#but i still really fucking miss that pork stuff with my rice

[fallen-chances]

@nightlist tagged me in a fun little thingie, but I'm weird about those threads so I'm doing a new post for it.

Relationship Status: tentative trying out a LDR with a long-term friend. so.. taken then, I guess.

Favorite Color: In general probably a deep purple.

Favorite Food: Hmm. Always a hard decision. I miss my dad's pork chops, honestly.

Song Stuck In My Head: Losing my Religion. It came up on my store's music playlist yesterday and has been rattling around in my brain since.

Time: ...late.

Dream Trip: Very classic, but Greece. I really wanna see all the olde niche ruins that don't have a bunch of tourist shit. Like the ruins of Sparta are no where near as fancy as Athens, but it would still be super cool. If not that, then Norway to see my partner :)

Last Book Read: I was reading Dracula with the rest of Tumblr for a while, but fell off :(

Last Book I Enjoyed Reading: It's been so long since I've read an ACTUAL book. I was reading Master and Apprentice (star wars) which was pretty good, tbh!

Last Book I Hated Reading: A few years ago I was trying to read The Vampire Lestat but I fell off like 1/3 of the way through bc it got really... Weird. And also Anne Rice's writing is a nightmare sometimes to get through. Took me like a month just to finish Interview With The Vampire.

Favorite thing to cook/bake: Bread is really fun to make but I'm bad at it. Any sort of baking is fun, actually. I kinda wanna make banana bread I bought stuff for it today!

Favorite Spare Time Craft: Drawing or writing!

Niche Dislike: Bc of working in retail I now despise anyone who picks up a product and puts it down somewhere else. My mom did that today while grocery shopping and I got mad about it.

Opinion on Circuses: Kinda fucked up. I'm sure the new modern ones are better but I've never been to one.

tagging! hm idk. @witchy--mama, @kagrenacs (i can't remember your non-tes blog or I'd tag it), @dunebugs, @temporalteardrop, @miraculan. No fuss if you don't want to do it, and anyone I didn't tag that wants to do it is free to, say I tagged.

#tag games #my post #also feel free to rb this to make a thread or do your own post idc!

[tothemeadow]

Commissioned by @imightbeagoose​

Pillars x Reader

- When the Pillars agreed to meet a demon, they weren’t expecting... this. - 

warnings: swearing

words: 1k

-

“I… I can’t believe this.”

“Yeah, I can’t either, but this katsudon is the shit!”

“Kyojuro-san, please think with your head instead of your stomach.”

Gathered around a long, food clustered table, the Pillars share cautious glances with each other – well, besides Kyojuro and Mitsuri. They laugh joyously as they stuff food down their throats, their faces practically glowing with their glee. The others are too skeptical at the feast displayed in front of them, but they can’t deny the delicious scents wafting through their nostrils. Giyuu’s eyes go wide as his stomach abruptly gurgles.

“By the gods,” Sanemi grunts, “can’t you get a fucking hold of yourself? Talk about shaming the rest of us.”

“Now, now, now,” you chip in, a sly smile blooming on your features. “Haven’t you learned that insulting your host is rude behavior?” Leaning forward in your seat, you prop your elbows on the table, chin resting on your knuckles. “And I went out of my way to prepare all this delicious food for you… Can’t you humor me by taking at least one bite?”

“And potentially wrecking my fabulous insides?” Tengen says, rolling his eyes. Slamming a hand down on the table, he points a long finger at you. “We didn’t come here to eat dinner with a demon,” he hisses. “I should slice your head off already.”

“And yet you haven’t done so,” you shoot back, not missing a single beat. “In fact, none of you so-called Pillars have laid a single finger on me. I told you, I haven’t harmed a single human, nor have I devoured one. I do have a thing called class.”

If this “meeting” had been called at any other time under different circumstances, none of the Pillars would have hesitated in ending your life. However, ever since that fateful encounter with Nezuko and learning that some demons choose not to bring harm to human beings, things have been, well, rather confusing. So when Oyakata-sama told them about you and the mysterious letter you sent, their battle instincts weren’t too keen on stepping foot inside of a demon’s home.

However, they weren’t expecting to walk in on this. Table full of smoked fish, charred meats, sticky buns, and enough sake to feed an entire village. Nearly everyone’s eyes bugged out of their skulls upon seeing the sight; and then there was you, dressed in elaborate clothes and with a fanged smile on your face. You said you wanted to help them, possibly find a way to help others of the same nature as you and kill Muzan once and for all.

You were so calm as you explained your stance, saying that demons were a disgrace to the planet, that their barbaric ways weren’t suited for you. Truthfully, the Pillars found you to be full of shit, but once you convinced Kyojuro and Mitsuri to take a seat and help themselves, it became a battle they quickly lost.

“Please, feel free to eat whatever you’d like,” you say gently, turning to Giyuu as you do. “There’s plenty to go around. I insist all of you get something in your belly.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Giyuu reaches out and plucks a meat bun from a platter. Both Shinobu and Sanemi watch on in disgust, their faces scrunching up in displeasure of their fellow Pillar. After a silent moment or so, Giyuu flashes the tiniest of smiles. “…It’s really good.”

“Attaboy, Giyuu!” Kyojuro booms, mouth full of rice. You flinch as some of it spews onto the table. “It’s delicious, is it not? All of you are missing out on something truly spectacular! It’s not everyday you get a demon willing to cook for you!”

“Yeah, because most of the time the demon wants to eat you,” Muichiro mumbles. Reaching over the table, he snatches a piece of pork from Kyojuro’s bowl and puts it into his mouth. His dull eyes light up, then, and he nods his head enthusiastically. “I’m impressed.”

“That still doesn’t explain anything,” Obanai says. “You don’t harm humans, you don’t eat them. Then what do you do?”

With a thoughtful hum, you sit back in your seat. “Well, I mostly eat whatever wildlife I can find and I have a… specific source for which I gather human blood. I still find it wickedly disgusting, but it’s better than eating a human being.” You shudder. “Seriously. Dead humans smell atrocious – and think about the mess!”

All of the Pillars blink at you, a mixed arrangement of expressions playing on their faces.

“Come again?” Tengen asks, a neat eyebrow cocking itself on his forehead.

“Humans are disgusting,” you say again, irritation lacing your words. “Obviously. I’m a demon, remember? I used to be a human! I didn’t want to eat them then, so why would eat them now? Gods, I have standards, you know. I can barely stand being around humans in the first place; why would I do if I was surrounded by corpses? Uh, no thanks.”

“Am I hearing this right?” Mitsuri speaks up, although it comes out more as a mumble since her cheeks are full. “You think eating humans is… disgusting?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“There’s no need,” Gyomei’s deep voice rumbles. “Your position is rather… admirable. If only others followed in your suit.” He then pauses for a moment to sniffle and wipe away his eyes. “The very act itself if poetic.”

“Gyomei,” Sanemi starts, completely dumbfounded, “you’ve never read a single piece of poetry in your life…”

Clapping your hands together, you gesture to the spread of food. “Now that that’s out of the way, please! Eat! I insist!”

“Jeez, you’re pretty persistent about this…” Obanai mumbles.

“Just eat the damn food already before I shove it down your sorry excuse of a throat!” you snap. “Holy shit.”

“Hey,” Giyuu mutters around his meat bun, “if you don’t want to eat that…” He flashes Obanai a knowing look.

Shinobu sighs. “Can I poison him yet?”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny pillars x reader #kny hashira x reader #kny pillars #kny hashira #commission #imightbeagoose

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Creeper

I’m writing more hikyuu to prove that you actually should request Haikyuu stuff when requests open and also just to flex. 

Tenou x reader

word count: 1,600 (about)

warnings: none, this is pretty sweet and fluffy. 

Summary: Tendou is uncharitbly called a Stalker when it comes to his crush.  I mean what you spend half your time stareing at one person and suddenly you’re a a stalker? Guess that means you’re a stalker too...

Tendou knew he was a bit of a creep and that you probably hated him, if you even thought of him at all. But he was okay with it, he had been dealing with people being scared for a while so he shouldn’t care. Even if the person scared of him was drop dead gorgeous. 

You came to watch volleyball practice nearly every day after school. Lots of people did but you were the only one who caught his eye. He made sure his blocks were mega impressive if he knew you were watching, but it wasn’t enough. your attention always seemed to be on someone else. 

Not that he wasn’t used to that either. But it took him a couple of days to figure out why it was bothering him now all of a sudden. 

Tendou seriously considered asking you to transfer out of  Shiratorizawa when he realized he had accidently started crushing on you.  He simply couldn’t have it, it was too distracting. He tried to way the pros and cons but in the end he scrapped the “50 reasons why (y/n) should leave Shiratorizawa.” Essay. Besides if you actually did leave Shiratorizawa, then he wouldn’t be able to see your cute face everyday. 

“you’re staring again,” Reon said, Tendou frowned. 

“I don’t know what you mean, I wasn’t even looking in your direction,” He shot back with a smile. He really was such a creep, always sitting at the right angel so he could look at you, but as long as you didn’t notice him then it he wasn’t hurting anyone. 

“you should just ask her out,” Shirabu said through a mouth full of pork. Tendou went stiff just thinking about it. 

“Nah she’s not my type, wayyy to pretty for my tastes and she’s even nice and smart from what I heard, who’d want to be with a girl like that?” he fake gagged finally tearing his eyes away from where you were sitting with your friends. he picked at the rice on his plate slowly forming a rice snowman. 

“sure, whatever,” Shirabu. the subject changed and Tendou looked up again watching you laugh, you were cute, he wouldn’t mind dating you, it would be nice to see you in his large sweatshirt or cuddle with him while you did homework together. Even just to hold you would be nice, he knew that you would probably flinch from his touch if he tried anything in real life, but his fantasies didn’t have to adhere to the real world. it would be sweet if you weren’t so incredibly out of his league. 

You came to the Shiritorizawa match early, as you always did, you wished the volleyball team wasn’t quite so popular, it might be easier to get a good seat then. Normally you would go up to the stands to watch from a safe distance. 

Today you weren’t so lucky. 

“Hey! you girl,” Coach Washijō snapped at you making you jump. 

“u-uhm Yes sir?” he pointed at a bag at his feet. 

“Fill up these water bottles for the game,” He barked. you squeaked and scampered to do as he asked. 

“Hustle! Show some school spirit!” he shouted as you struggled to fill the bottles as fast as possible 

You had thought about becoming the manager for the team but this interaction made you glad you hadn’t  Washijō was biting at your heals as you dragged the water to the courtside. you were almost in tears as he yelled at you. 

“I-I-I,” you couldn’t even force a simple ‘I’m sorry’ with out tripping over yourself you were so flustered.

“ah thank you for helping (y/n) we’re going to extra luck thanks to you,” you looked up to see who had saved you, and weren’t surprised to see tendou there. Of course he would be the one to save you. you felt your heart melt a little seeing him. 

You never got the chance to see satori up close, you almost forgot how tall he was. and now that he was so close you couldn’t help but flush with embarrassment. Now that the Coaches attention was off of you, you could speak again.

“It’s uh no proplem coach and g-good luck with the game Tendou,” you squeaked before darting off the court and up to the stands. Of course all the good seats were taken so you were relegated to the back of the stands. 

Still, it was a pretty good game, the other team up good fight you won in straight sets. If you were right, Tendou didn’t miss a single block. 

You really only came to the games for the cute red-headed middle blocker. You didn’t speak to Tendou often, it was rare you found an excuse too, but you still had fallen for him hopelessly.

you sighed dreamily to yourself as you walked out with a mass of people. You still couldn’t belive you’d talked to him today. 

Tendou was buzzing with excitement. It had been a really good game and it was all thanks to you. No way he could have done without you sweet words to him before the match. It probably also helped that you had touched his already lucky water bottle. 

He was on cloud nine as he hummed happily walking off the court, his team mates couldn’t help but notice.

You were watching the practice like you always did, save for the fact that you were alone today. Most of the time your friends would join you to giggle about how handsome Ushijima was, but none of them could make it today. 

“Hey you’re (y/n) right?” semi asked, stopping you before you could even enter the gym. 

“uh yeah?” you sounded unsure of yourself, but this was the first time Semi had ever bothered talking to you and you had no idea why. 

“cool, I saw you at the game the other day, you should come to more of our games-”  you were more confused than anything. Was he hitting on you?

“uh okay?” you said awkwardly, not wanting to tell him that you already went to all the games. 

“you know Tendou likes to see you there,” he added raising his eyebrows you felt your face flush with embarrassment. so he wasn’t hitting on you, but playing wingman for tendou

“oh, did Tendou tell you that?”

“nah, but we can all just sort of tell he’s into you,”

“That’s kind of a jump don’t you think? I mean just ‘cus he wanted to see me doesn’t mean he likes me,” you argued nervously messing with your fingers. 

“Trust me, He’s into you, He’s probably pissed I’m even talking to you, He’s just... kinda weird, so ask him out sometime,” Semi encouraged. 

As it happened, Tendou was pissed that Eita was talking to you. How dare he try and steal Tendou’s little good luck charm. Tendou usually stared at you as much as he liked, but he couldn’t stomach watching you blush at whatever semi was saying to you. 

was that why you came to every practice and every game? because you were in love with him? he though about you clinging to Eita the way he wanted to hold you and his heart lurched. he wondered if he could finger tape his heart back together again. Not that he would do anything to break the two of you up, if you were happy then he couldn’t stop that right? and if you were dating Semi then he’d definitely see you more...

He was leaving the gym lost in his own thoughts when he heard his own name called  “Tendou, do you think you could walk with me back to the dorms?” Tendou almost jumped. How the fuck were you so quiet?

“Awe does the is the cute little Junior scared of the dark? You need your big strong Senpai to walk with you?” he teased automatically before mentally kicking himself. he really hated himself. you laughed politely and started walking with him 

“Actually I wanted to talk to you, Semi said you liked me,”

Tendou wanted to through himself into the ocean. or maybe a really big hole in the ground that could swallow him up entirely. anything really to get out of this situation. 

“oh? is that what you two were talking about?”

“yeah he said that I should ask you out,”

“oh,” maybe he’s just kill Semi instead, that would work too. 

“I really like you Tendou, I want to ask you out,” you admitted stopping in the middle of the walkway. he was glad you did because he froze instantly. this had to be a joke right? Semi put you up to this and they were all laughing at him right now. but as he looked around him, he was alone, no one even hiding in the bushes and you didn’t look like you were pulling a prank. you looked almost as nervous as he felt. fuck it. he learned forward kissing you quickly, barely brushing his lips with yours before pulling back, not wanting to press his luck. 

You were left completely breathless, you touched your lips feeling them buzz. Tendou laughed. 

“is that why you come to all the games and practices? you’re stalking me or something?” he cupped your cheek and kissed you again, this time he let the kiss linger long enough for you to kiss him back before he had to pull away, you're soft lips were making his head spin.

“you’re lucky you’re so cute (y/n) otherwise you’d be a total creep.”

#tendou #tendou satori #tendou x reader #imagine tendou satori #haikyuu!! x reader #satori x reader #hq tendou

[missinghan]

give it a chance ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : college au; roommates au; friends to lovers au

❖ word count : 9,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slightly suggestive & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you convinced yourself to attend a party in order to prevent Lee Minho from doing stupid things; however it’s not so stupid anymore when your roommate said he needed to tell you something important.

❖ a/n : the continuation of what if we is dedicated to @chaninfused, so *clears throat* this is where I hereby declare that she deserves more than what the entire universe can possibly give her; oh hi furat, this is why I’ve been so cryptic all this time. I know this isn’t much but I want to thank you for tolerating me and letting me be mean to you even though we only started talking for a few months; you’re an incredibly great friend and an amazing writer, don’t ever forget that 🖤

one.

It’s been almost a week since Jisung last talked to Minho (albeit texts and FaceTime) and he wakes up to his best friend roaming around his crusty kitchen, struggling to find a bottle of honey. Seungmin’s mom has been constantly sending them thirty packets of rib soup per week. And Minho thinks the sight of Han Jisung slurping on nothing but distorted rice with pork ribs while stressing over his paper for seven days straight is more tragic than his non-existent love life.

“It’s like you’re trying to turn us into gym rats,” Hyunjin snickers lazily, flinging his bangs away from his face. “You even brought us Tupperwares, are you really expecting us not to order tacos impulsively on study nights?” He’s a little dubious about stuff like this because he can feel the actual horror of only eating chicken breast and string beans just by seeing Chan cooking them up. 

Seungmin chucks a piece of lettuce towards his direction, “Don’t you have anything else to do other than complaining?” He knows that when Jisung and Hyunjin decide to order food on study nights, they’re gonna do anything but study.

“Uhm, I actually do,” he replies nonchalantly. “I’m going through Minho’s phone.”

Jisung takes a seat next to him by the counter, propping his head onto his hands, “What’s the point? There’s nothing but cat photos and cat memes...and also Y/N as his background.”

“That angle is hideous, by the way,” Hyunjin comments like the true photography geek he is, which is completely ignored by Minho because he’s too cranky to start a fight at ten in the morning. “But it’s kinda cute for you to do that, so I’m gonna turn a blind eye.”

Jisung asks out of the blue, “Who’s going to BamBam’s party this Sunday? Well, besides the other two-thirds of 3RACHA.” 

“I have a midterm on Monday, dumbass,” Seungmin mumbles while washing his vegetables at the sink. 

“And I’m sleeping over at Lix’s for a project,” Hyunjin informs him lamely, having no intention to attend another single frat party. At least not BamBam’s frat parties—that guy has the weirdest friends; a chick was so drunk that she thought Hyunjin was her boyfriend and almost tried to make out with him on the dance floor. 

Jisung secretly hates going to parties without his friends- no, actually, he never goes to parties without people from his social circle because he dreads the whole introduction part that requires formalities and inevitable awkwardness. But it’s not like that with Minho, ten minutes into their very first conversation and he feels like he’s known him for years. 

In short, he will die if Minho doesn’t come to the party. Chan can only chat with him for so long until his DJ duty occurs and Changbin’s probably gonna be too busy doing keg stands to care about his antisocial friend. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” Minho gives in while chopping up the chicken breasts and this prompts Jisung to clap happily like a seal for the next twenty seconds as he skips over to the fridge to fetch a water bottle. “But we’re gonna need a ride, I’m not taking my motorbike for some crackhead to puke on it. Ask Chan later when you crash at his place.”

Jisung tosses his head back to take a peek at the clock hanging by the bookshelf, and it reads 10:07 AM. He really should be getting for his class at eleven because traffic sucks but he’s not feeling like sitting through two hours of Park ranting about marketing strategies. “Can’t Y/N just drive us? I don’t think she’d let anyone else take you home when you’re not sober,” he ponders, earning a nod of agreement from both of his roommates. 

Just when Minho opens his mouth to brush it off, he stops himself to process the information again and holds back a ‘you’re right’ because he hates letting people know that they’re not wrong. He wouldn’t let anyone drive you home when you’re drunk either. “Her car’s with her dad right now,” he tries to sound casual when three pairs of curious eyes are glued onto his back. “I, uh, sorta had it run into a tree last week.”

“You what? How are you still alive?” Hyunjin’s jaw is on the floor and Seungmin accidentally dumps too much vinegar into his salad while Jisung’s choking on the iced cold water, coughing furiously after into the sleeve of his hoodie. Guess Chan’s gonna have to drive them both. After all, he can never say ‘no’ to J.One. 

Minho murmurs, “A dude rear-ended me, fucking idiot.” He finishes marinating the chicken breasts and arranges them nicely onto a tray with aluminum foil on top, pushing it into the preheated oven. “And basically she’s never letting me touch her car again,” he sighs while staring into midair dreamily, flashbacking to last Friday when you immediately Ubered yourself all the way from campus to downtown after picking up his call. All he got was thirty seconds of affection; you made sure that he’s not hurt and the rest was just a monstrous tantrum. He ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 

“My my, you two are just like an old married couple,” Hyunjin chuckles lightheartedly and shakes his head, scrolling through the series of texts in amusement, “What even is this? I swear your conversation consists of 60% ‘when are you going home?’, 40% ‘your lunch is here’ and 20% terrible cat memes.”

“We’re roommates,” Minho drags the word through gritted teeth, holding back all the murderous thoughts inside his head because he feels like Hyunjin’s just asking for a death wish. It’s too early for this. 

Unexpectedly, Seungmin decides he’s in a pretty good mood today since he aced his OChem pop quiz yesterday; meaning, he’s gonna stick his nose into his friend’s business whenever there’s a chance. “Don’t you guys share a bed too?” he pretends to play dumb only to receive a kick in the shin from the older boy. 

“We’re also broke,” Minho cranes his neck tiredly, washing the dirty knife under the tap. “Besides, the heater in the living room sucks.”

“You both even smell the same, it’s getting kinda creepy. Please don’t tell me you guys also share showers to have a light water bill,” Jisung makes a gagging noise and Minho thinks he’s already said too much. His grip on the knife tightens for a split second before letting it drop into the sink. He doesn’t trust himself with anything sharp the moment Hyunjin started this unwanted conversation. He also regrets stealing Changbin’s meal prep recipes to feed his trash friends. 

Minho questions callously, “We just use the same shampoo and shower gel, what’s the big deal?” His hands go for the box of oatmeal that Felix left here last time in the cabinet full of random food. He doesn’t get why Seungmin would buy so much groceries like he’s in a pandemic knowing damn well that his idiotic roommates can’t cook for shit. 

Hyunjin purses his lips, trying to prove his point, “Don’t you think that it’s weird? You don’t do those things with us.”

“Because none of you would fucking house me when I was on the verge of being homeless!”

“And why is she yelling at you through texts anyway? Bro, there’s like ten missed calls here with at least a hundred ‘where are you?’. Why is she terrorizing you this early in the morning?” Minho immediately snaps out of his semi-angry trance, chest heaving up and down. 

“Oh shit,” he facepalms himself. “I promised to pick her up at ten from class, what time is it again?”

“You’re fifteen minutes late, my friend,” Jisung supplies unhelpfully. “It’ll take another ten to arrive at campus, without traffic that is. You’re so dead. D-E-A-D.” It feels weird to hear something correct coming out of Jisung’s mouth (twice in a row) and now Minho wishes he could just whack his friend unconscious on the floor with the new set of microphones that Chan gave him last year for Secret Santa. 

“Oh, I left your rice sitting at ‘warm’, by the way,” Minho makes a grab for his biker jacket and helmet on the counter before fleeing out of the apartment with his sneakers half-way tucked in. It’s not even been thirty minutes since they’ve seen each other for the past week and Jisung’s already choked on water, not once, but twice because of Lee Minho. Sometimes he wonders if the universe is telling him that he needs new friends. 

two. 

“Your boyfriend is late.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss at Yeji while staring at Minho’s contact on your phone anxiously. There’s no reason for you to be; worst-case scenario, you can just take the 0325 home and lock him outside for the night so that he’ll have no choice but to endure Chan’s embarrassing sleeping habits. He wouldn’t even notice either way because he’d be too busy swearing in his sleep to be annoyed. 

Yeji puts her hair up into a ponytail after stretching her limbs tiredly. She only has one class today and no choice but to stay on campus for her shift at the café before lunch break. Too bad Woojin can’t cover her today because of midterms. “I’m only speaking facts,” she tells you with a yawn and notices the slight pout on your face. “Hey, don’t be sad just because your stupid boyfriend can’t pick you up. I can call Chaeryeong if you need a ride here and there, she wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m not fucking sad!”

“Y/N, you look more depressed than Ryujin when she got a B+ in calc.” That’s irrelevant, Shin Ryujin already has a GPA booster after signing up for Kim’s stats class, one B+ won’t make it any less sparkly.

You only let out a prolonged sigh after checking your phone for the tenth time in the past half an hour. He isn’t picking up any of your calls, your messages probably can’t even reach him and now you’re sitting at M.I.A Cafe with a cup of plain water after standing outside at the front gate for so long like an idiot. An idiot, who’s hopelessly in love with her roommate- wait what? 

Listen, you already know that this is going to happen. It’s awfully inevitable and it’s getting harder and harder as the days pass by because summer is almost here. Meaning, Minho’s gonna move out soon, according to the contract. 

Are you sad about that? 

Yeah, kinda.

The more you think about it the more you regret your decision that day to let him stay with you. Because now you don’t think you’d be able to sleep without him next to you, hogging the blanket all to himself; you get angsty when he’s not home even if he’s just at dance practice; you’re definitely getting way too used to sharing an earphone with him while you both are dreading your assignments silently at the kitchen counter. And now you’re getting nervous just because he’s thirty minutes late. He’s never late, not even to your Monday Movie Night where you both can pig out and binge-watch the Avatar: The Last Airbender series until you’re sick of it. 

Maybe you’re relying on him too much. Hypothetically speaking, it’s not his fault for the damage of your car but you’re just making excuses to be with him. You even set him as your emergency contact. It’s kinda tedious to be your roommate, you realize. All of those things aren’t mandatory and he can simply mind his own business without having to feel obligated because of the ‘roommates’ label yet he’d still choose you, over everything else. Perhaps he’s dealing with his own first world problems and forgot to leave you a message this time. 

Yeji inquires breezily, wiping a cup dry with a towel, “Also, are you going to BamBam’s party this weekend?”

“For me to carry your ass home after getting shitfaced and sit through another two-hour lecture from Lia? I’ll pass thank you very much.”

She indicates with a quirk of her perfectly dark brow, “What if I tell you that Minho’s gonna be there?” Now she sounds like she’s the one who’s crushing on Lee Minho and not you. Never knew that your friends can be this creepy but the more you learn… “Jisung just told me he found a plus one aka Mister Celebrity to attend that frat party with, you wouldn’t have the heart to let me be the loner right?” she pouts with her nose scrunched and it reminds you too much of Light Fury so you look away, knowing that you wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance if she kept this up.

“How is that my problem?” you merely roll your eyes, slightly annoyed. “And also, isn’t Jisung supposed to have his marketing class now?”

Yeji doesn’t give a damn about what on Earth Han Jisung is doing with his life so she just brushes your question off. “Would you let Minho drink irresponsibly?”

You nod without hesitation, though it feels wrong coming out of your mouth, “He can do whatever he wants...as long as my carpet remains clean after his hangover.”

“Would you let me drink irresponsibly?”

“The same goes for you,” you tell her monotonously. “And I only picked you up because Lia sounded like she was hyperventilating when you attended that one law brat’s birthday party. Na Jaemin, wasn’t it? Hate that guy, by the way.”

Yeji thinks it’s time for you to open up even more and not despise people that much. Having Lee Minho as your roommate is already a huge step-up but it’s not like there have been any modifications to your routine except the fact that another human being is simply enduring your bitchy ass of a loner. She wants you to be really out there, just not messing with shit like doing keg stands because Seo Changbin is a terrible influence. Woojin once had to drop his shift at the sushi place to drive Jeongin home because Changbin left him hanging on the beanbag chair for a game of beer pong. Jeongin has never gone to another single party since. 

“You hate literally everyone!” Yeji’s getting impatient, you can feel it.

