#and im splitting the road down the middle…. for a minute the world seems so simple

[stardivingsea]

save me the view between villages by noah kahan. noah kahan save me.

[shadowhaert]

and im splitting the road down the middle, for a minute the world seemed so simple

[simplyyeol]

back then (when we used to)

—pairing; byun baekhyun x reader

—genre; fluff, college! au, childhood friends to nobodies to lovers! au lmao

—tws; swearing

—word count; 16.439 (whew)

—synopsis; when push comes to shove, and baekhyun suddenly appears in your life again taking your heart as he walked along the road beside you, you wonder if you really could have a happily ever after, with him, just like back then, when you used to.

—author’s note; hi guys! it’s me, cough, aj. you probably all forgot who i am right? well anyways! i made this after a long time of not writing since im on break. thank you all so much for the love you’ve given me so far. it means the world to me. i hope you love this one as much as my last work. thank you so much for supporting me !!11!11 (ugly cries)

“I mean, Baekhyun is cute and all, but I don’t know why you like like him that much if you haven’t even had a proper conversation with him,” Sehun explains as he takes a sip of his orange juice. “It seems kind of... farfetched, you know?” You roll your eyes as you take a bite of your sandwich. “Don’t be a drama queen.”

“I mean! Why don’t you like someone like...” he taps his chin in thought, fork stabbing through the lettuce leaves before he looks back to you, signature smirk in place. “Jongdae.”

You choke on the food.

“He’s pretty cute. And he’s really nice too. He’s even on the baseball team with Baekhyun and you guys seem to get along well. It’s a win-win situation.”

You shrug. “He’s cool, but he’s just a friend. And since when do you care about my love life?”

“Nonexistent love life,” he snarkily corrects and you stick your tongue at him.

“And you’re some best friend. Totally supporting me in my silent love affair.”

“I’m being realistic,” he defends, shrugging.

“And a horrible best friend,” you retort, grimly.

“Maybe you’re just going through this phase—” he starts.

“Okay, look,” you interject, dropping your sandwich on the table. “I have a crush on one of the star players of our college’s team. That just makes me one of the many of the girls fantasizing to be her. That’s all it is. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna throw myself at him and forget who I actually am or some stupid shit like that.” You narrow your eyes at him and pick up your sandwich. “Period.” And then you take a bite.

Sehun drops his fork in his bowl, the clatter ringing even through all the chatter in the cafe. “Wow, Y/N.”

“What?” you bark, bread in mouth, so it sounds more like ‘mwa.’ Even if Sehun is monotone in basically everything that comes out of his stupid mouth, you can hear the smirk.

He shakes his head. “Nevermind. But... since we’re already on this road. You know Park Chanyeol.”

You nod and swallow. “Yeah. Why?”

“Well, he gave me two tickets to his game since Mina and I were gonna go, but you know...” he trailed off and you look at him. He just broke up again with Mina. His now ex. They have an on and off relationship. You don’t really get it.

“I dunno,” you say, eyes flitting from the table to his face. You didn’t want him to go alone, sure, but more often than not, when he takes you to these kind of things, he usually gets sidetracked and well, forgets about you.

“Oh, come on, I won’t leave you this time, I swear,” he says, fist slamming the table.

“Sehun,” you breathe, talking to him as if he was a child. “You said that last time for that basketball guy’s party. And do you remember what happened then?”

His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Apparently your best friend has horrible memory as well.

“You went home with Mina, asshole,” you spit. “And yes, you are my bestfriend and deserve the best romantic life, but you can’t just leave me. Jeez, you’re heartless, Sehun.”

“I won’t leave you this time,” he pleads once more, puppy eyes now in place, hands placed together under his chin. “Please, noona?”

You stick your tongue out at him and continue with your sandwich.

“Oh, come on, I want to go with my bestest friend in the world, and not anyone else. And we’ll have so much fun and I won’t even leave your side, or anything, and as a bonus! I will personally get you a jersey as an added bonus with a certain Byun printed on the back.”

Your eyes flicked to his for a split second at the sound of a certain man’s name.

“I can even arrange a chance at the after party for the two of us, so you can have some even more fun. There’s gonna be free drinks too!” he tries.

You raise an eyebrow at this offer.

“Free food, too!” he chimes.

“We’ll see,” is your final answer.

His straight posture is slumped at your answer, pout adorning his face as he dejectedly looked at his salad that was a part of his so-called, healthy diet, that he put together himself. His eyes flicked to yours as you took another bite of your BLT.

You waved it at him. “Want some?”

He looks back to his salad before dropping his fork and stretching his hand out. You hand the sandwich to him and he takes a few bites before giving it back to you.

The rest of lunch is spent in light banter, talk about classes and upcoming finals.

The two of you have been close since the start of college after there was a mix up in the dorm distribution and you ended up in the only co-ed dorm in college. With a playboy of course. You would think you’d somehow fall in love with him, but the boy being two years your dongsaeng, the spark was never there. He became a little brother figure who you could bully whenever he came over to you to gush about his new girlfriend at how pretty she is. It’s cute enough to pinch his cheeks like you were a distant relative who claimed to used to change Sehun’s diapers. He hated it, which is exactly why you loved it.

He doesn’t bring up the game until you see Byun Baekhyun walk through the cafe doors. You being the shy person that you are, immediately duck your head and finish the rest of your sandwich in one bite, and stand up announcing your departure to Sehun.

“What? I’m not finished yet, wait another minute. We’ll go together.”

“Uh, I actually forgot I’ve got to meet a friend before class starts,” you explain, twisting and untwisting your fingers, eyes locked on Baekhyun’s figure that was currently walking towards you and Sehun’s table, which was conveniently in front of the register. 

Sehun looks at you, nose scrunched then looking somewhere behind you, and then it dawned on him, your predicament. “Oh,” he breathes.

And Sehun being the asshole he is calls Byun Baekhyun over. You never wanted more for the ground to open up and swallow you whole than at this moment.

“Hey, Sehun, what’s up?” Baekhyun says, his honey voice rolling over you in waves. You couldn’t leave due to the iron grip Sehun had on your wrist, caging you and erasing all attempts of escape.

“Hey, hyung. I just needed an opinion. Do you know, Y/N?” Sehun nods to you and you freeze as Baekhyun finally sees you. You hold your breath, waiting for the answer on the tips of your toes even though you were the one who didn’t want it.

His eyes lock with yours and you see the warmth even standing nowhere close to him. You see the small mole on top of his lip, the bridge of his nose, the cherry pink of his lips and all you can think is how he hasn’t changed one bit. 

His eyes flit down to your wrist in Sehun’s hand and you quickly pull it away. Sehun doesn’t hold you back. And then he’s looking away as fast as he saw you, and you miss the warmth that he brought with just a look but you’re glad for the lack of his fierce gaze on you alone.

He hums. “Yeah, I know Y/N. We went to the same middle school but you probably already know that,” he states matter of factly. You purse your lips. Sehun didn’t know that.

Sehun’s jaw goes slack. “Wait, what?” He turns to you, eyes narrowed. “You never told me that!”

“Uhhh—” you dumbly respond as Baekhyun looks between the two of you.

“Right, I just wanted to know,” Sehun clears his throat, grasping Baekhyun’s attention once again, “if we could come to the party after the game?”

“Oh, you’re coming to the game?” He poses the question towards the both of you, but he only looks at you.

“Well, I’m going, but Y/N doesn’t know yet—”

“You should come,” Baekhyun states simply, looking into the depths of your soul. Your heart beats just the tiniest bit faster.

“I’ll see,” you mutter under your breath.

“Well, I’ll see you guys later then?” Baekhyun waves, the corner of his lips raised, and eyes sparkling in a way that only fits Baekhyun. 

Sehun’s arm falls on your shoulder as he rises to his full height, effectively breaking you out of the haze that Baekhyun put on you unknowingly. You scowl at him as you grab your backpack.

“How come you never told me this precious piece of information that came from Baekhyun himself. I’m so disappointed in you,” he remarks as you exit the cafe. You dare not look back.

You shrug, a small shiver running up your spine from the breeze. “It never came up.”

“Bullshit. This stuff is already supposed to be established in our,” he motions exasperatedly in the space between the two of you, “relationship.”

You snort. “I’m not dating you.”

“We’re best friends!”

“That we are,” you deadpan.

“Were you guys only classmates?” he inquires, shoving his hands in his pockets and blowing out a breath.

“If you’re asking if we dated, no. But we were friends, I guess.” 

An understatement but you don’t say.

Starting middle school in a whole new city was overwhelming to say the least. Having just moved to Seoul was already climbing in on itself over you. The whole car ride you refused to meet your parent’s eye on the trip to your new house. They pointed out famous landmarks and beautiful scenery of the ocean on the way, and yet, you refused, the stubborn 11-year old side of you coming out, as you blinked the tears away, never letting them fall.

And then came Baekhyun, a whirlwind of a boy, all smiling, eyes crescents, and hair a raven-colored ruffled. He flew into your life and you were grateful to him. He suddenly became a staple in your life but really you should’ve seen it coming sooner.

As fast as he entered, he left, and you didn’t like to think about whether it was your fault or his. One day, he stopped trying. Avoiding you, or maybe he just became too busy for you. He grew out of the pre-teen Baekhyun, a child in and of itself and became the popular teen Baekhyun who suddenly became the star of your junior high. You drifted apart, as Baekhyun entered the spotlight and you steered towards the sidelines, suddenly becoming a wallflower in Baekhyun’s life. And then you weren’t in it anymore. But you watched him grow up and everytime you passed him in the hallways in highschool and eventually college, a part of your heart clenched, happy that he was happy and sad because you couldn’t share that happiness with him.

Sehun saw the lingering glances, the almost spoken hello’s to the star player and deemed that you had a crush. He wasn’t wrong so you never corrected him.

“Earth to Y/N?” Sehun called, hand waving in front of your vision. You blinked, slowly turning over to him. “Blanked out there, for a little. You good?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Just thinking.”

“About a Byun Baekhyun?”

“Shut up,” you mumble and he snickers.

A few beats of silence pass as you walk side to side, shoulders brushing against each other.

“You’re not telling me something,” he says.

“No,” you respond.

“Yes,” he retorts.

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ll get it out of you, sometime. I already have a lead.”

“What? Are you Sherlock?” you tease, lips quirked.

He slides in front of you and you stop watching as he dumbly salutes, fingers all crooked. “Holmes, reporting for duty,” he announces.

You laugh and then he smiles. 

Most of the spots are filled when you enter the auditorium, a mess of hair, clothes and Y/N.

You spit out some of the hair caught in your mouth, which probably happened somewhere between where you left the pet store, your part-time job, in a hurry after seeing the time and from now, where you stood, just barely making it into class as the professor entered through the adjacent door . You got a little carried away with the new puppers that had just arrived and that was all your fault. Not that you regretted it, though.

The professor set up his laptop, plugging in wires and setting papers aside, that you really hoped weren’t of the test you took last week. You scrambled to your regular seat, right next to the TA, Kim Minseok’s desk, and next to Kim Jongdae. 

You dipped your head in greeting at Jongdae as you slipped past him to the seat and muttered your ‘hello’ to Minseok who waved you back.

“Please don’t tell me those are our tests from last week,” you say to absolutely no one. 

Jongdae, from beside you, hears this and turns to you. “Those are totally not our tests from last week.”

“Those are totally your tests from last week,” Minseok pipes from the other side of you. You swivel towards him, lips pursed, frown in place.

“Is it bad?” you ask, grimly.

“Can’t say,” he grins. 

“A hint?” you egg and Jongdae echoes your question.

Minseok shakes his head no and points towards the front just as the professor starts speaking. You melt into your seat, hoping that time would tick just the tiniest bit faster, if only to finish this hell you’re in.

45 minutes pass, not that you’re counting every second of it but you just happen to see after sneaking a glance at the clock hung on the opposite wall, when the professor finally announces the very dreadful thing that has you in a slump.

“And now for your tests!”

A series of groans echo your sentiments and you wait as he calls out the names of the other students, fists clenched, nails digging into the skin of your palm. He goes through a few people before stopping on the nervous human sitting right next to you.

“Kim Jongdae!” he calls and you give a pitiful look at Jongdae as he stands up to retrieve it. His face looks almost like a kicked puppy. The professor hands him the paper, says something, that you can’t hear (distance), or read (bad eyesight), but there’s a smile on his face. You sit at the edge of your seat waiting as Jongdae gets closer to you, his eyes lighting up as he reads the grade and when he comes to stand next to you, showing it to you, a cheshire-grin stretching across his lips.

Your jaw drops. “An A? That’s amazing!” He has his hand out towards yours and you high-five it, smiling for him. You sit back down waiting your turn, back straight, hairs raised.

“Y/N!” 

You get up, walking as fast as your legs could take you, grasping the paper with eager hands. The professor smiles and says that it was better than your last and then your walking back, not daring to peak at the letter.

“Did you see it?” Jongdae calls when you get back to your seat. 

You shake your head. “Can’t. You do it.”

You hand the paper to Jongdae and he chuckles leaning over. He faces the paper towards you, back slanting so he’s looking at it as well.

“A B!” you cry.

“An 89!” he exclaims.

“If you round up,” you start excitedly.

“An A!” he finishes.

“Yes!” you yell, fist pumping in the air and once again before exchanging another set of high-fives.

The two of you sit back at your seats ruffling through your tests exchanging answers for the questions you got wrong. The teacher rambles on about how well you all did this time, much better than the last. You paid it no attention, though, wincing as you saw another question you got wrong. You even remember studying about that one!

“Okay, students!” the teacher finally announces and you look up, setting the paper down on the table. “You’ll be doing a project—”

A series of groans cut him off.

“Now, now don’t be like that. It gets even better; you’ll be doing it in partners! The person next to you should do—oh! Would you look at the time? I better be off! Class dismissed!”

The screeching of chairs being pushed in, the mull of the chatter of students, and the scratching of pencils on paper fill the silence that the teacher brought and you stared at Jongdae, dumbfounded. And Jongdae stared at you.

“Is this real?” you breathed, voice ragged.

“I really hope not,” he answers back. “Maybe it's all just a dream.”

“More so a nightmare,” you remark.

Minseok snickers at the two of you. “Don’t be dramatic and get out of here, you two.”

You frown at Minseok as he shoots you out of the auditorium with the rest of the lingering students. You handle your bag, throwing it over your shoulder, carelessly, before turning to Jongdae who walked to your side with another classmate.

You wait for a gap in their conversation before pulling Jongdae away. “Do you have class right now?”

He shakes his head. “No, you?”

You mirror him, before cocking your thumb behind you, head tilted. “Library?”

“Better now than never,” he grins.

Jongdae steps off to the side when someone asks him something about plans on Friday night. You tell him you’ll save him a seat and wave before leaving, begrudgingly thinking about the fact that you wished to have plans on Friday night, ugh.

The library is vacant, spare the few students like you who thought to actually use it other than the librarian that no one ever sees. You tensely smile at a girl who you really can’t remember the name of but told her that one time in that one class after she made eye contact with you. A second later, though, no later, you looked away, wincing because if that wasn’t awkward. 

The tables in the library were settled in clusters if you make your way through the library, high shelves of the paperback on your left, and non-fiction on the right. It’s almost like a maze as you enter the space, and really it's no surprise, when you spot ten people. Max.

You take a seat at the nearest empty table, pulling out your textbook and your laptop. It only takes a minute for you to get sidetracked after you tap in your password the already open tab of Twitter pulling you in.

It wasn’t your fault really! The posts kept rolling in and sucking you deeper and when finally your throat felt parched and you took a sip of water, checking the time, still not seeing Jongdae, did you see half an hour had already passed.

“The fuck is the dude, doing?” you mutter under your breath, opening a seperate tab for your email. The chair across from you screeches and you think, finally, before your eyes land on the person currently sat across from you.

His hair was ruffled and the tip of his nose and cheeks were blushing red, as if he ran. And it wasn’t Jongdae.

“Oh,” he mumbles, more to himself. “Y/N.” A deep breath then, “hey.”

“Oh, um, Baekhyun. Hi,” you dumbly respond, stomach flipping at the sight of him. Your tongue had the sudden urge to fail you at the moment, barely making the cut.

“Sorry, to, um, bother your studying,” he starts, eyes flickering to your open screen which displayed the email log-in page. Thank god he did not see your Twitter account. Maybe you would have actually died. “But, uh, I’ll just sit here for a few minutes and then leave.”

The way he’s fidgeting in his seat makes it seem like he’s trying to avoid someone. “Oh, okay. That’s, um, fine?”

His eyes narrow at you as you purse your lips. Awkward. You are very awkward and you know that. You shuffle in your seat when he looks away and chuckles silently. “Thanks,” he says.

A few beats pass before you deem it awkward enough to drag your laptop closer to you, and look through the few emails that were unread in your inbox. Okay, lie. You weren’t actually reading. It was more so that your eyes skimmed over the same from email at fifteen times, your brain not registering the contact.

Baekhyun apparently decided to break the ice, starting with a deep breath. “So, what class are you working for?”

“Um, microbiology. I’ve got this partner essay and decided to get started on it,” you explain, biting your lip from a nervousness that you’re not sure the cause of.

“Partner?” he asks.

“Yeah... partner,” you repeat, thinking that he needed clarification.

“Oh, are you waiting for them?”

You nod. “He was literally right behind me too, jeez, what is he doing?” you ramble, picking up your phone and searching for Jongdae’s contacts.

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything else as you type a text to a certain essay partner.

jongdae!!!!

You set the phone back down on the table and sneak a peek at Baekhyun who looks, even at a first glance, stressed. Eye circles ring underneath his eyes, the hint of purple tinting his fair skin. His eyes look puffy, like he just took a nap, even though it's the middle of the day, and your heart clenches at the thought that he doesn’t get enough sleep. You notice the way his fingers drum silently along the table, his teeth worrying his chapped lips, like he’s always doing that. Maybe a habit...?

“Are you... okay?” The question comes tumbling out of your mouth in a hushed whisper, like some dirty secret that can’t be revealed. Your eyes rake over him with worry as he looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

He’s wary, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he forms an answer. “What do you mean?” he finally responds. Answering a question with a question. 

“You look tired,” you point, motioning to the undersides of his eyes. 

He winces, hands fisted as he rubs his eyes, laughing half-heartedly. “It’s nothing. Just got a big game to prep for—speaking of,” and then his eyes turn to you, determined, fiery, fist placed on the table and any sign of tiredness in his eyes vanished. “Are you going to come to the game?”

“Uh—”

“You’re going to the game?” 

Your head whips towards the side as Jongdae strolls in to the area, nonchalant. You take your pen and whip it at him with all the aim you could muster at such a short notice.

“I’m sorry!” he yells as he catches the pen and holds it to his heart before gently setting it down on the table a distance away from your hand.

“Thirty minutes,” you huff, as Jongdae takes a seat beside you. His attention turns toward Baekhyun who looks between the two of you. You can’t tell what the furrow of his brows or the scrunch of his nose conveys.

Jongdae ignores your complaint and addresses Baekhyun. You turn away pointedly, hands crossed over your chest, lip slightly jutted. 

“What are you doing in the library, Baekhyun?” Jongdae questions.

“Um, just, you know, talking to Y/N—”

“Is that Eunha?” Jongdae interjects, leaning over the table, jaw dropped.

“Who?” you ask, curious.

“Yeah, who?” Baekhyun repeats, feigning innocence. You see the way, he blinks at Jongdae owlishly, and his straight posture.

“Your ex-girlfriend, Eunha! Is that why—”

Baekhyun’s over at Jongdae’s side in an instant, hand clamping over the blabbermouth’s mouth, looking around the library maniacally to see if anyone overheard. You choke, not sure what to feel about the new information, but when she leaves out of view, you figure it's her since she is the only one there that wasn’t there a moment ago. You look towards the two idiots at your side.

And if that wasn’t any worse, Eunha suddenly reappeared again right in front of you three. And she looked Baekhyun up and down, and then it was Jongdae. And lastly you.

With her sleek black hair sectioned off into braids, her makeup flawless, and her clothes without a single crinkle in them, you envied her from head to toe.

“Baekhyun what are you doing? Really? Running away?” She gives Baekhyun an incredulous look as he retracts his hand from Jongdae’s mouth, sheepish look pasted on his face. 

“Um, actually—” he starts.

