#been there for maybe five years and the admins are messing it up
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lesawrites · 1 year ago
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Hello all! I am one of the many migrating from Quotev after the admins there decided to get rid of the best features. I go by Lesa, though many knew me as Lara Kate on Quotev.
I am a writer of both fanfictions (specifically Twilight fanfics) and original fiction (sci-fi and fantasy, mostly) and will be posting about those as well as general writing things. I enjoy reading, especially sci-fi, fantasy, and dystopian among other genres, and am happy to hear recommendations for those genres.
My main twilight fanfic is called Rebirth and is currently seven chapters in, posted on Quotev, AO3, Wattpad, and Fanfiction.net. It’s about a girl who’s reincarnated with her memories every time she dies, which is always, always because of a vampire. In her newest life, she finds herself adopted by a family of vampires, the Cullens, and must either escape with her life or learn to love and trust them.
Rebirth on Quotev: https://www.quotev.com/story/16187295/Rebirth-Book-One
My main original fiction is called For All We Can’t Do and is not posted anywhere. Its about a girl who, after the majority of the world died from magic suddenly being released in the world, takes in a bunch of orphaned children and struggles to maintain everything and keep everyone safe, happy, and fed. The story is dual-pov, and also follows her brother who is a part of an organization with the goal of bettering the world they’re in and maintaining as much of the old world as they can. With many secrets, lies, and struggles in this constantly changing world, both have to figure out how far they’re willing to go for those they love.
Feel free to ask me anything about either of my stories or any writing related things!
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stereax · 1 year ago
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hello!! for the drafts thing: “bless your waters, bless your doubts” what did you set out to do with this? what changed that caused you to put it on hold? what are the themes that jump out at you, what story were you trying to tell? also, is the title a reference to something? i love to hear about the creative process!! :3
- puckpocketed on main
Yes!!! Oh my god, this was such a fun project that I began undertaking. Just couldn't keep going on it. More under the cut.
So yes! The title is a reference to the Devils' goal song. Here it is, if you haven't heard it (or if you haven't heard it in its entirety) before.
youtube
Okay third time's the charm my posts are being chewed upon by tumblr please dear lord let me post this this time please please PLEASE
[inhales] Okay! So the initial premise of this fic is incredibly simple. Dougie Hamilton, one of the Devils' better defensemen, has a running joke going where the Devils claim he's the admin of our social media. Hamilton slapshot goals are posted with a caption of "I scored!", Dougie's been roped into the act a few times, the like. So obviously this means someone's gotta write a Dougie Hamilton social media admin AU. I'm surprised nobody has yet. Devilsblr, get on it.
Anyway. I think the indents are messing up my post so let's try to post step by step. Instead of indenting snippets, I'll italicize them.
"What?"
Of all the things Dougie Hamilton had expected to hear when being pulled aside by the media team before the first game of the season, this was not it. The hockey player reclines in his seat, rubbing at one of his eyes. "You want me to do what?" he repeats.
Across from him sits Christopher Wescott, leader of the social media team if memory serves Dougie right. A quick glance down at Wescott's placard on his desk, prominently placed, confirms it. Director, Content Strategy & Social Media. Then again, Wescott usually wasn't seen filming anything, or talking to the players even, unless it was roping a certain Jack Hughes in front of a camera to try to get him to sell the youth foundation. That took all hands on deck. They even got the players involved in that one.
Gravy celebrated that hundred-dollar bonus for capturing Jack harder than any goal he's scored with the man. Colorado sleeper agent, Severson complained the next day. I would've doubled it if he let me go, Hughes complained in concurrence.
Dougie didn't remember when the media crew ever needed the hockey equivalent of a SWAT team, not in Boston or Calgary or Raleigh. Then again, maybe he's just not used to Jersey yet. (It's not New Jersey, Nico clued him in before one of his first post-game interviews. Just Jersey. Say New Jersey and they know you're not from here. Just Jersey and you're one of the locals.)
And here, in Just Jersey, Christopher Wescott wants Dougie Hamilton to take a second job.
"The younger generation of fans like memes," Wescott explains. The word memes rolls off his tongue like Dougie rolls out of bed after a physical game; that is to say, falls like a paperweight and ends up on the floor sprawled awkwardly, wondering why he hasn't retired and become a lawyer like his father yet. Wescott is what, five years older than Dougie, maybe? From the way he speaks, it sounds like he's an old man trying to commit the name of his smart speaker to memory. Erica, remind me to buy rice.
"And the team said you're supposedly the best at making them," Wescott continues, snapping Dougie out of this train of thought.
"Rice?" Dougie echoes, confused. "Anyone can make rice. It's just an orange packet you put in the microwave, you rip the top off a bit..."
Wescott sighs, running a hand through his hair. He's definitely thinking some dumb hockey player stereotype right now; Dougie can tell by the way his brow furrows in annoyance. "Look," and here he drops his volume two steps, scooting forward to lean across his desk, and oh this is serious? Dougie better pay at least enough attention to remember this discussion. No more rice. "I thought social media posting was just going to be putting up reverse retro pictures and celebrating stars of the week if we get any. You know, standard fare. But Andrew floated the idea with us a few weeks back and we really think we can get ahead of the league in capturing younger fans with a more dynamic social media presence." Of course it was Maclean, or, as the team called him, Picture Day. One guess as to why.
"And where do I get involved in this?" Dougie asks, but he realizes even as he asks that it's not going to change his final answer.
"We were thinking to make a meme after every win." Wescott pauses. "Oh, and some other reels and things for when it's needed. Of course Catherine's also going to be making content for us, too." Catherine Bogart, Queen of the Tiny Mic. Oh boy.
"Do I get tiny mic privileges?" Dougie flashes one of his patented Hamilton Smiles, hoping to catch Wescott off guard.
"We'll think about it." No then. Aw. Would've been fun though.
"Do I get paid?"
The director shrugs. "Aren't you on a multi-million dollar contract?"
"To play hockey," Dougie specifies. "Not to deep-fry Bratt pics." From the look of confusion on Wescott's face, Dougie reminds himself once again that he's dealing with a senior citizen in the body of a mid-30s advertising executive. The guy probably needed an assistant to turn on his computer. For him, deep-frying is exclusively for overpriced tempura. "Meme things," he explains without explaining. "But - "
"Museum pass, any place in the state, any exhibit, we can figure it out for you."
That rumor even made it here? Well. Hey. It's something to do on the weekends, he figures. And he's pretty sure Wescott, fancy director placard and all, can't actually give him a salary for this. "Fine," Dougie agrees. He's used to being underpaid, after all. Might as well have fun with it. Besides, it's a good excuse to get out of any social events he doesn't particularly want to go to. (Is he justifying this to himself? Oh, definitely. But he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to do this.)
So yeah! The basic premise of the fic is Dougie's (mis)adventures running the social media for the Devils, his work with the social media people, his reactions to the Devils' season, and the like. I tried to keep it quite light (funny, even, perhaps? but I'm not really funny). Dougie, is, at his heart, a fun character, and I'd like to think it shows a little. It's not that realistic (he definitely doesn't text from the bench!) but it's fun.
In typical Devils fashion, they lose the first game.
In typical Devils fashion, they also lose the second game.
Dougie already has the next three games lined up. He doesn't expect to need more than one of them, if he's being honest with himself, but he's personalizing for each team, so there's that. Might come in handy later in the season, too.
By the end of the second period against Anaheim, they're 2-2. This is also the approximate time Dougie realizes he doesn't have access to the Devils' social media accounts.
Fuck.
And to make matters worse, Dougie starts the third period on the ice.
Shit.
And, if that weren't bad enough, he scores a goal 33 seconds into the period.
Damn it.
All this to mean that, in the next thirty or so minutes, Dougie Hamilton needs to hack into Instagram and TikTok and get ready to post this meme.
The second he's on the bench, he paws off his gloves, reaching for his phone under the front wall. Shaking it on, Dougie quickly navigates to Instagram and logs -
"Dougie, you're on," Lindy calls. The defenseman slides his phone back and jumps over the wall.
When he gets back to the bench a minute or so later, Dougie completes the process of logging off his Instagram account, then quickly punches in the Devils' media email address for the login. It shows him the right account, which is good -
"Dougie, you're on." Lindy again.
As he skates, Dougie contemplates the password. He can't disappear from the bench mid-period to go and find whoever was still working now and ask, so he's got to figure this out on his own.
The first password Dougie tries is njdevils. No dice. He goes on for another shift, then comes back and tries raisehell. Also nothing. If he keeps this up, he's going to freeze the account. Two shifts later, Mercer scores, and now the situation is dire, just when Dougie's brain is deep-fried worse than the Bratt pictures he sent the groupchat last week.
"Hey, Haula," he whispers as the center clambers over the wall to take his position on the faceoff. "If you were gonna make a password, what would it be?" In retrospect, Haula is not the person to ask about this, but Dougie will take what he can get, thank you very much.
"I dunno, man," Haula shrugs. "Password or something?" He raises an eyebrow at the weird question, skating off. Dougie nearly facepalms at the response, but fuck it, he might as well try. password.
Holy fucking shit.
Dougie slides his phone back onto the shelf to take another shift, biting his tongue to keep from cackling so loudly that even his own teammates would stay away from him. Holy fucking shit. Wescott and company clearly have never had a single lesson about cybersecurity.
Well, he's in now, and that's the most important.
However, as I continued writing, another story "thread" popped up, this one a lot more personal to me - the story of the Polish diaspora in New Jersey. A lot of my own personal stories are reflected in this part of the fic. It makes sense in the story (Dougie rents a townhouse in Garfield to avoid being recognized in Newport, Hoboken, and that area), but it's definitely a sharp left from the fic's initial focus. The two plot lines do intersect later on, but I never got to really writing that part of the story, sadly.
A few moments later, Ms. K turns off the stove and carries the soup pot into the dining room with two oven-mitted hands. Dougie pulls himself up to steady the situation however he can, helping direct the pot into its position. Ms. K takes the ladle she had hooked onto her arm, snatching Dougie's bowl before he can react and filling it with several ladlefuls of żurek. At the hockey player's mortified expression of a silent way too much, Ms. K shakes her head emphatically. "Big man, strong, big meal."
"Okay," Dougie agrees, cautious, as he settles back down in his chair and takes his spoon, stirring the soup. Chunks of sausage - kiełbasa - float up to the top before dipping back in. "Thank you," he mumbles, a little too quiet for even his own liking. He's just tired after the game. Yeah. Tired and a little humbled by the kind gesture.
"No worries," Ms. K replies, and from the way she rubs her hands together as she sits, Dougie knows she's one step away from launching into a story over dinner. "You know Martyna from the deli?"
"Yeah," Dougie nods. One of Ms. K's co-workers at Bratek, the business on the other side of town where she cooks for a living. Dougie's been there a few times, just to bask in the atmosphere and maybe score a few free candies. Martyna's the young one, couldn't be more than 24. Her husband Konrad is, from what Dougie has heard of him, a massive piece of shit. He suspects he's going to hear more of him in a moment.
"She came in yesterday all crying," Ms. K sighs, blowing on a spoonful of soup. It reminds Dougie to try his own - it's distinctively sour, but in a good way, enticing yet filling. (He suspects Ms. K makes him a lighter batch than she normally cooks, given the difference in color between this one and the one at the deli. No matter.) "Says that barely enough money for rent. Konrad drinks it all away. Co za kurwa debil."
Dougie doesn't need to speak a word of Polish to understand the meaning behind that acidic sentence, that Ms. K clearly isn't happy with her coworker's husband. "That bad?" he queries, making sure to leave it open for interpretation.
"He even doesn't have job," Ms. K rolls her eyes. "I told her, this man no good, he not love you. No. She loves him. Enough for her that she loves him." The older lady sighs. "Love doesn't pay rent. Or food. Or gas. He needs job." Dougie nods again in agreement, letting her continue; after a moment, she does. "Nobody want to hire him. Not construction, not restaurant, nobody. All what he does is drink and complain."
"Maybe he's got some sort of mental disorder?" The defenseman offers the idea. "Sits at home all day, does nothing, drinks - "
Ms. K barks out a laugh, cutting Dougie off. "His mental disorder" (here she butchers the pronunciation of the words) "is lazy. He doesn't go to school, doesn't work. Only watch game and drink. Lazy. Mother not raise him right." She shakes her head. "You give child everything, they get lazy. You make child work, they not get lazy."
"Aha," Dougie grants the point, deciding that a debate on the existence of depression against his matronly elderly neighbor who was currently feeding him wasn't exactly his plan for the rest of the day.
"No discipline in that house," Ms. K sighs. "All three Kubiaks lazy. One I understand, three is parents' fault." A pause as Ms. K lifts her spoon. "Martyna stupid, Konrad lazy. Perfect together."
They eat for a few minutes in silence, Dougie digesting both the soup and the gossip. "She's at least a good worker though." It's a calculated statement, because Ms. K very obviously wants to keep talking, but Dougie doesn't want to hear about Polish child-rearing strategies (which, from his very limited experience, began and ended at corporal punishment). So hopefully she bites on the redirect.
"Did I tell you about Barbara?" Hook, line, sinker.
"No," Dougie hums.
"She knows nothing!" Ms. K flushes red with annoyance. "She goes all day and looks how I cook. She can't even make salad. All you do is..." Her steam runs out as she searches for the word she needs. "Zetrzeć carrot, doesn't know how."
"Cut?"
"No, not cut." Ms. K mimes running a carrot over a grater. "So you get thin."
"Grate," Dougie supplies.
She nods quickly. "Yes, grate. Cannot grate carrot. Cuts herself. Cannot stir soup - not even make soup, just stir it. Burns herself. Or gets soup dirty."
He chuckles at that. "So she's not a good chef."
"No, but she is owner's son's wife," Ms. K sighs. "Cannot be at cash register, scans things twice. Cannot stack food, food falls and breaks. Cannot cook, chicken is raw and burnt. Both on same piece. Useless."
Dougie tilts his soup bowl to fill his spoon, unable to stop his eyes from looking at the cakes on display. The nutritionists don't need to know. "Can she bake?"
"She make pączki and pączki go boom." She says it so matter-of-factly that it's hysterical. "If she know how bake, she work at Piast."
