#I am sad I went during the actual least pretty time of year though (winter with no snow)

[yes-perwallstedt]

I haven’t been up to the twin cities for more than just one very quick day trip for a wild game last spring since 2019 (I used to come up for various things about 4-5x a year) and man I didn’t realize how much I missed coming up here.

I’m sure if I spent more than few days here I’d be tearing my hair out over the traffic and general number of people, but right now I want to move back so badly.

#the traffic was literally 1/3rd of my decision to move back to Des Moines after living up here for 2-ish years back in my early 20s #I am a medium-sized city girl at heart. I can’t handle needing more than about 15 minutes to get anywhere #anne blabs #I got to have ikea meatballs and I got to go to my very favorite independent art store… #I got to have green mill pizza which has so much nostalgia for me #I haven’t gotten to go fabric shopping but that just gives me an excuse for another trip soon #I am sad I went during the actual least pretty time of year though (winter with no snow) #I need to experience St. Paul in the autumn again for my soul to be complete

[agathasangel]

you just don’t know it yet but baby, i’ve already got your heart (diane sherman x fem!reader NSFW)

both an anon and @magnifique-monstre  requested yandere prompt 6 and 17 (i think?) so I’m gonna combine them because they would go together well

prompt 6: “Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”

prompt 17: “I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world.”

warnings: everything, basically. it’s pretty fucked up actually. TW for drugging, stalking, dubcon, emetophobia warning (just one mention), kidnapping, etc. also teacher!diane

summary: Diane Sherman was your Professor, and then your girlfriend, and then your caretaker. As the days start to become hazy and mixed up with one another, you wonder if Diane is trustworthy. 

Every day was basically the same. Wake up, take your meds, have breakfast with Diane. Then you would either accompany Diane to school or she would take you to the doctor’s or sometimes, if you felt up to it, she would take you on some sort of outing. She never liked to leave you alone and protectively followed you nearly everywhere you went. She took you home, and you would rest by her as she worked on her grading. At night Diane would make dinner for the two of you, the two of you would relax together, she would make sure you took the medication you needed at night and then you fell asleep in her arms.

It was nice. But you noticed that you started to forget things. You sometimes forgot how you even knew Diane, you even forgot your whole life before you met her at times. You were supposed to be on medical leave for a semester, which turned into a whole year, and- how long has it been now? You had no idea. You thought it was still summer, but the days started to blur together. The next year may have started, you had no way of knowing. Diane taught year round, so you went to school with her either way.

You remembered how everything started, though. You were a freshman, and you had moved across the country for college. You felt alone, and scared. You took a Chemistry class because you had to take some sort of science course, and it was the only one available when you signed up. You dreaded going, until you saw Professor Sherman. You struggled a bit in the class, so you went to her office hours. It was also a good excuse to talk to her, you thought. 

She was a lot nicer than some of your other professors, and she helped you through the problems you struggled with.

“You know, students don’t usually like to come to my office hours, so feel free to show up whenever you need me. Alright, hon?”

“Of course. Thanks, Professor.”

How did it turn into this?

Oh, right. You and Diane started to get closer, and you started to come down with lots of rashes, general pains, and you started getting sick to your stomach more and more. 

One day, you emailed Diane to tell her you couldn’t make it to her lab because you had thrown up that morning, to which she responded by asking what dorm you were in and if you needed anything.

It might be nice if you could bring me some saltines or something to settle my stomach? I have nothing in my dorm and can’t really stand up yet. Don’t worry about it though. I don’t want to get you sick, and are you even allowed in the dorms?

- (y/n)

I’ll be fine, and it really isn’t a big deal. We’re both adults, and I just want to help you.

- thinking of you, Prof. Diane Sherman

Next thing you remember, Diane showed up to your dorm a few minutes after your lab would have ended and brought not just crackers, but ginger ale, soup, water, blankets, and several different medicines. You talked for a while too, but couldn’t for the life of you remember what about. But you did remember that she stayed with you as long as you needed her, and promised to come back if you needed it.

You didn’t get better. You managed to get through your finals and pass your first semester classes, but you ended up having to spend much of Winter break in the hospital. Your parents came to visit, as did Diane. Diane actually came back every day, making sure you were okay.

You remembered that because of the silver necklace Diane gave you that Christmas that you still wore every single day. You felt bad when you got it because you didn’t think to get her a gift, but she told you not to worry about that, this was just a little thing that made her think of you. Besides, you were in the hospital!

“You know (y/n), I don’t have anyone else to visit over the holidays. I’m glad I get to be with you. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

You started feeling a bit better and were able to come back for your second semester classes. You didn’t have Diane as a professor anymore, but you started to become friends. You would get coffee, or dinner. One night she asked you to come home with her, and be her girlfriend, to which you immediately agreed.

You slowly spent fewer nights at your dorm and more nights with Diane, and then you got sick again.  After that, she convinced you to move in with her full-time, and you’ve been living in her house and sleeping in her bed ever since. 

Right now, you were sitting in Diane’s and your bed, as she made dinner. You struggled to remember what happened next. This was when everything started to blend together. Your illnesses worsened even more shortly after you moved in with Diane. You remember being confined to the very same bed as Diane helped you do your finals from home, as she explained the situation to your parents and easily charmed them, convincing them you were in great hands.

“(Y/n), time for dinner!”, Diane called. She then walked to the bedroom to check if you needed any help.

“I’m fine, actually. I’ve been feeling a little better.”

“Good. Such a brave, good girl. Now eat up, alright baby?” cooed the older woman as she led you to the table and sat you down.

“Well, physically I’ve been feeling better, but-”

“What? What’s wrong? Have I not been paying enough attention to you? Are you feeling sad? anxious? My poor baby-”

“No, none of that. I’ve just been- forgetting things. Like, big chunks. My memories are so foggy. It’s hard for me to think at all sometimes.”

“Oh, honey, that’s just a side effect of your medication. It’s okay, it won’t last forever. And I’ll help you fill in any gaps you need until then. But you don’t need to worry. Not when you’re with me. Okay angel?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Oh, we’re in that kind of mood, are we?”

“Is that okay?”

“Very, very, okay, little one.”

Mommy was what you called Diane most often during sex. It turned her on immensely, and it excited you as well. 

Diane grabbed you and brought you to the bed, tearing off your clothes.

“Are you still feeling good?”

“Yes Mommy.”

“Such a good girl for me. Such a good girl for Mommy.”

You spread your legs for her and she started touching you. But then-

“Mommy stop please. I can’t do this, Diane-”

“Alright. I’m sorry, I’ll go get your meds.

Diane went to the bathroom to get your meds and sleep aids.

“D-Diane?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why can’t I remember things? I can’t even remember some things about my family.”

“A side effect of some of your medication sweetie. I told you that.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I will tell you this, my love. People have hurt you, in your past. I remember when we met you were having such a difficult time. You wanted friends, you had so much trouble making friends. The other students were so mean to you. Your parents they- they acted like having to come see you when you were in the hospital was some kind of inconvenience. It was awful. You were so lonely.”

“I know I was lonely.”

“Yes, sweetheart. You needed someone. You needed me. I have to be the one to take care of you. I am the only person that can love the way you deserve to be loved. I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world. And I need you too. I need to love and protect you.”

“Yes, Diane. I need to sleep now.”

“Alright. Come here, darling,” said Diane. She held you until you fell asleep.

Next thing you knew, you were tied to the pole in the basement with several ropes. Diane was tying more and more ropes around you, around different parts of your body. The world felt heavy, blurry, fluid. 

“Please stop, Diane. Why are you doing this?”

“It’s for your own good, darling. Trust me. You need this.”

The ropes began to cover your entire body. Your face, eyes, neck. Especially your neck. There was a sharp sting on your neck.

Your eyes flew open, and you awoke in a cold sweat, and screamed. 

It was just a dream, I’m safe, thank God. Diane would never-

But then you noticed Diane. She was holding a small syringe, that seemed empty. And your neck stung. She was startled by your scream, clearly not expecting you to have woken up.

“Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”

“What did you do to me? What was in there, Diane?”

“You need it, sweetheart. I know you don’t like needles.”

“No. Why didn’t you tell me? What’s going on?”

“You need this. You need me. Your-”

You searched for the syringe and found it. There was a thick, black residue on it, and you sniffed it. It gave you a head rush.

“You’ve been drugging me. This is why I’ve forgotten things, isn’t it?”

“Come on, angel. You know I wouldn’t”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.”

You did feel tired. So tired. And you couldn’t even remember what you and Diane were even fighting about. So you went to sleep in her arms.

The next morning, Diane made you breakfast. 

“How did you sleep, (y/n)?”

“I don’t know. I think I had a nightmare but I can’t remember-”

“Oh no! At least you can’t remember it, right?”

“I- I guess so.”

Diane felt relief that you didn’t remember what happened last night. Her plan was working. You would be hers, her precious girl, forever. All that work to find you, to make you trust her, making you sick, making you need her. She knew everything about you. You were her perfect girl, and she was yours. And you always would be.

#diane sherman #diane sherman x reader #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #my fics #sarah paulson fics #im actually pretty proud of this one

[adam-banks2024]

Deja Vu

Part 1

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly

He’s insufferable

He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.

He is insufferable.

And I have to deal with him.

Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago. 

I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.

Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.

When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.

“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.

To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness. 

I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.

Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say. 

“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?

He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”

I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.

“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.” 

Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.

My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”

He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”

“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work

Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”

I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”

Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.

“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.

He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--” 

“That I’m not good enough…”

He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.

“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”

I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.” 

He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up. 

Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.

“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.

The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.

It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?

“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”

I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.

He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”

I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”

He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face. 

I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path. 

“What do I get out of it?”

The audacity.

“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”

So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”

He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“Watch it.” His voice was stern.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”

Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”

#the mighty ducks #the mighty ducks imagine #the mighty ducks x reader #mighty ducks #mighty ducks imagine #mighty ducks x reader #adam banks #adam banks imagine #adam banks x reader

[keltonwrites]

Where no one knows your name

How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:

“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”

“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”

“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”

Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:

Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.

New friend who is moving away.

New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.

Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.

​Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:

1) Are you visiting?

Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.

2) Are you part-time or full-time?

The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.

3) What brings you here?

It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.

Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.

#amwriting #newsletter #making friends #how to make new friends #adulthood #small town life

[sunnysviolin]

High school Sunny enthusiast here! Would you mind sharing a couple more headcanons about it? I’m so glad you’ll be able to teach again this fall, you totally deserve to develop your passion at full potential 👏🏻

Am I showing up after forever of being gone? Yeahhhhh Sorry y’all got the brain sads lol but!! I’m back w one of my favorite little universes! I actually had a meeting for our teacher prep program on Thursday which is so exciting!! We’re being assigned our working teachers sometime this month which is insane to me.....Anyway today I’m gonna clean and write!! Take some headcanons nonnie you helped to make me feel inspired again!

This ended up being more Sunny and his Mom than Sunny and high school, but it gets there!! So Sunny’s mom used to make him and Mari bag lunches almost every day. The only day she didn’t was on Fridays, because those were pizza days, and she knew pizza was Sunny’s favorite

She made their lunches the night before and they sat on the back right corner of the fridge. She liked to keep it pretty standard- usually a sandwich (or leftovers from their dinner), a snack, a piece of fruit, and some sort of dessert. Sunny used to sit at the kitchen counter and watch her make their lunches right before he went to bed. 

It was one of the special things that was him and his mom. He got to choose what they had for a snack, what piece of fruit the two of them had, even what went in their sandwiches. He was the one that chose Caprisun or water bottle. He got to help his mom write a little note for Mari to read on a sticky note when she ate her food the next day at school. 

It started as a practical thing (Sunny was such a picky eater, it was best that he decided what they ate so he would actually eat his food) but then it was just their tradition

Sunny was never talkative per say, but during this routine of theirs Sunny’s mom could ask him about his day or his friends, and Sunny would do more than nod or shake his head.

After Mari died, after her husband left, they didn’t need bag lunches anymore. Sunny didn’t go to school, and Mari couldn’t. Sunny wouldn’t speak, not even his infuriatingly endearing head nods and shakes. He just slept. All day long. 

But after they move, after those last three days where she left him alone, something changes. At first his mother is furious with herself. She left him alone and he ended up in the hospital, how could she do that? How could she do that to her last living baby? But Sunny is changed, and not in the bad way. He’s getting up, he’s going out, he’s even seeing his friends.

She had been treating him like her baby again. She had thought that’s what he needed. He needed someone to cuddle him close and tell him he was loved. He had needed someone to make excuses, to let him sleep and process. He had needed to be in the house where he was safe and not out in the world where he could get hurt. He needed his mommy

But....maybe that had been what she needed. 

Admitting you got it wrong as a parent is not easy. It gets swallowed down like medicine and lemon rinds. It bubbles in the stomach and leaves you nauseous and unsettled. But seeing her son growing in front of her, seeing the shell she had left him in beginning to crumble shows her that yes. She did get it wrong. She had let them both stagnate.

When he tells her he wants to go back to school, she cries. She cries a lot. He is clearly very uncomfortable, but Sunny’s mother holds him tightly and cries. She calls the local high school that day and tries to explain their situation. Sunny had been doing some online classes over the last four years, but his grades were abysmal, and his mother is pretty sure he hadn’t learned a thing. 

The school agrees to take on Sunny, but they put him in a grade below his own. He will graduate a year late, but he will for sure graduate. That they promise her. His last school just let him fall by the wayside. This school is already planning out special practices just for him. Sunny’s mother settles the fear in her. Her boy will be looked after this time. 

They are worried about his socialization and ask if there’s any hobbies he has. She can only think of blank stares and sleeping, but she tries to remember the quiet sweet boy her son used to be. She remembers endless sketchbooks and colored pencils, and the oh so perfect melody of her children together. On a whim she enrolls him in Orchestra and Art with assurances that if he doesn’t like them he can switch them out.

The night before his first day of school, she walks into the kitchen and beckons him to follow her. They don’t have a bar counter space for him to sit at anymore, but Sunny hops up next to the fridge. Normally she would scold him for doing this, but she just asks what kind of fruit he wants. 

He tells her peaches, and she carefully carves them into perfect slices the way her mother used to do for her. She and Sunny begin their traditions once more. 

Sunny goes back to school and it is not easy. She doesn’t make it easy. Not on him, not on his teachers, and not on the administration. She calls at least three times a week, telling them that it’s too much. They tell her to back off, to let him stumble. It’s terrifying to do that. It’s worse than any fear to let her child fall and hurt himself. But she does. She does because she’s seen the changes since she left him alone those days in the beginning of the summer. 

One full semester is what the administration asks of her. Just two quarters for him to find his footing without her influence. They will reconvene over winter break to make adjustments, but she needs to let him fail if that’s what’s going to happen. He needs a mother, not a mommy. They don’t know the knife they’ve twisted when they say those words, but that knife is exactly what she needed. She agrees.

Sunny struggles to adjust but he does. His failed tests and missed classes slowly disappear one by one. He brings home a practice violin she did not buy from him, and he plays when he thinks she’s asleep. It’s quiet and unsure, but the music is there. 

He invites her to his concert. She does not hug him and cry again, even though she wants to. He isn’t a baby, he doesn’t need her to fawn over him. She agrees to come, and secretly begins to covert with Kel’s mother. 

She waits outside Sunny’s school for them all to arrive. Hero has come home from college for a long weekend for this. She greets each of them with a firm hug, something she hasn’t done in years. Even Basil, although he seems slightly terrified of her. They sit together in the audience and watch Sunny perform. 

She cries as she watches him. She doesn’t recognize this boy. This is not her baby, not the same child she loved and then lost alongside his sister. He’s changed, someone new is on that stage performing, someone for her to discover and love. 

She had been so afraid of this, so scared for that change, so sure it would only end in another dead child. Now there’s a teenager, not a child in front of her. He’s not so tall and not so strong, but he is alive and real right in front of her, and she is growing. 

She can finally start to let herself be his mother. 

#asks #anon #high school sunny #violinist sunny #can't remember the tag i use #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #omori sunny #omori sunnys mother #omori sunnys mom #sunnys mother #She's just...struggling #but she loves him

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Michelle Kiefer

Michelle has 55 stories at Gossamer. If you haven’t read them, what are you waiting for?! She has great takes on Mulder and Scully. I’ve recced some of my favorites of her fics here before, including Christmas in California, Making Other Plans, and Six Inch Valley. Big thanks to Michelle for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I’m not sure anyone is still reading my stories.  I haven’t migrated my X-Files ones to AO3. I don’t think Gossamer provides any viewing statistics. I’d be very happy to hear that people still like my work.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

My X-Files fandom experience was amazing.  I remember that sense of excitement and immediacy.  It was thrilling to write stories (and read those of other authors, of course) in an active fandom for a show that was on the air.  It was truly my first experience in an online world--a parallel world to my real life existence.  I learned how to keep a foot in each world.  As I recall, it was very hard to keep my focus in my “meat” world, when the online one was so fast moving and thrilling.  But I did get some balance in my life as time went on.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Message boards and mailing lists were my experience.  They were primitive compared to the pretty screens now.  I forged some amazing friendships, some of them with people I discovered lived relatively near me.  All I wanted to do was discuss episodes and fic.  The flame wars were a little intimidating, but also amusing if you didn’t get swept up.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I was very passionate about the fandom--as I said, there were times when my online life seemed to overpower my real life experiences.  I learned to manage that, and think I’m all the better for that.  And I found some amazing friendships that are active and thriving today.  I learned a lot about writing with XF fanfic.  The level of quality was stunning.  A decent percentage of fic were as good or better than traditional published fiction.  But there were so many writers!  I wanted to make an impact on the fanfiction world, but that meant taking my writing very seriously and learning to develop a story, pace that story, make it compelling and believable.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had a couple of coworkers that talked about the show all the time.  I was curious, so I watched an episode.  I believe it was the cannibal town one.  I thought David Duchovny was odd looking and wasn’t terribly impressed.  But I tried another episode - Wetwired, which blew me away with the morgue scene when Mulder thinks he’s going to identify Scully’s body.  Ah...I thought, now, I see what everyone is talking about!  And from then I was hooked.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

As I watched, I wanted more.  I was fairly new to the internet (frankly, the internet was new to almost everyone)  I found episode reviews, and some of them were fantastic.  Some mentioned fanfiction.  I was unaware of such a thing, though to be honest, since childhood, I’d been spinning stories in my head about characters on TV shows.  I found some fanfic. The first couple of stories were not great (at least one was horrible) but then I found some that were very good.  Probably a bit soap-operaish, but still readable.  And then I became voracious as I plowed through the mass of stories looking for the good stuff.  And boy was there good stuff.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I’m not estranged from it, but I don’t spend much time with it after all these years.  I’ve found fanfic in some other shows that I like and only occasionally read old XF stories.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I’ve not been as involved with any other fandoms, i.e. following commentary on the show.  I tend to dive into TV shows well after their heyday, so I’m always late to the party. I do read fanfic from other shows, and have actually written fanfic for other shows, but I need a really good idea to write.  None of the other fandoms for my other shows are as busy and active as XF, even ones currently in production.  And none of them have as much fanfic and certainly not the level of brilliance that we had in XF.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I tend to go for interesting partnerships, very much in the XF fashion.  And a flawed hero is always a plus!  The partnerships don’t necessarily have to be romantic---in fact I find I prefer those that are not.  Really, Mulder and Scully were the only ones I felt deeply as a pairing, probably due to the chemistry between the actors. But the partnerships have to be well-balanced and realistic.  I loved the characters on Sleepy Hollow.  The two main characters were very much in the mold of Mulder/Scully.

My newest passion is British detective shows and I’ve completely fallen for the “Morse-verse” shows, Inspector Morse, Inspector Lewis and Endeavour.  Less of an XF feel, but compelling characters with interesting backstories.  Other favorite partnerships in the British detective genre are on Inspector Lynley and Broadchurch.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

A bit less now, though I’m still involved with a wonderful group of ladies who love the X-Files.  When we get together for a yearly weekend, we binge episodes and eat impressive amounts of junk food.  XF isn’t on network TV these days, but if it was, I’d probably watch it.

A couple of years ago, I listened to Kumail Nanjiani’s XF podcast on my long commute.  I loved the commentary and interviews so much that I did watch some old episodes.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I don’t read much XF fic.  I’m currently reading in some other fandoms, but it’s harder to find good stories--the ones I follow aren’t very active these days and the quality just isn’t what XF was.  We were so lucky.  We had maybe 20 incredible top authors at any one time, then maybe another tier of 50 to 100  good to maybe great writers.  And with new episodes, there was so much inspiration. We were so spoiled.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Everything from Syntax6, MaybeAmanda, Kel.  A special story for me was “Strangers and the Strange Dead” by Kipler because I remember reading that very early in the morning in my unheated basement in the winter because that was the only time I could use our single computer without others in the family complaining.  I remember actually gasping at the big reveal in the story.  I can even remember the story’s opening line!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I was just learning how to write fiction when I was involved in XF, so I’m not sure my best work is there, though the bulk of my stories are there.  I liked some of the work I did with others.  I wrote Bone of Contention and Out of the Everywhere with Kel and I think that those stories got the best aspects of both of our styles.  For stories I wrote myself, I think they’re not bad, but they are rather short and it’s always easier to maintain a theme and style for a short story.  I liked Black Cherry Velvet.  I’m writing some Inspector Lewis stories that I think are pretty good--they benefit from the years of experience that I was gaining through XF.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Never say never, but I probably won’t write more XF.  I used to burn with it, but I think that got burned out a bit.  Still, I have such wonderful memories of the whole period.  It might be worth looking at again.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

As I mentioned, I am currently playing in the Inspector Lewis world.  It’s sad--it’s a very small and not terribly active fandom.  Sad that my best work is in an inactive fandom where I’m lucky if 20 or 30 people are reading them.  It doesn’t help that I don’t write the most popular pairing.  

But I’m really enjoying it.  I occasionally write for Man From Uncle, which really shows my age, as that was a childhood obsession.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

With XF, it was always a take on an episode--did I get a tiny idea that I wanted to develop, or was I not thrilled with the way something went on the show.  Now,  it’s usually a “what if” kind of thing where I get inspired by a possible event and explore how that would play out, i.e.  “What if this character had a one night stand resulting in an unplanned pregnancy?”  What would happen?  How would he handle the consequences of this?  How would it change his life?

What's the story behind your pen name?

It’s literally my own name.  I SOOOO wish I’d used a pen name.  But I was naive and fandom was so new to me that it never occurred to me that a pen name would be better.  I always told myself that my real name sounded like something made up, like a TV newscaster name, and I hoped people assumed it was a pen name.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My husband and my kids were the only ones who knew about it for many years. Then I went to a fandom/fic gathering for three days and had to explain to a few other family members and my work mates why I was going to Chicago on my own. It’s still mostly a need to know thing and they don’t really need to know.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’m on AO3 as msk.  And everything I wrote for XF is on Gossamer.

(Posted by Lilydale on February 2, 2021)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #michelle kiefer

[wallwriterstuff]

Super Stomachs || Dick Grayson x Reader ||

Words: 2986

Warnings: None! 

Summary: You have a new neighbour with an unexpected secret, and one errant thought is all it takes for you to get your cook on.  

Blüdhaven was perhaps not the kind of city you found on Buzzfeeds ‘Top 20 Places To Add To Your Bucketlist” article. The streets were grotty, the housing dismal, the crime rate high and the number of good cops on the force low, but it was your city. You had grown up making a mental map of the places it was and wasn’t safe to go, creating a network of friends and then thinning them out until only a small handful of loyal allies remained. Blüdhaven was a wreck of a place but to those who had grown up in it’s stench and decay it was a fact of life most were desensitized to, something you learned to live with, not fight against. Then one day he had shown up and everything had changed; criminals had someone to fear and citizens had someone to worship.

Nightwing.

Everybody knew who Batman was, headlines blaring his exploits from newspaper stands while radios and TV’s wove intricate tales of his fight against crime, so it was no surprise that Nightwing’s arrival garnered such a mixed response. Some welcomed him as an alternative to the corrupt cops and lack of law enforcement while others defamed the vigilante before his work had even truly begun. It started off as small things, petty criminals brought into the station and small crime rings being busted with the evidence appearing in the news to force the city to do something about it, then he’d moved on to bigger things. He’d taken on the likes of Penguin, who had monopolized the city’s crime circuit and organised many of the local gangs, hiring thugs from the street and raking in blood money and profits from dens of illicit activity that he had spent years peppering about the city.

The fight was ongoing, and you had a feeling that would never change with Nightwing virtually working on his own. The cops were worse than useless, they were paid off, so many corrupt officers on the beat and turning a blind eye so long as they got a cut of the profits...maybe that was why you were so wary of the cop who had moved in right next door to you. Your apartment was nothing particularly spectacular but it was cosy and it was yours, high above the grime of the city where it could remain mostly untouched by anyone wanting to pay a visit to the complex for the wrong reasons. The apartment beside you had been empty for months before he came along, all big blue eyes and cheeky smile. He reeked of money, or at least, his dental work did, but you had played along all the same when he came around to introduce himself for the first time.

