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1kook · 4 years

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Hi Everyone, please read

tw// racism

First of all, I just wanna say I’m so grateful for all the nice anons and interactions I get to have with people here everyday. I live in a densely populated city so quarantine regulations were super tough when this all started in March and remain strict even all the way into October. I haven’t been able to see my friends a lot or anyone outside of my family and job, which really sucked, but it was fine because I had my blog! The beginning of September I had two fics that did so amazing and of which I am so thankful for their response, because with that came a lot of new anon friends!

I have been on tumblr since 2012, but I have never received the same amount of interaction as I do now. I’m so happy I can interact with people on here be it anonymous or not. I enjoy hearing ideas and doing my best to fulfill them, hearing about someone’s day, and laughing about stupid jokes. It’s gotten to the point where some have picked names and further fleshed out our friendships because of how close we’ve gotten!! I have had so much fun everyday asking stupid questions and getting equally as silly answers and it’s all because I was able to make people feel comfortable on my blog.

However, people are not always nice. That’s fine! It’s the internet, this will always happen. Rarely do I get hateful anons and rarely do I post the few I do get. Sometimes they’re funny and I laugh and go about my day. Most anons have been about my style as an author, the types of fics I put out, and for the most part, the similarity in all my fics. I’ll address this now. if you feel my fics are all the same then consider this.

1. I write fics FOR MYSELF about ideas I have and want to see, and post them FOR MYSELF. I don’t mean to sound cocky but at the end of the day every fic i have ever posted is just me filling my own imagination in a self indulgent way. They’re all the same because they’re all things I like??? Things I want to read??? No offense, but unless I am filling a requests, you’re GONNA SEE jk college au. jk boyfriend. jk dom/sub. jk this and this. Why? Because it’s my blog and I post what I like.

2. If you don’t like my fics.... don’t read them? I am not holding you at gunpoint to read these fics nor is anyone else. If you appear on my blog to complain about my fics ... okay?? I’m not gonna change them lmao. You’re not the target audience, so move along.

But truthfully speaking, this is not the main reason I am making this post. Do I care what people online think about my fics? Mmm not really. Writing fics is something I do in my free time as a hobby. I’ve never wanted to do this professionally lmao. I do it for fun when I’m bored or procrastinating. I have other hobbies I do too. I journal i paint i play soccer I listen to music. I frankly am not offended when people critique my work, especially not when they chose to do it through an anonymous message.

What DOES offend me is when people abuse the anonymous option to be spiteful and hateful, and use my ethnic background against me... OVER KPOP. OVER FAN FIC ABOUT KPOP.

Am I offended about the first part of the ask? No I don’t care. What I am disgusted and disturbed by is that you have been blatantly racist and ignorant not only to ME but to ALL OTHER POCS with the second half of your message. Being a POC writing for BTS is bad?? What do you prefer I write about? Shawn Mendes? Niall Horan? I’d rather choke. What do you even mean??? Am I supposed to write Can fic for completely unproblematic people?? Give me an example?? Furthermore, I am not black so for you to come in here and disrespect black people with your last comment is immature, disgusting, and racist. Go to hell.

I deleted the message. I always delete excessively rude messages. I was hoping it was a one time occurrence but nope. A few hours later.

My status as an undocumented immigrant is something I have shared on tumblr because it is my safe space and somewhere where no one in real life knows me. Did you think this was funny? Did you think I actually laughed? I didn’t. I won’t lie. This ask terrified me. You’re threatening to call ICE on me.... OVER KPOP? OVER FAN FICS OF KPOP? How old are you. How immature do you have to be to take it this far.

I deleted this message and turned off anon. I am not gonna let some anonymous grey sunglasses orb abuse the anonymous option like this. Honestly, I knew another message was bound to follow up and it did 🤗

thanks for showing me your face, doll. I reported your account and so did a bunch of friends of mine. It’s funny that you mention writing better content but your blog is only ten posts? 9 of which are reblogs of fan fics? What do you write babe? What do you do? Where do you post? As I’ve said before I frankly don’t care for writing advice, this is just a hobby. But if you’re going to claim you’re some modern day Shakespeare maybe have the proof to back it up. Also your first posts says you’re a black woman, but your first ask to me says POC shouldn’t enjoy BTS.... honey all your posts are about BTS. So what’s the truth? Do we enjoy them or not? Next time you feel some type of way towards me as a Mexican woman, don’t start off by hiding behind anon until I force you off, don’t disrespect me or other POCs, and don’t use a burner account like you did. And for the record. I barely believe you’re black, and honestly speaking, everything about your asks have racist undertones only a white person could carry out.

Anyway. I am posting this because I want to highlight just how difficult it is to be a POC in this fandom. Army preach about being this or being that. We love each other. We look out for each other. ARMY is family blah blah blah.

No we’re not.

I have been an ARMY since 2015. The only places I have ever found comfort within this fandom are with other POCs, and even then it is only a few people here and there. This random ass hoe that I have NEVER interacted with before decided to take the fact I am a POC and taunt me, attack me, harass me, whatever you want to call it, and didn’t come off anon until I forced them off.

I am so beyond tired of being a POC in this fandom. When will you all recognize that one “I stand by” post is never enough to support us. “I can’t be racist I support BTS’s message💜” shut the hell up. You kiss these men’s feet for being your woke kings but then turn around and say things like this. Was it fun? Was it cool parading around in your ‘I do whatever BTS does’ cloak? You guys pick and choose when you want to be a model ARMY, and then turn around do things like this. Over kpop. Your allyship means nothing when there are still people like this in fandom who try to bully me OVER KPOP. OVER JUNGKOOK. OVER A MAN WE DONT KNOW AND NEVER WILL KNOW.

Please don’t interact with this person. Please just block and report them.

Anon’s gonna be off for a while, thanks for reading.

#please read #negative

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onewfantaesy · 3 years

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Slytherpuff au

“So what’s your favorite class so far?”

“Herbology!”

Kibum snorts from across the table, and Taemin can’t help but pout. He turns to Jinki then, who only shrugs, but even Minho looks amused from his seat next to Kibum. You’d think Kibum would be laughing quieter considering he’s a Ravenclaw currently sitting in the library.

“Are you just Jinki’s mini-me or something?” Kibum finally asks.

“No!” Taemin immediately whines.

“Hey!” Jinki whines back. “What’s wrong with being my mini-me?”

“Herbology is cool,” Taemin says, ignoring the way Jinki jabs a finger in his ribs. “You’re probably just bad at it.”

“I’ll have you know I’m top of my class,” Kibum scoffs. “In everything!”

“So you’re a nerd,” Taemin teases, narrowing his eyes despite the smirk tugging at his lips. Kibum just kicks his leg underneath the table, which makes Taemin yelp louder than intended, which makes the librarian come over and shush them. Taemin immediately shrinks into Jinki’s side, clearly afraid of getting points taken or being given a detention. It only makes Kibum and Minho snort again, albeit quieter than they did before.

“You were s’posed to help me with my Transfiguration homework,” Taemin whines quietly to Jinki, giving one harsh tug to the sleeve of Jinki’s robes. “If you’re not gonna help, I’ll just go find Nini.”

“Here, here,” Jinki assures him, pulling Taemin’s textbook closer. “Tell me what you’re having trouble with, and I’ll try my best to help.”

They go over Taemin’s homework for half an hour before he finally seems to grasp the concept, and then he’s off to find his friends. With one pouty glance, he says goodbye to Kibum and Minho as well, and then he’s scurrying out of the library.

“You didn’t tell us he was your mini-me,” Kibum says once Taemin leaves.

“Yeah, we thought he was gonna be like all those other Suju kids,” Minho adds. “Isn’t he even the heir?”

“After his dad,” Jinki says, waving a hand. “My mom says he takes after our side of the family more, though. Said she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d ended up in Hufflepuff.”

“Why do you think he didn’t?” Kibum asks.

“Probably too afraid of what his father’s family would think,” Jinki admits with a sigh. “There’s a lot more of them, you know. I think it’s hard for him sometimes.”

“What, being the heir?”

“Feeling like the odd man out,” Jinki says softly. “They’re not bad people, I’ve met them all tons of times, but they’re all very Slytherin. Uncle Heechul is the only one who didn’t marry another Slytherin.”

“Does that even really matter once you’re out of school?” Minho asks.

“Some families take it more seriously than others,” Kibum tells him. “But even my family has mostly been sorted into Ravenclaw, and both my parents are half-bloods. I know they’re happier I’m in their house.”

“It’s just all politics,” Jinki huffs. “But Taemin has a lot of pressure, being the heir.”

“Well you’re an heir too, aren’t you?” Minho asks. “You said that last year, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but Taemin is my only other cousin. It’s just Auntie Taeyeon and my mom. There’s not as much rivalry, I guess.”

“Wouldn’t there be more rivalry then?” Minho asks.

“I dunno,” Jinki admits with a sigh. “Uncle Heechul’s family is just more intense. There’s just so many of them, it’s insane.”

They’re all quiet for a while, going back to studying for the time being. Then Jinki chuckles a little bit, and he looks up and holds his chin in his palm.

“D’you want me to see if I can get you guys invited to the family Christmas party?” Jinki asks. “You’d get to see Taemin in all his little heir glory.”

“Oh you’ve got to get us invited now,” Kibum begs.

“Would I even be allowed to come?” Minho asks, frowning.

“Muggleborn or not, you’re my friend,” Jinki says. “I’ll write my mom tonight and ask. I think it’d be fun.”

“To a family party though?” Kibum asks.

“Family and friends,” Jinki shrugs. “I’ll write my mom. It’s usually a couple days before Christmas.”

It turns out the Suju family and friends Christmas party is quite the event. There’s tons of people there, they even recognize a few other students from school aside from the Suju cousins. Minho and Kibum stick close to Jinki though, clearly feeling out of place in a party full of mostly Slytherins. But what catches their attention most, however, is the sight of Taemin in fancy dress robes, his hair perfectly combed, standing between what can only be his father and grandfather. They make sure to greet every guest that enters the grandfather’s manor, but Kibum doesn’t miss the shadow of a pout that tugs at Taemin’s face when he has to greet them.

“Grandfather,” they hear Taemin ask in a quiet voice, “can I go stay with Jinki now?”

“You’re eleven now, Taemin,” the old man says. “You’re a student at Hogwarts. It’s time you start taking your role as heir more seriously.”

“Once everyone’s arrived, we can go find Mommy, hmm?” Heechul says softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Taemin’s ear. “It shouldn’t be much longer now.”

“As soon as I came last year, he was allowed to just wander around with me,” Jinki says to his friends, his voice quiet. “Come on, let’s go find something to eat. Taemin will be around soon.”

It’s an hour before Taemin eventually finds them, and he clings to Jinki and frowns at him. He starts whining about heir duties and snotty Ministry officials and boring conversations until Jinki just stuffs an appetizer in his mouth to shut him up. Taemin frowns at him still, but he ends up grabbing another off Jinki’s plate.

“Grandfather’s extra stuffy this year,” Taemin says, his words muffled around the food shoved in his mouth. “He wouldn’t even let me wear the robes Mommy bought me, he made me wear these itchy ones Grandmother made, because they have the family crest and pattern and color and blah blah blah.”

He scratches at his collar as if to prove that it’s uncomfortable, which makes Jinki laugh, but Kibum and Minho are still a bit uncomfortable at such a formal party. They don’t want to say anything against their host, especially since they aren’t actually family.

“Why’d you bring these two knobheads?” Taemin whines. “I thought you couldn’t bring anyone unless you were dating. Are you a throuple?”

“Where the hell did you learn that word?” Jinki snaps at him.

“Heard Baekhyun say it,” Taemin says, shrugging. “In the common room.”

Baekhyun is only a year older than Taemin. Jinki has a feeling Baekhyun heard it from another Suju cousin, most likely Chanyeol.

“Don’t say words like that,” Jinki scolds him lightly. “It’s not polite.”

“You didn’t tell me how you got to invite them,” Taemin says. “I’d have invited Nini if I knew I could.”

“I’m sorry,” Jinki says softly. “I didn’t think about inviting him. I’ll ask next year for you, alright?”

“No, it’s not alright,” Taemin whines, a frown on his face. “I hate these stupid parties and now you have friends here and I don’t. It’s not fair.”

“Do you want to go dance?” Jinki asks, and it effectively distracts Taemin long enough to make him forget he’s annoyed with him.

There’s plenty of people dancing, it’s not out of the ordinary. Besides, Jinki usually has Taemin dance with him, twirling him around and making him laugh and the two of them dancing silly together. It’s never been a problem before. No one has ever told them not to. It’s not even a couple-y kind of dance, it’s to fast songs, not since Taemin was little enough to stand on Jinki’s feet as he swayed around to slower songs. Besides, Taemin likes dancing. Has fun with it. Has the biggest smile on his face the entire time.

Until Chanyeol tugs Taemin away, harshly, and hisses at him before he can whine about it, “Grandfather’s orders.” He jerks his head towards their grandfather then, and he’s using a single finger to summon Taemin over to him, and Jinki can just feel the way Taemin immediately starts to get anxious.

It’s not an appropriate way for his heir to be acting, his grandfather says. He needs to have more decorum, his grandfather says. He needs to start acting more mature, his grandfather says.

Taemin ends up sitting at a table between his parents, his mother whispering to him, his father holding an arm around the back of Taemin’s chair. He has an intense pout on his face, and it doesn’t get any better even as his mother continues whispering to him.

“But what’s wrong with being like Jinki?” Taemin asks his mother. “With being like you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with that,” Taeyeon says quickly. “Nothing at all. Your grandfather just wants you to start learning how to be a head of the family since you’re getting older.”

“A head of the family isn’t allowed to dance?” Taemin asks.

“We’ll discuss it more at home,” Heechul says then, effectively ending the conversation.

“Just think of how much fun we’ll have tomorrow night, baby,” she says gently, smoothing back Taemin’s hair.

Tomorrow night is the family Christmas party with just Taeyeon’s side of the family. Taemin can’t wait. It’s a million times less stuffy and annoying and he actually gets to play with Jinki and talk with his aunt and uncle and his other grandparents. His Grandpa Yunho is much nicer than his Grandfather Sooman. Taemin has told him so a million times. Yunho always just laughs when his youngest grandson says that, insists it’s only because he always gives Taemin candy and chocolate frogs when he sees him.

“But why do Suho and Xiumin and Chen and Chanyeol and Kyungsoo and Baekhyun get to have fun?” Taemin asks, his voice small. “It’s not fair.”

“I used to think the same thing when I was your age, when my brothers got to go have fun while I had to do all the grown up heir duties at these types of parties,” Heechul assures him. “It’s just part of life, sweetheart.”

“But they’re all older than me, it’s no fair.”

“But they aren’t the heir,” Heechul says. “You are. And that comes with a different set of rules, I’m afraid.”

“Why doesn’t Grandpa Yunho make Jinki do these sorts of things?”

“Your mother’s family just has a different set of rules than ours does,” Heechul explains. “Every family is different, Taemin. I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”

“When you’re head of the family, can you change the rules then?”

Heechul gives him a stern look and a frown, so Taemin pouts and turns to stare at his half-empty goblet of pumpkin juice instead.

“Why don’t you come with me to get some cider?” Taeyeon suggests, already standing from her seat and holding out a hand for Taemin to hold. He takes it gladly, and they take their time getting cider and having a hushed conversation by the refreshments.

When Taeyeon points out a bit of magic that’s making little snow figures skate around a punch bowl, Taemin smiles and giggles and starts talking with her about all the different little charms throughout the ballroom. The two of them go on a little charms hunt then, finding all the different enchantments to turn the usually stuffy ballroom into a winter wonderland.

“Looks wise, he’s all Uncle Heechul,” Jinki explains to his friends. “But his personality is pretty much entirely Auntie Taeyeon. It can make things difficult for him, when he’s with his dad’s family.”

“Why did they even get married if they’re so different then?” Kibum asks.

Jinki just smiles at his friends.

“Because they love each other.”

It’s as simple as that, and their love for each other and for Taemin is clear when they’re together. Heechul’s face softens at the sight of his wife and son. Taeyeon lights up when she’s around Heechul and Taemin. They both adore Taemin more than anything. But that doesn’t always make extended family dynamics any easier to navigate. It’s something Kibum and Minho learn quickly from that party.

#taemin #shinee #onew #key #minho #heechul #taeyeon #slytherpuff au

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dishwater-blondie · 3 years

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"Fanfic Writer Ask Meme: a, b, d, h, i, j, k, m, n, q, v, t, z (okay, maybe they're too many 😅)" Oops, I'm a real disaster! I realized it's from a February meme ... 😳🤦 Sorry!

Oh, I know what you’re talking about now! I’ve already answered a few of these but it’s been a long time, so I think I’ll take another stab at it.

