#twd au

[minichupikkk]

I have dis stupid twd au where they're twins

[lexi2000]

Twd Au pitt series where reader is in a poly relationship with late-30’s early 40’s abbot and Robby when?

[c0yotebites]

Cowboy!au fic is in the works.

Your cries have been heard 🙌 trying to come up with a working title :) suggestions welcome

[deadmanrisenn]

Rickyl younger years au: halloween edition (part 1)

That moment when your buddy is wearing the subtlest bit of eyeliner and vampire fangs and you kind of want him a little bit

[francisforevermore]

★┊[ eye for an eye

aka… your boyfriend's accident sparking something big

warnings ~ angst, fluff, VERYYY romantic, allusions to sunshine and carl's future; in this au, lori died giving birth to judy and michonne and her and carl's step-mom, carol works at the daycare, glenn, maggie, daryl and others are close family friends... might go deeper into the relations at some point :p

w/c ~ 1200+

── .✦ a/n ~ UGH THEYRE SO CUTEEE! Idk if ill keep this in the au's canon, I kinda just wanted to explore the concept of carl losing his eye in a modern setting!

You found out at work.

You'd been reading to a small group of kids. They were all circled up, watching and listening intently as your sweet voice recited the words to picture book you've read a million times.

One of those kids was Judy, your boyfriend's little sister. On any other normal occasion, he'd have been there to pick her up already. But he wasn't that day.

As you flipped the page, barely even glancing over to read the words, you heard Carol call your name.

She sounded odd. Fearful. Panicked, almost.

You should've caught on from that alone.

You told the kids you'd be back soon, that she probably just needed you to do some chore later. How wrong you'd turn out to be.

She pulled you aside gently with a grim expression. That made your stomach tie into knots.

"What's wrong?" You asked, still smiling, unaware of what you were about to hear.

Carol stared at you. Then glanced away. And when she looked back, swallowing the lump in her throat, the sentence that left her mouth was something you could never had prepared for.

"Carl's been shot."

Just like that, your whole world turned on its axis.

You stared back at her for several seconds, a disbelieving look on your face. No. No way, you'd muttered. Carl got shot? There's no way. He wouldn't let that happen. How could it have even happened in the first place?

But the look she gave you said it all.

She wasn't bullshitting. She was serious.

It took everything in you not to break down right there.

What you did instead was run to the back room and throw up your breakfast and lunch.

You sat there for so long, just sobbing. Sobbing and sobbing until you physically couldn't anymore. You couldn't think about anything other than the fact that your boyfriend got shot.

Carol soon came into the room, looking for you. She sat down at your side silently. Not invading, but still being there.

"He's in the hospital." She said. "They're operating on him as we speak. Rick told me he's sending Glenn and Maggie over to get you and Judith."

All you could do was nod tiredly.

A half hour passed before the Rhees arrived. You got yourself and Judy into their car without a word, movements robotic. You didn't exchange a word. The only thing that filled the silence was Judy's innocent babbling.

As soon as you arrived, you raced to where he was being kept. You came upon Michonne and Rick standing in the waiting area with solemn expressions.

That's when you broke.

Sobs wracked your body, sounds escaping you that you wished to suppress but couldn't. All that ran through your mind was Carl, how you may never see him again. How you could be planning his funeral in due time.

Hours, you spent waiting in the room. White walls and white furniture and white lights crowded your vision. Grief crowded your mind. You couldn't even stay strong for Judy, who sat on her mother's lap with a blank expression, unaware of the matter at hand. You found yourself only able to cry. And when you weren't doing that, you were trying not to.

Then, after too many hours to count, too many ticks of the clock, a doctor exited the operating room your boy was in.

"He's stable. The bullet didn't embed very far into his skull and didn't hit the brain. He'll make a full recovery."

Your heart stopped.

Yet again, sobs tore from your throat. This time, however, was much different. You were happy. So very happy.

Your sweet boy would live.

He'd live.

You cried and cried, grabbing onto Rick and Michonne for support, the three of you all holding one another. In that moment, you'd never felt more like a real family.

Glenn took you home that night.

Not to sleep, but to pack a bag and then go straight back to the hospital. There was no way you wouldn't be there for him when he awoke. You had to be there.

When you came back, he was still fast asleep.

It took him three days to wake up. And when he did, you were the only one at his bedside. Your hand was in his and you'd felt a small squeeze. The gentlest of movements, and yet one that meant so much.

You perked up immediately; got to watch his one blue eye flutter open and meet yours. A sound somewhere between a cry and a gasp ripped itself from your throat. You had to physically hold back from launching yourself at him.

"Hey, sweet boy." You muttered, a bright smile coming across your lips as you brushed his hair away from his forehead.

He just stared at you with the most confused of expressions. It made you laugh through the tears.

"Where… what…?" He asked with a groggy voice.

"Shh… Don't say anything, okay? Just stay put, I've gotta get a doctor." And before you do just that, you planted a firm kiss to his forehead. Your lips lingered against his cold skin for several seconds.

It only took you a few minutes to find a doctor. She and a few others then went to his bedside to check on him, to make sure he's stable. While they did that, you took the time to call his parents and family. You called Rick and Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Daryl and whoever else you could think of that would be concerned.

Soon, the kid's got ten people waiting outside his door.

For several hours, you and his family just talked with him. He recounted the events leading up to his incident, and that's how you found out he was shot due to his friend showing off a gun with a broken safety.

It made your stomach sink.

You pressed a kiss to the back of his hand when he finished his tale.

And with it, you promised to never leave him.

