Adam wasn’t sure where he was at first. But as the world came into focus around him, he remembered. He remembered dinner the night before, celebrating their six-month anniversary.

Boom, Clap! (Crash Pad/MCU, 12175 words (and counting)) I need to lay off the weed. It certainly wasn’t the first time Stensland had thought this (or even attempted to put the thought into action soon after), much less the first time he had thought it the moment he had woken up from some batshit crazy trippy dream.

The Ocean Under the Moon (2019!Aladdin/They Call Me Jeeg, 1525 words (and counting)) Fabio had a weird, mostly unknown love for thrift stores.

a lil something (2019!Aladdin/2017!Beauty and the Beast, 728 words) Jafar’s phone vibrates in his pocket for the second time in the past ten minutes.

Love is a Battlefield (The Old Guard, 1328 words) There was an excitement in the air as they all stood in formation. Syrus pawed at the ground, his hoof kicking up grass and dust that hung around his legs.

when push comes to shove (2019!Aladdin/Trust, 1371 words) It had started with Jafar grabbing fistfuls of Primo’s ass and a mocking comment about how thin his pants were, which somehow had led to Jafar assuming Primo wasn’t wearing anything under the blue trousers. He assumed correctly.

play us an encore (2019!Aladdin/2017!Beauty and the Beast, 2400 words) “Open your robe.” Jafar didn’t move from where he was standing in the bathroom doorway. Dressed in only his silk red robe, he stared back at Adam, who was smiling in a way that Jafar couldn’t read.

break the bubble (2019!Aladdin/2017!Beauty and the Beast/2015!Cinderella, 1092 words) “Love is like a bomb, baby, c’mon get it on…” The lights flashed as three gorgeous men walked onto the stage, lip synching with the loud lyrics of Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me" playing over the speakers.

Analysis:

First of all, the fact that 11/20 of these are crossovers is pretty telling of what my favorite thing to write is. Most are either Aladdin crossovers or Marvel crossovers (and involve either Jafar or Loki, respectively) so there’s that.

This list goes back about two years, which is interesting because in the past two years I’ve been working on bigger projects most of the time. Notice how most of these fics are under 2k? Most of these started as small fic prompts or 2am spur-of-the-moment ideas and the longer ones are the more self-indulgent fics.

5 of these fics start with a line that’s mostly used to catch a reader’s attention before a tag, which is then followed by a bit of exposition or action. Twice I use song lyrics as a way of grabbing attention because the POV of the character is also having their attention grabbed.

Several times I just jump right into a character’s POV and begin with them thinking about something or essentially telling the reader “what is happening is normal” or “what is happening is not normal” depending on the situation. It’s also sometimes a quick recap or the statement of a fact about our POV character.

Most of the time, I just jump right into the action to get the story moving. I’ve noticed I prefer to do this over giving a description of where we are. If I do give a description, it almost always comes after the opening line. With the exception of Shadows, none of these opening lines are a setting description.

I really do have a thing for crossovers, especially the weird ones LOL I just love the idea of two different worlds connecting in some way and having the characters themselves connect on another level. D*sney’s been crossing over their stuff since well before I was even born, so while it’s not surprising to see a disney crossover fic, I do think there’s something to writing that odd lil ship I’ve written about 7 fics for (dang!)

I tend to deal with themes of forbidden love in various ways and how the characters make those connections despite the fact they shouldn’t be together. Whether it’s as simple as unrequited romance, or they’re enemies, or they’re not necessarily enemies but they really shouldn’t be together... and yet they always find a way. IDK maybe I’m just a romantic at heart who loves seeing love stories about love conquering all. But that being said, the obstacles these characters face aren’t typical ones?? Like, from this list at least, love triangles aren’t something I’m interested in, but if there is a third party (like in Violet Skies) the third party is never really considered to be a “threat” to the main couple.

That’s probably another reason why I dig crossover ships, because they inherently shouldn’t be together. they’re from vastly different worlds with maybe one or two things in common (like genre or setting or a character detail or just a vibe).

Or I’m just here to have fun and I’m dragging these characters into the fun zone whether they like it or not :P

But really, all of these are love stories in some way or another. Not that I’ve never written gen fic and I love reading gen fic! But I guess my fave fics to write are the shippy stuff. I just enjoy exploring these types of relationships, despite whether or not they “should” be together. Heck, a couple of these do not have happy endings nor should they. It’s really interesting seeing exactly how drawn to that stuff I am.

FAVE OPENING LINE This is kind of a weird thing to say, but I really don’t care a lot of my opening lines most of the time. I think they are what they need to be, but they don’t hit me the way they should? Some of these I kinda wish I could go back and change, though that’s mostly cuz out of all the lines in each of these fics the first lines I’ve read and reread the most. So it’s mostly me being my own worst critic, but I think my best writing comes more in the middle and ends of my fics, not the beginnings.

That said, I gotta go with Violet Skies: Another day, another suitor. This one was from the far west with flowered silks and bright pastels. Prince Adam from France.

This is one of those opening lines I’d never change. The fic starts off from Jafar’s POV and he is bored of these princes coming and going and starting this big fic off with him being like “here we go again” with this basic description of Adam is exactly where the fic needed to start, so by the time the reader gets to the end of the first chapter, we know this is definitely not “here we go again” with Prince Adam~

TAGGING: @pigsinablanketfort, @heroofshield, @thenightisfullofangels, @raptorwhisperer, @theresatvjoe, aaaaaaand anybody else who wants to do it!!!!

#my fic #all about me #well that was a lot

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obscure-sentimentalist · 4 years

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73, dealer's choice merlyn boys au, dealer's choice characters

[I’d just like to remind you that you’re the one who made a monster out of this. ;-) And I thank you for it.]

Prompt from the drabble challenge list

Part I to an as-yet-untitled obligatory college AU, which finds our favorite twins meeting a few years earlier than in the Old enough ‘verse. Featuring an appearance by the biggest eyesore of a haircut, and a nod to the fact that Connor Rhodes grew up in Chicago in the ‘90s, and would have attended a very particular Stranger Danger assembly.

Harvard, October 2003

“Um,” Connor starts, politely averting his eyes from the curly-haired brunette making very scant use of his comforter. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“Oh, Tommy,” she sighs, somehow making it sound both scolding and sultry. “Is that any way to accept a surprise?” She shifts on the bed, sheets slipping down even further. “I wasn’t sure where you were in the dorms, but I’d seen you out with your roommate enough to recognize him, and he was more than happy to let me in and leave us be for a while.”

As much as that is to unpack (he’ll really need to have a chat with Charlie about letting in strange girls—or anyone, really—claiming to know and wanting to surprise him), there’s one key part of her explanation that sends Connor’s face into his palms with a beleaguered groan.

Really, this again?

“Okay,” he starts, dragging his hands down his face but still keeping his eyes closed. “I’m going to put this as nicely as I can: I have no idea who you are…”

“I’m Jen,” she cuts in, in a questionably helpful way. Good to put a name to the, uh… face in his dorm-supplied twin bed, but her tone is already heated enough to indicate that this isn’t supposed to be a pleasant reminder.

“Great, Jen, then,” Connor acknowledges, then dives back in. “Please listen when I tell you that I did not know your name until you just told me, because we have never met before now. I have no idea why you think it’s acceptable to sneak into someone’s dorm room as an… unwrapped gift at,” he cracks one eye open to squint at his watch, “3:52 on a Wednesday afternoon, but I’m sure this ‘Tommy’ you think I am won’t particularly appreciate it either.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence at that, and Connor, with his eyes still dutifully closed, can’t get a clear read of the room. Still, he hopes that just maybe this will be the time someone actually listens to him and…

“Ugh, I should have known you were actually that much of a bad-boy jerk,” Jen snaps, violently throwing off the covers entirely as they land with a heavy thump on the floor. There’s hasty shuffling like she’s now out of the bed and throwing her clothes back on, all the while ranting, “Saying that you’re not Tommy, oh, that’s rich. Like I don’t know exactly how you look, and that this is some sort of mistaken identity situation.”