Piast, the Polish store/restaurant hybrid that looks like a literal castle on the side of the road. Dougie hasn't ever been inside, Ms. K forbidding it (and once again, he's not going to argue with the woman who clearly knows her stuff). "If you ever need Polish food, come to me. Not Piast. Owner died, place is bad now. Too expensive."
That's another thing about Polish people - they measure everything in who died. Usually with when and how thrown into the mix. Honestly, it's fascinating. Ms. K puts on her Polish television shows and points out to Dougie who had a heart attack and who got into a car accident, recounting the details as if she were the coroner. She turns on the radio and everyone got cancer or was murdered by a French guy, five songs in a row, and then an Italian song comes on. Ms. K purses her lips for a minute, then says, "Did you know their daughter disappeared? Took too many drugs, jumped off a bridge. So young, too."
It's kind of morbid, Dougie figures.
Every Sunday, Ms. K goes to church and then to the cemetery, weather permitting. She takes candles with her in fancy glass containers, lights them and leaves them on her husband's grave. Dougie's seen the containers and heard the stories, how she counts the days until she sees him again. Dougie asks her, once, whether she wants to find another husband; she laughs sadly, "When Wojciech died, I saw it was either son or new man. I said better to work for son than for stranger. Son no longer here, but am old now. No point in looking for husband. I have husband already. Just not here anymore."
I think the main "issue" with this fic is that it's Super Fucking Long. There are so many plot lines in it and so much going on that it quickly became an overwhelming sort of project and I sputtered out on energy.
If I went back to rework it, I'd have to definitely consider whether all the parts are truly necessary or whether I just want to focus on Dougie as the social media admin and go from there. Additionally, I didn't know much about some characters before beginning to write, so they come across as fairly OOC, so I need to rework that.
Fun fact, though - I originally intended bless your waters, bless your doubts to be a capstone of a series. Each fic would represent one line of "Howl" and would be a short oneshot dealing with a specific Devil and some specific situation they were in. For example:
and all grown up and traveled so well - Mercer about heritage
do you still hear the sound of the thunder while you lie up by yourself? - Palat injury
And each one would offer a new perspective, roughly in chronological order, on the Devils and their own narratives. I still feel that the "braided" fics, as I call them, would be vitally important in presenting a complete picture, and I'd want to preserve them if I do retry this one.
However, it's a bit of a "dated" fic (22-23 is so long ago now), plus it'd end up being so incredibly long... I don't think I have it in me. Maybe someday.
Have one last snippet, here, and Experience Devils Hockey with me! [profuse sobbing]
It's seven-fifteen by the time Dawson shows up, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Classic. Dougie can't help but chuckle as he opens the door for the young center. "Nice to see you," he smiles, a little fondly. Dawson reminds him a little too much of himself. He supposes it's only kind to pay it forward and take him under his wing.
"Yeah," Dawson grins back. "What's cooking?"
"Figure it out," Dougie challenges. The kid sniffs the air, contemplating his next words, and Dougie takes the opportunity to take the finished chicken out of the oven. "Before if gets cold," he calls across the room, balancing the dish in both gloved hands. Dawson scurries over to get a better look.
"I knew it had to be garlic," the Newfoundlander comments. He pulls out his chair and plops down unceremoniously. "Got anything to drink?"
Dougie bites his tongue to stop from rolling his eyes. "Because you want to be hungover the morning before the Caps."
"It'll help the L go down," Mercer offers. Damn, they really thought they had no chance, huh?
Right. This team never did have a chance. He's been here a year already but enough of that time was on injured reserve (and the rest trying to avoid anyone on his former teams) that it's still new to him, this - this culture of expecting loss. He sees it in the eyes of the old guard, how Sevo and Wood sigh when a goal is given up like it's the last breath they know how to take. Even the newer players feel it, see it, know it.
This was once a dynasty, Dougie understands, and now the castle is in ruins.
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besori · 4 months ago
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hi everyone! this is sori, my newest muse, and i’m so excited to throw her into the chaos of wannabe. she’s not a trainee yet (maybe- admins willing, it will happen one day and she'll absolutely lose her mind) —just a girl with a dream and a whole lot of determination. while balancing university, nanny work, and nonstop practice, she’s trying to prove she has what it takes to get signed.
THE BASICS
name: jung sori (정소리)
age: 21 (2003)
hometown: atlanta, georgia → seoul, south korea
languages: korean, english
WHO SHE IS
dancer first, aspiring idol second (for now). grew up in competitive ballet, jazz, and contemporary dance, which gave her precision and control—but now she has to unlearn competition stiffness and find her stage presence.
works as a nanny. taking care of someone else’s kid while chasing her own dream is… a lot. but she thrives on being busy, juggling school, work, and late-night training like she has something to prove. (because she does.)
sweet, but not soft. people see her as kind and hardworking, but when pushed, she’s quick to bite back. she’s used to bottling up frustration until it cracks, and she’s still learning how to show confidence without second-guessing herself.
sees debuting as a long shot—but she’s still reaching for it. she’s naturally talented but still needs formal vocal training, and she knows the industry won’t make space for her unless she forces her way in.
PERSONALITY POINTS
always running five minutes late, always swearing she’ll do better next time.
likes people, but people exhaust her. she’s warm, but she’s not a people pleaser.
quick to laugh, even quicker to shut down when she’s frustrated. her temper is quiet, but it’s there.
works herself into the ground, then acts surprised when she crashes. being busy makes her feel safe.
not a naturally competitive person, but if you challenge her, she’s not backing down.
her sense of direction is terrible. she’s been in seoul for three years, still gets lost.
FIRST CONTACT / STARTER IDEAS
"you’re still here?" someone catches her lingering in the studio room way too late, running a routine until her feet hurt.
"how do you do that?" she offers an impromptu dance lesson to someone struggling with choreo.
"you watch kids? can you watch my kid sibling for a night?" someone learns about her nanny job and tries to cash in.
"i’ve seen you at auditions." another ~wannabe~ recognizes her from the same casting calls.
"you’re not from here, are you?" she messes up a figure of speech or asks a dumb question, exposing her roots.
if you’re interested in plotting, let’s chat! i’d love to develop fun dynamics, rivals, friendships, or anything in between.
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depressedhouseplant · 2 years ago
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🔞 Cops & Robbers (Bbangju) 🔞
Chapter 3
Tags: Description of torture & death, no smut
WC: 2500
A/N: Cozy up my 2 readers. This is what I refer to as plot
“What kind of fucked up shit have you gotten into that you had to call me?” Sunwoo asked when he picked up the phone.
“You remember that gang I mentioned a few months ago?” Juyeon had snuck out of the room to call the best hacker he knew.
“You mean the one that got Eric pinched?” Sunwoo replied.
“Yeah. I think they tortured Younghoon and killed his assistant,” Juyeon told him.
“They tortured your cop?!” the other man cried.
“He’s not my cop,” Juyeon insisted.
“Bullshit. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he was your boyfriend not someone who’s been trying to arrest you for the better part of five years,” Sunwoo snorted.
“Regardless of our relationship, someone tortured him. I gave him the names I know two days ago. He was kidnapped less than a day later. That’s too close to be a coincidence. They’ve either got a mole or their own hacker,” Juyeon explained.
“And you want me to run those names through the dark web to find them,” it was a statement not a question.
“I want you to run them through every database you know and maybe even make up a few,” Juyeon instructed.
“That I can do,” Sunwoo confirmed. “What do you want me to do when I find something?”
“Come over here. This is an encrypted line, but I don’t trust anything at this point,” Juyeon said.
“Or I could just come over now before I start and set up in that faraday cage you call a basement,” Sunwoo replied.
“That’s probably better. Let yourself in and you know where to set up,” Juyeon heard rustling in the bedroom. “Gotta go.”
“Where’d you go?” Younghoon asked, trying to push himself up to sitting.
“I had to make a call. What are you doing?” Juyeon walked over to the bed and helped Younghoon sit up.
“I have to pee. All those IV fluids Kevin gave me caught up with me. I figured you wouldn’t appreciate me peeing in the bed,” Younghoon explained.
“Neither would you. Let me help you,” Juyeon smiled a little. Younghoon looked like he was going to protest.
“Thank you,��� he said instead.
“I don’t want you hurting yourself more,” Juyeon got on the side that didn’t have stitches or torn muscles, put Younghoon’s arm over his shoulders, and helped him to the bathroom.
“You don’t have to come in with me,” Younghoon said.
“I’ll be on the other side of the door the whole time. I hope you don’t have a shy bladder,” Juyeon teased.
“I’ll be fine,” Younghoon assured him. Juyeon waited until Younghoon was done then helped him back to the bed. Even though his torso was covered in bruises, Younghoon still cuddled up next to Juyeon. Juyeon rested the other man’s head against his shoulder and pulled his leg across his hips.
“He was dead when I woke up,” Younghoon whispered.
“What?” Juyeon asked.
“Chanhee was dead when I woke up. One of them choked me out and when I came to, they’d already killed him. At first I thought they were bluffing to scare me. Then I saw the bullet wounds. They shot him twice in the head. They left his body in there with me. He had nothing to do with this. He was just an admin. I tried to convince them not to take him,” Younghoon started to cry.
“I’ve got the best in the business tracking down the names I gave you. If anyone can get all the details, it’s him,” Juyeon assured him.
“They let me go when they realized I really don’t know anything other than a few names. I don’t know what they did with Chanhee’s body. His family will never forgive me,” he sobbed.
“I can get Changmin and Hyunjae on it,” Juyeon carefully wiped Younghoon’s cheeks.
“Why are you helping me?” Younghoon asked.
“Because you’re mine and no one gets away with messing with what’s mine,” Juyeon replied. Sunwoo was right. Younghoon was his and he was Younghoon’s.
“Yours, huh?” Younghoon sniffed.
“It only took me five years to do it,” Juyeon smiled.
“The ultimate slow burn,” Younghoon huffed. Juyeon laughed.
“I’ll be really pissed if they messed up your scar. I marked you first,” he said.
“I don’t think so. They wanted to know where I got it from though,” Younghoon reached his arm up to hug around Juyeon’s shoulders. He hissed when his side moved.
“Careful,” Juyeon held onto him tighter.
“I told them the truth. I told them you tried to kill me the first time we met. I think that sold them on the fact I really didn’t know anything,” Younghoon continued. “I left out the part where I tried to kill you the next time.”
“They don’t need to know about our extended courtship,” Juyeon ran his fingers up Younghoon’s arm. Younghoon huffed a laugh.
“If that’s the case, you owe me five years’ worth of lavish gifts,” he said.
“Whatever you want, darling. I’m not letting you leave here until I’ve taken care of this,” Juyeon replied as he weaved their fingers together.
“You think I’m still in danger?” Younghoon looked up at him. In the dark it was easy to pretend his face wasn’t bruised and he was in Juyeon’s bed for a different reason.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to take any chances,” Juyeon said. They heard a door slam downstairs. “And that would be Sunwoo.”
“Do you need to talk to him?” Younghoon asked.
“Nah, he knows his way around. They all do,” Juyeon replied.
“You did a good job hiding this place. I didn’t know about it,” Younghoon told him.
“You only saw what I wanted you to see,” Juyeon rested his hand on Younghoon’s thigh.
“I figured that out relatively quickly,” Younghoon nipped at Juyeon’s jaw.
“You’re feeling feisty,” Juyeon observed.
“Which is funny because I think the pain meds are starting to wear off,” Younghoon huffed a laugh.
“Do I need to get you more? I’m not a doctor, but I’m decent at giving shots,” Juyeon offered. He tried to quell his anxiety. Kevin had given him the highest dose he could without risking any kind of respiratory side effects. He hated that Younghoon was in pain. It was his fault. He never should’ve asked Younghoon to look up those names. He should’ve dealt with himself. Then Chanhee would still be alive and Younghoon wouldn’t have spent roughly 18 hours being tortured for information he didn’t have.
“I’m sorry,” Juyeon whispered.
“What for?” Younghoon looked up at him.
“None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t asked you to check those names,” Juyeon sighed.
“You don’t know that. If they’re onto you like you think they are, it’s possible they would’ve found me eventually,” Younghoon tried to reassure him.
“I still feel responsible,” Juyeon kissed Younghoon’s hair. He didn’t smell like himself. He smelled like antiseptic. “You smell funny.”
“Well you don’t smell so great yourself,” Younghoon sniped.
“I mean you don’t smell like you,” Juyeon explained.
“How do you know what I smell like?” Younghoon asked.
“We’ve been in each other’s personal space enough. I bet you’d notice if I smelled like hospital,” Juyeon pointed out.
“I suppose you’re right,” Younghoon conceded.
“Of course I’m right. I might send someone over to get your soap and shampoo. I need you smelling right,” Juyeon grinned.
“I’m not allowed to use your stuff?” Younghoon poked him.
“I won’t be responsible for my actions if you start smelling like me,” Juyeon said.
“You and I both know you’d control yourself because you didn’t want to hurt me. You went up the stairs at a snail’s pace,” Younghoon called his bluff.
“And now it’s your turn to be right,” Juyeon teased. “It’s six am and you need to sleep more.”
“And you don’t?” Younghoon asked.
“I don’t sleep,” he wouldn’t be getting much sleep with Younghoon in his bed. He was too anxious to fall asleep in case something happened while he was asleep.
“You need to,” the other man winced when he tried to move.
“And you need more pain medication. I’ll be back,” Juyeon gently moved him.
“I’m fine,” Younghoon insisted. Juyeon gave him a look. “If it’ll make you feel better.”
“It will,” Juyeon replied.
“Off you go then,” Younghoon tried to wave him off with one hand. The other one was holding onto his ribs. Juyeon tried not to snarl at the sight. They were going to wish they’d never been born when he got his hands on them. Whoever they were.
Kevin had left a set of premeasured syringes for Younghoon. Juyeon learned how to give shots out of necessity. If one of them got too banged up someone else had to medicate them. The irony was most of them were either afraid of needles or squeamish.
“Didn’t expect to see you down here,” Sunwoo’s voice came from behind him.
“Time for Younghoon’s next round of pain meds,” Juyeon replied, not turning around.
“Morphine? How bad is it?” Sunwoo eyed the syringe in Juyeon’s hand.
“Bad enough,” Juyeon said, trying to make it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it. “Have you found anything?”
“Not yet, but it’s been less than an hour. I came up here for a snack and a Red Bull,” Sunwoo stretched.
