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#i noticed my app icon and was like fucking excuse me?????
nycorix · 11 months
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can't say this over there for fear of getting deleted lmaoooo but w o w I sure do hate the rebranding to x
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Derek wasn’t sure how much more he could take from Fox’s…strange fanbase. He didn’t mind stripping naked for his unhinged chat members, it fed into the pride he has for his body further really…but being forced to slice his wrist open?!
These people are fucking INSANE!
Good thing the beastkin kept an emergency first aid kit in his streaming room, as the blonde quickly grabbed it and tore into it as he took out some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and gauze.
He got to work on patching up his wound, not wasting ANY time so he wouldn’t potentially bleed out. Thanks to Derek often being on babysitting duty for his siblings when he was younger, he’s got some decent first aid knowledge…
He sighed in relief after the treatment worked, despite the rubbing alcohol making him hiss and swear under his breath. But…
God, his wrist still hurt like a BITCH.
“You…you mother FUCKERS…” Derek spat at the chat, grabbing his scattered clothes as he sloppily threw them back onto his body “You’re all fucking PSYCHOTIC! Yeah…I’m fuckin’ done here. Thanks for the money though, assholes!~ Might get myself another car since my last one got totaled…stupid fucking cunt didn’t use her turn signal…”
He went to open the door to make his way back to the elevator, and to the waiting room and act like nothing EVER happened here. “Just make up some shitty excuse for the cut, sliced myself on the chair or somethin’…”
Before the bratty man could make his great escape, a silhouette had already opened the door and was glaring at him from the doorway, making his blue eyes WIDEN as his heart sank to his stomach. Judging that the shadowy figure was VERY short with noticeable fluffy ears on the top of his head…
There’s no doubt this was Fox. He’s been caught red handed.
Oh shit.
“U-Uh…h-hi!!” The bottle blonde stuttered out “I was just…c-checking this place out because I was bored! That’s all!”
“Hmm…” Fox’s voice BOOMED across the room “Really now? Because…” He started to walk closer to the other, effectively backing him up against a wall as he held up what appeared to be his cellphone in the boy’s face “I have evidence that says otherwise, Goffard.”
The older man’s clawed finger tapped on a random app icon as Derek’s activities on the stream are revealed to be archived, he quickly scrolled past everything he’s done including the forced self harm, the stripping game…everything. He turned pale, his pupils dilating, sweat beading down his face…
Oh, he’s SO FUCKED.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself, young man?” Fox put his phone away and crossed his arms, looking unamused at the others actions. “Are you just going to stand there and cry like you ALWAYS do when you get caught pulling your bullshit? Hmm…or maybe…you’ll actually act like an adult take some responsibility for once?”
“Um…I…g-Well…” Derek stuttered before his flight response kicked in “Uhhh…THINK FAST!” He used his tanned fingers to pull back the beastkins suspenders and let them SLAP harshly against his nipple areas, making him let out a loud groan in pain and grab onto his chest as the other FLED into the hallway, the stench from the cells not even bothering him anymore as he was just focused on getting the HELL out of there as he ran and ran…
Before he felt a strong, familiar hand tightly grip onto his shoulder that made him stop in his tracks. When he turned, he found out that hand belonged to his father, Mr. Goffard.
Oh…
OH GOD NO.
“H…Hi dad!!!” Derek stuttered “U-um…I wasn’t doing ANYTHING!! Don’t listen to w-what that old fuck says to y-yo-“
“Can it, boy.” His voice was gruff, stern, you could tell he wasn’t having ANY of his sons bullshit today. “I already know what you’ve been up to in there. I’m not believing anything YOU tell me this time. Care to explain yourself?”
“W-WELL YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TAKEN SO GODDAMN LONG IN THAT MEETING! GOD, YOU ALWAYS DRAG ME HERE THEN EXPECT ME TO DO NOTHING! I’M NOT A FUCKING ROBOT DA-“
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DEREK!” He grabbed the boy by his shirt collar “YOU THINK THAT’S A DAMN PROPER EXCUSE TO STRIP DOWN AND SHOW EVERYONE YOUR-“
“GENTLEMEN, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE!”
Fox SHOUTED from across the hall, making his way to the arguing father-son pair as he tried his best to diffuse the situation to an extent. “I believe you’ve scolded your son enough, Mr. Goffard. Let’s calm down…” Derek’s father sighed and put him down, his son taking in deep breaths due to how his shirt collar choked him as his dad turned to the other “You’re right, sorry about that. You know I get…frustrated with him easily.”
“Mhmm, I’m very much aware of that. Let’s focus more on…
Deciding what his punishment shall be for making a mockery on MY livestreams, shall we?”
“Mm…good idea.”
The two towered over Derek, their eyes piercing into him as a nervous smiling formed on his lips.
“H…hah…oh I’m fucking SCREWED.”
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EVENT END.
((I’ll let you all use your imagination on what Derek’s punishment is! I think it’ll be much more fun that way. Any asks that mention your own interpretation on his fate will be correct ;] ))
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sunflowercheol · 2 years
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Hocus Pocus
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Eric Sohn x Y/N x Felix
Word Count: 683
Warnings: some cussing
A/N: honestly if you want me to continue this just let me know and I can make a part two
31 Days of Halloween | Main Masterlist
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It had all started on one weekly movie night that Felix hosted at his dorm that week—the day and place varies due to the schedules barely lining up, but it was never missed apart from during tours. It was your turn to pick the movies, and of course you went with the iconic Hocus Pocus movie. To make it better, the second one had recently came out, and you wanted to watch the movies both back to back with the two guys. 
It was halfway through the second one that Eric had the “brightest idea” of traveling to Salem to try and experience some fun. 
More like trying to see some paranormal shit but getting scared about it a second later, you internally sigh. 
“Should we go to Salem and see this for ourselves” is what Eric proposed to everyone. No one else really wanted to come or had something they had to do in the time that the two had planned to go, so naturally they dragged you into it and made you make time for it. Their excuse? What you made them watch gave them the idea. 
“It won’t be too scary, right?” Eric asks hesitantly as the three of you are in the terminal lobby waiting to board the plane. You turn to him and narrow your eyes at him.
“Nope, you will not back out of this. You guys dragged me into this, and we will see this through.” Felix chuckles as he keeps scrolling on his phone. 
“Do you want to hear my list of places we have to visit?” Felix asks, not bothering to answer Eric’s question. 
----------------
“Thank you,” you thank the car rental associate as you grab the keys and headed outside to the car lot. You notice the two boys standing engrossed in whatever Eric was showing Felix on his phone. 
“Got the keys!” you pop up behind them causing them to jump away and scream. 
“Dude,” Eric yells at you once he composes himself. “That wasn’t cool.” 
“I dropped my phone,” Felix pouts as he wipes it down and inspects it from any major damage. 
“Is it okay though? I’m sorry, Felix,” you apologize as you check his phone to make sure that his screen wasn’t cracked or anything. 
“Just Felix? What about me?” Eric whines as he tugs on your jacket sleeve. 
“Let’s take our things to the car and get some food,” you say, grabbing your luggage that they were watching over while you got the car situation settled. 
Eric groans as you lead both to the car. “So, what are you guys craving?” you ask as you all settle in the car. 
“Food,” Eric responds, buckling up. 
You glare at him through the rearview mirror and turn towards Felix. “Only you have rights right now, so what are YOU craving?”
“I want a bagel sandwich,” Felix responds and stops for a second. “I actually saw a TikTok of this bagel shop, and I want to try it! Can we go?” He looks at you with wide eyes and a slight pout. 
“Of course!” you smile at him. “What’s the address?” you ask as you open up the maps app on your phone. 
“Are you not going to ask what I want specifically?” Eric pipes up from the backseat. 
“Your privileges of recommending places to eat are revoked until further notice,” you tell him as Felix types in the address on your phone. 
“Not fair! Your favoritism is showing!” Eric yells at you. 
You buckle up and connect your phone to the car’s Bluetooth system. “Just wait til we get to one of these scary places you guys want to go to. I will fight for myself and myself only,” you warn them. 
“Not even for me?” Felix looks at you shocked.
You chuckle and put the car in drive as you look at Felix in the eyes. “To each their own. I got dragged into this, but I will not save your asses from some stupid shit because I will fucking run. You can bet on that.”
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astranva · 3 years
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TikTok Compilation (pt.2)
Word Count: 1.8k
Category: Fluff
Warning: Some language, very, very slight implied smut; like, it’s a line.
Summary: Yet another compilation of Y/N and Harry content on TikTok as a couple.
// masterlist //
a/n i’ve been receiving loads of tiktok requests so i combined some here! y’all have been asking for this for so long, sorry it took me long to post! let me know what you think. stay safe, friends!
..
Surely, you had hoped life would have taken a turn a long time ago with the pandemic.
Going outside without masks and crippling fear seemed like a dream, despite it all having been a reality for most of our lives. And while it was cliché, you truly don’t know what you have until it’s gone, like the boring routine you had complained about but now wished to get back.
And in your case, you also didn’t know that one app could have the ability to make things slightly easier during these times – TikTok.
Call it as you may, but quarantine TikTok content was a blessing and while you could swear by that, so could the fans and everyone else on the app since the moment you (and Harry) joined.
Having had tried so many pranks, challenges, and dances, you showed no signs of coming to an end of finding humor and pleasure from the app that Gen Z dominated with the wildest spirits.
With wild spirits, came wild content and for a generation that is openly expressive, there was also wholesome content; all of which Harry’s fans had tagged you to do and try with him.
‘Make your partner impersonate you’
For that one, Harry seemed to be the most excited to do, face beaming with a thousand spiraling ideas of things he could do and say.
The moment the video began, Harry was seen under your white covers, your pink velvet headband that everyone considered iconic rested on his head to show that he was acting like you, pretending to be sleepy as he spoke in a softer voice than his, “Don’t want to get up. More cuddles, please, baby.”
Then video then cut to Harry in the kitchen, you following behind him.
“I wonder where H is, need to pinch his bum.” He said in the same pitch he used for the previous shot.
The video then cut to Harry sitting on the couch beside you, holding his phone, “Baby, look at that!” He showed you his phone, showing you a video on TikTok, “Can we do it?”
‘Wipe your lips after your bf kisses you’
For this, you were picking Harry up from the studio.
Waiting in the parking lot, you had your phone placed behind the box of tissues.
To stay safe, you began recording a normal video for you to edit later as you waited for Harry to show.
When he did, Harry looked right and left as he searched for your car before his eyes fell on you and despite the mask on his face hiding half of it, you could tell that he smiled.
Getting inside the car, Harry took off his mask with a sigh, “First time to actually breathe since morning.” He said before leaning closer to you, pressing his lips against yours.
Doing your part, you looked ahead as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, noticing Harry’s body stiff as he looked at you.
“Did you just-” He paused, “Did you wipe your lips?”
You hummed in confusion, acting as if you hadn’t heard him as you looked at him.
“Did you-Come here,” he frowned before pulling you close by your hoodie’s drawstrings, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss again.
Again, you wiped your lips.
“Why are you doing that?” He asked, not only confusion being evident in his tone, but hurt, too, “Why are you wiping my ki-Babe, I’m clean.”
“What?” You asked, looking at him as you smiled amusingly, trying to contain your laughter.
“Why are you wiping my kiss?” Harry almost whined, frowning.
“I’m sorry, it’s for TikTok,” you giggled, breaking into laughter when he groaned with a roll of his eyes before he grabbed your jaw, kissing your lips more aggressively.
“Never again.”
‘Let go of your partner’s hand and see what they do’
If there was one thing Harry liked to brag about, it was knowing how to multitask; drive with one hand, hold yours with the other.
It was a natural occurrence for the both of you to hold hands when he drove, no matter what.
Deciding to try that one trend, you took advantage of Harry being focused on the road to film your intertwined hands on your thigh for two seconds before taking your hand out of his.
Instantly, Harry glanced at you, seemingly unaware to you tilting your phone in the other hand to film his face, “Why’d you leave my hand?” He only mumbled before opening his palm towards you once again, smiling when he heard you softly giggle as you put your hand back in his, cooing when he raised it his lips, pressing a soft and gentle kiss on your knuckles, “This stays right here.”
‘Film yourself acting like your partner’
Since the TikTok of Harry acting you like received so many reactions, among them were fans asking you to act like Harry as well, and Harry was down to watch that happen.
Harry recorded you, first shot of video being a little shaky as he couldn’t contain his giggles while watching you in his flared pants, an oversized shirt, his cross pendant on your neck between the valley of your chest, rings on your fingers that showed chipped black polish on your nails.
Your hair was gathered up in a scrunchie, one leg over the other as you sat on a chair, “I’m Harry Styles,” you began, “And like, I never explain my music, I let people interpret it the way they want because music,” you sucked a breath, “Is art. It’s a form of expression that isn’t limited, it’s, like, very open. Like the ocean.” You said slowly, mimicking Harry’s accent and smiling at the end when Harry burst out laughing.
For the next shot, you were in Harry’s white bathrobe, coming out of the bathroom before leaning on the doorframe and looking at Harry as he filmed you, “You sure you’re going to let me shower alone, love?”
Another shot was of you in Harry’s joggers and TPWK black hoodie, sprawled on your couch with the hood on, looking at Harry in disbelief as you still mimicked his accent and deep voice, “Excuse me? Why are you standing there and not cuddling me?”
In a grey tank top of his that you dramatically spilt water on to make it look like sweat and sweat shorts, you had Harry’s boxing gloves on your hands as you bumped your fists together, approaching Harry as he recorded, “God, I’m so sweaty, I have to go hug my girlfriend.”
For the final shot, you had Harry’s guitar in your arms, adjusting the strap as you stood, “I’m going to write a song that is so sexual and record it but I’m not going to release it because I’m a biiiiiitch.” You sang, dramatically strumming the guitar.
‘Pretend to take a mirror selfie with your partner then whisper something dirty in their ear’
You enjoyed the sun; the way it sneaked inside yours and Harry’s room from the sides of your curtains, lit up the room so warmly.
You enjoyed how the natural lighting looked for pictures.
You also enjoyed teasing the shit out of your boyfriend.
“Come here,” you made one grabby hand at Harry who entered the room, scratching his chin, “Let’s take a picture.”
Already used to random pictures being taken together, Harry reached you, standing in front of your vanity mirror as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss against your temple.
Oblivious to it being a video, Harry leaned his chin on your shoulder, giving his famous smug look to the mirror as you held up your phone.
Turning your head, you made sure your voice was low so that your phone wouldn’t pick what you said;
“Want you to pound me.”
And instantly, Harry’s smug look faltered; his eyes widening, face brightening as he looked at you as you giggled before releasing a squeal once you felt him carry you and move you from where you stood, and to the bed as you laughed.
‘Tell your partner your ex wants to return a hoodie of yours’
Propping your phone up, you made sure it showed Harry as he cooked while you sat on the kitchen stool.
You folded your arms on the table, clearing your throat as you eyed Harry while he was chopping carrots.
“Hey, H,” Harry hummed, stealing a glance at you before looking back at his chore, “My ex called earlier,”
At this, Harry’s eyebrows furrowed before he looked up at you, putting down the knife and leaning his hands on the counter, his arms seeming to look bigger as he tensed, “What did he say?”
Trying not to laugh, you looked down, beginning to play with your fingers before giving him a shrug, “Just that he still has a hoodie of mine at his place,”
“Yeah?”
“And asked if I need it back.”
“What did you say?”
You gave him another shrug, “Said I’ll let him know.”
“Well, do you need it?” He asked, “Like really need it?”
“Yeah, it was my high school’s.”
“But baby, you have a lot of hoodies,” one hand of his reached to his lips, fingers grazing his bottom lip for a moment, “Can get it for you.”
“That’d be so awkward, H,” you sighed.
“Why? I’m your boyfriend.” Harry reasoned, “Maybe I can just come with you,” he said again before his face lit up, “I can have it customized instead. Just tell me how it looked like and-”
“Baby, no,” you chuckled, “It won’t be the same.”
“Come on, love,” he frowned, “He calls you 3 years later to tell you he still has your hoodie. You don’t think that’s suspicious? He knows you’re with m-Everyone knows we’re together.”
“Maybe he forgot,” you shrugged, “Actually, let me call and as-”
“Oh, fuck no!” Harry instantly rushed to you.
‘Aggressively tell your partner you love them’
Chilling on the couch, Harry was watching the TV, unaware of your phone that had been resting on the shelf to record you beforehand.
You stomped where Harry was, whose head snapped to you, his mouth chewing his banana bite slower as he eyed you carefully, taking in your angry state.
You threw your notebook on the couch beside him, “I love you!” You said aggressively, a frown on your face as you pointed at him, “I fucking love you!”
Harry took a moment, his face shifting to one of amusement before he raised his hands up – one holding his banana – before pointing at you, “I fucking love you, too!” He screamed.
“No, no,” you shook your head, still aggressively speaking, “I love you more!”
“I’m so fucking in love with you!” Harry said as aggressively, standing in an instant, towering over you as he pressed himself against you before wrapping one arm around you, “Why are we shouting, you weirdo?”
‘Stick your hand out and see what your partner does’
Harry was sat beside you on his laptop, music blasting from it as he emailed himself some tasks.
Recording him with one hand, you reached your arm out, opening your palm at him.
Harry looked down at your hand, a smile making its way to his face before he looked at you before placing his chin on your hand, closing his eyes as he gave you a dopey smile as you squished his cheeks while giggling, “Hiii.”
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wherethewordsare · 4 years
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#44. Im your new neighbor and git locked out, help. With uhhhhh tiktoker jask who likes to sing in the stairwells 👀 bonus points if they become boyfriends loooool
thanks for the ask Cheese!!! I hope you enjoy!! <3
I also want to thank @buttercupbard for being a really amazing sport about me borrowing their handle for the tik tok bits!!! I’ve sent some weird dms in my life but honestly, that was the oddest CYA i’ve ever done. I’m super glad it worked out though!!! Thank you again so much, Buttercup! 
44. I’m your new neighbor and I got locked out, help!
The first time he heard it, Geralt had been taking his laundry down to the bottom floor because the units on his level were full. It was only for a moment, but who ever it was who was singing scurried away before he had a chance to make out the song they were singing. 
The second time, he had passed the door to the stairwell on his way to grab his mail. This time though he was careful as he pushed the door open as gently as he could. The lyrics to Blackbird resonated in the concrete and steel and it made Geralt want to call home. It was a song he remembered his father singing at the kitchen sink while doing clean up in the evening or working in the garage on weekends. 
Geralt tried not to be a creep about it, but it was quickly becoming a habit that was hard to break, sneaking into the side stairwell and listening to one of his neighbors sing. It felt somewhere between a terrible invasion of privacy and a private concert. 
There were songs that made him ache with nostalgia, where he ended up calling his dad after or texting his brothers. There were songs that made him want to go work out and go get something accomplished. And then there were those songs that made him want to climb the stairs and face that voice and take them into his arms because he sounded so lonely. Geralt usually slipped back out when those feelings started to creep in. 
Omg, Geralt, you have to see this dude! He’s insane!
Eskel sent him a link to a tik tok. It took a moment but after it loaded, Geralt nearly threw his phone across the room as if it had burned him. The only thing that stopped him were the blue eyes and brilliant smile that looked back at him. 
@buttercupbard 
I think my fan is back on the lower floor. Hope he enjoys today’s #lavieenrose 🙌🎶🌹🌹
Oh... Oh no! No no no, this could not be happening. Geralt watched, listening to the same rendition of La Vie en Rose he had heard the day before. Geralt knew only just enough about tik tok to know that the 500k under the little heart and the fact that he knew that this Buttercup Bard had only sung that song yesterday, he could deduce the facts in front of him. One, the singer knew Geralt snuck in to listen, and two, so did his probably thousands of fans.
Geralt clicked the little chat button on the side, pulling up the comments. 
“You should go say hello!”
@buttercupbard: Oh no, I don’t know if they’d like that, otherwise they would have come up to say hello by now! 
“Wouldn’t it be sweet if they found your tik toks?”
@buttercupbard: 👀👀🙈🙈🙈 Think they’d give me a review? Three words or less!
He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He wanted to walk up those stairs and be able to drink in the full view of this Buttercup Bard as he sang knowingly to an audience of one. He wanted the earth to crack open at his feet and swallow him whole. 
He went back to the video and pulled open Buttercup’s account, scrolling through what seemed like a lot of videos for just a few weeks. He found the one labeled Blackbird and gave it a listen. The caption simply said “This might be the last time I can sing here, someone came in again.” 
Geralt frowned as he paused the video, looking down at those bright blue eyes that kept flitting away from the camera to make sure no one was coming. Geralt remembered standing at the bottom of the stairwell, leaning against the cold concrete with eyes closed. It had been peaceful but now it felt as though Geralt had just been encroaching. He couldn’t go back, not now. What would he say if Buttercup came down. 
He also had to stop calling him Buttercup, but he had no other name for him. Geralt stopped going to the stairwell and he did his best to not pull up tik tok once in a while just to get his fix. He was doing fine, at least for a little while.
It was about three weeks later when Geralt finally broke down and opened the app he had downloaded just to watch Buttercup sing. That’s when he noticed the little pink ring around his icon. 
Buttercup was live right now. Geralt’s feet moved under him without his noticing, walking him to the door. His hand was on the handle as he watched, his whole attention on the screen in his hand. 
“I don’t know what happened to them. I guess I wasn’t meant for that kind of cheesy romance story after all!” Buttercup laughed and it sounded like a melody all in itself. Comments rocketed passed and Jaskier chuckled, ducking his head. “Well, you never know, I can’t be everyone’s cup of tea. Do you guys want to hear another song? I was thinking some Presley if you guys-” More comments poured in and Buttercup beamed. 
That’s when Geralt heard his door shut behind him. Locked. Fuck. 
He dropped out of the live stream and texted Eskel who took a few minutes but finally shot back that he was stuck at work and on the other side of the county. Geralt was going to have to find something to do until he could run over with the spare. 
Fuck. 
He couldn’t well stand in the hall barefooted. He looked down at his phone and sighed. There was only one thing to do. 
----
“Like a river flows, surely to the see, Darlin-” Jaskier gave his camera a wink, chuckling through the lines but below the door opened. 
“Uh, excuse me, Mr. Bard?” a voice came up, low and uncertain. 
Jaskier gasped, looking in the camera as the chat exploded. He put a hand over his mouth and winced.  