“Seriously, I just wanted to talk. I won’t bite,” she promises taking a step closer. You see Baekhyun’s eyes flit to anywhere but Eunha, and then you see him take a step closer to Jongdae, his hand suddenly coming down onto Jongdae’s shoulder. Hard.

“I’m dating Jongdae!” 

Eunha’s jaw drops open, you choke on air, Jongdae shrieks and falls out of his chair, and Baekhyun colors a scarlet in the next few moments as crickets chirp through the library.

“What?” Eunha breathes, looking as if she just got slapped in the face. And in this case, you felt that it would have been a better situation. “You’re dating—” she stopped mid-sentence, closing her eyes, straightening her back, and taking a long, deep breath. “Jongdae? Is he lying?”

You watch as Baekhyun pinches Jongdae’s back as he opens his mouth, and proceeds to say the words that you are just dying to hear with some popcorn in hand. “Uh... no.”

Eunha’s eyes are almost about to fall out her head as she looks between the two of them. Baekhyun laughs a small laugh, pressing his index finger to his lips, and shushing Eunha. She barks a laugh, hikes her bag up her shoulder, and stomps out of the clearing.

Jongdae’s chair is thrown to the side courtesy his legs as he stands, towering over Baekhyun. “What the fuck—” 

Baekhyun claps his hands together in front of his face, eyes clenched together. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” he squeaks.

“I should’ve just let you suffer—”

“—and I am so, so grateful you didn’t—”

“—in pain. Why the hell do I—”

“Coffee, for a month?” Baekhyun pleads.

Jongdae narrows his eyes at Baekhyun. “Two.”

“One and a half?”

“One and three weeks.”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, plopping into the chair next to you before turning to meet your eyes. “I am so dead.”

You smile. “I didn’t know you were gay.”

“Y/N!” he whines. “You know what? I am leaving, I have had way too much drama for today, and I feel my wrinkles popping out, god dammit.”

He walks away from the table as you erupt into snickers and Jongdae hollers an ‘8:45 AM sharp!’ after him.

“Don’t be late! I have class first thing and need my supply!”

Baekhyun doesn’t turn around, opting to flip off Jongdae, back still turned. Jongdae swears at him, and you laugh even harder.

What you don’t see is the small smile gracing Baekhyun’s lips as he exits the library doors, a little skip in his step.

Having to take an advanced sociology class for your major made absolutely no sense other than the fact that the people, whoever they were, that assigned the classes, were absolute idiots. You would know since you’re always surrounded by them.

The class ran for two terms but you only needed one, joining in at the beginning of the second this year. Everyone already had managed to find a place to sit, some people to work with, and a nice view of the screen in front of the room. You just wedged into some seats with some of the more friendlier looking girls and somehow managed to blend in to the wall, only needing a passing grade for this class.

You didn’t know many people in this class, but you at least recognized their faces. And that guy sitting at your desk with the suspicious looking hood was not one of them. You stood a few feet away from him, wondering if you should demand your seat back or just sit next to him. Or in front. 

But that’s your seat.

Well. Your inability to communicate with people caught up to you and you took a seat right next to him.

It wasn’t until the end of class that you figured out who he was. You could hear a faint purr from the hooded boy next to you, his pencil strewn next to his head that was lain on the table carelessly. A string of drool marked the paper and you chuckled. But you couldn’t judge. That would be you today if it weren’t for the fact he was giving apparently important information from the girl on your right.

You pondered on the thought if you should just leave him, but if class had finished while you were sleeping you would want someone to wake you up. What if he had a class after this?

You drew closer to him and tapped his shoulder. “Hey. Wake up. Class is over.”

The boy groaned, shifted in his seat the tiniest bit, and continued sleeping. You tapped him a bit harder this time. “Hey. Hey. Wake up.” 

You checked the time on your phone, before placing it back on the table. Taking your time, you placed your notebook back in your bag and zipped it up before tossing a look back to the boy. Still sleeping. The pencil and pen in your bag as well. Another look. Not even a little.

Boy, was this kid tired.

You tried again, and again, with even more force and smiled when the guy stirred, blinking his eyes, movements hazy. He smacked his lips a few times before finally moving his head up and locking eyes with you.

“Baekhyun?”

“Y/N?”

“You take this class?” you both said in unison.

A look passed between the two of you, as you blinked and he started giggling with you following shortly after.

“I take this class, but I’m pretty sure you don’t,” you finally say, smile placed on your lips.

“I owed my friend one and filled in for the day to take some notes.”

You snickered before motioning to the side of your face, your fingers ghosting your skin. “You have drool here.”

“What?” he squawks, hands wiping the opposite side of his face. 

You shake your head. “Other side.”

He pulls the sleeve of his hoodie up and finding the drool, quickly wiping it off before embarrassingly pulling his hoodie on his head tighter.

“What’s with the get up?” you question, as Baekhyun grabs his notebook and you grab your backpack, both walking towards the door. 

A group of students brush passed you and you notice how Baekhyun makes sure to duck his head down as he whispers to you. “You didn’t hear...?”

“Hear what? you whisper back.

He pouts at you and you shrug. “The rumors?” he tries again.

You filter through any gossip Sehun might’ve told you about in the past few days and come up blank. “Nothing,” you state.

He groans, hand coming up to slide down his face. “Come on, man. The rumors?” he harshly whispers, face turned towards you whilst walking, hands outstretched at his sides, and eyes blown out. 

You suck in a harsh breath as he comes closer to your face, and that weird feeling in your chest blooms again. Almost like an eruption of lava, but more lowkey. A good volcanic eruption.

“Me being gay?”

He pulls back when he sees your lips pursed, smile begging to be released. “Oh, from when—”

“Oh my god,” he groans, walking faster in front of you.

“Okay, okay, sorry, I won’t laugh!” you exclaim, speeding up your pace and walking next to him. He took a look at the twinkle in your eyes and the smile playing on your lips and huffs before looking away. Drama queen.

“Seriously!” you repeat again. “Okay, wait, wait, slow down a little.”

He begrudgingly complies, hands now folded over his chest as you swing your backpack to your front and bring out your notebook. You zip it up and he sneaks a glance before voicing his curiosity. “What’s that for?”

You shoot him a smile. “Your favor?”

His eyes widen. “Oh shit! I fell asleep!”

“That you did, but I take pity and give you this.”

You hand him the notebook and he takes it, hand almost brushing yours but you can’t tell from how fast its gone even though the aftermath leaves your heart beating a mile a minute. You don’t even notice.

“You are an angel,” he breathes and sends you the most breathtaking smile that you think he could ever send you.

“Your welcome,” you state, voice soft.

“Thank you,” he says back. 

You continue walking, where? You don’t know. But you move closer to him as he opens the notebook and you show him the pages that you wrote down today. You stop at a small bench on the side of the hallway where Baekhyun sets it down and takes pictures of the pages.

He slides his glasses up when they fall off his nose, before tapping the screen to make sure that its readable. You watch to the side as he ruffles through the pages make sure he got everything. His bangs falling over his eyes, and he shakes his head, the hair stubbornly staying put.

“Baekhyun!” someone calls from the side. You look over and recognize him to be from the baseball team. You forgot his name, though. Something starting with Jong but you weren’t sure. He jogs over to Baekhyun, talking about a late baseball practice and where the hell he’s been.

Baekhyun looked sheepish as Jong-something scolds him, calling him hyung and you can’t help but smile at the interaction. 

“Oh right, that reminds me!” Baekhyun turns towards you suddenly and you feel warm under his and Jong-something’s (Jongin? Is that his name?) gaze. “Are you still not sure about the game?”

You inhale, looking at the way, Baekhyun pulls out his lower lip just the slightest and how it looks adorable (you’re cringing on the inside at your thoughts) on him. “Uh... yeah. Still don’t know,” you mutter.

“Well,” Baekhyun says, looking straight at you and placing his hand on your shoulder, “I hope you come.” 

And then he sends you a smile and you feel your heart strings tugging at each other as he turns around, jogging to the rest of the team. Jongdae shoots you a small smile when he sees you and you wave back but then he’s gone.

It’s not until a good twenty minutes later do you remember that Baekhyun didn’t give you your notebook. You rushed back to the bench where you saw it last. It wasn’t there also.

Well, shit. You’re screwed for that test next week.

hey, this is Y/N. i don’t have your number so i’m texting you though sehun’s. 

You read over the text and groan. Why would he care if you have his number or not—of course you don’t. Delete.

uhhh, anyways, do you still have that notebook you took pictures of? I can't remember if I took it back or not haha

‘uhhh, anyways’ is too awkward, dammit. Delete that as well.

hey this is Y/N. do you still have my notebook you took pictures of? I can't remember if I took it back or not haha

Okay, okay. Not bad, straight to the point. A little laugh in the end to ease the awkwardness. Hit send, Y/N, before you freak out even more. You press the blue button and thrust the phone back into Sehun’s hand before diving into your pasta. Nothing like food to hit your biggest worries.

“You’re such a coward, worrying about texting him,” Sehun snarks, tapping on the screen.

You glare at him, mouth stuffed, and he glances a look at you, smirking at your appearance. “Ass,” you mutter.

“That’s me.” 

The door to the cafe jingles open and it's almost like a fairy tale when your eyes dart to the customer in the almost empty restaurant, with you sitting directly in sight of the door, and lock eyes with Baekhyun.

“Oh, Y/N! Sehun!” he exclaims, waving at the two of you with his signature smile, fingers straight as a stick, gaps wide between them in that weird way he waves at people (he still makes it cute).

You smile a small smile, and Sehun gives a weird ass cool nod that Baekhyun takes a greeting does a weird nod back. He pulls a chair from the empty table next to you, dropping the bag and sitting in the middle, your left, Sehun’s right. His side profile was astonishing.

You looked back to your food, taking another bite, as they engaged in baseball talk, wallowing about whether or not you should bring up the elephant in your room.

Thankfully, Baekhyun, ever the one with many gifts from God, looks towards you abruptly, slamming his hand on the table. You flinch, eyes startled to his, wide in shock, almost mirroring his.

He chuckles and you clamp your lips and relax your posture, eyes drifting away. Well, that’s embarrassing.

“Sorry,” he snickers. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“She’s a coward. She’s always scared,” Sehun interjects.

“No one asked you,” you retort, throwing the closest object to you (a napkin) hoping it would hit him straight in the eye (it didn’t; it floated to a stop in the middle of the table).

“Anyways, your notebook. It’s in my locker, I totally forgot to give it back, my bad.” His hand comes up to unconsciously rub at the back of his neck and you inwardly coo at the small pout on his—no! ”If you want, we can go now to the lockers since I have practice. Do you have a class?”

Your mind went blank for some strange reason and the only thing that came out was an “uh...”

Sehun, the sometimes-angel he is, saves you and you are so very grateful. “She doesn’t.”

Baekhyun looks between you and Sehun, an unrecognizable expression on his face, before his lips turn into a smile. “Great!”

He makes small talk while you finish your food, helping Sehun occasionally on the essay he was pumping out. He leaned over Sehun’s shoulder, his glasses slipping down his nose, and his eyebrows scrunched as they glazed over the screen. He’d gotten annoyed from his bangs that he clipped them up exposing his forehead, and—oh god, what is wrong with you.

“Okay!” you announce,  a little too high pitched and chair screeching back at a screech that resonated through the empty shop. You freeze, coughing awkwardly when Baekhyun looks up at you through his circle lenses and Sehun snickers in the back. You chuckle, smile tense, before grabbing your backpack in light speed, fixing your jacket.

You cock your finger back towards the door, and tilt your head. “Sehun are you coming? Let’s go.” Your heart pounds—probably because you made a fool of yourself. Sehun shrugs before packing his stuff, Baekhyun following.

Sehun and Baekhyun, with their longer legs and faster pace, strode in front of you on the too thin sidewalk. You lingered behind sometimes joining in on the conversation but you felt as if you’d interrupt them with all the sporty jock language they were using.

You just decided to stare at Baekhyun. And admire. And daydream about what it would be like to marry and have tiny babies together. But at the moment. Admire.

Even the back of his head was adorable, added to the fact he was wearing the team’s hat and hoodie combined. Really, whoever designed them was genius. Baekhyun looks absolutely swallowed, only the tips of his fingers peeking out from the sweater paws.

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” Sehun knocks on your head, and your eyes immediately snap towards his the moment Baekhyun’s eyes meet yours. “Is the back of his head that fascinating?”

“Wh-what? No, what the—” you end up smacking Sehun feeling the nape of your neck warming up and letting your hair curtain over your face on the side that Baekhyun faced towards you.

“Woah, there, no need to get violent, I was just joking,” he intonates the last word, a smirk voiced and you glare up at him hoping your message traveled light years fast. You take back what you said about him being a sometimes-angel. He’s the devil reincarnate.

Baekhyun laughed his small cute laugh like ’hahaha’ and said something about zoning out. You nodded dumbly and continued to trail along with him.

“As I was saying...” Sehun says, hand waving in the air nonchalantly, “Y/N’s just using me as an excuse for leaving her at the game because she’s probably just embarrassed that she doesn’t want to miss the new episode of Extraordinary You—ow! What was that for?”

You smile up at him, lips pursed, words venomous, “what?”

He looks away, pouting muttering how you’re a big fat meanie. Baby.

“Oh Extraordinary You is so good. Are you caught up with all the episodes? I haven’t had time to watch the last two,” Baekhyun comments and your neck snaps as you look up at him.

“Oh, uh...” with the thought that he didn’t find it embarrassing that you spend your free time watching romantic dramas that could never actually happen in real life, you spoke up. “I’m caught up.” You still mentally threw Sehun into the pits of hell where he belonged.

Sehun snorts as Baekhyun hums.

A curious smile peaks over the edges of Baekhyun’s lips as he looks at Sehun. “Why... is it weird or something?”

“No, just, she thinks that she’s uncool to watch dramas twenty-four seven—mmmph—what are you—!”

Your hand stays at Sehun’s side as you smile at Baekhyun. “Just ignore him. He spouts bullshit twenty-four seven,” you give a pointed look towards Sehun at the end. 

Baekhyun laughs. “Okay, then.” 

“He spouts bullshit twenty-four seven,” Sehun imitates, voice pitches higher.

“I don’t talk like that!”

The walk to the locker rooms aren’t too far, just outside the school campus. It’s only a 10-minute walk from the food court area and you’re there in no time. 

Luhan from the baseball team, which you know of from how much he frequents your apartment to hang out with Sehun, stole the younger boy, stating that they’d be back in a minute after stepping out of the locker rooms. You sat on the bench in the middle of the locker rooms while Baekhyun shuffled through his lockers that was packed to the brim.

“I’m not usually this messy,” Baekhyun mumbles as he takes out another bundle of what looks like an old sport jacket. “I’ve just been really busy these days,” he adds.

“It’s fine, take your time,” you commented, twiddling your fingers.

A few boys stepped in to the locker room, and you looked up briefly recognizing their faces but not their names. 

“Oh, Baekhyun?” one of them called. “You brought a girl into the locker rooms? You never did that with anyone, even Eunha.” The two at his sides snickered and you watched as Baekhyun’s ears turned red at the implications.

“It’s not like that,” Baekhyun barked as he continued ruffling through his lockers. “They’re idiots, don’t listen to them.”

You chuckle softly. “Okay.”

“Found it!” he grins, spinning it around and holding it out towards you.

“Oh, cool, thanks,” you state, taking the book from him.

“Yeah, but I should be telling you that,” he chuckles. “Why do you use a notebook anyway? Laptops are a thing, you know?”

“Yeah, but I like writing the stuff. It helps me remember everything,” you say, stuffing the notebook into your bag.

Baekhyun hums. “Good point, but the hand cramps are so not worth it.”

You shrug it off. “Whatever, Byun.”

“Hey, Baekhyun! Practice is starting. Your girlfriend can stay if she wants, I already asked coach,” one of the boys called.

Your face warms up at the title, and you’re meek ‘I’m not his girlfriend’ is muted by the raucous of the other boys coming in. Baekhyun sends you a shy smile and shakes his head. “Again, idiots, but you can stay if you want.”

“No, it’s alright,” you breathe, “I have class anyways, so it’s time I go. Can you remind Sehun to buy dinner, and say no chicken, please?”

“Yeah, sure. Isn’t his phone broken or something like that?”

“He’s an idiot also.”

“Looks like everyone on this team is an idiot.”

You hum, thinking over the words, one thought shining brightly in the midst of all the others.

The next thing you say is totally uncalled for and if you were in a less delirious state and not around Byun Baekhyun, it would’ve never escaped your mouth. “You’re not, though. That’s why I l love—”

Baekhyun suddenly frowns and your heart drops. You idiot! Why would you say something like that? What if he—shit. You totally messed up. The whole getting to know him, shit, shit, shit. You totally messed up. He doesn’t have time to respond as one of the boys steals him, shoveling him out of the room, throwing you a beaming smile in compensation. You can’t seem to reciprocate.

The locker room is awfully quiet, now.

It has been exactly one day since you spilled your mouth in front of Baekhyun and it has been exactly one day since you have regretted saying that. You saw him this morning, at the coffee shop down the street. He was just minding his own business, looking through his phone while taking a few sips of his drink here and there when you accidentally bumped into him. Nothing precarious happened, like you fell into his arms or his coffee spilled all over your shirt and he let you wear his spare.

No. You blushed as red as a tomato and stuttered a sorry, before scurrying off like a mouse at the stony gaze pointed directly at you.

Why did you even open your mouth and say something stupid like that? You weren’t an idiot. You knew what was implied with those words, and yet you had to go and say it. You probably ruined the friendship you had slowly progressed with Baekhyun, too. What a stupid person you are.

You walked in to the microbiology class with a huff, no regular coffee in hand as you were far too flummoxed after the run-in with Baekhyun to go back into the cafe. Jongdae had noticed something was off and shared a look with Minseok. The TA shrugged. 

You made a small burrow surrounding yourself with first, your books, second, your water bottle, and third, your bag, making a small barrier that you wished would shield you from all the remorse you felt upon yourself. Once the professor had walked in and started the presentation, you pride yourself from behind the wall. 

Your motions were robotic as you copied important things from the presentation, highlighted key concepts in your textbook, and answered questions prompted by the professor. But it was as if your mind and body were separate and your soul was nowhere to be found.

At the end of class, the professor had called you and Jongdae up, mentioning something about the project. 

You forlornly walked up beside Jongdae, the scuffling of your feet earning another worried stare from the boy.

“Y/N, Jongdae, I just wanted to note that since there’s a new student in the class, and an odd number of people, I would like for him to work with you,” the professor explains.

You nod numbly. Jongdae questions as to who. 

“Oh, he actually attend today’s class, I told him to meet me as well… oh, there he is!”

You felt someone sidle next to you and Jongdae shifted to look towards him. “Oh, Baekhyun!”

Your head snapped towards the side, and true to his words, Baekhyun stood to your side, not bothering you a glance. He smiled at Jongdae then at the professor, thanking him.

Jongdae glanced to you, your mouth agape. “Y/N, do you want to come with us?”

“H-huh?” you stutter as you look towards Jongdae. “Sorry, zoned out.”

“Yeah… uh, do you want to come with us for lunch? We’re having pizza,” Jongdae reiterates.

Your eyes flicker towards Baekhyun and sure enough, the cold stare from this morning and the last time you saw him were still there. 

“No, I’m fine. Thank you, though,” you say, lips pulled in a tight smile. 

“Oh, okay, then. See ya!” Jongdae grins, before turning towards Baekhyun who still stared at you. He nudged Baekhyun’s side. “Let’s go, then.”

His eyes are clouded as he looks at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and it makes your skin tingle from all the attention. He finally pulls them away from you and you let out the breath you were unknowingly holding. “Yeah, let’s go.”

What an idiot you are.

The smell of meat filled the room packed to the brim with college students. Baekhyun sat stuck in the middle of Chanyeol and Jongdae and was somehow appointed to the meat as he got the lowest runs during practice. The room was far too hot, even for Baekhyun and he grabbed the air conditioner remote, setting it at the coolest. The boys burst into raucous laughter at a story that Junmyeon was recalling but Baekhyun couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. He merely blinked as he flipped another piece of samgyeopsal.

His thoughts were running all over the place, like a hurricane. But it was all trained on you. 

Like that one time when he’d been coming from his class, he’d somehow spotted you in the midst of the crowd. You yawned, pulling down the hood covering your face and he had to hold back a snort at the way your flyaways stuck up filled with static energy. He started walking towards you, wanting to pet down the hairs but he stopped midway. Why would he want to do that? And he stood there like a fool, in the middle of the courtyard staring as you walked away from him.

