#anyway apologies for the rambling just have been thinking a lot about fics lately. cause I like fics and would love to make them but right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taelme · 4 years

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Enemies-to-lovers!Changbin

request: Hiiiii I read you bangchan enemies to lovers au and I swear if I could like a post more than once I'd like that one a MILLION TIMES I'm wondering if maybe you could write an enemies to lovers au for changbin pretty please? 🥺🥰 genre: enemies-to-lovers!au (again, not Super extreme, low-key clash bc they’re both stubborn), film club president!Changbin, childhood penpal!au (fluff, very mild angst, they bicker a lot, kind of cheesy bc changbin’s a sap and we know that) pairing/s: Changbin / Reader (ft some skz members) word count: 17k+ tw: mild coarse language (they say shit a lot LOL) a/n: THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS...IM PRETTY SURE you waited months for this so thank you for being so so so patient!! I decided to try something a little different from my usual style but idk if it’s That Obvious, but its more structure wise I guess, but nonetheless, I'll be getting a little busier soon so I’m not sure If I'll be able to put out Full one shots for the next few months but I'll try my best w those little shorter ones maybe! (I'll have to see how Tired I am) also p.s I love this gif thank u to whoever made it but changbin is blonde in this fic bc of Personal Reasons

To: my penpal Y/N

How are you?

I had a good day today. Sorry if the paper is crunchy I am writing this on my bed because my mom thinks I am already asleep. Today I went out with my mom and we went to the park and ate some sandwiches at the park. We had a picnic but with no juice because my sister finished everything. And then we went to the toy shop after lunch. I saw a keychain of a camera and bought it for you because you like acting and cameras can take a video of you acting.

This is a picture of me next to the wishing well at the park, you cannot see it but i’m making a peace sign. I threw a coin in the well and made a wish that your audition will be good. I know you will do very well because you practiced a lot for it. That’s all. I’m a bit tired now. Goodnight, or good morning if you are reading this in the morning. Or afternoon.

I hope i’ll be hearing from you soon, Binnie.

“So, do you wanna keep them? If not I can chuck them together with the rest of your old things,” your mom began, already reaching over to take the letter from you.

Your eyes widened just as quickly, shaking your head quickly as you gripped the envelope and its contents behind your back away from her reach.

“No, no. Don’t throw them away,” you said sternly, softening your gaze when you noticed the way her eyebrows had raised in amusement, embarrassment washing over your features.

“I’ll keep them. Gimme the box.”

Your mom set the beaten looking converse shoebox down onto the table, shaking her head at you as a small chuckle escaped her. Mental note to transfer the letters to a smaller (and more durable) box.

“Alright, alright,” she waved her hands at you in dismissal, “hurry up or you’ll be late for school.”

She shut the door behind her with a light thud, leaving you to stare at the grainy polaroid your childhood penpal had sent you when you both were only eight and still exchanging letters every week.

Inhaling deeply, you shoved the polaroid picture back into the envelope, slipping it into the box of envelopes before getting up. You figured that was a box you wouldn’t have the time to delve into when you were already keeping Jisung waiting.

Driving as fast as you could (or as fast as you dared to) within the speed limit, you’d reached your campus soon enough. It wasn’t that long of a drive and it would be even shorter (walking distance to be specific), when you move into your apartment nearer to campus in a few days. But that didn’t change the fact that you were running late now, spotting Jisung standing by the fountain with a sour look on his face that had only deepened once he’d spotted you.

Before an utterance of apology could leave you, Jisung had pursed his lips, stretching out his hand that held your cup of drink, a small hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“I’m starting to wonder which one of us has worse time management,” he sighed deeply, shaking his head with feigned disappointment as he glanced at his nonexistent watch on his wrist.

Jisung was one to talk, for sure. His crumpled looking shirt over baggy cargo pants and a hat to cover his head of messy hair told you his journey to school wasn’t exactly ‘leisurely’ either.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste, “it’s definitely you. I was only late today ‘cause my mom was showing me my old stuff she found in the storeroom.”

Jisung waved you off, “fine, whatever,” he fished his phone out of his pocket as you started walking towards the auditorium for a class you were both dreading.

“Oh, shit, Hyunjin says the professor’s already in class, we should hurry up.”

Quickening your pace, you were glad to have reached before your professor had started, Jisung directing you towards where Hyunjin was seated at the side of the auditorium, giving him a small nod as you sat down.

Not that Hyunjin noticed anyway, the said boy busy with messaging someone on his phone with a frown on his face.

“What are you doing?”

Jisung peered over Hyunjin’s shoulder, frankly not wanting to focus on the lesson as the professor played a video on boring business things he figured he could just ask you for later.

Hyunjin sighed, setting his phone down onto the table and pushing his laptop open further, going to his email with quick clicks on his trackpad, “gotta send the scene for the auditions later to Changbin.”

“Oh, for that film thing?” Jisung asked, earning a nod from Hyunjin, whose eyebrows furrowed as they remembered your presence.

“Y/N should audition,” Hyunjin nodded his head towards you, his mention of your name distracting you momentarily, but you’d brushed it off quickly as you tried to take down whatever your professor was rambling on about.

At your lack of response, Jisung nudged your shoulder with more force, “hey, did you hear what Hyunjin said?”

You tore your gaze reluctantly from your professor as your fingers finished typing whatever you had left in your memory, the confused look on your face prompting Hyunjin to take over.

“We’re having auditions later for the movie the film club’s gonna be making,” he started, nodding slowly as his eyebrows raised, “I was saying you should join, you’d be good for the role.”

You narrowed your eyes at Hyunjin, “what’s it about?”

Jisung huffed, “some cheesy penpal shit, the last I heard.”

Your quirked an eyebrow at that, Hyunjin rolling his eyes.

“Something like that, but it’s not super romantic. They’re childhood penpals who meet again in the future but they don’t end up together, I don’t know how to explain it to you as well as Changbin can, but will you come anyway?”

You scrunch your nose as you consider his offer.

Was there anything you needed to prepare? You didn’t even know exactly what you were signing up for. Or much less anyone in the film club. Well, other than Hyunjin, of course.

“Is there any script I'm supposed to prepare with?” you asked, making Hyunjin’s eyebrows raise, his lips parting in realisation.

“I’m pretty sure it depends on what role you want…” he trailed off, making you scoff.

Not being able to help the laugh from escaping you, you narrowed your eyes at him, “you sound like you’re not even in the club.”

Hyunjin flashed you a sweet smile, “you know what? I’ll just send you what I sent Changbin. You can just prepare with that! Penny’s role!”

Jisung snorted, his hand coming up in a poor attempt to stifle his giggles.

“Penny? Is it because...she’s a pen pal?”

You pressed your lips into a firm line, finding it awfully amusing as well.

Hyunjin frowned, scrunching his nose up in distaste, “we couldn’t think of anything better, okay?”

You huffed, lower lip jutting out in a small pensive pout. You didn’t have much going on in terms of school productions as of now, anyway, you guessed there would be no harm in showing some support for Hyunjin.

“What time are the auditions?”

“They start from lunchtime until like five,” Hyunjin tried his best to recall, looking at you with his best pleading gaze.

Sighing again, you nodded, “this is my only class for today.”

Hyunjin was practically beaming now.

“Perfect.”

===

“I don’t like it.”

Hyunjin sputtered over his sip of coffee, an incredulous expression on his face, attracting looks from the other film club members in the dance studio. Excusing himself, he’d made his way outside, oblivious to the squeals and stares the girls waiting to audition were directing towards him, settling himself in the middle of the field outside the dance studio.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t like it’?” he asked you again, his eyebrows furrowed as curiosity took over him.

You sighed, rolling your shoulders back as you nodded at one of your teachers you were walking past, your grip relaxing on your phone as your arm had started to get tired.

“I mean, I read through the script, and something about Penny’s character just doesn’t sit right with me,” you told him, “it just… doesn’t make sense for her to come to that conclusion when she’d been having a perfectly good time with the guy before that, you know?”

Pausing, you’d waited for him to respond, his silence prompting you to continue with your elaboration.

“Okay, I’ll put it this way,” you started, adjusting your grip on your laptop in your arm, “If I were a reader, or like, a viewer in this case, I would wanna be able to pick up on these small moments or signs that Penny is actually thinking about her relationship, do you know what I mean? Because now the way it looks is that she’s just a plot device meant to hurt him, and that there’s no exploration of the development of their relationship at all.”

Hyunjin let out a deep sigh, “Okay, I know, I know, but the thing is… this was Changbin’s idea, and I don’t know if you’ve heard—I mean, you probably have, but… nobody really questions him.”

You hummed, following Hyunjin into the school building and tugging your coat tighter around yourself, the cold air in the building shocking you as you entered.

“Yeah, I get that, but you’re forgetting that I don’t have the same relationship with this Changbin guy that you guys do. I don’t mind telling him that I have a problem with it. I don’t wanna be acting out some two-dimensional love interest character if I can help it.”

Hyunjin grimaced, not seeming to be too keen on your insistence, “I really think it might be a little late for him to change the script.”

“It’s never too late.”

“Well to Changbin it could be!” Hyunjin insisted, making you roll your eyes, a small chuckle leaving you.

You huffed, “I still think the audience deserves a better film with better crafted characters.”

Hyunjin let out a sound in between a sigh and a groan, “Okay fine, you just have to make sure you get the role, and then you’re free to argue with Changbin all you want. Deal?”

“Deal,” You turned the corner and spotted Hyunjin standing in the middle of the field, already making his way back to the dance studio.

“Okay,” he spoke before you could end the call, “I gotta go, see you later.”

You didn’t expect there to be so many people at the auditions, mostly girls and just a handful of guys. Though you seemed to piece the uneven ratio together when you saw the not-so-furtive stares the girls would cast in Hyunjin’s direction whenever he’d peek his head out from the crack in the door to call the next person in.

You recognized one of the guys who’d come in later than you, one of Jisung’s upperclassmen friends whose name was Minho.

“Didn’t think i’d see you here,” he gave you a small smile as he took a seat next to you.

Shrugging in response, you let out an awkward huff of laughter, not used to talking to him about anything other than his cats and Jisung’s whereabouts.

“Yeah… well, Hyunjin asked me to come, so I figured I might as well,” you fiddled with the slip of paper with the scene printed on it, “not like I had anything better to do, anyway.”

Minho nodded slowly, leaning closer to you and dropping his voice to a murmur, “I’ve never seen any of these girls before.”

You huffed, “I’m pretty sure most of them are here for Hyunjin.”

“Oh yeah, makes sense,” Minho hummed, a small lilt of amusement to his tone, “where is he, anyway? He told me he would be here—”

Minho’s question was answered when the girls beside the both of you had erupted into harsh whispers and murmurs, tapping each other excitedly as Hyunjin could be seen through the window panel in the door, looking on seriously as one of the girls inside the room was auditioning.

You huffed, gesturing to the window.

“Found him.”

Inside the room, Changbin was distracted.

He knew he had a certain image in his head about what he wanted ‘Penny’ to be. But whatever the girls that had auditioned so far had been showing, that dramatic ‘i never loved you!’ emotion, that wasn’t exactly it. And it didn’t help either that they struggled letting go of the dramatics when Chan would prompt them to try a different angle.

Hyunjin cast a (mildly concerned) look at Changbin, trying to gauge his expression, figuring the pointed look Changbin had sent his way was enough to say he didn’t think this girl would be shortlisted.

“Who’s next?” Chan leaned over in his seat to peek at the clipboard of names of signups, Changbin leaning back in his seat and pushing the clipboard towards him, not finding it in him to be able to be more hopeful about the next person.

“Oh, Y/N,” Chan hummed, nodding with an impressed expression on his face, the name catching Changbin’s attention, “that’s cool, didn’t think they’d audition.”

“Y/N?” Changbin echoed, something about the name awfully familiar to him, yet not being able to make the connection in his memories yet.

So for now, he’d simply gestured to Hyunjin to signal that he could send the next girl in, Chan sweetly thanking the girl that had just auditioned as she left the room.

Making your way into the room, you scanned the ‘panel’ of judges.

You recognized Chan, the said pale-faced boy looking even more tired when he’d yawned as you made your way to the centre of the room. He came to your school productions often since he and Felix were friends, and Felix was always involved in some way or another. The other boy, though, you didn’t think you’d seen before.

The two of them seemed to exude completely different auras, with Chan smiling warmly at you and gesturing for you to come closer while the other boy sat with his arms folded across his chest, frowning at you as though you were a code to decipher.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here,” Chan broke the silence first, giggling.

You shook your head, “honestly didn’t think i’d sign-up either.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight-lipped smile, rocking back on your heels as you glanced at the boy next to him again, “I actually only heard about it from Hyunjin this morning,” you admitted, Hyunjin flashing Chan a grin from behind you as if to say ‘you’re welcome’.

Changbin cleared his throat, making Chan perk up.

“Right, sorry. So, we’ve obviously met but this is our club’s president Changbin,” he gestured to the boy sitting next to him.

Changbin nodded curtly, bringing his hand up to run it through his bleached hair and shoving his cap back on his head with habitual movements.

Now you were starting to understand why Hyunjin was so intimidated by Changbin, always having heard stories about him but only now being able to put a face to the name.

Nodding slowly, you gave him a smile, “nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

Changbin had to stop himself from faltering, his breath hitching when he realised why your name was so familiar.

After all, it had been the first candidate before they’d decided to go with ‘penny’. He wondered how cruel fate was to have brought you, someone with the same name as the person he’d practically based this story on, to be auditioning for the very role.

You tried not to be offended by the way Changbin had simply nodded at you, straightening up in his seat, “and you’ll be auditioning for the role of…?”

Would it hurt him to smile?

You inhaled deeply, trying to hide your amusement as you answered him, “Penny.”

Changbin nodded, Chan humming as he looked up from his copy of the script to give you another reassuring smile.

“Alright, whenever you’re ready. I’ll be taking the lines of the male lead,” Chan told you.

You understood that the scene was some sort of scene where the two romantic leads have some sort of confrontation, and you did your best to get into what you imagined Penny would be feeling, Chan reading the line asking if ‘penny’ had even loved him at all. Dramatic was the word to describe it, really.

You softened your gaze, unintentionally letting it rest on Changbin but deciding to let it stay there, executing your lines all the while trying to ignore the way Changbin’s stare was unnerving you, making you want to prove to him that you were a good actor even though he hadn’t questioned your acting skills.

Hyunjin had been watching the exchange closely, Changbin’s grip on his pencil loosening as he’d let the pencil fall softly against the table.

Changbin wondered if it was some sort of coincidence, because whatever ‘it’ was that he’d been looking for in Penny’s character, you’d managed to convey almost perfectly.

And it was clear that Chan had felt the same way as well, since once your audition was over, the smile on Chan’s face was nothing but beaming.

Once you’d left the room, Hyunjin telling you that they would contact you by the next morning, Chan had turned to Changbin, the same stupid smile on his face.

“That was great!” he nudged Changbin, the younger boy still recovering from the shock of the coincidence of it all, managing to muster a small huff in response.

“Yeah,” Changbin reached over to grab his water bottle, prolonging his silence as he took a long sip, “I don’t think we’d even need to see the rest.”

Chris scrunched his nose up, grinning, “but you know we still will, of course. Just in case.”

Changbin sighed, glancing at the clock, agreeing with Chan even though he knew he’d already had his mind made up.

“Yeah, just in case,” Changbin mumbled, looking out the window and seeing you talk to Minho, tearing his gaze away and rolling his shoulders back.

“Okay, send the next one in.”

===

To: Binnie

How are you?

I’m okay. I like the picture you sent me of you using your scooter. My mom says you look nice. I think so too.

Today I went to the museum and I ate an ice cream for lunch. I don’t have a picture of it but it was a Strawberry ice cream.

I just finished reading your letter. Sorry to say it using a bad word, but i think what your sister did was stupid. I think you should still tell her to ask for permission to use your scooter. But if she still does not listen, maybe you should tell her again. Because my mom always tells me that if I want something, I have to ask for it. So you should do that. Maybe she does not know you don’t like it when she plays with your scooter. Or, you could buy a new scooter. Here is some money so you can buy a scooter. I drew you $50 because that is a lot of money. I hope you have a good day when you read this.

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N.

You weren’t the world’s kindest human alive, you had your petty moments. I mean, there were so many songs and literature and movies that highlighted that idea that no human was perfect, right? But you tried your best, surely.

So, you’d gladly complied when Hyunjin asked you to grab extra cups of coffee for Chan and Changbin (as reluctant as you were. You were strapped for cash as it was).

You figured that was the least you could do before the trouble you were about to cause the both of them. But hopefully, if office etiquette was anything to go by, the simple gesture would show that you were kind, and someone who appreciated the offer given to you, as much as you hated the superficiality of your character.

However, when you showed up at the room, you were reminded that Changbin wasn’t just anyone. And while Chan made his appreciation known, Changbin… was the same as ever. Intimidating, and very hard to read. The sight of it almost made you want to take back his coffee.

He wasn’t wearing a hat today. Instead, he’d let his blonde hair (which looked darker since the last time you saw him, or maybe it was just his dyed-black undercut) fall messily over his forehead in a slight side part.

His black shirt did nothing to hide his physique, every movement of his coming across as a subtle flex, making you have to remind yourself time and time again that you weren’t exactly here to fawn over him.

He would lean back in his seat, scrolling through whatever he was looking at in his phone with one hand, his other hand draped over his stomach and propped underneath his elbow to support it. The way he would look made it seem as if he was almost oblivious to the world around him, only paying attention to what was on his phone until he would laugh at something Chan said, Chan being the only person you’ve seen that managed to elicit seemingly uncharacteristic giggles from him.

Though it wasn’t as if you were given much time to get used to it. The moment Chan had murmured something in his ear, his expression had switched back to ‘strictly business’.

Chan straightened up, looking around the room with his eyebrows slightly raised in question, one hand adjusting the braided leather bracelet around his wrist

“So, shall we get started then?” Chan asked, gesturing to Changbin before typing away at his laptop.

Changbin took his cue, getting up from his seat and making his way around the table to the front of the room, pulling the overhanging screen up to reveal the whiteboard.

“So, first of all, we’ve finalised the actors playing the characters,” he gestured towards you and Minho, “Minho as Soobin and Y/N as Penny. So, we can start shooting about next week. I would say we’re working with a pretty loose deadline because we don’t have to submit it until a few months from now.”

Changbin rolled his shoulders back, his body language seeming fairly relaxed although his expression remained serious nonetheless, “but that doesn’t mean we should slack, obviously.”

His statement elicited a small groan from Hyunjin, who muttered a ‘figures’ under his breath, making you stifle your giggles for Changbin’s sake.

“But we will start with maybe going over the script once through, go over the technical stuff after we get any issues with the flow out of the way.”

He looked as though he were going through a mental list of things to cover, his gaze flickering momentarily to Hyunjin, as if his face would give him answers to the invisible question in his head.

“The people in charge of the props, have you started preparing the letters?” Chan stepped in, earning a shake of the head from the two girls sitting next to Hyunjin, making Changbin wave a hand dismissively in their direction.

“They could start on that after we confirm the script,” Changbin leaned over the table to grab his cup of coffee, proceeding to take a long sip from it.

“Alright, let’s start then.”

Changbin took the empty seat he was standing next to, pulling his laptop closer to him to pull up the script.

Throughout the reading, you tried to keep your comments to yourself, you really did. It just fascinated you how fearful the team was of Changbin (well, aside from Chan), the way everyone seemed to bite their tongues or withhold their comments caused a permanent frown to be etched on your face.

It didn’t make it any better that Minho seemed to have no problems with the script, not even when you’d occasionally leant over to whisper to him and ask if he found that part a little weird or a little abrupt. But you held your tongue for now, (and also because of the side glance Hyunjin would cast your way whenever you would let out a small sigh), you wanted to give Changbin the benefit of the doubt, figuring maybe if he read through his script again he’d realise how one-sided it was.

But thankfully, when you were reading out the lines where the two main characters had ended their date, and on a particularly high note for that matter, it seemed the opportunity to voice your concerns about the script was presented to you when Changbin had spoken up.

“Okay, since the next scene onwards will be where their relationship breaks down, any questions so far?” He asked, though his tone didn’t sound like he was really asking for feedback. But, hey, an opportunity as an opportunity, wasn’t it?

You cleared your throat a little too harshly, raising up your hand as you leaned against the table to be seen better, “uh, actually, me? I mean, I have some feedback actually.”

Changbin looked at you curiously, his gaze landing on you with slight surprise, as if he hadn’t expected it to be you of all people. There was a slight hesitancy evident in the way he paused before giving you a short nod, prompting you to go ahead.

You smiled, ignoring the way Hyunjin had sighed deeply a few seats away from you, dreading the chaos that could have come with people like you and Changbin bumping heads.

“Well, it’s not really specific to this scene. It’s kind of about the whole flow of the plot in general…” you fiddled with the corner of the page you were on, “but I was thinking it would be better to show more of Penny’s point of view? You know, because when I was reading it it just felt a little… weird for them to suddenly break up if everything seemed to be going fine.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes at you, looking back down at his computer with a simple dismissive shake of the head, “That’s not necessary, they’re going to break up anyway.”

The room had fallen silent, everybody seeming to have taken that as a ‘end of the conversation’ kind of line, already beginning to bring their attention to the next scene.

You frowned, unable to control your expression as you made your dismay obvious, casting a desperate look to Hyunjin who honestly looked as though he would pay you not to pursue this.

“But that’s not the point,” you spoke, getting Chan’s attention as he looked at you, silently urging you to continue, “you wanted to show their relationship, right? So, shouldn’t you show… both their parts in the relationship? Since it’s not like this is told in Soobin’s point of view.”

Changbin pursed his lips, “the point is,” he brought his cup of coffee to his lips, taking a small sip before continuing, “their relationship was superficial so it doesn’t matter.”

You mirrored his expression. The way it sounded was that he was just trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter.

Your frown deepened, quick to respond to him.

“That’s the thing, if you’re so insistent on them breaking up, why don’t you just make their relationship lead up to that? The way they’re interacting up to this scene makes viewers think they’re just going to end up together,” you tried to reason, hoping Changbin would understand where you were coming from.

Minho took that opportunity to excuse himself to the bathroom, and as you gave the rest of the film club members a once-over, you hated the way they were all looking at you as if you were cussing Changbin out instead of just giving him constructive feedback, or just voicing your thoughts for that matter.

“Well, not everyone gets a happy ending, I guess.”

He was practically avoiding your message at this point, making you grow more frustrated.

“Okay, look, what’s your intention behind making this film?” you asked, watching carefully as Changbin huffed, looking fairly amused at your insistence, which only served to irk you more.

“Simple,” he shrugged, “to show people like you that not everything that seems so perfect ends up perfect in the end.”

Your lips parted, scoffing, resisting the urge to get up from your seat as you heard Minho re-enter the room.

“People like me?” you echoed spitefully, “okay, fine, whatever. But as you said, if that’s the point of your discourse, shouldn’t your message be to tell people that they can work through things like this instead of just giving up and leaving like Penny did?”

Changbin was annoyed now. To him, you seemed too idealistic to understand his reasoning behind the story. He wondered why it had to be you that was telling him this, you were the only one that was trying to find problems with his story, that he’d based on his own life for that matter.

“Well what if she did, huh? What if Penny did just up and leave with no warning?”

You rolled your eyes, hearing Chan struggle to stifle his laugh, your exchange with Changbin being just about the most excitement he had in the whole school year.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “which is why I'm saying that your job as a storyteller is to shed some light on the reason behind that. Then your story wouldn’t be about showing how things don’t turn out the way they seem, it would just be telling you, but not showing you. You could just ask literally anybody to hurt Minho—”

“Soobin,” you heard Minho correct from beside you, making you huff, scrunching your eyes shut tightly before opening them harshly.

“—Yes, Soobin’s character, and it would be the same? The story wouldn’t show me anything other than the fact that it was Soobin’s fault he ended up that way. He didn’t question anything that happened, he just let it happen to him,” you sighed again, clenching your jaw, “Penny isn’t anything other than some 2-dimensional plot device designed as an excuse for Soobin to sulk about how cruel love is.”

Changbin scrunched his nose up, his brows knitting in annoyance as he stared at you, a silence falling again in the room. Changbin was about to interject when Chan had decided that would be a good time to step in.

“C’mon guys, let’s… calm down a little. We’re talking about penpals here, not the king’s lover betraying him.”

You cast Chan a questioning look at his example, making him shrug, continuing, “we’re running a little overtime anyway, we can just continue discussing this another time.”

Just like that, the rest of the film club members seemed eager to leave, either rushing for their next class or just not wanting to be in the same environment as an irritable Changbin.

Chan directed his gaze towards you as you were getting up from your seat, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I’m sure Changbin will keep your points in mind, don’t worry,” he reassured you just as Changbin chimed in with a ‘no, I won’t’ behind him, leaving the room promptly afterwards, leaving you free to let out the frustrated groan you had been withholding.

“Thanks, Chan. Sorry I kind of made you guys overrun your time,” you sighed, watching Hyunjin making his way to you with wide eyes.

Chan shook his head, holding his laptop securely in one arm as he let out a burst of giggles.

“No, don’t apologize! I should be thanking you, I didn’t think about your point until you mentioned it just now,” he murmured, “but again, sorry about Changbin. He’s just a little… protective of his work.”

Hyunjin let out a low whistle from next to you, “Extremely.”

You nodded, shrugging, “It’s alright, I get it.”

Chan flashed you a smile, his hand reaching out to give your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “Thanks, again. See you around.”

Leaving the room with Hyunjin, you ignored the way he’d begun to chuckle to himself, “honestly, in this whole time i’ve been in the film club, i’ve never seen Changbin actually… argue with someone.”

You rolled your eyes, kicking at the stray pebble “well if he continues like this, you’re gonna be seeing a lot more of it.”

“You sure seemed like you were having fun, though, weren’t you?” Hyunjin was being sarcastic, knowing he was just doing this to dissuade you, his tone eliciting a scoff from you.

You shook your head.

“You know for a fact I wasn’t. But it wouldn’t sit right with me if I just kept my mouth shut like you and the rest of your film club goons,” you shot him a pointed glare.

Hyunjin pressed his lips into a firm line, holding his hands up beside his head in surrender, prompting you to continue.

“If I want something done, I’m gonna ask for it. It’s as simple as that.”

===

To: my penpal Y/N

How are you?

Was your audition good? Thank you for the money. But $50 is a lot of money so I don’t think I should spend everything, my mom says I need to save money. Thank you for telling me what I should do, but in the end I didn’t buy another scooter. I did this because we were learning about needs vs wants in school and I think the scooter is a want. My teacher says this means I don’t really need it. But needs are things like colour pencils and pens and paper so I can write letters to send you. Maybe your mom tells you you cannot buy so many stickers because the stickers are a want and not a need.

Anyway, I think I can just let my sister take my scooter. Maybe I will just get another scooter for myself when I am older and I have more money.

I hope I will be hearing from you soon, Binnie.

As you said before, you weren’t perfect, but you surely did your best. But days like this you wondered if people like Changbin even tried.

After your interaction with said stubborn being during your meeting with the film club had put you in a bad mood, you were currently seated with Jisung in a booth at a popular burger outlet outside school, thankfully having managed to get a place in the midst of the anxious afternoon crowd. And even more thankful that you could eat your lunch in peace where you were very much away from Changbin.

“What did you say to him, again?” Jisung hadn’t bothered trying to hold in his laughter as he was almost shouting over the noise of the crowd, making you huff as you bit into your burger.

“I said it’s funny that he was talking so much shit about the main couple when he’s dedicating his entire movie to them,” you drawled, your annoyance returning as you recounted the spat you had with him during the small meeting you had with the film club just before lunch.

Jisung’s shoulders shook as he laughed, fumbling with his drink as his eyes shut tightly, giggles leaving him and seeming as though they would never end, “and that’s what you said word for word?”

You nodded, reaching over to press the lid of Jisung’s drink down firmer before he could spill it all over himself.

“I know you’re friends with him but I really don’t know how you work with this guy, he’s as stubborn as stubborn goes,” you huffed, taking another bite into your burger as Jisung’s laughter had died down, though his smile had only lingered.

“You’re worse,” he snickered, earning a glare from you.

Jisung remained unaffected, “Look, he’s honestly fine once you get to know him,” he tried to reason, sounding as though he were trying to convince a child to make friends, “I mean, we’re all still kind of wary around him when he’s in a mood but honestly, if not for the way you guys met, I’m pretty sure you two would get along well. He seems like he’s your type.”

Your eyes widened, scandalised at Jisung’s implication.

“The only thing he has in common with my exes is being annoying, okay?” you rushed to push away the curiosity of what Changbin would be like as a boyfriend. Curse Jisung and his stupid implication.

“And plus,” you continued, hearing the doorbell chime for what sounded like the thousandth time to signal yet another entry into the diner that was now overflowing with people asking for take-out, “it’s not like he’s been very nice to me since I got involved with his stupid short film.”

Jisung sighed, his gaze momentarily distracted by something behind you, making you wave your hand in front of his face to keep his attention. He’d glanced back at you, an almost dazed look in his eyes before he’d given you a small smile, taking a bite out of his burger and not waiting to finish chewing before he answered you.

“I honestly think that he just needs a little more persuasion. Like, take this for example, something similar happened with him and Chan when they were composing something in the past, and trust me, if you don’t give up now, i’m pretty sure he’d agree to come to a compromise or something,” he gave you a shrug, his gaze returning to whatever was behind you (probably someone cute, you figured). You couldn’t say you blamed him; almost all your conversations revolved around you and Changbin’s squabbles these days.

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him, “you really think he’d be willing to rewrite his script?”

Your tone was skeptical, already imagining how Changbin would simply tell you to keep dreaming if you’d brought up the proposal to him.

At Jisung’s lack of response, you’d frowned slightly, seeing him turn back to you calmly as his smile widened, giving you yet another shrug.

“Maybe you can ask him yourself.”

If there was any feeling one would get just before something bad was about to happen, that was definitely what you were feeling now.

You didn’t dare to tear your gaze away from Jisung as you watched him turn his body, his hand coming up in a wave that had only turned into a hi-five, his behaviour only adequately described as boisterous as he welcomed the people you were hoping you wouldn’t have to see for another week until the next film club meeting.

Well, Chan was fine, you were simply referring to Changbin.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Didn’t know you and Jisung were friends,” Chan gave you a sweet smile, gesturing between you and Jisung as he spoke.

Jisung chimed in with a nonchalant “Best friends, actually,” which had only made you shoot him a glare.

“Might have to re-evaluate that,” you muttered, turning back to Chan and Changbin to give them as warm a smile as you could muster.

“Are you guys eating here too?” you asked.

You were oblivious to the way Changbin’s gaze flickered from your face to the food in your hand, and then back to Jisung, looking perfectly unaffected as he joked with Jisung about something you didn’t quite catch.

“Well, we wanted to, but, you know, with the crowd and all we probably won’t be able to get a seat,” Chan’s gaze was pitiful, to say the least, making Jisung raise his eyebrows, and that sinking feeling within you had only intensified as his next sentence left his lips.

Jisung had barely glanced at you as he held onto Changbin’s hand.

“Well, our booth’s actually meant to seat four people, so you guys could squeeze in if you want,” he offered.

Changbin quirked his eyebrow, skepticism written all over his features, though mostly directed towards you, “you guys really won’t mind?”

You glared at your burger, scrunching your nose up as you avoided Changbin’s pointed gaze.

Jisung scoffed, giving Changbin a loud smack on the arm, “of course we won’t, right Y/N?”

He turned to you, giving you a smile you could only describe to be devious (and fairly amused).

“Yeah,” your voice took a pitch higher unintentionally, “go ahead,” you murmured, scooting into the booth to make space for them.

You took another bite from your burger, watching out of the corner of your eye as Changbin took a seat next to Jisung, Chan excusing himself to retrieve both their orders.

“Funny that you showed up, actually. Y/N and I were just talking about your short film,” Jisung spoke, earning a pointed glare for you, as if daring him to continue (and you should’ve known that wasn’t going to faze him at all).

“Oh, were you?” Changbin drawled, his eyebrows raised and a slight smile playing at his lips, “I’m sure Y/N had a lot to say about that.”

As you were about to speak, Jisung had interjected with a little giggle, “she did.”

Changbin didn’t seem to take Jisung’s comment as an answer, simply keeping his gaze fixed on you, prompting you to produce an answer of your own. You ignored the knowing look Jisung gave you.

You sighed, “maybe I wouldn’t, if someone just took my suggestions.”

Changbin had let out a small huff at that, leaning back in his seat with his arms folded over his chest as Chan returned to the table with his and Changbin’s food, casting curious glances between the three of you seated at the table.

“Hope you guys didn’t fight while I was gone,” he joked, making you sigh, and you missed the pointed look he cast Changbin’s way when the boy had scoffed, “what were you guys talking about before I came?”

You shrugged.

“We were talking about the short film,” you told him, “kind of.”

Chan had perked up at that, turning to you as he handed Changbin his food, “oh yeah, I wanted to ask if you had more feedback about the scenes.”

You nodded, “I do, actually.”

Changbin’s gaze lifted from his burger to look at you as he sighed, “what is it now?”

You huffed, “It’s not that bad. I was just wondering if the content of the letters were gonna be read out during the scene? ‘Cause if it is, then maybe we could kind of make it a little more relevant to their personalities or something.”

“Will that be hard? What do kids even talk about in their letters?” Jisung laughed.

Changbin’s lips parted slightly before pressing them into a firm line.

“Well, they’ll be like 9 when they’re exchanging letters, I suppose, so I guess they’d at least know how to have a conversation… ” He sounded almost hesitant, making you wonder why he made talking about childhood penpals seem like such a complex thing.

You thought about your own penpal, Binnie. You were about that age when you were exchanging letters with him too, figuring you could give some insight on that until Jisung had intercepted.