“Hello?” Jaskier dropped his head into his hand biting the inside of his lip. When he heard footsteps on the stairs he looked back at his phone and mouthed ‘Got to go’ and blew a kiss. Hopefully it didn’t lose him followers. 
Suddenly the follower count didn’t matter. When Jaskier looked up he was greeted by a wall of a man, his white hair pulled back and the most startling hazel eyes. His bare feet wriggled on the linoleum. 
“I hate to be a bother, and I know you were in the middle of something,” the man suddenly looked like he wanted to bolt. 
“You’re the one who was listening down a few flights,” Jaskier couldn’t help the grin that was breaking out on his face. His followers were going to flip. 
“Ah shit, sorry about that I feel like… I should go.” The man turned away from Jaskier and started to make his way back down the steps. 
“Wait. Wait, no. Don’t go. Stay, please. Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” His damn mouth got ahead of him. 
“I’m locked out of my apartment,” he stood there, looking up through the rail, frowning. 
“I… Jaskier.”
“What?” 
“My name. It’s Jaskier. Mr. Bard was my father,” he smirked, taking a step down. “Would you like to wait at my place until someone comes to your rescue? I have carpeting and coffee?” 
The other man laughed, leaning to press his forehead against the rail for a second before looking up. “It would be appreciated. I’m Geralt from 2C.” 
Jaskier tilted his head and smiled. “Well while we wait, Geralt of 2C, you can finally give me a review of my singing.”
“Hmm,” Geralt let himself be led up the rest of the stairs, “Am I restricted to three words or less?” 
Jaskier flushed and snorted. And to think he nearly made a habit of doing his videos in this bathroom.
---
You can drop me a prompt from this list here!!
Tag list as it stands now <3: @jaskierswolf @geraskier-trashh @elliestormfound @artistsfuneral @thetinymm @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @electricrituals 
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missinghan · 4 years
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time lapse ⤖ seo changbin
❖ genre : idiots to lovers! au; long-distance relationship! au; fluff; a teeny tiny bit of angst
❖ word count : 14,9k.
❖ warning : explicit language, suggestive remarks & mentions of alcohol
❖ summary : you used to see Changbin as a friend until you realized that you both don’t look at each other the way best friends are supposed to. 
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one.
Apparently, people like you and Changbin don’t look forward to spring breaks, ever, because you simply cannot see the point in getting pumped for the very few days of sleeping in only to dread every last moment of it. Hence, he keeps FaceTiming you every day and night with such ridiculous reasons it actually boosts your ego into thinking that he misses you. 
Oh, boy were you wrong.
But this time around, he seems so flustered and burnt up all of a sudden it makes a smirk creep its way up to your lips. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you’re more than satisfied like a sadistic predator. You can really use some tea right now, it’s been a little boring without any dramas other than Hyunjin being dramatic over how his hair does not look good in any way, shape or form. That alone is enough for you to throw him off a cliff because since when does Hwang Hyunjin not look good?
Changbin asks. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, I have. You’ve been asking the same question for five minutes straight.” You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible. 
He questions subconsciously, only to have you narrow your eyes at him. “You have work tomorrow, right?”
“Bin, you have my schedule. Of course, I have work tomorrow.” You utter in disbelief. 
“Can’t I just make up excuses to call my favorite girl?”
You make a gagging noise. “Cut the bullshit. Spill or I’m gonna whip out the big gun.” 
“And what is that?” He drawls the question in boredom. 
You grin at him coyly. “I’m gonna tell Chan to poison you with cilantro.” If Changbin had to choose between eating cilantro and jumping into a tank full of sharks, he’d definitely, without a second thought, sleep with those horrifying fishes with ridiculously deadly teeth. He hates cilantro with an ignited passion, and he’s entitled to that decision for the rest of his life. He’s sworn that he would never eat cilantro as long as he lives. 
“Fine,” Changbin huffs in defeat as he holds his phone up while lying on his bed. “I need your help.”
You twirl the end of your hair dreamily and acknowledge his request. “I like the sound of that, go on.” 
He shoots you a dirty look, proceeding to continue. “How do I get a girl to notice my feelings for her?” 
His words strike through your eardrums like a lightning bolt. You don’t know whether you should be crying or laughing because 1) Changbin was never the kind of guy to be interested in having a girlfriend, he has always kept his hands to himself since forever although girls were more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere; 2) How come he has never talked to you about this? You feel utterly betrayed because the key to having a long-distance relationship is to not hide anything from each other. And he’s doing the exact opposite of that; 3) You don’t feel as happy for him as you’re supposed to and now you feel like a horrible friend. 
“Oh-my-god.” You gasp scandalously. “I’ve been waiting for this day to come my entire life! And it’s happening right in front of my eyes! It’s actually happening! Wait… did you already pop your cherries or…” When Changbin looks like he’s about to put your head on a stick, you quickly realize that you should have just focused on the topic. 
He fakes a smile. “And what day is that?” 
“The day that my best friend asks for relationship advice from me! To finally embrace the most amazing thing to happen in life, called ‘love’! Duh.” You prop your head onto your hand, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. “So, who is she?” 
“I don’t know if you can really help me Y/N but she’s like 5,000 miles away from me right now—“
“What did you just say?” You cut him off unintentionally. “Is she an exchange student?”
“Yeah? You can say so..” He trails off and scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “We met on Tinder and got to see each other later at a uni conference, and she’s really—“
You cut him off again, this time, it’s intentional. “Run, just run away.”
“Why?” He looks at you weirdly. “You’re not making any sense right now.”
You chuckle creepily, making him shudder. He’s never seen you laughing in such a dark tone it makes him wonder if you’ve been possessed or not. “Running away is actually a smart move, my friend. Just get yourself out of the war before there’s blood on those precious fingers of yours. Exchange students get all the attention. Guys or girls, doesn’t matter. Students are gonna be attracted to them like a bunch of moths to a tiny spark of flame.”
“But, but—“
You stop him before he can even say something stupid. “No but. And a long-distance relationship too? Not ideal. You can’t just slide into her DMs and ask her to be with you when you’ve only met twice. Unless her feelings aren’t necessarily not mutual. But yeah, I doubt that.” 
“Whatever, I might as well just gonna fly home and watch some shitty movies with you instead.” Changbin purses his lips in boredom and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you wanna watch that zombie movie still? Zombieland right?” 
You nod eagerly because gosh, after months and months, he still remembers. It’s one of those little moments which perfectly showcases how much Changbin cares about you. Because unlike some people, he actually pays attention to what you’re saying. And you would be lying if you said that those little actions of his never made your heart tingle. They do, and it sucks. 
“Damn right, I’m pumped for the sequel, never really got the chance to watch it since college has been nothing but a bitch to me.” 
“You’re so fucking spoiled, Beastie.” He snickers, biting back a smile. But deep down, you can clearly see right through his facade and feel the slight disappointment in his brown eyes. Exchange student or not, if it’s what makes him happy, then you fully support his decision. And if that girl ever tries to pull a dirty move on him? You’ll hunt her down and sell her off to some random mafia organization. 
You laugh wholeheartedly, trying to lighten up the mood. “Listen, if you kept scrolling through Tinder, having a girlfriend wouldn’t be a problem. Because I’m pretty sure there’s not gonna be a single person who’d not swipe right.” 
Changbin cocks a brow. “Why not?”
“Because you’re hot as shit!”
He groans loudly at your bold statement, cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment. “Shut up, mom.” 
You smile cheekily at him. “Love you too, honey boo.”
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two.
As much as you clown Changbin for using Tinder since the day he asked you for dating advice, you can’t help but think that you’re a little bit lonely without his company. Funny enough, you also found yourself scrolling through the infamous app for hours and hours until there’s a match. 
The only thing that’s funnier than Changbin asking dating advice from a total fetus than you is you talking big games to him when you haven’t even got laid, not even once. So obviously, you’re so close to pissing your pants as you dread the drive to your date, tremendously. 
“Since when did you even start using dating apps?” Yeji scrunches her nose in disapproval as she starts the engine. You both just finished watching ‘Dolittle’ since Robert Downey Jr. is an icon and you’re not planning on missing out on any of his movies. But that’s not the point because the point is, your roommate knows your impulsive ass too well. Meaning, she’s not letting your day end without giving you something to feel better about it. More straight forward-ly, she’s trying to lighten up your mood before your date can piss you off. 
You singsong, trying to wiggle yourself out of the situation. “Since Seo Changbin asked me about a girl.” You know Yeji just as well as how she knows you, so you’re taking advantage of her carelessness to bring up a whole new topic before she can lure you into ‘the talk’. 
Yeah, ‘the talk’, sounds scary enough if you’re thinking about that one awkward, intimate conversation with parents about how babies are made. You think it’s utterly useless since society is basically corrupted and kids these days are all over the place, watching porns left and right with their parents’ IDs. So having ‘the talk’ with Yeji is definitely not gonna be full of questionable statements in replacement for making love. 
As far as you know, she only forces someone into ‘the talk’ with her when they suddenly have some kind of romantic interest in another human being. Upon hearing that, she’s gonna be out and about, playing the role of God and telling people all of the do-s and don’t-s along with a detailed description of how she’s gonna drag that person to the very bottom of hell if they end up breaking their heart. You’re sure as hell that you’re not ready to talk about it with her. In other words, you’re not ready for her to torment you about some boy that you haven’t even met. 
“Seo Changbin, dating someone?” Yeji fakes a gasp. “Wow, tell me all about it.” 
You roll your eyes at her. “So you knew?” 
You don’t know why you’re even surprised anymore since Changbin tells Hyunjin everything who’d spill everything to Ryujin for their midnight gossip session who’d complain about it to Yeji later on. The cycle is fully completed before you even know it and that does not make you feel any less of a dumbass. 
“Duh,” She purses her lips before making a turn at the second intersection. “Listen, just enjoy your date, I’m not gonna tease you about it until you tell me how much of an asshole that guy is.” 
You sigh in relief, drowning into your seat like a jellyfish. “Thank God.”
“But,” Your roommate drawls the word for a painfully long time. “Can we just talk about how it’s such a shame? You and Changbin would make an extremely adorable couple, right? I kid you not.”
You choke on your own saliva, coughing furiously as your hand desperately tries to roll down the window for some fresh air, mainly for the heat that’s slowly creeping up on the apples of your cheeks. “Who would ship me and my best friend together? That sounds like every drama to ever exist. Ew.” Hissing at her like a snake, you repeatedly fan your face with the hope to rid off the annoying coral tint. 
Yeji narrows her eyes at you and quickly diverts her attention back on the road because no one is getting pulled over on a gorgeous Saturday night, at least not her. She still has to finish the last episodes of the drama she’s been fangirling over. “So you’re telling me that you’re not jealous when Changbin told you about other girls? You’re totally, absolutely, entirely okay with him hanging out with some random chick in Italy?” 
It makes your blood boil even more when she mentions the fact that yes, Changbin is having fun with someone who’s probably ten thousand times hotter than you in Europe, but you’re more pissed off at the fact that she’s always right. Of course, you’re fucking jealous, why wouldn’t you? You can’t even fathom the sheer fury that’s running through your veins. Your heart is pumping pure exasperation into your brain. Even your liver can’t filter such anger. You hate the idea of Changbin wrapping his arms around someone other than you so much you’d rather choke yourself to death than even glance at such sight. 
But, for the sake of a completely normal conversation, your mouth says otherwise. “Why not? He’s not my property, I don’t get to decide who he falls in love with. Moreover, he deserves someone he truly adores. That’s not my business for all I know.” 
“Liar,” Yeji smirks. “Enjoy your date all you want, Y/N. Try not to think about Changbin too much or your date’s gonna flip.”
Again, you can’t stress enough how annoying Hwang Yeji is because somehow, in which you still don’t know how, she can read your mind in a snap of a finger. So it’s no surprise for her to know that you’ve actually thought about dating your own best friend before. It sounds so cliché you might bury yourself alive if you accidentally slip one day and confess your stupid feelings for him. As if on cue, your sixth sense is currently tingling, trying to tell you that you will definitely make a fool of yourself as you try to elaborate on how you feel about Changbin. 
“What did I do to deserve you?” You sneer sarcastically at her as she parks her white Rover right in front of the restaurant. 
The moment you step out of her car, Yeji tosses you a look. “Don’t you dare trip on me Lee freaking Y/N, don’t even try it.”
“I’ll have Minho pick me up, now skittle outta here.” You grimace before shutting the door close. Turning on your heels, you inhale sharply and push the glass door open to enter what seems like literal hell on Earth for the next four hours or so. 
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three.
Being on an actual date reminds you of why you never even use dating apps in the first place. 
The only part that prevents you from running away is that Yeji has his dating profile. She knows his number, his occupation, his face, and all that jazz because meeting strangers for the very first time and already eating out with them gives you every right to be paranoid. But you’re not gonna tell him that because you still respect him just fine. And in case he’s acting all sketch, you’re gonna make sure that he’s not going home in one piece. 
Okay, you can’t just blame Jaemin because he’s not an asshole. He really isn’t. He’s a nice guy in general: respectful, confident, and outgoing with a good sense of humor. Respectful? Checked. Confident? Checked. Good sense of humor? Checked. Outgoing? That’s the dealbreaker right there. You don’t hate him for it, it’s just he’s too outgoing for an introverted potato like you. 
Both Jaemin and Changbin have very strong personalities like every Leo should. You’re most definitely not an astrology nerd but you’re educated enough to know that Leos are dramatic, warm-hearted, passionate and impulsive. 
In which, Changbin makes you laugh your ass off until you can’t even breathe whenever he’s whining about you waking him up at 9 a.m. But you gave Jaemin nothing but a scrunch of your nose when he yelped out loud as his mashed potato was too hot. And you kindly offered to finish it for him after knowing that he can’t have dairy products. Changbin’s managed to get you out of the house every weekend even when it’s a simple trip to the mall and whereas, Jaemin makes you feel more of a voiceless being when he continuously brings up one topic after another at the literal speed of light. You almost miss how you can just throw out the most random sentence without being afraid of someone judging you. 
Clearly, Jaemin isn’t the one to blame here. 
Admittedly, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. 
And even more admittedly, it’s just because Na Jaemin is being himself, and will always be himself. He’s never gonna be, and will never be Seo Changbin. 
Seriously, what’s up with Changbin taking over your mind today?
“Do you perhaps wanna watch a movie after dinner— you’re not listening to me, aren’t you?” Jaemin stops mid-sentence when he catches your dreamy expression, for the fifth time that night. 
You quickly regain your composure and sigh in defeat. “Fine, you got me. Again.” Burying your face into your palms, you’re practically choking on your own frustration because you don’t wanna lash out on him just because he’s not your type. “Ugh, I’m sorry, okay? I’ve never been on a date with a stranger before. Who’d have thought talking on texts was so much easier?” 
Jaemin props his head on his hand and makes eye contact with you. He breaks it after a good five seconds to catch you off guard, slowly processing his current thoughts like a lawyer in court. “Let me guess, you’re in a long-distance relationship with someone but since they’ve been away for quite some time, you got bored. So that leads to you, drum rolls, hopping on Tinder to find a one night stand.” He closes in proudly, a triumphant smirk painted on his slightly chapped lips. 
For the first time after hours of dreading Minho to come and pick you up as soon as possible, you can finally let go and have a good laugh. It’s like the pressure of being on a date is gladly lifted off your shoulders and you feel like you’re just catching up with an old friend. Which is weird because Changbin— Would it kill to stop thinking about Changbin for once in your life you dumbhead?
“And how did you know that?” You smile at Jaemin, deciding to focus on him for the rest of the night so that he doesn’t think you’re disrespecting him. A date is still a date. Even when the feelings aren’t mutual, the amount of respect should be.
He slowly takes a sip of his water and chews on his steak after. “Not to be creepy but when you went to use the restroom, a notification showed up and I saw your lock screen. He looks like one of those hot SoundCloud rappers who manages to stay anonymous under their stage name even when they’re mad famous. You know, cool people making dope music without being too problematic like ‘real’ celebrities.” Jaemin says it with such admiration you’re nearly more than ready to rant about how talented of a music prodigy your best friend is. But for the sake of him being your best friend, you’re not gonna do that. Yet. 
“We’re not dating, just childhood best friends.” 
He wiggles his eyebrows at you with mischief laced in his brown eyes. “You have a thing for him then. Aha! I knew it! All best friends are obligated to be together, it’s an unwritten norm of the universe.” Wow, just when you thought that no one would know about your feelings for Changbin other than your annoying, chaotic friend group. 
“In my defense, he was the one who set that photo as my lock screen.” You grunt under your breath but don’t even try to hide it. “I shouldn’t have swiped right.”
“Be grateful that you did.” Jaemin inhales the last bits of his dish with satisfaction, dabbing the sauce on his lips away with a napkin. “Because not only am I paying for the meal, I’d love to meet up again to hear you ramble about the boy on your phone. As friends. Also because you totally saved my lactose intolerant ass back there.” He declares loud and clear, smiling from ear to ear. 
You roll your eyes at him in slight annoyance. “Fine, but I’m paying for the movie tickets.”
Jaemin extends his fist. “Frozen 2? I know a place that’s having it tonight.”
“You got it, broski.” You chuckle and bump your fist with his while your heart is yelling at you to get the fuck out of this restaurant because you’re about to suffocate yourself with the amount of painstakingly awkward silence that this place possesses. 
Before you even know it, you’re walking out of the Hilton Hotel with an empty bucket of popcorn in your arms as Jaemin hogs two cups of Coke which are left with nothing but ice cubes right beside you. It’s like the whole being too cautious thing that’s been driving you insane has disintegrated into literal dust. Watching a movie with Jaemin feels like you’re babysitting your non-existent little brother while your parents are out of town and Minho is bar-hopping with the guys. Except for the fact that he gave you his hoodie because the cinema’s ACs are ridiculously cold as always. But it’s really nice, actually, because although the date didn’t turn out how you expected it to be, you did make a new friend. 
That rarely happens so you’re definitely giving yourself a pat on the shoulder. 
“The plot was kinda messy, don’t you think?” You ask him after tossing the bucket into a nearby trash can. 
Jaemin nods in acknowledgment and swings an arm around your shoulder. “It was all over the place, I’m with you all the way. And Elsa in that purple dress too? Yikes.”
You laugh with him, continuing the conversation with much less ‘watch what you’re saying’ and more ‘actually enjoy the date for the sake of it’ until you both reach the parking lot. “Drive safe and text me when you’re home, okay?” You remind him like the bossy person that you are as you pull out your phone from your purse. 
“You’re not my mom.” Jaemin snickers and his fingers hover above the tips of his keys inside his pocket. “Wait, your brother’s picking you up right?”
[9:35 p.m.]
y/n | hey, pick me up already. 
meanhoe | sorry sis, I’m a bit occupied over here. 
meanhoe | just call a ride home or smth.
[9:36 p.m.]
y/n | LEE MINHO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
y/n | do you have the slightest idea about how many serial killers are lurking the streets, waiting for girls like me to fall right into their traps?
meanhoe | paranoid.
[9:37 p.m.]
meanhoe | let me tell you about how Han Jisung is taking a nap on my lap rn.
meanhoe | in graphic details.
[9:38 p.m.]
y/n | or I can just tell you about that time when mom and dad found you right next to a trash can on a sidewalk instead? 
y/n | it’s a very lovely story, trust me.
[9:39 p.m.]
meanhoe | ugh, what do you want?
y/n | nothing, Jaemin will drive me home.
y/n | goodnight.
[ 9:40p.m. ]
meanhoe | hey! I can make it up to you still!
y/n | I SAID GOODNIGHT.
You toss your phone back into your purse in pure disappointment. And with a prolonged sigh, you turn to Jaemin. “He abandoned me. Can you give me a ride home?”
He cackles at the scowl on your face and gestures you towards the seat next to the shotgun window. “Hop in.”
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four.
“Wow,” Minho utters. “Just wow.” 
“It’s you again, why am I still surprised at this point?” 
He grins coyly and slips the keys into his pocket before running a hand through his bed head. Chuckling creepily, he watches as Changbin struggles to roll both of his suitcases across the bumpy surface of your front porch. “You left my sister crying with a bucket of ice-cream for Italy. How does that feel? You know, to finally be free from her ?” Minho inquires with an amused smile. “But on a serious note, she missed you, very much so. Did you even tell her about this?
“Minho, it’s supposed to be a surprise. Do I have to translate ‘surprise’ into whatever the fuck of a language that all snakes speak in general or you’re fully capable of doing that yourself? Also, it would be so incredibly kind and generous of you to actually comprehend my messages.” 
Minho chuckles and leans back against the wall comfortably. “Why not move back here then? Aren’t you done with your degree already? Or did Italy blind you with their good food and hot girls? You’re quite qualified to be my roommate.” He drags the last part. “Just wish you didn’t have to give me that attitude whenever I’m trying to start a civil conversation.” 
Changbin scoffs at him, clearly uninterested. And Minho’s definition of a civil conversation just concerns him even more. “I have enough qualities to be your roommate? Let me guess, smart ?” 
“Secretly a nerd.” Minho tuts. 
Changbin shoots him a dirty look. “Composed?”
“I’d say indifferent and stubborn.” 
“Brave enough to kill some stupid bugs for you?” 
Minho rolls his eyes. “More like painstakingly reckless.”
“You literally fell off the couch when Jeongin accidentally popped a balloon with his pen.” 
A smirk blooms on his lips. “But you gave him an entire lecture about why he shouldn’t bring pens to a party. Inspiring leadership.”
“Looks good in black?”
Minho looks unimpressed. “Everyone looks good in black you moron.”
“Then why the fuck are you trying to pull me into your system?!” Changbin throws his hands upwards, a frustrated groan escapes his lips. “You know I hate commitments. They give me anxiety. Especially when it involves you.” Which is not entirely correct because he did have a date last week or should have had a date last week. He was so close to pissing himself in the middle of a Michelin rated restaurant. But lucky him, his date flaked out on him before he could start having a full-on mental breakdown inside the restroom. 
A glint of curiosity ignites in Minho’s orbs. “Because you absolutely have no life whatsoever.” He starts calmly, going back and forth within the limited space of the hallway. “And don’t even get me started about your love life. It’s drier than Chan’s attempt at making macarons. Oh and remind me, did your goldfish die or did you kill him? Did he die or was he killed? Or was it both?” He taunts further, and further, and further until he’s hanging on that weird borderline between having Changbin lunge at him like a predator and succeeding at luring him back to Seoul. “I’m being as kind as my mind can possibly allow without a drop of caffeine so you better take it while you’re at it.”