A: Of the fanfic you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

I am incredibly proud of the entire TBOG series because it is the largest project I’ve ever tackled and I really love the way it turned out, but my favorite single fic that I’ve ever written is Do You See Me/I See You. I think it encapsulates almost everything I love about Gabenath, and in my opinion it’s some of my best writing overall.

B: What was the first fandom you read fic in? Which was the first you wrote fic for?

Warrior Cats for both answers! I wrote Warriors fan fiction from 2012-2018.

D: What’s the most personal fanfic you’ve written?

This one is hard to answer because I’ve never written a fic with the conscious intention of connecting it to my life. That said, I’m sure a lot of them include a lot of personal shit that I don’t realize is there most of the time. I will say there are definitely a couple drabbles in Inkwell that I relate to deeply.

H: How would you describe your writing style?

Wordy. Purple. I clearly like to hear myself talk. XD

I: How many fandoms have you written in? Do you have a favorite?

I’ve written for Warrior Cats, Telltale’s The Walking Dead, The Legend of Korra, and Miraculous Ladybug. I loved writing for Warriors back in the day, but I think I’ve found my place with ML and Gabenath.

J: What’s your favorite fanfic trope? Have you written it?

The one that comes to mind right now is Slow Burn. Not even, like, 150k word slow burn, but slow burn in that there’s this steady increase of tension that eventually breaks (or doesn’t break. Unresolved Tension is amazing too). I’ve written it before. It’s fun. I’m also big on Enemies to Lovers but I’ve never written that one.

K: Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

Lol, Sharing a Bed is one of my faves. It’s just so sweet and intimate.

M: What’s the weirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with? Did it turn into a story?

Yeah, I’m not really one for AUs. I’ve never come up with any crazy ones. I like a soft AU.

N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share?

Oh geez so many. I have so many ideas. Please help I’m drowning in them. But one that I will disclose is that I want to write a fic where Gabriel and Nathalie have a pre-relationship kiss - which sounds so blah when I type it out, but I realized that over 22 fics I’ve never written it (wait that’s a lie - I have. I’ve just never written it on Ao3), and that feels like a wrong I need to correct.

Q: Do you like getting prompts from your readers?

When I ask for them, yes! Absolutely!

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

I’ll never be a fan of Crack. They’re just not my sense of humor. I take everything way too seriously, even my silly children’s cartoons. XD

V: Are there certain comments you’ve received on your stories that have stuck with you?

I’ve been told that I have a very striking way of describing emotion. The first time I told that was actually in a workshop in college, but I heard it a couple times thereafter in comments on fics and it always sticks with me.

Z: Is there a story you’ve written that doesn’t seem to get much love?

I kinda wish Inkwell got more attention, but I’m also aware that because it’s a collection of drabbles, there isn’t always much to say about them. They’re so short. The things that people have commented have been so sweet and lovely, though.

Thank you for asking all of these questions, Anon!

#fanfic asks

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vicsep7250 · 5 years

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@ren-amamiyaa and their (he/she?) Golden Heist, Thief Nanako and Cryptid Chaser aus flooded my brain and now Im making this post bc I cant fit all of this in asks!!!

All right, so, idea. Cryptid Chasers, Thief Nanako and Golden Heist are all connected righr???

CC acts as a prequel, TN becomes the inbetween starring Nanako and Akechi, and GH stars a broken and older IT and slightly jaded PT.

So far CC has Yosuke and Naoto forming the brotp that fanon wanted through silly Saturday Night Ghost Chasers Shenanigans, Akiren is bein' a lil shit at midnight bc he needs an outlet and exercise to Phantom Thief. While this goes on, Akechi's ghost/spirit/rement/heart/whatever pulls pranks and shenans along with Joker (hiwever that happens).

As the Cryptid Chasers keep going out of their way to confront Joker about Arsene (bc even he likes to mess around) the other IT in Inaba start to try and stop them from disrupting the peace (read : harassing a known criminal) and this somehow leads to a falling out. Mayhaps Naoto and Yosuke break a few laws and Chie busts them, Kanji wants to know why theyre stalking his student/protege, and Yukiko just wants to keep the rumors about the inn in check bc jfc Yosuke STOP SCREECHING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT IN THE LOBBY THERE IS NO GHOST ON THE TV!

Maybe eventually they call it quits or dont bc Naoto dug this hole too deep to climb out themself and Yosuke is having the time of his life since Partner isnt around and hasn't come back to visit yet (Not sayin' souyo is canon and there but-). And the Cryptid Chasers arc probably ends here with there being some animosity towards their shenanigans , but the IT are all still friends.

Now fast forward to like, uhhh (*flings dart at wall of calendars*) 2014 during winter and Akiren's cryptid acts are now fully accepted and maybe exposed, who knows. Nanako is like 10 ~ 12 (P5 is maybe three/five years post P4 I believe) and is just going through the motions of public education. I.E. go to class, do work, get good grades. Dojima is still the same as he was before Yu came but is at least doing better at being a dad, not much but better. Yosuke and Ted aren't around as much bc Junes, Chie is transferred to Tokyo, Yukiko is busy managing the Inn, and Kanji is busy with work (as a teacher and crafts business owner). Rise unfortunately cant come visit and Big Bro now visits every other year.

Nanako starts to look back and wonder how things started to fall apart amongst the group and recalls that "delinquent" who came back at the same time the Cryptid^tm showed up and ruined the group. So now she starts to remember the good times when Big Bro came by and starts to notice some blanks around winter... Why was she in the hospital when she got kidnapled? Why does she remember these weird flashes of Big Bro and his friends and some monster?? And how come she tried to ask them anything about it they brushed her off each time???

The TV in her room flashes and soon she starts hearing things. She starts to move closer to the tv, as if she was in some sort of trance, as the sounds start to become voices to her. When she's directly infront of the screen she sees something... someone on it...

Nanako doesnt show up for breakast, or to school, and nobody seems to have seen her.

A full year passes on after that day. It starts off with a big search party of the IT and Social Links for the first two months, then after ankther three something stange happens... are people forgetting that Nanako existed or something? Everybody's starting to act like completely different peoplw than who they are too, some even end up hospitalozed due to severe headaches and such, and start claiming that Nanako was never around when she vanished or that she left Inaba or was already deamed dead or missing. This rings alarms in the IT's mimds as they search for answers, eventually all fully reuniting for the first time in years/months.

Naoto and Yosuke blame themselves bc they piece together her disappearance with the Cryptid + Ghost case and immediately get scolded for trying to pin their stupid kids game on a missing person's case - especially now with Nanako missing and possibly in danger again! Afterwards the IT are a bit on edge and a bit broken with the whole thing. Meanwhile Akechi can hear the tale ends of "missing person" and "literal disappearnace" and starts looking into this weird limbo metaverse he's in bc some shit is kinda fucked in here now for some reason. They're pretty much only together as a team to rescue Nanako.

GH in the PTs POV starts when Akiren invites the group to the Amagi Inn thanks to licrative money grin- I mean training. He comes clean into having seen something weird on the tv one late night and wants to let the gang know.

Midnight rolls around and Akechi shows up on the screen and the Thieves losing their shit is an understatement - numerous noise complaints were filed that night. Anyways Akechi decides to just play the role of "hey moron, some shits fucked come help fix it" and ends up informing them of a missing girl and this weird TV Mementos world he is in.

I would like to note that Akechi is not at all bitter or confused at everyone's circumstances in life, no of course not Joker stop crying I know its been a while but shutup theres a kid in trouble rn and youre the only ones who can possibly help her.

When the PT figure out a plan to reach this other world Goro is in (Arsene : THOUARTTHEESTICKYOURHANDINTHETVDOITDOITDOITDOIT) the IT eventually come to the very sad conclusion that Nanako moght be in the TV world and that opens a whole can of worms and burnable bridges to cross.

While in the TV world, I'd like to imagine that due to Akechi having been there for a good while it has been shaped to reflect his heart and be the new overall theme of that world. It all still looks like Inaba, but it all holds themes to Akechi and his no good terrible life. However due to Nanako having been in that world as a kid, and now for an uncertain amount of time, the world now holds motifs to the Heaven area from P4, but it's all sorta ruined and kinda darker.

When both teams get together and enter the weird Tele-Mentos world (IT in a Junes storage and PT at either Ren's pad [bc he moved out obvi] (OR bith teams enter from seperate TVs at the Inn so SHENANS!)) Yu and the IT go through Akechi's influenced world/TV Palace, finding out about his tragic backstory and involvement with the PT, but anything that can and could reveal their true identities is blurred and staticy or missing bc Akechi aint gonna snitch out who ruined his sperm donors life (also I guess saved the world too yeah). While going through the Palace the Team starts to think that finding Goro will just be an "if it happens" sort of deal bc he's been missing for years already, what if we just leave him here bc M U R D E R E R.

Cue a sudden appearance by someone in some sort of fallen angel garb who starts whipping out a full on Metal Gear Villain monologue about how hypocritical the IT are when they find the truth about Akechi's life and disappearance - they claimed to want to live in a world where no one hides in the fig, was that all a lie? Are they going back on their word, and hiding behind a shriud of lies and falsehoods once more? "You've gone and lied and hidden the truth already, what's to say you won't continue?"

Meanwhile Akiren and the Thieves enter at the very top of the Heaven TV Set and have to climb all the way down. As they do so they start seeing little murals or epitaphs about memories and people in this girls life. They see all of these memories of a happy girl who had such a loving family - both found and by blood. As they go further and further down the ruins start to look like an actual Heaven, and the scenary becomes more bright and colorful. Eventually they might run into Crow in his Black Mask clothes and give the bastard a slug on the arm and a group hug or two, bc man he doesn't deserve to suffer anymore like this.

Now that the Phantom Thieves have been reunited (Akechi : I can't leave this world The PT : FUCK, MORE PLOT) they end up thinking up ways to get Akechi out until this weird angel priest looking dude shows up and starts babling about how they are criminals and how they've done more bad than good and blah blah blah. Everyone is just all "We're the good guys, we do the right thing even if its morally grey/ambiguous!" and oh look! Another crazed maniac wants to kill us for our "injustice" *Crow has the decency to look away and not say anything* annnnnnd Heaven is locked off. Perfect.

Now maybe the Phantom Thieves and Investigation Team run into each other somewhere in Akechi's Palace and "You have Personas?!?!" "The hell is a Palace?" "YOU'RE THE CRYPTID OF INABA!!?!?" "And Im the 'Ghost' that follows him." "Wait you followed me as a ghost?" "WAIT WHY ARE THERE TWO AKECHIS??!??!!"

Oh yeah, Shadows... Akechi is still kinda in denial about the whole friends and justice thing...

And now the Dark Priest is back great ("Good name Skull" "Well I've got my moments right?").

Annnnnnnd now I have no idea what happens next and Im all burned out but AAAAAAAAA this entire AU crossover thing is so GOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!

#persona #persona 5 #persona 4 #golden heist au #thief nanako au #cryptid chasers au #this is all one big idea made of a communities own ideas #its like the zelda timeline all over again #byt good!#ren-amamiyaa

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synchronysymphony · 5 years

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Hi anon!! ☀️ it’s so nice to hear from you!! And how flattering that you came to me to vent 😊

I know how you feel, because Enjolras is my very favorite character ever, and I absolutely love him with all my heart. Once, I was feeling sick at a gig, and I pulled up a drawing of him to look at, and I actually immediately felt better 😂 So it makes me so sad when people are mean to him! I get that he’s a fictional character, and people can write whatever they want— that’s totally fair. I would never speak to anyone about this or tell them to stop, because they have the right to do what they want! Fiction is for fun (among other things), and if someone wants to thoroughly misrepresent this good, loving character? They can be my guest! But I’m still going to be umami about it.

I agree that it’s sad when people represent him so poorly. I made a post about him awhile ago detailing some of the things he does that I love, and I could honestly go on for ages about why he represents hope just as much as Cosette does, and why all the light imagery is so fitting because he’s a light in the world, and blah blah blah. He’s incredibly wonderful, and he’s soft and loving and good just as much as he’s fierce and terrifying. He makes me happy even on my very saddest and darkest days, and because of his message of radical goodness, I’ve become a better person (I know it sounds corny, but I really do think that’s the case).

Now, I know that a lot of people who write these fics may find Grantaire to be relatable. That’s fair! I do too! But you hit the nail right on the head: in order to make him be sympathetic, they have to make his foil be even more of a dick than he is, which means he has to be, as you said, a borderline abusive monster. Because the thing is, Grantaire is a dick! He’s such an asshole, my gosh. And in this strange new push for moral purity, people don’t want to relate to a character whom they deem Bad, so they have to defang him in order to make him palatable. They victimize him so that none of his bad behavior is his fault, and he can be absolved of blame. Then, he’s just a poor little sad shy baby who suffers from so many problems, not the least of them being an uptight, self-righteous, awful boyfriend who says mean things for no reason and has really bad takes on literally everything because he’s so naive.

I think, too, that people who write these fics suffer from what I call the DC-Comic Syndrome. That is, everything has to be dark and cynical and chock-full of gritty realism (though really, DC is getting a lot better about that now, so I may have to rename that). Problem is, they don’t really think it through, so their arguments do come down to criticizing Enjolras for having hope. It’s cool to be cynical and jaded, because it’s more intellectual, and smarter, and wanting to change the world is silly and childish, and Grantaire is obviously therefore the epitome of cool. He’s smart and cultured and well-read, yes. But that doesn’t mean that he’s anything more than the 19th century equivalent of that annoying guy in your philosophy class who “just wants to play devil’s advocate” every time someone opens their mouth.

Then, too, there’s the poor characterization. I’ve seen people say things like “oh Grantaire is better than Enjolras because he actually cares about people” like wow, did we read the same book? Grantaire is awful to people, including his friends, may I add! They tolerate him because of his good humor-- I don’t have my book on me, so I don’t have a page number, but it’s in there-- not because he has anything salient to say, or even because he’s particularly nice to be around. When Bossuet mentions that he’s drinking an awful lot, he immediately shoots back by criticizing the hole in his clothing. Sure, it’s funny, but it’s not very good proof that he’s a warm and cuddly friend. Enjolras, on the other hand, canonically stands around thinking about how great his friends are. He gives Grantaire a chance, even though they both know that he doesn’t believe in the cause, and when Grantaire flubs it, he still happily shares a death with him, he’s ready to exchange Javert for Jehan, and he feels such empathy for the artillery sergeant that he claims him as his brother, and cries when shooting him. He’s a very loving person! I think a big problem is that he isn’t so nice to Grantaire, and this makes people think of him in a poor light. But we have to remember how much Grantaire antagonizes, and yes, endangers him. If we look at the facts, we see that Enjolras is very tolerant of him, all things considered. I think one of his blind spots is his love for his friends, putting that even above the cause, and that extends to Grantaire as well.

I’ve also seen so many fics wherein les amis threaten to abandon Enjolras, or threaten him with harm, or don’t listen to his side of the story, or yes, physically assault him, and it’s framed as good. It drives me up the wall! Les amis love Enjolras just as much as he loves them! They mess with him, sure, but they obviously love him a lot, and they would never treat him that way. If he was actually cruel or abusive, yes, I could see them being harsher with him, but that’s a moot point, because he would never. In the original French, he shows his anger with Javert by switching from “vous” to “tu.” He cries, he sits around quietly and listens to his friends talk, he even goes so far as to give the title of leader to Marius. He’s an angel, that’s what he is, and he would never act in the ways that these fics portray. And his friends know that, and it’s obvious that they do, because they feel comfortable following him even to the death. He’s not the conditional member; Grantaire is. Grantaire is the one whose beliefs don’t mesh with theirs; whose ideology can be summarized as “belligerently contrarian”; whose very personality is abrasive and crude. He’s the one who’s only tolerated because of his good humor; Enjolras is there because they adore him, and share the same beliefs that he does. I think it’s a disservice to les amis to see them as any less passionate and earnest as Enjolras, and to portray them as anything less than loving towards one of their dear friends. Think of the controversy if they all were written to turn on Jehan or Joly. There would be a public outcry! The fic writer would be anathematized! So it doesn’t make any more sense for them to turn on Enjolras like that.

Am I saying that everything has to be a fluffy, happy coffeeshop AU? No, definitely not. I think that mode of thinking is very disturbing, actually. Conflict is good, and characters should do problematic and downright shitty things. But when those shitty things are framed by the narrative as good, then it becomes a lot more suspicious. It’s bad writing, is what it is, and I know that I, who am also a bad writer, have no point from which to speak, but I can recognize poor characterization, at least, and this fandom is full of it.

