#I got the munchies and was debating if I wanted to go to the store really fast

[rosicheeks]

😂

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Lost boys with a drug addicted s/o pls or if you’re not comfortable doing drug drugs could it just be a stoner girlfriend mercí I just got officially clean and starting my clean streak so I’ve converted to weed instead of LSD, acid and heroin I’m pretty proud of myself :)❤️

I'm not comfortable with doing a drug addicted s/o specifically, but I'm more than willing to do a stoner s/o!! Here you go and I'm very proud of you as well!!!

Poly!Lost Boys x Stoner S/O

You met the boys through Paul (obviously). He had smelled the weed on you (whether that was from his vampiric sense of smell or not is debatable) and he didn't hesitate to ask you where you got your stuff. The two of you went back and forth a bit, and the two of you decided to sesh together

It started as a simple friendship and later lead to a few makeouts here or there before Paul was introducing you to the rest of the gang. It didn't take long for them to decide you were cool to stay

All the boys smoke, but to different degrees and they're all definitely okay with you being a stoner yourself

Paul is definitely the main stoner of the group, so the two of you get Blazed™. You can share a supply and maybe even buy stuff from the same people. He's almost always carrying weed on him, so he's ready in case you wanna spark a buzz under the boardwalk. The two of you pig out on munchies and listen to music while laying on the floor of the cave. He'll play his guitar for you and the two of you might even jam a little. It usually ends in sloppy make-out sessions, cuddling, and the two of you talking about whatever comes to mind. In fact, he's definitely the type to ramble when he's high and you can ask him whatever you want. He's gone on quite a few conspiracy rants, but also just rants on how pretty you are. He's overall just really happy he can share this with you, and the two of you are the poster board stoner couple. He'll buy you bongs as a present istg and definitely makes stoner jokes with you. "What time is it, sugar?" "4:20" "Nice"

Marko smokes but definitely not nearly as much as Paul. He likes to get a good buzz, but not wasted. He leaves that for you and Paul. Instead, he'll egg both of you on to do dumb shit and spend the night having you two be his own personal entertainment. Marko will definitely take you on munchie runs with him, and the two of you will fuck around in the grocery store. He'll let you pick whatever snacks you want, and the two of you started laughing uncontrollably the one time you accidentally dropped a pack of sodas and they exploded. Marko is definitely the most likely to get you in trouble when you're high, and the two of you have often been asked by security guards if you've been "using drugs" that night. Marko will give him a grin, and then bam the two of you are running in the direction of his bike. You and Marko are prone to giggle fits on the couch that Marko almost always makes worse by tickling you, and he'll definitely try to get you to tell him how much you like him. The two of you accidentally zone out while watching a movie, and the others have to snap you out of it like two hours later. Is usually the king of pda but being high makes him even more touchy. Will just lay on you if he feels like he needs cuddles

David smokes but prefers his cigs. He only wants a small buzz, because he still likes to be in control (but he also doesn't want to feel left out). Is the type to definitely watch you and let you do dumb shit, only to save you last second. David just gets chill whenever he's high, so he'll have you sit in his lap and the two of you will just relax and talk about nonsense. Gets munchies, but isn't a picky eater so he just sends Marko to get whatever. David is definitely the type that likes to mess with people when they're high, so he might tease you or make your food look like something gross. You write it off as just being a little too stoned until you find out what they are and then it's "very not cool, David". Will definitely take you to do dumb shit and do his best to freak you out, but wouldn't put you in any actual danger. After you've been dating for awhile, David will just take you out to the cliffs whenever you get stoned and he'll tell you about all the stuff he's experienced (mainly because he doesn't expect you to remember any of it anyways). Very cute moments of the two of you sitting on his bike as he talks about his life, your head on his shoulder and his hands over yours

Dwayne isn't a really big stoner, and is usually pretty quiet on a normal day. Weed just makes him sleepy and even more reserved, so the two of you are pretty much tethered to the couch whenever you get high together. You'll put on a movie, grab some food, and just lay on the couch while the two of you zone out for hours. He becomes way more affectionate when he's high, but don't let him lay his head on your chest unless you want a giant sleeping vampire to keep you from getting up for the next few hours. Dwayne is definitely the type of smoker to get paranoid by large groups, so the two of you will end up staying at the cave. You'll probably end up having a higher tolerance than him, so if the two of you are out and about you'll have to do some things for him (i.e. ordering food, talking to people, etc.) When Dwayne's high, he just wants attention. Whether that's kissing, playing with his hair, or just laying down together, it doesn't matter. He wants reassurance that you're near and will probably look at you with a sleepy, adoring look on his face. Might murmur about how you smell nice, but don't tease him about it later or else he'll refuse to speak to you for like an hour

