#DJ Calc

[artjipson]

Revisiting Tim: A Personal Journey Through The Replacements' Iconic Album

As we celebrate the Ed Stasium remix of The Replacements album Tim, we thought gathering other music lovers’ thoughts would be a great way to stop and consider the impact of this record. Our first ‘Revisit’ comes from our friend, Jim Doherty known as DJ Calc on WRKC Radio Kings College in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. One of the joys of parenting my children as they move through their teen years…

[jnnul]

nct dream in college

a/n: my third fucking time posting this istg this is why i quit the first time tumblr let me post things in peace

word count: 2.6k

tags: idk the frattiest boys in town doing what college dudes do, just fluff, hinting at insecurity + fear for the future, and a couple mentions of ppl not following their dreams for practicality sake but what can u do tw: mentions of drinking & underage drinking, mentions of sex but no graphics

Originally posted by choi-soobin

gif creds: @choi-soobin​

finance bro w a music minor

i’m so sorry to all of the ppl who hc him as a nerdy music kid who just always thinks abt music

but that boy is a finance bro thru and thru and i will die on that hill

he’s in a frat but he’s honestly rlly shitty abt act going to the non-party frat stuff

and even the parties, he rlly only goes to bc he dj’s every single time

ppl get annoyed sometimes bc mark always tries to slip in some of his stuff into the mix but it’s honestly so good that he gets away w it

his homies make fun of him for it but he sits in the first three rows bc a) he’s fucking blind and b) he act rlly likes finance

like he enjoys the idea of finance + what he could do w it in the future

even if he doesn’t necessarily like business calc

goes to church on sundays (if he’s not hungover) and will be so respectful abt it that he convinces some of his non-christian friends to go to

mark has a good rep on campus for being an all around pretty chill dude

everyone’s also half convinced that he’s a plug

swears up and down that he doesn’t smoke but ppl have videos of him puffin like it’s his side hustle

it is

kinda sticks to his own friend group bc he’s a little shy

but when he’s drunk (when someone wrestles him out of his little dj booth to do shots w them)

he knows everyone and their mother all of a sudden

kinda cute when he’s drunk cause he’s rlly lovey

ppl kinda like like him as that cute guy in their class but he never rlly goes out of his way to pursue anyone so anyone who’s interested has to be the one who chases

isn’t clueless but is oblivious until one day you’re basically sitting on his lap during lecture and he’s like 😟🤨🧐😏

the day he gets cuffed tho literally no one can pull him apart from his girl

Originally posted by rainbowrenjun

gif creds: @rainbowrenjun​

so...this might be controversial

but i think renjun would be a international relations major, not an art major

i feel like he’s a practical guy and he likes art but not enough to pursue it as a livelihood yannowhatimean

isn’t that well connected on campus bc he keeps his friend circle very exclusive but literally everybody and their mother knows him

kinda has a reputation for being a little cliquey but he gets away w it bc he’s just genuinely a decent guy who’s on the more private side

you will never catch him drunk

like he def won’t be sober at parties but you’re never gonna see him stumbling around

the type of guy to keep an eye on a girl’s cup if she leaves it somewhere, even if no one asks him to

also volunteers on the weekends at a local shelter for ppl of different nationalities

a private guy tho. ppl rlly don’t get to know or understand him unless they’re part of his friend group

which is nearly impossible to join

just kinda cruisin’ thru life bc he’s unproblematic and just rlly wants to get a degree and dip

gets the some of the best grades out of his friends (jeno is the only one who does better and jaemin make a close second) but donghyuck insists it’s bc renjun’s major isn’t a real major

chenle threatens to send the video of donghyuck and renjun slipping on their asses and falling into the pool as renjun tried to fight donghyuck to every single person that renjun even considers seeing romantically

probably dates once a year, eventually falls out of attraction and then swears off dating

until donghyuck gets on his ass abt not having sex and then renjun’s competitive streak gets activated

during which he speed dates for like three weeks before finding someone and then trying to date them

isn’t very emotionally invested in his romantic relationships

except for one of them, and ever since they told renjun off, he was unseperable from them

renjun may or may not have a masochist streak it’s still unclear

Originally posted by poppypeachy

gif creds: @jaemtens​

a physics and education double major

he didn’t really know what he wanted to go into so he was undeclared for the longest time until he took a physics gen ed and ever since then, he’s been super into physics

only added education as his second major after he ta’d for physics 1 and for the first time, could actually see himself in that career

gets the most shit for being in a frat and simultaneously being the biggest fucking nerd but he just thinks its funny

isn’t super smart (like he’s not a genius or anything) but he works rlly hard for his grades so even tho his friends (donghyuck) make fun of him, everyone is inspired by his work ethic

until it’s the weekend

and then it’s like he’s another person altogether

he’s downing shots like there’s no tomorrow and if jeno lee attends a party by himself, then he’s leaving with at least one person

on a particularly daring occasion, he was seen leaving with three

people are convinced that jeno has a twin brother bc of how bold, lively, and undeniably charismatic he gets when he lets go of his inhibitions

jeno just smiles a sweet smile and redirects the conversation

a very much go with a flow type of guy

he’s down for pretty much anything as long as he makes it home in time to study for the next day

spontaneous camping trip? sure. smoke a blunt? sure. join a threesome w one of his best friends and his girlfriend? sure.

he just didn’t take a lot of things too seriously (besides his academics and whether or not his dick got wet)

and that was why a lot of ppl liked him

he was also a rlly easy person to talk to

everyone knew that the first half of his office hours were for actual physics and stuff and the second half was just for chilling w him

which is how he met his s/o, actually

they used to come for office hours every single time jeno held them and would stay the whole time; it was only two weeks later when jeno accidentally saw their test scores (straight 90s without the curve) that he realized that maybe, he was in the clear to make a move

after the semester is over ofc

Originally posted by donghyuckkies

gif creds: @donghyuckkies​

a poli sci major with a minor (or as he likes to call it, a concentration) in criminal justice

will not let you forget that he’s in a frat

no one has the heart to tell him that he almost got kicked out of the frat 3 times but they keep him around bc he’s just a good guy overall

plus he brings the most girls to parties so it’s rlly not all that bad

the dude who’s surprisingly quiet and intellectual, but only when you catch him on his own

when he’s with his friends, he acts completely differently, even if he turns around and mouths “i’m sorry” while no one is looking

probably runs a club like devil’s advocate club but it’s just a silly club that uses university money to buy snacks, chill, and talk about controversial opinions

lowkey the guy to go to if you need something or need something done because the man knows everyone

and everyone knows him

will make fun of you for studying, and might even steal your textbook, but sends you a quizlet with last year’s answers bc that’s just the type of person he is

does not study. will not study. would rather listen to music w mark or party w jeno.

still has pretty decent grades bc he’s charming and persuasive and what is political science besides the art of professional bullshitting

once you get close to him, he becomes one of the best ppl for advice

will not let you go after the sneaky link turned situationship

mostly bc he knows exactly what said situationship is rlly up to behind the scenes (i’m telling you, the fbi wishes that had him; he knows everyone’s business)

will die before he tells anyone but probs runs one of those confession pages

partly how he gets all of his info from

thinks it’ll ruin his street cred if he tells ppl he’s secretly playing cupid and that’s why he’s always messing w seemingly random combos of ppl

until one day, a confession comes in for him

def one of those boys who ‘reforms’ after he meets his s/o but is a loving menace nonetheless

Originally posted by jae-min

gif creds: @jae-min​ 

microbiology major on the pre-med track with a minor in visual art

has tried dropping the pre-med track at least 4 times but absolutely will not bc he gets too much fomo

also wants a job. with guaranteed 401k compensation and benefits. so.

is one of the less toxic pre-med kids but only because he’s so close to dropping out that he just can’t seem to take or give a shit anymore

lives in a perpetual state of caffeine high bc he will be damned if jeno gets better grades than him

lowkey, i feel like he’s one of those guys who only goes to parties to find ppl to fuck

like he doesn’t rlly like to drink or smoke (although he will take the occasional eddie)

but mans is stressed from the constant personality clash (within himself) so he literally jackhammers his stress away

too crude? sorry.

was once upon a time in every single club known to mankind

dropped out of almost all of them when he made the friends he wanted to make

somehow always ends up having to pay when everyone goes out

doesn’t tell anyone that he always loses on purpose (unless it’s to chenle) bc he knows that college is tough and not everyone has the same financial freedom as he does

exclusively studies at the school library bc he doesn’t rlly spend time w his friends outside of his main friend group unless its while he’s studying or at a party

although he’s not rlly studying bc he probably already got the notes and answers from the people who took the class a semester earlier than him

but again, he’s got a competitive streak about his grades so studies anyway

which is where he meets his s/o bc they’re always sitting in the same spot, looking stressed as fuck as they study

one time, jaemin and the other person are the only two ppl left studying post 3 am during hell week and he offers to buy them coffee

studies w his lovely s/o from then onwards and offers to bite donghyuck whenever he tries to disturb them <3