“Can I help you?”

“Well I’ll be, I’ve not even told you my name and you’re already offering to help me unpack.”

“If you’re selling something I’m not interested.”

“No, no I’m not selling anything. I just moved in next door actually and wanted to come say hi. The name’s Dick, Dick Grayson.”

“And people take you seriously with that name?”

“Not a day in my life.”

You had chatted politely and found yourself drawn in by his charm and his good looks, the man looked like he was chiselled from stone after all and very obviously took care of himself. He’d moved from Gotham, claimed he had no family though the stormy look in his eyes sad otherwise, and then kicked you right in the gut when he told you what he did for a living.

“You’re a cop?”

“I completed my academy training and moved straight here…you don’t like cops?”

“I never said that.”

“It’s written all over your face.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

“Can I ask why?”

“No.”

It had shut the conversation right down and after an awkward farewell Dick had left you be, then not spoken to you ever since. It wasn’t that either of you were deliberately avoiding the other per say but his schedule was…well, even erratic seemed too kind an adjective for his schedule. You had seen him once or twice coming home from work at various times throughout the day, his uniform on but shirt buttons already a little undone like he couldn’t wait to be rid of the outfit. Usually you were in your kitchen that overlooked the parking lot for the complex but on a few occasions you’d passed him on your way out to your own vehicle, but nothing more than brief nod or a wave was given, there was definitely no time to for chat since he seemed to rush everywhere. He was up and about all hours of the night to, though you’d slowly gotten used to the sounds of him pattering about in his own apartment during the night and after a polite note through his door he had toned it down. Whatever he did at stupid o’clock, he did it much quieter now.

His name had seemed awfully familiar and it wasn’t until a few months after, when his odd schedule was slowly beginning to drive you mad, that you actually looked him up to see if you could find anything about his job. Surely working as a cop didn’t require this many hours and had a neater, more fixed schedule right? You had dozens of hits within minutes, your jaw dropping open when you realised you were living right beside Bruce Wayne’s ward. His career choice both simultaneously made sense and entirely perplexed you. Bruce Wayne had all the money he could ever want so what was Dick working for? Bruce Wayne was also known for his philanthropy and it therefore made perfect sense that Dick had come to Blüdhaven, probably hoping to do some good here like his pseudo-father did in Gotham. You looked upon him a little more kindly after that, but you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right with him.

Was he being taken advantage of at work? A give the rich pretty boy more hours than necessary so he knows what real work is kind of thing? Did he have insomnia? PTSD? He looked so tired a lot of the time yet he always managed to dredge up a smile for you, even when his cobalt blue eyes were miserable. It was headed towards Winter when you saw Nightwing for the first time yourself. He’d been flying about the city for months when he quite literally landed on your doorstep and just….walked in - after jimmying the lock on your patio door of course. He was muttering to himself as he went, cutting himself off with a yawn while you stood frozen in your kitchen, illuminated by the light of the fridge that you’d come rummaging in for some milk you were going to heat up in an effort to help you sleep. It took him longer than you’d thought the hero would take to realise you were in the room, but he immediately tensed up and straightened when he noticed.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” he demanded firmly. You blinked in shock, hand tightening its grip on the milk bottle.

“What am I – I mean this is – I live here.” You stammered in reply. His eyes narrowed behind the mask, a vivid, bright blue staring back at you suspiciously before he glanced around and his face morphed into an expression of horror.

“Yes, right, you – you sure do…erm, sorry about this.” He apologised awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. A silent stare off began then, Nightwing opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he tried to formulate words. He turned his face away as he yawned again.

“Do you want some hot milk?” you asked finally. Did you really want the vigilante in your home any longer than necessary? Probably not. Did your brain just sputter the first thing you could think of? Yes it had.

“Hot milk sounds great actually,” he admitted, “But I won’t keep you up ma’am. I’m really sorry about this, I was supposed to be meeting a friend and it appears I’ve got the wrong house.” Your brows furrowed.

“Mistakes like that get you killed you know, in the wrong parts of town it will anyway.” You said, closing the fridge and plunging the room into darkness once more. For a moment, all was dark and quiet until you expertly navigated your way to the cupboard with your mugs and flicked the light underneath the cabinets on. Nightwing chuckled under his breath.

“That’s funny, you telling me about the wrong parts of town. I practically live in them sweetheart.” He sighed. You pulled a mug down from the shelf and turned to lean your hip against the counter.

“I can’t think of anything worse,” You admitted ruefully, “If you’re staying in my kitchen tonight, you better not bring the wrong parts of town back here.” Nightwing visibly cringed at the thought, his grimace morphing into a very apologetic expression.

“No, no not my intention at all. It was an honest mistake, but I’ll keep an eye on your place just to be safe.” He promised you. Silence reigned again, neither of you daring to speak for a long moment before Nightwing turned to leave. He paused at the door to your balcony, his hand frozen on the handle before he turned his head back to you. “Since you offered…can I take that hot milk to go?” he wondered.

That had been the first time you had seen the infamous hero, and he was not what you expected at all. The next day there had actually been apology flowers on your doorstep, and you were mildly afraid to see Nightwing actually knew you by name if the card in the midst of the blooms was anything to go by. It happened more often after that, you’d see him at random hours slipping by the buildings’ opposite, sometimes just perched on the complex across from you watching your building. He had had the audacity to actually wave at you once from his perch, and then came the clincher to your deal.

He slipped into Dick Grayson’s apartment one night.

You had sat down and spent a whole afternoon mulling it over, trying to piece together your limited knowledge of your enigmatic neighbour. It had taken you a very short time while you cooked some pasta for lunch to realise you actually knew very little about him. It came down to the following list:

1.      Dick Grayson never seemed to sleep.

2.      If (and this was a very big if) he was one of the few good cops in the city, then he did care about justice.

3.      He had the same sort of physique and build as Nightwing did.

4.      Those blue eyes were startling and you’d be damned if you hadn’t seen them through his mask for that split second he hadn’t shielded his irises with some fancy tech.

5.      He was Bruce Wayne’s ward, he probably had some sort of account or trust fund that had more money in it than you would ever earn in your entire life and was therefore financially well suited to run a vigilante operation.

You didn’t want to sound crazy and ask him outright but the more you thought about it the more suspicious it all seemed to be, so you started an investigation of your own. You forced yourself to stay awake and sat in the dark in your living room, a hot mug of coffee in hand as strong as you could make it. Given how easy it was too watch him leave and return in full armour that night you wondered how truly dumb the criminals of Blüdhaven had to be not to notice that your neighbour was the hero they all feared so much. It really hit you then. Dick Grayson was Nightwing. Nightwing was Dick Grayson.

Your neighbour was freakin’ Nightwing!

And he never seemed to sleep. Did that mean he didn’t eat either? There weren’t enough hours in the day for him to be a full-time cop, vigilante and regular human being was there? Where did he fit in dinner? You rarely saw him bring in proper groceries but there were plenty of takeout pizzas in the recycling you noticed. You were already up and moving towards the kitchen before you fully processed the thought, keyed up on caffeine and mild shock with a recipe book as your weapon. You practically emptied your cupboards, but two hours later you had a lasagne all prettily made up in one of those disposable foil baking trays you didn’t mind him tossing away when he was done with it. You stared at your masterpiece with a grin, knowing Dick would easily get three to four portions out of it, if not more, and yet as you set the covered tray on the doorstep, complete with instructions on how to cook it through, you couldn’t help but feel terribly nervous suddenly.

Most likely it was caffein withdrawal but you couldn’t help but wonder what Dick would think of the gesture. He seemed quite amiable, when you greeted one another in the parking lot or the halls but cooking him dinner was something else. What if he figured out you knew his secret? Would he be angry? Had you made the whole thing up in a caffeine induced high? You couldn’t honestly be sure but you tried not to think too hard about it as you turned on your heel and left. Part of you expected the knock on the door that came later that night but it did little to help your queasy stomach as you peered through the peep hole.

Dick stood in his uniform, looking down at your lasagne with an unidentifiable expression on his face as he waited for you to answer the door, and damn did he look good. The shirt was form fitting and he stood tall, hat tucked under his arm and messy black hair falling about his face till he raked it back. You unlocked the door with a gulp.

“Hi.”

“Hi…so er, I don’t suppose you saw who put this on my doorstep did you?” he questioned, holding out the lasagne. A weak laugh escaped you as you rubbed the back of your neck, feeling a hot flush overcome you in your embarrassment.

“Nope, no clue, maybe old Mrs-“

“Why exactly are you lying?” Dick looked thoroughly amused at your attempt. You blamed your caffeine withdrawal ad lack of sleep. Usually you were a lot better at spinning tales, it was a bit of a necessity after all in Blüdhaven, but something about the dashing officer before you turned you all defences to mush.

“I just…I don’t think you ever have time to eat,” You folded your arms, a stubborn glare settling on your face, “So don’t you dare give it back.” Dick tilted his head, a cheeky spark in his blue eyes and pearly white teeth flashing in the fluorescent light of the hallway. You weren’t sure you liked that look.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, I haven’t had a proper cooked meal in a while. Since I’ve got you here…how would you feel about sharing it with me?” Dick wondered. You blinked in shock. Dick Grayson was asking you to share dinner with him. Dick Grayson, ward of Bruce Wayne, one of the few good cops in the city, Nightwing himself, was asking you to share dinner with him!

“Actually I’d really like tha-“ you paused, head turning to check your corkboard beside the fridge. Your expression fell and your so did your stomach. You had had the perfect opportunity to get to know him better than! To maybe talk about what he did! You couldn’t deny you were curious.

“But?” Dick guessed, his smile waning to something sadder. You got the impression his life didn’t really give him time to be all that social and he was a little lonely living like he did.

“But my shift starts at six.” You sighed. Dick chuckled.

“Of course…well, thanks anyway, maybe another time?” he suggested. You nodded before you could even process what he was asking properly, heart jolting a bit in your chest. It wasn’t everyday your attractive neighbour insinuated he’d like to eat with you after all, but how you were supposed to match your own ever-changing timetable to his was a mystery to you. Weeks passed the same way, with you leaving a variety of goods on Dick’s doorstep and him saving you a piece of your own work to heat up for yourself, but never did you manage to eat together. It took a grand total of three weeks before, by some miracle, Dick climbed out of his vehicle the same time you did yours. You stayed at one another cross the lot as the sky cracked above you, the deafening roar of thunder followed by the first few fat drops of rain hammering the ground. You both hurried to the front door of the complex, Dick reaching into his pocket for his keys as he went so he could let you both in.

“Wet night, huh?” you said, pulling your hood back from your head. Dick hummed.

“Complete wash out,” he agreed, holding up a pizza box between you, “Perfect occasion to just, not go out right? Can I interest you in some pepperoni?” You grinned.

“It come with garlic bread?”

“Er, no.” Dick admitted, looking sheepish now. Your eyes rolled.

“Good job I keep spare in the freezer then isn’t it? I’ll be round in fifteen when it’s cooked.” You told him. You could hear Dick laughing as you walked away towards the elevator, and you wasn’t sure if it was because you were cooking for him yet again, or if the smile on your face was just that infectious.

#batman #batman fanfiction #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #blüdhaven #batfam

[lideria]

Wayfaring. | Winter.

➥ characters: genderneutral!reader, mark, johnny, jaehyun, yuta, taeyong, haechan; to be added

➥ genre: apocalyptic!au (apocalypse based on the game “the last of us”), very much angsty, kind of action-y, sad, sometimes fluff 

➥ warnings: violent themes, blood&gore (detailed depictions), gun use, mentions of killing/m*rder, mentions of s*icide, depictions of corpses, swearing, zombies ofc, i would like to guess that that’s it but please contact me if there is anything i need to add, and as always English is not my first language so if there are any errors, please excuse me!

➥ word count: 19.3k

➥ summary: every little thing you had, had been built and preserved in the pool of nothingness. and now, you lost it all.

➥ author’s note: !!PLEASE READ!! hoping after all this time that i’ve not posted this doesn’t get taken off the tags. after much thinking i decided to make this big story a series, because i’m pretty positive the overall product will be over 60k words. this is the 1st part and there will be 3 parts. to make it a bit more meaningful, i’ll be releasing the winter part now (in winter for where i live), spring part in mid-spring (possibly around april), and summer in again, around mid-summer. the playlist will also be revealed then. i am hungry for feedback, any and all is much appreciated! also, i’m not over tlou still haha fu- there’s also going to be a taglist since the updates will be so slow, so please drop by my asks if you like it and i’ll gladly add you to the taglist!

➥ taglist: @nct-writers

i hope everyone enjoys this, have a great morning/day/evening/night!

The night was freezing cold.

You walk through the streets of a mix of stone and wooden buildings, lights mostly dim because of the scarce population. Most of the people were at the city square. They were laughing and dancing the night away as groups of people sang for them with the old, occupied instruments that belonged to who-knows-who all those years ago when all of this first started. ‘This’ as in survival of the fittest, as some would say. And from what science could explain, a fungal infection that took over the brain and body that eats away at your tissues until it has completely taken over your motor functions and skin, and can spread its spores to others freely. An infection that could basically ‘zombify’ and fungi-ify people.

That is what everybody who has experienced the outbreak day would tell you, at least.

Being born into it is apparently easier, that is what the older adults tell. Because people have it figured out, there are communities like the one you are in; nobody has to roam around alone and lose so many people in the process. You did not agree to that. Nothing was easier, except for maybe gathering the knowledge of handy survival skills.

Perhaps living in a community was easier, as well. You loved it. You specifically loved your community. The stone and wooden houses, the olden cafés and restaurants, actual electricity that was not a thing outside of the gates, fairy lights hanging across porches and roofs, kids and bicycles around, horses, elderly people. Schools. A whole cinema and market places. People who were hunters, people who were guards, people who were wanderers, people who were recruiters; people who had the luxury of just being parents or students or more. And people, perhaps after seeing the world fire up and fall apart, were filled with love towards each other. Compassion, respect; a lot of things that the outsiders did not have. For the most part, of course. Evil was still a thing even within the community.

You smile at the children hurrying towards the square with a few apples in their hands, laughing and skipping around with joy— one of them waving at you as they pass you by. You wave at them as well, chuckling at one of the boys’ claims on how he will make a run for the sugar in the cafeteria so they can caramelize them.

This is why you love it. Even though it is hard.

Just as snow starts to fall from the sky that was clear with visible stars just moments ago, you take your last turn and make your way to your destination. The light shines from their porch and emphasizes their house as you pick your pace up with your boots that are crunching the asphalt that is too old for its own good, cracked and overgrown with the unkempt vegetation.

And surely enough, he is there. You cannot see him clearly since his silhouette’s too dark with the light hitting from behind, but there is only one person who can be as tall in that household even when they are doubled over.

Not making eye-contact even once as you approach the house, you take big strides through their garden and get on the porch. He does not turn to you and opts to stay silent, still doubled over with his elbows placed on the somewhat high fence. You do the same and let out a huff; a laugh too airy and low to be considered one. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

Johnny smiles, still not meeting your eyes. “I freaked out.”

“Over a kiss?” One more huff. “Sounds nothing like the Johnny I know.”

“Yeah,” He nibbles on his lip a little, and smiles at their neighbor whose kitchen window is just across their porch that is grabbing a glass of water in greetings. “I just don’t like the idea of kissing someone and having it not mean anything anymore. Feel like I’ve passed that stage.”

Your eyes lock on a star in particular when he turns his head to look at you. “Reasonable,” You let out nodding your head. A witty smile creeps up onto your face at that second, and you turn to look at him also. “I guess it comes with growing old.”

That makes him giggle and playfully punch you on the side of your shoulder, prompting you to let out an ow, motherfucker, because he is too strong for his own damn good and he seems to never realize that. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You brush him off, massaging the side of your shoulder, the smile still on your face. “Tell me though, was the kiss good? It looked good.”

His brows furrow in unfiltered concern. “You watched me kiss?”

“Well if you just adhere onto someone’s lips like they glued you to each other in front of the bar I’m trying to get a drink from, Johnny, I’m kind of obligated to see it for like a second at the least.” He laughs at your ramble and breaks the furrow of his brows. As if he is defeated, he nods at the end a little. “It was amazing.”

“Oh so it’s like that,” You lean into him, hardly containing your giggle. “What does that mean?” He asks back with his own smile still on his face, clearly amused. Your eyebrows furrow this time albeit not seriously. “You damn well know what that means.”

Johnny sighs. Long and deep. Then, he speaks. “I love you, you know. You’re the best annoyer I never would’ve asked for.”

At that you chuckle, letting your shoulders shake with the force of it. “Good thing they didn’t ask you then.”

He does not say anything after that for a while. The two of you stand in silence, you looking at the stars and him looking at the street— or maybe the overgrown plants, you do not know. He fiddles with his calloused hands slightly, and it is only then that you realize that the house is much quieter than how it usually is. His parents must still be at the square, even though you have not seen them at all that day.

That night, to be more honest. During the day it was not really like you could see a lot of the folk.

Johnny must have somehow read your mind, because he speaks up again with only a heavy huff. “I heard about this morning,” His gaze is directed at you again. You break your smile and lean further, letting your head drop lower to the fence as you sigh yourself. One of your hands instinctively go to your face and to the spot where everything aches right on your cheekbone, tracing over the few burn scratches you got when you fell onto the ground. “It was nothing.”

“That wouldn’t have been believable even if I hadn’t known you.” He stands upright then. You see his hands come into your vision before they pick your arms off the fence and force you to straighten up as well. He inspects your face for a bit, tracing your red spots and scratches with his fingertips, and frowns. “Sometimes I think you’re a bit too careless.” Johnny mumbles just above a whisper, making you smile. Not particularly with happiness or being flattered, but something rooted more from embarrassment. “You say that a lot.”

“Yeah, because I want you to come home in one piece.” He takes his hands off of your face. “So you can finally get it on with Jaehyun.”

He immediately receives a shove to his chest and full on laughs at that, watching your pissed off face that is rather scary for anybody else. After years of knowing you ever since you first walked into this place only with another survivor, coming from a smaller settlement that went to absolute chaos, Johnny could not ever fear you. Fear you in a respectful sense, yes, absolutely. Because he has seen what you are capable of doing outside to survive. And in actuality, it is not the capability that made him fear you in that respectful sense; it is that he has seen you melt into the nature of it all, sometimes losing yourself in the things that surround you and the things you are feeling. Johnny has always differentiated himself from everything, so seeing that was what made him fear you.

The very same things made people fear you, as well. A lot of people stayed away from you, which always made him feel bad. He found it extremely admirable that as a teenager you were able to look for a settlement without any guardians and with only a companion, even though your earlier settlement was not too far from the city. At the same time, he could not fear you knowing how you can get with people when you care about them. He had learnt about it all first-hand when he was the first to approach you at the grey and distressing identification center after you arrived, after his parents encouraged him to ask you over for dinner, after visiting you many times at the lonely dorms and helping you fall asleep by tiring you out with his jokes and conversations, after helping you move into your own place when you were old enough, after going on patrols with you and much, much more.

“You’re disgusting, does anybody ever tell you that?” Your annoyed voice almost echoes to his ears after the many shouted singings and overall shouts he had heard that night. “The word you’re looking for would be ‘teasing’ and I just know it’s on the way. That relationship is long overdue.”

“Hey!” A familiar voice interrupts your bickering, and when you turn to the direction it is coming from, you see Yuta just behind the fence. He climbs up a bit and hangs off the railing, not fully climbing onto the porch. “Hey, man. Why don’t you just come to the porch?”

Yuta holds a hand up and waves it around, and both you and Johnny fear that he will fall down with only one hand on the fence helping him sling over, so you both take a step towards him in a hurry. But he does not fall and places his hand back. “I’ll just go home. I’m very cold and kinda drunk.”

Johnny mumbles a we can see that under his breath, but he cannot say it louder because Yuta points a finger at you, prompting you to take another step. “You are patrolling with me tomorrow.”

You finally get a hold of his arm and Johnny takes care of the other one, so now his feet are planted to the ledge of the porch and you two are basically holding a whole grown man up on his feet. That does not hold you back from complaining, though. “What, why? I was out just today.”

The drunken man shrugs. “Don’t know why you, but I think I saw Jaehyun sign your name up with us.”

A closed-mouthed snicker comes from Johnny at Yuta’s words and you snap your head at him, looking into his eyes, warning him not to do the very thing he is doing right now and to shut up about it afterwards. “Fine, I’ll come with you tomorrow.”

“You didn’t exactly have a choice.”

The knock on your door wakes you up the next morning.

Groggy a little from drinking the night before, and from the soreness of your face, you are not the happiest when you open the door up to greet Yuta and Jaehyun. They are standing on the thick snow that has covered the ground overnight, all equipped up and ready to go. The two of them look noticeably more content as well whereas you are just there basically ready to beg them to let you sleep some more. Actually, ready to beg them to leave you alone altogether.

You could really use a day off after falling face-first to the concrete yesterday. It has been long since you have had a day off anyway. Lately it was either you were going out on a patrol or sweep, or you were training the new recruits and the volunteers. You kind of did not remember the concept of sleeping in at this point.

“I would say good morning, but your morning looks far from any of that.” Yuta says in an annoyingly bright tone, and then he points at your face. “Your face didn’t swell up. I don’t know if you can tell, but that’s magical.”

Your fingers reach up to your sore cheekbone once again. Yuta is all true, there is no swelling up although it hurts so bad still as if you had not cleaned it up, when you did. Multiple times. “Just come in. I’ll wash up and grab my coat.”

They walk in when you hold the door open for them and scoot to the side, and make their way to your couch, plopping down on it without any care. You make your way to the bathroom in silence and quickly wash your mouth and face, only bothering to change your clothes because you see a change hanging over the shower cabin. After doing so you hurry over to your wardrobe in your room and grab your coat along with your gear, and make your way to the pair of boots you had been wearing for quite long. You ask your question while you are struggling with putting them on. “Why are we going out anyway? I thought every spot was clear.”

“Someone said that the crops are dead already outside the walls,” Jaehyun answers. “Means the winter’s coming faster and harder. And that means herds may come in faster. Taeyong just wants to make sure nothing’s out of control.” Which does make sense that him and the council would decide on something like that, especially after the chaos that was a couple of years ago. Uncontrollable increase in infected meant uncontrollable increase in herds moving around, and that meant uncontrollable fullness of areas, which meant hunting for supplies were almost halted, which meant there was a serious shortage in supplies. “Plus, we’re running low on medicine. So if we find any on the way,”

“Yeah, okay.” You nod as you let your foot fall after tying the last knot. “Is it only us three?”

“No,” Yuta jumps at the question, almost. “Donghyuck’s coming as well. Said he needs to let off some steam.”

“Why?” You chuckle. He looked dandy fine last night at the square, warming himself up by the fire and chatting and laughing with people. “I heard they fought with Mark.” Jaehyun, once again, answers.

“Again?” Grunting as you wear your coat, you zip it up before opening the door and holding it out once more. The boys stand up and walk towards the door. “Why can’t they keep their stuff to themselves?” You laugh, dearly hoping this fight is not another one feisty enough to keep them from talking to each other for months.

“Wouldn’t know.” Jaehyun mumbles, and waits for you to close your door before starting to walk with you. You smile at the close proximity he keeps with you as you two walk behind Yuta, following him to the stables near the big metal gates through the lively streets.

Donghyuck is already waiting for you when you arrive. He complains about his horse being taken by someone else first thing when he spots your group, prompting the stable staff to laugh behind him, presumably at the fact that he is not complaining that he will be going out for a patrol in the freezing cold, no, but that he is complaining about ‘his’ horse that is technically not his being taken away. He does not really bother to greet you as well. It is a common theme with him, so you do not take offense.

Once you are handed your horses over to you, you make your way to the gates, holding them from their reins— just in case if they ever get freaked out from the sounds the gates decide to make.

You spot a familiar face at the gate. Walking over to him is basically an instinct. “Hey,”

“Hi.” Mark smiles at you, and pets your horse on the nose a little.

Mark is important to you.

He is the person that has accompanied you on your way here after your last settlement got raided by a large group of people that belonged to a community called Nox— the largest community ever established after everything went wrong with the world, and the most developed, as well. Their recruiting process was very disciplined, they had spread all over the country in years and mostly aimed specifically for the big cities, which allowed them to have plenty of resources and people with ‘greater’ professions (like doctors, scientists, military officials, agents, anything that was deemed to be handy in an apocalypse) in their communities.

That had been what happened. It was supposed to be a recruitment, but once people denied to be a part of them and stood up for themselves, they did not like that. At least the branch that they had sent out did not like that.

Your settlement was up in flames by the time you and Mark made it out of there. The night had brightened up as if it was the morning.

Then, it was a month full of almost-dying. The two of you had been out of your settlement before, but not for long periods where you also had to look for some place that would take you. Infected wanted to get you, and if they did not, it was the people. Sometimes they would take you in for a short while, letting you use their resources before changing their paths and letting you go with a bit of a help; maybe weaponry, maybe food, maybe medicine.