You spent every second at his bedside, as before. Whether you filled your time by doing your missing schoolwork, talking or cuddling, you were in the room with him. He didn't mind. It made him feel safe. Comforted.

You remember vividly a conversation you had with his dad while he was sleeping. You were leaning against the edge of his bed, your head resting on his arm. Your hand was in his.

"He's out like a light." Rick had commented with a soft grin.

"Yeah. Can't blame him, he's been through a lot in the past few days." You replied with an equally soft expression.

Rick watched you two, and for a second, he saw himself and Lori. Except he knew, in his heart, that you would get your happy ending.

"You really love him, don't you?" He murmured.

You looked back, faltering at his words. Tears sprung in the corners of your eyes. You nodded.

"I do, sir."

He pauses.

"He loves you too, I hope you know. I don't think he realizes it, but he does. Keep him close, sweetheart. He can't live without you."

And even long after Carl woke up, long after he recovered, and into the present time, his father's words stuck to you. The boy never found out about the conversation and you doubt he ever will. But that's okay, because not for one second did you doubt what his father said. You knew he loved you then and you know he loves you now — and one day, you'll make up that missing eye for him, by accepting his inevitable proposal.

He always did refer to you as "the apple of his eye."

[ 🏷️ : @r0seb100d @whitemanswh0r3 @marilyn-girly @dallysdolly444 @only-lonely-star @itonlyhastobetruetoday @alyssat-t @ofallihaveconsumed @pinkienovae — send a dm or ask to be added or removed! ]

[smolivin]

one

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dk x bk x reader zombie apocalypse au (based on the walking dead universe) ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ you make some new "friends" on the road ⋆｡˚✴︎⋆ 2.1k wc

٠࣪⭑ cw: zombie apocalypse au, blood, gore, genre-typical violence, zombies are called 'walkers', creepy men (they turn), weapons (guns, knives, baseball bat), erm lmk if i forgot any

It would have been better if they'd knocked you out, you think.

Your hands are bound tight, so tight that the rope is rubbing your wrists raw as you try to loosen the knot. It stays solid as ever, despite your wriggling. Maybe you shouldn't be tearing at your skin like this to escape, but you can hear the walker down the road getting closer and closer. The sun over head is violent, beating down on you relentlessly, and sweat trickles down the side of your face and the back of your neck, pools in your palms and under your arms. It's hard to think straight in this kind of heat, and you've been rationing water for the last few days so you're already closer to dehydration than not.

How is it that your choices are a) wait for your captors to return and take you somewhere that's sure to be even worse than this hell on earth you're currently living in or b) become one of the festering corpses that walk the roads day in and day out – only, you guess you wouldn't even walk anywhere if you turned, not bound like this.

The men are still inside the station. After they'd caught you, they'd dragged you outside and tied you to a fence post.

"Sit tight," the one with the scaly voice said, sneer stretched across his filthy face. "Don't go runnin' off now, the big boss'll love you."

You said nothing, just narrowed your eyes and set your jaw. The other one kicked your shoulder, hard, and grinned when you winced and grunted at the pain.

"Real pretty." He'd licked his lips and you'd felt sick to your stomach, the way he looked at you. And then they'd gone in to the station to scavenge supplies, circling around to find another entrance and see what was inside.

Now here you sit, listening to the growling and moaning grow closer and closer. The walker is probably... a hundred, hundred-and-fifty yards away? You don't think it's caught your scent yet, and the shuffling seems to be staying at a slow pace. Still, you feverishly pick at the rope binding your hands, fruitlessly hoping it will come undone. Your bag, carelessly thrown about ten feet from your bound feet, seems to be taunting you, beckoning you, so close and at the same time entirely inaccessible. If you could just get free–

But the knot stays strong.

You're wondering what the hell to do when you hear quick, quiet footsteps. You're not sure if you should be relieved or terrified. Head on a swivel, you try and make out where the steps are coming from... to your left, or–maybe your right–no, it's definitely closer to your left. Coming from the same direction as that same tiny farmhouse about a half a mile down. The one you'd passed on your way, the tiny old thing with a decrepit oak in the front yard, and a crumbling concrete walkway leading to a metal front door.

Should you call out? It could get you killed, but – there's a slim chance that maybe... maybe, the footsteps are someone who can help you. Heart hammering, you decide to speak. You haven't spoken aloud in weeks and your throat feels like sandpaper, so you try to swallow (it doesn't help).

"He–" your voice gives out on you. you take a deep breath and try again. "Hey." the footsteps slow. "Hello?" Then they stop. You whip your head around furiously, seeing nothing. "H-hey! Hey, is there... is someone there?"

The walker down the road is getting closer and closer. You hear it groan – maybe eighty, ninety yards away now.

"I–if anyone is there, please–i'm tied, i've been captured"–your head turns in the walker's direction as you hear its shuffling pace increase–“I just need this rope cut," you hiss.

Silence.

"I know someone is there," you implore. "These–inside, are they your people? No, no–please, i need out of my bindings. They tied me up and said they were gonna take me somewhere, I'm just–I won't, please, just help me get free, the walkers–"

So swiftly and silently you'd almost miss it, a sharp blade severs the rope around your wrists. Springing up, you lunge for your bag and fall onto your stomach on the concrete drive because of the rope still binding your legs. Your hand manages to wrap around the handle of your pack and you drag it closer, but before you can even unzip it the rope around your ankles is slashed, too.

Down the road the walker shuffles faster and faster, maybe fifty yards or closer at this point.

You scramble to your feet, looking around for your weapons and cursing when you see that they're gone, save for the spare carving knife you keep buried deep in your bag, wrapped in a shirt. Then you turn to finally get eyes on your rescuer.

