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bow-wow-wark-wark · 3 years ago

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Hiii happy 4th hypmic anniversary, I know it's been like 3 days since the actual anniversary but *shrugs* anyways I wanted to answer the questions from this post to celebrate!! (This is going to be a long post lol, this just brings a ramble instinct in me)

1. How and when did you get into HyplMic?

I got into hypmic during the end of September/ start of October of last year, it feels like a lot of time and very little at the same time lol... so many people in the fandom have liked this for super long!! I got into it bc of someone I followed on twitter, they would talk about it sometimes and I was getting a bit sick of the music I listened too so I thought "why not expand my music taste?" Little that I know It was going to become the only thing I listened too lol. I also saw this like "a hypmic characther once said" video and I thought it was soooo funny I just had to get into it. I'm honestly surprised hypmic started in 2017 bc I was going through a god awful musical phase and knowing I could have liked it earlier in life amuses me (tho back then I thought anime was silly so it wouldn'thave happened either).

2. First impressions of the characters? Who stuck out the most?

(Another long one soz) I'm going to do most of them btw.

Buster bros: ichiro was the 1st chara I knew before I got into it, for a bit I had him mixed up with jyushi tho lmao. Tbh I didnt have a very strong opinion on him, I wasn't super into BB at the start 😅 same with jiro, I liked him the most, thought he was really cute. At the start I disliked saburo a bit lol, like he was just soooo mean and I didn't like that, also I wasnt a huge fan of new star at the start so I didnt like him bc of that either.

MTC: I had to fight a lot to openly like mtc, I felt a bit bad liking them at the start bc they're all like criminals and stuff lol. I have to be honest I think that at the start I didnt think about them like at all... the strongest impression here was Rio, he was my favorite also I thought jyuto was hilarious bc of the start of bayside smoking blues, I really liked his voice too.

Fling posse: ok so the moment I saw Ramuda I was like "this guy is evil as balls isnt he?" I was pretty right lol, I thought he was a child like saburo at the start bc hes so small, man fooled me there. I liked dice the most at the start, my 1st fanart is of him lol. I didnt have very strong opinions on Gentaro, I was surprised to find out his VA also voiced yamaguchi since I was a haikyuu fan if anything.

Matenro: Lol matenro was my favorite (still is), idk what was it but I saw all of them and I was like: great :D I dont remeber specific impressions tho.... It was almost like love at first sight lol. I remeber I really liked the fact that both hifumi and doppo had tips, I thought it was super cool.

BAT: ok so I also knew who kuuko was before I got into hypmic my actual actual 1st fanart was of him (I did it before I even knew what hypmic was like at all). I really liked him, I remember listening to gyara bam and being like "this guy rules so much", I really liked jyushi, as mentioned before I had him mixed with ichiro (they look nothing a like I dont even know how) I was super shocked to find out he was also a teen lol I was pretty happy. Not gonna lie I had no idea who hitoya was at the start (rip) I knew kuuko I knew jyushi but I didnt know him, I dont remeber being very big on him till like the dramas and getting more into hypmic bc before nothing nada.

Dotsuhon: lol I slept on dotsuhon for the looongest time, I literally only liked sasara, rosho and rei were just really there for me. Sasara was my favorite bc I loved his voice and tragic transitor gace me unrivaled latino vibes so he felt very close to me in a sense. I thought rei was a scumbag the moment I laid eyes on him.

3. Who was the first character you liked?

My 1st favorites before I found out about bat and dotsuhon where jiro and hifumi!! I really liked their voices and like over all attitude and stuff.

4. Which was the first Division you liked?

My favorite was matenro, they were just so cute and I liked how they were pretty chill and just had fun most of the time. Like how they tried looking all edgy and intimidating but they were all nice guys lol.

5. How have your favorites changed?

Not much lol my favorite is still hifumi tho know I have jyushi and Otome if were ranking on like top 3. I love all the charas now tho!!! Lol these are just my bigger ones. Division wise now my favorite is mtc, followed by bat I'm still a matenro stan tho!! All divisions have done some big growing on me so I love all of them anyways.

6. What was the first song you listened to?

The 1st song I listened to was battle anthem, I was super convinced it was the 1st hypmic song so I was surprised to hear it was division rap battle lol.

7. What's your favorite solo song?

Ghhhh this is so hard to choose... I actually like basically every single hypmic song.... if we're talking only 1t set that's easier to choose. Um that would be sensenfukoku, drops and champagne gold, I like all the mtc ones so I cant choose. Second set every single one is amazing so I cant choose either, tho at the start I disliked most of them somehow...

8. What's your favorite group song?

Ok at 1st i thought it was like an all division song but I just read it and it's just group song in general.... I love all of them but one of my biggest comfort songs is papillion so I'll say papillion. If were talking all stars songs that's easier tho: in no particular order its hoodstar (just heard the + ver and it slapped), survival of the illest+, glory or dust and hang out.

9. Which songs do you think are slept on?

Mmmmm I personally have no idea which songs people like more in general but I have seen a bunch of "my favorite hypmic moments" videos so I'll base it on that. I'll personally say any mtc song lol, in those videos theres always a surprising lack of mtc so yeah.

10. Do your favorite songs come from your favorite Division?

Yes, tho it's really no problem bc I like all songs😅

11. Objectively, who do you think is the best rapper?

I had never heard a lot of rapping till hypmic so I have no idea what good rapping is lol... I personally thinks everyone does a good job, I guess someone else can school me on that.

12. Which composers for HypMic do you listen to?

None... I honestly dont like know who composes which song.... I know very little about music and I dont look into it so I cant answer this one either.

13. If you had to get someone into HypMic with one song what would it be?

Oh :0 well I'm not very sure but if anything I think the way to go would be an all stars song bc you can get the feel of each division pretty good, then if they like that introduce them to other stuff. Of course this all depends on the person lol... my brother really likes strong songs so to him battle anthem was a good hook up... I quite personally would go for survival of the illest bc it has a good feel of the divisions and it's very silly which is a series staple.

14. Do you play ARB? Drop your friend code for people reading!

Nooooo I dont 🤧😢 I really want to but I dont think I would have space on my phone, besides idk how to download it, if you have to pay for it I dont have money and if it's only in japanese I'm learning at snails speed so I wouldnt understand it *cries a little* I have seen certain events tho, I find it funny.

15. What events are you hoping to see? What character combos do you hope will show up together?

Mmmm idk I have a post about but I'll love to see a sasara jakurai interaction, I'm pretty sure one has already happened but I want this funny man to interact with jakurai more. Some people mentioned that they would like to see more interactions between kuuko and samatoki and I agree, wheres that side of the mad comic dialogue line up? I'll also like to see hitoya and samatoki bc they're both into vintage stuff ish, like fashion wise so I think it would be interesting to see. Last I want a jyushi/jiro interaction idk of there's any but there needs to be I need them to interact!!! Or maybe saburo jyushi that would also be interesting.

16. Are you into any ships?

Yes!!! I'm a little shy talking about ships not going to lie so I don't talk about it too much lol. I like samajyu a normal amount, I also like ichikuu, jiroshi, hifudo and hitojaku. I like a lot of other ships too tho, like ot3 mtc is good so is fling posse tho my favorite is ramugen. Hypmic has a bunch of cute ships so it's hard not to enjoy most.

17. Do you have a yume/self-ships? Platonic or romantic.

Not really lol, I have considered reading self insert before but I always feel a bit embarrassed. If you do you're super poggers tho.

Ok I'll keep answering in another post bc this is getting super long and the next question is one I want to say a lot about again. Umm if you happen to see this and want to answer them too fell free to!! You can tag me if you want as well, I love seeing others opinions about like hypmic and stuff so feel free too. If you want to comment on something I said you're free to do so as well

#this is so long #km not sorry tho 😈#ok maybe a bit #this questions really bring that animal instinct in me lol #brains is being replaced by hypmic sorry #im not tagging bc #long post #ramble post #you can block the ramble tag if you dont want to see this lol #also if theres mispelling in this ignore it #i cant spell or read #this really is so long im so sorry.... ill make sure to cut the next one earlier if it gets too long

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sage-nebula · 6 years ago

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I love myself. I love being myself. And I would not want to be anyone else.

It’s taken me so long to be able to say those first two things, and sometimes I still struggle, but for the most part it’s true. And I’m still discovering new things about myself all the time. It’s weird, because some things I took forever to discover about myself were things that took forever to discover about myself because I didn’t have access to the resources to help me. Like I didn’t realize that I was asexual until I was twenty-one and stumbled across a Wikipedia article about asexuality. I didn’t realize that I had fallen in love with my best friend until I was pretty much in college, which is ridiculous to me considering I look back on how I only went to our senior prom because I was jealous over the idea of her going to said romantic dance with a mutual friend of ours. They were only going as friends, but I felt strong jealously, like, “She should be going to that dance with me” and somehow did not put two-and-two together that being jealous that another girl was going to a romantic dance with someone else was a very not straight way to feel. (For the record, I was a third wheel basically the entire night even though we were supposed to be a big friend trio and it was no one’s fault but my own. I regret it, but I don’t blame my past self because I was a teenager and, as a teenager, I was well within my rights to do stupid things. It was part of the learning and growing process, and thus there’s no need to shame my past self over it. I’m still astounded that I didn’t realize how very not straight I was at that moment, but still.)

One of the recent things I discovered about myself at nearly twenty-nine is the fact that my preferred fashion style---my fashion style---is, and always has been, pretty grunge. I’ve answered meme questions on here before that ask similar questions, and I’m always like, “idk, comfortable and cool?” because I never knew what to say. And hell, when watching Queer Eye, whenever Tan would ask the champion of the episode who their style icon was, I never had an answer. But after I saw Captain Marvel, I realized that my style icon is Carol Danvers when she was wearing the leather jacket + the Nine Inch Nails shirt + the (ripped?) jeans + the flannel + the boots. You know, the “someone’s disaffected niece” look. I saw online that this was a grunge look. I saw a list of grunge traits. And what I saw was:

Oversized, baggy clothing

Muted colors

Makeup, if worn, is preferably dark and a bit smudged

Ripped jeans

Leather jackets and/or flannels

Converse shoes or Doc Martens boots

Band t-shirts

Messy hair, sometimes dyed bright punky colors

Pretty much all of those bullet points hit things I’ve always had in my own fashion sense. My hatred for skinny jeans is well documented; I’ve always worn baggy jeans, and oversized hoodies and often baggy t-shirts are my jam. I definitely prefer more muted colors (see my favorite shades of blue and green for examples) over very bright ones. Wearing makeup is a pain in the ass, but when I do wear it I wear dark eyeliner that looks a bit smudged due to how I apply it, and eye shadow and lipstick that aren’t very bright. Pretty much every pair of jeans I own is naturally distressed and ripped; my absolute favorite pair, which I’m wearing as I type this, has GIANT holes in both knees, and a smaller hole on the back thigh. This is because I’ve been wearing them since high school (they still fit!), and have just naturally worn these holes into them. They weren’t distressed at all when they were purchased for me about fourteen years ago, but now they’re very distressed, and also very beloved. They spark a lot of joy. I’m never getting rid of them.

