#I literally sat for three minutes straight and stared into the void when I reached the last panel

[0606-hyuck]

PUPPY LOVE

Word Count: 2.2K

THUMP THUMP THUMP 

"What the hell is that?" Renjun called from his bedroom in the general direction of his other roommates, who were relaxing in the living room. When he received no reply, and the hammering on their front door continued, Renjun made his way out into the other room. 

Chenle and Jisung had been curled up together on the couch, but when the noise started they had both startled and sat up straight, staring wide-eyed at the other two older boys. Jeno and Jaemin were looking between each other, debating whether or not it was a good idea to let the maniacal door-knocker into their apartment. 

"Is anyone going to answer the door?" Renjun replied irritated, ignoring the apprehension of his friends and walking towards the entrance. Just as Jisung was about to tell Renjun not to open it, he heard his name being called through the wooden door. 

"Jisung, are you home?" Came the frantic voice Jisung recognised as his close friend, Y/N. "Someone please answer, I really need your help."

All the boys turned to face Jisung, as if he had the answer to why you were agitatedly trying to bang down their door. Jisung sat frozen to the couch, unsure what to do, until Chenle sharply nudged him under the ribs with his elbow. "Answer the door, dummy."

Jisung reached the door and opened it quickly, his eyes taking in your dishevelled state only causing his anxiety levels to raise higher than a healthy level. He grabbed your forearm and gently pulled you into the apartment, silently asking you to explain your situation. 

Between shallow, shaky breaths, you managed to explain that you'd lost your dog, and by your unsteady hands and red, tear-stained eyes, the boys realised that this was a situation they had to take seriously. You'd come to them because you genuinely had no idea what else to do, and hoped they would be able to help. 

Shocked into silence by your revelation that you'd lost the dog they'd been looking after just hours earlier, it took Jisung and his friends a few long moments to finally kick themselves into action. Renjun, who was still standing, moved to the entrance and slipped a pair of sandals on hurriedly. He placed a hand on your shoulder and said, "I'll come back with you to your place so you can grab Saja's leash and some treats."

Barely registering your own head nodding, you allowed Renjun to lead you back to your own apartment to prepare for the search and rescue mission of your dog. After the door to their own apartment shut, Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin headed to their respective rooms to grab sturdy walking shoes and loose sweaters. The fact Jisung's arguably favourite dog had just done a runner seemed to take a longer time to register in Jisung's head, but when it did, he was a mess. 

Following his friend's leads and running to his room, he hastily threw on a pair of mismatched runners and was the first one ready to leave. "Come on!" He cried impatiently as his friends came back from their rooms, moving from foot to foot as he waited in front of the door. 

Jaemin eyed his younger roommate carefully before stating, "getting so worked up isn't going to help us find Saja."

Barely managing to roll his eyes, Jisung distracted himself by opening the door and ushering the others out into the hallway. "If I find Saja for Y/N, then she will like me more."

Both Jeno and Jaemin shared an incredulous look, but before either of them could respond you and Renjun came bursting from your apartment carrying a harness, leash, and bag filled with dog snacks. Without saying a word to the others, you guided them to the stairwell and down the floors as quick as your messily tied shoes could carry you. 

When you made it out onto the street, into the still-warm summer night air, you realised just how unprepared you actually were. It had been about ten minutes since Saja had disappeared on you, and you had no idea which way he had actually gone. He was there one second, and gone the next. 

"I lost him over there," you managed, pointing towards a dumpster by the side of your apartment building. "He could be anywhere by now."

"Okay, so here's what's going to happen," Renjun started, obviously the most clear-headed out of the six of you. "I'll take Y/N and go this way, Jeno and Chenle can go the opposite way, and Jaemin and Jisung can go that way."

Jisung found himself a little miffed that he wasn't able to pair off with you, but it made sense because neither of you were really in the right mind to effectively look for your dog together. At least Jaemin would be able to calm Jisung's worries. Renjun continued, "we will search for half an hour first before we start to regroup and search the pounds. If you see Saja, grab his collar and by god, don't let go. Understand?"

Everyone nodded, and with that silent agreement you all split off into your own directions. 

Jisung and Jaemin were given the task of searching north, and started heading off down a road which would eventually lead them to the river. For the most part, their search was wholly void of conversation as they both called Saja's name and peered behind rubbish bins, bus stops, and down darkened alleyways. After twenty-five minutes of fruitless searching, the road turned into a pedestrian only walkway and there really wasn't anything Jisung and Jaemin could do besides head forwards. 

As they checked behind a shrub way too small to hide the shiba inu they were after, Jaemin decided to finally break the silence. "When you said you wanted to find Saja to get Y/N to like you, what did you mean by that?"

Jisung tried to groan, but because of his nerves it came out more like an awkward voice crack. Managing to contain his nerves for a second, he said "I know how much Y/N loves this dog, and I'm really scared for her. The time I've spent walking him with her and seeing how much she fawns over him...Saja feels like he's my dog too."

Jaemin let out a short, affectionate laugh. "I could tell you liked Saja when he was staying with us, and that explains your nerves. But you completely avoided my question."

This time, Jisung did groan. "If you're trying to get me to admit I like Y/N, then you're wasting your time. You already know the answer to that." A beat of silence passed, and knowing he had Jaemin's full support, Jisung added, "I'm sick of feeling like a boy compared to you and Jeno and Renjun. I want Y/N to see me as a man, and I think that by finding her dog I might be a hero to her."

As Jaemin started cooing at Jisung's curious admission, Jisung shoved the older boy away from him with a huff and finally focused on the mission at hand again. Although it was summer, the light of the day was starting to fade, and the anxiety started to seep back in. In his peripheral vision, Jisung noticed a small movement. He didn't think too much of it, assuming it was just Jaemin, until he realised Jaemin had stopped paces back to tie up his shoe laces. Looking closer, Jisung's chest was filled with childlike hope as he spotted a familiar tan coat of fur. 

-

After searching for so long and finding absolutely nothing, you were just about ready to give up. Renjun, to his credit, had indulged in your worry and had been searching behind every single chair, bush, and object you came around in the hopes of finding your dog there, even though he knew half the things you two were looking behind were not big enough to conceal Saja anyway. 

At some point, you'd walked by the entrance to the subway station closest to your house and found Elodie and Yeonmi wandering around the area, aimlessly searching for your dog. In your fretful state, you'd completely forgotten to introduce your friends to Renjun, but it appeared no one blamed you and they'd been getting on fine so far. 

"Y/N, it's been half an hour," Renjun mentioned quietly, coming up to place a hand on your shoulder while you searched under a parked car. "I'll give Jaemin and Jeno a call and we can start deciding who goes to search which pounds."

Straightening up, you felt your cheeks dampen and you realised you'd started crying again. The thought of your beloved Saja being locked in a cold, dirty cage, terrified and entirely alone, was too much for your heart to handle. Elodie came up to you and quietly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close to her body and surrounding you in the warmth of her large jacket. 

Yeonmi rubbed small, slow circles on your back as Elodie released you, and reassured, "Saja being in a pound isn't great, but at least he's safe there. We will find him."

"Okay," you sniffled, wiping your nose on the tissue Renjun had kindly handed you earlier. "I guess we should go back." Renjun nodded resignedly, and started walking back the way you had come. Elodie let out a defeated, sad sigh, and you almost didn't hear your phone ringing over how loud she was exhaling. 

"Jisung?" You questioned in disbelief once you'd managed to grab your phone and read the caller ID. Your three friends halted in their steps and turned around to stare at you when they realised who was calling. They couldn't hear what Jisung was saying, but by the absolutely relieved smile that washed over your face they could tell it was good news. "Oh my god, I literally love you, Jisung! Okay, we'll be over as soon as possible."

Elodie and Yeonmi shared a knowing look at your praising of Jisung, and were happy to finally see the anxiety roll off your shoulders and a wide smile on your face. "Him and Jaemin found Saja down by the river, where Jisung and I usually took him on walks. I should have known!"

Putting your metaphorical running shoes on (you were actually wearing slides), you sprinted as fast as you could to where Jisung said he was, Renjun, Elodie, and Yeonmi trailing behind you begging you to slow down. With Saja's leash in one hand, and your phone gripped in your other, the concrete under your feet switched to grass as you approached Jisung and Saja's location. 

You detected two figures crouched down on the grass, stroking the fur of a familiar dog. As you got closer, Jaemin registered your presence and stood up, stepping away from Saja. His friend's sudden movement caused Jisung to also look towards you, and a shy smile graced his face as his hand held onto Saja's collar tightly. Jogging towards them and completely out of breath, you managed an 'oh my god, you found him' before you fell to your knees in front of your excited dog. 

Clearly oblivious to the commotion and panic he'd caused, Saja gave your cheeks a generous amount of slobbery licks, not quite sure why you were burying your face into his fur so tightly but thankful for the attention nonetheless. After a few long seconds, you pulled yourself away from your dog and clipped his leash onto his collar, making it harder for him to bolt away if he so chose to. 

Standing up on trembling legs, you passed the leash over to Jaemin; behind you you could hear that Renjun, Elodie, and Yeonmi had finally arrived. Through heavy, wheezy gasps Renjun panted, "damn, Y/N, who knew you were so speedy?"

Ignoring Renjun, you turned your attention to Jisung, the one who you assumed had found Saja and called you to tell you the great news. He stood over a head taller than you, and was watching you with a twinkle in his eyes - he was simply happy to see you so happy. 

Without thinking, you suddenly threw your arms around his neck in a surprise embrace. Jisung stumbled back slightly, totally unprepared for your affectionate attack, but managed to steady himself and place his hand on your lower back, subtly pulling you closer into him. You couldn't resist burying yourself into the space between his shoulder and neck, and he ran a gentle hand over your hair in an act of reassurance. "Everything is okay now."

"Oh Jisung, I was so so worried," you whispered into his t-shirt, feeling tears brimming in the corner of your eyes again and hoping you wouldn't leave a stain in the fabric. 

"I know," he soothed, "but Saja is safe now."

Regaining your composure after relishing in the warmth of Jisung's hug, you finally pulled away from him, earning yourself a sigh from the tall boy. Looking up at him and finding him slightly flushed, you stood on your tip toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, mere millimetres away from his lips. He let out a startled yelp, but didn't pull away, although his face bloomed a delicious colour of red when he realised all your friends were watching you with affectionate grins on their faces. 

"It's all thanks to you, Jisung!" You asserted happily. "I guess I really do owe you that dinner date now!"

Puppy Love [part eighteen]

Description: When you move into a new apartment, you’re pleasantly surprised to find out your neighbours are all attractive. Really attractive. You find yourself developing a crush on one of your said neighbours when he offers to help you train your dog, Saja, but you quickly realise he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing...

Taglist: @whosyourmama @chubbsdabunny @peachhyun @jising-jisang-jisung @bangpink123 @hiqhkey @chuus-slug @coolhootswtlove @ghjasksdk

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#puppy love #nct #nct dream #nct2020 #nct social media au #nct dream social media #nct dream au #nct jisung #jisung nct #jisung #park jisung #jisung imagine #jisung scenario #jisung x reader #renjun #jeno #jaemin #chenle #hellabts

[jewel-s-blog]

a nap for two - j.jh

genre: enemies(ish) to friends(for now), fluff

transfer student!jaehyun x gender neutral!reader

warnings: other than my bad writing? kind of a slow burn?

word count: 6.5k

inspired by this prompt from @yoonohprompts

plot: transfer student!jaehyun, is an unlikely friend in your final year of high school, but the two of you find yourselves cozily napping under the stairs together rather regularly

a/n: I’m thinking about making this a series, but depends on the feedback I guess. Also, I didn’t actually hate high school (quite the opposite actually, since I found it to be a happy time for me), but I made the oc hate school because I felt it fit with the story better so 🤗 enjoy!

[September 4]

It was kind of strange to see someone new transfer into what was the final year of hell that you were required by law to show up to. What made it even stranger was that most people who did transfer to your high school, mid-quarter, were usually military kids or other lost souls who had been kicked out of whichever previous hellhole whence they came. So when his fresh face walked onto campus, already a good month into senior year, all anyone could talk about was him.

Jung Jaehyun.

He was quiet, and didn’t seem to be very outgoing or the over sharing type, so naturally the theories around his sudden appearance began surfacing like crazy.

Some people said that his parents were these super rich research scientists for the military and they had moved out here to follow their work. Others spread rumors that he had an inappropriate relationship with one of his previous teachers—which you didn’t find hard too hard to believe considering... well, have you seen him?

But most of these theories kind of just went in one ear and out the other. You didn’t have any classes with him, which meant you never really got to have any real interactions with the guy. That meant that while you were aware of his somewhat enigmatic existence, you were really just more focused on needing to get your college apps done and have them looking good enough to make sure you weren’t drowning in debt going into adulthood.

To be honest, while you didn’t particularly love having to get up every morning to drag yourself to get your high school diploma, you still wanted your future to be funnier, happier, and brighter. And to you, that meant being able to go to college. But it wasn’t an easy feat, to say the least.

On top of your studies, there was sports practices, volunteer work, your part-time job, and the piano lessons that your mom convinced you not to quit nearly 7+ times in the past 14 years(the asian jumped out).

Due to the laundry list of obligations you had constantly looming over you, sleep became an elusive little thing. After about a month of running on an average of three hours of sleep per night, the only tea you had time for was the extremely caffeinated kind that filled your two liter flask day and night.

Eventually, you were in such a dire need of rest that you made it a point never to schedule things that took up your lunch time unless completely necessary. And rather than hitting up the cafeteria for a nutritious meal or the lastest gossip (usually about the mystery man himself), you settled for the space under the stairs of the newest building addition.

The place was cool, and quiet, and completely void of all others; which making it the perfect spot to spend the meager 25 minutes of lunch break to get some shut eye.

——————————

[October 12]

It had become routine for you to head straight for your nap-time spot as soon as the bell for lunch rang. Being a Monday made it that much more necessary for you to get to your spot so you could stretch out your legs on the chilled concrete floor and lean back against the backpack you used as a cushion against the just as chilled concrete wall.

You nonchalantly speed walk and whip out your phone, getting your slow jams Spotify playlist ready to shuffle for when you finally get into the perfect napping position.

Rounding the corner, just before your secret spot comes into view, you stop in dead in your tracks because you hear someone. Or more accurately, some people.

Apparently your “secret” spot wasn’t so much a secret anymore. You sigh in dissatisfaction at the thought that someone had the audacity to take away the one thing you looked forward in the craptastic day you were already having despite it not yet even reaching noon.

You hear a high pitched giggle, a sound you’ve become all too familiar with over the past four years of witnessing teenage hormones take over the masses of the student body. At one point, you were a part of those masses, but nothing lasts forever. Instead, it’s the low, baritone heavy voice that surprises you for a split second as it’s not one you can recognize. But once that split second is over, you take that one extra step that reveals the scene that you prepared yourself to find.

“A-hem.” You clear your throat, making your biting annoyance and presence known.

The two bodies face you in an instant, and the innocent shock you see on their faces actually makes you feel a little guilty for interrupting a moment that you really had no business butting into.

So you stand there a bit awkwardly, averting your eyes from the couple, but not allowing your feet to retreat. Staring at the wall, you think about succumbing to the tension in the now cramped space and apologizing. That is, until you hear the low voice reverb yet again, but with a haughty tone laced into it.

