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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

hiii could you do one of tom asking your dad to marry you?? thankuuuuu

okay so I don't believe in boys having to ask the dads, because we are strong independent QUEENS and no man owns me ever, but I hope this is still okay <33

not proof read and written super quick so sorry!

summary: Tom's terrified to ask your dad a very particular question question

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“Mr Y/l/n” Tom called your dads attention from the dishwasher he was loading up. The holidays spent at your parents meant a lot of good things- but mainly food. So much so the dishwasher was almost continually on, just so you didn’t run out of crockery.

“Its Y/d/n Tom, we’ve been through this.” He was joking but with your Dad - Tom could never really tell. At heart your dad was an absolute softie, except no one really saw that except your mum and you. Always a daddies girl, Tom knew how much your dad had meant to you. He had guessed before he’d met you parents , that he would be protective.

And that he was, never frontally rude or cruel. It was more subtle - though to Tom it was very damn clear, he had his doubts. As a people pleaser, Tom didn’t like the fact he didn’t like him. Time and time again, he’d tried to prove just how much you meant to him and yet it seemed to fall on deaf ears. So three years down the line, it was safe to say he was bloody terrified. Heart-in-mouth sort of event. Tom did a lot of ‘terrifying things’: talking to massive studio heads; going on stage with thousands of people screaming; jumping out a plane even.

But no, a single conversation with your dad had his adrenaline going like nobodies business. Asking to marry you.

“You going to just stand their gawking? I hope the moviestar doesn’t make my Y/n do all the housework?”

“No sir I-of course I don’t” Stammering his way through with wide eyes, Tom practically leapt across the kitchen to the opposite side of the dishwasher to your dad. Secretly your Dad was chuckling away to himself, taking absolute delight in how terrified the ‘movie star’ was of him, but managed to keep a steely outershell. In silence, the two uunloaded the dishwasher, Tom desperately racking his brains for conversation starters.

This is what he did for a living, learnt the speech he’d spent hours preparing, then retell it. Why then, was Tom having such an issue with the script he’d arguable practiced the most? Deciding he needed a buffer, Tom went to the safe space of small talk.

“So how was the pub? Y/n said you were meeting some old friends?”

“Watched the match, bloody awful game and Wilks was crap, I don’t know why he even started.” Now this football talk was something Tom felt safe in. He had learnt as much as he could about your dads team - just so there was some mutual conversation.

“Yeh tell me about it, I caught the last half. Though the ref made so bad decisions too, that penalty never really was VAR or not.”

“Thats the most respectable thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

The next couple of minutes were spent with both men raving fanatically, letting all their anger out on the pretty subpar game this afternoon. In fact, Tom swore your dad actually laughed along with him at one point. Admittedly he’d caught himself almost immediately- but for two seconds, he had cracked it.

With the last mug placed in the cabinet, Tom was quite frankly shocked at what your dad said next. He had presumed that since it was late and everyone else was in bed, Y/d/n wouldn’t want quality time with his daughters boyfriend.

“You fancy a nightcap son?”

He’d never called Tom that either. Frankly, you dad preferred the nickname ‘moviestar’ because he knew it infuriated Tom. Made the tips of his ears flush bright red, that was Toms tell - one that your dad had noticed too early on.

Jerkily Tom nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he followed the elder man to the sitting room - where he kept the scotch glasses and bottle. No sooner had the drinks been poured, that Tom practically exploded with his thoughts.

“Mr Y/l/n-sorry I mean Y/d/n I-I um I needed to ask you something.” All he got was a long sigh and a nod, encouraging him to continue. “I-uhm….”Tom scoffed, clearing his throat because all of a sudden it felt like he hadnt had a drink in 10 hours, mouth completely dry.

“Well first off-and all respect. I know I don’t have to ask you. Y/n is the most independent and strong woman and we aren’t living in the 1950s. But, well but she loves you alot.” Tom stressed that last point especially, looking up to your dads poker face. It put him off for moment.

It was just how grumpy he looked, it was bloody terrifying. Taking a big gulp of the malty liquid, Tom steeled himself once again. “ And she respects you, your opinion always matters and I’d never come between that. And Y/n, she likes her traditions right? Like the stupid hat game you all play at Christmas dinner which makes no sense to me? Or the puzzle that you don’t start till everyone’s pretty drunk and tired at 3 o’clock in the morning on christmas? So that is… uhm thats why I’m asking you.”

Again all Tom was met with was a stern gaze, once again taking another generous sip of the scotch.

“Look I know you have your doubts about me- “ That got a response, a snort of agreement from your dad as if saying ‘you think’.

“But-but I really love your daughter. She’s my whole world and I can’t imagine being without her. And I know my lifestyle probably doesn’t fit with how you imagined your daughter to have. I mean-I’m not always at home and I’m away for months but- but…. look.” Tom sighed, shifting awkwardly on the sofa to directly face your dads armchair. “When I’m homesick and tired and grouchy from filming and I get back to the hotel I facetime Y/n. Everyday. And just seeing her smile, you-you know, the really soft small one that makes her dimples pop out? One look at that smile and everythings fine. Because all I’m thinking about is seeing that smile for the rest of my life. When she finds out she’s pregnant with our kid, when we’re taking them to college. I mean even when we’re 80 and probably sick of each other- she’ll still have that little smile that puts me into this sort of stupor. I just- I love her. And I’d do anything for her, I always will, I promise you that. So-so” With a shaky breath, Tom delivered his hitline.

“This is me just letting you know that I’m going to ask her to marry me and- I really hope she says yes.”

Tom was almost out of breath, and the breath he did have was shaky, looking up desperately at the older man across from him. He watched with wide eyes as your Dad placed his glass back on the drinks table with a clink, before leaning forward and standing up from the chair. He groaned slitghtly at the movement (his knees werent what they used to be) and took the two steps forward to be stood right infront of Tom’s seat. In that moment, Tom honestly thought he was getting a punch to the jaw at the very least. Afterall, he had just pretty much demanded that he were to propose to you.

As he braced for impact, tensing all his muscles, instead what he felt was a light pat to his right shoulder. Tom trailed his eyes up your dads figure to see what he thought was a gentle smile on his face too. Though he hadn’t ever seen your Dad smile at him before, so couldn’t say for certainty.

“You’re a good kid Tom, and you make Y/n very happy. Just pull yourself together when you ask her alright son? Didn’t think moviestars got stage fright.” And with that, your dad turned his back, heading toward the doorway that lead to the stairs to the bedrooms. Stunned, it took a moment or two before Tom processed - long enough that he had to leap up and call your dads name to get him to halt in the hallway.

“So is that a yes? You’re giving me permssion?”

“Oh Tom….” Your dad sighed in the lowlight of the hallway, in a more muted voice - now they were closer to the bedrooms where both you and your mum were sleeping peacefully. “ You already said, Y/n is strong and fiercely independent. I don’t control her, heck I don’t think she’s ever listened to me and never will. But…. for the record, I hope she says yes too and… I know she will.”

Scoffing in excitement, Tom combed a hand through his scalp, feeling such a wave of relief it was almost indescribable as your dad turned and trudged up the stairs. Once he heard the door of your parents bedroom close, he couldn’t help himself. He ran back into the kitchen, where he preceded to do an excited jumpy dance thing.

Because it meant a lot. To have your dads approval, to have your dads support. That meant the world. Not only for the sake of proposing but also, everything Tom said was true. He wanted to build a family with you - which meant that man was going to be the grandparents to your kids one day. That man had helped to craft you into the person you were today - his ‘person’. His perfect angelic, sweet woman.

Whenever he felt this excited, this happy, this elated - theres only one person he wants to be with. So, after turning all the lights off and checking the doors were locked (with a very obvious spring in his step) he then hopped up the stairs. Tiptoeing around, he got ready for bed in no time, before getting to the highlight of each evening.

Delicately he crawled into bed, sliding under the covers, so as to not disturb you. Naturally though, feeling the bed dip made you turnover- hooking your legs round his and resting your head on his chest. Tom chuckled quietly at your cuteness, stroking your cheek lightly with his thumb. It was enough to rouse you awake, enough to make you acutely aware of the thundering sound from his chest. With tired eyes, you propped your chin on his breastbone looking up at him with concern.

“You alright T? Hearts really racing.” He only replied with this loopy lovesick grin, his right hand coming to cup your cheek.

“Go back to sleep darling, I’m okay.” He did look okay, but he was almost too smiley and even with a foggy sleepy brain, you were still suspicious.

“Whats going on, you’re being weird?”

“Nothing…. your dad and me just had a chat… He called me son.” That shocked you too - clearly the conversation you’d had with him about being nicer to Tom had rubbed off.

“He did?”

“He did…. you are beautiful you know?” Now he was definitely being weird. You furrowed your eyebrows, as if trying to read his mind because something odd was going on in there.

“Now you’re just being creepy. What’s up?”

Tom just leant forward to kiss your forehead, then pulled you down onto his chest.

“I just love your family and I love you, you know that?”

“Are you trying to get into my pants? Because my parents are literally in the next room.”

“Oh shut up and kiss me.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland angst

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shotosprincess · 3 years

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what if... — shoto todoroki

“ what if we kissed then? just to prove that we don’t have feelings for each other. “

summary: ever since you and todoroki started working together as pro heroes, your friends simply wouldn’t let up on teasing you two, suspecting that there was something between you—something that extended past the bounds of business.

notes: fluff ,, todoroki being flustered ( aaaa he’s so cute bye ) the bakusquad teasing and egging ya’ll on ( their dialogue is color coded so it’s easier to read ! ) ,, denki being a little bit of a busybody <3

“ ooooh look who it is! the power coupleeee! “ the sing-song tone of denki’s teasing rung through the hall as he spotted you and todoroki entering the building from a long day of pro hero work.

grey streaks of dust and ash littered your bodies, streaks of sweat and diluted stripes of dried crimson staining multiple sides on both your faces. his hair was tattered and slightly singed from the discord of an especially-messy battle, yours was tangled in a hopeless mess. a heavy sigh leaves you. that would be a pain to brush through later.

your numbed fingers, body exhausted and worn out, run through your hair in a wordless frustration. shoto tenses up noticeably at denki’s playful comment. “ denki. we’re not a couple. “

his lips raise into a cheeky, if not mildly-irritating smirk as he leans further into the velvet couch, draping his arms round the back. “ oh yeah? take your arm off their shoulder then, shoto. “

your partner’s face lights up with a rose so brilliant, it almost even matched with the rubied strands of his hair. his lips tightly purse together, sliding his arm, which was, in fact, casually resting on your shoulder, off with a hurried swoop.

“ shut it, kaminari. “ he huffs in a low, almost even threatening tone as he walks past the energetic blonde at an increased pace. you frown. he seemed so worked up over it, and for what? it’s not as if this was the first time someone had poked at you for being a “ couple “—which you were not, but you were never the one to readily disprove their remarks, though delivered in a joking manner. it’s not as if you felt anything of the sort for him...right?

so then why was it so hard to admit that you weren’t anything more than what you were on the field? it was the truth, after all.

“ jeez, what’s with him? i was just kidding. “ sticking a lollipop into his mouth, he turns to lay down fully on the couch, stretching his back out with such leisure.

your eyes followed him as he disappeared past a corner, shaking your head in confusion. “ no clue. “

it was just one of the countless circumstances in which people had poked at the two of you for your not-so-platonic habits with one another, habits which, admittedly, hinted at something...more than friendship. more than a partnership. this was nothing new.

but of course, you pushed it all away, allowing the rumours and silly hashtags and fanmade edits and youtube compilations to completely ricochet off of you. however, the same couldn’t exactly be said for todoroki. shame.

you didn’t quite know why, but he always got so unexplainably tense about it whenever someone brought the topic up. he’d curl up his fists so aggressively it’d leave crescent marks the next day, rearrange his face into a scowl—it was clear that he hated it, joke or not. honestly, you didn’t have the guts to attempt to make them stop, for you knew that if you had, you just knew that the public would somehow find a way to turn it into “ proof “ that you were dating, all because he got so riled up and flustered. which was silly, really, since it was a perfectly normal human reaction to something like this.

though you can’t help but wonder if, perhaps, he did feel that way about you, and maybe that was the reason he—

no, no, what were you thinking? he couldn’t possibly...right? you were just partners. nothing more, nothing less.

but if he did think of you like that, would you want something more?

“ oh come on, just admit it! if not to the public, then to us at least. aren’t we friends? “

“ yeah, icy hot. i mean, seriously, have more guts— “

“ ...how many fucking times do i have to tell you, bakugou...we’re not a couple. denki, stop playing around. you’re egging him on. “ shoto’s harsh tone cuts sharply through the banter between denki and the overly-intense ashen blonde, bringing it to an abrupt end. it didn’t exactly last very long, though.

“ yeah, yeah. that’s what i said about that dumbass deku, and look where we are now. “ he rasps, a knowing smirk playing on his face as he pulls his now-blushing boyfriend close.

“ not everything is about love, bakugou. “ he smirks.

“ yeah, who knew you’d be the one to turn out to be such a romantic? “ denki laughs, earning a solid punch to his arm.

“ owww! that actually hurt. “ his lips jut out in a pout, rubbing over the blooming patch of light purple.

“ oh, shut up, idiot! “

“ you know what? fine. y/n? “

you pause, perfectly still and unmoving as the coldness of his eyes burned his unknown intent into you.

“ y-yeah? “

he strides over to you, appearing only inches away within the briefest of seconds. one of his hands quickly finds a home against your cheek, tilting it to look up at him. your heart pulsates at a nearly impossible rate.

“ kiss me. “

“ what? “

“ just this once. to prove that we don’t have feelings for each other. “ he says, rolling his eyes at denki and bakugou, who were futilely trying to cover their smirks.

heat rises to your cheeks, cauterizing them with an unfamiliar flame. “ oh! uh! i—sure.“

what other choice did you have? after all, you did want to prove to everyone that there really was nothing between you and shoto. or maybe, just maybe, you were also trying to prove it to yourself?

no, no. that couldn’t be. it couldn’t.

he wastes no time. his skin, cold and smooth, fingers like porcelain streams, grasp your chin with a fast-paced elegance which sends a prominent shudder down your back. his lips hover just above yours, and the tension buzzing between you is ridiculously electric. he’s so close, your heartbeat rings in your ears and his breath shallowly fans upon your face as he peers into your eyes with his own. you allow them to fall closed.

as if on cue, his lips meet yours with a gentle, albeit fairly aggressive peck. but as soon as they do, your chest spurns with the fibres of your heartstrings, embroidering them tightly into the knots of his own tangled past. you know what he said. you know what you said—it was all to prove that you didn’t feel anything for one another.

but then why did it feel so oddly...right?

he pulls away, and your lips suddenly feel empty, deserted. the electric thrum still prickles at your lips, wanting, no—needing, more. you hate how much your body craved him, how desperately you wanted for his arms around you again. there’s too much emotion, an overwhelming influx. it is near impossible to even articulate it, at least not in a way which could ever hope to properly encapsulate the undeniable magic of the moment. you were being so damn melancholic, and that was saying something, even for you.

when his lips leave yours, you cannot help but be frozen in your simple state of bliss, utterly dazed with hazy remnants of how annoyingly addicting it was. your eyes gloss over with a sense of want, sparkling with the same glitters his icy eyes met yours with. his hand remains on your cheek, but his touch softens against yours.

your silent stare prolongs for more than just the fleeting moment, as if you were subconsciously grabbing at it with invisible arms, reaching desperately to bring each other back. that was when it hit you; the blinding realization that you did, in fact, want this. want him. and yet, you couldn’t help but hesitate. what about him? did he want this? no, no, he couldn’t possibly. after all, this whole kiss situation was only because he wanted to prove that explosive idiot wrong, that there was nothing between you two but teamwork and good quirk compatibility.

your heart stings at the minor epiphany, the thoughts piercing at your head in an endless swirl of emotions. second-guessing yourself, wondering why you even cared whether or not he thought of you that way. or at least, how he didn’t think of you that way. the tiniest shine of a tear begins to coat your lashes when—

his lips crash against yours for a second time, his hand now trailing towards your scalp, weaving through the fibres as his lips danced upon yours. your guard, your hesitation fully melting away in his arms.

but alas, you made the mistake of allowing yourself to forget that people were watching too.

“ ha! i knew it! i fucking knew it! “ kaminari’s playful voice rings like the most annoying song ( in this moment, i mean come on, you loved the guy, but right now? not exactly helping your stance of “ we don’t see each other like that “ ) as his head peaks out from the halls.

instantly you break away, pulling from each other as your hand flies to clamp over your mouth, eyes bulging wide at what you had just done. you had just kissed shoto. in front of, well, practically everyone! since when did mina and kirishima even get here?!

“ shit. “ shoto mutters deeply, thrashing his hands into his two-toned hair in frustration.

“ shoto, i—i’m so sorry, i didn’t know they would— “

“ no, no. don’t apologize. it’s my fault. i...i shouldn’t have gone for a second ki— “

“ honestly, i think i would’ve been more mad at you if you haven’t. “

“ WHAT?! “ your little audience shrieked. your palms clasped right over your mouth after the admission, face burning with embarrassment. the words left you before you could even think them through. had you really just said that? in front of everyone? how carefree can you be?

you stare into the ground, focusing on literally anything but him.

“ hey. look at me. “

you refused.

“ y/n. “ his hand goes up to your chin, making you look up at him. the pout on your face is so plainly obvious, it makes his heart twitch in a slight pain. you could almost swear you heard mina squeal faintly at the boldness of his action, considering the predicament you two were currently stuck in.

“ what? “

“ i...i think i would’ve regretted it more if i hadn’t kissed you again. “

“ you—what? “

“ i...i didn’t want to pull away. “

“ holy shit. “

“ shut up bakugou! “

“ i wanted...i wanted it to last a little longer. “

“ jeez, and i thought i was bad at confessing my feelings. pft. this is just embarrassing to watch. “

“ same here. i mean you did ask midoriya out by yelling ‘ i love you, dumbass! ‘ from outside his dorm window. “

“ hey, idiot! we don’t talk about that! “

“ shhhh both of you! shut up! we are witnessing an important romantic moment here! “

“ i...seriously? “

“ seriously. and i—i don’t know what the hell this feeling....is. but i....i just— “

“ it’s okay. “ you shoot him a reassuring smile, the same kind you always did in the midst of battle, that comforting smile that let him know you had his back. you communicated with your eyes, though usually they were bloodshot with adrenaline and smudged with ash, there truly was no need for words. not with him.

“ y/n...i— “

“ awwwww aren’t they the cutest? now kiss again! “

“ mina. “ he shoots her a lightly cold stare.

“oh come on! let us have our fun, yeah, icy hot? “ bakugou slings his arm over kaminari’s shoulder, whose grin matches that of his blonde-haired counterpart.

“ i thought i told you not to call me— “

“ shoto. “

he immediately turns to you, slipping into serenity at the sound of your voice.

“ ah shit, here they go again. we get it, you’re a cute couple! “

“ mina, i told you. we’re not a co- “ his eyes snap to yours, lips parting in a hesitant pause.

“ not a what, icy hot? “ the smirk exuding of utter smugness upon bakugou’s face only spreads all the wider.

he allows his hands to fall, taking yours within his. there is a brief, yet definite moment of silence before he speaks again. “ i mean... “

your gaze is focused on the way his hands fully envelope yours, and the unexplainable, tingly feeling you’re getting from it all. despite that, you could still very well see mina and kaminari excitedly waving and bouncing in all sorts of directions, as if they were...cheering you on? it was almost as if they were more fired up about all this than you were.

keyword; almost.

“ shoto, i— “

and suddenly his composure and poise breaks, and all that’s left is the rare sight of shoto todoroki, stuttered in a blushing, shaky mess. “ i mean, i wouldn’t be opposed to it. not—not like i desperately want to or anything, but at the same time i—i just—fuck, why is this so har— “

you rise onto your tip toes, hands encircling his neck as you kiss him. what unknown spirit possessed you with the guts to make the first move, it was fully unbeknownst to you. but you weren’t complaining, no. not in the slightest.

“ HOLY SHIT?? “

“ my baby’s all grown up now— “

“ dumbass, they’re not your bab— “

“ they’re mine. “

“ i— “

“ that is, if you want to b— “

“ well no shit, dumbass! “ you jump into his arms, squealing as you squeeze him tight.

“ good. because...so do i. “

“ i told you! “

“ shut up idiot! “

“ hey, so now can we start a fan account for you two on instagram? i’m sure it’d totally blow up! “ mina squealed with a wink, holding up her phone, already halfway through the sign up process.

“ mina! “ everyone groaned in a laughter-filled unison.

so that was it, you supposed.

you did have feelings for each other.

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spikeface · 3 years

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what do you think scott and stiles' dynamic was like before scott got bitten? i always wished we got a flashback because i looove scott during those first 5 minutes of the first episode (and also to see him with his justin bieber hair plus stiles in a backwards cap again)

Thank you for this ask! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reply.

A preface: my thoughts are based on canon, but what we have is sketchy enough that I think there’s plenty of room for different interpretations and headcanons. A lot of my thoughts come from the single data point of “Wolf Moon,” and as Lydia says, that’s not enough for a pattern.

I accept Posey and O’Brien’s headcanon that the two of them meet as toddlers in the sandbox at the playground, and add that Scott is living with his dad while Stiles’ mother dies, which explains why Scott doesn’t know much about her form of dementia, or Stiles’ panic attacks afterwards. In my mind, the two of them were close weird-kid friends before those things happened. Once Scott comes back, however, they become joined at the hip, a mix of simpatico and abandonment issues. In “Wolf Moon,” I see a dynamic where each of them gets to be his real self, and benefits from the other being his real self.

Between his parents’ divorce and his family’s financial issues, I think Scott feels a lot of pressure—both real and self-imposed—to be responsible, to not be a burden. Largely, he manages. He has a job, and gets decent grades, and grabs the groceries, and brings his mother dinner at the hospital. He’s a good kid who doesn’t complain or make problems. Melissa says she doesn’t have a lot of practice playing tough mom. We also see Scott agonize about messing any of that up, however: losing an inhaler, doing poorly on a test, disappointing his mother. The most obvious example to me is when he’s extremely stressed about being late to work (“Pack Mentality”):

SCOTT: Sorry. Sorry.

DEATON: You're all of two minutes late.

SCOTT: I just don't want you to think I'm slacking.

DEATON: Scott, I guarantee you, you're one of the least slacking kids in this town.

Scott acts like being two minutes late, one time, will cause Dr. Deaton to lose faith in him, even though he’s been firmly established in Deaton’s mind as a reliable employee. For Scott, any misstep is an opportunity to lose everything.

His friendship with Stiles is a break from that stress. Stiles wants to do something completely irresponsible like go into the woods to look for a body on the night before tryouts. We see Scott go, and then criticize the idea (“Wolf Moon”):

SCOTT: We're seriously doing this?

STILES: You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.

SCOTT: I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow.

STILES: Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort.

SCOTT: No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line.

STILES: Hey, that's the spirit! Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.

SCOTT: Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?

STILES: Huh! I didn't even think about that.

