sclops

scott summers dad, professor, dj

[optiicsblasts-blog]

scott.

“genetics,” she huffed, simply - caught between wanting to add that it was easy think it when it was true and wanting to say that of everyone, he had better. crossing her arms over her chest, emma stood patiently ( hard to do in the mood that she was in ) and actually allowed the show of affection, though she continued to glower. it was sweet. well meaning. SCOTT. the action warmed her, but the rest of his words did little to placate her. “so, i’m a distraction? my clothes - which, might i remind you, i wear only for myself - are now deemed to be inappropriate, because a man couldn’t see me in them without imagining me…- bent over a table? it’s the bra strap conversation all over again. men can wear WHATEVER they want ; it’s women who are being policed, day in, day out.” 

scott knew almost instantly that he had said the wrong thing, or at least, he had said SOMETHING wrong. for someone who prided himself in his natural ability to lead, scott was pretty lousy when it came to defusing situations, especially when it came to emma. normally he would result to harsh words and the truth to bring someone back down, but he could never be harsh with emma, it just wasn’t possible. so he bit his lip, hanging his head slightly as he took a step back. “hey, i never said being a distraction was a bad thing,” he replied, accompanied by a small laugh, it was true, at least for him. emma was the good type of distraction, she always had been and she always would be. and suddenly, scott was at a loss for words- he couldn’t even begin to figure out what to say to emma. so he remained silent.

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scott

“thirty years.” emma frost was always ENRAGED about something. it was kind of her brand, at this point, along with a flawless manicure, icy blue lipstick and a blonde dye job that would ( could, definitely had ) made the likes of PARIS HILTON cry. her standards were high, her patience low, and when people failed to meet the expectations that were placed on them - which happened daily - emma was prone to occasionally snapping. it wasn’t unusual for her to be angry. it was just unusual for her to RANT. “i have been setting trends for the better part of THIRTY YEARS, and never once has anyone had the audacity to try and tell me what i can and cannot wear until today-” in one hand, she clutched a piece of paper - she wasn’t leaving it out to be read, but it was obvious that this was what she referred to. “i’ve been written up. that waifish dullard that started last week has decided that MY CLOTHES - my one of a kind, designer clothes that could pay the student loans of a dozen of these kids - are inappropriate for the workplace. inappropriate. i wore PANTS before carol danvers ever dared. i paved the way. INAPPROPRIATE!”

scott couldn’t help but wince- he knew exactly what it felt like to be on the receiving end of emma frost’s anger, and he couldn’t help but feel bad. but mainly he felt relief that he wasn’t the one who’d messed up this time. “well i think you look absolutely gorgeous,” he whispered, before moving in to plant a kiss on her cheek. it was an old trick of his that he usually saved for when he wanted something, but he thought, perhaps it might work. “i think he knows he wouldn’t get any work done,” he mused, moving to stand behind emma, “sitting next to such a beautiful woman,” he finished, a smile spreading across his face, pretty confident in his solution.

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dinah

“We are only, like, 6 days away from another Skrull invasion.” Dinah said, her tone and cadence certain in a way they rarely were. “Why else do you think people have stopped talking about the Area 51 raid?” For a moment, she paused and gestured wildly. “The Skrulls have taken over Area 51 and, like, sent agents out to dissuade us from it so we don’t figure out whatever they are doing there.”

“wait, are you serious?” scott gasped, stopping dead in his tracks to turn and face dinah, his mouth still hanging open from the shock. “are you sure?” he asked, reaching out to place his hands on her shoulders, “what’s your source? do you have any more details?” he continued to question, “and what’s this about area 51?”

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rohen.:

“Thanks, dad. Weeks of barely sleeping paid off.” Rohen’s grin stayed bright as he shut his laptop, happy not to have to open it for school for a while. “Yeah! I actually only want to do that.”

a flicker of concern washed over scott, a frown momentarily appearing on his face as he heard rohen mention a lack of sleep. but in his determination to avoid becoming a helicopter parent, he dropped it, instead pursing his lips as he watched his son. “well, it’ll be my treat- where would you like to go?”

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rohen.

“Yes!” Rohen jumped up and yelled in excitement, something rather unbecoming of him. “I submitted a seventy-five page thesis and didn’t break down more than twice!” He burst to tell the nearest person.

“Congratulations Rohen!” Scott was beaming, an overwhelming sense of pride washing over him as he listened to his son’s accomplishments. “Shall we go out to celebrate?”