Changbin is fuming with nothing but pure anger. He’s so fucking close to crush every single strand of liveliness left inside of the man in front of him until he turns white like a complete ghost. But he’s also convinced that Lee Minho is just a non-biological heir of the Angel of Death. Hence, getting rid of him is impossible. “Come over here and make me.” Crossed arms, he’s determined to not leave the city without at least throwing a punch at Minho’s ridiculously perfect face. 
“What are you? Four?”
Changbin stops himself from throwing hands at him and turns on his heels. “Nothing, it’s just that I don’t really like you all that much.” He makes his way to the kitchen, tossing his black beanie onto the counter. 
“Yeah, me neither.”
He protests triumphantly. “See?”
“Listen up you man child,” Minho grits and walks behind him through the living room, passing by a hungover Jisung with Woojin on top of him at an unusually persistent pace that seems to cover up the bubbling anger inside his stomach. “Would you stop what you’re doing and listen to me when I’m trying to prove my own point? I’ve known you for all my life—“
Changbin interrupts him. “Those times when you passed by me at the library and made fun of me for studying for finals in high school? Doesn’t count.”
Minho hides behind a rather cheerful voice, his stare colder than an ex-wife’s fighting for custody over her child in court. “That doesn’t matter! Y/N went out with some guy last night and even let him drive her home. I don’t even know if she’s okay or not since she wouldn’t pick up for the past hour. And I just can’t let those two idiots at home alone, completely unaware of their surroundings.” Changbin shoots him a weird look and he quickly brushes it off with a click of his tongue. “Don’t ask.” 
Changbin chokes on the can of Coke that he just grabbed from the fridge. “Wait, so she’s not here?”
“She moved in with Yeji months ago in an apartment near college, didn’t she tell you ?”
“No?” He raises a brow. “And what date? Who? How? Where? When?” 
Changbin’s starting to panic a little bit because if you were to be on a date, you’d most likely hide in the restroom just to text him for a good five minutes. Very much like him. Anyway, he’s also quite concerned about the fact that you didn’t reply to Minho’s texts all morning. Maybe he’s overthinking again but he knows that you’ve forced yourself to be a morning person even when it’s the holiday since you don’t wanna dread bringing back your old habits when a new semester hits. 
Minho drums his fingers against the dining table. “Who? Some boy called Jaemin? How? Tinder. Where? The Hilton Hotel. When? Last night until almost 10 I believe.”
Now Changbin’s fully entered panic mode because since when did you even use Tinder? And not tell him about it too? What if you’re already kidnapped and sold to some creepy people from China to make profits off your organs? “That’s it. Give me her address, I’ll go.” He drops his backpack onto the floor and grabs his coat, downing the last few drops of his beverage in a rush. As soon as Minho texts him your address, Changbin dashes straight through the front door like a tornado to the point that it has Woojin facepalming himself on Minho’s dad’s old carpet. 
“My job here is done.” Minho cracks his knuckle and takes a seat at his family’s dining table, picking up his phone only to receive a text from you. 
[8:23 a.m.]
y/n | ugh, is your friend gonna come over to pick up the speaker or what? it’s been fifteen minutes.
y/n | and what’s his name again? Jackson?
meanhoe | yeah, he’ll be there in ten.
meanhoe | eat a chill pill sis, I’m in charge.
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five.
You frown furiously at the series of messages that you and your brother have been sending each other for the past ten minutes. Something smells fishy, and you can already see that stupid, self-indulging smirk spread across his face without him being right next to you. But then again, no one really knows what’s going on inside that disturbing glimpse of thing called ‘a brain’ inside his head because magically, and spontaneously, everything works out whenever he’s in charge. 
Except when he’s in the kitchen with Jisung and Hyunjin as his cannot-be-anymore-useless vice-cooks, aka when they’re holding onto each other for dear life the moment Minho cracks an egg onto a heated pan with oil boiling along the edges. 
“Ugh, Yeji! It’s supposed to be your turn to do laundry, you ass.” You repeatedly hit your roommate’s sleeping figure with a pillow, slightly mad at the fact that she’s still in bed when you’re done with grocery shopping. Sometimes you wonder if her only talent is sleeping through earthquakes. Maybe that’s how she has mad stamina and can still do a decent thirty minutes of cardio after dance practice. 
Yeji mumbles nonsense into her pillow and slaps your hand away only to bury herself under the wool blanket again. It takes every strand of energy left inside of you to pull the soft fabric over her head and onto the floor it goes. “Why are you making such a fuss out of me forgetting to do laundry ?” She sits up grudgingly like a zombie digging itself up from its own grave and yawns obnoxiously. 
You blink numerous times at her in disbelief. “Uhm, hello? Because I don’t have anything to wear? And also, FYI, it’s almost ten, okay? Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Prince Charming isn’t available today.” 
“Shut the fuck up!” She whines loudly before dropping onto her backside in defeat. “You’ve never binge-watched any dramas before, you’d never get it.” Hey, it’s not your fault she chose to stay up until 3 a.m. for a stupid drama. You’re not gonna tolerate her complaints about migraines after having lunch, not this time. 
“Besides,” She glances at you before throwing an arm over her head dramatically. “You look good in that hoodie, where did you get it?” 
You grab various pieces of clothing dangling off of her bed and her beige-colored computer chair as you ponder about your life choices. “Na Jaemin, who else? God, and I need to give it back to him too.” 
Yeji teases. “Are you making an excuse to meet him again?”
“We didn’t click, that’s all I have to say.” A smirk finds its way to your lips. “I basically adopted him now, so yes, I am making an excuse to meet him again because a mother has every right to see their son.” 
“You’re so weird.” Your roommate purses her lips before turning her back against you. 
You scroll through your feed in pure boredom. “What do you want for lunch? Wait, it’s too early for lunch, what about brunch?”
“Anything will do.” Yeji shrugs, not even trying to get out of bed when it’s already 9 a.m. So naturally, you’re already facepalming yourself at her questionable sleeping habits. 
Now, where is that guy Jackson?
As if on cue, your doorbell rings. You’re dead meat to me. You roll up your sleeves and put on your ‘formally serious’ face before grabbing the tote bag right beside your couch. Without even checking who’s there through the peephole, you swing the door open in a rush. “Look, Jackson, I’m really not in the mood to invite you inside for tea nor biscuits so just take the speaker and—“
“Y/N, I don’t need a speaker, stop bombarding me with information that my brain can’t even comprehend. And who the hell is Jackson?” Changbin puts his hands up as if you’re holding him at gunpoint. And you almost laugh out loud at how he looks like he just found out Trump is president, he— wait, Changbin’s here?
You subconsciously drop the speaker without noticing that you might break something before Jackson actually gets here. “You came back?!” Your mouth automatically goes agape, utterly speechless. 
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He chuckles when you crash yourself into his embrace as an attempt to hide your teary eyes. Meeting Changbin in person again feels like a rollercoaster full of mixed emotions, you have so many things to say but nothing comes out right. Maybe it’s best if you just keep your mouth shut for the time being. 
And thank God he still smells the same and doesn’t shower himself in ridiculously expensive cologne like other guys because you’d disown him if he starts smelling like a Tommy Hilfiger store. Changbin gently wraps his arms around your waist, rocking you from side to side. “You missed me that much huh?” Suddenly tongue-tied, he’s officially lost the ability to form a proper sentence when you hold onto him so tightly, so desperately. 
When you pull away, you don’t even know what to say when so many things are running through your mind at the speed of light. After all those years, he’s changed. Yes, people change. But Changbin changed, for the better. He looks impeccable even in a simple black t-shirt with a grey bomber jacket thrown over his figure. Wait, has he been hitting the gym? You swear, last time you saw him he was five times smaller. His jawline can now cut you too apparently. Years of friendship and you just found out your best friend is an actual health freak. 
“As if..” You sniffle into the crook of his neck, tears continuously streaming down on your cheeks. Eventually, you give in. “Fine, I did miss you.” 
Changbin laughs wholeheartedly, sending vibration throughout your entire body. “Missed you too, Beastie.”  And it’s there again, that fuzzy feeling tickling the pit of your stomach. It feels wrong, and your heart knows that too well. To the point that you’re afraid of your own feelings for him, that you’d hurt him, or he’d hurt you. You just can’t decide if confessing to him is worth the risk of destroying your friendship forever. But it’s most definitely not. Maybe it’s better this way. 
“Wait,” Changbin scrunches his nose and pulls away. “You smell like a guy.” Then something rings a bell inside of him. “Right, you went on a date with some cute boy without telling me? Explain yourself.” 
You scratch the nape of your neck sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. “Well… long story short, I got bored and downloaded Tinder. He was cute, but not compatible.” 
“There you are, what took you so long?” Yeji pops her head out of her bedroom, almost giving you a heart attack. 
You toss her a look. “What do you mean ‘what took you so long? Did you know? Again ?” And she nods apologetically. “Why the fuck do I feel so left out right now? Are you guys setting me up for something sketchy? Who’s in charge?” 
“Your brother, obviously.” 
You step aside so that Changbin can walk into your living room before shutting the front door closed. “Zip it, he’s adopted.” 
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six.
Kim Woojin, as always, throws his annual ‘welcome back’ BBQ party whenever someone returns from a long trip for a fairly long time. Of course, he would never leave Changbin hanging. 
Which, also means you’re obligated to accept the fact that he just single-handedly dragged you out of your apartment with the most minimal of physical effort. So now you’re stuck inside his stupid kitchen, with your siblings (no not Minho, not that heathen), potatoes. You look so incredibly alike your brother might actually be whatever with the harsh truth that you can’t stop taunting him about how he’s adopted. 
Anyway, because you’ve always been terrified about the thought of accidentally having your sleeves caught on fire, Chan just shooed you back inside to work on the potato salad. And the worst part of making a potato salad? Peeling the skin. Seriously, you’d marry someone who invented an automatic potato peeler, that’d be godsend privilege. 
The saying goes : ‘When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade’. Likewise, but in your case, it’s : ‘When life makes you cook, get yourself a best friend who’s good at it instead’. Problem solved. Changbin might not be as great as *snorts* Minho, but he did manage to survive multiple months in Italy without spending too much money eating out when he’s very, absolutely, entirely financially capable of doing that for the rest of his life. He appreciates home-cooked food because of the process, the time, the effort, the love that every family member (or one family member) put into the dishes. And it may not be something that’s Gordon Ramsay-approved, but gathering around at the same table gives people the chance to catch up, to communicate, to care more. 
And what does that mean? Well, that means when Changbin, fortunately, makes it out of the war zone in Woojin’s backyard where Hyunjin is chasing Jisung with a dead spider between his metal tong, he finds out that he just, in fact, got himself into another disaster. Bits of potatoes’ skin is everywhere, scattered randomly from the kitchen aisle to the wooden cutting board. Bottles of mayonnaise and mustard are lying lifelessly across the dining table, saucing dripping from the opened caps. And jars of different spices look like they just got dumped into one big bucket, mixed together, and then carefully divided them evenly into each one again. Changbin is utterly alarmed right now and he can’t decide whether he should be helping you or just run away. But since it’s you, he can’t simply turn on his heels and leave because chances are, you’re gonna fucking stab him in his sleep. 
“Woah, who did you kill ?” He gasps, taking slow strides toward your figure standing at the kitchen aisle. 
You blow a few strands of loose hair out of your face, crying dramatically. “My sanity, it’s long gone.” You tell him as you try to stir the mixture of mayonnaise, paprika, apple cider vinegar, celery seeds, mustard, and sweet pickle relish in a stainless steel bowl with a wooden spoon, trying hard not to ruin Jaemin’s favorite hoodie. “And if you’re not planning on giving me a hand, then the exit is right that way. No one’s stopping you.” 
Changbin shakes his head at you in disapproval for a hot minute before pulling your hair free from the loose bun, accidentally dousing himself in the more than familiar scent of your shampoo. Fresh, and a bit pepperminty, he missed this so much it’s starting to get creepy. Basically his heart just swells, but he’s gonna choose to be in denial like usual. “Better get your hair out of your face first.” He says and effortlessly puts your messy, black mop of hair into a high ponytail. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before because Changbin tends to play with your hair a lot while you’re both on a Netflix marathon. But this time, you didn’t know what it was, but the moment the tips of his fingers brushed past your bare skin, they sent electricity down your spine and goosebumps rose on your skin. The fact that your little heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill for hours doesn’t make it easier to deny how much he can affect you without even trying.
“Why are you still wearing that hoodie ?” Changbin points out, confused. 
You answer monotonously, still mad at your roommate. “Because Yeji forgot to do laundry. So I have nothing to wear.” You hate her even more now because she’s probably gonna be out and about, going to questionable parties with Ryujin until dawn and asking for a cup of water when she gets back home on your bean bag chair. “I’m gonna have to return it to Jaemin soon.” 
Changin snickers. “Yeah, you better.” He finishes chopping up the hard-boiled eggs, celery, sweet onions, and fresh dill, dropping the ingredients into the dressing that you just made. 
“So,” You walk over to the dining table to grab the bowl of chopped potato. “How did your date go? Was she cute or did she look like a potential serial killer? Wait, serial killers can look cute.” You shiver at the thought of losing your best friend in some foreign country because someone can literally be kidnapped in a span of fifteen to twenty seconds. So you don’t see the point of being ashamed about always being paranoid. 
Changbin helps you pour the dressing over the potato before stirring the goodness together with a wooden spoon. “Ah, that,” He scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “She’s okay I guess. But you never know, talking over text is always easier.” 
You decide to let Changbin finish up the dish and grab some paper towels to wipe down the table and counter. “So you guys never met up ?”
He looks hesitant to tell you. “Technically, we were gonna see each other every day because of the internship but I guess no? Our schedules aren’t exactly compatible. Maybe I’ll just ask her out again when I fly back.” 
You stop cleaning up the mess on the kitchen aisle and turn your attention onto your best friend. He’s nibbling on his bottom lips, guilt is evident in his eyes. 
“What internship?” You ask. 
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seven.
Seo Changbin used to have ( and still has ) a soft spot for you. And everyone knows that all too well. 
He wasn’t kidding when he said that you’re his favorite girl. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he’d take a bullet for you. But you kinda wish that he was because falling in love with your childhood best friend just sounds so wrong on so many levels altogether. Jaemin night be right, it is written in the stars for some people to fall in love with their best friend but that life is not for you. There’s just something about the idea of Changbin and you as lovers that twists an immediate knot in your stomach. Sometimes you wish he doesn’t have to be so affectionate towards you so that you can give up on the one thing that’s holding you back : false hope. 
He would always drag you out of bed in the middle of the night to watch the stars and talk with him even when you guys were practically inseparable. Your group of friends constantly tells you that Changbin could never keep his hands to himself when it comes to you but realistically, he’s just a secretly clingy person who loves cuddling. But those little moments where you guys were sharing the same bed, snuggling into each other’s presence like it’s the last sense of comfort in the entire world were the ones you cherish the most. They can make you smile stupidly to yourself all day. 
And Changbin never failed to surprise you too. He once made the whole fancy breakfast in bed with flowers that only happens in movies and you couldn’t stop talking about it. Even ‘till this day, you still can’t shut up about it. He only brushed it off and told you that he wanted to spoil you since it’s your birthday but you took it as something much more than just a birthday present. Because those little actions of his are what set your heart on fire and you feel like it could combust anytime if he keeps looking at you so tenderly all the time.
Changbin isn’t a man of many words because he truly believes that actions speak louder than words. At least for him, his actions are much more powerful than his words. But that doesn’t mean his words never had any kind of effect on you. Because they did, greatly. You still remember how you’d always wake him up in the middle of the night because your stupid brain cells decided to give you a mental breakdown after bottling feelings up for so long. But Changbin didn’t just scold you for keeping everything to yourself, he did something else much more magical and much more comforting than any advice you could ever have. 
He’s written plenty of songs for you before, and you can still vividly hear the familiar melodies every now and then whenever you’re in a really dark place. 
It felt like a tight hug when you were all alone and in distress. But what sucks is that it makes you miss him even more. Where in the world is he? What is he doing? Does he have a decent life? Moreover, is he happy? You were always worried sick about Changbin because he’s that type of guy who works his ass off for things that he’s passionate about but he’d be willing to do something else for others because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Hence, upon hearing about him turning down an internship just to fly back, you didn’t know what to say or think. 
You yell at Changbin. “Are you out of your mind?!” 
He huffs in disbelief. “I’m a fully grown man who has every right to make my own decisions so I chose to visit my friends instead of torturing myself inside a studio. Yeah, sue me!”
“Do you have any idea how many opportunities and chances that internship would bring? There’s no need for you to do that just because of us!”
Changbin points out snarkily. “Well, you were the one who decided to call me at 3 a.m. every single day, complaining about your insomnia and shit.”
You gasp scandalously. “Why are you even saying that? It’s like you don’t even know me! I’m trying to put your benefits before mine, why is it so hard to understand that? Are you trying to say that I’m the bad guy in this conversation?”
“Maybe you are,” He says through gritted teeth. “Likewise, I’m trying to put my friends first instead of locking myself up within four soundproof walls twenty-four hours a day, five days a week, until spring break is over. You are being fucking ridiculous!” 
You’re slightly taken aback when Changbin had the audacity to say such things. Why is he still so fucking stubborn? “I’m the one who’s being ridiculous? Me trying to not get my best friend's talent wasted, me trying to not have my best friend make the rest of his break go wack because all we do here is apparently get drunk, eat, sleep, and repeat. That, is being ridiculous ?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Well, if I need to keep on doing that in order to keep you on track with your dream, then I fucking will.”
He hisses at you. “What are you? My mom? I’m a fully grown adult for fuck’s sake!” 
“Yes, I am technically your mom since the day you threw up on my dress in kindergarten. I even wiped your puke off of your face, you ungrateful brat.” 
“Uhm guys, you might wanna tone it down..” Felix tries to cool off the situation since he doesn’t really enjoy eating dinner while two people are continuously throwing daggers at each other with their eyes. 
Another thing, no matter how whipped you are for Seo Changbin, there’s still this little demonic part in your heart that screams to strangle the light out of his eyes every single day. Even back then, you guys bickered like there’s no tomorrow without a care in the world. Fortunately, your problems were always quick to be resolved because you just could never bring yourself to hate him even when you wanted to. He’s just that contagious, never fails to put a smile on your face nonetheless. 
So naturally, it’s ten minutes into the BBQ party in Woojin’s backyard and you’re more than ready to fight him. Metaphorically, not literally because you’re too utterly soft for him anyway. 
“Shh, shh,” Minho easily shushes Felix up with his index finger over his lips. “Lix, keep it down, the Petty Olympics is just getting started.” 
Jeongin purses his lips. “You’re such a snake, did you know that?” He’s obnoxiously chewing on the slices of grilled steak that Chan just took off the iron rack. Like Felix, he wishes to enjoy dinner in peace but that has not happened for quite some time and he’s already sick of it. 
Minho rolls his eyes at the younger boy with nothing but disgust in his eyes. “Wow, what a truly shocking revelation, Jeongin. It’s for the irony, sarcasm is needed in order for my joke to work.” He sips on the glass of whiskey in front of him like how he simply sips on his coworkers’ complaints about their relationships every morning. “Now run along, grab your monthly paycheck and buy yourself a sense of humor.” 
Jisung snickers. “Wow, is he mean today—“ 
You cut Jisung off unintentionally, huffing with such determination. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”
Changbin says casually. “It’s not like I want to.”
“I will break you.” You give him your best death glare.
He tips his imaginary hat with a smirk tugged on his lips. “If that’s what makes you happy, then I certainly cannot wait for it, Little Mistress.”
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eight.
It’s the second time you’re hanging out with Jaemin and still, you can’t bring yourself to develop any non-platonic feelings for him. Do you really want to date him? Not really. Again, he’s not a bad guy. In fact, girls can just pass by you both walking by the Han River and they’re already eyeing him up and down like an expensive piece of steak. 
Maybe it’s something about trying to push Changbin out of your mind for once in your life. Or it can be something about the fact that he actually has some kind of romantic interest in his Tinder date. Or you’re just being ridiculous and totally overthinking the situation. 
It’s sad, but you’ll have to accept it sooner or later. You see Jaemin as nothing but a friend, and a little brother because he’s funny, respectful, and everything you can ask for in a guy. But, at the end of the day, he’s just not Changbin. 
And although you’re madly in love with your best friend, it seems like Jaemin gets you and manages to keep your mind off of him for the day so that you don’t end up crying alone in one of the bathroom stalls. You can’t be any more thankful. 
“You seriously didn’t have to watch ‘Dolittle’ twice just because of me,” Jaemin tells you as you both stand at the front door of the movies, hugging his bucket of popcorn closer to his stomach. 
You smile at him. “Robert Downey Jr. is worth watching any movie twice. That’s why I’m still not over the Endgame depression phase because I may or may not watch it one too many times.” 
He rolls his eyes at you and proceeds to throw his garbage away. “Crybaby.” Then, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and walks you towards the entrance. “I had fun tonight. Thanks, Y/N, it means a lot. Should I walk you home?”
“I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” You answer cheekily. 
Jaemin teases, “Because your boyfriend might show up and punch me in the face?” 
“Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!”
“Woah, I didn’t even say who it was. You’re so whipped for him.”
You elbow him in the stomach, earning a low grunt from him as a response. “I shouldn’t have given you your hoodie back. I should have burnt it or something.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at you, holding onto the paper bag that you brought tightly. “No, keep it if you want to. You look good in it.” 
Before you can even clap-back at him with a witty retort, your phone vibrates inside your pocket. “Sorry, someone texted me.”
[ 9:23p.m. ]
meanhoe | Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!
meanhoe | SOMEONE BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE!
meanhoe | I’m upstairs rn, but there were some sketchy sounds earlier. I think they’re in our kitchen.
meanhoe | Bin’s still in the living room!
meanhoe | COME HOME!!
Oh. My. God. 
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nine.
“Changbin, pick up, pick up,” You murmur and keep pacing back and forth at your parents’ front porch, frantically fumbling with your phone in your hands. “Goddamnit just pick up!” You groan out of frustration when you can’t even open the door because it’s locked, and Changbin’s not doing a great job at responding to your calls either. Which can only mean one thing, he’s being held hostage inside along with your brother and the intruder’s probably confiscated their phones. 