Also, you'll probably never need to buy weed again if you're dating these boys and that's that on that

[certifiedskywalker]

Being Best Friends with Klaus Hargreeves Would Include...

Anonymous said: Hey, not sure if you've done anything similar to this before but could I request 'Being best friends with Klaus Hargreeves would include...' I love your blog, thank you! x

I’m baaaaaaack (at least for a bit!)! Enjoy and cut me some slack as it’s been a while since I’ve written fanfiction; especially TUA fanfic!

It’s not entirely his own fault but Klaus is not the greatest influence.

So if you have a rather cautious personality, be prepared to do things far outside of your comfort zone.

If you’re more attuned to Klaus’ chaos, be prepared to get on the wildest ride of your life and probably definitely get into trouble.

If chaos is your thing you might become more cautious around Klaus! Who knows!

Either way you lean, you’re going to get used to the turbulence that comes with Klaus.

Perhaps that’s why you’re so close to begin with.

When he was younger, Klaus was rebellious to combat the structure of his Father’s schedules and training regimes.

Sadly, he could never really rebel enough to free himself entirely.

Aside from his brothers and sisters, Klaus didn’t have friends. 

So, when he met you, he dived in head first; all the good, bad, and the ugly.

It was after what Klaus remembers/believes was his first big bender when he found himself in a coffee shop, studying the menu with glossy eyes. 

It was one of your first jobs, working as a barista/baker. 

Klaus was wearing a long, faux fur line jacket, a pink crop top, and jorts (jean shorts). 

Because of his piece-meal outfit, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

That and he was holding up the line as he debated what he had the munchies for. 

“What would you get…”

“What?” You raised your brows at him, surprised he finally spoke up.

“What would you get if you had stayed up for three days straight, wine tasti-wine hoarding really, and raving in the best clubs of the city?”

“An aspirin and a chai latte probably.”

“Ah! Yes! A chai latte sounds ammaazing right now. Maybe a cookie too.”

“Snickerdoodle?”

“It’s like you can read my mind! Wait, can you? At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

After he got his cookie and his chai latte, the strangely dressed man made himself comfortable in the coffee shop.

After a few hours, Klaus was what your manager considered loitering.

Hell, after the last few hours of your shift and Klaus still lingered, your manager offered to walk you to your car.

“I think he’s just…”

You looked over and saw him, Klaus, idly twirling a pair of sunglasses between his fingers.

“...he’s just lost.”

When you had gathered your things and cleaned up after your shift, you wandered over to where he sat.

It took a moment before he took notice of you but when he did, he stood up quickly.

“Hey you,” he said in a rushed breath (somehow it still sounded flirtatious). 

“Hey, uh, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh! What a lovely name!”

He extended his hand to you and you finally saw the tattoos on his palm.

“I’m Klaus, my dear. Care for an adventure?”

That first ‘adventure’ was one that you would remember forever.

Klaus took you to his favorite second-hand shop and you thrifted horrendous articles of clothing.

You still have an incredibly chunky, cable-knit sweater from that day; when you miss Klaus, you wear it.

Klaus bought two wigs, decent wigs, with what money he had.

Outside, Klaus turned to you and grinned.

“Put this on, will you?”

“Pink isn’t re-”

He was already tugging the wig over your head.

“Pink is so your color, trust me,” he gestured to himself, “I know style.”

When he donned the other, curly haired, wig, Klaus led you to an array of establishments with less than welcoming atmospheres where you ‘borrowed’ some merchandise.

Klaus has not mercy for racist or homophobic stores/companies and ‘borrows’ from them often. 

Klaus nearly got caught, he lost his wig in the fray.

You had never felt more alive.

You had never smiled wider.

It was thrilling; he was thrilling. 

But he wasn’t thrilling all the time. 

