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the-storming-sea · 3 years

Note

For prompts: Todoroki using every single Toshi-Izuku interaction to add to his "Izuku is All Might's secret love child' conspiracy board

Tfw its been like two to three days but Many Things have happened in that time. Oops

Uh, anyways–

"Dude. What. The. Fuck."

Sero, Kirishima, and Yaoyorozu stared, wide-eyed and nearly slack-jawed from the futon they currently sat at. Across from them, hanging off the wall was a large pinboard, polaroid pictures and newspapers articles with certain words and pictures circled in with bright red marker tacked onto different places, red string connecting each and every single one of those pictures together.

And in front of that pinboard stood Todoroki Shouto, one of the most powerful students at UA, son of the current Number One Hero, wide-eyed and wild-haired and probably, by definition, out of his fucking mind.

"Listen. I'm not crazy–"

"Literally everything that's happening now is providing evidence to the contrary."

"–but All Might is Midoriya's father."

"That's." Kirishima blinked, once, his brain attempting to process what his classmate was saying. "What?"

"All Might. Is. Midoriya's. Father," Todoroki said, slower, like he was trying to explain quantum physics to a toddler. Or to anyone.

"Todoroki, All Might's never been in a public relationship before," Yaoyorozu replied, slower. Of all of Todoroki's eccentricities, this had to be the weirdest one yet. "Not to mention, all of All Might's speculated relationships have been with men."

"Then at least one of his partners is trans, or he's trans!"

"They don't even look the same!"

"Then Midoriya gets his looks from his mother! They have the same quirk! They practically act the same!" Todoroki threw his hands up in exasperation, frost creeping on the side of his fingers. "I'm still right!"

"Bro, you've met Midoriya's mother."

"Artificial insemination! Adoption! Again, secret love child!"

Todoroki slapped his hand on the board, slightly burning the edges of one of the newspaper clippings. "Look, see here," he said, pointing to the clipping. Kirishima tentatively walked up, squinting at the headline. "Read this."

"'Mystery Samaritans Found Cleaning Up Takoba Beach.'" Kirishima frowned. "So?"

Sero's eyes brightened. "Oh, I remember that! I used to go to the beach all the time with my family," he said. "What's that gotta do with anything?"

"Look at this photo!"

Kirishima turned his eyes towards the photo, frowning. His eyes widened in shock.

"Holy shit, is that Midoriya?"

"Huh, so it is," Yaoyorozu said. "And...is that...?"

"YES!" Todoroki exclaimed, once again slapping his hand on the pinboard and startling his friends. "All Might, as he currently looks now, and Midoriya found at Takoba beach a full year before the school year starts. That means they knew each other before the school year started!"

"You repeated yourself."

"I know I know I know but why," Todoroki pressed, taking a deep breath, "why would All Might, in his weakened state before Kamino, be seen with Midoriya unless...unless that was his secret son."

He clapped his hands together just as he was finishing his point, clearly pleased by his argument. The three stared back at him, slightly alarmed.

"Or...maybe he just met him recently and they decided to clean the beach together," Yaoyorozu said tentatively. "It could happen."

"Or, or they decided to train for Midoriya's UA Exam together by lifting appliances at the beach! Or working out around the beach a year before!" he protested. "My father used to make me train by lifting up heavy objects ten times my size and pushing my quirk before the UA exam too!"

Sero frowned. "Todo, I know good parenting is a foreign concept to you, but comparing your relationship with your dad to Midoriya and All Might maybe isn't the best of ideas."

"I'm pretty sure Iida used to train with his hero brother in a very normal way," Todoroki nearly fucking pouted. The guy was really fired up– metaphorically and a little bit literally, judging by his floor. "But, but anyway, what I'm trying to say was that All Might, trying to make sure Midoriya would be strong enough for the entrance exam, made him clean up the beach because he was helping to train his son!"

Kirishima stared at him. "Bro."

"I'm right! Not to mention, why would he be in his thinner state around Midoriya if he wasn't his son?!"

"Maybe he told him about the weakened form back then by accident?" Sero said. "Todoroki, seriously. You're looking too deep into this."

"I agree," Yaoyorozu said. She loved her friend, truly, but as good as it was for Todoroki to exhibit any other emotion besides confusion and rage, this couldn't be healthy for him.

Todoroki groaned. "Okay, okay, fine. Exhibit B!" He pointed to a picture of All Might and Midoriya walking into All Might's office. "They eat lunch together! Who does that with a teacher?!"

Kirishima hummed. "Okay, I'll give you that one," he said, looking back at the others. "You gotta admit, that is a little suspicious."

"You forget, Midoriya broke his bones a lot at the beginning of the year just by activating his quirk," Yaoyorozu said, calmly. "As the Heroics teacher, All Might would want to make sure they can find a way for Midoriya to improve his quirk use without breaking his bones, so it would make sense for All Might to meet up with Midoriya out of class."

"But why continuously?!" Todoroki pressed. "Even after Midoriya got a handle of his quirk?!"

Yaoyorozu frowned. "Well, Bakugo meets with them now. Is Bakugo All Might's son too?"

"Details, details," Todoroki said with a wave of his hand. "Bakugo's practically Midoirya's boyfriend anyways. All Might probably wants to vet him or something."

"Somehow I believe that less than your 'All Might is Midoriya's dad' theory."

"They're going to get together, just you wait," Todoroki said. "Anyways, back to business. It's not just at school too! Even now that we're in the dorms, lately All Might will eat with Midoriya, alone, just the two of them!"

He pointed to another picture of Midoriya and All Might eating meat buns on a bench, no one else in sight, lightly chatting. "See! It would make sense if All Might ate with any one of us, or if there was a bigger crowd, but it's just those two! That's a normal parenting thing, right?"

"Dude how did you even get that picture."

"Irrelevant."

Yaoyorozu ran her eyes over the full board again, wincing internally. As...off-putting as her friend's efforts were, he did have a point. All Might's actions towards Midoriya were unprecedented of a teacher, Aizawa would certainly never be caught dead with any of them. And sure, they simply could be good friends who met a little before the Takoba news article picture, friends could be of all ages after all, but with the way All Might treated Midoriya daily, it was getting more and more likely that Todoroki's theory was correct. Which had some very interesting implications and also a media shitstorm on its way if it was true.

"And," Todoroki continued, now rambling as fast as Midoriya was, "did you know that All Might visited the Midoriya's to talk about the dorm system alone?"

Kirishima's mouth dropped. "Seriously?"

Todoroki nodded, eyes wide and a small smile on his face. "Aizawa-sensei told us himself back when he asked my father if I could stay in the dorms! My father asked where All Might was and Aizawa-sensei told him that they split up right before the Midoriya's!"

Sero's eyes widened. "Okay, I will admit that that's weird."

"I know right?!" Todoroki exclaimed, out of breath and restlessly pacing the floor. "Not only that, but All Might was one of the first people Midoriya texted right after he got his hero license. And Midoriya ended up interning with a hero who All Might knows directly and worked with Nighteye during his work-study who's All Might's only sidekick! And then Midoriya was invited personally to I-Island by All Might! And–"

Knock knock.

The group froze.

"Young Todoroki? Can I speak with you?"

Fuck.

Todoroki tentatively walked over to his door, opening it just enough to find All Might standing behind it, a worried expression on his face. "Are you all alright? The kids downstairs reported a lot of yelling, and I think you may have frozen and burnt through your floor?"

Todoroki looked back at his floor, which now looked slightly more like the training room back home than it did his dorm room. "Right. I can pay for that."

"No need my boy, just make sure it doesn't happen again or I think Aizawa'll have all of our heads," All Might chuckled. He then frowned, slightly opening the door more. "What on Earth is that?"

His eyes were pointed directly behind Todoroki, to the pinboard the high schooler had been deliriously gesturing towards for the past few minutes. Kirishima, Sero, and Yaoyorozu stared at each other awkwardly, shuffling their feet.

"Um...well, y'see–"

"All Might, is Midoriya your illegitimate child?"

The air paused. Everyone turned their eyes to the teen.

All Might blinked. "I'm sorry...what?"

WHAT THE FUCK, TODOROKI?!

"Todoroki, bro, you can't just ask shit like that!" Kirishima exclaimed, who now, like the many people around him, was going through all the stages of grief. "That's not one of those things you can just ask people!"

Todoroki tilted his head. "I asked Midoriya."

"YOU ASKED MIDORIYA?!"

"I–"

The kids now directed their attention back to All Might, who had managed to shake himself out of his stupor and somehow made his way to the pinboard. "I'm not...young Todoroki, believe me when I say I'm 100% sure I'm not Midoriya's biological father," he said, rapidly glancing back and forth from the board to Todoroki. "As...creepily impressive as this is," he continued, gesturing to the entirety of the board, "I've never had a child, and besides, young Midoriya's biological father works overseas, in America."

He pointed to the slightly burnt newspaper clipping of Takoba beach, looking back at Todoroki. "Is this about the Takoba beach cleaning?"

Todoroki nodded.

"Huh." All Might turned to the clipping, a strange, soft, thoughtful look on his face. "I didn't know they did a report about it." He turned back to Todoroki. "May I keep this?"

Todoroki nodded again, even slower, and a delighted smile appeared on All Might's face. The four students watched with wide eyes as he took the newspaper clipping in one hand and the pin in between his other fingers, gently lifting the pin from where it had been embedded in the pin board, lifting the newspaper clipping from its place, and placing the pin back where he had found it. Seconds passed. All Might rubbing his thumb over the picture in the newspaper with a soft chuckle. He then gently folded it, each crease careful not to tear the newspaper apart, before placing it in the pocket of his tracksuit.

Then, as if he remembered that there were other people in the room, he turned to Todoroki. "Ah, Aizawa-kun said that you had redecorated your room yourself, yes?"

Todoroki nodded, still stunned. "Perfect! The bots will be up here in a few minutes or so to repair your floor, and then refurbish your room any way you see fit." All Might clapped his hands together, a bright smile on his face. "Just try not to do it as much, alright? And please stop stalking young Midoriya and I. I don't know how many times I can catch you in the act before telling him that one of his best friend's have been stalking us to obtain proof of our non-existant biological relationship."

"You saw me?"

"Young Todoroki, I've been the number one hero for three and a half decades."

"Oh." Todoroki frowned. "Sorry."

"Just don't let it happen again, please." All Might took a heavy sigh before finally addressing the others in the room. "Young Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, and Sero, I'll be seeing you in class tomorrow. Plus Ultra!"

"See you!"

"See you tomorrow All Might!"

All Might left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Todoroki, Kirishima, Sero, and Yaoyorozu in the room, waiting for the repair bots to arrive, silent and bewildered with what had just transpired in the past ten minutes. The four of them couldn't move, only the sound of breathing being proof that any of them were even alive. After what felt like several, long, painstaking seconds, Todoroki turned to his friends.

"Y'know, All Might worked in America for a while."

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, TODOROKI."

#thestormingsea posts #yagi toshinori #toshinori yagi #all might #bnha #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #dad might #mentioned midoriya izuku #mentioned izuku midoriya #mentioned deku #he doesn't take a part in this story but just in case ig #and then kirishima sero and yaoyorozu are here but they don't do much

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 24 part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Arguing

After enjoying a tense afternoon with Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian comes home to enjoy a tense evening with Jiang Cheng. He pauses in the doorway as he takes in Jiang Cheng’s mood and decides which metaphorical mask he will put on to interact with his shidi. As someone who grew up with explosive people, I find this routine very familiar.

Wei Wuxian is always carefully playing a role as he interacts with the people in his life. Clearly he has read the classic sociology text The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life and is using it as a how-to guide. We see him do this same calculation over and over, in which he reacts internally to a situation, comes to a decision about what persona to inhabit, and then dons that persona. It’s a typical abuse survival tactic and...it is exhausting.

This is why I think his leaving to be alone for a while in Episode 50 is a good thing. Being alone isn’t better than being with someone else, usually, but for Wei Wuxian, who is (by Episode 50) assured of love but not sure where he belongs in his own life, being by himself for a while is going to be the best thing for him. He can learn how to just be a person, instead of constantly trying to mold himself to fit everyone around him.

For the current tense situation, Jiang Cheng is polishing his sword, which, incidentally, is slang (in English, not necessarily in Chinese) for masturbating. Which makes their conversation about how frequently it needs doing kind of a hoot. “One time a month should do,” per Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng yells at Wei Wuxian--fairly, really--for being drunk all the time and not working on clan tasks. Then he responds to a hug attempt by shoving Wei Wuxian and knocking him down. JC asks WW if he’s too drunk to manage his spiritual power. Now, we know that he doesn’t have any spiritual power to manage, and that’s the main point of this interaction. But it also shows us something else about their dynamic.

This was just a quick hit, and when it takes WWX out, JC asks why he isn’t responding with spiritual power. Which means that apparently *every* time Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian a shove or a shoulder check, or strikes him--like he’s been doing constantly since Episode 3--he’s putting spiritual power behind it. That’s...really harsh.

Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to fight back, and Wei Wuxian can’t; this is a big part of why their relationship breaks down. Casual blows loaded with spiritual power are part of their vocabulary, and Wei Wuxian can’t speak that language any more, even for basic defense. He’s literally not safe having simple interactions with Jiang Cheng now, because he’s secretly disabled, and Jiang Cheng is casually injuring him whenever he gets too close.

(more after the cut!)

This time Wei Wuxian has had enough, and raises Chenqing to Jiang Cheng, who immediately backs off. Jiang Cheng has seen that thing in action, not just on the battlefield, but in a small room full of whatever remained of Wen Chao when they were done with him. He takes this as a serious threat, and backs off, disturbed and puzzled and hurt.

Jiang Cheng thinks the change in Wei Wuxian is coming from apathy, not from disability, and so he misunderstands it over and over. Think of a friend saying “whatever, I’m sick of arguing with you, do what you want.” Jiang Cheng is very ready to feel rejected, and not at all ready to look at Wei Wuxian’s behavior and try to actually understand it.

Crying Over You

Wei Wuxian bails and goes to see Jiang Yanli in the ancestral hall, where she is polishing a name plaque. I turned the gamma way up to see whose it is and...I dunno. This character might be 江 (Jiang), I guess?

Jiang Yanli is the only one of the trio who knows how to mourn properly, in that she is taking some time to sit and be sad. Mourning the dead--both ritually and just in the emotional sense--is as important a part of reclaiming Lotus Pier as the training of disciples and having good times on the lake.

She asks him about his fight with Jiang Cheng and he says he’s used to fighting with him. Jiang Yanli asks him if he’s tired of living there, and Wei Wuxian deflects and deflects, saying “it’s my home, where else would I go?” and that if Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted him he would still be begging in the streets. He says “no matter what happens, I won’t leave Lotus Pier,” which is not an answer to her question.

It’s also not true. Like so many of his promises, it’s an expression of his wishes, with no space for the surprises real life is made of. He promises her that he won’t be reckless again, and asks her not to be mad at him. She says she can’t be mad at him, and then they share a flashback about Jiang Fengmian finding him on the street. This is a story, not a memory; Wei Wuxian can’t remember but he remembers her telling him about it. Jiang Yanli wasn’t there, in the moment. So this is her telling the story as it was told to her, probably by Jiang Fengmian.

Flashback Time

In the flashback, picky salad-hating Wei Ying is out on the street, looking for food in a cartload of pretty okay scraps. I mean, yeah, skip the tomatoes, but most of the greens look fine.

He’s found and fed by Jiang Fengmian, who recognizes him and decides to take him in.

Within a couple of episodes, we will see Wei Wuxian paying this favor forward, saving someone he finds starving on the street. Just like Jiang Fengmian, he's going to upset and disrupt his family in order to help someone for whom he feels a deep connection.

During this flashback we get a look at Jiang Fengmian’s sword, and it is a beauty.

What is Love

As the flashback ends, Wei Wuxian is smiling, hearing Jiang Yanli tell this touching story of starvation and orphanhood. She tells him he was born with a smiling face, and that he never minds much about sorrowful things; no matter how bad the situation is, he is always happy. Way to reinforce that metaphorical mask he’s wearing over his deep, deep despair, sis!

They talk a bit about Jiang Cheng’s bad temper. Then Jiang Yanli says now that her parents are gone, they three are the closest in the world, and he responds by putting his head down on her knee and theatrically saying he’s hungry. But he’s crying for real, and so is she.

Then he decides to ask her why people fall in love, basically, and claims that he does not have anyone in his heart. He says there’s no need to like a person that much, that it’s like “haltering your own neck,” according to Netflix. Let’s have a look at that figurative language for a second, and what’s missing from the Neflix translation.

What he says is (as near as my qhanzi.com skills can make out) “這不就是自己給自己脖子上套犁拴韁吗” which Google tells me means "Isn't this just putting a plow on my neck with a rein?" The part of the image that’s missing from Netflix subs is the plow, and the hard labor and animal servitude involved in pulling a plow. This isn’t a pro-romance image.

He’s clearly thinking about Lan Wangji when he lies about having no-one in his heart, but right now the yoke that he wants to escape has nothing to do with Lan Wangji. The person he’s harnessed to in a team, the person who he labors with, the person he wants to escape, is Jiang Cheng. What’s chafing his neck is the promise he made, to stay and serve as one half of a pair, when he can no longer pull his weight.