“I’m pretty sure most of your blood volume is Red Bull,” Juyeon snorted.
“I’d be far less efficient without it,” Sunwoo told him as he opened the fridge. “Last time I checked, you pay me because I’m ruthlessly efficient.”
“Last time I checked, I dock pay for attitude,” Juyeon made a face. Sunwoo rolled his eyes.
“I believe that about as much as I believe the cop isn’t your boyfriend,” Sunwoo grabbed a drink and leftover pizza.
“He has a name,” Juyeon tried not to sound too irritated.
“Fine, I believe you’ll dock my pay about as much as I believe Younghoon isn’t your boyfriend,” Sunwoo corrected.
“Have I told you how annoying you are?” Juyeon bumped Sunwoo out of the way to get a water bottle out of the fridge.
“Not in the past 24 hours,” Sunwoo smirked. “Now go back to your man and I’ll get back to finding these assholes.”
“Thanks,” Juyeon tipped his head.
“No problem,” Sunwoo waved on his way back to the basement.
“Sorry I took so long. Sunwoo was down there,” Juyeon apologized when he got back in the bedroom.
“I told you I���m fine,” Younghoon sighed. His breathing had changed since Juyeon left downstairs.
“What did you do?” Juyeon asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Younghoon replied.
“Don’t lie to me. I told you it doesn’t suit you,” Juyeon eyed him suspiciously.
“I had to pee again. I got myself there and back just fine. It still hurts to breathe so I might be a little out of breath,” Younghoon confessed.
“Kim Younghoon, I swear…” Juyeon started.
“I don’t want you to baby me,” Younghoon cut him off.
“Darling, I’m not trying to baby you. You got the shit beaten out of you. I’m trying to make sure that you start to heal properly,” Juyeon sat on the bed next to him. “Now let me see that haunch.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Younghoon joked as Juyeon pulled down the waistband of the sweatpants to reveal Younghoon’s hip.
“Technically you aren’t supposed to give shots in the ass anymore. Something about nerve damage,” Juyeon gently pressed the skin to find the correct spot. “Little pinch.”
Younghoon held still as Juyeon gave him the shot, watching him intently.
“Didn’t even feel it,” Younghoon mused.
“Told you I was decent at this,” Juyeon smiled. He fixed Younghoon’s pants and laid them back down. “Seriously, you need to sleep.”
“Every time I close my eyes, I see his body,” Younghoon said quietly. “It’s not like I’ve never seen a dead body before. He was my friend, though. He told me that he’d eventually find out who I slept with when he saw the hickey you gave me. Now he’ll never know and I won’t get to listen to him shamelessly tease me about it.”
“I guess that depends on your views on the afterlife,” Juyeon idly rubbed Younghoon’s arm.
“Honestly? I hope he just blipped out of existence. Seems like the best possible option to me,” Younghoon replied.
“I’m not sure what I believe. Guess I’ll find out when I die,” Juyeon sighed into the dark. “It’ll go away eventually.”
“What will?” Younghoon asked.
“Seeing him every time you close your eyes,” Juyeon couldn’t bring himself to look at Younghoon.
“How do you know?” the other man asked.
“I don’t talk about it much, but I watched my dad die. He’d been shot by a rival gang and was brought back here. They couldn’t do anything for him so I watched him die on the couch,” Juyeon told him.
“How old were you?” Younghoon tightened his grip around Juyeon’s waist.
“Thirteen,” Juyeon whispered.
“You said he was brought back here?” Younghoon repeated.
“This is the house I grew up in. I have other houses, but somehow I always end up back here. My mom passed last year, but you already know that. I’m an only child which I know you also already know. My men aren’t just employees. They’re my family,” Juyeon hugged Younghoon back.
“What do you know about me?” Younghoon rested his head on Juyeon’s chest.
“I know you’re also an only child. Your parents were older when you were born. If I’m remembering correctly your mom was 42 and your dad was 47. Your dad died of cancer the first year we met and your mom died less than a year later. Chanhee was the only person you really spent time with. Am I right?” Juyeon told him.
“You’re right. Funny how you know more about my family than I know about yours,” Younghoon observed.
“I do have Sunwoo, but I also don’t let anyone see anything I don’t want them to see,” Juyeon reminded him.
“Always one step ahead,” Younghoon yawned.
“I’m the best for a reason. I know you don’t want to sleep, but at least try? I’ll be right here the whole time. I promise,” Juyeon kissed his hair.
“You promise?” Younghoon confirmed.
“Have I ever lied to you?” Juyeon asked. Younghoon reached up and traced the scar on Juyeon’s collarbone. Kevin had offered him multiple methods to fade it, but Juyeon refused. It was a reminder of the person who refused to let him go.
“Never,” Younghoon answered.
“Then sleep, darling,” Juyeon nuzzled the other man’s hair. Younghoon sighed. Then Juyeon’s phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Sunwoo: Found something
“What is it?” Younghoon asked, picking up his head.
“Nothing that can’t wait,” Juyeon replied.
Juyeon: Later
Sunwoo: Stay with your man. I’ve got it covered
Juyeon: What did I say about docking pay for attitude?
Sunwoo: Riiiiiight
“I’m all yours,” Juyeon said, putting his phone back.
“I know,” Younghoon replied. “I know.”
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sweepymaidsca · 3 months ago
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From Chaos to Calm: Brampton’s Best Home Cleaning Hacks (and Who to Call)
Let’s talk about weekends for a second. Remember when Saturdays used to mean brunch, a lazy coffee on the porch, or maybe a spontaneous road trip with the kids? For a lot of families in Brampton, weekends now mean laundry mountains, dust battles, and the dreaded bathroom deep clean.
Sound familiar?
You’re not alone. In the daily hustle of work, school runs, and life admin, home cleaning often gets pushed to the weekend. But more and more families in Brampton are flipping the script—and they’re doing it with a little help from professionals like Sweepy Maids, the go-to name for home cleaning in Brampton.
Here’s how they’re reclaiming their weekends (and their sanity) one sparkling room at a time.
1. A Clean Home Without Lifting a Finger? Yes, Please.
Let’s be honest. Scrubbing baseboards, vacuuming behind furniture, and fighting with streaky windows isn’t anyone’s idea of a good time. And for busy parents, professionals, and caregivers, it’s a recipe for burnout.
That’s why professional house cleaning in Brampton is more than just a luxury—it’s a practical solution. Families are realizing that outsourcing cleaning doesn’t mean you’re lazy. It means you’re smart about how you spend your time.
2. Quality Time Is Back on the Schedule
What would you do with five extra hours on your Saturday? Play a board game with your kids? Read that book that’s been collecting dust? Actually rest?
When families hand off their chores to trusted cleaning pros like Sweepy Maids, they get something priceless back: time. That means less stress and more connection. And that’s what weekends were made for.
3. A Home That Feels Like a Reset Button
There’s something magical about walking into a clean house. The air feels lighter. Your brain feels clearer. And the weight of “I should really clean the kitchen” finally lifts.
Sweepy Maids offers deep and regular maid service abbotsford that help families hit that reset button. Whether it’s a once-a-month refresh or weekly maintenance, your home will feel like a place to relax—not a to-do list.
4. The Power of Consistency
Cleaning once in a while is great. But cleaning on a schedule? That’s a game changer.
Families who use house cleaning services in Brampton regularly say they don’t just see a difference—they feel it. With consistent care, mess doesn’t build up. Dirt doesn’t stick around. And you’re not stuck panic-cleaning before guests show up.
5. Pressure Washing = Instant Curb Appeal
The outside of your home deserves love too. From driveways to siding, Sweepy Maids offers pressure washing in Brampton that makes your house look brand new.
It’s the kind of transformation you don’t expect until you see it. And yes, your neighbors will notice.
6. A Service That Fits Your Life
One of the biggest reasons Brampton families love Sweepy Maids? Their services fit your life. Whether you need:
A one-time deep clean after a party
Weekly touch-ups before the workweek begins
Help with spring cleaning or move-outs
Or even specialized services for carpets or pressure washing
They make it easy. No hassle. No stress. Just a team that shows up, does a fantastic job, and gives you back your time.
7. Trust Is Everything
Let’s be real: letting someone into your home isn’t a small thing. Sweepy Maids gets that. Their team is known around Brampton not just for spotless results, but for being kind, respectful, and dependable. Families trust them. That’s why most clients stick around for years.
You’re not just hiring a cleaning crew—you’re building a relationship with people who genuinely care about your home.
8. Peace of Mind You Can Feel
When your house is clean, your mind is clearer. There’s less chaos. Less overwhelm. That mental relief is hard to measure—but you feel it in your bones. You breathe a little easier. You sleep better.
Professional home cleaning services in Brampton aren’t just about dust and grime. They’re about creating an environment that helps you thrive.
Conclusion
If your weekends are buried in chores, it might be time to make a change. Brampton families are already making the shift, and they’re loving the results. Cleaner homes. Happier weekends. More freedom.
So, if you’re ready to trade your mop for more meaningful moments, it’s time to call in the pros.
📍 Sweepy Maids—Brampton’s trusted name in clean homes and calm weekends.
Because you deserve a weekend that feels like yours again.
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whentherewerebicycles · 5 months ago
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okay job materials update:
the cover letter is not FINISHED finished but I redrafted it basically from scratch today and still managed to get it pretty close. I need to rework a transition sentence or two, and I have to look up and fill in some missing details in the “why this college” paragraph, but I’m reasonably happy with where it’s at and I am hereby committing to not mess with it further EXCEPT to smooth over those little rough patches. it could be better. it could maybe be a lot better if I had another week. but it’ll have to do for now. and I am hoping that even if the prose does not SING it still does a competent enough job of laying out my qualifications for the role. like I think I would probably read this and put myself in the “to interview” pile. I hope.
I did some more work on the teaching statement and I think I am moving in the right direction, but I still just feel kinda all over the place about it. I have so many thoughts and beliefs about teaching that have taken shape over so many years BUT I have also been away from classroom instruction for long enough that I don’t have a ton of super specific examples or attention-grabbing anecdotes right at my fingertips anymore. so I’m worried that the teaching statement is reading too “head in the clouds” and not enough “feet on the ground” right now just because like, idk, my mind has still been churning over these topics but my feet have been planted firmly in admin world for the last five years. but I think I just have to like. do my best and not drive myself crazy trying to remember exactly how I taught a freshman comp class nine years ago or whatever. like if I focus on describing the building blocks of my pedagogy in nuanced, thoughtful ways I hope that that will be enough to convince them that I’m going to be able to jump back right back in and figure it out.
the diversity statement… god it needs a lot of reframing work and polishing. god it’s kind of a mess and now I am kind of freaking out about that because I don’t have enough days to produce polished drafts of these many pieces!!!!!! but I think this is ultimately going to be an easier document to finish than the teaching statement, so I wonder if I should really focus in on this one tomorrow and try to get 90% done by the end of the day (similar to what I did with the cover letter today).
resume: did nothing new here today good lord. I need to set a timer for 15 min each day for the next three days and just get it done in that time. don’t fucking overthink it.
okay. god. and I also have to tutor multiple times this weekend AND take care of the baby lol I am going to actually die. but let’s see.
saturday:
6:30-8:30 morning routine and shower
8:30-9:30 RH tutoring while the baby naps
9:30-12 work on the diversity statement while his sitter is here
12-1 AH tutoring
1-6 hang out with the baby (I should have one final short nap window so maybe I can work on the resume in that time)
6-9 get diversity statement to 90% done
sunday:
8-9 work on materials while the baby sleeps
9-10 hang out with the baby
10-11 MP tutoring
11-1 work on teaching statement while his sitter is here (I can maybe beg her to stay longer it’s just so expensive)
1-6 baby time
6-9 work on teaching statement
monday: I did not request time off because I am irrationally afraid of getting in trouble for taking PTO after maternity leave, and now I feel like it is too late to request to be OOO. but we will see how unhinged I feel on sunday night.
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theprurientside · 1 year ago
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Thursday afternoon
I shut down my Twitter account back in April of 2022. My stated reason at the time involved Elon's initial announcement of the takeover - I wanted nothing to do with anything of his even back then - but past that I was deeply tired of it anyway. That sort of short-form text-based social media service was and is dissonant, shallow, and above all mentally exhausting.
It was with this in mind that I momentarily hesitated to sign up for Threads when it was introduced last year, but I eventually said Why Not This Might Be Fun Again, and so I'm account number three million and something. And an invite to Bluesky from some fellow ex-Twitter FVSMs (Friends Via Social Media, a term I just invented but which really should exist) eventually followed.
If either is not quite as bad as Twitter, even in its pre-X pre-right-wing-horrorsphere incarnation, neither is still healthy.
The human mind is not built for social media, certainly not that kind. We prefer a certain logical flow, or at least a series of concepts within defined parameters. (This place still works pretty well in that respect. So does Instagram, although my Black friend down in Atlanta reports a far more dispiriting experience lately.) But the kind of chaos that Threads and Bluesky deliver serves only to absolutely drain life and energy in an attempt to follow and respond appropriately.
So I wonder if those aren't a fair part of what's been wrong for the past near-year, if not for a near year before that. That part is a little easier to understand.
Word to anyone who doesn't live to make their LinkedIn profile look as shiny as possible (and dear God is that a whole different pit of despair as far as social media is concerned): there are certain things that you will take on in your professional life that will not work. This unfortunate situation is as unforeseeable as it is unpreventable. It just turns out that way.
Like this: Summer of 2022 I'm called into the Provost's office and asked to take over a smallish but well-regarded program on campus. Sure, I said cheerfully, I'd be happy to do it and wow thanks for the raise and all that and this will be a perfect way to build my admin credentials and this should be great because (and I distinctly remember saying this out loud) that program pretty much runs itself.
The program does not run itself, and my attempt to run it since that day has been an ongoing fiasco. It's too much, I have other very important things happening, life is a mess, and so on until I'm walking around looking utterly dazed.
To all you: It doesn't have to be like that! Herewith, five rules of program management:
Know your people. Maybe don't pick the introverted and very obviously (if undiagnosed) ADHDish guy to run a program that requires plenty of outreach and contact and day-to-day organization, on top of that person running the biggest academic department on campus.
Smooth program handover is important! Don't pick your new program leader two weeks before the current leader takes an admittedly well-earned two-month vacation back to her homeland halfway around the world and goes completely dark.