“At that age all I did was talk about hot wheels, to be honest. Much less talk to girls,” he snorted, making you scoff, using your shoe to nudge his leg under the table.

Chan, who had been silently thinking, had straightened up abruptly.

“Wait,” Chan’s eyebrows lowered, frowning slightly as his lower lip jut out in a slight pout. He directed his attention to Changbin, pointing his index finger towards him, “didn’t you used to have a penpal?”

You had to stop yourself from making your shock too obvious, your eyes widening as your gaze became nothing but accusatory. How badly did his penpal experience go for him to be so cynical about it now?

Whatever it was, the newfound information made you curious as to exactly how much of the story he’d changed, more importantly, how much he’d retained.

“You?” you couldn’t help yourself from blurting, though Changbin remained unamused.

“Yeah, I did,” he bypassed your incredulous stare, answering Chan simply.

Jisung hummed, bringing one hand up to fiddle with his ear piercing, not having expected Changbin’s response.

“Oh, well, what was it like, then?”

Changbin shrugged, resting one of his forearms on the table to support himself, his other hand reaching down to pick up a fry, “was nice. We would exchange letters every week. Talked about a lot of things, sent each other pictures, you know, all that stuff.”

“Do you still keep in contact with them?” Chan asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, not having heard much from Changbin about this penpal in the entire duration of their friendship.

Changbin shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, picking up his cup to swirl it around noisily, the ice rumbling as it got tossed around in the paper cup, proceeding to take a sip from it as the rest of you looked on curiously at him.

“Well, why not?” you dared to ask, a million different possible reasons running through your mind.

Maybe they did something to piss Changbin off, or maybe they got into a big fight (which also made you wonder how heated fights could get over snail mail), or maybe one of their parents disapproved of the other. The possibilities were endless as you anticipated just why 8 year old Changbin would’ve cut ties with his penpal. And maybe, you were enjoying the dramatic aspect of it a little more than you should’ve been.

But something about the way he replied felt restrained. Maybe you were reading into it too much, but he almost sounded evasive. But, of course, you chose to ignore (suppress) it for now, watching intently as Changbin had once again shrugged, an air of nonchalance to his gestures as he met your gaze.

“Just… grew out of it, I guess.”

You huffed, memories of your own penpal making his response sting.

You don’t think you ever ‘grew out’ of talking to binnie. You remembered how frustrated you were when you’d stopped hearing from him after he moved, and every letter you’d sent to his new address had only been returned back to you. Maybe he grew out of it, but you wouldn’t have left it like that if you had a choice.

You rolled your eyes at his response, something in your response seeming to have irked Changbin.

“What?” he snapped, making you hesitate just the slightest bit, deciding to bite your tongue and shake your head.

“Nothing.”

Chan let out a huff of laughter through his nose next to you, shaking his head at you goodnaturedly.

“Forgive us, you always seem like you have something more to say,” Chan spoke, apparent ‘damage control’ for Changbin’s abrasiveness.

“Wait, so, you’re really not gonna have a happy ending?” Jisung frowned.

“Well, Changbin and I were talking about it after the meeting that day, we figured since we have time we could afford to change the script a little,” he hummed, turning to you, “you know, since it could be a chance to kind of send a more hopeful message like you were talking about.”

Your eyes widened, your hand almost reaching out to touch Chan’s arm but realising you were still holding your burger, “really? You’re open to changing it?”

Changbin’s gaze flickered momentarily to you, observing your posture, noticing how open and comfortable you seemed with Chan, the sight alone enough to make him scoff. Call him a cynic, but he couldn’t tell if this was you acting or not just to get your way.

“There could be another meeting for you to discuss and work on the script together, but yeah, we’re alright with changing it.”

You turned to Changbin, a hint of distrust in your stare, making him huff again, putting down his drink on the table with a little too much force.

“He said it, not me,” he told you, pressing his lips firmly into a tight line, “you wanna change my script so badly? Fine. But your ideas better be worth changing it for.”

Jisung scrunched up his nose as you turned back to Chan, not wishing to look at Changbin’s face any longer, leaning over to whisper to Changbin, “you two don’t like each other very much, do you?”

If he was caught off guard by Jisung’s statement, he didn’t show it.

Changbin shrugged, picking his drink back up, “they started it.”

At the sound of his accusation, your eyes narrowed, turning to glare at Changbin, thankful for Jisung nudging you under the table before you could retaliate with a comment of your own. Chan simply casting you an amused look, his eyebrows raised in a silent question of what you were about to do.

You shook your head.

Whatever, you pushed your annoyance away in your head, as long as Chan was there during the rewrite meeting, you’d hopefully still be able to maintain your sanity.

Or at least, that was the hope that you were holding on to until that night when you’d gotten a text from Chan.

Chan 11:17pm - hey, i gave changbin your number if you don't mind... you know, since you guys have to discuss to rewrite the script and all -

You’d almost sat up from your bed in shock, frowning against the harsh light coming from your phone and the contents of the text, the latter obviously making you more disgruntled.

11:17pm - won’t you be discussing with us?? Why not just make a group chat??? -

Your heart was pumping with anxiousness as you awaited his reply, something about the sound of the clock ticking putting you in an even more anxious state, your heart almost sinking as texts from him and Changbin had come in at the same time.

You looked at Chan’s first.

Chan 11:18pm - oh i didn’t tell you? All script writing is done by Changbin. I’m just in charge of the other elements like props and directing and whatnot -

You shut your eyes, suddenly wishing you could travel back a few seconds back in time and not have checked your phone when Chan had texted you. Bringing your fingers across your screen reluctantly as you typed a reply to him.

11:18pm - ohhh hahaha right i forgot, thanks chan -

Now for the bigger menace at hand. You swiped over to Changbin’s message, your finger lingering on his chat as you decided to stop being petty and just open it.

seo changbin 11:18pm - just so you know, i’m doing this only because Chan asked me to. we can go over the changes at my house. is saturday okay with you? -

You pulled your notifications bar down. Tomorrow was Friday, and from what you knew you were pretty much free on Saturday. Fortunately or unfortunately for you.

You took another deep breath as you typed out your reply to him. For your own sanity, you tried to ignore the way he felt the need to clarify that he wasn’t doing it for your sake.

11:18pm - saturday’s fine. What time?-

Resisting the urge to go offline when you saw him come online, you felt as though you were in some sort of staring contest through your phone as you watched him type, his message coming in quickly.

seo changbin 11:18pm -1? We could order in and discuss -

You sighed, it wasn’t enough that he had to take away one peaceful lunch from you today, but yet another one on Saturday.

11:19pm -okay text me your address-

Another sigh left you when you read that the address he’d sent you was just a few blocks away from your apartment. Maybe he lived alone too; most of the apartments here were occupied by college students looking for affordable rent and shorter travel time.

seo changbin 11:19pm - don't be late -

You scoffed, shoving your phone back onto your bedside table as you slumped back against your pillow, burying your head into your pillow and kicking at your blanket that covered your feet uncomfortably.

Fine, if he wanted to be that way, that was fine by you. You would just do this for the sake of the short film. Yeah. That’s all it would be.

===

“Let’s make this quick and painless for the both of us,” you blurted the moment Changbin had opened his door to let you in, glad to see he was donning an outfit similar to yours (sweatpants and a t-shirt), your previous worries of being underdressed dissipating instantly.

He let out a sigh, his hand coming up to run it through his hair, his hair messy and sticking up at one place awkwardly, looking as though he’d slept on that side for too long.

“Hello to you too,” he grumbled, shutting the door behind you as he gestured to the living room.

You glanced around his rather plain apartment as he led you to the living room, his laptop resting on one of the cushions of the sofa, soft music verberating from the device.

“What food do you want?” he asked, earning a thoughtful frown from you as you set your things down on the floor next to the sofa, taking a seat on the other side of it.

“Fastest delivery would be if we order from that Chinese food place nearby, right?”

Changbin’s eyebrows quirked up in intrigue, “I was thinking of that place too,” he handed you his phone, letting you order what you wanted before handing it back to him.

It was otherwise silent between the both of you as you waited for the food to arrive, neither of you quite knowing how to break the silence. The tension slowly made you grow increasingly fidgety as time passed.

Changbin had sat down on the floor next to the coffee table, resting one hand on his soft rug as he pushed a stack of papers towards you, drawing your attention away from your soft copy of the script on your phone as you realised it was a hard copy of the script.

“Just use this, i’ve got a copy on my laptop,” he mumbled, making you nod, accepting it from him as you flipped to where you left off.

Changbin glanced at the clock, in disbelief that only 10 minutes had passed and yet he found himself feeling jittery at your silence. Turning his gaze towards you, he let out a small sigh.

He had expected you to say something by now, or let out some snarky comment about something he wrote. Your silence was unnerving him, it was almost as if he wanted you to say something, especially with the way you were scribbling notes beside the pages with a mechanical pencil he didn’t even recall seeing you take out.

“Which scene are you at?” he blurted, his anxiousness getting the better of him, making your head shoot up abruptly, surprised at his sudden outburst.

“Uh,” you glanced back down at the page, “I’m at the part where they find out they used to be penpals,” you told him.

“Okay,” Changbin murmured, thinking about where to go from there, momentarily distracted when he’d heard the doorbell ring. Pausing, he’d stepped out momentarily to retrieve your food, the rustling of bags getting louder as he neared the table.

Setting the food down on the table, surprising you when he’d pushed the food towards you, your surprise hadn’t gone unnoticed by Changbin.

“What?” he scoffed.

You shrugged, “nothing, just didn’t know you were capable of doing nice things,” you told him, a sarcastic lilt to your tone.

Changbin inhaled deeply, shooting you a patronizing smile as he broke his chopsticks, “anyway, I think we could start from there, since that’s kind of the turning point of their relationship.”

You nodded, pulling your food towards you as you began to eat.

“I was thinking,” you spoke, pausing to chew on your food, “this part has a lot of unanswered questions, like… I wouldn’t just let it go so easily if I found out someone was my penpal that I grew apart from. I felt like they should’ve had a bit more of a confrontation there.”

Changbin hummed, shocking you when he’d leant closer to you to look at the script, making you push it towards him, a small huff leaving him at your action.

“What questions do you think Penny would ask, then?” he asked you.

“I don’t know, maybe why they stopped talking in the first place?” there was a hint of sarcasm in your tone, making Changbin look at you over his mouthful of noodles.

“I told you already, Soobin grew out of it—”

You grimaced at his answer, your chopsticks halting before your mouth momentarily before you shovelled your noodles in with annoyance, “I don’t believe that.”

“I used to have a penpal, and I can guarantee you, the reason why we stopped talking wasn’t because we ‘grew out of it’,” you told him pointedly, having to stop yourself from growing too riled up about it, Changbin tensing up at your revelation.

Bringing his glass of water to his lips, he let his gaze wander around everything but you as he thought, curious as to what your penpal experience was like. Finally meeting your gaze, he almost sputtered over his water with how much he wasn’t paying attention to his actions, the only thing on his mind being to get his words out.

“You did?” It was pathetic, really, that that was all he’d come up with after such a long pause.

You nodded.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter, the story isn’t based on my penpal, it’s based on yours,” you attempted to draw the attention away from you, unsettling feelings of sourness building within you at the thought of how you left things.

“So, think. What would you be curious about?” you prompted him, seeing him purse his lips, a certain dazed look tinting his gaze.

Swallowing his mouthful of food, he looked at you as he thought. He would want to know if they were still passionate about acting, he would want to know how their family was doing, he would want to know if their personality had changed, if they were still the assertive ‘go after what you want’ character that had encouraged him so much. Or maybe, just how they are.

Changbin’s lips parted, shaking his head slowly, “... so many things,” he murmured.

An unexpected tension fell between the both of you, Changbin’s eyes meeting yours with a sort of unspeakable thoughtfulness, as if he was still thinking about your question.

You broke eye contact first, “write that, then. Who knows? Maybe they’re both as curious as the other.”

“You’re one of those glass half full people, aren’t you?” he huffed, making you click your tongue in annoyance.

“And what? You have no glass at all?” you retorted.

“Would you still be… curious too? Even If it didn’t end well?” he asked suddenly, a stupid question, Changbin thought, but still something he felt compelled to ask in the moment, as if he wanted the confirmation that you, someone with a penpal experience as well had shared the same sentiments as him.

You nodded, “of course I’d be. I could hate you and still be curious about you,” you shrugged.

“Me?” Changbin asked, making your eyes widen, the tension dissipating slightly as you shook your head vigorously, your hands coming up to wave at him dismissively.

“No no, not you. I meant-” you stopped yourself, glaring at him, “I just meant it as an example.”

And for what you were sure was the first time, Changbin had laughed, beginning to feel a bit more comfortable around you, his eyes forming narrow slits and the apples of his cheeks rounding slightly as he grinned, soft breathy giggles leaving him.

“Alright, I get it. It’s not a secret that you don’t like me.”

You huffed, not being able to help but feel the need to reassure him, “you’re not… that bad I guess. Jisung talks you up all the time.” you said, unsure why you felt the need to reassure him that you didn’t have a burning hatred for him, “you’re just stubborn as hell.”

He scoffed, “I could say the same about you.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, reaching over to flip the page, “glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

“Now that you said it,” Changbin began, moving on quickly from your bickering as he shoved his empty food packaging aside, “I do think Soobin would be curious about the things they talked about in their letters.”

You perked up at that, eyebrows raising, “That reminded me, I actually still have some of the letters from my penpal when we were younger, if you want I can loan them to you for some inspiration or something.”

Changbin nodded, flipping over to another page before pausing to type something on his computer, “yeah, actually that would be useful.”

You continued to look at the script for what had become hours, the both of you deciding it would be easier if you each assumed one of the character’s voices, speaking on behalf of the characters as you discussed. Coming up with a ‘what would soobin/penny do?’ process.

All the while during this discussion, Changbin had been scribbling down in his beaten up journal, the sides of the spine of the book peeling off when he’d set it down on the table, making you grimace.

“Do you think Pe—”

“Why don’t you just get a new journal? This one’s making such a mess,” you blurted out, frowning at the way the little brittle pieces of God knows what material covered his notebook had fallen onto the coffee table, making him tear his gaze away from what he was writing, looking at the mess on the coffee table you were gesturing at and letting out an amused huff.

“Oh, didn’t notice,” he smiled, “but that won’t be necessary, this journal’s been serving me fine.”

“It’s literally falling apart,” you pointed out.

“And you’re literally exaggerating.”

You scoffed.

“I mean, look at it, it’s such a hassle to use, since you have to keep cleaning up whenever you do so much as touch it,” you reasoned, seeing him shake his head.

“I don’t need a new journal, I’m perfectly fine using this one,” he told you, making you scrunch your nose up in distaste, Changbin looking at you with amusement heavily laden in his smile.

It seemed that there was something about the hours of bouncing off ideas and bickering that warmed the both of you up more, not feeling as wound up or hostile towards each other as you did a few hours ago, bonding over a shared want for the short film to be good.

“What?” he asked, leaning back against the sofa and resting his arm on one of the cushions, his other hand grasping his fingers as he awaited your response.

“You sound exactly like my mom,” you had a sour look on your face, continuing, “I bet you’re one of those needs versus wants people.” You huffed in amusement, shifting in your seat as you flipped through the scene you were about to discuss.

Changbin’s lips parted in shock, a breathy huff leaving him, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, “You know, those people that decide on buying things through the concept of needing it or not.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, “yeah, like any other normal person.”

“It’s so boring! Ever heard of the concept of treating yourself?” you huffed, gesturing wildly. You were clearly very passionate about this.

Changbin shook his head, the smile lingering on his face, “I’m starting to understand why you’re Jisung’s friend. Sure, a treat once in a while is understandable, but i’d rather not waste my money on things I could do without.”

You huffed, a deep sigh leaving you, recalling a conversation you had with Binnie about his scooter.

“What’s up with boys and this need versus want thing? My penpal said the same thing even though he was only eight,” you mumbled, a small breath of laughter leaving your lips, leaving Changbin frowning at your statement.

Maybe other kids just talked about the same things he did with Y/N? He brushed the thought aside.

“He did?”

Changbin’s voice came out more hoarse than he’d intended, the intent in his stare making you falter momentarily, forgetting what you were doing just for a second.

Thankfully, you’d snapped out of whatever trance you were in, shaking your head dismissively, “nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

Changbin tilted his head at you, narrowing his eyes as he contemplated whether to pursue it or not, watching closely as you busied yourself with flipping pages just to look busy, even though the inside of your mind was spinning with an indescribable feeling that came with convincing yourself that the drift between you and your penpal was merely circumstantial.

You chewed on your lip, hating the way it felt as though your stomach was churning as you remembered the disappointment you felt when your letters had stopped getting sent through.

You were young, surely you shouldn’t blame yourself, you believed that. Your finger fiddled with the corner of the page, staring at Soobin’s dialogue.

‘Did our conversations even mean anything to you?’ the dialogue read, and you inhaled deeply as your head lifted to look at Changbin, your abrupt movement almost making him flinch in surprise.

“Why did you really stop talking to your penpal?” you sighed, curiosity getting the better of you. Though at this point you weren’t sure if it was curiosity or simply reassurance. Maybe even closure. All of which you needed to satisfy.

Changbin knew you weren’t going to accept his ‘grew out of it’ statement for an answer, deciding to be honest with you, you know, for the sake of the short film.

“I just… stopped hearing from them,” he began, heaving a sigh of his own as he shifted in his seat, picking at the imaginary dust on his sweatpants, “guess they had nothing to say.”

You couldn’t lie about it, you felt relieved. A part of you began to understand why he’d painted Penny’s character out to be like that, or furthermore why Soobin had seemed so affected by the revelation.

“Nothing to say…” you echoed, as if trying to wrap your head around his reasoning as well.

A small huff of amusement left him, though there was a hint of bitterness in his smile.

“I wouldn’t have minded, you know.”

He took his lower lip between his teeth, letting it go and you watched as the blood rushed back into his lips, looking redder than before.

Your eyebrows knit into a frown, “Wouldn’t have minded what?”

Changbin met your gaze, giving you a resigned shrug, “hearing it,” he continued, “nothing, everything.”

You could almost feel your heartbeat slowing down, the tense silence returning in the room and making you feel like you couldn’t breathe. Now that was some dialogue.

“Oh,” you broke the silence, your blank expression reading pure shock, your reaction catching Changbin off guard, “write that down, that’s such a Soobin thing to say.”

Changbin couldn’t do anything but laugh, shaking his head at you, “how opportunistic of you,” he teased, though he wrote it down nonetheless.

Maybe you being here was good, Changbin thought, it reminded him not to take himself too seriously sometimes.

===

To: Binnie

How are you?

I hope you are not still sad about your friends. I would tell you not to listen to them but i know that’s difficult sometimes because you can hear everything they say. But they were being very mean so they are not nice people. I don’t agree with what they said, because i think you are very nice and you have a nice smile. I don’t think you are scary. Sometimes my mom tells me i should smile more so people think i’m happy but I think you should just smile if you are happy. If you are sad then you can be sad. It is not a bad thing. I’m your friend because you’re nice to me and I like talking to you. If they’re going to be mean to you then they’re not your friends. If they do that to you again you can tell me their address and I will go and tell them myself!

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N

You’d shown up on the filming set on the first day absolutely buzzing from head to toe and ready to go (though, when you told Jisung about how you felt he’d insisted it was because of the lack of substantial sleep and the cans of energy drink you’d both drank the night before while he was helping you prepare your lines), but it seemed that everyone on the set was more tense than ever.

You found Hyunjin huddled with a few of them next to the sound cart, deciding to approach them to ask where Changbin was, having bought a coffee for him along the way.

“Hey,” you called, Hyunjin jumping in shock as he turned, his hand over his heart as he winced at you.

“Why do you move so quietly!” he groaned, making you dismiss him with a wave.

“Did something happen? You guys look stressed,” you took a step towards them, possible reasons fluttering around in your mind but none seeming quite appropriate for the context you were in. Maybe the semester’s GPA results were out?

“Whatever, do you guys know where I can find Changbin?” The boy next to Hyunjin, a freshman by the name of Jeongin had sucked in a sharp breath at your question, making you grow even more confused.

“He’s… a little tense these days, so I’d suggest being a more careful around him,” Chan explained, earning nods of agreement from the film club members.

Your eyebrows raised, confusion showing in a slight pout on your lips. You didn’t remember him behaving out of the ordinary when you’d seen him the day before.

“Where’d he go?”

“He’s over there,” Chan pointed towards where the camera was set up and true enough, you saw Changbin seated at a bench there busying himself with his phone.

Nodding, you’d made your way over to Changbin, discomfort growing within you at the stares you were getting from the club members (some of which you didn’t even know the names of) as you made your way towards the blonde haired boy. It was a wonder why they all avoided him like the plague.

Changbin seemed to have sensed your presence, looking up from his phone and giving you a small wave as you reached the bench, sitting down next to him and holding out his cup of coffee.

Accepting it gratefully, he’d given you a nod.

“Thanks,” he glanced at your hands, “you didn’t get one for yourself?”

You let out a small burst of chuckles, “nope, figured it wasn’t the most logical thing to do since i’m already pretty alert from last night’s energy drinks.”

Changbin sucked in a sharp breath, clicking his tongue in teasing disapproval, “I figured as much, Jisung was way too hyper when I met him at the studio.”

Your expression was sheepish, “I’d say I was sorry but it was... important.”

Changbin huffed, “It’s alright, as long as you’re taking care of yourself.”

Before you could react to his statement, Changbin had acted as though he hadn’t said anything, an amused smile playing at his lips as he tore his gaze away from you, looking forward as he took a sip from his cup, “ready to film today?”

You nodded, regaining your bearings, trying not to think too much of his words.

“Pretty much, you?”

Changbin nodded, “yeah, even though we still have a little bit of the script left, I would say i’m pretty confident.”

You glanced behind Changbin, spotting Hyunjin looking at the both of you with sheer disbelief, making you roll your eyes, turning back to Changbin, angling your body on the bench so you could hug your knees to your chest, looking at him curiously.

“Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded, looking at you with confusion written in his features, clasping his hands around his coffee cup as he rested his hands on his lap, “yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Maybe it was just his resting bitch face.

“Smile,” you commanded, nodding your head when he’d looked even more confused.

You watched in amusement as Changbin had laughed, shaking his head before looking at you with an all too sarcastic smile, his hand coming up in a peace sign next to his cheek, a smile unknowingly making its way onto your face at the sight.

“Okay now, don’t smile,” you continued.

Changbin had let his smile fall, looking just the same as he did when you’d shown up, making you press your lips into a firm line, a slight knit in your brows as your eyes narrowed.

Turning his head, he straightened up.

“Cool, Minho’s here,” he said, getting up and holding a hand out to help you up.

“Thanks,” you muttered, not expecting him to turn around and give you a smile.

“Let’s go, Penny.”

It was strange to you that there was something that felt so familiar about his smile, it reminded you of something that made you feel nostalgic. You liked seeing him smile. Changbin had a nice smile.

You brushed the thought away, nodding as you took his hand, letting him help you out.

“What, so you guys don’t hate each other anymore?” Jisung groaned later on that same week when you’d told him about the exchange you had.

He lifted his head from where he lay on your bed, “God, with you guys it’s like everyday’s something different.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement, “well… that’s because it is, isn’t it?”

You spotted the box of letters from your childhood penpal hidden beneath a stack of novels you had yet to unpack, your eyes glistening with triumph as you reached into your storage closet, fishing it out with a grunt.

“Come to think of it, Changbin hasn’t said anything about you since that day you met him to rewrite the script,” he murmured thoughtfully.

Heaving a sigh as you got up from your squat, you closed your closet, “which day? We met up a few times for the script.”

Jisung perked up at that, sitting up slightly and supporting his weight with his elbows.

“You did? Why am I only finding out about this now?” he scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to your desk to set the box onto it, “I told you about it, you just forgot.”

Making your way over to the bed, you flopped down onto your belly next to Jisung, looking at him curiously as he frowned at you. His mention of Changbin had made you curious.

“He… really hasn’t said anything about me?” you dared to ask, regretting it almost immediately when Jisung had taken the opportunity to twist your words.

Jisung’s expression had changed to one that you were all too used to, how his eyes would give away that he was thinking of saying something to tease you, his lips curving into a slight smirk.

“Why? Do you want him to be talking about you?”

You wrinkled your nose, a small panicked scoff leaving you, “yeah, right. Don’t get too carried away there.”

Jisung prodded further, leaning closer to you as he drawled, “well, why not? I mean, you said it yourself, you guys are on pretty good terms now, aren’t you?”

You purse your lips. The film club had been nice enough to give you a month longer to work on the script, you and Changbin ending up getting carried away and doing the whole thing over. And of course, within that month, you interacted with Changbin in some way or another almost everyday.

It could be meetings at his or your apartment, or spontaneous phone calls when one of you thought of an idea and you’d felt inspired to discuss it (even if you were on your bed tucked into your sheets when it happened most of the time), sometimes it was even just simple texts checking up on each other and asking what the other thought about the updates.

Nonetheless, you’d grown used to Changbin’s presence, finding that after that meeting at his house, it was like it had softened the both of you up to each other, especially when you realised your perception of Changbin was all wrong and that really, he was as soft as softies go.

You gave Jisung a shrug, tugging the neckline of your shirt down, feeling as though the room had gotten hotter, “I mean, yeah, I guess. He doesn’t annoy me as much as he used to.”

Jisung let out a chuckle, the laugh bubbling out louder as he continued.

“You know if you tell me you like him now, I won’t make fun of you.”

“You’re lying.”

“So, you do like him?” His grin widened, making you sputter for a better response, figuring you’d dug your own grave with that one.

“Don’t stir shit,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Your reaction had only tickled him even more, clutching his belly as he sighed, “I knew it. Remember? I told you he was your type!” his tone was triumphant, making you regret fuelling his suspicions.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re very happy about that,” you huffed, turning away from him and burying your face in your soft sheets, your hand coming up next to your head to smooth over the fabric.

You felt Jisung’s hand on your arm, his expression grim.

“Wait, so am I really right? You like him?”

You shrugged his hand away, though he hadn’t budged, giving up soon after.

“I mean,” you enjoyed your last moment of peace before you decided to reply to him, “he’s cute, I won’t deny that. And he’s become a lot nicer to me… he’s fun to talk to? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little attracted to him.”

Jisung snickered, “that’s cute, but gross. I can’t believe you like Changbin.”

Trust him to only get that out of whatever you’d just told him.

You turned to give him a wide-eyed look of disbelief, “oh, please, you were the one that kept fluffing him up to me!”

Jisung had simply shrugged, unfazed by your outburst, a small sound of hesitation leaving him.

“I would say I did a minimal amount of fluffing. I just called it before the both of you realised.”

You grit your teeth, “fine, enjoy your moment. But one word about it to Changbin and you’re dead. Got it?”

Jisung’s eyes widened, his hand coming up to mimic zipping up his lips.

“Got it.”

===

“Cut!”

You turned to cast a desperate look to Chan, the said boy looking apologetic as he called for a stop again. You watched as he leant down for Changbin to murmur something in his ear, Chan nodding before making his way over to you and Minho.

“We’re thinking maybe you could try that scene again but maybe with just a little more… in the moment? Maybe try not to rush through it,” Chan suggested to Minho, making the said boy groan.

“Sorry, it’s my fault. It’s just- we’ve been filming for hours, if I wasn’t so scared of Changbin I would’ve—”

“I know,” Chan reassured Minho, giving the both of you a small smile, “hopefully we can get this scene done quickly and then we’ll all be free to go, hmm?”

You nodded, letting Chan make his way back to where the monitor was as you got back into position with Minho.

Changbin watched intently as you and Minho acted out the scene again, something about the way Minho was delivering his lines seeming so unaligned with the picture Changbin had in his head. Was it the lines that weren't doing it for him? Was it because Changbin couldn’t quite tap into the emotions of the character in this scene?

He wasn’t sure what exactly it would look or sound like to be in love, but whatever ‘Soobin’ was showing, sure wasn’t what Changbin wanted it to be.

After you’d finished the scene, the film club members had waited anxiously for Changbin’s greenlight on whether they were free to go, all of them anxiously looking on as Chan went to talk to a few of them at props.

You taken the liberty of making your way over to where Changbin was, seeing him intently monitoring the scene that you’d just shot, the reason behind why he’d made you and Minho run through the same scene 15 times starting to become clear to you.

“That’s not gonna help you make it better, you know?” you spoke, shoving your hands into your pocket and scrunching your eyes shut as you braced against the cool wind that was blowing your way, the trees rustling loudly as Changbin’s head shot up, the frown remaining on his face.

“What?” Changbin figured he came off as a little too annoyed, but he stayed unwavering nonetheless, wanting to know just what you thought you knew about him.

“You know, I watched an interview once, and this actor said something that was so true,” you began, taking a seat next to him, feeling his gaze on you before you continued, your gaze falling on the image of you and Minho on the monitor, “he said that playback makes scenes seem a lot more dissatisfactory.”

Changbin’s frown deepened, “I don’t get it, just spit it out.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile, “I’m trying to give you advice here, okay? As I was saying, be in the moment. Not everything’s gonna turn out like how it is in your head.”

You inhaled deeply, a slight shiver running down your spine at how cold you felt, taking a hand out of your pocket to tap him on the arm.

“Now can you wrap it up and call it a day? The rest of them have been dying to go home but they’re too scared to tell you.”

Changbin hummed, “They are? Why?”

You nodded, seeing Changbin already making to stand up and call for the rest’s attention, with you taking the opportunity to lean over to him and mutter, “Dunno, maybe they just haven’t figured out what a softie you are yet.”

Changbin attempted to press his lips together firmly to contain his smile, though eventually giving up and letting the soft smile be shown on his face as he dismissed the club members, the rest of them already having started shifting their equipment back.

You’d decided to help them shift the equipment while Changbin talked to Chan about something, trying your best to ignore the way the weather seemed to be getting chillier as all the equipment had started feeling cold to the touch. Mental note to start wearing warmer clothes out after today.

“Thanks for convincing Changbin to free us,” Hyunjin sighed when you were coming down the stairs after locking the club room, making you huff.

“He’s not some dictator, you know. You guys could just ask him next time,” you reasoned.

Hyunjin scoffed, “I’d much rather keep my life, thank you very much.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled out your phone as you thought whether to text Jisung if he’d wanted to meet for dinner.

“You’re so dramatic,” you told Hyunjin, “I told him and I got to keep my life.”

Hyunjin scoffed, “that’s cause he—”

He stopped himself abruptly, eyes widening for a split second before he shrugged, “that’s cause you fight with him all the time, it’s different.”

You saw a text come in.

Changbin 8:14pm - do u wanna go get dinner? I’m done talking to Chan -

“Speak of the devil,” you murmured, erasing your drafted text to Jisung and replying to Changbin to say that you would wait at the quad.

Changbin 8:14pm - i was thinking of eating some cold noodles -

You grimaced at the thought, Hyunjin pulling you out of your thoughts, “are you waiting for Changbin?”

You nodded, sensing his hesitancy to let you wait there alone, “you go ahead, I’ll be fine, he’s already on his way.”

Hyunjin frowned, turning to see Changbin from afar already making his way over, Changbin having spotted the both of you and given Hyunjin a wave.

Waving back, Hyunjin nodded, “alright, I’ll see you.”

Tugging your jacket tighter around yourself, you folded your arms, hoping Changbin would hurry up so you could finally go somewhere with heating.

Though once he’d met up with you, you were a little confused when he’d gone a completely different direction than you’d expected, leading you to a traditional restaurant that served mainly soups and broths instead.

Don’t get me wrong, you were thankful for the warmth of the restaurant, of course, but just a little confused about why he changed his mind.

You let him order for the both of you, looking curiously from where you were seated facing him, leaning back in the wooden chairs as Changbin ordered from the older lady running the shop.

“I thought you wanted to eat cold noodles?” you scanned the menu in search of the item, confusion increasing when you found nothing of the sort.

Changbin shook his head, “figured you might wanna eat something warmer,” he admitted, making your lips part in surprise.

“How’d you know?”

Changbin didn’t know how to explain that it was because he’d kept looking at you during shooting and he didn’t miss the way your hands would clench and unclench the fabric of your clothes, or how you’d fold your arms more and shake them out in between takes when you thought no one was looking.

“… just a wild guess.”

You brushed his comment aside, the both of you talking about your upcoming classes or complaining about readings that had yet to be read, the sheer boiling temperature of the stone pot making heat rush to your cheeks and spread through your body, thankful for Changbin’s wild guess.

Leaning back in your seat with your hands over your stomach, you sighed at how full you were feeling, already anticipating your food coma as you let yourself zone out staring at the label of Changbin’s bottle of soju.

“Are they really scared of me?”

You’d dragged yourself out of your daze (reluctantly), your lips pursing, “sorry, what did you say?”

Changbin averted his gaze, fiddling with his fingers under the table. Smoothing his thumb over the soft skin at his palm, his tongue poking at his canines before he looked back at you, meeting your gaze with a certain determination.

“The film club people,” he repeated, “are they really scared of me?”

You shrugged, “yeah, I guess. Like, they talked about it before… I guess it’s because you have that serious expression on a lot so they might take it the wrong way.”

Observing his expression, his lips had parted, a blank expression on his face, “I have a serious expression?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, tilting your head at him, “I think It’s just your resting face. They’re kind of wary of how they act around you during meetings, you know, which is why they had that kind of reaction when I first spoke up about the script.”

Changbin let his grip around his spoon relax, whatever rice he’d scooped into it dispersing into the soup.

“Then why aren’t you scared?”

You almost snorted with how immediate your laughter had bubbled out of you, a bout of chuckles leaving you as your shoulders shook lightly.

“Because,” you waved your spoon slightly, “there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Changbin’s blank expression had prompted you to continue.

