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flowery-mess · 2 days ago

Text

crossing the wrong line

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / alcohol / mentions of drugs / getting drugged by a stranger / unwanted physical touch (hand on waist, grabbing a wrist) / physical violence / blood / throwing up / please let me know if I should tag anything else or change something in the story!

Words: 3,4k

‼️ Author's note: Please take a moment to consider whether this story is something you wish to read. The choice to engage with this content is entirely yours, and I am not responsible for what you choose to read on the internet. By proceeding, you acknowledge that the decision is your own, and I waive any responsibility for your choice to continue.

Especially with this chapter a reminder: This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person.

frat boy Noah masterlist

"Are you leaving with Noah tonight, again?” Molly asked, not even trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.

“Stop it Molly.” Clara shushed her. Molly hated what you had with Noah from the beginning and Clara didn’t really care. She said she’s happy if you’re happy, so until Noah hurts you, she won't judge what you two have.

“You know, if you gave him a chance and maybe talked to him for a minute you'd find out he's not that terrible and then maybe he could tell his friend that you stare at everyday about you.” you snapped back, not wanting to be rude, but she was eyeing one of Noah’s friends for a while now, so you just wanted her to know that you’re not the only one interested in a frat boy.

“I’m not staring!”

“Oh you are.” Clara joined the conversation again, scrolling through her phone, but stating the obvious facts.

Molly didn’t have anything more to say, probably feeling a bit embarrassed that she didn’t hide her crush as well as she thought.

“Let’s go so we’re not late.” Clara pushed you both out of the door, tired from this conversation that was repeating every week before you went out.

-------

Tonight’s party was different, bigger. It was the 60th anniversary of the fraternity Noah was a part of and they went big.

Gallons of alcohol, 6 beer pong tables, uncountable number of red plastic cups and matching t-shirts.

“I swear these fraternity boys are weirdos.” Molly mumbled under her breath as their big shared house came into your view. You had to agree, most of the guys were maybe too much invested in being “brothers” it was creepy. But then there was Noah and his friends, who you wouldn’t guess were part of this fraternity thing. When you asked Noah why he was part of it, he just said that some of the boys wanted to be part of it and the rest just went with it.

You decided to stay outside at their front yard, because the house was full of people and you wanted to be able to breathe fresh air. Clara grabbed the first drinks she could for all three of you, her anxiety getting the best of her – she chugged the whole drink in a second and went to grab another one.

“Well, that’s going to be interesting.” Molly was watching Clara with shock in her eyes, knowing very well that if you leave with Noah, it’s gonna be just her who’s going to have to take Clara back to the dorm.

You found some of your classmates and chatted with them for a bit, then you went inside to find a bathroom to have a minute for yourself.

When you were walking down the stairs you scanned the inside of the big house, looking for Noah. You saw some of his friends, but not him. Maybe he’s not here yet, or maybe he’s not coming tonight at all.

You were fascinated by the number of strangers, wondering where they came from.

Your thoughts were shut of by group of frat boys chanting their pledge next to the stairs and you decided it was time to go outside again.

You didn’t find Molly and Clara where you left them, not that it surprised you. You checked your phone to see if either of them thought that texting you where they went was good idea, but you didn’t see any new notifications.

You started looking for them on your own, occasionally stopping some of the people you knew to ask if they haven’t seen them. No one helped you, until Tim from your English class said he saw them at the bonfire with some guys.

“What guys?”

“I don’t know Ella, but that’s where I saw them like a minute ago.” Tim looked like he’d rather be anywhere else the at this party and honestly you didn’t blame him.

“Okay Tim, thanks.” you gave him a little wave and started walking in the direction of the bonfire.

You expected to see Molly and Clara with some boys from school, but you didn’t know any of the faces your friends were surrounded with.

When drunk Clara spotted you, she stood up and almost fell into your arms.

“Hey guys, this is Ella!” she yelled at them, her finger pointing at you. Suddenly four pairs of eyes were looking at you, one of them being Molly.

“Oh finally,” one of the boys stood up and started walking towards you and Clara, who was holding onto you for her dear life. “I’m Josh, nice to meet you.” He shot you a smile with perfect white teeth.

“Hi, I’m Ella.” you shook his hand, he took the chance to grab it and lead you to sit next to him.

You were still very confused why you were hanging out with those boys and why did Josh looked really happy to see you finally come to meet them.

“So, who are you guys?” you asked them, trying to give Molly a ‘what the hell?’ look, but she looked like she lost herself in Justin’s eyes. Justin was the boy next to Molly and Samuel was the third guy by Clara's side. If anyone who didn’t know you would see you like this, they could’ve thought you’re three happy couples hanging out in the backyard.

“We’re not from here, we were invited by some of our friends to this party.” Samuel said some names of boys from the fraternity which you didn’t know, so you just nodded and sipped your drink, cursing yourself for not getting something stronger than prosecco.

“So, you’re Ella.” Josh turned his attention fully to you, his eyes scanning your whole body.

“That I am.” you shrugged down the weird feeling from his gaze and tried to give him a polite smile.

“What’s your major?”

“Neuropsychology.” At which Josh started laughing, “What’s funny about neuropsychology?”

“Oh sorry, nothing. Just seems like all of the girls are into psychology these days.”

“What’s your major?”

“Structural engineering. Really perspective direction. My dad has a company so I already have a job secured there. I’m gonna take over the company in the future.” Josh said with a proud smirk.

“And that should impress me?” before he could give you an answer you didn’t even want to hear, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. “Sorry.” you excused yourself and moved a bit away from Josh to make some space for yourself.

“I’m late for once and you already found someone else? Ouch.” from Noah. You knew he was joking, before answering his text you looked around to find him, but you didn’t have any luck.

“I think Josh is going to make me promise I’ll be his assistant when he’s CEO of daddy’s company. Help me.” you sent back, only then noticing that Josh was talking to you again.

“Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” you noticed how Josh closed the gap between you two, “What did you ask?”

“I asked if you live around here?”

“Yeah, pretty close.” you really didn’t feel like sharing your address with Josh. He just nodded, took a sip from his beer and then looked at Molly and Clara who were probably genuinely interested in his friends.

“Are your friends single? Looks like they get along, maybe we’re looking at future couples.”

“Yeah well, maybe. Hard to tell when Clara is drunk as hell.” you were worried for her, she was a light weigh and she already looked like she had enough. “I think I’m gonna grab myself another drink and water for Clara.”

Before you had the chance to stand up Josh grabbed your hand. You flinched at his touch, slipping your hand away from his. You liked your personal space and Josh was still a stranger, so he shouldn’t be touching you.

“I can grab it for both of you.” he offered.

“No that’s fine, I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

“I can go with you, hold the drinks.”

“Thanks Josh, but I can handle it myself.” and before he could speak up again you left.

For the first time that night you felt grateful for the full house, it gave you comfortable feeling of anonymity and Josh smaller chance to find you.

When you were moving around the kitchen, bottle of water for Clara already waiting for you at the counter, Noah entered the room.

“Hey stranger.” he greeted you with one of his smiles, his mood happier than usual.

“What’s gotten you into this happy mood, Mr. I’m late for once?”

“I don’t know, can’t I have a good day?” Noah shrugged his shoulders, arms crossed on his chest.

He was wearing black shorts and basic white t-shirt, his hair framing his face and his eyes set on you. You found him attractive, of course, but when he was smiley like this, he was adorable.

“You’re cute.”

“What?”

“You’re cute when you’re happy like this, even though is suspicious.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know, you’re not usually this happy.” you mixed your drink between talking to him, “but I like it.”

There was a silence for a minute, before Noah spoke again. “So, who’s your new boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes at his question. “I left Clara and Molly for a second and when I found them they already had a company. Josh is not good conversation buddy, but I can’t leave them alone. Clara is done, she needs water.”

“Who are they? I haven’t seen them around.”

“Yeah, they’re not from here, but they said some of the guys invited them here for this party.”

“Okay, I’ll ask around.”

“Okay.” you stood with water and your drink ready, looking at Noah if he needs anything else.

“See ya Ell.” he waved his hand at you and disappeared.

-------

“Come on Clara, drink this, please.” as you predicted, Clara didn’t want to drink anything else than alcohol, so it took you few minutes to convince her, but with Samuel’s help you talked her into it.

“Maybe we should take her home.” Molly suggested.

“No! No, no, nooo! I don’t want to leave yet!” Clara protested, but promised to drink another bottle of water if you’ll let her stay.

You really wanted an excuse to run away from those three bachelors, but drunk Clara was oblivious to that, so you ended up next to Josh once again.

Sipping on your drink you continued to listen half way to him mansplaining something to you. You didn’t really care, so you just nodded and made “mhm” sound once in a while.

After while of his non ending monologue you noticed your head started feeling a bit weird. Your vision was blurry for a second and then it went away, but it repeated few times more. Josh’s voice suddenly felt like he was talking from afar, which was weird considering he was shifting closer and closer to you any chance he got.

“I think I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick.” as you stood up your vision became even more blurry, you didn’t hear Josh asking you if you need help and just headed straight for the bathroom.

Inside the house you looked around, you could see people dancing in the living room, but you didn’t see their faces, they were blurry. Complete silence in your head was changing to extremely loud sounds in seconds.

You found the bathroom on the main floor and went for the door handle, but you touched the wall next to the door.

“Hi Ella.” you heard your name and turned your head in the direction of the voice, but again, you couldn’t see the face straight. You knew it was man with long hair. Matt? Nick? Not Jolly, he would be taller. “Are you okay?” you heard that voice again.

“Ye-yeah.” you went for the handle again and finally found it. You quickly closed the door behind you and slid down.

Looking around the small bathroom you started to feel tears forming in your eyes. You felt scared, you didn’t know what was wrong with your body. You couldn’t see straight and you were starting to feel sick.

You wanted to text Molly, but that wasn’t possible.

You heard two loud bangs on the door you were leaning against and then another male voice “Ella are you okay? Let me in.”

Josh, it was Josh. You really didn’t want him to help you in this state you were currently in, but you also felt like your heart is going to explode from the anxiety.

You moved away from the door and opened it for Josh.

“Hey, there you are, are you okay?” he kneeled down to your level.

“No, no. Josh something is wrong with me.” at that point you felt like you’re either gonna cry or throw up, and you didn’t want to do either.

“Come on, let’s take you somewhere quieter.” Josh said and started pulling you up to your legs.

“Wait, Clara and Molly?” you couldn’t even put a full sentence together, but you wanted your friends.

“They’re still with Sam and Justin, we don’t have to disturb them. I can take care of you.” he gently pushed you out of the bathroom and put one of his hands around your waist.

In that moment you started panicking, looking for any familiar face so you didn’t have to leave with Josh. You knew most of the fraternity boys knew you were hanging out with Noah, so you knew if you’d asked them for help, they would help you. Or if they thought you’re “cheating” on Noah and wanted to confront you, you’d take that as a help too.

“Don’t touch me Josh, please.” you attempted to push his hand away, but his grip on your only got tighter as you were almost at the front door.

The chances of someone stopping you until you leave the house were small now and you heard Josh call a cab for you and him to an address you didn’t know.

“Josh I want to stay.”

“You need to lay down and need someone to look after you. I’ll take ca-��

“What the fuck man!” you heard someone approaching you. Josh stopped walking and turned you both around.

That was when you saw Noah, crossing the path in long strides to where you and Josh were currently standing.

“What do you want?” Josh spat back.

“Where do you think you’re taking her?”

“That’s none of your business man, find another one.” Josh turned you both around again and continued walking.

'Find another one.' replayed in Noah's head one more time, no way he's gonna let somene talk about you like that.

“I swear if you make another step I’ll kill you.” Noah was furious, because he knew. He saw your face full of fear and those empty eyes. Josh put drugs in your drink and now was making you leave with him. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

Noah’s chest was going up and down, his eyes dark and full of anger and his hands turned quickly into fists at his side.

People started looking in your direction, that obviously made Josh nervous, „I didn’t do anything man, she’s drunk and she needs to leave.”

“No, you need to leave her alone before I’ll kill you.” you wanted to run to Noah, but your legs couldn’t move. You tried to push Josh away once more, but he grabbed you by your wrist and you let out a wince, which was Noah’s final straw.

When he saw the face you made when Josh grabbed your waist, he lost it. He saw black. He made two long steps and pushed Josh with full force.

Josh was shocked and let go of your hand, your legs finally moving away from him, leaving Noah and Josh behind you. You looked around and saw all the people watching what was happening, but you only wanted to see two faces. Molly and Clare.

“Come here Elle.” Nick, one of Noah’s friend told you and put his arm around your waist to stabilize you and took you back inside the house, meanwhile Matt went to find your friends.

--------

“You fucking bastard!” Noah grunted as his fist made contact with Josh’s nose.

Red blood started running down his chin, but Noah couldn’t care less. He pushed Josh again, this time he fell on his ass and Noah took that as a chance to finish this on the ground.

He grabbed him by his collar and yelled “What did you gave her?” in his face.

Josh knew he fucked up, so he stayed silent, only grunting from the pain Noah was causing him.

When Jost stayed silent, Noah didn’t waste any more time on trying to talk to him and punched him more, until he was satisfied with the black eye and busted lip he gave him.

When he stood up, he looked Josh dead in the eyes and said “If I ever see you or your friends here again, you’re dead. Don’t you dare to touch her or any other woman like that again, fucker.”

Everyone stood and watched with their mouths open. On his way back inside Noah got few slaps on his back, but he only wanted to see you, if you’re okay.

He knew Nicholas took you to his room, so that’s where he headed.

-------

“I’m sorry Ell, I’m so sorry it’s my fault.” Molly sobbed next to you, blaming herself for getting you in danger.

Clara was still drunk, but also shocked from the whole thing, so she was sitting on Nick’s bed, tears running down her face. Both of them were pretty drunk, but thankfully not drugged like you.

You were throwing up, mostly from the sick feeling of what could’ve happen. You heard the door to Nick’s room open and heard Clara say “Oh god.”

She saw Noah in the doorway, with blood on his hands and his white t-shirt, his happy mood long gone.

“Shit man, did you kill him?” Matt asked seriously.

“Where is she?” was Noah’s only concern and Matt nodded in the direction of the bathroom.

Nick stood up and left when he saw Noah, but Molly stayed by your side.

“Leave Molly.”