Change one thing at a time. Don't add too many new administrative complexities at once, like formal program agreements between participating institutions (many) and individual consent forms for each participant (hundreds). Process implementation is important.
Manage growth. It's not easy or healthy to have your program double in size within a year especially if your program leader still feels like he's two months behind with the old group and those extra administrative processes.
Be flexible in staffing. If your program leader visibly looks both crushed and bewildered and keeps dropping hints about wanting to disappear, it may be useful to have discussions about what is best. You'd be surprised at how agreeable this person may be!
So yeah.
Plus the mental processing in the aftermath of the second motorcycle theft (and this one has totally disappeared from the face of the Earth), plus the new baby and a toddler on an exponential learning track, plus [waving arms around at the insane state of the world]. Sigh.
It hasn't been a fun year and a half or so. My audacious success at getting in shape has backslid pretty much to point zero, a matter not helped by knee surgery last September. (Can I say this sincerely?: I miss running. Badly.) I can barely stay awake through the three-year-old's evening dose of Mickey Mouse cartoons. Trying to get regular and gratifying physical relations going with a post-baby A has been a fraught process for both of us with no guarantee of reliable anything and almost accidental cases where it's been good.
There are answers out there. Getting out from underneath that insane program is one, and that's in process; getting back into everything I want to do for the department is another. Someone somewhere was asking about a plan for staying in shape after 50 and I still think I totally nailed it when I said "bicycles, moderate dumbbells, Mediterranean diet, and lots of sex", and that actually is the current outline. Oh, and on that note if I don't ditch those two accounts then I should at least mostly forget they exist. (I really do have to check Facebook for the first time in a few years someday soon, though.)
It'll be better. It was before. It's just getting back there again - and then past it.
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hurricaneonanesthesia · 4 years ago
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Can I get uhhhh…. M!Byleth, Edelgard, Linhardt, Bernadetta, and Hilda reuniting with their fem S/O after the timskip?
Hi nonny! Admin Hurricane here. This is very delayed and I'm so, so sorry. School has been kicking my ass, but I’ll be more than happy to do this! I hope you like it!! Spoiler alert if you haven’t gotten to the time skip portion of FE3H!
M!Byleth
We all know that Byleth is already a fairly unemotional person, but when he sees you he can’t help but freeze up
He was asleep for so long, but seeing you completely different than five years previously makes him realize how long he was actually gone for
If you had gone through something terrible during the time skip, he’ll apologize for not being there for you
Spends time catching up with you, maybe even sparring a bit to see how your skills have improved in the past 5 years.
He’ll make sure you don’t stay up too late doing anything cause his teacher instincts are kicking in
Edelgard
She’s lost so many people because of the war, but when she sees you it's almost as if time stops and the two of you are the only people in the whole world.
The first time she sees you, she freezes, drops everything she's doing regardless of the importance and races over to pull you into her embrace. In that moment you’re everything that matters to her and she doesn’t care what people may think or say.
Of course the Black Eagle Strike Force is happy to see you and Hubert is pleased to see that Edel’s much happier than before even though he advised against the relationship but shush Hubie <3
On nights that the two of you spend together alone are comforting for El cause she can pretend that she’s not Emperor Hresvelg and that the entire war is riding on her and the professor’s shoulders. Nope it’s just you and her, a happy couple with no worries
Lindhardt
He’s not one to have his emotions on full display. He’s the type of person to pretend like your absence didn’t bother him greatly, but in reality we know he’s very bothered by it.
Someone of few words, Lin prefers to show his actions rather than smother you in affection, this is oftentimes in the form of keeping you close by
He’ll never admit how much he truly missed you, if you ever question him he’ll brush you off lmaoo
Bernadetta
Ah Bernie.
She panicked when she saw you again. One thing being her panicking over what she should say to you, and two being she missed you so badly that she can’t form words and then proceeds to run away and lock herself away in her room.
She’s ashamed that she hadn’t been looking for you during the war, focused on the efforts and supporting Edelgard.
It takes a lot of coaxing and reassuring from your end and from the professor to convince her that you don’t hate her.
When she finally comes out, she’ll hide behind something because she’s scared you’re gonna be mad at her even though you’ve already told her multiple times that you aren’t mad and that you just miss her :( trauma’s a bitch
Try your best! Bernie’s doing a lot better cause she’s more confident than before. But when it comes to you, she’s a stuttering, blushing mess
Hilda
She’s put up this front that nothing bothered throughout the whole war. But like El as soon as she sees you, her facade crumbles a bit and she races towards you and pulls you into a bone crushing hug, lifting you off the ground we stan stronk hilda 😌
You kinda just awkwardly pat her cause she’s hugging you so tight you’re seeing stars.
She definitely keeps you by her side, if not then at the very least in her eyesight. Claude made fun of her to which she almost beat his ass for it.
But overall Hilda might be a bit more protective over you because she’s already lost you once and she can’t bear the idea of losing you again.
Want more of my writing? Be sure to check out my masterlist :)
If you wanna request something, don’t be afraid to send something my way! Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!
Wanna know what else I’ll write for? Here you go! Just be sure to read the requesting rules before you send anything in.
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orreanintrepidness · 2 years ago
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It was quiet in Realgam, for once, in the previous weeks, nothing but the constant rushing of feet could be heard, thanks to the state Orre was in. Peaceful certainly wasn't the atmosphere, however, as a pair of heavy boots disturbed that quiet, slowly pacing towards somewhere. Then the sound of an automated door...
And then finally, silence, once again, for a moment.
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In truth, those boots belonged to Alistair, and he'd just entered what had been dubbed, quite hastily, as the 'war room'. In truth, it was just a guest room, with a table in the centre lacking any seats whatsoever
He was followed shortly thereafter by another set of boots, a little heavier than his own, and another redhead stepped in. Alistair's right hand, one of Orre's elite four, Matthew Byrne, he stood a fair bit taller than the champion he followed, and before long, they stood at opposing ends of that table, silence still unbroken, for a few moments more.
"So, it looks like we finally might have this in the bag?"
Matthew was the one to break the silence, which visibly displeased Alistair, a look of great irritation forming upon his face as the other spoke.
"We had this in the bag before it even began."
Matthew was equally displeased with the response he got, but it was one he was used to, it was similar enough to the ones Alistair always gave him back when they were both Snagem admins, though, it was arguable that they still were in a way.
"I don't call having to demolish half a city and then having Pyrite change hands six times having it in the bag. But, what can I expect, our boys went from being street thugs to Orre's military overnight."
The scowl on Alistair's face grew, that implied things he so vehemently denied this entire time. To suggest his league staff were a continuation of Snagem always was a rather sour subject for him.
"We aren't a fucking gang, you need to stop actin' like this is still the same game we ran five years ago. But yes, they did become that overnight. We've gone from scrap trucks to restorin' all the old equipment from the last war the other regions dumped in our fuckin' desert. And all this equipment, we aren't a fuckin' milita anymore, no. We're clearly the legitimate force here now, the legitimate government even."
Alistair paused for a moment, brushing hair from the right side of his face. Even with the eye gone, instinct still had him avoid covering where the eye once was.
"We've come a long way in a short time. Weeks ago, we were fuckin' roamin' this dustbowl with heaps of scrap, now its all top 'o the range shit. Sure, maybe a little out of date in comparison to the other regions, but compared to where we were? Orre just jumped forward at least a decade, at least in regards to hardware of that sort. Not to mention the success of the dusk project. In time, we'll have enough energy to power every region in the world, all to our fuckin' selves. Not even Devon, or macro cosmos, or fucking AETHER has managed to create a source of infinite energy successfully. Yet here we are..."
Another pause. This time matthew spoke up.
"A bunch of idiots in the desert with something that does exactly that..."
Those words were met with a nod. Before Alistair added on.
"Something that does exactly that and so, so much more. That dusk engine I prepared for the airship is ready, yes?"
Matthew gave a much, much more hesitant nod. As though he knew the intense gravity of what that meant.
"Yeah... yeah, it's ready. Fitted to one of the jets yesterday morning. On that note though... You've spent a fair bit of time in that simulator we found a few months back. What's with that?"
The response was swift, and blunt.
"I intend to make the delivery myself."
Alistair was growing irritable again. A constant, aggravated banging on the table becoming more and more noticeable.
"If anyone, ANYONE, is putting an end to this... it's me. And that's not for discussion, this mess... it needs to end now. We can't keep this up, and we need to get Orre back towards moving forwards, we've got all the shit from those rich fuckheads we drove outta Phenac after all... we can build roads, hell, new cities. Everything is proceeding as planned... perfectly."
Those were the last words Alistair spoke. The pair just remained for a moment. As if there was a specific subject being avoided, but to no avail. Before long. Alistair drifted from the table, sluggishly taking his leave from the room, heading to wherever it was he often skulked off to.
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anonymousbeefriendfanfics · 4 years ago
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How do you think Last Legacy characters would play Minecraft?
Hmmm, interesting question! Let's find out, shall we? :)
Last Legacy Cast Playing Minecraft
Felix
Wizard Boy leans into the Wizard Aesthetic, shocking.
This man absolutely lives in a gigantic tower/castle.
He would enjoy the designing part of the game. I think it's relaxing for him to just be able to go worry about nothing but building whatever his heart desires for hours at a time.
Definitely plays in creative most of the time. Has an entire village he's been working on for years. It has a lot of different building styles and aesthetics and most of the buildings are only half-finished but eh, it's fun.
Joins a server because his friends pestered him into it and immediately decides to have fun with it. Becomes that weird wizard dude.
Lives in a huuuuge tower, in the middle of a dense forest/swamp. Definitely has a moat. Has various traps and hidden doors throughout the bottom half of the tower. Stunning place, though, looks very mystical and ancient.
Has the best enchanting area in the entire server, and he made sure of this. I mean the man went through some serious effort here.
Also has an entire level of his tower dedicated to potions. Can brew so many at once. Has an entire wall lined with chests that he keeps all of them in. Almost always has them in stock.
He did all of this hard work so he wouldn't have to do any work. He's made the tower borderline impenetrable, but he can teleport to the top of it. Barters with people using his magic. Makes you bring him whatever he needs before he'll either teleport you up into his tower or get you what you need himself
Mostly spends his time in creative and pops on there whenever someone messages him and tells him he's needed.
Has a black and white cat that follows him around. Doesn't know how it got there, he never tamed it. Doesn't matter what world he's in, the cat spawns in with him and is functionally immortal.
Sage
Chaotic boy is chaotic.
PVP master. Ish. He's not unbeatable, but he's really strong.
Works hard to get himself the best gear. Has a monster farm near his base to get all the experience.
He has an enchanting table but literally never uses it because he has like, three bookshelves and he always just goes to Felix
Plays on a server 90% of the time and is that chaotic idiot who will break into your base and steal your stuff, maybe break it/burn it down in the process.
Won't kill animals. Even if he burns your base down he'll painstakingly shove your dog outside and give it a bone or five before he leaves.
Look this man has an unreasonable amount of pet stuff okay. Always has bones and fish, if nothing else. If you have a pet and he steals from you, he'll leave those in the place of what he took.
He has a literal army of dogs and if you mess with them oh, there will be war.
Has a secret account on the same server where he does as much good as he possibly can for the community. Whenever he's feeling down he logs on and runs around helping people out because their praise makes him feel much better :)
Yes, his minecraft skin has the ears & tail. His friends joke that you can summon him using fish, bones, and/or weapons. They did it once at his house as a joke because they were bored and he happened to log in, so now everyone is solidly convinced that it works.
Anisa
Probably the server admin.
She enjoys the worldbuilding but she primarily focuses on keeping everything running smoothly.
She's the one who makes and enforces all of the rules.
Enjoys running around in creative mode, mostly because Sage tries to kill her on sight purely to mess with her.
She's a pretty good fighter when it comes down to it, but Sage can beat her because he's mastered the PVP in this game. Doesn't matter when she has access to commands that can instakill him, so she still comes out on top most of the time.
Literally ventured off to the corner of the map once and built some kind of huge maze prison thing, and has taken to teleporting Sage or anyone else who bothers her there. Have fun :)
Needs to relax honestly, c'mon Annie.
Has a little farm that she tends to relax, and will sell or trade her goods to the others in the server.
Don't mess with her. Seriously. Sage and Rime burned her house down once as a prank and they was banned from the server for a solid month before she decided they'd apologized enough to rejoin.
Probably really good at the fancy coding stuff. Uses redstone. Might have even made a couple of mods. Made one mod specifically to launch Sage to the other side of the map if he sets foot on her property, even when she's offline.
Rime
Also chaos incarnate.
If your base gets robbed or destroyed it was probably either him or Sage, who knows? Has also started leaving bones and fish or whatever just so he can pin it on Sage.
Has a perpetual rivalry going with Sage and several other people. Endless prank wars.
Rime is really good at making traps and will spend so, so much time in the dead of night when he knows Sage is asleep booby-trapping his house so that as soon as he takes a step or opens a door or something the whole place explodes
He's the type to mass-produce T&T. Literally went to the End just to get himself a shulker box or two to keep them all in because he isn't dumb enough to just leave them in chests.
He isn't as good of a fighter as most of the others but he's absolutely ruthless. Keeps well stocked with potions. His favorite are the invisibility potions, because he can just disappear and stab you a bunch until you die.
Rime is 100% that weirdo who has a base that isn't in the main world. I think he'd choose the nether over the end, for the sheer aesthetics. He also has a suuuuper fancy base though, and several animals that no one is quite sure how he managed to get over there.
It's like home alone near there though so watch out man. Rime has enemies and he knows it.
He's had several alternate accounts where he tries to be a Nice Good Member of Society but he somehow always gets caught. It's just so obvious that it's him. He's too chaotic to disguise himself that well.
Has a secret creative world where he plays around to relax. Builds stuff if he feels like it, raises animals... happy lil deer farmer boy.
Elowen
Elowen is also in on the rivalry, though she's a little less aggressive about it. For the most part she lets Rime and Sage fight it out, often meddling in the chaos. She'll play pranks on one or both of them in the style of the other to spark more drama to watch.
She occasionally teams up with either Sage or Rime just for fun. Sometimes she'll team up with Anisa and/or Felix to take them both down at once, when they've gotten especially annoying.
Is the one person who can best Sage at PVP every time, and she takes pride in this. She's honestly not even as powerful as he is, she's just a really good fighter and she knows his weaknesses.
