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kaleidohscopic · 5 months

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IN THE DYING SUMMER SUN — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: a weekend up at the beach house might just be enough to make you crack and come clean about your little (big, fat) crush. alternatively, park chanyeol is possibly the worst wingman ever. GENRE: friends to lovers! au, crush! baekhyun, romance, fluff, a pinch of angst, pining, humour WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension!!, slightly suggestive, reader and baekhyun are both kind of clueless tbh WORD COUNT: 9.4k NOTE: happy birthday baekhyun!! thought it would be fitting to start off this blog with a fic for bbh on his birthday. this was supposed to be a 4-5k piece of fluff but somehow it ended up being double that and a lot more serious than i originally intended (oops?). kinda nervy posting such a long fic for the first time ever so feedback is most certainly welcome and i hope you enjoy!

“You definitely rigged this.”

Chanyeol only rewarded you with a shit-eating grin.

The scrap of paper couldn’t weigh more than a few grams, but in your hands, they felt like the barbell plates at the gym that he could never leave alone. Especially since a certain someone was also holding another scrap of paper with ‘ground floor twin room’ hastily scrawled across it.

You shook your head vehemently, fixing the tall boy with a dagger-like stare that he seemed completely unfazed by. “I demand a redraw.”

“Which is not going to happen,” was his gleeful response. “We all agreed — no take-backs before picking.” The hat that you had all drawn out of, now empty, was tossed on the coffee table as everyone else began to move their bags into their freshly chosen rooms. Somewhere down the hallway, Jongin tripped over the wheels of his suitcase, his pained groan and Kyungsoo’s laughter bouncing against the walls of the AirBnb.

“Besides,” Chanyeol continued, hand coming up to ruffle your hair, “if I had actually rigged it, you should be thanking me. I’d be doing you a favour.” He gestured towards Baekhyun, who was busying himself with packing his hoodie back into his duffle bag, hopefully oblivious to the fact that the two of you were conspiring about him less than three metres away.

“Yeah, say it any louder, why don’t you. And no, that wasn’t an invitation,” you warned, catching the wicked glint in Chanyeol’s eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to make good on your request and let the whole house know, only to choke back a groan at the elbow you shoved into his side. Behave, said the glare that you shot at him. His replying smile was anything but reassuring, before he picked up his bag and headed upstairs.

That was what you got for getting a little too drunk at Jongdae’s housewarming get-together last month and accidentally slipping up about your big, fat, debilitating crush on Baekhyun after the third glass of pinot noir in one night. If it had been anyone else made aware of your juvenile secret, you would probably be feeling a little less uneasy — but it just had to be the one person who couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Not to mention Park Chanyeol was a terrible wingman, having heard about the ridiculous escapades he put Jongdae through before he finally cuffed his girlfriend. Lucky for you, you were now getting to experience it first-hand.

“I can ask Jongin to swap, if you really don’t want to room with me,” came a soft voice from your right. Baekhyun regarded you with an expectant, if somewhat hesitant expression.

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, trying your best to mask the panic that was fighting its way into your voice. It would be just your luck, that he would think your reluctance to share a sleeping space with him was because you didn’t like him enough, and not that you liked him a little too much. The slight furrow in his brow seemed to melt away with your words. “I just wanted the big room with the queen bed, but somehow Chanyeol got it. I seriously think he did something to these,” you said, waving your slip of paper that matched the one he was holding.

Come to think of it, you and Baekhyun had also been the last ones to draw out of the hat, since Chanyeol had insisted on going counter-clockwise around the dining table. How he managed to game the room allocations was beyond you, but you were now almost certain that he did.

“It’s good that he’s by himself though. The snoring would drive anyone mad,” Baekhyun mused, and you had to chuckle in agreement.

“That time he passed out at my place after Saturday drinks…I genuinely thought I’d end up with a murder charge that night.” you said, chest squeezing at the way his eyes crinkled into crescent moons at your words. You busied yourself with your own bag, hoping he wouldn’t see the dumb smile on your face, and be able to tell how pleased you were to have teased a laugh out of him. Laughter was not something he usually withheld — he gave it freely, if not a little too generously — but it always did a funny thing to your heart when you were the cause of it.

“Definitely can’t have that. Pretty face like yours would not last a day in jail.” With one hand around his own duffle, he draped the free one around your shoulders, letting the warmth of his arm wrap around you as you headed down the corridor to the room you’d be sharing for the weekend.

Having a crush on Baekhyun was no big deal. Probably even normal, if his college days were anything to go by. But what made it so debilitating was things like this — the little comments he’d throw around that could easily be passed off as just friendly flirting if you were so inclined, though you sometimes let yourself imagine his intentions came more from the flirting than the friendly part. He was a generally touchy person too, never missing a chance to pat Kyungsoo’s ass when the opportunity arose, but sometimes the brush of his fingers against the inside of your wrist felt a little too affectionate for two people united solely through friendship, even if you were the only one who internally crossed that line a while ago. It was things like this that made you question, every once in a while, if your feelings were as one-sided as you believed. Most of the time though, you chalked it up to his disposition, his easy-going magnetism, and concluded that whatever signals you thought he was sending were merely due to your overactive imagination running wild with hopes that he felt the same way.

“Dibs left,” he said, plopping down on the twin bed closer to the window. His arms raised above his head in a long, yawning stretch, revealing a thin strip of skin at the waistband of his jeans. Just the sight of it was enough to control your blood, sending a rush of it to your face, and you internally cursed yourself for being so weak to such a small thing. It was obvious you had been alone for way too long. He was too comfortable to notice the flush on your cheeks, eyes shut and enjoying the tension leaving his body after the long drive up.

You sat yourself down carefully on the remaining bed, noting the gap between the two mattresses. Whether you wanted to push them together or against opposite walls of the room, you couldn’t be sure. It was hard to form coherent thoughts when he turned to you with a boyish playfulness that curled the corner of his mouth upwards.

“You’re not going to sleepwalk your way into my bed, are you?” he asked, chin in his hand, a teasing glint in his eyes. You tried hard to catch yourself from choking on your own saliva.

“I’ve been known to kick in my sleep,” was your reply, voice much more nonchalant than you thought you were capable of, given that he had just planted the seed of the two of you sharing a twin mattress that was definitely not big enough to lie down on without touching in at least three different places. The glint in his eyes faded immediately, giving way to thinly-veiled concern at the threat underlying your words.

“I was kidding,” you clarified when he sat up and started to back away from you. “At least, I haven’t done that for fifteen or so years. But you never know, it might come back again tonight, when you’ve finally fallen asleep, and then BAM! Foot to the face. You better sleep with your eyes open, Byun Baekhyun,” you warned, giggling at the realisation dawning over his face before his pretty features settled into mock annoyance.

“You just think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He was on all fours now, making his way towards you with a wolfish grin. In no time, he had crawled over the gap between your two beds and suddenly his fingers were prodding at your ribs. It was a well-planned tickle attack, and one you had no chance of escaping from, since his legs had caged you in and the rest of him was pinning you down. You were helpless against the ambush of his fingers, succumbing to them with gasping giggles, punctuated by desperate pleas for him to stop. He showed no intention of letting up, fingers digging even deeper into your waist.

If you were going to die like this, you thought, at least you’d be dying while lying under him.

“When you two are done canoodling, we’re going to go set up on the beach,” came a voice from the doorway. Baekhyun’s merciless fingers paused, and the two of you looked back to see Chanyeol’s amused face at the foot of your bed, smirking like he knew some big secret that neither of you were privy to. God, you were seriously regretting that third glass at Jongdae’s new apartment last month.

Baekhyun turned back to you, your noses almost touching, and you could feel the air from his exhales fanning against the skin of your cheek. There was a mole just above the corner of his mouth that you don’t think you had ever noticed before. Warmth from his jean-clad legs radiated into your hips and meandered up and down your spine, and suddenly the late summer air around you was becoming sticky and heavier than usual.

As if just now noticing the proximity you were in, he slowly untangled himself from your limbs, making sure not to crush you in the process. You sat up, still breathless, having just calmed down enough for full inhales again, but so was he, you noted. Surely tickling wasn’t that exertive of an activity? Or maybe you’d put up a better fight than you had thought.

“Don’t forget your towels,” was the last thing Chanyeol said before he ducked out, yelling at Jongin to grab the beach umbrellas, not the rain ones. There were a few seconds just filled with the sounds of your slowing breathing.

“I’m going to go get changed,” Baekhyun said, turning around to dig through his bag for his swim shorts. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could hear the slight tremble in his voice that indicated he hadn’t quite recovered from whatever was afflicting him. “We’ll probably just be setting up the umbrellas, so no rush, just come down when you’re ready.” As he turned around to head towards the bathroom, he flashed you that familiar smile, the one that always resulted in one of your own to mirror his, and set you at ease again.

“And make sure you bring your sunscreen,” he added, before disappearing down the hallway. You watched him go, throwing yourself back onto the bed with a frustrated groan once you were sure he was out of earshot. Two whole days and nights in this tiny room, in the languid death of summer, with his body just an arm’s length away from yours — you had no idea how much of this you could stomach and emerge with your sanity intact.

This was shaping up to be the longest weekend ever.

The afternoon sun was unforgiving when you emerged from the house. Though you had thrown on a cover up before leaving, you could feel the heat tingling on the surface of your skin through the thin cotton. From the top of the bushy path leading down to the beach, you could already hear the tell-tale signs of a competition brewing between the boys, even if you couldn’t quite see them yet. A few steps down and you could make out their figures, managing to catch the view of Chanyeol flipping backwards off the jetty before plunging into the water, where the rest of them were bobbing around. Baekhyun’s voice floated above the others the way it always did when he was teasing, liltingly distinguishable, though perhaps that was only because you were now so attuned to it that other voices naturally started to sound more foreign.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when he went from Baekhyun, your friend who tended to get a little too rowdy after half a can of beer, to Baekhyun, your friend who made your heart pick up a little faster when you thought of him. One day his hiccuping laugh was teetering on the edge of obnoxiousness, and then all of a sudden it became endearing to hear the raw joy in his voice. If you knew exactly when the switch flipped, maybe you’d be able to retrace your steps and stop yourself from ever setting off down this path to end up where you were now, watching the sunlight glisten against his wet face with an overwhelming affection, wondering what it would be like to be the private audience of his radiant smile everyday.

You set your things down on the sand next to the pile of clothes and towels that were already there, recognising Chanyeol’s hat somewhere in the mix. The beach umbrella that Jongin had set up was already beginning to lurch towards one side, the brim rather close to the ground. Fixing it back in place and digging it into the sand a little deeper, you let out a fond laugh — some things, like the way Jongin used his hands like they weren’t his own, would stand the test of time.

You had hoped that your friendship with Baekhyun would be one of those things, but the more time you spent casting longing glances his way when he wasn’t looking, the more you weren’t sure if you could ever recover from his rejection if you ever did decide to be honest about your feelings towards him. So you did your best to bury them, content to enjoy his company in the way you were both familiar with, afraid that if they did surface, they’d taint your friendship with something unpleasant and irreversible. If you couldn’t own the sun, at least you could still revel in its warmth.

Satisfied with the position of your towel underneath the shade of the umbrella, you looked back at the water, returning Baekhyun’s sweeping wave with a small one of your own. It was just enough of a distraction for Chanyeol to turn around as well, and Baekhyun seized the opportunity to dunk him, gleefully howling as the taller boy’s head disappeared below the waves. Before Chanyeol could resurface and enact his retaliation, Baekhyun was already making his escape, swimming towards the shore with fearful determination. Chanyeol made to follow, but upon seeing you sitting on the beach with your eyes fixed on Baekhyun’s approaching figure, he thought better of it, turning back around to continue the diving evaluation as Jongin took his turn to leap off the jetty.

With an amused smile, you watched as Baekhyun hurried out of the ocean, wet hair flying in all directions and flicking droplets of seawater across the sand. The water trickled down the planes of his bare torso, and you tried to keep your eyes away from the firmness of his pec, or the flexing movements of his abdominals as he made his way over to you. One thing was for sure — the gym sessions with Chanyeol were paying off.

When he finally reached you, Baekhyun slumped onto your towel, ignoring your protests for him to stay away, and proceeded to soak you in the remaining water that was still clinging to his body. The skin of his stomach was cool against your calf, and he giggled delightfully at your attempts to push him off to avoid getting more water onto your clothes.

“Stop trying to fight it, you’re going to get wet when you go in anyway,” he said, finally rolling off you.

“I wasn’t planning on going in. I’m scared you’ll try to drown me,” you huffed, lightly flicking some sand onto his shoulder with your toe. He turned back around, chin cradled in his left hand, and flashed you a boyish smile.

“I would never do that,” he said, though the glint in his eyes was anything but convincing. “Besides, what are you going to do at the beach if you’re not getting in the water?”

You picked up the book nestled in between your shoes and waved it at him. “Read, of course.” He regarded the worn paperback with amused disbelief, eyebrows slightly raised. It was only when you flipped the book open to the paperclip you’d been using as a bookmark that he realised you were serious, and let out a scoff that was laced with something akin to fondness.

“You are such a cliche. Pretty girl reading at the beach? Unbelievable, seriously,” he said, before wriggling his head into your stomach, relishing in your shocked squeals as your cover up began to dampen again. His mischief had left a few wet patches on the fabric that were beginning to stick to your body in the uncomfortable fashion of late summer. You reached for the hem, pulling it off not without some struggle, and immediately felt the sun kissing against your bare shoulders. Though you were mostly covered by the shade from the umbrella, the last thing you wanted was a blistering sunburn where the straps of your tote bag usually rested, so you grabbed the sunscreen you had so diligently packed and began applying it on the parts of your skin that were exposed.

Baekhyun had gone uncharacteristically quiet. If you had been paying attention to him instead of so attentively rubbing the cream into the underside of your knee, perhaps you would have noticed the way his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than would have been polite. They followed the path your hands took, from the expanse of skin below your neck, across your stomach, and down the length of your legs.

“Do you want me to do your back?” he blurted, his voice a little more strained than usual. He was wearing an odd expression on his face, something you couldn’t quite place, but it was different from the usual playful one you were most well acquainted with. Nevertheless, you agreed, passing him the tube and turning around so your back was facing him.

His fingers were still cold from the water, and you jumped when they first made contact with your skin. He only laughed, squeezing both hands around your shoulders to hold you still before he got back to work again.

The first graze of his hands across your shoulders was tentative. You could feel the heat of him behind your back, the smell of salt and sun clinging to the air around you. His breaths fanned the skin on the back of your neck, sending goosebumps down your arms and legs despite the thick heat of the afternoon. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Slowly, his hands made their way down to your lower back, and it was then that you realised you might be in trouble. His hands pressed against the grooves of your spine, curving ever so slightly around your waist, and if you shivered, he pretended not to feel you tremble in his grasp.

It was when his fingers slipped underneath the ties of your bikini top that the alarm bells began to go off in your head. His movements were hesitant, fingers stuttering in their dance across your skin before they gingerly pulled the strings aside to spread the sunscreen between the top and bottom halves of your back. It was too much, feeling his warmth, knowing there was only an inch of space between your bare torsos, having his hands on you doing such a thorough job with the task he had assigned to himself. When the tips of his fingers brushed the side of your ribs, just under the edge of the fabric, you couldn’t help the breathy noise that escaped your lips.

“Actually, I think I left something back at the house,” you said suddenly, words hurriedly running into each other as they tripped over your tongue on the way out of your mouth. Twisting away from his dangerous touch, you bolted to a stand and hoped he’d attribute the pinkness of your cheeks to being outside in the brightness of the afternoon. Your words came out staggered, the slight tremble in your voice betraying the composure you were fighting so hard to maintain.

Baekhyun’s gaze was careful, if not a little confused. The more his eyes ran over you, the more you were sure that the depth of your feelings towards him were beginning to surface on your face. Another second and he’d be able to tell, he’d figure out the little secret you’d been trying to conceal for the last couple of months. And then you wouldn’t be able to deny its existence anymore.