“No, she’s my best friend and I’m going to take care of her.” she protested.

“Listen, I know you hate me, but I’m full of this bullshit tonight. You’re drunk and so is Clara, so either Matt or Nick is going to take you both to your dorm okay? I’m gonna take care of Ella.”

“But-“

“Shut up Molly, really. Just go.”

And she did, because deep down she knew Noah was right. She was drunk and he wasn’t.

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

When everyone left Nick’s room to give you some space, Noah knelt next to you and held you hair.

When you stopped throwing up, Noah helped you to his car and drove you both to his place.

You were silent the whole time, neither of you starting a conversation.

You were feeling much better after you threw up everything, but you still felt dizzy and tired.

“You can take shower and then go to bed, okay?” Noah led you to his bathroom when you entered his apartment, like you were at there for the first time ever, “Are you hungry? Do you want water? Anything else?”

“No.” you spoke finally, your voice hoarse.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you in the bedroom, take your time.”

You spent half an hour in the shower, crying and trying to wash off Josh’s hand from your body. When you felt like there was no more energy in you, you stepped out of the shower stall and dried yourself off.

You opened the door and Noah took that as sign to walk into the bathroom. He helped you wash off the rest of your make up and detangle your hair. He hated the empty look in your eyes when he glanced at you in the mirror.

"I'm sorry I didn't frag you away earlier, I should know they were dangerous. They are strangers, I should have told you something. I'm sorry Ella."

Noah felt guilty, but you didn't want him to. You wouldn't have listened to him if he told you to not talk to them.

Noah gave you his t-shirt to change into and then you went straight for the bed.

“Do you feel better?” Noah asked before he helped you slide under the covers.

“Yes.” you looked at him properly for the first time since the fight and saw all the blood, “Oh god you look horrible.”

“You should see the other guy.” Noah tried to crack a joke to ease your mood and it helped. You gave him small smile and told him to go shower.

When he laid next to you, you were almost asleep.

“Thank you Noah.” it was short, but he knew exactly what you meant.

You two weren’t in love, but you had some kind of relationship, even if it was just having sex.

He couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.

He held you that night, even when you woke up crying and pushing him away.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

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#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x ofc #frat boy noah #bad omens imagine

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0zeeraa0bloodmoon0 · 2 days ago

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so before i watched nosferatu 2024 i was slightly "spoiled". thats ok. the movie has been put for a few weeks and im not the type of person to whine about spoilers when i didn't make an effort to avoid them. not to mention its a remake of a really old movie.

basically what i heard was that nosferatu is a story about childhood sexual trauma. i was like "ok. a bit of a cliche and over used theme. like 80% of non slasher horror films are about childhood trauma. but this is based on a really old film so ill give it a pass."

what i got from those spoilers is that the point of the story is that Ellen was sexually abused as a child. i also heard some people mention her father so i assumed it was by him.

then i watched the movie i got to the scene where she talks about her childhood and her father to Thomas and it made me think "this is it. this is the scene where she tells him about being sexually abused by her father".

she talked about him neglecting her and her feeling lonely which made me think that she might confess to being the one who initiated the sexual acts. this actually got my hopes up because that would have been much more interesting than her being a passive victim. and if Orlok was a metaphor/symbol of her trauma as i have come to expect and believe frim the "spoilers", than this would explain her love hate fear shame relationship with him. if shes the one who initiated it then that would make sense right?

but then however, the scene passed, and there was no mention of trauma beyond her mother's death and her father's neglect. i was like "ok. in a later scene then. for sure." but the movie ended, and i was left confused...

it made me wonder "who the hell were those people talking about?? who abused ellen as a child??" but then it hit me....

THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT FUCKING ORLOK

i could barely hold back a groan when i realized because seriously??? come on!

idk about you guys but i never really thought about Orlok as a person, with morality. to me he was always a symbol, a metaphor for something greater. not just some "creepy old guy who grooms Ellen and is a metaphor for other creepy old guys who groom people i guess?" the way so many people claim him to be. Orlok isn't just some dude who can groom people. hes an idea.

i hate this interpretation of the movie so much. because not only is it over done. not only is it overly simplistic. not only is it an insult to my and other people who think more deeply about this movie's intelligence.

but its also THE. MOST BORING. INTERPRETATION. that you could possibly come up with for this movie.

like its one thing that these people love feeling morally superior when they go on their little keyboard-warrior rants about how anyone who disagrees with this movie being about childhood trauma and god forbid they dare call it a romance are all disgusting, evil and sould be locked up and share a psychological profile with ted bundy (?????)

but they do all this, for an interpretation so painfully boring

just go watch a mervel movie or something jesus

(this post was made in a rush so its not the most eloquent expression of my thoughts, that would take hours to write, but i hope i got the point across anyway)

#nosferatu 2024 #nosferatu #count orlok #ellen hutter #thomas hutter #ellen x orlok

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itendtothinkalot · 1 day ago

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& it was all yellow (strangers to lovers)

summary: yellow was never beomgyu’s favorite color—until you came along with your ridiculously bright yellow headphones that somehow made you look even cuter. he saw you on the bus once, just minding your business, and that was it—game over for him. suddenly, yellow wasn’t just a color; it was you. the only problem? beomgyu (yes, the choi beomgyu, who seems cool and confident to everyone else) turns into a shy, blushing mess whenever you’re around. now he’s sitting there, heart racing, trying to come up with any excuse to talk to you—without making a complete fool of himself. except he does.

genre: fluff!!! super mega fluff. no angst. none at all. i promise!

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 11.9k

warnings: cursing? i think

a/n: im such a beomgyu simp. i just have so much ideas for this man...and legend has it hes not even my bias.........................

Beomgyu liked to think of himself as two different people.

There was Group Beomgyu—the one his friends knew. Loud, quick-witted, always cracking jokes that left everyone in stitches. He was the guy who could light up a room without even trying. The one who dared his friends to do the ridiculous, like singing karaoke in public or sneaking fries into a movie theater.

But then, there was Solo Beomgyu.

That version of him emerged the moment he was alone. Quiet. Thoughtful. A little unsure of himself. Solo Beomgyu found solace in the mundane—watching raindrops race down bus windows, people-watching from his favorite spot at the back of the bus, and trying to guess the life stories of strangers in passing.

The bus ride to campus was his favorite part of the day. It was his escape, his time to recharge before stepping into the chaos of college life. And lately, it had become even more interesting—because of you.

It was silly, really. The first time he noticed you, he thought you looked cute as you climbed onto the bus in a skirt and baby tee. Your hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and you wore a pair of headphones that were impossible to miss. Those headphones—bright, sunny yellow—were probably the most damning thing about you.

How could someone so effortlessly capture his attention with something as simple as a pop of color? Yet there you were, sitting a few seats away, bobbing your head to the music only you could hear, completely oblivious to the way you’d become the highlight of his mornings.

Life had a funny way of showing irony. Just the day before, after spending hours gaming with his buddies, Beomgyu had sighed into his pillow, the weight of routine pressing down on him. It wasn’t that he hated his life—far from it. He was content, in a way. But somewhere deep down, he felt like his world had lost its color.

Nothing excited him anymore. Life had become an endless loop: wake up, take the bus to campus, study, head home, game with his friends, sleep, and repeat. Sure, there were the occasional party invitations, and he didn’t mind attending one here and there. But even those didn’t light a spark in him. They were fun, sure, but not really his scene.

It was strange to think how much his days blended together—until recently. Because now, as silly as it sounded, one part of his routine had started to stand out.

You.

Or, more specifically, your bright yellow headphones. They’d added a splash of color to his otherwise grayscale world. Something about how unapologetically vibrant they were made you seem larger than life, even as you quietly kept to yourself. It wasn’t just the headphones—it was you. The way you looked so at ease in your own little bubble, head bobbing to music only you could hear.

It was ridiculous to feel this drawn to someone he’d never even spoken to. But then again, maybe those yellow headphones weren’t just a splash of color. Maybe they were the first brushstroke of something entirely new.

It had been weeks since he’d first noticed you. By now, he’d already memorized your bus schedule—not because he was a stalker or anything, but simply because you seemed to follow the same routine as him. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, like clockwork, you’d board the bus at the same stop, settle into your usual seat, and disappear into your world of music.

The two of you always got off at the same stop, though you’d inevitably drift in separate directions. He’d head toward the business building, his heavy bag slung over one shoulder, while you veered off toward the art center. That alone made him think you were an arts student. It fit, somehow. There was something creative about the way you carried yourself—effortless, like you were painting a masterpiece just by walking through the world.

And even though he didn’t know your name or anything about you beyond these small details, you’d already become a fixture in his mind.

–

“You should talk to her,” Soobin mumbled, biting off a chunk of his chocolate bar and waving it lazily in the air as if the solution were that simple.

“And say what?” Beomgyu shot back, slumping further into the worn couch in their shared dorm.

“I don’t know... things?” Soobin shrugged, barely looking up from the phone in his other hand.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “You’re useless.”

Soobin smirked. “Says the guy who’s spent weeks staring at her like a weirdo.”

Beomgyu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “It’s not that easy, okay? What if she’s not interested? What if I mess it up? What if—”

“What if she’s waiting for you to say something?” Soobin interrupted, his tone suddenly a little softer. “Look, all I’m saying is, you’re not gonna get anywhere just memorizing her bus schedule and hoping she notices you exist.”

Beomgyu scoffed but couldn’t deny the sting of truth in his friend’s words. He’d spent so much time admiring you from afar, inventing scenarios in his head, but none of them ever involved him actually... acting on it.

“Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to Soobin. “I’ll talk to her.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Beomgyu straightened up, determination flickering in his eyes. “Next time I see her, I’ll... I’ll figure something out.”

Soobin grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Can’t wait to hear about how that goes.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare but couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at his lips.

–

And just like that, he’d convinced himself he was ready to approach you. Except he wasn’t. Days had passed, and despite his mental pep talks and rehearsed lines, he couldn’t bring himself to even say hi.

Like he said, “solo Beomgyu” was a whole different type of Beomgyu.

In front of his friends, he could crack jokes and steal the spotlight without breaking a sweat. But in front of you? He became a nervous wreck, fumbling over words in his head that never even made it out.

Well, that was until one fateful morning.

The city had woken up to chaos. Roads were closed in multiple areas because of some big event Beomgyu didn’t bother to look up—probably a marathon or a parade or something equally annoying to his morning routine. Either way, it was causing a major disruption, and Beomgyu was not thrilled.

He stood at the bus stop, waiting impatiently as three consecutive buses rolled by, each one packed to the brim. It felt like an eternity. He rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

Great.

The crowd at the stop grew thicker, and Beomgyu found himself shifting uncomfortably between clusters of impatient commuters. He hated waiting. Hated the feeling of wasting time when he could’ve been doing literally anything else.

And then he saw you.

You stood a little further down the pavement, your yellow headphones perched snugly over your ears, your gaze focused somewhere distant. You didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the chaos around you, which only added to the list of things Beomgyu found unfairly fascinating about you.

For a moment, he debated whether to move closer, maybe strike up a conversation while you both waited. But before he could make up his mind, the next bus pulled up.

This one wasn’t quite as crowded, though still far from comfortable. Beomgyu squeezed on, finding himself pushed toward the back, when suddenly, a voice interrupted his silent grumbling.

“Excuse me.”

It was soft but clear enough to make him glance over—and there you were, maneuvering through the aisle, your bag held close to your side as you tried to find a spot to stand. Beomgyu froze.

You were right there.

Fate, coincidence, bad luck—whatever it was, it had dropped you within arm’s reach. Beomgyu’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to decide what to do. Say something? Smile? Pretend he didn’t notice you and stare out the window like his life didn’t hinge on this moment?

The bus jolted suddenly, and you stumbled, grabbing onto the nearest pole to steady yourself. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—that pole was the same one Beomgyu was holding onto.

Your hand brushed his, just briefly, but it was enough to send his brain into overdrive.

“Sorry,” you said softly, glancing up at him with an apologetic smile before returning your focus to the window.

Beomgyu blinked, his heart still racing. He opened his mouth, words teetering on the edge of spilling out, but all he managed was a faint, “It’s okay.”

You didn’t hear him. Or if you did, you didn’t acknowledge it. And just like that, the moment passed, leaving Beomgyu kicking himself internally.

But as the bus rolled on, he found a tiny flicker of hope. Sure, he hadn’t said much, but you’d spoken to him first. That had to mean something, right?

20 minutes. The bus ride was 20 minutes, and the two of you were right next to each other. Beomgyu felt his palms sweating, his heart pounding in his chest.

God, she’s right beside me. He felt himself gulp, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.

He’d never been so grateful for being almost a head and a half taller than you. It meant you couldn’t see the small, nervous glances he kept stealing in your direction.

The bus was growing more crowded by the minute. It was starting to get a little uncomfortable. You could feel yourself being pushed into Beomgyu, the pressure increasing with every jolt the bus took. His arms were propped up, gripping the taller handles above him, while you fumbled around, trying to find anything to hold onto. First, you grabbed the pole, then the handles near the seats, but as the bus rocked, you found yourself with nothing to stabilize you.

Beomgyu noticed. His heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, he reached behind you, his hand hovering near your backpack, fingers brushing against the fabric, just trying to hold you steady. He hoped you didn’t notice.

But the bus was moving like a rollercoaster. The driver swerved around a corner, and suddenly, the entire vehicle felt like it was on the edge of tipping. A pothole hit with a thud, and the jolt sent you stumbling.

You flailed for balance, but there was nothing left to grab. Before you knew it, you were teetering dangerously, feeling yourself lose your footing.

In an instant, Beomgyu’s hand shot forward. His fingers found your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall. The warmth of his hands against you was unexpected, sending a flutter through your chest.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly, your voice soft but clear, your heart still racing from the near-miss.

Beomgyu froze for a second, the sound of your voice like music to his ears. He felt the flush creep up his neck but tried to hide it with a casual, “No problem.” His grip lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, though neither of you seemed to mind.

The bus swayed again, and for a second, everything felt oddly... comfortable. Beomgyu could hear his heart thumping in his chest, but this time it was because of you—not the chaos of the ride.

—

The next day, the roads had finally cleared up. Beomgyu silently thanked every living being for that, especially since he had been about 30 minutes late for his class the previous day, missing out on a lecture he’d already been struggling with.