Busted

Speaking of Jiang Cheng, he is hanging around outside the shrine, listening to the conversation. Wei Wuxian busts him, pointing out not that eavesdropping is bad, but that it’s bad for grownups. Jiang Cheng points out that he’s the master of Lotus Pier so he’s allowed to go anywhere he wants.

(I love how he looks framed by this giant lotus behind him)

We Wuxian has another of those moments where he assesses the best approach to Jiang Cheng before responding.

Then he picks a fake fight with him about soup. Yanli comes out and tells them both to grow up, saying that JC is losing his demeanor as clan leader. He jokingly fixes his already-perfect robe ad they all have a chuckle.

Then Jiang Cheng reminds Wei Wuxian of his promise for the millionth time, and Jiang Yanli goes to make soup for the millionth time. As soon as the boys see that she’s gone, the smiles drop right off of their faces. They’re both performing their typical relationship dynamic for Jiang Yanli.

Being Reasonable

The brothers repair to the main hall, and stand behind the lotus throne looking out of this complicated wall/doorway thingy, while they talk about Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan.

Jiang Cheng is being mature and sensible here, trying to give Jiang Yanli what she wants and also explaining very, very basic political stuff to Wei Wuxian, who is too caught up in his hate boner for JZX to want to think about the bigger picture. He also thinks that Jin Guangyao is a nicer person, but Jiang Cheng says that nice doesn’t matter.

Wei Wuxian is getting a full head of steam going about what a jerk JZX is, when Jiang Cheng makes him actually stop and think, by pointing out that it’s not for them to forgive or not forgive Jin Zixuan’s past behavior; it’s up to Yanli.

Wei Wuxian sees the reasoning in this, and starts to say he can’t understand why Yanli chose to like this person, but then he stops himself and goes through a rapid series of thoughtful, uncomfortable expressions.

Perhaps he’s realizing that he himself has chosen to like an infamously stuck-up, fancy cultivator, albeit one with no soup-related character deficits.

Library Time

The stuck-up cultivator in question is currently in the Cloud Recesses library, where he has snuck into the forbidden books room, against his uncle’s express command, for the purpose of helping Wei Wuxian. The forbidden books room is an entire basement floor of the library; it probably has more books than the not-forbidden part of the library, since the main floor needs space for the restrooms, circulation desk, and copy machines.

(Did OP photoshop the Wangxian-in-the-Library porn picture onto Lan Wangjis’ book? She did.)

A couple of other Lans come along and see the main door unlocked. The lock is a big fish that probably uses magic for locking; it definitely doesn’t use a key. One of them steps in the doorway, glances back and forth without walking through, and does not check the secret door to the forbidden vault. Gosh, how did Su She and/or Jin Guangyao ever manage to steal secrets from this highly secure location, wow.

Lan Wangji hears the Lan disciple on guard duty say “don’t tell Hanguang Jun about this!’ and has a series of microexpressions that might indicate some kind of feeling about simultaneously being a rule breaker and a rule enforcer.

Boat Time

We end with an idyllic scene on the lake in Lotus pier, where a new batch of disciples is harvesting lotuses and learning the opposite of boat safety.

Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are having a good time, and seem utterly carefree; both of them are good at living in the moment, or faking it.

Wei Wuxian thinks, in voiceover, that it seems that it’s not so hard to go back to the old days. Uh...ok.

Except he’s hiding a massive secret and these replacement kids are not the same juniors he used to hang out with, and he can’t actually teach them cultivation, since he has no socially-acceptable magic power, and everything is about to go to shit in the next episode. But you gotta take your joy where you can, I guess.

Note: There are a lot of questionable effects in The Untamed, but there are also beautiful scenes like this one, which looks like a Maxfield Parrish painting. Compare with the BTS below and you can see what a good job the VFX team did in bringing this lake to life.

#the untamed #cql #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

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elysicndrcvm · 4 years

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━♡ guess the 23 YEAR OLD FEBRUARY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because CHU EUNHA is just as BEDAZZLING as the month of FEBRUARY. wait, why do they remind me of JACOB BAE? beyond that, they seemed JOYOUS and SAVVY upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of DELICATE and QUIXOTIC though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX 1 / APARTMENT 0215 / FLOOR 3 ; HE seem(s) to have a lot going on with HIS job as a PATISSERIE OWNER/NUTRITIONAL SCIENCE STUDENT. ( ez, 21, she/they, gmt. )

well hey there !! im ez but you fellow dallyeogers can call me ezzy, i have been in dallyeog before so some may remember me as having someone v different to my new bb i bring u now, i joined before with miss tam carmen !! anygays i return with this lil angel who i am all ‘ i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ’ over already even tho i literally came up with him like two days ago. you can find his pinboard here ( which btw i fuckeN love like he’s so aesthetic to me u go king ) and i made him a lil playlist which u can vibe to here. you can learn more about him under the cut but he’s a super soft-hearted gentle dove of a muse and quite...simple for me ?? sdhdh that’s not the right wording but U GET IT djjflg he isn’t super full of angst or trauma he’s just kinda viBIN livin his best life so that’s fun !! but ye without further ado:

so as u kno from his app he owns a patisserie, it’s his lil babey and he is very dedicated to his craft and makin sure all his ideas for the place and the baked goods he sells are like rlly quirky and avant-garde. like he is so passionate about it u dont even KNOW, he tries to make sure most of the stuff on his menu is something like fun and new u wouldn’t get at just any old patisserie or cafe and that it’s super varied and also kinda aesthetic af? the place is very like trendy. it’s called patisserie d’elysian cause ya know he’s an extra biTCHH and proud.

he has three pupperino’s. all as adorable as each other, snickerdoodle is his golden lab and often ppl shorten it down to snickers, butterscotch is his dapple daschund pup, shortens the name to scotchie often. toulouse is his fancy toy poodle boi, shortens the name down as toto. if u are on the shortened name basis with his pups then u can consider urself one of his close pals.

he’s actually adopted by his aunt but she raised him like she was his mother so that is what he considers her, she’s on his mother’s side but they are half-siblings. in terms of first name reasoning as well she just liked eunha as a name and didn’t even think about how it is traditionally for a female, she liked that it meant gift from heaven so it stuck. his father is still around, he’s just quite elderly so it felt like a better living situation for him to be raised primarily by his auntie. unfortunately his mother has passed on but no tragic story, she just went peacefully in old age.

he dyes his hair quite often, it’s currently like a really pastel blue with black streaks consistently throughout like lil ones so it looks super cool. but he’s also had it be a more electric blue, lilac, and a duck egg kinda faded silvery blue. it’s naturally dark brunette. has brown eyes kind of a hazel hue.

his style is kinda androgynous ig?? he just lives for soft retro fashion, lots of color in his wardrobe but also lots of tapered short and t-shirt fits frequented, sweater vests, rolled up jeans, high skater boi socks, soft jumpers with shirts, shirts in bright colours or satiny texture worn over plain white t-shirts, cardigans, pastel denim jackets, jeans with printed patterns on like clouds, flowers etc, favors yellow and blues. sometimes does eye makeup, occasionally wears heels bc he’s a baddie or super heeled boots/chunky shoes.

obsessed with music, can play violin and guitar. he’s a big mitski and rina sawayama fanatic, likes anything that sounds peaceful or calming or has like a good fun vibe to it. also likes the trademark gay icons like carly rae jepsen, lorde, etc. he’s not ashamed. obsessed with mamma mia movies. but also likes rap which is rlly funny cause its like the bad bitch female rappers only and like he’ll listen to it while arranging his sock drawer or making his bed or something ajdjdj it’s like hype anthems for being a baddie and a hoe and he’s just doing his night sleepy routine adkfkf.

showers, blankets, music, baked goods especially bagels are his happy places.

very much a sensitive lil romanticist, falls in ‘love’ like five times a day, he just likes to giggle and smile around pretty people and admire the artwork hnghdh, he’s like yeARNS though ya know?? like he’s all i will flirt by making prolonged eye contact, i made you a playlist, this song makes me think of you etc. it’s either memes as flirting with him or elaborate love letters u never know what ur gonna get akdkd.

awful sense of humour, loves his friends more than anything on earth except his pups, would fully live in a huge house of just like his pups and all his closest buds for all eternity. likes fruits way too much, enjoys puns about fruits way too much. milkshakes, sushi, orange hues and bus rides are some of his absolute favorite simple pleasures of life. clouds, flowers, salt lamps, the sunrise over the sea, skateboarding, fresh soda, teddy bears, busy street markets, parasols, fish tanks with exotic fish, sorbet, bike riding, polaroids, record players, rain at night against floor to ceiling windows with a fresh steaming pot of tea on the desk beside it and warm fresh sheets from the laundry on his bed, ponds, skateboarding. all little joys in life that give him like the biggest pleasure dopamine hit in the world.

his cousin actually owns a florists so he has flowers just littering his apartment like a lot and it just looks like he has ten million suitors from the late eighteenth century attempting to court him but no all these flowers are from him to him or worse from his aunt djfjg she sends him some for valentines every valentines, pls help him, pls send him flowers.

studies nutritional science and he fucken hates it. do not ask him shit cause he doesn’t KNOW OKAY? he doesn’t understand it either. he took it because he needed something to go alongside the passion for baking that was a real ‘qualification’/job so that is the only reason he’s doing it. no point doing a baking degree after all when he’s already a baker with a business, he’s super young still he gotta keep his prospects open. so YAH. he’d rather be doing culinary arts but eh. nutritional science sounded better and more logic based. the real miracle is he still gets top grades all the time even tho he spends his life like wtf am i even doing is this even legit akdkdk. school is the worst thing in the world for him watch his mood instantly deflate the second its brought up.

despite being a quixotic, he’s a lil afraid of intimacy. like oh god does he love it, those small touches and acts of affection u kno? the subtle things that normally go unnoticed, eye contact, brushing of hands, linking of little fingers, rubbing a thumb, kissing eyelids or foreheads or palms or shoulders in little gentle pecks, back massages and rubs or finger tracing patterns absent-minded, shoulder massages, laying your head on someone’s shoulder or on their lap, knocking knees together, exchanging a small glance only the two of you get before bursting into laughter, smiling into kisses, napping together, having blankets placed over you warm and fresh, or towels put ready like it, someone making you something they know you like a lot. that’s his sHIT. but like he’s terrified still, someone skimming their fingers on his skin makes his breath hitch like he’s a scandalized and alarmingly aroused victorian woman sjdjd. he’s literally still a virgin, he hasn’t even had his first kiss okay my baby is delicate be gentle with him akdkd but he still LIKES PASSION AIGHT kfkf.

real soft spoken, honey tinted voice like i shit u not this boy talks like he’s an angel sent from heavens above to guide you to the paradisaical garden of eden or some shit akdkd. ur gonna fall in love with eunha’s voice before u even fall in love with any other part of him like his adorable beaming smile or stunning eyes akdkf.

has dance parties around his room when getting ready in the morning, listens to bella’s lullaby unironically yes from twilight yes u heard right, bit of a himbo streak sometimes in his obliviousness djfjf. quite silently subtly funny actually much like jacob himself.

he is gay, afraid of driving, cannot do math, blanks out often and he is valid for all of those things. has a collection of cartoon and disney animal movie dvds. has a dream notebook. always has blue painted nails in some kinda shade.

does not enjoy turning in assignments bc he is scared he’ll fail, avoids looking at his grades for weeks after they’re released and hates knowing that they’re out.

cannot dance, dances often. collects vintage stuff esp clothes and mostly sweaters. likes midnight trips to corner stores and fields where he can just lay and look at the stars. makes friends rlly easily but has super bad performance anxiety. cannot ever have a messy room like even the tiniest bit messy. even like clothes being stacked on a chair instead of away.

bakes peanut butter, banana and choc chip muffins (they r called monkey bites normally) whenever he’s super stressed. if u want to cheer him up when he’s anxious or stressed then u should give him french lavender honey, chia seeds and caramelized pear on toast/bagel. it is his comfort food. he fancii when he needs a pick me up. treat urself and all that.

#dallyeog:intro #i'm literally in love with him he's the softest most goodest boi muse i have ever made and i just #im that meme of the samari sword guy with the cat in his arms akfkfk #IVE ONLY HAD EUNHA FOR TWO DAYS BUT IF ANYONE HURTS HIM I WILL KILL THEM AND THEN MYSELF AKKDK

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scullysexual · 4 years

Text

Gone

Chapter One: Goodbye.

Chapter Two: Twenty-Four Hours Missing.

Chapter Three: Death.

Chapter Four: Decay.

Mulder and Scully are ready to take matters into their own hands now and Scully reveals some family secrets.

A/N:Remember that potentially controversial/ooc thing I mentioned for all those in the chat last night? Yeah, it happens in this chapter. There’s a lot I might change about this chapter in the future and a lot I will change in past chapters because of what is mentioned in this. I don’t ask this a lot but since this is still in the early days, I want to make this as good as I can get it, please tell me what you like, what you think works, and what you think doesn’t work, that kinda stuff. I already know partly myself what I need to do and change but any input from you guys would go a long way, as well.

-_-

SUNDAY

Really? Has somebody let the Mulders know?

Dana freezes behind the closed door of the kitchen. Her hand on the door handle, ready to push it open, she stops when she hears her father’s voice on the other side, on the phone. She presses her ear against it, listening carefully.

I’m sorry. That’s really tragic, actually. … Has there been any new information on Charlie? … Of course. I’ll see what I can get Dana to tell me. Thank you, Detective Skinner.

Dana waits she hears the phone be placed back down on the holder before she’s pushing the door open, her stomach her knots about the conversation awaiting her behind this door.

Her father looks up from the stack of papers in front of him as she enters. Dana says nothing, feeling animosity in the air as she heads over to the toaster.

She focuses on her task rather than the emotions running through the air; get the bread, place it in the toaster, pull down the handle.

“Samantha Mulder is dead.”

Her breath catches in her throat. That’s why Skinner was outside Mulder’s house last night.

“Her body was found in the forest Charlie went missing in.”

Dana looks up towards the clock on the wall above her. It’s been a day and a half since Charlie went missing. A day and a half.

The toast pops.

“She was missing for a year,” Dana says, grabbing the toast and dropping it on a plate.

“She’s the same age as Charlie, the same age as this Duane Barry.”

Dana mulls that information over, not realising it before this moment.

“Dana, look at me,” her father tells her.

She turns.

“What were you doing in the forest?”

Dana shrugs. “It’s just a place we like to meet up.”

“And you took Charlie with you?”

She nods.

“Your sixteen year old brother?”

Dana looks away, resisting the urge to roll her eyes and lets out a slow, controlled breath so it doesn’t sound like she’s sighing.

“He plays baseball with Mulder and Ethan sometimes,” she offers as an explanation.

Bill sighs. He looks as though he’s about to say something else before deciding against it. Dana hopes this is an end to the interrogation.

Silence passes and when it feels like this conversation has been put to rest (for now) and her father goes back to his papers, Dana speaks again.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Asleep,” Bill answers. “I checked on her this morning.”

Dana nods, watching as her father rips off pieces of tape and places it on the papers in front of him. From where she stands, she can see the papers read:

MISSING

CHARLIE SCULLY

LAST SEEN FRIDAY BY THE WISHING WELL, 9:55PM.

“How long are you gonna stay?” Dana’s asking, looking up from the posters.

“I’ve been allowed two months,” her father answers, solely focused upon his task.

Dana nods, satisfied with the answer, and grabs her toast, intending on going back to her room with it.

“Dana.”

Dana stops at the doorway and faces her father.

Now looking at her, he says, “I don’t blame you for Charlie’s disappearance. It wasn’t your fault.”

Dana smiles sadly, wishing we could believe it was true.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She waves to him from her bedroom window when he looks up. She watches him head down the street until he disappears out of sight.

She moves away, closing the curtain again and sits back down on her bed.

Mulder’s information about the mine had creeped her out a bit. She didn’t know this town, she hadn’t lived here her entire life like Mulder and Ethan and everyone else, she didn’t know its secrets or barely it’s history.

They agreed to go to the well Tuesday as soon as school finished but Dana was curious now.

She looks to her alarm clock, the red letters screaming 9:47 at her.

A deep melancholy mood sets within her. In seven minutes Charlie would have been missing for 48 hours.

She swallows at that but it hardens her decision to go to the well. She wants answers now. She doesn’t want her brother to end up receiving the same fate as Mulder’s sister.

She heads off down the stairs, grabbing his sneakers and slipping them on.

The door to the living room still remains closed. Dana opens the door slowly. Inside her parents sit in on opposite ends of the couch- her father stares at her mother, her mother stares at a photo. They don’t notice her.

“I’m going out,” she says.

They both turn to look at her. Her mother is stricken.

“No, you’re not,” she tells her. She looks wildly around for a clock before finding the small one on the mantelpiece. “It’s…it’s almost 10:00.”

Dana watches as her mother’s face falls at the realisation. Two day’s Charlie has been missing for.

“No,” her mother says, controlling herself. “I want you to stay in. And…and you’re not going to school tomorrow.”

Dana stands shocked. It’s her final year. She has tests, work that needs to be completed, projects to finish. She only has three months left.

Dana shakes her head. “So what, you’re gonna keep me locked inside for the rest of the year?”