“Do you mind?”

Normally, you’d say that you have a particularly long fuse, but in this moment, you allow all the stress, lack of sleep, and frustrations of the day get the better of you. Darting up to look into the eyes that had just challenged you, you seeth back,

“Yes. Yes, I do mind.”

You let your peeved gaze fall onto the girl slightly hidden behind the shoulder of the taller figure before her. Letting it linger, to let her know that you were just as aggravated, if not more aggravated than her companion, she shrank down to hide herself more and let her hand find the side of his arm.

“C’mon. Let’s just go.” She whispers, clearly feeling more embarrassed the longer you hold your ground.

Frankly, this girl was someone you knew personally. She wasn’t in your immediate circle of friends, but you had worked on projects together and hung out outside of school on a few occasions. Basically, the two of you were pretty friendly. She also knew that you weren’t someone to be messed with as you had built a reputation of being amiable but deadly if the situation required.

“Jaehyun—,” she whines, “let’s go.”

He didn’t divert his eyes from you as she tugged at his shirt sleeve.

Jaehyun. That was his name.

You had forgotten momentarily since lately you had gotten so busy, your brain couldn’t register and recognize the unfamiliar face fast enough. But none of that mattered to you now. All you cared about was that you now had only 23 minutes to nap instead of your usual 25. So you add,

“Yeah, Jaehyun. I think it’s time for you to go.” You cock your head and allow a little smirk to form as you are satisfied with how this situation was quickly turning in your favor.

You couldn’t quite believe how mean you’d sounded considering that you’d normally been a pleasant person until senior year rolled around. But never had you really been in a situation that elicited quite the way you were acting in this moment. Whereas you’d normally bottle up the rude snarkniess that formed due to annoyance, you definitely weren’t holding it back now.

Jaehyun huffs, turning his back to you, before grabbing the girl’s hand and walking towards you. You side step, allowing space for them to pass, and didn’t fail to notice the scowl he aims at you while the girl shyly opts to look elsewhere until they were out of your line of sight.

Not about to waste another precious second of your daily rest, you settle into your comfy spot and stuff the white earbuds in place before hitting ‘shuffle’ and finally letting your eyelids descend. A deep sigh falls from your chest as sleep overcomes you until the alarm you’d set on your phone blared into your ears, signaling that it was time to take on the remainder of the day.

——————————

[October 13]

Tuesday morning passes rather quickly before you hear the glorious ring of the lunch bell sound through the classroom. Before anyone has anytime to even attempt making contact with you, you are back in your resting place, with the thankfully empty space swallowing your exhausted form.

To your dismay, it is not long until you feel like another presence has entered the space, making your eyes open reluctantly. Once your vision focuses, you are met with the view of a handsome figure standing before you.

It was a bit of a shock, as no one had ever interrupted your slumber before, but your body was just too tired to provide any physical reaction. So you continue looking up at him, not doing or saying anything before you see his lips moving yet hearing no voice come out with it. You remove one earbud from its place and ask,

“Did you say something?”

He chuckes before repeating, “Hi, I’m Jaehyun.”

A little smile creeps onto his face, thinning out his lips, and revealing two deep dimples that makes your heart nearly erupt. But you shake the feeling away, knowing that just 24 hours prior, you’d seen this very same person in a compromising state in the very same spot you sat in now.

Caught up in your thoughts, he takes your silence as a sign for him to continue the conversation on his own.

“y/n, right?”

And before you can even reply, or nod, or give any indication that he was indeed correct, he’s taking a seat next to you, no doubt aware of how his actions make you visibly uncomfortable.

“What are you—?” You start, voice admittedly a bit shaky due to the fact you were almost in snoozeville just moments ago and there was now another body in such unexpectedly close proximity to yours.

“I gotta hand it to you, this is a nice little getaway you’ve got here.” He cuts you off, looking straight ahead while raising his arms to place his hands gently behind his head.

Turning to meet his eyes with yours, you realize again that you had been silent, and had just been staring at him for a solid 10 seconds. Perhaps he realizes this too, because when your eye contact lingers just a little too long, he noticeably blushes and clears his throat while facing forward again.

So it’s all an act, you think to yourself. In the single interaction you did have with Jaehyun, you had already formed an impression of him in your head that he was your standard ‘blessed-with-heavenly-looks player’ who’d let all the female attention get to his head, boosting his ego, self confidence, and all the qualities of your neighborhood fuckboy.

But the rosy stain on his cheeks, and the quick reddening of his ears made you think different. Maybe he wasn’t actually the person you’d created in your mind of him. And maybe, like you had thought, it was just him acting. So you venture out a little to inquire,

“So... why exactly are you here?”

“Well... uhm...” He keeps his head straight forward again, feeling your gaze burning deep into the side of his right cheek. Evidently all traces of the confident 17 year old boy who had originally approached you was fading fast.

“Because if you knew I use this place as a getaway, then you’d also know that me having a getaway means that I don’t intend on sharing it with others.” Your monotonous tone slightly echoing off the concrete surroundings.

Taking your statement as an attempt at playful banter, he responds in an equally playful way.

“No sharing? Even for me?” Letting the adorable dimples make a reappearance.

“I don’t know you.” You deadpan.

“But you do know me. I just introduced myself. I’m Jung Jaehyun. And I know you, you’re y/n.” He wraps his jacket tighter around his chest to block anymore cool air from getting in, and crosses him arms, stuffing his hands into the crooks of his armpits.

“Okay, but I don’t know know you.” You question to yourself why you were letting this rally of questions and responses continue, knowing full and well that it was cutting into your beloved nap time. Making your priorities shift back to your original reason for being under the stairs in the first place you add,

“And I really don’t care about knowing you. All I care about is that before you came here, I was on the express train to dreamland. But now that you are here...” You don’t finish the sentence because you realize that would mean you admit to his presence having some kind of affect on you.

“Oh, so me being here really bothers you that much? I wonder why.” The smirk clear on his face yet again makes your irritance bubble over. He raises an eyebrow at you and moves his face impossibly closer to your own.

Scoffing at his implication, despite it being true, you shove your left earbud back into place and say,

“I don’t care what you do. Just don’t bother me when I’m trying to sleep. I already have enough things in my life doing that, and I don’t need you to be doing it too.”

With that you close your eyes again, leaning your head against the concrete hoping that there’s still enough time to at least get a good REM session in.

The slow beat of your music drowns your mind and lulls you back, but not before you hear Jaehyun negotiate,

“Ok, I won’t bother you. But only if I get to nap here too.” You feel him shift a bit in place before he too settles into a comfortable position and begins to doze off.

Eventually you do find yourself falling asleep, but it feels like less than five minutes later when the phone alarm goes off, jolting you awake. At first, you are unaware of the heavy head that rests on your left shoulder. But when you do notice it, you can’t help the warm feeling that washes over you as you peer down at the soft pale face snoring lightly against you.

Then the school bell rings, and you think that Jaehyun may stir from that, removing the heavily growing weight off of you. But he doesn’t. He keeps his head there, and continues to snore away softly.

Conflicted about what to do, you think about the best way to wake him up that would result in the least amount of embarrassment for the both of you. But soon enough, you begin to hear voices and footsteps ascending and descending the staircase above. And you know that if you don’t leave now, you may not make it to your next class on the fifth floor in the building that has no elevators.

So rather than from a decision of reasoning, but from a decision of panic, you quickly stand, letting Jaehyun’s unconscious body fall to the ground.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Covering your mouth after realizing what you’d just done. You extend your hands to reach down and help, but he’s already standing up and cupping the shoulder that he not-so-graciously fell on.

“It’s all good.” He says in his sleep jaded voice.

You almost swoon at the raspiness of his low timbre, but again choose to not let it show. You opt to check your lock screen, and face it to Jaehyun to show him the time.

“We have four minutes to get to class.”

He squints at your phone screen before clearing his throat and replying, “Okay.”

“Okay...” you return, “bye then.” Unsure how you should depart from this situation you decide to make it quick and painless, before briskly walking away.

Still in earshot, Jaehyun asks, “So I’ll see you around?”

You don’t stop when you call back to him, “Maybe.”

—————————

The next couple days go by somewhat normally.

Except when you were just about to succumb to the sleep you desparately needed on Wednesday, Jaehyun wordlessly sat himself next to you like he had done the previous day, and seemed to mimic your actions. You both woke up at the sound of your phone alarm and preceded to your classes without so much as a goodbye.

Thursday lunch came, and you were surprised to be greeted with an already sleeping Jaehyun sitting atop a dark blue blanket covering the cold concrete. You admired the way his chest gently rose and fell at a steady pace, and how his milky complexion looked so contempt despite the frown it adorned. Something else you noticed was that there was a space to the right of Jaehyun on the blanket under him. Almost as if he had intentionally made room for you to join him on it.

Going against what you’d assumed what the space was meant for, you chose to sit further in a corner away from him in case he didn’t actually intend to leave that space for you. Because if you did sit there, and he didn’t expect you to be there when he woke up, it really would be quite the embarrassment on your part.

So again, you fall asleep without exchanging words, and leave as soon as the bell shrills a warning for you to begin your five flight ascent.

——————————

Once Friday rolls around, you forget about Jaehyun and your nappy time. Because instead, you have to lead a meeting for one of your volunteer clubs and you had stayed up the whole previous night preparing for it. It didn’t help that all morning you were running around campus making copies of event sign-up sheets and getting signatures from the club advisor.

So when Jaehyun wakes up to the sound of ringing echoing off the walls, he finds himself disappointed that you didn’t show. And due to the busy last 24-hours you had, the possibility of of a frown on his face when he fails to find yours next to him never even crosses your mind.

It is later in the day, when you are grabbing your gym bag from your locker, that you’re startled by a face appearing once your locker door is shut. You hadn’t heard him come up to you thanks to the earbuds that seemed to constantly occupy your small sound receivers. But Jaehyun’s puppy-like features are suddenly next to you, and out comes a little stumble back with a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

After collecting your composure, you take out the left earbud again.

“Jeez, you scared me.” You say, bringing a hand to touch over your heart.

He chuckles, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” and scratches the back of his head while retreating a little to give you some space. “I just...well...you weren’t there today...”

A bit confused at the vagueness of his sentence, it takes you a moment before you realize the meaning behind it. Your eyes widen at him and then hastily look away.

“Oh... yeah... I had a meeting today, so I couldn’t nap at lunch like ususal...” You grab at the strap of your gym bag and give it a squeeze, not making eye contact with the figure looking down at you almost as if you had committed a crime against him and you felt guilty about it. But why? It’s not like you had an obligation to show up... right?

a/n: So that’s it for now. I’ve had this in my drafts for like a month and idk what to do with it anymore so I’d really like some feedback! I’m not even sure if I did this plot line justice or if readers are even interested in this plot line so yeah. Maybe if people are interested, I’d consider making this a series? But pls let me know! Thanks! -jewel

#jung jaehyun #jaehyun #nct127 #nct u #nct #jaehyun fluff #high school jaehyun #jaehyun au #student jaehyun #yoonoh #jung yoonoh #a nap for two #jewel-s-blog

[maryjanewannabee]

Meaning of Life

Summary: Being Peter Parker’s best friend isn’t always easy, especially in the last few months when he seemed thoroughly troubled after the Infinity War. You’ve been waiting for him to open up to you with no success, until a scuffle in the streets shows you his true colors

A/N: So this actually made me hella emotional but I’m excited about it because it’s the first thing I’ve written in ages. Hope yall like it. I could make it a series, but imma need yall’s input. Hope yall like it!

Song: Meaning of Life by Kelly Clarkson

  I walked through the halls, gripping my books tightly. I ducked my head and avoided those around me, trying to avoid being touched. I had made it to the end of the hall when I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. I whipped around, flinging the hand off my shoulder and was prepared to give the owner a talking-to before I realized who it was. 

“Careful there, kitty.” Peter said, grinning. It was nice to see him smile, if only for a moment.

 “Parker, some warning would be nice.” I laughed, catching my breath.

“Sorry. We still good for tonight?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the library at 6?” I said. 

“Yeah that sounds great, see you then.” He grinned, and then rushed off. Boy was lucky he was cute because he stunk at American HIstory. 

I opened the library doors at 6:15, texting Peter that I was there and that I know I suck for being late. I sat down at the nearest table, and got my homework out. I began to work as I waited for Peter. As 6:30 rolled around, I checked my phone for any word from Peter. Nothing. I called him, only to go straight to voicemail. I continued with my work until 7 when I finally decided to leave. If he wanted help, he should have been here. I was a little hurt at getting stood up, but I held my head high as I exited the library.

It had gotten dark and I turned right, trying to find a taxi to go home. The street was bare, so i started walking. I walked past a group of guys who whispered as I passed. I wrapped my coat tighter around me, gripping the stun gun in my coat pocket. They began to follow me, and I sped up. They sped up. I picked up a light jog, but before I could round the street corner, I was pulled back, hard, and pushed to the ground.

“Where’s the little bitch off to tonight?” A man with missing teeth and dirty hair leaned over me, his smell foul. Three other men surrounded him. In a flash, I pulled my stun gun out of my pocket, sticking it right into the closest man’s temple. He screamed out in pain and I stood up, running the opposite way. Another man grabbed me, knocking the weapon out of my hand and pushing me against the wall.  I struggled against him, but he had his forearm pressed against my throat, his other hand undoing my belt.

“The bitch is gonna pay for that one.” He snarled. I kicked up but was too close to him to get anywhere. He struggled with the zipper on my jeans, and just when I was bracing myself for the worst, he was gone. The pressure on my throat subsided and I fell to the ground, gasping for air. I could hear the unmistakable thuds of the other men getting punched and pushed but I was too focused on catching my breath to look up. Suddenly, the evil men were gone and I was being helped to my feet by strong arms.  Still fighting for breath, I began to panic. I had been saved by this man only to be raped still. His red and blue clothes mixed into a blur and the panic in my chest grew.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” The man whispered, behind a mask. He wrapped his arm around my waist, trying to help me up, but his touch felt like a hot prod against my back and I screamed and fell back against the wall. I screamed again as he crouched to meet my line of vision but suddenly the mask was gone. 

“Hey, hey, it’s me, (Y/N). You’re okay.” Peter was crouched in front of me, his green eyes drawing me back to the present. Suddenly, I noticed the rain. I noticed the cut that stung above my eye. And I noticed that Peter was in a Spider-Man costume. Only it looked identical to the real thing.

“Peter?” I managed, tears streaming down my face. He embraced me and picked me up. 

I must have blacked out from the shock because suddenly we were in his apartment. He was standing in front of me, handing me a hoodie and sweatpants. 

“You’re gonna get pneumonia if you don’t dry off. You can change in there.” He nodded towards a bathroom. He still was wearing his costume, but i began to realize it wasn’t just some cheap fabric from the costume store. I changed slowly, my body aching. I looked in the mirror, assessing the damage. I had bruises everywhere, and my eye was starting to go black. I took a deep breath and walked into Peter’s living room. I sat on the couch, wrapping myself in the nearest blanket. Peter soon emerged from his bedroom, also changed and mostly dry except the mop of curls on his head. 

“Hey.” He said, quietly.