SCOTT: And what if whoever killed the body is still out here?

STILES: Also something I didn't think about.

SCOTT: It's comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail.

Some people read this as Scott being against the whole enterprise but doing it out of love for Stiles, which the text doesn’t dispute. I see it, however, as Scott indulging in the having-your-cake-and-eating-it pleasure of doing something you want to do but know you shouldn’t, while also criticizing it, which he can do thanks to the fact that Stiles comes up with the idea and insists they do it. Scott gets to do something irresponsible and complain and be an asthmatic little sarcastic kid, all things he doesn’t have a lot of room to do in his day-to-day life. Most importantly, Scott isn’t worried about losing Stiles’ regard as a result of any of that. I can even see Stiles’—admittedly snide—line about Scott’s “pathetically unrealistic” dreams being read by Scott in this light. Stiles doesn’t give a shit if Scott makes first line or not, because their friendship isn’t dependent on Scott’s achievements or behavior.

Stiles, meanwhile, is different from Scott in that he isn’t worried that he might mess up, but rather convinced he is messed up. He seems resigned to the (false) ideas that he killed his mother, and is a burden to his father, and is generally an unlikeable problem child. I read much of his attempts to help his friends and family as him trying to make up for the “fact” that he is unloveable, rather than prove himself worthy of love. As a result, it’s incredibly meaningful to him that Scott loves him the way he is. Even Scott’s criticisms of his plan are simply proof that Scott knows exactly who Stiles is, and is still there with him.

It isn’t as visible in those first scenes of “Wolf Moon,” but I think the last piece of this dynamic is that Scott trusts Stiles to get him out of whatever trouble they get into. Stiles gets the reputation as the man with the plan, but even he says it’s more about the plan to fix things once everything goes haywire: “You know, I actually used to be the one with the plan... Well, or at least a plan B” (“The Overlooked”). In “Wolf Moon,” Stiles’ plan is to go out in the woods at night. That’s pretty much the entirety of it, and he doesn’t seem all that fussed about the lack of detail. But then, when he’s caught, he nails the lie to his father to cover for Scott. He can’t pick Scott up in his Jeep, as he’ll do later in the season when Scott is lost and alone in the woods, but he’s there the next morning to check in. He goes with Scott to look for his inhaler. He does research about what could have bitten Scott. This dynamic fits, for me, with the idea that Stiles is fatalistically resigned to the idea that he’s a bad influence, but tells himself that he can make up for it. He’s got Plan B. We don’t see enough of Scott and Stiles before the bite to confirm it, but it makes sense to me that between his quick thinking, his bravery, his car, and the fact that he’s the sheriff’s son, Stiles can get them out of trouble.

The tragedy of all of this, of course, is how the bite changes everything. Suddenly, Stiles finds that the trouble he can usually worm his way out of has gotten a lot more serious, and he has to work to find a way to be helpful in a life or death situation. Scott, meanwhile, has no more space to be a kid. His emotions now have life or death stakes, as we see when his irritation with Stiles telling him not to go to the party suddenly turns into him nearly hitting Stiles. Scott now really does have no room to make mistakes, or do something irresponsible, or be a kid. He can’t be a teen wolf. He’s got to be a werewolf.

#teen wolf meta #teen wolf headcanon #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #long post

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

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Can you be friend with your husband's ex-girlfriend ? - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Everyone always think you and Selina Kyle don’t like each others, solely for the fact that she used to "date” your husband. But as usual in life, things are much more complicated than that...A fluffy Drabble mainly about how truly strong, Bruce and reader’s love is.

Listen. My students were having quiet reading times, and I had a sudden burst of inspiration as one of them chose a French story in which a mother and a step-mother unite fronts to save their little magical kid (I love that story haha), and it suddenly inspired me. I LOVE Catwoman. Like. A lot. And in my head, her and Batmom have always been...Oh. No spoilers. The rest in this story ;). Hope you’ll like this little bonus story ! :

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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“You look beautiful mom, do you have a date with father ? I thought date nights were on Thursdays.”

You jumped a little in the air as your son’s voice resonate in the foyer. Definitely didn’t hear him, sneaky little bugger. You turn around towards him, and smile, saying :

“It is on Thursdays, my little buddy. I’m having a girls night out, tonight.”

“Girls night out ?”

“Yes. You know, Cass and I are the only girls of the family. Sometimes we need to vent to our peers. Cass usually goes to see Steph and Babs, I go out with my friends.”

You smile at him again, ruffling his hair, and he can’t help but chuckle a little bit. In recent months, Damian found that he actually loves, when the one he came to call “mom” (you), ruffled his hair. It made him feel like the little boy he was, as odd as it could sound to anyone not knowing him.

“I didn’t know you went on such nights.”

“I do, once a month. You just haven’t noticed because it’s usually on nights you’re out with your father rather early.”

“I see. If it isn’t too -he hesitates- personal, can I ask with who you are going out ? Who are your friends ?”

Your smile widens. Because just over a year back, that boy would’ve never cared about this. About who you hung out with, or about you in general.

Ah, since he came in your life, he went a long way. The mere fact he wanted to know more about you was proof enough, and you felt absolutely touched.

Even more so as you realized that he not only asked about your friends because he wanted to know you, but because he was a little worried about who you might spend time with, wether they’d put you in danger or not...So, oh so sweet.

“Well, as cliche as it sounds, I’m going out with mainly other supermoms. We like to vent about...Things -you were aware that telling your son you and your friends love to vent about them wasn’t the best answer right now haha- So, Lois, you know her of course. Jon’s mom. There’s also Dinah, Connor’s mom. You saw him a few time at the Watchtower, although he’s quite younger than you so I don’t think you interact much. I bet you already know she’s Black Canary, and married to Green Arrow, I saw you snoop in your father’s files.”

Your son’s face redden a little, but you give him a reassuring winks totally meaning : “I snooped around too”, and it makes him smile. You continue :

“And finally there’s Diana. She’s not a mom yet, but she loooooves to listen to our stories. She’s also great at changing subjects and partying, who would’ve thought right ? I guess having thousand of years of practice helps. I’m sure you know she’s Wonder Woman eh. Oh, and of course, there’s Selina.”

“Selina ?”

“Yes.”

“As in...Catwoman ?”

“Yes ?”

You can see your son wants to add something, and you’re pretty sure you know what it’s gonna be. But you let him ask naturally, leave him time to gather his thoughts and dare to ask. After all, you want to instal an atmosphere of trust, between you and your children. You want them to know they can always ask you anything. So you wait. Finally, Damian says :

“Why are you meeting with this woman ? Don’t you like, hate her ?”

"Why would I hate her ?”

You know exactly why he’s thinking that. But you want him to elaborate, to make sense of his feelings about the subject. Simply, to talk.

“Well...her and father used to...you know...”

It’s not quite as formed as you were hoping for, but you do know. And at least, he tried. There was a time he would’ve just gotten mad you purposefully pretended not to understand his meaning, and would’ve left this instant.

You smile at him once more. To be honest, so many people thought you and Selina Kyle didn’t get along.

You guess it would make sense, it’t true, she’s your husband ex after all. AND one of the only woman for whom he truly cared about. Those, were very few...

In fact, there was only three of you, in Bruce’s life, that truly made a difference. Sure, he had been infatuated before, with quite a few women. But only three, truly stood out.

Talia Al’Ghul, of course. Not his first love (that was Julie Madison, although he was much too young to really know what love even was, and compared to you, it was just mild infatuation). But someone that used to be important nonetheless. The reason your sweet Damian (yes, sweet, especially when around you) was alive.

She was important, once. When he was training under her father’s guidance, before he realized who Ras really was.

Talia was a complicated woman who unfortunately could never truly get away from her upbringing, no matter how hard she tried. She was “too far gone”, by her own words. It was clear to Bruce, that if even herself thought she was un-savable, he couldn’t do much either. He did try, though. But it just never worked.

You were certain that she left Damian in Bruce’s care, when the boy was barely ten, exactly because she didn’t want him to turn out like her. Which in itself, was a little redemption act, no ? At least, you thought so.

Didn’t mean that you thought you could change her mind about those “world domination” plans that were ingrained in her mind since she was born. Fact is, she gave Damian a chance.

You never hated Talia. You actually felt pretty sorry for her.

She could’ve had such a different life, if, all those years ago, she had been able to leave her father. Not that you would want to, it’d mean that you and Bruce would never be (even if deep down, you knew that you and him would always end up together, no matter what...it would’ve just been a little lethal for you, if Talia was more around um um).

Talia never even really tried to get “her” son back. It seemed she completely accepted to “give him” to you. She self-admittedly never really knew how to be a mother, and there was that time she had him killed because she thought it was meant to be...

Not that, anyway, you’d ever let that happen again. You made it very clear you wouldn’t. And your resolve and anger could be scary, even to Talia Al’Ghul.

Plus, the day she had Damian killed, she realized she didn’t want that...anyway long story short, she was no longer in his life. And although if one day she changed her mind and wanted to contact him again you wouldn’t oppose it, you knew Damian was yours. Everyone knew that if one day she would come back, beyond the fact you, Bruce, and his siblings would be here to protect Damian...The boy would never choose to go back to the Al Ghuls.

He changed drastically, since he came with you. He was no longer her son. And she knew it. And didn’t interfere so far (and you knew she never would).

He called YOU “mom”. He told YOU he loves you. You. Not her. he never interacted with you like he did with her anyway. And you still didn’t hate Talia. She was part of both Bruce, and Damian’s past (AUTHOR’S NOTE : a little reminder that Damian was born from a “test tube” with Bruce and Talia’s DNA (to simplify things), and had a surrogate mother to give birth to him (although sometimes he’s seen in literal “baby pods” like in Death Stranding haha). He was born A WHILE after Bruce left Talia and the League behind. He wasn’t born 9 months after. This is important infos so things fit timeline wise :)).

The second woman who had a great impact on your husband’s life, and who used to be “his”, was...Selina Kyle.

For a long time Bruce felt like she was the only one to understand him. The only one accepting him for who he was, with no compromise. The only person on this Earth that wouldn’t try to change him. And although things were often “on and off”, and complicated, it was nice, to feel like he belonged. And Selina... Selina was the only one giving him this feeling.

But...Well, he was wrong.

Because then, you, the “third” and yet most important woman in his life, appeared.

You arrived years after his love story with Talia, and quite a while after he started to realize him and Selina were maybe not meant to be. Too many differences, even as they understood each others (or at least he thought they did).

Then you barged in. A bit younger than him. Unafraid to be yourself, bold and utterly stubborn. Turning his world upside down, and making him reconsider if he ever knew what the word “love” meant before you.

But that, was another story. Anyone seeing you with him, and particularly the way he looked at you, would instantly know how crazy he was about you. How desperately in love he was.

Right now, the question wasn’t about how strong your bond was, and how he never loved anyone like he loves you.

Nope. Right now, it was all about how you didn’t hate his exes (not even Talia). How anyway, they were part of his life at some point, that was a fact you could never change.

Before you, Bruce had a past. Past.

A past. A path. A path that lead him to you. A path that taught him to not make the same mistakes he made before, and a path that showed him it was you. That it has always been you.

A past path, that couldn’t compare to his present with you.

You didn’t even feel particularly jealous of them, you knew how Bruce felt about you, and that they were just that...part of his past.

Now, sure. You would probably never even be friendly with Talia. Who she was and what she stood for made it so. The opposite of you, really.

But Selina ? Well. Selina was another story.

You smile at your son, and say :

“Do you think of Selina and I as “conventional women” ? “

His answer came without a second of hesitation, Damian didn’t even have to think to say what he thought of your question :

“Certainly not.”

“Exactly. Now. Maybe society teaches girls they should instantly hate their boyfriend’s ex, but I chose not to listen. It’s a toxic view of life, and not all exes are crazy jealous psychos as the people make it sound ? Sometimes, like in your father and Selina’s case, the relationship ends on good terms. Selina is a great woman. As soon as she knew your dad and I were actually a thing, she backed off.”

Well. That wasn’t entirely true. She backed off of Bruce. But she still LOVED driving him crazy jealous by openly flirting with you.

“And I know how your dad feels about me. I trust him, too. Trust is important, you know that now right ? -he nods- So. Why would I hate someone I have a lot in common with, and with whom I’d probably be friend anyway if you father wasn’t in the picture ?”

“I...I guess you wouldn’t ?”

“And I indeed don’t.”

Your son was visibly confused, and you couldn’t blame him really.

Because of how the World was, but also because of who raised him (Talia was...a jealous woman), you understood how he couldn’t quite understand you not feeling threaten in the least by the fact Selina was your Broosh’s ex. So you say, kissing his forehead :

“I’ll tell you a few stories, soon. And I think you’ll get it.”

“Ok, mom.”

You smiled. He hadn’t call you “mom” for very long, and you quickly noticed he used every opportunity to use the word. It melted your heart.

“Now, I have to go ! If I’m late, Diana is going to fly me out of here, and your father HATES when she does that. Goodnight baby, see you soon. Make sure to eat a proper dinner. I told Alfred but I trust you to listen. And force your dad to have one too, when I’m not here, he forgets things...even as important as literally feeding himself. Too engrossed in his project, you know. Anyway, love you. Good night !”

“Good night, mom.”

And with a last smile, you go out and leave behind a son that has a LOT of things to think about.

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

A few days later, it was Damian’s mandatory night off and he was going to bed early. Your orders. You convinced him, by promising to read him a bedtime story.

Many would think your son was too proud to even admit you still read him stories before bed, even as he was approaching the age of 12. But many would be wrong.

If there was something Damian wasn’t afraid of, it was to tell the world how much of a mamma’s boy he was. Nobody could blame him, he never really had a “real” mom. Not one like you, at least, who taught him with love and patience, and not hired assassins and blood.

“Ok Little Buddy, what will it be tonight ?”

"The story of how you became friend with Catwoman ?”

Your taken aback for a few seconds, you had totally forgotten about telling him about your “girls night out”. But then you smile, settle down next to him on his bed, and as he threw his heavy and comfortable quilt on both of you, you start your story.

The day she saved your life.

The first time you realized you and Selina could very well become friends one day, was that time she literally saved your life. Definitely a hint that she didn’t hate you, at least.

And you ? Sure, at first you were a little insecure because you knew she was Bruce’s ex and Selina was...Well she was a gorgeous woman, smart, witty, and very VERY hot.

But after seeing her a few times there and there, and seeing how she interacted with Bruce...you knew Selina Kyle was not the “home wrecker” time. That she would never try anything with him, as long as she knew you two were a thing.

Sure she was a thief, unscrupulously taking whatever she wanted from whomever she wanted...but “someone else’s man” was definitely where she drew a limit. She felt absolutely no pleasure being a mean spirited person.

And she saw how happy Bruce was with you...Which lead to that fateful night during which you two started to get closer.

Because sure, you fought off your insecurities about her being his ex, but you weren’t exactly friendly. You just...knew of each others.

The change happened not long after Bruce made it official with the media that he was no longer “Gotham’s most eligible bachelor”, and was in a serious relationship with you.

To your surprise, the people in the city took it really well. Bruce was a beloved figure, they were happy that after years of clearly love life instability, he found someone. Sure, a few women and men had their heart broken, their dreams shattered, and were totally jealous of you but...

Anyone seeing you with him just instantly knew you guys were the real deal. That it was true love, as cheesy as it sounded. It was just that obvious.

Maybe too obvious.

Clearly, soon, everyone in Gotham knew how much Bruce Wayne cared about his girlfriend. How he would do anything for her. And...Well.

This was Gotham. Do you get the picture ?

It was a time during which you hadn’t moved in with him just yet. You’d do that only a few months later, not long before you and Bruce would adopt Dick.

But for now, you still had your studio apartment in the heart of Gotham (refusing to take any handouts from Bruce, who could definitely get you a better place), and you were going back there after a few meeting with your publishers.

You were suppose to meet Bruce the next day, as tonight, he was working on some important “Batcases”. You didn’t mind too much. Sometimes, it was nice to be alone with yourself, gave you a moment of self-care and calm.

You loved Bruce of course, and loved being with him, but it was still nice to have some alone time nonetheless.

Anyway. You were walking back, feeling rather good about the bath bomb that was waiting for you back home (it was from your favorite artisanal shop, a gift from Bruce, who definitely had no qualms buying you hundreds of dollars worth of bath bombs haha...If he couldn’t help you get a better apartment, didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna spoil you otherwise).

That’s when it happened. You never even saw it coming. One second you were walking down the street, the next you had a damp towel around your mouth and nose, and everything went to black.

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

You woke up in a warehouse. By the salty smell in the air though, you guessed you were somewhere on the docks. Which didn’t tell much, there was a lot of docks, in Gotham. Perks of living on a city with a seafront view ?

There was a group of men in a corner, playing cards. In front of you, a camera. You were gagged, your arms and legs were bound, and your head hurt like hell.

“Hey, she woke up.”

A shuffling to your side. The men playing cards were moving. They came to you, one turned the camera on. The other one put on some headphones and slowly directed a mic towards you, as the last man pulled on a ski mask and settled in front of the camera.

Nothing made sense to you. Until the man in front of the camera started to talk.

“Bruce Wayne. We have your girlfriend. If you don’t bring us-”

Oh. Oh. You were kidnapped. And those men wanted a ransom. An insane amount of money. That you knew Bruce had, but still. Ah.

You had to get out of here. You had to.

You looked around you, nothing. And there were the three men. Oh. Oh but the edges of your chair were sharp. And if you slowly made a back and forth movement with your wrists, you could see it slowly cutting the ropes. And so, you got to work.

Only...

“Believe me, we won’t hesitate to hurt her. Here, a proof of “good faith”.”

Huh ? OUTCH ! The man in front of the camera had just almost knocked you out with the force of his punch in your jaw. You were wondering if he hadn’t broken it. You couldn’t quite think anymore, and could feel the tears slowly falling on their own from your eyes...

Damn, it hurt. You didn’t see it coming either, too focused on slowly cutting the ropes while making sure they didn’t notice.

“Ok, I think that’s good. Whaddaya think, Rupert ?”

“We can do another take if you want, and then edit the punch in ? I’m not sure she can handle another hit like that, she looks pretty shaken up.”

“Ah well we-”

“Oooooh booyyys !”

Your ears were ringing, everything was blurry, and your head hurt so much. But you definitely recognized that voice.

“Catwoman, you’re early.”

Huh ? What was she doing here...

“Well, I thought I’d pop in a little earlier knowing you boys would be around. I’m sort of in a hurry. I accept cash of course, as usual. I think you’ll find the array of jewelries I brought today to be...What the hell are you doing ?”

“Mm ? Oh, her ? A little side operation. She’s Bruce Wayne’s sweetheart. Rumors has it he’d burn the world for her, we thought we’d take advantage of it and expend our business.”

“That’s quite a jump from fencing stolen jewelries, to kidnapping, isn’t it ?”

The man shrugged, and turned back to you.

“Well, you don’t achieve anything if you don’t start new ventures. And there’s big money to be made here. For sure. That idiot Wayne will pay up, there’s no doubt.”

You heard the click-clacks of heels, and a shadow came into your vision.

“What did you do to her, you animals ?”

“Just a punch. And maybe we weren’t too delicate with her when we moved her to our van, and then here. But it’s fine. Nothing too bad really.”

Slowly you were regaining your vision. And the pain was retrieving. You had never been punched before. You kinda hope it would never happen again...

The way those thugs were talking about the all thing was so casual, from them talking about how they’d edit the video destined to Bruce, to how they were just saying they were expanding their operation...For a little bit, you almost forgot you were from Gotham.

Gotham.

America’s capital of crime.

Where little thugs like those ones were plenty.

Men who thought they could “make it big”.

Gotham.

A place that bred someone like your Bruce, and his nightly activities...

Selina’s voice raised again, harsh and dry :

“I give you all the things I stole in the past month, in exchange of her.”

There’s a short silence, followed by a chuckle from one of the man, clearly the leader, who answers :

“Oh please. We ain’t stupid. We know her value. And we know someone like you, wouldn’t trade anything in for her if she wasn’t valuable. You’re not exactly known to be a nice woman.”

There’s a hint of anger crossing Selina’s face, and you immediately understand where it comes from. Sure. She was a thief. A criminal. And sometimes, she’d rough up some security guards, or some fellow criminals that think they could cross her.

But she was no brute.

She would never NEVER kidnap anyone, and especially not an innocent.

She protected children, and defenseless woman in her neighborhood, and whenever she could. She wasn’t exactly a hero, like Bruce; That’s for sure. But she wasn’t a bad person. No. She wasn’t.

And those guys words ? Just infuriated her.

“Mm. Too bad for you. Don’t go out and say I didn’t give you a chance. Really, too bad. I liked doing business with you.”

“What are you-”

In an instant, Selina sprout in action, and knocked the three men out before they could even realize. That was impressive. Even gagged, you could hear yourself utter a “wow” as she rushed back to you to untie you.

She smiled as she saw you made a good way through the ropes, and were most likely be able to get out of your bounds at some point. You were glad you didn’t though, because you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do once free ?

You fall forward on the floor and she catches you. Your head is still ringing, as you look at Selina.

There is genuine concern on her face.

How odd.

"Are you okay ?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good. Cause I refuse to be the one telling Bruce the person he loves the most in this world died. Again.”

“Yes. Thank you I-I...”

“Hey, are you okay ? (Y/N) ? (Y/N) ??”

You could hear Selina call to you, and it felt like her voice was slowly fading into the distance...The adrenaline gone, the stress of it all gone, you had simply passed out.

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

“Is she alright ?!”

Bruce arrived, bursting through a window, and ran to you. Your head was in Selina’s lap (she felt bad just leaving you laying down there on the hard concrete ground), and she was casually sitting, her back against a container.

She was surrounded by the knocked out bodies of your aggressors.

“Yes. Yes she’s just sleeping. She got roughed up a little bit, but I checked. Nothing too bad. It’ll leave a few bruises. Nothing time cannot heal.”

After saving you, totally by chance, Selina called Bruce on his red phone, so he would know it’s an emergency.

It didn’t even take him more than ten minutes to drop the case he was working on, cross town, and arrive.

He kneeled next to you, and checked every part of you to make sure Selina was right. But it did appear you were just asleep. The shock was too big, probably.

“How did you know she was here ?”

“I didn’t. It was all luck. Those men were some...um...Associates of mine.”

“You have associates that kidnap women ?”

There was anger in Bruce’s voice, but Selina knew better than to think it was aimed at her. No. It was anger he felt towards those men who hurt you, and towards himself, too, as he wasn’t there to take care of you.

“No. She’s their first.”

He looks at you, with a longing and love in his eyes that he never looked at Selina with. She recognizes it instantly. He’s more in love with you than he ever been with her. Was it even really love, between them, or a strong friendship ? Sometimes, the two were difficult to dissociate.

She stares at him, because it’s quite something, to see the Batman himself so desperately in love that he dropped everything he was doing to run to you, knowing that you were safe.

It’s quite something, to see the Batman himself ready to give it all up just for one person. Something he was never willing to do before. Never willing to do with Selina...