As he waited for the bus, his eyes automatically scanned the street, and there you were—your familiar yellow headphones bouncing as you made your way toward the bus stop.

You looked up, catching his eye from a few feet away, and offered him a smile.

“Hello,” you said, your voice light and friendly.

Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, he forgot how to breathe. “H-Hello,” he managed to croak out, cringing inwardly. Idiot.

You didn’t seem to mind, though. You gave him another smile, and it felt like the whole world slowed down for a second.

The bus soon arrived, and the two of you got on. Beomgyu’s eyes scanned the seats, and to his horror, all the empty ones were... right next to each other.

He froze. Great. Of course. Of all the seats.

Reluctantly, he made his way toward the row where you had already started to sit, mentally preparing himself for a potentially awkward ride. As he approached, you glanced up at him, your expression brightening.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

You shook your head. “It’s a free country.”

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment longer than necessary before sitting down beside you.

The bus jolted forward, and he instinctively reached for the pole above them, his fingers gripping it a little too tightly. Why am I so nervous? He couldn’t understand it.

Meanwhile, you settled into the seat, adjusting your backpack and glancing out the window. For a moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—sitting beside someone you’d barely spoken to but already felt strangely connected with.

Beomgyu had no idea how to break the silence. But then, as if on cue, you turned to him.

“So… how’s your day going so far?”

It was a simple question, but the way you asked it made his heart race all over again. He managed to smile, albeit awkwardly.

“Uh, good, I guess. The roads are less crazy today.”

You laughed, and it felt like the weight in his chest lightened a little. “Yeah, I noticed. It was a mess yesterday.”

He nodded, relieved that the conversation hadn’t turned into an awkward silence.

“So… you’re heading to the art center again?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah. I’m always there on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“Oh.” He pretended like he hadn’t known this little detail about you.

Beomgyu found himself relaxing a little more with each passing second. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. The awkwardness was still there, but it felt like a stepping stone—like the beginning of something that could finally get easier.

The bus continued to roll along, Beomgyu stole a quick glance at you, his heart fluttering as you hummed softly to the music in your headphones. For once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable.

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, with only the occasional rattle of the bus as it made its way through the streets. Beomgyu found himself struggling to think of anything to say. He could hear the faint melody of your music through the air, but there was no other conversation to fill the space. He tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh, stealing glances at you, trying to figure out how to start another topic.

His mind raced with all the things he could say, but none of them seemed good enough. This is so awkward, he thought, almost groaning internally. Why is this so hard?

His eyes landed on his phone. The distraction was tempting. He pulled it out and quickly opened Spotify, deciding that he could at least use the music to mask the silence between the two of you. Beomgyu scrolled through his playlists, searching for something that felt right for the moment.

The bus jerked again, and Beomgyu adjusted his seat, tapping on a song and turning the volume up, only to suddenly realize—Wait, I haven’t connected my AirPods.

Flustered, he fumbled with his phone, tapping at the Bluetooth settings and then back to the app, his face warming with embarrassment. Idiot.

But as the awkwardness hit its peak, you turned to him with a soft smile. “I like that song,” you said, your voice calm and easy, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “It really suits you.”

Beomgyu blinked in surprise, his nerves a little shaken by the unexpected compliment. He looked at you, his heart racing again. “It suits me?” he repeated, voice a little higher than he intended.

You shrugged lightly, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Yeah, it’s got a kind of... laid-back vibe. Kind of like you, I guess?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed, not sure whether to laugh or be more self-conscious. He adjusted his AirPods in a hurry, trying to make himself look less flustered than he felt.

“Thanks,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, it’s just a playlist... but yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”

You smiled back, then looked out the window again, but Beomgyu couldn’t help but notice how much more comfortable the moment felt now. The weight of silence didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

He tapped play on the song again, this time making sure the music was coming through his AirPods. The familiar melody filled his ears, and for once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable. Instead, it was like a subtle connection was forming, one little step at a time.

"And how would you know if I'm laid-back?" Beomgyu asked shyly, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but the curiosity in your eyes made him feel like he could ask the question without it sounding too awkward.

You chuckled softly, turning to face him for a moment. "I don't know," you shrugged, smiling. "Just a guess? Call it a woman's intuition."

Beomgyu blinked, not quite sure what to say. “Woman's intuition?” he repeated, a little taken aback.

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe I just get a sense of things.” You hesitated for a second, then added, “But I could be wrong. I mean, I don’t really know you.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. But at least, for now, you didn’t seem to mind.

"I-I guess I do try not to let things bother me too much," he mumbled, still trying to figure out what to do with his hands. "Though, I wouldn't say I'm always that chill. I have my... moments." He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't think he was some kind of mess.

You smiled, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "Everyone does."

Beomgyu blinked, surprised by how comforting your words were. For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down again, and it was just the two of you, exchanging these small moments of understanding.

"True," Beomgyu said softly, his smile growing a little more genuine. "I guess I'm just not great at dealing with, you know, awkward moments."

You looked at him curiously. "Awkward moments, huh?"

Beomgyu nodded, his ears turning a little red. "Yeah... like this one." He gestured vaguely between the two of them, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I mean, I don't usually... I don't know, talk to people like this."

Your smile softened. "You seem like you’re doing just fine to me."

His heart swelled a little at that. "Really?"

"Yeah," you replied, your tone sincere. "You’re doing great."

Beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile he couldn’t contain. "Thanks," he said, feeling a little less nervous than he had before. "That means a lot, actually."

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the bus’s tires on the road and the faint music in his ears the only background noise. Beomgyu felt a strange sense of peace settle in his chest. Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all.

He glanced over at you, catching you humming softly along to the music, and realized that, somehow, this was one of the most comfortable conversations he’d ever had.

"Hey," Beomgyu said after a beat, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What about you? What’s your favorite type of music?"

You turned to him with a thoughtful look, clearly enjoying the question. "I guess I’m all about the acoustic stuff mostly."

"Acoustic, huh?" Beomgyu said with a smile, intrigued. "I can see that. Seems like something you’d like."

You smiled, the sound of your laughter filling the space between you. "You got that from…?”

“Call it an idiot’s intuition.” He chuckled.

You laughed, “What about you?"

Beomgyu chuckled, trying to hide the grin that spread across his face. "I’m pretty into all kinds of stuff, but right now? Definitely some chill pop. Y’know, maybe I’m starting to agree with you on the whole laid-back thing."

You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing him. "So, you admit it?"

Beomgyu shrugged, leaning back a little, feeling a little more confident with each word. "Yeah. I guess I do."

And in that moment, Beomgyu finally realized that maybe, just maybe, the things he’d been too nervous to do or say weren’t as difficult as he’d once thought.

—

Beomgyu slumped back into his bus seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. After weeks of stealing glances and summoning every ounce of courage he had, today had finally been the day he talked to you. Well, kind of. It was small talk—weather, classes, and music. But it was progress.

And yet, in his nervousness, he’d forgotten the most important thing. He hadn’t asked for your name or your number. He groaned inwardly, glancing out the window as the bus trundled down the familiar route. It was Thursday, which meant he wouldn’t see you again until Monday. Four whole days.

“Great,” he muttered, slumping further into his seat. “Four days to kick myself for being an idiot.”

Monday arrived far too slowly, and Beomgyu was oddly fidgety, his leg bouncing as he stared at the bus stop from his seat. The bus slowed to a stop, and his heart leapt in anticipation—only to sink when you weren’t there.

He glanced out the window, confused. Maybe you were running late. Or you’d taken an earlier bus? He brushed it off, convincing himself you’d show up tomorrow.

But then Tuesday came. And Wednesday. And still, there was no sign of you.

Beomgyu found himself staring at the seat you always sat in, empty and glaringly obvious. He hated how it bothered him so much. He barely knew you—he didn’t even know your name—and yet he felt like something was missing. Like the bus rides were quieter without the possibility of you being there.

By Thursday, disappointment had settled heavily in his chest. He sat near the back, earphones in but barely paying attention to the music. The world outside the window blurred past, but his thoughts were stuck on you.

Where were you?

—

It had been approximately two weeks since Beomgyu had last seen you. You had vanished like the wind, leaving him frustrated and more restless than he wanted to admit. Every day since, he’d made excuses to linger outside the art center, hoping for some sign of you. Desperation had even driven him to approach the center’s custodian, awkwardly asking if he’d seen anyone with bright yellow headphones.

“Yellow headphones?” a voice behind him piped up, catching Beomgyu off guard. “You mean this girl, right?”

Beomgyu turned to find a tall, sharp-featured guy holding out his phone, displaying a picture of you.

Immediately, Beomgyu’s stomach twisted. He took in the guy’s confident smile, the casual air about him, and the way he spoke about you like he knew you well—too well. He didn’t like it one bit.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Beomgyu said, his voice measured. “Who are you?”

“I’m Yeonjun,” the guy said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He extended a hand, but Beomgyu hesitated for a second before shaking it. “I’m her friend.”

Friend? Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed slightly. Yeonjun was a little too good-looking to just be a friend, wasn’t he?

“So, uh…” Beomgyu cleared his throat, trying to hide the slight edge in his voice. “Do you know where she’s been?”

Yeonjun’s expression softened, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Yeah. Something happened a couple of weeks ago. She’s been taking some time off to deal with it. But she should be back next week.”

Beomgyu felt a wave of relief wash over him—until Yeonjun added, “She’s been doing okay, though. We’ve been texting, and I’ve checked in on her a couple of times. You know, just to make sure she’s alright.”

Beomgyu’s jaw tightened. Texting? Checking in? Was that really necessary for a “friend”? He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a pang of jealousy flared in his chest.

“Right,” Beomgyu said, forcing a small smile. “That’s good. It’s good she has…people checking in on her.”

Yeonjun tilted his head, studying Beomgyu for a moment. “Who are you, anyway?” he asked casually. “Do you…know her?”

Beomgyu froze for a split second, the question catching him off guard. He shrugged quickly, trying to play it off. “Not really. We just…take the same bus sometimes.”

“Oh,” Yeonjun said, his lips quirking up into a small, knowing smile. “I see. So you’re, what? A bus friend?”

“Something like that,” Beomgyu mumbled, suddenly feeling like an idiot. He wished he’d thought of something cooler to say, but it was too late now.

“Well,” Yeonjun said with a grin, “that’s cute. But yeah, don’t worry—she’ll be back soon. And maybe I’ll see you around too, man.”

“Yeah. See you,” Beomgyu replied, watching as Yeonjun walked away.

As soon as Yeonjun was out of sight, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He felt ridiculous. He didn’t even know your name, and yet here he was, stewing over some guy who probably wasn’t even competition.

Still, as he walked back toward the bus stop, the thought lingered: What if Yeonjun wasn’t just a friend?

—

And Yeonjun was right. You were back the following week, except you were dressed in the darkest colors Beomgyu had ever seen you wear. Your expression matched your clothing—cloudy, somber, and weighed down by something unseen. Strangely, he found it almost endearing that you seemed to dress the way you felt.

Still, it made him worry. Not that he had any right to, given that you two weren’t exactly close. But the thought lingered: What could’ve happened to make her look this upset?

When he finally gathered the courage to take the seat beside you on the bus, you didn’t even glance at him. You were completely absorbed in your thoughts, your body language practically screaming, Leave me alone.

“Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Your voice cut through his thoughts suddenly.

“Huh?” he asked, blinking in surprise.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed out the window. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “It can suck,” he admitted. “But it can also be really great.”

You turned your head slightly, finally acknowledging him with a raised brow. “Oh, yeah? How’s it ‘really great,’ exactly?”

“Well,” he started, leaning back in his seat, “it’s great because… it’s unpredictable. You never know when something good might happen. Even when everything feels like it’s falling apart, sometimes the universe throws you a surprise. Like…” He paused, glancing at you meaningfully, “…sitting next to someone who’s too cute to be upset.”

The corners of your lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through. “That’s cheesy,” you said, but there was no hiding the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Cheesy, sure, but also a fact ,” he replied with a grin. “See? You’re smiling already..”

You shook your head, laughing softly before falling quiet again. After a beat of silence, you sighed. “I’m not usually like this. I don’t like moping around. It’s just…”

Beomgyu tilted his head, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“…My parents decided to sell our old childhood home,” you admitted, your voice soft and tinged with sadness. “I had to go back and clear out all my things. It’s stupid. A first-world problem if you must, but I didn’t think it’d hit me this hard.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze warm and understanding. “It’s not stupid,” he said gently. “It’s your childhood. It’s where you grew up, made memories, and felt safe. It’s okay to be upset about losing something that meant so much to you.”

You looked at him, your expression conflicted. “I guess. It’s just… I feel so silly. Like, there are bigger problems in the world, and here I am crying over a house.”

“It’s not just a house, though, is it?” he countered, his tone firm but kind. “It’s a piece of you. And no one gets to tell you how to feel about it, not even yourself. Your feelings are valid—every single one of them.”

Your lips parted slightly, taken aback by his sincerity. For the first time in days, you felt a weight lift off your chest.

“Thanks,” you said softly, offering him a small, genuine smile. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said with a wink, making you laugh despite yourself.

As the bus rolled to a stop near campus, you glanced at him and hesitated for a moment. “Hey, Beomgyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe life doesn’t suck that much after all,” you said, your smile widening just a little before you stood up and stepped off the bus.

He stayed seated, watching you walk away, and couldn’t help but grin to himself. Maybe life didn’t suck that much, indeed.

Then it hit him.

How’d you know his name?

—

It had become second nature to save each other a seat on the bus. Whether it was an unspoken agreement or just something you both fell into, neither of you questioned it. For the next two weeks, your mornings began with a quiet understanding. You’d sit side by side, talking about the most mundane things—complaints about the weather, funny things you’d overheard, or random thoughts that popped into your heads.

Still, you hadn’t exchanged names, let alone numbers. It was almost absurd at this point, how you knew snippets of each other’s lives but not the most basic details. Except you did know his name—and Beomgyu was still wondering how.

Beomgyu found it funny too. But he didn’t mind. He liked your conversations, no matter how random they were.

Then one day, Beomgyu didn’t show up.

You found yourself glancing down the street more than once, your brows furrowed as you searched for any sign of his figure walking toward the stop. The bus pulled up, and you hesitated, standing on your toes to peer down the block one last time before climbing aboard.