I don’t have many flannels at the moment (though I have a couple), but I have several different leather jackets. I wore Converse shoes for YEARS, but unfortunately they offer no support and are the reason my achilles tendon is pretty much permanently damaged (might also be why I have knee crepitus as well), so I don’t wear them anymore and instead have legit tennis shoes instead (but ones that are black with white soles so I feel they still fit). However, I do have two different pairs of Doc Martens, one of which is a platform pair, and I love them to death, so. The fact that my preferred shoes were Converse and Docs before I even knew about this is pretty . . .

I used to wear band t-shirts almost exclusively in my teen and young adult years, and stopped pretty much only because I stopped going to concerts, and lost a lot of my band t-shirts to boot (though I do thankfully still do have a 10 Years one, and I hope to get the one currently on their website soon too). But I do have a 10 Years light jacket (super oversized of course), and replaced the band t-shirts with gaming t-shirts. I guess this would make me a bit of a geeky grunge? I don’t think that’s really a “thing,” but if people can invent things like “soft grunge” or whatever, then I feel this should be allowed. I am donating some of my gaming shirts to charity in a couple days because I don’t think I really want them anymore (either because they’re for games I don’t play but got them for free, or because I don’t really like the colors on them and also got them for free), but I still have quite a few of them. I’m a geek, I can’t help it, it’s just who I am.

And my hair is always messy no matter what I do. Even when I pin it up, it still looks a bit messy. It’s just the way it is.

While I do shower every day and so I don’t fit the “greasy” part of the grunge criteria, and while I’m obviously not going to change myself to more closely fit the grunge criteria, it still felt like a huge “OOHHHHHHHH” moment for me when I realized this. It also makes it a bit easier to shop for fashion things, I feel, because I now have a starting point. I’m not sure this is a starting point that Tan France would approve of given that I am almost twenty-nine and so the “someone’s disaffected niece” look is one I feel that he would think I should not be striving for, but it’s not like I’m really striving for that look, but rather, that that look is who I am. Like it’s what calls to me. And you know what, if Karamo can live off Skittles and Coke every day of his life, I feel like I should be able to dress in a geeky grunge style every day of mine (excepting the days I’m at work since that doesn’t fit with the dress code there). Not that these two things are related, but hey. (Besides, I’m sure that Tan would help me find a way to make it work. Orrr he might try to steer me away from it. Or maybe a meeting point of both? Hmm. Who knows.)

Anyway, there’s no real point to this post. I just felt like making it. And I’m fine, or even happy, with looking like someone’s disaffected niece when I’m outside of work. Sure, I’m almost twenty-nine and therefore nearing thirty, but that doesn’t mean that I need to give up the things I enjoy or who I am, especially since in so many ways I’m still discovering them. You know, there’s this idea that permeates society that at some point you have to grow up and leave behind all the things you liked to do and wear in your younger years behind, but that’s ridiculous. No one magically changes into a boring, plain adult once they hit a certain age, and no one should have to. I still love video games. I still love series and things that I loved when I was a kid. I still like wearing graphic tees and ripped jeans and oversized headphones. I am still a mature, responsible adult despite all this. I still own my home, my car, and hold a steady 8:30am - 5:00pm, Monday through Friday job. People are complicated, they’re complex. You can be someone who enjoys silly, frivolous things like fandom and alternative fashion, and also be an adult who carries adult responsibilities. You never have to worry that you’ll get to an age where you should have yourself figured out by that point, or else you’ve failed, because life is an ongoing process and learning experience. You’re never too old to learn about yourself or embrace who you are. This is something I’ve been realizing with regards to myself and my own life, and it’s something I think so many people could stand to realize, too.

Anyway, this is just some personal rambling, so please DO NOT reblog this, or I’ll just delete the post so it won’t show up with the “keep reading” link is clicked anyway and also block you. It’s just something I wanted to get out of my head, and now I have, so I’m going to go get some sleep. Good night. ♥

#i love realizing and learning new things about myself #i'm still learning about myself and surprising myself and finding new ways to make myself happy and comfy #and i think that's so great

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ghostbustermelanieking · 6 years ago

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praescitum chapter nine

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight

casefile, season 10, season 11. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: As Mulder and Scully adjust to their reassignment to the X-Files and working together in the wake of their separation, they find themselves investigating a small town and a ghost that apparently warns people of bad things to come.

note: happy halloween! i actually started posting this story when i did to post this chapter on halloween, since it’s probably the most festive. but since i didn’t get as far in the story as i wanted to by this point, i’m going to kind of slow down my posting a little bit by waiting until i finish a later chapter to post the next one. i’m hoping to still be able to post at least one chapter a week, but idk if i’ll be able to keep up with that lol. those are the hopes!

warning for discussion of death in a (false!) historical context. i included fake historical people/historical battles in a real historical war.

---

nine.

october, 2016

If there's anything that Mulder and Scully are not used to, it's having a third presence on their stake outs. Back in the day, if they were staking out with someone else, said someone probably wasn't very happy about being stuck on a stakeout with them. (They've both heard plenty of “third wheel” gossip over the years, right along with the gossip about them being together long before they actually were.) Luckily, Scully notes, this time, they have what seems like a perfectly nice woman as their company. As much as she relishes the chance to have time alone with Mulder and inexplicably get paid for that time, it's better to share the time with someone who doesn't hate them. And Joy Seers seems like halfway decent company.

She gets takeout for everyone, fighting streets abuzz with Halloween traffic, cars and costumed pedestrians alike. She stops at a gas station and grabs a couple bags of M&M's as an added bonus for Mulder—in honor of the holiday, and because she's guessing they'll be here a while without much paranormal activity to entertain them. (She's still convinced that Ryan Caruthers, and maybe a few friends, are behind the whole thing. It makes much more sense than a diabolical ghost tormenting the entire town.)

Scully picks her way back to the school through streets crowded with pint-sized monsters, ghouls, and pop culture characters. Houses festooned in cobwebs and streamers and plastic skeletons. Kids in costumes holding onto their parent’s hands. At a stoplight near the school, she notices a kid on a bus bench. A familiar-looking kid with an Orioles cap pulled over his face.

She finds Mulder and Joy Seers in the classroom: Mulder setting desks and chairs upright, Joy propping a video camera up on the righted bookshelf. The room has been swept, most of the debris cleared; it looks like an empty skeleton of a room, bare walls and bare floors. “I brought food,” Scully says, sitting the plastic bags of containers on a desk.

“Thanks, Scully.” Mulder grins at her briefly overtop of a graffitied desk. She can tell he's enjoying this. He's probably been waiting for a case like this to fall on Halloween for a while. (“How do we always end up staking out haunted places on holidays, Scully?” he joked earlier, and she rolled her eyes, pointed out that this particular place is not haunted, absolutely not. Not the inn, not the school, not the town. She knows he's remembering their conversation last night, and she's hoping he won't bring it up. She feels silly just thinking about it.)

“Were the roads too bad?” Joy asks politely, squinting as she adjusts the angle of the camera. “I know they can be a little crazy on Halloween, especially in the fancier neighborhoods.”

“Not too bad,” says Scully, sitting at the desk. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing yet,” Mulder says, sitting down at the desk beside Scully and smirking a little at her. She smirks right back.

“I was relying on our security system to prove whether or not there's any paranormal involvement, but it shorted out today,” says Joy with a touch of irony in her voice, climbing down from the chair and smoothing messy curls absently. “Convenient, huh? Principal thinks someone messed with it to cover up the crime, but we couldn't prove it; it just seems like a system malfunction. And he couldn't get anyone in here to fix it. So I'm setting up a camera in here since this has been the primary location of the activity. I'm hoping to catch some proof as to what this is, if anything happens.”

“That seems smart,” Scully offers. “Although it's strange that the security cameras would mess directly after a break-in.”

“It is,” Joy says, crossing her arms, “but the fact is that it was still working last night. Since my window lock was fixed, anyone who broke in would've had to use the halls. And the cameras showed nothing.”

“Someone could've been planning another break-in for tonight,” Scully comments.

“That's true.” Joy shrugs. “But everyone I talk to says it's just an issue with the computer system. We have the shittiest system, I swear. Anyways, we have this camera to catch anything strange that happens, paranormal or B&E's alike.”

Scully looks at Mulder, who shrugs. It does seem convenient to her—too convenient, especially considering Ryan's technical reputation—but she decides to let it go. She says, “Do we have any sort of plan past the camera?”

Mulder shrugs again. “Not really. I think we're just planning to… sit here.” He smirks at her a little, teasing her as he unwrapping the plastic silverware. “You are familiar with the method of a stakeout, aren't you, Scully?”

“Very much so,” she says dryly, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue.

Joy joins them in the clusters of desks, taking her food gratefully and thanking Scully. “I'm hoping that we'll be able to get something out of tonight,” she says, screwing the cap off of a water bottle. “I really am. Ryan's a good kid, and I hate that everyone's been putting the blame on him.”

“You really don't think there’s any possibility Ryan is behind this?” Scully asks, picking at her salad.

Joy shakes her head. “I never have. Aside from the fact that it seems improbable that a kid—albeit a pretty smart kid, but still—could pull this off, Ryan's always seemed like a good kid to me. I'm not close to Annie Caruthers, but she's always spoken highly of him whenever we see each other… And besides that, he's a model student. Aside from a bad attitude, I haven't seen any signs of delinquency from him. I almost can't believe he really set that fire.”

Scully bites her lower lip in consideration. “I think I saw Ryan outside on my way in,” she says carefully. “The intersection a block over.”

“Really?” Mulder asks, his eyebrows shooting up.

Scully nods. “I think,” she says, somewhat uncertainly. “He wears the Orioles cap, right?”

Joy taps her fingers on the desktop absently. “Probably just a coincidence,” she offers.

“It's a small town,” says Mulder helpfully. Scully pokes at a leaf of lettuce silently.

Mulder clears his throat awkwardly. “Have you ever considered that this… activity might be the result of possession of some sort? Some mixture of Ryan Caruthers and the ghost?”

Scully swallows back the urge to scoff.