He’d seen you so many other times and each time you drew him in to you and he didn’t know what was happening. Why his heart sped up at the sight of you so much, as if it were about to burst out of his chest. Why he had the urge to hug the living daylights out of you at the sight of you, as if you were his lover and he was yours. Why he blushed whenever you complimented him like a lovesick teenage boy. 

The not an idiot thing was the last straw. And what followed scared him to the deepest parts of his soul. You couldn’t just go around telling people those kinds of things with that much sincerity and stupid sparkle like you held the sun, stars, and meteorites in your eyes. It made him realize something. This whatever he felt, was different. 

It felt like how he used to feel back when he would consider you his best friend in the skip of a beat if anyone asked. It felt like that, but even more. And it scared him.

It was different from anything he felt when he was with any one of his past girlfriends. It was similar but far too different to even be compared. It was much more than that.

Was it friendship? Was it attraction? Could it maybe be… love?

Chanyeol knocked his elbow into Baekhyun’s ribs, lightly. “Baek, the meat’s burning.”

“Shit,” Baekhyun muttered to himself, still in a daze. This could be called love, couldn’t it? He always went on and on about how, all the girls he’s dated, he’s never loved. His heart was never full enough whenever he was around them to even be considered love. But around you—

“Baek,” Chanyeol called more loudly, this time jolting Baekhyun.

Baekhyun snapped his head towards Chanyeol, voice clearer. “Shit.”

“Yes, shit, the meat is burning,” Chanyeol pointed out and it finally registered in Baekhyun’s mind as to where he was. 

Baekhyun scrambled to save the meat, hurriedly flipping them, and blowing out a sigh as they were still edible.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol breathed, mouth full with meat. He placed a piece in a perilla leaf, adding a tiny dollop of ssamjang and placing it in Baekhyun’s hand.

Baekhyun takes it, mulling over the question. “I don’t know.” He put the wrap in his mouth, slowly chewing. “You know Y/N, right?”

Chanyeol nods, sipping his water and swallowing. 

“What do you think about her?”

Chanyeol hums. “She’s nice. Why? Do you like her?”

Baekhyun chokes on the water he’s drinking. “What? Me? Like her?”

Chanyeol shrugs. “You asked me what I thought.”

“But I don’t like her,” he wrongfully states. The way those words fall out of his lips, every word placed in it, feels wrong.

“Didn’t she used to be your friend or something like that?” Chanyeol reasons, eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Okay, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol interjects, seeing the inner conflict and what exactly Baekhyun was trying to get at here. “I’m going to ask you three questions.”

Baekhyun stares at him, confused. “About what?”

“One.” Chanyeol holds up his index finger, ignoring his question. “Do you like spending time with Y/N?”

Baekhyun blinks but slowly nods. Over the past few weeks where your interactions with him have slowly raised, he realized that whatever time spent with you, whether it was just a few moments, or hours on end, he never despised it. He even sometimes looked forward to it. No matter how cold he acted towards you. 

“Two.” Chanyeol pops another finger up. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

“W-what? How is that even… relevant—?”

“Answer the question, Byun.”

Baekhyun bites his lip. “Okay, yeah, she’s pretty, I guess.” This question doesn’t take long for him to answer. When you were little, Baekhyun always figured you were pretty with your blinding smile and sparkly eyes, and as you grow up, your features maturing and becoming more distinct, he’d say you’d become beautiful. In his eyes at least.

Chanyeol claps his hand, a smile spilling over his features. “Close your eyes for a minute.”

Baekhyun complies, albeit hesitantly, just in case this was just some prank and Chanyeol is just sneaking some raw garlic in his wrap. But Chanyeol’s words pull him in.

“You’re standing there, okay?”

Baekhyun imagines this well enough. He stood in the middle of a road that he’s never seen before, alone. He doesn’t know what Chanyeol’s point is but he doesn’t open his eyes just yet, intrigued as to what comes next.

“Y/N is there next to you,” his deep voice continues.

Baekhyun places you right in front of him. You’re standing there how he saw you the last time you crossed paths. Bundled up in an oversized hoodie, and jeans, your go to outfit everytime he sees you. Hair pulled into a low ponytail because as you said, it’s annoying when its down, and it hurts when it’s too high up. And only a touch of lip balm because makeup takes too much time and according to you, doesn’t fit you. He thinks you’d look pretty in anything—wait, no! This is exactly what he’s not supposed to be thinking. However, the butterflies in his stomach start to stir.

“And then she’s leaning closer  and closer…” Chanyeol hums again. 

The you behind his eyes, mirrors the actions and he watches, wide eyed as you’re almost nose to nose with him. Your breath fans over his cheeks and you flutter your eyes shut, standing there, waiting. He knows what comes next and his heart aches, his skin tingles, waiting for him to continue. He can’t even pinpoint whatever he’s feeling. He needs to repress it, he knows that he should or else it will just end up absolutely horrible. Baekhyun can’t seem to make a decision. His lips press into a thin line before his body is moving before he can react.

And he’s kissing you.

Baekhyun’s eyes fly open. He’s met with Chanyeol’s trademark grin set in place and a slight rise to his eyebrows. “So? What did you see?”

“We…” Baekhyun voice was barely above a whisper and he felt his skin tingle. That was it wasn’t it? “We kissed.” The butterflies raged and he let them.

Jongdae knows the tension between you and Baekhyun. He can quite literally feel it when he’s in close proximity between the two of you. It’s so thick it suffocates him. But he knows he can fix it. He’s good friends with the both of you and he knows where the two of you went wrong. Baekhyun is scared and running away from his feelings and you are beating yourself over having feelings for him. It’s a never ending cycle and Jongdae just wants it to stop. Which is why he’s strategically planned this last work study to the tiniest detail naming it: Let’s Get Them Together Because Everyone is Fucking Sick of it. The name needs work but the sentiment is still there.

The warmth of the cafe drafts over him as he opens the door, with you following closely behind him. He meets Baekhyun’s eyes for a split second before they immediately go towards you as you hide behind Jongdae like he’s some barrier. He doesn’t appreciate this and would prefer more eye contact between the two of you as to initiate something, so he moves away. 

Jongdae reaches the table and hovers, as you take a seat on the edge seeing that Baekhyun took the other. You face each other, but don’t dare to look at one another. The both of you were thoughtful enough to leave a seat for him straight in the middle, so there was that at least.

Operation Let’s Get Them Together because Everyone is Fucking Sick of it is now a go.

“Y/N! Why don’t you show Baekhyun that thing you showed me last night?” Jongdae chimes, smiling. Baekhyun looks questionably between the two of you before focusing his attention on you where you pulled out your laptop and materials. “Would the two of you like anything to drink?” He further questions, inwardly patting himself on the back when the two of you scoot closer together to ‘see’ your screen.

“I’m fine,” you chimed, voice soft. “Thank you.”

“Baekhyun?” Jongdae questions before looking at the cup Baekhyun taps at.

“I’m good too.” 

“Alrighty, then!” Jongdae exclaims, clapping his hands together, before narrowing his eyes at you. “Make sure you tell Byunnie here, everything alright? And in detail too!” 

Jongdae proceeds to skip off, laughing heartily at the weird stares you probably shared behind his back. Jongdae wasn’t planning on doing anything. Just fueling the spark that already came between the two of you.

Baekhyun’s eyes have opened into a new dimension and he knows about what’s driving him to act like this towards you. Well of course, he knows, he’s always known but always chose to ignore it. But now, he wants to change. He wants to change but now, he doesn’t know how. 

It’s been one week since his talk with Chanyeol and the three of you had met up almost everyday, seeing as you didn’t have much time to cram it all into the last day. He felt his walls breaking around you. A small smile whenever you scrunched your nose at a term you didn’t understand, turning to Jongdae all confused with some tech problem only to find out that it was something stupid—you would turn in to a blushing mess after. Whenever he met eyes with you, you would immediately look away and it made his heart clench. 

Sometimes you made yourself so small, he forgot you were even there, letting his walls break down thinking he was only in front of Jongdae. He would then remember that you were present, making eye contact and he would then see the pretty blush you would sport. He’d shut up straight away.

Jongdae had planned to meet at a cafe this time, going out for ice cream later in celebration for finishing. Baekhyun had come far too early, going straight after his last class just in case he came too late—a bad habit of his. And once the two of you arrived together, he’d straightened, ready to get this done and over with. He still didn’t know what was going to happen with the two of you, but has accepted that whatever would happen, would happen. But after that weird encounter with Jongdae, he felt like something was up.

“That was… weird right?” Baekhyun spoke, looking at you.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “totally weird.” You didn’t look him in the eyes as you said this.

There were a few moments of silence that drifted between the two of you, the ambiance of the cafe seeming to make up for the lack of conversation, before you spoke up.

“Did you manage to find the stuff about the stool analysis? That’s what Jongdae was talking about earlier, I guess. He told me about it and I found some stuff just in case you didn’t,” you started shifting your computer towards him.

He leaned over, hoping with the depths of his soul that you couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating in front of you. You pointed out the parts that you found interesting and the differences between the analysis you’d come up with the days before. Baekhyun hummed, nodding along to everything you were saying, before one point caught his eye. He pointed this out. “This one seems nice to use.”

You grinned, before flipping open your notebook. “Right? I thought so too. I found some additional information about that specimen and compiled them so we could add it to our presentation.” You slid the notebook over to Baekhyun as well, and he had to scoot his chair closer to see. 

“If we use this in our presentation...” he started, lifting his head up and locking eyes with yours. His voice faltered. 

You were a breath away from him, nose almost brushing into his. He stayed there, frozen, wondering as to what to do in this situation, mind running a mile a minute and yet doing nothing at all. You were the first to move, coughing haphazardly, and leaning away from him, before pulling open a few more tabs saved on your bookmarks.

It would be okay, right? It was just you that his heart was beating for. Baekhyun was just a little too late in realizing that.

Jongdae entered at just the right time and Baekhyun spent the rest of the time, avoiding your eye now and trying his very best to control the beating of his heart.

Night had fallen as they exited out of the cafe. Baekhyun and you both carried a drink, yours being hot chocolate and Baekhyun’s another coffee to keep him awake for the rest of the night. With increased practice for baseball came less time for him to focus on his studies. And he really needed that stable GPA.

“Well, I go this way,” Jongdae states, cocking his thumb to the right. You and Baekhyun turn to look at him, confusedly.

“Isn’t your apartment like right next to mine, though?” you ask, confusedly.

“Well, yes, but I promised to meet someone earlier. Sorry I can’t walk you home, Y/N, and no ice cream,” he apologizes before his eyes brighten up again. “Oh, Baekhyun! Can’t you just walk her home? You’re headed in somewhat the same direction, right?”

Baekhyun scratches the back of his head. “I guess?”

“Great!” Jongdae exclaims before skipping off once again.

“Jongdae is acting really weird today…” you comment and Baekhyun can’t help but nod his head in agreement.

It’s a twenty minute walk from where you are now to your apartment building. Half of the time is spent silent with Baekhyun. 

Until you meet Sehun at the crosswalk.

“Oh, Y/N-noona, Baekhyun-hyung!” Sehun calls, and you wave at the familiar face, Baekhyun nodding in greeting. “Didn’t know you were such a gentleman, hyung,” Sehun teases, poking at Baekhyun’s sides. The older man swats at his arm in retaliation sticking his tongue out at the former. You laugh to the side at the two children it feels like you’re walking home.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out, eyes lighting up at the name.

“Who is it?” Sehun asks, as he slides next to you.

“My mom,” you reply.

The words are falling out of Baekhyun’s lips before he could stop them. “Tell her I said hi.”

You smile. “Okay.”

You pick up the phone, voice soft as you slowly walk in front of the two boys. “Hi, Mom.”

“Yes, yes, I’m good. Oh, by the way, Baekhyun says hello. Yes, the one from next door.”

You look back at Baekhyun. “My mom says hello back and that you should come over some time,” you state. “You don’t have to if you want to, though,” you add as an afterthought.

“I’ll come over if I have some time later,” he tries.

“Sure,” you answer, relaying his words to your mom. Baekhyun can’t help but look endearingly at you from the back.

Sehun brings Baekhyun’s attention on to him, then. “Hyung.”

He looks over, eyes blinking, as he places his hands in his pockets, craving the warmth as a particularly fierce wind drafts through. “What’s up?”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Baekhyun blushes at the sudden confrontation. He thinks about it for a second before replying, not once thinking that it not be true. “Yeah, I do. Why do you ask?”

“She… talked to me earlier about you. Like a few days ago,” Sehun started, voice lowering. The three of you passed the crosswalk and continued on the side of the road. Sehun and Baekhyun lagged the tiniest bit as you walked along unaware of the conversation being shared between the two boys.

“Yeah?”

“She said she said something to you and you just turned cold and it was all her fault. I didn’t push her, but I asked her why she didn’t just play it off and say that she didn’t mean it,” Sehun started, getting straight to the point. Baekhyun waited on the balls of his heels for the answer. “You know what she said?”

Baekhyun shook his head.

“It’s better this way. What if I grow too attached and he just leaves again. I don’t think I can do that.” Sehun looked at Baekhyun gauging him for an answer.

So... that’s how she felt?

Baekhyun didn’t like to think about the period when you stopped being friends. He thought it would be better for you, to stay away from his crowd. You would always used to point to them, saying that you didn’t like them because of how snotty there were. And when Baekhyun joined the baseball team, with those same people, he thought you would hate him for that or at least grow to hate him so he just... distanced himself before he could get hurt. Because he was childish. And immature. He didn’t account to how you would feel, thinking that you would get over it. Maybe Baekhyun was as much a stable in your life as you were in his.

“I’m telling you this, because I know you’re a good person and I really don’t want you to hurt her again. When you left her before, I think it affected her more than she lets on. She doesn’t show it much, but I think that’s why she’s so wary with people in general. I really don’t want to see her like that, ever. So please—”

“It’s okay, Sehunnie,” Baekhyun interjects. “I know. I’m planning on making things right between us and I don’t plan on letting her go.”

“Are you sure?” Sehun asks warily.

Baekhyun nodded in confirmation as you finally turn back, hanging up on your phone call and noticing the distance between you and the two of you boys.

You laugh. “You guys are so slow!”

Yes, Baekhyun is sure. He knows what he wants to do. What he needs to do.

You shivered under the touch of the cool autumn sky, the breeze ruffling up your hair. As an attempt to block yourself from the harsh winds, you pulled up your hoodie, the fabric covering your ears giving you just the warmth you crave. 

A familiar mud green slide that twirled around like a pretzel came into view as you turned the corner. Your heart felt full at the images of sunny days and fall evenings spent in the very same space years ago, with a certain child.

It was surreal when you turned towards the swings and saw the same kid that you remember from your childhood. Tousled mop hair that went past the eyebrows, button nose, rosy cheeks, and the poutiest of pouts adorned his lips as he glared at the rock a few meters away. His jean clad legs, swung back and forth and the momentum carried him down then up then down and up again, a repeating cycle. As a child, you could never stand the swings for long—they made you get butterflies in your stomach, and not the good kind.

He spotted you, eyes widening and legs skidding across the wood chips to halt his flight, before you could even wonder whether you wanted to be there or not. It looked as if you’d intruded on a rather private moment. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You stepped out of the shadows, clammy hands gripping the strap of your bag. “I’d ask the same to you.”

The swing only slightly rocked back and forth now and you walked up to him, taking the adjacent seat. You didn’t look at him, absentmindedly kicking your legs back and forth but then decided against it when a wave of nausea passed over you. Some things never change. 

Baekhyun exhaled a heavy breath that somehow had layers to it. The creaking of the metal joints, rusted over years of children taking turns and calling dibs, showing, as he rocked back and forth. “You remember this place?”

You look towards the side, his voice drawing your attention. Clear, resolute, brights, but at this moment it sounded much different than the Baekhyun you remember. His head was tilted back, eyes closed and face relaxed, serene, and you couldn’t help but feel that way too. This place did something like that to you. All the jitters, and nervous butterflies were drowned out by the aura of this place, and it made you feel calm, comfortable. Home. “Of course I do,” you whispered. You were afraid that if you spoke too loud, something would break, and this, whatever this was would go with it. Your voice merely echoed through the space between the two of you, the buzz of cicadas quickly rebutting it.

“I come here sometimes,” he looks towards you as he says this, and you hold his eyes. Your eyes wander across his face. He looks so tired. “To think.”

You smile a small smile. “Funny.” He cocks an eyebrow at your comment. You shake your head at his pointed look. “I came here just to do that.”

“Do you come here often?” 

Your breath comes out in visible puffs in front of you. “No.” Another, but larger. “Yes.” 

He chuckles, his signature laugh making your smile grow even bigger. “And we’ve never seen each other before today? Crazy.”

“Yeah,” you grin. “Crazy.”

Your eyes bore into him, as Baekhyun, and as you see the way his shoulders hunch back, the furrow of his eyebrows, how his skin almost sags, the shadows bringing out the darkness under his eyes. You can’t help but ask, again. “Are you okay?”

His head tilts to your side and he opens one of his eyes, peering at you almost upside down, sideways. “Of course I am,” he chirps, “just a little tired ‘s all.”

“Then why don’t you go sleep?” 

He tilts his head back up, eyes closing. “Can’t.” Silence looms over the two of you, but he breaks it, once again. “I actually need to apologize to you.”

You turn towards him, confusion etched over your face. “Apologize?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I’m really sorry for being super... distant to you these past weeks. I don’t really know what got over me.”

“No, no, I mean,” you stutter, grasping his words and reason for an apology. “I should be apologizing. I guess, I stepped over a line, and your reaction was normal for what I did—”

“For what you did?” he interjects, puzzled. “I don’t get it, are we even talking about the same thing?”

“The locker rooms?” you try, wincing at the harsh memory and its outcome.

“Yeah… but you didn’t say anything like that—”

“Yes, but I said something that were implied in my words and—”

“Okay,” he grins and you warily meet his eyes. “How about we just forget that ever happened and start over again?” He cocks his head cutely and you inwardly coo, being reminded of the child you once knew (and now know again).

“Okay,” you agree, smiling.

The small smile he sported suddenly turned larger and much more wary. A mischievous grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he stood up to his full height, the swing twirling erratically at the loss of his weight. “I have an idea.” He bends down to pick up the backpack perched on the corner pole of frame when he looks at you, almost shy, and you were transported once again to the time when you were just a child and didn’t know anything better in the world. “You don’t need to be anywhere soon, do you?”

You shake your head no as you mirror him, dusting off your behind for remaining dirt, and straightening out your jacket.

“Great,” he beamed. “Let’s go!”

The arcade was still the same as you remember it. When you came to, wondering where in the hell Byun Baekhyun was taking you and whether you should’ve followed or him or just ditched to a sauna for the rest of the night was swiped clear out of your memory when you arrived at the front. A few of the letters balanced on a hilt of the building, were fused out, the A, C, and E, black in the darkness of the night. The sign now spelled, ‘RAD’ but you remembered the time when all of the letters dazzled bright colors all on their own.

Baekhyun shot you one of his award winning smiles when you looked at him, incredulously, mouth agape. “This was still here?” you marveled, breathlessly. 

He nodded, excitingly. “It hasn’t changed one bit.”

And he wasn’t wrong. 

The entrance was dimly lit, only one person over the counter and the teenage boy looked eerily dead, the light above him flickering on and off. When the bell chimed as you entered, he jolted, eyes glazing over the two of you.

“For two?” He queried, monotonously.

“Yes, please,” Baekhyun replied, bouncing on the tips of his toes.

The boy registered and handed you the tickets as you and Baekhyun paid for your own. Baekhyun tried paying for you saying that he dragged you into it, but you stared him down, and he eventually caved. Why would he even pay for you? It’s not like the two of you were on a—no! Y/N, don’t go there! Bad territory to be roaming around especially this close to a guy in a seemingly empty space. You shake your head free of thoughts as you focused back on the game at hand.

Baekhyun had got the lead when you glanced at his screen, but you quickly overpassed him, a trick from so long ago, now muscle memory, taking over you.

He groaned and you cheered as the tickets from under piled out and a crown displayed on your screen and a frowny face on his. You had an urge to soothe the scrunch between his brows when you saw him gloating off the number of tickets you accumulated over the time you’d been here. 

As you headed to the counter filled with different toys and stuffed animals, the clock behind it showed that it was almost 10. You’d been here for two hours? It barely felt like 1.