You’d take a bullet for Changbin if that’s the last thing you could do for him. There are no words to fathom how important he is to you, so now instead of thinking of how to save his ass, you’re stupidly, foolishly thinking back to high school where he would always eat lunch with you whenever Minho’s too caught up with practice, where you both would lie under an ugly tree at the very back of your school’s enormous backyard, trying to do homework and dozing off five minutes after. Changbin’s been with you through thicks and thins, with all of your ups and downs. His lack of doubt for you was what helped you survive those horrendous years and you’ve decided that you’re not gonna let go of him, not in this life. 
Therefore, you’re about to do something dumb. That something is going to prevent your best friend from getting murdered. But the chances of getting your head blown into bits are undeniably high too. That wouldn’t matter now, would it? If the intruder dares to tick you off, he best believes that you’re gonna fucking take him down with you. 
Mustering all of the courage you have left, slowly, your fingers hover over the doorknob, the other on the wooden surface, ready to bang on it like a crazy person. You inhale sharply and close your eyes. 3..2..1..
The door suddenly swings open, causing you to stagger forward and your eyes widen in panic. “Y/N? What the hell?” Changbin catches you in time and frowns furiously at your soaked figure. Your hair and clothes are doused with rain, the tips of your fingers as cold as ice from staying outside for so long. You flutter your eyes open at his words, mouth grows agape when you find out that your current position can’t be any more awkward. 
Great, now what?
Wait, where’s the intruder? “Are you okay?!” You mindlessly throw yourself at him, holding onto him so tightly like he’s gonna disintegrate into thin air once you let him go. Blood is roaring inside your ears, your heart is picking up its pace as you have so many questions, so many things to say but.. he seems pretty okay? “Is Minho okay too? Where is he? Why didn’t you pick up my calls? Why was the door locked?” 
Changbin pulls away softly to prevent you from hearing his heart thumping vigorously inside of his rib cage, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “What? Minho’s downtown today to meet up with his old friend who’s studying abroad. Didn’t he tell you?” 
“No?” You knit your brows together and take a full ten seconds to process what just happened. Why do you feel like you just got played? 
He closes the door and walks you inside. “And why the hell do you look like a wet rat? Did you just walk home? Weren’t that Jaemin guy supposed to drive you instead?” You purposely ignore his questions and continue to piece the little amount of information that you have together. But once you throw a glance at your parents’ living room, you see a box of fresh, piping hot Hawaiian pizza with ‘Fast and Furious’ playing on the forty-eight inches TV. With that, everything makes sense. 
You ran home as fast as you possibly could, under the rain when it’s dark outside all alone and this is how your brother repays you? 
“Wow,” You utter, somewhat lightheaded. “I need to sit down.” You tell Changbin when he comes back with a white fluffy, towel. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, wordlessly bringing the towel to your head as an attempt to dry off your hair. You’re startled by his sudden affection, cheeks growing pink as you avoid eye contact. 
Changbin caresses your cheekbone gently as if you’re far too fragile for him to touch and you just play dumb by batting your eyelashes repeatedly to shake the droplets of rain away. He quickly snaps out of it, taken aback by his own action. “Would you care to tell me what happened before I put you on trial?” He says with his arms crossed.
Your blood slowly boils as you choke on your own exasperation.“Minho told me that someone broke into our house and basically held you hostage. So I rain-checked on Jaemin, ran home only to find you in one piece with a pizza while watching ‘Fast & Furious’.” You hide your face behind your palms in sheer embarrassment as Changbin cackles his ass off in his annoyingly adorable laughter that makes you crack up every time. 
He throws his head back and continues to laugh wholeheartedly, holding onto his stomach for dear life. “He got you good, wow. So much for supporting his sister’s second date. I’m sure he just wants to make sure that you’re home before twelve.” 
“HE COULD HAVE JUST PICKED ME UP HIMSELF! HELLO?” You throw your hands in the air, huffing. You swear to God, Minho’s dead meat to you tomorrow morning. Your brother knows your feelings for Changbin all too well and he’s just doing everything he can to kick Jaemin out of your love life but the irony here is Jaemin was never there in the first place. But, Minho’s an evil mad genius so he still succeeded in pushing you back to Changbin when you’re trying to avoid him the most. Props to him, you’re now stuck inside a house with your best friend because your parents are currently going on vacation in Bora Bora. 
That wouldn’t be a problem unless you’re madly in love with him. But you are, and it sucks. 
You exclaim, smacking Changbin’s arm, causing him to whine loudly. “Would you stop laughing? I was scared that you’re gonna get murdered!” 
In a split second, he pulls you flushed against him, rocking you back and forth as he ruffles your hair. When the vibration of his chuckle emits from his chest just makes your heart skip a beat. Changbin’s never been the cheesy, romantic type like Hyunjin but sometimes he does these things that just messes up your heart more as if it’s not already all over the place. 
“Come on, Beastie, go change your clothes. I wouldn’t wanna cuddle with a sick person.” 
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ten.
One shower and five minutes later, you’re on the sofa right beside Changbin with your head rested comfortably on his shoulder. The first episode of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ is blaring clamorously on your dad’s TV as your eyelids grow heavy, hanging on the edge of shutting before your favorite character even pops up. 
Changbin notices your sleepiness and pulls the wool blanket closer to your body, high enough to cover the rest of your shoulders as you snuggle into the crook of his neck. He pouts at the box of pizza and two empty bottles of Henny before playing with your hair, braiding a small section of it in boredom. He’s definitely not the type to rewatch any shows but since you’re just so pumped for the second season, you insisted that you two should binge-watch season one all over again. Obviously, he doesn’t see the point because he already knows everything, how does rewatching it has anything to do with getting him ready for the next season? Besides, you’re already falling asleep when it’s only ten minutes into the episode. 
But is Changbin gonna let you sleep in peace just like that after all those years of you waking him up at an ungodly hour? Nope. 
“Hey,” He nudges you with his elbow. “They said there wouldn’t be a second season.” 
You jolt up from your sleepy state, eyes shooting open in utter surprise and disappointment. “Wait what?! Why not?!” You cry out dramatically, hands batting in midair like a madwoman as if they’re looking for something to hold onto. Soon enough, you plop yourself back onto the couch in defeat, letting the alcohol take over your entire body. You can already feel it kicking in as your limbs grow lighter and so does your mind. Gosh, you just wish you weren’t so lightweight. 
Changbin chuckles at you, caressing your hair softly. He pulls you closer to him by your shoulder and takes in your scent like it’s the last sense of comfort on Earth. “You’re so cute when you’re drunk, did you know that?” He studies your features closely, quickly realizing how much he must matter to you for you to show this vulnerable side to him so casually. Giddiness is an understatement for the way that his heart just beats ten times faster, the way his arms hold you close so gently but so tightly at the same time. In this cracked darkness with the insufficient source of light from the TV screen, you’re so beautiful it takes the breath right out of his lungs. You seem too serene to be true, eyes closed, lips slightly agape it makes him wonder how it feels to seal his with yours. 
As if on cue, your favorite character appears on time and you swat the sleepiness away, pointing at the screen with half-open eyes. “Five! He’s so cute, can I adopt him, please?” You giggle and show him those infamous puppy eyes. Changbin can never resist it’s actually frustrating. 
“Yes, you can adopt a serial killer who knows how to travel through time, absolutely.” Changbin facepalms himself. “Honestly, what do you even see in him?” 
“He’s smart and funny, and a total badass. I like how he never sugarcoats things and stays true to himself. But, he also puts others before himself without expecting them to do the same thing back. His actions speak louder than his words because there are countless times where he saved his siblings although he talks to them as if he sees them as nothing more than a bunch of assholes. I admire him in so many ways although he’s just a fictional character. And you know why?” You cock your head sideways, leaning closer. “Because he kinda reminds me of you.” 
Changbin tenses up at the last part. “W-What?” 
The ‘sober Y/N’ would never be brave enough to tell him what you’re planning on saying next. “I love you, Bin. I know that I might not act like I give a fuck, but I genuinely care about you. You mean the world to me.” You blurt mindlessly, hiccuping into his ears. “I really do love you. I just never got the courage to say it.” You hum and toppling over his figure on top of the couch, your legs straddling his. 
“We can’t.” Changbin places his index finger on your lips to stop you from decreasing the distance. “You’re not thinking straight right now.” 
You pull back, frowning. “Why? Because I’m not sober? What do my feelings for you have anything to do with alcohol?” You’re not mad, but rather curious. Either way, you can’t seem to get mad at Changbin for more than ten seconds. 
“I- I don’t wanna hurt you.” He stutters and stops as he sees the heartbroken look in your eyes. It hurts even more because deep down, the sober part in you knows that you’d never fathom enough courage to actually tell him how you feel. And you also know that you’ve just potentially fucked up more than ten years worth of friendship. Changbin’s warm brown eyes stare at you with nothing but pure sincerity. “It’s like I’m taking advantage of you in this kind of state. It’s not right. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” He brushes your hair out of your face and sighs. 
“Bin, you respect me like no one else does. You know it. I know it. We know it. You’re my best friend.” 
“That’s the problem.” He pulls you closer while rubbing little circles on your back. “Promise me that we’ll never change, yeah?” 
You wrap your hands around his neck, a tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye. “Yeah..promise.” 
“Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassures you as a confirmation, standing up from the couch that he’s been occupying for too long. You keep your gaze low, unable to meet his eyes as you’re ashamed of your own action. You shouldn’t have done that. What were you thinking for fuck’s sake?
Changbin turns off the TV before guiding you towards the stairs in the dark, holding onto your waist tightly enough so that you won’t slip. “Don’t blame yourself on this, okay?”
You voice quietly, almost a whisper. “Okay.” 
“Come on, let’s go to bed.”
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eleven.
That night, you held onto Changbin like he’s the last thing you’re ever gonna see although you knew too well that it’s meaningless. What’s the point anyways? He just slapped your confession away and that alone was enough for you to understand that he sees you as nothing more than a friend. However, it’s still better than being stuck in that weird gray area that just keeps messing with your mind. You wouldn’t want to get in his way either. So when Changbin tried to peel your hands away from his torso gently in the middle of the night, your eyes remained closed as you rolled on the other side of the bed. 
When you woke up in the morning, he was already gone. 
It’s like he’s never been there all of those years as if he’s just an illusion that your delusional self made up to comfort yourself when things get hard. All of his belongings were nowhere to be found, his bed in the guest room was neatly made, something that he’s never done before. Changbin left no traces, no notes, no messages, no nothing like it’s a natural implement for ‘Don’t bother looking for me, I’m not gonna come back’. But to you, it feels more like ‘You fucked up our friendship, Y/N. I will never speak to you again’. 
Losing a best friend of a lifetime is way worse than going through a breakup. But it hurts more when you’ve unintentionally developed feelings for him when you know too well that it’s not right. It’s not right. And you seriously screwed up. You just hurt the one and only person that’s so incredibly close and special to your heart. Therefore, you’re distraught, unable to do anything right for some of the following days. Utterly destroyed, you can’t seem to stop blaming yourself for what happened. 
Changbin’s done so much for you and you can’t be any more grateful to have him in your life. There was this time where you totally lashed out on him because you were just having a ‘bad day’. He didn’t even get mad at you, he never gets mad at you. Instead, Changbin let you lock yourself up in your room for an hour until he came back with a box of chocolate and flowers. Everything fell right back into its place again and you really don’t know what you did to deserve him. He always goes out of his way, prioritizing others’ benefits rather than his own. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone at all because, in your heart, you know that he can be hurt easily too. 
So it’s no shocker that you’re madly in love with him. You like how he smiles and looks at you like you’re the only person that’s existing in this celestial sphere. You like the sound of his laughter because it reminds you of Spongebob sometimes, it’s ridiculously adorable in the best way possible. You also like how he clings onto you and lets you be the big spoon whenever he’s having a long day, you can’t stop smiling knowing that he finds comfort in your presence. 
The only flaw about him is that he’s all about that healthy life, which is good for him but you’re not adapting that any time soon. And he doesn’t talk about himself enough as he’s always used to listening to others’ problems instead. He’s flawsome, but you’re willing to embrace it all. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds, you love all of him. 
Just because he’s Seo Changbin. 
You stay up for many days, thinking an awful amount and flashbacking to when you’re on top of him, staring at him so tenderly as those idiotic words slipped out of your lips. All of because of one single beer. You just wish you could take it all back. If so, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the person you care about the most. 
“No, she won’t eat no matter what I say.” You can hear Yeji’s voice echoes from the living room as you throw an arm over your eyes. “I don’t think you should see her right now, not when she’s on the verge of breaking down every two seconds.” You don’t even have to look to know that your brother’s outside, probably worried sick about you. Minho might not be the type of person to show affections on a regular basis, but he genuinely cares about the people around him. He just doesn’t know how to express that he cares. 
The front door closes with a small ‘click’, making you jolt up from your bed. Your roommate pushes the door to your bedroom open and runs a hand through her hair. She practically grimaces at the current state of your room : curtains closed, clothes scattered all over the place with you still in your PJs. It’s funny because normally, you’re the one who complains whenever she’s being messy, now Yeji has the perfect reason to pay back. “Jesus Christ,” She frowns when her hands open the beige-colored curtains. “Get yourself together, will you?”
“Leave-me-alone.” You hiss at her like a snake when the light comes flooding in, blinding your eyes in the process. “What do you want? Am I not depressed enough to be at peace?”
She shakes her head and sits down next to your reclined form on the bed, a hand finds its way to your back. “No, you’re just in denial.” Yeji pulls your figure closer, embracing you with as much sincerity that she can muster. She might as well have you scream at her for forgetting to do laundry and waking up late rather than seeing you barely alive like this. If this goes on for too long, you might end up in the ER. And she can care less about whatever you’re planning on doing next because clearly, you’re not emotionally stable enough to make your own decisions right now. 
You look down. “About what?”
“About the fact that Seo Changbin likes you too.” She says softly. “Only a dumbass can’t see that he’s completely head over heels for you.”
You chuckle dryly. “He’s not, he probably hates me.”
“He never hated you, he never hates you, and he will never hate you.” Yeji sighs as you snuggle closer to her chest. “Why would you think that Changbin hates you?” 
Your eyes widen in terror as the night before when he left replays in your head over and over again. The more you think about it, the more you wanna kick yourself for not controlling our own feelings. Three words and your best friend’s gone. He was right, you guys could never, you weren’t thinking straight. Even down to that moment, Changbin put you before him and treated you with nothing but respect. “Because I ruined our friendship. Things are never gonna be the same again. I shouldn’t have fallen for him, I’m so stupid.” You let out an audible groan and bury your face into your palms. 
Yeji peels your hands away and forces you to look at her. “I don’t see why falling for Seo Changbin is considered stupid. You see things in him that no one else does, and you even had the courage to confess how you truly feel, even when it’s because of a bottle of Henny. Not everyone can accept that because people are cowards when it comes to commitment and their own feelings.” She keeps looking you dead in the eye as if she’s testing you. “Look, even if Changbin doesn’t feel the same way. He can never hate you.”
“And why should I believe you?” 
Your roommate laughs in disbelief, shaking your shoulder forcefully. “Are you blind? Do you even hear yourself right now? Haven’t you seen the way that he looks at you, eyes sparkling like puppies and all? If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is. Even if it’s not the love that you wanted him to return, he still loves you as a friend. He just ran away because, well, he’s human too. He might need some time to himself and make up his mind.” 
You stare into the distance this time, eyes empty. “True love doesn’t count if it’s not returned, don’t you agree?” 
Yeji rolls her eyes at you, she looks like she’s about to personally drag your ass across the planet, straight to Italy just to make up with Changbin. “Oh-my-god, you’re impossible! Of course, it counts! So what, you’re telling me that your feelings for him after all these years would mean nothing if he doesn’t say those three words back? I know that you’re sad and angry about what happened, but I think it’s much better than bottling everything up all to yourself. You were brave for doing that, Y/N.”
Your lips stay sealed as you decide to listen to her lecture obediently like a child. “Do you think Changbin would want to see you like this? No, no one wants to see you all depressed and miserable. Do you have any idea how worried Minho is? Have you checked the notifications on your phone? It’s not like you can’t move on with life without Changbin, you can and you will if that’s what you have to do.” 
“So..?” 
“Are you gonna step up and get your life back again or what?”
You groan internally, because gosh, you hate it whenever she’s right. 
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twelve.
From then on, Changbin’s like a phantom in your life, not because he’s constantly popping out of nowhere to scare the living daylight out of you, but because he’s constantly on your mind. Everything feels a little bit emptier without him. You don’t have to worry about having cilantro in your daily meals because he’s not there to complain about it. And there’s no longer a random cup of chai tea in the fridge on Sunday mornings because he can’t buy you one anymore. 
But at the same time, everything reminds you of him. Like how his pairs of designer shoes aren’t laying around at your front door, how his favorite hoodies aren’t being forgotten at your place intentionally, and how the Stitch stuffed animal he gave you last year still reeks off his significant scent. Everything gives you a hard time to finally let him go, but ultimately, you know that you’ll pull through. And you did. 
You move on with a college degree waiting for you at the end of this dark, bumpy road. Changbin, on the other hand, you can’t say much because his SoundCloud account is currently empty. He deleted every single song, every mixtape, every demo possible as if he’s trying to wipe his existence out of your life completely. Which makes it more difficult for you to muster up some courage and reach out to him again. 
It’s almost a year, and you wish he could have just given you a sign about whether he’s fine with being friends or not. But as always, leaving notes is definitely not his department. The thing is, you feel like you both didn’t just grow apart. You also grew up. 
“Y/N, did you ask me to go to the movies just because you didn’t feel like studying for finals?” Jaemin nudges you with his elbow and you smack his arms in return. Okay, technically you did grow up but old habits die hard, and you’re still procrastinating. Nothing new, but the occasional non-dates with Jaemin somehow helped with the aching part in your heart. You can’t say that he’s your new best friend because gosh, no one could ever replace Changbin. But ever since you found out that you guys go to the same college, you kept running into him on campus. Hence, hanging out with him is practically unavoidable. 
You laugh, letting him swing an arm around your shoulders. “Nope, it’s because I love hanging out with you.”
“Does that naturally imply as you love me?” He grins coyly before approaching your car at the very end of the parking lot. You’ve talked about this before. ‘Love’ is an overstatement for the love that you have for Jaemin. Of course, you love him, just not in a romantic way and he accepts that. Although he does sometimes pull you in as a stunt just to get a discount for buying a couples’ combo. You let him, only because you’re both broke college students who are dreading your own student’s loans. 
“Sure, I just love you so much I can’t even bring myself to say it without doing this.” You slowly feed his ego and your right hand quickly grabs the right side of his ears, dragging him into the driver’s seat of your car. Jaemin stops wincing once you let him go, pouting when you enter through the back door. “Serves you right.” You scoff, throwing him the key to start the engine. 
He rubs his now swollen, red ear in pain, whining out loud like a kid that’s not allowed to buy popcorn when their parents bring them to the movie theatre. “This is domestic violence, I’m suing.” He complains but still hits the gas and starts backing out of the overpacked parking lot. People go wild during the weekends. That’s why you’re letting him drive because you suck. 
You smile satisfactorily. “Ah, enslaved child labor at its finest.” If looks could kill, Minho would probably find your corpse in the car, limbs spread wide open because Jaemin is occasionally tossing you dirty looks through the rear-view mirror as he finds a way to hide a body while driving towards your neighborhood. 
When you get home, you politely offer Jaemin to stay for dinner but he said he’s got a date to catch up with so you just let him be. Yeji isn’t gonna be home until nine because of her shift at the café so you basically have the whole apartment to yourself until your roommate returns from work. 
Exhausted from spending all day on campus and going to the movies after, you quickly get rid of your long coat and plop yourself onto the couch. You waste absolutely no time and automatically hang yourself upside down on the cushioned surface while scrolling through your feed in boredom. You like to change up your position every ten minutes so that you feel less like a potato while your blood circulation isn’t gonna get blocked anywhere. 
The moment you’re about to accept a video call from Jisung, you’re interrupted with a rather strange notification. You decide to text him, saying that you’re busy with a presentation and open the email from an unknown email. The email doesn’t have any specific title and you don’t think it belongs to any of your classmates. However, there’s a file attached to it which makes you even more confused. Who’d send a random video to someone they don’t even know? What if this is some kind of trick that people use for human trafficking? Like once you tap on it, there’s an automatic tracker on your phone and soon enough, you’ll go missing. 
“for_you.mp4”
It makes your heart skip a beat as realization hits you like a truck. Deep down, you know, you know who it belongs to and you’re even more terrified to watch it. But you have to, you have to watch it. With a sharp inhale, your index finger trembles until it comes in contact with your screen, opening the file. 
“Is this thing on?” 
You immediately burst into tears as soon as Changbin appears. You’re stupidly, foolishly crying as he awkwardly adjusts the camera angle, checking himself in the monitor and runs a hand through his hair. Changbin’s wearing that one fitted black t-shirt that he probably bought in big bulks, warm brown eyes peeking through his messy bangs. He’s never looked better to the point that you’re tongue-tied, unable to scream even when you have so many questions, so many things to say. Yet only tears come streaming down your face. You missed him dearly, and here he is finally. 
“Y/N?” Changbin quirks a brow and smiles. God, you missed his smile too. “If you’re watching this video, don’t..post it on social media. It’s gonna be a real tearjerker.” 
You chuckle, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your hoodie. He didn’t change, at all. “I don’t know if you can still forgive me for what I’ve done, but I still owe you an apology. I’m sorry for running away. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I’m sorry for not treating you right. It’s just when you said that you loved me, it sparked so much skepticism inside my head that even I couldn’t understand what I was thinking. Next thing I know, I was out the door, straight to the airport. I was an asshole and I know that. I hope you’re taking good care of yourself right now because you did nothing wrong. In fact, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to tell you too. I can’t seem to be complete without you. You’re it. You’re my endgame.” 
When Changbin takes in a deep breath, so do you. You nervously scratch onto the black nail polish that’s starting to chip off on your pinkie, waiting for him as he fiddles with his fingers. Suddenly, he looks straight into the camera and laughs. “Why are you still here? You didn’t see the notification, did you?”
What notification?
Your trains of thoughts are once again canceled when your phone buzzes. You’ve just got a notification from an app that you barely touched since Changbin left. “SpearB just posted a new track. Check it out!”
“Neverending Story ( Demo ).” 
Faster than a tick of the clock, you start playing the track, fingers drumming impatiently on one of your throw pillows. “Be mine, yeah?” His raspy voice sounds ten thousand times more attractive because it’s been a while since you’ve heard it and chills run up your spine. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, your heart hanging on the verge of exploding. The soft instrumental blends in with the piano in the background perfectly, drowning out every other sound in the entire world. But what throws you off is that Changbin starts singing. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sing and it’s truly breathtaking that you can do nothing more than sitting there with a hand over your mouth, letting the melody guide your mind. 
