#but I have no idea if Fox can handle 7 kids

[anxiousotters]

Your WIP sheet is a banquet!!! ☆:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:☆ I don't want to be a prompts hog but I am SO curious, so I will try and behave and ask you about only 3 of them:

1. pretty please tell me of your Paxe agenda in Child of Divorce u__u

2. Fox and the burr basics!!! *redacted yelling*

3. SUPER torn between the Hockey AU and the Helix/Tranq Gun ship tag. Your choose!!! I am cheating at my own self imposed rule. I am very sorry.

And thank you!!! ∑d(°∀°d) They all sound awesome!!!!

AHHHHHH thank you so much for the ask!! <3

1. My Paxe agenda is short and sweet:

Slowly influence my mutuals into shipping paxe

Finish and post the first two fics in the series I’m writing to really hook them in

Finish and post Child of Divorce, enemies/rivals to lovers paxe fic with forced proximity due to their messy split custody of one Ragnar Vizsla-Woves

???

Profit

2. I AM SCREAMING WITH YOU I’VE BEEN HOLDING ONTO THIS ONE FOR SO LONG

Basically, Fox is a lawyer caught up in a really nasty case where a crooked politician (*cough cough* Palpatine) is trying to cover up the abuse happening at a foster home, and Fox’s only option to save the kids is to adopt. All of them.

Anyways he’s now got four deeply traumatized boys to care for (Thorn, Thire, Stone, and Hound) and a busy career as a criminal prosecutor. He’s a working mom. He’s so tired. (He might get some help from a certain social worker assigned to the case 👀👀)

3. I’m gonna go with Helix/ Tranq gun because it’s my favourite crack ship. Helix loves this gun. He’s married to this gun. He likes to shoot his idiot, medbay-evading COs with this gun. He might even like using the tranq gun to take down larger, more dangerous prey like… hm… I don’t know…

Sith?

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 7: The Moment That Mattered Most

Prompt: "Follow me if you want to live"

Remember that scene in "Essence" when Mulder pushes Scully toward Krycek so he can protect her? Yeah, that does not happen here. Rating: T, wc: 886.

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

"No." The single word out of Scully's mouth was quiet, but her actions were louder anyway. She stared at Mulder, whose face began to disappear between the elevator doors, but she put her arm between them, forcing them to open up again.

"What are you doing?" Mulder grumbled, pushing buttons.

"I'm not doing this, Mulder."

"We don't have time for chit-chat," Krycek barked, grabbing Scully's arm. "Follow me, if you want to live." There was no need to be so dramatic; she knew what was at stake.

Her baby.

With a hand on her protruding stomach, she glanced at Mulder. Many years ago, long before this baby, and even before their first kiss, he had said that she'd saved him. That even if he wanted to do - and he didn't want to - he didn't know if he could fight this fight without her. They hadn't quit then, and she wouldn't quit now.

"I'm not leaving without you," she said to Mulder. "I'm not having this baby without you."

"Scully," he said, half pleading.

"I can't do this alone." Months ago she had thought she'd have to all of this on her own, with only his memory as her companion. Now, she wouldn't accept it. He was there and he’d promised to be by her side. She reached out to him, needing him to understand.

"You two are insufferable." Krycek ran a hand over his face before he regarded them with narrow, determined eyes. "Okay, fuck it. Get her out of here, Mulder. I know how to handle Billy Miles. I'll do it."

"You'll help us." Scully had rejoined Mulder in the elevator.

"Congrats, you two, by the way," Krycek said with a smirk, gesturing at Scully's stomach. "Now go and make sure your kid isn't born in an elevator and snatched by a super soldier. Go!"

And this is how it went. The elevator door closed and Mulder took Scully's hand. They heard it all go down, but they were safe. Guarded by their friends – and at least one foe – they made it out of the building without a scratch, or without anyone following them. A few days later, Mulder once again took Scully’s hand while he whispered words of encouragement and love into her ear until she held their red-faced, squishy miracle in their arms.

"And that, baby William, is the story of your life so far," Mulder whispers the words – and the end of his story - against the warm, soft skin of his newborn son. Holding the feather-light baby in his arms, he glances over at Scully in her hospital bed and is overwhelmed by the love he feels.

"Here's my first piece of advice to you," he murmurs as the baby sniffles in sleep, "your mom is always right. The story just proved that, didn’t it? She has the best ideas and just between us, baby William, she’s stubborn as a mule."

"Why do you keep calling him baby William?" Mulder lifts his eyes and sees that Scully is awake, smiling at them and ignoring that he just compared her to a mule.

"Because," Mulder says, transferring the infant back into her arms, "there are so many Williams in our family already."

"We can still change his name," Scully says, tracing William's features. "We can call him Fox Jr."

"Will." Mulder crouches down and talks to his son. "I take it all back. Your mom doesn't always have the best ideas."

"So we're sticking with William?" One hand on the baby, she uses the other one to touch Mulder's hair, softly ruffling it.

"It fits him," Mulder says, observing the boy. "I like it. William Scully III."

"No. William Scully-Mulder the First." Mulder just stares at her, wondering if he should ask her to marry him. He's had the ring for a while. A long while. He wants to make it official. It's him, Scully, and William against the world. Super soldiers, monsters, and anyone who wants to cause them harm will have to go through him.

"You were right," he says.

"I already like where this is going."

"To pull me back from fighting Billy Miles. All I could think about was protecting you. I thought... I thought fighting him was the best way to do that. I was wrong."

"Your heart was in the right place," Scully assures him. "I just couldn't let them win this one. I wanted you here with me. I knew you'd protect us, no matter what."

And he didn't have to because Skinner, Krycek, and Doggett handled it all. William might have been born in the middle of nowhere, but at least it was in a hospital. No one had come here. No one had threatened them. For now, they were free.

Scully's eyelids start to droop. Having read all the books in the little time he had, he knows that Scully should sleep whenever the baby is sleeping.

"Let me take baby William," he says softly, lifting the sleeping infant from Scully's arms. “I’ll wake you when he gets hungry.”

"Thank you, Mulder," Scully mumbles, already half asleep.

"I'll keep watch," he promises Scully, kissing William's forehead. Tomorrow, they will step back into the real world. They will go home and build a life together. “Tonight, tomorrow,” he promises his son, “and every day after.”

[azertyrobaz]

I decided to innovate a bit and write something different than usual for Day 2. I've been completely taken by The Wild Robot lately, so here's a small story about Fink and Brightbill.

As always, prompts are here if you want to have a look! I will also be creating a collection on ao3 as soon as possible for everyone to use if they want. :)

************

“Can we go say hi to Paddler?”

Fink’s day was ruined. Ruined. He’d intended to go hunt for some tasty eggs away from prying impressionable eyes and nagging robotic voices, but he’d just been relegated to babysitting duties. For 4 hours. FOUR HOURS. This was the ridiculous amount of time Roz needed to recharge her batteries. The sun had just appeared in the sky after several long grey and rainy days during which the robot had drained all her power.

“Nothing a goose expert shouldn’t be able to handle,” she had said. And was that sarcasm he’d heard in her usually no-nonsense voice? The robot was clearly spending far too much time around him. But he had detected something else in her tone – worry. And not just because her lack of resources meant her voice had started to sound wobbly and faint. Fink knew very well she had no one else to ask. Sure, Pinktail would have been a smarter choice – a saner choice – but with 7 kids of her own and an understandable knack for forgetting their names and current locations, Roz had rejected the idea.

Which meant she’d chosen him. Deliberately. Consciously. No one ever chose Fink. For anything. Least of all to protect another life. And yet…

“Yes, let’s go see Paddler,” he replied, and the still incredibly small gosling jumped on his back with a happy tweet. And so they went to see Paddler and agreed that yes, that giant tree wasn’t going to fall today. Or tomorrow. Or probably even this century. After that, the kid wanted to go say hi to the rabbits. The mice. The bloody raccoons. Those damn squirrels.

“Bonjour! Guten Tag! Hujambo! Hola!”

He never tired of saying it – he greeted everyone they came across. And at first he never seemed to grow sad when he barely received any reply. He was the monster’s son after all, and Fink was just…well, Fink. The fox did grow restless and snarled a couple of times, ready to pounce on anyone who would dare not show a modicum of kindness to that sweet though deluded kid. But Roz had entrusted said kid’s wellbeing to him. As much as he wanted to bite and punch and yell at those thoughtless invertebrates, he couldn’t lose his cool. Not yet, at least. Nothing was stopping him from returning later to get his revenge.

This was made especially clear when Brightbill sighed deeply and mumbled “Why does no one want to be my friend?”

“They’re morons,” Fink replied automatically, which earned him a small smile.

“That’s a bad word, mom says bad words should be avoided.”

“Well, your mom isn’t here, and this one can’t be avoided. They are morons.”

Brightbill laughed whole heartedly this time.

“Can we go see if there are some fresh berries behind the old oak?” he asked, and Fink agreed.

Funny, saying yes to everything was proving easy. Telling the truth, too. Which went against everything in his nature. His programming, Roz would say, and he realized he was missing the robot a little. More than a little. Surely she would be recharged soon.

“What is your mommy like? Is she like Roz?”

“Is she a robot, you mean?” he replied quickly, deflecting. Perhaps telling the truth wasn’t actually always so easy or so wise. There were things Brightbill didn’t need to hear.

“No,” the gosling chuckled, “but she must have been good at telling stories, you tell good stories.”

Fink paused in his foraging. They had found so very tasty raspberries.

“They’re better than mom’s, but don’t tell her!” the child added.

“My mother wasn’t very nice,” Fink eventually admitted, because for once he didn’t feel like lying so much. “And my siblings bickered a lot and didn’t really like me either.”

“Oh,” Brightbill said in a small voice, and looked up at him with those big sad eyes that always managed to unravel something deep inside of him. Something he wasn’t sure he wanted to touch. Ever.

“But it meant I got very good at other things,” he went on with more assurance. “Like reading people and knowing how they will react in any given situation.”

“Which made you good at telling stories!” the kid concluded, and he certainly wasn’t wrong there, even if Fink had never looked at things that way.

“Exactly,” he agreed, because why not.

“And good at finding the best spots on the island for berries.”

“That, too.”

Brightbill went back to eating, and Fink took a deep breath in – this had gone much better than he had expected. And that uneasy feeling inside him had morphed into something much nicer. Much warmer.

“Can we go see if mom is awake now?”

“Yes, let’s go,” Fink agreed immediately.

[thepigeontarot]

Hi pigeon!

I’m hoping for a reading. Now let’s see how I can word what I’m inquiring about lol there’s this woman, I swiped on her on this dating app. We did not match. Time goes by and now I’m working with her. I kinda feel this pull between us. I was attracted from the get go. Ohh yeah I didn’t know she was the girl from the dating app right away. I think she may have remembered me because she was a bit standoffish with me for almost the whole month of me working there. Our first real interaction was somewhat flirtatious and then the third time we interacted we had this full on in-depth conversation where I felt like she was interested and trying to get information from me like gauging topics on children and work status. Like compatibility/inquisitive questions. She was very interested. I was more focused on the task at hand because we were at work. It felt good. She was honest but I could tell she was apprehensive with her answers and I was honest. It was light but she also threw in her partner. And how she’s lucky but I didn’t get the feel she was happy when throwing that out there when saying that. It was a little off. Now she knows I don’t want kids and she has kids. I myself was apprehensive but somewhat interested. I wasn’t put off or anything. We still talked after the topic of children. I just idk I was true to myself but I feel like I should’ve said more somehow. Letting her know outright that her having children doesn’t bother me. It’s been awhile since we worked together afterwards but when we ran into each other it’s because she came down the aisle I was in but there was another coworker there so idk if she was trying to come linger by me or really had to talk to this other coworker. She didn’t even say hi or acknowledge me but I didn’t think about it too much. I did wave bye to her when leaving for the day. I just don’t know how to handle this situation. What do you see within the energy?

Top Tarot: Knight of Pentacles RX, the Sun, the World, & the Queen of Swords. She seems determined to find someone specific, who will mark off the boxes on her checklist, who will provide to her what she needs. But I think her interaction with you caused some confusion, because even if you didn't quite say the right thing, she still felt drawn to you. With the Knight of Pentacles she is a little overly focused, as I said, with finding someone who fits what it is she needs. So she will be hesitant to move forward, if at all. The Sun & the World card, though, show this strong connection. And, if given the chance, this would grow into something good in strong. But that Queen of Swords will get in the way. She will have to loosen up on her ideas of what she wants in a partner in order for things to be successful.

Lenormand: Key, fox, & man. She is looking for someone who will fit her needs and provide the solution in life that she is looking for. Very self-motivated for providing for her family, that's the most important thing. So she is going to look for that person that suits her needs, not necessarily prioritizing love.

Bottom: 7 of Cups. She is dealing with some confusing in what she wants in a relationship. Maybe she realizes the ideals she had will be hard to find in a partner. So she is having to rethink what it is that she wants in order to find love. So she needs time to figure it out for herself.

[silviakundera]

watching The Last Immortal, in ep 7. My random disorganized thoughts!

After actually making it through the xanxia angst parade of Ancient Love Poetry, I needed to see what's up with the next generation. And it does have that feel... watching the latch-key kids try to raise themselves & stumble through misadventures, living in the aftermath of the boomers making a total mess of the worlds.

Green tea birds still abound and the FL is born to suffer. I like that many of the conflicts and grudges are consequences of that dumb ass immortals vs demons/monsters nonsense that Obviously Evil Phoenix Empress caused in ALP.... Makes my time watching her get away with all that bullshit again and again feel less wasted.

But boy do the immortals and Heavens court still suck. Can ML just x-out and join the monster squad?

Lil Fox lord is very amusing. I'll be honest, I wish he and the soon to be long-suffering FL A'Yin could fall in love and actually be happy together. But I know the xanxia rules: the FL and ML must be tied by fate, so horrible catastrophies happen and he is the cause of her physical and spiritual torture on several occasions (gotta follow in those footsteps, can't let dad down!).

The FL is rather sensible and straightforward in a charming way and Zhao Lusi has a flair with this type of character. Just like with Orchid in Love Between Fairy and Devil, I looooveee the whimsy of plant or animal spirit beast type characters.

ML is immature and I didn't care for him at first, but his deep down care for FL as a friend in these early episodes, even though he's romantically interested in someone else, has melted my misgivings. I have a weakness for that kind of intrinsic gentle kindness for a friend.

Missing Tian Qi, my absolute fav character from ALP. (I can't even call it second lead syndrome... he was the 1st lead in my ❤ Dude was constantly actually handling the buisness of caretaking ML's 'wife' and child most of the time). If I didn't know they don't have the rights to ALP, I'd have a real problem with the idea that he hasn't been keeping some kind of watch on the kid, at least an underling - OOC). I assume he's xanxia trapped/lost somewhere for 300 years or so. Shit happens.

Should u watch this if you watched Ancient Love Poetry? I say yes: it does feel like a sequel, though they had to change names & file off the serial numbers.

[dankusner]

98 —— CHAPTER 7

went in for the autopsy there was no blood left in his body.

That is going to the grave with me.

It's inevitable that an inquest IP in Texas will be most strongly affected by the kinds of deaths that make the evening news.

Judge Sharon Fox said that she's seen some "really horrific scenes over the years," but the one that stands out for her was one "particularly gruesome murder"

I really thought I must be on Candid Camera when I got there because the deputy was telling me, "Well, this happened, then this happened "

I thought, you've got to be kidding me.

This can't be real.

A son and his girlfriend murdered his daddy and they cut him up and put him in a barrel and tried to burn him up.

Then they rolled the burning barrel to a different location and burnt body parts fell out along the way.

We got through the whole thing, and then the young man went on trial.

It was publicized in the paper, but when our pastor mentioned it, he opened the drawer when I wasn't expecting him to:

With this one, the emotion just came flying out.

It isn't always easy for a judge to hold back feelings about a death that results from human recklessness and irresponsibility.

Yadi Rodriguez (Hutchinson County) was once put to the test.

I had a little girl that was thrown out of the vehicle.

There was no car seat in the car, but her mom was seat-belted in.

It made me angry.

She was just a perfect little girl and her mom lost control of the car.

And the mom, because she was seat-belted in, didn't have a scratch on her.

That stuff never goes away.

I'm thankful I don't have to do the notifications.

Similarly, Donna Schmidt (Cochran County) was assailed by the mother of a four-year-old, the victim of a fatal traffic accident, for authorizing an autopsy as required by law.

It was hard for Schmidt to contain her anger over being criticized for performing her job when the mother hadn't performed her job as parent by fastening her child safely into her car seat.

I do an inquest and then several hours later I have to perform a wedding. I've learned how to put on that happy face.| — Hon. Evelyn Kerbow, Crockett County

I Don't Dream about Them —— 99

Retired JP Suzan Thompson of Matagorda County teaches classes on inquests.

The discussion often turns to how to keep depression at bay.

She told me that part of handling constant exposure to death is finding the means to walk away from it, learning how to move along with your own life.

Yet there will still be times when a judge's response to a particular death won't be appropriate, won't be particularly well thought out, but will, in fact, be elementally human.

One time I got a call to go to the hospital.

It was a newborn that hadn't survived.