So you fled, tossing a rushed promise to be right back over your shoulder before scurrying up the bushy path again. Away from the scrutiny of his eyes, away from the truth you did not want revealed to the world. The ghost of his touch lingered between your shoulder blades and along the ridges of your spine, your body already committing to memory the caress of his skin against yours. You realised then, that it would not be possible to continue living on as usual, now that you knew the taste of his closeness, as fleeting as it may have been.

“I think you should just go for it.”

Your fingers tightened around the glass at his words. Chanyeol’s tone was light and pragmatic, speaking as if the act of unfurling your heart were nothing more than a decision about whether to have steak or pork belly for dinner.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed, bringing the bottle to your lips.

“I’m serious though,” he continued, nudging your arm with the lip of his own beer. “I think you should just tell him, and see what he says. And stop expecting the worst. You’ll never know how things could turn out if you never do anything.”

You let your head fall back to lean on the doorframe you were both standing against, gazing out at the patio that had begun to darken following the sunset. Baekhyun and Jongin were placed at opposite ends of the ping pong table that had been wheeled out of the living room after dinner, neither seeming to mind the soft prick of grass at the underside of their bare feet. Whether the game was proceeding well was difficult to deduce, since both were sporting wide grins and rosy cheeks, courtesy of the glasses in their hands — but judging by the cluster of orange balls around Baekhyun’s feet, you had an inkling that victory would not be his. He didn’t seem to mind yet, laughing gleefully as Jongin swung his racquet too hard and launched a ball over the fence.

“Not everyone is as good as you when it comes to talking about their feelings, you know,” you said, fixing Chanyeol with a knowing look that was halfway between admiration and resentment. If you only had his courage of expression, perhaps you would’ve put an end to your suffering a while ago. Ripped the band-aid off cleanly instead of peeling away at it, day by day, bit by bit, until it was hanging on by the last of its adhesive. You weren’t sure how much longer your resolve could last, if it would even survive this weekend without snapping under the force of your attraction.

He only shrugged. “You can’t get good without actually doing it.” You pondered his words in the short silence that settled while you both took another sip. He was right, of course, you knew that, but it didn’t make hearing it any easier.

“I think… I’m just scared,” you began slowly. Realising you were about to put his advice into action, Chanyeol turned to you with reassuring and patient eyes, waiting. You took a deep breath, swinging the contents of your bottle back and forth, and continued, “I’m scared that if I do tell him, it’s going to change our relationship and then I’ll lose him completely. At least if I don’t say anything, he’s still my friend, and I get to keep being in his life.”

He regarded you for a moment, brows furrowed thoughtfully, as he decided on his next words. It was no easy feat to try on honesty the way you just did, having so carefully avoided it for your entire life, and he was well aware of it. The slight tremble in your hands was a dead giveaway.

“And I think that’s completely understandable,” he finally said. “There’s always going to be a trade-off, no matter what you choose to do. But I guess you have to weigh up which one means more to you, and if you’re willing to take that risk on the chance that it does work out between you two. I’m only telling you what I think you should do. You’re the one who knows your own feelings the best.”

Another silence fell over the two of you again. Your bottle was nearly empty now, the beer inside already lukewarm from being out of the cooler for too long. Jongin let out a cheer as the ball sailed over his head, landing far behind him on the grass and ignoring Baekhyun’s flagrant attempts at contesting the point. Even under the patio lights, he was still so pretty, cheeks pink and glowy, the shape of his mouth so endearing as it settled into a pout. By now, you were used to the longing, and paid it no mind as it filled your chest with a bittersweet warmth.

“Aren’t you two best friends though?” you asked, the thought suddenly occurring to you. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about how he feels about… whatever is going on?” The look you gave Chanyeol was suspicious, but he stood strong, resisting your prying eyes.

“I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I went around blabbing to you about his feelings, would I?” was his response, accompanied by an elusive smile. There was something in his words that lingered in your mind, some important detail you felt as if you had overlooked, but his amused expression gave you nothing to hold onto. “You’re both so clueless,” he chuckled after a beat of your thoughtful silence, downing the rest of his drink.

Baekhyun was skipping over now, having officially lost 18-21 to Jongin, who was heartily celebrating his victory with a series of hoots and giggles. He headed straight for you, hair all messed up from running his hands through it during the game, and a rosy flush to his face, though you weren’t sure if that was from the game or the glass that he had left at the ping pong table. When he wrapped his arms around you and buried his head in your shoulder, you knew that it was probably the latter.

“I lost the game,” he whined, petulant and firm against you. His hair tickled your chin, and you could smell the faint scent of his shampoo from his shower after the beach.

“Are you drunk already?” you asked, trying to mask your breathlessness at his proximity with a few giggles. Baekhyun’s affinity for physical contact was the worst — or best, depending on how you looked at it — when he had alcohol in his system, and it didn’t take much to push him past the borders of sobriety. His ache for touch and affection was most often relieved on you, and you always obliged, gladly and readily letting him take whatever it was he wanted.

The tip of his nose brushed back and forth against your skin as he shook his head. “Just a little, tiny bit,” he said, voice muffled, and you felt the warmth of his breath through your t-shirt.

“Where’s the love for your best friend?” Chanyeol teased, the only one amused at the way Baekhyun had dived straight into your arms without even sparing him a glance.

The boy in your arms didn’t even falter, only snuggling further into you. “You know it’s because she’s my favourite,” he murmured, lips skimming your collarbone ever so softly as he spoke. The panic onset was instantaneous, and you prayed he was too drunk to pick up on the sudden rapid thundering of your heartbeat inside your chest. You tried to look at Chanyeol for help, but he was setting off across the patio, taking up Jongin on his invitation for a match with the promise that he would wipe the floor with the younger boy.

Baekhyun only hummed contentedly, oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking inside you, tightening his hold around you when you made a half-hearted attempt to wriggle out of his arms. His pink lips set into another rounded pout, brows slightly creased as he pulled back to look at you.

“You know you’re my favourite, right?” he asked, trying to be convincing despite the slight slur to his words. You could only nod, letting a small smile twist the corners of your mouth upwards. Whether he realised or meant what he was saying, you weren’t all that concerned, simply happy to bask in the warmth of his full attention knowing it was probably just nonsensical babble brought on by the drink in his belly. It was so much easier to be close to him when he was like this, hazier, and sure to forget most of what he had said the morning afterwards. It didn’t hurt that you were also starting to feel a little blurrier around the edges, the beer from earlier making its way through your system and leaving behind a pleasant fuzziness that made it all the more tempting to come clean about your feelings. But you weren’t quite there yet, and you had no plans to get to that point tonight.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he curled back up into you. With your hands around his back, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heart, the comfortingly even beat of it through his rib cage. It was so easy to imagine this was the way it had always been, and would always be, so easy to slip into the fairytale you often found yourself fabricating when your one-sided longing became too much to contain. It would be so nice if you could live in this moment forever, you thought. But was this small pocket of peace worth risking your entire friendship?

“I wish you’d stop running away from me,” he murmured, or at least that’s what you thought he said. It was a little difficult to concentrate when his lips were grazing your skin again, lightly feathering across your neck as the words shaped his mouth on their way out of it.

And then you felt it, the unmistakable and deliberate press of his lips against your collarbone, the gentle pressure and the slight moisture on your skin from it searing through you like a lit trail of gasoline. This time, he had to have heard the stilted gasp that escaped your mouth.

He lifted his head slowly to look at you again, searching your face with glassy eyes — for what, you weren’t quite sure. The only things you were sure of right now were the fiery burn in your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your heart that echoed between your ears.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, though his expression was nowhere near as apologetic as his words would have you believe. If anything, his gaze on you was almost daring, waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d shrink back into yourself like you always did when he got too close and crossed that invisible boundary you only danced around. If you’d run away from him the way he had just said he wished you wouldn’t. Or if you’d let him push you over too, just this once.

Seeing the hesitation in your face, he slowly extricated from you, retracting his limbs and warmth until they hung limply by his sides again. Scratched the back of his head. Let his eyes wander around the patio and settle on anything except for you.

“I’m going to see if Kyungsoo needs any help with cleaning up,” he said quietly, not waiting for your response as he headed back into the house. The drink had made his gait unsteady, and you felt him sway against the doorframe as he brushed past you. A chilling unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you watched him go, the shape of his back getting smaller and smaller as he was swallowed by the light of the living room.

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, and that there was a possibility it had not been in the direction you had hoped for.

Perhaps the second glass of wine had been a little overambitious, you realised, staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedroom. Kyungsoo had been so excited about the 2012 Shiraz he had brought from home, pouring you a full glass with an enthusiasm he didn’t often display. You couldn’t say no, and you didn’t protest when he refilled it a short while later. If he noticed the faster-than-usual speed with which you drained its contents, he did not show it. Whilst alcohol tended to put people to sleep, it had the opposite effect on you, dangling sleep in front of you like a carrot you could never get a hold of easily, or for long. That second glass of wine was the reason you were lying in bed, not soundly asleep like you wished, but keenly aware of every breath and every movement from the other occupant of the room, only an arm’s length away from you.

Baekhyun had spent most of the night with Chanyeol out on the patio, drinking and laughing under the generous light of the moon. Even if he wasn’t purposely avoiding you, you felt his absence from your side sorely. He didn’t say much during the wind down for bed either, only asking if you wanted the curtains fully shut, to which you gave an affirmative. Still, a sliver of moonlight speared through the gap between them, illuminating the room just enough that if you turned your head to the side, you could make out the outline of his body beneath the covers and acquaint yourself with the familiar curve of his nose.

It was only fair that the wine, having taken your sleep, offered something in return to mark an honourable trade. That something manifested itself in the restlessness of your mouth, which battled against the remaining rationality of your mind. Loose-lipped and anxious, you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, willing the war inside your head to approach a ceasefire. You did not want to make a fool of yourself in the intimacy of this small room.

However, your resolve could not last for long, corroded by the hours spent without his presence, without the familiar warmth of his touch, without his little comments meant only for you as he pointed out something silly or poked fun at Jongin’s whining. Barely above a whisper, you called out his name, letting your voice permeate the darkness. It was loud enough that he’d hear it above the silence, but soft enough that he could ignore it if he so wished, and you’d attribute his ignorance to the deepness of sleep.

There was a second of silence, which he followed with an answering hum and a shuffle of his legs on the mattress. He was awake, and he was waiting for you to speak.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked the ceiling.

“No, I’m not mad at you,” was his reply, accompanied by a quiet sigh. He was conversing with the ceiling too, just as reluctant to face you.

Your hands twisted the sheets in dissatisfaction. The even tone of his voice indicated truth, but his answer didn’t explain why he had spent the whole night outside without calling for you even once, when he usually couldn’t last half an hour without pressing into your side and tickling your shoulder to grab your attention.

“Then what?” you probed, cringing at the whiny edge to your voice.

He was quiet for a while, letting your words hang in the air, that for a moment you thought he wouldn’t speak, that your brief conversation had already come to an end, and you’d be left with unanswered questions as bedside companions for the night. There was another rustling from his side of the room as he settled himself under the covers.

“Sometimes, I think I want too much from you,” he finally said. He was quiet, but you heard every word with the clarity as if they had been projected through a stereo system. “And you can’t give me everything I want, but that’s not your fault. It’s an indication of my own greed and selfishness more than anything else.”

You kicked around at your sheets to signal your unrest at his words. “I don’t think you are greedy or selfish. At all. At least not with me.” If anything, you were the selfish one, wanting all his smiles and touches for yourself, wanting the entire spectrum of his existence to only ever be shown to you. Your generosity only ever came to light when it was in service of him, gladly letting him take your attention, your time, allocating space in your mind for him and him only.

Baekhyun only laughed a soft and short laugh at your reply, the sound so different from the usual one filled with boisterous joy that you had grown the most used to. You heard him turn over in his bed to face you. In the quiet darkness of the room, the focus of his gaze flooded over you, and the intensity of it was so blinding you didn’t dare to look away from the smoothness of the ceiling, fearing you’d smoulder into ash the moment you locked eyes with him.

“You know that you are a really important person to me. You know that, right?” he asked, eyes searing into you with the force of a thousand suns. “I mean, everyone else is also important because they’re my friends, but you’re different — you are a special person to me. I don’t see you the way I see Chanyeol, or Jongin, or anyone else.”

His words were still tinged with the slight slur of the beer from out on the patio, but you could feel the delicate care with which they were chosen and spoken. Something was different about tonight. You could taste it in the thick air between the two of you, feel it in the wire-taut tension stretching across the gap between your two twin beds. Your fingers dug into the comforter, willing the turbulence in your chest to subside.

He paused and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself against something devastating. “I don’t want the same things with them as I do with you.”

You held your breath until you felt the pain of deprivation in your chest.

“But I’ve made peace with the fact that what I want from you, and the way I feel about you, are things I’ll have to carry with me. They’re things I have to bear the weight of alone. I don’t — I would never want you to be uncomfortable, or see me differently.” There was a slight catch in his voice at the end.

You didn’t even know if your lungs were still working while you listened to him speak. There was a surrealness to the night, as if everything had been covered in a blanket of haze and everything that was transpiring was the product of a fever-induced dream, existing on an alternate timeline.

Baekhyun… it didn’t even feel right thinking it.

Baekhyun had feelings for you? And he had convinced himself it was one-sided?

“It’s pretty selfish, isn’t it? Asking you to act like things between us won’t change after everything I just said,” he laughed, but there was little humour in the sound. You finally turned your head to look at him, the wry curve of his mouth catching the moonlight as he gazed at you. He was smiling, the shape of it meant to comfort you, but he could not hide the sadness weaved into the downturn of his eyes. He had always been braver than you, perhaps not in the aspect of riding roller-coasters, but certainly in his ability to be honest and open about his emotions, regardless of whether they were good or bad.

It was your turn to be brave now, and shed your own fear to meet him where he stood.

“I’ve been seeing you differently for a while now,” you admitted, turning under the sheets to fully face him. You were grateful for the darkness, hoping that it would conceal the heat creeping up your neck and face, painting your cheeks with a hot blush that accompanied the start of your confession. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, confusion settling in the crease between them. You held yourself back from reaching out to smooth them over.

“What do you mean?”

“What makes you think you’re the only one who feels this way?” you asked instead, leaving his question unanswered. There was a tremble in your voice as you spoke, and you were sure he heard it above the quiet of your bedroom. It was the closest you could get to telling him without actually telling him about the silent battle that had been raging in your head for the last few months.

This was it, you thought. He had to know now.

“Am I not?”

The weight of his stare pressed against you, drawing you to him with the tangible pull of gravity. The eyes that roamed your face had replaced their previous confusion with questioning, and a glimmer of something akin to hope. He had never looked more beautiful and devastating than he did right now. You felt the light of dawn breaking over your skin, a promise of something new and good sure to follow. Its warmth simmered within you, staving off the chill of the late summer night with a heat that had you pushing off your covers in a hurried frenzy and rising to sit on the edge of your bed, toes just grazing the floorboards beneath you. Would you still have had the same nerve to face him in the daylight, rough and exposed without the lulling comfort of darkness? Would he still look at you, unpolished and flawed in the clarity of the sun, the same way, with the reverence of man at the sight of an angel?

Baekhyun mirrored you and sat up on his own bed, slowly, as if not wanting to spook you, fearing you’d run off and retreat back into the confined familiarity of your own head. His knees knocked against yours in the small space between your two mattresses. You jolted at the feeling of his skin on yours, having gone without it for so long that the mere touch was like the first drop of water after emerging from the desert. He made to move away, trying to shuffle across the length of the bed, but stilled at the hand you placed just over his knee, willing him to stay put. Surely, he could feel the beat of your heart thrumming through your fingertips.

It was your turn to be brave now.

Fueled by the second glass of Shiraz and the muted encouragement of darkness, before you could second guess yourself and overthink every possible negative outcome of what you were about to do, you closed your eyes and leant towards him. Slowly, inch by inch, until your journey ended with the soft, tentative press of your lips against his. It was short and chaste, nothing more than a gentle pressure, and you pulled back when you felt his lips part in surprise.

“Does that answer your question?” you whispered, heart in your throat.

There it was. You had gone and done it.