The first guy stands closer to the fence. Probably in his twenties, if you had to guess. He's not too tall, but he's not what you'd call short, either. Taller than you, anyway. His unruly hair is a deep shade of green, almost black with soot and dirt; scars cover his hands and peek out of his collar with a long one vertically under his eye that looks pink in the sun; there's a wickedly sharp machete gripped in his palm and his other hand hovers near the gun at his waist; even in the baking heat, he wears long sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a dirty blue shirt with a faded print on the front that you can't make out, but it looks vaguely super hero related; a backpack is slung over one shoulder. The most striking thing about him is his eyes: they're emerald, almost the same shade as his hair, and piercing. He glances around uneasily.

The other guy hangs back, with a stance that says he's itching to move on. Also likely in his twenties, looks to be around the same age but he's taller, only slightly, with spiky blonde hair and a mean expression on his face. His lip is curled in disgust as he checks out the walker drawing steadily closer. He's dressed head to toe in black, with a baseball bat covered in nails in one of his hands and a rifle strapped to his back. There's scars on his arms too, and he even has one under the same eye as the other, only horizontal, stretching in the opposite direction. His other hand fidgets with a long bowie knife, and he shifts from foot to foot, grip tight on his bat. He adjusts the black baseball cap on his head with the handle of the knife and grunts.

"It's time to go."

The man with green hair looks back at him silently, and they seem to have some sort of argument with their eyes. Only, you don't care to watch and see who wins, shifting your attention towards scaling the fence you were tied to just moments before. You're near the top when you look around the station road and... it's bad. It's really bad. Walkers are slowly shifting towards the station, coming from both directions on the road – not a herd, but enough to make escape extremely difficult. And dangerous. The green haired man starts to say, "Are you–"

"Hey Deku"–the blonde spits with vitriolic urgency–"clock's ticking." He looks from the man with green hair (Deku?) to the closest walker closing in and back again.

You reach half-way down the other side of the fence and jump the rest of the way down, dropping into a crouch and unzipping your bag to see if you can reach your knife. There's no way you'll survive without something to use as a weapon. You grope around blindly, shoving your hand deeper your anxious search; your hand barely wraps around the makeshift t-shirt sheath when–

"Fuck," the blonde growls, hefting his bat in his hand. The walker is only ten yards away now, snarling and rushing forward at the prospect of fresh blood and tissue. The man steps forward and swings the bat down decisively in a punishing blow, and blood erupts from the walker's head. It stumbles to the ground, where the man drops quickly to his knees and stabs it through the eye socket with his knife. He shoots you a withering glance before shifting his attention to the one he called 'Deku' before. "Move, dumbass!"

Your hand curls around the handle of your spare–now only–knife and you pull it out before zipping your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Only now do you really have a solid grasp of your surroundings, and... well, you're surrounded. You have eyes on at least ten walkers, maybe fifteen, shuffling or crawling along with their signature wailing cries. 'Deku' looks back at the blonde and seems to decisively win their silent argument. Then he looks to you.

"Stay close to me," he says lowly, blade wielded in front of you both.

"Damn it!" the other man exclaims, striking out at another walker and taking this one down with one blow. The three of you carve a path and dart through the line of walkers directly in front of you. One reaches out to grab your arm and 'Deku' slices a wide arc with the machete, giving you the opportunity to take the corpse down with a swift stab to the face; your blade sinks into the flesh with a sickening crunch. You quickly move to shove it off and turn to keep moving forward. Once the path is clear of any dead, the blonde man breaks into a run, and 'Deku' looks back at you once, his message still clear, written all over his features: stay close to me.

"We need to get to the car!" he calls.

"The way back is full of 'em," the other man shouts back, cursing again when more walkers wander out from behind the fire station. Among them are two that look familiar, and with horror (and a twisted sense of satisfaction), you realize it's the same men who'd tied you up and threatened to take you back to some 'boss'. Looks like they hadn't been lucky inside after all.

'Deku' scans the scene with a discerning eye, face set in an expression of concern and concentration. He seems to be counting walkers, which now seem to be streaming from all directions, mumbling calculations under his breath before springing into action and cutting a zig-zag path through. He dashes fifty yards down the road to a car pulled over that you hadn't noticed before. You're quick to follow, running as fast as you can to the vehicle and yanking open the back door, practically diving into the seat. The blonde slips into the driver's side and takes the keys 'Deku' holds out, turning them in the ignition – to your immense relief, the engine purrs nice and smooth. He slams the gas, hurtling forward into a walker and sending it flying in the air, blood and viscera splattering the windshield. Then he turns on the wipers as you speed down the road, weaving around walkers at a breaking speed until you're free from the swarm.

The man in the passenger's seat twists around to face you.

"What's your name?" he asks. His voice is surprisingly melodic, now that you're slightly out of the fire and in less dire circumstances; it has this soft, lilting quality that makes you feel more at ease. Still, your guard is high, with your knife clutched in a vice-like grip.

You tell him and he nods, opening his mouth to speak, but the angry looking man in the driver's seat interrupts your introduction. "We can drop you somewhere once we get clear of this area."

'Deku' shoots him a look. "Kacchan–"

"No more strays!" 'Kacchan' barks accusingly, glaring at you through the rear view mirror. "Damn it, we said no more strays–"

"Where are you headed?" you cut in. 'Kacchan' wheels around like he means to chew you out and 'Deku' shoves at his shoulder lightly.

"Eyes on the road!" he looks back at you. "North. we're planning on skating around the city and following the road into the state over."