Anyway, I’m sorry that I went on so long! I got a little heated. You put it much better than I did, but in short, I agree with you, and I don’t read a lot of fic these days either, unless it’s by a Trusted Source, or by me. Thank you for sending me this! I’m always down to talk about Les Mis or Enjolras or anything at all, really! I hope you have a fantastic day!!!

p.s. I think you might be interested in this fic by (my girlfriend!!) @amiedelabaisse 😊

#ask #anon #les mis #enjolras #sunshine angel #my love my baby my delight #I could talk about him all day

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sleeping-is-for-the-weak-nerds · 6 years

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OKAY, PART 3, HERE WE GO!

((You guys really like this au apparently.))

“Hey Pat, how are y-- what are you wearing.” Roman stopped when he saw the jacket Patton had on. Over the cute dark lavender dress with black ruffles, Patton had traded his usual grey kitten sweater to a denim jacket with the phrase “If lost return to Virgil” on it on one big iron on patch, that actually looked to be sewn on.

“Oh hey bro-bro! Virgil said that since we’re heading to the planetarium today for a field trip, he wanted me to wear this!” Patton chirped, jumping in place in excitement.

“Ah, I see.” Roman said, mentally giving Virgil a admirable nod in approval, since his brother got excited and ran off a lot, even though they were in their junior year of high school. Then his eyes narrow when he hears one voice he was sick of come around the corner. Or, well, he thinks it makes him sick. His stomach flips, his cheeks go red (though no one can tell due to his tawny skin), his breath shortens, and his heart skips a beat. Sounds like a stomach ache or a heart attack.

“--And we get to see all of the constellations, including, apparently, a brand new one, which is exciting for multiple reasons, one being--” Logan.

“Blah blah blah, do you ever shut up, Microsoft Nerd?” Roman spat out, making the red-head shut his mouth as his cheeks went a nice rosy hue.

“Do you ever use your brain, you bull-headed--”

~~**~~

At three in the morning, Roman sits up in realization, after the dream he had.

“It’s probably nothing,” he said, raking a hand through his curly hair.

Logan looked at him, his eyes shining with what he knew to be love as they danced around the ballroom.

“I had a nice night, Roman. Thank you.” Logan said.

“I had a wonderful evening as well, Logan.” Roman said back. The two leaned in, and--

Roman shook his head to dispel the dream from his head, his stomach flipping, his heart pounding, his cheeks burning. It’s almost as if--

Roman freezes. Everything clicks into place.

“Oh no. I like Specs. Oh god. Oh no.” He sprints down the hall, grateful for his track skills, to his brother’s door, and slams it open.

“Patton, you’re never gonna believe this.”

~~**~~

Logan was a little miffed, and a miffed Logan is not a Logan to be around, everyone in the school knew that.

Roman’s been off all week, and he even abruptly stopped arguing with him something Roman’s never done before, ever.

Patton has also been weird, giggling every time Logan asks about Roman, not that he’s worried about the oaf.

Logan huffed, and set his chin atop his palm, staring at the top actor/track team captain, who was messing around with his friends from the theater department.

Roman put a spoon on his nose and made multiple silly faces, all while quoting Shakespeare in a horrible British accent.

Logan smiled and chuckled at the handsome man, and--

Logan’s mind screeched to a stop at what he just thought. He didn’t...like Roman, did he? He thought back to all the fights and took in all of the symptoms.

Flushed face, irregular heartbeat, his stomach felt like it was in knots whenever Roman smiled, his mind wondered to Roman a lot now that he thought about it, like his muscles, and whenever he spoke Spanish, oh, that especially got him, and oh god he liked Roman Gomez,an prick is mó riamh*, what the fuck.

Logan abruptly stood up and went to the Student Council room where Virgil ate during lunch with Patton. He slammed open the door and said only one thing.

“Virgil, we have a problem.”

*According to google translate, this means ‘the biggest prick ever, but correct me if I’m wrong, my family’s from Scotland, and I’m trying to learn Scottish Gaelic, so idk if they’re the same. Also, no pictures, since @officialwaterfairy got to the Patton picture before me, a legend, truly. Oh, and yeah, Patton and Roman’s last name is Gomez. I thought it fit them both. Roman is indeed the track team captain and the leading actor for the plays. How he does it, I’ll never know, all I know is that while Roman being on the football team is cool and all, I wanted to see something different.

Taglist:

@officialwaterfairy @sammy-is-obsessed @wildhorsewolf @fuckmymentalhealth @puns-and-patton @onalllevelsexceptphysicalimlogan @roxiefox24 @lordvoidghost @curlycutiekinz @vir-gull @mandeebobandee @ravenclawangst @khadij-al-kubra @allycat31415 @punsterterry @the-fandoms-are-takin-over

#high school au #moxiety #logince #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman

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fandomn00blr · 5 years

Text

Ser Agatha

I don’t even know where to put this or what to call it...I’ve already basically written this woman’s entire life story and I can’t stop. I don’t really have any OCs, but I feel like I’ve adopted her now. I needed a not-terrible Templar to put into my DA2 endgame rewrite to talk some sense into Cullen and she was like, the only Templar in Kirkwall left alive (because I never did her quest, because I’m not a Templar-sympathizer!) who wasn’t a complete piece of shit. I think she deserves better than some of the super disturbing non-con and rape stuff she’s tagged in on AO3, so this is going to be another part of my quickly spiralling-out-of-control endgame AU and did I mention I love her? (Rough WIP intro to her backstory below the pic, which is from https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Agatha...)

“You and Aveline are far better at all of this than I ever was. And you have Bethany’s help, and the Provisional Viscount’s, too. Kirkwall will not miss me. Nor I it, if I’m being truthful.”

“Ser Cullen -- ”

“You know I’m right! At least in this...”

“That may be so, but I will miss you, my friend.” She smiled warmly, a rare thing from her, he knew. Then she cleared her throat and grasped his forearm, nodding. “Don’t forget about what happened here when you’re all high and mighty serving the Divine.”

“I could never…”

“Well, actually, try to forget the really ugly parts that might keep you up at night. But remember the hope that followed that awful night, and all the good work we’ve done since. What’s that silly old hymn that the Left Hand is always humming?”

“The Dawn Will Come?”

Cullen could hear the haunting tune in his head. An old prayer, older than the Chant of Light, probably. One that had gotten him through some of his darkest times, too.

“Yeah, that. Always seems more like a threat as it reverberates from the back of her throat, but the message is a good one, I think, anyway. Blah blah blah...there’s always hope.”

Those words, that emphasis -- she hadn’t meant to, but she was repeating someone else’s words. She winced. It had been years, but it still stung.

“Orsino used to say that to the mages when they were...troubled, didn’t he?”

He used to say it to me, too. Even whispered it into my ear once like a precious secret just between the two of us. Too bad it hadn’t been enough for him...

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t remember.” She waved her hand dismissively. It was hardly convincing, but this was Cullen. She hoped he wouldn’t press her on it.

It had been almost three years since their showdown with Meredith, and she still couldn’t bear to think about what had happened to Orsino. Even though she knew better, she just had to believe that there was no way the Abomination they’d found in the Gallows Prison that night had been him. Because if it had been him, she could only imagine how broken his spirit had become, and then she couldn’t help but wonder…

No. These were thoughts that had no place in her life. It was a tightly-scheduled thing. Because it had to be. No room for uncertainty or regret. Or anything that could jeopardize the taut, calibrated routine she’d spent the past decade refining. To protect her. Her precious Wilo. No matter the cost. No matter the long hours at the Gallows, followed by the anxious ride across the Harbor that only seemed to take longer and longer now that her daughter’s magic had begun to manifest. The hurried, but not-too-hurried steps to her apartment in Lowtown, and the way she’d learned to unbuckle and unfasten her Templar armor as she walked so as to not lose a single moment more with her to the Order, if she could help it.

It was all worth it for the relief that washed over Agatha as soon as she’d closed the door on the fucked-up world behind her to find her little girl at home with her Nana, impatiently waiting as armor and all the Templar baggage fell to the ground so she could embrace her mother and fill her in on all the events of her mercifully-uneventful days. This whole beautiful world of hers kept hidden and safe inside what appeared to be, from the outside, just another filthy hovel.

Cullen nodded. “I know you two were close.”

You have no idea.

Or did he? No. There was no way he could’ve known. Orsino himself had never even known.

“What happened with the First Enchanter in the end was...regrettable. No, that’s an understatement. I’m sorry, Agatha. That we didn’t get there sooner. Without you, I don’t know that I could have even -- ”

“Yes, well,” she sighed.

She did not have time to dwell on old heartbreak and regrets and guilt and what ifs. Cullen could, and probably would, especially as he suffered the worst effects of lyrium withdrawal in the coming months. But for Agatha, who’d secretly weaned herself off of the stuff when she was pregnant, there was still too much work to be done convincing certain segments of the population that all mages didn’t need to be locked away before she could trust the world with her most precious secret. And there were always new groups of fanatics on all sides to deal with.

“I will try to carry it with me. The hope, that is. I feel like, even with the progress we’ve made here, we will still need it in the days to come. The war rages on in Ferelden. It’s rather odd how things feel more settled here, of all places, isn’t it?” he laughed.

“Aye.”

Ser Agatha needed to get home. Wilo’s magic had become harder for her to control at night. She was almost nine. Agatha had known this was coming, having recognized the girl’s magical abilities from a young age because of her Templar training. Nana, who had looked after her since her birth, had never voiced any concern about the occasional crackling bolt of lightning the girl might produce, having lived comfortably with other apostates throughout her life. But she didn’t want to press their luck, didn’t want to leave it to the old elf woman to have to deal with this tumultuous time anymore than she had to. And there was a part of Agatha, the quiet rebellious streak that she usually managed to keep restrained by honor and duty, that wanted to see what her baby girl was capable of. What she’d inherited from her father.

#dragon age 2 #ser agatha #cullen #orsino #wilona casimira (OC)#my writing #templar critical #Lost and Found DA2 endgame canon divergence #disaster Templars

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axela-storm · 5 years

Text

Werewolf AU : 10. Dreams and new friends (part I)

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

The dreams started being more and more frequent, Melamory could see things clearer, with more details, sounds, smells.

She wasn't frightened because of these dreams, she felt good, being in this imaginary place, for her it was like a new adventure, a little scary but very interesting. It was like a discovery to a new world, of which only she knew.

The walks through this green valley she loved, the fireflies accompanied her all the time.

She didn’t see the defocused white creature anymore, nor did she hear the voice.

But she felt that someone was watching her in silence but very attentively.

The sky there looked a lot like the sunset sky, but it was constant with the same colors, it looked like the time in this place has stopped.

Upon waking Melamory thought a moment about her dream, smiled and went to prepare to go to school.

Days at school passed quickly. Melamory was preparing for her exams and spent a lot of time in the library with her two best friends.

Aeri and Shina were two girls from her class, and ,since they were little, they were together studying, making mischief, going shopping and watching movies in the cinema.

"Hey, Mory, did you know that soon there will be an Autumn Ball? Will you come?" asked Aeri, a girl with brown hair and a cheeky face.

"I don’t know really, I have not thought about this yet. And you Aeri, will you go?"

"Of course I'll go, what do you think, I want to see who will be the Kings of the Autumn Ball this year."

"Do not tell me you want to win, Aeri?" Shina was looking at Aeri with an incredulous face.

"And why not? I'm gorgeous, and I'll be the Queen this year ..."

"Blah blah blah, you say this every year .." Shina shrugged and rolled her eyes.

"This year I will be the Queen !!!!"

"Girls, do not argue so loudly, we're in the library, they're going to kick us out."

"Damn, I forgot it..."

Shina was laughing, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand.

"Shina, do you want to die?" Aeri asked in a voice similar to snake hiss.

"Girls please .."

"By the way, is there a boy you like Mory?", Aeri was unstoppable.

Melamory's face blushed slightly.

“Dear God, Aeri, what questions are those?"

"I don't know, normal? No? Shina likes Jin, who is in class 3, I like Mun from our class, but I have no idea who you would like, so I ask." Aeri said with fiery curiosity written on her face.

"Here we go, the insane curiosity of our dear friend Aeri." Shina sighed.

"Do not feign innocence Shina, you're also dying to know."

"Not as much as you, ” future Queen of the Ball ", and do not write me down on this, if Mory wants, she'll tell you by herself."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you two, but I do not like anyone, I mean in a romantic way. I have friends, but that's all."

"Hmm ... tell me, do you remember Min Soo from class three? I think he likes you, because he was asking about you a lot." Aeri was playing with a tuft of her hair.

"What? Don't tell me you talked to him?" Shina looked at Aeri.

"Well, I ... it's not my fault, he asked me first." Aeri started defending herself.

"Girls, God, stop your woodswallow chirps, please." Melamory sighed.

"Ok, ok, let's do what we have come to do." Aeri raised her hands, surrendering.

For an hour they were studying silently, but then Aeri started talking again.

"You know, yesterday I saw a very handsome boy in my father's shop, he came with a bike to refuel, he was tall, handsome and had silvery hair, and he had some looks of a dangerous gang member, he wore a black leather jacket ... " Aeri had the face of daydream.

"Once again with guys, Aeri you are incorrigible."

“I tell the truth, I think he is from another city, because one like him does not pass unnoticed in our city, but how handsome he was! Hmmmm..."

"Ok, Ok, and now stop daydreaming and let's finish the job, I have to go home soon" Shina sighed.

When they finished their homework and went to the bus stop, Aeri suddenly shouted.

"Look, it's him !!!" and she pointed to a biker who was standing in front of a pedestrian crossing, waiting for when the traffic light changed.

He was wearing a black leather jacket, dark jeans, and his helmet with tinted glass covered his head. The girls rushed to pass to another side of the street, traffic light changed and the biker accelerated his motorcycle.

"Have you seen? !! It's him, I was telling the truth!" Aeri was jumping.

"Ok, ok, we believe you, Aeri , you're going to blow up hahaha." Melamory started laughing.

"Have you seen how handsome this boy is!!"

"Yes, yes, what are you saying ... Silly girl!!! How are we going to know if he's handsome or not? He was wearing a helmet!!!" Shina was trying to hit Aeri.

Melamory was laughing, her eyes were filled with tears.

"Please, I'm going to die ... ha ha ha ..Aeri ..ha ha ..Shina..ha ha .."

Then the three of them were laughing pointing at each other.

"I see you're going through a lot of wonders together, girls." A cheerful voice released to them.

"Hi mom, what are you doing here?" Melamory asked trying to stop laughing.

"I was in the city and I saw you three here, come in, I'll take you all home." Liz was smiling.

The girls got into the car without stopping talking and laughing.

"Thank you very much Ms. Redgrave!" Shina thanked Liz.

"No problem girls, I see you're having a lot of fun today."

"Of course!! " Aeri replied with a very serious face, but then she started laughing again.

So, talking and laughing they left, after leaving the girls in their homes, Melamory with her mother headed home.

"I'm very happy to see you like that, sweetie, smiling and cheerful, I hope you're having a great time at school."

"Yes, mom, I'm very happy too, I have friends and we have a lot of fun.

You know they're going to make the annual Autumn Ball soon, and the girls are excited. "

"And you? Are you excited too?"

"Not like them, but yes, I also feel excited, a little …… Mom, do you think I'm pretty?"

Liz, almost braking the car, the question left her with her mouth open.

"Of course you're pretty, but why are you asking? Did someone tell you something? What did they tell you? Who were they?"

"No, no, do not worry, I just asked, because I don't feel so much interested in guys like Aeri, right now .."

"Ha ha ha..I thank to God that you are not like Aeri, and do not worry about that, when your time comes, you'll find the person that will be just for you."

"Like you and dad?"

"Hmm, probably..ha ha.. but for now you don't have to hurry, everything will come in due time, sweetie, it may be that you have someone close to you, more than you imagined .. "

"What do you mean by this? Who are you talking about?" Melamory asked surprised.

"Nah, do not pay much attention to me, I feel a little nostalgic to see that my daughter has grown up and now she is a very beautiful and pretty girl"

After arriving home Melamory went to her room, she had free time before dinner and that is why she decided to take a walk.

She changed her clothes and went outside, the air was fresh, it was very noticeable that it was autumn. The leaves of some trees had begun to change their color from green to golden and reddish hues.

"Melamory, don't go too far away, we'll soon have a dinner." Her mother poked her head from the kitchen.

"Okay, I'm going for a walk, I will not be long."

Melamory went down the path that leads to the glade, she wanted to think a bit and relax.

When she arrived there, the wind stopped blowing and everything was silent, Melamory sat supporting her back on a large stone that was there.

"Autumn Ball ..Gosh..."

All the girls were waiting for this event, like every year, preparing their best dresses and talking about the hairstyles and .... About guys ..

Melamory heard the rustle of grass nearby, she opened her eyes and saw Zen, who was approaching her.

"Hello, Zen, did you miss me?"

The wolf lay next to her and put his head between his paws.