Mark and you would have to find hiding spots and places to sleep, and a lot of the times you would just make do with sleeping under a vehicle in the cold in unpopulated areas. Although hard to believe, those spots were one of the least visible and most secure.

The two of you had saved each other perhaps countless times from dying. You were not friends before you ran away from your settlement. You did not exactly know a lot about each other beforehand, only acquainted as a familiar face you would see on the street. Yet when you ended up together, you cared about each other so unexpectedly much.

After you came to the city, though, it had changed a lot. They put you on schedules and dorms and houses that mostly did not go with each other, so the communication had broken— except for slight communication through Johnny who was your middle ground with his role of being a mutual friend. The sheer care you had for each other had stayed the same, though. It would have been difficult to let go of that.

“What happened to your face?” Mark asks and instinctively reaches out for it, making you hiss when his fingers come into contact with the sore red spot. He immediately retracts. “I fell.”

His brows furrow as if he is not believing it, so you laugh to calm him down. “No, I really fell. Planted face first onto the concrete.” That makes him chuckle, but his brows are still furrowed. “Of course you’d do that.”

Mark takes a deep breath. “You have everything you need?”

Someone shouts from behind, one of the watches. “Herd patrol, open the gates!”

“Yeah, I do.” You answer him, and he smiles a bit more reassuringly. “Be safe out there. Let me see you from the gate when you come back.”

There is the screeching sound that the gates do whenever they open that would surely attract some infected if there were any of them around, so you could only hope there were not. Your hold on the rein gets tighter when your horse gets a bit agitated from it. “I’m coming back and you know it, Mark.” Smirking, you step on the foot hold and mount onto the saddle.

He says only one thing before he lets you go. “I do.”

Outside the gates could have been just as pretty as it always was if it was not for the thick snow that coated everywhere and made it hard to travel.

Underneath the thick cover of snow would be overgrown grass and wild plants and flowers that definitely were made to not be natives of the land before any of this had happened, but were now claiming their home to themselves and growing freely without any control. You did not know what most of the plants or flowers even were, even though they had taught you back in school— but you knew you would never be a farmer or a wanderer. You knew you would never have to rely on that knowledge so giving up on it was pretty much an instant thing.

Above the snow, though, were pines and willows thriving in the humid cold. Corkscrew willows, narrow leaf willows and glaucous willows were painting the very much white and grey scenery some lighter shades of green and pink, glistening with the snow sitting on them when the silver but blinding sunlight hit their surface.

You were pretty much on watch the whole time as the possibility of a herd passing through occupied your mind. There were the occasional wildlife passing through the valley, mostly rabbits, dogs and squirrels, and the occasional deer. They run around, sometimes passing under the horses or too close to them and scaring them a bit off. It was nothing that you could not take care of though.

Through a mutual agreement, you go to the town first since it is a good distance away from the city still and is one of the places that is sure to have any signs of a herd if they are coming in. That was because there were not a lot of traces of the infection since there is no people that still live in that town, and the infected would just roam through to potentially find a host.

Some of them would just die on their own from the cold and spew out spores in hopes of reaching something. They usually did not.

When you are in the Western-looking, red and brown brick-borne town, you divide the sections and go your separate ways. You probably would not have done that had the entrance of the town been crowded, but it had not been anything close to that. Yuta insists on his advice for all of you to do everything as quietly as you can just in case, and you all seem to agree on that, considering this is only a patrol and not a sweep and you do not have that much ammo.

The South of the town was mostly empty to your delight. Definitely more crowded than how it usually was this time of the year, but nothing you could not take care of. You did not even have to waste too much of your ammo taking out the infected that were already there— ones mostly freshly infected. Runners, who could still see you and who could still run and who still looked like humans except for their blood covered mouth and hands. They looked alive. They grunted, they made humanly noises, they twitched in their place. It almost looked like whoever they used to be was still inside them and was trying to fight that damn thing off.

It made your blood go cold at the thought every single time.

Once you are done with the infected you could see so far by the help of your trusted stealth skills and dagger and only some of your ammo, you check on a couple of buildings that were on your list that had not been explored yet. But after being open for anybody to come and loot year after year, there was not much that you could find. Some rubbing alcohol hiding away in a stash of unusable supplies, some canned food that were very suspiciously still not out of date, and a few more things. Nothing too useful.

Within a bit over a couple of hours at the least, you make it back to your meeting point at the main street of the entrance, the supplies stacked behind your horse and on the board she was equipped with that would help her in being able to drag everything comfortably. To your relief, everyone is already there, and there are no infected in sight. “Anything useful?” Jaehyun asks, and you shake your head.

“I could get some rubbing alcohol and some gas for the generators, but that’s about it.” Yuta nods at your words. “Same here— except I found this stash of ammo and some meds, but I didn’t take any of it.”

Donghyuck glares at him with an obviously visible amount of anger in his eyes, which makes Yuta further explain himself. “I don’t want to mess with them if they’re a trespasser. I’ll give it a week, and if it’s still there then, I’m just gonna dive in because the prick had some good stuff in there.” He sighs. “I also left a note, saying you’re kind of fucked, friend, because the herd’s coming. Told them to head down to the river following the valley and that the place with working lights and big metal gates would welcome them if they’re smart about it.”

Sometimes Yuta could be extremely innocent, wanting to believe everyone is good, but he had something about him where most of these people he left notes for would actually turn out to be decent people that would join your community. So you could only hope whoever this was would be the same. “That is so sweet of you, but I think some of the herd is already here.” Donghyuck says, and all of you turn your heads to him. “You know the hotel half of it’s said farewell? It was flooded with infected. Of all kinds.”

“Sounds like a fucking dream.” Jaehyun murmurs, kicking around the snow a bit with his boots, looking down. You lay a supportive hand on his forearm. “Sweepers will be lucky though. Some of them are loaded with stuff— backpacks on and everything.”

But his words still hold a heavy weight to them, because these poor souls just did not survive for as long as they planned for. And it makes you wonder, wonder if they were alone or in a group, moving or not moving, had a family or not, had friends or not; what was their original plan? Did they even have a plan, or did everything just happen when they were hidden away in somewhere?

“I found a safe, like a whole dark room,” Jaehyun says. “Inside an apartment. I guess they were a pharmacist or a doctor or something— there are a lot of bottles and boxes of medicine and compounds. And I hardly think they belong to anyone at this point because the door lock was literally rotting away.”

“You think it’s okay to take?” Donghyuck asks Yuta, who nods promptly. “Let’s not take all of it just yet, though. Leave it for the next patrol or the sweepers, they can get the remainder later.”

And then he clears his throat. “Why don’t you two go ahead?”

You two. Jaehyun and you.

Before you know it, you are already sent that way and are trotting your way down to the apartment with your horses. The apartment is definitely not close to the meeting point, especially had you been on foot, but with trotting your way down it was much easier to access. You see the infected Jaehyun has taken down, and again, most of them were Runners; the only explanation you could come up with was that the actual herd had had a feast in another settlement or an area ridden with survivor groups, and since they are Runners they can move faster which is why they are already here with the cold. Basically that they are the herd before the herd.

You dismount when you arrive at the brick and brown, dirty looking building and follow Jaehyun up the stairs that by some miracle do not just collapse, watching him easily open up the doors after having broken into them.

Like he said, the room is there, mostly dark but only lit when its door is open and light spills in through the shutters, and it really is packed with medical supplies.

“I randomly inspected some of them, most of it’s not out of date yet.” You nod at him when he looks at you. “Okay.”

But something genuinely pisses you off. It has been pissing you off for some time, so the only thing you can do is confront him when you are alone. “Jaehyun,”

“Yeah?” He kneels onto the floor and starts inspecting things again, placing some of them into the bag he had grabbed from the side of the saddle before you made your way in. You kneel in front of him and sigh, looking down at his hands and spotting the slightly scarred knuckles. Probably from subconsciously pushing on doors while breaking in. “I know it was weird a few nights ago because everyone was around, but it’s weirder right now because you have a thing where you go awkward and quiet when you feel that way,” His eyes bore into yours. “And I really can’t stand that,” You let out an airy chuckle, and he kind of smiles as well. “So either kiss me like you mean it next time or never do and let us stay as friends.”

It was supposed to be a basic thing.

Jaehyun had kissed you a few nights ago at a movie screening. He had asked you to watch the old sci-fi movie with him, and had waited for you in front of the cinema, stuck between the crowds of people of all ages. Throughout the movie you had just whisper-chatted back and forth, almost none of your attention on any of the scenes even when they got louder. The topics of your chats had been lighthearted and fun as well, gossiping a bit about your friends and telling each other about funny encounters you recently had with people around the city or outside. Sometimes the chats were about the movie, with questions of what would you do if you were living in that universe instead of this one, which one would you prefer and more, debating on the questionable answers; throwing your dried and seasoned corn at each other if either of you thought the other had absolutely ran out of any sanity.

After the screening he had just asked you if he could kiss you as if it was the most normal thing he could ask, saying he could not wait any more, and you had let him because the mutual attraction had been there for too long and you wanted him to kiss you just as much as you had been wanting to kiss him.

But he had gotten shy about it— crowds were never Jaehyun’s thing, and that was fine. The thing that was not fine was how he acted around you for days after that, quiet and somewhat cold and awkward, when you were okay with it all and had expected him to make a move last night at the square.

He breathes out a laugh through his nose and looks down, playing with his hangnails and the traces of the rein that is left on his fingers, not deep but definitely visible still and a bit pink around the outlines. He smiles under his nose, you can see it because the lines of light that hits his face illuminate the side of his lips that is curled up, and when he picks his head up and the lines hit his brown eyes, you are smiling too.

Because Jaehyun places his hand at the back of your neck and kisses you.

Firmly, with care, and like nobody else is there— there is nobody there, but this time it feels like even if there were people he would have been fine with it. He lets you place your hands on the spots between his chest and shoulders, and lets you pull him further down with ease, spreading his other hand that is holding you on your back to give you better support. He opens his mouth first for you, maybe to show he is meaning this and he means so much more, and you give into it. That goes on for a while with hands roaming wherever they can. You only come back to your senses when his teeth scratch your bottom lip.

He stops when your hands push against him lightly. “Any longer and Yuta will never let this die down.”

Nibbling on his lip with his teeth, Jaehyun huffs a smile and nods. “He really won’t.” And he leans in again, only pecking you this time.

Johnny and his predictions that gave you the bravery and encouragement to do these kinds of things could go fall face first onto the concrete.

The rest of the patrol and getting back to the city go almost seamless, except for the fact that you had to pass by a couple of groups of infected— some Runners who had spotted you and alerted the Clickers (one of the older stages of infected where the infection has taken over most of their skin and has made its way out, taking over their eyes and using echolocation with the clicking sounds that comes from their throats) with the sound they made. They caused a bit of a hassle, but nothing you could not take care of; not with Jaehyun’s quick bow skills as you galloped through the occupied areas of the valley and all of your leftover ammo. “You’re losing a lot of arrows, don’t you think?” Donghyuck asks Jaehyun, shouting a bit out of breath since the galloping motion is taking a toll on him.

Jaehyun pulls the reins to himself harshly. “Yeah,” His horse halts without any discomfort, and you see him from the corner of your eye before he is left behind. “I’ll meet you at the gate!”

And he starts galloping to the opposite way.

If it was anybody else, any and most probably all of you would have started screaming some sense into him. But it was Jaehyun. Whose way of doing things outside, although stealthy, was very impulsive. So you do not take your gaze away from the road ahead of you, locking your eyes on the city just now visible as you make your way down.

It is already dusk by the time you are at the gates and the watches see you, asking where the hell Jaehyun is and offering to open the gates when Yuta tells them he is collecting his arrows back from a small area, so he should be back any minute. All of you agree that you do not want the gates to open before he comes so the noise does not attract anything more than it needs to.

Just as you expect, the missing person of your quad comes sooner than later. A proud smile is on his face as he goes on about being able to get back five of the seven arrows he had used, waiting for all of you to make your ways in before walking in himself.

“We have some gas and some meds,” You tell the watch who is there the second you walk in, to unleash the supplies behind your horse. “With plenty of infected on the side.” Donghyuck adds, too upbeat for the news he is delivering. One of the gatekeepers is quite mortified to hear that which is why he feels inclined to add more to his words. “Not a dooming amount, but we definitely need a few sweeps. It’d be worse if the herd caught up to them.”

“Why don’t you just go tell that to Taeyong?” Mark cuts in, and you can immediately tell how irritated Donghyuck gets. His face gets red, his eyes drop and squint, and he completely forgets about getting off his horse which all of you do at that point. “Oh would you look at that,”

Mark tries to hold a snicker in, you can tell, because his lips curl inwards. “It’s almost as if that’s not exactly what I was about to do. Fucking asshole.”

Mark finally gives in then, letting his shoulders shake when he greets you, giggling. He tries to check if you have any bites since it is a procedure he needs to do, but he cannot do it effectively with how much he is giggling— which was fine, because he could very clearly see you did not have any bites. None of your clothes were torn, and your face, hands and neck that was not covered up was just very visibly in quite okay condition.

“I’m having dinner at Johnny’s tonight,” You tell Mark as he lets go of your hands, making him pick his head up. “Just saying.”

“I’ll see if I can pay a visit.”

You smile at him and make your way over to Jaehyun, letting him put an arm around your shoulders and walk away with you, planting a kiss on the side of your head.

He does pay a visit.

The night is pierced through with Mark’s laughter when Johnny’s mouth drops open. He stops mindlessly strumming his guitar when it takes over him. “Dude, I’m telling you,” He says between his laughs. “They didn’t even look at each other when they were leaving, and somehow they were all lovey-dovey by the time they got back.”

“Fuck you,” Johnny nudges you rather hard in your side, and this time you are snickering along with Mark just at the sight of his face. “You called me creepy when I knew all along.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Johnny. I apologize for not crediting you enough on your talent of predicting relationships.” Your smile dies down a little after that, and your voice goes a bit quieter with the confusion. “Well I don’t know if it’s a relationship yet. It just happened, sort of.”

Johnny shrugs at that and puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him on the couch with one of your legs dangling over and one of them propped up. “That’s fine. You guys can let it brew for a bit more. Just test the waters.” A breath of a chuckle makes its way out of your nose at his words and how the high you had felt a few hours ago had crashed down into this weird oblivion, but Mark nods in agreement.

You do not see it, but Johnny smiles down at you while you fix your eyes on the photographs on his wall. Some of his, some of his parents’, some of his newborn days— the final days just before the infection started taking all over the country and the world. There are a few with you and Mark, too, a couple of them looking downright awkward with Mark and you too numb to the friendship he was offering you after coming to the brink of death maybe tens or maybe hundreds of times, and another couple of them where the photos are just blurry with how much you were laughing and it made steadying his parents’ old camera harder.

He turns his head to the opposite side, facing Mark. “You got any sick raps, Mark?”

“What is that question?” Mark howls out, laughing his chest off like he always does. “When you say it like that I don’t wanna rap ever again.”

But he does, because Mark is like that.

Johnny and you do your best in hyping him up, shouting and howling and springing in your place to the beat of his lyrics. You two let him rap until he really does not feel like it anymore, and you listen to him when he goes back to strumming his guitar, softly singing some things every now and then. So quietly that you almost do not even hear it.

The night goes on like that. You just lounge around, Johnny between you and Mark, cozy and warm.

If there was anything about them two, it was that they made you feel normal somehow. Which is maybe why you cherished them so much, and what the three of you have.

Unfortunately, you wake up early once again in your own room in the morning even though you do not have any reason to.

There are some upsides to that when you have the day off, as much as you hate it. You get to take a shower with all cold, yet much appreciated water, and properly change your clothes into new ones after a long while, to make a breakfast with what you have stored away in your cupboards, and maybe even do laundry if you had any leftover homemade soap.

Sometimes you paid a visit to the dorms, checking up on lonely recruits if there were any that you had grown some kind of attachment to.

That morning you do all of that, too. You get your hair and body feeling and looking all clean, eat somewhat of a nutritious breakfast that is much better when compared with just going with an all empty stomach, change into some of your newest clothes that Johnny and Jaehyun had gifted you once after an outing for hoarding. Except while you are making your way to the dorms just to check on the newest recruits, you stumble upon a group of people lining in front of the entrance to the stables.

Your interest peaks when you spot Johnny, who is writing his name down on the board at the gates that open to the place. You hurry over to him as best you can in your still sleepy state. “Morning,”

He hears you but does not bother to turn his head to look at you, knowing you would come to stand next to him. “Hey.”

As expected, you halt when you are there. You look at his name on the board and his signature along with the date, and you know for a fact he is going out. “Sweep?”

“Yeah,” He lends the pen to the person next to him, and moves out of the line, prompting you to move away with him. “Signing up last minute. Taeyong and Yuta can’t make it out today, so.”

“Why?” You furrow your brows, and he shrugs a little. “Yuta’s needed at the training grounds today, and who knows what Taeyong has to take care of.”

He watches you as you sigh, truly tired of it, but the inner conflict is louder than any type of exhaustion you could possibly have. “Well I’m coming with you.”

When you try to walk into the line he steps in front of you, and puts a stop to whatever madness you are planning. His hands physically stop you as well as he places them on your shoulders. “No you aren’t,” Johnny’s voice is firm, and his brows are furrowed just slightly. “You need a day off. Your whole face looks purple with the cold, the lack of sleep, and the scar— and you look awful.”

He smiles then as if he had not just dragged the way you look all over the floor. “Just go and relax. Maybe spend some time with Jae, hm?”

You bite down on the insides of your lips and nibble on them, and furrow your eyebrows at the squeeze of your heart. “Just do me a favor and be careful. There are a lot of Runners around,” One of your hands come up half-bothered to point at the people in the line. “Tell that to the group as well.”

There is a silence that lasts a couple of seconds, but then Johnny pulls you in for a hug. “You know,” He mumbles. “If you actually talked to more people they’d like you better.” He knew what you would say, that you do not like the stares that people throw at you anywhere and everywhere, and that it stops you from approaching them. So, he stops that from happening before it can. “I’ll take your horse if that will make you feel any better.”

Stepping away from him, you smile and shove him a little. “Take my horse if it will make you feel any more secure, and send her back if your ass can’t make it.”

“Will do.”

Dusk comes, and the sun sets.

Some people do not return that evening, and Johnny is one of them.

Supposedly, his whole group is missing— which is a good thing, because it is not completely uncommon that people camp in some sort of a hide-out if the infected in the area are too much for them to handle with the amount of people they have and they think it is better to wait it out.

Which is why, although bitter, there is hope inside of you.

His parents are distressed when Taeyong comes to tell them the news, and they remain just as distressed afterwards if not more. Whenever you see them, you cannot help but notice how their faces are overborne with concern. Their brows are always furrowed, their mouths are always pointed downwards in a frown, their eyes always glazed over with what looked like thousands of thoughts racing all around, and the wrinkles on their faces are deepened in some areas with the weight and tension.

You grow distressed and restless as well, as hours— days pass. The concept of night and day loses its significance because you are too distracted during the day when you are supposed to be training the recruits, and too uncomfortable during the night rolling all over the bed without a drop of sleep in your eyes.

And it must be not only you that is feeling that way, because Taeyong knocks on your door in the dead of the night a few days after Johnny’s disappearance. When you open the door his arms are crossed over his chest, and he looks a lot paler than he usually is, his eyes red all around.

He gets straight to the point. “You, Yuta, Jaehyun and Mark. I want you to search for them while another group goes for a sweep.” His voice breaks at some point because of how tired he must be feeling and how scared. You nod slightly, the tension pulling and burdening your face. “Okay.”

After your mumbled, quick and short answer Taeyong turns right back on his heel and walks down the stairs of the porch. You cannot bring yourself to close the door just yet when you see him, a friend of a friend but a figure as protective and wise, walk away with his guards clearly down. “You should try and get some sleep,” You advise after him, even though you yourself are suffering from the same problem he is. “What you do matters.”

Taeyong does not slow down, and is out of your sight within seconds after he leaves your backyard.

Next morning, it is as if you had done a mutual agreement between the four of you, because you are all by the stables with the slightest hue of sunlight.

No one is smiling or looking content in any way or shape, but no one is agitated, either. The most healthy thing at that moment is to force yourselves to go numb altogether and you all know it.

With so much as some collective huffs you write your names down on the board and sign in the hand-drawn boxes next to them, being able to see all of the missing people’s names that were out just before you— it was never a pretty situation. The stables are kind of empty from all the horses that are missing as well and it feels weird to not be able to go out with the horse, your horse that you had considered a companion for years on end.

But Anubis, the black horse assigned to you that day, was a good compensation. He was surprisingly comfortable with you from the get-go.

The stable you were in got too empty after all of the search and sweep groups took their horses with only a couple of them left behind, and before you knew it, you were on them and stationed in front of the gate. Handwritten documents were in Yuta’s hands mapping out yesterday’s group’s sweeping locations.

And as he said just before you all mounted on your horses, no one would be parting ways that day.

When the gates open, you immediately start galloping behind the sweepers— they collectively had more ammo than your group, and they were going in the same direction for a while, so they could be some sort of a shield for you if the groups had somehow started moving much faster all of a sudden. Your group would be heading to the settlement just a bit further away from the town you had gone through yesterday; most probably what used to be its business district if any of your predictions were true. The sweepers would be going to the town, figuring the groups that were saturated behind the town must be at its downtown now.

The way up the valley is rather empty, which is almost more unsettling when you think of how many people are missing.

Six, to be exact, counting Johnny.

You try to focus on different things, like how your backside hurts as you gallop upwards and Anubis pants under you. On the fact that he is a rather strong horse and you had never noticed that when anybody else was riding him. How he is maybe the most elevated horse you have ever had, and how his back is very uncomfortable to ride on even with a saddle. How he is very enduring considering he does not slow down in the slightest even after the valley starts getting a little rough, not falling behind any horses and even passing some of them if it was not for you that took him back under control.

It helps you, focusing on him, because you do not want to focus on things that might get your guard down.

The sweepers part their way with you at the point they need to, making a turn for the northeast once you enter the town, letting you pass straight through. Without any goodbyes because you have officially entered the danger zone.

And you truly have, because there are Runners around with not as many Clickers roaming through in the visible distance where the sweepers are headed. You can only internally wish them good luck.

It takes less than an hour to get to the probable business district that is filled with concrete and glass covered buildings unlike the town, overtaken by vegetation (and snow) that has washed over its blues and greys and beiges and the financial personality it once had— again unlike its brown and red brick counterpart.

All of you make your horses come to a halt once you enter the environment, again, just to make sure there is as little noise as possible. Dismounting from them and taking the reins in your hands is an instinct. “Where do we go first?”

Yuta looks down at the papers with Mark’s question. His fingers trace over the words until they find what they are looking for. “Well,” He huffs, placing a hand on his nape with a wince. “They were going to the law firm, the bank in southwest, the city hall and they would meet at the conference hall. They must be around these areas if we’re lucky.”

“And if they’re lucky.” Jaehyun says under his breath, but you hear him loud and clear. And you have a feeling that everybody does.

Yuta drops his hand that is holding the papers and sighs. “The bank’s the farthest one, let’s go.”

They are not at the bank.

Not in the bank, not around the bank, not in the subway station under the bank where there is a hide-out in one of the conductor rooms, not inside the surrounding business buildings all of which have of their doors opened whether it is one of the back/staff doors or the front entrances as if it is an all-you-can-get open buffet of places to roam around for the infected. When in actuality, your people’s strategy is to close the doors and lightly barricade them after coming into any contact, trying to keep as many infected on the roads so it is somewhat easier to wipe them out by narrowing their moving space. It also helped indicating whether there had been any recent trespassers at all, because most people not acquainted with your settlement would not bother with closing the doors behind them as they lost themselves in all the possible places to hoard.

And it all just means that there must have been trespassers recently, making the infected harder to find since they were free to go into the buildings, which must have messed up with the sweeping.

It does not feel right at all.

The law firm which is a rather small building is of no help as well. No alive, normal human is inside, not in any of the five floors that you have to clear out a little or around, and once again the doors are open. All you can find are supplies lying around the fifth floor that are definitely from the city’s storage so you know that they must have stayed for some time there at some point. You take them back. But there is nothing more.

To be truthful about things, none of you had your hopes up about the city hall. It was an extremely open space and was most definitely not the safest in this situation, nor the most resourceful place to hide or camp in anytime— or to hoard things with nothing but once-fancy tiles all over the interior and no leftover supplies from passing groups. However, they would have gone there to check if there was anybody hiding away, because people (especially in groups) who passed through did that since it is a quite distinctive and low building in between all of the higher buildings for those unfamiliar with the area. They would have brought them back to the city if any of them were there. So it does not surprise you when you find the city hall empty as well, except for the sea of infected that swarm the grand entrance to the hall that make your eyes widen and immediately shut the door close when you first open it up. Plus holding onto dear life pushing against the doors with Jaehyun when some of them are attracted to the noise and make a run for it.

Sweep season was the worst season.