“Are you telling me it’s my fault that people are shitty?” you bark, massaging the sides of your temple tiredly. You wish you could just drop the entirety of your current presentation to Yeji because your brain cells are already evaporating one by one into thin air.

She barks back, merely sneering, “C’mon! Y/N, it’s not like you ever have plans for the weekend.”

“But I’m having midterms on Monday, I didn’t spend my time on those notes for nothing.”

She shakes her head at you almost in disapproval. Sure, you’re a coward for backing out on this because BamBam’s no stranger to you. That Thai kid has been hanging out with Chan since middle school and he always offers to buy you coffee whenever you happen to drop by as they’re working on a project together. He’s a nice guy, but you don’t know him that well. Something in your gut is telling you that he has weird friends (he totally does). And you’re not about to overdrink only to blurt out an awful confession to Minho while being surrounded by a bunch of crackheads that aren’t in your social sphere.

“I heard kids are vapi-” Yeji stops herself, thinking she should just give up, and get ready for the next batch of sleep-deprived customers coming in at lunch break before Jeongin chucks an avocado at her direction for chit-chatting too much about your gigantic crush on Minho. “Nevermind, it’s not like you’d care anyway, have fun with reviewing I guess.” And with that, she leaves you alone with the cup of plain water to dump the used coffee grounds in the trash.

It takes you at least ten seconds to comprehend what she just said. And you’ve come up with a new yet very last-minute decision: screw midterm because you’re making sure that Lee Minho’s going home in one piece. 

Very timely, your phone buzzes on the wooden counter.

[10:38 AM]

lino | hey you still on campus?

three.

The blush scattered across your cheekbones just grows ten shades darker when you see Minho at the front gate leaning against his black Kawasaki; disheveled hair, hands stuffed inside his pockets, occasional puffs of smoke escaping his lips, and unbothered gaze. You’ve never told him this, you’re not telling him this now, and you’re never gonna tell him; but he looks stupidly good in that biker jacket. Again, you don’t get how someone can look this good early in the morning. 

“What are you doing here?” you murmur grimly, approaching him from behind. It feels like he’s doing this to your heart on purpose, without even trying. And those girls over there are making you very uncomfortable by eyeing your roommate up and down like he’s an expensive piece of steak with a gold leaf sticking to it.

Minho turns sideways and flashes you a smile; your little heart just did a perfect cartwheel because of that, it can only take so much. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of time, but I still promised to pick you up, didn’t I?” he says casually as your face morphs into a deep frown because you’re basically confused. The only problem is: you don’t even know why you’re confused. There’s this fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and now you feel as though someone just gives you a blow to the head when Minho looks straight into your eyes, brows slightly knitted together.

This is not healthy. 

“You didn’t answer my calls or my texts.”

Minho thinks you look cuter than usual when you’re silently fuming because you’re not the type to lash out on people. But it’s not so cute anymore when you threatened to flush his AirPods down the toilet that one time when he spilled ketchup on your carpet. He just hopes he doesn’t end up sleeping on the couch tonight like last time. 

“I put my phone on silent, as always,” he reminds you of how much of a pain in the ass it is to receive a call-back or a simple reply from him. 

You make a face, “Whatever, didn’t I tell you not to make a scene? Have you seen those chicks back there? They’re watching me as if I’m sabotaging their dreams of eating you alive.” Well, you can’t exactly blame your roommate for having girls gushing over him wherever he goes because...it’s his fault for looking like a snack all the time. 

Minho quickly detects how you’re not overly fond of his admirers and needless to say, he’s fairly amused. “Then let them,” he puts an arm over your shoulders and pulls you flushed against him, ruffling your hair. Moments later, you’re already hearing scandalous gasps along with hushed whispers going through your eardrums like a never-ending train. It’s really setting your nerves on fire. 

“Don’t you think that this is weird?”

“What?” Now it’s Minho who’s confused here. 

You slightly push him away and avert your gaze elsewhere to avoid eye contact. “We’re roommates, right?” you mumble, slightly unsure about...all of this. 

“Hmm, what about it?”

“Well, I don’t know…” you fiddle with the hem of your jacket and sigh. “What if people keep getting the wrong idea about us?” You sound somewhat regretful as if your decision of taking him in as your roommate was a mistake, as if you feel like it’s better off if he wasn’t in your life at all, as if the past month was completely meaningless. Since when did things become this complicated? It started with a harmless one-month contract and now Minho’s not sure of what he should do next. But that’s not it, is it? Maybe he’s just overthinking too much. 

He looks hesitant for a moment there, very not-Lee-Minho of him. “We’re still cool right?” Minho tilts his head to the side, the afternoon sunlight slips through fluffs of white clouds and brings the constellations in his warm brown eyes to life. Though he looks like a scolded child, you can’t help but want to put this moment into a frame and simply cherish it for the rest of your life. 

“Beats me,” you breathe out, silently hating yourself for not being able to get angry at him. It’s harder than you thought, really, and it doesn’t help when his eyes keep doing that thing to your poor little heart. “Make me pasta and we’re good,” you end up chuckling when Minho’s expression turns a solid three hundred and sixty at the offer.

“That’s not a very smart move for a business major, your loss,” he replies with a goofy smile, tossing the helmet that he got you yesterday in your direction. And if you pay attention enough, you can almost see Minho exhaling out of relief. But you’re too busy staring at the ground to douse yourself in your own giddiness to notice. “Oh crap, I think I left my wallet at Hyunjin’s,” he tells you after swinging a leg over on his shiny vehicle. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “You don’t need your wallet to make me pasta now do you?”

“By the way, are you going to BamBam’s party?”

“Only if you’re going,” you scratch the bridge of your nose with your ring finger, a little embarrassed to admit that he’s the only reason why you’re ditching midterms. 

Minho’s hearty laugh fills your eardrums, shit-eating grin and all. “If it makes you feel better, Chan’s driving us,” he voices without looking at you, but your chest still swells either way. 

You fucking hate how you have the softest spot for him. 

four.

You’re already regretting this although you’ve only been sitting in Chan’s back seats for less than twenty minutes. Crankiness takes over your body as a result of reviewing for the whole afternoon, your eyelids are getting droopy, and your head seems to be all too big for your neck at this rate. More reasons for you to not drink tonight. 

“Ugh, why am I even here?” you groan, and Jisung scrunches his nose, slightly alarmed because you’re not usually this loud unless you’re high on caffeine. 

Minho tells you in the most lighthearted way possible, “Because you love me.” 

You wish you could just put his head through a wall because everything and anything coming out of his mouth are never healthy for your mind, or heart. “Uhm, no I don’t.”

“But you did confess your love to me,” he singsongs as if he just hit a jackpot with his lottery ticket, angling his head to toss you a wink. “I have receipts, ma’am. They’re right here, in my heart.” Minho’s never seen you so giddy before so he recorded everything, but he’s not planning on putting himself on a chopping block by telling you that. 

You shove his arm and purse your lips, flaming cheeks but the car’s too dark for him to see it. “I was sick, asshole, I talk shit more when I have a fever than when I’m drunk,” you defend yourself helplessly, not enjoying the fact that he had to bring it up when you’re in a confined space with Seo Changbin and Han Jisung. 

“Minho doesn’t like it when Y/N raises her voice.” Great, now he’s talking in third person. 

“What are you even? Four?”

He winks at you, “Baby me, baby.”

“Oh my god shut the fuck up and get away from me!”

“You’ll never get rid of me, baby.” Eventually, you give up because you’re too mentally exhausted and there’s still a long night ahead of you. You’re not wasting your energy in pointless arguments with him because you both yell at each other on a daily basis anyway. 

“Maybe he’ll zip it if you tell him that you love him,” Jisung suggests innocently with a not-so-innocent look on his face. He’s already acting dumb when he’s this fucking sober so you’re not looking forward to two hours later when vodka’s practically replaced his own blood. 

“I’d rather chew off my own foot.” Changbin snorts involuntarily at your stiff remark, Chan mutters a small ‘ouch’ while Jisung’s too busy laughing his ass off. And a demeaning silence descends after that. 

Minho’s right next to you, oddly unresponsive to the situation, his head leaning against your shoulder as he gazes dejectedly out the window. You don’t see how stormy his eyes are. He also misses his motorcycle tremendously because Chan’s the safest (slowest) driver to ever exist. No joke, if he keeps going at the pace of thirty miles per hour then you should just skip the party and watch a movie while getting drunk at his place altogether. 

“Can you go any fucking slower?”

“Excuse me?” Chan laughs in disbelief, he’s a little offended because he personally thinks he’s a good driver, maybe a little bit too obedient when it comes to the law. Hey, at least you know you’re in good hands. “I’m not trying to get us all killed before BamBam could poison one of you guys.” 

Jisung purses his lips as he’s reminded of the last party where he ran into that Thai dude. He gave him a plastic cup, telling him that it’s merely a harmless fruity vodka only for Jisung to get kicked out by an Uber driver after throwing up in the back seats. Turns out, the lemons and oranges in the cocktail were relatively spoilt. 

“I’m gonna die from boredom before we could even get into a car accident,” Minho informs him unconstructively, staring at some random notifications from Instagram of people commenting on his cats’ photos, text messages from his mom and swipes them all away. Mostly to chuckle to himself like a moron because of his lock screen. Yes, your stupid face is still on there after three weeks and you don’t know if you should be crying or laughing.

Chan narrows his eyes at the rear-view mirror, “It seems like you’re entertaining yourself just fine by looking at Y/N’s face.” 

“This photo does make me laugh because it’s priceless,” the younger boy states without turning his head to look at you. “But still, bored.” 

The car grows silent again soon after because Chan’s already been stressed out enough from traffic since clearly, people can’t drive to save their own lives. But it’s not like your friends can keep their mouths shut for the rest of the trip anyway. 

“Boreddd,” Minho voices randomly while a J.One’s song is blasting through the speaker. It’s a terribly soft song and it doesn’t help when Minho feels like he can downright sleep through an earthquake, potentially falling into an enormous crack on the Earth’s surface and still being able to nap like there’s no tomorrow. He’s just glad that Jisung grew out of ‘Wow’ and embraces his awkward self through his own music. It’s..sentimental but what’s a J.One song without that element?

Changbin looks up from his phone for half a second, wholly uninterested. “Then shut up and sleep,” he says expressionlessly. Very timely, his most recent track comes up next on the playlist and he starts rapping along with it. Minho thinks he can really use a good eye shut as SpearB is performing live right behind him because Changbin can only stay sober like this for so long until he gets his hands on one of BamBam’s sketchy-looking concoctions. 

You’re starting to get bored too at this rate because usually, during times like this when the car is filled with nothing but music and everyone (except for the driver) feels like they’re falling into a food coma, a certain idiot will—

“Y/N, don’t you have a midterm on Monday?” Ah, there it is. 

Jisung bends himself forward and drapes an arm over the leather seat, scrunching his nose at the sight of Minho sleeping soundly against your shoulder. He’s still bitter about the fact that Minho refuses to drive anyone other than you with his motorcycle for some reason. Exclusive things are always so annoying. 

You exhale deeply because Jisung reminds you of that one kid who always asks questions that stress the hell out of the teachers back in high school. Would it kill for him to just shut up once in a while? 

“I do, and I haven’t got a wink of sleep since yesterday afternoon,” you tell him rather lazily, shifting when Minho snuggles himself closer to you, his hair tickling your jawline. You pray he doesn’t know how fast your heart is beating. “A little alcohol might spare me a night of crying myself to sleep.” 

Jisung lets his bottom lip stuck out like he’s a fucking five-year-old not allowed to get his favorite ice-cream flavor. “Aww, you should have asked Minho for cuddles then, pretty sure he’d be more than happy to—,” he remarks sarcastically and you wish you could just throw him in the middle of an intersection. He’s lucky because Minho’s a heavy sleeper or he would have been knocked senseless or something. The last thing Chan needs is being forced to pull over for having wild animals wrestle the shit out of each other in his vehicle. 

“Hey, fuck off,” you snarl at him, knowing you should have chosen the passenger seat instead. That way, you wouldn’t be fuming inside because you can’t physically strangle Han Jisung to his imminent death. He has already tattooed that image into the back of your brain and you swear you’ve never heard a creepier chuckle from your friend. 

Jisung notices the coral tint on your cheeks and sneers, leaning back against his seat. “Yeah right, as if you’re actually gonna get drunk,” he says snarkily. “You’re just gonna be there to prevent Lee Minho from making bad decisions.” 

“I decided to come because Yeji wanted me-“

“Yeji who? In what world will you have time for her when you’re too busy staring at Minho like a total creep? Wanna bet ten bucks?” 

That’s bullshit because Lee Minho is already your entire world. 

Chan butts in, “Make that fifty.”

Changbin raises his hand, “I’d bet my Tesla.” Your friends really spelled out ‘a bunch of fucking clowns’ in bold, gigantic capital letters and you’re this close to facepalm yourself against Chan’s steering wheel. This is why you don’t go to parties with them that often because you’re stuck with cleanup duties with Seungmin until these crackheads grow out of their amateur drinking habits. 

“You’re just jealous because he would rather call you an Uber than give you a lift himself,” you say pointedly and Jisung lets out the loudest, most scandalous gasp. So dramatic. 

“You,” he jabs a finger at you, eyes wide in accusation. “Need a nap.”

You laugh dryly, ignoring the urge to snap a picture of his flabbergasted expression and turn it into a new meme for your group chat. “You don’t say, Han, you don’t say.”

And Changbin rolls his eyes over the moon, vividly picturing where this disastrous conversation is gonna go. Basically, he wants you to get shitfaced as soon as you step foot into BamBam’s house so he’ll have a sappy, drunk confession video to toss on Twitter tonight because Woojin just posted a picture of him with a drumstick dipped inside a glass of what looks like a watered-down Margarita. He’s highly concerned since there hasn’t been anything juicy on his feed other than his friends creeping people out with their questionable content. 

“If you two don’t end up getting drunk and kiss, I’m gonna be pissed,” Changbin says casually as if it’s just an afterthought. This prompts you to chuck your phone in his direction—you can care less about your screen protector at this point if it means stopping him from taunting you further. 

He asserts like a snake, “Hey, remember that time where you tripped over Kkami and totally crushed Minho under your weight?”

“I blame gravity for that.”

“But Albert Einstein said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love.”

“Who cares about Albert Einstein?!” you whisper-shout harshly, cautiously eyeing Minho’s sleeping figure. He scrunches his nose and murmurs something that you can’t quite hear before turning over to face you completely. His arms unexpectedly slip underneath yours like second nature. He furrows his eyebrows occasionally, other times he’d be grinning like an idiot and his lips are slightly agape, full eyelashes framing his eyes beautifully. Sometimes you wonder how weird his dreams are whenever you caught him talking (and cursing) in his slumber. 

Changbin wants to pry aloud when you start staring at Minho for too long; he might as well be tossed on the freeway at this point before exasperation squeezes the little amount of oxygen left out of his chest. This is worse than Hyunjin’s terrible rom coms. He props his head onto his hand in boredom as Chan pulls over and turns off the engine. “Hey we’re here, why not wake your prince up with a kiss—”

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” you threaten. 

Now there are two distasteful tattoos at the back of your head. And you will not hesitate for a heartbeat sacrificing the entirety of your bank account to get them removed. To get Lee Minho removed from your mind.

If only it were that easy.  

“Mhmm,” the figure beside you lets out a low grunt and hugs your arm closer instinctively. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your denim jacket and sets your heart on fire. You’re ready to flick his forehead any second now to interrupt his slumber but before you could even do anything, Seo Changbin aggressively opens the door and you widen your eyes in horror. Where the fuck did he get a megaphone? And what for?

“Bitch wake up! Those drinks aren’t gonna finish themselves!”

It’d be a miracle if you ended up finding him alive by dawn. 

five.

“Y/N you ass, give it back!

“No, we’ve only been here for three hours and this is your fifth cup already,” you tell her in a mildly serious tone before dumping her cup of whatever the fuck of a yellow substance that Ryujin gave her ten minutes ago into the sink. 

Yeji plops herself onto the sofa in the living room after you drag her out of the kitchen where people are making out on the marble counter. Glad to see nothing’s changed...idiots. “God, you’re such a party pooper, I shouldn’t have told you to come,” she complains in between small hiccups, alcohol tinting her cheeks beet red. 

“I’m here to save your ass and this is how you’re repaying me?” Your question didn’t come out as coherent and threatening as you imagined and every single cell inside your body is shaking for no specific reason. 

Your friend narrows her eyes down into a mere glare like a detective in those crimes shows that you spend way too much time on and you’re debating whether you should be laughing or pissing yourself. She fucking knows that you’re lying. She fucking knows the sole reason for you to be here. “Give me a break, it’s not like you’re doing anything besides staring at your boyfriend from afar,” Yeji scoffs dejectedly. 

“God forbids ‘Lee Minho’ and ‘my boyfriend’ go in the same sentence,” you grit, subconsciously averting your gaze around the living room to spot your roommate. All he’s been doing is being held back by Chan when he tried to murder Changbin once, catching up with his old friends from high school and hanging out with some of his classmates, ranting about how much he dreads Kim’s eight AM, gushing with Hyunjin over some senior’s choreography set. By the looks of it, Jisung must have handed him at least seven of those red party cups from the bar—thanks to BamBam who keeps restocking them every hour. 

Yeji chuckles creepily when the alcohol finally hits her hard, you think you just got chills by the way that she’s leaning closer. “Of course not,” she hiccups into your ear, words slurred, “Lee Minho’s not my boyfriend, he’s your boyfriend.” You look at her in the eye, and mentally regret your life choices. How insufferable. 

“I mean, seriously,” she slams her body back onto the couch and groans; you can’t tell if it’s out of frustration or the cushion is too soft for her back. “It’s like you’re living the life of the main protagonist in a Harry Styles fanfiction! Do you know how many girls and boys would kill to live in the same apartment as that?” Her index finger is pointed directly at the person you’ve been watching and avoiding all night, across the room with a dart in his hand as he stands in front of the dartboard. 

“Were you aiming for the board or were you plotting to kill me? Because I can’t tell! I-can’t-fucking-tell!” Changbin shouts over the music and you momentarily cringe at the crack in his voice; it’s never a college party without one of your friends riling each other up over the dumbest things. And also, who thinks it’s a good idea to lend an unstable Lee Minho a sharp object of any kind?

You look away as heat flares through your nostrils when Minho accidentally glances at you after laughing at some corny joke that Chan made. He’s more than mildly hammered right now, you suppose, because, well, Chan can only make people laugh when they’re exceptionally drunk. 

A stupid question then slips out of your lips. “With what?” It sounds like you only have one brain cell and are perpetually dumb. It makes you feel even dumber when there’s nothing but a can of Coke inside your body. 

“A hottie who dances, cooks, has a good sense of humor, lowkey a genius, highkey a tsundere, shares a name with a famous actor. Far more handsome than the actor himself, if I dare.” Yeji has no hesitation whatsoever naming every reason as to why people on campus shamelessly throw themselves at your roommate on a daily basis. And now your head grows ten times fuzzier, floating mundanely in the clouds above. Basically, you feel like you’re drunk—except your confidence isn’t sky high enough to do something stupid—which makes no absolute sense. 

The silver-haired girl next to you puts an arm around your neck and giggles, you’re highly perturbed that her vocal cords are gonna give in tomorrow when she convinces you through FaceTime that you should be extra careful with your notes since she won’t be showing up to class. “Oh! And he has three cats, right? Cat people are said to be more intuitive and thoughtful, that’s a bonus,” Yeji asserts and your jaw is on the floor at this rate. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance during lunch break and she already knows this much?

No wonder Minho never talked about his cats with Felix and Seungmin again.

“I bet you read that off a Buzzfeed article.” 

“Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong!”

You inhale and exhale deeply, linking your fingers together, “Yeah, but that’s all people will ever see.”

“Well, what else can they like about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say bluntly, but the rouge on your cheeks is anything but ‘blunt’. “They don’t see how stuck-up he is, how he loves hogging the blanket all to himself, how he secretly stocks up a stash of trashy snacks. They don’t see the way his eyes sparkle when he looks into their eyes during a conversation because he’s actually a very attentive listener.”

Yeji pats your back without turning her head, slightly amused, “I think you meant how he looks into your eyes during a conversation.”

Your eyes scan the room one more time to find Minho hugging his stomach from laughing too much, there are actual tears in his eyes because Changbin just lost a bet and apparently he has to belly flop himself into the pool as a punishment. You haven’t seen him this happy in a while, even when he’s potentially dying from a really bad stomachache but it still puts your heart at ease knowing he’s having fun tonight. 

Needless to say, he always knocks the breath right out of your lungs without much effort. Even when he’s ditched the leather jacket and ripped jeans, you still think no one looks better than him in a large t-shirt and sweatpants. 

“But I don’t get it,” Yeji looks over at you this time, real carefully because your tone just grows firmer and more serious. “How can he just stand there, laugh...and look so beautiful?”

“I told you—”

“Yeah that’s exactly what I need to hear right now, Yeji,” you facepalm almost immediately, highly disappointed in yourself. 

Jisung’s getting his ten dollars on Monday when you surprise him with two slices of cheesecake from his favorite dessert place. Changbin can keep his Tesla and Chan...Chan isn’t getting anything.

You push yourself off the blue velvet couch and groan, you’re getting sore quickly because the cushions are far too soft. “Let me get some fresh air, I feel like I’m gonna to lose my mind,” you tell your friend but you doubt that she caught it since the music is all too loud for students to communicate properly. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why fistfights during parties are a thing. 

“Uhm, wait,” Yeji tugs onto your sleeve and jerks her head towards the direction of Minho. “I’m sorry but what the hell does your boyfriend want now?”

“Huh where—“

Like..three feet away. Or a whole lot closer. 

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” And you find Minho standing in front of you with his arms crossed stubbornly, eyebrows knitted together and tinted pink cheeks. He looks a little pissed off, and you don’t think you’re both on the same page here. 

When you give him a ‘what do you mean’ look, your roommate feels the need to unlock his phone and jab his index finger against his poor crusty screen as he shows you at least fifty messages that he’s been spamming in the last half an hour. This reminds you of the yellow Post-It note that Minho violently smacked onto your fridge the very night when he first moved in. 

‘I hereby fucking declare that if we did end up going to the same party (doubt btw), we would keep our phones with us 25/8 so one can save the other’s ass from stupid decisions— lee minho’ he wrote. Minho knows all too well the only ass that needs to be saved is his. And you’ve thought about taking the note down several times but you don’t think you’d have the heart to. 

“Oh,” your head draws a blank canvas and you look for your phone in your pocket. But then, “I left my phone in Chan’s car.”

Minho rolls his eyes at you and decides that he’s too impatient to wait for Chan to sober up and remember where he left his keys. “Whatever,” he manages to crack a small smile, one that shines through the dimmed LED light on the ceiling and makes your heart stuck in your throat. “Let’s get out of here, I have something to tell you.” 

“Hey hey hey,” Yeji tries to get up from the couch but her limbs are too wobbly. “You can’t just tap out all of a sudden and steal her from me like that. Don’t even think for a minute you second rate—”

“Yeah, no, she’s mine.”

You’re downright baffled. But you’re not sure if it’s because of what he said ten seconds ago and your heart is going haywire, your brain cells are giving in on you or it’s because he’s tugging you by the wrist and piloting you through the impending chaos of sloppy college students. 

You’re not sure if you want to know. You’re not sure if you’re ready. 

six.

Fall arrives sooner than you thought and it almost makes you miss summer. Though you didn’t really have anything exciting besides an internship that refrained you from living on YouTube for too long. 

The evening is oddly cold, but you’ve never had a problem with the tips of your fingers growing chilly. It’s different tonight—it’s the kind of coldness that slips through your flesh and into your bones, coming in contact with the thumping force of your heart, causing it to shiver. There’s nothing to do but keep your gaze straight forward, your feet moving on their own with the one and only goal of heading home. Clouds with the murky color of wet ashes pass by, and the ground as its dank reflection—a reminder of how humanity is ruining the planet. 

The streets are so quiet and tranquil; you’re afraid that Minho might be able to hear your heartbeat. Now you’re pointing a finger at society in accusation because it’s the weekend yet no elder couples are taking their night strolls, no middle-aged ladies in fluffy jackets are walking their spoiled teacups dogs and no wasted college students are roaming the streets with ‘trouble’ spelled out on their forehead. Really, you’d rather stare at people in a creepy way and zone out than constantly thinking about Lee Minho when he’s right beside you. 

This is terribly suffocating and you don’t think if you can keep this up in the next thirty minutes until both of you get home and melt into the comfort of your bed. 

“Sober up, Mister Celebrity, that’s too much fun for tonight.” Minho winces slightly when you press a can of cold green tea against his cheeks as he’s about to doze off on the wooden bench next to the vending machine. While he’s taking a swig, you feel a silent obligation to take a seat but your eyes are determinedly fixed on the curb. 

The bench suddenly feels far too big and the night breeze is far too cold for Minho’s liking, so he shifts his body closer, fingers brushing over yours and sending electricity down your spine. “What do you mean?” he scoffs, finding it hard to not look at you so his gaze is temporarily glued onto the can of green tea in his palms. “Tonight was nothing compared to Jisung’s birthday.” He can still feel the remaining warmth from your hands, it makes him wonder how it’d feel to actually hold them. 

“Ugh, god,” you shake your head in disbelief, internally cringing. “Don’t even remind me.”

You still don’t know what Hyunjin fed him that day to the point he couldn’t remember what happened. All hell broke loose Felix posted a video of him pretending to be a stupid ostrich and trying to do a mating dance towards Jisung on Twitter. No one dares to talk about that scarred video since. Now that he’s reminded you of it, you wish you didn’t own brain cells in the first place. This is why the internet is scary. 

“What is it that you wanted to tell me anyway?” 

Minho stops for a second at your question and places his beverage down on the bench. He stares distantly at the space ahead as if he’s fighting with himself inside his own head, seriously contemplating something. It’s come to your attention that this isn’t very like his usual self. Minho never hesitates for a second when he has something in mind. Even when he knows that you might rip his head off.

He exhales deeply, turns his head, and makes direct eye contact with you for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are as wide open and honest as a child’s, they possess something so much more the longer you stare at them. A warmth, safety. Your heart is gonna combust if he doesn’t get this over with soon. 

Then, “I think I forgot to put yeast in the batter.” Wait what?

“Minho!” you punch his arm, earning a low grunt from the blond-haired boy. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!” He’s looking at you as though your eyes are turning red with rage and smoke is coming out of your ears, scared for his own life but truthfully, you’re just relieved. Surprisingly. 

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” he asks you with a wide-eyed expression, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. “Aren’t we supposed to bring homemade bread for the get together at the nursing home tomorrow?”

“Old people still enjoy Bingo for some reason, they can have that instead of bread.” His mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he scoots closer to you and you can tell that he reeks off alcohol, which is making you a little dizzy. When your gaze falls elsewhere but Lee Minho, you attempt to appear casual, “But if you wanna bake so badly, I can still pull an all-nighter and start over with you.” That was doable, but you could have done better—should have sounded like you didn’t really care. 

