#interview with noelle

[unclewaynemunson]

Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)

Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.

Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.

Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.

Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.

Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.

But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.

Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.

He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.

“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”

“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.

“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”

And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.

So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.

More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?

Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.

He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.

They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.

While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.

“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.

“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.

Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.

“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”

“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.

“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”

“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”

Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.

“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”

“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”

“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”

“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”

Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.

“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”

He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.

“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”

Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.

“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.

And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?

His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.

“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”

Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”

“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.

“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”

Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...

Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.

He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.

“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.

And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.

[the-unrelated-theorist]

Ever wonder whether sans and Papyrus are using their real names?

sans is a comic. Literally, Comic Sans. Like, yeah, everyone's name in this game is a pun or an anagram or something. But it would totally make sense for sans to have come up with that name himself.

As for Papyrus:

Many people think Noelle was talking about Pap, for several reasons, one of them being that this egg, like Papyrus, is "forgettable." Or at least, that its name is.

I've pointed out before that I don't think sans wants Pap to remember where they came from.

We still don't know where they're from (or when). We know sans hides stuff from Papyrus. And that Papyrus pretends not to know stuff about sans and hides how much he does know from sans.

Anyway. There's not much more I can give to show the connection I drew. I just somehow came up with the theory that sans may have changed his and Papyrus' names when they came to the Underground. And mostly to protect Papyrus from whatever sans doesn't want him to remember.

[thestrangestwatermelonofall]

So I was literally just telling my friends about how excited I was for this newsletter that I assumed was going to drop tomorrow morning, and when I got home an hour later and refreshed my email I saw the newsletter and I got to hyped. OMG. the world is wonderful

[imsosocold]

Thinking about how Iwamoto thought Franziska’s older sibling was male and that one of his sketches for Godot was based on his personal idea of this sibling.

[gdnewsam]

The ladies of Noelle Vella would like to thank Atmosphere Press for an awesome interview! Check it out here:

[jjspina]

Interview an Author with Author Noelle Granger!

[galacticjonah]

Their sound is edgy, young and topical. This four-woman crew has set out to mix up the underground scene and has caught the attention of anyone who has a hunger for something different. The face of Knifepoint, Noelle (full interview p.7) describes their mission as 'cutting through the bullshit, right to the bleeding heart of all those who struggle to be heard'. Despite a lot of pushback and criticism, these young talents have successfully defended their place in the food chain... // Rolling Stone, 1982

I've been wanting to make a fake cover for years now and finally felt that my skills have reached the level that is needed to make it kind of convincing. Noelle (they/she) is my vampire from the personal project I've called RED TEETH RUN so far. They used to be the frontwoman of a successful punk band back in the late 70s/early 80s...

If you want to know more, I'll be posting all that stuff under the according tag right here!

[variousincorrectxreader]

genshin incorrect quotes

Ei Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me Y/n: Okay, but in my defense, Miko bet me 50 cents I couldn’t drink all that shampoo. Ei: That’s not what I wanted to- you drank SHAMPOO?!

Store Worker: Would a Miss Yae please come to the front desk? Yae, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Y/n and Ei Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Y/n and Ei, simultaneously: We got lost :( Yae: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

y/n: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'? Jean: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated- klee: Smad!

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker* y/n: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: Jean: ...I did. I broke it. y/n: No. No you didn't. Kaeya? Kaeya: Don't look at me. Look at Lisa. Lisa: What?! I didn't break it. Kaeya: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? Lisa: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken. Kaeya: Suspicious. Lisa: No, it's not! Noelle: If it matters, probably not, but... Amber was the last one to use it. Amber: Liar! I don't even drink that crap! Noelle: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? Amber: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Noelle! Jean: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, y/n. y/n: No! Who broke it!? Everyone: Noelle: y/n... Kaeya's been awfully quiet. Kaeya: rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* y/n, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. y/n: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. y/n: y/n: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

y/n, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. Razor: Hey. Bennett: Hello! Fischl: Greetings, o great and mighty y/n, we have entered your domain due to a shortage in the corn chips coated in a divine layer of fermented dairy and various herbs. y/n: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Amber: We were out of Doritos!

y/n, banging on the door: ayato! Open up! ayato: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Thoma: No, they meant- ayaka: Let them finish.

y/n: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions? ayato: Put spaghetti in it. y/n: I'm currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you. Thoma: Put spaghetti in it. y/n: I'm currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two. ayaka: Put spaghetti in it. y/n: I'm no longer taking suggestions.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC interview

Thanks @writingsfromspace for the tag!

I'd like to do someone I don't talk about a lot, so I'll do Wade!

1. Are you named after anyone?

“Technically, no, but also yes? My parents are both hydrokinetics, so I'm Wade. As in, wading in water. My younger twin sisters are Brooke and Marina. Subtle, but a little silly.”

2. When was the last time you cried?

“Oh, why did you have to remind me about Deep Impact what the HELL was that movie???”

3. Do you have kids?

“Sort of. The guys at the Aequales. I'm their age, but I'm their dad. I'll fight you for that. I'm a momma bear around them. Don't cross me.”

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

“Nahhhhh totally not.”

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

“Vibe. Next.”

6. What's your eye colour?

“Teo tells me they're as blue as Glacier Freeze Gatorade. I think they're like totally the color of toilet water.”

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

“Happy endings. I'm a sucker. I want to cry. But I'll admit watching Parker scream like a kindergartener is a happy ending for me.”

8. Any special talents?

“My healing powers are pretty dope. I also play football. My talent is not getting hurt. I'm good at schedules. I'm learning the piano. I've never gotten less than an A on a poetry assignment. I always win Clue. Pacing. I'm also a decent leader.”

9. Where were you born?

“Goddamn Florida.”

10. Do you have any pets?

“A dog named K'Ehleyr.”

11. What sort of sports do you play?

“Football. My inability to get hurt and heal others makes it my duty to make this sport as safe as possible. I don't care if Ceters find out about my powers.”

12. How tall are you?

“I am 6-foot-2 which is a pretty awesome height except when I'm next to Parker. Or Noelle.”

13. What was your favorite subject in school?

“Girl, I'm still in high school. Is this why you asked about the kids earlier? Damn, pedophile. Anyway, I love history. But they don't teach it right and it makes me mad.”

14. What is your dream job?

“Oh, I'd love to be a history professor while also coaching football on the side. Maybe an event coordinator side business. If I can do all, I will.”

Wow this was so much fun!