Through a mutual agreement, you barricade the doors a little (a lot) tighter with fire truck hoses that have long been detached from the abandoned truck between the hall and one of the high-rise buildings that most probably was sitting there since the outbreak day, where fire trucks were not only used for the countless fires that started especially in the traffic, but also to rescue people stuck in upper floors of buildings that were taken over by the Runners.

There is no way the infected trapped in the hall can open the doors through layers upon layers of a thick hose wrapped and tied around the handles of the entrance, at least you all would like to believe that.

When your heart rate picks up is when you spot a building with its visible doors closed on the way to the conference hall. “Wait.”

Everyone stops, prompting their horses to do the same as them. The guys look at the direction of your gaze, and they all seem to come to a realization. “Do you think-?”

“I think there’s no reason we shouldn’t.” But Yuta does not look too keen on it, so you have to agree further. “There’s something obvious here, and I think it’s an objective point when I say that.”

He nods at that and clears his throat, looking up at the building for a split second. “Is it okay if you search with Mark? Jaehyun and I’ll be here, I kind of need a second thought as I plan out the mapping for if they aren’t here or at the conference hall.”

“That’s fine.” You assure him, and nod your head at Mark. “Let’s go.”

Inside the building is eerily quiet, but brightly lit with the afternoon sun shining through all the glass. You have never been in this building before, at least you do not think so, because the lobby does not ring the slightest bell to you.

There are bodies of infected that are taken out lying all around. They paint the light creme flooring red with their blood, but it is comforting. Because it is for certain that they have been here, at least.

A fire exit door is all that you are looking for, or a staff room that could possibly lead to the stairway, but it takes a bit of an embarrassingly long time for you two to spot anything in the seemingly open-spaced, bright lobby. You come to learn a bit after starting to walk around that the entry to the stairway beside the elevators just outside of the oval lobby is also blocked with something on the other side.

“There’s a crack in the elevator doors,” Mark suggests, and although ladders are the one thing you hate the most, you agree to take them to the upper floors.

It is so dark and humid inside with years upon years of unventilated air, the smell of rust and rot is absolutely disgusting, and you fear that the years-old ladders will break any second with both you and Mark’s weight on them. Not to mention how tiring climbing up a ladder can be for your arms and legs when you hold onto the thin and flimsy metal waiting for the other to separate one of the elevator doors, most of which are rightfully blocked.

On one of the far upper floors, though, there is no blockage, and you can swing yourselves onto the hallway. Which is scary to be honest, especially when you are all this way up and if you miss anything your way down will be met with an old, hard, rusting top of an elevator on your back.

But god bless the planners (maybe their souls) of this place, because the ladder is close to the opening enough that you can swing onto the floor without too much hassle. Neither of you slip after jumping down onto it.

“Do you think,” Mark dusts himself off as if it would help with anything, takes a deep breath in his tired lungs, and rephrases his words. “Do you think they came all the way up here through that?”

“Maybe they blocked the stairway and the doors,” You suggest instead, and it sounds a lot more like the option the two of you would like to believe in. “Right half yours left half mine?”

“Sure.” He answers, and the two of you go your separate ways on the big office floor.

A few doors open to the empty, messy office rooms and you check through the drawers for anything worthy to take back with you even though there is not much of it. One of them provides you with some scissors and lighter liquid, which end up being the most usable things you get out of them. Some doors do not even budge with whatever is blocking your way.

But there is a room at the visible end of the hall where the door will budge, but will not open.

You resort to using your shoulders to break into the room rather quickly. There is not any particularly loud sound coming from behind the thick, polished wooden door, and something about it being left secure but still accessible made you think there must be something behind that door that is useful. Maybe a stash of actually usable supplies or much preferably, anything that leads you to your missing people.

The door opens with your fifth push, and you hear the sound of a broken lock clink on the ground.

You also hear the shriek of a Runner who jumps you immediately after being attracted to the sound.

With the force of your push you have basically thrown yourself into the arms of the Runner which is never a good thing or in any way close to an ideal situation, and you have to duck away by kneeling lower and throwing yourself to the sharp opposite side of where the infected is facing to make sure it does not grab your arms. You take a few steps away but it is just as fast as you are, so you have to use your quick wit and draw out your gun in the blink of your eyes, shooting it in the head— impractically unable to care whether there were any infected on Mark’s side or not because it was either you or whoever they were with the shock and the pace of things.

The mess of a creature falls down with a slump, your heart absolutely racing but also dropping— because as you look down at it you can see that you know who she used to be. You were not friends or even really acquaintances, but you know for a fact that she lives in the city. So you turn back around to the open-planned office with your fast approaching panic and adrenaline.

Which is when you see it.

Johnny, slumped onto the floor, sitting with his legs spread out. Johnny, whose ankle looks broken. Johnny, who has his gun in his hand.

Johnny, who has a bite mark on his exposed right arm where orange-salmon colored fungi is growing out, extending upwards to his shoulders and neck.

Johnny, who has a hole on the left side of his chest, red spatter over the wall behind him, slumped on the floor with fungi growing out of his arm ready to grow all over his glowing skin until he grows into the wall and starts letting out spores.

Johnny, dead.

You do not know if any air makes its way into your lungs. It surely does not feel like it. Your ears ring and your eyes go dark with purple spots all over your vision and you get dizzy and nauseous, but somehow, you stand.

“Mark!” You shout out, surprising yourself, calling and alerting him when you can already hear his fast approaching steps thumping on the floor at the sound of the gun fire. Before barely a few seconds can pass he barges into the room with his gun in his hand but stops when he sees you frozen in place. Then, he follows your gaze.

Even from the side of your eye, it is obvious he flinches. “What the hell happened here?” His voice is not above a whisper.

You look at the less familiar face lying on the ground, and its shoulder. “The bite marks look similar.” There is no sense of stillness in your voice as you speak. “I guess they just locked themselves away,” Teeth grinding tightly, you let out a silent and choked sob, because you cannot believe any of this bullshit your eyes are seeing.

Mark takes a few steps towards Johnny and picks something up from the ground— a paper— making his way to you. But he stands on his own while he reads with his slightly shaky hands, and crumples the paper once he is done skimming over it. He sits next to you on the hard, carpeted but otherwise concrete floor. “They got bit while they were clearing out the basement,” His lips wobble a bit, but he quickly covers it up by placing his fist over his mouth until it goes away. “Locked themselves in here so they wouldn’t harm anybody.”

“If the trespassers didn’t go through the district leaving every goddamn door open, none of this would’ve fucking happened.” Maybe you were trying to blame it on someone, or maybe you really were mad at them for their ignorance as they went through the city. You did not know for certain, although it felt a whole lot like it was the latter. Because they would not have had to camp here anyway. There would not have been infected in the buildings in the first place.

You sit down where you are standing, looking at Johnny.

All you know is that this was unfair. If anyone deserved surviving long in this world it was Johnny. He was physically strong, and he had a good mental attitude, and he was so purely good that the last thing he deserved was to die the way everybody did, alone and scared and not wanting to turn into one of those things. He deserved to die of old age if anything after living a happy and healthy life, continuing to help lonely recruits like you and Mark— doing what he likes to do until his very last days. Training, falling in love, teasing and pestering his friends whenever and wherever, giving advice, making people’s stomachs hurt with his smooth and not-so-smooth jokes, doing photography as long as that camera of his would survive, spending time with his family and not moving out of their house even though there are available houses until the time comes when he absolutely has to.

But he cannot do any of those things anymore.

He also cannot be there for you or Mark anymore.

Your trembling hand comes up to spread over your eyes and your fingers rest on your temples, and you hitch a breath in. “What are we going to do?” You ask Mark with your just as trembling voice as if he would know. The question is not necessarily about this particular moment in time, but about the far future as well. He lets it linger in the air as his eyes switch between the two bodies.

“Well,” He clears his throat when his voice shakes violently and looks at you, his hands playing with the carpet, picking and tearing away. He chooses to ignore the far future, at least for now. “We’ll have to tell his parents first.”

The hand on your face falls down. You look at Mark, and he notices how wide your eyes are. He knows you cannot comprehend it by the way your eyes look, looking right through him with your shell shocked, hundred-yard stare. “No,” You whisper. “Mark, I can’t.”

“That’s fine,” He looks into your eyes with his own that are glazed over, and nods reassuringly. “I can.”

But it does not feel better. Instead, it makes you feel worse immediately, because you feel like you at least owe Johnny and his parents this. It makes you feel ashamed that you will not do even one thing about it, because you do not think you would ever be able to look into his parents’ eyes again; knowing you joked about it before he left and you were too unbothered to go out after him before you were ordered to do so. There is nothing in your heart, mind, or body, that tells you that you can do it without completely losing yourself in the process.

The two of you collect yourselves and come back to your senses as quickly as you can, because you knew Yuta and Jaehyun would be on you if you were any more late.

Mark helps you in carrying the bodies down the stairs which is an extremely tiring task considering you go down several floors, and the mental toll it has on you. The two of you unblock the fire exit door and push the metal drawers and organizers aside, opening the door and carrying them to the lobby.

Then, you head outside. Yuta and Jaehyun do not spot Mark and you until you get closer, but when they do, their brows immediately furrow. “We need two bags.” You mutter, feeling your chest stutter with the words. Their faces fall at that very second. The grip Yuta has on his map that he is holding tightens and his knuckles go white, and he sighs with utter disappointment. Knowing Yuta, it is at himself.

“One of them’s Johnny.”

The muscles on their faces relax only for their eyes to widen.

It takes a few hours for all of you to get back to the city once you put them in bags and start riding, not galloping nor trotting; deciding not to look for the others knowing it would take a longer time to get back and not wanting to stress out anyone in the city further. A night group could easily replace yours.

When you are at the gates the sun has long set. Questions arise once the gates open and the bags dragged by the horses are seen. You and Mark answer them since you are the ones who found them in that state, where you found them, which building, which floor, was there anything written around them, any symbols, any human spotted around the area— anything useful.

You give them the answers still in a daze, and let them take Anubis from your hand. Without waiting for anybody you start walking, on the way to your house.

Except, you do not end up in your house for a while. You wait in the dark, just around the corner leading to Johnny’s house and you watch Mark deliver the news to them. Although you cannot hear what he says to them, you can see it clearly with the light on their porch. How Mark delivers the news with his hands linked in the front, fiddling with his fingers a little as he looks at their expectant faces. How Johnny’s mother hugs into his father once she hears the situation, both of them shaking with sobs. How Mark’s shoulders drop and how he tries to console them, but stopping when Johnny’s mother does not take a step away from her husband and he waves at Mark presumably wanting some space and time alone to themselves.

You watch as Mark nods and leaves, and you head to your house. Hurrying into your backyard, you swing open the door and kick off your boots. Not bothering to put them in their place, you take your bag off your shoulders and the only reason that you do not let it fall onto the floor is because of the guns packed inside. Then, you make a move to take your coat off.

And the damn zipper gets stuck.

With a sigh, you force it down. But it does not budge. So you try again, but it will not move. You wait, nibble on your lips, give it time to change its mind: maybe it was frozen and it needed to thaw.

But when you try again, it just does not want to move down.

Pissed off, you try to strip out of the coat. But that proves to be almost harder. Everybody wears thin but warm, lightweight coats to make their movability better, especially outside. But moving your whole arm to yourself and then down while holding the two layers of clothes, one thick sweater and the thin coat on top of it was undoable— because then they were fully limiting your movement.

And you had to take it off. You need to take it off.

Your hands then start picking and grabbing at the coat trying to rip it off, and that is when your door opens without any alert beforehand and Jaehyun walks in.

“What are you doing?” He whispers and walks over to you near your couch. You only stop struggling when he stands in front of you. “I can’t get it off, it’s stuck.”

He notices how you will not look into his eyes in the dark, and he notices the tears streaming down your face that you probably are not realizing. “Okay.”

Jaehyun walks over to your bathroom and takes a bar of soap you have. He walks right back to you in complete silence and dabs at your zipper with the sleeves of his hoodie up and down to take off the excess moisture, and starts slathering on the soap along the zipper until its sharp corner has visibly softened and the zipper looks white with the coat of it. He then fumbles with the zipper for a few seconds before it slides right down.

It makes you feel a mixture of embarrassment and anger, and you sniffle, only then realizing that you are crying after feeling the wetness in your inhale. Your lips waver as you try not to let a sob out. “There you go.” He mumbles as he helps you out of the coat and places it on the arm of your couch. He picks your boots up and places them next to the door.

“Let’s wash your hands.” He suggests, and you look down at your hands, seeing the blood from that Runner.

Jaehyun is almost late to hold you once your face violently scrunches up and you start fully letting it out, shaking with choked sobs.

Because your crying does not subside for several minutes, he ends up going to the bathroom again and comes back with a couple of wet rags, soaping one up and cleaning your hands delicately before wiping them off. He leads you to your bed then and lets you lie down, pulls the cover up, and kneels down in front of your face. “Try to sleep, okay? Force yourself to if you need it.”

You nod at him, and let him leave after he smiles at you.

His eyes had looked empty, which was always the worst for Jaehyun.

The next morning you hear your door lightly opening in your sleep, and being carefully shut. A few steps make their way over to you slowly and the empty side of your bed sinks with a somewhat loud huff.

Whoever it is waits for a bit, lets you sleep a little more even though you are not deep in it. That goes on for a few minutes before your bed sinks closer to your back, and it sinks a bit less than before— an elbow.

Fingers start running through and playing with your hair. It must be Jaehyun. And you are right. “Taeyong let me and Donghyuck take over you and Mark’s work for a couple of days, so you don’t have to go in today.” He softly whispers, and you nod slightly. “How’d you know I wasn’t sleeping?” You ask in hopes of distracting yourself from the thoughts and views that race over your eyelids, and open your eyes when it does not exactly work out.

He answers with a slight smile. “Your lashes fluttered when I walked in.” You feel him place his chin on your shoulder. “You slept any?”

Gulping, you shake your head. “Just got some shut-eye.”

“That’s okay.” Jaehyun whispers. “Better than keeping your eyes open. I’m happy you got some sort of rest.”

He sighs and takes his hand off your hair then. “Yuta wants to see you and Mark eating so he’s preparing breakfast. I have to leave, but head out soon and try to eat for me. A few bites is all I’m asking for.”

“Okay.”

Porridge and bergamot tea.

The breakfast Yuta has prepared for you and Mark, with some dried plums and apples inside that he fried on the pan a little. It smells nice, looks less so.

There is no one to greet and welcome you initially when you are in front of his house that is on the same street as Johnny’s. But it does not matter because you barge in to avoid being seen by his parents, taking big strides from the start of the street. You hear the stir of the wooden spoon inside the metal pot, and the fruit that spills in while you make your way to the kitchen.

Mark is sitting at the island counter of Yuta’s kitchen with his elbow on the surface, his head leant against his hand.

Yuta turns away from the cream colored counters and his electric stove once he hears the footsteps. “Morning.”

You see Mark’s head only tilt a little, but not fully to the extent that he can look back at you. “Hey.” Your voice does not really come out, so you clear your throat. Yuta’s face falls a little at that. “Is there tension in your throat?”

“Yeah.” You sit down next to Mark. With your hands placed on the surface, you turn your head to look at him but his face is covered by his hand and arm. “There’s some powdered ginger you can take in the pantry. But you should try and relax your muscles first.”

With that he pours the porridge into the bowls he has taken out for you, and serves them with a slight smile on his face. Then he pours the hot tea inside two small jars and hands them out as well. “Dig up.”

It does not feel right. The atmosphere is too heavy, but you know you will not get out of it unless you really eat something, so you pick up the spoon and take a spoonful of the meal, gathering a piece of everything. Letting it steam for a few seconds as you watch it, you contemplate putting it in your mouth because ever since yesterday you feel this sickness in your stomach. It is more fragile than it ever could be on any given normal day.

Even so, you take a bite. At first it feels like you will throw up at the sheer hue of sweetness in it.

But you chew, and continue chewing, and you do not throw up.

“I heard you’re going out again today.” Mark mumbles, which makes you perk up, looking at Yuta. His eyes widen in the slightest. “I am,” He says, his eyes looking boringly only at Mark.

You chuckle drily. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Taeyong wants me there. He’s going out too.” His explanation does not calm your heart, which feels like it is being squeezed, at all. You turn back to your bowl and continue picking some porridge. Just to avoid his gaze.

Yuta does not say that he would come back or that he would be okay. Because he knows that those words do not hold any meaning to them whatsoever, especially now. “I have to go soon, so you should better be finished with these before I do. I’ll let you drink the tea by yourselves.”

Mark and you start eating in complete silence. Mostly because Yuta is watching you eat and it is extremely uncomfortable, and it would be awkward to just talk as if he was not there.

It makes you both rush your meals as well. The bowls empty out in a matter of minutes and your stomach feels heavy, though in all honesty, it was a pretty good breakfast Yuta had prepared for you. It was a fact that you would not have bothered to cook or even to prepare something that did not need to be cooked.

When the two of you are done with your meals, Yuta smiles and takes the bowls away to wash them quickly. Mark tries to intervene and says that Yuta could go out and he would take care of the dishes, but Yuta shuts him right up saying he needs the distraction anyway.

You can see Yuta’s hands shaking slightly.

It is always difficult to know for sure what he is feeling. But if you had to give it a shot, you would say he is feeling either anxious or shocked, or both. He is the type to live his emotions very secretively, and you could never recall an instance where Yuta’s grief was noticeable. Maybe only when he had lost one of his recruited, young survivors on the way back home. That had changed him as a whole; losing someone (especially much younger than him) under his responsibility.

He leaves once the bowls are washed, not looking at your way or telling you goodbye. You are simultaneously thankful and angry at him for doing that.

The bergamot tea is still steamy. It somewhat burns your hands when you put them around the jar to warm yourself up and start looking into the dark substance, looking so deep into it that you start feeling as if you are part of the dark liquid.

Mark clears his throat. “You’re wearing the same things as yesterday.”

That is true: even though there is nothing that you want more than to take them off and trash them to never see them again. But at the same time, there is something inside of you that does not want to let go of them. Even if it is just taking them off.

You look at the side of his face, and see him taking a sip from the jar. “Could you sleep?”

He shakes his head with a gulp. “No, no. You?”

The two of you make eye contact when he finally properly looks at you, and you shake your head as well. “I kept seeing it like a picture— like something projected at the backs of my eyelids.”

Mark nods, and that is it for a while. No one speaks for some time and you sip your beverages together as if it is a chore that you have to do, as if Yuta would see you two if you spill the tea into the drain of the sink and would come after you, trying to get done as quickly as possible so both of you could leave to be by yourselves. And it goes on until Mark decides to speak in a low voice. “They buried him early in the morning. His parents didn’t want anybody to see.”

Your eyes burn and the lump forms back in your throat because you can understand why they would not want anyone to see, but at the same time, you cannot. “Some of his older recruits left him flowers and letters, seeing that made me feel a bit better.”

You nod. “He deserves that.” And so much more. Despite yourself you smile slightly, and Mark joins in understandably grim, nodding. “He does.”

The day goes by extremely slow, yet so fast once you are back at your house.

You let yourself take refuge on the bed and do not move much throughout the day, trying to sleep. Expectedly, you are not too good at doing that. You toss and turn and huff and look up at the ceiling meaninglessly until you can no longer hear kids playing outside and the adults going about with their daily duties; until daylight loses all of its significance. Until you realize you have melted into this state of mind and have completely forgotten about your needs, using the toilet, eating, or drinking water.

Yesterday’s clothes are still on you. And you cannot bring yourself to change out of them, again, even though there is nothing in this world you want more than to never see them again.

The night would have not had any significance whatsoever as well if it was not for the sounds of hurried shuffles through the snow that were coming out of your room’s window at whoever knows o’clock. Before you could even show any type of physical response to it- whether it be surprise or suspicion- there were loud and hard knocks on your door.

It takes probably all of the strength you have in you to get up and walk to the door. You laze your way over to it and swing it open, rubbing your eyes.

You would have expected it to be Jaehyun, since he must have gotten done with his duties. But it was not him. It was Mark.

Mark, whose eyes and face were lit up with adrenaline. There is not a single emotion you can make out from the way his face looks. The world could actually be ending for all you know, or the community might have been getting raided.

You cannot make anything out from the way his voice sounds, either, when you hear him speak the millisecond after the door knob turns. “They found the trespassers.”

The look in his eyes- whatever it was, shifts into concern for a split second before he carries on with his words. “One of them’s the one Yuta left a note for, they were making their way over here when Yuta found them.”

Those words spark a light in your chest because of course. Of course they were the ones that caused this whole thing in the first place and it sounds stupid to you now that you had not even thought about them when you noticed the doors were open.

Which is because the doors at the nearer town were, in fact, closed while you were there.

Now it does not make sense. “Wh- how- that doesn’t make any sense. The doors were closed when we were out earlier.”

Mark shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess they got the theme by the time they were there. Yuta told me about the whole interrogation,” He chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head. “They claimed everything before they could even ask the questions.”

“Do they know they fucking killed people?” You ask, and Mark flinches at the harshness of the words. However, he nods promptly. “Yuta told them. They said they were sorry-”

It makes you laugh at the sheer comedy of it. “They were sorry? That doesn’t bring them back or make up for anything.”

“Nobody ever said it does-” Mark defends, but you are too angry at them to stop. “You know how fucking miraculous it is to survive twenty five years- the whole ordeal, especially when you go outside frequently. His parents pushed through thick and thicker with a newborn baby just to get to where they are now, to give him a damn chance at life and this is how Johnny goes? Because of someone else’s stupidity and inconsideration?” Shaking from anger, you wipe at your eyes that have gotten a little wet while your blow-up was going on. You gulp and shake your head, feeling the tension in your jaws. “They should save their apologies because not even a billion of them,” Faster than lightning, you hold a finger up in the air in between you and Mark. “Would make up for a single hair of Johnny’s that got hurt nor for a single tear of his parents.”

Mark, your poor friend and companion, only nods a little. He knows how you get when you are angry, and he knows how fed up you must be feeling, and he can see how tired and out-of-it you look, so he does not talk. He knows that if he were to say anything you would spill words from your mouth you would either regret saying or would only upset you more, and he did not want that to happen.

Though, Mark did have to say one thing. A part of the truth that would concern the two of you. “They’re from the Nox.”

He watches your eyes slowly widen. In a matter of seconds, you look awake and aware as if you did get all the sleep you had lost the past two days within those few moments. You lean your shoulder against the door for support or from the shock, he cannot be sure. “What?” You whisper.

Mark shifts from his place, the tips of his shoes touching your socks as he leans in much closer- most probably to drown his voice out. The neighbors should not hear more than what they might have already heard so far, even though you had been conversing in low tones. “From the headquarters,” He whispers, looking into your eyes. “They came to recruit people from this area. The others are with them.”

Your brows furrow with the oncoming nerves. “So there were more of them and they just joined?”

After a second’s hesitation, Mark nods. “Seems so.”

“Why would they?” Upon the question, Mark takes a deep breath and pushes his shoulders back much like a school kid being questioned on a topic they have not studied, and looks at the side. The yellow lights from other people’s windows hit his face as he nibbles on his bottom lip indecisively. When he turns back to face you, the lights still illuminating the right side of his face, he shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Mark does not get surprised when you chuckle humorlessly. “Well I think it’s pathetic to run with people who’ve killed your own.”

It is quiet for a few seconds as he nibbles on his lip some more, but in the end something- that looked much like defeat- washes over him before he just nods a little. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Maybe five seconds of quiet before he speaks, looking down at his hands where his fingers are picking at scabs formed over his knuckles that seemed to be there every living day. “Um,” He swallows the words that would come after that at first, but he thinks, and thinks some more. It takes a couple of seconds, but he does decide to speak up. “You know what, nevermind. Maybe later.”

You get a bit taken aback but he cannot tell, because your brows are still furrowed a bit angrily and there is no other emotion over your face. “Do you know where Jaehyun is? He said he’d come straight after his duties.”

Mark’s mouth opens but no word leaves it. “He uh,” It closes and opens once again, his eyes widening a little. “He’s- he volunteered,” He clears his throat and looks down. “He volunteered for filiation.”

“Of what?” Your heartbeats have gotten significantly faster, stronger and heavier, but you cannot say if it is worry or the oncoming anger. “The trespassers’ base. Taeyong was looking for someone he could trust and he-,”

“Amazing,” You chuckle and shuffle on your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s amazing.” Mark sees you lower your head and your tongue swipe over your bottom lip as you smile bitterly, and when you raise your head back up, he can see the unshed liquid shine with the moonlight. “Why does nobody act responsible?” You whisper, and he sees the falter in your furrowed brows- the stutter.

But Mark knows you better.

He knows this is not how you truly think. He knows you out of all people want to move at the front, he knows you want that the most, and Mark knows you blame yourself for the things you are (in his opinion, rightfully) unable to do. He knows it is because you are scared. He knows you are terrified. Because it has been long, so long since either of you two have even gotten close to properly surviving outside and in all honesty: through these years of routinely going out for shorter periods of time and not having to dwell on things out of the gates, you two have grown accustomed to the feeling of homely safety. It really had felt like nothing and nobody would be able to reach you or anyone around you, even if it felt like it just inside the walls. The bubble of routine reality hidden in the much chaotic and unforgiving reality that was this community had slowly but surely implanted the expectation of seeing your loved ones get back home as if it was just a shift of a pre-apocalypse job- what they called 9-to-5.