She stares at him, and smiles. An almost sad smile, because it hurts a bit, he never looked at her like that. But a smile nonetheless, because she knows now for sure, that he found his true love.

Nobody would peg Catwoman for a romantic, but oh, oh she was a hopeless sap. Especially when it touched her dear friends.

Bruce looks at her, and mistakes that look in her eyes for something that isn’t there. She can see it instantly. He thinks she’s sad, that she’s truly hurt he found someone else. That he moved on.

She’s not. But of course, he would think so.

“Selina I-”

“Don’t Bruce. It’s ok. You and I were never meant to be together, and we knew it. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friend. I actually think we work better, as friends, don’t you ? Take care of her. She’s definitely a keeper.”

You slowly shift in Bruce’s arms, and he takes a look at you. At your wounds. His heart tightens, and he holds you with more force.

“Thank you.”

He barely whispers it, but Selina hears him. She smiles at him, happy that her friend found happiness. True happiness.

All she ever wanted for Bruce, was for him to find a way to be happy. Clearly, she wasn’t that. But you...You definitely were.

“I don't know what I would’ve done if she...”

“Hey, hey come on Bat. Don’t think about this. She’s fine. Just tired from the shock. She’ll recover, she’s strong. And you’ll be here, right ?”

“...Yes.”

He didn’t sound too convince, and Selina could feel a big urge to slap him across the face. Because she knew what he was thinking. And he’d better not do it.

“Bruce if you-”

“Thank you, Selina. I’m going to take her home, now. She needs the rest. And-And I do too.”

And on that note, he exited the warehouse, holding you tight in his arms. And oh. Oh Selina hoped to everything she held sacred (and that wasn’t a lot of things) that he wouldn’t be a stupid idiot.

The day she saved his heart.

He couldn’t stop thinking of that time you got hurt. Because of him. Because he was Bruce Wayne...What if anyone got wind that he was Batman ?

It’d be even worst. If someone like the Joker, or Penguin ever knew who he really was (and that was definitely a possibility), being with you would sign your death.

He had to-

“Oh god Bruce you are SO cliche.”

He slightly jumped in the air as Selina casually sat down beside him, looking down to the dark streets below. There was a slight fog, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how even the weather decided to join in ont he stereotype.

“Excuse me ?”

“You’re a living cliche. What, brooding all alone on a rooftop, on a full moon night, wondering if you should ruin your life or not, sacrifice your own happiness for dumb reasons.”

“What ?”

“What, breaking up with her to protect her ? Really ? Do you even know how dumb that sounds ?”

“I didn’t-”

“Your thoughts are plain to see. I know you, Bruce. And I noticed your face, ever since she got hurt. And what you’re thinking? Leaving her for her own safety ? D-U-M-B. So dumb.”

“Did you not pay attention to the close call she just had ?!”

“I was there to save her. And if I wasn’t, you would’ve barged in and save her. Or better yet, when I arrived, she had made her way half way through her bounds by slowly cutting it on the edge of her chair ! She might’ve escaped on her own !”

“Or gotten killed.”

“But she’s alive.”

“No thanks to me.”

“So what, you renounce happiness because maybe one day she’ll be in danger ? This is Gotham, Bruce. She is always in danger. And if you leave her alone, like I know you’re thinking about, she will definitely be an easy target. It’s not because you break up with her that people will stop thinking you care about her. In fact, after she got attacked like that, and it was made public, I bet the opposite will happen. Criminals in Gotham are a lot of things, but dumb is unfortunately not one of them. They WILL come after you if you leave her to fend for herself. If you break up.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. Come on Bruce. I was born here. You too. And her too. Hell, I saw her give a nasty right hook to more than one person, in the short time I’ve known her ! One of those being Mayor Hady himself, and that was BEFORE she started to date you, how fearless is she, huh ?”

“That’s the problem.”

“Her fearlessness ? Sounds to me like it to be taken advantage of. Train her. Teach her to fight, to defend herself. Give her the keys, to survive. Just like you gave yourself the keys to go on your “justice” mission.”

“I...I can’t.”

“Why ?”

“Because she...She shouldn’t live this kind of life.”

“A little late, no ? She knows who you really are already. And she stayed. Even then, shouldn’t this be her own choice ? Shouldn’t she decide on what she deserves ?”

“Selina-”

“Nu-hu. Don’t start with this. You tried to do the same with me, and I didn’t have the patience to stay. But I know she does. I know you can try to push her through the front door, she’ll climb through the window. She, unlike me or anyone else, will see right through your bullshit. Does, see right through your bullshit. And is willing to put up with it...You’ll never find someone else who does.”

“I know...”

“Then, what are you doing ?”

And with that, Selina rolled her eyes, grumbled something about him being a stubborn idiot, said : “think of her feelings for once, and not your own. Because you damn well know Bruce, that if you leave her, it will be out of selfishness, not because you think it’s truly the only way.”, and jumped from the building to the one next door, leaving Bruce with too many thoughts and dilemmas...

Even if in the end, the answer became obvious to him.

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

“As if I would ever let that happen anyway.”

“I’m sorry ?”

Years later, Bruce told you the story of how he almost broke up with you not long after you two moved in together, shortly before you adopted Dick.

“She was right you know ? I would’ve climbed through the window. See. If I knew for sure you were leaving me because you didn’t love me, then I would leave you alone of course. But I would’ve definitely called your bluff.”

“How can you be so sure ?”

He smiles fondly at you, bringing you into a warm embrace as you roll your eyes at him. Ah but of course, even him always knew you could see right through him, even when he tried to hide his emotions.

“Please, Bruce. You can’t fool me. You were never able to, and I don’t think you’ll ever learn to. Or I’ll just learn your new tricks, and crack you anyway. And believe me, if you had tried to leave me at that time...I wouldn’t’ve let that happen.”

He lays his forehead on yours, unable to say another word. Tonight, he was able to tell you this story that was now “silly”, but that almost tore his heart away from him.

Because if he had lose you to his own stupidness, he would’ve become just an empty shell. Back to those dark days of loneliness, and acting like a machine while his entire soul was hurting.

Sure. Now this story sounded silly. But oh, oh if he had gone through with it. If-

“I’ll have to thank Selina though. Because she avoided me going through the trouble of drilling into your thick skull that it’s ok to be happy. And be afraid for those you love. Especially in your situation...”

“I know.”

He holds you tighter. Just as every time he realizes how lucky he is to have another shot at this “family” thing. How lucky he is, that you’re here, with him.

And Selina was truly to thanks for that, in a way.

Because, you were almost sure you could’ve change his mind and not break up with you. But there was this slight possibility, this slight one you’d fail...

Maybe you would’n’t’ve been able to convince him to stay with you. Maybe. There was still a chance, right ? So you’re thankful. Your thankful for having such a good friend. For having Selina in your life.

You’re thankful that one day, a stupid mistake you made truly started this dear friendship.

The day she became a friend.

You had always been quite a “lone wolf” sort of person. So you didn’t have a lot of friends. Your childhood best friend, Alex, had moved across the country years ago. And making new friends as the wife of Bruce Wayne was hard.

This was a time BEFORE you met the others from the League. BEFORE any of them knew the Batman had a family.

Of course, before introducing you to them, he had to make sure things were safe. That they could be trusted (A/N : if you wanna see the day he does trust them, here’s the story I wrote about it haha : “You have kids ?? And…A WIFE ?”).

So, you didn’t have many friends. And sometimes...You wished you did.

Someone that wasn’t your Broosh. Or your kid. Or Alfred.

You told everything to Bruce, but sometimes...Well sometimes certain issues, you couldn’t talk to him about. Like for example the time he annoyed the hell out of you. Sure you’d tell it to his face, and you guys would fight, then work it out, and finally make up, and you didn’t want to bring back the issues you know ? You wouldn’t vent to him about him, eh ?

Bruce was definitely your best friend. But he was also the man you loved. And sometimes, it was nice to have an “outside” perspective.

Someone with whom you could gossip a little (although you did gossip plenty with your husband, when at charity balls and galas).

And then, slowly, you realized what you actually were feeling...

Selina.

You were missing her.

It had been a little while since the last time you saw her.

Ever since she saved your life, and knocked some sense in your Broosh, whenever you saw her, you’d have such a interesting and compelling conversations.

It was oh so pleasant, to gang up on Bruce and make fun of him. His pride was always hit, and he’d frown in such a delightful way.

At the same time, she knew him rather well, and you knew him rather well, and you three had a lot in common and it sometimes felt like you were a trio from a very cliched “chosen one” story.

Hermione, Ron, Harry.

Percy, Annabeth, Grover.

Any trio really. It even inspired some of your stories. Yet...Yet you wouldn’t call her quite a “friend”. Why that ?

You weren’t sure. It just was never made official, and in your anxiety riddled mind it meant that you weren’t friends, then.

Yet you missed her. And earlier in the day, you saw something that made you want to call her and talk to her about it !

Should you call her ? Send a text ? You had her number. She once wrote it on a napkin and slipped it in your pocket right in front of Bruce, just to mess with him. You kept it, and put it in your phone, not really knowing why.

Taking your phone, you started to draft a text (it had to be drafted before being send, it you were even going to send it...your anxiety made it so that even with texts, you had to make sure you didn’t sound stupid or such).

You didn’t really have any intention to send it. You were just toying with a few ideas when...

No. Oh no.

Oh fuck. No. No no no no no no.

Instead of hitting the “back” key to erase the text for good and move on from this weird move, you pressed “send”. Shit. Fuck. Motherfucker.

It was such a dumb text as well.

“Hey girlfriend, wanna hang out ?”

You were just trying out different ways of writing a text, and were entering “stupid silly mode”, which was the step right before you usually gave up and didn’t send something (you had MANY of those moments when starting to date Bruce...Moments during which you almost send some really sappy and silly texts, making the mistakes a few time to indeed press “send”...mortifying...why, why were you never learning from your mistakes ?!).

You were in your office, in the Wayne Inc building (you settled your writing office there, so it was more convenient to see your Bruce, but also to handle taking care of your son, Dick), downright panicking about this stupid text, when you heard a knock on your door.

How long had you been beating yourself down about this ? AN HOUR ?! Damn. Anxiety never let you keep track of time. You-

“Hey...girlfriend.”

Bollocks.

It was her. Selina. And you could hear her smug smile in her voice. You were facing your windows, not wanting to turn around, and it was getting a little awkward. Selina broke the silence :

“Listen, I thought you did want to hang out and was just making an inside joke by being overly girly, you know, imitating those models Bruce used to date ? But I realize maybe this was um, a mistake ?”

She sounds so unsure. You never heard her sound unsure before ! So you turn around, and here she is, a little shy.

Catwoman. A little shy ?

And all of a sudden, you realize she must’ve felt the same about you. Consider you a friend, but since you never talked about it never took it for granted, for something sure, settled in stone ?

And your text maybe confirmed you were, indeed, friends ?

And here it was.

From that day, and on.

The official beginning of your friendship.

Of course, you both saw the other as a friend since a while before, but it’s with this embarrassing text that it really changed everything.

Made it “official”.

Made it clear to the both of you.

It never occurred to you that Selina too, could sometimes have insecurities and be anxious. But that day, as she shyly responded to your call, hopeful it meant you were really friends...

Being her, it was also hard to make friend.

She had been friend with Bruce for a long time. The fact she was yours now too, filled her with joy. Because she really liked the both of you, in the most platonic way that ever existed.

Yes. Her and Bruce worked better as friends anyway.

Ah. But wasn’t this how the best friendship started ? With a push from fate, a little awkwardness, and a lot of laughter once the initial shock passed ?

Girls night out.

It happened a day during which you, Dinah and Lois were...not in a great mood.

Your husbands were aggravating, your children got into troubles and shenanigans, you had so much to do...it was a lot of stress, and it was all released at the same time.

You all left your house yelling that you “needed air”, and left behind rather stunned husbands and children. Ah but yes, everything wasn’t always perfect, even amongst loving families.

And your first reflex ? To call each others.

That’s it. That’s how girls night out started. The realization sometimes you needed to wind down with some friends. But quickly, you realized that the three of you talked mainly about your kids and husbands, and by extension, the “superhero work”. Which was fine, you needed to vent but...It wasn’t helping you relieve some tension.

And that’s when you got an idea.

Who better than Selina Kyle to make you NOT talk about your families ?

You joined in a bar every first Wednesday of the month, starting at happy hours for you, Dinah and Lois. Ranting about your families, and about annoying habits your husbands had etc etc...And then you were joined a bit later in the evening by Selina and Diana.

And that’s when the fun really began.

It became a ritual.

Girls night out (A/N : maybe I should write a story about that one day haha).

This was one such night, and you had let lose a little bit more than usual because...for the first night in nine months, you could drink a little bit of alcohol.

Alcohol had never been your thing, but a sweet cocktail there and there was nice. Now, while being pregnant with your youngest, Thomas, obviously you weren’t going to do that.

And you had missed a few “girls night out” because you were too damn pregnant.

But now, he was OUT, and you were TOO.

Well. Diana said something like that, as she kept giving you more and more cocktails.

Long story short, you were a little tipsy. And definitely not able to drive. And so here was your savior, Selina.

She didn’t really drink, knowing you would totally let loose. So she drove you home.

You were coming back a little later than usual, and you had forgotten to send a little text to Bruce to tell him so so he wouldn’t worry (Selina did it for you though, true friend had your back eh ? And she definitely didn’t want the Batman to come barge in on your girls night fun).

He opened the door as you walked up the stairs, saying bye to Selina. She had that smirk on her face, the one you knew she always had when about to tease your beloved husband. And as he slipped an arm around your waist, and turned to wave goodbye to her...She did just that :

“Careful Bat, I’m making good progress with her. If you’re not wary enough, I’ll steal her from you.”

On that note, Selina winks at the both of you, puts on her sunglasses (while it was night...Oh Selina), and drives away, smiling widely of that very Catwomanesque smug smile. Which makes you chuckle. She always made you laugh rather easily.

You turn to your bruce and...

Oh. That adorable “jealous frown” got you every time. Your smile shifts from amused to utterly affectionate, and you put your hands on his cheeks.

He was looking at Selina’s car fading into the distance, the arm he had around you tightening slightly (you were pretty sure he wasn’t even consciously doing it). Your hands on his cheeks didn’t seem to register in his mind.

So a further distraction was needed. You brush your lips against his cheek, as an attempt to drive his attention back to you and...it works.

You smile at him, and in your little hazy state you whisper in his ear :

“I love you, my Broosh.”

He can’t help but feel a surge of warm feelings towards you, and bring you in a tight hug. Partly because he can’t help it, partly because he’s trying to hide the slight blush growing on his face whenever you surprise him with “I love yous”, and that always made him snicker at him...Only you could fluster him so.

“I love you too.”

You tripped on air, as, once again, you were a little tipsy, and he catches you...Good, he needed an excuse to carry you bridal style anyway.

He always liked doing so, any excuse to have you near really. And as your face approach for a loving kiss you-

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

“Wait wait wait mooooom !! You don’t have to leave this gross part in !”

“What gross part ?”

“The sappy declaration of love, and the kiiiisses !!”

“Oh ? But don’t every story have to end with a kiss ? And a happy ever after ?”

“Nu-huh ! Also HEY ! None of your stories end like this, I know, I read them all !”

You chuckle slowly at your boy’s reaction, and kiss him on the forehead. Quite touched he read all your stories.

“Time for bed, little buddy.”

You say, slipping out of his quilt and tucking him in. You can see he pensively thinks about your little friendship story, and finally he says :

“I’ll try to be nicer to Miss Kyle. I never trusted her, because of her past with father. But maybe she deserves a chance ?”

“She does.”

“If you say so, then I believe it.”

It touches you, how much blind faith your son puts in you. You smile, giving him another kiss to his forehead, as he says :

“Thank you for telling me the story, mom. It was nice.”

Behind this “it was nice”, there isn’t just the story itself, but the knowledge that as you grow up...Your feelings change.

You change.

And you go through a lot of heartaches, before finally finding the right persons to surround yourself with.

Beyond the story itself, Damian related to how it took both you and Bruce a lot of trials and errors, before finding each others. How you loved before you met the other, but it never compared to how you love each others.

How you found good friends along the way, and how even when things sounded desperate and lonely...you made it through.

So he could certainly do so, too ? Even more so since now, he was a big brother.

Thomas was barely a few weeks old, but Damian had already taken his role very seriously. And you knew he was going to continue to grow, to love, to hurt too sometimes...and to evolve.

Just like you and Bruce did.

So. No. You didn’t hate Selina Kyle just because she and your husband used to be a thing. In fact...

In fact, Selina had become both of your best friend. Unfortunately for Bruce, she often took your side on everything, and LOVED to drive him crazy by openly flirting with you.

And she had been by your side through many good moments, and bad ones. The first to respond when your family needed it. The one you’d always be there for, and vice versa.

A best friend.

Quite an important find.

When you met Bruce, not only did you meet the love of your life, but also one of your best and most precious friend.

Conclusion : is it possible to be friend with your husband’s ex ? Absolutely.

Especially when that “ex” was someone as extraordinary as Selina Kyle, and when the love that linked you and your husband was so impossible to even graze.

__________________________________________________

And yet another bonus story that I had no intention to write but suddenly felt the need to haha. Don’t worry, the rest of the stories I announced are still coming ;). I guess there’s nothing bad in having little bonus ones in between hehe. I hope you liked this, again it’s just a little drabble.

As usual comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and motivating <3.

PS : I wrote this, like all drabbles, in like thirty minutes. Didn’t re-read. Sorry for any typos. Don’t hesitate to point any huge ones to me, Ill change it x_x.

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kmclaude · 3 years

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Forgive me Father, I have no awful headcanons for you, only a general question on comic making. How do you do it, writing-wise/how do you decide what points go where, how do you plot it out (or do you have any resources on the writing aspect that you find useful?) Not to get too bogged down in details, but I attended a writer’s workshop and the author in residence suggested I transfer my wordy sci-fi WIP into graphic novel script, as it might work better. (I do draw, but I don’t know if I have it in me to draw a whole comic—characters in motion? Doing things? With backgrounds? How dare, why can’t everyone just stand around looking pretty)

I was interested but it quickly turned into a lot of internal screaming as I tried to figure out how to compress the hell out of it, since novels are free to do a lot more internal monologuing and such compared to a comic format (to say nothing of trying to write a script without seeing how the panels lay out—just for my own sake, I might have to do both concurrently.)

As an aside, to get a feel for graphic novels I was rereading 99RM and was reminded of how great it was—tightly plotted, intriguing, and anything to do with Ashmedai was just beautifully drawn. I need more Monsignor Tiefer and something something there are parallels between Jehan and Daniel in my head and I don’t know if they make sense but it works for me. (As an aside, I liked the emphasis on atonement being more than just the word sorry, but acknowledgment you did wrong and an attempt to remedy it—I don’t know why that spoke to me the way that it did.)

I thought Tumblr had a word count limit for asks but so far it has offered zero resistance, oh well. I don’t have much else to say but on the topic of 99RM, Adam getting under Monsignor’s skin is amazing, 10/10 (about the Pride picture earlier)

wow tumblr got rid of the markdown editor! or at least in asks which means the new editor probably has no markdown....god i hate this site! anyway...

Totally! So first, giant thank you for the compliments! Second, I have a few questions in turn for you before I dive into a sort of answer, since I can give some advice to your questions in general but it also sounds like you have a specific conundrum on your hands.

My questions to your specific situation are:

did the author give any reason for recommending a, in your words, "wordy" story be turned into a graphic novel?

is the story you're writing more, like you said, "internal monologuing"? action packed? where do the visuals come from?

do you WANT it to be a comic? furthermore, do you want it to be a comic you then must turn around and draw? or would you be interested in writing for comics as a comic writer to have your words turned into art?

With those questions in mind, let me jump into the questions you posed me!

Let me start with a confession...

I've said this before but let me say it again: Ninety-Nine Righteous Men was not originally a comic — it was a feature-length screenplay! And furthermore, it was written for a class so it got workshopped again and again to tighten the plot by a classroom of other nerds — so as kind as your compliments are, I'm giving credit where credit is due as that was not just a solo ship sailing on the sea. On top of that, it got adapted (by me) into a comic for my thesis, so my advisor also helped me make it translate or "read" well given I was director, actor, set designer, writer, editor, SFX guy, etc. all in one. And it was a huge help to have someone say "there is no way you can go blow by blow from script to comic: you need to make edits!" For instance, two scenes got compressed to simple dialogue overlaid on the splashpage of Ashmedai raping Caleb (with an insert panel of Adam and Daniel talking the next day.) What had been probably at least 5 pages became 1.

Additionally, I don't consider myself a strong plotter. That said, I found learning to write for film made the plotting process finally make some damn sense since the old plot diagram we all got taught in grammar school English never made sense as a reader and definitely made 0 sense as a writer — for me, for some reason, the breakdown of 25-50-25 (approx. 25 pages for act 1, 50 for act 2 split into 2 parts of 25 each, 25 pages for act 3) and the breaking down of the beats (the act turning points, the mid points, the low point) helped give me a structure that just "draw a mountain, rising action, climax is there, figure it out" never did. Maybe the plot diagram is visually too linear when stories have ebb and flow? I don't know. But it never clicked until screenwriting. So that's where I am coming from. YMMV.

I should also state that there's Official Ways To Write Comic Scripts to Be Drawn By An Artist (Especially If You Work For A Real Publisher As a Writer) and there's What Works For You/Your Team. I don't give a rat's ass about the former (and as an artist, I kind of hate panel by panel breakdowns like you see there) so I'm pretty much entirely writing on the latter here. I don't give a good god damn about official ways of doing anything: what works for you to get it done is what matters.

What Goes Where?

Like I said, 99RM was a screenplay so it follows, beat-wise, the 3-act screenplay structure (hell, it's probably more accurate to say it follows the act 1/act 2A/act 2B/act 3 structure.) So there was the story idea or concept that then got applied to those story beats associated with the structure, and from there came the Scene-by-scene Breakdown (or Expanded Scene Breakdown) which basically is an outline of beats broken down into individual scenes in short prose form so you get an overview of what happens, can see pacing, etc. In the resources at the end I put some links that give information on the whole story beat thing.

(As an aside: for all my short comics, I don't bother with all that, frankly. I usually have an image or a concept or a bit of writing — usually dialogue or monologue, sometimes a concrete scene — that I pick at and pick at in a little sketchbook, going back and forth between writing and thumbnail sketches of the page. Or I just go by the seat of my pants and bullshit my way through. Either or. Those in many ways are a bit more like poems, in my mind: they are images, they are snapshots, they are feelings that I'm capturing in a few panels. Think doing mental math rather than writing out geometric proofs, yanno?)

Personally, I tend to lean on dialogue as it comes easier for me (it's probably why I'm so drawn to screenwriting!) so for me, if I were to do another longform GN, I'd probably take my general "uhhhhhh I have an idea and some beats maybe so I guess this should happen this way?" outline and start breaking it down scene by scene (I tend to write down scenes or scene sketches in that "uhhhh?" outline anyway LOL) and then figure out basic dialogue and action beats — in short, I'd kind of do the work of writing a screenplay without necessarily going full screenplay format (though I did find the format gave me an idea of timing/pacing, as 1 page of formatted script is about equal to 1 minute of screentime, and gave me room to sketch thumbnails or make edits on the large margins!) If you're not a monologue/soliloque/dialogue/speech person and more an image and description person, you may lean more into visuals and scenes that cut to each other.

