#anyways yeah sorry to oc post so sorry nail me to the cross | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nrc-broadcasting · 1 year

Note

i dont know if you're answering asks right now, but yeah haha, happy holidays and merry christmas if you celebrate it!

note: sorry for the horrendously long ask

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Good day, Prefect, I've been thinking of sending a message for a while now, and I've finally gathered up the courage to do so. I'm a second-year student from Heartslabyul, and I'd like some help with some things. You see, there are these two cat twins from Pomefiore; they're first-years, and they're known to stir up mischief and cause havoc everywhere they go, and most people aren't exactly fond of them because of that. The thing is, I'm in a polyamorous relationship with the mentioned twins, and when word of that started to spread, people started to discourage me from continuing my relationship with them, telling me that I shouldn't associate myself with such delinquents. But the thing is, despite being mischievous and chaotic, they're actually quite sweet and know when to stop with their antics; they're also very caring at times too. But most people aren't aware of this side of them since they only ever show it to me. Now, Prefect, if it doesn't bother you too much, may I ask, how do I convince people that they aren't all bad? And what should I do if they continue to tell me to end our relationship solely due to their reputation? I thank you in advance.

~ Harlan

Been Under Scrutiny

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Ah yes, I thought this would be perfect for February, so here we are. Is Harlan talking about the Pomefiore Siameses by any chance? I vaguely remember seeing a post about those OCs but I can’t seem to find it again so sorry if this took a while.

Here they are again, sitting on a comfortable leather chair(courtesy of Professor Crewel), a mic placed onto the studio’s mahogany table. A platter of snacks placed to their far right, beside a stack of canned tuna and a sleeping Grim.

Their school issued laptop with a tab already open to read messages from listeners and their simple phone case facing side up.

Stretching their arms and cracking their back to get their blood flowing, they finally turn on the mic with a muffled yawn.

“Once again,” Yuu fixes their tie even if they can’t be seen.

“Good morning Twisted Wonderland! We’re finally back after… sh-t I can’t remember—” They turn away and whisper in realization.

“—a long time!” They turn back, a strange look on their face.

“Today’s ask is… quite lengthy. But so are most of them these days.” They playfully roll their eyes.

“Hmm.” Tentative eyes skim the message, soaking up the information like a sponge.

“Pomefiore cat twins…” They give a thoughtful hum.

They strum the mahogany table with their nails for a few moments, racking their brain for memories of said twins.

“Cat twins in Pomefiore… might you mean Akanda and Akenya Siam?” They trace their bottom lip with their index finger in contemplation.

An…unfortunate encounter with another set of twins’ prank crosses their mind.

“Ah. Probably not.” They grimaced at the memory.

“Perhaps…Siddell and Amani? Sorry, I don’t know their last names.” Yuu smiled sheepishly.

“Yes, they might be who you’re referring to. I might not have the best first impression of them, but it’s good to see them treat you as you deserve.”

“Anyways, back to the topic at hand,” Yuu pulls their school issued laptop closer to them.

“Let me provide a little summary of your situation,” Their eyes travel back to the message.

“You, Harlan, are in a polymerous relationship with the Pomefiore cat twins. They are known delinquents, which makes people around you to discourage your relationship, and this led to the twins attempting to shield you from that scrutiny by asking you to leave them,” They twist the ring around their finger, eyes still on the message.

“Huh, they seem a fair amount protective.” They remark.

“So from what I’ve gathered, the main question here is how do you defend both your relationship and partner— sorry, partners, from people who want 1950’s sh-t from you.” They softly click their tongue.

“I understand the need to defend you from others, but why do they seem so willingly to give your relationship up? As delinquents, one would expect them to not give a damn about what other people think and fight for what they think is right.”

“So where did that come from?” They ask.

“Yes, it might be to protect you, but at the cost of your relationship?” Yuu raised an eyebrow.

“That hardly seems like a fair trade.” They narrow their eyes.

“I think you should deal with your partners’ pleads first. As for what to say when you do,” They breathe, sincerely hoping this doesn’t sound wrong or out-of-pocket.

“Just say no. You know they’re asking you because they feel bad and think they don’t deserve you, so tell them it’s just self sabotage and encourage them to fight for your relationship than giving up on it.”

“Taking the easy way out is never good, so fight for it, even if it makes your knuckles bruise like violets.” They shrug.

“Then, defending and/or proving your relationship to other people will be easier as you now have them help you to maintain the relationship rather than giving in to other people’s opinions and pushing your break-up.”

“As for proving the relationship, the only thing I can really suggest as someone who’s been single since birth:,) is crank up the PDA and encourage them to show their sweet side. Since you’re already together, I don’t see any reason for embarrassment.”

“If they make you feel comfortable, if they make you feel loved, if you want to stay with them, then stay! You’ll be damned if you give a damn what people.” They say.

“If you long for those melancholic moments, staring the at ceiling with them when they never say too much. When they don’t have to read into your melancholia…”

“Then stay in their lavender haze.”

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Our fairytale has come to an end.

#twst yuu #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #unique magic: listen up #twst imagines #twst mc #answered asks #unique magic

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 10)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, mentions of trauma

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A week passed by in no time and most of it was spent in bed for Daphne as she recovered. Her wounds and bruises were healing nicely and she could walk without feeling like she was about to keel over. She needed the rest though with the amount of blood she lost. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Matt or his alter ego but Foggy stopped by every day to bring her food for dinner. Surprisingly, she wasn't sick of him yet and he insisted it was all part of the friendship package. She appreciated it since she hadn't felt up to cooking. It was all home cooked stuff and she had no idea if he'd cooked it himself or someone else had. Either way it was good. He'd come over and hang out with her while they ate and just make idle conversation. But as the week wore on she was getting increasingly stressed about the fact that Mr Lee's son hadn't been caught yet. Foggy had commented on her waning patience but she couldn't help it.

She was lounging in bed in a pair of yoga pants and the t-shirt Matt had loaned her. She didn't know why it was so soft but she liked it and he hadn't asked for it back. As far as she was concerned, it now belonged to her. She was getting restless. Between the maniac not being caught and her being cooped up to recover, she'd gotten bored. She couldn't wait to go back out and do something. She hadn't told Foggy about her nightmares about the attack. She had them every night and she wasn't getting much sleep. She had too much pride to admit how much the ordeal had shaken her. Seeing a dead body and being brutally attacked like that had done a number on her confidence. She couldn't get the images of Mr Lee's lifeless body out of her mind or forget how it felt when her air supply was being cut off. She'd often wake gasping for breath and unable to breathe. She hoped it would ease in time.

Her phone rang from the nightstand and she groaned, rolling over to get it. Glancing at the screen she saw it was Brett. He’d called her every day and it was always that same; 'Sorry, D, nothing today. We'll keep trying.' She appreciated it and Brett seemed dead set on nailing the bastard. But he had somehow just vanished into thin air and she hated it.

"Hey," she sighed into the phone.

"Got some good news," she could practically hear his grin and she sat up quickly. She winced at the pinching feeling of her stitches but it didn't hurt too much. She was glad her body was starting to heal.

"Please tell me you got him," she pleaded hopefully.

"Not us. Asshole is currently comatose in hospital. Daredevil found him. Really got him good too. I know you worked with him a bit, you must've left quite the impression on him. If this little prick is anything to go by, the Devil was pissed," he chuckled.

She blinked dumbly for a moment as his words soaked in. Matt had found him. And beat him into a coma. Her brain wasn't quite comprehending it. Why would he go out of his way like that? Then again, the guy was crazy and a danger and most definitely a criminal. Of course the Devil of Hell's Kitchen would hand his ass to him.

"I'm glad, got what he deserved," she bit out. She really hoped he'd suffered.

"Damn right. Next time you see your horned friend, make sure you thank him for his hard work," he laughed. She snorted wondering how he had no idea how he interacted with the Devil almost on a daily basis.

"I will. What happens now?" She asked, nibbling her lower lip.

"He's got guards here for when he wakes up. When he does, we book him. We got stacks of evidence against him and Mr Lee's wife folded too. She's going to testify for a reduced sentence for her part in all of this… you did good, D. Without your help this might not have been solved," he said sincerely.

She sighed, leaning back against her pillows.

"Yeah, maybe," she murmured. She knew there was some truth to his words. Just like Matt said, this would have happened no matter what. No matter if she'd warned Mr Lee or even if she'd never met him at all. She knew she helped get him justice. Yet she still felt that guilt burrowing in her mind.

"Alright. I gotta go, but I'll keep you posted if anything happens," he said.

"Thanks, Brett," she smiled softly. She felt a huge relief that he'd been caught now. He'd finally get punished for what he did. Part of her wished that the nightmares would end now.

"Hey, don't thank me. Thank your boy, Daredevil," he chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah. I will," she rolled her eyes goodnaturedly before hanging up.

Part of her wanted to see Mr Lee's son. See the damage Matt had done. Maybe it was sadistic of her but she couldn't help it after what he'd put her through. She wondered how it went down. Did Matt look for him or was it by chance? And why did Brett seem so shocked by how badly he'd beaten the maniac? Brett saw plenty of the thugs Matt dealt with but he acted like this was worse.

Glancing to her large window, she saw the moon filtering in a little. She pushed herself off the bed, sitting on the window ledge as she opened it slightly.

"You around?" She asked seemingly to no one. She was curious if he'd hear her. She had no idea what range his hearing was or if he was even out and about right now. For all she knew he was fast asleep in bed. But she should have known better. Of course there was no rest for the wicked. Or the righteous in his case. He jumped down and landed on her fire escape with such grace it almost shocked her.

"In the neighbourhood," he smirked. He seemed a lot more himself than the solemn gentleness he'd shown her when she was injured. Part of her missed it, the other part was grateful so it wasn't weird.

"Heard you found Mr Lee's son. Nice work," she flashed him a toothy grin. She'd be a liar if she said she didn't feel heaps better now. Knowing he was caught, that Matt had given him a taste of his own medicine first. It made her perk up. He chuckled, crossing his arms as he leant back on the railings.

"I did. I think he'll be eating out of a straw for a while," he quipped.

"Brett seemed to think you were angrier than usual this time. I didn't even think that was possible," she said, leaning against the window a little.

He chuckled, lowering his head before licking his lower lip.

"Yeah well… I found it hard to hold back," he admitted. She wanted to press on but decided against it. Better not to look into it and go on like normal. Acquaintances at best. Not friends that look out for each other.

"Foggy's been keeping me company everyday. Been bringing me food. I didn't know he could cook so well," making small talk with him felt weird but she'd thanked him and now she didn't know how to end the conversation without being completely rude. She owed him that at least for taking care of the asshole who attacked her.

"Foggy can't cook worth shit," he snorted, looking off at the distance.

"Who’s food have I been eating then?" She asked bewildered.

"Mine," be smirked devilishly at her. It suited him in that moment as his suit was bathed in moonlight.

She blinked for a moment as his words soaked in. Her first thought was how she was impressed he could cook so well without sight. But then she remembered who he was and it paled in comparison to the other shit he could do. Then she was just confused why he'd been cooking for her. She opened her mouth to ask him but he stood up straighter, head tilted as he did the weird listening thing again.

"Gotta go," he flashed her another smirk and with that he was off. She wondered if the more cocky side of his personality was tied to the suit or if it was just him. She settled on figuring he'd been cooking for him and Foggy anyway so she got some too. It was best not to touch anything that meant he was looking out for her. It was weird.

She closed the window and padded back to her bed, getting under the covers with a sigh. Her life had changed quite a bit since meeting the lawyers even if she hadn't known them long. Foggy was actually a breath of fresh air for her. He was always so optimistic but also wouldn't hold back if it was needed. He genuinely was a good friend and the first real friend she'd ever had. Matt on the other had confused her. He was either rude, cocky and snarky, granted most of the time it was in response to her own bitchiness, or he was gentle, protective, and saving her ass. The unpredictability was what bothered her. Never knowing what was going on in his head. She remembered what Foggy said about them clashing because they were alike. Unpredictable was a word used many times to describe her. Maybe her issue with the vigilante was because it was like looking into a mirror. The thought jarred her.

When he was nice, she found she enjoyed his company. And she couldn't say he didn't intrigue her. He really did. Everything from his lack of sight to his extra curricular activities had her curious. But being around him always left her head spinning and her back up. She blew out a breath, deciding she was thinking far too much about Matt and it needed to stop. Once this whole him avenging her bullshit eased off maybe he'd just not drop by anymore. Maybe it would go back to normal.

The next day she spent most of the day getting her PI stuff ready. Checking and double checking her backpack and testing her camera. She was buzzing with excitement that she was going to investigate. She hadn't since the attack. She’d barely left the house. She felt good about jumping right back into it. It was the surveillance job for the Italian Brett had assigned her before everything went down. She needed to scout him out, see where he went and who with. It was simple and easy, well if it went according to plan. So she was feeling more cheerful than she had in a while.

As usual, she liked to wait until it was going dark before she went out. She'd dressed in her dark clothes, a pullover hoodie, jeans and her boots. The boots that she'd had to scrub clean in the bath after they got blood all over them. She couldn't exactly afford more. Her hair was in two French braids so she could easily pull her hood up to conceal her face when needed. Her backpack was on the coffee table along with her camera and she couldn't help checking if the memory card worked every five minutes. A knock on her door made her eyes widen. Fuck, Foggy. She'd forgotten to even let him know she'd be going out and he'd be bringing her dinner as usual. Maybe he'd understand she had things to do.