You took your usual seat by the window, feeling a small pang of disappointment. The bus rolled forward, the rain outside picking up again and blurring the city beyond the glass. You stared at the streaks of water running down the pane, wondering where he could be.

That was when the bus jerked to a sudden stop.

You glanced toward the front, curious, only to see someone hopping up the stairs, drenched from head to toe. It took you half a second to recognize him, but when you did, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you.

Beomgyu stood there, panting slightly, his hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his jacket. His sneakers squeaked against the floor as he caught his breath.

“You made it,” you said, grinning as he shuffled over to your seat.

“Yeah,” he replied between breaths, dropping into the seat beside you with a sheepish smile. “Barely.”

“Did you seriously chase the bus?” you asked, trying not to laugh too hard.

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I couldn’t miss it. Someone’s got to save you a seat.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you handed him a tissue from your bag. “It’s the other way around, is it not?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, taking the tissue to wipe his face.

As the bus rolled forward again, the rain continued to pour outside, but it didn’t bother you as much anymore. Beomgyu was here, sitting beside you again, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, that made the day feel a whole lot brighter.

“Y’know… I still don’t know how you know my name while I don’t even know yours,” Beomgyu said, leaning back in his seat as he looked at you with curious eyes.

You grinned sheepishly, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “I… It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid is that we’re practically best friends now, and I still don’t know your name or have your number,” he said with a pointed look.

“I like our friendship. It’s low maintenance,” you teased, biting back a smile.

“I’d like it more if I could talk to you more often instead of just on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” he countered, his lips quirking into a small pout.

You laughed. “But isn’t it fun this way?”

“It’s a whole amusement park,” he replied with a chuckle. “Though we’re threading off-topic—how’d you know my name?”

“Who doesn’t know your name, business boy?” you shot back, laughing softly.

“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“You’re the infamous business boy on our school’s social media page. You don’t know about that?”

“Oh, I heard Soobin mention something about it a couple of times, but I don’t really check the app. I just use it to look at the lunch menu,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, you’re always making appearances on there. Especially from new students. ‘The dude from Econs 305 is really cute,’” you mimicked in a high-pitched voice, earning a laugh from him.

“Oh, so you’re saying you frequent the page often to find me?” he teased, leaning a little closer with a smirk.

“No! I’m just saying it pops up on my feed,” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. You looked away, embarrassed by the way he was watching you now.

“Hmm.” Beomgyu’s smirk deepened as he tapped his chin dramatically. “You’re blushing. Are you sure you don’t check it on purpose?”

“Absolutely not,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.

“Okay, okay,” he relented, though his grin didn’t fade. He leaned back in his seat and looked at you thoughtfully. “Still, I’m flattered. Infamous, huh? Guess I’ve got quite the reputation.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, after a moment of silence, he tilted his head and added, “So, are you ever going to tell me your name, or are you going to keep the mystery alive?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I don’t know… The mystery has a certain charm, don’t you think?”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned dramatically. “Throw me a bone here.”

You laughed, finally relenting. “Fine. I’ll tell you—on one condition.”

“Anything,” he said eagerly, his eyes lighting up.

“You’re going to have to wait a little longer,” you teased, grinning at the look of mock horror on his face.

“Is this some kind of game for you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you grinned, feeling a little mischievous. “But don’t worry, I’ll tell you soon enough.”

Beomgyu sighed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

Your conversation was abruptly cut off by the bus driver’s voice over the intercom, his tone apologetic. “Sorry for the delay, folks. There’s a small flood up ahead, and we’re going to have to take a detour. We’ll be going around, so it’ll take about 20 more minutes. Please bear with us.”

You sighed, leaning back into your seat. The rain outside was relentless, tapping against the windows in a rhythm that made your eyelids heavy. Gradually, you drifted off, your head tilting toward the window. Every so often, you jerked awake, only for your head to fall back against the glass with a soft thud. Beomgyu watched you, his lips twitching as he stifled a chuckle. He shifted closer, his gaze softening. Carefully, he leaned over and gently placed your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t stir. The comfort of the moment made you relax further into him, unaware of the quiet smile on Beomgyu’s face. After a few moments, an idea sparked in his mind. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a Sharpie, the black marker feeling oddly significant in his hands. Glancing down at your arm, he softly grasped your wrist, guiding it gently. He wrote quickly, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he scrawled:

‘Text me, I’m trying to be your best friend on all 7 days of the week - Beomgyu’

Once he was done, he sat back, his heart racing a little as he looked at your sleeping form. Pretending like nothing had happened, he adjusted his posture and looked out the window, as if he hadn’t just written his number on your arm.

About 15 minutes later, the bus jolted as it finally approached your campus, pulling into the stop with a slight screech of the wheels. The ride was almost over, and you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open slowly. You blinked a few times, squinting in the morning light that filtered through the windows.

Beomgyu glanced over at you casually, his face neutral as you yawned, rubbing your eyes. You stretched and groggily looked around, your gaze landing on him.

“Hey,” he said, almost too nonchalantly. “We’re here. Campus, I mean.”

You nodded, still dazed from sleep. “Yeah, I guess we are.” You glanced down at your arm, and your eyes widened when you saw the writing on your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips, though you tried to hide it.

Beomgyu didn’t acknowledge your surprise, pretending to look out the window, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his bag. “Didn’t want to wake you up, but… it’s kind of hard to miss, huh?”

You rubbed your arm, trying to act casual. “Hmm, what’s this?” You raised an eyebrow, playing along.

“Nothing,” Beomgyu said, voice smooth. “Just figured it was a good time to share my number. You know, in case you need me for… any reason.” He grinned, his gaze flicking to you for a moment before he quickly looked away, feigning innocence.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart fluttering a bit at his casual confidence. “Smooth, Beomgyu. Really smooth.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to make sure I’m not just a bus stop friend,” he said, a playful tone in his voice. “I’ve got big plans for us to hang out… all week long.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

Beomgyu only grinned, looking down at his bag as the bus doors finally opened. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As you both stood up, gathering your things, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you two, the kind that felt both thrilling and comforting all at once.

—

Beomgyu glanced down at his phone again, his finger hovering over the screen, but there was still no text from you. It had been a day or two since he wrote his number on your arm, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were just too busy or, worse, playing hard to get. The thought made his chest tighten. He didn’t like that feeling, the uncertainty, but it was all he could think about. God, he wanted you so much, but now... now he wasn’t so sure.

He sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket and heading toward the campus bus stop. His mind kept replaying the moment he'd written his number on your arm, hoping you’d text him. He should’ve just asked for your number, but for some reason, he’d held back. What was wrong with him?

And then, as if on cue, he saw you standing there. His heart skipped a beat. You were just as he remembered—yellow headphones hanging around your neck. But there was something different this time. Something he hadn’t expected.

Someone was with you.

Beomgyu stopped dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. Yeonjun. Of course, it had to be him. The guy was tall, confident, and... his arm was around you. Beomgyu's stomach twisted, the jealousy creeping up on him. He wasn’t the type to feel this way, but seeing the two of you together felt like a punch to the gut.

He told himself it wasn’t a big deal. That you’d never given him any indication you liked him in the first place. You were beautiful, funny, smart—of course, you’d be taken. He shouldn’t even be surprised, but damn it, it stung more than he expected.

Beomgyu glanced away, his feet itching to leave. Maybe it was better not to make a fool of himself.

Just as he was about to walk off, a loud voice rang through the air. "Beomgyu!"

He turned, and there you were—waving at him, smiling that infectious smile of yours. His heart fluttered. You looked so happy to see him. For a brief moment, the jealousy melted away, and all he could do was return your smile.

"Beomgyu, right?" Yeonjun said, raising an eyebrow. He grinned, the kind of smile that made Beomgyu want to roll his eyes. "I remember you. You’re the one who asked me where she was when she disappeared for two weeks."

Beomgyu’s face flushed instantly. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to vanish into the ground or laugh it off. "No, no. That’s not me," he muttered, shaking his head quickly, trying to downplay the awkwardness of the moment.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. "No, I remember. It was you. I mean, you're the Business Boy, aren’t you?" He smirked, clearly amused. "I was a little surprised you were asking about this idiot here."

You shoved Yeonjun lightly, but Beomgyu could see the playful affection in your eyes. And in that moment, his heart sank. So this was it. You and Yeonjun. He had hoped he was wrong, but now he could see it clearly. You were a couple.

"You asked about me?" You tilted your head slightly, your eyes catching his.

Beomgyu’s cheeks flushed pink. "I mean, you were gone for so long, so I was just... wondering where you went."

"You came all the way to the arts center just to ask about me?" Your voice was light, teasing, and for some reason, it made his heart race.

Beomgyu quickly waved his hand, his face growing even warmer. "It’s not like that," he said, trying to downplay it. "I was just curious, that’s all."

But before he could say anything more, you grinned, eyes sparkling. "That’s so sweet!" You suddenly rushed over to Beomgyu’s arm, linking it with yours, much to his surprise.

He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. He wasn’t sure whether to pull away or enjoy the moment. His heart thudded in his chest as you looked up at him with a playful smile.

"Okay, okay," Yeonjun chimed in, his voice teasing. "I get it, you two have some weird little connection, but we have to get going. I’ll let you two catch up later." He gave Beomgyu a knowing look before nudging you gently, a playful grin still on his face.

You looked a little embarrassed, but you didn’t let go of Beomgyu’s arm. "Sorry, I just... haven’t seen you in a while, Beomgyu," you said, your voice quieter now, your gaze softening. "It’s nice to know you cared enough to ask about me."

“It’s only been two days,” Beomgyu thought bitterly, but didn’t say aloud. He couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment that surfaced, especially after the number exchange that had been left hanging.

"Also, you haven’t texted me back," you sighed dramatically. "To think you were the one who told me to text you."

Beomgyu blinked, slightly taken aback. "You did?" His voice betrayed his confusion. "I didn’t get anything from you."

"You did!" You shoved your phone in his face. "See?"

Beomgyu grabbed your phone and checked the message history. "I didn’t get anything," he said again, scrolling through, but as he looked closely, he raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you saved my number wrong. It’s an 8, not a 6."

You stared at the screen in disbelief. "It’s a 6. I’m sure of it. Hold on, I even took a picture of it! See!" You quickly opened your gallery and shoved the phone at him again, showing him the snapshot of the contact info.

Beomgyu frowned, shaking his head. "No, that's definitely an 8," he said with a laugh, trying to hide his amusement at your determination.

"You have terrible handwriting!" you retorted, hands on your hips.

"No, I don’t!" Beomgyu shot back, now laughing. "You just have terrible comprehension skills!"

The two of you continued to bicker, your playful banter creating an almost natural rhythm. Yeonjun, standing beside you, cleared his throat loudly, interrupting the back-and-forth.

"Love, we really have to go," he said, his tone flat and a bit impatient, but still affectionate.

You blinked, suddenly realizing the time. "Oh, right! Sorry, I got carried away." Then, turning to Beomgyu with a bright smile, you said, "I’ll text you tonight, Beomgyu!"

Beomgyu, still processing the sudden turn of events, gave you a nod, though his chest felt oddly tight. "Alright," he said, his voice soft. "I’ll be waiting."

With that, you waved one last time and walked away with Yeonjun, leaving Beomgyu standing there, staring after you. He couldn’t help but wonder if the playful banter had meant something more—if maybe there was more between you two than just casual friendship. But until he heard from you, he could only hope.

—

Beomgyu laid in bed, his mind racing. Strangely, it wasn’t you that occupied his thoughts now—it was Yeonjun. Who was he, really? He wasn’t one to stalk someone’s Instagram, but tonight, he found himself doing just that. Scrolling through endless dance videos, selfies, and posts, he finally stumbled upon a highlight reel with a familiar yellow color—your yellow headphones.

Without thinking, his fingers tapped the screen, and video after video started playing. There you were, laughing, giggling, screaming, clearly having fun with Yeonjun. The two of you were obviously close—closer than he had imagined. His chest tightened as he watched, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He didn’t know how to feel. Jealous? That seemed silly, especially since you had never shown any signs of liking him back. His crush on you felt like a one-sided affair, and if anything, this just confirmed it.

Beomgyu chuckled to himself, still feeling that flutter in his chest. He quickly typed another response.

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably under the covers. Time to move on, he told himself. It was just a silly crush, and he had no right to keep dwelling on it. You were probably just being nice, and Yeonjun was clearly in the picture. Beomgyu had no business lingering on something that wasn’t even real.

Just as he was about to close the app, a notification popped up on his screen.

Yellow Headphones: Beomgyu!

His heart skipped a beat, and a rush of warmth spread across his chest. So much for moving on, he thought again, his thumb hovering over the message. He hesitated for a second before responding.

Beomgyu: Yellow headphones~ Yellow Headphones: Is that my new nickname? Beomgyu: Well, depends, it’s either that or bus girl and that doesn’t really have a ring to it. Yellow Headphones: I suppose. Anyway, whatchu doing? ^^

Well, Beomgyu couldn’t tell the truth, now could he? Stalking your potential boyfriend sounded really stupid.

Beomgyu: Just using my phone. You? Yellow Headphones: With Yeonjun right now. He’s been stressed over his dance recital and I’ve been helping him with it, but he’s still feeling all over the place. Beomgyu: Oh. You and him seem really close. Yellow Headphones: Of course! We’ve been friends since we were 10 ^^ we’re practically brother and sister. Beomgyu: Oh! You two aren’t dating? Yellow Headphones: God no, ew… besides, he has a girlfriend, and he is not my type.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he read that. Not my type—those words felt like a weight lifting off his chest. The knot in his stomach loosened, and he felt an unexpected surge of hope.

Beomgyu: Oh!

Beomgyu smiled—actually, he beamed. His excitement made him jump out of bed, letting out a quiet scream of joy, before realizing he was making too much noise.

“BEOMGYU, SHUT UP, I’M TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP!” Soobin yelled from across the hall.

Beomgyu winced, sheepishly holding his phone closer to his chest. "Fuck, sorry!" he whispered, grinning to himself. He had a reason to be happy tonight, and that was enough for now. He quickly typed another message, eager to keep the conversation going.

Beomgyu: Haha, my bad. Yellow Headphones: Haha, it’s okay! Anyway, do you have any plans for tomorrow?

Beomgyu hesitated for a second, heart thumping. Was this really happening?