Figuring that this disappointing (yet not surprising) reaction means that Jen is decent enough that it won’t be impolite to do so, Connor’s eyes snap back open. “Because that’s exactly what’s happeni—”

Aaaaaaand there’s the slap.

“If you’re not actually interested, don’t lead a girl on and then act like you don’t know her!” Jen calls angrily as she stomps towards the door. It bangs against the wall as she yanks it open—the vibration sending Connor’s small tower of CDs clattering to the wood floor—and just as violently slams shut upon her departure.

Rubbing his stinging left cheek, Connor finally gives in and drops down to the large area rug with an exasperated exhale, flopping onto his back with the limpness of a dead fish. If this keeps happening, he’s going to have a permanent hand-shaped bruise on his face—that’ll be a barrel of fun to explain.

He gets but a few moments to bemoan this continued streak of inexplicable misfortune by himself, before the latch clicks and the door cracks back open.

“I just got settled into one of the comfiest sections of the common area before I was loudly alerted that I no longer needed to be there,” Charlie greets, snapping his Intro to Psych textbook closed and padding the rest of the way into their room. “You know, that girl has a set of lungs on her. Also, a very extensive vocabulary. Is she a theater major?”

“I think I have an evil twin,” Connor admits feebly, not even bothering to address the question. “One who’s very popular with the ladies, yet somehow makes himself scarce when they come calling. Which means I’m the one who gets my soul sucked out through a passionate lip-lock, or my ass smacked while walking through the Yard, or an unclothed guest in my bed. And subsequently gets slapped for kindly telling them that they have the wrong guy.”

“Sure,” Charlie snorts, disbelieving, as he carefully steps over Connor and plops onto his bed. “This ‘evil twin’ want to own up for running in nothing but boxers past the art museum last Thursday night?”

Connor sits bolt-upright at that. “Wait, you’ve seen him? And he did what?”

That just earns him a pillow swatted to the face. “Dude, if you lost a bet or that was some pre-med hazing ritual, I’m not gonna judge you. I will, though, if you keep pretending that wasn’t you.”

“Because it wasn’t…” Connor starts, highly offended, before he gives up and drops bonelessly back down. “Fine, whatever. Clearly it’s more believable that I’m meeting people and doing things about which I later lie and claim I don’t remember, rather than the increasingly probable doppelgänger theory.”

Charlie just rolls his eyes, yanking his pillow away from Connor’s face and propping it up behind his head as he sinks back on the bed. “Come on, you actually think you’re unlucky enough to have ended up at the exact same college as someone who looks completely identical to you and has a wild social life, the consequences of which have been doled out to you?” He pulls a dubious face. “Seems like a stretch to me.”

Connor just rolls over and screams his frustration into the rug.

. . .

“Okay, your conjecture might hold a little water,” Charlie admits the following Monday, watching the latest woman scorned sashay away, ponytail swinging. “You’re not even taking an Econ class, and wouldn’t have any reason to lie to her about it to get her to study with you.”

“That’s the detail that convinced you?” Connor grits out, trying very hard to remain upright (if doubled-over) and not topple to the ground in agony. People are already staring with varying degrees of curiosity and unadulterated amusement—no need to further draw their attention. “Not the fact that she called me by a completely different name?”

Charlie just shrugs, patting Connor pityingly on the back before looping one arm around him to help out. “People make mistakes. And how am I to know that you don’t moonlight under a fake name to pick up girls?”

“Exactly what is your understanding of me as a person?” Connor asks, utterly dumbfounded by the suggestion as the two of them carefully stagger down the sidewalk. Hysteria rising to distract from the pain, he cries, “I have spent the last three weekends studying at the library! I don’t even have my own college social life, and certainly not one built entirely on lies under an alias like ‘Tommy’!”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You do seem like a guy who’d enjoy a relationship where he regularly gets his ass handed to him, and, well, that’s a viable method for testing those waters.”

“You are a terrible, terrible friend,” is all Connor manages to groan back, refusing to acknowledge how close to target that assessment hits.

. . .

Having endured nearly two full months of painful cases of mistaken identity and no sign of the elusive Econ course-taking, multiple romantic interest-making “Tommy,” Connor has fully accepted that this is to be his campus life moving forward. He still tries—futile as it’s proven time and again—to explain each time that he’s not the boy they’re looking for, if only because it’s the polite thing to do.

(Others’ responses to the revelation, on the other hand, have yet to meet him halfway on that front.)

It would make sense, at this point, to actively start seeking out this apparent look-alike, but even with leads like a first name and enrollment in an intro-level economics course, that’s still too broad a suspect pool. Much as the mystery gnaws at him (and results in various slaps, tellings-off, strikes to more vulnerable parts…), Connor can’t justify putting his already limited free time towards tracking someone down for the sole purpose of proving their existence.

And so, he’s contented—in a very loose sense of the word—himself simply with the knowledge that he has a double somewhere on the Harvard campus, and instead focused his efforts on excelling in this next quarter’s classes.

This goal is what finds him tucked away in the undergraduate library the night before Halloween, bent over books and notepad with an unnecessary sort of concentration for the silence and lack of students in the immediate area. Thursdays usually brought in a decent-sized crowd for a pre-weekend night, but this time, it seems like most are out getting a start on the holiday.

The particular combination of focus and quiet is what alerts Connor so pointedly to the shuffle of feet down one of the aisles to his right, then the sudden halt and hushed backtrack. Whoever else is haunting the stacks tonight seems to be startled to find Connor as well, and isn’t being discreet about how he’s drawn their attention, if the eyes boring into his turned-down skull are any indication.

“Can I help you?” Connor finally prompts, not looking up but speaking clearly enough to address the lurker directly. “Or can we both just go about our evenings without bothering each oth—”

“Yeah, actually,” a male voice interrupts, moving closer with the footsteps until their owner yanks back the chair directly opposite Connor’s and plunks down. He audibly hedges a moment, before amending, “Well, more like I can help you.”

“You don’t say,” Connor says dryly, finally giving his uninvited guest a pointed look up from his books. Doing so reveals a sandy blond-haired guy with what has to be the sleaziest haircut for someone their age, and an expression that wouldn’t look out-of-place on a true crime documentary.

“You’re… Connor, aren’t you?” he starts, smiling in a way that he must think is friendly (or akin enough to it, since he doesn’t seem all that thrilled about this meeting either).

Before he can think better of it, Connor huffs out a bitter laugh at that. “Wow, first time a stranger’s actually called me by that name,” he notes, before making a point of turning back to his work and away from the conversation.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t dissuade the other guy—who Connor feels inclined to call Serial Killer Haircut, given his questionable style and mannerisms. “So it’s been happening to you, too.”

That sufficiently draws Connor’s attention back, almost fast enough to give him whiplash from jerking his head up. Probably not the best move, he realizes after a moment, as it’s given too much away, and there isn’t anything close to a resemblance between the two of them.

The dubiety must be sharp on Connor’s face, as Serial Killer Haircut backs up. “No, no, I’m not… it’s my best friend.” His face falls a bit at that, eyes canting to the side with a rising uncertainty—reluctance, even. It lasts for one extended moment, before he finally turns back to Connor and sighs, “And after seeing you… I think you need to meet each other.”

Well, this has certainly taken a turn.

“That uncanny, huh?” Connor murmurs, finally accepting that he’s not getting any more work done until this is over and snapping his textbook closed to give Serial Killer Haircut his full investment in this matter. The guy still skeeves him out a bit—certainly enough that, under any other circumstances, Connor would be throwing his wallet one way and running the other direction—but that hesitation says something about the sincerity of the claim. If this is a prank, there’d be no reason for the blond to sound like making the claim to Connor is the last thing he personally wants to do, but knows it’s the right thing.

Serial Killer Haircut laughs weakly, ducking his head as he gives it a small shake. “I’ve honestly known him my entire life. Even though I knew where he was, when I first walked by,” he lifts his head back up and leans back in the chair, giving Connor a quick once-over, “you actually got me for a second.”

“The fact that you figured it out sets you apart from everyone else.” Connor’s feeling just generous enough to give Serial Killer Haircut that point. “What gave me away?”