Either way this of course introduces the elephant in the panel: art! How do you choose what to draw?

The answer is, well, it depends! The freedom of comics is if you can imagine it, you can make it happen. You have the freedoms (and audio limitations) of a truly silent film with none of the physical limitations. Your words can move in real time with the images or they can be a narrative related to the scene or they could be nonsequitors entirely! The better question is how do you think? Do you need all the words and action written first before you break down the visuals? Do you need a panel by panel breakdown to be happy, or can you freewheel and translate from word and general outlines to thumbnails? What suits you? I really cannot answer this because I think when it comes to what goes where with regard to art, it's a bit of "how do you process visuals" and also a bit of "who's drawing this?" — effectively, who is the interpreter for the exact thing you are writing? Is it you or someone else? If it's you, would you benefit from a barebones script alongside thumbnailed paneling? Would you be served by a barebones script, then thumbnails, then a new script that includes panel and page breakdowns? What frees you up to do what you need to do to tell your story?

If I'm being honest, I don't necessarily worry about panels or what something will look like necessarily until I'm done writing. I may have an image that I clearly state needs to happen. I may even have a sequence of panels that I want to see and I do indeed sketch that out and make note of it in my script. But exactly how things will be laid out, paneled, situated? That could change up until I've sketched my final pencils in CSP (but I am writer and artist so admittedly I get that luxury.)

How do I compress from novel to comic?

Honest answer? You don't. Not really. You adapt from one to another. It's more a translation. Something that would take forever to write may take 1 page in a comic or may take a whole issue.

I'm going to pick on Victor Hugo. Victor Hugo spent a whole-ass book in Notre-Dame de Paris talking about a bird's eye view of Paris and other medieval architecture boring stuff, with I guess some foreshadowing with Montfaucon. Who cares. Not me. I like story. Anyway. When we translate that book to a movie any of the billion times someone's done that, we don't spend a billion years talking at length about medieval Paris. There's no great monologuing about the gibbet or whatever: you get to have some establishing shots, maybe a musical number, and then you move tf on. Because it's a movie, right? Your visuals are right there. We can see medieval Paris. We can see the cathedral. We can see the gibbet. We don't need a whole book: it's visually right there. Same with a comic: you may need many paragraphs to describe, say, a space station off of Sirius and one panel to show it.

On the flip side, you may take one line, maybe two, to say a character keyed in the special code to activate the holodeck; depending on the visual pacing, that could be a whole page of panels (are we trying to stretch time? slow it down? what are we emphasizing?) A character gives a sigh of relief — one line of text, yeah? That could be a frozen panel while a conversation continues on or that could be two (or more!) panels, similar to the direction [a beat] in screenwriting.

Sorry there's not a super easy answer there to the question of compression: it's a lot more of a tug, a push-pull, that depends on what you're conveying.

So Do I Have It In Me to Write & Draw a GN?

The only way you'll know is by doing. Scary, right? The thing is, you don't necessarily need to be an animation king or God's gift to background artists to draw a comic.

Hell, I hate backgrounds. I still remember sitting across from my friend who said "Claude you really need to draw an establishing exterior of the church at some point" and me being like "why do you hate me specifically" because drawing architecture? Again? I already drew the interior of the church altar ONCE, that should be enough, right? But I did draw an exterior of the church. Sorta. More like the top steeple. Enough to suggest what I needed to suggest to give the audience a better sense of place without me absolutely losing my gourd trying to render something out of my wheelhouse at the time.

And that's kinda the ticket, I think. Not everyone's a master draftsman. Not everyone has all the skills in every area. And regardless, from page one to page one hundred, your skills will improve. That's all part of it — and in the meantime, you should lean into your strengths and cheat where you can.

Do you need to lovingly render a background every single panel? Christ no! Does every little detail need to be drawn out? Sure if you want your hand to fall off. Cheat! Use Sketchup to build models! Use Blender to sculpt forms to paint over! Use CSP Assets for prebuilt models and brushes if you use CSP! Take photographs and manip them! Cheat! Do what you need to do to convey what you need to convey!

For instance, a tip/axiom/"rule" I've seen is one establishing shot per scene minimum and a corollary to that has been include a background once per page minimum as grounding (no we cannot all have eternal floating heads and characters in the void. Unless your comic is set in the void. In which case, you do you.) People ain't out here drawing hyper detailed backgrounds per each tiny panel. The people who DO do that are insane. Or stupid. Or both. Or have no deadline? Either way, someone's gonna have a repetitive stress injury... Save yourself the pain and the headache. Take shortcuts. Save your punches for the big K.O. moments.

Start small. Make an 8-page zine. Tell a beginning, a middle, an end in comic form. Bring a scene to life in a few pages. See what you're comfortable drawing and where you struggle. See where you can lean heavily into your comfort zones. Learn how to lean out of your comfort zone. Learn when it's worth it to do the latter.

Or start large. Technically my first finished comic (that wasn't "a dumb pencil thing I drew in elementary school" or "that 13 volume manga I outlined and only penciled, what, 7 pages of in sixth grade" or "random one page things I draw about my characters on throw up on the interwebz") was 99RM so what do I know. I'm just some guy on the internet.

(That's not self-deprecating, I literally am some guy on the internet talking about my path. A lot of this is gonna come down to you and what vibes with you.)

Resources on writing

Some of these are things that help me and some are things that I crowd-sourced from others. Some of these are going to be screenwriting based, some will be comic based.

Making Comics by Scott McCloud: I think everyone recommends this but I think it is a useful book if you're like "ahh!!! christ!! where do I start!!!???" It very much breaks down the elements of comics and the world they exist in and the principles involved, with the caveat that there are no rules! In fact, I need to re-read it.

Comic Book Design: I picked this up at B&N on a whim and in terms of just getting a bird's eye view of varied ways to tackle layout and paneling? It's such a great resource and reference! I personally recommend it as a way to really get a feel for what can be done.

the screenwriter's bible: this is a book that was used in my class. we also used another book that's escaping me but to be honest, I never read anything in school and that's why I'm so stupid. anyway, I'd say check it out if you want, especially if you start googling screenwriting stuff and it's like 20 billion pieces of advice that make 0 sense -- get the core advice from one place and then go from there.

Drawing Words & Writing Pictures: many people I know recommended this. I think I have it? It may be in storage. So frankly, I'd already read a bunch of books on comics before grabbing this that it kind of felt like a rehash. Which isn't shade on the authors — I personally was just a sort of "girl, I don't need comics 101!!!"

Invisible Ink: A Practical Guide to Building Stories that Resonate: this has been recommended so many times to me. I cannot personally speak on it but I can say I do trust those who rec'd it to me so I am passing it along

the story circle: this is pretty much the hero's journey. a useful way to think of journeys! a homie pretty much swears by it

a primer on beats: quick google search got me this that outlines storybeats

save the cat!: what the above refers to, this gives a more genre-specific breakdown. also wants to sell you on the software but you don't need that.

I hope this helps and please feel free to touch base with more info about your specific situation and hopefully I'll have more applicable answers.

#writing #making a graphic novel #writing a graphic novel #tutorial #writing tutorial

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bffsoobin · 4 years

Text

Apartment 370

↳everything about your apartment was perfect. Aside from your neighbor. Choi Soobin has become the bane of your existence. You can’t go a single day without looking over your shoulder for your misleadingly handsome neighbor. Just how many petty pranks does he think he can get away with?

➤ enemies to lovers!au, neighbors!au, arguments, petty behavior, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,062

Requested?: yes

Warnings: none really other than swearing and Soobin kind of being an ass. I also didn’t proof read or edit this, as per usual.

A/N: To be honest I’m feeling a little unsure about this? I loved the concept and I’m very glad that a lovely follower requested it but I feel like lately all of my writing has started out really well and then just got progressively worse? Like all of the endings I write are just kind of lame? Just a weird insecurity I’ve been encountering lately. So please leave me some feedback on what you think about this!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

You loved your apartment. It was small, but just right for you to live in. The shower had hot water, your bedroom had a beautiful window for your plants to sit on and the wifi connection was always working well. You even only had to travel up two flights of stairs if your elevator stopped working. There were a lot of pros to living at your complex. But there was one, massive, glaring and obnoxiously loud con. Choi Soobin. When he had moved in next to you, you tried to be nice. You knocked on his door and introduced yourself; making some kind of lame joke about borrowing sugar.

He didn’t laugh. He just introduced himself back and apologized for not having any sugar. Apologized? Had he really missed the joke that bad? Your delivery had been impeccable. Despite his charming face and annoyingly adorable style, you decided there was no way you could be friends with someone who didn’t understand a classic joke.

Soobin must have decided there was a reason he didn’t like you either, because just about a week into being neighbors he began to wreak havoc. He played music as loud as it possibly could be at the weirdest times of the day and yelled at his television way too much no matter what he was watching. It seemed like every day you had to storm over and knock on his door to complain. This went on for weeks until he finally agreed to stop when you threatened to involve your burly landlord in the matter.

For a few days, you enjoyed peace and quiet. You came and went from work without seeing him, took naps in silence and remembered how it felt to cook in your own kitchen without the sound of a twenty something year old man screaming at reruns of Survivor as background music.

As they say, ignorance is bliss, because little did you know Soobin’s silence was about to erupt into a new, massive volcano of stupidity. One night you woke up around 4 am to the sound of scratching coming from the wall that connected your and Soobin’s bedrooms. You were already annoyed at the fact that you had to be up at 7am to pick up an early shift for your slacking coworker, so you didn’t have it in you to just roll over and go back to bed. You couldn’t have if you wanted to anyway because the scratching noises were only getting more and more persistent. You flung yourself out of bed with a groan. Pets were allowed here, and it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Soobin had gotten a cat who decided to be a little extra scratchy.

You poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen, hoping to clear your mind and sort your thoughts. In the silence of the night, you could hear Soobin’s panicked voice through the thin walls. It sounded like he was on the phone with someone, as you could hear pauses as if he were listening to someone else. What a weird fucking dude, you thought. With eyes still drooping you walked back to your bedroom. The cat would have to be done scratching at the wall by now, right?

Wrong. The same consistent noise that would surely haunt your dreams still persisted. Knowing Soobin was awake gave you enough grounds to throw on a sweatshirt over your sleep clothes and go knock on his door.

When it swung open, you could see just how distraught he was. His usually fluffy hair was flat and knotted and his eyes were sporting huge dark circles that only made the panic in them amplified. Wait, panic?

“Y/N, I’m really sorry but you need to leave,” he had the door open just far enough to stick his head and shoulders out, as if he were trying to hide something.

“No, Soobin. I heard your cat scratching at the wall and it’s annoying the hell out of me. I can’t sleep. Can’t you lock it in the bathroom or something?” His face scrunched in confusion.

“A cat? I don’t have a cat.” Your insides boiled with hatred at the idea of him trying to lie his way out of this.

“Listen up Choi. Unless you have a dragon in your bedroom scratching the shit out of the walls, I don’t want to deal with your lies. Just take care of it! I need my beauty sleep and you and your noisy cat aren’t helping at all.” Soobin’s face paled and for a second you thought that you had finally won. And then Soobin said:

“It’s not a cat. It’s a racoon.”

You almost fell onto your ass right in the hallway. Soobin’s eyes sparked with a type of mirth you never thought such an admittedly gorgeous face could possess.

“I’m calling the landlord.” You snapped the door shut in his face and turned away.

That had apparently been the final straw for Soobin. The next day when you got back from work, you found a handwritten “RACOON HATER” sign taped to your door. What you found inside was somehow even more unsettling. Your whole living room and kitchen had been essentially trashed. Throw pillows and blankets were thrown haphazardly on the floor, many of your photos and art you had on the walls were switched around or taken down altogether. And the worst of it all; everything was covered in a fine dust of glitter. It was a struggle to find a single surface that wasn’t covered in glitter, really.

A new type of dislike for Choi Soobin brewed in your stomach. Hatred. Your kitchen counter- also covered in a dust of chunky silver glitter- became the victim of your frustrations as you slammed your hands down. It would cost you so much time and money to get all the glitter out of your living spaces, let alone the fact that you'd inevitably be leaving some behind for the next poor soul to rent this apartment. Gritting your teeth, you went to work with your poor little vacuum.

You had only managed to clean your coffee table and half of your couch before you heard a series of loud knocks on your door. You grumbled at the idea of having to take a pause in your work but you trudged over to the door anyway.

To be honest, you had no idea who you were expecting to see behind your apartment door-which you belatedly realized was still decorated with Soobin’s handmade sign- but you didn’t think it would be the man himself.

Soobin stood in the hallway, picture perfect as always. His face was tan and smooth and free from any possible blemishes. Had he plucked his eyebrows? They were groomed to neat perfection. His tall frame was dwarfed by a fuzzy blue sweatshirt that was easily a size too big. If you had met him by chance on the street, you would have fallen in love in an instant. But you knew better. You knew he was the one who reduced your once lovely apartment into the mess it was now.

“Oh, sorry,” he feigned innocence, “are you busy?” He didn’t even try to hide the smirk that blossomed on his face. A grumble of a curse fell from your lips before you responded.

“Yeah. Some asshole decided to break into my apartment and spread glitter on everything. So yes, I’m sort of busy,” you laced your voice with enough venom to kill a horse, and it seemed as if Soobin had gotten the message as he shrunk back into the hallway a bit. His mouth opened and shut in rapid succession as he struggled to find the perfect retort.

“I-” he cut himself off as his soft eyes became hyper focused on a spot on your face. Suddenly you were a new combination of concerned and offended. His hand hesitantly rose toward your face before the softness of his fingertips made contact with your cheek and brushed something away. You held your breath the entire time, unsure if you should be upset or worried or utterly lost in the way his skin felt against yours. The contact was brief but still made your skin burn bright red. When his hand left your cheek, you saw that he had brushed away a piece of glitter that was now resting delicately on his fingertip.

“Sorry,” he hurried out, “I just wanted to get the glitter off of your face.” His whole demeanor had changed, and you were sure that whatever plan he had in mind when he knocked on your door had vanished.

“Okay, weirdo,” you tried to ignore the way you were yearning to feel his touch again, “I’m still busy so can you like, go away?” Upon hearing your words he turned away to head for his apartment door with ears as red as you’d ever seen them.

Although the glitter incident was now months behind you, you still often found pieces in random spots around your home. And Soobin was still a pain in your ass. He had been quiet for close to two weeks after your odd encounter and you were almost convinced that he had changed his ways. You were quickly proven wrong when he conned the man who works the front desk into hiding your mail for a week straight; making you subsequently late to paying some of your bills.

More recently, a new person had moved into the apartment across the way. The first day you met him, you were busying yourself with taping up Soobin’s door with bright pink duct tape from the outside. Your new neighbor-who you learned to be named Yeonjun- had squatted down right next to you and offered to help tear pieces of the tape.

You and Yeonjun had become fast friends. He was incredibly charming and willing to lend an ear every time you needed to complain about Soobin. For a while, you were almost able to forget the fact that the devil incarnate lived next door to you. While your work schedules tended to be a little crazy, the two of you managed to talk for at least a few minutes every day. He helped you gain some sanity back within your apartment hallway.

Despite also being friends with Soobin, Yeonjun never took sides in your little feud; but you were always secretly worried that somehow Soobin would put a bug in his ear. One day, about two months after Yeonjun had moved in, he knocked on your door while you were in the middle of making dinner. You invited him in but he hesitated.

“I just came to talk to you,” he bit into his bottom lip, “I really like you. But I don’t see us ever being more than friends. I hope you understand.” You scrunched your eyebrows. Where was this coming from?

“Uh okay? I know that. I don’t like you...like that, Yeonjun. Did you hit your head or something?” You were seriously confused. Yeonjun’s eyes widened comically.

“Well Soobin said that-“ as soon as the words fell out of his mouth Yeonjun put together the invisible puzzle pieces. His face morphed into extreme regret. “I’m so sorry. I should have known it was part of your weird prank war. You should have seen how convincing his acting is though, he really had me thinking you had a crush on me.” You scoffed at the idea of Soobin beginning to spread rumors to one of your closest friends just for the hell of it. If Yeonjun hadn’t been mature enough to address it right away, you could have gone through weeks of confusion about why he was avoiding you.

You looked back at your kitchen, catching sight of the steaming bowl of ramen you’d just finished making. Sighing, you shut your door behind you to stand in the hall with Yeonjun. He looked sheepish in your presence as you laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not mad at you, Yeonjun. I’m going to talk to the bane of my existence,” you gestured toward the door with the shiny ‘370’ plaque. “Just don’t bother calling the landlord if you hear yelling.” As soon as you heard the sound of Yeonjun’s door snapping shut, you laid into Soobin’s door with a heavy knock. As soon as it was opened far enough, you wedged your body inside and subsequently sent Soobin stumbling backwards.

“How dare you?” You roared, throwing your hands in the air dramatically. “I’m fine with your petty pranks and all the other stupid shit you pull against me because that’s all between the two of us. At least it’s funny and gives me something to think about in my free time. But when you start to involve my friends? That’s way too far. There was no reason to rope Yeonjun into this. He’s your friend too, Choi.” Soobin seemed surprised that you had come in with so much to say right off the bat.

“Y/N it’s really not that big of a deal. I just wanted to see if you actually had the capacity to have a crush on someone. And you’ve been spending so much time with Yeonjun I figured he’d be the perfect person to test my theory with, plus the humiliation factor of him not liking you back would have kept me entertained for days” he sat down on his couch casually, “I guess he had to break it to you that you aren’t as flirty and irresistible as you think you are, huh?” The air crackled with tension as you gawked down at his sprawled form.

“What are you even saying? Yeonjun and I are just friends. And why does it matter to you if I have the capacity for a crush or not? You hate me. If you’re just waiting until I get a boyfriend so that you can come in and ruin it all with your shitty vendetta then you’re much worse of a person than I ever pegged you for!” Tears welled in your eyes but you wiped at them angrily. Out of all the fights and disagreements you’d ever had with Soobin, this was the first one that stirred an odd emotion in the pit of your stomach. You were tired of the back and forth. Soobin seemed oddly alarmed at the formation of your tears as he got up from the comfort of his couch and approached you like a wounded dog.

“Trust me, I have no grand plan to ruin your life at every turn even though that’s what you think. You spend so much time with Yeonjun, I thought maybe you liked him. I knew he didn’t like you because when I told him that I-” Soobin actually clapped his own giant hand over his mouth as the words hung in the air between you. Anger shot through your mind at the idea that he didn’t even have the guts to relay the entire story.

“You what? You’re so wrapped up in your own little world but you can’t even finish telling me what you said to someone else? I can’t believe you, honestly,” you turned and made your way toward his door, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a hot shower. Soobin’s hand clasped around your wrist as he gently yanked you away from the exit. His strong grip kept you standing right in front of him and although you struggled against him, there was no use.

“I told him that I like you.” For a second, you thought that you had misheard him, but he continued. “I told Yeonjun that I like you. And he told me that I should go for it, because he doesn’t see you as more than a friend. But I freaked out so I told him that you liked him. I knew you probably actually didn’t.”

Your brain was short circuiting at the confession. Choi Soobin, who had complicated your life beyond belief since the day he moved in months ago liked you?

“But,” your eyebrows drew together as you tried to comprehend it all, “you hate me, Soobin. We have a whole...rivalry! There’s no way you actually have feelings for me. I swear if this is just another prank I’ll shove my hand so far down your throat-“ Soobin threw his hands up in front of his body in a form of defense.

“No! I don’t hate you, Y/N. I’ve liked you since the day we met. I just thought the pranks and petty stuff was like...our way of hanging out? That’s why I kept doing them. I thought you were having fun with me.” It was ridiculous how much he sounded like a little boy explaining his side of the story to a teacher. It was even more ridiculous that the corner of your brain where you’d stuffed all your feelings for Soobin began to overflow.

“Haven’t you ever heard that there’s much better ways to tell someone you like them? We could have spent the last 11 months not at each other’s throats if you would have just manned up and found out I like you too.” You saw the exact moment that the words finally processed and his entire face lit up with the recognition.

A familiar, deeply dimpled smile grew across his face as his skin reddened. He clasped his hands in front of him and swayed back and forth on his feet. Before you could think to stop him, he leaned in close enough that you worried he could hear your heart thumping against your ribs.

“You like me too?”

“Yes, Soobin. I like you too. And I would like you even more if you stopped your stupid pranks,” you tapped his nose with your pointer finger twice. He nodded eagerly with his tongue sticking out from between his teeth slightly.

“Deal,” he stuck his hand out to you and you raised an eyebrow to silently ask if he was serious. His hand didn’t waver, so you grasped it firmly and pulled him toward your body until you could wrap him into a tight hug. It was an odd feeling, soaking in Soobin’s scent as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth in his apartment. Odd, but good. Perfect.

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Photo

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?!”

He’d done it and he’d done it proper.

“I told you it wasn’t safe. I told you not to go in. But no, you know better.”

Oh, yes, he had done it proper. He hadn’t heard Virgil go off the deep end like this since high school and the time Gordon had decided to not be where he was supposed to be at school pick up and the three hours of terror that followed.

Admittedly, Scott had been just as angry at the time. It was a whole new perspective to be on the receiving end.

“Virg-“

“No, Scott. I’ve had it. You obviously don’t trust my judgment. You think you know better. Well, newsflash, hot shot, you don’t!”

Oh, yes, this was going to go on for some time.

So, he kept his mouth shut. It would be worse if Virgil realised that not only had his jet pack run out of fuel, but it had dropped him from quite a height. Without warning…he must speak to Brains about that. Fortunately, he had rolled down a slope and into an underground lake.

Unfortunately, the slope had been jagged and torn up his uniform somewhat. There was likely some bruising.

And the lake had been damned cold.

Virgil had been livid by the time he had arrived in Two. Yes, he had told Scott not to go in. Yes, it had been a gamble. But if it had worked, Scott would have been able to locate the cavers much faster than Gordon who was still looking with a second pod while Virgil hunted down their wayward commander.

Of course, Virgil had found him as fast as possible, but the engineer had had the remainder of Two’s flight time and the pod hike down into the massive cave network to stew on the stupidity of his brother.

Scott was forced to agree that he might have a point. But he was not going to apologise. Command decisions were command decisions whether they succeeded or failed. He owed no-one an explanation.

Regardless, he was sat in the back of the pod so far, he may as well be sentenced to the trunk, while Virgil blew steam.

On any other occasion he would have given as good as he got, but to be honest, he wasn’t feeling so great.

The pod itself was clambering up an almost vertical cliff - proof that flying in was far more practical than climbing - and Virgil’s concentration between expletives needed to be focussed. Scott would mention it on the next flat bit.

But then they would be getting out of here soon anyway. Might as well wait until they reached the surface.