Originally posted by istjun

gif creds: @istjun​

marketing major i’m so sorry

he’s just such a finance bro + business major but he hates finance so he goes into marketing instead

school is a fucking joke to him

he’ll try hard enough to get by in his classes (and bc just being around poor stressed out jisung gives him motivation to study) but no more and no less than that

the first one to call it quits when they’re all studying together but renjun practically tapes him to a chair

also surprisingly intuitive and good at marketing so even if he barely tries, professors love him and somehow make him pass anyway

knows every international kid on campus bc he gets what it’s like and makes an effort to make them feel more at home

gets invited to every party that the international kids throw and never looks at a frat ever again

they go so fucking hard at those parties that chenle, THE business major, gets tired and has to turn in pre-2 am to avoid alcohol poisoning

doesn’t get home until 7 pm the next day bc a) he’s hungover and b) they love him so much and force him to stay so he just bums at their place until he’s good to go

will make fun of you and your bad decisions (even if they aren’t that bad) but will protect you at every turn if anyone else tries to say smth

will fucking go to bat for ppl he doesn’t even know that well bc chenle hates mean ppl

is on the intramural basketball team w a couple other guys

is very popular on the team bc he always knows the best restaurants and has been known to pay when he knows someone’s a tight spot

is very lowkey abt his wealth bc ppl like to take advantage of it so the ppl he does choose to help out are also very lowkey abt it

the type of dude to spot you like $50 and won’t ask you abt it

but ppl always pay him back whenever they can bc they know he’s helping a lot of ppl in rough situations, even if he’s very hush hush abt it

is the reason why jisung joins a frat and singlehandedly boosts his rizz by a decameter

probably has a childhood sweetheart that lives at home so he doesn’t partake in the romance scene on campus at all

is in love with them and will boast abt being taken

Originally posted by fool4nct

gif creds: @fool4nct​

a dance major

impractical? maybe. but the world’s going to shit anyway so might as well do what you want, right?

that’s what chenle says to jisung the day that he’s applying to his top school

is literally the student that the school begs to have join

offered every single scholarship under the sun to have him join bc such raw talent is rare nowadays and he’s just stuck like 😟😟😟

bc he had no idea that he would get in, much less have them like him so much

but for all his talent, he’s always fucking stressed abt something

sometimes it’ll be about a choreo and other times it’ll be abt the fact that he’s almost 98% sure he won’t get a job after college but his friends always get him out of his head

has abt 6 friends on campus (total) and it’s bc of chenle

so after freshman year, he decides to get out of his shell a little bit

and jisung park is the MAN to be around when he does

he’s charismatic, tall, an amazing performer, and really, just such a suave guy that straight men kinda have that weird jealousy where he’s so cool ppl wanna be friends w him and also hate him

still gets insecure abt his skills or his future but has ppl around him who love him and help him out of it every time

i’m ngl i think that he singlehandedly makes the dance team tryout numbers go from 12 - 15 ppl to 50 - 60 ppl

dance is his entire life and when he’s not rizzing up ppl (or honestly, getting rizzed up by them; he can’t flirt for shit when he rlly wants to) he’s on the dance floor

donghyuck has had to physically rip him off the floor to get dinner after a particularly rough night

even his fave dance teacher revoked his after class dance room privileges bc ppl got worried abt how much time he spent in there

decides to take a break when he realizes just how empty his days are w/o dance

gets into music production and has worked w mark more than once under pseudonyms

won’t say anything but listens to what everyone says abt the song when mark plays it at a party

still working on himself so a s/o isn’t rlly in the picture but ppl are not mad abt it bc he’s a good time with or w/o commitment

[pharaohbean]

sometimes you just need a college update

and woo boy do i have one for you!

Literature: class last tuesday got canceled again. turns out “being sick” meant something nerve related bc. he mentioned a neurologist! (also explains why he bounced back so quickly). anyways his idea of great media was watching the british crime show Luther. yes THAT Luther. (hes right btw but also why.) just the first ep but. man. also we have to write a paper on it lmao

Calculus: my teacher is definitely terrified of me in a good way. he learned i already took AP calc BC so! (sorry im very happy with this guy) also we FINALLY LEARNED DERIVATIVES!!! im so excited derivates are so easy to use (however i was banned from Cheating [power rule])

History: OH MAN. so today we were vibing in class, class ends at 11:15am. 15 minutes out from class, there is a SUBWOOFER outside, BLASTING the bass. you can hear it from inside. prof had to stop and go “?????”. TURNS OUT! IT WAS A DJ! FOR A CAMPUS SECURITY EVENT (i am Not Kidding). anyways that was hilarious.

Physics: Please Get Me Out Of Here (so much is wrong with this class)

[safety-pin-punk]

Prep for a dj gig >>>>> study for calc exam

[autisticsupervillain]

It's Fictional Throwdown Friday!

This Week's Fighters...

Agent 47 vs The Rake!

Note: This was written before the most recent calcs for 47. As such, it is preemptively a bit outdated, as this analysis only accounts for 47's old stats.

Conditions:

Agent 47 is completely unarmed. Speed Equalized. The version of The Rake being used is the one from the original Rake story, as well as official expansions of it, such as the retelling from Creepypasta: The Comic

Scenario:

Father Emilio Vittorio, the pastor who took 47 in during his retirement in Silent Assassin, is brutally murdered by The Rake, but not before it whispers 47's name to the pastor, marking the hitman as its next target. 47 returns to the Silican countryside to investigate and avenge Emilio's murder. After a day or two of investigation, 47 wakes up one night to find The Rake sitting at the edge of his bed.

Analysis: Agent 47

"Names are for friends, so I don't need one."

One day, the International Contract Agency found a mysterious man knocking on their front door. The man had no name, no history, and seemingly no personality. All he had was a remarkable gift for murder, as if he were the grim reaper himself. He said he went by 47. It wasn't a name, so he made it one. He became the ICA's greatest assassin and paved a legacy of death everywhere he went.

In truth, Agent 47 was a clone, created by Dr. Ortmyer in an attempt to create the world's greatest assassin. Unfortunately for Ortmyer, he succeeded. 47 killed his pseudo father, and struck out on his own. Left directionless by the revelation of his birth, 47 attempted to start a normal life for himself. Unfortunately, he found that his only talents were in killing people. So, he decided to he was going to be the best there ever was at it. He would kill the most powerful people in the world for the right price and prove that no one, no matter how powerful, was above consequences.

Agent 47 is a master of stealth and disguise unlike any other. He's considered a myth to law enforcement agencies all around the world and has repeatedly killed people with the same level of mythic status as himself. Those who do know he exists would much rather hire him than make him their enemy. A smart move considering he tears down international conspiracies on a weekly basis.

Agent 47 is quiet the Renaissance Man, even rivaling Mario for the title. He's more than capable of doing nearly any job on the planet and is capable of using anything as a weapon. He can knock grown, fully armoured men out cold with snowballs and feather dusters. He can kill people with umbrellas, pencils, and pens. He can even use fire extinguishers as improvised grenades. An Agent 47 armed with only his garrote wire, silver baller pistol, and coins is best considered fully armed and dangerous, but he's capable of using much more.

Similarly, 47 is smart enough to competently perform any job on Earth, even frequently imitating and impressing experts in his field. Butlers, Doctors, DJs, CEOs, Engineers, and so on and so forth. He has successfully disguised himself as close loved ones of his targets and is fluent enough in most languages to pass himself off as a native speaker. This vast array of knowledge allows him to improvise countless ways to kill his targets. From drowning you in a toilet, tricking your bodyguards into killing you, manipulating your wife into pushing you off a bridge, driving you to grief stricken suicide, or even running you over with a goddamn train, if there's a way to kill someone, he's thought of it and performed it with no one any the wiser.

On top of his superhuman intellect, 47 is superhuman physically as well. He can survive exposure to the freezing cold temperatures of the Carpathian mountains while mostly naked, is immune to nearly every poison and disease known to man (baring few exceptions) has survived being electrocuted while standing in water (albiet was knocked out by this) and has a resistance to mind control so great that the person trying to mind control him died from the sheer backlash. It has even been noted by an implied psychic (who was clairvoyant enough to deduce a client's criminal history) that 47 has an aura of death looming around him that strikes terror into anyone capable of seeing it. And since 47 doesn't physically age, he will never grow out of his prime. As such, he's still kicking ass well into 59, easily outperforming men half his age.

Agent 47 also has the Instinct ability, a sixth sense that allows him to see through walls and can predict where his targets are going. However, he cannot use this ability in open combat.

47 has snuck into the White House undetected, frequently dismantles international conspiracies and secret societies, and is strong and skilled enough to defeat a middleweight MMA World Champion in only three blows. He even bested Sanchez, a genetically engineered superhuman who was twice his size, in unarmed combat.

If 47 has any weaknesses at all, it's that he rarely makes an emotional connections with anyone. The trauma of his ruthless upbringing has left him emotionally distant and he struggles to emotionally connect with others. Those he does care about he will do anything to protect, even against suicidal odds. Similarly, he has repressed many of the memories of his childhood, partly due to trauma and partly due to mindwiping drugs, and he frequently questions his place in the universe due to his upbringing. 47 doesn't think he's capable of committing to any line of work that doesn't involve murder, without hurting the few people he holds dear.

Still, 47 is for all intents and purposes the perfect killing machine. His most impressive feat physically speaking is when the Saints blew up his hotel room with an RPG-7, which 47 survived without a scratch. Assuming the absolute lowest yield for an RPG-7, that's still nearly 878 kilojoules of energy. Seeing how 47 can hurt people on his level, see Sanchez above, 47 should also be capable of punching with this amount of force as well.

Agent 47 was an attempt to create the world's greatest assassin and he was a complete success. Unfortunately for his creators, he was still human. This meant that they were the first in a long list of people to discover just how well they'd succeeded.

Analysis: The Rake

Urban Legends. Camp fire ghost stories that spread beyond the friend group that spawned them and strike fear into the hearts of hundreds across the world. The internet has become a breeding ground for countless urban legends, spawning mythical monsters that haunt the early years of the internet known as "Creepypastas". One of the oldest and most well known of these tales is The Rake, the animalistic abomination that whispers your name.

Journal entires dating as far back as the 1600s describe a pale, malnourished figure with long, metal claws and a soul piercing glare. This feral figure has rubbed shoulders with countless people across history and claimed numerous more victims in that time, yet precious little is known about it. It's known that it can communicate, though it does not speak. It thinks, though it is not civilized. It controls, but with no clear agenda other than death and misery.