I had no idea why on earth I did this;

I'd never done it before and never did it since.

I was in the nursery.

I just picked up the baby and sat down in the rocking chair.

It was the worst thing I could have done.

It was probably a maternal instinct.

I just had this incredible urge to hold that baby.

I talked to a male judge who had that same desire:

Fred Buck (Tom Green County).

I can remember every infant that I've gone to.

You walk into the hospital room and it looks like a little baby lying there asleep.

You just want to pick them up and hug them.

What I've got to keep in mind when I go to one is that it's just a straight shot to heaven when a baby dies.

Donna Wooten (Pecos County) recalled one inquest that nearly "did her in."

This is a little town of three hundred people.

I pass this certain house about four times a day.

The family had five boys, one after another.

There was one little boy I saw all the time.

One evening, there was a report of some crazy asshole speeding through town going in excess of one hundred miles an hour on our main road.

No one could get him to stop.

As the locals were calling the sheriff's department, he crossed the road and drove right inside that family's house.

He drove over the five-year-old's head.

They called me.

I live a minute away.

When I got there, the vehicle was still running, the tires were still spinning, and they were restraining the father of the little boy; he was going to get his gun and kill the guy.

We knew right away that the driver was high on meth.

He was a heavy, long-term user.

The little boy had been camping on his brother's bedroom floor.

He was in a sleeping bag and the tire ran over his head and I had to view the body.

I've got to put eyes on the victim.

I went into the ambulance and it crushed my soul.

I don't think anybody is properly trained to deal with

[writeforfandoms]

How Did You Love 7

Find my masterlist and series masterlist

Here we finally are back again with chapter 7! I know I’ve been doing day by day so far, but I think we’re gonna start seeing some skips because I would like to finish this story sometime in the next decade. (Just kidding. I’m aiming to have it finished by the end of this year.) 

Let me know who you want to see featured next chapter!

Also of note: the little village described is supposed to be Holly Village, Highgate, London. The restaurant is based on a real restaurant in that area.

Warnings: Swearing, feelings, Jack is far too charming, Ezra and Fox are conniving busybodies. 

Word count: 2.7k

After that, of course, you had to keep actual tabs on the days. This was day 4. (And that by itself was a little odd to think. That four days ago your life had been so different. That you had only known these men for four days. It was… honestly, it was a little freaky.) 

You spent the morning wavering between being listless and frantic. It was hard to reconcile everything, to know that you had to make a decision that would change the fates of others. You hadn't found your happy medium yet, which is how you ended up organizing everything in the pantry and fridge. 

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, and you went to go answer it. 

Jack stood on the other side, thumbs tucked into his belt loops, charming smile in place. 

"Mornin', sugar," he greeted. "I was hopin' you'd agree to accompany me for lunch, of you're not busy." 

"Oh! No, I'm not busy. Um, sure. Let me just do something with my hair." 

Jack chuckled softly. "No rush," he assured you. "I can wait here or over at my place." 

"Don't be silly, come on in." You smiled and left the door open for him, walking further into the house. "Can I get you anything to drink?" 

"Thanks, sugar, but no thanks." Jack stepped into the living room, taking a look around. "Looks almost exactly the same as mine." 

"It's a bit odd," you murmured, taking in the furniture and the walls and the curtains. Every house was virtually the same, with only minor differences in color schemes. 

"A bit?" Jack chuckled. "I'd say more'n a bit." 

You couldn't help but laugh. "I'll be back in a minute." You headed up the stairs to your room. 

And then had to pause because oh shit Jack had asked you on a date. And you were pretty sure it was a date. Oh, damn. 

Okay. Okay. You could handle this. No problem. You had some nice clothes with you. 

It took little time to change and finish getting ready, and you spared a moment to take a deep breath and calm yourself. 

No pressure, remember. 

You nearly snorted at the absurdity of that and shook your head, amused. 

"Ready?" You asked Jack as you came back down the stairs. 

"I am indeed." He smiled when he saw you, wiggling his eyebrows. "And you, sugar, look good enough to eat." 

You smiled, some of the tension falling from your shoulders. "Thank you."

Jack held out his hand, and you fitted yours in his. His hands were big, calloused, but also warm and comforting. He seemed completely at ease as the two of you left your house, and then the property. You did spot Frankie sitting under a tree, but none of the others. Briefly, you wondered about that, and then dismissed it. 

It wasn't your job to worry about them full-time. They were all grown adults, and not your responsibility. At least, not in terms of keeping track of them. 

You were allowed to go out and enjoy yourself. Hell, Nova had all but told you that is what they were for. 

You held Jack's hand a little tighter, smiling. 

"It really is a nice day today, huh?" You looked at him, rounding the corner away from the property. 

"It is indeed." Jack tugged you a little closer to be out of the way of another pedestrian. "All the better for my current company." He winked at you. 

And, sure, maybe it was a bit over the top… but you still giggled. "I agree." 

His smile brightened. "Now, sugar, I do have a coupl'a ideas for today." 

"Sure, lay them on me." You paused at a crosswalk to let traffic pass. 

"I found a little place for lunch for us," Jack told you. "It's no diner, but it looks good." 

"Sounds good to me," you agreed. 

"And then, depending on how far we can go, there are a few theaters around. We could go watch a movie. Or just walk around, if you prefer." Jack started across the street, making sure you stayed next to him. 

"I don't even know what's playing right now," you admitted with a little laugh. "But I am down to do whatever. It's a nice day, and I just want to enjoy it." 

Jack chuckled softly. "I'll make sure you have fun, sugar." 

"So, I know you're from the States. Where do you live?" 

Jack used his free hand to scratch the back of his head briefly, glancing at you before watching traffic again. "I've lived in New York City, and in Kentucky. Grew up on a farm in Kentucky." 

"Seriously? A farm?" You looked at him curiously. 

"Yes indeed." He tipped his head to look at you, a smile teasing the corners of his lips. "What's that look for, sugar?" 

"Just curious. I've never really been to a farm, apart from a few visits as a kid." You shrugged. "I know it's a lot of work, but it sounds kinda fun, too." 

Jack laughed. "That depends on if you like early mornings," he said, grinning. "Work starts early. I used to get up at dawn to go help out. My mama said it kept me out of trouble." He paused, grin turning roguish. "Well. Too much trouble." He winked at you, squeezing your hand. 

"And New York? That's quite a change from a farm." 

"I was working for Statesman Distillery by then," Jack admitted, smooth as butter. "Worked my way up the ladder and got stuck in charge of operations in NYC. Lived there for a while, when I wasn't traveling." 

"Huh." You were quiet for a few moments. "I'm far from an expert on alcohol, but I don't think I've heard of Statesman." 

"They exist here," Jack told you, gently tugging you into his side and out of the way of another group of tourists. "Looked 'em up a couple days ago." 

You nodded, going quiet as thoughts and questions whirled in your brain. Was it odd for him? It must be. There was no way it wasn't. 

"Hey," he murmured. "Talk to me. What's going through that pretty head?" 

"I just…" you chewed on your lip for a moment, trying to find the words. "I mean, it has to be weird, right? To know that the company exists here but you don't? Would you want to go work for them if you stay? I mean, I know that's still in the future and we don't even know what's going to happen, but–" 

"Slow down there," Jack chuckled, squeezing your hand again. "Yes, it is odd. I only recognized a couple names on the site." He paused there, thumb stroking over the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "Hadn't much considered the future yet, to be honest. Figured there isn't a point yet, not until we know what'll happen." 

"That's a good point." You sighed just a little. "I feel like we're stuck in limbo." 

"Hurry up and wait," Jack agreed. "But it's not so bad, hm? At least you've got good company." 

"Very good company," you agreed, smiling at him. "I'm just not used to all of this." 

"Which part?" 

"All of it," you deadpanned, making Jack laugh softly. "Going out with someone, being somewhere not home, not having a thousand things on my to do list." 

"Sounds like someone works too hard," Jack teased gently. 

"It's a good distraction." You shrugged. 

Jack nodded slowly, slowing down as you two approached your destination. "That is true," he admitted softly. "But it's also a good way to end up lonely." 

He opened the door for you, ushering you inside. 

A series of small lamps hung from a fixture just inside, bright and cheerful. There were wood tables and chairs, and more hanging lanterns strewn throughout the space. And it smelled amazing - a mix of spices and savory foods that made your mouth water. 

Jack got you a table out on the patio, pulling out your seat for you and ushering you to sit first. The sunlight was pleasantly warm, and the fence and bushes helped to dull the traffic noise. 

"How did you find this place?" You asked, not even looking at your menu yet. 

Jack grinned, sly and amused. "I have my ways." 

You laughed and shook your head, watching a waiter carry a few plates past you. Ooooh those smelled good. You hadn't even realized you were hungry. 

"Here," Jack murmured, sliding your menu closer to you. "Pick out something. Or, hell, pick a few somethings." He grinned at you, eyes crinkling. 

And you had to pause and just smile. He looked more relaxed than you'd seen him, happier. And gorgeous. The sun highlighted his hair, catching on the curl right over his forehead. Those broad shoulders were relaxed. 

Well, you certainly had a good view for lunch. 

The two of you ended up ordering a few dishes to share. It was more fun that way, and everything looked and smelled amazing. 

"Well, whatever your mysterious ways are, I'm glad you found this place," you told Jack, scooping up the last bite onto your fork. "This was an amazing choice." 

"I'm glad you liked it, sugar." Jack grinned. "Have to see where else we can find. Dunno about you, but I like all kinds of places." 

"One of life's greatest pleasures is exploring cultures through food," you agreed. "Especially for those of us who can't travel often."

"I know you mentioned you've done a bit of traveling before," he said, watching you. "Do you hope to travel more in the future?"

You made a face, wobbling one hand in a so-so motion. "I mean, yeah, I'd like to. But. Before all of this, I would have said I doubt I'd be able to afford to travel much." You paused and shrugged with a wry smile. "Now? I have no idea. I am still figuring out all of this." You waved a vague hand at yourself, the table, the general area. 

"Understandable." Jack caught your hand and held it gently, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. "I for one hope I get the chance to go see new places with you." He quirked a little smile at you. "Would be nice to travel for fun, 'stead of just for work." 

"Maybe we can make that happen." You smiled, feeling a little shy and a lot flattered. 

Jack took the bill before you could, distracting you with a kiss to your knuckles so you couldn't complain. 

Part of you wanted to stay there for the whole afternoon, just chatting and getting to know him. He really was quite charming, and fun, and he had a wide variety of stories. Mostly from his work. Every so often, he'd get an odd look on his face, like he was remembering something less pleasant. But you didn't push, didn't ask. 

You knew all too well how much easier it was to avoid painful subjects, to desperately wish nobody asked about them. 

But the two of you stood after the bill was paid, your hand still twined with Jack's. He used his free hand to look up the nearest movie theater and see what was playing. 

You vetoed the romcom as too on the nose for a first date. Jack nixed the mindless action flick. Which left you with the sci fi that probably spent more of its budget on special effects than writing. 

"Tell you what," you said as the two of you walked to the theater. "Let's get seats in the very back and as long as it doesn't bother you, we can make fun of the movie. If it's bad." 

"Sounds perfect to me, sugar." Jack grinned and squeezed your hand. 

The theater was half empty when you got in, and you and Jack settled in the very back row. Jack lifted the arm rest between you two, draping one arm over your shoulders. 

"This okay?" He asked in a murmur. 

"More than." You smiled, watching the flickering lights illuminate his features. 

He hummed and settled in there, his fingers rubbing against your shoulder, like he couldn't hold completely still. Fortunately you found it endearing rather than annoying. 

To say the movie was mediocre was an overstatement. The best part about the movie was making fun of it. You and Jack sat close together, heads bent together, whispering comments to each other. Once, you had to press your hand to your mouth hard to keep from laughing loud enough for the whole theater to hear. 

Jack looked rather smug after that, and you didn't call him on it. 

"Well, that was…" Jack couldn't find the right word, arm still over your shoulders as you two walked out of the theater into the lobby. 

"It sure was," you agreed, stifling another giggle fit. 

You both paused near the exit, looking through the glass outside. It was raining, the sky overcast where it had been sunny, the ground already soaked. 

You bit your lip, looking at him. "Guess we're walking back in the rain." 

Jack puffed out his cheeks. "Sorry, sugar." 

"It's fine, not like you can control the weather." You paused and peered at him. "And even if you can, I like rain. It sounds nice. Even when you get caught in it." 

Jack chuckled softly and released your shoulders, his hand sliding down to take yours. "Ready?"

"Ready." 

The two of you emerged and headed down the street towards temporary home. It didn't take long to get soaked, and you had to laugh at the disgruntled look on Jack's face. 

Fortunately it wasn't a long walk, and Jack ushered you into his house to warm up. 

"You wanna drink, sugar?" Jack asked, shutting the door behind the two of you and stepping past you towards the kitchen. 

"Something warm, maybe." You peered into his living room. It was a close mirror to your own. He was right, it was an unsettling feeling. Shaking your head, you continued after him into the kitchen. 

Jack already had the coffee machine going, and he offered you a towel. 

"Apart from the rain, that was damn near perfect," he murmured, stepping in closer. 

You smiled, taking the towel. Instead of using it to dry off, as he'd clearly intended, you lifted it to his head to start patting his hair dry. "I liked the rain."

Jack chuckled, his hands capturing yours and bringing them down to rest against his chest. The towel slipped down around his shoulders, but neither of you paid it any mind. 

"I was thinkin' we could do this again sometime?" Jack smiled, ducking his head a little. 

"Of course," you agreed, a little breathless. "I'd like that."

"Good." Jack's smile crinkled his eyes, warming you straight through. "Good." He shifted in closer, one hand still holding yours to his chest, his other landing softly at your waist. He lowered his head a little, slowly moving in closer. Your eyes fluttered closed, face tipping up towards him. 

And the front door banged open, sending in a flurry of cold wind and water droplets. 

Jack swore softly and released you, grumbling all the way to the door. Before he could close it, though, Ezra and Fox popped up. 

"Evenin'!" Ezra greeted cheerily. "Saw the open door, figured we'd come give you a hand, and maybe get a start on dinner for tonight. I was thinkin', with all this rain, a big pot of stew sounds mighty good tonight." Oh, you're already here, dove! How fortuitous."

Jack sighed heavily as the two men let themselves in, and he shut and locked the door. There was regret in his eyes as he rejoined you in the kitchen, clearly paying not a bit of attention to Ezra's ramblings as the other man went through the fridge for ingredients. 

You smiled at him, reaching over to squeeze his fingers briefly. "I'm gonna go grab a towel," you told him, though you were certainly aware of two more sets of eyes that turned to you. "I'll be right back." 

You did take maybe just a couple minutes extra, hidden away in the bathroom, to touch your lips and imagine if the door hadn't opened just then.

--

Taglist (let me know if you want on or off, I know this might not be everyone’s cuppa tea): @saradika @fandom-blackhole @shoopidly @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @seasonschange-butpeopledont @sunnydunnydays @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks @withakindheartx @linkpk88 @janebby @anditsmywholeheart @evyiione  @amneris21 @recklessworry @the-feckless-wonder @myguiltypleasures21 @javierpinme @grogusmum @eri16 @idreamofboobear @pintsizemama @pedrostories @stevie75 @luxmundee @kirsteng42 @alexxavicry @elegantduckturtle @bruxasolta @pjkimrn @jaime1110 @trash-dino-5000 @theanothersherlockian @mandalwhorean @mswarriorbabe80 @lowlights​ 

[evienyx]

DSMP Citizens POV 2: The Prime Path Florist

DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

- - -

There were many florists in the Dream SMP. With how much destruction there was, people were constantly having to rebuild their yards, and the gardens, and the planter pots that would rest outside of businesses, and so being a florist could result in a very successful business.

The Prime Path Florist had been there the longest.

Before even TommyInnit had arrived, the Prime Path Florist had settled down in the Dream SMP, creating a simple garden for themself and enjoying life with their cat, bees, and every flower known to man.

As the server's population grew, and the Prime Path truly came into being as the main way to get around, the Florist claimed a piece of land, built up a humble shop, and started their business.

While there was no competition at first, as the chaos and wars began to rage through the server, more and more businesses popped up offering services to help with rebuilding. One of these such businesses was the Greater SMP Flower Shop, who opened just after the end of the L'Manburg Revolution.

Then, when another, smaller war broke out across the server and the Greater SMP Flower Shop was destroyed, they didn't build it back.

That was where the Prime Path Florist beat out all of their competition. They would always rebuild, if they even had to. The one time damage had been caused to their shop, though, what they had done to the person who caused the damage made it so that everyone knew from then on to not mess with their flower shop.

(Then, eventually, the land that their shop was on accidentally became part of the Holy Land, and it didn't even matter anymore anyway, because nothing on the server could harm the Holy Land.)

Out of all the leaders of the SMP, the first that the Prime Path Florist met was Nihachu, a resident of L'Manburg who was known to be close friends with the president.

"Good morning," Nihachu said when the Florist first met her. "How are you doing?"

"Well, and you?"

"Great! I'm just looking for some flowers to brighten up my bakery!"

"Of course. What kind of flowers are you looking for?"