“You think Ryan's possessed?” Joy asks, almost incredulously. “By the Specter?”

He shrugs. “Possession can sometimes give humans a power they wouldn't normally have. I've seen it before. That would explain how Ryan was able to get in and out of the school without being detected, how he would be able to move those heavy desks.”

Joy Seers looks uncertain, skeptical. “I suppose that could be the case, but I doubt it,” she says. “I've never heard of any possessions in the history of the legend. And I still just don't think Ryan's involved. Besides his prior history with the ghost, of course.”

Scully hmms in response quietly, sticking the fork in her mouth. She hasn't known what to make of this case since they got it a year ago, and she certainly doesn't know what to make of it now. Mulder shrugs, surprisingly nonplussed, as if he doesn't know what to make of this either.

“I guess we just wait now,” Joy says, and it's almost a question, a clarification. “Wait to see what happens next.”

They nod, nearly in unison.

Their forks scrape at the Styrofoam containers in the new quiet. The setting doesn't seem to align with the stunning silence all around them, the echoey hallways and dim classroom. As a child, Scully used to get scared in big empty buildings, especially in the huge church they used to attend in San Diego, all the looming, empty halls and the almost eerie paintings of Christ. She's gotten past that now, of course, but the oddness of being in an empty school has nearly brought it back. Right now, in all this empty and quiet space, with the small sounds in the hall as the sun sinks below the horizon, she can almost understand why people might think this school—even this town—is haunted.

---

It's getting dark now, the familiar October chill in the air. Ryan clenches his chattering teeth, beginning to regret not wearing the skeleton costume from last year. It's dorky as hell, but it's warm, he sweated buckets at last year's party. And it helps with appearances. He's just wearing a hoodie and jeans right now, no costume of any kind.

He got some candy earlier, even with the disapproving looks (either because he's too old to trick-or-treat, or because he set a fire), and so he unwraps a mini Snickers bar now and takes a bite. He's thinking about turning around and going to the party he told Annie he was going to. He should probably go to the damn party. He still has friends somehow, despite everything, and this is not the right way to spend Halloween. It might be spooky, but honestly, Ryan got tired of the horror movie bullshit at about six or seven. (He hates scary movies, scary stories, any of that stuff that makes him think about the empty eyes of the parents he'll never know and ghostly light on his bedroom walls.) He's nearly convinced, gets his bag up off of the bench and is about to walk away when his fingers brush over an envelope sticking out of the top. The letter from his Uncle Jared.

He swallows, sits down so hard his legs hurt. Shakes his head hard until he's good and resigned. He has to do this. He doesn't have a choice.

He rummages in his bag until he finds the stick-on tattoos and the bottle of water. Follows the directions as he applies them to the back of his hands.

---

Scully will admit, once again, that she's really, really not used to sharing stakeouts with other people; some of her favorite memories of working with Mulder are when they were alone on a stakeout. But they've been sitting in the school for several hours, and she has to say, it's a lot better than she expected. Aside from their opinions on ghosts, it turns out that she and Joy Seers have a lot in common. They discuss their college degrees—biology and pre-med are vastly different, but they took similar grueling science classes and can exchange stories about hellish professors—and Joy asks about the cross around Scully's neck, the one similar to her own. “Oh,” says Scully in surprise, reaching down to touch the cross, and the ring that hangs beside it. (Thank God she didn't ask about that; that'd be a fairly awkward conversation for all of them. Mulder doesn't wear his ring that she knows of, which she has no idea how to take, but at least it fields the Oh, are you two married? questions. A little.) “Oh, my mother gave my sister and myself these necklaces the Christmas I was fifteen. I've worn it ever since.”

She leaves out the occasions where she'd given it to her daughter and it was the only part of her They left behind, and when Mulder had worn it through both of their abductions. (She put the ring on the chain beside her cross when she stopped wearing it because it felt stunningly appropriate, that it lie beside something that had meant so much to both of them over the years. Sometimes she felt like she could feel Mulder in her cross as much as she could in the ring.)

Joy smiles a genuine smile. “Oh, that's wonderful,” she says. “Mine was a family heirloom. It was my grandmother's.”

Scully smiles back, a little easier than she might've a few months ago. It's getting easier to remember her mother, and concentrating on the happier memories does help. “It's beautiful,” she offers.

“Thank you—so is yours.”

Mulder stays politely quiet through most of these interactions, but he speaks up sometime in the fourth hour of their vigil. “Ms. Seers—” he starts.

“Call me Joy, please,” Joy says immediately.

“Joy,” Mulder says. “I remember when we met yesterday, you said something about there being more than one way to interpret the Willoughby Specter story.”

“Oh, right.” Joy throws out an absent grin. “That famous touchy spot. Especially around here.”

“I sense that people don't agree with you?” Scully asks, thinking of Robbie O'Connell's and the sheriff's claims that the ghost is angelic. Ryan Caruthers's claims that the ghost is anything but. The disdain she's seen in response to that skepticism. Personally, she can't really tell why the demeanor of the ghost matters, one way or another.

“I don't know if they do or don't. I haven't made any particular claims about the skepticism.” The other woman shrugs. “My husband is a historian, though,” she adds. “He's done some research into the subject, and we've discussed it before. The origins of this ghost aren't quite as black and white as everyone would like to believe.”

Mulder's interest is piqued—more than piqued, Scully can tell. “Would you mind sharing?” he asks.

Joy shakes her head. “The fame of the ghost just so happens to be intertwined with the origin of this town,” she says. “The name Willoughby comes from a Revolutionary War leader, General Samuel Willoughby. He's hailed as a hero, especially around here, considering he led his soldiers to victory in a battle right around this area. The legend got started when Willoughby published a book of his journals and letters during the war. In the journal entry dated the night before the battle, he speaks of seeing a 'specter’ who brought about feelings of foreboding and dread. This convinced him that he was doomed to die on the battlefield the next day, and his soldiers doomed to lose. So he changed his plans.”

“He survived the battle,” Scully says knowingly—she knows how these legends always go. “And he led his men to victory, and people attributed that victory to the Specter. Which is where the legend originates."

Joy nods. “But what most people don't acknowledge is how costly that victory was,” she says. “Over half of Willoughby's soldiers lost their lives, including his brother. As well as several civilians who unfortunately lived in the area and got caught up in the battle. And that's not to mention the British casualties. Personally, that's not my definition of angelic, especially considering the death of his brother.”

Mulder chuckles briefly, rubbing thoughtfully at his mouth. “It's not exactly mine, either.”

“People see what they want to see,” says Joy. “Someone comes to warn them of something bad coming, people want to think they have good intentions. That there's some way to be prepared.”

Scully hardens her face until it is stony, trying not to show her cards. Spreads her fingers out flat on the table and tries to think of anything but that night before her mother died. Mulder is nodding in agreement, and she's glad that he's distracted by this story, that he won't notice and start asking questions again. “So you don't think the ghost has… good intentions?” he asks Joy.

“Does a ghost have intentions?” Joy laughs. (Along the same line Scully has thought on in this case.) “But no, I don't. Personally, my husband and I have discussed it before, and we think that the ghost is demonic.”

“Demonic?” asks Mulder.

“Yeah. My husband has studied a lot of local history, and he found a court record corresponding to a diary entry from the judge in the early settlement that more or less became Willoughby. It speaks of a man who was convicted of the murder of his wife. He was scheduled to hang, but he disappeared from his prison cell the night before, despite two guards being posted outside. The man had been fairly wealthy and prosperous, and he had a fair amount of money stored away in his house, where they'd also found many signs of what they considered witchcraft and devil worship. All the more reason to execute him, they'd said. But after he disappeared, so did the money.” Joy takes a sip of her water bottle. “They found him two months later, dead in the mountains with no clear cause. All of his money on him. A lantern burning beside his body despite the snowstorm raging around him.”

Scully raises her eyebrows in a halfway interested response—it’s an interesting story, even if it sounds false. Mulder says, “And you think that's the Specter?”

“A ghost has to come from somewhere, right? It makes sense to me, especially that lantern detail. The details about his escape and discovery, as well as the trial records, lead me to believe this man had made a deal with the devil, for lack of a better term. And this is more or less his due he has to pay: bringing bad luck to the inhabitants of Willoughby.”

Mulder hmms under his breath. “That's a great theory,” he says. “And it makes a lot of sense, at least in my mind. It would be consistent with Ryan Caruthers's claims.”

“There’s discussion of 'the local devil worshipper’ in local folklore, but it's not as widespread. And since it took place a full century before, no one in the town ever connected the story with the Specter. But I've always thought it made a lot of sense,” says Joy. “And with everything that's happened here at this school, I've got to say, it makes even more sense to me now.”

“What do you think, Scully?” Mulder asks, and his hand is suddenly on her arm. He's noticed how silent she's been.

Scully grits her teeth and shakes off the thoughts of her mother and her cross and that fucking hallucination or dream or whatever she had before her mother passed away. Forces a smile. “I suppose it could be plausible…” she says, “... if ghosts were real.”

Mulder scoffs jokingly. “I can understand your skepticism, Agent Scully,” Joy says kindly. “Even i—”

They're cut off by the sound of distant crashes, somewhere in the building.

Scully's eyes dart to Mulder. “Did you…”

“Yeah,” he says, already standing. “Joy, do you have any idea…”

“I'm really not sure,” she says. “Maybe the cafeteria?”

More crashes, louder this time. “Split up, clear the halls?” Mulder asks, and Scully nods.

“Joy, you stay here, okay?” she says, standing and reaching for her gun, just in case. “Keep an eye out, call us if you need help.”

Thankfully, Joy doesn't argue; she just nods. “Do you really think you need that?” she asks, gesturing to the gun with her chin.

“Hopefully, no,” Scully says. “But it's a good precaution. In case whoever—or whatever—is destroying your classroom is dangerous.”

---

Mulder and Scully split up outside of Joy Seers's classroom; she goes through the west wing, and he goes through the east. The school is stunningly dark, the halls admittedly eerie, and Mulder is inadvertently reminded of the case years ago that he can barely remember the details of outside of the fact that a satanist PTA tried to kill him and Scully in a high school gym shower. He shudders involuntarily; that doesn't seem like a good line of thought after discussing a ghostly devil worshipper.

He's most of the way down the hall when he hears it: the creaking of a door hinge behind him. He whirls around to see the door of an English classroom hanging open in the circle of his flashlight.

Immediately, he sweeps his flashlight up and down the hallway, but it's completely empty.

Mulder swallows roughly, ignoring the chill spreading over him. He starts to turn back around when the door slams closed hard. He jumps, his hand flying to his holster automatically. Still nothing there; no signs of life, or things notably not alive.