After that day, you and Klaus were attached to the hip and you learned there were other parts to him outside of the bubbling, endearing chaos.

His addictions became startlingly apparent.

During his many sleep overs, he would search through your cabinets, your fridge, any other place he could think of, for booze.

“Klaus?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hunting for our dinner, what’s it look like.”

You set a limit on the number of drink he was allowed to have when he stayed over at your place (which was quite often). 

You didn’t want him to suffer but you didn’t want him black-out drunk, or high either.

Overall, you tried to rein in his drug use; for his own sake. 

When he isn’t wasted, Klaus tries to keep himself busy in other ways.

This meant a lot more ‘adventures’ for the two of you. 

Small trips to cultural grocery stores to try different foods

Thrift shopping; because Klaus is always looking to add to this wardrobe. 

You draw the line at dumpster diving.

“You’re missing out, Y/N! When I lived in LA for a week, this is how I survived.”

“You lived in LA?”

“For a time. Lots of bikinis...roller skates too.”

Other times you and Klaus would just walk around the city talking.

The two of you would create fantasy lives for the people you passed by, giving them wild powers like Klaus and his siblings.

Sometimes you would listen to Klaus talk about his siblings.

Your favorite stories to listen to were about Ben.

“After that, pigeons never seemed to land on the roof. Too scared I think. Ben and I did too good of a job.”

“Sounds like he was an amazing guy.”

“Yeah, he was. He likes y- I, he would have liked you.”

You tell him about your family, about your own struggles.

Through this sharing, this walks and talks, you both grow closer.

These winding walks often end at Griddy’s diner. 

“Slap me on the ass and call me Bessy, I forgot how good strawberry donuts are!”

When you return back home, your place, but Klaus calls it home, you settle in.

Klaus will braid his hair, offer to try to braid yours.

“Please, it keeps me busy.”

“What would you do without me?”

“Die of boredom, or just die, probably.”

If you both have a night cap drink before bed, you guys might dance.

Klaus tries to teach you a few moves before giving up.

“Just feel the music, my dear, feel it.”

Eventually, you both collapse and cuddle for a bit.

Klaus is a big fan of platonic cuddling so prepare for that.

Movie nights!

Due to his ‘training’ and his powers, Klaus tends to stay away from horror films so get ready for rom-coms and cheesy action movies.

“Have you ever wanted to do that?”

Klaus has a habit of asking questions during the movie; none of which are crucial to the plot of said movie.

“What?”

“If we got a boat, would you do the whole ‘I’m king of the world’ bit?”

“I mean, why wouldn’t I do it?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

There are nights when you can hear him whimpering from the couch where he sleeps.

Those nights, you creep out of your room and wake him up.

“Bad dream?”

Klaus never responds to the question, ever.

Instead, he curls up next to your and you play with his hair until he falls asleep again. 

The next morning, over coffee, you try to get him to talk about it.

Sometimes he does, other times he distracts from the topic.

Either way, you hug him.

“I’m here for you, Klaus.”

“I’m here for you too. Otherwise, I’m homeless.”

He is always trying to set you up with people.

You’ll be working at the coffee shop and he’ll come up and pretend to buy something just to tell you: “table in the far corner. They’ve been glancing your way a lot.”

“Klaus….they’re waiting for their order.”

“Oh. Well, you never know.”

That always leaves you smiling.

It’s hard not to be happy with Klaus as your best friend.

Even when he’s down or you’re down, the two of you together seem to lift one another up.

Being Klaus’ friend means having fun and feeling, feeling so much.

You feel his past pain, his struggle, his grief, in the same turn you feel his joy, his wonder, and his spark for good.

And in that, you inspire each other to do and be better.

[mth-ppg-trashcan]

Gas Station AU Part 3

Alright, here it is! This part was getting loooong so I decided to cut it off here

Buttercup gave the gas station’s yellow mop bucket a small kick to roll it forward. Its old wheels squeaked in protest. The bucket looked like it had lived through some shit. It’s paint was faded and cracks threatened the structural integrity. It was only a matter of time before it gave out. Thankfully, Buttercup was on the last aisle she had left to clean. Tonight was not the night she would be faced with the problem of cleaning up the small flood that would ensue from water spilling out a broken bucket.