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clint‌.:

“i don’t know, man…” clint was pretty FAMILIAR with how ‘bad ideas’ usually felt, at conception - and this seemed like it was a really bad one. for one, it was scott. he was a good enough leader ( clint could appreciate that ), but… being an x person, and all, and having laser beams for eyes meant that the archer wasn’t sure how well he’d do, when it came to using an actual WEAPON. for two… well. clint just didn’t have confidence in anyone that wasn’t him. especially not with one of his bows, hence the hesitation in relinquishing his grip, though he did, to his credit, extend it a bit to him. “this is a deadly weapon. you wanna handle that?”

“come onnn,” he whined, his lower lit jutting out into a pout as he turned to look at his friend, “please clint!” he found himself begging, and while normally he’d be embarrassed to do such a thing, he was beyond caring at this point. scott was tired of learning the fundamentals, and he’d come too far to quit so the only logical option was actually trying it. “dude my eyeballs are deadly weapons- i’m not scared,” he responded with a roll of his eyes, though the other wouldn’t be able to see it. 

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“okay, i’ve got it, give me a bow,” he told his friend, a grin spreading across his face as he looked at his friend. for as long as scott could remember, which probably wasn’t that long, he’d been begging clint to teach him how to shoot a bow. and finally he’d worn the other down, but before he’d be able to get his hands on a bow, he needed to learn the fundamentals. and it sucked- scott didn’t care about the fundamentals, at least not at the time being- he just wanted to try archery. @hawkbros

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normally scott loved helping others, whether it be in the form of a mission with the x-men, or volunteering to chaperone a school dance. but even he had to admit that trash pick up was starting to get boring. the town of paragon had been through a disaster like none he’d seen before- and it left plenty of debris in it’s wake. and the citizens of paragon had come together to clean up their town, a nice idea in theory, but it was proving to be incredibly boring. his partner was nice enough, but scott found himself struggling to hold a conversation with damian as they worked side by side. “so, you have a favorite type of music?” he asked, pausing mid pick up to turn his head to look at the other male. it might seem like a dumb question, but he’d found that music was an easy thing to talk about. @batheiir

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eleanor.‌:

“well, it’s not 1996 anymore dad,” nellie laughed. “aren’t you glad you never have to hear your kids fight over who gets to rewind a vhs tape ever again?”

“no- i suppose it’s not,” scott responded with a laugh as he reached to scratch the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. for someone who had access to all sorts of revolutionary technology, he was pretty clueless when it came to using it. “perhaps you could give your old man a lesson?”

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emma.:

* closed starter for / @optiicsblasts !

emma was far too intelligent and much too aware of every inch of her self to not recognize that the emotions that churned in the pit of her stomach after the mist were not her own. this rage - it was unnatural at best, it’s heat and it’s ferocity far more than what she was used to. she wanted…- her instincts were clouded, everything becoming something worse than an inconvenience, to her. she didn’t just want to snap a disparaging comment, anymore, and glide away on kitten heels. she wanted to - hurt. 

she’d felt this feeling before. just once. only as the phoenix had she ever felt her emotions heightened in this way, and as so, she had wanted to burn this world to the ground. at the time it had felt natural, and logical, only because she had never known what it was like to lose her own agency, like that. now, however…- emma was TOO SMART for this. too self aware. as the fury that ran hot in her veins reached boiling, she shifted into diamond form as easy as she might inhale a steadying breath ; and it proved to be as much help as one. only as diamond did her thoughts clear, again, cut off from whatever feeling she had been burdened with. cut off from them all, actually. 

at least when max came looking for her, she didn’t want to drop kick his beautiful little face. “mum?” he’d run to her - his voice, his expression, all of it unusually soft. when he wrapped his arms around her, she mimicked the movement, only capable of being taken aback by such a gesture when she was full, flesh bodied. “there’s something wrong with dad…”

- when they arrived, max’s hand wrapped tight around her own ( he hadn’t wanted to hold her hand since he was five ; she’d always thought he grew up TOO quickly ), it was obvious that his words had not been an exaggeration. scott’s visor grasped tight in one hand, his eyes, mercifully, still pressed closed, emma didn’t NEED the telepathy she had willingly cut herself off from to know what was running through his mind, and she reacted in kind. “scott, you halfwit - put the VISOR back on.”