“You saved me.” I whispered. He hesitated as he sat down in an armchair across from me. 

“Just watching out for the little guy.” He whispered. 

“You’re Spider-Man.” I said, trying to figure everything out. 

“Yeah.” He whispered, hanging his head. 

“You never came to the library.” I said quietly, tears forming. 

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry.” He crossed the room, sitting by me, reaching out before stopping himself. “There was a...thing.”

“Were you on Titan with Iron Man?” The shock seemed to have affected my conversations skills. I went straight to the point. A dark cloud seemed to cover his face when I asked, his back hunching over as he stood and walked away from me. “What happened up there?” I pushed. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“A fight, obviously.” His voice was low and dark. 

“Cut the bullshit, Peter.” I snapped. “If you were up there, it explains so much. Why your grades have faltered, why you’ve lost your sense of humor, why you’re pushing everyone away. Peter, you kissed me and then suddenly you were jumping off a bus-”

“Look I know!” Peter snapped, turning to face me. “The jolly purple asshole snapped and I blew away in the wind. Just dust. Nothing super about me. And I felt everything.” His voice broke and I stood up, crossing the room to him. His head was hanging as he explained. “I felt it before everyone else. That something was wrong. Everything was tingling and I didn’t know what was happening, but I- I did. And Mr. Stark held me as I literally blew away and then there was nothing. Everything was gone. Just like one, big, dark void that felt like years. I stared into that darkness for 12 minutes but it felt like hundreds of years. And then I was back. So yeah, how am I supposed to continue like nothing happened when my normal was snatched right out from under me?”

He was crying by now and I just embraced him. I had no answers. This boy was so young and had experienced so much. I held him as he sobbed and I cried into his toned shoulder. 

“I’m here for you, Peter.” I whispered. “I don’t have any answers. But I’m here.”

#tony stark #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #marvel #spiderman #marvel imagine #infinity war spoilers #Spider Man: Homecoming #infinity war

[theysayitsonlyapapermoon-blog]

Lo Siento: 1912

Stories of Héctor and Imelda throughout their lives, and, for good measure, their deaths.  All featuring some variation of an apology.

For whatever reason, they had to apologize a lot.

(Part 1)

Héctor develops a crush.  Or gets crushed.  One of the two. 

1912

When he next spoke to her, it was in a moment of inevitable and rising panic.

Not panic for him, of course. For him it was more of a light anxiety.

He wasn't sure what compelled him to do it, a smart person would make a practice of avoiding things that caused undue anxiety, and Imelda Rivera was certainly on that list. But, as many an adult was prone to point out: for a smart kid, Héctor did a lot of stupid things.

He saw her running up and down by the train tracks while standing inside Senor Flores' shop across the street. Her dress was a bright purple color, impossible to miss against the burnt orange sunlight filtering through the mountain backdrop outside. He had learned to recognize her from a distance, the way a wise rabbit learned to recognize a coyote as a defensive strategy.

She slowed down at random and began to meander in circles, wringing her hands.

"You gonna pay for that, amigo?" Flores eyed him warily.

Héctor looked down at the brown paper package of processed sugar in his hands. The whole reason he was there in the first place was to fetch them for Señora Gutierrez. He rummaged in his pockets for the pesos she had given him and slapped them on the counter. When Flores shifted to the register for his change, two candies vanished from the front counter into Héctor's pocket. Partly out of spite.

The sun was halfway obscured by the horizon when he left the shop. He deliberated turning down the street and heading straight back through town. The last train ran fifteen minutes ago and most of the crowd had dispersed into the plaza. Gutierrez would expect him back soon and the woman wasn't exactly patient.

Imelda started yelling, just loud enough he could make out, "Óscar!" followed by, "Felipe!" into the distance. Héctor looked down at his bag and sighed. He was always late anyway.

"Señorita!" Héctor called, arriving at the tracks.

Imelda whirled around, the purple skirt actually made a swooshing sound with her turn. A few strands had escaped from her hair ribbons, getting tugged violently through the wind. A curious expression shrouded her face. He had never seen her look frightened before.

Héctor swallowed. He hadn't actually come up with anything to say and Imelda clearly wasn't going to help him out. "Is everything okay?" he finally managed.

He could palpably see the conflict draw over Imelda's face. She looked him up and down, frowning like she wanted very much to loudly and defiantly tell him off right then but she couldn't quite bring herself to.

Just as he was about to back away entirely, she confessed, "I can't find my brothers."

Héctor froze, considering.

"Well, we could split up. I could go that way and look," Héctor pointed south down the track line. "And you could go that way."

Imelda started to nod. "Alright, está bien," she turned north and started walking up the track. After five paces she suddenly turned back around. "Wait, what if you find them and I can't find you?"

"Umm," Héctor looked around. The last rays of the dying sun flashed on the metal rails. Soon it would be dark and almost impossible to find much of anything outside of town.

"Yeah, maybe we should— I'll just follow you." He trudged after her, walking through the dead grass alongside the tracks. Imelda's boots crunched over the layers of rock that made up the track bed. The purple dress actually had a darker purple pattern running through it. Maybe not expensive, but it had to cost some money.

She'd last seen the boys by the train station. The twins were fascinated with machinery, especially ones with moving wheels, and liked to watch the engines come in. She had been talking to one of her school friends at the shop next door when the 5:15 train arrived. After her friend left, she turned around and they were gone. She'd figured they'd be somewhere within eye-shot of the train but after combing the station there was still no sign of them.

"Maybe we should go back and check again," Héctor suggested.

"I already looked."

"But they might've gone back, that's where you were last, sí?"

"Ay! It's getting dark," Imelda twisted her fingers inside the palm of her opposite hand.

"Don't worry, we'll find them," he said, half sure she wasn't listening to him at all. She looked back down the tracks. The brick and adobe station building was a mere dot in the distance, practically invisible in the twilight. Lamps were starting to turn on inside Santa Cecilia.

"Maybe we should go back to the church. Get a search party," Héctor offered.

Imelda cupped her hands and yelled, "Óscar! Felipe!" She sighed, nervous. "Maybe we should go back—" she started.

A tiny noise, something high and faint in the distance, perked up in Héctor's ear. He stopped her. "Do you hear that?"

Imelda stared, first at him, then off into the landscape. The noise came up again, a little louder and then repeated. He saw in her face that she'd heard it too.

"Up there," she pointed to a black, rather square shape, sitting far off in the short grass, just to the left of the tracks. Imelda raced ahead, her skirt hiked up practically to her knees.

The shape turned out to be an old box car, turned onto its side, completely black and ashen. The underbelly of the thing hanging open and vulnerable. The metal looked gnarled and melted in places, one wheel was utterly missing. From inside they could hear the boys shouting for Imelda.

"¡Qué demonios! What are you doing in there?" Imelda shouted at the monolithic black undercarriage of the boxcar.

"We found a cool hideout!" one of the boys replied.

"But now we can't get out!" the other finished.

"It's dark in here."

"And it smells!"

"I swear, I'm gonna bury you two in Veracruz with Santa Anna's leg," Imelda threatened. She climbed onto the car's connection box, careful to avoid the shattered metal piece that was once supposed to latch onto another boxcar. The ladder that had once ran from the bottom of the car to the roof was now turned sideways, parallel to the ground. Imelda set one foot against the long, connecting rod that held the ladder together and used the rungs to boost herself up to the top. Slowly she rose into a standing position, balancing carefully on the sideways ladder. "How did you boys get up here?" she wondered aloud.

"We climbed!"

"On the ladder!"

"Get us out!"

"Just a second," Imelda sat on the front of the boxcar and swung her legs over, standing at last on top of the huge car.

No one asked Héctor to follow her up, but he did so anyway. It was still hot out despite the nightfall, and the cold metal actually felt like a break. It was slippery, though. Hard to balance. Imelda had made the climb almost without thinking. He had to squint in the fading light for the next hand hold, curl his toes on the metal to keep from slipping. By the time he'd made it to the top, Imelda was sitting at the edge of the boxcar's sliding door, mercilessly kicking at it with both boots.

There was a small, pitch black opening in the boxcar, like someone had cracked the huge sliding door open and left it to rust that way. The metal made a loud, painful squeak each time she kicked it, but it obviously wasn't opening any further.

"Um, Imelda—?" he approached cautiously.

"What?"

"I don't think it's going to budge."

She kept kicking, eliciting nothing more than a loud metallic noise that mingled with the voices screaming below.

Héctor sat down, letting his feet dangle into the dark void inside the boxcar. The bag of sugar he sat beside him. The gap was small, about half as wide as the rungs on the ladder had been spaced. But if the boys could fit through it shouldn't be too difficult—

He let both legs vanish into the gap. The door was just far enough to let him slip through without scraping his nose. He held onto the top of the boxcar with both hands and lowered himself down. The metal stopped shaking as Imelda finally noticed what he was doing.

"Héctor, wait!" She shouted just as he let himself drop. The boys yelped.

He landed on what felt like a pile of dried grass or leaves. A ton of the stuff got kicked up into the stifling air inside the boxcar and forced the three of them to cough violently. It smelled like ash.

"What did you do that for?" Imelda yelled down at him. If he squinted just right he could see the outline of her face against the violet sky outside.

"I'm alright," he coughed once, batting flakes away from his face. He looked around. The only available light was coming from the crack in the ceiling but he could just make out a dark silhouette about as tall as his chest with two round, head like features on top. "¿Están ustedes dos bien?" he asked.

"We want to go home!" They said in perfect unison.

"I don't think they're hurt or anything," he shouted back to Imelda.

"Eso es genial," she responded, less enthused than he expected, "now how are you going to get back up?"

He hadn't thought of that.

The distance he'd fallen wasn't exactly far, but the space up to the door was at least twice as tall as he was and there was nothing on the smooth metal walls to climb onto. Compounding that was the surrounding utter darkness. If there was anything around to use for climbing he'd be hard pressed to find it.

"You don't have a match or anything?" he asked Imelda.

"Afraid not."

"I guess— go back and get help?"

"Don't leave us!" one of the boys screamed.

"We're scared!" They scrambled into the available light, two perfectly identical bowl-cut hair little boys, staring up at Imelda with dark, pleading eyes.

"Hey, no, it's alright—" he reached out, kneeling a little so he'd be at their height. The boys just stared at him.

Imelda was less comforting. "Boys, this is Héctor. Since he has literally no choice but to sit with you until I come back, I want you to treat him nicely, comprendes?"

"Sí," they groaned.

"Héctor—" she trailed off. "Just— don't do anything, por favor."

"Sí," he said flatly.

She disappeared from the opening, leaving nothing but sky and a few metallic scraping noises as she made the climb down.

The boxcar was eerily silent for about two seconds.

"Who are you again?" one of the boys asked.

"I'm— Héctor."

"Why is your name Héctor?" the other asked.

"Uhh, it just always has been, I guess."

"I'm named after our grandfather."

"So am I."

"Oh. That's nice."

"He's dead now."

"So is mine."

Héctor didn't know quite what to do with that. "I'm sorry about that. Which of you is—"

"That's Óscar," the one on the left pointed to his brother.

"That's Felipe," the one on the right did the same thing.

"But it's okay if you don't remember."

"Most people don't."

"I'll try, I guess." It could've just been the light, or lack thereof, but there was nothing whatsoever to distinguish one from the other. They were about six years-old. Both dressed in black pants and the button down white shirts Sor Josefina made for all the church kids.

"Can you whistle?"

"Imelda can whistle but we can't."

Héctor tried, only coming up with dry air. "Guess not. I know a magic trick, though." He fished one of the round candy pieces out of his pocket and held it up the dim light. He shut his hand, twisted his wrist and slowly opened each finger in succession to reveal an empty palm. He reached behind one of the boy's ears and pretended to pull the candy out of it.

"Ta da—" the twins just looked confused. Maybe the trick needed more light. He gave them the candy anyway.

"It's too hot in here." Óscar, he thought it was Óscar, pulled at the front of his shirt.

"It smells like something died."

Héctor took a knee and motioned for the kid's arm. He folded over the cuff of the shirt sleeve, creasing it till the fold stayed.

He lost count of the questions after that.

"What is all this stuff?"

"I think it's ash."

"Why does the train carry ash?

"What is ash?"

"It's like the stuff left over after a fire. Try not to breathe too much of it in, huh?" He finished rolling Óscar's sleeve up to his elbow, tucking the fabric in on itself so it wouldn't come undone. Whatever Josefina used on those shirts made them sturdy and thick. He'd roll his up to the shoulder some days, especially in the summer. Óscar looked down curious at Héctor's work and then gave him the other arm.

"Have you ever ridden a train?" Felipe leaned on Héctor's knee.

"Once." He'd gotten as far as San Gerolamo before he got caught and sent back, but he didn't want to give the twins any ideas so he left those details out. "How about you two?"

"We've been on three trains."

"One in Mexico City."

"That was the biggest one."

"And then one in Veracruz."

"And then one to come here. Me next." Héctor finished with Óscar's shirt sleeves and started on the cuff eagerly thrust out in front of his face.

"They let us ride in the engine room for part of it."

"Imelda was muy enojado—"

"She said we were lost."

"She yelled."

"Hmmm—" Héctor glanced meaningfully at the boys. "This happens a lot, then?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Imelda yells all the time."

"She probably wouldn't if you didn't run off." He gave Felipe's sleeve one last tug to make sure everything held. The boxcar was still stuffy and reeked of burnt dust but at least it was something. "You should apologize to your hermana, okay? She yells because you made her worried."

"That's dumb."

"Are you Imelda's boyfriend?"

"Alright, forget I said anything."

He was saved by light scraping noises of someone climbing back onto the ceiling.

When he craned his head up towards the sky, all he saw was dark. The scraping noises had gotten louder and erratic. An animalistic grunting sounded. Metal clacked. There was a loud, violent rip and tiny, near invisible white particles rained from the ceiling.

"What is that—ay!"

Héctor grabbed each child by the back of the collar and yanked them away from the open door. He pushed them back into the far corner, one behind each arm. They huddled behind him. Something flat and cold and blunt poked him in the back, preventing him from pressing any further into the wall.

"Silencio, silencio, it's okay, just be quiet." He fixed his eyes on the band of dim light for the slightest movement, the slightest warning that whatever was up there was trying to enter inside.

The growling noise turned deep and terrifying. He was pretty sure the thing was clawing at the doorway. If they could fit through then—

He lost control of the boys and one started to scream, followed quickly by the other.

"Don't—" he paused, he was never going to get them quiet at this rate.

But if pretending they weren't there wasn't an option then maybe they could pretend to be something worse than what was out there.

"Make it loud!" he changed his mind. "Roar, yell— try to sound scary—"

He pulled on the metal bar at his back and found from the rusty creak it made that it was actually some sort of shelf sticking out of the wall. He boosted himself up and crawled on it. He raised a fist over his head and punched the ceiling as hard as he could, creating a loud, vibrating, metal racket. He yelled.

The twins started to shout along with him. Instead of crying, soon they were roaring. Héctor banged on the door. They blocked out the noise of whatever animal was there. They yelled until their throats scraped.

Something heavy dropped straight down into the boxcar and they all jumped. The shelving unit he was kneeling on groaned and swayed.

"Knock it off, idiotas! It's me!" Imelda shouted at them.