Softly tagging @gracehosborn @mk-writes-stuff @jezifster @little-peril-stories @mysticstarlightduck @splashinkling @winterandwords @awritingcaitlin @elsie-writes @herrmannhalsteadproduction @poethill @somethingclevermahogony @forevermagik + anyone else!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites (bonus tag)

Blanks under the cut

1. Are you named after anyone?

2. When was the last time you cried?

3. Do you have kids?

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

6. What's your eye colour?

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

8. Any special talents?

9. Where were you born?

10. Do you have any pets?

11. What sort of sports do you play?

12. How tall are you?

13. What was your favorite subject in school?

14. What is your dream job?

[pavardscherie]

girl dad benji has me in my FEELS! do you think you could write about the first time little girl goes to a game and benji is just so proud that she’s there and brings her all around the locker room showing her off to everyone? 💕💕

you’re making me fall even more in love with benji —

it’s been three month since you gave birth to the beautiful girl in your arms. the new role has been difficult in the beginning since benji still had to leave a lot because the games and training sessions didn’t wait for noelle to grow up. but this time, this one saturday, you decided to watch the game against freiburg and show the princess the allianz arena for the first time.

a pair of noise-reducing headphones covered her small ears, dressed in one of the first crimson-red bayern jerseys, benji brought home after a game. seated close to the pitch, you had the best view of your husband throughout the ninety-two minutes, and he even scored a goal. by the time the referee blew the whistle to end the second half with a win for the number one of the chart, benjamin grabbed a water bottle and jogged over to the stands.

behind you, the supporters almost went crazy. screaming his last name, reaching out with their phones and trying to get the match-worn jersey. and he would have been happy about the attention, he would have cared for it if his eyes would not have landed on the sweet, sleeping princess in your arms. the world around him seemed to vanish, it didn’t matter where he was or who shouted his name.

benji’s arms quickly found their way around noelle, picking her up from your lap and holding her tightly to his chest. the fans and cameras went crazy at the sight, taking millions of photos while the defender tried to hide the face of the little one. “i will take her to the team, are you coming with me?”

you nodded your head frequently, relieved to leave the mass of fans that gathered in the front of the stands to receive an autograph from benjamin. and he didn’t want to seem mean, or act like an arrogant fool but as soon as his fingers only touched noelle’s little body, he was pulled into another world. climbing over the stands with the help of a security guard, benjamin led you towards the catacombs, where most of the team already changed clothes and celebrated their important win to increase the points.

before even reaching the locker rooms, the loud laughs of müller and sommer already echoed through the busy corridors. photographers waited at the end, their cameras tightly in their hands and trying to take a couple of very interesting pictures for their websites, and the social media accounts of the club.

you quickly followed the hurried steps of your boyfriend, noelle pressed tightly to his chest and ignoring the incoming questions from the interviewers about the new-born baby in his muscular arms. when benji reached the locker room, kimmich’s eyes focused immediately on him and as the captain, he instructed the team to lower their voices and not interrupt noelle’s tight sleep.

“well boys,” benjamin stepped into the silenced changing rooms, followed closely by you. wrapped up in a rose blanket, and dressed in her sweet woolen cardigan over the bayern jersey, noelle smacked in his arms, moving slightly to cuddle herself further into the warm material and benji’s arms. “i’d like to introduce you to noelle, my beautiful princess. she’s just three months so no touching.”

you stayed in the door, the shoulder leaned against the frame and watching in awe, how benjamin carried the little girl through the attentive gazes of his teammates. after telling him that he could not fulfill his dreams of a little boy following into his footsteps, his mood changed for a couple of days. his expectations were completely overthrown when he saw noelle for the first time. since the first day, benjamin and noelle were inseparable. she slept more in his arms and cuddled up with her father than in her own crib. it was beautiful, a sweet sight and your phone was flooded with pictures of them.

“look at that cute little girl.” sane cooed, smiling widely as the team gathered around noelle and benjamin. most of the mates already had their own children, and always teased benjamin for not going a serious step forward with his marriage. and yet, a new baby in the locker room always seemed like a huge surprise.

“she’s way too beautiful to be benji’s!” müller chuckled, carefully patting benjamin’s shoulder with the dry palm of his hand. “she has your curls.” leon interrupted the joking ways of müller, and ruffled a large hand through the chestnut curls on benjamin’s head.

the praise from the boys, the little resemblances spoken by the teammates made him extremely proud. benjamin’s soft gaze drifted from the smiling mates around him to the little girl in his arms, watching how her small hands moved and tried to grab her woolen cardigan.

benjamin held the whole world in his hands before. being part of a popular and successful club for over two years, and having a certain position in the starting eleven of each game. playing football, doing what he loves so much and earning money for it.

but benjamin’s world changed, turned upside down when the babygirl was born. noelle pavard became all the good things in his life, and added another tad of happiness. and you were allowed to watch his loving gaze, how his brown, soft orbs traveled over the sleeping girl in his arms.

his long pointer finger reached out, carefully stroking over the soft skin of noelle’s strawberry-red blushed cheek. “you know, i made this beautiful, little girl.” benji muttered, his heart swelling with extreme pride.

“sure, but you had a little help.” joshua commented, patting the defenders shoulder and nodding towards the door. benjamin’s gaze followed his gesture, his lips curling into a wide smile at the sight of you. arms crossed, leaned against the doorframe and watching the loving interactions. but it was obvious, that you couldn’t wish for a better dad for little noelle than benjamin.

[lumosinlove]

Day Two:

On the second day of Winterfic, Hazel gave to you, a bit of Breakaway!

Logan wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous. These things were mostly locked in before they had even happened. In the higher picks, it was a formality of calling out the name, a bit of tape to keep for your children, the good feeling of getting to walk up onto the NHL draft stage on shaky legs, slip a new jersey over your head and put the hat on with the new logo on it, your team logo. Logan had always, when thinking about getting drafted, been happy there was a hat to put on. A bit of shade from the cameras, something to duck behind for a little relief. A place to take a breath.

He’d said so to Noelle once. She’d just made a face. “If that’s how you feel, what do you wear yours backwards for? Silly, Lolo.”

Logan reached up to take his hat off, push his hair back, and put it back on again. It was more just the feeling of having something. Something to draw attention to other than himself. But this wasn’t about him. Not just now.

Not when the camera kept finding Finn’s face, Alex and his parents sitting beside him in the huge auditorium, to fill Logan’s parents’ large TV in the living room.

“What do they call Harzy’s brother again?” Noelle asked from beside him, reaching into the bag Logan was holding in his lap for another chip. “Not Harzy, too, right?”

“Non. Hazard.”

“Huh. That’s a hot pair of brother’s right there.”

Logan reached into the bag himself, letting the loud crinkle and the crunch of a handful of chips answer for him. “He wore the blue.”

“Huh?”

Logan shrugged. “He was deciding which suit. Alex liked the gray one.”

Noelle took another chip. “Which did you like?” When Logan didn’t answer for a moment, to intent on watching Alex whisper something to Finn, making Finn tilt his head back and laugh before the camera cut away, she nudged him.

“Hm? Oh, le bleu.”

“Hm,” Noelle said. “Looks good.”

Logan put another chip into his mouth.