Yellow Headphones: Maybe we can hang out? I’d love to take this friendship out of the bus.

Beomgyu grinned wider, practically bouncing on his bed.

Beomgyu: I’ll see you at our usual bus stop at 3 then? Yellow Headphones: Sure!

—-

Beomgyu had been waiting at the bus stop for 10 minutes, it wasn’t that you were late, he was just really early, his excitement bubbling up as he checked his phone for the time again. He was nervous, but in a good way. Today was the day. The day he was meeting you outside of the usual school routine, just the two of you. And from the messages he'd gotten earlier, it was clear you were as excited as he was.

Then, as if on cue, he saw you.

You appeared in the distance, looking like a burst of sunshine in a bright yellow dress. Your hair was styled in a half ponytail, held up by a cute bow, making the whole look even more playful. Beomgyu felt his heart race as he took you in. Adorable. He couldn’t even put it into words, but his grin stretched from ear to ear. He had to force himself to stop from gushing about how cute you looked, biting his lip to keep himself from saying it out loud. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to—he just didn’t want to seem too eager.

You skipped over to him, a playful energy radiating from you, and nudged his arm. "There you are," you giggled, poking his sides, making him flinch in surprise but laugh all the same.

"You look great!" you added, eyes twinkling as you looked him up and down.

Beomgyu’s heart fluttered at the compliment. He’d styled his hair with a bit of gel, making it tousled in that effortlessly cool way. He’d chosen a simple, casual dress shirt and slacks—nothing fancy, but enough to look presentable. Enough to say, yeah, I look good. Because, well, he was Beomgyu, and he always did.

“Do I look any different from how I dress on campus?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, though his smile betrayed his excitement.

You chuckled, crossing your arms in front of you as you assessed him. “Well, yeah. You only wear hoodies to school.”

Beomgyu couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m a hoodie guy, what can I say?”

“You’re a hoodie guy with potential,” you teased, poking his side again.

His grin widened. “Guess I’ve got to wear more than just hoodies around you then, huh?”

You shrugged playfully. “Maybe.”

Beomgyu chuckled, feeling a strange warmth spreading through him. This was nice. Really nice. He found himself staring at you, the way you carried yourself with such ease and confidence, making it impossible not to smile. He was genuinely looking forward to this.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” he asked, wanting to make sure he didn’t come off as awkward, though he was fighting back the urge to let the conversation tumble into something that would sound way too cheesy.

“Well, I thought we could grab coffee first,” you suggested, grinning mischievously. “Then maybe take a walk around the park or something. Just… relax.”

“That sounds perfect,” Beomgyu replied, his voice a little softer than usual, but full of sincerity. He was definitely not about to complain about spending time with you.

You both fell into an easy conversation as you waited for the bus, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but steal glances at you when you weren’t looking, his heart racing in a way he wasn’t used to. Being around you felt different. He’d always been around people, but this—this felt like something he couldn’t quite put into words.

It didn’t matter, though. Today was the start of something, and he was finally okay with the fact that he was feeling it.

—

Beomgyu felt his palms starting to sweat as he sat across from you at the coffee shop. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but suddenly he was nervous. Really nervous. His usual confident demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by a strange fluttering in his chest. Every time you laughed, he felt a little spark, and when you looked at him with that warm smile, it was like his heart skipped a beat. It was all so much more than he had anticipated.

You were saying something about how cute the coffee shop was, but Beomgyu was only half listening. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you—how effortlessly you moved, how you interacted with the people around you, your kindness radiating in everything you did. You said thank you to the barista, smiled at a little kid passing by, and his heart couldn’t help but swell. You were starting to feel a little too perfect, and it was making him swoon.

“So,” you said with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee, “this is a pretty cute first date, isn’t it?”

Beomgyu nearly choked on his drink. “Date? This is a date?” he blurted out, wide-eyed. His heart leaped into his throat as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t even thought about it that way.

You looked up at him, your cheeks instantly turning pink. “This isn’t a date? Oh… I just assumed… this is really embarrassing,” you said, your voice trailing off as you awkwardly shifted in your seat.

Beomgyu felt a wave of panic wash over him. His brain short-circuited, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He’d been so wrapped up in the idea of spending time with you that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of this being a date—and now you were embarrassed, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

"I—I'm sorry, I didn’t—" You sputtered, your words tumbling out in a mix of embarrassment. Then, in a flustered panic, you stood up and accidentally knocked over a glass of water onto your dress. "Oh my god!" you exclaimed, your face flushing in mortification.

Beomgyu’s heart dropped. “No! This can be a—” He rushed to stand up but hesitated, unsure of what to say to make things better.

You started to gather your things, clearly upset. “You don’t have to pity me, Beomgyu. I’ve been in this situation before,” you muttered, looking away and clutching your things tightly. “I’ll just—”

"No, you don’t get it!" Beomgyu almost shouted, his voice a little more desperate than he intended. "I don’t—it's not like that. I didn’t—this can definitely be a date if you want it to be," he stammered, feeling the heat rise to his face.

You froze, your hand still gripping your bag, and turned back to look at him. The nervousness in your eyes faded slightly, replaced by a hesitant curiosity. “Really?” you asked softly, as though unsure if you should believe him. “Because you don’t have to lie—”

“I’m not,” Beomgyu replied quickly, his voice more certain now. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since you took the bus in those big, bright yellow headphones.”

“Oh,” you whispered, your eyes widening slightly. For a moment, everything was silent except for the chatter from everyone else in the coffee shop.

Beomgyu scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of how to continue. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't look away from you. “I know this probably isn’t how we both pictured this would happen,” he admitted, his voice softening.

This time, it was you who fell silent. You didn’t know what to say, so you just stood there, frozen in place. Then your eyes flickered downward. You realized your dress was wet, a small stream of water dripping down your leg.

“Right, my dress,” you mumbled, suddenly panicked.

“Here,” Beomgyu said quickly, handing you a napkin.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice small as you dabbed at the wet fabric.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence, the realization of what had just been said still hanging in the air. So, you both clearly had feelings for each other, but neither of you seemed to know what to do with them.

“So, uh…” You both spoke at the same time, your words overlapping, before you both chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, uh…” Beomgyu trailed off, his hands shifting uncomfortably in his lap. “This is… a lot.”

“Yeah, a little,” you agreed, your voice tinged with a mixture of laughter and embarrassment.

For a moment, neither of you spoke again. The noise around you, the clinking of coffee cups and low hum of conversations, seemed to fill the space between you, making it feel both cozy and utterly awkward at the same time.

Beomgyu was the first to break the silence, his voice quiet but sincere. “I really like you, you know?”

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering. “I like you too, Beomgyu. I really do.”

He looked at you, his eyes soft and a little shy now, but there was something else there too—hope. “Before we, I guess… become a couple…” He cringed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how endearing he was. “I’d love to take you out on a few dates first. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

You grinned. “You’re almost too perfect, I fear.”

Beomgyu smirked playfully. “I was thinking the same thing.”

You laughed again, the sound light and easy between the two of you. It felt good—comfortable, even—and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so at ease with someone.

—

Two years had passed since that awkward coffee shop moment, and here they were again, at the same bus stop where it all began. Beomgyu and you stood side by side, hand in hand, but there was a noticeable difference now—two years of laughter, moments, and quiet affection between the two of you.

“This is ridiculous!” you exclaimed, frustration clear in your voice. “Why didn’t we think of moving somewhere else? Why do we insist on staying in this godforsaken area?!”

Beomgyu just chuckled, squeezing your hand lightly. “Baby, c’mon, this is where our roots are. Have you forgotten? Bus buddies and all that crap?”

You shot him a playful glare, rolling your eyes. “Gyu, this is getting crazy.” You gestured towards the crowded bus, which was slowly pulling away. “It’s the third one we’ve had to miss today. We’re never going to get to work on time at this rate.”

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly. “We could always just skip work. You know, pretend we’re working from home?” he teased.

You playfully shoved him. “Not funny,” you said with a soft laugh, though the frustration was still there. “But seriously, this is becoming a bit much. You’ve been saying for ages that we need to get out of this neighborhood.”

He took a step closer, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “You really wanna move out of this area?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost a little hesitant.

You turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. There was a seriousness in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. “I love the memories we’ve made here, but the buses are a nightmare. And we don’t even live that far from each other anymore…” You sighed. “I don’t know. I think I might be ready for a change. Something a bit quieter. Closer to our workplaces.”

There was a brief silence as Beomgyu let the words sink in. He stood there for a moment, his hand still in yours, before a smile spread across his face. “You know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been thinking about something too…”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

Beomgyu’s smile grew, his eyes glinting with excitement. “What if we, uh, moved into an apartment closer to work? Somewhere we could both call our place… together?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions.

“I mean…” he trailed off, his voice suddenly softer. “I know we’ve been living separate lives in our own places, but what if we took the next step? What if we moved in together, like a real couple? Maybe in an apartment just a few blocks away from our workplaces? We could make it our own… just us.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the gravity of his words settled over you. For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him right.

But then, his hand gently cupped your cheek, and the sincerity in his gaze melted any doubt away. “What do you think? I’ve been saving up, and I thought… maybe it’s time. Time for us to be closer. To have our own space.”

Your heart was racing, your mind still trying to process everything Beomgyu had just said. You had dreamed about this moment, but hearing him actually say it out loud felt surreal. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” you whispered, the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“I am, if you say yes,” he replied, his voice full of sincerity, yet there was a hint of playfulness behind it.

You looked at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Now, how could I ever say no to that face?”

Beomgyu deadpanned, “You say no to me all the time.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s because your requests are ridiculous. We’re not having dino nuggets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We need some variety.”

“Mayo, ketchup, ranch,” Beomgyu replied nonchalantly, as if that was a reasonable combination.

You scrunched up your nose. “That’s gross.”

“And yet, you still kiss me,” Beomgyu said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“Unfortunately?” he said, his voice dropping in pitch as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You didn’t seem to complain last night.”

You immediately flushed, quickly shooting a look around to make sure no one was nearby. “No bed talk in a school zone, idiot,” you shot back, trying to stay serious but failing miserably.

He grinned even wider, leaning in a little closer. “There are no kids here.”

You pointed at him accusingly. “There’s one right here,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

Beomgyu threw his hands up in mock surrender, still chuckling. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” But his grin never faded.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the energy between the two of you so effortless, so right. It felt like two years of inside jokes, shared moments, and quiet affection were all wrapped up in this one little exchange. You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand tighter as the bus pulled up, and just before it came to a stop, you said, “So, where’s our new apartment gonna be, huh?”

“Well…call me crazy but I’ve already been looking up on some apartments for about a few weeks now and since we’re not in a rush–we’ll be working from home today, by the way,-- and we can check out this new apartment listing I saw.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking aloud, “Hm, I don’t know. Work is kinda my only time to get rid of you.”

“Get rid of me? Baby, you need me.” He said, smugly.

“Alright fine. Is it open right now?”

“The open house ends in 30 minutes we can make it in time.” Beomgyu mumbled, glancing over to his watch.

“Fine.” You grunted.

—

The two of you made your way to the apartment Beomgyu had told you about. A laundry room, an island counter, a big enough living room to do late night acrobatics (Beomgyu does that when he’s drunk sometimes)—it almost felt too good to be true. But as you wandered through the space hand in hand, inspecting every corner, it wasn’t just good. It was perfect. The rent was within budget, and the apartment was a short walking distance from both your workplaces. It felt like everything was falling into place.

Until it wasn’t.

“No. NO!”

Both of you turned sharply toward the doorway, where Yeonjun stood with a look of pure horror on his face.

“I’m not having you two rabbits as neighbors,” he declared dramatically, crossing his arms. “I’ve already suffered enough when I stay over at Beomgyu’s place.”

“We never ask you to stay over,” Beomgyu shot back, rolling his eyes. “You choose to do it.”

Yeonjun scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “It’s not my fault she runs my social media page and always posts updates late at night!”

You shrugged innocently. “Well, if we’re neighbors, we could communicate much more easily, don’t you think?”

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t possibly have the world’s most annoyingly clingy couple living next door to me. It’s a nightmare scenario.”

Beomgyu sighed dramatically and stepped forward, throwing an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders. “Yeonjunnie~,” he cooed, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes. “I love you.”

You grinned, quickly sliding to Yeonjun’s other side and clinging to his arm. “We love you~,” you added, mirroring Beomgyu’s syrupy tone.

Yeonjun looked utterly betrayed, glancing between the two of you as though you’d just sentenced him to a lifetime of torment. “I’m calling Taehyun and asking him to raise the rent,” he grumbled, attempting to shake you both off.

Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “You’d betray me like this? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Everything we’ve been through? We’re only friends because this freak decided to date another freak,” Yeonjun retorted, glaring at the two of you.

“Hey!” you pouted, crossing your arms. “Don’t say that. He’s a cute little freak though, isn’t he?” you added with a grin, reaching over to pinch Beomgyu’s cheeks.

“I’m going to throw up,” Yeonjun groaned, looking genuinely pained.

“Don’t do that on my new carpet,” Beomgyu warned, straightening up and swatting your hands away.

“What do you mean, your new carpet—wait…no.” Yeonjun’s eyes widened in horror.

“Yes.” Beomgyu smirked smugly. “Hi neighbour!”

“Fuck this shit! I’m moving out,” Yeonjun declared, throwing his hands in the air and storming toward the door.

“Love you too, Yeonjunnie~,” Beomgyu called after him, laughter bubbling in his voice.

“Enjoy your new carpet,” Yeonjun shot back, slamming the door behind him.

—

Beomgyu sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a paintbrush like it was a weapon, his cheek already smeared with a streak of light blue. “Baby, stop!” he warned, narrowing his eyes at you.

“You painted my face first?!” you exclaimed, holding up your own paintbrush, dripping with pale yellow.

Before he could react, you swiped the brush across his nose, leaving behind a bright streak. Beomgyu gasped dramatically, dropping his brush to grab yours, but you jumped up and dodged, laughing.

“Come back here!” he yelled, chasing after you around the room.

You yelped, trying to escape, but he caught you around the waist and spun you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “Hm, I win.” he said triumphantly, dipping his finger in paint and smearing a heart on your cheek.

“Gyu!” you squealed, trying to wriggle free, but he only held you closer, grinning at his handiwork.

“Perfect,” he declared, his face close to yours now. His grin softened as he looked at you, his hand resting on your cheek. “Okay, you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever painted.”