"Imelda!" The twins ran to her. She had dropped a wooden ladder into the boxcar, which explained the large banging noise from that direction. Héctor leaned to get up and the shelf jolted under him. He heard a loud screech and before he could properly react the shelf dropped out and he was thrown forward.

He landed so hard his ears started to ring. His face felt white hot, his nose swollen and running. His mouth stung all over. His lower lip cracked. He tasted blood. There was a spot on his forehead that collided with something sharp, it felt like a nail between his eyes.

Something lifted him up under his arms into a sitting position. Light pierced sensitive eyes and he turned away. When his ears stopped screaming he could make out the echo of Imelda yelling "I'm so sorry, Héctor! I'm so, so sorry," over and over.

She pressed some light fabric into his hand and then guided his hand to his face, holding it there. Her other hand she used to lean his head back a little. She had a lantern on the floor between them, the flickering warm light hit under her chin and nose and brow in manner more eerie than anything. The effect put her eyes all in shadow.

"He's dead! Is he dead?!" one of the twins exclaimed in fascination.

"Look at all the blood!" the other one cried.

"¡Dios mío! Give him some space, you vultures!" Imelda shouted at them. "You've caused enough trouble today." She pushed down a little too hard at the area over his nose and pain flared all the way up through his skull. He tried to get up but she held him in place.

"Mmmp- ppurrts—" he mumbled.

"What?" Imelda leaned in.

"It hurts. Your hand—"

"OH! Oh," she let his hand go, mumbling another apology.

He groaned, tipping his head back. Everything neck up still felt like a bonfire. "You should keep pressure on it," she suggested. "Stop the blood." He reinforced his hold on the light rag she'd given him.

"We thought you were a jaguar," Felipe told her.

"Héctor was trying to save us," Óscar added.

"I think you heard a coyote," Imelda said, "I saw it run off."

"Where'd you get the ladder?" Héctor mumbled with his nose pressed closed.

"I sort of— borrowed it."

"Borrowed?"

"We'll give it back. How's your nose? Let me see."

He pulled the cloth away and tried sitting up. His whole face felt like a giant bruise. One of his nostrils swelled and started to run and he clamped the cloth back on.

"Lo siento mucho. Boys, tell Héctor you're sorry, he got hurt trying to help you."

The boys chorused an apology in unison.

"It's really my fault, I shouldn't have climbed on that thing."

"Oh, I know that," Imelda stood up, knocking ash off her skirt. "But I still feel awful about it. You didn't have to help me with them." She picked up the lantern in one hand and extended the other towards him.

It took a second for Héctor to put it together that she was offering to help him stand. He felt dizzy.

It took awhile to get back into town. Getting the ladder out of the boxcar took a bit of effort, especially since Imelda kept waving off Héctor's assistance on the grounds that he was injured. She finally managed to pull it up and just tossed it over the side of the boxcar so she wouldn't have to bother with it on the climb down.

The boxcar door was littered on the outside with crunchy white particles and the occasional bit of ripped paper. So much for his errand.

They stopped once to return the ladder and the lantern to the side of a small adobe hut on the way back into town. From there they had just enough street light to make their way without fear of getting lost any further. His wounds had stopped actively bleeding, but he was pretty sure he looked like a mess. There were blood droplets on his shirt and his pant legs were covered in dust and grime from kneeling in that boxcar so long.

The twins each held one of Imelda's hands as they walked, monotonously informing her how tired they were every dozen paces or so. At one corner they accidentally bumped as Héctor tried to move left and Imelda tried to lead the boys right.

"Where are you going? The church is—" Imelda pointed right towards the building at the end of the winding cobblestone road, bell tower standing conspicuously over all the low standing red and white houses.

"I know, I just have to take care of something," Héctor passed her.

"Are you kidding? You're still all bloody—"

"I'm already crazy late," Héctor started down the fork's left hand side. "You go home. I'll be fine."

Imelda looked to the church and then back to Héctor. "With your luck, that coyote is going to track you down and devour you in the dark." She marched after him, pulling her brothers along by the hand.

"Imelda!" They whined in unison.

"Hush, consider this penance for your behavior earlier," she scolded them.

"You really don't have to—" Héctor started.

"We don't mind at all," Imelda strode confidently despite the little protests coming from Óscar and Felipe.

Héctor's destination was a little restaurant on the northside of town, only a few blocks from the church. The swinging door out front was painted a very bright green, but it was harder to tell at night. Every window on the first floor was plastered with a sign, too dark to read. A banner reading Gutierrez in bright red script hung over the doorway. Music could faintly be heard from inside and Héctor realized he'd been missing mariachi night.

Instead of walking through the front, Héctor led them behind the building to a plain door in the back. He rapped loudly on it to be heard over the music.

The door flew open. A familiar face in a white dinner jacket and apron stood silhouetted in the active kitchen light.

He took one look at Héctor and crossed himself. "Tía!" His voice boomed over his shoulder.

"Gracias, Ernesto," Héctor said.

The young man chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't wait to see how messed up the other guy is, eh chamaco?" One of Ernesto's large hands came down to affectionately tousle Héctor's hair.

"It wasn't a fight," Héctor said.

"Ay dios, Héctor!" Señora Gutierrez elbowed Ernesto to get out the doorway. "I've had Jorge and Carlos out looking for an hour, ¿Dónde has estado?" She knelt down, hand under Héctor's chin, turning his head this way and that to survey the damage. Her normally round, cheery face was pulled tight and creased, thick eyebrows pulled down. "What happened?"

"He was helping me find them," Imelda explained. "They were hiding in an abandoned boxcar and, well, there was an accident and he fell."

Tía clicked her tongue. "Doesn't always pay to do right, huh, muchacho? Does this hurt?" She touched her index finger to the tip of his nose. He felt a dull ache.

"A little."

"I don't think it's broken." She glanced around at Imelda and the twins, as if noticing them for the first time.

"They ran off?" Tía asked. Imelda nodded. Tía sized them up quickly. "You gemelos should stick closer to your hermana. La Llorona comes at night and steals wandering children to replace the ones she lost," her eyes took on a mischievous glaze. The boys looked at each other, uncomfortable.

"Let's get you cleaned up." She rose on aching knees, gently pushed Héctor by his shoulders into the restaurant. "Ernesto, have José make a few extra plates."

"Sí, Señora."

He took a deep breath. The air stung the little cut on his lip. "Tía, I lost the sugar," Héctor told her.

"I know. It's alright, mijo."

"I didn't know you had a tía," Imelda said.

"Huh? Oh, we're not— she's sort of everyone's tía. We all call her that."

"Oh," Imelda pulled one of her brothers to her side. His head was starting to loll on the back of his chair, eyes lazy and closing. They sat at a small table in the front of the kitchen, just clear of the high traffic of waitstaff heading back and forth over the barrier between the cooking and dining area. Ernesto was taking frequent breaks, the first to give Héctor a spare shirt, and the others to bring them more food and hear the day's story over again.

"Pretty resilient for such a chaparrito," he clapped Héctor's back proudly. Héctor winced. He felt much better now that he was free of bloodstains and Tía only had to bandage the cut on his forehead, but everything above the collar was still awfuly sore.

Imelda watched Ernesto head into the dining area with a tray full of food. "Do you live here or something? Everybody here knows you."

"No, I lived at the church my whole life," he explained. "But Tía lets me eat here whenever I want and I'll do little jobs for her. We've been friends since I was, well, them," he pointed at the twin nodding off on Imelda's shoulder. The other was sprawled out over another chair, head resting on his sister's lap, already fast asleep.

"I used to sneak in to listen to the music, there's a bad lock on the second floor— it's unimportant. Anyway, she caught me once and told me if I swept out the kitchen in the morning I could stay for as long as I wanted and it sort of took off from there."

Imelda nodded in understanding. "So, the guitar—"

"Technically is hers."

Imelda didn't reply, turning instead to look out the kitchen and into the dining room where the band was beginning another set.

Héctor looked down at his hands, still holding onto the torn up bloody rag Imelda had given him. He hadn't noticed it in the dark, but here in the properly lit kitchen he could plainly see, in between the bloodstains, the rich shade of purple in the original fabric. His fingers closed around it.

A/N:

- I'm pretty sure that Oscar and Felipe were younger than Imelda. There is a reason she's functionally parenting them here more than just the expectation of the time period, but we'll get into that later.

-The first rail line in Mexico went up in 1873 from Veracruz to Mexico City after a ton of starts and stops in construction for political reasons. After that most of the rail transport were built by foreign companies, British, French, and American. In 1909 the government created a company to bring the main rail lines under national control, Ferrocarriles Nacionales de México (FNM). Throughout the revolution trains were obviously a valuable target for revolutionaries and for bandits, they made transportation cheaper and the land more valuable. A lot were either neglected or damaged or co-opted by revolutionaries.

-General Santa Anna (yes, the Alamo guy) famously held a funeral with full military honors for his amputated leg after losing it to French grapeshot during the Pastry War (not making this up). The leg was buried in Santa Anna's hacienda in Veracruz in 1838, however he had it dug up and brought to Mexico City in a lavish parade when he assumed the presidency in 1842, after which it was reburied. And then dug up again by angry rioters. His prosthetic leg was captured in 1847 by the 4th Illinois Infantry during the Mexican-American war and brought back to the state where it remains to this very day. Technically the leg was no where near Veracruz in 1912, but "I'm going to bury you in Veracruz then rebury you in Mexico City and then protesters will dig you up and drag you through the streets" doesn't roll off the tongue.

-San Gerolamo is a place I completely made up. Named for Gerolamo Emiliani, the patron saint of orphans.

-I originally started this as a sort of origin story for Héctor's gold tooth (the tooth was the first clue I picked up on in the movie--) but after watching it again, I'm pretty sure Héctor didn't actually have a gold tooth in life. I think his skeleton form has one just because the guitar has one and not the other way around. But I liked everything else happening between Héctor and Imelda and the twins so I kept it and just made it a general face-meet-metal accident.

#coco #hector/imelda #hector x imelda #my fic #lo siento

[8bityeol]

Who Are You?

Summary : The first letter you receive from Happiness Delight simply demands you to respond, and knowing full well you shouldn't, you write one back. 

Word count : 5.6k

Genre: Fluff / Angst 

You stumbled up the stairs with your hands braced against Molls shoulder for dear life. The puddles your heels had had the unfortunate fate of meeting were lit by the orange glow of the street lamps, but still, you stepped into another. Molls nearly slipped on the cobblestone, but your hands were quickly at her waist.

"Shit, how are we gonna get inside!" she said. "Fucking wet stone. Who thought of this?"

Your hand aimed to place a finger at your lips, but the digit ended up somewhere along your cheek. "The neighbours!"

"I'm being quiet," her voice was an oddly loud whisper.

Stood before the door, your hand dug inside your bag until you felt the cold but familiar set of keys. Suddenly feeling the chill biting at your exposed skin, you wedged the door open. You stepped in and Molls fell into you, closing the door on her way.

"Take off your shoes you idiot," You said as she absentmindedly pushed you.

"No, I'm going straight to bed," she said. "See you in the morning. And thanks for letting me stay."

You shook your head and watched as she disappeared up the stairs in a clack of heels. Stupid, you thought to yourself the moment you heard a soft thud, either she'd found your bed or she'd slumped down on the floor somewhere. She was always somewhat of a ditz, but her clumsiness doubled by tenfold with the odd glass of wine or gin.

"Don't throw up on my bed!" You said. "And you're welcome."

"I won't!" She shouted.

You slipped on your slippers and walked to your living room, realistically, you should've joined Molls and crawled down into bed, but you were still buzzing with euphoria. You'd made it, you'd made your mark in the most cutthroat industry, who could sleep after that?

You reached down to the book that lay half open on your coffee table. The Flowers of Mist. A psychological mystery novel set in a seemingly idyllic neighbourhood. Winner of the Debutante Award, rated 4.5 stars by the Daily Mint and called the next Stephen King.

The best part of it all? All 427 pages were written by you.

Today your publishing company had held a dinner in your honour. The feeling of going to a party honouring your novel could only be described as surreal. For years you'd been in the background, swinging back the wine at other people's celebrations, watching in bitterness, but every writer felt like that, it's natural. You'd just smile and congratulate the writer and then go back to mulling over your glass. Long gone where those days.

Falling down into the couch, you slipped the pins out from your hair and let the flocks fall around you.  You were settled between the cushion, reading over the dedications when you noticed the small stack of envelopes beside a mug of stale coffee. Then it clicked, the letters! Giselle, your editor, had dropped them off at your apartment the other day, but amidst your bumbling around for the party, they'd slipped from your mind.

The stack was wrapped up in red ribbon and a note hung from the side.'Your fans want to talk to you!' The stack had been slowly accumulating since the public release of your book and for some reason you'd yet to become numb at the thought of people sending you letters, praising your book or some criticising. The people writing could well be the same people that shoved you in the train, or possibly the ones who'd lend you money for parking. It was an odd feeling but you loved it, and so, you tore the first one open.

Dear M,

To be honest, when I first saw your book online I thought it was going to be another Gone Girl, but, I'm pleasantly surprised! Monroe Estate gives me Stepford Wives vibes and I love it, not that I'd want to become a Stepford wife but I loved it! Can't wait till your next book.

From Angie

Smiling, you slipped the letter into its torn envelope and placed it at your side. You wasted no time in opening the next envelope.

Dear M,

CAN I SAY SHIT?! and I don't mean the bad shit, I mean the good type! I don't even know if you'll get this letter or if I'm even gonna write the right address on it, but that was one of the best thriller's I've read. Keep up the good and is there a sequel in the works.

From Jay.

Admittedly, this one had cooked up a small laugh from you. You'd write back to this one tomorrow. You picked up the next letter.

Dear M,

I'm not a fan mail type of guy, I actually cringe at the stuff and prefer to admire my idols from afar, but I've just finished Flowers of the Mist, literally, and I took out a pen and paper. FUCK ME WHEN I SAY YOU GOT ME! I was so sure it was the Guildford sister, they seemed to fit the bill but best believe I nearly screamed when you revealed it was Sandra P. I really should've known, anyone who gardens that much could truly be sane.

As much as I loved it, I have to say you totally forgot something. I know it's not a big deal but I'm anal about stuff like that. Ok so, what happened with Joel? You practically had whole chapter dedicated to him but, he just went away. Oh and, I think you wrote the wrong location for Mainstay bridge, Apple Tree Yard is located on the east of the river not the west.

Still, the book was amazing.

Meaningless question, but, do you listen to The Mace? It's a true crime podcast, please listen to it! It's on Spotify.

Yours sincerely, Happiness Delight.

You held the letter in your hand, mulling over each word. You couldn't help but snort, this Happiness Delight person was a real piece of work. However, as much a it pained you to agree, you did happen to forget about Joel, but Joel was a minor character, some to throw the scent off, so did it really matter?

You placed the letter at your side and reached to the notepad and found a pen somewhere in the crack off your sofa. You used the back of your book and put pen to paper. There was something about Happiness's Delight's letter that demanded you to respond, even though you weren't allowed to respond yet. Giselle had this rule that any author must not respond to fan-mail during the press run. The rule was put in stone after a scandalous fiasco with Young Adult Author, Katrina Howell. However, with the alcohol in your blood the rules were null and void, surely you wouldn't become the next Katrina Howell.