He let his head drop back against the seat.

“Scott?” The pod was dangling from an overhang and had stopped moving. Its spots lit up rock inhabited by dangling…things.

He blinked as something flew through the beams.

“Scott? You with me?”

“Huh?”

There was silence a moment, Virgil’s head attempting to turn around and look at him, but failing with an exasperated grunt. “Scott, speak to me.”

“Wh’t do you want me to say?”

His brother grunted and the pod began moving again. This time though, it changed direction and shook harder as if his brother was in a hurry to get somewhere.

Next thing he knew the pod had stopped, the hatch was open, a yellow light was flickering everywhere and a pair of worried brown eyes were glaring at him.

The light vanished, leaving his brother’s helmet lamps to pale him to a ghost creature dressed in deep blue.

“You said you were okay.” It was soft and hurting. The ghost hovering over him just looked sad.

“’M okay.”

“You’re bleeding and suffering from hypothermia. How can you possibly be okay?” It was said quietly, but it cut through him like a knife because with it came disappointment. Virgil turned away and reached for the storage locker below his seat. “I guess I should know better.”

“Virg…” But his brother refused to look at him, even when he folded up the front seat and climbed back in to hunt down exactly where Scott was leaking blood from. Turned out he had cut the back of his leg. Not badly, but bad enough.

The water in his boot was so cold, he hadn’t felt it.

Sure and caring hands removed Scott’s footwear, his helmet, and his baldric was unfastened and tugged off. Virgil, it was Virgil, ever dependable Virgil, was unzipping his uniform, gently pulling him forward and peeling his under shirt off his skin.

He should be helping, but he couldn’t quite pull the energy together.

An emergency blanket appeared and Scott found himself quickly swaddled. A hiss and he was suddenly smelling something warm and chocolatey.

“Scott?”

He discovered his eyes were closed and he forced them open. Virgil was crouched in front of him, holding up a plastic cup of something emanating warmth. He had no hands to take it, but his brother offered it up to him like a baby.

Somewhere in the back of his mind the big brother part of him was outraged and horrified, but he was too busy sipping warmth to care.

A cap was gently tugged onto his head, completely messing up his hair.

Warm fingers brushed the strands out of his eyes.

Virgil was staring at him, so much emotion in that one expression. Exasperation, frustration and worry, but most of all love.

Something inside Scott just melted.

“I’m sorry.” It came out in a rush through a throat that had suddenly grown tight.

Those brown eyes widened and Virgil leant back just a little. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared for a moment before lowering the safety harness over Scott’s shoulders.

“I need to get you back to Two as fast as possible. Gordon has located the two cavers and is making his way to the main cavern. They report no injuries and once orientated will be climbing out themselves.” His brother unfolded his seat and clicked into position before jumping into it. “You’re the only injury.” The canopy hissed shut and the pod started up, its claws immediately grabbing at rock.

Scott swallowed.

He lost some time after that. The next thing he knew he was in daylight and the pod was stomping over level ground only to be engulfed by the green shadow of Two.

The pod came to a halt and the canopy was thrown open. “Hey, Bro, how you feeling?”

He found enough energy to frown. “I’m fine, Gordon.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that too often if I were you.” He lowered his voice and leant in as if conspiring. “Virgil is pissed.”

“Move, Fish.” Gordon disappeared to be replaced by Virgil. His lips were tight as his eyes examined Scott. “You’re going to ride back in the infirmary and you are not going to complain. After that, you have two days off rescues and if you say anything in protest, I’m reinforcing that medical order via Grandma and her latest interest in exotic soup. You will do what you are told and after a health review we will have a discussion regarding operative safety.”

“Virgil, I’m sorry.”

His brother froze.

“I mean it. You were right and I screwed up.”

Another moment of staring. “I need to get you to the infirmary.”

Scott untangled himself from the blanket and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Virgil, I mean it.”

The engineer looked down at Scott’s bare arm and the hair suddenly standing on end the length of it. A gentle hand reached up and moved his arm back under the blanket. “We’ll get you well, first, then we will discuss this.” His brother’s gazed dipped and for a split second a deep sorrow flickered across his expression.

But only briefly. A blink and Virgil was reaching into the pod and lifting the restraints. “C’mon, let’s warm you up and fix the holes you’ve got in you.”

Scott pushed himself to his feet somewhat wobbly. “Holes? I thought I only had the one injury?”

Clambering over the side of the pod, Virgil caught him and eased him to the ground. “That would be too easy. You, my dear brother, are hard work.” He pulled a hoverstretcher close. “Now make it a touch easier by lying down without arguing.”

“I’m fine, I can walk.”

The growl that echoed off the module bulkheads was positively savage.

Okay, perhaps he should let Virgil have this one. He backed up and sat down on the stretcher.

He was forcibly nudged to lie down and his feet lifted up onto the cushioned surface by a smirking Gordon.

As the stretcher was pulled into motion, his medic brother muttered under his breath.

“So much damned hard work.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #earth and sky #nuttyfic reblog

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

The Librarian’s Trick

Day one Ectoberhaunt: Trick or Treat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34213519

Wes was certain this Cassius guy was a ghost. He had to be. Humans didn’t live on the outskirts of town in large decrepit clock towers that Wes was pretty sure didn’t exist last week .

Humans didn’t have red eyes and white hair (unless they had a condition called Albinoism, Wes had looked it up. But Albinoism also meant they had no melanin anywhere and Cassius Dark was decidedly tan in an admittedly attractive but decidedly not Albino kind of way)

Humans didn’t have fangs when they smiled but normal teeth whenever Wes tried to point out that He had FANGS. They were right there!!!

Humans didn’t spend all their time either with Danny Fenton (who was Also very much a ghost!! Which should be in the list of proof but no one believes it so it’s seperate but still!) or mysteriously absent.

And humans didn’t seem to know everything all the time but talk like a bad astrology website.

So Wes was going to find a way to prove it.

His first try had him sneaking a “ghost translator” he didn’t remember the stupid name Fenton’s dad called it when he bought it with his allowance, into the library where Cassius Dark supposedly worked.

Supposedly, because while he could be found there, Wes had never actually seen him doing anything other than reading. And it was never a book Wes recognized, like, he wasn’t reading the Twilight series or anything. The last book Wes saw had been a large ancient looking tome written in a language Wes didn’t recognize. But Everytime he tried (subtly! He was super nonchalant about it!) to take a picture it ended up blurry!! And No Kyle, it wasn’t because he was bad at taking photos .

But that didn’t matter because Wes had a different plan now. He was going to use the Fentons’ new version of their “ghost translator” thing, and see what happened. It was supposed to be both a translator and a truth decoder at the same time. So no matter what a ghost said, the device should say what they actually mean. Or something.

With Danny, a bunch of innocuous stuff went off around him, but people always hand waved it as faulty tech. Wes wasn’t sure that was the case, in fact he was positive it wasn’t. But if he could get something useful to build up from, that would be a good start. And every good reporter needed a start.

He stepped up to the Library’s front desk, where Cassius was sitting reading what was clearly a spell tome if the different summoning pentagrams in the open page Wes could see were anything to go by.

“Welcome Young Weston,” Cassius said, the hint of a smile hidden behind his red eyes as he closed his book. Wes could swear they were glowing slightly. Geez did this guy get his ‘how to pretend to be human’ classes from Fenton ?

… that would certainly explain why no one ever believed Wes, since that was a long beaten dead horse in his closet.

He, very discreetly, had the device hooked up to one of his earphones, which he kept in one of his ears like any normal less than perfectly mannered teenager as he asked Cassius Dark his questions.

“Excuse me sir? Do you work here?” he started with, it was a more or less innocuous question and one he actually wanted the answer to.

Cassius Dark smiled. “I do.”

My Job is all that was, is, and shall be. That which I set as my goal is beyond mortal comprehension and those I call master shall fall to my machinations. But yes, I get paid for sitting at this desk and answering questions sometimes. I am a ghost, fear me.

Wes tried not to sweat too obviously. What the fuck?

“Can you tell me where the journalism section is?” Wes decided to make a tactical retreat, at least his voice didn’t crack.

“Straight back for eight shelves and then turn right. It’s next to the Non-fiction books.”

I know what you’re looking for, I know why you are here. I know the exact time of your death and what will happen next. Your efforts amuse me though. I am a ghost, fear me.

What Wes did next was not exactly fleeing. But it wasn’t not fleeing either.

He’d have to try something else.

The next thing he wanted to try was a bit riskier. If you thought about it a certain way. But it also wasn’t if you thought about it the way Wes did.

He was going to use a phase-proof net.

Genius, because unlike the translator machine thing, it would actually stop the ghost from attacking Wes if it got angered. Which it would, probably, since Wes was throwing a net at it.

The plan was really simple though, he’d gotten a very large net, paid extra for the little aim thing, practiced half a billion times of his brothers before they went to the parents and got him grounded for a week, and then memorized the path Cassius Dark took in the mornings to go to his “job” at the library.

Right now he was hiding in one of the leafier trees, right above the path that Cassius always used, waiting.

And waiting.

And… waiting.

Honestly he was about to go home and was fairly certain this guy was going to be like, super late to work, when he finally appeared.

Wes wasted no time aiming, making sure the trajectory was absolutely perfect, and firing the net off. He was just about to jump in celebration, watching the net as it curled slightly around its target, but before it could hit and wrap around him, Cassius was suddenly not there.

Or he was, but just a little bit to the left, so that the net sailed harmlessly past.

Wes cursed.

The third one was fool proof. It had to be.

Which was why Wes was staring at a large conspiracy board, covered in paparazzi-esque shots of the librarian and random notes he’d taken, all connected with a dizzying amount of red string.

“Kyle, seriously. I need to figure out what kind of ghost he is or he’s always going to have the upper hand!!”

Kyle just rolled his eyes and continued playing his video game, as if he didn’t care that Wes had set up his very important planning and plotting in the middle of the living room so long as it didn’t interfere with his own plans.

“It has to be pretty powerful, he was able to dodge my net before it even touched him. And the translator thing clearly said ‘my goal is beyond comprehension’ or something,” Wes mused, “and he also said his job was like, everything?”

Wes checked his notes, “yeah, ‘all that is was and shall be’. What could he mean by that?”

His very annoying and clearly not taking this as seriously as he should brother just chuckled. “I don’t know Wes, maybe he can see the future?”

That… no. That’s way too OP. Just the thought of it sent a shiver down Wes’ spine. There was no way a ghost could see the future right?

Right?

He had to test this theory.

But how do you even test something like that?

“Kyle, how would you test if someone could see the future?”

“Throw something at the back of their head and see if they dodge?” He answered way too quickly.

Wes thought about it for a moment. “No, what if they just have really good reflexes?”

“Oh huh, I guess that could be true. No idea then.” He shrugged and Wes had to fight the urge to throw something at the back of his head.

Whatever. He had to make plans.

He’d tried just throwing things. It was risky, and kind of terrifying, but Kyle was right it was the first that came to mind.

But Cassius never dodged. He was always just, not where Wes thought he was. Or Wes had really bad aim, which he didn’t!!! He was a basketball ace!! He had great aim! And great situational awareness!!

So why couldn’t he hit Cassius Dark?

Obviously it was because he could see the future. And the smug smile he always had when he knew Wes was looking reminded him an awful lot of a certain other Phantom.

Ask him about his family.

Easy enough. Especially without the Fenton’s weird translator because that might have been a bit terrifying. And also this time he had back up.

He dragged Kyle by his sleeve into the library.

“Mr. Cassius!”

Cassius looked up from his book, removing the delicate reading glasses balanced on his nose. “Can I help you Mr. Weston?”

“Yes!” He smiled broadly, taking out a small notebook that he had used to take notes on the suspicious and ghoulish things going on around town until it was mostly shreds of paper. “I’m writing an OP ED on the town library, and would like to know more about the librarian. Can you answer a few personal questions?”

Kyle snorted and Wes had to elbow him in the side to get him to shut up. He was here as back up, not to ruin his plan.

“So,” he began, “is Cassius a family name?”

“No.”

Wes nodded. And then frowned. Did ghosts have families? Supposedly they were alive once right? At least that was the general idea, Wes thought.

“So what can you tell us about your parents? Like, what’s your father’s name?”

Cassius raised an eyebrow, and had a soft smile filled with good humor. Wes felt it hit him like a threat. What was this ghost hiding?

Well, other than the fact that he’s a ghost.

“I can’t tell you much I’m afraid. My mother is long gone and I never had a father.”

Kyle grimaced and elbowed Wes himself before saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s no matter,” Cassius replied, still smiling, “I may yet see her again.”

Ah, so either she wasn’t dead or he’s convinced she became a ghost too. That made sense. It could be his unfinished business as they say among the paranormal hunters. At least, the not fight-y and crazy ones.

“So Dark was your mother’s name?” Wes asked, wondering if he could maybe find any records on her where he had failed to find them on Cassius himself.

The smile slid right off his face. Wes and Kyle both felt the subtle chill in the air as Cassius leaned back and looked off to the side, as if to glare at something that wasn’t there. “No, I’m afraid Dark is my ex-husband’s name.”

“Why keep it?” Kyle asked, completely ignoring the danger of the situation.

The smile came back, except this time instead of soft and barely there as if he were indulging a child, it was sharp and twisted. He chuckled at an inside joke no one else in the room would ever understand and then he said, “Well, it’s not like he has any use for it now.”

Wes paled. Had he killed his husband?!

After a hasty retreat from the library Wes treated Kyle to a milkshake and fries at the nasty burger just as he had promised. Payment for going along with his ‘weird ghost theories’.

But Wes couldn’t eat, he was too busy thinking. This one actually helped! He found information about the ghost’s previous life! He had a mother, but not a father, and had a husband.

With the current politics it was one of two options. Either he was from a previous culture that allowed men to marry each other, or he was a more recent ghost than Wes had been expecting. He had already taken out his laptop and was scrolling through obituaries with the surname Dark, trying to think if he knew any off the top of his head that might have been in town when they died.

Nothing particular came to mind.

Wes’ thinking was interrupted by a loud, obnoxious slurping noise from his brother. He shot him a glare, but Kyle didn’t react. Wasn’t even looking at him. Instead he was looking out the window and watching one of the daily ghost attacks with Phantom playing hero as always.

“You know, it’s kinda cool that they’re hiring actors to build the town’s lore like that,” he said, clearly ignoring the obvious evidence of ghosts right outside his window.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Wes groaned, rubbing at his eyes. He needed coffee or something, it was a shame the Nasty Burger only served sludge no sane person would drink.

Kyle finally looked away from the window, his eyes wide as if he was the one confused. “You know, how they got the librarian to say he was married to Pariah Dark? And then imply he’s the reason he’s a ghost?”

Wes felt like the seat underneath him had suddenly disappeared. “Where did you get That from?!”

“He said his ex-husband was named Dark! Pariah Dark’s Ghost Zone show is the first thing that comes to mind!” Kyle argued back. “Isn’t it?”

Holy shit this guy was married to the ghost king.

He thought back to the ominous answers he’d gotten that first day from the Fentons’ translator. Maybe he should leave this one alone.

Wes was at the library, studying quietly and absolutely avoiding the librarian. Not that he’d seen him today, but it didn’t hurt to keep his head down. With any luck the guy had a short memory and would forget Wes had been trying to find a way to out him to the town.

A portal ripped from the air in front of him, sending a static energy throughout the library and causing Wes’ hair to stand on end. It was a swirling purple, deeper and more… well more than most of the natural portals that Wes had seen appear around town.

He wanted to scream, but years of living in Amity Park had fully trained that out of him. Screaming was the number one way to get a ghost locked on you as their first target. Especially if you were there when the portal opened.

Before Wes could even think to duck under the table he was using a figure stepped out of the portal, poised and composed. He had a deep purple hood that seemed to swirl with the fabric of galaxies and a large ornate clock embedded into his chest. His skin was a rich blue and he had glowing red eyes.

Wes recognized him immediately.

“Oh, hello Mr. Weston, is there something I can help you with?” Cassius Dark asked.

#Danny Phantom #ectoberhaunt 2021 #clockwork dp #wes weston dp #background dark ages #Bee's writing #fanfiction

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wizkiddx · 4 years

Text

a friendly face

a lil one inspired from seeing the recent interviews abt cherry - yes im a couple days late but am very slow. This is basically stolen and adapted from another of my stories so I don't think there's any bits left over by my dyslexic proof reading isnt that great so apologies!!! very speech heavy so sorry am trying to balance my writing more

Summary: Tom is having a hard time filming Cherry and dealing with the emotional baggage of it, so Harry recruits someone to make everything that little bit better.

tomhollandxreader

fluff and a little angst I guess?

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Harry, Tom and their driver Sian where all sitting in the car having left the set 20 minutes ago, heading back to their accommodation. Or more precisely, Harry and Sian sat in the two front seats- Harry only in the front as to allow Tom to lie down across the three back seats. He was asleep, or at least looked asleep, but Harry knowing his brother so well knew he was just wishing he was. The day had been torturous for Tom, they’d been filming a hospital sequence in which his character was heart broken. The sequence had involved him being thrown onto the floor multiple times, by a heavy handed stunt double who was not nearly as precise as those he’d worked with at ‘marvel’. Furthermore, there was also multiple scenes of him having to properly cry on camera, which although it sounds tame, is one of the hardest things you can ever ask an actor to do. At least, someone who commits half as much as Tom. For him to show that emotion, he had to go back to a place in his life where he didn’t really ever want to venture again. But even then, this character was such a fuck up, he had to do deeper. He felt completely drained, emotionless and cold. But he couldn’t sleep, not for the guilt he felt for being short with everyone on set- he had never been like that before, he just felt like no one was respecting or understanding what he was going through. So instead he just lay on his side, facing the backs of the leather seats, arms folded in stubbornness- even if he had no idea why.

“Tom?…Tom, I know you’re awake… Look, we need to make a quick stop. You gotta come out.” Harry was actually slightly nervous his brother would just point blank refuse, even if he needed this so bad.

“I just need to get back to the apartment. Please Harry. Can’t we do it tommorrow?” The desperation dripping off Tom’s voice actually pained Harry to listen to. He knew Tom was having a crisis about how he treated everyone today, so chose to ignore his please in favour of some assurance.

“You know everyone understands… They just kept asking me if you were alright?” Harry could see the guilt radiating off Tom. It hurt him to see his big brother like this.

“Please… I just need to get back” His small voice barely made it to the front of the car, but Harry heard it all.

“It will take 2 minutes tops, I had a delivery but I need a hand carrying it, come on” Harry spoke as Sian turned on the indicator to pulled up next to the sidewalkpavement; the car slowing to a gentle halt. Tom didn’t reply, instead huffing as he used the head rest of the middle seat to pull himself up. Already out the car, Harry opened the door for him waiting patiently, because Harry knew he would be a hundred times better off in just a few moments.

“What the hell have you even ordered that’s so big?” Tom sighed while ducking through the door into the cold Cleveland air, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as Harry motioned for him to follow his feet.

“Oh um don’t know, a good friend sent it actually” Harry tried to hide the grin that was spread over his face from showing in his voice, as he saw a very familiar head of hair running toward them.

“What friend?” Tom looked up sassily toward Harry, shortly questioning who would send Harry a parcel from England that was too big to be delivered or carried by himself. Only then, nearly 5 metres away from Sian in the car, did Tom look up to see where they were. It wasn’t the nearest post office or delivery warehouse - they were at the airport. “Harry what’s going on?” Tom questioned with a low and warning voice, skipping a step or two in order to catch up with his younger brother.

“We’re collecting her” Harry smiled as he nodded forward. Following his gaze with eyes wide open, Tom turned forward just in time to see Y/h/c flying over his face as he was engulfed by someones arms. Immediately sensing exactly who this was, Tom did not hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist and push his head into your neck. Smelling the familiar perfume, Tom couldn’t help but scoff, allowing a the jerky breath to leave his lungs as you arched away from the hug, cupping Tom’s face with both her hands.

“I’ve been reliably informed you could use a friendly face” you smiled, noticing his raw emotions threatening to overtake him, so swiftly pressing just pressing your lips onto his. Seemingly frightened to move, Tom barely reacted to the kiss, so you pushed and deepened into it a little more- till you felt him relaxing against you. With that, you arched away again and smiled massaging his stubbly hair behind his left ear.

“How are you here?” He croaked staring deeply at her, switching between her left and right eye as if that somehow would confirm that this was real, not some cruel dream he was having.

“Someone somewhere knew you were in need and bought me a plane ticket over… I’m coming home with you on monday” You grinned while watching Tom’s eyes light up, he leaned in again to your lips instead of replying.

“Er-cuh-huh” Harry loudly cleared his throat, causing the two to pull away from each other. “Sorry to interrupt, but Sian isn’t really allowed to stop there long sooo” They both nodded, before Tom lunged at his brother, holding him close and whispering thanks too. It was clear this was at least partly Harry’s doing, and he could never thank his brother enough.

“Umm.. as much as I’m enjoying this brotherly love we really do have to get back in the car” Harry awkwardly spoke as he almost pushed Tom off him.

“Awww my favourite little brother being all mature” You giggled, taking your turn to hug Harry, admittedly a little shorter than Tom’s, but still with lots of gratitude.

“Please get stop loving me and get back into the car!” Harry yelled as he stormed off to Sian, leaving both you and Tom in fits of laughter. Grasping each others hand simultaneously the laughter continued as you followed Harry down the street to the car.

Seeing you standing there; feeling your arms wrapped round his neck ; hearing your oh so sweet voice had Tom feeling…. Feeling lighter. It was as though your mere presence gave him the strength to carry all the things that were previously weighing him down like a truck. What was extraordinary though, was how it wasn’t just psychological. He literally felt his joints feel looser, he felt his body flood with warmth and he felt his heart calming down. When you’d first been getting close to each you’d had rather the opposite effect. Which was surprising because that was at the point Tom had never felt more confident - he had just returned form a avengers press tour, where naturally everyone had just loved him and played up to his every whim. He had legions of girls, some of them drop dead gorgeous where falling at his feet. And yet, when he met you it was as though he was transported back into his incredibly awkward teenage years. It was infuriating, he knew he could act cool and unbothered and smooth however as soon as you stood informant of his it was like his mind melted, filling it with utter gibberish and garble. In fact, he was plainly floored by you - how kind and pure hearted you were, how respectful and how you found hhis jilted flirting adorable and not to forget how drop dead gorgeous you are.

It had taken a while and a hell of a lot of opening up, but over time he found the opposite happening. Your presence became something else entirely, not one that would put him on his toes and have his heart racing - more of a comfort. He slept better when you were beside him, his nerves never got the better of him if you were there to cheer him on. He could relax completely without any fear of judgement, any worry at all with you. What you had done is change the definition of something so fudemental and a given in life. You’d changed home from a place to something much more intangible. A person; a feeling; a connection. You were his home.

“Sian are we close?” You asked, turning your attention away from the two brothers annecdotes from filming, realising Sian must’ve been driving for about 30 minutes.

“Yep just the next right I think” Sian replied gently while turning the wheel as the indicator clicked.