The mop slopped around the floor. There was no amount of scrubbing that would ever make the linoleum flooring look white again. Buttercup had long ago given up on trying to wash away the floor’s dirty yellow tinge. How anyone ever thought ugly fake tile was a good interior design choice was beyond her. She finished the aisle and returned the mop to the bucket. The gas station was now as clean as it was going to get.

Buttercup had ended her task just in time. She hated cleaning while customers were around. They always disturbed her and made it take longer. So Buttercup breathed a sigh of relief that she had the mop bucket put away before the door dinged to announce a customer.

She couldn’t see who walked in. The supply closet was located on the opposite end of the building as the main door and the store shelves blocked her view. Buttercup tried to add some faux cheer to her voice as she called out a greeting, but it had been a long night, so she wasn’t sure how successful she was at sounding pleasant.

She heard a light chuckle, then a voice responded. “Can’t even bother to greet me at the door, Butters?”

Buttercup was still hidden by the shelves, but she rolled her eyes at him. She should’ve known it would be Butch, but he was a bit earlier than usual. It was only 1 AM and Butch typically didn’t come in for another hour or two.

She debated going back to the supply closet and grabbing the mop again. Cleaning would give her a good reason to ignore him. Although, Buttercup was bored out of her mind and Butch’s idiocy tended to be entertaining. She decided to head to the counter and see what horrendous outfit he’d thought was okay to prowl the streets in tonight. Only to be stopped in her tracks when she actually saw him.

Butch was at the slushee machine filling an extra large cup up with every flavor. That in itself wasn’t unusual. What made her pause was the fact he was wearing a suit. A very nice suit. Although he’d clearly tried to take off as much of it as possible. His shirt was half unbuttoned, his tie was undone, and he had the jacket loosely hung over one of his shoulders. Growing up with Blossom and Bubbles had caused enough fashion information to rub off on Buttercup to allow her to recognize that it was probably a very expensive custom suit. The pants were tailored in a way that was very, ummm, flattering. It was a more polished side of Butch than she ever expected to see.

She looked away and went to take her seat on the stool behind the checkout counter. By the time she was seated, Butch was done filling up his slushee monstrosity. He made his way over to the counter, but paused to grab a fistful of pepperoni sticks. He set it all down on the counter and Buttercup started scanning the items.

Butch raised an eyebrow at her, “Not gonna ask?”

Buttercup scanned another pepperoni stick. He’d grabbed like 15 of them. “Just minding my business.”

She looked at him. Something seemed off with Butch. His usual grin and flirty tone were absent. Instead, he seemed hollow. There wasn’t the same light in his eyes. Curiosity got the better of her. She tried to sound aloof when she asked, “Hard night?”

Butch let out a dry snort. “No, it was full of family fun time.”

She’d finished ringing everything in. “Alright, your total is $21.50.” Butch pulled a $50 bill out from his wallet. Buttercup took it and handed him back his change. “Family fun time requires a fancy suit?” Buttercup asked.

He finally gave her a small smile. “See I knew you’d ask.” Butch put all of his change into the tip jar on the counter. That seemed excessive to Buttercup, but her empty wallet told her not to question it.

Butch started stuffing his pockets full the pepperoni sticks. He never wanted a bag for his stuff, no matter how much he bought. Buttercup had stopped asking if he wanted a bag after the first week. He’d just tell her no, then make a lame joke about how if he couldn’t hold it, he’d just eat it. By the time he was done cramming the snacks wherever they fit, he looked like the midnight munchies version of a scarecrow. Instead of straw sticking out of pockets and sleeves, it was pepperoni sticks. He’d even crammed a couple into his socks.

Buttercup would’ve laughed at him except for the expression on his face. Butch was no longer looking at her. Instead, his eyes stared out the glass front door. She couldn’t make out anything besides the dark sky and lights from the gas pump, but Butch looked like he was haunted by what was beyond it. He shuffled his feet and his posture sagged. It was clear his energy was depleted, but he was trying to muster up the will to go on.

Buttercup was not a therapist and she preferred not to give customers the impression she cared about them. However, she wasn’t heartless. “Butch,” his name fell from her lips before she fully realized what she was saying, “you can stay awhile.”