“Besides the fact that you must be enough of a nerd to be the only one studying here?” He cracks a grin that’s more than a little sharp and mean—almost like it’s a last-minute reminder to both Connor and himself that they’re not friends—but after a moment, his shoulders drop into an easy shrug. “I don’t know, I just… could tell the difference.”

Connor’s expression sours at the jab, and the unclear explanation only earns a flat hum of acknowledgement. They’ve reached something of a standstill here, and Serial Killer Haircut is starting to wear out his welcome, but Connor doesn’t want to lose this one solid lead to the elusive “Tommy.”

“Well, could you tell me how I can get in contact with him?” Connor finally prompts, reaching for his notebook and pen to jot the information down. The sooner he gets it, the sooner the two of them will be out of the other’s (in certain cases, humanity-affronting) hair. “That way we can find a time to meet up, if he wants to.”

Connor glances up just in time to catch Serial Killer Haircut looking at him as if Connor’s the one who should be posing for a mugshot.

“He was already supposed to meet me after I, uh, found something I thought I left in the stacks earlier, and we were going to go for some pizza,” Serial Killer Haircut admits. “If I don’t bring you with and Tommy finds out I met you, I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning duct-taped to our dorm room ceiling or something.”

Connor finds himself unable to do anything but sputter at that, glancing frantically at the pile of study materials in front of him before managing a strangled “Now?”

As desperately as he now wants the answers that have been teased—as to exactly how similar he looks to Tommy, what that means, why Tommy has so many women looking to slap the living daylights out of him—going from concrete confirmation of Tommy’s existence to actually meeting him is a big jump in such a short time. This is not how Connor expected to be spending his evening.

Alas, Serial Killer Haircut shows no empathy for Connor’s plight (but that was a long-shot, anyway). “It’s not like you have anything better to do—and no, the studying doesn’t count,” he clarifies, glaring at the books before Connor can say anything. “I refuse to be duct tape-waxed—again—when you could have prevented it from happening.”

Tempting as it may be to leave Serial Killer Haircut to his fate, Connor figures that it’s probably better to keep their relationship at a thus-far mild dislike rather than accelerating straight for enemy territory. He gets the impression that the other guy could easily live up to his nickname if pushed the wrong way.

“You’d think I’d know better by now than to be enticed into heading to a secondary location,” Connor cracks as he finally gives in and shoves his books into his bag.

“What?” There’s that look again, the pot calling the kettle certifiable, yet Serial Killer Haircut still gets up from the table and waits for Connor to finish gathering his things.

Connor waves it off, slinging his bag over his shoulder and following the blond out towards the exit.

Time to see if those answers are worth bucking the rules of street smarts.

. . .

The payoff starts to roll out the second they step outside the library and into the late fall air, when another figure falls into step on Serial Killer Haircut’s other side and exaggeratedly bumps shoulders with him.

“You took your time,” the newcomer greets, and Connor almost trips over his own feet at the voice. That sounds a little too familiar to his ears, as if it should be originating from his own throat.

Serial Killer Haircut sighs, turning his head and angling his body in just a way that it blocks Connor’s view of Tommy (because that’s surely Tommy) and vice-versa. “I got held up,” he says, and instead of leading into the promised introduction with which he’d persuaded Connor to come along, he just… leaves it at that.

Alright, that’s strike one for Connor going against his better judgement and trusting this guy.

“‘Held up’, huh?” Tommy asks, definitely not buying into the explanation. “Who’s even here the night before Halloween?”

Connor most certainly doesn’t miss the scheming glance Serial Killer Haircut gives him out of the corner of his eye before replying, “You know pre-meds. No social life whatsoever, so they take to hiding out in the library.”

Strike two.

Given Serial Killer Haircut’s mean streak and the claim that he’d known Tommy since birth, Connor braces himself for a returning dig from his unseen doppelgänger. He almost stumbles in surprise again, though, when there instead comes a pitiful groan.

“Yes, I now know more pre-meds than I should, all because they keep accosting me and calling me ‘Connor’ and asking for lab notes that I don’t have and wanting to walk with me to lectures I’m not taking,” Tommy rattles off, voice going tight from the lack of air between words, yet heat never seeps into his tone. He finally gulps in a breath, only to immediately jump back in. “And it… I don’t know, kind of makes me jealous? That there are people out there thinking I’m someone else, and who actually want to find him because he’s great at something, and I ju-…”

The word snaps off so suddenly that Connor unconsciously screeches to a halt in order to crane his head around Serial Killer Hair—disregarding whatever game he’s playing with acting as a human blinder—and find out what interrupted Tommy.

It’s a pretty clear answer when Connor turns to find that Serial Killer Hair has his head tossed back, cackling, a few yards behind them, and Tommy is staring straight at Connor with an utterly dumbstruck expression.

One that Connor is certain that he now mirrors exactly, because there’s looking pretty similar to someone, and then there’s being identical.

“Well,” he starts weakly, looking Tommy straight in the eye, “I can assure you, you’ve been in high demand too.”

#obscure-sentimentalist writes sometimes #connor rhodes #tommy merlyn #merlyn boys #ft. asshole Ollie Queen #oh so it turns out that if you make ANY sort of edit after you've already slotted in a Read More #it completely throws off the placement and puts the ENTIRE response under the Read More instead of breaking off where it was intended to #sorry about that folks

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crystalsexarch · 4 years

Text

Fade - E

“You are spectacular,” the Garlean said, wiping her forehead with her arm.

“And you...more skilled than I ever would have imagined.”

Explicit. Ambiguous female WoL. Lucia spies Aymeric and the Warrior of Light engaging in some manner of tussle, and thus tussles with her own romantic feelings...in a similarly physical way.

Aaaaaaand I definitely added a second part where the inverse happens as well.

Also on AO3.

Part of the 2020 FFXIV Writing Challenge

Aymeric spoke of you often, and he didn’t always use your name. But Lucia knew. She could read between the lines and pretend to be illiterate. For his sake. For her sake. For yours.

Some days her commander might stare at a dreary, cloud-covered sky and invite all the world’s sunlight into his eyes, saying something like “Oh, what a beautiful day!” Or perhaps a bumbling recruit would shuffle into the room with a sloppy stack of reports and neglected paperwork, only for Aymeric to sigh like the happy sap at the center of a satirical tract on optimism. “Ah, well it seems I’ll be getting home late after all!” With you at his beck and call, the star itself was in on his jokes, and there were no coincidences.

Make no mistake. The sour taste in Lucia’s mouth came not from you drawing her lord’s attention. Rather, she wished that she had drawn your gaze instead.

Aymeric was a logical choice. More than fair. Handsome, powerful, charming, and—perhaps most importantly—a man of character. After all, his integrity had drawn the Garlean to him in the first place. Bitterness aside, she was happy to serve him, honored to bow at his command, proud to have earned his trust…

Hollow at having broken it. Even in some trivial way.

Neither you nor Aymeric must have known Lucia lingered at the Congregation. Instead of accompanying her commander, she had volunteered to shore up a short-staffed infirmary with her limited medical knowledge and helping hands. Luckily, you were in Ishgard and more than capable of seeing to Ser Aymeric’s needs. And see to them you did.

She was making for the exit when she caught your croon. When your croon caught her. These sounds were forbidden, she thought, even as she held her breath to better hear them. You sounded gentler than she’d imagined. Softer. Not always a Warrior, then, but a pliant, focused lover as well. With her eyes drifting closed, it wasn’t hard to imagine those sounds rising from between her thighs instead of wafting from behind his wooden door. Not hard to imagine at all—too easy, in fact, to see you lifting your head with lust, finding out how many fingers you could fit inside before Lucia started crooning, too.

I must go, she thought, flattening her palm over her stomach. But she did not go anywhere but closer to her commander’s door, where she knelt—not for him this time, but for the keyhole.

You were half dressed and wholly spread across the desk. Aymeric, so professional, so put together, was making your breasts bounce so dutifully he should’ve been getting paid for it. What he was giving you looked thick. Equal parts pain and pleasure, begetting pleasure. And it painted something unforgettable on your face: an expression your watcher would’ve spent the rest of her days trying to recreate, if you would only make the offer.