“Where are we going?” Tom asked, looking first at you then pleadingly at Harry- knowing he had more of a chance with his brother.

“Well” You started and he whipped his head back round “I know it’s late and you’ve been working all day, but you have alater 10 o’clock call time tomorrow instead of 6, so this is the best night to do something. We found a driving range-with heaters” which was a very important factor since Cleveland was bloody freezing “- that we thought you’d like to play a game or two?” The massive smile in response meant you’d hit the nail on the head.

“And soz but I’m crashing the game otherwise- and no offence, but you would win waayyyy toooo easy Tom” Harry butted in and sniggered as he interrupted the lovey-dovey stares. You gasped at that in mock offence, holding your hand over your chest.

“Oi you, Paddy has been teaching on the Holland boys days out you both missed- I’ll have you know I now am aware that you have to get the ball into the hole, not a goal as previously thought.”

The boys both groaned in unison and Y/n wiggled her eyebrow grinning, elbowing Tom slightly in the side. “Things might have changed since you left you know?”

Yet another thing Tom loved so completely about you, was how effortlessly you had fitted into his family. Honestly, none of the Hollands could imagine life without you anymore - especially Nikki, who had quite literally attempted adopting you so she officially wasnt the only female in the immediate family. Sam used you as an expert taster for all his marvellous culinary creations (even if your judgement was always the same, it was very good); Dom often ended up picking your brains about your work, he found you ‘actual proper’ job as a doctor simply amazing , where all his family had never been especially acadmeically gifted; and Paddy just plain saw you as his older sister. So it was hardly surprising at all that when two of their actual kids flew across the world , you’d been the obvious placeholder. Yes, golf was most definitely your forte - but you were enthusiastic, with a positive (if flightily misguided) give it a go attitude.

The try-try-and-try-again attitude that never really worked … until Paddy taught you how to hit a clean drive.

“I am not joking, I am asking the lady at the desk there’s no way!”

“Tom you are the worst looser I have ever met! I didn’t cheat, I’ve just taken up a new hobby”

“There is no way Tom… no way she can get that good” Harry huffed as he ran straight past you to catch up with Tom, making sure that you did see the harsh glare he shot him. The outrage that Y/n had beaten them both at the driving range was way worse than anything you could’ve predicted- now you sort of were wishing you’d let them win. Oh wait…. Of course you weren’t - this was priceless. Especially their faces when you’d launched your first ball super accurately inn the centre of the second furthest away target. They had reacted as if you had just stripped butt naked, you thought; standing their jaws hanging with a look of almost fear in their eyes.

“You could see the balls land with your own eyes! Practice makes perfect!”

“Thats not fair though! It took you like 8 weeks to be like that?”

“I mean you were obviously just taught by the wrong Holland, Paddy’s a pretty good teacher!” You smiled as your trio turned the corner and walked through reception, seeing Harry desperate to ask the receptionist but Tom just looking over his shoulder to give a hurt look to at you.

“I’m going to ban you from being closer to my brothers than me”

“I can’t help if he’s cuter then you alright?” You smirked and raised an eyebrow, as Tom stopped in his tracks and turned to face you.

“That’s it… your gonna get it” he spoke in a low voice, with a mischievous look in his eye, abruptly he launched himself at you - barely having time to swerve away from him and start a sprint towards the exit, giggling as you took a glance back to see Tom chasing you out, Harry quickly in tow too.

“Your not allowed to beat me at golf!” In a jokey voice, you heard Tom yell, just as you reached the sleek black 4x4 and hurdling yourself into it.

“I’m in the car it’s a no fight zone!” You cowered in the corner,back pressed up against the opposite door and arms crossed to make an ‘x’ sign in front of her body.

“That is not how it works” Tom and Harry grinned from the open door. As fast as lightning they both vaulted in and started tickling you, making you screech curses at the two of them.

“Alright alright kids, no fighting while I’m driving thats an order.” Sian calmly spoke, trying to hide the laughter from her voice, as the two men retreated and helped to pull you up from the position half on the floor that your squirming had gotten you to.

“Get off my leg Tom… arghhh… thanks Sian, I’m sorry they’re so moody, I just whipped their asses at golf”

“You’re here to make me feel better right? Not doing a good job so far” Tom’s snide remark meant you scrunched up your nose while plugging her seatbelt in, making sure to jab Tom’s side hard as you did so.

“How did I end up sandwiched in between you two twats then?” You grinned from the middle seat as Harry just rolled his eyes looking out the window, and Tom gave you a loving smile- not able to hide his relief of your presence.

“Think it’s about a 40 minute drive you gotta enjoy” Sian smiled looking at you via the rear view mirror, to which Tom couldn’t quite stifle the yawn that escaped.

After all he had done much more than the typical 9-5 hours work, and the golfing was an unexpected addition to the already long day. His excitement and just pure joy at having you here had made him forget about It all for a couple of hours - but now his exhaustion was catching up with him with a vengeance. Instinctively you wrapped you arm round Tom and in doing so pulled him into your side.

“Get some rest huh?” You whispered into his forehead, and all Tom could do was reply with a weary nod, letting his eyes slip close to the constant beat of Ally’s heart. You immediately sensed Tom was properly out of it, and contented yourself looking out his window for a few minutes, before you felt something heavy briefly whack your other shoulder. Jumping a little at the contact, you looked round to see Harry’s head bobbing side to side in a light slumber. In the midst of worry for Tom, you hadn’t realised the kid had been doing the same long hours as him. Plus dealing with Tom and being Tom’s support, which surely took it out of him. Harry had always been ‘the most important brother’ in your eyes. Just because Tom trusts him so implicitly and completely, they had an understanding only real brothers could get to but also extended far beyond blood. When you’d first been introduced Harry had been colder to you. It wasn’t personal though, he just wanted to be sure on you and your intentions with Tom because as he well knew often when people saw Tom they didn’t just see an opportunity for love. It was an opportunity for a lifestyle, for fame, for relevance. Harry took a while before he trusted you but now you were miles and miles beyond that point. So now, being at a stage with Harry where he was phoning you to come and fly out to save Tom (and him too). It was not to be taken lightly. Therefore, you gently pressed your hand to Harrys face and pushed him to lean against her other shoulder too- hoping to cure the dark circles under his eyes a little bit too.

You were quite content for the rest of the journey, feeling warmth radiate through your body as the two men breathed deeply and calmly either side of you. You sort of didn’t want the car journeyer to end - but sure enough it wasn’t long till Sian was pulling into the hotel entrance.

“Get you a girl that can do both, beat yo ass at golf and look after your family” Sian whispered as she handed the phone back to you, after having taken some of your favourite ever photos, the 2 boys asleep on your shoulders while you pulled a variety of different faces. Smiling back at Sian, you then sighed-knowing she had to wake the two up, given their exhaustion you didn’t really want to either.

“Boys…boys… hey let’s get you both into bed yeh?” You spoke softly, gently raising your shoulders in order to disturb them both. Harry’s head immediately shot up, his eyes puffy and half open, but a sheepish look on his face as he realised how he was sleeping. Just responding with a smile that said it was all okay, before you turned her attention to Tom- forever stubborn to wake up, at least nothing had changed there.

“Come on Tom, can’t have you sleeping in the car all night” You pushed again, this time lifting Tom’s head, earning a very deep groan as his eyes slid open and he pushed against the movement. It was at this point Harry slammed the car door shut, making Tom jump out of his skin, you loosing the hope of any serene wakeup call. Rubbing Toms arm, relaxing the tension now present in his body you encouraged him once again. “Come on lets get inside mister”

His hotel room was exactly what you’d expect for an a-lister and lead actor in a million pound film. Large, modern, squeaky clean and posh. It was almost too big to be filled by one person though, Tom had always found it a bit cold and just not cosy - why he opted to spend the majority of his down time either fast alseep or in somebody else’s company. Both of those also stopped him getting too much in his head - or more accurately in his characters head. Cherry was a weird character and from interviewing all the veterans and lengthy discussion of his past, Tom almost felt as if he had in some small way experienced what Cherry had. Felt what Cherry did. Thought like Cherry did.

And that was a sure fire way to fuck yourself up.

Now, with you here in his room haphazardly digging through your case, if felt warmer. The cold but brilliant white lights seemed to have softened to a gently warm glow that bounced off your skin and made your figure look almost angelic to Tom. You were his home.

“What are you waiting for?” You mused while turning away from your (now) inside out suitcase, proudly carrying her pyjamas which you had found hidden at the bottom the whole time- not the most practical packing in the world. All the while Tom sat on his bed, back leaning against the headboard and arm bent behind his head too.

“Just thinking that I need to go through all the scenes for tomorrow” A monotonous tone laced his voice, for he knew he couldn’t spend the night the way he really wanted to, safely wrapped up with you.

“Oh… well let’s go through it together then hey? We will be done in no time; but if you want we can go over them again tomorrow morning.” It was a practical suggestion, a helpful action you could implement - even if you had a feeling Tom wouldn’t just agree. Since his lines clearly weren’t the only thing on his mind this evening.

“Yeh but everyone on set is already sick of me after today… I can’t be being shit as well as horrid” his voice was small as the memory of how he snapped at some of the extras had him cringing inwardly at himself. He shouldn’t have been that rude, shouldn’t have blurted it out, should of offered a solution rather than just critiquing.

“Hey would you kindly shut it? No one is sick of you, everyone is just ready for christmas and missing their families. Now get changed” Your soft tone turning into an imperative order, as you threw his pyjama bottoms at the him, smashing into his face before falling into his lap.

“Oi” he shouted, but followed instructions and stood up reaching round to pull his hoodie off. Stood shirtless, his side was exposed to the now changed you, the sight making you gasp and clamber over the bed to gently touch Tom’s back. You followed the outline of an impressive patch of bruising, stretching from the bottom edge of his shoulder blade all the way to his hip.

“Tom, what the hell happened?” Whispering in fear, Tom turned round to face you, seeing your eyes watering up as you kept glancing at his back. He was littered in a variety of purple, yellow and slightly green marks on the whole of his left flank. It looked like a minor crush injury, not something a pampered actor gets after a day of filming infront of tens of people including an onset medic and health and safety risk assessor.

“What?” Tom asked before turning to the mirror and looking back over his shoulder to see the bruises for himself. He hadn’t expected the ache to look that bad. “oh - I - er… Today the scene, I get smashed to the floor by someone and I kept doing it wrong so we had to do it lots I guess.” He looked away and down at your feet, not being able to meet his girlfriends eyes suddenly. You just nodded, trying to blink back the tears- he had truly been broken by this role both physically and now mentally- he hadn’t even put a stop to the constant and clearly severe pain.

“Put your stuff on” your voice was muted, as you waited for Tom to get prepared. He turned around again and then replaced his trousers and quickly pulled a top on to hide the marks, suddenly embarrassed. In the silence the sound of his clothes dropping to the floor, then of him sitting on the bed again- throwing his legs over so now he mirrored your position - the sounds were pretty defeaning.

“I love you so much….” Barely whispering, you suddenly ripped the duvet out from under you both holding it over you as you swung a leg over Tom so you straddled him, slightly leaning over him and letting the blanket rest on top of your back.In your position you looked down in an almost scary way to his warm brown eyes. Tom swore you were literally reading his thoughts, your intense gaze absolutely crumbling any walls he thought he’d be able to hold up. Pressing a gentle peck to his lips you then whispered onto his lips, letting him feel your words as well as hear them. “ …So that’s why we are going to sleep right now and you can worry about all of that tomorrow”

“Y/n I-“

“Your safe with me.” You were not standing for his nexuses and arguments, as you slid down his body - ending with your head resting on his chest, you legs tangled with his. Once you’re properly rested you’ll learn them ten times faster than what you can now… Before you get ill I am telling you to take a break. I’m not going to let you not. So relax and-….Tom?” Ending with a whisper, you delicately lifted your head off his slowly rising chest to see your broken boyfriend already asleep; lips parted as soft snores crept through the silence. In reality as soon as you’d said that he was safe the exhaustion had completely over taken him. Desperately needing to recharge his batteries, no matter how much he had wanted to stay up and work late it could never really happen - at this point physically impossible.

“Sleep well Tom” she smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek with a sad smile.

///////////////////////////////////////////

The next day rolled around all too quickly, but the morning was much better than any of the past couple of months because you were together. Tom, having had a solid 7 hours of sleep compared to his normal 5, was for once ready for the day. He’d gone through the script with a certain someones help in record time, and now the three were just pulling up at the set.

“You’ve been awful quiet this car ride…” you grinned as she clasped Tom’s hand across the empty seat, making Harry turn around and give you a warning glance. Oops. In a moment where Tom went to the loo at breakfast, Harry had fully disclosed everything that had happened on set yesterday- especially the burst of anger. So naturally, Tom was feeling nervous and scared to face everyone.

“It will be fine I promise… and if not tell them I’m your personal body guard- no one will be rude to you if me and Harry are ready to attack” Tom let out a breathy nervous laugh, only then meeting your eyes.

“ A fly wouldn’t be threatened by you two. Harry would just take a photo while you’d check their pulse or something”

“Errrm” Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he contorted round from the front seat so Tom could see his disapproving look, meanwhile Tom was dodging your affectionate fake-slaps.

“Children we’re here” Sian sighed as she brought the car to a steady halt “and if you could get through the day without killing each other I’d appreciate it, otherwise I’m out of the job”

“Not promising anything when I’ve got these pair to deal with” Tom grinned as he opened the car door, before anyone else could retaliate.You laughed before quickly following suit, joining Tom at the front of the car and interlocking your fingers with Tom’s. Hesitating for a moment Harry took a second before unplugging and leaning for the door handle.

“You see what I mean?” Turning his head to look at Sian “It’s sickening how happy they are.”

“Yeh but your glad about it don’t lie” she grinned, before practically shooing the poor boy out her car.

“But dont tell them!” Shouting in reply, as the car was already pulling out.

Tom’s body seemed to tense more the closer you walked to the crew tent, you could feel the way he squeezed his shoulders back and his jaw tensed and untensed. There was little you could do apart from squeezing his hand that little bit tighter - further reiterating the fact you would always always be in his corner. Perhaps the most telling about Tom’s own character was how truly guilty he felt for the way he was with the crew. Normally, he was one of the most down to earth actors around - no trace of an ego or superiority complex. It didn’t matter if you were a cleaner or head of a multimillion dollar studio, Tom would pay both the same amount of respect. He always out that completely down to his upbringing and mum and dad, but even that was being humble. He was just a good person to the core, no one saw that more than you either. It’s part of love, you see the good and the bad parts of a person and promise to unashamedly love them all.

Just before you both had made it into the main tent, Tom was pulled away. “Oh Tom we wanted to talk to you about yesterday!” The familiar voice of Joe Russo called, as he and Anthony ran up to Tom from his left, giving a little nod of greeting to the actor, before falling in step with him.

“Morning, I-uh I wanted to apologise actually-“Tom was cut off while you hung back off to his right, not wanting to intrude on this conversation.

“No we should. The team were all being slow yesterday, and they were making some hard scenes harder on you. We really appreciate what you are putting yourself through for the sake of the film.”

“But still I acted like a brat and I’m sorry”

“Tom” Anthony spoke up for the first time. He was a man of limited words- but whenever he spoke everyone listened. “ You are one of the best, most-dedicated actors we’ve ever worked with. We’re all overtired, run down and ready for the holidays. You’re missing your family too. It’s already forgotten… So let’s just get on with the movie?” Tom smiled, pressing his lips together to stop their kindness overtaking his emotions. Tom always felt safe with the Russo’s. They’d dealt with him when he really just was a kid actor - overwhelmed and without a clue what was happening. They’d dealt with hiM adjusting to fame and the much bigger part Marvel seemed to want him to play in the future. They trusted him with this, most incredibly complex and also personal film for them. So when they spoke and they said it didn’t matter, Tom was much more likely to agree. Then proceeded the bro-hugs, as the men all showed they were good with each other.

“Well lets make a motherfucking movie!” Tom exclaimed once they broke the hug and the brothers laughed at him. “Oh where-d….” He muttered as he looked round before meeting your eyes, still standing rather awkwardly a couple of meters behind them. “ Joe, Anthony you remember Y/n?” Nodding and smiling the brothers beckoned you over; both greeting you with a warm handshake.

“Good to see you again!” You grinned and the directors responded nodding.

“We didn’t know you were coming! I would’ve made a list of all my doctor question for you.” Joe winked, knowing your pet-peeve was people asking you all their gory body questions as soon as they found out she was a doctor. You didn’t need to know about you dentists acid reflux issue, you didn’t need to know about your granny’s friend’s constipation, and you really really didn’t need to know about an old friends erectile dysfunction.

“Ha ha ha “ You rolled your eyes sarcastically “ and no it was a bit of a spontaneous trip, I just landed last night.” Throughout the whole of the exchange Anthony had taken an aloof stance, just observing you and Tom. Observing the bright smile Tom gave you, even when you were simply making small talk. The way he looked so much healthier, well rested and just happy, in the space of a single evening.

“I’m glad you’re here” Anthony basically interrupted the conversation, addressing you then immediately turning on his heel towards the set.

“Uhh right- get to make up we’ll call a cast meeting in a bit” Joe stammered, giving his brother a funny look before addressing Tom “ and we’ll have to have a proper catch up later.” You nodded in response, as Joe turned and did a half jog to catch up with his brother.

“That was weird!?” You frowned as you looked up at Tom. He explained the encounter in rather simplistic terms.

“That was Anthony.”

The morning was spent with Tom doing what he does best in front of the camera. They were shooting a larger scene for the army section of the movie, with at least 100 actual soldiers as extras, all geared up in full camo outfits. It was impressive, but also gave you a chance to meet Ciara - you’d been dying to meet her since Tom told you what a laugh she was. Fair to say you weren’t disappointed at all, you guys hitting it off instantly and you going as far as giving Ciara some embarrassing Tom stories that she could wind him up with in the future. Of course though, the main attraction was seeing Tom act first hand. Every time it astounded you, even though you knew that face so completely, in all his movies he fully had you believing he was someone else. It was mesmerising and you couldn’t be any prouder.

“You’re amazing! I seriously forgot how good you are!” You ran over as Joe Russo called cut to the end of the morning shoot.

“Well er thanks I guess” Tom furrowed his eyebrows as you wrapped him in a hug. He’d just canned a pretty hard scene and everyone was more than ready for a lunch break. You’s been watching from behind the cameras with Harry the whole time, after Tom gave you permission to sit in his special set chair.

“Seriously I’m very…. “ Her speech broken with an impressive yawn “….very proud of you.” In thanks Tom gave you a kiss first to your nose and then lips.

“I take it someones not adapting to jet lag?” He chuckled as he pulled away and cupped your face in his hands.

“Which I’m totally ashamed about considering I work night shifts… my body clocks supposed to be better than this” Angrily, you vented, frustrated at your own body when all you wanted to do was stays within reaching distance of Tom. Even if Tom had had the best sleep of this whole shoot last night, you’d been to over excited and enthralled just absorbing every little thing about him that you’d missed so much that you’d been wide awake the majority of the night. If you blamed you fatigue on jet lag alone, it would be an impressive lie.

“Go take a nap in my trailer… Harry can you take her?”

“Yes master” Harry bowed down and wobbled his head sarcastically, making you giggle.

“At least this way you get a break from him” You grinned to Tom’s brother, which Harry could only agree with. Giving Tom a parting kiss , you followed Harry away from set. It was at this point that Anthony excused himself from the monitors reviewing the footage, and approached Tom.

“Kid… that was great that scene.”

“Thanks mate, means a lot” Getting his directors approval forever reassured Tom, letting him relax his shoulders a bit as he nodded gratefully to Anthony.

“Well it’s just truth… so your girlfriend, Y/n right?”

“Yeh that’s her” Tom nodded, suddenly a little concerned as to where Anthony was going with this. You had met the Russo’s a number of times, and it never before seemed as though Anthony had an issue with you- at least to Tom’s knowledge.

“Right well um… you know how I don’t really get involved in all this stuff…” Tom nodded, folding his arms apprehensively. “But I just thought I should say that she’s really good for you.” Tom silently breathed a sigh of relief and waited for Anthony to get to the point. “Joe told me you had a rough patch at the beginning of the year so… I don’t know our industry is hard. And harder for you and her in the spotlight… Just seeing you with her today…Don’t be afraid to take the next steps with her…Don’t let her get away.” Tom was stunned to say the least. Anthony is the last person he had ever expected to get relationship advice from.

“I um yeh… I don’t know I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean we’ve been together for 2 and a bit years, well including the break… she means the world to me-“

“Well don’t waste it”

And that was the end of the conversation. Anthony turned to his trailer to get lunch and Tom just stood, replaying the conversation in his head. Weird to say the least.

But it did get the cogs turning. It did get Tom really seriously considering his future. Or rather considering your future together.

And that was for certain. It was you and him, always.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tomholland #Harry Holland #tom holland x y/n

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 3 years

Text

Hey, Little Songbird

Chapter 14 - AO3

Felix didn’t have a lot of reference for akuma attacks. Sure, he caused one (techniqually three) to besmirch Adrien’s name, and had even worked with Hawkmoth, but that doesn’t mean he’s experienced in dealing with the annoyance. Only… it was so much as an annoyance as it was… a threat.

A threat that Marinette had disappeared into without warning or explanation.

It went against all better judgement to go towards the akuma rather than to escape, but that’s what he was doing. Creeping towards an akuma that had every reason—pardon his language—beat the shit out of him. Especially if she discovers that he was the one to frame her. And really, if Marinette was naïve enough to assume Lady Wifi the Third wouldn’t harm her because they were supposedly best friends—

That’s not Lady Wifi.

No, a different akuma stood in the entry hall of the school. Felix hoped for a single second that it wasn’t Cesaire, that someone else at school was having a worse morning, but it was obviously her. Swathed in a purple peacoat, the new akuma pointed a smoking pipe at a frozen passerby, pulling her deerstalker down over her butterfly mask. “Alright, now!” She said in a horribly fake English accent. “Why don’t you tell Detective Ace all of your secrets, eh?”

The frozen students started babbling about how they had been cheating in physics or something, Felix wasn’t paying attention. He was busy creeping away from the akuma. The last thing he needed was someone confirming that he planted the spray paint, or worse, that he stole his ring from his uncle.

No, he’d much rather let the professionals deal with this.

Felix stayed safely hidden in a classroom until a cloud of ladybugs swept across the entire school. He worked his way back the way he came and eventually found Cesaire and Marinette hugging it out.

Cesaire cried into Marinette’s shoulder. “It wasn’t- It wasn’t me, girl, you have to believe me!”

“Shh, Alya, I know, I believe you.”

“I don’t know how it got there, but I—”

“I don’t know either, but it’s not your fault—”

“It was probably planted there,” Felix said. Now was the right time to mend some relationships and break others, a favored pastime of his.

Cesaire sniffed, looking up at him. “P-Planted…?”