“Whenever you smile, whenever you struggle
I'll always protect you
For you,
I can even go against time
Just to appear in front of you
I believe, I believe
Even if the world changes
Can you promise that we won't?”
The first verse bleeds into the pre-chorus, then the chorus itself and Changbin starts rapping, spilling the feelings that he’s been struggling with saying out for you. Every word, every sound, every note hits differently and you feel like you’re already on cloud nine, drifting off into a daze. You can fully acknowledge and feel the ignited passion that he has for you even when he’s more than five thousand miles away, on the other side of the planet. But that’s all you need honestly because what more can you ask for? 
As if on cue, the song ends and there’s a knock at your door. 
Heat rushes up the bridge of your nose as you wobble towards the front door, head still slightly lightheaded from the mixture of emotions. You quickly fix your hair, straightening your hoodie and your toes curl from the nervousness. The moment you twist the doorknob, Changbin backs you up against the wall, shutting the door with his feet. He stares you down intensely, making you feel extremely small in comparison. But those eyes of his are filled with nothing but adoration for you and only you. “I’m in love with you, the same way that you meant it back then. I’ve been in love with you for even God doesn’t know how long. I booked a plane ticket and wrote the song as soon as that thought clicked in me. You’re all that I need. I want you to be my one and only. And I still want you back, so what do you say?” 
Your lips curl upwards softly into a smile. “You’re really outdoing yourself, aren’t you? I confessed to you when I was drunk and not only did you film a video, but you also wrote a song for me?”
“Only for you, Beastie.” Changbin chuckles and pulls you closer, sealing the gap between your lips. He’s done it, he did what he’s been wanting to for his entire life : to know what being in love actually feels like. His kiss isn’t even somewhere near as those movie stars’ that you both used to make fun of every weekend. It’s one that steeped into a passion that flickers at the very pit of your stomach, one that makes you feel like home, like he’s your safe place. Changbin’s said everything that he wanted but he kisses you as a silent promise that he will do stupid things just to be with you, to have you right by his side for the rest of his life. 
He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours as you both exchange shallow breaths. Smiling at you, Changbin can’t help himself but peppers small kisses all over your face from your forehead to the tip of your nose. 
Life likes to toss you around and fuck you up sometimes but somehow, magically it always puts everything back in its place. The amount of tears that you’ve shed feels like payment for what you’re holding in your arms right now but there’s nothing that you won’t do to be here, in his embrace. Technically, Changbin didn’t have to say those three words back and he only did because he could, not because he needed to. 
Even if he’s five thousand miles away, no one else is closer to your heart than he is. He loves you with all of the madness in his soul.
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mikkomacko · 4 years
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In The Shadows 3
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n stumbles as she presses her foot into her shoe while simultaneously trying to pull a hoodie over her head. Zoe is waiting outside for them to head to the bus, and y/n has only been home for a few minutes.She wiggles her foot around until it’s comfortable in its shoe, grabbing the small travel bag she thankfully packed this morning and rushing out of the room. 
The house is still empty. for reasons unknown to y/n because Jess got out of class twenty minutes ago. She reminds herself that she doesn’t care, double checking for her keys and throwing open the front door. She waves at Zoe, locking the door before practically skipping down the pathway to her. 
The walk to the soccer field is quick,filled with small talk about their day and Zoe letting y/n know she brought a portable charger in case she needs it. They check in with the sponsor going with them, and y/n heads towards the back bus when Zoe grabs her elbow. 
“VIP, remember?” She winks, tugging her towards the front bus. A couple of the soccer boys greet Zoe as she walks down the aisle and they smile politely at y/n, who’s trying hard not to blush with so many eyes on her. As they reach the back of the bus y/n notices more girls, all of them sat with their respective soccer player. The girl y/n sat by the first game, Eleanor, gives y/n a bright smile as she walks by. At the very back of the bus is where Zoe finally sits down, taking the aisle seat with Niall. She’s immediately greeted with a kiss from Niall and y/n smiles sweetly. They’re absolutely adorable.
“Hey peanut, guess you’re stuck with me!”
Harry’s peeking over the seat at her, the crinkles by his green eyes giving away his covered smile,and y/n grins back. She can’t help but thank the heavens for sitting with her Harry, and she moves to sit down when he stands up. 
“Can I have the aisle? Legs are too long for window?” He asks, chuckling shyly. Y/n nods, not hesitating to clamber into next to the window. She sets her bag between her feet, and Harry settles next to her. He shuffles a bit, reaching up to the overhead racks and pulling down a reusable grocery bag.
“Ya still like the cinnamon poptarts, yeah?”
Y/n nods, eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Harry digs into his bag. After a few seconds of shuffling, Harry’s tongue poking out in concentration, he reveals a box of her favorite poptarts. 
“Ta-da!”
She giggles at his boyish smile, taking the box from him to pull a pack out. “What else did you stuff in there?”
Harry’s cheeks tinge pink, and y/n feels herself get starry eyed at the sight. She hasn’t seen him blush since Jess’ pool party her sophmore year when she openly oggled his naked chest. It was the first time she noticed he was starting to fill out and his abdomen getting grooves. 
He hands her the bag, and one quick glance makes her eyes widen. Harry has shoved bags of chips, packs of cookies, crackers, juice boxes, and numerous other snacks into the bag. And he doesn’t even eat half of these snacks!
“Harry!” She laughs as the bus begins rolling away. “You don’t even like Yahoos!”
He shrugs, taking the bag from her and settling it by his feet. “Yeah, but you do and well, I uh I like you. I mean I like you when you’re uh well fed and yeah.”
He averts his gaze, fishing out a bag of fruit snacks. Y/n watches his trembling fingers tear open the bag and he shoves an unnecessary amount into his mouth. She takes a bite of her poptart, observing his odd behavior while she’s chewing. Harry takes out another bag of fruit snacks.
“Thank you,” y/n finally says, “for the snacks and drinks and liking me I guess.” She feels like a fool for saying it, but it’s as honest as she can be without blatantly telling him she really likes him. “I like you when you’re well fed too.”
His smile is bashful but blinding, her stomach flooding with heat. Twin grins on their lips and gleaming eyes,they finish their snacks in silence. Y/n sinks down in the seat, resting her knees against the seat in front of her. Harry scoots down a bit too, wiggling his phone out of his sweatpants pocket. 
“Wanna listen to music?”
Y/n nods, and Harry hands her an airpod before scrolling through his Spotify. He shuffles a random album, closing the app but before he can lock is phone she spots a certain icon. 
“Can I play Mario Kart?”
Harry doesn’t hesitate to hand his phone over, and she opens the app. She squeals quietly when she sees that he’s got Dry Bones unlocked, clicking the character and starting a race. Harry scoots closer to her, head practically resting on hers while he watches her play. Y/n presses her foot against his thigh, pretending she doesn’t notice it, and wishing they were laying in the hammock at the frat house so she’d have an excuse to lay her head on his chest. 
The Warriors may be a good team, but their school is small. So small, the bleachers are practically on top of the players bench and y/n could lean forward to touch their shoulders if she wanted to. Her and Zoe managed to sit in the front again, and Eleanor sat with them too but this time she brought a girl named Asteria. They're both super nice, and give y/n kind hugs and a sweet little compliment of "you're so cute!" so she doesn't mind sitting with them. In fact, she's really fucking glad she listened to Zoe and decided to come.
The teams have taken the field, Harry and Niall meeting with the other two captains for the coin toss. Y/n can't hear them, but she sees Harry's proud grin and his little nudge to Niall letting her know they've won the toss. After shaking hands with each other, the four captains take their positions on the field, Niall staying by line and Harry up front. Thankfully, she's learned that Harry's called a forward and Niall a wing.
"How did Harry and Niall become captains?" Y/n asks, realizing that they're two of the youngest players on the team. The ref blows the whistle and the Warriors start passing the ball around.
"Older boys chose Harry," Zoe explains, eyes still following the soccer ball. "he had this really good game last year. Team was down by one and coach had just thrown kids in random spots because they assumed we'd lose anyway-"
"Was a playoff game," Astoria cuts in, "they had to win or they'd be eliminated."
"Right, anyway the other team got a hand ball around midfield and Harry was the only player on the team willing to take the free kick-" Zoe's cut off by a round of cheering and y/n realizes that Niall is taking the ball down the sideline. They jump to their feet as their team gets closer to the defensive line, Harry sneaking in with the other team as Niall comes to the penalty box.
"Let's go Ni!" Zoe cheers, and he pulls back like he's going to take a shot only to pass it into the line. Harry's quick to run forward, the goalie trying to dive over for the ball but he's too slow. Harry toes the ball into the back corner.
"Way to go Harry!" Y/n hollers, clapping and exchanging high fives with the girls. They sit back down as the ball goes back to the center circle.
"Anyway Harry took the free kick, and somehow he managed to score. Like barely fucking made it in the corner of the goal. The other team was so shocked that he managed to kick it that far the goalie didn't even jump. It was insane!"
Y/n finds herself smiling proudly, looking for Harry on the field. He's waiting in the circle by the Warrior's defense again, lightly pacing as they attempt to break through our defense. She pictures how happy he must of been after tying that game, how he'd probably been tackled by his teammates. Mostly, she thinks of how big his smile must have been.
"You two are so fucking cute!" Eleanor groans next to her, and y/n blushes. She tears her gaze from the field to the brunette next to her.
"What?"
"You and Harry. You both are like so grinny and giggley around each other, I love it." Eleanor squeezes her forearm for emphasis, and y/n isn't sure if Eleanor thinks her and Harry are together or not. She doesn't want to assume, but her heart does flutter at the thought. If she looked at them and thought they were dating that means maybe Harry likes her, right? Why else would she see a relationship between the two?
"I never thought Harry would be the giggley boy type, but it definitely fits him." Asteria adds, smiling cutely at y/n.
"He's always been that way," she quickly says, pushing herself to be more social. This is making friends, telling stories and sharing laughs. "I think he was laughing the first time I met him."
"How long have you known Harry?"
It was years ago, but she doesn't even have to think before responding. She could never forget that day. "Since I was nine. We lived across the street from each other."
'And his sister is my best friend...'
The coos and awes that leave the two girls lips makes her blush even more, and she nervously twirls a strand of hair around her finger.
"That's literally a Nickolas Sparks novel!"
"Why aren't you guys dating yet?"
Y/n freezes at the question, looking over at Zoe for help. Her friend shrugs with a teasing smirk. "I think it'd be worth it y/n."
The stands erupt into cheers as the Warriors score. Y/n's shoulders slump when she sees Harry shaking his head in disappoinment. And she feels a bit bad for not paying attention to the game.
"It's complicated," she says, cringing when she realizes the correct word to describe it would be forbidden. She can't imagine how upset Jess would be if her and Harry got together.
Asteria reaches over Eleanor, placing a comforting hand on her knee. "So is Zayn but I fucking love him."
Her brash words make y/n laugh, and then the other two are giggling as well. They focus back on the game, cheering wildly when someone on defense manages a perfect ball tackle without getting a penalty, but y/n can't help but replay Asteria's words over and over in her mind. It shouldn't matter if it'd be complicated to be with Harry, because it's her feelings that matter and it's his feelings that matter. If they both want to be with each other, that should be it right? No matter what anyone says?
She looks up just as Harry's being subbed for a quick water break, his messy hair flopping as he jogs to the bench. He gulps down water messily, watching the game continue without him. After a moment, he looks over his shoulder at the stands, raising a curious eyebrow at y/n. She feels the other girls' gazes, choosing to ignore them in favor of giving him a smile and a wave. He wiggles his fingers back at her, grinning broadly before he's moving to get back on the field.
"He hardly took a break," y/n says in confusion, eyebrows dropping down, "why is he already going back in?"
Zoe's doesn't even try to hide her snicker until Eleanor swats at her arm. "Well, it looks like he's trying to impress a certain someone."
Y/n blushes again at the wide smirks thrown her way, ducking her head down to watch the game through her eyelashes until she's managed to calm her racing heart. It's futile, because Harry's found a groove and completely dominates the field. And he always grins in her direction after a goal, earning her remarks from her three new friends. By the end of the game, Harry finishing with a whopping five goals, she thinks her face might be on fire, as well as her heated veins.
~
Harry's never walked on clouds, but if he did, he imagines it would feel like this. Heart racing, stomach fluttering, and cheeks aching from smiling. It doesn't matter how many times he sprinted the length of the field, because he doesn't feel tired at all. No, in fact, he feels lighter than usual, as if he were full of helium. And it's such a great feeling, running into the huddle of his cheering teammates, back swatted at with pride and shoulders squeezed in appreciation. It's even greater to look up and see y/n celebrating, smiling practically falling off the ends of her face as she shares high fives with the girls around her.
He can't help himself.
He jogs over to the fence, pushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead and leaping up the fence so he can be closer to y/n. His fingers dig into the chain link painfully, but he doesn't care.
"Come down here peanut." He requests over the cheers, nudging his head towards the field. Students behind her start exiting the bleachers, but she stays still, a lighthouse in the fog.
"Down there?" She asks, eyes widening as she looks around for a gate or some kind of entrance. Harry reaches out with one hand, tugging her closer by her shirt.
"I've got ya." He promises, cleats clacking as he jumps down. Y/n looks at the drop hesitantly, but one nod from him has her swinging a leg over the fence. She balances on her bottom, hands gripping the pole at the top and when she jumps down, he locks his hands on her hips to catch her.
Using his shoulders to ground herself, y/n giggles shyly when she blinks open her eyes and finds Harry's face inches away from hers. It's as if everything around them has stopped. The crowd's cheers fall on deaf ears, their movement goes unnoticed, and the team gathering together is forgotten.
"Thanks Har,"
"Of course,"
Their voices are no more than whispers, so close together his warm breath is felt on her face and she can smell the swear on his skin. Surprisingly (but not really) the musk fits him well, bringing out the oakiness of his cologne.
For too long they stay inches apart, Harry's hands firm on her waist and hers on his chest. She's stuck on his eyes, taking in the dark gem color until she realizes the utter happiness in them. Snapped back into reality, she moves her arms around his neck, face going into his shoulder as she squeezes him.
"You did so well!"
Harry chuckles breathlessly in her ear, arms looping around her waist and he lifts her up onto her tip toes. He mutters his thanks, squeezing her in return. She thinks it feels nice to hold him like this, to feel his heart pounding against hers.
He sets her back onto her feet, but his arms stay strong around her, keeping their hips flush. The warmth of his body and his brazen action makes her gasp and flush red, and before she can even think about this being her best friend's brother, his lips are on hers.
Harry's soft but sure as he kisses her, and she feels his lips quirk up when she puckers her mouth into his. Her heart jumps when he pulls back, forehead resting on hers and eyes fluttering open.
"I like you peanut," he breathes, "and not just when you're well fed."
Her giddiness bubbles over and she giggles, practically trembling in his hands as she pecks his mouth again.
"I like you all the time too."
Harry slots his mouth against hers again, and her arms tighten around his neck in hopes of holding him there forever. Evidently, their forever isn't that day because someone's tossing an empty water bottle at Harry and yelling for him to get back on the bus.
They don't say anything as Harry gathers his bags and takes her hand, leading her towards the bus, but their smiles say enough. It's as if the entire world has shifted around them when they climb on the bus, everyone either grinning cheekily or even clapping him on the back. Asteria even woops at y/n, making her body heat up.
She pointedly ignores all other gazes as she plops down by the window, biting her lip giddily when Harry smiles boyishly at her.
"Mind holding this peanut?"
Without hesitation she shakes her head, taking Harry's bag from him. He thanks her quietly, peeling off his sweaty jersey and dropping it into his lap. She tries to keep her eyes off his naked chest, but it's been awhile since she's seen Harry without a shirt and it seems he's got even more muscular over the years. Not to mention that his dark ink ripples with every move of a muscle.
He digs a towel out of the bag, wiping off his exposed skin and hair before dropping that into his lap as well. If he notices her nervously gnawing on her bottom lip, he doesn't say anything, instead pulling out a clean shirt and slipping it over his head. It's not until he's peeled off his cleats and shin guards, and rubbed more deodorant under his arms does he speak to her.
"S'okay to oggle peanut," he simpers, looking at her through his eyelashes as he leans over to pull on regular shoes. "m'bloody hot if I do say so myself."
Y/n giggles, tossing his bag at him with a roll of her eyes. A deep chuckle leaves his mouth, and he stands up to put his bag on the rack as the bus starts rolling forward. He falls back into the seat, groaning softly and flexing his shoulders.
Her smile falls. "You okay?"
"Exhausted, but m'fucking fantastic right now." He seals his words by pressing a wet kiss to her cheek. Again she giggles, and again his dimpled school boy smile jumps out.
"I'm fantastic too, Har."
His grin widens, and despite his exhausted eyes he looks absolutely breath taking. Y/n manages to squirm around until her back is nestled in the corner of the seat, feet up on Harry's lap. She pats her thighs shyly and he immediately understands.
Much like when they were kids stuck in the car on long road trips, Harry maneuvers until her legs are on either side of him, his back against her chest and she grins when he digs out a blanket from his travel bag. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, resting on his broad chest. They fall asleep like that, tucked in the shadows of street lights and gossiping whispers, not even thinking of the other Styles waiting back home.
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Savior (Series 81) - Erik Černák
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(This GIF is mine, but feel free to share his beautiful smile. *wink*)
I whish you a wonderful day. I decided to finally post this thing. It is the very first part of a little project of mine. I named it Series 81 (yes very creative of me, sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) and it is a serie of oneshots, which should make sense without reading the other parts. I am creating a new universe for this serie and all of the Series 81 oneshots will be from the same AU. Does that make sense? No? Too bad.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Part 1 of Series 81
Word count: 2577
Noise, lights, people and alcohol.
Loud music bouncing off of the isolated underground walls, to prevent the noise complaints from coming, is blending together with the voices of dancers. Dancers, who would stubbornly claim, that the sound was actually singing. If you asked anyone else, they would tell you the exact opposite.
Flashing lights could cause more than one seizure to an epileptic, but make no worries to the tipsy dancers. The dance floor is flooded by not the smallest amount of bodies per say. Only one spot remains almost empty. In the very corner, next to the DJ booth. Just a few seconds prior it was occupied by a group of young girls, dancing their night away. Gradually they slipped away to go god knows where. Safe for one.
Little blond girl is suddenly left all alone, her friends excusing themselves with a promise to be right back. They aren't. But the creepy looking guy, who's been eyeing her the entire night, is. Now he is trying to get closer to her, but she's not having any of that. She makes the bee-line for their table. However, the table is now claimed by some strangers with drinks in hands. She huffs and turns on her heel. He's still looking. More like staring.
She fidgets with her phone and clicks the contact icon. No signal. Is this some kind of a sick joke or bad karma? She thinks. She runs up the stairs and next to the very entrance, the signal is back.
The number is dialed and it rings.
She doesn't pick up.
"Why the hell can't she pick up the damn phone when I need her?" she mumbles desperately under her breath. Suddenly she remembers. Her jacket. It was left forgotten in the booth filled with strangers. She goes back. Speed-walking by the pair of eyes making her skin crawl. She asks for her jacket. When she is handed the jacket she makes a run for the bathroom. In the tiny space she splashes her face with water. It’s times like these she is really grateful for not wearing any make up at all.
She stays there for a little longer than necessary, hoping that by the time she leaves her friends will have returned already.
When she emerges and walks over to the dance floor she is met only with the disgusting stare again. She turns on her heel to leave, but is met with a hard surface she is pretty sure wasn't here couple of seconds ago. A yelp escapes her mouth and she takes a step back.
"I'm sorry, are you alright?"
The hard surface is in fact a broad chest of a tall man standing in front of her. She takes in his features. Light hair, or so she assumes since it is pretty dark in the club, besides the flashing lights. His shoulders are wide and that face...
Recognition flashes in her eyes. Her lips form an "o".
The voice speaks again. This time in English instead of her native language.
"I am fine." She finally responds, in Slovak. "I'm sorry I didn't see you I was... " she trails off. Trying to get away from that creepy dude over here. She thinks.
"Which one?" he looks around.
"What?"
"That creepy guy. Is that him?" he jabs his chin behind her. She looks over her shoulder briefly.
"Yeah," she nods.
"I'm Erik, by the way." says the not so mysterious man and extends his hand to her.
"Lucia," she accepts his hand.
"So, you want some help getting rid of him?"
"I- yeah, actually yes." She mentally face palms for tripping over her own words. He only smiles.
"Would you like to dance?" He offers. She gives him a small nod. She is led towards the dance floor with her hand in his, which makes her heart rate quicken. But not the same way like when she was followed by the creepy gaze. The blaring music pulses trough her veins while she does her best to forget the weird guy. Having Erik as a distraction right in front of her helps a lot, though. The way his eyes stay glued on her face makes her insides warm. His gaze flicks behind her and he reaches for her. He grabs her waist and leans in.
"He's looking." He talks over the music.
"So you're doing it only because he is watching us and you are definitely not using the situation to your advantage." She muses.
"I might be." A smirk stretches on his lips.
Her hands wrap around his neck and her smirk mirrors his own. The roaring noise makes her almost deaf, yet she swears she can hear her heart beating in her ears. That's what his cocky little smirk and touch do to her. She might have just met him, but she's realised one thing the moment she met his gaze. She's fucked and under his spell. She might be a little shy, but she sure as hell ain't giving up that easily. Two can play this game.
Her palm slides down his chest and back up to his arm. She traces the muscles on his arm all the way down towards his wrist. She grabs it and brings it in the air. She makes him twirl like men do to women while they dance. Erik laughs, but plays along. A smile makes its way on her features. He takes her hands. He turns her in his arms, with her arms crossed over her chest. He leans down to her ear.
"Why are you here alone?" his breath fans her neck, making a shiver run down her back.
"I am not alone," she turns and pushes his chest. His hand reaches for her wrist before she can get too far.
He spins her and brings her back to him. Putting his hands on her waist she places her small ones on his broad shoulders.
"I take it there is no boyfriend to worry about."
"If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't need you in the first place," she answers confidently.
He squeezes her hips dragging her closer. His lips grazing the delicate skin of her exposed neck while he speaks his next words."You sure do run your mouth."
The breath gets caught in her throat. "But you like it," he doesn't miss the teasing in her words. A deep groan rumbles in his chest. She might not hear it, but she does feel it under her fingers.