Baekhyun’s eyes were trained on a pikachu plushie to the corner. He didn’t have enough tickets to buy them.

“I’ll get the Pikachu, over there,” you pointed, and couldn’t help but coo at the small almost inaudible whine that blew past Baekhyun’s lips. “Are you going to get anything?”

His eyes flitted between the number of tickets displayed on the machine and back to the wall of toys. 

“How about that tiger over there? It kinda looks like you,” you nudged, smiling, when his eyes brightened up again at the sight. 

“Okay,” he states. “I’ll take that one.”

The walk back was heavy, silent. The impending doom and the utter discomfort at not having a bed for the night loomed over you and you cursed yourself for ever giving in to your roommate's enticing offers. Dammit, you and your weak heart.

Baekhyun took a deep breath as the ticking of the crosswalk, halted you from the street. “I go this way.”

He points towards his left and you know your apartment is in the opposite direction but you can’t help but want to lie and walk with him just a little bit more. Everything about today had just been so... nice. There was no other way to describe. It made your cheeks blush red, your breath unsteady, your legs stagger and you heart beat so hard you felt as if it would burst out of your chest.

The words were falling past your lips and you wished to take them back as soon as they escaped when you saw the worry fall onto his face. “I was just gonna crash at a cafe for the night.”

“Too much homework?” he questioned.

“Well, yes, and I’ve been kicked out of my room for the night,” you laughed the last part off, hoping that it didn’t sound as bad as it really should. And then you realized that it did sound as bad as it did and you were quick to rebuke just in case a tiny part of Baekhyun worried for you. “I mean! It’s not a big deal or anything, just I owe Sehun a big favor and apparently his plus one’s house is under plumbing or something and I do have that essay do the day after, and I guess, it just all works out...?”

“You don’t have anywhere else?”

You nervously chuckled. “I already tried...? And it’s fine. Not the first time—”

“You can stay with me,” Baekhyun interjected. You coughed a sudden cough. “If you want to, I mean.”

“Uhhhh, well—”

“You’ll have to owe me a favor, of course, it’s not every day I let someone borrow the mattress under my bed, but it’s fine if its you, as long as it is a big favor.”

You stood speechless for the minutest of moments. “I—is that okay?”

“Yeah, it's cool. A big favor, though, okay,” he pointed. 

You held your hands up in surrender. “A big favor,” you repeated. 

He dropped his finger and a lazy smile that brightened up his face all the more, washed over him. “Let’s go then, I’m bunked.”

You startled awake, eyes shooting open. Darkness meets you and it takes a few moments to register the room you’re in with the only light source being from the tiny gap in the curtain. Curtains. Blue curtains. You don’t have blue curtains. 

You’re currently on the floor. Laying on a mattress. There are two bunk beds on either side of you. One of them occupied with Byun Baekhyun who is currently dangling from the bed and drooling. Your brain finally registers awake and reruns everything that happened the night before, starting from your unexpected meeting all the way to Baekhyun’s gracious offer. Considering where you are now, last night wasn’t a dream.

You throw off the covers, suddenly feeling hot. Did he always sleep with no air conditioner? You wondered whether or not you should stay until he woke up, or if you’d be overstaying your welcome. Padding around for your phone, it was half past nine. You didn’t have any classes until the afternoon. You decided to kill time going through your social media, having nothing else to do. But your eyes soon got bored and trailed towards Baekhyun’s almost right above you.

You could make out his distinct features in the dim lights, the ones you are used to and everyone saw, but there was something so peaceful with the way his eyelashes laid against his cheeks and his lips and cheeks a rosy pink. And the drool. You stifled a laugh when the drool started to roll down his chin, threatening to drop off.

It wasn’t long for your heart to start pounding in your eardrums at the serenity of this environment and how quiet everything is. It starts getting louder, almost deafening until you peel your eyes away from Baekhyun.

You suddenly make eye contact with Chanyeol, who gazes at you blankly, face held in his palm.

You intake a sharp breath at the confrontation as he narrows his eyes at you. “Did Baekhyun bring you here?” he whispers.

You nod slowly before realizing the implication of the statement. “Wait, no! Not like that,” your harsh whisper makes Baekhyun stir and your wide-eyed as Chanyeol hold his finger to his lips. Like a deer caught in headlights you slowly nod in understanding. “I just didn’t have a place to stay, and Baekhyun offered. That’s all.”

Chanyeol’s eyes are clouded. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. For such an expressive person that everyone claims him to be he seems far too intimidating in front of you right now. “Do you like him?”

“What? No! Of course not.” you refute harshly. Chanyeol’s eyes narrow down at you. You wither under his gaze. “Okay, maybe a little. But don’t tell him, alright?”

“And why is that?” he presses.

“Just, please, I—” 

I’m scared. You choke back the words.

“I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”

Chanyeol nods. “Okay. Just be careful with him, okay? Some people use him because he’s Byun Baekhyun and he just lets it happen because he’s too nice and won’t say anything, so just when you’re with him, take care of him alright?”

You look at him questionably. “Why are you telling me this?”

He laughs, waving the question off. “It’s nothing.”

“Huh... you’re awake?” Baekhyun slurs from above you.

“Oh, Baekhyun!” Chanyeol grins. “I was just about to make breakfast, Y/N, will you join me?” A flip had switched in Chanyeol’s demeanor and your eyes don’t leave his, even as he shuffles out of his bed, his earlier words bouncing off the walls in your head. 

Baekhyun groans and flips his covers on top of his head, muffling a five minutes. Chanyeol cocked his towards you. “Coming?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, trailing behind Chanyeol.

xxx - xxx - xxxx [6:15 PM]: hey, Y/N! this is baekhyun! I got ur number from sehunnie if ur wondering 

xxx - xxx - xxxx [6:15 PM]: i gave sehun a lil something for you :) make sure you wear it to the game tomorrow!

xxx - xxx - xxxx [6:15 PM]: also u forgot your pikachu at mine

‘xxx - xxx - xxxx has been added as a new contact: baekhyun’

y/n [6:16 PM]: ...should i be worried?

y/n [6:16 PM]: and you can keep it. u probably wanted it more than me. think of it as... payment? for letting me stay the night

baekhyun [6:17 PM]: it’ll look cute on u i swear!!! just please :,( for me??

baekhyun [6:17 PM]: also the pikachu will do

y/n [6:18 PM]: i hope ur not lying 

baekhyun [6:18 PM]: i'm not!!!

y/n [6:19 PM]: sehun just came so i hope u stick to ur word

baekhyun [6:19 PM]: you’ll love it, trust me ;)

baekhyun [6:19 PM]: oh, i’ve gotta go now, duty calls

y/n [6:19 PM]: oh okay

y/n [6:20 PM]: get lots of rest and gl for tomorrow!!!

baekhyun [6:21 PM]: dw ill win it :)

baekhyun [6:21 PM]: just for you 

‘message failed to send. try again?’

Baekhyun gave you one of his old jerseys, and a yellow t-shirt. You got the reference, his favorite color being yellow, and ‘byun’ printed on the back of the jersey.

“All the Baekhyun fans have one of these, but hyung said this one was special since he got it personally for you or some bullshit.” You didn’t care much for Sehun’s snarkiness, taking the clothing with gentle hands and scurrying off into your bedroom to squeal because Baekhyun got this just for you!!!

You’d tucked it into a pair of loose-fitted jeans the afternoon after, spending hours doing your hair and makeup before topping it off with a team hat. You’d gone for a minimalistic look, trying too much to make sure it didn’t look like you actually spent hours on it. Not that you were dressing up for a certain someone—who are you kidding, you are totally dressing to impress. Sehun took one look at you and snorted. You swatted his arm ignoring the look he gave you. “I haven’t seen this much effort since prom in senior year.”

You huffed a whatever, stalking out of your apartment and placing yourself in the backseat of his car, as you went to pick up Mina. Apparently the two of them were together again. You figured you knew when that happened.

When you get to the field, Sehun announced that he’s hungry and went off to the hot dog stand. You and Mina, meanwhile, climb up to your seats taking in the view. The bleachers are filled to the brim with people from your school and also people from not. You underestimated the sheer popularity of the baseball team in your state.

And you also noticed many other girls dressed up similarly to you. 

“So there’s something between you and Baekhyun?” Mina spoke up, from beside you.

Your head whipped towards her and your mouth opened and closed like a fish, unable to make a response. 

She glanced towards your shirt and then to the fine print of ‘byun’ across your back and raised an eyebrow at your lack of an answer.

“W-were just friends,” you finally stuttered out.

Mina’s eyebrows raise up another level. “Sure…” she says, sounding totally not convinced. “Because friends blush at the mention of another friend’s name.”

Your hands fly to your cheeks patting them down. “I’m not blushing,” you frown.

She laughs. “Whatever you say, but I personally think you’d be good together.”

You look at her, curiously, egging her to go on.

“I mean, Baekhyun doesn’t really date that often. Eunha—was a stupid decision on his part, I don’t know what got into him. But he’s a good guy and I think he really likes you, Y/N.”

“He likes h-h-uh?” you bumble, head spinning.

Mina snickers. “Yeah, I think he does. And I’m the best when figuring out these types of things,” she grins, adding a cheeky wink towards you. 

Your left to mull about her words, as Sehun enters, handing you your hot dog and soda.

“Oh, it’s starting!” Sehun comments and the pitcher throws the first ball. The crowd goes wild.

The game ends with your team winning 6-4 and you find yourself cheering for them along with the others in the crowd.

Sehun drags you towards the locker rooms, telling you that it’ll be fine, and Baekhyun will totally not be weirded out by you visiting him after the game and telling him a good job. 

“Sehun!” One of the team called out as you entered the locker room. A horde of sweaty boys swatted at your friend and took the compliments he threw out. You craned your neck searching to find a familiar pink-haired boy before someone called your name from behind.

You turned to find Baekhyun, with a towel slung over his neck, bangs sticking to his forehead, and cheeks flushed. Not to mention the smile that spread over his face like he just saw an angel. He looked effortlessly hot. So unfair.

He jogged towards you and before you could even say a hello, he threw his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You froze for a split second before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, a small smile playing on your lips. You forgot that he was really touchy realizing he must’ve never outgrown the habit, not that it was a particularily bad one. His drooling was far worse. With how tight he was hugging you, you figured it must’ve been out of relief. You knew it. He really was worried for the game.

“You did really well,” you breathed, lips hovering over his ear. He smelled like sweat, undoubtedly and you were sure the warmth would stick to your skin soon enough, but didn’t dare shy away from his hold. He would always hold you like this back then as well and you felt comfort from that fact. Some things really do never change. 

He groaned, voice muffled by your skin. His lips moving against your neck sent shivers through your skin so even if you did hear it, your mind was on another level. Finally he pulled his head back, still crouched so he looked up at you, a smirk sporting his lips. 

“You wore it.”

You rolled your eyes, and pulled your hands away from him, as he stood to his full height. “You’re the one who begged me to, Byun,” you huffed.

“No, I didn’t!” he exclaimed, sounding aghast at your presumption.

“Oh, really?” you egged, eyes sparkling. “Please? Just for me? Ring any bell?”

“Okay, okay, whatever, you say,” he grinned, hand coming up to ruffle your hair.

You frowned playfully before continuing. “But you did a really good job! You worried over nothing.”

“Who said I worried?” he pouted.

You laughed before motioning to his eye bags. He swatted at your hands, before the two of you burst into giggles. 

And then suddenly he’s grabbing your free hand, his encasing yours in warmth and raising it up into the air before shouting a loud ‘let’s go!’ to the rest of the people in the room.

The team chorused shouts in answer before Baekhyun tugged at your arm, eyes smiling like they held the galaxy and stars back at you before pulling you with the crowd that filed out of the cramped room. 

You lost Baekhyun to the crowd once you got to the party. Migrating towards the kitchen, you grabbed a soda from the fridge, deciding to pass on the drinks tonight, no matter how enticing they were. Sehun found you brooding in the corner not two minutes later, and true to his word, didn’t leave your side. You, Sehun, and Mina, played in a beer pong game with some guys you vaguely recognize from your sociology class, but can’t put a name on. You played rock, paper, scissors, every time to see who’d drink and it was as if Sehun got on the wrong side of Dionysus tonight. You quickly got bored, however, gravitating away from the crowd when Sehun and Mina headed out on to the dance floor. It couldn’t really be called that when really it was just the living room with some strobe lights and stereos that blasted half-assed music.

You took a seat on the empty two seater, sipping on your soda, and looking up when Jongdae came down to sit next to you.

“Having fun?” he asked, voice almost muffled by the music even though he was practically screaming.

“I think I’ve had enough for the night,” you laughed. “I’ll just find Baekhyun and Sehun and tell them I’m leaving before I go,” you say before getting up.

“Oh, I think I saw Baekhyun before, I’ll take you to him,” he commented, before leading the way.

It isn’t hard to find Baekhyun, what with his eccentric hair color and white outfit. However, Jongdae suddenly stops in front of you, making you bump into him. 

His mouth opened to say something and you peeked over his shoulder, thinking that there was something there that you just had to see. “What is it—”

Your voice falters and then you lock eyes with Byun Baekhyun. And he’s kissing someone. He’s kissing Eunha.

Baekhyun regrets it the moment it happened. His eyes fly open, when her mouth comes into contact with his and he sees your eyes undoubtedly meet his across the crowds of people hovering over the shoulder of Kim Jongdae. You stare into his eyes and before he can even pull away or shout your name, your gone, surrounding yourself in the shadows with Jongdae running behind you. He snaps his head back, glaring at Eunha.

He doesn’t bother to speak a word to her, opting to run after the way you came from. Shit, shit, shit, this probably would not end well. No, no, no need for negative thoughts, he will make it end well.

He doesn’t find you in the kitchen which was the way you were headed but he found Sehun and pounced on his immediately.

“Did you see, Y/N?”

“Huh, no, why?” Sehun asked, eyebrows furrowed. The smile was wiped off his face and in place a frown. “Hyung…”

“Just, see if she texted you maybe?” Baekhyun pleads, voice growing louder at the upturn of music. Sehun cocks his head but does as he said, eyes widening before showing him the text.

y/n: sorry sehunnie, didn’t feel too well. went back home if you need me ^^

Baekhyun’s heart runs into overdrive, and he’s out of the door a split second after. His feet are carrying him as fast as possible and when he’s finally on the elevator going up to your floor, eyes blown out and breath ragged from running, he takes a moment to conserve himself. It was a mistake. And you have to understand that. Because what Baekhyun realized as he was egging the taxi driver to go faster across the city, was that he wanted you there with him. He wanted to kiss you. Not Eunha. Not anyone else. And he wanted to kiss you really fucking bad. 

The door dings open and he sees the color of your jacket as you shuffle through your bag, presumably looking for your keys.

He’s by your side in a second and you turn and look around to see what's all the raucous. You visibly stiffen. Your face is streaked with tears, eyes puffy, cheeks blotchy, and lips a dark rouge as if you’ve been biting them for hours. 

“Y/N…” Baekhyun starts hand reaching for your wrist unconsciously. You shift away from this and Baekhyun notices that deflating.

“What are you doing here?” you question, voice wobbling, as if you were about to start crying any second now. And from the way it looked, it seemed to be true.

“That kiss—” he starts, and Baekhyun realizes his voice is far too loud for the quiet of the empty hallway and as you flinch, he takes a sharp breath. “That kiss meant nothing. Eunha doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. She’s just an ex, and I guess she thought since I was being nice to her that meant that we could be together again, and really it isn’t anything like that because I don’t like her anymore.”

You blink owlishly at him, looking as if you aren't digesting what he was saying, which made Baekhyun halt. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Be-because, you saw! You saw me kissing Eunha, and I obviously had to explain it or else there would be too many misconceptions—”

“You don’t have to tell me that. It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.” You laugh heartlessly and sniffle. “I’m just some delusional girl who thinks that just because she used to be your friend ages ago, she would somehow have even a sliver of a chance that you would like her, but again that’s delusional! Because it somehow managed to slip my mind that you’re Byun Baekhyun of the baseball team. Handsome, smart, athletic, kind, caring, loving and not the Byun Baekhyun who’d tripped over his own feet and have dirt and drool over his face all the time—”

Your crying as Baekhyun kisses you.

His weight leans into you and you take small steps back as your back hits the wall behind you. He adds more pressure, tilting his head, hand gripping your hand more just in case you felt as if this wasn’t real, which he believed what would be running through your mind now. 

He feels like absolute putty when you soften at his touch and splay a delicate hand over his chest, and when he bites down on your lip you make a noncommittal noise from the back of your throat that has him falling. 

You squeak when Baekhyun’s hands, one placed on your hip and the other on your neck and in your hair and everywhere, tilt your head higher, bringing him deeper into the kiss. It isn’t until you gently push him back, breathless, and eyes hooded that he takes a moment to consider the predicament he stood in. 

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” you breathe, wiping the stray tears away from your face.

Baekhyun chuckles softly, patting down your hair. “I thought you would say that.”

The clicking of a lock from the other side of the hall, snaps both your attention towards it. Baekhyun is amused as you look at him wide-eyed as the clicks continue. You pick up the key that somehow dropped to the floor in the midst of everything and are quick to open your door pulling Baekhyun in. 

When the door shuts behind Baekhyun, with you leaning against his chest, breathing deep, and Baekhyun leaning against the door, he can’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

His hands snake their way into your hair, one of them tilting your chin up. “Round two?” he smiles, cheekily.

You blush a pretty red before nodding and meeting him in the middle for a kiss.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

“who are you?”

prompt: “who are you?”

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

hi im back on my grimm bullshit this time with some torture! sorry for posting this so late in the day i was out and didn’t have enough time before to post. i edited beforehand but there is a chance some stuff might be weird idk and i am too tired to bother looking it over again.

His hands are tied up behind him, so tightly that they’re starting to go numb. His legs are tied up, too, but separately, each to the one of the legs of a chair. There is a thick blindfold covering his eyes, again tied far too tightly for him to have any hope of getting it off (he’d tried. Several times. But nothing had happened). 

Nobody’s here. He supposes they must be coming, though. People don’t generally get tied to chairs and blindfolded for no reason. 

He wishes he knew where he was. Who had taken him. He’d been exploring an old house, off the record, for reasons barely tangential to the actual case he was working. As far as he’d known, it didn’t belong to anyone, and no one in particular was using it, so he’d thought it’d be safe. 

He supposes it could still be. Just because being in that house is the last thing he remembers doesn’t exactly mean that it’s the last place he’d been. Whoever has him could have grabbed him from anywhere. Which is decidedly not a comforting thought. 

Finally, he hears a door open and close. He figures whoever it is isn’t going to be anyone pleasant, but at the very least they’re a sign that something is happening. Maybe they’ll tell him what’s going on.

He hears the person approach, heavy, even footfalls and steady breathing. Someone well acquainted with people tied to chairs, presumably. They say nothing. Just stand in front of him. Nick pictures eyes scrutinizing him, calculating. He wonders whether it isn’t better that he can’t see.

“Who are you?” he asks, after he becomes sure that several minutes have passed. The person still has said nothing, hasn’t moved. It’s a little creepy and entirely too suspenseful. If they’re going to do something to him (which they have to, he figures), the least they can do is get on with it. 

In answer to his question, he hears something slosh, and scarcely has time to wonder what it is before freezing-cold water is poured onto his head. He coughs, sure for a second that they’re going to waterboard him, but nothing else touches his face. He shivers. 

“What the hell was that for?”

No answer. 

He sits there, dripping, trying to figure out what the game is here. He has to admit, pouring water on someone doesn’t sound like the most effective torture technique out there. He’s cold, sure, but that’s it. There must be something worse coming, he thinks. 

And there is. 

At first, it doesn’t seem so bad. He feels metal prongs poke into his neck, and then a jolt of electricity that moves his whole body. This happens a few times. It’s fairly exhausting, but not extremely painful, though being wet definitely isn’t doing him any favors. 

Eventually, the shocks stop coming, leaving him shaking, whether from the electricity or from the water, he doesn’t know. Presumably both. 

“Wh-who are you?” he asks again, through chattering teeth. If he just knows who they are, maybe he can reason with them, tell them what they want to hear…

No answer. “What do you want?” he tries. Still, nothing. 

Someone punches him in the stomach, which is...unexpected. They hit him a few more times before stopping abruptly, like they’ve changed their mind. 

