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#the silly geese ever
fox-guardian · 7 months
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oh I love reading bad takes so early into a show's life (sarcastic) (I'm dying) (god save me)
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maeby-cursed · 5 months
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i don't say this often (mainly because i keep all my cheesiness hidden safe away in my sideblog) but im so grateful to everyone who has chosen to follow this blog. i really really enjoy the small cozy community we've built here and im immensely moved whenever you guys say that you like my words. it's still hard to believe that i now interact w blogs that ive been following for years and get to have fun and kind mutuals to talk about silly thoughts with.
so yeah, if you're here ! i love you so very much and i appreciate you.
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oneriderratbug101 · 5 months
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Hear me out. Halston Balestrom.
My own personal biases make me struggle to say this is a hear me out, as Halston is an incredibly dapper living embodiment of charm! However, he is strange and unusual enough in design, and has a specific frog:human ratio landing him in an uncomfortable valley for some! Not only that but he's beloved by all in a more wholesome way, being everyone's quirky little guy, adding a bit more stigma to saying you like him romantically/sexually! This, class, is a hear me out! Due to the combination of canon personality, appearance, and general community feelings, this is an interest that requires explanation! Said required explanation being the entire original purpose of "hear me out"! Excellent work!
I am going to need your explanation though, despite seeing how some could find him attractive I'm charmed by him in a platonic way. I will be expecting a written explanation of why Halston has created a storm in your heart by the week's end.
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bl4ckbox · 9 months
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rest in peace king sara 😢 gonna miss you
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wishmkr-j-art · 2 years
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ポリゴン
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finchowl · 1 year
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♡´・ᴗ・`♡
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thought i’d share some photos from over the years! i just found the Yosemite photos not too long ago and can’t believe they were taken 9 years ago?! i have a passion for photography but surprisingly never think to share my photos or advertise them. i did used to have a photography account on instagram but it’s long gone haha. if anybody sees this lol, can you tell me if you’d be interested to see more photos (as well as art)?
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schadenfreudich · 16 days
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Gosling!!!
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Some bird pictures that AREN'T low quality this time!
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starlightiing · 1 month
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CHARACTER BINGO: PROMPTO FROM FF15
Send me a character and I'll fill this out!
Prompto Argentum (Final Fantasy 15):
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krawdad · 5 months
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I've been seeing these things since we moved here they've been called Coots this whole time
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nostalgicfun · 1 year
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My boyfriend was on the phone with his dad yesterday so I went out to sit on the patio to pet the geese and play on my phone for a bit, and while out there I came across a comic of baby Grimace (yes, that Grimace) being sad because everyone hated his milkshake and saying he wished he never had a birthday. Then there was a follow up where tons of people had commented saying they loved the shake and wished Grimace a happy birthday, and that made him happy again.
This, for whatever reason, emotionally devastated me. I was sobbing. I was ugly crying so bad that even the geese waddled away side-eyeing me.
After a while my bf yelled from inside, "Okay, you ready for dinner?" and I was forced to accept I had to go back in the house a defeated sniffly little wreck.
My boyfriend, who has only ever seen me cry once in the whole year we've been together, looked horrorstruck. He assumed the worst. Someone got hurt. Something was wrong with my family. Someone was mean to me (a cardinal sin). The panic that washed over his face was unparalleled.
He, upon seeing me, (somewhat theatrically) rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. "What's wrong, what happened? Are you okay?" he asked, frantic. "What is it?"
I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and just shook my head.
He was growing more panicked. "What is it? Why are you crying?"
I then had to stand there and look him, this completely normal human being, in the eyes, and blurt out "Grimace"
Confused silence followed.
"....Grimace?"
I nodded.
"...The McDonalds guy...thing?"
I nodded.
"What...what did...Grimace...do to you?"
I then tearfully recounted the silly internet comic that had absolutely broken my heart. And this poor guy--this poor, wonderfully sweet, nice, patient guy--kindly stood there trying to figure out how to comfort me that Grimace was not, in fact, sad. (Nevermind that he's a corporate mascot who isn't real)
This morning my phone rang just after 5am. It was my boyfriend. It was my turn to panic, to assume the worst.
I didn't even have time to say hello before he started excitedly yelling, "Look at the TikTok I just sent you! Look! Open it!"
Confused and not entirely convinced I wasn't still asleep, I opened the TikTok.
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An official release from McDonalds confirming Grimace (who still isn't real) did, in fact, feel special on his birthday.
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dateko · 1 year
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a/n: another rando drabble... twas hiding amidst the dust in my drafts... i will never get to see the four of these silly geese happy ever again and they only exist in my google docs where nothing bad ever happens to them...
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“Sensei, what is Sensei to you?” Yuuji asks suddenly, causing Gojo to stop in his tracks.
“Huh? Me?”
This time, Nobara groans. “No, you blindfolded idiot! That Sensei!” 
Gojo follows his young student’s gaze as she tilts her chin towards the field where the second-years are training. 
There, standing beside the ever-adorable Panda, is you. You watch with a proud smile on your face as the second years spar with one another, calling out praises along with death threats coming from Maki. It doesn’t take long for you to notice the first years and their slender mentor watching you from the steps. Your lips fight to bite down a smile as you throw out a wave, watching Satoru lift his mask to wink at you.
“See! See! Like that!” Nobara starts again excitedly, pointing at her teacher. “What is that woman to you?”
“Eh?” Gojo raises an eyebrow before lowering his mask. “She’s… A close friend of mine.”
“Sensei, you’re being secretive.” Yuuji offers him a skeptical look, to which Nobara nods along with adamantly. “Fushiguro, what do you think?”
Megumi glances at your figure with a dragging sigh before walking in front of his classmates. “If you ask me, she’s the one.”
Thing 1 and Thing 2 erupt with rowdy exclamations, practically bouncing off their teacher. Megumi continues to walk with a somewhat satisfied expression. The boy’s known you his entire life. Especially how much you mean to his blue-eyed benefactor. 
“B-but how do you know she’s really the one?” Yuuji asks this time, fully invested in his teacher’s love life.
Gojo shrugs nonchalantly. “I have good eyes, you know.”
“Well, now I just feel sorry for her. She has to deal with you every day!” Nobara deflates immediately, unsure of how to feel knowing someone she respects is romantically affiliated with her headache-inducing instructor.
“Hey! It’s a blessing to deal with me!” 