Despite The Rake's monsterous disposition, it rarely feels a need to strike directly. Instead, he takes a hold of his victim's mind and has them do the dirty work for him. He can drive people to suicide and freeze them completely in place with a glare. He often communicates with his prey, if not to control their minds, then to instead whisper the name of its next victim, marking his target as damned.

Despite this heavily reliance on telepathy and mind control, The Rake is just as dangerous physically as its appearance would suggest. It is capable of completely ripping people to shreds and is described as looking like it had recently been hit by a car, despite having no visible injuries. While the values for getting hit by a car vary wildly depending on circumstances, which aren't described here, the highest value is up to 734 kilojoules.

Source:

If you find that high end debatable, then do note that it is consistent with the Rake's other feats. Not only is ripping apart a human being generally around that same level (See Freddy Fazbear vs Frankenstein), but it's feat in the comic adaptation provides a similar a level of durability. In it, the Rake is depicted as jumping from the top floor of a several story apartment and landing completely unharmed. This would require the Rake to absorb 98 kilojoules of energy upon landing.

Source:

Though, the vagueness of these feats ultimately plays into the Rake's ultimately weakness. By virtue of being a digital campfire story, The Rake and its capabilities are left deliberately vague. Not only did I have to stretch a bit to ascertain the above feats, but I can only really guess at how an entity like The Rake thinks. It's never shown as being truly threatened by anything. When someone does try to shoot him in the comic adaptation, The Rake simply freezes him in place with his mind controlling powers, which does at least imply that it avoids direct combat as often as possible.

What is known is this. The Rake has been alive and hunting for well over hundreds of years. The sheer body count it would have amassed with its known MO is absolutely massive. And absolutely known of those victims, in all those years, were able to survive it.

One day, you will awaken to see The Rake sitting at the end of your bed. It will be the last thing you see and the name it whispers will be the last thing you hear. Prey that it isn't the name of someone you love.

Throwdown Mashup:

Throwdown Breakdown:

On the surface, you'd think this would be an open shut case. Trying to mind control 47 kills you and The Rake's Modus Operandi is mental manipulation. Done deal, right? Well, not quite.

Yes, you will die if you try to mind control 47, that still takes a bit of time. When Hush tried, he managed to withstand the psychic backlash three times before his brain gave up and shut down. When considered along side 47's aura of death, which The Rake might or might not be able to see, and there's a distinct possibility that The Rake will simply stop trying to mind control him and go in for the mauling.

From here, it becomes more interesting. 47 has a considerable skill advantage and is slightly stronger (878 kilojoules vs 734), he's not fighting a human here. He's fighting a feral, humanoid thing with giant claws. Most martial artists will tell you that going up against someone armed with a knife unarmed is absolutely stupid, to say nothing of a feral animal with giant claws for hands. 47 is going to have a rough time.

The thing that ultimately makes this 47's game, though, is his ability to improvise. Literally anything in his hands is a deadly weapon and an apartment building gives him a lot to work with. Slamming lamps over the Rake's head, jamming pens and glass shards in its eyes, even strangling it with his tie. Then there's 47's endurance and stamina to consider. 47 is able to climb from the very top of the tallesr building in the world all the way to the bottom in one go and he's able to evade the police in Paris even after being shot, bleeding out for hours, and experiencing bloodloss enduced hallucinations. 47 should have the endurance needed to survive the Rake's carving swings for long enough to pummel the creature to death.

You know that brutal fight between the Punisher and The Russian from the early 2000s Punisher movie?

That's it. That's this fight.

47 is going to be bloodied and battered by the time this fight ends. His suit will be torn to shreds and his apartment will be trashed.... but he'll be alive.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Agent 47!

[peterparkersnose]

wont shut up about you

canon!peter x reader

word count: 949

warnings: alcohol consumption 

summary: Y/N is Liz Allen’s best friend. She has a horrible crush on Peter, and Liz is sick of hearing about it. So, naturally she invites Peter to one of her parties. 

a/n is alcohol consumption a warning? idk i just want to keep all of you safe, sorry if it seemed stupid. tom is such a cutie oml

read time: 3 mins 27 seconds

masterlist

“Liz, this is stupid,” you sighed, sitting down on her couch. “Inviting Peter was a bad idea,” 

“Y/N, I’ve heard you talk about him for weeks now. It’s now or never.” Liz said, placing out plastic cups on her counter. “I doubt he’ll even come,” she laughed. “Hopefully,” you scoffed. “People are going to start showing up soon, come help.”

Liz’s house became alive. Flash’s DJ skills were average, but the people really helped the feel. And so did the booze. You were dancing in Liz’s living room with your classmates when you spotted Ned’s hat. “Jesus,” you whispered to yourself and snuck away to the bathroom. 

“Your okay, calm down. He’s just a boy.” you said to yourself, splashing cold water in your face. You heard a knock on the door followed by a “Y/N?”. It was Liz. “Oh thank god,” you said, pulling her into the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” she asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. “He’s here,” 

Liz’s eyes lit up as she grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the bathroom. “Peter!” she sang out, you tried pulling against her but her grip was too strong. “Oh h-hey!” Peter stuttered. “Hey Liz! Hey Y/N!” Ned said and gave you a warm smile. “Peter have you met my friend Y/N?” Liz asked, getting straight to the point. “Liz,” you gritted between your teeth. “Uh- I think we had pre calc together last semester,” Peter said.

Awwh, he remembered. 

“Well she hasn’t been able to shut up about you lately! You two should talk,”

“Liz! She’s lying uh- i’m sorry- uh,” you stuttered, your face plastered red up to your ears. Peter looked shocked and a bit embarrassed. “I really wish you wouldn’t have,” you gritted between your teeth in Liz’s ear. 

The DJ Flash ringtone went off distracting you all. “Penis Parker!” Flash yelled through the speakers. Peter’s face began to match yours. “Oh, just ignore him.” Liz laughed. You envied her ability to be so social. “You guys want a drink?” she asked the boys. They followed you guys to the kitchen. 

Liz got pulled away by another one of her friends and Peter seemed to disappear, leaving you and Ned together in the kitchen. 

“You know- Peter has this amazing party trick,” he said, smiling to himself. “Oh cool,” you smiled, awkwardly standing around. Ned took a tiny sip of his drink and immediately choked it back up. “Not for me,” he laughed and set down his cup. “So, you haven’t been able to shut up about Peter?” he asked. “Oh, jees, uh Liz likes to exaggerate.” you awkwardly laughed. “Well that’s unfortunate because Peter hasn't been able to shut up about you since pre calc,” Ned said, immediately regretting what he said. “Oh, I mean-” “Ned are you joking?”

“Uh, I don’t know if I should answer that.” he said, feeling guilty. “No because-” “Hey guys!” Liz said, finding you again. You abandoned Ned and pulled Liz back into the bathroom. 

“Ned just- he- uh- Peter- I,” “Y/N calm down! What is it?” “Ned said Peter doesn’t shut up about me,” you breathed. You two squealed. “Okay, okay. You got this!” Liz said and shoved you out of the bathroom, and to your luck straight into Peter. He spilt his drink all over his shirt. “Shit, I’m so so sorry I-” “Oh! No worries,” Peter laughed it off. The awkward energy radiated between you two. “Here, let me help you.” you said, leading Peter into the kitchen. “Really it’s fine you don't have to,” he said, his shirt sopping wet with alcohol. “This is un fixable- shit. Come with me,” you said grabbing his hand, ignoring the horrible tension between you two. 

You lead him into Liz’s older brother’s room. He was currently in college and had left some old clothes here. You rummaged through his closet as Peter sat on the bed. You pulled out an old tourist shirt that said ‘I survived my trip to NYC’. “Perfect,” 

You threw him the shirt and turned around for him to change. The shirt was about three sizes too big for him. “I can put the other one in the wash, if you’d like.” you offered. “Uh, yeah, sure. Probably a good idea, I don't want my Aunt coming home to find me smelling of beer,” he laughed. You smiled. “I’m really sorry about all of this- all of tonight.” you sighed, crumpling up Peter’s wet shirt in your hand. “It’s alright. It’s my first party anyways, I had no clue what to expect.” he smiled. “Your first party?” you asked. Peter nodded his head. “You want to dance?” you asked him. His eyes lit up. “S-sure,” he smiled. On the way to the dance floor you threw his shirt in the wash. 

Flash was playing all the party classics. “How do I do this?” Peter yelled over all the noise. “Here, just go with the rhythm.” You said, pulling his hands around your waist. Your bodies intertwined and danced to the rhythm of the songs. “I love this song!” Peter whispered in your ear as the song changed. He put his arms around you once again and his forehead against yours. He could smell the alcohol on your breathe. You felt the natural pull of gravity between your lips and his. Peter was hesitant, but you made the first move. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline or the booze going through your system but you kissed him hard. 

“P-p-penis Parker getting some action on the dance floor!” Flash announced. You kept kissing Peter and gave flash the finger. The two of you danced until the end of the night.

[missinghan]

give it a chance ⤖ lee minho

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

❖ word count : 9,6k.

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

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

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

one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

two. 

“Your boyfriend is late.”

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

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

“I’m not fucking sad!”

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

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

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

Are you sad about that? 

Yeah, kinda.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you let me drink irresponsibly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Very timely, your phone buzzes on the wooden counter.

[10:38 AM]

lino | hey you still on campus?

three.

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

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

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

This is not healthy. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you think that this is weird?”

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

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

“Hmm, what about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

four.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you even? Four?”

He winks at you, “Baby me, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you go any fucking slower?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I decided to come because Yeji wanted me-“

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

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

Chan butts in, “Make that fifty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I blame gravity for that.”

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

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

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

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

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

If only it were that easy.  

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

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

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

five.

“Y/N you ass, give it back!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you—”

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

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

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

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

“Huh where—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, no, she’s mine.”