She got closer to the wolf, grabbed his head and put it on her lap, then started stroking his head between the ears, slowly and lovingly.

"You know, I do not know why, but you always show up when I need you.

Are you a magical wolf? Can you read my mind? ha ha ha I'm kidding. "

The wolf raised his head and looked into Melamory's eyes, as if trying to say something, but then he lowered his head.

"Today I was thinking, maybe I'm not like my friends, they are pretty girls and they have the boys that they like, dear God ... what am I saying, you probably do not understand me, do you? It doesn't matter, maybe my mother is right, and someday I will find a boy who will like me .. "

Melamory hugged Zen's head. She looked into his eyes.

"Do you think that someday I'll find someone I like and who would think what I'm beautiful?"

Zen started wagging his tail furiously, stood up and licked back the palm of Melamory's hand.

"Oh what a gentleman you are, you're telling me that I'll find him, right?"

"I'll believe you, but it's still too early to think about that, I still have more important things to do, my exams are coming up, and I have to think about my future too, gosh ... choose university, and my profession.

It's a bit difficult, you know. I believe that you have to choose what you really like to do, enjoy the work you do, and be proud of what you are doing. But you need courage to make the right choice ... I feel sleepy ... why ... "

Melamory slowly slid down the stone and fell asleep hugging Zen.

******

"You are here, the strange creature." she heard the whispering voice

"Who are you? And I'm not the strange creature."

"I don't have a name, I don't have it yet ..."

"You don't have a name? Why? Are you alone here?

"I am not alone"

"Where are you? Why I don't see you?"

"You don't see me because you don't want to see me"

"I don't understand you ... I don't want to see you? What do you mean?"

"You still don't want to see me, not yet ..."

"I don't understand, but ... you can talk to me .."

"Yes, and it's strange that you can hear me .."

"That's good, right? So, you will not feel alone, you can talk to me ... if you want."

"Feel lonely? ... You're very strange ... You feel sorry for me? Why?"

"Nobody is happy being alone, without friends, without family ... it's sad ..."

******

Zen was surprised, what happened?

He tried to wake her up, but everything was in vain. Melamory seemed to be unconscious, he started panicking.

He thought for a moment and then ran away, down the road to Melamory's house. He had to warn someone, and he had thoughts about being wary of Melamory's mother. It was not the best option for him, but that didn't matter right now.

Liz was on the porch, watching as Zen ran down the road.

"Where is she?!" Her voice sounded in his head like a thunder.

"She's on the glade, I cannot wake her up, I don't know what's going on, she stayed that way all of sudden, I didn't do anything ..." Zen talked nonstop.

"Stop talking so much, let's go."

With a single movement, she was on the road that went to the glade it seemed that she was running but without touching the earth, Zen could barely keep up with her pace.

Within opening and closing his eyes they were on the spot, Melamory was still in a deep sleep without reacting to anything.

"No, no, no, it's too soon ..." Melamory's mother looked very worried.

"What happened?"

"You ... Go home ... right now .."

"Oh.. yes I ..ok .." Zen didn't know what to do, he was worried about the girl, but Melamory's mother frightened him just by looking at her ..

"GO AWAY!!! "

Zen retired from the glade and ran to the cabin ..

Liz didn't know what to do, but she didn't want things to be that fast, she had to intervene.

"Liz, you can't do this ..." Teo was looking at his wife, his eyes were like a golden flame "You can't intervene, it's too dangerous for Melamory."

"You cannot tell me what I can to do and what I cannot to do! She's my daughter!!!"

"She's my daughter too, but you have to stop ... please ... give our daughter a chance .." Teo approached his wife and hugged her "Our daughter is strong and you know it .."

"I hope so, I didn’t expect this, who will it be? I cannot see beyond, and I cannot enter ..."

"I don't know either, we have to wait ..."

******

" Friends? Family?"

"Yes, friends and family, do you have friends?"

"I do not"

"Why?"

"...."

"I can be your friend if you want."

"You? Why?"

"I don't know, but I feel this will be a good thing for both of us."

Melamory began to see a ball of tenuous white light, it looked like a ball of fog, it started to grow until it reached the size of a basketball.

"That's ... you?"

"Yes, but you have to choose my true name and form"

"Your true form and name?"

"Yes, if you want me to be your friend, choose ..."

"Hmm .."

Melamory closed her eyes, a mysterious melody started sound in her head.

The landscapes were changing one after the other, the unknown creatures plowed through the skies and ran through the earth, all passed by her side, except one ...

A Northern Fox ... white, the tips of its legs were black, the same as the tip of its tail. The eyes of this animal were emerald green ...

Melamory opened her eyes and pronounced loud and clear:

"NAIREL"

Everything around the girl was covered with an aurora borealis of intense colors, thunder sounded very loudly, and lightning flashed from above in the heavens ... and then everything disappeared in a moment, it was only seen in the vast green valley, full of wildflowers. a girl and a white northern fox.

"Nairel .. hmm .. I like this name."

"My name is Melamory, nice to meet you Nairel."

Melamory sat next to northern fox and caressed the animal's head.

"Now, we can be friends, right?"

********

"I cannot believe it, Teo, she got a Fylgjur*, I didn't expect that..."

"What?? But how?? Which of them?"

"Northern Fox … She gave him a name .. Nairel..."

"God .. How come? .. Nairel?!?! It's impossible..."

"Now it doesn't matter, we have to take her home, and quickly ..."

—————————————————

Fylgjur - a guardian spirit, it’s also like a magical family member, who protects and helps his owner.

#zen #zenny #zenwerewolf #werewolf au #werewolf zen #mysme fanfic #wolf zen

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mintyjin · 6 years

Text

neighbor au: choi youngjae

when you moved in, many of your new neighbors came by your apartment to say hello

you tried your best to remember their names and faces, but you just couldn’t

there were too many people and each meeting was exactly the same

“Welcome to the building! Are you a student? Oh, how interesting! Well, do stop by for tea someday soon!”

monotonous, boring, blah

you do remember one person, however

about a week after you moved in, you were waiting on the elevator to take you back to your room when suddenly, a cotton ball attacked you

and then it barked

ok, so it wasn’t a cotton ball, but a small, fluffy white dog

and it was adorable. like really. you almost started crying in the lobby

“Coco, NO!” you hear, and then two hands reach down to pick the tiny dog up

you’re like nononono it’s fINE i love dogs so much

but then you look the owner in the eye and woah boy

you thought the dog was cute? the owner is giving you a religious epiphany

he apparently doesn’t notice your jaw fall a little bit at how angelic he looks, especially with such a cute dog next to his face, and just says, “I’m trying to train her not to run wild as soon as I let her off the leash... it’s not going that well.”

you pull yourself together and laugh and say, “She’s so cute, though! You can’t get that mad at her.”

he’s like ugh,,,,,, you’re right... I would die for her

and he’s trying to act annoyed and scowl but his stern expression melts when his dog licks the side of his face

the elevator doors slide open with a ping! and you both step inside, pressing your respective buttons

the elevator is the slowest thing on the planet and for once, you’re grateful, because now you get more time with cute thing 1 and cute thing 2

“Um, I’ve never seen you around before,” he says, “Are you a new tenant or just visiting or???”

you tell him you’re new, that you just moved in last week

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around, then? I’m Youngjae, by the way. This is Coco.”

“I’m Y/N! And yes- just let me know if you ever need a dogsitter because I just met her and I love her so much, it kind of hurts.”

he laughs and he’s like ah, maybe you can walk her with me someday?

and as the doors slide open and you walk out, you tell him that sounds delightful, that you’re in 509 and are typically there after 6pm, so he should feel free to drop by

with his dog, of course

and as the doors slide shut, you hear him yell, “See you soon!” as he waves goodbye with coco’s tiny fluffy paw

and you don’t really expect to see them again soon, but a few days later, you run into them in the hall

youngjae holding coco on a leash

and the little dog bounces up to you, pawing at your leg

you die. she’s sooooo cute is she real? youngjae are you sure she’s real?

he’s like yes I’m sure cause she peed in the kitchen last night and it was disgusting

but not even a minute later, he’s cooing over her as she flops on the ground for belly rubs

you’re like youngjae, my man, make up your mind

another day, you were in your building’s laundry room when youngjae came in, toting a laundry basket

as soon as he saw you, his face lit up

but you were like... no coco?

he’s like unfortunately, she barks at washing machines

and while you’re there, both of your machines stop working

you’re shaking yours and cursing under your breath

“stupid fucking sonofabitch machine-”

and he’s like hold up, new tenant, i’ve got this

and he raises his palm and smacks the machine right in the middle of it’s lid with a loud cluak! sound

sure enough, it starts working

he does the same to his and again, it kicks back up

and he does all of this like it’s the most normal stuff in the world

as if you’re not astounded he knew the exact location to hit the washing machines

and you’re like... hey youngjae,,,,, can I get your number in case the machines ever break on me and I have two broken hands and can’t hit them

he’s like,,,, sure, but if you have two broken hands, just ask me to do your laundry for you, ok???

and that’s so endearing awh omygoodness this boy is so cute

he sets his name in your phone as “coco’s human”

and instead of hanging around being bored while waiting for your laundry to finish, youngjae is like... wait here one sec... and then he dashes out of the little room

comes back a few minutes later slightly out of breath with a bluetooth speaker in hand

“Let’s do karaoke!”

“Youngjae, we’re going to get kicked out.”

“I don’t see anyone else in here!”

and that’s how you end up jumping around the laundry room singing into your phone, which you were holding like a microphone

feeling a little silly because it turns out youngjae sings like a goddamn angel

“This isn't fair, you’re so much better than me at this,” you joke

“Practice makes perfect, Y/N.”

“Listen here you little-”

he just runs away, laughing his butt off

and when your laundry is finally done, you’re actually kind of sad about it

but you pile all your clothes into your basket and youngjae walks you all the way back to your apartment

and a few days later, you get a text

“You seemed to really like Coco, and you offered to go on walks with us, so... do you want to right now?”

yes, you do

“Great! You’re in 509, right? We’ll come get you.”

he leads you out to this park near your building and the sun is only just starting to set and the scenery is so beautiful that it breaks your heart a little bit

youngjae just points out his favorite trail up ahead and coco is trotting at the edge of her leash, eager to go and explore

and at first conversation is kind of spaced out and awkward, neither of you really knowing what to say to each other, but then it gets so... easy

you’re showing him the scar from that one nasty fall you took as a kid, explaining the rather stupid story behind it

he tells you his own weird childhood stories about that one time he talked back to a teacher and like, instantly regretted it

and when he laughs, he laughs with his whole body. like a lot of work goes into those laughs that you can’t help but join in on

and sometimes if you tell a particularly good joke, he’ll just lose his mind and run around in circles for a bit

it’s kind of adorable you can’t lie to yourself

and once he accidentally dropped coco’s leash and she wasn’t even that far ahead of you guys but he FreAKEd oUT

“COCO!” he screams, hauling ass to chase her down

kicking up dust behind him like road runner in looney tunes

diving like a professional goalkeeper in a soccer match to catch her

and then he picks her up like he did when you first met him and he’s like, “I nearly had a heart attack don’t ever do that again-”

you’re just laughing and playfully teasing him for the way he sprinted after his little fluff ball

“Yah, Y/N. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t run after her.”

you’re like... you have a point.... she’s precious and needs to be protected at all costs

he’s like yes, I’m glad you understand

and you tell him that you were a little unsure about moving at first because what if you ended up not liking the apartment or the neighbors???

and now, as you stand on a small bridge over a slow stream, looking over to your side to see youngjae looking ethereal in the setting sun, you’re thinking that moving was the best decision you’ve ever made

you don’t tell him that, of course, instead saying, “...Anyway, thanks for being so nice to me!”

and you’re walking so all you can’t see his face but you notice his ears go bright red

“Um, actually...” he starts

“...Is something wrong? Did I say something weird?”

“No! Nothing like that. I was just thinking that um, since me and Coco both think you’re cool, do you maybe want to...” and then you can definitely see a blush tinting his face

“Youngjae, I’d love to go on a date with you,” you say, smiling

and you can tell he’s kinda dying cause he is bright red and he’s smiling like a maniac and trying failing to hide it behind his hand

the rest of the walk is filled with shy smiles exchanged between the two of you

and many blushes

and when you get back to your building, he once again walks you back to your door

“So,” you say, “when do you want to have that date?”

and he’s blushing all over again as he says, “Um, tomorrow?”

and you just nod, feeling your smile take over your face

but it’s late af and you gotta sleep so you lean up to kiss his cheek and say, “Goodnight, Youngjae!”

and he’s just standing in front of your door long after you’ve closed it, staring at the air in front of him, his hand on his cheek

and then he just looks down at coco and says, “Holy shit...”

needless to say, the date goes great

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 fluff #neighbor au #got7 youngjae #got7 youngjae imagines #got7 youngjae reactions #got7 youngjae scenarios #got7 youngjae fluff #choi youngjae #youngjae scenarios #youngjae imagines #youngjae fluff #choi youngjae scenarios #choi youngjae fluff #choi youngjae imagines

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tantum-tenebris · 6 years

Text

this modern au drabble is. kind of bad but i just need to get it out of my drafts

based off a writing prompt:

“I set up the blanket fort. The password to get in is three words!”

Willow peeks at Wilson past the fluffy blanket-shield, eyes bright with mischief. His hands are on his hips and his face scrunches up in thought, because he thinks he knows her all too well, but he’s soooo wrong. And she’ll prove it when he’s never able to guess her secret password.

She sets up her pillow fort while he’s away at work, using all of the pillows and blankets she had on hand and stripping the rooms barren. It must’ve been such a surprise when Wilson came in and saw the fun little fort that he can’t get into!

He’s humming in light amusement, just like when he’s trying to solve a crossword puzzle. “No boys allowed? Burn it down?... Burn the boys?”

She snorts- he’s real silly. “I wish! But nah, you didn’t get it.” Willow shuts the drape and lands back onto a pile of pillows with an odd finality.

There’s some huffing and stuff going on outside. She appreciates how hard he’s trying to guess her stupid password for her stupid silly fort. But in her comfy bed, she’s willing to stay up all night and hear him list off random words if that's what he wants to do with his time.

That man’s wayyy too into puzzles.

“Okay, uh… how about. Fire, fire, fire?” He asks.

“Good try! But nope.”

“I love you.” Haha, naaahhh. Too cheesy. “...Get lost, creep?”

Geez, now this was getting sad. Willow gently nudges the drape with her foot. Her boyfriend is staring at something in the corner of his eye and looking like a sad and penniless street kid, so fine, whatever, she can let him hang out for awhile. It wouldn’t hurt. “You suck at this game.”

He sticks his tongue at her and carefully crawls into her fort. It suddenly feels much more warmer with him here.

Wilson takes in all the pretty lights. She’s got sparkly stuff hanging from the blanket roof, and some lava lamps, and a couple glowy stars and fairy lights.

“Pretty neat, huh?”

He’s starstruck. “Yes…”

Wilson settles into the space next to her, slipping into her arms. He’s unusually warm for someone who often lacks body heat.

“No fires in here,” he reminds her. They’re in a tight blanket hut with nothing but flammable materials all around. And things that can start fires if left alone for long enough.

“Mmmh.” Yeah, she knows; everything will burn and blah blah blah. She’s not a dumb little kid who needs reminding.

...Willow agrees with him anyway, even if it makes her sad that she can’t always play with her lighter in some parts of the house. It’s super old and dusty and the flames would eat it up quickly. Then they’d have to live on the street in a real fort, not one exactly made of pillows and stuffed animals.

It sucked that reckless fires came with a cost.

She drags her fingers through his hair in thought. It’s soft and fuzzy like his cozy sweater, and he breathes a warm sigh against her neck. It makes her kind of sleepy, being all wrapped up like this. Now she doesn’t really wanna get up.

She feels slow movement along her back. He’s moving his hand to cradle the curve there, rubbing her slightly with his knuckles as sleep tempts him. Kneading her like a kitty.

“When’re you gonna tell me what the password is?” Wilson mumbles.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Curiosity,” he admits, “and I’d like to come back later.” He squeezes her in a hug.

Willow decides she likes being the little spoon.

“Do you wanna guess some more? Come on, I’ll even give you a hint!”

Wilson complies, but even after her super-duper easy hint he still can’t get it, and she gives up on helping him. It’s pointless.

They’re able to settle into a comfortable silence despite being a noisy pair. Willow suspects that it has something to do with them simply being lazy on a summer afternoon.

Still, she feels somewhat restless and antsy. She lightly drags her fingers down his tummy, just on accident, and like a cat to water he slips away with a gasp.

“Woah! Are you ticklish?” There’s a mischievous grin forming along her face as she watches him reconsider every decision he’s made.

“Um! No. No, I’m n-AAGH!”