She swung open the door and Foggy gave her a toothy grin, holding up the bag that she now knew held Matts home cooked food. She was still perplexed by the notion but pushed it out of her mind. When Foggy saw her clothes, his eyes darted over her shoulder to her backpack and camera on the coffee table.

"Oh… you're off out?" He asked, trying to hide his disappointment and failing. She felt a pang in her chest.

"Yeah. Gotta get back on the horse sometime," she nodded feeling more than awkward. Foggy pursed his lips before forcing a smile as he nodded at her.

"Yeah… that's… good. I'll uh… I can just…" he backed up a few steps to leave and the pang of guilt got bigger. Damn it all to hell, this is why she didn't do friends.

He looked so disappointed and if she was honest with herself she knew she'd miss their usual friendly dinner herself. She'd been enjoying the companionship and she'd started to get used to not being so alone. Only Foggy Nelson could put a chip in her thick armour.

"Foggy, wait… it's fine. I could use some dinner before I head out," she smiled softly at him. Almost hesitant at this weird and new situation she found herself in. He looked surprised for a moment before a grin split his face. It was still weird to her that he wanted to be around her. Wanted to be her friend.

"Awesome! It's lasagna today, it's so good," he beamed as he came inside.

He navigated her kitchen with ease as he plated their food up for them both. That was the routine and it was always weird to watch him in her kitchen like he lived there but she surprisingly never minded it. He came into the living room, passing her a plate where she sat on the couch and he took his usual spot in the armchair. He started munching with gusto and she pushed some of the food around with her fork for a moment as she glanced at him. Never once had he mentioned Matt when he came here and he'd always made it seem like he himself had cooked the food. He'd never outright said it, no doubt since it would be a bare faced lie. But he'd implied it.

"Matt dropped in last night," she murmured casually, popping a forkful of lasagna into her mouth. Matt was a dick but the man could cook. It was amazing.

"Oh, yeah. He told me, about the whole crazy dick turned coma patient,” he snorted as he scarfed his food down.

"Mhm… he's a great cook, don't you think?" She asked slyly. Foggy started choking on his mouthful of food and she couldn't even suppress the smirk that worked its way into her face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Foggy struggled with the food that seemed lodged in his throat.

"He told me, Foggy. I complimented your cooking skills and he told me you can't cook worth shit. He decided to let me know he'd been the one cooking before he slipped off into the night like a goddamn movie villain," she snorted.

"Fine! You got me, the jig is up!" He proclaimed, rather dramatically too if she had to say so. It made her laugh.

"Is there a reason you lied?" She asked with an amused look on her face. He squinted and pointed his fork at her.

"I didn't lie. I never once said I made it. I may have misled you but at no time did I lie," he pressed. Such a lawyer. She rolled her eyes at him with a snort.

"Honestly … me and Matt didn't think you'd eat it if you knew, so I decided to just… not tell you," he shrugged. His throat seemed to be faring better now as he started eating again.

"You really think I'm that petty?" She scoffed. He raised a brow at her before they both burst out laughing. They both knew she was.

"How are you holding up anyway? Feel better now that asshole's been caught?" Foggy asked once they calmed down.

"Yeah. I was starting to give up honestly. It's nice to know he's gonna get what's coming to him. Well… he already kinda has," she smirked as she remembered what Brett said.

"Tell me about it. I was with Brett when he got a call about Keiran at the hospital. I went with him and just… wow," he muttered as he shook his head.

"How bad was he?" She asked curiously. She couldn't even contain the happiness from her voice and he shot her a look. Asshole deserved it though.

"Really bad. I've seen some of the people after Matt’s done with them, but this guy. Ouch. The thing is though… I didn't even feel bad for him. Knowing what he did, seeing what he did to you… I'm not surprised Matt went hard at him," he said carefully.

"I'm honestly surprised. I mean, sure Daredevil catches bad guys and kinda kicks their ass. And I've heard some wild stories about him. But the dude’s in a coma and Brett wasn't sure when he'd wake up. Didn't think Matt would care so much about Mr Lee. He didn't even know him," she murmured, standing up with her now empty plate. She took Foggy's too and padded into the kitchen. It was getting late now and she still had to go out and investigate.

"Matt cares about everyone in this city, whether he's met them or not. And he also really really cares about his friends. He doesn't take too kindly to people attacking them," he responded pointedly from where he sat.

She pursed her lips, plonking the dishes in the sink before turning around. She leant back on the counter and tilted her head at him.

"Bold of you to assume me and Matt are friends," she teased. Foggy just squinted at her as he stood up.

"Well whatever you are, he didn't like that asshole laying his hands on you. Or his knife. So…" he shrugged. She wanted to make a comment. Something about how she didn't need Matt’s protection and they really weren't friends. Acquaintances at most and even that was pushing it. But deep down she knew that Keiran wouldn't have been caught if it wasn't for Daredevil and she tried to push her snark away

"I really need to head out before it's too late," she sighed, glancing to the darkening sky. Foggy sighed with a nod.

"Anything exciting? Nothing dangerous I hope," he frowned. When Foggy seemed to care she didn't mind it.

"Just surveillance. It's on the Italian that the other one ratted out. He's not a major player but he might lead the cops to one. Brett's given me strict instructions to keep my distance and just observe," she explained, grabbing her backpack. She slung it over her shoulders and then put her camera around her neck.

"Okay… good. That sounds not too life threatening. It means I won't lose sleep," he grinned. She flipped him off with a roll of her eyes. He reminded her of her sister a bit, the way he fussed over her. Maybe that's why she liked him so much.

They left the apartment together and when they got outside they would be going opposite ways.

"Alright. Stay safe, make sure you listen to Brett about keeping your distance. If you need help… well just scream, I'm sure Matt will hear you," he chuckled.

"Yes, mom," she smirked. He blanched before pouting at her. Before she had a chance to say anything else, he gave her a quick hug. That was another new thing she had to adjust to. He always left with a hug. They were always brief and she wondered if it was because he knew this was new to her and she needed to adjust. Either way she found she liked it.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled at her. She gave him a mock salute, making him chuckle before she started walking down the street.

Hours went by as she followed Mr Antonio Ricci. He was a big looking dude but he was wearing an expensive looking suit. He'd just been walking through town, visiting shops here and there as he went before closing time. She was following from the other side of the street, her hood pulled up as she discreetly took pictures of every store he went in. She was itching to go in and see just what he was doing. He never came out with anything so he certainly wasn't buying. But she knew she had to keep her distance. She took her job seriously and also her body wasn't 100% yet. She was mostly okay but she didn't feel like getting jumped would be a good idea. Even the thought of it made her stomach clench. She was still dealing with the mental after effects of her last attack.

After a while, he seemed to meet up with a pretty brunette. She was dressed in a gold dress that wrapped around her like it was liquid. She was breathtaking honestly and Daphne made sure to snap some pictures of her not knowing if she was important or not. She ended up following them as they took a stroll. They were laughing and holding hands, stopping every now and again to kiss. It was sickening. They ended up going inside a restaurant and she pouted knowing she couldn't go in. Not only would that mean possibly blowing her cover, but she wouldn't even be allowed in a fancy place like that with how she was dressed. So now she was across the street, lurking in the mouth of an alley as she waited bored for them to come back out. She had no idea when they'd be done.

"You look like you're working hard," she whipped around at the quip, rolling her eyes as Daredevil was perched on the dumpster. He hopped down like a graceful cat before sauntering closer to her.

"Just waiting for my mark to leave," she sighed, sounding as bored as she felt, gesturing with her head to the restaurant across the street. He seemed like he looked over at it despite having no point to.

"What are you doing here anyway?" She asked briskly.

"I was around. Thought I'd check you weren't in danger," he snarked, causing her eyes to narrow to slits.

"Hm.. funny how you keep being 'around'. Anyone would think you're following me," she bit out, turning her back to him to keep an eye out for Antonio.

"Please, you're not that special," he scoffed.

She pursed her lips as she waited but she was getting agitated. It wasn't helped by Daredevil hovering around. She glanced back to him then and grinned as an idea formed in her mind. One that would help her and then she could go home and far away from him.

"Meet me on that roof," she said, not waiting for an answer as she left the alley they were in and jogged across the street. She walked in the alley beside the restaurant and started climbing the fire escape, waiting as Matt made his stealthy way over. Before long, he'd jumped across to the building she was on and made his way over.

"What are we-" he started, irritation in his voice. She shushed him and it only seemed to make him more agitated, his fists clenching as his jaw ticked.

"Sit down," she demanded, sitting on the roof with her legs cross. He just started in her direction for a moment before a low growl left his lips, heavily sitting down in front of her.

"I've got better things to do than play whatever this game is with you," he huffed.

"Maybe pulling that stick out of your ass should be number one on the list," she quipped dryly, shrugging off her backpack.

"Daphne," he warned, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Look, I just need your help for a sec and then you can get back on your white knight bullshit and I can go home. Chill," she huffed. She uncrossed one of her legs as she unzipped her pack and grabbed the pen and pad from inside.

"Fine, what do you want?" He bit out reluctantly. Her lips quirked up before glancing at him.

"We're on the roof of the restaurant. I need you to use your spidey senses, listen in for me," she requested. She could feel his glower through the mask and she smirked slyly.

"Anything in particular?" He asked tensely. He was always tense. Especially when he was in this suit.

"The guy is Antonio. See if you can hone in on him and the girl he's with. Anything about what he's been doing today, about the Italians or even about her. I don't know who she is. Just whatever seems interesting," she said clicking her pen ready. She watched him intently as he tilted his head and she wondered what it was like being him. What it must be like to lose his sight but then have all his others senses heightened to this degree. She didn't know if it would be a blessing or a curse. Possibly both. She was patient, letting him sort through the many people in there until he found what they were looking for.

"Her name is Bianca, they're on a date," he murmured, sounding far away and distracted. She suppressed the urge to throw a 'duh' at him about the date comment and instead scribbled her name.

"He’s… he's being vague but it sounds like he's been collecting money from shop owners. He called it protection money," she jotted down Matt’s words and wondered what that meant. Protection from other gangs or their own.

"There's a meeting. Next Friday night. The Italians and the Chinese are meeting at the Yellow Lilly," he muttered.

"Wow, this guy doesn't know what discrete means," she snorted quietly as she wrote it all down. She’d honestly expected nothing more than the girl's name but Antonio didn't seem to know when to keep his mouth shut. Anyone could be listening in.

She watched Matt as he started to look frustrated before he sighed, his head no longer tilted.

"It's uh… all I got," he sounded annoyed but more so at himself.

"Wow, super senses not what they used to be, huh?" She teased, stuffing her pad and pen back in her bag.

"Yeah well, it's kind of hard to focus with a concussion," he hissed. She blinked at him for a moment as his lips clamped shut, jaw ticking once more. Why did she feel a little bad about that? She hadn't even thought about the possibility of him being injured despite his nightly job. She sucked her lower lip a little before letting it pop back out of her teeth.

"This is fine anyway. More than I thought," she murmured, trying to be somewhat amicable about it. He lowered his head and nodded.

She stood up and he followed suit, a silence hanging between them as it always did when they didn't know what to say. Whenever something presented itself that made them cease fire on their words, it seemed like they didn't know how to act around each other.

"Well… thanks for the help, Devilboy. I'm gonna head home and catch some z's," she said awkwardly as they stood at the edge near the fire escape. A shrill scream in the alley below them caught them both off guard. They glanced over the wall of the roof to see an older woman clinging to her bag as some dude was trying to grab it. She wasn't surprised when Matt climbed his way down and started kicking his ass.

She wished she had popcorn for the show. It was impressive, especially from her vantage point. It didn't take long for Matt to knock out the thug but then the woman grabbed her purse and ran off. It struck her as a little rude and now he wouldn't even be able to call it in to the cops. If she was in the wind there was nothing they could do about the mugging. She watched with complete amusement as Matt picked up the unconscious man and tossed him in the dumpster. She snorted, wishing she would be there when he woke up.

Instead of using the stairs back up, Matt swung and climbed his way up with ease and she partly wondered if he just liked showing off. He was panting a little when he got back to her and leaned back to sit on the small ledge of the roof.

"Well that was rude," she commented amused.

"Really? It's only a dumpster, I didn't peg you as the kind of person who'd be upset by that," he scoffed. She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms.

"Not that. That was fucking hilarious. I'm on about the woman. No thank you, nothing. Just runs off like you didn't save her ass," she mused, glancing to where the woman had ran off.

"Yeah well… it's a thankless job," he shrugged. He didn't sound bothered at all and she wondered if that's how it normally went. He had some patience, except with her it seemed. She’d honestly think of charging people if she was super powered and fighting crime.

"Thanks for the show, it's been fun. I'm gonna head out," she drawled, securing her backpack better before stepping onto the fire escape.

"I'll walk you back," he said instantly. She looked back at him, her face scrunched up slightly.

"I'll be fine. I'm not a damsel, remember? You go save some other poor saps, I don't need a bodyguard," she quipped hotly. His jaw did the tick thing again but he didn't say anything. She was glad he didn't argue or that he didn't follow her as she descended the stairs of the fire escape.

