#staring into the middle distance thinking about s2

[cerisemerald]

One and only — Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: She has been loving Thomas for a while now, and it is heaving on her the fact she thinks he still is in love with Grace — she needs a confession, a affirmation that she is not just filling in a gap. It comes in a unexpected night, followed by an unusual morning, but everything with Thomas was like that.

MUSIC: One and only by Adele

A/N: this is the second fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it) and it was from one of my celebrations (200 followers I think) that consisted of fanfics inspired by Adele’s songs from the album 21, this one was requested by a dear friend and it is very dear to me!! It happens between s1-s2, Thomas meets (Y/N) after grace leaves. Feedback is always welcomed!

WARNINGS: English is not my first language.

WORD COUNT: 5,477

[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD]

(divider credit is for @cafekitsune)

“Thomas,” she calls, staring at his back, but he doesn't answer, he continues to look at the field in front of them instead. “Thomas?”

“Hm?” He still doesn't look at her.

(Y/N) decides to finally walk to him, she does not stop in front of him though, sensing something was wrong and not wanting to disturb or annoy him somehow. She stops right behind Thomas, a step of distance between them, from this close she can see the tension in his shoulders better, and as much as she wishes to touch him and try to tranquillise him, she waits. He doesn't do anything, however, not even looks at her, and she sighs.

She looks at the field, too, trying to understand what is possibly happening in his head. But she has a strong guess, one she does not like at all. (Y/N) hates when Thomas lives more in his past than in his present life, for her, it was his biggest flaw; the way he was constantly living for memories and not for life itself. And she feels that now he is probably thinking about what happened two years ago, Grace.

(Y/N) does not care he is thinking of her, that she can understand, after all he did fall in love with her, it would not be easy, especially for Thomas who protected himself with so many walls, to forget the woman. She doesn't expect him to just stop thinking about Grace overnight, but it did hurt, sometimes, how it felt, as if she was living in the shadows of someone bigger than her. It had been Grace's mistake, but she was the one paying for it, paying for the mistakes of a woman she hadn't even met.

She also knew, of course, that it would take Thomas time to trust again, to open himself like he had before. She knew everything that revolved around a broken heart, she did, but knowing did not make anything easier to deal with. It was still hard to face Tommy and see how, even in his most present moments, a piece of him was lost. Sometimes, she would ask herself why she even stayed, when it seemed like Thomas would never love her the same way. But she did, returned to him every single time, hope, maybe, tying her to him.

“Tom, why’d you bring me here?”

Thomas had showed up in her house last night, surprising (Y/N) in the middle of the week. It was not how their encounters usually went, Thomas would see her mostly on weekends. Sometimes he would spend the night, sleep with her to leave only on Sunday morning, sometimes stay up until four pm, these nights they would dance in her kitchen while drinking whiskey. It was all simple, but what mattered was that they talked, that they would sit down to talk and would sooth each other. Everything between them was simple, even love, when it came to their realisations that they were in love. There hadn't been a confession, not from her nor from him, they had just looked at each other differently, held each other for longer, kissed with more passion than ever, and that was enough to understand.

But yesterday was very different. She could not understand what was happening, neither read it on his face. As soon as she opened the door, he was tense, eyes haunted — not like tiredness from work or exhaustion because of all his problems, but as if he had just heard terrible news and saw his world crumbling. When she greeted him with a kiss, he had not held her waist or face, and had returned the kiss distantly. Still, she breathed and let him in, hoping that she might help somehow. He didn't talk much, short answers only, but it was like he needed the attention, needed her to listen to him, so she did. After sometime, she had run out of ideas to console him and offered for them to share a meal together, and for the first time since they had known each other, he ate something. Almost unnerving, but she was so relieved that she chose to see that as a good sign. After that, Thomas just sat in silence while she cleaned the plates.

When (Y/N) finished, she turned around to see he was sitting still at the table, eyes closed, breathing like he was trying to control himself. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to hold back tears or a scream, whatever it was, it was consuming him, drowning him in anguish. (Y/N) moved slowly, getting closer to him and delicately grabbing his hand. Then she whispered his name like a secret, like she was afraid of being caught saying that, because, in truth, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Tommy to hear it or not.

But Thomas did, and he squeezed her hand like his life depended on it, returning the touch with such a force it took her aback. It was not like he never touched her, or that he didn’t show any sign of affection such as holding her hand, but that touch was different. It was acid, burning (Y/N)'s skin in seconds and leaving a million scars behind. Thomas touched her like she was the only one capable of saving him.

It was scary. It was exhilarating. It was a breath of heaven’s pure oxygen. It was suffocating as the smoke on a fire. And it was only a touch of hand.

But it said so many things, it said that he wanted her there, that he actually needed her there. And she was happy with being wanted, but being needed was something she could not even describe, it was overwhelming. It took (Y/N)’s breath away. It made her forget everything else she needed to do, because Thomas was there, all of him, in her kitchen, holding her hand and asking her to be there for him.

With care, she walked until she was behind him, her arms adjusting perfectly in his neck, allowing his head to find a rest in her belly, it was not often Thomas would let her be the one embracing him. Usually, he would be more vulnerable after they would have an entire night together, and he would lay down between her legs and relax on her chest while she caressed him. (Y/N) started to caress his hair, gently as she could, and she noticed that with time, Thomas was melting to her touch, a small smile grew on her lips, but she kept quiet. It was the first time she felt like she could have every single piece of him with her. He sighed as she took some strands of his face, inclining his head even more.

Thomas opened his eyes suddenly, and because of his moving, they were now staring right at each other. Her heart sank with what she could see, his eyes were dark and tired, hurt. Still, she didn't say anything, knowing it had to be him the one to initiate any type of conversation about what was happening, she only kept caressing his hair. After some seconds, he reached for her left hand and kissed it, making her smile again, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she understood that it was his way of saying thank you. And, in a way, showing that he liked being near her like that. Although he seemed more calm, it didn't look like he would talk, and it was obvious how tired he was, so instead of asking anything, (Y/N) offered for them to sleep. He nodded, and they were quick to go to bed, a simple, but genuine kiss as a good night.

In the morning, he had all of a sudden woken her up with kisses on her neck — like last night hadn’t been so different, saying he wanted to take her somewhere. And yet, even though it was his idea to bring her, he hadn’t spoken since they got in here.

“I haven't come here in a long time.” He finally says something, making (Y/N) stare at him again. “My father…” Thomas takes a time to complete his sentence, “my father used to bring us here, sometimes, I hunted with him one day.”

“Hunted what?”

“A deer,” Thomas smirks, finally directing his look at her.

“You still didn’t answer me.” Thomas smirks only grows bigger at her words. “Why did you bring me here, Thomas?”

He keeps staring at her, she can’t tell everything he is thinking, but that he wants to say something and the words are hard to say, she is sure.

“I don’t know.” He confesses, and (Y/N) could have believed it if it wasn't for the hint of doubt in his tone, as if he didn't want to tell all the truth, but at the same time, didn't know all of it too.

She breathes deeply, she is trying really hard to understand him, she has been for quite some time, but he never truly gives her the chance. “It's that so?”

Thomas and her stare at each other for long seconds, it's not a battle this time, it's not her trying to reach him and him running away, (Y/N) feels as if she is already inside, but can't see what it is, and how could she? When he showed nothing before. She is not sure how to navigate this, what to search, what to ask, not this time, and that scares and frustrates her in equal amounts.

Thomas has these eyes that always make her feel naked, confused and alive. He sometimes looks at her like she is precious, like he cannot go a second without touching her, and she believes it, because his eyes are true, raw even. And then, he could look at her the way he is doing now, like she has just stabbed him, as if she has his heart in her hands to do whatever she wanted, and she decided to make him suffer. It wasn’t true, and it wasn’t fair, she didn’t have him like that, so why would he stare at her with all that devotion and agony?

She chuckles, lowly and dryly, and starts to walk, leaving him behind. (Y/N) doesn't know exactly what she is feeling at the moment, but everything is a little too much. She doesn't want to have to guess, it would be nice, for once, if he could finally say it out loud.

Stopping a few steps away from him, she finally takes a better look at everything in front of her, how beautiful that field is, how breathtaking the view of the sky is with no pollution from the city. The sun hadn’t completely risen yet, some shades of purple, pink, and orange decorated the sky. It looks just like a painting, she thinks, and it hurts a bit to realise that it would be a pretty day to feel good, for her and Tommy to be doing something enjoyable.

What bothers most is that it feels like there is just one last wall between them, and she had thought she would finally have him — but it's not simple, it never is. Thomas has to be the one to take that last step, he has to be the one to, at last, face what he is feeling. If she is the one to do it, to once again try to put pieces together to understand him, it will never change, he will only come home broken and expects mending. She wants more than that, she wants genuine words being said, wants to feel more than… a fragment.

She was afraid sometimes, what if the problem was not his past love, but her? Understanding that old feelings were hard to get rid of was easy, but to which point was Thomas protecting himself from any new feelings? Did it ever become a protection against her? (Y/N) would ask herself, what was he so afraid of? Afraid of having feelings for someone again? Or was he just afraid of… her? It scared her that maybe it wasn’t love and it’s disappointments that kept them apart, maybe it was her. And that she couldn’t fix.

She kicks some rocks by her feet and holds back another frustrated sigh, feeling like maybe she wasn't being fair, that her previous insecurities and frustrations might be influencing her. (Y/N) was trying so hard, to be seen, to be heard, to be loved. Because she loved him, honestly and easily, but had she not done this before? Tried to communicate, to understand? With others that now seem pale in comparison with Thomas, but still, love was a complicated thing. For her, it had always been, since the very beginning, since she had known what love was. It was not just Thomas, no, it would be unfair to say it was only him, perhaps she also needed time to deal with what was inside her. Yet she can't help to think it is different with him, there were others before, but he is the one that matters, he is the one she wants close at all times, the one she still stays close to even with all the hurt and words unsaid, waiting, wishing.

It was Tommy, after all, making her heart feel full and empty at the same time, occupying her thoughts, making her feel like things could get better someday.

If she just had the chance to properly talk to him… to cross all the bridges and understand, maybe then a conclusion would be made, one not based on assumptions she could not fully trust.

Nevertheless, here they are, turbulent thoughts clouding each one's mind. The surroundings are beautiful, the wind making leaves float in the air, both of them with their mouths clasped shut and minds running wild.

She can't see it, Thomas thinks, this time she doesn't seem to see the truth in his eyes. He notices the way she is shrinking inside herself, body almost crumbling, and he walks to her, he is tense when he hugs her from behind, arms keeping her in a tight embrace. Thomas knows she is fighting back tears by the way she lets herself go and relaxes her head against his chest as soon as he pulls her in. He can feel the way her body is fighting, half of her not willing to rest completely.

He never truly knows what to say, he did when he was with Grace, or almost always did, a clarity coming to him when he was about to do something stupid. With (Y/N) it is different, he knows how he feels, and she says the right thing, and he lets her read him, and they go on. Sometimes he has to say it, because she is tired, because she needs him to, or simply because he feels the urge to. But now it feels like they have reached a point that if Thomas keeps being silent, things will end.

Still, for a while they just stay in silence. Thomas keeps his touch steady, not entirely conscious that he is drawing patterns on her waist until she lets out a sigh that he recognises quickly by now, contentment, he can feel her relaxing a bit more. His hands wander a bit further, tracing her belly and up her chest, and as he remembers the night they met, his touch becomes heavier. For what felt like an eternity, he had wished to touch her. It was quick, she'd always say, how they met and how they ended up in a private room. She was not aware that for him, it had felt like a long waiting.

A party that he meant to go for business only, not even much interested in said business, at least not enough to try to do it in person, he had sent John to do it, but he got sick. Never before had Thomas been so happy with his brother being ill. Had he never gone to that party, he would not have met her. And it was a truth, even though he did not say it much, but a truth nonetheless, that since they met, she was constantly taking him out of his stupor. Since he had laid his eyes on her, he felt it, hands pulling him up, making him finally blink and wake up.

It was simple between them, it had been since the beginning, he had wanted her and there was no room for questioning if he would follow her, she had corresponded in the same intensity. Slowly their lives came in between, the days apart, the reality of each one, but even then, she only told Thomas she would be waiting, and there was no room for questioning if he would come back.

On the weeks with fewer visits from him, nothing changed, on the weeks he could see her more frequently, everything did.

Although his ghosts still haunted him, it was not the same as before, he could breathe now, push them away easier. But he had never been good with words when it came to this. To confess, he used words to get what he wanted, to conquer, long gone was the time words served as a way to connect and open himself. Grace had started to change that, easily as if she was a childhood love, she had picked up his heart on her hands. Thomas had not expected it, and when it hit him, he realised how truly in love he had been. For once his intuition had left him, after such a long time creating walls upon walls, they crumbled only to have to be raised again. He had also not expected it to change, to meet someone else, and yet, he did.

“What are you thinking?” She asks, head still resting against him.

“You.”

“You are thinking about me?” He can hear the small smile on her lips.

“Yes.”

“What about me?”

“The night we met.”

“Oh.” She chuckles, as if something suddenly made sense to her. “You were so pretty that night.”

Thomas holds back a smile, like he usually does when she says something like this. “I’d say you were more.”

(Y/N) laughs and turns to look at him, distancing herself enough so they could stare, he is relieved to see there are no tears in her eyes. “I was, but it didn’t last long after I met you.”

Her arms find a place on his shoulders as she hugs him, hiding her face on the crock of his neck. She radiates warmth, and Thomas welcomes it eagerly.

“It wasn’t all my fault.” Thomas says, dead serious, because sometimes she seems to forget they burn together, and she laughs again.

He feels when her body changes after a few moments, her breathing getting erratic, he prepares himself.

“Tom?” It's nothing more than a whisper.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking, and…” something in him is begging for him to interrupt her, he knows what is coming, he can feel it. “I think we should, you know, stop seeing each other.”

He stays quiet, his arms never leave her body.

“Why?”

She takes a long time to answer, and Thomas starts to look for words he can say, things he can do to fix whatever needs to be fixed. He knows what it is, but as her silence stretches so much, he wonders if there is something more, if there is more he did and was unaware of it, that isn't hard to imagine. He feels, somehow, the moment she shivers, her arms seem to lose strength, her embrace weakening.

(Y/N) takes a deep breath before speaking,“because… because I feel like I’m Grace’s shadow. I feel like you met me when you were desperately needing someone to replace the emptiness that she left at your heart. It’s not that I’m the same as her, no…” she hides her face even more in his body, “it’s just you wanted someone to make you forget all the pain. And it happened that I was there to be your distraction. And at the beginning, I didn't care. But now, I do.”

She stops, Thomas knows she is fighting back tears, knows that she hates having to say all of this. Then she whispers, “I care because I’m in love with you, and being someone’s shadow for the man I love isn’t my biggest wish.”

What a treacherous path Thomas had walked them into. He could not deny it what he felt in the past was real, what he and Grace had shared was still haunting him, as his deceptions and frustrations always did. He never admitted, but for him, things like that never left his mind, he just pushed them away, kept them hidden. And still, things did not need to be like this, he did not have to act like that. He did… he liked (Y/N), not just that, he loved her even. A small and fragile thing at first, threatening to hurt him, not because it hurt, but because it made him finally move on. But now, a year later, it was not that small any more, he knew what he felt, knew that he searched for her when they were apart. And Thomas had no necessity in comparing what he felt before with what he felt now, he knew it would take time for something like that to happen again — to be true, he had not even thought it would happen again, but it did, it is happening.

Thomas blinks, watching as flowers and leaves were stirred by the wind, a hollow sound surrounding them. There is so much more he probably doesn't know, more things she thinks and has kept to herself.

“You’re not Grace’s shadow.” He says in a whisper, his voice betraying him. It sounds weak, and he wanted to convey how strong his affection is. Nonetheless, he hears her sighing in relief, distancing herself from him a bit, but still not looking at his eyes.

“You love her Tom,” (Y/N) states, “you’re still deeply in love with her and all you lived by her side. If I’m not her shadow, then I’m a mere ghost of what she was.” She raises her eyes to his face, he is already staring, always staring at her.

She looks at him with so much resignation that Thomas is almost convinced he cannot change her mind.

“I’m not angry or mad or upset about this. I’m just sad.” She says it then, voice low, Thomas knows it is because she is holding tears back. “And it doesn’t matter how much I love you, I don’t want to be sad, to feel miserable every time I don’t act like someone I don't even know. I just don’t want that life for me, even if that means losing you.”

He looks away, not being able to stare at her eyes at the moment, not when he doesn't have the right words to say. It was not his intention for it to reach this point, for her to think he wants a copy of Grace. He knows he has to say it, explain himself, but it is like being paralysed. It's the kiss on his cheek that makes him finally blink, it is the way her lips are so delicate against his skin, a goodbye. She leaves his arms, turning around to go back to the car, but he holds her wrist immediately, (Y/N) stops, looking at him with knitted eyebrows.

Thomas takes in all of her at that moment, the determination clear in her eyes, eyes he has grown so accustomed to, that do not search him unless he opens himself, eyes that love him, tender him. Eyes that he cannot forget even when she is not with him. He looks at her lips, lips that have said the words he needed to hear, the ones he did not want to hear, lips that have kissed him with so much passion that he was able to forget the world for some hours. She has, slowly, found a place inside of him, roots with her name overtaking his chest. Her hair flutters around her face, she seems tired, (Y/N) offers no more resistance on her face, only resignation, but she does not pull away either. He engraves every single detail of her in his mind.

The words are not helping him, he cannot think of anything good enough to say, it is like she wiped his mind, leaving nothing but thousands of pictures of her behind. Of every moment she has used her words not to pry him open, but to convince him to do so, every moment she has held him in place instead of insisting on dragging him somewhere else.

It was at the moment, the sun shining brightly, orange light taking over the sky, making her skin seem warm to the touch, that he finally realised. It had always been simple between them, he did not need to complicate it right now, there was no need for elaborate words, only the truth. She wanted something straight-forward, (Y/N) was just asking for it to be real.

“I don’t want her,” Thomas says, words finally appearing. “I don’t want her like I want you. Not any more.”

And it was true, he had loved Grace, had felt something he thought himself incapable of after the war, and yet, it passed. She had betrayed him, and he still felt it then, sometimes still feels it now, but it passed.

She gives a step forward, “but you still love her, right?”

He allows himself to remember Grace's face, her tender touch, it was involuntary, the care that comes with it. But there is also the pang of heartbreak, the understanding and the sense of finality, there is nothing he can do to go back in time, and now, he does not want it any more. He has (Y/N), she mended what was broken. He takes a step towards her as well, hand tightening even more around her wrist, he wants her now more than he ever did.

“Yes.” he admits, because it is also true that (Y/N) can wring secrets from him. “But she’s past.”

“Is she, Tom?” She gives in a deep breath, “if that’s so, you’re a man living your days in the past. You’re always with her, even when you try to be here with me.”

“No.” he denies, low and firm, “It’s not me living in the past, (Y/N).”

“What is it then?”

He wants to say it at that moment, to confess she haunts him, that his past always does — who he was before war, who he became during it. It is a part of him now. But that is not his nature any more, to confess this easily, it takes time, and he has said more today than he ever did before. Instead, he looks at her, knowing that when nothing comes out of his mouth, that it's what denounces him, his eyes.

She reads him again. Thomas knows, he always knows when she understands. Maybe it is the look on her face, he has never been able to identify what it was, but something changed when she could get him.

“I know it ain't easy,” (Y/N) says, getting closer to him, she puts a hand on his face, “it seems to haunt you, Thomas.”

She is close now, enough that he can feel the warmth of her body again. Thomas lets himself relax against her, his hand still on her wrist, he can feel her pulse now, slightly accelerated.

“I feel left out sometimes,” she whispers, “as if she is right behind me, and I am echoing her words, or at least the words you wanted her to say.”

Thomas nods, “you are not like her.”

(Y/N) seems surprised at that, “what was she like?”

But that is too much. “You are different,” he establishes, firm enough for her to understand he does not want to talk about Grace like that. It's easier to just forget, sharing this feels strange, describing how he loved her — because it would not be just an impartial view of how she was. “And your words too, you do not echo her in my mind.”

You fixed it. Erased what hurt was left on the surface.

(Y/N) squint her eyes at him, he lets her stare into his eyes, lets her understand.

“If we…” she cleans her throat, “if you try, could this work?”

He bites his tongue to say that is already working, because yes, for him, it is, but she is opening herself to him and saying she is hurting.

“What do you want?” He asks, instead.