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

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

six.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What dumb things?”

“I don’t know, kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am home.”

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

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

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

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

After all, you can’t love alone. 

[djts-arts]

that really sucks to hear dj, she probably hasn't seen pictures of females rocking undercuts... and honestly undercuts are pretty gender neutral in my opinion, i've seen more females with undercuts than males tbh (speaking of gender identity, i wanna strangle a dude in my class for being a hecking heck when it comes to it) -⭐️

I use to have a pixie cut two years ago. She was ok with it. The undercut just set her off today. Lol.

She's right now stuck in the past. Hopefully she'll get over it

(Do it!!!!!!

I wanted to strangle my grade 12 calc teacher for being homophobe. Like bitch mine your business. His now in america I think)

[tarditardi]

Modus Dj e Manolo Terruzzi insieme al DVCA di Milano per un mix di cucina e musica

Chi ama la buona musica, soprattutto la house e la buona cucina può cliccare su Instagram, precisamente al link in calce a questo testo. Infatti Modus Dj (nella foto sulla destra) e lo chef Manolo Terruzzi hanno dato vita insieme ad una performance decisamente inedita, uno al mixer e l'altro ai fornelli, al DVCA di Milano (https://dvca.it,  via Rovello 18), ristorante già molto conosciuto da chi in città vuol viziarsi un po'. Non è una collaborazione casuale: Modus Dj è resident in questo spazio e spesso dà il giusto ritmo a dinner show e party esclusivi.

Come dice la parola stessa, gli chef di solito comandano... ma per una volta è stata la musica a dettare il ritmo di questa 'performance': "Lo chef si è mosso organizzando i piani di lavoro in base alla sua ispirazione e alla programmazione della giornata, ma i 'tempi' chiaramente venivano dettati dai dischi che via via selezionavo", continua Modus Dj, uno che di cibo ne sa. Eccome. "Ecco una top tre dei miei piatti preferiti, ovviamente tutti da gustare al DVCA. Parto con un primo del Nord, anche se sono pugliese: risotto della riseria di Nori alla milanese con pistilli di zafferano e midollo. Come secondo scelgo un cubo di maialino da latte cotto a bassa temperatura laccato al miele con schiacciata di patate all'extravergine. Per finire, un bicchiere tutto pistacchio tra il dolce e il salato... ditemi voi se non sono una buona forchetta.

E' un video dj set dal sound decisamente house. "Lo chef Teruzzi è un grande cultore della techno e della tech house, ha girato il mondo seguendo i migliori esponenti di questo genere, da Carl Cox  a Sven Vath, da Nina Kraviz Marco Carola",  spiega Modus Dj. "Non potevo stravolgere la mia idea iniziale, cioè proporre soprattutto musica 'funky, groove'...126 bpm perfetti per fare ballare lo chef e i suoi piatti. E a un certo punto ho pure proposto 'Music Is The Answer' di Danny Tenaglia nel remix di Pagano... e ho visto negli occhi dello chef tanti cuoricini, per un ritorno brillante agli anni che furono".

Modus Dj + Moreno Terruzzi (chef) @ DVCA Milano https://www.instagram.com/p/CFrLHvPHqCa/

Chi è Modus Dj http://lorenzotiezzi.it/modus-dj/

special adv by ltc - lorenzo tiezzi comunicazione

[petertingle-yipyip]

Saturday Nights - Peter Parker

//Requested by @mixed-fandoms-girl: Peter Parker x reader Peter Parker x Smart! girlfriend! reader she’s the smartest kid but doesn’t go to midtown and when flash is making fun of Peter at Liz’s party and talks about his imaginary girlfriend, she shows up and proves flash wrong //

//Warnings: Language. Pairings: Peter x reader//

You laid in Peter’s bed and read over your math assignment, waiting for him to get home from school. Dating someone who was as smart if not smarter than yourself was great. The only thing that made it a struggle was going to different schools. Your parents wanted to send you to Midtown School of Science and Technology, but you were adamantly against it. You had nothing against Midtown or the kids that went there. It would’ve been a great fit for you academically. You just liked being at a normal, public school that had a little bit of everything, not just the typical “smart” subjects. Your current school was a more social environment, more lax and fun.

Often, you went to Peter’s after you got out of school. You ended school about an hour before he did, but after picking up snacks for you two to study with and the walk to his apartment, your arrivals were only about twenty minutes apart. Aunt May always welcomed you in, joking that you might as well get a key. She absolutely loved you being with Peter, saying it made him so happy.

“Hey!” He said happily as he entered his room and tossed his backpack by his bed. You rolled over, pushing yourself to sit up and tossed your assignment aside. “Working on homework?”

“Nah, just looking at it.” You shrugged. “You know Calculus kills me and I avoid it for as long as humanly possible.”

“I can always help you, you know.” He offered, dropping to lay in his bed with his head in your lap. “I’m actually really smart.” He said proudly.

“I never would’ve guessed.” You teased, tugging on the Midtown sweatshirt he was wearing. “Besides, I’m pretty smart myself in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“What’s the topic?” He laughed.

“Derivatives.” You said, handing him your assignment. “Literally the worst part of Calc.”

“I always thought logarithms were worse.” He countered.

“Don’t even get me started on logs!” You said with a laugh. “Those are literally the devil of mathematics. Honestly, why do they even exist? But derivatives are torture. Who say around and thought that derivatives needed to be a necessary concept? What do they prove? They prove how useless they are, that’s about it. And then there’s anti-derivatives and those really make me wanna hit myself in the face with my textbook.”

“But your face is too cute to hit with a book.” He said with a stupid grin and he reached up with his other hand and patted your cheek affectionately.

“You are so cheesy.” You laughed.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, letting his hand drop to his chest. “But you like it. You find it endearing.”

“Your vocabulary is astounding, my dear.” You nodded. “But have you ever stopped to contemplate the philosophy that I, as a female, was just so infatuated with your virtue, your true innocence, that I could not help but swoon and give my heart to the lovable virtuoso that is, Peter Parker?” You said, using your best scholastic voice.

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. I have gone over the possibility oh so many times.” He said with an exaggerated sigh. “Alas, there is not enough evidence to prove such a theory. Being that this virtuoso you speak of can only attract someone with a similar talent and aptitude, what else would be so outstanding about one, Peter Parker?”

“An interesting question, indeed.” You stifled a laugh. “Maybe it’s the suit.” You winked.

Of course you knew Peter was Spiderman. He didn’t mean for you to find out. He did everything in his power to hide it from you. You found out by accident. You had been staying the night at his place and restlessness had taken over. You couldn’t sleep and had rolled over to find an empty bed. You figured Peter had gotten up for water or needed to use the bathroom so you paid it no mind. But once his window opened and he crept through it carefully, your mind tried to convince you it was a dream. The next morning, you asked Peter flat out if he was Spiderman, and his stammering and lack of excuses proved you right.

“Oh, is that right?” He raised an eyebrow as his cheeks turned a slight pink.

“Yeah.. I mean, have you seen yourself in the suit?” You laughed.

“Have you seen yourself in that denim skirt?” He replied with a cocky smirk.

“Touche, Parker.” You nodded with a smile still.

“Hey, are you busy this weekend?” He asked suddenly, dropping your work on the floor.

“Actually, yes.” You nodded, gently running your fingers through his hair. “But I can easily cancel my plans for you. What did you have in mind?”

“No, if you’re busy it’s okay.” He shook his head. “I just thought you could use something to ease your stress..”

“Peter, what did you have in mind?” You repeated your question with a soft smile. “I’d cancel plans with anyone to spend time with you. Plus, I only made these plans cause you and I didn’t have anything planned. Besides, there’s a few different ways you can help with my stress. ” You winked. His cheeks flushed pink again.

“It’s just.. Liz is having a party this weekend and I was hoping that you would want to come with me..” He said with a small shrug, as if it was out of the ordinary for you two to do things together. It reminded you of when he asked you out for the first time and it brought a soft smile to your face and a warmth to your heart.

“Liz, isn’t she the girl you liked before me?” You questioned.

You had no issues with Liz. She never made you feel insecure in your relationship or with yourself. In fact, you were rather curious in regards to her. You never met her, but had heard all about her. You knew Ned and met Michelle on a few occasions. But never Liz.

Peter jumped up quickly, causing you to jump slightly. He turned to face you, taking your hands in his tightly. “Not like that! Not like that at all!” He explained quickly. You were still surprised by his quick actions and you couldn’t stop your laughter.

“Pete, I’m not worried about Liz. I never have been.” You explained with a smile. “Of course, I’ll go with you. I finally get to meet her.”

“Wait, you want to meet her?” He asked in shock.

“Yeah, I mean why not?” You shrugged, letting go of one of his hands to lean down and pick up your math work. “I can finally see who you liked before you met me... Now, help me get through these derivatives and we’ll talk more about it. Or we can start a different stress reliever.”

“You don’t need my help and you know it, Y/N. Except maybe for the stress relief.” He laughed, taking his own backpack off the floor. “You’re the smartest girl I know.”

“Maybe...” You hinted. “But it’s cute when you explain things for me. I mean, you are pretty smart after all..”

The night of Liz’s party, Aunt May offered to pick you up. You told her it was fine and your mom could take you since you needed a bit more time to get ready. You texted Peter, telling him you’d be there soon as you hopped into your mom’s car.

At the party, Peter and Ned wandered the crowd.

“She’s gonna be here soon.” Peter assured his friend as he checked his phone and saw your message.

Leaving right now. mom’s dropping me off but i’ll probably go home with you if you dont mind. be there soon xx

“What are you gonna do till she gets here?” Ned asked. “Everyone doesn’t believe she’s real. Everyone even thinks the pictures you have are photoshopped!”

“I’m just gonna be myself.” Peter shrugged slightly.