“Yes. Clearly someone wanted to ruin your relationship with Marinette… Of perhaps just get you suspended.” They looked shocked. “Oh, don’t give me that look, it’s the obvious conclusion. You became a truth-telling akuma, therefore your goal involved finding the truth. You’d have to be braindead not to figure it out.” Which, admittedly, most of their class seemed to be, but that wasn’t the point. “Either way, it should be easy to argue your way out of a suspension. Just don’t let the principal or teachers bulldoze over you. And you should probably have a parent with you, just in case.”

“But… they won’t believe me. Not if there isn’t any other suspects…”

“Who said there wasn’t?” She didn’t seem to understand and Felix rolled his eyes. “You’re not the only person who has cause to be angry with Marinette, especially after yesterday.”

“Wait… you’re not suggesting Lila was the vandal, are you!?”

“Why do you act like it’s impossible? She failed too.”

“Lila would never do something like that!” Marinette flinched, but Cesaire didn’t notice. “And- And the only reason we even failed is because you two—”

“Had evidence that you stole a fake project? That you turned in work that wasn’t your own? That one of you stole my physical property?” Cesaire winced.

“That’s only because you stole Lila’s notes!”

“Where’s your proof?” She was struck dumb by Marinette’s words. The black-haired girl steeled herself. “You keep asking me for proof of my claims, but what proof do you have?”

“It’s near impossible to prove a negative,” Felix added helpfully. “Besides, aren’t you a reporter? The responsibility of proof lies upon your shoulders, not ours.” Felix loomed over the girl. “You don’t have to take our word for it. But as your akuma clearly displayed, you are an investigator. So stop taking things at face value and investigate.”

Felix dismissed Cesaire in favor of Marinette. “Are you okay? You ran off during the attack.”

“Ah!” Marinette jumped a little. Neither of them paid much attention to Cesaire leaving. “S-Someone had to go alert Ladybug, so I figured… why not, you know?” Her grin was fake, but Felix ignored it. She could keep her secrets.

“Well, it’s good that you’re alright.” Felix couldn’t look at her, his face heating up. “It would be inconvenient if you became injured.”

“Yeah, sure.” Her tone indicated that she clearly didn’t believe him. “Still, I can’t believe Lila would do something like this. It has no benefit for her; she’s not framing me for anything, and it can only alienate Alya, so what happened?”

“Oh.” He had forgotten that Marinette knew nothing of his plan. “Lila isn’t the vandal. I am.”

Marinette froze and stared at him with large, shocked eyes. “What.”

“I vandalized your locker. I am sorry about that, by the way. By the time the idea occurred too me, it was late and I didn’t want to bother you. Don’t worry; I’ll replace any and everything damaged. It’s the least I could do.”

“You—” She was speechless. “I don’t… It’s illegal… I… Why? Why did you do that?”

“I thought it would be a brilliant way to wake Cesaire from her delusions,” he said with a shrug. “I know how much her absence weighs on you. Besides, a reporter would be useful in our crusade against Rossi.”

“I… How…”

“Are you alright? You seem upset.”

“Am I upset?” She raked her fingers through her hair. “Of course I’m upset! Felix, you framed an innocent girl!”

“I’d hardly call Rossi innocent—”

“I meant Alya! This could go on her permanent record, Felix, doesn’t that bother you!?”

“No. She could easily talk her way out of punishment.”

“I just…” She gave him a look he didn’t understand. “I can’t believe you.”

“What’s there to believe? You’re going to get your friend back, isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t justify the fact that you hurt both her and me to get here!”

“Look, I’m sorry you got hurt, but—”

“But you’re not sorry you did it?” She scoffs. “Look Felix, the end result doesn’t mean the path you took to get there was alright.”

“Oh, the old ‘the ends don’t justify the means’ shtick.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course they do. Once Cesaire is your friend again, you’ll understand.” It was for the best after all. Seriously, why couldn’t she understand that he was doing this for her?

She shook her head. “No, Felix. I don’t think I will,” she said before walking away.

Marinette refused to talk to him for the rest of the day as he ignored his confusion as to why.

Taglist: @graduatedmelon @novicevoice @dur55 @kris-pines04 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @moonlightstar64 @bee-a-garbage-shipper @sol-o-shade @kittyotakunoir666 @tinyterror333 @allieoftheenemy @marichat00 @xgxmxtx @two-faced-biatch @feliciakainzofspades @evil-cricket @emilytopaz @spicybelladonna @chocolateherringtacofan @user00000003 @wannajointhecrabcult @happymonster-pants @duquesapincarrasca @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @sxltinette @kittydemon9000 @thetrashypanda423

#hey little songbird #felinette #felix graham de vanily #marinette dupain cheng #ml salt #lila salt #alya sugar #alya cesaire #she's getting redeemed folks!#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic

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kopikokun · 4 years

Text

Beach Day Blues༄ l.dh

↳ Out on a day trip to the beach with your boyfriend and his friends, you’re anticipating a fun time filled with sunny memories and sand filled swimsuits. What you’re not expecting is the cold shoulder from your usually happy-go-lucky boyfriend, but you’re going to get to the root of this issue, even if it’ll kill you.

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader ft. yuta, mark & jaehyun

content: fluff, beach day, reverse comfort fic, jealousy fic, very mildly suggestive ending

word count: 2053 words

Request 36: Haechan + “I need a hug.” (42) + “You’re cute when you’re angry.” (47) + “You own my heart.” (59) + Jealousy

← BACK TO NAVI.

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

Perhaps you’re being delusional. Perhaps you’re just dehydrated or, maybe, you rationalise, the scalding rays of the evening Sun have burned not only your skin but your brain cells too (if there were any to begin with). Maybe all of this is just in your head and you’re overthinking it.

“Hey,” someone hisses, “is it just me or is Donghyuck giving you the cold shoulder?”

At the question, or rather observation, your head swivels an almost sharp 90 degrees to stare Yuta straight in the eyes. “So, it wasn’t just me thinking that!”

Yuta chuckles. “Yeah, he definitely seems off…” He peers at Donghyuck discreetly from beneath his sunglasses before turning back towards you. “Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

“A fight? No way!” You pause, suddenly doubting yourself. “At least, I don’t think so…”

Though you’re confident in your verdict of innocence regarding a fight, Yuta’s question prompts you to briefly run through the events of the day. To preface things, you, your boyfriend, Donghyuck, and a few of your friends—namely, Yuta, Jaehyun and Mark—had decided around half a month ago to clear up one day in advance for a ‘beach day’ this week. The idea had sprung after someone had brought up how nice and sunny the weather had been lately, and everyone just unanimously came to the conclusion that sunny weather equals beach day.

You had begun packing for this trip a few days ahead to the surprise of everyone including yourself, which is a testament to your overwhelming excitement, because you rarely--if ever--pack that early for just a single day trip. But who can blame you? This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck. No, you should rephrase that. This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck as your boyfriend. You’ve been on plenty of trips before when you two were just ‘friends’, but now--and maybe this is the romanticist in you which you’ve successfully kept stored away up until recently speaking--it just feels different. You’re sure someone out there can relate, because you’ve never been one to obsess over something as feeble as a label, yet this trip has had your stomach in knots for ages.

The packing process had gone smoothly--neither you nor Donghyuck had forgotten anything--and so had the car ride over. As far as you can recall, your day at the beach so far has gone without a hitch too. You’d had a little picnic, dipped in the oddly warm sea, played some beach volleyball (badly) and gotten some icecream afterward. No fights, no issues, no nothing.

Maybe, you think, he found out I was involved in that little switch up with the sea water. You don’t entertain the idea for too long though immediately casting it away, because you know Donghyuck would never be the type to get so upset over a prank.

So, why the attitude?

You gaze at Donghyuck’s back, hoping that this mystery might just unravel itself if you stare long enough.

“Huh…” Yuta’s voice tears you from your zealous staring competition with Donghyuck’s shoulders. “Then I wonder what’s up…”

You sigh. You know you should confront him and have a mature conversation about what’s bothering him, but that’s so much easier said than done. Maybe this is God’s way of punishing you for ridiculing all those scenes in cheesy teen flicks where the couple would experience a major fall-out because of poor communication. During said scenes, you’d be pulling your hair out, internally screaming at the couple to just freaking talk already, yet now that you’ve been presented this obstacle for you to overcome yourself, you’re erring on the side of caution.

Come on, you reason, I’ve been friends with Donghyuck for over half-a-decade and we’ve gotten into our fair share of arguments during those five years. What’s so different about now?

Yeah, you’re right. You find yourself agreeing with your own thoughts, physically nodding along like you’re speaking to someone. Yuta raises a concerned eyebrow at you. Nothing’s different compared to then. You’re doing it again. He’s just my boyfriend, and that’s just a label. Stop. Obsessing. Over. Labels.

Admittedly, it’s a bit embarrassing having to psyche yourself up to do this, but that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that little pep-talk, no matter how laughable it sounded, has gotten you to stand and saunter to Donghyuck with utmost confidence. In hindsight, you should’ve said something to Yuta beforehand instead of just springing from your seat and marching away. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind though, as it was obviously preoccupied with something arguably much more important than giving him the luxury of context.

You decide not to be too transparent about your feelings at first as you take a seat beside Donghyuck on the sand, leaning your head on his shoulder, hoping that all of this was really just your imagination getting the best of you. You silently plead that he’ll perhaps treat you like he normally would, giving you a little peck on the cheek or at least wrapping his arm around your waist. Unfortunately, your hopes are smothered just as quickly as they arise because Donghyuck doesn’t even bat an eye at you, continuing to chat with Jaehyun and flat-out ignoring your presence. Still optimistic for a reaction, you leave a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder, just to let him know that “Hey, I’m here!”, but to no avail. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t even flinch. All he does is drone on to Jaehyun about something you couldn’t care less about.

You huff. Audibly. A last ditch effort in vying for Donghyuck’s attention. It goes just as well as your previous attempts. You cross your arms, glaring at the side of Donghyuck’s stubborn little head, hoping to bore a deep hole through his brain. Maybe then he’ll finally take notice of you. Sensing the undeniable tensity in the air, Jaehyun clears his throat awkwardly, offering Donghyuck some lame excuse about needing to take a piss, before shuffling away. Well, at least someone knows how to take a hint.

With Jaehyun’s departure, you’re left alone with Donghyuck. Usually, he’d be leaping to drown you in affection the second you two had privacy--or even if you two didn’t, to be frank--but all he does now is fiddle with the strings of his swimming shorts absentmindedly.

“What’s wrong, Hyuck?” you finally ask, desperate to break this frustratingly suffocating silence. “Is something wrong?”

Finally, after what seems like centuries, Donghyuck acknowledges your existence, though the look he gives you is not a pleasant one. In fact, it’s one of agitation. His tongue prods at his inner cheek before he says, tone bitter, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Evidently taken aback, you crease your eyebrows at him. “I… Did I do something wrong, babe?”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs, scornful amusement overtaking his normally amiable features. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. You can just come out and say it.”

“Say what, Hyuck?”

“How much more you’re into Mark than into me,” Donghyuck says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You can’t help but laugh, simply bewildered as to how on Earth he came to this conclusion. “I’m into who now?”

“Mark,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “don’t have to pretend like you’re surprised.”

“I’m not into--” you sigh, a smile of disbelief tugging at your lips. “Okay, tell me why you think I’m into Mark.”

“I don’t think. I know,” Donghyuck argues and you scoff, “but it’s obvious. And I have proof. Take when we were playing volleyball for instance. The whole time, you kept eyeing Mark up and laughing at his jokes. All of them. Even the weird ones that nobody gets.”

You snort. “Baby… I wasn’t ‘eyeing Mark up’, I was watching him just in case he missed the ball. And about the joke thing, to his credit, some of them were actually pretty funny! But, as for the the rest--and don’t tell Mark I said this--I felt kinda bad nobody else laughed at them, so I just laughed along with him. Trust me, I’ve been in his shoes before and it sucks. Not all of us are born as naturally as funny as you, Hyuck.” You’re a little remorseful that you’re essentially dissing Mark, but you’re sure he’d understand. Your relationship’s on the line here.

Donghyuck harrumphs, but you can tell by the slight quirk of his lip that he’s a little tickled by you poking fun at Mark and he’s totally been swayed by your compliment.

“Okay, fine that explains that, but how about when we went swimming just now? Why did you and Mark keep exchanging funny looks?”

“That?” You giggle. “You know how your drink was mysteriously replaced by seawater?”

“Yeah,” he trails off, his suspicion growing by the second.

“Who do you think that was?”

Donghyuck groans. “Wait, that was you? Seriously? That was mean, babe.”

“Aww, I know, Hyuck. I’m sorry,” you coo. Your hand inches its way closer to his as you attempt to intertwine your fingers together.

Donghyuck rejects your endeavour of fondness. “Nu-uh, no way. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh my God, Hyuck, there’s more?” you complain, though there’s a tint of amusement in your voice.

“Yes, there’s more, and you won’t be able to worm your way out of this one either,” he says smugly, as if it’d be a good thing if you in fact, couldn’t worm your way out of his next accusation. “How about when we went to get ice cream and you kept sliding up next to him?”

You pout. “I just wanted to try the watermelon popsicle he got.”

Donghyuck blinks at you, his once irritated expression dissolving. He seems dumbfounded as you hold his gaze, your mirthful smile never faltering. He turns away from you. “Oh, well… then whatever. I guess you aren’t into Mark.”

“Hyuck,” you say, hand crawling up his arm, “were you jealous?”

“Well, yeah, obviously,” he deadpans, still refusing to meet your gaze.

You giggle. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

His cold facade is immediately abandoned at your teasing intonation, and just like that, your cheery Hyuck is back. “Baby,” he whines, readjusting himself so he’s facing you head-on, “don’t tease me. I couldn’t help but be jealous, you know?”

“And why is that?”

Donghyuck purses his lips. “Why? What do you mean why?” He gestures up and down, eyes sweeping over you. “Look how pretty you are! What am I supposed to do when you look this good all the time? It’s unfair, really, that you’re this pretty.”

A blistering heat, one that is much hotter than the Sun, gathers in your cheeks. “Oh really now, Hyuck?”

“Yes, really,” he says, genuity seeping into his every word. “Literally, everyday I’m surprised you’re even real.” You grin bashfully and Donghyuck pounds his fist to his chest dramatically like he’s been shot. “See! You’re only smiling and I’m already having heart palpitations at just twenty years old.”

“Okay, okay, Hyuck. You can stop hyping me up now,” you chuckle. You’re beyond glad that your boyfriend has returned to his spirited self, but you know you should address what just happened seriously, just in case. “But hey, I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Looking back, it definitely could’ve been misinterpreted as flirting and I would never want you to have any reason to feel insecure about our relationship because you own my heart, Hyuck.”

“Aw, babe, you can be really cheesy when you want to be,” says Donghyuck, pinching your cheeks. He plays what you said off casually, but you know that deep down, it resonates with him, and he honestly appreciates your sincerity. “Come here, I need a hug.”

“Right now? There are people around, Hyuck.”

“But you look so good right now. I can’t resist.”

“I don’t know, Hyuck…” You smile demurely.

“Alright, then what about,” Donghyuck reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear, whispering, “we ditch the beach day and go cuddle in the car? My skin’s burning, anyway.”

You grin. “They’re gonna notice that we went missing, you know?”

“So?” Donghyuck challenges, leaning in to place a short but telling kiss on the juncture which connects your ear and your jaw. “Even better. I want them to know.”

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onetwothreefarkle · 3 years

Text

you said forever (now I drive alone past your street)

So this is just...very angsty and I wrote it late at night. As the title suggests it’s inspired by drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo

Summary: He’s already shed too many tears for Carlos.

Seb ends up on Carlos’s street almost by accident. He’s not thinking about where he’s going until he’s in front of the big, somewhat ostentatious abode that the Rodriguezes used to call home. His chest aches as he drives past, memories flooding his mind.

“I only have my driver’s license for tractors.”

“What are you going to do when you get your real driver’s license?”

Seb grinned. “Drive to your house instead of taking the bus, obviously.”

Carlos laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Can’t wait.”

Seb drives around the block again. He’s not going to cry, he thinks. He’s already shed too many tears for Carlos. He sniffs, gripping the steering wheel tightly. It’s been six months since Carlos left and took Seb’s heart with him. Maybe Seb should be over it by now. Kourtney seems to think so, at least. But Seb’s not sure. Carlos was his first love, and isn’t first love forever?

No matter if it’s healthy or normal, he knows a part of him is going to be in love with Carlos until the day he dies. No matter how far away Carlos is now. No matter how long it’s been. Carlos is etched onto his bones, and he’s known it for the past nine months. Ever since Carlos put an expiration date on their love.

“I’m moving,” Carlos said, as they walked up the street towards his house, hand in hand.

“Moving?” Seb’s stomach dropped. “Like—to a new house like Ricky did?”

“To Europe.” Carlos’s voice was barely a whisper.

“E-Europe?” Seb choked out, now frozen in place, already feeling his chest constricting.

“My parents want to expand their company internationally,” Carlos continued. “We’re leaving after Christmas.”

“Carlos, I…” Seb didn’t know what to say. How could he? He’d never had a boyfriend move away before.

“I know.” Carlos put his hand over Seb’s and squeezed gently. “Let’s just enjoy the time we have left.”

Seb parks in front of Carlos’s house just as he feels himself break. Hot tears roll down his cheeks as he rests his forehead against the steering wheel and lets his shoulders heave with sobs. God, he’s pathetic. He should listen to Kourtney and just move on. Carlos clearly has. Seb was stupid to think otherwise, to think that Carlos truly meant the beautiful words he’d sung that night sophomore year.

Seb hadn’t been enough, in the end. Carlos’s social media is proof enough of that, or at least it was. Admittedly, he hasn’t checked Carlos’s Instagram page in two months. It wasn’t doing anything but making him bitter. Because as many tears as Seb shed for Carlos, the other boy seemed totally fine. His Instagram was full of smiles and exciting places and people, because of course it was. Seb knew the minute Carlos told him he was leaving that Carlos was going to forget about him. After all, he’s just a kid from a farm on the outskirts of Salt Lake.

That’s why he had to let Carlos go

“I don’t want you to leave,” Seb told him.“I’m going to miss you so much.” They were sitting in the barn, wrapped up in each other’s arms, keeping warm in the cold December air.

“Not half as much as I’m going to miss you,” Carlos responded, voice dull and sad.

“The time zone thing is going to be so hard,” Seb continued. “But we can make it work, right?”

“About that,” Carlos pulled away slightly. “I don’t know how to say it.”

Seb gave his hand a squeeze. “Just say it.”

“I don’t want to do long distance.”

Seb froze. “What, uh, what do you mean?”

“I mean, long distance is so hard a-and what if we mess it up?” Carlos shook his head, tears pooling under his glasses. “I don’t want us to start resenting each other. I can’t lose what we have.”

“You don’t think we can do it?” Seb found himself crying, too. “You don’t believe in us?”

“I…” Carlos wiped at his tears. “I don’t know.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I love you so much, Seb,” Carlos sniffed. “And I know you love me. I just…I don’t know if we will after so much time apart. We’re going to grow in different directions and isn’t it better to save ourselves a messy breakup later? Isn’t it better to keep what we have good and unbroken?”

Seb didn’t say anything for a minute. He thought about Carlos traveling around Europe and meeting all kinds of exciting people, while he was left behind in Salt Lake. And he didn’t put up a fight. “Okay.” He finally said.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I really do love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They held each other for a long time that night, kissed each other desperately. Seb had long since memorized the touch of Carlos’s hands and the taste of his lips, but that night he memorized them again.

Seb wipes his eyes and attempts to pull himself together. He still has to drive home, after all. He spares one last glance towards the west side of the house. There’s still a trellis up against the wall, right under one of the windows. Seb used to climb up that trellis and sneak into Carlos’s bedroom at night, or really anytime he didn’t want his parents to know he had a boy in his room. Kourtney called them Romeo & Romeo when she found out about it.

Seb’s chest aches for those days, when everything was simple and easy and he was stupid enough to think they would be together forever. He wishes he could turn back time, if only for a moment, just to feel that happy again. His phone chimes with a text alert. Most likely his mother, asking him to come home.

He takes a deep breath, wipes the last of his tears, and starts the car.

#HSMTMTS #seblos #seblos fic #seblos drabble #Seb Matthew-Smith #Carlos Rodriguez #read this if you want to be sad #my fan fiction

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

re: the game.......it's supposed to be 100% canon (according to miles in part of the stream) and it's set during v7 which is why they intentionally had that timeskip montage to leave room for the events of the game. and miles made a pithy 'before you ask why they didn't talk about it in the show, there's only so much we can do lol we're trying our best' response to what is sure to be criticism the game will draw if something significant happens that we are left wonder why tf none of them ever mentioned anything (especially if they already have plans for the game when they were writing v7)

im already tired

I was admittedly dismissive of the game the other day, mostly because writing up a response to the teaser took a bit of time and when nothing in the game trailer grabbed me I was just like, "Eh, boring." Going back and giving it another go though I'm... mostly confused? First of all, why do we need to essentially skip things in the primary narrative to make room for the game's story? We've spoken ad nauseam about RWBY's tendency to put critical information in its supplementary texts and it's looking as if Arrowfell might be the next on an ever growing list. Why not just do an AU-ish RWBY with a self-contained story? Or rehash the webseries plot with gameplay elements? A lot of us thought Volumes 7-8 were missing crucial character work and if that ends up in the game rather than the show... well, as said, that's an ongoing problem. This approach of, 'We needed to save this for the game and then didn't have time to reference it in the show, sorry' remains incredibly strange to me. Your show is your foundational text! That should always take priority.

Second, am I the only one who finds it strange that we're getting this material immediately post-Ironwood's downfall? Not that RWBY can't ever return to villainous/dead characters, Roman is recent proof of that, though Roman also has a good five years between his exit and this new book. In contrast, we just watched Ironwood turn into someone willing to bomb his own city. He just died a pointless death as his entire Kingdom sunk. We just had the drama surrounding that paid message and the subtle implication that it's weird to care about him as a character, outside of hating him as a villain. Yet now, coming right on the heels of all that, we've got like... super peppy Ruby excitedly following Ironwood's orders?

The timing feels strange to me and even if I'd personally been happy with Ironwood's arc, I'd still be unsure of how to approach this. Again, if it was a self-contained story involving a whole bunch of RWBY characters, regardless of their status in the show — just like Chibi does — then good, great, I understand how we're approaching this. But canonical material of Volume 7, provided via the game as opposed to the show? Am I supposed to just turn off my brain and enjoy the side-scrolling hack-and-slash, putting the concept of canon aside? Read this with an element of tragedy as they do fun side-missions, ignorant of what's to come? Like yeah, it really doesn't need to be that #deep, but just from a storytelling perspective it's strange to get this after we've seen these relationships destroyed.

Finally, but very much going off of the above... why does the group start out fighting mechs? The gameplay and dialogue revolves around grimm attacks, but the opening is Team RWBY being super serious against Ironwood's army, their presumed allies at this point in time.

So what, is it another hack? Is the game going to explore them turning against Ironwood in a manner that retcons the end of Volume 7? Is this a meaningless opening just there for the drama? If so, why not just make all those goons grimm...