"Drop me there," you say, finally easing your grip on your knife a little. not enough to let go, just enough that your knuckles stop turning white.

The driver grunts. "Done–"

"–you don't wanna go there. It's been completely overrun, and we've heard the fighting in the city is brutal–"

"–Deku, stop trying to pick up strays!–"

"Drop me there," you repeat, more emphatically. "Or, I can figure a better landing spot once we're closer, at least." He nods. You pause, glancing at your knife before looking up at them. "Thank you," you say, "for freeing me back there, and for the walkers... thanks. I owe you one."

'Deku' smiles. "Don't mention it."

In the driver's seat, the blonde sighs. He mutters something about predictable and do this every fuckin' time, but you're not listening anymore, adrenaline starting to wear thin. A sense of deep exhaustion settles over your body and you fight to stifle a yawn. Last night's lack of sleep is catching up to you. 

You slide your pack off your shoulders and let out a deep breath you don't realize you've been holding on to until it's free. For the first time, in a long time, you just sit, chin in your palm, and gaze out the car window at the scenery whizzing by.

Not a walker in sight.

[1-800-teax]

Sushi

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Between season 2 & 3, before they found the prison.

—

The sun is hot. Grows hotter everyday as the seasons change from winter into spring and you fear for the heat of summer. Since the fall of Hershel’s farm, months ago now, there isn’t a place you’ve all stayed for more than a few hours - if you’re lucky a day or two.

Hope. For answers, for a savior or a cure is dwindling with everyday that passes. What replaces it is worst - hunger, exhaustion, fear and anxiety. The only thing anyone’s holding out for is the baby growing in Lori’s belly. She’s far along enough to have to wear larger clothes and even so, her protruding stomach peeks out.

The scent of roasted beans, Glenn and Maggie managed to scavenge earlier wafts in the air. The clearing you all stopped in is small but it’ll do for a much needed break. Your stomach grumbles for more of something, anything other than the canned food that’s slowly becoming nauseating to you.

The fallen leaves crinkle beneath your feet as you weave through Beth and Carl huddled near the small fire.

“No…I can’t-” Lori starts, hands pausing your movements mid way to giving her the extra food she desperately needs.

“I can’t eat anymore of this…it’ll just go to waste.” You cut her off, using the same excuse as you have for the past few months. Lori needed it more than you, for her baby. You haven’t met the kid yet, but if she comes out anything like Carl, she already has your heart.

Lori looks torn, as always. You don’t give her a chance to hesitate as you press more firmly into her hands, moving as soon as it’s in her grasp, “I’ll go find you some more ginger.”

Daryl follows behind you silently, he doesn’t have to - you’ve more than proven you’re able to handle yourself now but he does anyway. It’s always the same, you walk a few paces ahead, he’s silent and vigilant while you look for whatever is you’re looking for.

He watches you, he always does. You’re different from the girl he met all those months ago when this all began. You’re tougher, stronger. His eyes are trained on your back, the ends of your cornrows, long and frizzy with the heat swing down your back with every step you take, your knife sits on makeshift holster on your waist and he can’t help his eyes from watching your hips move. The shirt you cut into a crop top to battle the heat doesn’t help his case, neither is the shorts you found last week.

Too wrapped up in his thoughts of you, he almost crashes into your back as you stop. You make him loose focus, and that’s dangerous.

“There.” You mutter quietly, whether to yourself or to him - you don’t clarify as you step towards a shaded area in the treeline. Your body already dropping to its haunches beside the plants.

Daryl doesn’t know much about plants but luckily you do.

Your hands and knees are dirty, mud and grass stained as you dust off the ginger you found.

“Things like gold now.” Daryl grunts casting a side glance at the plant in your hands as he lowers himself onto the tree trunk beside you.

“Oh, yeah.” You agree. You had revealed your extensive knowledge on plants back when Lori had horrible morning sickness, back then you had found the plant easier and in an abundance but that was miles back.

In truth, it helped you too. As much as you hated eating it, it helps to curb your appetite.

“You think you could ever do it?” You suddenly ask after a moment of comfortable silence. From the tree you’re sitting on, you’re out of sight from Walkers but looking up the sun rays pierce through the tree line and highlight the woods around you. You never appreciated nature before the fall.

Daryl doesn’t have to ask you to elaborate, he already knows what you’re asking. If he could raise kids in a world like this.

“Don’t think it matters what’s goin’ on with the world…it’s the way of life, ain’t it?”

Humming softly, his words settle in your mind. You stew over them, gearing up to reply when your stomach grumbles, loud enough to embarrass you.

Releasing a sheepish laugh, you divert your embarrassment. “God, I miss sushi.”

A light scoff pulls you out of your daydreams of the perfect roll, “Of all things, you miss raw fish?” Daryl’s incredulous tone mixed with a hint of disgust throws you off.

“Are you judging me right now?” You deadpan, eyebrows furrowed and voice mixed with light amusement.

He shrugs, standing while adjusting his crossbow into his hands to begin the trek back to camp. “No. Shamin’.”

You gasp, mock shock escaping as you trudge after him. “Hey! It’s an acquired taste.”

“Uh-huh.” His simple, nonverbal hum of an answer, annoys you but not enough to push away the amusement in you.

The walk back to camp feels shorter, maybe because for once you’re not in total silence pretending you both aren’t stealing glances at each other.

Your close - close enough to hear the voices of the group and see the side of T-Dog on perimeter watch when Daryl lightly nudges your shoulder with his, “Hey. Tell Rick I’ll be back, gone huntin’.”

Your hand catches his arm before he can make it too far away, “Be careful.”