Nihachu (Niki, she had insisted quickly) had left that day with arms full of white mullein. The next morning, the Florist had opened the door to find a package sitting inside, filled to the brim with baked goods.

The Florist had no idea how Niki Nihachu had gotten the things inside.

The door had been locked all night.

As the L'Manburg election loomed ever closer, it felt as though tensions were rising throughout the server. The Prime Path Florist was fine, though. Their shop was safe, and business was good as the pavilion and stage were set up for the day when the results would be released.

They turned off the public announcements on their communicator as the day of the results arrived. They didn't care to hear about politics. They just wanted to sell some flowers.

The day after the election, the Prime Path Florist was on their way to their shop when they saw VP Tommy running down the back roads that they took to work every day, what looked to be a piglin-hybrid in tow.

All three of them stopped. The stranger's hand floated to their side, hovering over the hilt of an iron sword, which looked like it had been hastily wrapped.

Then, the Prime Path Florist gave the teenager a nod. "Vice President," they said, greeting him the politest way they knew how to.

VP Tommy smiled a little too wide, and glanced at his companion before shooting off down the path again, not even acknowledging the Florist as he passed.

(Later that day, when a customer off-handedly mentioned that Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit had been banished by Schlatt, the new president, the Florist realized that the teen had thought that they had been telling him that they supported him.)

(The Florist shrugged.)

(They didn't care much for politics, anyway.)

Still, customers began coming into the shop more and more frequently (more than usual, at least, especially during a time without too much destruction), and they would lean across the counter and whisper about news from a place called 'Pogtopia.'

When the Prime Path Florist found out that it was the name of a rebellion, fighting against Manburg and led by Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit, who were bent on getting their country back, they were a bit surprised. They said nothing, though.

The Florist didn't care much for politics.

Less than a week after the election, the Florist met their third SMP leader face-to-face, as ex-President Soot's son Fundy walked into their shop.

"Could I, er..." The fox tugged at the edge of his cuff. "Do you have anything for first dates?"

"How long have you known them?" The Florist asked, already thinking through possibilities.

"Well, a while," Fundy said. "It's Dream."

The Prime Path Florist stalled. Then, they said, "I think I have the perfect one." They gathered up a bunch of prairie roses, passing them over to the other. Fundy paid for the flowers, gave a bit of a wobbly smile, and then set off, running down the path as soon as he set foot outside.

The next morning, when two customers gossiped to one another as they browsed, the Prime Path Florist found out that the Admin of the SMP and the son of the banished president of L'Manburg were engaged.

The customers wondered what would happen as a result of this. They wondered how the alliances would work, what with Fundy's father being the leader of the rebellion, Fundy himself working for the new leader of L'Manburg, and Dream being the Admin in charge of everything.

The Florist did not offer their thoughts, because the Florist did not care much for politics.

A few weeks later, the day after the announcement of the Manburg festival, Secretary Underscore arrived, looking a bit too small in his suit, but a smile on his face as he entered the store, the smile widening when his eyes landed on the Florist's bees zipping between the flowers.

"Bees!" He exclaimed, taking another step inside. "I love bees!"

The Prime Path Florist smiled gently. "I do too. What can I do for you today, Secretary?"

"Tubbo, please," the teenager replied. "And I don't know if you heard, but I'm in charge of decorating for the festival! I was wondering if I would be able to order some flowers to be put in the morning of?"

The Florist nodded. "Of course. Would you like to come pick them up at, say, 7:30? I normally open at 8, but I'll delay opening by an hour so I could help you put them in."

Tubbo grinned. "That would be great, thank you!"

"Of course, Secretary Tubbo." The teen looked a bit uncomfortable at the title, but he nodded as they asked, "I assume the Government of Manburg will be paying?"

"Yep. The color scheme is going to be based around the flag, if that helps!" Then, without another word, the kid waved to the bees and was gone.

Just under a week later, Tubbo helped them cart dozens of red Imperial Montagues and Dark Geranium.

"What do these flowers mean?" Tubbo asked them as they moved together down the Prime Path, the air crisp and the sun just beginning to shine over the landscape.

The Florist cleared their throat, tapping the side of the cart handle with their finger. "The lighter ones mean Power," they said as they turned the corner of the path, moving down toward the festival grounds.

"And the darker ones?"

The Prime Path Florist thought of the customers who murmured to them about Secretary Underscore, a secret spy for the rebellion. "...Melancholy. They mean melancholy."

Tubbo's smile dimmed, his eyes darkening just a bit, but he plucked a geranium from the cart he was pushing and pinned it to his suit before continuing on.

(After he gave his speech later that day, the flower ended up being darkened, stained with the blood of a teenager who went out with a bang.)

When Secretary Tubbo disappeared, soon followed by Vice President Quackity, both of them supposedly cementing their places in the Pogtopia rebellion (if the whispers were to be believed), the Florist continued on with their job.

After all, the Florist had never cared much for politics.

One day, when the businesses across the SMP were warned to lock their doors as a battle between Manburg and Pogtopia was expected, the Prime Path Florist was looking after their bees when abruptly the ground shook with a force that nearly knocked over some of the plants. The Florist, perturbed for the first time since they watched a teenager get shot full of fireworks, ran to Manburg, where smoke was rising into the sky.

They arrived just in time to watch the hybrid they had seen with VP Tommy months ago (Technoblade, they had heard, the Technoblade) spawn two Withers and laugh as the people of two countries, one decimated and one not, banded together to fight off the creatures.

(The Florist, glad they had brought their weapon, quickly joined in. Withers, when killed, dropped wither roses, and there was no way that they were letting those flowers end up anywhere but in their gloved grasp.)

A few weeks later, once the reconstruction of L'Manburg, now under the direction of President Tubbo, had just about been completed, the bell above the Florist's door chimed, echoing through their shop.

"And this is the Prime Path Flower Shop!" President Tubbo said, spreading his arms out wide. "And here's the Prime Path Florist themself!"

The president seemed to be giving a tour to the person who stood beside him, a lanky hybrid of what looked to be part-enderman and part-something else. The hybrid had to duck to enter the shop, and they expressly did not make eye-contact with the Florist as they stood beside Tubbo, looking just as stressed as he did during Schlatt's presidency, but somehow in a different way. The Prime Path Florist wondered why the President of L'Manburg was giving a tour to a new resident. There were sometimes hundreds of new people who moved to the server every day. What made this hybrid so special?

"Florist, this is Ranboo! He's new to the SMP. Niki already showed him around the Greater SMP, but she's got her bakery to watch, so I'm here to show him the rest!"

The Florist nodded. So, that was it. The hybrid, Ranboo, had been friends with Nihachu. "Nice to meet you, Ranboo," they addressed the hybrid, who nodded, his eyes still not meeting their own. The Florist turned back to Tubbo. "Would you two each like a flower? Free of charge. To welcome a new member of the server."

Tubbo took a dark geranium (he seemed to have developed a liking for them after the festival), and Ranboo asked for an allium.

The Florist handed him two. The tall teen sputtered and attempted to pass one back.

"I only need one," he said, stumbling over his words.

The Prime Path Florist shook their head and pressed the flowers further into Ranboo's hands. "Alliums always come in pairs. Every good florist knows that."

Ranboo visibly swallowed, but he took the flowers nonetheless.

About an hour later, VP Tommy ran past the shop down the Prime Path, and the Florist could just barely make out an allium clenched in the teen's hand.

Time passed, and tensions rose between the factions of the server. The Florist, nestles comfortably in the Holy Land, knowing that they were protected by the Higher Gods and by the Prime itself, rested easy. People from any side still bought their flowers, and business was still good.

When the destruction of L'Manburg came, the Florist did nothing but offer a discount to those whose homes had been blown down to bedrock, for the Florist had never cared much for politics.

(And then, months after that, after Dream's imprisonment in Pandora's Vault, when peace was on the server once more, the door opened on a particularly slow day with a surprisingly sad chime.

The Florist looked up to see Ranboo standing in front of them, tear tracks burning into his skin.

"What can I do for you?" They asked.

"I... I need flowers. For a grave."

"...Would you rather them be somber or bright?"

"Bright. As bright as possible, please," Ranboo said. "I want to remember him for how he was in life."

The Florist soon passed over a bundle of marigolds and helenium, a few harebells interspersed between them. "Symbolizing grief and tears," they said as they handed the teen the flowers.

"Thank you," Ranboo said, preparing to pass over payment. He froze and looked back up at them, eyes wide. "Actually... could I also get an allium?"

The Florist felt a sinking in their stomach and nodded, plucking the flower from a nearby vase and tucking it into the bouquet. The teen paid and left, and the Prime Path Florist went on with their day.

That evening, the official news broke that Dream had murdered TommyInnit in prison. The server cried. The server mourned.

The Florist did not do much of either, because, beyond their cat, their bees, and their flowers, the Florist never cared much for anything.

At least, that was what they tried to tell themselves.

It was easier that way.

It always was.)

[ramblingguy54]

Sonic & Tails R: A Love Letter To Miles Tails Prower’s Characterization

     Warning: This will contain massive spoilers for the short radio play series of Sonic & Tails R. If you haven’t listened to the radio play yet on Youtube, I’d highly recommend any hardcore Sonic fan who hasn’t seen it check it out. It’s one Hell of a treat.

     For as far back as I can remember in my childhood, Tails’ story of trying to step outta Sonic’s shadow has been such a resonating one for myself. Even when I was a much younger kid playing my Dreamcast, during entries like Sonic Adventure 1 & 2, there was some idea lingering about why Tails just stood out more emotionally in his journey to grow beyond depending on Sonic all the time for help. Now here I am a young adult in my late twenties having such a deeper appreciation of this little two tailed genius kiddo because he’s got an important element that’s made him so beloved for good reason.

     In spite of his genius being a rival to that of Eggman’s high IQ and of course proving to surpass it plenty of times when scenarios boil down to being a high stakes battle, Miles Tails Prower beneath it all is still just like any one of us. We’re all trying to find our place in this world about what defines us for who we are as unique people. He wants to be more than just seen as someone who’s alongside Sonic The Hedgehog’s never say die attitude, but prove he’s plenty capable of standing on his own two feet to protect everything the kid holds dear to himself. Underdog stories, when they’re naturally executed very well, can reel me in so easily. They are very much my bread & butter trope I adore seeing.

     To no one’s surprise, the two Sonic Adventure’s iterations portrayal of Tails’ characterization are hands down some of my favorite writing for the two tailed fox, regarding what the 3D era has done toward him, development wise. It gave him more of an existential struggle to endure like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t around to help stop Eggman? What if I’m not strong enough to accomplish what he can?”, making Tails plight to be seen as an equal all the more endearing when stopping Eggman in his climatic battle against the Egg Walker in Station Square. This here is a great use of a timeless lesson you can apply in life that if you set you heart and mind on anything, there isn’t a thing you can’t accomplish on your own, which is why many fell in love with Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s writing for Miles Tails Prower’s journey of independence.

     As someone who comes from a large family tree of relatives, I feel the weight of my existence on my shoulders at a number of points more than I’d care to count, admittedly. Seeing Tails struggle with his sense of purpose, in contrast to observing how much Sonic has accomplished with his carefree, yet deeply compassionate attitude, means the world to me in watching another trying to comprehend their value as a whole on how much they matter, overall. This is a big part of why my fondness for SA1 & 2′s quality has never wavered over these years, besides still obviously enjoying most of their game play mechanics. People can try to debate to their heart’s content on whether the Adventure games still hold up in their own eyes, but I’ll always respect them for how they tried to develop certain characters, such as Tails, Gamma, and Shadow The Hedgehog notably, to attempt expanding upon their characters, as well as world building.

     I won’t bother going into a rant about how Sonic’s recent 3D games have butchered Tails’ personality & relatable nature, due to the current writers in charge of handling the cast of characters. More or less, I greatly empathize toward the notion many have already stated about Tails being so cowardly and God forbid, looking at Lost World, downright severely mean spirited. Rather, I’m obviously writing this lengthy post to breakdown why Sonic & Tails R succeeds, where these certain 3D games have greatly faltered in exploring Tails’ emotional dilemmas as an insecure, yet still having the courage to prove himself, talented boy full of hidden potential he doesn’t quite realize, until his back is against the wall in life threatening situations.

“That day, I realized I couldn’t depend on you forever. Not that I can’t depend on you, but like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t here?”, you know?”

     Sonic & Tails R further delves into this fundamental rule of what has defined Tails in Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s stories of events where Sonic wasn’t there to aid his best bud in taking down Eggman’s evil efforts for global domination, most importantly his fear of defending the Earth without his role model. Besides what I already stated in SA1′s events in Station where he stopped the Egg Walker, as well as the missile Eggman launched from detonating before their climatic battle, Tails watched Sonic blow up in ARK’s capsule presuming him to be dead after Sonic imparted how much faith he has in the kid’s abilities to be truly strong in the face of any foe. Sonic & Tails R manages to use fan service in a way that doesn’t feel like “pandering” for the sake of it, using this past canon material to do more of an in-depth study about Miles’ anxieties of existing without Sonic.

     Wouldn’t put it past them if EmuEmi & crew were using SA2′s Sonic death fake out scene in that space capsule to further add trauma to Tails’ psychological attachment to Sonic, as well as his insecurities of depending on him too much, to boot. While it’s never obviously outright stated in their radio play, I definitely believe they were factoring this element into adding dramatic exploration for why Tails is so self-conscious about the worst case scenario of permanently losing Sonic. Watching Sonic supposedly die put Tails into a deeper state of self-reflection, so I very much enjoyed how they went using these past events to create a thorough exploration about him learning just as it’s important to realize you need to stand up for yourself without using someone else as a crutch all the time, it’s doubly important to remember there’s nothing wrong about asking someone for help when you’re about to be down and out with little options left.

     Sonic & Tails R beautifully builds upon the foundation these two games’ stories left behind years ago, creating new damn great material to explore with the most iconic characters of this cast, Sonic & Tails brotherly dynamic. I’ve been praising Sonic & Tails R out the wazoo for how well it captured Tails underdog story of overcoming death defying odds, but it managed to remind me how simply adorable and outright wonderfully endearing their brotherly chemistry is as a whole. This is a big friendly reminder Sonic isn’t all about being cocky wise cracking character making meta jokes left and right, but he can be plenty capable of showing serious compassion to anyone he values as an ally and friend. This is no greater evident, than with him verbally lifting Tails up in his time of need when he’s self-depreciating his own significance. It can be seen in Episodes 2, 4, and 7 giving Tails motivational pieces of advice.

    Episode 2 In Adabat’s Cavern

-Sonic: Wasn’t it your radar that helped us find these Emerald shards in the first place? How could you be slowing us down when you’ve gotten us this far?

-Tails: But, I...

-Sonic: I could never make something like that. You’re the smartest person I know, Tails. One way or another, we’ll figure this out, count on it.

         Episode 4 In Holoska After Helping Silver Save The Chao

-Sonic: So, what was that back there? At the cave, in Adabat? -Tails: What do you mean? -Sonic: Frozen stiff. Confidence shot. It’s not like you. It was more than feeling like you were “slowing us down”, right?

        Episode 7 Inside The Egg Carrier 3

-Sonic: Let’s split up! I’ll distract them and you can go after the energy source. -Tails: You’re gonna take them on all by yourself!? Let me help, Sonic! -Sonic: No time for this, Tails. Stop overthinking and just go! If I can get their attention, I’ll take the heat off of you and that room you’re going to probably won’t have any security. Take this emerald and I’ll take the other one we have. It’ll lead me right to you after I beat these guys. -Tails: O-Okay... -Sonic: Hold on, Tails! Listen to me. Don’t stop moving and be careful. I’ll be fine and so will you!

     Sonic & Tails R remembers the most crucial detail of their important relationship. One isn’t better than the other and needing to always rely upon that notion for helping one outta a jam, but instead showcases how they’re equals as a team/bros. Sonic may be super fast and strong, however Tails has his intelligence to analyze situations in a different angle Sonic wouldn’t necessarily consider, per say. Which isn’t to say Tails couldn’t put up a fight either, as we’ve seen in SA1 & SA2′s stories where he faced Eggman one on one with no outside help to best him at his own game of wits & strength.

     We get see the apex of this idea through Tails facing Eggman in his super improved mecha walker. Although Tails may get thrown for a loop here at first by Eggman, it’s his villainous speech about winners and losers in their world that ironically does the exact opposite of what he intended. Eggman wanted to crush Tails’ sense of self worth before finishing him off, but all it did was reignite the very lesson Sonic told him earlier before running to distract Eggman’s robotic minions. That said lesson of he’s more than capable of facing dangerous threats

-Eggman: Poor boy. We all have to learn this lesson, sooner or later. In every game there’s no one you can depend on. You’re all alone and you’re either a winner, or a loser. And as you know, loser’s lose all of their lives. Say goodbye, fox!

-Tails: You’re wrong! I can depend Sonic! I won’t let him down! I can’t because...Because he’s depending on me! And because of that I won’t lose to you!

     This radio play strikes a good balance in utilizing the grey moral area about depending on someone vs it being an unhealthy display of attachment derived from serious insecurity. Word’s can’t begin to describe how much I loved this moment to pieces because it’s oh so important for writing Tails’ characterization. If you’re going to tackle him being super self conscious about his reliance on Sonic, then you gotta remember why they are so close to one another to begin with. Sonic & Tails have an unbreakable connection, considering they’ve brought out their best qualities in themselves from being together as individuals. For Sonic, it’s his older brother compassion to Tails to bring him outta feeling melancholy. For Tails, the kid finally understands there isn’t anything wrong with depending on Sonic when he needs it most.