A pair of footsteps sneak up behind the group. “Deal with who?”
With a hand on your hip, you stop to tilt your head at the pairs of wide eyes looking at you. Even beneath his mask, you can tell Satoru looks more than guilty. 
“Something on my face?” You pat a hand on your cheek, wondering why no one’s said anything to you. 
Nobara breaks the silence by walking up to you with her head down, a downcast expression on her face. “Sensei… I’m so sorry for you…”
Confused and admittedly very concerned, you shoot Gojo a look before patting Nobara’s head reassuringly. And your lover holds a sheepish expression as he holds his hands clasped behind his back, an old habit he used to do when he knew he was in the wrong. 
“Alright, I might as well just say it,” Gojo starts, fixing the collar of his jacket. “I told them about us.”
Your eye widen at his words, lips sputtering for a normal response. “You told them we’re married?”
“Wait, married?! Meeting each other with good feelings is one thing, but married… Sensei, I thought you were better than this…" Nobara shakes her head dramatically before walking off, flashing you a disapproving look before dragging Yuuji along with her.
You watch the younger student walk off with a confused brow before returning to face your lover, who is grinning wildly at you. He's clearly over feeling guilty about exposing your little secret. Your questionable silence comes to Gojo as a queue to pull you into a loving embrace, a quiet apology for blowing your cover.
Without skipping a beat, you return the hug, giving up on trying to scold him. You squeak when Gojo rocks the two of you back and forth, pressing never-ending kisses on your jaw. “Just an FYI, Megumi was the one who told them.” He mutters, nose pressing itself into the crook of your neck.
You gasp, holding his face while you step back to look at him. “He wouldn’t do such a thing!”
“He said that you were the one.”
“Isn’t that what you said?”
“Shut up.”
You let out a giggle, a sound Gojo could listen to for hours on repeat. “You used to be so corny when we dated. Still now.”
“I don't think I could ever stop being corny. Only when it comes to you.”
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knifeforkspooncup · 6 days
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I made this silly little art, and then like a being possessed, wrote 1200 words of pure unadulterated hogwash to go with it (ficlet below the cut)
Duck Duck Goose
Rating: Teen and up
"Shouldn't be feeding them bread." Crowley said, trying and failing to ward off an irate goose with the pointed toe of his boot. "It’s brioche." Aziraphale chided, as if that explained anything. A nattering crowd of ducks was forming at his feet like eager disciples. Crowley didn't ask where he'd gotten the brioche. He'd stuck his chilly hands into Aziraphale's pockets enough times now to know the list of things the angel kept on his person at any given moment was - well, impressive was one word for it. In the way a magpie's hoard of oddities was impressive. A brioche was quite pedestrian, really. "Brioche then.” The goose had moved on to striking repeatedly for his ankles, more pit viper than waterfowl. “Shouldn’t. Feed them. Brioche,” he gritted between defensive maneuvers. He never had gotten the hang of sword fighting. If Aziraphale heard, he pretended not to, ripping off hunks of bread at least double the esophagus diameter of the average mallard duck. One at a time, he tossed them lazily into the fray. The ducks erupted into chattering, nipping each other’s feathers. A shark frenzy had more natural order to it.
The goose took no interest, bloodlust overriding any desire for fine French baked goods. If anything, it doubled its effort to latch onto Crowley’s shin. Had geese always had teeth?
Aziraphale beamed at the chaos, halogen bright. Humming with self satisfaction, he brushed his hands of crumbs, and settled back against the bench. Crowley diverted a sliver of bodily coordination to snake one arm behind him, weaseling into the warm gap left by the angel’s impeccable posture.
This was a thing they did now, apparently. Not watching ducks squabble over bread – that part was old hat. But Aziraphale tucking himself neatly against Crowley's side? For all the world to see. Like he was one of Crowley's wings simply stowing away. Frankly, that hat still had the tag on it. Still had that new hat smell.
This was rapidly becoming their new normal. Embroidery on the familiar weave of their time together. They still did all the things they always had. They still went to the Ritz, where the waiter still assumed Aziraphale was paying for the bill. Crowley still pulled out the angel’s seat like a proper gentledemon.
None of that had changed.
Just now they also held hands on the table between courses, and Aziraphale fed Crowley bites of dessert straight from his spoon. Sometimes they even did exciting things with their feet under the table.
Aziraphale called it canoodling. Crowley was pretty sure that was a fussy type of dog. The kind that wore bows on its head and left the groomer looking like an ornamental hedge.
Whatever it was, it was nice. More than nice.
Take today for example. The clouds were parting, birds singing – the whole production; the sun sparkled just so, really putting the ol’ razzle dazzle on it all.
There went Aziraphale, tipping his head back against Crowley’s shoulder, eyes closing. Lashes sun-gilt and fanning on his rosy cheeks. Straight out of a renaissance painting. A nice, expensive renaissance painting, on with real lapis lazuli pigment for the eyes. The angel really knew when to lay it on thick.
“Oh, that’s quite nice, isn’t it.” Aziraphale sighed, basking in the warmth.
See, nice? It was nice. Five hundred years of coming here, and this moment was the most nice it had ever been. Crowley remembered when this place was a marshy field full of roving geese and snuffling pigs. When the trees that made this nice bench were just scrawny little saplings, runty and wind bitten. Had the bench gotten smaller? It used to feel immense, and not in the luxury Cadillac sense of the word. Used to fit Heaven and Hell between them with room to spare. Back when nice was a four letter –
The goose sunk it’s – definitely toothed – beak into Crowley’s shin, just above the boot.
Satisfied with its grip, it started to flail, giving the impression Crowley was a chewtoy it meant to thrash to death. The small part of Crowley’s brain reserved for humility was starting to believe it would succeed.
"Dinner? How would you feel about a nice, tasty Christmas goose?” Grunted Crowley, shaking his leg and raising his free hand, demonic miracle at the ready. He had just the goose in mind. “With all the trimmings. Could even do some plum sauce on the side if you like,"
Aziraphale frowned, eyes still closed. “…it’s October.”
“That a no, then? Don’t want to get a head start on the festivities?”
Aziraphale looked up just as Crowley managed to dislodge the fowl beast and punt it away like a feathery football. It came right back, tongue stuck out like a rude child and wheezing angrily.
He tsked, mouth thinning. “You’re terrible. Leave the poor thing alone.”