She was pleased with the info she'd gotten, even if Matt had to help her to get it. She refused to acknowledge what Foggy had said about them possibly being a good team. She’d hand over what she knew to Brett and see what he wanted her to do next. She walked home in the darkness feeling satisfied she was back to being herself, unaware of the shadow following her from the rooftops and keeping a watchful eye.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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starstainedtea · 4 years

Note

DUDE P L E A S E POST YOUR WRITINGS OF BOMBER. i Cannot Get Enough Of Her. i am Heart Eyes. you know how pikachu says “pika pika” cuz that’s his name? i am saying “simp simp!”

okay that’s cute, thanks b!

now, now, let’s start with some dialogues that she has? sINCE YUH. MAYBE I’LL POST HER STORIES SOON I DON’T KNOW, MAYHAPS!

also, anything below the keep reading line is some of my HCS for her, but they won’t necessarily be canon. uNlEss-

BOMB weapons thermo bomb nail bomb smoke bomb collapsible fighting staff/glock

domination lines

scout;; — ooh, too hot to handle? (thermo bomb) — should've shot the nuts. (glock) — always on makin' noise, eh? (nail bomb) —ah, out of breath? let's keep it that way. (any)

pyro;; —let’s see what’s underneath that mask. (glock) —tsk, and those boys fear you? you’re *nothing*. (nail bomb) —i’d say something but your head’s blown to pieces. (thermo bomb) —what're you gonna do, burn me? (thermo bomb)

demo;; —go dump some alcohol for me. (thermo) —ooo, yikes poor man’s no more. (nail bomb- critical hit) —final round for you, sweetheart. (any)

sniper;; —a professional? please, i don't even need a scope. (glock) —always teasing me looking up, snipe.. your turn. (nail bomb) —your blood on the wall is such a turn on. (thermo bomb- critical hit)

spy;; —the french are the best at losing. (glock) —you make a competent cross-dresser! (nail bomb- cloaked or disguised) —sweet dreams, petit cheu fleur. (any; i don’t know how to do the thingies using a pc so deal with that, frenchies) —sorry ‘bout the head. ya only needed one anyway. (thermo bomb; critical hit)

soldier;; —time to retire, old man. (any) —outdated and pathetic, as expected. (glock) —going out with a bang! (thermo bomb) —here’s a dishonourable discharge. (any- bombs)

engie;; —final nail to your coffin, engie. (nail bomb) —now can i steal the guitar? (glock) —always too casual, yet under-qualified for the job. (any bomb) —guard your sentries better, sweetheart. (thermo bomb- critical hit)

heavy;; —i just wanna squish that dumb face- oh, nevermind. (thermo bomb) —your brain’s all over the place, and they say you don't have a brain. (any) —not my fault you’re such an easy target! (nail bomb- critical hit) —sorry... not so much. (glock)

medic;; —feelin' good, doc? (in a mocking german accent) (any) —always relyin’ on someone to protect ya, med. (any) —mad doctor? ya look like an underpaid dentist. (glock) —oops, trigger slipped! (any)

bomber;; —aww, how adorably *pathetic*. die. (nail bomb) —have a taste of acid, darl. (thermo bomb) —nice thighs. too bad you run slow. (glock or any bomb) (also a lie-) —i don’t know if it’s you or the bomb but that’s hot! (thermo bomb- critical hit)

tech;; —you lost your touch, mi.. amor. (glock) —shocked? don't be 'cause i'm better. (any) —you can't run away from me anymore. (thermo bomb) —we make a perfect match. in hell. (any)

taunts (bomb exclusive) — pick-me-up- lollipop and hip sways! lasts for five seconds. with sounds such as "nice!" "easy and sweet!" "suck on that, (class name)."

— fourth of july?- she pulls out a few firecrackers out of her pocket and lights it up using a lighter, tapping her foot as a few smokes build up before it all leaves out flying everywhere. "WHOOO! that's how we do it, amigos!" "kiss my arse, losers!"

— the kicker- a high kick like a russian dance, front and back with a somewhat smooth land. after regaining her balance, she flips her hair and puts her hands on her hips. (can be a partner taunt) "be scared." "aw, how sad." "that's right!"

— stack the craps- she pulls out a whole deck of cards and plays with it, a small grin on her lips. can be partnered. there's also a few playing tokens in her pouch falling. disappearing after the taunt as she sits down on the floor with a small 'yes' "it's like playin' with toddlers here!" "pfft, craps time." "i do not cheat."

— bitey bite- the bomber cackles and stomps around and then a stick appears and she acts like a rabid dog, running around to catch the stick with her mouth. "*growling.*" "grrr, chippers-" *coughing* "i think some wood went in my mouth!"

cheers — "we're killin' it, boys!" — "whooo, all in a day's work!" — "more than i expected from y'all." — "we're just better, blu/red!"

jeers — "what was that?" — "frickin' pathetic, guys!" — "you boys are just useless!" — "this is really ticking me off." — "seriously, i wanna kill all of you."

revenge — "i was just testin' ya, now let's see if you can handle me." — "d'aw, que lindo de tu parte.." — "dominate this, ya defunct wannabe." — "let's see if you're up for a duel." — "you and me, let's tango."

payload cart moving;; — "keep it goin', boys!" — "this oughta give us some more time." — "too heavy!" cart stopping;; — "andale! the cart won't walk to the checkpoint!" — "vamonos, god damn it!" — "ayy, boys! what's happening? cart's stopped!" — "vamonos, hombres!"

if you read this far, you get to see some domination lines of my other tf2 oc ;))

BUTLER DOMINATION LINES

scout: - "leave the hit and run on me, pretty boy." - "YOU'RE an offense class? bloody hell, i don’t remember scouting for ya." - "you're making a fool out of yourself. go back home." - "you're easier to kill when you're running, mate! re-evaluate yourself!"

spy: - "amateur, a goddamned toddler wouldn't be so sloppy." - "next time, watch the shadows, monsieur." - "merci bijou, you've helped me sharpen my skills." - "you should run back to your family," [there's a small chuckle before their voice drops] "-oh yeah, you left them in the first place."

soldier: - "aaand the british strikes again." - "your knowledge of war is in par with an idiot, sir!" - "your country thanks you for an unwanted service!" -"mr. doe, it's such a shame." [pause] "my suit is all bloodied."

#oc #ocs #concept #dialogues #hc #hcs #tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 dialogues #domination lines #team fortress 2 #tenth class #wait there's an eleventh someone stop them

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galadrieljones · 4 years

Text

As You Were (Chapter 11)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Found Family, Joel Lives | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

Summary:

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret, filled with painful memories and reminders of the past. But they aren’t alone. When they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival on their family farm, things finally start to take a new shape, altering the course of their lives in irrevocable ways. In the end, for those with little hope to spare, family is what you make it.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second.

*chapter specific cw: mention of suicide, depression

Chapter 11: Interlude II (The Ark)

That night, they sat up in the crow's nest, on separate bean bags, looking at their hands. Noah had wanted to take inventory of his books to decide which he was going to bring with him on the road, and which he was going to leave behind. But it felt weird now that he was up there, and pointless, and sad. Everything he knew, he would have to leave behind, and he would never see it again. Everything. They would have to board up the house, post signs on the electric fence. CONTAMINATED WATER. DO NOT DRINK. They should probably burn it all down, but his mother would not allow that. It was her childhood home, too. They would seal it up instead as a tomb and maybe in 100 years when the spores died or the mushrooms got burnt out the river by somebody with the means to do so, an enterprising explorer would come to this lonely region, discover their farm and read it like hieroglyphics on the wall, stories from another time. He would look at Noah's stack of books and think, What a discovery. What a thing to behold.

Danielle sat very still, as was her default setting. But she was also picking at her thumbnail, compulsively. She was not wearing her prayer kapp anymore. She still had her hair braided tightly to her head, but she had taken off her kapp. Noah knew some things about Amish by then, and he knew the different types of kapps and bonnets and their meanings. Usually, when she was away from home she would wear a black bonnet over her white kapp, because she was unmarried. But she didn't have the black bonnet today, only the white kapp, and she had only ever removed her head covering in front of him one other time that Noah could remember, and it was when they were thirteen years old and it had been so hot, they ran through the sprinkler and she took off the kapp for just one moment while she fixed her braids.

"What's wrong?" said Noah. He was deciding between The Road and Blood Meridian. He chose The Road, stuffed it in his backpack.

"Nothing," said Danielle. She had followed him up there without him knowing. She was quiet as a mouse. When she appeared, he was surprised, but it was okay. He didn't feel like being alone.

"Why are you biting your nails."

"I was just having a bad thought," she said. "You know. How it's over. Our lives, as we knew them once, they are over. My mom, and your dad. The land we knew and that raised us. All of it, gone, and now we too must be gone."

The way she talked sometimes, with her formal words and slight accent, it was foreign to Noah in a mythical way. "Yeah," said Noah.

She got up then, from the bean bag chair. She looked around. She picked up some of the books to read the summary on the back, then she set them back down again.

"Anything you want, you can have," he said. "Take whatever."

"Like what would I take?"

"Any of my books. I have a lot of comics inside, too."

She found this to be funny for some reason, smiled with her cheeks getting red. "Ha ha."

"What's funny?"

"Where are your guitars?" she said then, out of nowhere, like she was suddenly taken off guard. "I haven't been up here in a while. Where'd they go?"

"I burned them," said Noah, staring at her.

She gave him a long, disappointed look and shook her head. "All of them?"

"Yes."

"You shouldn't have did that, Noah."

Sometimes, he felt legitimately like a crazy person, like an imposter. Perhaps he would have been better off on his own. "I know," he said.

She came and sat down beside him then. He had to move over to give her room. The bean bag chair crinkled beneath them and molded around their bodies. She turned to him. She looked right at him. She framed his face with her palms, touching them to his cheeks. Her hands were cold. "I'm eighteen now," she said.

"I know," said Noah. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

"Don't worry," she said. "I just, I have hope that my family and my life will find a new hope, do you?"

"I guess," said Noah.

"I'm going to miss you though," said Danielle. "So much. You can't know. You and your guitars. You gave me a good escape place, all my life, and you and your family were always so important to us."

"I'll miss you, too," he said, shrugging. He felt he had little left to give her. "I'm sorry about everything, Danielle. Everything sucks."

"It does," she continued. "But also, there is one thing that doesn't suck, which is I can make a choice, right now."

"Which choice?" said Noah.

She kissed him. It was simple and warm. She was like a shepherd, guiding him in. When they parted, she looked sad. This was not the first time they had kissed, but it had been a long time. A flood had come between them. It drowned much more than the hills.

"Why did you do that?" he said.

"Because I wanted to," she said. "I'm sorry. I should have asked first."

"It's okay," he said. He tucked one small, loose strand of yellow hair behind her ear. In truth, it had made him happy. For just one moment, it lifted him out of the dirt.

She looked out the window. She folded her hands in her lap demurely. She had freckles on her knuckles and her wrists. She smelled like clean laundry. Being close to her, it made him want more, but it would never happen, nor should it happen, and this he knew, so he put his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes.

"What was that song you played again, that one time?" said Danielle. "Like two years ago, when we were out here, and it was like, almost fall, just like this? I remember it was getting colder, but the frost still had not come. Take me over?”

"Take On Me," said Noah. "It was just some live version off one of my dad's records. MTV Unplugged or something."

"What's MTV Unplugged?"

"I don't know," said Noah. "Something from a million years ago. Joel probably knows. We could go inside and listen to it, if you want. You could ask him."

"Okay," she said, smiling. "Let's do that."

Inside, Cici had gone upstairs, to bed. Joel was sitting on the couch alone, drinking whiskey, and listening to more Ryan Adams on the record player. When Noah and Danielle first came inside, Noah was sort of embarrassed. He didn't know why. But Joel didn't make any sort of fuss about them. He didn't call attention, nor did he ask questions. He said hello to Danielle and told Noah he would get out of his hair.

"It's okay," said Noah. "We were just gonna listen to music anyway."

"What is this?" said Danielle. She had reassembled her kapp, on her head. She was only comfortable removing it around Noah. "This is a sad song."

"It's a song called Sylvia Plath," said Joel. "This album was released the day before my 17th birthday."

"Wow," said Danielle. "It must mean a lot to you."

"Well, I haven't heard it in a while," said Joel. "But hearing it again, now, yes it does bring me back."

"Do you know what MTV Unplugged is?" said Danielle.

Joel looked at Noah, who was looking down at his boots. He had his backpack over one shoulder, looking a little lost, a wanderer. Joel set down his whiskey, listening to the song. He said, "MTV Unplugged was on TV, a lot of years ago. Why you asking?"

"Noah knows a song. He played it once, on his guitar, from MTV Unplugged."

"His guitar?"

"Yes," said Danielle. She became embarrassed then, like she had done something wrong. She looked at Noah and then she looked down at her hands, folded into the front of her dress. Noah was looking off somewhere else, flexing his jaw. Something seemed to be going on, something that Joel wasn't privy to. Didn't matter.

"Well, okay," said Joel, ignoring the tension in the room. "You, uh, familiar with TV, Danielle?"

"Yes," said Danielle. "Noah has told me about it."

"Well, MTV Unplugged was just like, live studio recordings of musicians that were popular at the time. A live studio recording meant like, it was unproduced. Or, I don't know. They just played their instruments in a room, in front of people. No multiple takes, no effects or anything like that. Real stripped down. There were some pretty important recordings, back in those days. Some artists, it was a huge deal for them to get on MTV Unplugged."

"Thanks," said Danielle. "I suppose that makes sense?"

"Maybe," said Joel. “I don’t know what makes sense anymore.”

"You guys are up?" said Ellie. She was yawning, coming down the stairs in her PJs. "What the hell?"

"Don't worry," said Joel. "You didn't miss anything. And I was just about to head up myself."