You always say it, but this time it carries a weight he can’t begin to unravel so he nods after a long moment of looking into your eyes. Wide and full of emotions he doesn’t understand.

“Yeah.” He finally agrees, giving his bottom lip a light nibble - what you’ve learnt of the closet thing to a reassuring smile you’ll get from Daryl.

—

Daryl had been gone for a while, at least long enough to the sun to be dipping low and Rick to ask you for the hundredth time which direction he went in. Lori had eaten a slice of ginger from when you brought it back and now she lays by Carol, getting some much needed rest.

Beth, Carl, Maggie, and Hershel are already tucked in and fast asleep after another batch of canned goods for dinner. You swapped places the T-Dog a few moments ago, relieving him from watch for rest. Besides, you needed to get away from the scent of canned spaghetti.

Shuffling makes way from the right of you, low enough to not cause a panic but enough to have you on alert. The gun in your hand raised as a stick is snapped closer, too close.

Your mouth drys and your heart beats in your chest too loud to hear anything else.

“Easy.” That familiar deep grumble emerges from the darkness, his hands raised high.

The sigh that blows from your chest is heavy as your whole body relaxes, “I could’ve shot you, you know.”

“Ya’ didn’t.” He counters, not a hint of fear detected in him as he reaches behind him for something.

“Catch.”

“Wha-” You only have a second before Daryl tosses something in your hands, hairy, wet and carries a little weight. Glancing down, your heart stutters and your belly grumbles at the sight.

A rabbit. Although, killed - by the bolt sized hole in his head, but actual meat.

Daryl steadies himself when your eyes snap up towards his, full of gratitude and appreciation. It makes him shy.

“Ain’t sushi.” He grumbles, playing with the ear of the other rabbit tied to the string around him.

You’re rendered silent, utterly and completely. You, who always has something to say. But you can’t place words onto what you’re feeling, he went hunting because you made an off handed comment.

And of course, Daryl brushes it off as if he hadn’t ventured off further than he should’ve because he couldn’t bear coming back empty handed and watching you starve yourself over food you hated.

So, he walks away not being able handle your silence or the way you’re looking at him.

And you watch him walk away, this man who’s a silent mystery you’re still trying to piece together. The man with the angel wings and possibly, your heart.

[curs3souls]

Offside Ⅰ

Summary: You’ve moved to a new town and decide to join the soccer team, which you begin to develop feelings for your coach. As your connection with him slowly deepens, things become increasingly complicated, especially with the fact that he’s still married.

Pairings: Negan Smith x F!reader

Content: Slow burn? Non, apocalypse au.

W.c: 3,854

Notes: Hello!! This is going to be a long fic series! I decided to give it a try, so let me know what you guys think about it. Sorry, I wrote so much for the first chapter! For the next chapter, I’ll probably do a one week time skip. Enjoy!

⊹₊˚‧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‧˚₊⊹

It was your first day of senior year at a new school. Your dad had gotten a better job offer, and before you knew it, you and your parents were moving to Oakridge, Oregon.

The town sat deep in the mountains, surrounded by endless forests and fog that never seemed to fully disappear. The streets were quiet, the buildings old, and the pine trees stretched so high they blocked out the sky. 

It wasn't a bad place, though. At least, not from what you'd seen so far. The people seemed friendly enough. Then again, you hadn't actually spoken to anyone yet.

"Remember your father and I-"

"You and Dad won't be home! Got it!" You said as you grabbed your bag, running out the door.

"She'll be fine." Your father put his hand behind your mother.

You lived in a small neighborhood with neatly kept lawns and driveways lined with parked cars. Just outside the neighborhood was a small gas station and liquor store. Which was nice, you supposed.

Grabbing your skateboard, you stepped off your porch and glanced across the street. One of your neighbors was standing outside beside his car, keys in hand. A woman came out of the house. She walked over to him, looking angry, still talking as she reached the car, while he just ignored her and climbed into the driver’s seat. The door slammed shut before she could finish whatever she was saying.

You waited at the end of the driveway while he backed out. Instead of driving off right away, he stopped and motioned for you to go first. You gave him a small nod before pushing off on your skateboard and crossing the street. Once you were past, he drove away, disappearing into the morning fog that hung over the neighborhood.

…

You had finally made it to school. The building was bigger than you expected, hallways already filled with students moving in clusters, voices bouncing off the walls, lockers slamming shut. 

You kept walking, weaving through the crowd until you finally found your first period classroom. The moment you stepped inside, the noise from the hallway faded into a low murmur behind you.

The room was already half full. You looked for a seat, then headed toward one of the empty desks in the back and sat down.

On your right, a girl was leaning back in her chair, completely locked into a conversation with two guys beside her. 

On your left, a guy was picking his nose as he had absolutely no awareness of the concept of other people. 

You stared forward instead, choosing not to react, already realizing this year was going to feel very long.

"Hey, you’re new, aren’t you?!” The girl on your right said, turning around in her seat.

“Yeah, I am.” You looked at the girl.

“Cool. This is Carl, Ron, and I’m Enid!” She pointed at the boys next to her.

“Y/N.” You smiled as you looked at them.

“Nice meeting you!” Enid said brightly.

Before anything else could be said, the classroom door opened.

“Alright, settle down, everyone! I know it’s the first day back, but let’s get through this.” The teacher walked in. 

"I’m Mr. Rhee, and I’ll be your English teacher for this year.” He looked at the class, already looking tired. 

“I heard Maggie, his wife, got pregnant over the summer,” the boy you assumed was Ron said, leaning back in his chair like he was sharing breaking news.

“And how would you know, Mr. I can’t even pass Geometry?” Enid shot back. Carl snorted, trying not to laugh.