Something stirred within her. Kept her stationary even as Aymeric’s hot lips whispered in your ear and you pulled him closer, tangling your arms and legs around him like vines. The voyeur’s heart was pounding. She could feel it in her fingertips. In her legs. Deeper. He was coming and she sat there watching until he had emptied himself entirely, emptied himself in you—the Warrior of Light. Ishgard’s savior and her own commander. She watched until he groaned and bucked twice, thrice, still seeking the carnal light you’d granted him, glistening in the holy water of sweat drawn forth in your image. Anointed. Blessed, as a sinner watched with her mouth wide open.

Lucia shook her head and rose. I must go. And this time she meant it. I shouldn’t have stayed in the first place.

In her quarters, she did exactly what you would expect. When she finally curled upon her bed wearing only a sheer nightgown and no smallclothes, her fingers couldn’t do what she wanted them to do, what her body needed them to do. How could she? Yes, your face had fueled her intimate thoughts before, but now she knew. Imagination ceded to memory. She had learned things she couldn’t forget. Things that would have her burning through her clothing if she didn’t douse the fire.

With upturned eyebrows, she sighed and let her hand hang between her legs. It wouldn’t take long. Just a touch or two, at most. By then, if she wanted to keep going, pleasure would have rotted the parts of her brain telling her to chastise herself and sleep the flames away. “Forgive me,” she said. But who would forgive her? You? The Fury? Aymeric? Herself?

When her fingers finally hit, they hit right. She crumpled over on the bed and rubbed herself madly over the edge. It was fast and full, the kind of orgasm she’d had with her first woman. And when her center stopped pulsing, she sat at another precipice; the fire was out, but a dutiful guardian would watch the embers fade as well, lest new flames arise from what she had worked to extinguish.

It seemed contradictory to continue touching herself, bent on tempering her heart against you. Sensation, though, was known for its ability to numb. A tool in the fight of body versus mind. Loneliness had turned to lust. Now in the forge of her feelings, she would strike the ugly, bitter metals into straight and stoic bars, strike them by bending her middle finger over her clit and telling herself that getting over you was as easy as getting off.

Aymeric could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Seeing. Feeling in his loins. The infirmary was supposed to be empty. His was an era of peace. And yet creaking wood had called him from his office to the second floor of the Congregation, where light filtered from a room at the end of the hall. Late as it was, he had minutes to spare before heading back to the manor—minutes he had expected to spend blowing out a candle, not staring wide-eyed at the Warrior of Light riding his second-in-command.

They must not have seen him. By the Fury he hoped they hadn’t seen him, because he had no immediate intention of walking away.

The Warrior, completely naked spare the stockings that hugged her supple thighs, had her hands clamped around the headboard, her eyes shut hard, her eyebrows knitted. Aymeric recognized Lucia by tufts of sweaty blonde hair plastered on the pillow. She was gripping the Warrior’s ass with gusto, apparently laboring at her lips with just as much fervor. The fingers would leave marks. Possibly bruises. They’d certainly left a mental impression on Aymeric.

How long have they been…?

While he rattled through the past few weeks, he paid no attention to the hand creeping to the erection threatening to tent his robes. At first touch, it felt like relief, not violation. A piercing voice reminded him he was watching something private through a door his friends had most likely left open on accident. He snapped both hands behind his back and held.

“Lucia…” the Warrior said, tensing her thighs and rocking faster. “I’m...I’m close.”

A husky voice replied. “Let me up. Let me show you something.”

The Warrior collapsed onto her back. The Garlean soon loomed over her and showered hot kisses down her body, her blushing breasts, until meeting her center again, green eyes lit with fiery lust. Aymeric spied her index and middle fingers curling together. She plunged them inside the Warrior, gently first, then with fury. The Warrior arched her back and shook, gave into expert ministrations, until finally she twitched her hips off the bed and melted into a puddle of her own liquid pleasure.

Lucia slowed her pace and sucked the Warrior’s clit until both of them started laughing. “You are spectacular,” the Garlean said, wiping her forehead with her arm.

“And you...more skilled than I ever would have imagined.”

Aymeric’s mind caught up with him...but not entirely. Thinking only of escape, not stealth, he plodded back down the hallway and descended the stairs like an entire army. The brisk outside air did little to cool his disposition.

By the time his bath was ready, he had listed a thousand reasons he should let himself soften and forget. Each time he remembered the heavenly curve of the Warrior’s ass, those reasons softened instead.

With Lucia…? Am I completely oblivious?

Oh, but lust could fill his questions with meaningless answers just long enough to get what it wanted. And it wanted to come.

With hot water at his back, he leaned on the tub and beat himself, full of weeping envy. He would give everything to taste what she had tasted. Fill what she had filled. Now, legs shaking, he filled nothing but his own palm, wondering if he’d be wondering about that flavor for the rest of his life.

#lucia #aymeric #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv fanfic #ff14 fanfic #mywriting

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tarmairons · 5 years

Text

aaaaaaand here’s part 2 of the extensive (book & netflix) masterpost of all my fave eslaf moments!!!! again, fair warning, this is a very long post

[part 1]

i wish i could have done all this in one part but i hit a size limit oops

NOW ONTO SEASON 3!!! which was a nightmare but i’ll try to pretend it wasn’t for the sake of this post

to begin: the constant endearments in the book (and the show... “darling dearest dreamboat” damn esmé) have me losing my wholeass mind like

next up we have the indisputable fact that they f*cked in the tent on mount fraught. my proof is that they shared a tent and it was cold and so they had to generate heat. thank you

and then another instance of their shared brain cell evaporating

olaf being super proud of scoring the world’s hottest girlfriend and bragging to his parental figures is surprisingly wholesome

aaaand their brain cell is still missing in action

it’s very very cute how olaf obviously has zero artistic talent but esmé is always out there looking at him putting on a show like he’s the most amazing actor alive

and next on the list of scenes we were robbed of: p h y s i c a l a f f e c t i o n

but at least the most important line, that is:

was included:

so i won’t torch netflix hq just yet!!!! oh but WAIT they cut this next part, so i might change my mind about the arson after all

and also this line ???? ugh they’re disgusting i love them

and then this whole entire scene of olaf being so proud of his murderous gf was. beautiful. spectacular. legendary

and then someone pointed out that their hug looks like that draco/voldemort hug and it’s TRUE but i’m still gonna include it bc netflix is eslafphobic and i’m clinging to scraps here

this next line isn’t an eslaf scene but the phrasing is sending me shddhhdjsh

ok submarine time!!!! aka netflix making the sugar bowl esmé’s priority whereas in the book it is olaf’s as well AND netflix making it look like olaf was against carmelita joining them whereas it was his idea in the book… so basically all the reasons they fight in the show are unsubstantiated but go off i guess

very grateful for this Old Married Couple Bickering tho

and i know this whole scene is very problematic and talked about profusely on tumblr dot com but i’m including this screencap bc it’s soft how esmé considers them all a family

and Oh Wait olaf does too i’m melting

it’s like in TPP they wrote him bitching about “pretending to be a family” but he didn’t have any issues with it earlier, he just ran with it when esmé called carmelita their daughter

and was like “i know” ok netflix so why have him complain about it later on smh… he’s clearly not THAT mad about it, like:

next up!!! i’m a big fan of them disagreeing over something…

…and then 0.5 seconds later they’re getting along again:

^ that is the essence of their relationship

and now back to the topic of olaf not being annoyed at esmé’s Fashion Diva moments:

see he’s lowkey impressed ok

i’m now realizing that 99% of my alleged fave eslaf scenes from s3 are just me complaining about how the books are superior but ok

anyway this next scene deserves an emmy. give lucy an emmy for the delivery of “BUT DARLING”

and this is also soft bc olaf is like :/ and then esmé says something and he turns to her and is like :) so that always has me on the floor in tears

out of context this sentence is wild but like… netflix back at it again with robbing us of all the affectionate scenes huh

and here’s another instance of Couples Scheming being a fun activity to do together

and then we have their joint brain cell screaming for help but it’s adorable so

and then they go off to f*ck again

next up this whole beach scene is just more old married couple behavior and i absolutely adore it

and then we have Bonding Over Arson ~just couple things~

the fact that as the series progresses they go from “count olaf’s gf” to “esmé squalor’s bf” is legendary

and now this isn’t really a fave scene per se BUT considering the mess netflix made of the breakup i have to give a shoutout to the book version bc in comparison to the show version it’s.. beautiful how Mutual Agreement it is

but yeah lucy is spectacular here and it adds fuel to the Esmé Did Have Feelings For Olaf Because Otherwise She Wouldn’t Be Crying fire, which is great for me bc i love my otps with a side of angst

and of course netflix confirmed that esmé squalor, the city’s sixth most important financial advisor, has a daddy kink, so that’s incredible

you may think i’m done bc they broke up but no

here we have them a millisecond away from murdering each other but they’ll still take time out of their busy schedules to menacingly glare at children together. a spiritual bond that no breakup can destroy

but the real gem is the massive horny on main energy in the opera flashback (which was awful, but horny, so i have mixed feelings)

subtle, esmé

you too olaf, good job

and ofc it’s [luciana voice] imperative to remember that in the book esmé was out there trying to stop the premeditated murder of olaf’s parents so that’s nice of her

and last but not least the only valid s3 scene aside from esmé menacing the kids in the burned vfd headquarters:

sexy noir aesthetic fire escape rendezvous that ignited a revenge scheme spanning decades. if that’s not peak romance idk what is

and not to be controversial but i’m gonna drop this here anyway

ever since i read the end a billion years ago i always used to think olaf meant kit in this scene but like ?????? over the past few months i’ve been thinking, what if he meant esmé?? i mean, nothing directly negates that possibility, the books are so ambiguous and so open to interpretation that i might as well twist them to fit my headcanons, as we all do, so why tf not

and i’m gonna add some final Thoughts and Opinions in case i get more anons asking why i ship eslaf even though they’re constantly bickering &/or about to Snap and kill each other:

i’m hopelessly weak for villainous ‘us against the world’ power couples and it’s like.. even though in the series they ultimately have different end goals, they have a great time being awful people together along the way and that’s all that matters, that familiarity and mutual understanding between them. neither of them ever tried to change the other, they’re both garbage people and that’s why they get along, and what makes them so compatible

and while i’m still hesitant to use the word ‘love’ in regard to their relationship bc it just doesn’t feel Right to me (i know there’s people out there who feel otherwise but i’m still meh about it), i don’t doubt that they had feelings for each other deep down, even if they didn’t always outwardly express them

so that’s my massive essay with so much source evidence that tumblr made me divide it into 2 separate posts thank you for your attention i need a vacation from tumblr now bc this took me HOURS

#a series of unfortunate events #asoue #eslaf

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blind-royal-guardian · 6 years

Text

A New Path: Chapter Three- Feeling The Burn part one

Gladio had hit the call button on his phone almost instantly once he had ended his call with Prompto. For the Love of the Six, with one ring the phone was answered, the answering machine time forgot seemed to still be in perfect working order as he listened and hit the corresponding extension numbers. He was already down a few flights before an actual person answered the phone.

“Yes, This is Gladiolus Amicitia i need a report on all Crownsguard that have passed within the last three days.” Silently he kept his fingers crossed as he was transferred once again. He knew his phone was being processed but since it was property of the Crown City and registered he knew he wouldn’t have to go through the long process of acquiring the clearance to the information he wanted. The ‘Information requested has been delivered to your device’ automated voice was cut into with his phones message notification tone. Gladio ended the call stopping on the next floor as he pulled up the report and did a quick swiping scan over the names. He almost had a heart attack at a ‘Ivan Scentai’ he had read over too fast in the small print. Forcing his heart out of his throat he shut his phone off returning it to his pocket.

Taking a deep breath he was relieved one of his suspicions wasn’t true. So the Strategist was still alive for now because gladio wanted to ring him for this moment. Regaining his composure he finished his journey down the stairs.

Prompto scrolled through the same list having done exactly what Gladio had, after Iris put the thought in his head that Iggy had maybe somehow died from his injuries. He hadn’t actually gotten to talk with Ignis since they all were packed into the van and taken to the Hospital for their injuries. He had been the longest in since his surgery involved a longer stay, and with everything still limited no visitors were allowed to keep the infection rate down. He sighed in relief not seeing ‘Ignis’ or ‘Scientia’ anywhere on the list. He tucked his phone away feeling somewhat better about things, leaning forward he rested his head in his hands. Iggy was still alive which was fantastic news amongst the confusion, but he really could have gone without the mild panic attack.

“Next time you try and kill me with my Anxiety...could you not.” Prompto said looking over at Iris before leaning back into the seat scrubbing his face with both of his hands.

“I’m sorry, it was just a thought with the way Gladdy was acting.” Iris apologized feeling rather bad about saying it and watching Prompto turn about as pale as he had been when he first sat down in the car.

It wasn’t long before Gladio sat himself back in the backseat of the car.

“So He’s alive because I phoned in for a report but now what? Why Would he just move and not say anything?” Prompto said looking back to Gladio wondering what information he could think of. “Wait… You don’t think?” Prompto trailed off before rubbing the hairs on his chin a habit he had picked up since he decided to let a beard grow.

“Think What? Don’t stop mid sentence like that.” Gladio informed sitting forward incase Prompto went into one of his half coherent formulations of his thoughts.

He counted the thoughts he had by talking with his hands as he laid out his idea. “That, He’s the One the council has chosen. One, He was basically Noctis Right hand, Two, A Royal Advisor he knows how all this Royalty BS works. Aaaaaaand Three, He did put that ring on and did not Die from it.”

Gladio sat back in the seat and looked out the window then back to Prompto. “That still doesn’t explain why we can’t get ahold of him.” He reluctantly said, as what the blond gunmen had said would make the most since.

“Well, No...But… It gives us a place to start looking for him.” Prompto informed.

“To the Castle then.” Gladio said as his Sister gave a nod throwing the car in gear and heading for the location.

It would be another fifteen minutes before their car pulled into the gates that surrounded the building. Prompto leaned forward eyeing the few people setting up scaffolds to repair the parts of the building that were burned and or missing large sections. Funny how the place looked so foreign to him now.

The last time he was here he remembered the sun cutting over the horizon, lighting up the stone work as the deamons backed away into the shadows. An overwhelming peace taking over him as he basically clung onto Ignis to stay standing with his thrown out knee and moderate bleeding from the busted blade in his chest. Gladio was on his knees with his shield weighing down his arm as the other was in bad shape. Ignis was standing somehow, bloody and broken. If the Sun had waited a few more minutes he was sure they all would have been dead.

Iris pulled the car up to the curb leaving the motor running. “Well when you need a ride back call me ok, Gladdy?”

“We will most definitely call you sis.” He said before stepping out of the car.

“Thanks for the Ride Iris.” Prompto pushing open his door after she gave him a nod and a smile. Awkwardly he condinated his legs out of the car and stood as a fire shot down his heel. Hanging onto the vehicle for a second to let the pain pass he damned himself for thinking it was a good idea to go without the brace. Oh this day is going to just get better, he thought shutting the door and looking at Hell.

Quite literally hell sprawled out in a hundred and eighty degrees of pure torture and three flights of them. Yeah he should have taken the pills and wore the brace, mentally reprimanding himself again he tried to psych himself up. He could do this, even if he wasn’t going to be worth anything once at the top.

“We’ll take it slow, just don’t pull my broken arm and i’ll assist you.” Gladio informed.

“Thanks for the offer, but i have to do this myself at least a little bit.” Prompto informed headed for the first steps.

“If you say so.” Gladio followed along side. “I’ll never understand why you always push yourself beyond a limit.”

“Just how I roll.” Diverting his path to the railings that headed up the stone steps he questioned his life choices. He could easily just let gladio go alone to see if Ignis was in the building at all first.

Gladio kept himself one step behind his shorter friend letting him tear himself up as they made it one step after agonising step. He could only image the pain the gunmen was going through, he had thrown a knee out once but nowhere close to this level and he felt like he was dying just trying to sleep let alone walk up flights of stairs.