(Part 1) (Part 2)

[minjinlix-blog]

of ramen and duck slippers (minho x reader)

➥ words: 2.4k ➥ genre: fluff, college!au ➥ pairing: lee minho x reader ➥ summary: you keep running into this guy on campus. but hey, he’s pretty cute. ➥ warning: mentions of alcohol & suggestive comments from a greasy minho

The first time you run into Lee Minho, it’s 3am and he’s drunk.

You’re in your pajamas, hair more unkempt than a bird’s nest, and you’ve walked across the street from your university dorm to pick up some midnight ramen from the local convenience store. Well, 3am ramen actually. You and your roommate Jisung had been marathoning your favorite TV show in celebration of the end of another week of classes but he had fallen fast asleep next to you, his snores getting louder and louder by the minute.  You didn’t have the heart to shove him off your bed, and you figured you were craving some spicy noodles anyway, so you had slipped your feet into your duck-printed dorm slippers and left the building.

Tapping your slippers back and forth as you’re debating between the super spicy ramen or the super super spicy ramen, a body stumbles into your aisle, startling you out of your intense mental debate. Looking over in surprise, you see a boy roughly the same age as yourself, black hair disheveled and mussed. He clearly had been at a party of some sorts - it’s a Friday night, after all - given the faint whiff of alcohol around him and the slightly glazed over look in his eyes. He’s really cute, and all of a sudden a wave of self-consciousness washes over you. You’re aware of how nasty you must look - when was the last time you showered? Did you still have stink breath from the bag of chips you and Jisung ate earlier in the night?

The boy gives you a half smile, a little lopsided, and you’re surprised by how perfect his teeth are and how pretty his eyes are, even glazed over from being buzzed. “Hey there,” he says, his voice light and teasing.

“Hi,” you say a little unsurely. “Can I help you?”

“Hm.” The boy walks over closer to you and stares at the rows of ramen. “That’s a good question. Got any good ramen suggestions? I’m kind of feeling the munchies.”

“The what?” You ask. Who even is this boy?

“Oh. I’m Lee Minho, junior computer science major.” He - Minho - sticks his hand out for you to shake. Shoot, had you said that last thought out loud?

You take his hand - it’s small but his grip is firm. He seems surprisingly put together for someone who had clearly been partying. “Y/N. Uh, also a junior. But an English major. And I recommend the Nongshim ramen; it’s my favorite,” you confess. You point at the ramen cups in front of you, and Minho’s eyes trail down slowly from your face down your neck and across your arm to shelf. You feel weirdly exposed, even though you’re wearing a ratty old sweater that’s two sizes too big for you and covers any sort of shape you might have under it.

Minho blinks at the shelf, then grabs three cups from the rack. “Great! Thanks, Y/N!” He walks away toward the cashier. As you watch him go, he accidentally drops a cup. As he bends down to pick it up, he shouts down the aisle: “By the way, cute slippers!”

You look down and flush as you stare at the duck-printed slippers, the bright yellow pattern glaring back at you.

The second time you run into Lee Minho, you thought he had forgotten you.

“Hey, it’s you!” Minho exclaims as he catches your eye on the first day of spring semester, approximately four months after you had first met him. You’re in the front row of your comparative literature class, ready to get swarmed with the usual millions of pages of reading assignments, and seeing the cute boy from the convenience store you ran into once upon a time was a pleasant surprise. You’re pleased to remember that you did in fact brush your hair today and that you were actually wearing something kind of cute.

“Hi,” you smile at him as he slides into the seat next to you. “Why are you taking this class? It’s not in your major, right?”

“Nah,” Minho smiles easily.  “I just heard it was an easy class.  Gotta maintain that GPA, you know.”

You raise your eyebrows.  “Was someone trying to play a prank on you? Comparative lit is the required class for junior English majors.  It’s notorious for being, like, the hardest class in the major sequence.”

Minho’s eyes widen almost comically. “Shit! Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Is it too late to drop the class?”

You shrug. “You could go talk the the registrar about it.”


Minho groans and slumps backwards in his seat, hair falling into his eyes. “That’s so much worrrrk,” he blows a piece of hair out of his face.  He’s quiet for a moment before he sits straight up again.

“Well, I’m off to go beg them to let me drop the class,” he says, standing up.