     After all, that’s what a real healthy friendship is all about. Whether you’re giving someone a dose of tough love, or simply a piece of motivational advice, it defines how much you truly care about someone, period. Sonic & Tails have this very same power from their bond, which is why new emeralds form from their compassionate friendship that hasn’t been shaken after all the years they’ve been together. Another detail worth noting is it adds to the lore in an impactful manner when Tikal expresses in Episode 8 about positive connections and thoughts from users of the Chaos Emeralds having a strong will & heart. Using the ideas they had for encapsulating Sonic & Tails’ dynamic to create new emeralds from their love for each other as brothers adds an emotional weight.

“So, Sonic’s not the only one who harness the power of the Chaos Emeralds? I can too!?”

“Yes, you have a strong heart! There is a power waiting to be unlocked within you, as well.”

          I’d always daydreamed about in my childhood seeing Super Sonic & Tails take down a threatening villain, whether it was Eggman or different powerful creature such as Chaos or the Biolizard. You can imagine how fucking giddy I was beyond belief to see this artwork of Episode 9′s cover for the radio play. Tails not only got to have another one on one with Eggman, but a team up with Super Sonic in his own respective Super form? Sign me the Hell up! Talk about an all you eat buffet of good writing for Tails’ journey reaching its climax. Getting to hear this play out, alongside the amazing song of Fly With Me, made it authentically feel like something straight outta if there were an installment of Sonic Adventure 3 being brought into reality, which certainly feels like it now.

     Episode 9 has so much awesome stuff with Sonic & Tails working together in their super forms. Particularly, my favorite scene is at the beginning when Sonic teaches Tails how to navigate his newly acquired speed in his respective Super form. My heart melted hearing Sonic help Tails through it all, while he was overjoyed about how fun this new form is for himself. Wholesome Sonic & Tails content is the perfect daily serotonin for me, easily. It’s an awesome fun fact to know they used a scrapped boss from Tails Tornado segment in SA1 for Eggman’s flying dragon three headed robot in their big final battle, once again using old canon material in a very effective manner to boost the quality of their fan made story.

     It’s been a real thrill to hear Mike Pollock play a straight forward serious Eggman making my day in more ways than one, considering that’s another thing I’ve been yearning for desperately besides Tails being a competent character again. His performance in Episode 9 when Eggman gave that speech about how long he’s been at odds with Sonic & Tails stubborn will power was simply excellent. The moment he told his mechanical dragon to crush them I got serious chills. That’s the Eggman I remember and grew up with. He could be a hammy villain sure, but Eggman wasn’t a doormat that could be swiftly beaten. Robotnik can be considered a serious threat in his own right and this radio play nailed it down to the very letter with how much he predicted their actions.

“Sonic, all I ever wanted to do was be like you. You’re not scared of anyone or anything. I could never be like that. At least, so I thought. I grew from that, but then I got so caught up in trying to prove it that thought it wasn’t okay to depend upon anyone, especially you. I just didn’t want to be that scared little kid in Station Square anymore, but now I understand. It’s okay to depend on your friends. It all means is that we’re stronger together, so the next time Eggman comes back and wants to start any trouble with you, or any of my friends. Emeralds or no emeralds, he’s gonna have to get past me and he won’t!”

Sonic By Episode 1′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here we come!

Tails By Episode 10′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here I come!

Turn your thoughts into power. Be all that you can be.

     The ending legit got me choked up because what of they decided to do for wrapping up Tails journey in a poetic fashion. Having Tails go off on his own separate journey to grow more independence pulled on my heart strings perfectly. Very much so, as I’m transitioning slowly, but surely, into gaining more freedom to go out into the outside world in my own life. Concluding the story, by Sonic & Tails holding onto the two Emeralds their bond had formed from positive energy, due to their powerful friendship, was so heartwarming. This is how you write an overview of what makes Sonic & Tails chemistry work so well as it does.

     Sonic & Tails R’s ending represents while some things never change, like Sonic and Tails bond for each other, it also shows there’s very much a necessity for people to grow, hence Tails’ whole solo journey in the epilogue. People can’t stay in the same place forever and will need go about finding their own path, even if it means saying “goodbye” periodically for a notable amount of time.

     It’s for these reasons I’ve listed in great explanation above throughout this detailed post cement Sonic & Tails R high on my list of favorite Sonic fan projects. They captured the magic of what made the Adventure games so beloved. Gonna be looking back on this passion project for many years to come. Everyone involved in this year long effort of a project dating all the way back Summer of 2020 ought to be immensely proud for how much their hard efforts paid off in the long run.

Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts here! 

Hope you enjoyed. 

[funkymbtifiction]

On Disney

The more positive nature of Disney's stories is not necessarily 9, 7, or even enneagram related. I've noted that Ne doms (especially ENFPs) tend to have a brighter/happier aspect to their art compared to INXPs. In fact, I'm a 9 and an INFP and my stuff tends to be a lot darker, even when it ends on a brighter note. I think it may be because of Ne dom's idealistic nature of viewing life optimistically. A negative ending means that a possibility ended in failure. Of course, an ENXP can write a story that ends on a negative note, however, I think it generally runs against the nature of Ne dominance.

That's true to some extent. But I'd even take issue with Disney's stuff being "bright/happy." Yes, it all has a happy ending, but... Bambi is full of traumatic images for children (his mother being brutally shot and killed by a hunter, a massive fire that almost kills him, a horrific fight between him and another stag, etc); The Fox and the Hound is truly depressing, as it starts out a friendship between a little baby fox and a hound and winds up with them on opposite ends of life (more traumatic ideas for sensitive kids to deal with); in Pinocchio, orphan gluttonous boys are turned into donkeys and sold into brutal slavery; in Old Yeller, we fall in love with a dog who then gets rabies and turns rabid and his loving master has to shoot him; etc. etc.

I once had an entire conversation with my friends about how Disney traumatized entire generations of kids, because so much of it was effed up. Disney obviously thought kids could handle dark, serious material, he didn't coddle them or shy away from it, or downplay it. Turns out I was actually too sensitive for a lot of it. ;)

This could lead into a rant about how modern Disney has gone off the rails, lost most of their creative and unique spark, bought up everyone else, and now continues barfing up bland copies of their original strokes of genius, rather than be the kind of innovative company Walt envisioned. It's truly sad to see what has become of it; even if the company was never perfect, and neither was Walt, he was a true creative visionary on the cusp of innovations, and now the company is a pale imitation of itself. It has been horrific to see how the live-action versions of the animated films have lacked creativity, imagination, passion, and even good vocal talent. There is so little about them re-imagined, why remake any of them at all?

[voiceswithoutlips]

Calico - Chapter Eight

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU, fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 3k — Rating: G — warnings: Slight mention of past abuse, description of a panic attack. — beta: Thank you @taegularities​ and @joheunsaram​ <3

Tag List || Masterlist || Schedule

— chapter summary:

Y/N is having a hard day, who will comfort her?

— A/N: Guys, I’m so bad at summaries, if this was an exam my grades would’ve been in the negative. Anyway, welcome to the new chapter! I know I was supposed to post fallen, but somehow I ended up writing Calico instead.

I’ve had a bad case of writer’s block this week so writing this chapter was really painful, words refused to come out of my brain xD I hope you like it! You guys have been so awesome, all your feedback is really helpful. Thank you so much <3

— taglist: @lovelyseomin @anaac28 @ghostkat23 @btswdwsmhrdt @sweeneyblue1 @luvtaeha @taegularities @ aajames217 @ littlewolfieposts @nochujeonjk @hamiltrashlebo @minyoonsh @hoebii @ sunshinee0-0 @egm09 @cstobitk @splaterparty0-0 @missseoulite @mirawi-fox @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @hemmofluke @seaoffangirling @gee-nee @woopetals @secretbangtnn @vminkook-ownsme

Ch. 1  Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8.5

I made my way downstairs in search of breakfast. Ice cream, that’s what I needed. It was that kind of a day. I was tired, jet lagged, and the tension in the house had me on edge. The flight home was fairly uneventful, except for the part where Jimin had gotten scared of flying. He had asked to hold my hand, but by the time we were in the air, the hybrid was practically sitting on my lap. Not that I minded, he was hella cuddly and his purring was downright therapeutic.

When I had asked Jungkook, if it would be okay to bring the newer hybrids home, the bunny had sounded excited, but as soon as we had gotten home, the mood had suddenly shifted. It was not the welcome I was expecting.

First, Jungkook’s hair was the color of the rainbow. His beautiful black locks were turned into a colorful mess, his white bunny ears poking out of it in stark contrast. It was a riot of colors, artfully mixed together, and I felt like I was looking at rainbow pasta. Not that the bunny didn’t pull it off, he looked really cute in it, but somehow I had a raging suspicion that it hadn’t been Jungkook’s idea.

Then, there was the growling match. I had never seen Jungkook so aggressive before. The usually sweet and well behaved bunny had started growling at Jimin as soon as we’d entered the house.. That had set off a chain reaction with Namjoon and Seokjin joining in to protect their younger packmate.

On top of that, I had to go to Seoul for three days to take care of business. I had to visit the main office to attend a few meetings and sign some papers. The whole time I felt guilty about leaving the hybrids alone. I was constantly worried that somehow they’d end up fighting. By the time I came back, somehow, someway, Jason had managed to convince Jimin to dye his hair pink. He was on a warpath.

And lastly, there was the issue of a certain stuffed penguin that went missing -  my nights were sleepless without him. All in all, this had to have been one of the shittiest weeks, and it felt like I was losing my grip on reality.

I stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, struggling to keep them open. Unlike Jason, who was cheerfully humming, I was not a morning person. Seokjin was busy near the stove, cooking something and by the smell wafting from the pan, I could tell that it was something delicious. I had thanked every existing god when I’d learned that the sugar glider hybrid was actually an excellent chef. The first morning, he had seen Jason cook breakfast, he’d been horrified, promptly taking over the kitchen after that. Even Jungkook had begrudgingly ate his food.

My stomach grumbled as I peered in the pan. Kimchi fried rice, delicious. Unlike Jimin and Jungkook, the two older hybrids weren’t really that affectionate. I wondered if it was because they weren’t used to me yet or if they just had a different temperament. I needed to do more research on that.

I plopped down on the chair with a groan, resting my head on the counter, hands securely wrapped around my stomach. Jason gave me an enthusiastic “good morning” and I shot him a middle finger, too tired to curse at him. The bastard chuckled.

I was debating if I should stab him with a fork when I felt hands wrapping around my waist, long fingers intertwined with mine. Jungkook bent down to nuzzle the side of my face. His muscular body pressed close. My lips curled into a small smile as I made small happy noises. My brain wasn’t awake enough to form coherent sentences yet. I needed my cup of coffee or better yet, some delicious ice cream.

Jungkook’s arms tightened around me possessively, I could feel the vibrations in his chest as he let out a low growl. I opened my eyes to see Jimin standing near the chair, looking distressed, hands balled into fists at his sides. His tail was swishing rapidly in agitation, ears flattened to his head. He was biting his lower lip, trying his best not to respond to Jungkook’s hostility.

“Bunny no,” I croaked, patting his hands, my voice thick with sleep. I lifted my head, extending a hand to Jimin. Jungkook took his cue and reluctantly let me go, keeping hold of my other hand. Jimin grabbed my hand and with his other one checked my forehead, a worried look on his face.

“Are you sick?” he asked, gnawing on his lip.

“I’m just sleepy.” He giggled at my pout and graced me with a forehead kiss. He sat down next to me, and now I was sandwiched between two hybrids who were holding my hands, glaring daggers at each other. I rested my forehead on the counter with a sigh. What was I going to do with them?

Once again I was in a dilemma. I could scold them and make them shake hands, like a couple of kids, or I could let them handle it on their own, like adults. Taking care of four hybrids was tiring. I shot a quick glance at Seokjin, who was now setting up the table; he was ignoring the two younger hybrids in front of him, but his tail was curled tightly, ears flat. It seemed as if he was tense too.

“Guys, I need breakfast,” I said, reluctantly pulling my hands from their grip. I made my way to the fridge to grab a tub of my favorite ice cream, ignoring the stares that the hybrids were giving me. I had to stop myself from pulling Jason’s ear as I passed him, not now Y/N. The revenge for ruining Jungkook’s hair had to be elaborately planned, something memorable, just like old days. Like the time when I had super glued his shirt cuffs closed, so he couldn't put his hands through the sleeves. He had started this war, I was going to finish it.

“I like your garden!” Namjoon said as he walked in through the back door. Ears perked up, an excited glint in his eyes. I didn’t even know he was out there. I wondered if he could help me with the hybrid situation, he was a pack leader after all. He had informed me about hybrid pack dynamics on the plane while I cuddled a sleepy Jimin. Apparently he was their alpha, the leader of their pack, Seokjin was second in command and Jimin was their maknae. He was excited to meet Jungkook, since he was a rabbit hybrid, they're usually very docile and friendly. Needless to say, we had both been shocked at the bunny's behavior.

“I’m glad you like it. Maybe you could help me with it?”

“Really? I would love to!”

We all moved to the seldom used dining table for breakfast - now that there were six of us, the kitchen counter was too small to occupy us all. I debated where to sit, I didn't want to take sides in the hybrid cold war, so I chose to sit at the head of the table, safe middle ground. I knew Jungkook would want to share the ice cream. I wondered if the other hybrids would too, so I had brought extra spoons, just in case.

"Seokjin, this is delicious!" Jason said as soon as he took a bite of the fried rice. "Where did you learn to cook like this?" I couldn't help but smile at the hint of envy in his voice.

"Madame hired a professional chef to teach me when she found out I liked to cook," he said shyly, ears turning pink from all the attention. It was his cutest trait: whenever someone looked at him, his ears would start to redden.

"That was nice of her," I said dryly, the distaste apparent in my tone.

"She was really nice," Namjoon said pointedly, clearly disliking my tone.

“Clair was kind, she saved us from our previous owners and gave us a home,” Jimin joined him.

"Oh?" Jason said, trying to coax some details. The three hybrids shared a quick look. Jungkook had abandoned his fried rice and was digging into my ice cream, his ears perked, listening in on the conversation.

“My first owner was a gambler, but he didn’t play poker. He and his rich friends were into blood sports. They had their own dog fighting ring. He had raised me since I was a pup, trained me to be a fighter, forced me to participate. One day, Clair saw me at a party and she wanted to buy me, she offered him so much money that he couldn’t refuse,” Namjoon finished with a sad smile. I wanted to go and hug him, but I was sure the hybrid wouldn’t welcome the gesture.

“I…” Jimin paused, looking down at his hands. “The lady who raised me, she brought me clients. She’d sell me to people… sometimes it was for a night, sometimes it was more. She used to tell me that I was her lucky charm. Clair rescued me from her, she was really kind to me.”

The spoon in my hand clattered on the table. There was a ringing in my ear. My limbs were paralyzed, heart pounding in my chest as I felt the panic rise, almost drowning in it. I couldn't get enough air, finding myself on the verge of hyperventilating while my brain went into overdrive. It wasn’t my first panic attack, I was aware of what was happening to me, I knew I had to get a hold of myself. I couldn’t lose it here, not in front of them.

“Y/N? Hey can you hear me?” I turned towards the voice, Jason’s face slowly came into focus, “are you okay?”

“Y/N?” Jungkook said, looking extremely worried. He was holding my hand like a lifeline. I slowly removed his fingers and took my hand back.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I murmured, trying to control my breathing. I got up from the chair with wobbly knees, making my way towards the door. “You guys finish up, I’ll be in my office.”

Redemption, what a joke.

It was well into the afternoon when my stomach informed me that I was hungry. I was swarmed with paperwork. I’d been busy the whole week, running errands, filling forms, trying to keep the hybrids from tearing each other apart, so the paperwork got neglected, and now I was paying for it. I briefly wondered if I should go back home and grab something to eat, but then I remembered the look on everyone’s faces this morning. I had panicked in front of them. I had been feeling restless the whole week without a certain comfort penguin. I was too embarrassed to ask the guys if they had seen it.

I groaned, leaning back in my chair. How was I going to face them? What would I tell them if they asked? A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. “Come in.”

It was Jungkook, holding a bowl. He tentatively entered the office, looking everywhere but at me. His ears were drooping behind him. “I brought you lunch,” he said, setting the bowl on the table.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away this morning,” I apologized, extending a hand towards him, which he took hesitantly. I pulled him in my lap and buried my face in his chest; he smelled like vanilla.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, wrapping his big hands around me.

“No,” I whispered. “But don't worry bunny, I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.”

“Is it because of Jimin? Can’t we just send him away?”

That made me raise my head to look at him. “Why don’t you like him, bun?”

“He’s too clingy,” Jungkook pouted, jutting his lower lip out. It made me giggle.

“What about Namjoon and Seokjin?”

“They can stay, Seokjin hyung makes delicious food and Namjoon hyung is so cool.”