A familiar song comes through the speakers and she pulls away a bit. She grabs his hands and smiles big. She starts waving around their conjoined hands like a mad person. Apparently this is her dance style.
When his gaze falls upon her moving figure he smiles just as wide. He's just gotten back home from Tampa and decided to blow off some steam in a club with his friends. It's been a long season and corona delaying the playoffs sure as hell made this summer different. Thank goodness for having the bars and clubs open, with limited capacity of course. Tonight he won't be thinking about hockey, though.
Who would have thought that after everything that is happening around him he would quite literally stumble upon a woman like Lucia.
Behind Erik she spots her friends coming back in. They haven't noticed her yet, but are looking around. She slips away from his grip.
"I have to go." She looks away from his piercing gaze and makes a move to step around him.
"Wait," he catches her arm gently. "Don't run away from me. Even Cinderella left a shoe behind," he smiles.
"Smooth." The corner of her lips tugs up into a devilish smirk. "Give me your best pick-up line and I just might leave something behind."
He pauses, thinking. Then he opens his mouth as he speaks. "I've got one, but it's in English," he rubs the back of his neck. Suddenly seeming out of place.
"Try me."
"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"
This one is her favourite. If it's finished correctly, that is.
"No, I actually crawled from hell," she gives him an innocent smile. This is the part where she tests him.
"So that's why you're so damn hot." If it wasn't his words, then it was the smirk what did it for her. Lucia motions for Erik to hand her his phone. He happily obliges. She goes to his apps and adds herself on snapchat. He didn't think he would get her number that easily, did he?
"Here," she pushes the small box into his palm. She stands on her tiptoes and leans on his shoulder. She quickly presses a kiss to his cheek and disappears as if she's never been there. But she was. And the proof is now in his phone.
"There you are. Where were you?" one of her friends, a short brunette, asks her as soon as she approaches their group.
"Me? All of you disappeared and left me here alone. Which reminds me. Where the fuck were you?" She jumps into the defence mode immediately.
"I told you I went out to buy cigarettes. Calm down," the girl resists to roll her eyes.
"Wanna dance?" a tall equally brown-haired girl asks.
"Sure," all of them answer as one. The girls make their way to the dance floor. From the very center where they managed to squeeze in, Lucia catches a familiar par of eyes. And then another, one she would rather forget. She fixes him with a glare and resumes her dance moves. Her favourite song comes up and she squeals. She leans toward her friends. "This is my song." She yells over the loud music. They all laugh, but scream the lyrics on the top of their lungs with her.
Suddenly Lucia feels a presence behind her. She tenses, her eyes crying for help.  But her friends are too busy to actually notice that. Hands settling on her waist finally get a reaction out of her. She spins pushing his chest. She is in the middle of the process of raising her hand when she realises who it is.
"Do riti Erik! You scared me!"
"I'm sorry, but that guy was getting close again so I thought I'd give you a hand, " he smiles innocently.
"Or two hands on my waist, right?" she raises her brows, a smirk stretching on her lips.
"Didn't think you'd mind,"mirroring her expression he extends his arm towards her. "Shall we dance?"
Before she has the chance to grab his outstretched hand her friends are dragging her away. She grimaces kind of apologetically.
"I'll see you,"she mouths. Yeah, in the friking TV. She thinks bitterly.
//
After a rather long walk through the town they finally get to the bus stop. Maybe and maybe not four police cars go by and maybe and maybe not one of them actually stops to ask if everything is okay. Because maybe and maybe not some of the girls were dancing on the bus stop.
When Lucia finally gets on the bus she fishes her phone out of her purse. She takes a pic of the darkness behind the bus window and posts it on snapchat.
Erik.Cernak
Are you going by bus?
Lucyy
Yes?
Erik.Cernak
Are you alone in a bus at night??
Lucyy
I mean, there are some people in the bus...
Erik.Cernak
What bus are you on?
Lucyy
N1 why?
Erik.Cernak
Do you get off on the terminus?
Lucyy
Yes?
Erik.Cernak
If anything happens during the bus ride text me okay?
Lucyy
Okay.
He is worried about me?
Why, yes. Erik is indeed worried about Lucia. Finding out a pretty girl from the club is going home alone in the dark, sure does make one feel unsettling to say the least.
The bus ride goes rather smoothly. It's just the fact that the guy sitting a few rows in front of Lucia on a seat facing her keeps looking at her. To say it makes her stomach bubble with uneasiness would be an understatement. The closer to the terminus the bus gets the emptier the bus is.
When it's time to get off it's only her and another older lady sitting in the very back. She steps outside into the dark of the night and looks around to make sure no danger is waiting around.
A tall male figure is standing near the lamp post. His hair is indeed blond, just like she assumed before. She approaches him with a rather quiet "ahoj".
"Hi. Where to?" he asks.
She rises her eyebrows with an amused smile playing on her lips. "At least ask me out first."
"I might. If you are nice." He smirks.
"Too bad. I am a very mean person." She shrugs.
"Are you now?" He lifts his brow.
"Yeah." She moves her shoulders again. "Come on it's kinda cold." She gestures with her hand and starts walking.
"Is that an invitation?" He follows.
"Don't push your luck Erik."
After a minute or so Erik's deep voice cuts through the quiet air of Košice. "Watcha doin' next week?"
She smirks."I am going out with this hot guy I met recently." She answers nonchalantly.
"Really? And who that might be?"He catches on her intentions quickly.
"You see he lives in Florida, you probably don't know him." She shakes her head. Just as the chilly breeze wraps its arms around her a shiver runs through her body. Soon a denim-like hoodie is placed on her shoulders.
"I though he was some local or something." He states as if he didn't just give her the only layer of his clothing other than the tight T-shirt.
"He's a Košice born guy actually." She shrugs. "Won't you be cold?" She looks up at him, but pulls the hoodie tighter.
"Nah, I can hear your teeth clattering. Keep it." He shakes his head. "So when are the two of you going out?"
"Monday at two I guess." She shrugs again. She sure does shrug a lot.
"Good." He nods.
They stop in front of an old flat and she turns around to face him."Thanks for walking me home and making sure and I didn't die along the way."She laughs. He likes her laugh. He really does.
"Mom would be ashamed of me if I let a pretty lady go home alone at night. "She chuckles again. A shiver runs down his spine when the wind blows again. She makes a move to return him the hoodie, but he extends his hand and shakes his head lightly.
"I'll get it back later."
She laughs shaking her head."You guys always let us have your clothes just to see us again."
He smirks. "You caught me."
"Just try not to freeze to death."
"I'll try to stay alive till Monday. Your smile will keep me warm." He winks.
"Gosh you're cheesy." She couldn't help, but roll her eyes.
He takes a step closer."I am glad I met you."
Lucia's confident facade wavers for a second."Same here."
They just stand there looking at each other not letting out a single tone slip past their lips. Erik leans closer, his hot breath fanning over her cold cheeks. Lucia inches towards him, but not connecting their lips yet. She wants him to take the last step. And so he does, slightly leaning in meeting the pink lips of the girl he quite literally ran into.
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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years
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Picture Perfect (Indruck)
A friend on discord @morganeashton asked for this meet ugly for Indruck: 09. we’re strangers who meet at a bar, get drunk, and wake up to announcements of our new engagement all over our social media - what did we do???
Duck’s woken up with worse hangovers. He’s also woken up with far worse people in his bed. The man next to him is slim and angular, silvery hair falling across his face as he sleeps. Yep, just as cute today as he was yesterday. 
Now if only he could remember if they slept together. 
He groans quietly as he climbs out of bed; he’s in a fluffy hotel robe with nothing beneath it. So one point in the “we fucked” category.
Duck tugs the curtains, already mostly closed, all the way shut to block out harsh daylight. The man, Indrid, makes a chirping noise and rolls over, still asleep.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“I was not aware this was that kind of bar.”
“It’s, uh, I mean, it ain;t, but, uh, you, uh, you looked kinda lonesome and , uh, well, fuck, nevermind, sorry-”
“It’s alright” the man grins reassuringly, setting a hand with black painted nails on Duck’s arm, “it would be good for me to spend the night with something other than my own thoughts.”
Duck hops onto the stool next to him, signals the bartender for drinks
Padding out into the next room, the suite is just as impressive as last it was last night. Whoever Indrid is, he’s loaded. 
“So, uh, what do you do?”
“I’m a photographer.”
“Really? Damn, I, uh, I dabble in it as a hobby, mostly nature stuff, and I’m fuckin’ amazed by anyone who can do it as a job. Shit’s hard.”
“It is rather challenging at times, though I enjoy it. What do you do?”
“I’m a ranger in the national forest. Live in Kepler, that dinky little town by it, came the half hour here for a work conference.”
“That sounds fascinating, tell me everything” Indrid leans closer, grinning.
“Uh, okay. Usually folks are itchin to make some joke about trees. Or Smokey the Bear.”
“I suppose you are bear-like.”
“Heh-”
“I like it.”
“Guh.”
He finds a room service menu on the table by the T.V the size of his first car, reads it over as he wanders back to the bedroom. Peeking into the trash, he doesn’t see any condoms or condom wrappers. One point in the ‘we didn’t fuck” category.
“That was last call, sugar.”
“No, unacceptable, I want to hear the bear-box story you, hic, --excuse me-- promised me.”
“And I wanna tell it, jus’ can’t be here.”
“Come, come back to my room. It’s big, we can talk, please come?”
“Course, darlin, whoa, damn, think we better take the elevator, little drunker than I meant to get.”
“I’ll, hic, admit I was paying more attention to you than my, hic, drink quantity, my sweet.”
He sets the menu down, wanders into the bathroom but finds no pain killers. Settles for filling two glasses with tap water and carrying them to a side table. When he slides back under the blankets and rests against the headboard, Indrid sighs, wiggles closer and snuggles so his nose is bumping Duck’s thigh.
“Morning?”
“Yep.”
“Ugh.”
“Here, this’ll help.” He hands Indrid the water as he blearily sits up. The taller man downs it in one, handing the empty glass back to him with a smile.
“Thank you. Such lovely southern manners.”
“You’re welcome. And, uh, speakin of manners, do you remember if we…”
“No, we did not. There was some kissing, I recall, but we decided we were too drunk. A wise decision all told, though the temptation was great.” Indrid slowly looks him over, smile turning from sleepy to sultry.
“Well uh, this was they day I set aside for sight-seein. Think I could be persuaded to see some sights right here.” His phone buzzes. He ignores it.
“Really now.” Indrid purrs, leaning in to kiss his cheek. On the other nightstand, his phone dings. He ignores it. 
“Oughta get some breakfast in us first, fuckin on a hangover stomach ain’t fun.” Another buzz.
“Mmm, very wise. Their breakfast is quite good, you can order whatever you like.” Indrid is nearly in his lap. His phone dings twice more. 
“Ain’t you the polite host--for fucks sake.” Duck reaches over and grabs his phone, Indrid sighing and mirroring him when his dings three more times. 
He has texts from Juno, Aubrey, and Ned, two calls from Jane, and one from Joe, and all seem to be about…
“Oh no” Indrid covers his mouth with one hand, brown eyes wide, “oh no, oh Duck, oh I’m supremely sorry.”
“Married? What the fuck? We didn’t get married, we cant, there ain’t a spot for it here, what the fuck-”
“Why do they think this, it must be oh, oh dear” he turns his phone. It’s an Instagram profile, at the top of which is a photo of the two of them in  their robes in this very bed, lounging together with goofy smiles as Indrid kisses Duck’s cheek. The caption is even worse.
“Best man ever. Internet, say hello to my husband. Isn’t he handsome?” Duck reads aloud, Indrid making a prolonged noise of alarm as the phone continues dinging. 
“I’m so sorry, I, I don’t know, I must have been trying to type future husband? Which is still hyperbolic, I was drunk, but it would have been more salvageable.”
“Okay, right, we all done some boneheaded shit havin’ had a few too many, but why the fuck does everyone and their goddamn uncle know?”
“I....I never said my last name last night, did I.”
“No.” Duck’s stomach sours.
“I’m Indrid Cold.”
Duck blinks at him, and even in the midst of the panic he smiles a little.
“I didn’t get the sense you knew of me, which was part of your already considerable charm. I, I am the man you call for your Rolling Stone spread or your Vanity Fair cover, the one magazines fight over to have cover the MET Gala or the Oscars. My social media followers meet the same number as some countries populations, and I am notoriously reclusive and private about my life. Hence the uproar.” He rubs his forehead, “I am fairly certain I just wanted a picture of us; I was having so much fun, you, you made me feel so wonderful and I assumed this would be a fling, and I, I wanted a memento. In my compromised state, I must have misjudged where to put it.” 
“Huh.” Duck stares at his phone, still lighting up with new messages. He’s torn between being flattered and being really, really pissed. 
“I, ah, I will call my publicist and sort things out now. Excuse me.” 
Duck watches Indrid leave. His phone is buzzing with unfamiliar numbers now, and when he answers one it’s a reporter from a fashion site he’s never heard of. 
Indrid is handsome, and intriguing, and Duck desperately wants to see as much of him as he can. But there’s no way in hell he can handle this kind of attention, even if it’s misplaced. So while Indrid speaks, hurried and hushed, in the other room, he slips on yesterday’s clothes and disappears out the door. 
---------------------------------------------------
He almost doesn’t look at the phone when it buzzes. For starters, he’s at work, but also the last two weeks have made him never want to speak to another living human again. When he pulls it from his pocket and looks at the message a half-dozen emotions hit him at once.
Indrid: I’m fairly certain we exchanged numbers, so I hope this is the right one. Duck, if this is you, I hope you’re well. And if you’re interested, I was wondering if you’d like to meet again.
Duck: Yeah, it’s me. And my answer might be different if I hadn’t spent the last two weeks being hounded by fucking reporters.
Indrid: So my clarification did nothing.
Duck: convinced them there’d been some kind of drama, so now they all want to know if it was a money grab or I’m an escort or some shit like that.
Indrid: I’m sorry, Duck. I’ll make things right, somehow. 
Duck: Don’t do it thinking it’ll get you a second date. Because the thought of that much attention all at once again give me fucking hives.
There’s no response, so Duck jams the phone back into his pocket and trudges up the trail.
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Alright, maybe following Indrid’s Instagram was a bad idea. Because, unlike any other celeb on the platform, he never posts pictures of himself. Duck just wants to see his face again. 
He looks down, notices four new notifications; an account with only five posts and an icon that’s just two red circles followed him a few days ago, and whoever it belongs to really likes his photos. 
Refreshing the app brings a new post from Indrid, black background with red text.
Mr. Cold invites members of the press to learn how they can gain access to exclusive images and information. 
“Good for him.” Duck mutters, before rolling over and shutting off the light.
---------------------------------------------
Duck sits on the pebbled shore by the lake, skipping stones without counting their jumps. He’s off shift, could go home, but some evenings what he likes best is sitting here, watching the world change from afternoon to dusk. 
Someone is coming up the trail and he sighs; hardly anyone comes to this lake, and yet someone has to at the exact same time he’s trying to decompress. 
“It’s even lovelier in person.” 
Pebbles scatter as he spins.
“Indrid, what the fuck are you doing here? Uh, I mean” he scrambles for his words when he sees Indrid wince at the tone, “not that I ain’t happy to see you but...why?”
“I wanted to ask you if you were still being bothered.” The lilt is shy, nearly drowned out by the cicadas.
“Nope. Stopped about a week ago.”
“Ah good. That means my plan worked. You see I, ah, I offered every large press and small freelancer the chance to access never before seen pieces of my work, all for free. In exchange, they signed a contract that they would leave you alone indefinitely, regardless of your relationship to me, and that any writing on me and a partner would only be done with permission from both myself and them. Anyone who violated those clauses would face a very painful lawsuit.”
“You realize that didn’t do much to make people think I meant nothin to you.”
Indrid shrugs, “That was not the point. I wanted them to leave you alone.”
“Oh.” He looks back across the water, watches an Osprey skim the surface, “how’d you know I’d be here?”
“It’s a spot you shoot often, so I showed your friend at the station the photos and she pointed me the right way.”
“...You’re the person who’s been likin all my pictures, ain’t you?”
“Yes. I, ah, you post plenty of yourself, or your friend the Lady Flame tags you, and I, ah, I missed you, I thought about you so much that I wanted to see you. Perhaps that’s, ah, creepy. I thought it better than constantly trying to contact you.”
“Yeah, good call.”
Indrid shifts, awkwardly, “may I sit?”
Duck nods, and Indrid sinks onto the ground next to him.
“You really ain’t dressed for hikin, are you?”
“No. It’s not something I do often, though you make it sound very appealing.”
“We oughta go together then.” He sets his hand, upturned, on the warm rocks in between them.
“I would like that.” Indrid takes it, “perhaps we could go to lunch afterwards.”
“Sounds real nice.” Duck scoots closer, setting their joined hands on his thigh and resting his head on Indrid’s shoulder.
“To be certain I do not make a fool of myself again; are you saying you would like to try dating me?”
“That I would. But you gotta promise one thing.”
“Anything.”
“No pictures until the third date.” He grins and Indrid chuckles, leaning in for a kiss as warm and slow as the setting sun. 
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xellevexom · 4 years
Text
How to Make Hellfire Mushroom Rolled Cookies
This game has brought me purpose and life so, here, have some not wholesome juicy Luci content.  Also, this isn’t a recipe FYI Please ignore the spelling errors and grammar because I’m writing this on a tiny phone screen. I’m new to Tumblr so please be patient with my tags.
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You heard a message notification from your D.D.D. the moment you stepped out of the shower.
After quickly wrapping your hair up to in a towel, you walked over the bedside table when the device was charging. You carefully picked up the device, unsure how waterproof it was in your damp hands. You pressed the button that automatically woke up to display who sent a message.
It was from Diavolo.
Diavolo? I wonder what he wants.
Not wanting to incur the prince of hell’s wrath by ignoring his texts, you immediately opened the messenger app.
Diavolo: Hey there, MC.
Diavolo: I have a small favor to ask.
Diavolo: It’s about what Lucifer made. You know what I’m talking about.
You took a hot second to recall what he was talking about before sending a prompt response.
You: The hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies?
After a couple of seconds, the pencil icon signaled that Diavolo was writing his reply.
Diavolo: Right, that.
Diavolo: You helped Lucifer make them, right?
You pumped the breaks when panic erupted in your body as you recalled last weekend’s memory. Your fingers trembled as you carefully typed in your reply, making double, triple, even quadruple sure that you were concise with your words.
You: Who told you that?
After suffering an agonizing thirty seconds by the seemingly taunting pencil icon, a message popped up on your screen. You froze, reading his reply.
Diavolo: Why Lucifer, if course.
“Lucifer, stop!” You pleaded as you took away the measuring spoons from his hands.
The first-born demon’s icy stare was cutting you through like paper, but you managed to ignore it as you sort out the mess he created.
“I don’t see how one teaspoon is enough to make this sweet recipe.”
You shot him an incredulous look. “First of all, this a savory recipe. Secondly, just because they’re cookies, that doesn’t mean they’re always sweet, and lastly, for someone who’s a stickler for the rules, you sure do get creative when it comes to following recipes.”
Lucifer folded his arms and glared down at you.
During dinner, Lucifer announced that the kitchen was off-limits to the entire household after dinner until breakfast the next day. Any one caught meandering in the kitchen’s vicinity was going to be thoroughly punished.
Everyone expected Beel to reject, however, it seemed like he was easily bribed with a dozen boxes of these devilishly delicious cheesecakes from this specific cake shop that only made limited quantities of their famous goodies. Beel was never lucky in buying them as they seem to be sold out even before the stores opened .
This, of course, piqued everyone’s curiosity.
Why would Lucifer go through such lengths of secrecy?
Of course, I was roped into Mammon and Levi’s curiosity as they attempted to sneak in the kitchen, blissfully unaware of the consequences. Naturally, we were caught.
Levi managed to slip away whilst Mammon and I were unlucky. Before Lucifer could enact any punishment, Mammon graciously threw me under the bus by claiming that it was all my idea to spy on him.
I thought Lucifer was above Mammon’s horse shit, but that demon actually believed Mammon. He spared the moron on the condition that he remains in his room for the remainder of the evening or else his beloved Goldie would be thrown into the ether.
“I still don’t think it’s enough,” he grumbled.
You squeezed the top bridge of your nose, a clear indication that your brain was running on fumes due to a certain demon’s stubbornness. You cast a tired but serious gaze at him with your hands in the work bench.
“Lucifer, do you want my help or not?” You sighed with exasperation.
The proud demon’s tight-lipped silence was all the response you needed to proceed. You quietly reached for the plastic mixing bowl and bag of flour. Unsatisfied by the measuring cup situation earlier, you asked if they had something akin to a digital weighing scale.
“What’s wrong with measuring cups?”
“It’s not really a big deal for others, but, for me, measuring cups tend to be unreliable. Weighing scales is the only way to avoid any discrepancy in cooking, have consistent results, and yields more product. Not to mention less dishes to wash and less messes to clean up.”
While you were busy prattling off like some TV chef personality, Lucifer regarded you with the same level of respect as he does when observing Barbatos skillfully operating the kitchen. However, you noticed his eyes were not the same eyes of respect he had for the butler. They looked warm, focused, and, dare I say, gentle. The glare was starting to make you uncomfortable.
“What?”
Finally realizing he was glaring, a flash of pink colored Lucifer’s cheeks as he looked away. “It’s nothing.”
Like hell it was nothing.
Lucifer was, after all, the Avatar of Pride and while the whole affair has left his pride swelling with the darkest of bruises, and my mere presence and earlier schoolteacher scolding was just adding salt to his wounds.
Not wanting to be distracted, you pressed on with your task at hand, quietly referring to the cookbook set on the book stand.
You could have easily done this by yourself, but you were in the Devildom after all, so majority of the ingredients were unfamiliar to you. You often asked Lucifer what the ingredient in question was which he gladly helped in identifying. His careful and gentle nature in explaining was something you weren’t accustomed to. You did your best to execute the recipe with little to no distraction.
However, that peace was disrupted as you took a cup of brown sugar.
“What are you doing?” Lucifer question Ed with narrowed eyes.
“Caramelizing some brown sugar?” you replied innocently, hoping he wouldn’t notice your slight departure in the recipe. He noticed.
“Nowhere in the recipe does it say that.”
“Yes, but if you look at the foot note, the author suggests that adding a texture similar to creme brulee would elevate the dish more.”
It was now his turn to have an incredulous look on his face.
