#im on my giant old laptop with a cracked screen /:

[fervidus]

please i'm fighting myself tooth and nail to have writing motivation and finally getting a little somewhere and my laptop charging port says nah fam

[dramallamadingdang]

Question Meme: The Run-on Sentence Edition

Hi! I hurt myself again yesterday. No, not in an "self-harm" kind of way but more in the usual (for me) "mountain-climbing incident" sort of way (I hate scree; I was so close to that summit) and got lots of deep bruises and lacerations for my troubles and was in a world of hurt by the time I saw a doctor, and I cracked something that isn't supposed to be cracked and it all hurts enough that I got prescribed narcotics again for a week and I really, really hate narcotics but I really, really like to be able to breathe without feeling like my lungs are being ripped to shreds, so...narcotics it is. 

It might make the answers to this latest iteration of Ye Olde Question Meme rather entertaining, though. Maybe. Maybe just incoherent. Well, whatever, @nekosayuri tagged me, so it's her fault, and I'm bored and my sleep schedule's all outta whack and I haven't even turned on my Simming computer in like three days and am posting this from a non-Simming laptop, so I have nothing else to post and....yeah. So, I'm like high as a kite right now. I mean, it's not totally unusual because I live in Colorado and weed's legal here, but narcotics is a totally different and much less coherent high for me. So, like, fair warning.

I'm not tagging anyone, though. I've no idea who's done this lately...

Name: Katrina

Zodiac Sign: I don't know why I answer this because astrology is a huge crock of BS, but everyone always wants to know so...Taurus. Barely. (Birthday is April 23.)

Height: Still ~6'0"/~182cm. Yay, not shrinking yet!

Languages Spoken: Fluently? At this point, only English. I used to be pretty fluent in Italian and German, but, you know, the saying "use it or lose it" applies, and since I've not had occasion to use those languages much....Well, there we are. I could speak quite a bit of Russian at one time because I spent a chunk of years there, in the late 80s when it was the Soviet Union and shortly thereafter when things were sorta nuts there. But, again, I have lost much of what I once knew. And there are smatterings of other languages that I can speak mostly-useless bits of. I can ask where the restroom is in many languages because I've traveled a lot. :) I do speak fluent bullshit, though...

Nationality: 'Murican. And since 'Muricans are really, really into their "ancestry" for some bizarre-o reason because ‘Murican apparently isn’t good enough...Like, 95% dirty Welsh peasantry (plus some Irish and Scottish thrown in for flavor) on the paternal side and on the maternal side....Well, one of my great-grandfathers was a first cousin of the English Queen Victoria. So basically, my maternal ancestry is the very confused inbred multinational mutt that is European Aristocracy. God only knows what’s in their genes, though my particular bit of it has lots o’ German. 

Favorite Fruit: Okra. It is a fruit. Look it up. Then again, much of what people call "vegetables" is, in fact, fruits, so there's that.

Favorite Scent: I've never really thought about this except when this was a question on a previous iteration of this meme that I did, and I don't remember what answer I came up with then. So I'm just gonna say...Vanilla-scented candles. Not cheap ones that just smell sickly-sweet sort-of-vanilla-y, but these ones that I buy online that smell...well...NOT sickly-sweet and like how vanilla really smells. Alternatively...snickerdoodles when they're baking. Hubby is baking me some snickerdoodles as I speak. Type. Whatever. The house smells really good. Baking bread is good, too. Before the snickerdoodles, hubby was baking the twice-weekly loaf of sourdough.

Favorite Color: Green. And/or orange. I go back and forth about which is really my favorite.

Favorite Animal: Elephants. Or hyenas. Or cats of all shapes/sizes. Or alpacas. Or llamas. Or snakes. Or spiders of all kinds. Or dragonflies. Or...Um, yeah,  I'm pretty much a fan of all vertebrates and terrestrial invertebrates and some aquatic/oceanic invertebrates, too, so...take your pick.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate? Hot chocolate all the way. I don't drink coffee because A) I think it tastes and smells disgusting, but even if that wasn't the case B) I can't have caffeine. Tea is OK. Hubby's way into herbal tea, grows/collects and dries herbs and makes his own blends and shit, and I'll drink it mostly to make him happy, but I'm not into it. I do like hot chocolate, though it's hard to find premade mixes that don’t have powdered milk in them (because I’m vegan), so I generally have to make it from scratch, so to speak, and when I do I use cashew milk as the base and I usually add either peppermint or vanilla extract for zing.