His eyes were closed, and in the dim moonlight peeking through the curtain, you could almost make out each of his eyelashes, fluttering dark and soft against the smooth skin of his cheek. For a few seconds, the room was filled only with the sounds of your breathing as you waited for his reaction, for the consequences of your actions and what that meant for your friendship with him.

Then you heard it — his soft laugh, coloured with appreciative disbelief, and felt the air of it caress your face. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a small, pleased smile. His eyes blinked open slowly, taking you in with a hunger that had desire curling in the pit of your stomach.

“You are just so…” he began, but you never found out just exactly what you were. He was already pulling you back into him, slotting his mouth against yours like they were always made to fit perfectly together. This time, the kiss was anything but chaste, the sheer force of it enough to scorch your insides down to your bones. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush towards him, and your knees parted around his thighs to adjust to the new position. Your own hands found purchase in the softness of the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for something to anchor yourself to, in fear that the realisation of this moment would somehow make it slip away.

This was what it felt like to stand unafraid and bare in the light of unbridled wanting, to consume and be consumed by a ravenous appetite with no propensity for satiety. When his hands slipped past the hem of your sleep tank, fingertips grazing across the skin of your lower back, you were sure you could erupt into flames. He swallowed the breathy noise that escaped your lips, tongue brushing against yours as he claimed your mouth with his own.

This was what it felt like to hold the sun in the palm of your hand.

When you broke apart to catch your breaths, his eyes were bright, lips plump and swollen, chest heaving beneath your hands. Somehow, you had ended up back on his bed, his head against the pillows, hands under your shirt and keeping you close to him with an unforgiving hold. He was gazing up at you with a devotion that made your heart swell even more than it did pulling oxygen back into your lungs.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” he admitted, hiding his head into the crook of your shoulder. You felt his abashed smile against your skin and wondered how it could be possible that you had contained all of this, the longing, the yearning, inside you for so long.

“How long?” you asked, hearing the smile in your own voice.

“Since Chanyeol’s birthday, when you wore that brown sweater with the little bow on the back.”

Last year, Chanyeol had gotten everyone together at his place for a nice dinner and wine followed by a binge watch of all the Iron Man movies in one sitting. It was all going according to plan until a quarter of the way into the third one, when he began snoring at his own birthday gathering. The bowl of popcorn was sliding out of his hands and sure to make a buttery mess all over the rug, and that’s when the rest of you decided to turn the television off and call it a night. Sehun and Jongin tasked themselves with getting the birthday boy into bed, and likely collapsed onto it with him immediately after, while Baekhyun had offered you the couch, assuring you he’d be fine with the blankets on the floor. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. As chaotic as he could be, Baekhyun was nothing if not kind, and you had been grateful that his kindness had always extended to you over the three years you had known each other.

“But that was more than half a year ago. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

His fingers prodded into your sides, eliciting a few choked giggles from you. “I didn’t know how you’d react. You know you’re not the most expressive person on the planet,” he said dryly. “Or the most observant. I literally frenched your collarbone and you’re telling me you didn’t realise I liked you more than as a friend?”

“Okay, well when you put it like that,” you huffed, feeling the vibrations of his laugh through his chest. “But you really didn’t know I had feelings for you? Chanyeol never said anything?”

His movements stilled, leaning back into the pillows so he could lock eyes with you again. “You talk to Chanyeol about me?” he asked, to which you nodded sheepishly. “Since when?”

“Last month, Jongdae’s housewarming. He fished it out of me after dinner,” you sighed, picturing his smug grin under the lights of Jongdae’s fancy new kitchen when you realised that you had slipped up and let him in on your little secret.

“But I talk to him about you.”

You looked at each other for another beat, realisation breaking over the both of you, before dissolving into another fit of disbelieving giggles. Maybe Park Chanyeol did know how to keep his mouth shut after all.

“So he’s a terrible wingman, is what I’m getting out of this whole thing,” Baekhyun chuckled, rolling you over so you were now lying on your side, face to face with him. He planted a slow, sweet kiss on your lips, taking his time to acquaint himself with the shape and taste of your mouth, and you felt the contentment of his smile against you. “I can’t believe we could have gotten together a month ago. Some best friend he is.”

“Gotten together?” you echoed, one eyebrow raised in feigned dispute, delighting in the way his sweet mouth settled into the pout that you adored.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t want to be with me after your tongue was all up in my mouth?”

You pushed his face away, groaning, “Gross, don’t say it like that.” He, however, had different plans, hooking a calf behind your knees and tugging you back into him, before weaving the other leg in between your own.

“You know you like it,” he murmured into your neck, squeezing his arms around you just in case you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. One hand traced absent-minded circles over the grooves of your spine as he breathed you in, warm and familiar against your chest.

Yes, you thought, you’d risk any and everything for this exact moment. It was worth all the doubt and heartache, all the time spent replaying those moments in your head, unsure of the meaning behind his actions. You could be sure of it now.

“I do,” you agreed, threading your fingers through the softness of his hair. “I probably more than like you,” you added, tilting his face upwards to steal another kiss, giddy and chest swelling with affection. Perhaps you weren’t quite yet ready for that other four letter word, but you had no doubt you would be one day, and soon. He was all too willing to comply, letting his mouth mould against yours with the poise and patience of a saint.

“I probably more than like you too,” he replied, punctuating his confession with one final kiss to the tip of your nose. It was enough for the serene smile on your face to persist, even past the arrival of sleep.

“I knew it.”

You cracked one eye open, trying to adjust to the light flooding in through the open door to your room. Chanyeol stood at the foot of your bed, grinning from ear to ear with what could only be described as a look of triumph as he took in the scene before him. The boy next to you stirred lightly, digging his face deeper into the pillow, reluctant to leave the realm of the sleeping. Chanyeol was not in the least sympathetic to his friend’s struggles, striding over to the window and pulling back the curtains with a clang. You winced as the full force of the morning sun barged in, and Baekhyun let out a soft noise of displeasure at the intrusion.

“I fucking knew it,” Chanyeol said again, quickly bringing you to your senses as you registered the weight of another body on top of your own. You made to remove yourself from him, fighting the flush creeping up your neck and face, but it was an effort which proved futile as he only tightened the arm around your waist, loath to let you go.

“Can you be quiet? You’re going to wake the whole house,” you hushed, finally succeeding in untangling your legs from Baekhyun’s, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately.

“They’re already up. I came to call you for breakfast,” Chanyeol replied, the grin seemingly stuck to his face. “Which actually reminds me,” he began, before sticking his head out of the doorway to holler, “You better pay up, Jongin. And you too, Kyungsoo!”

“You bet on us?” came the groggy voice from the pillows behind you.

“What the hell, Chanyeol? I thought you said you didn’t go around blabbing about his feelings!” you exclaimed, indignant.

“To you. I never said anything about telling anyone else,” was his reply, smug and victorious at having outsmarted you.

Kyungsoo appeared in the doorway, donning a flour-covered apron, as if to confirm for himself that he was in fact a debtor to the taller boy. “Even if he didn’t say anything, it wasn’t all that hard to figure out,” he said lightly, surveying the room with curiosity and paying no mind to the shock painted on your face. How had everybody known about your now not-so-secret crush on Baekhyun except for the man himself? “Anyways, I only said that it would be unlikely to happen over this weekend, not that it was impossible. So Jongin is the only loser. Now come for pancakes.” And with that, he headed back towards his bowl of batter on the kitchen counter, chuckling at the sound of Jongin’s complaints against fulfilling his end of the wager.

Baekhyun, having somewhat freed himself from the clutches of sleep, rose to a sitting position and shot a drowsy scowl at his friend. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”

But even the expletive could not put a damper on Chanyeol’s mood, his smile never slipping. “You two should honestly be thanking me,” he said, to which you also shot him a glare. “Also, I’m happy for you and everything, but can you please keep the PDA to a minimum in front of the rest of us? I will lock you out of the house if you don’t.”

Baekhyun turned to you, the creases of the frown on his face slowly but surely smoothing out as he took you in, cheeks puffy and hair a mess from having just woken up. He had seen you in worse states, and definitely in better states, but none of that seemed to matter as he regarded you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. You were sure that your expression mirrored his, affection spreading throughout your entire body, reaching even the tips of your fingers and toes, at the sight of his tousled bed head, the sleepy droop of his eyes, the sweet pinkness of his lips.

The sun was yours. There was no feasible way to stop the smile from blooming across your entire face.

“No promises.”

#baekhyun #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo x reader #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun au #exo au #exo fluff #kaleidohscopic works baekhyun

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childrenofcain-if · 1 month

Note

Can we have some facts about the ROs, dear author ? I'm very much looking forward to fix D, bad girls are my kryptonite

C LACROIX

C is an absolute unit at chess. if it wasn’t for them wanting to go into the business industry, they would’ve definitely clinched the title of grandmaster.

they’re also very good at playing violin and have been taking private lessons since they were nine.

they have a habit of taking long, solitary walks late at night to clear their mind.

they have an aston martin vantage and a porsche 911 carrera 4s which were a gift from grandpa lacroix before his death.

aside from english, they can speak french, latin, and italian.

their signature scent is a blend of sandalwood and jasmine.

they have a small, discreet tattoo of a latin phrase (“veni, vidi, vici”) on their ribcage.

C is particularly fond of designer clothes and have a vast collection, each custom-made to fit perfectly.

they find idle chatter to be an utter waste of time and will often steer conversations towards more intellectually stimulating topics.

C also had a very soft spot for pets, particularly dogs. they also secretly donate to many of the nation’s animal shelters, though you’ll never find them telling that to anyone.

they have undiagnosed OCD.

V NÆSHOLM

they are a twin. no one knows what exactly happened to their sister in the orphanage.

they’re a big fan of obscure literary texts, particularly those of nordic origins.

V also enjoys woodworking, a skill passed down from their orphanage days where they’d try to make small, wooden toys for some extra pocket money.

though they don’t attend church all that often, they always pray before bed and eating.

V wears a unique, earthy fragrance with notes of cedarwood, pine, and a hint of sea salt.

in addition to danish, ancient greek, nordic runes, and english, they’ve also picked up on some patois thanks to their adoptive mother.

V is deeply connected to nature and prefers spending time outdoors whenever possible. hiking, camping, and stargazing are some of their favorite activities.

autumn is V’s favorite season because the crisp air, the changing leaves, and the melancholy atmosphere makes them feel creatively inspired.

V can read tarot cards, a skill they picked up from their mother who liked doing it in her free time.

they absolutely loathe alcohol and steers absolutely clear of its presence if they can help it. they have no problem with other people drinking it tho.

they have claustrophobia.

W OSTENDORF

W is an avid birdwatcher and would often accompany their uncle to do it whenever they could. they can identify dozens of species by sight and sound and often spend early mornings in parks or nature reserves, binoculars in hand.

despite their strained relationship with their parents, W inherited a natural talent for photography and videography from their father.

W’s favorite book is “the catcher in the rye”, mostly because sometimes they can see a reflection of themself in holden caulfield.

W has a soft spot for cheesy 90s and early 2000s romcoms. they find comfort in the predictable plots and over-the-top acting, often watching them late at night when they can’t sleep.

their signature scent is vetiver, citrus, and bergamot.

they still wear MC’s worn down friendship bracelet from almost a decade ago.

W prefers to walk or bike wherever they go, finding the process therapeutic.

they’ve donated a large portion of their trust fund to homeless youth shelters, only keeping enough to get through university comfortably until they get a decent job.

they love playing the piano, something which their aunt taught them. however, they prefer modern pieces to classical ones.

their favourite directors of all time are wes anderson and sofia coppola.

they’re a chronic insomniac.

D DIACONU

D has a hidden talent for sketching. while they don’t talk about it much, their notebooks are filled with doodles and sketches, often of people they meet/know or abstract designs that reflect their current mood.

they’re nicknamed “rook” by their friends and bandmates. they also only know three languages: romanian, french, and english.

their indie band’s name is “the vignettes”, and the genre they play contains elements of alternative rock, grunge, and even folk sometimes. they’re the frontman, as well as a guitarist of the five-piece.

they’re known to get into long, intense conversations about the meaning of life, the universe, and everything—usually at 3 a.m., after everyone else has passed out. nobody seems to want to deal with this aside from C.

nirvana and the cure are on constant rotation on their playlist. their favourite guitar, valentine, was personally signed by kurt cobain and is their most prized possession.

their signature scent is a mixture of cinnamon, expensive marlboro, amber, and a hint of leather.

they love spicy food, mexican and indian cuisines being their favourite. give them a lifetime supply of chicken vindaloo and birria tacos and they’re set forever.

D is considered an adrenaline junkie and sometimes participates in extreme sports like parkour, bungee jumping, and sky diving.

they have a well-maintained 1969 AMC AMX/3, but rather prefer riding their MC ducati panigale v4.

they have a growing collection of tattoos, each one marking a significant (or significantly hazy) memory from their escapades. the most prominent one is a serpent wrapped around their collarbones.

it’s rare to find them in parties without the presence of any type of drugs. they’re not a full-blown addict, but also not too far from it.

M WHITLOCK-SINGH

aside from english, M speaks nine more languages fluently—hindi, french, italian, german, mandarin, russian, sanskrit, arabic, spanish, and latin.

they are proficient in several musical instruments, including the piano, violin, and guitar, often performing at private gatherings and charity events.

their personal library contains rare and first-edition books on any genre you can possibly imagine.

M has a keen eye for art and collects pieces from renowned and emerging artists, often curating exhibitions for charity.

they also have a very encyclopaedic knowledge of european and south asian history, often recalling the time period and details of the events.

they have travelled to more than 50 countries till date, accompanying their parents on many of their philanthropic missions.

their signature scent is a fancy blend of myrrh and frankincense, accented with touches of cypress and roses.

M has been interested in the existence of the occult and magic since they heard of stories involving them by their grandmother’s side.

despite being a famous royal figure, M has almost zero social media presence and greatly dislikes being filmed in public or having their private life probed at.

they are known to be the queen of england’s favourite grandchild.

M enjoys cooking and is particularly skilled at preparing elaborate south asian and mediterranean dishes.

#i’m sure i’m forgetting some things but oh well #ro: c lacroix #ro: v næsholm #ro: w ostendorf #ro: d diaconu #ro: m whitlock singh #if: the ballad of the young gods #interactive fiction #interactive novel #twine wip #interactive story #bonnie nonnie

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wildflowercryptid · 10 months

Note

Hope its okay if I ask about your versions of Florian and Juliana, thanks ^ _ ^

- Are they siblings?

- What are both their personalities?

- Were they actually raised in Paldea? The MC's in the game are implied to originally be from Galar so I was just wondering that

- Which storylines from the game are each the of them the main character of?

I'm so sorry if I've missed out an info sheet on them hhhhghg

Thank u again!

oh, it’s more than okay to ask about them! i actually really like talking about my interpretations of the pokémon characters, but i just struggle to articulate my ideas a lot of the time. or forget to share them. i’ve been meaning to drop lore for these two so i’ll do that now!