Not a big fan of farming. She prefers to just hunt animals for her food or barter with others. Is often paid in food for her assistance in fights.
Has a secret base deep in the end somewhere, well-hidden and protected. She knows the people she's playing with far too well, and prefers to keep the important stuff on her so it won't get stolen.
She also hides her things. She'll wander off to the middle of nowhere, dig deep down and bury a chest, then write down the coordinates alongside what she buried in a physical notebook. It's rather inconvenient if she needs them immediately, but she actually possesses the most valuable resources simply because they aren't continuously being stolen or destroyed in the endless prank war.
Tulsi
Tulsi is a builder. 110%. She has a massive plot of land that she's claimed away from the main hub of the server, and she spends her time gathering resources and making the most impressive things people have ever seen.
Her base is beautiful, and ridiculously elaborate. She spent way too much time swimming in the nearest body of water, hunting for specific fish to stick in the gigantic aquarium she has in her living room.
The woman has a zoo. She built unique enclosures for all the different animals. Charges admission to get in and visit them. It's not much, and she'll accept all kinds of things as currency, from your standard diamonds to building materials. If you capture a rare animal for her, you have a free pass for life.
She's the most respected person on the server, and the only one immune from the prank war. It's an unspoken rule of the server that no one is to mess with Tulsi. Her buildings are too beautiful to destroy, and she has so much time invested in them. Plus, she often builds things for others, and she makes the server prettier by installing paths and such and building up a little downtown area for shops and the like.
Sage occasionally messes with her from time to time, but he's extremely careful to never do any actual damage-- once he spent an hour rearranging all of the supplies in her massive chest room. Another time he stole the animal she'd just spent so much time and effort getting, only to return it the next day as if nothing had happened. He's also flooded her animal enclosures and builds with common animals, often bunnies, though he's used cats and chickens before as well. He's the only one allowed to do this because he's her brother, and she always gets him back for it.
I know you'd think that she'd be in the weapon business in minecraft as well, but I don't think so. She tried it once. It's too boring for her, making the exact same things every single time, and just throwing different enchantments on them... no. The reason she enjoys her work so much is because she gets to make something, and every one of her pieces is unique and wonderful. The best way that translates into minecraft is building, because she gets to put her creativity skills to the test. Plus, it takes so much time, especially on survival worlds, and the woman has the patience of a saint.
Anisa gave her the ability to use creative mode, because she can be trusted not to abuse it, and it'll let Tulsi build so much more easily. Plus it means she can fly away from the idiocy.
Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open!  Tag List 🐝 @krae16 @frozen-daydream @mako-bones @saintkastillian @soiled-snowflake @bananacockatiel @pst-02 @velleitxs
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bangbangchanie · 4 years ago
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Maybe~Chan/ Changbin
Summary: When the love of your life died, falling again is paralyzing yet the person who's always been there makes it a maybe.
Paring: Reader x Chan(Past)/ Reader x Changbin
Warning: Character death, like angst really angst. Fluff
Word Count: 3.2K
AN: Admin Winnie here! Finally reposting this after removing a certain someone. Its the same sad story just with Changbin:)
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Arms were tightly wrapped around your waist as your eyes stared at the scene in front of you. Red and blue lights flashing in the dark night sky as smoke and a blaring ringing sound echoes through your ears. You didn't realize you were screaming, screaming out his name as you saw his mangled car. Your knees buckled as the EMT who was holding you fell with you.
“Christopher!” You sobbed. His eyes were watching you from the scene, his body moving across the road.
“Baby, are you okay?” He asks as he reaches mid way as you cry his name again. “Baby, Y/n I’m right in front of yo-” he was cut off from talking and walking when someone walked through him. Your cries grew distant as he looked at his chest, his eyes wide as he looked back to the car. His bleeding body was being dragged from the car, as CEPR was being performed. It felt surreal, watching his limp body move with someone’s pushed against his chest. He brought out his thoughts when your cry turned into a scream of pain. His eyes met your crumbling body, he moved to you. His hand reaching out to only have it pass through your face making you curse.
“I’m here, baby, right in front of you. I swear I’m not leaving, not now, not ever.” He whispered tears trailing down his face as you finally stopped screaming his name and just cried. “I’m still here.”
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“Chris..Chris was the life of the party even if there wasn’t one.” Minho said as he shook his head a small smile lifted up on his lips, though his smile was painfully matched with swollen red bloodshot eyes. His cheeks puffy as you stood in all black in your shared apartment. “He did this thing where if it was too quiet he’d just start singing a random ass song and dancing. You know? He..he always tried to find the light in the dullest things, and he always…he always made me feel..us feel like we were…are bigger than this.” His eyes tailored to your hunched body, your eyes dull as you give him a small smile, tears trailing down your face as his mother grips your hand. Her sobs wracked her body as Minho looked at the glass in his hand. “Y/n..Mr. and Mrs. Bang..Chris…god he was a special man. I am so thankful you two gave him a life and a voice..and Y/n thank you for making him smile when no one else could…this is for you brother.” Chris was next to you and his mother, his eyes tearing up as he watched Minho turn around and let out a small sob as he walked away. Changbin stepped up, his skin pasty and his eyes just as bloodshot.
“We met in the second grade..he was new and had this accent that kids liked to make fun of. But he never saw it as a set back, and took it as a complement…he..fuck.” Changbin stopped speaking as he wiped his eyes. “I..I was told a month ago that he was..was looking for a ring.” He paused, making you stop breathing for a split second as you leaned closer to his mother, your heart clenching as Changbin looked at you. “I was told to prepare a speech as best man, that who I was to Chris and who he was to me. He was..and still is my brother. A man I want to scream at because he left us. He left me. With a speech, and no event to give it at. I wanted to give it here, but I can’t because it hurts too much. I’m so sorry Y/n..” Changbin coughs as he steps away as you wipe at your face. You take a shaky breath as you stand. His brother is clinging to your hand as Chris watches you, moving to stand to your blank side.
“Thank you all for coming..I know..I know Chris would scream at us all for crying like this.” Your words made his mother choke back a cry as his father rubbed her shoulder. “He didn't like it when the people he loved were upset, or cried. He didn’t enjoy not know-knowing how to fix..fix it all.” You breathed out as you messed with your black dress. “He loved with his whole heart…we all know that. He did..he did this weird habit that I still don’t understand and I was with him for four years..but where’d he grab the bottom of his shirt and spread it out in front of him when he was in deep thought.” His mother chuckled as she shook her head.
“He stretched every single one of his school shirts.” She said, making the room lightly laugh as you look at Changbin and Minho who clang to each other, their trio now turning into a duo.
“We love you Chris..I love you.” You whisper as you sit back down, people now talking among one another as you swear you feel a wetness drop on your shoulder where his head hangs over as he tries to imagine his arms around you.
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“Honestly fuck you Christopher Bang!” You scratched at the broken picture frame. Your eyes were full of tears as you looked out the window. People living their lives, unknowingly passing the house of a broken girl that had black running down her face and it pissed you off that they didn’t know.
His scent was still wrapped around you, around the four walls of the apartment you shared together. His clothes still hung up in the clothes, and tossed outside of a drawer. His pillow at the end of the bed and his shoes resting against the front door wall.
“I hate you so much!” Your voice cracked as you fell to the hardwood ground. His large sweater falls over your hands as you bring your knees to your chest and sob into them. “Yo-you just left, n-no good-goodbye n-no an-anything.” You cried tears falling down as you rocked back and forth. The pain in your chest was breaking you down, shattering against any idea of love you had any future you planned together. You swear you heard his voice making you perk up and look around, the shuffling of his pillow made you stand up and wipe your cheeks. “Chris?” You whispered as you watched the bed dip.
“Y/n?” Changbin called out as he slowly set the key he had been given when you and Christopher had moved in. He was the security blanket for you two, always making sure you were sleeping, and eating. Killed the bug for the both of you, and watched the place as you traveled. “Oh Y/n.” He whispered seeing you down the hall in the bedroom. He walked down as you keep your eyes locked on the pillow, a dip in the bed that wasn’t there before. Your heart stopped as an arm wrapped around your middle, making you blink, and the dip in the bed was gone. “Come on, let me make you some hot chocolate.” He whispered against your hair as he pulled away and took your hand. His own body was covered in one of Christopher’s jackets. His body moved throughout the kitchen. “A month down.” He whispers, making you sigh as you let out another sob as your head falls.
“I-i miss him so fucking much.” You sob, making Changbin stop moving as he turns and looks at you. “Th-this isn't fair, we-we were gonna move into a house.” You whisper, making Changbin face you his mouth parted at the new information. “My love, my hero ,my everything was ripped for me…and it’s all his fault.” You sob, making Woojin jump into your body, his arm tightly wrapped around you as your body shakes.
“It's gonna be okay…it's gonna get easier..I think.”
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“What the fuck did you do to our bed?!” You scream at Minho and Changbin  who were standing in the living room talking.
“What do you mean? I mean I made it-ow!” Minho cried as you slapped him. Tears falling down your face as you glare at him.
“His pillow stays where it was, his blanket stays bunched up..I can't recreate it, because it won't be the damm same! You asshole!” You cry as you start to shake as Minho's eyes widen. Not realizing it hadn't made sense he last laid there.
“I did-didn't know.” Your body shook as Chan finally found a way to hug you without passing through you. His head nuzzles your neck making you cry harder.
“Im..I’m sorry.” You whisper, making Minho step forward and cup your cheek.
“It's okay.” Chris moves away and Minho and you share a group hug with Woojin.
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“Chris..I know this..this is weird.” You mumble as Chris sits next you on the bed, his hands reaching for your thigh as you let out a deep breath of air. “This is honestly crazy..but I just need you to know..what I said a few weeks ago..that it was your fault..it..it wasn't true..and when I screamed I hate you..it wasn't even close to the truth. Because…'cause you were..were the one and..I still need you here but you gone..and I took it personal…but death shouldn’t be personal.” You whisper, making him lightly smile as you take a deep breath. “I think..I think I’m gonna pack up some of your clothes.. give a few to your mom. They all smell like you.” You whisper as you reach for your phone and call up his mom for help.
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“Are you sure you're ready for this?” He asked as he watched you pack some of his shirts and pants for goodwill.
“Yeah..it's been nine months..I need to do this..it's not a lot..but..a start?” You mumble making Minho nod as he helps you empty one draw of his. “Okay..no more.”
“Progress.”
“Progress.” Giving each other a high five Chris chuckles as Minho misses making you laugh echo in return. Something Chris hasn’t heard in months.
Progress it was.
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“Binnie!” You laughed as Changbin spun you around your living room, his hand tickling your sides as Chris watched, a ping of jealousy hitting him. But he understood, watching you and his friends the past few months, the feeling for Changbin had grown for you and you him.
He wanted you two happy.
So he came up with a plan, his spirit moved through the walls as he grabbed your journal and opened up to your most recent entry. His eyes scan the words.
'I haven’t felt this way about someone since I first met Chris..and it feels wrong but so right at the same time. Changbin had made this feeling come up that I thought I’d never feel again. And it’s scary. I don't know if I can handle losing someone again.’
And then he knocks a picture frame down making a loud crash disrupt the two of you messing around. Changbin stood up straight as he placed you close to the couch and looked down the hall.
“Wait here."he mumbled walking into your bedroom, where he looked around till a picture frame that he glued together from the time you’d throw it across the room in a fit of anger, caught his eyes. It was a picture of Chris smiling, his eyes bright as your lips pressed against his cheek. It made Changbin smile as he saw the man he considered his brother, he hadn’t looked at a photo of him in a year, it felt good. It felt good seeing his face again, even if it would never be the same. It was still Christopher Bang smiling, and he swore he could hear the hum sound he made while you kissed his cheek.
As he moved it back where he remembered where he placed it after he fixed it. His eyes casted down and he saw your entry, and his heart began to speed up.
"She..she feels the same?” He whispered to himself, making Chris smile as he stood next to him and spoke.
“Of course she does, you make her happy.” Changbin jumped as he felt the vibrations of a voice he knew all too well in his head. “Can you hear me?” Chris said, making Changbin look around, and nod slightly.
“Bin? Is everything okay?” You ask walking into your room seeing the frame in his hand, his wide eyes stare at you.
“Uh..yeah.” he chokes as he runs his hand down his face. “Yeah..just this picture fell.” You humm as you move to stand next to him and stare at the two of you, tears gather in your eyes making Chris reach to wipe it away as he did so Changbin. He smiled at his friend as he watched the two of you stare at each other.
“Oh..shit.” you whisper seeing your entry that was open as you move fast to shut it. Already having an idea that he knew and now was ready to leave and never come back.“Did you..”
“Yeah. Yeah I did.”
“I think..I think you should go.” You whisper, making Changbin frown as he moves to rest and hand on your shoulder but you shrugged to get away from him. “Just..just leave..please.”
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“Y/n, please call me back. We need to talk..please.” You listened to your voicemail again, Changbin pleas only made your heart break more.
“Dammit women, call him back!” Chris snaps as he watches you bite your lip. His favorite sweater wrapped around you, making his dead heart thud rapidly against his chest. Then his own voice travels through the air making his eyes widen. “Why do you do this to yourself, baby?”
“Hey baby, I just wanted to call to let you know I’ll be outside of the building waiting for you in five…I know I’m too late to change but I think my office attire will work for the date..I know you’ll look beautiful as usual..hence why you’re probably not answering me! But it's fine,I love you..I’ll see you in a bit.” You play another one, “Baby! Changbin just dropped off food, I swear he’d be a better boyfriend than me like how he is his single! Anyway I just wanted to call and say I love you, and have an amazing day at work!” As you went to play another you phone began to glitch due to Chris being the playfully smart ghost he is, and found a way to only play the part he wanted you to hear. “I love you, but it's fine you like Changbin.” It was choppy and wasn’t even a proper sentence but it made you throw your phone onto the bed as you stare at it. It played again, and again as Chris watched your eyes widen.
“Christopher Bang I swear if this you are coming to haunt my ass I’ll find a way to bring you back and kill you again!” You whisper, making him chuckle, your eyes snap to the empty spot in front of you, where he sat. “I..I finally broke didn’t I..cause I did..I did not just hear that laugh.” You whimper, making him frown as he looks at you. “I’ve missed that laugh.” You breathe out making him giggle, a smile lifting on your cheeks as your phone rings pulling you out of your thoughts.