They didn’t have to wait long for Finn’s name to be called. It was a blur for Logan, mostly. Flashes of Finn’s familiar face while he sat in his seat, the harsh lights making his freckles look starker. Logan’s eyes caught on the way he was rubbing his palms together, nervously, the way Alex was sitting in the exact same position, talking softly to him—distracting him, most likely. But Logan knew he was right. These things were mostly locked in before they actually happened. And Finn was Finn. He was pure talent, pure charm, and anyone would be crazy not to take him for their own.

Pure fucking insane not to do that if given the chance.

The Gryffindor Lions were on the stage now, a couple of men, leaning into the microphone and waiting for the buzz from the last pick to die down. Finally, they spoke.

“The Gryffindor Lions are proud to select, from Harvard University, Finn O’Hara.”

Logan leapt up with a shout, again, like he hadn’t known—and he had—but he leapt up anyway. He didn’t hear them repeat it in French. The chips were on the floor, probably spilled in a way that would crush fragments into the carpet to be licked up by one of the cats later, but he didn’t care. He’d known, anyone’d be crazy not to want Finn, and there he was, getting up, getting a hard hug from Alex, then his parents. Walking down from his seat in his easy, smiling sort of way. Getting up on the stage, shaking hands, pushing his hair back a little before putting on the jersey, then the hat—brim just high enough so that his face was still visible, brown eyes bright and happy. Logan watched him smile for the picture.

In his pocket, Logan’s phone was buzzing like crazy—the group chat, probably. But then Finn was walking off, his profile, even in the harsh shadows and highlights of the stage lights, so achingly familiar. Something Logan felt like he’d always just been able to turn his head to one side and see. Straight nose, a little pointed, full mouth. Smiling to himself just now, jogging down the stage steps, then at the woman waiting to interview him.

He looked good in the red and gold. It warmed to his hair color, to his flushed cheeks, complimented the easy way he had his hands in his pockets, like he’d been born to be put in front of the camera. Tall and broad, and he looked so happy that Logan felt it in his own chest.

“How does it feel, Finn?” the woman asked.

“Oh man,” Finn said, and Logan couldn’t help but laugh out loud, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. It was such a Finn thing to say. He’d give him shit for it later. “This is so amazing. The Lions are a great organization and, uh, you know, Sirius Black and everything, I just—I’ve always loved the way their lines mesh. Can’t wait to see where I can fit in and put the work in.”

The woman smiled, nodding. “I’m sure they feel the same. But you’re going back to finish up your final season at Harvard first, do you think your teammates are watching tonight?”

Finn laughed. “Uh, I can currently feel the group chat going crazy in my back pocket, so, yeah, I’d say they’re watching.” Finn glanced at the camera, right at Logan, just for a moment. Logan’s breathing caught in his chest. “Their support means everything. Makes this night extra special.”

“Thanks, Finn, and congratulations.”

He was ushered away just as quickly as he had been ushered on, the show moving on, but Logan was still reeling. Finn had just looked at the camera, for the team, but Logan felt like—like maybe—

“That’s amazing for him,” Noelle said, and Logan jumped a little.

He’d forgotten anyone else was in the room.

“Ouais,” Logan said, almost a little embarrassed. He’d just been grinning stupidly at the television. “Yeah, I—”

And then his phone began to ring. Logan didn’t really have the energy to pretend like he didn’t race to answer it. “Uh—hold on, it’s him,” he said to Noelle, and all but tore out of the room. He meant to go to his own bedroom, but he lost his willpower to wait as soon as he made it to the far end of the hallway.

“Harzy—” Logan felt out of breath, panting into the phone. “Oh my God. Finn.”

It was loud where Finn was, but all Logan cared about was his free, disbelieving laugh. “I know, I—can’t believe it. Did you see? Did you watch?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I watched. Saw your interview. I’m so—” Logan pressed his hands over his eyes. Why the hell was he going to cry? “Fucking amazing, I’m so happy. I’m so proud of you.”

Finn was quiet for a long moment. Logan just listened to the music and voices in the background, his soft breathing on the other end of the line.

“Finn?” he asked eventually.

There was a rustle, like he was holding the phone closer. “Say it again.”

Logan bit his lip, pressed a hand to the wall beside him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s all that matters,” Finn said back, and Logan leaned entirely into the wall, temple against the coolness of it.

“Non, it’s all you tonight. D’accord?”

Finn laughed. “Yeah…Hey, I gotta do some photos and stuff. Just wanted to hear your—to say hi.”

“Ouais. Yeah, go, go.”

“But see you in a couple days. Right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” Finn let out a breath, another laugh. “Good. Good, I can’t wait.”

Logan laughed, too. “It’s only been, like, two weeks.”

“Yeah, well…” Finn sounded like he was smiling. “I can’t wait.”

Logan’s heart pulled tight. “Me too.”

“Okay,” Finn said. “Okay—will you—I mean, I’ll be here, then I’m getting dinner with Al and the family but like—tonight I’ll be probably awake? Like just adrenaline and stuff, so…”

“Call me whenever you want. I’ll be awake.”

“Yeah.” Finn let out a breath that sounded relieved. Maybe pleased. “Okay. Okay, bye, Lo.”

Bye, Lo. Why it sounded so sweet to his ears, Logan didn’t know, but it made him hold the phone closer. Why it made him want to cry, he didn’t know. “Bye.”

He was still looking down at his phone, long-hung-up, when Noelle came looking for him. She leaned against the wall beside him.

“Hi. How is he? Good?”

Logan nodded. “Really happy.”

“How are you?”

The emotion was still welled in his throat, and he knew Noelle could tell. Noelle could always tell.

Logan nodded, shrugged a little, because he wasn’t sure he could speak without giving himself away entirely. How was he? He wanted to be back in New York, with just Finn, in his apartment. Empty air mattress on the floor, not daring to speak about it but—and Finn had let Logan turn away but he’d also locked his arms around his waist and held him, chest against Logan’s back, like they had during his concussion (those terrible, terrible nights). Only, those in New York had been the very best of nights. And now Logan was running out of time that he never had. Finn would be in Gryffindor and Logan would be…

“Lo…” Noelle turned towards him, and when Logan made to push off the wall and walk away, she put a gentle hand against his arm, catching him. He could have shaken her off, easy. He could leave right now. Instead, he let her keep him there. Her hold was gentle, her other hand coming to his shoulder, chin pressed over it, something like a half-hug. “Lolo, no, hey, just—hold on.” She dropped a kiss to his shoulder through his shirt. “Hold on, okay?”

Logan wanted to be back in Nice. Do you want me? And the cool ocean floor.

Noelle took a steadying breath. Logan could just see her messy bun out of the corner of his eye, her honest green eyes, knowing him so well, too well, and letting him hold himself still. “Logan, I…It’s—it’d be okay if—”

Logan just kept his eyes down, heart pounding harder by the minute.

Noelle held him tighter. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right? Anything. I love you.”

“Noelle,” Logan said through grit teeth. Logan suddenly wanted nothing more than to still be smaller than her. He wanted to tuck himself away. But he couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t.

“Finn’s—amazing. Finn’s so wonderful. He’s so wonderful to you. That’s all that matters, we all love him so much because…because he really—because you mean so much to him.”