"What are we listening to?" she said, totally ignoring him. She came into the living room and picked up the vinyl sleeve off the coffee table. "Ryan Adams. Gold. You sure like this guy, don't you, Joel?"

Joel sighed.

"Who's Sylvia Plath?"

"What am I, an encyclopedia?”

"Yes, actually," she said, plopping down on the couch next to him. She picked up his glass, sniffed it, and made a face. "Yuck."

"Sylvia Plath was a poet, right?" said Noah. "Didn't she kill herself?"

"She was a poet, yes," said Joel. "And yes, she did...commit suicide."

"Jesus," said Ellie, sinking into the cushions. She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. "That's sad."

"Why did she take her own life?" said Danielle.

"I don't know," said Joel, resigned to his cause now, and outnumbered. "I guess she was unhappy. Or something. She had a rough marriage? Major depression. Ryan Adams, he had a lot of depression, too. Maybe he wrote this song to cope with all that."

"Music is a gift," said Danielle. "To think that his means of coping could become a song as beautiful as this. Perhaps it is a curse."

They all sat, staring at the record player. Joel got up and took the needle off the record. "Time for bed," he said.

"Come on," said Ellie. "I just got down here."

"Well, that was a mistake," said Joel. "Everybody, to bed. It's late."

With his sleeping bag unrolled in the living room that night, and the lamps turned down low, Noah listened to the song Sylvia Plath on repeat and thought about his life and all that had taken place, from the moment he realized he was alive, up to now, sitting alone on the floor in his living room in front of the fire, imagining himself in another scenario, far away in time and space, in which things were normal, or better, or safe. He envied Joel, in a way. Noah didn't know a better life, and he never would. That is how he felt, and what was meant by his sadness in the crow's nest. That is how he had been feeling for over a year, since his dad died, and the people he knew were all gone, and there were no more delusions, no more pastoral dreams where he could ignore the dying world in which he was born. He was now grown and he would have to go straight to it, make it his own. And Danielle would be okay, because she was not the same as him. She was bright and free and she trusted in god to carry her home, and whether that was bullshit or not, it didn't matter. People believe in the thing that they think will save them. Noah just didn't know what to believe. He was doing his best to follow his heart.

And she and I would sleep on a boat And swim in the sea without clothes With rain falling fast on the sea While she was swimming away, she'd be winking at me Telling me it would all be okay Out on the horizon and fading away And I'd swim to the boat and I'd laugh

Ellie came back downstairs a couple minutes later, wired and unable to sleep. When he looked out the window, the moon had finally revealed itself from behind the clouds. It was big and white and full. At first Ellie just said hello and then she was walking around the room, looking at all the different things on the shelves and hanging on the walls, like she was in a museum. She was looking at the paintings, most of them unframed. She said, "Did your dad make these? They're all signed with a W. His name was William, right?"

"Yeah," said Noah. "His name was William, and yeah, he painted all those."

"Wow," said Ellie. "He was really good. These are amazing."

The paintings were mostly landscapes and livestock. There were some of Cici, some of Noah, but they were like, impressions. They were blurred into the background, just blinks of color against the green. "What's your last name?" said Noah. "I was just wondering."

"My last name?" said Ellie. She smiled. She said, "Uh, Williams, I guess. Weirdly enough. That's the second time someone's asked me that in the past like, day." She came and sat down on the floor next to him, resting her elbows on her knees. "What's yours?"

"Santos," said Noah.

"Noah Santos," said Ellie. She looked down at her thumbs. She was sticking them both up for some reason, pressing her knuckles together. "So, uh. What's up with you and Danielle, Noah Santos? You guys a thing or something?"

"Not really," said Noah. He looked directly at her. His eyes were kind of dark and big, but they weren't as dark up close as they looked from far away. "Not anymore. We're just friends.” He took a huge, deep breath then, and Ellie could tell there was a lot more but that he just didn't feel like talking about it.

"Well," she said. "Friends are pretty great, too."

"Yeah, they're okay," said Noah.

They both smiled.

"I had a friend once," she said. "A long time ago. Her name was Riley."

”How’d you guys meet?”

”School. Or, jail. Whatever you wanna call it.”

"Where's Riley now?" said Noah.

Ellie looked at the fire, big and bright, like a carousel. "It's a long story. But she's gone."

Noah hung his head and looked down at the woodgrain in the floor. He said, "I'm sorry. I'm a dick."

"It's okay," said Ellie, nodding to herself, trying to be peppy. She didn't want to be sad that night. She wanted to be positive, and alert. Joel and Noah were back. They were heading out soon, on the road again. There was hope. “You're not a dick. And it’s all gonna be okay, don’t you think?”

"I hope so," he said.

Ellie’s optimism was contagious, and perhaps that’s why she felt like home to so many who lie awake in the night, thinking more about the past than the future. She lived close to the edge of her worth, it's true. She wanted to believe that there was a reason, for all of this. That there was a purpose, a meaning, behind why she kept on living while all the other people she cared about died. Riley, Tess, Henry, Sam. But she hid volumes. She did it all to help her friends stay afloat. But it wouldn't last forever. She was only one girl.

When they drove away from the farm, they did not want. The wind shook the trees, which were turning colors in the late September light. Danielle waved at Noah, standing between her father and her brother on the lawn.

It was two trucks to Moline, Joel and Ellie out front, headed for the I-80. "Here goes nothing," said Cici. She was driving, stone-faced. It was done. They had lost this place long before. It belonged to the dead now. She took Noah's hand as they escaped.

***

On the record player:

“Sylvia Plath” by Ryan Adams

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #joel miller #ellie williams #joel tlou #ellie tlou #as you were #joel x cici #update!!!!

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jaehyun-eclipsed · 4 years

Text

Before I Met You | Seventeen

Updates: Sundays

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Author’s Note: Hi! Thank you so much for reading this far! This is definitely a long read so I am very grateful for your patience and willingness to continue following along with me. With this being the last chapter for Jaemin’s story, Johnny’s story should be starting next Sunday. However, I have a few things going on in the next couple weeks and so Johnny’s story will begin on 8/16. Additionally, if you have any feedback - what you like, what could be improved, etc. - please let me know! I am looking to make this story better! But anyway, without further ado, please enjoy the final installment of Jaemin’s story.

Before I Met You Masterlist

Prev | Next

“He just went downstairs. Should I do it?”

The hallway window on the other side of the house can be seen from my room. I watch Jaemin’s figure as he rounds the corner and heads downstairs towards the kitchen.

“It’s up to you,” my dad responds.

“Okay, I’ll call you back.”

I hang up the phone and grab my nearly full water bottle to go down to the kitchen. Booming thunder makes me jump as I grab the doorknob. The sky is gray – gloomy from the intermittent rain all Sunday morning. My heart begins pounding.

Come on, Y/N, it’s going to be fine. It’s just a question. You’re not even asking him out. You just want to find out how he feels… And if it goes well, THEN maybe we’ll ask him out.

Jaemin is filling up his water bottle. He’s wearing an over-sized t-shirt and basketball shorts and his hair looks a bit disheveled as if he woke up not too long ago. He obviously didn’t have any plans to go out today.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

His gaze drops down to my lower body, scanning up and down my legs. My body freezes halfway to the water dispenser, breath hitching in my throat as I open my mouth to say something. The seconds have slowed down. The individual drops from the occasionally leaky kitchen faucet splash against the sink. The turning of textbook pages echoes from the dining room. My mouth has gone dry.

Do it.

“I think we should do it this way,” Jia says from the neighboring room.

Never mind, don’t do it.

Jaemin looks right past me and walks away without another word.

I let out a sigh of relief and take a large gulp of water, mentally kicking myself for being such a wimp.

Well so much for that.

“You chickened out,” Dad says immediately upon answering my second call.

“I can’t… I can’t do it,” I say in between laughs. “I couldn’t do it! And also, Jia is downstairs!”

To my surprise, he imitates how the brief exchange occurred exactly.

“Yeah, that’s basically what happened! I said, ‘hi!’ and then I felt my heart pounding in my chest and thought, ‘Just say hey and ask him.’ Then I thought, ‘No! Don’t do it!’” I continue nervously laughing. “This must be terrifying for guys!” I exclaim.

“Yes. That’s why a lot of these things happen. They intend to do it, but fear overcomes them,” he responds.

“Okay, we’ll have to try again later. I thought about going outside to ask him, but he doesn’t have his keys…”

“And be in the rain?”

I pause for a moment. “That sounds so dramatic, but yeah! If he doesn’t have his keys and something goes badly, and I leave first, he’s going to get locked out. Then I’ll have to go out and say, ‘Sorry, didn’t mean for you to get locked out.’”

“Right. ‘Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to lock you out just because you said ‘no,’” he says sarcastically.

“Exactly! Now I’m thinking about how Lucas did it because he was probably like, ‘One, two, three, go!’”

“Right, but he didn’t have to say anything.”

“True, but it still could have been a rejection.”

“That’s true, but it’s still a little bit easier.”

All Lucas had to do was see how I reacted to him taking my hand. Granted, it would’ve been a little bit more difficult for me to turn him down given that grabbing my hand didn’t exactly give me too many options unless I wanted to cause a scene.

A flash of lightning adds a brief hint of silvery blue to the gray sky. Within a few seconds, rain starts pelting against the window.

“It’s raining again,” I eventually remark. “There aren’t many people around, it seems.”

“It seems like it would be a good day to do it then. Few people are around.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his room by himself. Do you think this is a good idea?”

“It’s up to you.”

“I honestly have nothing to lose.”

“You’re right. You don’t.”

“And if I don’t ask, then I lose out on ever knowing.”

“Okay, I’m going to get off the phone so that I don’t influence you either way.”

“Wait!”

“Bye!”

“Wait, I –”

Great, now what do I do? I should just do it. This is ridiculous.

I begin pacing throughout my room and bathroom, occasionally looking in the mirror to repeat words of encouragement to myself.

“You can do this.”

No, you can’t. You can’t do this.

Oh my God, yes, you can! This is dumb, Y/N. You have nothing to lose.

Yes, you do. You guys are decent friends now. If you do this and he says ‘no,’ he might not talk to you anymore.

Oh, who cares? He’s probably moving into an apartment. It’s not like we’re going to talk much next year anyway. I may not even see him.

I look at the clock as a wave of nausea washes over me. It’s fifteen minutes past two.

“Okay, you’re going to do it in five minutes.”

Oh my God, what are you doing?

My breathing increases until I start to hyperventilate. A jumble of panicked and incomplete thoughts runs through my head, quickly jumping from optimism to pessimism in the same sentence. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. He’s going to say – don’t worry about that – maybe he wo – he’s going to say “no.” My heart races and I run into the bathroom, opening the toilet seat as I fear I might actually throw up.

Holy shit. I didn’t realize that people were actually serious when they say that they’re so nervous they could throw up. They didn’t make that up.

In a surprising moment of clarity, my facial expression changes to one of displeasure as I am feeling slightly scornful of my behavior.

What are you freaking out about? It’s nothing.

“Forget it,” I mumble to myself.

I open the door and begin making confident strides towards Jaemin’s room. The soft strumming of a guitar makes me feel somewhat at ease. Okay, he’s not busy. He’s playing the guitar so he’s probably relaxed. Taking a deep breath, I lift my hand and just as my fist is about to come into contact with his door...

Ha! Nope!

I’m light on my toes as I run back to my room. I press my back against my door and slowly slide down until I’m sitting on the floor, huffing as I chastise myself for being so scared.

“Holy shit. Why are you such a chicken?” I say between gritted teeth.

I resume the nervous pacing and mental swearing of how ridiculous the whole situation is. You’ve been preparing for this for two weeks! You’re not even asking him out! You’re just asking him what’s going on! A disappointed sigh escapes my lips as I think back to being so ready to do this and now that it’s finally time, I am chickening out. But in the back of my mind, I know that I’ll really kick myself this summer if I don’t do it. Jaemin and I don’t text as casual friends so the likelihood that we would text during the summer is basically zero.

I want to know.

I have to know.

I need an ending.

But what if he says ‘no’?

Who cares if he says, ‘no’? Frankly, I don’t really care what the answer is. Obviously it would be better if he says ‘yes’, but if he says ‘no,’ at least I’ll know. It will be over and I can move on with my life. He’s probably going to say ‘no’ anyway.

The thoughts become a bit more demeaning and I begin picturing a pro wrestler screaming profanities at me in an attempt to use reverse psychology to get me to do something.

Y/N, stop being such a wuss. You’re not weak.

Fuck it.

For the umpteenth time, I open my door and march down the hall. With one last deep breath, I gently knock on the door three times. The sound of the guitar suddenly stops and I wait.

And wait.

What the fuck?

There’s a small voice, almost like someone is saying, “Hello?”

Did he just say, “hello?” to someone possibly knocking on his door? Jaemin, do you expect people to shout through the door? Can’t you just get up and open it?

I cross my arms and frown when I hear the guitar starting up again.

Dude, what the hell? I know you heard me knocking!

Suddenly, the nervousness that so desperately wanted to initiate my flight response has been replaced with annoyance. Perhaps the annoyance is still out of nervousness, but I digress. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy and I had to work up a lot of courage to do it. However, I did not expect to have this obstacle – which is really more of a logistical obstacle than a practical one.

I knock again.

After another moment, someone begins fumbling around inside and the door is cracked open, revealing a confused Jaemin.

Finally.

“Uh, hi,” he says.

I forgo the greeting and look at him blankly.

“Did you knock twice?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“I said ‘hello’ like three times.”

What the hell? Who does that?

“Oh, well I didn’t hear you,” I say.