Binnie is calling.
“Pick it up.” Chris said, making you roll your lip as you hear the very faint vibrations, like he was talking while you rested your head on his chest.
“Hello?” You answer by making Woojin let out a breath as he begins to speak but you cut him off. “I..I like you.”
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“I haven’t been here since the funeral.” You whisper walking hand and hand with Changbin, followers and balloons in hand as Chris' family walks in front of you. It was his birthday today. You somehow had gotten through the first one, tears and snot but this one..this one was easier in a way. Chris trailed next to the two of you as he watched you closely, the twinkle in your eye was back, Changbin's smile was bigger than ever.
Soon you reached his tombstone, bending down your smile, “Hi baby.” You whisper as Chris sits next to his name, you sit on the grass as his family sits on the bench next to his grave. Changbin sits behind you, over the last few months Chris' family has fully supported you two with the love that was twining the two of you. You place the flowers next to his name and lean against Changbin. “Happy birthday weirdo.” You mumble, making Changbin laugh as Minho arrives, his body moving to sit next to the two of you as he hits a card in his hand. “What’s that Min?” You ask.
“I….just a letter to my brother.” Minho says, making you nod as he places it next to your flowers, Chris smiles at his friends and family.
“What do you think he's doing right now?”
“About to fight Changbin.” Minho says with a smile, making Chris' mother laugh as she shakes her head.
“Idiot.” Changbin said, hitting his shoulder as he laughed and nuzzled his face into your shoulder.
“I..I hope he’s happy wherever he is. I hope he is at peace and that…that he isn’t actually haunting me.” You laugh, making Chris follow as Changbin nods and Minho and his family giggle. “I mean he said, if he ever died he’d haunt me so I’m wondering if it’s happening.” You said wiping the tear that fell down your cheek.
“I wonder if he can finally sit in peace and enjoy the quiet sunsets.” Minho mumbles, making the three of you look at eachother and break out in laughter.
“As if.” Changbin laughs as you place your head into his collarbone.
“I just want him to be happy.”
“I am happy..I think..I think I can leave now.” Chris mumbles to himself, another Ghost at the tree waiting with a smile on his face, freckles covering his cheeks as his fringe falls over his eyes.“I..I can let go now. Baby..baby I ..I love you so much. I know you won't hear this, I know you won’t..but I just..I just love you so much. I’m so happy you’re happy. Thank you for the birthday wishes…I love you guys.” He stood up and walked to the tree, the unknown ghost smiled and clapped him on the back.
“Are you ready for the fun part kid?” He asks, making Chris look at him with wide eyes.
“Will..will I see them again?” His question made the unknown ghost chuckle as he laughed.
“Ah you kids, never truly know what’s out there for us…you’ll see them whenever they visit here. You’ll get like a ring in your head, and any gift they leave for you you’ll be able to pick up and keep it.”
“What’s your name?”
“Felix, died 1976, leukemia at 17….you?”
“Christopher…died in 2020, in a car crash at 23.”
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thespoonisvictory · 4 years ago
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this one’s for any east coast people up this late and the one person asked me to post it <3
____
The door slammed shut.
"What the fuck was that?"
Long strides, boots slamming against the marble floor, blue capes stretched out behind them.
"No, I'm serious. What the fuck just happened?"
His voice resonated throughout the high ceilings, through the halls. If there was any staff near by, they were about to witness a show.
"Technoblade. Phil." Wilbur's voice took on a pleading edge, trying desperately to catch up with the pair as they strode away. "Please. Just tell me what's going on."
But still, they remained silent, and a burst of rage shot through him. "Ok then. You're going to have to walk a hell of a lot faster if you want to outrun me.” He felt nauseous. “You better be chugging speed fucking III if you want to get away now."
His head hurt, and he dimly remembered that he had never gotten the chance to eat breakfast before being interrupted.
He'd barely had time to get dressed, actually; not five minutes after he'd finished brushing his hair had the message arrived.
"Every fucking district leader. Server admins, for God's sake." Wilbur called after them, to no avail. "A little warning would've been nice before you ruined everything I've been working towards.
"How could you possibly be so stupid, to do what you just did? Really. Tell me."
At this, Techno whirled around, pink braid slicing the air. He stopped dead in his tracks, and for the first moment in a long time, Wilbur was afraid of him. He hadn't expected his provoking to work, if he was honest. Nothing else had.
"We did what had to be done, Wilbur. It was necessary." 
Besides him, Phil had stopped too, but his back remained turned. Good.
Wilbur took a step forward, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Necessary? In what world was that necessary?"
Techno scoffed, throwing a hand out in an exaggerated gesture. "You heard the reports. Riots, Wilbur. People in the streets. It was gettin' dangerous, and we didn't want a coup on our hands."
"Unbelievable." He dragged a hand over his face. "I can't believe that the brave Technoblade allowed himself to drag an entire country down because he was afraid of some hungry citizens."
"What would you suggest we did, then? Wait until they had toppled the thrones and burnt our buildings to react? Huh?" 
Another step forward. "I don't know! But you never gave me the chance to figure it out, did you? We could've talked to the leaders, figured something out." Wilbur prayed his voice wouldn't leave him now, doing his best to keep it together.
"The same ones that would put a knife in our backs if given the chance?" Techno shot back.
Wilbur laughed, exasperated. "I was working on that! And we were getting somewhere until you decided to ruin it all."
"Please."
Techno went to turn around. He yelled after him.
"If Niki were here she'd agree with me. She'd-"
"Well Niki's not here, is she?" Techno stopped again, an eyebrow raised. "If she were, maybe you wouldn't be acting like this." He mocked.
"Oh ho ho, don't you fucking dare, Technoblade." Yet another step, and they were eye to eye, only a few feet apart. "You don't get to joke about this."
About his life, crumbling before him. Months, years even, of work, sunk into the ground. Just the thought of all the letters he'd be writing trying to salvage this mess, made his heart ache.
He wanted, to laugh, or cry maybe. This close to Techno, he was considering throwing a punch.
But as he raised his arm to do so, only half convinced he would do anything at all, another hand caught it.
Phil, glaring at Wilbur, his grip firm and nothing like the paternal touch he was so familiar with. "You know you won't win that fight, mate."
His features hardened, the blond hair Wilbur always wished he shared hanging into his face in strands. He looked every part the warrior who had commanded troops without his knowledge, but with this came the knowing that he also looked like one of his family.
None of it felt real, not when they had been laughing over drinks just last night. Had they known then? Had they prided themselves on just how easily he had fallen for their relaxed demeanor? 
"I don't particularly care at the moment, Philza." He said, hoping the full name would hurt how he wanted it to.
Seemingly, it did, because Phil released his arm, eyes widened. 
"C'mon Techno, let's go."
Before Wilbur could respond, they were walking again, turning the corner in sync.
He yelled one last time. "The people are going to want a trial!" 
But all he received was the echo of his own voice.
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thoughts-on-bangtan · 4 years ago
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Let’s talk: RUN Episode 135
by Admin 1
Today was the conclusion of this episode trilogy and we got to find out who would have to climb Mount Achasan much the same way Namjoon and Tae did a few years ago. The challenge? Each member entered a room one by one and chose one of the cue cards lying on a table (I laughed way more than was probably appropriate at how the PD tried to make them unsure of their card choices just to see what would happen) and based on what was written on the card had to hide a certain object. Once everyone was done, the hunt would begin though the only clue they had to go by was that the objects have something to do with K-pop and Korea.
Right at the start (before choosing their cards) we got Jimin with his hand under Tae’s chin talking about how, while Tae is great at keeping a straight face as he guards someone else's secret, it isn’t the case when its his own.
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Hobi says that Tae will surely try his best today while Jimin points at Tae’s face saying that this is how he smiles when he’s lying. Namjoon adds that it’s a mysterious smile.
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While choosing a card Tae reached out to his angels so they would help him figure out which of the three remaining cards he should choose. His angels said the second or third and, in the end, he decided on the third one, which turned out to be a Yoongi poster much like the ones they had in the after performance pictures at MAMA etc. 
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Another funny one was when JK was choosing his card. At first it wasn’t shown what was actually written on it, but once the hunt began, it was revealed that it was the cue cards which he, at first, decided to simply hide in his pants. Because of course. He even went to the bathroom to check if they were visible when he sat down or stood a certain way. Can we take a moment to talk about how his sweater made him look so big but once he lifted it to hide the cue cards, he was basically like half the size (which I don’t mean in a mean way or anything, just that his clothes were very “misleading” and we all know how JK has a tiny waist, you know?).
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While Seokjin went in to pick up his card (he was last so only one was left), we got to see a conversation happening between the waiting members where Namjoon wondered if they’ll have to go through all the garbage bins. This, of course, made Jimin nervous since he hid his objects (a pair of jipsin) in two garbage bins. And it only got worse when Hobi saying the following: 
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Going back to Seokjin, we got to see that his object was last year’s Season’s Greeting box and honestly, he’s the MVP of this episode because his hiding place for that big box was truly genius. Galaxy brain type genius.
So, once all the objects are hidden the members have 30 minutes to find them. While Namjoon, Seokjin and Tae basically go to the same room, we watch as JK moves about to finally find a place to hide his object without the members noticing it. In the end he goes back to the room they were in for the majority of the episode and hides the cue hards on the PDs desk.
True to his words, Hobi really does check the garbage bins first and, of course, he ends up finding what Jimin hid there. This of course prompts the other members to go check any other garbage bin they come across.
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Next JK, Seokjin and Tae all head up to the second floor where in reality nothing is hidden so they’re basically just wasting their time. Namjoon also finds his way upstairs and ends up finding merely a paper plane which he isn’t sure is one of the objects and yet he still takes it with him just in case, he also makes a mess spilling bedding (?) out of a closet type thing as he searches through it.
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Jimin comes across a dried flower buquet which he decides is suspicious and thinks it might be one of the objects so he goes on to interrogate the other members and to see if they’ll agree with him. And yet, even as he tries to explain that perhaps it could have something to do with Korea, everyone disagrees and Jimin eventually lets the idea go.
Meanwhile Tae decides to check a trapdoor type thing in the ceiling of one of the room he entered with Seokjin, which in turn makes Seokjin nervous since it’s similar to the place where he hid his object. Kim’s sharing a brain cell for checking ceilings.
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We also get Hobi trying to see if the jipsin perhaps belong to Tae, who says no, and then try Seokjin which gives us a moment that immediately reminded me of a Seokjin and Namjoon interaction in the behind the scenes of their Wembley concert where Seokjin is talking to some cameras or something while Namjoon appears next to him and whines about something, I’m not sure what, which leads Seokjin to raise his finger in a silencing manner at Namjoon, since he was interrupting Seokjin, and voila Namjoon did immediately turn silent.
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Hobi giggles and repeats what Seokjin told him while walking off...just to approach Namjoon and ask him of the jipsin maybe belong to him, but Namjoon also says no and how he’s jealous that Hobi managed to find one of the objects.
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JK and Namjoon check the elevator but find nothing though Namjoon notes that one of them could’ve gotten creative while someone else says ‘what a fool that’d be’ while Seokjin overhears them as he walked past the elevator and giggles to himself, pleased.
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But he didn’t realize that Tae was right behind him and picked up on the fact that he giggled (and apparently also the staff?) and thus wondered why, deciding to also check the elevator. And yet, despite being smart with the ceiling before, he does check the elevator a bit more than Namjoon and JK had, but still ends up empty handed.
With five minutes left the PD gives them a hint that one of the objects is rather big so they take off with new energy to find it. Tae walks back into the cafe like room and says that Jimin had cold hands almost as though he’d touched the snow. In that moment we get a flashback to earlier where we get the following:
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Tae reaches for Jimin’s hand and asks him if he went outside since his hands are cold. I’d like for us to note Tae’s thumb on Jimin’s fingers because I’m endeared, as well as the way Jimin looks at Tae told the end of that gif where he says “This is to fool you. Don’t be fooled.” In the background Namjoon suggests that maybe Jimin simply washed his hands instead. Not convinced by just holding his hands to realize that they’re cold, Tae takes Jimin’s hand again and puts it against his cheek, confirming that indeed it is cold and he agrees with Namjoon’s suggestion.
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And yet, in the present, Tae has as though forgotten all about that and is rather sure that Jimin must’ve hidden something outside on the balcony in the snow. At one point the members even follow him outside, intrigued by Tae’s sudden conviction, and yet all it leads to is Namjoon watching him through a tilted window and telling Tae that the director said that nothing was hidden by any of the members outside.
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Not quite convinced Tae asks someone off camera (please can we talk about Tae’s adorable red nose from the cold omg) who also tells him that there’s nothing outside. Tae basically fooled himself. And with that their time runs out and the hunt is over, the members gathering back again in the main room.
The PD asks the question of “Who is the most simple-minded in BTS?” and I was basically howling when Seokjin first laughed mid-sip and then both him and Namjoon turned to each other claiming the other as the most simple-minded. I’d like to very much object since both of them are anything but simple in most ways, as far as we know, but I still appreciate the moment and the shoulder and thigh touching, as well as Seokjin looking cute as he laughs and tries not to spit out his water.
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We also had Jimin being a Namjin enthusiast basically telling (and reenacting with, kinda) Tae about what they just did while seeming very amused and entertained by it. Same, Jimin, same.
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They laugh about that a little more while also pointing out how the maknaes could be very sneaky about their hiding places and eventually Hobi simply decides he’ll “test” every member one by one in a quest to figure out to which of them the jipsin belong. The first one is Tae which gives us a moment that I’ve seen some compare to a “similar” one from back in 2013 or 2014 but personally I don’t particularly think that’s a good memory to associate with this generally just funny moment. But maybe that’s just me.
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Next Hobi tries Jimin, who of course says no and yet turns very much red. Hobi lets him go, but Seokjin remains convinced that it’s Jimin, so even as he stands opposite Hobi and is asked if the jipsin are his, he tries to point at Jimin with his eyes and then, once he’s sitting again, puts his hand over Jimin’s hard to check if he’s lying.
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Even after he checked all the members, Hobi still thinks it’s Seokjin so they have a vote to see whom the majority suspects. Here even Tae votes for Jimin being the owner. But in the end Hobi does choose Jimin, who in turn thinks that maybe it’s all just candid camera and the reason why no other object was found is because he’s the only one who actually hid anything. Which of course isn’t true. The winner of the entire episode trilogy is announce and they receive a box of Bangtan goodies.