“You.” (Y/N) shrugs, “I know we can't be each other one and only. But it would be good if you opened yourself more, I cannot always read your mind.”

He must've frowned at that, because she immediately completes, “I know it's different for you, how you open up. I sometimes wish for words, it's true, but it is not what you can give me and I know that.” And although she understood it wrong — he was just surprised when she said she could not always read him —, he was happy to hear that.

Thomas puts a hand on her waist, pulling her and closing the distance that was left, he can feel her now, that smell that calms him every time they sleep together, he tightens his grip. There is not a world where he would refuse this, it is surprising, sometimes even slightly scary and annoying, how she managed to awaken him when he fought so much to numb himself. But he always comes back to her, always knocks on her door, because it is stupidity to refuse her, push her away, only a mad man would do that. He consumes her instead, goes to her house, drinks from her lips with such thirst it is as if he is famished, and it is never enough. Whatever she wants, he thinks, whatever she wants to stay.

She is looking at him with an indecipherable expression, but he cares not at the moment, he will have plenty of time to reflect on everything she said today, to understand her even more. Now, he searches for her lips, brushing his own against her, wanting to feel her before making the real move. He is not one for teasing, every time he does this, it is because the waiting feel as good as the actual kiss, the way he can feel her skin shivering, the way she whimpers slightly — because they are the same when it comes to this, she also has an insatiable hunger. They finally kiss, then, desperate to feel each other, it always feels like they are one at this moment, and nothing else matters.

She is the one to break the kiss, only to look at him and whisper, “I love you.”

Before Thomas can think of answering, her lips are crashing against his again, demanding, taking, and he answers it. He almost chuckles when one of her hands find her way to get under his shirt, but his own body leans into it in such a fast manner he knows he would be laughing at himself too.

Since the first time she touched him like this, he knew he had cursed himself. He knew he would be damned, growing hunger for that, fonder for her. She had scared him, and yet, proved herself to be exactly what he needed.

He broke the kiss this time, not being able to contain the smirk when he saw her drunk eyes, even though he was for sure laughing at himself too.

“I love you.”

She melts against him, smiles brightly. He does not know why he waited so long to say it, but he is usually like this, takes too long to say something important.

“You’re not her.” He finds himself saying, surprising the both of them, “you’re not her shadow.”

She nods, Thomas sees her blooming right in front of him. He feels something settling in his chest, his mind getting quieter, a miracle for its own, but even more special when he feels it because of her.

Please. He thinks as he gives a peck on her lips. Don’t ever say you’re a mere ghost, when I love you this much.

The wind was still stirring the flowers and leaves of the field, and the field was still the same, same as the sun shining in the sky. But somehow, everything seemed more right.

[lunar-wandering]

well now i’m just thinking about Ao Chang so here’s a few more things with him,

Two whole weeks after MK catches his first glimpse of Ao Chang, he wakes up in the middle of the night to find Ao Chang sitting beside him poking his face with a stick

Ao Chang: whats your name? MK: what are you doing in my house??? Ao Chang: What’s your name?? MK: ....MK Ao Chang: oh. cool.

and then Ao Chang just leaves and MK wonders if he hallucinated the whole thing.

he asks Wukong about it the next day and Wukong just freezes before going;

Wukong: I. have no idea who you’re talking about. MK: Monkey King- Wukong: no seriously I’ve never heard of a demon like that in my life- MK: Monkey King. Wukong: are you sure you saw him on Flower Fruit Mountain? maybe you were tired from training and hallucinating- MK: Monkey King he’s standing right behind you

and Wukong JUMPS and spins around to see Ao Chang, and just mutters;

“I thought my desire to eat sticks off the ground was getting suspiciously stronger.”

Literally when Ao Chang is hanging around the amount of Bullshit that happens is so funny

Wukong will stare at a wall and say “I wonder if I could run through that without using my powers” and MK will look at Ao Chang with his last thread of hope as though he’d hold a sense of reason only to find that Ao Chang has already slammed into the wall.

within the context of Ao Chang’s existence being an AU, Macaque actually briefly escapes from the Mayor in s2 and flees to FFM for help- only he encounters Ao Chang instead of Wukong.

Ao Chang does hold enough level of interest in Macaque’s presence to hold a bit of a conversation with him, but then the Mayor shows up and just flicks a coin off into the distance and Ao Chang immediately follows the shiny object and Macaque gets captured again.

Macaque completely misunderstands who Ao Chang is and ends up assuming he’s either a runaway clone or like, Wukong’s actual kid

which leads to a HILARIOUS conversation with Wukong later on

Macaque: so hows your other kid doing Wukong: my other what Macaque: yknow. your kid. the one that chased after a coin when i needed his help Wukong, knowing MK wouldn't do that: i. who are you talking about- Macaque: the monkey demon that looks a bit like you? Wukong: Wukong: you think he's my KID?? Macaque: HE'S NOT???

Macaque, turning to Ao Chang: are you his kid?? Ao Chang: yeah Wukong: what- no- Macaque: have you been neglecting your child, Wukong????

Macaque knows full well Wukong has not been doing that but he drags everyone else into the joke. Someone at some point asks Wukong to pay child support.

There’s one week where Ao Chang ends up in teh city and starts stealing stuff and people instantly blame Wukong for it and put a bounty on his head

MK just over with Wukong in his apartment like "i am harbouring a CRIMINAL oh my heavens-" "kid im not the one who-" "oh they're absolutely going to come to me to get to you, I publicly announced myself as the monkey kid dammnit-" "MK it wasn't-" "you'd THINK they'd know better than to go after you considering havoc in heaven but-" "MK please it wasn't me"

meanwhile Ao Chang is in Wukong's house just watching TV and vibing

Macaque is with Ao Chang. he knows exactly what happened. he finds this incredibly funny. he's sitting there letting Ao Chang brag/ramble/show off the things he stole

an entire week into "the monkey king must be brought under arrest", MK and the others manage to track down Ao Chang who has been just barely avoiding them through just pure luck

“ this is great, now we can prove you're innocent Monkey King! ....Monkey King?”

and Mei lets out a sigh. Red Son taps MK's shoulder and points him in one direction 

Wukong is biting on one of the jewels Ao Chang stole while Ao Chang is cheering him on 

MK, with as much disappointment as he can muster: ....Monkey King.

[winderlylandchime]

They really do that! Every guy i know that’s straight just stands in the middle of the room and pretends they don’t care but they do. And i will happily report back. We finished s1 yesterday morning and he wants to start s2 later today. So far my favorite is he loves Emmett and even likes ted, he loves Brian but hates everyone for guilt tripping him with Gus, he absolutely HATED David, was pissed at Michael half of the season and would audibly groan when he’d be whiney. Around episode 10 he paused it and went ‘dear whoever is up there pleaseeeeeeeeee let this moron get his ass handed to him by the end of the season. Just one good punch please!’ And then he quickly added like a PS ‘But not in a hateful way.’ And then when the inevitable in 1x22 happened, he screamed on top of his lungs ‘NOOOOOOO THAT’S THE WRONG WHITE BOY!!!!!!!!! I MEANT THE OTHER ONEEEE AND ALSO NOT LIKE THAT FUCKS SAKE’ he then proceeded to stare at the blank screen after the episode for quite a bit and looked at me horrified and said ‘….well shit, i need a cigarette.’ And I wish i was joking when I say that he sat outside on a chair for like 10 minutes quietly until out of nowhere I heard him talking to someone on the phone and he said ‘but you don’t understand! They love each other and now I think he’s dead! DEAD! DO YOU KNOW WHAT DEAD MEANS?! D-E-A-D! GONE POOF PLAYING WITH THE ANGELS!’ Followed up with a quiet ‘no mom, i am not being dramatic’

I would just like the jury to know that this man is 36 years old.

DEAR SWEET ANON! The giggle that escaped my mouth has terrified everyone in hearing distance (my dog).

Your brother and your description of him is giving me life on this random Wednesday.

His love of Emmett is Good and Correct. As I get older, my appreciation of Ted grows. Also, as I get older (and closer to David’s age), I see just how toxic he is. Like he really wanted to sugar baby Michael - he was so controlling and really about how he made more money and had a good job was all “don’t worry honey, just stay home and look pretty.”

The guilt tripping over Gus is so real - is Brian a sperm donor and Melanie the second parent or is he the father? I know, of course, that kids can be raised with 3 parents but it seems like he got snookered with the promise of being the sperm donor and wound up with the weight of expectations that he is a full third parent. Except when it doesn’t suit the moms.

WAIT UNTIL YOUR BROTHER GETS TO 301. He’ll get his punch.

His reaction to 122 is absolutely right. “They love each other and now I think he’s dead” is the bittersweetness of 122. Staring at the screen and then just sitting for several minutes is the only way one can process 122. And no, Anon’s mom, he is not being dramatic. One can never be too dramatic about 122.

Please return and let us know how he responds to 201…

[y0itsbri]

shameless summer series - lifeguard au 🥽🩲🌊

debbie has her eye on the new lifeguard at the public pool. unlucky for her, said lifeguard already has his eye set on a different red-headed gallagher.

(think like s2 era)

also happy a.u.gust! @gallavichthings

words: 1.7k

"Debs, why do I gotta take you to the pool again this week? I thought you already fixed whatever was the problem with that blonde bitch," Ian whined, shoveling cereal into his mouth. Two tubes of sunscreen sat on the table in front of him.

"It's not about her anymore." Debbie retorted, like it was the simplest thing.

"Okay. Then what is it about?"

"Nothing!"

"Ask her boyfriend." Carl yelled over his video game in the living room, taking any opportunity to embarrass his sister.

Ian and Debbie's voices overlapped with a "Boyfriend?!" and "He's not my boyfriend-- Carl I'm going to fucking kill you!"

Debbie tossed a fork at Carl's head.

"Oh, now I'm definitely in," Ian laughed and winced before Debbie could throw a fork his direction.

--

The walk to the pool was relatively quiet aside from the rhythmic smacking of their sandals against the gravely pavement.

Debbie leapt a few strides, trying to outrun her shadow and failing each time. Ian chuckled, pulling the towel around his neck and swinging his keychain with the other hand.

Now that it was just the two of them, he tried again.

"Soooo," he drawled. "What's with this secret boyfriend?"

Debbie sighed. "He's not my boyfriend. Well, not yet."

"Hmm?"

"He's one of the new lifeguards since Justin got attacked by that dog last week."

Justin still owed Lip a beating for something or other so Ian was glad he didn't have to deal with Justin today, at least.

"You think this new lifeguard is a little too old for you?" Ian wondered.

Debbie shrugged. "Not like it matters much."

Ian couldn't argue with that logic. "I'll kick his ass if he bothers you, yeah?"

"Please. He doesn't even look at me. Even when I was fake-drowning." She skipped down the sidewalk, nearing the pool entrance.

Ian shook his head. His sister was something else.

--

After they set their towels down, Ian's eyes scoured the lifeguard chairs immediately. Too-tan-Toni, shrimp-speedo-Sam, and holy-fucking-shit. Was that Mickey Milkovich?

Ian hadn't let himself think about Mickey since he left town. But it was hard not to now that he was right in front of him again. Shit.

Mickey spread out across his chair, sunglasses low on his nose, watching the newcomers and he smirked before glancing back towards the pool. He blew his whistle and yelled at some kid to 'slow the fuck down unless you wanna bust your ass -- and I ain't fixing you up!'

Ian was brought back to the moment by Debbie's hands waving in front of his face. "Helloooo, earth to Ian! Sunscreen?"

Ian could've sworn he heard a chuckle coming from the direction of the lifeguard chair as he dug the sunscreen out of his shorts pockets. No. He was just being paranoid. His cheeks blushed regardless.

"Is that...?" Ian nodded his head towards the raven-haired man.

"Shhh!" Debbie slapped him on the arm. "Don't make it obvious!"

Ian rolled his eyes at her ridiculousness.

He covered Debbie's back and shoulders in the high resistance sunscreen before she took off towards the side of the pool with the diving board, eager to show off her skills.

He yelled after her. "Wait, fuck, Debs you forgot..." He glanced around.

His eyes definitely locked with Mickey's now.

Fuck.

Mickey hopped off his chair, waving his hand to dismiss his crowd of moon-eyed preteen girls and middle-aged women in scandalous bikinis. Ian would have shuddered at the thought if Mickey wasn't making a bee-line directly towards him.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuuuuuck.

"'Sup, man? Been awhile..." He smirked. "Raggedy Ann run out on ya?" Mickey bowed his leg out on his final step towards Ian, a little closer than he expected.

"Uhhh...." Real smooth, Ian. His words were bound to fail him again with the man in such close proximity to him, so he simply held up his bottle of sunscreen and shrugged.

"Toss it here," Mickey coolly demanded.

Ian was thoroughly confused, but threw it anyways. "What?"

"You heard me, Red. Turn around, I'll get your back."

"Protecting and serving the local ginger kids at the pool?" Ian joked weakly, finding his voice again.

Mickey huffed a breath. "Fuck the pigs. The only thing I'm protecting is your ass from a sunburn."

Ian was still confused as to why Mickey was offering to rub his back at a very public pool when he would have literally beaten his ass for looking his direction before.

All of Ian's thoughts subsided as he felt sturdy hands push the warming liquid around his shoulder blades, up his neck, then down his spine. Mickey's thumb digging deep into his muscles. He suppressed his urge to shiver despite the rising temperatures of the hot Chicago summer.

At least he thought he had suppressed it. A huff of air on the back of his neck said otherwise.

Mickey started pulling his hands away and Ian leaned back into them again. Mickey whacked the side of his head before tossing the bottle of sunscreen onto the chair in front of them.

"No free massages, man. Just sunscreen." Mickey licked the corner of his mouth and looked from the ground up to Ian's eyes.

He had to know how devious he looked. Ian didn't want to be presumptuous, but he just held eye contact.

"Unless," Mickey veered, slowly backing away, "the favor was returned in one way or another." He winked.

Ian stood, mouth agape as Mickey turned and waved again to the group of girls who still hadn't taken their eyes off of him. He hopped up onto his chair, whistle in mouth in no time like nothing had ever happened.

What the fuck was going on?

--

Ian spent the next few hours very much Not Looking At Mickey despite feeling a heated stare on him.

Even when he was having a breath-holding competition with Debbie, his brain couldn't stop the endless stream of Mickey Mickey Mickey.

After Debbie's third win, Ian felt like he was on the verge of passing out, so he returned to his towel, chugging his water bottle.

In a moment of weakness, he glanced at Mickey, only to find him already staring. Mickey tilted his head towards the main building and quietly dismissed himself to go on his break.

Ian knew.

He wasn't that stupid. He knew Mickey wanted him to follow. And he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea. All the while, his feet took him closer.

The building felt even hotter than the outside, the AC must've gone out and no one bothering to replace it.

This was a bad idea.

Ian was just about to turn around and leave when he heard the click of a lock.

"'Bout fuckin' time," Mickey stalked forward, eyes raking up and down Ian's body appreciatively.

Ian was putty.

He groaned as he let himself be pulled forward by the hips. "Didn't know you were a lifeguard?"

He sighed as Mickey toyed with the band of his shorts in between his tattooed fingers. His nails scraping dully against his sides.

"Dad got shanked. Family business went under. Had to go legal." Mickey's hands moved upwards as he raked his fingers through the sides of Ian's still-wet hair, gripping onto the back of his neck. Ian slid his own hands up Mickey's back, pushing his red tank top up with it, exposing his pale skin.

"Missed this." It was a whisper.

Ian attached his lips to the side of Mickey's neck briefly, tasting remnants of salt, chlorine, and sunscreen, before Mickey sunk down to his knees. Ian's hands were now gripping dark hair, and he was sure that the rocky pavement of the unfinished building had to be digging into Mickey's skin, but he made no sounds of discomfort.

Sure, he missed this, but he missed him more, not that he could say that.

--

On the walk home, the sun was hanging low in the sky and both Gallaghers' cheeks were sunburnt pink.

"Did ya have fun?" Ian asked, knocking his empty water bottle against the top of Debbie's head.

She scrunched her face up, but replied with some pep in her voice. "Yeah! Today the hot life guard actually looked at me! Maybe bringing you around was good luck."

No way in hell Ian was going to out Mickey to his little sister, let alone out himself. He put on a big-brother reassuring smile and changed the subject.

"Good luck for you maybe. I lost literally all of our competitions today!"

She giggled, "That was all skill, not luck. Frank's been helping me practice!"

Frank? Maybe Ian needed to spend a little more time at home. On the other hand, maybe it was a good thing Ian hadn't been spending a lot of time at home.

--

Ian left after dinner unannounced, taking his well-worn trail to the baseball dugouts.

When he approached the field, he noticed a small orange flame illuminating the man's face and a cloud of smoke fog through the chained fence. He smirked.

"Couldn't get enough the first round?" Ian taunted, announcing his presence as he leapt over the fence, an old habit.

"Fuck you, man," Mickey scoffed and blew his smoky breath in Ian's grimacing face.

"Oh I think you plan on it." He stepped closer.

"Is that so?"

"Mmhmm," Ian plucked the cigarette out of Mickey's fingers. "Can't have you with bad lungs, then what will all the poor defenseless swimmers do without a capable lifeguard?"

"Let 'em drown," Mickey smacked Ian's cigarette out of his hands and closed the distance between them.

"It would crush your groupies to know you care so little," Ian murmured against his neck.

"This is a bad idea," Mickey breathed, tugging at Ian's crumpled shirt.

"The worst," Ian yanked his shirt fully off.

Mickey pulled back, eyeing Ian's now-bare back.

"Mmm, no sunburn. That would've ruined my plans." Mickey smiled smugly.

Oh shit.

Ian swallowed. He was already way too far off the deep end. Luckily for them both, Mickey knew how to swim.

[gallavichfanficlibrary]

what are some of your favorite one-shots (angsty, fluffy, whatever you guys want)

Hi! :) Be sure to check out our favorites tag for all of our faves -- one shots and multi chapters. But here are a few of our favorite one shots below. Some of them are a bit longer, so pay attention to the word counter if you're up for a quick read :)

Breaking and Entering Lip plans a simple job and recruits Ian's help. When it inevitably goes wrong, Ian hides out in someone's apartment.

Minutes Set around or post S5. Just the boys being in love.

Southside Scumbags In 3x03, Ian didn’t come home for dinner after Mickey beat the crap out of Ned. So what the heck did Ian and Mickey do all day?

life of the party In which Ian and Mickey are domestic bitches, and deal with some of Ian's memories of those lost months working in the clubs.

eighty-four Time travel AU. “I slept with Mickey Milkovich last night,” Ian whispers. “So?” “So—” Ian stares at his phone for a second. “I slept with Mandy’s fucking brother.” “Ian, what do you want me to say? Congratulations? You’ve been dating Mickey for almost a year.”

The Needle And The Burning Body Mickey had two burning torches for hands but he knew what to do with them. Ian's head was on fire and all he knew was how to run and keep running. How to find a cliff and jump off. How to make Mickey chase after him, again and again. And in a cold cell in prison, Mickey catches him.

there is always, and in it, us In which there are an infinite number of universes, and Ian and Mickey collide in all of them.

Eighteen Mickey never had A Master Plan. His only plan in the last decade has been Find Ian. Instead, he's basically raised a kid, accidentally started a slow burning revolution, and failed everyone he actually cares about.

Staccato Heartbeat There's a boy sleeping in bed beside you, and you can still feel his nails digging into your back, his lips whispering across your collarbone, the steady rhythm of your bodies moving together. You can still hear him hissing in your ear: "This doesn't mean a thing, it doesn't matter." And you ache with how much it matters to you.

Reward Mickey is living his happy ending. It’s unsettling. And there are so many Gallaghers. Just so, so many.

Summer Shandy S2 fill-in. [...] The sun beat down relentlessly, setting over the rooftops in the distance and shining on them like a beacon. Ian was so high he could practically feel his own skin. He breathed out. “I think this is the happiest I’ll ever be.”

amas veritas A reimagining of S1-5, in a world where the mysterious Milkovich matriarch was a modern middle-of-the-city witch who passed the tricks of the trade in to her two youngest children.

thaw. A few months after 5x12, Ian asks Mickey to meet him.

Make Your Move on Me 4x08 fill-in.

the spaces between my fingers Lip and Amanda have a dinner at the Gallagher house. Amanda learns about Ian and Mickey.

The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I’m alive Set in S5. Mickey worries about Ian too much. They talk it out, fight it out and sex it out.