And Mark knows this is almost like a reset, and that the sense of security and whatever this place has brought you feels like it is gone. He feels like it too.

Mark hates to see you this way. He hates to feel this way. He hates that Johnny was the one who had to go out of everyone, because he was the best of you.

But he knows he should take care of who he has left. In whatever way he can.

When he looks at you, the concerned look in his eyes from a few moments ago is back. “Have you slept any?”

You shake your head. “No.”

He nods as if he expected the murmured answer. “We’re going back to duties tomorrow, you need to sleep some.” Mark sees you chuckle just once and hears you mutter an ‘Easy to say.’ while tilting your gaze down, but he interrupts you by pointing inside, albeit a bit reluctantly. “Do you want me to help?”

“Would you?” He nods, the genuinity somehow visible from the way he does, and steps in gladly when you get away from the door and open it wide enough for him to walk in.

It had been long since the last time he had helped you sleep. It was a few years ago when you were on your own, having just separated from a group of survivors the two of you had become somewhat attached to. Their goals with life were much different than Mark’s and yours- two mere teenagers whose only wish was to not be much farther from home in hopes of reuniting with the people you had grown with.

Who could ever know that a little over three weeks of traveling on foot would already be too far from home, and too impossible to ever cross paths with? A miracle, really, ‘for kids your age’ (as people who were around the age of your parents would say).

Some nights the hopelessness and the feeling of never belonging to any group would take over you. Mark was the only person you could depend on, and you were the only person he could depend on. With how young you both were it was only natural that both of you had times where the cycle of hunger, loneliness, the paranoia of surviving and being infected, almost-dying but being saved, seeing the only person you depend on almost die but saving them, either being showered with love from other survivors or being hated for whatever reason, and getting left behind either way would get too much to deal with.

The two of you were camping overnight inside a completely empty water tower, warm and dark in the winter night- the last gift of the survivor group you had tagged along with had been an old map marked all over with safe and hopefully clear places to settle in. Plus the groups you should never encounter.

So he had done what he was doing right now. He made you lay down like right now, that time on the hard concrete and now on your kind of soft mattress that was slowly rotting away, knelt in front of you unlike in the past when he laid down beside you, started playing (more like softly scratching) with your hair and scalp because he knew it worked well to make you sleep, and sang in a low tone because he knew you loved it, and found comfort in it.

His voice sounds rougher than ever when he starts.

“Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life,” This song is much too familiar, and it is Mark’s favorite verse of it. It means so much to him, having been brought up with faith in a world he once stated he felt was ‘too far from it’.

“And I will dwell on this earth forevermore,” His voice is soothing and soft, even though you knew he preferred his rapping much better over his singing. “Said, I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul,”

He stops a little to take a breath, an unnecessary one, yet heavy. “But I can’t walk on the path of the right because I’m wrong.”

Mark’s voice is working its charm- or maybe it is knowing you are not alone, you do not know. But your head was getting clouded and dazed with the sleep creeping up to take you over already. He, however, continues. “Well, I came upon a man at the top of a hill,”

His voice cracks a little. “Called himself the savior of the human race,”

Through the cloud of sleep, you try to reach him. Only mentally, but you try to reach him. You wanted to hear him until the end. “Said he come to save the world from destruction and pain, but I said ‘How can you save the world from itself?’”

You barely make it to the end of the line, only hearing a glimpse of his sporadic whistling.

When you open your eyes you see Johnny sitting down next to your hand laid in front of your face, hugging the pillow. He smiles down at you, ruffling your hair for a bit. The room is dim- only the wall lights are on. The environment is mostly dark, even Johnny’s face that is much closer to you than anything. You can still see him pretty well, though, in the dim, warm yellow lighting.

His clothes are relatively clean. A few stains and tears here and there, but nothing unusual. Him and his parents’ ways of doing laundry were always superior to many others. You wanted to learn how but Johnny said you would have to come and do it with them once to properly learn once you are out of the dorms. Sometimes he would offer to do your laundry for you when the queues and waiting periods of the laundry got too long in the dorms- it was easier to have problems with water at a rather small place where a lot of people lived, and when they got their clothes really dirty almost every single day while getting educated on survival skills and agriculture.

His face is bright. His eyes are puffy just the right amount; he looks energetic. His smile is of genuine fondness towards you, and it makes you smile as well.

“Sleeping too deep?” He asks quietly. The dorm room is unoccupied excluding the two of you; your roommate had gotten a bad cold and was kept in the small hospital ward. You shake your head at his question but the yawn you let out contradicts with the motion. “I was just taking a nap.”

Johnny nods and looks down for a second, sighing a little before looking back at you and slightly raising his hand which held a tea cloth, showing off the little pouch. “Eomma sent some cornbread. I brought some dried figs as well.”

Excitement washes over you, and you take the cloth out of his hand gratefully when he holds it out for you. Unable to hold yourself back, you break a small piece off of a slice of cornbread and happily put it inside your mouth- giggling in delight when you notice the fresh corn taste and the fluffy texture. Johnny chuckles at your reaction and coos only a little.

His smile dies down pretty fast despite its brightness just a moment ago. Which is unusual for him, who likes to stretch his smiles out for as long as he possibly could.

“Can I lie down?” He asks and points at the pillow reluctantly. You nod and scoot closer to the wall, arching your back a little and tilting your head back to secure the tea cloth of snacks inside the small, empty vase placed on the windowsill. It operated as a whatever-holder: sometimes it was actual flowers, sometimes it was small jewellery or gifts you had gotten on your birthdays, sometimes the very occasional letter from Mark even though he was just two buildings down, but usually it was snacks from Johnny.

He lies down next to you and does not bother to get under the blanket, placing his hands on his stomach as he looks at the ceiling. You watch his chest rise and fall three, maybe four times before he can start speaking. “Did you ever observe one?”

“An infected?” He hums at your question. You look at the ceiling and try to remember a time you might have but nothing resurfaces. “Not really. Was too busy trying to save my ass. Or Mark’s.”

“You never went outside before the raid?” Johnny asks, quite curious. You shake your head again even though you are not sure if he would see it. “Not never, but we were in school mostly. It was high up in an apartment so it was the safest place. I did not have to worry much about them until we were older.”

An exhausted sigh makes its way past your lips and it is not only because you are physically exhausted. “And then we ran.” Turning your head to the side to look at his face, you smile. “And now I’m in a different kind of school.” Calling the dormitories a school was simultaneously a far reach and not. It was mostly to train people to not be shenanigans until they became adults, and to be responsible with their duties and communal living once they were one.

A hand laid on his stomach reaches out for one of yours and he holds it, squeezing in a way that could not be described as tightly but rather, strongly. In a way that reassured you and calmed you down, in the way that made all your past worth the present. “You’ll get to be a Wanderer soon enough. Just a few months more.”

“I just like the idea of having my own place,” You chuckle as you shrug, acting like being a Wanderer was the least of your interests. “A bathroom all to myself, a less shitty bed and having the freedom to walk around whenever…”

“Just make sure you don’t forget about us when you get your luxury.” He smiles and looks at you, and you smile back at him devilishly. “I couldn’t if I wanted to,” At that, Johnny’s mouth drops open in surprise and happiness, but you cut him off before he can even start, playing your game further. “You see, unfortunately most people I consider friends in here aren’t peaceful, calm farmers or healers or-”

“Yeah, we all have a fucked-up liking of the outside,” He nods as he talks to himself, eyes slightly squinted. But he comes to his own rescue with a protest. “It’s not like anybody can blame us. Being lost in the old world is quite dreamy when there aren’t screeching mushrooms running around.”

It makes you laugh the way he addresses once-people back from the dead, even snort a little. It had been long since you had seen one. Young recruits, or recruits that basically were not at the age of maturity, were not allowed to go on patrols, research scouts, or sweeps unless it was absolutely necessary. From what Taeyong had told you the first time you ever stepped foot into the dorms and were told about the way things went around the city, it was to give people, especially teens, a chance.

A chance to live at least until the day they were considered adults.

“Speaking of,” Johnny’s smile dies down once more. He takes a big breath, and his chest rises with it, and he holds it there for a few seconds. When it is let out, it sounds sad more than anything. Maybe even a bit depressed. “When we were out on a patrol today with Taeyong, there was this small group of Runners at one of the checkpoints,”

He looks at you, but you do not say anything, so he continues. “So we were clearing the place out as we do, and I went upstairs while Taeyong stayed behind just to be safe. I went into the studio to write down the report,”

With that he turns his gaze back to the ceiling, scrunching his eyebrows slightly. “And there was this.. Runner, it- he didn’t hear or see me so I hid behind a table. But he wasn’t moving around, you know? Just standing at the same spot. It was very early stage, he had just turned. Maybe a couple of days ago, I don’t know,”

He starts fiddling with his fingers. “He looked around the same age as me, or maybe a bit younger. Wasn’t flimsy, didn’t look like he’d been starving- he just looked healthy otherwise. But as I looked at him and the way he flinched, the way his hands moved and his shoulders cramped; the way he grunted.. it sounded too human.”

There is silence for a second or so, but he picks his words right back up. “And his eyes- his eyes,” Johnny breathes, and the sound that comes from his nose sounds a bit too stuffed and wet to be normal. “They didn’t look completely empty. Not even meaningless.”

He looks down at his hands that are still fiddling, his lips hanging out a bit the way they did whenever he was sleepy or sad. Then, he nods a little, confirms whatever is going through his mind. “I think he was there,” His voice cracks and stutters. “Inside. Trapped and waiting until it consumed his brain whole. Trying to fight back as if it would be any help.”

“And I couldn’t help but think, as I shot him down,” He shrugs and shakes his head. “That I’d never want to be trapped in my own body and have to wait until I have no control over it, if it ever happened to me.” And he looks at you.

Johnny looks at you.

With his sad, brown, dark eyes. His empathy for the Runner and for his own self. He looks at you so deep, almost like he is frozen.

Because he is.

You reach out your hand to touch his arm, and find it to be extremely cold, and stiff.

He is gone.

You wake up breathless and almost shoot yourself out of your bed with the force you are sitting up. Mark is gone, and nobody else is there. You are completely alone. The sky is just turning a bit grey, signalling the coming of the morning.

Sighing, you try to relieve some of the pain in your jaws and chest; trying to forget the memory of Johnny that was now your nightmare. You had clenched up too much, it felt stiff everywhere. Now, your head was hurting too.

There is not a single drop of sleep left in you- even if there was, you hardly think you would be able to go back.

So you get up.

Walking to your closet in a hurry, you pick out some clothes in the dark. In all honesty you do not even know what you are picking, but it does not matter. There would be very few people outside at the dead of the night if at all, and you could not care less about how they thought your outfit was.

This felt like the only time you could actually visit him. You just wanted to be alone with him, and the silence.

Once you wear your coat you are already half outside. You shut your door as quietly as you possibly could in your hurry, which was undeniably a little loud even if it had been a reasonable time to leave your house, but it was not like people would care. Unless someone or something was screaming, nobody really cared.

From your house to the cemetery took around ten minutes of walking, which was a reasonable distance given how spread out this city was. How it came to be this big you did not exactly know. Johnny had told you sometime that the bigger series of stone buildings belonged to a winery- the wines would be fermented in the summer and then shipped out here in the fall to age before being sold, which was what his parents told to him. It made sense, because the stone buildings all had underground basements that were all connected, some of which were used as a hospital ward and some of which were used as a communal living space for people who did not really have families nor a role in the community like a Farmer, Wanderer or Sweeper. Basically for people who were deemed unqualified to have their own houses.

It kind of sucked, but then again, some people actually preferred being there. The director of the basements and dorms, this lovely woman called Sarwendah, had told you once that even though it was not the majority, some people found comfort in living with other people openly since it made them forget the reality of everything as long as they were in that bubble.

The wooden buildings were either built after the gates were built- which, the gates were built after the army claimed the zone to themselves at the start of the outbreak, whose control over the area for something around 11 years, Johnny remembered those times in his childhood- or they were the ones already built for the winery’s workers and their families.

Johnny. That bit of knowledge came from Johnny too, as well as many others.

And when you are in the cemetery walking through the graves, looking for his name and spotting it without much time passing, you see a silhouette standing right at the foot of the grave.

Who, upon walking closer, turns out to be Mark.

Who, also upon walking closer, seems to be fully equipped with bags and his gun.

“Why so equipped?” You ask, and it startles him, but he does turn around and watch you as you walk over to him. “You’re going outside to join Jaehyun?”

He clears his throat. “No, he got back,” There is a split second of silence that feels a bit too long in your confusion for how long it actually is. Mark rolls his shoulders back and takes a deep breath, lets it out, creating a rather long-lasting vapor. “But yeah, I’m going outside.”

“Where?” You ask further, and he visibly winces. He avoids the question to play with the stones around Johnny’s grave with his foot, nibbling on the inside of his mouth before mumbling. “I should’ve told you before but I couldn’t.”

Your brows furrow as a string is pulled at your heart with the suspicion and the piecing of things together. “What were you going to say?”

One more exhale, but this time sharp and clear-cut. Controlled. He looks at you, looks in your eyes, and tells you the words you would have never imagined he would. “They’re releasing the trespassers and I’m leaving with them.”

Everything kind of slows down at that moment if that is even possible with the lack of action-filled things around you. Shock, was it? Or utter betrayal? “I’m sorry?”

Mark takes a step closer to you and fully turns his body to face you, towering above you not so much with his height but more so with his body language. “They’re working on a vaccine. They trust what they’ve got in their hands and they’re traveling around recruiting people to guard the headquarters. They’re afraid someone might-”

It was all too much.

“Mark, what the fuck are you talking about?” You snarl, and it shuts him up effectively. Yet, after that, you do not say anything. You wait for him to explain himself and after a couple of overwhelmed inhales, he takes the opportunity. “I’m going there to work as a guard. They’re afraid of the possibility of someone stealing the samples, or worse, attacking the lab. They need every volunteer they can get right now.”

Anger.

Pure anger is what you are feeling, and it is indescribable. It covers you from head to toe, right to left, inside and out; it feels hot and yet, icy cold. “Johnny’s blood hasn’t even dried yet, and you’re leaving with the very people who caused his death?”

Mark looks taken aback. “Be sensible. They couldn’t have known about the doors, they’re the first group from the headquarters to come here in years. It’s life or death out there, and they probably didn’t have the time for details.”

You take a step closer to him as if it is possible, and hit his shoulder lightly. “How about you be a little sensible? How can you trust them so easily? What if they’re saying these just to recruit all those people- and to travel all the way through there-”

“They have a car. Takes three days.” Mark cuts in, which makes you chuckle humorlessly. “Okay, great. What if they just recruit you to use you as a scapegoat for when they encounter bandits? Or, like I said, they just recruit you to have more guards? The vaccine has been a word since forever, Mark, and we know it. It’s a stupid hopeless rumor.”

“I’m telling you, they have scientists and they have evidence-” Mark starts, but you cut him off. “Yes! But their people also raid towns, and these people themselves are inconsiderate enough to screw up our whole system and kill our friends along the way-” You are basically trying to make sense to him with your whole body, pointing at the grave and getting closer to him and looking at his eyes to make him regain some of his sense. Just enough to keep him here, where he should be. “How can you trust them with your own life when they’ve been so inconsiderate of the others’ time and time again? You walk out of here with them and the next thing you know, you’re dead, Mark.” You point to your left, which is the direction of the big gates where the trespassers must be leaving, as they need to leave under the Leaders’ watch.

He is silent upon that. It takes him a few moments to come up with the words he is going to say, and his eyes flicker around under the confused sunlight signalling the coming of the early morning.

But he comes up with them nonetheless. “I owe it to people and to him,” He points at the grave. “To do whatever part I can to end this someday. And if I need to go to great extents and forgive them, so be it.”

And with a determined gaze in his eyes you had never seen from Mark before, he says what he really thinks. “I’d rather die running after something I believe in than live with the shame every day.”

You understand.

Not him, but that he is going.

That maybe, he is already gone.

“You leave,” You look at the grave and bite the inside of your cheek before looking back at Mark. “And I’ll come looking after you.” You whisper.

He looks away and bites down on his lip, placing his hands on either side of his hips. And then, he shrugs, not even trying to think it through. “That’d be up to you.”

And he starts walking towards the left, leaving you at the cemetery.

For the first time, you are alone.

#NCT-WRITERS #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct mark #nct jaehyun #nct johnny #nct yuta #nct haechan #i'm so nervous tagging these because oh my god before i left only 5 tags could work for me #so i'm not gonna tag much #it's 4 am for me and i'm doing this instead of midterms. i deserve to be punished

[softforklave]

Hey, what do you think Klaus did after leaving the academy? He obviously leads the transient grifter lifestyle that we see in the show (I have a head canon that he spent time in California but anyhoo), but the show also uses him as a vessel for random one liners (‘You’d do great in prison, Grant,’ / ‘That’s why I stopped dating twins...’) My question is: how many of these do you think actually happened and in which order? Because not all of them really align with this characterisation to me haha

Thank you for the ask, anon! <3

I don't know if I can give you a solid order or remeber all the one liners, but I will try my best! I think most of them are true, at least to some extent. His life has been pretty wild. Though warning, this is pretty sad. 

He jokes about not remembering his first time in s1. I think this happens before he leaves the academy and before Ben dies. I think it was with someone older, and that he wakes up in his bed at the academy with no memories of the night and bruises and pains that make it easy to guess what happened.

I think he left at the same time as Allison, based on the scene in Man on the Moon from s1, where Luther checks in on Allison and Klaus room before saying to Reggie that he is the only one left. I can't remember the exact year but around 17/18? I think it is very likely he has been to many places, California included. He is also there in You Look Like Death. So maybe Klaus and Allison went to California together before they split up.

I think the first few years were more glamorous, that he managed to get hooked up with rich people because he is still famous, or at least more famous than he is in 2019. So fancy parties with rich people and lots of drugs and sex. He probably hooked up with the Baldwins sometime here. He probably also scammed some people with his powers during this time. Not conjuring, but pretending to talk to someone deceased spouse or something. I don't think he dated (in the traditional sense at least, but I doubt he has dated anyone) twins per say, but probably slept with the same pair of twins for a period of time, and I don't know how much of a breakup it really was, if his longest relationship was 3 weeks as a transaction. The way he says it makes me wonder if he dated twins more than once, so he might have dated some twins in the 60s too. I think he went to Rio with some rich “friends” during this time, cause I cannot imagine him having the resources to do it later. People still know him and think he is fun to have around.

After the fame kind of dabs off I think he just drifts around a lot, very high and probably not in the same place for a long time to avoid dealers he still owes. I do think he returns more often to the city where the academy is at (I still think its Detroit but who knows for sure?), especially during the winter when he might be able to sneak back in if it gets too cold. I don't know if he would actually do this, but I really like the thought of him crashing there during very cold nights and Grace discreetly leaving some food in his room for him to pick up on his way out. He is probably jumping a lot between rehabs, shelters and other peoples beds, going to parties almost every night for alcohol, drugs and people who might take him home. It's very hard to say when he went to jail, but I think he has been there multiple times, but I don't know how many. One of the assistant writers for tua posted her pilot script on ao3 (happy twenty-first) and in that script he is in prison when he turns 21. It is also quite likely he got himself into jail in the winter, many homeless people will do that because prison can sometimes be better. So I guess a few times between 21 - 29. The way he says Grant will be passed around might not have happened to him, but that he saw it happen to someone else? I feel like Klaus might be charismatic and charming enough to avoid the worst, but I would not be surprised if I am proven wrong. 

I think the Osso Bucco guy came into the picture a bit later, maybe when he was around 27/28, but it is not based on anything, in particular, just that if it was a long time ago, he might not remember it, His life is pretty blurry overall, and its not as “fun” of memory as the Baldwins or Rio. 

So I think this might be an ish timeline that is based purely on what I think and are very likely to be wrong. I hope this answered your question, and I didn't get lost in my own thoughts too much.

#ask #anon #thank you!!!❤️❤️❤️ #I am not sure how good of an answer this is but #hopefully its okay #tw: drugs #tw: alcohol #tw: prison #tw: drug addiction #tw: homelessness #tw: rape #let me know if I should tag any more tws I have not done it a lot #klaus hargreeves #tua #the umbrella academy

[5289belle]

Captain America’s Legacy

Summary:  When Katerina Rogers watches as the flags smashers cause further mayhem, she knows she needs to come out of hiding and go help Sam and Bucky take them down, all while dealing with the fact that the United States government replaced her dad with some idiot as Captain America.

Meet Katerina (Katy) Rogers, the daughter of Natasha and Steve. Will take place during the falcon and the winter solider with some flashbacks to black widow and civil war. Also Tony is alive in this timeline, Steve did that snap instead, Natasha still died getting the soul stone.

Part Two

Walking along the road the three had been silent for twenty minutes now. Then Sam spoke up, “Wait, how did you know where to find me Kat?” He looked at her with questioning in his eyes.

“Oh that, ha easy. I tracked you through your phone, GPS can be really helpful.” She said with a laugh.

“Since when do you know how to hack?”

Looking at him with a smirk she responded lightly “Tony showed me how, about nine years ago. I just never felt the need to use it much on missions. What with Tony and all his techno stuff, and then when we went on the run it just never came up.

Bucky had been just staring ahead stoically the whole time, Sam just shook his head as they continued on. Looking over to Bucky Sam asked

“What going on in that cyborg brain of yours?”

“It’s computing”

Sam chuckled at that, while Katy broke out in a smile and tried not to snort. “You know what I can actually see it. I can see the gears turning. Oh, they’re malfunctioning shutting down. Yep, they’re on fire.”

Ignoring him Bucky interrupted with “We gotta figure out where the serum’s coming from.”

“Yeah. And how in the hell after 80 years are there eight super soldiers runnin’ loose?”

“Well, lets first ask where do we start? Who made the serum?” Katy spoke up from between them.

Slowly they heard the car come up beside them, honking. Looking over she noticed it was Walker and Hoskins, great she thought and tried not to roll her eyes too hard.

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” Walker asked the trio.

Pointedly ignoring him they continued walking on, a few moments later Walker continued on “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh?

And were pretty sure it’s one of the big three, so..”

Sam replies with “Aliens, androids, or wizards right?

“Pretty sure” Walker say’s looking at them hopefully.

Annoyed Bucky interrupts with “There’s no such thin as wizards.”

“Alright then it’s aliens or androids”

Sam responds with “Or super soldiers.”

Surprised Hoskins asks “Shit, super soldiers, for real?”

“Yeah”

“All right, well then we gotta work together” John says to them, having enough of the conversation Bucky say “That’s not happening”, which is quickly followed up by Katy with “Yeah, no. Were good, we can handle this ourselves.”

John replies “I think we stand a much better chance if we all just..”

Interrupting him Bucky yells quietly “Just cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean your Captain America.”

“Exactly, just saying you’re Captain America just doesn’t make it so. It’s title that has to be earned, and its sacred.” Katy responds with a scowl on her face. She can barely contain her rage at his presence. This was not good for her mental health.

“Look, I’ve done the work, okay?”

Looking at John, Bucky asks “You ever jump on top of a grenade?”

“Or put your life on the line for the greater good?” she adds on.

“Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times. It’s a thing I do with my helmet, it’s a reinforced helmet and I’ve put my life on the line many times in the heat of battle.” John responds, trying to defend his honor. “Look, it’s twenty miles to the airport you three need a ride?”

Katy just scoffs at this and looks ahead with her jaw clenched

“Guy’s. Gary stop. Get in.”

Reluctantly they stop and get, leaving her to be sandwiched between Sam and Bucky.

“Okay, so we’ve got eight super soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?”

Thinking it over Sam respond’s “They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip. Maybe they’re just trying to help.”

“They had a funny way of showing it.” Bucky says.

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record.” John says then looks over to Bucky and Katy and says “No offense”

She merely raises her eyebrow and declines to responds.

“We need to figure out where their going. How’d you track ‘em

Here? The flag smashers?” Sam asks.

Hoskins joins in “uh, no we didn’t track them, we tracked you, uh, through redwing.”

“You hacked my tech?” Sam say’s angered

Chuckling Walker replies “Sorry, it’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property.

Meanwhile Bucky was just staring directly towards Walker, noticing he voices out “Does he always just stare like that?”

Sam glances at Bucky and responds, “You get used to it.”

Clearing his throat John say’s to them “okay look, you know things have gotten kind of, uh…” Hoskins finishes his sentence with “Chaotic”

“Yeah. The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post blip.

Ignoring them for a few seconds she just tunes them out. Living in Europe for the past six months and moving around from place to place she’s seen the displacement camps and knows that the GRC has been useless for they people who never disappeared. As always the government was ignoring the larger picture in order to fix a smaller picture with a quick fix. Leading to more problems, like the flag smashers… If her dad was here he would know what to do…

Sighing she stopped her train of thought, with her heart constricting in sadness at the mere thought. It still hurt too much to think about them. She would drive herself insane if she kept thinking what if?