“I-okay, whatever!” Ron said, throwing his hands up before turning back toward the front of the room, pretending to focus on Mr. Rhee.

“We could go to the diner later and just ask Maggie.” Enid said.

The bell rang, cutting through the chatter. Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone started packing up.

You stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“What’s your next period?” Enid asked, already gathering her things too.

“Statistics.” You let out a small sigh.

“Oh, you’re smart,” she said immediately, smiling.

“Thanks.” You gave a small smile back.

“Can I walk you there?” she added, tilting her head slightly. “It’s right across from my class… kind of.”

"Yeah, sure," You Nodded. "That would be nice." You grabbed your bag and headed out with her.

“I’ll catch you guys at nutrition!” she called over her shoulder, already halfway out of the classroom. She then turned back to you.“So where are you from?”

“California,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“Oh, nice,” She nodded. “Well, I hope this town’s treating you well. Do you like it out here?”

“Can’t really say yet. I haven’t really looked around the town.” You shrugged a little.

You reached your next class already.

“Why don’t you wait for me here after second period?” she added. “You can hang out with my friends and me.”

“Yeah. That sounds cool.” You nodded.

“Yeah, cool! I’ll see you right now.” A bright smile spread across her face.

She waved and walked off down the hall.

…

It was nutrition time, and you waited outside your classroom, leaning back slightly against the wall as students moved through the halls.

“Hey! Y/N!”

You looked up and saw Enid walking toward you, Carl and Ron following behind her.

“Hey,” you said, straightening up a bit.

“Sorry it took so long,” she said, laughing. “These two idiots were taking forever.”

“Yeah, right!” Carl cut in immediately. “You were the one who couldn’t decide whether to sign up for soccer or not.”

“I wanted to see who else signed up!” Enid rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of soccer, you should sign up.” She says as she turns to look over at you.

“I actually like soccer,” You said with a small smile. “I used to play at my old school.”

“Oh, sweet! We need people who actually know what they’re doing. Please sign up!” Enid’s face lit up. "Please! Please! Please!"

"Shouldn't have said anything," Carl says as he laughs, looking at you.

“Okay, okay. I’ll sign up. Where do I go?” You laughed. 

“You have to sign up with the coach,” She said, glancing toward the two gym doors. “And since we’re seniors and don’t have PE, we just go straight to him.”

“Great. More running.” Ron groaned behind her.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Enid ignored him as she grabbed your hand. "Will both be back after. Don't do anything stupid!" She says as both the boys laugh. Enid, holding your hand as you both run to the gym.

“How’s the coach like?” You asked as Enid knocked on the gym door.

“He’s nice,” She said, then hesitated. “But he can be kind of an asshole sometimes. Depends if he likes you or not.” She knocked again, harder this time. “Hopefully, he doesn’t hate us.”

Before she could bang on the door again, it swung open.

“Yes?” a voice asked.

An older man stood in the doorway, gym lights behind him.

“My friend wants to sign up for soccer,” Enid said quickly. “Can we come in?”

“Enid, when I said to recruit more people, I didn’t think you’d actually take it seriously.” He said as he stepped aside.

“You’re welcome,” she said cheerfully, already walking in.

The two of you followed him across the gym floor, sneakers squeaking slightly against the polished wood.

“What’s your name?” he asked as you reached his small office.

He finally turned around fully, and your stomach dropped slightly.

It was the man from your neighborhood this morning.

“Y/N L/N,” you said, a little quieter than before.

“Y/N…” He repeated your name slowly as he wrote it down on the sheet. 

“Alright,” he said after a moment. “You’re all signed up.”

Then he looked up and stopped.

His expression changed, enough for you to notice. 

The bell rang through the gym.

“Well, you both should head to class before you’re late,” He said, clearing his throat as he straightened up behind his desk.

“Okay, well, thank you, Coach!” Enid said quickly.

“Yeah,” You added with a small nod.

He didn’t say anything else, just watched as the two of you turned and headed back toward the gym doors.

“So, that’s Coach Smith,” she said, and with that, she kept walking, motioning for you to follow as the hallway filled back up with students rushing to class.

...

The final bell of the first day rang out through the school, students spilling into the parking lot. You walked with the crowd, slipping your wired headphones on as you headed toward where you’d left your skateboard.

“Yo! New girl!” a voice called out.

“I told you her name’s Y/N, idiot!” another voice snapped right after.

You turned toward the sound and spotted Enid leaning halfway out of a car window, waving at you.

“Hey?” you said, pulling your headphones off.

“We’re gonna go to the diner nearby,” Enid said. “Wanna come?”

“Uh, I would love to, but my skateboard-”

“Put it in my trunk!” Ron interrupted, already popping it open.

“Thanks,” you said, walking over and lifting the trunk lid a little higher. You hesitated for a second, glancing between them. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just shove it in there!” Ron said, waving you off.

You placed it carefully into the trunk before shutting it, then opened the car door and climbed into the back seat.

“Are we all ready?” Ron asked as he shifted the car into drive.

“Let’s go!” Enid said, already leaning forward.

The car was merging into the road as the campus slowly disappeared behind you.

“Nice car, by the way,” you said, watching the trees blur past the window.

“Thanks, my parents just got it for me!” Ron replied, a little too proudly.

“Slow down!” Enid said as the car picked up speed.

"So how was your first day of school?" Carl says, looking over at you.

"It was chill, I guess?" You shrug. "I like most of my teachers."

"That's good," He says as Ron pulls into the diner parking lot. "Come on! They have the best milkshakes here," He smiles as you guys get out of the car.