Which he supposes they have. He’s hit again, across the chest, but definitely not with a fist. It feels...like some kind of pipe, maybe? Definitely metal. It makes a sort of hollow clanging sound every time it hits him. He tries to think of other things about the pipe. Maybe it was from a plumbing system, or maybe left over at a build site...anything to distract himself from how it feels slamming into his torso, over and over, each time causing him to lose his breath, barely able to catch it before the next hit is coming. It’s a dull kind of pain, but it hurts more than the shocks had, and he can’t stop himself from making occasional noises of pain. He’d ask them to stop, too, if he had the breath to do it. 

Like they’ve read his thoughts, the beating stops. It takes a moment for that to sink in, as his body feels so raw with the pain that for all he can tell they may very well still be hitting him. But it must stop, because he hears the pipe clatter to the floor. 

Everything just aches. He tries to take a deep breath, feeling it catch in his throat with a kind of choking sound. It hurts. His whole torso throbs in time with his heartbeat. 

“What…” he tries to ask, but the person slaps him across the face, sharp in contrast to the pain in his torso, and he feels tears well unbidden in his eyes. Shutting up, he thinks. I got it. 

The water comes back, for a split second welcome against the burning in his face and the aching in his torso. Then it’s just cold. He shivers, feeling the movement interact unpleasantly with his injuries. 

Then they stab him. He doesn’t even feel it at first. Not until the warmth of his blood becomes noticeable against his cold skin. Then he feels it. Shallow and thin, but definitely a stab, into his right shoulder. It burns.

Evidently, the knife is not done being used with just the one stab. Nick feels it trace a slow pattern across his face, and then cut a thin line from the corner of his right eye down to the middle of his cheek. It’s actually not that painful. 

And then the knife is back, tearing cuts through his shirt until he’s sure the fabric must have turned red. Each cut on its own doesn’t hurt too much, but all together they do. Several of them are right across the area on his torso where they’d beaten him with the pipe. These ones present an especially intense pain that makes him wish that they’d knock him over the head just a little bit too hard. Unconsciousness is sounding really good about now…

Another round of water is dumped over his head, stinging unpleasantly on his new cuts. Then they punch him in the jaw, and then again on either side of his face, sending his head from one direction to the other entirely too quickly. They finish off the punches with a powerful one to his already battered and cut torso, which makes him scream for the first and only time. He takes a shuddering breath that turns into something like a sob, and can’t stop himself from muttering, “please...stop.”

They...listen? He feels his legs get untied, though he’s in too much pain to use them to kick out at his captor. Then he’s being lifted, his arms never getting untied, just moved upwards until they clear the back of the chair. He feels his body get thrown over someone’s shoulder with a jolting pain that makes all of his injuries hurt at once, and then something is held over his mouth and nose and he doesn’t try to fight it at all, just breathes in as deeply as he can and willingly falls into unconsciousness. 

--

He wakes up confused, shivering, cold, aching, still tied up, still blindfolded, lying on something that feels like dirt. He focuses his ears above the blood pounding in his head and hears a bird caw, hears distant cars. He’s outside. He’s free. 

The ropes around his wrists are looser now, and he manages to wriggle his hands free, feeling his wrists grow slick with blood. 

As soon as he gets a hand free, he’s reaching up to tear off the blindfold, noting with discomfort the pulling feeling on every single injury on his torso. It comes away, and...he still can’t see. Because it’s night, he reminds himself, blinking hard. A few stars twinkle in the sky, and faint moonlight comes through a cloud. He turns his gaze to his surroundings as he unties his ankles. 

He’s on a dirt path, surrounded by trees. They grow denser to his right and seem to disappear to his left. He hopes that means there’s a road, rather than some kind of cliff. 

He slowly gets to his feet, legs shaking underneath his weight. His body aches, and it feels like the hardest task in the world to just take a step, but once he starts walking it gets a little easier. He curls an arm protectively around his torso and starts off at a slow limp for the edge of the trees. 

A road. He’s never felt luckier in his entire life. It’s a fairly small road, with no cars on it and no lights on in any of its buildings, but it’s a road, and that means people, somewhere. People that can hopefully help him.

He looks around, squinting in the darkness, shivering in the cool nighttime air. There are no visible landmarks, just vague shapes that might be buildings or might be nothing at all. He wishes that the clouds would uncover the moon. 

Which they do, after a time. The moonlight reveals nothing but an empty stretch of road and a solitary billboard. Great, he thinks, and then he looks at the billboard again and realizes that he knows it - he’d driven past it earlier, on his way to the house he’d been exploring. It can’t be far, then. He doesn’t know whether he should really go back there, but it’s the only familiar thing he can think of, and familiarity sounds pretty damn good, so he sets off. 

At some point, he passes the billboard. The moon disappears back behind the clouds, and when he turns around he can’t see the billboard at all. He wonders for a horrible second whether or not he’s delirious and imagining things, and then he sees lights up ahead. He goes towards them instinctively, not particularly caring who they might belong to. He’s nearly gotten close enough to make out distinct figures when he hears footsteps behind him, and the sound of a gun clicking. 

He raises trembling hands into the air, hoping he’s not about to get killed after all of this. 

“Who are you? Turn around slowly,” says a voice, and Nick knows that voice. He’s safe. 

Any adrenaline that might’ve been in his body leaves it all at once, and he collapses to the ground, which hurts quite a lot, but the relief of lying down more than makes up for it. 

Until he feels a gun press into his back. 

“Stop, stop,” he mutters, hoping he’ll be heard. “‘S me. ‘S Nick.”

“Nick?” 

He nods jerkily, face scraping against the asphalt. The gun leaves his back, and he feels himself get turned over, then finds himself looking directly into the face of his boss. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful to see the man in his life.

Renard is still for a moment, kneeling in front of him on the ground, looking him up and down. 

Nick waits for him to finish doing...whatever the hell it is he’s doing and ask him what had happened. But the question never comes. Instead, Renard very gently helps him up into a sitting position. Then he pulls off his jacket, and Nick wonders what he’s doing, because it’s really cold out here, and if he had a jacket on right now, he wouldn’t take it off for the world. 

And then there is a jacket on him, Renard’s jacket, too big but incredibly warm and dry, and he burrows himself into it as much as he can, grabbing its edges and pulling it tighter around his body. 

“What’s happening?” he hears someone say from above him. He resolutely does not look up at them, in fact scrunching his eyes shut. He really doesn’t want to share anything with anyone at the moment.

“I found him,” Renard says, and Nick experiences a shocking array of emotions in a few seconds as he realizes that there’s people out here who were looking for him. “Or, he found me.”

There’s a bit of chatter that he doesn’t really focus on, and then Renard’s hand is on his shoulder, and he’s asking whether Nick wants to tell them about it.

He really doesn’t. He shakes his head, feeling slightly overwhelmed as everything that had happened to him starts to sink in. 

“Okay, that’s fine,” Renard says, which is definitely not what Nick is expecting him to say.

His next statement is not addressed at Nick. “Clear up,” he says, and Nick hears feet moving away. “Thank you all for your help, but Detective Griffin and I have it handled from here.”

Hank.

Nick hears another pair of feet approach and opens his eyes, relieved when the only people he sees are his Captain and his best friend. 

“Hey,” Hank says, sounding concerned but not pitying. “How are you doing?”

Nick shrugs. “Cold,” he says. “Wet...achy. Pain.” Not the most coherent sentence he’s ever uttered, though he figures it gets his point across well enough.

“I bet,” Renard says, rather gently. “We’ll get you to the hospital, and they’ll fix all that for you.”

He nods. The hospital...actually sounds pretty good, for once. He feels someone pick him up, very gently, though it hurts like hell anyway. 

He finds himself in the backseat of Renard’s car, lying down with his head across Hank’s lap. He’s pretty good for a makeshift pillow, Nick decides, as Renards starts the car. 

A short drive later, he’s being picked up again, and he watches with unfocused eyes as various doctors hurry up to their little group. Someone comes up with a gurney, and then he’s being set down onto it, and then he’s moving and Renard and Hank aren’t there, which is a scarier feeling than he’d like to admit, but then something pokes into his arm and everything fades away.

--

He wakes up hurting less, feeling rather warm and very much dry. He feels a bandage on his face, another on his shoulder, something wrapped around his torso…

“You awake?”

He blinks his eyes open and looks around for a second, until he sees Hank. He gives him a tired smile, which Hank returns. 

“Feeling better?”

Nick nods. “Much,” he says. “Thanks.”

“No thanks for me?” comes a voice from his other side. 

Nick turns around carefully, eyes landing on Renard, standing next to the bed with what looks like two steaming hot cups of coffee in his hands. 

Renard must catch Nick’s eye, because he steps around the bed and hands one of the cups to Hank, pulling the other close to himself. “Sorry, no coffee for hospital patients,” he says, almost smiling. Nick gives him the same tired smile he’d given Hank. 

“How long until I’m not a hospital patient?”

Renard sighs. “A day at most. Nothing required stitches, but they’d like to keep you for observation for a while.”

Nick nods. “Thanks,” he says, figuring Renard will understand he doesn’t just mean thanks for the information.

Renard nods. There’s silence for a second.

“Nick…”

He knows what’s coming. 

“I’ll file a report,” he assures his boss. “Just...not until I’m out of here.”

“Okay.”

He’s immensely grateful that neither of them presses him to talk about it any further. He will talk about it, he knows, and it’ll be fine, but for the moment, everything’s a little too raw and he’s a little too tired to be able to do it.

His eyes slip closed, and he hears Renard leave. Hank doesn’t move, staying right where he is, and Nick knows this means he’s safe, so he gives in to sleep.

thanks so much for reading!! love u <3

[chiseler]

The Old Masters: Kurt Kren

31/75: Asyl / 31/75: Asylum (1975)

Kurt Kren (1929-1998) was best known for his work with the unpleasant bodily-fluid ridden productions of the Vienna Aktionists, a group of Hitler’s children whose post-war adolescence did in art what Ulrike Meinhof did in direct action. The suffocating atmosphere of retooled Nazi industrialists and amnesia with a born-again uptightness produced predictable results: the state must not be allowed to retain a monopoly on violence. How many Blood Order members can you watch, parading sanctimoniously on television, grinning in deathsheads from podiums, telling everyone that they have always been good citizen democrats, without wanting to burn it all down?

The body is alienated by the rigid control systems of Nazi and post-Nazi Germany (a continuum by other means); the invisible bodies of the pulverized dead shadow the plants and office blocks; Tiergartenstraße No. 4, where Aktion T-4 (Aktionist?) was hatched—the extermination of the unfit and insane—is now a bus terminal; tourists marvel at the great modernist IG Farben complex, alone in an otherwise-erased Frankfurt (IG Farben’s American legal representative: John Foster Dulles, who also worked for Krupp). No wonder Kren and his friends Otto Muehl and Herman Nitsch wanted to cut off their fingers and smear themselves with vomit, filming it all straight on, just like the Nazis shot the Warsaw Ghetto.

Kurt Kren

Sitting through works like Kardinal, Self-Multilation, and Sodoma remains a chore, but for different reasons than in 1969, I hazard. The glaring bright colors now reflect Japanese game shows or late style millionaire pop art; the beatings, couplings, spurtings and evacuations have long been appropriated by gross-out horror shtick in mainstream Hollywood, likewise the flashing old film stock and jump cuts. What is left is a past-tense sense of the epic, a lofty Wagnerian pronouncement that the cinema is best equipped to investigate violence and that entertainment is really all just fascism. Shaking off the idea of gesamkunstwerk or the marble atrocities of Arno Breker proved harder than it looked, no matter how true every sickened pronouncement of Aktionist agit-prop was—and it was, it certainly is true.

If the ‘Baroque’ aspect of these films was once part of the attack, it has now become a sign of the long dreary reach of fetishism and managed hypocrisy. The problem with animal intestines, bodies wrapped in metal wire, and piles of soaking flesh is that the arrangement does not mirror the repressed psyche of a generation of sons of Gauleiters, born-again liberal bureaucrats and captains of industry, but a great cathedral of interlinked reactionary problems to be solved hermetically. From this point on, such problems were doomed to become wholly personal—as if the artists were unconsciously terrified of collective nihilism after Goebbels cornered the market. Austria is mainly Catholic, and the confessional is never far away from Aktionist agony. Redemption rears its bestial head—which also implies a second innocence, which is postmodern salvation.

To expose the unreality of what remained of the saccharine and morose Nazi regime via vitriol and bleeding flesh was clearly not enough. After the Aktionists called it quits and retired to their various castles and cultic fiefdoms, the Red Army Faction kidnapped former SS officer, then-CDU member, and Bundesverband der Deutschen Industrie head Hanns Martin Schleyer in 1977. When the German government refused to trade this grotesque relic for four captured RAF fighters (who were mysteriously found hanging in their cells afterward, á la the ANC in South Africa, and also like Ulrike Meinhof, a year earlier, another ‘suicide’—all of which shows the repulsive cynicism lurking under a supposedly ‘democratic’ state), Herr Schleyer was topped and left in the trunk of an Audi. No loss, but tears and outrage flowed from a middle class that forgot that it was a far, far greater executioner in ‘39. The late 1970s were dark, dark, dark. The very outrageousness of their ‘happenings’ show that the Aktionists were suckered in by hope ten years prior. The world remakes itself, oblivious.

The case of Aktionist Kren is more curious and longer lasting than the King Ludwig-like careers of Nitsch and Muehl. His early films were stark or wiggly or frozen: trees, landscapes, little images, people in rooms doing hypnotized screen tests. Unlike his later direction in Sodoma et al, he seemed concerned with the medium’s archaic properties and the possibility of making still-life and landscape political. He returned to this program out of the Aktionist dead end.

31/75: Asyl, from 1975, a sequel to his 1960 3/60: Bäume im Herbst, is one of his best films. More Holbein than Kaspar David Friedrich, it shrinks the epic panorama down to an insect view. Using a simple form of time-lapse photography, a static shot shows farmland and a winding road in late autumn to early winter. By placing various filters over the lens, days pass in globules, wax drippings, thick polluted rain, condensation and gum. A man with a dog goes in and out of frame; the snow melts, it rains; light shifts. Not blood and soil but damp, oily mud like a Turner marsh. And no heroics with geysers of blood, iron crosses and milk, the exegesis of guilt. However, there is certainly something displacing the day here. The status quo of round-ups and tests? Isolation, inner migration? The ‘asylum’ of the title suggests a place of refuge but like in English, the German asyl can also mean a madhouse or political asylum. The film was shot in Saarland, West Germany, under French control after WW1 but returned to Germany in 1935. Saarland is border country, a place of several masters and populations on the move. Kren himself was sent off on one of the Kindertransport to Rotterdam, where he lived until the end of the war.

Wilhelm Reich, in his book The Mass Psychology of Fascism, showed that the mysticism of Nazi ideology was depicted foremost in pretzeled human bodies, a combination of Protestant asceticism and cheap porn cartooned in the figure of the swastika. Before landscape, Fascism uses bulky propaganda to conjure up the Fatherland and recites bad poetry about the holy relation between man, pig, earth and muck. Sacrifice is the Father’s cloying prayer, his own death extended by his sons’ dying—for most fathers in the Fatherland rented their land from wealthy landlords, rented rooms from good Aryans, worked for Herr NSDAP Millionaire Flick. Places of death are used over and over again; their industrial emptiness ensures that no birds sing. No birds sing, but not out of reverence for the dead so much as disgust for the living—the quiet living that made those dead, that signed contracts for transport expediency for a Jew, Gypsy or a Red.

Kren’s view from a windowsill does have some of this void mood, yet he rejects the trap of timelessness in favor of everyday decay. The immortal Frost Gods can only bury dogshit in deep snows, give you pneumonia, cake your axel with mud. The landscape lives on geologically and not mystically. It has beautiful things, extraordinary things, because its own microscopic changes are more fabulous than eternity. Kren’s little film avoids both faces of the same reactionary crisis: that of the epic-making National Socialists, and his own earlier anti-epics that attacked the drapery of the historical fasces. Fall and winter last a little over 8 minutes in the duration of this film, which took 21 days to shoot. The Third Reich was supposed to last for 525,600,000 minutes, which is a thousand years of unreal time. William Blake wrote: He who binds to himself a joy/ Does the winged life destroy.

All of Kren’s films are curious, even his old naughty routines. He moved to America in 1978 and travelled the country, stopping to show his films at universities before finally settling in Texas, where he split his time between Austin and Houston. There, he became a fixture in the punk scene, appearing with some of the best bands of the time, projecting his films behind the noisy vigorous music of Left agitators like Really Red and Culturcide. Always a workman, he made new films while employed as a security guard at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts. He died back in Vienna in 1998.

by Martin Billheimer

Links:

Technical details of the film here:  http://www.resettheapparatus.net/corpus-work/id-31-75-asylum.html

The film @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cblbgbnE1wo

‘Ode to Kurt Kren’, fan video with photos, using the tribute song by his friends, Really Red, recorded 1982: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3_RfD0Qv_k

[rycbar-horcrux]

flower crowns and nature + belexa is sending me to happy land tbh. ahhhhhh, they must be so happy. correct me if im wrong but lexi would be the one to fall asleep i think? i can just picture bex pushing a strand or two out of her face and just smiling at lexi’s restful face while she leans in to peck her on the cheek, but gently so as not to disturb her.

It sends me to happy land too, and you’re right, they are so happy. 😊 Just two dopes in love and spending some quiet time together. Ugh okay, you’ve twisted my arm so here’s my random ramblings about this whole little moment.

Okay, so the way I’m imagining things is that they’ve had a tough couple of days. They had a heist go wrong, not out of a lack of planning or a bad plan, but because someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was able to raise the alarm. As a result they decided that it was best to lay low for a while whilst the heat dies down. But that’s mostly cos they know that if they get caught they’ll be shipped off to the big house and most likely split up. And if we’ve learned anything by this point, it’s that the pair would hate that. It’s not so bad at first, but after a few days, frustration is definitely building. Bex is faring well enough, her plants plus planning for the next heist keeping her busy but Lexi not so much.

Bex bit back a sigh of her own as Lexi’s sigh echoed around the quiet room for what must be at least the fifth time in as many minutes. The sound was a little muffled, as if Lexi had tried to conceal it, but once again it was an action that proved unsuccessful. Bex’s eyes remained fixed on the blueprints in front of her as she heard the sound of the remote being tossed aside before footsteps rang out as Lexi stood and moved around. Mentally counting down, a small wry smile flitted across her face as the sound of Lexi slumping back down reached her ears right as she hit zero. Dropping her pencil for the moment, Bex dragged a hand tiredly down her face before resting her head on it, turning to watch Lexi from her space at the table. As she’d suspected, the other girl was sprawled along the couch, staring morosely in the direction of the window. She was like a sad little flower, all droopy and colours dulled, not having received the vital components necessary for it to thrive. Draped across it’s living space, but having resigned itself to not getting what it wants for the time being.

Bex definitely understood how she felt. Her plants and planning had kept her mind occupied for longer than they had Lexi’s, but their self imposed imprisonment was beginning to grate on her nerves. Her eyes continued to run over Lexi’s form as her thoughts continued, bouncing around her head much like Lexi had taken to bouncing around their home. Usually the walls that surrounded them were a comfort to Bex- a kind of safe place for her and Lexi, their own little world away from everything else- but apparently you could have too much of a good thing. As much as Bex loved spending time with Lexi, a part of her longed to feel the warm sun directly on her skin, a slight breeze blowing through her hair, or even some cool drops of rain soaking her completely. With a small shake of her head Bex pulled her eyes away from the window they had drifted to and back to Lexi who had picked the remote back up and was now spinning it between her two hands. Her shoulders were tight with tension and Bex knew that it was only a matter of time before she would fling the remote aside and the energy became too much for her small body to remain still again. Then the pacing would resume, like a captured animal pacing the space that it was contained to.

Then again, it had been a couple of days now, maybe, just maybe… Bex straightened in thought as the seeds of an idea planted in her head, firmly taking root and blossoming as she sprinkled it with attention. She glanced quickly at the window, before returning her attention to Lexi.

“Right, c’mon then Lexi.”

As Bex pushed herself upright and away from the table Lexi’s eyes spun around to meet hers, question written all over her face.

“I think we’ve spent long enough inside and we deserve a break.”

“But you said it would be best to lay low for a while. It’s broad daylight and for all we know they might still be looking for us.”

Having now reached the couch, Bex paused looking down at Lexi and taking in the conflicted look that crossed her face.