“Hello?” he calls out, sweeping his flashlight up and down the hallway, feeling equal parts silly and determined. He's about to make some plea for the ghost to show itself when he hears another slamming sound, almost smaller than the last one. And then another, and another. The lockers lining the hallways are opening and closing, their slams cacophonous and engulfing. Mulder scans the hallway in frantic confusion, looking for any signs of the Specter, not sure if he really wants to see it or not, considering its legacy. But he still finds nothing, invisible hands moving the lockers as they slam, the cabinets shaking and rattling in place as if affected by an earthquake. Fascinated, Mulder stares, not wanting to look away, wanting to call Scully to get in here and see this. But before he can do anything, his flashlight flickers once, twice, and dies in his palm.

The lockers’ motion fades out as Mulder's breathing grows more erratic, maybe even fearful. The hallway seems darker without the flashlight, pitch black. He smacks the flashlight against his palm in an effort to get it working again, to no avail. “Shit,” he mutters, dropping the flashlight to his side and rubbing at his temples with his free hand.

And then from behind, he hears the scritching sound of a lit match. Golden firelight, small but unquestionably the brightest thing in the room, comes to life behind him, reflected on the metal lockers.

His heart in his stomach, Mulder whirls. He sees it almost immediately, it's unmistakable. He can't make out a face, but he doesn’t have to. It matches every description he's ever heard.

The Specter stands at the end of the hall, lantern held up like some kind of lamplighter.

Mulder's breathing is shallow, erratic; where the hell is Scully when stuff like this happens? He's dying to take a picture, but he knows that will likely only cause problems.

Instead, he draws closer, flashlight dead and useless in his hand, heart thudding against his ribs. The Specter doesn't move. He seems to be surveying Mulder, sizing him up, but somehow, Mulder can't allow himself to worry about that. He goes closer and closer, carefully, as if trying to calm a stray dog. “I know what you are,” he calls. “I know what it is you do.”

The Specter seems unaffected by this. He stands still, his face shadowed, his lantern flickering.

“Do you speak?” Mulder asks, thinking of the ghosts in that haunted house that one Christmas Eve. (If that was real; he and Scully have disagreed about it forever.) “What do you want?”

The ghost remains silent. Mulder's shoes creak on the tile floor as he steps closer, his palms sweaty around the flashlight. The Specter seems to be regarding him, considering.

When Mulder is about three feet away, the ghost's mouth contorts, dipping into a frown. Disapproval. A sudden fear plunges through Mulder's chest, nervousness—what does disapproval mean?—as he remembers Joy Seers's theory that the ghost is demonic. He is about to ask, again, what the Specter wants, when the lantern flickers out.

In a completely impulsive move, Mulder stumbles forward, absurdly swiping at the space where the Specter is. He feels nothing, and he doesn't know if it has disappeared or is still there. Breathing hard, he stands awkwardly in place, his hand curled around the useless flashlight.

And then he hears a pained yelp, down the hall the way he came from.

---

Scully is in the ninth grade wing when she hears it again: the crashing sounds down the hall to the right of her. She follows the sound, flashlight held out in front of her and gun held down by her side. There's a sound almost like banging, a clattery sound like something being dragged over the floor. Scully comes face to face with the double cafeteria doors, where the sound is louder, and pushes it open with a loud clang.

There's a startled shout, and then the smack of a body hitting the floor. Rounding the table blocking the body from view, Scully shouts, “Freeze, FBI!” completely on instinct.

“Shit!” The kid—Ryan Caruthers, Scully notes with an emotion somewhere between satisfaction and disappointed—scrambles to his feet, his ankle caught in a cafeteria chair. His face turns up towards Scully, full of regret and panic as he curses quietly under his breath: “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Scully puts away her gun with a sigh—somehow, she doubts she needs it. “Ryan?” she says, somewhat sternly. “Ryan Caruthers?”

“I had no idea you'd be here,” Ryan says miserably, untangling himself from the chair.

“So you wouldn't have come if you'd known?” Scully asks. He doesn't answer, just rubs at his face with the heel of his hand. “No one's ever been here when you've done this before, right?” she prods.

“I haven't done this before,” Ryan snaps, glaring at her. “I know what you think of me—believe me, I know what everyone thinks of me—but I swear to shit, this is the first time.”

“How did you get in?” Scully asks, still firm. “The window in Mrs. Seers's room is fixed.” She remembers in a split second, as Ryan answers, that the window was fixed before the destruction of the classroom the night before, and mentally curses.

“I jimmied open another window,” Ryan says, sounding disgusted. “The windows in here are shit, the locks are awful… And I'm telling you, I've never done this before.”

“Then why did you come here tonight, Ryan?” Scully fixes the kid with the sternest look she can muster up. “Knowing that people believed you had broken in before?”

Ryan's face turns red, and he ducks his head. His hand shoots through the air as he reaches down to untangle himself from the chair, and Scully sees the same cross tattoo on the back that she remembers from last year. “I… was worried about what was going to happen,” he nearly mumbles. “Because of the ghost. I thought something bad might happen to someone, and I wanted to come here and try to stop it.”

Scully's stern demeanor falls, just a little. She doesn't know why, but it does. She asks gently (not too gently, of course—only a bit more gently), “How did you think you could stop it, Ryan? What did you think was going to happen?”

“Does it matter?” Ryan snaps venomously. “Aren't you going to arrest me now? Agent Sully, or whatever your name is?”

“It's Scully,” she says automatically, and is ready to say more, when she hears a distinctly female shout from somewhere in the building. Joy, she thinks immediately, and mentally curses herself and Mulder for leaving a civilian alone in a potential crime scene. Even if she doesn't believe in the ghost.

Ryan jumps at the sound, startled. “What was that?”

Hoping briefly that Mulder will get there sooner, that Mulder is okay, Scully says, “You know what, Ryan? I should take you in, but this is all very juvenile, and Mrs. Seers has vouched for you multiple times. So I'm going to look the other way.”

The kid looks stunned. Beyond stunned. He says, “Are you serious? Why are you doing this?”

She doesn't know why, she really doesn't. Outside of the face that is stuck at the back of her brain, along with pain and death and visions of the end of the world. Her son out there, somewhere, and she shouldn't let it affect her work, but… She says, “Look, I need to go. If you're still back here when I come back, I'm taking you in. If I ever catch you doing something like this again, my first call will be to Sheriff O'Connell. Do you understand?”

His face white, Ryan nods. Unwilling to wait any longer—unwilling to linger or analyze why the hell she did that, she really can't believe it—Scully turns and heads the other way, back to Joy Seers's classroom.

Inside, she finds all the fluorescent lights flipped on, Joy sitting in a chair heaving air like she is going to run out and Mulder crouched on the floor. Scully runs straight to her side. “Are you okay?” she asks, kneeling to examine the prominent red line on Joy's neck. “I'm a doctor, I can help you.”

Joy waves her off absently. “I'm okay, I'm okay,” she says, her voice only a little rough. “My necklace… it was being tugged, by I don't know what. It was choking me, and then it just broke.”

Mulder stands, the broken silver chain in the palm of his hand. “I saw it,” he says, and his voice is filled with some panicked emotion that Scully can't quite place. “It was being pulled by an invisible force, Scully, she was choking and it was just held up in the air. By nothing. And then it just snapped.”

Joy takes the necklace, muttering, “Damn,” under her breath. She rubs at her forehead, her eyes, in a tired sort of way. “I'm okay,” she reassures Scully again. “Scared me more than anything. I guess I have my proof now that the Specter is hostile.”

She laughs briefly, but Mulder doesn't, and Scully doesn't know how to ask why. She stands up a little reluctantly—she’d have preferred to check Joy a little more, but she really does seem fine, she's waving her off insistently—and dusts her palms off on her pant legs. “Deep breaths,” she says gently. “Try to stay calm.”

Joy clears her throat a few times, rubbing her neck with her empty hand. “So did you find anything, Agent Scully?” she asks raspily. “I heard more sounds in the cafeteria.”

Mulder looks at her curiously, but Scully doesn't know how to tell them what she saw, much less explain what could've convinced her to let Ryan go. She lies, “I think some furniture may have fallen over. I didn't see anything.”

---

They leave the school after that. There doesn't seem to be much point in staying. They have the video in the classroom, and therefore proof. Joy seems spooked by the whole encounter, seems to have lost interest in all of it—she thanks them profusely in the parking lot, but says that she doesn't see any need for them to stay if they don't want to. “I guess I can call you if anything else happens,” she says, “but I don't know if there's anything else you can do. And I'm sure you have more important work to get back to.”

Mulder doesn't bother telling her that they probably don't—he’s almost sure that Scully shares Joy's opinion, that the lack of an actual crime here doesn't justify their position. They shake Joy's hand and get in their car to head back to the hotel.

They're both quiet on the drive. Mulder can't get past what happened in the hallway, his encounter with the Specter. At the time, he'd mostly been fascinated, caught up in the excitement of seeing an actual ghost, but now, all he can think of is the other part of the legend. The part that promises that something bad will happen if you see the Specter. He drives back to the hotel with a precise carefulness that Scully doesn't seem to notice—she seems as lost in her own thoughts as him, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. He keeps sneaking glances at her, as if something is going to steal her away, because by his count, the only two people besides him who could be affected by the Willoughby Specter and his bad omens are Scully and William. He doesn't relax until they get back to the hotel, and even then, it is a cautious relaxation. He's extraordinarily glad that they are sharing a room.

He waits until they get up to the room to say it. He nearly blurts it out—he says, “Scully, I saw it,” and it feels like an exhale.

Scully, in the act of peeling her coat off, freezes. He can see the muscles of her back, can tell how tense she has suddenly gotten. “What?” she says.

“The Specter,” he says. “I saw the Specter, Scully, in the halls. It disappeared just before something pulled at Joy's necklace.”

Scully isn't looking at him. She drapes her coat over the back of the chair, her knuckles nearly white as she clutches it. “It's not that I… don't trust what you saw, Mulder,” she says carefully, her nails scuffing the side of the jacket. “But… are you sure that's what you saw? That it couldn't have been some kind of… projection?”