Carl holds the door for you as you guys walk in. Inside the diner was small and cozy. The smell of fresh coffee, fries, and hamburgers filled the air as soon as you walked in. Red booths sat along the walls, and a few people quietly talked while music played in the background. The windows fogged up a bit due to the weather. We headed over to a booth in the corner.

"Where's Maggie?" Enid asked as she sat down beside you, the two boys sitting across from you.

"Uh, not sure," Carl said, looking around. "She's coming."

Just then, a woman walked out through the double doors. She wore a white shirt with a black apron tied around her waist, a small notebook in her hand.

"Maggie!" Carl, Enid, and Ron called out at the same time.

"Hey, guys," she said with a smile as she walked over.

Her eyes moved from Carl and the others before landing on you. She glanced over at Enid, curious.

"So, you gonna introduce me to your new friend?" she asked.

"This is Y/N!" Enid said, grinning.

"Welcome, Y/N. I hope these three troublemakers are treating you well. I'm Maggie, by the way." Maggie smiled. Then, turning back to you all. "So, what do we want today?" She flipped open her notepad.

"Can we get a basket of fries?" Ron asked.

"A basket of fries," Maggie repeated, scribbling it down.

'"And can Ron and I get two chocolate milkshakes, please?" Carl added.

"Y/N, you should get a strawberry milkshake with me. They're really good." Enid said

"Oh, I don't have any money on me," you stated. Enid immediately shook her head. 

"No worries. I got you, okay?" She said, smiling.

Before you could argue, she looked up at Maggie.

"Two strawberry milkshakes, please."

Maggie smiled and wrote it down. 

"Coming right up!"

With that, she tucked the notebook under her arm and headed toward the kitchen.

"Enid, you didn't ask her if she's pregnant!" Ron said.

"Well, I'm not just gonna ask her!" Enid shot back, shaking her head. "What if she's not, huh? Then she'll think I'm calling her fat! Honestly, Ron, I have no idea how you're in honors."

"You're like the closest to her out of all of us," Ron insisted. "Just make sure to ask before we leave. I've been dying to know."

"So that's the lady dating our English teacher?" you asked, glancing toward the counter where Maggie had disappeared.

"Yeah," Enid said. "We're close 'cause she's been working here since I can remember. I'm always here, so she talks to me a lot. She's really sweet."

"Nice..."

…

After a bit, Maggie came back with a tray in her hands.

"Basket of fries, two chocolate milkshakes, and two strawberry milkshakes. Anything else, guys?" she asked as she set everything down.

"That's all. Thanks, Mags," Enid said with a smile.

Maggie gave a small nod and started to turn away.

Under the table, Ron suddenly kicked you by accident. You jolted and looked over at him with a scrunched-up expression.

He immediately mouthed, Sorry, then reached over and hit Enid instead.

“Hey-ouch!” Enid snapped, turning to Ron.

Ron ignored her, eyes darting toward Maggie like he was trying to signal something.

Enid sighed.

“I have a-” Enid started.

“How was-” Maggie began at the same time, stopping just as quickly.

They both froze.

“You go first-”

“No, you go-”

“Seriously, you-”

“Oh, my God!” Ron blurted, half-rising from the booth. “Someone just go, for crying out loud!”

“I was just going to ask how school went?” Maggie blinked at him, clearly confused but still polite. 

“Oh, school was-” Enid started, but got cut off again.

“School was good!” Ron jumped in quickly. “We’ve got your husband as our teacher!”

“Nice…to know?” Maggie paused for a second, then gave a small, uncertain smile. 

Ron nudged Enid under the table again, earning a sharp look from her.

“Uh… is it true that you’re pregnant?” she asked, forcing a nervous smile.

Carl quietly grabbed a fry and ate it, watching the exchanged looks. While you stayed quiet, sipping your milkshake, unsure of where to look.

“Oh! Yes, I am.” She gently rested a hand on her stomach. “How did you know?”

“Some kids at school were talking about it,” Enid looked at Ron.

“Yeah,” Ron added quickly, leaning back. “It’s basically all the gossip right now.”

“You keep up on the-” Maggie started, then paused, shaking her head. “Never mind. Enjoy your fries and milkshakes.” She turned and walked back toward the counter.

“You scared her!” Enid said immediately, grabbing a napkin, crumbling it, and throwing it at Ron.

“What the-hey!” Ron protested, catching it mid-air. “As I said, I just wanted to know, okay? And I think it went great.”

“It did not go great!” Enid shot back.

“Really? Because I think it went splendidly,” Carl said dryly, sipping his milkshake.

Enid narrowed her eyes and threw a crumpled napkin at him, too. Carl hid his face as it bounced off his shoulder. 

You let out a small laugh.

“You two are annoying,” Enid said, grabbing a fry from the basket and eating it.

…

A little while later, the tension faded into easy conversation. 

“Okay, wait-” Carl said, making a confused face. “You’re telling me Coach Smith, like the P.E. teacher, is having problems with his wife?”

“Hey! Don’t quote me on anything, okay?” Ron said quickly. “It’s just what I’ve heard.”

“So first it’s that Maggie’s pregnant, and now that Coach Smith is having issues with his wife?” Enid said, leaning back in her seat. “Yeah, no, that’s insane.” She turned to you. “Don’t you think that’s insane?”

"I don't know." You shrugged slightly. “I don’t really know him. And why is it such a big deal if he's having problems with his wife?"

“Right…you’re new,” Ron said slowly, pointing at you like that explained everything. 

"What's that have to do with anything? You spoke up.

"Nothing," Carl said. “Just that back in late August last year, he kind of had this whole thing.”