Crowley sputtered. “Wha – ha – me?! I’m not the one biting a boot like a lunatic!” Would that work? Biting it? Maybe the goose would bugger off if Crowley bit it back. Should he bite it back? He should probably bite it, shouldn’t he. Oh, Satan, he was going to get feathers stuck in his teeth.
The infernal creature hissed, undoubtedly reading his mind. Crowley hissed back, tongue forking menacingly if only for the sake of his own ego.
Aziraphale was staring at him and smiling. Well, smirking. Fondly. The corners of his mouth pinching his cheeks, eyes crinkling under a raised eyebrow. He even had a dimple forming on his chin. Ridiculous. Something in the inner workings of Crowley’s chest did its best impression of a snare drum.
“Shall we, my dear?” Said the Very Ridiculous Angel, stirring from Crowley’s side. He stood and straightened his jumper until there were no more wrinkles. Seeing Crowley still engaged in boot-to-beak combat with the feathery fiend, he added tartly: “Before someone gets killed.”
Crowley grumbled something about demonic wrath and taking bets, but slunk to his feet. He flicked his glasses down and shot a final, venomous glare at the goose before sidling up to Aziraphale and offering his arm.
Aziraphale took it, wedging warm hands into the crook of Crowley’s elbow. He made it look habitual, easy as. Just the natural thing to do. Right as rain.
He was faster than Crowley, at this part. At the settling in. He’d taken to it all like geese to psychological warfare.
“You mentioned dinner?” Said Aziraphale brightly, ducks parting obediently at their feet.
“Your turn to pick.” Crowley’s skin was sizzling, water on a hot frying pan.
Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, face thoughtful. He took dinner plans very seriously.
“How about Peking duck? From that lovely place just around the corner, the one with the comfortable chairs.”
Crowley gave him a sharp look, nearly spraining an eyebrow in the process.
The angel was looking resolutely ahead, expression perfectly blank save for the way his mouth twitched at the corners.
I love you, blurted Crowley’s brain.
“Every restaurant has comfortable chairs,” blurted his mouth. It was a fact. Every restaurant did have comfortable chairs. Or else. So far Crowley hadn’t met a chair that cared to find out about the or else – chairs not being very curious by nature.
Crowley would say all the other things later, of course. All the sappy, corny, sweet-nothing things. When they were home. When he could wash the burn down with something whispered and sinfully filthy. Something that would make Aziraphale turn pinker than a summer peach.
Aziraphale was watching him, gaze unspeakably soft. “I know, my dear,” he said.
“I know.”
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daycourtofficial · 7 months
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Freaky Friday
Summary: based on this request - you and Azriel swap bodies, chaos ensues.
Warnings: allusions to sex.
Author’s note: this is just a silly goofy time for my silly goofy geese. Is this my best work? No. But it’s fun and goofy and who cares
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You wake with a groan, your muscles feeling incredibly stiff and heavy. You drag yourself to the bathroom, eyes half closed with sleep.
Everything feels wrong. Your body feels so, so heavy as you open the door to the bathroom. You run some water, splashing it on your face as some fae lights come on.
You sigh, the water making you feel a little more alert. You shut the water off, bracing your hands on the sink, thinking about the mission from yesterday.
It wasn’t this bad - you really didn’t have to do all that much. You and Azriel spoke to a witch for cauldron’s sake - it was more of a test of your mental sparring than anything.
You brace yourself against the sink, remembering the nasty cut on your face. Right now you can’t even feel it, but you should still check on it, make sure it’s healing properly.
You look into the mirror, prepared to see a nasty gash across your face.
Instead you’re met with hazel eyes, tan skin, and onyx hair that are not your own.
And you scream. A deep, bellowing scream.
A moment later the door is shoved open, someone’s body making direct contact with it.
Rhys comes running in, having grabbed a knife on his way in, prepared for any threat that lingers. His violet eyes scan the room, searching for anything that can make his brother scream like that.
You turn to face Rhys, the weight of Azriel’s wings bringing you down. You’re able to look him eye to eye, the height of difference between you and Azriel making Rhys seem much smaller than he used to.
“Az?” Rhys ask, “what’s wrong?”
“I’m not Azriel.”
Moments later you find yourself in Rhysand’s office, not sure what to do with yourself as you try to sit on the couch, the large wings behind you making it hard to sit comfortably.
You accidentally sit on the end of a wing, yelping at the sensation and get up, delicately holding the wing so you can sit.
“Tell me everything that happened on your mission,” Rhys said, and you did. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and everything went fine.
The two of you looked at each other, and Rhys decides to call Azriel and Cassian into his office to see if he can figure out what happened.
-
Cassian pats you on the head as he walks past you, much like he always does. You were much shorter than everyone else, not as short as Amren, but still quite small comparatively.
Then again, Cassian hardly ever met anyone he could look in the eye and not have to crane his neck to make eye contact.
It was your thing - he patted your head, you swatted his hand away, but that was it.
Until this morning, when you whirled around and landed a punch right on his jaw, taking the moment of deflection to grab his arm and flip him onto the ground.
He held his jaw in his hand, your name on his tongue. “What the hell was that for?”
You looked down at him, but Rhys’s voice breaks through both of your minds.
Come to my office please.
-
Cassian laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
Then he looked at the two of you, and laughed some more. You two sat next to each other on the couch in Rhys’s office, but so unsure of how to hold yourselves. His brother looked unable to hold up his own wings, and you looked so lost and alone, likely due to the loss of the shadows.
Feyre had joined the impromptu meeting in Rhys’s office, where no one could figure out why this had happened. And Cassian was certainly not helping things.
“Look I’m just saying if I swapped bodies with someone I’d fuck myself.”
“Cassian,” Feyre hissed, nodding her head to the door.
“Okay, okay,” he says, walking towards it. “I’ll go.”
Cassian leaves the room, but his laugh can still be heard down the hallway.
“Are the two of you going to be okay?” Rhys asks, looking over the both of you. You shrug, knowing there’s not really anything else you can do, meanwhile Azriel nods.
The two of you were taken away from your duties for the time being, which was probably for the best seeing as how you have no idea how anyone manages to hold their wings off of the ground and walk at the same time.
You were going bonkers in Azriel’s body.The shadows had no idea you weren’t their master, so they kept telling you everything. You had no control over them, so a good portion of them kept wandering over to Azriel stuck in your body. Their presence seemed to soothe him, and you wonder just how alone he feels without them.