“I have no problem with you being assertive about what you want,” you explained, “I mean, if it were my script, i’d probably be equally, if not more, assertive about how I want it. But that’s a good thing about you. You don’t just… shut up if something doesn’t sit right with you. That’s something I’ve always thought was really important.”

Call him crazy, but Changbin couldn’t adequately describe how your words had done more in spreading a giddy warmth in his chest than the food ever could.

He wasn’t always like this. If anything, he’d wanted to say that he’d pushed himself to be more assertive after countless conversations with his penpal about not being afraid to speak up for what you want.

Though he’d always been scared of whether he’d be doing a disservice to the people he worked with if he chose not to speak up, he was glad that you reminded him just why he started doing it in the first place.

Penny’s character in his head had started to look more and more like you. And he was glad.

“You wanna hear something crazy?” You blurted.

You didn’t know where you were going with this. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, really. You just knew that saying what you said to him had triggered a sense of what you could only describe as love within you. If you knew anything about it.

“What?” he asked, the smile on his face making you stop in your tracks. How could he remind you so much of someone, yet seem so much like a mature, upgraded version of them at the same time?

You couldn’t possibly tell him that you were starting to be kind of glad that you didn’t meet Binnie, because you felt like you were looking at him right now. And childhood penpal or not, you were so much more smitten with the one sitting before you.

“Nothing,” you breathed, “nothing, sorry, forget I said anything.”

Your revelation reminded you that you’d brought your old letters from Binnie for Changbin to tap on for inspiration to write the last scene, shutting your mouth and turning to fish the box out of your bag.

“I just remembered, you asked for these right?” you pushed the box towards him, seeing him pick up the box gingerly (as though it were that brittle old notebook he uses), placing it into his bag.

“I’m assuming they’re the letters from your old penpal?”

You nodded, “but don’t laugh when you read them, okay? He was really nice to me.”

Changbin huffed, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips, “yeah, yeah, no promises.”

After you were done with your dinner (Changbin paying for it as a supposed ‘thank you’ for being patient during filming), you’d prepared yourself to fight against the cold night breeze as you stepped out of the restaurant before Changbin, not having expected to feel a warm weight being draped over your shoulders.

“I don’t know why you decided to come out without a coat when you know now’s usually when the weather gets colder,” he tutted his tongue, feigning disapproval, not giving you any time to be shocked at his gesture.

He stood in front of you, tugging the coat tighter around you as he met your gaze, giving you a tired smile.

“I’ll walk you back to your apartment.”

You bit down on your lip, your racing heart and panic making the best reply you could come up with to be a mere, “didn’t peg you to be so gentlemanly.”

To which Changbin shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“I can be pretty romantic if I want.”

You were gonna get whiplash at this rate.

That same night (or day, 3am was a fine line), you’d received an email from Changbin of the last scene for the film, reading through it and having to stop in between for breaths and water breaks because you had no idea Changbin was capable of encompassing such romantic sentiments in a scene.

Looking at what he wrote, you would never have thought he was the same person that kept arguing with you about happy endings going to shit.

Changbin had written the scene in a burst of inspiration, having felt an almost uncomfortably foreign giddiness within him after returning home from your dinner, feeling even more motivated when he’d watched the film footage they’d shot earlier that day (unconsciously rewinding more than once to watch you act) deciding to just go with whatever he was feeling and write down the scene he had in mind.

And if anyone was asking, no, he totally didn’t picture you as Penny and himself as Soobin the entire time while doing so.

By the time you were done, it was almost an hour later, the aftermath of reading his scene making you pick your phone up and send him a text.

4:02am - did something happen? What’s with the lovey dovey script? Did someone finally change their mind about Penny? -

Not long after, Changbin’s reply came in, feeling thankful that he’d only decided to open your box of letters, or more accurately his letters, after he was done with the scene, something about what he found putting him in an all too thoughtful mood.

Changbin 4:04am -let’s just say... i took your advice-

===

“What do you think, Changbin?” Chan’s voice had snapped Changbin out of his daze, the latter looking at Jisung with a shrug.

“I would say you’re just short changing yourself if you didn’t talk to her. I mean, you said you liked her, right? So what are you waiting for?” Changbin sounded almost impatient, his tone eliciting a grunt from Jisung.

“Yeah, you say it like you’re not the one hiding your hopeless crush on Y/N.”

Chan’s eyes widened, not having expected Jisung to say it so blatantly.

Changbin sputtered, looking at Chan for help only to be met with giggles.

“I’m sorry, dude, it was really quite easy to tell.”

Changbin wanted the cushioned booth to swallow him whole, scrunching his eyes tightly shut in a wince.

“Whatever, that’s not the point,” he waved Jisung off dismissively, “we’re talking about your love life here.”

Jisung pursed his lips, shaking his head, “it’s not fun anymore, I wanna talk about yours.”

Changbin glared at Jisung, “i’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Good, ‘cause you should be having it with Y/N.”

Chan raised an eyebrow at the younger boy, humming in suspicion.

“Why do you sound like you know things...”

Jisung shrugged, raising his hands to give a dramatic shrug, “Do I? I guess we’ll never find out since Changbin ‘isn’t gonna have this conversation with me’.”

Chan turned to Changbin, who currently looked as though he would rather die than be here right now, “actually, what are you waiting for?”

Changbin brought a hand up to massage his fingers on his temples, a resigned sigh leaving him.

“I don’t know, I’ll probably not do anything until the showcase. I still don’t know how exactly I wanna go about it.”

Jisung snickered, “you’ll be fine, seriously.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll just enjoy whatever time I have left to think about it till the showcase. Now back to your issue… ”

But obviously, Changbin didn’t use his 3 days of buffer time very well.

He was lucky the atmosphere of the showcase and the unexpected crowd of people had prolonged the time until he’d be in a situation where he’d feel compelled to talk to you about it. Whatever it was.

You hadn’t noticed, obviously, the way Changbin had been keeping himself busy talking to guests and teachers that had shown up, people from the media and publications club. You were too busy being whisked away by your own friends and a already slightly tipsy Minho who thought it was a good idea to pregame drinks before the afterparty later on.

It’d only been when things started calming down and people were actually watching the film that you’d been put in a position where you had no choice other than to think about the boy seated in front of you tapping his foot incessantly on the carpeted floor of the auditorium.

Once the show was over, you’d leant forward, about to congratulate him when you’d both been whisked up by one of the teachers-in-charge, pulling you together with Minho onto the stage to answer questions from the audience.

The questions were fairly simple, most of them from the media and publications club trying to get technical details for their article, allowing you to zone out from where you stood on the stage, letting Changbin smoothly answer all the questions they could possibly throw at him. It wasn’t like Minho was in any position to answer them, tipsy and zoned out of his mind.

It was only when you’d heard him fumbling around with his words that you looked up from the spot on the wall you were staring at, turning to look at Changbin with an embarrassing amount of concern on your features.

“I’m sorry can you repeat the question?” you’d spoken into the microphone, hearing someone that sounded almost identical to Jisung asking how he got inspiration from the story.

You looked at Changbin curiously, as if silently asking if he needed you to step in, only to have him look at you with a blank expression, his mouth opening and closing as he fumbled for an answer.

“Oh, well, I’m sure I can answer this on behalf of Changbin,” you began, “we’d worked on the script together, and it was inspired by a lot of things, like our experiences with pen pals as well as movies like ‘you’ve got mail’.”

Changbin’s shoulders slumped with relief, nodding towards you as a silent thanks, the moment cut short when you were once again whisked away into different crowds to take pictures or to carpool to the afterparty.

Though you were bored 10 minutes into the party, Minho having gotten drunk before you could even get past your second drink, you’d let Changbin have his fun. You figured it was a good thing that he was being recognized for his efforts, even if he didn’t look like he was enjoying the attention very much. He needed it, you supposed, to be forced to see how much people enjoyed the work he made.

But you didn’t stay to see it too long, adjourning to the porch of whoever’s house you were in to enjoy an environment away from the loud music and too many people you didn’t know.

“Already bored?”

You’d jumped at the sound of Changbin’s voice, his footsteps loud against the wooden porch as he took a seat next to you on the swing, holding out his bottle of soda to you, “do you want some?”

You shook your head, seeing him shrug, “suit yourself, then.” He took a long sip of his soda, sighing afterwards.

A tired smile on your face, you let out a deep sigh, “didn’t expect you to find me here so quickly.”

“How could I not?” he laughed, shaking his head, “In case you didn’t notice, I was suffocating in there, figured I deserve a break.”

“Good job, though, I’d say you handled everything well…” you started, your smile growing, “... though there is one thing… I didn’t think you were the type to struggle with public speaking.”

Changbin’s lips parted in shock, scoffing, “shut up, I don’t usually.”

“Sure, you don’t,” you teased, bringing your hands to your sides to support your weight, letting your legs lift off the ground as Changbin used his feet to move the swing gently.

You leant back in your seat, enjoying the silence you were able to get out here as compared to the chaos going on within the house, noticing how tense Changbin seemed, his posture anything but relaxed as he’d let out sigh after sigh, tapping his rings against the seat of the bench absently.

“Relax,” you chuckled, “it’s already over.”

Doing the opposite of relaxing, Changbin simply stopped moving the swing, angling his body to face you more as he fished in his blazer pocket for something, pulling out an envelope from his jacket, “I have uh… something for you.”

Holding it out for you to take, your gaze fell on the colourful envelope, the little strawberry stickers you remembered using your savings to buy as you frowned at the address written on the envelope in your old messy ‘princess handwriting’.

Your gaze darted from the envelope back to him, “how did you… how do you have this?”

“I have it,” he began, letting out yet another sigh, “because you sent it to me.”

If it could, your heart would’ve stopped in that exact moment.

“Read it,” he prompted when you’d stayed silent, your hands moving urgently to open the envelope, your heart feeling warm when you pulled the paper out, already being able to see the ‘To: Binnie’ written with your favourite scented marker.

To: Binnie

How are you? I’m fine. I am writing this very late in the night because I finished my rehearsal for my school play in the evening and I just finished taking a bath. I have to be quick or my mom is gonna scold me for not sleeping yet. I wanted to tell you that you should sign up for the competition. Which is why I have to mail this to you A.S.A.P as possible because you said the sign up closes in a few days. I think that you should just try it out, even if you don’t do well. Because then at least you can say that you gave it a try and you had fun. I saw this on a tv show, and they said if you don’t try, you will never know if it will turn out well, because you didn’t try.

So I’m telling you to try!!!!! Just try your best and have fun. I think you will do well.

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N.

“So this is me… trying… it. Whatever it is,” he sounded out of breath, almost, and your heart had begun to pick up speed at how it seemed as though this would be the time where he would confess his feelings to you (if Soobin and Penny were any guide to go by).

You should’ve known Changbin better by now, though.

“Thank you… for helping me with the film. You know, for giving me crap about it because I know that that wasn’t really what I felt. I was just… bitter, but for some reason, you giving me shit about it kind of reminded me why I liked being friends with my penpal- or, I guess, liked being friends with you, so much in the first place.” he was looking at you more confidently now, straightening up as he continued.

“It wasn’t because you gave me fake money to buy a scooter, or anything,” he laughed, “it was more because you were someone that was friends with me for who I was? You were kind, and you were honest.”

Changbin fiddled with the envelope in his hands as you tried your best to contain your smile.

“And you were especially supportive, you know, in your own argumentative way.”

You let out a huff of breathy laughter at that, your hand coming up to touch your necklace, finding something else to fiddle with to contain your anxiousness.

“I’m glad, though, that I didn’t know you were that Y/N,” he told you, “because I already grew to like this Y/N so much, that… finding out was just… a pleasant surprise.”

For the first time since you saw the letter, you’d spoken, a breathy, “me too,” leaving you, embarrassing you to no end.

“I’m glad it was you,” you murmured, averting your gaze, not having expected Changbin to have reached out a hand towards yours, hovering just momentarily before making the decisive action of grasping it gently.

“Me too.”

“So are you gonna explain why my letters—”

“Shh,” he shut his eyes, the smile on his face making you give in almost instantly, “don’t ruin it.”

===

“I didn’t know people even still sent letters these days,” Jisung snorted, sipping on his coffee that he’d just gone downstairs to buy, “here, you have one, but there's no name.”

You frowned, picking it up and finding the handwriting of your address awfully familiar, feeling as though you’d definitely seen it scribbled on a specific brittle old notebook before.

You flopped onto your bed, opening the letter as Jisung resumed playing whatever game he was busy with on your desktop computer.

Thankful for the distraction, you’d quickly unfolded it, scrunching your nose at his choice of pen name.

To: my penpal Y/N

This letter may just be over a decade overdue, but I wanted to firstly say I’m sorry for making you wait so long. That letter about my film competition, that was the last one I received from you, and one of my favourites. I figured it out, by the way, I gave you the wrong address. Phonics was a very tricky thing for my eight year old stubborn self that refused to cross check with my mom.

I figured sending you a letter was best, you know, since you know I'm not the very best at public speaking, or just speaking in general sometimes, I doubt I'd be able to say as eloquently what I wanted to say to you in this letter.

I wanted to give you a few updates. Firstly, I met someone in my film club. Well, technically I auditioned them for my short film so there’s no one to blame for the trouble they caused other than me. I didn’t like them that much at the beginning. I thought they were just trying to impose their stupid happily ever after beliefs on me, someone who thought I was a big bad cynical bitter man that didn’t believe in love stories.

As you probably guessed, they challenged me (a lot), and waiting to see them started to feel like the days where I would wait to hear my mom tell me that a letter came in for me, even better actually. They reminded me of the qualities in myself that I was always afraid of showing, and they reminded me what was so good about being unapologetic for who I was sometimes, because they accepted all of that, (but not without giving me an shit about it first, of course).

But i’m thankful, I’m thankful because I really grew to like them a lot. I liked how I could be comfortable being myself around her, and I liked how they would support me when I needed it, but also to correct me when I need to be corrected.

They were real, and I liked that, a lot.

So, the point of this was that if they ever happen to receive this, you know, (because I totally didn’t know your current address, obviously), I hope they know that I’ve grown to like them very much, to like the personality that i’ve come to know, and that i’m very excited to grow to know (and like) even more.

I’ll be seeing you, Binnie.

#changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin au #changbin au #changbin fluff #skz changbin #skz au #skz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids fluff #enemies-to-lovers!changbin #on track #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #I love changbin

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genshinwriter111 · 3 years

Text

Diluc X Reader

Warnings: Angst, Blood, Death, Swearing, Injury, Bone-breaking, Mentions of self hate

Probably goes against canon but what do I care?

Gender Neutral (They/Them, You/Yours)

It had been a long month for the winery owner. Diluc had returned home, hoping to just get some quiet. That’s all he wanted, at least an hour. Just a bit of time to calm down from the weeks of nothing but work, fighting and stress. By some luck, the abyss had picked up its work at the same time many orders had come in, and other things had been sabotaged.

Fate had other plans, because just as he walked inside, you rushed over to him, with a worried look in your eyes. “Diluc! Are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down, checking for injuries. “I’m fine, (Name). But would you leave me alone, just for an hour? I need a break.” He asked, seeming exhautsed.

“Absolutely not! You were gone for a month, wirh zero contact to anyone but the staff. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” You snapped back in retort. You couldn’t help it, he’d left with no warning and didn’t bother even sending a letter, or leaving a note? If it wasn’t for the staff telling you otherwise, you would’ve thought he died in a battle.

“(Name). I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I just need one hour. Then you can worry all you want.” Diluc said, his eyes narrowing, growing frustrated. You didn’t seem to notice, and continued pestering him. It took just a few more pushes, before he finally snapped.

Diluc’s tone was harsh, and held clear irritation. He massaged his forehead, aggravated. “Are you unable to understand I don’t want to be around you right now? It would’ve just been an hour, but I need a break. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he turned, leaving the main room. You yourself were angry, and tried to be as caring as possible towards him, and he took that for granted. (At least in your eyes, he did.)

You felt like it was maybe a decision made in anger, but you walked out. You decided that if he was going to hurt you like this, you would hurt him in return. Not directly, no. From afar, by supporting the one thing he hated the most in life. The Abyss. You’ll work to help their plans from the sidelines.

It was a long time later, maybe a few months. You didn’t know exactly, you hadn’t even returned to the city, unless it was for an attack. It was an odd encounter when you accidentally ran into an abyss mage, and they assumed you would attack. When you explained the situation, it seemed pleased. It had reported back to the others, and you were now regarded as an ally. You were thriving, especially knowing this was revenge on him. He had shoved you aside like you were disposable, (which wasn’t true, but that’s how you saw it.) and you were angry.

On the other hand, Diluc, was distraught. None of the maids knew where you’d gone, you hadn’t said a word, just like he did. He hoped that you were just busy, commissions, work from the knights, helping the traveller, anything other than being dead. He could never guess what you had done, he would never assume something like that of you. He’d tried by the knights, and only doubted them more. The adventurer’s guild hadn’t seen you either in monstadt nor liyue. He’d even asked the traveller, and got nothing.

It was as if, you had disappeared. He didn’t want to think you were dead. He didn’t want to think it was anything like that. Maybe you were avoiding him, seeing as that fight was pretty rough and maybe he had been too harsh..Wait..

“The abyss! They..they could’ve taken them...I should never have let my guard down, what have I done...” Diluc yelled out to nobody in particular, as he was alone in the manor. “They probably think I hate them..” He muttered, and despite swearing he wouldn’t let himself cry again. A tear fell, and then another, and then he was sobbing into his hands. He didn’t want to lose you. But, he was sure by now, you would never forgive him. He hadn’t even assumed you would be taken by the abyss, and now he was furious. He didn’t know the truth. He didn’t know you were apart of the group he hated the most.

An abyss mage warned you that he was looking for you, as others had been interrogated. You nodded in thanks to them, grabbing your weapon and donning the mask you had wood crafted to conceal your identity. You had dyed your hair with fruits, and your armour mostly concealed your body. As far as you were aware, he wouldn’t recognise you. The one thing you forgot, was the necklace he had given you a long time back. You had been used to wearing it normally, and hadn’t taken it off. Thankfully, it was tucked behind your armour.

The day shortly arrived when you crossed paths. He didn’t have time to ask questions before you attacked. You weren’t going to kill him, as angry as you were you couldn’t go that far. It may seem selfish, one fight and you decided to leave. But it had been many fights, many time he’s come home late, and forgotten anniversaries. All of that combined with him practically abandoning you, had caused you to break. You had tried being understanding, but that all vanished when he practically told you to fuck off.

Diluc didn’t know how bad it had hurt you, as far as he was aware, you weren’t affected. He couldn’t let his mind distract him. He had to focus on his opponent, which was a tricky one. It was as if they knew his attack patterns by heart..Well, that was the truth. “Where are they?!” His voice rang out over the battlefield, which was really just a small area of the woods. He wanted to use his elemental abilities, but something deep inside told him not to.

You hadn’t replied, only with a laugh that was sarcastic, and a shake of your head. Why did that laugh sound so familiair...It couldn’t be! Could it...? He didn’t have time to make up his mind, as his opponent missed a defence, and his claymore slit across their chest, shredding the armour and cutting deep, just barely missing any vital organs. A crack could be heard and you were sure something was shattered. The necklace could also be seen, and it loosely hanged as you brought your hands up to cover the injury, and stop the bleeding. As the blade had hit, your scream ripped through the area. You were sobbing, and in agony. It felt like you were dying, and perhaps..maybe you were.

Diluc’s eyes narrowed, noticing the necklace. “I’ll ask one last time. Where. Is. (Name)? You have their necklace, you’ve encountered them.” His voice was cold, and his blade was still ready. His elemental burst was also ready, he wasn’t taking any chances. “I won’t hesitate to kill you if you lie, or stay silent.” He approached closer, lowering the blade to your neck. You stared at him through the mask, before your hand shot up and ripped it off. “Me! Damnit Diluc, it’s me..” You sobbed out again, grasping the wound with both hands again.

Diluc stared. The claymore still held in his hands, before he tossed it to the side. “(Name)...I..I’m sorry..Were you forced to do this?! When did they take you..?” His voice was cracking, and all his self-respect and tough act disappeared. “They didn’t..I joined them.” You confessed, still staring into his eyes.

“Why would you-“ He almost yelled, before you yelled in return. “Because of you! I was sick of being treated like shit, and being ignored. Y-You would work and work and completely ignore me! I was sick of it.” He was silent, staring, and blinking. He couldn’t be mad at you, this was his fault. “And then when you decided to leave for an entire month, then shove me off like I meant nothing?! I was fucking done.”

Diluc dropped down next to you, he knew he didn’t have enough time to get you back to Monstadt, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He picked you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest. He wasn’t upset at you, he couldn’t be. He caused this. He was at fault. He didn’t know why you would put yourself in such danger, just to get back to him. “Please..hold on. I swear I’ll-“ You cut him off by bringing your hand to his cheek, wiping the blood and tears from his eyes. “Forgive me, Diluc, but it’s too late. Don’t be mad at yourself, I love you..” You coughed out, knowing your time was coming.

Your hand fell, and body grew cold. He froze. He couldn’t move, only holding you closer. He dropped to his knees, sobbing, and cursing himself. Muttering things of ‘this is my fault’ ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at them..’ and the like. He couldn’t believe this was reality, he didn’t want it to be. He couldn’t move. He was compeletely frozen. He knew he never said it enough, and it was too late now, but he said it anyway. “(Name)..I love you too.”

Diluc never did forgive himself. And he surounded himself with more work than before. He didn’t find love again, not after knowing he killed the person he considered the love of his life. The person he would be with forever.

~Bonus Ending that isn’t canon to this fic~

“Diluc...Diluc!” Your voice woke him up, he was out in the gardens and you were standing in front of him. He stared at you, you being uninjured and well, not dead. “Are you okay?! You were crying! Was it a nightmare?” You asked, sitting beside him. “I made you something as an apology. I should’ve let you take a break. Could you forgive me?” You passed the small treat over to him, and he took it, eyes never leaving you.

“Thank you, (Name). And I should apologise, how about I take the next month off? We can spend it together, how does that sound?” He offered, with a small smile. “That would be great! There’s this one super pretty area we could go to and..” He listened to your rambling, with this peaceful look. He would do anything to make sure that nightmare wasn’t a reality. “Let us go inside, shall we?” He calmly said, keeping his composure. You nodded with a smile. The two of you stood, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Oh, and (Name)?”

“Yes..?”

“I love you. A lot. And I never want to lose you.”

#diluc x reader #diluc #x reader #angst #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #blood #death #angst with no comfort

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whatusernamex3000 · 3 years

Text

So I know it's a niche ship but Komelle has always been a sweet little pairing I've loved since I watched voltron. I just wish they did more to further the two of them together (romantically or friendship idk just wanted more).

Anyways here's and unfinished fic from two years ago when I started writing. Just wanted to put more Komelle into the world.

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Keith was on a mission to reconnect with his estranged mom. Feeling rejected by his friends, he set off on a solo road trip across the country to meet her.

The last thing he imagined was that on the trip back, he would end up being happy for the first time in his life. All it took was his mom, a mutt, and a goofball hitchhiker.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Keith sat in silence with his newly found mother, Krolia, he learned her name was. When he set out to find her, he was at an all time low in his life. And at twenty one years old, that was saying a lot.

He'd made mistakes before, but he'd never meant to burn bridges. He never meant to throw away everything he had worked so hard to build. But things just didn't go his way. He had no idea what to do next, so he finally decided that he was going to set out to talk to his estranged mother.

The woman who had left him when he was born with just his father. The woman who didn't seek him out when his father died. The woman who didn't want him, didn't need him.

But he packed as much as he could into his rusty pickup truck and said enough with California, and drove to Portland, Maine where he discovered she lived.

After he mustered the courage to knock on the door, things went rather well from him. He was prepared to give her a piece of his mind and tell her off, but when the time came, he couldn't. Keith was just so happy to have found her. And she was nothing like the terrible monster he had created in his head. Krolia for all her faults and mistakes in her youth, was willing to be a part of his life. She wanted to find Keith after she found out his father died but she had heard too late and he was already with the Shiroganes.

While Keith wanted to say that it was no excuse, he couldn't imagine his life without growing up with Shiro and his family. They treated him as their own, and he considered himself a part of their family even if he knew it wasn't true.

The trip back was filled with awkward silence as the two tried to learn more about each other. He'd learned that his mother was a total badass, and a surprisingly great cook. She never married, or had other children, and all around was a great woman. While she couldn't get back the time she'd missed, she wanted him to know that from that point on, she was going to be there.

Somewhere around Indiana they hit a snafu. More specifically, Keith nearly hit a dog. The damn thing sprinted in front of his truck causing him to swerve out of the way and drive straight into a ditch. There they had to get it towed to replace the destroyed tire. Keith could've done it himself had the ruined tire not already been the spare.

Next door there was a local dive bar that Krolia suggested that they check out while they wait for the truck to be fixed. Leaving the shop Keith noticed the dog that had caused this fiasco sitting patiently as if it were waiting for them. "Go away you mutt!" He shouted but it had no effect on the dog. It sat patiently waiting for God knows what.

Forgetting about the dog, Keith followed his mother into the dive bar. Needless to say it was exactly what he expected. Loud drunken local hillbilly types, a bartender that was too pretty to be there, and a few out of place strangers. But one stood out among the rest.

A cute blonde who looked to nervous to be at a place like this. Krolia seemingly sensing Keith's wandering eyes chose to have them sit next to the pretty blonde girl. "Do you mind? These seats aren't taken are they?" She kindly asked the girl.

She shook her head. Krolia sat down and had Keith sit between her and the girl. "What would you like Keith?"

"Ummm a rum and coke," he replied. Krolia chuckled, "just like your father." But as soon as she said it, she realized how much of a mistake it was. They were far to soon in their relationship to talk about him. Keith excused himself for a minute leaving Krolia alone. She let out a large sigh, snagging the lonely girls attention.

"Is everything okay ma'am?" She kindly asked. She had a slight British accent if Krolia was placing it correctly. "No. I'm stuck with my estranged son who hates me. I haven't been part of his life in over twenty years, and now I am. And it's a bit much. For both of us."

"But you're trying right?"

Krolia let out another sigh, "I'm trying harder at this than anything I've ever tried before. But I don't think it's going to be enough."

"Well I think it should be. You have motherly eyes," the girl pointed out and offered Krolia a kind and friendly smile.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. I'm sure that the last thing you wanted was for some stranger to confide in you. Especially something like this," Krolia laughed a bit.

"Nonsense, I asked you. I'm Romelle," the girl said offering her hand.

"Krolia."

"So Krolia why are you and your son here in the middle of Indiana?"

Krolia filled her in on her and Keith's story. From meeting in Portland, Maine, to hitting the ditch just a few miles down the road.

"It was Kosmo," Romelle said. Krolia looked at her with a confused look. "What's cosmic?"

"No the dog that ran in front of your truck. His name is Kosmo. He's like the towns friendly neighborhood dog. He doesn't have an owner," she explained. By this point, Romelle had taken Keith's seat and drink, due to Krolia's offer.

"He was probably trying to chase a rabbit," she explained, polishing off the last of Keith's rum and coke. "And he was probably trying to apologize to your son when you saw him outside."

"Speaking of Keith," Krolia swiveled in there seat to survey the rest of the bar. "I don't see him."

Krolia paid for the drinks and her and Romelle walked towards the exit in search of Keith.

Much to their surprise, Keith was playing fetch with Kosmo. "Would you look at that," Krolia teased. "I thought you didn't like that mutt."

Keith smiled as Kosmo returned with the stick. Keith bent down to pet his face. "He's a mutt alright. Half amazing, half terrific."

"Parks n Rec," Romelle shouted. "I love that show."

Keith awkwardly smiled at her. "Uhhh hi. I'm Keith."

"Oh I know all about you," Romelle playfully teased. Keith's face started to turn red, thankfully, Krolia stepped in.

"Actually Keith, I was about to buy Romelle here a drink for listening to me ramble on about you. But why don't you do that while I talk to the mechanic." She gave her newfound son a smile and surprisingly he returned it.

"Uhhh yeah sure." He responded as Krolia walked towards him to give him some money. "Play nice, she seems like a sweet girl," she whispered as she handed him the money.

Keith and Rlomelle sat there awkwardly sipping on their respective drinks. A rum and Coke for him, and a vodka cranberry for her. It wasn't the fanciest of bars, but the pretty bartender definitely did make killer drinks. "You're mom's nice," Romelle finally said, breaking the silence between them. He couldn't help but notice her misplaced accent. Certainly foreign.

He awkwardly laughed, "you probably know her better than I do at this point."

"Because you met her a few days ago yeah?"

Keith nearly choked on his own drink. He looked over and saw her with a concerned look in her eyes. "I'm so sorry. It's just that she told me, and i… I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's okay. It's just… I don't actually know what I'm doing," he said, offering her a reassuring smile. He ordered them both another round, Indiana had very cheap alcohol compared to California. Once the bartender returned with their drinks, he turned his attention back to Romelle. This time he took all of her in. She had beautiful blonde hair that she kept neat and straight with pigtails but not really pigtails, if Keith knew anything about hair other than to wash and occasionally comb it, he would've been able to pinpoint her hair style. But regardless of what style it actually was, he thought she looked beautiful with it. It flowed all the way down to her just above her waist, but it was hard to tell while she was sitting. And while her blonde hair was eye catching, it was the piercing violet eyes that pulled him in. She was truly beautiful.

"I just feel like I should forgive her," he continued once he found his voice again. He was nervous that he may never be able to speak properly in front of her again now that he noticed just how stunning she looked. "But I don't know if I should. She had a chance to find me, but thought it was best to leave me with the family that took me in… that I wasn't good enough." He finished in a whisper, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

Normally he would've called up Allura by this point, telling her everything. If he were still back home in California, he would've driven to Acxa's. She was never one for sharing heart to hearts, but hanging out with her always put his mind at ease. With her, he was able to forget temporarily and just be himself. Hell, he would've called Lance or any of his friends by now, but in typical Keith fashion he blew up at all of them and promptly left the next morning without a word. Some time during the night he mistakenly and drunkenly blocked and deleted all of their contacts, the only thing that kept him in touch with them. He didn't have snapchat, or twitter, or even Instagram. That was all of them. He preferred things the old fashioned way, face to face. That didn't mean he wasn't on Instagram. All his friends had decided to create a hashtag for him under #keithkogane. He loved and missed his friends, but they weren't here. And yet somehow here, in the middle of nowhere Indiana, in some rundown bar, he found himself pouring his soul out to a beautiful girl he just met.

Romelle wasn't too sure what to say. Keith looked completely devastated, and she refused to believe that this man she just met was anything but good enough. Suddenly, the dj started playing a song she's recently started listening to religiously, and an idea came to mind. "I love this song let's dance," she grabbed his arm, not allowing him to say no.

"I don't dance," Keith tried to refute, but the look in Romelle's eyes told him that he was going to lose this fight ten out of ten times. The first few songs weren't that bad, considering they were a variation of country music. Romelle tried to teach him to two step, but in the end he proved that he doesn't dance because he can't. But still, Keith was thoroughly enjoying himself; watching the way Romelle moved with the rhythm, the way she laughed as she was spun around. It wasn't until the latest song had ended that they found themselves back in each other's arms. His smile was much more genuine than when they started. Suddenly the lights dimmed and the beat slowed. (A/N Golden Hour - Kasey Musgraves)

"Surely you can slow dance?" She teased, giving him an out if he wanted. He hadn't slow danced since the senior prom with his date Acxa, and he was so awkward (thankfully, Acxa was just as awkward) that he swore off slow dancing forever. But now, not slow dancing with Romelle was just about the last thing he wanted. Dancing the past hour or so had completely taken his mind off of his situation. For the first time since he left his friends a week and a half ago, he was having fun. And it was all because of her.

Keith pulled Romelle close and they slowly swayed to the soothing beat. Her head rested on his chest as they kept swaying. "I know what you did… And thank you," he whispered into her ear.

"For what?" Romelle asked, obviously playing dumb.

He did his best not to laugh. "The dancing. It's helped. I really appreciate it. You didn't have to do this for a stranger."

"How about a friend?"

Keith didn't respond, instead just closed his eyes and let the music take over. Something about this felt right, and if he wasn't stuck here, he would've been willing to explore this feeling further. "Thirsty?" He heard her ask, and he opened his eyes to look down at her and just stared into her eyes, getting lost in their reflection. It was right then and there that Keith wished more than anything that this was just a dream. If it was, he wouldn't have to leave her so soon.

"That'd be great."

Two more drinks later, courtesy of the bartender who liked Romelle's "sunshiney attitude", Keith finally decided that despite knowing that he would most likely never see this girl again, he wanted to enjoy his time with her. Not wallow in self pity due to their limited time. "So tell me about yourself?"

"What do you want to know?" She asked between sips of her apple Martini.

"What brings you here?" It was the wrong question, he realized too late. The pain in her eyes told him all he needed to know. She was running from something. "I… sorry. You don't need to talk about it."

She smiled, sliding her hand over his. "Thank you."

"So where are you going?" Based on her face, this was a difficult question as well, but not for the reason he thought.

She sighed, "I don't know. I've just been drifting from place to place. But I've been here for about three weeks. I don't know why but something was keeping here and honestly I wasn't sure what it was… until today."

It took Keith by surprise, and he almost pulled his hand away. Instead he switched so his hand rest on top of hers and he gave it a squeeze. "I hope you're right."

Krolia reappeared to a sight that made her smile. He saw the look the two young adults were sharing… comfort and hope. It as perfect picture, in fact she took out her phone and took one. She had decided that she was going to catalog their entire journey back with Keith. She wasn't sure if her son had Instagram, so instead she just used a simple hashtag with his name. And to her surprise, she wasn't the only one that had used that tag. Suddenly she was staring at hundreds of images of her son with his friends. It made her heart melt that despite all his struggles, there were people that cared about him. The most tags came from two girls named Allura and Acxa, and a man named Takashi. Clearly these were three of his closest friends, and she hoped that she could meet them.