She’s angry now. Angry at her mother’s ineptness, her father’s seemingly lack of care, that three kids have been allowed to go missing and no one’s done a fucking thing about it. She’s angry that she’s being punished for it all.

“Is that what you think this is?” her mother stalks towards her, her own rage palpable. “Your little brother is missing,” she says as if Dana wasn’t aware of that fact.

She nods. “Yeah, and he’s probably dead. Just like Samantha is, just like Duane Barry probably is.”

Dana feels the pain in her cheek before her brain processes her. She stares in brief fear at her mother as Maggie stares back at her, her own fear evident in her eyes as she brings the same hand that she just slammed Dana with to her mouth, lost in the shock of what she had just done. Even her father is surprised.

“Dana, I’m…” her mother begins, trailing off.

With tears burning in her eyes, Dana bolts, ignoring her father’s calls after her. She grabs her keys and is out the door before anyone can stop her.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She doesn’t go to the well. She lets her tears fall and her feet and mind guide her. Her mother has never hit her before. Her mother has never hit anyone before, not even Missy though she’s no doubt been close.

It was the grief, Dana tells herself. The grief and the words said by Dana. She doesn’t know why she said it. Maybe the assumption had been buried deep down inside of her and she just didn’t want to acknowledge it, maybe Sam’s death activated her own fears about Charlie and highlighted that they’re running out of time.

She should go back. Should apologise and say she didn’t mean it. But she can’t. Some unresolved issue with having to be right, to stand her ground even when things go wrong. She can’t go back, not yet.

Her feet have led her to Ethan’s house. She stands outside his gate, her hand on the lock, and stares towards his door. She hasn’t spoken to him since Friday, he stopped calling her telephone. She stares, unable to move. This isn’t the house she wants to be at. So she turns and walks towards the house she does.

Mulder is there, standing in his doorway, confused.

“Can I come in?” she asks, her voice breaking but she doesn’t try to hide it.

“Of course.” Mulder moves out of the way. Immediately her senses are assaulted by Mulder’s house smell and instantly she feels comforted by it.

Mulder shuts the front door behind him. “Is everything okay?” he’s asking. He reaches a hand up to her face when he sees remnants of the now faded red mark. Dana tenses, backing away slightly. Mulder, understanding, drops his arms back down.

“Scully, what happened?”

Dana bites her lip, her hands tangling together. “Can we go to your room?”

Mulder nods, leading her towards a door not far from where they are.

His bedroom is in the basement. The size of a living room, it reminds Dana of a studio minus the kitchen set-up. It’s remained virtually the same since the summer; his I Want To Believe poster is still up on the wall, various photos of assumed UFOs on the pinboard, newspaper clippings, and the like. A new photo has joined, she notices, a picture of him and Samantha when they were much younger. Dana smiles.

“Did something happen at home?” Dana turns away from the photos and the pinboard to see him sat leaning against the arm of the small couch. She walks over to it and sits herself down.

“I was gonna go to the well, but…” She looks down at the floor, the argument seems so stupid now in retrospect. She should’ve just stayed in and went to bed.

“But…?” Mulder is prodding.

“I had an argument with my mom. She slapped me. She’s never done that before.”

Mulder exhales.

“I don’t want to go back home, Mulder.” She tries to keep the begging out of her voice.

Mulder nods. “Do they know where you are at least?”

Dana thinks for a moment. She guesses they could assume she was at Ethan’s but…

“You should call them, Scully,” he says, taking her silence as a no. “They’re already worried about Charlie, they don’t need to be worrying about you, too.”

He hands the phone. Dana looks at it, before looking back at him. She takes the phone and dials her home number.

Her father answers.

His greeting is a, “Where are you?”

“I’m at Mulder’s,” she answers. Mulder walks off towards his wardrobe, allowing Dana some privacy. “How’s Mom?”

Her father sighs. “She wants to apologise. I want you to apologise. You were completely out of a line tonight, Dana.”

Dana looks towards the floor again, nervously playing with the cord. “I know,” she says, grumpily.

“Your mother was wrong to hit you, she knows that, but you were wrong to say what you said.” Dana says nothing. Her father sighs again. “How long are you staying at Mulder’s for?”

Dana looks up as Mulder moves towards her carrying some clothes she thinks are going to be hers for the tonight.

“I’m staying the night,” she says and Mulder nods towards the couch. “On the couch,” she adds. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Bill says nothing against it. He knows his daughter enough to know when she needs her own space to cool down.

“Fine,” he says. “But make sure you’re back tomorrow morning to apologise.” Dana hums in agreement. “I love you, Starbuck.”

A smile tugs at Dana’s lips.

“I love you too, Ahab.” The phone call ends and Dana passes the phone back to Mulder and trading it for the clothes.

“You take the bed, I can sleep on the couch.”

Dana smiles. “I don’t want to rob you of your bed, Mulder.”

But he’s shaking his head. “It’s fine, I find it comfier anyway.”

She continues to smile and heads towards the bathroom. Before going in, she turns. “Thank you, Mulder.”

He smiles back. “It’s okay, Scully.”

She disappears off into the bathroom. During her time in there, Mulder passes in a toothbrush for which she thanks him for.

She turns to the mirror, ready to brush her teeth, in joggers and an oversized T-shirt were she smiles to herself at one thought.

Scully.

She likes it.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

MONDAY

There’s a moment of disorientation. The scent of somebody else wafts into her nose. Her eyes dart open and even with her poor vision, she can see she’s not in her bedroom.

Her hand blindly searches for her glasses on the nightstand, knocking everything else over until she finds them and slides them onto her face. She sits up, a stray curl falling in front of her face, getting tangled in the bridge of her glasses, and Mulder who stares at her from the couch.

“Morning,” he says, cheerfully. Scully glances at the clock on the table and cringes at the time. 06:17. How anyone can be cheerful at this time is beyond her.

“Sleep well?” he’s asking.

Scully yawns, nodding. She did, actually. It was the best night’s sleep she’d had in a while.

“I have to go home,” she says, climbing out of the bed.

“I can walk you back if you want. We can grab bagels.”

She nods, her stomach agreeing with that very much and grabs her clothes from yesterday folded neatly off the chair. She disappears off into the bathroom to get dressed and try to do something with her hair without the use of all her hair products. She gives up, deciding it’s a beanie day today anyway.

When she exists, she finds Mulder ready to go, his backpack beside his feet. He smiles when he sees her.

“You ready to face school?”

Scully hadn’t even thought of that. Everyone was aware that it was her brother that was missing by now. She wonders if it’ll be like what Mulder experienced the school day after Sam disappeared.

She shrugs. “Are you ready?”

His sister was dead after all. What a pair they made.

Scully shivers as she walks, her jacket doing nothing against March’s still cold mornings.

“Cold?” Mulder asks, he was smart enough to wear a coat.

“I’m fine,” Scully says.

They pass Ethan’s house and there’s a moment of guilt when she looks towards it; when she decided she needed Mulder more than Ethan, when she slept in Mulder’s bed before Ethan’s.

“Shit!” Mulder suddenly shouts. Scully’s attention is pulled away from Ethan’s house to Mulder at the exclaim.

“What?” asks Scully, concerned.

“I was supposed to meet with Ethan last night.”

Scully frowns. “Why?”

“He found this number in Duane’s dope bag. Said he was meeting some man and he wanted me to go with him.”

Scully is dumbfounded for a second at Ethan’s stupidity. After everything that has happened- three missing kids, one of them turning up dead and fucking-stupid-Ethan Minette decides to meet with some stranger in the middle of the fucking night. And Mulder agreed to go with him.

“You should have told him no,” she’s saying, doing nothing to let her annoyance at both of them not show. “You should have told him not to go.”

“Well, I did…sort of…”

Scully shakes her head, rolling her eyes, and huffing. She saunters off ahead of Mulder.

“You still want me to wait for you?” Mulder calls as Scully quickens her pace.

“Don’t bother,” Scully calls back, thoroughly annoyed with him now.

She reaches her house and tries to cool off, resisting the urge to look behind her and see if Mulder waited for her regardless of the fact she told him not to.

She doesn’t, however, instead taking in a deep breath and letting it out, letting all her anger and annoyance at Mulder and Ethan out with it. She puts her key into the door and twists.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

It’s a series of whispers. Stares that, once she looks their way, they’re adverting their eyes like they never looked in the first place. Scully had no patience for it. They like to gossip, to huddle around tables and talk about people. It was no different than before, really. Only they were talking about her and her family.

The morning had gone fairly well. She had opened the door and her mother was right there, embracing her, telling her she was sorry over and over again. Scully apologised, too, took back the words she said. Her father had stood near the living room doorway, proud.

Scully had hated it.

She slams her locker shut and spies Phoebe a few lockers down, surrounded by Ellen and Diana.

Scully’s lonely walk to school had given her a chance to think, for her brain to spiral into questions she hadn’t thought of before.

One of those questions involved Phoebe.

Scully walks over to her, intent on getting her answers.

“What do you want, Small?” Phoebe asks once she realises Scully’s standing behind her.

“What we’re you doing in the forest the night Charlie went missing?”

Diana and Ellen look at each other warily.

“I didn’t kidnap your little brother if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Scully crosses her arms, holding up her guard. “I wasn’t. It’s just strange that you were already there.”

Phoebe sighs like she doesn’t like time for this.

“I overheard Ethan and Mulder talking about Duane’s dope. Thought I’d get there first.” She turns on Scully, moving a step closer towards her causing Scully to take a step back.

A smile passes across Phoebe’s face at the action. Scully tries to not let her uncertainty show.

“If you want someone to blame, Dana, why don’t you just blame yourself? After all, I don’t remember you doing much that night other than running away.”

Another question lights up in Scully’s brain.

“What do you remember?” Because she remembered nothing, Mulder remembered nothing.

“I’m done talking to you now.” Phoebe moves off but not before Scully feels a pat on her head. She cringes, ducking away and moving so Phoebe can’t touch her again.

She’s not out of earshot before Scully hears her say, “Weirdo.”

Scully stands there, staring after them, wondering what the point was.

She moves off, intending to walk to her class and not talk to anyone for the rest of the day before-

“Hi, Dana.”

Scully turns to see Monica catching up to her. Scully sighs, not in the mood for a lesson about how being a Pisces is going to affect her future.

“Hi, Monica,” she says anyway, trying to sound a lot more cheerful than she really is right now.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about Charlie. It must be really horrible what you’re families going through right now.”

Scully hums in agreement.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

Scully stops in her tracks at the sight of Ethan walking through the main doors. He looks rough, tired.

“You know, I noticed you don’t have a lot of friends that are girls, and if you ever wanted to come over…” But Scully’s bolting off before Monica gets to finish her sentence.

She leans against the locker next to Ethan’s as he placing his books inside it, fuming.

“What do you want?” he asks, sounding pissed off himself.

“How about to tell you that you’re a fucking idiot?” She crosses her arms and does nothing to conceal her anger.

“Mulder tell you about the guy?” he asks, his own defences coming up.

“Two kids are missing and you’re just willingly going off and meeting strangers alone?”

Ethan slams his locker shut, the action sending vibrations running through the various lockers causing Scully to move away from the one she was leaning on. Those closest to them jump and stare.

“Mulder was supposed to come with but the bastard didn’t show up and I’d hazard a guess to say that he was with you.”

He stares menacingly at her. In his eyes she sees jealously, paranoia, anger and somewhere deep down, hurt.

“You know how many times I’ve tried ringing you this weekend? Mulder said that you needed time but you were happy to spend that time with him, weren’t you?”

Scully swallows, unsure what to say. She still partially blamed Ethan but maybe she should’ve spoken to him after all.

“Mulder understands what I’m going through.”

He stares at her and Scully waits.

Without saying anything else, Ethan walks off, leaving Scully alone.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She picks at her lunch. Sat alone at the furthest end of the table, her fork plays the fries on her plate. She’s not hungry, just fed up, and wants nothing more than to just go home.

She had a meeting with the school counsellor that she didn’t bother turning up for. What was the point anyway? Talking wasn’t going to make Charlie reappear after all.

Laughter drifts its way towards her and Scully looks up to see Phoebe, Diana, and Ellen in fits of giggles, looking at her before looking away.

Scully pulls a face and stabs angrily at her fries. You wouldn’t think they were seniors.

They’re surrounding her all of a sudden. Phoebe directly opposite her, Diana and Ellen to the right side of her. Nope, Scully really can’t be dealing with this.

“I noticed something about you before, Dana,” Phoebe begins. “You have problems with being touched by other people.” Her hand slowly creeps towards Scully’s. Scully is quick to notice and pulls her away. Phoebe smiles, the results of her experiment complete.

Scully never really saw it as a ‘problem’. She just like her own personal space, what was wrong with that?

“One can’t help but wonder you and Ethan have sex.”

The girls beside her laugh and Scully shifts uncomfortably.

This conversation.

“That is, that you’re having sex after all.”

The truth was, no she hadn’t. She never felt any rush to and besides, she and Ethan hadn’t been together for long. It seemed too soon.

She looks down at her plate and Phoebe gets her answer.

“Oh, sweetie…” Phoebe comforts, though Scully can see right through it. “Let me share some womanly advice with you: we got to college next year, nobody’s going to want you if they find out you’re still a virgin after so many years.”

She can see what Phoebe is doing but it doesn’t work. Scully was never affected by peer-pressure. She’d survived the Elementary school bullying when the teacher left the classroom one time and Betty Harris snatched her glasses off her face and threw them around the room, told her to go find them when one of the boys hid them. After enduring the humiliation of walking into everything and a migraine from straining her eyes to see, she found them in the top cupboard broken.

Scully had gone home crying to Melissa that day, saying she wanted new eyes because hers were broken. She never ever forgot the image of Missy pushing Betty against the wall behind the gym saying she would kill her if she ever so much as looked at Dana again. Betty had left her alone after that.

Scully stares at Phoebe, thinking that Phoebe at age seventeen wasn’t that much far off Betty at age seven.

“Hi.”

All four of them turn to see Mulder standing sheepishly at the edge of the table holding his tray up to his chest.

Phoebe turns back to Scully and stands. “I hope you take my advice, Dana.” She leaves, knocking into Mulder on her way past him. Scully thinks she hears Mulder mumble a thanks to her.

“Hi, Fox,” Scully hears Diana say. She watches as Mulder smiles and she smiles shyly back.

“Hi, uh…Diana.”

Scully rolls her eyes and looks away. Mulder notices it.

“What?” he asks, sitting down where Phoebe was just sitting.

She eyes with him subtle rage, still annoyed at him for letting Ethan go meet a stranger on his own.

“What did they want?” he’s asking.

Scully shrugs. “Just to annoy me. What do you want?”

“I came to ask you a favour.”

Scully considers.

“I’m going to see Sam at the morgue after school, Skinner’s taking me. I was hoping that you would come with me.”

She thinks about it. It was no small ask, he knew that. She looks at him, her anger dissipating at the pleading, puppy-eyed look he gives her, one that says that he’ll accept her saying no but he’s going to be sad about it all the same.

It wins her over. She nods. He smiles.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Skinner is waiting for them. She waits for Mulder, wondering if this is really such a good idea after all.

He runs down the steps towards and Scully smiles, exhaling deeply.

“You sure about this, Mulder?” she’s asking.

He looks towards Skinner’s car then back at her, nodding, smiling as if he’s trying to convince himself.

They climb into the car, ignoring the looks they get from students standing nearby.

“Dana,” Skinner says in greeting.

“She’s coming with me,” Mulder says.

They walk down the corridor following a doctor, Skinner just up ahead. Scully looks towards Mulder when they reach the door. Skinner’s offered to wait outside and Scully wonders if she should do that too but Mulder shakes his head, wanting her in there with him.

If she had the option she’d choose to stand outside but this is for Mulder, Mulder is her friend, if he wants her in there with him she’ll be in there with him.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” the doctor asks.

A body- Samantha’s body- lies beneath a white cloth on a metal table, covered in head to toe with the sheet. Scully’s heart beats faster against her chest as she stares at it. God, this is hard for her, how must it be for Mulder?

Mulder nods his head, signally that the sheet is ready to be lifted. Scully holds her breath as the sheet is pulled back by the doctor.

Samantha’s face is revealed. Her skin a blue tinge to it, her eyes closed. She’s been washed, preserved in a freezer for two days now. Scully’s eyes widen. She’s never seen a dead body before.

Below the table, Mulder’s hand is clutching at hers, squeezing tight. She looks down at their entwined hands, then back at Mulder.

His face is emotionless. He just stares at his sister on a table in a morgue.

His sister is dead.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” the doctor says and she wanders off towards the desk.

Tears are now in Mulder’s eyes. With his free hand, he gently strokes the top of her head, the tears now falling silently.

“What happened to her ears?”

Scully had seen that before. It looks as though a mini bomb has gone off in the girl’s ears.

“Her auditory canal looks to have exploded. We don’t have any answers yet.”

Scully looks to Mulder with questions she knows she shares with Mulder but Mulder says nothing, he just continues to cry.

“She’s dead, Scully,” he’s saying through sobs. “She’s really dead.”

The realisation, the truth in front of him, seems to break him and he shatters into a series of painful cries, falling against the table. Scully says nothing, just continues to stare at him with tears in her own eyes, threatening to fall.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Feet dangle next to each other as they sit on the dock. In silence. The events of this evening swirling around in their head.