“Oh, did you talk to them?”

He shook his head no. I almost cooed at him - the poor bunny was too shy to talk to the older hybrids. “Why don’t you try making friends with Jimin? I bet you’ll like him if you got to know him better.”

He buried his face in my hair and shook his head, “...don't wanna.”

I took his hand in mine. “Won’t you do it for me?” I asked dramatically, trying to sound upset.

Jungkook leaned back to look at me, pout more pronounced. He knew exactly what I was doing. “Fine, I’ll try,” he agreed with a defeated sigh.

“Thank you, baby.” I kissed his palm in gratitude. At least he had agreed to try. “Why did you dye your hair?” I asked curiously, running my hands through his multicolored locks.

“Iwantyoutolikeme,” he said in one breath, hiding his face in my hair again.

“What?”

“I want you to like me.”

“You dyed your hair because you want me to like you?” Jungkook nodded. “Oh baby, I already like you!” I squeezed him tight, letting him know how much he meant to me. Is that what Jason had told Jimin? That I’d like him better if he dyed his hair? Jason was diabolical, I really needed to come up with a good plan to get back at him.

“Bun, next time, don’t listen to Jason.”

I was curled up on the sofa with a blanket. It was past midnight but I was wide awake and restless, staring at the ceiling. I had almost turned on the TV, but then I remembered that there were four hybrids in the house with phenomenal hearing, and I really didn’t want to wake them up. And thus, I suffered in silence.

I hadn’t seen the three new hybrids all day; they hadn’t been introduced to the shelter yet, so they stayed at home. When I came back from work, they were already in their room. They had insisted on staying in the same room, something about new places and pack bonding. I was giving Jason the cold shoulder, at least until he apologized for his crimes. And Jungkook was busy playing his new video games.

Clair had saved Jimin.

The thought rang in my head. Why hadn’t she saved me? Would things have been different, if she had stepped in? I had to admit, I was a tiny bit jealous of the panther hybrid. She had saved him.

Madame was so kind.

I was furious. How dare she? Clair had been a coward, had lived and died as one. I knew it in my soul, never in a million years would I ever forgive that woman. She didn’t deserve it.

“You’re angry,” a quiet voice said. I looked up to see a tall silhouette standing at the bottom of the stairs. Seokjin stepped out of the shadows, clutching a pillow in his hands.

“I was thinking. Can’t sleep?”

“Namjoon snores really loudly,” he complained. It made me laugh. The three of them were always attached to the hip, I had wondered if it was because they were uncomfortable here.

“You know we have plenty of spare bedrooms, you can take any of them.”

“Why are you here?”

“I can’t sleep.” I shrugged. Seokjin nodded understandingly, but he didn’t move an inch. “Do you want to sleep on the couch?”

He hesitated, looking as if he was unsure if he should accept my offer before he murmured, “can I?”

“Of course! But I think, a bed would be more comfortable,” I said, moving from the couch to the armchair. Seokjin sat down on the couch, placing his pillow near him.

“Why can’t you sleep? Is it because of what Jimin said?” he asked cautiously, ears erect and attentive.

“I have insomnia.” I shrugged, but Seokjin kept staring at me. I squirmed under his piercing gaze;  staring at me like he could see right through my bullshit. “I didn’t have a good relationship with Clair. She raised me, but she was cruel, unkind. I just… can’t fathom her as someone nice.”

“So it had nothing to do with Jimin being a prostitute?” he asked suspiciously.

“WAIT! Is that what you guys thought? Oh my god, I would never…” I was shocked. No wonder the hybrids were avoiding me like the plague. “I’m really sorry, if it seemed that way but it's not like that. I’m really happy that Clair rescued him. He deserves a good home, a family. I don’t think you’d believe me, even if I told you what my aunt was like. I’m really sorry, if I hurt you guys. But believe me when I say that this is not a place where you’ll be judged for your past.”

“You mean that.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I do.”

“You could sleep on the couch with me?” Seokjin offered sheepishly, ears turning the color of strawberries. I was surprised to see him be so direct. He had been very reserved around me till now, only talking when necessary.

“Are you sure? Won’t you be uncomfortable?” I asked, eyeing the couch. It was big enough to seat five people comfortably, but Seokjin was big too.

He nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Seokjin adjusted the pillow and laid down on the sofa, leaving room for me. I stood there with my hello kitty blanket, wondering if it was okay. The sudden change in the hybrid’s demeanor was unexpected and I gave up trying to dissect the situation. I had to admit, I was feeling a bit cuddly since the loss of my penguin and I desperately needed sleep. I scooched on the sofa, covering both of us with the blanket, resting my head on his arm.

“You’re not okay,” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around my waist, his tail curling around my thigh.

“I just need some sleep,” I sighed. Seokjin was like a furnace behind me. I wondered why all hybrids were this warm.

“Lies,” he said as he lightly nibbled on my ear. I gasped at the unexpected contact, my heart beating so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” my voice came out breathier than I had intended.

“I do, I just didn’t know how to approach you. You seem so independent, I didn’t know where I could fit in your life. The only thing I could do for Clair was look pretty. But this.... this I can do, I can comfort you. I want to be useful.”

I turned around to look at him. “Oh honey, you don’t have to be useful. You’re you and that’s enough for me. I just want you to be happy.” I lightly kissed his cheek.

“I’m going to be your comfort blanket,” Seokjin said with a smile and hugged me closer.

Previous || Next

[pheita]

More answers *wiggles excited* I know you will wiggle excited, too @stormbrightwriter Last two for tomorrow but today a triple answer, yay! And I am working on my worldbuilding month idea. Anyway, did I mention answers? 6) What is a common profession, if any, for demons of those types? As mentioned befire fox demons are more prone to work in areas that need social and emotional intelligence where dragons are more prone to areas with logic and clear patterns. You will often find dragon demons taking pride in working in science and claiming they make better scientist because they are less animalistic than the fox demons, where in fact it is mostly based on dragon demons loving structured work and fox demons being more of free-spirit. But it isn’t as clear as it seems the first moment. If you take closer looks at the numbers, you will be surprised to find a usual 60/40 balance of fox and dragon demons working in the same job. It is simply more that fox demons have slightly stronger number in things as arts, history, languages and such where dragon tend to have a slightly higher number on things as science, doing organizing or planning work, and jobs that need a lot of physical strength such as construction workers. The only thing you can really claim is the circumstance that dragon demon mages are less but compared to the fox demons stronger from the start.

7) How do they care for their children? As different as the circumstances to have children is for fox and dragon demons, they are similar when it comes to raise the little ones. Typically, the first years, the parents and the family care for the children. The help is needed because having only one child is rare. It is more common to have twins or triplets for both, where fox demons are more likely to have triplets. Once the children can walk on their own, families will visit the parks, community centers, and other recreational areas made for families for the children to meet others their age and discover the world in a save way. At the same time, the children will be cared for more by relatives and friends to give the parents more time for themselves again and take a breath. So play-dates at each other places or aunts and uncles taking the kids for a few days is common, and it is easy to get a few days off from work to watch over the children. Most families let their offsprings develop on their own account but as always, you will find adults who try to “encourage” the development with sneakily teaching the children things, but it is commonly frowned upon.

8) How do they care for their elders? With both side easily living up to 1500 years, it is common to stop working or at least only part-time around 1000 years of age. The retirement is seen as “second childhood” because it is used to do the things folks wanted to do but had no time for. You will find elders teaching for free at the community centers, learning a new hobby and with the young ones of their relatives. There is a basic respect for those older than yourself, which often shows with the respectful titles being used, and it transports to the elders. As long as possible will family members care for their elders and only make space for trained caregivers when the elder in question needs a lot of care which can’t be handled by the family anymore because it is either too much or certain medical attention is needed. A lot of fox demons have a hard time to accept when it is time for their older relatives to be handed to trained nurses because the sense of family comes with guilt over not being able to care for the loved ones.

[the11tailed]

Fandom: The Magnus Archives, Star Wars The Clone Wars (2008), vague Dead by Daylight

Tags: @crc-general-orin, @crc-commodore-sana9

Reblogs are love ^-^

-

[Recorder click]

Statement of Tup Fett regarding an incident that occurred in a Junkyard when he was a child.

Audio recording by Tech Fett, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institution, London.

Statement begins

I never blamed my brothers for what happened, it was my fault in a way. I never should have gone to that junkyard. It was a dare. Just a dare. It was harmless. 

I was 7 at the time. My brother’s Fives and Echo had dared me to go into the weird junkyard out by our old house. It's not a bad junkyard. It's just a dump a few meters back of the houses. Someone started a rumor that dead bodies were found there, but many members of my family is in law enforcement and they stated that no bodies were ever found, so I never believed those tales. Fives and Echo had been charged with taking care of myself and my twin, Dogma as all other members of my family were busy. Fives and Echo are good brothers, don't misread this, but they were not babysitters.

It was obvious early on they did not know what they were doing. They took us to the Junkyard, as they went there for fun a lot. It was a short walk, and sooner than I'd like, we were at the entrance. I was a bit scared, but Dogma was petrified. He clung to Echo and refused to go in. He said the "shadow people" didn't like this place. The shadow people were Dogma's imaginary friends (yet on some days I wondered if they were really imaginary) and he had them since, well, he was four after our uncle...did some disgusting things to him. I won't go into detail, but you can guess what our uncle did. He started seeing these "shadow people" everywhere. Anyway, I'm getting off track.

Fives only laughed when Dogma mentioned the shadow people. He dared us to go in

"It'll be fun!" he had said this with such glee.

I wanted to prove to my big brother that I was brave. So I went in. It was like any junkyard I've ever seen. It was just stuff piled high with no real order to it. I wandered for a bit, not long. It was when I turned a corner did I see the gate. At first, I couldn't figure out why it put me on edge. It was pitch black, with vines from some plant coiling around it so tight it warped the metal. I could see strange flowers bloomed on various and random places on the gate. I was curious so I got closer. I wish I hadn't. I wished I had turned and walked back to Fives and Echo and didn't go through the gate. But I did.

I stepped through the gate and the world around me warped. I don't really know how to describe it. The world almost folded around me and I felt really hot and really cold at the same time. Then it unfolded and refolding again and again. When it stopped I was standing in a junkyard but it was different from the one I had been in. This one had broken down cars everywhere. The next thing I realized was that the sky had taken a red tint, casting the whole area in a red glow that sent shivers down my spine. I turned, wanting to go back, only to find the gate slammed shut. I ran to it, but it had no handle. I saw a lever, but when I pulled it, nothing happened. I was scared and so utterly alone. I reached into my pocket for my phone, I need to call for help, but found my pocket empty of any phone, lost I looked around. I spotted the generator. It was an old thing, just sitting there. It wasn't on and I got the odd feeling that I needed to fix it. I walked over to it. I didn't know what I hoped to do, I was 7 and sure as hell didn't know how to fix a generator, and yet I did. I worked on it for 2 and a half minutes and fixed it. I still have no idea how. When it clicked on I got this odd sense of dread. I got up and walked to one of the red lockers that was sitting near the generator as the sense of dread grew into terror. I opened it and climbed in, closing the door. The terror I felt made my heart hammer in my chest. And then I heard it. The thump thump of something heavy walking near. The smell of rotting flesh was so strong I nearly gagged. I knew the smell of rotting flesh anywhere. My Grandpappy Jaster owned a farm, and one time I had found a dead cow that had been missing for days. She had wandered up into a wooded area and died. I found her and vaguely remember losing my lunch and crying into my older brother, Fox's, shoulder. Grandpappy did feel real bad about that, even though it was not his fault.

I heard a snarl of rage before the heavy footfalls got quieter and quieter. The sense of fear and dread went with it. Once I could no longer feel the dread, I climbed out of the locker and hurried off in the opposite direction of the footfalls.

I have no idea how long I ran. It was a while before I ran into anyone. I mean literally, I ran right into someone. A man in his 20's wearing a suit, now torn, ripped, muddy, and bloody. He had black hair and green eyes and I would later learn his name was Anthony. Anthony looked horrified to see me. I was confused back then, but I know why now. He was scared because I was a seven-year-old kid put in a demented game with a ruthless killer, but I'm getting ahead of my self. Anthony helped me up and hurried me along. I was went with him, too scared not to. He led me to another generator.

"I'm guessing you got the 3rd generator," he said and I just nodded.

"We just need two more and then we are free," he said that with such a hopeful tone.

There was another person with us, a young woman named Sarah. She was a young woman, maybe 19 or 20 with short, dyed pink hair and a few piercings. Her clothes were tattered and bloody and I noted she had a bandaged wrapped around her shoulder, yet I could see no wound. She was already working on the gen. Myself and Anthony knelt and helped her. Soon, with a rumbling click, the gen turned on. Then the dread crept in. I looked around desperately for a locker, but found none. Anthony grabbed me and dragged me behind a stone wall. There was a tree near us and I had to hold in a gag at the scent of rotten meat wafted from the crow slung up on the bark of the tree, stomach open. Anthony put his finger to his lips and we sat there crouched. The dread turned into terror and I heard the footsteps. thump thump. Loud and commanding. I was scared, far more scared than I had ever been in my life. I was shaking and Anthony knew that. He placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to console me. Then I saw Sarah run and I got the first look at the monster. It was humanoid, an arm covered in strange, boil like spots. I think the most horrifying part was it's face. It's flesh there was pulled, I have no idea how else to explain it. There were staples on various parts of it's body. It was terrifying. It held a chainsaw in one hand and a hammer in the other and it ran after Sarah. It activated it's chainsaw and I heard it whir and then the squelch of it hitting flesh. I heard Sarah scream, a sound so raw and so painful I wanted to cry. I think I was. I watched as it threw Sarah over it's shoulder. It carried her to a hook standing in the field. It was nothing special, but I found it odd that the hook was just there, swaying ever so slightly in the wind. Then, it threw Sarah onto the hook and she screamed again. He watched her gag for a second before limping off and vanishing into the tall grass. I tugged at Anthony's sleeve

"Shouldn't we help her?" I had asked through tears but Anthony shook his head

"Death hook" was all he said

Sure enough, long spider like limps emerged from the hook and impaled her. I watched in horror as they lifted Sarah's body up as more spider-like limbs descended down and grabbed her body and lifted her up into the void above. Once her body was gone, the limbs emerging from the hook, knocked the hook off and onto the ground. I let out a chocked sob as the realization hit me. I had just watched a person die.

"C'mon kid," Anthony had said and ushered me along.

I followed numbly, I was in shock, but the gravity of our situation shook me out of it quick. We found the last gen quick. We worked on it fast, but slow enough as to not make mistakes.

"I have a kid around your age," said Anthony, smiling at me, "Once I get out of here I plan to hug them and remind them how much I love them. You got any family,"

I nodded,

"Lot's of big brothers, a dad," I sniffled, "How does time pass?"

"I've been here a few minutes, what's the date,"

"the first of august, 2009," I responded and he looked pale

"No, it's-it's the second of January," I shook my head at that and we lapsed into silence. The dread came just as the gen clicked on. We both shot up, but by that time the dread was terror. It was here. Anthony ran at it and tried to draw it away from me, but it didn't work. I ran as it chased me, fear surging through my limbs, but I was seven, I wasn't fast enough. Do you know what it feels like to be slammed in the back with a chainsaw? I can't even begin to describe the pain. It hurt worse than any injury I had ever gotten and I screamed. Next thing I knew, I was being carried over it's shoulder. It was taking me to an open field. There were two hooks. Both faced each other. He threw me on one. The pain from that was worse than the chainsaw as the metal hook ripped through soft flesh and muscles and threw bone and I screamed a blood curdling scream. I was only there for a moment when I heard a strange noise. The gate had been opened. A sense of panic hit me. Had Anthony left me to die. But then I heard the whir of a chainsaw and a cry. It hooked Anthony right in front of me. He gave me a small smile as the creature ambled off.

"Listen," he had said, "Gates open, straight ahead, hurl yourself off the hook and run, don't stop, don't try to get me, I'm on death hook, Just run,"

"How?" I cried in desperation.

"Throw yourself off the hook," he said before the limbs stabbed him and dragged him away.

I wanted to cry, but it would have to wait. I took a deep breath and threw myself forward and off the hook. There was an explosion of pain, but I didn't register it. I ran. Ran as fast as I could. I saw the gate, wide open and tore forward. The whir of the chainsaw came from behind me and I got the idea to bob and weave. I did and it worked. I knocked over a pallet with strength I didn't even know I had and tore to the gate. I ran threw the gate out without stopping. Like before, the world folded in on me and repeated until, it stopped. I was back in the junkyard, no broken cars in sight and a soft blue of the sky almost made me sob. Warm blood trickled down and, to my horror, I realized I was still hurt. I reached into my pocket and was greeted with my phone. I called the first number I could think of. 911. I just said I was hurt in the Junkyard, fell and hurt my shoulder and that I need help and fast. The operator was a nice lady, helped keep me calm. The fire and rescue arrived fast and I felt happiness when the words 212 came into view along with squad car 1010. I wanted to cry as I ran towards them. I watched Helix run and catch me and I collapsed into my cousin's arms.

"Tup?" he had sounded so horrified and I guess he had the right to.