She stared at the photo she just took and debated on whether or not to add it to the four other photos she had posted under the hashtag. But she decided against it, this was a private moment between the two of them.

Feeling eyes on them, they snapped out of their reverie and turned to look at who was staring. Keith had forgotten that his mom was even with him, and all of a sudden all his feelings came pouring back in. But seeing the look on her face made them slowly vanish. She was smiling… his mom was smiling at him.

Maybe it was the alcohol finally taking effect, but he swore that he had never been more at peace.

#vld komelle #komelle #keith x romelle #their cute and i love them #can be read as platonic or romantic

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allmights-right-boob · 3 years

Text

Not fic: Cursed Twilight addition

So I’m about to have my BNHA rights revoked but I just finished Midnight Sun (at the time when I started writing this) and started thinking about the characters and that Rosalie and Bakugo are weirdly similar so now here I am outlining a Twilight Au that no one asked for (except me but I’m garbage) that I will never write because I can’t focus long enough to write an actual story (fun fact this outline is taking months to complete). To be honest though this is more of a background on all the characters as opposed to an outline of the Twilight story (oops) which may or may not come later. Author’s notes are in parenthesis if you haven’t figured that out.

Basically I’m replacing Twilight characters with BNHA characters, not everyone will have the same back story, it’ll be blended(future me: um so that was a lie). Everyone’s quirks are still mostly the same but as their vampire gift with some variation to fit the word. It still takes place in the Pacific north-west because I’m not super sure if there’s a place as cloudy as there in Japan besides the mountains like Mt.Fuji (but that’s more misty I think) but there’s too many people around places like that I feel. But then again I’m not actually writing this whole fic so you’re welcome to imagine them still in Japan. If I did write this as a fic I would actually do proper research to decide where to put them but meh, this is a not-fic. As it is I’m calling the town it would take place in Forks/Crossroads cause that would be a cool alternative name. The backgrounds take place all over the word but I never actually say where. My bad.

Also if you do read this I love you very much and I am so sorry, this is ramble-y and has way too many run-on sentences and is written as if I were speaking to you as opposed to an actual written story. It’s also taken so long to complete things I wasn’t sure about in the beginning become solidified later but it’s also written out of order so probably reads really bad. Again my apologies.

So the characters are as follows:

The Olympic Coven/Cullens - The Might Coven/Aizawa-Yagis

Carlisle Cullen- Toshinori Yagi

So obviously I made Toshi Carlisle because suave blond everyone loves is both of their MO. Toshi is probably around 500 years old and like Carlisle was turned while hunting vampires. I still want him to have two forms but I’m not entirely sure how to do that within the confines of the Twilight universe. Maybe he was injured in a battle where he literally lost parts of himself and can’t fully heal so he’s become weak but still can’t die? He’s a doctor but might be semi-retired because of his injury, the cover story is an undisclosed chronic illness. He’s also a part time stay at home dad. He definitely used his vampirism to help and protect humans in the past.

Probably had a coven when he was younger with Nana and Torino but Nana was killed and Torino sent Toshi away for his own safety. He may or may not have started out as vegetarian, I can see Nana as veg or only eats bad people, Torino is an eats bad guys type but will eat anyone when pressed. Toshi either started out as a vegetarian before meeting Nana or if she found him immediately and took him in he would go animal based pretty quickly, She always respected his lifestyle. Grand Torino respects it to an extent but now that Toshi is hurt wants him to drink from humans because he thinks it’ll help Toshinori heal or at least be better for his body. He was in his 40s when turned.

Esme Cullen- Shouta Aizawa

It should surprise literally no one that I’m making this Erasermight because I am soft for my boys and anything is an excuse to ship them. Shouta is honestly the person who has taken the longest to work out along with Shinsou. Like so, so, long. These two are also related, they’re cousins or uncle/nephew or something. They’re also the most different from their counterparts, probably because it’s taken so long for me to work their stories out I’ve just completely changed them from original Twilight.

So the time period is really vague with him, it’s either the late 1800s or WWI. Hitoshi was an orphan around the age of 12 and Shouta his guardian is 30-31. Either way there was a war (and I looked at the wars in the second half of the 1800s, it’s just so many wars. What is wrong with this world?) and it could have easily been the civil war (and if so they were Unionist, obviously.) But wherever he and Hitoshi lived there was a war happening and he was probably not in the army at the time, just protecting his home and neighbors. At the same time Toshinori and Izuku were in the area trying to help civilians because wars suck and they’re basically un-killable so they can help and with the chaos of everything if someone started to suspect something of them they could fake their deaths and leave. And they probably did. But while traveling through they stop in a town/village and meet Shouta and Hitoshi.

Shouta is his gruff no nonsense self and Hitoshi is a little in awe of Yagi because this is still pre-injury so he’s this huge imposing man who’s gentle and knowledgeable about medicine. Eventually even Shouta comes around to liking Yagi, who has the nickname All Might because of his strength, even though he thinks his over the top enthusiasm in front of others is exhausting. In private Toshi ends up letting his guard and persona down with Aizawa because he realizes he doesn’t have to keep it up, he doesn’t need to make Aizawa like and trust him the way he does with the others, it’s just natural the way they click. Toshi probably fell in love first, vampires fall in love fast and long and all encompassing in a way that if they were human would be rather unhealthy (and probably is anyway because this is fiction but I don’t really care because this is fiction and I relate to unhealthy love way too much). Shouta was more reserved because he is a cautious man by nature and probably loves in a similar but more healthy way to vampires, long and devoted, but he must be careful to whom he gives his heart. I still don’t think he meant to fall for Toshinori, loving a man in the time that they lived was dangerous and inadvisable if one could avoid it. But Toshinori Yagi is the kind of man one cannot help but loving.

They didn’t tell each other how they felt though. A few months after Izuku and Toshinori’s arrival there was an attack on the town, Hitoshi they found safe but Toshinori caught wind of Shouta’s scent and followed, finding him mortally wounded. Desperate to keep him Toshi turned him and split off from Izuku and Hitoshi while Shouta adjusted to vampire life. They quickly became lovers, though Shouta had a brief stint as a human blood drinker as revenge for the destruction of his village. But it started to test their relationship and in the end Toshi and his own morals were more important to him than human blood. The four of them reunite a year later and they try to keep their relationship a secret but both of the boys figure it out pretty quickly. Izuku accepts it immediately because his dad is finally with someone and is happy while it takes Hitoshi a bit of time because period typical homophobia and it’s going to take a while for Yagi to earn his trust back after turning Aizawa in front of him.

Aizawa has an erasure power same as in canon. Since he doesn’t need to blink he’s a bit op but opponents who are faster than his eyes can track and multiple opponents are his weaknesses. He’s a history teacher at Forks/Crossroads high but purposefully does not have his own kids as students. He’s a mystery to most of his colleagues who probably haven’t even figured out he’s got five kids in the school.

Rosalie Hale- Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo has a pretty similar start to Rosalie but because what happened to her is so awful and I have problems doing that even to fictional characters that part is different. He’s still a rich kid from the early 20th century, probably turned in the 1920s, but he and his explosive temperament pissed off the wrong people who jumped him in an alley and beat him almost to death, like actually thought he was dead so they left him there (I know this isn’t that much better than what happened to Rose but man she had a horrific end to her human life). He was around 17-18 when he was turned.

While human he had met Dr. Yagi, who was probably treating one of his parents for a chronic ailment, along with his son Izuku and his ‘companion’ Aizawa and Aizawa’s ward Hitoshi. All of the others gave him the creeps but Izuku was a relatively normal boy, a bit younger than himself and accompanied his father when visiting the Bakugos. Their relationship is pretty much the same as canon where Izuku likes Bakugo a lot and Bakugo is nothing but awful to him. They end up with a sort of ‘I hate you but you’re my best friend’ relationship except neither actually hates the other. When Yagi finds Bakugo half dead in an alley he turns him because he was weirdly fond of the angry young man and more so because he thought that the relationship between the two boys was growing into something more, he and Izuku hadn’t talked about it, as he was waiting for his son to come to him, and he didn’t have time to ask. He realizes later that no, Katsuki and Izuku are not star crossed lovers like he and Shouta but he can’t say he regrets turning Bakugo other than Bakugo’s own hatred of being a vampire. He loves his angry son okay.

Bakugo had a life goal which was probably taking over the family business though based off canon that would be fashion and I can’t see him interested in that. Whatever it was he was pursuing it with the same single mindedness that he possesses for heroism and since he can no longer achieve his goals as a vampire he resents it along with the fact that the decision to become a vampire or die a human was taken away from him. He does have a good relationship with Toshinori and Shouta even though he still acts like a brat. His cover story is that he’s Toshinori’s cousin’s son and is an orphan who they took in. He kept his family’s name.

Like a number of vampires Bakugo has a talent or gift. His is his incredibly powerful and dangerous explosion ability. He can cause explosions from his palms. So far the League has not discovered him but everyone worries that one day they will and the Might Coven will be hunted and slaughtered for Bakugo’s power.

Emmett Cullen- Eijirou Kirishima

Sometime around the 1930s Bakugo was hunting and found a bleeding almost dead Kirishima. It was either an animal attack like canon or an accident where he fell off a cliff (that feels like something he would do). I don’t think he decided to turn Kirishima, he just smelled blood and lost control. He’s still ashamed about how he reacted to this day as he’s typically better than that around humans. Luckily the others were hunting with him and were able to pull Bakugo off. He’s never held what Bakugo did against him and his enthusiasm and friendship actually endeared him to Katsuki despite his guilt. Eijirou was turned at 19 and has never had issues with being a vampire, it sucks that he had to leave his human family behind but he loves his vampire one just as much and he got the love of his life out of it. It took awhile but Katsuki and Eijirou eventually admit their feelings and they start dating. They’ve been married a few times now because Bakugo is extra and Eijirou loves confessing his love.

With Kirishima’s gift it doesn’t work the same as in cannon where you can tell it’s activated. In fact they still might not know Kiri has a gift or if they do it’s only a suspicion. He’s just harder than the other marble like vampires. Where the others have almost certainly had mild injuries (mostly from Bakugo’s explosions) like cracks that heal immediately, Eijirou has never been injured as a vampire. At all. He’s also immensely strong, because he was as a human, and that has been enhanced but he’s nowhere near as strong as Toshi was pre-injury. His cover story is he’s a foster kid they took in and he keeps the last name Kirishima.

Alice Cullen- Denki Kaminari

Like Alice Denki spent the end of his human life in an insane asylum (I refer to it as such because these were not hospitals and more like institutions of torture). I honestly can’t figure out if mental health care was so bad in the early/mid 20th century that a 15-16 year old boy with ADHD being sent to one is unrealistic or not. I’m pretty sure it was similar to Alice where he saw something he shouldn’t and was put in it to silence him.( I should probably figure out what that was sometime) Either way that’s where he ended up and of course he had to deal with electroshock ‘therapy’ which both severely messed with his memory and sorta brought out a natural resistance and even control over electricity, so he had to receive stronger and stronger sessions. This manifested in Denki’s electric power when he was turned into a vampire.

While hunting in the woods surrounding the institution, Hitoshi spotted Denki in the window and was instantly taken by the boy with eyes as golden as his inhuman family’s. He would make trips by the asylum just to get a glimpse and eventually took a night job there to meet him against his family’s advice. When they met Denki recognized him despite how careful, and honestly far away, Hitsohi had been and instead of being creeped out he was happy just to make a new friend. They would talk as long as they could and Hitoshi would bring Denki little bits of the outside world like flowers or decent snacks. And he would take care of Kaminari when his ‘therapies’ would leave him incapacitated and the nursing staff would neglect him.

Even after his family moved away to a location where the weather suited them better Hitoshi stayed working at the asylum not willing to leave Denki to his fate there (And to note this is around the time the others realized how serious Hitoshi’s feelings are and start planning how to help Kaminari or bring him into the family. Before this they were starting to suspect but kinda thought he was being weird about a guy he saw in a window. To be fair though he was being weird about a guy he saw in a window.) One night after an ice bath ‘treatment’ Denki developed a fever and over the course of a few days had full blown pneumonia. In his delirium he confessed his feelings to Shinsou who reciprocated and decided he would steal Denki away when he knew the trip back to his family wouldn’t kill the sick boy. Of course being a poorly run and over populated institution his condition was overlooked and ignored especially since a ‘specialist’ was coming to perform procedures on several patients, aka some guy with no degree was going to lobotomize as many people as he could fit into one day. Shinsou didn't find out until he came in that night and found out Kaminari was already in the procedure room. He flipped out and killed most of the staff there and took a severely injured Denki home to Toshinori in the hopes of saving him.

The change seemed to take longer than it had for the others but does end up working, though when he finally comes to Denki is much more quiet and subdued and remembers almost nothing about his past. All he knows is his name, Hitoshi’s name, and that he loves him. He also has weird headaches periodically for decades later and slowly becomes more like himself before the lobotomy. He never fully recovers his memories, a bit here and a piece there, all moments shared with Hitoshi. He decides he doesn’t need the rest, everything he needs is here and in his future with his family.

His cover story is typically as a foster kid so he keeps his last name Kaminari. Sometimes he decides to change things up and goes as a Yagi or even Bakugo’s brother when Katsuki is feeling generous.

Jasper Hale- Hitoshi Shinsou

Hitoshi’s early years were spent in his small town or village (I think the difference is size but I’m american and I don’t think we have villages no matter how small a place is so...) Everything was uneventful up until the war, I don’t know which war, civil war in US or WWI in Europe, but around the age of 12 his village was destroyed, his guardian was turned into a vampire and he had to go live with Izuku while Aizawa learned to manage his bloodlust. During that time he and Izuku grew really close and even now they have the most brotherly relationship out of all the siblings.

So after a year the four reunite with a vampire Shouta and an overly protective Izuku and a very weary Hitoshi. Everything goes on as it did for Toshinori and Izuku before they split but now with their two new additions. Yagi gives Hitoshi the best education he can without sending him to boarding school although they had discussed it. They were in a precarious position with a human boy knowing their vampire secret and they couldn’t run the risk of news getting back to the League, the governing body of vampires run by a mysterious head known only as All for One.

Years pass but unfortunately news of the Might Coven’s human pet gets back to the League and due to past history involving Nana and Toshi, AfO comes himself to deal with the situation and brings his two most powerful underlings, his adopted son and second in command Tomura Shigaraki and . A fight between Yagi and All for One happens and AfO rips out a piece of Toshi’s side and Toshi ends up crushing AfO’s head, killing him (maybe but probably not). Tomura, who had been fighting against Shouta and Toga who battled Izuku, realize they can’t win.

Now the vampire known as All Might is pretty popular amongst his kind but the Might Coven was at the time nowhere near strong enough or influential enough to fill the void that would be left by the dissolution of the League, which would happen if they killed all three of the vampires there. So they took a gamble and spared Shigaraki and Toga thinking their loyalty to AfO was limited, since most vampires don’t form bonds the way ‘vegetarians’ seem to, and that they would be happy with their promotion. They also agreed at Hitoshi’s insistence that he would be turned so they would no longer have a human knowing the secret about vampires. So Yagi turns Hitoshi and they let Toga and Shigaraki go and continue about their lives as much as they can with Toshinori’s injury.

Just like the rest of his family, Shinsou's quirk is the same as canon. If someone answers his question he can control their minds. It’s probably a little stronger than in canon too, at least against humans. Vampires have better resistance. His cover story is the most truthful, he’s Shouta’s orphan relative. He sometimes takes on Aizawa’s last name though in this school he decided to use his original.

Edward Cullen- Izuku Midoriya

The more I plot this out the more I’m taking Twilight, stripping it down to the bare outline, and making it into something totally different. Like the only similarities are Izuku and Shoto’s relationship follows Bella and Edwards, somewhat. Izuku is the tanned skinned, freckled, green eyed boy in a family of pale golden eyed outsiders. He seems completely human even to other vampires, til you get him in the sunlight where he literally shines.

I’m not sure when Izuku was born, maybe the 1700s, but he was still the first of the Might Coven besides Toshinori. Sometime after Nana’s death Toshi finds an ailing pregnant woman named Inko Midoriya who’s bizarre husband still hasn’t come home from his business trip to a foreign country. She’s convinced she is going to die before he returns and her pregnancy is so hard and so seemingly fast but her baby feels strong enough to survive so she begs Toshinori to please take care of her son till his father returns. Inko dies before she can give birth to her baby so Toshinori takes the baby out himself as a last ditch effort but there’s something not right, not with the baby or the amniotic sac that’s almost as hard as Toshinori himself. And when the sun shines through the window Toshinori’s arm glimmers and so does the new born baby. Dread at the thought that he’s holding an immortal child wells in him but he’s never heard of an immortal child being born and he’s especially never heard of a vampire with a heart beat. So against his better judgement he takes the child and runs, he can’t wait for Inko’s husband, and he can’t risk someone seeing the child and reporting back to the League. So he and Izuku, a name Inko had picked out before her death, stay on the run for years as the boy grew until he was at an appropriate age to be around at least vampire kind. Conveniently the half vampire boy doesn’t need blood to survive and seems to have very little if any bloodlust at all. Or so it seemed.

Now some differences I’m making will be Izuku’s aging. I know Rennesme ages fast and stops when she looks 21-25 but I’m thinking Izuku either ages very slowly or stopped when he looks closer to 15-18? Probably the first one. Also I think male half-vamps have red/gold eyes but Izuku has green because I said so.

His cover story is that he's Toshinori’s son from a previous relationship. They tried to call him a foster child in the past but they’re too close and Izuku uses Toshinori’s given name and dad interchangeably. He likes to use his mom’s last name as a way to honor her. Not every school but it is a pretty common thing for him to do and he’s using it in Forks/Crossroads this year. He doesn’t seem to have a gift but he’s a half vampire, his presence is a gift.

Humans

Bella Swan- Shoto Todoroki

Time for ‘technically main character number two but I preferred everyone else in Twilight over Edward and Bella so he and Izuku get put down lower on the list’. So Todoroki and Bella’s similarities are: new kid comes to live with other parent after the parent they lived with got married. I really don’t think there’s a lot else similar? But Bella doesn’t have that much back story to begin with.

So Shoto’s parents grew up in Forks/Crossroads but moved somewhere sunnier before he was born. He grew up in a city, maybe Phoenix (almost certainly Phoenix for the name alone). His parents had an unhappy marriage but I honestly don’t think it was full on abuse, I feel like Enji still neglected them but never physically or verbally hurt anyone. And since Shoto moves back in with Rei I don’t think she gave him his scar either, I think it was an accident where young Shoto pulled maybe a hot kettle onto himself? It probably was the catalyst for his parents divorce but ultimately that was happening either way. Both parents blamed the other for his accident but I think the courts realized it was just that, an accident, maybe some negligence (I don’t really know how custody courts work and what happens when a kid gets hurt and this isn’t a real fic so I’m not researching) but either way Enji gets Shoto (maybe all the kids but Rei gets visitation, comes down for the summer like Charlie? Kids go up there for vacation and holiday? Or split the kids 50/50? No idea this is still more backstory than Bella got) Enji is still a workaholic and Toya ends up running away/leaving probably shortly after the divorce anyway and Fuyumi and Natsuo eventually leave for college and are still closer to Rei even if they lived with their dad.

So when Enji gets remarried Shoto asks to move in with his mom since she’s all alone and Enji wouldn’t be and ‘wouldn’t it be nice to just be two newly weds with the house to themselves’. He makes a very convincing case and Enji is trying to let his youngest make his own choices so he agrees. Shoto moves north and it isn’t the worst, he likes both the heat and the cold unlike his parents, Rei hates the heat and Enji hates the cold. School is weird because people actually want to be his friend; there’s a group of stoic, pale, intimidating students he’s 90% sure are vampires; and there’s a beautiful boy who hangs out with them who looks partially horrified and disgusted by him, or like he wants to eat him alive, literally.

Renee Dwyer- Enji Todoroki (Technically)

So I ended up making Enji considerably less awful.

After the divorce Enji figures out his sexuality and eventually starts dating a much younger model who goes by Hawks after he saves him from a burning building (Enji is a firefighter). Shoto offers to move in with Rei after Hawks and Enji get married, he has nothing against Hawks and they get along as well as can be expected but they are newly weds and Enji might be going into semi retirement to travel with Hawks for his career. And the thought of being around his dad so much, who can get a little overbearing when not working, is just not something Shoto wants to deal with. Though it is weird his dad is married to someone so much younger, Shoto knows several other people in his class in Phoenix whose dads did similar and they cheated on their wives and didn’t even have a sexuality crisis in their forties so he’s letting his dad slide on this. Shoto definitely has a better relationship with Enji in this than canon Shoto but they don’t have Enji’s shity eugenics baggage here either. Overall Enji in this is just a neglectful workaholic who’s learning to work on himself with the guidance of the love of his life and is letting Shoto make his own decisions like living with his mom and this is all growth.

Charlie Swan- Rei Todoroki (Technically)

So Rei after the divorce moves back home because she hates Phoenix and hot weather. Maybe she gets custody in the summer or has Fuyumi and Natsuo since Toya took off and they split the kids? (I still haven’t decided how the custody went with those two but they don’t live in Forks/Crossroads or Phoenix so it doesn’t matter.)

After returning home she either started working at or opened up a yarn shop, I see her enjoying needle craft and she’s definitely not a sheriff type. She’s just a quiet, keeps to herself woman with a few close friends; children mostly grown and just happy to spend more time with her youngest.

Phil Dwyer- Keigo Takami

He’s a model who gets saved by Enji when his apartment burns down. He offers to take Enji to dinner and keeps offering to reward him until at Moe’s insistence Enji agrees. They hit it off and the rest is history.

Things I would have said in the tags but there’s a limit so I put the actual important stuff there and ramblings here:

It took me three weeks to finish this (midnight sun) audiobook. I literally drive for a living and couldn’t finish it in less than the entirety of my library rental time. Jake Able deserves more money.

I have read twilight three times now and it never gets easier. Yes I do have terrible taste.

I hope someone reads this. It took like three months to finish this post. I still have so much in my head. I haven’t even started talking about the League. Please ask questions, I want to actually write this but my brain won’t let me write full fics so this is what we get.

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wherearemyglassesbro · 3 years

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Omg omg omg omg everyone be quiet right now thank you @heyheyjay for THIS

For starters, it would absolutely have a very negative effect on Fran’s relationship with Arthur. He’s aware it’s irrational and his feelings are based on personal issues but having his rival/friend/lover defend a murderer? And have that murderer get away? Oh no, Fran would probably not talk to him for awhile after. Not because he’s mad AT Arthur, he just has to sort out his own feelings. He’s a complex guy and his feelings are like balls of colored yarn all tangled together. He has to take time to sort it all out and come to a conclusion. “I am not upset with you. I am upset with the outcome of that trial. I would like for us to go back to being friends again...If that’s alright...” he’s still closed off for awhile but eventually, he’ll open back up and go back to normal, the incident not forgotten but forgiven

The first two times Arthur saw Francis in a murder trial setting were VERY different. The first time, he was still somewhat of a rookie. He had gone up against Francis twice now in court and won both times. Now he wanted to study his way of speaking, his organization, his body language, that kind of stuff. So he sat in the crowd, off to the side out of the field of vison for the prosecutors booth.

Francis carried himself the same as usual. Confident and proud, speaking passionately on behalf of the victim, appealing to the jury. He did everything by the book and to be honest? Arthur was impressed. It was different watching him from the crowd than it was from the defense booth.

When Francis lost the trial, even Arthur was shocked. He watched him stiffly pack his papers away and leave the courtroom in a hurry. It was strange behavior for sure, something that he’d never seen before. Instead of his classic smile, he sported a frown and a look in his eyes that Arthur couldn’t place. To be nice, he caught up with him in the hallway “Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to but I want to let you know, you did fantastic in there. I don’t know how on earth you lost that-“ “Leave me alone, Kirkland” Francis all but shoved past him, making a beeline for his car. Arthur could hear the squeal of his tires from inside the courthouse

That was not the loud, extravagant Francis he knew. That was someone else, someone sad and angry...Maybe Francis was more complex than he thought (Spoiler alert: Yes. He is)

The second time he witnessed a loss, he was far closer with the Frenchman. He knew his mannerisms and his body language. The two were teetering on the edge of being in a relationship or just being super close friends. Francis didn’t want Arthur to go to this trial but he insisted “It’s my day off. I’ll come support you and we can go to lunch afterwards. No big deal. I like seeing you in court” Francis was reluctant but had him sit in the second row anyways for moral support

Again, he did everything right. Arthur was criticizing the defense in his head ‘you dolt, you’re talking too much. It’s giving Francis the upper hand’. Of course he wanted Francis to win. Even as a defense attorney himself, he knows a guilty face when he sees one. He’s once again shocked when Francis loses

This time he notices how his hands shake, clenching and unclenching. There’s tension in his shoulders, the mask of confidence gone from his face. He was fighting to suppress a frown, swallowing around the lump of guilt in his throat

Francis apologized to his clients when the court was released, hugging them and shaking their hands, promising paperwork in the mail....yadda yadda. Arthur noticed how tired he looked, the way his shoulders now sagged in defeat

“You did great out there love” “I don’t need your pity, Arthur” “I’m not pitying you. You did everything right” “Apparently not”

Arthur led him to the parking lot, cupping his cheeks when they were out of the public eye “I know how it feels to lose something big like this. It stings, I know. However, it isn’t the end of the world”

“‘It isn’t the end of the world’? Are you kidding me? You’ll never-! Forget it. I’m going home” “Francis? We were-“ “I don’t care about lunch” and with that, he got in his car and sped off, tires screeching once again

Arthur is invited over for dinner later on, Francis apologizes for the way he reacted and Arthur assures him that it was no big deal. He expresses his emotions differently than Arthur does and he is still getting used to it! And this is Francis’s first relationship since Jeanne so he’s still re-learning how to open up about more serious or intense feelings. There’s a learning curve for them both.

So I also I think I’m gonna talk about Jeanne again cause I WAS gonna have a single post dedicated to her effect on Fran and Art’s relationship but I think lll....Just go over it here. There is a small fic at the end but I can’t even really call it that, it’s 2 paragraphs of text lol so yeah :)

More under the cut cause this is getting long and I feel bad clogging your dashes :0

So Art knew about Jeanne before he really knew Francis personally. Before he goes up against prosecutors, he asks Eliza about them and their argument styles, stuff like that. She advised him to stay away from murder trials if Fran managed to get his hands on one and since he didn’t know about Jeanne he was like ‘pfftt what? You think I can’t take him?’ And she was like ‘No...He can’t take you’ oh...

Eliza told him like...The bare minimum. Francis’s girlfriend was killed behind a small party store and he was the one who discovered her body. That’s all he knew about it

But when he and Fran started to get serious relationship-wise Francis decided to sit him down to have a talk with him, pouring his heart out to him after a long, draining day at the courthouse:

// Uhhhh tw for the rest for death mention and description of finding Jeanne after her death. Like...blood and all so if that makes you uncomfortable: this is your warning :0 //

“We dated for five years. From eight grade to twelfth...It was like we were joined at the hip. We were always together wether it be baking in the kitchen, studying at the library, going to the movies or attending church camp. We did it all together. Hell...In highschool, we were voted ‘cutest couple’ every year. She was my date for every school dance and she would have been my prom date too if... If she had lived” Francis choked out a sad laugh “She had the most beautiful dress picked out and I had a suit to match. She was so excited about it...”

“That day was my nightmare. I relive that day over and over again in my dreams, thinking about everything I could have done to prevent that outcome. I should have taken her to the store earlier. I should have gone in with her. I shouldn’t have answered the phone and gotten distracted when my friend called. She was in there for forty minutes just to grab some streamers and a bag of candy for a piñata... When I went in to look for her she wasn’t there. I looked around, called her name, called her phone...no answer. The cashier helped me look too as I started getting worried. In the bathrooms, the stock room, the janitors closet, behind the refrigerators...All that was left was the rear exit. She didn’t go out there right? No...that was unlike her...” tears started to slowly make their way down his cheeks “When we pushed the door open, I remember seeing the pool of blood right there on the ground and thinking it was just a puddle. How wrong was I. My legs moved on their own, I rounded the corner and there she was. Her hair was covered in blood from the gash across her temple, her favorite floral blouse ripped and dirty. Her purse was gone. She was just laying there on the dirty, cold asphalt” Francis shook his head, rubbing his face as the memory replayed once more

“Out of the corner of our eyes, the cashier and I saw the perpetrator and he chased him down, catching him and sitting on him until the police arrived. I called them...I don’t even remember making the call but I distinctly remember them telling me not to touch her- not to mess with the ‘evidence’. I didn’t listen. I sat in the pool of blood and held her until the ambulance arrived, petting her hair as she slowly went cold in my arms...Praying that just maybe she’d make it. They were too late. I was too late.”

“What was it all for, you ask? That evil son of a bitch wanted her money. She only had $10 on her that day. He killed her over $10! And after all of my pain, her family’s suffering, that fucker got to walk free after two years? Two years! It isn’t fair at all. I don’t mean to ramble too much but before you and I become anything too serious I just- I need you to know about her. She made me who I am today, she’s the reason I practice law, she’s always here with me” he clutched his cross necklace in his shaky hand “Just because I still love her does not mean I love you any less, Arthur. I will always be here for you but at the same time, I will be there for her. I’ll still visit her grave and her parents...I’ll have her picture on the mantle...”

Arthur reached out to rest a hand on the blond’s arm. This was a new side of Francis he hadn’t seen before. Sure he knew about Jeanne by now, he had seen her picture in Francis’s apartment. He knew the other took the two hour trip up north to visit Jeanne’s grave and her family every other month. He knew she was important to him but he had never heard the full story like this before. He truly didn’t know the extent of the damage that day had done “I understand, dear. If Jeanne is important to you, she’s important to me. She’ll always have a place here with us” he assured, pulling Francis in to hug him against his chest to let him cry “I don’t think I can begin to express how badly I feel for you. But you can always confide in me, I’ll be here because I lo-like you a lot. I want you to be open with me. This...is a lot to bottle up” Francis nodded and wiped his eyes as Arthur brushed his curls out of his face “If it isn’t overstepping any boundaries, maybe I could come up north with you next time you go to visit her?”

“I...I think I’d like that. I’ve already told her and her family about you. I’m sure they’d love to meet you”

———

Well I hope that wasn’t bad! I haven’t written in a fic format in uhhh hehe a year or so so...yeah! Anyways! Yup! That’s all for now :) ❤️ thanks for reading this far if y’all did!!!!

((Looking back I hate the formatting of the ficlet thingy but tbh there’s not much I can do about it now :) ))

#lawyer au :)#aph england #aph france #Fruk #I feel bad putting this in the h/talia tags so uhhh....yeah #I only used those three for blog navigation so...sorry :)#anyway!!! this was a lot of fun!!#enjoy the word vomit ❤️😄

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xhanisai · 4 years

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Wo Ai Ni !

AO3 / FFN

Summary:

Plagg thought that having his holder moon and squeal about Ladybug this and Ladybug that was utter hell. . He should have realised from day one that it was absolutely nothing compared to his babbling adoration for the heroine's civilian identity and now, his waxing poetry for the raven haired girl as he finally shattered the whole 'She's just a friend' delusion and accepted his feelings for her.