You could hardly walk without dropping the massive wings behind you on the floor, so you mostly opted to stayed seated or lying down for the rest of the afternoon, staying in the library trying to figure out how you woke up in Azriel’s body.
You walk past Nesta on your way to dinner, the hulking mass you’re carrying around needing much more food than you were used to. You had the house give you an ungodsly amount of food during the afternoon, from snacks to fruits to nuts. You go to walk by, unaccustomed to the new body and slam into her, apologizing profusely.
She looks you up and down smirking, and you realize that everyone likely found this situation much funnier than you did.
Azriel came up to dinner not long after you did, and Cassian began making fun of you two again. Nyx turned to his mom, clearly confused about his Uncle Cassian’s jokes, when she explains to Nyx that the two of you had swapped bodies.
Nyx clapped his hands, the little princeling quite pleased with this turn of events.
“My wish came true!”
Everyone stops what they’re doing, utensils clattering on plates.
“Er what wish, sweetheart?” Feyre asks, her full attention on her son.
“I wanted them to switch bodies!”
Cassian bursts out laughing, throwing his head back as Nesta swats him on the chest.
Rhys is trying not to laugh at the predicament his son has created as he asks, “and why is that, Nyx?”
Nyx looks at you as Azriel and says, “she told me she wanted wings like Uncle Az’s so when we went to the fountain I wished she could do it!”
Cassian looks at Mor, asking, “so wishes actually come true from that fountain?”
After dinner you find yourself standing next to Cassian, looking him in the eye. You never realized that Azriel was a few inches shorter than Cassian. Cassian looked at you, watching as you move around, unable to stand still and he knows it’s you and not his brother.
“What are you doing, sweetheart?”
Nothing brought Cassian more joy than calling the shadowsinger ‘sweetheart’.
“It’s odd being this tall. I can look you in the eye just standing straight.”
The shadows dart around you two, constantly whispering to you. You would be able to understand them if it weren’t for just how many of them were trying to talk to you.
You swat at them, but even more come back to you, some hitting you in the face.
Cassian laughs, clearly amused at this entire situation. Feyre had taken Nyx back to the fountain to make another wish right after dinner, a wish that everyone go back to their original bodies, but the rest of you were left to wait.
You head into Azriel’s room, leaving Cassian and his teasing remarks behind. You leave Azriel’s bedroom door open just a crack so he can slip in moments later, still in your body.
You run your hands through your hair - his hair, the length reminds you. You look at yourself, not used to this arrangement.
“So uh, this should wear off at some point, right?”
“Right.”
“This is erm weird.”
“Yes, yes it is.” Azriel says, leaning back on his bed. The air in the room shifts, and a sickly sweet smell overtakes the room.
You gasp, hitting Azriel’s - your - leg, “Az, we are stuck in each other’s bodies and you’re getting horny.”
He moves up to you, sitting in your lap. “I can’t help it - it’s your body. You’re so needy.”
His legs straddle your lap, and as he sits down he lets out a quiet moan. You lean closer to him, smelling him, “oh gods, you reek of sex!”
A light blush coats his - your - cheeks, and he responds, “well if I’m stuck in your body, might as well enjoy the company.”
You roll your eyes at him and he starts grinding on your lap, “okay, I-I get it now why you like this so much.”
You laugh at him, as you begin to feel your own arousal in a way that is new.
The two of you spend the night tangled in Azriel’s sheets, exploring this jewel reality you’ve found yourselves in.
-
You woke up in your own body, thank the mother, and the two of you go to Rhys’s office to find Rhys, Feyre and Cassian already in there.
They all peer at you, the unspoken question in their gazes.
You beam at them, “I am myself again.”
Azriel huffs, “I’m glad I can actually reach things again.”
You pout, hitting him on the arm, “hey, it could have been worse. You could have been stuck in some ugly person’s body.”
“Yeah, like Cassian.”
You two chuckle as Cassian’s face gets an irritated look on it.
You and Azriel leave the room, and Feyre turns to Cassian.
“Do you think they had sex last night?”
Rhys turns to Feyre, “there is no way they didn’t. They’ve been sneaking around for months.”
Feyre gasps, “no they have not!”
The two bicker back and forth over whether or not the two of you have been hooking up, and Cassian is uncharacteristically quiet.
“Did you hear anything, Cass?”
Cassian is brought back to the present, telling them he hadn’t heard anything. Truthfully, he knew you two were sneaking around, but he kept it to himself, worried the teasing might mess things up for you two.
You and Az skip off down the hall, both of you going into your room to explore all the things you found out about each other, and Cassian laughs lightly to himself, thinking about all the ways he’ll tease the two of you.
But that’s for another day. Another day when he feels like his brother’s insecurities won’t eat him alive. Another day when his brother will feel like he deserves you.
Another day.
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weirdmarioenemies · 7 months
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Name: Googles
Debut: Webkinz
What a cute silly plush duck! Right? WRONG! Goose? INCORRECT! This is no duck. This is no goose. This is no animal we have in our world. This is a Googles, and you have never seen anything like it!
Webkinz, as you likely know, is one of those 2000s Virtual Pet Worlds, with the gimmick of buying a real plush animal that would allow you to play with that animal in the game. And I mean animal! For the most part these are all actual animals, or at least variants of them, like a dog with a watermelon color scheme, or a lion with a flower petal mane. There are also some mythical creatures like dragons, which, yeah, it makes sense. Of course kids would want to have one of those as a virtual pet!
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Then there are the Zingoz, original little monster guys who get whacked with bats by bigger monster guys. I guess they're a little weird considering the setting, but "shape with face and limbs" is not on its own Weird. I have no feelings on Zingoz.
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It is Googles that fascinates me so much! All of these real animals, some fantasy creatures, a few minor goofy monsters, and yet, there is Googles. They have ducks and geese in the game. This is not one of them. It is the mundanity of Googles that fascinates me so! Of all the things to be an original trademark species, they decided on a Kind Of Different Duck, and I delight in that.
But there IS a reason for Googles! A point of origin! It would have been FUNNIER if there wasn't, but it's ok. It still is nice and makes me smile.
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In the 1980s, GANZ, the company that would go on to make Webkinz, released a series of funny little flat plushes, including this ducky one! And that name on the tag... that's Googles! From what I can tell, this whole series was known as Googles, and included other species, like dogs and walruses, but these duck-billed bowling pins were the most popular.