I ball my hand into a fist, pressing my nails into the flesh to help distract me from my nervousness. “Are you alone?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah…” he responds slowly.

I press my lips together. “I need to ask you something.”

“Okay…” he says, waiting expectantly.

“Can I come in for a second?”

“Sure.”

He pulls open the door and I step inside, reaching behind my back with an arm to grab the doorknob and step backwards to use my entire body to push the door closed.

Their room is a mess. A dirty knife balanced on top of an open peanut butter jar, clothes strewn over the bed posts, unmade beds – it’s definitely a boys’ room.

“Um…” I shift my gaze to the floor, knowing he’s watching me, anticipating what I’m going to say – likely something about me confessing my love for him.

I sigh and swallow my fear.

“So…” I begin, “Have we just been dancing around in circles or… do you actually want to dance with me?”

He looks blankly at me. “What…?”

Jesus.

“Uh – I – I –”

God, I have to clarify?!

I try to rephrase the question without directly mentioning what I’m really trying to ask. Ha. I guess I’m the one dancing around now.

“Have we just been dancing around the issue or…?”

“Um… what are you asking exactly?” he asks, his forehead creasing.

Shit. Do I have to straight up ask you if you like me? I don’t wanna do that. How do you not understand my question?

“Do you not understand my question?” I ask.

That was a stupid question.

“No, like… dancing…? What do you mean?” he asks.

“It’s metaphorical,” I remark.

Seriously, Y/N? “It’s metaphorical?” That’s what you tell him?

“For what?”

For what? What do you mean “for what?” Jaemin, I know you’re not this stupid. You might be slow, but you’re not stupid.

I sigh again. “Um… I don’t know what’s been going on for the past –”

“Oh!” His eyes widen as if he’s suddenly come to the realization of what I’ve been trying to ask. “I thought we were just friends at that point…” he says slowly. “I’m just a friendly person…”

The fuck?

“Oh.” My mouth is agape, trying to process what he just said. “Okay…”

“Yeah, I’m just a friendly guy. So feel free to be friendly…” he says, making nervous hand gestures to the air.

I feel like I was just hit with a brick. You were just being “friendly,” huh? You really might want to rethink what the definition of “friendly” is.

“Okay, I just needed to know,” I say, my tone level due to shock and inability to comprehend the present scene.

“Okay, yeah, that’s cool.” He presses his lips together and nods to himself a few times. “So I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I say as I grab the door handle and smile with a slightly embarrassed look on my face.

“It’s okay.”

My back slams against my door with a loud thud and my heart is still pounding from the residual adrenaline. I run my hands over my face and let out a loud sigh.

“I can’t believe I just did that.”

My mind begins replaying the scene over and over again – Jaemin’s facial expressions, his weird hand gestures to defend his stance, his relative calmness despite my clear interrogation. The word “friendly” plays like a broken record.

Friendly? No one does that when they’re just being “friendly.” Jaemin, do I have to throw a dictionary at your head? Friendly means affable... cordial… genial… NICE. Friendly does not mean flirting. Friendly does not mean making sexual innuendos and holding a girl from behind to help her shoot pool. Actually, you work in C++, don’t you, Jaemin? I can put it in code for you!

Friendly == being nice, giving me a stamp to mail a letter that one time because I didn’t have one

Friendly != flirting, thigh touching, anything Jaemin does

There! No, that is obviously not how you write code – because I don’t know how to write code – but I know the equality operators so you should too!

There are a couple things that I am fairly confident of now. First, Jaemin now realizes that I thought that he liked me. And second, even though I didn’t explicitly say anything, he knows I like him. So there goes my dignity.

But both of those things should have been known by him months ago – given his character. He’s smart, quick-witted, and very observant. Or at least, he’s supposed to be – though I’m guessing he was just playing stupid. There’s no way he didn’t know he was flirting.

I send a 911 text to Mark and within five minutes, he’s calling me.

“He said what?!” Mark exclaims.

“He said, ‘I thought we were just friends at that point… I was just being friendly because I’m a friendly guy… So feel free to be friendly.’ And then he did this weird thing with his hands, like pushing them out like he was presenting something.”

“Yo! Why does he sound so defensive? He keeps repeating himself. ‘I was just being friendly.’ ‘I’m a friendly guy.’”

“That didn’t even occur to me. But you’re right. He used that word like four times within twenty seconds.”

“I knew this guy was trash! But he’s totally lying to you.”

The answer doesn’t make any logical sense. It explains absolutely nothing. It can’t explain any of the behavior – staring, offering physics help, asking me for physics help when I’m the one who needs it, teaching me how to play pool, Jeno’s teasing when I was around...

“Because if it were me,” Mark continues, “and I didn’t actually like you, I wouldn’t say it like that. I’d probably say something like, ‘I’m so sorry if my actions came off that way, but I don’t like you like that.’”

Mark makes a good point and it irks me more than I realized. I didn’t get a straightforward “no.” Obviously I can infer what “just being friendly” means. It means “no.” But why can’t you just say that? If I had received a straight “no,” it still wouldn’t have made any sense and I’d still agree with Mark and think Jaemin was lying. But at least it wouldn’t be an even more confusing excuse.

“But I also wouldn’t be trying to touch you and make dirty jokes either… ‘cause that’d be weird if I didn’t like you.”

I chuckle. “Thank you, Mark. I know I can always count on you to provide some logic.”

“Anytime.”

“I think you’re right though… I don’t believe him either. His answer doesn’t line up with his actions.”

“I’m sorry that happened, Y/N. Are you okay though?”

It’s funny. I was so busy trying to do a bunch of mental gymnastics to figure out the Jaemin puzzle that I hadn’t even thought about my own feelings.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Technically, I got rejected, but I’m not devastated or anything. I guess I’m just irritated and confused. It’s like when you’re doing a jigsaw puzzle and you have one more piece, but you happened to get one of the defective puzzles so the last piece doesn’t fit.”

“Yeah… I just wanted to check. I know you’re not that outwardly emotional, but I know that doesn’t mean you don’t experience them. But still, I’d be mad if I were you.”

“Well, if there was any possibility of Jaemin and me remaining friends during the rest of college, I think I just threw that out the window,” I say with a nervous laugh.

“He doesn’t deserve your friendship anyway,” Mark responds bitterly. “Didn’t you say that Jeno defended you or something?”

“Um, I could only assume he was.”

“Do you think that Jeno might like you?”

Jeno’s voice rings through my ears. From the time he sounded like he confronted Jaemin to that warning when I was writing a letter in the next room.

“Are you just leading her on? She’s a nice girl, Jaemin.”

“You know that she’s right over there, right?”

“It – it crossed my mind, but I didn’t really consider it too seriously.”

“Why else would he bother defending you if he didn’t?”

“Because he disagrees with his roommate’s sense of morality?” I ask half-sarcastically.

“Ha!” Mark begins laughing. “You really think he thinks about that?”

“Hey! I think about that kind of stuff!”

“Yeah, but most people aren’t you, Y/N! And you still chose to hang out with the guy even though you knew he had a girlfriend.”

I put my hands up in defense even though Mark can’t see me. “In my defense, I was not the one doing anything.”

“My point is, it’s an iffy line. But anyway, that would also explain the staring. Maybe he likes you, but he knows you and Jaemin like each other, so he’s not going to do anything. But if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have said any that stuff anyway.”

Jeno’s purpose for staring at me was still a mystery. My instinct was telling me that Mark might be right, but I’ll never find out.

Well, I suppose I could ask Jeno, but I’m not about to put myself through that again.

It’s times like these where I wish I could read minds. I want to know what both of them have been thinking. But I know one thing for sure: Jaemin won’t be forgetting me any time soon.

I just hope I don’t get written off as a psychopath like Jisu. While I didn’t sit outside his room to wait to talk to him, what I did wasn’t exactly any better. Granted, I’m not his ex.

“Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I misread his –”

“No, no, I’m cutting you off right there,” Mark interjects. “There’s no way you misread any of that. And didn’t he like you before you had any real interest in him? You only started to like him because of what he was doing.”

“Hm, you’re right. I didn’t have any feelings at the beginning. Nothing to cloud my mind.”

“Trust yourself, Y/N. I know your intuition is top notch.”

For the next few days, I was wracking my brain, going over the problem many times from many different perspectives to see if any of them could make a logical and coherent story. Unfortunately, they didn’t. I hadn’t run into Jaemin since my little confrontation, but I also hadn’t been spending as much time downstairs studying, choosing to stay in my room at night.

Jaemin was actively avoiding me. I’d seen him on the edge of campus a couple times and each time, he’d realize I was there and walk to the next block to cross the street instead. My best guess is that he’s embarrassed, which is understandable. There’s no doubt that any future interaction with him is going to be awkward. I certainly feel awkward at the prospect of even having to say hi to him, but surprisingly, my dignity is pretty intact.

As soon as Jaemin gave me his answer, I just dropped him. I stopped trying to listen in on his conversations. I stopped trying to be in places where he would conveniently see me. I just stopped because there was no reason to put in anymore effort. He gave me his answer and even though it didn’t make any sense, that was that. There was nothing else left to do. It was done.

After a week of evading every possible chance to run into me, Jaemin started waving to greet me again. He wouldn’t come up to talk to me, but he wasn’t going out of his way to avoid me either.

Finals were approaching and I returned to my normal spot in the dining room. And just when I thought I could live my life peacefully with the bare minimum for interacting, Jaemin decides to throw in another wrench.

Jaemin is talking to one of the other residents when I walk into the kitchen to get some water. He looks at me and waves. I offer him a polite nod in return.

“Did you watch?”

I jump in surprise upon realizing Jaemin is talking to me.

Watch? Watch what? Oh… He’s talking about The Flash.

“Oh. No, I haven’t.”

“You find out his secret identity.”

“Oh! Who is it?”

“I’m not going to tell you!”

“Fine, I’ll just go online and read about it.”

“What the…?” he says in disbelief.

“I gotta study for chemistry! Barry can wait!”

He exchanges a few more words with the other resident and then walks over to me. “You have to watch the episode. It’s the best one of the season!”

Oh so we’re cool now? And you’re just going to act like nothing happened?

“I’ll see about checking it out later. I gotta finish up some things first.”

He nods in agreement and before stepping out of the room he says, “Yeah, me too. But let me know when you watch it. I wanna know what you think!”

There’s a weird expression on my face as I watch him leave. I knew we weren’t going to be friends and honestly, if he decided never to talk to me ever again, I probably wouldn’t have cared. Leaving it at a polite wave would’ve been fine! In fact, saying nothing is much easier! And now he wants to act like nothing happened and essentially gave me an invitation to start up another conversation with him. Jaemin! Make up your mind!

I stand alone in my room; it’s bare, with the exception of the provided furnishings. Jia had moved out a day earlier after finishing her finals. A nostalgic sigh falls from my lips as I reflect on the year. Despite it not having the ending I wanted, it was good. I had started to feel a little more comfortable being away from home, classes were better, I made more friends, and to top it all off, I was a lot more confident than I thought.

After checking for any last items, I slowly close my door for the final time of my sophomore year. A small smile creeps onto my face as I walk down the hall, still grateful for the experiences I had in this house. At the very least, Jaemin’s story will be a good one for the books.

Right as I walk by Jaemin’s room, the door flies open and Jaemin is standing there in the doorway. I casually greet him and continue on my way to my car. He returns my greeting and I hear him shut his door and start to follow me down the stairs.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I look up at the ceiling and roll my eyes.

Whoever you are up there, what are you doing? What kind of fucking timing is this?

In an effort to break the very likely awkward silence as we walk down the stairs, I decide to say something of no consequence.

“You have a final?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Yeah,” he responds. “Are you finished with finals?”

“Yeah, I’m actually moving out right now.”

“Oh, are you going home?”

“No, I’m going home on Sunday.”

“Oh, so where are you moving to?”

And you care… why?

“Uh…” I hesitate. “Do you mean next year?”

“No, where are you moving into now?”

“Oh! I’m going to a relative’s house right now.”

“Oh okay.” He turns to head in the other direction, but looks over his shoulder and offers a small smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Seriously? I wasn’t going to say anything to you before leaving and just my luck, we walk out together.

I had waited and planned in order to get my defined ending so that I could finally stop. Except it wasn’t defined. It was the exact opposite and I didn’t really believe him. And as I watch him walk towards campus, I realize how bittersweet the ending actually is.

Jaemin was my last goodbye of my sophomore year.

Prev | Next

Before I Met You Masterlist Masterlist

#jung jaehyun #mark lee #na jaemin #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #wayv #superm #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct mark #nct lucas #lucas wong #wong yukhei #nct jaemin #before i met you

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tendertenebrosity · 4 years

Text

I should probably save this to post closer to Christmas, but I’m too impatient to sit on writing like that. It’s only tangentially relevant anyway.

These are my OCs from @wildfaewhump‘s Path verse!

Danny was out Christmas shopping, one Saturday when he was off work, when he saw it on a clearance table. Absently, he picked the thing up.

Carved wood wrapped in plastic, small enough for Danny to hold comfortably in one hand. Held in by the plastic were nine little tiles with raised designs on them, Xs and Os.

Noughts and crosses, he thought absently. Who the fuck needs a board to play noughts and crosses? He put it down, shaking his head. What a useless gift. Just get them a fucking pen and paper, here, instant noughts and crosses board!

Half an hour later, a thought struck him.

He doubled back to buy it.