Coming back to the conversation at hand she heard Walker say “If you guys, if you joined up with us we could..”

“No” Bucky and Katy said in unison.

“I got mad respect for the three of you, the falcon, the winter soldier and Captain Widow. But you were getting your asses kicked till we showed up” Hoskins said to the three.

“What?” she asked in confusion, looking over at Hoskins she continued “What did you call me?

“Captain Widow, that’s your superhero name right? Cause your dad was Captain America and your mom was Black Widow”

Shaking her head in confusion and annoyance she asks

“Is that what everyone refers to me as?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Just no, I just…” she sighs and doesn’t know how to respond. Since when did she get that moniker? The Captain Widow? Seriously!.. Well, it was at least better than the other one she had been given…

While she pondering over the recent revelation Buck asks “Who are you?”

“Lemar Hoskins”

“Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter on tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins.”

“I’m Battlestar. John’s partner.

“Battlestar!?” Bucky says, clearly his hurt by this. With that he’s had enough and calls for the car to stop and leaves, she happily joins him. Glad to be gone from that situation. Walking side by side, she looks over to him and notices the grimace on his face. Clearly he was not taking the news well.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” he says dismissively. Sam then walks up to them and joins them on their silent walk back to the airport.

With that Bucky stands up and walk over to Sam and sits down next to him and looks between him and Katy. “There is someone that you two should meet.”

Some time later, Bucky is sitting on a crate thinking pensively while Sam and Katy are laying on the seats.

“Let’s take the shield. Let’s takes the shield and do this ourselves.”

“We can’t just run up on the man, beat him up, and take it.”

“Why not? It would certainly make me happy” Katy says, now she can’t stop picturing it, she doesn’t know why but something about his face just makes her want to punch him.

“Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?”

“Maybe”

“Possibly” she says.

“I’ll help you two in case you forgot. Sharon was branded enemy of the state, and Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Kat and I were on the run for two years. I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna live the rest of my life la vida loca. We just got our asses handed to us by super soldiers, and we got nothing.”

Interrupting she say responds “Not entirely true, we know there’s at least eight of them, and that they steal supplies, like medicine and stuff. Plus, they know how to handle themselves in a fight.”

With that they head off to Baltimore Maryland. Where Sam and Katy find out there was a black super soldier since the fifties and no one knew about it, not even Steve. Sam is angry at the revelation, how could no one tell him, why was it a secret. Katy is just shocked, she had no idea that the U.S had also had their own batch of super soldiers they were using, she thought it was just the Soviet Union with the Black Widow program.

While Sam is having it out with Bucky suddenly a siren wails out as a cop patrol car rolls up and stops in front of them. “What could they possibly want?” She asks out loud.

“Hey, is there a problem here?” One of the officers ask.

“No, we’re just talking.”

“We’re fine” Bucky adds on, Katy responds dismissively “We’re good, thank you though. We don’t need your assistance, have a good day”

The officer walks up to Sam and singles him out asking him for his ID, at this Bucky says “Man, seriously?”

“I don’t have ID, why?”

“Okay sir, just calm down.”

Affronted Sam goes on “I am calm, what do you want.”

“Just give him your ID”

“NO, I’m giving him shit We’re just talking”

“Hey is this guy bothering you two?”

“No, he’s not bothering us. Do you know who this is?”

The other officer walks up to his partner and whispers something to him, then the other one apologizes to Sam.

Before long, Bucky is being arrested for missing his court mandated therapy.

A couple hours later the three find themselves at the precinct. In the lobby Sam and Katy are waiting to hear news about Bucky when his therapist walks up to them.

“Sam. I’ve heard a lot about you.” turning to look over at Katy she asks “and who are you?”.

“Hi, I’m Katerina Rogers, but you can call me Katy. May I ask who you are?”

“I’m Dr. Raynor. I’m James’s therapist”.

Walking up to her he shakes her hand and replies “So nice to meet you. Thank you for getting him out.” Katy smiles at her nodding her head along.

“That was not me”

“Christina, it’s great to see you again.” Walkers voice rang out.

“You got to be kidding me you know him?” Sam asked Dr. Raynor.

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.

“I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in. Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer. walking up to her he smiled.

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?”

Pointing to himself “Um..”

Rolling her eyes on the sideline Katy thought to herself at least he did something good for Bucky, this way they can carry on the mission. He’s still pretentious, but I suppose he not the absolute worst…

Just then they released Bucky and he came walking up to the group.

With that Walker told them he would be outside waiting for them.

“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam and Katy.”

“That’s okay. I’ll be out here with Katy..” Sam replied while Katy also rang out “Oh, no I couldn’t join in..”

“That wasn’t a request”

The two looked to each other in defeat and then followed after Bucky and the Dr.

Sitting down at a table with Dr. Raynor on the other side the three were all seated next to each other with Katy in the middle, each were silent and brooding, clearly not wanting to be there.

“So.. Who would like to start?”

Pursing her lips Katy stubbornly remained silent. Sam chose to speak first “All right, look Dr. Raynor? I get it, why you want me to talk to freaky magoo over here. But I’m 100% fine”

“It is my job to make sure that you’re okay. You to Katy, I heard that you just disappeared six months ago without a trace after your parent’s funeral. I can imagination how hard that must have been. I know your friends here were worried about you. And so yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional but it’s the only way I can see if you’re getting over whatever’s eating at you guys.”

“Look I appreciate the concern I do, however I’m perfectly fine. I just needed a break, all good now..” Katy said trying to excuse herself. The Dr. just looked at her and then to the other two.

“This is ridiculous” Sam said afterwards, Bucky followed up with “Yeah. I agree.”

“See making progress already. So who wants to go first? No volunteers, wow. How surprising. Okay. We’re going to do an exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what kind of life they wanna build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”

“Absolutely not”

“Of course, not”

“What is that?”

“Okay it goes like this, suppose that while you’re sleeping a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?”

“In my miracle he would talk less.”

“exactly what I was gonna say, Isn’t that ironic?”

“These two would banter less.”

“You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise.”

“I like this one better” Bucky says with a smile while Sam smiled and responds “Oh, God. He’s gonna love this.” Katy merely says, “I’m good, I’ll just watch.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“This is right up your alley”

“Katy, you have to join in. I really think this would be helpful for you three.” Dr. Raynor responds to the three’s remarks. “Turn around, face each other.”

All three scoot out with their chairs and then scoot right back in forming a triangle with their knees touching.

“You should really enjoy this.” Sam says aloud to Bucky.

Looking right back at him with a sarcastic smile he replies, “I’m going to” While nodding his head. “This will be fun” Katy remarks, trying to lighten the mood and her nerves. Just great.

“Face each other”

“Let’s do it. Let’s stare” Bucky says to them.

“Get close”

“How much closer can we get? Our knees are touching?” Katy says confused. Bucky looks to his doctor and says “This is a good exercise. Thanks Doc.

“All right, good. All right, get close.”

With that they mange to get closer by arranging their knees to open up and allow the other ones to slide in closer on her left side Sam sits with his knees by hers, while on the right Bucky sits with his knee on hers, their other knees our on each other’s. All three our extremely uncomfortable.

“It’s a little close” Bucky says. “That’s what you wanted right?” Sam replies, Katy just sits there shaking her head. Dr. Raynor interrupts with “Guys, good. Now look at each other.

Looking up they look into each other’s eyes, Sam and Bucky are just staring at each other, both refusing to blink. While Katy looks right at their eyebrows refusing to make eye contact, fed up with the whole situation and their childish staring contest.

“Wait, what are you doing? Are you having a staring contest?” Snapping her fingers, she says blink to them repeatedly until they snap out of it. Katy looks up relieved.

“All right James, why does Sam aggravate you?”

Looking up her with a smirk he’s about to respond when she replies, “and don’t say something childish.”

At that he licks his lips and looks down, getting serious. Looking to Sam he asks, “Why did you give up that shield?”

At this Katy looks to Sam with the same questioning look, she desperately needs to know that answer to this. Why did he give it up to the museum when he could have given it to her…?

“Why are you making such a big deal out of something that had nothing to do with you?”

Finally, she speaks up, “Why didn’t you pass it on to me? If you didn’t want it?”

Looking over to her he responds “You went AWOL, we couldn’t find you. How could I have given to you when you weren’t there. I thought you would like that it went to the museum with the rest of the Captain America exhibition.”

Looking down in pain, she purses her lips and then glances back up

“Okay, so maybe it would have been hard to give to me if you couldn’t find me. I just don’t know why you thought I would rather have it collecting dust in a museum…”

Speaking up Bucky looked to Sam “Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield, that is… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.

“Shut up”

“So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you he was wrong about me.”

“Or me” she muttered.

“You finished?”

“Yeah”

“All right, good. Maybe this is something you or Steve will never understand. But can you except that I did what I thought was right?

Bucky just looks down; Sam absorbs this and scoffs “You know what Doc? I don’t have time for this. We have some real serious shit going on. So how about this? I will squash it right now. We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate, long vacations, and never see each other again.”

“I like that”

“Great”

“You two can’t mean that!?”

Nodding his head Sam responds “Well, let’s get to work. Thanks Doc, for making it weird. I feel much better. I’ll see you outside. Getting up Sam walk out with Katy right on his heels, she looks back to check on Bucky and then continues on outside.

Meeting Walker and Hoskins outside they conclude that it would be better to work apart, all thought now they know the leader’s name is Karli Morgenthau. While walking down the street Bucky speaks up and says he knows a place to start. So now their heading to Germany, off to see Zemo..

Walking along the hallway in the prison Bucky lets them know he’s going in there alone.

“Why?”

“You two are avengers. You know how he feels about that.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together.”

“He was obsessed with hydra. We have a history together. Trust me. I got it.”

With that Bucky walks off leaving Sam and Katy to wait there.

An hour later they find themselves in a old building while Bucky explains he wants to break Zemo out of jail, how he could escape.

Sam is not having it, and neither is Katy.

“You want to break out the guy who tried to break up the avengers and framed you for a bombing?” she asked him shocked. She knew they were desperate for leads but not that desperate.

“Where are we, Buck? Have you lost you mind?” Sam called out.

“We have no leads no moves, nothing”

“What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars. “

“And we also have eight super soldiers that are loose.”

“It’s not the worst plan I suppose. Better than joining up with Walker and Hoskins.” She joins in.

Looking over at her incredulously Sam continues “Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours. No offense.”

Turning on the lights he says “Offense”

“Why are we on a mechanic shop? That where we are right?” she says looking to Bucky for answers.

“Super soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy but he still has a code.”

“I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you and Kat. He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans for about it? It’s a rhetorical question. They didn’t I know why this matter to you, buts it pushing you off the deep end.”

“Sam, we don’t know how they’re getting’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I?”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything” Bucky empathizes.

Tilting her head at that Katy looks over and ask, “So what’s this hypothetical?”

As Bucky is explaining the gears in her head are turning and she starting to figure out that everything he is saying has either already happened or currently is. Half expecting Zemo to come walking in any minute now. She’s not disappointed when he does. Sam however is livid.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa”

“No listen”

“What are you doin’ here?” Sam questions.

“I didn’t want to you, cause I knew you wouldn’t let this happen. “

“What did you do?”

“We need him”

“This has gotta be good” she says.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam shouts

“If I may” Zemo begins before both Bucky and Sam interrupts yelling “NO”

Zemo mutters “apologies” as Katy watches and tilts her head. How polite she thought to herself.

Looking to both Katy and Sam Bucky say “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me.”

“Of course, you were innocent, and those accords were utter bullshit, just another way for the UN to try and make the avengers their very own weapon to be used when they so desired.” She looks to him, and licks her lips, “I would do it all over again”

“I’m asking for you to do it again” he says while looking into her eyes, mesmerized by his ice blues eyes she mutters “Always, I’ll always help if you need. Until the end.” Turning to Sam he looks at him questioningly, waiting for his answer.

Zemo breaks in with “I really think I’m invaluable..”

“Shut up” Sam breaks in and looks back to Bucky and Katy.

“Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.”

“Fair”

“Okay Zemo, where do we start?”

#bucky x y/n #bucky x oc #KaterinaRogers #bucky and reader

[blindedbythedarkness]

Josh,

I did it. I'm out. I'm finally done with my degree and away from that fucking university.

Had I not learnt the lessons that I did from your death, there's a good chance it would have finished me off at the end there. The way I was treated as I struggled with my thesis was unbearable and I've rarely felt so hopeless. I suppose it's a very fitting end to my time there. Three times my university experience nearly resulted in my suicide and though I somehow made it through, the marks it left on me will be visible for the rest of my life. I gained a degree, a master's degree in fact, but I lost so much more and yet compared to you, I was lucky.

I'm so relieved to be away from campus. As pretty as it was, it was always tainted by the 6-story grave that most people just knew as the maths building. For the last year or so, the main route around campus was changed to allow for more pedestrian areas, meaning every time I drove to campus I was forced to go right past that building. It didn't make me sad as such, more awoke a very primal hatred that made me want to get away from it as quickly as possible and yell "Fuck off! I hate you! You're disgusting!" (Don't worry Josh, I am aware it's pretty dumb to want a building to fuck off! But Monkey Brain doesn't think like that.)

I think it's kind of like when I was younger and living back in the house that had been flooded. I didn't realise quite how much I feared the rain until we moved away and I loved it again. I don't think I knew just how stifled and haunted I felt by the university campus, until I was away from it for good and realised I could breath again.

How the fuck was I there for four years, Josh? I'm a different person to the C that started there, the C that you met. I never felt like I had the full, typical uni student experience, but that doesn't mean I did nothing at all. Looking back, I did so much! I got drunk for the first time and the last and took care of so many drunk flatmates; I won the flat pool tournament; I joined the pride societies exec only a month after starting, despite not even being out back home. I went on my first date with a girl; met my current boyfriend of three years and started living as authentically me. I tried mixed netball and archery and wheelchair basketball; I auditioned for the university taskmaster; I made the most of the student cinema and even went to two showings of a film in one night (I think we can all agree that The Greatest Showman is...well pretty great). I went to a nightclub and unsurprisingly decided the SU rock nights were more my style; I played more laser quest than I ever did as a kid; I joined the musical theatre society and sang and danced despite my anxiety and atrocious coordination. I very nearly hit a tree after speeding down hills in a trolley; I won the flat screaming competition and I helped turn a flatmates entire bedroom upside-down (including the plug sockets). I tried yoga (it didn't cure me) and plenty of weird foods that I'd never heard of but "really aren't that posh"; I met people from all over the world; I made friends and at one time had an amazing little squad. I finally got to go to Eurovision party and a Halloween party; I stayed up far too late and learnt that I need at least four hours sleep to not drop off during lectures! I learnt that long-distance friendships can work; I learnt how to navigate all over the country on my own and I walked down the street dressed as Frank N Furter, in barely more than a corset and tights, in the middle of February. I power-walked to campus in just a hoodie and pyjamas past a tour of prospective students, only to miss a deadline by three minutes; I worked past my fear of rodents to get the three rat babies I have now. I hid from security in empty rooms late at night; lost so many pub quizzes and I learnt that the people from the Doctor Who society were some of the best company, so when I went to events it was never to watch the show.

I also learnt a lot of life lessons. I learnt that landlords will go to extreme lengths to try to keep your deposit but that they will see no problem leaving you without an oven for a month or without heating for three weeks in Winter. I learnt how to coexist with plants in the vents, black mold covering the ceiling and mushrooms growing out of the carpet. I learnt how to fight to get a deposit back; how to contact the council and to assert my rights as a tenant. I learnt how easily a crash can happen if just one person isn't paying attention; what happens when you ring 999 and that you really do talk total nonsense when in shock. I learnt to trust my gut when I knew I needed to see a doctor; that waiting lists are dangerously long and that you almost never get the healthcare you need without a fight. I learnt how it feels to be helpless and left to deteriorate; that trauma can trigger life-threatening, chronic health problems and that once you are disabled, people think your life has limited worth. I learnt that my university spends painfully little on student mental health support; how doctors deliver bad news and what it's like to lose a friend at 20 years old to suicide. I learnt that how to navigate grief while still taking exams; that spending time with the dead is often a lot more peaceful than with the living and what happens at a funeral. I learnt that when you make a complaint, there is no one else on your side; that the university cares more about its reputation than the actual service it provides and that my existence as a student beyond the fees I paid matters very little to the vast majority of university staff. I learnt that grief changes people and it's true that everyone deals with it differently; I learnt what it's like to see your group of friends fall apart in slow motion and that friends really can break your heart too. I learnt that academics will work you until you're on your knees so long as they get what they want; that sometimes begging for help isn't enough and what happens when you end up in A&E from self harm. I learnt that many people are unaware of how privileged they are; that many people will only care until it costs them something and that good friends are incredibly rare. And honestly? I learnt that life is a real, unfair bitch.

So I guess, after all that, it's no surprise that I'm a different person. I feel like I managed to age ten years, not four. And I mean, I'm glad for some of the life lessons because I know they'll help me later on but I can't help but wish I'd somehow learnt them another way. I don't know, Josh. University wasn't all bad, I met you for a start, but it also hurt me so badly. I'm so glad to be moving on. I wonder what I will learn at my new university; I wonder who I will be four years from now.

Love always, Josh,

C

#c rambles #mental health awareness #mental health #mental illness #suicide #suicide loss #suicide awareness #suicide prevention #grief #grieving #mourning #bereaved #bereavement #loss #university #university experience #graduation #depressed #depression

[sonicgetsrawed]

It’s 3 am and I Can’t Stop Thinking of You

Modern Au in which Ruddiger is a trickster and Varian may or may not gain a boyfriend because of it. Enjoy!

It was three am and he’d yet to get one fucking minute of sleep. Of course it happened on the day he decided to go to bed early instead of staying up all night to work on various projects. Not that he could really blame Ruddiger, it wasn’t his fault he was sick, he had to be for him to not stop crying. It started softly at first, but the raccoons' little whimpers and chitters soon filled the entirety of the apartment. It pained him to hear him like that and nothing he did seemed to help. He checked to see if he wanted to go for a walk, checked to make sure his litter box was clean, he checked him over to make sure he hadn’t acquired any injuries. There was nothing that he could find wrong with him, and yet he wouldn’t stop crying. The internet provided him with no answers, only increasing his worry that the only cause had to be that Ruddiger was on the brink of death. Varian spent about half an hour in which he was the one crying, holding Ruddiger tight and sobbing into his fur, during which he failed to notice the animal had stopped his crying. By the time he pulled himself together and conducted another internet search all the veterinary clinics were closed. It was in a moment of desperation that he messaged the school wide chat, in hopes someone might be able to help.

V: My raccoon won’t stop crying, all clinics are closed. Someone help! I’m getting desperate here!

He didn’t really expect a response, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted one, but he was on the verge of a panic attack and he just needed someone to tell him he was overreacting. Then of course, tonight of all nights the chat was dead. He was about to give up hope, allow himself to wallow in his worry, then his phone lit up, signaling that someone had messaged the chat.

H: Hey, I’m a vet tech, maybe I can help?

Varian startled a bit at the response. He hadn’t expected to get any actual help, just a wave of reassurances to ease his mind until he could take Ruddiger first thing in the morning, or later in the morning was more accurate.

V: Ok.

Varian cringed at his response. Okay? What was he supposed to do with that? They probably thought he was crazy now. He was genuinely surprised when they responded again.

H: Meet in twenty? On the corner outside the campus library?

Varian looked at his screen, a bit unsure on how to respond. Was he really about to meet a stranger at three am? Ruddiger’s cry confirmed it, he couldn’t let him suffer through the night when there was an option to ease his pain.

V: See you then!!

He grimaced, goddamn he was so awkward. Now he just seemed overeager. He didn’t have time to dwell on his social awkwardness, instead quickly throwing on some shoes and a hoodie, before getting Ruddiger in his carrier and heading out the door. His nerves were a mess, but hopefully it’d be worth it and this person could help. It didn’t take him long to get to campus, it was just a short walk from his apartment. He did regret not changing into something warmer, it was winter and the cool air did nothing for his light clothing. He should’ve waited, it took him a whole ten minutes to get to the meeting location, he’d have to wait another ten minutes in the cold. Ruddiger was wrapped tightly in a blanket, letting out a whimper every so often. “It’s okay, bud, we’ll get you all taken care of soon.”

It didn’t take long for someone to approach. He looked to be slightly older than him, his blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, his green eyes shining even in the dark. “My labs about a fifteen minute drive from here, I can run some tests there.”

He was walking away before Varian could respond, leaving the other to chase after him. “How- how did you I was the one you’re meeting with?”

He stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he looked around, before finally crossing his arms and looking at Varian. “I’m sorry, but do you see another idiot standing outside the library with a fucking raccoon? Cause I don’t.”

Varian wanted to say something in retaliation but he had a point. So he followed instead, letting the other take the lead again. “Right, sorry.” He should’ve known better, really. His eyes darted to the sidewalk, almost missing the way the other flinched at his apology.

“It’s fine. I’m Hugo, by the way. Thought you might want to know that much at least, before you get in my car.” Hugo said, stopping in front of a beat up car and fighting to get the door open. Varian stopped in his tracks, eyeing Hugo and the car wearily. He really shouldn’t be doing this, he didn’t know him, or where they’d be going. Once he got in the car it was essentially game over. He considered shooting his dad a text just so if he came up missing they’d have some lead, but he knew he’d just get berated for it. Hugo seemed to sense his hesitance. “Look, do you want help or not? I’m not going to murder you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He must’ve looked scared, Hugo’s eyes softening ever so slightly. Varian’s heart stopped in his chest, now that he could see him better, he was beautiful. His eyes sparkling in the light of the street lamp, he seemed sincere, and his uncle always said one could tell a lot from someone’s eyes. He nodded, pulling the passenger door open. “I appreciate your help. I’m Varian.”

Hugo simply nodded, getting in the car, and starting the engine. Varian slid into the passenger’s seat, buckling up and placing Ruddiger in his lap, thankful that Hugo wasted no time in turning on the heat. Hugo drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, the silence deafening to the both of them. “So, what are his symptoms?”

Varian startled, his nerves once again taking hold. “Oh, um he seems fine, he just won’t stop crying. I’m scared something’s wrong.”

Hugo hummed, tapping his fingers once again, Ruddiger drowning the sound with a whimper. “We’ll definitely have to run some tests, probably blood work is best. I’ll give him a once over as well, listen to his heart and lungs and all that. If it’s something internal though you’ll definitely have to go to an actual vet later.”

Varian’s eyebrows knit together in concern, he was scared something serious was wrong with Ruddiger. He couldn’t lose his only friend, his best friend. He felt tears starting to prick his eyes, he couldn’t cry in a stranger’s car, he refused. His shoulders shook from the effort, but he didn’t care, this was already embarrassing enough. He completely missed the concerned look Hugo sent his way.

“Hey.” Varian’s head snapped up, smiling a bit at Hugo’s soft smile. “I’m sure he’s fine. Seems pretty tough to me.”

Varian smiled. “Thanks. For doing this, for helping me. You didn’t have to.”

Hugo shrugged, his smile becoming slightly more teasing. “What else was I going to do at three in the morning?”

“Sleep? That’s what I was trying to do.” Varian laughed, covering his mouth when it turned into a snort. “Sorry.”

Hugo laughed at that. “Don’t apologize. That was adorable.” Varian’s face flushed, turning his eyes away. Hugo cleared his throat. “I, uh, we’re here.”

Varian nodded, exiting the car and following the other inside. “So, uh, what made you want to be a vet tech?” He asked, trying to fill the silence that plagued them again.

Hugo stiffened, swiping his ID and holding the door for Varian to enter. “Not my choice. I personally would’ve loved to go into engineering. That’s what you study, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” He asked, tilting his head. He was pretty sure he didn’t know Hugo, so how did he know he was an engineering major?

“Remember that seminar last semester? The one on Demanitus?” Hugo clarified, as he went about preparing his station. Varian getting Ruddiger out and onto the table.

Varian definitely remembered the seminar. He’d been looking forward to it all year, then when the time came there was an annoying blonde that- oh. “That was you?”

Hugo shot him a wink, already beginning his examination on Ruddiger. Varian’s mouth hung open, he couldn’t believe it. He’d asked so many good questions, and sure he’d been annoying about it, but he made some really solid points. “How are you not an engineering major?” Varian asked before he could stop the words.

“I told you it wasn’t my choice. Now, can you be quiet while I check his breathing and heart?” Varian shut his mouth, waiting patiently as Hugo went about his task. Eventually he removed the stethoscope, placing it around his neck, and began checking the rest of Ruddiger. “My, uh, guardian, I guess, refused to pay for my schooling unless it was veterinarian school. So, here we are.”

He looked sad, not that Varian could blame him. It was terrible to be forced to pursue something that one wasn’t passionate about. “I’m sorry.”