So for Webkinz, they decided to revive one of their old, beloved plush creatures, bringing Googles to new generations while not telling them about its origins, making this silly fowl a strange, mundane mystery! And THAT is all you need to know about the taxonomy of Googles.
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At least, that's what I thought until I found out about this official animated music video for babies, that repeatedly refers to an individual Googles as a PLATYPUS. Platypus?! Where's the TAIL? That's one of the most important features to represent! Their bills certainly are broad, but I assumed it was just a stylization thing. And if platypus, where are their forelegs?
I do not accept this answer. I do not think I will ever find a satisfactory conclusion. I admit defeat, Webkinz Animated Music Video From 2010. You have bested me.
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juyeonszn · 1 year
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SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)
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PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader
WORD COUNT 9.17k
GENRES horror ﹒ smut ﹒ angst ﹒ fluff ig?
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of blood, mentions of knifes, graphic description of stab wounds, mentions of potential mental illness, THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CONSTITUTE WARNINGS BUT ?!1?1 I DONT WANT TO SPOIL !1!2!2, Lots of Kissing, mutual masturbation (f! receiving fingering & m! receiving hand job), pillow talk ig, big dick hyunjae 😈, um unprotected sex lol be safe u silly geese, car sex, cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie, this entire fic is just a whole fucking roller coaster i stg it’s gonna haunt me forever
SUMMARY with a serial killer running rampant on campus, everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies. but, hey, at least you have hyunjae to protect you.
MORE omg.. my first written work for tbz 🙀 extra super fun fact; this was originally an idea i had for hyunjin from skz on my other blog that i actually started writing the week before halloween last year (the reason it’s a horror fic), but i never finished and sort of felt like there was no point in continuing it after a while— that is until i stumbled upon the draft a few weeks ago and decided to revamp, edit, and complete it 😋 i kept going back and rereading and then blanking when i wanted to add to it until last night when i said fuck it and drank two cups of coffee to power through the end 🙌 anyways.. here u all go, my baby that i never thought would see the light of day and my first time writing a genuine horror piece <3 also special shoutout to rina my soulmate @tsukidou for beta reading 🫶
PLAYLIST sacrifice (eat me up) — enhypen, awake — the boyz, roar — the boyz, fever — enhypen, fate — enhypen, taste — stray kids, wake up — ateez, white noise — pvris, heaven — pvris
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“Alright, that’s all for today’s lecture. If this was your last of the day, make sure to find someone to go home with and remember the curfew rules!” Your English professor says, concluding the class.
The students around you rush to pack up their things and get off of campus as soon as possible. You don’t seem to be in a hurry, though, taking your time to put away your notebook and laptop. Your roommates were still in their music production class, so you didn’t want to go home alone, deciding to wait until they were done.
“Y/N, don’t you wanna get home?” Professor Park asks, her voice echoing in the now empty lecture hall. She throws the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“I do, but I have to wait for my roommates. They’re in a class right now and I’d rather not go by myself.” You let out an awkward laugh. She nods at your reasoning, giving you a small smile for comfort.
“Okay, you be careful! I’ll see you on Thursday.”
You raise your hand in a silent salutation, watching as she exits the room, leaving you completely alone. Though a public space, in a public building, the fact that there’s no one else nearby leaves you utterly unsettled. Your stomach churns with a twinge of fear and you start to feel a bit claustrophobic despite being in such a spacious area, so you choose this point to hurriedly collect your belongings and get the hell out of there.
The past couple of months have been in this weird state of limbo. You don’t recall exactly when the killings started, but once the police noticed a pattern, everyone knew sooner or later that the presence of a serial murderer would be announced on the local news. Your town enforced a citywide curfew to protect its citizens, but mostly the students at your university.
Every single one of the killer’s victims were university students. You were friends with a bunch of guys and while it was nice having big strong men surrounding you, you knew that could hardly do anything to quell the lingering anxiety you’ve felt ever since the spree began.
The police seemed to be having trouble coming up with any possible suspects, or even gaining any leads, thanks to the killer’s unusual victimology and the cool down time between murders always varying. If the people in charge of protecting you couldn’t do that, how were you supposed to feel safe?
In an attempt to get to the building where Jacob, Kevin, and Eric were as fast as you could, you speed walk out of the lecture hall, accidentally bumping into someone. You bow at a nearly ninety-degree angle and hurl out apology after apology following the collision, not trying to make any enemies in this day and time.
“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spits, waiting for you to glance up at him to give you a nasty glare. He looks like the kind of guy who thought he was all that, despite peaking in high school. You feel your bottom lip quiver and you avoid eye contact.
“I—”
“Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. It was an accident, I’m sure she didn’t— wait, N/N, is that you? Hey it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
There’s a familiar voice in your ears and a hand under your chin, forcing you to stand upright. Whoever you bumped into walks away with a scoff. You meet eyes with Lee Hyunjae, one of your dearest friends. He recognizes that hint of panic in your features and he frowns.
“I’m so sorry, Jae, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—” Your breath is caught in your throat and you fumble over your words.
“Hey, hey, slow down,” he keeps a hold on your biceps. “It’s alright, I promise. He’s gone. What’s wrong?”
You shut your eyes tightly, feeling pathetic for causing such a scene for no apparent reason. Hyunjae guides you through your breathing, his focus trained on you the whole time. He always made you feel so comfortable.
“With everything that’s been going on, I’m just so paranoid and afraid of being alone. I wanted to go to the music department building and wait for the boys.” You finally explain once you’ve calmed down and the rise of your chest is even.
“How about this? I’ll take you home so you don’t have to stay on campus any longer.” He suggests, bringing up a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod slowly, gathering your bearings.
Hyunjae leads you to his car that’s parked in the lot closest to the building you were just in and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You’d been friends with your roommates for years now, meeting in eighth grade. You had just moved schools and happened to be put into a class with Eric Sohn, the most rambunctious boy you’d ever met. He thought you seemed really sweet upon first impression and decided to befriend you, introducing you to all of his friends in turn.
Aside from Eric, there was Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo. While it was a little overwhelming, it was nice going from zero friends to eleven in the span of just a couple days. You were pretty close to all of them, but you and Hyunjae initially hit it off the best. You understood each other on a different level than everyone else and to this day, you still don't know the exact reason why.