A/N: I am sick and tired of all the work I've been doing for finals and honestly need my break. Anyways, here's a sweet, fluffy fic to get the stress out of my system and hopefully make your day a bit better :) The fic's title is inspired by Hitomi Takahashi's song: Wo Ai Ni (which most of you would find familiar as ending 14 for Gintama) Aaaand special thanks to @Word_Devourer for giving me the idea for the operation's name and thanks to @gale-of-the-nomads for giving me the push to write this~ Takes place after Party Crasher/ Trouble Fête, enjoy! ~(x)~ . . . Plagg thought that having his holder moon and squeal about Ladybug this and Ladybug that was utter hell. . He should have realised from day one that it was absolutely nothing compared to his babbling adoration for the heroine's civilian identity and now, his waxing poetry for the raven haired girl as he finally shattered the whole 'She's just a friend' delusion and accepted his feelings for her. Mm-hmm, there are no words in the french vocabulary that could even describe half the agony that Plagg's enduring right now, right this second as Adrien floated around in his room, hugging the gift that Marinette gave him earlier on at school with a disgustingly hopeless grin plastered on his stupid blushy face. 'Is it too late to go back to napping for a few more centuries or so? Cos I am way too old to be dealing with this fuckery again.' Plagg scowled, feline eyes almost like slits as he slouched on his pillow. He didn't even get a chance to take a bite out of his beloved Camembert! Why was he always the one stuck with the lovesick kittens again...? "-and our hands touched when she gave me the gloves! TOUCHED! I am never washing my hands again~" Adrien wiggled on the spot, nuzzling the soft present against his cheek and hungrily memorised the delectable vanilla scent that lingered on it. "Oh Plagg...did ya see the way she smiled at me? That soft, pretty, beautiful smile? Her lips so glossy and kissable AND mon dieu! I was tempted to just gather her up in my arms and kiss the living daylights out of her!" The blonde teen let out another high pitched squeal that sounded quite close to a kitten's meow and flopped on the bed, his weight causing Plagg and his pillow to bounce up and send the yowling kwami flying. Plagg. Had. ENOUGH. Darting towards the boy's face, fur sticking up making him look like a fuzzy ball, Plagg grabbed Adrien's collar and yelled. "CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP AND GO ASK HER OUT ALREADY!?" The force of the little God's voice caused Adrien's fringe to blow back comically, surprising the teen in which he merely blinked back like a kitten. After realising what he's done, an apology was quick to make way on Plagg's tongue for snapping like that only to disintegrate immediately when Adrien's reaction turned into one of a typical, shoujou, love struck schoolgirl. "I can't just ask Marinette out! She's too amazing...too cool...so awesome...oh man I love her so much! I have to get cooler and be at least half as wonderful as her before I could even dream of asking her out." Adrien was blind to Plagg rolling his eyes like it's the end of the world and kept on rambling, gloves pressed to his lips. "Besides, she doesn't even love me that way...she's always so jumpy around me..." Just as Plagg was about to scold him for being so self-deprecating and maybe give a boost of encouragement, Adrien suddenly shot up from the bed with his fists pumped up in newly found determination. "Which is why I should get better at wooing her! I'm gonna call the boys and come up with a plan to get Marinette to fall in love with me! It will be called: Operation Marry-Nette. What do you think?" Adrien looked genuinely proud of his plan like he's just won the lottery and Plagg couldn't help but sigh endearingly at him. Maybe for the last time, just for him, just for Adrien, Plagg will humour his holder through their terrible love schemes. Who knows? It could be quite entertaining and finally end this tiring love square that has lost its charm many months ago. "You were never this obsessed when you were claiming about how Ladybug and you were meant to be. Were your feelings not deep enough for her?" The kwami settled back on his pillow, stroking his wedge of cheese and glanced at Adrien through his peripheral vision who looked sheepish for a split second. "Don't get me wrong, I do love Ladybug still- but because she's my bestest friend and I admire her so much. It's just not as romantic anymore and a guy can only pursue for so long before it starts to grate on the pursued. I must have annoyed her quite a bit..." "Just a bit~?" "...okay a lot. I deserved all those bops to the head by her yo-yo and I already did apologise to her for being so obnoxious. Anyways, the point is that even though Ladybug is amazing...Marinette is Marinette. Marinette was always there for everyone, there for me. It's like my feelings have been building up for her throughout the whole time and my feelings for Ladybug was the dam. The dam's now broken and all my pent up love for Marinette is flooding all over the place...and I don't regret it one bit." Adrien hugged the gloves again with his standard, warm smile that the God always spotted when Marinette was nearby. "It wasn't easy, keeping those feelings away to avoid feeling guilty about loving another girl. Now, I don't have to worry about that. I can love Marinette all I want...if she wants to have me." Plagg rolled his eyes fondly this time, cuddling into the crook of the boy's shoulder with a fanged grin. He couldn't wait to see the delight and happiness when his chosen finds out that he's been in love with one girl all along and that his feelings were absolutely mutual. ~(x)~ "Oh! A-A-Adrien!?" "M-M-Marinette! You there- I mean hey there! Hahah...longtimenosee-" Not too far away, Alya and Nino watched the scene before them with exasperation as Marinette and Adrien started their daily stammering ritual for the umpteenth time. The model being the new addition. Sure, the first few times watching the two of them become a flustered mess when coming across one another was an entertaining prospect. Now it was absolutely painful seeing the two beloved idiots so stupidly in love with one another, blinding them from the fact that it's in fact requited. And what answers were they given when they attempted to convince said idiots that they should ask each other out? "Ah! Alya-aaa! You know I can't do that yet. Adrien still sees me as a friend so don't get my hopes up. But that doesn't mean operation secret garden is finished. I will get him to fall in love with me!" "Nino!? How many times do I have to tell you? Marinette's more interested in my clothes than in me! She's yet to fall for my suave, meow-tastic self~ Also, operation Marry-Nette is now a go-go. You, Agent Best Man have to make sure that the rose petals are ready as soon as she steps into the art room." Needless to say, Adrien's scheme failed catastrophically. So bad that not even the nerdy model took the opportunity to make a pun about it since they ended up jamming the large fans for a 'wind' effect with the rose petals and thus causing a fire. All the boys from the class ended up with a week's worth of detention much to their dismay and the girls' curiousities. Did Lahiffe even need to mention how Agreste begged for them to keep their shenanigans in helping him woo the girl he loves a secret? Despite the fact that the whole school pretty much caught on? So that's how the bespectacled couple felt like they've aged for like a decade or so thanks to their oblivious best friends who were still exchanging word soup and frazzled gestures. "-no no! You're beautiful- not that you're not beautiful everyday! Oh- erm- agh-" Adrien bit his tongue by reflex and shoved his hands inside the pockets of the designer hoodie he threw on this morning. His cheeks matched the Asian girl in front of him in a raspberry tinted flush. "YOU THANKS! I mean...thank you..." Marinette took a deep sigh before determination settled on her face. She gently clutched one of Adrien's sleeves, letting her dainty fingers brush against the back of his hand and smiled sweetly. "You're beautiful too," She flashed a toothy grin and then immediately speed walked away, leaving behind her gaping friends. A high pitched kettle like sound escaped from Adrien's throat and then he immediately shoved his hood over his head and used the drawstrings to fasten the hole in order to hide his discombobulated face. Alya and Nino carried on gaping as the usually cool model chanted 'Mon Dieu' over and over again, clutching his fabric covered face and wiggling on the spot. "Either things will get much more interesting or we're about to hit the peak of idiot one's and idiot two's stupidity." Alix quipped from the background, joined by a mutter of agreement from the other students. "Oh Marinette just hurry up and marry me already~" Adrien swooned, ignorant to the chuckling crowd as he was still stuck in his bubble. The bubble was mercilessly popped by Kubdel. "THEN GO PROPOSE TO HER ALREADY LOVER BOY!" This snapped Adrien out of his daze in an instant, prompting a feminine squeal from him and his body launching up in the air like a scaredy-cat. Heaving, he clutched Nino who was the closest to him and glared at the short girl before scoffing and scurrying away. His hand covered his face in embarrassment throughout the whole time as the students in the vicinity guffawed at him. Adrien decided that he was going to hide his face for eternity and avoid everyone who's not Nino. Representing the Gabriel brand be damned! ~(x)~ Adrien.Exe has stopped working. No, really. His soul pretty much abandoned his jelly like body and his brain has turned to mush. 'Adrien Agreste has unfortunately stopped working for the time being. Please leave a message after the meow.' Was the only comprehensible sentence that ran through the teen's mind. Marinette was sleeping on him. Sleeping on him! Again!!! Her soft, pretty, serene face hid in the crook of his neck, causing him to inhale the lingering bakery scent of vanilla and strawberries every time he dared to breathe. One of her hands latched onto the front of his shirt adorably, knuckles against his chest and Adrien could swear that the erratic beating of his heart would disturb her slumber. Yet, by some miracle he remained calm and cool on the outside despite his inner turmoil. Inhaling sharply, Adrien willed for his heart to calm down as he bravely rested a hand on the girl's waist before allowing his cheek to lean against Marinette's smooth, silky locks. He took this as an opportunity to study her up close. Marinette had her hair loose today. The long, petal thin strands fanned just below her shoulder and her fringe tickled his neck pleasantly. Her long lashes created a subtle, curved shadow on her cheek bones and had Adrien been an ordinary boy, he would have missed the expertly applied concealer below her eyes. She seemed to get more and more exhausted everyday. His poor princess... "I wish I could just hold you in my arms and keep you safe and happy forever..." He mumbled into her hair, placing his free hand on top of Marinette's which was still grasping his shirt and squeezed gently. Gathering what's remaining of his courage, Adrien puckered his lips and pecked her head, face flaming throughout the whole time. It lasted no more than a moment. Yet it was a moment that Adrien will cherish for the next few decades to come. CLICK. Reflex kicked in rapidly and by muscle memory, Adrien shielded Marinette's body with his, wrapping his arms around her and was quick to flash a dangerous glare at the intruder that dared to make an appearance. The sight of a cheeky Alya and the rest of the cooing girl group, all waving their phones and giggling on the spot drained his wrath and replaced it with shyness. "How much did you see!?" Adrien rasped, unconsciously holding Cheng closer to him, not realising that she was starting to stir. "All of it~ but don't worry Sunshine, we won't tell or show her a single thing." Alya winked slyly, wriggling her phone for emphasis. "It's just going to be in our collection for the amazing album we'll be showing you on yours and Mar's wedding day," Adrien stumbled on his words next, ears and cheeks redder than Nathaniel's hair before hiding his face in Marinette's locks as the girls snickered louder. Thoughts of Marinette in various wedding dresses, floating down the aisle with a loving smile on her face, slipping a ring on his finger as she recited her vows, leaning up as he leaned down to kiss her, all ricocheted within his mind without mercy. It was then that the boy noticed that Marinette was fidgeting in her sleep and panic started to settle in his body. "You evil people...you're waking her up." He hissed tiredly but without any venom and made soft shushing sounds to lull the designer back to sleep. The girls had other ideas however and without wasting a second, they made their moves in sonic speed. Juleka was the first to strike, lifting Marinette up bridal style whilst Rose firmly pushed Adrien back against the library's beanbag in a more comfortable way before the tall girl gently placed the snoozing girl on the boy's lap. Alix and Alya struck next, positioning Adrien's and Marinette's arms so that it looked like the former was cradling the girl protectively against him and the latter snuggling up to him with her arms around his neck. Throughout the whole time, Mylène recorded the entire endeavour with a happy hum. "You should have involved us in Operation Marry-Nette. Look how much more successful we were in a matter of minutes compared to the painful weeks you guys went through with your schemes. I still can't believe that one of them involved you acting out a stunt in order to impress her only for you to fail terribly and bruise your ribs. You should never listen to Kim." The chubby girl smiled, grin only widening as Adrien's blush deepened when Marinette cuddled closer to him in her sleep. The raven haired girl's lips were brushing against his collarbones. It took everything for him to not combust. "Nino blabbed didn't he?" The blonde teen accused. "My babe is terrible at keeping anything from me, boo. But to be fair, it was super obvious from the start. Don't be mad at us~?" Alya pressed her phone against her lips, batting her eyes cutely, prompting the boy to roll his eyes and look away but the way he squeezed Marinette closer to him didn't go unseen. "...m'kay...just send me the pics afterwards please?" Adrien's question was answered with a cheer from the girls. . Nino on the other hand was chased around the school by Adrien with his sabre for ratting out the plans to Alya. "Bro! I'm sorry! PLEASE STOP TRYING TO STAB ME- SOMEONE HELP!" "You broke the bro-code Lahiffe! Now you must suffer the consequences!" "BRO!!??!!" ~(x)~ "...Are you okay Chat Noir?" As soon as Marinette placed a tentative hand on the hero's shoulder, he leapt up as high as his namesakes before quickly composing himself with an awkward laugh. "Kine...I MEAN- FINE! I'm fine...hahah..." Chat's faux ears plastered themselves against his unruly locks as he gripped his tail in front of him with both hands. He internally thanked the Gods (more reliable than Plagg at the very least) that his hair was covering his human ears otherwise Mari would have seen that they were as red as Ladybug's suit. The heroine in disguise raised a brow in worry, lips pursed with confusion. The silly boy has been acting very odd for the past few months. In fact his behaviour right now was starting to resemble a certain blonde sweetheart in her class- 'No! Snap out of it Marinette. Don't start comparing them both again!' The girl warned herself in her mind, shooting down the blush that tried to fight its way to her cheeks and then plastered on a polite smile. "Thank you for saving me and sorry for being in the way. I was trying to get away from the akuma, honest." Marinette fibbed, hoping that her partner would simply tease her with a few puns before vaulting away. Instead, the black cat stammered incoherently. "Oh hahah! N-N-No! You weren't in the way. You can never be in the way, it's never too much of a big deal- NOT THAT I'M SAYING YOU'RE NOT A BIG DEAL! You are one heck of a deal haha- oh the akuma is going that way. Stay safe pretty girl whose name I don't know- IMEANGOODBYE! ADIOS! Gahhhhhh..." Snapping his jaw shut, Chat Noir zoomed away with his staff in hand, hitting himself on the head repeatedly as he muttered 'Stupide!' over and over again. Marinette was left blinking owlishly at the boy's strange antics. The familiar feelings that has been gnawing on her mind for the past half year or so simply grew, causing her to nibble on the tip of her thumb. Yet, she couldn't identify what it was for the life of her and it was driving her insane. "Tikki, first Adrien has started to act like me when I'm around. Now Chat Noir? Have I done something to offend them both?" Marinette pouted at her kwami cutely which elicited a giggle from the tiny Goddess. "Oh no, no no no. I think they've fallen for you Marinette- isn't that exciting? The two boys you love? Flailing around you because you make them so shy and nervous? I can't wait to see how this plays out!" The knowing smile that Tikki had on annoyed Marinette. "What do you mean 'the two boys I love'? I'm not in love with Chat Noir! And them loving me? Impossible. Chat Noir loves Ladybug and Adrien hasn't shown any interest in me other than being 'just a friend'." The face that the little Ladybug wore was drier than the Sahara desert. "Marinette. Are you really going to argue with a being that has existed before time itself about this?" The designer only stared back stubbornly before answering. "Tikki, transformer-moi!" "You know I'm ri-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight-" Was the last thing Tikki managed to say before encasing Marinette into her standard suit. Ladybug snorted, hands on hips as she tried her best to ignore everything that has happened prior. "Liking Chat Noir as well doesn't make this any easier dammit..." ~(x)~ Adrien tripped over his shoes and fell on his face as he was too preoccupied in watching Marinette (with a dopey smile etched on his lips) chatter with Marc and Nathaniel. He was rewarded with the love of his life helping him back up on his face and cupping his face tenderly as she worried over him and checked for any injuries. Chat Noir pestered Ladybug over and over again about allowing Marinette the mouse miraculous once more or even letting her try a different one as he tenaciously believed that she would make an excellent part time hero like Rena Rouge and Carapace. The silly cat ended up receiving a playful chop to the head and a 'I'll think about it' from his Lady. He never noticed how she was oddly flustered as he was too busy doing victorious acrobatics and dances during the rest of patrol. A student from the nearby lycée took interest in Marinette after seeing her a few dozen times since he was a local at the Dupain-Cheng bakery. His attempt in asking her out however was sabotaged by a group of peculiarly dressed, short 'tourists' asking for directions to the nearest Parisian attraction in their painfully broken and accented English. The boy missed his chance to seek her out when she skipped out of his sight with Alya and co and then gave up entirely as Marinette ended up going off on a heated rant about how she was getting sick and tired of strangers going up to her and asking her out when she's never really acknowledged them. He missed the way the supposed tourists removed the disguises from their faces, revealing Adrien, Nino, Kim, Max and Ivan as they 'Ho ho ho'd away. During his patrol, Chat Noir spotted Marinette conversing with both Luka and Kagami near La Seine, the latter two sporting a fond look towards the short designer. Fonder than usual...Noir didn't like it at all. It didn't help that he knew that the musician harboured some feelings for Marinette and the fencer has mentioned numerous times how cute Marinette was. So, with his usual dramatic flair, Chat vaulted towards them, staff slamming between Marinette and the other two friends and then slid down to their level. His body slightly shielded Dupain-Cheng from Couffaine's and Tsurugi's view as he exchanged pleasantries with a slight bite to it. The trio happily conversed back instead, sending guilt down Chat Noir's spine for acting a bit bratty in the beginning. The guilt transformed into second hand embarrassment as Luka and Kagami admitted that they started to casually date and was asking Marinette for advice on where to go for a proper date to make it official. There was no need for the green cat to make its appearance to start with! ~(x)~ Marinette gave Chat Noir a pleasant kiss on the cheek, thanking him for escorting her home and her warm smile never wavered when he went through his customary babbles. The kitten ultimately gave up speaking, gathering back what's left of his dignity and grasped Mari's fingers, kissing the knuckles chastely before saluting and leaping away. The heroine in disguise let out a happy smile, a soft blush flared in her cheeks as she leaned against the top of the balcony and perched the side of her head with her fist. A few stars twinkled in the dark, clear sky and the breeze was soothing enough to clear one's mind. "Oh Adrien, you poor kitten...now what am I gonna do with you?" Marinette's quiet giggles were joined by her kwami who flew out of her purse and nuzzled her holder's cheek. "Told you he's in love with you. You owe me those tasty triple chocolate chunky cookies with your Maman's special tea." "Oh well. A deal's a deal. I still can't believe he's my Chaton- no, wait. I can believe it. Who else would be my silly, dorky, wonderful partner? Did you see how jealous he looked when he saw me with Luka and Kagami? And I thought I was bad! Hahah!" "At least he didn't get them akumatised like he got Theo once." Tikki chimed. "Oooh! Can you believe that he wrote 'Adrien Dupain-Cheng' on your notebook a few times without realising it wasn't his? And then proceeded to steal it for a day so that he could get rid of the pages he's written on? Plagg almost choked on his cheese laughing about it!" "If he hadn't missed that one page, I'd have never known why he stole it in the first place. Makes that time I borrowed his phone for the day to delete the voicemail seem minor in comparison." "He has a folder in his phone dedicated to pictures of you and another folder dedicated to you and him! His current lock screen is of him and you~! So cute~!" "We're both so horribly obsessed with each other. How is that cute- hey! Stop laughing!" "And his name for the operation to make you notice him; absolutely adorable~" "Pfft. I'll give him that. It's not too bad." A comfortable silence settled between them as they happily stargazed. For once, Marinette didn't feel exhausted or being pulled apart in numerous directions. Figuring out that her crime-fighting, pun loving partner was none other than the shy, sweet boy who sat in front of her in class soothed her heart and eased her mind. Accepting that he was head over heels for her to the point where he turned into a nervous, stammering, hot mess did nothing but fill Marinette with giddiness and perhaps be less harsh on herself when she was in his shoes. He fell for her twice. Twice! Just like she did! How could she not be floating on cloud nine after that? For once, her hectic life ever since she received the magical earrings has hit a calm and Marinette couldn't wait to see what adventures would follow next as she and Adrien would face them on unmasked, without anymore secrets. Speaking of secrets. "Hey Tikki? When should I come clean to him? There's no way that I could keep this hushed. I have a feeling that Maître Fu is aware of everything too with how I've seen him lurking left and right with that stupid knowing smile you both always seem to have on. So it should be alright, right?" "Since the Guardian has given you and your partner more freedom with your secret identities now, it's up to you when you want to tell Adrien everything. Bu-uuuuut...I kind of want to see him confess to you. Maybe figure it out himself. It's more fun that way, no?" Tikki's grin widened at Marinette's rosy cheeks, the former looking away bashfully, eyes sparkling with joy. "Do you think he'll figure it out?" "Plagg told me that he figured it out the day Mme. Mendeleiev got akumatised but ended up having to scrap that idea when he saw that illusion you created to throw him off. Adrien was so sure that Ladybug was you and seemed pretty down when you disproved that theory." 'So he did know it was me...' Marinette thought with awe, recalling how much happier and excited Chat Noir was during the battle, thinking that his Lady was his Princesse. "I'll give him a couple of days to confess or figure out my identity. Otherwise I'll just grab him by the collar and smooch his stupid face like no tomorrow." Tikki kissed Marinette's cheek in response, delighted with the girl's answer as they made way back into her room. ~(x)~ This was it. He was going to confess. Adrien has had enough of the way Marinette's lips would taunt him with the way they glistened under the lights and he couldn't escape the sweet scent that wafted from her every time she moved. It was so much more easier to deal with her when she was flighty and shy! Now? She was so much more sure of herself, bold, coy, dare he say...flirty. It went from squeezing his fingers to reassure him to smoothly kissing his cheeks as a thank you for whenever he's helped her out or did something she thought was 'adorable'. The tight hugs, the hair ruffles, the lip biting, the cheeky smirk that eased its way to her face whenever someone mistook them as a couple and the lack of denial or correction she gave in response. If he didn't confess at the end of the day, he was going to explode! With the help of the founding members of Operation Marry-Nette along with the new members, they have arranged a successful scenario. One that was working way too smoothly compared to the previous hundred or more plans that went haywire in an instant so Adrien kept a look out for anything strange or bizarre. Knowing his lack of luck, Le Papillon would strike now. Luckily, this didn't seem to be the case as he found Marinette waiting for him by the Arc de Triomphe. The place where he asked her to meet him. "Marinette! Hey!" Adrien jogged towards her, mentally patting himself on the back for not stammering. That thought process was quickly wiped away when he realised what she was wearing and how beautiful she looked. Dupain-Cheng was decked up in a simple but stylish red blouse with a high waist, short black skirt. Following her long legs were black tights and black ankle boots that had a red ribbon on the zippers. Her hair was kept up in space buns, also adorned by red ribbons, making her sky blue eyes pop. Lastly, her lips were glossed in a cherry red tint. The urge to kiss them increased by ten folds and all the words that Adrien has taken months upon months to plan and say turned into goop. 'What the fuck!? This isn't fair. This is so not fair. Why the hell did she have to dress up so prettily and look all cute and innocent now of all times? Why now!? Fuck! It should be illegal to be this beautiful! Damn you!' "Hey there Handsome! You said that you needed to tell me something?" Marinette peeked below her dark lashes and fiddled with the gold necklace that adorned her neck. A necklace that he gifted her a few weeks ago. She was going to be the death of him. "...Adrien? Are you okay?" Her hands reached up to cup his red cheeks only to be intercepted by his in an iron grip. "Adrien?" The boy squinted his eyes shut, blush never leaving and finally blurted out his feelings: "Wǒ ài nǐ!" . 'I love you!' . . . A few seconds of silence went by. The sounds of the chattering crowd in the background faded into nothing as all the boy could hear was the harsh pounding of his heart. Fearing the worst, Adrien refused to open his eyes and his ears and cheeks burned with both shyness and embarrassment. Dread began to build up in his heart when he felt Marinette wriggle her hands out of his grip and his shoulders sagged, awaiting the rejection that was clear to follow. His spiralling thoughts were halted by the contact of Marinette's fingers brushing his cheeks, slipping through his hair before getting tugged down sharply so that his lips crashed into hers. Adrien's eyes snapped open for a split second in surprise as a shocked mewl escaped his throat but then the warmth and softness that was Marinette's lips took over and he couldn't help but shut his eyes again. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her small frame tightly against his and he couldn't help but smile into the kiss. Before Adrien could deepen the kiss, Marinette parted much to his dismay but her lips still brushed against his. He got an eyeful of her cheeks turning as rosy as his and her lips darkened into a kiss bruised state. An image that burned into his mind pleasantly. "So...d-does that mean you love me too?" Adrien couldn't help but whisper, lips tingling as they brushed against hers. "Silly Chaton. In China, we don't outright say that! But...wǒ zhǐ shǔ yú nǐ." "My Lady!? Mmph-" The boy was silenced with another kiss and this time, Marinette's words played in repeat over and over again in his mind. Wǒ zhǐ shǔ yú nǐ: I only belong to you. . . . ~(x)~ A/N: I'll proof read tomorrow. N I G H T. And Ramadan Mubarak~

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bitchoftheclouds · 4 years

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i choose you - Satan x Reader

(A/N): I wrote this whole thing while listening to a playlist of love songs and I felt that shit. I feel like I was sort of expressing my own feelings through this piece, and not just my feelings about Satan, my feelings about love as a whole. Anyway, enough of the rambling. I hope you enjoy this guys! I’ve really been feeling the Satan vibes lately, so this is just a result of that. ♥ I didn’t really think of a specific gender while writing it, but I guess it can pretty much be taken as gender neutral? Pretty sure I did not mention any gender characteristics. Starts after the cut !

Warnings: none really? just that this is pretty angsty for a bit. there’s like a one sided Lucifer x Reader at the start but this is 100% Satan x Reader fic.

Satan’s POV

Satan noticed your door was ajar. He figured you must be in there and headed towards your room. He was about to knock and call out to you but he heard voices from inside. One of those voices belonged to you. And the other..Lucifer. He took a peek inside, and saw the two of you standing in front of each other. You were..close. Closer than he felt comfortable with. He could instantly feel the wrath boiling up inside him. He wasn’t Levi. Envy wasn’t something he dealt with on a regular basis. But something about seeing you and Lucifer together like that, did not sit right with him.

He stayed quiet and continued watching from where he stood. He saw as Lucifer raised his hand and cupped your cheek. You didn’t lean into him but you didn’t exactly make any moves to stop him either. That was more than Satan wanted to see. He quietly scurried away from the door and headed back to his own room.

Your POV

When Lucifer said he wanted to speak with you, this was the last thing you expected. You weren’t entirely surprised. You could be quite intuitive when it came to this kind of thing. It was clear to you that each of the brothers, Lucifer himself included, felt something toward you. A desire to be more than just friends. You never expected the oldest brother to confess to you like this, however.

You stayed quiet and allowed Lucifer to speak out about how he felt. When he raised his hand to your face, you felt yourself stiffen. You truly cared about him, but not in the way that he wanted you to. You didn’t attempt to move his hand off of you. You didn’t have the heart to do that to him in the middle of his confession. Maybe you should have, instead of giving him hope. You had a feeling he could tell that you didn’t exactly reciprocate however. Lucifer definitely wasn’t blind, or stupid.

“I can tell by your silence, and that blank expression on your face that the feelings aren’t really mutual here..” said Lucifer, with a slight frown on his face.

You sighed and took his hand into yours, looking at him with apologetic eyes.

“Look, Luce. I love you, and I really care about you.. Just not in the way you want me to. You’re important to me, all of you boys are. But I can’t give you the answer that you want. I’m sorry.” you said, your own heart sinking at the idea of the pain you might be causing him.

“There’s no reason for you to be sorry. I understand. I truly care about you too, my dear. And our relationship is more important to me in the bigger picture than my own feelings.” said Lucifer, looking at you with tired eyes but a slight smile gracing his face.

“So we’re good then?” you asked, returning his smile.

“Yes. We are good.” he replied, chucking slightly. “However, I do believe you should pay Satan a vist.”

You looked at him, tilting your head in confusion. “Huh? Satan? What do you mean?”

“Just, trust me (Y/N). I know my brother. I really think you should drop by his room.” he said, looking at you seriously. Unbeknownst to you, Lucifer had sensed his younger brother’s presence earlier. He could also tell that something was off about Satan, and he had a feeling he knew exactly what it was about.

“Uhh.. well, alright, I guess.” you said, not wanting to question him further. Lucifer always had a specific reason behind the things that he asked you to do, so you figured you should just indulge him.

You bid Lucifer goodbye and headed to Satan’s room. You knocked lightly on the door, and waited patiently for him to respond.

“You may enter.” you heard his slightly muffled voice from inside.

You opened the door and made your way inside, closing it behind you.

“Hi, Satan.” you said, smiling at him warmly.

“(Y/N).” he said, nodding in your general direction. He did not look directly at you however. You could sense something was off. There was a kind of coldness in the air.

“Is everything alright, Satan?” you asked him, confused at the atmosphere surrounding him and his room. Satan was usually quite happy to see you. You two had always been comfortable with each other, having spent a lot of time together. You’d talk about anything and everything, sometimes simply even reading together in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

“So what were you and him talking about?” said Satan, blatantly ignoring your question.

“What? Him? What are you talking about, Satan?” you asked, genuinely unaware of what he was talking about.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about (Y/N). Lucifer. What did he want?” he asked, looking at you with a poker face. You swore you could almost see a fire burning in his eyes however.

“Lucifer? He just wanted to talk to me about something. It’s nothing worth mentioning right now. How did you know about that anyway?” you asked, your confusion only increasing at his response. Satan had never behaved this way in front of you before, and you had absolutely no idea what was going on. You were quite nervous, if anything. You’d hate to think you had done something to ruin things with him. He was more important to you than you had ever outwardly admitted.

He simply scoffed and turned away from you.

“Satan..? What’s going on? This isn’t like you at all.” you said, starting to get irritated at the way he was behaving.

He remained silent, his back facing you. You walked toward him and gently placed your hand on his shoulder, turning him to face you. You were shocked when you noticed that his eyes were welling up.

“Satan..” you said softly. You moved your hand up to cup his cheek but he moved it off of his face and looked away from you.

“Satan.. talk to me, please. What’s going on..?” you asked him again, your voice cracking as you yourself could feel tears starting to form in your eyes.

"So, everything that we’ve been through together..it just meant nothing, then?” he asked, finally breaking his silence, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

Before you could respond, he grabbed you by the shoulders, making you gasp.

“It was always him? I don’t even know why that surprises me at this point. Of course you would choose him. I..”

He hesitated before continuing; “I just thought things with you were different..I thought we had something. I should have known that all this time, you just wanted him. I..”

He broke into a sob before he could finish, sliding his hands off of your shoulders in defeat.

You didn’t say anything, simply pulling him into a hug as he sobbed, silently crying yourself as you held him. He did not resist, simply melting into your arms, crying into your chest. You allowed him to let out his feelings, waiting for him (and yourself, honestly) to calm down a little before you spoke.

“You know..for someone who believes in the power of knowledge, you sure can be an idiot, Satan.” you said.

“What..Hey!” he said, breaking away from you, looking at you with an annoyed, but questioning expression.

“What makes you think that I chose Lucifer over you?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well...I saw the two of you in your room. You were standing close and he was holding your face-”

“And so, you assumed that I’m in love with him and that he’s more important to me than you are?” you said, looking at him with an unamused expression.

“I mean-”

“Seriously, Satan?” you interrupted him once again. “You surprise me, I really did think you were smarter than this. I love you, you idiot. And I choose you. Always. You’re the one that I want. Maybe I should have told you sooner, and we could have avoided this entire thing. But fuck it, better late than never, right? I love you, so much. You’re everything to me. And you will always be my first choice. Always have been, and always will be. And the fact that you didn’t know that is ju-”

Before you could finish, Satan suddenly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a kiss. He took you by surprise at first but once you processed the situation, you kissed him back. Your lips melted into each other, your tongues fighting for dominance as the kiss grew deeper and more passionate. This went on for a while before the two of you finally had to break away to catch your breath.

You were the first to break the silence.

“W-Wow. I, um..” you paused, trying to get your thoughts together. “..wow..” you finished.

Satan chuckled at you. He smiled at you warmly, his eyes practically sparkling. You’d seen him smile at you before but there was something different about this...It felt as though you’d unlocked something inside him.

“(Y/N)..” he started. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. I love you so much, my love. You are my first choice too, this has always been true. Since the moment I met you, I knew there was something different about you. And I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.”

You returned his smile, blushing lightly and biting your lip.

His expression suddenly turned serious. “However, I must apologize for my behaviour earlier. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m not sure what had gotten into me. I just..The thought of you choosing Lucifer over me..I’m not sure I’d ever felt pain that cut so deep before. It was worse than any kind of physical pain I’d ever experienced. It felt like I could not breathe, like I had lost everything..I..I’m so sorry, my love.” he said, turning his face away from you.

“Satan, hey..look at me.” you said, holding his face and turning it towards you. “It’s okay. I understand. You don’t have to worry about it. I love you, no matter what. I don’t care about anything else. There’s nothing you could say to me that would change that, okay?” you whispered.

He looked at you with eyes full of adoration.

“What did I do to deserve a creature as beautiful as you..?” he asked, his eyes welling up once again.

You simply pulled him into you again, holding him close. The two of you remained like this for a while, taking in each other’s warmth. In that moment, that was all either of you needed.

#obey me!#obey me x reader #satan x reader #obey me satan x reader #satan x mc #obey me imagine #obey me headcanon #obey me one shot #obey me x mc #swd obey me #swd obey me x reader #obey me fan fiction

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hollyand-writes · 4 years

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Just wanted to say that I saw your post about Blond Boy Romance discourse and wanted to thank you for such a succinct write-up about Anders. I got into the fandom in late 2019 and i was SO confused about this huge gap in art and fic. Like, dead links and missing blogs and deleted posts. And I couldn’t figure out what happened because no one was talking about it, and I’m very shy after a mess in my last fandom. So...yeah. Thank you for writing that up, it’s nice to finally know what happened even though it’s really depressing. Also, thanks for staying in this fandom. You’re a wonderful example to others and an amazing creator.

Hello wanderingnork, and a very belated welcome to the fandom! 🙌🏾 Well. Welcome to what’s left of the fandom anyway LOL ❤️

Thanks so much for reaching out and sending me this really kind ask message (the post being referred to is my addition/reblog here) but yeah, I guess for those who weren’t in Dragon Age 2 fandom or the Anders side of fandom between December 2017—July 2018 you wouldn’t have seen how horrifying the bullying got. I’ve seen at least 3 people who aren’t friends with me reblog my post saying that what I described was why they themselves quit DA fandom or the Anders side of fandom too.

And those are the Anders fans who DIDN’T delete their Tumblr blogs. Obviously the ones who DID delete and/or quit aren’t here to confirm that they, too, quit over that Anders wank in 2018.

The worst of it was that the wank was started entirely by a group of Anders fans who – to my knowledge – still see themselves as the real victims to this day, even though they only stopped their callout posts and bullying (both in public and behind the scenes in private) when they learned that the Anders fanartist they were bullying was considering taking legal action. (You KNOW things are bad when fandom wank gets so bad that it becomes actual harassment that breaks the law.) And like I said, they posted some pretty shitty things about those of us who were friends with this artist too, causing many of us to block them.

They backtracked like fuck in July 2018, but after seven months (maybe more?) of constantly bullying this one popular Anders fanartist (who’d repeatedly apologised, deleted the NSFW sideblog AND the offending art, and posted how the whole thing had driven that artist to a breakdown and suicidal thoughts), maybe it should never have got that far?

I don’t know how active they are in DA fandom now – but I DO know one of them notoriously posted that us blocking them was “bullying”, and that “bullying is child abuse” for “children” like themselves... despite the fact that they admitted they were 23 and therefore were very much not a fucking minor or child. (They had a lot to say about how WE should have been responsible for their “online safety” as well, and that Anders was their “comfort character” whom they only wanted to see sweet fluff content for, and they regularly triggered themselves by searching out Anders content that was less than fluffy or sweet to complain about on their blog. Not to mention how many of us queer POC Anders creators in our 20s and 30s – including the Anders artist they bullied – were accused of being “white” and “boomer-passing” for defending Anders content they didn’t like LMAO)

I’m so sorry to hear about the huge gap in art and fic you experienced on coming in to Tumblr Dragon Age fandom, but given how many creators took one look at the bullying and thought “fuck this, I’m leaving” and either deleted their blogs or Anders posts/fic/art/meta or simply left for kink-friendlier fandoms, I am honestly not surprised to hear this. I am also sorry to hear that there was a mess in your last fandom too; and I hope that this fandom is better to you.