Her warm hands crawl up his chest and tickle him mercilessly. Wilson looks like he can barely breathe; he’s batting at her hands and trying to fight back, but his efforts are futile. Willow’s too quick and agile, while he’s too slow and clumsy.

“Ack! Stop!”

There’s a sudden and squeaky yelp as she tickles a particularly sensitive spot along his neck. She pauses for a moment, wondering if she hurt him or something, but he’s only looking up from underneath her with a loss of breath. No injuries or anything, just shock.

“Willow?!”

She slightly releases the tight grip she has on his arms. “What?”

“Y-you just broke your fort.”

“Huh?”

The roof of her fort and its pillow-walls lay around them in a sad, disappointing pile. It collapsed while they were fighting and she didn't even notice!

Willow huffs, climbing off of Wilson. “Oh, boo! Well, that was lame.” And a huuuuge waste of time.

Some part of making him suffer was worth it, though.

Wilson looks guilty, even though it technically isn't his fault. She pats his shoulder. “Things break all the time. That doesn't mean we can't rebuild it, though.”

“You’re not upset?”

“I mean… not really. It’s just a pillow fort! Not a real housie or anything.” Willow gets up and brushes off her skirt. She lends him a hand and helps him up.

“So c’mon and help me fix it dummy.”

He’s smiling nervously, like he’s afraid that he's gonna mess up somehow. “Alright.”

They rebuild the fort together. And even though it takes all day, they're doing it in the comfort of their home without the worry of monsters and giant beasts.

All of Wilson’s stuff is here now. His gadgets are next to her silly trinkets.

He’s hunched over by the entrance, scribbling something down. She peers over his shoulder. “Whatcha writing?”

“Just a sign,” he says.

On his crumpled up paper, Willow sees three words.

Geniuses at work.

#willowson #this one is weird. have a nice day #works #drabble

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hekate1308 · 6 years

Text

Roommate Not Wanted

Drowley AU. So I really really have a thing for giving Crowley a specific job. Well.

Say what you want about his mother, but he won’t need a roommate. As a matter of fact, he takes pleasure in the thought that his very first appearance at college will be him simply showing up to announce to said roommate that thank you, he is going to look for an apartment because there is nothing money can’t do.

He thinks little of the whole college experience anyway. If only the world allowed people to make a career without having to waste useful years at institutions that couldn’t teach him anything anyway.

But well – he knows one thing. Crowley’s years at college will be pleasant, easy, and spent mostly on his own. He’s never had the patience to endure other human beings for long, another reason to stay far away from the college dorms.

At least he thinks so until he actually meets his prospective roommate.

All he knows is that his name is Dean Winchester. It does in no way prepare him for the man he encounters when he opens the door.

Dean, who apparently is already busy unpacking, looks up and grins. “Hey, you must be Fergus!”

Normally, he would correct him immediately, but standing in front of him is the most handsome person he’s ever set eyes on, and he first has to swallow down the lump in his throat before he manages to reply, “I prefer Crowley.”

“Fine by me. Dean. Winchester.”

They shake hands and Crowley’s plans are changed.

He can well live through one semester of sharing a room if it means he can eventually have Dean Winchester in his bed.

Living with Dean is almost too easy. He’s friendly, kind, polite, and knows when to leave Crowley alone.

Normally, he’d expect to hate him within days.

Instead, they become something like friends.

Dean simply accepts him and his disdain for humanity at large, mostly just laughs when he complains about the other students, encourages him to relax, and he’s a good cook.

Not that Crowley would ever admit as such.

Dean knows anyway, Crowley can tell from the glances he bestows on him when they have dinner together.

The only downside to Dean being so utterly... charming is that seducing him becomes a much more difficult task than it ought to be.

Opposed to other teenagers, Crowley matured rather fast because he had to, and he never had any patience for the silly games the other students in his school were so fond of playing.

If he wants someone... well, he usually gets what he wants.

But Dean? When he flirts with him, Dean simply winks and flirts back, then asks what he wants for dinner; or whether he’s got work to do. Crowley can never be sure he actually emans it, and it’s beyond frustrating.

He’ll get there, though. He always does. He just needs a little time.

One morning Crowley gets woken up by Dean shouting. It’s such a surprise he needs a moment to get his bearings.

“Yes, yes, I know, I abandoned the family because I dared go to college blah blah blah. Don’t start that, Dad – Sam’s doing well. How? He calls me more than once a month, that’s how I know!”

Normally, this would be the moment where Crowley got dressed and left their room until things calmed down.

Somehow, he simply gets up and finds Dean sitting at the table, head buried in his hands.

He bites his lips. Of all the things he’s learned, comforting people isn’t one of them.

“I assume you heard everything?” Dean asks.

“It would have been difficult not to.”

Dean looks up and nods. There are tears in his eyes. “My Dad... he doesn’t like it that I went to college.”

“I gathered as much. In case it makes you feel better, my mother hates me.”

“I’m sure she –“

“She hates me, believe me.”

Dean smiles weakly. “What are we, the victims of bad parenting club?”

“You don’t seem like a victim to me. Everyone likes you.”

It’s true; The whole building seems enamoured with Dean. Not that Crowley is one to talk.

“Yeah, well...” Dean shrugs. “Everyone doesn’t include my father, it seems.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of college? Building your own life?”

“Seems like you’re better at it than me” Dean says somewhat bitterly.

“I just started early” Crowley hears himself say, and he has no idea where this new-found empathy comes from. Sure, he wants Dean Winchester – that hasn’t changed – but why does he suddenly care so much?

Dean smiles, and it’s one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever beheld. “Should have known, with you being all...you”.

Crowley isn’t entirely sure this is a compliment, but at least Dean seems to be in a better mood.

It is after this morning that Crowley begins to feel the danger of paying Dean too much attention. While he feels that he’ll always be ready to invite someone into his life for a few fleeting hours, he’s already decided that caring about people will only lead to heartache; and he’s rather sure he is already... a little too interested in Dean for his liking.

Maybe he should go forth with his plan of seduction, get it out of his system? No; he sadly comes to the conclusion that one taste of Dean Winchester would be addictive enough to tie Crowley to him for the rest of their lives, and he has no interest in having a significant other. If Dean would even wish for that, and why should he?

So he decides to stay safely away and move out at the end of the term.

The problem is that while this is an excellent plan in theory, Dean Winchester has already proven that he is the only one in the world who can surprise him.

And then comes the evening when Crowley is studying (it’s all so simple, really; why do people act like college is difficult to begin with?) Dean knocks on his door. “Hey, you got any plans for tonight?”

“No” he answers honestly, which is probably his first mistake.

Not protesting against the movie night that Dean proposes then is his second.

Apparently him never having much indulged when it comes to movies is a “crime” by Dean Winchester’s standards – that alone would not be a problem, Crowley could easily deal with watching a few films – no, the problem is that Dean looks entirely too captivating as he once more dives into the world and stories of characters he already knows by heart.

Crowley should have gone through with his plan to get his own place. He sighs and pretends that Dean’s sparkling eyes are not the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

After that, Dean routinely coaxes him out of his room, and Crowley comes to both love and hate his siren-like ability to make him do things he’d never imagined he’d end up doing, like going to college parties or actually interact with his peers.

There is Benny, who’s studying marine biology; Charlie, who could and probably will one day hack everything from the Pentagon to the FBI; and Garth, the weird guy with his sock puppet, only to name a few.

They all adore Dean, just like –

They all adore Dean.

Probably because it is not at all difficult to do so. Not that Crowley –

He really should step away.

He doesn’t. Dean even introduces him to his little brother when he visits, and Sam Winchester is not bad company, really; Crowley just thinks it’s weird that he seems anxious to like him.

It’s certainly the first time this has ever happened to him.

When he goes to his room to study, he hears them whisper.

“Dean, he looks like he’s plotting to take over the world.”

“Trust me, there are way worse options than Crowley around.”

“Just because you have a crush on him –“

Crowley doesn’t hear anything else. The thought that Dean might find him attractive has crossed his mind; as a matter of fact, in the beginning he was counting on it; but a crush? Someone actually having feelings for him? It seems too preposterous to be true.

It all comes to a head after finals week, with Dean barely conscious on the couch and Crowley trying to get him to wake up enough to have dinner (he noticed Dean barely ate in the past few days. That is all. He won’t have a comatose roommate).

“Come on, show me those lovely green eyes. You can do it.”

Dean moans but does sit up. Crowley proceeds to get dinner into him, but he’s not to be moved from the couch; he’ll have to sleep there tonight.

Crowley thinks he’s already asleep when Dean suddenly opens his eyes once more, reaches out, kisses him, and mumbles “knew you liked my eyes.”

Then he’s out for the count.

Crowley half-hopes he won’t remember, but no such look. The next day when he gets up, Dean is already cooking breakfast (small wonder, he had twelve hours of sleep due to his exhaustion).

“Morning Peaches. Still think I have lovely eyes?”

“And what if I do?” he challenges him.

Dean’s grin turns hungry. “Alright then.”

Much later Crowley remembers that he did actually come into the kitchen to have breakfast, but with Dean in his bed, he’s far too comfortable to move and see what became of it now.

Dating Dean Winchester isn’t all that different from living with him as roommates, he learns. Dean still jokes around and flirts with him, but now there are kisses and further activities too, and that’s just fine by Crowley.

It’s when this thing, whatever it is, lasts that he starts to wonder.

There comes the time when Crowley has to stop and take in what they are doing and decide his next step.

Because this... thing with Dean, it has the potential of making him happier than he ever thought he would be, he knows that. But at the same time, it could get in the way of his ambitions, and he isn’t prepared to sacrifice that much.

But on the other hand... There’s Dean. Just the thought of letting him go is too much for him.

When they graduate, Crowley cannot believe how much time has passed, and how their lives have intertwined. They have the same friends, visit family together; Hell, his mother likes Dean.

And yet...

Dean starts speaking of buying a house together, building a life, he even hints at rings and children (and that is something Crowley never thought he’d have to deal with).

One night, Crowley decides to speak openly about his reservations.

He explains it all carefully to Dean – how he’s a bastard who’s set certain rules for himself, how he doesn’t think he’ll ever make compromises, and yes, how he should be looking for a better man than him – but at the end, Dean just shakes his head and smiles. “You idiot, Crowley. I knew exactly what kind of man you are when we first got together.”

“But still –“

“But still” he mimics him before leaning in and kissing him. “So you’ve got plans. Big deal. We’ll just have to work on them together.”

Many years later

“Mr. President –“

“I am speaking to my husband” he says impatiently. Because Gavin got sick, Dean wasn’t able to accompany him on this trip, and he misses both him and the children greatly.

“But –“

“It’s alright, we’re doing fine here” Dean assures him. “My biggest problem is to make sure Emma doesn’t draw on the walls of the Lincoln bedroom.”

“Sounds heavenly” he sighs.

“Hey, you were the one who had all this ambition, remember?”

“And you were the one who chose me regardless.”

“Last time I checked, we chose each other, Peaches.”

“That’s true” he concedes while his secretary continues to wave frantically at him. “Sorry, I have to go.”

“We’ll be at the airport when you return” Dean promises and Crowley can’t imagine a better prospect.

#my writings #drowley #dean x crowley #college au #dean winchester #crowley #forever my king

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thirstyfortom · 7 years

Text

High School Band AU: Ch. 13

This was a mistake.

A really bad one. The kind of mistake you know it’s terrible from the moment you even take action. And yet, you can’t stop, it’s stronger than you, it’s cruel because it catches you on a moment you’re too confused and emotional, which, to a teenage riddled by hormones and immaturity, it can be almost everytime.

Talking back to the teacher was a huge mistake!

And you know that while you’re sitting in detention. But, as ironic as it sounds, staying in a place where nobody knows you and nobody can really judge it’s exactly what you need right now.

You kissed a college guy. So what? The guy has a girlfriend. Well, morally questionable, but it’s not something we don’t see everyday. So why are you feeling so bad to the point you’ve been distracted in class and avoiding the Mystic Messenger crew for dear life? Nobody knows what you’ve done, but it takes a glance at one of them for you to feel like your deepest sins are out for everybody to know.

So lowering your gaze when you notice Saeran sitting on the desk next to you feels like the most natural move.

“Oh yeah… ‘Hi, Saeran! How are you?’ if you don’t know, that’s what you do when you meet someone you know.” He whispers.

“Hi, Saeran…”

“Huh? I mean, yeah, that’s what a normal person would do, but you’re not normal, so you should say ‘shut up, you little piece of shit, it’s not like you would say hi to me either, you jerk! Blah blah blah girl stuff blah blah…”

“I guess…” you don’t need to look at him to know he’s staring at you with a mortified expression.

“Okay, are sure you shouldn’t Go see the nurse? You’re obviously sick!” he reaches his hand to touch your forehead. “You’re really sick, usually you would bite me for doing this or whatever…”

“What are you saying? I would never bite you!” you slap his hand away, lowering your gaze again “Keep your fetishes to yourself…”

“Whew, there she is…” he sighs sharply, and it’s hard not to look at him and laugh at him for being so silly.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to dodge from being the topic.

“What do you think? I did bad shit and this is punishment.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, uhm… because, uhm… anger issues and maybe… walking around with a razor?”

Oh yeah… you already knew about the razor. He used it to defend you from the senior that day. No, why using an euphemism? The guy saved you, just admit it.

But you didn’t know you weren’t the only one to know he had the habit of walking around armed. Probably some teacher found it and… wait, but that doesn’t make sense!

“Shouldn’t you get expelled or something instead of just going to detention?”

“Good to know you want me expelled, MC.” You roll your eyes, and he laughs. “No, I mean, yeah… I should if…the school’s social worker didn’t know I might have some… issues back at home, which explains my violent nature… so uhm… I can stay here as long as I do counseling along with being in detention.”

“Oh, like some kind of social rehab?”

“Yeah, something like this…” he looks away, obviously embarrassed. Well, there’s no reason to, this is something understandable…

“Well, uhm… it’s nice that you have this chance.”

“It is.” Both of you look ahead, you wonder if it is because you’re both thinking of this or just… being a little thrilled by his sudden moment of honesty and no bickering from neither parts. “What about you? Why are you here?”

“Because I’m a mess.” You growl, remembering what brought you here.

“Well, did you… did you just notice this now?” you glare at him, making him laugh. “I mean… being a mess isn’t exactly punishable.”

“I called the math teacher a… ‘fartknocker’.” He muffles a laugh, bending over his desk.

“You don’t even know how to curse someone! You’re so… dorky.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, I will before you call me a fartknocker.” He laughs, and you try to hold back a wry smile. “I mean, it was only a matter of time for you to cuss a teacher, but you should at least have called him something that it isn’t funny!”

“I was just… look, I was mad, it was the first thing to cross my mind.”

“Why were you so angry?”

“It… it doesn’t matter.” You cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. Like if he could read beneath your eyes.

“Uhh, so dark and mysterious… I’m almost starting to like you.”

“So I’ll shut up before you do.” He chuckles breathlessly. Are you that funny or is he just mocking you? Jerk…

“Let’s get out of here.” He gets up, throwing his bag on his shoulder.

“What? No…”

“Come on! You don’t have to be in detention for such a lame thing like that. And I… don’t want to stay in detention. Let’s ditch this.”

“But…”

“He won’t wake up. Believe me, I’m here almost every day and he doesn’t even notice when people ditch this.” He notices you were looking at the teacher. Oh… so he’s sleeping? You thought he was just super into that newspaper… okay, he was clearly sleeping and you’re stupid. What the hell?

“But is it… really okay for you to ditch this, Saeran? I mean… isn’t this part of your rehab or something?”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be recovered and ready to reintegrate the academic environment properly watching that fartknocker snore.” You roll his eyes as he smiles teasingly. “Come on, he won’t even notice we’re gone.”

“Why do you want me to go with you so bad?” he furrows his eyebrows, apparently annoyed.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want. I thought you would like to be out of this hell, but if you want to stay and listen to his fascinating dreams about cars made out of pizza, knock yourself out.”

“As interesting as pizza cars sound…” you hear the teacher inhaling deeply “… yeah, let’s ditch this.”

You’ve never stayed till so late at school. It’s… a little more terrifying than you thought. Are the hallways always that long? And the stairs to the library look like the path to hell with the orange shade of the sunset hitting the walls like that.

“Are you scared?” no, the actual hell is having to hear Saeran’s teasing tone.

“Shut up.” He speeds his steps a little, making you run behind him. “Where… where are we going?”

“You? Have no idea. Me? It’s none of your business.”

“Did you really convince me to get out of there with you and now you’ll leave me here… alone… in the… dark?” you look around, trying not to hug yourself.

“Well, I was going to… but if you’re going to shit yourself and cry, I better be around to take some pics.” Grrr, he is… Ah he is such an asshole!