Towards the end of high school, your friendship with Hyunjae transformed into something that wasn’t purely platonic. You weren’t entirely sure when it started to change, but your feelings for him grew exponentially. You tried to keep them to yourself, hidden from the world to preserve your fragile teenage heart. Though you’d already been friends with them a few years at that point, you still had that inkling of dread in the pit of your stomach that one day they’d choose to stop talking to you. You especially didn’t want a silly crush to be the cause of that.
After a while, however, the lines began to blur together anyway and everyone could tell you felt for him romantically. Once, Eric had made a comment about it being so painfully obvious that Hyunjae was just as into you and it nearly shook your whole world.
When college time rolled around, you all knew you’d be attending the same university, so picking roommates was a bit of a tricky situation. You chose yours solely based on the fact that you were majoring in similar things, so it’d be easy to fit schedules together. (You also couldn’t handle being roommates with Hyunjae; it’d be too much for your heart.) Hyunjae lived with Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo, while Sangyeon, Younghoon, Chanhee, and Haknyeon lived together.
Hyunjae parks in a spot near the stairs that lead to your unit. The car is still running when you unbuckle your seatbelt and you stare at the steps blankly. Though the close proximity with him has your pulse racing, you want nothing more than some company until your roommates get home. You turn to him shyly, balling up a fistful of your sweater.
“Jae, do you— do you think you could stay with me for a bit before the boys come back? I don’t— I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”
The look he gives you is full of adoration, like you personally put the stars in the sky. He smiles softly and nods, reaching across the center console to place a comforting hand on top of yours. The two of you keep them intertwined as you go inside your apartment, locking all the locks carefully before sitting on your couch.
You don’t make a comment about him not letting go despite already being in the safety of your home. You don’t say anything about him pulling you into his side either, mostly because you want him to.
With all that’s been happening recently, you’ve felt so hollow. There was this indescribable emptiness expanding in you and even though you so desperately wanted to chalk it up to something else, you knew it was due to the fact that there was growing anxiety that you could be next, that any of your friends could be next. You were starting to move like you were in a simulation, doing everything in your daily routine without a single emotion. Sure, you’d laugh when Eric made a stupid joke but that’s about the most anyone could get from you aside from the occasional panic attack.
Hyunjae being here and holding you is exactly what you needed to feel some semblance of warmth again.
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There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door around eight that same night, waking you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep or being moved to your bed, so you’re not too sure when Hyunjae left. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you get up to open your door.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you, but we got some takeout if you’re hungry.” Jacob says with an apologetic smile, leaning on the door frame.
You give him a bleary look as you nod, following him into the dining room where your other two roommates were sitting at the table. Eric greets you through a full mouth. A small laugh escapes you when you sit across from him, Kevin adjacent to your seat. The sound of the TV in the living room plays as background noise as the four of you eat.
“So when’d you get home? I thought you were gonna wait for us.” Kevin asks.
“I was, but then I ran into Hyunjae when I was on my way to your building and he offered to bring me home,” you shrug, taking some tteokbokki with your chopsticks. “It was a whole thing, please don’t ask.”
Eric hums to himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he takes a sip of his cola. “Interesting. And you say he’s not into you…”
Heat blooms over your cheeks and you accidentally drop your chopsticks on your plate, their clacking against the ceramic garnering your roommates’ attention. Eric Sohn was now number one on your hit list. Kevin elbows him in the side and tells him to be quiet, despite the tiny upwards curve of his lips.
“If he cares about you as much as he seems like he does, he wouldn’t have left you here alone after you fell asleep,” Jacob mutters, looking at you from his peripherals. “What was the point of escorting you home if—”
“Jacob shut the fuck up,” Eric suddenly blurts, the three of you stare at him as he clambers over to the living room, turning up the volume on the TV. “Look!”
You turn in your chair, your stomach churning at the news report unfolding before you.
“We’re live just outside SNU, where another victim has been found. The body hasn’t been identified yet, but from what we do know, he was a student that attended the school,” the female reporter says into the microphone she’s holding, a glazed over expression in her eyes. “Crime Scene Investigators believe he was murdered at around six this evening, and was assumed to have been making his way home from campus. Updates are expected to come later tonight once we have more information.”
You know that far away, checked out gaze she had all too well. She’s reported on the killings for a while now, no doubt numb to the way things were at this point.
Your appetite spoils immediately and you excuse yourself from the table, making your way back to your room. You sit on your bed and bring your knees to your chest, taking a deep breath in, then covering your mouth when you breathe out to muffle the sob that follows. It was becoming too overwhelming for you and there was nothing you could do about it besides sit back and watch.
It was understandable for anyone in your situation to feel hopeless, how could they not? With someone terrorizing the city in an unpredictable manner, there was no sense of normalcy in anyone’s life. You shudder when you finally bring yourself to stop crying, digging your nails into the fat of your calves.
Through the walls, you can hear the boys talking, voices solemn.
“Why’d you have to put the TV louder, dumbass?”
“Sorry, I just like being up to date on the case, you know? I want to be prepared. What if I need to learn clone jutsu to take out the guy?”
“Eric, you’re such a clown, oh my god.”
“I get that you’re interested and all, but you have to be mindful of Y/N. You know how much this has affected her both emotionally and physically, she doesn’t need the constant reminder that it’s happening. And I’d appreciate if you apologized for telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’.”
There’s a snort in between.
“My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude about it. But while we’re on the topic, I think we both need to admit our mistakes. What you said about Hyunjae to her wasn’t cool either. I know we’re all friends, but it just came across too—”
“It was really snappy, Jacob. And a bit petty.”
“Yeah! What Kevin said.”
“I— you’re right. I just don’t want her getting hurt, in more ways than one.”
You don’t hear much else from the trio and sigh heavily, dragging your hands down your face and wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms. You grab your phone from your nightstand and hesitantly search for Hyunjae’s contact, the line ringing a couple times before he answers.
“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did something happen?”
“N-no, I’m fine. I was just— I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay,” you mess with your bottom lip. “I heard there was another victim and I didn’t know when you left the apartment, so I just— uh— I just needed to know that you were safe. I called to see if you’d answer.”
You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment, even if he can’t exactly see you. The stuttering was enough to make you go into hiding for the rest of your life if this serial killer didn’t.
“Oh,” you can hear the slight chuckle in his response from the way his breath hits the speaker. “It means a lot that you’d do that, N/N. Really, I appreciate you so much.”