( putting the answers under a cut because i kinda ended up rambling. oops. )

are they siblings?

yes, they are! juliana is the older of the two, but they’re actually super close in age ( with jules not even being a year older than florian. ) because of that, they’re pretty close and sometimes get mistaken for twins. they still bicker and annoy each other like any other typical sibling relationship, but they respect each other a lot and consider each other their greatest confidant. their relationship kinda ends up paralleling carmine and kieran’s own dynamic as siblings, with juliana and florian seeing each other as equals while the same can’t really be said for carmine and kieran.

what are both of their personalities?

while they’re both pretty level-headed, juliana is definitely the more outgoing and confident of the two. florian is more of the reserved type, someone who typically keeps to himself and would much rather wait in the wings than be center stage, ( too bad he’s basically the major protagonist of the story. ) they’re both fairly friendly, but he struggles connecting with others more when compared to his sister. essentially, they’re kinda like a dialed-back version of mabel and dipper pines. florian generally is a very sweet and open-hearted kid who tries to see the best in others, which often leads to his kindness being taken advantage of and getting pushed around easily, ( i.e. carmine convincing him to keep the secret about ogerpon from kieran. ) because of that, juliana is a little protective of him and isn’t afraid to step in when he struggles to stand up for himself. and while she does like to be seen as reliable, that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t encourage florian to be more confident and advocate for himself more. he does end up growing more of a backbone during the timeskip, which makes her very proud. meanwhile, juliana is a lot more outspoken and doesn’t hold back when things need to be called out. she’s still just as compassionate as her brother and is extremely reliable, along with having a very strong moral compass. she definitely fills the cool, reliable older sister role pretty well.

were they actually raised in paldea?

they grew up in galar like what’s implied in canon, but the details are a little different. they’re actually paldean on their mother’s side, who was originally from cabo poco herself. their family decided to move from wyndon back to her hometown after their father lost his job at one of macro cosmos’s now defunct finance subsidiaries. luckily, he was able to land a new desk job in medali and now larry’s his boss. ( the two get along well, they talk about their kids during lunch breaks. )

which storylines from the game are each of them the main character of?

juliana takes on the victory road and starfell street storylines while florian tackles the path of legends and filling out the pokédex, with both of them coming together for the way home. initially, i conceptualized them as co-protagonists and they still kinda are… but florian has definitely taken on the role as primary protagonist with how much shit keeps on just happening to him. i would expand the specifics of how the path of legends plays out for florian and how his friendship with arven develops, but i’ve already rambled enough so i’ll try to talk about that in another post.

hope this answers all your questions and sorry if it's a little long, i've just gotten attached to these kids and have a lot to say about them.

if you have any other questions ( about the paldea kids or mjverse in general, ) please feel free to ask them! it might take me a sec to reply, but i'll try my best!

#i really do need to talk about florian in the path of legends bc i really like how his character ended up developing #it's basically ends up being a '' don't meet your heroes '' kind of story and how it strengthens florian's convictions >>>#to become a good pokémon professor #also him essentially adopting arven as a big brother #i love these kids so much they'd grown on me a lot #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pkmn scarvio #trainer juliana #trainer florian #hc : (pkmn) mjverse #chara : juliana sigal cavallari #chara : florian russel cavallari #🎨 : mj draws #asks #mj.txt

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alluringwidow · 12 days

Text

SEA GRUNKS, The Stan-O-War Chronicles

THE CURSE OF THE KRAKEN

Summary: Stan and Ford encounter a legendary kraken that disrupts their fishing trip, forcing them to uncover its ancient curse.

Characters: Stanley and Stanford Pines

Authors Note: This is a fan-made storyline inspired by the beloved characters and world of Gravity Falls. Sea Grunks: The Stan-O-War Chronicles follows the adventures of the Pines brothers, Stan and Ford, as they explore the mysteries of the ocean and encounter supernatural phenomena. This narrative is a creative expression and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the original creators or producers of Gravity Falls. All rights to the characters and original story belong to their respective owners.

If things go well with this series I plan on writing and doing more for the Stan twins and Gravity Falls in general such as comics, animations, etc so be on the lookout for those! Happy reading hope you guys enjoy!!

Word count: 1008

The sun hung high in the sky, casting glimmering reflections on the vast expanse of the ocean. A gentle breeze filled the air aboard the Stan-O-War II, a trusty vessel that had seen more than its fair share of adventures. Stan Pines leaned back in his deck chair, sunglasses perched on his nose, a fishing pole in hand, and the unmistakable scent of saltwater surrounding him. To Stan, this was the perfect vacation—just him, the sea, and the promise of a big catch.

“Ah, nothing like a day at sea,” he sighed, the corners of his mouth curling into a satisfied grin. “Just me, the ocean, and—” He glanced over at his twin brother, Ford, who was hunched over a table cluttered with maps, journals, and various strange artifacts. “Whatever you’re doing.”

Ford looked up, adjusting his glasses. “I’m studying oceanic anomalies, Stan. The ocean is filled with mysteries that could change our understanding of the world!”

Stan rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his fishing line. “Right. But I think I’d prefer a nice, quiet day of fishing instead of diving into whatever weirdness you’re chasing.”

Just then, a sudden jolt rocked the boat, causing Stan to nearly lose his grip on the fishing pole. “What in the name of all that’s fishy was that?!” he shouted, scrambling to regain his balance.

Ford’s eyes widened as he rushed to the edge of the boat, peering into the depths below. “It appears we have encountered a marine anomaly!”

Stan clutched the railing, squinting into the water. “By ‘anomaly,’ you mean a giant sea monster, right?”

Before Ford could respond, the water erupted in a violent splash. A massive tentacle burst forth from the ocean’s surface, sending waves crashing against the boat. Stan’s jaw dropped, and he had just enough time to scream, “That’s exactly what I meant!”

The tentacle wrapped around the Stan-O-War II, lifting it slightly out of the water. Stan’s heart raced as panic surged through him. “We need to escape! Documenting can wait!”

Ford, however, was already scribbling notes. “Fascinating! I need to understand this creature!”

“Understand it?” Stan yelled, his voice rising above the chaos. “I’d rather not become sushi!”

As the tentacle tightened its grip, Ford pulled out an odd-looking device that resembled a compass fused with a radar. “Wait! We can’t just leave! We need to understand what we’re dealing with!”

The tentacle began pulling the boat closer to the water, and Stan’s patience reached its limit. “I’d like to keep my limbs attached, thank you very much!”

Suddenly, the tentacle released its hold. The boat bobbed back into the water, leaving Stan and Ford both bewildered and breathless. Stan collapsed in his chair, panting. “What just happened?”

“I think that was a kraken,” Ford said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Ancient legends speak of its curse!”

Stan sat up, his eyebrows furrowing. “Curse? You mean like bad luck? I already have enough of that!”

Before Ford could elaborate, the radar began beeping furiously. “It’s coming back!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of awe and anxiety.

Stan’s heart raced again as the water churned ominously beneath them. “Okay, this is not the kind of fishing I had in mind.”

The kraken resurfaced, its immense body casting a shadow over the boat. Its massive, beady eyes locked onto Ford, who was now standing at the edge of the boat, spellbound.

“Fascinating!” Ford breathed. “We need to communicate with it!”

“Communicate?!” Stan cried, waving his arms frantically. “You communicate! I’ll be over here… fishing!”

As Stan desperately cast his line, Ford grabbed a glowing artifact from his collection and began chanting in a language that sounded ancient and melodic. The kraken responded with a deep, rumbling growl that echoed across the waves.

“Is it working?” Stan shouted, glancing over his shoulder.

Ford nodded, excitement radiating from him. “I think it’s curious!”

Just as Ford said this, the kraken lunged at the boat. Stan jumped up, dropping his fishing pole. “Curious?! It’s trying to eat us!”

In a moment of desperation, Ford hurled the glowing artifact into the water. The kraken paused, its tentacles stilling as it focused on the shimmering object.

“I think it wants this!” Ford yelled, frantically pulling out another device.

Stan stood frozen, his eyes wide. “Great plan, Ford! Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse!”

The kraken reached out with a tentacle, grasping the artifact and calming down, its fierce demeanor shifting to one of curiosity. Slowly, the creature began to retract its limbs, the menacing shadow fading into the depths.

Ford exhaled, a mix of relief and exhilaration washing over him. “See? It just wanted something shiny!”

Stan blinked, still trying to process what had just happened. “I knew I should have stuck to fishing for regular fish.”

As the brothers settled back into the rhythm of the sea, the boat floated peacefully once more. Stan returned to his deck chair while Ford resumed his notes, still buzzing with excitement.

A sudden beep interrupted their calm. The video call device lit up, revealing the familiar faces of Mabel and Dipper on the screen.

“Uncle Stan! Uncle Ford! What’s happening?!” Mabel exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.

Dipper, ever the cautious one, leaned closer. “Are you guys safe? We saw something weird on the news about a giant sea creature!”

Stan waved casually at the screen, trying to act nonchalant. “Just another day at sea!”

Ford leaned in, gesturing dramatically. “We encountered a kraken, and I think we’ve formed a bond!”

Mabel gasped, her eyes sparkling with wonder. “A kraken?! Can we keep it?”

“Uh, no!” Dipper facepalmed, shaking his head. “Mabel, it’s a giant monster!”

As they said goodnight to their great niece and nephew and they prepared to go to continue their journey, just below in the tranquil waters surrounding the Stan-O-War II, the brothers began to relax when a shadow passed beneath the boat again. Then came there was a sudden tap beneath the boat, making it jut forward, hinting that their day was far from over.

“Uh, Ford?” Stan said nervously, his heart racing once more. “I think we might not be done with our ‘friend’ yet…”

---

#fanfic #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #stanford pines #stanley pines #stan twins #headcanons

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fionamooore · 13 days

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connections / pinterest / mobile navigation

[fiona moore. 26. cis woman. she/her] is here! they’ve lived in asbury park for [five months] and are originally from [mclean, virginia]. they are a [podcaster] and love [reading] and [beach running]. they look like [kaia gerber] and live on [pine street]. the song reminds me of them is [whore by in this moment].

personality overview:

+ charismatic, visionary, responsible, empathetic - calculating, distrustful, hypocritical, self-conscious when it comes to fiona, there’s really no in between. you’ll either find her absolutely delightful or unbelievably unbearable. commanding a room comes second nature to her, and her confident aura could lead someone to believe that she’s got it all figured out; but, much of it, is just a carefully crafted facade.

family history:

married in 1996, david and allison moore met while working as interns in washington, dc. the couple welcomes twins, finn and fiona in 1998 and allison gives up her career to raise their children. over the years, david becomes one of the most prominent financial consultants in the industry, earning the moores' high-profile connections. wanting the best for their children, the couple settles in mclean, va, a wealthy suburb outside of dc, where they have since become influential figures in the community.

about fiona:

fiona grew up in an affluent suburb, but she wasn’t your typical privileged child. her dissonance started at six years old on a field trip to the national zoo. for the first time, she saw a unhoused person, hunched over on a park bench. unlike the unbothered adults who passed by without a second thought, fiona couldn’t help but stare. the contrast between the idyllic life she led and this person’s reality would fuel her mission for social justice. at the age of ten, she spearheaded fundraisers; by thirteen, she was organizing charity events; and by sixteen, she had written her first set of policy initiatives. it comes as no surprise when fiona’s voted most likely to succeed in her senior year. her path is clear to anyone who knows her– go study at an ivy and run for office. and she does just that, choosing to study political science at princeton. debate and policy come as naturally as breathing, making her a standout student. after graduation, the next step in her ten-year plan is to attend law school. however, the harsh realities of the legal system quickly shatter her sense of idealism– technicalities over justice, pragmatism over principle. it all begins to take its toll and in her second year at columbia law, she drops out and returns to her parents’ home in virginia. after some encouragement from her brother, fiona launches a political commentary podcast called nasty woman. the podcast becomes an overnight sensation after only four episodes, thanks to a friendly algorithm and an impassioned rant about roe v. wade. ever since then, fiona has been gen z’s favorite political news source. propelled by her success, she moves back to new york city to reconnect with her best friend from college, who joins her as a co-host of nasty woman (now nasty women). but, after her brother's stint in rehab, the best friends decide to temporarily relocate to asbury park to support him during his outpatient treatment.

tldr:

fiona has enough charisma to captivate crowds. effortlessly connecting with others comes easy, but her sharp wit and unapologetic opinions can be a double-edged sword. growing up, fiona internalized the need for perfection. however, if you're able to get past the facade, you'll discover fiona can be both playful and compassionate. after high school, fiona attended princeton to study political science, even spending two years at columbia law before ultimately dropping out. with her brother's support, she launches a political podcast that becomes an overnight success. she's now in asbury, to try and provide him the same kind of support.

#asburyintro #pinned #lets plot okpls

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opinions-about-tiaras · 10 months

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I think it's okay for people to be disappointed and feel misled and maybe even a little upset Scott Pilgrim Takes Off wasn't a more straightforward adaptation.

It's a masterwork as a piece of media, of course; a AU-that's-also-a-sequel based on both the movie AND the graphic novels, in dialogue with both, telling a tight, near-flawless story with immaculate animation and voice acting that, quite frankly, often makes the 2010 movie look poorly directed. (Tony Oliver is getting a LOT more out of these people in the booth than Edgar Wright managed to in front of the camera, frankly.)

And that's part of the problem, I think.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World oozed charm out of every shot; it's beloved by everyone who worked on it, which is always a good sign. But as an adaptation it was flawed in ways that were inevitable. Sacrifices had to be made to fit all six graphic novels that are deliberately messy and are meant as separate narrative arcs into something that runs on the big screen in less than two hours.

That meant a lot had to go missing. The original graphic novels were often leisurely rom-coms where they weren't stark, raw looks at emotional dysfunction, and a big part of their structure was the secondary and supporting cast. A lot of that had to go. Knives entire arc was cut to the bone. Stephen Stills being a hot mess and his weird and hilarious offscreen gay awakening went into the trash. The heart of Volume Four (still the best volume FIGHT ME), Lisa Miller's instigating presence, junked. Roxie Richter and the Katayanagi Twins are reduced basically to jokes. Envy Adams is given just enough to be a villain but none of what she needed to be a real person, which is a big deal in the comics. Even Gideon gets short shrift; the emotional violations and the dark, stinking, malign weaponization of emotional headspace that make him work in the comics are thrown aside in favor of him being a more straightforward supervillain using mind control chips.

And of course the biggest person to get shanked was Kim Pine. Kim had a storyline of quiet desperation, of seeking intimacy while being desperately terrified of it, romantic and sexual awakenings she isn't equipped to handle, deep and personal betrayals almost every volume that she nonetheless perseveres through. That had to go as well.

When I heard there was an animated adaptation coming, I was thrilled that I would finally get to see all of that rendered onto the screen. Scott Pilgrim was born to be an animated series more than it ever was live-action (and it's been proven multiple times over the past five years especially that animation can produce something wildly special when adapting a comic source handled properly) and it was finally going to have the breathing space to do it RIGHT.

Only it isn't that at all.

I wouldn't trade Scott Pilgrim Takes Off for the more straightforward adaptation we were expecting. The series has sunk its hooks deep into my brain, it's like I'm 29 again, driving my terrible, jank-ass car five hours to Toronto to attend the release party of the final volume. There's so much special about it; Knives and Kim's beautiful love duet is one of the most tender, pure things I've ever seen. The League of Evil Exes as a bumbling cadre of weirdos. Everything to do with Roxie Richter.

But it also means that we're probably deeply unlikely to get that more straightforward adaptation anytime soon. And that makes me feel like something has been lost.

And I respect the feelings of those who are disappointed and upset by it. Especially given that the marketing for Scott Pilgrim Takes Off was deliberately deceptive. I think that's a valid way to feel.

#bryan lee o'malley #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim

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wangxianficfinder · 1 year

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Fic Finder

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1. Hello! Looking for a Wangxian fic where WWX + JZX + JYL are reincarnated (or time travel? not sure) to modern times and slowly remember their past lives. Wei Wuxian somehow transports LWJ to modern times, angst and misunderstandings happen, and the ending is they go back to the past/their original times. I know it's a completed fic, and Jin Zixuan is like the main narrator? Still racking my brain but this has been driving me crazy

FOUND? atlas in his sleepin' by anatheme (E, 48k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Reincarnation, Family Reunions, Dimension Travel, temporary transmigration, Transmigrator!LWJ, Yunmeng Shuangjie Reconciliation, jzx motherhenning wwx, First Time, Sharing Clothes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies)

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2. hello! thank you guys for your hard work, if it's okay, for the next fic finder i'm looking for a fic where wangxian is established and they think ayuan died on a night hunt (eaten by a monster i think). jc goes to find his body but can't if i remb correctly. also in the end ayuan isn't dead and turns up after a few days. thank you! @bi-bi-bitteraf

FOUND! I think the fic is Setting Of The Sun by heartsdesire456 (M, 8k, wangxian, character death, or is it, grief/mourning, child loss, heavy angst)

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3. Hi! I've been loving scrolling through your fic recs. I've been looking for this one wangxian fic and I can't find it and it's driving me CRAZY. It's post sunshot campaign, where wei wuxian is still in lotus pier with his siblings. He sleeps with lan zhan in a tavern, but in the morning lan zhan acts shocked and leaves (it turns out he was drunk and didn't remember the night before and thought he forced himself on wwx). Cue protective Jiang siblings. If you could help, that would be AMAZING!!!