It got long, cause there's three of us now ;)

[shinydelirium]

Kiro’s 2021 Childhood Bday  R&S Translation [CN]

***THIS POST CONTAINS CONTENT THAT HAS NOT BEEN RELEASED YET ON EN SERVER!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS***

This is a translation from Kiro’s 2021 childhood birthday story released on CN server. I do not know any Chinese so this was done through Google Translate. I apologize for any errors or mistranslations. Without further ado, please continue on reading!!! :) 

***WARNING: ANGST!!! THIS IS SUPPOSE TO BE A HAPPY DAY FOR KIRO!!! FIRST IT WAS S2 CH12 AND NOW THIS!?!?! WTH, PAPERGAMES!?!?!***

[Chapter 1]: Child Star’s Birthday

7:50 am California

After Kiro ran to the classroom and sat down, he laid his head directly on the table. “You can sleep for another ten minutes.” He whispered to himself in his heart.

He is too sleepy.

Ten hours ago, he finished the last set of filming, returned from the studio to the house the company set up for him in California, and then caught up on all the missing courses and homework. It was already 3 o’clock in the morning.

As if on cue, his stomach growled and Kiro lay helplessly on the table.  

Since his debut, he has become more or less accustomed to the professionalism of being a “star�� but at this time his stomach seems to be persistently singing against him. Kiro hesitated for a moment and then opened a pack of soda five minutes later.

Sweetness hits the tip of his tongue and brings a sense of satisfaction to his brain. He finally breathed a sigh of relief, put on his headphones and closed his eyes.  

This is the first time in a while he has taken a break in the past few days.  

Kiro took a deep breath quietly and buried his face deeper into his arms.

But he could still feel the gazes around him looking at him and the innocent discussions. Even the moment he walked into the classroom and sat down, the air was still for half a second.

He doesn’t like this kind of “special treatment” nor does he like how he is always affected by it.

Over the years, he thought that he should be used to being watched constantly, and perhaps he had to bear the pressure from other peers. But sure enough, in fact, there are still many times that he will be a little breathless.  

Like now.  

As a child star, there were two to three days a week that he where he would be absent from school. For Kiro, his classmates are indeed some distance away. Because of his repeated absence, the- so-called disparity was expected.  

The reasons are not so complicated in the eyes of the children. At this age, the feeling of distance is often more sensitive than adults.  

He also wants to try his best to build a good relationship with them. After all, having friends is a very happy thing.  

As if he had finally made up his mind, Kiro took a deep breath, smoothed down messy hair, and raised his smiling face along with his shining blue eyes.

“Good morning, everyone, long time no see!” No one could possibly refuse such a warm and sincere greeting, let alone Kiro.  

Even though some shy classmates nodded their heads and smiled with furtive gazes, the greeting initiated by Kiro still received many responses. Soon, a small circle formed around him. Everyone scrambled to ask which crew he went to during the period of “his absence”, which big star he saw, and what new information he gathered.

Suddenly, a boy with curly hair, leaned in and patted Kiro on the shoulder with great enthusiasm.

“Kiro! Happy birthday!”

As his high voice rang out, the children who got together cheered in unison.  

“They are all embarrassed to come and tell you, so I said it! Happy birthday, future star.”

Kiro was taken aback.

“Thank you.”

Almost a subconscious reply.

But in that small world that only belonged to Kiro, another voice sounded different from what he was doing at this time.

“So, today is my birthday.”

[Chapter 2]: A Heart to Live Up To

“Kiro, great, you haven’t left yet!”  

The lingering sound of the bell was still echoing. Kiro had just cleaned up and wanted to seize the rare free time to make up for a good night’s sleep, when he was suddenly stopped by the instructor who had rushed over. He excitedly grabbed Kiro’s hands, looking very surprised.

“Teacher, are you looking for me?”

“Yeah....” The teacher didn’t seem to know how to begin. Kiro responded sensibly, leading the question back at the end of the dialogue.

“If there is anything I need to do, you can just say it directly.”

After hearing this, the teacher nodded in relief, as if he had waited for a long time and quickly told the whole story.  

Kiro understood what was going on.  

It turned out that there was a very important violin competition for high school students today and the classmate of the classical music department who represented the school had a temporary accident and was unable to participate. He wanted Kiro to help fill in.

“...Okay, I will try my best. Thank you, teacher, for believing in me.”

Even though he was tired, he did not refuse this sudden request.

It’s not that he isn’t interested in the competition, nor is he absolutely confident in his skills, it’s just...

He hopes that he is perfect enough in the eyes of the teacher.

After all, at this critical time, the teacher thought of him and believed in him, and he must not fail this trust.

Thinking about this, Kiro clenched his teeth, swallowed a yawn that was ready to come out, and forced himself to wake up. After the teacher went back to the residence to fetch his violin, he hurried to the scene of the competition.

The site was set up in the observation deck of a building and under the transparent glass plank pathway, it is a panoramic view of the entire city.  

At the time of arrival, many contestants were already busy making preparations. Kiro’s appearance undoubtedly caused quite a stir. The teacher proudly met the gazes and protected Kiro through the crowd to their waiting area.

Kiro quickly entered the waiting area. He opened the violin bag, skillfully tightened the bow, wiped the rosin, set the violin on his shoulder, and tuned the pegs carefully and intently.  

Now that he is here, he must do his best. He cheered himself up and walked in the direction where he was ready to take the stage.

“Don’t worry, he is a little star. Even if he doesn’t do well, he has publicity and won’t make the school lose too badly.”

The voice in the corner made Kiro stop.

He didn’t listen. It seemed that there was another voice arguing with him, but that was not important. Kiro just returned to the waiting area quietly, waiting for the announcement from the competition organizer. He just lowered his head and stood there quietly.

At this time a man came over. He patted Kiro’s shoulder lightly and said mysteriously.

“Kiro, this is the first time we’ve met. I am a teacher in the classical music department.” He lowered his voice, “Actually, I don’t really like the format of music competitions. Music should be something to enjoy and convey emotions, not some sort of boring game. So don’t think of it as a competition, but as a special show. I’m looking forward to hearing the music you play. I heard that you play the violin very well. This is the first time I will hear your music.

After that, he mischievously gave Kiro a big pat on the back. *Took some liberties here with the translation*  

Kiro stared at this somewhat holistic man and did not speak for a long time. A similar and familiar feeling came out of him.  

The broadcast system called Kiro’s name.

“Don’t think about anything, just let the world hear your voice.”

[Chapter 3]: Happy Birthday Song

The competition ended smoothly.

Kiro didn’t remember the process of his performance. He only remembered the way the classical music department teacher exaggeratedly raised his hands to applaud him when he left the competition. His eyes were full of real and undisguised recognition and praise.

At the end of the competition, he politely declined the kindness of the teachers and left alone.  

The California coast is like spring all year round and the fresh air is filled with a faint smell of saltwater. Kiro walked, suddenly a little at a loss.  

For a moment he didn’t know where he should go or where he could go. He just carried his violin bag and walked alone on the streets of California aimlessly.  

Until he passed by a family restaurant.

Such restaurants are very common in California. People choose outdoor dining areas to enjoy their food with nature.

As far as Kiro’s line of sight could see, a family sat around the table warmly. There are grandparents, parents, and even uncles and aunts. And the main star of this family banquet is obviously the little girl sitting in the middle wearing a birthday hat.

She sat happily in the center, closing her eyes in front of a huge cake.  

Everyone’s face was filled with the look of joy as they watched her patiently and earnestly. No one interrupted the most solemn “ceremony” at this time.  

The little girl closed her eyes for a long, long time. Maybe she had a lot of wishes that she wants to come true or maybe she is carefully telling some wish that she wants to come true the most.  

After all, in the eyes of a child, the more important the wish, the more carefully it will be heard and realized.  

Kiro stood there and looked at the little girl’s face quietly. He didn’t know what he was feeling right now. It seemed that something he wanted to show was turning upwards along his heart, as if he would shed tears in the next second.  

He just stood there silently, watching her finally make her wish, blowing out the candles while her family sang “happy birthday.” Grabbing the balloons in her hand, the girl ran around in the open space, spinning her little skirt.  

Then she saw Kiro and ran towards him happily without knowing what she was thinking.

“Prince!” She waved her little hand at Kiro and said loudly. Kiro was stunned. The little girl ran up to him and raised her head, “His Royal Highness, are you here to wish me a happy birthday, too?”

Kiro thought for a while, crouched down and touched the little girl’s head, “Although I am not a prince, I wish you a happy birthday!”

The little girl didn’t seem to understand what he meant. She carefully picked out a yellow one from her balloon stash and gave it to Kiro.  

“Thank you for wishing me happiness, and I wish you happiness too. This is for you.”

The little girl happily ran back to her seat after speaking with him and the whole family nodded politely to him, seeming to express gratitude.  

Kiro looked at the yellow balloon in his hand and walked away slowly.

He was walking on the road, the sun a little dazzling, the balloon floating gently while he hummed quietly.

“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me~”

At this time, his phone chimed, alerting him to an email.

[Chapter 4]: Special Birthday Gift

It is an email from KEY.

Since he came to the United States, KEY has always liked to use this “fun” way to keep in touch with him in addition to the phone.

Kiro sat on the roadside steps, “If my agent sees me like this, he will definitely be angry.”

Kiro thought about it leisurely but didn’t have any plans to get up.

“Today is my birthday, so I call the shots!” *Took some liberties here*

First, he simply replied to the fan messages wishing him a happy birthday on social media and then concentrated on deciphering KEY’s information. It is a very interesting little program. The code attached to the email can be directly written to change the content of the email.  

Kiro has always been happy with this special design. Under his operation, the information was quickly decoded.

“The place where you stay most often.”

Kiro read it out gently, and there was a pair of combined numbers at the same time.  

He raised his head, as if thinking of something.

The dance studio was deserted at this time.

This was the exclusive training room given to him by the company. Kiro took out the key and walked in gently in the same way as he had been in class.  

This is a special place for him.

The sun in the afternoon was particularly brilliant, flowing into the entire classroom through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which looked clean and sparkling. Kiro stood in front of a small cabinet in the dance studio.

He felt like an ordinary child at this moment, being guided to find the answer in the way he was most interested in. He was a little happy when he thought of this.  

Kiro cautiously opened the cabinet and found a box inside. He took it out, and after opening it, it turned out to be an exquisite violin.

The little violin along with the sunlight filtering down onto the light brown amber, reflected in his eyes, as if it was shining.

At this time, the second email came. It was simple and there was no need for decoding.

“Happy birthday.” He seemed to hear KEY saying this to him.

Kiro couldn’t help thinking, when did KEY hide it here?

As if responding to his question, footsteps came from outside the door. Kiro’s heart beat a little fast, and he suddenly wondered if there would be another gift.

He opened the door in surprise, and an unceremonious man greeted him.

The man didn’t even take off his shoes. The exquisite black leather shoes stepped on the smooth floor, looking particularly dazzling.

Kiro felt his fingertips instantly chill, and he clenched his hands hard to keep his body from shaking.

“I really don’t know why I’m responsible for this kid.” The man gave him a look of disgust, “I won’t talk too much nonsense with you.”

“The higher ups are very dissatisfied with you.” Each word struck Kiro’s heart, “Don’t forget why you want to become a star.”

“In one month’s time,” he threw a document on the ground, “Finish it.”

“I don’t know what you have to look forward to.” The man walked in front of him to the center of the floor. Kiro lowered his head, and there were only footprints left in his field of vision that seemed to have been dyed black with thick ink, step by step, on a clean floor.

It seems that no matter how hard he tried, he can’t wipe off that trace.

“3684.” The man impatiently left his last words, “Don’t be too self-righteous. You really think you are worth something?”

[Chapter 5]: Things You Want To Protect

In the empty dance studio, the operating sound of the air humidifier hummed quietly.

Kiro didn’t know how long he had been standing there until the tingling sensation rushed to his legs and he instinctively moved forward slightly.

The towel and hairband hanging on the side of the cabinet came into view and he strode forward suddenly and threw them to the ground fiercely. ***The towel and hairband mentioned here are what Kiro uses during dance practice to wipe off/absorb sweat***

The world swallowed his outburst silently but indifferently, making him at this moment seem small and lonely.

In the end, he dragged his numb body and walked tiredly to the towel and hairband, as if all his strength had been drained and slowly knelt on the floor.

Just like the day when he first picked them.

Kiro stretched out his hand, slowly picked up the towel and hair band, and carefully hugged them in his arms. They were his only close friends, walking side by side. They were proof of his hard work. But if these proofs can be trampled so easily, then what was all his effort for?”

The edges of the cotton towel and hairbands were slightly deformed due to their repeated use. He swiped hard, remembering that he had almost thrown them away because of being used so many times.

And whenever he was about to throw them in the trash can, the soft texture in his hands was always quietly hot at that moment.

It seemed to be telling him, “Wait a minute. Hold on.”

It’s as if they were reminding him they were made in order to continued to be used.

He once heard others say that life will find a way out.

“Is this the way you worked hard to find?”

He stood foolishly in front of the trash can, looking at the towel and hairbands in his hands, muttering to himself.

Then he would stand there, talking endlessly for a while.  

He thought that music was the way out for his life that was once empty.

It seemed that in the darkness where he still was, a gleaming light suddenly broke in. In that world, he can always shine with golden light and light up his life forever.

He can see himself.

But if he can’t maintain this purity, is he still worthy to live in this world that once taught him to redeem?

No.

Kiro raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror.

That world may be impure, but his dream is real, and his love is real. This was what he wanted to do as Kiro, and it was the only way out.

He is Kiro. Not 3684.

He rubbed the hair band firmly, then raised his hand to tie it on his head and smiled at himself in the mirror with encouragement and humbleness as he did before each practice.

“Today’s 2-hour dance training has not been completed yet.”

A dynamic rhythm sounded in the studio and the sound of footsteps rubbing on the floor resounded one after another. Kiro was practicing hard while telling himself in his heart.  

“This is just another ordinary day, tomorrow will only be better.”

Two hours later, he turned off the music, bent over gasping, and abnormally did not stand up for a long, long time.

Finally, for what seemed like ages, he slowly straightened up, took out the violin from the bag on the floor, and sat by the window. The dark brown violin was lined with soft light under the sun and he held it as if being embraced.

“I will definitely protect you.”

Kiro’s eyes were soft, and his tone was gentle and firm.

The birds outside the window chirped and landed freely on the edge of the window.

“It’s great that you are free.”

Kiro smiled and gently extended his fingertips.  

“I will be free too.”

[Chapter 6]: Free Sailing

A telephone ring broke the silence of the studio.

Kiro looked down at the phone. It was an unfamiliar number. Maybe it was from a fan somewhere, but he picked it up in a ghostly manner.

“Hello, this is PLANET Yacht Club, what can I do for you?”

Kiro was stunned. The person at the other end waited patiently for his silence. After a long time, he remembered that when he was resting on the sidewalk a while ago, he accidentally saw a magazine ad about yachts. He made a phone consultation.

However, because he needed to go to pratice immediately he asked the other party to contact him afterwards.  

Unexpectedly, it happened to be today.

“I have read your information. I have some interest in your yachts. How can I learn more about it?”

“If this is the case, you can visit our terminal directly. On which day would you like to make an appointment?”

“Is today okay?”

When Kiro said it, he was also stunned. He felt his heart beating, but he didn’t know what this feeling represented.

“Of course, we will send the address to your phone later, looking forward to your visit.”

When Kiro saw that yacht, he decided to buy it.

It was lying quietly in the corner of the entire pier, unremarkable, but in the light of the surging tide, it instantly attracted Kiro’s eyes.

Of course, the salesman saw the young boy coming to the club, obviously looking a little bit awkward and seemed to be thinking about how to politely ask him to leave.

“I want that yacht.”

Kiro didn’t leave the yacht’s sight and took out his bank card in the salesman’s dumbfounded gaze.

The boat was moored by a small harbor where there was a little old port. This was the place he saw on the way to the club.

He asked the people of the club to help him get the boat here and said that in a few days, he would come again to ask about how to operate the yacht.

It was dusk now and there were no people, only him and his boat, listening to the ebb and flow together.

The half-round sunset has fallen below the sea level. The sun is golden and far away, warmly embracing the whole world.

The yacht hasn’t been decorated yet and looks a bit simple, but Kiro doesn’t care. He feels that he has seen the future of the ship.

This is his boat, he repeats this in his heart over and over, and in the future, there will be someone who is most special to him in this world who will share it with him.

Think of it as a birthday present for yourself even though there is no cake and no birthday song today.

But this is also good.

Kiro was lying on the small deck, seagulls flying non-stop. The sky was divided into half blue and half-yellow. The boat rose and fell with the tide. He opened his arms as if he could touch the sky.

Kiro suddenly felt that he could go anywhere.

Nothing can stop him.

[End]

[pulausemakau]

five other times charsho could've become canon: an exploration

thanks @macsmchales for inspo! + thanks hulu for SOME news about s2!

one ; can we hang out again? is that uncool to ask?

shona asks charlotte out to lunch not too long after they first meet properly at the finance event; they've passed each other by before since they work in the same company, the same building, but that's the first time they really sit down together and chat

shona's almost late back to the office because they get so caught up in conversation. charlotte draws her in somehow, gets shona lost in her laughter and her turns of phrase. she's so easy to talk to, so effortlessly funny and charming

soon enough they have lunch together every day, just the two of them; they explore the area and find little hole in the wall places that nobody really patronises, that serve delicious dishes. shona steals food off charlotte's plate and charlotte just laughs and does it right back

one time they walk back to the office it's cold and they're pressed up a little closer, side by side, talking, and charlotte's hand brushes shona's; shona finds herself sliding her fingers between charlotte's and holding on tight

they stop for a cigarette before heading back up to their respective offices; charlotte kisses her after they're done smoking, impulsively, pulling her in by the collar of her coat, and shona kisses back

two ; let’s change the world, baby

they're both running on the adrenaline high of becoming business partners and also a little tipsy from several shots of tequila and sambuca

shona's suggested they take a stroll around southwark park to sober up a little and they just walk around, discussing plans for women in wealth, bouncing ideas off each other; they're not all realistic or doable but it's the night to consider crazy, wild ideas and then pare them down tomorrow

shona is making fun of charlotte for unironically enjoying sambuca and charlotte is taking it in the lighthearted spirit it's meant

they sit on a bench by the pond after a long amble down the paths, just watching human traffic go by; shona looks relaxed and happy and beautiful and charlotte can't take her eyes off her

when shona notices charlotte staring she grins and asks charlotte what she's thinking about

kissing you, charlotte says, because she's unfailingly honest with shona and because the sambuca is loosening her tongue

shona just looks back at her for a few moments, expression neutral, open, head slightly tilted, and just when charlotte thinks she's going to let her down easy she replies kiss me then

and charlotte does, under the velvet night sky, in the middle of southwark park, their futures spreading out before them, intertwining

three ; sometimes my brain’s a bit shit (nsfw)

(i mean i just wrote a whole fanfic about this i don't know what to tell you)

(but anyway)

they get back to work after their Deep Talk but not for long; the tension is lingering there from the Deep Talk and eventually they end up making out on shona's couch and then moving it to her bedroom

they're in that hazy afterglow of excellent sex, naked under shona's covers, when aine (drunk) returns home with pat (also drunk)

charlotte's the one to calm shona down and help her get pat settled on the couch and aine safely into bed; they make sure she's out like a light and her door is locked before they head back to shona's room

it feels right to have charlotte stay over in a way it never did with vish, to have charlotte be the big spoon

they don't fall asleep instantly, shona a little keyed up from telling aine off and having a stranger on her couch; charlotte traces the tattoo on her back with gentle fingertips and leaves a lingering kiss against the lines, and that grounds shona and calms her enough for her to drift off

she wakes before charlotte, watches her sleep for a while, her face peaceful and lovely in the dim light of dawn, and it's the face shona knows she wants to keep waking up to for a long time to come

four ; it’s nice to see your face

shona doesn't stay at hari and kavita's after the party; vish wants her to and gets a little upset when she says no and it escalates into a heated little argument that everyone politely pretends they don't overhear

aine and eileen know better so they don't say anything about it on the train ride back to london

after she and aine see eileen off on her train home, aine heads back to her flat but shona doesn't go back to hers. she drops by charlotte's and collapses on her couch and leans her head on charlotte's shoulder and asks why it's the 2010s and people still care so much about the babies she can produce from her womb rather than her meteoric rise in the workforce, the business she's carving out and sweating over with charlotte, things she's genuinely proud of and interested in

charlotte understands and can empathise with these grievances in a way vish doesn't and never will, and shona feels safe talking about them with her

it devolves into a conversation where shona talks out her frustrations with how it seems like everyone in her life wants more from her than herself - eileen and kavita want grandkids, vish wants a wife, aine wants her perfect big sister, and shona just wants to be herself

a long but not uncomfortable silence stretching between them as they just lean against each other and shona cools down from her slightly dramatic afternoon, until charlotte cautiously says that she, at least, doesn't want anything from shona, she's happy just knowing shona for who she is, being her friend

maybe more than friends, she eventually admits, after another silence, and shona feels like she should be taken more by surprise but she isn't, and it's the easiest thing in the world to find charlotte's hand and take it in her own and reciprocate

five ; you say that like you know what you’re talking about

they're busy all day setting up for the event and don't get a break

it's stressful but they're both high on adrenaline and so so excited that their work is coming to fruition; shona especially is seeing a dream of hers come true

little moments all throughout the day where they laugh and poke fun at each other despite the stress, the last minute chaos

they have a rushed dinner together thirty minutes before they're due to give their speeches, crammed together in a hidden back corner away from the glamorous hall where their guests are mingling; seated side by side on shitty plastic chairs, holding paper plates of catered food up to their mouths and rehearsing their speeches to each other

shona grins up at charlotte after the third time she runs through her talking points, her smile electric, telling charlotte how excited she is and how glad she is that she's doing this with her

me too, charlotte starts to say, only to be cut off by shona leaning across to close the distance between them and touching her lips to charlotte's, a brief, chaste kiss

she's flushed when she pulls back, a little guilty and embarrassed in equal measure, studying charlotte's reaction; sorry, she says, then - was that okay?

charlotte answers by kissing her back, a little longer, a little deeper

shona leans her forehead against charlotte's, after, bringing her hand to cup charlotte's cheek. whispering - i'm so glad i found you

and again, for charlotte - me too.