When Danny entered the little break room at the courthouse, his Path sat in the rickety little chair, shoulders hunched as if he was staring at his lap, even though the blindfold was already in place. He had his arms folded with hands tucked fearfully behind his elbows, but Danny could still see them shaking. The sandwiches he’d left in here were untouched, as usual.

It had been another bad case. A violent one. TJ was always like this after those kinds of cases, sweating and pale, flinching from Danny’s hands and needing to be coaxed to drink water, to talk, to do anything other than sit and tremble. It was getting worse.

Danny lowered himself into the other chair. “Hey kid,” he said gruffly. “How are you holding up?”

TJ uncurled himself slightly, tipped his head up to where Danny was. Above the blindfold, Danny could see the little crease of pain between his eyebrows. “Um. F-f-fine.”

“Didn’t eat your sandwich.”

TJ shrank in the chair. “Sorry.” He sounded near tears.

Danny sat forward, one hand digging in the pocket of his jacket. “Here, kid, I’ve brought you something. Hands out.”

TJ obediently laid his hands on the table in front of him, palms up. Blotchy pale hands with little red crescents from his nails.

Danny pressed two wooden tiles into his fingers. “Feel this, kid. What’s it got on it? The raised bits.”

TJ tilted his head to one side, fingers closing tentatively over the tile. He turned it over, fingers rubbing over the surface. “I – there’s a circle,” he said, his voice wondering. “And the other one has... there’s… lines…?”

“Sure is, kid, it’s a cross. Can you tell the difference between them?”

“… yes?”

“Know how to play noughts and crosses?”

“… no?”

“Alright, I’ll show you. We’re gonna play a couple of games in between cases. Keep us from getting bored. Right?” Get your mind off whatever sick fuck’s thoughts you just had to wade through. Make you move about and talk.

TJ looked baffled around the blindfold, his fingers moving jerkily and hesitantly as Danny’s gloved hands pressed the board into them. But he sat forward and turned his attention to it, unquestioningly, willingly, the same way he did everything that Danny ever told him to do. Even things that he knew would hurt him.

Stop being so fucking morbid, Danny, it’s noughts and crosses, you’re not hurting him.

“That’s it, kid, you won!”

“I – I won?”

“Yeah, you did, you got me. Look, see?” Danny grimaced. Years of working with Paths and he still said things like that. Of course TJ couldn’t look, but the kid knew what he meant, right? “Three crosses, across the diagonal there.”

Danny watched as TJ’s bare fingers crept across the rows of tiles. A tiny, fragile smile tugged at the corner of the Path’s mouth.

“Oh. I, I guess I did!” He turned his blind face up to Danny. “That’s good, r-right?”

“Sure is,” Danny said, a grin splitting his own face. He sat back. The little table between them was littered with empty plastic from their sandwiches, and wooden tiles.

His phone vibrated and jingled with an alarm. He checked it, then shoved it back into the pocket. Time already.

Danny grabbed TJ’s wrists, gently pushed his hands back towards him across the table so Danny could sweep the tiles up. He’d been a little self-conscious about sneaking this cheap children’s toy into work, but it’d been worth it. “You did good, kid.”

TJ looked confused, but sat up a little straighter at the praise.

“Time to head back to work. We’ll see if you can beat me again tomorrow.”

#TJ and Danny #Path Verse #sympathetic captor #telepathic whumpee #comfort #my stuff #blindfolded

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unspokenfaith · 5 years

Text

I Love You Most

Chapter One: The Spirit That Dwells

Pairings: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge/Reggie Mantle, Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz, Kevin Keller/Fangs Fogarty, Sweet Pea/OC Rating: T (potentially M later on) Word Count: 3239 Prompt: Horror (Camp Riverdale) Summary: Veronica was hoping to have a relaxing weekend with her friends the summer before senior year. But with Betty and Jughead’s recent break-up, as well as the tension between Jughead and the other Serpents, she begins to think that it wasn’t the best idea, especially when there seems to be an unexpected visitor in the Lodges’ lake house.

AO3

A piercing scream echoes across the lake as the girl’s body hit the water. Her head resurfaces not a moment later and she squeals in delight. Loud. Innocent. Euphonic. The rush of the first jump. She waves her arms around, secured in pink floaties, to catch someone’s attention—the woman on the dock wearing sunglasses, a large sun hat, and an amused smile. She temporarily puts down her magazine to clap, much to the young girl’s satisfaction.

The girl beams, flashing her tiny teeth, before searching the shoreline anxiously. Waiting. Soon a man in a suit appeared, cell phone glued to his ear and eyes on his watch. He makes his way over to the woman in the hat, still chattering away. A work call, presumably. Even with her sunglasses on, it isn’t hard to decipher the woman’s annoyance. The way she crosses her arms, looking up at him like this isn’t the first time this has happened. Nor would it be the last. The girl’s eyes are wide, sad, as she waits impatiently for him to notice her victory.

After a while, the man disappears back into the house without so much as a word to either, and the girl hoists herself back up on to the dock, defeated. She wraps a towel around herself, clinging to it like it would protect her from embarrassment and neglect.

And as she combs her hands through her raven hair, glancing back at the house, it becomes abundantly clear that she is a girl—a special girl⁠—who craves love.

I hope I can give that to her someday.

**********

Veronica

“Remind me to check the app to see what your ghost’s name is,” Gwen said, her acrylic nails tapping on the screen of her phone. “If it’s friendly.”

Veronica smiled at Betty and Kevin in the rearview mirror. You only had to talk to Gwen for less than five minutes to know she was a paranormal fanatic. The Conjuring, Buzzfeed Unsolved, ghost stories or possession encounters of any kind—you name it. Veronica found it rather off-putting at first. It wasn’t exactly what she was expecting, working with a girl from school at Pop’s—let alone from Pop’s granddaughter—when they were serving burgers and milkshakes. But it soon became a welcome distraction from, well, anything else going on in Riverdale that wasn’t paranormal activity.

That’s why she knew when she invited Gwen to the lake house for the weekend, she wouldn’t refuse. Gwen couldn’t have said “yes” any faster.

Even though Veronica was Gwen’s only connection to the group attending, aside from maybe Betty and Kevin now, she had faith her co-worker would quickly get along with everyone else. She was easier to like than most.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up. There might not be any ghosts there at all,” Veronica said.

Gwen dropped her phone on her lap, giving her a look. “Uh, a lake house in the deep, dark woods in the middle of nowhere? There’s a ghost, okay?”

“I’d believe it,” Betty said. “Do you know who lived there before, V?”

“No idea, actually. Mom said something about a young couple once, but I don’t know how long ago that was,” Veronica explained. “I don’t want to shut down all the speculation, but I was kind of hoping this would just be a normal, relaxing weekend. You know, demonic-spirit-free and all.”

Betty leaned forward with her chin on Veronica’s seat, and whispered, “But what if it’s a nice spirit?”

“Thank you!” Gwen said, and Kevin laughed.

Veronica rolled her eyes, smiling, as she made the final turn and the lake house came into view. Two cars—Archie’s and Cheryl’s—and Jughead’s motorcycle were already parked in front. Apparently they were the last to arrive.

Gwen gasped loudly, rolling the window down to get a better look. “Holy shit, girl! You call that a cabin? There’s definitely a ghost in there.”

“Did I say it was a cabin?” Veronica teased.

“I don’t think her parents even know what a cabin is,” Kevin said.

She parked next to Archie’s truck just as he and Reggie emerged. Veronica smiled at the sight of her boyfriend, barely turning the car off before hopping out and running over and jumping on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Hey, you.” Reggie smiled, pecking her on the lips.

“Hi,” she said. “How was the drive? How’d you guys get here first, anyway?” She looked between Reggie and Archie, who was already hauling bags out of the back of the truck.

“Wow, someone’s in a hurry,” Veronica said.

Archie paused, wiping his forehead. “Hey, I’ll get yours too if you want.”

She smiled. “What a gentleman.”

Veronica could not have been more grateful that she and Archie were able to move past the awkward post-break-up-now-I’m-dating-your-friend-phase, if they even had one at all. They seemed to be on the same page—moving on, rekindling a friendship, being amicable about the whole thing. She wished the same could be said about others on the trip.

Jughead wandered over, noticeably eyeing Betty, who was helping Archie take bags out of Veronica’s car. She was Betty’s best friend, and even she didn’t know all the details that led to the break-up. Definitely having something to do with their mutual brother, Charles. Also definitely having something to do with the all the peace they’ve enjoyed over the past few months giving Betty a new perspective. What she did know was that it was a long time coming, and she never would’ve told Betty when they were still together, but she was never too fond of the pair anyway.

But Betty was fine, happy in fact, and that’s all Veronica really cared about.

“Need a hand there, guys?” Jughead asked.

Betty and Archie turned around, Archie glancing at her, trying to get a read on the situation. If Veronica thought she knew little, he must’ve really felt like he was in the dark.

“We’re fine, Jughead. Thanks,” Betty said, hauling out the last of the suitcases.

Kevin already found Fangs by Cheryl’s car, the pair sitting on the hood and holding hands. Sweet Pea scanned the woods, arms crossed, as though he were expecting something to jump out and attack. With everything that happened over the past couple of years, Veronica couldn’t really blame him.

Cheryl sighed, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. “I’m baking out here. Can we please go inside before I get skin cancer?”

“Did you forget to put sunscreen on, babe?” Toni asked.

“I didn’t forget. It was a conscious decision,” Cheryl replied. “My skin needs to breathe.” She folded her arms, looking at Veronica expectantly.

“What?” Veronica asked.

“Aren’t you going to let us in?”

“I told you there was a key under one of the pots.”

“Yeah, and we didn’t find one,” Cheryl said.

“Really? That’s weird. I thought my mom left one last time we were here.” Veronica lifted each of the pots by the front steps, finding Cheryl to be right—no key. She must’ve forgotten to put one there.

“Well, I brought one anyway.” She pulled the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open. “Okay, so make yourselves at home. There are four bedrooms upstairs, and the couch down here is a pull out, so there should be plenty of room for everyone.” She turned around to find Kevin and Gwen gaping, while Betty, Archie, and Jughead were already sitting down in the living room.

Cheryl came in, with a passive, “Kevin, Gwen,” as she walked between them. For whatever reason, that seemed to catch Sweet Pea’s attention.

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” he said to Gwen. “Gwen, right?”

Toni and Fangs looked at each other, smirking.

“Yeah…” Gwen studied him for a second. “Have I seen you somewhere? Like at Pop’s or something?”

Sweet Pea laughed. Laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been in a few times.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow at him. “And...your name?”

“Oh...right, yeah, I’m Sweet Pea.”

“Cool name.” She smiled.

“Okay, well, I’m bringing my stuff upstairs. I’ll be right back,” Veronica said, grabbing her bags.

Reggie started to follow her. “I’ll come with you.”

With Sweet Pea striking up a conversation with Gwen, Jughead casually whipping out his typewriter—the same one Betty got him, which seemed in poor taste—and everyone else either unpacking or deciding on sleeping arrangements, Veronica had a feeling it didn’t matter if they took their time.

“Was this a bad idea?” she asked, once they were at the top of the stairs.

Reggie frowned. “What happened to ‘this will be a nice break?’”

Veronica sighed, sitting down on her bed. “I know, but….Betty….Jughead...the Serpents...You can’t tell me you don’t think something could go wrong there.”

“So? Not our problem.” He sat down next to her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault Betty and Jughead broke up. And the Serpents can figure their own shit out. I’d say the only thing you did wrong was inviting Jughead. He seems to be the source of both problems.”

“Hey!” She hit his arm lightly. “I didn’t think he would actually come.”

“Yeah, why did he come?”

Veronica shrugged. “Beats me. So are you sleeping in here?”

“Depends. Am I invited?” Reggie smirked.

“Always,” she said. “You can put your stuff in that closet there if you want. Sorry it’s kind of a mess.”

She fell back on the bed, as Reggie got up to open the closet. He shuffled some things around to make room for his bag, then paused, laughing.

“What is so funny?” she demanded.

He poked his head out from the closet, grinning and holding two pink floaties. “These yours?”

“Yes…and? You never had those when you were learning how to swim?”

“Oh, sure, pretend like you don’t still use these.”

“Shut up!” Veronica grabbed a pillow and threw it at his head, but he was still laughing.

Reggie ceremoniously held out his arm, sliding one floaty on his arm, and then the other. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re finally ready to go swimming. Aww, Reggie, I’m so proud of you.”

“You are….”

“I am what?” She smiled teasingly.

He tackled her on to her back, and she screamed louder than she meant to, then fell into a fit of laughter as she tried to push Reggie off, but couldn’t seem to fight off the pink floaty arms. When he kissed her, she gave up completely, allowing him to move down to her neck.

As she closed her eyes, she heard the words, “I love you” come out of her mouth. She didn’t think she said it out loud, but she must’ve, because Reggie stopped and looked into her eyes.

“What did you just—”

The window closed with a loud thud, and they both jumped up. She took Reggie’s hand instinctively, and maybe because she was a tiny bit afraid.

Veronica didn’t remember opening the window in the first place.

**********

Betty

“What was that?” Betty asked, looking up at the stairs.

“Are you really asking that question, Betty?” Cheryl draped her legs across Toni’s lap. “If you want to go up there and interrupt them, then be my guest.”

“Gladly,” Jughead interjected, rolling his eyes. He was still clicking on his typewriter, and Betty still couldn’t decide if she was bothered that he brought it here, but it did make her wonder why he came at all.