Logan gave his head a small shake. He realized the socks he was wearing were Finn’s.

“You don’t smile like that with anyone else,” Noelle said softly, then rested her head against his shoulder, looking down too. “Not even us.”

Logan let out a slow breath, sort of jerking towards Noelle, then stopping himself. He pressed his hand over his eyes again, pinching at his nose. He could feel how tightly he was holding himself still, like maybe if he didn’t move, it would all just leave him alone.

“Logan,” Noelle whispered, hand looping around his arm. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Logan just turned into her, stooping down to press his face into her neck, arms tight around her waist. Noelle rubbed the back of his neck gently, like she had when he was small and the fear of storms had been worse, fueled by not yet having the ability to recognize that it was just weather.

Maybe Logan had been hoping the same would happen with everything else that scared him to shaking, as he was now, in his sister’s arms. He wished it would all turn out to be passing weather.

“Shh, Lolo, you’re okay.” Noelle pressed a kiss to his cheek without pulling away. “I love you so much. You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

Logan just pressed against her harder, and Noelle laughed softly, maybe a little teary.

“You’re not five anymore, Lolo, you’re gonna knock me right over.”

“Sorry,” Logan whispered, but didn’t let up.

“Don’t be.” Noelle squeezed him tighter, too. “Don’t be, I love it.”

Logan was dimly aware of the sound of the TV on downstairs in the den, where the others were watching something. Noelle had been the only one who’d said she’d watch with Logan, even though Logan had told her she didn’t have to. Part of him had even maybe wanted to watch alone—only, that wasn’t quite true. It wasn’t true at all, Logan realized, as he let Noelle rock them a little from side to side.

“Nolly,” Sydney’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs. “Lobear, we’re starting a new episode, if you’re done up there!”

“Okay!” Noelle called back, sounding a little annoyed to have been interrupted. “Yeah, one sec!”

“We’ll start it without you!”

“I said okay!” Noelle shouted back.

“Okay, merde, calm down.” Sydney grumbled as she retreated.

Logan pulled away slowly, ducking away so she couldn’t see the few tears that had fallen. But she took his face in her hands and wiped them away with her thumbs instead, then pushed up on her toes to kiss his forehead.

“Did you two…” She hesitated. “I mean, have you talked about it?”

Logan didn’t even know how to answer that. Do you want me? Say something. Anything, Lo, please. I feel alone out here.

Logan just looked at her, as if willing her to understand. She seemed to, at least a little, because her soothing had was at his shoulders again, lulling him a little.

“D’accord,” she said. “Well…If you’re worried he doesn’t want you like that, then I have to tell you how much I think he does—”

“I know,” Logan managed to say. “I know that.”

Noelle shook her head. “Then…”

“We can’t.” Logan swallowed. “We can’t. Because we’re—this is—we can’t.”

Noelle’s eyes went unbearably sad. “Oh, Lo. No, Bear, that’s not—that isn’t true.”

Logan just looked down, brow pinching. Noelle cupped his jaw.

“Logan, that isn’t true.” Her voice was fierce. “You mean because of hockey? Because you’re both boys?”

“Shh,” Logan said weakly.

“We’re all alone in our house, no one can hear us.”

Logan felt the tears again. “He’s in the NHL now. A rookie. That’s the biggest spotlight there is.”

Noelle kept Logan’s eyes on her. “Logan. Don’t ever think—I mean, I know there are assholes out there. Fuck, of course there are, but you have to give yourself what you want. It’s not hurting anyone, you have to allow yourself—”

“I—Non.” Logan’s voice broke, and he realized he was gripping the material of her sweatshirt hard. “I would ruin everything for him.”

Noelle stilled at that. “Logan…”

“I would.”

Noelle was still shaking her head, eyes wide. “How long have you two…”

Logan just let the tears come, then. Felt them pull at his lungs. “The beginning. I mean, not—but since…Noelle, merde, don’t make me say—”

“Oh my God,” Noelle breathed, and pulled him back in again, their cheeks together. “Oh…”

Logan heard himself choke back a sob as he let himself fall into her. “Noelle…”

“It’s okay,” Noelle said. “Just come here.”

“I can’t,” Logan whispered, hoping to God no one came up the stairs. He was getting her sweatshirt all wet, just like he had when he was little. The storm, Nolly, the thunder, I don’t like it. It’s going to come inside, Nolly. He clutched her tighter. It was all inside him. I’m so proud of you. Say it again.

Noelle squeezed him tighter. “You’re just—you’re my little baby brother. I don’t care how big you get, you’re mine and—” She was crying now, too. “And I hate seeing you like this. I want you to be happy and—and you’re happy with him. You’re so happy when you call me from school sometimes, but then other times you’re—I don’t know. I knew something was wrong, I could hear it, but I couldn’t figure it out…and now I just…God, come here.”

Logan wouldn't let himself cry for too long. The others would wonder where they went. But, just for now, just for one more minute, he would.

~

Not for the first time, Logan wished that he and Finn still shared a room. It was nice having privacy, and it wasn’t a good idea for them to be in the same room that much anyway because—because these summers had been—

But that didn’t mean Logan didn’t want to be laying in his bed just across from Finn’s right now, waiting for him to open the door, rumpled from the plane, and so happy. The Gryffindor Lions. An NHL fucking team.

Being in the room he had now did have its perks, though. It meant he could see Finn’s car pull into OKN’s driveway, headlights flashing bright in his window before turning off. It meant he could watch Finn’s silhouette get out, pop the trunk for his bag, and then chirp the lock—loud in the night—and start for the front door. Logan tried to keep his movements slow as he opened his own door and stepped into the third floor hallway. He could hear the jingle of Silver’s collar going all the way down the stairs from Percy’s room below him to greet Finn, and Finn’s whispered kissy noises, his soft voice.

“Go ahead, sweetheart, go get a drink. Good girl. Good girl.”

And then the sound of Finn beginning to climb the stairs as Silver went for a drink in her kitchen bowl.

Logan knew Finn would hear his his footsteps but he didn’t care as he padded down the stairs to meet him on the second floor landing. He was breathless by the time he rounded the steep corner, half worried he was going to trip over his own feet in his rush. He caught himself on the railing just as his eyes found Finn, who had just reached the landing.

He was holding his suitcase, which had a plane pillow around the handle. He was wearing a sweatshirt for that bookstore he loved, the Strand, and his beat up blue vans.

They didn’t say anything. Finn just let go of his suitcase, Logan trotted down the final steps, and then they were hugging. Arms tight, breaking into a soft laugh—Logan could feel Finn’s against his skin.

“Hey,” Finn whispered. They were rocking a little, side to side, not letting go. Like he had been with Noelle. Something of the same feeling was there. Tight and eased all at once.

“Hey, Lion.”

Another warm laugh against Logan’s neck. “Ha, yeah. Looks like it.”

You don’t smile like that with anyone else.