Eventually after a great many painful steps, they made it to the top winded and with tears of pain threatening to fall. Prompto would have been rather proud of himself in making it this far, if he could process much past ‘Breath and don’t pass out’. It was like Ifrit had taken up residence in between the bones in his knee.

“If you pass out fall forward.” Gladio informed keeping his hand hovering just behind Prompto's’ back incase he should fall it wouldn’t be backwards down the stairs.

“I-i’m ok just...give me a minute.” Prompto tiredly motioned with his hand.

“Only you can say that looking like death warmed over. Are you going to be able to walk once you let go of that railing?” Gladio questioned it the way he favored the injury, but he also hadn’t ever seen the blond quit at anything.

“I can’t think that far ahead at this moment, there is a nuclear explosion going on in my Kneeeeee.” He half growled the last part attempting to ride the muscle spasm that set in.

“You think it hurts now, tomorrow is going to be hell for you.” Gladio informed as a moving body caught his attention bring his head around.

“Hey, I didn’t think I would see you two up here. Shouldn’t you be home recovering? I heard about your injuries.” A rather familiar face said. “Here let me help.”

“Talcott? Wha… Why are you here?” Prompto said having his arm lifted and put over the younger mans shoulders.

#post ffxv story #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv #prompto argentum #prompto #ignis scientia #ignis #gladio amicitia #gladiolus amicitia #gladio #iris amicitia #fanfiction #a new path #talcott hester #blindroyalgaurdian #feeling the burn

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imababblekat · 6 years

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Request Are Open!!

Y’all saw it, y’all read it! Yep, that’s right! Request are once again open!!

However, I must note that while I am mostly notreally a multi fandom blog, I am sad to say that I will no longer be taking request for Undertale. I have no problems with the fandom or the game itself, I’ve just sort of fallen out of it. I still like it all of course, and will like others post/imagines for UT, but as for me, I just don’t care to really write for it anymore. So, big apology to those of you who were here specifically for Undertale. Perhaps I’ll get back on the adorable, pixelated monster train in the future, but for now it’s a no go. Any writing I do have on here for UT though will stay, so no fear in those being gone!

Alrighty, now onto the main part here. Request are, once again, open! They will be open from here to the 25th of June(10pm CDT)! So go forth! Throw whatever your mind can come up with, whatever your mind shall question and desire, into the ask box!! Just be sure to read the rules first, ofc!!

Rules And Fandom List Below Cut!

Rules:

Request Types

-Scenario (form of a short story/drabble imagine) -Headcannons (form of imagine hc list)

1-2 characters per drabble, 1-3 characters per imagine/imagine list

No NSFW

I’ll do angst depending on what it is you’re requesting

no cheating request(might change my mind on it later, but for now its a no go)

if you want the reader to be gendered or non-specified please let me know. I’d hate to mess things up by assuming, so please, please let me know if you have a preference!!

I don’t do match-ups! (hun, I can’t even match myself up in the real world ;-;)

I will not write for certain mental disabilities/disorders(ie, autism, DID, schizophrenia, etc). I don’t have anything against people with these, I simply am not confident in myself writing about them.

I will NOT write anything about suicide. Again, not that I have anything against people who have been through this or have been affected by it, it’s just that I have been and simply wish not to write it.

Dem’s is the rules! Now on to the fandom list!!

Fandom List:

Markiplier Ego’s/ Other Ego’s

Darkiplier

Wilford Warfstache

Googleplier

Yandereplier

Antisepticeye

Transformers Animated(TFA):

Majority

(I’ll let you know if theres one I don’t write for, but I’ll practically write for any)

Transformers Prime:

Optimus Prime

Ratchet

Arcee

Bulkhead

Bumblebee

Smokescreen

Cliffjumper

Wheeljack

Megatron

Starscream

Breakdown

Knockout

Soundwave

Dreadwing

Arachnid

Transformer MTMTE:

Rodimus

Drift

Rung

Ratchet

Ultra Magnus

Chromedome

Cyclonus

Whirl

Swerve

Rewind

Tailgate

Skids

Brainstorm

Aaaaaaand that’s about it! Have a nice day/evening/night everyone!!

#important #important notes #request are open #ask box is open #imagines #drabbles #headcannons #transformers animated #Transformers Prime #Transformers MTMTE #maccadam #Ego Imagines #YouTuber Egos #Wilford Warfstache #Darkiplier #google IRL #antisepticeye #yandereplier

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zeltricstudio · 3 years

Text

'LUNCH TIME SPECIAL'

HAPPYVILE

MARCH 2014

Happyvile High has been without a chef for an awfully long time but finally managed to hire someone. Abraham Cook, despite his family’s reputation he was a competent cook and could actually make some decent meals for the students. It was around this time that students started to go missing. At first it was 1 student a month, then a couple before eventually the school looked into it. Of course, the teachers and police did nothing to investigate the matter, instead just saying “they ran away” or “ditched school”. Sarah, however was not happy with how poorly this was being dealt with. Many students would simply shrug their shoulders, but not her. “The special for today is lasagna” Sarah scoffs. “How can they just go on and not give a damn that students are disappearing almost on a weekly basis?” Sarah asked, feeling angry.

“I’m sure the police are doing everything they can” Sarah’s best friend, Jessica, replied, not paying much attention except for the food in front of her.

“You should eat, all this pointless wondering is going to make you hungry” Jessica moved her food towards Sarah

“Hell no. For all I know, they probably put their disgusting, unwashed hand in that food before they served it” Sarah replied, pushing the food back to Jessica.

“As long as it tastes good, I don’t mind”

“Your standards are very low”

“Eh” Jessica said and continued digging into her food.

“Fuck it. If the teachers and police are not going to do anything, then I will” Sarah said with extreme confidence

“What are you going to do?” Jessica asked, not seriously

“I… I don’t know” Sarah replied, slinking back into her seat.

“Again, just let it go. I’m sure they will all turn up eventually, probably” Jessica replied with a mouthful.

That night, Sarah couldn’t stop thinking about the missing people. Sarah had read all papers and news reports about the disappearances, but they were all the same, ‘this student was staying late and never returned home. Parents didn’t find out till the next morning and no one saw a thing’. Personally, Sarah didn’t much care for the students as all of them were the absolute worst but the latest victim Kate was a close classmate she really liked and was baffled at how little her own teachers cared about a Grade-A kid. Sarah began documenting all the missing kids, but she couldn’t find a pattern due to how little the police cared. Some kids were not even reported missing until weeks later. Feeling defeated for the night, Sarah went to bed.

The next morning, during their lunch break, Sarah decided to buy a drink. It wasn’t until now that Sarah got an up-close look at Abraham. Like most of the males, he was very tall and noticeably huge. Not fat, but very built. He had an untrimmed beard that had little strands sticking upright, his eyes had bags underneath bags underneath bags and his skin was covered in bruises and scars all around. Despite his bodily appearance, he was surprisingly clean. His apron, clothes and even body odor were insanely neat and smelt like he dumped a load of perfume onto himself. After Sarah bought her drink, she went and sat down next to Jessica.

“I’ve noticed something” Sarah immediately said as he sat down.

“Aaaaaaand her comes the conspiracy theories” Jessica said, not even phased.

“Abraham is insanely clean”

“Well yeah. I know Happyvile isn’t the cleanest place, but we gotta have SOME standards”

“No, I mean like he is overly clean. Like not even a dirt or smudge anywhere, his clothes are pure white”

“Maybe he is a clean freak? Oddly, the dirtiest people are the cleanest”

“Perhaps. I just have an off feeling about him”

“You have an off feeling about everyone”

“That’s not true” Sarah points to Jessica

“Fair point. How’s your investigation coming along?” Jessica pondered, not really caring

“I got nowhere. This town’s not-giving-a-shit makes it almost impossible to even find out when they went missing”

“Uh-huh”

“What are you eating?”

“Spaghetti. It’s the new Lunch special” Jessica said, with added fake enthusiasm

“I still don’t know how you can eat that. It doesn’t even look like spaghetti”

“Maybe it’s a family recipe. Do I care? Nope” Jessica said and continued eating.

As the two continued chatting, they were approached by a classmate of theirs

“Have any of you two seen Adrian?” Sally asked

“Uh no, he was absent from first and second period” Sarah replied

“I haven’t heard from him since yesterday. If you do see him, please let me know” Sally said and walked off to a nearby table and asking them.