it’d been a long time since his last mission as leader of the x-men, but the second the first alert had been issued, a switch inside of scott was flipped and he found himself assuming the familiar role. a surge of confidence flowed through him as he helped the party-goers reach their assigned safety zones, before, he too headed for safety, his fourteen year old in toe.

while it wasn’t quite the same as a being on a mission with the x-men, scott had felt the familiar sense of pride that came with it. it’d been a long time, too long, since he’d last been a part of a mission, and he’d forgotten how much he loved it- how great it made him feel. 

scott felt great, even as he sat at one of the circular cafeteria tables, trying his best to keep a fourteen year old pre-occupied. he had no idea what was going on around them, and while it did worry him- scott was able to momentarily forget, his thoughts focused on max. 

and then the mist came. and once again scott’s instincts kicked in as he grabbed max and dragged him under the table, using his body to shield him. this only made scott feel better, in fact, he hadn’t felt this great since he’d come back to life. he felt- he felt, well alive. 

he wasn’t sure what happened next, what prompted him to remove his visor, but there he was- kneeling in the middle of the floor, his visor cradled in his hands, his eyes still squeezed shut. it was a foolish thing to do, he knew it- but for once scott truly felt like it would be okay. he’d open his eyes and nothing would happen, he’d be able to see, his children could look him in his eyes.

a smile broke out across his face and just as he was ready to open his eyes, he heard a familiar voice. “no em,” he called, laughter in his voice as he lifted his head, “it’s fine- i’m fine,” he insisted, “i don’t need my visor,” he explained to her, turning his head towards her, a smile spreading across his face as he slowly opened his eyes.

he’d been smart enough to not directly face emma, in case something had gone wrong- what he hadn’t accounted for as their son standing next to his mother. he’d been wrong, he’d been so foolishly wrong, the moment he’d opened his eyes the familiar red blast filled the room, his optic blast pointed directly towards his son. and unable to do anything else, he screamed. 

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rohen.:

It was awkward trying to adjust to his father being back into his life, Rohen had lost so much that he was scared that getting close to Scott again would mean he’d lose him again. And the hardest part was that it wasn’t either of their faults. But he had to try, he had to. He handed Scott his laptop, sitting across from him. “It’s a work in progress, still. I just want an opinion on it.”

“that’s understandable,” scott replied with a nod, his best attempt at portraying the understanding father- though in this moment, it wasn’t difficult. “smart of you to have your work checked before you get too far a long,” he added, this time a smile spreading across his face as his focused turned to his son’s paper.

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jean.

* flashback starter for / @optiicsblasts !

seeing him again was its own kind of resurrection. it was like WAKING UP and taking a lifegiving breath for the very first time in what was now over a decade. it was like coming home and laying down too many years of baggage at the door, a burden of all they’d done, NO MORE. it was like finding a lost part of herself - a part that hadn’t returned when she had, but was as ESSENTIAL to life as a piece of her own heart - and putting it back into place with a rush of skirts and a blur of untamed red hair, the two of them colliding some place in the middle.

her arms went around his neck and his around her waist. she buried her head in the curve of his neck and he cradled her there, automatically. when she took a breath, she took it DEEP - his very scent as unchanged as how warm and solid and familiar he felt beneath her. they wrapped themselves around one another instantaneously, a testament to how well they knew each other by touch alone, and somewhere, something shifted into place. the world righted itself. whatever had been LOST to them was lost no more. 

“scott-” she drew back, but only so she could place one hand on either cheek, drinking in every INCH of a face that she would have known blind. the last time she had seen him, she had watched the red light die behind his eyes - she had HELD him as he crumbled, and she had cried over what was left. his goodbye had been the broken whisper of we were better off dead - a sentiment that she knew he UNDERSTOOD, but had hurt anyway, to say. jean could scarcely believe that the man she’d once loved ( the man that a part of her always would love - the same part that felt whole only with the knowledge that he was breathing, once more ) was before her, but she refused take it for granted. she was DONE doing that. it was with a teary kind of laugh that she asked ; “are you going to make a habit of this TOO, then?”

the moment scott saw jean it was like he forgot how to think, his mouth gaping open as he struggled to process what he was seeing. she was there- she was alive. losing her had nearly destroyed him, if it weren’t for emma, it probably would’ve. he spent months after her death, struggling to cope, struggling to go about his day to day chores. for as long as he could remember jean grey had been a part of his life, and without her- a part of scott was missing. he made a good attempt at moving on, but not a day went by where he didn’t see her face. and then scott himself had died, finally able to be reunited with his jean.