“How are you?” Finn asked. “Your flight was okay?”

He’s so wonderful. So wonderful to you.

“Mhm.” Logan should let go now. He should let go now. But Finn gave the back of his neck a little squeeze and he knew, even if neither of them spoke about it, Finn knew by now what that did to him. So Logan just closed his eyes, inhaled his familiar scent. I missed you. It’s been two weeks, but I missed you. Finn’s arms tightened around him. Logan could have said it. Right now, he could say it.

“Mhm,” Finn parroted, and they both laughed softly as they stepped back. Smiled at each other. Finn’s eyes dropped to Logan’s mouth, just for a second, and then he tussled Logan’s hair and tilted his chin towards his own room.

“Have a present for you, c’mere for a sec.”

Finn ditched his suitcase by his closet while Logan settled on his bed like he had a thousand times before.

“Was it weird being interviewed? Did you get your call from Black yet?”

Finn laughed, tugging his sweatshirt over his head and then coming to sit beside Logan with his backpack. “Not yet. You’ll be the first to know. We’ll probably be together for it, so.”

“Yeah,” Logan said. He knew he was sitting too close, but Finn had sat down in a way that made their thighs press together and Logan couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Wanna see?” Finn grinned and reached for his backpack. “Ready?”

Logan smiled. “Ouais, ready.”

He unzipped the big pocket and pulled something out, dropping it right into Logan’s lap.

A Lions hat.

“Wow,” Logan said, still more interested in Finn himself.

“Look.” Finn’s hand brushed his as he turned the hat so Logan could see a small 17 on the side. “They ironed on my number, right in front of me.”

Logan thought of those old white sneakers in his closet that Finn had drawn on. Finn was here, and the little smiley face. This hat felt the same. 17. 17.

Logan flipped it backwards and pushed his hair back, settling it onto his head. “Good?”

Finn just kept smiling at him, but it softened as he looked over Logan’s face. Eyes darting from the number to Logan’s eyes—to his mouth. Back to the number.

“Yeah,” Finn said softly. “Yeah, good.”

Logan wet his lips. “Merci.”

“Mercy…”

They both smiled a little at the joke, years old now, but the air had changed in the room. It wasn’t the casual reunion. Maybe it was never going to be.

Logan held himself perfectly still, watched Finn look at his mouth again. He looked down at Finn’s. A little chapped from traveling. He looked soft and sleepy and warm, brown eyes puddles of it.

“I am,” Logan said before he could keep it in. “I am proud of you.”

Finn’s brows drew together a little. “Yeah?”

“Ouais,” Logan nudged their shoulders together, and just sort of stayed that close. Because he wanted it. He wanted to kiss him so badly that it felt like there was a hook lodged in his chest, tugging. “After…là.” He reached up, God, what was he doing?, and brushed a quick hand over Finn’s neck, the back of his head where he’d hit it against the boards. “After everything.”

“It’s a relief,” Finn said. “And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Not true.” Logan laughed. “Finn.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Yeah-huh. Like—seriously, would they have even noticed me if I hadn’t had you by my side? God, like—God, I wish you were a year older so they could have both of us and we would just—Lo, we would tear it up out there and we would—” Finn bit his lip, knocked their foreheads together gently. “We would stay together.”

“It’s not about me,” Logan said. “I’ll be fine. I’m just—you did it. You did it, Harzy. Do you have any idea—merde, you know how—how…how not every day?”

“Rare,” Finn supplied, finding the words for him like he always did.

“How rare that is.” Logan winced. “I don’t like that R sound.”

Finn laughed. They were so close still. “I think you sounded good.”

“You would never say anything else.”

Finn just kept up with that small smile he was giving him. “Like that hat?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm,” Finn said, and Logan rolled his eyes.

“I like it. Seventeen,” Logan said. The pull was back, the hook, stronger, because Finn was still close like he was going to knock their foreheads together again. It was stealing Logan’s breath away, all of it, being back together, the Lions, Noelle…Finn was looking at him like—like he might feel it, too. Logan supposed he was just being stupid if he was, at this moment, still telling himself that they weren’t both feeling this.

“Okay. Ten.” Finn said it softly, and then he was tilting his chin forward, fractionally, so that his lips could brush the corner of Logan’s mouth.

Logan turned his head into it, just a little, feeling Finn’s breath let out shakily. The first kiss was barely one at all, hardly made a sound. They shouldn’t. They shouldn’t, Logan thought as he leaned in again. They shouldn’t, so just one more, and that would be it. That would be it, just—Logan felt Finn part his lips to let Logan swipe his tongue in, warm and gentle. Logan pressed his palm into his own thigh, moving to pull away, willing himself to, because there. There, that’s it, but Finn chased his mouth, hand going to cup his chin gently, like he was pulling on that hook in Logan’s chest. One more, slow, and heavy, and full force of Finn’s warm skin and scent, then another, another, Finn angling his head differently and just one more—

“Is that an O’Hara I heard?”

Percy’s voice in the hall. They were apart in a second, Logan off the bed, heart pounding so hard it hurt, trembling with each beat. He stood near Finn’s desk, across the room, hand out to steady himself, his back to the door. He touched his mouth. It would have been that easy. That fast, a moment of letting himself go, and Percy would have seen. And it would—it could have gotten out and Finn had only just made it, and it would have been all Logan’s fault. Finn deserved better.

“It’s an O’Hara,” Finn said back. Logan closed his eyes and pressed his fingers more firmly against his lips when he heard Finn’s voice break. “Uh, and a Tremblay. Hey, Perc.”

“Mr. Lion!” Logan heard Percy sing-song, and then the sound of him thumping Finn on the back.

Logan hoped he looked all right as he turned around. He offered a smile to Percy.

“Lion in the house, Perc,” he said.

“Damn right.” Percy smiled. “Hey, Silver still downstairs?”

“Yeah,” Finn was rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, she was getting water. Cute that she ran all the way down for me.”

“Aw,” Percy smiled. “Girl misses all of her daddies.”

Finn laughed, but he kept glancing at Logan like he was expecting something. And Logan didn’t know what that could be. He felt frozen stiff, like he hadn’t worn thick enough socks to a pond skate. Maybe he was looking at the hat, the seventeen. Maybe he was worried that Logan was wearing it—but no. No, they did this all the time. It was normal. It was a joke.

“So?” Percy asked, then gave Finn’s shoulder a playful shove. “Saw you on TV. How was it?”

“Pretty much, uh. Pretty much what you saw. I mean—yeah. I took a shit ton of pictures, shook a shit ton of hands.” Finn shrugged. “We’ve got a season to win here.”

Percy snorted. “Yeah, yeah, Captain. Very Captain of you.”

Finn rolled his eyes, giving him a shove back. “I’m not a captain to them. Just you weirdos.”

Percy looked at Logan with a grin. “We are pretty weird.”