FOUND? could you find a way to let me down slowly, if you’re leaving baby let me down slowly by ravenditefairylights (M, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Implied/Referenced Sex, Miscommunication, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Hurt WWX, Mutual Pining, Unreliable Narrator, Self-Esteem Issues, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Protective Siblings, Trauma, Slightly dubious consent, courtesy of drunk sex, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Phoenix Mountain, Chronic Pain, Getting Together, Fix-It of Sorts, One Braincell Trio, PTSD)

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4. Hi I’m looking for a fic that has Jiang Cheng pulling Wei WuXian up from the cliff after Wen Chao throws him off of it. I can’t remember if it’s a time travel fic or if he just wakes up from the surgery early and rushes after them. He ends up getting his arm cut off when pulling Wei Ying up but then goes on to be a badass in the war. Jiang Cheng does end up with Lan Xichen as well

FOUND? Yearning for Miles by Murahi (M, 378k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, Mutual Pining, seeing the future)

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5. Hi! I was wondering if you could help me find a fic that I've read a few months ago. Wei Wuxian was never adopted by the Jiangs and he ended up living on the streets. He isn't a cultivator either and work for the emperor instead. I remember the emperor wanting WWX marry his daughter half way through the story. I apologise if I can't describe much but its been a while since I've read it and the details are a bit foggy. @galaxiastarblr

FOUND? Copying Scriptures by chiyukimei (E, 31k, WangXian, Genius WWX, Palace, background ningsang, canon wangxian dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, LWJ Bites, LWJ is the baby of the Lan Clan, Good Uncle LQR, WangXian are parents, Fluff, Blood and Injury, Self-Harm)

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6. Hello~ For the next fic finder I'm looking for this wangxian modern au fic. Established relationship and there's also background xuanli. I don't remember exactly how but a-yuan dies and the fic deals with what happens after (a-yuan is a toddler in the fic). Wwx takes it very badly but they slowly start to heal. I would be really really glad if you could find it for me! Thank you and have a nice day ♡ @vntaebun

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7. Can anyone in mdzs fandom link me to a fic? It’s a wangxian Hades AU where wwx gives up his godhood and agrees to stay in the underworld, but hears his sister is in danger and he tries to break out of the underworld over and over again. LWJ is the god of death and keeps meeting him. I think it’s called “Who cares when they’re gone” by a camellia alice but I cannot find it on AO3 for the life of me! @sothisiswhyiamhere

FOUND! who cares when you’re gone by camellialice (M, 22k, WangXian, Hades (Video Game) Fusion, Canon-Typical Levels of Self-Sacrifice, Canon-Typical Levels of Spitting Up Blood, Canon-Typical Levels of Pining)

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8. Hi. I'm looking for a fic where LZ was a doctor (ER I think) and WY was an IT/programmer specialist (he worked for the nies?) and gave music lessons at elementaries and kindergartens. They met when LZ was late to pick LY up and WY stayed behind to look after LY. Also at one piont WY got sick with strep I think.

FOUND? Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, wangxian, modern, slow burn, kid fic, found family, it gets worse before it gets better, PTSD, blood and injury, dissociation, trauma, angst w happy ending, musicals, alternating pov, JC & WWX reconciliation, hurt/comfort, panic attacks)

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9. hi! i hope the mods are doing great :)) i really need help looking for a fic, i'm pretty sure it's a time travel au where before they were transported to the past, both wwx and lwj apparently dies on a night hunt together. I remember there was a chapter wher lsz was already grown up and has his own family. he held wangxian's funeral along with his siblings that wangxian adopted along the way. I swear i found it here before but i completely lost it again, thanks so much for your help !! @makkachiin

FOUND? Could be Time Charm by Jenrose (E, 141k, wangxian, later queerplatonic LWJ/WWX/WQ, LXC/JGY/2nd Madam Mo, time travel fix-it, post-canon, everyone lives au, genius inventor WWX, BAMF wangxian, first time, pregnancy, childbirth, asexual character, aftermath of time travel, telepathic bond, slice of life)

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10. For FF: Can you help me find a fic of WWX having a child with NMJ? I'm certain I've read it before but now I have no clue if my brain just...made it up or not lol

It does involve WWX getting resurrected into MXY's body though. If I'm not wrong WWX had "memory issues" that leaves holes from his past ones, that's why he doesn't remember having a Nie/Wei baby until he's back from the ritual like maybe weeks after. He also asked NHS for helping him find the child tho and kind of created miscommunications everywhere with LWJ (he also got kind pissy because he thought WWX is leaving him for somebody else). One point in the story LXC got bodyslammed by the Nie/Wei kid into the mud, and that was funny as hell

I think it's a/b/o, WWX/NMJ (Past) and WWX/LWJ (present), ft. LSZ as the middleman for everything

FOUND? Broken Memories, Broken Sabers by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 43k, MingXian, WangXian, ZhuiLingYi, Dynamics, Mpreg, Past MingXian, Jealous LWJ, Protective NHS, Protective WN, Angst and Feels, Misunderstandings, Oblivious WWX)

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11. Looking for a fic where Wangxian starts dating because LWJ sent an anonymous ask to a Tumblr blog, which WWX saw. I think the blog was the xxx-culture-is type blog?

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12. If a may ask help finding a fic it would also help me a lot, is one where the juniors time travel to the sun shot campaign and go all "Oh, the sunshot campaing isnt important" and Mingjue like "not important?" And tje juniors: "nah, is what happens next the important thing" "another war" "yes!" "No!" ... "what do you mean Jin Ling? That wasnt a war!"

Anf thats all I remember; I'll be forever grateful if you could help me 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ @astarlith

FOUND? aim to repaint these days by NinthFeather (T, 2k, Time Travel Fix-It, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor, Sunshot Campaign, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

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13. I’m looking for a fic where Weiying and Mo Xuanyu are in a relationship, and they take Lanzhan to bed. Wy and mxy are like extensions of the same person, and wy is still utterly infatuated with lz. Rated E, I think. Thanks so much! @where-pansies-grow

FOUND? you and me alone by plonk (Not rated, 6k, wangxian, MXY/LJW/WWX, modern)

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14. There’s I fix I’ve been trying to find and I can’t find it anywhere 😭 wangxian dates when they’re in high school and Lan zhan’s uncle does not approve so he sends him away and tells him he will not be family anymore if he goes back to Wei Ying. Wei Ying breaks up with him and then 13 years later they find each other again when the lan institute hires Wei Yings company to change the school’s system or something. It is all I remember but I know it was really good. Please help!! 😭 @danbun-22

FOUND? Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 107k, WangXian, Modern AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romance, Persuasion au, Separations, Mutual Pining, Depression, Miscommunication, Emotional Roller Coaster, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Reconciliation, Eventual Smut, Jane Austen Fusion, Underage Kissing)

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15. Please help me find a fic, post cql, where lan wangji is in cold recess but is in contact with Wei Ying through letters. Cloud recess is attacked during a conference by local area bad people who oppose lan wangj’s ideals. He is injured and find a 2-3year old girl with high cultivation and hides/protects her in jingshi , Wei ying comes to his aid and fight off bad people! @dramaqueenrolf

FOUND! Rabbit Heart by Suaine (M, 56k, WangXian, during the separation in ep50, some animal cruelty (not committed by main characters), WWX adopts a puppy (YES I KNOW), Family Issues, Sexual Content)

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16. Hello! I was wondering if any of you know a fic where during the Cloud Recesses Arc, WWX was working on some arrays? And I think QHJ has been the one to help WWX with them since he himself specialised in arrays but I don't remember if it might have been a time travel fix-it or not, sorry that I don't have much details :( in the event of not knowing which fic this is, do you happen to know any fics where QHJ emerges from seclusion to be more proactive in the story without him being portrayed negatively? Thank you for all your help, have a good day, mods!

FOUND? the time traveling letter series by MichelleFeather (G, 26k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, LWJ & QHJ, Time Travel Fix-It, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Sad LWJ, Genius WWX, QHJ Lives, Parents WangXian, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, First Meetings, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Wangxian say 'fuck it' and leave the cultivation world, Requited Love, Not LXC Friendly, Not LQR Friendly, kind of, Good Father QHJ, Angry LWJ, Married WangXian, Established WangXian, LWJ & WWX Are LSZ's Parents, QHJ Lives, Good Father QHJ, WangXian Wedding, Sunshot Campaign, Abusive Jiang Family, Jiang Family Dynamics, Not JFM & YZY Friendly, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Kinda) in it QHJ emerges from seclusion to be more proactive and in the second story he uses arrays

FOUND? The Tamed by Escheria (T, 459k, WangXian, LWJ/XZ, WYB/WWX, YiZhan, WIP, YLLZ WWX, The Untamed (TV) References, Overpowered WWX,XZ is WWX, Canon Divergence, Transmigration, Isekai, Demonic Cultivation, Genius WWX, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff, Soulmates) the search for QHJ and him being a master of the CR Arrays, i am 99% sure, its The Tamed, the huge story that is at 460,000 words and ongoing its this story, from chapter 56 ff on, he appears at the end, WWX and QHJ, they both bond over the arrays, that they created to protect CR.

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17. hello! for the next fic finder, can you guys help me find this fic where wwx is in lan sect after sunshot with lan qiren researching about something (i forgot if lqr knew about his core, i think they're're searching scrolls abt cores, idk) then there's a specific scene where they accused wwx on putting the hundred holes curse, then i think someone demanded that wwx should open his robes. lan qiren defended him that wwx is with him that past few days and that he's not the one who put the curse.

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18. Hello! Can you help me find the fic where Wei Ying is a secret heir. He has fake identity, I think to protect him. Lan Zhan found him in an event. Wwx is bestfriends with Nhs and some of them thought that they're in a relationship. Wwx is cousins with Jiang Cheng, he sometimes the pretend boyfriend of Wwx. Uncle four is also there, as bodyguard of Wwx. There's also a scene where Lxc is worried that his baby brother got a boyfriend and he investigate who Wwx is with the help of Nhs. He is worried that Wwx only after the Lans money but he is more richer than them.

I dont know if this is one fic Wwx posted a post of his lips using Lan Zhan's account?

FOUND! Is My Brother Being Conned? by Director_XuanWu (T, 49k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Crack)

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19. Hi! I have request for fic finder! In this one Lwj is Wwx's neighbour and wc is Wwx's stalking ex. One day someone breaks into Wwx's house but it turns out to be Jc but they (Wwx and Lwj) had suspected the stalking ex.

That's all I remember, thanks!

FOUND? We Get To Have This by ImTaakofromTV (M, 35k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending, Wholesome, Neighbors, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Panic Attacks, Self-Worth Issues, Bunnies, past home invasion, Breaking and Entering, Learning to Trust Again, Light Misunderstandings)

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20. thank you - your recomendations help find new favorites!! I like your compilation posts too, but haven't been able to find a story i vaguely remember from years ago, when i was first discovering the Untamed. a modern fic, crossed with the Grave Robbers world - in it Wen NIng has a refuge on a mountain top, with gardens (and rabbits?) and he sort of hibernates there, waiting to reunite with Wei Ying. Zhang Quilin is curious about him, and makes it through his wards. this is all i remember!

FOUND! Wen Ning the Friendly Ghost by bookjoyworm (T, 17k, WN & ZQL, The Grave robber’s chronicles fusion, Implied/Referenced Pingxie (preslash), stories and legends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Courtesy of Xiaoge's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Childhood (nothing graphic), Zhang Qiling deserves friends who he won't outlive, and just yk in general, in which I take advantage of zql's hole-filled backstory, 5+1 Things)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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light-miracles · 7 months

Note

Please share some fav frelma moments or headcanons? The fandom is so quiet ahaha

Sure!

Canon from the books trilogy (spoilers duh) (shot out to my friend Clei for getting me the books)

1) When Daphne makes Velma accidentally admit she has a crush on Fred and her reaction is just 'Damn Velma I didn't know you were so traditional'

2) When they dance together in Shaggy's house in the second book

3) Fred shamelessly flirting by touching her hair at school and Velms' almost heart attack.

4) Really, Velma's pining in the books is delicious.

5) The almost kiss in the third book.

6) When Fred almost dies in that fire and Velma just starts to cry out of pure relief when she sees him alive

7) Fred telling the journalists next thing he's doing is asking 'the girl he likes' out when he leaves hospital.

8) Their last scene together at the end. Which lives rent free on my head. I even wrote a little continuation/expansion of that scene in a drabble.

(Overall, the books aren't perfect. The focus is Daphne and Velma's friendship and that means too little focus on Shaggy and Freddie. But it was absolutely worth it. It was like the best Frelma fanfic but actually canon in its verse. Clinging to those books forever)

Honorific mentions of other versions: the "DORKY CHICKS LIKE YOU TURN ME ON TOO" line in the live action (lmfao) (Linda Cardellini and Freddie Prinze's chemistry was awesome), Fred going all the way to show her he appreciates everything she does in Be Cool Scooby Doo, and their scenes together in The Mystery Begins. Also every moment they share the screen in 'Mystery Incorporated: Welcome to Coolsville'. That version of the characters was the best one in recent years.

Headcanons now:

1) Has anyone watched that animated short horror video parodying the totally awful Velma show? The one with eldritch monster Scooby? Yeah they're together the next time Scooby reboots reality. Both of them are aware of what's going on and try to scape the time loop (confusing if you don't know the story of the video 'Velma Meets The Original Velma' on YouTube, plz watch it)

2) Moving on to greener grasses, eventually they have twin boys, Ricky and Roger (named after Fred and Shaggy). Obviously Daphne and Shaggy are the godparents.

3) Shaggy let's them adopt 3 puppies from the Doo family years in the future.

4) Scrappy lived with them for some time. Velma was the only one who could boss him around. Fred spoiled him.

5) Velma sends him food to his work out of nowhere because sometimes she's sure he's forgotten to eat. He does the same plus flowers. Both of them are right: they forget to have dinner. Shaggy never shuts up about it.

6) (I usually go with Archeologist!Fred and Astronomer!Velms. They travel a lot) (The kids are homeschooled until they can leave for a boarding school)

7) Ricky and Roger are mama boys

8) Fred does the taxes. Velms always forgets.

9) Shaggy is a chef (duh) and Daphne a private detective and they're never too far away. Their kid is a little older than the twins but they hang out a lot. Sometimes Velma refers to Daphne as 'her sister' so the boys don't figure out Daphne isn't their 'actual aunt' until they're older.

10) Velma has a photo of him on her wallet. Fred is the little spoon.

#Pfff I'm always on my frelma train #All I need is a little push and I'll write endlessly about those dorks #Also watch Welcome To Coolsville they're everything there #And read the books they're totally worth it #Frelmas fandom is small but dedicated and my favorite place #Eventually I always come back to Scooby Doo #Bury me with the Frelma books in the coffin #I also ship the other 3 combinations but Frelma was the first one so it has a special place #scooby doo #Daphne and velma trilogy #Daphne and velma the Vanishing Girl #Daphne and Velma Dark Deception #Daphne and Velma Buried Secrets #I'll always thank C for getting me the last book #Frelma #velma dinkley #fred jones #shaphne

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pinesfamilyguidetotheweird · 10 months

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Fragmented AU -- The Cipher Zodiac Powers

Another thing that I was debating on to reveal, but I've decided to do so.

Proceed if you dare!!!

So, in Journal 3, Soos theorized that if they were successful in sealing/banishing/destroying Bill with the magic circle thing, they were all gonna get superpowers. A theory that Dipper didn't think was gonna happen.

Well, maybe not in Dimension 46'\.

But was made possible in Dimension 46-Delta, the version that the Fragmented AU takes place.

Perhaps due to a disturbance in the multiverse, the Cipher Ten was born with powers or would usually start to appear at around 13 years old. Whenever they use their powers, their eyes would glow a color. While they would share some specific ability, each of them have a unique power.