“They might,” she conceded with a small nod, “But I think it might have been long enough. I’m sure someone else has flung themselves into the spotlight by now. Besides the place I’ve got in mind is quiet.” She stretched a hand out towards Lexi before she finished, “Trust me?”

Lexi met her eyes straight on, hand already in Bex’s before she replied, her voice ringing with sincerity, “Always.” She cleared her throat, letting Bex pull her to her feet before she spoke again, voice now lighter, “Lead the way then, Bex.”

So they end up in the car, comfortable silence filling the space between them as Bex drove, with Lexi taking in everything passing them by as they head out of the city. And Bex could tell that Lexi’s confusion had been building, coming to a head as they pulled up seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but the other girl kept quiet. The trust was visible in Lexi’s eyes as she rounded the car to meet her, gently linking their hands again. Neither broke the silence as Bex lead the way, tugging Lexi away from the road and through trees. It took a few minutes of winding movement before the trees gave way into open space, a river visible beyond the small plain of grass in front of them. The pair come to a halt as the shade was lost and bright sunlight hit them again, a small content sigh escaping Bex as she took in the sight that met them.

It had been a while since she had been there but the sight proved to be just as breathtaking as always. The way the water sparkled and glittered as the sunlight danced across it. The vibrant green grass that was broken up by a myriad of colour created by the wildflowers that had claimed the area as home. The buttercups and the bluebells, the daisies and the geraniums, as well as the irises that lay closer to the river, to name but a few. Beyond the river, fields of green greeted her eyes, seeming to go on as far as the eye could see.

“It’s beautiful.”

The small, barely there words broke through her thoughts. Unable to resist, Bex turned her head, taking a moment to take Lexi in.

The Lexi that stood next to her was a marked improvement on the one of not long ago. It was as if her entire being had lightened and straightened, almost like a flower in the face of the sun. Face tilted slightly towards it, letting the rays wash over her, the light rejuvenating her to her former self. Bex took in the way Lexi’s shoulders had dropped, previous tension having seeped away. Then there was the way her eyes sparkled in the sunlight. The smile that tugged at the corner of her lips as well as the look of almost wonder as she took the sight in.

Her own lips curled into a small unbidden smile as she continued to look at her, thumb gently caressing the back of Lexi’s hand as she spoke. “Yeah, beautiful.”

The two then spent some time wandering alongside the river, Lexi occasionally pausing to pick flowers, and getting Bex to tell her all about them. Other than their voices, the area was mostly quiet; just far enough away from the road that any car passing by goes unheard. In fact there was only the gentle sound of the flowing water, along with the occasional splash be it from a fish or a family of ducks, as well as the sounds of passing wildlife - Nature’s own little song - to punctuate the silence, lulling them further into a sense of tranquility. After a while the pair ended up collapsed on the grass, arms wrapped around one another as they lay. They spent some time taking in the clouds above, playfully arguing over what each one looked more like, and whether the other was looking at it upside down. But other than that the pair remained quiet, taking the time to just enjoy the moment.

Before she’d realised it, the weight on her shoulder had gradually grown heavier and turning, Bex discovered that Lexi had fallen asleep. Bathed in the glow of the sun, her face seemed to have grown even more peaceful as she found her rest. Bex practically marvelled at the sight of her girl, it truly was something that she’d never get enough of. She was broken from her thoughts as Lexi sighed softly and shifted slightly, pressing her face closer towards Bex’s neck, a few strands of hair falling across her face in the process. They were quickly tucked securely behind Lexi’s ear with a care that spoke of a well practiced hand before Bex dropped a quick gentle kiss to the now uncovered cheek.

As a sudden mental image flashed through her mind she had to bite her tongue to contain her laughter. It was surprisingly apt, Lexi definitely looked much more like one of those disney princesses that she was so fond of as opposed to a chaotic supervillain at the moment.

Bex’s very own Sleeping Beauty.

She was almost tempted to lean back down and press a kiss to those lips, see if the tale was true and the princess would awaken, but managed to hold herself back, not wanting to risk disturbing her.

Well, if there was one thing that she knew, it was that a princess deserved a crown. And Lexi? Well, if you asked Bex, she deserved the grandest one of all. So she eyed the bundle of collected flowers before quietly getting to work. Her task proved a little bit more difficult than usual seeing as she kept her arm wrapped snugly around Lexi’s waist, but she made it work. Soon she was carefully sliding the completed crown down onto Lexi’s head, twisting it slightly to ensure that it was sitting just right. Satisfaction filled her as she took in her work, pleased with how the whole thing turned out. She couldn’t wait to see the other girl’s reaction.

With a final look at Lexi, Bex let her eyes drift shut, the warm rays of the sun, along with the comforting press of Lexi against her proving to be too much for her to fight. And so the two lay gently holding one another, hidden away from any prying eyes by the surrounding trees as the sun and perhaps Nature itself watched over them.

And maybe when Bex woke up it was to find herself still entwined with Lexi, the flower crown still in place, but a small flower chain now gracing her own wrist. A simple but delicate little thing made up mostly of daisies, but some forget-me-nots also twisted in too.

And maybe they don’t really need to say anything; Bex’s soft look as Lexi’s hand slides down her wrist, gently running over the flower chain as she continues down to interlace their fingers and Lexi’s wide but slightly bashful grin as Bex reaches up to straighten her crown saying absolutely everything they could ever want to.

[eddieeatsass]

ok but like a hanzier propsal fic please? i just need one in my life and im really going down cause i can't find any. ( also smut in it if you're feeling generous hehe )

I’m sorry it took longer than expected to get this to you, life got in the way! But I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the prompt.

Read On AO3

Richie and Mike were an anomaly. A peculiar match that shocked everyone as much as it shocked them themselves. They moved as a unit, despite being so vastly different in all other capacities. Their love is what stitched them together, made them immovable, a constant in everyone’s lives.

They’d gotten together at an early age, the pull between them impossible to ignore. While the rest of the Losers were exploring their hearts, Mike and Richie spent their nights curled up together in the fields at Mike’s farm, watching the stars and making wishes on the ones that shot by.

So, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when they got engaged. Everyone has seen it coming from a mile away. At 25, the pair had been together for nearly 9 years, a decade approaching at light speed to wrap up their adoration for each other in a pretty little bow.

They’d been talking about marriage since they were teenagers, young and naive to the realities of the world outside of high school. They’d thought they could get hitched as soon as they were out of school, settle down in a big house with three dogs, and call it a day. Unfortunately, life had other plans. Finances and secondary education snuck up on them quickly, pulling the wool off their eyes and exposing sensitive nerves to adult life. They adapted, but not without having to make some adjustments to their original plan. A big house became a small off-campus apartment, which they had to share with Stan and Bill just to make rent. Three dogs became one goldfish, which Richie adamantly insisted they name “Spot”. And getting married got put on the back burner, a dream for another time. A time when they weren’t buried in student loans, homework, and minimum wage jobs.

While it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that they got engaged, how they got engaged was a story in itself.

Mike had always been the level-headed part of the twosome, balancing out Richie’s grand imagination and impulsive nature. So, when he decided he wanted to propose, he had to start thinking like his boyfriend. A proposal to Richie couldn’t simply be “level-headed”, it had to match how wild and loud and full of life he was. Mike had mulled over ideas for weeks until he finally admitted he needed to recruit some help, so he went to the only other person who knew Richie as well as he did: Beverly Marsh.

Beverly was, of course, ecstatic to hear that Mike planned on proposing. But she also wasn’t shy to tell him how much his ideas sucked. A walk along the beach, a boat ride, a nature walk; they were all sweet gestures, but they weren’t as memorable as Mike wanted them to be.

Finally, after another week of discreetly texting one another, Beverly and Mike came up with a plan, and a month later he was putting it into action.

It was the 10th of July, the day that Richie had officially asked Mike to be his boyfriend all those years ago. Mike planned a weekend trip for them to visit Derry, catch up with their parents and see how much the town had changed since they’d left. Neither of them had enjoyed living there when they’d been kids but going back had a nostalgic draw that made it seem sentimental. It hadn’t been all bad; long days freckling under the sun at the Quarry, making Eddie squirm as they trudged through the mucky waters of the Barrens, muffled giggles into old books as they tried to hide from Ms. Sally’s shushing at the town’s library. And of course, it’s where they met each other. Where they fell in love.

They’d spent the earlier part of the day at the Tozier residence, visiting with Maggie and Went over brunch. Now, they were at the tail-end of dinner with the Hanlons. Will and Jessica were clearing the table when Jessica spoke up.

“Do you two have somewhere to stay tonight?”

“We were just going to grab a room at the motel down the road-” Richie began to say, before Jessica interrupted him with her tutting.

“Nonsense! Why spend money when you can stay here?”

Mike and Richie exchanged a bashful look, knowing that staying in Mike’s childhood room together with his parents right next door might not be… ideal.

Will chuckled, as if reading their minds. “We’re going out tonight, won’t be back ‘till tomorrow afternoon. We’re going swing dancing in Old Town! We’ll be staying with your aunt Mary overnight.”

Mike’s tense shoulders relaxed at the news that they’d have the house all to themselves for the night. It would make his plan go that much smoother.

Jessica brought out dessert, which Richie devoured in record time, and then they were heading out, leaving Richie and Mike to their own devices.

As Richie set off to shower, Mike checked his watch for the umpteenth time that evening, watching the time closely to make sure he followed his schedule down to the minute. Richie’s shower made them a smidge late, but Mike schooled his features to hide his worry so Richie wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Heya hot stuff.” Mike greeted Richie as he strolled out of the bathroom with steam billowing behind him. He had one towel loosely thrown around his hips and was ruffling up his hair with another. Mike got up from his perch on his bed and strolled towards Richie, meeting him in the middle of the room. He grabbed Richie by the hips and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

“Mmm, hi.” Richie whispered against Mike’s lips, a smile curling under the attention.

With a second kiss to Richie’s forehead, Mike pulled himself away.

“So, I was thinking maybe we could walk out to the field and do some stargazing, you know, like we used to.” The suggestion was casual, but Mike’s heart was beating fast. His plan depended on Richie saying yes.

“Yeah sure babe.” Richie responded as he pulled a t-shirt over his wet mop of hair and reached for his boxers. “Just let me get a little more appropriately dressed.” He winked before hopping ungracefully as he pulled on his boxers, tripping slightly but recovering with a charming smile.

Mike’s pulse relaxed immediately, his anxiety being replaced with fondness for this goofy, maladjusted boy he was soon going to propose to.

It took a few more minutes before they were off, hands clasped together as they wandered out into the seemingly never-ending field of the Hanlon’s farm. The night was beautiful, the sky completely devoid of clouds and shining bright with the dim light of the stars.

They walked for a few minutes until the house behind them became part of a separate world, and that’s when Richie saw it.

“Michael!” Richie gasped, as he spotted what was in the distance. They were walking towards a patch of grass covered with a large blanket, surrounded by four lit tiki torches.

Mike couldn’t hold back the grin that split across his face, seeing Richie’s excitement got his own going.

Richie let go of Mike’s hand to sprint the rest of the way to the set-up. When he got there, he noticed there was an abundance of pillows as well as two picnic baskets set aside. Laying down was like resting on a bed of clouds, and he instantly felt all the stress of life evaporating away under the stars.

Mike finally caught up and sat down beside Richie. He looked down at him and couldn’t help but reach a hand out and pet the hair back from Richie’s forehead, letting his fingers linger on his cheek.

“Happy 9 years, my love.” He whispered.

Richie’s eyes flicked their attention to Mike, so much adoration and passion present in those blue pearls.

“Happy 9 years, Mikey.” Richie responded, lifting his hand up to Mikes and lacing their fingers together. He swiftly broke the moment by tugging on Mike’s arm and pulling him down on top of him.

Richie laughed as Mike tried not to crush Richie beneath him as he toppled over. He was still giggling as he brought their lips together, his hands already wandering down the front of Mike’s chest.

Mike had to fight to get his mind and body to comply to the plan he had set up. As much as he wanted to get lost in Richie’s arms, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

So, ignoring Richie’s complaintive whine, Mike rolled off him and towards the baskets he had set aside.

“I don’t want our food to get cold.” Mike used as an excuse. From the basket he procured a tray of chocolate covered strawberries, as well as two champagne flutes along with non-alcoholic champagne. Neither of them really drank, and besides, he wanted to be as lucid as possible for what was about to happen.

He passed the plate off to Richie who grabbed it eagerly, tearing the saran wrap off unceremoniously and beginning his search for the perfect strawberry. Mike poured them both some champagne, taking the time to check his watch again. Eight minutes until the big moment. He took a deep breath before putting the champagne aside and turning back to Richie.

“I found the best one.” Richie exclaimed happily, holding up the biggest strawberry in the pile. It was coated nearly perfectly in chocolate, save for the green stem Richie was holding it by.

“C’mere.” Richie beckoned, setting the tray beside him and scooting closer to Mike.

Mike complied, snuggling close to Richie and handing him one of the flutes.

Richie brought the strawberry up to Mike’s lips, beginning to trace them slowly with the fruit. Richie’s mouth was set tight, but Mike could tell he was trying to hold back laughter.

“Richie this doesn’t-”

“Shhhh.” Richie used the strawberry to quiet him, pressing it more firmly against his lips.

“Let me seduce you.” Richie said in a low attempt at a sultry voice.

Now Mike was also trying not to laugh, his cheeks pulled up into rosy apples as Richie continued his ministrations. Chocolate was melting against Mike’s mouth, giving him the appearance of wearing lipstick. That’s when Richie finally cracked, pulled his hand back and laughing audibly at the mess on Mike’s face.

Mike laughed along, resisting the urge to wipe his mouth right away. Instead, as he’d expected, Richie leaned in after he’d composed himself, and licked the chocolate clean. He finished by pecking Mike innocently before pulling back and finally properly feeding the strawberry to his poor boyfriend.

They continued like that for the next few minutes, laughing and talking, eating the strawberries faster than they probably should and washing down the sweetness with glorified carbonated juice.

Mike got so caught up in the moment that he almost forgot what he was there for, until the loud boom reminded him.

“Fireworks, really? The 4th of July was six days ago!” Richie complained with no real fever. Richie loved fireworks, loved the bright colors and loud noises, loved getting lost in whatever story his brain decided they were telling.

“Let’s watch.” Mike encouraged, taking Richie’s nearly empty flute from him and setting both of theirs back into the picnic basket.

When Mike turned back around, Richie was already laying on his back, his hands folded eagerly on his stomach as his eyes searched the sky for the next show.

Mike lowered himself down beside him, taking a second to memorize the look on Richie’s face at that exact moment.

Another firework exploded above them, accompanied by a quicker burst of a few more. Mike’s gaze stayed on Richie’s face, his hand reaching into his pocket to finger the little ring box he’d been carrying around all day.

Three more fireworks. Richie’s eyes were lit up both with the reflection of the lights, and with that wonder that Mike fell in love with.

Another one.

Then a succession of smaller ones.

And then...

Richie’s eyes were meeting Mike’s, wide and questioning.

Richie’s mouth gaped, words seeming to fail him for the first time in his life.

Above them, the fireworks were quickly disappearing, the fiery words “Richie, Will You Marry Me?” fading into the night’s sky.

“So?” Mike took a deep breath, rolling over on to his side to fully face Richie. His hand pulled the small box out from its confines and he held it up to Richie, popping it open to reveal a delicate gold band.

“What do you say?” Mike’s voice wavered as he waited for a sigh.

“What the fuck.” Richie blurted out, before he started sobbing.

Mike faltered quickly, letting the ring box drop as he prioritized pulling Richie close to his chest.

“Baby, baby I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I-”

A vibration against his chest cut him off. He had to pull away slightly so he could decipher Richie’s words.

“You ruined my plan.” Richie blubbered out again, his tears now juxtaposed by a huge smile that he was trying to disguise as a pout. Mike felt his composure relax. Richie continued without being prompted. “I was going t-to propose next w-weekend.” Richie explained between splutters.

It was Mike’s turn to be speechless now.

“But of course, Mike Hanlon, always the romantic, has to do it on our fucking anniversary.” Richie’s tears were slowing down now, his usual demeanor coming back. “Now I’ll have to see if I can get my deposit back on the horse.”

“Horse…?”

“And I’ll have to call the bakery and cancel the cake order, hopefully the band will be able to find another gig on such short notice, Eddie and Bill are definitely going to have to return their costumes, and-”

“Baby, honey, slow down.” Mike’s gentle hands were cupping Richie’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze.

Richie stopped immediately, closing his eyes and forcing himself to take a deep breath. When his eyes re-opened, they were teary again. “Can I at least say it?”

Mike’s heart felt like it would burst, his love for Richie so palpable in that moment.

“Of course.”

Richie cleared his throat and wiped his eyes as he stood up. He dramatically shook his limbs out one by one, cracking his neck side to side, and then turned back around to face Mike.

“Michael Hanlon. Michael the bicycle. Love of my life. Hopefully one day, bearer of my children. My best friend. My compadre. My-”

“Richie.” Mike cut him off with a laugh.

“Right, right. Sorry. Mike…” Richie got down on one knee, taking Mike’s hand between his own. “Will you marry me?”

Mike’s grin could have rivalled the sun. “Yes. Yesyesyes yes.” Mike rushed out.

“AND THERE WE HAVE IT FOLKS,” Richie let go of Mike’s hand and swiveled on his knees as if to address an invisible audience. He lifted both his hands in triumph. “DERRY’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELORS ARE OFFICIALLY OFF THE MARKET FOR GOOD.”

Mike rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Richie’s torso and pulling him backwards. Richie came crashing down with an eruption of laughter, mixing along with Mike’s own. Mike didn’t waste any time beginning to pepper kisses down Richie’s neck, using his position to pull Richie flush against his chest.

Things heated up quickly. Kisses became more passionate, clothes were shed, and soon the two were left naked under the stars, the kindness of July keeping them warm and the flickering from the tiki torches lighting their hands’ paths. It wasn’t long before Richie was aching for more.

“Mikey…” Richie canted his hips upwards, ushering Mike’s hand, which was gripped around his cock, to move faster.

“Hold on baby, I’ve got you.” Mike twisted his body around uncomfortably to reach for the second picnic basket he’d packed. He opened it up with his free hand, his busy one never ceasing its job, and grabbed for the bottle of lube he’d packed.

The familiar sound of the cap popping open made Richie’s cock twitch.

“Oh my god, you really think of everything, don’t you.” Richie said excitedly.

“One of us has to.” Mike winked.

Richie spread his legs eagerly before Mike even had the chance to pour lube on to his fingers. The anticipation on Richie’s face egged him to move faster, his own eagerness becoming evident.

As Mike poured out a generous amount of the slick liquid into his hand, Richie grabbed one of the extra pillows and tucked it under his lower back, propping himself up on display. Mike nearly salivated at the view, never quite having gotten used to seeing Richie spread out, no matter how many times they did this.

Mike brought his lubricated hand up to Richie’s hole, circling a finger around the puckered muscle, teasing Richie before slipping his digit inside smoothly.

They’d fooled around only a few hours ago, stopping on the side of the road on their drive to Mike’s farm and squeezing into the back seat. Mike had fucked Richie until he’d cried, fingers desperately grabbing at the seats around him for some kind of leverage to ground himself. Richie came all over his shirt, causing them to have to dig their suitcases out of the trunk and wrestle out a clean one for him to change into.

Richie was still deliciously stretched from their afternoon activities, letting Mike slip in a second finger after only a few moments.

“You’re so beautiful like this, laid out bare for me…” Mike praised Richie who was breathing heavily beneath him.

Richie didn’t answer, just pushed his hips towards Mike to get his fingers as deep as possible. Mike found Richie’s prostate and stroked it lightly, eliciting a gorgeous moan.

“You can be as loud as you want.” Mike said, rubbing Richie’s prostate a little harder. “No one will hear you out here.”

It came out as a promise, assurance that he’d get Richie to the point where he couldn’t stay silent even if he tried. It sent goosebumps down Richie’s body.

A third finger was added, the stretch familiar and gentle. Richie felt warm, both from Mike’s body heat and desire kindling inside. They continued like that for a few more minutes, Mike pumping his hand steadily, teasing Richie’s prostate every time he thrust upwards. It was tantalizing.

“Please, Mikey…” Richie pleaded when it finally got to be too much. Mike pulled his hand away, watching Richie’s hole flutter around nothing. It was so pretty he took a moment to lean down and kiss it. Richie gasped at the unexpected contact, grinding his hips down against Mike’s face. Mike indulged him, kissing it with dirty flicks of his tongue. When he pulled away his face shone with lube.