Hugo laughed, scratching Ruddiger underneath his chin. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just-“

Hugo held up a hand. “It’s fine, really.” He didn’t believe it, but he decided to drop the subject, raising an eyebrow when Ruddiger started to purr. “He’s fine, by the way. This little bastard just wanted attention and I’ll be damned if he didn’t know how to get it.”

Varian stares at him in awe, not believing a word he was saying. “Wait, you mean he was faking it?!”

Hugo hummed in confirmation, Ruddiger continuing to purr as he was scratched and pet. “Yup. Little bastard has you wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”

“He- I am not!” Varian protested, scooping Ruddiger up and placing him in his carrier, despite his cry of protest.

“Whatever you say. Should we get out of here then?” Hugo said more than asked, already holding the door open for Varian. He simply nodded following him out, his face burning in embarrassment. He should’ve guessed it really, Ruddiger always knew how to get what he wanted, he’d just never gone to such extremes before. He’d have to keep a better eye on him from now on. The ride back to the library was in a more comfortable silence than the ride over, the emotional rollercoaster of the night weighing Varian down. He almost didn’t catch Hugo’s words as they pulled next to the building. “It’s nice that you care so much about the little bastard. He’s lucky to have you.”

Varian stared at him for a moment, a blush dusting his cheeks. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. Not many people would meet a stranger at three in the morning to help out.” Hugo simply smiled, watching as Varian got out of the car. Varian hesitated for a moment, not feeling quite right leaving things like this. “Hey!” He called, regretting it the instant the word left his mouth and Hugo rolled down the window.

“You forget something?” He asked, leaning down so he could see him out of the window.

“Yeah, uh, thanks again. Maybe I can make it up to you? Coffee? Next Saturday?” Varian asked, his voice wavering slightly, half of him wanting him to say no and the other more prominent part wanting him to say yes.

Hugo smiled, shooting him another wink. “It’s a date.” Varian’s blush returned tenfold, forgetting completely that he didn’t have a time, meeting place, or Hugo’s phone number. By the time he realized the other was long gone. Not that it mattered, the next Saturday Varian was back in front of the library at three in the morning waiting for Hugo, a smile gracing his features as the other rounded the corner.

#tangled the series #varian #hugo #varian/hugo #varigo #pre relationship #varian and the seven kingdoms #modern au #ruddiger

[colour-outside-the-liness]

Oh wow, you two have been friends for a long time then! I know what's that like, I've known my best friend who lives in Spain since we were 8! Definitely awesome to have someone like that in your life. Are you still going to be roommates when the baby comes? And that was really thoughtful of your ex making sure you didn't travel alone.

Canada is really cold tho, so if you're okay with that you should def move there! Ah well, I'm doing better now so that's what matters, all the horrible worries I had when I lived back home are gone atm.

Yeah, that's the spirit! you can do all US states even if it takes you 43 years, that's plenty of time! hahaha And your welcome, it's one of my favourite fics.

Your mind is great, don't worry. At least something good came out of it haha.

Oh so people make her a pisces then, I see. I've met a pisces who was kinda like Dani once so that's why I said she has that kind of energy, but she def has fire on her chart too. And yeah I can see some virgo traits in her, but she's very sensitive and a bit naive so I guess pisces makes more sense.

I had to look up what a badger was hahaha never heard of them before.

I'm sorry you had to go through that. Sounds scary. And you still have to take medication bc of it. The threat of catching covid must've made that 10x worse too. And I can only hope to learn from my mistakes at the very least.

People who made thobm are fucking savages tbh hahaha. 😂 Kinda wish they had cast Oliver as Jamie like they originally intended but then we wouldn't have our damie... don't know what's worse honestly.

Oh Yorkshire accent is pretty cool too, isn't the lead singer of the Arctic Monkeys from Yorkshire? Honestly think all the language variations and different accents that come with each region are really fascinating. And that happens with all languages, not just English. Wish I could speak all languages in the world, that would be a cool superpower! I guess it makes sense you like American accents more bc it's so different from yours. I've become desensitized to North American accents just bc I hear them all the time, but I see how it would be more appealing to you.

Oooh I love that possibility of it becoming a real fic soon hahaha. Worst part of letting it cook is that I already have the finished illustration in my head but the transferring to reality part is not working rn. Wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy tbh.

You def had a busy weekend and start of the week! I have a virgo in my life rn too I know the struggle. Her birthday is this weekend in fact. I had an okay weekend thank you! Managed to catch up with that pirate AU you recommended and I'm already planning fanart for it that will probably never see the light of day haha! Are we going to have more smut this next MoU update? (need to know for scientific purposes 🔬)

Yeah we've been friends for years we met when we were 14 and are still friends now at 27 so it's been one of my longest friendships I have a friend that I met at 4 but we're not as close as we once were still really good friends but not best friends haha!! aww that's so cool that you guys have been friends for that long!! Yeah we're still gonna live together when the baby comes- we're looking for a bigger place right now to make room for the baby and her boyfriend (he still doesn't live with us yet but will soon.... *insert gif of Monica Gellar one friends saying "And now I have to live with a boy" while crying* Yeah my ex is a super thoughtful person and she just didn't want me travelling so far alone when I had never flown before because when I went to Paris with my college we drove there and went on the Eurostar and it took us 13 hours to get there but I had never flown before going to LA and I picked an 11 hour flight for my first one so she wanted someone to fly with me she's a very thoughtful person I LOVE the cold weather I am so sad right now because it's bene quite warm in the north of England I can't wait until it's like -3 degrees Celsius during the winter nights again so I am sure I would love Canada I am fine with it taking me 43 years if that's what it takes haha I just wanna hit all 50 states I think it would be so fun to do it and to be able to say I'd done it.  Haha thank you!! As long as something good comes out of it that's all I can hope for but there are times I've done things and people are like "And you're allowed to teach kids?" Like I can be really dumb sometimes haha.  Yeah I've seen a couple of fics where she has been a pisces I think with it never being said and with VP never saying what she thinks she is people have looked at her personality and matched it up to zodiac signs- a lot of the pisces I've met haven't been like Dani like I said but I do trust what people who know more about zodiac signs say because I know nothing and I just pick a random date each time so CBML she's a Leo and MoU she's a virgo and in SLS she's gonna be a Scorpio because that's just how I've done it haha but I really know nothing about zodiac signs other than what you have told me!! There different types of badgers there are honey badgers and they're more in America here we have a different type of badger and they look so cute but they are really vicious if they feel attacked or scared so try snd avoid badgers... more than that though we just have cows, geese, ducks, swans... lots of foxes but noting dangerous like bears or anything its a very boring place to live!! Yeah it is pretty scary but I just take everything one day at a time- I actually caught Covid last year because of how much time I was in the hospital having treatments for my condition I caught Covid and ended up in the hospital for a week while they had to give me loads of medication and blood transfusions and had to put me on a fluid drip because I was really dehydrated and that was really scary but luckily I was okay and now I am fully vaccinated so hopefully I won't catch it again. I think you will definitely learn from your mistakes I feel like some mistakes have to be made in life so you can grow from them Oh they were definitely savage but I love Bly Manor so much and I will watch it so many more times I can't wait for it to come out on DVD!! Like it was heart breaking but so beautiful and we got such an incredible wlw relationship from it and some great representation and I love that!! Would be interesting to see how it would've affected people had Oliver played Jamie though Yeah Alex Turner is from Sheffield which is South Yorkshire so again we have a similar accent but it's different because I am from further North but there are things that we say in a similar way because we’re from Yorkshire just different parts of Yorkshire... there are four Yorkshires: North, East, West, and South haha and all are in the north of England  Yeah I think that’s the case every where I think accents and languages are so interesting and I would love to be able to speak any other language but I only speak English in my school it wasn’t seen as being overly important to learn a language and I have tried learning them since leaving school but I struggle now  There are some American accents I love (Southern and Midwestern) so when I heard Dani speak I was like 😍🥵🥰 because I love that type of accent I have become desensitised to some American accents that are just standard ones from watching so many movies and TV shows but there are some accents that just make me do heart eyes haha  I am hoping it can become a real fic soon but I am struggling with some stuff but keeping hopeful with it!! Awwh no I’m sorry it’s so hard for you I hope it gets better soon that you’re able to get it onto a page!!  I have had such a busy weekend and part of the week had a bit of a busy day today too and looking after my niece again tomorrow not rest for me it would seem but it’s fine I don’t mind keeping busy!! Well happy birthday to her I hope she has a great day!!  Oh yay I’m glad had an okay weekend and that you were able to catch up on the pirate AU and that you already have fan art planned for it- even if no one ever sees that fanart!! No there is no smut in this chapter of MoU some implied smut but no actual smut- there will probably be smut in chapter 9 though because y’know... it’s me haha 😂 

#lib3rtin33

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #373

“warm me up in a nova’s glow  /  and drop me down to the dream below”

Have you ever kissed someone that you thought you’d never kiss? Welp, never thought I'd kiss a girl for most of my life. When was the last time you ate take-out and what was it that you ate? Mom bought us breakfast at Bojangle's the morning after my sleep study. I got a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit. Do you enjoy when guys hit on/flirt with you or does it normally make you uncomfortable or annoyed? When was the last time more than one guy was flirting with you at a time? It makes me uncomfortable, especially if it's very obvious and pushy. Like some respectful flirting is fine and can be flattering if I'm single, but you better respect my boundaries and not act like a dog. I don't think two guys have both been openly interested in me since Juan and Jason in high school. Can you name five things you enjoy looking at pictures of? Animals, flowers, waterfalls, expressions of love between people, and boudoir. Would you rather have an eternal winter or an eternal summer? Both sound pretty sucky, but an eternal summer sounds worse. Do you know much about the Greek gods? Not anymore. I did in high school, as mythology was an elective I took. Are there a lot of stray cats and dogs near where you live? Not in this neighborhood. How would you cope with living in isolation away from society? How long do you think you could cope before you went mad? Oh god, I couldn't cope. I'd lose my shit so fast. Have you ever found any hidden treasure? No. Would you ever want to hibernate through the winter? No, I enjoy winter. Which holiday do you prefer, Halloween or Christmas? I like the Halloween vibe more, but I enjoy Christmas more as a holiday. Do you prefer hot or cold drinks overall? Cold. What’s the smallest thing you’ve ended a relationship over? I don't believe I've broken up with anyone over something small. Have you or a member of your family been diagnosed with COVID yet? My older sister got it. It was hell. What’s the dominant color in the room you’re in at the moment? An off-white. Do you know who your mom’s favorite singer is? James Hetfield of Metallica. Easy. What room in your house is the messiest? The spare room. Have you ever used a “puppy face” to get your way? Ha, yeeeaaah... If you could change any law that exists in your current country, what would it be and why? Here comes free healthcare. For obvious reasons. What were the last toppings you had on a pizza? Pepperoni. Would you rather spend an hour walking a dog or riding a horse? Riding a horse. Do you freak out when you need to visit the doctor or the dentist? Nah. Do you prefer The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit movies, if you like any of them? I haven't watched either. Which Harry Potter film was your favourite? What about your least favourite? I haven't watched those, either. What do you think about nose piercings? I like them. Nostril studs especially are really cute imo. How many floors does your house have? One. What’s your favorite flavor of Kool-Aid? I don't really like Kool-Aid anymore. Have you ever had anything removed from your body? Yeah, a cyst. Do you enjoy sappy love songs? Unabashedly. Do you wear a one-piece or a two-piece when you go swimming? One-piece. What would be your biggest pet peeve in a relationship? Not communicating your feelings straight-up. Be straightforward and honest with what you're going through with your partner, for the love of God. Have you ever had a teacher hit on you? Have you ever hit on a teacher? No to both. Do you tend to eat more on Halloween, Thanksgiving, or Christmas? Christmas, because of chocolate stocking stuffers and boxes from Dad, haha. Do you know what an "AMV" is? Yeah, I used to make them. Do you think you have a sad life? In some ways, yeah. What’s one award show you have to watch every year? None. Who do you like more: the Batman or the Joker? The Joker, particularly Heath Ledger's. Do you like Rammstein? Love 'em. What is your favorite small dog breed? Aesthetically, I think pugs, but I've said before and I'll say it a thousand more times: I don't support breeding them. What was the first comic book you ever had an obsession over? I've never been obsessed with a comic book. Do you like kids pop-up books? Those were my absolute favorite kind AS a kid. What is your mother's mother's maiden name? Ummm I'm pretty sure Collins. Have you ever pet a monkey? No. What’s your favorite Owl City song… besides "Fireflies?" I actually really like "Hot Air Balloon." What’s your fave Miley Cyrus song? I don't know many, but I do know "The Climb" is absolutely gorgeous. Fave Rascal Flatts song? Probably "My Wish." But I also really like "Why" and "What Hurts the Most." Fave Justin Bieber song? None. Miley Cyrus, Demi Lavato, or Selena Gomez? Jesus, you really like bands that I don't, haha. I don't know any Demi or Selena songs, so idk. Fave Eminem song? Oh man, I do like a lot of Eminem. I know it's so cliche, but I genuinely adore "Love The Way You Lie." It gives me goosebumps. Do you think you could survive a month of solitary confinement? NO. Absolutely not. I would lose my motherfucking mind. What is something that you find utterly boring? Sports, save for dance, are incredibly blah to me. What noise/sound can put you to sleep? Gentle, steady rain tapping on the window. When you are upset, do you tend to shut others out? YYYYYYYYYYYEP. When was the last time you felt abandoned by someone? bleh Does the sight of blood gross you out? No. Do you like red roses, or do you prefer another color? I love red ones, but I really, really like the ones with a pink-peach gradient. Have you ever gone through a red light? I think I MIGHT have accidentally because I was zoned out, but I don't THINK so. Do you fail to stop for stop signs, sometimes? I can't recall if I ever have. What is one of your major turn-offs? Misogyny. The moment you act like you exceed my worth just because you have a dick, byyyyyeeee~ During which year of your life were you the most unhappy? 2016 was hell on Earth for me. Have you ever seen a blue jay in person? I have. Do you like leaves better in the summer/spring, or in the fall? I'd like to meet someone that actually chooses anything besides fall, lol. Do you like the appearance of green eyes? YES! Do you typically like green-colored candies? Yessss. It's not rare for them to be my favorite flavor of whatever the thing is. Who is the most energetic and happy person you know of? My nephew, omg. Have you ever encountered a black widow? I actually have seen at least one to my memory. They're native here. Has an animal ever peed on you? Yes. Do you prefer green or purple/red grapes? I enjoy both, but I prefer green IF they're actually firm. What color is your birthstone? Purple. Why did you leave your house last? To go to the TMS office. I have to go there every day (but the weekends) for two months for treatment now. Is anything on your body sore? Well, inevitably my upper right arm, where my tattoo is. It looks so fucking beautiful redone though, it's all worth it. :') Have you ever eaten a cookie cake before? If so, was it good? Hell yeah man, cookie cakes are great. Do you lose interest in someone easily? I'm quite the opposite. Who was the last person you flirted with? Sara. Do you still talk to the person you fell the hardest for? No. Who’s the last person that slept over your house? My sister and her husband. Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Yes. Are you currently sad about anything? I mean, I always am about something. How would you feel if your last ex fell in love with someone else? I would be super happy for her. Who was the last person who left your life and hurt you? Colleen. Do you know anyone who died of breast cancer? I might know of somebody, but all I know personally are survivors. Do you miss any of your old friends? Well of course. Have you ever been used before? I don't know. Ever taken a picture kissing someone? Yes. What’s the last thing you and your sibling laughed about? I Don't know. I haven't seen either in some time. What’s the last thing you took a picture of? A meme to send Sara, haha. Do you listen to classical music? No. Do you tell your parents who you like? Why or why not? I mean, I don't just randomly bring it up because just being like "hey I like this person _____ now" seems weird. Now if I was asked or mentioning it is somehow relevant, then I will. Who’s the most annoying person in your neighborhood? The damn dog next door who never shuts up. Name one of your psycho exes? None. I was the "psycho ex," and it's embarrassing as shit. Do you make your own clothes and/or add designs to them on your own? No. Do you ever feel guilty eating meat? It's not something I always actively think about, but subconsciously, I absolutely always do. Especially knowing my family doesn't buy from "ethical" markets, but instead big ones. "Ethical" in quotations because there is no moral way to slaughter an animal for food, but at least there are smaller farmers who can give their livestock a better, cleaner, happier life. What are you listening to at the moment? I'm semi-watching Gab play Bioshock. I'd never seen the game before, so just kinda vicariously checking it out. Seems all right. Does anything hurt right now? My tattoo is definitely in the sore phase. It'll start scabbing soon. I literally can't stop looking at it, I love it so much. How many years have you lived at the house you’re living in right now? Around 1 1/2. Have you ever lived in a different country that the one you’re living in? No. Which of your parents will you see next? I live with my mom and rarely see my dad, so. Do you like Chinese food? Only pork fried rice and egg rolls, really. What sort of music were you brought up on? When all of us kids were very little, Mom would usually play her rock channels on the radio, sometimes a (clean) CD. She also would ensure to play kids' cassettes sometimes, too, like Raffy or whoever it was. Once Ashley reached a certain age, she would always ask for a pop channel to be put on, so most of my childhood was that and some country music, too.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''castle of glass'' by linkin park

[jadedjxsung]

‘heather’ - h.h.j

i am sad and am listening to conan gray’s new album kid krow - this is inspired by ‘heather’ from that album. listen to it. it’s sad and i cry a little bit every time because i kinda relate to it too with my actual friends... anyway. this is kinda like me fictionally venting about it but through fanfic so i hope you enjoy this angst.

genre: angst, angst, angst. highschool au.

tw/cw: swearing, alcohol (kinda underage drinking? tbh i’m assuming they’re all above 18 so idk guess it depends on the laws where you live, where i am it’s 18)

pairing: hyunjin x reader i guess? kinda but also not really. you’ll see what i mean when you read the story.

just over 3k words

-

it was the third of december, a sunday, approximately 4pm. you and your best friend (whom you were definitely, absolutely not in love with) were hanging out at his house, having spent most of the day watching movies in the pillow fort you had made in his living room. your phone buzzed beside you, under the soft mink blanket.

“i gotta head home now.” you sat up, stretching, looking down at him. 

he was pouting. (god it just made him more adorable-) “come on, five more minutes?”

“i can’t jinnie, my grandparents from out of town are visiting and mum wants me there to see them.” he sighed. 

“argh, fine.” you both crawled out of the fort, and you reached the front door. opening it, a cold wind blew in. you were in a somewhat thin t-shirt. “take my sweater.” before you could even attempt to protest, he’d whipped the black sweater off and threw it at you. it landed over your head. you pulled it over your body, instantly swamped in the soft material. (it smelled just like him too, you tried to ignore the way it made your heart race.)

“thanks.” 

“you’re welcome. it looks better on you.” he grinned. you hugged briefly, and then began the walk home, head spinning as you tried to remember to breathe. after the dinner with your grandparents, you sat in your room, in his sweater, inhaling the scent and playing with the sweater paws. you fell asleep with a soft smile on your face.

-

it was the end of the winter holidays, spring rapidly approaching. school was back, and you and hyunjin were sitting in the cafeteria during lunch with your friends. it was loud, the mass of teenagers chatting loudly. you were listening to felix as he was talking about what had happened in drama, recreating the scene with jisung. you glanced at hyunjin, soft smile on his pretty face. it disappeared as he began staring, a look you’d never seen on his face before. you followed his gaze, hitching your breath at who he was (now very obviously) staring at. he was completely mesmerized.

of course it was a girl. admittedly a very beautiful one, clearly a new student. imagine, the definition of the soft girl aesthetic - perfect, slightly curled brown hair, oversized pale pink knitted sweater, half-tucked into light blue mom jeans rolled up at the ankle, white adidas finishing the look. round frame glasses, and the perfect smattering of freckles over her nose and cheekbones.

perfect, perfect, perfect. 

picture perfect.

as she walked past your table, you glanced at hyunjin. he was, as felix would say, ‘absolutely whipped’ - heart eyes, mouth slightly agape, relaxed facial expression.

you quickly exhaled. “shut your mouth before you start drooling.” you snapped.

he jolted out of his daydream at your sudden sharp tone. “shit, was i staring?”

“you’re whipped, bro.” 

“she’s sitting alone, i’ll go talk to her.” he got up quickly, moving away from your table. you observed his body language - you could imagine him giving her that charming smile, while it wasn’t as pretty has the one where his eyes crinkle up, it was still infectious and entrancing at the same time.

“sorry, y/n.” jisung murmured in your ear. though he was smiling, his eyes said otherwise. he knew how you felt about your mutual friend and was always sympathetic towards you.

“we’ll see how long this one lasts, i guess.” you shrugged. something was different about this one, you could tell. it used to be more puppy love, but this looked more like real, romantic love. and it kind of scared you a little bit.

“i’m gonna go to the library.” you got up, bag slung over one shoulder, putting on a podcast (welcome to night vale, a long time favourite of yours) as you sat down. you pulled out your english book and a sharpie, idly doodling patterns and writing down quotes as you hear them. you had a free period after lunch, so you stayed there until the end of the day, the covers of your english, history, calculus, physics, chemistry, and music book covers were completely covered in drawings, and you had little sharpie smudges all along your hands and arms.

-

things had been getting better for hyunjin (and worse for you) - he shared a few classes with the girl he learned was from england, called heather. and she was all he talked about - until she began sitting with your group during breaks. 

“hey, y/n, i know you missed english yesterday so i copied my notes for you.” she smiled, passing you a few pages of paper as everyone met at your table. even her writing was neat and tidy, everything laid out nicely. your notes were exactly the opposite of this, being an incomprehensible mess. jisung had already given you his notes, so you folded them and shoved them into your bag. more ashes for the fireplace, you supposed.

“thanks.” you forced a smile. “much appreciated.”

“no problem!” god, her smile was perfect too. perfect teeth. it made you seethe on the inside. and, she’d taken your usual spot at the edge of the table, across from hyunjin; now you sat sandwiched between jisung and felix. while their antics still made you laugh, it was getting harder to pretend to smile at hyunjin and heather. picture perfect heather. she was everything you were not - twice as pretty as you, and kind too. it just made you more bitter.

you sighed, relieved when the bell rang to indicate the end of lunch - and you were the fastest to leave, too. music went by faster than usual, as you were practicing for your solo pieces. as you were leaving, you saw hyunjin walking by himself.

this was a rare opportunity, and so you seized it.

“hey, jinnie. movie night at mine?”

he shook his head. “sorry y/n, i’m busy. heather and i are gonna be going to...” as soon as he shook his head you sighed, regretting asking. you didn’t bother to listen to his short spiel.

“that’s okay.”

“what about next wednesday? we can hang out at mine?”

“yeah, sure!” it was the first thing that had you looking forward to being around hyunjin in a while.

-

the next day, you didn’t see hyunjin or heather until lunch. you nearly turned on your heel and walked out.

heather was wearing one of hyunjin’s sweaters - of course it wasn’t just any old sweater either. one of his favourites, a bright yellow one that you had bought for him about a year ago. of course he would give her that one. fucking typical.

you breathed in and out a few times to try and calm yourself down. at least it’s polyester, right? not like the woolen one he gave you.

your breathing didn’t really work - you sat down, (accidentally) slamming your drink bottle on the table.

“you good?” jisung asked gently. you shook your head slightly. “do you want to go outside?”

“please.” you both got up, exiting the cafeteria with your bags. it was cool outside, and overcast. you both walked across the field, sitting at a picnic table.

“what’s happened?”

“she’s wearing the sweater i bought for him, like, a year ago.”

his expression softened. “oh...”

“yeah. god- i just- i...” you buried your face in your cold hands. silently, jisung hugged you as you began to cry.

“i can try talking to him if you want.”

“i-it’s okay, there’s probably no point.”

“you never know, i’ll ask him about the sweater for you.”

“much appreciated.” you sighed. you two stayed in that position for some time. he looked up, behind you, seeing felix approaching.

“felix is coming over, is that cool?”

“yeah, yeah.”

“hey, uhh, i wanted to see if y/n was okay.” he sat down at the table, across from you both.

“i’m not, but thanks for showing concern, lix.”

“can i ask why?”

you sighed. “long story short, i have liked hyunjin for years and he’s basically in love with heather and she’s currently wearing the sweater i bought him a year ago.”

“yikes.”

“mhm...” you sat slumped for several minutes. for the rest of lunch, jisung and felix sat with you. while they still cracked jokes here and there, it was strange for them to be as quiet as they were.

-

you felt a little better now that felix and jisung both made the extra effort to try and cheer you up. hangout sessions with them both were quite common - though today it was wednesday and you were looking forward to hanging out with hyunjin. just you two. no perfect heathers to distract your best friend. 

waiting outside the main building for him, you saw him and walked over. “oh, hey y/n!” he smiled at you. the eye crunch one. your heart instantly a puddle on the ground.