Favorite Fictional Character: Can't really pick a fave. So, have a list, probably but perhaps not really in preference order. Spock from Star Trek, who's been a fave of mine since I was 3 and was watching the original Trek in its initial run, and I announced I'd marry Spock one day. Rodney McKay from Stargate: Atlantis and Vala Mal Doran from Stargate SG-1. (Basically, if you cut up those two and glue various bits of their characters together -- and not necessarily their good bits -- you have...me. So I relate really well to both of them, so I like 'em.) Also Jack O'Neill from Stargate SG-1, but he's mostly for reasons of estrogen. (Especially if you stick 'im in dress blues. HUBBA!) Garak from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine because Cardassians Are Love. Jayne from Firefly, also for reasons of estrogen. Big, hairy, dark hair, blue eyes, solid but not too muscle-y...Yep, that's how I likes my men. And Zoe from Firefly, 'cuz OMG she's how I likes my women. HUBBA!

Dream Trip: *sigh* Still Antarctica. It's the only continent I've not been to, and I will get there before I croak, but...not yet.

When was your blog created? IIRC, it was, like, the middle of December 2013. So, I'll have had this thing 5 years soon.

Last Movie You’ve Seen: I couldn't sleep one day like a week ago, so I put on Miss Congeniality, which is one of my favorite movies because Michael Caine. When I can't sleep, I'll usually put on a really familiar movie or TV show and it lulls me to sleep, but it didn't work that time. :(

Song You’ve Had on Repeat: Englishman in New York, by Sting. I have no idea why, but it's been on repeat in my head, though I haven't actually played it lately or anything.

Favorite Candy: Not much of a sweets kind of person. I prefer salty-crunchy. I can eat a whole big bag of crisps (Like, the British ones, which are way better than American potato chips, but American ones will do) easily, but I can't even get through a whole candy bar because, ew, too sweet. That said, I do like Flake bars, but I have to go up to Canada to get 'em. Or else buy 'em online but then usually by the time I get them they're kinda smashed. Or melted. Or both. Better to go up to Canada. Where they have real chocolate and not this sickly-sweet Hershey's crap. *shudder*

Favorite Holiday: When in Canada, Canada Day is quite fun. It's like July 4th only not so...well...chest-beatingly, yahoo-y, "patriotic" 'Murican. (I really, really dislike nationalism and "patriotism" in general but especially the obnoxious 'Murican brand of it.) When in the UK, I have a fondness for Guy Fawkes Night. I guess I like fire and fireworks and things that go boom and shit, only without the "YAY AMERICA!" yelling of America's own "things that go boom" holiday. Other than that...Can't really say I'm into 'em much. They're not even "days off from work" since...Well, I've never had a "real job," and I'm pretty much retired from my unreal job these days.

Last Book You’ve Read: *cough* Does a really long and smutty and slashy Stargate: Atlantis fanfic count? I'm sad to say that, though I was a voracious reader of books when I was younger, I'm really not so much these days. Haven't been for the last decade or so, really. Not of actual books, at least. I do subscribe to and read a number of academic journals, some having to do with science and medicine and some having to do with history, but they're not books. 

Favorite TV Show: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, mostly because it has Cardassians, who are all uniformly awesome, plus all the gritty political and religious goodness and stuff. Except that its last season kinda sucked and did totally WTF things with my second-favorite Cardassian. Close runner-up would be Stargate: Atlantis. Except that its last kinda season sucked, too, and did totally WTF things with McKay, so hmmm. Stargate SG-1 is good, too, except that half its team annoys the piss outta me...although this is largely made up for by the hotness that is Jack O'Neill so there's that. I like Firefly a lot but it was so short-lived that it's hard to really be a favorite because I can watch the whole thing, including the movie, in less than a day. (And believe me. I have.) I like the other Star Treks, too, especially if I'm in the mood for the "goofy soap opera in space" that is Voyager. TNG's shiny-happy Roddenberryness kinda bores the piss outta me, though it does have a few really good episodes, and the original show...Hmmm...Well, I both love and hate it. I love Spock, as I said, and I also love McCoy and all of its secondary characters. The problem is that I hate Kirk. Like, viscerally hate him. Like, I want to punch his face in every time it's on-screen. If he'd just, y'know, been eaten by a salt vampire and Spock and everyone else was OK and went off and had cool space adventures battling giant space-going amoebas and shit, I'd be totally happy and that's what fanfic's for *cough*, but since Kirk doesn't get eaten by a salt vampire...well...

Who’d You Most Like to Have Lunch With? @holleyberry :) Dude, we should totally hook up (No, not THAT way!) when I'm in SoCal next. Which won't be soon if I have my way, but when I am there....