“Speak for yourself,” Logan said—a phrase he’d picked up from Finn. It had the intended effect, made Percy laugh…made Finn look at him instead of Percy, brown eyes pleased.

“Look,” Finn said. “I’ll tell you all about it, Marshy, but I’ll just have to repeat myself tomorrow. And I’m fucking tired, just got off a plane.”

“Are you telling me to get out of your room?”

“Yep.”

Percy gestured to Logan. “What about him?”

“I was already leaving,” Logan said, which wasn’t true. It was such a lie that it tasted bitter. What would he have been doing if Percy hadn’t walked in when he did? Would he—would he still be—

“Whatever. All right.” He ruffled Finn’s hair. “Breakfast gossip, then. Night.”

Finn smiled. “Sounds good. Night, Perc.”

Percy left, whistling down the hall. They both heard the jingle of Silver coming to find him. Finn stayed still and quiet for a moment before he turned, looking at Logan. He put his hands in his pockets, wet his lips in a way that was nervous. He was so gorgeous it ached.

Logan could walk right back up to him. Press his hands to his cheeks, kiss him. I missed you. It’s only been two weeks. He’d missed Finn so badly that he’d just let him kiss him like that, like it was nothing, like they did it all the time. Like he’d been expecting it. Have a present for you.

He couldn’t stand how Finn was looking at him, like he couldn’t read him. Finn could always read Logan. Instead, he still had his hands in his pockets, unsure.

Finn tilted his head. “Do you…Do you want to—”

“Bagels in the morning?” Logan said quickly.

Finn stuttered over whatever was going to make up the second half of his sentence and nodded. “Yeah. Yes. Yeah.”

Logan nodded. “Yeah. Good.” He took a halting step towards the door. “Thanks for—the hat.”

Finn just nodded, smiled tightly, close-lipped, brows drawn together.

Logan didn’t really remember getting back to his room, only that, once in bed again, in the dark, he brought his fingers to his mouth again, where Finn’s had been.

[trouslinabone]

I have a controversial theory

The Papyrus QnA was in-universe staged. Now, I know that sounds weird, so let me explain.

Something's that been bothering me about the Papyrus QnA is that Papyrus is constantly smiling -- Which, yeah, he's a skeleton. So what? But the thing is, is that he's *always* smiling, even when he's supposed to be mad.

Here, when he's ranting about mayonnaise being used as a beauty item, when he chastises Sans, he's not upset like his sprite before. No, he's smiling. Like he's trying not laugh or something.

It reminds me a lot of this one Noelle sprite in Deltarune.

Here, Noelle's being playful while also being "mad" or something along those lines. And it's the exact same face Papyrus does. (I suck at describing faces smh)

And it's not just this one case, either. Otherwise we could chalk it up to Papyrus just playing in general. Here's some other points cases of him smiling despite it not being "appropriate":

(He should be mad at Sans for exposing him, yet he seems like he's having fun with this)

(Despite his brother chastising him, he's still smiling and seemingly having fun)

There's more, but I'll move onto more compelling point.

Another major red flag that makes me think the skelebrothers staged this entire thing is the fact they're bathing in front of each other. Now, assuming the Undertale fandom got the whole ectodick wrong, this isn't like bad or anything, but it's still strange to me. Why is Papyrus doing this interview inside the bathroom? You'd think he'd be doing this literally anywhere else, but no. His bathroom is the place to be.

Also, another case is the heavy hitting final question:

Now, this seems weird to some. It's led many to think that Papyrus forgot or something, but what's really weird is how okay he is with Sans taking over, despite earlier he hated the idea of Sans stealing his interview.

This tells me that he's purposely avoiding the question. Now, I previously said that it may be because he doesn't want to think about it. But I have a new suggestion this time:

If this was staged, he's purposely leading us on. We know that he knows all about time and space (by extension, probably timelines and universes), so there's no reason for him to have forgotten that he literally came from another universe.

And he can't really be avoiding the question (Despite him doing it previously with other questions) since unlike this one question:

He doesn't get nervous before avoiding the question, he just outright does it. So, if he can't be avoiding it and he couldn't have outright forgot it.

That leaves one option: He's purposely hiding it. Thus, meaning, they probably staged it. Not just the one question, but the entire interview, thanks to just how Papyrus acts. If you voiced him as always seconds away from laughing and just overall fucking around with us, it'd make more sense really! Outside of a few instances of course.

Papyrus, and Sans by extension, are purposely hiding it. But why? I mean, of course, Toby Fox wants to raise questions and build hype for Deltarune, but I mean in-universe.

My best guess is that they not only know more than they let on (which is on brand for our favorite skeleton duo), but here's where we enter purely speculation:

The main idea I have is this:

One of them, probably Papyrus, is trying to send a message to a single person in specific, that's right, the fandom's favorite scape-goat... Drumroll please! W.D. Gaster! Of course, saying the name of the Universe they came from for the interview that will be seen by millions of people is bad.

So if he gives a vague hint, before being interrupted and having Sans "finish" the question, he won't be asked why he just gave a vague hint, instead placing the blame on his brother whom is known to pull stunt like this.

But of course, if Gaster is scattered across time and space, then he should know exactly what Papyrus means by his vague hint. And for those who question further, Sans can just claim that Papyrus meant the Ruins, where all monsters used to live. Or if he had to be really specific, he could claim they actually came from the surface, where they hid for a few years after the human-monster war ended.

So, yeah, that's it. This entire interview was staged to get Gaster's attention to lead him back to Deltarune. Why? Who knows, but maybe we're not seeing Sans and Papyrus before they went to Undertale, maybe we're seeing them going back to their hometown after years of being away. Maybe they have unfinished business?

[landograndprix]

start of the season and everyone in twt is like "uhhh zoë leclerc dressed in papaya???" and noelle shows up with charles like isn't bahrain just amazing place drama to happen. love square + homies hopper + bro code + step dad + max and daniil type thing. so much chaos im so excited for whatever you decide to do!!!!

charles being so stressed because he has to act normal when being interviewed by jenson and his ex gf and out of spite lando joining the lot? A little Dnf as karma? I mean, miss girl her dad does work for the FIA 👀

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the fox

Chapter 5/21(?) - words 1996

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

The next day you go shopping. You manage to convince Noelle to go with you so she can help you pick some appropriate things.

Your husband had personal shoppers that chose what they thought would be best. Each garment was exquisite in its lines and execution, but they had definitely been more for show than comfort. It left you with a nonexistent fashion sense.

The mall is packed by the time the two of you get there. In hindsight, Saturday afternoon was not the best pick if you’d hoped for a calm first attempt and finding your style. Still, Noelle seemed completely unfazed by the prospect. If she noticed your hesitation, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she forged ahead, linking her arm with yours and charging into the fray.

You shop for basics first, picking up plain t-shirts and blue jeans. The generic stores are easy, find your size and leave. For the statement pieces, it was a little more challenging. You gave Noelle a budget and she ran with it, finding a diverse selection of things to bring to you in the changing room. You pinched and pulled at the various fabrics, trying to get them to fit in a way that you found comfortable and flattering. Every so often you’d show some to your companion in the same way the other girls in the shop were showing their mothers. Sometimes she nodded, other times she looked absolutely disgusted.