Dragon Age fandom is a difficult fandom to be in, but trust me when I say there are lots of good people in it. They’re just harder to find, and often they’re not as prominent or in-your-face as the nastier types. But I know they’re there because I’ve found them, and I treasure them, and I’ve been here since 2014.

I think really all we can do is block the haters as much as possible, and carry on creating whatever the fuck we like – and tagging appropriately. I learned my lesson from that wank in 2018: if someone(s) is really determined to destroy you and just wants you gone, there is no apology or deletion you can give that will be good enough. Besides, there are so many problematic themes and content in Dragon Age canon that I don’t think it’s reasonable to ask creators to completely shy away from exploring those if they want to, or from making OCs that mirror a canon character’s traumatic background, or from writing/drawing canon characters as anything less than healthy and wholesome and pure (which NONE of them are in canon, anyway) – especially if it’s tagged and warned for.

I mean... we all paid Bioware to purchase and play this 18+ game with its uncomfortable, difficult and sometimes problematic themes and content. I feel that if the Dragon Age franchise was so terrible and traumatic and problematic for someone when playing, then I do question why they joined the fandom afterwards. And I don’t think the onus should fall solely on fandom creators – who are doing this for free, unpaid, in our spare times – to create perfect, unproblematic, wholesome content that just wasn’t in the games themselves. Different people have different definitions of what is “perfect”, “unproblematic” or “wholesome” anyway.

(On that last point: look at how the people behind The Mess callout tried to accuse people of being racist for romancing Cullen with pale-skinned Lavellans; back in 2016/2017 you got accused of being racist for romancing Cullen with darker-skinned Lavellans. How times have changed 🤔 There’s a LOT of content in this fandom that I don’t like, or that squicks/repulses me, but as long as it’s tagged in a way that I can avoid it, I’m not gonna police what people create. And if there’s one thing I’ve noticed the Dragon Age fandom IS very good about doing, it’s that most people are careful about handling problematic topics and content in a sensitive way. So that’s not a thing I worry about.)

Anyway. I’m rambling. But yeah, that recap of 2018 (which several people have confirmed is true now) sums up why there is such a huge gap in Anders fanart and fic, and is why very few people create Anders content anymore – I know I myself abandoned a Garrett Hawke/Anders longfic in 2018 because I didn’t want to create for Handers fans if the only ones around were bullies who believed they were victims. But it’s been well over 2 years now, so.... I might get back to writing that fic. The Gym AU is still very much alive in my brain 👀

So! That’s what happened... but despite everything I want to emphasise that there IS much good in this fandom, even if it’s harder to find among all the shit there is 💩 and that I hope your stay here is a good one. Thank you so much for saying you think I’m a wonderful example to others and an amazing creator, though! ❤️ I don’t know how many people will agree, but I do try!

But yeah, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from being here since 2014 – and from surviving several attempts to run me out of fandom (including for having an elf/human OTP) and off this platform – it’s this: The people change, and the characters and subjects being wanked over change, but fandom wank itself never ever changes.

#wanderingnork #replies #also #tagging this as #anders #fandom wank #fandom critical #long post

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hopeless-nostalgiac · 4 years

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with all appliances and means to boot: ncis/tiva fic

for this challenge, @loudlooks requested Tiva + "I didn't know you could do that." thank you for the inspiration!! *hugs*

set summer between S3-4 w/ team dynamics & tiva (a LOT of tiva—they took over the fic, basically, and I’m not sorry about it)

also, this turned out like eight times longer than I expected & was the most fun and freeing thing I’ve worked on in years, so

enjoy:)

FFN

“I didn’t know you could do that!”

McGee’s voice filtered over news-chattering televisions, incessantly ringing phones, and chicken-clacking keyboards to reach Tony at his desk.

“There was no reason to mention it earlier. It is not exactly a useful skill, my friend.” Ziva’s full-throated chuckles were wind chimes amidst the office drudgery.

Tony shook off the eruption of gooseflesh on his arms. It was way too early for that. And McGee was babbling again.

“I’ve just never met someone in real life who could do it.”

“Really?!”

A boom of shared laughter enveloped them.

Glancing at the digital read-out on his monitor, Tony silently cheered. 9:07. Totally busted. Then he pretended to be busy with paperwork, so his attention was occupied ahead of time.

The agents’ conversation lowered until it faded completely, coinciding with their entrance into the squadroom.

Tony had that effect on them now. The tables, as the saying went, had turned. They were the class troublemakers to his super-strict teacher. They, the unruly cadets, and he, the veteran drill sergeant. They were Agents; he was Boss.

“Agent McGee. Officer David. You’re late.”

McGee froze while swinging around his desk. Ziva froze after dropping her gear. Tony continued to stare yet not see the file in front of him, but he didn’t need visual confirmation to know the teammates were exchanging glances, coordinating their plan of counterattack.

“Well, technically we were in the building on time.” The opening lob courtesy of McGee.

“Technically, that’s not good enough, McTardy.”

“It was when you were wearing our shoes.”

Tony fought an eye roll. “You can’t throw me off the scent with a well-timed idiom blunder, Officer David.”

“Can’t I, Tony?” Ziva’s voice was louder, closer to him.

Out of his peripheral vision, he spied her leaning on the divider between their workspaces. So close now, he caught a whiff of her lavender mint shampoo as she flicked at a cascade of curls that had fallen over her shoulder. If this was their strategy, well, it wasn’t the worst angle.

But Tony DiNozzo was better.

“No, you can’t,” he reiterated, finally gracing each of them in turn with his steady gaze. Calm, yet intense. Everything rumbling beneath the surface. “And it’s Agent DiNozzo. Or Boss.”

Ziva stared back, golden-brown eyes matching his intensity, but not the calm. She rattled off a string of heated Hebrew, ending with a sharp snap of her teeth before spinning around on her heel and dropping heavily into her desk chair.

Crazy chick.

“So, anyway. Just to be clear: If you’re here after me, you’re late. Period.” Tony slapped a case folder closed, causing his desk to tremble; he could emphasize his words, too. “For today, you can make amends by telling me whatever it is McGee didn’t know Ziva could do. I’m thinking it involves lots of stretching, but if there’s a video game reference, leave it out. Go!”

And like that, authority forfeited for curiosity.

McGee did roll his eyes and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like waste of time under his breath. Ziva scoffed, typing noisily at her computer and decidedly not looking in Tony’s direction.

“That’s an order.” Even he didn’t buy the command.

9:10. The day was shot.

. . .

If someone asked Tony how his first weeks as leader of MCRT were going, he’d say, “Good, considering the circumstances,” with a flash of white teeth. He didn’t like to lose face, sure, but he was pretty confident it was the truth, too.

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, leaving you in charge of a team that for years affectionately regarded you as The Class Clown, the circumstances weren’t on your side and ‘good’ was the most you could hope for.

. . .

“What did you do?”

Passing through the automatic doors, Tony came up short—as much due to the always assaulting antiseptic stench as the accusation. “Why do you assume I did something wrong? Can’t I come see my favorite Autopsy Gremlin with no ulterior motive?”

“Sure you can,” Palmer called from the freezer section, where he was sliding a corpse home. “But I already talked to Abby, who talked to McGee.”

Fantastic.

“So before, with the ‘what did you do?’...that was kind of redundant, huh?”

“Guess so.” A dorky chortle escaped the assistant. “I mean, seriously, they were only late by a couple minutes, Tony. Sorry, Agent DiNozzo.” Another hiccup of laughter.

Great. Just great.

“Gee, I was hoping I could escape some of the ridicule down here....” Tony pressed his palms against the cold steel of an autopsy table, shoulders hunched, depositing weight into the defeated stance. All his course-correcting tactics, including buying his team lunch, had done little to reverse the morning’s death blow. McGee and Ziva were ignoring him aside for a lone campfire, and then their interactions were clipped—aggressively so where the ex-assassin was concerned. Now the damage was spreading to the sub-basement, it seemed.

“Look on the bright side, you’re the team leader. It’s what you’ve always wanted, right?” Palmer mirrored Tony on the other end of the table, adjusting his glasses before adding, “This is a bump in the road, but no one ever achieved greatness without first overcoming resistance.”

“That’s wise, Palmer. For a man who talks to the dead. You wouldn’t happen to know—”

“What McGee didn’t know Ziva could do?”

Tony blinked. Maybe they’d been underestimating the Autopsy Gremlin all along. “Yeah. Know anything about it?”

“It’s not a big deal. We were at the bar last night and first the waitress got Abby’s drink order mixed up, but it was super busy, so I suggested that—”

“Sometime today, Palmer.”

“Well, it turns out Ziva can knot a cherry stem with her tongue, and then...”

Oh, it was more wondrous than he’d guessed (and that list was long).

Palmer’s rambling dissolved to the background of Tony’s thoughts. He couldn’t get to the audacity of everyone going out for drinks without him because the dexterity of Ziva’s tongue was front and center. As he was recently familiarized with that very tongue and the talented mouth it resided in, it was all too easy to lose himself in a sexy daydream of the alleged feat.

Until he remembered how pissed she was at him. Bubble, burst.

. . .

If someone asked Tony how his first weeks sleeping with Ziva, his former partner and current subordinate, were going, he’d say, “What? I’m not—we’re not—how dare—what?!”

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, some of his rules haunted you.

. . .

“Rough day?”

Tony looked up right away. It was best not to play games with the director, who emerged stealthily in the dim, empty squadroom. He’d dismissed McGee and Ziva at regular quitting time, unable to make eye contact with either of them—for different reasons—but stayed behind to catch up on last week’s case reports. Him, voluntarily completing paperwork.

Rough was an understatement.

“I see my shortcomings are making the rounds.”

Jenny’s smile was beautifitic, the one she wore during news interviews. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t seeking it out. I was speaking to Ducky on a separate matter, and he happened to mention talking with Mr. Palmer, who—”

“Got the scoop from Abby because McGee blabbed to her,” Tony finished, barely restrained. “Yeah, I’m well acquainted with the watercooler daisy chain.”

It didn’t slip his notice that Ziva was the missing link. The text he’d started writing to her the second she disappeared through the elevator doors was unfinished and unsent on his phone.

“Did you also hear they went for drinks after work without inviting me?” It came out as a whine.

Jenny didn’t mask her amusement. “Did you always invite Gibbs for drinks? No, because he was your boss and you were probably venting about him.”

Touché.

“I’m trying, ma’am.” This he intoned with every fiber of professionalism and sincerity he could summon in the moment. The problem was that this wasn’t his first mistake since taking over—wouldn’t be the last—but he was trying. He wanted that noted. Also, there was an insane learning curve, and yes, big shoes to fill. Could he be blamed for that?

The redhead stepped forward, switching her smile for an expression of...not quite pity. Understanding? “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Robin Hood: Men in Tights?”

“Shakespeare.” Jenny chuckled, her fair eyes sparkling in the light of his desk lamp. Tony could see why Gibbs was once head-over-heels for her, back when they were partners. He knew something of those complicated emotions, of which the text draft on his phone contained damning evidence.

“It’s the nature of being in charge,” she continued. “You’re going to have crappy days and plenty of nights when you can’t sleep. My advice, from experience? When you screw up, apologize and do better next time.”

“Isn’t that a sign of weakness?” It was a reflex, after so many years.

Jenny caught his eye and held it. “No. It’s a sign of respect.”

. . .

He was sober when he showed up on her doorstep. Stopping off for some liquid courage briefly flitted through his brain, but flitted out just as quickly. McGee, he could buy a NutterButter, eat some humble pie himself. All would be cool again. Ziva was a different story.

Namely, a story with a lot of sex in it, and it’d barely been a month yet. That he spent a large portion of the day envisioning her tongue doing erotic dances with a red cherry stem wasn’t helping. It also further convinced him of a brutal truth: Things were changing. Things had already changed.

Ziva, outlined by the glow from inside the apartment, crossed her arms over a baggy workout t-shirt. Curls piled in a messy bun. It was Tuesday, kickboxing night. “If you are here for a booty call, you will be sorely disappointed.” Each word was wrapped in her delicious Israeli accent, momentarily distracting him from their sum meaning.

He’d expected as much.

“See, when you want to get them right…” Tony’s attempted humor and roguish smile failed to earn him leniency.

“Goodnight, Boss.”

The door hurtled toward him, closing on his chance to repent—and more than that, his chance with her. His left hand flew up, catching the wood with a few inches to spare.

“Hey, whoa. Wait. I’m here to apologize, all right?” Breath whooshed in and out of him; sweat beaded instantly on his forehead.

Okay, so it wasn’t just about the sex. He was enamored with her, and it hadn’t been a full month yet.

Ziva yanked the door back, though the arrangement of her features maintained dubious feelings. She raised her eyebrows in a way that said, Yes, and?

“I was an idiot, Ziva.”

A corner of her delicate mouth pulsed. “Good start.”

The heaviness in his chest released. He dared another smile, softer-gentler this time, and the door stayed open. “I was too hard on you and McGee.”

“You will apologize to him as well, yes?”

“Yes. McSweetTooth will wet himself with glee, I’m sure of it.” Tony shuffled his feet, bringing him onto her brown doormat, never dropping her gaze. “But seriously, Ziva, I know I messed up, especially, you know...I mean, you should be able to call the guy you’re sleeping with by his first name, even if he’s your boss. That is,” he sheepishly tagged on, “if I’m still the guy you’re sleeping with, after today.”

For a bloated handful of seconds, Ziva froze, as she had that morning in the squadroom. Eyes like lasers, drilling through him. It lasted long enough for doubts to creep in. Then—

“Are you?”

So simple, but coupled with her head tilted to expose honeyed neck, her popped knee, and the slight part of her plumped lips, the challenge was clearly set for him.

This would be fun.

Tony launched over the doorway, literally sweeping Ziva off her feet as he plowed into the apartment. An honest-to-goodness squeal filled his ears, then that wind-chime laugh took over and his knees wobbled in their sockets—nevermind her 100-something pounds hanging on his torso.

It was the first time he’d carried her this way—any way—but her arms and legs wrapped around his body with an ease he would have analyzed if not for the supple give of her breasts against his chest, or her frizzy hair tickling his chin. Her mouth alternated between whispering the dirtiest promises in his ear and nibbling on his neck. Thoughts would have to wait.

How they shut the front door, how they maneuvered the hallway to her bedroom, how they undressed and (eventually) found the bed was a haze of details that didn’t matter. The shudder that coursed through her at his every touch, mattered. The inverted bridge her back made when his lips and tongue met her center, mattered. His name on a gasp, woven into a sigh, lifted to a shout...

In this area, Tony DiNozzo excelled. He was damn well going to prove it.

. . .

It took two rounds to sate her. The first go was part of the apology; the second was because he had a young, hot lover who could run eight miles at the crack of dawn, kickbox for an hour after work, and still have energetic sex with him—twice. Who wouldn’t take advantage of that?

“Guess I got that booty call after all.” He love-tapped her ass, which was bare to the air. He braced for retaliation.

None came.

Hair mussed and cheeks flushed, Ziva glanced over, fixing him in her line of sight. A smirk hiked up the side of her mouth not buried in the pillow. “As did I, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Never going to live that down, am I?”

“Give it a few months.” Her smirk widened as her eyelids drooped, each blink taking longer and longer to pull back up.

. . .

They dozed together in the dark of her bedroom. They weren’t cuddlers, per se. Their connections left them too sensitive, sticky and unspooled. They stayed close, though. Touching random pieces of her to him, him to her. His head resting on her bicep curled closest to the mattress. Her ankle molded to the arch of his foot. Sometimes as conventional as their hands laid one atop the other, fingers loose.

. . .

He began talking while they ate cereal in the kitchen at quarter to eleven. He was talking as she cleaned and put away their dishes and led him to the front room, his body going where she steered and nudged. What he voiced was nothing new to either of them. All the same issues that overwhelmed him on a cool May night, that propelled him to Ziva’s door in what would become a habit. He was drowning; she was refuge.

For that, and so many other reasons, he trusted her without question.

Ziva allowed him to talk now because that was how he worked out problems. They both knew that, too.

“I think it comes down to the fact that...I don’t know how to be a team leader that isn’t Gibbs.” The admission floated and settled on the sofa cushion between them. It wasn’t often they said his name anymore. The memory was sore to the touch.

“We have been over this, yes?” Ziva tossed a leg across his lap, the other tucked beneath her. He immediately claimed the tanned skin of her thigh, rolling it under his hands. “This is a chance to be your type of leader, make your own rules.”

“Every time I do that, it blows up in my face.”

“Not every time,” she corrected, her eyes darting to his lips and lingering.

His heart rate ticked up. Very true. They might not have happened if Gibbs hadn’t left. But… “We’re one thing, Ziva. The team is another.”

She turned his chin with her hand, locking his gaze with her steady and fervent stare. An imposing combination. “Tony, you either keep trying or you quit, just like Gibbs. What will it be?”

It was Tony’s turn to sneak a not-so-subtle glance at her lips. When she put it like that, the answer was undebatable. What he’d told Jenny wasn’t a lie. And giving up wasn’t an option.

Didn’t mean he’d hand her the win that easily.

“How about we make a deal?” While his eyebrows waggled, his hands roamed farther than her thigh. “I persevere with the team leader thing. In exchange, you show off your fancy cherry stem tying prowess for me.”

Her mouth gaped, eyes narrowing. “Who told you?”

“Palmer. The guy’s actually not a bad sounding board.” He’d have to remember that for future thorny cases.

Ziva deflected, “I do not have any cherries in the fridge.”

Tony returned, “That wouldn’t stop a true parlor trick magician like yourself.”

Her face reformed in an expression that always intrigued him. A cat devising the perfect trap for her prey. It didn’t surprise him when she stretched her leg out, straddling his lap properly. He circled her low back, drawing her hips over him and generating a spark of friction. There was extra verve in her fingers burrowing the short hairs at his nape, tipping his head upwards.

“You must really want me to—”

Ziva covered his lips with hers, swallowing his words as they melted to moans. Instead of continuing hot and heavy, everything slowed. Each kiss long and needy, a continuous caress. Her heady spice invaded his senses. The tip of her tongue slipped by his teeth, running the roof of his mouth before pushing in further.

Tony’s spine straightened at the sensation of tongue against tongue, the rough texture, the strokes and flicks. He gripped whatever part of her was in his reach, would likely leave marks. She didn’t flinch. She was all around him, practically tying him in a knot.

It was exactly how he imagined it, but also superior.

He was smiling when they broke apart, breath imperative for them both. “Your ingenuity is an inspiration, Ms. David.”

Ziva winked, leaning forward to kiss him again, a casual closed-lipped peck in the wake of such an intimate encounter. And he knew, no matter what came of leading the team, he wanted this—them—to survive.

“Now you must honor your part of the deal, Tony.”

“Whatever you say,” he agreed, flipping her onto the cushion and following her down for round three.

. . .

The next day, Tony waited at his car in the parking lot for his team to arrive. He walked into the building with them, and didn’t check the clock in the mornings ever again.

He apologized to McGee, which just freaked out the newly-appointed Senior Field Agent. As Tony predicted, the Nutter Butter made all the difference.

By the end of the week, he brought Special Agent Lee onto the team because there was symmetry in four and they needed a probie to act as a buffer. Plus, she was good at meeting case report deadlines and Tony wasn’t.

He doubled-up on campfires and went to Jenny for advice more often. Palmer, too.

The team went out for drinks, occasionally inviting him to join. Occasionally not.

A month later, he and Ziva started keeping their love in each other’s hearts along with spare clothes in one another’s dressers. Soon, there would be no sense hiding them anymore.

And when someone asked Tony how leading his own team was going, he said, “Our results speak for themselves,” and meant it.

Because when your boss quit and ran off to Mexico, leaving you in charge, you wore the crown and made it your own.

fin

#tiva fanfiction #ncis fanfiction #tat fic #and you don't have to catch up on eight chapters of WIP to read this one!!#tony dinozzo #ziva david

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emo-potato-virgil · 4 years

Text

Desert road

Daryl Dixon X Male Reader.

Angst fic, character death.

I wrote this years ago for a challenge and found it again recently, decided to throw it out there.

Summary: Y/n picks Daryl up from a bar in town, miles from their home. Shitfaced drunk, Daryl experiences the most traumatic event in his life.

Warnings: Drunk Daryl. Verbal fighting. Daryl being an asshole. Injuries. Death.

Setting: Right before season 1 of twd.

Enjoy!

It happened on a Saturday, late at night, or maybe early Sunday. Not that it mattered. It was a memory that haunted him every night, every single night. It didn't matter whether he was asleep or not, the dark sky, the side of an abandoned road at night, a walker with bloody flesh hanging off its dead mouth, it all reminded him of that one night. If only he had known what would happen, if only he had listened, he could've stopped it. But he didn't know at the time, couldn't have known. And he didn't listen, too absorbed in other things to even cast a glance to the side. And he couldn't stop it, because it had already happened before he had the chance to turn around. He beats himself up over it every night, every single night.

"Daryl, c'mon, we gotta go home!" The voice calling for him was familiar, but Daryl's drunk mind couldn't process who it was or where it came from. When did the music get this loud? He turned his head to the left, and then to the right, searching the sweaty, dancing bodies around him, trying to find the person who the voice belonged to. A hand on his shoulder caught his attention, and he whirled around to see the face of his lovely boyfriend. He tried to smile at him, but it faltered as soon as he saw the glare directed at him.

"Y/n? We, we can stay here! It's f-fun!" His words were slightly slurred, but he sobered up just by looking into his boyfriend's angry eyes. Y/n was never angry at him, annoyed, sure, but never angry. It's like Y/n wasn't capable of being angry, always smiling, trying to cheer people up or solve a problem. Y/n hated arguing, and often didn't see the point in getting mad. But this was different.

"We are leaving, right now." His voice was a bit lower than usual, just a tad bit intimidating to get through to Daryl. Daryl's mind barely had time to process the hand grabbing at his sleeve, and he soon felt the cold air hit him outside the bar. When did he start walking? His boyfriend was talking, probably to him, but he was distracted by the bottle in his hand that he hadn't noticed before. When did he get this? He took a careful sniff at it, and once he knew what it was, he took a sip. The alcohol burned his throat, but it felt good. Life had been cruel to him for too long, the only good thing about it being Y/n, and he needed a break.

The walk to the car was long and awkward and cold, and Daryl disliked every second of it, but so did Y/n. This was the third time in a month that Daryl had gotten so drunk he could barely walk, and Y/n was getting sick of dragging him out of a random bar in town before he could start a fight. Daryl got drunk often, started fights in bars, and seemed to have little to no respect for Y/n while in this state, but he loved the man, and he won't let such a thing ruin them.

Y/n slowly guided them down the sidewalk, making sure Daryl didn't trip over his own feet, and unlocked the car once they got to it. He lowered Daryl into the passenger seat and got into the drivers seat himself, glad he didn't drink that night. It was then that he noticed the already half empty bottle in his boyfriend's hand, and sent him a questioning glance.

"Seriously? You're still going at it?" He started the car, not really expecting Daryl to answer, and drove out of the parking lot. They drove in silence for a long while, stuck between not knowing what to say and not wanting to say anything at all. The longer they drove, the more tense the air became, until Daryl had had enough of it. He leaned his head against the cool window, watching the scenery pass by as he blurted it out.

"Y'know, I don't need you to babysit me. I can take care of myself." If he had been sober, he would've slapped himself for saying that, but in that moment, he couldn't think.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry for wanting to look out for my boyfriend. And I also sincerely apologize for keeping you out of fights, and for taking care of you when you have a hangover, and for driving miles through a goddamn desert to come get you, and for driving miles through a desert again to take you home. Wow, yeah, I'm such an asshole, and so unreasonable, and oh my, I think you should just get out now and walk the rest of the way, or maybe back to the bar seeing as you can't get enough of that whiskey." His voice was even, calm, and nothing like the tone Daryl's past partners have used in an argument. That's a thing Daryl loves about Y/n, he never raises his voice unless absolutely necessary, and he always listens to Daryl no matter how unreasonable he's being.

Daryl is about to snap back at Y/n, to say something he doesn't mean and will regret later, but he doesn't get the chance. His boyfriend slams down on the brakes, causing the car to make a screeching sound and stop in its tracks. Y/n's arm shoots out to stop Daryl from smashing into the window, and he turns on the mist lights, dark, scared eyes scanning the empty road around them. Daryl takes a few long seconds to process the sudden halt, and his drunken mind tells him to be angry.

"What the hell was that?! You can't just do that!" His angry roar breaks the silence, and Y/n visibly flinches. Oh. He didn't mean to scare him, but he doesn't realize that now, his temper worsened by the high percentage of alcohol and his reason nowhere to be seen. Y/n doesn't answer him, doesn't even spare him a glance, as his eyes search the road and desert around them, for what, Daryl doesn't know.

"What the fuck are you looking for? Hey, Y/n! Why’d ya stop driving?" He couldn't stop himself from snapping again, his words landing like a blow to the face. Y/n curls in on himself, eyes going impossibly wider.

"I, I just.. There was, I think, and I saw-" He takes sharp, uneven breaths, and points a shaking hand at the road.

"There was someone, a, a person, I think." Daryl scoffs, shaking his head as he looks where Y/n is pointing.

"There's nothing there, you're just seeing things." He leans back against the seat, expecting Y/n to start the car again, which he does. The car rumbles for a few seconds before it starts, and they continue to drive down the road. After a few, silent minutes, Y/n takes a longer inhale and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, you're right. I think I'm probably just seeing things."

Dead trees and bushes flash past them, illuminated by the bright lights of the car. Y/n still hadn't turned off the mist lights, too shaken up by the strange, stumbling figure he had seen about a mile back.

"What if it was someone in need of help? What if they got stranded in the desert, injured, alone and without food? Why didn't we get out of the car to look? To ask them?" Daryl sighed as he listened to his boyfriend's rambling, sitting up a bit and turning to him.

"Look, Y/n, I know that you tend to worry about others, but we ain’t going back. If they need help, another car will come by sooner or later. And what if it was someone on drugs? Or a serial killer waiting for their new victims? Just take us home and forget about it."

"What if I can't?" Daryl's eyes snapped open at that, and he glared fiercely at his boyfriend.

"Don't you fucking dare." His warning didn't do anything, as Y/n turned the wheel and changed the car's direction, driving back the way they came too fast.

"Y/n! Y/n stop! You're gonna cause an accident!" Daryl tightly grabbed at his seat, desperate for something to hold onto as the car sped down the dark road.

But no one was prepared for what happened next.

It happened in mere seconds, but both of them felt as though it lasted minutes. The car slipped, the brakes stopped working, the car slid over something on the road, it spun around, three, four, five times, before it came to a halt, lower to the ground than it was supposed to be. The airbags had shot out, softening the impact of Y/n's head hitting the steering wheel. Daryl had been somewhat lucky, his hands clamped so tightly to the seat and window that he hadn't crashed into anything.

"Daryl?" He took another sip of the whiskey, which had also survived the almost crash, before he looked to his left, seeing Y/n with a bloody nose and a forming bruise on his right cheekbone. He wanted to worry, to wipe away the blood and place a soft kiss over the bruise, but his rage won the battle, settling deep into his core as he realized what had happened, and who had caused it.

He stepped out of the car, rounded it, and noticed that the two front tires were flat. He cursed loudly, opening his boyfriend's door and almost yanking him out of the car, pointing at the damage.

"You fucking idiot! Are you kidding me? You ruined our car! How are we getting home now, huh? How are you gonna fix this?" His voice was like thunder, and Y/n flinched out of his grip.

“I’m sorry, I really am! But I swear, there was something on the road!” He wiped at the blood on his face, this was the first time he was truly afraid of Daryl. But his boyfriend would never hit him, he never had and he never would.

It was quiet then. They didn’t know what to say or what to do. What could they do? Their car was ruined, and Daryl was so drunk he could barely keep standing.

“I’ll call Merle to pick us up, he’s probably still in town anyway.” He turned away then, leaving Y/n to himself. He muttered something about Merle probably being drunk as well before turning to the car and looking at the reflection of the window.

“Fucking great, lovely, it’s not like I have a goddamn job interview in two days.. Nope, not at all.” He hissed as his fingers brushed over the bruise, quickly pulling away. Daryl had walked to the side of the road, sitting down on a fallen tree as he tried to reach his brother.

“What did we hit in the first place, anyway?” Y/n wondered as he took a few steps away from the car, rounding it and searching the road for anything that could’ve caused the car to crash. He took out his phone and used it to shine a light on the road, noticing some red, sticky substance.

“Okay, well, that’s unsettling. Look at me, talking to myself in the middle of the night, looking at blood, sounds like a goddamn horror movie!” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he inspected the blood. But a long, vicious groan cut his train of thought off. It came from under the car.

“Okay, what the actual fuck. Daryl?” His boyfriend was still on the phone, apparently now arguing with his older brother, and he didn’t look up at the mention of his name. Y/n was about to walk over, when another groan came from under the car. His gaze snapped to the source of it, and he kneeled down.

“Please don’t be a poor dying cat, please don’t be a poor dying ca- WHAT THE HECK?!” A hand shot out, but not a normal hand, it was rotten, with flesh loosely hanging around it while black blood coated its fingers. It grabbed a hold of Y/n’s wrist before he could pull away. Y/n screamed, a loud, distressed sound which had Daryl drop his phone and jump up immediately.

Then a head came from under the car, dead and rotting and the stench was unbearable. It released another groan before diving its teeth into Y/n’s arm, biting through the flesh and muscle. But it didn’t stop there, it tore off the skin, turning the arm into a bleeding mess.

Y/n screamed again. A long, agonizing sound ripped through the air as he yanked his arm back, cradling it against his chest and staining his shirt with blood. His breaths came out fast and short as he struggled to move away, the pain in his arm so overwhelming he could barely sense Daryl’s hands on his shoulders.

“Y/n! Y/n, look at me, it’s okay, you’re gonna be fine.” Daryl’s face came in his vision, the familiar warm eyes and worried expression soothing Y/n’s incredibly fast beating heart. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Daryl’s attention was on the wound, his hands hovering over it as he tried to figure out what to do.

“Okay, it’s, it’s not that bad. Let me just, grab s-some spare bandages from the trunk, okay?” He made sure to place a reassuring kiss on Y/n’s forehead before standing up and heading to the car.

“Wait!” Y/n’s hand shot out, catching Daryl’s wrist.

“Please don’t go, I don’t feel so, so good.” A sweat broke out on his forehead and his cheeks flushed.

“What’s wrong, how can I help?” Daryl’s worried tone did little to no good as Y/n slumped backwards, too weak to sit up anymore. Daryl quickly fell to his knees beside him, putting his hand of Y/n’s forehead to check for a fever.

“You’re burning up!” His mind shot into panic, he didn’t know what to do. Things like this normally didn’t cause an instant fever. But normally, a not-so-dead corpse wouldn’t bite into someone’s arm..

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, Y/n I’m so incredibly sorry!” He cradled Y/n as he spoke, afraid that this would be it, that this would be the last time he could look into those beautiful eyes.

“For what?” Y/n’s weak voice hurt his heart, this is really it.

“For everything. For drinking so often, for yelling at you, for blaming you for everything. I love you, so so much, I never wanted to hurt you.” Tears streamed down his face as he cupped Y/n’s cheek, stroking it with his fingers.

“First of all, I forgive you. It’s okay, I stayed, didn’t I? And second, you act like I’m dying! C’mon Daryl, I’m fine!” He coughed then, long and hard. His vision blurred a little as he tried to sit up. What in the world was happening to him?

“Let me call an ambulance, please?” Daryl knew how stubborn Y/n could be, especially when it came to injuries, but he was just so worried. He could be dying for all he knows! Y/n sighed but nodded, watching as Daryl walked towards his phone.

His head hurt, his vision was blurred, he felt dizzy and the pain in his arm spread through his whole body, but he still smiled, because he had a reason to smile, he had Daryl. With that thought, his consciousness faded and his body slumped on the ground.

#twd x reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x male!reader #twd daryl #male reader #angst

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spideyy-girl · 5 years

Text

Dating Richie Tozier Would Include...

Request by anon: hey are u writing richie fics??? if so can you just do one where he realizes he really loves her or just a dating richie fic?