Minho flings his bangs away from his face and tosses his head back, chuckling breathlessly. “Don’t you have a midterm to stress over instead of me? I don’t want you to pick out every single strand of hair on your head after baking with me.” He finally said something nice once in a while, you sorta appreciate it. “It’d be embarrassing when my parents FaceTime me and see you as bald as my great grandfather.” Nevermind, he’s still the same old jerk. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you’ll be moving out in two weeks, either way, right?” Your tone sounds sad and grim all of a sudden; it really dampens the atmosphere because Minho is now looking at you with concern laced in his brown eyes. “Look, I get that it’s bothersome to be my roommate so there’s no need to feel bad. I’ll be fine going back to my old life where my feet don’t get cold in the middle of the night because no one would be there to hog the blanket anymore.”

Minho feels the need to clear things up here. “I never said anything about moving out,” he grabs you by the shoulders and hopes you could just look at him when he’s being serious for once. “Y/N, who even said anything about moving out? Was it the landlord?”

“No,“ you say, still not willing to face him directly. You’re such a coward. 

“If so, why would I move out? Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off or something?”

You’re trying so hard not to snap at this point. “No!”

“Then why can’t you just fucking look at me?!”

“You’re still drunk, let me buy you another—“

Minho shakes you forcefully, hoping to knock some common sense into that brain of yours. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not drunk!” he cries helplessly, not caring about the fact that he’s waking up every cat possible in the neighborhood. “Just- just look at me, will you?”

You stubbornly keep your eyes anywhere but him. “Why would I look at your stupid face?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You’re not usually like this.”

Every single cell inside your body quivers simultaneously when he says so—good god, no, he’s testing you. Minho knows something’s off. Now to think about it again, you’d rather let him dirty your carpet than being put on trial like this.

“You wanna know why I’m acting like this? It’s because of you! You’re making me nervous! It’s your fault for making me feel this way!”

“What?” he blurts, eyes blinking numerous times in disbelief. “What did I ever do to you?”

“God, Minho, you can’t possibly be this dense. Tell me, that you’ve never, not even once, seen me turning beet red when you simply look at me in the eye. Or when you’re just sitting there, laughing your ass off about something stupid. It makes my heart flutter, okay? You make my heart flutter. Do you know how much of an effect you can have on me? You don’t go around juggling with others’ feelings like that,” your voice grows smaller and smaller towards the end until there’s nothing but an oddly comfortable silene floating midair. A sense of relief washes over you; you unknowingly exhale.

Minho stares at you in awe for a moment there, until he also speaks up for himself. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he almost snickers, and this causes you to peel your gaze away from a random bush to gawk at his response. “You’re telling me to not go around juggling with others’ feelings? If anything, you’re the one who keeps messing with my heart. What am I supposed to do? Not get drunk so that I won’t be able to get away for doing dumb things?”

“What dumb things?”

“I don’t know, kiss you?”

“Fuck, you can’t get away with it this time now, can you?”

You’re already regretting this and there’s no turning back. Because when Minho subconsciously runs his tongue over his bottom lips, you’re already fighting the rouge spreading on your cheekbones. He shortens the distance between your heads until your lips are practically a breath away from his. Impatient, you grab a fistful of his shirt to smash your lips against his. Minho stays frozen for a nanosecond, taken aback by your boldness before pulling you closer by the waist. You’re hesitant at first, but he guides you through it, telling you that it’s okay by embracing you more tightly. Dear god, Minho’s kissing you and the world just falls away. It’s slow, comforting in ways that words can never be. He slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, smiling into it when giddiness bubbles up inside his stomach. 

The world still feels like it’s spinning when he parts away, an alcoholic taste mixed with the green tea ghosts your lips, and your face grows ten times hotter. Even in this cracked darkness, Minho sees you blush hard and is fully aware that his cheeks are mirroring yours—he doesn’t even bother to convince himself that it’s from the alcohol, because it isn’t. 

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Minho questions though his breath is still a bit shaky from the kiss. He really didn’t lie when he said that he could never stop bothering you. 

You can’t help but smile at him brightly; this causes his heartbeat to spike inside his chest. “Well, do I have to?” He shakes his head and stares down at your hands until he musters up every strand of courage left to finally intertwine them with his own. Fits like a glove. 

“Come on, let’s go home,” he tells you softly, eyes crinkling into a pretty crescent moon shape. But you stop him right there when he attempts to stand up and wordlessly lean your forehead against his. Minho understands that you simply need a moment so you both hover right there, simply melting into each other’s touch. But what you say next just makes the ignited passion inside his heart flare-up. He’s at a loss for words, utterly speechless. 

“I am home.”

“Welcome home then, Y/N,” Minho whispers.

Everything feels like a dream that you’d never want to wake up from. His hands are clasped on either side of your face, resting just below the lobes of your ears. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks so that you won’t drift away, your breaths mingling. Never before has your own name made your heart flutter. But you guess it’s only because Minho said it. You do know that it’s not an afterthought, nor out of impulse. It’s a promise, for whatever’s coming your way on this path, he’s never gonna leave you behind. And the moment he feels that thing beating inside his chest is in sync with yours, he slowly leans in again.

Albert Einstein once said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love. And you have every right to argue with him in the afterlife because you’ve confirmed that Minho is your gravity. Gravity keeps you grounded, always get a hold of you so that you won’t ever have to wander off too far away. It’s there for you but it doesn’t have to act like it cares. Minho’s kinda like that too—he picked you up every time you said you’re good walking home, he only stocked up the stash of candies to secretly feed your midnight cravings. They only differ so much where his heartbeat for you is loud, undaunted and he loves you fearlessly; nothing shall meddle with his feelings for you as long as the way your eyes light up when they meet his doesn’t change. 

Before you met Minho, you didn’t know that it was possible to just look at someone and smile for no reason. The way his lips curl up when he smiles, his sarcastic remarks, his kindhearted nature though he’s awfully good at hiding it. That’s what people do when they’re in love, they say—to fawn over the littlest things but they’re what makes you fall so hard for him. But as time passes by, you’ve learned that it’s actually quite nice to be in love with someone. Because then, you get to spend your time and effort on their happiness as well, not just your own. In exchange, that person is capable of bringing colors to your dull world, tearing down your walls, and showing you just how beautiful life can be. Surely, Minho might not stay by your side forever in this crazy game of Monopoly but you’d risk it all for him even if the sky comes crashing and the universe turns upside down. 

After all, you can’t love alone. 

#stayshub #skzwritersclub #stray kids lee know #stray kids scenarios #lee know imagines #stray kids imagines #lee know scenarios #stray kids minho #minho roommate au #minho college au #lino fic #lee minho #lee know #college au #roommate au

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Akio

CW: References to the death of a friend, grief, suicide, murder 

Sequel to Found Out and this past flashback to Oliver Branch

The sound of thin, breaded pork cutlets frying in the big pan on the stove fills the air, and Akio breathes in the familiar smell where he lays on his back on his parents’ gigantic cream-colored sectional couch, stretched out across the whole length of it on one side. Not that he’s all that tall to take up all that much space, really, but what matters is that he would definitely have fallen asleep by now if it weren’t for holding his phone up over his face.

It fell on him, once, and he’s pretty sure no one noticed. Emi, his younger sister, hasn’t even looked up once from her own phone, except once to triumphantly announce that no one caught her and they all voted someone else off the ship. Then she looked back down and never looked back up.

Akio frowns, looking at his own screen, tapping his thumbs as he writes out an answer to the person messaging him. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes?” His mother looks up from cooking, her eyes moving through the big open space right to him. They’d knocked down all the walls when they bought the house, open-concept-something-something. Akio didn’t care, but it was apparently deeply important to his parents. Something about family togetherness.

“You remember Tristan Higgs, right?”

Aimi pauses, tucks a bit of her short black hair behind one ear to get it out of her eyes as she flips the pork cutlets on by one, to get the other side nicely browned, too. The sizzling ratchets up in volume and then back down again. Next to her sits four bowls already filled with rice, and the table already has the vegetables ready to go. “Of course, honey. Oh, the anniversary’s coming up, isn’t it? I have an alarm set on my phone… did you want to go to the cemetery next week to see Ronnie and Paul?”

“Ew, no creepy graveyards for me, thanks,” Emi says, eyes still glued to her phone.

“We wouldn’t take you anyway,” Akio says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t even remember Tris or his parents.”

“I do, too. I was like seven. He was really nice. Mrs. Higgs was really nice, too. Mr. Higgs was weird.” 

“Wow, what a stellar eulogy that was, Emi. I can see why you want to be a writer when you grow up. The description there was just incredible.”

“Oh, go drive into a lake,” Emi says, without any particular rancor in her voice. 

“If you’re going to fight, I’m going to send you two upstairs so I at least don’t have to listen to it,” Aimi says, moving the cutlets to rest on a paper plate with paper towels lining it while she heats mirin, soy sauce, and… some other stuff in a different pan. Honestly, Akio has no idea exactly how katsudon happens, all he cares about is that it’s the perfect after-practice food and he is starving.

Except he keeps getting distracted by this guy on Insta. “Anyway, Mom, um, about Tris. So… yeah, I do want to go out and see his parents next week, yeah, but-... there’s this guy on Instagram who keeps asking about him. That’s… that’s weird, right?”

Aimi looks up, blinking. “Asking about Tristan? What is he asking?”

“Just like… he says he saw the video I put up on youtube, and he’s asking, like… what was his birthday, and did he like fried chicken, was he autistic, and… did he like musical soundtracks. This is weird stuff to ask a total stranger, right?”

“A little.” Aimi pauses while she watches the pan, and then pours a small bowl with beaten eggs into it, watching them spread and start to lighten to a puffy yellow as it cooked in the already-boiling liquid mixture. “Did you ask why he wants to know?”

“I did, but he just said he’s doing some research or something. But, like… research on what?” Akio taps on the guy’s little profile photo, bringing the profile itself up. “His username is benthebadmagician. Okay that’s-... that’s kind of cute.” 

Aimi’s voice turns sly. “Is this Ben cute?” 

“Ugh, gross, Mom. That’s not-... I mean he’s kind of-... that’s not important.”

“Ooooh, eyeballin’ the insta-hotties,” Emi singsongs. “Aki’s gettin’ desperate. Just get a freaking dating app like everyone else.”

“Already on it, Emi.”

“Then why exactly don’t you get any dates? Oh, right.” Emi sits forward and grins. “I forgot about your personality.”

Akio throws a throw pillow at her and the big orange poof misses by a mile. Emi laughs, getting to her feet and wandering over to the fridge, pulling a can of soda out and popping the top. “Aren’t you an athlete, how the hell did you miss that?”

“Language,” Aimi warns, waving a spoon at her daughter. She gently places the cutlets into the cooking eggs to finish up. “No swearing under my roof, young lady.”

“Aki swears all the time!”

“Aki is twenty-four years old,” Aimi says, almost primly. “And he doesn’t swear where I can hear him.”

“What, so it doesn’t count if you don’t hear him?”

“Of course it doesn’t, how do I know if I don’t hear him?”

Akio smiles, faintly, but he’s scrolling through the Ben guy’s instagram feed now. Just looking at the grid of squares, photos and videos. Lots of coffees and food, people laughing, photos of a girl with really pretty hair. Photos of Ben the Bad Magician himself. Nerd, Akio thinks, but cute nerd - definitely nose-in-a-book type. Nice brown hair, nice smile. 

“Oh look at that face,” Emi says, eyebrows raised. “Ben the Insta-Weirdo actually is cute huh?”

“Go eat slugs.” Akio keeps scrolling down and down, not sure what he’s looking for. Autism awareness banners - he checks those to learn the Ben guy’s got an autistic little brother, and his friend Christopher is autistic. There’s a couple slides, and he swipes his finger to what he assumes is a photo of the Ben guy with the little brother, who looks almost exactly like him, just a whole bunch younger and looking, unsmiling, off to one side while Ben grins at the camera.

Akio doesn’t bother checking the last slide - it’s probably just whoever the Chris guy is. He backs back out to the grid of thumbnails. Maybe he just picked up on the stuff Tris always did when he was excited, and got curious? Maybe his little brother liked the video? Akio’s gotten a couple comments from people saying they liked seeing an autistic kid just be fucking happy in public without getting shit on for it, and that used to be a big deal for Mrs. Higgs, too...

The question about musicals keeps snagging at him. Tris loved musicals, went through cycles with them. He and Akio had a whole routine done to a song in Hairspray, just for fun, when Tris was obsessed with that for a while. And then they were going to do the Time Warp as a routine once...

Akio keeps scrolling, only vaguely aware of his sister and mother talking, and Emi leaving the room to go call their dad in for dinner. 

Emi stops in the doorway and turns back. “Don’t forget to get his phone number, Aki. You can definitely trust strangers on the internet creepily interested in your dead best friend, right?”

Akio looks up, then, blinking at her. “Emi, that’s-...”

She seems to catch herself, and gives him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Aki. That got bitchy.”

“Language,” Aimi reminds her. “But I appreciate you apologizing. Does anyone even hear me say to use nice language any longer?”

“No,” Akio and Emi say in unison, and then Emi disappears down the hallway, bellowing for their father in her loudest voice even though she could easily walk up the stairs and not have to yell at all. 

Akio looks at his mother and deadpans, “Your daughter is really weird.”

Aimi matches him tone for tone. “Your sister is weirder.” 

She places the cutlets on top of the rice bowls with the egg just underneath the meat, carrying them one by one to the table, setting them each down in their place, and then grabs her glass of wine, patiently waiting for her while she cooked. She pads on bare feet across the hardwood floor over to the pale white rug, soft as down underfoot, and stands next to where Akio is laying down. “Are you looking at the profile?”

“I am, yeah. I don’t know what I’m looking for, really, just… hey, wait.” Akio stops at the thumbnail preview for a video, tapping to open it up. It starts with a blue-haired boy smiling, and his smile hits Akio all odd, makes his throat tighten and his heart start to race. The boy in the video puts up a finger and backs up, glances over his shoulder at a TV screen behind him playing the tango scene from Rent. 

Akio blinks as the boy holds out a hand and a girl with really gorgeous long wavy hair takes it, the two of them moving effortlessly into a perfect mimicry of the dance on screen. The room they’re in is mostly empty, furniture shoved to the walls to turn what looks like some kind of lobby into a dancing space.

“Wow, that kid can really dance,” Akio murmurs, but the smile catches him, tugs at the back of his mind. The blue-haired boy can’t keep the grin off his face, it has to hurt to smile so big for so long, and the last person Akio thought that about was…

“You got this, Chris!” Someone calls from offscreen, and for a second Akio hears Tris and catches his breath, but no, no, they said Chris. Someone else claps for Mari - that must be the girl, maybe. 

They continue to dance, and Akio can’t tear his eyes away. “Mom? Do you see this?”

Aimi looks up from straightening some magazines on the coffee table and leans over, sipping her wine absently. “See what, honey?”

“Look,” Akio whispers. His throat is closing up, he can’t manage anything more than that. 

The two do a spin, and then burst out laughing, and the Chris boy stands back up straight, throwing his arms up like he’s just hit a perfect landing-

“Oh my god,” Aimi says next to him, her own voice strangled and choked, and Akio feels his mother’s hand suddenly clutch onto his shoulder. “Aki, is-”

“He’s dead,” Akio whispers. “He killed himself after his parents-... he’s dead, Mom.”

The Chris boy looks right at whoever was filming the video, shoots them a brilliant, shining smile, and then starts rocking, his hands moving through the air and twisting at the wrists, bouncing up and down on his toes.

Akio’s breath is shuddering in and out, and his heart pounds, trying to break out of his chest. “He’s-... Mom, he’s dead.”

“His aunt had him cremated,” Aimi says, but her lips are barely moving and the wineglass is loos in her fingers. “After they found him. She didn’t want a funeral.”

“He’s dead,” Akio repeats, thinking of the smile, the movements, the shy way he ducks his head at the end when people clap him on the back. He backs up to the wall again, keeps scrolling, looks for more pictures of the blue hair. He opens every single one he can find, searching for something, some sign that will tell him he’s not seeing what he knows he’s seeing. “His aunt took his phone away after like three months and then he was dead a month later, wasn’t he?”

There’s a pause.

“Mom? Mom, didn’t he kill himself like four months after they died? Didn’t he?” Akio’s voice sounds weak and is getting weaker. “Mom, please-... please answer me, didn’t he-”

“He left a note,” Aimi whispers. “His aunt-... she said he left a note, that he couldn’t live without them. It’s-... I never thought-... I never thought to question her, Aki, I never-... she was Ronnie’s family...”

He clicks another video.

“You’re a fucking mess, Christopher,” The girl from the dance video says, sitting in a tank tops and shorts on the edge of a bathtub. “Letting your roots grow out like that. But don’t you worry, Madam Mari is here to help!”

“Please don’t, don’t don’t-don’t call yourself Madam. Please?” A voice says, uneasily, and the blue-haired boy moves into the screen. “For, for, for me?”

“Yeah, no problem, Chris. Why’d you let it grow out so bad, anyway?”

His hair’s not blue in this one - or it is, but only about half of it. Pale and faded, but the top of his hair has grown back in for about three inches, and it’s coppery strawberry blond. He turns to the camera and gives a sheepish smile. “I, I got distracted and for, um, forgot.”

Aimi’s wineglass slips from her fingers, hits the floor, sprays wine like blood across the pristine white rug. 

Neither of them notices.

“I… I cried for him for like a year straight,” Akio chokes out, and he finds more pictures, more videos, more more more. He opens them up and then backs out of them again, unable to stop himself. Every photo shows him some shard of the mirror reflection of a dead boy all grown up - a sparkle of green eyes, happy motions in the background of a video, more of that familiar sunny smile. “I kept-... I kept all the stuff he left in my room, I saved all h-his text messages from before he d, disappeared, I-”

“This can’t be him,” Aimi says in a fierce whisper. “It can’t be, Aki, it can’t.”

Akio taps on another video.

The boy ties his long blue hair back in it, glancing sidelong at the camera, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And, and, and you’ll, um, you’ll buy the, the, the-the-the nachos?”

“If you can still do it? Yeah, absolutely. Seeing that’s worth a plate of nachos to me. I’ll even buy you those fucking margaritas you like.”

“Chris just likes the sugar,” Someone else says, and Chris sticks his tongue out at them.

He takes a few steps back, rolling his shoulders, shaking out his arms. 

Akio tells himself that if the Chris on the screen doesn’t nail this, it can’t be him, it can’t be him at all. 

The boy puts his hands up, then down at his sides, back bowed briefly in a motion Akio knows too, too well, knows better than he knows breathing. The boy takes off across the grass without hesitation and-

Akio and Aimi both exhale.

-he jumps forward, dips at the waist, catches himself on his hands and does a perfect set of three backflips across a big grassy lawn, stumbling the landing but his feet pop right back into final position, and he throws his arms up with his chin lifted, and someone offscreen shouts, “Perfect Ten, Stanton!”

The boy laughs, shakes his head, says, “I’d be, be, be dinged for the, um, the landing, but-... but, but good, right? I did good? Laken?”

Someone with the coolest hair Akio has seen steps into the screen and they hug, kiss briefly, and then Chris apparently can’t handle the happy emotions because he backs away to start bouncing up and down, grinning.

He looks back at the camera. “Want to see me, me, me... me do it again?”

“He’s not dead,” Aimi says, and her voice sounds like someone closed their hands around her throat. “Oh, Ronnie-”

“What the fuck happened to Tristan fucking Higgs?” Akio’s voice is barely audible over the sound of the video starting over. “He’s… he’s not dead. He’s not dead, Mom, he’s not-... he’s not dead, Mom, he’s not dead and he’s right-... that the university, right? He’s not dead, and he’s, has he-... has he been here the whole fucking time?”

His mother doesn’t chide him for language this time. Her hand tightens on Akio’s shoulder as red wine soaks the rug beneath her feet and she whispers, “Give that Ben boy your number. Tell him to call you.”

Her fingernails ache where they dig into his skin through his shirt.

“Now.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript

#chris the strawberry blond romantic #akio nakamura #hidden whumpee #found whumpee #trauma recovery #parental death mention #death mention #suicide mention #angst #bbu #box boy #box boy universe

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #439

“all the other kids with the pumped up kicks, you better run, better run, outrun my gun”

Have you written a letter to a soldier? No. Ever been in a perfect relationship? I thought so. But no, those don't exist. The last song you listened to? "Broadcasting From Beyond" by Motionless In White. Have you ever wished you could hurt somebody as much as they hurt you? I... have, but I don't wish that at all anymore. Has a dentist ever screwed up on anything when working on you? No. Would you rather be a successful writer or artist? Artist. Who are you in love with? Nobody. Does someone’s view on homosexuality affect how you feel about them in any way? It sure as fuck does. How about someone’s view on religion? Nah. Well, usually. It depends on the beliefs themselves and to what extremity. What is something you wear that others might consider unfashionable? Flipflops, like... year-round, lmao. What kind of pill did you last take? It's called Lamictal, the catalyst for my primary mood stabilizer. Do you like wearing glasses? No. I'd wear contacts if I had the patience and non-shaky hands. What first comes to mind when thinking of 10th grade? Jason. -_- That's the year we started dating. What’s the scariest thing that’s happened to you? A traumatic breakup. Has an ambulance ever came to your house? Yes, for my mother. The person you’re thinking about - what are you thinking about them? Well, because you mentioned him, I'm thinking about Jason and just how I fucked shit up 'n stuff. How many different cars have you driven? Uhhhh I want to say two? But maybe just one? Was the last person you hung out with single? I guess that would be my mom, in which case yes. Have you ever attended a private school? My last college was a private school, yes. Have you ever been in an abusive relationship? No, and for that I am incredibly grateful. Have you ever cooked for anyone other than yourself? Yeah. I've made scrambled eggs for my family before as breakfast, and I did the same for Sara, too. Would you rather live in the city, the suburbs, or the rural area? Ugh, take me back to the middle of nowhere, please. :/ Do you know someone who is really ambidextrous? Sara! Are you adopted? No. Who was the last person that cried in your presence? Probably one of my nieces or nephew. Can you write your name in a foreign language? Uh, I think? In the German alphabet, "y" isn't actually a letter, and my name is Brittany, so I'm not entirely sure if it would be spelled that same way or not, but I think so. Who is the person you often go to for venting? My mom. Was the last person you kissed male or female? Female. Do you say “I love you” even when you don’t mean it? No. That shit can scar people (aka me) so goddamn deep when they don't mean it anymore. What’s the one thing you regret more than anything? Things I wrote to Jason in letters after the breakup. I would literally give a limb (no, I'm not exaggerating) to take it back. There are times I actually do wonder if we would've gotten back together if I wasn't just... a bitter and ridiculously hurt fuck that took it all out on him. Do you like vanilla? Yes. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. I actually do want one for my extra room/"office," though, to read on. Have you kissed any friends on your Facebook? Yeah. Do you get snow where you live? Occasionally, but it's very rarely a lot. What’s your favorite flavor of Doritos? Cool Ranch. Do you ever worry about what the world will be like when you have kids? Good thing I ain't havin' 'em. Have you ever seen a hippo in person? Yes. Do you like the band A Skylit Drive? I've actually only heard their "Love The Way You Lie" cover, which I do like. Have you ever been to any professional sports games? Yeah, with my dad. What’s the most boring sport to watch? Golf. But I don't particularly enjoy any. Do you like lip rings on the opposite sex? MHMMMMMMMMMMMMM. If you suddenly went deaf, what would be your most missed sound? Music. Would you rather have a poodle or a Rottweiler? If I actually wanted a dog, a Rottweiler. Which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain? Emotional, for sure. Would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum? Zoo. Would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes? I know damn well I'd say yes to Jason in a heartbeat. Literally before even getting to know the current him. That's how emotionally attached I am to him, even with the trauma. I'd get back together with Sara if/when we both are more stable emotionally and with clear direction, which is mostly on my end now. I also don't think I'd be ready until one of us is able to move for the other. Is there a certain quote you live by? No. Do you have any tattoos? I have some, but not nearly enough. :( Are you friends with the last person you kissed? She's my bestie! :') Green or purple grapes? I don't really have much of a preference, so long as they're crisp. What is your ringtone? Just something that came with the phone. If someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you? Fuck no. What is something you wish you had more of? Adventure, for one. Have you ever trusted someone too much? JASON. HOLY FUCK. It was FACT to me that we would, could, never break up. It just... wasn't possible in my head. It was like breaking the laws of the world. When he told me he loved me and would never leave, I believed that shit as if it was God himself promising that. I've never and will never trust someone like that ever again, because it wasn't healthy in the slightest. Do you sleep with your window open? Noooo, that would freak me out. Have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring? Yeah; Tyler had snakebites. Did you go to high school with your current best friend? No; we live in different states. Whose was the last funeral you attended? Ummm I'm actually not sure. Do you avoid using public restrooms? Yes. Do you like eggnog? Nooooo. Who is the person you dislike the most? It's so fucking stupid... I know it is STILL the girl Jason dated after me. I don't even think they're together anymore, so why the fuck does it matter? I know NOTHING about this poor girl that just found someone she really liked and got dumped FOR THE SAME REASON AS ME. It shouldn't fucking matter, at all, but it still does in my head. Do you take part in paying the bills for your household? No, because I don't have an income. What is your favourite way to eat rice? As pork fried rice. What is the longest relationship you’ve ever been in? Over 3 1/2 years with Jason. Do you currently have any alarms set? No. How many cars can fit in your driveway? Barely even two. What was the first television show you were obsessed with? Pokemon. Do you eat chili when you get a hotdog, or do you like it plain? I don't like chili. Would you ever tell your mom about the things you’ve done sexually? Not EVERYTHING, no. I wouldn't tell her anything at all unless she asked. I don't like talking about that stuff. Have you ever been in a car wreck? Yes. Has anyone ever told you that they think you have ADHD? Yes, which was absolutely, utterly ridiculous. Has anyone ever called you a sociopath before? No. Has anyone ever taken your own clothes off you before? Yes. Is there someone you want to kiss right now? Probably always will. -_- Have you ever had a real tea party? Or been to one? Ha ha no, but my little sister used to love to have little ones with her Disney princesses plastic tea set. She would always ask Mom or me to have one with her. Have you been called a tease? Only playfully. Did you kiss the last person you really wanted to kiss? Yes. Would you ever go to a protest or be involved in a protest? So long as it was peaceful, yes. When playing rock, paper, scissors, which do you usually pick? Scissors. Have you ever tried to write a book? Yes, when I was younger. Have you ever been hit by a chunk of hail? No. Is it true that if you don’t love yourself, you can’t love another? Absofuckinglutely not. I'm proof of that. That idea is such bullshit. Do you share a bed with anyone? Just my cat. Who is one very unique celebrity/musician/whatever that you love? MARKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK. Could you handle babysitting two small children at once, such as two children under three years old? OH FUCK NO. Would you say that people consider you a major flirt? Definitely not. Do any of your friends have children? Yes. Would you rather cry in public or make someone else cry in public? I would FAR rather cry myself. I would feel so, so bad for making someone else cry, not even just in public. Would you rather re-live today forever or not live? Not live. Would you rather be just rich or rich and famous? Just rich. Who was the last person of the opposite sex to be in your bedroom? My nephew, I believe. He and Aubree wanted to see the snake. What’s your favourite kind of Cap’N Crunch? The "All Berries" one. What is your favourite Pepsi product? Mountain Dew. Is the computer you’re using yours? Yes. Do you get upset when a dog jumps on you? Not at all. I got used to that, and besides, it's cute to see them so excited. Is there a video or computer game that you can get lost in for hours? World of Warcraft, sometimes. I usually play it daily, but there are some days where I just am not interested in it. What do you like on your pizza? Meats and/or jalapenos. Do you get breadsticks with your pizza? Mom usually gets 'em, yeah. Did you ever have a waterbed? Yeah. Not one anyone slept on regularly, but just like, a plastic one or whatever the material was to sleep in if someone was staying over. What toy from your childhood do you miss? I wish I didn't get rid of my big crocodile toy that I was obsessed with. :'( He was like the main character in the world I made up for him and his family. Have you ever been to a rock concert? Yeah. \m/ What is your religion? None. Do you like listening to love songs? Meh, I have to be in the mood, plus it depends on the song. A lot of them trigger me. What is one meal that you like to eat while sick? I'm nervous to eat when I'm sick, so I mostly just have saltine crackers and ginger ale. Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? Yeah, when I was a kid and didn't know it was bad for them and the water. I never would now. The name of the last board game that you played? I think it was "Sorry!" with the kids. Has anyone ever commented on your weight? I mean, doctors, but not in a judgmental, belittling way. Just in a way that expressed concern for my health. Have you ever thought about joining the military? NOOOOOOOOOO. Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? Yes. And I don't mean that as an exaggeration; I believe I've literally qualified as insane at a point after the breakup. I was so fucking delusional and desperate and just going in circles. Are you ever jealous of happy couples? Meh, sometimes. Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? Take a guess. .-. It's been pretty bad lately. Do you ever feel like someone would be disappointed to see your body or are you comfortable with your body enough where you don’t think that? I have a HORRIBLE body image. My body fucking disgusts me. I don't even like my mother seeing me get changed or anything like that. I don't want ANYBODY seeing me naked. What is your favorite flavor of Monster? I don't like any that I've ever had a sip of. Have you ever ran from the police? No. That never goes well. Do you have any trophies? Yeah. Do you like screamo music? No. What does your wallet look like? It's a checkered Harley Quinn one. Is there something nobody knows about you (and what)? Yes. Why would I share that if I don't want anyone to know? Does your family have a secret? No. Do you do anything to help the environment? We recycle. Mom also cuts up those plastic things that come with soda bottles packed together, as well as some other plastic wrappings. We are both disgusted by people who litter, so we avoid that. I also try to conserve water where I can, like by turning the sink off when I brush my teeth. There are other little things, but I wish I did even more. Do you like to take pictures of yourself? FUCK NO. It is so rare I do that nowadays. When/where are you most likely to sing? The car. Would you ever wish to explore a cave? OH MY GOD, PLEEEEEAAAAASE <3 What is the most illegal thing you’ve done? Pirated an expensive editing software, oops. :x Have you ever seen somebody get shot? LKJ;ALSDJFA;JWELKRJLW;Q NOOOOOOOOO.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''pumped up kicks'' by 3teeth

[arckook]

around and around - six

pairing: cho seungyoun x reader, kim wooseok x reader

au: idolverse

warnings: none

wordcount: 5.4k

description: you’ve had a one-sided crush on your close friend seungyoun for who knows how long, but things don’t stay so black and white when he introduces you to his new groupmate kim wooseok.

next

The air is especially cold today.