[phandomsecretvalentines]

(darling don't be afraid) i will love you

Happy late-vday-early-bday @ryn-exe (can’t tag?)!!! Hope u enjoy, soz if it’s not good but i’m not so amazing(phil)

This is 2.1k words. There’s a bit of dream-violence (not in detail) and a lot of anxiety and fear so if u don’t like that stuff!! Tell me!!!! And i’ll write something else for you, i don’t mind. (You didn’t say anything i wasn’t supposed to write but idk). I’d describe this as hurt/comfort i think lmaooo

Basic summery i wrote fo myself: Dan and Phil, and how they deal with each other’s 3am fears (2009 vs 2018, now)

From a pitch-hitter 💓💓

——

[Saturday; 10.26.09; 03:37]

——

Dan<33 (03:37): phil? :[

Phil (03:45): Yrha

Phil (03:47): Sorry!! Yeah**

Phil (03:47): Why are you up so early/late?? I barely woke up

Dan<33 (03:49): sorry i woke you :/

Dan<33 (03:50): my parents went away for a bit and i’m home alone and i cant turn off the lights cuz im too scared

Dan<33 (03:51): and i can’t sleep so bad even hugging pillow cant help mee :[[

Dan<33 (03:52): so im sitting in the hallway with every light im the house on alone in just my pants

Dan<33 (03:52): and i was a idiot and missed you so i woke you up at so late and now ur gonna hate me crap

Dan<33 (03:52): sorry

Phil (03:53): I’ll never ever hate you dan!!! <<33333333333333

Phil (03:53): I’m sorry ur so scared :[[ I wish I was there to be strong and protect u again

Dan<33 (03:54): i wish you were here too

Phil (03:54): :[ <3

Dan<33 (03:58): CDAP PHIL I THINK I HESRF A GHOST

Dan<33 (03:58): IR MONSTER

Dan<33 (03:58): FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

Phil (03:59): Dan oh my gosh are you okay??

Dan<33 (04:00): yeah i think but

Dan<33 (04:00): i heard something phil

Dan<33 (04:01): im scared

Dan<33 (04:02): i can’t believe im 18 and i’m actually sobbing out of fear alone and naked in a hallway over a fucking noise

Dan<33 (04:02): to my boyfriend

Dan<33 (04:02): on skype

Dan<33 (04:03): fuck

Phil (04:03): Dan :[[ i’m so sorry

Dan<33 (04:04): it’s not your fault

Phil (04:04): Want me to call you??? (If u want)

Dan<33 (04:05): can we skype instead?

Dan<33 (04:05): i want to see your face plz <3

Dan<33 (04:05): if thats okay

Phil (04:06): That’s fine! One sec plz :]

——

[Phil would like to add Dan<33 to a call (02:33)]

[Accept] [Decline]

[Accepted]

——

When Dan answered the call, his face was red and puffed and wet. Even through the crap-pixel screen quality, Phil could see that.

“Hey,” Dan’s voice broke.

“Hi,”

Dan was shaking slightly.

His face suddenly flushed, “Oh shit, I forgot – I’m, uh, in only pants. In front of you. Crap.”

“It’s fine, I’ve seen you shirtless before.” Phil smiled what he hoped was reassuringly, ��Are you okay?”

“Yeah — I mean, I am now. I guess.”

“Are you cold?”

“Kinda.” Dan admitted.

“Want to go to bed?”

“My room is too dark –”

“Well, I’ll be there, wont I? And I’ll protect you from everything bad in the dark.”

“You’re not really here.”

“Only ever a few hours away. And if worst comes to worst, I have the police line and the monster-killer line. So you’ll be super safe.”

Dan muffled a giggle, “Yeah, okay.”

He shuffled up off the floor, and made his way into his bedroom, clutching the laptop tightly.

“I dunno if I’m getting any sleep tonight, honestly.”

“You will! You can cuddle your pillow and I’ll tell you stories until the demons go away and you can sleep.”

“I’m not five, Phil.” There was no malice in his reply.

“You don’t need to be five for any of that to be true.” Phil said, serious tone.

“Okay,”

Minutes later, Dan was snuggled under his covers; hugging a pillow tightly as he listened to Phil go on about some guy at the market.

“Then, he pulled a hot dog out of his left pocket. Who keeps a single —”

“Phil?” Dan interrupted, his voice was dripping with sleep.

“Mm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No.” Phil answered simply.

“I mean – for being so scared of such dumb stuff. Seven-year-olds are braver than me.”

“It’s okay to have fears, Dan. I bet you’re not the only adult with those fears either,”

“I’m scared of the dark. And ghosts and monsters and moths and demons and –”

“– and that’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“And it’s not annoying to deal with? I’m not?”

“You will never be annoying to ‘deal with’; I promise.”

Phil meant it.