Summary: pretty simple,,, what it would be like if you were dating the infamous “trash mouth” of Derry (spoiler it’s fukin awesome)

Fandom: IT

Warnings: swearing, abusive parents are mentioned, serious injuries and talking of death, making out

Word Count: 1480 (4.3 pages)

A/N: so this was requested in May and to the anon who did request this I’m so sorry it took so long! Also, I hope you don’t mind that I did a headcanon instead cause I just had so much to say. But anyways hope you enjoy!

~~~

Dating Richie is just so like nice and just perfect

you guys would've met a long time ago, he defended you when Henry Bowers tried to take your animal crackers in kindergarten

and ever since then you two were thick as thieves

being the closest friends out of the entire Losers club

you started to get feelings for him in sixth grade...

it was one of the many nights when he had come over to your house in the late hours of the night due to his mother drinking again or another family issue

you had stayed up and let him rant to you, holding his hand in yours and gently brushing your thumb against his knuckles as he tried to keep his tears at bay

he hated crying in front of you more than anyone

after he had gotten everything out he was exhausted

he fell asleep right away as you were finding extra pillows

still dressed in his jean shorts and stupid hawaiian shirt

you had seen it many time before but this time it triggered something in you and you knew you were fucked

you not being able to hide your feeling for him and told him two weeks later

you never kept any secrets from the other so it was bound to happen

but thank god he felt the same whoo

and this BOY he was just so EXCITED like YES

after you turn around he definitely starts dancing and pumping his fist in the air

you catch him doing it too

your first date is at the arcade (obviouslyyyyyy)

he teaches you how to play mortal combat

you guys get slushies and it somehow ends up in spilling the entire thing on each other

"SLUSHIE FIGHT"

but as I was saying he's just really the perfect boyfriend right y'know

cause he's already your best friend and you guys aren't awkward and you can trust him and tell stupid jokes to each other

but also Richie has a soft side (fight me on this)

tells you stupid pick up lines, gets you little gifts and flowers, always spoiling you with little things like that

is SOOO into pda but only if you're comfortable with it of course

soft pecks: YES

forehead kisses: MORE YES

hand kisses: BIG YES

hand holding: ALL THE TIME

hugs: EVERY DAY

always has to be touching you, sorta clingy but in a good way

especially after the events of IT, he is always nervous and always has to have his hands on you

because you got seriously hurt during the events of the Well House in the final battle

this poor boy thought you weren't gonna make it and was just so distressed

staying by your side at your hospital bed every single day without fail (not like he had many other people to be with)

crying silently into your hand when he was alone

but when you woke up he was so happy he started to cry more

showers you in kisses and cries to you about how scared he was about you leaving him and his nightmares about the clown from the sewers

slips the big L-word while rambling without even realizing it

and even though you guys are young you knew that you felt the same way, but would save that conversation for later

when your nurse walks in to check on you she finds you and Richie asleep on the tiny hospital bed, cuddling

his head was on your shoulder and your hands were threaded through his long black hair, that was pretty greasy but you didn't mind

his glasses fell off a while ago and cracked but neither of you really cared

Richie practically living with you after his household becomes too much so he's just always over

him always acting like an angel when he's around your parents and them actually loving him and basically adopting him

him wanting your parents to think he's a good influence because all of his other friend's parents despise him for some reason

OMG SLEEPOVERS

your mom and dad wouldn't think much of it before agreeing like once a week since you used to have them all the time when you were younger and before you were dating

you two making out in your room and Richie being really nervous because "what if they just come in?"

(they never do anyways)

doing dumb karaoke sing-alongs to songs like africa and bohemian rhapsody

MOVIE MARATHONS

would usually consist of multiple star wars movies and stupid romcoms that your mom has a stash of

groaning at all the cheesy scenes even though they were exactly like the two of you in real life

cuddling on the couch and sharing a blanket awwww

him feeding you popcorn as you're watching the movies AWWWW

you guys eventually tire yourselves out and sleeping on the couch LIKE JUST SO GODDAMN CUTE WOW

you guys go to your first school dance together

Richie bicycles to your house and makes sure to bring you the nicest bouquet of flowers not so much money could buy

he was for some reason so nervous, like his palms were sweating as he rang the doorbell, and was constantly smoothing down the one regular white button-up shirt he owned

when he sees you in your cute little dress with your hair done in little curls and the small amount of makeup your mother had done for you, he felt like he was gonna faint

how did he get so damn lucky like... SERIOUSLY

little did he know you were thinking the exact same thing as you smiled brightly back at him

you guys had an absolute ball, dancing all night like crazy people, not even caring about the popular kids at school judging you

slow dancing at the end of the night to put your head on my shoulder and it being really sweet

him kissing you at the end, and even though it's still awkward middle school kissing it was just the best thing ever

"I sorta think I may be in love with you"

"I know, you told me last month"

going into highschool still strong as ever just POWER COUPLE

still being nerds and bullied a lot but also everyone wanted to be you cause your relationship together was PERFECT

you guys had one small fight in junior year because of some nasty freshmen were trying to get him to ask them to prom

the poor boy was absolutely oblivious and didn't know what was happening until you started yelling at him

you guys break up during the summer but just before school starts he shows up at your door with a big teddy bear, a bog full of chocolate, a handpicked bouquet of daisies, and a very practised apology

you couldn't help but run into his arms again

you went through everything in life together after that, graduation, college, getting jobs, finding a place to live, and eventually getting married and having a family together

you guys have one little girl named Annie and she's just so perfect

her being such a daddy's girl and having Richie wrapped around her little finger

Richie is the best dad imaginable, despite his not so similar upbringing, going as far as to play dress up and having tea parties with his little girl

living in a cute apartment together in new york, where Richie worked as a radio host for one of the biggest stations in the country

your loves being complete and everything was just how it was supposed to be finally

well, that is until you guys get the phone call from your childhood friend Mike

when IT comes back Richie insists you don't come with him back to Derry, saying that you had to go watch the Annie while he was away

you gave up after a long few days of fighting over it

never being able to sleep since whenever you closed your eyes all you could see was that stupid clown hurting your husband

always keeping Annie close to you all the time and never letting her leave your sight, even though you no longer lived in Derry, or Maine even and there was technically no threat towards you guys

when he gets home you've never been happier in your life

taking Annie to the airport to pick him up and running into his arms when you finally see him, your little girl in your arms as well

"It's over now, it's gone for good this time"

you guys grow old together, and are both really happy and love to recall useless memories from when you were children and everything turns out great

wow honestly I'm crying at this point

you guys are just so damn perfect and everything is perfect I love this

okay sorry I'm done now have fun

~~~

TAGS:

Permanent: @phonegalhelp @caswinchester2000 @gwenebear @morganvanilla

Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist!

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #richie tozier headcanons #headcanon #it #it 2017 #it chapter 2

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p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

Longest Night (32)- Listening

I’m so sorry for this chapter being late.

We switched to a new system at work, and I’m a sort of Adobe Creative Cloud expert in the office, so I had to learn the new system, and then prepare to teach it to everyone else, who were in the same meetings that I was in, but didn’t understand. This has made for several weeks of 10-12 hour long days. Gettin’ that bread tho!!

I had a chapter mostly finished, then I realized I was skipping a bunch of stuff, so I had to take time to really hash out the order of the next half of the story. Hopefully, my vague ideas won’t change too much. lol

I started a new blog, dedicated to sharing works that have been harassed on Ao3 by a certain anon. If you or a friend have received repeated, unwanted harassment by a certain troll, please feel free to reach out to me @lilaanonsupportgroup. The goal is to create a safe place to share fics and drown out unwanted comments.

Thank you all for your patience!

Ao3 | FF.net

—

Pierre Rouso was not a praying man. He was a criminal, with a charge list the length of his arm. But he was completely and utterly done as of tonight. The bald camera man sat in his holding cell, crying his eyes and guilt out, praying for forgiveness. He had participated with the police chief, just as he promised, and led everyone down to the Bunker in the Catacombs. He handed over passwords, combinations to locks, found every key he knew of, and did everything he could to make up for the injustice of his actions.

Seven prisoners were recovered from the bunker, all huddled into ambulances and taken to hospitals. Families were contacted, and missing person cases were closed.

All in the span of one night.

It was terrifying, and Pierre knew he was traumatized.

He awaited his fate in the holding cell at the precinct, though it was more of a formality than anything. The police chief had assured him that his cooperation was greatly appreciated and would reflect well on him when trial came.

He got his one phone call, and instead of calling his parents or friends, anyone that he knew would listen to him, he decided to call his kid sister.

He got her voicemail. “Elise? It’s Pierre. I know you…you’re disappointed with me. I really let you down. I’m supposed to be an example to you, but so far, I’ve only been an example of what not to do.” He swallowed. “I just wanted to let you know, I’m sorry. I’ve really messed up, and I got tied up with the wrong crowd, trying to get my life turned around. Sort of…an Ursula from the Little Mermaid situation. I made things worse, and…well, I might be going back to prison. You’ll probably hear about it on the news.” He choked, the truth getting caught in his throat. But he vomited it out anyway. “I was…involved in the Ladybug and Chat Noir incident. I didn’t want to be, but Salo said if I didn’t—she would—she knew mom and dad’s address. Knew yours too. I felt so helpless. I just needed to confess to you. You probably won’t believe me. You…probably think I’m a failure as a brother. I sure feel like one. But, ever since that night you cut me off, I vowed to turn things around. I wanted you to be proud of me. Because I love you, and I’m so so proud of you. You’re a great kid, and the best sister a guy could ask for. I don’t ask for forgiveness. Just…understanding. I’m…I’m at the police precinct right now. This is my one phone call. Maybe I should have called Ma,” he chuckled. “But I couldn’t stop myself. I was just through hell. I don’t know if you saw the news. I was the person behind the camera. I don’t know why Ladybug spared me, but I didn’t want to waste another moment. I had to tell you. You hear me, Elise? Don’t waste anytime either. If there’s anything you want to do, do it.” He let out a shuttering breath. “Maybe, if you’re feeling generous, could you let ma and pa know? I know that’s asking a lot. I’m sorry to burden you.”

The phone beeped, a warning that he was running out of time.

“But I love you. I will never stop loving you. Even if you never talk to me again. That’s fine. Go out there and be amazing. Um…I’m going to hang up now. Bye.”

It was an awkward way to end the message, but he had to. Or else he’d go into more rambling apologies and ‘I love you’s. Not necessarily a bad thing, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her.

That was several hours ago, after he had returned from his tour of the bunker. Then he was allowed to wash up, cleaning the blood from his face and arms. His clothes were stained, but there was nothing to do about it.

He waited then. Officers letting brief updates float around the room. Edward Savauge had been murdered, his body hoisted from the Arc de Triomphe like a trophy. Lady Lacrima and Grimalkin faced off against the auxiliary heroes and Hawkmoth.

Several more hours passed before a group of three banged up kids were brought into his holding cell with him.

“What happened to you boys?” Pierre asked, noticing the way they trembled.

“There’s two akuma on the loose.” Said one of the boys. “It was just supposed to…we just wanted the money in the cash register. Easy, right? But I had no idea that he was there.”

“Who?”

“Chat Noir. Or…who used to be Chat Noir. Sent one of us to the hospital.”

Pierre grunted. “You’re lucky that’s all he did.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean…I saw what those two are capable of. They killed a room full of people without breaking a sweat. This blood? It’s not mine. You should thank your lucky stars.”

Then, a rush of red Ladybugs filtered passed the cell, lifting the blood from his clothes, and easing the soreness in the boys.

Pierre sighed as a cheer went up through the Precinct. “It’s over. It’s finally over.”

—

Nadja was exhausted, if not completely traumatized. She had been the one to volunteer to follow the Ladybug and Chat Noir story. So she had been on high alert with the van at any moment, ready to get a shot of the akumas in person.

But Lady Lacrima’s demonstration at the Arc de Triomphe was beyond horrible. It was scary, vial, and evil. Everything that Ladybug wasn’t. Later, she would find out that the cameras had turned away from the bodies as soon as they were revealed. They only captured Lady Lacrima’s speech, and the wails of the crowd surrounding them.

But it was over now.

The Miraculous Cure had run it’s course through Paris, correcting everything since they were first akumatized. It even fixed the damage caused by the wrecking ball akuma that started this whole mess.

She had even seen Marinette and Adrien loaded in the stretchers with her own eyes.

The hospital was silent. No one was allowed any information without clearance. So Nadja went home, finally. She’d monitor her phone and the Ladyblog. Someone would say something eventually, right?

—

Chloe had been helpful for once. She arrived at the hospital waiting room with her butler loaded up like a pack-mule.

“Alya, Nino, your backpacks.” She announced, holding out the bags.

“Thanks Chloe, you’re a real lifesaver!” Alya said honestly, noting her laptop was safely tucked inside.

“I know. Mrs. Cheng, I brought your purse with your phone chargers.”

“Thank you dear.”

“And Mr. Agreste,” she said with some level of coldness. “I brought the project that was in your office. Sorry if it’s wrinkled.”

“That’s fine Chloe. I can iron it.” He said, coming to take the hefty bag from the butler.

“That will be all, Jean-Pierre.”

“Yes, Miss Bourgeois.” He bowed before leaving the room. He technically wasn’t cleared to be in the room anyways.

Chloe plopped into a chair by Alya and Nino. “Any word?”

“Not any more than what I texted you.” Alya sighed. “Adrien’s still in surgery.”

“And Marinette?”

“She’s in recovery.” Stated Sabine. “We’re not allowed to see her yet.”

Chloe ‘hmph’ed, crossing her arms. “I suppose I’ll just have to be patient then.”

“You? Patient?” teased Alya.

“I’ve been known to be patient! On occasion!”

“Sure Chloe, I believe you.” Nino said in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Chloe knew they meant none of it. She was happy she had become something akin to friends with them since this started. Not close friendship, but…she could tolerate a few meals together, and what they had affectionately called ‘sleepovers’ which were just watching the stream and strategizing. When this was all over, and Adrien and Marinette were back to their old selves again, she might even be persuaded to hang out with all of them, as a group.

Her, Alya, and Marinette could get mani-pedis. Heck, Adrien would probably be game for that too.

Yes, when this was all over, and everything went back to normal, they’d all have a lot of fun together. It would be great!

Pollen left her purse and settled on the chair with the other kwamis. Wayzz and Trixx were playing a card game, and Pollen joined.

But Tikki and Plagg were much too solemn to do anything.

“I should be with him.” Plagg stated, agitated, for the 100th time.

“You heard the doctor.” Tikki scolded softly. “Adrien’s immune system is down. Any germs could be detrimental to him.”

“I don’t have germs.” Plagg hissed.

“Oh yeah? So that wasn’t you who contracted fleas in the 12th century and spread a plague that wiped out a 1/3 of Europe in 6 years? That was another ‘Plagg’ of whom the name was attributed?”

Plagg hissed at her and curled in on himself. “I didn’t ask you.”

“Plagg, I know you love Adrien, but you have to let the doctors work.”

“I am!” He argued. “There’s not a lock in this world that can stop me from being with him, and I want to be there so so badly! But I know modern medicine is better than what I can do for him…”

Sabine listened to the quiet sobbing of the cat for a moment, before deciding she couldn’t take it anymore. Delicately, she scooped him up in her hand, and then delicately started to pet him.

“Not scared you’ll get the plague?” He snarked.

“Not a bit,” she returned, scratching between his ears.

Just like Adrien would do.

He nestled into her hands, and tried to sleep, knowing that time would pass quicker that way.

Nino’s attention was directed over to Mr. Agreste. No one had paid him much attention since Plagg chewed him out. But he looked like he was getting down to work with something.

He had a wooden ring with some light pink fabric stretched across it. In the basket next to him, he had a spool of rose gold thread that he was threading through the palette.

“Mr. Agreste…are you doing needlepoint?”

“Yes,” he said, undeterred. “I’m working on a present for Marinette.”

That was surprising.

“I didn’t know you could embroider.” Noted Alya. “Marinette gushed about your work all the time. I don’t think she knew either.”

“Well, you didn’t know I was Hawkmoth. I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

The weird tension in the room was destroyed as Tom busted out laughing, nearly falling out of his chair. “I-I’m sorry!” He managed out, still chuckling. “I was just not expecting that from you!”

“Like I said,” Gabriel spoke, eyes not even leaving his project. “Full of surprises.”

“Can I see what you’re doing?” Asked Alya.

“I’m afraid not. This is a surprise after all. I want her to be the first one to see it.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it.” Said Sabine, genuine.

Alya took her laptop out of her bag, resting it on the table in the corner. “Alright, I suppose it’s time I start my project as well.”

“What project, babe?” Asked Nino.

“I’m going to update the Ladyblog with news from the last few days. Nadja asked me to share what I can. Apparently, the world has gone stir crazy for news. I’ve even been contacted by the Associated Press.”

“That’s awesome!” Sabine cheered. “To be contacted by an international news group!”

Alya smiled softly. “You know, when I first started the blog, I dreamed of being Ladybug’s best friend. I imagined following her and Chat and helping them so much that I got to be her friend. When I got to be Rena, it was the dream come true. She had asked me to join! And then…I found out she was Marinette. I laid awake one night just remembering all the crazy things I said about Ladybug to her face. The wild fan theories, demanding that she get with Chat Noir, the evidence I had for her identity. So many times, Marinette said ‘are you sure you should post that?’ and I completely ignored her. How was that being a friend?”

Nino sighed, “babe, you gotta stop beating yourself up. You didn’t know she was Ladybug. No one did. She didn’t expect you to act any different.”

Alya understood where he was coming from, and what he was trying to tell her, but it didn’t dissuade her doubts. “I’m going to draft a post. Then I’ll let you guys read it and tell me what you think.”

“Sounds reasonable,” stated Gabriel.

Alya got to work, clacking out a message.

Sabine dug around in her purse for her phone charger, but found two items that had been placed on top. “Oh!” She said as she pulled out the handmade dolls.

“They were on Adrien’s bed.” Chloe explained. “I thought they might want them.”

“I’m sure that’ll make being separated for a little while easier on them.”

Plagg rose, not able to sleep with conversation in the room. His stomach rumbled, and he cursed it. “I’m hungry,” he stated.

Gabriel put his project to the side. “What do you eat?”

Plagg cast him a skeptical glance.

“I have the ring right now, so it’s my responsibility to feed you. Come on, let’s go down to the food court.”

Begrudgingly, Plagg followed, somehow feeling like there was more to this than appeared.

They were silent as they went down to the food court, following the same format he had taken with Nino. Though Nino had be easier to talk to, as he had been more willing to give him a second chance. This kwami wasn’t giving him an inch.

“Do you think it’s smart to be floating out here in the open?” Gabriel reprimanded.

“Bite me.”

“I’m just trying to—“

“Do nothing. I’m capable of finding food on my own. But I assume you had a reason to escort me. So I’ll let you tag along. But don’t talk to me until I eat. And don’t tell me what to do.”

Gabriel blinked at the ancient being. “Yes sir.”

It was the middle of the night, and all the kiosks were closed. But there were still vending machines. Plagg flitted between them, and found what he was looking for. “I want A3.”

“Popcorn?”

“An adequate substitute for my cheese.”

“What happened to being able to fend for yourself?” He asked as he took out his wallet.

“I can. But I know Adrien hates it when I take food without asking or paying.”

“Ah, I see.”

The cafeteria was devoid of people, which made things silent, save for the hum of the microwave and popping kernels.

Gabriel took a seat at a table by a window. The courtyard was alight with little lights illuminating sculptures and plants. A very peaceful, healing environment. A lovely garden that Marinette and Adrien might enjoy later.

A bag of popcorn flopped on the table. Plagg dove in, rustling the bag, and munching on his snack.

A few minutes passed before he came back out. “Okay. I’ve digested your apology and your reasoning. While I am still extremely angry for hurting Adrien, I am willing to listen to what you have to say.”

“I’m grateful.”

“I’ve concluded, that in the history of mankind, what you’ve done is evil and cruel. But not the worst I’ve seen. I’ve had wielders more evil than you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I had a guy who ate his own baby.” He shuddered. “I had forgotten about that.”

Gabriel blinked. “That’s awful!”

“Well, it was part of the culture back then. Anyways, now you know the bar is really low.”

“Good to know, I suppose…”

Plagg ate some more popcorn before Gabriel finally cleared his throat.

“First, I’d like to thank you for taking care of Adrien these last few years.”

Plagg scoffed. “It wouldn’t have been a problem if you had just done your job.”

“That’s what I mean.” Gabriel insisted. “I wasn’t in the right place to be a father. Even if I put the effort in to be with Adrien, I wouldn’t have been kind or affectionate to him.” Gabriel fisted his hands, looking Plagg in his ancient eyes. “I hated him.”

Plagg stared, wide eyed. “What? How could you say that?”

“I need to be honest with you. For Adrien’s sake.”

Plagg watched him, considering, but stayed silent.

“He looks just like Emilie. He takes after her more than he does me. After she was gone, it became more evident. His smile, his eyes, his laugh, it was like…looking a painful reminder that she was gone. And of course, he didn’t know that she could be saved. He just grieved, and he still mourned, but I watched him grow. He made friends, hung out with their families…And I couldn’t stand it. Why wasn’t he in misery like me? Why was he so optimistic? So hopeful? I thought all sorts of horrible things about him. Assuming he was forgetting her. I’m sure that was the depression telling me that.

“The butterfly miraculous gives me heightened empathy. I knew exactly what everyone around me was feeling. So even when he was schooled into professionalism, I could tell what he was feeling inside. And…it felt better to me to make him sad.”

“You know, some people might categorize that into sociopathy.”

“That would make sense. Am I awful then? A terrible father?” Plagg crunched on mouthful of popcorn as he considered it. “Yes, you are a terrible father. I wish you could have found this out about yourself earlier in life before you had Adrien. Do you think you were always like this? Tell me about your childhood.”

Gabriel ran his fingers through his hair. “When did this turn into a therapy session?”

“When I decided I needed to further analyze you before letting you near Adrien again. Now, go on.”

“Well…I suppose to some degree, I’ve always gained some satisfaction from people’s suffering. It…really culminated when my little brother died when we were kids. My parents were inconsolable, but I was just angry because they stopped paying attention to me. They never got over it.”

“You were never sad that your brother died?”

“I was, a little. I think I might have cried. But, not like my mother did.”

“Did you have a lot of friends?”

He screwed up his lips. “I think there were a lot of kids who liked me and thought I was their friend. But I didn’t really care to stay in contact with them as I got older.”

“Ever feel lonely?”

“Only after Emilie left.” He admitted. “She was the only one I felt like I was equal with. That’s why I was so desperate to get her back.”

“Ever have trouble with the law before Hawkmoth?”

Gabriel got quiet again. “People had trouble with the law because of me.”

Plagg narrowed his eyes. “I know you think you’re better than others. You’re cold, and you shirk familial obligations. You manipulate and threaten people to get them to do what you want. You justify your destructive behavior, no matter how hurtful it is to yourself or others. Does that sound right?”

Gabriel didn’t answer.

“But wait!” Said Nooroo, flying out of Gabriel’s jacket. “He’s been a lot better lately.”

Plagg blinked at the newcomer. “I forgot you were in there.”

“I was sleeping.”

“What do you mean he’s been better?”

“He was really accommodating to Marinette’s parents, and Alya and Nino! He’s thought about their safety and he’s been really nice to them!”

“Is it because it’s the right thing, or the smart thing?” Asked Plagg.

Gabriel winced. “It’s…what Adrien would have wanted.”

“Ah, I think I see a solution here.” Plagg finished the last few kernels. “You may be around Adrien, but you have to judge your behavior on what you think he would like. Which would be painful, considering you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him.” Gabriel clarified. “I did, at one point. But, as soon as his mask dissolved on the screen—“ Gabriel trembled violently, as if the memory had grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “It was like I had been punched in the heart. Everything just—hit me. Like…everything I had done had caused this. Every missed dinner, every short comment…”

“Guilt?”

“It felt like I was awake for the first time in my life. Like I was omniscient to all the things I had done. Keenly aware of every piece I had played. And that my actions weren’t as self contained as I thought. I can’t explain it.”

“You became aware that Adrien was a person.” Plagg stated. “A person just like you.”

Gabriel covered his mouth. His eyes wide with horror at the thought.

“You’ve got work to do, Gabriel. I’m not the one who’s going to fix you. You have to do it yourself, for Adrien’s sake.”

The man just nodded his head. He looked nauseous.

“What did you want to tell me? You brought me out here, after all.”

Gabriel couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

Plagg was right. Absolutely right. Adrien hadn’t been a son to him. He was a trophy, a pawn.

A toy.

And the realization of that evil was crippling.

But Plagg just sat at the table licking the salt and butter off the bag as the man had a complete meltdown in front of him.

“Don’t you think that was a little harsh?” Asked Nooroo.

“What? No. Why don’t you ask him what you were to him? See if he can lie and call you a friend.”

But Gabriel already had his hands around Nooroo, holding him gently. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”

“You’re getting better.” Nooroo assured, petting his cheek. “I forgive you.”

It was still many minutes before Gabriel could speak. He patted his face with his handkerchief. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“Please don’t apologize for feeling emotion.” Plagg groaned. “I have to tell Adrien that all the time. Probably a trait he got from you.”

“Undoubtably.” Gabriel whispered. He swallowed hard, and took out his phone. “This is something I wanted to show you. I have to show you. It happened while you were dormant. I get no pleasure from showing you this, understand?”

Plagg was skeptical, but allowed him to turn the screen to him.

The footage was in green, showing a sickly and terrified Adrien. Plagg recoiled at the sight.

Then Gabriel pressed play.

“Plagg! Plagg!” Adrien screamed as he beat on the door. “Plagg!”

Gabriel fast forward, only for the scene to stay the same. Same scream, same pounding on the door, same begging, pleading.

“Plagg!”

Fast forward more.

“Plagg!”

The timestamp went up by minutes, and then hours.

“Plagg!”

On and on, never stopping.

“Plagg!”

Until his voice gave out.

Plagg just stared, eyes brimming with tears. “Why would you show me that? Why the hell would you show me that!?”

“I don’t know what his reaction will be to seeing you. But if it’s negative, I want you to know why. We’ll explain it to him. But you have to know…”

“You’re a sick and twisted man, Gabriel Agreste. I don’t envy you.”

And he floated off without another word.

—

Oh.

He was very tired.

Very tired and very in pain.

There was pressure on his chest, and strange voices all around.

He cracked open his eyes. A bright light.

Cold. Metal. Under his fingertips.

Paralyzed. He couldn’t move. But, maybe, if he could tilt his head forward just enough.

Oh.

That was a lot of blood.

A lot of blood.

His blood?

Yes. Quite.

And…bones. And tools. Sticking out of his chest. Whoa-oh.

“Oh shit. He’s awake. Dr. Boucher?”

His eyes shot to the speaker. A woman with red hair and reflective sunglasses.

Salo.

“Adrien? Adrien can you hear me?”

His eyes flicked to the other voice. Another Salo. And another next to her! A whole room of them!

“Adrien, you’re in surgery. Just relax.”

What were they doing!?

What was going on!?

Why was it so hard to breathe!?

“You’re going through anesthesia awareness. We’re going to get you back to sleep, okay?”

He couldn’t trust anything this woman-these women were saying.

Why did that one sound like a man?

Was that blood?!

But before he could panic anymore, a haze took him and he fell back to sleep.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #gabriel agreste #plagg #fanfiction #longest night

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foxtophat · 4 years

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just so you know this chapter is almost 10k words

SO HEY THERE BUDDY how are you? it’s been a while, huh? i thought for sure i had this chapter well in hand and then all at once i didn’t, now i’m a week behind my usual posting schedule and all i have to offer you is this fucking MONSTER

i don’t wanna get too into it because it’s pretty straight-forward, but let’s just say that nick and kim have a host of problems in this one bro. good thing that jerome is a guy who likes to be righteously better than everyone else right???

i had a lot of fun writing this despite how much trouble it was. the next chapter is gonna be more fun, with maybe even some alcohol and dare i even suggest it dancing??? perhaps... a good time???? highly unlikely in this day and age

well anyway, don’t wanna keep you any longer. thank you guys so much for reading my incoherent author’s notes and being so chill about this dumb self-indulgent fic of mine. i appreciate every comment, like, reblog, kudos or warm thought thrown my way, so don’t hesitate to lay it on me!!

as usual, the text is under the read-more. keep in mind that this chapter is very long so it might be better to read on ao3, but who am i to boss you around?

Pastor Jerome radios the Rye family late one night, so late that Nick had been just about to turn off the receiver when his voice comes down the line. Exhaustion has left a permanent mark on everybody, and Nick doesn't miss it in Jerome as they connect over the airwaves.

"A caravan is going to be passing through the valley tomorrow," he says grimly, with no preamble. "People heading west. There was talk of stopping by your home."

"What?" Nick asks. "Why?"

"People still look to your family for guidance, Nick. I imagine they want to say goodbye before they leave. Others are looking to trade, or just to reach out. It's been a long time. I suppose they'd want to leave on a positive note."

A year ago, Nick would have been excited for the company. Knowing a bunch of friendly settlers were coming around to say hello and help out before heading off on their own would have saved him plenty of pain and trouble in the past. But these days, other people coming around can be... complicated, and for reasons that Nick has trouble explaining even to himself.

That's probably the reason Jerome decided to reach out so late. They only got to talk briefly about it in town, since there were too many people to overhear them and honestly, Jerome hadn't seemed keen on having a conversation about John Seed almost a decade after the fact. But they had talked, enough that Jerome has trusted Nick to do what's best without interference until now.

"What do you think I should do?" Nick asks, sure that Jerome will know what he's talking about.

There's a lot of hissing and popping on the line before Jerome responds. "I don't know," he says. It sounds like an apology. "I can't imagine being in the position you're in."

Nick scrubs at his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He clicks the button to let Jerome know he's still there, but it takes a moment to come up with something to say.

"Do I know anyone coming through?" he asks at last.

"You will," Jerome replies. "If not by name, then by face. Hurk and Sharky have offered to escort them part-way. There are some resistance members who want to leave. A few who look like they might've gotten through baptism before the end."

Nick clicks his tongue against his teeth. That's what he was worried about. A couple of survivors who have let eight years rot their hatred would be okay. Hurk and Sharky aren't even that threatening, lawless raider shit aside. But former cultists are going to clock John immediately, and there's no clean way to explain that it isn't the Ryes who betrayed them, but actually John, who's abandoned the very principles that led him to cause so much suffering. Nick's almost okay with the guy, and even he occasionally feels a twinge of fury when he catches sight of the huge scar over his heart.

"Are you sure you know what doing?" Jerome asks. " Really sure?"

Nick chuckles. "Hell, Jerome, I've never known what I'm doing. But, uh... yeah. More than I was when we talked, anyway."

"Even with Joseph's reappearance?"

"Weirdly enough, especially 'cos of that. I know I'm askin' a lot of you, but you gotta trust me."

There's no chance that Jerome really means it when he says, "I do trust you, Nick," but at least he's committed to the lie. "If I can, I'll join them. Try to help keep the peace, when the time comes."

"If the time comes."

Jerome sounds disappointed. "You said you weren't hiding him."

"And we aren't!"

"You can't honestly expect everyone to take the news well."

"A man can hope, can't he?"

"That's about all he can do," Jerome replies. "I'll pray for you, Nick."

"Gee," Nick sighs, "Thanks. See you tomorrow, hopefully."

Nick turns off the radio. He stretches his arms out, as if maybe relieving his sore back will make him feel less tense and anxious about Jerome's news. Of course, it doesn't really help; there's still a caravan passing through tomorrow, and there's going to be some kind of reckoning when it shows up. Nick doesn't know what kind of fallout is going to come from it, but he knows well enough not to hope for the easiest outcome.

Carmina is already asleep when Nick comes up, sprawled out on the edge of the bed. It's not gonna be long now before she starts kicking them through the night, and then they're going to have to figure out a new sleeping arrangement, but Carmina seems as uninterested in changing things as Nick is.

"Just got off the radio with Jerome," Nick tells Kim, keeping his voice low and level so as not to alert Carmina. "Wanted to tell us about a caravan passing by tomorrow."

Kim frowns. "Oh," she says uneasily. "Have you told John?"

"Nah. Gonna wait until the morning. Don't want him trying to bolt in the night."

Even though neither of them think John is going to try to run away, Kim still nods in agreement. "What are we going to do?" she asks instead. It's funny, because he'd been about to ask her the same thing.

"Hell if I know," Nick sighs. He climbs into bed at last, Kim moving over to take the center of the mattress. "But I'll come up with something."

Nick doesn't come up with anything all night. By the time morning rolls around, he's had more ideas than sleep and none of them are anywhere near perfect. They all come down to deciding whether or not John should face the parade of people about to come to their door or not, and he is evenly split on the matter. After all, it could be fine; there could be some yelling and some drama; or there could be a full-on fire-fight. There's a not-outside chance that someone might shoot John before they have a chance to explain themselves. There's a chance that they might shoot Nick, too, for harboring him this whole time.

He knocks on John's door right around sunrise, waiting long enough that he almost knocks again before John grunts something incoherent from the other side of the door. He looks like Nick just woke him out of a relatively good dream, too, which is particularly bad luck. Well, John wanted to pay some kind of penance for his bullshit, right? Might as well start now.

"Sorry," Nick says, even though he's only sort of apologetic. "We, uh... have a problem."

"Oh, good," John groans, sitting up and putting his feet on the floor. "Just the sort of thing I like to hear."

Normally, Nick would be glad for a distracting snappy argument over John's attitude, but he doesn't know exactly how much time they're going to have to get ready and Nick doesn't know if anyone's going to radio him ahead of time. John being a catty dick first thing in the morning is the least of Nick's problems right now.

"Look, Jerome radioed in last night. A caravan's gonna pass by on their way out of Hope County."

John's bleary irritation evaporates at the words. "Oh," he says.

"Yeah, oh . You still wanna get back to your beauty sleep?"

"What am I going to do?" John exclaims, lurching halfway to his feet before thinking better of it and sitting back down. He looks up at Nick, who isn't prepared to feel like the only responsible adult in the room, and asks helplessly, "What should I do?"

For once, John's stressed-induced obedience seems reasonable, trying to show restraint instead of hoping for Nick to feed him instructions like some kind of machine.

"You... have a plan, don't you?" he asks.

"I have plenty of plans," Nick replies. "Problem is, they all suck. I guess we could set you up somewhere for the night, so nobody finds you... or, well, we don't. The caravan's mostly leaving for good, but not all of 'em are gonna stay gone, and if they find out I lied to their faces..."

Nick chews on his cheek to keep from rambling on, but the truth is that he doesn't want to lie if he can help it. It wouldn't be right.

"If I stay, they'll kill me," John counters, pretty compellingly all things considered.

"That... might happen, yeah," Nick admits reluctantly. "I mean, not if I can help it, but I don't know what kind of people are gonna show up. Maybe they're the reasonable type."