Twenty-odd years ago, this skepticism would've driven him mad. Now, he pretty much expects it. But it feels like there's something different here, some unusual emotion. The familiar stubbornness, and then something else layered under it. Almost fear. He wonders if it is because of the legend, the implication that something bad will happen to him. He swallows, reaches out and brushes a slow hand over the small of her back as if trying to offer comfort. “I really think it was,” he says. “It couldn't have been a projection, it was too… It couldn't have been.” She's still not looking at him. He flattens his palm against her back, rubs a circle with his thumb. “I don't know what that means, Scully,” he says softly. “Whether or not it's…”

“It probably means nothing, Mulder,” Scully says immediately. She finally turns towards him, and her expression is guarded, but she reaches out and squeezes his arm. “It'll be fine,” she says softly, firmly. Leans forward and kisses his cheek. “I'm going to take a shower, okay?” When she draws back, she won't meet his eyes. He watches her go into the bathroom, until the door closes behind her.

He showers next, tries to shed the thought of more misfortune, but he can’t quite shake the thought of it. After everything they've been through, he can't imagine going through more, even if it is a bit inevitable at this point. He doesn't know if he could bear it. Especially if whatever misfortune the Specter brings involves losing his wife or son. (He is praying it's something trivial, like a flat tire, or someone breaking into his house.)

When he exits the bedroom, Scully is lying in bed on her side, facing the wall. He climbs in behind her, touches her shoulder gently and briefly before settling in. He's ready to fall asleep and try and forget the whole thing, give Scully her space, but she rolls over first, rolls towards him until they're facing each other. “Ryan was in the school,” she says. “In the cafeteria. All that crashing around was probably just from him breaking in.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Seriously? What happened, did he get away?”

“No.” She bites her lower lip, looking away from him. “Sort of. I… I decided to give him a warning.”

His expression shifts to confusion. “A warning?”

“Yes.” She is almost squirming, avoiding his eyes. “I… I don't know why. It just all seems so silly, the whole thing. And he insisted that this was the first time he had broken in. But I told him if I ever caught him doing that again, I'd call the police without hesitation.” She rubs at her forehead with embarrassment, her voice full of shame. “The security system was out, though. We hopefully don't have to worry about it ever getting back to Skinner.”

“Do you believe him?” Mulder asks, astonished and trying like hell not to show it. He's more surprised than angry, it doesn't really matter to him, but he can tell how foolish Scully feels and he hardly wants to make that worse. “That it was his first time?”

Scully rubs her forehead again, presses her palm over her eyes. “I honestly don't know, Mulder. I really do think that he's involved in this… it makes the most sense. I don't know how or why, but I hope he gets his act together. I… I hope that I've made this better instead of worse.”

“I definitely think Ryan has something to do with this,” says Mulder quietly, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, “but I don't think it's the same way that you think so. I think he's a… catalyst of sorts. I think he has a connection to this ghost, and I can't put my finger on it. But I think Joy Seers was right. I think there's more to the legend than people take at face value. And I don't think that Ryan was responsible for what was happening in that school.”

Scully yawns, burrowing down into the covers. “Whether there is or there isn't, it doesn't really matter, does it?” she mumbles, sounding like she wants to drop the subject. “We're going home in the morning. I just hope that no one finds out what happened.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, quietly, and reaches over to turn out the light. They settle in next to each other in the dark, their arms pressed together, hands side by side. Mulder swallows, bumping his finger against hers absently. The adrenaline of the night hasn't completely left him, the implications of his encounter in the hall, and he's grateful that she is close by. As if that can prevent everything bad from happening.

“Do you think I made the wrong decision?” Scully asks softly, and that shame is still in her voice. “To let Ryan go instead of taking him in?”

“No, I don't,” he tells her honestly, covering her hand gently with his. “I think that isn't nearly the worst thing we've gotten away with on the job.” She chuckles at that, and he grins. “I don't see why anyone ever has to know about it,” he adds. “The cameras are out, and I'm not planning to tell anyone. And I'm sure Ryan will keep it to himself. You may have given that kid another chance that he'll take.”

“Mmm,” Scully says, and he can tell by her voice that she is tired. “It feels so convenient, the cameras. Especially considering how much I asked about them earlier. Mulder, I bet Ryan either knew about the system being down or took it down himself, if this really was the first time he'd broken in.”

“Hmm,” he says softly. “Maybe.”

“I guess I just didn't think he was dangerous,” she whispers. “I feel so foolish. I feel like I haven't done my duty as an FBI agent. I don't know what I was thinking.”

“You don't have to know,” he says, and he intertwines his fingers with hers. “You don't.”

She makes a small sound that indicated she disagrees with him, but she doesn't argue. Their elbows bump together companionably. Her palm is cool under his. They fall into quiet again, hands clasped together under the sheets.

Mulder matches his breathing to hers, calm, and he is nearly asleep when he hears a low whistling sound, akin to a moan. The shutters of the windows rattle.

A sudden panic shoots through him at the noise. “Scully, did you hear that?” he whispers.

“It's the wind,” she says, her voice sleepy but hard. “Just the wind, Mulder.”

The wind howls against the glass again and Mulder shivers, crawling closer to Scully. “You sure?” he asks, and she nods, almost growly in her delivery. Scully does not fuck around when she is tired, and he senses she's already in a bad mood from the Ryan Caruthers thing.

But the sound is too human, too eerie, and Mulder can't ignore it. He never thought he'd be this much in regret because of a supernatural encounter, but this is the kind of thing that is too hard to let go. He's as embarrassed as Scully about tonight—embarrassed about how badly he wanted to see the ghost, and embarrassed (and fearful) of the repercussions it will bring.

He drops a light, impulsive kiss on Scully's hair before curling up closer to her than before. He doesn't particularly want to leave Scully anytime soon, not if he can help it. Not with the wind howling like that and with the eerie figure of the Specter hovering at the back of his mind. It's silly, but considering how their last run-in with ghosts went, he doesn't think he's overreacting. He holds her hand tight and lays close to her, and she doesn't protest, and he thinks that is what gives him the courage to say what he says.

He says, nose against her hair, hand on her waist: “Scully, do you want to come back to the house with me tomorrow?”

She says nothing; the only sign of surprise is the slight lilt in her breathing. He adds quickly, “Just… to look over that tip I got last week. The one about the river creature?”

“Oh?” Scully asks, and her voice is very nearly coy. “It doesn't have anything to do with what happened tonight?”

He rubs his nose into her hair; he is moving entirely on impulse now. “If it did,” he says softly, “would it change your answer?”

She's quiet. He can hear every breath. It goes on for so long that he begins to consider pulling away, but she hasn't let go of his hand yet.

Finally, she says, “I hope you're ready. I've been thinking of lots of rebuttals for your river creature theories.”

He laughs, a little nervously, a little relievedly. She squeezes his hand once before letting go. She shifts a little in bed, turning over on her side, but she doesn't move away. His chest is against her back, his arm against her hip, and she doesn't move away.

The wind wails and the shutters rattle, and he thinks that the heat must be broken because he's freezing, but they're together, and she's warm. She is so warm, and she's here, and he loves her. He presses his cheek briefly to the back of her head before settling in to go to sleep.

---

Joy leaves the broken necklace on her desk. It's so dark out, she'd probably just lose it, and she couldn't do anything with it tonight, anyway. She feels nearly naked without it around her neck, but she feels equally relieved at the absence. Her breaths are still ragged, her neck still stinging, her heart still pounding. She can't quiet leave the fright of the moment, sweat slicking her palms, a shivery feeling up her spine. She just wants to get home and fall asleep for a few hours before she'll have to wake up and go back into school. She realizes that tonight hasn't exactly made any progress in the way of getting this ghost out of her classroom, and her temples throb. Tonight seemed like an ending, but she doesn't see why it would be. The ghost is likely still there.

She rubs at her eyes with exhaustion, texts her husband to let him know she'll be home soon and starts her car.

The streets are dark, orange and black streamers hanging limply from street lamps and candy wrappers littering the streets. Joy yawns, making a left turn. Driving in the dark has always given her the creeps. She likes to think it's the product of moving to the country after growing up in the city: no lights, no noises, just endless black and silence. She turns on her brights, just because no one else is on the road, and hums absently to herself, drumming her fingers on the dashboard.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, the radio springs to life. It's playing Monster Mash, and Joy never thought a goofy song like that would bring as much terror as this one does, because her hands were nowhere near the dial.

Spooked, frantic, Joy tries to reach out with her right hand and turn it off, but she can't move. Her hands are frozen, her wrists achey and her fingers spasming around the wheel in her attempts to move, but it's to no avail. She can't reach over and turn off the radio.

Her eyes yank from side to side frantically, the only part of her body she seems to be able to move. And then her foot moves without her meaning to. She presses down harder on the gas, increasing her speed far past the limit.

Joy tries to thrash, tries to break her hands free from the wheel or her foot from the gas, but she still finds herself frozen, helpless. She can't decrease the pressure. The bouncy sound of Monster Mash continues, too loud, echoing in her eardrums. She whimpers, just a little, as she shoots past 70 in a 35 zone. At least there are no other cars in front of her.

Her eyes jerk again, almost painfully, and land on the rearview mirror. There's no one on the road behind her, but there is a shape in the back seat. A hulking, humanoid shape that seems to be watching her.

Joy's breath catches in her throat, unable to take her eyes away, unable to look away. She is helpless. She can't make out the face of whoever, or whatever, is in the backseat, but she thinks it may be smiling. Smiling maliciously.

The next thing she knows, the shape seems to be lunging at her. Her hand suddenly moves, not of their own accord, swerving the wheel hard to the right.

The next thing she knows, everything is going black.

---

November 1, 2016

Willoughby Daily Press; Willoughby, Virginia

SEVERE CAR CRASH ON PINE TREE ROAD LAST NIGHT

Last night, a car swerved off Pine Tree Road and flipped in the adjacent field. The accident was estimated to take place a few minutes before midnight.

The car belongs to a Mrs. Joy Seers, who was reportedly driving the car when it crashed. Mrs. Seers reportedly obtained major injuries, and was transported to Willoughby General Hospital from the scene. No one else was harmed in the wreck.

Seers's husband was contacted, but declined to comment on his wife's condition. According to a source who requested to stay anonymous, Mrs. Seers is in a coma at Willoughby General, and it is unknown when she is expected to wake up.

The Willoughby Police Department declined to comment on the accident. It is assumed that no foul play was involved, although this is unconfirmed.

#xf rewatch #xf fanfic #i wrote this

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phandomsecretvalentines · 7 years ago

Text

Tell Me Everything Will Be Alright

This is my fic (and my first phanfic wow) for the 2018 Phandom Secret Valentines, and my valentine is @citrouillephan!

I hope you enjoy! -from your valentine, @realityfallsapart

tags: fluff, angst, 2009 AU

words: 4.7k

Summary: Dan Howell tends to get lost in his head and his thoughts have a habit of ruling him even when he doesn’t want them to. When he and his best friend finally have a chance at meeting, Dan starts to wonder if he is actually good enough for the amazing human being that is Phil Lester.