“Now look who’s being a little creative.” Lucifer shook his head. “But that’s what you always do. Disobedience at every turn.”
You noticed the venom in his tone so you put down the saucepan with the brown sugar. You promptly unfastened your apron, but your weakened fingers and the tight knot just became an awkward shuffle for you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucifer cocked an eyebrow.
“I did not sign up for this,” you half-yelled as you struggled with the knot some more.
“MC, what are doing?” His tone was wrought with both shock and impatience.
“No, what are you doing, Lucifer?” You spit back.
Lucifer was taken aback by your tone, and you decided to take this chance.
“I don’t know why your even doing this! What even prompted you to do such an uncharacteristic task that you obviously can’t handle?”
“Excuse me—”
“No! No, Lucifer, no!” You cut him off, the frustrations grew worse with the apron’s unrelenting knot. “It’s your fucking pride, isn’t it, Mr. Avatar of Pride?”
“Is it pride if you want to make Lord Diavolo—”
“Oh my god!” You threw your hands up in the air and back at your waist .
“Don’t involve God in—”
“Diavolo this, Diavolo that, your nose is so far up his ass that I wouldn’t be surprised if your wings were shit brown instead of the beautiful black—”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Lucifer bellowed, his horns and spread-wings hovered over you ominously, curtaining any light around you.
However, that only lasted a moment as he saw terror in your eyes. Lucifer promptly veiled his demon form and regained his composure.
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
It was not the demon form that frightened you. If anything, it was the fire in his eyes that scared you, bringing a lone tear to your eye.
“I apologize—”
Lucifer leaned forward, but you froze. He paused for a moment, silently asking for permission to touch your delicate face. Your stunned silenced allowed him to take a a gloved hand off and wipe that one tear away.
The warmth radiating from his palm made you involuntarily lay on it, producing fresh tears.
“I’m truly sorry.”
His brows knitted in sorrow. He slowly circled his hands behind you, easily unknotting the apron in the opposite direction you were pulling, easily freeing you. He puts the fabric aside as he enveloped you in a sincere, warm, and slightly dizzying hug. His ungloved hand rested on your neck and the gloved one was holding you in the small of your back.
“MC,” he whispered your name softly. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to anger or frighten you. You’re too important to me.”
Sincere apologies always fixed the situation, however, Lucifer’s apology only made you sick to the stomach.
“Please don’t be upset with me,” he continued. His grip tightened on you and you could feel the his heart nearly jumping out of his ribs.
“You were right, MC, I can’t let go—”
“Lucifer, stop.”
You pushed yourself off him so that you could reach up and cup his beautiful face in your small hands. “I’m sorry too.”
“MC…”
“I didn’t mean those things. I was just upset that you would put so much attention on a person who doesn’t love you as much as—”
“You do?”
You mentally slapped yourself for spilling your own beans. The hellcat was already out of the sack, so you doubled down and, on your tippy toes, reached for a kiss.
You honestly expected Lucifer to taste like old paper and bitter tea, but his lips had a slight salty but minty taste. His mouth, however, was like expensive chocolate with a rich sweetness melting on your tongue.
You couldn’t imagine being able to reach his impressive height, but the fact that Lucifer bent over to let you reach him was all the confirmation you needed.
After what seemed like an eternity, he broke the kiss, planting a softer one on your forehead, then back on your lips.
“Lucifer…” was all you could say after the heady dose of kisses.
“I’ve never… I’ve never imagined that someone could stir up these emotions in me.”
You lingered in your bubble for a moment, the heavy tension dissipating in seconds. Fully aware of the growing arousal soaking in the air, you gently pushed him away.
“We should, uh, get back to the, um, cookies.”
Cookies weren’t exactly in his mind as you felt the bulge in his slacks poking your hip.
Before you could protest, he gently lifted you off the floor and your legs involuntarily circled his hips. A soft moan escaped your lips when your sensitive crotch made contact with his bulge threatening to destroy any fabric between you.
Lucifer was quick to cover your mouth with his, sucking every last ounce of your pleasured moans. He placed you on top the the work bench, obviously not caring in knocking over the ingredients and making fast work if your button-up shirt and pants while digging his hungry mouth on your collar bone and neck.
“Luci, wait, someone will see me—’
“Nonsense.” Lucifer lifted your chin gently to plant another soft kiss. “I would never let anyone witness how beautiful and precious you are right now.”
My cheeks flushed the brightest red. His compliment would have been more convincing if we weren’t in this very precarious situation.
“Are my black wings really beautiful?” Lucifer asked confidently, but his question laced with doubt.
“They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”
The memory of his deep kisses was not enough to distract the buzzing device in my hands. Diavolo had sent a string of texts.
Diavolo: …I figured that as long as he made them, I had a right to try them, didn’t I?
Diavolo: When I heard that Lucifer had tried this hand at one of my favorite treats, well…
Diavolo: At first Lucifer was reluctant to let me, but finally he gave in.
Diavolo: He let me have one bite…
Your stomach turned inside out. The steamy feelings of pleasure in your head has transformed into panic, fantasizing on how the prince of hell would utterly annihilated a lowly human for feeding him such garbage.
You: Are you okay?
Diavolo: I wouldn’t say I’m okay… 
Diavolo: In any event, MC, do me a favor, and never let Lucifer make this again.
Diavolo: Please, I beg you.
“What is he begging for?“ 
You nearly dropped your the device as a deep voice echoed from behind you. You manage to shut off the device before turning around.
“Lucifer!”
The fallen angel’s tousled wet hair slowly dripped water onto to his bare chest, forming seductive rivulets leading to his lower half.
“Are you hiding something, MC?” He folded his arms with eyes narrowed at you.
“I’m not sure what you’re t—”
When your gaze looked at his exposed body, fresh from the shower, you suddenly realize you were naked and, therefore, turned around and covered yourself.
“Can we talk about this lat—EEEEIP!”
Your arms covering your chest was pulled aside as he reached from behind you, cupping each soft bread in his hand. You could also feel a warm semi-hard mass lingering between your ass cheeks.
“Have we still not learned our lesson?” Lucifer whispered hotly in your ear, distracting you further. “Were you genetically designed to be this disobedient?”
“Luci, it’s… It’s not… It’s not what— ah!”
Your lack of coherent response prompt a firm nibble at the base of your neck. His hand wandered from your chest, leaving a hot trail on your ribs, stomach, and abdomen.
“It’s not what?”
“It’s not what you think!” You managed to blurted out before the teasing began.
Lucifer roughly, but gently, pushed you on the bed, crashing face-first into your pillows that smelled of this morning’s sweaty wake up call. Lucifer gently rubbed your now wet entrance, stimulating it further with the tip of his throbbing member.
“Being the Avatar of Pride doesn’t mean I’m not prone to jealousy, MC.” Lucifer announced as he teased you some more.
In essence, this text from Diavolo was a not really a big deal, but the jealousy play was massively turning you both on.
“I’ll take this secret to my grave.” You breathed hotly, anticipating Lucifer’s attack.
A playful smirk crossed his lips. “Very well then.”
end.
52 notes · View notes
alphabees-writes · 4 years
Text
Glee - S1 E1 (Pilot)
Is it a smart idea to rewatch glee again? No.
Am I going to do it anyway? You bet your sweet bippy I am!
Am I going to liveblog my garbage monkey brain thoughts along the way even though nobody asked for it? Hell yeah.
Here goes!
Wow. The first frame of this entire show is literally of a woman who looks like she’s about 10 years above the natural lifespan of a Cheerio. Then again, I’m sure Sue’s not above holding back her best recruits for multiple years because Ohio high schools are apparently just Like That™
I also never notice this opening song was a remix of Keep Me Hangin On, wow. That’s actually kind of interesting foreshadowing of sorts, like, kind of smart. I’m glad I’m watching the part of Glee that was kind of smart.
This scene also doesn’t feature any of the Unholy Trinity as far as I can see. Are they a JV squad? Am I putting too much thought into this?
Sign #1 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Really, my guy? Driving around with your muffler dragging on the ground so bad it’s making sparks? That’s not very Road Safety of you. Fuck off. 
Sign #2 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Wow, there’s going to be a lot of these, huh? Anyway, anybody with working eyes would clearly see how scared Kurt is right now. “Making some new friends Kurt?” Fuck off. 
KURT. FIRST SIGHTING OF THE BOY. What a delight. But also, not a delight, because he’s being bullied and he deserves better. Look at his outfit. Iconic from day fucking one. 
Finn, you’re a himbo. What’re you doing with these assholes?
Puck’s first line in the whole series is “It’s hammer time!” What a fucking dork? Who made this boy popular. 
DO MORE THAN TAKE HIS COAT, FINN. LET HIM GOOOOO!!!
I paused while they were tossing Kurt in the dumpster and, wow, got the most hilarious frame where the guy who isn’t Puck is getting a meticulously polished boot to the face. Netflix let me take screenshots, you coward.
The first shot of Quinn... My wlw bones are shaking.
Why would they use that photo for Lillian Adler...? WHO WAS BORN IN 1937, MIGHT I ADD. THAT’S NOT A REAL YEAR. 
It’s weird to see Mr Schue actually speaking competent Spanish. Why did they veto that later? The ONE likeable thing about him was his competence as a school teacher, and they really threw it out the window huh?
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE MEMBERS OF SANDY RYERSON’S GLEE CLUB??? This kid seems to really like singing. Also, welcome to the beginning of Ryerson being annoying as all hell.
Oh my gosh, the background choir stuff. This show really had style back in the day!!!
R A C H E L B E R R Y Y O U R M A K E U P ! ! !
Ken Tanaka walked so incels could run.
Jane Lynch you beauty. You absolutely impeccable beauty. 
“Since when are cheerleaders performers?” Uh... Emma...? I get that Sue’s going ham on her budget but, like, be nice to the students? They perform their butts off!
Sue really just BRAGGED about having an iPhone. I was 9 when this came out. Why do I feel old...
Sign #3 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: He hears his coworker, presumably of several years, just got fired and doesn’t even ask why. He just jumps on the glee club like a frog on hot asphalt. 
He really wants to Make The Glee Club Great Again, huh? 
MySpace was really a thing, huh? And why does this grown-ass male teacher know so much about the students having them?
I know nothing about actual American schools, but I do know that they sure as shit don’t work like this. Why does a club have to win EVERY competition to be considered an asset?
Mr Shoe really lying awake at night half-naked next to his wife thinking about the glee club already? Yeah sounds about right. Also, of course you’d think up Nude Erections for a name, you asshole. Put some clothes on.
R E S P E C T MERCEDES YES!!!
Brad the piano player was really here from day ONE... Icon.
Cellophane, Mr Cellophane... Yes Kurt bby you killed it. 
Chris Colfer looks so YOUNG here!!! 
The hair fix... I C O N I C !
Tina really wrote her stutter down, huh? And nobody ever saw through it? Amazing. 
The goth Tina look, too... Perfect... Never change...
Say what you want about Rachel Berry being generally insufferable, but I really fucking feel it when she sings On My Own. The monologue kind of kills The Drama of it, but they really solidly established her character by layering them. She really is a gold star right now.
The first-ever on-screen slushie!
The way she walks down that hall. My God you can just see how terrible she is to be around.
Never forget Rachel staring at photos of her with two men who turned out to not be her dads. Who are they? What are their stories? We’ll never know.
God, I love this stupid scene of Quinn, Santana, and a bunch of Cheerios cartoonishly typing hate comments on Rachel’s MySpace video and laughing like knock-off Disney villains. 
I like watching season 1 Artie because season 1 Artie was a good character. Mostly. And he KILLED Sit Down, You’re Rocking The Boat. Rachel wasn’t asking for a male lead who could keep up with her vocally, she was being straight up ableist and that’s a fact. I love Cory, but Kevin McHale was always a better singer.
Mercedes picking up and spinning Rachel for this little routine is something I never really appreciated before, it’s cute even though they don’t like each other yet!
I really don’t get why Rachel says they suck. Yeah, sure, she’s gunning for a solo, but the vocals were solid there. The choreo was just a little janky, possibly because it’s their first EVER rehearsal?
“There is NOTHING ironic about show choir!” Incredible.
How long did it take Mr Shoe to find Rachel out on the bleachers? Did he search the whole school first?
ARTIE! CAN! KEEP! UP! WITH! YOU! VOCALLY!
I never understood Rachel quitting so soon. How long was she in the old glee club for? Surely they were never popular either?
Ah, the first “My hands are tied” for the series. Mr Figgins is a garbage principal. 
Not going to advise the principal against referring to Artie as a cripple, William Shoestir? Alright. 
How did the Schuester marriage last as long as it has? Do Will and Terri’s insufferable personalities just cancel one another out?
Sandy Ryerson really just openly brags about cheating the system for medical marijuana and dealing it? 
Matt Morrison 100% has lip fillers. Nobody’s smile curls like that naturally.
“Terri and I are trying to get pregnant” What a weird way to phrase it. What is it, a race? Who’s going to get knocked up first!
A FIFTH OF BEETHOVEN, HOW I’VE MISSED YOU... The sound design of this show at this point is just... *Chef hand kiss*
“What you’re doing right now is called blurring the lines” Oh just wait until season 4, Sue... Just you wait.
WHY is Mr Schuester so ridiculously sweaty? I didn’t need to think about that?
EVERYONE on the football team is 30.
William Schuester you can’t just watCH TEENAGE STUDENTS SING IN THE SHOWER YOU ARE A TEACHER WHERE DID YOU GET YOUR LICENSE?! 
Hearing Cory sing this always makes me emotional. What a talent!
Sign #4 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: I don’t think I need to say why using the weed to blackmail Finn is a shitty thing to do, do I?
“I’ll pee in a cup! ...I’ll pee...” I love Cory’s delivery. 
PRIORITY #1: HELP THE KIDS Oh season 1... I love you so.
Mr Schue you WISH you were anything like Finn Hudson. You never will be.
Ah... Finn’s first monologue. He’s such a sweetheart. AND SO IS CAROLE. Carole is a queen I will stan forever. YOU THROW THAT MILK BB!!!
All Finn wants to do is make his mom proud. What a sweetheart. Mr Schue you do NOT deserve him.
These POV shots really enhance things, why the fuck did they stop using them?
Subtly having Kurt look at Finn in the same shot as Rachel was a nice touch indeed!
RACHEL WAS REALLY DOWN WITH ROLLING ARTIE RIGHT OFF THE STAGE HUH?
Terri’s a straight up hoarder, huh? Like a raccoon but instead of collecting edible garbage, it’s monogrammed garbage.
Surely you can’t just... BECOME an accountant, right? You need some serious qualifications for that right?
Also say what you want about how insufferable Terri is but her actress is ridiculously talented and absolutely steals every scene she’s in.
Now the background choir is doing Soul Bossa Nova and I am L I V I N G why didn’t they keep that motif!!! It was so ICONIC!
I don’t need my prostate removed. RIP Carole Hudson but I’m different :/
NO MEANS NO, KEN! TAKE THE L AND MOVE ON! Way to take out the fact that a girl won’t date you on everybody else around you! Toxic bastard. The absolute stench of melodrama on this bastard is noxious.
I was going to ask why Rachel didn’t know about Finn and Quinn if they’d already been together for 4 months, but then I remembered gossiping requires friends...
“Terri rides me. Hard. And I’ve always appreciated it!” Why don’t we talk about how this line sounds more. Why doesn’t Emma bat an eye at it oh my god
HERE COMES VOCAL ADRENALINE!!! And Jesse St. James is nowhere to be seen. How convenient. Also, they’re all 30. I’m sensing a pattern.
Sorry VA, all songs popularised my Amy Winehouse legally belong to Santana Lopez
Puck, if you were stupid enough to fall for the prostate excuse, that’s on you. Or maybe it’s on the education system...
You can do better that Mr Schue, kids. Don’t mourn him.
Ok, what the fuck is this scene where he’s filling out the job app to become an accountant? There’s a dude in the row in front off him just throwing crisps around? What is this place?? Why are you here sir??? 
“Accounting is sexy” shut up you horrible married man
The Cheerios sure did have straight ponytails for like, one episode, huh?
Finn is such a good boy. He doesn’t know it yet, but he is, and saving Artie from that portapotty is his first step to figuring it out.
This shot of Finn just wheeling Artie out of there... Ugh. My HEART.
KURT WHAT ARE THOSE LAYERS? SWEATER SHIRT SWEATER? HELLO???
Pee balloons. Nailing the lawn furniture to the roof. Finn, you’re better than that!!! Stop your dudebros. 
They really had Artie be a guitar player, and a pretty good one at that, but they never mentioned it again? Artie had such potential SMH. (Also, Netflix subtitles are telling me it’s Arty, but I categorically refuse to spell it that way.)
Whyyyyy didn’t he go to KURT for the costumes as well? Look at his outfit, Finn. He clearly wants in on that job. 
Will Schuester really is just desperately clinging to his glory days in high school. I’d feel bad for him if he wasn’t such a creep about it. 
Emma, meaningfully: Do you know who that is? That’s you, Will... [FRANTIC DISCO MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND]
I find it hilarious how the audio of Don’t Stop Believin’ just DOES NOT match the characters except for the solos... Also wow, autotune city. Am I awful for genuinely not liking this cover? 
I like watching them perform it though. Kurt’s adorable little shimmy... Rachel and Tina smiling at each other like that... Everybody having a blast... I’m here for it
LOOK AT MY BABIES TILTING THOSE MIC STANDS...
Ok the way Rachel and Finn look at each other here is making me FEEL
I know Puck’s about to join anyway but WHY is he there watching... Just to have a mysterious bad boy moment? Lol you dramatic bastard
Please let them win nationals without you, Will.
So, yeah! There’s that! Those are my thoughts and feelings, basic though they may be. Episode one is fantastic, the kids are fantastic, and William Schuester can suck a toe. 
13 notes · View notes
artificialqueens · 5 years
Text
You won a seven nights stay in Paris, ch 2 (Branjie) - Evelyn Bubbles
Ehy there! It’s your girl Ev back on the beat, so happy for all the love on the first chapter, this is a slow burn so stay tuned you won’t regret it. I want to gradually build some tension and in this chapter we’ll see some. Enjoy! Also just wanted to add that this fanfiction doesn’t take in consideration canon, so take this as they never had a thing on the show and they’re falling in love just now.
Waking up alone in Paris is one thing, waking up besides a handsome man in a beautiful bed in an even more beautiful apartment in the best part of the city is another. Brooke yawned, lazily turning off the alarm set for 8 am, and gradually lifted Vanessa’s arm from her waist. “Please mom, five more minutes…”. “I’m not your mom, Vanjielina… and you’re heavy”, Brooke giggled sitting on the bed and gently running her fingers through her friend’s messy hair. She wasn’t much of a touchy-feely type, except for her cats, which she loved to cuddle with, but Vanessa had that warm and welcoming aura to her, she couldn’t help but relax and open up. The day before they had just walked to Notre Dame (a quite long walk actually), got an ice cream, took some nice pictures on one of the bridges, hanging out like life long friends. Then, they had come back to their apartment, quite wasted from the crazy jet lag, and they had fallen asleep almost immediately; Vanessa still had her t-shirt on. Brooke thanked her for forgetting to take that off: she didn’t know what she would’ve done seeing her toned chest naked, with that amber skin exposed and flushed. Brooke went to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of comfy jeans and a t-shirt, and took a nice shower, casually leaving the door open. She didn’t know what she meant with that: was it an invitation? Was it just because they were close enough at that point? They had in fact spent so many weeks shoulder to shoulder, but the atmosphere during Drag Race filming was radically different from the relaxing vacation they were having. That many men all together, cut off from the rest of the world, it was hard to resist. It was then when Brooke had started to look at Vanessa differently. But when they came home she thought that it had been just a consequence of the situation, a casualty. Instead, as the words of the iconic song said, the cause had been removed… but the symptom stayed. She immediately switched the water temperature from hot to cold. She needed it.
////
“Where we going today sis?”, Vanessa asked as soon as they stepped out of the house. “The Musée d’Orsay. There are a lot of beautiful sculptures and paintings there, even some Van Goghs. I planned this trip hoping to go with my best friend, and he’s kinda into arts, so I hope you don’t get too bored”, Brooke said slightly worried. Classic Canadian courtesy. Vanessa smiled and patted her arm: “Don’t worry sis it’s all good. I love arts. Plus, you could explain some shit to me. You’re giving me this cultured vibe”. “I’m really not, but thank you. In the museums I usually try to listen to a guide who’s telling stuff to a group of tourists, and I grab some info from them. We could do the same thing”. “Yeah, I love mooching culture. Agreed. Let’s go”. “I wouldn’t call it mooching”. “How would you call it”. “Oh, we’re just there… casually listening”. “Why don’t you get an audio guide then”. Brooke smirked: “I’d rather listen to your weird comments about the paitings and sculptures. You can be really funny Vanj". “Maybe that’s the best compliment you’ve ever given me. But how can I blame y'all, it’s true”. “Don’t flatter yourself too much. Now let’s get on this subway, it’s damn late”.
////
Vanessa was completely silent, staring at one of the biggest paintings in the whole museum, “L'école de Platon”. She bit her lip and got closer to the painting. Brooke found her like that, eyes scanning every single inch of the painting with an inquisitive stare. “Hey Vanjielina”, she asked, “What are you looking at?”. “This painting. I know no French but apparently it’s like a lesson or something. Plato is teaching. Beautiful, isn’t it”. Brooke approached her to look at the painting, but Vanessa grabbed her by the arm and brought them a few feet back. “Here. You have to watch it from afar first, and then you can get closer. Just like with another person”, she said, unusually soft. Then, she went back to her previous spot, standing perfectly still, captivated. So, Brooke let her eyes admire the stunning painting from the perspective Vanessa had chose for her: the scene depicted was a garden in Ancient Greece, where many beautiful young men, barely clothed, were listening to the philosopher talk. Brooke got one step closer, and as she walked towards the painting she started noticing more and more details: the veins of the leaves, the single strands of hair, the lights and shadows of the boys’ muscles. Vanessa became part of the painting herself: the curve of her back, her hand on her hip, the tight fabric of the jeans agains her legs, her short, dark hair hidden under her hat, they all seemed to fuse with the painting, as if she was listening to Plato as well, covered in only a piece of pastel fabric, with laurel leaves on her head. Brooke walked right besides her, and stood still as she examined the lines of her nose, lips and chin from just a few inches away. “Have you noticed?”. “What?”, Brooke asked. “All the details. Amazing”. Vanessa had never sounded more serious. Brooke nodded: “Were they all this gay in Ancient Greece?”, she asked jokingly, referring to the boys’ naked bodies all so close to each other. Vanessa chuckled: “If so, gimme a damn time machine girl because this looks like literal heaven. I mean, look at their abs and thighs. Fuck. Perfection. Look, they even have a goddamn white peacock there. It can’t get any gayer than this”. “Trust me, we can find a gayer painting”. Vanessa smirked: “Wanna bet?”. They shook hands: “Bet”.