Your laughter faded into a warm smile, your heart fluttering. “You’re such a dork,” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and dipped your hands into the blue paint. Pressing your palms gently against his lips, you smirked. “How about we make green?” you teased.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, dipping his fingers into the yellow paint and smearing it across your lips in retaliation. “Challenge accepted,” he said with a grin.

“We’re definitely going to get serious stomach pains from toxic paint,” you muttered, unable to hide your laugh.

He leaned in anyway, pulling you closer as his hands rested gently on your waist. His lips pressed against yours, the faint, messy blend of colors forgotten in the warmth of the kiss.

After a few more playful smears of paint and an awful lot of kisses, the two of you sat on the floor, finally taking a breather. Beomgyu pulled out a small wooden frame from one of the boxes, holding it up with a sheepish smile.

The bright yellow headphones sat perfectly preserved in the shadow box. “I thought we could hang this on the wall,” Beomgyu said softly, his voice laced with nostalgia.

You stared at it, your heart swelling with emotion. “You kept them?”

“Of course,” he murmured, his tone quieter now. “It’s cute how you gave these to me on our first anniversary, don’t you think?”

“Well, you did say the theme was memories,” you said with a small smile. “And I think meeting you is one of my favorite ones.”

“Who are you, and what have you done to my mean and sarcastic girlfriend?” Beomgyu teased, his lips twitching into a playful grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Remember how sweet you thought I was in the beginning?”

“You were sweet. For like…the first two months,” he said, feigning deep thought. “Your true colors came out right after I introduced you to Soobin.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve been mean way before that,” you laughed. “It’s called trying to impress the cute boy I liked.”

“You should win an Oscar for that performance,” he quipped.

“Against who? You?”

“Oh, please,” he shot back with mock indignation. “I’ve never pretended. I’m 100% authentic.”

“Laid back? Remember that? You were all like maybe I am laid back.”

“I am!”

“Baby, you scream and jump around the apartment until 2 a.m. You’re a menace.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not laid back,” he said, grinning. “Just means I’m loud.”

“Very loud. You’ve been pretending to be a soft boy this entire time, haven’t you?”

“You caught me,” he admitted with a laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

After a brief struggle with the frame, he finally managed to hang it up on the wall. “Tada!” he announced proudly.

The two of you stepped back to admire it, your shoulders brushing as you stood close together. Beomgyu slid an arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head. “Welcome home, baby,” he murmured, his voice warm and tender.

“Welcome home, Gyu.”

#txt fic #txt oneshot #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu x reader #tomorrow x together #choi beomgyu au #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu fluff #choi beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x y/n

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pinep-ne · 1 day ago

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Mmm. I usually don't get into fandom drama because sometimes it's really just a waste of energy. But TikTok's got some... interesting people. I've noticed a pattern and I hope I have a place to speak on it.

I'm kind of sick of non-Americans/Southerners being blatantly and willingly uneducated towards, or even just entirely ignoring the political+societal themes of rdr2. It's literally the game man. I just think sometimes they really don't feel the weight of the topics they're throwing around.

Why are you calling Charles a "redneck" in a failed attempt to call him another slur, neither of which were you aware were derogatory, nor did you think to educate yourself on the significance of?? And then when people called you out and educated you, you throw out a meager apology with the words "I'm sorry if I offended anyone."

And then proceed to half-ass a google search, post it, and further prove your stupidity by saying "redneck isn't a slur, it's a derogatory term for Americans" which yes, it is— towards white, southern, lower-class Americans, with actual history tied to it. It's still derogatory, and Charles isn't white. And THEN when confronted about it even more, you throw your hands up and say "I just can't make jokes I guess." Like it was never a joke in the first place dude. You're just being racist (and accidentally classist?) on account of your illiteracy.

And this one was just a wild argument I had the other day— why are you calling Micah's racist remarks "not as black and white as that"??? He quite literally says a derogatory term within the first ten minutes of the game. There's a whole four minute youtube video of his racist actions. Joking or not, or whether you think his intentions were to 'rile people up', it's still discriminatory. Racism is often, if not always, as black and white as that. (no pun intended /srs)

Thinking otherwise, I'm tempted to believe, is your own projection. It shows a lot that you'd stretch so far to continuously deny and defend a continuously emphasized theme, that directly affects the characters as it has directly affected real people. Hell, even if it was vaguer than that. How much tolerance are you privileged with to brush off and prance around something that irrevocably damaged entire communities for centuries. Just because it's fiction? 'Cause it's not real? Because "it doesn't affect anyone"?

They also said "He can't be racist! He works with POC!"

???

I'm all for liking and appreciating whatever character you want— I'm not gonna spend my time leading all those horses to water— but snatching and running with the veil of fiction to dissolve the connotations and gravity of a very real thing, simply depicted within a story, just so you can slobber all over your favorite character, it's just undoubtedly shallow and disrespectful to the history and media that you claim to comprehend. You can't just create lines to read between and pull the "have some media literacy" card when someone calls out that you really never had such power in the first place. Like I said, do whatever you want with a character, but at the very least acknowledge every single part of them instead of brushing it off.

Ah anywho. I'm not a POC myself but I am Southern. Racism is still very present here and I felt it'd be important to me to speak up about it. If anyone's got perspective to offer, or they'd like to correct me on anything, I'm open. I think my prose may be a little too flowery to have gotten every point and logistic across, so there's always a chance of misinterpretation. Just let me know!

*** Hh and disclaimers because I'm afraid of misunderstandings. I know racism exists in places outside of the U.S., but the game is placed in America. It's in the context of discrimination against American POC, that some non-Americans tend to poorly gauge the difference and weight of. In neither of these instances were the people from the U.S. And as another thing, this isn't to ignore the treatment other characters receive regarding their culture or country (Sean, Javier, Charles, etc.) by folk who are not a part of it. It's just ignorance. The cycle sickens me. I just think in general if you're going to consume historical fiction and you're going to discuss it, at least understand the historical part. Don't be blissful x

#this isn't entirely exclusive to non-americans either but just uneducated people #but mostly a pattern i've noticedwithin that specific trait...#im so scared right now #rdrtok giving me white hairs #spawn point for braindead fans #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption community #red dead fandom #rdr2 community #charles smith #micah bell #pinethinks

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miwiheroes · 3 days ago

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Dropping Byler Evidence Every Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 20: Phonegate . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Here I am today talking about whether phonegate is canon or not, but I also want to point out a new point that I feel like no one talks about because apparently you're only ever allowed to be completely on one side of things and never on the fence on this tag but hello:

If phonegate is real, it is a byler proof.

If phonegate is not real, it is also a byler proof.

Um okay hear me out.

Firstly, let's talk about Phonegate being REAL, then I'll get onto my explanation of the possibility of it not being real still being a byler proof.

REAL

First of all, let me clarify, I truly believe that phonegate is canon. But on the slight chance that it is not, it still doesn't negate byler. Anyways, onto the Real.

Will and Mike both have an argument in Rink o Mania about not being able to contact each other. It's clear that Will is angry about the fact that Mike hasn't called and believes that he doesn't care as much as Mike about their friendship. This is a misunderstanding.

Mike then throws this back at Will because he also has the misunderstanding that Will doesn't care as much about his friendship. We find out that this is because: Mike can't seem to get in touch with Will on the phone -> Mike hears from El that Will is painting for someone else (which is their thing) -> Mike finds out that the painting 'is not for him' in the airport and that it's 'nothing' -> Mike notices that Will has been acting strange all day and is annoyed that he's ignoring him -> Mike says that he's sorry he acted so offended, but he only did that because he was scared that he'd lost Will.

Therefore, something must have happened for Mike to have felt like he'd lost Will. He would never have felt that way if he hadn't tried to call him.

Now, one thing that I've noticed is that Will never tried to call Mike. And I was like, well, I guess Mike has the right to question that of Will right? Well, this misunderstanding gets fixed by the painting. This is because the painting proves that while Will didn't call Mike, he was still thinking about him. He was still thinking about Mike and doing something for him. So while Mike thought he had lost Will, he really had Will this whole time. Which is why the painting being commissioned by El is such a disappointment for him.

The painting, when it gets revealed to him, is proof to Mike that Will hadn't been lost during that time period. YAY! But when Will says it was commissioned from El, Mike gets disappointed because it means to him that Will hadn't been thinking of Mike the whole time, in his eyes. If that makes sense??

AND THEN.... we get the thing about "Mike won't stop whining about it."

This is not about El.

Mike talks about 'stealing Cerebro from Dustin' at the end of S3 in relation to calling El, not discussing the phone at all. As you can see in this image as well, there is a radio in the Mike box, implying that El uses this specific radio to talk to Mike. It is also a major plot point in season 4 that the government are looking for El and that El has to be called Jane because the government are looking for her, so Mike cannot call her on the phone because the government listens to phone calls.

I think that Dustin saying "Mike won't stop whining about it" proves that Mike has been trying to get into contact with Will this entire time, proving that the Rink o Mania scene was one of those classic "letters? you wrote me letters?" tropes that happens super often with romantic couples.

Also the fact that DUSTIN says this is interesting because he was the one trying to get into contact with Suzie in S3. The fact that he is also Will's friend as well as Mike shows that only Mike whining about it implies something deeper about their friendship. Surely Dustin and Lucas should be whining about it too if Will's their friend? But no, it's just Mike, showing that his feelings are more than friendship.

So there's one more discrepancy left in this narrative: If Mike had called, why didn't he just tell Will? And solve their argument?

And to that I say: because he's gay and has internalised homophobia my guy. All this previous proof SHOWS that he definitely called Will. So why did he lie? He lied because he would rather have Will get annoyed at him than look incriminating. Calling Will over and over is something that he has romanticised in his head, and this is simply confirmed by the fact he doesn't say it. Mike was calling Will because he loves him, therefore he doesn't want to say it because it would seem that way to Will. Therefore, Will not talking to him is the best case scenario for him. He would rather Will not talk to him for this reason than the other one.

This was not an act of selfishness. It was an act of self-sacrifice. It seems, on the surface, that Mike is being bitchy about Will not calling him back, but underneath OH BOY he's prioritising Will like he always has..... just in a different way, by not making him uncomfortable by his romantic actions.

More Proof that this is a plot point in the show is the Stranger Things game leaving a litttleee Easter egg:

UM EXCUSE ME WHAT IS THIS????? A very very obvious clue if you ask me holy shit.

Overall, PHONEGATE IS FUCKING HUGE. There are also many other little easter eggs that I don't even think I can go into right now. (For example, little subtle focuses on the Byers' phone and the phone being something associated with Will constantly) I truly think that phonegate is canon and proves that Mike romanticises his actions surrounding Will, that Mike really did think he lost Will and this means the painting plot is just made even more painful.

But there is another possibility.....

NOT REAL

On the off chance that the Duffers did not write this plot extremely seamlessly, and that Mike is just a jerk who did not even try to contact Will and just blames it all on him, it still kind of seems like a byler proof to me even if he didn't call.

Not calling kind of implies that something is keeping him from wanting to call. He also ends up apologising for this, feeling like he had lost Will. This means that the reason for not calling him was being too afraid that Will was having fun without him. And we can see from the ending of S3, that Mike has just realised something big about Will.

So, if we want to go with the narrative of Mike having internalised homophobia, it makes sense for him to have either phoned Will a bunch of times but doesn't tell him because it would be too incriminating..... OR

It also makes sense for him to have not phoned at all because that action would ALSO be too incriminating for him to do, because he sees phoning him and writing letters to him as a romantic thing to do.

SOOOOO basically, phonegate being canon would be the best way to write this storyline and proves that Mike must have internalised homophobia because he sees him calling Will all the time as a romantic, incriminating thing (also it makes the painting lie more devastating so it would be a cool plot point) BUT if it is not canon, while this won't be the best writing choice, it would still prove Mike has internalised homophobia because it means he romanticises calling Will, and doesn't do it in the first place, because it would be incriminating.

#byler #byler nation #byler endgame #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #byler evidence #byler proof #miwiheroes daily byler #phonegate

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rose-gold-bullet · 2 days ago

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[𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤] Star-Lord x Reader

Summary: You're sent on a mission to another planet and catch the attention of your ally. This takes place in the Marvel Rivals Universe; this Star-Lord might vary from the MCU!

warnings: brief 'love interest protects you from a creep' trope, canon-typical violence in the beginning, chronic use of (Y/N) in this bad boy

Your vision is clouded by thick smoke as buildings come crashing down around you. In this war-torn city, there's nothing to count on but your instincts, your weapons-

"Woo-hoo! Two points for the Star-Lord!"

Oh, and your idiot ally who's somersaulting through the air. The two of you and four others were called here on a mission to transport something to somewhere; frankly, neither of you read the brief, but it doesn't seem like you needed to.

Your new friend, Star-Lord you think you heard him say, lands right in front you. With the area quiet and the haze finally dissipating, you both lower your weapons and check your surroundings. Though it's out of sight and being watched over by the rest of your team, you're sure the objective has just about reached its destination. You watch as he removes his mask to say something, and he's so pretty you almost miss the enemy movement coming from behind him.

"Hah! did you see tha-"

"Duck."

"Goose?" you groan and shove him to the floor for his protection as you raise your gun, knocking out the Psylocke who was racing to get you when your defenses were low.

"Ohh, Nice one! She's so quiet!" He cheers you on from the ground as you extend your arm to help him up, rolling your eyes but smiling at the flattery. Once he’s up, neither of you let go of each others arms for a moment. It takes you a second to realize you’ve stared at him for just a bit too long, and once you do you jerk your hand off him as though you’ve been burned and clear your throat. Just as you let go of each other, you hear Captain America shouting your names from a few streets over.

Once you're all grouped up, you're notified there's been no known casualties on either side and that the mission was a success. With that, you're all free to go, and you want nothing more than a peaceful, quiet walk on the way to the hotel you've booked for the night. With all this multiverse bullshit going on, it's been over a month since you were given approval to head back to Earth where you belonged. Travelling the universe has been exciting and all, but you can't help but miss home; the closest you've been able to find to it is a room for one built in a style you could maybe find somewhere on your planet.

"Hey! You!" you hear the sputtering of fuel behind you followed by a thump as your friendly pursuer lands as gracefully as he can beside you, "I never got your hero name!" Maybe this walk won't be as peaceful as you hoped.