“Peter, no one wants that.” Ned said in return.

“Hey!” Flash announced on the microphone. “It’s Penis Parker! Hey dumbass, where’s your girlfriend? Is she studying for this ‘other school’ she goes to?” He tormented.

“Told you.” Ned sighed and Peter rolled his eyes.

“She’ll be here.” Peter assured. “She’s on the way, I swear.”

You stepped out of the car in front of Liz’s house, the bass hitting so hard you could hear it on the street. Your mom asked when you needed to be picked up, but you waved her off, saying you would go home with Peter. You pulled your phone out to call him as you entered the house.

“Did your imaginary girlfriend bail on you? When I say Penis, you say Parker. Penis!” A boy said, the crowd following his instructions.

“That must be Flash.” You muttered as you pushed through the people. You saw Ned’s hat over the top of the crowd and made your way over there.

“Hello, Lover Boy.” You smiled widely as you finally found your boyfriend. You kissed him quickly before greeting his friend. “Hey, Ned. Nice hat.” You wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and his arm came around your shoulder. You leaned into him slightly and used your other hand to reach up and lace your fingers together.

“Thanks Y/N!” Ned smiled.

“So, I’m guessing the asshat on the mic is that kid Flash?” You asked the boys, glancing to the DJ booth.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Ned confirmed.

“He’s a bitter little boy, isn’t he?” You joked. “Oh! Sorry I’m late, by the way. I couldn’t decide between the blue and red stripes or the black and green stripes to match the denim skirt.”

“The blue and red is nice.” Peter said kindly.

“Like Spiderman!” Ned exclaimed.

“Uh, yeah... I guess.” You replied with a smile.

“You have a crush on Spiderman!” Ned said in amusement. “So does she..” He nodded to something behind you. Before you could question, you were greeted by a friendly voice.

“Peter, Ned!” A girl said as she came up and joined the group. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I told you we’d be here.” Ned said happily. “Oh, Peter. Introduce her!” He said quietly.

“Right! Sorry.” Peter laughed slightly. “Y/N, this is Liz. Liz, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Girlfriend? Wow. Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that or anything I just didn’t know Peter had a girlfriend.” Liz said with a smile. It was a sad smile, as if she was upset Peter had a girlfriend. Maybe she was harboring some feelings for him.

“From what I can tell,  no one believes he does.” You laughed and nodded towards Flash. “Apparently, I’m imaginary.”

“You look pretty real to me.” She laughed. “I’ve never seen you around before. Are you new or-”

“No, I actually don’t go to Midtown.” You shook your head. “I had the option before this year started but I didn’t want to. It’s too... focused for me, I guess is the best way to put it. I just like the range of classes a regular high school offers.”

“But she’s a genius!” Ned interjected.

“I wouldn’t say that but I’m alright.” You said modestly.

“Alright? Y/N, you’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met!” Peter countered.

“Really?” Liz questioned with a bit of bitterness in her voice. “That smart, huh?”

“So they say.” You shrugged. “Sorry if this is weird but you are really pretty.” You complemented honestly.

“You think so? Thank you! I love that top. Red and blue look so good together!” She replied. “Well, I have to make my rounds so have fun. Drinks are in the kitchen, if you need anything.” She nodded with a perfect hostess smile before leaving.

“I don’t think she likes me very much..” You commented as she walked away.

“I thought I was the only one picking up on that.” Ned agreed.

“What are you guys talking about?” Peter questioned. “I think that went okay.”

“Okay, but Peter, there’s an unspoken rule between girls that when a girl compliments you, you compliment her back.” You explained. “It’s a whole thing focused on women supporting women.”

“But if it’s unspoken, how is every girl supposed to know?” Peter questioned.

“They just do. It’s practically in our DNA. I’ll show you.” You said, turning to see Michelle not to far away.

“Hey, Michelle!” You called for her attention. “That dress is cute!” You smiled.

“Huh? Oh, thanks.” She said casually. “Your skirt looks good.” She nodded.

“See what I mean?” You said to Peter.

“I can’t believe you guys are at this lame party.” She told the boys.

“But... you’re here?” Ned replied, just as confused as the rest of us.

“Am I?” She said before disappearing into the crowd.

“She’s interesting...” You thought out loud. “I like her.”

“So wait, is there an issue between you and Liz or...” Peter asked.

You giggled slightly. “No, not an issue. I just don’t think she likes me.”

“Well, Liz has a crush on Spiderman.” Ned explained. “But it kinda seems like she has a crush on Peter, too.”

“Alright, how much is he paying you?” Flash asked as he suddenly stood in front of you.

“Excuse me?” You said in offense. “Fuck out of here with that.”

“How much did Parker pay you to show up and pretend to be his date?” Flash clarified.

“He didn’t pay me, you ass. He asked cause I’m his girlfriend.” You laughed in annoyance. “Which I’m assuming is more than you have based on your immaculate personality..” You added sarcastically. “You’ll catch more flies with honey... I’m just saying.”

“So you’re Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“The genius that doesn’t go to Midtown?”

“Yeah.”

“Prove it.” He challenged. “Or are you just some above average public school kid that actually has more than three functioning brain cells?”

“What do you wanna know, dickwad?” You said confidently.

“What is the most abundant protein in the human body?”

“Duh, collagen. 25-35 percent of the human body is collagen, which forms connective tissue like the ligaments, tendons, and skin. Next.”

“What’s the anti-derivative of a cosecant squared?”

“I hate calculus. Negative cotangent of x plus the constant, k. Don’t insult me by asking kindergarten questions.”

“Definition of antiestablishmentarianism.”

“Not much of a challenge. EVen though I doubt you can even spell antiestablishmentarianism.” You laughed. “It’s a political philosophy that views a nation's or society's power structure as corrupt, repressive, exploitative, or unjust. It’s basically opposition to the conventional principles of society.”

“Who introduced the theory of punctuated equilibrium?”

“Obviously, Gould and Eldredge. And that’s all the time we have for today on How Can This Random Asshole Ruin This Date With My Boyfriend featuring This Random Asshole.” You said in a gameshow host type voice.

“And you’re seriously dating him?” He pointed to Peter.

“Obviously.” You sighed in annoyance. “And you go to Midtown? Maybe I should transfer that way someone can actually challenge Peter on an intellectual level and not compensate by being a physical challenge. I mean, who does that anymore?”

“Are you blind or something?”

“No, cause I can see exactly how ugly your personality is, but then again I’m not a genius, remember? Above average public school kid that actually has more than three functioning brain cells, I believe is what you called me.”

“How did you even meet? He’s a total loser.”

“What’s it to you?” You laughed. “Your dumbass didn’t believe I was real five minutes ago. Plus, you’ve been getting on my last nerve so if we’re done here, you can leave.”

“Why would you even consider dating him? You’re hot enough that you could date like, young Leonardo DiCaprio or something.”

“Who wouldn’t wanna date Peter?” You said as if it was obvious. “He’s peak boyfriend material.”

And to you it was. Peter was beautiful. He was sweet, kind, smart. He held the door open for you and stayed up late on the phone with you until you fell asleep. He offered help with your homework and asked you to stay with him almost every other night. He made cheesy jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at. He was shy and awkward. But that’s what made him so perfect to you.

“Are you convinced yet, cause I’m growing rather uninterested with you.” You said plainly.

“You’re lying.” He crossed his arms, refusing to believe you. “There’s no way Penis Parker scores a total babe like you.”

“Tell me then, Flash, since you seem to know my life. If I was lying, would I do this?” You said slowly, turning to face Peter.

“What are you doing?” Peter whispered, slightly nervous.

“Just trust me.” You said in the same hushed tone with a small chuckle.

You took his face in your hands and pulled him to you. Your lips met softly at first, you pulling away a few times to tease him. He smiled against your lips as his hands fell to your hips and gently pulled you closer. You two kissed each other deeply, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. When you were out of breath, you pulled away and smiled. Peter’s cheeks flushed a bright red, a shy smile graced his face.

“See? I told you to trust me.” You winked before you turned to face the bully who stared at you two in shock.

“So not only are you Peter’s alternate for the academic decathlon, but he has a girlfriend before you do.” You laughed. “You talk a big game for someone in second place.”

“I.. But you’re- And he’s-” Flash stammered.

“Bye, now.” You wiggled your fingers and Flash slowly walked away, still muttering an incoherent response.

“That.. was.. hilarious!” Ned said loudly. “I’ve never seen Flash look so flustered!”

“It’s what he deserves.” You shrugged with a proud smile. “Now, why are we standing around still? This is a party after all! Let’s dance!” You said happily as you dragged Peter to the dancefloor.

“No, Y/N I- I don’t- I don’t really dance.” He said nervously.

“No one really dances at parties!” You said over the music. “Everyone just jumps around or find the closest person to grind on. No big deal. Just go with it, Pete.”

You spent the rest of the night on the dancefloor with Peter. Ned came and went but you were focused on Peter. His hands on your waist. Your hands on his arms.

“This is cute.” You tugged the top of his flannel that he left unbuttoned. “You always look cute in a flannel.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, a red tint finding his cheeks again. “Hey, thanks for coming.”

“Anything for you, Peter. Anything for you.” You said softly as you leaned in to kiss him gently.

[haloud]

take a chance and don’t ever look back

ao3

Alex Manes is going to prom with Martin Ness.

The news spreads like a wildfire, the way only a rumor in a high school can. It hits the hallways first, where Alex cocks his hip and touches up his eyeliner in his locker mirror; it spreads through shouts and giggles in the cafeteria and the quad and the locker rooms and even trickles down to the  field where all the other Manes men had held court in their time.

Under the stairwell, squashed between a bank of lockers and a support beam, Michael bounces his knee and chews his thumbnail to the quick.