Ever since they broke up, it became increasingly clear that Betty was Jughead’s only tie to everyone else. Even his friendship with Archie had fallen apart over the past couple of years. As he proclaimed almost every day, Jughead was a loner, and he seemed to like it that way. Maybe it was the constant thought of college, life after high school—the future—or maybe it was a simple matter of a difference in perspective—maybe both—but it only took Betty a month of solitude to realize he just wasn’t what she needed. Or wanted.

Betty thought she made a big mistake that night when he came over to her house—when Jughead stormed out and she couldn’t sleep when she spent hours crying into her pillow. She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she was throwing away something good.

Then a text from Archie popped up on her phone.

Hey, you ok? Your light is still on.

When she glanced over at the window, she realized it was still open. He heard her crying. Who knows what else he heard before that.

I’m fine.

Go to the window.

She did her best to wipe the tears off her face, but she was sure her eyes were still red. When she walked over to the window, she saw Archie holding a stuffed bear—the one she made for him in fifth grade. At the time she thought it was her proudest moment, but looking at it now, the button eyes lopsided on its face, and the fabric barely holding together, it looked more like something out of a horror film. She couldn’t believe he still had it.

Betty laughed, and even though she felt like a complete wreck, she slept soundly after that. She held onto that ever since.

“Can you turn that thing off?” Sweet Pea asked, referring to the loud clicking of the typewriter. He said what Betty was thinking.

“Sweet Pea, I’m trying to write a novel here. If it’s bothering you, just go somewhere else,” Jughead said, his eyes glued to the piece of paper slowly emerging.

“Why the hell did you even come if you’re just going to be all Edgar Allan Poe in the corner there?”

Jughead scoffed. “Poe was a poet, Sweet Pea. I’m a novelist.”

“Actually, not that this really matters, but he wrote stories, too,” Toni said. Next to her, Fangs laughed to himself.

Betty looked at Archie, who seemed to be just as amused as everyone else, and then he caught her eye. She couldn’t help but smile too.

“Okay!” Kevin stood up, clapping his hands together. “Why don’t we all play a game or something?”

“Ooh, good idea! Is there a Oujia board in here?” Gwen scanned the room eagerly.

“Uh, is that really a good idea?” Archie asked.

“Are you kidding? This is the perfect setting for it,” Kevin said, helping Gwen look in all the drawers and cabinets.

“Actually…” For the first time since arriving, Jughead stopped clicking and turned to face everyone. “This is probably the worst possible place you could play it. We’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere.”

“Who gives a fu—” But Sweet Pea was interrupted by Gwen.

“Look...Jughead, right? I don’t know what your deal is, but we’re just trying to have fun. If you don’t want to play, that’s fine. No one’s stopping you.”

Everyone stared at her. Sweet Pea’s eyes were especially wide. It was oddly refreshing to see someone—particularly someone who barely knew Jughead—put him in his place.

Jughead frowned, but said nothing as he resumed typing.

“Found it!” Kevin shouted, holding up the Ouija box.

“Yes! I’ll go get Veronica and Reggie,” Gwen said, running upstairs. She returned with the pair a minute later, both of them visibly disheveled. Veronica was fixing her hair while Reggie straightened his shirt. Betty gave Veronica a knowing smile.

“Is everyone playing?” Archie asked.

“Yeah, what’s wrong? Scared, Andrews?” Sweet Pea smirked.

“I mean, kind of. I’ve heard a lot of stories.”

“Your girlfriend can protect you,” Gwen said, eyeing Betty. Jughead stopped, shooting a look in Betty and Archie’s direction.

“Um, Gwen, we’re not…” Betty gestured between her and Archie.

“Yeah, it’s not…” Archie laughed nervously.

“Chill. It was a joke.” Gwen sat down on the floor and opened the game box. “Does someone want to turn the lights off?”

“Got it,” Fangs said, flipping the switch.

Betty hated the growing unease in her stomach.

“If we die, I’m killing all of you,” Cheryl said.

Gwen brushed the board off. “Damn this thing is old.”

“That adds to the vibe,” Kevin said, setting down the white planchette on the board. “Who wants to do the honors?”

“I will!” Gwen was a little too excited to talk to spirits. She placed her hand on the planchette, waiting.

Everyone leaned forward, staring at the board. Gwen’s hand stayed in the same place, not even budging the slightest.

Sweet Pea groaned. “What, are they asleep? Wake up, whatever your name is!”

“Shh!” Gwen reached back her other hand to Sweet Pea’s leg, which seemed to be enough to shut him up. “You don’t want to make them mad.”

For a split second, the chandelier hanging over the table flickered. Gwen’s hand started to move. Kevin grabbed a piece of paper and pen, watching.

“He….” Gwen began sounding it out.

“Spirit says ‘hello,’” Kevin said.

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “That’s it?”

“It’s moving again!” Fangs pointed at the board, and everyone was silent again.

This word—or sentence—was much longer, too long for Gwen to sound it out on her own. Betty already forgot what the first few letters were.

“Someone will…” Kevin kept scribbling.

“Oh, God….” Gwen’s face fell.

Kevin lowered the piece of paper, staring at the board wide-eyed.

“What did it say?” Archie asked, trying to peak over Kevin’s shoulder.

“Someone will die tonight,” Kevin said, eyes still glued to the board, as though he were waiting for the spirit to take it back.

Cheryl burst into laughter. “Seriously? ‘Someone will die tonight?’ How many times have they used that one?”

“Cheryl…” Toni placed her hand on her girlfriend’s arm.

“What? Toni, you don’t actually believe this thing, do you? It’s a game. A game that’s meant to scare people.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, guys…” Archie said. “‘Hello. Someone will die tonight?’ Sounds kind of automated.”

“Let’s just put the game away,” Betty said, sensing this was going to be blown out of proportion.

“You don’t want to know more?” Gwen asked. “Maybe they’re trying to warn us.”

“Or someone’s going to get killed by a demon tonight,” Kevin pointed out.

“Okay, this is ridiculous! I’m going upstairs.” Cheryl rose from the couch, and went upstairs without another word.

“Cheryl, come on!” Toni shouted, eventually following her.

Gwen said goodbye to the spirit and put the game away, much to her and Kevin’s disappointment.

“Well, that was fun while it lasted,” Sweet Pea said. “Goodnight...if I see you all in the morning.”

“Okay, that’s enough! No one is dying!” Veronica insisted, but judging by the alarm in her eyes, she probably didn’t even believe herself.

“Hey, not that I particularly give a damn, but where’s Jughead?” Fangs asked.

Betty turned around. The typewriter sat by itself on the table. She didn’t even realized the clicking had stopped. Jughead was nowhere in sight.

“He must’ve gone outside,” Archie said. “I’ll go see if he’s okay.”

“Wait!” Betty yelled, and he stopped in his tracks. She met him at the door. “I’ll come with you.”

For a moment Archie looked at her like he was going to protest, but then he nodded. “Okay.”

“We’ll be right back,” Betty informed everyone else.

She wouldn’t have been that concerned about going out to the woods in the middle of the night, but Veronica’s pleading look made her tense.

Betty tried not to think about the possibility that she and Archie could be longer than just a few minutes.

#riverdaleevents #campriverdale #riverdale fic #riverdale #my writing #mine #fic: I love you most #barchie fic #veggie fic #choni fic

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ivelostmyspectacles · 6 years

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My @thearcanasecretsanta gift for @the-eldritch-it-gay! I was, obviously, your Secret Santa! I really loved reading about Kyr??? I love him?? He’s perfect and I’ve enjoyed following all the new stuff you’ve posted about him 0w0

I cheated a little bit and wrote from Asra’s POV but it definitely involves Kyr. And Faust. And Ramiel. I hope you enjoy!! Thank you for participating and letting me get to create something with your great OC bless

Not once did he ever intend to fall asleep while poring over their books, but Asra rarely minded. A mountain of pillows, and Kyrahn asleep atop them, peaceful and unburdened without the aid of Asra’s own magic. His lips twitched into a frown, the barest expression of guilt he didn’t let himself show when his apprentice was near.

No, that wasn’t right. Kyrahn hadn’t been the apprentice for some time, here. He had long since outgrown that title, even before the first touch of shaking fingertips to temple. Kyrahn had had more magic than Asra could ever begin to understand for years, and he had had more secrets than Asra was willing to let him suffer through for just as long.

But like this, they didn’t need worry over it.

Kyrahn rarely slept so easily. His slumber was often disrupted with nightmares, mumblings in languages no one else in Vesuvia knew. Asra understood it all. Asra felt the pain of it all, even when the glazed look crossed Kyrahn’s eyes when he was forced to take action into his own hands, magic jumping to his fingers as he wiped the terror from Kyrahn’s mind and the tears from his face. So this was a treat. This was peaceful. If only they could have this more often.

Not to be, if he believed his cards and he believed their fates, but for the time, at least, they did have this. Asra cherished every moment; he had learned to do so long ago.

He’d learned to stop frowning as well. There was no point to dwelling. It only would upset Kyrahn to see him upset, so he refused to be in the face of his most cherished companion. He leaned over, sweeping his hand along Kyrahn’s hair. He was gorgeous, every inch of him, every forgotten memory and every scar. Asra would never be so lucky to have moments like this, after this. He wished… well, it didn’t do to wish. He had long since learned.

Kyrahn stirred beneath his touch and Asra froze, cursing his lonely fingers and wishing he would fall back asleep. No luck. He never had much of that, he thought wryly, as Kyrahn blinked up at him sleepily. But then he broke out into an equally sleepy smile, and Asra felt he could never be disappointed by that response.

“Asra,” Kyrahn said, but his eyes fluttered shut again, exhaustion or contentment. He trailed from words into signing, fingers clumsy from sleep but infinitely talented. Asra knew how very much so, the phantom image of magic flickering in the air and touches on his skin. I can feel you staring.

“Caught in the act.” Asra grinned, scratching his nails lightly against Kyrahn’s scalp. “Sorry to wake you.”

It’s okay. We were studying…

“Well,” Asra said, grabbing one of the largest, most luxurious pillows from the pile. “There’s plenty of time for that later.” A fist pummelled into it to plump it up, Kyrahn cracking an eye open to watch, and Asra dropped down onto it next to him.

Really?

“We can’t waste a perfectly good opportunity for a nap.”

Kyrahn huffed a laugh, even as a hand snuck out from tucked under his own side of the mountain of pillows to rest against Asra’s arm briefly. Didn’t we just wake up?

Had he? Asra wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been afforded happiness for a long time. None of them had, for so very long. A lifetime ago, even. Missing memories and different chapters in his life. In all of their lives. Lips pursed, he seized Kyrahn’s hand between both of his on a whim. Reflex, or instinct, and Asra wasn’t sure. He didn’t care. All that mattered, now, was the warmth of the body pressed against his and the quiet happiness life would permit them for the moment. A good moment. Had he woken up?

“I think I might still be dreaming.” He also said it without thinking.

Kyrahn’s confused look was warranted. Hand trapped, sandwiched between Asra’s, he parted his lips to speak. A raspy syllable, still caught on the edges of peaceful sleep. “What?”

He couldn’t explain. He wouldn’t if he could, anyway. “Nothing,” he said, and relinquished Kyrahn’s hand to slip his arm around his shoulders instead. But he was still looking at him, a little less asleep, and a little more curious. His head fell to one side in silent question. “Nothing, Kyr,” he repeated, a little more firmly but with a laugh. “Come over here, now.”

A pause, and Asra could hear the wheels turning in his apprentice’s head, but… no questions were forthcoming. Instead, Kyrahn shuffled over and curled up against Asra’s chest, and Asra sighed into his hair. He must still be dreaming. That was fine. In that case, he hoped he never woke up.

Happy. There was Faust’s voice, her weight slithering up his torso and over his arm. She settled over Kyrahn’s shoulder and looked back back at Asra, tongue flicking cheerfully.

“Yeah,” he said, and Kyrahn made a noise of agreement.

Ramiel was not to be outdone. Asra didn’t have time to prepare himself before the lizard came lumbering into their pillows and flopped atop him. Asra laughed even as he wheezed, nearly missing the little more sleep that came as explanation.

Kyrahn made another noise of agreement, and ducked his head against Asra’s chest.

“Yes,” Asra said, smoothing his hand along Ramiel’s skin in a small pat. Then he settled with nestling as close to Kyrahn as he could with their bed guests. “Everyone, go back to sleep.”

Sleep!

Sleep.

“Have to get up eventually,” Kyrahn mumbled, and Asra shook his head.

“For just a little longer,” he whispered, and pecked a kiss to the top of his head.

#thearcanasecretsanta #the-eldritch-it-gay #I feel like I'm getting repetitive saying 'I hope you like it!!!!' in my tags but #I worry about every single one of my SS partners liking what I created #because I stress about everything and I want to do everyone's OCs justice #so hopefully I did and you love the fluff #have a happy holiday my friend!!!

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gguksgalaxy · 7 years

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Sheltered pt. 1

Sheltered – Engraved <– Engraved 11 | <– Crowned 2 | Engraved 12 –> | Sheltered 2 –>

Short: Law student and intern Kim Jongin uses his charms for a dangerous pastime behind the screens, but he falls for the most normal girl. Words: 3080 Type: Angst/Fluff Pairing: Kai x Miyong (oc) Warnings: mentioning of an accident A/N: This will run chronologically with Engraved, but it’s not needed to read this to understand Engraved, but the parts posted for Engraved after this will contain spoilers. It is also not necessary to read Engraved to understand what is happening here. But it will make things more clear.