——

[Monday; 12.07.09; 02:59]

——

Phil :]]]<333333 (02:59): Dan?

Dan (03:00): yeah??? <3

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:03): I’m scared

Dan (03:04): of what :[[

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:04): I dunno it’s just creaky downstairs and I’m alone for the night I guess

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:04): Nvm

Dan (03:05): no tell me i want to help u

Dan (03:05): plz

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:07): Well it’s just that

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:08): It’s really dark and windy

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:08): And there was a tree snapping against my window I thought our house might’ve blown down

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:09): And I thought i heard thunder which usually isn'tn too bad but right now its scaring me a bit

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:10): I don’t wanna be alone rn is all

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:10): But i am brave! So it’ll be okay i think

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:10): Don’t worry about me <33

Dan (03:11): i want to worry :[

Dan (03:11): you don’t always have to be brave <333 ily and i would give you the biggest hug if i were there

Dan (03:12): and tell the trees and thnder to fuck off and let you sleep

Dan (03:12): and then we would sleep all cuddled up togerher like we do sometimes and it would be warm and nice

Dan (03:14): i wish i were there with you

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:15): You will be someday so it’s okay now too :]

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:15): But plz tell the trees and thunder to fuck off it’s very loud :’[[[

Dan (03:16): if u call me i will????

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:17): Lol okay :p

——

[Incoming call from Dan]

[Accepted]

——

“Hi!” Dan really should be quieter; last time he called Phil at three in the morning his dad had yelled at him.

“Hi,” Phil’s sleep-laced voice answered.

A booming crack of thunder, and a whimper.

“Don’t worry – it… won’t hurt you.” Despite everything, Dan was sometimes still quite new to the role of 'comfort’ in their relationship.

“I know, just loud.”

Dan wished he was like Phil. He wished he could just pull out an intresting story, a funny idea.

“Sorry.”

He wasn’t like Phil, though.

“Want to play a game?”

“What game could we possibly play through a phone call?” Dan could practically hear Phil rolling his eyes.

Dan wracked his brain for quick ideas.

“Eye-Spy?”

“We’re… not in the same room Dan.”

“Yeah, true.”

Dan’s room suddenly felt rather empty and uninteresting.

Dan felt empty and uninteresting.

“What do you want me to do?” He finally muttered.

He held his breath.

“I just like hearing your voice, it calms me down. I like when you rant about things you love.”

Let it out.

“Oh. Well – want to hear my never-ending thoughts on WALL-E then?”

“Definitely.”

——

[Sunday; 02.04.18; 04:12]

——

“Phil?”

“Mhm?” He rolled over and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “What’re you doing up?”

“There was a moth.”

“A moth?”

“Yes!” Dan looked around the room nervously, rolling on his heels, “It’s in the lounge somewhere and I can’t sleep knowing it’s out there — lurking.”

Phil groaned.

“Fucking kill it! Or set it free, I dunno. I just need it gone.”

“You are truly the perfect mix of 'needy child’ and 'angry businessman’, Danny.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mm, lemme get a cup then.”

Phil shoved on his glasses and stumbled out of bed into the kitchen, Dan following closely behind.

“Where was it again?” He asked, grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard.

They hadn’t really drank much alcohol these past few years– since Dan had gone on antidepressents— but they still always kept the glasses, to drink Ribena and seem fancy.

“No! You’ll need a bigger cup, it’s huge.” He whined.

“Okay,” he grabbed another glass, “where is it?”

“In the lounge last I saw.”

“I’ll go look, you get a piece of paper.”

Genuine terror painted over Dan’s face, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Christ’s sake Dan, it’s a moth, not an armed burglar. I think you’ll live.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Now, just go a minute.”

He then ventured into the lounge, still half-drowned by sleep, when he heard a shriek.

“Dan?”

“Phil! Fucking help!”

Anyone else might’ve thought Dan was being held at gunpoint from the panicked way he was yelling.

“Coming!”

He went into the hall; Dan was standing there, paralysed with fear, as a giant moth flew circles around him. He had tears threatening to fall.

“Oh dear,”

Phil went over to the closet and grabbed a broom, spent a few go’s waving it around– and almost hitting Dan in the process— before smacking it head on.

“Aw, now I feel bad for killing it,” He whispered.

Dan was on the floor now, shaking, tears stained down his cheeks. He was in only pants.

And Phil was there.

“Well, the moth’s gone now isn’t it?” He crouched down next to Dan, putting his hands gently on his shoulders.

“Mmm,” Dan had his head tucked in his knees.

“Are you okay?”

Silence.

“That’s fine. Want me to make you some tea?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, in the kitchen, with dried cheeks; “I can’t believe how much of a wimp I am.”