“Here we go” Jessica said, knowing what was about to come

“Another person to the list” Sarah replied, sounding smug.

Later that night, Sarah did a lot more studying and came across a status post a student had made. “It has been 2 months and my friend Alice is still missing! The police aren’t doing shit! Please if anyone knows anything, message me!”. Sarah finally had something to go on. Even though Sarah wasn’t close with most people, she at least knew of Alice who was one of the very first people to go missing. Sarah was able to begin a timeline. As Sarah began writing names, she had a curious thought.

The next day, early in the morning Sarah caught up to Principal Hayford.

“Principal Hayford” Sarah said, to get his attention

“Oh, hello Sarah” Hayford replied, looking slightly annoyed

“May I ask you a question?”

“That depends, is it about the missing kids?” Hayford said with a slight irritation in his voice

“No. I was wondering when you hired Abraham, the new cook?”

“Oh, about a couple months back” Hayford’s tone immediately changed

“Do you know the exact date?”

“Not right now, but I can look it up and e-mail you it. Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious. So far he is already the best cook we’ve gotten for this school”

“I agree. And he was cheap too. I feel like I got a good deal” Hayford chuckled

“Well thanks, I got to go now” and Sarah ran off before Hayford could trap her in a conversation.

“The day Abraham was hired, Alice went missing the same week!” Sarah said as she said down next to Jessica

“Good morning to you too” Jessica replied, preparing herself for another one of Sarah’s rants.

“Think about it. We’ve had cooks come and go with no problems and then when we got Abraham BOOM 16 students and counting have gone missing”

“That is pretty damning evidence, but you ever consider it could be the Happyvile Slasher behind this?”

“No, The Happyvile Slasher has been gone for a year now. And if it was him, we would definitely know”

“Yeah, I guess”

“How can you just sit there, eating and not give a single fuck?” “What can I do? I’m not the police. I don’t have any skills to do anything. I mean it sucks, but what can you do?”

“I guess” Sarah replied, feeling tired she wasn’t getting anywhere. “What is the lunch special for today?”

“Homemade pizza, with cheese, pepperoni and shredded meat” Jessica said as she took a huge bite

“Looks appetizing” Sarah said, with extreme sarcasm.

Throughout the day, her suspicions of Abraham continued to pursue her, and Sarah knew if she wanted to do something, she was going to have to act. She pretended to stay back at the library, studying and as everyone began leaving except the librarian, Sarah put her plan into motion. Because the school was empty, Sarah could easily slip into the cafeteria and hop the counter. Much like Abraham’s appearance, the kitchen too was spotless. Everything was neatly put away, no dishes in the rack and the floor was clean. Sarah continued looking but aside from basic kitchen items, nothing stood out, until she saw a cardboard box in underneath a table. Inside the box were a few random items and trinkets. Keyrings, badges, pins, hair ties, just a random assortment of items and then Sarah saw it, Kate’s bracelet. She knew it was Kate’s because it had pink nail polish striped onto it, which Sarah had done as a joke. Sarah then heard some heavy footsteps and she immediately put the box back and hopped the counter, pretending to look around. Abraham entered the café and noticed Sarah.

“What are you doing here, child?” Abraham asked, extremely suspiciously.

His voice was a lot deeper when he was angry.

“Oh, I uh dropped something and came back to look for it, but I… uh” Sarah tried to make excuses, but she was bad at it.

“Hold on, I got a box around here”

“A box?”

“Whenever I find stuff students have left, I collect them and hand it to the office’s lost-and-found”

Abraham entered the kitchen area and immediately noticed dirt prints on the floor. He kept this discovery to himself and got the box, all the while eyeing Sarah suspiciously.

“Are any of these yours?”

“Oh there it is, the bracelet. Where did you find this?”

“Over by the back table”

Sarah knew he was lying, Kate would never take off her bracelet unless she had to.

“Thank you” Sarah said and walked off, with fear consuming her.

Abraham watched her walk away and cleaned the kitchen, before closing and heading home. Sarah couldn’t shake the gut feeling she had of Abraham, but she knew he was responsible for this.

“I found Kate’s bracelet in the kitchen! He claims he found it on a table” Sarah exclaimed over the phone to Jessica

“So you broke into a kitchen and found a bracelet in a box”

“I didn’t break in, it was open”

“Sarah, that is a lazy connection and you know it”

“I’m telling you, he is responsible for Kate and maybe the others. I know it!”

“I’m hanging up, call me back when you’ve calmed down”

“Fucking asshole” Sarah muttered and dropped her phone onto her bed. Sarah knew Jessica was right, this evidence was barely anything, and even if it was enough, the cops wouldn’t give enough of a shit to do anything. Sarah knew if she wanted to make a change, she would have to get picture proof.

The next day seemed to drag on as Sarah waited for the end of the day. Knowing Jessica didn’t care, Sarah dropped the conversation and didn’t let Jessica in on her plan. She didn’t need the negativity to pull her down she reasoned. Finally the glorious day came and it was the end of the day. Sarah pretended to be studying and once Abraham was ready to leave, Sarah began tailing him on her bike. The drive lead them out of Happyvile and deep into the country side of things, before eventually into the forest. Abraham stopped his car at an incredibly old looking farmhouse, before getting out and entering a small house near the main house. Sarah noticed she had no signal and planned on a quick in-and-out job. She took pictures of the house and waited. After roughly 20 minutes, Abraham exited the house and drove off, leaving the door unlocked. Sarah took this opportunity and entered.

In a stark contrast to the kitchen, this house was messy. The walls were peeling, the carpet was covered in fur and junk, clothes and items strewn about and an awful stench immediately hit her. As Sarah began probing and poking around, she noticed a downstairs area. Sarah took a quick look outside to make sure he wasn’t back and entered. Any normal person would have immediately left by now, but Sarah was far too invested to give up. The closer she got to the basement, the stronger the smell became. It was very putrid and nearly made her gag. Sarah used her pocket flashlight to illuminate the area and she got a good look at her surroundings. The floors, walls and ceilings were covered in ceramic tiles, with drain holes every 5 feet. Trails of blood were flowing into them. Sarah also noticed there were lots of white, rolled up bags with blood splotches on them. As Sarah continued moving, she heard a light grunt and noticed a person on a table. Sarah rushed over and saw Adrian, except her was naked and had a hook impaled in him.

“Oh fuck” Sarah said, in surprise.

“H-help me” Adrian begged as he raised his hand, which had the index and thumb missing and a giant hole in the palm. Sarah stumbles backwards away from his hand as it drops to the side and hits the tables legs, making a heavy ding sound before passing out. Sarah was too stunned to move, her legs locked in place. After what feels like an eternity, Sarah was able to compose herself and began walking away, planning on calling the cops as soon as she leaves. Before she can reach the stairs, she hears the door lock and footsteps retreating down. Sarah immediately begins running further into the basement as the foot steps get louder. Sarah hides in a side room, surrounded by rolled-up bags. Sarah notices the figure to be Abraham as he makes his way to Adrian. Abraham picks up a hatchet and drives it into Adrian’s face. The impact makes a fleshy noise, as Adrian’s gasps are quickly stifled. Sarah has to bite her hand to stifle her screams, as she watches Abraham continue hacking the body, before putting the hatchet down and wheeling the table to another room. With Abraham gone, Sarah rushes to the stairs, but when she turns the knob, she is terrified to find it is locked.

“I was concerned” Abraham says, his voice echoing around the room. “How was I going to take care of you. Getting the others wasn’t easy, you know. They struggled, they screamed, they put up a fight, but you, you came here”

Sarah immediately ran away from the door, hugging the walls and moving around in the dark as Abraham’s voice came from multiple directions

“I promise you, if you give up I will make it quick” Abraham said, as calm as possible.

“Fuck you!” Sarah screamed in fear. Sarah made her way to the area Adrian was in and picked up the hatchet, arming herself.

“I am warning you” Abraham said, this time more sternly.

Sarah was beyond terrified now. Not only was she locked in a basement with a serial killer, but no one knew where she was.