“Go fuck yourself!” you turn on your heels and tries to stomp out of there, but he reaches you and holds you by the arm.

“Hey, I was just messing with you! Come on…”

“No, I don’t need this shit right now, Saeran! I really don’t! You have no idea how terrible I feel and the last thing I need is you making me feel worse!”

“Jeez, calm your ass down, MC! I’m… I’m sorry.” You glare at him, crossing your arms. “Don’t be mad…” oh my god… what’s with the pout? He’s acting like a kid!

You sigh, trying to calm down. He’s a jerk, but you would be even worse if you decide to take on him. Would he ever do something like you did? It’s hard to tell how far can go the morality of a guy who has a razor…

“I’m not mad. I’m just… okay, I’m angry. But… not at you. Don’t worry… I’m sorry for yelling at you…” you look at him. To his hair, actually, you don’t dare to look at him in the eyes.

“Prove that you’re sorry.” What the…

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll only forgive you if you come with me.” He turns his back on you and starts walking. “Hurry or you’ll be alone here and I ain’t coming back to pick you up.”

Pffff, he’s bluffing. Isn’t he? ISN’T HE? Shit, better run!

You go after him. He is going to… the baseball pitch? Wait, no… there is this place behind the pitch, you’ve heard about it, it’s the…

“Welcome to paradise.” He says, making an exaggerated gesture for you to enter. “It looks like it will cave in at any moment, I know, but it won’t… I think.”

“What is here?”

“Hum? Oh, it used to be the gym warehouse before they built a new one. Now it’s where we hang.”

“We?”

“Yeah, you know… the weirdos.” He scratches the back of his head. “Let’s go!” he snorts in impatience, grabbing your wrist.

Okay, it’s not that bad on the inside. A lot of the weidos are the art kids, so of course there a lot of cool paints in the walls. As you walk in, there ‘s a little tent that it looks made of trash bags, where a punching bag and some instruments are places like someone just left the place.

“Those fuckers… if my sticks aren’t here, I’ll really… oh, here they are!” he twirls them on his hands.

“Is it safe to leave instruments like this here?”

“Nobody has guts to come in here ever since the rumors about the goth kids doing rituals here.”

“Were the rumors true?”

“Well, if you get possessed or something, we’ll find out.” You laugh… trying to not let him see you shivering. “Are you calm now?”

“A little more, I guess…” you look away. “But I’m still… angry.”

“Who made you get so angry?”

“Me…” you sigh, looking at nowhere.

“Ah yeah… you’re pretty annoying.” You glare at him. “I’m just kidding. Why are you mad at yourself?”

“Because… I did something stupid, something… really hurtful to a lot of people.”

“Did you cut someone with a razor?”

“No.”

“So you’re cool, don’t worry.”

“Oh… believe me, what I did can bring a lot more damage than a razor. I… am such a bad person, Saeran…” you lower your gaze. “And I’m so… pissed at myself, I’m so… grrrrr! I’m so… you know how I can be a itch most of the times? I can be salty, mean and sarcastic, but I never… ever felt this… anger, is just so… ughhh!”

“You know the counselor tells me there’s nothing wrong with getting angry, it’s like… a sign that you still care. The thing is how you… express the anger that makes the difference, or some shit like this, I don’t pay much attention.”

“Said the guy with a razor.”

“Because I’m still learning! Like that shit you said once, how was it… ‘progress, not perfection’?” yeah, at Yoosung’s basement… wait, was he there? Didn’t he make a whole scene before entering? Oh, he was really waiting to make an entrance, huh? “Anyway… you have to learn how to… channel your angry into something productive. Look around you, this place is riddled with anger, whether it’s in paintings, punching bags and…” he hits the ride cymbal “…music.”

He adjusts every component of the drum carefully. It’s fun to watch him like this, so focused and… with his mouth shut. Ugh… drummers are areally cool, aren’t they?

Good lord, you have a thing for drummers. Damn you, Ashton Irwin!

No, but it’s not just that… say whatever you want about Saeran, but the prick is talented! He knows what he’s doing. He… can be really decent when he wants, like that time he saved you, like… right now, when he is trying to comfort you and… prove to you you’re not the piece of shit you are. He is… a cool prick.

Cool enough to make you stand right beside him as your eyes watch his intently. What is this? He’s not playing anymore, why is your heart pounding so fast?

It’s already night when you and him leave the school. You shoot some quick glances at him as you pass next to the baseball pitch, he looks as nervous as you, though he always looks a little nervous about something.

“Saeran?”

“Hum?”

“I…think I made a very rude comment about you being a mama’s boy or something some time ago.”

“You asked me if my mom was going to be mad at me for being late.” Oh… he remembers every single word of it.

“Yeah… I’m sorry for that. I… Saeyoung told me you guys have some problems with her and…”

“She’s an alcoholic and we have to be home early to make sure she’s not doing anything stupid to get sent to jail. It’s a pain in the ass to keep bailing her out.” Oh…

“Oh… shit, Saeran. This is… are you okay?”

“Of course not! Don’t you think I’m terrified to end up like her?”

“Saeran… you… you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure, MC?”

“Because… you’re angry about this, so… it means you care.” He widens his eyes, his eyes look so glossy… is he crying? “I know it probably means shit to you, but… I’m really sorry for you, Saeran, nobody deserves this, your brother doesn’t deserve this, you don’t deserve this, you…”

You stop breathing for a second when you feel his arms circling you. You try to look at him, but his face is buried in your hair. Hesitatingly, you hug him back. When he finally exhales, you feel comfortable to stroke the strands in the back of his head.

“I’ll be the judge if it means shit to me or not.” His voice is muffled, but you’re sure is breaking.

“Whatever you say.” You lean your head on his.

He walks you home. Now it’s your turn to look nervous, what should you say now? The guy who always looked so aloof and ready to tell you to go to hell is actually the most vulnerable. Vulnerable enough to open up with you, like no other member of the band did, like… nobody ever did to you.

“You didn’t need to walk me home. Now you’re late.”

“It’s fine. Saeyoung is home, so it will be fine for today. The hell I would let a girl walk alone at night. I’m not that douchy, you know? I…” you stand on your tip toes to plant a kiss in his cheek, oh, now he is definitely blushing, especially because you miscalculated and kissed a little too close to the corner of his mouth. “What the hell? What… what was… what was that for?”

“I know you’re not the douche you try to be, so I just wanted to shut your mouth.”

“Bitch!”

“Hey! I could have punched you to shut you, be grateful!” he rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Good night, Saeran.”

“Good night, MC.”

You watch as he walks away. Before he turns the street corner and is completely out of your sight, you can almost swear you saw him brushing the cheek you kissed lightly.

You go to your bedroom feeling a heat glowing inside your chest, your stomach is empty, but you’re not hungry. Oh… could this be… butterflies in the stomach, as people say? You’ve never felt anything like this before!

Is this normal? You didn’t feel anything like this when you kissed V. Oh god… you kissed V! Rika’s boyfriend!

The night with Saeran was so thrilling and sweet it almost made you forget you’re a horrible person.

Almost.

← Chapter 12 | Chapter 14 →

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fics #mystic messenger au #saeran choi #saeran x mc #high school au

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elder-schraderham · 7 years

Text

So I’ve been typing this silly AU out for a few weeks now and I finally got some help on how to actually turn this into a thing. This is my first Sunny fic, and it happens to be a superhero/villain au. I have like 22000+ words already typed out in drabble form before I started to actually sit down and break it down into chapters. Hopefully this can become a thing.

There hasn't been an active superhero or a super villain in Philadelphia since the 80's, but that doesn't mean that super humans don't exist. They do, and a handful of them are sitting inside a bar in South Philly. Two for good, one for evil, one who doesn't know it yet, and one who could care less. The poor city of Philadelphia is in for it...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 >

It was an oddly warm day for Pennsylvania in early March. But then again, nothing about Pennsylvania’s weather made any lick of sense, no matter what the month or season. Even in South Philly it was comfy. Comfy enough to be working in a shady alleyway behind a bar.

That’s what Mac was doing. Surrounded by boxes and bins of papers and important documents while a trash fire burned in front of him, in the middle of a shady alleyway that couldn’t be reached by the sun. At least the heat of the fire was warming to the man in a muscle tank top in front of it as he continuously fed the fire. The first day the thermometer hits above sixty, everyone freaks out and goes for the shorts and tank tops because it’s going to be a scorcher. And today was the day Mac didn’t expect to be asked to go outside and burn stuff.

He had just dumped a box of nonsense into the trash fire when Charlie walked outside with two large black trash bags in each hand.

“They let you burn shit?” Charlie asked, arching an eyebrow at his friend.

“It was more like we didn’t want you burning shit,” Mac then explained.

The two stared at each other for a moment before Charlie spoke up. “Can I throw stuff in?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged. Charlie then took his trash bags and started to throw it in the trash fire. Mac spoke up again. “Throw those in the dumpster, not in the fire.”

Charlie grumbled to himself as he lugged the bags to the other side of the alleyway and tossed them into the dumpster, fighting the urge to jump in to see what bountiful goodies he could find in there. Fire was more important, and calling out to him subconsciously. It had been a good long while since the two of them had had a trash burning and he was not going to pass up this opportunity.

The last one, that Charlie could remember, them doing a trash burn was back in tenth grade. But he couldn’t remember exactly why they stopped and he didn’t really want to ask Mac why either. Odds were, they just stopped and that was that.

“Just find a box and throw papers in. For the love of God, only paper. Nothing else,” Mac explained, emphasizing only paper in the fire.

“What the hell are some of these?” Charlie asked, routing through one of the boxes.

“Receipts, flyers from who knows where, important documents that need to be forgotten, miscellaneous shit. Anything you can imagine that needs to be destroyed.”

“Whoa, check this out.” Charlie pulled up a piece of paper. “It looks important.”

Mac plucked the paper from Charlie’s hand, expecting it to be something meaningless or stupid like a flyer for a street show or open mic night. He was not expecting it to actually be important. After a brief scan over the document, and Charlie breathing down his arm attempting to read it, Mac decided to read it aloud for his friend to actually understand what it said.

“Listen to this dude, it came from New York City,” Mac cleared his throat before beginning to read it. “Dear Mr. Reynolds, thank you for your detective work done for the insider trading debacle in the New York stock exchange last May. Blah, blah, blah, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit… Whoa! New York needs great superheroes like you again. Please consider this our warm welcome to become New York City’s newest superhero. Dude, Frank is a super human!”

“What? No way, man. You think I wouldn’t know if he was or wasn’t?” Charlie gave him a ‘really dude’ sort of look. “We live together. He’d’ve told me… right?”

“I don’t know,” Mac shrugged, looking over the document again. “Let’s be real, this could be legit for a second though. Philly hasn’t had a superhero or super villain since we were in elementary school. There’s a chance that there’s still a bunch of them in hiding, or even moved to more populated cities where they’re needed.”

“If the ones we even had were from Philly.” Charlie then noted.

“Also possible.”

“Isn’t the super human gene passed down from generation to generation too?” Charlie questioned.

“It can, yeah. At least, what I know about it. Come on dude, who do you really thing would have it?”

“Anything’s possible, man.”

Mac nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.” Paper still in hand, Mac crumbled it up into a little ball and tossed it in the fire.

When the document fell into the fire, the fire seemed to explode as if someone had dropped a paint can or something compressed into the flames. Mac and Charlie fell to the ground to keep from getting severely hurt and burned. They held their hands over their heads to protect their faces on the cold, damp, concrete of the alley. Once it seemed like the coast was clear, Mac peeked first.

He patted himself down, seeing no signs of burns or damage to himself at all. As he went to open his mouth, he saw that Charlie’s bomber jacket was on fire.

“Dude! You’re jacket’s on fire!” Mac exclaimed, getting Charlie’s immediate attention.

Charlie pushed himself off the ground and haphazardly attempted to unzip the jacket to get it off. He wasn’t really getting anywhere in a moment of panic, and Mac saw this. Not thinking, just as his friend was, Mac decided to aid his friend and use his bare hands to pat down the flame.

Instead of patting the flame and extinguishing the fire with small amounts of pain and maybe a slight burn with bare hands, something different and unexpected happened. When Mac put his hand over the flame, it seemed to jump off of Charlie’s jacket and onto his hand. Charlie’s eyes widened at what had just happened. His eyes were locked on Mac’s hand that was now holding fire.

It took Mac a second to actually process what had just happened. His hand was on fire and it didn’t hurt. As the flames danced on his palm, it seemed like a warm tickle as if he had just pet a shedding cat. When he did actually realize ‘holy shit my hand is on fire’, he shook his hand violently as if to just sort of shake it away. Shaking away the flame took a bit longer than expected, but finally the fire went out and a wave of relief fell over Mac.

“What the fuck just happened, dude?” Mac exclaimed out of confused frustration.

Charlie was still staring at his friend’s hand that had the flame. He hadn’t broken eye contact the entire time out of shock and confusion.

“Charlie? Dude!” Mac was now directing these exclamations at his friend, who had seemed to zone out for a minute.

“I’m sorry… I’m just sort of…”

“Me too, dude! What the hell just happened!”

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“Your hand,” Charlie pointed to his hand that he still hadn’t broken eye contact with.

“My wha-“ Mac began to ask before he actually looked down to inspect his hand. Nothing was wrong with his hand, at all. It wasn’t red from the heat, there were no blisters or burns. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the palm of his hand. “Dude, I’m freaking out here. What the hell is going on?”

“You think I know, dude?” Charlie shouted. “I’m just as confused as you are right now, man. This is some weird shit.”

“You’re telling me!” Mac stood up from the ground and took a few steps back away from the trash fire, still burning in front of them.

Charlie finally managed to tear his gaze away from Mac’s hand and stand up. Shook up from whatever they just endured, Charlie joined Mac away from the fire. The two stood there in silence, just watching the flames dance inside the trashcan. Neither of them knew what to say to what had just happened, so they said nothing. That was until Charlie deiced to pipe up.

“So, what are we going to do about those papers?” Charlie pondered, pointing to the several boxes of shit they still had to get rid of.

“No offense, dude, but I’m still a bit freaked and don’t really want to go near that thing right now.”

“No worries, man. I got you.” Charlie smiled to his friend.

Before he could take a step towards one of the boxes atop a stack began to hover a few inches off the stack. Charlie and Mac’s eyes both seemed to widen at the same time as they stared at another odd occurrence that they were witnessing. The box floated higher above the stack of boxes before it was hovering directly over the trash fire. Once over the fire, the box began to tip over to dump the contents into the fire.

Neither of them were moving a muscle as they watched the box then begin to float back down onto the stack of empty boxes Mac was making off to the side. Charlie took a half a step back and was now shoulder to shoulder with his confused friend.

“Mac?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah?”

“One of two things just happened. One, ghosts exist and are haunting our bar and they want us to get out of immediately.”

“And two?”

“Hear me out on this one,” Charlie took a deep breath. “We might be super humans.”

“I’d believe in ghosts before I’d believe that we have super human abilities. And that’s saying something, dude.”

“It makes sense though!”

“Back up,” Mac turned and faced his friend. “Why do you think we have super human abilities?”

“Think for two seconds about what just happened here. Fucking fire jumped off of me and into your hand and didn’t burn the shit out of it or even do any sort of damage. That box of papers just levitated and got dumped into the fire because I was thinking in my head ‘huh, that’d be sweet if I didn’t have to get near the fire’. What does that mean?”

“Dude, we don’t have super human abilities!” Mac groaned loudly.

“And why shouldn’t we? Keep thinking about it, man.”

“About what, Charlie? That our parents have super human abilities that they hid from us all of our lives?”

“I never knew my dad!” Charlie exclaimed. “Who’s to say he didn’t have some sort of ability? That makes sense.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll buy that. But what about me? Do you really think either of my parents had powers?”

“What about your dad?”

“My dad?”

“Yeah. He lied a lot to you growing up, was always sneaking around, doing who knows what. Who’s to say that he didn’t have something?”

Mac actually began to ponder on what his insane friend was babbling about. The more he thought about the whole scenario, the more he thought about his grandmother on his dad’s side. She always seemed a bit off till the day she died. When he would visit her when he was younger, he would always remember how much of a plant enthusiast she was. Mac remembered always seeing plants of all sorts in her house and outside her house. Even once, he could recall seeing a flower grow before his eyes-

“My grandma,” Mac blurted out.

“What?”

“It wasn’t my dad who had an ability, it was my grandma on his side. She could grow plants and shit like Poison Ivy. Sometimes, powers skip generations. Or my dad did have one and hid it from my mom and me… But my grandma did for sure.”

“You believe me?” Charlie questioned.

“I do, yeah. Charlie, I think we have super powers.”

He nodded. “It would seem that we do.”