The kettle rang, and Phil took it off the stove carefully.

“No —”

“I know, I know, my therapist told me. 'It’s never weak to have fears’. But I cried over a fucking moth. In our hallway. It’s late and –”

“– and that’s okay.”

“It’s not okay Phil!”

“It’s fine in the moment, that’s what I mean.”

He grabbed a NASA mug, and poured the boiling water in a teapot.

“I must be exhausting.”

Phil dropped in a teabag.

He still remembered. It was a promise made at 4am; a promise over Skype to a more-than-slightly-terrified eighteen year old.

A promise made to a bunch of pixel’s with a name and a face and fear.

A promise his Dan probably didn’t even remember, honestly.

“No, I promised that much.”

“Mhm,”

He poured the tea.

“So, two sugars or three?”

“Two.”

——

[Friday; 02.16.18; 05:12]

——

Dan was on the sofa; snuggled up in blankets and watching the winter Olympics through his small Iphone screen. His eyes were heavy, he yawned.

Their bedroom door squeaked opened.

“Hey,” Phil spoke quietly.

“Up so late?”

“You’re up too.”

“Well — I’m watching the Olympics. You know it’s on late in the UK.”

“Alright.” Phil shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and leaving the cupboard door wide open.

“Why are you awake?”

“Just another nightmare, s'fine.”

“Then why did you come out here?”

His voice might’ve been read as upset – he was just tired. Half the time Dan honestly didn’t mean to come off so rude.

“Dunno,”

“What was it about?”

“Uh — I think my family was trapped, you included, and I was the only person who could save them. But I had to do something… I think, I had to open a lock to somewhere? But I was too nervous. I saw everyone die; I knew it was my fault. I saw – you know, blood. Not too much. But it’s fine.”

As he spoke, he went over to the sink and got a glass of water, adding iced-cubes; his tone was unnaturally cool and casual.

“But I heard your skull shatter –”

“What the fuck —”

“Sorry! You asked though.”

“No – I mean, that’s horrible. Jesus christ, are you okay?”

Phil shrugged, “It happens, it’s okay though. Just a dream.”

It was only at that moment Dan noticed Phil’s eyes were a little too redded, his words a little bit shaky.

Phil started back to their room.

“Are you going back to sleep?”

“Probably.” His reply was tired.

“Oh – uh, well, why don’t you stay with me and watch the Olympics? I know you’ve never really cared, not your thing, but still I think that —”

“Sure! I’ll stay, yeah.” Phil quickly answered.

“Okay.”

Phil put his glass of water back down on the counter, and walked over to the sofa. Dan opened up his blanket fort and invited Phil in.

“These are the men’s single runs.”

“Mhm,” Phil nuzzled his head into Dan’s neck, which usually would’ve bothered him, but he didn’t mind so much.

A few minutes pass, “So what’s that guy supposed to be doing? I need your commentary; you know.”

I just like hearing your voice, it calms me down.

“Well, that’s the Japanese lead skater, which means —”

[jooheonies]

SinglesMingle.com

Character(s): Reader X Changkyun, bestfriend!jooheon

Genre: fluff, borderline!crack

Warning(s): scientist!changkyun (is that a warning), online dating, bad humor

Length: 3.2k

Summary: In which your best friend sets you up for an online dating site and maybe it’s not so bad when you meet a  scientist by the name of Lim Changkyun.

There’s a reason you don’t let Jooheon touch your laptop. Aside from the porn sites (and the numerous viruses acquired from them) he’s not to be trusted alone. You’ve known this since the third grade when he came over for a playdate and ended up drinking a bottle of Elmer’s glue while you went to the bathroom because he was too shy to ask for water.

He can’t be trusted.

So when he comes over a lazy Sunday morning and props his feet up your coffee, pressing his fingertips together as a slow smile stretches across his face, you know something must be up.

“You did WHAT?” You scream, the mug of tea in your hands slipping through unsteady fingers and dripping onto your clean rug. Not that you even notice, what with how much your eye is twitching and your fists are clenching, because goddamnit Lee Jooheon is not to be trusted.

“I signed you up,” he breathes, eyes sparkling with excitement, “for a dating site!” He claps gleefully as he finishes his sentence, dimples deep and smile wide.

You rake your hand through your hair in frustration, eyebrows snapping together. “Why would you do–”

“Because you’re turning into one of those old cat ladies, but with dogs,” Jooheon explains, smile still wide, “and it’s turning you into a real meanie so I think you should get out there.” He furrows his eyebrows for a second and rubs his chin. “Get laid,” he adds as an afterthought.

You glare at him, teeth gritted. “I am perfectly fine being single.”