the years he spent among the dead were some of the hardest of his life, and when presented with the opportunity to come back to life- he didn’t hesitate. five years had passed and the world around him had changed, but for once, he was glad to be alive. he was surrounded by a family that loved him, and nothing could be better. or so he thought.

he’d often thought about what it’d be like to see jean again, what he would say to her. but in the moment, he lost all thoughts as he ran to be with her, letting out a strange cry as he practically threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her waste. “hey jeannie,” he whispered as he tilted his head to gaze at her, a small smile spreading across his face- “I’ve missed you.”

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eleanor.‌:

‘ i was once on the phone with blockbuster video, which is a very old-fashioned sentence. ‘ @optiicsblasts​

“honestly, i barely remember blockbuster being a thing..” nellie laughed.

“i can’t believe this-” scott responded with a laugh, “blockbuster video used to be the biggest thing since sliced bread. now everyone streams everything.”

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rohen.:

Admittedly, it had taken time for Rohen to get used to Scott being around again. Between Nellie going missing for years and then Scott dying, Rohen’s emotions had taken a deep nosedive. He was closed off emotionally, now he was trying to figure out how to open himself back up to his father the same he does with his mother. 

“Hey, dad?” Rohen called out to him. “Can you read this short story and tell me if it’s any good? I’m kind of unsure about it.”

@optiicsblasts

It was no secret that Scott Summers had struggled to fit into his previous life, he’d been dead for five years, and while he was the same man as before, the world had moved on without him. His children had grown up without him, they’d started to adjust to life without a father, and he was struggling to insert himself into a narrative that he wasn’t supposed to be a part of. He’d often go well out of his way in his attempts to be a part of their lives, and often it didn’t have the results he would’ve liked. He’d found it especially difficult to reconnect with Rohen, the other clearly hesitant to open up. Fortunately, this was not one of those situations- they were both comfortable, granted they were sitting around a table drinking coffee and not really talking - but it was a start. Looking up from the stack of papers in front of him, Scott had to hide a smile as he listed to his son. “I’d love to read it,” he responded, allowing the smile to appear across his face. And he meant it- he’d missed out on helping his children with their homework, he was excited for the opportunity to read Rohen’s work. 

[optiicsblasts-blog]

‘ in terms of like, instant relief, canceling plans is like heroin. ‘ @shincbrightcr

Scott’s eyebrows furrowed together as he heard his nephew’s rather peculiar figure of speech. Never, in all of his years, and his two lives, had he heard such a statement. It left him bewildered, struggling to come up with an appropriate response. He hoped, that it was just a peculiar joke and that his nephew wasn’t struggling with an addiction. But in the event that he was, Scott knew better than to respond with a joke. Instead he took a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at Nadir- “I hope this isn’t your way of telling me about your drug habits,” he spoke quietly, his initial concern quickly fading as a smile broke out across his face. “I’ll admit, that’s the first time I’ve heard that expression.”

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roman.‌:

roman isn’t stupid. he just doesn’t care. there’s a difference, he insists. ❝ well, your lesson plans can feel rushed too, but i don’t take it out on you. ❞ roman really didn’t have it in him for this. scott’s class wasn’t really even on his radar. ❝ is there really a specific threshold you’re looking for ? like, how can you really tell ? ❞

scott let out a small hmph as he folded his arms across his chest, a stern look appearing across his face as he stared at the young darkholme. “if you don’t like the class, you can just drop it,” the words pained him, but by the time he finally decided to speak, he was confident it was the best thing to say. he knew better than to press the issue too far. “perhaps you should reread my syllabus.”

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roman.‌:

closed starter / @optiicsblasts​ !

roman’s itching for an argument. ❝ professor summers, ❞ feels weird calling him that knowing just about every juicy detail about his life, but as was the story with most adults at paragon, ❝ i wanted to talk to you about my grade on my essay… ? it’s a bit, uh, unexpected. ❞

scott suspected that he’d be hearing from the darkholme boy sooner or later. certainly, he’d given him a fairly low grade on his essay- but it was nothing that roman didn’t deserve. “i could use the same adjective to describe your paper,” he responded, narrowing his eyes as he lifted his head. “this paper feels rushed, almost as if you didn’t spend time on it.”