“Dude, you do know what this means right?” Mac then exclaimed to his friend.

“Uh, we abuse these powers for our own personal gain?” Charlie arched an eyebrow up at Mac.

“No, dude. God gave us these powers so we can do his biding! We can finally earn our way into heaven!”

“You lost me, man.”

“Don’t you see? We can actually do some good around here. Ya know, clean up the streets of Philly and all of that other super hero garbage.”

“You’re really serious about this?” Charlie asked, seeing how his friend was getting over the thought of doing good. “Holy shit you are. Who are you and what have you done with Mac?”

“Charlie.” Mac sighed, giving him a look.

“I’m serious, dude. What happened? Now all of a sudden you’re talking about saving people and doing good shit for people who we don’t know and don’t know if they even deserve this to happen to them?”

“But we won’t go to hell. It could make up for all the shit we’ve done prior that would make us go there.”

“That’s true…”

“Think about it. We have these bitchin powers, we can make our own costumes, team up, and kick stranger’s asses. Are you having trouble processing this?”

“I mean, a little bit… But you're right. It does sound like a good idea. The whole teaming up thing and all…”

Mac gave him another look. “You want kickass costumes, right?”

“Dude, yes!” Charlie exclaimed with a bright smile. “That’s the best part of every superhero!”

“Not even the powers part. Just the costume.”

“Uh, duh.”

“We should sort of learn to control our powers though… Ya know, figure out how they work and shit.”

“Should… Or we can make our cool costumes?” Charlie asked hopefully, smiling sweetly to Mac.

“Basement of Paddy’s?” Mac asked.

“Basement of Paddy’s.” Charlie agreed. Before they could scamper off, Charlie then turned to the trash fire. “We should probably do something about that first.”

Mac nodded sadly and went back over to the trash fire. The two thought that they would try to use their powers to start getting used to them, and to see if they were real or not. Charlie just needed to think of something to be done and it was done. He willed the boxes to be dumped into the fire and then placed in the pile of empty boxes.

Once Charlie was done that, Mac sort of just stared at the fire with a quizzical expression. He had no idea what to even do to put it out, even if he did have powers. Thinking about what Charlie said earlier, he was going to imagine the fire dissipating. He thought long and hard about it and decided to make a hand movement where he wiped his arms to the sides. To his utter surprise, the flames were out.

The two exchanged eager smiles before they then bolted into the bar. Dennis had been behind the bar while his twin sister Dee sat across from him on a bar stool. The two had been arguing about something meaningless when the two ran in from outside. When Charlie and Mac ran into the bar, the twins had ceased arguing and turned their attention to the other two.

Dee arched an eyebrow at the two, but Dennis spoke up first. “What are you two so happy about?”

“Dude! Me and Mac-“ Charlie began to excitedly blab to their friends before Mac elbowed him in the chest to shut him up. He took it as a sign to stop talking about what happened and began to lie instead. “Me and Mac were gonna head into the basement and check the rat traps.”

“The two of you?” Dennis asked suspiciously, gesturing between the two of them. “Mac, you’re too good for Charlie work.”

“Yeah, I know, but he asked me to help him out. Besides, someone has to keep him from eating the old cheese from the traps.”

“How can I not, dude?” Charlie then faced his friend, bummed out that he couldn’t partake in a snack and completely forgetting about their recent discovery of powers that seemed to take a backseat to the new conversation at hand.

“No, that’s really smart of you,” Dee noted. “Remember the last time that Charlie ate the cheese off the traps?”

“Oh right. We found him in the basement in a little ball on the floor, shaking in a puddle of his own piss…”

“Yeah, dude, do you remember what happened? Like, at all?” Mac asked.

“Nope.” Charlie shook his head.

“Haunting…” Dennis trailed off before turning back to his sister. “As I was saying…”

Before Charlie and Mac knew it, the twins were back to their usual argument. Awkwardly standing there now, the two just looked at each other before Mac pointed to the stairs to the basement to indicate that they should go down. Slowly, they crept towards the door as they continued to listen into the twin’s argument.

Mac opened the door and ushered Charlie down first before following him, shutting the door behind him. Charlie jumped down the last few steps to find the light switch. Paddy’s basement was huge. Alarmingly huge. It was large enough to be a sweat shop. It would be large enough so the two could practice with their new discovered powers and make their costumes.

“Charlie, try to see if you can turn on that light on the far side of the basement!” Mac happily exclaimed as he joined his friend at the bottom of the stairs.

Charlie stared intently at a darken wall across the basement where he knew another light switch was. Concentrating intently at the area, he willed the switch to flip up and turn the light on. And he’d be damned if it didn’t work. The darken side of the basement illuminated with light from the switch that Charlie made flip on.

Excited that it worked, he ran over to the other side to see if the switch was turned on. When he got over there, he threw both hands in the air in a celebration. “Holy shit it worked!”

“Alright, man!” Mac exclaimed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie caught a glimpse of an old bucket that he used to throw old rags in that he used for cleaning. He picked up the metal bucket and brought it over to Mac and set it down on the ground by him.

“Dude, totally set these rags on fire.”

“But why these?”

“I’m sorry, can you make fire come out of your hands like the Human Torch or not? What’s not to love about fires? Just do it, dude.”

He shrugged, not really sure what to even do. It wasn’t like Charlie’s telekinesis where he could just will things with his mind do move or do shit. Like, did he imagine a fire in his hand or what? Or was it a Hulk thing where he had to get really pissed off at something to summon a flame. Or was it a Warren Peace thing from the Disney movie Sky High, that he had seen one too many times on Dennis’ Netflix account, where he had to almost simulate a bic lighter.

In the process of overthinking how to make a fire on his hand, he had already began to summon a flame on the palm of his hand. Hell, he didn’t even know it was there until Charlie said something. More like yelled.

“Dude! Holy shit, you’re doing it!”

That’s when he directed his attention to the flame on his hand. A slight bit of panic came over him as he saw the palm of his hand on fire again. He shook it off and it fell right into the bucket and the entire bucket of rags went up in flames, causing the two to jump back in surprise. Charlie yelped at the sizable flame in the relatively small bucket.

The two panicked as they heard the basement door open and footsteps bound down the stairs. Dennis and Dee were standing on the bottom few steps, looking at the two and the fire bucket between them.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

“Oh, uh, I was smoking and went to put out my cig in this bucket… Turns out there were flammable objects in there.” Mac shrugged, hands behind his back in case there were any remnants of ash or flames still on his hand.

“Right…” Dennis nodded.

Dee, on the other hand, was not so accepting of the lie. She could tell that there was more to what was going on than the two seemed. They were hiding something, and she wanted to know what. Dennis, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. He spun around and went to go back up the stairs and groaned when Dee wouldn’t move. Instead of asking her to move, he began to push her back up the stairs.

Once they heard the door shut, they let out a breath of relief in unison.

“That was close,” Mac noted, inspecting his hand that was just recently on fire.

“Really close. Want me to try and lock the door?” Charlie asked.

“That might make them suspicious to something being up.”

“But this needs to be our secret lair. No one else can know about this, you said so yourself.”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“But what, dude? Are you having second thoughts on this whole thing already?”

“Man, I don’t know how to use these damn powers! I don’t even know how I set that on fire!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the fire in the bucket.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Thinking about what the hell to do to summon a flame!”

“Well whatever it was, it worked.”

“But I don’t know how, dude. I thought of like fourteen different ways that it could work and I didn’t even realize it was going until you said something. It’s not as easy as telekinesis.”

“I’m not even sure how I got tellakhan…”

“Tele-kin-esis.”

“Tele…kin…esis. Telekinesis.”

Mac nodded. “Yes, telekinesis.”

“I got a power I don’t even know how to say!”

“You can move shit with your mind, dude. That’s still pretty awesome.”

“Weird. Dude, I wish I got your power though. Summoning elements and shit? That’s some Avatar shit, man!”

“If I knew how to use it!”

“Don’t sweat it dude, you’ll figure it out. Somehow.” Charlie then paused and gave him a weird look. “Did it like… hurt? When it was on your hand like that? Is that why you panicked? Cause it was the second time you did that.” “No, that’s the thing. It didn’t hurt. My mind thought that it should hurt so it reacted to a flame being on my hand. It felt like… I don’t know. It was just warm and kinda tickled.”

“I have an idea. Put your hand in the bucket.”

“What?” Mac gave him a strange look. “Put my hand? In a bucket? That’s on fire?”

Charlie nodded profusely. “Yeah! See if fire really does hurt. Or touch the bucket first. Test to see if your vulnerable to heat too!”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“I mean, it might, but go for it!” Charlie gave him a double thumbs up.

That was good enough for Mac. He shrugged and knelt down next to the bucket. In his mind he knew that there should be intense heat coming off of the burning bucket, but there wasn’t. First, he put his hand on the metal exterior of the bucket to feel warmth. To his surprise, there was none. It felt like a normal, room temperature, bucket. Curious now, he put his hand into the fire and felt nothing. Like it was a normal empty bucket.

“Dude.” Charlie gasped.

“This is freaky…”

“Are you kidding me? That’s awesome!” He exclaimed. “Dude, try to pick up some flames!”

Mac shrugged and pulled a Ghost Rider and scooped up a bit of the fire and stood up. Shockingly, the fire stayed in his hand the entire time. It didn’t hurt him at all, all it did was tickle a bit. Feeling powerful, and a bit cocky by this point, he looked across the room at the brick wall. Iron Man plasma blast style, he launched the fireball at the wall. The ball of flames flew threw the air before exploding and dissipating on the brick wall across the room.

Charlie’s eyes were wide with awe. “Dude. Holy shit. That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” He then began to jump up and down from pure excitement.

“That was awesome!”

“This is amazing, dude. Holy shit, we’re actually going to be super heroes!”

Mac smiled at the sudden realization of what Charlie said. They were actually going to do it, they were going to be real life super heroes. “We’re going to be the best god damn super heroes Philly has ever seen.”

#it's always sunny in philadelphia #iasip #always sunny #fanfiction #superhero/villain au #au #superheroes #super villain #mild panic attack tw #rated t for swearing

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sevralships · 7 years

Text

“Just Because You Can” Part 1 of 7, Chapters 1-4

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7 FIN]

The Pines triplets, Mabel, Dipper, and Jolene, have always been best friends. But lately, there’s been some distance growing between the Mystery Kids, due in part to the forbidden feelings with which they are each struggling. How will they manage to see eye to eye, when torn between wanting each other and craving adventure?

(This is a new AU that I’ve been calling Jolene AU, devised by myself and @handleonthescandal after one of us asked the question “What if Mabel and Dipper were triplets but with another sister?”. Although this AU is similar, it is not connected to Double Dippin’ AU, and Jolene is in no way connected to Tyrone.)

Shoutout to @sirwaddlesesquire for being the trustiest squire and an insightful, helpful, and supportive beta.

Mostly SFW, mostly angst with some action/adventure and a little bit of fluff, tw incest

Fic under the cut, enjoy!

Chapter 1: Viola & Sebastian

Cut it out, Mabel-girl, Mabel chastised herself impatiently as she squeezed a dollop of hot glue onto the back of a rhinestone and carefully pressed it against the fabric. Years of practice had left her a very quick and efficient rhinestone-gluer, and it was hard to keep her mind from wandering. And as always it kept creeping back to Dipper, like a tongue to a missing tooth. No, none of that skeevy stuff, quit it!

Think about the play, she told herself desperately. She continued gluing one rhinestone after another, thoroughly bedazzling a doublet for Duke Orsino. Mr. McMahon, the music teacher and director of the play, had warned her not to “mabelify” the costumes too much. He’d reminded her that ‘less is more’ and that they didn’t want a repeat of last year’s production of ‘Oklahoma!’. Well, Mabel huffed to herself, Less is not more. Obviously more is more or it wouldn’t be called ‘more’! And ‘Oklahoma!’ was fabulous! Maybe Jud wouldn’t have been such a jerkface if he’d sewn sequins onto his overalls!

Mabel smiled to herself at the memory of some of her best and sparkliest work, but turned her attention back to ‘Twelfth Night’. She glanced over at the matching outfits she had made for Viola and Sebastian’s respective first scenes. She liked to think that they had worn matching outfits onto the boat together before getting shipwrecked and cross-dressing got them all mixed up. They were her favorite costumes for the play, and had been since the drawing board. In her first sketch, on a silly impulse, she had drawn Dipper’s old pine tree hat onto the faceless little dude she’d drawn and giggled at the thought of her level-headed, anxious, generous brother as Sebastian, who in her opinion was kind of a butt.

It’s still nice to think about, she admitted, gazing at the blue dress and the blue trouser and jacket set, laid out next to each other on the floor, if it were me and Dip. In those sparkly matching outfits, lying side by side on the floor like that, just us. Like maybe while she was taking a break from all this bedazzling and sewing, when Dip told her she was working too hard. It was so easy to picture, just the two of them, lying on the floor in those pretty clothes. They’d be laughing and talking, while she twisted some of the pretty black lace from one of Olivia’s gowns between her fingers, and Dipper would lean over and kiss her--

“Ugh!” Mabel threw down the glue gun on the table in frustration. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight back the angry tears that were threatening to fall. Her eyes hurt, she realized, badly. Probably from staring at too close a distance at little rhinestones and beads and stitches for hours. Sure, yeah, that’s it. Just working too hard. She opened her eyes and picked up the glue gun, wiping off the heated tip with a scrap of fabric, unplugging it, and wrapping the cord around the handle. She hastily cleaned up, scooping handfuls of sequins and spools of thread into little baggies and bins. There were finished and unfinished costumes lying all around her little craft corner in the basement den, and she set about picking them up. Mabel didn’t want to touch those pretty blue costumes for Viola and Sebastian, though she loved them. When all the others were picked up, she glared down at them for a moment, with her hands on her hips.

It could never be like that, Mabesy, she told herself resignedly, There’d be another blue dress, and someone in it. There would have to be one for Jo. Mabel felt a painful stab of guilt in her heart. She loved her sister and she loved having a sister. But the idea of being twins instead of triplets, of being Dipper’s only sister, his special sister, it appealed to some deep dark part of her that she hated.

Jo wouldn’t even wear a dress. She thought about when mom had made Jolene wear a dress to their cousin Alan’s wedding, and how she had fought tooth and nail to get out of it. And how self-conscious she was in it, tugging it down to cover her scabby knees and pulling it up to contain her generous cleavage. Mabel had loved her own dress, a frothy green number that came with a dreamy sea green shawl. She remembered how she’d lent the shawl to Jo and how gratefully she had wrapped it around herself, instantly more at ease by covering up a little. “Thanks, Miss-Sis,” she’d said, with a kiss to Mabel’s nose, “You’re the bestest.” Her emerald green eyes had been so big with gratitude behind her glasses, the green so beautifully complimented by the shawl.

Mabel left the Viola and Sebastian costumes on the ground and walked up the creaky stairs out of the den, turning off the light switch at the top of the stair without a glance behind her. She went right up the other staircase to the bedrooms upstairs, without stopping in the kitchen for a bite to eat. There was a bag of gummy koalas in her backpack with her name on it. As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard her siblings talking and followed the sound. I could use some normal good trip times, Mabel decided. She reached Dipper’s bedroom door and halted.

Dipper was sitting on his bed, in pajama pants and an old Mystery Shack tee shirt, holding a ragged dog-eared book in his hand, a pen sticking out of his mouth. His hair was wet, so he must have already showered. He had learned to shower at night so as to avoid fighting over the bathroom with his sisters in the morning. He was reading aloud a passage about some mysterious urban legend or crop circle or something, his speech hardly impeded by the pen after years of practice. Jolene was lying on the bed, still in her jeans (the cute ones that hadn’t been too torn and stained on hikes and mystery hunts yet) and a green tank top. Her head rested in Dipper’s lap and she was jotting down notes on what he was saying in a spiral-bound notebook. She held the notebook too close to her face, allowing her to see it without her glasses. As always, the two looked wonderfully relaxed with each other.

In whatever bonkers universe Dipstick ever decides to lean over and kiss his sister, Mabel realized with stinging clarity, it’s not going to be me.

Chapter 2: Adventure Awaits

“This is really no time to be playing it safe, Dip-man,” Jolene said, dropping her notebook on the bed to the left of her and looking up at her brother, “Go big or go home.”

“You know I think that phrase is dumb, Jo,” Dipper said, his face still obscured by his book, “Like yeah, you could go small and get to go home afterwards oooor you could go big, die at the talons of some monster you can’t take, and not come home again. But like you went big, so, somehow that’s better? Like surviving to go home is part of the goal?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it a zillion times, Dipper,” Jo rolled her eyes exaggeratedly although he wasn’t looking. Triplet sense would fill him in.