It whips through your hair, and bites at your cheeks, turning them pink. You stuff your hands deeper into the pockets of your long padded jacket, curling up your fingers. A harsh, hot breath slips past your lips, showing up in front of you like smoke.

You sit by the river, watching people walk over that familiar bridge, watching the doors of shops and restaurants open and close on the other side, watching lights blink off through apartment windows as time passes. You sit in silence and watch.

You think a group of young teenagers recognize you at one point. The girls giggle and point at you, and make comments about how pretty you are just loud enough that you think they must be hoping you’ll notice and come to greet them. The boys remark that you’re not as pretty without makeup on. 

Earlier, you called your mom. You had the intention to tell her about how heavy your heart has been lately, how you don’t know what to do, that you need advice. But she spilled her worries to you instead, about money and debt and your dad’s health. So you just told her you’d send her money next time you get paid, and wished her well, and hung up. Without saying a word about your problems.

It’s not that they’re bottled up, or that nobody knows but you. Because Jiseo, Eunmi, and Soohyun all know. They’ve been watching over you carefully, despite all their personal things going on too. Even your managers, who don’t know the specifics, have been tiptoeing around you.

It’s not just the air that’s cold.

You feel cold inside, too.

You pull your phone out after a while, turning it on to check the time. It’s a little past midnight. You’ve been here for a couple of hours.

After some thought, you unlock your phone and open your text messages, two names at the top. 

You changed Seungyoun’s contact name from Youn to Cho Seungyoun, as per Jiseo’s request. You’re trying to distance yourself from him, in the smallest ways. When you open his messages, there are probably around fifteen different texts, all asking for you to answer him, or telling you he’s sorry in some way. 

The other one says Wooseok-oppa. You didn’t change that one. When you open his, there is only one message from his side. 

Y/N-ah. I want to talk. Meet me at the first restaurant we went to at ten, tonight. The budae-jjigae place.

He sent it this morning. You never answered.

You sigh, turning your phone off and tucking it away again as you stand up. 

You don’t want to think about these things, but they won’t leave you alone. 

You know it’s not brave, and it’s not the right thing to do, but these days, you don’t care.

You ignore them.

-

L/N F/N, fatigue obvious even with a mask on

1. [+560, -105] Ah… can’t an idol control their expressions? You’re making money off of your fans and you can’t even smile at the airport? Y/N-ah, let’s work harder...

2. [+555, -42] Looking at her expression pisses me off

3. [+463, -23] What the… did she dress herself??? Someone fire her coordi

4. [+40, -4] Soohyun is the pretty one in this group

5. [+29, -12] Yah, everyone leaving hate comments… do you not feel tired at the airport??? We don’t know what’s going on in her life.

                 > Brainless fan

You scroll down the article, reading the comments people have left about you. The four of you just arrived back in Korea from a concert abroad, and the photos from the airport yesterday have already been posted. 

Your teeth latch onto your lower lip, chewing and pulling the top layer of skin off, blood pooling up in tiny spots. It’s a metallic, bitter taste when you run your tongue over it. 

“Don’t look at those kind of things,”

You look up, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of your mouth when Wooseok sits down in front of you, his fingers gently pushing your phone down onto the table. 

It took a lot of worked up courage to finally text him back a few weeks later, apologizing for the long time between his first message and your response, and asking if he still wanted to meet up when you return to Korea. But he said yes regardless.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit, turning your phone off. “It’s hard, though. I get curious.”

Wooseok nods, settling into his chair. “I know the feeling.”

“Do you ever look?” you ask, that curiosity making an appearance. He has been an idol a lot longer than you. “Or did you, if you don’t now?”

He glances away, a somewhat burdened half-smile painting his face. “I always do, even if I tell myself not to. People had a lot to say about me at one point. I guess I like seeing positive things, since they’re more common nowadays.”

You rest your chin on your hand, watching him despite the way he avoids meeting your eyes. “You deserve that. It must have been hard.”

Wooseok sighs deeply, shaking his head like he’s shaking off memories. “It was. I have different problems now.”

“What can I get for the two of you today?” you look up to find a middle-aged woman with an apron on, no pen and paper in sight. Her accent is obvious, but it kind of calms you. You’re far away from Seoul, in a small town about a twenty-minute drive from Busan. The beach is nearby; you could smell the salty breeze when you walked up to this diner. 

“I’ll have a bowl of kalguksu,” you tell her, having looked at the menu while waiting for Wooseok.

“Pork rice soup, please,” Wooseok says without missing a beat. You think he’s just assuming they make that here. “And a seafood pancake to share.”

“It’ll be out soon,” the waitress tells you with a kind smile, walking back to the kitchen.

The place is fairly busy, but it’s mostly fishermen and other elderly, who don’t care to pay attention to a couple of young people sitting in the back corner. 

It feels good. It feels like you don’t have to hide here.

“How was the concert?” Wooseok asks, bringing you back from your thoughts.

You shrug, tugging at your fingers to crack the knuckles. “It was good. Fun.”

“You seem tired,” he comments, and you let out a somewhat bitter chuckle.

“Doesn’t everyone think so?”

Wooseok frowns. “Are you talking about that article? Y/N-ah, I told you, it’s not worth it to look at those.”

You sigh. “Oppa, I’m feeling really burnt out lately,” you slump over onto the table like a kid who’s about to fall asleep, avoiding looking directly at him. “And I don’t know what to do about anything.”

“Is that why you ignored me?” he asks, with a direct tone that you weren’t expecting. You look up, eyes wide. “Because you don’t know what to do about anything?”

You sit up, frowning. “I don’t… that was…”

Wooseok’s expression is vague, like it tends to be. “I can tell that something happened with Seungyoun. You never shut yourself off like that, and he went from moping about and constantly doing all these deep sighs to acting completely normal again- and yet he wouldn’t say anything about his personal life to me. When he was sneaking out, it wasn’t to see you, was it?”

“He was sneaking out to see someone?” you question, the words weak and tight in your throat.

“That’s what you think is important about this?” Wooseok replies, his eyebrows drawing together in a clear show of frustration. 

You look away, turning your head to watch the patrons mingle in the diner.

The air feels heavy.

“…I’m not upset,” Wooseok finally says after a moment of thick silence. You glance over at him without moving your head, tugging on your fingers in your lap. He stares to the side. “I just don’t understand why you want to run from me.” his eyes flash to you for just a second. “I’m not Seungyoun.”

You nearly flinch at his name. “…I know you’re not,” you respond, your voice airy and quiet. 

“Then what do I have to do with your conflicts with him?” Wooseok questions, the volume of his voice rising a little with each word. “You and I exist outside of you and I and him.” he really looks at you this time. “Do we not?” 

“...I’m sorry,” you say after a moment, your voice cracking. “I know I’m a shitty friend. You do so much more for me than I ever do for you. I shouldn’t have ignored you. I just… I feel really lost, and that’s all I can think about right now.”

It’s quiet again. 

“Y/N-ah,” Wooseok says hesitantly, and you meet his gaze.

It surprises you, how tender he looks in that moment. His eyes aren’t sharp like they were a moment ago, the dim light strikes his cheekbones and makes him even handsomer than he already is. He has no makeup, nothing in his hair. He looks plain, and yet Wooseok is anything but plain to you.

“You have to be a stronger person than this,” he says, as a statement. “I know how hard this life is. We chose a hard life-” he stops himself, swallows, takes a deep breath. “It’s hard, but-”

“Wooseok-oppa,” you cut him off, something pulling at your heartstrings. “You already told me that we’re the same. You said you keep things to yourself, too.” you pause, reaching over and placing your hand on the fist he has knotted up atop the table. “You don’t have to solve my problems. Let’s just be a little lost together.”

He tilts his head to the left, a doubtful smirk appearing for a moment along with a chuckle of disbelief. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh,” you respond simply, at which he laughs. “Let’s eat some food, and walk on the beach. We can just pretend all the stuff that’s bothering us doesn’t exist.”

Wooseok opens his hand up under yours, so that you can hold it. “If that’s what you want.”

-

“No, like this,” you tell Jiseo, pulling your foot behind you in a quick rond-de-jambe and leaving your upper body facing front as long as you can before turning along with your foot in a quick, swift movement.

“Fucking fuck!” Jiseo groans, dropping down into a squat and looking at you through the mirror. “My stiff, old body doesn’t move like that, Y/N.”

You give her an unimpressed look, hands on your hips. “You’re only two years older than me, unnie.”

“Whatever,” she sighs, slumping over onto the ground. “I don’t wanna have a comeback yet. I’m tired. And they rejected my song for the title track. So now we have to do this shit instead.”

“What, you don’t like the song?” you ask, sitting down next to her. “I do. It’s fun!”

“You think it’s fun because you actually like it when we have hard choreography,” Jiseo grumbles. 

You reach over and pat her stomach, laughing when she lets out a dramatic cough. “I’m sorry your song didn’t get picked. I really liked that one too.”

Jiseo sighs. “Maybe next time.”

Ding!

“Is that yours or mine?” Jiseo asks, not looking like she’d get up either way.

“I’ll check,” you say, getting up with some effort since your legs are pretty tired from dancing all day. 

You walk over to the couch at the back of the studio, taking out your phone from your bag first and turning it on. Lo and behold, it was yours.

Wooseok-oppa

*sent image*

Yah, did you get locked up again? 

You chuckle, opening the text to see a screenshot of your instagram story, where you’d posted a picture of you in the dance studio. It’s the same one where Wooseok hung out with you that day, so you can see why he might think that way.

You

not this time hahaha

“What are you giggling about over there?” Jiseo calls out. You glance at her over your shoulder with a grin, and hold up your phone. 

“Unnie, smile!” 

“Huh-”

Click!

You laugh maniacally as Jiseo groans about not being ready for a photo, and repeatedly questioning why you took it and who you’re sending it to.

You

*sent image*

with my bestie

Wooseok-oppa

Make sure to eat. 

You

you too, oppa~~~~

“Just start dating already,”

You nearly jump out of your skin, not having noticed that Jiseo got up and started reading off your phone over your shoulder. You groan, shoving her away.

“Leave me alone.”

She sticks out her tongue. “You sent him a shitty, ugly picture of me so I’ll take all the revenge I want.”

“That’s just what you look like all the time, though.”

“Yah!”

Ding!

“Hold on,” you mutter as Jiseo begins whining about you being a brat again. You check to see if Wooseok replied, but it wasn’t him who texted you.

Jamiezzz

yo 

ik things are kinda weird between you and seungyoun

but 

we are all gathering tonight at that one restaurant with the all you can eat barbeque 

just come a little later and he’ll be wasted so you don’t even have to talk  

You sigh as you read your friend’s texts, wondering how she can even tell that you and Seungyoun haven’t been on good terms. Or any terms at all, basically. 

You set your phone back in your bag, stretching out your neck and shoulders. You’ll respond to that later.

“Unnie,” you call out. “Let’s start from the top again.”

-

Hours later, you’re staring at Jimin’s texts while lying on your bed, holding your phone up above your face. Your nose is in extreme danger because of this position, but that’s part of the fun of it.

You chuck your phone to the end of your bed, roll over, and stuff your face in your pillow, groaning.

You are very, very scared at the idea of seeing Seungyoun face-to-face. How does Jimin even know that he’ll get drunk tonight? If he’s totally sober, which he tends to be, you can’t even imagine how awkward things will get as soon as you arrive. But if you text and ask if he is, then that seems weird too.

But damn, does all you can eat BBQ sound really good right now. You’re going to have to sneak, and probably walk off some of the weight afterwards so it doesn’t seem like you ate a lot to your manager, but whatever.

In a sudden movement, you spring off of your bed and walk over to your handheld mirror, holding it up to your face.

“Fuck,” you say under your breath. Your makeup looks so crusty right now. Do you really want to redo that, and fix your hair, and make a whole outfit, and risk and embarrassment and shame and anxiety… just for a good deal on dinner?

Well, yeah. You were raised right.

And that place was some of the best beef you’ve had in your young adult life.

You sit down at your desk, fixing up your makeup with some rosewater spray, fresh concealer and lipstick, then pulling your hair up into one of those purposefully messy buns in an attempt to make it look good.

You throw on a haphazard outfit, only caring that it’s warm and you have a hat, and head out, glad to see that nobody is out in the living room to question where you’re going. 

You take the car, promising yourself that you won’t drink tonight.

And when you finally park on the street in front of the restaurant, you feel sick to your stomach.

Ding!

Jamiezzz

y/nnnnn are you coming? 

say yes

“Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself as you sit in the car, realizing what exactly you’ve done. You’re already here now, and you’re too proud to drive all the way back without even eating with your friends…

You 

im coming in now :)

Quickly, you check your hair and makeup in the mirror on the sun visor, trying to keep your hands from shaking. 

Then you grab your bag, and exit the car, putting a few coins into the meter on the backstreet you parked in. 

You walk into the restaurant, keeping your head down as you walk past the open area to the hallway with the private rooms. Last time, everyone was in Room 2, so you go there again, peeking in before sliding open the door.

“Y/N!” Jimin calls as soon as she sees you, a blush already prominent on her cheeks. She hauls herself up from the floor, holding a glass of beer as she comes over to greet you.

You laugh nervously, grabbing her hand to keep the drink from pouring all over you and the floor. “Hi.”

“Come on, come sit down,” Jimin tugs you to the table, and as you’re sitting down, you notice that Seungyoun isn’t even here.

“How’s your comeback stuff going, Y/N?” Vernon asks once you’re situated, Jimin getting some meat off the grill for you to start eating. 

You pick up a pair of chopsticks, thanking Jimin quietly before you answer. “Pretty good. It’s not gonna be a huge, full-scale thing anyway. Our promotion period will only be a week, because we’re doing some stuff in Japan afterwards.”

“Don’t you love when they schedule activities back to back like that?” Hyunggu adds sarcastically.

“Cheers to that.” you clink the glass in front of you with some kind of alcohol in it with his.

“When’s Seungyoun coming back?” Vernon asks after a few minutes of casual conversation.

“I don’t know, when he gets back from picking up Kim Wooseok and Sahee.”

You freeze.

“Oh, right,” Vernon hums, going back to munching on a ssam. 

“You never mentioned that to me, unnie,” you tell Jimin through a tight smile, hoping nobody will notice how grim you suddenly look because they’re all a little wasted. The beer here is super cheap.

She gives you a bright smile, like what you’ve just said barely even ran through her mind. “I didn’t?”

You sigh, putting your head in your hands, not bothering to try and make it look like you’re not stressed out by this turn of events. Of course. Of fucking course. Of fucking course this happens.

“I think I’m gonna leave,” you announce, standing up, to which Jimin immediately grabs onto your ankle and starts whining, and Vernon and Hyunggu question why.

“Y/N,” Jimin drags out your name in a sing-song way, rubbing her cheek onto your leg. “You always ditch us. Do you not love me anymore?”

You sigh sharply. “That’s not it-”

“We’re back!”

The door slides open with force, and as you turn your head instinctively, you meet eyes with Seungyoun, who looks significantly more drunk than you think you’ve ever seen him before. 

“Cho Seungyoun!” Jimin calls from the floor, letting go of you to stand up. “Where the heck were you?”

“Taxis are a rough business,” he replies vaguely, walking forward, then turning to you and ruffling your hair unexpectedly. Your eyes are wide when he grins at you. “Y/N-ie, it’s been a while.”

“...Huh?” the noise of surprise barely passes your lips.

“Ah, looks good,”

You look past Seungyoun, who moves to sit down next to Vernon on the other side of the table, and see Sahee stretching her arms out in front of her, following Seungyoun and sitting next to him. 

And lastly, Wooseok, hands tucked into his coat-pockets, looking like the only other sober person here. You see him let out a soft sigh, and sit down on your left. 

You sit back down once Jimin does too.

How are you ever going to get out of this one?

“Since when were you coming?” Wooseok says quietly from your side as the conversation picks up between everyone else.

You pick at your food, the nerves now coursing through you making you lose your appetite. “Since Jimin texted me and made me feel bad for not coming.”

“I would’ve warned you, had I known you’d be here,” he responds, setting a ssam on your plate. You mumble a thanks.

“It’s okay.” you glance at Seungyoun, who is laughing hard, a blush struck across his cheeks. Sahee smiles over at him. And you know what kind of smile that is. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Just stick it out for a few minutes and we can get out of here,” Wooseok ducks his head to whisper that to you, the corner of his lip lifting when you turn towards him. “Promise.”

“Let’s just go to Busan again,” you say, a smile rising on your face as you remember kicking sand at him a few days ago. “That lady at the restaurant will probably remember our orders.”

He chuckles. “A few too many ladies at restaurants remember us at this point.”

“Hey, not that many!”

“The budae-jjigae place, the place we got chicken, the dessert cafe-”

“Yah yah yah!”

Jimin practically shouts, making you cringe and turn to look at her. She has a devilish smirk, but it’s pretty lopsided, and the blush on her face is only getting darker. She is straight up drunk at this point.

“These two look a little suspicious!” she slaps a hand on your shoulder. “Whatcha talkin’ about over there?”

You point to yourself with a frown. “Who? Me and Wooseok-oppa?”

“Oppa?!” Jimin repeats wildly.

Oh, fuck.

“I didn’t know you two were that close,” Hyunggu comments from the other end of the table, looking mischievous.

Panicking, you look to Wooseok, hoping he understands that you don’t know what to do in this situation. He opens his mouth to presumably clear things up in some smart, Wooseok way, but Sahee interrupts before he can start talking.

“Hey, are you two dating?” she points a chopstick at you, grinning. “You’d look cute together!”

Stunned into silence by this whole predicament, you can’t even respond to say no, and Wooseok doesn’t seem to prepared to reply either.

“Woah, they’re definitely dating, look at them-” Jimin starts with a laugh, but gets sharply cut off.

“No they aren’t,” Seungyoun practically snaps at her, pushing something around on his plate, avoiding anyone’s eyes. 

“How do you know?” Sahee questions, seemingly not fazed by Seungyoun’s sudden dark demeanor. You frown, trying to make out his expression, but there’s little there on his face to read. 

“He’s right, we’re not,” Wooseok finally answers, quietly. 

“Well, you should consider it,” Sahee responds, plopping a piece of meat into her mouth. “Y/N is so cute, and Wooseok-ssi, you’re good-looking too!”

“Is that the only thing that matters?” Wooseok says coolly. “How people look? How they look next to each other?”

Sahee seems taken aback, frowning slightly. “...I mean, it matters a little bit-”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you interrupt, feeling tension rise between the two of them. “Anyone need to come along?”

Nobody says yes, so you stand with your bag, patting Jimin on the head and saying you’ll be right back, hoping the atmosphere will be better when you return.

You make your way through the restaurant with the turtleneck of your sweater pulled up over half your face, checking to see if there’s a bathroom inside the place. But there isn’t, so you opt to just step outside, walking over to where you parked instead, and just leaning against your car, hands tucked under your arms to keep warm.

You sigh, tipping your head back and looking up at the night sky. Why did you come? Sometimes you think your brain self-sabotages on purpose. Forces you to do things with poor excuses, that it builds up as being much stronger reasons than they are. Forces you into bad places. Maybe to try and make you learn, or make you change. 

The stars aren’t super visible tonight. Maybe there’s more pollution in the air, or maybe the lights around are too bright. It’s what you notice, as you try to clear your head. 

You pull your phone out of your bag and turn it on.

Jiseo-unnie

Come back soon, we have practice tomorrow morning.

Manager Dowoon

Y/N, make sure you don’t stay out late, and don’t let anyone take pictures of you. 

Don’t ruin the comeback.

Remember the other members

Dowoon tends to do that. Despite Jiseo’s image- short, roughly cut dyed green hair, dark eyeliner, black clothes- you’re really the “troublemaker” of the group. And your manager loves to remind you of that. He loves to make you feel guilty for going out when your members stay home, even if they’ve never voiced complaints about it to you. He loves to criticize you for holding the group back. He loves to suggest that you’ll be the one to cause your group’s first big scandal someday.

You sigh again.

You

don’t worry, i’ll be back soon

this is boring anyway

You try to make sure Jiseo never feels bad for asking you to give up your free time. Truthfully, if you were a better idol, a better group member, maybe even a better person, you’d give it all up without question. You’d give up your other friends, and your romantic interests. You’d forget all about it to focus on work.

But you never seem to be able to do that. 

Maybe all those comments people write about you are right.

“L/N F/N,” 

Your head whips to the left, eyes wide as they match Seungyoun’s. He saunters up with a lack of balance evident in his steps, and nearly falls after tripping on the crack in the sidewalk. You grab his arm to stabilize him, letting go like you’ve touched fire as soon as you think he’s okay on his own.

“This isn’t the bathroom,” Seungyoun says, leaning on the car next to you. You’re thankful he does that, so you don’t have to look directly at him. You can almost pretend he’s someone else. 

Only he has Seungyoun’s voice, and Seungyoun’s air, and Seungyoun’s touch as he just barely brushes against you when he adjusts how he’s standing. 

You can’t ignore it.

It still makes your heart race.

“...I know,” you respond, your voice a breath in the breeze. “I couldn’t find it.”

That’s a lie. But you do that a lot around him, don’t you?

“Jimin didn’t tell me you were coming,” Seungyoun continues, like the comment about the bathroom was just to make sure you’re listening to him. “Did she tell you I’d be here?”

Your breath catches in your throat. Something is pulling at you, telling you to look at him. But you can’t. You can’t. “Uh-huh.”

Seungyoun hums in response, but doesn’t say anything else.

You tug on your fingers, feeling the bones pop. 

“...But she didn’t mention Sahee, or Wooseok.” you add, still quiet. “So that was a surprise.”

“Kim Sahee,” Seungyoun says, with the tone of someone deeply pondering something. Like her name came out of The Republic, a philosophical thought. “She comes around a lot lately.”

“Oh?” you say, although it’s tight in your throat.

You see him nod out of your peripheral vision. “Yeah.”

You glance over- just for a fleeting moment. He’s wavering, hands splayed against the hood of the car to keep him stable, his cheeks are red.

You’d forgotten for a moment. That you’re the only sober one between you two.

“I think… I’m gonna go home now,” you say after a moment’s hesitation. There’s a rock in your chest, the kind that makes it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. It’s weighing you down, making your hands shake. You need to drive in the night, and sleep for hours. You need to get away from Seungyoun.

“Y/N-ah,” Seungyoun says, a trace of desperation in his voice. He turns his whole body towards you, drawing your attention. When you look at him, he’s frowning. “Why don’t you like me anymore?”

For a moment, you just stare at him, mouth dropped open in shock.

And then a cold wave of panic hits you like a riptide.

The rock is a boulder now.

“...Huh?” you manage, gripping onto the handle of your bag so hard that your knuckles change colors. 

Seungyoun grabs your shoulders, leaning in close to your face. You pull away, but that seems to make him more fervent. “Why did you tell me that Sahee loves me? I didn’t need to know that. That’s not something I was waiting to hear from you.”

“What?” you say, frozen in place. “What are you-”

“Why did you call me oblivious? Was it really just that? Was it just about Sahee? Y/N-ah, you have to tell me,” he shakes you. “Please. Just tell me that. Just tell me that.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you whisper, hands shaking so fiercely you’re afraid you’ll drop your bag. 

“Just answer me,” Seungyoun says, his voice shuddering with every word. His face is inches from yours, and his hold on you is so tight you don’t think you could pull away even if you tried.