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice like it was some big secret.

“He and his wife went to this bar, right? And everything was fine until some guy started messing with him. Coach Smith just wanted to play a song for his wife, something special, but the guy kept shutting it down, acting like he owned the place. It turned into a whole argument.”

Carl paused.

“And Coach Smith snapped. Like, really snapped,” Carl said, leaning back in his seat. “He fought the guy right there in the bar. He’s technically not even supposed to be working at the school because the guy he beat up was the father of one of his students. I guess he just got away with it.”

"Uh, how do you know all of this?" You asked.

“He only knows this because his dad was there,” Enid said immediately.

“Hey! Keep my dad out of this,” Carl shot back.

“How can I keep him out of it if he was literally there?” Enid asked, confused.

“Well, I’m not supposed to know, so-” Carl muttered, rolling his eyes.

You blinked, processing that for a second.

“Wait..your dad’s the sheriff?” you asked, surprised. 

The table went quiet for a beat as everyone looked at Carl.

“Yeah, and his dad hates Coach Smith,” Ron added casually.

“Ron!” Carl snapped.

“What?” Ron replied, genuinely confused. “It’s true. You have to be new not to know. So…” He gestured towards you. “She knows now.”

“Wait, what-?” you said, squinting at all of them.

“My dad hates Coach Smith, but I don’t really know why,” Carl said with a shrug.

“That’s what he says,” Ron added, sipping his milkshake as he looked out toward the sunset through the diner window.

You stared at them in confusion, trying to piece everything together.

Then Enid spoke up again, dead serious.

“Surprised they’re not dating…”

“Here we go again.” Carl let out a long sigh. 

“What?” you said.

“Enid,” Ron said, exhaling, “believes that Carl’s dad and Coach Smith hate each other so badly that they secretly, like…yearn for each other. I don’t know.” He shakes his head in disbelief at even having to say this.

“Listen!” Enid said, sounding passionate. “You have to see my point of view! They’re always at each other’s throats! No one cares that much unless they’re, like…into each other.” She drinks the last bit of her milkshake.

“That’s insane, Enid,” Ron said, shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure there isn’t even a universe where those two end up together.”

“And my dad’s not gay,” Carl added flatly. “And he’s married to my mom. He has me, Enid. A child.”

“He could be…you never know!” Enid insisted. “What if, in another universe, your mom died, and after a while, your dad met him!”

“Okay, I think it’s time to go,” Carl said, standing up. You followed him, getting out of the booth as well.

“Okay, but listen!” Enid called, stepping out too. “They would both still hate each other, but your dad would look at him with, like…with anger but lust-"

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Ron tried not to laugh. 

“I kinda see her point,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Enid said immediately, looping an arm through yours as they all started walking out. “This is why you’re now my favorite. Not that any of you were my favorite to begin with.”

“Cool,” Carl muttered, hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh!” Enid suddenly gasped, eyes lighting up again. “The ship name would totally be something like Regan!”

The misty evening air hit you as you stepped outside, the diner sign glowing behind you.

“Bye, Maggie!” they all called back toward the door as it shut behind them.

Carl and Ron walked ahead, Carl slipping into the front passenger seat and Ron getting into the driver's seat. Enid, still having her arm looped with yours, still talking.

“Ew, stop,” Carl said, leaning back. “You’re like weird, okay? Why would people ship two straight guys just because they hate each other?”

“Because you never know,” Enid said dramatically, buckling her seatbelt. “People would post about them on Tumblr, no doubt.”

“What's Tumblr?” Ron asked as he started the car.

You paused for a second as you buckled in. “It’s like an app where people post stuff, photos, edits, and text posts. A lot of fandoms are on it. People make theories, ships, aesthetics, basically anything. It’s kind of chaotic but also really specific about random things.”

Carl glanced back at you from the front seat.

“That actually sounds terrifying,” he commented.

“You’re cool,” Enid said with a smile.

“Okay, let’s change the subject,” Ron said, shifting in his seat as he started the car.

“Ugh, finally,” Carl muttered, leaning back.

“Y/N, where do you live so I can drop you off?” Ron asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Uh…by the liquor store,” you said after a moment, pointing ahead as he started driving.

“Oh,” Enid said, turning slightly in her seat. “You live near all of us, actually.”

After a few minutes, he finally pulled up in front of your house.

“Here we are,” Ron said, smiling as he unlocked the doors.

“Thanks, guys. That was a nice hangout,” you said, stepping out with a small smile.

“See you at school tomorrow!” Enid called after you.

“Bye, Y/N,” Carl added, giving a quick wave.

“Bye, Y/N, and don’t forget your skateboard,” Ron said as he popped the trunk open.

“Oh, right. Thanks, guys. See you tomorrow,” you replied.

You walked around to the back, opened the trunk a bit more, and grabbed your skateboard. Stepping back onto the curb, you waved as Ron drove off, the car disappearing down your quiet neighborhood street.

You stood there for a moment, still smiling slightly, watching until their headlights were gone.

That’s when a loud door slam broke the silence.

You turned your head.

Across the street to your left was Coach Smith’s house. The front door had just swung shut hard. He stormed out, clearly angry, heading straight for his car.

His wife followed behind him, calling after him as she stepped onto the porch.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he got into the car, slammed the door, and backed out of the driveway. As he passed her, she was still yelling something you couldn’t quite make out.

Right before he sped off, he raised a hand and flipped her off. The car disappeared down the street, leaving nothing but the sound of tires fading into the distance.

You stood frozen for a second, skateboard in your hand.

Who would be dumb enough to date someone like that?

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