It was a stupid idea. It was always a—it’s not like they know each other, after all, not really, just kind of-sort of through Max by way of Liz and by way of this town isn’t big enough for everyone forced to spend most of their waking hours in proximity not to know each other. And they had biology together last year.

He made the old dubiously safe safety goggles look cute. How is that even possible?

But it’s not like they know each other. What was he going to do, just walk up and ask him and expect him to say yes? He’s an alien, but he’s not completely out of touch with fuckin’ reality. Michael might be able to afford tickets to the dance, but a tux? Out of the question. Even rentals don’t come cheap. Isobel would be all to happy to help him figure something out, but then she’d want to know why, and—

And that’s another thing. Alex is out, and Michael is—Michael doesn’t know what he is. He just knows that one day their fingers brushed on the pages of a textbook, and every single atom of his being sat up and took notice. Light flooded his soul, and his only thought was…oh. There you are.

He’s been trying to figure out what that moment meant and how to make it happen again ever since. He’d thought prom might be a good way…everyone goes, after all, everyone’s expected to have a date. For all that Isobel scoffs and says “only total wannabes go to junior prom. I mean, come on,” she’s had her dress picked out for two months. So prom could have been a good way to jump in with both feet. A way to spend some time together. He’d just needed some time to work out the logistics, to plan, and to work up his courage because every time he thinks about dancing with Alex Manes he feels like bursting into flames.

Turns out he waited a little too long.

It’s okay, though. It’ll be okay. Michael tips his head back to rest against the cold white cinder brick. Lunch is almost over, but he hasn’t been hungry all morning anyway. And if he crawled out of his hiding place and ran into Alex, he might say something stupid or burst into tears and then he’d have to go and die because Alex would never look at him again.

Michael isn’t Max, with his dorky charm and love of words and his brain-library full of swoon-worthy quotes. All Michael’s got is himself, and a lot of thoughts about the stars and how they move, and a truck old man Sanders says he can have if he can get it running again.

Alex makes music. Michael’s gotta find a way to be worthy of that.

Ness is in the orchestra too. That’s probably how they met.

Michael’s—Michael’s not going to think about that. Michael’s gonna get to pre-calc before the bell rings. Pity party over.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Isobel kidnaps her brothers to the dance. She’s got a date with a cute guy in her wood shop class, and she’s got to get ready, but she still wakes Max up with a tie and a ticket and meets Michael at the bus stop the same way. No is never a good enough answer for Hurricane Isobel, so Michael spends an hour poking at his unruly curls and trying not to panic.

It’ll be okay. He’ll dance with his sister and anyone who’s there alone. It’ll make Isobel happy, it’ll get him out of the house for a night, and hey, it might even be fun. If he sees Alex and Ness together, he’ll. He’ll deal. He won’t let his disappointment get in the way of someone else’s good time. It’ll even be nice to see Alex having a good time. At school he’s always hard-edged and sharp and Michael likes it, he does, he likes the wit and the pride and the strength. But Alex has a really nice mouth, and it’s even nicer when he smiles.

Michael takes a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks and releasing it on a huge sigh. The suit Isobel got him doesn’t really fit right, but it’s not hideous. His hair is the same as always. One curl refuses to lie flat and bounces rebelliously right over his left eye. But it’s not like there’s anyone he’s trying to impress tonight.

The current fosters barely ever comment on Michael’s existence, and they don’t break pattern to notice he’s dressed up as he slips downstairs and out the door. Isobel’s car idles across the street, and Michael jogs over and climbs into the backseat.

“I thought it’d just be Max. What happened to wood shop guy?” He asks, clinging on to the front seats to steady himself as she hits the gas.

“Turns out wood shop guy pre-agreed that they’d both go to Kate Long’s afterparty,” Max replies, wiggling his eyebrows at Michael as if to say the audacity of some people.

Isobel hunches her shoulders, and she does even that elegantly. Clenching her hands on the steering wheel, she snaps, “I told him weeks ago that I didn’t want to go to that bitch’s party. Everyone’s just going to get high, and her shithead brother will 100% be there. No thank you. Boys are stupid. That’s why I have you two.”

Michael laughs at that, and he and his brother chorus, “We love you too, Iz.”

Clearly an attempt was made to transform the gymnasium, but it only achieved mixed results. The walls are hung with fabric and colored lights; the effect is a little dreamy, but it’s not enough to overcome the sound of dress shoes on a linoleum gym floor. Isobel disperses immediately into a cluster of girls on the dance floor; Max hovers a little longer before patting Michael on the shoulder and disappearing as well. Liz Ortecho isn’t here tonight, so he’s probably going to find a quiet corner to compose some poetry in or something.

While Max may be ridiculous, quiet doesn’t sound so bad. They’ve only been here fifteen minutes and already the pulsingly loud music is rattling his nerves. He’s not the biggest fan of loud noise or crowds, and this venue proudly boasts both. The corners of the gym are dark, so he risks using a bit of his ability to boost himself up on top of the folded bleachers where he can survey the rest of the room. He’ll dance a little later, maybe, after he’s acclimated.

He’s just gotten settled when he finally lays eyes on him.

Michael can’t tell if Alex has just arrived or if he’s always been here, standing alone and looking beautiful and maybe looking for a dance partner too. Michael doesn’t know where Ness went, but he’s nowhere to be seen and that means Michael has a chance.

Okay. Okay. He missed one chance to be brave and make this happen. If he embarrasses himself, or, or Alex touches him and he doesn’t feel that frisson of rightness melting into every pore, no matter what happens, it’s not like they know each other. Tomorrow, they can pretend like none of this ever happened—or maybe this can be a start of something? Giddy on a hundred possibilities, Michael forgets how he got up to his perch, and also that he’s a telekinetic alien, and scrambles down the side of the bleachers like it’s a ladder. He misses the bottom step and goes stumbling.

Popping up and righting himself with a blush on his face, Michael shoulders his way through the crowd to where Alex was standing just a minute ago. No one’s there now; Michael spins on his heel to see if he can see Alex walking away. He spots spiky dark hair silhouetted against shifting green light and follows it, not caring how many feet he steps on as he goes. He loses sight of Alex again just past the refreshment table and, frustrated, he elbows his way off the dance floor.

There he is. Heart in his throat, Michael sees where Alex ended up. He’s seated, lounging on the dais at the foot of the DJ booth, eyes closed and head tipped back so Michael can see every inch of his graceful neck, dyed purple, then golden as the lights shift all around them.

Michael can’t do it. He can’t. Alex looks too peaceful, too perfect, over there surrounded by the music where he’s most at home and where Michael will have to shout to be heard as he stumbles over the words that will make Alex notice him.

Michael scrambles for the doors and for fresh air to calm his racing pulse.

Next year. He’ll be braver next year.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Alex lays in bed with his arms behind his head and sighs, loud and dramatic and just a little bit laughing at himself. The dance was fine, but…is he too naïve for having hoped that some handsome guy would swoop in and sweep him off his feet? He didn’t even get one dance with Martin, who snuck off immediately to kiss his secret boyfriend behind the building. They’d only gone together to prove they could, as the only two guys out in their year, but still. Rude.

Funny thing is, Alex would swear he saw Michael Guerin a few times, watching him with this adorably nervous look on his face, his hair tumbling sweetly around his face. Alex wonders what that was all about and…maybe he should have gone up and asked. Maybe he missed out, just a little bit.

Guerin did look really cute, after all. And despite what everyone else seems to think, Alex knows that he can be weirdly shy, considering how much he went blushing and tongue tied when they were lab partners.

Alex rolls over onto his side, a slow grin spreading over his face.

Who cares about junior prom? Hey, maybe he’ll get his chance next year.

[bewaretheundead91]

Michael Langdon (prior to outpost) X Reader 

Ages will change over time If I continue leading to outpost Michael.

Summary: Y/N is a Senior in high school, her parents made her move from their large modern home to an old house, perfect for a restoration project, in an old neighborhood. Murder House dwells just across the street from her. During a fall night, she is dared to go check it out.

A/N: I suck at summaries. This isn’t really edited or meant to be taken too seriously. Just something fun I wrote quickly. I like to imagine different ways Michael’s plot could have gone. The third part of my other Michael fic should be posted today or tomorrow.

I guess let me know if you like it and want me to tag you in the next update? 

Dare

It was the weekend before halloween and y/n’s folks were out of town. To celebrate some alone time without the parentals, y/n hosted a bon fire in her backyard after the big game. The football team had just lost against their rivals and y/n was even happier that she had a place everyone could just relax. Theater kids to cross country runners to football players to debate team members were in attendance. There was even an aspiring DJ, with a set up on the back patio blasting their latest mixes. And this kid was good. Y/N’s parents had money, money to buy old houses and to do whatever they wanted with them.

Y/N grabbed a beer from a cooler next to the DJ set and looked up into the darkening sky,  above, circling were large black birds. They were going around and around forming a dizzying cyclone shape over the house across the street. With a quick twist her beet was opened and she took a long swig. Keeping her eyes up at the sky she made her way down the wooden steps of the patio, past her large in ground pool, and down toward the controlled fire in the center of her large back yard.

“Hey Y/N!” Someone shouted colliding with her shoulder. “Watch out!”

“Oh sorry dude,” She laughed blinking her eyes and moving her gaze from the sky to a girl she recognized as someone who sat behind her in pre calc. The girl looked up and lifted a brow in confusion. “Just a little distracted tonight. Enjoy the party! Pizzas in the house.”

With one last glance up, Y/N made her way to the fancy fire bit her mother put in and sat down in a foldable chair. She took another sip of her beer and just watched as her peers danced in the background, drinking too much cheap beer, and trying to appease their unstable hormones with a quick hook up. The thought of college apps wafted around in her head.