Fox rushed over and froze when he saw me. Helix was treating me as fast as he could as Fox knelt beside me and cupped by face with his hand. He told me it was all okay now, and that I was safe. I knew I was.

I woke up in the hospital three days later. I learned that I had been missing for almost an entire month. Fives and Echo felt so guilty, blamed themselves, but I could never blame them. Never.

-

Statement ends.

Another victim of the Entity's twisted games, and my own cousin. I remember the scramble for search parties when Tup went missing, but I still lived with my abusive mom, so my brother's and I were unable to search for Tup, who had been a close friend in high school for me. After this, Tup went through a lot of therapy, but he still struggles. He informed me one day, years ago, that he too now sees the shadow people. I've seen the shadow people too. All my brother's have. They are always there, just watching us.

As for follow up, there is not much we can do. The entity exists in a realm outside of ours and we have no way of stopping it or telling who it's next victim will be.

So another dead end, but not matter. Unfortunately, most of the files in the archives have statements made by members of my family. A lot mention a horrible tragedy and the sudden appearance of these shadow people. I wish to look into them, but my own shadow people have grow restless, usually that means-

[Static on recorder]

Yes, I know

[Static]

Yes

[Static]

Fine

End recording

[Recorder click]

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 11

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link! Chapter 6 Link! Chapter 7 Link! Chapter 8 Link! Chapter 9 Link! Chapter 10 Link!

Summary: Things are coming to a head. Poor Red.

Warnings: descriptions of blood and injury, self depreciation, mentions of past abuse, mention of one character dismissing their own abuse in the past in passing

Chapter 11: Escalation and Benefaction

Jin was not expecting a celebratory parade when he managed to sneak his way out of his confinement, but he wasn’t expecting the dead silence that greeting him either.

“Hmn... maybe she can’t keep her attention divided up between the four of us as easily as I thought,” he muttered to himself. “Or maybe my extra tricks back there actually worked.”

There was only so much one person could pay attention to at any given moment, and Jin was looking to take advantage of that fact. That, and the fact Jade face didn’t know how easy it would be for him to set up a continuous loop of some of his past actions (pacing, laying down, pacing again, kicking the bed, etc) to distract her into thinking he had given up in frustration. Should she ask him something and he not answer, he hoped that she would be able to believe that he was giving her the silent treatment.

As for being on the outside... he needed to be careful. He had an extra cloak on him now, something that he knew would only fool the system for a short while and something that he couldn’t share with the others. If he had been able to, they all probably would have been out of here by now.

He needed to be quick, he needed to be silent, and he needed to use everything about the Calabash he and Yin had built from scratch deep in his own memory to his advantage.

... now if only he could remember the stupid shortcut key code so he wouldn’t have to wander around like a headless chicken...

~

Mei held back a wince as the blood on Pigsy’s back ceased flowing. It was much more than he should be able to survive losing, transparency to it allowing her to look at it without much more reaction. It worried her how the rest of it had started not to bother her, the sight of exposed bone quickly vanishing after that. Now, once she was able to properly ignore it, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

She tried to think back to what MK and Jin had told her about the Calabash. Jin knew the inner workings of the machine (for some reason he called it more of a  Lotus Eater than the original type of artifact the Calabash of old was, but she had no idea what that actually meant), but he had never actually been inside of one that was trying to work on him actively. Only test runs, and they weren’t a match for the real deal like MK had gone through.

The Monkie Kid had made one thing clear, smell in particular was dulled. And as long as the biting coppery smell of blood wasn’t there fully Mei knew she could handle this. None of it was real.

There were other things to look out for, little glitches that would showcase weaknesses in where the machine was trying to make things work but failed.

She’d seen a few of these so far, watching the monkey dancers she’d seen two of them buffer like on a live stream and then jump forward back into position. She watched as a cat seemed to teleport instead of jump from one food stand to another. The more she paid attention to them instead of her friends the more of them she began to notice.

The Calabash didn’t seem to be doing as good a job trying to keep four different people contained at once as Princess Jade Face seemed to think it was. Or maybe the fox spirit just didn’t care as long as the job was done.

“What’cha thinking about over there?” Tang voice called out from behind her. The parade was long since passed, faster than she thought it would have come to think of it, and the four of them were making their way back to Pigsy’s food stall. The festivities weren’t over with yet, they still had customers to feed and then they had to pack everything up, and-

When Mei turned to look at Tang they were all on the ground, a crowd surrounding all of them and half staring at the bodies while the rest stared at her sword. Brilliant and green and shining with freshly spilled blood.

~

“Bud?” The fake Wukong asked softly, stepping forward with a look of concern on his face. “Are you ok?”

“No,” MK answered honestly without even thinking, fighting the urge to take an immediate step back away from the sight of his mentor. Every time he looked his face seemed to flicker back to the one from not even a few minutes ago. Cold. Angry. Disappointed.

“No?” Fake Wukong repeated, looking at him for a second before scowling. MK did not fight the flinched step back this time as he shook his head, looking at his student with disdain. “Why did I ever pick someone like you to be my successor anyway? Damn, my brother was right, you are the worst possible choice for anything.”

“Wh-what?” MK asked, eyes widening in shock. “B-brother?”

Fake Wukong scoffed, looking more like Macaque in his motions than Wukong. MK didn’t know if this was making what was before his eyes better or worse.

“I knew you were dumb, Kid, but damn,” Wukong shook his head, and despite the fakeness of his words that still hurt. That hurt deeper down than he would ever admit to anyone out loud. “I didn’t know you were this much of an idiot. Your own boss is Zhu Bajie and you can’t even put the pieces together to realize that’s the brother I am talking about? Pathetic. I should have picked Mei, she would have been so much better at this than you. Or Red Son, even-”

MK didn’t pay attention to the rest of the Monkey King’s tirade. He couldn’t. He did what he was second best at. Not paying attention. He let his mind unfocus and wander and think about the only thing in this conversation that he latched on to.

Pigsy was Zhu Bajie's reincarnation. He knew that, he’d known that since he and Wukong had reunited and Pigsy got so angry at his mentor for not recognizing him even in his newest life. But he had forgotten just how important that was over time. He knew the stories, he knew who Sun Wukong’s enemies wore... and he knew who Zhu Bajie’s were. Pigsy was his father figure, the man next to Tang who had cared for him the longest and next to Wukong also cared about him the most. Pigsy was as close to Mei and Red Son as he was now. He’d called them both his kids before.

MK wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, he would readily admit that both Mei and Red Son were smarter than him in multiple ways, but the fake Wukong was wrong. He wasn’t an idiot. And now he knew exactly what Princess Jade Face actually wanted, what she was trying to do. He’d had it happen before, long ago with other people. Unfortunately for him, he was also smart enough to know that whatever happened to the three of them now... she probably didn’t care. They weren’t the ones she was truly after at all.

“Are you even listening to me?” Fake Wukong snapped, glowering down at him with even more anger than before. But then he softened, sighing as his form glitched and his concerned visage took back over. “Bud? I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me... can you forgive me?”

“Yeah,” MK said softly, nodding his head down. Now he focused, taking in everything around him and deciding on what to pay attention to. The monkeys that were with them during training glitched. He couldn’t hear the wind the way it should have been. The incense that should have been burning at the memorial shrine was not there. “I’m sorry Monkey King, I promise I can do better.”

He gave his widest and most fake smile, the one he had used on so many time and time again.

“OK,” Fake Wukong smiled, and the world glitched around them.

~

Red Son knew that to a lot of people this wouldn’t have been as bad as it seemed to him. Red Son knew that to a lot of people this would seem like something he should have been able to move past and forget. Red Son was like most people at first. Berating himself for not being over it, for being hurt, for running what his father said to him over and over in his head as he told himself “it wasn’t that bad, he barely even did anything why are you upset?”

“What I said back then,” DBK growled out, placing Red Son down once they were far away from their food stall. He didn’t hurt him, but the tight feeling of being held that way lingered. “When the spirit possessed me? I didn’t like the idea of thinking I had thought those things myself.”

MK and Mei were not "a lot of people”. They were the only two that knew what had happened between himself and his father on the day of the Lunar New Year festival. Not even Sun Wukong knew why he had fled to Flower Fruit Mountain to seek him out that day.

“But now I know you truly are a disappointment,” he continued, just as he had that day. His voice was low, both in volume and in tone, but the words his Red’s ears like they were screamed at him. “To throw everything away for something as petty as... what? Fear? Pain? You are a demon! Our whole lives are fear and pain! You have grown soft, under that teaching or over time I do not know which, but I have no place for a weakness like you.”

Red Son said nothing. There were no glitches. He had said nothing before. He clenched his fists, bit his lip, remembered what Mei and MK had told him.

His father scoffed, reaching forward with a claw to rip the necklace hidden under his shirt off his neck. The phantom pain of his neck burning from the pull as the chain snapped lingered longer than anything else here had.

“You are a disgrace,” DBK bit out, sounding for all the world like he had just been insulted in the highest degree. “You’re barely even my son. No... No, if you’re going to fall down to this? After your mother and I fought so hard to get you back? After I was trapped for so long because of you? Then I don’t have one.”

The world glitched forward a bit. He remembered, he had tried to argue with his father. But he hadn’t listened. The glitch ended and he was backed into a corner, his father’s huge face in his own as he scowled. He was intimidating him. Never touching, never laying a hand on him.

“Then prove it, calf. If you are my son, if you aren’t the disappointment you have proven yourself to be time and time again, then show me,” he stood back to his full height, scowling and eyes glowing in energy. “Go to the Little Thief. Join him. And either defeat me in battle, prove to me by besting me that we should no longer fight... or bring me his head.”

And that was it. His father jumped, leaving him behind feet from the food stall.

Disowned. Abandoned. With two impossible tasks.

Red Son slipped to the ground, shaking as he remembered what Mei and MK had told him when he told them the truth. Of why he flew to Flower Fruit Mountain, the one place where his father could never follow. Why he had let Wukong take him to Pigsy’s Noodles when he found him on the beach, sad and alone and soaking in the ocean water he had crashed landed in. Why he had been so hesitant to get close to anyone but was so willing to offer then any information or tech they needed.

Mei and MK told him that he was hurt. That it was ok that he felt hurt. That what his father had done wasn’t something to just get over. What his mother had done was much the same. That he was hurting because they had hurt him.

The steam that was his tears that billowed out from the corners of his eyes told him that he thought they were right.

“Oh... my poor little cub,” a soft voice rang out from behind his ear, and Red Son didn’t even have the chance to jump before arms that only felt half there wrapped around his shoulders. “Had I known that my husband would treat you this way I would have come back sooner. You don’t have to go back to him, you know.” The soft chuckling in his ear was warped, glitched, but sounded too close to not be from her. Princess Jade Face was smiling in the corner of his eye, soft and warm and terrifying.

“I don’t plan on hurting you, Red Boy. I promise.”

Red Son did not believe her.

[atths--twice]

Christmas Eve, 1994

After being abducted and insisting she is fine, a month in quarantine proves that may not be entirely true. It has also been a year since her father passed away. How will Scully and her family spend the day? Will Mulder be included? 

I love Firewalker, it's one of my favorite episodes. I rewatched it recently and I love episode where they are stranded and watching out for each other. Mulder is much more protective of Scully in this episode and I love it. Some might see it as him being too pushy or overbearing, but I don't. He missed her and worried about her and he doesn't want her to get hurt. Not after she had been gone for so long and he had no idea if he would ever see her again. His worry for her is incredibly sweet in my opinion.

So, I started to think about what happened during their month long quarantine and after they came home. They would have been home about mid December with Christmas just around the corner. What kind of plans were made in the Scully family? It intrigued me and thus this story began to emerge.

I hope you enjoy! Happy Holidays!

December 15, 1994

Scully sighed as she entered her apartment, exhausted after the flight home. The air felt thick and stale as she stood and looked around, the emptiness it had experienced during their month in quarantine nearly tangible.

With a groan, she walked to the refrigerator, sure she was going to find various forms of mold growing inside of it. Opening the door, she saw it was nearly empty and she frowned before she smiled slightly.

Her mother must have come by, knowing the length of time they would be away. Thankful she had done so, she sighed and closed the refrigerator. Rolling her neck as she headed to the bathroom, intent on taking a long soak in the tub, her phone rang and she groaned.

Hoping it was not Mulder calling with some rogue case he had found, considering they had been given a week off, citing a month long quarantine where they had been poked and prodded daily, as a sufficient excuse to give them a chance to relax.

“Hello?” she said, closing her eyes and crossing her fingers.

“Dana! You’re home! I was going to leave you a message on your machine, but I’m so glad to hear you’re home.” She smiled at the happiness she heard in her mother’s voice.

“Just got home actually, not more than ten minutes ago. Your mother senses must have been activated.” Her mother laughed and Scully walked down the hall to start the bath, letting the tub fill as they continued to speak.

“Thank you for taking care of things here,” Scully said, pouring some lavender bubble bath into the warm water. Breathing in deeply, she sighed as the scent washed over her.

“Of course, honey. Umm, the reason I was going to leave you a message was about Christmas. I know you’ve just gotten back, but it’s only a few days away. I wanted to let you know Bill and Tara won’t be here as he had hoped, but Missy will be and Charlie. He has a flight on Christmas Day, but he will be here Christmas Eve. I thought… as it’s been a year since we lost your dad… it would be nice to have, if not everyone, as many as we can home this year.”

“Yeah,” Scully said softly, closing her eyes as she thought of her dad, remembering the way he behaved at Christmas, tolerating it all with a shake of his head and a small smile on his face.

“I just… I’d hoped you’d be home.”

“I’m here,” she whispered, opening her eyes and watching the bubbles rising in the tub.

“You aren’t leaving again?”

“God, I hope not.” Her mother hummed and she smiled. “No, we’re off for a few days. Time off for good behavior it seems.” This time her mother was silent and Scully sighed quietly.

“So everyone who’s in town will be there?” she asked, hoping to break the tension that had appeared.

“Yes. It’ll be good, I think.”

“I agree, Mom. What time?”

“7:30 for dinner on Christmas Eve. Oh, and please ask Fox to join us.”

__________________

Scully stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a large towel, as the water gurgled loudly down the drain. She felt flushed, her toes and fingers pruney, her hair wet and dripping down her back.

Grabbing another towel, she wrapped it around her hair, and wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror. Shaking her head as she looked at her reflection, she let out an exasperated breath.

Please ask Fox to join us.

Her mother’s words had been playing on repeat since she had hung up the phone. She knew she and Mulder had formed a bond when she was missing, her mother telling her how much it had affected him when she was gone. How he had looked every time she saw him: his disheveled appearance, the circles under his eyes, his unanimated expressions.

“He was lost, Dana,” her mother had said and Scully shook her head, not wanting to hear it.

Not after she had no memory of what did happen. And especially not after the nightmares had begun; the thought of the faceless men in the white room, a drill of some kind coming toward her, voices she could not understand, and the fear she felt at being unable to move.

She had them more while they had been in quarantine, perhaps the constant medical attention bringing them closer to the surface.

The first night it had happened, when she had woken up soaked in sweat, tears on her face, and her breathing erratic, her door had burst open and Mulder was there, the light from the hall all that filled her darkened room.

“Are you… are you okay? I heard screaming…” He had stood in the doorway, rumpled from sleep, as though unsure if he should enter any further.

“I… I don’t know. No, I… I’m fine,” she had lied and wiped at her face, turning away from him, her heart still racing.

“Like hell. You’re not fine.” She had turned her head, ready to yell at him, tell him she was perfectly capable of knowing how she felt, when the look on his face had stopped her.

He had looked exhausted and as she stared, she realized he had looked that way since before they ever came to the goddamn volcano. He had not wanted her to go, insisting she take more time off, but she had insisted more, telling him she needed to work.

During the time there, he had been overprotective and they both knew it. She understood, she did, but it had also pissed her off immensely. She could do her job and he knew that. She knew he knew that, yet it still had not stopped him from hovering or insisting she stay back and out of danger.

But as he had stood in the doorway of her room, his worry for her finally something she was ready to truly see, she had felt the anger drain out of her.

“It was a bad dream, that’s all,” she had said quietly.

“You’re okay?” She had nodded and he had run his hand through his hair, nodding as he reached for the door handle. “Okay. Good night then.”

“Wait. Would… could you… would you mind staying for a bit? Just…” She had watched the emotions cross his face and she sighed. “You don’t have to… I… I’m fine now.”

“I can stay,” he had said, letting the door close and sitting in the lone chair in the room. He had smiled slightly at her as she adjusted her pillows and laid down.

The room had been silent until he started talking about something inane, her eyes closing as she had fallen asleep to the sound of his voice.

During the month they had spent there, he had come to her room a total of ten times, when her nightmares had woken him and he wanted to be sure she was okay. Eventually he had foregone the chair, and instead laid beside her. They did not touch, but his voice was like a balm, calming her and allowing her to sleep peacefully.

Now though, they were home, and she knew they would not speak of it again. Even though they both knew how much they needed the other, this would be something that remained known, but unspoken.

Changing into her pajamas, she dried her hair, had a cup of tea and went to bed, her body and mind exhausted.

___________________

December 16, 1994

The next day she cleaned her entire apartment. She did laundry, cleaned the bathroom and kitchen, dusted and vacuumed, finding peace in creating a clean environment.