(I am using terms from the Superpower Wiki; one of my favs)

/////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Dipper -- Cyan -- Personal Energy

For any My Hero Academia fans, it's sorta similar to One for All in that a powerful energy generates and flows throughout Dipper's body. And I make the comparison because, in a way, Dipper reminds me of Izuku (nerdy characters, bullied, penchan for journaling, kinda talks out loud, deep idolization of their respective mentors...etc)

Mabel -- Magenta -- Imagination Manifestation

Couldn't think of any power better than this for a dreamer like Mabel. Now, granted, I was a little hesitant on giving Mabel this ability as it can easily be OP *Cough*GremmyfromBleach*Cough* coughing...However, I hopefully manage to come up with a limit. It depends on the scale of her imagination as well as her attention span and where she is.

(Note: Neither's powers manifested until the week of their 13th birthday.)

Stan -- Yellow -- Fire Generation/Manipulation

...I'm sure someone might make a connection of sorts. Also, blame @factual-fantasy for this (I love their AUs). Some back story time: as mentioned, some powers come around at birth, but for the Pines twins (both generations), theirs come later near the age of 13. So, Stan's powers manifested one day and he was surprised that the fire didn't really burn anything unless he willed it to. He wanted to show Ford, but decided to keep it a secret because...well he didn't want the bullying to get worse for both of them. It wouldn't be until later in life that Stan will show Ford, who has become aware of people with superpowers (ie, Fiddleford). Ford reacted... Well, Ford reacted in a way that Stan didn't expect and decided to not show it to him again. Interestingly enough, Ford had forgotten all about it, but Stan still remembers and refuses to let Ford see it again. He has a similar resolve to the kids due to what happened to their parents.

Ford -- Crimson -- ??? (Unknown)

As far as anyone is concerned, Ford hasn't shown signs of having any unique powers. Stan is curious, but figures that his high IQ is the power. Is that the case, or is it that he just doesn't have one? Or it just hasn't manifested yet, even into adulthood? Or maybe its because I have yet to make up my mind about what I want to give him? Who knows! lol

Soos -- Spring Green -- Stomach Storage

Only in the realm of cartoon logic would this make sense. Basically, Soos has access to a pocket dimension where he can store things via swallowing them whole and not chew it. Because if he does, it'll just go straight to his actual stomach. And while Soos is generally unbothered by it, the others took time to get used to it. And even then, it was still mildly unnerving to witness.

Wendy -- Amber -- Ice Generation/Manipulation

I originally wanted to give her something like super strength, but then I figured that it could just be a Corduroy trait. So, I gave her ice powers. There was a scrapped episode of Wendy getting weather-based powers and I am so curious as to what that would've entailed. Like, what was the story gonna be? How did she acquire that power? Would the episode reveal something about her mother?

Fiddleford -- Green -- Scanning

Whenever I get stumped on giving a character a power, I just take inspiration from their zodiac symbol. So, for Fidds, I just picked an ability called Scanning. He's like a human USB or 'data' storage of anything he sees, analyzing the data and information of anything not just technological and digital, but also biological, chemical and all that. He can also scan vitals (sort of like Baymax), which is proven to be useful when you have a friend who has a tendency to ignore his biological limitations.

(Note: I will say that both Fiddleford and Stan kept their powers a secret throughout their childhood and young adulthood, as one can imagine that once the word of their powers gets to the wrong person...well...things could've gotten bad for them.)

Pacifica -- Violet -- Animal Empathy

Another instance of me taking inspiration from the zodiac symbol. Not necessarily a Dr. Dolittle kind of thing, as she can't communicate directly with animals, but she can understand the animal's emotions and intentions. The same is said the other way around.

Robbie -- Gray/Silver -- Symphokinesis

I have seen four anime where singing/music is used in combat, Symphogear, Macross Frontier, One Piece, and Cross Ange, and I love it. I love music in general. So, Robbie can use this power via his own singing voice and guitar playing. Plus, he can expand the effect if he harmonizes with others through music. The effects and intensity of his powers usually lie in his intentions and emotions. After all, some say music speaks from the soul. From the heart.

Gideon -- Azure -- Telekinesis and Telepathy

Because why not? At least I didn't have to think too hard on what power to give the little menace. I'd imagine that with the amulet, he had very little limitations to what he can do with his telekinesis. But, since now it is his own power, it's very limited to what his mind can handle, which is surprisingly strong for a 10/11 year old. Remember: He's still a kid with kid-level emotions. Now, he can't read every mind and thought. Some mental walls are stronger than others and his telepathy usually works better on trusting/gullible/innocent people. Of course, it doesn't work on Ford for obvious reasons.

#gravity falls #stanford pines #grunkle ford #ford pines #stanley pines #grunkle stan #mabel pines #dipper pines #soos ramirez #wendy corduroy #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #pacifica northwest #robbie valentino #gideon gleeful #fragmented au

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applcrumbl · 1 year

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Joy Rider

Just Friends

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Original Female Character Warnings: Strong Language, Mention of abuse (no direct description, just in passing), Mention of ill mental health and suicidal thoughts, (again, only in passing), JJ just Pining over Avery. Word Count: 2K Author’s Note: please bare in mind that these are not chapters! You can read them however you like, skip the ones that don’t interest you etc. It’s okay not to read absolutely everything.

Summary: A glimpse into Arden and JJ’s friendship.

There is blue as far as she can see to one side, and the comforting scenes of Kildare island to the other. She can taste the salt from the ocean as it sprays her in its path up to the sandy shore. With it wafts the smell from the barbeque that her friends cook. She feels the cold water up to her knees, her inner thighs burning with friction from the board. Waves crash against sandy shores and the sound of gulls fly over her head. Arden sits on her board, back to the beach and once again in her own world.

It’s peaceful, relaxing, and exactly what she needs after a day out on the surf. The waves had died down now, so she only rocked gently on the water.

“Hey Denny,” John B shouts from the beach, tongs in hand like a proper BBQ dad, He calls louder, fighting against the sound of Kiara and Pope laughing, “Whaddya want? There’s a burger left?”

She doesn’t answer, not hearing the calls of her name from the coastline.

“Arden,” He tries again, to no avail, “Jesus Christ, will you go get her?”

“Why do I have to?” JJ asks, sipping his freshly opened beer, “I literally just dried off.”

“You’re still soaking wet.” Kiara deadpans, spooning coleslaw onto a paper plate.

JJ huffs and walks along the pier, handing his bottle to the girl before jumping off the end. He swims to Arden, hands clinging to her board for stabilisation.

JJ Maybank was a caring person, but never one that particularly showed it. He did everything for his friends, and would always be there for them, but he wouldn’t tell them that. He wouldn’t chase you up when you didn’t answer a message, but he would plan a stop past your house to invite you out. He wouldn’t specifically say to call him when you got home safe, but you’d know that you probably should.

It was different with her, his twin flame, his best friend. They’d grown up together, Arden living in the house next door to his. They were each other's first sleepover, first fight, first friend, first kiss - though Arden swears that hers was with Colton Ashby in the first grade.

She’d always been there, so there was no need for defensive JJ. She’d seen it all, and he’d seen all of her. Of course, there were secrets. She never knew how bad it got after his mother left, the bruises that littered his skin from the age of 13. He never knew about the nights she cried herself to sleep with the want to never wake up. But, neither of them felt like there was information lacking. They had one another, at any time, any place, any point.

He was more caring towards her than he ever had been towards the rest of the Pogues. And his opinions never changed when she moved from the cut to figure eight - despite his inherent hatred for the rich southern side of the island. He was happy that she’d crawled from the depths, and that her uncle had invited her to stay with him whilst her parents were gone. Gone where? Nobody knew. Yet Arden didn’t really care.

She was the glue that bound the group together. Without her, he never would have spoken to John B - much too territorial over his one best friend. If she hadn’t got her first job at Heywards, then Pope wouldn’t have been in the picture either. And even though he can’t quite remember how Kiara got involved, he’d happily put it down to Arden’s doing too. She was the exact definition of both a Kook and a Pogue.

He owed her everything, but she was the only person that he would ever let know that. But, even then his mouth kept shut.

“Foods ready,” he says, prodding her thigh on the open water, “time to come in.”

Her eyes don’t open, “Gimme 5 more Jayj”

“Dude, you’re literally turning into a prune,” he jokes, lifting her leg from the sea, toes wrinkled from the water, “Your age is finally catching up to the rest of us”

There were precisely 3 days of age between the pair of them, but JJ would never let her forget it. Probably because without her, then he’d be the youngest, and something about that just didn’t sit right with him.

“Stop, I'm gonna fall off my board,” She laughs, to which JJ makes a face, “Don’t-”

In one fell swoop, the blond lifts her leg higher, tipping over their buoyant aid, and knocking Arden into the water. She pops up from the depths, gasping for air.

He smirks, “I said it was time to go in”

The girl glowers at him, eyes thin and testing. She climbs back on the board and begins to paddle back to shore, leaving JJ in the sea.

“You can swim back yourself.” She shouts behind her.

“I don’t see what the problem is!”

“Of course, you don’t.”

“Then enlighten me, JJ.”

The Maybank boy scoffs, running his hand over an open jaw. “Colton Ashby?”

Arden doesn’t reply with words, instead an expression on her face. ‘Yeah, and?’ It reads, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide.

“He’s a Kook!”

“I’m a Kook?”

“You haven’t always been, you don’t count” He bats back her attempt to change the conversation topic, “I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Colton fucking Ashby. That is so dumb.”

Arden’s eyes roll so hard to the back of her head that it looks as though they may never come back around again. “Oh my god!” She exasperates, “It is not dumb! It’s sweet, and I’m excited to go.”

JJ sits on her barely-made bed. Her family circumstance may have changed, and he uncle may have provided a new life for her, but nothing about the girl had changed. She was still the same messy teenager that she’d always been. Arden grabs the dress laid out on her desk chair. She was never one for dresses on a casual day, but that night felt special. She wanted to put in the effort.

“He was my first kiss, y’know” she points out, sliding into her bathroom to slip into her outfit. “It’s like a full circle moment.”

“First of all, he wasn’t your first kiss. I was. Second of all-”

“You were not my first kiss, stop saying that!”

“Uh, yes I was. We were 4 and sat on your old tyre swing.”

The bathroom door opens, and Arden steps out, clothes in hand. She dumps them in the hamper next to her. “I smell bullshit.” She sits at the vanity direct from the bed, watching JJ in the mirror. He takes in her floaty dress, almost shocked to see her ins something so, girly.

“I smell truth-shit” He tries to counteract but fails miserably. “So many women would kill to say that they kissed me. You should really jump on that. Maybe you’d get a better date than Colton Ashby”

She stops her lipgloss application to eye him in the mirror. “This is really bothering you.” She observes, smacking her lips together and reapplying the cap.

“I don’t want my best friend running off with some Kook, just because he was her first kiss” He moans, throwing his body back onto her bed, “By that logic, you should be running away with me.”

‘Yeah and I’d bet you’d love that,” she replies, “Can you put this on me?

She holds out a necklace. Small, golden, expensive from afar. But, up close you could see where the colour was tarnishing, and the plastic seed dull. JJ had bought it for her 15th birthday. The first and only gift he’d actually bought her, not stolen. A cheap tourist shop shell pendant with a fake pearl in the middle. But Arden loved it.

And she was going to wear it on her date with one of the richest Kooks in Kildare.

JJ’s fingers struggle with the clasp for a while before it finally hooks to the small chain link. Arden adjusts the pendant on her chest, making sure it lines up perfectly with the V-neckline of her dress. She stands to observe herself in the mirror. “This is fine, right? We’re not going anywhere too fancy I think”

He can only stutter a response, still taken aback by the fact that she’s actually still going. Taken aback by the fact that she’s put effort into the way she looks, for him. There is a hint of jealousy too, but he swiftly ignores it. “Yeah, you, uh- You look great.”

“Man of many words, Jayj”

The date was fine, not that Arden was avoiding another opportunity to go out with the dark-haired boy, but not that she was gasping for one either. It was simply an experience that she had and one that she probably wouldn’t ask for again.

Colton was nice, he paid for their food, he picked her up and dropped her home. He even complimented her looks several times throughout the night. She was extremely flattered - but there was nothing else there.

You can really tell when you’re not into someone, because it doesn’t matter how kind they’re being, or attractive they are, or if you have boatloads in common, you will still only notice the negatives. And they will still be made much bigger than they actually are. You will still ‘get the ick’

Arden hated the shoes he wore. They were too polished and clean. He had loose hair sticking from his gelled-back quiff. She didn’t like that he ordered wine for the table. He mentioned JJ’s necklace, and how it looked like it was a little past its prime. Albeit, this was his way of flirting - offering to buy her a brand new, more expensive one - but everything just rubbed Arden the wrong way.

“So I doubt you’re meeting him again?” Kiara questioned, using the tree as an anchor to rock the hammock they were both laying in.

“Yeah, definitely not.” Arden sighs, “Should’ve kept him as my first kiss and no more”

“JJ will be happy then.” Pope pipes up from the camping chair next to the hammock. His flat-brimmed cap was pulled down over his eyes to shield him from the sun.

Kie shoots him a look with her eyes that Arden misses, it’s a shock that Pope catches it.

“How do you mean?”

Pope stutters, ”I just mean that he’s quite territorial,” His words are danced around, like he has more to say - but won't, “He likes his time with you, and a boyfriend would take that time away.”

Arden exhales through her nose, “Yeah, I suppose.”

A loud smash erupts from inside The Chateau, causing the three to jump. John B shouts out not to worry, and that JJ had just dropped a mug. They return back to the conversation.

“Man, that’s Arden’s favourite mug - she’s going to kill you” John B continues, directly to his friend, “You’re supposed to be courting the girl, not pushing her away”

“I’m not courting her, we’re just friends!” JJ exclaims, kneeling to pick up the broken shards of ceramic. Though John B was right on one thing, this was Arden’s favourite mug. “I’ve literally known her my whole life, it’s not like that”

“Are you sure? Cos, her date pissed you off a whole lot”

“Ashby’s just a dick. She can do better.” He explains, “Besides, the date didn’t even go well. She told me.”

A horn honks twice from outside, catching John B’s attention. He looks through the dusty panes of the window to see who it is.

“Is that why he’s just come to pick her up?”

JJ pushes past him, eager to get a glimpse from the window. John B laughs at him as Kiara climbs into the passenger seat of her mother’s car. JJ kisses his teeth, “Ha. Ha. Funny”

“Y’know for someone who is strictly friends with the girl, you sure care a lot about her being with anyone that isn’t you.”

A feminine voice calls his name from outside, and JJ jumps at the opportunity to answer it, practically sprinting outside at her back and call.

“And will jump to her every move.” He observes, speaking only to himself.

masterlist | taglist

#applcrumbl #writing #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank angst #outer banks #Joy Rider

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watchmenanon · 2 years

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THE ‘STRANGER THINGS’ BOYS ARE OUR ‘NYLON GUYS’ SEPTEMBER 2017 COVER STARS

If anyone understands the sudden shift from “not fitting in” to “one-million-plus followers,” it’s these guys.

The following feature appears in the September 2017 issue of NYLON Guys.

Finn Wolfhard just couldn’t resist. Despite needing to be camera-ready for his NYLON photo shoot, the 14-year-old star of Stranger Things decided to suck on a blue Warhead anyway, and now he’s paying the price. “All these sets have candy on them, and I can’t help myself. It was a mistake,” he admits, sheepishly trying to scrub the cerulean stain from his tongue with a miniature toothbrush. To his right, Gaten Matarazzo wears a gray T-shirt that reads, uh oh! did my sarcasm hurt your feelings?, a slogan worthy of Dustin Henderson, the lovable wisecracker he plays opposite Wolfhard on the hit Netflix show. Matarazzo, also 14, is getting his trademark tangle of curls straightened, much to the delight of Noah Schnapp, who, at 12, is the youngest in this group of breakout stars that has helped make Stranger Things the most obsessed-over show in Netflix’s boundless roster of original series. Missing is Caleb McLaughlin, the energetic 15-year-old who plays Lucas Sinclair, but he’s on his way over in a black car, having just arrived from Los Angeles, fresh off an appearance at the BET Awards.