“I could spend all night eating you out,” Mike stated, grabbing the lube and squirting a little extra into his hand. “but right now, I’d rather do this.” He rubbed the excess lube across his cock, coating it generously before lining himself up with Richie’s hole. He wasted no time before pushing in, shivering as the tightness enveloped him.

“Fuuuuuck-” Richie groaned wantonly.

Mike bottomed out, shifting his gaze from where they were connected and following the planes of Richie’s torso until their eyes met. Richie had his lower lip tucked between his teeth, as if trying to hold himself back, but upon meeting Mike’s gaze he let it drop.

“I can’t wait to be your husband.” Richie said sincerely.

“Me neither.” Mike smile tenderly. “But I am glad I get to show you off as my fiancé for a while.”

They both laughed, the movement jostling Mike inside Richie and reminding them of their current situation.

Mike pulled out slowly before easing himself back in at the same pace. He kept that rhythm as he continued.

“Everyone’s going to be jealous I get to marry the most affectionate, effervescent, passionate man in the whole world.”

“I’m the one who’s lucky,” Richie panted out between slow thrusts. “Getting to marry the most open-minded, kind-hearted, and hottest guy in town.”

Mike let out a burst of laughter, letting his head drop to Richie’s chest as a blush rose to his cheeks.

“I’m farthest from the hottest. That would be-”

“You’re right, it’s definitely Bill.” Richie interrupted with a breathless giggle.

Mike drew his head back and gasped dramatically.

“I was going to say you but…” Mike pretended to contemplate it. “Yeah, Denbrough could get it.”

They shared a smile. Mike loved Richie's ability to make any moment playful, even moments when Mike was buried to the hilt within him. This charismatic man, with the imagination of a child and the whimsy to match.

Mike picked up his pace, spurred on by his adoration, set on making Richie feel as good as he possibly could. The mewls he got in response were encouraging, so he continued swiveling his hips and propelling himself deeper with every thrust.

“That feel good, baby?” Mike purred into Richie’s ear, nipping his earlobe before descending to his neck.

A litany of curses was all Richie could manage in response, feeling himself climbing towards his peak.

Soon, curses were being split up by warning attempts. “Mike- fuckfuckfuck- I’m almost- holy shit yes don’t stop- I’m going to- jesus fucking christ-”

Mike knew that he was hitting the perfect spot. He didn’t dare move, no matter how much his arms were quivering, or his legs threatened to give out. He pumped forward once, twice, three times, and then the empty field was being filled with a throaty scream.

Richie’s fingernails left crescent moons where they dug into Mike’s arms, holding on for his dear life as he felt the waves of pleasure nearly drown him.

The feeling of Richie clenching around his cock did him in. As Mike joined Richie in his climax, he forced himself to keep his eyes open, never wanting to miss a moment of watching Richie come undone. He was so beautiful; pale skin, tinted pink from exertion and nearly transparent under the moonlight, thickly rimmed glasses sitting askew on his face, cum spread across his chest and pooling into his bellybutton. He looked so fragile, so small underneath Mike’s hold. Vulnerable in a way only Mike would ever see him.

Eventually they both regained their composure along with their breath. Mike pulled out of Richie slowly, watching as his own fluid follow him out of the tight confine, leaking onto Richie’s thighs and the pillow below him. Mike wanted to clean it up, dive in with his mouth and get Richie to cum all over again, but he knew there would be time to do that later.

They did, after-all, have forever ahead of them.

[survivetashirojima]

Episode #4: “My move........ it approaches.........“ - Joanna

NOOOO JG. You will be missed ;-;. Sorry I didn't ally with you but like, following your trend of orgs, I couldn't risk this one having you go missing in the middle again which happened. The challenge sucks tho. I really wonder what the punishment for not doing it is. A lot of people are hella inactive so I'm assuming its to curb on that. Its really annoying tbh. I want a nice friendly game but most of the people don't talk and i'm sad. I came back to make new friends but its okay, I still got Madeleine and Joanna and others. *sigh so quiet...

Okay so, I am getting my goals Play the game with out my parents knowing-  it’s been over a week. They don’t know. Make moves, do shit- I am in 3 alliances and just successfully coronated my first vote. Don’t fail my classes- I’m only failing one it’s fine. And everyone is so nice! I love this cast so much!!! And JG just quit, ugh. I hope everything is okay, and he is okay!!

Oop, it’s been a minute since I’ve confessed. My bad. Not much has been happening but now I’m up to 3 alliances without doing much so I guess that’s good. There are people who are real quiet...I guess I am too, but I have people I trust

https://youtu.be/DmayBejZEqM

OKAY 1. I just won myself back into I Love Money, which was the ORG that I got eliminated from that drove me to steal that road sign LMAO anyway if that makes me more inactive I’m sorry ;-( I’m naturally bad at orgs so this twist of no tribes already puts me at a disadvantage 2. and now I’m one of the 6 people who can be eliminated which. Puts me on edge. UGH why am I on the bottom of this already. I’m gonna try to push for Kevin bc he’s a comp beast, that’s all I got

I DID IT I WON A THING I WON MY FIRST THING OH MY GOODDDDD I'M SO EXCITED TIME TO MAKE BIG MOVES

Pat and I are going to try and make a move tonight. We are deciding between Dylan or Andrew. I think Dylan is feeling super comfortable so I'm pushing for him. I'm excited to try and mix up this game. I think this is the round that things need to start happening, and I am going to do my best to make them start happening, and make them start happening exactly as I want them to. I want to become a mastermind in this game. An under the radar threat. I have won a single immunity, I can use Pat as a shield and as an ally and I can control this game behind my shield, because nobody will think of this little high school girl as a threat. Thats the hope at least. 

I thought Stephen was going to like want to work with me, but he is super hesitant about it. Currently trying to sway Timmy into voting for Dylan. Said that I heard Dylan and that I was leaning towards voting for him, he doesn't have to know that voting Dylan is my idea. Hopefully I can pull this thing off, a blindside under my belt won't be too bad. I told Kevin that I heard his name from Stephen (this is true btw), so hopefully Kevin will trust me more than he already does (or at least I think he trusts me). I got my work cut out for me if I am going to pull off this Dylan vote, but Pat and I are working hard at making sure this happens and I really hope that it is pulled off.

MY MOOOVVVVVVEEEE It's falling apart. I don't think I have the numbers and tribal is coming up. Brien might have to go I guess.

literally I’m probably going home LMAO I think I have people protecting me, but it’s probably me. So basically if this is my last confession: I love you all, and this is the lowest placement I’ve gotten in an ORG

So, developments. Cause I’m a messy bitch I’m making another alliance with kevin pat joanna and maybe others, the reasons for this are twofold. 1: more information. seeing how they talk and who they talk about will tell me a lot, and 2: i never wanted to put all my eggs in a kalokairi basket to begin with. Dylan barely talks to me, god knows what madeleines doing after that challenge, timmy is awesome but also very smart and knows me well. So this alliance provides me with other options, however, the risk is that if theres a majority alliance with someone from kalokairi and this new alliance they will know im being shady, and likely vote my ass out. But they may have been targetting me all along, who knows. At this point I might try and target brien, because he is in neither of my major alliances, but the new alliance is pretty sold on dylan so... who knows?

So, I’ve been busy. I am honestly out to get Madeline. Joanna is my main bitch. I am close with jay and brien as well. And me timmy and Madison have an old relationship. I feel good about working with them going forward. I love Kevin as well. I like vi. Everyone else is boring. But I’m like trying hard to get Dylan voted out first and be the crazy vote and save brien my Philly brother. This has been the craziest vote yet and you all have me and Joanna to thank for that. This whole individual immunity thing makes me feel so good.

*Screams into the void* THIS VOTE IS A FUCKING MESS so this is the Dylan Brien vote. (unless something else gets thrown in then I'm just fucked) so basically i was helping plan a good ol' Brien vote out. I had it all good. we had Majority, then I watch it crumble before my very eyes. first it seemed like Kevin wasn't with us, and then Stephen. so as far i know it is 45 minutes until tribal and we presumably have majority OR everyone is lying to me and dylan is going home. I just, this is a giant mess.I love it, but i also hate it. it is out first complicated vote. *Continues screaming into void*

Sorry I haven't confessed in a bit, I've definitely been INV the last few episodes lol. But anyways, get out of work and for the first time it really felt like I'm playing a game. People were FINALLY messaging me about an actual strategy and actual decision that needed to be made. Joanna filled me in that it's Dylan or Brien going tonight, and that she was leaning Dylan. At first I wanted to go for Brien instead, but I talked to Pat and he give me a whole list of people who are voting for Dylan. And TBH if no one is gonna give me an alternative, that's just what I'm gonna do. Besides, the only people who have talked to me today were on that list so those are the people I want to work with. Like Pat, Joanna, Madeleine, Kevin. But apparently this vote is split down the middle so?? I assume if it deadlocks that everyone immune won't have to draw a rock, so I really don't mind letting it tie. Though realistically anyone not immune is just gonna flip their vote to avoid it. Tho I'm really not worried about next round's tribal either. There are far bigger fish to fry in this game over me right now.

My move........ it approaches.........

So I'm desperately typing this 5 minutes before tribal AHH! So earlier on Pat told me Madeleine was voting with him. I messaged her like, 30 minutes ago, asking her what she was doing. And she just starts pushing real hard for me to keep Dylan. It was pretty much like I was her last hope in the world. TBH I'm not falling for the age-old Survivor trap of telling both sides I'm voting with them. If the vote doesn't go my way, it doesn't go my way. I can't be a wishy-washy player this early on in the game. It's way more likely for the majority to take revenge on the person in the middle than someone who was just a cog in the machine for the other side. Right now I just want to play the part of a loyal alliance member and get down to smaller numbers. I can't be seen as anywhere near responsible for the first game defining moment of the season. It's way way way too early.

CASUALTIES:

CAST ASSESSMENT:

PART 1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqzYsBDKxCc&list=PLB-4yJ0EHce-bxHQVmQVdrV6tx36_6Jly&index=9

PART 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqnaixVax30&list=PLB-4yJ0EHce-bxHQVmQVdrV6tx36_6Jly&index=10

PART 3: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2z-brIL5i0&list=PLB-4yJ0EHce-bxHQVmQVdrV6tx36_6Jly&index=11 

[autowrite]

Ardennes Trip Journal - 28.07.19 - 10.08.19

Day 1

23:15 The adventure continues. So much to say and only 14 minutes to do it in. The accommodation is pretty crappy. An old youth hostel converted into something..maybe not even converted. I arrived with 2 woman who couldn’t find their way here with a GPS. Right now I feel like I’ve let myself down a bit. I promised myself I would be authentic, I feel like Im hiding, crawling back into my shell. I promise myself that I will do what it takes to be authentic here, even if I don’t totally know what it means. I think it has to do with flow, carefree ness. There are a few girls here that I’m attracted to, one of them is the lady in charge of the volunteers. She doesn’t have a pretty face but she wears tight clothing and she has a nice body. I like tight clothing on a nice body. I feel like I underestimated the amount of work I’ll have to do here. It seems like mostly work with a bit of free time over. I would like to see more of the surroundings but I’m not sure what, I’m not even sure how curious I am to be honest. The meals are vegetarian and don’t seem to be enough, I have a feeling I won’t be able to fall asleep quickly because I’m kinda hungry. My mind has been hijacked by Mara. I keep thinking about having a little fling with Hanna. I gave her a hug earlier when we were alone in the bathroom. Damn, how did I manage that? The truth is I’m just using her. Lust is toxic, it’s toxic. But the pull toward her is strong. If I go down this road it will lead to another and then another and then another. It doesn’t stop until I put an end to it. Until I make the decision to not engage. The people that work here are rather nice. Bert and Wim and Carlos. There are very cute and friendly young little cats here. This evening I saw the mommy cat run into the garden, frantically lookin*for one of her young ones, and then she gave her a little mice she caught to  play with. It was so adorable. I would like to use my time here to also be able to relax and read and go for walks and bloom socially.

14:00 I’m on a train. It takes almost 4 hours to get there and the time is flying. I’ve read some google reviews of the place and a lot of people say the inside looks kind of shitty and that the food is too vegan. Mixed responses. But then they also say it’s isurroinded by beautiful nature in the middle of nowhere, I’m curious about that! I think it’s going to be pretty cool. I’m tried right now, I need some sleep. I hope I get along with my colleagues, I hope that I can flip the switch and be open, spontaneous and helpful. Wild, adventurous, authentic. Funny af.  I guess all I’m looking for is a nice place to wake up in, with fresh air, some structure, a place to read and relax, a place to push myself a little in terms of social interactions! I’m glad I thought of journaling, I’ll write in this thing every day. They say that phones and WiFi doesn’t park very well there, not sire of this is a good or bad thing but I’m leaning more to it being a good thing. I’m a little worried that I’ll be my usual, rather serious, seldom-able-to-genuinely-smile self, that I’ll close up and all my (perfectly acceptable and even good) ideas will remain ideas in my head, that I might not have the courage to act on ‘em? Maybe? Perhaps? We’ll see. I got a lot of books with me, I’m happy about that. They have a piano there, playing piano is a very meditative practice (even kinda spiritual). I’m also a tad concerned that everyone will be ‘nice’ in an annoying way, like super-friendly, heart-on-their-sleeves millennials there to confront me with how old and uptight I am :-) I’m actually just a big kid inside, but showing that side takes a lot of guts, requires a lot of freedom (giving myself permission to be free), requires a certain amount of trust ofcourse. But I want just that. Carefreeism. Feeling the fear and doing it anyway. Ain’t no one, NO one going to give you permission to put on that hat, that’s a decision you make on your own..Writing this I feel a bit like the main character from a Michael hollebeqs ‘Whatever’. A guy who’s very aware of everything, has a fair amount of emotional intelligence, but is a little dead inside. Desperately in need of using his imagination, spontaneity. Fuck it i don’t want that! I reckon the people there will be hippy types with loose, comfortable clothing. Some dreadlock types that I will kind of look down on but they’ll be too busy living there lives (like I should be doing) to care. Fuck, when did this become a novel? I’m writing this as though someone is going to read it, someone like Lisa and I’m trying my best to be all insightful and clevah. Fuck that, this is my journal and I’ll be as daft and incoherent as I want. Meanwhile small Wallonian towns zip past me under overcast weather from this train. This little spot here is my comfort zone but also a creative abs therapeutic space. Fuck this train announce speak is loud and just above me. I’m hungry. I’m concerned abou this strict vegan policy they have there, that I’ll be hungry all the time, and won’t be able to sleep. I’m enthusiastic about apply Radical Acceptance techniques to this experience. To take the time to recognise how I feel, to ‘paise’ and offer myself some compassion perhaps. It’s okay, whatever happens: it’s okay. Showing up as you is ok. Feeling afraid and unsafe is okay. Being jouuous and free is okay. Doing you is ok. Not doing you is ok. Not having a good time is ok. You’re ok. I DON’T want to use this journal as a place to hide. A place to observe the world on the other side of some glass. Day 2

9:50 I slept ok, not great. The beds were ok. I have 10 minutes to write this and it all feels a bit rushed. I got laundry to do coz my shit is filthy. The weather is really nice and there is a really pretty courtyard with flowers and birds and little cats. Breakfast was pretty good, lots of oatmeal and things to choose from. I’m really bummed abiut the fact that our shifts here are split up in 2, through out the day, making it hard to leave the premise. I’m sitting here in the kitchen and there’s a world out there that I’d like to discover. The water for the shower is warm as opposed to hot. I’m tired but I’m so used to it that I hardly notice it anymore. I don’t feel much like talking, and others seem to want to talk. I don’t mind that much I guess, but I also want to not feel obligated to chat. But when I’m on my own i also feel a bit restless. I’m bothered by the stains on my shorts which look a bit gross. Worried that ill be limited to only the kitchen and the immediate surroundings while I’m here. The ‘sugar’ I put in my coffee is unrefined and tastes kind of gross. I have a feeling I’m going to get annoyed by the work here. I came here to work but also enjoy the surroundings. Damn. 22:30 I’m super tired right now, o feel o should have gotten more rest. They make us work a lot over here, it’s testing my laziness. I went for a walk and it was quite nice. I’m giving this experience a 6 out of 10 so far. I feel like a kid at times. I saw a horse that was blind in one eye, I stroked his face and his hit vs,r off on my finger. He seemed very ol and quite sad. I would have done more for him if I knew what he wanted. I have this feeling that I’m missing something. This afternoon I sat in front of the piano and I could lose myself in the notes. It was meditativive and restorative. It felt like something spiritual, I enjoyed it. I, tore, did I mention I was tired. I also feel a bit floppy and like...not a whole person. I’m worried that I’ll be stuck in arrested development forever, I feel so immature at times. I know that reliving the pain would fix it all but you can’t force these kind of things. Anyway, the weather is good, the people are nice and I’m happy to call it a night. I feel like I can do a lot more though.

Day 3 

22:50 I woke up today in a really bad mood. Not enough sleep, bad sleep. We eat vegan food here all day long, maybe that’s effecting it. I have quite a lot of wind, but that’s ok. I worked today, it’s 5 or 6 hours but it feels like all day. I’m happy to be here. I socialise all day too, and it’s fine. Sometimes not fine, sometimes I’m gripped with self-consciousness every time I open my damn mouth. Sometimes it feels like every single interaction is awkward, I know what is required is to let go but I probably put too much  pressure into it. Letting go is actaully effortless really, want an idea.  Anyway, I ended things with Katya today and i think this is for the best. I’m smoking too much and I think it’s for the best. I think about Carlos quite a bit, he’s quite a special dude. And Wim is leaving tomorrow and I’m sorry about that, I’m gonna miss him a little. His brother Bert is a nice guy, such an open and friendly person, with a big heart. I find it hard to make eye contact with himi, in a way. The ladies love him. Speaking of ladies I went with a walk with Hanne and I made tons of moves to the point she felt uncomfortable. When I returned I felt guilty and empty. I’d like to relax more here. I’m looking into doing something similar to this in a place with an ocean. This whole experience has been good. The work grounds me, puts things into perspective, but I have to admit I was expecting something a little better than this. I now know that my idea of farming or working in this way was merely a romantic one. Actually I want to be around creative people. People like me who want to make things, get lost in things, I’m just not yet sure what that ‘thing’ is.

Day 4 

22:40 Sitting here in the back of my corvette. Sitting here in the mountains of Spain, not claiming to know anything anymore. And so the journey begins.. Day 4. I keep asking Hanne for hugs. I worked in the garden today, I wasnt feeling it very much at  all. But I should be greatful, my teenage years were really tough, said the talk show host. I’m greatly out of touch with my center today, I could meditate on this though, embrace it, use it, it feels good to be alone. 12 minutes every single day. I’m waiting for the American cook. Hanna is leaving tomorrow for holiday in Schotland, I feel sad abiut that. And Wim left today. It was really nice getting to know him. He told me a lot about his travelling through South America. He’s got this crazy look in his eyes, he looks a bit like he took some bad acid, he also looks like someone who might be an alcoholic. I feel like I’m not capable of getting close to anyone at times, and they can sense it. I want to though, maybe they don’t notice it. Hanne is a work horse, but obviously has her own issues. She is cute though. Jeff is also cool of course. I feel like I scare people. I got a nice compliment from Carlos who said I should do stand up comedy. Where the heck is Lorenzo at? He said that to me 2 once. I get my energy by losing myself in creativity, making jokes. I get my creativity from a lot of things. Right now I’m in bed, nothing to be said. Right now I live like there’s a tomorrow, a red car racing. Like MJ and codependency. I called Lisa, she sounded enthusiastic and happy to hear from me. Latisha is doing well and is her cute self, miss her. I saw someone take one of the little cats away today and I cried just a little. I’m sure she  will be loved in her new home.