Sighing heavily, John scrubs a hand heavily over his eyes. Nick is weirdly reminded of Kim in the middle of an argument about classic movie plot points. "I think you overestimate the average person."

"Hey, I'm an average person, and I take offense to that."

John scowls at Nick for a moment, and Nick is again reminded of Kim mid-argument. "No, Nick. You're not."

Nick... doesn't know how to respond to that. "Uh, okay, well," he says, stalling out.

John runs his hand from his eyes back through his hair. "Whatever you think is best," John says at last. He almost doesn't seem to realize it when he says, "I trust you."

"Oh," Nick says. He wants to say more, probably should say more, but he can't think of anything to say. "Well, uh, that's good, I guess. I could still use your help, uh, figuring out the logistics." He points his thumb back over his shoulder and asks, "You, uh, want some coffee? 'Cos I need some."

John huffs. "Yeah," he sighs, knowing full well that he doesn't have much of a choice. "Sure."

It's obvious from the beginning that hiding John isn't going to work. Nick word-vomits about how uncomfortable the idea makes him for a solid two minutes, only to receive a few short agreements from John that are barely better than noncommittal grunts. From the start, John is nervous and uncomfortable, the coffee doing nothing to ease his anxious jitters, but at least Nick can talk out a plan with him without feeling like he's hurling words at a brick wall.

By the time the sun has reached vaguely nine-AM, they've decided that they can't simply drop the news like a bomb, and they know that John is going to hide out in the hangar until Nick decides it's time to fess up. It's a bare-bones plan that has no consideration for logistics, but at least when Kim wakes up, they'll have something to offer other than worryingly asking for her help.

Kim comes downstairs without Carmina, who's probably happy to sleep in for another half-hour or so before the sun nails her in the face and forces her out of bed for good. Kim looks like she barely slept, but she smiles warmly at Nick when she sees him, and groans thankfully when he gets up to get her a cup of coffee.

"So," she asks after she gets a cup of coffee, "What's the plan?"

Nick wouldn't call it a "plan" so much as a "vague idea," but he explains the thought-process anyway. John, who has already heard everything Nick has to say about stowing John away until the "right time" occurs, excuses himself with some half-assed excuse about cleaning the fire pit, ducking out back to probably pace around until he collapses under his own discomfort. Nick can't blame him, really; they're hanging his entire life on the end of a branch labeled "going with Nick's gut," after all.

"What exactly is going to make it the right time ?" Kim asks.

"Well... I guess once we know everyone is here. After we figure out just how badly they might react. If they're real aggressive about it, we can always just... wait until Sharky and Hurk come back, and tell them."

"Yeah, I don't think either of them are going to be happy to know we hid John from them." She sighs, adding reluctantly, "I guess it's a good back-up plan. In case things go really badly from the start."

"God," Nick sighs, draining his cup of coffee, "I hope this doesn't blow up in our faces."

There are footsteps on the front porch, followed by a knock on the door. The two of them freeze, staring at the door for a hot minute until a recognizable voice calls from the other side: "Nick? Kim?"

"Jerome?" Nick calls, pushing himself up from his seat and heading to the door.

At first, he only opens the door a crack, enough to check that Jerome is on his own. When he's pretty sure the caravan as a whole hasn't shown up, he opens the door wide enough to block the entrance with his body.

"What are you doing here?" Nick asks. "The caravan can't be coming through already."

"No," Jerome replies. He looks winded, sweaty and dirty from what looks like a long walk. Nick hopes he didn't come all the way from town by himself on foot — that's more risk than it's worth, with all the wild animals out there. "They won't be here for hours yet. But I... I couldn't sleep. I had to get here before them."

"Jesus, why ?"

It takes Jerome a moment to find the words, but as soon as he gathers the strength, he blurts them out before he loses his nerve. "There has to be something I can do to convince you not to throw everything away like this. Your family has been vital to the county, and I cannot let you ruin your lives when we need to stay together the most ! You're going to turn everyone against you! A monster like John Seed as no right , asking you to risk your family like this!"

Jerome looks to Nick for some kind of reaction, deflating when he doesn't see what he wants. "He cannot be worth it," he finishes miserably.

"Hey, now," Nick says, unable to help sounding offended. He hopes Jerome doesn't take it the wrong way, but from the scandalized look on his face, he most certainly has. "I know what I'm doing, okay?" he amends, feeling a little bad for lying.

A hand touches his back, and so Nick opens the door wide to accommodate Kim standing next to him. "Jerome," she says gently, as though she hadn't heard his outburst a moment ago, "Why don't you come in and have some coffee?"

"This isn't a social visit," he says, startled.

"You can still have a cup of coffee," Kim replies, nudging Nick out of the way. "Come in so we can talk."

Kim takes point from there, leaving Nick to shut the door while she brings Jerome to the table and has him sit, coffee already poured for him. With the living room cleaned up and Jerome sitting at close to his usual spot at the table, Nick finds himself transported backward in time. For a second, maybe even less than that, Nick can see the house the way it used to be — the way it might've been, if maybe they had been less wrapped up in the cult bullshit and more worried about the disquieting news coming in from outside their small ecosystem.

The moment passes, and Nick is still in this uncomfortable situation with a house that's falling down around him. Figures that he can't enjoy the fantasy for even a moment.

Nick mostly keeps to himself, hovering near the support beam while Kim does her best to explain the situation with John to an increasingly upset-looking Jerome. She rehashes the stuff he already knows, about how Nick found him, and the ultimatum that's kept him sheltered and fed for more than half a year now. She even mentions some of the work John's done for them, although she doesn't go into much detail. After all, not many people are going to be impressed by John sorting nails and repairing fences.

What she does focus on is John's reaction to their demands. The way he'd agree to anything, working himself well past the point of exhaustion, falling into mute obedience — Kim tells Jerome everything, listing his strange, unsettling habits like a worried mother talking to a pediatrician. He doesn't sleep. He talks to himself, struggles to focus past the things that have consumed his mind. She's worried about it, and what it means about his time underground. She's seen how people break. Despite everything, she thinks he sincerely is trying, but he won't open up and she can't help but worry that it might cause more problems down the line.

Nick doesn't know how comfortable he can be, listening to Kim discuss John's progress like a teacher talking about a troubled student. He manages to stick it out for a few minutes, but when Kim starts talking about Joseph, and the trembling wreck his appearance had turned John into, he finds himself making a measured retreat for the backyard. Somebody ought to tell John that Jerome has come by, right? And that somebody might as well be Nick, who can't stand to hear Kim worry about John goddamn Seed for another minute.

There isn't much to do in the backyard. Most of the fence is in place by now, and the debris has been pulled around back of the hangar, leaving the yard an empty wash of dirt tamped down by their daily movement. Even the fire pit has been cleaned up, thanks to Carmina taking her chores seriously yesterday. If John had come out here to try and find something to distract him, he's going to be hard-pressed.

For his part, John has taken up a spot by the planters. Kim and Carmina have planted some soy beans in the second planter, but they haven't taken off yet and none of them are sure they will. In the meantime, John plucks out some errant weeds, careful not to disturb the few sprouts that seem to have taken root.

"Hey," Nick says.

John barely looks Nick's way at the greeting. "I thought I heard something," he says instead, which at the very least saves Nick an awkward segue.

"Uh, yeah." He scratches the back of his head. "Jerome's just inside. I thought you'd want a head's up. The caravan shouldn't be here for a while, though. A couple of hours, anyway."

John swallows heavily. "That isn't much time."

Nick nods, looking around the backyard to avoid long eye-contact with John. "Not like we'd have anything to do if it were further away," he points out. "Things here are about as good as they're gonna get."

"It won't be enough." John fixes Nick with a dark look, one that reminds Nick that John's list of past transgressions is miles-long. "This isn't going to be enough for them."

"I guess you'd be the expert on repentance, huh?" Nick knows it's kind of a dig, but at least that ugly look on John's face is replaced by one that's more simply offended. "Look, I know you don't think we... punish you enough around here or whatever, but..."

"Don't say it like that ," John groans miserably.

"Hey, the point stands whether or not I say it! Just — trust us, okay?"

John shakes his head. He doesn't seem willing to admit to it again again, but that's okay. Nick knows he's got John's trust, even if it's been given mostly against John's better judgment. Considering this is the same guy who thinks Nick should have left a few prominent scars to convince strangers of his atonement, maybe Nick doesn't care so much about his judgment here.

"They won't be satisfied," John mutters.

"Maybe that's just your dissatisfaction talking. Most everyone around here are good, decent people, even after everything they've been through. Anyone who thinks we didn't beat you enough is better off getting the hell out of my county. We don't have time for that kind of shit around here."

John is quiet for a bit after Nick's outburst. Nick's not surprised, since John seems incapable of understanding Nick's pacifism, but at least he isn't immediately refuting everything on principle alone anymore.

"I need it to be enough," John finally says hoarsely. "I can't have all of this be for nothing. I can't ."

For once, Nick doesn't bother to stop his knee-jerk reassurances — John looks like he could probably use them. "Even if nobody else is convinced, uh... you should know, we do believe you. Sort of," he clarifies hastily as John casts a horrified look at him, "At least, I don't think you're bullshitting me right now."

John swallows thickly and nods. Words don't seem part of his acceptance, but that's all right, Nick doesn't need them.

The back porch creaks unhappily behind Nick, who turns to find Kim and Jerome standing there. John sees them too, half-rising to his feet before seeming to think better of it and sitting heavily back down on the planter.

"John," Jerome says. He doesn't sound happy, but at least he doesn't sound like he's about to chuck a Molotov in John's face.

"...Pastor Jerome," John responds, looking nauseous.

Jerome steps off of the porch. "We have some things to discuss."

Instinctively, John's hand reaches up, as if to stop Nick from abandoning him, but he aborts the gesture quickly, digging his fingers into the tire treads instead.

"...You're right," John admits. Even though he isn't trying to stop Nick from leaving physically, he looks like he absolutely does not want to be alone around Jerome. Unfortunately, Jerome's expression tells Nick that whatever words he has to share with John, they are private, and they're just going to make Nick wish he'd never heard them.

"It's gonna be fine," Nick tells him. He mostly believes it, too.

The front of the house has mostly been left to rot, which had been fine when Nick wasn't expecting a half-dozen cars to show up in his drive. With John and Jerome busy out back and Kim getting Carmina prepared for company, Nick is left alone to clean up the tumbleweeds that have made their home against the dilapidated remains of chain-link fencing. He could probably leave it — after all, nobody is expecting perfection these days — but somehow he can't bring himself to leave a poor first impression. What John said must have gotten to him, because here he is, looking over a patch of dirt and trying to see how he can make it seem like enough . Proof that he knew what he was doing when he saved John, proof that he knows what he's doing now, trusting the guy with his reputation and that of his family.

Unfortunately, there's not much to save in the front yard, and Nick's bottle of weed-killer is six-years expired and empty to boot. They're all just going to have to work with what they've got.

Carmina comes out at some point to help, mostly by distracting Nick with lots of questions. Are there going to be kids coming? Is Grace going to show up too? Can she trade The Wizard of Oz for another book? Will they mind that John is here? Shouldn't he be hiding? What if Grace does show up, too? Is she going to be okay?

"Honey, I don't know," Nick replies to most of it. Thankfully, he taught her early on that adults saying "I don't know" is actually a good thing — mostly because Nick says it too much to have his daughter think he's being dumb.

"All I know is that we're gonna do our best to be hospitable," he clarifies, because that's a lesson Carmina still hasn't learned anything about. "This is the first big caravan of the year. People are gonna be passing through a lot more as things get back to normal, and they'll always be a grab-bag. Uh, that means it'll be a surprise, what kinda people will come through."

"So there could be kids?" Carmina asks hopefully.

"Sure," Nick smiles. "Kids, dogs, friendly old ladies who'll pinch your cheeks too hard. All sorts of people. But this one is... extra important, you know?"

"Because of John?" Carmina asks. "That's what mom said."

Nick sighs. "Yep," he says, "Because of John." Maybe that's a little harsh, but it's true. Still, Nick tries to sound less exasperated when he continues. "Some of the people coming through probably won't be happy to see him. That's why Pastor Jerome is talking to him now — to see if he can help."

"I thought Jerome didn't like John," Carmina replies.

"Nobody likes John," Nick clarifies. "That doesn't mean we aren't gonna try to help him out."

" Why ? If nobody likes him..."

Nick sighs, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Because it's the right thing to do, Carmina. If somebody needs help, you oughta help them if you can. You know, even before the bombs, everyone out here relied on each other when things got tough. It might not be much, but that's one thing I'm not gonna give up on." He looks around the yard, mostly to avoid his daughter's eye-contact, but eventually, he offers her a smile. "You get it, right?"

"Sure," Carmina says, most likely not getting it at all.

It's not that much longer before the first car shows up. The dark blue sedan that rolls down their drive has heavily patched tires and a crack through the windshield, but the engine sounds plenty capable of a long drive. A mattress and a wardrobe box are strapped to the roof of the car with ropes, and the back seat is full of boxes, but Nick sure hopes they have more supplies on hand than what he sees.

"Go tell your mom," Nick tells Carmina, who nods and jogs off to warn everyone that it's show time.

Nick guides the car around a deep crack in the drive, and he's privately relieved to barely recognize either of the people in the car. The couple that climbs out is passingly familiar — Nick has a clear vision of the man at Lorna's, for some reason — and they seem excited to see Nick, but honestly, he couldn't name them if he tried.

"I sure hope Jerome sent word we were coming," the lady driving says after she dusts herself off. She's got her hair shaved up short, and a long welted scar runs from her temple to her nose. Nick remembers her, minus the scar, but he can't remember her name. Joan, maybe? Georgia? Something like that...

"That he did!" Nick offers her a friendly smile, gesturing towards the house. "We got everything all set up if you wanna make yourselves at home. Uh, he didn't tell us how many were coming, so I dunno if we got enough space, but..."

The guy, whose name Nick definitely doesn't remember, waves a hand in an attempt to ease Nick's worries. "Don't worry, it's just a couple of cars. Us, a couple guys who found a working Honda, and the Halls. They've got a big-ass truck, though, and a trailer, so they might need help with that ditch."

Kim comes around from the back before Nick needs to come up with more small talk. Pleasantly surprised as she recognizes their guests, she calls, "Julia, is that you?"

"Kim!" Julia exclaims, going in for a hug that Kim is glad to give. "It's so good to see you again!"

With the ice successfully broken and Kim taking point on hosting duties, Nick slowly feels himself start to relax back into the role himself. Julia and Clark are long-time Hope County residents, and they seem just as happy to have a brief return to normalcy as Nick is to indulge in it, so for the next few minutes, the conversation stays light and upbeat.

Clark can't give them a head-count, but he talks about the Hall family and their plan to head as far west as possible, implying the whole time that most people found the idea to be too risky to actually take on. When Carmina comes downstairs only to be disheartened by the lack of kids around, Julia is quick to reassure her that the Halls have a boy about her age. It's probably that news that keeps Carmina docile as Julia proceeds to fawn over how big she is.

Sure enough, the next car to come in is a large, beat-up F-150, the bed's sideboards painted with faded apple orchard logos. The family Clark and Julia mentioned are sitting up front in the cab, while three more people take up space in the bed. Nick helps them down the drive, careful of the small trailer they've got with them. The whole time, Carmina is waiting behind him impatiently.

Before Nick can join Kim in introducing Carmina to one of the few kids her age in the area, he's distracted by the third car rolling into the yard. The Honda is another four-door, although it looks more comfortable in the back than Julia and Clark's car, with or without the boxes. Nick catches sight of a toddler sitting on a woman's lap, which will probably bum Carmina out, but at least she can get some practice in with babies.

The headcount comes to ten people, minus kids, which is a lot less than Nick's worst fears expected. What's more, they all seem like reasonable people. The problem, though, is that Jerome definitely mentioned Hurk and Sharky tagging along, and Nick doesn't know how many people might be riding with them. Plus, they've been openly experimenting with the Mad Max raider thing, and Nick isn't 100% sure just how hard they're leaning into it. Escorting a caravan full of families with minimal weapons doesn't exactly scream cutthroat bastards , but the worry sticks to the back of Nick's mind.

Things are calm for the next hour or two. The three people who came with the truck all seem eager to keep moving at first, but they slowly relax once they're seated inside at the dinner table. With a couple of the windows unboarded and the back porch fully open, the inside of the house is filled with light. They had to get rid of the couch when they unburied it, but now Nick wishes they had more seating in here.

"The place looks great, right?" Julia asks one of the girls at the table. Neither of them have ever been here, Nick doesn't think, but they play along.

"Most of the houses collapsed," Katrina comments. She's the most jittery out of the three sitting at the table, and so far Nick only knows that she's from California and has been wanting to get back there since the bombs fell. "You guys got lucky."

"Things are way better once you get out of close-range areas like this," the girl sitting beside Katrina says. She calls herself Merit, and it's clear from her worn-out gear and her heavy goggle-lines that she's been traveling for a while. Nick wonders if she just happened upon the caravan, or if she helped put it together. "Some towns barely look any different."

"It took a lot of hard work to clean it up," Nick offers awkwardly. "You should've seen how much dirt we had to move."

It's weird, taking credit for John's work. Nick takes an immediate dislike to it. He would look to the third person at the table, a gruff and quiet man named Everett, for some kind of distraction, but the guy doesn't seem interested in conversation.

"You think Helena is going to be better than this?" Katrina asks Merit.

"Oh, hell yeah," she says.

As soon as Merit launches into hypothesizing what the next towns might be like, Nick makes a quick exit for the back porch. Carmina and the Hall kid — Liam, Nick's pretty sure — are drawing big shapes out in the dirt with sticks, gossiping as best they can without any daycare socialization to help them. Kim seems satisfied with it, anyway — enough that she can dedicate most of her focus on trading gardening tips and general life-hacks with the two other mothers in the group. Jerome rejoins the group for a few minutes, but after he drifts briefly through the conversations, he seems to disappear again. Nick isn't sure if that's a good sign or not, but he's gonna have to trust himself while he flies blind for a bit.

Nick doesn't know which is louder on Hurk's arrival: the three roaring motorcycle engines, or the cacophony of black metal that comes with them. It's a whole lot of presentation for three guys on some busted old Harleys, but it sure does the trick of drawing everyone's attention. By the time they rumble down the drive, everyone has congregated to the front of the house, just in time to witness an almost coordinated stop beside the truck.

The music blares from an old stereo on the back of one of the bikes, so killing the engines doesn't do anything to stop it. He doesn't take off his helmet, but Nick recognizes Hurk swearing a blue-streak as he tries to shut the music off with as little noticeable fanfare as possible.

"Party train's in town, bitches!" he hollers, as if they aren't watching him beat up a cassette player in real-time.

The two guys with Hurk take off their helmets, and Nick immediately pegs them for ex-cultists. There's something about the way they look at the house, as if the last time they saw it they were busting in the doors at John's command. One of them, nearly as big as Hurk, the only hair on his head his long, untamed beard, looks like he never quite came off the Bliss, his eyes glassy and vacant. The other fills out their stereotypical raiders unit with his wild locs and big, unhinged smile, giving off real wild-card vibes in a pack already chock full of Jokers.

Neither of them are Sharky, which is... weird. Truthfully, seeing Hurk without his cousin is a little jarring — after all, they've been together since the world ended.

Hurk must notice him looking around because he's quick to put any worries to rest. "Sharky's gonna show eventually," he says. "Likes taking the road less traveled, y'know? Since all the roads these days aren't traveled, though, he's gotta get real weird with it." He waves a hand as though swatting away a troublesome fly. "You'll hear him before you see him."

It doesn't take long for that to backfire spectacularly in Nick's face. Not three minutes later, Nick catches the distant roar of an ATV somewhere out in the trees. He isn't the only one; pretty much everybody else swivels to nervously eye the woods until Sharky's caterwauling eases their deeply ingrained flight instincts. Like before, the entire crowd migrates towards the noise, following it into the backyard.

Nick tries not to worry about it as Sharky comes up from the wrong side of the hangar. After all, Sharky's probably gonna drive right by the hangar without so much as a second glance, and anyway, Jerome is there to run interference if things go south. Sharky's mellowed out since the apocalypse — surely he'd listen to reason. Right?

It's all Nick can think about while he and Sonny Hall talk about the potential hazards on their way out. He almost convinces himself that things are going to be fine by the time the ATV engine cuts off, writing it off as nothing more than a random habit of Sharky's to park in the most inconvenient places.

There's no way to rationalize the terrible crash from the hangar, followed by Sharky's blood-curdling holler of, " What the fuck !"

Sharky himself rushes from the hanger via the utility door, practically spilling out into the dirt wash between the two buildings. He rushes towards them with his mouth agape and his face pale from shock; he pulls up short as he catches Nick visibly flailing from his discovery.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck John Seed is doing in your fucking hangar ?" he asks, voice cracking as it fails to contain all of his outrage.

Nick opens his mouth to say something, anything to ease the blow that's coming, but Hurk cuts him off at the head. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he scoffs loudly, waving a dismissive middle finger in Sharky's direction. "Do you know how fuckin' nuts you sound right now?"

Sharky's face turns beet red, fists clenching as he locks eyes with Nick for a brief, furious second before about-facing for the hangar. His betrayal and fury sting like a bitch.

"Sharky," Nick calls, but the guy is definitely not listening to him right now. He looks where Kim is standing, her hand tight on Carmina's shoulder, but she's just as lost as he is. They'd planned to segue into this, for God's sake! This isn't anywhere near what they planned!

Shit. Nick can't let Sharky be the first one to reach the hangar. He needs to get in front of this, before everyone swings into mob mentality and tears John to pieces. As he jogs in Sharky's furious wake, he can feel the group closing in behind him, fear and curiosity and utter disbelief drawing the whole goddamn posse down at once.

Sharky flings open the door and disappears into the hangar. Jerome tries to calm him down, urging him to hold on, but it does nothing to slow the guy down. Nick reaches the hangar in time for Sharky to shove John through the door, knocking him to the dirt in front of Nick's feet.

"Jesus Christ !" someone shouts from behind him. Nick just knew that haircut was going to get them into trouble — as if John's tattooed arms aren't bare and visible to the crowd.

"What the fuck is this shit!" Sharky shouts as he clears the door.

John remains on his knees, keeping his eyes fixed on the dirt beneath him. A flurry of anxious chatter goes up around Nick, who finds himself suddenly standing in a strange no man's land between John and the crowd he'd been part of just a minute before. It's a terrible feeling, watching everyone pull back from him like he's got some kind of disease or something.

Nick fumbles with the words that he wants to say, unable to have practiced for this awful scenario. "I, uh, can explain," he says.

"You'd better ," one of Hurk's riders shouts.

"Look, okay, so..."

Nick is positive they aren't going to like the truth, but it's all he has to offer them. They never got a chance to see John lying in the brush like a wasted corpse — all they see now is the end result of all of Nick and Kim's hard goddamn work, trying to find some kind of real human being under all of the rot. He never should have kept John a secret — he should have forced everybody else to look at the work the three of them have had cut out for them, and then maybe they wouldn't be looking at him like he's some kind of monster for admitting that John had just been too sick, too close to death already, for Nick to bring himself to pull the trigger.

"It wouldn't have been right to leave him there," he sighs.

"You should have put a bullet between his eyes!" Katrina shouts at him.

"Don't you think I considered that?" Nick snaps. "It was the first thing I thought!"

"Then why the fuck didn't you?"

He throws his hands up, feeling crazy for having to shout, "Because I didn't want to !" He's been thrown into some horrible alternate universe where people don't think twice about shooting first and never asking questions. "I've never wanted to kill anybody ! I didn't want to back then, and I sure as hell don't want to start murdering people now ! And I couldn't just — I needed to know how he'd survived, if maybe Dep had..."

"Don't finish that sentence," Sharky warns.

"Or what ? You think that they would've done it differently?" Nick points at John, who sits with his head bowed. "I found this sorry bastard struggling to breathe in the dirt! You tell me what Rook would've done differently if John hadn't given them a good damn reason to pull the trigger!"

"A reason ?" Sharky spits in disbelief.

" Yeah , a fucking reason! I'm not a goddamn murderer, Sharky, and that's what it would've been!" He takes a breath, desperate to keep his cool. "We gave him an ultimatum," he continues. "He could stay with us if he did everything we said, if he swore off of the cult — and he did. He has, I mean. He isn't with the Peggies, he isn't with Joseph —"

"Yeah, until that sonuvabitch shows up and takes him back!"

"Joseph can try ." Nick scowls, glancing briefly down at John, who still hasn't moved, not even to look his accusers in the eye. "C'mon, John. Tell them."

"Like I'm gonna believe a word that fucking maniac says!"

John swallows. But for whatever reason, he manages to find enough words to begin defending himself. "The Project was a mistake," he rasps. "It was a pointless endeavor from the start and somewhere inside I knew that."

Katrina surges forward as though she might burst through the crowd and personally beat John to a pulp. Merit's hand on her arm is the only thing that keeps her from doing it. "You fucking monster!" she howls.

"Yes," John replies. He doesn't look up, too scared to, but Nick knows he means it when he says, "I'm sorry."

"Fuck your apologies!"

Jerome, standing quietly in the doorway until now, steps forward. He doesn't quite kneel, but he reaches down to put a firm hand on John's shoulder. It's not a comforting gesture — if anything, Jerome is holding him in place.

"I know," John rasps. He lifts his head at last, revealing a fresh black-eye, which is no doubt Sharky's doing. It takes him a moment to find the words, but he's resigned himself to the mercy of the crowd, and he doesn't try to plead with them.

"There's no forgiveness for the things I've done. There's no... fixing it. I should have died. When Nick found me, I should have forced his hand, but I... couldn't."

"You had eight years to kill yourself," Everett points out grimly. "You should have done it then."

John swallows. "Yes," he says. "I really should have."

Nick can't help muttering an uncomfortable, " Hey ," but Jerome cuts him off just by looking at him. There's plenty of time to freak out about the suicide talk later, hopefully once John avoids being executed entirely.

"I was a coward," John says. The words come out with the force of a long-held confession. "I've always been a coward. It's why I joined Joseph when he found me and followed every word. It's why I listened to Nick when he told me to choose between being shot in the head or helping him. Everything I've ever done has been — just mindless self-preservation."

John swallows. Nick isn't sure who he's looking to, exactly, but he speaks to one person in particular as he says, "I tried to tear my sins out of you to save myself. Manual labor, mending fences — it's never going to be enough to make up for that."

"You bet it isn't," Everett says.

"You probably have enough skin for us to return the favor," Katrina says. Nick doesn't know if she's carrying a weapon or not, but he's pretty sure he'll be the only one to object if she pulls one on John now.

"Hey, now," Nick interjects, unable to help himself and absolutely unwilling to stop himself this time around. "We're better than that."

"Fuck you! You keep him around like a pet farm-hand on land that could keep us all safe and fed, forcing us to go fend for ourselves while you harbor a goddamn monster under your roof!" She points accusingly at the house. "Yeah, real nice place, you fucking traitor !"

"Who do you think we made fix everything !" Nick exclaims, throwing his arms wide. "The only reason we've got all this usable land is because of John, goddamn it! And you all want to leave. You said so yourself, you're not even from here! If you think you can just roll onto my property and act entitled to it, I'll teach you the same goddamn lesson I taught those Peggies nine years ago!"

"More like cult property," some jackass says, as though shouting something loudly enough makes it true. Nick scans the crowd for the culprit, but there are honestly too many guilty faces to choose from.

"Eden's Gate is dead," John says, as if somehow he's the person to bring reason and civility back into the conversation. "Whatever Joseph thinks he's doing now, it's a crippled organization of people more desperate than you. There aren't enough believers left to allow the Project to become a threat. Even if he wanted it, he could never take this property."

"As if I would believe you ."

"You don't have to believe me," John replies, shrugging off the disbelief. "It's true either way. I know what the Deputy did to the bunkers. The most faithful were being held there — if they weren't destroyed with the gates, then the Collapse would have left them feeling like sinners. And I know what eight years of isolation away from Joseph can do to a person's faith. He'll never have the numbers he wanted, much less the numbers he had before the Collapse."

Nick knows that most of the people standing here are never going to forgive him. They're never going to forgive John, either, and one day they might come back expecting the worst from Nick's bad decision. But at least for now, John's honesty seems true enough to reassure the best of them. Everett hasn't left to get his gun yet, anyway, and Katrina hasn't tried to burst through the crowd and flay John alive. That's something, anyway, right?

"What if you're wrong?" Sharky asks. He still looks pissed, but his arms are crossed defensively over his chest and he doesn't look willing to start a fight right now. "Not saying I believe you," he adds, just in case anyone had any doubts. "But if I did ."

John doesn't hesitate. "If I am, kill him. Of course, his followers will martyr him, so you'll have to kill them as well." He clenches his jaw for a moment, as though he doesn't want to say it, and then admits, "Anyone who would follow Joseph now has to be completely devoted to him. They'll take any outside aggression as a reason to attack. If you move on Joseph, you'll have to be willing to exterminate the whole group."

"That sounds like a whole lotta work," Hurk points out pragmatically.

"Sure sounds like you're telling us to let Joseph do whatever he wants," one of his biker pals adds. It's also a pragmatic observation, but Nick has no doubt it's meant as an accusation. "We show up here and find out John Seed is still alive, and he's telling us to just leave it alone , and you want us to believe you're not part of all of it?"

Nick doesn't realize at first that the guy is talking to him . "Are you kidding me?" Nick asks. "Are you forgetting who shot this sorry fuck out of the sky? He tried to rip the pride right outta me —"

"And yet here you are, defending him!"

"Of course I'm defending him! Nobody else is gonna do it!"

With his blood about ready to boil, it's a good thing that Kim arrives before Nick says something stupid. He's not sure when she rejoined the group, but now she cuts in front of the strangers in their home, resting a hand on his shoulder as she steps up beside him. He grabs it immediately, maybe a little too tightly, but he can't afford to lose his cool any more than he already has.

"I know, it's a lot to handle," she says. "It's been a lot for us, too. But Nick is telling you all the truth. It has nothing to do with the cult. We aren't being manipulated, and we aren't trying to betray anyone. Nick found him when he needed help, and we helped him. It's as simple as that."

She offers them an apologetic smile. "Things after the bombs have been hard on all of us. But the past still haunts me. It's been almost ten years and I still have nightmares about it. I want this world to be better than the last one, but there's still so much of me left back there. When Nick found John, I thought — I thought we might not be done, honestly. I felt the same way you all feel now. But then I thought, maybe if somebody like John could change, then maybe that meant better for me. For all of us."

Hurk, frowning heavily, crosses his arms over his chest as Sharky slowly uncrosses his. "You really wanna put that much hope on that guy?" he asks.

"Well — yes," Kim admits. "I know that maybe it doesn't seem like enough — I know it doesn't seem like enough to him — but John has been trying. And I can't afford to give up on anybody who wants to be better than the person they were."

Nick realizes that Clark has disappeared from the group. The family from the Honda is nowhere to be seen either; Mary Hall is standing at the back porch with her hands on her son's shoulders while Carmina stands next to them.

For a moment, the silence between the two sides seems insurmountable, and Nick worries that they might have to be ready to move or otherwise defend their home from an angry mob. But eventually, after a few tortuously long seconds have gone by, Sonny Hall comes to a decision.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter what happens in Hope County anymore," he says, scratching his chin. "Only time will tell if we'll have to deal with Eden's Gate in California. Still... Might be best if we get moving sooner, all things considered."

"Guess we're getting out while the getting's good," Merit tells Katrina, who looks like she still wants to pick a fight, even with a wide-open escape at her back. "Don't worry, nothing from this podunk piece of shit is gonna affect anything, ever!"

Katrina stares at John like she's memorizing a mortal enemy. "You better hope not," she tells him, although she looks at Nick when she says it.

Sharky doesn't move as the group begins to retreat, leaving Hurk to awkwardly stop some feet behind and wait for him. He stares at Nick like he doesn't recognize the ugly thing he sees standing there.

"It was a real low blow, bringing the deputy into this," he says. "You know that."

For the first time today, Nick feels truly guilty. True or not, throwing anything Rook-related in Sharky's face is definitely a low blow. "Yeah," he says. "I shouldn't have done that."

Deflating at Nick's apology, Sharky scowls in John's direction before eyeballing the Ryes. "Lucky for you, I like Kim," he says at last, sniffing dismissively. "Otherwise, we'd have a real problem here."

"Thank you, Sharky," Kim replies. "Be safe, okay?"

Nodding reluctantly, Sharky turns to join his and Hurk's small gang. Nick watches them all go, unable to decide whether or not that was the best possible outcome, or simply the least bloodthirsty. He can't help but worry who they're going to tell what , but at this point, it's out of his hands.

"I'll go get Carmina," Kim says after a brief silence. "It might be better if they don't see us before they leave."

"I'll do it," Jerome says. He breaks away somewhat guiltily, but Nick can tell that he wishes he could join the caravan right now and get as far away from this mess as possible. Hell, after the way things went today, he still might try.

It's only once Jerome is gone that John speaks, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. "It's not really over," he says, "It can't be."

"Well, we'll have to go through that a couple hundred more times," Nick points out, "But... I mean, yeah. It's over. Sorry I wouldn't let them flog you or anything."

It's probably too early to joke, but he manages to draw a sigh from John, which is better than nothing. He's saved from having to respond as Carmina jogs across the yard, bouncing from foot to foot once she comes to an antsy stop in front of them.

"Is everything okay?" she asks. "They're all leaving!"

"Everything is fine," Kim tells her. "They want to get some distance before night-fall, that's all. Did you have any luck trading with Liam?"

Kim distracts Carmina from the escaping caravan by talking about her new book, as well as some potential ways to find new reading material. Nick and John both remain in the same spots that they'd defended themselves from, until the last car rumbles out of the drive and Jerome reappears on the back porch.

"What now?" John asks.

"I dunno," Nick replies. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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