(ao3 link)

(Thank you so much to @moonbeamphan for reading this over and helping me! This wouldn’t be as good without you!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dan typed his answer and sent it by hitting enter before leaning back in his chair and letting out a shaky breath that seemed to rattle his insides. His laptop chirped quietly, announcing that Phil had replied to him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at it right away. Finally, after a few moments, he flicked his eyes down to the white screen of the computer in his lap where Phil’s most recent message seemed to glare up at him.

Phil :) (9:47 PM)

i know!

i can’t believe it either!

For a few moment, Dan could do nothing but stare at the screen; at the black words disrupting the artificial white light. It was the only thing that gave Dan any sort of illumination in his room; everything else was dark. He bit his lip and thought about the possible pros and cons of shutting his laptop and burying his head under his duvet to pretend that everything was fine because it was. It’s all fine.

Dan shook his head and reached his hands down to the keyboard. He wouldn't—couldn’t—do that to Phil. Phil deserved so much better than that. His numb fingers typed out a small sentence, only realizing that it had several typos until after he had sent it. He mentally kicked himself for it.

Dan ^-^ (9:51 PM)

Me niether! it seems like thsi would n e v e r happen!

**neither, this

Jeez i can spell

Phil :) (9:51 PM)

idk dan are you sure you can def spell? those seem like some pretty beginner mistakes…

Dan knew Phil was kidding. He knew that it was just Phil playing around with Dan like they normally did. Like they had been doing for months at this point. But in Dan’s heightened state of anxiety and stress, he couldn’t help but berate himself further. God, Phil must think of him as a kid now, he can’t even spell right!

Dan crashed back into his mattress, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid….” he muttered, hitting his forehead with his hand with every word.

Looking back on this moment, Dan would laugh and realize how utterly idiotic his anger with himself was coming from, but right now, in bed with the lights off and by himself, he couldn’t help but magnify the issue. He had been anxious and stressed without a pause this entire week.

He looked up at his ceiling, sighing in growing frustration towards himself, but it wasn’t just because of his inability to catch his typos. In fact, it had nothing to do with them. The typos had just tipped him right over the edge and all of his insecurities crashed over him like waves, his head nearly going under the tide.

To say he wasn’t good enough was an understatement. To say that Phil deserved a much better best friend than Dan was even more of one. Phil was older, more experienced, more mature, funny, smart, kind, and extremely compassionate. He had a great time making pretty successful and entertaining videos (at least in Dan’s opinion, and he would always fight anyone who said otherwise) on the side, on top of balancing life. Dan was younger, so much more less experienced with everything, he got overwhelmed with life and spent the majority of his time curled up under his covers surfing through the waves of his latest existential crisis or playing PC video games that he would forget about within the next 24 hours. He was purgatory in the form of a human and an incredibly underwhelming one at that.

He wasn’t sure how long exactly he laid there, stewing in his self-deprecation and wishing that he was better. Better in literally every aspect, maybe then he would finally be worth Phil’s time, if only a little bit. His computer chirped again, and then twice more minutes later in rapid succession, as if angry. Dan grasped for the thing, pulling it up to his chest, lacking the energy to sit back up.

Phil :) (10:07 PM)

Dan you know im joking right?

Phil :) (10:16 PM)

Dan? you still there? i was joking i promise you can make all the typos you want

u didnt fall asleep did you?

Dan couldn’t help the watery smile that turned the corners of his mouth up, albeit it being a small one. Phil had that effect on him even if Dan was falling apart on the inside. Just a little though, he was fine.

Dan ^-^ (10:18 PM)

nooo im not sleeping

Phil :) (10:18 PM)

Dan ^-^ (10:19 PM)

why the frowny face

Dan tried to keep the fear out of his thoughts but the talons of doubt had already settled around his heart. Was Phil mad that he didn’t answer right away? Would-

His laptop signaled the arrival of Phil’s reply, and Dan really didn’t know if he wanted to slam the lid of his computer shut or jump at the opportunity to find out if he had just ruined the best friendship he had ever had. Ever will. He went for the latter.

(Dan supposed he might be overreacting, but then again, when wasn’t he, it seemed?)

Phil :) (10:20 PM)

did i insult your typing skills one too many times? is that why you disapeared?

*disappeared

Dan used the best coping mechanisms for dealing with his anxiety that he knew: humor and avoidance. Together, they were a formidable force and Dan had spent a large majority of his time perfecting their potency.

Dan ^-^ (10:20 PM)

now look who’s making the typos

Phil :) (10:20 PM)

Dan.

He gulped. Now he had done it. Fuck. He had to fix this.

Dan ignored the roar behind his ears that seemed to be screaming that he should just ignore this all, pray that things would magically fix themselves and change the topic. That was his fear talking. His self-abandonment. His anxiety. His everything. Phil was worth so much more. So Dan pushed it all away for just long enough to reply.

Dan ^-^ (10:21 PM)

sorry, joke

no, thats not why i ran away

i was just thinking, thats all

Phil :) (10:21 PM)

were you doing it again

Dan tried to pretend that he didn’t know what Phil was talking about and simultaneously cursed himself for telling Phil about his increasing habit for getting lost in his thoughts. He failed. He knew exactly what Phil was talking about.

Back, about three weeks ago in a later-than-normal conversation where all of their inhibitions seemed to dissipate, Dan had finally come clean about how sometimes thoughts got the best of him. He would crumble under them, get so completely and utterly lost in his head that he would sometimes stay there for hours on end, picking apart anything that his conscience decided to dig up. And it hindered Dan, made him hate himself just that much more, made him hate how easily his anxieties held him hostage, stuck. But he couldn’t do much about it, it seemed, for whenever he got lost in his head, he always forgot that he had to get out.

Dan gulped. He had to lie his way out of this. He knew that Phil didn’t like it when Dan got stuck. He could pull off nonchalance, right?

Dan ^-^ (10:22 PM)

Phil :) (10:22 PM)

im not convinced

you were werent you

Dan ^-^ (10:23 PM)

does my word not count for anything lol

Phil :) (10:24 PM)

maybe if we were talking and i could see your face it’d count

Dan ^-^ (10:24 PM)

what’s my face got to do with anything?

Phil’s bubble appeared on the screen once, twice, three times, before he apparently decided on what he was going to say and sent it. The entire time Dan was a few words away from having a breakdown. His hands were shaking. His mind was racing faster than normal. Faster than it had in what seemed like a very long time.

Phil :) (10:26 PM)

bc then i could tell if you were lying

tho rn i dont even need that

Dan ^-^ (10:26 PM)

are u seriously saying im lying

Phil :) (10:27 PM)

yeah

you did everything that you always do when you arent telling the truth

you joked

changed / focused the conversation onto smth else

and besides

ive gathered that you really dont like to talk about the things that bother you. you like to ignore them and stuff

Dan ^-^ (10:28 PM)

so how bout we not talk about them then

Phil :) (10:29 PM)

normally, maybe

but not with this

Dan ^-^ (10:29 PM)

and why not?

Phil :) (10:29 PM)

bc i dont like it when you beat yourself up in your head

Dan ^-^ (10:30 PM)

who said i was beating myself up in my head

Phil :) (10:30 PM)

… dan :/

youre avoiding again

Dan cursed himself. God, since when could Phil read him like a book?

Dan ^-^ (10:32 PM)

fine. maybe i am

what are you gonna do about it philly?

Phil :) (10:32 PM)

daaaaannnnnn

you arent allowed to beat yourself up

no ones allowed to

especially you!

Dan giggled, just a little. He couldn’t help it when Phil was being…well, Phil.

Dan ^-^ (10:33 PM)

and why not? Hmm?

Phil :) (10:34 PM)

bc youre my favorite person silly

my favorite person cant be sad. its just the rules

Dan ^-^ (10:35 PM)

oh yeah? whose rules then, oh wise philip

Phil :) (10:35 PM)

ew dont call me philip my nan calls me that

and theyre my rules

my rules for my favorite person

Dan ^-^ (10:35 PM)

suuurrreee phil. sure its a rule

*philip

Phil’s cursor didn’t appear seconds after Dan had sent his message like usual. Insead, nothing appeared. Their good-natured banter had eased the storm raging inside of Dan and his thoughts and anxieties had died down a little, much more easier to bear with the distraction Phil was giving him, but with the sudden disappearance of his best friend, they came back full force. All of his doubts spilled into the front of his conscience. He shivered. It wasn’t from the cold.

Dan watched the little digital clock at the bottom of his laptop screen count the minutes falling away. One, two, three, four, five, god did what did he do-

Phil :) (10:41 PM)

[multimedia image: click to load]

With his heart in his throat, Dan clicked, and a small window appeared, momentarily covering their chat from Dan’s view. It was hard to make out, the quality bad and the image itself grainy and dark, but it was of a piece of paper lying atop two legs clad in bright pyjamas that Dan could immediately connect to Phil and his eccentric personality. He could make out the tip of Phil’s finger at the top of the shot, too. Squinting, he looked at the paper itself, zooming in to make out the words penned in Phil’s handwriting.

Rules:

1. Dan Howell is my favorite person

2. No one is allowed to make fun of him

3. ESPECIALLY if that “no one” is Dan himself

Dan started to laugh. Only Phil would actually make a list of “rules”. Only Phil.

Before Dan could reply, Phil was typing again.

Phil :) (10:43 PM)

there. proper rules written on proper paper. you have to follow them now

Dan ^-^ (10:44 PM)

i cant believe that you actually wrote rules you spork

but fine! i guess if i have to lol

Dan was still working heavily with avoiding the whole situation entirely, just like with what he was doing to the problem causing him so much stress to begin with, but he couldn’t help it. It’s just how he was.

Phil :) (10:46 PM)

so you admit to your crimes xD

but anyways

you were stuck in your head again

which is okay, i mean, i understand that it’s something you cant help

Dan felt like he was going to cry. Phil’s assurance that Dan’s mind running in panicked circles was perfectly okay was almost too much. Phil’s compassion was almost too much.

But it appeared that Phil wasn’t done, because his laptop dinged quietly again.

Phil :) (10:47 PM)

can i ask whats got you so sad and worried

so i can beat it up

obvs

Now Dan really wanted to cry. How could he tell Phil that the reason was him? How could he say that the root of this ball of anxiety and stress and worrying that had taken over him was Phil himself?

He couldn’t do that to Phil, not when his best friend would undoubtedly take it hard. God, if Phil knew why Dan kept getting lost in himself, he would be crushed.