Your lip finds itself between your teeth and your heart is pounding unbearably fast, you think you might be having a heart attack. You bring a hand up to clutch at your chest as a fuzzy feeling courses through your whole being.
Now you were scared for an entirely different reason.
(The main one occupies your mind again later that night when you scroll through your Twitter feed, only to find out the most recent victim was the guy you accidentally bumped into. You feel like some sick version of a guardian angel was looking after you. It makes it hard to fall asleep after that.)
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A couple days passed and you found yourself thinking about Lee Hyunjae more than usual.
Not to say that you didn’t already think about him at least once a day, but now it was worse. When you woke up, you wondered if he was still asleep. While you drank your morning coffee, you wondered if it’d taste sweeter had he made it for you. When you had lunch, you wondered if he’d like the spam musubi you made yourself. When you attended your other classes, you wondered which courses he was struggling with this semester.
As you were walking out of your English class, you recalled running into him. Had he not been there, you might’ve driven yourself insane trying to rush over to the music building while diffusing the issue with that stranger.
When you first began to harbor feelings for him, you assumed it would become nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush. He was attractive and kind to you, but that was just the bare minimum— you thought you’d grow out of it. However, as time went on, what you thought was just puppy love had blossomed into something stronger. It was a force to be reckoned with.
Of course, all of that had been tossed on the back burner with everything that’s going on. Recently you’ve been too afraid for your own safety and well-being to over analyze your interactions with Hyunjae, but now you’re back to square one.
All because he’d done something nice for you.
God, the bar was so low. Was it really too much to ask for someone who was decent? Someone who wasn’t a serial killer?
You were on your way to the music building to wait for Jacob, Kevin, and Eric once again, when you see Hyunjae coming down the hall. He’s on his phone, not paying any mind to his surroundings. You’re about to call out to him when someone stops you, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater gently.
“Hey, Y/N right?” The tall boy asks, a charming smile on his face.
“Uh— yeah,” you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Y-you are?”
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I must seem like a total weirdo,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Mingyu! We have English together.”
“Oh, you’re Mingyu? Professor Park told me about you before class today,” you give him a small comforting smile. “I don’t mind helping you!”
“Ah, that’s great to hear. I was a bit worried you’d be more annoyed about having to tutor someone so late in the semester.” Though he’s much taller than you and approached you first, Mingyu comes across as a little shy in nature. It puts you at ease in a way.
“No, not at all! English isn’t always the easiest, I get that. I wanna help as much as I can before finals. Look,” you pause, pulling your backpack off one shoulder to rip out a sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my number so we can arrange meet up dates! I’d prefer if we met at the library if that’s okay with you?”
Mingyu grins and sports a thumbs up in agreement. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Y/N!”
You scribble your phone number onto the paper and hand it to him before parting ways. With the off guard conversation, you nearly forgot about Hyunjae, who was nowhere to be seen now. You feel your lips droop into a frown, since you were hoping you could talk with him for a second.
As you’re walking across the quad to the music building, a wind chill blows past you, making you wrap your arms around yourself. It was mid November and for some stupid reason, you were only wearing a small cardigan.
When you squint up at the sky, you also realize it’s more overcast than anything. There’s an angry grey cloud right above you and you curse yourself for not having an umbrella or a raincoat. You should've been more prepared, especially because of the inconsistent weather this time of year.
Suddenly, the sky is blocked from your view and you furrow your brows, spinning around. Hyunjae stares back at you with a smile ten times warmer than the frigid air surrounding you and a thicker jacket in one hand. The other holds up an umbrella just as tiny droplets begin to fall from above.
His timing couldn’t have been better.
“Heading to the music building?” He asks, skillfully placing the coat on your shoulders.
“Mhm… was gonna wait for the boys.” You respond, a little awestruck by how gorgeous he was. Especially up close. Your eyes fixate on the freckle on his nose rather than his own. He hums, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you in a different direction.
“I can take you home again,” he glances down at you. “I don’t mind one bit.”
“O-okay!”
During the car ride to your apartment, you send a quick text to your roommates about not waiting up. You were happy that your relationship with Hyunjae was evolving. The past couple semesters had been rough, and you hadn’t seen him or any of the other guys nearly as much as Jacob, Kevin, and Eric. (And that was only because you lived with them.)
You toss your keys on to the mini table beside the front door, taking off your shoes with a small groan. The boots were cute, but not very comfortable. Hyunjae follows suit, his sock clad feet shuffling against the floor to sit on the couch.
After switching on the TV, you find a random Hallmark Christmas movie to play in the background, knowing full well that his presence beside you was too distracting. The brunette turns to face you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to get your attention.
“So, who was the dude you were talking to earlier?”
You blink at his question. So he saw you after all. Was he perhaps jealous? The idea shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does. “My professor asked me to tutor him ‘cause he’s struggling with English. Why?”
“Just curious. He seemed a little touchy.” Hyunjae plays with the hem of your sweater.
“O-oh. It’s fine, he wasn’t a random perv, if that’s what you were wondering.”
He scoots a little closer to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. You feel your face flush impossibly hotter. Your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat. His body heat radiates off of him with the new proximity.
“Good. It drives me crazy seeing other guys put their hands on you.” He admits bluntly, his hand resting at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder.
You know you look insane, your chest heaving up and down and your eyes widened a little. Like a baby deer caught by a predator. Who knew sweet sweet Hyunjae had a rather risqué side to him? You swallow thickly, not daring to move an inch. His thumb caresses your skin gently, goosebumps littering in its wake.
“Hyunjae…” You breathe, lips parting as you finally make eye contact with him.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”
You want to scream into the cushion behind you, your hands clamming up. Hyunjae looks like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to, his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans in a bit more. This moment was something straight out of one of your darkest fantasies. You never thought this would ever happen, that either of you would ever actually make a move on the other.
The sound of the front door unlocking catches both of your attention. Hyunjae pulls away from you faster than your brain can comprehend what exactly just occurred. Jacob is the first to walk in, laughing at something Eric said. The three males pause when they see you’re not alone.
The greetings are quick, Hyunjae dapping up the boys as if nothing. He’s also quick to say goodbye, ensuring them that he’ll make sure you’re safe when they’re not around. He gives you that smile of his, the one where his eyes form crescents, and then he’s gone.
You don’t know how much more of this you could take.
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“So, Y/N…” Eric starts in the middle of dinner, side eyeing you as he shovels rice into his mouth. “You and Hyunjae have been together an awful lot lately.”