“You’re not the first person, you know. There were others who came looking, but couldn’t leave well enough alone. I will do whatever it takes to protect my family” Abraham said, this time it sounded much closer.

Sarah jumped backwards and swung, but hit nothing. “Let me go, you fucker!” Sarah screamed, now absolutely petrified and shaking.

“Sorry, but I can’t. You know too much. This is your last warning” Abraham said, now getting angry.

As Sarah began looking around, hatchet ready to swing, she suddenly heard silence. As she began walking, looking for Abraham she felt a sudden pain in her shoulder. Abraham drove a meat hook into her right shoulder, causing her to drop the hatchet. Sarah tried running away, but Abraham drove another hook into her leg, causing her to trip. Sarah fell to the floor, her shoulder and leg in pain, with blood rushing down her back. Sarah continued crawling, before Abraham drove a final hook into the back of her neck, paralyzing her. Sarah wasn’t able to move anymore as Abraham grabbed her foot and dragged her further into the basement, past several rooms until she was in a smaller room. Abraham turned on the light and she noticed it was a make-shift bathroom, with only a tub and several hooks hanging above it.

“I’m sorry it has come to this, but don’t worry, your meat won’t be wasted” Abraham said, trying to calm her.

“Fuck, you!” Sarah screamed, in painful breaths as she couldn’t lift her head. It wasn’t until Abraham began putting on his apron and sharpening his knives, did his words kick in. “What, what are you doing?” Her anger suddenly turned to fear as she looked at Abraham out the corner of her eye.

“My family, my son to be exact, is very particular in he eats. He loves humans, craves it and I love my son, so I get him what he likes. But doesn’t like all parts of them. And I am not a wasteful man” Abraham says, grinding his knives as they make scratching noises.

“Before I begin, any final words?”

“Please, don’t” Sarah begged.

Abraham effortlessly picked up Sarah, before impaling her on a hook. Sarah began screaming, but it was gurgled by the hook. After a grueling 5 seconds, she was finally dead and Abraham got to work.

The next day, Jessica was sitting down, waiting for Sarah to join her like they always do, but she never showed. Jessica texted her and as she waited, she noticed the new Lunch special: this time it was a beef sandwich.

#TheHorrorsofSunshine #THoS #ZeltricStudios #HorrorStories

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mysplaced-pen · 7 years

Note

Can we get a RFA+Saeran+v reacting to MC failing a class, crying for 20 min, and feeling like a failure because of it? I just got my grades back and I feel awful. Thank you ;;

you’re my newest anon, but I want to cheer you up( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ you worked hard and did your best, anon! grades and the school system suck! keep trying! i love you!!

hope this cheers you up a little bit♥

zen

okay, today was the day. it was going to be fine. everything was going to be fine.

mc opened their laptop and went onto the school website. it was time to check their grades

zen was home, reading through his scripts on the couch beside them

*click* school homepage *click* ‘view my grades’ page

close their eyes while the screen loads aaaaaaand…

they failed. oh.

“I’ll be right back.” mc said to zen before getting up and going to the bathroom

they started crying as soon as they closed the door. they really needed to pass that class and they didn’t

mc should’ve tried harder. should’ve done more. anything

20 minutes later, zen opened the door and picked them up, carrying them back to the couch

the laptop was off and a cup of hot chocolate was on the table

he sat down with mc in his lap and kissed their head

“i saw your screen…and i would’ve came earlier, but i wanted to make something to cheer you up first so i can just hold you…”

mc snuggled into zen and sniffled, thanking him

“it’s alright, mc. this is only a small setback. you’re still going to do amazing things and i’ll be with you every step of the way”

yoosung

knows the feeling, but he’s been doing better lately

they check their grades at the same time and yoosung passed, but mc didn’t

yoosung looks up from the screen and sees mc crying

he knows what happened and goes over to pull them into a hug

they sit like that, yoosung hugging mc and mc crying for 20 minutes

“i failed..” mc finally says. “i’m such a-” yoosung cuts them off

“no you are not. you had a teacher who’s style was unclear and you did your best, i’m proud of you”

“but yoosung, i failed.” “i’m still proud of you. it’s alright to fail sometimes. this class is a hard class to understand anyways.”

he makes their favorite dinner while he sits mc on the counter and keeps on saying stuff like this

basically, he is The Most Supportive

yoosung felt this way before, he doesn’t want mc to feel it too”

kisses their nose and feeds them himself

“i mean it, okay? this is not going to stop you.”

jaehee

jaehee got home to find mc on the couch crying

she immediately runs over and asks what’s wrong

mc just points to the laptop screen

jaeheee sees that mc failed a class

she frowns and closes the laptop, picking mc’s face up to look at her

pecks their lips. “a grade does not capture your excellence. your personality, and your worth. it’s alright”

mc is actually kind of shook

they did not expect that

they give jaehee a tight hug, which is returned

jaehee decides to go out for the night to make sure mc is cheered up

they go to dinner and an arcade, just for fun

mc forgets about the grade by the end of the night

“see?” jaehee says with a smile, “you’re more than a letter and a percent”

jumin

he found mc hugging elizabeth when he got home

this is normal, but elizabeth makes a noise that lets jumin know that mc is sad

so he kneels down to them and tilts his head

“what’s wrong, my love?” “i failed my class, jumin..”

they’ve been crying. he can tell by their tone

crawls into bed with mc and elizabeth and proceeds to be the big spoon

plays with mc’s hair and whispers sweet nothings to them to help calm them down

and then he turns them around to face him. elizabeth gets off the bed

“don’t be so upset about a grade, my love. you can try again next time. and you are not a failure, you had a rough time. you’re working so hard, this doesn’t diminish your efforts”

mc manages a smile and moves closer to jumin

“thank you, honey bunny” “of course. now come on, i’ll make you some tea and we can take a warm bath”

“that sounds amazing”

707 / luciel / saeyoung

bursts into mc’s room and automatically gives them a hug

mc doesn’t even need to tell him, he just comforts them while they cry

“you know…grades are at the bottom of the list of things people look at”

mc sighs, smiling lightly, but seven gets the hint

“besides. you’re a person, not a number. I’d know. i actually was a number”

they smile a little more, it’s also a more real smile

while they smile, saeyoung wipes their tears

mc pulls him into a hug, which he returns gladly

“can we cuddle?” they ask and he nods

“i think its time for a disney marathon”

saeyoung cheers mc up by acting as various disney characters and singing the songs as well

grinned so wide when mc joined him, so did mc

v / jihyun

a rare occurrence where v decides to visit

but he came at a bad time, apparently, because mc was crying

he frowned, “did someone hurt you?”

mc couldn’t help but be honest for a second “the school system?”

v realizes what happened now

he smiles sympathetically and makes them tea, talking about how grades are more like limits

“you know…i failed a few classes before.”

mc is surprised, “really?” “really. i failed an art class before”

“wait wait, you failed an art class?”

he nodded. “teacher didn’t like my style. I also can’t work a paintbrush”

they talk for an hour, ending up cuddling and with another cup of tea

mc learned a lot that day. both about v and about grades

they feel a lot better after all that

“thanks, jihyun..”

“im just telling the truth. grades are important, but they aren’t everything. and they can lead people to misunderstand you. you can try again, but you did not fail anything. i believe in you”

saeran

he was looking for mc and couldn’t find them

finally found them when he heard crying from the bathroom

knocks on the door, “mc…are you alright?”

“oh i’m fine saeran..just give me a second”

then he remembers that school just ended and grades were just released

“…was it your grades?” there was a small sob in response

he goes to open the door and finds mc on the floor, wiping their tears

saeran kneels down and cups their face “what happened?”

“i failed, saeran…”

he frowned and kissed their forehead, “it’s alright….you can’t be good at everything. and this happens sometimes. a grade or a class does not define you.”

now he helps them off the floor

“come on, we’ll cuddle and watch those cute videos you like. I’ll get the ice cream”

mc smiles a bit, “thank you, saeran..”

#mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger hc #mysme headcanon #zen mysme #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jumin han #707 #saeyoung choi #v #jihyun kim #saeran choi #anon #a request!#ams has rambled

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