“Maybe you should try to mingle,” he replies, eyebrows waggling.

Jooheon pulls out his phone, clicking through the fifty tabs he has pulled up on his internet browser.

“So I was looking up porn on your laptop when I came over last week–”

“I told you to stop doing that!”

“–and I saw all the pictures of your dogs that you have saved as your wallpaper and I realized you live a sad, sad life–”

“It’s not sad! I like my dogs!”

Jooheon stops talking, rolling his eyes and shooting you an incredulous look.

“You named one of them Doggo.”

“It’s a good name!”

He wrinkles his nose and drops his phone onto the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a dog and you named it Doggo and you named the other Pupper.”

“Get out of my house.”

Jooheon cackles and scooches closer, nuzzling into your arm, phone back in his grip. “You love me. Moving on, I made an account for you and you’re going to fill your profile in with me or I’m setting you up with Son Hyunwoo from Human Resources.”

You groan, head tipping back to rest on the back of your sofa. Son Hyunwoo is . . . interesting. He once thought the fire alarm in the break room was broken so he set the Hoseok’s cactus on fire to test it. It resulted in the entire office having to deal with a forced evacuation and coming back to the smell of burning cactus and smoke that continues to linger in the air seven months later. 

Hoseok held a funeral in the parking lot and cried for two months over the loss, and to this day, he still sniffles every time he sees the corner it used to sit in. Hyunwoo is interesting.

“I’m not going to date Hyunwoo,” you groan, picking at your nails.

“Then let’s get your profile going!” He exclaims, doing a little jig where he sits.

“No, you can’t make me–”

“I used your credit card.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, anger flaring. “You what? How did you even get that?”

Jooheon scuttles to the other end of the couch, hands raised defensively and tosses his phone towards you.

“Woah, man, I’m just trying to help my best friend get laid.”

“Yeah, and you might die before you get to see it happen.”

“Look,” he sighs, grimacing a little as he tries to force a smile on his face, “I think it would help if you just loosened up a bit–”

“Get. Out.” You fling the phone back at him and stand. “I’m cancelling the account so get out, loser. I never want to see you again.”

Jooheon groans and stands, brushing imaginary crumbs off his pants. “You haven’t heard the last of this,” he says, pointing a finger at your face. And with that, he stalks out the door, whistling and swinging his hips.

Unfortunately, it turns out that Jooheon was more or less right. Monday night finds you sitting cross legged on your bed, scrolling through the dating website, singlesmingle.com of all names. You had originally logged on to figure out how to cancel an account but two little pings echo in your silent room when you sign in and it peaks your interest.

The little message box in the corner has a little red bubble in the corner and you wrestle with the decision of clicking on it for a good five minutes before you cave. When you open the page, two users pop up.

Your options are limited to science_is_my_kokoro and hamsta-luv.

The next three minutes are spent with you wondering what kind of fucking website Lee Jooheon signed you up for.

The first message, from hamsta-luv, is creepy, for lack of a better word. It consists of a single smiley face and a tongue emoji. You slowly click the block button next to his username.

The second message is decidedly less creepy, a simple ‘sup’, from science_is_my_kokoro. When you click on his user name, it redirects to his profile page and your eyes flit over his bio as you hunt for a picture, clicking on the read more tab.

His profile picture pops up and for a second you stop breathing and the room starts spinning because good lord this man is gorgeous.

He’s wearing a white lab coat, round glasses perched low on the bride of his nose as he flashes a tight smile at someone behind the camera, dimples deep and eyes sparkling. Your breath hitches as you scroll through his photo album, lips curving into a smile when you find a picture of him cuddling a golden retriever and another one of him sitting in a park, legs wrapped around a tree. You find yourself shaking your head, staring at his photos for who knows how long because what is someone this attractive doing on a dating website and why is he talking to you of all people. It takes a good ten minutes before you can finally calm your heart rate, clicking on the back button and searching for his profile.

This time you properly read his bio, searching for any signs that he may be one of those creepy men you hear about in the news.

I am what I.M, bro. You and I, we fit together like the sticky ends of recombinant DNA.  Interests: science, dogs, dog videos, the periodic table of elements.

It’s childish but cute and you can’t help the spark of curiosity that blooms in your chest, prompts you to wonder too many ‘what if’ scenarios. What if he’s not a creepy stalker and what if he really likes your dogs and what if he lets you poke his dimples and–

You inhale shakily and click on his name again, slowly typing out ‘hi’ into the message box. Your eyes read over the message eighteen times to make sure you haven’t somehow misspelled it and you click send, wincing when a whoosh sounds from your laptop.