“hey, hyunjin.” you began walking to his place, and it was just like old times - plenty of teasing and hyunjin being overdramatic while you rolled your eyes at his antics. all was well and you felt the happiest you’d been in some time. 

all was well.

two minutes past seven, you and hyunjin were in his room, doing your own thing, occasionally showing each other memes or tiktoks. a knock on the door caused you to flinch slightly. of course, being his bestfriend of several years meant that you had been interrupted by both of his parents knocking on the door numerous times; this was an unfamiliar knock.

and who comes into the room, but perfect heather. with her perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect handwriting, perfect everything. 

“oh, hi y/n! sorry to interrupt, i’m happy to leave-” 

“it’s fine, see-”

“no, no, no, you can stay if you’d like.” hyunjin beamed.

“are you sure? i wouldn’t want to impose.”

“it’s fine.” you got up, walking towards the door, glaring at hyunjin. “i was just about to leave.” as the weight of your schoolbag met your shoulder, you shut the door. firmly. god, how you wanted to hit him sometimes. 

-

a week and a few days later, and here you are at 1am on a saturday morning, dissociating at a party, hosted by jisung’s friend chan. you’re sitting on an armchair in the corner, with chan’s dog sitting by your feet, head on your lap while you gently patted it and scratched behind it’s ears. it was loud, and not your scene, and you hate it, but someone had to look out for slightly intoxicated jisung and felix and you didn’t like the idea of them doing something stupid (which was a very likely thing to occur if you weren’t there to supervise them). 

your charges are sitting on a couch with changbin, not too far from where you were, only two or so metres away. on another couch, hyunjin and perfect heather, as well as minho and another dude they were friends with that you recognised from class but didn’t know the name of. (jeongoon? no, jeongin.)

you shift your gaze from jeongin (jeongoon??) to hyunjin and heather. he has one arm around her shoulder. almost like phantom pain, you shiver, suddenly feeling cold. he used to do that with you. emphasis on used to.

you sit, patting chan’s dog (whose eyes are drooping, you feel exactly the same), wallowing in your bitterness. it makes you sad. in any other circumstance, you’d probably be good friends with her. she’s the definition of an angel, yet something about her makes you tick. she’s such an angel but you dislike her. immensely. not hate. it was a shame, really.

it is also a shame that with the blue and red lighting, it falls perfectly on hyunjin’s features, making him seem more ethereal. oh, how you wish you were in heather’s position. if you were in her place, you would’ve kissed him, right there. (after years of nearly doing it but stopping at the last second before he noticed and anything happened.) he’s three metres away from you, but you can picture his face close-up. he’d look so much better up close. how you wish you were heather. 

gently lifting the dog’s head from your lap (quietly apologising to it too), you stand in front of jisung and felix. 

“i’m leaving. don’t die. text me when you get home.”

jisung pouts. “aww, do you have to leave?”

“i’m not really having fun, there’s no point in me being here.” jisung stood up quickly, clinging to your shoulder as he sways slightly.

“i’ll walk you home, it’s dangerous out there, y/n. big scary spiders and shit.” his eyes are glassy and wide.

“no. no, you stay here, ji, have fun. i’ll be fine.” you force a smile for the boy clinging to you, not unlike a koala. 

“but what if like- a huge fuckin’ spider eats you?! what would i do without my y/n?” 

you chuckle at his antics. “you’re probably more likely to get me eaten by a big spider than to protect me from one, you idiot.” 

a new voice caused you to tense up a little bit. “i’ll walk them home, you stay here jisung.” 

the dark haired boy loosens his grip. “okay, if hyunjin’s walking you home that’s fine. but you should definitely not tell him anything y/n.” he sat back down again, almost like nothing had happened. hyunjin follows you out of chan’s place, nearly losing you a few times as you quickly picked your way through the crowd. 

you stand on the footpath outside as he approaches you. silently, you walk together for about five minutes, both lost in your own thoughts.

“i feel like we hardly talk anymore, y/n.”

you huff, shoving your hands further into your jacket pockets. “i wonder why.”

“well, why?” he ignores your sarcasm.

“heather.”

“what about her?”

your feet stop. you exhale sharply. this had been going on for long enough, and internally apologise to jisung for doing the exact opposite of what he told you to do. 

“you want to know? fine, i’ll tell you. i have been in love with you for years but have been too afraid to say it, when you had these little crushes on others and always having these short little flings with them but it didn’t matter because you always came back to me. then perfect heather turns up and you very obviously fall in love with her which is fair enough, and i feel horrible because she’s so perfect and lovely but i can’t help but despise her because she’s the one you love, not me. and it breaks my heart because you’re both so nice and she doesn’t deserve me being an asshole to her like this but i can’t help it, her perfection just irritates me in ways that i can’t describe. 

it’s like you replaced me, but with the perfect girl that you fell in love with while i sit in the corner, upset and bitter, because i am ultimately a coward who doesn’t know how to confess to their best friend. also, you gave her the sweater i bought you, the yellow one, but clearly don’t remember that because i’m just not that important to you anymore. everything is heather, heather, heather, with you and regardless of the romantic feelings, i miss you and want to know what happened to my best friend.” 

your heavy breathing after your rant filled the silence. 

“y/n i...”

“look, you don’t have to respond. i just needed you to hear that. i’m tired of trying to hide how i feel.” you turn on you heel and began walking quickly - your house was only a block away. curse hyunjin and his long legs.

“look, i’m sorry, y/n. i am so sorry that you feel like that. i’m sorry that i became so focused on one person. i’m sorry i can’t return your feelings, but i still love you as a friend. can we still be friends?”

you stop again, keeping your gaze towards the ground. “i don’t know if i can ever see you as just a friend.”

“so... no?”

you breathe in. “no, hyunjin. we can’t be friends.” you look up at him. you’d never seen him look this broken, this tormented, and it was because of you. you hold your arms out, and he falls into your embrace. you can tell by the way he’s breathing and the quiet sniffles that he’s crying on your shoulder.

-

it is the 3rd of march, a saturday at approximately 2am. you and your former best friend (who you are very much in love with) are embracing for the last time in the middle of the street, almost but not quite outside your house. your phone buzzes in your jacket pocket, repeatedly. 

“you better pick that up.” hyunjin said softly, pulling away from you, forcing a smile. it makes your heart twinge at the sight. nothing like the radiant ones you are used to, that you might never get to see up close again.

you sigh when you saw the caller id, answering anyway. “jisung, what?”

“you should be home by now y/n. are you safe? did you tell hyunjin anything? i hope he protected you from big spiders and shit.” he was slurring his words a little bit - clearly he’d had a bit more to drink since you’d left.

“i’m almost home, ji. he protected me from all the spiders.” 

“okay well, that’s good. i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“yep. stay safe.” you hang up and sigh, looking back at hyunjin. “look after him and felix for me, please.”

“i will.”

“thank you, hyunjin. you’re a wonderful person.” you begin to walk down the street, looking back when you reach your front door. you glance back, and see his dark figure, slowly walking down the street. you slip in your house quietly, and manage to hold your tears in until you reach your room. you sit on your bed, in his sweater, crying into the sweater paws. eventually, sleep takes over your body, your face sticky with tears.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #hwang hyunjin #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin #skz hyunjin #skz #stray kids crack

[rivalsforlife]

one more ahaha but the cherry blossom scene at the end of catch up game ch 3 because i'm still thinking nonstop about it all the time 👀👉👈

ABSOLUTELY I CAN also for anyone reading this go look at Mika’s art which inspired this scene. It’s the tumblr version so you can reblog it too, which you should do, even if you don’t read my long rambling,

okay once again rambling below...

Traditionally, Larry Butz arrived at any social gathering anywhere from half an hour to three hours later than the time he was told, so all things considered, he was actually early. Phoenix wasted no time informing him of the latest betrayal among their small elementary school friend group.

this is a direct callout to one of my friends from high school, where we started seriously considering telling her that any social event we were planning started an hour earlier than it actually did so that she’d make it there on time. We never did in case this turned out to be the time she actually made it on time, but still.

“Larry, remember that one time we were trying to make that gigantic hopscotch game, and we ran out of chalk?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Edgeworth, who sighed. “It turns out, Edgeworth hid it all along!”

Larry blinked, then shrugged. “Oh yeah, right, that. Well, I kind of had an idea…”

“Wh — You hid this from me too?! D-Death! The death penalty for the both of you!”

“Why does this all sound so familiar,” Edgeworth commented under his breath.

I think this part is mostly there so Larry actually does something because I couldn’t find any real way to fit him into this fic...? Anyways the dialogue there with Phoenix threatening the death penalty on Miles and Larry is pretty much directly lifted from the end of Turnabout Goodbyes, which is why Miles comments on it sounding familiar. 

They continued on in that vein for some time, dredging up old elementary school memories. Phoenix proclaimed to be the only innocent member of that group, before Edgeworth brought up a set of very nice gel pens Phoenix reportedly stole from him. Phoenix and Edgeworth got caught up in their argument, and barely even noticed when Larry wandered away, joining Maggey and Gumshoe at the fishing pond while Franziska critiqued them.

This sort of familiar banter was normal. As Edgeworth teased in that same way he had ever since Phoenix first faced him in court, he had to wonder if he’d just imagined the way Edgeworth had been looking at him during the party. Maybe everything was fine, after all.

Not pictured: Phoenix and Miles leaning in closer to each other as they argue. too close. Larry tries to comment but neither of them hear him. Eventually he just walks away because he’s sick of third-wheeling with these two. It’s my firm belief that if there weren’t the court benches in the way that they need to slam, these two would slowly walk closer and closer to each other as they argue because they. uh. want to “intimidate” each other. that’s why they’re nose to nose like that. the whole courtroom is suddenly very uncomfortable.

Haha anyways also I think these two would pick the dumbest things to argue about all the time? Never seriously arguing, the just like bickering because they don’t know how to hold conversations about their feelings.

“You still haven’t explained exactly what happened to my gel pen set,” Edgeworth accused, as they circled around the argument for the third time.

Phoenix threw his hands up in the air. “I just forgot to return it! I didn’t know you were so bothered by it. You should have brought it up!”

“Back then? You were so sensitive. If I brought up that you might have upset me in the least, you would have burst into tears.”

“I wasn’t that sensitive.”

Edgeworth sighed. “Wright, you cried when I got a question wrong on a spelling test, because you thought I would be sad about it.”

“And you were!” Phoenix retorted. “You cried for like an hour!”

“Because when you started crying, I thought it was something I had to be ashamed of!”

More bickering, pretty much! Also I do think Phoenix cried A Lot and was super sensitive up until the whole Dahlia trial which traumatized him pretty badly... 

Anyways the REAL story behind this incident which I am making up just now is probably that Miles was on the verge of crying because of Getting Something Wrong -- which I totally get, I absolutely almost cried over spelling tests as a baby -- and Phoenix picked up on this and realized his best friend was sad and started crying, which made Miles start to fully cry, and it just became a mess.

Meanwhile Larry with the 3/10 on his spelling test was just like “I don’t get what you guys are so upset about a 9/10 is great” which just makes them cry even more.

(Then Gregory probably found out about this incident and sat Miles down and gave him a speech about “everyone makes mistakes and it’s okay to not be perfect all the time, this is a learning opportunity and it shows you what you need to work on!”

:)

That sentiment didn’t last very long.)

Wow I’m getting off topic, moving on --

Phoenix crossed his arms. “I remember this whole thing very differently than you do. You cried first.”

“I never cried in fourth grade.”

Phoenix leaned in and whispered into his ear, “Origami.”

“Do not bring that up!” Edgeworth hissed as Phoenix reared back, laughing.

I don’t know if you need to lean in super close and whisper that in his ear though Phoenix, that might be a bit unnecessary. Miles got lucky here in that his Eternal Shame over not being able to fold an origami crane in fourth grade overrode whatever reaction he undoubtedly would have had about Phoenix’s face being very close to his face.

Anyways this banter is here in the fic mostly because I really wanted to show them being all comfortable and happy with each other. That was a major thing I wanted to push as much as possible in these earlier chapters, that they do care about each other a lot even before we enter the more outright romantic territory.

“Regardless, I am certain you took my gel pen set, so don’t try to blame faulty memory on that one. I bet you carelessly used them all up, didn’t you?”

“Hardly! I wouldn’t even touch it after you left. It reminded me of you.”

Some of the fight left Edgeworth’s stance. “Really?”

“Well… yeah.” He wasn’t sure why the admission suddenly felt like a confession of an entirely different sort.

aw man Phoenix you brought feelings into your banter NOW what are you going to do.

I’m preeetty sure I have books that I lent to my friends in fourth grade that they never gave back so it’s of course not an inherently romantic thing, they probably just forgot it was mine and obviously aren’t going to bring it back now ten years later, but for Phoenix in this case it was probably more like “I borrowed these gel pens from Miles and then keep forgetting to give them back but was going to after winter break, and then he left, so I need to hold onto them until he comes back”. Miles was taken from his life so suddenly it probably had a huge effect on him, especially since he had few friends at the time and Miles made such a big impact on him.

The two of them sat underneath the tree in a sudden, serene quiet. They’d both discarded their suit jackets at some point, down to their dress shirts and waistcoats. Phoenix pretended not to notice the way Edgeworth’s eyes darted across the line of his shoulders and lingered longer than they should have.

I don’t ever really pay much attention to what people are wearing or what they look like at any particular time when I’m writing, but in this case I took extra care to make sure they were in the same outfits as in the art that inspired this!

Maybe I’ll ramble a bit more about that! Pretty much the “theme” of narumitsu week this year was “cherry blossoms”, so I wanted to find some way to incorporate them into this fic somewhere somehow. I decided to have that as a focus on Free Day because I enjoy having structure and wasn’t sure what to have for the day.

Some of this scene, mainly the picnic, is inspired by that one official art here. The first iteration of this chapter had everyone in it (with the obvious exceptions of Diego and Mia) but then I took out Maya and Pearl for reasons I explained when I was talking about the scene in chapter 6 where I decided to cut a lot of Maya’s scenes out of this fic... even though I love her a lot.

And of course when I thought about cherry blossoms and narumitsu I thought about Mika’s art, yes I am linking it again, which I believe she posted about a month or so before I started planning and I was Thinking About It Constantly. It’s gorgeous and since there was the perfect opportunity to use it here I just couldn’t resist and here we are.

Back to the paragraph: Miles attempted to subtly check Phoenix out. It was not subtle.

“Do you still have those gel pens?” Edgeworth asked, softer. “I think you owe me them, after everything.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Phoenix, but it was difficult to have a heated argument right now, for some unknown reason. “If I still have them, they’re in a box somewhere. Plus, they ought to have dried up by now.”

“I doubt it.” A faint smile was beginning to crawl on Edgeworth’s face. “Those gel pens were state of the art.”

“Sure they were,” Phoenix dismissed. “And, what, you’re going to use them? Sign your fancy prosecutor documents in bright pink?”

“What makes you think I don’t do that already?”

“You wouldn’t — oh, wait, of course you’d have customized ink in the same colour as your entire wardrobe, who am I even talking to…”

“Mhm.” Edgeworth brushed his bangs from his eyes, a motion that Phoenix’s brain decided to fixate on for some reason. “But really, you went to all the trouble of keeping the set, and you never used any of them?”

(Miles voice) “oh so you kept something as trivial as that for so long because they reminded you of me? Tell me more. Why do you want a reminder of me. What exactly do you think of me, Wright,”

hm pretty much as soon as Phoenix brought Feelings into this conversation the atmosphere kind of changed and you can now imagine Miles staring with the most adoring expression at Phoenix while Phoenix is ignoring this with such intensity that it doesn’t even show up in his narration. But he also watches the way Miles brushes his bangs from his eyes, so he’s not much better.

And thinking about it now this scene really went on for too long about gel pens hahaha... 

“Objection!” Phoenix declared. “I used the blue one to write you letters at first.”

“Ah, of course you did. I never got any of those… How many did you send?”

“I don’t even want to know…”

Edgeworth hummed and looked off into the distance, where Gumshoe was demonstrating how to cast a line. “Your level of dedication is something else,” he said, as if to himself.

“Well, yeah. You were my only non-Larry friend. You were…” Phoenix swallowed. “You were important to me, you know? You saved me.”

“You keep bringing that up. You’ve more than returned the favor, you know that, don’t you?”

“I’m inclined to disagree.”

I don’t have a consistent headcanon about whether Miles got or read the letters, in this fic presumably von Karma intercepted them and got rid of them... and then presumably Miles ignored any that were sent to him as an adult.

Also these two are going to have ridiculous arguments about who saved who until they’re on their deathbeds, I’m sure.

Edgeworth turned back towards him as if to retort, but stopped halfway, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at Phoenix.

“... Something on my face?” Phoenix asked, trying to quell the feeling of some sort of anxiety that bubbled up when Edgeworth stared at him like that.

insert mikacherryblossomart.png

Miles turns away for one second and then suddenly oh no he’s even more gorgeous now

Edgeworth was silent for some time. Then, very softly, he said, “You have cherry blossom petals in your hair.”

“What? Do I?” He reached a hand up to brush them out, but Edgeworth stopped him by grabbing his wrist, freezing Phoenix.

“With your hair, you’ll never get them out like that.” With his spare hand, Edgeworth began to pick each individual petal from his hair. “You look so — silly, Wright.”

Partially a callback to the beginning of chapter 3, when they were kids:

“Y-Your hair,” Miles managed to say through stifled laughter. “One of the flowers fell into it.”

Phoenix hands shot up into his hair. “Really?”

“You look so silly, Phoenix.” When Phoenix failed to find the flower, Miles reached out. “Here, let me.” 

 Phoenix remained still as Miles reached up to the top of his head and picked the flower out of his hair. “Your hair’s really soft,” Miles said quietly, before handing it over to Phoenix. “Here you go.”

because Miles apparently remembered that it was difficult for Phoenix to get the petals from his hair the first time, and also, wanted an excuse to touch Phoenix’s hair again.

But also the dialogue and interactions are ONCE AGAIN INSPIRED BY MIKA based on this reply to my reply to the art on twitter. look at that you can go and retweet the art on twitter too!

Overall this gives us an accurate Thoughts to Speech translator for Miles:

Miles: You have cherry blossom petals in your hair and it is going to kill me.

Phoenix: What? Do I?

Miles: No, wait, don’t brush them out, I want to touch your hair because it is soft and this is the perfect excuse. You look so captivating.

if Miles had said that out loud though it would probably have killed both of them.

Phoenix let out an awkward, low laugh, starting somewhere deep within his chest. “R-Really.”

“Mhm.”

Edgeworth’s eyes locked with Phoenix’s, and time seemed to freeze. There was a sudden thrum of tension in the air, as if Phoenix were in a play and he’d suddenly forgotten his lines, forgotten he was supposed to be in a play at all.

(chanting) “kiss kiss kiSS KISS KISS --”

But before either of them could break the sudden spell over them, a fishing hook whirred through the air, and —

“Ack, I — I think I got it stuck!”

but of course that needs to be interrupted at the worst possible time because this is fanfiction and this is how things work!

“In the tree?! How did you even manage to get it that far?”

“Don’t worry about it, Maggey, I can climb up the tree and get it unstuck, just hang on —”

“No, no, if I just give it a big yank—”

“Maggey—!”

I broke the first rule of writing dialogue because I can’t really remember who’s supposed to be saying what. I think that Maya had a few lines here and then I didn’t change them since there were no dialogue tags...

Pretty much -- Maggey with her eternal luck tried to fish but released the line too early as she was swinging back so the line went back and got caught in the tree branches directly above Phoenix and Miles.

I think the dialogue progression goes Maggey -> Originally Maya but now either Larry or Franziska -> Gumshoe -> Maggey -> everyone going MAGGEY NO!!!

I remember going fishing with my grandpa once a long time ago and either I or my brother did get the fishing line stuck in a tree. would not recommend.

The branch above Phoenix and Edgeworth jostled, and pink petals burst all around them, fluttering down and catching in their hair and on their clothes. One petal even fell behind Edgeworth’s glasses.

They stared at each other for a moment, stunned, Edgeworth’s hand still loosely wrapped around Phoenix’s wrist, as Maggey shouted apologies from the distance.

There are no cherry blossom trees where I live so I have no idea if we’re even in the right season for this or if cherry blossom trees even behave this way - but I’m basing it off of... you know when it’s that point in fall where if you shake a tree branch leaves will just scatter everywhere? That. 

Also RIP to the other four who were just having a grand old time fishing and then turn around seeing these two sitting really close to each other almost holding hands about two seconds away from a kiss... which they’d just interrupted...

And then — the most incredible thing happened, and Edgeworth began to laugh.

Phoenix could have catalogued all the laughs he heard from Edgeworth: the usual, short laughs often mistaken for a scoff by those who didn’t know him as well as Phoenix did; the triumphant, smug, courtroom laughs when he thought he had Phoenix cornered; to the quiet, restrained ones in private that were more of a hum than anything else. This laugh was new.

This was a full-on fit of laughter bubbling deep in his chest and spilling from his mouth, which Edgeworth quickly covered with his free hand, with the additional bonus of covering his reddening face. It wasn’t something hidden or faked or triumphant, it was genuine, and open, and Phoenix could swear it was one of the most beautiful sounds he ever heard.

Miles here is going through an emotional rollercoaster having been two seconds away from finally kissing the love of his life only to be interrupted at the worst possible time, which is just so on brand for the two of them that he can’t help but start laughing hysterically. Plus Phoenix probably looks absolutely shocked suddenly covered in petals, which doesn’t help.

Then the next two paragraphs are brought on by Phoenix Pining and also me wanting Miles Edgeworth to laugh more... 

From my notes for this scene:

They stare at each other for a moment and laugh, and Miles’ laugh just utterly captivates Phoenix and makes him fall so completely in love immediately and oh no he is screwed he is utterly screwed.

So pretty much I had to encapsulate the “falling so completely in love immediately” part which I decided to do by focusing on Miles laughing. I wanted to draw a lot of attention to that which is why there are so many paragraphs dedicated to Miles laughing and Phoenix thinking about Miles laughing.

Trucy’s laughter always made the world feel a little brighter, and made Phoenix feel stronger. Edgeworth’s laugh did the opposite; it dislodged something inside of him, it weakened him, it made the whole world go soft and fuzzy around him. Instead of illuminating all the good in the world, it turned Phoenix’s world into one person.

More focus on Miles’ laughter but also... kind of drawing attention to Phoenix’s reaction to this being different from his reaction to other people he cares about laughing? Because feeling warm and happy when seeing someone you care about non-romantically laugh is normal, but then I wanted to make it clear that this is a different sort of feeling for Phoenix. 

Also Phoenix has to realize this is a different sort of feeling for him because otherwise he could brush it off like he’s probably dismissed all of his romantic feelings throughout the years as “oh I’m just glad my friend is happy, and I rarely ever hear Edgeworth laugh so him being relaxed enough to laugh like that makes me feel happy too,” but it’s not what he’d expect if he just sees Miles as a friend. And it’s described as weakening in the paragraph because right now the subject of his romantic feelings for Miles isn’t something that Phoenix can fully or easily accept right now (as chapter 5 would indicate).

Edgeworth’s fit of laughter subsided, and he shifted his hand so he could look at Phoenix again, the hints of a shy grin peeking out between his fingers, his hair and his shirt and his face adorned with a sweet, gentle pink. It was like looking at an entirely different person — or, no, the same person, but with all armor off, all guards lowered.

Miles is very embarrassed right now but kind of... in a good way...? Like again, almost kissed the love of his life then rudely interrupted at the last possible moment, plus Phoenix’s whole reaction to the thing gave Miles the impression that Phoenix wanted to kiss him as well, so he’s feeling a little giddy. Plus he was just laughing a lot when he normally doesn’t do that. Overall he’s not used to expressing his emotions so he’s embarrassed and a little shy about it...

The part about Miles’ “hair and shirt and face adorned with a sweet, gentle pink” refers to both the cherry blossom petals (in his hair and clinging to his shirt and a bit on his face) and also him blushing quite a bit.

It all feels a little out of character honestly haha because Miles isn’t really the type to be blushing hardcore like this and be a little shy, buuut in this case I let myself get away with it because he’s dealing with romantic feelings he hasn’t ever dealt with at this level before, and it’s also out of character just enough to really strike Phoenix in the heart. You can just imagine him staring at Miles with the most lovestruck expression on his face because he hasn’t seen this side of Miles before and he loves it.

Phoenix’s heart stuttered in his chest, and may have stopped entirely.

He was screwed.

He was completely and utterly screwed.

And even Phoenix can’t deny that he’s super in love at this point. 

I think I wrote this part, changed the words “screwed” to “doomed” right before posting, and then switched it back again for no particular reason. The Vibe just felt a little off but oh well.

Then the next chapter skips over the rest of this picnic but honestly Phoenix’s brain skipped over the rest of this picnic as well. Imagine the two of them just kind of standing around in a lovestruck daze for a while. I think Franziska had to physically drag Miles out of there. no one knows how Phoenix got home, not even Phoenix and least of all me!

But thank you Mika for requesting this!! And for drawing such incredible art for me to base the chapter around haha!!!

#dvd commentary meme #the catch-up game #asks