You've seen him around before during missions, and he's even tried speaking to you a couple times, but you've just been so inside your head lately you've shut out just about everyone. As annoying as he might be, part of you is glad he's not the type to give up.

"I don't have one. (Y/N) is fine." You look up at him and catch the most upset look he could muster.

"(Y/N)? Fine normal name, I guess. But that can't be your hero name! I saw you out there, you were awesome!" You can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm, and his smile widens even more, "Tell you what, I'll come up with one for you."

Your giggle grows into a laugh, "Absolutely not, Star-Lord."

"What's wrong with Star-Lord? It's badass!" You want to say what you really think, that his name is both bad and ass, but it'd feel like kicking a friendly dog, so you swallow your jab.

"I guess it's a hero-name of some kind, which might be better than nothing." You humour him.

"So you'll let me pick?"

"I'll let you come up with ideas."

He proceeds to spitball the worst names you have ever heard in your entire life, which eventually spiral into any noun he can think of followed by 'lord'. You can tell that at a certain point he stopped trying and is just trying to make you laugh, but that doesn't mean it's not working.

"Gun-Lord?"

"Be- Because you saw me with a gun?" You can barely contain your giggles enough to answer.

"Too on the nose, huh?" He grins down at you, but you don't catch the adoration in his eyes.

Eventually you calm yourself down, "These suggestions have been so helpful, don't get me wrong, but I don't think we've found the winner quite yet."

"Give me a bit, maybe I'll come back tomorrow with some more heavy-hitters. We'll get you that name eventually. Where are we headed, by the way?" He looks around and notices you've reached the untouched part of the city, though the citizens are still, understandably, in a bit of a panic.

"I'm headed to my hotel. Where are you staying?"

"Pff, lame. I stay in a ship with my crew, you can stay there if you want!"

"Your... crew?"

"You haven't heard of us? The Guardians of the Galaxy?"

"Uhh, I might've heard that cute armed raccoon mention something like that? You know him?"

He laughs, "Don't call him that in front of him, he's a bit feral. But yeah, He works with me. So does Mantis and Groot."

"Weird crew you've got going on."

"You'd fit right in!" You can tell he definitely didn't mean it as an insult, "I'd have to get to know you a little better, but I think we could use someone like you, you know." You laugh again, but this time it's in disbelief. He can't be serious.

"I... I kind of have a life on Earth, I think. As tempting as it is to fuck off into space and do... space things together. I don't even know your name."

"I prefer Star-Lord, but Peter works too. And I think you're underestimating how cool the space things are. Come on, you're curious aren't you? Let me show you my ship."

You pause for a moment and think it over. You'd never join his crew, but there's just something about him that makes the thought of seeing him again so exciting. You wonder if other people find him so charming or just paint him as egotistical.

"Sure. Yeah. Meet me sometime tomorrow, maybe?"

"Your hotel, 10:00 AM?"

"Done."

You spend the rest of the walk talking mostly about Peter. You love asking the questions and he loves answering even more. You learn about his life in space, that he's not totally human like you thought, and you even get into discussing music by the time you've reached the lobby.

"I guess that's it for today." You try to hide your disappointment as both stand a few feet form the front desk—you already know him well enough to sense he doesn't need more of an ego boost.

"Yeah. It was great running into you, you kicked ass on the field."

"You too," you look up at him but suddenly have the urge to avoid eye contact, "Thanks for walking me back."

"Anytime."

***

Your night at the hotel felt longer than usual and you couldn't quite make out why. Maybe the room just wasn't as comforting as it looked in the pictures. Maybe you didn't get as much sleep as you wanted because you were too excited to see this spaceship you've heard so much about. Whatever the case, 10:00AM couldn't come fast enough, and by 9:30, you were already sitting in the hotel lobby, your leg bouncing with excitement. You feverishly check your watch and sneak glances out the tall, sunlit windows hoping you'd see your talkative new friend. 'Relax. You're never this antsy over a man,' You try to tell yourself. You sigh and close your eyes to ground yourself a little more.

"Stood up?" A gravelly, unfamiliar voice asks you.

"Huh?" Your eyes shoot open and dart towards the stranger in front of you. He's older, lean, and a bit too close for comfort. You stand up and take a step back. He takes a step forward.

"I asked if you got stood up. A pretty lady like you shouldn't be all alone." You can smell the alcohol; he's probably from the hotel bar. 'This early? Gross.'

"No, I'm just a bit early. Thanks for your concern, but you can head back to the bar."

"You should join me. You'd have more fun with my buddies and I." You're not sure if you should knock his lights out now or try to get someone's attention; you absolutely hate making a scene, and you can't tell what would cause less of a disturbance to the otherwise empty lobby.

"This guy bothering you?" You feel a hand on your waist, and you hate to admit it, but it provides a sense of comfort. You fight your instinct to roll your eyes—of course he of all people would love to save the damsel in distress; he's probably practiced that line in the mirror.

Nevertheless, you lean into him to sell your relationship a bit more, "I think we're fine. He was just leaving."

The creep goes pale; Peter is large. Even when drunk, he knows there's no way in hell he was going to beat him in a fight.

"Uhh. That's right. Have a great day, you two." He stumbles back towards wherever he came from, and you quickly turn to face your saviour.

"My hero." Sarcasm drips from your voice, "Thank you for saving me, Star-Lord." You roll your eyes and everything, but after saying hero, nothing else could penetrate his skull.

He smiles widely and his face tints red at the use of his name, clearly oblivious to your mockery, "No problem! It's expected of a Guardian like me." You can't help but laugh; He's just so dumb.

On the way out of the lobby, you quickly check your watch—‘9:43; he’s early, too.’ You smile to yourself, trying to keep it subtle.

You sharply inhale the strange, almost Earth-like air as he leads you in the direction of the aircraft dock near the edge of the city.

"It's still strange to me that ship docks even exist," You try to break the silence, "We've never had a need on Earth."

"Yeah, it's mostly a No-Fly zone for the other planets. Doesn't help that there's not much there anyway."

"Earth has a lot of problems, but it's not bad, I think. Maybe you should visit sometime. I've only just left and I'm already pretty homesick." It's only a half-truth; You've felt this way since you've left your family for S.H.I.E.L.D—it's a lonely life, being a hero.

"... Maybe. I don't know. My home's on that ship now. I'm not even sure what family I've got left there on Terra." You can tell he's got mixed feelings about his life back on Earth. You know better than to pry.

You only notice now that his hand is still on your waist from the lobby once he sighs and tightens his grip around you a little. You're farther from Earth than you've ever been, but you notice that the closer you are to Peter, the less you feel that pit in your stomach telling you to come home. And it’s probably wishful thinking, but you hope that maybe he feels the same way around you.

***

"Who the flark is this?" You separate from Peter only to use him as a shield from the talking raccoon,

"Uh, we've been on missions together before? I'm the gun girl?" you squeak out from behind him. You wanted to make a good impression, but it's a little hard to do when you're the only one on the ship with manners.

He squints, "... Widow?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh." He completely loses interest in you and goes back to working on whatever death machine he's tinkering with. You're not sure whether to be relieved or take offence.

"Yeah, that's Rocket. He's a real sweetheart." Peter takes to holding your hand as he guides you through the ship, meeting the rest of his crew one by one. It's an interesting group on a near dysfunctional aircraft, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't see the appeal.

Eventually, Peter leads you to the cockpit. Your eyes widen as you step towards the control panel.

"You can actually fly this thing?" You ask in awe, with one hand still holding his and the other tracing over the dashboard. You don't need to look at him to hear the smugness in his voice,

"Yup. Pretty cool, right? We'd have to get a seat added for you if you stay with us long enough, but it shouldn't take long to install."

"And where would I sleep if I were to ditch my hotel like you mentioned?" Again, you're definitely not considering joining his crew. You just want out of that hotel and you have a healthy curiosity.

"Uh... There's always my room?" Your head jolts to Peter who's shooting you his best flirtatious grin. It's goofy.

You giggle, "Only if you're fine with sleeping on the floor." Truth be told, staying with him does sound a lot better than a dingy hotel with a lobby that serves alcohol at 9:00AM. But you're not the type to sleep with someone you've only just met, even if you really want to, and even if it's only in the literal sense. Besides, you like Peter, but it’s hard to know just how many cute girls received the same treatment before you.

"Fair enough," He sighs, "There's a spare bedroom that's all yours if you want it."

"I might just take you up on it. Did you know S.H.I.E.L.D isn't even covering my room costs? total bullshit." You tactically leave out that you can more than afford it and you just want to spend more time with him (and maybe Mantis, who seemed absolutely lovely).

"Sounds good, we'll both be here for a couple weeks anyway until we're given the go-ahead to... what was it? 'Fuck off and do space things?'"

"That's right."

"Right. So yeah, My ship is your ship or whatever. But not really." You giggle and note the possessiveness he has over the Milano, "Welcome aboard... Earth-Woman?"

"Absolutely not."

This time it's his turn to laugh, "The next one is gonna be killer though, Trust me."

You smile at him before gently squeezing his hand then letting go to fully face the cockpits windows. You can only imagine the stars and planets this ship has seen, captained by someone who, in your eyes, might be even prettier than the galaxy itself. Not that you'd ever say that to his face, of course.

***

As you tuck yourself into the spare bedroom you had to spend the day cleaning out (it was unknowingly used as a storage room for Rocket's stolen garbage), you notice that your typical sense of loneliness and dread is nowhere to be found. That homesickness you've been carrying for much longer than you'd left Earth has vanished completely, and you can't help but think it might have something to do with that handsome, snoring idiot who's in the room across from yours.

Notes: -2303 words -i'd love to make a sequel but its heavily dependent on how this first part performs! (that means you should like or reblog if u liked this ;)), without a part two this ones cute but on the underwhelming side imho -could be heavily out of character, I'm going almost exclusively off his voice lines in the game! feel free to shoot an ask recommending changes to the shot :) -nothing else to say, i love him so much <3

#marvel rivals #marvel rivals x reader #starlord x reader #star lord x reader #marvel x reader #starlord #star lord #peter quill x reader #x reader #reader insert

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barnesandbarton · 11 hours ago

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Clint shook his head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Not like you asked to be famous. Besides, it doesn’t really bother me that much. It’s just odd. You know? I mean - I suppose you’re also an Avenger now too, but it does feel weird that anyone would care about the adult daughter of a rich tech person who isn’t also in tech. I mean - ask me anything about Bill Gates’ kids. I couldn’t tell you. I know Tony had the press on his ass as a kid, but he was also his own shit going on. Inventing robots, going to college when he was a kid. Causing trouble that disgraced his parents. His parents dying while he was young and him taking over the company. Iron Man. You’re super low key.” He shrugged again. “I guess being polyamorous and Avengers must be something but we’re also in Spain. I didn’t even think anyone would know we were here.”

Bucky shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. Fact is we’re all a little interesting, and now we’re doing something very interesting. And that will have people talking. But it doesn’t matter what they say. We know how we feel and that’s what’s important.”

Ava looked at them and then down at her hands which she folded in her lap. “Well, my parents, as I’ve mentioned is tech people like Tony. And they worked along side Howard before he died. I didn’t want to do tech. So I got my own companies that support orphans and kids and adults in violent households with bringing them shelter and help to those who aren’t able to make it out of those situations on their own,” she spoke and nodded a bit.

“They want pictures simply because my parents are famous. Always have and always will,” she spoke and wrinkles her eyebrows a bit. “I’m sorry,” she spoke and nodded. “It’s not easy. I don’t want it but I just don’t have a choice. Luckily they don’t harass me as much anymore so I am able to do what I want since I’ve distanced myself but.. every now and then they pop up,” she spoke and took a breath fiddling her fingers.

#norabarnes143 #clint bucky ava #the unicorn

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dare-to-dm · 18 hours ago

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The few times I miss game night, my friends almost always take the opportunity to run an evil one shot because I'm the only person in our group who has no interest in that.

So this happened the other week, and when my friends were about to tell me all about it, I was like "Wait, I want to see if I can guess what kind of characters you guys played without being told."

The first three were easy. One of them is always having charismatic undead villains when he DMs, so I was like "Necromantic Liche Lord", which was correct.

The other is way into the idea of femme fatales and mind control, so I was like "Sexy Enchantress", which was spot on.

For the third I was like "You probably just reused your chain demon from that one campaign that went off the rails because it wasn't supposed to be an evil campaign, but you played a chain demon". I'm 3 for 3 at this point.

The fourth friend I was like "I'm not really sure what you would have played. But you generally go for lawful good characters when I'm around. And bruisers are your comfort zone when it comes to builds. So probably something lawful evil with a big fuck off sword". He was playing a hellknight, so I was pretty close.

For the final friend, I was like "I genuinely have no idea what you would have played, because like me you really like to mix it up from one campaign to the next. So I'm just going to say that if I had to play in an evil campaign, I would play a Pirate King type of character" and I guess he actually did play a pirate, so I was right for him too.

It just goes to show, evil is more predictable than good.

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flo-zoinks · 2 days ago

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How would the gang react if you reveal ur a time traveler

Okily dokily!!!!

HOW EACH RDR2 GNG MEMBER WOULD REACT TO YOU BEING A TIME-TRAVELER (MY OPINION)

This is VERY vague. So I'm going to imagine this scenario you're from 1920 USA with lots of inside info on the vld gang cuz theres more I can do w that lol, and a person similar to John in terms of age/likeness/physicality. Imagine this is aprx chap 2.