As he leaves the classroom, he shouts across the room: “Give my love to those cute duck slippers of yours!” He winks at you, and you feel your face heat up as your eyes follow his body disappearing around the corner.

If you keep running into this boy, you’re positive you’re going to have a heart attack.

The third time you run into Lee Minho, it’s because of Jisung.

You’re walking together with him, bubble tea in hand, and as you pass by the performing arts department building of your university, a boy walks out. Jisung gasps.

“Minho my man!” He calls out. “What’s up?”

Minho jogs over, grinning at Jisung. “Hey, Hannie-boy! Haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Hannie-Boy?” You whisper to Jisung.

“It’s what all the dance majors call me,” he explained.

“Wait, I thought you were a computer science major, Minho,” you narrow your eyes at the taller boy.  His eyes slide over from Jisung to you, his smile never faltering.

“Well, Duck Slippers, there’s something called ‘two majors.’” He winks at you.

“How do you two know each other?” Jisung asks, looking curiously between the two of you.

“Oh, we had a drunken 3am tryst between some shelves,” Minho says suggestively. You choke and Jisung looks at you with wide eyes.

“Y-Y/N? Really?” He sounds shocked, and you almost feel offended.

“Shelves of ramen,” you clarify, clearing your throat. “And he was the inebriated one, not me.”

“I wasn’t inebriated,” Minho protests. “I was simply...tipsy.”

“Sounds fake, but okay!” Jisung pipes up, giggling.  “But why do you call Y/N Duck Slippers?”

“Jisung, we’re literally roommates. How have you not seen my duck slippers before?” You smack his arm. He whines in pain.

“What do you mean duck slip-oh. Wait. Is that what they are?” Jisung looks almost scandalized. “I thought they were sunflowers!”

“In what world do sunflowers and ducks look alike?” Minho laughs. You join in.

Jisung pouts and crosses his arms, sniffing. “Well, I can see I’m not wanted here.  I’m going to the library to wallow in self-pity.”

“Okay, byeee,” you and Minho both say in a singsong manner.

“Have fun!” Minho calls out at Jisung as he walks away in a huff. Jisung slaps his ass in response.

“You seem to know him well,” you comment.

“Yeah, we were in the same dance class last year,” Minho says offhandedly. “And he’d always come over to my room to steal my lollipops.”

“Oh my god, you’re the mystery lollipop guy!” you gasp.

“The one and only,” Minho winks at you, and you will the heat building up your neck to subside. “Why, has Jisung talked about me? Good things, I hope.”

“Hardly. You’re the reason why my room was filled with lollipop wrappers everywhere!” you groan. Last year you had gotten so fed up with Jisung’s dirty habits that you’d withhold his snacks from him until he had cleaned up his side of the room.

Minho snickers. “I don’t think it’s my fault that Jisung’s a slob. But,” he sighs. “If it makes you feel better, I could make it up to you.”

“How?” you ask suspiciously.

“Let’s get lunch,” Minho offers. “On me.” He smiles, flashing his pearly white teeth at you.

“Like...a date?” you press.

Minho shrugs offhandedly. “It could be a date...or it could not be a date. You choose.”

You take a moment to think. Minho’s cute and you want to know more about him.

“It’s a date,” you say decisively.

Minho’s smile turns into a devilish grin. “How did I know you were going to say that?” he muses aloud.

The fourth time you run into Lee Minho, it’s literal. Like, you literally run into him.

You’re sprinting across campus, and it’s 12:10pm. Your class had gotten out late because your professor had been a little too wordy at the end of class, and it was only until you had left the building and checked the time when you realized you were late for your noon lunch date with Minho.

You pull out your phone as you start running over to the campus center where Minho wanted to meet so you can text him that you’re running late. But as soon as you open your messages app, you collide into another body, essentially body slamming the other person to the ground.

“Oomph!” Both of you exclaim in surprise.

Totally winded, you look down at the poor soul you just rammed straight into and realize it’s a familiar face.

“You know, if you wanted to be on top, Duck Slippers, you could’ve just asked.” Minho gives you another lopsided smirk from underneath you. You roll off his body and push yourself off the ground.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, speaking fast. “My professor let class out late and I was running because I didn’t want to make you wait, but clearly I was worrying for nothing because you also are late and I was just about to text you but then - ”

Minho cuts you off. “Y/N. Breathe.”