[fific7]

Velvet

Billy Russo x Reader

@omgrachwrites 500 Follower Celebration

Summary: This follows on from That Swept-Back Hair, approx 8 months later. Things have changed.

Warnings: TBI, memory loss, mentions of sex, angst/fluff mix.

A/N: Loosely based on S2 Billy Russo, but this is non-canon and exists solely within my imaginary Punisher AU. In fact, who is The Punisher? It’s really just The Frankie & Billy Show!

(The little double blink he does as he’s drinking gets me right in the 🖤)

(My GIF)

Your hand glided across the top and then back over Billy’s shorn velvety head, feeling the soft prickliness of the short hairs against your palm. They’d shaved his head when he’d arrived at the hospital prior to surgery.

You still weren’t totally comfortable with the new look, however you knew it’d been unavoidable, and that was that.

It had started growing back a little, and you didn’t want to think about why they were still keeping it short.

His eyelashes fluttered but his eyes remained closed; you sighed and settled yourself back against the uncomfortable seat, ready for another hour’s silent visit.

The sunlight stealing through the venetian blinds threw highlights and shadows onto Billy’s face, and you felt a sudden need to touch his skin. Your fingers ran over his face, feeling each ridge of his scars.

How was Billy going to react when he saw them, you wondered. Let’s be honest, he was a vain man and his good looks had made up a large part of his persona. You didn’t think he was going to take it very well.

It takes a lot of courage for people with disabilities, burns and scars to brave the stares and whispers of others, when all they really want to do is to hide away. The world can be a cruel place, and they have to dig down deep within themselves to find the strength to deal with it.

As you sat there with Billy’s unresponsive hand clasped in yours, your mind drifted back to an awful day, two months ago.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Two short months. How quickly everything can change in a heartbeat.

You and Billy had made a go of things after the Firefighter Affair, as Karen called it. During the six months following it, you’d found yourself in an actual, real-life relationship with Billy, much to your surprise - and intense pleasure.

He’d still spend long hours at Anvil, he had to keep building up the business and you understood that. What you weren’t so happy about was that he was still very much ’hands on’ with the assignments, as if he didn’t want to let go of the reins to a large extent. Inside, there would always be a piece of Lt. Russo, right alongside CEO Russo.

On the other hand, he had to get used to you jetting round the globe on short trips for your new job, which you were loving.

To begin with, there were sulks and jealous outbursts mainly about ’all those foreign guys’ but he chilled a little after you reassured him you had no interest in hooking up with any of them. “Better not, sweetheart,” he’d growled, dark eyes staring you down.

Both of you had made sure you spent time together in between your busy schedules; breakfasts, lunches, dinners, movies, walks and picnics in the park. Taking turns at staying over at each other’s places.

Yes, you’d breached the panther’s den, a huge victory in your mind as none of his other women had ever set foot in it. Hell, some of your clothes and toiletries had made their way into his wardrobe and bathroom, and vice versa.

And, of course, the incredible sex.

Billy was as energetic, sensual and inventive between the sheets as ever. And sometimes he was just pure caveman. You’d be showering in the morning, Billy would strut naked into the bathroom, and you’d hear, “Showering without me, sweetheart?” Hands grabbing you, arms going round you, and you’d be laying on the bath towels on the floor in an instant.

Billy, hovering above you, his body pressing down on yours, eyes gazing at you, “I think you need a little disciplining, angel,” his mouth and hands all over you. You’d thread your fingers through his hair, giving a not-so-gentle tug, there’d be an answering grunt, Billy revving up, ready to give you the best time you’d have that day.

Things were going really well, much better than you’d expected. At first, doubts had still clouded your mind about Billy’s ability to stay faithful, but... there was no evidence to the contrary, he was behaving himself and nothing but very attentive to you. You were now on his arm at every event he attended.

Then, an unexpected phone call one morning as you were getting ready for work. A hospital administrator, who said that you were receiving the call because your name and number were on Billy Russo’s emergency contact list.

Everything stopped, frozen in the moment, as you automatically assumed the worst.

Your brain finally kicked in and began to filter some of what she was saying back to you. Eventually you gathered that Billy had been caught up in an explosion and had been badly injured. Like, really badly injured. She wouldn’t give you any other details over the phone, but agreed when you asked if you could visit him. She did warn you, however, that he wasn’t conscious.

You were scrambling round your apartment, looking for jacket, shoes, bag, when your phone rang again. Karen. You picked up, and heard her trembling voice saying your name and spilling that Frank had been injured in an explosion. Again, you stopped in your tracks.

It dawned on you now why you got the phone call from the hospital, as you were sure Frank would be at the top of Billy’s contact list.

You hadn’t even thought about Frank, that he could’ve been injured too. You felt a stab of guilt.

Agreeing to meet at the hospital, you hung up, dropped a quick explanatory text to your boss, and rushed out to begin your trek over there.

You met up outside the main entrance and stepped into the chaos of the ER. Eventually you were led to a small side room and informed that the attending doctor would come and find you as soon as they could.

Both of you sat and speculated on the severity of their injuries, and what the ‘incident’ could have been. The guys didn’t discuss the nitty-gritty of their work with you, due mainly to the sensitive nature of the assignments.

Karen called into work, firstly to explain her absence and secondly, to ask if there was anything being reported as a major incident, but there was nothing.

A couple of days later, she’d managed to discover that Anvil had got a contract to bodyguard a government official from a Middle Eastern country, and dissidents from there had ambushed him on his way from the airport into the city, slamming their SUV into an escort car and causing its gas tank to explode a few minutes later. That’s what Frank and Billy managed to get caught up in.

The doctor came and collected Karen, saying that Frank was conscious but dazed, and she’d give her more details about his injuries as they walked to his room.

Once you were left alone, the wait began to feel endless. Your mind was circling like a washing machine stuck on the spin cycle; Frank was conscious, Billy wasn’t, Frank was conscious, Billy... why wasn’t Billy conscious?

Eventually, the doctor returned for you, but sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs rather than leading you to his room. She had that sympathetic but business-like look on her face, the one medical people seemed to adopt when they had bad news to impart.

You found yourself thinking that they had to maintain a bit of distance, otherwise they probably wouldn’t be able to do their job.

She started speaking, telling you that Billy had received his injuries in an explosion, and had sustained lacerations from shrapnel, a dislocated shoulder and a broken foot. But the most serious one had been a substantial concussion which had caused a small bleed on the brain, and this had required immediate surgery.

Swelling of the brain had also caused complications, and Billy had been placed into a medically-induced coma.

She’d stood up then and you’d followed her along several corridors, repeating ‘shrapnel’ over and over in your mind. The doctor had stopped outside a door with a small rectangular window inset above the handle, turning to face you.

“He’s suffered quite a lot of facial scarring, and is quite heavily bandaged... I just wanted to warn you.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Karen had texted you about 30 minutes later, asking if you wanted to stay or go.

To be quite honest, you’d be glad to leave the oppressive little room; the beeping of the machines and rhythmic clicking of the ventilator had been making you feel tense, and a headache was forming behind your eyes.

And Billy’s bandaged head and face - you felt guilty for thinking this - looked like something out of a horror movie.

The two of you met outside the main entrance and headed to a coffee shop you could see on the opposite corner. You had no idea if it had decent coffee but it surely couldn’t be any worse than the dishwater the hospital passed off as a drinkable beverage. Karen caught you up on Frank’s condition as you walked over there.

He had a couple of dislocated joints, two broken fingers, cuts and bruises. Where he’d lucked out - so to speak - was that he’d avoided getting concussed.

Once you’d got your distinctly average coffee, you relayed the details of Billy’s injuries to Karen, and she’d been shocked that he was in such a serious condition.

There was going to be a long old journey ahead to get Billy back on his feet.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

They brought Billy out of the induced coma just short of three weeks later. The brain swelling had definitely been a worry, but they weren’t keen on keeping him under much longer. However, more concerning was the fact that he didn’t wake up of his own accord once the medically induced coma was reversed.

The mummy-like bandages had been removed at the same time, revealing angry-looking red scars. The nurses had been applying oils and balm to them several times a day, and this had helped to calm them quite a lot. But you knew they were still going to be a big shock to Billy.

Frank, out of hospital by then and keeping things ticking over at Anvil, didn’t say much - as was his way - but you knew that both he and Karen were as worried as you were about this unsettling turn of events.

You tried to maintain a positive front, but on occasion found yourself literally sobbing on Karen’s shoulder when it got too much to handle.

You fell into a strange kind of half-life; working as usual then heading out to the hospital each evening to sit and talk to Billy, holding his hand. You ate at odd hours, slept erratically, disturbed by bad dreams, usually about Billy never regaining consciousness.

And so it went; work, hospital, eat, sleep, repeat. Day after soul-destroying day.

Today, at lunch-time you were on your way out to grab something to eat when your phone rang, an unknown number. Praying it wasn’t some annoying cold-caller, you picked up to find yourself speaking to a doctor from the hospital. You stopped walking; you usually didn’t hear from them, they usually had nothing new to tell you.

Three minutes later, you were running back up to your office, to let your boss know that Billy was awake and you had to get to the hospital. “Go, go, Y/N,” he said, “and keep me posted!”

In the back of an Uber, you texted Frank and Karen to give them the good news, saying you’d be in touch later once you’d been able to see him.

You really hoped the traffic wouldn’t be too bad, you were majorly anxious to get to Billy. In case he lost consciousness again before you saw him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your feet took you through the entrance hall, into the lifts and up to Billy’s floor without any conscious input from you, as you’d taken the same route so many times. You waited impatiently at the nurses’ station, your head whipping round as you heard your name.

The doctor took you into the small side room again; so, a chat before you got to see Billy. The doctor had that same look on her face.

“Billy’s awake, but he’s a little disorientated. Y/N... he’s experiencing some amnesia. From what we can gather, he thinks he’s still a serving Marine in Afghanistan.”

Your heart sank; you supposed it had been naive to think he’d wake up and things would magically be back to how they used to be.

“But that’s normal, right? After a head trauma.”

She nodded, “Yes. And all or some memory can be recovered. But as you probably know, there are no hard and fast rules about if or when that will happen. There are no guarantees when it comes to amnesia.”

You gulped, nodding to show you understood.

The doctor reached into her top pocket, bringing out a card and handing it to you. “We have a psychotherapist affiliated to the hospital, a Dr Dumont. In fact, I think she was planning to assess Billy in the next day or so. She’s got several vets on her books, I’m sure she’d be happy to take him on.”

You handed the card back to her. “Thanks, but we’ve already got counselling set up for Billy. An ex-Marine buddy of his, who supports and counsels vets. He’ll be a lot more comfortable with Curtis. Please thank her but let her know we don’t require her help.” The doctor looked a little sceptical but nodded and tucked the card away.

She stood up, waiting for you to do so and then walked with you along the familiar corridors to Billy’s room. “Has he mentioned anyone’s names when you’ve talked to him? Me, Frank, Karen?” A shake of her head, “No, sorry. As I said, he’s quite disorientated.”

You nodded, asking, “Has he seen his scars yet?” Again, she shook her head, “We thought that might be a bit too much for him on his first day awake. If he’s run his hand over his face, he’ll have felt them of course, but there are no mirrors in the room or bathroom.” You nodded, “Thanks, Doctor. I think that’s for the best. I won’t mention it unless he asks me directly.”

She left you outside the door, and taking a deep breath, you opened it and went in.

The figure in the bed had wrapped his sheets round him, right up to his neck. He was curled up on his side, facing away from the door, a defensive position it seemed. You approached the bed, feeling that he knew you were there, but there was no movement.

“Billy?” you said quietly, “it’s me, Y/N.” No response.

Then his head turned towards you, and you had your first sight of his dark eyes in a long time, gazing at you over his shoulder. But you saw instantly there was no recognition in them, and you had to look down to hide your disappointment.

He began to sit up, struggling against the sheet cocoon he’d created, and you leant forward, reshuffling his pillows. He sank back into them, still staring at you. You drank in the sight of him, awake; you’d really begun to think that he’d never regain consciousness.

“We know each other, then,” he suddenly said, a statement, not a question. Voice low and raspy, no doubt due to the recently-removed ventilator.

“We do, Billy,” you replied, “we’ve been seeing each other. An item, as they say.”

He nodded slowly, “For how long?” You pulled up a chair alongside the bed, “Six months.”

He gave a low chuckle, and now his eyes flickered up and down your body as you sat down next to him, before returning to meet your eyes. His had a slight glint in them.

“So we’ve slept together. We have good times?”

You smiled, nodding, “Very good times, Billy.”

He gave you the Billy smirk, and you knew that your Billy was definitely still in there somewhere.

His demeanour suddenly changed, he looked worried. His eyes dropped down onto his hands.

“I don’t know who you are.”

The flat statement took your breath away. You knew he didn’t recognise you, but hearing it said straight out like that hit you like a slap in the face.

He stared at you again, while you tried to arrange your face into a neutral expression. “Sorry,” he mumbled, one hand gesturing in the air at nothing.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted his hand and entwined your fingers with his, “It’s OK, it’s OK,” you said, although truthfully it wasn’t.

It hurt your heart that he didn’t recognise you, but the amnesia was to blame, and you couldn’t lay a guilt trip on him about it.

He was still gazing at you, and you continued, “I’m here, Billy and I... we.... are all here for you.” Squeezing his hand, “Me, Frank, Curtis, Karen, we’ll get you through this, I promise.”

Tears welled in his eyes, and his fingers gripped yours.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Once back in the privacy of your apartment, you filled in the others on a group call. Frank rumbled down the phone, “So he thinks he’s still serving?” “Apparently so. That’s what he told the doctor. I didn’t want to push it on my first visit. I’m heading back later and I’ll try to talk to him a bit more.” Karen asked if he knew about the scarring yet, and you said no, he’d admitted he was in quite a bit of pain, but all over, not just his face.

Curtis butted in at that point, saying that some of his guys had mentioned this Dr Dumont you’d told them about. “Yeah, she’s got some... weird ideas, they said. Masks and shit.” What? You asked him to elaborate and he’d told you the little he knew. “Well, I’m glad I kicked that idea into touch,” you replied, “none of that stuff is gonna help Billy get better, I’m sure of that.”

When you got back to the hospital, Billy was sitting up in bed, and spent the first five minutes you were in the room just staring intently at you. You’d gently questioned him as to how he was feeling, was he eating, drinking, sleeping, but got no response.

Then he’d shaken his head, as if trying to clear it, and asked, “Am I still in Afghanistan?”

You and he then spent a little time talking about what he remembered, probing to see how far back his memories went. He did think he was still in the Marines, thought he was on a tour, but couldn’t remember who he was serving with, could see some faces but didn’t recall names. You were keen to get Frank and Curtis in to see him, maybe it would help if he was face to face with them.

You could see he was getting tired, so you pushed your chair back, about to stand up, when his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. It was such a Billy thing to do, you heard yourself gasp.

He looked at you, then down at his hand on your wrist, “Shouldn’t I have done that?” You smiled, “It’s just such a normal thing for you to do it took me by surprise, Billy.”

“I’m always grabbin’ your wrist?” You laughed out loud, “Amongst other things!”

He laughed too, and you were so happy to hear that sound.

“We need to be talking about all-a that.” He tugged on your wrist, “And I reckon I need a kiss.”

You shook your head, smiling, “Maybe soon, Billy, right now you need to concentrate on getting better.”

“But I think it’d help!” giving you a sly side-eye, “jog my memory.”

You leant in, “How can you think about kissing when you’ve been through a major trauma?!” but you were craving the closeness with him, after weeks without it.

His hand suddenly went from your wrist to the nape of your neck, pulling you half on top of him, and you were thinking that some things didn’t change when his lips met yours.

You’d been imagining a fairly quick, chaste ‘getting to know you again’ kiss, so you were surprised when you felt his tongue sneaking past your lips, his other hand moving smoothly onto the swell of your breast, massaging firmly, and you could feel his arousal under you.

You pushed back, looking at him with a smile.

“Marine! Stand down.”

It was a stupid cheesy thing you’d always said to him, even before you were properly dating.

He stared at you, his thumb stroking your bottom lip, “That.. what you just said. It feels familiar.”

You nodded, “That’s good, Billy... I’m happy about that, I say it to you all the time. It’s our little joke.”

He lay back on his pillows, mood changing suddenly, staring at you. “Why d’you shove me away? I was kissin’ you, had my hands on you, wasn’t that familiar to you, Y/N?”

You stroked his arm. “Billy, I didn’t shove you away. I just need you to remember that you’ve suffered a major trauma, you need to be calm, concentrate on getting better...” He was looking tired, head nestling back into his pillows.

You stood up, picking up your bag, “I’m gonna head home now, let you get your rest. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” You leant forward and kissed his temple, “Sleep well.”

His eyes were already closed as you pulled back from the kiss.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The four of you met up at the hospital mid-morning the next day. Karen and Curtis sat down on chairs in the corridor, while you and Frank headed into Billy’s room.

You stopped in your tracks in the doorway, Frank bumping into you. There was a small, dark-haired woman sitting on a chair, side on to the door, with a clipboard on her knees.

But what had you both frozen to the spot was the sight of Billy, dressed in a tracksuit, sitting on a chair opposite her. He had a pure white mask on; two eye holes, a fully-formed nose, small slit for the mouth. It was damn scary-looking.

You took a few steps into the room, “Who are you?” you challenged the woman, although you had a good idea already. “And why is my boyfriend wearing that weird mask?”

She stared at you, “Boyfriend? Oh.. I didn’t realise...”

You decided to drop the innocent act. “Are you Dr Dumont? Because if you are, you can take your clipboard and your mask and get out of here. I asked the doctor yesterday to tell you that we already have counselling in place for Billy.”

“Well, yes she did, but about that... to be honest that’s why I decided to..” she looked over at Billy, “assess him in any case. I don’t feel that the counselling you mention would be right for...”

“Doctor!” you hissed, and she stopped talking. “You are treading a very thin line here. I haven’t asked or authorised you to see Billy, so I will ask you again, please take your theatre props and go.”

You’d walked over to Billy as you’d been talking, and stripped the mask off him, holding it out to her. Billy’s wide dark eyes were gazing up at you.

She stood up and snatched the mask from you, placing it on top of her clipboard. With a very condescending smile, she said, “I’m telling you, you’re making a big mistake.”

“Get out! Now,” you said, glaring at her.

The door banged shut behind her, and you said as Frank walked over to you, “Unbelievable! Billy’s had a lucky escape from that quack, I reckon.”

Frank nodded, placing his beefy paw on Billy’s shoulder. Billy’s eyes were searching his face.

“Bill,” Frank growled, “‘s me, Frankie. I’m here for ya.” He tightened his grip on the shoulder under his hand. “I got your back, bud.”