It’s the first time the boys have been together in several weeks, and none of them can pinpoint exactly when they were last in the same room. Ever since Stranger Things became a cultural phenomenon last summer, they’ve been swept up in a whirlwind of red carpets, talk shows, and fan conventions. And as the premiere of the sci-fi and horror fantasia’s top-secret second season nears, this summer has been overtaken by a flurry of promotional duties. Next week, while most kids their age are cooling off in pools or testing out the latest in roller coaster technology, Matarazzo and McLaughlin will be at Denver Comic Con, signing autographs and posing for selfies with wide-eyed fans. A few weeks after that, all four will find themselves inside the hallowed Hall H at San Diego Comic-Con, where they’ll premiere the thrilling trailer for Season 2 to rapturous applause.

But on this day, even though they’re technically at work, the boys still find time to goof off. They are, after all, best friends—like brothers, even, they say—and there’s a lot of catching up to do, memes to be shared, and jokes to be cracked. “We used to call Noah ‘Señor Biebs,’” Matarazzo offers at one point, due to Schnapp’s Season 1 bowl cut and its resemblance to the former haircut of a certain Canadian pop star. “He hates it!” he says, just before he sticks his finger into Schnapp’s ear (playfully, of course).

Inside the bright and breezy photo studio on Manhattan’s West Side, publicists abound, but because these budding stars are still minors, there are also parents. It’s an unusual sight, and a reminder that despite having very grown-up jobs, they’re still not old enough to drive. Wolfhard, the Vancouver native who plays Mike Wheeler, is here with his father, as is Matarazzo, who hails from Little Egg Harbor Township, New Jersey. Schnapp and his parents came in from Westchester County, north of the city. When McLaughlin, who grew up in Carmel, New York, finally arrives lugging a suitcase that’s almost as big as he is, he’s accompanied by his father, a burly man in an Atlanta Braves cap who goes around the room with his son hugging the other parents, a reminder of how tight the makeshift family has become since this odyssey began more than two years ago.

Stranger Things premiered as an underdog. Its creators, the twin brothers Matt and Ross Duffer, were unproven talents who had previously written for the Fox sci-fi series Wayward Pines. Except for Winona Ryder’s comeback as a grieving mother searching for her missing son, the cast was composed largely of unknowns and newcomers. But thanks to its double dose of supernatural intrigue and a nostalgic ’80s-tinged glow, along with a miraculous performance by a young British actress with a shaved head, Stranger Things quickly commandeered the pop-culture conversation in a way that few shows have done. In July, the show received a staggering 18 Emmy nominations, including Outstanding Drama Series.

Created by the Duffers in the spirit of the Amblin-era entertainments they were raised on, the eight-episode first season is set in 1983 in Hawkins, Indiana, and unravels the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Will Byers, played by Schnapp, who vanishes in the first episode after an encounter with the show’s resident boogeyman, the otherworldly creature known as the Demogorgon. As Will’s three misfit best friends—Mike, Lucas, and Dustin—embark on a quest to find him, they uncover an alternate dimension they dub The Upside Down, and a sinister government conspiracy that may be responsible for opening it. They also befriend Eleven, the feral girl with telekinetic powers embodied iconically by 13-year-old Millie Bobby Brown.

Stranger Things began filming its second season under very different circumstances than the first. What once felt like a scrappy production free of scrutiny from outside sources suddenly had the mood and atmosphere of a major Hollywood blockbuster. “Netflix knew it would be a good show,” McLaughlin says, “but they didn’t realize how big it would be and that the whole world was going to freak out about it.” Because of that intense interest from both the network and the public, the set suddenly had a noticeable security presence shielding it from nosy onlookers and paparazzi, while network executives showed up to make sure their prized racehorse was galloping along. Suddenly, there were expectations. “We raised the bar pretty high with the first season,” says Matarazzo. “There was a lot more tension on set, in that we really needed to make sure it was good.”

When Season 2 premieres on October 27, a year will have passed since Eleven sacrificed herself to defeat the faceless Demogorgon and save the boys, in the Season 1 finale. Trying to squeeze spoilers out of Wolfhard, McLaughlin, Schnapp, and Matarazzo is useless. Extensive media training, including detailed notes on what they can and can’t discuss, have transformed them into a rare breed: teenagers who can keep a secret. What they can say: Season 2 is bigger, darker, and scarier. There’s also a new character in town, played by Sadie Sink. (According to the Duffers, Millie Bobby Brown was “relieved” to have another girl on set.) “She’s a skater, sort of a punk girl, and she slowly becomes part of the group,” says Wolfhard, who also says his character will be depressed and “a loner” in the wake of Eleven’s disappearance. What they can’t say: pretty much everything else. But it’s not just scoop-hungry journalists who harass them for info. “Whenever you get recognized by fans, most of the time they ask you if you’ve got any spoilers for Season 2, and I’m like, ‘No, none, not at all,’” says Matarazzo. “It’s definitely kind of stressful.”

One of the biggest changes for the new season is the expansion of Schnapp’s screen time. Because his character spends much of the first season trapped in an alternate dimension, Schnapp spent a good deal of time at home in New York while everyone else filmed in Atlanta. “Last year I would drive up to the studio and everyone would be like, ‘Hey, Noah, we’ve missed you! How’ve you been?’” says Schnapp. “This year was a lot easier because last year, I’d have to go in and out of school, and that was hard. This year I could focus.”

Although he’s rescued from The Upside Down, we last saw Schnapp removing a slithery creature from his mouth, a telltale sign that not all is well with Will Byers. For Schnapp, whose character mostly communicated through Christmas lights in Season 1, the new episodes meant new challenges as an actor. “Shawn Levy, one of our directors, was telling me, ‘Noah, you have something really big this season. We have a lot in store for you, and you should get really excited,’” he says. Schnapp felt the added pressure, and would sometimes text his TV mom, Ryder, for extra help with particularly emotional scenes. “We knew we needed a strong actor in case the series moved forward into a second season, because we knew he was going to be a centerpiece,” says Matt Duffer. “We needed not just a good actor, but a really, really good actor.” Schnapp rose to the occasion, according to the Duffers. “Shawn [Levy] was like, ‘We’ve had a Ferrari sitting in the garage all of Season 1, and now the fucking garage doors are open.’”

The Duffers knew that casting child actors, who have a tendency to favor exaggerated performances over naturalistic ones, would make or break their show. “There’s really nothing worse than a bad child performance,” Ross Duffer says. “You couldn’t have any weaknesses, or the eight hours would be excruciating.” Along with their casting director, the Duffers saw what they estimate to be 900 kids, an undertaking they say was easier than it sounds because they could tell within the first few minutes if the actor had what they needed. “You’re looking for something authentic, and most kids don’t have it,” says Ross. “There are the ones that are obviously well-trained, but they feel too Disney, like they’re winking at the camera.” What the Duffers found with their four young male stars were kids who seemed like actual kids.

Matarazzo was the first one cast, his audition so impressive that he found out he got the part on the way back from the airport. “We didn’t really even know who the Dustin character was until we found Gaten,” says Matt Duffer. “He was sort of a generic nerd with glasses. He was a stereotype.” Matarazzo, whose sense of humor inspired the Duffers to transform Dustin into the show’s primary source of comic relief, has grown up with a condition known as cleidocranial dysplasia, which stunts the development of bones and teeth. “We wanted to make a show about outsiders, about kids who didn’t fit in and who were bullied and made fun of,” says Matt. “Gaten was really able to tap into all of that.”

McLaughlin and Matarazzo had known each other from their days as stars in two of Broadway’s biggest shows. Matarazzo portrayed Gavroche in Les Misérables, and McLaughlin played Simba in The Lion King. They’d often see each other in a park frequented by “Broadway kids,” as Matarazzo calls them. “When I found out Caleb had gotten Lucas I was like, ‘Caleb? Where do I know that name from?’” he recalls. Wolfhard and Schnapp established an early connection, too—sort of. “He doesn’t remember me, but I remember him,” Wolfhard says. “Because I asked him what other projects he had done, and he said, ‘I was the voice of Charlie Brown in The Peanuts Movie.’ I was like, ‘What?! You’re Charlie Brown?’ I was so pysched about that.”

Although they had all crossed paths during the audition process, usually around the hotel pool or at chemistry reads, it wasn’t until they arrived in Atlanta to begin production that all four boys, along with Millie Bobby Brown, found themselves together in the same room for the first time. If there was a first-day-of-school feel, it made sense: They met in a classroom, which is where the young cast of Stranger Things still spend most of their time when they’re not filming. That grueling schedule means the only opportunities they get to really mess around are between takes, and sometimes during them. “We have laughing problems,” says McLaughlin. Matt Duffer elaborates: “We definitely have an issue, where we can’t get through a take without someone busting up. They’re always making each other crack up—the number of takes ruined by laughter is in the hundreds.”

Schnapp was at summer camp when Stranger Things dropped on Netflix. He wasn’t allowed to have his phone, but shortly after the series premiered, one of his counselors happened to check his Instagram account—80,000 followers. The next day it was 85,000. “I was like, ‘Wait, what’s going on?’ I think I was at one follower before that,” Schnapp says. Wolfhard also remembers that odd rush of watching his followers skyrocket and realizing his life was changing right in front of his eyes. McLaughlin felt his anonymity evaporate the first time he was recognized. “In L.A., this kid came up to me and was like, ‘Hey, are you Caleb Reginald McLaughlin?’” he says. “And I’m like, ‘What? You know my middle name? That’s nuts.’”

The connection between the boys is strengthened by the surreal turn their lives have taken, circumstances that most kids their age can’t relate to. When Matarazzo, McLaughlin, and Wolfhard met Barack Obama last October, as guests of the White House’s South by South Lawn festival, the former president, who’s a fan of the show, told them he especially enjoyed their on-screen camaraderie. That bond exists offscreen, too, and has only gotten stronger with every award show and panel. “They really are my best friends,” Matarazzo says. “We can relate to each other a lot more than other people can. People try to understand everything that goes on, but they can’t unless they’ve been there.”

“I don’t think any of the kids would say that our friendship is similar to the friendships they have back home, because it’s not,” says Wolfhard. “No kid has ever really had an experience that I’m experiencing right now—it’s a unique sort of friendship.”

Wolfhard is careful not to bring his work home with him. “If you go home and all you talk about is acting, then you’re a douchebag,” he says. “Your friends don’t want to hear about your professional life, they just want to mess around.” Plus, when you’re 14 years old, talking about work is never cool, even if it involves facing off against a faceless interdimensional demon. The boys are also learning that with a great number of Instagram followers comes great responsibility. “We have to be more cautious with what we say on social media and in public,” says McLaughlin, who was shocked to lose followers after he openly rooted for the Golden State Warriors during the NBA playoffs.

While Netflix has yet to make an official announcement, a third season of Stranger Things is a given, meaning the boys are all but guaranteed to live out their teenage years on one of the most popular shows on television. The Duffers, then, will have to follow in the footsteps of long-running properties like Game of Thrones and the Harry Potter franchise in making sure their child actors don’t grow up faster than their characters. “It’s terrifying,” Matt Duffer says. “I shouldn’t even be highlighting this, but if you watch Season 2, they’ve grown from Episode 1 to Episode 9. I’m terrified one of them is going to have a major growth spurt basically in the middle of shooting. But as long as they’re growing outside of the course of our shooting, I’m not too worried about it, because we just have to build it into our story. As much as you would like to keep some of it more continuous, every time we take a break between seasons, we have to make a year time jump at least.”

All four actors say that they want to remain in show business into adulthood. Wolfhard, who obsessively studies the filmmaking process while on set—he’ll star in the remake of Stephen King’s It, in theaters this month—is eyeing a multihyphenate career as a director, actor, and musician. Back at the photo shoot, Matarazzo and Schnapp gather around his iPhone to watch a video Wolfhard co-directed for a friend’s band, Spendtime Palace. Earlier this year, McLaughlin, who is a trained dancer, played a young Ricky Bell on the BET miniseries The New Edition Story, an experience he describes as “historic.” Matarazzo wants to continue acting, but not forever, and is keeping an open mind about other aspects of the industry. Schnapp, who took his first acting class at the age of six, describes winning the Screen Actors Guild Award for Outstanding Performance by an Ensemble in a Drama Series as one of the greatest moments of his life, and is doing exactly what he wants. (The boys, who describe the awards as “very heavy,” keep them in their bedrooms, except for Matarazzo, who has been meaning to retrieve his from his grandparents’ house. )

“They all love what they’re doing,” says Matt Duffer. “They love coming to set, they love working, they love acting. In terms of the fame thing, it’s a side effect that I think some of them are more into than others. You’re worried about, ‘What if they realize this isn’t their true passion?’ They’re so young. But this year those fears went away. They’re all very committed to this. That’s the important thing, that they enjoy what they’re doing. And that they’re passionate about it.”

#noah schnapp #will byers #finn wolfhard #mike wheeler #caleb mclaughlin #lucas sinclair #gaten matarazzo #dustin henderson #st articles #byler #<target audience

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ryverbind · 1 year

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Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: If You Miss Me, Say Hello-- If You Want Me, Then Say So [15.2]

Sal's Lore (Part One)

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A/N::: Step Out From The Inside and Say Goodnight by Bullet For My Valentine are really good songs that scream Sal for this chap if you want to give it a try <3

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Sal was a bitter, revenge-driven soul by the time he turned eighteen. He had fought off his wrathful demons for years, but he could only keep them at bay for so long. In fact, to this day, he remembers the turning point for him like it was yesterday. The day he stopped the war being waged in his mind.

It was cool in Nockfell, a bit chilly. October. Halloween was just around the corner. The city was just like it always was and is-- trapped in an eternal autumn where the trees are always dead, the leaves are always crunchy, the air is always crisp, and the unique scent of Granny Smith's mixed with freshly carved pumpkins was a constant.

Nockfell was stagnant. It never changed. It wasn't much and the population was so small that it was technically Nockfell Village, but one thing that no one could deny was that it was beautiful and had its interesting points.

Sal had just finished his classes for the day-- it was nearly three in the afternoon on a Friday. There was supposed to be a bonfire down at Wendigo Lake once the sun went down. The bonfire happened on this day every year. It was a Nockfell tradition to ring in the official start of their pumpkin harvest.

Pumpkins were an important part of Nockfell's rich history. Just as sugarcane harvests are something to celebrate in Louisiana and California has their lemon festivals, pumpkins were Nockfell's thing. Wendigo Lake's Annual Pre-Harvest Bonfire was important; always happened the night before the city's Pumpkin Festival.

Everyone was prepared with pumpkins littering every inch of open space possible, so the afternoon was a breath of fresh air to Sal. It was nostalgic. It was the part of his childhood he preferred, the part that wasn't so tragic.

Sal trudged home in his new pair of cornflower blue-colored Converse. His original pair had long worn away by this point, but he found another pair to replace them.

He was alone, gaze glued to the world of orange and yellow around him. All the big white houses with their wide porches looking like props from horror movies. He half expected Michael Myers to pop out of a bush. The Halloween decorations on display only helped to liven up his imagination. What he wouldn't give to have a moment with Michael Myers over their shared masks.

Children were beginning to return home now, too. They would shoot off of their buses and run straight to leaf piles that were freshly raked up by their busy fathers. Sal watched a pair of twins scatter the dead leaves all over the ground again, only for a man to stomp around the corner of his home to yell at his children for pushing his work back.

But again, Sal was alone and he couldn't have been more aware of it. It wasn't unusual. Ash went home in her car, Larry dropped by Mr. Addison's recently purchased grocery store to collect his weekly work check, and Todd went to Neil's house for the weekends.

It was just Sal on Friday afternoons. Him and his constantly raging thoughts. And his feet crunching leaves and pine needles that littered the sidewalk. And his shoulder-length azure hair billowing in the soft breeze. His fingers pulling at the straps of his backpack.

Most importantly about this particular day's scene was that Sal felt numb. He was tired-- exhausted. Completely drained and so sick of acting like he had forgiven the person who tore his life apart before it had even really begun.