And then you wait, fingers drumming nervously on your laptop. As you wait, you go to your own profile. What you find there nearly has you flinging your laptop at the wall, already prepared to hunt down Jooheon and strangle him, because what kind of friend does this.

Henlo~ I’m h0t trust me date me im mean 2 my frendos but not 2 my luhvurs Interests: eating, sleeping, hitting people (even my super sweet best friend), and doggos

The profile picture he has set is of the one your mom took of you during halloween in the seventh grade and you’re wearing a giant pumpkin costume with a green stem on your head, braces flashing unattractively in the camera.

Lee Jooheon is not to be trusted.

You’ve spent the last few minutes, kicking at your sheets in frustration and clawing out your hair because you’re doomed there’s no way this cute boy is going to think you’re normal and now you’ll never know–

A loud ping! sounds from your laptop and you nearly fall off the bed as you scramble, squinting at the screen and clicking on the notification above the messages.

From: science_is_my_kokoro

What’s up?

You choke.

Jooheon barges into your apartment the next evening, swinging a bag of beer in his hand and yelling something about ‘best friends night!’ You wave your hand dismissively at him as you continue clacking away at your laptop.

Turns out, science_is_my_kokoro is a cute laboratory geneticist who’s also been roped into this website by a friend and goes by the name of Changkyun. You spent all last night talking to him, first polite and stiff, but as the night wore on, he grew more and more relaxed, eventually spamming you with nine smileys and messages with very poor grammar. 

Your conversations consisted of random topics, mostly dogs at first. Changkyun sent you three dog videos and you sent him pictures of Pupper and Doggo. He didn’t hesitate to immediately tease you over the name choice, snarky comments and sassy jokes, but you find that it doesn’t annoy you as much when he does it.

“Hey!” Jooheon whines, poking your shoulder and pouting. “Why’re you ignoring me?”

“Wait. I’m doing something.”

He props his chin up on your shoulder, tilting his head to eye the screen, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as his mouth drops open, a gasp slipping past his lips.

“YOU’RE USING IT? YOU’RE ACTUALLY USING IT?” He asks, voice too loud in your apartment as he lifts his head off your shoulder.

You turn your head slowly to glare at him, hissing, “Why are you screaming? Are you trying to make sure I wind up with a noise complaint?”

Jooheon recoils, clearing his throat, “Right. Sorry. But you’re actually using it!” He squeals the last sentence, body writhing in some strange rendition of a happy dance.

You roll your eyes and look back down at your laptop, lips curving into a smile when Changkyun sends you another message, something about having to study beetles for work.

Jooheon hooks his chin on the screen of your laptop and pouts. “Stop ignoring me. I’m your best friend.”

“Fuck off,” you respond, not bothering to look up at him as you blindly reach over to crack open a can of beer, patting the space next to you and handing him the tv remote. It takes a few more pokes from him for you to close your laptop and finally stop messaging Changkyun.

A week later, you both exchange phone numbers, because lugging around you laptop to talk whenever you’re out off the house is annoying, especially since it requires you hunting down a place with wifi and hogging it just so you can exchange a few words with him. He’s cute, texts you random things during the day, pictures of things that reminded him of you and questions about what kind of cereal he should buy.

You both stay up late nights, rolling around bed and sending each other cheesy texts and sometimes Jooheon comes over with beer and offers to set you up with Hyunwoo because you still haven’t met up with Changkyun.

“I just–” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and taking a swig from his can of beer, “I just want you to get laid already, man.”

“Yes, thank you very much Jooheon.” But also you agree, because Changkyun has really nice hands and lips and sometimes he sends you selfies and you can see his dimples and–

You might be in over your head.

In three months, locations are exchanged and, as fate would have it, it turns out you both live in the same city, nearly in the same area. He tells you of a cafe three blocks away, one that has a park next to it that he likes to take his dogs to and you both decide to meet up for coffee.

It’s just coffee.

But then he goes to sleep and a funny sort of panic settles in your gut and you spend the next hour rifling through your closet in search of an outfit. You wind up sitting in a pile of skirts and flowy blouses, frantic thoughts rushing through your mind because what if he doesn’t like you or thinks you aren’t cute or he’s actually a fifty year old pervert who lives in his parents’ basement.

It’s how Jooheon finds you in the morning, curled up in a heap of clothes at the foot of your bed.

“How adorable,” he chimes, clapping his hands, “my sweet little bumblebee all grown up and ready to go out and get laid!”

“I can’t meet him!” You wail, “He’s never gonna like me!”

Jooheon rolls his eyes and pushes you into the bathroom. “You’re going.”

“But–”

“You’re going.”