Dan ^-^ (10:51 PM)

noooo

Phil :) (10:51 PM)

are you sure? i wont judge you dan, i swear it doesnt matter if you think i wont like it

i just wanna be here for you

If Dan wasn’t crying earlier, he was now, a few select tears dripping down his cheeks, brimming with the emotions that had been taking over him this past week. Phil was…too much. He was too kind, too sweet, too undeserving of someone like Dan. God, Phil deserved the whole world, he shouldn’t have to settle with Dan.

Another message appeared on Dan’s screen, as but this one didn’t seem like normal, it was a little off, a little rushed, a little…something. Dan couldn’t place it.

Phil :) (10:53 PM)

bc youre my best friend.

obvs. xD

If Dan wasn’t so out of it and was able to think clearly, he might have questioned Phil’s “clarification” of why and what sense he wanted to be there for him, but Dan was not in the best state of mind and he thought nothing of it.

Dan looked at his screen again. He still had to acknowledge Phil’s question, and he wasn’t sure how to go about it. He wanted to tell Phil he already told him everything, have Phil reassure him and tell him that everything was going to be okay again, like he normally did. But Dan couldn’t. He couldn’t lie again, once was already once too many, and something told Dan that if he tried to ignore it or change the topic, Phil would just call him out again.

Fuck.

Dan ^-^ (10:56 PM)

it doesnt matter

Phil :) (10:56 PM)

yes it does

its enough to make you get lost in that head of yours, so it matters

Dan ^-^ (10:57 PM)

phil we both know it doesnt take much for me to get lost in my thoughts

Phil :) (10:58 PM)

still

something is bothering you and i want to fix it

Dan bit his lip. God, Phil had no idea how badly he wanted to let him fix this. He couldn’t though. He just couldn’t.

Dan ^-^ (10:58 PM)

nooo phil, you cant fix this one

Phil :) (10:58 PM)

>:(

you cant even let me try?

Always, always, but just not with this. Dan couldn’t tell Phil this, not when it would hurt him.

Dan ^-^ (11:00 PM)

no phil, not with this sorry :(

Phil :) (11:01 PM)

:((((

okay

i may not like it but i can respect that

will you tell me tomorrow?

Dan looked at the screen, thinking about it. Tomorrow was what he was worried about to begin with. Could he tell Phil tomorrow? He wasn’t sure. Well, it didn’t matter if things went good or not, Dan mused, tomorrow Dan’s fears would either be affirmed or destroyed.

He could only hope.

Dan ^-^ (11:03 PM)

sure

tomorrow

Phil :) (11:03 PM)

yay!!!

Dan laughed, breathily.

Phil :) (11:03 PM)

oooh! look at the time!

its getting so late bear wow

guess we should get to sleep so we dont fall asleep on each other tomorrow huh? xD

Dan’s heart physically melted at the use of Phil’s pet name for him. He only used it occasionally, but it never failed to make Dan’s heart stutter in his chest and the butterflies in his belly to flit around faster, making him feel almost giddy. Hopeful.

God he sounded so stupid right now. Anxious and stressed out of his mind yet still acting like a little kid with their first crush.

Stupid feelings.

Dan ^-^ (11:05 PM)

yeah i guess we should!

night philly :)

Phil :) (11:05 PM)

goodnight dan!! :D

see you tomorrow!

(ps, idk whats bothering you and thats okay but i hope whatever it is it works out for you :“) )

Ah yes. That’s what it boiled down to. Tomorrow morning Dan would board a train and take it up to Manchester to spend some time with Phil. The first time that they would see each other in real life, not just behind a computer screen. They had skyped before and texted and chatted for countless hours over countless days, but the thought of tomorrow still made Dan want to throw up.

He wasn’t good enough for Phil. He was just so terrified that tomorrow Phil would see that.

Dan ^-^ (11:06 PM)

After hitting send Dan thrust the lid to his laptop down and pushed it off of his chest, letting it fall onto the bed. Dan felt sick again. He was so scared about tomorrow because there were so many things that could go wrong and so many flaws that Phil could discover about Dan and so many, so many, ways for what is supposed to be the best day of Dan’s life to turn out to be his worst.

God, he hated his anxiety for always picking things apart. Always fucking with Dan’s own head.

Dan rolled over and grabbed his duvet, pulling it up and wishing that it would just swallow him whole. Fuck. He couldn’t do it tomorrow. He couldn’t handle this stress.

Taking a deep breath, Dan clutched his duvet tighter in his grasp and tried to keep his lip from wobbling.

Right now he just wanted to sleep. He wanted to forget that he didn’t feel good enough, that yet again his insecurities were screwing him over, that he wanted to cry. He wanted to forget. Unfortunately for Dan the universe didn’t agree and he ended up staying awake for hours after the he had closed his laptop, the entire time doing nothing but thinking, getting lost in his head, and wishing that his thoughts would just turn off.

For once.

Please.

~~~~~~

Dan slung his bag over his shoulder. His fingers felt numb. Unlike his greatest hopes, the fitful-at-best night’s sleep did nothing to alleviate Dan’s terror. If anything, it had only magnified it because now it was today and Dan couldn’t run anymore.

He took a cab to the station, and he ended up being earlier than he needed to be, having about an extra ten minutes to wait for his train. He sat on a bench, his legs nothing but jelly at this point, his fears making it quite easy to foresee his long legs from just giving out on him. Dan didn’t want to make an embarrassment of himself on top of it all, so he tried to calm his racing heart while he sat.

With no luck.

Of course.

Dan looked down at the ticket in his hand. It would be so easy to not go. To walk right out of the station, spend the weekend at home instead of with Phil, and not risk Phil seeing how utterly underwhelming Dan was as a person. He could lie, could say that he ran late, missed his train, maybe his parents changed their minds and didn’t let Dan go.

But God, as Dan looked down at the paper in his trembling hand, he couldn’t help but know that he wouldn’t be able to actually go through with not leaving. He wouldn’t be able to lie to Phil, not about something this big—who was he kidding, he had a hard enough time lying to Phil last night over something so small!

But more than that, Dan knew that it was much more than not being able to lie to Phil. He had wanted to meet Phil ever since he had started to watch his videos, and the sentiment had only increased tenfold with their fast friendship. Phil was now much more than a hero, much more than a few minutes of distraction. He was Phil, Dan’s AmazingPhil, and he was his best friend. That lanky black-haired boy was worth so so much in Dan’s eyes, and he couldn’t, couldn’t, leave him in the dust like that. God it wouldn’t just kill Phil, but it would kill Dan too. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Dan had been thinking too hard. Before he knew it the train was pulling into the station and Dan gulped, raising on still-shaky legs and gripping the strap of his bag so hard he didn’t even have to look to know that his knuckles were blotched white.

As Dan took his seat, a new resolve washed over him. He would go. He would endure this train ride that undoubtedly would be the most anxiety-inducing thing he had done in a very long time—possibly ever—and he would do it for Phil. If Phil would reject him or not, he would try not to dwell on it on the coming trip (a losing battle, Dan knew), but he would still go.

For Phil.

~~~~~

Dan’s heart was going so fast he was sure that he was going to pass out. His hands, his arms, legs, his whole body was trembling.

Manchester’s Piccadilly Station.

Dan was here.

There was a decent amount of people on the station as far as Dan could see as the train pulled in, but none of them looked like his best friend.

The train came to a stop and Dan stood, the first to make it to the doors and there when they opened.

Strangely enough, when the doors pulled open and Dan took a step out into the station, he stopped trembling. His heart slowed—not by much, but it slowed—and this whole thing didn’t seem quite as scary. Sure, Dan’s thoughts were still screaming in his head, sure, his anxiety was still off the charts, and sure, his hands were still sweaty and his breath was still shallow but still. It was as if a calm had washed over him.

Dan wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe he was just going into shock.

People busied around him, walking this way and that, talking into cell phones, to other people, some silent. Dan, unsure of everything right now, followed where the general push of people were guiding him, the whole time craning his head, looking for his Phil. He tried not to panic. He tried.

But with every second the calm that had overtook him was shrinking and his anxiety steadily increased.

Did Phil forget? Did he stand me up? Oh God he’s not coming he didn’t come-

"Dan!”

Dan whirled around at the sound of his name, uttered by a voice that sounded so much better when it wasn’t distorted by their shitty computer’s speakers.

Before Dan could register really anything, he was being engulfed in a hug, two strong arms wrapping themselves around Dan’s shoulders, pulling him flush against the figure.

Against Phil.

And instantly all of the shouting in Dan’s head was gone. The slight tremble in his hands vanished, and for the first time in a week, his anxiety was gone without a trace. Dan felt like crying.

Dan gasped in surprise, his brain taking a moment to reboot because Phil didn’t forget, didn’t stand him up, didn’t change his mind, and suddenly Dan felt very, very stupid because how could he ever think that Phil would do something like that. This was Phil, the kindest person on the planet.

Phil pulled away, just a little, just enough so they could see each other’s faces, and Dan had to keep himself from pulling Phil back in.

His smile was so wide, easily the widest Dan had ever seen it. And his eyes, oh God those eyes were a thousand times clearer, a thousand times more mesmerizing than behind a screen. Dan didn’t doubt for a second that he could stand here and look into them for the rest of the day without tiring of their never-ending beauty. Fuck. Why did his eyes have to be so gorgeous.

Dan tore his eyes away from Phil’s and looked over the rest of him, from his broad shoulders that Dan wanted to wrap his arms around, to the tussle of his hair that Dan craved to run his fingers through and the line of his jaw that Dan felt the need to trace. Double fuck. Why did the entirety of Phil have to be gorgeous.

“Dan! I can’t believe you’re here! I have today all planned out; I’m going to show you everything!” Phil said excitedly, a twinkle as clear as day in his eyes. Phil was practically vibrating with excitement and it made a smile spread over Dan’s features. Phil’s happiness was contagious.

Phil stopped his rambling, looking down at Dan sheepishly.

“I mean, if that’s all okay with you. If you don’t want to do something that’s okay, I totally get it. We can do anything you want, I-”

Dan tilted his head back and laughed, laughed because Phil seemed nervous. Phil was nervous and it was adorable.

“Yeah, yeah Phil it’s all fine. All of it, don’t worry. I just can’t believe you want to do it all with me.”

Phil’s smile faded a little, and the twinkle in his eye got that much smaller. He looked a little sad.

“Was this what you were so worried about? That I wouldn’t like you?”

Dan bit his lip and looked down, giving a little nod.

Phil pulled Dan right back into a hug, but this time it felt even more real, and it was impossibly tighter. It felt like Phil was pulling all of Dan’s lost pieces together. Phil’s voice was in his ear.

“Of course I like you, Dan. You’re my best friend. I like you more than anyone else. Promise.”