////
Vanessa and Brooke spent two hours total, almost running all around the Musee D'Orsay, trying to find a gayer painting, failing miserably. They found each other again in front of which was probably the biggest work of art in the whole museum, called “Les Romains de la Décadence”, a scene of daily life in the Roman era, at the baths. “Found anything?”. “Nope”, Vanessa shook her head. “Well, that ecol of something something was pretty gay. I doubt we’ll find anything better in the whole damn vacation”. “So you give up, mh”. “I’m not giving up, I’m just saying it’s fucking hard. And also I’m hungry, I wanna eat. Let’s get out of here”. “Agreed”. They turnt around, going towards the entrance, when Vanessa stopped suddenly and pointed at the big painting. “Wait, Brooke, sis!”, she laughed, “This lady looks like you in drag”. Brooke followed Vanessa’s finger as she was guided to a beautiful woman wrapped in white clothes, laying in the centre of the painting. She looked slightly bored, but beautiful indeed, and she has a long nose and big lips. “She only kinda looks like me”, Brooke said, “But thanks, it means you find me as beautiful as a work of art”. Vanessa’s big brown eyes were all over her. Then, she said simply: “Yes”.
////
They had lunch at a local café, sitting alone at a table eating pan au chocolat, a classical french sweet with bread and dark chocolate, and got coffees. T hey weren’t in the mood for an actual lunch, they would’ve had plenty of occasions for that in the next few days. “It’s so fucking good”, Vanessa said biting into her pan au chocolat. “I know right? We don’t have this in Canada. Or at least not this good”. “I’m a slut for good chocolate”. “You’re a slut in general”. “Excuse me, I’m a respectable young lady!”. Brooke laughed and took a sip of her coffee. “What’s up next then?”, Vanessa asked after a couple of seconds of silence. Brooke looked at her notes app: “Mont Martre tonight, and I’ve also found the best crepes place in all Paris at the bottom of the hill. You like cheese, right?”. “Bitch have you seen me? I ain’t got this thick eating fruits and shits. I love cheese”. Brooke chuckled: “Happy to hear that, because they do excellent cheese crepes. And also sweet ones, like with nuts and strawberries and whatever you want. It should be super good”. Vanessa smiled widely: “You got me excited now, fuck! You’ve really planned this mh?”. “Yeah I did, even though it’s a plan shaped around Steve and me, so like… do you wanna go to the Louvre some time?”. “That’s where the Mona Lisa is, right? Of course I wanna go, I wanna see what’s the buzz all about. Like, is she really that special? Miss Thing thinks she’s a legend but they haven’t seen my portrait yet”. “Do you have a portrait?”. Vanessa hesitated for a second: “Well, no, I don’t, but I’ll have one”. “Where?”. “In the painter place. Isn’t it in Mont Martre?”. Brooke smiled, suprised: “Oh, so you know about it”. “I do know shit bitch! I’m very eloquent”, says Vanessa taking another sip. They didn’t get up until the sun had started setting in the beautiful Parisian sky.
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joanelizebeth · 4 years
Text
dreamers: don’t die
I know you think none of this matters anymore. You don’t even care so much to abide by sentence structure. The newest version of the new you could give two shits about what the Oxford comma even is. You don’t write to attain a grade anymore. You don’t write to get into college anymore. You write because……...
Dot. Dot. Dot ...still thinking, uploading, pending, synching. The world you once believed in, the audience still waiting on the last time you gave serious, genuine, interested, effort into your skill...
But something always causes the pen to stop writing before it actually intended on stopping. Suddenly the fingers stop typing at the keyboard...
You look up to kiss him goodnight (you realize he’s filling up his water bottle to head to bed), & so you shrug silently to yourself, “oh, this isn’t anything big I’m working on anyway right now, I can pause this and put it away.” NBD! Easy! 
Dot. Dot. Dot. 
The laptop closes and we don’t even recognize the severity of the moment. Such a subtle, little... moment, right?
My dad, born in 1953, believed in a lifelong dream of getting a Corvette. He got it when I was like 5. I’d sit in the back and stare up at the Wisconsin stars and think “I’m gonna chase my dreams like this one day, and never stop driving.” I’m 24, he hasn’t driven it regularly since I was 9. 
One day that garage door closed for the last time that he’d ever take that red corvette out, before giving up on remembering why he’d made it such a life goal in the first place...
And suddenly years and years later, so many pauses, so many put away ideas, brainstorming lists, and even frickin potential tweets and instagram captions fill up nothing but receipt space in your Notes app (a habit kept like my mom’s iconic giant black purse, all too familiar: like a landfill of thin crumpled papers, dollars, and big break ideas, always meant to go somewhere someday, right?).
Ideas are only dangerous if you feed them. House them. Watch them age, and help them develop into actions. As an artist, but really as an overthinker; it’s a game within your own creative intellect to balance the test of modern revolutions and trends & the analytical application of methods classically proven to work. We must not think we have to choose one or the other, but learn how to derive new opinions, ideas, and experiments by utilizing both thought-habits to new, peaceful third productive outcome to remain open minded to perspectives of people with much different life experiences and lives, different reality lenses than our own. 
Three dots that wait to continue the conversation, as eager as a new college grad awaits the dialog after sending a cover letter. The art of a cover letter? Is that really an art? I find well crafted writing with any purpose other than for the passion that letters themselves inspired one to pursue opportunity, to be a mockery of language itself. Do not exploit my talent, do not disrespect my education, for you have no idea what I’ve learned behind the closed doors of my personal life and interests, of things beyond what the ACT scans for. I might have read AP Chemistry in 5th grade, I might have read my father’s divorce journal during the military, you have no academic acclaim in my eye to judge the motivation behind why I type what I type. What I say and why I say so is something I’m still discovering myself, but I question the validity of my talent, of my career, every day that I realize I don’t have a stupid Bachelor’s Degree Paper saying that I majored in English and also sucked up to the professor’s particular philosophy. I’ve read more books in my lifetime than days I’ve spent in school. I’m not lying. I’m 24, one year out of college, one year a resident in the city of Angels: dying. Dying of Apathy. The same criminal that tried to take me when I tasted a life of comfort.
You need more than ambition now. Now, more than ever, you need to focus. To stop picking up your phone to see if he viewed your story, even if you’re alone in a foreign world and don’t know a single soul who understands your context. You can’t drop the mask now and visit Aunt Linda after church at Starbucks. You can’t force smiles anymore to strangers, trying to convince other people why you moved here with a dream. But why not? You can’t force strangers, you can’t force friends, you can’t force family to believe in you if you’ve chosen to stop believing in yourself. So cheesy, those words must have come from someone from Wisconsin. Regardless, reality.
The months fly by like EXPO tickets at a busy restaurant, once they’re gone they’re forgotten. 
So many months, so many days, so many interactions with strangers on the street. Things we don’t think about. It’s been a year, what the fuck have I accomplished? I haven’t even written a Goddamn thing on a computer since I worked at ESPN. When my voice felt validated. I could have stayed. How many nights do I wake up jerking, imagining the best case scenario of an unrealistic positive scenario of the other side of the crossroads we faced when we were only a little bit younger? But I chose to move from Wisconsin to California. I believed in myself when I bought that flight, when I wobbly-handed my debit card to the TJ Maxx cashier for that suitcase, the one suitcase I moved here with. Flyin’ solo sounds more glamorous in quote form. It was really lonely. But day by day things can really, really; really improve. 
Those restaurant tickets are forgotten. We take shots at the end of the night with both BOH and FOH together, completely forgetting about that side of chipotle ranch for that lemon lady that was never ran. We move on in life and don’t care about the little details that occur around us as we take in the information overload called being alive. 
But among those tickets, among those many little random tickets, big, small, we know the clock out feeling still leaves us smiling, wondering why even if work was hectic, it was worth it. It was and is always worth coming back again, even when we have slow nights. Just kinda like how, even if we haven’t gotten verified on Instagram or Twitter, we still kinda like life in LA.
Tickets fly by like days, weeks, months, even years lived in Los Angeles, and I don’t fast forward through those moments as I previously had. I used to guilt trip myself for not being “critically acclaimed” whatever the fuck that means, yet if I were to forever focus on that rubric as the sole way to define my sense of self, I’d land up where my brain of creative fire fears most: apathy. Not caring. Not having emotion. Make excuses to replace the thoughts of guilt, the thoughts that comfort me into affirmation that my negligence, my lack of work ethic, my dwindling inspiration that was once the sturdy backbone I had as my secret weapon during the fight.
Those tickets don’t matter. A side of ketchup you forgot to run a few days ago that you just remembered doesn’t matter. But the concept of tickets not mattering ever is just as common and dangerous a mistake to make as getting caught up in labels, titles, and details. 
The days I’ve been in Los Angeles, I haven’t acted in feature films, modeled free outfits on Melrose, made out with Halsey backstage, or had some magical unrealistic moment where someone wants to read my poetry or script ideas drunkenly on the patio at Berkshire House. At the end of the shift, the restaurant tickets don’t matter, right? Or do they?
At the end of the day, the time I spent in LA without getting a self affirming job doesn’t matter, right? All this time I have spent living in LA with strangers and paying rent that seems so expensive, is it a waste of my life? These days in LA that pass by without me making my “big break” are a fucking waste of time, right? Or are they? 
But,
Did you learn Street names? Freeway names? Did coffee shop faces begin to become recognizable by name? What about your favorite parking spot at work? What about when the Uber app recognizes your patterns and little favorite spots? Do you have a coworker you vent to about all the BS banter from certain regular customers? What about the checkout lady at the grocery store where you get your favorite coffee creamer? Has the weight of meaning of seeing a familiar friends’ handwriting on a postcard carried its weight a little differently? All these little things, all those little tickets at work, never seem to matter in the moment, but at the end of the day, at the end of our shift: they’re what makes us feel at home. Habits are what makes the difference between what feels like a house and what feels like a home. 
You’ve made what was just a house, now a home. Through habit. Through noticing.
Although Apathy is a real phase we all sometimes experience in life due to comfort and lack of change, apathy doesn’t have to corner us into self imposing a giant change upon our lives, forcing us to lose something we love. We can fight these fits of apathy, of self doubt, of questioning everything, by …
Dot Dot Dot...
Does anyone have an answer?
My answer to Apathy, to a dead soul, to feelings of  “why hasn't anyone noticed what I’m capable of yet?” is that the answer never mattered to a dumb self conceited question to begin with. 
Remember those tickets. Remember those days. Remember those that laughed at your jokes, asked to take pictures with you, invited you to parties, or smiled at you with a sense of familiar relief when you punched into work. People have been noticing you. Have you been noticing them?
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saviormysticmeme · 7 years
Note
Well, a creppy boy started talking to me on the Tumblr chat saying weird shit and asked me to be his valentine out of the blue, so.. Yeah can I request RFA+V+Saeran reacting to that? A creep talking to MC and saying creppy stuff lol. Love ur blog 💕
Is he still bothering you? If he is PM me and his ass is grassOr if you’re just in need of a fake girlfriend/boyfriend/SO also say the word I’m there y’all don’t even know how good I look in drag
Forreal tho, if someone online is ever making you feel uncomfortable don’t be afraid to get assertive or reach out for help.
Anyways
 RFA+V+Saeran react to a Creep creepin on MC
Yoosung
Yandere Yoosung: ACTIVATED i imagine a magical girl animation sequence whenever I say that
You had shown him the messages immediately because you two were playing games on an online server together when you got random, creepy PMs from GameFreak90
‘hey there, I see you’re a high level. U must be pretty good with your hands
want 2 play a game together sometime? it doesn’t have to be online ;)
its almost valentines day you know. we can hang out. ‘
You were so uncomfortable, and it went from uncomfortable to freaked out when you asked GameFreak90 to stop messaging you and he kept going, starting to talk about all the things he’d like to do to you
Yoosung searched the guys name immediately and pulled up his profile
His hands never moved so fast
‘Hey. Quit messaging MC28. She’s a good friend of mine and you’re freaking her out. -ShootingStar’
‘fuck off’
Yoosung was not having it. He didn’t have Seven’s hacking skills, or Jumins money, or Jaehee’s wit or anything the others had
But what he did have was his games
He pulled up TeamSpeak for his LOLOL guild immediately
“Guys, I need backup for an emergency raid”
It was over in minutes
Yoosung’s guild had raided and completely emptied GameFreak90′s base
Yoosung got a string of messages immediately after
hey man what the fuck
dude give me my shit back
fine im sorry im sorry give me my shit please
dude please
Yoosung just turned his mic on and with one last request of his guild “Hey, can everyone here flag this guy for inappropriate behavior”
In about 10 mins Yoosung went to pull up GameFreak90′s profile
It had been deleted
Yoosung had the smuggest of smirks on his face
Until
“My hero” You giggled and kissed him on the cheek
He went from war hero Shooting Star to blushing, stuttering, Yoosung real quick
Jaehee
It was a slow day in the coffee shop so you were just sitting at a table playing on your phone and sipping coffee
Ding.
Huh? New message.
Ding ding ding
You had a bad feeling before even opening your Fumblr app 
When you did open the little social media site, you were met with a bunch of unwelcomed advances from some strange follower
Hey valentines is coming up and im lonely
r u lonely to?
how about u be my valentine and we can go out??
You grimaced and replied with a curt “I’m sorry but no thanks”
come on babe
dont b like that
we can have fun
Jaehee had noticed to look on your face and immediately popped to your side
“Mc is everything alright?
“Yeah..I’m just getting creepy messages from some guy on Fumblr.” You handed her the phone so she could read them and her nose crinkled in distaste almost instantly
“Well your first problem is you apologized.” 
“Huh?”
Jaehee started tapping away as she spoke “Don’t apologize for not being interested. When you apologize it makes you seem more …docile. Submissive. If these creeps think you have an ounce of shyness or even politeness in you they’ll try to exploit it.”
“o-oh.” You stammered, surprised by how irritated Jaehee suddenly seemed
“Secondly,” Her expression softened a bit with a final tap on the screen “You didn’t block him immediately” She looked to you with a smile on her face, pleased with herself for whatever she said to your Fumblr follower
She handed the phone back to you and a light blush fell across your cheeks. Jaehee never seemed to be the protector type but when it comes down to it
Baehee isn’t letting anyone bother you
ever
Zen
He’s gotten his fair share of creepy fan mail, but he understands it comes with the job
But when you get creepy mail from his followers
NO NO NO NO NO
You two have all the fan mail sent to a P.O. Box so fans don’t have your home address
One time when you went to get the batch, the two of you found a handful of letters with your name on them
“My fans must see us together all the time” Zen said as he handed the letters to you, a cautious look on his face. He was worried it was going to be some fangirl writing a mean letter about how she deserves Zen instead of you
It was much creepier
It was a bunch of letters from some guy 
‘My sister is a big fan of Zen so I have to watch TV shows with him on them all the time. One time there was a news story about him, but you were in the picture with him…’
The letters go on to say how once the writer saw you with Zen he started searching you more and claimed you two would be a perfect match. He started suggesting you break up with Zen (offering for him to date his sister) and for the two of you to get together.
You have to literally hold Zen back so he doesnt march to the return address and beat the shit out of sender
“Zen it’ll be such bad press do not do not do not”
“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT”
“YES YOU DO PLS ZEN”
20 mins later
He’s not calm, but he’s not bum rushing the door so…calm enough
“Let’s think of a reasonable way to handle this” You slump into a chair, exhausted from being the only thing standing between Zen and a physical assault charge
After a few minutes of silence
..”I have an idea.”
Zen pulled out a pad and started scribbling. “He said his sister is a fan of me? Well I’ll make her an offer she can’t refuse.”
Zen ended up writing a very heartfelt note to the sister of the sender, explaining the situation and how uncomfortable you were feeling because of the brother. And if the sincerity of the letter wasn’t enough to get her to make her brother stop, the VIP pass to Zen’s next show was a good bribe. 
He sent it out the next morning, and a few days later you guys checked the PO box to find a letter from her apologizing profusely for her brother’s behavior and how she’d handle it. And about 10 pages of ‘thank you’s and compliments for Zen of course. 
Jumin
Elizabeth would only chase a laser pointer for so long, so you had a lot of free time whenever Jumin was at work
You were no stranger to social media sites as they were the best way to distract yourself for hours at a time until you had something entertaining to do
And you’ve gotten spam bots before, but never a human who was actually so forward enough to send you enough messages to make you a small novel
you look really nice in your profile picture
is that designer? man you got money to
you’re a rich bitch. wanna come see what its like on the other side of town?
You were appalled. 
“Leave me alone” was the best you could muster since you were in such a state of disgusted shock. 
The messages continued, and you ended up just blocking the guy. But even after that just looking at your phone made you a little nervous that you were going to see more messages from another douchebag
But nope
Same douchebag. Different site. 
why’d you block me? playing hard to get?
“How’d you find my profile?”
it’s not hard to figure it out since I saw your name on the other one ;*
You just blocked him again and put your phone down, resolving to entertain yourself with anything else that wasn’t social media.
Eventually Jumin came home, and the first thing he noticed was your phone sitting on the coffee table and a specific lack of…you.
He went into a panic for a moment before you stepped into the hall, freshly showered. 
“Oh, MC, there you are. I was worried for a second. You’re usually not far from your phone.” 
“Yeah..” You muttered. “Some guy just keeps bugging me”
What
What do you mean
What guy
How
You explain the situation to Jumin and his phone is to his ear almost immediately as he picks up yours with his free hand.
“Luciel? I’m cashing in on a favor….”
You knew immediately where this was going and you had a slight grin on your face, knowing the creep who kept messaging you wasn’t going to be bothering you or anyone else anytime soon
Seven
You don’t even waste time
The second you get the first creepy message
hey hot stuff
You hand your phone to Seven
He just looks down at the screen, and a devious smile spreads across his face
Sure he could mess with anyone he wanted, but this time he has an excuse to go all out and ruin this Creeps life.
Seven whips up a program in a matter of minutes, connects a USB from his computer to your phone, then texts the man back
‘Hey cutie…wanna see a picture? ;)’ and he attached a file 
It says the message was received and viewed, but no response was given.
“What’d you do?” You ask as Seven hands your phone back
With a big smirk on his face:
“Once he opens that file his phone is going to run through his chat logs and play back all his creepy messages  on a permanent loop on his screen. And if he has any wireless connection to his computer, say, cloud storage, it’s going to happen to his computer too. And every few minutes he’s going to get a picture of me dressed as a maid, because I have to deliver, you know?”
You give Seven a huge hug “Ugh, thank you. How will I every pay you back”
“You already did” He laughs
“Huh?”
“You’ll see” He winks and goes back to his computer.
You shrug and walk away, figuring you’d find out soon enough
And you did
The next time you opened your phone, your background was a nonstop slideshow of 707′s Greatest Crossdressing Pics
And all your app icons were selfies
And your gallery was filled with pictures of the red headed hacker
“SEEEEEEEVVVVVEEEEEENNNNNNNNN”
V
V was sitting on the couch and you were upstairs cleaning up and putzing around
Ding
V looked to see your phone light up on the table 
“MC, I think someone messaged you!” V yelled up the stairs
“Will you check it for me? It’s probably just a guest with a question about the party.” You called back 
“Sure.” And with that he opened your phone to find a rather crude picture  “What in the world”
my friend gave me ur number, thought you’d like this ;)
V was horrified that someone meant for you to open this 
‘I dont’ He typed back.
awww come on. you can tell from the pic im a good looking guy and my friend says ur cute. why dont we hang out
“No.” V glared at the number displayed at the top of the message board
playing hard to get? i like
V realized there was no reasoning with this idiot, and he thought it would be a waste of time trying to further communicate with a fool like his, so he bit down his better instinct and just sent a picture of himself glaring at the phone camera and typed “You’re talking to a man”
there was no reply for a moment
my friend said this was a girl
“I can assure I am not a female. Your friend gave you the wrong number. Go away”
There was no response but V was sure he could feel the embarrassment from the other side of the connection
With a satisfied huff he deleted the messages and number, figuring it best if you never have to worry about the situation
He also plans to find out which one of your friends would give your number to such a vulgar creep. 
Saeran
You two were watching a video on your phone when you got a sudden chat request on Kiik, a messaging app
Saeran cast a quizzical look at you and you return it with a shrug, signalling you had no clue
When you open it up theres just a bunch of weird messages
hey babe
hey
wanna be my valentine
i dont want to be lonely and i bet you dont either
we can keep each other company ;)
You didn’t even have a chance to respond before Saeran took the phone from your hand
“Fuck off” He was holding your phone so tight you thought he was gonna snap it in half
wow ur not very polite
“I said. Fuck. Off.” Saeran let out a breath that sounded like a growl
come on baby dont be like that
You could see a fire in your friend’s eyes and you knew things were about to get bad
“Send one more message and I’ll end your miserable existence, Scum.” 
“Saeran let’s just ignore it” You tried to take your phone back but he wouldn’t let go, too hyper focused on the screen. Instead he looked at you and said “He shouldn’t be talking to you this way.”
Ding
Both your eyes shot back to the screen
so you’ll come see me ;)
Whoever was on the other line had nooo clue who they were taunting
Saeran got up slowly, so slow it was a little creepy, when you looked at him you could see the gears running in his head
He walked over to his computer and started typing away, looking to the phone every now and then.
After about 20 minutes he finally came back to sit with you and handed your phone back.
“You….You good, Saeran?” You asked, surprised at how calmed he seemed.
He looked to you with a smile on his face and a glint in his eye. “I’m very good.”
You were almost worried to ask but “What’d you do?”
“Not much. But he’ll leave you alone soon enough.”
You stopped asking questions, he wouldn’t tell you the details anyways.
..
That night you were awoken to 
Dingdingdingdingding
You fumbled around in the dark and eventually opened your phone to see messages from the Kiik app
Iuwefjkgl
ahfuoieqhwf
please helpfehofejijeqiue
…..
I’m very sorry for what I said to you earlier. I will never contact you again. If I do my fingers will be broken.
You knew immediately. 
“Saeran what’d you do???” You sent the text
All you got back was “:)” 
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