You could both tell that he didn’t yet recognise Frank. But he did recognise the comfort the words gave him.

“Frankie,” he murmured.

Then he looked to you. “Y/N?...right?” You nodded, fighting to keep your expression blank. Still not sure of you, even your name. You caught Frank sending you a sympathetic glance.

You took his hand, rubbing your thumb over his skin. Billy had a puzzled look on his face as he looked up at you.

“Why’d she put that mask on me, Y/N? My face hurts. Don’t I look good?”

Your mouth drew into a line, and you quickly glanced at Frank.

“Billy, you look as good as you always did.”

“Did I look good?”

“Yes, you looked so handsome,” you replied, “a beautiful man.”

That small smile, dark eyes sparkling at you.

“And do I still look good?”

You ran your hand down the back of his velvety head, feeling him shiver as your fingers trailed onto his neck, pleased with his response to your touch.

“Yes, you do, Billy,” you answered honestly, because as far as you were concerned, he did.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Additional A/N: DUMONT 🥊 POW! 🥊 how it would’ve gone down if I’d written S2 😉 And thank you Tumblr for totally eating the draft of this last night, really enjoyed re-typing it.

[samwritesforyou]

Booked

Diego x reader (the whole family is present at the beginning but as time goes on becomes more Diego-centric)

Summary: You have a summer house that is far away from any big cities, you’ve inherited it from your great-great-parents and you want to prove to your friends that you cannot possibly make an income out of it. So you submit the house at booking dot com for the lowest price possible. Your plan was working for years and you’ve been happy and content just by growing your own food and participating in the village’s community, completely forgetting about the offer you presented on booking. Until one day, seven siblings arrive at your place, saying they reserved themselves the whole house for the eternity of summer.

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, swear words (? but just a couple, mainly from Five)

Wordcount: 3.7k

A/N: settling is post s2, so everyone looks accordingly. umbrella academy gets back into the timeline where no umbrella nor the sparrow academy exists, yet the world is still ending. mostly written out of nostalgia for my own summer house that my family sold years ago and i will never come back there, so i want it to live on at least somewhere

Summers were always hot in this little village that you lived in, especially with the climate change looming over humanity’s ignorant heads.

So you were actually relieved that you finally persuaded a local technician to help you fix the fridge that stopped freezing its insides for good two weeks already.

You just handed her the cash and waved her goodbye, also giving the lady a basket with apples and peaches that grew in your garden. You don’t have enough people eating your fruits and most of it goes into jams anyways.

You waited a little until her car disappeared into the horizon of the bumpy road near your house, seeing as it even got blurry in the end, as the air was literally melting the reality in front of your eyes.

With a swift movement you adjusted a cap on your head, went out of the creaky gate - which green color was peeling off into the original black metal that it was made with - and closed it behind yourself with a happy hum.

It was a twenty minutes walk to the nearest convenience store and it gave you just enough time to ponder about the recent weird thing that happened to you.

About three days ago you just got a random payment come to your bank account.

15 Euros. That was it.

No note, no name.

You decided to let it be, even though it did stir your mind in various ways.

Normally, when something like this happens, the bank realises the mistake in the recipient and takes the money back within 24 hours.

Either the person who sent it didn’t care that it went to the wrong place or bank decided to be generous with you.

Whatever the reason was, those 15 Euros could be used now to buy yourself a little more sweets than you usually do.

You never had to complain about how little money you actually have from living here and being more or less self-sufficient, but some random extra cash will make anyone smile in this capitalistic hell that you tried so hard to escape from.

.

.

After you came home you started sorting out groceries that you’ve bought, putting them into the right places.

Upon finishing you just plopped yourself on the bench near the big abandoned table in the room, looking around.

This house used to be alive. With a lot of your family members running around, making noise, sometimes fighting, but always generally just enjoying the good time at this place.

At the end of the extended room was a window, showing you the rest of the garden that you lovingly cared for every single day.

Under the window was a spacious kitchen counter, with a fridge and shelves for ingredients next to it. Then there was the entrance to one of the unused bedrooms with one bed pushed against the wall, which in turn was covered by a red hanging carpet. On a wall, yes.

You stopped tracing the room around with your eyes as you heard some rummaging coming from the outside.

After easily springing to your feet you saw black dots in front of you and your head was spinning. Damn you, iron deficiency!

A few seconds passed and you were collected again, rushing out towards the gates to the property.

You stopped in your tracks as you saw five people literally barging through your piece of land with suitcases and bags, bickering with each other.

Oh, nope. They were six, actually. A very tiny figure closed the gate after all of them made it in and started clumsily going forward on a tiny tartan road that lead all the way to the summer house.

“Klaus, stop fucking pushing around and help me with the bags, maybe?” said a man with longer curly hair and a goatee, clearly agitated at another person, who wasn’t holding anything except some bottle in their hand.

“Oh cut it, you two! We’re almost in the house, come on,” said a woman with straight black hair in the flowery dress and then she noticed that someone blocks their way.

Her eyes landed on you.

“Um... hello?” she said with an awkward smile, attempting a wave in your direction and continued, “are you the owner? We booked your house until the rest of the summer like.. a few days ago.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open in the “o” shape, trying to grasp the reality.

So.... someone really booked your summer house after several years of no traction from booking and you had no clue.

That’s what the payment was for!

But..

“Oh,” you said, not knowing how to proceed about the situation, “well, you see.. um... I have nowhere to stay? This is my only home,” you started timidly, rubbing your hands together.

“Oh,” the woman seemed surprised and confused but quickly collected herself, “well, if you have enough beds to keep us all in then it’s no problem, I guess?”

“Yeah? Alright, great!” You smiled at the whole “squad” and looked at them all.

“Uhm.. my name is y/n! Welcome to my summer house, I guess,” you put your hands into the back pockets and shook your head a little into the direction of the house.

“Allison, nice to meet you,” the woman you talked to said, smiling invitingly.

“Diego,” almost spat the guy with the goatee.

“Klaus, darling,” said the person with the bottle in their hand, widening his arms in an invisible hug.

“Luther,” mumbled a big man in the back of them all.. he looked like he’s been through something.

Actually, they all do.

“Vanya,” chirped a girl behind the big- Luther, the corners of her lips lifting ever so lightly.

“Five,” said a child in the front, looking unusually angry, suddenly shortening the distance between the two of you, “as long as you’re out of our business you’re good to stay,” he literally sneered at you, pushing past you and going inside.

That left you kinda shook, but then Allison just apologised for “their brother”, so you decided to ask another question:

“So you’re all a family?”

“Yes, we’re all siblings. Adopted,” she said, actually following you inside, not as the little guy before who let himself in without even knowing the place.

“I think my place is not the best for so many people to sleep at though..” you said quietly, biting your lip.

“That’s why it was so cheap..” Luther wondered, looking around.

You had to calm yourself so you didn’t snap at your guest. You didn’t even know anyone would ever book your house, damn! What were you supposed to do?

In the end you spent some time showing them the rooms, starting with the first one that contained an old-fashioned sink and the water tank near it, which you needed to manually fill up with water, and the drain led to the bucket under it.

Very simple.

In the back of the room there was a dining table, on one side surrounded by the bench and the other with some mismatching chairs.

From this space you proceeded into the extended “hallway” that you stared at before your peace and quiet was ruined.

There was also an ancient literal furnace, on top of which you could actually lay on, you know, as in all the fairytales.

After that, there was another room entrance that contained two beds on each side (one of them pushed under the window), similar to the other room and a coffee table in the middle of the area.

When you all went back to the first place, there was a wooden staircase that led to the second floor.

There were two rooms. One had a king sized bed in the middle of the space, with a closet and various tables around the whole area.

The other one had a working table and a bed in the corner.

“And that is the end of the tour!” you proclaimed, as everyone got seated by the big table in the extended room, while you were making everyone tea and preparing some snacks.

“Great, I sleep on the furnace!” Klaus exclaimed, putting his hands in the air animatedly.

“I guess we can fit all of us in here, actually,” Allison was clearly thinking aloud, counting the members of the family and available sleeping places.

“You’re gonna take one of the beds, right?” she said, pointing at you.

“Uh.. yes! Upstairs, I think. The one with the small bed and a table,” you smiled at her and she nodded.

“Then I’ll be sleeping with Vanya in the king-sized bed and you guys can fight for who’s going to end up sharing the room,” Allison concluded, clearly enjoying herself.

“Funny of you to think I’ll have enough time to sleep, in our situation,” said Five, suddenly coming out from the doorframe into the room.

You didn’t even mention that he wasn’t there when you were explaining the plan of the house.

“What situation? There should always be time to sleep,” you chipped in, carefully smiling at the boy.

“Stay the fuck out of our business, I said,” he gritted through his teeth at you, which left you blinking in surprise as he went away again, out of sight.

“How... old is he again?” you asked with the confusion that a kid would be so rude to a stranger like this.

All of them kind of nervously laughed or mumbled something that you couldn’t understand.

“It’s complicated,” said Vanya, smiling at you reassuringly.

How the fuck an age of your own brother is complicated?..

You heard the fancy-looking woman - Allison - sigh heavily and turn to you, shrugging.

“It’s just.. when our parents adopted him, he freshly got into the orphanage so he didn’t even have any documents about his birthday, blood type or anything. Apparently, he was really abused by his biological parents. Or whoever else, we don’t even know.”

“Oh.. I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly, biting your lip. Didn’t expect to poke into any painful subjects.

“It’s okay, really, we’ve learned how to take proper care of him,” Allison said, putting her hand on your back with a smile.

When you excused yourself to continue with gardening and went outside, Allison just shook her head.

“Who says ‘it’s complicated’ when someone asks you about their sibling’s age, Vanya?” said Allison in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would settle the matter..” she muttered, playing with her fingers anxiously.

“It’s okay..” she smiled at her sister and then looked around the whole table, “look we’re here for the whole summer, so I think it would be better if we somehow told the owner at least partially about our powers so we’re not hiding all the time. We came here to have a safe space where we could train after all, am I right?” she looked expectantly at Luther who immediately started nodding along, agreeing.

“Or maybe,” started saying Klaus, already getting up from his seat and trying to crawl onto the furnace, skinny legs already dangling in the air, “we can just tell them we’re the umbrella academy, don’t you think?” he concluded, facing a wall with his face.

“But we checked that the umbrella academy doesn’t exist in this universe.. nor any other replacement of us,” reminded her siblings Vanya, fingers still intertwined on the table, firmly put together.

“I’m sure we’ll tell them one way or another,” said Diego, getting up just like his brother, making his way a bit further though, his objective clearly being the fridge.

He opened it and smirked at the beer present there, taking one can with him. His eyes then wondered to the window at the end of the room and he stepped closer, inspecting what is outside.

Apparently it was still their new home’s property, as he saw y/n working in the garden, repotting some plants under the tree.

His gaze stayed on them as he thought about various topics in his head, but then he decided to go out of the house, jumping down the wooden stairs leading to the tartan road, framing the whole garden.

You heard steps behind you, turning your head away from the the plants, only to meet a tall man in front of you, with a can in his hand.

“Hey, uhm..” he nervously put his hand on his neck, scratching it, “I just wanted to ask if it’s cool if I take some beer from the fridge?” he lifted the other hand with the mentioned item, giving it a little shake.

“It’s cool,” you replied, smiling softly at him, and then getting back to work, grabbing the plant by the root, moving it to another hole in the ground.

“Okay..” he retorted, biting his lower lip and scanned the area with his dark eyes.

There was an abandoned greenhouse with broken walls, greenery growing all around it, just next to the fence of the property. To its left was a wooden toilet booth with a typical round-shaped hole in the higher part of the door.

“I’m really sorry, by the way,” you started talking again, now finally done with your objective of the day, now plopping yourself next to Diego on the bench that he was chilling at, the surface creaking from the added weight, “I really thought nobody would *ever* rent this place,” you shrugged with a smile, now looking in front of yourself, closing your eyes and letting sunshine illuminate your face.

“Well.. uh.. then why did you put up on that website anyways?” he asked, clear confusion in his voice.

You sighed, shifting your body a little, getting into more comfortable sitting position, “It was a bet I made with my friends back in the day. A few years ago they told me I could actually rent this place and get income from it, not having to work a day in my life! Yet i told them that it’s not possible, and I wanted to prove that I was right by putting the advertisement,” you finished, finally opening your eyes, tilting your head at your new acquaintance.

You caught him staring at you, so he quickly turned away, now getting quite a violent sip out of the beer can.

“You should’ve put some timing on that bet then.. Let’s say, if it doesn’t get traction after two years you’ll finally delete the posting,” he said, after gulping some liquid.

That made you laugh and you couldn’t look away from him. His features were so.. delicate.

“Yeah, you’re actually right!” you admitted, slapping your thighs in excitement.

“Diego, my precious brother!” you two suddenly heard from the entrance to the house.

You lifted your eyes and saw a slender confide getting closer to you both, the man walking barefoot.

“Five said we’re all needed for a ‘family meeting’,” the guy literally put an air quotes with his free hand that wasn’t holding a glass, saying it in the mockingly serious tone, “so you better come with me and stop bothering this lovely person, alright?” he then proceeded sweetly, extending a hand towards Diego with a wide smile.

“God.. alright,” he answered and to your surprise took his hand, now brothers going away into the house, Diego briefly looking back at you, “Let’s talk later.”

You just nodded, finding yourself still smiling long before they were gone.

What is this funny feeling in the pit of your stomach?..

And why is one of their family members called by a number instead of a name?!

.

.

It was only the second day of your coexistence with the Hargreeves but it was already a wild ride.

Normally your morning looked like this;

You would wake up at a reasonable hour, maybe like.. 9am. You would go down the stairs from your room and make yourself some breakfast. While eating you’d either read a book or just listen to some music from your phone.

Then you’d do daily tasks, so taking care of the garden or some house maintenance, or both.

Then you’d do everything special that needs to be done only once in a while: a meeting with a friend, grocery shopping, attending a meeting with your neighbours where you decide on further upgrades of the village.

Then you’d draw some commissions, if there were any and after all of this you’d have late lunch that normally turned into dinner, concluding your day with doing your hobbies or rarely taking out your laptop and browsing the internet.

“Rise and shiiine!” you heard somewhere from downstairs, for some reason that person was also ringing a bell, making you immediately sit up in your bed.

You turned your head towards the mirror that hung across your sleeping space on the wall and you could see your hair standing up in different directions, cowlick upon cowlick.

You also felt tired, kind of not used to that feeling and shifted your half-closed eyes to the alarm clock near you.

It was... a bit past 7am. Who are those people to wake up that early?!

You lazily got up from the bed, yawning and stretching your arms up, feeling a few cracks here and there.

“Good morning!” first half of the sentence was muffled by the closed door to your room, but that quickly changed as it burst open, Klaus marching right in, his voice now uncomfortably loud for your sleepy ears, “I thought it would be nice to have breakfast all together and make you feel a part of the family, wouldn’t it?” he said with a genuine smile, looking at you.

You were sitting on your bed in pyjamas, hair all over the place, most unamused expression on the face, eyes half opened.

“Not a morning person?” he mused, tilting his head at you, “well, feel free to join or sleep more, I wouldn’t judge,” he continued and you saw in literal slow motion as he lifted his hand with a bell in hand, shaking it hard as he marched out of your room just in the same manner as he came in just seconds ago.

“BREAKFAST!!” he yelled with at least two octaves lower at his siblings, still ringing the bell that now was resonating in your brain in a highest pitch possible, making your head hurt.

Great morning.

But despite the general morning grumpiness you did find it endearing that Klaus decided to include you in their activities, making you feel less alone and - quite funnily - welcomed in your own house.

You slowly went down the stairs, hearing the lower floor full of different voices and it made your heart clench. You immediately thought of your family that made it feel alive like this in the past and a warm smile appeared on your face, as the Hargreeves huddled up around the smaller table in the room you descended from the stairs into, all making your appearance feel natural.

“Good morning,” you passed Luther that nodded in your direction alongside the phrase, as you went into the bigger room, seeing Allison cooking by the stove, window open.

“Oh hey, you’re up,” she said with a smile, “can you pass me some milk?” she asked, extending her hand into the air, already expecting said item.

“Sure!!” you hurriedly opened the fridge, giving her the thing she requested and she continued cooking.

You slowly looked around, seeing a blanket and some different things like cigarette boxes and teddy bears on top of the furnace, which made you realise that someone from the family has clearly claimed it to be their place for sleeping and you found it adorable.

“You can go sit with the others, I’ll bring it all in when it’s ready, Allison said, adjusting her black hair so it didn’t get in the way of preparing food.

“Oh.. okay!” you chirped, with a smile going back to the first room, and finding an empty seat between Diego and Klaus.

You almost sat already when Klaus sprang to his feet and took you by the shoulders, making you freeze on the spot, eyes wide.

“Klaus?” you asked, confused, “is that seat taken?”

“By Allison,” Diego quickly responded before his brother had any chance to and then the skinny man sat back on his chair, nodding with an awkward smile on his face.

“Yes, exactly. Sorry y/n,” he sighed and shrugged, clearly playing along Diego’s words, but you just let it go.

Instead you sat next to Luther, whom already opened his mouth but Vanya looked at him with a forced smile, raising a brow. At that, the big guy closed his mouth again, without making a sound.

Something.. is weird here. You shifted a bit in your seat, biting your lower lip.

The kid wasn’t here at all, you just noticed.

Then finally Allison came with the food and your anxiety lessened, as everyone started cheering for wonderful pancakes that she made.

She already wanted to sit on the seat that the guys told you was reserved for her, when suddenly Klaus did the same to her as he did to you.

“Klaus,” Diego hissed in a low voice.

Allison just looked at her brother, expression just as confused as yours was.

“What?” Allison deadpanned, putting a hand to her hip.

There was a brief second of silence until Klaus just burst into an emotional speech.

“Look, I know we’re all pretending that we’re normal in front of y/n but you all know that Ben always sits next to me and he’s sitting here right now, yet you all wanna make it seem like he doesn’t exist? I’m sorry that he’s a ghost, I’m sure he didn’t want to die either!” then after a moment he added, “Right, brother dear?” looking at an empty space near him.

Your brain clearly wasn’t catching up to what was just being said.

Pretending to be normal?..

“Great. Just fucking great, Klaus. I bet Ben would move, understanding the situation!” Allison waved her hands at him and the chair next to him with an annoyed voice.

“We just blew our cover, guys,” said Diego with pursed lips, looking absentmindedly at the table filled with food.

Soon enough they all started arguing and only when there was a sudden blue light in the room, and the kid appeared literally out of the thin air in front of your eyes, everyone fell silent, looking at him.

“Guys, I just did a search around the neighbourhood and—“ his blue eyes met with yours, full of shock and denial of what you just saw, “shit.”

He clicked his tongue and frowned and that was positively the last thing you remember before losing consciousness, everything around you turning black.

Too much of supernatural for one morning, that’s for sure.

Precious taglist:  @radcloudenthusiast​,  @spacenerdpascal​

NEXT PART→

[scullydubois]

Only the Light: Ch. 10

10/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: s2, ep 12, Aubrey (post-ep) | T (for now?) | 4.5k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic

Missy accompanies Scully to a doctor's appointment. Afterward, Missy confronts Scully about her feelings for Mulder, and Scully slips-up on the phone.

-----------------------------

She digs through her suitcase, searching for the business card she tucked in the pocket with her underwear. A sharp edge penetrates her skin, stings immediately. Her fingers close around the paper card and pull it out. A thin red cut traces the length of her middle finger, blood begging to seep out. She ignores it and grabs the phone off her nightstand, plugging in the number for the Aubrey Motel. 

As she’s dialing, she realizes that it’s already past lunchtime in DC, and even though Missouri is an hour behind, there’s no way Mulder is in his room. She lets it ring anyway, then asks the man who answers for room 12. He patches her through, and sure enough, the line rings until it gives up. 

Impressed by her own newfound patience, Scully hangs up and dials Mulder’s cell instead. She’s not exactly sure why she didn’t just do this in the first place; maybe she likes the idea of Mulder being stationary without her, stuck in his room like a lost little boy with no one to guide him. Her heart sinks when she thinks about Mulder gallivanting around Aubrey, solving the case like there’s nothing to it, like he could have been doing it by himself all this time. She wants him to need her. Naturally, she is ashamed of this desire.

She hits the call button and waits while an invisible force shoots across states and connects her to her partner. She does not have to wait long; he answers after the first ring.

“Hello?” He sounds the same as always. Simultaneously there and drifting, one body split between two minds. 

“Mulder, it’s me.” 