Dear Happiness Delight,

I'm not really supposed to be responding to you yet, but I've just read your letter and I had to respond. Call it a urge or something, but I had to. First of all, I'd like to say thank you for reading and buying Flowers of The Mist, it's my pride and joy and the thought of someone buying it makes me happy. I'm also delighted by the fact that the twist blew you away so much so that you just had to write to me. It took a lot of time coming up with it, and I've spent too many mornings with my cat deliberating if it should happen, so hearing it surprised you made me smile.

Onto the good bit.

First off all, don't kick yourself for being an anal person, it's what the writing world loves. Here's the thing about Joel, he was really just a scapegoat character and I didn't want to develop him into anything. However, if I did have to give Joel some kind of resolution, I feel as though he'd have made up with his Aunts for framing him. After all, they did raise him. In regards to Joe's Diner, I've only ever been there once so forgive me for my mistakes. You certainly have a keen eye.

Sorry, I don't really listen to podcasts, but I might check it out some time soon. I'm a true crime buff myself.

From M, the writer of thrillers.

You folded the paper and placed it on the coffee table, you'd mail it before heading into the vet. You took one final look at the rest of the unopened letters and placed them back onto the table, you'd read them tomorrow, as of now, your eyes were straining to stay open.

You awaken by a scratch to your feet. You cracked one eye open and looked down at the culprit. His beady eyes stared back you with vigour.

"Monsieur...what are you doing?" Your voice was croaked and dry. Monsieur, your cat, was busy as your feet tapping the painted toes with his paws. "You surprised to see me down here? God how did I even fall asleep here."

You threw the blanket off your body,but then realised you hadn't fell asleep with a blanket. The identity of the blanket culprit was solved the moment you had the crash of metal in your kitchen. Molls.

"Don't mess up my kitchen, I just cleaned," you shouted. "What are you making?"

"Eggs and sausage, it's the only thing you've got," she said. "Do you go shopping, like ever?"

"I shop for two, me and Monsieur," You said, scooping him it your hold. He struggled ever so slightly in your grasp, but that was typical of Monsieur, he was a man that didn't like to be handled. You scratched behind his ear, earning you a pleasant purr. Before you could do anymore, he leapt from your lap and dived towards his toy.

Minutes went by and before you knew it, Molls walked into the living carrying two plates. Monsieur, the greedy pig was already at her legs having been drawn by the scent of food. "Shoo Monsieur, I've already fed you." she said, nudging him to the side ever so slightly. "He's getting overweight."

She handed you the plate and sat by your side. "He loves food too much."

You prodded the scrambled eggs with your fork, you preferred a sunny side up. "He's not overweight, but I am taking him to the vet. He just needs to move a bit more."

"A bit?" She said before biting a sausage. "What with the letters?"

"Which letters?" You asked.

She pointed to the stack on the coffee table. "Oh, yeah, those are the fan letters Giselle gave me. I only read through like what? Three, but I'm gonna read the rest."

She picked your notepad up. "You're writing back already? Giselle's gonna kill you...Dear Happiness De-"

You snatched the notepad from her fingers, "It's not for you, fan only. Don't tell Giselle, she's gonna lecture me on Katrina."

"I won't but speaking of the devil, did you see Kat giving you evils at the party?" she said, smirking into her glass of water. "She wishes your book would've sunk."

"Hey, leave the poor woman alone, she made one mistake-"

"She sent a fan nudes." she said. "Was that really a mistake?"

"Writers have needs too," you said before taking a bite off your half-burnt sausage.

Sometime after the second cup of tea, Molls boyfriend better yet, boy toy, arrives to come pick her up. You wave bye to her and promise to meet up for lunch on Wednesday. With her gone, you decide to head up stairs and scrub off the remnants off makeup which hadn't smeared onto the cushions. Refreshed from your shower, you dressed and scooped Monsieur into his cage. You placed the sloppy letter you'd written into your bag.

During your drives you listened to whatever was on the radio, but today you'd decided to connect your phone into the speakers and play episode one of The Mace; The podcast Happiness Delight recommend. Monsieur growled in his cage, obviously not used to the voices of two men speaking about crime, he preferred the top 40. Each episode was twenty minutes and you found yourself going through them quick. In the waiting room with Monsieur you'd reached the fifth episode. Park and Jun were the hosts of the show and their wit had you hooked.

On the drive back, you stopped by the post office and sent the letter with a note telling Happiness Delight to reply to your PO box instead. The last thing you needed was Giselle forcing the Katrina story down your throat.

A week passed before you got the first reply back. You'd almost forgotten about Happiness Delight until your postal company messaged you about a letter. After an interview with Times Morning, you headed down to the postal office and retrived the letter.

Once in the comfort of your living you tore the letter open.

Dear M,

First of all, holy shit! I didn't think you'd reply and thank you for taking the risk, it was worth it. I'm surprised you wanted to write back so quick, I guess I do have some charm, right? The twist was amazing and I think i'm gonna rave about it for the rest of my life...well that is until you release your next novel. (Since I'm your favourite fan, can you drop some hints on the next book?). A cat? Dogs are superior.

Thanks for clearing up the Joel situation and I totally get what you meant. It's weird to think he would've made up with them but human psyche is a weird one (if you listen to The Mace then you'll know what I mean). Haha, the keen eye is the result of eating every burger off the menu, college was hard. Since you're becoming one of my favourite authors, i'm gonna give you a top tip. Next time you go to Apple Tree Yard, ask for a Mango-slaw burger (I'm assuming you're not a vegetarian). It'll be the best thing you ever ate.

Have you listened to The Mace yet? Nonetheless, it's always great to meet another true crime buff.

Yours Sincerely, Happiness Delight.

By the time you'd read it over again, the black fluff that was Monsieur had pounced on your lap and began pawing at the letter. "Monsieur honey, no!"

He meowed backS and leapt at the letter you were now holding up high. "Honey, this is an important letter, you can't rip it apart."

When Monsieur had finally resigned his reign of terror on Happiness Delight's letter, you took your notepad and pen from the coffee table.

Dear Happiness Delight,

Gosh you make me feel like I'm a celebrity, I'm just a measly little writer. Hmm, not to sure on the charm part but I'll let you have it for now. Just make sure not to accidently send your letters to the publishing House! If I could tell you when my next book will come out, I'd be a psychic. Favourite fan? that's a bold statement but I'll go along with it again. Well, my dear favourite fan, I have about fifty different ideas about the next book, but I'm thinking about a faternity gone wrong or Angel of death. How does it sound?

I totally agree, the human psyche is wild and unpredictable, I guess that why I write thrillers. Now that i think about it, it might be why I cheered the villians on in cartoons. I hope I'm not the only one who did that. Burgers aren't good for the health but I will check out the Mango-slaw.

I've actually listened to the podcast, I went through five in one day and i'm on the twelfth episode. I would have gotten further but, my week's been jam packed.

From M, the writer of thrillers.

"We're having lunch here?" Molls under her breath as she followed you into Apple Tree Yard. "I fucking hate you. You literally said we're having lunch at Rain's."

You grinned back at her. "Change of plans, it's a bit nostalgic coming back here."

"Remember when Tom took me here," she said. "I'm shivering just thinking about him."

You both found a cozy little booth my window, it overlooked the almost barren car park and you could see the bridge from here. "He killed me that day, who orders turkey dinosaurs on a romantic date?"

"Him," she said. "Why did you even bring us here? You haven't mentioned this place for a good twenty years and now you decide to?"

You hold one finger up, "Actually, it's my book. However, I was persuaded to come here by a certain fan."

"That Happiness something? And you're still writing back. "

You nodded."Delight. Happiness Delight. He's actually quite interesting and he's got a good taste in podcasts."

"Podcasts! Since when do you listen to podcasts? I've literally been trying to get you to listen to Agony Jen for like a good five years!" she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Snake."

"I listened to one episode and it was a mess. Most the problems could be solved by simply ignoring said person or finding a hobby. I don't know how you can suffocate it."

"Honey, I write borderline erotic romantic novels; I live for that shit." she said, cracking a mischievous grin. "How this podcast of yours like?"

"Good, it's dark, true crime but the hosts are funny. It balances out," you said, opening the menu. Your eyes looked around burgers section, searching for the highly commended Mango-slaw. "Molls, do you see a mango-slaw burger on here."

She narrowed her eyes and took one menu. "I don't think there's ever been a mango-slaw on this menu. And what the hell's a mango-slaw?"

You shrugged. "Some burger Happiness recommend-"

She shuts her menu. "We came here for a fucking burger that might not even be real?! I'm telling Giselle before it gets out of hand."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh come on, you're overreacting."

"We'll see if I'm overreacting when you end up on the news," she said. "Lets just call the waitress before I die of hunger."

"Nothing bad's gonna happen," you lifted your hand and caught the eye of a waitress. The waiter, who was vigorously chewing bubble gum, walked to your booth notepad in hand. Molls ordered her meal, spicy chicken wings and a side of chips and then the waitress turned to you.

"Do you have mango-slaw?"

She furrowed her eyebrow, "Mango-slaw? Miss, we don't serve that here."

Your face instantly became heated, had Happiness Delight tricked you? That scheming ass you thought. Molls looked as though she was on the brink of laughing. "Oh really...ok, um, I'll just have a cheese burger with chips. And one Seven Up."

She nodded and wrote your order down, all the while looking at you with caution. She probably thought you were crazy. "I'll give these to the chef."

"Thank you," your voice was meek.

Twenty minutes later, the waitress came back bearing the burgers and chips. You went through the meal silently cursing Happiness.

When you stopped at the postal office, you decided to make an amend to your letter. You wrote under the last paragraph.

Were you tricking me with the Mango Slaw? I was at Apple Tree Yard and I asked for one but the waitress looked at me crazy. If so, you're a good trickster Mr Happiness Delight.

Once happy with it, you folded the paper back up and sealed it into the envelope for posting.

Dear M,

You're a celebrity to me and I'll take it, but don't be amazed when my charm grows on you. And I just want t say my highest achievement so far is you naming me your favourite fan, I'll write it on my tombstone when I die...hopefully you would've released twenty more books in that space of time. Personally I love the Angel of Death idea, it's always fascinated me. Ever heard of Harold Shipman.

You're not alone in the cheering villains on front. While everyone else was cheering Hercules on, I was on Hades' side.

In regards to the Mango-slaw event, I probably should've been more clear but don't ask the new waiters, you're gonna have to go the chef. Specifically one called Kyungsoo...now, he might try to throw a pan at you but he will make it.

Since you've listened to the podcast, whose is your favourite host?

Yours Sincerely, Happiness Delight.

Dear Happiness Delight,

I think your charms already growing on me! Don't forget to tell me what plot you'll be on, I'll come visit you and take a picture of it. I hope i'll be able to get through twenty books, it took me too long to write Flowers of the Mist! And yes I've heard of Harold Shipman, what true crime buff hasn't?

Oh see there we've got a problem, I was on Hercules side and that's only because Hades scared me. I was an easily scared child.

I hope you're not playing a trick on me, but if I ever do get time I'll go again, hopefully when that waitress isn't working.

I don't know if this is overstepping boundaries but, I have book signing coming up. Please come, if you can. Since you know Apple Tree Yard then I'm guessing you live around here, so if you can make it, please do. It's at Vick’s Bookstore from 3pm to 5pm. We'll be having lunch after.

For some reason, I think Park is my favourite. He's very funny, not that Jun isn't! Maybe it's the deep voice...I don't know.

From M, writer of thrillers.

The postal office receptionist watched you in growing annoyance as you stood at the desk reading the words. Was it too early to casually invite him to your book signing and dinner after? Furthermore, what if it all went wrong and you were possibly inviting a stalker into your life? Every writer had heard the horror stories of writers having stalkers, some made the stop writing or worse. Maybe it was pure foolishness and naivety, but you trusted Happiness Delight.

"Uh, Ma'am...will you be sending the letter?" The receptionist voice caused you break from your stupor.

"Sorry," you said, shoving the paper back into envelope and passing it the receptionist.

As you left the office, your phone rang, it was Giselle on the line. She talked about finalising the details, now would've been the best time to tell her Happiness but you shut your mouth in better judgement. When he came to the dinner, that's he if came, you'd tell her he was just a friend.

"God, you're shaking like a leaf" Giselle said. She handed you a glass of white wine but you refused. Your stomach couldn't handle alcohol this early.

"I'm just nervous," you said. "It's my first book signing so...Yeah"

"You'll be fine, you just gotta smile but you might be holding quite a few babies," she said, slapping a hand on your shoulder. It's meant to be a gesture of comfort, but pain surges through your muscles. She had a hard hit for a fifty-something woman.

"I don't mind babies," you said. "I just don't want to disappoint anyone and there's just so many people out there."

You peeked out of the glass windows, there was a steady line of people stood outside the doors, some carry books and some purchasing the book from the store. There were all types of people, but you looked for one person. Happiness. Would you know who was happiness the moment you saw him? You'd built a picture of him in your mind but you didn't even know his name for crying out loud. This was stupid.

You wouldn't have been this nervous if he'd replied. Usually, it took him a week to reply and that's understanable, mail takes time. But it was now two weeks since you'd sent the letter. You'd gone to the PO box near enough daily, but nothing was there. Molls had said it might have been lost, but it seemed so impossible.

"Sweetie, they're gonna open the doors," Giselle said. "Do you want some water?"

You nodded as she led you to the front of the store.

"Hey, you! Can you get her some water. Bottled." Giselle said to some young employee.

You took your seat at the table they'd decorated with a stack of your book and a picture of yourself. It wasn't the best of pictures. You thanked the employee and immediately took a gulp of water. You placed the bottle down as you watched the line of people stream in. You clicked the pen two times, just to check.

"Hey, I just want to say I love your book," A girl handed you her copy.

"Thank you so much, it took some time to write. What's your name?" You asked, opening the book on the first blank page.

"Farrah, it's my name," she said, her pock marked face was wide with a smile.

You wrote a small message addressed to her and signed your own signature. You handed the book to her, "Thank you so much for coming."

The next person came, a man. Your heart raced for a moment, what if it was Happiness Delight? You took the book from him and signed it as Andy. He didn't seem like Happiness Delight. If Happiness Delight did turn up he'd probably tell you who he was.

As the fans continuted to flood in drones, your eyes continuously flew over to the clock on the wall. It was nearly time for a break and still Happiness hadn't come. It pained you to admit it but you were losing hope. Maybe it was like Molls said, the mail had gotten lost.

You took your break in the store's staff room. It was only a small break and you spent most of it on your phone, anything to put your mind off him. But the longer you sat there, you'd began to grow angry at yourself. This was your first signing, people had travelled for good knows how far just to get your signature and a small chat. As you walked back into the store front you told yourself not to think about him, just smile and appreciate it, not every one got to do a book signing.

The second half moved quick and you joked more with your fans. And you'd taken the odd picture with a baby and someone's child. You'd been stretching your hands when Giselle tapped your shoulder, she leant down to your ear.

"This is the last bunch, we're going after these," She said.

You nodded and turned back to the next person. "Hello, how are you?" You asked, smiling up at the man.