Before the episode comes to a close, and we also find out who will go to Mount Achasan, the members are to reveal where they hid their objects. While they are amazed by all the hiding spots, the one that truly blows them away is Seokjin’s, since he quite literally hid his in the ceiling of the elevator. Look at JK’s big eyes of awe and surprise. Awww.
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And with that the episode is over. It was really, really fun, though I think the game was a little too hard. Maybe if everyone knew what objects they are meant to find they actually would’ve been able to find them, but still, it was also fun to watch like this.
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4haechie · 5 years ago
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stuck with you
➵ request: can i request fluff + au #2 + trope #1 "enemies to lovers" + prompt #4 & #19?? thank you 🥰
➵ lee donghyuck x reader | fluff, enemies to lovers au, high school au | 2,760 words | “take off your shirt.” + “can you shut up for just two seconds?”
➵ warnings: cursing and one second of suggestive stuff
➵ a/n: thank u for requesting! i really hope u like it :D i added timestamps to avoid confusion, so this turned out longer than expected oops. if u want a part 2, please let me know!
want to request? check this post out!
present time – thursday, 6:30 p.m. 
you’re starting to wish time machines existed right about now. you’ll do just about anything to go back to two hours ago and avoid this mess.
you glance up at donghyuck, who’s put on his thinking cap apparently, and is trying to come up with a way to get you two the hell out of here. “do you have a hairpin? or a bobby pin?” he asks.
you shake your head, “donghyuck, that only works in movies.”
“y/n, i’m trying to come up with solutions here! or do you wanna live in this tiny janitor’s closet for the rest of your life?” he glares at you.
“if i did, i would’ve chosen someone else to share oxygen with. why would i choose you?” you glare back.
he rolls his eyes, indicating that that conversation is over. “whatever. try calling your friends again. someone must still be at school, right?”
you frown, “donghyuck, we had the student council meeting earlier, remember? that ended at six, and it’s almost six-thirty now. all the sports teams’ practice sessions must’ve ended, too. i’m telling you, it’s just us in school.” you shake a little as if trying to wake up from a crazy dream. no avail.
you’re stuck here–no, wait. someone locked you two in here. you’re going to have to trace back your steps to figure out who.
thursday, 4:00 p.m.
“the weekly student council meeting is in session. today, we’re going to discuss prom! i’ve put up a list on the bulletin board that says who’s going to do what. please take a look at it immediately.” you explained, gazing around the group of students in front of you.
you’re the president and donghyuck is the vice president. you two work together almost every day, you’re in the same classes, you have the same friends. but there’s one minor detail in your guys’ relationship: you two hate each other.
hate might be a bit too strong of a word, but it’s true. you and donghyuck, despite working together and being in the same class since third grade, have never gotten along. maybe it’s your guys’ competitiveness. maybe it’s your strong desire to one-up the other. but as long as you can recall, there hasn’t been a single time when he hasn’t made your blood boil.
anyway, you and donghyuck were in charge of planning your senior prom, and ensuring everything and everyone follows said plan.
while discussing the event, you realised you forgot to check with your school’s janitor if he’s free on the day of prom, or if he’s taking a holiday. either way was fine with you, as you were thinking of making everyone clean up after themselves. but just to be sure, you and donghyuck, unfortunately, decided to stop by the closet after the meeting had ended.
thursday, 6:05 p.m.
“i don’t think he’s here. it is after school hours, so i think he went home,” you said, peeping into the dark closet. it was pretty obvious he wasn’t there–the room couldn’t have been more than five feet by five feet. it’s a storage space, but the janitor keeps his bag here before starting work and picks it up right before leaving school.
“yeah, no shit, sherlock.” donghyuck reached around you to flip the light switch on. the lone bulb suspended from the ceiling blazed to life, setting the room alight.
then, suddenly, a figure pushed donghyuck into the confined space, which caused you to jerk inwards. it happened so fast, you barely had time to react, or identify the culprit. you heard keys jingling and fear danced around in your eyes.
donghyuck was still facing the door, while you were standing with your back against the wall. he tried his best to look out the little glass rectangle fitted in the door, but he turned around and shook his head in frustration.
“what the fuck just happened,” you said; it came out more as a statement, but anger resonated through your words.
“we, er, just got locked in here.” he deadpanned as if you couldn’t have figured.
you groaned and clenched your fists. “i’m gonna kill them. you didn’t happen to see their face, did you?”
he shook his head, “nope.”
“well, we know one thing. that person had the key–and only two people have the key to the closet. the janitor, who’s not even here, and the general office staff. but i’m sure they wouldn’t lock us in here.” you said.
donghyuck tilted his head, “okay, then, who...” he trailed off, allowing you to vocalise your theories.
 “somebody must have stolen one of the two keys.” your brain’s gears started turning, trying to think of someone who would pull something like this.
“it could be the janitor’s keys. the closet was unlocked when we got here.” donghyuck reminded you.
“yeah...but he never leaves the closet unlocked. he’s very responsible, so it can’t be his set of keys. it’s probably the staff’s set,” you countered. “they barely pay any attention to non-admin matters. that person must’ve stolen their keys, unlocked the door after the janitor left, and waited for us to come here, before locking us in. jesus, i’m so angry. this is so fucking childish,” you groaned again.
donghyuck nodded in slight agreement, surprising you. he never agrees on anything you have to say, but he didn’t have much of a choice in that situation. plus, your theory made sense. “do you think this whole thing was renjun’s idea? he was the one who suggested we check with the janitor about prom night.”
your eyes widened in shock. “oh my god...wait, but it wasn’t renjun’s idea. it was mine, actually–he just reminded me to do so.” you slowly dropped down to the floor and held your head in your hands. you couldn’t believe what was going on. the entire situation seemed to just hit you.
you’re stuck in a small closet with lee donghyuck, your number one enemy.
present time – thursday, 6:40 p.m.
“none of them are picking up. donghyuck, what if they’re all in on this together? kind of like a senior prank–except we’re the ones getting pranked.” you say, panic rising in your voice. you’re standing now, leaning against the wall with your phone clutched tightly in your hand.
knowing your and donghyuck’s friends, you’re sure you’re going to be here all night. they’re quite a bunch. you and donghyuck have a common friend group, but your friends find your ongoing rivalry extremely annoying. it makes perfect sense if they locked you two in here.
donghyuck digests your words quickly. “no way. that’s insane! why the fuck would they do that?”
“well, do you have a better explanation? i’m sure you don’t, considering i’m the only one who’s been thinking of possible theories, while you’re here giving me the only suggestion you have–your stupid bobby pin idea,” you say, breathing heavily.
“can you shut up for just two seconds? always telling me what to do, disagreeing with me, arguing and fighting with me. we’re locked in here, and you think arguing like little kids is gonna get us out?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “god, and to think i had a crush on you last year.” he must not have meant to reveal that little secret, because his ears turn red instantly.
you gape at him, “what–what did you say?”
“look at you, getting a big head again–!”
“donghyuck.”
“i liked you! there, you happy?”
“i like–liked you too, idiot,” you say in a low voice.
then, he laughs–a melodious sound, emitting pure joy and rainbows and sunshine. “some type of rivals we are.”
you laugh with him now, finding the situation so pathetically sad that it was almost funny. laughable. something to reminisce from time to time.
“you...you still like me?” donghyuck asks in a small voice you’ve never heard before.
“take a guess.”
“no?”
you bite the inside of your cheek, “take another guess.”
he grins at you, leaning against one of the shelves–which was a bad move on his part. he accidentally knocks over a bottle of...detergent? who knows, but it ends up uncapped and half-empty once it lands on the floor. luckily it was plastic, so the bottle doesn’t break. unluckily, the other of the liquid splashes on you, soaking your entire shirt. your plain, white, shirt.
donghyuck freezes, “um...y/n, i’m sorry–”
you hold up a hand. the god of testing people’s patience must’ve signed you up for some competitive exam today. “save it.”
donghyuck looks around hastily, trying to find a clean rag. he produces a small yellow cloth from the back of one of the shelves and hands it to you, “here.”
you don’t even say thanks. you quickly take it from him, free your shirt from your jeans, and start wiping and drying it to the best of your ability. you manage to make the shirt as dry as possible, but it was detergent that spilt on you. it was soapy–it was not water. 
you groan for the third time today and look at donghyuck, gritting your teeth. “i can’t possibly go out like this.”
he winces, feeling extremely apologetic. “take off your shirt and wear my hoodie instead. i have two layers on,” he suggests.
you give him a double-take, “what the fuck? no! why would i do that?” you exclaim.
“do you have any better ideas?”
you watch as he swiftly takes his hoodie off, revealing a loose tee clad on his body. you hate to admit how good he looks. he hands the item of clothing to you, and you tell him to turn around as you begrudgingly peel your shirt away. you take the rag once again, wiping off as much soapy liquid as you can, and pull the hoodie over your head.
it smells like him, you think. it smells like that expensive cologne he always seems to wear. you show no indication that you find his hoodie soft and comforting, and tell him you’re done. you roll the shirt, squeezing any remnants of detergent out, and stuff it in your bag.
he bites back the smile daring to form on his lips upon seeing you in his hoodie. “okay. now that that’s over, let’s try to get out of here, shall we?”
you nod. “i have our science teacher’s number. maybe i could ask her to help us? she’s always here late, marking papers and assignments.”
donghyuck snaps his fingers, “you’re right! yeah, give her a call.”
you scroll through your contacts till you find the name you’re looking for. you press the call button and set it to speaker mode so donghyuck can hear as well. she picks up after three rings, “hello?”
“hi, miss angela! it’s me, y/n. you see, um, donghyuck and i got locked in the janitor’s closet by someone, and we have no way to get out. are you still in school? if you are, is it possible for you to unlock the door from the outside?”
miss angela hums a little, as if in thought, “i just left, my dear. i could turn the car around if you’d like. i’m sure the office keeps an extra set.”
“yes! that would be great. thank you, miss angela. and we’re sorry for the inconvenience,” you nudge donghyuck with your elbow, who catches on immediately.
“yeah, we’re incredibly sorry. i’ll be sure to submit an extra report–!”
“save it, lee donghyuck. i’ll be there in five to ten minutes,” she hangs up with that.
you pocket your phone and look at donghyuck. “so.”
“so,” he repeats.
“are we going to act like we didn’t just confess to one another earlier?” you ask, biting your lip nervously.
“no, i don’t want to, um, act like we didn’t. i lied, y/n. i had a crush on you last year, yeah, but i never stopped liking you. i still like you. i don’t want to be your enemy anymore.” he nudges you. 
you smile shyly, “i like you too, donghyuck.”
just then, you hear keys jingling–an all too familiar sound. you get excited, thinking you’re going to be met with the face of miss angela, but when the door bursts open, you see the smirking faces of renjun and jeno.
“about fucking time!” renjun pulls you and donghyuck outside.
“what?” donghyuck demands. “it was your idea to lock us in there? are you fucking kidding me?”
jeno grimaces, “i’m sorry, it was the only way you two would confess your feelings for each other and stop fighting for good.”
“i can think of plenty of ways–!”
“wait, y/n, are you wearing donghyuck’s hoodie? holy fuck...don’t tell me you guys did it.” renjun looks back and forth between you and donghyuck.
“what? no, of course not!” you retort.
“then why do you have his hoodie on, dear y/n?” jeno asks.
“that’s none of your damn business, lee jeno!” donghyuck looks ready to pounce on him, but you place a hand on his chest, stopping him. his gaze drops down to your hand and it softens.
“there was a little accident...but the good thing is that we’re out. hooray. now, everybody, go home. i have to call miss an–”
“y/n, thank goodness! what happened?” miss angela emerges into the scene, looking a little worried.
you briefly explain the evening’s events to her, without mentioning the confession part. she doesn’t need to know that. you tell her it was a silly prank. nothing more, nothing less.
she visibly sighs a breath of relief. “well, at least it wasn’t some stranger. jeno, renjun, i didn’t expect this from you two. but i’m glad you’re all okay.” she takes her leave, after ensuring you four are on your way home.
jeno and renjun go home via jeno’s car, and you and donghyuck, living only a couple of blocks away from school, decide to walk the journey.
“all this... just so we could stop fighting,” donghyuck laughs. you’re walking side by side, hands occasionally brushing against one another. it’s like something out of a cheesy rom-com. you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“it worked, didn’t it?” you say.
donghyuck stops on the pavement, turning his body to face you. he stretches out a hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear, making you bump his shoulder shyly. he smiles; he wouldn’t have it any other way either.
“i guess it did. but what do we do now?”
“what do you mean?” you raise an eyebrow.
“like, do i walk you home first? do i ask you on a date? god, with you, it’s just so much more...different. if it was someone else, i would’ve gone with my gut, but with you, i don’t wanna mess it up. you know?” donghyuck finally takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. you feel his warmth radiate, you feel his touch bringing you safety and comfort. something way more powerful than a hoodie.
“donghyuck, i’m new at this too. i’m just as scared as you are. and that’s okay, trust me. i’m glad it’s me and not anyone else.” you assure him.
you gather up whatever courage you have remaining, tip-toe, and brush your lips against his cheek. you stay there for a moment, just breathing him in. when you pull away, his cheeks are a dusty pink shade.
“do that again,” he tells you.
“no, i think i’m good.” you start walking again.
“y/n!” he whines.
“okay, on one condition.” he raises a brow, “ask me on a date.”
for a moment, he’s bewildered. then, he gets down on one fucking knee, not caring about anyone who might be watching, and clears his throat. “y/n, i like you so much. will you make me the happiest man alive, and go on a date with me this saturday?” he looks up at you expectantly.
you chuckle at his antics and give him a nod. “i would love to, lee donghyuck.”
he grins, all big and bright, and leaps up to envelop you in a hug. his arms go around your waist and yours circle his neck. he whispers in your hair, “i guess we owe renjun and jeno a thank you?”