Everyone always said the right thing to do was forgive, but Sal didn't understand why that was the solution. He would write down the things he wanted to say to the person who ripped him apart. He cried about how disheartened he was, screamed at his ceiling while he showered, begging for the pain to go away. Forgiveness had done nothing to heal him, and he was absolutely sure that his forgiveness didn't matter to his mother's murderer.

For far too long, he had held back every single emotion and reaction that he should've gotten out. He was starting to wonder why he ever did that in the first place. In the way shaking a bottle of soda would cause it to burst, Sal was doing the same with his own feelings. He was constantly being shaken up and he knew he would blow any second at that point. He kept trying to push it down, but on that day, walking along Nockfell's near empty streets, Sal suspected his moment was right around the corner.

Cutting away at his skin offered only little relief at one point, but now it did nothing. He itched for emotional release, for catharsis-- but he was too afraid to look for it and didn't know how to achieve it. He was stuck. At a dark, twisted standstill with himself.

All he ever felt deep down at that time was envy and anger. He constantly craved the lives his friends lived. They were able to show off their faces in peace. They slept well at night, and for eight full hours he begrudgingly presumed. They had their parents, their families. Sal had his dad and he had his friends-- he was grateful for them, but it was just never enough. No matter how badly he wanted what he already had to be enough. He was always yearning for something, but he could never really figure out what it was that he wanted.

Did he want someone to love? Someone to love him? A face? His mother? A good night's sleep?

Sal was disgusted with himself, with his indecisive and ungrateful shit. With his horrible luck. He was his own personal pity party. How pathetic.

He couldn't do a single thing. Sal was just doomed to suffer forever.

He was starting to feel restless, like a zip-tie pulled too tight, just seconds away from snapping. And the sudden howl from beside him only tightened that tie. He went rigid in his stance, one foot caught mid-step. His head snapped up, blue hair falling into the eyeholes of his prosthetic, tickling his eyelashes.

Sal brushed his hair away from his face when a little giggle followed the scream he'd just heard-- he wasn't about to be attacked. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

He blinked at two teenagers running around someone's front lawn. They looked happy, energetic. Unbothered by the terrors of the world around them. He felt jealous, but he felt like scoffing at their ignorance too. Didn't they know that people were suffering somewhere in the world? How could they be so carefree-- how could they be happy?

Sal had to remind himself every single day that he couldn't actually think that way about other people. Everyone was allowed to be happy at some point, he was allowed some relief too. He just didn't get it often enough for it to really... matter.

But one little splash of joy in his deadened life was curled up in his bed at home and waiting for his afternoon snack. So Sal turned his attention away from the happy kids, focused on getting home yet again. But when his head swerved to look back to the placement of his feet, he noticed a pair of shoes a few steps away from him.

Sal's gaze traveled up the person's body, his blood going ice cold once he realized that it was Travis standing before him. Not to mention, the horrified expression on the bully's face was a bit startling to the bluenette.

Travis's face was always bruised or scratched in some form or another. Sal felt a bit morbid when thinking that Travis's abused skin just so happened to bring out the mahogany shade of his dark eyes. And the bully's hair was in a purposefully messy state that was just so exemplary to Sal. Even if the dark roots of his bleached hair needed to be dyed again, he still managed to make it into something attractive. Sal was, again, envious. But more prominent than his envy was his rage and his fear.

Sal stood there, assessing Travis's fearful figure with wide, wary eyes, even if only one of them worked anymore.

A wave of disdain cursed Sal. Every single day, he had to find a way around Travis and that afternoon he had to do it again. He should have been free of his bully for the rest of the weekend, so what business did Travis have there?

Whether their interactions were verbal or bloody, Sal still despised having to so much as be in the blonde asshole's vicinity. He didn't mind watching Travis-- watching him was simple, noninvasive, and even interesting at times. But actually having to be near him and listen to his insults? Sal would rather avoid that.

So he tried to go for the ignorance route-- sidestep Travis and pretend he never saw him. But as soon as Sal took a single step forward, Travis barked out his name. It was so frantic and desperate that Sal couldn't help but flinch. And despite his better judgement, Sal stopped moving. He couldn't help it, the pause was instinctual. He stared at Travis, wide-eyed and trying to hold up a half decent glare.

Travis and Sal had one singular moment of understanding years ago-- their freshman year of high school. The bully's vulnerability now reminded Sal of their one moment. The bluenette had always been too empathetic to ignore someone in need-- even if it was Travis who bothered him to no end when Sal happened upon him crying in the bathroom one day.

But that didn't matter anymore, or it shouldn't at least because the day after that moment, Travis reverted back to his well-known asshole persona. Sal had been so disappointed in himself for wasting his time that day a few years back. He thought he had finally made a friend of the closed-off bully, but it turned out that nothing changed.

On the sidewalk, standing before Travis, Sal was reminded of the day a stall door separated the two young men. Watching the more grown up version of Travis made Sal feel like he was just going to waste his time again by assuming that the blonde had changed. Sal shouldn't keep hoping for change, but he couldn't help it.

Sal continued to wait to hear him out anyway. Watched a fidgety, red-faced Travis who looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

"I'm moving," Travis finally spoke, his voice was quivering. "Away from Nockfell."

That was news to Sal. Not like it mattered much-- this just meant that he could finally be at peace with his not-so-normal, every day life. If anything, Sal was actually elated.

"And I'll probably never see you again," Travis continued, looking off to the side. "So I wanted to tell you something. Before I go." The boy frequently paused, unable to really look Sal in the eye or keep the tremor from his deep voice.

Sal chewed on his scarred bottom lip, trying to ignore the way it felt like biting on ripped leather. "If it's to call me a freak like you've done for the past four years, you can just leave now," he snapped, his tone soft like it always was because God forbid he release all the pent up rage and aggression. Losing his filter in front of Travis was never on Sal's list of things to accomplish.

Sal could hear Travis audibly gulp at the cold words directed at him. "No," Travis squeaked, "I-- I never meant any of that."

Sal scrunched his face up at such a sad attempt at a lie. The tip of his nose brushed the inside of his prosthetic, teeth bared as he snorted tastelessly, "Could have fooled me." Just like he thought-- a waste of time.

Without a moment of hesitation, the bluenette stepped onto the curb of the street, passing up Travis. He didn't look at him, didn't acknowledge his presence anymore. He was done dealing with this asshole. He had a date with Gizmo, Travis didn't matter.

Sal resurfaced on the opposite side of Travis, their backs to each other. He tried to clear his mind, to ignore the burning rage scratching at his spine. Travis was leaving, things were going to be better. He just had to remember that. He had to hold onto that.

"I'm in love with you!" A soft, almost inaudible whimper followed that declaration. "I always have been..."

Sal's mind turned to mush. He suddenly couldn't think, couldn't form words or comprehend what was just said. He simply took pause-- his steps and thoughts simultaneously ceasing. He was at a standstill with the rest of the world around him. Where was he even supposed to start in dissecting what Travis had just said?

Sal's heart thrummed wildly inside his chest. He was enraptured by the prospect of being loved-- didn't matter who loved him. It was the fact that maybe just one person loved him romantically. But then again, how could anyone love him? Especially homophobic, ableist Travis of all people. What was going on here? Obviously Travis was lying, but why would he drag himself down with Sal? What was the purpose?

Sal didn't know how to calm his mind, he didn't know how to pick a side. He wanted to be excited so badly, but he knew better. He knew that this was just another one of Travis's devious plots in stomping him into his grave. Sal grew increasingly disappointed in himself. Every. Single. Day. But hoping for Travis to love him? Trusting it even if just for a moment? Getting excited over it? That was breaking boundaries. He needed to draw the line for himself.

But the issue was that he had already crossed that line he was struggling to build last minute. All of the build up over the past few years was coming to a breaking point and he could feel it. He could smell it. He could taste it. The numbness traveled throughout his entire body-- it was in his blood, in his bones, in his DNA by this point and he was going to snap. There was no holding it back anymore.

Sal turned his head over his shoulder to address Travis, hands clenching into fists as he fought for clarification, for just a moment of relief. His fingernails bit into his palms, a sweet little stinging sensation following the sudden puncture. "What?" He snapped at Travis.

Travis took a breath, his entire body rising with the intake. Sal's gaze was caught in a snare-- eyes glued to the bully's red cheeks and watery eyes. "Do you remember when you found me crying all those years ago?" He asked Sal, voice cracking and quivering. Had Sal not been so pissed off and confused and saddened and every other emotion in the world, he'd have been intoxicated by the sound of Travis tripping over himself. "I was just beginning to acknowledge my feelings for you that day," he continued, swiping a hand over his bruised cheek. Travis' lips trembled, effectively showing off the healing cut on his bottom lip.

"I wrote it all down to try and get the thoughts out of my head, but it only got worse. I couldn't--" Travis stopped, clutching his shaky hands to his chest. "It was hard for me. I shouldn't be gay, I can't be. But... I've learned over the past three years that I am. And I've loved you from the start, no matter how much I hate to admit it."

Sal's head began shaking immediately. He was in disbelief for multiple reasons. The audacity of Travis to-- to... the audacity. There was no way Sal was going through this right now. He couldn't believe it. He refused to-- for his own sake. But that damn expression on Travis's face struck fear and relief in Sal's heart. And he fucking hated it.

It was relief for himself. Maybe he wasn't unloveable. And apparently Travis didn't hate him, he was just struggling with his sexual orientation. Relief for Travis for finally accepting himself and his feelings-- for being brave enough to be honest about it. Sal didn't want to be relieved though, he wanted to be angry. Which is exactly why he didn't want to hold back anymore. He couldn't keep doing it. Fuck everyone else, he had to ride or die for himself. He was the only one who ever would.

Travis might have been gay, but there was no way he could love Sal. It was impossible. The devil and angel battling on his shoulders was finally chipping away at the last bit of resolve that Sal had held up all those years. It was a cave in the trunk of a tree, and that tree was starting to tip over. This was the end.

He was tired of the lies. Tired of the excuses. Tired of the tip-toeing-- either to protect him or at his expense. Sal didn't need protecting and he sure as hell didn't want it to begin with. He didn't need someone trying to convince him that he was a freak either. Because he was a freak. And, right then, with his blood pumping and rage consuming his very essence, maybe being a freak wasn't such a bad thing.

Sal's fists squeezed even tighter, his fingertips smeared with his own blood by that point. He was done in every sense of the word. In every meaning. Completely and utterly finished. The days where he once wasted his time and bowed down to everyone were over.

He blinked past the red sheen in his vision, eyes locked on Travis who looked like he was about to faint, cry, piss himself-- he wasn't sure but it was something.

And again though, Sal couldn't care less about anyone else's feelings, let alone Travis's.

"F--" Sal seethed behind his prosthetic, instinctually biting into his tongue while his lips pulled back in a frustrated, angry snarl. His vocal cords were betraying him, trying to stop him from saying what he really wanted to say. Wanted to remind him of his calm exterior and to hold up his good reputation. That was old Sal, though. New Sal said what he thought-- what he felt.

"Fuck you."

The seal was broken. Sal's last ledge of hope disappeared, leaving the young man to free fall in his own rage and revenge-driven vices. The fight was over. The war was won. Wrath had prevailed.

"Fuck you," Sal spat out again, voice so aggressive that it nearly turned into a yell. "I'm fucking tired of your manipulation. Don't you know how pathetic you are? You're a waste. Such a waste of space, a waste of time. What was the point of torturing me for years just to come spew some bullshit about love at me? You don't love me-- you don't even fucking love yourself."

Travis flinched, falling a step or two away from the monster Sal had suddenly become. The tears that had been building in the bully's eyes finally spilled over his flushed cheeks. His mouth worked wordlessly while he stared at Sal for a bit. He bent over to hide his face, furiously wiping at his wet skin.

He took a quick breath then lifted his head again, a deadly glare quickly being directed at Sal. It was the same expression the bully wore every day. And Sal matched it with his own. He was ready, prepared for everything and anything. He'd beat Travis into the ground if he had to. Honestly, he'd feel better if he was able to get his frustrations out. Adding another pretty bruise to Travis's face felt like the best way to do just that.

Neither boy said a word, they only glared at each other for two beats of silence, and an extra beat of contemplation.

Then Travis started stomping over to Sal who was only four or so steps away, his bruised fingers squeezing into fists. Sal recognized that stance, that walk, so he prepared himself with one foot in front of the other and dropped his backpack to the ground.

"You're right. I don't love myself," Travis murmured, voice condescending. Sal held his ground confidently.

Travis hadn't seen that from Sal before. The bluenette would usually just step away and try to leave the scene— but Sal's confidence didn't deter the bully either.

"I'm sorry," Travis ground out behind clenched teeth. "I don't know how to prove it to you."

"What?" Sal laughed humorlessly, breath growing rapid to match his racing heart as Travis trekked closer. "Fighting me is how you'll prove it?"

Travis's brows bunched together in confusion for a fraction of a second. He stopped right in front of Sal, the toes of their shoes brushing and their chests just a hairsbreadth away from each other. "No," Travis breathed in disbelief, shaking his head lightly.

The bully could see everything in Sal's pretty blue eyes. The baby blue of a clear day's sky. The brightest stars in the universe captured in his irises, showing him a world of opportunity. A world of dreams. Everything he wanted. But he could also see the desperate anger in those pretty eyes that he seemed to love so much.

And Sal couldn't quite comprehend what was going on in Travis's head, didn't understand when he leaned down and pressed his lips to his prosthetic either. But the pressure was there, he could see the top of Travis's head and marveled at how impossibly close he was. And then the little kiss to his lips.

Sal's real lips parted, absolute bewilderment taking hold of him. His heart fluttered with thousands of cruel butterflies, his stomach churned with wildflowers and warm sunshine. He couldn't understand how a meaningless, fake kiss could light him up like a carnival but there he was.

Travis separated himself from Sal, wary and watery eyes watching the boy he loved through two little holes.

Sal simply looked back at him, eyes wide and his entire body trembling with adrenaline.

There was a second snap in Sal's mind that day. A snap that allowed him to see that while he loathed Travis with all his being, he felt connected to him too. He didn't by any means love the bully, but the surprise affection awakened him to something he didn't know existed within him.

And later that night, Ash, Todd, and Larry got an excuse that Sal wasn't feeling well and that he'd be skipping the bonfire.

In reality, he and Travis were hidden somewhere in Nockfell's forest, spending Travis's last day together. Sal had his first real kiss, one that went past the surface of his prosthetic. He had many other kisses that night too. He had a lot of desperate moments, Travis had a lot of desperate moments too. They were desperate together.

They found serenity, peace, and the depths of desperation in each other. They found anger, they found depression, they found secrets. They created secrets and they carried them well, kept them hidden for a long time. With certain exceptions on Travis's part— unknown to Sal, of course.

Sal will never forget the moment he pulled off his prosthetic in the darkened woods. Travis had looked over him, smiled, and kissed him again.

They stayed out well past midnight and Sal hoped Gizmo would forgive him for not making it back in time for their afternoon cuddle session, but this was too important. Sal hadn't known how, but it mattered. It mattered a lot.

It changed him. And when he and Travis parted ways that night, both boys knew it was the start and end to whatever little opportunity was there. They wouldn't try for more. They got their hours and that was enough.

Sal went back to Addison Apartments, Travis went back to his parents yelling at their near empty home.

And they never spoke again.

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A/N:::: heyo :3 figured I'd started this up. I've had a few comments saying that Motherf*cker Sal is SO unlike canon Sal, which is true. But this is a universe where instead of being soft and shy to the end, Sal got tired of being something he wasn't. He was never whole, never healed from his trauma and his past— that's very evident in the game. So here, Sal snaps and develops a new persona. He's cold and a bit closed off, but most importantly, he tries not to bottle up his emotions. He gets out what he's feelings instead. He's still lovable and so sweet, just not to certain people for certain reasons ;)

This is one of either three or four parts. I'm not quite sure yet— but anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

As always, thank you for the continued support! I love you all so incredibly much💕

our first chapter back with a new title </3 :,)))

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #future smut #i miss motherf*cker so much wow

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