“None of that,” One of her friends shouted, he sat down in a neighboring chair. His girlfriend came trailing behind him giggling. She was drunk. “You made the perfect score on the ACT and you’re going to get into the first college you applied for.”

“Yeah Y/N,” His girlfriend agreed. “You’re like hella smart.”

“I don’t know guys,” Y/N said looking up at the sky again. The birds were still swarming. “Jake aren’t you a little nervous about getting in and Leah aren’t you afraid for your future?”

“Y/N,” Jake said. “We are, we just understand that we need to let loose while we still can because the big bad college is going to suck our souls from us with all the homework we’re about to gain. You’re parents aren’t home you should be living it up more than those drunk stumbling marching band kids in the corner of your kitchen.”

“You’re right!” Y/n took another sip of her beer and looked back at her lit up house. Two kids were attempting to make out. She laughed.

Surrounding the fire were her closest friends, all from different clubs and organizations on campus. They were popular, there was no denying that. Y/N though popular, was only made so due to knowing her closest group of friends all of her life. Also having parents with money and an occasional plane to through big parties didn’t hurt either.

“So tell me about this old house your family decided to move into?” Jake asked. “It’s really old. Like made in the late 1800s old.”

“My mom has this thing for restoration, you know that,” Y/N said fidgeting with her oversized denim jacket. She pulled the sleeves of her long sleeve stripe top out from the cuffs of the denim. “Nothing weird happens here. It looks creepy, but noting happens here. Like at all.”

“Yeah right,” Another friend spoke up, it was her friend Cally, a softball player. “Let me guess you’re barely sleeping. Or you're sleeping with the lights on.”

“Honestly nothing happens here, it’s just really fucking old and everything creaks.” Y/N says annoyed. She downs another sip of her drink. She was starting to feel buzzed. She hated being a light weight.

“That’s the ghosts dude,” Jake laughs. “If you hear creaking at night, it’s the ghosts making themselves known.”

“No I think that’s just old floorboards and door hinges needing to be greased up.” Mac cuts in, Cally’s girlfriend, another softball player.

“Nothing happens here, but the old house across the street that’s a different story.” Y/N perks up an eye brow.

“Murder house right?” Cally shouted with a spark in her eye. “I’ve heard about that house.”

“We’ve all heard about that house,” Jakes girlfriend chimed in.

“I didn’t know about it until I moved across the street from it.” Y/N says shaking her head.

“But aren’t you like into spooky shit?” Mac asked. “Vampires and zombies.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m into true crime and murder,” Y/N challenged. “But that’s how I know my house isn’t haunted and well the one across the street is.”

“What are you saying?” Cally asked.

“Am I the only one noticing the birds swarming above and across the street?” Y/N says.

“It’s dark and everyone has had a bit too much to drink so probably,” Jake said looking up. He looks up and he jumps in his seat. His girlfriend falls to the damp grassy ground. “What the hell?”

“Maybe something died there,” His girlfriend says. “Like a cat or someone hit a deer.”

“Do those look like buzzards to you Leah?” Y/N asked. “Because they look like crows to me.”

“Okay it could just be a weird weather pattern.”

“This is LA, what is weird about the constant sun and smog?” Y/N asked. “There isn’t even barely a breeze.”

“But how does having a lot of birds flying around your house make a claim house being haunted, other than the fact that a lot of people died there?”

“I don’t know maybe the fact that a lot of people died there?” Cally said. “Not just died, but like murdered.”

“Let me continue with what I was saying,” Y/N said annoyed. She quickly chugged the remaining liquid in the glass bottle she held and through it at the fire. “I’ve seen lights on in the house at night.”

“Faulty wiring.” Mac huffed and crossed her arms.

“I’ve seen movement behind the curtain covered windows. When the lights are on, I’ve heard screaming, a boy screaming,” Y/N says pointing toward the direction of the house. “I also remember waking up around 3 in the morning to see people dressed in cloaks standing on the front lawn of that house.”

“Have you thought about just going over there and peaking in the window?” Cally asked. 

“Uh, no.” Y/N said bringing her jacket around herself tighter. 

“I dare you to.” Cally said with a smug look across her face.

“Why don’t you do it?” Y/N said shooting her a look.

“I’m not their neighbor, if someone actually lives in that house you can just say were checking up on them. Mention something about there being break in or noise complaints.”

“Uh, we are the noise complaints,” Y/N pointed to their friend blasting music. “That wouldn’t make sense.”

“Well you can’t back out of a dare.” Jake said.

“We are not even playing a game!” Y/N said.

“We just started,” Mac said with a lifted brow. “You can do this. I’ve got a bat in my trunk that you can take with you just in case.”

“What is she going to do with a damn bat against a ghost?” Leah asked.

“That’s not the point,” Mac said. “You’ve got yourself a keeper here Jake. It’s just in case actual people are in the house.”

“If I do this, you all owe me a coffee fix for the rest of the semester.”

“Deal.” They all said in unison. 

“And Cally, I want your lace up, high top boots.”

“Not happening.”

Y/N stood in her front lawn with a metal bat in hand, her friends were behind her. Her entire front lawn and street were lit up by street lamps. They casted a deep orange glow, but that same glow that lit up her lawn never touched the lawn across the street from her. She looked down at her shoes, new Vans that had yet to be completely broken in, with it’s white details against the black still very white. She quickly bent down and tied the laces tighter, hoping to not trip over the long laces.

“You’re stalling,” Jake shouted. “Just go. We’re right here man.”

“Shut up Jake!,” Leah shouted and Y/N heard Jake groan when an elbow hit his side. “You’re going to wake the neighbors.”

“Oh they are still awake. We are loud as hell,” Mac said. “But you are stalling.” 

Y/N looked back at her friends and gripped the bat until she felt it slide against her sweaty palms. She checked her phone battery life, it was at 75%. She let out a sigh and slid it into her back pocket. Before stepping into the street she looked both ways, the whole street was lit up with street lamps and there were no signs of cars. She walked faster wanting to get the whole dare over with. They said to look in a window, but not go in. The door probably wouldn’t be unlocked.

Once on the unkept property an odd feeling creeped down her shoulders to her feet. She swallowed hard and took in a heavy breath. Quickly she turned around leaving the house at her back and saw her friends had walked closer to the street and shot a thumbs up beneath the lights. Y/N nodded and took out her phone, she turned the flashlight app on and lit up the property from it’s darkness.

“I’ve got this,” She whispered to herself. “I can do this, no one lives here and It’s just me looking into the windows.”

Y/N walked toward the house, cautiously looking at the over grown bushes and weeds that that created irregular shadows against her phone light. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw a figure and flung the light toward the direction. The light exposed moss and vines swaying on their own.

“What the fuck,” She whispered. “There’s not breeze.”

Another movement came from out the corner of her other and she flung the light towards it’s direction. When the light hit the area she swore she saw two little girls, but nothing was there. The light of her phone had exposed a window that she could peek in. She shook her head and practically hopped over toward the window. 

Once the light of her phone his the window she took a peek in. The house, though old and supposedly vacant,  looked clean and lived in. She propped her phone against the window with the light directly against and cupped her hand against the glass.

“This doesn’t make sense,” She said to herself. “No one lives here.”

Y/N grabbed her phone and walked away from the window. She jogs over toward the front door and decided she wanted to try and go in. She could hear her friends shouting for her not to go in. She grasped the door and it opens. Heat from the house hit her like a fever hot flash.

“What the?” She says. “Why is it so hot?”

The feeling she felt turned into churning anxiety at the pit of her stomach, but she took a step into the house anyway. The door behind her shut slowly and it made her jump sending her further into the house and dropping her phone.

“Turn around and leave,” A faint voice whispered. She flung her head to the side where the sound came from. It was more like a gentle draft. “Gooo”

She bent down to collect her phone. After picking it up she checked her screen, it had not been shattered. She was thankful for phone upgrades. After examining for damage she shined the light to illuminate the place. She was in the foyer right now and could see an opening to a larger room. Sweat began to build at the back of her neck and she could feel it dripping down in-between her breasts. She yanked the denim jacket off and flung it against a wall.

“Turn back.” Another whispered.

“Who’s there?” Y/N shouted walking through the opening of the room she flung the light of her phone everywhere. In the room were leather couches and a wooden desk. “How long has this been in here?”

“Leave now…”

“If you’re a damn ghost show yourself.” Y/N’s voice began to shake. She pushed up the sleeves of her shirt feeling too hot. Her hair began to feel soaked by the sweat now. “It has to the be alcohol. I’m drunk. No one is there.”

She walked until she found a stairway. It was grand and beckoned for her to go up stairs. Before she could take a step she she heard a dripping sound against the wooden floor and felt something trickling down her nose. Her head swam from the heat and alcohol, her stomach churned with anxiety, and now her nose bled in reaction to it.

“I must be really anxious.” She spoke to herself trying to calm down. “It’s an old house. Old hoses make noise. We know this.”

Y/N nose only bled when she was really anxious. She watched as another drop of her blood fell to the hardwood floor and splash back up. She internally cursed at herself. Now she had defaced property. 

She went up a few steps toward the upper level and the whispers became louder taunting at her. All shouting, leave, get out, and he will wake!

“He?”  Y/N asked shaking her head, her head now pounded with a pressure and pain and she felt as if she would vomit. She swayed a bit on the step she just took and the metal bat lazily slipped from her sweat drenched palms. “Who.”

She hazily looked up toward the stop of the stair case and caught a glimpse of a teenage boy wearing nothing, but boxers. His hand placed in his hair. He tilted his head to the left and examined her. Y/N jumps and her body lost it’s balance. Trying to regain it she took another step, but then stumbled backwards. She fell backwards and landed at the bottom with a quiet thud. With her eyes still open watched as the stranger ascended down the steps toward her. She tried to get up and to grab her phone, but her head still pounded. More trickling of blood tickled at her face, this time at her left temple. 