When she had finished, she went shopping, buying enough groceries for the week, knowing for certain she would be home for at least that amount of time.

She made a salad and a chicken breast for dinner, drinking a glass of red wine as she did. Glancing at the phone, she realized that she had not heard from Mulder all day.

It was not unheard of, especially considering they had just spent a month together, day in and day out, but it still felt odd. Sighing as she stared at the phone, both wishing it would and praying it did not ring, she finished her glass of wine and cleaned up the kitchen.

_____________________

December 17, 1994

In the morning, she called Ellen, who was delighted to hear from her, asking her many questions and inquiring after Mulder.

“How’s that “not jerk” partner of yours?” Ellen teased and Scully smiled, remembering the day so long ago when she had thought that way about Mulder; his stubbornness and single minded drive, overwhelming at times.

“He’s good,” she answered simply, not divulging any details.

“Still not a jerk?”

“Definitely not.”

“That’s good.”

“Hmm.”

Plans were made for lunch the next day and Scully went to bed early, her thoughts on why once again she had not heard from Mulder.

____________________

December 18, 1994

“So then I said, ‘well I’m not cleaning it up,’” Ellen said with a chuckle and the other women laughed. Scully forced a smile, her hands gripping her napkin.

When Ellen suggested lunch, Scully had not anticipated other women joining them. She did not know them and their presence had made her uncomfortable. She had been good at this once before, small talk and even gossip.

But now…

It felt commonplace and to be honest, a bit silly. She dealt in darkness and conspiracies, men who killed to protect government secrets. Listening to stories of household problems, kids who did not listen, or husbands who played too much golf, felt ridiculous and she had to fight rolling her eyes.

“I was abducted!” she wanted to yell, to see their faces when she said it. To have the table fall silent, not to continue the discussion about her abduction, but to shut them all up.

“That was fun, Dana. We need to do this more often. I know you’re busy, but we need to see each other more often,” Ellen said, hugging Dana goodbye a bit later.

“Yes, we do.” She hugged her back and closed her eyes, knowing she would not be calling, their lives far too different.

Driving away from the restaurant, she made a left instead of a right and wound up at Mulder’s apartment. Sitting in her car, she heard her mother’s words again, and she closed her eyes.

Please ask Fox to join us.

Turning off the car, she stepped out and locked the doors. Walking through his lobby, her heart began to race, not knowing why.

You’re being an idiot, she admonished herself as she stepped into the elevator. What in the hell is there to be nervous about? She shook her head and sighed as the elevator began to rise.

Clearing her throat, she knocked on his door and waited. Her fingers traced over his apartment key on her key ring that he had given her months ago, deciding if she should use it, when she heard him moving around inside. She swallowed as she stepped back and put both hands in her pockets.

“Hey,” he said, a look of surprise on his face. “I thought you were the Chinese food I ordered.”

“Sorry, no.” She smiled and he opened the door wider. She stepped in, under his arm, and stopped in the dining room, turning to look at him.

“Figured you would have been tired of seeing my ugly mug,” he teased as he closed the door. She smiled slightly and looked down. “You okay?” She nodded and raised her head. His eyes searched hers and she sighed.

“I had lunch today with some old friends. Well… an old friend who invited others to join us. I didn’t know them and…” She sighed again, shrugging her shoulders.

“You didn’t like them?”

“I don’t know. I…”

A knock sounded at the door and they both jumped. He put up a finger and she nodded as he opened the door and paid the delivery man. Closing the door again, he set the bag of food on the table and looked at her.

“Can I interest you in some egg rolls?” he asked and she shook her head. “Right, you’ve just come from lunch.” He stared at her and she took a deep breath.

“I should get going. Let you eat.”

“It’s Chinese food, it’ll keep. Always better cold anyway.”

“So you always say.” He smiled and she let out a breath. “I just felt so disconnected from them.” He nodded she shook her head. “It’s been so long since I’ve done anything with Ellen, or anyone really, I felt out of place.”

“Hmm,” he hummed with another nod.

“I don’t want to talk about what happened to me. I don’t remember it. Or… maybe I do but I don’t want to… I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it…”

“But you want them to know.” She looked up at him and let out a deep breath.

“Yes and no. It just felt mundane talking about kids and husbands who golf too much while I…” She shrugged and he nodded.

“Believe me, I understand.”

“I know you do.” She smiled and he nodded. “I don’t want to constantly have it on my mind, but how can I not?”

“Have you had any nightmares?” he asked quietly and she shook her head. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.” She shrugged and sighed. “Especially since I no longer have anyone around to bore me back to sleep.”

“Hmm.” He chuckled softly with a nod and she smiled.

“I should go. Let you eat.”

“You could stay. Just me here… it gets kinda quiet.”

“No, I should go.” He nodded and she sighed, walking towards the door, wanting  to stay but knowing it was best if she left.

“Sure I can’t tempt you with some egg rolls?”

“Maybe next time.” She looked back at him, her hand on the doorknob. “Oh, my mother has extended an invitation for you to join us for dinner on Christmas Eve.” He stared at her and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Why?” he asked after a few seconds.

“Because it’s Christmas and she’s Maggie Scully.” She smiled and he shook his head.

“I don’t think I should. It’s a year since your father died and I… it should just be family.” An odd look crossed his face that she could not decipher, before he sighed and closed his eyes. “What time?”

“Oh… that was easier than I thought it would be,” she said in surprise.

“Yeah, well…” He shrugged and she nodded.

“7:30 at my mom’s house. I’ll write down the directions-” She started to step towards him, but he stopped her with a shake of his head.

“I know how to get there,” he said quietly and she froze. Of course he did. How many trips had he made during her absence?

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you then,” she whispered and he nodded, unable to meet her eyes.

She walked out and heard the lock clicking as she walked down the hall. As she stepped in the elevator, she suddenly felt like weeping. Covering her mouth, the doors thankfully closed before the sound of her sobs could echo down the hall.

_____________________

After that meeting, they did not speak nor see each other again. Scully spent the next few days buying and wrapping gifts, relaxing, and not thinking about her abduction.

Or at least trying not to do so.

She had a few nightmares, waking up shaking and wanting to call him, but knowing she could not. He would accept her phone call, doing whatever she asked, but she could not continue to rely on him that way; she had to do it on her own.

On Christmas Eve, she put on a new dress, put her hair up and added a pair of pearl earrings her father had given her when she graduated from college. A small spritz of perfume and she looked at her reflection, checking that she was ready. Touching her earrings, she sighed.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered and left the bathroom.

The drive over to her mother’s was spent in silence, thinking about her father and how much she missed him. Missed the way he would tell a joke and laugh before he even got to the punchline. His no nonsense attitude, but the smile that came behind it. The strict rules he adhered to, which helped shape and mold the person she had become.

“I miss you, Dad,” she said softly, turning down her mother’s street.

The house was lit up, a tree in the window, the white lights shining brightly. As she walked up to the door, she wondered who had decorated outside, it looked professional.

“Dana! Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you.” Her mother held her tightly, Scully hugging her back, taking a deep breath. It smelled of spices and she closed her eyes at the familiar Christmas scent. “You’re early.”

“I thought I’d see if you needed any help.” Her mother pulled back, holding onto her upper arms as she nodded.

Half an hour later, everything was ready and people began to arrive. There were a few people from church there, people her father had held in high esteem. Charlie came in to cheers and applause. He grinned and hugged them all as Missy walked in, a serene smile on her face.

As happy as she was to see them all, Scully kept an eye on the door, wondering when Mulder would arrive, wanting to be there when he did. She did not want him to be accosted and forced to make small talk.

“He’s running a little late.”

“What?” Scully asked, looking at her mother with a frown.

“Fox. He said he would be a few minutes late.”

“When did he tell you that?” She looked at her mother, confusion on her face.

“He called earlier today and said he would be running late as he had an errand to run.”

“He called you? He has your num-“ But of course he did. Why was she surprised?

“He’ll be here.” Her mother patted her arm and smiled as she walked away.

“Yeah, Dana. He’ll be here,” Missy teased, handing Scully a tumbler glass of whiskey. They clinked their glasses and she tried not to watch the door, not wanting to hear her sister’s gloating tone.

At almost 8:00, the doorbell rang and her mother walked over to answer it. Scully heard Mulder’s low murmur and her mother’s soft laugh, and then he was in the room, his eyes finding hers immediately.

Her stomach did a flip flop and she shook her head, walking over to him as she mentally rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness.

“Hey. Sorry I was late. I was…” He stopped, looking her up and down. “Wow… you look…”

“Hello, Fox. Sorry... Mulder.” Missy said and they both turned to look at her.

“Melissa. It’s nice to see you again.” He cleared his throat and Missy looked at Scully, raising her eyebrows.

“Would you like a drink?” Missy asked and he shook his head.

“No, I’m fine.” He looked at Scully as Missy walked away. She smiled at him and he did the same. “Sorry I was late.”

“It’s okay.” Without thinking, she reached up and smoothed his tie, the knot slightly askew. When she realized what she was doing, she dropped her hand, her cheeks burning.

“Thanks,” he said softly, touching his tie and she nodded. “What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey. You want some?” She offered her glass and he took it, taking a sip. He made a face and handed it back to her.

“No. That’s godawful. Aack.” She laughed as she took a sip, having no such reaction.

“Beautiful,” he said quietly and she frowned. “I was going to say ‘beautiful.’” She continued to frown until she drew in a deep breath and let it out as she understood what he meant.

“It’s a new dress.” She shrugged, as though implying that was all it was, her mouth feeling dry as her heart began to race.

“Mm-hmm.” He nodded as her mother called everyone to dinner. He gestured for her to go first, his hand landing on the small of her back as she did, his fingers pressing gently and then disappearing.

The meal was delicious, with a toast to her father given which caused nearly everyone to tear up. Missy sniffled beside her and Scully reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.

After they ate, people sat around the table, talking about their families, friends, and plans for the new year. Mulder poured some wine into his glass and pushed it toward Scully, his arm going around and resting on the back of her chair.

As the talk turned to what had happened during the past year, Scully felt his thumb rub softly against her back, nearly imperceptible. She did not even notice how her breathing had increased until she felt his touch. Glancing at him, he kept his eyes on the person speaking, not looking her way.

Never had she been more grateful to have someone like him beside her. Someone who understood how it felt to be an outsider, while others around you carried on without a care.

His right hand was on the table and as she reached for the glass of wine, she ghosted her fingertips across his, silently thanking him. His thumb increased its pressure on her back for a second and then his touch was gone, though his arm remained on the chair.

When they moved into the living room, gifts were handed out to everyone, even Mulder, who seemed genuinely surprised by it. He held it in his lap, not opening it as everyone laughed and ripped off the ribbons and colorful paper.

“I didn’t bring a gift for everyone,” he whispered beside her and she smiled, laying the red ribbon on the sofa.

“Nor did you have to,” she said, looking at him. “My mother is my mother. This is how she says thank you. Open your gift.”

“Thank you for what?” he asked, looking down at the present lying on his lap. She said nothing and he raised his head, staring into her eyes. Neither of them said anything, but she knew he understood when he nodded, his hand brushing her knee in the pretense of moving the ribbon, and she shivered.

Laughter and thanks filled the air, people holding up their gifts for the others to see. Her mother smiled, her eyes sparkling with tears as she nodded, accepting their thanks.

Scully watched Mulder open his gift and smiled when she saw a tie and a pair of gloves. He took them out and tried them on, humming his appreciation.

“That’s the nicest looking tie you own,” she teased and he smiled with a nod, setting down the gloves and picking up the tie.

“I think you may be right.”

“Oh, I know I am.” He laughed and looked at her as she smiled.

“Do they fit alright?” Her mother stood by the sofa, smiling nervously, pointing at the gloves.

“They do, thank you, Mrs. Scully. I fear my gift wasn’t quite up to scratch.”

“No, Fox. It was perfect.” She rubbed his shoulder and walked away to speak to Charlie.

“What did you give her? I didn’t see her open anything.” He smiled and said nothing. “Mulder?”

“I gave her a Christmas Cactus. They don’t only bloom at Christmas, but I thought…. for your father and… you…” He shrugged, his leg bouncing. “I tried to find one but couldn’t until today. That’s why I was late, I found a nursery that would stay open, but it was farther than I had planned.” He shrugged and she stared at him.

“Mulder…” He looked at her and she sighed, not sure how to say what she was feeling. Nodding, he put the tie back in the box and glanced at her again. She smiled and found his hand, squeezing and letting go.

When he left, she walked with him to his car, shivering in the cold night air, despite the warmth of her coat.

“Well, I had a good time,” he stated, as though surprised, as he set his gift in the car and turned to look at her.

“Surprising, I know, considering there were no aliens or volcanic life forms.” He smiled as she raised her eyebrows and put her hands in her pockets.

“Not what I meant, but…”

“What did you mean? What were you expecting to happen?”

“Nothing to happen, per se, it’s just… I’m not family, nor exactly friendly with anyone, save you, and with your father’s anniversary, it just didn’t feel right.” He shrugged and she tilted her head, digesting his words.

“But you’re here and you agreed to be rather quickly when I asked you. You never really explained why.” He sighed and looked at the house, rubbing a hand across his mouth.

“Because of your mother.”

“How do you mean?” she asked, curious to hear his answer.

“I could say because I like her, she’s a kind person, but…”

“What?” He sighed again and put his hands in his pockets.

“When you were in the hospital, after you’d been… returned,” he said, closing his eyes. “The doctor told your mother and I about your living will, which I already knew about but never expected to have to think about so soon. When you fell below the criteria… the hospital had to abide by your decisions.”

Tears filled her eyes, imagining her mother in that situation and how she must have felt, but knowing her decisions had been right.

“It’s better to be prepared and have a plan, instead of forcing a family member to be the one to do it. To lay that guilt upon them.”

“And I agreed with you when I signed as your witness,” he said, opening his eyes. “I still feel the same way, but… seeing it in black and white and written down on paper, is different than experiencing it as you were lying there in a coma.” She nodded, wiping her cheeks, her tears warm, but cheeks cold.

“When they were walking out of the room to begin removing you from the respirator and the other life saving devices, your mother said you and I had a friendship built on respect and that while the moment was for family, I could join them if I wanted.”

He stared at her and she began to cry, unable to hold back the tears, as she understood what had made him agree to join them for dinner tonight. He stepped forward and pulled her close, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist, burying her face in his coat. Holding her as she cried, he murmured softly, his hands rubbing slowly up and down her back.

Pulling from him, she wiped her face, taking deep breaths as she did, trying to regain calm. She looked up at him and he smiled softly, his eyes searching her face, nodding as he seemed to receive the answer he was seeking.

A snowflake suddenly landed in his hair and she looked up as more began to fall. She laughed as she met his eyes again., watching the snow falling onto him, his hair filling with white flakes.

“I think you’d better get inside before you become a snowman… snow woman? Lady?” He furrowed his brow and she laughed.

But then her breath caught when, just as he had last year, he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a snowflake. His hand was warm, his touch soft and gentle.

“Merry Christmas, Dana,” he whispered, and she closed her eyes briefly, his thumb stroking her cheekbone and moving down to her chin, his fingers on her neck.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder,” she whispered back, opening her eyes and staring at him. His eyes dropped to her lips and her heart fluttered, her hands coming up to his chest, almost of their own accord.

He began to lean in closer, when loud laughter erupted from her mother’s open door and echoed in the quiet of the night. Her hands dropped down as she pushed off of his chest, his hand moving from her cheek. He cleared his throat as the people leaving the party exclaimed over the falling snow.

“Well…” he said, stepping back and dropping his eyes.

“Be careful driving home,” she said and he nodded, raising his eyes to hers. She smiled with a nod and he let out a breath.

“You get inside, snow woman. It’s starting to come down harder. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” He held her gaze and she heard the words he was not saying.

“Okay.” She stepped back and made to walk toward the house when she turned around and stepped closer to him.

Reaching up on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek, the cold of the snowflakes falling contrasting with the warmth of his skin.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder,” she whispered again as she pulled back. He nodded with a small smile and she smiled back.

“Get in where it’s warm. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” She nodded and walked to the porch, turning around to watch him leave.

Waving goodbye, she stepped inside the house, hung up her coat, and went into the bathroom.

Fixing her hair, she smiled at the pink in her cheeks, knowing it was not only from the chill of the night.

No, it was from the man who chased monsters, believed in aliens, saw conspiracies in nearly everything, and had earned family status as a result of the care and devotion he had shown to her and her mother during her absence.

The one who, despite her very best efforts, had taken up residence in her heart and would be impossible to evict.

Not without taking part of her heart away with him.

[stopeatingwhales]

talk tonight x noel gallagher

i’m back with another noel fic ;) i know the meaning behind the song is completely different to how this story is presenting it, but i’m changing it up so it can fit the storyline. i don’t know why i always write so much for noel BUT he deserves it <3

Paring: 90s noel gallagher x reader

Warnings: its just really fucking soft okay

Word count: 3.809

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

“Stop writing so many mopey songs!” Liam yelled, tossing the now wrinkled piece of paper at his brother, containing heartfelt lyrics to another one of Noel’s melancholic masterpieces. “We’re not a sad band, for fucks sakes!” 