“Hey Scully.” There is a lightness in his voice now, like a balloon cut free of its tether. He is smiling, she thinks...She hopes.

“I just wanted to let you know I made it home safely…” She trails off, not wanting to stop talking to him, but finding herself with nothing else to say. 

“I’m glad, Scully.” He always addresses her by name more when they are apart. This is a comfort to both of them. “How’s Melissa?”

Scully looks through the doorway, confirming that her sister is nowhere near to cause any antics. “She’s alright.” She deals in half-truths. “We’re going to the doctor later to get an x-ray, but I think it’s just a sprain.” 

“Well, keep me updated. I found a lead on the case--Harry Cokely, the suspect of one of the 1945 murders. I’m on my way to see him. He’s been out of jail since ‘93.”

Scully gulps. “Are you alone?”

“Uh-huh.” He senses her tension through the line. “But I’ll be fine, Scully, he’s an old geezer now. What kind of agent am I if I can’t defend myself against an eighty year old?”

“You could have taken BJ with you.”

“And put a pregnant woman in the line of fire? I’ll be fine, Scully. They wouldn’t have let him out if he were still a danger.”

“Okay, Mulder.” This is not what she means, but it has already been a long day, and there is too much left of it to get into an argument with him. 

“I might be able to come back tomorrow,” she blurts out, as if saying it will make it more true. “...I’d like to come back tomorrow.”

“Take all the time you need, Scully. I’ve got this.”

She knows he is trying to be accommodating-- though he so rarely is--but his casual manner confirms her worst fears about her own superfluity. “I want to work, Mulder, you know that.”

“I’m not gonna stop you.” Then, his voice uneven, suspecting but not willing to confront--”Just take care of Melissa--and yourself--okay?”

She nods into the phone. “I will.”  She is staring at the barrel of Mulder’s metaphorical gun, knowing he won’t shoot, almost wishing he would. Bleeding out feels like the simple solution. “Bye, Mulder.”

She is leaving so soon, he thinks, grateful to have had her voice accompanying him on the trip. “Bye, Scully. Call the motel tonight, will you?”

“Alright.” She kills the line, each extra second another thorn in her side, a lie allowed to linger. Sin multiplying.

She stands there, clasping the phone in her hand and feeling like a stranger to herself. Her sister thought she should tell him before she flew a thousand miles and let an hour fall between them, and she disobeyed. What Melissa didn’t understand was that vulnerability is not a word in her and Mulder’s shared language. There’s no way to spell out the situation, even if she had wanted to. And she didn’t want to at the time. Or rather, she had wanted to so badly that it was dangerous, that she knew she risked more pain by telling than by withholding. She would have had to invent new words in their language, expand its bounds, and who knows what would come next. Give someone the language to express their feelings, and they will say them. And what then?

She is scared of her own feelings--and his too--because she knows that admitting means losing, somewhere down the road, and she doesn’t ever want to be without him. If she had never met him, she would never have to live without him. This is the gun that is always pressed to her head. She and Mulder are both holding the trigger.

She doesn’t know if he has such a gun against his temple, thinks that maybe he doesn’t, hopes so at least. There have been others for him, she knows this. Phoebe and...well, Phoebe’s the only one she’s met, and she wasn’t that impressive. But he’s a good-looking guy, and a good guy at that, and the whispers of a dark-haired woman who broke his heart float up and down the hallways of the Hoover building. He doesn’t tell, and Scully won’t ask because she worries that the mystery woman is the gun he holds against his own head.

She sets the phone back in its receiver, tired of thinking about guns and triggers and brains blown out. For now, she is in one piece--she’s pretty sure--and she would like to stay that way for as long as her soul will let her.

Her sister calls from down the hallway. “Dana, are you ready?”

Scully managed to book a last-minute appointment with her OB-GYN, thanks to Missy’s insistence that it was an emergency. Personally, she wouldn’t use such a strong word--I mean, it’s not like she’s hemorrhaging or anything. It’s the absence of blood that’s the problem. But there are tests, scans, and probing of the like that can be done, and once Scully admitted this her sister would not drop the issue. Off to every woman’s favorite place they go. 

--------

The waiting room is a stepping stone, a purgatory, a beginning and an ending rolled into one. She has been here before, many times. In the past, it felt like an inconvenience, not a threat.

She makes an appointment every year, does everything exactly as she is supposed to do in between, and still she is here and scared. She is careful as careful comes, as prepared as one petite woman alone in the world can be. She can dislocate a jaw, strike a man’s legs out from under him, break a nose. And yet, and yet, and yet...Who first uttered “fairness,” thought it existed on this Earth?

Even so, the consolation of knowing lingers in the distance. Like the minutes between calling 911 and the ambulance arriving. Help is on the way. The nightmare will end, or it will settle in. Lucky or unlucky. Win or lose.

Scully is not sure what she wants to hear. Three tests is quite definitive; pregnancy is unlikely. And what else is there? That her cycle has been thrown off by stress, that it’ll come back on its own time, don’t worry about it? That’s no comfort. She doesn’t want something to be wrong with her, but she knows something’s not right, and what’s worse than knowing that you don’t know? She and Mulder have lived in that hell for years. She can handle mysteries of the outside world, but what a cruel trick for her own body to blockade her. 

Missy nudges her from the adjacent vinyl seat, elbow meeting bicep. “What are you thinking about?”

“How my mind doesn’t know what’s going on with my own body,” Scully replies dryly. “I mean, I know I have a tendency to close myself off, but I’ve cloistered myself so much I no longer know what I am.”

Melissa frowns. “Don’t you mean who? Who you are?”

“No.” Scully shakes her head, looks at her lap. In her darkest thoughts and most blistering nightmares, she is not human anymore. They desecrate her, ravage her body, and leave a memento in her skin, a touch of them. It’s so vivid it might be a memory. Mulder wants an alien; he may have one. That would be ironic, huh? 

Can you learn to believe in yourself when you become something you never thought existed?

Can you still believe in God?

Every job she has dreamed of doing involves solving. Knowing enough to know what you don’t know, then figuring that out. Taking the pencil lines, shading them in. Seeking and finding and never wondering why. She cannot keep this up. There has got to be a meaning.

It is not enough, anymore, to simply wonder for the sake of wondering. To cast light over the darkness because you are tired of the darkness. Why? Is she doing it for Mulder, for the traumatized twelve-year boy locked inside him? Is she doing it for herself, fending off the fallibility, reconciling her belief with proof so that she can get off her own back? Or is she doing it because she was told to, because she is still the daddy’s girl who wants to please? 

Twenty-nine years, and she is still coming to terms with herself. We are all our own x-file. We are all taking ourselves apart and piecing ourselves back together and looking for meaning and losing our minds. 

Missy reaches over the wooden arm of the seat and pats Scully’s hand. Scully is reminded that she hasn’t yet ruled out the possibility that her sister is a mind-reader.

“Dana?” a nurse calls. Her first name feels so secondary that Scully feels certain they’re calling someone else.

“Right here!” Missy responds, getting up and pulling her sister along with her. Scully tugs her sister’s sleeve like a child might, wonders if Missy has ever considered motherhood. 

Once in the corridor, they separate. The nurse takes Scully to get her vitals checked, while Melissa seeks out waiting room D, where the nurse’s flat voice--already tired from hours on the job--told her to wait.

It is not long before her sister joins her there.

“How was it?” Missy asks before Dana even manages to sit down.

Scully shrugs. She turns her left hand to show the pink bandaid on her index finger. “My iron levels are above average.”

“That’s not serious, right?”

“No, it’s usually a good thing.”

They sit quietly, listening to the staticky alt rock song coming through the speakers. They are alone in this particular area, but nurses and doctors bustle just around the corner from them.

Scully regards her sister with a latent curiosity. “Have you ever thought about having children?”

Missy turns to her, laughs. “What?”

Scully is somewhat perturbed by her sister’s nonchalant reaction. “Do you want to be a mother?” she reiterates. “It’s not something we’ve talked about since we were kids, so I was wondering.”

“If my life unfolds that way, then surely I think I’d enjoy it. But I’m not prioritizing it.”

“Ahh.” Her sister has always had a particular reverence for destiny. 

“And besides,” Missy continues, “it could be hard, you know, with Trinity and all.”

It takes Scully a moment to realize what she means. “Oh.” That’s something she’s never had to worry about herself. She runs her finger along the grooves of her bandaid, feels her heart clench up for her sister. “There’s always adoption.”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s a long, drawn-out process from what I’ve heard.”

“Mmm.” Scully nods, wondering how two women could have two such conflicting problems. 

Before she can voice the irony of this, another nurse pops out from around the corner, peers at a clipboard. “Dana Scully?” Her voice is bright and chipper.

“That’s me,” Scully says, raising a hand to show the bandaid, her battle scar.

“I’ll show you to your room.”

Missy pats Dana’s shoulder as she stands up. “I’ll stay here. Come get me if you need me.”

“Okay,” Scully breathes, grateful to be given her space yet to know support is right around the corner.

----------------

For someone that went to medical school--and enjoyed it, for that matter--Scully always feels much too out of place in a gynecology office. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before. In textbook diagrams, in wall art, in her own flesh. Yet the 3D model of the reproductive system, the color-coded illustration of the uterus, and the various pamphlets on everything from STDs to birth control to what to expect postnatal smother her, serving as a fresh reminder that Catholicism’s tendency to repress haunts her still. She’s more bothered by her involuntary discomfort than what she sees. 

Dr. Zapolsky enters, easing some of Scully’s nerves immediately. Tall and dark-skinned, she has been practicing medicine for 20 years, and Scully has been seeing her since she moved to Washington. She can be intimidating if you don’t know her, but she’s honest and extremely competent, two things Scully requires of her doctors. And herself.

“Hello, Dana.” Scully sits up straighter as the woman’s voice hits her eardrums. She’s admired Dr. Zapolsky for years, seeing her as an exemplary figure, someone that might have been a mentor to her had she put her medical degree to work. “What can I do for you today?”

There are few things Scully hates as much as being the patient. If she’s the patient, that means she has failed at being her own doctor. That means she didn’t know--and worse--didn’t think she could figure it out on her own.

She wrings her hands. “My cycle is over a week late, which is very concerning considering that it’s always been timely. I’ve been having migraines and nausea and nightmares, and I just know something is wrong.”

Dr. Zapolsky drops Scully’s file on the counter. “Well, the pregnancy portion of your urine test came back negative.”

“I took three drugstore pregnancy tests too, and they were all negative. That’s why I’m here.”

“Have you had any notable lifestyle changes over the past few months?” Dr. Zapolsky asks. “Anything out of the ordinary? Stress is a major contributor to fluctuations in the menstrual cycle, as I’m sure you know.”

Scully nods, gathers herself. Dr. Zapolsky is oblivious to the rabbithole she has just fallen into. “I was, um, abducted, about eight weeks ago, and I have no memory of it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dana.” Dr. Zapolsky wheels her stool beside the medical chair. “We have a bit of catching up to do.”

“Yes,” Scully looks at her feet. They dangle a few inches above the tile like a child’s. Nothing new. She glances back at her doctor. “There isn’t much to say. I don’t know anything about what happened.”

“Well, tell me what you do know.” Then, seeing the apprehension on Scully’s face--”I’m not trying to play therapist, I just want to understand.”

Scully blinks slowly to keep from crying. It goes like this, it always does: she can manage the trauma until she has to say it out loud. This is a story no one wants to be in, but everyone wants to hear.

“I was taken by a man involved in a case that I worked on. Well, that my partner worked on, actually. I got involved--and long and complicated story short--the man broke into my apartment, bound my wrists and ankles, and stuffed me in his trunk. That’s the part I do remember. After the trunk, it’s all a blur really.”

The doctor furrows her brow. “How were you found?”

“I wasn’t found, I was returned. To the hospital. None of the staff had any idea how I got there, and I was bathed and cleaned by my abductors so no trace evidence was collected.”

“So no rape kit was done, then?”

Scully shakes her head.

The doctor uncrosses her legs, recrosses them with the opposite leg on top. “How long were you missing?”

“About a month...My mother bought me a gravestone, she didn’t think I would be found.” This is a detail she has never spoken out loud. Saying it feels like letting air out of an over-inflated balloon. 

“I’m so sorry, Dana.” Dr. Zapolsky lifts a hand, then puts it back in her lap. “May I hug you?” Scully nods and lets herself be embraced, though she does not feel it necessary. “That sounds like a horrific ordeal.”

Scully shrugs as best she can with Dr. Zapolsky’s arms wrapped around her. “It comes with the job.” Always modest about her suffering, she is. 

Dr. Zapolsky speaks into Scully’s ear. “No, I don’t think it does.” 

The doctor lets go. Scully doesn’t say anything. She curls the fingers of her left hand around her right wrist and squeezes hard enough to be certain that it’ll leave a mark.

Dr. Zapolsky slides her stool back over to the counter, flips through Scully’s file.

“I’d say the best course of action is to start with a blood test. I’ll check a few hormone levels---follicle-stimulating, anti-mullerian, luteinizing. That’ll give some insight into your pituitary gland function and your egg reserve.”

Scully nods along. Those hormones are complicated names she barely remembers, but she trusts it’s the right course of action.

“With that, we can determine whether this is a symptom of a larger problem, or if it’s simply a result of the stress you’ve been under. It should only take a couple days to get the results back.”

Scully nods, bites her lip. More waiting.

“Have you been seeing a therapist by any chance?” Dr. Zapolsky asks.

Scully shakes her head. Dr. Zapolsky should know her better than that. 

“Well, I highly recommend it even to those who have not gone through any trauma. And for a survivor, it can truly be life-changing.”

A survivor. What is she, a war hero? That word is fitting for her father, who lived on the sea and sought eternal rest there. Not her.

“Thank you, but I’m okay.” Scully cannot meet her doctor’s glance.

“If you need any referrals, I can give you some names.” Dr. Zapolsky is just trying to help, Scully knows this, but this is not the help she came here for. 

“The FBI has an on-site psychologist,” she says to close the subject.

“Oh, what a wonderful resource.”

“Most definitely.” Scully smiles weakly and ducks her head, ready to get out of here.

-------

There are many things she is afraid of, but physical pain is not one of them. The unknown, slow but certain death--these are the things that spook Dana Scully. When you’ve spent years being told that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, you are prepared to suffer for honor. 

This is simply the prick of a needle, a relinquishing. Doctors used to prescribe it as the cure for any ailment, believing it to vanquish toxins from the body. Med school would have been a lot simpler if that were true.

She watches the blood flow out of her veins and into the vial. Some people can’t look; she can’t look away. Missy is seated in the chair next to her, chin resting in her palm after her offer to hold Scully’s hand was rejected. She traces the path of her sister’s blue eyes as they slide from her arm to the vial in the nurse’s hand. Dana has never been afraid to look--that’s the problem.

In an instant, it is done. The nurse smooths a bandage over Scully’s skin, tells her they will call with the results in a few days. And then it is two sisters, going, going, gone.

----------

They have a pleasant ride home, a soft and sisterly evening in. The prospect of Dana going back to Aubrey in the morning never even comes up, much to Melissa’s relief. Perhaps the illusion of normalcy her sister pedals in her head has finally given way to their unreal reality. They don’t waste a moment on the uncertainty circling them, instead curling up on the couch with popcorn and gummy bears for another Golden Girls marathon.

“Which one do you think Mulder is?” Missy asks during a slow moment in the episode.

“Huh?” Scully laughs. “Which Golden Girl, you mean?”

“Uh-huh.” Missy pops a red gummy in her mouth. “Or is he too interesting to be pinned down?” she teases, mimicking the swoony non-answer he gave about Scully some weeks ago.

“I don’t know honestly,” she says, pushing a blanket out of her lap. “I’m not sure that I know him well enough to decide.”

“You’re kidding.” Missy glares at her. Clearly her sister has not dropped the illusion after all.

“No, I’m not,” Scully intones, getting up to refill the gummy bear bowl. “And that reminds me, he wanted me to call.” She glances at the clock. It’s half past 8 there, so surely Mulder is back in his motel room. 

Missy isn’t letting her off the hook that easily. She follows her sister into the kitchen. “Dana, I guarantee that you know him better than anyone else in the world. If they conducted a test on every single living human being’s knowledge of Fox Mulder, you would get the highest score.”

“Knowledge isn’t the same as understanding,” Scully murmurs, dumping the remaining gummy bears into the bowl. 

“I’ll give you that, but you know what? You do understand him, you’re just too afraid to confront it.”

Scully wants to recoil, but freezes in place instead. It’s just as dramatic but gives less away. After a breath, she crumples the plastic bag into a ball and dunks it swiftly into the wastebasket.

She speaks rigidly, each word cutting through the air. “If I understood him, there would be no fear.” 

Missy feels this in her chest--the aching, the truth in her sister’s voice. Dana is as close to crying as she ever gets. Missy strides over, clasps her sister’s hands in hers. “You don’t have to be scared.” She pulls her little sister in, squeezes her heart to Dana’s own. “He loves you. And I’m not talking about in a romantic way--I don’t know, maybe--but just in general. He loves you, and he would never hurt you.”

Scully’s eyes are glassy with tears now, but Melissa cannot see this in the midst of their hug. “Haven’t you ever been hurt by someone who loves you?” She says into Missy’s ear. “We never mean it, but it happens. It happens all the time.”

“And then you apologize, and you go on. Being hurt once doesn’t mean being hurt forever.”

“It can.” Scully pulls away, wipes her cheeks before her sister can overanalyze. 

“It won’t, not with Mulder. I know enough about him to know that.” She brushes her sister’s hair out of her face. “If anyone was going to cut off the relationship, it would be you.”

“Wha--” Scully gives up the protest. She is partial to burning bridges that are prone to collapse, a last-ditch attempt at dignity. Yet Mulder doesn’t strike her as a bridge that would burn even if she set it aflame. Maybe that’s worse though, it prolongs the struggle.

“Hurting him would be worse than getting hurt,” Scully mutters. 

“Loving him would be better than not loving him,” Melissa responds.

“The correct phrasing of that argument is ‘loving him would be better than being loved,’ if you wanted to copy my logic.” Scully gets curt and analytical when she’s annoyed. 

“Hmm, well, consider that too.”

Their eyes meet and Scully can tell that neither one of them is going to win. “I’ve got to call him before it gets too late.” They both know who he is. She turns on her heels and heads for her room. 

--------

He didn’t pick up the first time she called, which scared her more than she’s willing to admit. She sat cross-legged on her bed until the phone rang again about twenty minutes later, until she heard his voice on the other line.

“Hey Scully, sorry, I was out wrapping up the case.”

“Wrapping up?” She doesn’t even bother to say hello. “It’s over?”

“Open and shut...or, err, something like that.”

“What happened?” Her voice strains for no reason. She clears her throat.

“I’ll catch you up some other time,” he says breezily. “How’s Melissa doing?”

For a moment, Scully forgets her lie and tries to figure out why he’s asking about her sister and not her. Then--”Oh! She’s okay, yeah, it was a sprain like we suspected. Nothing broken on the x-ray. She can just about walk normally now, I think she’ll be off crutches by tomorrow.” Embellish, embellish, embellish. Missy had taught her to lie in the 6th grade, and she finally had some use for that knowledge.

“That’s great! I’m flying back tomorrow morning, I can be at the office by 10 if you wanna meet me there.” 

“Will you tell me about the case? And BJ? How is she?”

“I’ll...I’ll tell you that tomorrow, Scully.” There’s a bit of gravel in his voice, which Scully has noticed comes out when he’s tired or holding back. 

“Fine. Should I assume that by 10, you mean 10:30?”

“Well, you know how the line at the Dulles Chick-fil-A gets,” he wisecracks.

Something goes wrong between her brain and her tongue as she goes to wrap up the conversation. “Alright, 10:30. Love you, bye.”

Mulder makes a noise like a stifled laugh or a cough that couldn’t be held in. “What was that, Scully?”

Her face is flushed, and she’s thankful he can’t see it. “Sorry, I’ve been talking to Missy on the phone a lot lately. Habit.” The voice flowing out of her sounds calm and collected, like that was just an honest mistake. In a way it was...a much too honest one that has made her anything but calm.

“Oh, is that who you say that to?” he teases. 

She laughs. Surely he couldn’t think there’s anyone else, could he? 

“Just Missy, and maybe my mom.” She says it like a promise. He hears it like a prayer. Unusual, for both of them.

“Bye, Mulder,” she says, ushering any sentimentality away. 

“Bye, Scully. Hate you. Oh, sorry--that’s what I say to my dad on the phone.”