You breathe. In and out.

Minho smiles at you, and you think you’ve maybe forgotten how to breathe again.

“Great. Let’s go get lunch.” And with that, Minho reaches out and grabs your hand and drags you over to the campus center.

The fifth time you run into Lee Minho, he’s really sweaty.

The stage is dark, and you’re holding your breath in anticipation. You can feel your heart pounding as the crowd is hushed.

All of a sudden, a beat drops and the stage lights flicker on. Your heart bursts when you see Minho rush out onto stage to begin his dance number. You watch in awe as his body moves in sync with the music, each move sharp yet somehow relaxed - Minho makes dancing look easy. It had taken him a while to agree to let you come to his showcase (“No, I’m not good enough yet. Maybe senior year,” he had said) but you had begged with some wise-chosen words (“What kind of a boyfriend doesn’t let their significant other see his dance performances?”) until he had finally given you his extra free ticket.

(“Yeah, boyfriend. Unless you don’t let me watch your dance performance. Then you’re not my boyfriend.”

“Okay, I’m your boyfriend. And you can come watch, I guess.”)

After the performances end, you rush out of your seat and toward the backstage entrance. Running past the other performers and giving them quick congrats and praise, you spot Minho running a towel through his black hair, the front pieces still matted to his forehead with sweat. You beeline toward him and as he’s tossing his sweaty towel away, you throw yourself at him.

“Whoa!” Minho’s arms wrap naturally around your waist as you hug him fiercely.

“You were amazing!” You exclaim, but then pull away quickly. You look at your arms, damp with Minho’s back sweat. “But ew, you need a shower.”

“I know.” Minho leans in close to you, and your heart almost stops. He pecks you on the lips, short and sweet, before moving his lips to your ear. “Wanna shower with me?” he asks suggestively.

You pull away and hit him. “Gross!”

Minho just laughs and snakes his arm around your waist again, pulling you up close to his sweaty side. “One day, Duck Slippers, one day.”

It’s 3am when the credits of the third Lord of the Rings movie start rolling, and you yawn and snuggle deeper in Minho’s body, legs tangled together, your arm splayed across his chest. He’s breathing slowly, and you think he’s asleep when you look up to peck him on the chest.

His eyes flutter open, his unfairly long eyelashes bobbing up and down as he blinks. Minho looks at the rolling text on your laptop. “itssover?” he says groggily, running a hand through his hair to wake him up. “What time is it?”

“Uh,” you check your phone. “Three in the morning exactly.”

“Oh.” Minho drops his arm. It’s quiet for a second. Then his stomach grumbles.

“Wanna go get ramen?” Minho asks. You laugh.

“How cyclical of us,” you snort, hoisting yourself up on the bed so you’re sitting up.

“Hey, don’t go using that English major to say big fancy words around me when I’m too tired to understand.”

“Cyclical isn’t even a big word,” you say dryly before tossing an oversized jacket at Minho’s face. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Just as you’re about to leave your apartment, Minho pulls you back in.

“Wait,” he protests before running back in. You wait a second for him to come out. In his hands are your duck slippers.

“Can’t forget these,” he winks, dropping them at your feet. “Now we can roleplay our first meeting.”

“So you’re saying you want to be inebriated?”

“For the last time, I was tipsy, not drunk!” Minho huffs, but he still wraps his arms around you and dips his head so your faces are very, very close. You can feel his breath wash over your skin.

“Besides, just being with you makes me feel drunk,” he murmurs, lips brushing your cheek, making your skin tingle. You turn your cheek so your lips meet in a long and deep kiss. Melting into him, your lips mold perfectly against his as his teeth catch your bottom lip and graze against your skin. Your hand comes up to cup his jaw, his skin smooth and warm, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt happier.

“Come on,” you say a minute later when you’ve broken apart. “Let’s go get some ramen.”

[thegreatmercutio]

His Name is Prince

By TheGreatMercutio

“Magnus Appreciation Month” 

Day 3: Music 

There are a few times. Magnus knew and was sure he understood Love.

January 26th, 1980. New York City.

While walking home in the cold after a late night dancing away another heartbreak. Magnus publicly came to a conclusion about his dating life, never dates girls name Christina, who likes to be called Tina. They will break your heart. Make you Drunk and tipsy on self-pity and sadness.