Dan might have just felt like crying, in that moment. Phil accepted him. He wasn’t going to leave him. Things were okay. They were okay.

He knew that this would hit him later, maybe tonight when he had a chance to process things. He’d probably cry out of relief, but it would all be okay because Phil would be there to hold him together and ease all of Dan’s worries.

Soon enough they set off, hand in hand, and Dan was smiling so wide, so, so wide. He couldn’t have been happier with how things had turned out.

Dan looked sideways at Phil, trying to not be too obvious.

This had worked out so maybe, just maybe, something else could work out for him.

~~~~~

Dan stood at the window, a cup of coffee in his hand. It was early, and he could see the technicolor dream across the sky that was that morning’s sunrise. The steam from his coffee rose from the rim of the cup and slowly diffused into nothing; tendril-like hands wisped up and around Dan’s neck.

It had been nearly nine years.

Dan’s nervousness and dark thoughts never ceased to plague him, however, he learned to deal with it better. He could confidently say that he has never been happier.

It had been nearly nine years, and they were still inseparable. Their channels had grown exponentially, and they boasted an insanely large fan community.

As the years had gone by, their strong, unbreakable friendship slowly blossomed into something remarkably beautiful. Their long Skype calls turned into late night kisses, and they had been happily in love for nearly nine years.

Dan twisted the ring on his third finger. As well as being happily in love, they were also engaged to be married within the next year. Lately, he’d been waking up in complete disbelief.

The thing Dan had wanted so desperately to work out for him did, and in the most perfectly perfect way possible.

#submission

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natural--trash · 8 years ago

Text

Tag thing, wanted to do it for some time but now im at my comp and stuff so uh yeah anyways

Rules: once you’ve been tagged you’re supposed to write a post with eighty-two truths and then tag twenty-five people

I was tagged by @fluffyliontae

Name: tsu (just call me that, or susu or smth yknow)

Blood type: A-

Nickname(s): susu, mym

R/s: single

Zodiac Sign: libra

Pronouns: eh whatever, on some days its he > she > they but it can also be a diff order so yeah seriously whatever floats your boat

Favorite TV Shows: W - Two Worlds (same), a Persona 5 anime could be one of them but there’s none

Long or short hair: long

Height: 162cm or so

Do you have a crush on someone: romantic none, aesthetic ones? squishes? hoo boy

What do you like about yourself: my eyes, that cute scar on my hand

Right or left handed: right

List of three favorite colors: too many, i mostly like colour combos, but light blue, black and #540003 i guess

RIGHT NOW

Eating: nothing, i had brownie ritter sport a bit earlier tho

Drinking: water

I’m about to: draw

Listening to: Believer - Imagine Dragons

Kids: 0

Get married: nah

Career: I want money

MOST RECENT

Drink: water

Phone call: i think my uncle??

Song you listened to: before Believer there’s Bonfire on my spotify playlist but rn its Queen by History

HAVE YOU EVER

Dated someone twice: nah

Been cheated on: thats a long story

Kissed someone and regretted it: dont think so

Lost someone special: hmm

Been depressed: yeah

Been drunk and thrown up: never drunk alcohol

Kissed a stranger: nope

Had glasses or contacts: yeah

Had sex on the first date: nope

Broken someone’s heart: not that im aware of it

Turned someone down: kinda??

Cried when someone died: yeah

Fallen for a friend: im aro, that doesnt work

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU

Made a new friend: yes

Fallen out of love: no

Laughed until you cried: yes

Met someone who changed you: mhhh dont think so?

Found out who your true friends were: kinda (I’m sorry that I’m always answering like this omg)

Found out someone was talking about you: cant remember

Kissed someone on your fb list: i dont use fb

WHICH IS BETTER

Lips or eyes: eyes

Hugs or kisses: hugs

Shorter or taller: taller

Romantic or spontaneous: platonic

Sensitive or loud: sensitive

Hookup or relationship: friendship

Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

FIRST

Best friend: have conatct with both or them but we’re not as close? although I still don’t mind lying/rolling around on his floor

Surgery: does removing my wisdom teeth count? (does it?)

Sport: swimming (I wish I hadn’t stopped)

Vacation: Turkey

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

Yourself: depends on the day (same)

Miracles: yeah

Love at first sight: i dont rly believe in romantic love, but other than that yeah has flashbacks to when x impulse bought a ps vita

Heaven: i want to

EXTRAS

How many people from your fb list do you know irl: i still dont use fb

Do you have any pets: i used to have a duck

Do you want to change your name: yeah kinda i’d prefer something gender neutral

What did you do for your last birthday: i played video games at home bc i have no friends

What time did you wake up today: idk, fell asleep again

What were you doing last night at midnight: internet

Something you can’t wait for: when i move out

Last time you saw your mom: some minutes ago

What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: how my brain is sometimes

Have you ever talked to a person named tom: yeah, had a classmate with that name

What’s getting on your nerves: loud noises in the morning, often ppl i dont consider as friends

instructions: You can tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. Put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people. No skipping.

(should i do the whole thing?? ok lemme get my phone pls note that i havent gotten the p5 ost yet)

Obtained a Berry! - DP OST

actually there comes some more Nintendo OST

Awake -BTS

Young Forever (unplugged ver) - BTS

crow tit (jpn) - bts

Mein Block - Sido

We don’t talk anymore - Jungkook

a song i do not remember what it was

Faint - Linkin Park

La la La - naughty boy

i think its time to make a new playlist bc i dont listen to some pop songs anymore

so uh yeah the whole thing it is

5 things you’d find in my bag:

tissues, a shit ton

wallet

probably some paper

charger

phone

5 things you’d find in my bedroom:

desk

clothes

stuffed animals

bed

my computer

5 things i always wanted to do in life:

Travelmore

Get a job i love

Own a cat

Get a life I like

Have ppl I’m close with that are not far away

5 things i’m currently into:

video games

persona 5, fire emblem heroes (they deserve their own point)

kpop

art

ummm edgesthetic?

5 things on my to do list:

go to a BTS concert

get a part time job

learn Japanese and perhaps Korean and get better at French

visit all the countries I still want to go to

get better at drawing

5 things people may not know about me:

I would love to study video game development but I’m too scared of what’s after that plus there’s no way I’ll get accepted hahaha

i love min yoongi and his mixtape bc he idk he helped me think that maybe not everything in my life will be shitty later and that maybe I’ll be able to be happy one day

I’m currently in a more down phase

i have problems with my sense of reality

i have a cute scar on my hand

Top 10 BTS Songs Tag:

House Of Cards (Full Length Edition)

House Of Cards [OUTRO]

Good Day

No order from here on

4. I NEED U (Japanese Ver.) 5. FOR YOU 6. 쩔어 (Dope) 7. 등골브레이커 (Spine breaker) 8. 24/7 = Heaven 9. Blood Sweat & Tears 10. Not Today

I have time

10 groups/artists you like besides Kpop/liked before Kpop:

nqrse ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Fall Out Boy

Panic! at the Disco

DAOKO ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Casper

Die Ärzte

I think that’s it

DAT ADAM

uhh I liked Abingdon Boys School at some point

idk the old Sido songs aint bad?

10 favorite non-kpop songs:

ダイスキ - DAOKO

BANG! - DAOKO

Das Grizzly Lied - Casper

パラサイト(Parasite) - nqrse feat.まふまふ,luz

ECHO - まふまふ (mafumafu) feat.nqrse

p much any song sung by nqrse im sorry im trash hmu and ill link you some good stuff

Believer - Imagine Dragons

Bonfire - Felix Jaehn, ALMA

Die Vergessenen 1/2 - Casper

omg i totally forgot about OSTs Toberu Mono from The Last Stiry, too much from Persona 5 liek Beneath the Mask, Last Surprise etc

10 favorite movies:

i don’t watch enough :c

10 favorite tv shows, including anime & cartoons:

W - Two Worlds

Acchi Kocchi

Psycho Pass

I’m giving up

10 things you enjoyed before kpop/enjoy besides kpop, that won’t fit in the lists above:

music

art

video games

esp atlus n nintendo games!!

cute soft stuffed animals

flight rising

sarma

collecting cute key charms

collecting cute things in general

dancing

ten tag last movie you watched: i dont know

last song you listened to: that one song mentioned above by Daoko

last show you watched: I Hear Your Voice

last book you read: Der Vorleser by Bernhard Schlink, don’t read it

last thing you ate: chocolate

if you could be anywhere in the world right now where would you be: Tokyo

when would you time travel to: itll be spontaneous

first thing you would do with lottery money: buy a loft

character you would hang out with for a day: P5 Protagonist

time right now: 23:52

the ‘or’ tag

build a snowman with v OR have a snowball fight with j-hope

get coffee with suga OR get ice cream with suga

go to the cinema with jimin OR the amusement park with jungkook

do a dance cover with j-hope OR sing a duet with jin

kiss rap monster OR cuddle suga

babysit with jimin OR dogsit with v

meet j-hope’s family OR have v meet your family

film a commercial with j-hope OR film a sketch with v

hug jimin OR hold hands with jungkook

go to paris with jin OR go to london with suga (sorry been to paris already)

film a drama with jin OR do a photo shoot with rap monster

attend an award show with rap monster OR wear couple t-shirts at the airport with jungkook

spend a lazy day with suga OR explore a city with j-hope

fall asleep next to jimin OR wake up next to jungkook

make up a silly rap with v OR a silly choreography with jin

have a fun picnic with j-hope OR a fancy date with jin

have jungkook serenade you OR have v sing you to sleep

have a dance party with j-hope OR sing karaoke with suga

go camping with jimin and v OR go to the beach with rap monster and suga

cook with jin AND bake a cake with jimin

have a sleepover with the hyung line OR a birthday party with the maknae line

celebrate halloween with jungkook, suga, v and j-hope OR christmas with rap monster, jimin and j-hope

rules: answer the questions with the first letter of your name, then tag 10 people. If the person who tagged you has the same initial, you must use different answers. you cannot use the same word twice.

What is your name? - Tsu

A four letter word? - text

A boy’s name? - Tom

An occupation? - tailor

Something you wear? - t-shirt

A color? - turquoise

A food? - tomato

Something you find in the bathroom? - toilet

A place? - Tokyo

A reason for being late? - traffic

Something you shout? - yells

A movie title? - something that starts with “the”

Something you drink? - tea

An animal? - turtle

A type of car? - tesla

Title of a song? - Tage wie diese - die toten hosen

I’m,,, maybe later @mama-kisu @metroid-fr (you can do the non kpop stuff) eh whoever wants i guess

#upgraded trash

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