Scully’s is filled with other thoughts, too, thoughts that she is begging to share with someone.

She glances a sideways look towards Mulder. He’s emotionless again, staring out beyond the water. She wonders if he could deal with her problems tonight.

Her legs bounce. Her hands tangle. The wind blows a cold chill towards them. The world carries on regardless of dead children, missing children, broken families…

“Mulder, can I tell you something?”

Scully stares straight ahead.

“Of course,” he says.

“It’s nothing to do with Sam or Charlie or anything like that.” She chances a quick look at him. “Are you okay with that?” Before turning back out to the lake again.

“Sure.”

Scully sighs, ready to disclose information she’s never had the chance to tell anyone before.

“My parents haven’t slept in the same bed for four years.”

It’s out. The weight that has been lifted from her is enormous. She feels as though she could float away right now.

“I- I didn’t know,” Mulder stumbles out after a bit.

“That was the point. Nobody was supposed to know.�� Her legs swing harder. Anger fills her. It’s all she is now; a bottle of angry and tears ready to spill at any moment. “You ever feel like we exist in one big lie? We’re supposed to act as though we’re happy and everything is fine when we’re really we’re just houses decaying on the inside, dressed up prettily so the first gullible buyer will fall for us?” She breaths out deeply. “I want answers, Mulder. Real answers. About Charlie, about Sam…I’m sick of doing nothing.”

Her eyes are firmly fixed on the lake ahead, the line where the sky meets water.

“Scully…”

She breaks her gaze, turning to Mulder.

“Let’s go to the well.”

He’s staring directly into her eyes, serious. Scully smiles, standing up, ready to do something.

#txf #high school au #gone #chapter 4 #fic:gone #i write

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divineluce · 4 years

Text

Ink About It || Remmy & Luce

Location: Ink Inc.

Notes: Remmy comes in to ease a burden that’s being weighing on their mind. Luce both helps and attempts to hurt.

Remmy had a secret. It was nestled on the back of their left shoulder, and it was a simple tattoo. It listed the names of their squadmates, in order of rank. And their dog tag numbers, with a circle around them. Simple, easy. If one of us dies, we all get the name crossed out. It was a little morbid, really, but they’d all been young and dumb. And doing this had felt like it brought them closer together. It was supposed to motivate them to all stay safe. To remind them that they had people to look out for, other than themselves. And to carry their memories on their back, always, even if they were gone. But Remmy had never gone back to get it finished. The thought of getting all their names crossed out felt...too heavy. They wanted a better way to remember them, to commemorate them. To move on from their loss. But they couldn’t figure out what they wanted to do with it, the list of names on their shoulder. Like a laundry list of all the things they’d done wrong. All the people they’d let down. It was time to change that. Breathing in-- a still comforting gesture, despite the lack of need-- they went up to the parlor doors and pushed them open. The little bell ran as they entered and they glanced up, before looking back inside. They hadn’t really planned on coming here so abruptly, but acting on impulse was something Remmy was trying to do more of. It was time to get out of such a regimented lifestyle, stuck in military time. There was someone at the front desk, a woman, looking a little bored and a little distracted. “Um, hi,” Remmy said as they scooted up to the counter, “I um...I don’t have an appointment or anything, but like, I was hoping to maybe talk to someone about uh, an alteration. To an existing tattoo. If that’s, if like--” they paused, “if that’s okay.”

Rolling a pencil across her fingers, Luce looked at the clock. Fucking hell, it’d already been 40 minutes. She was calling it. “We gotta no show. Again.” She said, poking her head out of her room. Leave it to Dario to schedule another flake for her, christ. Which meant she’d come in for nothing. At least she’d had time to work on a few designs of her own, but this was getting frustrating. She was trying to make money here, and fewer asses in the chair meant less money in her wallet, simply speaking. At least she was gonna be making money off her cabin. Her sweet, amazing, beautiful cabin… that her mom had forced her to move out off. Resting her head on her hand, she looked at her sketchbook for a second, contemplating the design she’d been working on for the new girl to the coven. What was her name? M- something. Melissa? Mallory? Morga--Morgan. Yeah, that’s the one. As she worked on the preliminary sketches, the little bell over the door rang out and she heard someone talking nervously with the receptionist. Popping her head out the door, Luce walked out to the main area of the shop. “We take walk-ins. And it’s your lucky day. I’m Luce,” She stuck out a hand, “What are you looking to get done?” She asked.

Remmy startled slightly when someone came out of the back room and over to the front desk. “Oh, hi! Hello, I--” they paused, taking in her sight. She was oddly familiar. Long, dark hair, that looked almost as dark as the night outside. Piercing eyes. Tattoos up each arm. A tank top that dipped a little lower down her sides than usual, and pants that were...form fitting. Remmy felt their throat close up. “Ye-eah. Yup. I’m lucky! I mean-- I’m Remmy. I mean, I’m here for a tattoo. Well not a tattoo, I already have one. I want it like-- uh, altered? I need it-- yup. Altered. That’s what I’m here for. Right now. Um...Oh!” They finally reached out to take her hand, noticing that it was warmer-- kinda like Bea’s-- before stepping back a little. “Are you the artist? Do you like, um-- I...don’t really know how this works. Sorry.”

Eyebrow raising as the person began to stumble through their words, Luce nodded. Another nervous nellie. Which, given her own sister’s fear of needles, not an entirely inaccurate saying either. As they continued to ramble on, Luce realized that they were saying something that sounded familiar-- the whole, altering thing. Talking about it like tattoos were a jacket or something. “I think we might have talked about this online, actually. Good to meet you in person. And, you lucked out, Remmy. Because I’ve got a solid 4 hours free.” She said with a slight grimace. Fucking cancellations. She was willing to bet it was probably some guy who got too drunk last night and missed his appointment while nursing a hangover in Al’s. “I’m not the artist. That would be Ulfric, he owns this place. I’m one of the artists who works here consistently. Me and Rory, a handful of others. Come on, let’s talk shop in my workspace.” She said, gesturing for them to follow her back to her private room in the shop. It was a neat and organized place, with a few shelves that had a couple candles, a polished citrine crystal, and some of her artwork hanging on the walls. A pinboard with a bunch of pre-made design stencils filled one wall, the prices written on the corner. “So,” Luce said as she slid into her chair, opening her laptop, “What am I working with and what are you thinking?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Remmy said, trying to recall the conversation. Their thoughts had jumbled that night, after learning about Blanche’s house exorcism gone wrong. But that was in the past and everything was okay now. They could take this time to focus on them, and just them. And not the very attractive person who was now saying things. Things Remmy should probably listen to. Tuning back in, Remmy nodded. “Right, yeah! Let’s-- yeah.” They followed Luce back to her station, eyes wandering. Landing on some of the charcoal drawings hung up on the walls. “Did you do these?” they asked, leaning in a bit closer, but keeping a good distance. They knew not to touch other peoples’ art. They looked almost like some of the things Remmy doodled. Lots of shapes and straight lines. Remmy liked drawing buildings and objects. Things that a calculated mind could easily recreate. They turned back to face her, unsure of where to sit, shuffling around. “Uh, it’s-- I can sh--” they started, but stopped. Showing her meant taking their sweater off. It meant showing someone their tattoo for the first time since they’d gotten back. It was usually always covered. “It’s on my back. It’s um...some names, in a circle. And uh, dog tag chains.”

“I did. Clean lines and geometric work are kind of my thing.” Luce said, tilting her head to the stencils on the wall, “But, I’m also good at a lot of other styles. American traditional, Japanese traditional, black work, you name it, I can do it. I draw the line at new school. I don’t do bubbly graffiti art.” She grimaced. She hated that oversaturated shit. Watching as they looked over the art on her walls, Luce leaned back in her chair, amused. Maybe they were an artist too. Starving artist, by the looks of their clothes. But, that was how it went sometimes. Watching the way they fidgeted, Luce pointed at one of the chairs by the door. “Have a seat. Please.” She added. Maybe the politeness would help their nerves. As they described their tattoo to her, Luce fought to keep her expression neutral. But still... Dog tags. Luce wasn’t a stranger to doing military tattoos and if someone wanted a tattoo with names and dog tags altered? That meant some big shit must have gone down. “Mhm. Okay. What are you thinking about doing with them?”

“Wow, they’re really good,” Remmy said with a genuine awe. They always wondered how people could make such great things, out of their own minds. Glancing back at Luce, they nodded quickly. “Right, yeah. Sit. Okay.” And fell into the chair quickly, stumbling only a little. They looked at her, then down at their shoes. They should’ve worn nicer shoes. And nicer pants. And...not a weird baggy sweater. Remmy smoothed their palms down their thighs before looking up at her again. “Uh, oh. I mean...I don’t really know. What I want to do with it. Just that...I want it to feel better. Um-- sorry, that doesn’t make sense. I mean, I want it to not be...what it is. What it represents? I want it to be...a good thing. Not--” a representation of death. Remmy bit their bottom lip. “I was kinda hoping someone else could help like, figure it out? I’m not all that creative, really. Better with the like, looking at something and drawing it side. Like buildings! And cars.”

“Thanks.” Luce said with a wry smile. Not that she doubted that Remmy meant it-- if anything, she had a feeling they were very serious in how they felt about her works. But, there were still flaw with her art, still discrepancies here and there. Crooked lines, pieces that didn’t fully work as a whole. She kept the art mainly as a reminder that there was always room for improvement. Swivelling in her chair to face her client, Luce listened as they rambled their way through their thoughts. And the way that they petered off at the end of their sentence confirmed her suspicions. This tattoo, it carried weight. It carried baggage. And this person literally had a burden that no one else could understand, weighing down on their shoulders. “Okay. So, what I want to know is, do you want it covered up? Or do you want it changed in a way that it’s still visible and still a part of you. Because those are very, very different things. People like to say that art is just art, but there’s more to it.” Luce said, pausing for a moment. “I’m not a therapist, won’t claim to be one either. But this is some heavy shit, I’m guessing. And I want to make sure you’re making the right decision, for present and future you, with this.”

“The second one,” Remmy said quickly, “definitely the...second one. I don’t want it covered up. I--” like it? No. That wasn’t quite the right word. Remmy had always been bad at finding the right words. “--need it.” Want it, even. They subconsciously reached back, fingers pressing where the names were under their sweater. Their eyes fell back to their shoes. They really needed new shoes. “It’s-- it’s not that big of a deal, really. It was just, like, stupid kids making a stupid promise to each other. And I...want to honor the like...thought behind it. Maybe not like, what it represents, what it came to be but like...what we wanted them to mean. What it should mean.” They dropped their hand, plucked at a loose string. “Sorry. I um...I’m really bad at explaining things.”

Oh boy. Luce hadn’t been wrong about this tattoo having a lot of baggage behind it, if they were this uncomfortable talking about it. Watching the way they averted their eyes, the way they reached for a spot on their shoulder, Luce folded her arms across her chest contemplatively. On the one hand, this seemed like something that might be out of her depth. On the other hand… she loved a challenge. And they seemed like a good person, just a bit lost. Nothing like getting an old piece refreshed to help the soul. “It’s all good. And hey. It’s something that’s got a lot of meaning to you clearly. Both then and now. So. Honoring the people you served with. I can get behind that.” She said, mulling over some ideas. It would all depend on the placement of the tattoo, of course. “I’m gonna close the door, give us some privacy so you can show me what you’ve got. I kinda need to know what I’m working with.” Luce explained.

“Oh, good, cool,” Remmy said, smacking themself internally for how stupid they sounded. “Now? You need to-- yeah. Okay. Um-- yeah. Okay! I can...do that.” They watched her close the door and shuffled in the chair a little. They waited until Luce was sitting again before tugging their sweater off, thankful they’d decided to put their binder on today instead of just using the wrap. “It’s uh,” putting the sweater aside, they turned so that their left shoulder was facing Luce better. “Back here,” pointed at the spot, “kinda covered, I can...move it.” Under the fabric was a simple tattoo: four names, each surrounded by the outline of a dog tag. Like a list, almost. Calvin Lancer, Lieutenant. Jeremy Andrews, Second Lieutenant. Ken Johnson, Private. Darius Mulberry, Combat Medic. All in a row down their shoulder, an almost mechanical tattoo. They glanced up at Luce, wondering what she could have thought about it. If it was savable.

Giving them space, Luce settled back down in her chair and politely waited for them to show her the tattoo. The flash of the binder wasn’t too surprising, they seemed pretty androgynous. But, never hurt to be clear. “Real quick-- preferred pronouns? And, if I’m down to do this tattoo, are you cool with me being your artist? We’ve got male tattoo artists as well, just putting that option out there.” She said. The worst thing a tattoo artist could do, besides fuck up a tattoo, was make their client uncomfortable and she didn’t want to do that at all. As she took in the very basic, nondescript tattoo, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. The implication of getting this altered was very, very real to her. “I see. And you’re looking to get something to honor them.” She said mulling the tattoo over. She could think of something already. Maybe adding chains that linked them together? Or some kind of decorative outline? “I know you said you’re not good at creative stuff-- I call bullshit on that, by the way. What kind of things do you like, visually, to look at? That could give me a good idea of what to do, what options I have.”

“Preferred--” Remmy started, confused, then stopped. They still weren’t used to the question and although it came as a surprise, it felt nice, too. To be seen this way. They gave a little shrug. “Uh, just...they. Um, thanks. No! You-- you’re fine. I prefer women.” Paused. “I mean like, for this!” Paused again. “But not that I don’t-- it’s, uh--” snapped their jaw shut. They were rambling again. “Sorry! Sorry. I get uh-- a little nervous.” They should’ve brought Moose, but they weren’t sure he’d like it here, with all the small noises. They watched Luce examine the tattoo, glancing down at their feet again, hands wringing together. “Oh, um, I’m-- I’m really not. Creative. Or like, good at it. Being creative. I just like, you know, looking at nature. And airplanes. I don’t know why, they always look cool to me. Like...I can’t believe someone built this. Of course it’s like a lot of someone’s, but like, someone saw it in their head and designed it and made it real. And like, mechanical things, I guess? I like um, shapes, you know? Like you were saying, that you do. Um...geometric stuff?”

Listening to the way they rambled on, Luce resisted the urge to smirk at them-- if they weren’t a client, she definitely would. But, they were probably just nervous at the prospect of the tattoo alteration. It was a big step, it seemed. And she was going to be here to help them through it. “Noted. On all accounts.” She said with a reassuring smile. “And don’t worry, everyone gets nervous, even if they don’t admit it.” As they began to talk about what things they liked to look at, the things that interested them, Luce pulled out a physical binder of her portfolio and handed it to them. “Why don’t you take a look through this while I do a rough sketch of what I’m thinking? See if anything catches your eye.” Her brain was already churning with ideas for how she could make this tattoo something that wasn’t just a burden, but something… commemorative. A legacy to the bonds of-- hm. That was an idea. Booting up her tablet, she began to do a rough sketch of the dog tags that already existed, and then began to add her own details. Chains, snaking from each tag, coming together, intertwining and then. She glanced over at her client, pursing her lips. It was worth a shot. Luce added another dog tag connected to the four other tags by the winding chains.

Remmy took the binder gratefully and started flipping through it, awed by all the designs she had in there. “You did all of these? They’re...incredible…” Looked up for a moment. “Oh, well, like-- I think I kinda get um-- extra nervous. Especially like, around, well...um.” Cleared their throat. “My friend keeps telling me I need to stop apologizing so much, too…” they trailed off, biting their bottom lip, looking at Luce, then back down at the binder. “Harder to do than it sounds.” After all, Remmy had been apologizing for their existence almost their whole life. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to know that...Sorry. Dammit.” Gave a half chuckle. “See?” They flipped the page and something jumped out to them. It was familiar, it looked sort of like the design they’d seen it on some of the memorabilia their uncle had back home. “Oh, hey-- I kinda like this? It looks kinda like um...that knot thing...celtic knots?” they said, raising the binder to try and show Luce.

“Yup, I did. I’ve been tattooing for 5 years officially, so I’ve got a nice little collection of pieces to show off,” Luce said, eyes still focused on her draft. Mm. That line looked weird. And those chains were off. Switching between reference pictures, she began to add more detail to it, just to give a clearer idea of what she was going for. “Apologize, don’t apologize, all that matters is you’re true to yourself.” She said with a shrug. “But, you’re good. Consider this an apology free zone.” Luce said with a grin. Swiveling around in her chair, Luce looked over at the picture they were holding up. Celtic knots. “Good choice. Those are symbolic of friendship, love, eternity, depending on the one. There’s the Sailor’s Knot, which is more indicative of friendship and the bonds forged tightly. And there’s also the Shield Knot, which is one of enduring protection.” She said, pointing to the two different designs. “Which speaks to you more?”

Huh. That was a weird thought. Remmy nodded. Deirdre had said something like that, too-- just be true to yourself. It was hard, though, to act on that advice when Remmy didn’t know what their true self was, besides dead. They pushed the thought away. “Thanks,” was all they said, a little quieter, before setting the binder down, and looking at the two Luce had pointed out. “I think...the shield one. I like the sound of that one.” Enduring protection. Maybe they had failed their squadmates, but that didn’t mean their memories couldn’t stay to protect Remmy. To remind them that they were never alone. Yeah, that was it, wasn’t it? That’s what they needed. That reminder. It’d been the reason they’d gotten the tattoos, after all, in the first place. “Definitely the second one,” they said more confidently, finally looking Luce in the eyes. It only lasted a second, but they were able to give her a nod, before dropping their eyes back to the binder.