“Who needs them…who needs her?” He stumbling a little. Pointing his finger in the air. “I am Magnus Bane. Theeeeee Magnus…Bane!” Ragnor rolled his eyes, as he held Magnus up.

“…My little green cabbage, why do they do this to me…why do they keep leaving me?” His voice softened, closes to tears. “I loved her…I am kind and nice.” He pouted looking at Ragnor. Holding the tears as best as he could. Ragnor looked sad. He hates seeing his friend hurt and the poor boy has been hurt and abused.  He pulled Magnus into a hug.

“Because they don’t deserve you…those kind of people are unworthy of The Magnus Bane…come on now, let’s get you home…you stupid hopeless beautiful fool.” He smiled at Magnus.

Magnus smiled back. “As long as I am your stupid hopeless beautiful fool.”

“Unfortunately, yes…now come on.” He helped Magnus up to his feet.

Ragnor could have made a portal and had them home soon, but he decided some fresh air was needed. Magnus was drinking too much and acting like a fool in love and lost. Ragnor debated to turned this girl named Tina into something. Anything, really. Anything that no longer had any power in breaking his friend’s heart. Mundanes and their terrible defaults.

As they walked. Magnus was walking slightly better. He wasn’t hitting against randomly objects or Ragnor. Magnus has finally changed the subject. After ranting about the girl and her terrible taste in food and music. He ended up talking about food. Describing food in great details and reciting perfectly word by word recipes of his favorite food. Magnus and his perfect memorizing skills. 

Magnus was drunk and now having the munchies.

“Ragnor, I am hungry. You need to feed…me…me” He pointed at himself. “Feed me…feeeeeed me…Sey…mo…mour…Seymour!” He giggled. 

“I will get you some spaghetti with meatballs from Antonio’s…let’s get you home first.”  Magnus looked happy, nodding.

“Meatballs…I want some meatballs…balls!” Magnus smirked and laughed at himself. Ragnor rolled his eyes.

As he got Magnus to walk again. Passing short comments while passing through the midnight hour in a city that never sleeps. The city’s streets are wet and cold from the melting snow and fogs of hot streams hollowed through the streets. Strangers and bystanders walking about in their own contained world with muffled conversations. 

They passed an electronic store with buzzing neon lights. Magnus stopped. A collection of television sets stacked up for sale on a window display. All turned on. One channel. The music is echoing through the windows.

“Who is this…beautiful creature in the gold pants?” Magnus eyes glued to a young man with a guitar in a silk blouse, soft hair, chest opened, and wearing some nicely tightened gold pants. Magnus likes gold pants.

“There’s some talk going ‘round town

That you really don’t give a damn

They say you really put me down

When I’m doing the best I can

I gave you all of my love

I even gave you my body…”

He was speaking to Magnus. He understood Magnus. Strange, how an upbeat song of heartbreaks was something Magnus needed. Magnus smiled. God, he was beautiful. The soft and gentle, yet high pitched voice with the perfectly synced beats was doing things to Magnus’ heart.

Magnus was in love. He was instantly a fan of this beautiful man. 

“…Tell me, baby, ain’t that enough?

What more do you want me to do?

I play the fool when we’re together

But I cry when we’re apart, yeah

I couldn’t do you no better

Don’t break what left of my broken heart, baby…”

Ragnor sighed and grinned as he joined Magnus by the window. Magnus was in awe and bliss. His head was bopping and nodding to the song. Whoever this man is at least he is a nice distraction for the long night ahead. 

Magnus needs a nice distraction.

“…Why you want to treat me so bad

When you know I love you?

How can you do this to me

When you know I care?

Why you want to treat me so bad

When you know I love you?…”

“…You know, I try so hard

To keep you satisfied

Sometimes you play the part

Sometimes you’re so full of pride

And if it’s still good to ya

Why you want to treat me so bad?…”

His name is Prince. And Magnus is in love. 

————————————————————————————

Author’s Note: I am so sorry to people named Christina, who likes to be called Tina. Sorry. 

Prince’s performance debut on an old show called, American Band Stand. The days when people discovered new artists and music…He was so adorable and shy….I love Prince and let’s be honest…Magnus loves Prince.