You stare at him, at his watery, unfocused eyes. At the slope of his nose, tinged pink. At the way his hair falls over the sides of his face, as he hasn’t done anything to it recently. 

His eyes. 

Can they even see you right now?

“...I don’t have an answer,” you tell him, each word striking pain into your chest. 

And then he kisses you.

You think you remember- the first time you thought about what it would be like to kiss Seungyoun. It was not long after you first met him. He looked really handsome, that night. It was before he cut his hair. You didn’t like him, yet. You were extremely busy and barely had time to see your friends, so you didn’t know him that well. But you remember that for the first time, you thought he was handsomer than Vernon. It seemed huge to you, because despite never seeing Vernon in that sort of way, you always agreed with the young-Leo diCaprio thing. You always thought he was one of the best-looking guys you knew personally.

But Seungyoun that night, at some cheap side-of-the-road place selling makgeolli to ajusshis... he became the best-looking guy you knew personally.

He smiled at you then, with his eyes tucked up into his cheeks, and when his face relaxed out of the smile, you thought about if he would be the type to smile into a kiss. You always thought he would. That he would be the type to laugh and tease you and bump teeth while kissing you because he couldn’t wipe the smile away long enough to do it properly. You thought that would become his properly. 

He’s not smiling now. And neither are you.

You always thought kissing Seungyoun would be electric. Sparks would fly, and the room would spin around you. You thought it would be the precursor to him asking you to be his girlfriend. That it would be the happiest moment of your life so far.

Instead, it’s sloppy. His lips don’t land exactly on top of yours, and the hand that finds its way to your face pushes up too far, too close to your eye. His teeth bump into your mouth, but it just feels awkward and uncomfortable. And he pulls away quickly, opening his eyes back up to stare at yours, which never closed in the first place.

Seungyoun looks at you expectantly. 

His eyes are unfocused. He wobbles.

“You’re drunk,” you whisper, swallowing. He doesn’t answer.

You pull Seungyoun’s hands off of you, to little resistance. 

“Goodnight,” you tell him, looking away.

You walk around the back of your car and step down onto the road, pulling out your keys. You unlock it, and get in the driver’s side, sitting down and shutting the door behind you. You lock all four doors instinctively. 

Seungyoun tries to pull on the handle of the passenger side once. 

You put the key in the ignition, and start the engine. You don’t turn on music. You put the gear into drive. 

And you leave.

And you leave behind a part of you with Seungyoun, standing on the side of a one-way road in a side street, alone.

#here it is! #we out here #aaa #x1 imagines #x1 x reader #x1 scenarios #cho seungyoun x reader #cho seungyoun #seungyoun x reader #kim wooseok x reader #kim wooseok #wooseok x reader #x1 #x1 angst #x1 au #fic

[btsqualityy]

Amour Vincit Omnia / 11

“So I told Hobi’s dumb ass, either he takes me out for date night this weekend or this ass is on lock down,” Cassie huffed, looking over at Akira for confirmation that she was right but rolling her eyes when she saw that Akira’s full attention was on her phone.

“Kira!” Cassie yelled, making Akira jump slightly and drop her phone onto the desk in front of her.

“What the fuck Cass?” She muttered, putting her hand over her chest as she felt her heart damn near beat out of her chest.

“Have you been listening to anything that I’ve said?” Cassie asked and Akira shook her head sheepishly. “I swear, every since you got with Taehyung officially, he’s been all you can think about.”

“Ok first of all, how do you even know that I’m thinking about him? And second, don’t even go there because you don’t even want me to bring up how horrible of a friend you were when you first got with Hobi,” Akira shot back.

“This isn’t about me though bitch, this is about you,” Cassie chuckled. “And who else would have your face glued to your phone like that?”

“I’m sorry Cass,” Akira sighed. “I just, can’t help it,” she shrugged.

“Even though I’m serious about you having your head up his ass, I can tell that you really like him,” Cassie smiled. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Akira nodded as a small smile appeared on her face. “He’s just so, different from anyone else that I’ve ever dated before. He’s so sure of himself, but also the sweetest and most non-conceited person I’ve ever met.”

“I get what you mean, I felt the same way about Hobi when we first met. Still do,” Cassie nodded. “Maybe it’s something about Korean men.”

“Maybe,” Akira hummed as her phone vibrated on the desk in front of her and she picked it up to check the notification.

Tae: I’m like 5 minutes away pretty girl

Akira: Ok cool, can’t wait to see you

Tae: Ditto baby

“That’s him that you’ve been ignoring me for, isn’t it?” Cassie asked knowingly and Akira looked up from her phone to roll her eyes playfully.

“Yes, he’s about to come pick me up because I’m sleeping over at his place tonight,” Akira said as she began to gather her stuff and put it all into her purse.

“Ohh, staying at the millionaire’s fancy apartment huh?” Cassie teased and Akira laughed as she shook her head.

“He said it’s nothing too fancy,” she shrugged again. 

“Kira, you do realize that it probably seems like nothing fancy to him because he’s used to being rich,” Cassie pointed out with a huff and Akira paused as she thought about her words for a second.

“You’re probably right about that,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m happy to finally be getting a change of scenery because he always stays over at my place.”

“Mm, speaking of Mr. Millionaire himself,” Cassie sing-songed with a smile and when Akira looked up, she saw Taehyung walking through the doors of the gallery. 

“Hey,” she grinned, her heart doing that familiar flutter when he returned a smile to her.

“Hey hey,” he greeted and Akira quickly stepped from behind the desk to hug him tightly.

“Mm, missed you pretty girl,” Taehyung whispered into her ear before pressing a soft kiss to it.

“Missed you too,” she replied honestly, not even having realized exactly how much she had until then since they hadn’t been able to see each other much for the past few weeks because of Taehyung having to work more.

“Isn’t this just such a pretty picture?” Cassie joked and Taehyung pulled away from the hug to look over at her.

“Hi Cassie,” he greeted and Cassie waved at him.

“Alright, I’m leaving,” Akira said as she leaned down to sign out, vaguely aware of Taehyung’s hand that remained wrapped around her waist the entire time.

“Have fun you crazy kids,” Cassie said once Akira had finished writing her name down and had grabbed her purse. “Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t leave much Cass,” Akira pointed out, making Cassie gasp dramatically.

“Rude,” she huffed and Akira laughed out loud before grabbing Taehyung’s hand in hers and turning to walk towards the front of the gallery.

“Bye Cass!” Akira shouted.

..........................

“So, what do you think?” Taehyung wondered after he had opened the front door to his apartment and allowed Akira to walk in first before following behind her. Akira chuckled in disbelief as she looked around her at his massive entryway that led to the living room, which was entirely too large for just one person to live there.

“It’s beautiful Tae,” she replied honestly, making him sigh in relief and smile as he walked over to her. “A little large for just you though, don’t you think?”

“Mm maybe, but I fell in love with it when the realtor showed it to me so,” he trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders. “Here, come with me and I’ll give you a tour.” She nodded and followed behind him as he led the way. He showed her the entirely too large living room that she had seen when they walked in, the entirely too large kitchen that looked as if it had never been touched (”I’m not really much of a cook,” Taehyung had sheepishly admitted), and the two large guest bedrooms and their accompanying bathrooms before leading her to the master bedroom.

“And this is my room,” he announced as he opened the door and gestured inside. Akira stepped in and looked around, noticing that the room was decorated in shades of black and grey. She also noticed the numerous pieces of artwork that he had hung up around the room.

“I love it,” she confessed before he even had a chance to ask her what she thought. “Especially the art.”

“Thanks, I did them myself,” he revealed and Akira whipped around to face him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckled as he shook his head. “You’re not the only one who’s good at art.”

“Tae, these are like almost professional level,” she said as she walked over to one of the walls to get a closer look. “I think you might be in the wrong business baby.”

“Eh, it’s just something that I’ve always dabbled in. Nothing serious,” he shrugged.

“Nothing serious? This is talent Tae,” she chuckled as she looked back at him over her shoulder. 

“What do you wanna do for dinner?” He asked suddenly and Akira’s brow furrowed at the sudden change in subject but she decided not to push him on it.

“Do you have any groceries here? I could make us something,” she offered.

“You know my schedule Akira,” he pointed out with a laugh. “I barely have time to eat, let alone go grocery shopping.”

“Mm, I guess you’re right,” she hummed. “Takeout?”

“Chinese?” He added and they both nodded at the same time.

..........................

“You know,” Akira spoke up as she looked down at Taehyung, who was sat on the floor in between her legs as they ate from their takeout containers. “If I’m gonna be staying over here more, you’re gonna have to get some actual groceries. While my stomach loves takeout, my figure doesn’t.”

“I’ll work on the groceries thing,” he conceded with a chuckle. “But what are you talking about your figure? You look great.”

“I won’t for too much longer if I keep eating this,” she laughed as she gestured to her cup of shrimp fried rice.

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world though,” he murmured. “I like how thick you are.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to have something extra to hold onto while I fuck you,” he teased and Akira griped the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled on it, making him squeal loudly.

“Ok, rude.”

“I’m sorry,” he huffed, letting out a sigh when Akira finally let go of his hair. “But seriously, I love it.”

“You better,” she shot back, happy that she was sitting behind him and he couldn’t tell that she had the biggest smile on her face. 

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he said as he set his cup of sweet and sour pork on the table in front of him before leaning his head back into Akira’s lap so that he was looking up at her.

“What’s up?” She wondered.

“So, you know how I have the Winter fashion show for Vantae coming up,” he started and she nodded, thinking briefly about how him getting ready for the winter fashion show was the reason why they hadn’t been able to see each other much lately.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, I wanted to ask if you would be my date,” he said and Akira rose her eyebrow at him.

“You think that’s a good idea? I mean, you are more of a private person,” she pointed out.

“It’s not like we’re doing an interview on our love life,” he laughed, making her do the same. “I’d just love to have you there as support and the rest of the guys and I’m pretty sure Cassie too are going to be there anyways.”

“Hmm, alright,” she nodded and Taehyung smiled widely before puckering his lips. Akira giggled and leaned down, pressing her lips to his for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Thank you baby,” he said.

“No need to thank me Tae,” she rolled her eyes playfully. “Let’s just hope we don’t regret this.”

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bts reactions #bts series #bts v #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x oc #v x oc #bts x oc #v smut #v fluff #v angst #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines

[stoven-harrington]

Where did the time go (during the summer I spent with you)?

Steve Harrington X OC

Hey this is my first story I'm writing about my favourite boi Steve Harrington. I hope you guys enjoy it😍😍

Also shout out to the story Time Flies By by @harringtown for inspiring me to write this fic. She's really amazing so please check out her other fics

This happens a year after season 3, so Steve is now 20.

Steve Harrington AU in which Steve is dragged into 2019. With him here in the new modern world, going back to 1986 just might be possible. Time travel, new friends, old friends, with so much at hand, love shouldn’t be on the table. But life doesn’t always go as planned.

Chapter 1:  A Normal day with a side of concussion please

I came to visit my aunt’s place in Hawkins to house-sit for her over the summer break. Of course, this wasn’t my ideal summer plans (those included going to beaches and seeing my friends) but I knew that Auntie Maria needed someone to watch over the adorable pitbull Nico. I haven’t seen his dopey face in forever and I miss that fur ball. Walking up to the door, I barely had the chance to knock on the door before it busted open and Auntie Maria’s hand reached out and dragged me inside, pulling me into a hug.

“Oh thank god you’re here!” Her hair was a mess, eyes crinkling in happiness, her clothes slightly sloppy as she smiled at me. “God, it’s been forever since I last saw you! And I know who also missed you.” I hear the dog tags before I see the grey fur. Nico comes rushing and jumps on me, making me fall to the floor in a mountain of his kisses. A giggle pours out of me as I try to get up without Nico trying to jump on me again.

“Hey Auntie Maria, hi Nico. How’s my good boy? Did you miss me? Did ya? Did ya? I missed you!” His tail kept wagging a mile a minute as I pet his belly. Auntie Maria laughed at the both of us while pulling out her Polaroid, snapping a picture before I could protest.

“Awww just look at you two. So cute. Ahhh I wish I didn’t have to go so I can spend time with you both but you know? Work is work. Hey where’s your friend? I thought you guys would come together?” I finally stand up and look back at her.

“Nah, Saint said they’ll be here in a week or two. They got stuck with a project but they said they’ll head over after its done.” She nods absently while petting Nico.

“Alright, well at least you won’t be alone with Nico the whole summer. Oh, and if you need help or anything Joy said she’d be happy to lend a hand on anything okay?” I smiled hearing Joy’s name. That lovely little Filipino lady was one of best highlights of this place, besides my aunt and dog of course.

“Oh I like Joy, she makes the absolute BEST food. Her sinigang* is to DIE for and UGHHH I just love her.” She laughs as she grabs her phone.

“Yea she’s the best neighbor I could ever ask. Make sure to say hi to her when you see her and hey, maybe you could even help her out with gardening and stuff. Her son isn’t coming over this summer because of his job so it’s just her and Marcus.”

______________________________________________________________

Auntie Maria didn’t really have a lot of time to talk but she did mention that she stocked the house with food for a month or two and that I could use anything in the house as long as I didn’t use her weed (this is one of the reasons why I love Auntie Maria). She also said I could get a job if I wanted to earn a buck, but I figured I’d be busy exploring the rest of the town I haven’t seen and whatnot so whatever. Besides, I earned a lot from my job at home so I was well off for the summer. She parted ways after hugging me and Nico and drove like the speed demon she is as I waved her off. Nico whined a bit until I took him for a walk and briefly said hello to Joy and her husband. There wasn’t really a lot to do after putting my stuff away and before I realized it, it was night. Saint texted me about their project and I filled them in on my short day while making myself some fried rice.

Benefits to house sitting for Auntie Maria: I have 3 choices of bedrooms. She never told me why she had a lot of bedrooms other than giving the regular ol’ excuse of “guest rooms”. I always felt like she was lying about it since I would find items in the rooms that I knew didn’t belong to her, but it was her business and I wasn't gonna pry. Picking at random with a metal bat in hand (Auntie Maria still kept my softball equipment from high school since mom was gonna throw it out), I walked into the bedroom furthest from the stairs on the second floor and laughed at Nico hopping on the bed before me.

“Hey you punk, I was gonna sit in it first!” He barked in response and quickly got comfortable as I placed the bat next to my side of the bed and got under the sheets. It wasn’t long until he scooted himself by my feet and soon after, my eyelids started to droop. Sleepiness was creeping on me as I whispered, “Night Nico.”

________________________________________________________________

It was supposed to be a typical night for Steve: he was expecting to walk around the forest lake in peace while he gathered his thoughts on what college to choose. He did this every so often away from his children rugrat-group of friends, especially his favorite, since he wanted them to care for themselves and not him. At that point of the night, he’d get get closer to the lake and try to skip rocks, watching his rocks just sink into the water. After that, he would head back to his car and go home, sneak into his room and knock out.

But this wasn’t supposed to happen: getting snatched by some slimy creature and squirming out of it but not before the creature cut him with its claws(?). Steve barely had time to think as he fled to his car, not realizing the big gash on his leg was starting to bleed. Could he make it to the car? Why couldn’t he just have a normal night? Was it really that hard to ask for?

“Shit! Just one time!” He exclaimed

He was trying to grab the walkie and bat he left in the car to warn his friends but as his fingers brushed the car door, the claws came back once more and grabbed his ankle. Steve struggled to get the creature to let go by kicking, however, the creature learned its lesson and grabbed both of his legs as they went through a slimy portal of a tree. This had to be the end for him, what else was there to live for? He hadn’t even found a girl he liked aside from Robin since she just don’t swing that way. Man, this blows

Expecting to see the upside down and the creature’s mouth above his face, he was pleasantly surprised to see neither of those things and instead was just lying on the ground of the forest again. Fuck that, if he had a chance to get away, he was taking it. Without a second to spare, he jumped up and looked down at himself.  The stupid creature ripped his jeans and he finally noticed the bleeding.

“Dammit, and these were my favorite pair and I’m bleeding all over…” Just then, the growl of a creature nearby jumped him back to his senses. He recognized the sound was unnatural and tried to strain his ears to hear what direction the creature was hiding in. The growl came closer and a rustle of leaves tipped him that the creature was on his right and he sped towards his left, hauling ass without second guessing himself. He couldn’t hear the creature anymore because of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears but he noticed houses starting to take form in his field of view and ran towards the closest. Someone just had to be up right? There's always one person who can’t sleep right? God, he prayed for an insomniac, someone to let him in.  

That was short-lived however because while he was so focused on getting to the door, he didn’t notice the stupid rock in his way and tripped, hitting his head on yet another stupidly placed rock and knocking out in the progress. He didn’t even see the light turning on in the house in front of him or hear the creature creeping closer. Talk about having a shitty night.

  *Sinigang*= a Filipino soup that can be with either pork or chicken, spinach, tamarind, ginger and others. The soup is really good if you have the chance to try it, do it. Doesn't hurt to try something at least once right?

This story is on archive of our own and has more chapters there but I will post the rest of the chapters

Part II

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #demogorgon #pitbull #i love dogs #steve the hair harrington #stranger things kids #jane hopper #dustin henderson #robin buckley #mike wheeler #will byers

[chasholidays]

Clarke texts Bellamy terrible things she's cooking, such as Gatorade rice

how do people cook

The sound of the text notification pulls Bellamy away from the papers he’s grading, and he rubs his face, trying to figure out what time it is and how long he’s been at this. He signed up to TA for a summer term, which was a good idea for his finances and resume, but the professor seems to think of him as nothing but a machine that grades and answers emails, which isn’t good for anyone, pedagogically speaking.

He figures out, from studying his phone for a second that, one, he’s been grading for three straight hours and, two, Clarke is doing that “not using punctuation makes me look casual” thing again when she texts, even though she doesn’t know how to turn off autocorrect, so she has to manually uncapitalize her letters, which is the opposite of casual.

Me: Cook what?Or are you just wondering how it’s possible that people cook?

Clarke: both i guessi did not do well with dinner

She attaches an image of a very undercooked pork chop covered in what looks like paper mache; he’s not sure what she was trying to make, but it’s safe to say she didn’t make it.

Me: I can tell you cooked parts of it

Clarke: yeah?which partsbe specific

Me: The part of the meat that isn’t pinkWhat were you going for?

Clarke: artichoke stuffed pork chops

Me: For your first meal ever?

Clarke: it looked easy!!what are you up to?

Me: [image]Grading for the rest of my life apparently

Clarke: aren’t summer classes supposed to be easier?did I make that up?

Me: You did, yeahThey’re shorter and more intenseAnd this one is writing intensive so Diyoza has them turning in papers every dayAnd has me grading all of them

Clarke: good thing you don’t have a social life or that would really suck

Me: Thanks for understanding Did you start the new job yet?

Clarke: not yetnext weekbut this was when i could move into the new place so here i am

Me: How much effort are you putting into making your phone not capitalize the letter I

Clarke: i’m on my laptop right now so noneraven said my texting should be more casual if i was going to try online dating

Me: Did she tell you no capitals was casual? I think it’s more of a tone thingAnd are you trying online dating?

Clarke: trying or trying to try i guessworking on my profile now

Me: I don’t know why you’d want to be someone you’re not in online datingIf using capitals and punctuation makes someone not to date you, that’s a good sign you guys wouldn’t be good togetherAnd plenty of people like following stylistic rules

Clarke: do you have a source on that

Me: I do and I’m pretty sure you doSo that’s twoAlso I’m grading right now and I’m struggling not to correct all the errors in your texts

Clarke: OopsSorry

Me: Why online dating?

Clarke: Because it feels like the logical thingI’ve been single for a while, I’m in a new city with no real social group, I don’t want to date coworkersSo if I sign up for an app, I’m at least trying

Me: Yeah, that makes senseI’m just planning to die alone

Clarke: PleaseYou cough and people fall over themselves asking if you’re single

Me: Which is a fetish demographic I don’t care about appealing to so yeahDying alone

Clarke: [eyeroll]At least you can cook

Me: I’ll send you some easy recipes when I get homeBut yeah for now maybe just order a pizza

Clarke: Already done[screenshot]ETA twenty minutes

Me: GoodOkay, I need to finish this and get dinner tooBut keep me posted on the cookingMaybe send me pictures of meat before you eat it so I can approve it

Clarke: So if you’re away from your phone for a minute I can’t eat?

Me: Safety firstI’ll send recipes tonight

*

Bellamy met Clarke Griffin the first day of junior year, when they were moving into the dorms. She had the room directly above his, and for the first few weeks they had an ongoing pitched conflict because she was loud and he was trying to study, but then she broke up with her girlfriend who always wore heels. Bellamy made an asshole comment about how her new shoes were a huge improvement, Clarke snapped back that they weren’t her shoes, and suddenly they were bonding about being queer–bi in her case, pan in his–and breakups and school, and before he knew it, they were friends, and then best friends, and then one afternoon she smiled at him in the library and he realized he was in love.

In theory, they also should have been finishing college and going into the world at the same time, but he was in the BA-to-MA history program, so he had an extra year at school while Clarke moved home for a couple weeks before finding a job in Boston.

And now she’s texting him about cooking fails and online dating and he misses her more than he can stand.

“You could just tell her that,” Roan suggests. Roan is in the history PhD program and his mother knows Clarke’s mother, which means that he has seen Bellamy and Clarke together for more than ten minutes and therefore knows that Bellamy has a thing for her. That seems to be the standard amount of time it takes people to figure it out. “I miss you and I want to try long distance. People do that.”

“I’m aware that long-distance relationships are a thing, yeah.”

“I couldn’t tell if you were aware that relationships were something that you could be involved in, or if you just thought they happened to other people.”

“They do just happen to other people,” he says. “They’re not happening to me.”

“Which is shocking, considering you’re hung up on a woman you won’t talk to and turn down every offer that doesn’t come from her. Truly, your singleness is a mystery.”

His phone buzzes with a text from Clarke–Why are there so many kinds of olive oil? Why do I care how much sex my olives have had? Purity culture is out of control–and he waves the phone at Roan. “We’re talking right now.”

“I’m just saying, complaining that she’s not dating you when you’ve put zero effort into getting her to date you isn’t particularly sympathetic. You could at least try asking her.”

I don’t actually know why it’s called that but most recipes want extra virgin, he texts back quickly, then adds, How do you not have olive oil?

“I don’t even know what I’m going to be doing after this,” he says, turning his attention back to Roan. “If I want to go on to get my PhD or what.”

“Because you couldn’t possibly get your PhD in Boston.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I’m not mad she’s doing online dating. If she finds someone, I’m not going to be a dick about it. But I’m not going to tell her to wait for me or whatever.”

“Are you sure you understand what long distance means?” he asks, dry.

“I’m not ready to tell her yet,” he admits. “If that means I miss my chance–” He shrugs. “Then it sucks to be me.”

“Not the attitude I’d take, but I suppose I can’t stop you. I wouldn’t tell you to do this,” he adds, “if I didn’t think it would end well for you.”

“I know.” He taps the rim his mug, thinking it over. It’s weird, confiding in Roan, of all people, but he’s never willing to start conversations about his stupid crush, and Roan’s one of the few people who actually asks. So here they are. “I’m waiting to see if it lasts. Maybe with her gone, it’ll just go away. And if that happens, I don’t want to be dating her when it does.”

“There’s some logic to that,” Roan admits. “Not necessarily convincing logic, but logic nonetheless. Still, if you were dating her, I don’t think it would just fade away like that.”

“Maybe. Maybe I’ll decide I want to tell her.”

Roan raises his coffee. “I’m rooting for you.”

“Thanks,” says Bellamy, with a smile. “Means the world to me.”

*

Bellamy is working on his own dinner when his phone buzzes with a picture from Clarke. He was expecting meat, but based on the preview picture it’s something else, something much weirder, and the follow-up message doesn’t really help.

Clarke: Trying something out

Bellamy: Yellow rice?

Clarke: Gatorade rice

Bellamy: What

Clarke: I’m making a rice bowl and it wanted me to season with lime juiceI forgot to buy lime juice but I do have lemon lime gatoradeSo I figured I could just replace the water when I was cooking the rice to get the flavor

Bellamy stares at the words for a second, his brain trying to protect him from the reality of what Clarke has done, but the words burrow in deep and refuse to leave.

He’s not sure he’s ever called her on the actual phone before, but he’s dialing before he can think better of it.

“It doesn’t taste that bad!” she says, in lieu of a greeting.

“What the fuck, Clarke.”

“What? I’ve seen Chopped, I know you can substitute things.”

“Yeah, but those are people who know how to cook. You’re going to burn down your apartment.”

“Plus my rice bowl tastes really weird,” she agrees. “But it got you to call me. How’s it going?”

“Pretty good. Summer semester’s over, so I’m done with grading for a while.”

“Still working at the coffee shop?”

“Yeah, picked up some extra hours. I’m actually making dinner right now.”

“Yeah?” she asks, brightening. “What are you making?”

“Nothing very exciting. It’s hot so I didn’t want to cook and I had some leftover chicken, so I’m making chicken salad.”

“How did you learn to cook? I always knew you could, but now that I’m trying to do it myself I really don’t get how you got the skillset.”

“O’s dad was a good cook,” he says, trying the chicken salad and adding a little more salt and pepper. “I used to like helping him. After he died, my mom didn’t have time to cook, so I took over. He had cookbooks and stuff, but there was definitely a learning curve.”

“I think I just don’t have the cooking instinct.”

“You cooked rice in gatorade, so yeah, I agree,” he teases.

“It could have been really good!”

“Uh huh. The instincts develop,” he adds. “You make chicken and figure out what spices you like with chicken, you figure out what tastes good and use more of it.”

“You put gatorade in your rice.”

“You learn not to do that.” He grabs bread and sticks it in the toaster. “Do you have a rice cooker?”

“My roommate does, she said I could borrow it as long as I clean it. I’m going to clean it really well.”

“You better. How is she? As a roommate.”

He imagines her shrugging in the short pause, can almost see her doing it. “Fine. I honestly don’t see her much, we have totally different schedules. Any time we’re actually home together we make awkward small talk and then she goes into her room and closes the door.”

“Honestly, that could be a lot worse. She could want to be your best friend.”

“Yeah, god forbid anyone wanted to be friends with me,” she teases.

“How’s that going, by the way? The whole friends thing?”

“It’s going. I went out for drinks with my coworkers, they’re cool.”

“Any dates?”

“Not yet. What about you? Still just hanging out with Roan?”

“For now, but once fall semester starts up I’ll have other friends.”

“Really?”

“Hopefully.”

She laughs. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I wish I was there to keep you from putting gatorade in your rice.”

The words seem a little awkward as soon as they’re out of his mouth, but Clarke just says, “I wish you were here so you could taste it.”

“Never mind, I don’t wish I was there anymore. Did you try any of the recipes I sent you?”

“I did the chicken alfredo pasta, it came out pretty well. And I want to do the chili tomorrow. I was going to have it with more of the rice.”

“If you eat my chili with gatorade rice, never tell me.”

“You can follow my instagram. I think I’m going to be big.”

“What is it? Clarke Cooks Crap?”

There’s a pause. “It wasn’t, but it is now.”