It did. He dropped his thoroughly dog-eared and annotated copy of William Thomas Cox’s ‘Fearsome Creatures of the Lumberwoods’ (a seminal text for them that nearly rivaled Uncle Ford’s journals) and looked down at his sister, frowning up at him from his lap, “I know, sis,” he said, in a wearily sympathetic tone, “But it’s just a stupid competition! It doesn’t even have a cash prize or anything. It’s not worth risking our necks.”

Jo rolled her eyes again, even harder than before, as she pulled herself into a sitting position and locked eyes with her brother, “C’mon, Dip, no risk, no gain! Think about what Grunkle Stan always says, you gotta spend money to make money!” Dipper gave a dismissive laugh, “Sure, yeah, but he always follows it with whispering ‘or you could just make it look like you spent money’. Forgot that part, Jo.”

“Okay, okay, not my point!” Jo explained, exasperated but grudgingly amused by the thought of her Grunkle’s antics, “My point… Adventure, Dipper!” she said, wide-eyed and grinning, fanning out her hands, “It’s not about the contest, or any cash prize, or just making it look like we took a chance… it’s about adventure! I know you wanna see the crazy stuff that’s out there with your own eyes, just as bad as I do!”

She made a good case for it, she always does, Dipper noted, but he was cautious. He was the cautious one of them, it was his job. He had to be. If he wasn’t, he and his sister would have recklessly walked into the nightmare jaws of something before they’d ever reached puberty. And she had that look in her eyes that he knew so well. It was at times like this she looked least like Mabel, who, though she absolutely had her own brand of impulsive craziness, did not have Jo’s taste for danger. Her green eyes twinkled with a zealous light that always reminded him more of Wendy than of his sister. Dipper’s stomach did an uneasy somersault at the comparison to his first major crush, and pushed the thought away, “Jo, listen…”

“Jo, listen,” Jo mimicked with an impatient ‘blah-blah-blah’ hand gesture.

“Ha ha, I know, I’m a total lame stick in the mud, my feelings are so hurt,” it was his turn to roll his eyes, “Will you just hear me out, please?” Jo gave an overblown sigh, before giving him a ‘go on’ signal, “I hear what you’re saying. Of course I wanna go after adventure, of course I want to see some cool stuff. I know that’s not actually in question at all and you’re just trying to prod me into doing something dumb,” Jolene shrugged but couldn’t suppress a mischievous ‘you got me’ smile, “I want to track and find some weirdo thing that’s never been proven, I wanna win that contest and be in ‘Mystery Monthly’…”

“But…?” Jo offered.

“But…” Dipper picked up, nodding, “I just think the Lone Pine Mountain Devils are biting off more than we can chew.”

“But Dip!” Jo insisted, “They’ve never been photographed! They still haven’t figured out what happened to those kids that went missing in 2010! They might be surviving dinosaurs! Or, or, they might be--”

“I know, Jo-jo, I know, I know, okay?” she quieted, but crossed her arms stubbornly, “I know everything about them there is to know, just like you.” He sighed, “But by every account there is, they’re ruthless and there’s a lot of them! We go out there, ill-equipped, without backup, we end up just like those Spanish settlers in 1878 or those stupid high school kids.”

Dipper hated seeing the way his sister’s shoulders slumped when she lost an argument, but better disappointed now than devoured by Lone Pine Mountain Devils later, he reminded himself. If they actually found something, and actually won, and actually got their findings published, they could maybe gain the support to think about something like looking for the Devils. It was a lot of ifs, but playing it safe now could pay off later. He knew Jo would sooner dive headlong into it, but not on his watch.

“Well, Mr. Smarty-pants-know-it-all,” Jo said, her frown curling up slightly, “What considerably less cool thing do you want to look for instead of the way cooler thing I suggested?”

“How about Tessie?” Dipper suggested, grabbing his book again and opening it to the page for Tahoe Tessie, California’s very own beloved Loch Ness Monster, ��I know it’s been done, but there hasn’t been a serious investigation in like forty years, by all accounts the creature isn’t actually aggressive, and we know from experience to bring more than seventeen disposable cameras.”

Jolene forced a smile, is that reminder supposed to make me feel better or shut me up? She wondered, studying her brother’s expectant face, as always, Dip’s the authority, because what do I know? It’s not like I’ve been on a real adventure. But, whatever he had meant by it, Dipper was waiting for an answer, waiting for her to concede like she always did. It was hard to say no to her best friend, and although the Lone Pine Mountain Devils were undeniably the cooler option, it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to see ole Tessie too. That uncanny triplet sense was kicking in again because Dipper’s smile broadened a second after she changed her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile back, “Alright, bro-tective, you win,” she said, “Tessie it is.”

“Mystery Kids?” Dip said, offering a fistbump.

Ya can’t leave a fistbump truce hanging, Jo thought, bumping her fist to his, “Mystery Kids.”

Chapter 3: The Power of Mabel

It was almost two in the morning when Jolene crept from Dipper’s room across the hall to the room she shared with her sister. She was careful to open the door quietly, but found the light still on, Mabel sitting up in bed going over her ‘Twelfth Night’ script, apparently taking down notes about props and costumes that weren’t finished. She popped a couple of gummy koalas into her mouth and gave a wave without looking up at the door, “‘Sup, Jo-jo?”

“Not much, Mabey,” Jo said, walking over to her dresser and opening her pajama drawer, “Just hanging with that dumb brother of ours.”

“Ha!” Mabel closed her script, “I think I know the one.” She was quiet for a sec, watching her sister change into an old pair of sweats and tee shirt, how does she make a ratty old tee shirt look so hot? “Sooo…” she said, “You guys settle on a critter to stalk for that contest thinger?”

Jo knew she was asking to be polite, but appreciated it anyway. Although Mabel had accompanied her trusty wombmates on countless forays into the unexplained, it had been established years ago that she did not have Dipper or Jo’s penchant for it. But she was a good sister and a good friend, and always showed the most genuine interest she could in their many schemes. And yet, Jo bemoaned for the zillionth time, she was there that summer while I was stuck in summer school here. Although she was just as bright as her triplets, and comfortably smug about it, she’d never gotten consistently good grades like them. School was reductive, and no one liked her, and worst of all, it was boring. Jolene had never done well with rules, and she did even worse with boredom. I’m a woman of action, I wasn’t meant to sit in a classroom with a bunch of Neanderthals, listening to a teacher drone on about some shit I already know. But how many times had she wished, that fateful summer and since, that she had just sucked it up and done her work in seventh grade? While they were in Oregon, saving the world and coming to terms with their strengths and stuff, I was sitting in a classroom that smelled like B.O. and redoing work that I should have just done the first time.

“Earth to Joleeene,” Mabel sang.

“Huh?” Jo withdrew from her memory, “Oh, yeah, we’re going to look for Tahoe Tessie.”

“Ah! A fine choice, mademoiselle,” Mabel said with a flourish, imitating a smarmy French waiter.

“Merci, merci,” Jo joked back, hopping into her bed adjacent to her sister’s. Mabel’s phone announced the receipt of a text with the oink of a pig and she picked it up at once to read and respond. Jo casually studied Mabel, as she had every day for almost seventeen years. As usual, she marvelled at Mabel’s effortless femininity. The girls had always had a striking resemblance, and they still did, but to Jolene the difference was like night and day. Mabel was ever the vision of girliness, her quirky touches not detracting from it at all. Petite and slender and lithe, her curves were modest and lovely, never demanding undue attention. Her long curly hair fell halfway down her back, in ever-perfect waves, her fingernails and toes were always painted in bright colors, and one couldn’t look at her without being drawn into her big brown doe eyes. Even her PJs had frills and bows and a pattern with silly little pink watermelon slices. Those flouncy little pink pajama shorts made it impossible not to admire the graceful line of her leg, the pale flawless skin that disappeared beneath the ruffled trim--

Stop it, freak! Jolene threw her gaze angrily to the opposite side of the room from Mabel, kicking herself for letting her thoughts wander into that weird stupid gross place that they so loved to visit. She’s your sister, dammit, and besides that she’s way out of your league! Jo knew the voice in her head was telling the truth about this. Of course they were fraternal, but people often mistook them for identical twins, and it took so much willpower not to laugh in their face. Obviously they were only being polite. Where girliness and cuteness came naturally to Mabel, things like memorizing trivia and starting a campfire came naturally to Jo. Not that she didn’t value those things or whatever, but sister or not, she was no kind of match for a girl like Mabel. Where Mabel was slim, Jo fought always with a pudgy midsection and curves she’d just as soon conceal. Where Mabel’s hair shone and curled in pretty nut-brown waves, Jo’s was brassy and frizzed in the presence of the slightest humidity. And it wasn’t just looks, Jolene figured she’d looked fine despite her complaints, but Mabel was a people magnet! Charming and silly and thoughtful, she could make friends with anyone in a minute flat. She remembered people’s birthdays and made them laugh and helped transfer students find their lockers and homerooms without being asked. And I’m a cranky jerk with a chronic need of an attitude adjustment.

Mabel finished responding to the text and replaced her phone on her bedside table. She rolled onto her side to face Jo and rested her head on her hand, “So, that was Brandon Cooper. Dude wants me to do his measurements again.”

Jo laughed, “Seriously? What is this, like the fifth time he’s asked?”

“Well, only third, but honestly,” Mabel continued, “At first I thought he was like insecure or whatnot, that like he didn’t want me to think he was fat or wanted his costume to not be too tight or whatever? And like he isn’t fat so that was kinda weird but like he’s nice enough, I guess? But a third time is just redonk. Antonio isn’t a huge character anyway and I already finished making his costumes and just in case I gave it an elastic waist so like… I dunno, I think he maybe just wants to hang out with the Mabel.”

“Well,” Jo gave a theatrical knowing look, “I mean, who can blame him?”

“Yes, yes,” Mabel gave a small swish of her hair, “Of course, no one can resist the power of Mabel.”

Jo laughed, “It always comes back to the power of Mabel with you.”

“Even I am powerless to the power of Mabel!” Mabel insisted, landing her fist on the mattress with conviction.

“Okay, well, that makes just about zero sense, Miss-Sis,” Jo pointed out, through laughter, “But anyway, like, do you think the power of Mabel is strong enough to grow Mr. Brandon a pair?”

“Pssh,” Mabel made a dismissive gesture, “Even Mabel is not that mighty. He had his mom ask Kelsey Beechman to homecoming for him.”

Jo pulled a face, “Oh, honey. Yeah, he’s beyond even your considerable influence.” Mabel nodded in agreement, “So how’s everything else going with the play?”

“Well, Mr. McMahon told me not to ‘mabelify’ it too much, as in use the sparkly in moderation,” she elaborated.

“Naturally, Mabelness is synonymous with sparkliness,”

“Abso-tively,” Mabel agreed appreciatively, “The power of Mabel compels me to bedazzle,” Jo chuckled, happily listening as her sister explained how she had tried moderation but one piece after another simply wasn’t sparkly enough. She could fume all she wanted about her sister, but when push came to shove, she was no more capable of resisting the power of Mabel than any other mere mortal.

Chapter 4: Morning Mania

There were many ways in which the triplets differed from each other, but across the board, they were not morning people. Although Mabel tended to be the closest to human in the morning, all three would have much rather been curled up in bed. Their breakfasts differed considerably. Dipper nursed a cup of black coffee and a couple slices of toast in grumpy bed-headed silence. Jolene consistently had the biggest appetite and put away a banana, some corn flakes, and a piece of toast that Dipper had pushed away with a grunt, all the while re-reading the current issue of ‘Mystery Monthly’ that detailed the ‘Explain the Unexplained’ contest that they were submitting to. And Mabel ate a bowl of sugary cereal with strawberry milk and extra marshmallows added. They had accepted their different eating habits years ago, and as long as they were in agreement that breakfast was no time for a conversation, they got along perfectly well in the morning.

Unfortunately, their parents still had not gotten the memo on the Morning Conversation Moratorium, and often chose this time to try to get the three zombies impersonating their children to open up to them. Their mom had already left for work, but their father, who worked from home a couple days a week, stood in his bathrobe and PJs by the stove, with a cup of coffee, trying to engage his three uncooperative offspring.

Mabel loved her parents, and knew her siblings did, too. They were caring, involved, and made a decent effort to know and support their kids. But honestly, since long before they could talk, the triplets had formed their own language, and their own little family unit. Weirdness seemed to have skipped a generation in the Pines family, and their parents had always had a hard time truly relating to their off-beat kids. It must be hard, Mabel thought compassionately, Being an outsider to the Mystery Kids.

“Heya, Scout,” dad said, addressing Jo by the nickname mom and dad had given her as a small girl, “Ya reading about more of those cryptics you and your brother are always so jazzed about?”

“Crytids,” Jo mumbled, by way of response.

“That’s it. Hey, tomato, to-mah-to, am I right?”He replied.

“Sure, dad,” Jo said on autopilot.

Dad took a slow sip of coffee and Mabel jumped on the chance to interrupt the polite dad question game before it went on another agonizing second, “So, daddy, any thoughts about what’s for dinner tonight? I saw pork in the fridge.”

“My little detective, just like your brother and sister, I swear!” He joked, before launching into detailed descriptions of the different preparations he was considering. Mabel wasn’t the kind of elaborate cook dad was, but she liked listening to him talk about it. He got excited about cooking. It was a creative outlet for him, and she could sympathize with just about any kind of creative outlet. Jo caught her eye and mouthed ‘thank you’ for stopping the AM interrogation she’d been receiving. Mabel gave her a wink.

A moment later, dad was tapping an imaginary watch on his wrist and reminding them that it was almost time to go. In near-silence, they fetched their respective school bags, bid dad ‘seeya’, and headed out the door.

“Last one to the car’s a unicorn!” Mabel challenged the instant they were outside, breaking into a sprint. They might have been the only three kids who took the insult of ‘unicorn’ so seriously, but all three were running hard in an instant. The green station wagon they’d all pitched in for was parked on the street by the mailbox. They had all shared the cost of the car, and therefore all felt they had a claim to naming rights. While Jo insisted on calling it the Mystery Machine (which her siblings deemed to be too on-the-nose), Dipper called it The Chariot, citing some junk about Apollo and triads, but Mabel always fondly referred to it as Aoshima. Aoshima wasn’t more than ten yards from the door, so it was a brief race, however fierce the competition. Mabel reached the car first and hopped into the coveted passenger seat, Jo second, immediately claiming the driver’s seat with her butt and adjusting the mirrors, while Dipper reached the car a second later with a groan.

“Ah, Dipper, stain on our family name,” Jo mocked haughtily through the open driver’s side door, “Ever the unicorn in our midst.”

Dipper opened the driver side door to the backseat and groaned again. Behind Mabel’s seat back, the backseat was piled high with props and costumes for the High School’s production of ‘Twelfth Night’. He thought all of the bits of fabric peeking out were a little too bedazzled to be believable for the Elizabethan era, but thus was the way of Mabel. He climbed in behind Jo, uncomfortably folding his legs against the back of her seat, “Hey, Jo-jo, think you could scoot that seat up a little?”

“Dipper,”Jo said in a scandalized tone, “I need my seat here to drive. Don’t you realize your life is in my hands??”

“Yes, and I’m wishing I’d put a little more work into my will…” Dipper grumbled, accepting his fate.

As they tore out of the driveway, Mabel pushed a cassette tape into the player and gave them both a grin, which they returned. Their tried-and-true Manic Morning Mix spilled out of the speakers, and all three triplets burst into song, off-key. Mabel thought about their parents, how much they didn’t understand that breakfast was no time for talking. They also don’t understand that car rides are a time for rejoicing! The first day the trips had driven themselves to school in their car, they’d had a celebratory sing-a-long. That had been a special occasion. Then they repeated it the following day and the following day, and in no time it was a routine. We’re all so busy now with so much dumb junkum, Mabel thought, glancing at the rear-view mirror at the heap of costumes it reflected, sometimes this is the only time we’ve got to let the Trip Flag fly.

She leaned to the side a little so that the mirror showed her Dipper instead. He was taller than his sisters by a head and his long legs were uncomfortably bent towards his chest, but he wasn’t complaining. He was happily singing along at full volume, intermittently drumming along on his raised knees, a completely different person than the coffee zombie that had sat at the kitchen table. She loved seeing him like this, bobbing his head and tossing his hair like a nerd while he sang, his smile never budging.

It’s a shame the people at school never get to see them like this, Mabel considered, as she often did. Although both her siblings had a couple friends, neither was comfortable enough in school to let loose. Whereas letting loose had always kinda been Mabel’s default mode of behavior. So people never even meet the bestest part of them! Honestly, Mabel felt sorry for all those people and felt an inward surge of pride and gratitude, I get the bestest part of the bestest people to myself!

Continue to Part 2

#pinecest #pinescest #gravity falls fanfiction #jolene au #jbyc #just because you can #sevralfics

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