“For sure. And I meant it, you know. Like, my whole job revolves around being true to yourself. Tattoos are reflective of the people who have them, no matter what they are.” Luce said with a firm nod. Her job had allowed her to find her own voice, to speak her mind, and be honest with who she was. And it had been a very long and difficult lesson to learn, but ultimately rewarding. “The shield should work well with what I’m thinking. Give me a bit and I’ll show you the rough draft of what I’ve got. Obviously, it’ll take me more time to get the final design done, but it shouldn’t take too long.” She said. When they looked up and met her gaze, Luce was pleasantly surprised by the determination that she saw there. “You’ve got great eyes, by the way.” She said as she turned back to her design, erasing the original entanglement of chains and pulling up a reference for the shield knot. “Just an artistic observation, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah, that-that makes sense. I mean...I just kinda figured I’d do it cause it was like, a group thing, we all promised we’d do it,” Remmy said, their mouth once again getting ahead of their brain.”We were kinda young and dumb at the time, though. I don’t think any of us put much thought into it…” They slowed, stopped talking again. “Oh, that’s fine! Yeah, um...take your time. I know I kinda like, sprung this on you. Sorry about that.” They scratched the back of their head, feeling their cheeks grow hot a moment. “I-- great eyes? Do you mean like, for the knot? Cause, like, technically I just liked it cause my Uncle had it around his place a lot. Like, as a symbol? On pictures and like, letterheads. And-- that’s...that’s not important. Sorry.”

“Even if you didn’t, it’s still representative of who you were at the time. Young and dumb isn’t how I’d classify it though,” Luce said as she filled in the intricate loops and connecting lines of the celtic symbol. “You all cared about each other enough to go all in on something like this. That says a lot.” In the brief lull of conversation, Luce began to erase some of her guidelines and added some chain detailing to the shield knot. “Don’t apologize, you’re giving me something to do. It’s my job.” She nodded. Leaning back from the screen, she looked at the draft, frowned, and then began to erase some of her lines. She didn’t like how the chains fed in, if she fixed it here… Better. “I meant you have great eyes. Very nice color.” She said, “No, keep talking. It’s interesting, gives backstory to the piece.”

Remmy didn’t comment on Luce’s observation. She was probably right, but Remmy didn’t want to think about all that right now. They’d just gotten through a big episode of grieving them, crying on Morgan, crying with Skylar, yelling at Blanche...they just didn’t want to think about it anymore. Blinking, Remmy looked up, trying to refocus on the conversation. “Huh? Oh, uh-- I mean...yeah, okay. If you say so.” They picked at a spot on their jeans again, cheeks turning warm. “I, uh-- oh. I do? I mean...thanks? Thanks. I mean thanks. You have nice eyes, too.” Oh, that was weird to say. “I mean pretty eyes! I mean, they look nice! Like...they’re also a nice color. They match your hair, too, and it’s, you-- kinda remind me of someone but like, you have a really pretty face.” Remmy clenched their jaw shut. “Fuck. Sorry. I ramble. So much. A lot. I say stupid things cause like my mouth gets ahead of my brain and I don’t think things through, um-- sorry. Anyway...yeah. My Uncle. He was Irish. So was my mom, I guess. But, like, my Uncle was really into the whole, heritage thing. Showed me what clan we were from and all that. Had our uh...special what it is, like...flag? Or um, crest? On some stuff. And a stamp of it. For letters and letterheads. He gave it to me, but I think I lost it in the move....”

“I do say so, yeah.” Luce said, leaning back to stare at the image for a moment before going back in to get the lines just how she wanted them. She wanted the new dog tag to stand out… Hm. Selecting the image, she rotated it ninety degrees so it was horizontal rather than vertical. Nice. That was more what she wanted. “Thanks. I like to think I’ve got a nice face.” She said, choosing to ignore the comment about her reminding them of someone. They probably meant Bea. Or Nell. Or even her mother. Ugh, not what she wanted to think about right now. “Like I said, talking gives background and meaning, so ramble away.” Listening to them as they talked about their family, Luce added in a few more lines until she was satisfied with the draft. “That’s cool that you’ve got that kind of family background. Who knows, you might find the stamp sometime. Now. How’s this look, just as a rough idea?” She asked, taking her laptop off the desk and bringing it over for Remmy to look at.

Remmy watched Luce with curious eyes as she scratched away on her tablet. They’d never seen anyone use them before, and they’d always wondered how they worked. “Oh, uh, okay. Usually people tell me to stop talking. It’s a bad habit sometimes.” Finally, Luce finished and came over with the laptop. Remmy’s eyes lingered on it, but it didn’t entirely register until they saw the new tag Luce had added. It had their name on it. Intertwined with the knot and the other tags. Remmy didn’t know what to say for a moment. “I-It…” they stuttered a moment, “Yeah. I mean-- yes. Or, it looks great. Perfect. It’s…” they grew quiet. “Perfect.”

“Most people are also assholes.” Luce said bluntly. “You can speak your mind, there’s nothing wrong with it.” She’d spent most of her childhood keeping her thoughts to herself, overshadowed by Bea at first and then by Nell. It had been easier to fade into the background, considering that Bea was the family’s pride and joy and Nell the on-going problem child. But, her job had shifted that perspective, made her realize her thoughts had merit. When Remmy gave their approval, she nodded once. “I’d hope it’s not perfect, this is just the first a draft. Give me a bit and I’ll get the finished product done and we can get to work. Just a heads up. You’ll have to have your binder off for this and you won’t be able to wear it for the rest of today. If that puts you in a bad headspace, we don’t have to do this. You can come back whenever you’re ready.” She said with a nod. “Just want to let you know.”

Remmy shrugged. “Oh, no, I-I don’t think they’re assholes, really. I...I can be a lot sometimes. I get that. Some people just can’t, like, handle it. It’s fine. I don’t mind.” They shifted in their chair as Luce explained the rest of what needed to happen. “Yeah, no-- of course. Not like, perfect perfect. But perfect as in like...perfect design? It-- it’s great. I could never-- I would’ve never been able to come up with something like that. It’s amazing, that could do that, just from, you know...me talking?” They looked down at their lap, hands wringing tightly. If they left, they knew they would never come back. Remmy shook their head. “No, I-- I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I wanna do it today. Let’s-- can we do it today?”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged as she settled back into her chair, laptop back in place on her work table. Luce stretched her hand out for a moment before going back in on her tablet, making a new layer and beginning the cleaned up version. “Hope you don’t mind if I throw on some music, helps me focus.” She said, as she opened up Spotify and let some blues inspired rock and roll play in the room. The image began to flow from her fingertips, the lines appearing in time to the ebbs and flows of the music. The pounding bassline gave her the solid, clean lines of the new dog tag, the intricate guitar solo forming the celtic shield knot. Piece by piece, note by note, the tattoo came together. Erasing the last couple stray lines, Luce hit the preview button and walked back over to Remmy, flexing her hand slightly. “Anything you wanna change? Speak now or never.”

Remmy gave a nod. “No, that-- that’s fine.” They stayed sitting for the most part, as Luce began drawing up the final draft. They were impressed she was able to get into the zone so quickly, and that she could just...make something like that, from her mind. After a bit, they stood and shuffled around the room a little, looking at all the drawings she had hung up around. The intricate lines, the attention to details in each of the pictures, it made Remmy wish they could do something like that. The only person they’d ever shown their stuff to was Nate. He’d said it was good, but Remmy figured he was just being nice. Their stuff was just observational, they could never do anything like this. When Luce finally finished and came back over, Remmy turned to look at what she’d come up with. “Oh, woah! No way! That’s amazing! I love it. It’s perfect. Like, for real this time. Perfect perfect.” They paused. “Really.”

A genuine smile spread across Luce’s face as she watched Remmy take in the design. The way their face lit up, she knew she’d nailed it, even before they’d answered. Fuck yes. Nothing beat that kind of reaction. This, this was what she loved about her job. The art, yes, but seeing people love something new about themselves? That was special. Of course, she’d never tell anyone that. “Excellent. I’ll need you to take off your shirt and binder so I can get the stencil on there and then we’ll be ready to go.” She said, as she began to print out a couple different sizes of her design, just to see what would work best. While her printer began to spit out the stencils, she pulled out fresh needles for her machine, wiping down the leather of her chair with solution, and grabbing the ink she needed from her large rolling toolkit of supplies. With her back to Remmy, she spoke over her shoulder. “You can either lie down or stay standing while I put the stencil on. Your call.”

“Oh, uh-- I-I’ll lay down…” Remmy answered quickly, swallowing the lump in their throat. They tugged their shirt off and set it down on the chair they’d been sitting in before, folding it up neatly, military style-- It was a habit they still hadn’t been able to break-- before reaching down to remove their binder. Hands shook only slightly as they folded it up as well and set it on top of their shirt. It was somehow both terrifying and reassuring knowing that their body still looked the same, even after dying. Blocking the thought from going any further, Remmy went over to the work chair and sat. They were really doing this. Drawing in a soothing breath, Remmy closed their eyes a moment. This would help. This would help them move on. All of them. Letting the breath go, Remmy turned around and laid down. “Ready,” they said, only a tinge of nerves in their voice.

Luce waited until Remmy gave her the all clear before turning around. It took a few tries to get the stencils lined up properly-- that was the trick of altering a pre-existing tattoo. She had to make sure that everything looked cohesive and coherent, so that it didn’t look like two tattoos smashed together, but one complete image. Making sure all the chains lined up, she stepped back, getting a good look at it from a bit away. She wanted the tattoo to still be legible even from a distance. The spacing looked good, everything read well. Excellent. “Alright.” She said as she pulled on a pair of gloves and set up her machine, “We’re gonna get going, just let me know if you feel light headed or need a break. You can talk to me or just zone out, whatever helps you out.” She said, switching the tattoo machine on before dipping the tip in the ink and setting to work.

Remmy kept quiet as Luce lined up the stencil. They could feel the paper against their back, the slight touch of her hands, and wondered if she had cold hands like them. Or maybe warm hands, like Nell and Bea. It was a weird thing to wonder, but Remmy noticed they’d started wondering that more about everyone they met. Finally, the needle flicked on and Luce sat beside them. Last time, Remmy remembered it hurting a little bit, but even back then, they’d been pretty good at withstanding pain. It was an old feeling, to them. “Oh, yeah...will do. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” they gave a thumbs up and a small smile. “I’m good with pain.” Didn’t even feel her start working. Didn’t even flinch.

Focusing on her work, Luce began to make the outlines, her strokes long and precise. She took care to apply even pressure, shifting with the slight curve of their shoulder as the machine hummed in her hair. But, after the first few brushstrokes, she could tell something was off. How could she not? As she wiped away excess ink with a paper towel, Luce was startled to see the skin she’d just tattooed looking… whole. Complete. As though the ink she’d just put underneath it had been there for at least a month, if not longer. “What--” She started to say, but quickly changed the words, “What made you decide to get this altered? It looks like you’ve had it for a while.” Luce said, making conversation as her eyes remained laser focused on the bizarre image before her. With every swipe of her machine, the buzzing hum, and wipe away, the image remained the same. A healed tattoo. What the fuck? Whatever Remmy was, they weren’t human, they couldn’t be.

Remmy stayed silent as Luce began her work. The thought that anything weird would happen didn’t even cross their mind. They could feel like buzz deep in their chest, but not the pain of the needle. Only the pen, drawing lines across their skin, like their skin was canvas made specifically to pain upon. Remmy had always loved drawing all over their arms as a kid, even their legs, even in school. Sitting bored and alone, they’d turn any piece of showing skin into a continuous line of doodles. Mostly just straight lines and zigzags, swirls and shapes. Luce paused a moment and Remmy stiffened. Was something wrong? “Wha-- oh, um...I’ve had it a couple years but I…” they tried to relax, hands unclenching. “It just felt right? It felt like it was time, I guess. To let them...to let it go.”

As Remmy talked, Luce continued to tattoo their shoulder, still frowning. What the fuck was this person? Their skin felt normal, at least, as far as she could tell. Were they a hunter? Hunters healed quick, she knew that much. Or some other kind of weird creature. She knew just from hanging around Ulfric that werewolves healed quicker than most, but this was like an instant thing. Weird. Definitely weird. But, it honestly made her job a little more interesting, a little faster too. “Mhm. Makes sense. Give yourself closure, but honor them.” She said, as she continued to add base outlines. The lines were coming quick and easy, the ink taking to the skin without problem. And it really didn’t seem as though the tattoo was bothering them-- usually people would flinch a little bit, even if they tried to stay still. “What do you do around town, Remmy?” She asked, making conversation.

“Yeah,” Remmy repeated quietly, “closure.” They knew that altering a tattoo wasn’t going to magically make everything okay, but it was a step in the right direction, right? It had to be. They knew if they could just put this all behind them, everything would be okay. If they could just stop thinking about what had happened. If they could just remember. “Oh, um-- I’m an overnight security guard, mostly. I help my friend around his office, too, for a little extra cash,” they said, remembering they needed to message Nate soon, see how he was doing in all this eternal night stuff. Hoped he was staying safe. “He owns his own architecture firm. It’s pretty neat! He’s a little nervous, though, so I take care of his chores and stuff around town and the office.”

“Night shift security guard and odd jobs? You must drink a lot of coffee.” Luce commented as she finished the last few outlines, completing the new dog tag that would be connected with the others. The shoulder wasn’t a spot that usually bothered people, but when you were working over and over, people tended to at least feel it. And Remmy wasn’t even reacting. Weird. Maybe they just had dead nerves or something? She’d tattooed over scars before, tattooed people who’d been through shit. Maybe that’s what this was. But, why the fuck were the lines healing over so quick? “Nice. Must be nice working for an architect, what with you saying you like buildings.” She said as she added some basic shading.

“Well, the overnight thing is only part time,” Remmy commented. “Plus, I don’t really sleep a lot anyway...gotta do something with my time, right?” They almost shrugged, but stopped themselves. Moving was probably a bad idea. “Oh, yeah! It’s great. I like looking at his stuff. He does a lot of environmental and green design, it’s really neat to see. I never really knew that was a thing till he showed me.” They smiled at the thought. They loved looking at Nate’s stuff and could only wish they could do something like that. “I dunno. I guess I just really like, like..geometric things? Like shapes and lines and tessellations stuff. They just...make sense in my head.”

“Got insomnia or something?” Luce asked, leaning back to take a good look at her handiwork. It was coming along a lot faster than she thought it would. Damn. “Hm. That’s pretty cool. I’m no architect, but I can respect environmental design.” She didn’t know shit about what went into designing a house like that, but it was cool that there was someone in White Crest who did. The designs would probably be really interesting to look at. “Makes sense to you? What do you mean by that?” She asked. The conversation was interesting, but she was mostly asking because it would allow her to be a bit… more intense with her work. She wanted to try something out. Picking a spot that needed to be darker, Luce pressed down, applying just a bit more pressure than she normally would and watched Remmy for a reaction. No matter how macho they were, this would get some kind of response. Most clients acclimatized to the pain and pressure, so if there was a change… they’d notice.

“Something like that…” Remmy mumbled. That’s what the doctor’s had first told them when they’d been in the hospital, but now they were questioning everything about that year and a half alone, recovering. Was anything they’d said true? “It’s super neat! You should check it out sometime. There’s lots of stuff on Google about it.” They turned their head a bit to see if they could see Luce before looking back forward. “Oh, um-- it’s kinda hard to explain? But like...I can like, look at something and know how it all like, works together? Usually mechanical things, or like...um...infrastructure? Or, what do you call the insides of buildings? Uh...foundations! Building foundations. Things with like geometric volumes and stuff. Like I can look at most puzzle boxes and just....know how they work. It’s...I dunno. It just makes sense in my head.” They paused, feeling the increased pressure, but not moving or saying anything, not wanting to mess her up. “How, um-- how’s it going?” they asked after a moment.

“That sucks. I’m in the same boat. Not all the time, but sleeping is,” Luce let out a sigh as she wiped away more ink. “An elusive bitch sometimes.” And moving in with her sisters hadn’t made that any better. At least back in her cabin, she could wander around her house as much as she wanted. She didn’t want to poke her head out of her room and risk running into Nell or Bea in the middle of a fight, so she was stuck in her room most nights. “Don’t move.” She warned, pulling her hand back from their back before resuming once they’d turned in place. Listening to them continue to talk, she squinted in confusion. Was this some kind of supernatural thing? Or were they just super logical? When they didn’t react to the change in pressure, her expression of confusion only deepend. What the fuck. But, when they spoke up, she eased up. “Just had to do some deeper shading. It’s all good. Should be done soon, by the way.” She said

“Oh, I-- I’m sorry. It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” Remmy said back, letting out a little sigh. They’re fingers plucked at a loose thread on the chair. Pausing to hold perfectly still when Luce asked them to, making sure they didn’t mess anything up. They turned their head to rest their cheek against the rest of the chair. Tried to imagine the lines Luce was tracing into their skin, closing their eyes to try and feel the pressure more. Little prickles, but no pain. It felt more like someone was dragging a pencil down their skin. “Oh, uh,” they opened their eyes again, blinking, “no worries! I’m good. But yeah, cool, great! I can’t wait to see it.”