Day 5

21:50 Day 5 in Orval. I like it here, it’s peaceful. The grass is green, the birds sing and there’s cats around. I worked in the kitchen today and then then the garden. Enough to fill the day and I’m tired and ready for bed. Hanna left for Schotland today, I fooled around with her in her bedroom, but she held me at bay and I wasn’t interested in treating her like a sex object. She’s sweet and deserves a lot better. Carols was up to his usual tricks, conspiracy theories and what not. We found out today that I weigh twice as much as him. I’m actually gaining weight here, crazy. I’m saving money while being here, and doing the right thing. One of my goals being here is to show up authentically every single day. I’m kind of doing that, but sometimes I’m not sure what that means. I think it involves using my body. My work ethic has become a bit of a joke, I’m the guy that breaks away from the kitchen to play piano, it has crossed my mind that I like it when people are talking about me, even f it’s negative, even if it’s laughing. I think i night want constant reassurance, but deep down I want something more real than that, you know? Meditate on that. I’m not meditating, but enough about me. Wim is returning tomorrow, that’s cool. Not sure if I have a half day off tomorrow or not. The good is great. I haven’t eaten a single animal product in 5 days. I feel fine, I don’t feel amazing though, like the early days of changing my diet. Worked with Jeff in the garden, the sun was shining real pretty like, I posed as a Mexican drug cartel worker, it was silly. I thought I lost my kindle, but I didn’t.  I want to make plans to go on more walks, do some excercise, get up early. I would like to make kale smoothies too. I had an amazing insigh today, often when people talk to me, I feel a lot of tightening up around the heart. Construction of the heart. It’s clear in a way. That’s when I decide to relax and look the person right in the eye, and I feel the wall, the constricting melt a little. Other times I feel the opposite way, other times I feel my heart opening up, and I feel love and I honestly feel like giving the people around me a big big. There are people here that have stayed for 5 months. You can save money by being here. Don’t got back to Hurtsville. Your time here is good.

Day 6 

23:10 Day 6 in bold. They make us work too much over here. I did some weeding today, fuck, never doing that again. I lasted an entire hour. I think I’d lose my mind if I were a farmer, I need people too much. Need em to reassure me, tell me I’m alive. It’s been a long day, we work about 32 hours/week here. That’s almost a full time job, what a crappy candle. The highlight of my day might have been my meditation. Sitting under a tree with a horsefly that I killed,  it very Buddha like. The meditation helped me become more grounded. Later I went on Facebook. What the help are we doing with our lives? My her is Conan, what a silly name. How does this guy come up with so many jokes, he’s so damn funny. ‘My riff-gun was jammed’ Patton Oswald. I need a plan or a goal while I’m here. I’m stuck on this island and I’m not alone. More walks please, more excercise. Wim returned and that’s cool.

Day 7

22:40 Carlos the little monkey with the conspiracy theories. I’m getting back into using my phone again, and a little bit of porn too. It was very tiring day today. Wim and I went for a walk, we went to the abdij where Orval beer is made but we didn’t go in. We got personal, talked about heavy, personal stuff. I can’t say that it did much for me. I still feel like a sense of self, or bottom or ground is missing, and that’s ok, that’s just the kind of guy I am. We worked a lot and I felt so lazy, so tired. We are working something like 35 hours a week. I haven’t worked this much in a long time, it’s more work than I expected obviously. The weather was good, new groups have arrived and I find myself eyeing the ladies. I make a lot of jokes and everyone laughs at them it’s almost too easy. Acceptance. Nature. Hide away, dancing. 5 rhythm dancing. Dance to Maastricht. I don’t know, I don’t know. I don’t know. Bert used to live in Costa Rica. He’s so at ease with himself it’s crazy. He says it’s all about being in the body, and dancing and yoga and some meditation. Wim must feel overshadowed a little, I still really enjoy playing the piano, I still feel the need to be an entertainer or performer of some kind. Do your best forget the rest, thanks for coming.

Day 8

00:15 Im beat, what a day. I feel tired and immature. The asshole social worker. We cleaned today, the entire kitchen. It was a time of laziness, and work and seriousness. I, getting fatter over here. The American cook showed up. And a very young couple. And the bosss and his hens. The American cook is called Mark or Marc and he comes acrosss like a healthy and capable man with an eye for the ladies. His wife or girlfriend also seems nice. I met a very nice girl today called Sophie, me and Wim had a drink with her. It’s good to be here, good to be in the real world. On Tuesday I get my day off, I guess the only thing I’m planning to do is rest. Wim and I are getting closer, lots of laughs and stuff. I feel small and inadequate right now and it’s uncomfortable, but I’ll breathe into it, accept it,  have it down the whole. I think you can do a lot with it but maybe never fully get used to it. Or something? I coughed a lot, I have a slight hangover now. I’m still impressed with this Sophie girl I just met. She seems so nice. I feel fat. Stick to your principals.

Day 9 

00:05 Camp fire singing. I should count my blessings. I feel a bit like a coward but I guess I should be proud that I sang. I lost my center, but that’s ok, everything is ok. Lots of laughs with Wim, I’m going to miss that dude. Staring at Melissa’s legs a lot. Cooking in the kitchen, with Mark and his pleasant wife. Mark is not a Buddhist, but he respects them. I felt intense shame while trying my best to play guitar. I want to frame it differently though, I want to quantify it coz I want to pass through it. Pass through the eye of the storm, it’s so nice on the other side, I’m sure of it. Sophie is so nice, I haven’t met a girl that nice in a while. Feels like I keep holding back, but beating myself up over it doesn’t make it better, doesn’t change anything. I woke up late and missed most of breakfast. I was in a lousy mood. Wim offered to do my dishes. There are so many people here, it’s non-stop interaction, at times it gets a bit much. I took a nap today and passed out almost immediately. I feel embarrassed by my weight. A new volunteer arrived in heels. Katy the 19 year old girl stood very close to me when i did something on my phone. Marks music is a bit boring in the kitchen. Wim and I shared many laughs, he’s a good guy. He cracks me up, I’m lucky to have him here. It’s good to be random, it’s good to not make sense, it’s a way to shake it all off. Inside of me is a child that wants to be let out. It wants light and air and to be seen, but he doesn’t feel safe. He’s embarrassed and ashamed and doesn’t feel good enough, but it’s the closest to something real I’ll ever feel. Jeff is a really nice, sincere, honest dude. I like him. But I gotto be real, if I don’t care I don’t care. Life I can be tough, so confusing at times. But I’m here, I’m doing this, I’m a alive, I laugh a lot, I accept.

Day 10

23:15 The skies were gray today. Wim left for the second time and he took Thomas with him. I was having a bad day until I took a nap and did some journaling. I walked down the road by myself and sat some of the crappy but charming neighbourhood housing. I’m eating less and less and I feel great right now. All this vegan food, no meat for almost 2 weeks. I feel looser today, happy to be around Wim and Jeff, happy to talk bullshit, more in a flow. Out there the air is thick with rain air, and tents are scattered across the grass bellow me. Mark is a nice guy but I notice we all get a bit more serious when he’s around us. It’s interesting to note that. I’ve been travelling with my dick in my pocket, I made a move on one of the girls here and I plan on subtly making moves on Katy, or whatever her name is, which is kind of gross of me. I should be ashamed of myself.. but enough about me, I was just following my dick. It feels good to be here though, I’m going to miss it. I’m glad I met Wim and plan to see him when I get back to Antwerp to talk more bullshit, etc etc. ALl these interactions can get a bit much. Melissa is so serious. The energy is good here.

Day 11

00:50 Nothings wrong I don’t get it. Hootchie girl, tease, this is. It going as planned. I strummed my guitar like a beast, leaflets on the floor. Better tomorrow. This is silly. This is silly, I care and I don’t care because I do t know what the heck I’m doing. I just want to stand for something in life. That’s all she said, the importance of being strong and saying something. I’m welcome back anytime. The bird is here, on the roof, performing for god knows who. Unable to break through, because no one ever gave him permission to. That’s sad but dead, gotto get the scream out of my system. I’m glad for you but not excited, we want the same things only different. Artists inside,  but vague in what we want. You’re tall, I’m tall, let’s make babies, let’s quit smoking. I lied to you actually. I’m not hurt, not going in some direction. Taking the piles a day at a time. William Prine, bathroom break. Big butt girl called Anoek, soft eyes, another girl under my belt, I feel gross about it , leaning into the fear is like leaning into the sun. we sat around a fire today, we played songs. Sophie leaned against me until our backs became uncomfortable. The smoke in my hair, the smoke in all of ours. I tried to be brave, I was brave, I sang the best I could. Now is not the time, my defence mechanism is cunning and baffling, I relate to it. I would rather have nothing that be a shaky leaf trying to ‘score’, I feel embarrassed and ashamed and I seek re-assurance. It’s ok toadman, see you at the breakfast table. DAY 13

4:00 I don’t understand what happened. Caily contacted me and told me she was raped by Mark. The American cook I liked. I don’t understand. I don’t feel much, just inklings of some confusion. I’m unable to let this idea sink in property. Raped?? Mark the guy I spent 5 days with raped a 19 year old girl?? Threatened her with a knife?? I don’t understand, this doesn’t compute with me. Caily is a wonderful person, sweet, real, authentic. She contacted me, we chatted for hours. I hope she’s ok, even though I don’t know what to feel. I tired to just keep her company, be there for her. I’m trying to think what I would do if I saw him. He might have ruined a 19 year old girls life.. she’s numb right now and traumatised. This is the world we live in. People who are innocent and real get preyed on by predators it seems. They have their innocence taken away. Caily is one of the most innocent and authentic girls I’ve ever met. So incredibly naive in a way. This man preyed on that if this really happened. I hope she’s ok. I hope she’s able to live fully again. I hope she’s able to process all this, to trust again.

Day 14 conclusions and shit

T’was a perfectly imperfect trip. The conclusion rests in the balance of: I had a really enjoyable time, I’m glad that I went there. As I sit in black shorts and shoes with holes in them on a bench in Antwerp, Orval seems pretty far away already. But it’s cool. I’m not yet sure what to  make about the ending though. A girl might have been raped. I think she was raped because she’s at the police right now. On the last day we did a big clean of the kitchen, the 2nd one during my stay. Sofie was with is helping in the kitchen, chopping onions and doing a splendid job. I was tired from the night before, the third night of building a camp fire and playing sharades and some songs. We gathered the fire wood ourselves, firewood that spat and crackled and carried a few ticks. Caily was with us. We had so much fun. And Jef. Oh how I remeber that night, it was like it was yesterday, or the day before yesterday, which it was. A little sprinkler water to cool us off, we dragged Melissa through the snow, coughing and spitting and giggling like a happy school child. We did good and we did her good

[cunt-captain-69]

so im gonna be posting various updates on this story that i’m gonna finish writing - heres the first part hope u enjoy friends

The resounding smack of the shoe against her head taunted the girl as she ran, stumbling over stones and shit, trying to find her way back to the rooftops she was sleeping on recently. Her cheek, pink and swollen, stung fiercely, a small welt appearing. Gods, who would have thought an old lady had such a strong arm, and would beat a girl looking for a scrap to eat. Hag. Pilfering food from a market stall really wasn’t that bad, in the scheme of the world. Her feet were bare, slapping against the rough roads of the town, blood spotting some of the larger rocks as she passed over them. Her hair, dyed a ruddy red colour to match her blood, flew freely behind her, the unwashed state of it obvious, the leaves and twigs in it seeming like emblems of her pride at having survived in the rough, tough lands of Avalon.

 Rounding the corner, the townspeople hurling insults at her, she heard the guards. Shit. They were chasing behind her, the loud clanks of their bouncing armour echoing in the narrow streets. Her breath coming in short, fast pants, she flew down the streets, before running straight into a market stall, having been distracted looking over her shoulder. An ageless man held her still, waiting for the guards to catch up to her, and take her to the castle dungeons. A few tense minutes later, after having scratched and bit at the man in an attempt to gain her freedom back, the guards came into view, the rotund one with the pink skin was now absolutely flushed with heat, his moustache wobbling and brimmed with sweat from the exertion. Pig.

 Shackled and on the back of the youngest guard’s horse was how she would enter the Keep. Great. After having her arm nearly yanked from its socket in order to get her from the horse, she was half-walked half-dragged into the Guard’s tower. This was really bad. Stumbling through the door after a push from the overly-sweaty, fat, balding guard, she glanced around the room she was brought into. A single desk sat on one side, lit by huge glass windows, and with various bookshelves and ornaments gracing the space in the room. A large man sat facing her, looking pensively out at her captors. “Why, in God’s name, was I called here to attend to a young thief? Don’t we have protocols for a reason?” He snapped, earning a jump from the youngest guard, his mousy brown eyes flitting about the room.

 With middle-length black hair, tan skin, and a scar cresting his left eye and brow bone, the man cut an impressive figure. “How old are you, girl?” He inquired, standing up to face her. With her voice splitting, her skin losing its sunned colour, she mumbles “Eleven years, give or take.” He nodded, his mouth setting into a grim line as he grabbed her arm, striding from the room and dragging her along too.  Once outside, he led her down a maze of narrow corridors, his grip on her arm leaving a small red mark. After roughly five minutes of being led around, she spoke up, “Where are we goin?” she asked in a quietened voice, still afraid of him, and her situation.

[nastyfunkydancer-blog]

Today the universe did it again, I must say it has proper upped the game. Putting it politely, I had a proper “mente mierda” .

It went well beyond jut destabilizing my well grounded and established beliefs about the nature of reality. Today for what seemed like a long time , but was actually a split second, I was in some surreal nightmare. My brain could not grasp what was happening.

Normally in “iffy” situations I can often suss out an exit strategy, or a reason that makes sense of what is occurring .

In strange, surreal , or dangerous situations my brain gets a shot of super octave epinephrine hormone neurotransmitting agent , and it becomes a super brain and it enters a “race state” .And time actually seems to slow down.

In the right situation, under certain “trigger” conditions my body will give my brain a shot of super octave epinephrine.

The result is my thinking speeds up to an incredible speed that it is far to quick for me to follow in a cognizant way. As a boy I called it my Quickening, hahaha

My thought process runs all over the place “here there and every where” looking for an answer, a way out, a contingency

. First trying one possible route, then another.

OOOH , this all reminds me of something that happened many years ago , Yes there are definite parallels to the two events , the quickening and the betrayal. So I going to digress as per usual .

1976 a very hot summer, I had left school, as was enjoying the summer with no intention of seeking work. Most Friday’s we would go to the Spread Eagle pub in Doncaster town centre for some underage drinking.

After the pub closed three of us, Westy, Johno and myself decided to go to Wakefield to the Northern Soul AllNiter . We were all very drunk and had missed the bus.

Johno decided to steal a car to take us the 20 miles or so. He disappeared and sometime later pulled up at the wheel of Ford transit van. Johno drove, Westy sat in the middle and I sat at the passenger window.

We headed for Wakefield.

We decided to take the back roads, to avoid any police cars. After a while we spotted another transit van in front of us.

As we tried to over take it, our offside wing mirror scraped down the side of the other van, and took our wing mirror off.

I assumed that we had also taken the other van’s driver’s side wing mirror off too.

The other van began to pursue us. We tried to loose it, tried to escape. Johno’s driving was erratic and quit dangerous, going up curbs, near missing lampposts etc.

I thought that we would crash.

‘Stop the van’ I said ‘There are three of us, we will just drop the guy . If there is any trouble.’

We pulled the van over and Johno switched the engine off.

The pursuing Transit swerved in front of us.

The double doors burst open and, what I assumed was half of Wakefield Trinity Rugby Club poured out of the rear doors and ran towards us.

As six burly men came towards us.

My brain started to “race state” everything slowed down, as all the possible endings, all contingencies etc , ran through my head.

They ran over to our driver’s side.

The lead thug opened the driver’s door and grabbed Johno by the hair. He dragged Johno from the seat, and kicked him in the head. A few others joined in.

My brain had sussed it out, Johno was going to get his head kicked in, we were outnumbered and well outgunned.

Westy would be the next to face street justice, and unless one of them opened my door , I would be the last.

I thought last would be worst.

The lead guy turned his attention to Westy and me.

These were big thuggery thugs, we were just weedy teenagers. He looked at us, anger cringing his bearded face.

‘Come on then, where is his fuc**ng support?’ he screamed.

‘Oh, thank you’ I said.

‘Thank you, we have just hitched a lift from this guy about twenty minutes ago, and he went crazy on us . We thought we were going to be killed’

At that moment a young woman appeared,

‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

After we had informed her, she gave us some directions.

We quickly got out of the van, walked around the bend in the road, then ran into a field and hid.

Westy began hugging me saying ‘How on earth did you think of that?’

‘I don’t know; it just came ‘I replied . The quickening had saved us from getting a beating , but there was the betrayal involved . “the quickening and the betrayal”

We had disowned our friend in an act of betrayal

We spent the night in a field, and walked back to Doncaster the next morning.

When we saw Johno later that day his face was black and blue. ‘Sorry about that Johno’ I said.

‘But there was no point in all of us getting a kicking was there?’ I laughed.

My race state saved me, I had no idea of how to get out of the situation , till I heard my voice saying what I said.

When my brain goes into this race state ( I call it my race state, because of the speed at which it works .

My race state is probably the normal speed of an average persons brain haha)

Surprisingly my Race State Brain usually arrives at a solution with plenty of spare time to execute the escape plan.

Returning to the event of happened today.

Today, as the universe threw me a curve ball. And, reality for a spit second broke down and entered a cartoon world.

My brain entered a race state, and after doing its “here there and everywhere “ thing. It could only come up with “ You are proper Fuc**d .

It freeking left me to it, “the quickening and the betrayal”

Betrayed by my own brain.

Today reality had an hiccup .

I work in Private Education, it is probably the best job I have ever had.

The place I work is on the third floor of an old Mill. The Mill is huge, I mean proper big. Proper proper big in fact.

To get to the third floor . You can take the stairs (tried that once. It aint happening again , I can tell you)

or you can use the lift.

The lift is brilliant , its one of those old style ones (see photo) You have to look through the little window to see if it has arrived.

Once you have confirmed arrival, Then you can open the shaft door, this has to be done manually. Followed by pulling the lift door open.

You have to close the Shaft door behind you before closing the lift door.

Once that ritual is complete you can select the floor required. But you have to look through the little window to make sure it has aligned with the window of shaft door on the floor you are stopping at.

I really do enjoy the lift, it rattles and shakes and shudders, It unnerves some of the younger students. Which always gives me the opportunity to say something like

“If tha think this is bad lad, you woulda papped ya sen in t’pit cage”

Adding “ If tha was ever on a bouncer tha bollocksbe in tha gob tha knows”

I use the lift about 5 times a day,

I enjoy being in it on my own, because I like to look through the little window.

Today I went out for a smoke break, pushed the button , looked through the window for the lift to arrive.

It shuddered to a halt. I open the shaft door, followed by the lift door, reversed the door routine , pressed G , then looked through the window going down .

Once I had alighted, I went outside for a ciggie. There were a couple of students already outside, we exchanged pleasantries. After my nicotine fix , I said “ see you later lads”

When I arrived at the lift, I looked through the little window, and was pleased to see it had not been summoned and was still on the ground floor.

I opened the shaft door, I then slid the lift door open and entered. As I entrée the lift I closed the shaft door , I turned and pulled the lift door shut.

I pressed 3 on the panel.

Looked through the window.

I was expecting the lift to go up , ( Why would I not ?) Up is what you would expect , there is no basement.

The whole of reality went all cartoon like.

I was looking through the window expecting to go up

It went freekin sideways .

( At that moment I entered race state and time slowed down)

My brain repeated what my eyes and strangely my body too had seen and experienced

“ Im moving effing sideways.”

My brain raced,

“It had to be a tv prank”

“Why has it not crashed through the wall?”

“If the wall has somehow ceased to exist” my brain ran on

“it has to be something unnatural , supernatural”

“I’m being abducted by aliens” my brain circled around this, “ I’m gonna be probed up my jacksy”

“ No I don’t think so, it not an alien abduction, I’m some how going through an inter-dimensional stargate,

I’m in bed at home this is a dream? NO IT’S A EFFING NIGHTMARE.

My brain had exhausted its race state, and was now looking for an out for itself, It deserted me. It went to a nice place, I had been betrayed.

I was just about to start to cry, and scream like a girl . When the lift door was slid open, and the two students entered the lift.

“relative motion “ I said aloud.

I had seen the shaft door slide open, immediately after pressing my floor button,

I experienced what we all have at some time,

When sat on a train, and the train out the window moves, You experience the sensation that the train you on is moving.

I truly thought that the lift was moving sideways

“relative motion” I said half laughing

“Pardon” asked one of the students.

I replied “ “ I need another smoke, and I got out of the lift”

Proper proper strange, and best “mente mierda” I have had for years.

THE QUICKENING AND THE BETRAYAL Today the universe did it again, I must say it has proper upped the game. Putting it politely, I had a proper “mente mierda” .