As said, the trailer mostly confuses me. I mean, the combat looks decent so far (from what little we can see), the characters are recognizable yet stylized, there's clearly some RPG elements in the form of a plot... I just don't know how to approach this as a piece of the larger RWBY puzzle. Making it "100% canon," rather than a stand-alone RWBY title feels like a mistake, one that keeps cropping up.

#rwby #mymetas #rwde

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

Note

I completely agree with your post about Tom. People’s entitlement over their favourite celebrities goes to far. And tbh I really hate when fans act like they know for sure how he feels and what he’s thinking based on very ambiguous “evidence”. This is usually done so people can align Tom’s views with their own which requires most of the time someone else to be villanised. What I mean is that fans have no actual proof that the writers, producers and director of Loki are bad people and that Tom is unhappy with the directions the show took. There is usually nothing to be inferred about who these people are beyond their merits as professionals. But fans present their assumptions as facts anyway and that has evolved into actual harassment of the production team. All the while piggybacking on this idea that Tom thinks exactly what like them. And I am saying this as someone who hated TR and thinks Loki was deliberately made weaker/less important so Thor could shine more. And someone who hates pretty much all of Mike Waldron’s previous work on Rick and Morty. But is still feels very presumptuous to act like these people deliberate compromised the their own work because they hate Loki and his fans. And that they are filled with every prejudice know to man. And it’s also very demeaning to victimise Tom in the process. Of course some of the people involved suck but most of the time these assumptions have no basis whatsoever. And there is also an over-identification going on between some fans and Tom which isn’t healthy for anybody.

Sorry it took me several days to get to this, anon. It took me a minute to get my thoughts in order. But in a nutshell, yeah, I agree with a lot of the things you pointed out here - especially with fans acting like they know for a fact what he's thinking or feeling.

Under the cut for length and a bit of wank and disagreement w/ the "Marvel hates Loki" discourse so please skip if you don't want to see it.

A lot of the Loki series wank is rooted in whether or not Tom actually likes the series and significantly contributed to it, or if he's just saying what he has to say for publicity and his ideas and contributions were largely ignored. None of us will ever know for sure, bc none of us are Tom and none of us were directly involved in the series, so it's moot speculation, really. But it seems to basically come down to people trying to reconcile their feelings about the show with their feelings about Tom.

I don't necessarily think there's anything wrong with believing that Tom's hands were tied to an extent and/or he just says things that he has to for promotion, but I also don't think that it should be treated as fact and then used as, like, ammunition against other people working on the show. I personally have not seen anyone I know or am friendly with taking their complaints to the level of harassment of actual people irl (that seems to be more of a twitter thing, as far as I can tell, and imo comes from an entirely different place than just hating the show [I think there's an inherent meanness in people whose instincts are to harass and bully bc they want to actively make others feel like shit]) but I do see it posted as fact, time and time again, that the showrunners had a personal vendetta against Loki and were intent on making the series as bad as possible, and that Tom was helpless to do anything about it.

Which I get, in a way, bc I personally believe that the Russos had, if not a vendetta, an active dislike of Loki and a vested interest in getting him "out of the way" in a manner that would make him look pathetic in IW - but, I certainly can't say that's the case for sure, and I also think it's a little different bc Tom's contractual obligations for his film appearances were likely very different than what he (and/or his people) negotiated for the show.

That's neither here nor there but my point is, I can understand where the theories come from but I just don't think that's the case here, and seeing it so often makes me feel kinda uncomfortable (for a lot of reasons but also) bc, imo, it undermines Tom's autonomy for fans to act as if he's little more than a puppet on a string, just saying whatever he has to say to please the powers that be. Like, yes, there are legally binding contracts that probably limit how candid he can be, and we all know that he sugarcoats things and never says anything bad about anyone, which can make him seem like a bit of an "unreliable narrator" when he gushes about the show -

- but, he's also a big name celeb (I mean, the studio has always banked on his name being attached to the project bc he's the one who would draw in the most viewers). He's got clout (is that the right word?) to back him up - they wanted him, specifically, to play Loki in this series. Without Tom, there's no show. So why would they want to alienate him, silence him, or dismiss him when he comes to the table and says "here are my ideas"?

My point is, it's unfair and, yes, demeaning to act as if Tom is this voiceless, powerless victim who has no choice but to act in a series he hated that was purposefully trying to destroy his character, and then to turn around and mindlessly sing its praises while promoting it.

I think that the truth is somewhere in the middle - Tom's creative control was likely limited bc he wasn't the director and wasn't the showrunner or head writer, and no one person is ever completely in control when it comes to the end result that we, the audience, end up seeing on the screen anyway. He may not have been entirely happy with every writing or directing choice that was made. But it's also very unlikely that he had no say at all or that any input he had was dismissed (or 95% of it, as it were); again, the series is banking on his name being the draw and he has the advantage of being an authority on Loki while also being intelligent and eloquent enough to convey his perspective on the character. I think that the real issue is that Tom's current perspective and/or interpretation of Loki no longer aligns with his interpretation of OG Loki from 2011-13. Which is, admittedly, a very hard pill to swallow.

Anyway, this may have veered off in another direction and idek if you wanted this answered or to have a conversation or maybe you were just venting - but, here we are.

To make it less about Loki specifically and more about Tom in general, though, yeah, ultimately I just wish his fans wouldn't feel so entitled toward him and his opinions, or his career choices, or his love life, or his clothes. I was browsing one of the Tom ask blogs (or maybe it was a Zawe one, I don't remember now) the other day and I find it really creepy, for lack of a better word, at how invested people are in Tom's, like, day-to-day whereabouts. Someone saw him at a restaurant in NYC - I wonder if he's still there today? Where's he staying? Is he there as a tourist or for work reasons? Who could he be meeting with in New York? A producer? Another play? Will he host SNL? Is Zawe still with him or did she go back to London? etc etc like, it really goes back to my original point in my original post which is, basically, who caaaaaaaares, why are you investing so much of your day trying to figure out what Tom is doing with his?

Now I'm just venting, but yeah ... shit's weird.

#asks #a nonny mouse #charlotte replies #tom hiddleston is my favorite unicorn #disclaimer - i know a lot of my mutuals feel this way about tom and my disagreement with those takes is not meant as a personal attack #but again if my opinions hurt your feelings or make you feel like you can't trust me #please just unfollow so i don't have to keep feeling the need to apologize all over the place #for shit i post on my own blog #long post

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bffsoobin · 4 years

Text

Love Love

↳beomgyu could be a tough puzzle to solve. You knew that. You knew everything about him. That’s what best friends are for, after all. But why is he so upset over your date with Taehyun?

➤ best friends to lovers, highschool au, fluff, a little bit of angst (jealousy)

Requested?: yes

Word Count: 3,779

A/N: I attempted humor here, hopefully that translated? Also I hope the turning point is good enough shdksnoeun. I rewrote it a lot to try and fit what the request asked for. As always, heed the general warning that I haven’t proof read or edited this. Also I’m tagging the biggest Beomgyu stan I know, the lovely @star-daegyu as they requested!💕

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“What?” Beomgyu sounded scandalized as you shut the door to your locker.

“You heard me! Don’t make me say it again,” you clutched at the chemistry textbook cradled in your arms. Beomgyu stared down at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen since Mr.Jackson showed a documentary about how climate change was fake. You started walking away but he came with you in perfect lockstep.

“No, say it again. I’m trying to see if my neurons misfired or if you actually just told me that-” he gagged dramatically as the two of you rounded the corner into a different hallway.

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” You grumbled cynically.

“Remind me why you won’t repeat what you just told me at your locker?” Beomgyu wrapped his hands around the straps of his bookbag and stared at you indignantly. Your sneakers squeaked against the tile flooring of your classroom as you entered with Beomgyu in tow. The two of you were always the first students in class after your lunch period and today you had even beaten the teacher. Beomgyu looked around at the empty room and gestured around with his arms spread wide.

“Last chance to tell me before this room starts filling up with our drama hungry classmates!” Before you had thought he was just teasing you to get a rise, but now you could sense an undercurrent of something odd. Jealousy?

“Fine,” you grumbled halfheartedly. “Taehyun asked me out.” You knew that your skin was flushed red as a side effect of the confession. Beomgyu nodded tightly before taking a dramatic lap around the classroom. Once he was back by your side, he plopped down in his desk next to you.

“And you said yes?” He had finally lowered his voice as a throng of classmates filtered through the door. Your heart beat kicked up a notch as you tried to pick apart his tone. You couldn’t help but feel an odd pang in your chest at the idea that he might be jealous that someone else got to you first. You dismissed that quickly; as there was no way you would let yourself fall back into that pining when Taehyun was right in front of you and willing to give you romantic attention.

“Of course I said yes, you know I have a crush on him! Why are you being so weird about this?” you hissed underneath your breath as the room filled steadily with even more post-lunch chatter. Beomgyu’s lips were pulled in an unsettling straight line as he simply nodded at your words. A knot twisted up in your stomach at the thought of your bestfriend being angry over something he knew you were excited about. As your teacher began to talk, the only thing you could focus on was Beomgyu. He was sitting oddly still, carefully angling his body away from you so much that you couldn’t even attempt to read the expression on his face. Of course you were worried; but more than anything you were annoyed as hell. You were used to his dramatics and occasional fits, but this sudden change to childish behavior was totally new and frankly unwarranted. If it weren’t for Mrs. Nielsen’s strict note taking policy you would have put much more effort into telling Beomgyu off during the class period.

The class period passed quickly although the cramp in your hand would surely stick around to be sure you wouldn’t forget about all of the chemistry notes you had taken. Beomgyu remained elusive as the two of you packed up and your pride kept you from asking him if he was okay. He made sure that you couldn’t catch a glimpse of more than just his clothed back as he slung his bookbag back on. Without a word, Beomgyu stood and breezed out of the classroom door. You left the room without him by your side for the first time since you became friends in the 8th grade. A pang of sadness shot through your heart at the realization that you must have done something to really upset him. What had you done to upset him so much that he wouldn’t even say goodbye to you?

Beomgyu wasn’t in your next class with you, but it didn’t stop you from letting thoughts of him totally occupy your mind. It was a twisted type of torture, really, to try and pick apart any of the reasons he would have reacted so horribly to what you saw as a happy moment. You never wanted Beomgyu to be angry with you, and quite frankly you couldn’t even think of the last time the two of you had had a serious fight. Sure, there had been small quarrels over what movie to watch or who got a homework question right, but never anything like this. He’s friends with Taehyun. He was even the one to introduce the two of you at a bonfire over the summer. Was he worried that your new relationship would put a wedge between the two of you? Certainly you could conceptualize that he was worried about having to pick sides after a fight or breakup.

In favor of actually processing some of what your math teacher was currently sprawling on the whiteboard, you decided that you had cracked the code of Beomgyu’s anger. You would confront him on the drive home as soon as the class ended. You would make things right.

As the final bell of the day rang, you rushed to the only working vending machine on the floor and bought a bag of Beomgyu’s favorite candy to use as a peace offering. As you waited in front of the library- as per your daily routine- your heart jumped in your throat at the thought that Beomgyu might not meet up with you. He could very easily charm his way into getting a ride from one of your many classmates just to avoid you some more. The thought brought you to the verge of tears. You couldn’t imagine your life without Beomgyu as your best friend and absolute rock. There was no way you could even deal with him being angry at you when you were ready to apologize. The lump in your throat only widened the longer you waited, shifting from foot to foot as students milled out of the building. You considered texting him but knowing how lazy he could be about answering had you abandoning the idea just as fast.

Finally, you spotted Beomgyu as he breezed through a group of freshmen girls who gawked at him as he passed through. He looked a bit panicked as he approached you, eyes roaming all around the area until he finally spotted you and rushed over.

“Y/N!” He sounded a bit out of breath, which surprised you. “I was worried you were going to leave without me.”

“Of course not, Gyu. I was worried you would pawn someone else into driving you home. I really want to talk to you about earlier,” you paused for a second as the two of you began walking towards the exit. “I got you these, though,” you offered him the bright yellow bag and without even looking his way you could see the smile on his face.

“Do we really have to talk about earlier?” Beomgyu asked through a mouthful of candy. You unlocked your car and threw your backpack into the back seat as he climbed into the passenger seat as if he owned it. Which you guessed he technically did. You fixed him with a glare you knew read as one of annoyance. “I’m over it, I promise,” he pouted, jutting out his bottom lip in a way that would usually make you break. But not today. This was important.

“Yes, we really have to talk about earlier,” you closed the driver’s side door and buckled up as Beomgyu reluctantly clicked his own seat belt into place. With the car in motion, you were grateful for having a valid reason you couldn’t look at him just to see more of his pouting expressions. The radio played a pop song you had heard dozens of times but you and Beomgyu sang along anyway. Admittedly, neither of you were too excited to breach the subject at hand so the distraction was more than welcome. The short ride from the school to your neighborhood was usually seen as a blessing, but not with the looming conversation you were suddenly faced with.

“Okay. This is awkward. I’m gonna go,” Beomgyu chirped, leaning down to scoop up his bookbag from the floor of the car. As soon as his hand grasped the handle of the door, you pressed the lock button. He scoffed. “You can’t be serious, Y/N. Locking me in the car?” You expected him to be pouting, but instead he just looked tired. You huffed out a breath of air.

“Yes, Gyu. I’m locking you in the car so that you can’t run away from me when I’m trying to be serious. I’m not mad at you for being angry earlier. I mean- I was- and then I thought about it and I figured out why you were so upset,” Beomgyu’s face morphed into something close to fear and he opened his mouth to speak. “You don’t want to be caught between Taehyun and I if we date and get in a fight or breakup. I didn’t really think about the fact that you’re also friends with him. I can’t imagine how awkward you must feel about it,” you continued despite his desire to talk. You swallowed hard. “But you need to understand that even though you might feel weird, I still really like him and while I love and value your opinion I’m still going to go out with him.” Beomgyu seemed a little stunned but he nodded anyway.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he pushed his hair away from his forehead, “I’m sorry for getting so upset earlier, but I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I’ve known Taehyun for a while but I’ve known you for even longer and the last thing I want to see is you falling apart because of anything he does.” Your mouth suddenly felt dry.

“What do you mean? Is there something I should be worried about?” You had a feeling that Beomgyu had accidentally let part of his last sentence slip and was now trying to pick up the pieces.

“No! No, Taehyun is great. He’s...he’s a good guy. I was just trying to say that,” he took a deep, shaky breath, “that I don’t know what I would do if you ever came to me hurt over a boy. Any boy. I just love you so much.” He seemed oddly vulnerable even though he had told you that exact phrase so many times before. You hoped he didn’t notice the way your breath stuttered upon hearing him say it so emphatically. There was no way he could know the effect his words had on you. His softened eyes locked onto yours at the feeling of your hand on his shoulder.

“I love you too, Gyu. And I promise you won’t have to be dealing with anything like that. I can handle myself. Now please don’t be so awkward tomorrow. We have a lab and I’d rather not spend the whole period forcing you to speak to me.” Beomgyu’s eyes crinkled into a smile and he reached over to pinch your cheek between his fingers.

“Stoppppp,” you whined loudly, pushing his hand away from you with all of your might. When he finally let go you cupped your cheek in feined upset. “I bought you candy and this is how you repay me?” The sound of the passenger car door unlocking prompted Beomgyu to open the door and hop out into his driveway.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow morning to make up for it.” He was bounding up the steps to his house before you could even come up with a witty response, but you drove away with a lightened heart.

----

Your first date with Taehyun took place on a warm Saturday night. He took you stargazing in a field you didn’t even know existed and somehow came up with a playlist full of your favorite music. It was such a perfect night that you even dreamed of it when you crawled into bed later in the evening.

The next day, you practically ran down the street to Beomgyu’s house to spill all of the details. You greeted his parents and easily bounded into the comfort of his bedroom like you had hundreds of times before. He was still sprawled out under his comforter, hair laying in a mess around him when you busted in.

“You’ll never guess how well yesterday went!” you threw yourself next to him on the bed and bounced him slightly. He groaned and finally sat up.

“Oh, that good, huh?” His voice was still heavy with sleep as he pushed a hand through his unruly hair.

“Yes! He picked me up kind of late and I was worried he was going to take me to a movie, which is-”

“The worst first date,” Beomgyu finished for you as he slid out from under his comforter and stretched his limbs.

“Right. But instead he took me to this field I didn’t even know was a thing around here, and he brought snacks and a blanket and we stargazed!” Beomgyu nodded along to your words as he shuffled toward his door.

“I have to pee, I’ll be back and you can keep filling me in,” you pouted a bit at his interruption of your rambling but knew just how small and insistent his bladder could be. He had missed his fair share of plot twists in movies due to chugging his entire slushie during the previews. You watched him leave and mentally kicked yourself for fawning over the way a strand of his hair seemed to be stuck permanently straight upwards. It was time for you to focus on Taehyun, not Beomgyu. He was just your best friend.

He returned promptly, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes in a way that made you coo at him. He cringed in return and plopped back down on his bed. “Continue telling me about Wonder Boy,” he droned. You frowned.

“You seem like you don’t want to hear about it, Gyu. Are you okay?” He was quiet for a moment.

“Just peachy,” despite the edge in his voice you continued, thinking maybe he was just grumpy this morning.

“Somehow he made the perfect playlist. I’m talking all of my favorite songs. It totally surprised me. We never even talked about music. I really want to know how he knew it all,” you sighed dramatically and missed the way Beomgyu rolled his eyes. After a few more seconds of silence, you felt the need to talk again.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I feel like you’re mad about...something,” you couldn’t quite place it but you knew that something was off with him.

“I’m sure. Just hungry.” He offered as he stood and headed for his door once again. Out of instinct you followed him to his kitchen and downed a bowl of cinnamon cereal in a comfortable quiet.

“We should watch some movies off of our list today,” you offered as you washed out your cereal bowls. Beomgyu gave you the first genuine smile of the morning as he agreed and rushed back to his room to turn on his television and retrieve the ever growing list from his desk drawer. When you met him in his room he was already cuddled up in his blankets with the movie queued.

“Come on, slow poke!” You couldn’t hold back a giggle at how adorable he looked all nestled in like a newborn baby as you slid in right next to him and laid your head on his chest. The movie he had picked was entertaining enough, but certainly catered more to Beomgyu’s tastes than yours. For the sake of being the wonderful best friend you knew you were, you tried your best to focus on it. At some point you lost track of which character was which and gave up on actively following.

Your phone vibrated three times in a row and you decided that since you were already lost, there would be no harm in seeing who was texting you. Your heart rate increased twofold as you read Taehyun’s name. Your thumbs hovered over the screen as you tried to figure out how to respond quickly. While there were no strict rules for your movie watching adventure, you knew that Beomgyu would get whiny quickly about phone usage.

Unfortunately, your neurons weren’t firing fast enough for Beomgyu’s liking.

“Y/N,” he whined, “Can you put your phone away? Who are you even texting?” You could feel him craning his neck to see your screen before noticeably freezing under you.

“Of course,” he mumbled, darkness edging back into his tone. You sighed and sat up off of him and fixed him with what you hoped was a convincing glare.

“Of course what? I’m sorry he texted me, but why are you so angry over him? There’s something you aren’t telling me. Just come out with it already! I thought we were past your pouting over Taehyun and I!” Beomgyu’s jaw tightened at your words.

“No, Y/N. We’re not past it. I’m not over the fact that you’re doting over him when he didn’t even plan your date!” Your eyes widened in confusion.

“Of course he planned the date. Don’t be ridiculous,” you waved him off, shaking your head in disbelief of how childish he was being. Beomgyu sat straight up and reached for his phone from his bedside stand.

“Fine, look. Here’s the proof,” he shoved his phone into your hands, “He wanted to take you to a movie. I told him that was an awful idea,” you read along the messages as he spoke and saw that he was telling the truth. “And so I gave him the stargazing idea, because you once told me that would be your ideal date.” You knew he was right. You could recall the game of truth or dare where you told him that.

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, “I told you that two years ago.” Your heart swelled with a sort of pride you didn’t know you were capable of. Beomgyu was unable to hold back the shy smile that cracked onto his face. He cleared his throat loudly.

“And I had to tell him what snacks to get, and the music… that’s my playlist for you,” his voice was much more timid than you had ever heard it. “So I planned the date. I was so jealous that he asked you out, and even more so that you said yes. And then he texted me and had to get my advice and I felt even dumber. I’ve been dying to tell you the truth but you were so happy.” Beomgyu heaved a sigh and clenched his fists. “He took you on the date I’ve wanted to take you on since the day we met. And then you came here and you’ve spent all morning talking about how great it was,” he raked his fingers through his hair, “I can’t keep pretending that I haven’t been burning up inside since you told me you said yes to him.”

Beomgyu’s eyes were shaking just as much as his hands when you placed his phone back into them.

“You’re unbelievable,” your words were slipping out before you had time to filter them, “I can’t believe you didn’t just tell me that you liked me. I’ve spent years trying to drown my feelings for you so that our friendship would stay intact and you’re telling me you’ve been in love with me?”

Beomgyu choked on his own spit. “Wait, you have feelings for me too?” You stared at him with your mouth hanging wide open for a few seconds.

“Well I-” you sputtered, “I’ve always kind of…” he raised an eyebrow at you, “Okay, yes! Yes I have feelings for you. I love you too. Love love,” you threw your hands up in defeat as Beomgyu started to laugh deeply. You gasped at him.

“Why are you laughing? I just confessed to you and you’re laughing? You know what, I’m gonna go.” Both of you knew your words held no weight but Beomgyu grabbed you by the wrist to stop you anyway.

“Nope, too late,” he pulled your body back towards his until you were sitting cross legged right next to him. “I’m laughing,” he began as he laced his fingers with yours, “because it's so stupidly like us to take five years and a third party to get us to confess our feelings.” You knew he was right. The absurdity of the situation just felt like another chapter in your book of blissfully clueless friendship.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked sweetly.

“Did you brush your teeth?” You were half teasing and half serious, “I’m not remembering our first kiss as the time you forgot to brush.” Beomgyu pinched your side in retaliation until you surrendered.

“Of course I brushed, Y/N. I’m not a heathen,” you could tell by his tone that he was bordering on being actually offended. “Now can I please kiss you?” You hummed thoughtfully and inched your face closer to his.

“Since you asked so nicely.” His mouth descended on yours and you discovered that yes, he actually did brush his teeth. The thought made you smile as the two of you pressed your lips impossibly closer until they were red and swollen. You felt a little dazed at the idea that you had just kissed Choi Beomgyu, best friend and secret crush of five years. He leaned in again and you closed your eyes, thinking he was going in for another kiss. Instead you felt a rush of warm air against your skin as he laughed.

“You’re already ready for our second kiss?” He teased as you finally opened your eyes. “I was just reaching behind you for your phone,” he waved the object in front of your face. “We have to come up with a text to let Taehyun down easy.” The sparkle in his eyes told you he was getting way too much entertainment out of the idea.

“You’re the worst, Beomgyu,” you crossed your arms across your chest in defense.

“But you love me,” he said in a singsong voice, “love love.”

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