“That’s just how it goes sometimes.” Luce said, eyes focused on the tattoo. The rest of the session went by without any problem, though she still couldn’t figure out why the fuck they were healing so quickly. What the fuck kind of supernatural creature were they? Pushing the thoughts out of her mind, Luce finished up the shading work, kept her hand steady and her pressure nice and light as she got the details just right. And, for good measure, she added the same kind of shading around the original tattoo. She touched up the lines of the dog tags, went over the lettering, and added some depth to the image so it worked with the rest of the tattoo. Shutting off the machine, she wiped off the last bit of ink before standing up. “Alright, we’re all done. Take a look in the mirror and let me know what you think.” Luce said, turning to give them some privacy.

The minutes ticked by slowly, it felt, but in no time at all, Luce was declaring it done. Remmy’s mind had drifted during the lull, thinking back to when they’d all first gotten the tattoos. Darius was originally the most nervous one, and he’d only agreed after Remmy had said they could get theirs together. They’d even held hands during the process, wincing and clenching hands tightly. They were pretty sure he’d bruised their hand but it didn’t matter. They’d done it together. A silent promise. Remmy blinked when Luce finally spoke up again. Shifting slightly, they waited for Luce to turn around before wiping the tears that had gathered behind their eyes and heading over to the mirror, turning to look at it. If it was possible, their breath woulda caught. The intricacy of the design was something to behold. And the way it had turned something so...mechanical into something worth looking at, Remmy could only stare. More tears coming, but they quickly wiped them away again. Now wasn’t the time. “It’s...it’s amazing. You do amazing work,” they finally said, heading back over to their shirt and slipping it on, leaving the binder off for now. They remembered the last time the guy said to not wear anything that would rub for a few days. “I...thank you. So much.”

Luce waited patiently for Remmy to look at the tattoo, taking the opportunity to throw away her gloves and clean up her machine. Silent seconds ticked by, until they spoke up, letting her know that she could turn around. “No worries. Thanks for giving me a cool project to work on.” She said with a nod. It was a better use of her time than just sitting around aimlessly until her next appointment. And she still had time to grab something to eat before she had to get back to work. Grabbing a card and sharpie from her desk, she walked over to shake their hand. “If you ever decide to get another, here’s my card. It’s got a link to my portfolio for you to check out whenever.” Luce wrote down her cell number on the back. “And my number.” Whoever this person was, they were an interesting one. Talking to them outside of work might mean she could figure out what the fuck they were. “Anyways, the gal up front will ring you up, should be about $275.” She said frankly. At the end of the day, job’s a job. And she was getting paid for this.

Remmy took the car gratefully, giving a soft smile. “Thanks! This is great. I’ll definitely check it out and like...let my friends know about you.” They pocketed the card, making sure to keep it safe, looking at Luce. “Um-- thank you, again. It’s-- this was helpful.” They turned to leave again before stopping to look back at Luce. “I, uh-- it was nice to meet you. Really. I hope people stop cancelling on you, cause like, you’re pretty awesome.” They gave a crooked smile before turning to finally head out. “Promise I’ll leave a good tip!” And maybe this had been an impulse, but at least it had been their own decision this time. And maybe it was going to fix everything, but now, at least, it didn’t weigh so heavy on their shoulder anymore.

#p: iai #p: remmy mcallister

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lysnders · 6 years

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❝But plant your hope with good seeds, don’t cover yourself with thistle and weeds.❞ Lysander Scamander, Booboo Stewart, Seventeen, Incoming Seventh Year, Hufflepuff, Genderqueer, Pureblood, They/Them

here are some links: stats page, pinboard, application.

my brain has been replaced by mashed potatoes overnight so this is going to be a mess but! lysander is a mess! i’m a mess! we gotta stay on brand!

okay family background-wise, i won’t set too much in stone because lysander has got a TWIN as we know and i want to be able to Flesh Stuff Out if we ever get a lorcan, but --- i do imagine that life w rolf and luna was really ... free spirited? any impulses lysander might’ve had, any things they would have wanted to do, i can see both of them encouraging it and being very supportive parents just. in every way.

and i think that lysander is very much their parents’ kid. they’re very openminded, very believing and optimistic, creative and interested in nature-y subjects like comc and herbology. i mean, lys is definitely not a carbon copy mix of luna and rolf, they have their own personality, but i think they do definitely remind people of their parents? if that makes sense? i kind of described it well in my app, i think --- i don’t think that the way rolf and luna are shaped lys into who they are today, but i think it allowed them to be who they were. if that makes any sense LMAO.

so lysander grew up happy, tending to their own small garden, painting on dishes and their own skin, trying out musical instruments and giving up on them. it was just a straight up good childhood --- i don’t have much more to say besides that? it was grand. it was good. we stan a good healthy family.

one thing you need to know is that lys is an optimist. i suppose. it’s kind of complicated --- they’re just a fan of looking at the world through rose coloured glasses, to focus on the good, to laugh and be cheerful. some of it is escapism, denial that the world can suck, that there’s so much horrible stuff. some of it is sincere --- lysander does love life, is generally a happy person. it’s how they protect themselves from the bad shit: by ignoring it, focusing on the things that make them feel good, in stead.

it can make them a bit? much? and a bit inconsiderate even? honestly at this point lys is so blinded by their mindset that they probably dont even realise that it’s unhealthy and thus not what other people all do --- because if it was a solid way to live, everyone would do it. and they dont lysander! they fuckin don’t! sometimes you just have to feel bad!

but they’re so much fun. good god. lysander is really a positive force, i think, someone that’s sociable and spontaneous and easy to have fun with. always down for a game of whatever, filled with shitty jokes, a big enjoyer of parties. dances like no other!!!!

lysander loves plants so much, it’s ... ridiculous. a Nerd. they basically have plants hanging all around their bed, go wild when the convo steers to herbology, loves wearing clothes with plant-prints, etc.

i mean, when it comes down to it, theyre just really a hippie. pacifistic to a fault, happy-go-lucky, a bit of a stoner, wearer of funky prints and listener of great freaking music.

lysander is genderqueer, also identifies w the label non-binary. they use they/them pronouns, if u hadnt noticed yet, and HONESTLy theyve been identifying as genderqueer for a long ass time?

i personally hc that luna is nb as well and that the twins were raised pretty gender neutral tbh so i think that that’s how lys found out pretty early on what their identity was --- because there was so much room to talk about it? they’re pretty open about it too

they’re good w gendered words like bro/dude/sis/etc etc btw. they like slang and think those words are a hoot and tbh they use them quite a lot themselves to refer to others as well.

when they wear their hair in a bun they sometimes call it an enby-bun because the concept of the word ‘manbun’ is so fucking ridiculous to them and theyre like *fingerguns* and idk this is a dumb fucking hc but i wanted to throw it in there.

their hair is iconic!!!!

lys works in the junk shop in diagon alley because they did want to Do Something but didn’t want to do something as Ambitious as an internship (also none of them interested them? they want to work in either arts or herbology, not the ministry or hospital so theyre like ... blegh). theyre doing all this stuff w vintage shit bc they love it!!!!!!

i dont know what else to say BESIDES that lysander scamander is an icon! bye!

#holocene intro

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phoenixkaptain · 1 year

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I keep thinking about how often Glamrock Freddy refers to the other animatronics as his friends. And, when he’s talking at the end, he says his friends are there.

This line sticks out to me because Michael never refers to the animatronics as his friends. Nor does he refer to the other kids as his friends. Henry certainly doesn’t consider the animatronics or the kids to be his friends.

The two characters who refer to any other characters as their friends are Charlie and the Crying Child. And Charlie isn’t what I’m focusing on here.

The Crying Child is the only other character in the entire franchise who refers to the animatronics as his friends. Freddy referring to them as his friends feels pointed, especially since Roxy and Monty and Chica don’t refer to each other as friends (as far as I recall).

But also, in the popular theory that the Crying Child is one of two animatronics possessing Golden Freddy, he is the less aggressive one. He’s the one who just hangs out, while his partner does murder and stuff. So Freddy acting primarily as his programming wants him to makes sense, because the Crying Child is a much more passive entity. A much more passive entity who would definitely be more likely to step in only when he senses that his father is trying to take control of Glamrock Freddy back.

“But what about Freddy knowing so much about the security rooms?”

Golden Freddy is always there. He’s always in front of you in the first game, you just can’t always see him. He would know how to work the security rooms. He’s seen it.

But, it also fits in that Golden Freddy and Glamrock Freddy are both G. Freddy.

But what about Gregory?

Well, who do we know who dislikes animatronics? Who do we know who stands up to animatronics on a near nightly basis? Who do we know who would be a bit exasperated to find a Mr. Hippo magnet? Who do we know to be someone who has only ever possessed a form resembling a human?

Michael.

That’s right, I think that Gregory is more similar to Michael. Especially in terms of personality. Gregory and Michael are the only characters (aside from William, and we know where William is) to have a motive to destroy animatronics, and the malice to do so.

“Then why doesn’t Gregory understand the security room?”

Dude, Michael has to have a Phone Guy tell him how to use his own security system in every game. Like, come on, I don’t think it’s that unreasonable.

But anyway, the point of this post is that I think a great twist would be that Gregory was meant to be possessed by the Crying Child, only to get the wrong spirit. Thus why he’s actively running away from Vanessa at the beginning. Thus why he can figure out how to do “maintenance” on the animatronics so quickly (he has experience). Thus why he can figure out the security rooms so quickly (with help).

It was meant to be the Crying Child, and that’s why Vanessa is so upset. He isn’t acting like the Crying Child. He isn’t acting right, he isn’t acting the way he should be. She didn’t expect him to run from her. Which would make sense if she expected the Crying Child, whose go-to response to stress is sobbing on the floor.

But I think Crying Child did possess an animatronic. The only animatronic he’s used to possessing. Freddy. He’s passive, he lets Freddy’s programming do what it wants and only really responds to much at the end of the game, when he needs to.

This is a stupid theory, and I accept that, but something about the idea of William trying to get his sweet little crybaby son back, only to accidentally revive his hellion, is extremely funny. Like Baby trying to revive William, only to accidentally revive William’s hellion.

Michael just has a habit of living on, even as people (his father) are practically begging him not to. And Crying Child has a history of possessing animatronics but not letting anybody know about it precisely because he just passively lets it do whatever. It all makes sense in my head. Of course there are parts that don’t add up, but can’t it be enough that the theory is amusing?

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sarcastic-sue · 2 years

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share your thoughts please!! I wanna know

Hi anon!!! I'm not part of the big brains of the fandom so I won't be able to tell you some deep stuff and the relations and I'm not that good with words too so I'll just write all of my unfiltered thoughts for you :

First thought while watching the mv was wtf wtf wtf is going on cause my video was lagging and the song was playing in the background but the video was frozen 😂😂

Anyways after that I was like fucckkkk this song is dope and I really should've listened to the song before watching mv. It was very overwhelming.

(Placing the rest under cut cause there’s some wild shit )

About the mv:

my first impression was just gender gender gender, because he was chasing after this girl right, and it was so reminiscent of tpwk mv, and he was dancing with her for some time but also had takes when he wanted to hold he but wasn't able too???? Or like she was snatched away from him for whatever reason??? There’s a part where they’re both laying on some kind of art right and people are placing chairs near them which looks line pinboard pins?? My thoughts are in his art(the colourful one) he’s able to express/explore that part of himself but at the same time he’s being separated from her when a new black and white art opens up?? now this can be about different kinds of perspective with which people are interpreting his art in which the colourful ones are the one who understand the message he’s trying to convey whereas the black and white are the ones who choose to ignore it or don’t pay enough attention.

I still don’t know what to think about the girl falling off the record while he’s still stuck and going in circles. ( actually as I was typing this out I had a thought but it doesn’t make sense in this context but i’ll think about it)

The MV has parallels with the walls mv but we already knew that.

The opening scene where he’s behind glass and banging on it, that fucks me up big time, and I just wish people would hear and see what he’s been screaming in his music since forever.

Okay this is not gonna make any sense but the scene where he’s in a coat with a boa and lots of people are passing by, that harry seems like a personification of the fine line era, he blew up with that album and many people became a part of his fandom but also worth mentioning is that they’re not going to stay. They’ll latch onto the next big thing and he’ll fade into the background and nobody will even notice?? Fast forward to last few scenes where he’s standing in the hallway in his red leotard (personification of the new album??) he’s alone, those people who were there during the FL era are not there and that’s when he feels the most free, he’s smiling and dancing. (I would love if some big brains would like to offer their two cents on it)

About the lyrics:

The chorus lyrics have a nostalgia feel to it and almost feels like change by louis but from harry’s pov.

Now brace yourself anon cause I’m about to throw some wildest shit your way.

So the first verse feels like it’s about hl’s time in 1d, verse two about their time when they are away stunting whereas the bridge is so blatantly shading o that I’m amazed that this was the released as the first single.

Can we talk about the bride?? We’re talking about the bridge.

Go home, get ahead, light speed internet

I don’t wanna talk about the way that it was

You have everything available on internet, everything. Just one quick google and you have the whole biography of a person. I think he’s talking about how every part of his live is just a google search away. Could also be about how internet is a big player these days on pushing an image or stunt a certain way. A quick 5 minutes walk with someone is fodder for the internet for several months. (Or a well placed tweet, pictures and videos of a few hours spend with someone on some festival or birthdays is all a game of internet and haunts fans forever but we don’t talk about that)

Leave America, two kids follow her

I don’t wanna talk about who’s doin’ it first

SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. Harr came for this stunt’s throat hahahahahah but let’s talk about the second part of the first line and the second line and let’s connect them with all the recent tabloids fodder we’ve been fed. So you know how they are oh so serious about their “relationship” and that harr has already met the kids (and is the perfect stepdaddy, holivia shippers words not mine) and his family adore the kids?? Kinda sounds familiar (barf bbg barf) if you ask me and I shudder to think the implications of these lines. Anyways I don’t wanna speak it to existence so I’ll stop about it.

ANY WAYS THESE ARE MY ABSOLUTELY UNFILTERED THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS ANON AND THANKYOU FOR ASKING ME SO THAT I COULD FINALLY GET THIS ALL OFF MY CHEST.

#as it was #my thoughts #hs3 #stunts mention

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unwrathful · 7 years

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Title: He’s more than just a NEET Rated: Gen (no pairing) Fandoms: KHR, BnHA Chapter:2/? Summary: To Namimori, Tsuna was a NEET - not in employment, education or training. How he gets away with it at the age of fourteen is anyone’s guess. To the top heroes in Japan, and especially those in U.A., he’s the one who can decide their course in the blink of an eye. How he can manage that on twenty cans of energy drinks and no sleep is anyone’s guess.

For: @tiredsmolhufflepuff, @liquidletti, @scentedgiraffe

Read Chapter 2 on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Tumblr

"Tsuna, my boy," a familiar voice blared through his cell phone as Tsuna picked up.

"What the hell," Tsuna groaned down the line. "I'm sleeping."

"You sleep all the time," All Might noted.

"I'm sleeping because, when you call me, that's when I have time to actually sleep."

"You should organise yourself better."

Like it was his fault, and not All Might's work addiction. Tsuna resisted the urge to scream. "Toshinori," he said, trying to keep his voice controlled. "What is it?"

"I have a public appearance to make," All Might said. "It's on short notice. Thought I'd let you know."

"Where?" Tsuna sat up in bed, rubbing an eye.

All Might named the place, and Tsuna concentrated, frowning and rubbing his chin. "I feel nothing wrong with it. I'll check it out later just in case, but my quirk says nothing."

"That's reassuring," All Might said. "Thanks-”

Tsuna hung up, flopping backwards and sighing. He looked at his clock, groaning. “Only five hours,” he complained, reaching down beside his bed. He groped around in the dark for a bit, found a half-empty can, drained it, then stumbled across his room to get at the light switch. He had been planning on cleaning and reorganising the office to make it easier on himself, but looking at the stacks of paper and the mess he'd made, he felt his will to be clean drain out of him.

He'll deal with that later, he decided. Maybe in a few years, or when it started to smell.

He opened his laptop, rummaging around for a packet of chips. He ripped it open, muttering to himself about how it was the wrong flavour.

When the screen lit up, Tsuna gasped at the sudden light, eyes watering.

"Dammit, All Might," he said reflexively, putting the packet down and slipping on a headset. "I just wanted to sleep in for once."

A crackle, and then: "Did you say something, Tsuna?"

"Nothing," Tsuna grumbled at All Might. "Don't worry." He stifled a yawn. "I'll get the floor plans of where you are."

Sharp taps on the keyboard, and Tsuna stretched out, staring at the plan. He opened up several other windows idly, wondering if he'd sense anything interesting.

"Still not sensing any upcoming battles," Tsuna noted. "You're good-"

A shiver down his spine. Why? He stared hard at the city map, unable to put it on a location.

"Is something wrong?" All Might sounded nervous.

"...It's nothing," he said. "I just saw a rat eating out of-"

"Ah, I don't need to know that," All Might, sounding vaguely ill. The pro hero had stepped into his room only once and had apparently vowed never to do so again.