Scully giggles into the phone. She’s still giggling as she sets the phone back on the hook.

Even after the call flat-lines, Mulder holds the phone against his ear like it’s a seashell echoing Scully’s giggle back to him.

[moonlit-grove]

OC Interview: Vielcos (Roleswap AU, set during early S2)

Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

INTRODUCTION

Can you introduce yourself?:

"Who's asking? Ugh." She glares to the side, lifting a leg over the other and grumbling, "Vielcos. Ward of Countess Anise, former criminal."

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?:

"Ugh." She turns away and refuses to answer. She's not talking about that, thanks.

Where and when were you born?:

"The Grove. Little older than the Vigil."

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?:

"Tech. I thrive when creating a solution to problems."

Lastly, are you happy?:

"No."

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?:

"I have... Two dads, and uncles... I'm sure all of them are disappointed in me. What I've done with what they've taught me..." She frowns, leaning her chin on her hand as she stares off into the middle distance.

Have you ever run away from home?:

"A few times."

Would you consider marriage or having children?:

Her eyes narrow as she turns her attention back to the interviewer. Her brows knit together. "No." Do you secretly hate one of your friends?:

"I don't make friends. They create... unnecessary risks." Which friend knows everything about you?:

"Were you not-! I just said I don't have friends!" ASKED BY FANS

She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest and crossing a leg over the other "Fans?" Are you literate? Have you been to school?:

"I can read Krytan, Orrian, Ascalonian, and Asuran. I studied under a few mentors." The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?:

"... No comment." What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?:

"No comment." Do you have mental health or physical issues?:

"And why would I tell you?" What is your current main goal?: "Serve until I'm free. Though I doubt that will happen very quickly." CHOICES Drink or food?:

"Humans can survive without drink for three days, norn for five, charr for seven, and asura for two. Sylvari depend on the individual. As for food- That's not what you were asking?" She feigns an innocent tone as she smirks. Cats or dogs?:

"Cats." As she answers, a mechanical cat jumps onto the table in front of her. Her gaze softens as she reaches to run a hand over the back. Early bird or night owl?:

"I prefer the night but the Countess needs me up early." Optimist or pessimist?:

"Realist." Sassy or sarcastic?:

"Oh, I just don't know. I'm very serious." She pulled the cat into her lap to continue, gently scratching its head. HAVE YOU EVER Been caught sneaking out:

"Oh yes. Sometimes even with the famous Pact Commander~" Broke a bone:

"Several. You know, it's really hard to decapitate someone without breaking a few bones." Received flowers:

"... Who would give me flowers?" Ghosted someone:

"Ugh... No." Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get:

"Never. If it's not funny, it's not funny. Anise thinks she's hilarious..."

[elusive-whisper]

Elusive | (h.s.) - 002 - Harry

“The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear"

I've been dreaming about this night all my life and now is my time to show him that he can be easily defeated.

"It's just the beginning of your end, Lion!" I grimace slightly, looking directly at him.

I walk slowly to the ring, my gaze still glued to him. He sits totally calm like he owned the whole world, I could feel his arrogant and hypocritical behavior from distance. The Lion was the law that ruled for years, and before that his father... generation after generation, creating his strong and invincible mafia.

Here she is! I couldn't believe I would see her so closely, at least not today, as she didn't attend any of the boxing match in the last month. Too beautiful to be in a room full of filth and blood. If only she knew the real Lion... all the trafficking with girls, intoxicating and beating them, along with his guards, the drugs and everything illegal...

I was introduced to the crowd again, everyone in complete silence, no clapping. Were they frightened?

"Don't stop moving, tight defense, watch your opponent's moves." I repeat Victor's words in my head over and over again. I'm kind of nervous and that's no good, the adrenaline makes my legs twitch and I try to take a calming breath, while the ref introduces my opponent.

The bell echoes in the hall, I meet his eyes and we nod, walking towards each other. I swerved to my opponent's right to change my position, trying to avoid his punch.

"Wrong move, buddy!" My leather glove destroyed his jaw and I could see his eye roll back, which was a sign that the match was over because seconds later he fell heavily on the floor unconscious.  His body hit the ground, a loud thump echoed in the hall, leaving everyone speechless.

The wall has been broken and it's time to go inside, into their shiny and cruel world, invited or not, and I knew the invitation was already in my hands.

Once I'm inside, it's game over for them all.

I couldn't hear anything else except my heartbeat and heavy breathing, time froze when I tried to steal one more look at her, but she's trying to do the same and locks eyes with me. Her eyes are literally glued to me, observing every inch of my body and I do the same. She's like a cliff and I'm on the edge.

Who the hell are you, Hope?

"Mr. Styles, the Lion wants to talk to you!" An unknown costumed man pats me on the shoulder, interrupting our staring contest with Hope. I was noticed, so let's see what impression I made.

I gather my things and slowly approach them, but she got up quickly and as if she wanted to run away and hide.

"Good job, boy." The Lion says, sipping from his whiskey.

"Your boxer is far too predictable. He always attacks after taking a step towards." I try to sound and appear calm, hiding the fact that I would like to strangle him with bare hands.

"He's not my boxer after tonight, you are." The Lion gestures the server to pour me a drink and gives me a sign to sit in his booth but I put my hands on the table, looking directly into his eyes.

"I don't think so."

Two of his guards come closer to us, trying to invade my personal space. Maybe this was some kind of intimidation, it wasn't working at all.

The Lion starts laughing. "That wasn't a question, Harry."

"I'm not working for anyone." I smile and take a sip of my whiskey, even though I don't drink at all.

"You're going to regret this, don't make it any harder."

I grab my bag, turn around and just leave him like that, knowing he'll come back and beg me to be his boxer. As I walk away, I hear him say. "He'll change his mind very soon."

There is no trace of the autumn heat from earlier that day, the rain is so heavy that it washes away my sweat while I manage to get to my car. Once I'm inside, I receive a text from Victor:

"30 mins, our place"

I keep thinking about the night over and over again. I did everything right, I was sure of it.

My thoughts are stopped by red and blue lights. Sirens.

Oh, shit! What's going on right now? I look around and hide my gun fast under the passenger seat.

"Is there a problem, officer?" I try sound calm and fake a laugh.

"You need to follow us to the police station, Mr. Styles!"

One of the officers leads me to a room at the end of the dark corridor, where I know I'll meet the Lion for the second time tonight.

"Well, did you change your mind or you want to make the biggest mistake in your life?" He nods to the officer and he leaves us alone.

His devilish smile made me hate him even more, but I have to admit I didn't expect him to be so quick. The fact that I'm in a police station is enough proof that he's the law here. I open my eyes and try to answer but he continues.

"I don't know if you understand that this was an order, and I'm not here to beg anyone. Let's see - Harry Styles, an orphan, 27 years old, has been fighting illegally for years and is finally making his way to the rich people to steal from them. Ah, did they tell you why you're here? I can do it for them, because tonight I lost my most expensive watch and I think you stole it. Isn't it in your car by chance? Shall we check?" He lights his cigar slowly.

"What do you want?"

If there was a lie detector in this room, I would definitely be dead in a second.

"I think I was clear enough, boy!"

"How much?" The Lion laughs at my question.

"Enough." He blows the smoke in my face. "You're running out of time."

"Good!" I say looking directly into his eyes, grabbing the cigar from his mouth and throwing it on the floor.

"Don't play with me, boy! Good what?"

"I'll be working for you."

"Ding, ding, ding. Great choice!"

„Officer, I'm very sorry, it looks like I've made a big mistake. My wife just called me and guess where's my watch?" He asks and turns to face me. "My watch is at home, I didn't even take it with me tonight. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

The Lion pats my shoulder and leans to whisper in my ear.

„Be ready tomorrow morning. And don't run, I hate chasing people!"

I try to continue with my plan after getting out of the station and arrive at our secret place.

"You're late!" Victor says.

"The trick with the police station. Nothing new but I wasn't expecting it to be so soon."

He laughs and pats me on the shoulder.

"No one followed you, right?"

"Relax! It's just us, no one comes to an abandoned building in the middle of the night."

"Did you win?"

"Of course I won. But you aren't asking me the most important question?"

"Are you in?"

"I'm in, Victor! After all those years..."

"You have to be careful from now on, H. We've been planning this mission for so many years, only you, me and the boss know about it. But he doesn't know who you are. Don't forget you're undercover! Your only goal is to find enough evidence of the filthy and illegal world of the Lion, so we can put him in prison forever."

Victor has been my only family for the past twenty years, he's the one who took care of me when they killed my father. All these years I've been dreaming about being part of The S2, which is a secret organisation of the government. They steal everything from you. Your life, family, friends. The only good thing is that I have nothing to lose. The S2 gives you a second chance, offering you a new life. They teach you to walk, talk... basically everything all over again. They transform you like clay. Sometimes it takes months, sometimes years.

I've completed more than fifteen missions the past seven years but this one... I've been waiting all my life for this one and the fact I can't kill this horrible filthy animal is destroying me. I don't want revenge, I want to see him suffer the way my father suffered because of him.

"I can't believe the first step is completed...after all those years." I say to Victor and look up to the sky.

---

You can read my story on wattpad here - Elusive | (h.s.)

[hopewritcs]

trapped upside down.

pairing: romantic pairing n/a, familial hopper x reader ( niece )

word count: 3k

request: “i’m thinking maybe reader gets stuck in the upside down for a bit and thinks they were abandoned? and then when they get out they’re all traumatised and betrayed and everyone just tries to show them how much they love them? reallll hurt/comfort. i’m thinking familial/gen, you could decide which family or you could add a romance if you want xx”

summary: y/n hopper is the daughter of hopper’s sibling.  but hopper was always more like a parent to her.  when everything happened with sarah, y/n’s parents let him stay with them until he wound up with the cabin in the middle of nowhere.  you got wrapped up in everything last year both from being around hopper and from being around jonathan and nancy.  now, you’ve been helping your uncle hide el, and you’re trying to figure out what happened.  but, will they be able to find you in time?  

notes: oooh okay so i literally just watched the episode in s2 where hop goes into the upside down so i’m gonna base it off of that bit.  and also i thought it would be fitting if hopper had family in this fic, since it’s based on that plot where he was the one who was stuck in the upside down for a bit.  i also might have mucked up the timeline a bit, since when i started writing i just finished the episode, but now it’s been a while, though i think i got it mostly right?  hope you like it!  as always, thanks for sending in the request. 

warnings: claustrophobia/tight spaces, fire

You shouldn’t have come with Jim.  You should have stayed back at the Byers’ house with Joyce and Will.  

Should have.  Should have.  Should have.  

What did you do?  You went with your uncle to the damn pumpkin patch and helped him dig down into the upside down.  

From the moment he got up from where you, he, and Joyce had been making the map of vines you knew that something was on his mind.  He tried to get you to stay back at the house with Joyce and help her keep an eye on Will, but you wouldn’t hear it and got in the car just before he was driving back out of the driveway.  

Even when you two showed up at the patch, he told you to stay back.  Instead, you grabbed another shovel and started helping him out.  

Boy, do you wish you’d listened to him now.  

You didn’t expect, when you followed him down, that you two would wind up separated.  You were trying to find a way to get back out, and suddenly a wrong turn later you got stuck in a collapsed section of the tunnels and couldn’t find your way back out to your uncle.  

It felt like it had been forever.  There was no way to tell time from everything that was going on, you couldn’t see your watch in the dark.  Your flashlight had died when you had tried to use it to get out of the part of the tunnel you’d gotten stuck in.  

You lost track of time, not being able to see your watch or see if the sun was up or down.  You’d lost your voice screaming out for your Uncle Jim, to never hear him calling back.  Which, you were sure he was looking for you too if he could.  But damn, you had no idea where here even was.  

Pacing, that’s how you spent your time.  You couldn’t sit still and look around at everything--that you couldn’t even see in the darkness--because you felt like you needed to be doing something.  But you still, no matter how many circles around the tunnel you did, were trapped without any sign of a way out.  

Deep breaths.  You had to instruct yourself to stay calm several times.  You weren’t usually too claustrophobic, but you’d also never been trapped in a space like this.  

The darkness was all consuming and you kept your hands on the walls of the tunnel, pacing back and forth.  Nothing seemed to change, nothing at all.  

How long had you been down here?  

Surely they were looking for you and your uncle, right?  They had to be.  They wouldn’t just...leave you down here.  Hopper wouldn’t let that happen.  

Unless they hadn’t found him yet either.  

You stopped pacing, sitting down on the ground and shaking your head.  Maybe you were talking to yourself, or maybe you just thought that because you were thinking so damn loudly.  

Sitting was worse than pacing, because you felt like time was endless.  At least when you’d been pacing you had some sense of the passing of time.  It took you 78 seconds to walk around the room in one full circle.  Sitting, however, you couldn’t pass the time just sitting.  

And then, the world fell even darker than everything already was.  

The next time you remember having a clear thought, it felt like the world was on fire.  Literally, the heat was unbearable.  

Sure, you felt like you were trapped in hell.  

When had it gotten this hot?  

You screamed, repeatedly, “I’m down here! I’m down here,” as you gathered up the strength to pull yourself up to your feet.  

You thought you heard something in the distance--some indistinct noise you couldn’t quite tell what it was--and you attempted to run toward it.  Unfortunately you were met with a literal wall of fire and were forced to retreat back wards, stumbling in a run to get away from the flame.  

The only thoughts in your mind were; I’m going to die,  Uncle Jim might be dead, and no one will find us down here.  

Then, as quickly as the flames and heat started, they were gone.  

You stopped moving, immediately relieved by the coolness returning to the air around you and you began walking again.  What way were you headed?  You had no idea, but hopefully it would lead you out of here.  

You hoped, at least.  

What you didn’t know was that, above ground everything was changing.  They’d found Hopper and managed to pull him above, but once he was on the surface he’d begun tugging away from Joyce and Bob.  

“Let me go!”  Hopper said, attempted to break free of their hold on him, but he was still too weak after being trapped down in the upside down for however long it had been--it felt like a lifetime was wiped away from him, if he were being honest.  He didn’t want to go back down there, but he needed to.  You were still down there.  

Everything flew through his mind--getting separated from you, searching for you, getting trapped.  

Feeling like he might die down there, alone.  

“Hop, are you crazy?  You can’t go back down there!”  Joyce pulled back on him, staring at him with wide eyes.  

Hopper’s expression hardened, as he growled out his response to Joyce.  Sure, she was arguably his best friend, but he wasn’t about to argue this with her.  She of all people had to understand what was going on, given how hard she fought him when he didn’t believe Will was missing.  You were the closest thing he’d had to a daughter now, other than El.  “Y/N is down there.  She is down there Joyce.  I can’t just leave her.”  

“Jim, buddy, you’re in no shape to go back down there.”  Bob said, looking sympathetic.  He wasn’t as close to Jim as Joyce was, but because of Joyce he knew him better and thus knew about his relationship with you.  

Before anything else could happen, the vans showed up and men in gear jumped down.  They couldn’t even ask what was happening before Will dropped to the ground of the pumpkin patch, writhing and screaming.  

Even as they drove back towards Hawkins lab, Jim was turned to look out the window.  

“We’re gonna get her back, Hop.  I promise you.”  Joyce said, comforting her oldest friend with a small smile and a nod before turning back to her son with worried eyes. 

You’d made it so much farther than you thought you might.  You had to stop walking every so often in order to breathe--though it wasn’t like you could really take some deep breaths down here, but you needed to stop every so often to catch your breath and calm down.  

You kept chanting in your head, I will make it out of here.  Over and over again.  You had to keep thinking positively about everything, otherwise there was no hope left.  You needed to keep hold to hope.  

There was a crack, light up ahead.  You had no idea what it led to, for all you knew it could be a trap.  It could be something bad--like maybe it led to whatever had made this damned tunnel.  However, it seemed to be the only way you could possibly leave.  There was no time to go back, only to go forward.  

Stepping through the crack in the tunnel, you were blinded by light.  It had been so dark in the tunnel that seeing any kind of light was blinding right away.  The air felt colder, too, but you could tell you weren’t outside.  You practically fell to the floor, which was cold and metal, taking in deep breaths of fresher air finally.  

The only sounds were the whirring of machines around you.  You had no idea where you were, but you had to open your eyes slowly to adjust to the brightness of whatever room you were in.  

Boy did you hope that you hadn’t walked right into some bad place, but something in the pit of your stomach told you that it was a possibility you had.  And, if you did, you just hoped that Jim would be able to find you and fast.  You were in no shape to fight anybody ( or anything ) at the moment.  

Everything was coming into focus, and it was all metal minus a big glass window leading into another room.  

“What the fuck kind of place is this?”  You mumbled, shaking your head as you forced yourself to your feet.  You walked slowly, unsteady on your feet, as you moved towards a door in the room.  

Another door opened, and you heard voices approaching which made you stop in your tracks.  Unfortunately, there was no place to hide in the room you currently stood in, which worried you.  You had no idea what was about to walk through the door, and the voices were too muffled behind the other door, even though it was open.  You just had to wait and see what would happen when whoever was walking in, walked in.  

It surprised you when you saw a couple of people filing into the room all in versions of lab coats and scrubs and some other kind of suit you didn’t know what it was for.  They did stop when they spotted you, blinking and looking at you.  

It seemed like none of them, nor you, knew what to do.  

“Sir.”  one of the men turned around, looking at the man who just walked in--a doctor maybe?  He seemed to be talking to somebody else who hadn’t walked into the room yet, and was surprised to be stopped.  

“What is it?”  The white haired man asked, stepping fully into the room and looking at the man who had called his attention, only to be met with the other gesturing toward where you stood in the room.  “What?  What are you pointing--at?”  The man started talking before he turned his attention to where you stood.  Then he walked closer to the glass window and tapped on it, looking at you.  “Hello there.  Who are you?”  

“Who are you?” you retorted, crossing your arms and staring him down.  

“Who the fuck are you talking to Owens?” it was a voice you knew well, and you turned to look at him at the same time he spotted you.  “Y/N?”  he asked, his mouth falling open as he looked at you.  “Y/N!”  he exclaimed, moving toward the door and attempting to open it.  “Open the door for her, Owens.  Somebody open this fucking door right now.”  Hopper exclaimed, turning back to everyone in the room.  “Right now!”  

Even though it was clear that the doctor, Owens, was in charge of the place, someone hopped up and unlocked the door for your uncle.  With all the strength you had you walked toward the door and toward your uncle, but one of the men in suits held you back before you could embrace him.  

“Hey, let me go.” You tugged your arm to get out of his grasp and looked at your uncle.  “Let me go.”  

“Miss, we have to take you to the decontamination showers before anything else happens.”  the man holding your arm explained, and you turned to your uncle and he nodded.  

“I guess that explains the scrubs.”  rolling your eyes you sighed as you waved to your uncle and let the man lead you out of the room.  

“Hey, kid.”  Hopper called back to you, and you stopped walking to look at him.  “I was trying to find you.  We wouldn’t leave you down there, ever.”  He walked out to where you stood in the hallway, though he kept his distance when the other man fixed him with a look.  

“I know, old man.”  you smiled at him.  He was your family, and even if you felt abandoned down in that scary hell hole, you knew that he would never leave you like that.  You knew he would come back for you, even if it felt like maybe he wouldn’t given how long it felt like you were down there.  “Hey, when you see me again, we’ll be all matchy matchy in scrubs.  Christmas card photo shoot?”  You laughed, letting the other man walk with you again towards an elevator.  

Hopper rolled his eyes at you, but you could see that even he was smiling a little bit as he waved you off into the elevator.  “See ya soon, kid.” 

It wasn’t a smooth night by any means.  The scrubs were as comfortable as they could be, even if they were bigger than you expected them to be, and you hadn’t gone back down to see your uncle.  Instead you had been ushered towards another room where you saw Will on a hospital bed, as well as Joyce, Bob, and Mike.  

“Oh, thank God.”  Joyce sighed when she saw you, pulling you into a tight hug and wrapping her arms around you.  “Hop was so worried.  We were all so worried.  Does he know you’re--how did you get here?”  

You grinned, pulling back from the hug, “It’s a weird story how I got here.  I just kind of kept walking and found this crack and walked through and here I am.  Uncle Jim saw me first, before the weird man in uniform hauled me off to the showers.”

“Hop was so worried when they took us away and brought us here.  He just kept saying that you were still there and we had to go back for you.”  Joyce said, tears in her eyes as she looked at you.  

“We would have gone to look for you, Y/N, I swear.  But Will...” Mike gestured to the bed and you looked around the room.  