“You’re really going to make that, aren’t you?”

“I’m registering as we speak.”

“I can’t believe I have to sign up for instagram now,” he says, with a sigh.

“You don’t have to. I’ll text you everything.”

“Thanks for crossposting for me.”

“I know you hate social media.” She pauses again, finally says, “I should let you eat.”

“Yeah, I should definitely eat. But I’m free tonight if you want to Rabbit something.”

“I could definitely watch something. Give me like an hour and I’ll text you?”

“Sure, sounds good. Enjoy your rice.”

“I’ll send you pictures,” she says, and he gets one almost as soon as they hang up, Clarke with a big spoonful of yellow rice halfway to her mouth, with the caption exclusive content not for instagram.

He sends back a picture of his own sandwich labeled actually good food and grins for the rest of the night.

*

Bellamy never thought much about Clarke and cooking, but if he had, he would have assumed she would be one of those people who followed recipes to a T and googled things like how much is a splash of olive oil to make sure she was measuring out the correct amount.

Instead, every text she sends is something that she seems to have come up with herself specifically to horrify him. When she sends an orange blob with two white eyes, she explains that she couldn’t decide between sweet potatoes and regular, so she just mixed them together, setting aside two small balls to serve as the eyes. Which, okay, it’s probably not bad as combinations go, but Bellamy would use them as sides for two totally different meals. And that’s the best of them. She seems to delight in using gatorade as much as possible, in sauces and glazes, once in salad dressing. She’ll text him things like “out of milk can I just use cream mixed with water?” and “I only need one kind of vinegar, right? They’re all basically the same” and no matter what she says, she seems to think he’s saying yes.

“You haven’t cooked for anyone else, have you?” he asks. He’s taken to calling her after she sends him particularly concerning messages, which happens at least twice a week.

The crush isn’t going away; cooking nightmares seem to be a turn-on for him.

“I’m getting a lot better.”

“You asked if V8 was a replacement for vegetable stock.”

“It was on sale!”

“I’m just saying, you say it didn’t taste that bad and I don’t really trust you. I want a second opinion from someone else who’s tried your cooking.”

“My roommate ate some leftover chicken and I think she’s still alive.”

“Wow, glowing endorsement.”

“That’s the point of food, right? It keeps you alive.”

“Sure, Captain Holt.”

“Obviously you just have to come visit. I assume you’re going home for Christmas?”

“Yeah. I missed Thanksgiving so I figure I have to make Christmas. Spring break is still open.”

“In March?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s so much time for me to plan an all-gatorade meal.”

“All the greatest hits of your instagram together at last.”

She snorts. “Like you have any idea what my instagram’s greatest hits are.”

“I’m assuming the balsamic vinaigrette you made with white vinegar and red gatorade has to be up there.”

“I guess you’ll find out over spring break.”

It’s early December, so break is months and months away. He hadn’t even been planning to do anything, just take a week off and relax. Of course he wants to see Clarke, but he always wants to see Clarke. He hadn’t known how to just say to her, though, hadn’t wanted to invite himself over where he might not be welcome.

Now it’s all he can do to not book flights right away, to be cool and normal.

At least she can’t see how much he’s smiling.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess I will.”

*

“So, I’m thinking I need to tell Clarke how I feel about her.”

To his surprise, Roan’s eyes narrow, and then he punches himself in the arm. “Ah, I’m not asleep.”

“You have dreams about my love life? I didn’t know you cared that much. I hoped you didn’t care that much.”

He waves his hand. “I dream about a lot of things. What changed your mind?”

“It’s been more than six months and I’m still in love with her. After I graduate, I want to be where she is and I want to be with her. So I should say something.”

“That’s what I’ve always thought. Congratulations.”

“Don’t congratulate me, I haven’t told her yet.”

“Honestly, at this point I’m proud of you for even thinking about it. I thought you might have given up.”

He probably would have, if he’s honest. He knows it’s not romantic, but if Clarke had graduated and they’d fallen out of touch, like he did with so many of his friends, he probably would have moved on. But not only have they not fallen out of touch, Clarke’s been reaching out too, keeping him in the loop with her cooking like he keeps her on the loop with classes. They’re both putting in the effort to not lose each other.

Hell, she’s texting him redundant content just because he doesn’t like Instagram. He could already get all of this stuff, but she sends it directly just to him so that he’ll call her.

He thinks he really might have a shot.

“I just don’t want to tell her over the phone, I guess. I want to make sure that once we’re in the same place again, it’s still good. Maybe I’m just really bad at reading tone over text.”

“As always, I will be shocked if Clarke doesn’t reciprocate your feelings before you’ve finished confessing them, but I assume it’s more difficult for you.”

Bellamy fixes him with a look. “Shouldn’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“Do you not bug Clarke about this? Why just me?”

“Clarke’s no fun.”

That does check out. Even her whimsical cooking is less fun and more terrifying. She’s probably really shitty to gossip with.

“So, you’re guessing but not sure.”

“Even if I wasn’t, she doesn’t text me meal updates. I haven’t talked to her since before graduation.”

“Well, I’ll let you know how it goes. I’m expecting you to hold me accountable if I don’t tell her.”

“I’ll text you for daily updates.”

“Terrifying, thanks.”

Roan shrugs. “All your favorite people seem to terrify you.”

It’s hard to deny. “What can I say? I’ve got a type.”

*

Clarke doesn’t meet him at the airport because it takes forever to get there on public transportation, so she tells him to just grab a cab and she’ll cover half the cost. It’s nicer than bringing his stuff on a couple of different trains, but he can’t help the waves of anxiety as he gets closer and closer to Clarke. It would have been nice to get over seeing her right away, to spend a long train ride talking to her, getting comfortable with her again. It was bad enough being on the plane, but now that he’s in her city it feels like they should just be together.

Once the cab lets him off, though, he still hesitates. All this time and all this way and he’s still not quite sure how to see her.

Then he takes a deep breath, marches to the door, and rings the buzzer.

She doesn’t unlock the door but comes down herself, the sight of her knocking the breath out of him for a second. She doesn’t look different, but she doesn’t need to. It’s not as if he wanted her to be different. She opens the door and pulls him into a hug and that’s everything.

“Hi,” he says, holding her close.

“Hi. Sorry I didn’t come meet you.”

“It’s okay. The cab was a lot easier.”

“Still. I feel like a bad host.”

He makes himself pull away, gives her a smile. “Don’t worry, it’s the all-gatorade meal that’s going to make you a bad host.”

She laughs. “That was the other reason to not come get you. I could get started on dinner.”

His stomach drops. “I figured that was later in the week. We aren’t going out tonight? I’ll pay.”

“Nope.”

She unlocks the door and he follows her up the stairs, trying to figure out what to say. “What are you expecting from me?” he finally asks.

“Sorry?”

“Honest reaction, or–”

She flashes him a smile over her shoulder. “I’m not expecting you to pretend gatorade rice is good, Bellamy.”

It’s a deliberate answer, for all her expression is easy, but she opens the door before he can formulate a response and he’s hit with the overwhelming, mouthwatering scent of roasting chicken.

Clarke’s cooking, and it smells amazing.

“Um,” he says, and she grins.

“You really don’t follow my instagram, huh?”

“No. Am I supposed to?”

“No. But if you did, you’d know that I’m actually getting pretty good at the cooking thing. You’re the only one who sees my gatorade experiments.”

“You’re doing real cooking,” he says, brain still catching up.

“Using the recipes you sent me, and then the Internet. I signed up for Hello Fresh, that was really helpful. It kind of sucked to cook for just myself, but I had you and instagram, so it worked out.”

“Did you actually eat all the stuff you sent me?”

“At least some of it. Honestly, I think it helped. Seeing how different ingredients changed the taste, what worked and what didn’t. Honing my instincts, like you said.”

“So gatorade rice made you a better cook.”

She looks nervous for the first time. “I guess you’re going to find out.”

He offers to help, but she waves him off, tells him to relax while she finishes up. Instead, he wanders around the apartment, checking out the decorations, guessing what belongs to Clarke and what belongs to her mysterious roommate, and then settles against the counter, quizzing her on her job and the city, getting updates he mostly already have.

They really do talk a lot. It’s nice.

“So, roasted chicken, what else? Mashed potatoes?”

She grins. “Potatoes and sweet potatoes. It’s actually really good! It adds some good texture and flavor.”

“Looking forward to it,” he says, and she looks so happy he almost kisses her right then.

Of course, she did spend months planning an elaborate surprise about how she really can cook just to troll him, so she probably wouldn’t mind if he did kiss her.

But it can wait until after dinner. She worked so hard. And he’s really excited to try everything.

Clarke doesn’t really have a dining room table–the apartment is small and space is limited–so they take their plates over to the coffee table and settle in. Given the setting, it’s not quite adult, but it’s a real meal, and an amazing one. Even the potatoes work.

“I can’t believe you were holding out on me,” he says.

“Deliberately deceiving you,” she corrects.

“For the big reveal?”

“Yup. As long as you never found my instagram, it was going to be fine.”

“Is it actually Clarke Cooks Crap?”

She looks down. “No, it’s Cooking 101 with Cara. Clarke’s pretty distinctive, I didn’t want anyone to know it was me unless I told them.”

“So I couldn’t have found the instagram even if I went looking for it, huh?”

“You could now.”

There’s something purposeful in her tone, like she’s daring him, and he wants to, but–

“After dinner. And I’m cleaning up, since you cooked.”

She smiles. “There’s dessert, too.”

“You really went all out.”

“I’m really happy to see you.”

“I’m really happy to see you too.” He clears his throat. “Did I tell you I’m looking for jobs here after graduation?”

“You know you didn’t.”

“I didn’t. I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Like me and the cooking.”

He has to smile. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Any good prospects yet?”

They’re done with food, so he fills her in on the research he’s been doing on the places he’s been looking for openings, the applications he’s working on. There’s no sign she’s anything but thrilled with the news, and Bellamy lets himself–quietly, tentatively, slowly–start to believe that this could be his life. Living with Clarke here, making dinner and doing the dishes and talking about the little details of his life that don’t make it into phone calls.

“What was the instagram again?” he asks, once the dishwasher is loaded and running. It seems more pressing than dessert; there’s something on there Clarke wants him to see.

“Cooking 101 with Cara,” she says. “The username is caracooks101.”

“Cara with a C?”

“Yeah.”

He plugs it into his phone, finds the account. The style is familiar–all of Clarke’s awful meals are photographed perfectly, taking full advantage of her art minor–but the actual content is completely new, even knowing she was lying to him. She’s made a lot, and all of it looks amazing. He scans a little, just taking it in, but then he scrolls back up to the top, where there’s an image of what looks like today’s meal, the chicken ready to go into the oven.

Okay, wish me luck, the caption reads, when he clicks it. B’s coming over, so it’s time to see if the way to a man’s heart really is through his stomach. Which is shitty and heteronormative, but whatever. I’m bi, I can like a boy. And I’m hoping he likes chicken.

Clarke is watching him, nervous, and all he can do is laugh. “Roan’s supposed to text me every day at two to ask if I’ve asked you out yet.”

She laughs too, all relief. “That was your plan?”

“He can be very annoying.”

“He can.”

“I’m so in love with you,” he admits. “I have been for years. I’ve missed you so much, I–”

She kisses him, which is nice for a lot of reasons, including, of course, that they’re kissing, and she’s warm and close and has apparently been sharing her food-based seduction plan on instagram for almost a year. She’s been putting in so much effort he almost feels bad for not trying harder himself.

But he’s got time to make it up to her.

“Are you ready for dessert?” she murmurs.

“Is that a euphemism?”

She bites his bottom lip. “Nope. I made red-gatorade popsicles. With real fruit flavors.”

He collapses against her shoulder, laughing so hard he feels like he might never recover. “Fuck,” he manages. “I love you.”

“I know,” she says. “So, dessert?”

“Please.”

And somehow, it really is the best thing he’s ever eaten. His girlfriend’s got a gift.

#reblogginhood

[vivalabunbun]

Boo, You Nerd

Nerd!Namjoon x Bad girl! Reader.

Warnings: Fluff, violence, cussing, underage drinking, smoking, bullying, abuse, angst

Summary: Iron is hard, it's strong and cold. The best Iron is the ones that have been repeatedly beaten over and over and over again. When heated it can turn into a weapon; when chipped it can make a weapon. Gold is beautiful and precious. But so soft and delicate, simply pressing too hard can crush it. An iron bitch meets a golden nerd, what shift in fate will happen?

Chapter 1

“Did you hear that she got into another fight yesterday?”

“Huh?! That sophomore again? Geez, how many fights in total did she get in?”

“I don’t know, I heard that she’s part of the mob. She looks the part too, God, her face is scary.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s arrested soon for murd- Shit! She headed our way, don’t look at her!”

A pair of girls quickly pressed themselves up against the cool steel of their lockers, looking anywhere around the crowded hallway beside the ticking time bomb that was jaunting their way. The time bomb that was you. You strolled past the gossiping pair, face as emotionless as ever with your hands stuffed inside the pockets of your worn leather jacket. The other people in the hallway began to take notice of you, subtly moving aside as to not bump into you. Some of them avoided looking at you, but others gave in to the urge to cast a curious glance at you. The iron bitch.

You knew what they called you behind your back. ‘Miss. Chip-on-her-shoulder, short fuse, Icy bitch, the bad girl of BigHit High’. You also knew that almost all of them lacked the guts to say those names to your constant poker face. 

“Cowards.” You mumbled under your breath as you turned the corner. 

A warm mass crash into you, thankfully, your reflexes made you stand your ground. Your eyes trailed up the pile of books and papers now laying on the ground until they reached the dumbass that crashed into you. And there he was flat on his ass rubbing his lower back, his thick-framed glasses now rested crookedly on his nose. From behind the lenses, a pair of warm honey brown eyes opened up to meet your cold, dead gaze. He flinched back a bit, eyes wide and lips pressed into a straight line. A red flush was making its way up his cheeks.

“Ah! I’m really sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, you aren’t hurt, right?” He practically jumped into a kneel, beginning to pick up his belongings.

“H-haha, sorry my friends always call me clumsy because I get too absorbed in my thoughts sometimes... hey wait, don’t we have English together?” His pump lips were pulled into a nervous smile, two crescent moon indents appeared in his soft cheeks.  

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Tsk, shut up and watch it next time will ya.” You shot him an annoyed glance as you continued to walk past. 

The people watching the scene gave a sigh of relief, a few gave a disappointed moan. They wanted a bit of entertainment, to see you throw a punch. But you just left him there, in a pile of his own stuff blinking at your shrinking form as you moved further away. After a few more turns you were finally in a more secluded hallway where the roof excess was located. You didn’t even bother looking around for any teachers, they knew they couldn’t stop you anyway. Your crummy sneakers squeaked as you made your way up the two flights of concrete stairs until you finally pushed the steel door open, the warm Spring air kissed your face. Taking a moment to breathe in the heavy air, still better than being trapped in the building sharing the same air with those judgemental fuckers. From the distance, you could hear the hustle of the city that waited just past the stone walls that enclosed the school. Walking to the side of the fenced-in rooftop you plopped yourself down, back leaning against the shallow wall and metal chain-links. Tilting your head up to the cloudy blue sky of Seoul. A nice Spring day. Reaching into the secret pocket you had sown into your cousin’s old jacket, you pulled out a paperback. The cover was rubbed a bit too much, many of the pages had been repeatedly dog-eared, but the spine of the book was still in good condition. Flipping to where a yellow post-it was, you peeled it from the beige pages and began to read the small black words. 

You felt yourself getting pulled into the pacing and atmosphere of the novel before your concentration was shattered by awkward coughing. Once more annoyance began to bubble up inside you, you glanced up at the fidgeting boy in front of you. Great, you internally rolled your eyes. You just continued to pierce into him with your dead stare as he chewed a bit on his lush lips, trying to find the words to say to you. This went on until you finally had enough. 

“What.” It came out a bit harsher than you expected but at least it made him snap out of his trance. 

 “Oh...um I wanted to return these to you. It fell when we bumped into each other in the hall...” His long finger held a small crab keychain connected to your apartment keys.

You held out your free hand, and he gently dropped them into your wrapped palms. “Thanks.” You muttered, tucking the items away in a more secure pocket. 

You returned to reading your book, expecting the dimpled boy to just turn around and leave. But not everything one expects will always happen. 

“So, um what are you doing up here?” He looked down at his soft leather dress shoes. 

When you didn’t respond, he just tried again. “Beautiful day huh? Not too hot either.” 

You tried your best to ignore him and focus on the book, the next few chapters reading were due next period anyway. 

“Ah! A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith. Are you cramming in the readings that were due?”  He leaned his face closer, the dimples popped out on to his cheeks again. 

“Yes, but a dumbass keeps bothering me with sad conversation starters.” You snapped the paperback closed, a finger holding your spot. 

When your eyes met his honey orbs once more, he flinched at first, but then melted into a warm grin this eyes morphing into eye smiles. Deep dimples getting deeper. Even with your obvious annoyance at his presence, he stuck out a hand to you.

“I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m Kim Namjoon.” His hand waited for yours to return a handshake.

Instead, you just stared at it, then back to his face as if to say ‘seriously?’.  “You already know who I am.”

But the name rang a bell, sure he was in your English class (you never knew until he told you), but you had a feeling that you had met him somewhere before that. When you shifted a bit, the clacking of your key and keychain made something click in your memories. You remember sitting next to the dimpled boy during freshman orientation when he spotted the same crab keychain and complimented you on it. You said thanks and though that would be the end of it, but no the boy just kept gushing about crabs; how cool and cute they were and of how he loved to catch them to observe them. He then went on and on about useless facts that you couldn’t give two shits about. During the principles speech to the incoming freshman class, you quickly jumped into an empty seat far away from the crab freak as he focused on every sentimental bullshit that came from the old geezer's mouth. 

“You’re that crab freak.”

“Haha ouch, but at least you remember me.” He scratched the back of his head. Fingers brushing against his deep brown locks. 

You stared at him for a few minutes before you heaved out a heavy breath, “what do you want, crab freak.”

“It’s Namjoon!” 

You shot him a glare and he quickly snapped his mouth closed. 

“Um... I was just wondering if I could sit next to you. To eat my lunch outside, ya know, enjoy the nice Spring breeze.”

“No.”

“Cold... please, I promise I won’t bother you! I... just want to eat up here, it’s peaceful.”

“No, don’t you have friends to eat with? Go away.”

“Well, I do have friends but... they don’t have the same lunch as me... so...”

“Fuck off.”

“C’mon, please? I’ll give you some of my lunch.”

You thought for a moment. It was your lunch period after all, but you refused to go to the cafeteria for their shitty food. But you were hungry after just having a box of milk from the vending machine as breakfast. 

“What is it?” You glanced at the lunch box he held out to show you, there was a cartoon lion on it, Ryan, you believe that's what its called. 

“Pork cutlets with rice, in a ginger BBQ sauce.”

Fuck that sounded good. Your resolve couldn’t last long when the promise of food reached your brain. 

“Fine, but let me make this clear. This roof is my spot, and this will happen just this once.” You scowled at him as he beamed.

“Thank you so much!” He plotted himself next to you, a good six inches separated your bodies. 

You turned your attention back to finishing those last few chapters as he took the food and chopsticks from out of the navy bag. Surprisingly, he kept his promise to not bother you, Namjoon just sat there and enjoyed the nice Spring day. Your attention from the book only strayed when you turned to get a piece of the pork cutlet or a bite of rice. You were correct, it was damn good. ‘His mom must be one hell of a chief,’ you thought as you chewed the tender meat. Soon enough your eyes skimmed past the last few words that were written by Betty Smith, and you snapped the book closed and stretched. Right after you placed the novel down, you grabbed the container from Namjoon’s hands.

“H-hey!”

“Shut up, this was our deal.”

“I said we would share!”

“Too bad.” You took a big bite of rice.

From the corner of your eyes you saw his lips drop into a pout, he reminded you of a puppy with those honey eyes. 

“Humpf, alright I guess.” He soon flashed you that damned dimpled smile. 

There were a few seconds that passed where only the sound of your chewing filled the quiet space.

“So, what did you think of the book?” Namjoon tilted his head as he asked the question. 

You originally just wanted to ignore him and focus on the food, but maybe it was the nice breeze or your full belly that made you have a change of heart. He’s giving you his lunch, the least you could do was humor him with a small conversation. 

“I don’t know, just some sentimental bullshit, cheesy as ever.” You shrugged.

“Ah... I really enjoyed the book. It’s like as we read we see Francie grow up to a strong woman, like the trees in the book that grew from nothing.” He looked up at the sky, a twinkle in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, but all of that was ruined by the shitty deus ex machina the story pulled.” 

“Huh?” His curious eyes looked back down at you.

“Once the mom married that rich dick all their problems were magically solved,” you paused to swallow. “Just goes to saw ya how money solves everything.”

“Well, I didn’t interpret their marriage like that. I just saw it as them finally being able to move on and chase happiness. McShane is such a nice guy and they love each other. It was tragic for them when Johnny died.”

You placed the container down along with your chopsticks, a frown ever so present on your lips. His doe eyes followed your movement, concern was present in them. Stuffing the book back into the hidden pocket you stood up.

“Listen, everyone is free to think about the book however they please.” Turning your head to give him a cold stare. “But I’m telling you that it ain’t realistic. Poor shits like them in the real world don’t have that kind of luck to get happiness by fucking a richer dick. They’re just gonna be unlucky poor shits, working themselves to death only to blow their meager earnings on booze.” 

You turned back around to walk towards the door back into the school. “Ha, at least the alcohol might have finally done its job on Johnny boy.”   

With that you walked through the doorway, it slams shut behind you as your foot took the first step back down. Leaving Namjoon alone and dazed again by your actions on the rooftop, the Spring air still rustling his hair. 

You almost forgot about the conversation you had with the nerdy crab enthusiast on the rooftop, just going through your other periods either sleeping on the desk or looking out the window. Your teachers gave up on trying to make you pay attention to their copy and paste slideshow lessons. You breezed through those periods like it was any other day. Finally, the bell rang which signaled your last period before you could leave without getting in trouble; not that you cared, you just didn’t want to be dragged back by the cops again. You casually scrolled into your English classroom and dropped yourself down at a desk in the far corner of the room. Pulling the book and a pencil from out of your pocket, you placed them on the desk. Then proceeded to rest your head on the desk, you just wanted this day to be over so you could take a walk around the city, maybe steal from the convenient store down the street. You felt a presence standing over you, peering up your suspicions were confirmed. It’s Namjoon again. 

You almost groaned out of annoyance. “The fuck do you want now.”

 “Nothing just wanted to say hi again.” He gave you a soft eye smile.

“Okay, now go away.” You buried your head back into your arms.

 He followed your orders and sat back down in his desk, a few rows away from you. Then the bell rang and the English teacher, Mr. Young starts the class off with a reading check. The details of the last chapters were still fresh in your head so it wasn’t a problem. English was probably the only class you gave some effort in, not that you would admit it. After collecting and organizing the papers on to his desk he cleared his throat.

 “Alright class, as you all know the end of this school year is coming real soon. So, as per tradition, you will be assigned a final project. You and the partner I pair you up with may use any of the novels we’ve read this year, connect any of the themes of the book with a real-world counterpart. Now before I explain any further, let’s get you into your assigned pairs.” 

You rested your face, on one hand, leaning on the desk. Your mind began to wonder as he called out names you won’t bother to remember, belonging to a faceless crowd. Then you heard him call your name.

“Huh?” You snapped your eyes directly at Mr. Young.

He let out a breath of frustration, “If you actually paid attention you would’ve heard that I paired you up with Kim Namjoon.”

Your face almost showed your disdain of being paired up once more with that annoying nerd. Mr. Young continued on. “Now that you have your pairs, this project is worth half your final grade for this class. It will be due in two weeks. I suggest that all of you use the class time wisely and start planning.” 

And with that Mr. Young sat back down at his desk and began to grade as your classmates got up to their partners. It didn’t take long for Namjoon to take a seat at the desk next to yours. You a quick glance at him, and yep that stupid dimpled grin was on his face.

“Wow, I can’t believe we actually got paired up!” His honey orbs stared at you, eager to hear your reply. 

You internally weighted the pros and cons of being his partner. He is super smart, the smartest in the school in fact so you probably won’t have to do any work. You reasoned, however, he’s super annoying. You guess you just had to deal with it to get a free A in the class.

 “So, I was thinking that we should make our project on the novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. It’s a very interesting story and I think you would...” 

You tuned him out after that, not bothering to listen to the words that seem to just gush out of his mouth like a broken dam. You took the time to observe him and his strange fashion sense, denim overalls with a white shirt and dress shoes? ‘Where did he get this outfit idea from? The farmer’s market?’ You thought.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

You snapped your attention back to his face. “Were you even listening?” His lips formed a pout once more. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a bit at his ridiculous pestering of you, he really didn’t know how to read social cues. Finally, the bell of freedom rang and you shot up from your seat, taking your pencil and book with one hand you began to walk towards the door.

“Hey! Wait! You didn’t listen to my plan, how are we supposed to work on this together?” He called out after you.

Stopping you turned your head to face him, then a cruel smirk stretched across your face. “Do it by yourself, nerd.” You disappeared into the crowded hallway. 

After retrieving you black bag from out of your locker, you walked out into the courtyard the air filled with the chatter and latest gossip. You paid the people no mind as you focused on walking towards the gates you had just crossed it when a voice behind you boomed out through the air.

“WAIT!” All the chatter in the courtyard quieted down, their eyes peering at the source of the cry.

You took in a deep breath and turned around. Yep, it was Namjoon marching towards you with his cheeks flushed from the commotion he just caused.

 “You’re really pushing it.” You sneered out at him as he stopped right in front of you. 

“Sorry, but we need to work on this project together.”

“I told you to do it yourself.”

“No, we have to work on it together! It’s life half your English grade.”

“I don’t care.” You turned back around and began to walk away. “If you care so much just fucking do it yourself.”

“H-hey no, that’s not right. Tell you what, would you be willing to work on it together with me if I treated you to a meal right now?” He took long strides to catch up.

Your pace slowed to a stop, he froze right beside you.

 “What am I? A fucking dog?” You growled at him, a murderous glare pierced into him.

“N-no I-”

“You think you can just throw me some food and I’ll follow your every command?” You stepped a bit closer to him as he back away a bit. “Be honest with me, did the bitch ass teacher make you chase after me?”

People and students on the street couldn’t help but stare at the scene before them as they walked by, mumbling amongst each other. ‘Poor kid.’ ‘Shit! In broad daylight?’ ‘Is a fight going to start?’ ‘I want to watch if it does.’ ‘Don’t, she’s gonna fucking tear him limb by limb.’

He stood back up straight and cleared his throat while readjusting his glasses. “No, he didn’t. I’m doing this of my free will. I... didn’t mean to offend you in any way... I just wanted you and me to work on this project together.”

He scratched the back of his head, the blush on his cheeks also grew darker. “I, um, also wanted to invite you out for a meal as an apology... because I seem to have offended you during lunch... and now... but also because I... enjoy talking to you.”