Ten stores in and it’s clear that neither of you could maintain the momentum much longer. You grab the mouse’s hand before she sets foot in a businesswear store that looks far too serious for your interview. She looks at you questioningly and you gesture towards the food court.

“Dinner on me?” You ask, already walking towards the pizza place across the hall.

“Absolutely.”

Noelle finds a long table to perch on the end of while you go and buy enough food for the two of you to share. The food area is just as packed as the rest of the mall. It’s difficult to weave through all of the bodies to find your way back to her without dropping your pizza box.

Just as you see her through the crowd, someone scrapes their chair back into you.

It happens almost in slow motion.

You tip forwards, twisting to try and stop the pizza from falling to the floor, forgetting to shield yourself from the hard concrete that was quickly becoming closer. Bracing yourself for the impact, you tense up. Only for it to never come. A steadying arm is behind your back preventing you from hitting down hard and someone else is supporting your food to keep it upright.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

You glance up into the eyes of your saviour only to find one of Jimin’s mates holding you up. Another stands at his side, now holding your tray. Blushing wildly, you stand up and immediately begin apologising to the pair.

Yoongi glares after the person that had knocked you over in the first place, grumbling about a lack of manners. Namjoon smiles wide and hands your tray back to you.

“I’m good, thanks.” You avoid eye contact by dusting yourself off, despite never having touched the floor.

“It’s good to run into you again Y/N, Jimin was talking about you again last night. He says you have an interview for a job now?” He makes friendly conversation as they escort you back to Noelle.

When you reach the table, Noelle welcomes the men and invites them to sit with you. It is clear that she must know them well, not a surprise knowing how much Jimin gushes about them to complete strangers, let alone his colleagues and friends.

“Yeah, at some office downtown, it’s a receptionist job. Should be really great experience. I don’t really have a lot else on my resume."

“Any job is better than no job at the minute,” Yoongi grumbles pessimistically.

Namjoon jabs the grumpy Jackal in the ribs.

The three of them start a conversation about the last time they met and you are more than happy to listen as you munch on the pizza in front of you. It seems to have been some kind of fundraiser put on by the shelter, a casino night where they dressed up in fancy clothes and pretended to be Highrollers for the evening.

“Wouldn’t that be fun Y/N?” Noelle asks, waving a hand in front of your eyes.

Your mind runs away from you then. You find yourself distracted by images of the men in 007 tuxes, hair slicked back as they moved from game to game all evening. Jimin’s hair a flame in the muted room, Namjoon’s laugh echoing across the hall, and Yoongi making jokes with the bartender. It would seem that none of them had met Jungkook back then.

You stop chewing, a string of cheese still connecting you to the slice in your hand as you try to work out what they possibly could’ve asked you while you were zoned out.

“Oh, yeah that would be cool. I’ve never been to anything like that before.” You smile, trying to seem invested.

“We were talking about having another benefit like that one soon.” Yoongi supplies helpfully.

The only benefits you had been to were beyond dull. Always in a stuffy museum, with art that never had emotion behind it. Each ticket had cost more than an average person’s salary, and the food had been the most pretentious concoctions ever imagined. You loathed attending each one, a fact your husband knew.

He just sighed and repeated how you only needed to attend to be seen. He would promise that you wouldn’t stay to late, and each time you would be amongst the last of the guests as he laughed along with yet another boring old man’s recount of a hunting trip. Hunting trips were common among your ex-husband’s crowd, they never seemed to see the irony in having hybrids within their homes and then hunting regular animals for sport.

Jungkook gets very bored when he gets left alone. So bored he often ends up doing weird shit until one of his mates walks through the door. Today isn’t too bad. Yoongi and Namjoon said they weren’t going to be gone long, just to the mall to get some things that they had been running low on. An errand that always goes much faster when they don’t have Jungkook with them to get distracted every five minutes ( A much cheaper trip without him needing a little treat too).

The men stayed with you while you ate. You mostly listened to them while they talked, occasionally muttering assurances to demonstrate that you were actually listening to them this time. When you finished your meal, they said goodbye and headed in the opposite direction to you, back towards the parking lot as you and Noelle continued on your mission to find clothes.

______________

He wraps himself in Jimin’s favourite blanket and lies upside down on the sofa so his hair dangles to the floor. The TV doesn’t make much sense this way up, but it does provide a fun new perspective.

He barely hears the door open two hours later. The blood rushing around his ears almost blocks out the sound.

The older man tilts his head to look at Jungkook upside down.

“Kookie? What the fuck?” Namjoon asks coming into Jungkook’s eye line.

“I dunno, got comfy.” He shrugs.

“How many people am I going to have to save from the floor today?” Yoongi shakes his head, bending to help Jungkook up.

The motion throws off his balance and he slides onto the floor at his hyung’s feet.

He’d so badly wanted to like you for Jimin’s sake but you just made him so uncomfortable so quickly. The only predator he had ever warmed to quickly had been Namjoon, so he wasn’t expecting miracles, none of them were. But you had been so rude.

Jungkook looks at the pair confused as they share a knowing glance, a joke from today that he isn’t privy to. That’s when he smells it on them. Smells you on them. He can’t help the whine building in the back of his throat as he nuzzles frantically into Yoongi to change the scent back to his own.

He finishes scenting Yoongi and turns to immediately do the same to Namjoon. The bear accepts the affection gladly, cuddling the bunny in close and dragging him back to the sofa.

“We weren’t gone that long bunny.” He shushes.

Jungkook continues to bury himself into Namjoon’s neck, barely pausing to listen to the other speak.

“She really isn’t that bad Kookie, and she barely touched us, we can’t smell of her that strongly.” He sighs, pulling the rabbit’s hair to make him back away.

“Smell wrong, not my Joonie.” He reasons, earning an eye roll from Yoongi.

Jungkook whines again but concedes because he can no longer smell you on them. He hoped it would be a long time before he had to see you again, but Jimin and fate seemed to have other plans...

_____________

By the time you arrive back at the shelter, most of the day staff have gone home. Noelle heads straight down the corridor and into her dorm room to set her bags down. Instead, you collapse straight into a chair in the common room without really thinking, feet too tired to keep moving.

You’re sat for less than five minutes when you are tipped on to the floor with a bump.

“What is your fucking problem??” You growl, standing quickly and backing the lioness into a corner before she has a chance to sit down.

Even standing up straight with your teeth bared you have nothing on the other woman. Naturally a much bigger breed, you never stood a chance as she swung for you. Her claws connected with your cheek, not giving you the chance to duck. Immediately six other predators descend, separating you from her.

You press hard against the scratches, blood dripping over your fingers. The others take Lyra into another room, management following quickly behind.