"Good, I think" He said, you couldn't help but notice he was nervous. He was holding the book with a near white grip. "You?"

"Good too," you answered. "Shoud I sign your book?"

"Yes, of course," he handed you the book and you flipped to the blank page.

"Who should I address it to?" You asked, the tip of your pen touching the page.

"To H-no...sorry, just Chanyeol," he said. "Just Chanyeol."

"Beautiful name," you said, writing his name before the small note and your own signature. You closed the book, "Here you go."

"Thank you so much, and I love your book," he said.

"Thank you too."

He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. You watched him smile then leave the line, his lanky body weaving in between bodies and before he got the door, he cast you a fleeting glance before walking out into the rain. You looked up to the next person.

"Hi, how are you?" you said to them.

When the last person had walked out the door, you released a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. It was over, the fans had come and he hadn't.

"You good?" Giselle asked.

"Just peachy," you said. "Which resturant we were going to again? Oh, and my plus one won't make it."

The Mace, episode 37 played in your car as you drove to Apple Tree Yard. As you took the next exit your phone pinged, a message. You peered down at the screen to see who it was from, your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was from. Angelo, he'd interviewed you for the Daily Mint. You'd run into him at grocery, you'd been looking for a certain brand of cat food since Monsieur was picky. In the brief conversation you'd had while trying to find the food, you'd ended you exchanging numbers. You'd text him back when you were in the restaurant.

You pulled your keys from the ignition and made your way inside. You'd come at a busy time, the high-school kids from the neighbouring school had invaded near enough all the booths and you couldn't bring yourself to walk down the aisle. Teenagers had a knack of scaring you. So, you settled down at the bar, from here, you could see the cooks flipping burger meat, one flame grilling steak and another chopping onions into fine pieces.

"what you having doll?" the woman behind the bar asked.

"Can I get the cheese burger please, with a side of chips and mango juice." you said.

She scribbled your order down, "sure, would that be all?"

"Yeah- actually, sorry but does a chef called Kyungsoo work here?" you asked, the question had been a split second decision. You can just wanted to out the whole Happiness Delight debacle to rest. Molls had been so convinced that Happiness was simply a fantasist.

The older woman furrowed her brows and for a second you thought Molls was right along, but then she nodded. "Yeah, he works here. You need to talk to him or something... Wait, you're not a cop right?"

You almost laughed in relief. "No I'm just a normal citizen. I just want to ask him about something."

"alright, I'll bring him over."

Your fingers tapped the wooden counter as you waited forher to bring him. Minutes later, the woman came back but with a man in tow. He was wearing his chef gowns and curious look on his face.

"Hi, I'm kyungsoo. You are?" he asked.

You told him your name. "I'm sorry for the bother I wanted to ask you something."

"No problem, I wasn't doing much," he said.

"Well, that's good. This is gonna sound stupid but someone told me to come here before and they said something about this Mango-slaw burger."

"Mango-slaw?" He stopped for a second then sighed hard. "Chanyeol that bastard...he sent you here didn't he?"

The name rung familiar but you couldn't place it. Was this Chanyeol character Happiness Delight? "I'm sorry, but who's Chanyeol?"

Kyungsoo face contorted into one of confusion. "Park Chanyeol, well Chanyeol Park but that doesn't matter. He's the only idiot that orders this burger." He paused to look at your equally confused face. "Was it not him? He's like too fucking tall, big ears, and an idiot."

You tried hard to place a name to the description but you just couldn't. "I don't really know."

"Then who else- Wait, lemme show you a picture," he dug inside the pocket of his uniform, then scrolled through his phone, "Here's a picture of him."

You squinted your eyes at the picture. Where did you know him from? He looked so familiar but the memory was so blurry. The picture of Chanyeol was a guy wearing a large hoodie, hair tousled. He looked to be in some kind of recording studio, but you really didn't know, he just had a mic in front of him. If the microphone in front of him was anything to go by.

Wait a second, that guy. guy who'd come for a book sign, the one who was acting weird. It had to be him but his hair had changed, it was now a dark auburn colour. You thanked the forces that you'd' been sat on the chair, if not, you're certain your knee's would've collapsed. That man was Happiness Delight. He'd came.

"Do you know where he is? I really need to talk to him," you said.

"Uh I don't know where exactly he'd be right now, but I can give you his number," He said.

"That'll be amazing."

He took a piece a paper from behind the counter and scribbled Chanyeol's number down. "There you go. Oh and do you want the burger?"

You shook your head and took the scrap piece of paper. "I don't think I can eat."

You had the paper in your pocket for a good three days, looking over the numbers over and over. Two months had passed between the last letter you received, and you hadn't even opened it.

You pressed the numbers into your phone, pausing a moment you pressed call. The phone rang three times.

"Hello, who's this?" The voice asked.

Why did he sound so familiar? How was it so that you'd recognised his voice than you did his face.

"Uh...hello? Is anybody there. I can hear you breathing?"

Park, it was Park's voice. You felt as though the air in your body had been forced out. Of course, Park Chanyeol. Happiness Delight was the voice of the man you'd been listening to for the last few months.

"Happiness Delight?" Your vocie was feeble and you'd almost doubted he'd heard it.

"M?"  

#chanyeol scenario #exo scenario #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol oneshot #chanyeol fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fluff #kpop fluff #exo angst #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol reaction #kpop imagine #exo imagine #chanyeol #exo #pcy #exowritersnet

[kaepop-trash]

Trust

Rated: Somewhere between fluff and angst, decide for yourselves.

Pairing: YutaxReader

Summary: Bodyguard Yuta and fulfilling duties.

“The security detail is unnecessary.” She said after patiently reading the file in her hand. And waiting for the appropriate opportunity.

“It’s just precaution. I can’t send you to an international conference without someone to protect you. Think about how preposterous that is.” He used his politician voice.

“Why are you sending me to an international conference at all? Just send some staff, that’s what they’ll think I am anyway right?” She tried to keep her voice as respectful as possible.

“It made the most sense.” His voice sounded like he didn’t want to discuss this anymore. She didn’t want to say that she suspected he was just keeping an eye on her.

By the time she got back to the room, her bags had already been packed and an incredibly luxurious outfit was displayed on the bed. She called for the maid in attendance, she didn’t need to ask to know what she wanted at this hour and soon her tea was brought to her. She sat by the marble fireplace and stared into the fire for too long till the maid interrupted. She said something in her words that she had come to understand as ‘someone is here’ and nodded to let them come in.

“Miss, I’ll be your chauffeur for this trip.” His voice was clipped and void of emotion but something else caught her eye.

“You speak English?” She turned to him a little surprised.

“And fourteen other languages Miss, I will also be your translator if you so wish.” She got up with a small smile playing at her lips.

“I know twenty languages, soldier. Are you a soldier?” She walked up to him.

“In official capacity I’m your security detail Miss.” His gaze never shifted away from whatever it was fixated on straight ahead.

“And in unofficial capacity?” She stood right in front of him.

“I’m afraid I cannot answer that.” His voice didn’t falter.

“Okay security detail, what do I call you by? What is your name?” There was an harshness on her voice that was projection in it’s most basic forms.

“Eggshell 549-” She cut him off.

“No your real name, I don’t care about your silly nicknames. I need to know the name of the man who holds my life is in hands. As I’m told.” She smiled.

“Nakamoto Miss, Nakamoto Yuta.” He said obediently.

“Nice to meet you Yuta, I hope we can have a pleasant weekend.” She dismissed him after that to get ready.

The first few hours after arrival were spent meeting dignitaries, smiling at cameras and everything in between. She looked back at herself standing over her clothes wondering why she needed to be dressed up for a flight. He stood behind her the whole time, it was unnerving, like someone breathing down your neck literally all the time. Like she didn’t already have the figurative version of that. But she was compliant and she was in public.

“Could you get the Prince and I a drink?” She turned to Yuta after reaching the point of needing a little space, quite literally. He seemed hesitant but he was instructed to follow orders.

“You’ll get used to it, eventually.” The prince’s statement made her turn to him looking lost, “Oh, the people always around you, the bodyguards. I can tell you’re new to this. Just don’t treat them like people, they’re glorified bulletproof vests. Those, though cheap, don’t look good in pictures.” His smug grin was the worst part of his statement. She smiled and excused herself.

After a few minutes of standing out in the balcony there was a knock behind her that made her turn and her features soften on sight.

“You found me, sorry if you had to look around for too long.” She said, turning back to stare at the large expanse of green nothingness.

“I was right by you Miss, I thought you needed space, but I also got one of the other guards to get you the drink.” He walked up and handed her a glass of Champagne. She sighed when she registered his words.

“You heard what he said.” It wasn’t a question, Yuta didn’t answer.

“Everyone here are terrible people who do horrible things. What they say doesn’t matter, all these people here are a hair away from dictatorships and Oligarchies. They aren’t exactly in line for being good people.” She turned to him with kind eyes and a convincing tone.

“I don’t take offense Miss, that is not my job.” His answer was so simple that a laugh bubbled up her throat as the bubbles of the Champagne slipped in, “Also it may not be my place, but not everyone here is horrible.” She turned to him before she could stop herself.

“Let’s go now, I need a cleanse before the Ball tonight if I’m to survive three more days of this circus.” She sighed and turned to make her way out, “Can you get me out of here without anymore small talk?” Her eyes held the desperate plea her trained voice didn’t allow.

“I am here to serve you Miss.” He said and spoke into some device on his wrist.

On the second day of the conference, she decided to wake up early and personally go thank her team, when she went to the floor her staff was assigned to, she saw a white board with her name on it from afar, upon approaching the people, they rubbed it off urgently before she could see.

“Can I help you Miss?” One of the guards asked dutifully, but she noticed the bead of sweat slide down his temple in a well air-conditioned room. She turned at the sound of the door opening to see Yuta walk in, his jaw clenching.

“I,” She hesitated, looking around at the seemingly nervous people in the room. “I came to thank you all for your incredible help.” She forced a smile, “I have asked that you all be given a generous breakfast spread. You can go down the hall for that.” They all thanked her and bowed away.

“What was happening here?” She asked Yuta once everyone else had left.

“Ma’am-” His voice was a little less robotic.

“Tell me.” She said, not turning to look at him, he still hesitated.

“That’s an Order Mr. Nakamoto.” Her voice was quiet but authority in it didn’t need to be addressed.

“They have a wager.” He closed his eyes and sighed.

“On what?” Her voice was still plain, lacking any feel.

“On what you are to the, to the President.” She didn’t turn but he noticed her back tense for a moment.

“Who am I to the President?” Her voice was cautious.

“They’re betting on what position you have to get,” He paused, feeling like he said too much.

“To get to represent him at this conference.” She completed his thought, “What are the wagers?” She asked

“Ma’am?” He said confused.

“What do they think I am? What are the different wagers they are betting on?”

“Extortion, his son’s lover, daughter, mistress, spy.” He bit the inside of his cheek

Did you also bet?” She didn’t sound angry, “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I’m just curious. I want to know what you bet on.” She still didn’t face him.

“I did not partake in this Miss.”

“I see.” He heard her take a deep sigh then turn with a smile.

“What is a human being without curiosity right?” She brushed down her dress, not waiting for an actual reply.

“You will join me for breakfast at the Ballroom? Or you can eat down the hall with your colleagues. Whatever you like.”

“I go where you go Miss.” He said with finality.

Yuta woke up to his phone ringing loudly, his current roommate groaned at the disturbance but turned over and went back into deep sleep once he answered.

“Is something wrong Miss?” Yuta was already putting on clothes.

“You will do anything I ask you to right?” She said after a moment’s hesitation. Yuta sat back down, confused but clear on protocol.

“If it is in my Jurisdiction Miss.” He said carefully.

“Can you get me a packet of barbecue chips and a bottle of vodka?”

In less than half an hour, the doorbell rang and she rushed to it.

“You’re like the pizza guy. I almost didn’t recognise you without a suit” She giggled, turning around to let him come in.

“Ma’am are you okay?” He asked, placing the bag in his hand on a table.

“I finished everything in the minibar. Oops?” She giggled again. She turned around like she had to recall something and turned back with realisation, walking towards the plastic bag Yuta had put down.

“Miss do you think it’s alright to be drinking more?” She laughed at his words.

“Of course it’s not alright. Nothing about my life is alright. So I will drink cheap vodka bought at a convenience store if I need to Mr. Nakamoto.” He seemed to hold back something he wanted to say after that.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” She sighed, picking up the Bottle.

“Want a sip?” She pushed the bottle under his nose.

“I don’t drink on duty Miss.” He said.

“You aren’t on duty right now, this place is more secure than Hell, nothing is going to happen, so drink.” She pushed it up, after a bit more hesitating he took a tiny sip, his face contorting immediately after. She laughed again.

“Wuss.” She said and took a large gulp from the bottle.

“What did you bet on?” She spoke up after a long, oddly comfortable silence.

“I didn’t wager on your identity Miss

“Can I trust you Nakamoto Yuta?”

“It is my duty serve you Miss.” He recited, she just clicked her tongue.

“No Robocop, Can I trust you? Not with my life, not with my safety. Can I trust you?” For the first time he turned to look at her, really look.

“Yes.” He said simply.

“I’m his illegitimate child. Who he feels bad for because her Mother died, leaving her in his care.” She whispered and laughed, “I’m not a spy, I’m not manipulating his son, nothing half as interesting. I’m just his Bastard.” She sighed like it felt good to get off her chest.

“His son is off overseeing immigrant security and his daughter, his real daughter, is too busy going to clubs and being a liability, so here I am. I’m the only other person sworn by blood, if not duty, to be on his side.” For the first time he heard anger in her voice.

“I-I know.” He hesitated again. She turned to him looking confused, but his features softened at the tears on the brim of her eyes.

“When I was first recruited, my first mission was to bring you to your dad. I was one of the people he send to bring you to him.” This time she was the one who really looked at him, she squinted and came to close without realising. Suddenly her eyes relaxed and she pushed back with joy.

“I remember you!” His heart was suddenly thumping.

“You were the one who came to me before the funeral right? You gave me my mother’s pearls, said my mother left them with my father for me.” His heartbeat was suddenly far worse.

“The commanding officer handed me this because I was the new one.” He said with a smile she didn’t see.

“You told me the pain eventually fades into a memory. That it won’t hurt this much anymore.” He bit his lip at her recollection.

“How are you so red you only had a small sip.” She touched his cheek and it somehow got much worse.

“I think you’re catching something Yuta.” She put her hand on his forehead and he pushed back coughing.

“I’m fine Miss. I’ll go rest after you go to bed.” His best professional voice was back. She let out a small chuckle.

“I get the message. I’ll stop drinking now. Sorry today was just one long day.” She sighed again.

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me,” He turned to her, then immediately turned away, “Miss.” He added. She nodded and turned to walk as he followed behind her.

Once she sat down at the edge of the bed he handed her a glass of water and a painkiller.

“You’ll thank me tomorrow.” He said and she smiled and accepted.

“Good Night Miss.” He said as she slid into the bed.

“Good Night Yuta.” She sighed sleepily, he was yet again betrayed by his eagerly beating heart who enjoyed that sentence a lot for some odd reason.

When she woke up the next morning, she turned to the bed stand to find a large bottle of water and a plain white card on the table. She flipped open the card and smiled at the two simple words on the crisp white background.