You blinked at him, hardly processing the words he just dumped on you.

 “What the fuck?”

“You’re very interesting.”

“You tryna ask me out, fucktard?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

In an instant, his face flushed a violent red; reminding you of the shell of a steamed crab. 

“N-no! Not like that! Just an apology meal! On me!” He stuttered and began to flail his hand around, trying to explain why it wasn’t a date. 

You just stood there watching as he got more flustered by the second, his face was turning so red you believed he was going to past out soon. His face, the freaked out gestures of his hand, and the nervous pitch of his voice. You couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, stopping him mid-freak out.

 “Fine, fine. I was getting hungry again anyway. Whatever, but I get to choose where and get to eat as much as I want.” You shifted your weight and peered up at him.

Namjoon’s face was frozen in shock at first, but then a stupid grin broke out onto his face again. “Sure, eat as much as you want!”

“Be careful, I might eat you into financial ruin.” You began walking down the street once more.

“I doubt you will.” The dimpled idiot trotted back to our side, a slight bounce in his step.

You just rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help feeling the smallest smile tug at the corners of your mouth. ‘This fucking nerd.’ You thought.

  Hey! It’s me again, back with one out of the many wips I finally and actually finished writing! Woah! Expect a part two of this series real soon because I’ve been on a roll with this story. I might also be posting another Joon fic again, sorry but I just have been inspired by him so much lately. I’ll try my best to finish the wips I have of all the other members and post them as soon as I can, but please be patient with me! Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed this story! Feel free to drop by my inbox!

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts senarios #bts x you #bts rm imagine #bts rm x reader #bts namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon x you #namjoon angst #bts x reader angst #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #bts x reader fluff #bts highschool au #highschool au #highschool

[sunooragi]

hugs & cuddles.

Minhyuk x reader.

Word count: 1696 / Genre: Angst, fluff.

Summary: dreams seem to play with your mind.

-

The weather was cozy, the day was perfect to be sipping hot chocolate from a mug, eating s'mores and some butter cookies, but here I sat quietly in my chair, my eyes just following the clock hands until it hit the hour to go. It was barely three in the afternoon, that means I had to wait almost two full hours to go home.

Life sucks for me right now.

To be honest life always does the wrong to me. I mean it was december the 25th and I had to work the whole day, but I didn’t care at all because I had no one to spend the Christmas day with so, whatever.

We barely received calls on days like these, of course because people was fucking spending time with their families, but as I said I didn’t care anymore. My lonely soul did not mind about it.

The phone ringed transporting me out of my thoughts.

“Merry Christmas to you, how can I help you in this wonderful day.” I answered politely.

“Umm hey, merry Christmas to you too.” The person in the other line replied, it was a woman.

“Thank you. May I help you madame.” I asked her again.

“I want to order for a take out.” She said confusing me a bit. “I want two orders of pork belly with fried rice and an extra of grilled vegetables.” She paused.

“Ohh.” I exclamed. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a restaurant, you got the wrong number.” I apologized to her.

“Oh Lord! I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. ” She said with an apologetic tone in her voice.

“Don’t worry, it happens a lot.” I replied comforting her. “And I hope you’re having a wonderful day.” I added.

“Same goes to you sweetie.” She said and then she hang up the phone.

After that wrong call the phone barely ringed, I better say it just didn’t do it.

I sat a whole two hours playing on my phone and scrolling through some online shops, filling the shopping cart with stuff I will never buy because all my money was currently being used for rent, food and medicine.

Since I moved to Seoul my health has been going downhill. I always think of moving back to my home with my family in Suwon, but I wanted the idol life. I wanted to live big, but I guess life had other plans for me such as working in a call center.

I sighed in relief when I saw the paddle of the clock hitting the glorious number five. I picked up my stuff and headed outside in the speed of the light.

For my sake the bus I always take was almost arriving, that means I was getting home earlier than I thought.

On my way to my apartment I stopped by the convenience store to buy some snacks and drinks.

After I paid for the stuff I continued my rute to my place.

Since it was winter the sky was almost dark, you could see the some Christmas lights on and some music playing while you walked through the narrow street. It feels so good to know that some families still keep the spirit, but just a few. It’s not like I was in a disneyland parade.

I rushed to the entrance of the building and climbed the steps of the stairs two by two, even my bones were freezing by the time I reached my front door.

I opened the door and walked directly to the kitchen after I was inside the little rented flat, I left everything above the counter and decided to guide my way to take a hot shower.

Well, I was actually praying to all the saints to find hot water once I opened de tap.

I took everything I needed from my shelf and headed to the bathroom. I put my grooves playlist on suffle and opened the water, for my sake it started pouring hot steaming water and I almost cried out of happiness.

After I finished with that, I got into comfy Christmas pajamas and slippers, because even though I didn’t have anyone to celebrate I can still keep the spirit to myself.

I made hot chocolate and warmed up sweet bread to eat with it, I also got my laptop and logged into netflix to get in the mood for the night and some christmas movie to play.

I didn’t notice when I fell asleep, but I woke up to someone running their fingers through my hair. My lids were still closed, the feeling of that hand driving me directly to fall into my beautiful dreams again.

Was I still dreaming? Or too much chocolate made my mind create such things as this.

The hand kept going, now going down to the little hairs growing in the upper part of my neck.

Still enjoying what I called dream I got comfortable on the two places sofa I was at then I felt a soft fabric covering my body, a blanket I guess.

I was roaming in the clouds because this was too good to be true, too unreal for me to wake up from this dream. I wanted to stay like this, I wanted to believe this was my reality, I wanted to think that my love was the one holding me in his arms.

“You look like an angel.” A voice said in the lowest tone, I could recognize it. I actually did it, but didn’t wanted to open my eyes to find nothing.

I don’t want to face the real life at this moment.

I shut my eyes harder trying to change the scene of the dream to somewhere else, a place where his voice was the last thing I could listen to. Where my thoughts couldn’t bring back the memories of the good part of my life. It was sad, it was depressing comparing what my life was and what it is now.

The tears were coming out, damping my cheeks with the good memories that will never ever come back to me.

Fingers wiped the tears away and without thinking I grabbed a hold in the hand responsible from the actions. The sensation was real, too real. I slowly opened my eyes finally waking up from my sleep.

His eyes were there looking directly to mine, his hand resting on my cheek.

More tears started to pour out, because I couldn’t believe it this couldn’t be real.

I took the sitting position again and the started to pick at my skin, and it hurted.

Minhyuk took my hands in his and said nothing, he just looked at me for what it felt like hours. Tears still falling from my eyes.

“I… How…how…?” The words came out uneasy and suffocated.

“Take a breath.” He said trying to calm me down and breathing with me as well.

“How the fuck are you here?” I said to him calmly.

“I’ll explain you later I promise, but now may I.” He said and not even waiting for me to reply he embraced me.

It took me by surprise, but I hugged him back. I missed his warm hugs, his presence, his soft skin.

I missed every part of him.

“I missed you so damn much.” He mumbled on my hair.

After a while our embrace softened, our foreheads connected, his soft hands running on my exposed skin.

Nothing, but just caring intentions.

His lips when from my forehead to my nose and then my lips, giving me pecks with his lips all over my mouth area.

“I decided to break some rules to be here with you, I know I’m not the best boyfriend, but…”

“I love you, remember that.” I told him as I holded his hands in mine. “I sometimes feel my patience running out, but this is your work and I know you’re just starting. So please even though we’re not together, please don’t give up on us.” Now I was cupping his face in my palms.

“I’ll do it, I can’t let something this minimal to ruin us.” He replied with full optimism in his voice.

Our bodies were now occupying the small space of the sofa. I was almost falling to the floor, but Minhyuk’s arms still held me hard enough to not let me fall.

His breathing tickling me in my neck making me tremble inbetween his embrace.

Now I took the initiative and started to give soft kisses to his neck on purpose, I knew he was the ticklish person I’ve ever met.

“Stop, stop.” He almost shouted, our laughs surrounding the small place.

“Stop, what is that.” I said and I found myself falling on the floor.

Our fight kept going, running around the sofa and back and forth the kitchen and the living room.

I felt a pair of arms picking me from behind and holding me tightly.

“Are you staying the night?” I asked out curiosity.

“If you want me to.” He said looking at me from where he was. “I wouldn’t mind, I want to sleep next to you and I want your beautiful face to be the first thing I see in the morning.” He said with a small smile.

I turned around to face him.

“Can you stay? I mean are you able to do this.” I stated. “Why aren’t you with your family? Why did you stay in Seoul?” I blurted a bunch of questions to him.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He said quietly. “My company didn’t let me go back to my hometown. They say there’s no time for me to travel, but don’t worry they actually gave us a few days free to relax and I’m thinking of spending them with you.” The look is his eyes was sincere.

I mouthed an “Aaah” and nodded.

“So what are the plans for tonight umm.” He kinda asked me.

“What do you think of some Christmas karaoke and some hot chocolate.” I looked at him with happiness all aroung my face.

It was a happy Christmas to me after all, some company from the love of my life and a good time.

#monsta x #minhyuk #lee minhyuk #monsta x lee minhyuk #monsta x one shot #monsta x scenarios #minhyuk scenarios #minhyuk oneshot #fanfiction #fic #cute #couple #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshots #jooheon #i.m #changkyun #wonho #shownu #hyngwon #kihyun #monbebe #fanfic #short story #oneshot #monsta x oneshot

[debussyanddarcy]

raise a tiger verse, yuri's prom/homecoming/junior prom/winter formal

part of this verse 

excerpt: 

Yuri begins mixing up his rice and pork in methodical circles. “He just sees me as some dumb kid,” he says into his bowl. “Even though I’m eighteen. I’ve been eighteen for two months, damn it.” He sags down into his seat until his forehead is pressed against the cool countertop. “What do you do when you like a guy,” he mutters to the floor.

“It helps when you have a common interest,” Yuuri says thoughtfully.

Yuri scoffs. “What was yours and Viktor’s common interest?”

“The difficulties of raising a cat,” Yuuri says vaguely.

“We don’t have a cat,” Yuri says.

“No, of course we don’t,” Yuuri says, patting him on the head absentmindedly as he leaves Yuri to finish his food in isolated misery.

OTABEK ALTIN: I won’t be able to come back this weekend, sorry

YOU: oh

YOU: why not?

OTABEK ALTIN: College things. Finals.

YOU: ok

YOU: next week?

OTABEK ALTIN: Of course. See you then.

*

“But what do you mean you’re not going to prom?” Viktor asks, a perplexed furrow in his brow.

“Prom is stupid,” Yuri mutters sullenly, not looking up from his phone, “and ‘m not goin’, damn it.”

Viktor eyes him carefully. “Well,” he says, “I suppose if that’s your final decision.”

“It is,” Yuri hisses, and for once, Viktor leaves it at that.

*

Yuri should’ve known better.

“Viktor says you’re not going to prom,” Yuuri begins right as Yuri stuffs his mouth with a large spoonful of katsudon. Yuri chews irritably at the pork cutlet and rice, glaring as Yuuri watches him calmly.

Yuri swallows. “So what if I’m not? I don’t want to. And you can’t make me.”

“No, of course not,” Yuuri says, soothingly. “But it just seems very sudden, is all. You said you were going to go, and then all of a sudden… you weren’t. I was just wondering if something happened to change your mind.”

“Nothing happened,” Yuri says, viciously stabbing at his eggs. “No-thing.”

Yuuri leans back in his chair and waits.

“I just,” Yuri starts.

Yuuri smiles, patient.

“I don’t have anyone to—to go with,” Yuri mutters.

“You can always go in a group of friends,” Yuuri suggests.

“There’s nobody—that I want. To go with. That. Can make it. Or. Would want to.” Yuri grits out.

“Ah,” Yuuri says, completely unsurprised. “That’s unfortunate.” He stands up and crosses the kitchen to dump his plates in the sink. “Well, it’s up to you. But I think it would be a shame to miss it altogether just because of a boy that can’t make it.”

“Who says I’m missing it because Beka’s not coming back!” Yuri snarls, and is treated to the sight of Yuuri’s beatific smile. “Ugh. Fuck.”

Yuuri turns back to the sink, and Yuri lets himself get lost in the sound of running water and clinking dinnerware. “S’ stupid,” he mumbles. “Obviously he wasn’t gonna go with me. We’re not. Dating, or whatever. And he’s in college, why would he go to some dumbass high school prom?”

Yuuri makes a vague noise of assent.

Yuri begins mixing up his rice and pork in methodical circles. “He just sees me as some dumb kid,” he says into his bowl. “Even though I’m eighteen. I’ve been eighteen for two months, damn it.” He sags down into his seat until his forehead is pressed against the cool countertop. “What do you do when you like a guy,” he mutters to the floor.

“It helps when you have a common interest,” Yuuri says thoughtfully.

Yuri scoffs. “What was yours and Viktor’s common interest?”

“The difficulties of raising a cat,” Yuuri says vaguely.

“We don’t have a cat,” Yuri says.

“No, of course we don’t,” Yuuri says, patting him on the head absentmindedly as he leaves Yuri to finish his food in isolated misery.

*

Yuri does, in the end, wind up going to prom.

He sits in the corner of the ballroom, dressed in a navy-blue tux Viktor had bought specifically for the occasion, shoulder-length hair pinned up loosely in a bun. He stares morosely down at his second glass of punch that night. It is, unfortunately, not spiked.

“Wanna dance?” Kenjirou asks him, grinning widely.

“No,” Yuri says flatly, and Kenjirou shrugs before spinning away.

“That was rude,” Viktor admonishes him, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere. Yuri glowers.

“Why are you here,” he hisses.

“They needed last-minute chaperones!” Viktor says innocently. “Yuuri and I wanted to do our part for your school, as they have provided you with such valuable education—”

“Leave me alone, old man.” Yuri shoves him away, right into Yuuri’s waiting arms. Disgusting.

Yuri downs cup after cup of un-spiked punch, in the vain hope that if he drinks enough it will magically turn into alcohol. But Viktor and Yuuri are frighteningly efficient as chaperones, and several students who attempt to slip alcohol into the punch can only back away in the face of Viktor’s eerily mechanical smile and Yuuri’s disappointed frown.

Thirty minutes later, Viktor and Yuuri begin to dance.

Yuri reaches for another cup of punch.

*

Maybe Yuri’s a little desperate. Maybe he’s a little lonely. Maybe he’s a little of both.

YOU: pls save me

YOU: Sent a video.

OTABEK ALTIN: …is that Yuuri lifting Viktor up

OTABEK ALTIN: …with ‘Time of Our Lives’ playing in the background

YOU: YES

YOU: SAVE ME

OTABEK ALTIN: Sent a picture.

YOU: wtf

YOU: you’re BACK IN TOWN you asshole

OTABEK ALTIN: I know. Sorry.

OTABEK ALTIN: Do you want some ice cream? My treat.

YOU: I am so pissed at you

YOU: you are buying me the whole damn shop

OTABEK ALTIN: That’s fair

YOU: be there in 10

*

“You!” Yuri barrels through the doors of the ice-cream shop, immediately zoning in on Otabek in the corner, idly licking at two scoops of dark chocolate chip. He’s wearing faded blue jeans and an old sports jersey. He looks good, Yuri thinks irritably, even as he points an accusing finger in Otabek’s face.

“What would you like?” Otabek inquires calmly. “I’ll pay. I said so.”

“I said I wanted the whole damn shop,” Yuri snaps, but Otabek only watches him without a word.

“Rocky road in a waffle cone?” Otabek says as Yuri continues to glare at him. Yuri only barely manages to refrain from flinching. It’s his usual. So what if Otabek remembered? So what.

“Fine,” he mutters, “but this isn’t over yet!”

Otabek returns with Yuri’s ice cream, which Yuri digs into greedily. “So,” Yuri says, valiantly battling a particularly nasty case of brain freeze, “what are you doing here? After you said you weren’t gonna be back.”

“It was a last-minute thing,” Otabek says, sighing quietly. “I couldn’t sit in my dorm any longer, staring at my books. Had to get out, you know?”

Yuri narrows his eyes at him. “And why didn’t you text me when you got back?”

Otabek sighs, a little more heavily this time. “It’s your prom, Yura. I didn’t want to—interrupt.”

“Interrupt!” Yuri spits out a little bit of ice cream, appalled at the very notion. “It’s a stupid prom. It doesn’t even—it doesn’t even mean anything, not if—”

“Not if?”

“Nothing,” Yuri mutters, wilting beneath Otabek’s impassive gaze. Still, he determinedly says nothing, focusing instead on the crunch of his waffle cone between his teeth. He steals glances at Otabek out of the corner of his eye, noting the breadth of his shoulders, the bruises on his knuckles. Otabek has—really nice hands.

It’s a realization that’s he’s been sitting on for a while now. Not the nice hands thing, though that is a part of it. But rather, the realization that he prefers Otabek’s company to just about anyone else means something… else. Something deeper. It’s the realization that he’d wanted to go to prom with him, and only him, as stupid as the idea had been. The realization that he’s sitting at an ice cream parlor with him on prom night, and he can’t imagine being anywhere else.

What would Yuuri do, he wonders.

Find a common interest, the Yuuri-voice in his head says.

What would Viktor do, he wonders next.

Something stupid, he immediately decides.

Well, he thinks, a little hysterically, go big or go-fucking-home.

Yuri takes a final bite of his ice cream and stares at Otabek’s sports jersey. It’s a Barcelona jersey.

With the look of a man going to war, Yuri leans across the table, meeting Otabek’s gaze head-on. “Beka,” he says, hands balled into fists, “do you—like Messi?”

spot the kdrama reference~

#fic #yuri on ice #yoi #otayuri #ish? #superman i don't think this is what you had in mind #there's very little prom that's actually in here #kixboxer #raise a tiger verse

[jungkookienoona]

The Meme and His Tutor

Part 8: The Time Jungkook Nearly Killed The Tutor With His Cooking

Recommended Song: Eat by Zion.T

|All Chapters|

Summary:

You arrive in Korea where surprises await you.

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2887

Length: 8/?

You arrived at Incheon airport relatively jet lagged after what was nearly an 11-hour flight. You tiredly ran a hand through your hair while you waited at the luggage carousel for your suitcase. After a few that looked a bit like yours but didn't have your red ribbon tied to them went past, you finally spotted your own and grabbed it. You didn't know if Jungkook had arranged transport for you so you ideally stood and wondered if you should get a taxi to Seoul. Passengers swarmed around where you stood to the side waiting, either wheeling their suitcases towards the exit or greeting those who waited for them.

Taking out your phone, you noticed you hadn't taken it off flight mode; notifications flooded your phone as you turned it off, mainly SNS, until it buzzed with a Kakao message: 'Someone should be waiting with a sign with your name on. See you soon :)' Your eyes scanned the people waiting outside the arrivals, looking for your name. Then you spotted it. Not that you could miss it, the sign was HUGE. 'Y/N-NOONA' was being held up by a person dressed in all black. Black beanie, sunglasses, mask, t-shirt, leather jacket, skinny jeans and Doc Marten's. You recognised that ensemble.

It was Jungkook.

A huge smile broke across your face as you ran towards him. Spotting you, he lowered the sign to let it hang by his side as he waved enthusiastically with his free hand. You slowed a few steps from him; the urge to run up and hug him was there but you didn't quite know if your friendship leant to that yet. Jungkook, however, held no reservations and dropped the sign to catch your hands, tugging you towards him.

"Surprise Noona, did you know it me?" His voice came out hushed, not wanting to risk the people around the two of recognising his voice.

"Ye. You wore a similar outfit on 1st December 2016."

He leant back to look at you, you could barely make out his facial expression. His eyebrows were furrowed.

"Noona remember weird things."

You shrugged, causing your backpack to slip off the one shoulder it was slung up on and fall into the crook of your elbow.

"Oh," He took a step back and grabbed your suitcase. "Let me help."

You tried to protest but he shook his head and after raising the handle to its full height, gestured for you to follow him.

"You my guest." He said, voice muffled by the mask he wore. "You no worry about things, Jungkookie take care."

Your cheeks flushed causing you to look down so he wouldn't notice. Why did he have to have this effect on you? You mentally cursed him for being your bias.

"Noona had nice flight?"

"Eung (Yeah). The food was nice and the seats were really comfy."

"I have another surprise for Noona at dorm. Tae-hyung waiting to see you too."

Upon reaching the automatic doors, you were greeted by a man who introduced himself as Hobeom, one of Bangtan's managers. The baseball cap he wore obscured his eyes, yet he offered you a warm smile and took your case from Jungkook. The two guided you away from the exit and towards the pick-up point where you stopped in front of a black SUV, tinted windows and all.

"And here I thought you might be putting your driving licence to use."

He lowered his mask and took off his sunglasses now that you were out of the crowded airport.

"Came straight from studio. It 46-mile drive back to Seoul so want to be lazy."

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline when he said that. But then you had a small idea.

"Could I... maybe... nap... during the journey?"

"If Noona want too."

"I fell asleep a little on the plane but I'm still-" A yawn broke your speech and you hastily turned away as you stifled it into the sleeve of your hoodie. "-tired."

He chuckled lightly.

"You sleep, I'll wake you when we in Seoul."

You nodded, balling up your hood to create a makeshift pillow at the base of your neck. The car jerked into action and soon you were on your way in the otherwise quiet car apart from Jungkook's low humming to the radio. His low humming helped you to drift off to sleep. Just before you fully fell into dreamland you felt a gentle pressure push you to rest your head on a warm surface.

"Sleep well Noona"

The light shaking of your shoulder stirred you from your slumber. Wiping the sleep from your eyes you opened them to find Jungkook gazing down at you, the crease between his brows smoothing as you came around.

"We're here." He said softly, shifting to reach between you to undo your seat belt.

A little delirious from sleep, you let him help you down from the car out his door as it was on the pavement side.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Ye, you're warm."

He quickly pulled his mask back up and looked away from you, obviously embarrassed for some reason. He scratched the back of neck then handed.

"Your stuff stay in car for when you go to hotel."

"Okay." You replied.

Jungkook then turned to Hobeom discussing something quickly; you managed to pick out a few words and assumed they were discussing when to pick you back up. The manager said something which Jungkook dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"Is everything okay?" You wonder causing him to look back at you.

"I'll drive you to hotel later, so Hobeom-Hyung go home. That good?"

"Ye."

"Ok!" He says with a bright smile, "This way, Noona."

He grabbed hold of your wrist and practically dragged you to the dorm.

He opened the unlocked door with a shout of "Tae-hyung! Y/N-i wass-eo! (Y/N is here!)"

Suddenly the sound of running echoed through the door until a blur of tan and bright coloured clothes collided with you. The impact caused you to grunt and then Taehyung was pulling back to give you his box grin.

"Noreul Y/N? (You're Y/N?)"

"Ye. Annyeonghaseyo Taehyung-ssi."

"Hyung," Jungkook said as he dropped a pair of slippers in front of your feet.

Taehyung turned to him with bright eyes, he was, even more, smiley than you remembered from the fan meeting.

"Is it ready?"

You look up from your feet having shuffled into your slippers.

"Is what ready?"

Taehyung giggles, hands flying up to his mouth as he twists on the spot and takes off through a door across the room. Jungkook started to follow Taehyung but then paused and turned to you.

"Oh! Noona! Cover eyes!"

He jogged around to come up behind you and place his hands over your eyes and led you from behind. You bit your lip in an attempt to repress a squeal; Jungkook's body heat seeping through your clothing as he carefully nudged you aside. Your leg bumped into something and you blindly reached for it, holding onto the wood with your left hand to steady yourself.

"Hana, dul, set-"

Your eyes were uncovered and landed on Taehyung opposite before dropping to the table.

"Ta da!"

Your eyes grew to the size of the dishes in front of you. Had they prepared a fucking feast for you? There was rice, seaweed, breaded cod fillets, spinach, potatoes in soy sauce, green onion pancake, kimbap, and kimchi.

"You cooked all of this?"

"Tae cooked most because I pick you up from airport. I made kimchi."

"Surprise!" Taehyung sang, raising his hands to wriggle his fingers in jazz-hands fashion.

Jungkook gestured for you to sit and rounded the table to take a seat next to Taehyung who poured you a glass of water from a jug.

"Kamsahamnida," You said, accepting the drink and took a small sip. "It all smells delicious!"

You were thankful that there were no meat dishes like pork, beef or chicken. Jungkook must have remembered your dislike of them. The first thing you tried was the cod. You made a small sound of approval then had a mouthful of rice. It was so fluffy. You set your eyes on the kimchi and became wary, knowing it to be a spicy dish. You took a small amount to try and promptly started choking with tears quickly forming in your eyes. Taehyung made a strangled noise, slapping Jungkook who was already out of his seat and making his way to you.

"Oh my god," He mumbled, hand hovering over your back before throwing caution to the wind and tapping you lightly. "Are you okay?"

A series of coughs overtook your body as you began to cry.

"JUNGKOOK-AH! YOU KILL Y/N!"

"Too spicy... need milk..."

"Mok? You need drink? Water water!"

You coughed some more, "Milk!"

"Melk?"

"Milk!"

"Mylk?"

"MILK!"

"Milk?"

"YE!"

At that point, tears were running down your face and you felt like your throat was on fire. Jungkook quickly made his way to the fridge looking for the dairy product you had requested. He made a dismayed noise.

"Only yoghurt."

Taehyung was bent over double laughing his arse off. You beckoned him over, snatching the little bottle out of his hand and ripping the foil top off in desperation. To hell with it, you chugged the drink stopping once to wince at the odd combination of flavours. Note to self: never, ever add strawberries to Kimchi- not that anyone in their right mind would do such a thing in the first place. If it weren't for the fact that you were focused on drinking the yoghurt you would have uttered every swear under the sun. You glared at him over the rim then finished the yoghurt.

"Fuck Kook, who taught you about spice ratios?"

"Eomma and Jin."

There was a brief awkward moment between you two.

"Next time not so much gochutgaru (Chilli flakes). Also, buy some actual milk."

He nodded once, "Yes, Noona."

And picked up the empty bottle, taking it to the trash before returning to the table. Taehyung, having gained some sense of composure, reached for the kimchi dish and pulled towards their side of the table.

"I buy milk on way back from hotel," Jungkook said.

You offered him a thankful smile and resumed eating your rice, taking sips of water every now and again when you felt a tingle on your tongue.

"Good because I swear to god I saw the light for a second."

Taehyung said something and you looked to Jungkook for a translation.

"He said that Jin-hyung said it not good kimchi if you no see light."

You had to laugh at that which had him smiling. You tried the other dishes and were happy they all tasted rather good eliciting sounds of happiness from you. Jungkook grabbed a pair of chopsticks and joined you.

"Eat well." He chirped, tucking into the kimchi hungrily now that you had no desire to do so.

Taehyung too eyed the dish, and during a moment where Jungkook had paused to answer you, he attacked, snatching the mouthful of cabbage from between the younger's chopsticks.

"Yah!" Jungkook cried, diverting his attention from you to raise a threatening fist at the giggling boy. "Jeobsiga gadeug chass-eul ttae wae nae eumsig-eul gajyeo gani? (Why take my food when there is a plate full?) Juggo sip-eo? (Do you want to die?)"