You’d shocked yourself when you’d rounded on the other predator. Violence had never been an option you took, you had frowned upon other predators that resorted to violence before their words.

A hand is on your shoulder, guiding you back to sit down in the chair again. Tears sting at your eyes as you finally start to feel the pain of the wound. With cloudy vision, you can make out the flame red-hair in front of you. He reaches up and peels your hand away from your face.

“This is going to hurt Y/N.” He warns.

“Can I change rooms tonight?” You sniffle.

Something warm and wet is smoothed along your cheek, stinging as he cleans the blood away.

“There is no way you are staying here tonight Y/N.” Jimin says.

“Oh, is it because I started a fight? I get it, I’ll find somewhere else to stay... thanks for all the help though.”

You try not to let any more tears fall at the prospect of getting kicked out. He rest a hand on your shoulder as you go to stand, preventing you from going anywhere.

“That fight wasn’t your fault, you didn’t start that, you just tried to finish it. Lyra will be getting kicked out, that’s her third strike... But she has friends here and I want you to be safe. You are coming home with me.” He states more like it’s a fact than a request.

You start to protest, the idea once again sounding ludicrous. But then he presses his hand to your cheek again, and the pain is bad enough to have you second-guessing your judgement.

Masterlist

He dresses the wound on your face and disappears to make Namjoon aware of the new arrival while you pack your things back into your bag and get ready to leave.

Next

Series masterlist

[same-name-supremacy]

How did the cast first feel about Simon before they all realized he creepy as fuck?

Whoa that’s a good question! Alright I’ll do this individually

Opal: She saw a potential new friend! A bit odd, but a new friend!

Glenn: He thought he was really weird and creepy

Heath: He thought he was super creepy and annoying

Danika: She thought he was another annoying weird man. Great

Leshawn: He thought he was an overexcited fanboy

Ginnifer: She thought he was cool! Another cool new dude!

DJ: She thought he was mean. Why did he want her negative opinion on her friends?

Lincoln: He loved his hair! Such a nice purple! Where has he seen that shade before?

Bryson: He thought he was chill, just very intense

Trin: She noticed the weird looks she gave Jody, she’s not a fan of him

Harriet: She thought he was a huge Drama Sisters fan! Jody must be his favourite!

Corey: He thought Simon was just another interviewer

Seth: He thought Simon was cool. Man I didn’t know people could get so tall!

Jody: She was creeped out when she first met him. He wouldn’t stop.. staring at her. She felt him touch her hair and shoulder a couple of times.

Issac: He thought Simon was great! Someone he can spill all the dirt he has on the others!

Taylor: She thought he was a bit intense.

Kam and Sam: They thought he was just a huge fan.

Justine: She had no thoughts on him. She really didn’t care about him

Noelle: She thought he was really annoying. He’s very invasive and he told everyone she has a few fake teeth. Thanks for that creep

Evan: He hated him. Just leave me alone

Elizabeth: She thought he was pretty smart, he really knew everyone!

Alejandra: Really annoying and creepy. Glad he’s off her team

[isfjmel-phleg]

I've talked about the misinterpretation of The Secret Garden as being about healing from grief before, and I'm still thinking about it and found some interviews with authors of recent retellings that demonstrate this assumption about the story:

Ivy Noelle Weir, author of The Secret Garden on 81st Street: When I was re-visiting the original work, I was struck by how much it is, really, about grieving. Mary, Lord [sic] Craven, and Colin have all lost people, and they’re sort of feeling their way through it and figuring out how to live when you’re grieving. Grief, unfortunately, doesn’t really know an age, and it’s something children experience too. I rooted myself in Mary’s perspective: What is like to be so young and experiencing so much change all at once? If I were her age again, and finding myself all alone in a new place, what would bring me comfort, what would intrigue me, what would be difficult?

Lorelai Savaryn, author of The Edge of In Between (transcribed from a video interview): Actually, in my early drafts, Lottie had a poor relationship with her parents too, and that was one of the moments for me—some things weren’t working, and it wasn’t […] really the story I wanted to tell. So there was a point like three rounds into revisions where I realized to make the story right, I had to have her relationship with her parents be lovely and wonderful, and so I had to completely start over and write the whole thing over again at that point and change that, and I think that that allowed for her grief journey to be more authentic to what people—to what kids for the most part could relate to. I know we can all have complicated relationships with our parents, but I wanted her first experience of loss just to be really true to like someone who had deeply loved, because I think we can all relate to like losing somebody that we deeply loved, so I chose to change that […]

Amber A. Logan, author of The Secret Garden of Yanagi Inn: So when I started thinking of stories to retell (I love a good retelling) and started brainstorming about retelling The Secret Garden I had to ask myself: what kind of elements do I want to pull out of the original? Perhaps it is because The Secret Garden is a children’s book, or perhaps because it is a product of its time, but I’ve always felt that the main character, Mary, wasn’t dealing with enough grief. She just lost both her parents and was shipped to a strange place on the opposite side of the world! I wanted to really pull that grief out and delve into it on a much deeper level. But the original story is about healing and new life, and I wanted to include that kind of bittersweet happiness at the end that only comes about from having survived a dark place[.]

Weir is correct that the major characters have all lost people, but her perception of them as "feeling their way through it and figuring out how to live when you’re grieving" isn't really supported by the text? Mary is not grieving at all because she had more or less no relationship with her neglectful parents. Colin has lost his mother, but he never knew her, so his sense of loss is directed not toward her personally but what could have been. The two of them are "figuring out how to live" but doing so after having never been given the chance to in the first place. Mr. (not Lord!) Craven, meanwhile, spends most of the book wallowing in his grief rather than trying to cope with it; this is a subplot and not the main theme.

Savaryn is telling a story that is unambiguously about grief. It's a perfectly valid story, but her observation that retaining the heroine's poor relationship with her parents undermined the story she wanted to tell is interesting. It didn't work because the themes of The Secret Garden are significantly different from the themes Savaryn is employing. It's not that Mary's "grief journey" is less "authentic" but that she isn't grieving her lost parents because there was nothing about that relationship to grieve, and that's the tragedy of it. Yes, we can all relate to having deeply loved and lost, but that's not the story Burnett was telling, and since Savaryn is telling that story, the choice to use The Secret Garden as an inspiration doesn't seem to me to fit well.

Logan seems to have missed the point entirely. Mary's not "dealing with enough grief" is not a flaw of the book to be chalked up to its time or intended audience; it's a very deliberate choice that Burnett makes to demonstrate the outcome of Mary's loveless upbringing.

And I'm struggling to understand why it seems to be so difficult for so many creators to grasp something that the text makes so clear. Why does everyone want so badly for Mary to be grieving a loss? Is it not bad enough that she has been so emotionally neglected that she has no concept of attachment? There appears to be such determination that Mary must be grieving that the assumption is made that Burnett got her own story wrong and it must be adjusted to correct this failing--when the actual issue is right there, in the text, practically spelled out.

Maybe I should write a paper.