“Shhhh.” A voice cooed. And Y/N collapsed backwards toward the hot ground.

She was in and out, she felt like she was floating. Y/N opened her eyes to see her head was resting against the strangers bare arms and her leg dangle against his other. His blonde shaggy locks gently swaying in her face. There was a peculiar expression across his face. She breathed.

“Shhhh.” The stranger said again, the expression turned into a sympathetic smile. 

Y/N passed out in the strangers arms.

[churchofsatannews]

THE DEVIL'S TRILL - EPISODE 25

THE DEVIL’S TRILL – EPISODE 25

Classical guitarist and DJ, Warlock Sonny Bellavance, is back with The Devil’s Trill on Radio Free Satan featuring your favorite classical works. In this episode we hear works by Bach, Mendelssohn, Vivaldi, Mozart, Mussorgsky, and more.

Stream

Download

The Devil’s Trill: Classical Music with Warlock Sonny Bellavance

[mcldeo-blog]

🎉 TUDO PRONTO NO JOHN BULL FLORIPA 🎉 🙋‍♂️ Aloha galera, todos os caminhos da diversão levam ao John Bull na Lagoa da Conceição, HOJE, dia 17/09/22 a partir das 22h, na FESTA ANOS 80 & 90 NO JOHN BULL FLORIPA com a Banda Beat Retrô e o DJ Xande Fontes + o DJ Naftalina 🎧 😊 Vista sua brim coringa, calce seu AllStars e venha se divertir sem moderação!!! Vai ser flashback ❤ @johnbullfloripa @beatretro80 @xandefontesoficial @djnaftalina 🏷 Adquira seu ingresso no site pensanoevento.com.br/shows/34765 ou pelo Whatsapp 48 999160868 🏷 🎵 Quer saber mais? Acesse meu site linktr.ee/djnaftalina 🎶 🙋‍♂️ Faça parte da nossa COMUNIDADE no Zap! Acesse https://bityli.com/nafta e não perca nada🤘 #deephouse #tropicalhouse #NuDisco #djnaftalina #chillout #topdjs #diversão #música #emoção #beats #balada #festa #músicaeletronica #sextou #sabadou #Anos80 #afterparty #sunset #beachclubs #rooftop #feelings #Bar #Pub #galera #amigos #lounge #party #Anos90 #brazilianbass #naftamuzik (em John Bull Floripa) https://www.instagram.com/p/CioH7dEM1c4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[maugustyniuk]

8 Dance-Centric Juneteenth Celebrations to Check Out This Weekend

Dance organizations across the country have been planning ways to celebrate Juneteenth since well before it was declared a federal holiday by Congress this week. June 19 marks the date on which news of the Emancipation Proclamation reached Galveston, TX, more than two years after the Civil War was declared over and enslaved people in the U.S. freed. Here are eight class and performance offerings, some in-person and some online, celebrating Black joy and resilience that you can check out this weekend.

Ailey Celebrates Juneteenth, plus a free class from Ailey Extension

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater's online portal, Ailey All Access, launched a week of Juneteenth-inspired programming on Wednesday, June 16. It features an excerpt from Rennie Harris' tribute to the company's eponymous founder, Lazarus; a 1972 archival film of the legendary Judith Jamison performing the finale of Ailey's Cry, famously dedicated to "all Black women everywhere—especially our mothers;" and the rousing "Rocka My Soul" dance that closes Ailey's seminal Revelations. The program additionally features a "BattleTalk," putting artistic director Robert Battle in conversation with Opal Lee (the "Grandmother of Juneteenth"), Juneteenth Legacy Project co-chair Sam Collins and Legacy Project commissioned artist Reginald Adams. The program is free to watch on YouTube and will be available until June 22 at 7 pm ET.

In addition, Ailey Extension will offer a virtual Juneteenth Celebration: West African Class, diving into West African culture and technique fundamentals, with Maguette Camara on June 19 at 12 pm ET. The class is free but will be capped at 300 participants. Register at alvinailey.org.

(RE)VISION presented by 651 Arts

New York City–based presenting organization 651 Arts launches its inaugural Juneteenth Celebration with (RE)VISION, a weekend of outdoor and online dance film screenings. Ronan Mckenzie and Joy Yamusangie's short film WATA draws on stories of the African and Caribbean water deity Mami Wata. Charles O. Anderson's (Re)current Unrest, making its long-awaited regional premiere, explores the history of Black art and protest. Marjani Forté-Saunders' Memoirs of a...Unicorn: BLUEPRINT shows the importance of the Black family structure to individual identity as it's been tested through history. And the premiere of Cyborg Heaven places the Black urban experience at its center through the lens of house ballroom culture, hip hop and queer radical poet traditions. The film series will be shown following a set from Qool DJ Marv at outdoor screenings in Downtown Brooklyn June 18–19 at 8 pm; tickets are free but advance registration is required. Virtual screenings will take place on June 20. 651arts.org.

Central Avenue Dance Ensemble's A Night at Club Alabam

A Night at Club Alabam takes its name from the dance venue that was known as the "Cotton Club of the West Coast." Presented by Los Angeles' Central Avenue Dance Ensemble, a dance group dedicated to teaching the history of Black vernacular jazz dance through performance reenactments, the online production is a tribute to a bygone era, a vintage nightclub show drawn from the dances of the 1930s and '40s—from tap to vernacular jazz, ballroom to flamenco, mambo to tango. The show premieres June 19 at 1 pm PT; the recording will be available on-demand for two weeks following the livestream. Tickets start at $15. centralavedance.com.

Instagram offerings from Movement of the People Dance Company

Joya Powell's Movement of the People Dance Company offers a full day of offerings and celebrations via Instagram Live. The day kicks off on June 19 at 10 am ET with a grounding exercise, followed by bass jam sessions, self guided massage, a conversation about allyship, a guided improv session, a pause for poetry and reflection, and, to wrap it all up, an invitation to "Dance it Out" with Powell herself. Info and offerings available on Instagram @mopdance.

Coming Together at Lincoln Center

Directed by Torya Beard, Coming Together is a multidisciplinary Juneteenth celebration centering family and celebration. Dancer-choreographer Brian Harlan Brooks, street dance specialist Tomoe Carr and tap luminary Ayodele Casel are joined by DJ Justin Johnston and poet Fanta Ballo for this presentation by Lincoln Center's Concerts for Kids. The event will take place June 19 at 12 pm ET at Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts' transformed outdoor campus. Tickets are free but must be secured via the TodayTix Lottery. lincolncenter.org.

Juneteenth: The Celebration with M.A.D.D. Rhythms​

Chicago's iconic tap crew M.A.D.D. Rhythms headlines a free outdoor performance at the Harold Washington Cultural Center alongside Blu Rhythm Crew, Broadway in Bronzeville and The Happiness Club. Live performances kick off at 1 pm CT, but early arrivals can catch a grocery giveaway at 11 am. maddrhythms.com.

M.A.D.D. Rhythms will also be making an appearance later in the day at the 2021 Chi Village Fest.

REFRAME / REMNANT / RITUAL at NCCAkron

The culmination of Cara Hagan's Community Commissioning Residency at the National Center for Choreography at the University of Akron, this collection of short dance films explores ancestry and embodied relationships to space, as well as the reframing of history from the perspectives of women of color. Dancer-choreographers Ananya Chatterjea, Paloma McGregor and Tamara Williams collaborated with Hagan on the quartet of films; poet Jacinta V. White and dramaturg Sharon Bridgforth also worked with the cohort. The films premiere June 19 at 3 pm ET on NCCAkron's YouTube channel. The event is free, but you can RSVP at nccakron.org.

Step Afrika!'s Juneteenth Virtual Celebration

Step Afrika! offers a virtual triple bill of three newly-filmed works. Trane, excerpted from The Migration: Reflections on Jacob Lawrence and reimagined for film, takes inspiration from the Black women who made the Great Migration in the first half of the 20th century. Little Rock Nine combines stepping with contemporary takes on 1950s social dances to honor the nine Black students who enrolled in a segregated high school in 1957. The Movement showcases a cast of nearly 50 stepping at national monuments in Washington, DC, in tribute to the newfound momentum of Black Lives Matter. The program will debut June 19 at 8 pm ET on Step Afrika!'s YouTube channel and Facebook page. Pre-register for the free event at stepafrika.org.

from Dance Spirit https://ift.tt/2UfLDxs

[djanemagbr]

As coisas que atormentaram 2020 não desapareceram exatamente depois de 31 de dezembro, então caso você precise de um estímulo positivo indo para o primeiro fim de semana de 2021, Honey Dijon tem o remédio Chegando com uma grande dose de estilos de funky house, a DJ nativa de Chicago abalou o relacionamento de streaming global do Beatport e da Absolut em NYE com uma sessão de uma hora repleta de joias prontas para os clubs. Transmitindo de Berlim, Dijon mantém o mix movendo-se da frente para trás com cortes de Riva Starr, The Martinez Brothers, Danny Tenaglia, Love Regenerator e muito mais. A mixagem é costurada junto com remixes da própria Dijon e edições pessoais também. A produtora de “La Femme Fantastique” foi apresentada na lista de eventos #DanceAway2020 do Beatport ao lado de nomes como Carl Cox, Nicole Moudaber, Jamie Jones, TOKiMONSTA e outros. Calce seus sapatos de dança e aumente o som... 🔻🔻🔻 ASSISTA AGORA [ LINK NA BIO ] NOTÍCIAS . . . . . #djanemagnews #honeydijon #absolut #absolutnye2020 #nye #beatport #livestreaming #djset #house #housemusic #funkyhouse #assista #notícias #djanemagbr #djanemagbrazil #djanemagbrasil https://www.instagram.com/p/CJ39SiPlDBo/?igshid=1f2sil374wqy2