"Whatever," Tsuna mumbled, fetching a can and cracking it open. "If anything sus happens, let me know, yeah?"

"'Sus'?"

"Suspicious." Tsuna rolled his eyes.

"...You rolled your eyes at me, didn't you."

"No, of course not," Tsuna said, adding an anxious note to his voice. "A-All Might-san, how could you think that?"

"Sorry, m'boy," All Might said, startled.

Tsuna snickered to himself as he reclined, one foot on the seat of his chair, the other spinning him around gently. "Yeah, Toshinori. enjoy your public appearance, or whatever."

"I will," All Might said, and the line went silent. Sighing, Tsuna took off the headset and ruffled his hair. He stood and picked up his jug, padding out of his room to fill it up.

"Tsu-kun," his mother chirped as Tsuna passed the stairs. Tsuna paused and looked down at Nana, waiting.

"Yeah?" He asked when Nana didn't say anything more.

"I was just wondering - are you going to be busy next week?"

"Busy?" Tsuna asked, confused. "Uh, not particularly. Why?"

"No reason," Nana said brightly, waving away Tsuna's inquiring looks.

Tsuna shrugged, entering the bathroom and filling up the jug. Back in his room, he slammed it down and turned it down, slipping on his headset again.

He slumped in his chair, watching the water boil. When it was ready he made his instant ramen-

A jolt down his spine. His quirk screamed at him to pay attention and Tsuna obeyed, turning on his headset.

"All Might," he said calmly. "Are you available?"

"Yes. This meeting was quicker than I expected."

"Is that so," Tsuna said absently, tracing an area in the city. "Turn on your tracker."

"Why-?"

"Do it." Tsuna's tone was enough to tell All Might what was happening. A battle was about to take place.

A pop-up window appeared on his screen with a blinking red dot on it.

"Three blocks to your left," he said. "Now-” He spat out a series of instructions, All Might following each one exactly.

“And...there.” Tsuna breathed out, hearing All Might state his signature line. Another window opened and lines of text scrolled through. Some monster-type villain – whatever. Tsuna's job here was done.

Tsuna turned the microphone away from his mouth. He slurped up his ramen, swinging his bare feet through the air.

“Hie!” He mimicked himself. “I-I promise I won't-”

He paused again, quirk spiking. Ice ran down his spine, pooling like acid in his gut-

And he lost whatever his Hyper Intuition was trying to tell him. Cursing, he set down his bowl and pounded at the keyboard, trying to make it happen again. Tsuna flicked through suburb after suburb, trying to figure out why the fuck he felt like something...unusual was going to happen.

A glance at the clock – shit. It'd been longer than he thought.

“All Might,” Tsuna said, turning the microphone towards his mouth. The sound of wind, and-

“I'm in a spot of trouble,” All Might said, wheezing slightly. “Afraid I have a passenger.”

This is important, his quirk was telling him.

Why? He asked back fruitlessly.

Tsuna flicked on a nearby lamp, striding over to the pinboard. He ripped down a section, grabbing blow-up section of the city map and standing back.

He flicked on the lights, realising this was useless if he couldn't see the damn map. He stood before it, tugging on his quirk and trying to see more. A battle – what battle?

“Was it even a battle?” He asked himself, breaking out of his reverie. Another furtive glance at the clock. He cursed again, listening in on his headphones.

A booming “Detroit Smash!” And Tsuna winced. So a battle had happened. At least it sounded like it wasn't intense enough that it needed Tsuna's intervention, anyway.

He blew out violently, slipping off his headset and wondering who on earth would hitch a ride with the number one hero in Japan. Most people would baulk at the idea.

Tsuna dozed off, still trying to guess what his quirk had been telling him. But he couldn't be accurate like that; all he could do was sense indistinct outcomes of battles, targeting their upcoming locations.

Well, not quite, he amended. If he narrowed it down to a single person or point, he could see the decisions they had made to get that point, and go from there.

Neither of which could be used for any prolonged period. Too long and he earned a headache (like now), and if he pushed himself even further he gained nosebleeds. Tsuna's never gone beyond that, and didn't ever plan to.

He dug out some medicine, swallowing it dry, still half-sleep. He stretched, yawning widely again.

His cell phone buzzed, and Tsuna had to search for the source, stubbing both big toes in the process. Hissing from the pain, he answered with a curt, “What?”

“Tsuna, my boy.”

“Toshinori...What is it?”

“You knew about that boy?”

“Huh. A boy. How old is he? And what's his name.”

“His name's Midoriya Izuku.” Tsuna mentally noted that down. “He's around fourteen, I believe.” A pause in the dialogue.

“What are you planning?” Tsuna asked.

“I think he could be my successor,” All Might confessed. “I want him to be.”

“You think he's worthy? More so than the other candidate?” He made sure All Might felt the barbs in his voice.

“I do think that,” All Might confirmed.

“Toshinori Yagi. Don't make foolish decisions based on one fucking meeting-” Tsuna cut himself off, rubbing his temple. “...Fine. I'll let this go for now, but I shit you not, if I find a single bad thing in his records, I reserve the right to shoot you in the balls. Got it?”

“Yes,” All Might agreed. “But please don't shoot me.”

“You're making it tempting.” Tsuna hung up, throwing the phone onto the couch (which was currently buried under discarded napkins from the local Chinese takeaway).

He flopped down his office chair again, groaning. A window popped up on his screen, and Tsuna blinked at it.

“Wait...” Tsuna said, sitting up straight. “What the fuck.”

A message from U.A. High School, informing him that come next year, All Might would be a teacher.

Tsuna groaned again, this time louder. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He snapped at the air irritably. “I only agreed to this hero gig because I wanted to work with the best. I am not working with Endeavour.”

He glared at the monitor. “I don't trust men whose pubes are made of fire.”

#hazel.writing #bnha #khr #fanfic #yoyo #guess who updated 8)

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thomas-anonymous-nyc · 4 years

Text

October 2, 2020

12:58am

Part of me definitely wanted to chase another one. I was thinking about music and looking at my pinboard and thinking about possibilities. I was thinking about how a little high and maybe contemplating tomorrow would be worthwhile.

But I thought of what I really want, or really think I can train myself to want, or maybe I’m selling myself short -- the things I know I do want.

The idea of chasing a beer, toggling between sections, not getting anything done, no attention span to put toward anything, then waking up on 5 hours of sleep, unable to sleep longer, unable to focus while reading because I didn’t get enough sleep... all that sounds fucking terrible.

I dunno when I’ll wake up. I probably won’t end up in the city until later in the day. But I know that whatever I do, I want to be my full self, with a lot of energy. I’m going to eat pancakes or a bagel. I’m going to look around.

This time next year, I don’t want to be doing this. If anything, I imagine having a bike ride, maybe watching 3x movies. Damn, beautiful runs on the west side. So beautiful.

I should do that tomorrow. One long ass run on the west side after dropping my stuff off at work.

A nice long run. That’ll be nice.

What do I want to enjoy? I should choose to enjoy that.

I want to lay with you D...

12:16am hbd

Today I’m not going to really celebrate. I didn’t go to friends birthdays so I’m not throwing a big thing on my own, and of course, you know, the virus.

I said I’d stop but I want to just chill this weekend and enjoy myself throwing back. Some thoughts:

-I truly cannot focus while I’m on this. I was reading a short story in my book and starting to drift away -I guess part of the pull of this is not being able to appreciate how beautiful it is to wake up early, you know. I’m clinging onto some sense of the night time -There’s definitely an avoidance of that fatigue/self-loathing combination in this all, otherwise I’d go home and just wake up and get at it

I’m thinking about coming home, doing different things as I change my mind about things in the future -- how I’m going to live my life when I put this all in my past, make a decision. I’m happy to kinda throw a lot of this away because I’m not lookin forward to things. But Kendrick Lamar rapping, someone living with a dream, someone finding so much pleasure in the creative act... that’s all so beautiful to me, you know.

Leave this behind. It’s late at night and I go home to write letters to mail out the next day. I go home to open up Ableton and record a verse that was playing in my head on the train.

That can be me. Will be me. Listening to this Miles Davis track from that Louis Malle film -- watching that stone... Reading that Flannery O’Connor story that I had to put down and enjoying it stone and full of focus...

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fatalefcmme · 7 years

Text

money makes me romantic.

ELIZABETH ZABINI is A DEATH EATER SUPPORTER in the war, even though HER official job is as A POTIONEER. the TWENTY year old PUREBLOOD is known to be AMBITIOUS and CHARMING but also CUTTHROAT and DECEITFUL. some might label them as THE FEMME FATALE.

trigger warnings: spousal abuse, child abuse, alcoholism, murder (also mentioned in every bullet point!)

youth !

elizabeth is born ready for a life of nannies, of pampering and being spoiled and getting everything she wants. for the first few years of her life, that’s exactly how it goes, too. her father’s a successful businessman, having connections all over the world, his business bringing in the money the zabini’s depend on, breathe on, sleep on. her first four years are spent on silk sheets and expensive clothes, in a massive penthouse apartment overseeing swansea.

it all falls to pieces when her father’s debts catch up on him and he goes bankrupt. there’s no money left. it’s a surprise to her mother, who thought business was booming and that there was nothing to worry about, but they have to move out either way, swap their massive place for a tiny flat that just fits three people. elizabeth is four years old and doesn’t understand what is going on.

[ spousal abuse tw, alcoholism tw, child abuse tw her father starts drinking. a lot. he goes job hunting every day, at least, that’s what he says, and comes home smelling of booze and stumbling every evening. at one point, he starts drinking at home, too, having lost any sense of pride. the zabinis have been knocked from their pedestal, so there’s no room to pretend at home. when he starts drinking at home, the fights between him and elizabeth’s mother increase. her mother screams and her father sits still until he’s done listening and ends the fight with a smack against a cheek or something more. his anger turns to her at times, too, but not as much as it does to her mother, but it does, and that’s enough for her hate to start growing. end of tw ]

they are kicked out of their house for the first time when she’s ten. they couldn’t make rent for the second month in a row and their landlord is done. her parents play the blaming game and elizabeth cries in the dry sheets at the motel they stay in now. they itch and are cold and she just wants a place to call home.

hogwarts is an escape, a place for elizabeth to leave behind the endless fights and the new shitty flat and to focus on something else than keeping quiet and not becoming too bored. she’s sorted in slytherin, like her mum was ( her dad went to school in italy, never even saw inside hogwarts, and perhaps that made the place even better ) and flourishes. socially, academically: suddenly elizabeth grows into something more than what she was before, learns how to use her disadvantages as advantages.

she mixes with the pureblood crowd like she should have done years ago, tells lies as to why she wasn’t at many events ( things like my dad travels a lot so we were never in the uk much, to be honest ) and reconciles with people she went on playdates with before everything turned to shit. she gets into the slug club, grows ambitious when she finds out she has skills, proper skills, in potions.

her ambition becomes a drive, becomes a plan: she signs up for summer internships, for ways out of the live she has been living so far. she talks to slughorn ( who likes her, even if her dad’s a failure ) and searches for opportunities, chances, anything to become successful, to do what a zabini is supposed to do.

later life! (imma timeline this bc its a Thing)

june 1977: once graduated, she starts working to earn the title of potioneer, staying in contact with slughorn and meeting members of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, making connections and impressions. she’s nineteen (november 1978) when she gains the title. she’s young, but not the youngest, and she’s reveling in it. she starts making potions for st mungo’s and the aurors, works freelance, and so for no one but those she wants to work with. she makes her own money, and feels on top of the world.

august 1978: she marries young, too, only a year after graduation. he’s older than she is, but a few years, merely. a family friend from her mothers’ side, who is a respectable surname, who’s respectable and rich and kind, someone who’s a better husband than her father ever was. she doesn’t love him, though, loves his money, and she married him for that only. his money allows her to move out of her parents place, allows her to start living the life she was supposed to be living all these years. she doesn’t love him, but she loves all he gives her, and it gives a sense of power, because he does seem to love her, and so she holds all the cards.

[ MURDER TW may 1979: it’s after ten months of being married, that dies. a potion -- a poison -- stops his heart, making it seem like a natural death, but he’s too young to die this soon, but no one stops to question it. she’s pregnant, and she does not want him as a father. easy as that. she doesn’t want her child to have a father, doesn’t want him to be the father --- she doesn’t love him, and she won’t let her son grow up with parents who don’t love each other, like she had. she won’t allow that. she holds the cards, and she decides to stop the game and win.

there’s something twisted in elizabeth, like there’s in every zabini, in every rowle: it’s always been there, but the moment she starts toying with the idea of poisoning her husband, it grows. she makes the poison herself and feels the most alive than she ever has, and while she tells herself that she’s doing it for her son, she knows, somewhere, it’s also because she wants power. him dying would leave her a fortune, and she needs it. end of tw ]

15 november 1979: her son is born and she names him blaise and loves him more than she has ever loved anyone else. she promises him a good life, a youth she never had, the youth she should have had. she promises him silk sheets and fortune and love, because she loves him, truly, deeply, loyally.

post blaise’s birth: elizabeth is still making potions, though more for friends and acquaintances (and death eaters), but has put her career on a backburner. she’s found a better way to make money, after all, her dead husband has taught her that. besides that, she’s a single mother, and most of her time is eaten by blaise, blaise, blaise. she has cut ties with her parents at this point, has left her past behind and not looked back, and in stead only focuses on the future. she focuses on pretending to grieve and raising her son and being the face of perseverance for other widows ( because god knows the war makes many ). she wears red silk and red lipstick and cries fake tears and flips her hair and is in search for a new man to marry, to pretend to love, to steal his money from when he dies under strange circumstances.

personality n tidbits !

basically the ‘then perish’ meme tbh. really doesnt care about anyone besides her and her son, when it comes down to it, and lmao. a selfish being.

really sociable and charming. she’s made a name for herself over the past few years, too, is growing more respected in pureblooded circles because of her beauty, of her money, of her position. she’s appearing at balls and spending money on charities and smiling her best smiles and playing the game right.

likes red wine and cider!!! a lot!!

Bitter Bitch at times, but mostly a Determined Bitch and a Beautiful Bitch.

responds to beth too btw!!

as for purist shiz: she sticks with it as well as the de’s bc it puts her in a position of power and well ... power is everything? gotta love it. gotta have it. if her being a pureblood with a respectable last name puts her higher than others, she’ll gladly accept that.

Aesthetic Goals

what can i say besides all this?? she loves slow jazz ?? here’s a pinboard.

#maraudrshq:intro #( money power 'n glory. )#abuse tw #child abuse tw #spousal abuse tw #alcoholism tw #murder tw

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moodymindymusereactions · 7 years

Text

When they discover their s/o is a writer

Suho:

I think Junmyeon would be hella impressed. You are a thinker and he really appreciates someone who has their own opinions and thoughts about things in life. I don’t think it would matter much what subject or type of writing you do, he’s going to find it interesting. But for reaction's sake, we’ll go with mystery. I think Junmyeon is the type to really like having something that challenges him mentally and trying to figure out who stole the painting or who killed who would be right up his alley. Honestly, he wouldn’t so much pick your brain because he wants you to tell him who the killer or thief is, but more so he can hear all his thoughts out loud. He’s not looking for affirmation, he’s organizing his clues. Is it weird that I see him having a small journal that he dedicated to the mysteries of your books/series? Like he just jots down his thoughts and his predictions and sees if he’s right by the end. He’ll have it organized first by setting and then by character and then by major events. He’ll lay out all his growing evidence. He’ll cross off people who are innocent and make stars and/or notes next to those he still suspects. It doesn’t matter where he is, if he thinks he’s figured out the mystery Junmyeon will call you or text you or facetime/skype you excitedly. Junmyeon appreciates creativity, so a writer s/o would be perfect. “Jagi! I know who did it!” “Oh?” “Yeah!! I’m sure of it!” “You said that last week XD” “But I’m right this time!!! I know it!”

Baekhyun:

Look I’m not saying Baekhyun would be totally into horror, suspense thrillers, but that’s exactly what I’m saying. This guy would be all over that ish! Honestly, he’d be so surprised at first. You? A horror suspense writer? His jagi? Excited would be an understatement. He’ll want copies of all your past to present work! NOW! He has to dig in and devour the eerie scenes, the heart-pounding suspense! The faster his pulse is, the better. He also thinks it’s pretty sexy that you have a dark side. Honestly, he’ll want to explore the different characters, the way you developed them, why they are the way they are, who (if anyone) they’re based on, etc. I feel like Baekhyun takes his reading very seriously. I think he’d also be into writing back and forth with you, too. Like not in a ‘let’s publish this’ sort of way, but like you have created characters together, formed a whole world, and are just writing fun little short stories for the fun of it. I think this would excite him because he’d feel like he was exercising his mind and being creative, something that he really cherishes. However, if you are anything like me and you have zero problem with killing off main characters for story development, be prepared for a long whining session as to why this is the worst thing you could have done because ‘johnny deserved better’. Being a writer with Baekhyun would only spice up your relationship, to be honest. “Jagi! The new chapter was amazing!!” “You think so?” *eagerly nods* “I still think you should have just killed Joan off, but Henry was a good choice, too. He was whiney.” *cue laughter* “That’s not why I killed him!” “WELL, IT SHOULD BE!”