Sighing, Noel looked away from his sibling’s frustrated stares. Taking a hold of the paper, he unfolded it slowly, attempting to stretch out its unfortunate bruises: formed when gripped firmly in Liam’s palm as he skim read it atrociously. His eyes trailed from the top, all the way to the bottom of the page, examining the lyrics that messily peppered the sheet. He had spent hours, days, relentlessly trying to get the words right; it seemingly sounded better in his head rather than on the paper, his heartfelt remorse towards the amounts of paper he used - and eventually binned - ghosting his mind as he stared at the title of the song. Talk Tonight. 

Usually, he would be skilfully speedy with writing such anthems, yet, with this song, he felt it contained more of him than anything else did - his bare heart, unexpectedly torn out of its ligaments, dusted on a random chopping board, framed for the entire world to see. The public would have no idea who it was about and why he had written it, but knowing the obsessive fans that queued for hours just to buy a 7” single, crammed gigantic concert halls, chanted back memorable lyrics, which were either written hurriedly, wanting to complete the song or were age old melodies, well thought out in his childhood bedroom - accompanied by Liam’s occasional interrupting with his rowdy complaints about their mother not allowing him to go out and mess around with his friends at the time. His fans may either be oblivious as to the meanings of the song, or they may be able to depict it as adroitly as a neurosurgeon figuring out the exact muscle which broke apart the spine. You never knew. 

Noel stayed silent, not replying to Liam, leaving the standing sibling puzzled by his distanced expression. Expectedly, he assumed Noel would answer him, perhaps with a scolding, reminding him that he doesn’t write the songs, and that Noel’s the mastermind of it all, to which Liam would throw a hissy fit, storming out of the room in anger towards his repetitive comeback. Nevertheless, all that sounded in the room was a light hiss of wind escaping from the outdoors, seemingly into the small crack of the slightly opened window; you couldn’t tell whether it was shut or open. The fresh seeping air felt like it was intruder, like a fox deciding it was their place to rummage through your neighbours’ bins for a midnight snack, and after not managing to find anything, leaving all the bin bags ripped open, the trash every place imaginable in the adjacent front yard. “Noel?” Liam spoke, walking up to where his brother was sat, eventually inviting himself to sit next to him.

Liam’s words snapped Noel out of his ponder over what seemed to be anything imaginable. Blinking a couple times, he rubbed his right eye irritatingly, finally responding to his awaiting brother. “What?” he asked, folding up the paper once again, hiding it from Liam, as if he hadn’t already seen it previously. There was an element of secrecy in this song, something he found himself afraid to admit, even to the closest person to him. 

Taking note of this, Liam slowly gained an idea of the reasoning behind his aloof body language. “Who’s it about?” he questioned, snatching the piece of paper out of his sibling’s grip, once again. As he opened the fold, he noticed Noel’s tense body again from the abrupt clutch of his work. He re-read the roughly written lyrics - some endings of the words resulted in being smudged due to the pen his brother was using - this time seeing the lines in a completely different light. Noel was calling out for someone, a hint of plead, offhand desperation, a simple crave for attention, all effortlessly foreshadowed in his words. This wasn’t an ordinary song; this was about someone, someone close to him. 

“Who’s it about?” he repeated, his tone on the stretch between rough and soft, like a baby’s screeching, features soft yet voice ever so repulsive. Noel’s dry, lifeless responses began to agitate him, though he tried to hide it, his eyes trailing off to study the older brother’s distinctive features in a midst of the silence, always taking interest into his sibling’s prescence. He took note of his messily arranged mop hair-do, decorated lightly with significant stands sticking out freely; it was obvious that his attention being undivided towards his meaningful lyrics made him feel that he had no need to do himself for anyone else, along with the curved bridge of his nose, morphed in a delicate overlay of skin, a unique microcosm to who he really was. Both Gallagher brothers were pictured in the magazines as loud, condescending, boisterous teenagers from a poor, working class background, each one oblivious to the understanding of how to control (and handle) the spotlight - yet always wanted it to be on them. However, the way the world pictured Noel wasn’t fully correct: yes, there were times he was off of his head, drugged up in all sorts of class A drugs he seemingly was able to purchase from the insane sales their debut album, Definitely Maybe, had scored. Regardless, the world saw Noel as the twin of Liam: the same, when without a doubt both carried such idiosyncratic differences.

Once again, Noel kept quiet, engrossed between his many thoughts and ideations, not knowing whether to answer Liam or keep his silence. Noel felt the strong stare of his sibling being emitted onto his flesh, drawing himself two options: telling Liam and having him shut up about it, although he knew he wouldn’t, or keep his brother asking the same questions, his curiosity - and aggravation - increasing every millisecond as his quietness progressed on. “Is it someone I know?” the sibling asked, causing Noel to swivel his head instantly - locking eyes with him in surprise. Yes, Liam, it is. 

Liam was quick to catch Noel's startled expression, immediately thinking of all the girls they had been friends with, or had been working with them within the past year. They didn’t have many girl-friends; when you’re front page on practically every entertainment article about how loud and tatty you usually were tended to result in hatred by the mass population of women. Regardless, there were enough girls to be friendly with; when you’re drunk in a pub at three in the morning searching for a passionate night with someone, it’s less likely you’re going to keep your eye out to not sleep with someone as attractive as the Gallaghers. “Is it Matilda?” 

“No,”

“Evelyn?”

“No,”

“Nicole?”

“No! It’s Y/N!” Noel yelled, agitated by his brother's bombarded neediness to know.

“So not Nicole?” 

“No,” he repeated, his mind beginning to despise the word after the countless amounts of it rushing off his tongue in the mass of a few seconds.

“Good, because I like Nicole,” Liam mumbled, gazing straight at the window, intently listening to the quiet sound of cars driving by on the road beside them. 

Shocked, the older brother bunched his eyebrows together and squinted his eyes. “You have Patsy, Liam,”

“Yeah, but,” the younger brother began, before being caught in realisation. “Wait, Y/N?” 

Sighing, Noel came to a conclusion that there was no way of escaping the situation. “Yes, her,” he replied, taking the song out of Liam’s palms. He had stared blankly at the sheet hundreds of times, lost in a dream, yet each time he felt as if he was reading it for the first. Every time his eyes laid upon the first few lines, his heart felt as if it was a balloon being punctured with a toothpick on accident, cascading out of a little child’s hand in the middle of the sidewalk, flying onto the road making it unable to get a hold of it again. The kid cries, but the mother tells him to get over it, you’ll get another soon, she says. Noel rarely spoke to Y/N, and when he did, he either stuttered or was too drunk to finish a sentence. She made his heart flutter, in the most endearing ways, receiving a small smile from the girl brightened his day to the fullest. Sometimes he wondered if he was in love with her, love at first sight when they first locked eyes in the recording studio, the band’s manager introducing them to the band as the recording assistant. She was the prettiest girl he had ever laid eyes upon.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Liam asked, wrapping an arm around Noel. “Or even, why haven’t you gone out with the girl yet? She’s single ain’t she?” 

Noel nodded his head, staring down at his fingers as they cradled the sheet cautiously, hoping not to rip it in the slightest. “I was thinking of showing the song to her, since I have no fuckin’ clue how I’m supposed to tell her how I feel,” he added, pulling his hand up to chew on his nails - out of nervousness of the idea of presenting such a heart-wrenching song to her. 

“Tell her tomorrow, show her the song after recording,” Liam suggested, slipping his top lip into his mouth, wondering what was battling his brother’s thoughts. He had never seen his brother so naive to how to talk to a girl, tell her he wants to go out for a drink with her, enjoy each other’s company as friends, not co-workers, for once. It was like the entire topic was something so new to the sibling - not even his brother could aid him with directions over what to do, exactly presenting a child the quadratic form, they would never be able to understand it. 

A few long, impatient seconds whistled by in the room - the ambience tense yet soft, bubbled to the brim with thought. Liam didn’t want to say anything else, knowing his brother wouldn’t answer; he wanted to wait for a well thought out response, one that would make sense - unlike receiving flat-out no’s, which brought both boys off guard over the repetitiveness. “You think it's good enough?” Noel questioned, locking eyes with the opposing brother once again. Funnily enough, he knew the exact answer he was going to receive; he could hear it in the room, bouncing off of the walls, the exact words rolling off of Liam’s tongue. He knew him so well, he didn’t need a conformation of words as they fell off of his lips.  

“Go for it,”

~~~

After another strenuous day of recording, bickering, and a sporadic storming out by the lead singer, they somehow managed to record two songs: Acquiesce and Headshrinker, both songs to be included in their first single release, Some Might Say, for their upcoming album. There was high anticipation for this forthcoming LP - tabloids had the topic stained on their lips, the matter embossed in their heads, it being the only thing they were able to talk about with a such excitement, almost exactly like the buzz the band received with their first album, due to it becoming the fastest selling debut LP in the UK charts. Everyone was shocked by their sudden appearance, and along with their rugged up, tough looks, you couldn’t take your eyes off of them. Unsurprisingly, the air in the room was filled with up to the brim in fog - all from the hundreds of joints that were scruffily wrapped up and burnt, all up to its butt to be chucked away in the dustbins. There were ashtrays decorated all around the room; some practically overflowing in dust, others merely sprinkled in ash it could almost present as unused and clean. Time felt distant; with the clock itching to strike hour 5, the atmosphere was left fussy, all five boys drained entirely from the ridiculous amounts of re-recordings they had to do, along with Guigsy being especially annoyed by a decision their label had made for an upcoming gig they seemingly had to start planning for. Bollocks, he shouts, slouching down in his seat, as Bonehead scoffs at his continuous childlike behaviour.

“Right well, I’m out,” Liam yells, his eyes immediately drifting onto Noel. Giving his sibling a nod, he grabs hold of his spliff again, his fingers softly entwining with the roughened fabric, inhaling sharply before exhaling out its poignant contents in front of Y/N’s face. “Bye, Y/N,” he adds, turning his head away and swaying out the door - trying to present a cool-like physique. The rest of the boys follow, except Noel. She laughs at him, whispering a short bye before carrying on with her previous activities. The boys were planning on going to the nearest bar to  hang out, we deserve it after all our hard work and dedication to this shitting album, Liam would always repeat. Not like their lives aren’t situated with cigarettes, bars and alcohol practically everyday. I want to find a bird to sleep with. You have Patsy! Oh, yeah.  

After everyone had left, it was only Noel and Y/N left in the space. Noel was sat in the recording room, playing around with the strings on one of his many Gibson’s, his fingers lightly tapping on the metal cords, attempting to settle another melody for another upcoming song he had thought about. He was always like this. He was the definition of the I’ll-see-you-guys-there type; he constantly had something to do beforehand. He carried such a creative mind, you never wanted to interrupt him when he was left in his element, you knew he was going to create something amazing - he always did. Y/N currently had her headphones on, her head slowly bopping to the sounds of the music she was playing as her eyes were focused on the controls. Every few seconds she would mess around with the controls, either boosting the bass or lowering the sound of the guitars, continuously finding something fun to do with the tunes. As the song she was listening to had come to a close, she clapped lightly to herself, accompanied with a wide grin plastering on her face. Listening to music was her favourite thing in the world to do; it repeatedly gained her such emotional satisfaction you’d envy it from afar. 

His eyes drifted onto stare at Y/N. Every time he laid her eyes on her, he was perpetually enthralled. Enthralled by her presence, enthralled by how much dedication she can hold to one small, simple thing - she never seemed to get tired by anything, even by his younger brother’s whiney behaviour. She was most certainly the best one to speak to him whenever he was pissed, agitated or refusing to do as everyone was telling him to: whether it be because of an argument he had in the midst of recording about how the lyrics sounded, resulting in him storming out, or about a petty comment that was slipped out of their managers’ lips about how hard they are to work with, she consistently knew what to do. Her voice always held this calming tone, almost like she could never shout, get mad, even if she tried to. What made Noel inspired for his songs wasn’t the same, rapid rush of exhilaration that he’d gain as he was nearing finishing the song; it was the Oasis in her eyes that motivated him. She saw them as this power, this light that no one was able to obtain, Noel being the only one able to unlock the true colours behind it. The mastermind. Whatever she said, whatever followed off her tongue professedly felt like it came straight out of a book - no matter what conversation was occurring. Her words would repeat in his head until they became engraved and cherished, saved for another moment to remember.  It would never leave his mind. He was constantly captivated by her, in the most desiring ways.

“What are you doing?” Noel asked, attempting to hold a conversation. His fingers were still messing around with the cords, this time his other arm resting on his lap instead of situated on the neck of the guitar. He watched her head lift up, switching her gaze from the controls to instantly lock eyes with Noel, a bright smile now glued onto her face. 

“Just having a bit of a play with the controls,” she grinned. “And you, mister Noel?” 

Laughing lightly at the tiny nickname he had received from her, his heart warmed by her blissful aura of everything he had wanted to see in a girl. She always carried optimism wherever she went, consistently held her head up high. “Figuring out something for a song,” he mumbled to her, to which she nodded her head slowly in reply, her eyes now staring at the guitar placed on his lap. Her eyes kept switching from to the nape of the instrument straight to its body, practically analysing everything that was on it. This carried on for a few seconds, the air mute until Noel decided to speak up with something he was anxious about bringing up. “I wanted to show you something,”

Building up enough courage, Noel placed his electric guitar on the stand next him, exiting the crammed recording room to quickly enter the lounging space. Y/N’s eyes never left his body; her curiosity stretched out in the masses towards the lanky boy’s withdrawn approach, striking her attention right away. The entire time he avoided locking eyes with her, trotting into the space quickly as he went to grab a random acoustic thrown on one of the couches in the room, knowing his nerves would reach a breaking point soon enough, for even thinking of creating contact with her enticing, sunlit orbs, filled with an itch of interest and consistent undivided attention, would cause him to shrivel back into the young Mancunian boy he once was, before stuttering slightly and rushing out of the room - danced in embarrassment. He had never come across a girl who was able to strike him in such a way his nervous system was at a risk of collapsing, the only songs he was able to write about people tended to either be his brother, or situations with friends - for it was never a girl, he was never like that. 

Snatching the previous seat of the acoustic that was cradled in his arms, Noel pulled the instrument closely to his body - the wooden material now in contact with his clothed chest. Inhaling the air as if it were a spliff coiled with weed, he took deep breaths, counting down from the number five before speaking up again. “This one’s called Talk Tonight,” he echoed, before his fingers - as if magically casted a spell - automatically shifted places on the fretboard, beginning to strum the solemn notes, beautified with adoration. At this point, Y/N’s chair was completely swivelled, her gaze fixated exactly on Noel, her heart agape as she marvelled at the boy merely inches in front of her. The heavy strums were the only thing sounding in the room, settling on a peaceful, luscious tone, containing powers to set you in a stupor of harmony, reconciliation, sending you straight to sleep in just a few seconds. It had power to heal you, like an antidote adorning your skin, the pain at first making your face scrunch up in distress, then relaxing after a short while, pleasure washing over your veins to realise you were finally healed. 

Once Noel began singing, he became a different person. His nerves were long gone - escaped from his mind, for all tension was now released from his body as his fingers swept across the strings freely. Without even looking at Noel, it was clear that the piece he was performing meant a lot to him, his vocal chords perfecting the notes in hilarity, infatuated by the idea that he was truly presenting it, in real life, to the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about for days on end.  He was singing it like he had nothing left to lose, for he was unmasking a side to him he never dared to even think of letting escape; it all his thoughts, his feelings, pouring out in a short 3-minute song, pacified with emotion - it was impossible not to feel an attachment to the music. As he was nearing the last couple lines of the song, he lifted his stare from his instrument, looking to see if Y/N was watching him, and to his surprise, he was instantly met with her gaping at him. Their eyes were glued to one another’s, almost like they were afraid to blink, or do something to prevent not sharing the moment with each other - even if that meant having your eyes burn out of dehydration. 

“I wanna talk tonight, Until the morning light, ‘Bout how you saved my life, I wanna talk tonight.”                                                                                         

After the song ended, there was immediate clapping from Y/N. It was the same, quiet clapping she bestowed earlier when she had finished listening to one of their demos by the control centre, but this time for Noel, and only him. “Was that for me?” she asked, her grin blaring out in her words. She knew it was, all from the beginning with his awkward walking to grab the guitar, yet she still asked anyways. Noel didn’t answer, looking away to stare at his free hand stroking the couch nimbly. He didn’t know what to say, slightly embarrassed yet glad he finally accomplished what he was trying to muster out for months. At first it was a quickened heartbeat as she walked past him, him being all flushed out with a simple doing, to not even knowing what to say when she asked him a question about his guitar riff he performed, to which he’d turn to look at Bonehead, asking him to reply a question he didn’t know the answer to. “Because if that’s the case, I feel the same way,” she added, knowing Noel’s head would turn almost immediately. And it did. He was met with her lips, brushing against his teasingly, their noses colliding together, on the verge of morphing into each other. He felt that he had finally found the one person who understood him best among anyone he knew; he felt as if she knew him more than he knew himself, without even communicating. It was a feeling so scarce and infrequent, he finally understood life for what it really was, for he would prefer dying in that exact moment than pulling away, having to endure the ache of realisation: realisation he would never have a moment so perfect ever again.