‘Happy Birthday.’

#yuta #nct #nakamoto yuta #smrookies #request #bodyguard #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #bodyguard!au #au #nct au #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #taeyong #johnny #taeil #jaehyun #doyoung #win win #mark #jisung #haechan #ten #jeno #kun #jaemin #hansol #renjun

[pongpalace]

The Shark Epidemic

Day One of Charmer Week: Meet-Cute (AU~kinda)

Read on ao3 

It’s a Friday night when Caitlin finally caved to Spencer’s peer pressure and downloaded Tinder onto her phone. Well, less caved into the pressure and more lost the wrestling match and was sat on while Spencer downloaded Tinder onto her phone.

“This is so stupid,” Caitlin said, voice slightly muffled by one of the thousand overstuffed throw pillows that Spencer insisted she needed to sleep with. Somehow they’d started migrating over to Caitlin’s side of their two-bed dorm room.

“You’re stupid,” Spencer replied absently, still tapping on Caitlin’s phone. “I’m just helping you meet people.”

“If I wanted to meet people, I’d be fighting for elbow space at whatever party March and April were talking about,” Caitlin huffed.

All through practice, the volleyball captains had been going on and on about what they were going to wear to the “Haus” that night. It was apparently the place to go for a good time on the weekends, especially before any athletic seasons started. Invitations had been extended to the freshmen through the team group chat after practice, but Caitlin ducked out as soon as it was made this clear that this wasn’t part of the mandatory team bonding that had been taking place throughout the month she’d been at Samwell. She was looking forward to a night in with the new Oceans documentary on Netflix and maybe some popcorn if she decided to brave the walk up to the common room with the microwave. Spencer, her roommate and fellow freshmen setter, had agreed to the night in, but had other plans when the shitty dorm internet made Netflix buffer for too long.

“Jeez, one night off and you get boring,” Spencer tutted, ignoring Caitlin’s groan when she got elbowed as Spencer rolled off Caitlin to lay on her stomach so they could both see the phone screen. “Here, I did all the hard work.”

Caitlin took her phone back and flipped through profile. Her name and age was displayed underneath the same picture she had as her Facebook profile.

“Does Facebook know that I’m on Tinder now?” she asked, flipping through the other three pictures Spencer had chosen to display. Caitlin was lowkey surprised to see that her favourite picture, the one where she stood proudly beside the surfboard her and her mom had spent all summer working on together, made the cut.

Somehow Caitlin both saw and felt Spencer’s eyeroll. “Okay, now I’m surprised that you’ve even heard of Tinder before this. It’s connected to your Facebook, but Facebook won’t post anything.”

“No need to be an asshole.” Caitlin kept scrolling and saw a brief description under her name made almost entirely of emojis. She wasn't sure what the girl flipping her hair emoji meant in this context.

“Oh FYI, I put your preferences as men and women ‘cause I wasn’t sure, but you can totally change it.” Despite Spencer’s flippant tone, she wasn’t looking at Caitlin and was biting at her bottom lip; a tell that Caitlin had come to recognize as nervousness under Spencer’s devil-may-care attitude. Caitlin was sure she’d get sat on again if she brought attention to it though so she just shrugged.

“That’s fine,” she said. 

Sexuality had been an open topic in her house growing up so she’d been able to come to terms with her attraction to both genders and sometimes forgot that not everyone was as lucky. It’d been awhile since she needed to come out to anyone and now, retrospectively, forgotten she hadn’t gotten around to doing that with the volleyball team yet.

“Me too.” Spencer still wasn’t looking at Caitlin and actually looked like she was going chew right through her lip, so despite Caitlin wanting to thank her for trusting her with the moment like her sister turned LGBT counsellor would have, Caitlin just knocked their shoulders together before adding three emoji hearts to her description; pink, purple, and blue. She saved it.

“So how do I use this now?” she asked.

Spencer, no longer chewing on her lip, took the phone back and flipped to a different screen. “Okay. People around close to us are gonna pop up and you swipe right if you like ‘em-” she demonstrated the right swipe on the first picture that loaded: a bright-eyed Asian guy smiling widely in a San Jose Sharks sweatshirt. “-or left if you don’t.” She swiped left on the next picture: a blond guy in wire frame glasses.

“Oh damn, he was cute.” Spencer frowned.

“Aw do they know if I swipe left on them?”

“Nah. You match with someone when you’ve both swiped right on each other.”

“So everyone I’m uh, swiping on has already swiped right on me?”

“No, they’re just everyone in your range. I set that to like a 10 mile radius so you’re most likely just swiping on people from the university by the way.” Spencer tossed Caitlin’s phone back and got up to get hers off the dock where it’d been charging.

“Wait.” Caitlin caught the phone, brow furrowed as she takes in the new picture on the screen: a girl with an insane undercut. She swiped right and a message appeared on the screen informing her that it’s a match and giving her tips on how to start a conversation that she would not be taking. “Then how do I know if they swiped right on me if they haven’t seen my profile yet?”

“You get a notification thing later, kinda. I dunno Farmer, just start swiping, jesus.” Spencer’s attention was already back on her phone, which was also opened to Tinder and the rest of their Friday night passed in a matter of left and right swipes, with the Oceans documentary finally loaded and playing in the background.

Tinder was actually much more enjoyable than Caitlin had originally anticipated; there was something soothing about the repeated swiping. Through trial and error, a couple of accidental right swipes on guys pictured with douchey sunglasses, she figured out that by touching on people’s pictures she could get to their profile pages and read their descriptions.

Surprisingly, some were really fucking funny.  

“Holy shit, Spence, listen to this-” Caitlin pushed Spencer off her stomach so she could sit up, reaching for the spacebar on her laptop to pause Netflix. She cleared her throat to read out the description as dramatically as possible. “‘If murdered, I want a closed-casket funeral. However, towards the end of the service, please have the organist play “Pop Goes The Weasel” over and over, until everyone in attendance is staring at my coffin with mute horrified antici- anticipation.”” Caitlin was laughing so hard by the end that she was pretty sure Spencer couldn't understand her, but Spencer grabbed the phone the read the description herself. She started laughing too.

“Oh my god.” Spencer had tears of laughter streaming down her. “Please tell me you swiped right! No, let me find them and swipe right! We’re soulmates!”

Sometime around 11 they restarted the documentary after Caitlin realized they had laughed through most of it as they compared Tinder bios and pictures. She still got distracted by her phone though as messages started coming in along with notifications of new matches. The first message that Caitlin opened was a straight up, literally, dick pic. She yelled and dropped her phone on her face when she opened it.

“Jesus christ, no hello?”

“Welcome to tinder babe.” Spencer patted her shin while stealing Caitlin’s phone with her other hand. “Oh HELLO.”

Caitlin snatched her phone back to look at the other, written, messages she’d gotten. Most were generic hi’s or hello’s, and some were really cheesy pick up lines that had to have been googled. While she was working on a reply to one guy’s piss baby reaction to her not replying to him within five minutes of his first message, another message popped up. She swiped over to it to watch two more messages join the first.

Chris: [(hearteyes emoji)]

Chris: [ur gorgeous]

Chris: [u’re*]

Caitlin tapped into to his profile and saw it was the smiling Asian guy that Spencer had swiped right on for her demonstration. His description was empty so she settled for swiping through his photos, wondering if it was worth replying. Black, turquoise, and sharks of all varieties were prevalent themes in his photos, including the one where he was dressed in full goalie gear; San Jose jersey stretched across his chest and helmet covered in realistic sharks. Other than that photo, he was pictured smiling widely, showing off a mouthful of braces. Caitlin went into the conversation, amused by the guy’s obsession.

Me: [how do you feel about the shark epidemic?]

She pressed send, turned off the screen on the phone and dropped it on the bed, unsure if she expected or wanted a reply. Sure, he wore black and turquoise well, and she was pretty sure he had dimples, but that opening line left something to be desired. Maybe he’d have a sense of humour in his response though.

“Another dick pic?” Spencer asked, craning her neck back to look at Caitlin. She’d moved so she was halfway down the bed, her feet hanging off the edge and probably touching the ground. It couldn’t be comfortable, but she’d been intently swiping at her phone in that position for the last 20 minutes so what did Caitlin know?

“No.”

“Damn.”

“Get your own dick pics.”

“Ew, no thank you. I don’t want that on my phone.”

Caitlin kicked her side, and tilted the laptop screen so she could see the brightly coloured fish better.

*****

Caitlin woke up to a stupid amount of notifications on the Tinder app. Still cuddled under her blankets, she had to laugh as she went through them; the decline of coherent spelling in the messages as the timestamps got later was a hilarious example of everything she hoped university would be. The increase of sexual messages was less so. She had just finished blocking one guy who used their message thread as one might use a void to angrily shout in, when she noticed that she’d missed a reply from Chris in the mess of drunk messages. She went into the thread; jaw actually dropping as she read through it.

Chris: [If by 'epidemic' you mean the alarming rate at which sharks are disappearing from the ocean, I think the culling of sharks is a direct response to the fear mongering of the mainstream media that’s been consistent for the last forty years or so in order to keep beaches 'safer.' That sharks are dying prematurely outside of being killed by humans, is a reflection on how little is being done in terms of controlling global warming as the whole oceanic ecosystem is being disturbed. What little information is available about this in comparison to the widespread articles about sharks attacking humans reflects on the cultural mindset that sharks are 'bad', when in reality sharks are only naturally reacting to their homes be invaded. They were here first after all.]

Chris: [also, I’m so sorry if these messages woke you! It took me a while to type them out (smiley face emoji)]

Chris: [okay, have a good night! (smiley face emoji) (smiley face emoji)]

Caitlin kicked off her blankets, almost tripping when she jumped out of bed and they were still wrapped around her feet. She jumped onto Spencer’s bed, ignoring the groan of protest to dig through the pillow fort that Spencer slept in. After knocking aside the pillows and blankets, Caitlin found Spencer: messy haired and glaring through bleary eyes.  

“What.” The lack of infliction might have been threatening if not for the pillow creases across her face.

“You gotta see this.” Caitlin shoved her phone, screen bright, into Spencer’s face.

“This better be a nice fucking dick pic Farmer,” she said, rubbing her eyes and stretching to grab her glasses off her nightstand. She took the phone to read the message once she could see.

Caitlin sat back, clutching a pillow, watching Spencer’s eyebrows raise as they moved across the screen.

“Better than a dick pic?” Caitlin grinned when she finished. Chris had hit all the points in Caitlin’s own rant about sharks and the ocean. Though she hoped her biology major would focus on deep ocean tidal patterns, Caitlin had a vested interest in all sea life that came from living right next to the ocean for most of her life.

“Way better than a dick pic.” Spencer handed the phone back.

“How do I reply?” Caitlin stared at the screen, thumbs moving over but not touching the keyboard. Honestly, Chris’s reply was better than anything she had expected; she wanted to make her own reply just as good.

“Can you figure it out in your own bed?” Spencer asked, replacing the pillows around her. “Some of us are enjoying the Saturday off.” Her voice came out muffled, under the blankets already, and Caitlin took the hint and knee walked off the bed, only slightly jostling the bed on purpose. She threw her phone onto her own bed, grabbing her toiletry bag to go brush her teeth and wash her face.

She thought about what to say the whole time she brushed her teeth, staring at herself in the badly lit bathroom. She thought about what to say while patted her face dry, wondering what it was that Chris was looking for on Tinder. She thought about it on the walk down the hallway, slippers slapping loudly against her heels. She was still thinking about it when she let herself back into her room, but she still hadn’t thought of anything clever or witty to reply with as she slipped back under her covers. She stared at the blank screen.

The thing was, though she’d joined Tinder under duress of her roommate’s bony ass, Caitlin didn’t necessarily object to the idea of meeting someone, even if it was via a stupid hookup app. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what expectations she had of Tinder, but now, not even 24 full hours after having the damn app, it had somehow both fallen short and exceeded expectations and that in and of itself was annoying. Add in Chris’s well written message and fuck. Caitlin wanted to meet him to see if he’d fall short or not.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Spencer said from under the pillows.

“Shut up.” Caitlin unlocked her phone and went into the message, typing quickly and pressing send before she could think too hard about it.

Me: [any chance you wanna get coffee sometime? (smiley face emoji)]

Yep. That was out in the world now. Caitlin locked the screen; did it seem too forward? Well, if she hadn’t scared Chris off with her shark question, she probably wouldn’t scare him off with the coffee invitation. Probably. Caitlin rolled onto her stomach so she could groan into a pillow without Spencer commenting on it. She took two deep breath and told herself she would not let his response, or lack thereof, ruin her weekend. She still had conditioning tomorrow and that would be what ruined it.

Caitlin’s phone buzzed, once and then twice. She reached back blindly to grab it, rolling over when her arm wasn’t long enough. She unlocked it onto the conversation where two new messages were waiting.

Chris: [oh wow I didn’t think you’d reply--that was a reallllllllllllly long paragraph to get through (nerd smiley face emoji)]

Chris: [also, I’m sorry if the first message was too much. apparently my drunk teammates break into phones for fun (eye roll emoji) I’m glad they did though (blushy face emoji)]

Caitlin huffed a laugh and another message popped up while she was staring at the conversation.

Chris: [coffee would be s’awesome! (grin emoji) (coffee mug emoji)]

“What’d he say?”

Caitlin jumped at Spencer’s voice.

“I thought you were enjoying your Saturday off,” she said, but she chucked her phone across the gap between the beds.

“Your Tinder feels are keeping me up,” Spencer said, smiling and rolling her eyes while she read through. “You’re welcome by the way.” She tossed the phone back, screen still unlocked and Caitlin read two new messages, one of which she apparently wrote.

Me: [is now a good time?]

Chris: [yeah it's great! I haven’t tried Annie’s yet, but hear it has really good (coffee mug emoji) ..?]

“I can set up my own Tinder things,” Caitlin said, glaring. She typed out a confirmation that Annie’s worked and that she’d see Chris there in 20 minutes, before kicking off her blankets for the second time that morning.

“Get dressed, c’mon! You need to look good!”

With a very opinionated commentary from the peanut gallery, Caitlin got pulled on black leggings and an oversized denim shirt, leaving her 18 minutes to get to Annie’s.

“Good thing hipster chic is in,” Spencer said, while Caitlin tried not to stab herself in the eye while doing her mascara.

“I’m not the one who set the time.” Caitlin capped the mascara and considered her hair for a second before pulling it up into an impressively messy bun. She wrapped her scarf around her neck, shrugged on her puffy vest, stepped into her Docs, and turned to Spencer for inspection, arms spread. “Look okay?”

Spencer looked her up and down. “Good enough for a coffee date.”

“Asshole,” Caitlin shook her head, checked her pockets for her phone and cards and left.

“You’re welcome!” Spencer called after her.

She made it to Annie’s with two minutes to spare from when she said she’d meet Chris. He wasn’t there yet. It was still relatively early on a Saturday morning so she had her pick of tables to sit at while she waited. She picked one near the door, smiling at the tired looking student barista behind the counter as she sat and pulled out her phone to double check Chris’s picture to make sure she’d recognize him.

She really shouldn’t have bothered though. Chris was easily recognizable when he walked in exactly two minutes later, dressed in a Sharks hoodie under a plaid button up smiled widely when he caught sight of Caitlin. His braces flashed. Caitlin stood up so he wouldn’t tower over her.