Chanyeol:

Literally your biggest fanboy! He thinks you being a writer is fantastic! It wouldn’t even matter what kind of writer you are, he’ll want to read everything you have. In a way it makes him feel closer to you. He feels like by reading your work, he’s somehow getting a deeper insight into you as a person. If you’re struggling with a chapter or a certain scene he’ll want you to use him as a pinboard, bouncing idea after idea off of him until something blossoms. Chanyeol understands better than most that while writing the proper inspiration has to manifest and that is something that can be elusive at times. Honestly, I see him being the type to beg you to either write him something he can take with him on tour or send him the new pages of whatever chapter you’re. Again, it probably makes him feel close to you, but imagine the discussions that would come out of this!! He’ll talk to you endlessly about different scenarios and characters. Especially the bad guys cuz jeez why do they have to be so mean. ‘MC is just living his life, Jagi! Why is BG so rude! It’s just not fair!’ Honestly, if you’re anything like me and you suddenly get awesome ideas for later parts or even just brand new material ideas and you stop dead in your tracks to record your fantastic idea in your phone, Chanyeol is going to fanboy hard because he thinks that so cute. You’re halfway through a conversation while walking Tobin and BAM! Inspiration! He thinks you’re so cute! He’ll want to know what your idea was so he can help flesh out the details. No idea is a bad idea. Just one that needs a little more love. “Omo! Jagi~~why did you do that to poor main character!!! My heart! How could you?!” “Chanyeol-ah, all he did was trip…” “But he broke his arm!!!!!!” “That happens sometimes, darling…”

D.O:

As we all know, Kyungsoo is the quieter one of the group. I think he really would enjoy a writer as a partner. He strikes me as someone who likes to read. Cliche, I know, but imagine if you were a food critic and/or blogger and most of your work is centered around food. We all know this guy loves to cook and bake, so this would just be a new perspective on something he already enjoys. Omg!! Think about it! He would totally take you to all sorts of restaurants, large or hole in the wall just so the two of you can critique the food that you both eat. If he’s on tour, I can totally see him running into a good eatery and wanting to share it with you, so if he can’t send you a bite, he’ll kindly ask the chef for the recipe so he could make it for you. SO CUTE!!! That and I can see him eating something and be totally disappointed because “it was headed in the right direction, but it’s missing something” and going home to cook the same dish just so he could figure out what the missing piece was. It would be extremely cute if you created a piece just around him Something like “My Boyfriend’s Kitchen” or something. Can you imagine if he proposed to you?? You would have to change that to “My Fiance’s Kitchen” OH THE SCANDAL!!! ;) “Kyungie, it’s really not that big of a deal.” *adamantly shakes his head* “No that dinner was awful. I can’t have that be your birthday dinner. I knew I should have just done it myself!” (plz love and cherish this nugget. Plz).

Kai:

I don’t know how much he reads, to be honest. I feel like he doesn’t mind reading a good book, but he’s a bit picky on his choices. An image that really stands out to me is romance. I feel like it would be his guilty pleasure. He really likes romance and love stories, but like not those icky raunchy stories! ‘It has to be a real love story, not a porno.’ Don’t ask me why I think this. I just do. So say as a writer you like to indulge in romantic comedy. It’s not my favorite, personally, but there are a few out there that are just adorable, it’s hard NOT to like them. I feel like for Jongin this would be about the same. Even so, I still feel like he doesn’t read a whole lot. Not because he’s not interested, but because he’s so busy dancing and doing other things. So, if you were to read some of your work to him, say while the two of you lounge around on a day off, he would be putty in your hands. He’d be so engrossed in the world and love story you created that he’d be almost sad when you’re forced to stop either by schedules or just some good ‘ole sleep. If he’s away on tour, he’ll facetime/skype you so you can read to him until he falls asleep. If you were to pre-record yourself reading the next part he’d be over the moon! Not only does he get to hear what happens next, but now he has your voice at his fingertips. Honestly, I don’t think you’d really understand how comforting that is for him. “Jagiyah, they get together in the end, right? That’s how it ends?” *looks up at you with those wide eyes* “You’ll have to wait and see” *BOOP HIS NOSE IT’S RIGHT THERE!!!* *ahem* “Aigo, but it’s so tense right now!” (cue whine and a tiny pout. Look I don’t bias him but he’s been adopted as my bro, okay? I love this kid!)

Sehun:

Surprisingly, I think Sehun would really appreciate some well written, beautiful poetry. I don’t know why I thought of this, but it kinda makes sense in my mind. Like Jongin, it’s kind of his guilty pleasure. I mean how cute would it be if he was originally your fanboy and he just messaged you out of the blue about one of your prose. It could be because it’s so beautiful and heartfelt, or it could be because he wanted to discuss the deeper meanings of the words. Even just because he’s confused or curious about a certain part. Either way, the rest is history. Sehun loves to read your poetry, but he also LOVES to listen to you recite it. There’s something about the way your voice wraps passionately around the words that he finds so endearing. Honestly, he could fall asleep to your gentle voice (and maybe some hair petting). I also think that Sehun would entertain the idea of dabbling in poetry himself, though he would be really shy about it. How cute would that be?? The two of you exchanging poetry like some old sappy romance movie. *dies of cuteness overload* “Omg! Sehun-ah, this is amazing!!” *blushes and looks sheepish* “It’s alright…” “It’s more than alright! This is beautiful! You did such an amazing job--,” *he’ll blush like a schoolboy the whole time you compliment all the different wonderful aspects of his work*

--Admin MM

#exo reactions #exo scenarios #exo #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #suho scenario #junmyeon scenario #baekhyun scenario #chanyeol scenario #kai scenario #jongin scenario #sehun scenario #d.o scenarios #Kyungsoo Scenario

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j-wonwootrash · 7 years

Text

S.Coups || Next Door Pt.1

Word count: 2.2k Genre: College!au, fluff, drama, comedy, slice of life, romance A/N: This was in my drafts for so long I forgot to post it. *smiles shyly* Enjoy reading!

Y/B/N - Your brother’s name

Pt.1 || Pt.2 ||

“He deserves a punishment.”

You woke up to the sound of the alarm clock, too lazy to get out of bed and continue the same routine everyday. You couldn’t take it anymore but you had to endure, since the boys you were staying with were the boys you loved the most.

Your nephews, Jaewon & Jaemin- your older brother’s sons. He left them in your care about 3 months ago when he suddenly barged into your new apartment, panting with the kids.

“Y/B/N, you know how much I hate people who don’t ring the door bell before coming in…” you whined as you turned around. “What’s going on? What happened?”

You saw your brother, who was dead exhausted, soaked from the rain with his sons in his arms and bags behind him.

“It’s Hana.” he paused. “When I got home from work, Jaewon ran to me, crying- saying their mom brought home another man. Out of anger I took the boys and left. You wouldn’t mind if we stayed here for a while until I save up for a new apartment?”

With pity you hugged your brother. “Of course.. yes. I’ll let you stay here even it takes years.”

Looking back at that time, you couldn’t believe how your sister-in-law would do such a move to your brother. When she was introduced to your family, she looked pure and innocent and was someone you trusted. She was the sister you never had. But in the end you confirmed the saying that “seeing is deceiving” was indeed true.

You cooked pancakes and Jaemin started to cry. “Shh now Jaemin you’ll wake the neighbors.” you cooed him as you carried the almost 1 year old child in your arms. “If you cry, no pancakes from Auntie Y/N.” you singsonged.

Jaewon, the 3 ½ year old, woke up in his pj’s. The little boy tugged the ends of your apron. “Hungry, Jaewon?” He nodded, taking the first bite of pancake, and you knew the smile on his face was enough for him to stay happy.

“Aunt Y/N. More more?” he pointed at the sliced pancakes. “Alright dear, but only one okay? We have to hurry to bring you to Grandad and Granny.”

----------

Seungcheol woke up with sun rays that blinded his eyes. It was 7 in the morning and his friends slept over after another party at his place. “Ugh.” he grunted lowly, staring at his group’s drunk dead bodies. “Guys wake up, we have school. Class’ at 9.”

The rest of the boys, that is, not even half of his squad- Jeonghan, Soonyoung and Joshua. “5.. more.. minutes..” Soonyoung said in his morning voice. Seungcheol sighed at the younger one, pulling the blanket in irritation.

“Yeah your definition of 5 minutes is an hour.” Seungcheol rubbed his temples. “Get up or I’m leaving you behind.”

Seungcheol lived alone since when his father kicked him out of the house, which was a little over a year ago. He was against his father’s new intention for the company, much to that it will benefit his family and not the world. His mother wanted for him to come back but there was no guarantee that that’ll change Seungcheol’s mind.

Breakfast was always rushed whenever the boys were around. Either they all took a bite or nothing at all. This time, they skipped, again. “Are you all ready?”

Seungcheol yawned, fastening his seat belt. “Cheol, isn’t that Y/N?” Joshua pointed at you, who was now putting Jaewon and Jaemin in the booster seats.

“Hm yeah. She lives next door.” Seungcheol looked at you. “She has kids?” Jeonghan raised a brow.

Seungcheol shrugged. He didn’t know much about you but this view of you to him was, very interesting. “I think there’s something the entire school doesn’t know about.”

---------- “I’ll see you later boys.” you kissed their foreheads, Jaemin already crying in Granny’s arms.

You drove off and to be honest, the school wasn’t that far from your parents but you’d rather drive than to walk. As you arrived by the entrance of the school, a crowd already gathered at your usual spot. “What’s going on?” you murmured.

You got out of the car and swung your bag to your back. “Why are you all here?” you asked the others, who were slowly walking backwards. Since you got no response, you ignored them and went to your locker.

Irritated because you felt the presence of people tailing you from behind, your head ached after seeing people crowded the newsboard. Pushing your way through, you saw words of false statement. Y/N has kids. I got proof.

There was an arrow pointing below, and the picture showed you with your nephews, clearly taken this morning. “Who did this?” you asked. Frowning, you angrily tore the paper from where it was, turning around to the people you knew who were following you. “I said who did this?!”

No one dared to look at you, after all you were part of the Student Council and never have you raised your voice besides the President. You crumpled the paper and threw it to the ground, and without stopping to think for a second, you entered the meeting room with heavy steps.

“Pres,” you loudly pushed the door open. “What is this lie?!” you wriggled and shoved the picture to his face.

“Y/N I can’t see it if you put it that close to- oh wow.” Jonghyun was taken aback. “If it’s that act then we all know who caused it.” He stopped to put scratch his chin. “Oh what’s his name? Seungkwan?” he furrowed his brows.

“That’s definitely not me, I’ll never do that to Y/N.” Seungkwan butted back, the secretary.

“It’s Seungcheol, Pres.” Nayoung gave him a glare of frustration, while she continued to count the finance.

“Mingyu, you better do something about it. I mean he’s your friend,” you sighed. “Can’t you talk to him?”

The boy just smiled, like he always did. He let his legs rest on the meeting table while he twirled his pen around. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Make sure you do it or else,” Jonghyun warned as he sat back down. “Anyway, let’s start. Minutes ready?”

---------- Lunch came and you were in queue to get your meal. You thought anyone could do that but, Seungcheol? He used to be in the Council up until last year.

The cafeteria became noisy when he came with Jeonghan and Mingyu. “Yawawoh! What’s today’s menu?” Your head fumed, rolled your eyes as you went to an empty table.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, assuming it would be your mother, who would always send you pics of the boys at this hour. Flattened lips curved as you saw Jaemin’s face covered with oatmeal. You giggled, at least this one bit made you happy today.

“How’s your son doing?” you hear Seungcheol approaching your table.

“Fyi, he’s not my son.” your hands balled into fist as you turned to Mingyu. “Hey I thought you’ll talk to him about it?”

Mingyu just shrugged, “Tried to, he won’t listen.”

You glared at Seungcheol, who smirked at your reaction. Oh how you wanted to kick his stomach for being obnoxious. Just the sight of him ticked you off. “Well Gyu, you’re not aggressive enough. I’m leaving.”

Seungcheol pulled you as you stood up, your back against his chest. The chairs screeched the floor, your palm slammed onto the table. It was that much force the entire cafeteria had their eyes on you both. “You’re being rude.” he whispered to your ear.

“Talk about being rude.” you wiggled from his hold and left.

“She’s so mad at you.” Jeonghan chuckled, popping a fry to his mouth.

“I like teasing her, with or without reason. She’s cute when she goes all feisty.” he joined Jeonghan and they both laughed.

“You have to know your limits, Hyung. You and I both know what you plotted was not true.” Mingyu took a sip from his coffee.

“It was all for fun, Gyu.” Seungcheol wiped his hands. “Just how much longer do I need wait to have a normal conversation with her?”

---------- Your hand curled in anger as you heard Jaemin cry for the 3rd time. The boys next door were so loud and your nephew couldn’t get some sleep. It was already 9 in the evening and they were not ashamed of themselves. You carried Jaemin in your arms and Jaewon soon hugged your leg.

Got outside of your apartment and knocked- actually slammed several times- onto Seungcheol’s door. “Choi Seungcheol!”

The door opened with Chan’s soon-faded smile. He raised his hand and clicked a button on the stereo’s remote. “Y/N noona..” The loud music halted and you stormed into the apartment with no regrets.

“Choi Seungcheol!” your eyes widened with the amount of boys in his living room. “Where is he?”

Soonyoung’s lips agape and pointed towards the kitchen. You gave Jaemin to the surprised boy and Jaewon soon sat on his lap.

You entered and saw Seungcheol drink water. “Ah you’re here. I don’t remember inviting you though.”

“Cut the crap Seungcheol, my nephews can’t sleep because of you.”

He nodded, gulping the few litres left from the glasses. “Me? I’m just here. Ask them, they’re the ones who’re noisy.”

“But you’re the one responsible.” you rubbed your temples.

“Fine I’ll apologise on their behalf.” he rounded his words with sarcasm. “I’m sorry for being a jerk and spreading lies in school. If you want I’ll do anything you say, to keep you convinced.”

You stayed silent and noted his sincerity even if there was sarcasm, and honestly, you like where this was going. You left the kitchen and into the living area. “You’ll do anything I’ll say?”

By this time the rest of the group watched you, curious with the conversation. “Yeah. Anything, no complaints.” Seungcheol scratched his head.

“Okay, you’ll babysit my nephews on Monday and Tuesday afternoons, and a whole day on Fridays.” you turned to him as you eye-smiled the boy, he raised his eyebrows and you sensed the shock in his eyes.

He remained his cool. “Hm, already know my schedule huh. Never knew you stalked me.” he stared at you and tried to reach for your waist, but you knew his intentions and backed up a little.

“I’m not into guys who thinks the girl’s flirting on them. There’s a schedule stuck on your pinboard.” you nod your chin up, pointing to his back. “And it belongs to.. Seungcheol.”

The boys laughed at their friend, flustered in embarrassment. Some of them already hitting each other because they have never seen him so silent. You carried the Jaemin and Jaewon held your hands.

“F-fine.” he rolled his eyes. “When do I start?” Seungcheol sat down on a massaging armchair.

“Friday, that is tomorrow.” you kept your smile. He sighed at the sudden schedule. You chuckled with bitter. “I thought you said ’no complaints’?”

“Too soon.” he excused.

“My parents went on a vacation and my brother’s relocated to Japan. I’ll be busy for council camp. I’ll leave them to you.” you waved to the rest of the boys. “Hope you have a goodnight.”

---------- A little over an hour since you left his apartment, Seungcheol received endless of savagery and laughs from the group.

“If you weren’t such a jerk you wouldn’t have to come to this.” Jun hit Wonwoo so hard from laughing.

“Hyung deserved it! Noona is so kind to everyone.” Dokyeom swayed in his seat.

“Everyone but me!” Seungcheol stood up, he flung his arms in the air.

Jihoon laughed, “You just had to spread it.”

Jeonghan, who knew a little of Seungcheol’s past, decided to cut the conversation. “If you didn’t.. well did that- I bet you, Y/N wouldn’t behave this way.”

Seungcheol knew what he meant. It was only a mistake and he couldn’t believe you hated him for that. “Up until now you actually believe I was at fault, Han?”

“I didn’t say anything further and I wasn’t siding on anyone.” Jeonghan laughed as he lightly punched Seungcheol.

“Okay let’s end here.” Joshua chuckled. “Movie night everyone?”

Seungcheol rested his head onto the pillow, he reflected on what had happened that time. What the heck has gotten into you Y/N?

---------- “Here’s the bag for the diapers and milk. The onesies are in here too, good for 5 days. Bibs are at the pockets inside. Remember to read Jaewon books before he sleeps. Put Jaemin to sleep first, then read. If there are any problems,” you handed him the list. “Just call me. I gotta go. Nayoung’s waiting.” you pecked your nephews’ foreheads. “Be good to Uncle Seungcheol.”

“Won’t I get a peck too?” he pouted with puppy eyes.

“Keep dreaming.” you left as you shut the door behind you.

Nayoung waved at you and gestured to hurry up. She had been your best friend since kindergarten. She knew about the incident and was quite disgusted of what Seungcheol had done. Once you got into the car, Nayoung was a little worried. “Is it alright if you leave the boys to him?”

“He deserves a punishment.“ you said as you buckled up your seatbelt. “Let’s go?”

“Let’s.”

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