Arthur - probably not have many questions really, just ask you why you'd come to this time of all times (he thinks you're stupid)

Hosea - only asks if John finally left with his family, and if everything actually does fall to bits. Doesn't really care for asking how he dies himself - In fact he doesn't want you to tell him

Dutch - Immediately asks if he dies for an ideal, or if he becomes someone of great reverence post mortem. When he doesn't like the answer he says he can't be kept by the lines society has decided for him so will disobey and flee "like Cain was once he was shun"

Reverend - says you're either deep in substances or have demons in you. Insists you must be a satanic lunatic and leaves with his head up. Later drunk he reveals he worries you're real and asks if God ever gives him a chance

Pearson - "heh...lemme guess...I'm in the books..ain't I?" "Ok you're lying though"

Sadie - asks when she will die and see Jake, and (if before this) asks if she gets to avenge his death

Charles - questions only on the land, and if the colonists finally destroy all of it by then, and on behalf of the natives. Otherwise tells you he's not interested in what will be otherwise

Micah - knows he's in the history books, so just walks off trying to be nonchalant. "Then I guess you know who I am.." (hes really close and breathing quite loudly)

Abigail - forgets herself to bombard you with questions about Jack and John, if they ever move away, if Jack grows up proper and they live till old. She starts sobbing after

Jack (1907) - wants to know if he becomes a writer, then whilst embarrassed quietly asks if his Father stays for real this time. Later tells you about a book he read with a similar premise. Your answer makes him quiet and hee doesnt speak for a while

John - Can't even think of what to ask, so just says like "ok- do-" then says he'll get back to you when he has something good to ask. Later: "wait-wait I got a good one... (some stupid question about future inventions)"

Trelawny - "I am a magician, too! I suppose we are both similar as such.." however he gets too freaked out and goes back to his family for a while

Javier - IMMEDIATELY only wants to know about the Mexican Revolution; was it successful? Did his family live? Does he return to Mexico? He refuses to believe your answer about him in Mexico in 1911 working for the government, insisting he would never pick that over his own life. Refuses to believe John would be the one to kill him, too. Angrily storms off after threatening you if you spit lies like that again (even if you proved to him ur fr)

Bill - gets scared of you thinking you have some other powers too, but then tries to toughen up and look unafraid. Demands, asks to know if becomes respected and feared in the future. Air punches when he hears he runs his own gang, then just looks straight up HURT hearing John kills him (trying to mask it) "But why wouldn't we be friends?"

Uncle - "you should be well aware then...of when the Lumbago gets to me.. where in the history books is that?"

Molly - quietly asks if everyone grows to like her (very embarrassed). She gets silent after your answer and goes to sit far away in camp for a while. Dutch later says to you that "you better not have put her in some mood"

Karen - says shes too sober for this, promptly grabs a drink and tells you she doesn't have anything to ask, but wishes she did. Avoids you afterwards fearing she was too open with you then.

Tilly - asks if she has a run-in with the foreman boys again. Otherwise then that she asks what cool things have been invented since

Mary-Beth - fascinated by future books, and asks if you have a novel from the future you could show her. She doesn't believe she could ever be a writer so doesn't ask.

Grimshaw - thinks you're a freak for coming here, saying "we are doing just fine! She does inquire about her girls though, if they all do well. She grows very strict with Karen there on, but also nicer

Sean - "do I become the big dog of the camp? Replace ol' king Arthur? Hahaha" a string of random questions , giving you no time to answer each one. He actually walks off before you can answer them thinking of more questions

Lenny - starts thinking if its okay to know about the future before responding, if theres no consequences, or if we as people should be able to. Decides he's better safe then sorry, and asks camp to be responsible. Dutch and him debate this

Kieran - asks if they finally accept him, and if the O'Driscolls come back. Grows very anxious at your response and spends the day cleaning the horses whilst trying to gather his thoughts to act upon.

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croxxbow13 · 3 days ago

Text

The Sweet One

Warnings: language, mentions of violence and mild adult thoughts.

Takes place during Alexandria era. Just some musings as you’re trying to adjust to this new, impossible way of life… and trying to make sense of Daryl’s intoxicating presence.

A/N: Honestly, I’m not sure what this is. I just opened my notes app and just started putting words down. Will do a part 2 if theres any interest.

Please be gentle with me, its my first time.

It’d been three weeks since our group had stumbled into the walls of Alexandria, dirty, dehydrated and half starved.

Everyone had done the best they could to settle in, though it still felt like most of us were still holding our breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Places like this didn’t exist anymore.

At least, not for long.

We all slept in the same house, hell the same room for the first few nights, not wanting to let our guard down. The floor a patchwork of arms and legs and blankets, while the beds lay empty in their vaulted ceiling bedrooms.

After the things we’d experienced on the road, how could we not? Cannibals, rapist, psychopaths that tried to take us down, slaughtering their whole communities in the process without so much as a flicker of remorse.

I remember one night on the road, everyone sitting around the fire, Daryl said that the world really hadn’t changed all that much. People had always been shit. Now they were just more open about it. There was no reason they could see to keep those terrible things inside.

No reason to fear hell when we’re already there.

And now, to look into these strange smiling faces offering promises of food, walls, shelter… hot showers?

I stuck close to Carol for a while, trying to keep a low profile, putting on a nice face, but all the while keeping my ears tuned to the low whispers, the quiet conversations in adjoining rooms, listening, waiting for someone to slip up. To show the other side of the coin, but they never did.

It didn’t take long working in the small confines of the kitchen and pantry to feel like the walls were closing in on me. The daily droning of bored housewives going on about their ridiculous reasons to be at odds with their husbands, or gossiping about this person or that person… cackling together like a bunch of restless hens.

It reminded me too much of the old world. And I’d rather use an ice pick as a q-tip.

But thankfully, after some convincing - and maybe a little bit of begging - Aaron finally agreed to let me help with scavenging. He said that he, Daryl, Glenn and a few of the Alexandrians were going to be checking out a warehouse tomorrow a few towns over. Something about an old cargo depot.

I couldn’t give a shit less, as long as it gets me outside these walls for a little while.

I never thought it would be hard to transition back into some semblance of normalcy… but I feel like we’re all just kind of playing house. The people in this community have just as many dirty secrets as the people out there. The only difference is theirs is hidden behind neatly manicured hedges and eggshell tinted semi-gloss paint.

I’m sitting on the steps of Carol’s house when she returns home from another’s day work.

I say Carol’s house, but I guess it’s also mine and also Daryl’s. Though I’m pretty sure his residence here was just a given whereas I actually asked Carol if she minded that I stayed here.

Rick and Michonne have their whole family dynamic thing going on with Carl and Judith, so I would just feel like a fifth wheel.

Abraham and Rosita had room… but after being on the road with them and realizing how obnoxiously loud they are during sex… and don’t even get me started with fucking Eugene. I swear to God, when he starts rambling off at the mouth with his overinflated self importance. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve imagined cutting off that ratty ass mullet and gagging him with it. My luck though that would just add more material to his mental spank bank that he would recall as he’s beatin’ one out watching his compadres going at it.

I hate that I think about these things, and I hate that I have a vivid imagination because I immediately feel the bile rise in my throat, taste the acidic disgust on the back of my tongue.

I must’ve made a face because Carol stops and looks at me before she makes it to the steps.

“Well I’m glad to see you too.” She says, fighting back a sarcastic laugh.

I shake my head, trying to be reassuring while I’m still fighting the churn of my stomach.

“I’m sorry, just been a long day.” I say, giving her a lopsided smile. She puts a steadying hand on my knee as she swings around and takes the space on the step beside me.

She unbuttons her muted green sweater, or should I say her chosen costume of the day, and pushes up the sleeves. Usually she waits until she’s made it into the front door before she goes through her “becoming Carol” ritual that Daryl and I tease her about most nights.

We give her shit, but I gotta give it to her. She’s smart.

Seeing her now, It’s crazy to think of the transformation she’s undergone since I first met her back at the quarry. Back then she was so… small. And quiet. And just scared all the time. And I get it. Being beaten day in and day out by the person who should be your biggest sense of security will do that to you. Hell, the end of the world was probably the best thing that ever happened to her.

Daryl, too. Granted, he doesn’t talk much about his life before. But from witnessing his toxic ass relationship with his brother, I can only imagine that home for him was never really much of a home. And I’ve seen the scars. At least some of them. He didn’t get those from learning to ride a bike.

Dad was probably a drinker with no outlet for his anger. And Merle was probably old enough and big enough to at least get away from him eventually. I don’t know how much younger Daryl is, or was than Merle. But if I had to guess there was probably a solid 10 years that Daryl would’ve had to fend for himself. And Merle said it…

He was always the sweet one, my baby brother…

It’d made me so angry how he had said it so condescendingly. Like it was something to be shameful about. Like it was a weakness that should be hidden away. Because “real” men don’t show emotion.

Fuck him. I’ve literally watched Daryl rip out vocal cords with his bare fucking hands. And his arms… jesus christ, his arms.

Apparently I just sighed because now Carol has turned her attention towards me again. I clear my throat brushing non-existent dirt off the knees of my jeans.

“Want me to start on dinner?” I ask her, hoping the flush I feel creeping up my neck isn’t obvious.

She gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s ok, I ate a little something before I left work. Daryl might be hungry when he gets in though, if you’re wanting to make something. I think we’ve still got stuff for some spaghetti.”

And then as if conjured up from the depths, Daryl turns onto the street from the way of the front gate, the sounds of his boots thudding lightly against the pavement.

Daryl didn’t walk, it was more a saunter if anything. That one hand always gripping the strap of his crossbow that laid across his chest, the other swinging by his side, always a little wider than necessary.

I wonder sometimes if he’s aware of how much space he takes up at any given moment. Though I could never bring myself to ask him, because then he’d want to know what I meant. And I had no intention of letting him know how small he made rooms feel when I’m in one with him.

He’d probably take it the wrong way and go brood in the woods for a few days.

That sweet baby brother.

I’m self admittedly pretty terrible at recognizing when someone’s flirting with me.

But Daryl… Daryl. Fucking. Dixon. Takes the cake with that one.

At times I wonder if he’s actually had any kind of intimate interaction whatsoever. And, oh to have been a fly on the wall…

Doesn’t mean I can’t try though, right?

I mean, it can’t be completely one sided. I’ve caught him stealing glances when he thinks he’s out of my line of sight. I mean, christ, we live in the same house together.

And god so help me, for as long as I live I will never forget the look on his face when I came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel because he’d come back from a run early. I had my face down, trying to towel dry the rest of my hair and he rounded the corner as I was stepping into the hallway and I basically face planted his chest. It took him about three syllables worth of his sentence, his hands gripping my arms to keep me from stumbling backwards, before he realized that that single layer of cotton that hit just a little too high on my thighs was the only thing saving us from an even more awkward situation.

His eyes went wide as he’d snatched his hands away like he’d been burned. And the color that immediately flushed his cheeks made me want to sink my teeth into the vein that pulsed too quickly in the side of his throat as he dropped his head and retreated out the front door.

Damn… Im starting to sound like one of them.

“Perfect timing! Your ears must’ve been burning!” Carol’s chipper tone pulls me once again from my thoughts, though this time it’s not as welcome. Daryl’s boots scuff against the sidewalk as he comes to a stop in front of us.

“What d’ya mean?” He says, his voice gruff as his gaze bounces between the two of us. I’m still fighting off visuals of lips and teeth and tongues, so I just raise my eyebrows and shake my head, doing my best to avoid meeting his eyes.

“We were talking about dinner, you hungry?” Thanks, Carol.

Daryl shakes his head and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Nah. Not really.”

“Alright, well I’m going to go shower, that way you can get yours whenever you get ready.” Carol stood and turned for the door, giving me a small pat on the shoulder as she crossed the porch and disappeared into the house.

I looked at him then, and thankfully his attention was somewhere down the street.

The sharp orange streaks of light from the setting sun highlighted the beads of sweat on his brow, and judging by the dirt that clung to his arms and clothes, they’d had an eventful day.

Good. He always seemed to be in a better mood those days.

He was chewing on his bottom lip, as he always did when he was working a thought over in his mind. And I figure its as good a time as any to snap him out of it. Before he turns and I’m just staring at him like a fucking weirdo.

“Aaron’s letting me come with you guys tomorrow. Said that it’d be a good time for me to come along and see how you guys work together.”

He nodded slowly before he turned his eyes to me. “Yeah, he told me.” He slid his crossbow over his head and leaned it against the step railings before sitting down on the landing next to me.

And true enough, it now felt half the size as when Carol was sitting there.

“It’ll be good for ya,” he said, pulling at a string that hung loose on his glove. “Get out there an outta here for a while.” As he said it, his eyes scanned the other houses in the neighborhood… still looking for the cracks. For the slip of the stage props.

Maybe we’re not so different.

My eyes follow his gaze. And when I speak, it’s lower… only meant for us.

“You’re still looking for it too.” I say. It’s not a question. He turns his head and looks at me now. The dirt smudge across his cheek brings out the blue in his eyes.

His response is more of a grunt than a word. He wants to know what I’m talking about. Even though he already knows what I’m talking about. He just wants to hear me say it.

“You’re looking for the strings. For the wizard behind the curtain. This place can’t be as perfect as it looks from the outside. There’s something… there’s gotta be.”

He slowly nods and I know that he’s starting to realize the same thing…

Maybe we’re not so different.

The sun has finally dipped below the horizon. I can only tell because that first faintly cool breeze that precedes the darkness is creeping between the houses now. And thanks to it, I’m now aware of the heat I feel radiating off of him. I didn’t realize that my arm was that close to his. Even through his jeans I can feel the warmth of his legs on the steps beside mine.

Why are my fucking ears hot?

And why do I have to fight the urge to lean over and lick the sweat off his neck.

Can you imagine the look on his face?

Stop. Stop.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I need to get up and go inside before I embarrass myself and just have to go knock on the door of the love nest and ask if I can big spoon Eugene.

Fuck that.

And then he bumps his shoulder against mine and suddenly I have no escape plan. I actually don’t plan on going anywhere. I actually would probably have to be pried off this step.

“Come on, we’ve got an early day tomorrow.” He says, and I can feel the words vibrate through my chest. He stands and grabs his crossbow, but he doesn’t sling it across his back like he usually does. He just holds it by his side, stretching out his other hand to offer me help up.

Sweet little baby brother

Naturally I go against my better judgment. Of course I do. I reach up and grab his hand and with little effort, he hauls me up and I’m now even more aware of how effortless he could just pick me up and snap me in half.

Or pin me against a wall.

Stop.

We’re toe to toe, though on different steps, which only adds to the way he’s towering over me. But I can feel his warmth. I can smell the sweet tanginess of his sweat that’s saturated his shirt. The earthy smell of the dirt.

He takes a step back, which part of me is thankful for. As I should be.

I know that if I ever genuinely made a pass at him. And it wasn’t reciprocated, things would probably never be the same between us. I wouldn’t be able to look at him. And he would probably never put himself in a position to be within arms reach of me again. Be it from fear or embarrassment or just the typical, awkward Daryl.

And I don’t want that.

But god damned, I want him.

Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

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