“Oh wow. You’re really beautiful,” he said, cheeks colouring slightly but his smile never wavering.

Caitlin stuck out a hand, finding Chris’s grin contagious. “I’m Caitlin.”

Chris took it. “Chris. It’s s’awesome to meet you.”

*This takes place in the same alternative "Nursey-isn't-on-SMH" universe as this 

#charmer week #omgcp #omgcheckplease #caitlin farmer #chris chowder chow #charmer #caitlin farmer pov #omgcp fic #alternative meeting #I whored out my other work there at the bottom #this is probably the only charmer week stuff I'm gonna get to do though #stupid workload #my writing #I have a huge stupid backstory for both caitlin and spencer #spencer is an asshole but it's a defensive thing #she gets better #she'll be farmers best friend

[gageef]

Uncle Negan : Part Nine

IF YOU HAVEN’T READ PART EIGHT YOU SHOULD PROBABLY DO THAT BEFORE READING THIS PART, SO CLICK HERE TO DO THAT

OR CLICK HERE FOR THE MASTER LIST TO KEEP UP ON ALL OF IT

negan imagine / negan x you / negan x reader 

warnings: language

Your body started trembling as you stared down your husband, afraid to look away. Rick started to lightly step back and fourth in his place, looking from you, to Mary, to Negan, back to you. Negan placed his hand on your waist, handcuffing himself to your figure. The moment he tried to push you forward Rick made a run for it, coming straight for your new ‘happy’ family. All at once four saviors appeared from behind you, two grabbing his shoulders and the other two stopping him at gun point. 

“Well hold on just one god damn minute there, Rick.” Negan peered at you mid lip bite before inching towards Rick. Standing next to him, they both returned their gaze to you. “I know that dress she’s wearing just makes you want to fucking ravage her, right? I just can’t have you do that, you haven’t asked her permission or anything. You just going and laying a hand on her? That shit would just not be cool.” He continued to taunt him, pushing Mary’s father closer and closer to his breaking point. “I picked the dress out myself, by the way,” Negan leaned in, whispering inches away from Rick’s ear, “I have this skill ya see. When I have a lady with needs, I treat her like fucking royalty.” You began to feel lightheaded as you heard him repeat the same words he had said to you about Lucille. He motioned his famous bat towards you, “and let me tell you. New mom with a little angel like that? More needs than you could ever fucking imagine.” You expected him to try to break from the Saviors and go straight for Negan, but he knew better than to do that now. That killed you. “But I also have needs, and right now I have a hunger...” he brought Lucille up to his eyes, carefully looking her over. You lightly choked on the little air you had left. This was it, Negan had brought you on a family vacation so you could see your family killed. “...for some fucking cooking. I am starv-ing!” He grinned back at you, his joke forcing the air back into your lungs. “You-” he pointed to Carl, “take me to market. Uncle Negan’s cooking dinner tonight.” You nodded your head towards Carl, silently saying it would be okay. With that, Negan turned on his heel guiding himself and Carl to their diminished food supply. Halfway down the road you heard him whistle, acting as a human car key, unlocking Rick from the Saviors grasp. They returned to their trucks, leaving you, Rick and Mary in the center of the uncomfortably quiet Alexandria. 

Clutching Mary, you suddenly felt yourself sprinting towards Rick, slowly then all at once. As you came up to him you felt your breath double in weight as everything you had been suppressing at the Sanctuary started to bubble up in your eyes. Stumbling through various “ums” and “I’s” trying to hold yourself together, you felt yourself let go, collapsing to the ground with your tears following right behind you. Finding an odd sense of emotional strength seeing you like this, Rick forced himself to stay poised. Kneeling down and lifting you and Mary’s broken shattered forms he walked towards his house readying himself for the family reunion he had been dreaming of for weeks. 

He carried you inside and laid you down on the couch, your sobbing becoming almost uncontrollable. Leaning down over you, he wedged his hands around his baby, your arms leaving a space for her even after he removed her from your grasp. Rick’s nose started to quiver as Mary reached for his beard. He disappeared for a few minutes down the hallway before appearing in the living room once more. By the time he came back you had found the strength to stand, your frame trembling with every wheeze. 

“R...Ri..ck..Rick I-” All at once the decision was unanimous and you both embraced each other, your silent motions saying a thousand and one words. Every second feeling longer than the next making you wish you could stay here forever. 

“Nothing like pizza to bring a fucking group of people together--holy shit.”

But forever was of course impossible.

“If you wanted some time alone you could’ve told me to leave the fucking kid outside. Unless you have some funky scrambled egg shit type of family orgy preferences than by all means,” he laughed, turning to Carl. “Go out and help the men gather our half, use those strong arms for some damn good around here, huh? I’m about to go all Gordon Ramsel up on this kitchen’s ass.”

His attempt at humor soaked into the silence that surrounded it. 

“Or whatever the fuck his name is.”

____________

“Mmmmm, mmm. I don’t know about you guys, but I definitely outdid myself this time. This is the best fucking pizza I’ve had all damn day!” He laughed, his chewing as fierce as the look in his eyes. The three of you sat around the table, two candles lighting the void that was the dining room. “Shit, you know what would go well with this? Some fucking scrabble. Now I know in the middle of this dead ass suburbia that game has got to be laying around somewhe-”

“-I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Negan placed both hands on the table, finishing his last bites of pizza before addressing what had just been said. 

“Oh, I know you did not just fucking say that. I’m going to give you another chance. Let you correct the shit you just threw at me.”

You saw Rick’s jaw clench as he risked everything he had just been reunited with. “Last time we talked you said you’d return her when she was better. She’s here, she’s better, I’m going to have to ask you to take your half and leave my hous--” 

His voice was suspended by the click of Negan’s gun, which in seconds was pointed straight at you. 

“You just never fucking learn, do you.” He swiped a hand down his beard, taking a long breath before pounding his fist on the table. “Alright, let’s have some fucking fun.” In one swift motion he grabbed you at your midriff and carried you out the front door, despite your kicking and fighting. 

“OH, ALEXANDRIANS, DO WE HAVE A FUCKING SHOW FOR YOU.” He yelled as he carried you down to the front of the trucks. “ARAT, GO AHEAD AND WHIP OUT OUR GUEST OF HONOR.” He wrapped his arm around your chest almost blocking your neck from behind, gun at your head, making you now apparently the second hostage. Rick was yet again surrounded by Saviors who had forced him on all fours directly behind your warden. Slowly but surely the entirety of Alexandria filed out to the streets. This was too similar to the night everything went to shit. You wanted nothing more than to be free of this pain. You heard what you assumed was Arat dragging the first victim out to the party. Saw her throw the body down on all fours, sack over his head, feet away from Rick. “Get ready for the man of the mother fucking hour.” She removed the bag to leave you opposing Daryl yet again, but you knew this was Rick’s first time seeing him that night since Lucille went ballistic. The scene became deja vu as you saw Rick fall speechless into himself once again under Negan’s reign. “Boy do I just fucking LOVE family reunions.”

WELL THERE IT IS. WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN HUH? GUESS YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO WAIT TO FIND OUT. 

LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE IT, IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS OF WHERE YOU WANT IT TO GO, LITERALLY ANY FEEDBACK ABOUT ANYTHING IS SO EXTREMELY APPRECIATED. 

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love always <3

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[crownuponherhead]

FOR THE THINGS YOU SAID MEME: 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 11, 12, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19 and obv u don't have to do all of them like usual cause that's a lot but uGH what a good meme

i can’t believe this has been in my drafts for two years. ily. 

things you said too quietly

“I’m scared.” Her voice came out as a whisper while they curled up together in her bed. The sun was rising through the window they’d forgotten to pull the curtains on the night before. Nevan looked at her tiredly, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. In three hours they’d be heading to the airport to fly to visit his family for the weekend. and just from hearing what Nevan had been through growing up, the last thing she wanted was to actually witness it first hand. Shaking her head, Ana just gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Nothing I just need to get ready soon, you know what I’m like in the mornings.” She gave him a tired smile and curled close to him. “I can wait a few more minutes though.”

things you didn’t say at all

She should have said it, she knew that. They were sitting on the bed in his room, her evening gown still on, her hair falling out of the curls she’d pinned away to look professionally elegant at the gala for the night. Now as the numbers on the clock clicked through to the early morning, Nevan’s hand twined with hers as they just sat in comfortable silence. The three little words sat on the tip of her tongue. I love you. She didn’t say them though, the thought just staying in her mind more instead. Dear God, I love you so much Nev. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I just want be with you forever and have moments of silence like this that feel like the best thing in the world. She didn’t  say it though. She just moved his head to hers and kissed him sweetly letting her words do all the work. As she pulled back, she stood up turning her head to look at him. “Will you unzip me?” 

things you said under the stars and in the grass

“Okay! All set, blankets, pillows, telescopes, popcorn, Cass’ very special star cupcakes and drinks for all three of us!” Ana announced as she walked out the door for the final time holding the tray of cupcakes and the bowl of popcorn. Looking ahead she smiled at the sight of her husband and her four year old playing on the swing set that they had in their back yard. Setting the stuff down, Ana grabbed her daughter quickly as she slid down the slide. Kissing her forehead. “Come on, Princess, Daddy’s gonna show us all the stars!” Ana grinned ear to ear at Cassidy’s smile and she let her down. Watching the little girl run to the blanket she smiled even more when she felt Nevan’s arms wrap around her waist from behind. “You know if it weren’t for the fact that our four year old is calling all the shots tonight and we weren’t in our back yard and if our drinks weren’t non-alcoholic it’d be like our first time.” She murmured leaning against him. Turning to give him a quick kiss, but he’d already beat her to the punch. “Make sure to show her the constellation we named her after.” She smiled against his lips and let herself be dragged to the blankets where she sat with her husband and her daughter both with incredibly dorky and happy smiles on their faces. 

things you said when you were crying

He finds her on the floor, where she sits surrounded by broken glass. She’s sobbing hysterically, her blood on her hands, some of it on her legs. Her hair is in her face, the curls flat and stuck to her face now from the tears. She shakes her head every time the words. “it’s okay” and “you’re okay” come out of his mouth. Choking on a sob, she buries her head in his chest as he picks her up, abandoning the glass on the floor. “I don’t want to die!” She sobs harder with each sentence. “I can’t - It’s not fair my life has been shit and I can’t die early now that I have you!” She just repeats her words her mind not properly working. When he sets her down in the bathroom to wash the blood off her arms and legs, she immediately leans over to the toilet empty her stomach contents from all the distress. “I can’t die, I can’t it isn’t fair.” She hiccups, letting him wash her hands off and listening to his comforting words.

things you said when i was crying

One thing they’d always had in common was how much their families both viewed them as failures. Granted it was in completely different ways but they both did. Right now she wishes she would have gotten home earlier and checked the mail first, although knowing herself it probably would have blown up if she had seen the letter from his father first. She probably would have booked a flight straight to Tacoma just to destroy him with words like she had countless people who just annoyed her. Instead she sat on the ground with her fiancé’s head in her lap completely speechless and she dumped all their pills down the toilet just in case. How she’d come home and scared her to much to even risk it, she’d call in all the prescriptions again in the morning. She hummed a old song they used to yell sing in the car while they drove endlessly around Arizona exploring and enjoying their young lives. Because if Ana was honest she didn’t think that words would come out if she spoke.

things you said when you were drunk

“Nevan, baby, I don’t know how I don’t fight every girl in this damn frat house every time they look at you.” She might have taken too many shots of vodka earlier but she totally blamed Aaron because he thought that he could out drink her and boy did he mess with the wrong girl. Now however she was feeling it as her boyfriend held her up right as they swayed on the makeshift dance floor of the house. Honestly, she felt ridiculously sloppy but she also knew it didn’t matter in his eyes. “Really though, especially all these freshman you guys invite because their clueless but like...I just hate it I feel the need to make it you know obvi that they’re messing and looking with the wrong guy. Like that girl, Mia’s grand little, ugh I wanted to punch her in the face for even trying to flirt with her like god what an annoying bitch.” She sighed again before grinning up at Nevan. “but like, baby, I just love you so much.” Ana let out a giggle and kissed his shoulder the only place she could reach in her state. 

things you said when you thought i was asleep

It’d been two weeks since they’d gone camping, laid in bed with him in her room, staring at the pictures on the wall with a sigh. “I’ve never been in love before you, I know you know that but it’s different. I know my mother loved me with all her heart and her side of the family tries their hardest to fill that void but it’s different. The love I feel from you is unlike anything in the world and I feel so at home in your arms. At ease knowing you’ll never hurt me with your words that there’s something so real with us that it’s not just me dreaming. I feel so at ease knowing this is real and not what I was doomed to live fake, all for money. I just...I love you so much.” She sighed looking over at her boyfriend who she thought was asleep and curled closer to him with happy sigh. 

things you said after you kissed me

“Nev,” Ana let out a soft giggle as her fiancé pulled her closer despite the fact that her family was just a few steps away in the ballroom. She’d pulled him away from the pretentious crowd a few moments ago after seeing how he acted around her baby cousins who were fascinated with seeing their Ana’s boyfriend. With another grin against his lips she pushed him back a bit gently. “Baby, you know those kids are gonna be searching for you in a few minutes, they’re head over heels for you. You’ve officially won the hardest approval in the Vanderbilt family, the children.” Looking at him with another grin she gave him a quick kiss before walking back towards the ballroom hand in hand. “Once the kids love you, the adults fall too.” She teased with a wink.

things you said with no space between us

if I do this one I'm gonna write literal smut and this is a PG ask meme. 

things you said that i wish you hadn’t

“Nevan I know you don’t want to but maybe this counseling will be good, and hey at least your Mom seems to care about it. Isn’t that a step up?” Ana said as she drove down the not so familiar streets of Tacoma in his car that she was so not used to. She really missed her BMW when she came to visit him but she didn’t want to kill her mileage Washington was too far for her precious car. As she held onto his hand she couldn’t help but feel how he squeezed it gently and then stronger each time the GPS gave out directions. “Plus I’ll be interning at Gucci this summer and the boss is a family friend and she’s already made sure I’ll be able to fly back every weekend and you’ll be done by fourth of July and can come back to the city with me and we can explore it like it’s our future. I promise it’ll be okay.” If only Ana knew it would be the first promise she’d ever break to him. 

things you said when you were scared

She sat in the in the waiting room with a blank face her arms had been picked and prodded all day, Nevan by her side had almost been force-feeding her all day with her nerves. Ana had been too silent the whole time too scared to speak the truth until this moment when they only had one more hour until the last test. “What if I’m dying?” She let out looking down at her arms now covered with bandages and her hands shaking from nerves. “What if I have to leave you like my Mom left me?” It’s all she got out before her nerves got the best of her and she found herself leaning into him to hide her tears too afraid that this moment was fleeting. She couldn’t even hear his promises of you aren’t to calm herself down, her demons were too real in this moment. It was almost as if it was karma catching up to her for everything she did after her Mom died. 

things you said when we were the happiest we ever were

please press the following to see the realest love in the world 

#nevana #opp; nevan #c; ana #I HATE MYSELF TWO YEARS IN MY DRAFTS