“What happened?”  

You were filled in on everything that happened since you left the Byers’ place, nodding along as they spoke.  You wondered where the other kids were--usually they were inseparable--but you didn’t want to ask where they were right then.  

Everything else happened so fast, you weren’t quite sure how it all went down.  Will talking crazy, Mike running out of the room, all of you having to leave.  Watching Bob die as you ran back with your uncle.  Pulling Joyce away and leading her out of Hawkins lab, letting her cry on your shoulder as you walked to the car and helped her get in.  

You drove down the road and stopped to let your uncle’s car pass you.  You were shocked to see everyone else down at the end of the road, waiting and hopping in to your uncle’s car.  

When you got there, you walked Joyce back to her room and then went into the kitchen to get her a glass of water.  

“Y/N was stuck down in the upside down with Hopper.”  Mike said, gesturing toward you as you stood by the sink, filling up the glass.  “She knows what it’s like down there, we should ask her.”  

“Ask me what?”  you asked, leaning against the sink and holding onto the glass waiting to see what they would have to say before going back to Joyce.  

“We have to get that thing out of Will, so the upside down is our best bet.”  Mike explained with a nod of his head.  

“What, are you gonna light it on fire again?  Cause that worked so well for those lab guys.”  You rolled your eyes and turned to leave the room before stopping and looking back at everyone.  “There’s got to be another way.  A better way.”  

You sat with Joyce quietly, both of you sitting in her bedroom and listening in to the conversation out in the kitchen.  It seemed like Joyce was detached, and you hadn’t wanted to start talking to her again because, frankly, you didn’t know what to say to her.  Were you supposed to distract her?  Try and make her focus?  What had your parents done when your uncle had come to the house all those years ago?  So instead, the two of you sat in silence, listening in on the conversation in the kitchen.  

It was all about what they had to do.  What they could do about the thing that had its claws wrapped tightly around Will.  

After a couple of long moments of just listening in silence, Joyce stood up and walked out of her room and left you to follow at her heels.  

“We have to kill it.”

You had gone with your uncle and El to go and close the gate.  You felt more comfortable going with them rather than sticking around the house with Steve and the other kids--you felt like they were planning something and you didn’t want to be around for whatever it was they’d been planning.  Though, admittedly, you probably weren’t the best fighter if you encountered anyone while El attempted to close the gate, but you at least could help protect El as best as you could.  

After everything was said and done you’d gone back to the Byers’ house and looked around the room at everyone.  You were grateful that you had this group of people around you.  

People who would go to the ends of the Earth to bring back anybody else sitting in that house--in fact, in some cases, they had.  

People who hugged you so tight that night that you almost couldn’t breathe.  

People who cared for you and shared this weird supernatural experience with you.  

Family.  That’s what they were, what you all were to each other.  

You couldn’t ask for a better family than the one you’d found in Hawkins, the ones whom you were sitting with as you watched the sunrise and did everything to forget about what you’d just gone through.  It was bittersweet, but everyone was telling stories and jokes, anything to ease the tension you’d all been feeling the past couple of days.  And it was working, you felt at ease with this group of people--with your family.  

You loved them all, and they loved you.  And you knew that you would also risk anything for them too.  

[no-idea-what-imdoing]

Some quotes from the first term this year (we go in person but masks are required in my district) part one

It’s so weird they put shaggy and Velma together

They get smaller and smaller every year

Shut up that’s why y’all bonin

I’m anxious sometimes

If I was rich why would I live in Palatka

I don’t want to be rich I just want to be upper middle class

While you’re getting taxes we’re living on government money

We’ve been in school a day and you’ve already started 2 rumors about me

How far is six feet? Just take a 6 foot person and lay them down!

So how I tell if I’m 6 feet apart from someone I imagine my brother laying on the ground

What’s the best flavor of ice cream?

-chocolate peanut butter

Incorrect

Don’t eat the penis nut

*squeals* DONT TOUCH MY CHICKEN

What did you three do to your table mates?

We ate them

Now all we need is a bonfire

It’s too dang hot you got one up there Lucas *points at sun*

Your not the real Santa your just a fake

Get in the bag

Hurry up kid

You know what iconic thing George Washington said when they crossed the Delaware?

Happy birthday?

Get in the boat.

Tiktok bullying is real

As soon as I get in my car I’m whipping it out of here

Hey sexies

My signature does not count I’m a registered sex offender

T:How much do you like president trump with a 1 being you hate his gu-

S1:1.

S2: Is there anything lower than 1

Who do you have for math

…oh I’m not taking Pre-Calc

You’re in AICE Statistics? Are you crazy!

Maybe but I was put in it I didn’t choose it

Was last week the first week of school?

If I had just given birth and someone said aw the baby looks just like you I’d be so offended

S1:He added an E on the end

s2:OH like Tomato

S1: THATS NOT HOW TOMATO IS SPELLED

S2: *gasps* THERES A WIKEPEDIA PAGE ON COFOFEE

T: yes it was a very big deal

S3: anyone can make a Wikipedia page here I’ll make one right now Michael is stupid

S1: you should probably not speak for the rest of class

S1: Michael thought tomato was spelled with an E

S2: what did I ever do to you

S4: He’s just Vibin look he’s sitting in a chair enjoying the view

S3: why are they so small

T: would you like this old white man or this old white man

T2: I asked Mr. [redacted] and Mr.[redacted2] if GenZ still likes tie dye cause I heard it was cool again

S: if Mr. [redacted] thinks it’s cool it is he is a trendsetter

Eat your green bean bean dipstick

Rainbows are gay

I honestly forgot we were juniors that’s scary

S1:I hate it when people go slow on 100 you know you’re going slow when 3 semis pass you

S2:By slow do you mean the speed limit?

S1: yesss no one goes the speed limit on 100

S3: if you’re going the speed limit you’re going to slow that’s what I believe

That’s very scandalous

Yesss

*reveals ankles*

SeXy

Staff member on the announcements: Do not share your drinks and let others drink them this is just a PSA brought to you by common sense

T:Flip a coin it’ll achieve the same thing

S: I have a chuck-e-cheese token

Dave and Busters seems like a better chuckecheese

I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs and they’re gonna be like shut up and I’m gonna do it again

You’re like my dad anytime I get on my computer at home: dO yOuR kHan AcAdEmY sOn

Why did everyone study-

Except you Mark. Dungeons and Dragons.

Dungeons and dragons is a life thing

Wait when did we get doordash

What is the capital of Mississippi

Jackson

No

Yes it is *reaches for other students phone and looks over to prove it*

Someone got uranium and now I’m mad

SANTA

I WANNA SIT ON SANTA

MOVE I WANNA SIT ON SANTA

BUT I WANT TO SIT ON SANTA

Where’s jack

Jack had to ‘get back’

Haha that’s a good one

Thanks I work on those

This parabola and line are following coronavirus protocol

Social distancing

But are they wearing masks?

Or they’re girls and Justin

HEY ok true-

Ah moisture

-Yes the wind is very moisturized it’s not raining just moist wind

singing in the rain

Ugh I hate the squeaks

-squeaks get worse-

Stop it’s annoying

Don’t mention it it makes it worse

I face time in the shower

Really me too

I was joking

Well I do it

*crosses chest*

Yeah chick-fil-a supports that [conversion therapy]

*weakly* eattt moree chickennn

Just look at chicken sandwich

I’m eating zaxbys now

Is it okay if we have a negative number

Is it that bad

It’s Fox News

Our next source is Fox News

Ooh can’t wait to do that one it sounds so fun

Fox News is awful it’s biased

But no ads?

Yeah no ads thankfully *then the ads appear*

*ex-student walks in door*

What in the turtleneck

WOAH ITS A SPIDER I HATE SPIDERS

*everyone backs away*

*holding rabbit*

What is that

What

That

What

That

Those are testicles

Can any chicken lay eggs without a rooster

Yes rylee the rooster just fertilizes it

If you and Ryan were to do it without anything

NO STOP IT PEOPLE ARE LOOKING

There’s a 99.9% you’d get pregnant

It’s not based on how many times you do it there’s a 99% chance you’d be pregnant

S1:The seventh graders are the smallest kids at the school

S2:And the bossiest

S1:Like bruh shut up I could step on you

Oh my god, no way let’s kiss

I’m about to bring my own mini Tabasco bottle

Does the royal family even have a last name

Steven why are you asking a bunch of standard white southerners about the royal family

*aggressively sips water starting into camera at other class we video call to in another school*

*more people join his staring*

Person 1 *wheezing*: those poor kids

Why are they standing on the table

T:The fan.

The Lorax does not approve but I don’t care about the Lorax

[skamamoroma]

REWATCH: Skam Italia s4 - Episode 5

Ah the inevitable Episode 5...! Shit always goes south. It’s Skam! The fact that Sana can’t concentrate just after she has said to Malik that prayer, for her, provides focus. He is affecting that for her. It’s not his fault but to hear her dad so dismissive of Malik just adds to the pressure. It’s from every angle now and that text off Malik just confirms to her that she can’t. I like that she messaged him first and asked for him to respect her choices... but my heart breaks for her. That denial of her true feelings.

I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed Ele until she appeared on screen. FEMININE ALPHA. Edo, I miss him too! I love that Sana and Ele still have their chats and I think her lack of presence was felt because she is always slightly more on Sana’s wavelength, a little more mature than the others and I loved that she could give some advice from a distance. Sana immediately opened with “I’m bummed out” and opened up.

I LOVE that Sana got accepted after her exam. She’s so dedicated! 🔥🔥🔥

Her talk with Rami is just so precious. They care. The way Rami looks out for her and yeah he might be a bit of a douche sometimes with his jokes but he wants the best for her. The way he teases her but then tells her he wants to see her respected. He’s such a BROTHER and I don’t even have siblings but I know a good brother when I see one!

THE EIGHTIES STYLE DRESSING UP MONTAGE. How bloody cute! Sana is so adorable dancing in front of her mirror in her sparkly dress. She looks all lit up inside and has this new found positivity that maybe she can decide for herself and forge her own path. A little bit of hope after weeks of feeling down trodden... seeing her swirling so happily made my heart soar

And then the party happened 😂 genuinely don’t remember feeling THIS devestated in the original. The end of this episode made me cry.

I love that we get to see little moments this season of random dynamics like Gio, Sylvia, Elia and Sana having a chat about their band...! The fact Sana is so preoccupied with Rami, Elia is looking at her all weird because he likes her and all the while Luchi is going insane on a sofa 😂 this is why I love this show and Ludo’s influence. He keeps them all perfectly in character even in the background.

Can we take a moment and recognise Fede for how BEAUTIFUL she looked! Her space buns and sparkly jacket. Total babe! I love that they had their little chat and we got to see Sana wondering why Fede ever spoke to her. So interesting that we find out so much more later on.

I love that Ludo made all of these moments make much more sense than they ever did in the original. Malik thought that Sana was interested in Elia and after blocking him... no wonder he put two and two together! He looked like such a kicked puppy though 🥺

Whoever decided to have a SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW remix playing is my new hero. Cheesy and genius.

The biggest elephant in the room is Marti and Nico and the total meltdown. I’ve already made posts on this but Marti is a complex soul. He isn’t all sweetness and light but he’s also a LOT of that too. The end of s2 framed Nico as Marti’s family; that’s how he considers Nico. He walked away from his father’s home and chose his mamma, his friends and Nico as the family he wants and feels a part of. Being left behind is a major issue for him. We know how he feels about Nico and how much he loves him, how happy they are with each other but, above all, how comfortable. They always have been settled and just always sharing this connection that was there from the start. They were so open with each other at the end of s2 with so much and they created this real intention to be open and to take each day as it comes. But life doesn’t always work that way. Nico is someone who loves with his whole heart. He’s exceptionally sweet and adoring. He sees Marti with eyes so full of love for who Marti is and nothing else. He feels listened to, cared for and told Marti he fell in love and has never felt that way before. He’s also vulnerable and has been mistreated in the past by those professing to love him. He has been spoken for, dismissed and has felt trapped. The whole Last Man metaphor was even an escape for him and he took Marti with him. Now? He has a secret he doesn’t want Marti to know about because he didn’t want anything bad to come of it and worried it would cause issues. I think Nico worries about losing Marti quite a bit. The presence of Luai is a reminder of his past that wasn’t too positive, a reminder of who he used to be but ALSO of what he has. He has Marti but all of the things that came with meeting Marti like the boys, the whole group of friends who love him too. He risks losing it all because he lied. I understand him. It’s up to Nico to decide when to share his past. It doesn’t mean he can switch off the way he cares for people though and when Luai saw him, that could never be mistaken. Nico clearly hasn’t seen him since and I don’t think anyone could blame Nico for being stunned.

But Marti doesn’t know a thing. He knows Nico is keeping something from him and he sees Nico staring at another guy who is handsome... and then he walks away from Marti. Now, Marti is not a rational soul at times. I wouldn’t have presumed he’d react so quickly but I think it’s much more telling the way it evolves here that there’s something much more focused on Nico and Luai than there was with Even and Mikael. In the og it was more about Even’s attempt at his life. Here, it’s more about a previous relationship and it’s framed that way so Marti feels threatened. It kills me because just mere seconds before they’re dancing and smiling and Marti even agrees to stay on a dance floor for Nico. They kiss so close and cuddly and Nico looks so so happy, grinning like a fool at Marti’s smiles and his dorky dancing.

I just think it triggered this fight or flight response in Marti. To consider even for a second losing Nico is just something fundamentally not ok for him. Marti is also someone who acts before he thinks - we’ve seen this before multiple times. He also has a temper and when he feels cornered, he lashes out. Marti is obviously an idiot here. His actions can never be excused because he doesn’t ask, he acts and every moment of it is out of fear of loss it seems. That intense worry that Nico is becoming distant, is lying to him and could have something with someone else... Nico’s actions in the past are always going to have to come to light and the fact that Marti clearly has that one worry left just kills me. They’re so great for each other but they’re also both so complex and difficult and also both full of contradictions and struggles. Neither of them are perfect but when they’re together things are just so settled and calm...

Watching Sana run to them and seeing the two parts of her life colliding like that is painful. She loves both. So much. The way she touches Marti’s face 😭. All around Marti, as expected, are his boys and CHRIST Elia is scary when he wants to be! Gio being there OBVIOUSLY right beside Marti. Nico trying to stop it all and still focusing on Marti even though he was a total IDIOT. For Nico, that all must have been so painful. But he’s still there checking Marti is ok. MARTINO RAMETTA. I just wanted to shake him. I love him so so much but in that moment, even Gio’s words were filled with “come on, you idiot, what the fuck are you doing, I don’t understand you”. I also love that La Rosa squad were so protective of their Luai. They are good boys.

For me, I cried for Sana. The way she burrowed her way into the middle of that scary fight when she’s pretty tiny in height and screamed for them to stop. She sounded strangled and afraid and then when she was left alone with blood on her hands and she couldn’t breathe for crying... it hurt. It’s the fact that she was left alone. Then to go back inside to be trapped in a toilet with sounds of betrayal coming through the walls and to see the boy that makes her smile kissing someone else... the pretty Italian NON MUSLIM girl just like her worries. My heart broke for her and I just felt desperately sad. Ludo managed to make me feel so connected with her and here I was a little unsure if I would have that because I didn’t connect to Sana as much early on. Now? I hold her so dear. I was even ok with seeing Marti and Nico and Gio and everyone walk away because I was focused on her being ok!

I love that from this point, things change quite massively from the original! Up to episode 5 things were kind of mapping the og but Epiaode 5 was a total game changer.

[anonfanfic]

Between S2 and S3 Lexa and company finds Clarke in the woods during a hunting trip

Clarke was on edge, it had been weeks since she had been in contact with another human. She had isolated herself on purpose. It had to be done to make sure everyone stayed safe. 

Most night Clarke stayed awake through the night, only finding an uneasy rest when her eyes could no longer stay open. When she did fall asleep she was haunted by nightmares of the mountain. She felt trapped in her own mind. 

There had been a handful of times, when it was pouring outside or there was a low dangerous growl deep in the woods, that Clarke wanted to run back to camp - sometimes thinking about finding Lexa in the capitol. 

Clarke was jolted from her thoughts by the sound of twigs snapping near her. She jumped up, grabbing the knife holstered on her hip. She had to trade two of her best kills for the knife and the roughly sewn holster. Clarke retreated to the small cave she had covered with vines and branches, looking out to see who would appear in the clearing. 

Clarke put a hand over her mouth when she saw three figures enter the clearing. The one in the middle stood out to her, it was someone she never thought she’d see again. 

Lexa stood between two large men, all of them had weapons drawn. Lexa wore light armor and familiar black paint on her face. 

Clarke heard her tell the two guards to search the meadow below and report back to her if they found anything. They both bowed to her and walked off leaving Lexa alone in the small clearing. 

“I know you’re here.” 

Clarke’s heart stopped when she heard Lexa speak. She could be bluffing, trying to get Clarke to reveal herself. Clarke swallowed heavily, hoping her rapid heartbeat wasn’t giving away her position. She felt the muscles in her arms tense as Lexa started to move slowly around the area. Clarke’s left hand gripped the wooden handle of her knife. A sharp anger stabbed her in the stomach. It was a rage she hadn’t felt since she had left the mountain. When she had watched Lexa walk away and leave her.

“Clarke, please don’t hide. We don’t have much time until they return.” Lexa continued to circle the area, her weapon held loosely in her right hand. 

Clarke tightened her jaw and readied herself to pounce. Lexa took a few more steps before Clarke jumped out, knife drawn and teeth bared. She had the element of surprise on her side, but that was barely enough to knock Lexa off her feet. 

They wrestled on the hard packed dirt for a few moments. Clarke felt Lexa’s strength as she knocked the knife from her hand and pinned her to the ground. Lexa was now on top of Clarke, her legs on either side of her body and a knife placed against her throat. 

“Do it. Kill me.” Clarke snarled, looking up at Lexa with an intensity she didn’t feel. Clarke felt terrified, staring up at Lexa and knowing she could end her with just a flick of her wrist. 

Lexa pulled the knife away. “I don’t want to kill you, Clarke. I want you to come back to Polis with me.” 

Clarke let out a single humorless laugh. “Why the hell would I do that?” 

Clarke was surprised to see a glimmer of hurt in Lexa’s green eyes. 

“Because I can’t protect you out here.” Lexa placed her knife back in it’s holster, though she didn’t move from her position. 

“I don’t need your protection. I don’t need you at all. Haven’t you heard? I’m Wanheda. I’m the Commander of Death.” Clarke spat, her words intended to hurt Lexa.

Lexa nodded slowly. “Yes, I have heard. I’m not the only person who has heard the legend of Wanheda who brought down the mountain.” 

“Brought down the mountain while you ran.” Once again, Clarke’s tone was sharp, nearly cutting her throat as she forced the words out. 

Lexa took a deep breath through her nose and shut her eyes trying to regain her composure. 

“We don’t have time to discuss this here. Will you come back with me?” Lexa asked, shifting her weight on top of Clarke. 

“Why bother asking? You have me. I’m your prisoner.” Clarke forehead wrinkled in confusion, not understanding what Lexa was trying to do.

“No.” Lexa got up and stood up reaching down to offer Clarke her hand. “I won’t take you back to Polis unless you’re willing to go with me now.” 

Clarke refused Lexa’s hand and stood up, dusting herself off. They both stared at each other. Clarke wasn’t sure what Lexa’s plan had been coming to find her, but not capture her. Surely Lexa hadn’t thought Clarke would be grateful that Lexa had come back to her months after she had abandoned her. 

They both heard the footsteps at the same time. Lexa turned to Clarke, her green eyes staring at her intently. She walked over and put her hands on Clarke’s shoulders. Clarke wanted to pull away, but something deep inside of her stopped her from moving. 

“Listen to me, Clarke.” Lexa spoke with urgency, her eyes darting over to the place where the footsteps were growing louder. “There are others who want to find you. The power of Wanheda has spread to all of the clans. I won’t force you to come with me now, but know that I can’t allow you to be captured by someone else.”

“Allow?” Clarke pulled away now. The idea that Lexa was speaking about her like she was property not sitting well with her.

“Clarke, I won’t allow someone else to hurt you.” Lexa tried to explain, but was clearly now very distracted as the voices of the two men were now audible in the distance. 

“Go now. Just beware of the Queen.” Lexa eyes grew big and she pointed to the woods ahead of them. “Clarke, run.” 

Clarke didn’t need to be told twice. She took off through the forest, Lexa’s last warning ringing in her ears.

Beware the Queen.