“i am not going to thank them for locking us up in a closet. in fact, i’m gonna double their prom duties.” you feel his chest vibrate as he laughs at your comment.
however, you are thankful that it was lee donghyuck you got stuck with. so, forget the time machine. you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
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hecrtfelt · 4 years ago
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( dylan  o’brien ,  25 ,  cismale  ,  he/him )  *  hey  ,  i’m  looking  for  the  office  of  griffin  olson  .  they’re  the  employee  who’s  known  around  the  office  as  the  party  animal  ,  if  that  helps  ?  not  to  be  a  gossip  ,  but  i’ve  heard  that  they’re  extroverted  but  reckless  ,  is  that  true  ?  i’ve  also  heard  that  they’re  the  one  who  did  a  line  on  a  fax  machine  .  anyways  ,  here’s  the  coffee  they  ordered  .  ( admin  sabrina  ,  21 ,  she/her , est ) 
hiii  i’m  admin  sabrina  and  aaAAAHHHHH  thank  u  for  joining  my  group  :’)  umm  a little  abt  me   is  that  i’m  a  leo  and  black  and  i  play  a  lot  of  instruments  and  i  love  ari  and  harry  and  5sos  and  the  driver  era  and  marvel  and  bnha  and  i’m  going  to  law   school  in  nyc  in  the  fall  so  AHHHHHH  again  but  fr  i  love  making  friends  so  hmu  on 𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚#3541 even  just  to  chat  faljsfkjsfkljj
anyways  this  is  my  boy  griffin  and  basically............  homeboy  needs  to  pick  up  a  mortage  or  smth  FJSLJFSLJFJJ
tws:  alcohol  and  drug   mentions  . 
*  statistics   .
FULL  NAME:  griffin  lee  olson NICKNAMES:  griff  ,  griffy  ,  g FACECLAIM:  dylan  o’brien  but  exclusively  this  era STAR  SIGN:  gemini HEIGHT:  6′1″ HOMETOWN:  brooklyn  ,  ny ORIENTATION:  heterosexual OFFICE OCCUPATION:  lobbyist POSITIVE TRAITS:  amicable  ,  energetic  ,  optimistic NEGATIVE TRAITS:  irresponsible  ,  insouciant  ,  impulsive ALCHOL/DRUG  USAGE:  heavy  for  both  ,  &  has  an  unhealthy  reliance  on  the  latter  when  he’s  extra  stressed  .  only  those  close  to  him  or  happen  to  have  seen  him  getting  a  $20  nosebleed  (  aka  doing  a  LINE  and  being  a  COKIE  MONSTER  )  will  know  about  the  drug  thing  ,  but  the  alcohol  part  is  easier  to  find  out  since  too  often  he  wears  sunglasses  to  work  to  cover  his  bloodshot  eyes  flajfafj THEME SONG:  don’t  threaten  me  with  a  good  time  by  panic!  at  the  disco CHARACTER  INSPO:  peter  quill  ( marvel ) ,  thor  odinson  ( marvel  but  specifically  in  ragnarok  and  endgame )  ,  deadpool  (  marvel  )  ,  sokka  ( atla ) ,  klaus  (  the umbrella  academy  )  ,  beast  boy  ( teen  titans ) ,  nyles  (  palm  springs  )  cody  ko  (  tmg  )  ,  nick  miller  (  new  girl  )  ,  aldous  snow  (  forgetting  sarah  marshall  )  &  any  party  animal  character  you  can  think  of AESTHETICS:  neon signs  lighting  up  the  night  ,  setting  five  alarms  and  sleeping  through  them  all  ,  cold  liquor  on  an  empty  stomach  ,  a  cluttered  desk  and  a  messy  nightstand  ,  winking  at  strangers  ,  and  popping  bubble  gum  . SECRET: hehehehehehehehehehe
*  brief  backstory  .
griffin’s  dad  is  a  used-car  salesman  and   his  mom  is  an  attorney  who  sells  avon on  the  side ,  so  g  grew  up  knowing  how  to  talk  .  it  already  helped  that  he’d  been  sociable  from  the  start  ,  oftentimes  being  scolded  by  his  mom  for  talking  the  ear  off  of  the  person  sitting  next  to  them  on  the  subway  .  but  his  parents  had  to  be  persuasive  for  a  living  and  that  transferred  onto  griffin  .  the  popular  kid  to  some  and  the  class  clown  to  others  ,  griffin  spent  his  middle  and  high  school  years  buttering  people  up  with  his   words  and  friendship  ,  with  his  long  brown eyelashes  and  boyish  grin  .   it  got  him  the last  bag  of  chips  from  the  snack  cart  ,  an  extra  five  points  on  his  calculus  quiz  ,  and  free  handles  of  liquor  from  the  seniors  .   being  so  well-liked  meant  griffin  was  invited  to  a  lot  of  parties  ,  and  that’s  where  the  addiction  began  .  he’s  addicted  to  alcohol  ,  to  any  drug  that  gets  his  veins  feeling  like  electricity  ,  to  meeting  strangers  in  loud  basements  and  that  pounding  feeling  in  the  back  of  his  temple  .  this  carried  onto  college  ,  so  griffin  never  really  got  the  chance  to  grow  up  .  he’d  never  been  smacked  with  the  reality  that  life  isn’t  all  tequila  shots  and  drake  songs  ,  and  it  didn’t  help  that  the  profession  his  parents introduced  him  to  only  required  an  ironed  suit  from  him  at  the  most  .  he  went  from  one  crowded  room   to  another  ,  this  one  just  with  more  briefcases  ,  surrounded  by  strangers  once  more  and  doing  a  line  with  his  colleagues  .  now  ,  working  at  masters  in  the  heart  of  the  world’s  most  vibrating  city  ,  who  knows  how  long  before  griffin  takes  his  lifestyle  too  far  ?
*  what  he  does  in  the  office  .
he’s  a  lobbyist  for  masters  !   he’s  been  there  for  four  years  now  .  basically  he  works  for  masters  as  a  messenger  to  the  government  .  masters  is  huge  and  influential  and  powerful  and  sometimes  they  wanna  introduce  or  ban  or  amend  legislations  all  in  the  name  of  making  them  more  powerful  and  monopolistic  ,  and  that’s  where  griffin  comes  in  .  his  job  is  to   basically  schmooze  for  the  benefit  of  the  company  .  it  sounds  like  a  super  important  job and  it  is  ,  and  griffin  does  it  well  .  he’s   still  immature  though  💔  catch  him  recovering  from  a  hangover  and  sleeping  on  his  desk  most  days  of  the  week  . 
*  his personality, summarized  . 
super  sociable  and  energetic  when  he’s  not  hungover  ,  mostly  nice  but  can  get  snappy  if  he  has  a  reason  to  be  .  tends  to  ramble  .  the biggest  party  animal  ever  ,  almost  to  an  insane  amount  .  is  down  for  any  opportunity  to  get  lit  ,  no  matter  the  time  of  day  or  who  he’s  with  .  don’t  trust  him  for  anything  ,  he’ll  forget  about  it  but  at  least  not  on  purpose  .  he’s  loyal  to  the  people  he  likes  though  so  that’s  nice  ! 
*  wanted  connections  .
long-term  relationship  on  the  verge  of  ending  ( open  to  f  /  nb ) :  i  have  a  lot  of  ideas  for  this  and  i’d  love  someone  to  do  this  with   soooooo  hmu  if  ur  tryna  plot  this  mess  out  👀 best   friend  ( open  to  m  /  f  /  nb  ) :  self-explanatory  but  everyone  loves  a  fun  best  friends  duo  fwb  ( open  to  f  /  nb  )  :  I  MEANNNNNNNN B) THIS??????  drugs   tw   tho  ( open  to  f  /  nb  )  :  mayb  they’re  crazy  when  2gether  🤪 ex-friend  ( open  to  m  /  f  /  nb  ) :  imagine  the  DRAMA ex  ( open  to  f  /  nb  ) : everyone  loves  a  messy  ex  plot  .  it’s  me  ,  i’m  everyone . exes to besties  ( open  to  f  /  nb  ) : can  u  imaGINE enemy  ( open  to  m  /  f  /  nb  ) :  there’s  definitely  someone  in  this  world  who  hates  griffin  .  or  on  the  flip  side  ,  this  might  be  someone  he  hates  !  maybe  it’s  even  mutual   personal   assistant/intern   ( open  to m  /  f  /  nb  ) :  SOMEONE   PLEASE  HELP  THIS  MAN  NOT  GET  FIRED  .  also  this  connection  has  sooooooo  much  potential  to  it  too  ! sibling  ( open  to  m  /  f  /  nb  ) :  can  be  sibling-sibling  ,  half-siblings  ,  step-siblings  ,  any  of  it  !   dealer  ( open  to  m  /  f  /  nb  ) :  yanno.
*  i’m  literally  down  for  anything  so  just  hmu :) i  wanna  plot  w  u  all  !
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randomguywithwords · 5 years ago
Text
On The Line: Part 1 of 3 (KamiJirou Short Story)
No quirk AU, normal life and all. Enjoy
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Jirou’s phone buzzed. She frowned when she saw that it was an unknown number, but the country code was that of Japan’s. She answered, assuming it would be a prank caller, or Mina using a stranger’s phone because hers died from playing battery-draining gacha games. 
“Hello?” 
“Hi!” A boyish voice was on the other end, sounding slightly out of breath. “I’m Denki Kaminari, I need your help.”
Prank caller it is. Although it was unusual for them to introduce themselves by an actual name, It was likely fake. 
“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number,” She responded, mustering all the politeness she had at this stranger who was interrupting her precious break time. 
“No, no, please! You’re 81907621 right?”
“That’s correct,” Mechanically she said, taking a sip of her coffee and feeling a growing sense of frustration of how much time this Kaminari was wasting. 
“Just give me 15 seconds!” His voice was fraught with panic, so much so that Jirou started to question how genuine this person was. 
Rubbing her temples, she sighed, “Ok. 15 seconds for your sales pitch, and I’m hanging up.” She definitely could have hung up 10 seconds ago, but on the off chance this wasn’t a prank call, or a scammer, but an actual person in dire need of whatever assistance Jirou was supposed to provide, then so be it. 
“I’m applying for a job, and they asked for references, and I meant to put down my ex-teacher’s phone number, but I accidentally put yours instead, and I just found out and the company said they would be calling you soon and I really, really need you to tell them I’m suitable and not that I screwed up my application. I know it sounds stupid but I can prove it. My teacher’s name is Shota Aizawa and he’s a teacher at U.A High. You can look it up!”
Kyoka whistled under her breath at how fast he had managed to speak, and even more so that she caught it all. Guess being friends with fast talkers like Ashido and Momo was a good life skill after all. 
“Okay, I’ll google him and you to see if you’re telling the truth. You’re an alumnus there? What year?”
“Graduated just last semester.”
“Hm, how convenient. I did too. Lucky you landed me and not some old lady.”
There was a nervous chuckle on the other end. “I swear it’s the truth. Please help me, I’ll even pay you if need be. Just don’t tell the company I messed up.”
Some employee he would be, Jirou grumbled internally, though she did sympathise with his self-caused plight. She could remember the bunch of times she had total failures and had to be bailed out. 
“I’ll call you back in 5 minutes. And the second you ask for my credit card number I’m reporting you to the police, got it?”
“Yes!” He yelped. 
Jirou hung up, and then resumed her break, wondering whether all of this was worth the trouble. With another sigh, she pulled out her laptop and typed in the names she heard. 
“Hmm. It all checks out,” She muttered, scrolling through U.A High’s official website. Looking through social media accounts, she repeatedly saw both Shota Aizawa’s face in staff photos as well as Denki Kaminari. While the former looked as if he had woken up five minutes before taking the photo, the latter sported a mischievous look, with yellow, unkempt hair. 
In other words, Denki Kaminari looked exactly like the type of person who would fill in the wrong number in an extremely important document. 
Closing her laptop, she sent a text message to Kaminari’s number. “Send a selfie. I need to make sure it’s you.”
The reply – sent in a record-breaking time, she might add, was more amusing than she thought, seeing his expression that spoke levels of, “I’m not sure what face I should make for this.” Nonetheless, she was pretty convinced that Kaminari wasn’t bullshitting her. 
“Alright,” Jirou began when Kaminari answered her call, “I believe you. So, what do you need me to do?”
“Uh, right, I just need you to pretend to be my ex-teacher and answer their questions.”
“Right, but I’m a girl, if you haven’t noticed. Wouldn’t your teacher have a more gravelly voice, from the looks of him?”
A pause. “Sorry, I did not consider that. Uh...” The frantic pace in his voice was returning. “Do you have boyfriends?”
Jirou coughed to contain her laughter at the question, that Kaminari immediately corrected. 
“Shit – I didn’t mean it like that! Like – boy friends. Guy friends, friends who are guys!” 
“Yeah, so I give the phone to them?
“If you could, I would be so, so thankful.”
“Fine, I’ll do it. But now, you’re going to have to fill me in on your life story, or the parts relevant to this job. What are you applying for, by the way?”
“It’s an admin job at a tuition agency.” 
“Okay. Could you text me whatever’s needed? I’ll deliver all this to my friend.”
“Sure, sure. Thanks so much for helping me with this, by the way. I could send you some money or something.”
“Let’s discuss that later. Do you know when they’ll call?”
“Well it’s the lunch hour now, maybe in an hour or two?”
“Gotcha. Call you back when it’s all over, and good luck to you.” 
“Okay. Bye!”
Jirou hung up, and called another person, “Yo. Meet me in the canteen ASAP.”
5 minutes later, a tired Hitoshi Shinsou sat down in front of her, tired being a redundant adjective. “What’s up?”
Kyoka began to explain. Shinso’s face barely shifted throughout, and he only had one question at the end. “How are you so sure I can imitate this Aizawa person?”
“Here’s a video of him delivering a speech.” 
After five seconds of listening, Shinso put down the earphones. “Alright, so I just speak normally. Got it.”
A smile curled at Jirou’s lip. It had been an admittedly boring day of classes. Maybe this plot of sorts would make it more interesting, but Jirou wouldn’t admit it to herself yet, but she was becoming more interested in this character of Kaminari Denki. 
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Just a plot idea I thought of and saw how applicable it was to these two characters. I’m not sure whether it’s been done before, but the wrong number texting trope has been. *coughs in Dial and Error by Ionica01 which is one of the best Todomomo fics I’ve read* I’ve linked it, hope she doesn’t mind ._. But it really is very good IMO. 
Anyway, I swear this is just a 3 part story. Not a full length novel/novella. I’m working on c25. 
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