And that’s how you end up standing outside the cafe in an itchy pink skirt and a loose white blouse. You clear your throat, steeling your nerves as you walk through the door, and you’re not exactly sure what you’re expecting, but the man with the familiar dimples sitting three tables down in a blue button up and black jeans is damn cute and he’s smiling at you and oh god–

“Ch–Changkyun,” you squeak, awkwardly waving as you stumble towards the table.

“Hey,” he responds, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he stands, nearly knocking over the kid standing behind him. He apologizes profusely to both the kid and her mother, who both send him irritated glares before stalking out the cafe. “You look nicer than that picture of you in your profile,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling.

You laugh, sliding into the seat across from him, “I would hope so, I was only twelve in that picture.” Stupid fucking dating website that won’t let you change your primary profile picture.

“It was cute,” he snickers, propping his chin up in his palm, elbow resting on the table. “I ordered us a vanilla milkshake because I’m pretty sure out said it’s you favorite.”

That was back when you were both first talking, about three months ago.

He hums, turning his head to look at the counter like it isn’t a big deal (it is).

“Do you remember mine?” He prompts shifting his gaze back to you and tilting his head.

“Strawberry shortcake,” you respond without hesitation, fingers coming up to splay across the table top.

He grins and you nearly keel over at the sight of his dimples. “Correct, m’lady!”

When the milkshake shows up, you’re surprised to see there’s only one on the tray.

“You didn’t order one?” You ask, eyebrows scrunched together.

“I did,” he replies with a grin, sticking two straws into the glass. He shoots finger guns at you and winks.

Oh.

You can’t tell if this is moving fast, but when he pushes the glass towards you, eyebrows raised, you find that you really don’t care.

So you lean forward, lips closing around the straw, and reenact all the cheesy summer teen movies you’ve seen, starry eyed and coquettish.

He leans forward, too, and he’s so close you forget exactly how to drink and he smells woodsy, with hints of sugar, like warm naps and fireplaces.

“I’ve wanted to try something,” he announces when you both leans back in your seats.

“What?”

“The woes of onlines dating do not allow me to do so” he sighs mournfully, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Whatever,” he says, jaw setting in determination, “I’m doing it.”

You’ve never been more confused.

“You’ve got a little something there,” he says, pointing at your upper lip. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion because you’ve been drinking from a straw and there’s no way there something on your face.

Changkyun fixes his gaze on you and licks his thumb, leaning over the table to swipe it across your upper lip. You shoot him a bewildered look pulling your head back in confusion.

“What are you doing?” You ask. “We’re using straws, Changkyun, there’s nothing on my face.”

His cool expression melts into a pout and he whines, voice lilting, “Just–okay? I haven’t been able to do anything cutesy because we met online and all I can do is send you memes and hope you laugh!”

Your head tilts back and you laugh, nervousness melting away as Changkyun brings a sense of comfort, of familiarity. He cracks a smile and tries to intertwine your fingers on the table because he ‘saw it in a drama once and it’s cute!’ but you only double over in laughter.

You both leave the cafe ten minutes later because he has a new shipment of beetles coming in and you have filing to get to, but he walks you back home and little butterflies flap in your stomach.

“So,” he says, standing in front of your apartment building, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I enjoyed this.”

“So did I,” you reply, fingers clutching the strap of your purse and you hiccup when he takes a step forward breath fanning over your lips. “Y’know I don’t usually kiss people on the first date.”

He takes step back and furrows his brows. “Oh.”

“But in this case,” you continue, a small smile blooming across your face, “I think I’m willing to make an exception.”

He grins and steps forward again, but this time there’s uncertainty behind his eyes, like he’s scared of doing something wrong.

You both stare at each other for what seems like eternity before his jaw sets in determination and he blurts out, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

You haven’t dated in a while, but you’re pretty sure that’s a fairly unromantic thing to say. It doesn’t matter, though, because when he leans forward and presses his lips to yours, you find that you quite enjoy this feeling. Changkyun’s hands press against the small of your back, drawing you closer and you wrap your arms over his shoulders, fingers playing at the little hairs on the nape of his neck. He tastes like evening walks at the park and fireworks on the river and everything fades into the background as he tilts his head, lips moving softly over yours.

His lips feel better than they look, you note mindlessly, tracing the back of his neck with your fingers.

“So,” he breathes when you both pull apart, pressing his forehead against yours, “are we dating now?”

You gurgle back a mess of cracked syllables and broken words and nod, pulling him in for a second kiss because Lim Changkyun makes butterflies flutter in your stomach and makes your breath hitch.

So maybe, just maybe, you can learn to trust Jooheon a little bit.

A/N: 4am drabbles w nawar i wrote this in 2 hours and hAVE NO REGRETS yes i do what was this i used to write crack does it show

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