AFF link Engraved line AFF link Sheltered only

Kai pov

The office was in it’s usual bustling state of busy. Sounds of rustling paper, the copy machines, nails on keyboard filling his ears while he was going over his merger case. The two companies had a lot in common but their client was trying to get more out of the deal. He was searching through databases and e-mailing people to try and get the information he needed to let everything go as smoothly as possible. His booth was at the far corner of the room, and he had the wall on his left and the rest of the room on his right. He liked it, this way he could see everything. It wasn’t too big of a room, there were about 10 paralegals and interns in here. Everyone knew each other by now, much to his tries of keeping to himself. The people were nice and it was nice to be around them, sometimes they went out for a drink after work, or all got lunch together. The girl beside him leant over the booth, her head on her hands on the small wall. “What are you working on?” she asked, warm caramel curls falling over the edge and framing her face.

For a second he looked up a little shocked. “Oh, merger, nothing big.” She nodded and smiled. “You got a lot of work left?” He smiled back at her, for a second he had forgotten she was there, too caught up in his work. But she was always in the booth beside him. Her name was Miyong. “Nah, I’ll probably be done early tonight, really. I need to study for ethics anyway and Nigel said I could leave if I finish this and it’s okay.” He leant back in his chair, closing his eyes for a second. “I’m drained.” “How about we go for lunch?” she asked, cocking her head to one side. There was something so nice about the way she smiled, big brown eyes sparkling with excitement. She was a really nice girl, and they’ve been hanging out for a while now, but he hadn’t really done anything. For now they were just friends. But she was nice to be around, and she was open and sweet and calm. On the other hand she was a little childlike, like him, and when she talked about something she loved her voice sped up to a point where he could barely understand. “What are you thinking to get? You want to go sit somewhere?” he asked. She shook her head, curls bouncing. “I was thinking to get coffee and a bagel or something and then walk for a bit. It’s not that warm but the sun’s out. We can go to the park.” “Sure!” he said, and he wondered if he sounded a bit too excited then. Whether the smile on his face was a little too big. Whether she knew that he liked her this much. They got up and went to get their coats. He was wearing black pants and a simple white button up, she was wearing a grey skirt with a dark pink coloured turtleneck that framed her body perfectly but wasn’t too tight. Both of them wore long coats, her brown and his black. And they walked outside with their hands stuffed in their pockets, making sure to sign off at the secretary. Anna, the secretary smiled at them. She was probably over fifty but she was the nicest lady. One time, when Jongin had to work late she had brought him something to eat. “You love birds, so cute together.” She mused and winked at them. Jongin felt the warmth spread up his cheek and neck and he rubbed the back of his head. Miyong chuckled and pulled him outside. She walked with her arm linked through his, hands in her pockets to protect them from the cold. Miyong leant against him, shivering a little and he chuckled. “I thought you said it wasn’t that cold.” “No, I said the sun was shining, but we’re still in the shade.” She mumbled and walked a little faster. Her usual place to get coffee was just outside the park, she’d taken him once before, their coffee was really good. It was a small barista place hidden between the larger restaurants their terraces. They arrived pretty quickly and as soon as they left the tall building lined streets and the sun his their face he did feel it was warmer. He took in the feeling, and hoped spring would come soon. Sadly it was only just becoming winter and harsher times were to come. “Ah, I want to go to the park when there’s snow.” She said randomly as they entered, it was warmer inside and the fresh scent of coffee filled his senses. He loved the smell but for quite some time he didn’t like the taste. But now he liked it a lot better with sugar. “You still drink caramel macchiato?” he asked her as they stood in line. She nodded pulled her arm from his to reach into her bag, he touched her arm to stop her. “I’ll buy.” “No you won’t, this was my idea.” “Don’t even try.” He said. “I’m paying and that’s it.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll buy food then.” He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” A light chuckle left her lips as he ordered their coffees and paid. “What?” he asked. She shrugged. “Nothing really, you have a nice smile. You’re always really polite, I just don’t see it that often with guys like you.” He frowned at her, a little confused. “How do you mean?” They were waiting in the back until the barista had made their coffees and he looked down at her. She was quite a bit shorter than him, but it suited her. “Oh, just…” She blushed lightly. “You’re like really handsome, when I first saw you I thought you were some rich model kid or something. I expected you to be slightly arrogant or bratty. But you’re actually not.” She was the one to grab their cups when they were placed on the counter, and she thanked the girl who made them, wholeheartedly. Outside he spoke again. “I used to be a lot more arrogant I think.” It wasn’t a confession he made often, and it made her look up with confusion, small hands cupped around the coffee. She walked close to him again, and he followed her to the bagel place that she always talked about. He hadn’t been there before but she was really excited about it. “What made you change?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee and the blowing little clouds of steam into the cold air. “We go left here by the way.” She guided him around the shoulder by lightly pushing him with her body. He sighed. “I used to go to the Dancing academy here. Bu-“ “What??! You went to Lee-Young’s?!” she exclaimed with big eyes. “Oh…yeah.” “I didn’t know you danced, let alone were that good.” She mumbled, pouting a little. Jongin chuckled and bumped her lightly. “It’s not that nice of a place really. It’s all competition and no friendship, and I guess that’s why I was so arrogant. I felt like I was better than others because I got in there, but I wasn’t.” “Did you quit?” He shook his head, and brushed a stray strand of hair back up with the rest. And he felt the sudden nerves in his shaking digits, should he just tell her? “I was thrown off.” “What?” she gasped, and she stopped him by grabbing his sleeve. “What happened?” Jongin reverted his eyes to their shoes, her low heeled ankle boots, his dress shoes. “I got into a car accident.” A soft gasp left her lips and she touched his arm. “You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay.” He was silent, and then looked at her. She was looking up at him, round eyes full of concern. “I just couldn’t dance anymore after that.” “I’m sorry.” She whispered. “Are you okay now?” Jongin nodded. “I am, thank you.” “Let’s go, I’m starving.” She linked her arm through his again as they walked on, but she didn’t put her hand into her pocket. He felt her small hand slide into the pocket of his own coat, and reach out for his hand in the small space, intertwining their fingers. Her hand was much much smaller than his, and he felt her manicured nails lightly scrape over the top of his hands. It was cold, but both of their hands quickly warmed in the confined space. After walking a little more they turned a corner onto a little square with all these tiny shops. “It’s right there, Sweet Bagels.” “Sweet Bagels? Really? How much of a sweet tooth do you really have?” he laughed. “I still hold up to my suspicion of you filling up that candy jar of yours regularly so that it seems like you don’t eat that many.” She squinted her eyes at him. “I do not.” “Miyong I see you munching on those things all day through at the office, and that thing never goes empty!” he was laughed and she pushed a finger into his chest. “You’re just jealous that you’re not getting any!” He rolled his eyes and she took their intertwined hands from his pocket to pull him inside the small shop. But unfortunately he missed the little step and he tumbled, twisting his ankle and finding support on a neighbouring chair. He gritted his teeth, groaning, as pain shot up his leg. “Fuck.” Miyong was beside him in an instant, touching his back lightly. “Shit, are you okay?” Jongin stood up straight and tried to stand up on his leg. Hot pain, like sparks, all the way from his ankle to his knee. “I will be I just need to sit. Is that okay?” “Of course. Oh my god. Like don’t worry about it. We can sit inside and eat. We’ll take a cab back, it’s cold outside anyway. The park will be there next time.” Next time. He thought and smiled lightly through the pain. “Thanks.” She helped him sit at a table as he limped slightly, but the pain ebbed away quickly as it always did after he twisted it. “I’ll be okay really, I’ll pay for the cab.” “No, seriously I pulled you and you tripped. I feel bad, please let me just.” Jongin shook his head, stretching his leg out under the table and bumping her foot accidentally. “You pay enough Miyong. You have your own place, you drive your own car, pay your own tuition. My family pays a lot of my expenses, so please.” She studied him, and sighed. “Okay.” He smiled and touched her hand on the table. “It’s okay. It’ll be gone in an hour or so, it happens a lot.” “Is it the leg you hurt in the accident?” He nodded. “It was trapped underneath the steering wheel, I broke it in 4 places. I was lucky they weren’t open breaks, or I’d have lost my leg.” Sadness crossed her face and he squeezed her hand lightly. “Hey, don’t worry about me I’ll be fine.” After she looked at him for a little longer, studying his features, she nodded and grabbed a menu to open it up in front of him. “Let’s eat.” “Okay,” he chuckled. “What’s best here.” She pointed out various things on the menu , and meanwhile Jongin was a little wary of them other people in the place. That had by now adverted their eyes from them. “So my favourite is the apple cinnamon one, but the snickers, or cookies and cream are really nice too. Oh and the white chocolate raspberry.” He cringed his nose at the last one. “So sweet, I can feel my teeth aching already.” “Says the guy who drinks his coffee with two cubes of sugar and heaps of milk.” She mumbled under her breath and he smirked. “What?” “Nothing!” Soon a waiter came to their table, he seemed young, maybe 16, but he was really nice and polite. “Can I take your order?” Jongin motioned for her to order first. “Ahh for me, a green tea, and a white chocolate raspberry bagel.” She smiled sweetly to the boy and he tapped everything in on a small tablet. Then he turned to Jongin. “For me a green tea too, and a cinnamon apple bagel.” The boy nodded and left the table to pass through the order. He returned quite quickly with their drinks, placing them on the table. “I’m surprised you drink green tea, no coffee?” he joked as he opened the teabag and placed it in his water. “I mean I suspected you were quite as much caffeine addicted as you were to sugar.” She gasped and place a hand over her heart in fake hurt. “Jongin, why are you so judgemental. I cannot believe. Not everyone who loves coffee is addicted, and people can love both tea and coffee. I just think the taste is too strong to have it with food.” “There you are right.” They were both laughing, and talking about the little things. What tv shows they watch and bad sleeping habit. Miyong apparently sleeps with her socks on, and Jongin told her about how he sometimes wakes up hugging his pillow. And she’s jokingly replied that he needed a cuddle buddy to which he didn’t really know what to reply. So they’d left the topic and moved on to annoying people on the office, bad habits when writing. “Hi, I have a raspberry white chocolate bagel?” the waiter said from beside the table. “Oh that’s mine.” Miyong said and he placed her plate in front of her, Jongin’s in front of him. “We should probably hurry though.” Miyong said looking at her phone. “We’ve been out for like half an hour already.” Their breaks were about an hour, and they were checked. So they’d have to hurry a little indeed. “Let me call a cab, it’ll save us some time.” She nodded and he got out his phone to order a cap via the app they used. They being him and the guys, not his company. The bill would be issued to their place and Suho would just take it with the rest of the expenses. “They’ll be here in 20 minutes.” “Quick then.” “You’re going to get sugar rush from that thing if you eat it too quick.” Jongin said to her taking a first bite of his own bagel. The flavour was amazing, and the apples were slightly warm. “Oh, this is really good!” She chuckled. “Yeah, I told you didn’t I!” With warm brown eyes focused on her own bagel, she cut off a little piece and offered it to him. “Try this one.” He frowned a little but leant over the table to take the bite from her fork. It was a little odd, the sweetness of the raspberry and the heavy buttery taste of the white chocolate. The bread however, sort of made it perfect, dulled out the tastes and complimented them in a way he never thought he’d enjoy. “Hmm.” He said with his mouth full. “Okay, you win.” She did a little victory wiggle in her chair and he laughed, so cute. “I like your smile.” She said, wiping a little white chocolate of the corner of her mouth. “It’ s cute.” He blushed and looked down. “Thank you.” “Ah, don’t get shy on me now. It’s true.” There was a bit of silence after that, as they ate their bagels. Until Jongin decided to speak up. “I think you’re really pretty.” A frown appeared on her face but it soon turned into a smile. “Thank you. But don’t feel like you have to say that just because I gave you a compliment.” He was shocked and it probably showed on his face. “No, I mean it, I really think you’re pretty.” She chuckled. “I enjoy spending time with you. You’re really easy going, more so than I thought you were.” “Likewise.” He said, but then he corrected himself. “Oh, no not that I didn’t think you were but…” “Ah, I know. I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but I teach at this dancing school back at home.” His eyes widened. “You dance?” “Have I never mentioned?” she asked cocking her head to the side. He shook his head. “No, I’m sure I’d have remembered. What style?” “Oh, I don’t really dance myself anymore. But I used to dance ballet before I went to law school.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice, but Jongin knew how much time it took up to study law, and he knew that keeping up ballet on the side was a hard thing to do. “I was too short and chubby anyways to get into anywhere big.” She mumblingly added. “I think you’re beautiful as you are. Dancing shouldn’t be limited to body sizes, it’s a stupid rule.” She smiled genuinely at him, but he also knew that he had it easy. Always having been lean and tall. He felt for her though, he once knew a guy that got kicked of the program because he grew too tall. “But I didn’t want to let go of it completely, I’ve been dancing since I was a little girl. So I agreed to teach one group of little kids on wednesdays. They’re so cute, tiny little boys and girls.” There was a sparkle in here eyes and he looked at her in awe. He could hear her passion in the way she talked. “I don’t know if I’m being too forward, of if it makes you uncomfortable. But if you like it you could come along in two weeks, I’m sure they’ll love you.” He was stilled for a moment and he looked at her. He hadn’t danced since the day of his accident, because he couldn’t really. He needed an insole to stop himself from limping due to the multiple breaks, and sometimes his leg hurt after the tiniest wrong movement. It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t a little scared to go, but he didn’t want to turn her down. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to come along.” “It’s a date.” She smiled the brightest smile yet.

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