Taehyung's box grin returned, "Eumsigmul-eul dodugjilhamyeon eumsig mas-i joh-a jibnida (Stealing food improves the taste of food)."

"Neoreul silh-eohae (Hate you)."

Looking between the two, who had moved on to picking at each other's bowls of rice, you thought back to all those times you had imagined what it would be like to spend time with Jungkook, as well as the members, in the dorm. Chewing on a piece of cod, you looked around the room. It was anything but minimalistic, each of the members' personalities injected into every inch of the room through books and photos in frames, to sticky notes on the fridge door.

"Ah! Noona, other members be back from studio at 3 afternoon. Wanna play video games?"

You looked back to the food in front of you, realising most of it was gone then look back to Jungkook who had just stuffed his mouth full of food so his cheeks puffed out. Cute.

"Sure."

He swallowed, an arm extending as he punched the air.

"We play Overwatch?"

"You'll have to go easy on me."

Taehyung shook his head as he stood and took his dishes over to the dishwasher.

"Jungkookie very good. He go no easy."

The said gamer smirked at you, "Hongbin-sunbae can't beat me."

"Teach me how to play Kookie."

A few minutes later, with the table cleared, you're pulled out of the room and into another by Jungkook. He let's go of your wrist expecting you to follow him to his desk, but you're frozen. You stand in the doorway, eyes roaming the walls and floor. Fuck. You were in Jungkook's bedroom. As you stood there you wondered how many people would kill to be in your position but you quickly stopped that thought once you realised that you would be the one they want to kill. You felt a little shove behind you, Taehyung was trying to usher you into Jungkook's room.

"Go on. No shy."

The creaking of a chair alerted you of Jungkook having spun around to wonder what you were doing. He beckoned you over and pat the seat of the chair next to him. Taehyung gave you another nudge and you relented, shuffling over and taking a seat. Concern flit across Jungkook's gaze so you reassured him with a smile and spun to face his computer. The first thing that caught your eye was a folder on his desktop that said 'Noona Memes' (누나 밈) which caused a confused look to appear on your face. You snatched the mouse from him and double clicked.

"NO!"

You silently thanked your lucky stars Jungkook's used a wireless mouse when you were able to whip it out of his reach, hiding it behind your back- no need to use it when the folder was open and...

"Holy shit."

Giggles from Taehyung could be heard behind you, however, you were too focused on the screen to take notice.

"Noona~" Jungkook whined, pushing your chair away with his foot so he could stand between you and the screen.

"Move."

The sight before your eyes were multiple screenshots from your skype sessions, all photoshopped to be a meme in some way. Some had text made up of broken English while others were in Korean. Some even had your face photoshopped on to existing memes. You focused back on Jungkook and pointed at the screen.

"Wae?"

"Uhhh..." He drawled, eyes wide and darting from you to the pictures. "I don't have-" He swallowed, thinking of the word. "-explanation."

"Sit down."

He did so wordlessly.

Taehyung came up behind you.

"Woah."

You placed the mouse back on the desk and clicked on one of the pictures. It was a perfectly timed screenshot of you missing your chair. From the outfit, it looked to be from the day he was shirtless. The text edited onto the image was in English and read as 'Noona try be graceful. Noona fail.'

"Why are you making memes out of me?" You said, turning to him in disbelief.

"Army makes memes of me." He said with a shrug.

You clicked the next arrow: a picture of you sinking low in your chair, which probably wouldn't have been bad if the angle wasn't awful making it seem like you had no neck. Jungkook recognised this as the text read 'worm' in Korean.

"That's it, your lessons will now be done without the video feature."

"No Noona! Aniya~"

"You shouldn't have compared me to a worm."

"I'm sorry!"

He took hold of your hand causing you to flinch slightly in surprise. He let go as if you scorched him, assuming you did it out of being uncomfortable.

"Don't be mad!" He pushed out his bottom lip, eyes wide and pleading. "Please!"

"Pabo maknae"

You couldn't help but ruffle his hair to show you weren't really that mad. You just had to get revenge. So, then you had 2 revenge schemes in the works.

"So, Overwatch. Teach me how to play."

He eyed you carefully, uncertain as to whether you were pulling one over him. You offered him the mouse which he accepted and wiggled to wake up the screen. Hastily closing the folder, he booted up the game. Taehyung clapped excitedly behind him.

"Jungkook-ah teached me."

"You know how to play. Noona need learn now."

You had the sinking feeling you would regret asking to play Overwatch. An hour past and to say you sucked (even for a newbie) would be an understatement. Taehyung laughed at your every death while Jungkook looked like he had started doing breathing exercises to keep calm.

"Yah!" He yelled, player swinging around in a circle while shooting at an enemy hanging upside down from a railing. "Up! Up!"

"I can't I'm dead!"

The chair creaked as you sat back in defeat and sighed. Jungkook soon joined after dying.

"You," He reached to prod your side, "Are bad."

"I'm not bad. I'm shit."

A/N: Co-written with @tragicshadows  

#boop #JungGuk #jungkook #jeon jungguk #BTS jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongkook #jungkook love #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #bts #bangtan #bangtan scenario #bangtan imagine #bangtan fluff #tmaht

[victakestaipei]

WEEK 4 RECAP: “Power, Chase Bank Complaints, and TYPHOON SEASON”

As I stated in my previous posts, I’m really really really sorry for the delay here on my WEEK 4 RECAP. Granted, my weeks have started to become pretty routine; But I still like to keep my word with you guys and blog every weekend, despite the topic being my humdrum weekdays.

Anyway, let’s get to it:

Monday: 

My monday was one for the books, honestly. I stayed in bed all day long blogging and doing homework and just being a bum. It felt awesome. We got in from the Philippines early this morning, and I didn’t actually get in the bed until about 4am, so I took the liberty of playing hooky, and NO RAGRETS! 

I only left the house to get breakfast with Bunny... We went to this breakfast joint by our house and I splurged on an egg scallion pancake, a breakfast sandwich, orange juice, and a hash brown patty. It was bomb, but who am I kidding, it’s always bomb. I didn’t end up doing my homework until later in the evening, which ended up backfiring because I had SO MUCH HOMEWORK TO CATCH UP ON. It was actually pretty insane, but I still got it all done. For dinner Bunny and I picked up some potstickers from the place right outside our dorms that you all have already heard SO much about because we literally go there multiple times a week. Like I said in my intro... HUM. DRUM. 

Tuesday:

Today we went to the bakery before class, I had my daily tea, and barely survived the 3 hour period. After class we went to the gym, and I did leg day today. My legs were shaking so much, it was like they had turned to jelly over the weekend. I think this is due to the fact I took 4 days off🙄 but I managed to get my mile down to 8:30 today!!! Y’ALL!!! BASK IN THE GLORY!!! Progress!!! Slowly but surely!!!  

After the gym we went to a restaurant on the Shi Da market for lunch, and ordered fried chicken curry with rice and veggies. It was super good, and only 100 NT! (About $3.35 US).  

Afterwards, we went home and I took the longest shower ever, and then a nap (I really really needed it). I got up just to do homework, and then crawled back into the bed. I found a website that lets me watch Power online so that I can FINALLY catch up to the new season. BLESS UP!!! I started watching this show over the summer, but then I got caught up with other stuff so I never caught all the way up. I last left off on Season 2 Episode 7, but I heard the new season 4 is BATSHIT CRAZY so I need to catch up PRONTO. (Also, can I just take a minute and say I freakin’ hate Angela??? Ugh. Tasha is a ride or DIE and Angela comes waltzing in and I’m just mad as hell. Ghost is such a punkass. I literally cannot deal. Let me shut up while I’m ahead before ya’ll comment and spoil something for me.)

...He still fine as hell though... :-’)

For dinner we went to the Gong guan night market to get Gua Bao (remember those pork hamburger things from my “WEEK 2 RECAP” post? “Gua Bao? Gua BOMB!”) and egg scallion pancakes. We didn't leave the house until after 11pm, so alot of our options were closed at that point. 

Wednesday: 

I actually got up on time to head to the bus, and I was WELL RESTED!! Wow, such a rare occurance. In class I got a 95% on my dialogue quiz today. I’m getting used to pulling these A’s, but our lessons have gotten significantly harder so I find myself reviewing the characters twice as much as usual. Ew.

At the gym I did chest/shoulders/abs. I wore the wrong leggings to the gym today... I wore my normal black leggings instead of my work out leggings, so I didn't do cardio because I didn't want to be all sweaty in my normal cloth leggings... I don’t know I'm weird I guess?? But my ass was looking PHAT at the gym since I had normal leggings on hehe

After the gym Bunny and I tried this Italian spot by our school. They have a lunch menu where you can get a dish AND a side for 99 NT!!! (3-4$ US). What a deal!! I ordered pesto penne pasta and pumpkin soup as my side. Pretty plain, but still super yummy!

After lunch I went home to shower and do my homework and relax. Bunny and I got dinner around 9 because we were STARVING more than usual. I guess the soup and pasta didn’t do it for me. We hopped on the bus to head to Gong guan, but we missed our exit so we ended up taking the bus all the way to our school to go to the Shi Da night market there. MIND YOU I LOOK LIKE A CRAZY CAT LADY. I twisted my hair up and put on two bandanas after taking a shower and putting product in... and I had on a long flowy printed dress I got from the Philippines. Needless to say I looked crazy, in my shower flip flops. We got the soy sauce noodles to-go, with green beans, udon, cabbage, broccoli, and tofu. I also got to chat with my mom on skype tonight which was nice, after struggling to get her speakers to work (for like 20min) so she could actually hear me. I stuffed my face while on the phone with her, and she cheekily said “how come whenever I get you on skype you ALWAYS EATIN??” Then proceeds to laugh hysterically and say “you gonna regret it!! It’s gonna go straight to your hips!!!” ......So charming *eyeroll*, gotta love her lol.... 

I went to bed super late because I had the migraine of a lifetime. I think it might have been because I didn’t get a tea this morning... Caffeine headaches will be the death of me.

Thursday: 

I woke up with the same migraine, and was moving slow because I was so tired and my head was banging!! It was like the drummer guy from Whiplash was putting in WERK on my forehead. I was about 10 minutes late to class... I tried to rush because I knew we had a test in class, but I just couldn’t bring myself to get out of the bed on time. Kokoro (the Japanese student in my class) and I rode on the same bus to class, he was late too because he had gone clubbing last night! On a Wednesday??... Turns out, it doesn’t matter what day of the week it is here, it’s lit at the club every night. 

Class was good today. It didn't feel like it dragged as much. But, I was starving the whole time because I didn’t have time to grab some food before strolling into the class. Our teacher referenced the upcoming typhoon today! Meaning, it will be pouring, dumping rain all next week, starting this weekend. There will also be fierce winds. She told us how many people stay home and grocery shop a lot beforehand because transportation and a lot of businesses are closed. For those of you who don’t know, a typhoon is basically a hurricane. I'm not mentally prepared. Our teacher said that typhoon season lasts three months, starting in August. I’m nervous about the food aspect because we don't have a fridge in the dorm so I'm about to be eating perishables all week... canned beans and rice? God, I’m not excited. But maybe class will be cancelled a few days this week? A girl can dream!!!

In the gym it was leg day yet again! My legs weren’t half as shaky as tuesday so that’s good. I ran a 8:45 mile, after almost DYING on the first treadmill I hopped on. I was adjusting the speed and the treadmill skipped and I almost flew the fuck off. My arms were flailing and I let out this loud/awkward noise and everyone was looking at me. I caught my balance and didn't die, but I definitely quietly turned off the machine and moved to another treadmill shortly after. I think that messed up my mojo because while I was running I was constantly paranoid of the same thing happening on the machine next door. 

After the gym the three of us went to Shi Da market. I pulled out cash from the ATM but was pretty bitter about it because I looked at my bank statement and my bank (Chase Bank) charges a $5 FEE WITH EVERY NON-CHASE ATM WITHDRAWAL that I make... THAT ADDS UP?!!! Are u kidding me??! I’M BROKE AS IT IS CHASE, CUT ME SOME SLACK!!! I'm so salted. I hate Chase Bank. They suck ass. Do you know how many WITHDRAWALS I’VE HAD TO MAKE WHILE HERE??? I need a Charles Schwab account because it seems like they’re the only bank not trying to PLAY US.

I tried a new place for lunch where they had these small fried dumplings. I would show a picture but I inhaled it so fast that I didn't get to. So here's a picture of the box...hehe

I also got some more dragonfruit today    V   so so good.

After the gym I came home, showered, and relaxed. I ended up napping around 8 and woke up at like 10:30pm... I did my homework in class so I'm probably just going to eat something small and crawl back into the bed. I got a banana at the Family Mart convenience store and some apple juice and a pack of yan yans. Yan Yans are those pretzel stick things that come with the chocolate dip and they’re super good?? I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. I talked to Karis on the phone, and then Paris shortly after that. It was SO GOOD to see Paris’s face and hear his voice after so long. :-’) I miss you roomie!! I knocked out again after hanging up with him.

Friday: 

This morning I woke up to a power outage on our Gong guan campus. If this is any tell of how the rest of the weekend/next week is going to be with the upcoming typhoon, I am not ready.

I got a 99 on my quiz today... I. AM. HURT. It was so so close I could taste the perfect score!!

Today I brought my umbrella to class because the typhoon starts this afternoon/evening. Class breeezed by because there was only 7 of us today. It was back day at the gym, and it was great! I’m definitely going to be sore. And I did some booty workouts on the floor afterward. After the gym we went to Gong guan market (the one by our house, not the Shi Da one by campus) to get some food and look for a SIM card for Bunny’s phone (so that she can have a local phone number and consistent data). We stopped and got pork buns and mango before heading home. 

When I got home I finally was able to decompress from the long week. I relaxed for a few hours before leaving the house at 10pm to go to the grocery store with Bunny. When we got to the grocery store, it was about an hour or so before closing, and it looked like the apocalypse hit. All the shelves were sweeped, but we got some food to get us through the weekend.... Like wine and rice and potatoes and eggs and snacks. After the grocery store we headed home to relax and shelter away from the upcoming typhoon.

Saturday: 

I made breakfast this morning after finally leaving the bed at 1:30 pm. I made eggs and papas!! - An old fave. (Jaylene I miss you). I also cut up some apples too to eat with peanut butter. It was good, but the papas weren't up to par because I only had two seasonings... Sad day. 

The rest of the day was spent in bed, watching Power and being a couch potato. At 8:30pm our power went out again, but only for a few minutes. It was getting pretty crazy outside at this point. You could hear the wind howling and tree branches swinging and water pushing its way through the cracks in the closed windows of the bathroom/bedroom. 

At 9pm is when I spilled my Pink Moscato on my laptop. HOW COULD SOMETHING SO SWEET BETRAY ME SO HARSHLY?? My computer immediately died after letting out this depressing noise and became completely non-responsive...and so did I. I was on the brink of a meltdown. To keep from succumbing to panic, I put my phone on DND and went to sleep at 9:30pm. I literally knocked the hell out. That’s the best way to avoid problems/conflict right? Take ya ass to sleep.

Sunday:

I woke up by 4:45/5am, and reality set in. I spoke to my mom on the phone, and she helped calm me down and rationalize the situation. I was a mess. I still am a mess. I cannot afford a new computer right now, and I'm nervous about going to get it fixed because I don't want to be taken advantage of, and I wouldn't know the difference either way... I'm clearly foreign. But I have 8 years of memories and information stored on this laptop, so I'm not letting it go without a fight. I called a few places that claim to fix Apple products on Google, but none of them turned up with any real answers. So after 12pm, I ended up going to the Apple Store at Taipei 101. I took a quick shower and brought a bunch of stuff I figured I might need: my laptop, external hard drive, a flannel, umbrella, towels, a hat, and snacks. I've never been outside when there was a typhoon brewing so it's better safe than sorry right? As soon as I walked outside I could tell something was off. There weren't a lot of people bustling about, and there were countless fallen branches and leaves covering the sidewalks and roads.

I hopped on the bus, and then the MRT, to head to Taipei 101, the tallest skyscraper in Taiwan. I had this lingering thought in the back of my mind... let me illustrate... “Is it a good idea to go to the tallest sky scraper in Taiwan when there’s a hurricane with strong winds/ pouring rain just waiting to happen?”... All i could picture is the structure toppling over with all of us inside and causing this huge disaster, similar to something straight out of an Apocalyptic movie like 2012.... Anyway, I arrived just before 1pm, and come to find out, the Apple Store is CLOSED. I’m salty. All the lights are on and the store would otherwise look open, it's just that there's no one inside. It's completely empty. Even all the devices on display are powered on. It was kinda errie... Like those paper towns the military sets up, where it looks like a normal town and everything, just no one lived there...  I looked online (again) and went to their actual website where it says today (and only today) they open at 2pm instead of 11am. So I just waited around the mall for an hour until they opened. I found a bench and an outlet so I was just sitting here chilling....Glad I brought my snacks. ;)

When the time finally came to go back to the Apple Store, that overwhelming feeling came rushing over me again. I ended up crying like a PUNK to the customer service lady. So annoying!!! Ugh. I was a fragile mess. I spoke to two different managers who both spoke perfect English, and they helped to reassure me that they would try their best to help me. I have to come back tomorrow for a walk-in appointment with the Genius Bar. Fingers crossed they can help me, or at least retrieve/save my information. 

I left Taipei 101 feeling pretty defeated, so I got some McDonalds on the way home... I know it sounds silly but I needed comfort food and something that felt like home. I ordered the filet o fish (which I crave daily), with fries and a coke. This was not my best moment, but the whole meal only cost 95 NT!! (Less than $3.20). CRAZY! 

I came home and that’s when I started reading my book that I keep mentioning, “You Are A Badass” By Jen Sincero. It helped me to feel better and get into a better frame of mind. 

I took a break from reading to help Bunny make curry for tonight’s dinner. It was BOMB and came out fairly well if I may say so myself. I’ll definitely be making curry more often when I come back to the States.

I finished reading my book just before calling it a night. SUCH a good read I cannot stress this enough!!! I learned so much from Jen’s words and she adds funny stories/anecdotes and the way she describes things is just so relatable. If you have a chance to read it I definitely recommend!!!

I went to sleep pretty late, I was laying in bed catching up with Jay (via text) and other friends from back home. Before closing my eyes, I decided to practice meditation, which is one of the key concepts in the book. I wasn’t very successful the first time, because it was hard to clear my mind and just be still. I know it takes practice, so I’m going to try to dedicate time every day to meditate for at least 5 minutes! Feel free to join me on this challenge, it’s supposed to reap unprecidented benefits!

Also, please pray that when I take my laptop in tomorrow to the Apple Store they can fix whatever’s wrong!!! I need all the prayers I can get. I’m speaking it into existence now: MY COMPUTER WILL LIVE. IT WILL RISE AGAIN. IT WILL POWER ON.

Until next time,

xoxo

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #361

“the world is a vampire, sent to drain”

Have you ever been through a phase of thinking emo guys were hot? A phase? Hunny, they're still hot lmao. Have you ever dated someone that could play an instrument? Yeah. Juan could play guitar, and Girt played I think the tuba in band. What’s so horrible about wearing leggings like pants? I've actually never understood why people freak about this. Like so long as they're not sheer and fit you fine, why exactly is this a problem...? Weirdest picture you’ve ever taken of yourself? Oh dear. When someone claims to be suicidal, do you take them seriously? FUCK you if you don't. Honest to god, fuck you. This is NOT something you just don't even blink at. Even if it's surprising to hear from that person, you take that shit seriously and try to talk to them about it. Ever been kicked out of anywhere? Colleen's house. Ever had Skittles vodka? No, but that shit sounds good. Ever punched someone in the face? No. If you haven’t, do you want to now? Uh, I'll pass. Do you truly HATE anyone? No one I know personally, but people like rapists, pedophiles, etc., I sure as hell do hate them. Most historical/famous landmark/building you’ve been to in your country? No clue. Favorite flavor for most things? Strawberry, watermelon, or blue raspberry, depending on what the thing is. Ever taken pictures in a photobooth? Who with? Yeah: Summer, Jason, and I'm pretty sure Sara and I did? What is the closest book to you? It's a full collection of Poe's poetry that Mom got me. Are you reading it or someone else? I'm not right now. I may eventually. Milkshakes or Sundaes? Hm, I gotta go with milkshakes. Do you like watermelons more or cherries? I'm not a fan of either, but I'd definitely pick watermelons over cherries. Who was the last person you ate with? My family and I went to Ichiban (a Japanese steakhouse that we have here where they cook directly in front of you) yesterday to celebrate Nicole's graduation. Do you prefer broccoli or asparagus? Broccoli. I hate asparagus. Do you have any bug bites? No. Do you have any flowers in your room? No. Do you know anyone that owns horses? Loosely, anyway. It's a family I took pictures for, and I still have the mother on Facebook. When you were little, did you ever go to feed the ducks? Yes, I LOVED doing that. Don't feed ducks bread, by the way. Have you seen any of the seven wonders of the world in person? No. Have you ever won anything out of one of those crane machines? Yeah. Can you remember being taught how to ride a bike? Was it hard for you? Yeah. I don't THINK it was too hard. Did you get carded the last time you ordered an alcoholic drink? No. Do you know anyone who uses medical marijuana? No, it's not legal here. Do you know anyone who’s died in childbirth? No. Which was the worst phase in your life? 2016 was. Towards the end of '15 was the breakup, and through aaaaaaall of 2016, I was just dead inside and totally useless. Every day I wanted to be dead. Can you remember your last dream? I had a nightmare some stupid kids were fucking with my snake Venus, so I was trying to protect her. Do you ever use Snapchat? No, I don't have one. What’s your favorite musical? I don't like musicals. What happened at the last party you went to? Summer prepared some little Halloween treat bags for us guests, we watched a horror movie, and everyone but me smoked some weed. Are you more comfortable sitting or lying down? I would assume everyone is more comfortable lying down... Have you ever been a fan of N*Sync? Yeah, as a kiddo. Favorite kind of cake: Red velvet, yum yum. What is your middle name? Marie. TV shows and anime you watch regularly: None. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Just a big family of pets with a spouse. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Oh boy, I couldn't tell ya. Is Vegas one of your must-see places? No. Pet rat: yay or nay? YAY!! I've had many, but I don't think I'll get any more. I've just had bad luck with them, save for one that died of cancer at an old age. Would you call yourself a writer? Written any stories lately? Yeah. I haven't really written any big RP posts of the late, but I did recently write a poem. Are needles something that you’re afraid of? Okay, so this is super weird. Tattoos and piercings? No problem. Little prick, getting blood drawn, that sorta little stuff, no problem. I am, however, NOT a fan of big needles, which used to not be an issue. It's actually kinda recent, and it's why I'm nervous about my second Covid shot coming up, aha... What was the last unexpected hug you gave/received? I really haven't had an unexpected hug since Jason asked for one before he left my house after our final talk. Who was the last person you held hands with? Either my niece or nephew. Have you ever been in a parade before? If so, was it on TV? No. Do you have a fear of rollercoasters? If so, were you ever forced to go on one? If you don’t, what is your favorite rollercoaster? I have a big fear of them, yeah. Post a picture of you from a recent time. Don't feel like it. Who was the last person to give you some of their food? Miss Tobey let me try one of her dumplings yesterday when we were at Ichiban for dinner. The last person you met, what was your first impression of them? I actually didn't quite like her. Have you ever been to a football game? Yeah, because my sister was a cheerleader. Do you like the snow or rain better? Snowwww. Have you ever faked sick? Yeah. What is your blood-type? A-. Have you ever eaten a bug? Not knowingly. The last time you were in the fridge, what were you looking for? Salsa. Mom got these veggie chips at the store and they apparently taste better with salsa, which it did. They weren't great, though. Are you listening to anything at the moment? It's Gab Smolders' turn for me to watch her Resident Evil 8 upload, haha. I'm literally watching three different people (Mark, John Wolfe, and her) play it. Can you take a bra off with one hand? I haven't tried, I think? I doubt I could, given that I'm not exactly small. Do you have an innie or an outie bellybutton? Innie. Can you crack your neck? NOOOOO AND DO NOT DO IT AROUND ME YOURSELF. Are you donating your organs? Yeah; what am I gonna use 'em for? It just seems like a waste otherwise. They're just gonna decay. When was the last time you talked to you mom? Before she left with Tobey to go to the store. Do you like pumpkin pie? NO. I don't like pie, and I hate pumpkin. Do you own your own computer? Yeah. Did you ever have to share a room with one of your siblings? Yeah; growing up, my little sister and I did. Is there any piece of technology you want to buy? I REALLY want a PS4. Did you ever have a night light when you were a kid? Yeah. What TV show had you hooked from the very first episode? Meerkat Manor, 100%. I had to know that Shakespeare was okay. What is your least favorite Sour Patch Kids color? Orange or red, can't pick. Have you ever seen the movie Matilda? YES! I love that movie. What is the weirdest chant you have ever heard? Uh, idk. How are you feeling? Annoyed and hurt as fuck because shit Miss Tobey says without thinking for a single goddamn second. I'm honestly beyond sick of this woman. Do you know anyone with a unibrow? I don't think so. Doughy or saucy pizza? Doughy. Do you have anything that’s limited edition? Yeah. Do you have an air freshener in your bathroom? If so, what scent? I... think we do? If so though, I just don't notice it. The bathroom doesn't smell like anything in particular. Do you like Jalapeno Cheetos? Oh man, I forgot about those! Love 'em. Are you a fan of salads? Yeah, they're fine. I have to be in the mood for one, though. What’s one random thing that you don’t like? Uhhh carrots. What’s one random thing that you like? Shrimp. Do you like chicken noodle soup? I don't. Is it easy for you to accept loss? NOPE. I'm the absolute worst with it. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? I really wanna see Sara, so take me to Illinois. Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? No, but a former best friend had her birthday the day before mine. Is there someone you just can’t imagine your life without? Not anymore, honestly. After Jason, I stopped that "I can't live without you" mindset. Truth is I'm going to lose people through life, and I'm not attaching my ability to happily exist to anyone. Are you wearing a ring? Two. Have your friends ever stopped by your house just to say hi? In the past, yeah. Do you like Chinese food? Not really. I only ever get pork fried rice and eggrolls from Chinese restaurants. Have you done any shopping for something in specific recently? No. Do you still live in your hometown? No. What was the reason behind the last time you stayed up all night? I don't recall, honestly. I haven't done that in a very long time. Have you ever had a UFO sighting or a sighting of strange lights in the sky? A very strange light, yes. Have you ever seen your mom or dad drunk? Yes to both. Seeing Mom drunk is very, very rare though. My dad was an alcoholic when I was growing up, so I saw him drunk plenty. Do your parents vote? Mom does, idk about Dad. Who’s the most romantic person you ever went out with? Jason. What restaurant has the best fries? Nowhere has anything on Bojangle's, y'all. Have you ever had a surprise party thrown for you? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''bullet with butterfly wings'' by the smashing pumpkins