Kevin snorts, kicking the blonde under the table. You suppose it was going to come up eventually. This ‘Will They, Won’t They’ back and forth shit was starting to tire you out. You weren’t getting any younger. Time was passing you up the longer you waited to just say something. And with all that’s been going on, it was silly to be afraid of admitting your feelings.
“He’s being a good friend, Eric,” Jacob sighs, reaching across to flick him on the forehead. “It’s actually really nice that he watches over Y/N when we’re gone.”
Eric grimaces, rubbing the spot that Jacob assaulted. You frown a bit when you realize that he had a point. Hyunjae was treating you like a child that had to be tended to, babysitting you like you weren’t capable of holding your own. Granted, both times he’s come over, you asked him to. So you couldn’t really blame him for assuming you wanted him around to protect you.
“Do y’all think Hyunjae actually likes me? In a non-platonic way?”
Kevin’s spoon clatters onto the floor and they all pause their banter to look at you. Every time your feelings for Hyunjae were brought up, you chose to ignore them and switch the subject. You can’t keep running away.
“Uh— yeah. Duh. Of course he does. I don’t know anyone else who would go out of their way to stay with someone they saw as just a friend multiple times a week so she felt safe.” Kevin finally answers after a moment.
“Okay.” You settle on, taking a sip of your water.
“What do you mean ‘okay’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shrug.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
As you’re washing the dishes after dinner, you hear the news broadcast over the faucet. Another victim had just been found behind the campus library. The camera shows the scene behind the reporter, something that would’ve made you queasy a couple days ago, but now you feel nothing— just a dull ache in your chest. It’s messy, almost like the killer was in a hurry to get it over with.
The body is covered with a black tarp, paramedics wheeling it away in the corner of the screen. The reporter still wears that dissociated expression on her face as she goes over the details of this victim. She explains that because the murder was done so haphazardly, they were able to identify the body easily.
Twenty three year old Kim Mingyu, Sports Med Major.
The rest of the news report sounds like static in your ears as you scrub away at the dishes mindlessly. Your fingers have pruned and the water was burning the backs of your hands, but you don’t feel it, too checked out to care. It seemed like the killings were getting closer and closer to you. Part of you thought you’d be next every single time.
You had to tell Hyunjae how you felt. It was now or never.
Fifteen minutes later, he’s waiting outside of your apartment complex, leaning against his car. You take careful steps down the stairs, nearly fainting at the sight of him in a hoodie and grey sweatpants. He runs around the car to open the passenger door for you, only shutting it when you’re all buckled up. It’s not long after that he revs the engine and drives off to nowhere in particular, just like you requested. (Curfew ignored.)
It’s silent at first, save for the low hum of his music, R&B that resonates somewhere within your soul. You can’t help but steal a glance from your peripheral, fisting your sweatshirt when you see how concentrated he looks while driving. He has his right hand resting on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. You could’ve had this view all to yourself so long ago had you just spoken up.
“Hyunjae,” your voice is wobbly, but you steel yourself to continue. “I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Do you think— uh— do you think you could pull over?” If you were going to confess, you wanted him to look at you. Besides, the drive was starting to make you jittery.
He nods and goes a bit further, before pulling into an empty lot. He shifts into park, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn his body towards you, giving you his undivided attention. You mirror him, tightening your hold on your sweater when he wets his lips, smiling at you. “Is this what you called me for?”
“Yeah, actually,” you force yourself to keep eye contact, pushing the lump back down your throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years now, if I’m being honest with both of us.”
He chuckles, much like he did the other night over the phone. It drives you just a little crazy. “I’m listening.”
“I— I don’t know how to word this properly…” You wipe your palms on your legs. Come on, Y/N, spit it out already. “Fuck, okay, I like you Hyunjae. Like, really like you. In the way that I sometimes wish you would kiss me until I can’t breathe. I’ve been so afraid of admitting that to myself, but I’ve realized that life is way too short to dwell over the fear of rejection. But please, tell me you feel the same.”
He stares at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. You feel like throwing up now, you stomach twisting and churning at the thought that you just ruined everything between you. There was no going back after this. He knew.
It’s as if months have passed by in utter silence with Hyunjae just sitting there, no words coming out of his mouth, until finally, he just leans across the center console, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. His vision is trained on your lips, his face close enough that his lashes flutter against your skin. God, he was even more gorgeous from this distance.
Instead of saying anything, he presses his lips to yours, a sweet but desperate kiss that melts away all the worries tucked into your head. They feel so soft on your own, molding together in near perfect timing. It’s like you’d been living for a year without rain and this kiss was the shower that saved you from a drought. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and needed and more.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathes when he pulls away slightly. “The real thing is so much better than I imagined it would be.”
For once, time slows down in this moment, almost like the world stopped spinning on its axis. Everything slips from your mind and it’s just you and Hyunjae, here in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot. Nothing else matters. You smile at his confession, a genuine smile that was spurred on by contentment rather than force. You felt light and airy, no longer weighed down by such a trivial problem.
“I think I have an idea,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his face. “I’m not too sure, though, I could be wrong. Could you do that again to help jog my memory?”
Hyunjae laughs, (it’s the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard) but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. You reciprocate his passion, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He sighs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. Your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. The thin material of your fleece shorts hardly hide the feeling of him under you, a low moan pushing into his mouth.
He nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin from your sweatshirt. You whine, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. His hands slide under your top, rubbing up and down your sides before moving them down to your thighs, repeating the action.
“You’re so gorgeous on top of me like this, Y/N.” Hyunjae says, just above a whisper like someone else might hear this intimate conversation. He grips your hips and bucks upwards to grind into your clothed core. Your eyes widen and you involuntarily moan at the sensation. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you planned to confess, but you didn’t hate the outcome. He grins at your response, reconnecting your mouths sloppily.
If you were given the choice, you were wholeheartedly satisfied with just this. You would’ve been plenty okay with just making out. Had you been asked years ago that you’d even get this far, you would’ve snorted in your own face, so why should you be greedy and want more than what you had? (That’s not to say that you didn’t.)
“H-Hyunjae,” you stutter, your brain foggy from all of the kissing you just did. “Do you…?”
You trail off, not sure how to word your question. You didn’t want to come off like a sex crazed maniac, but you didn’t want to come off like an amateur virgin either. Truth of the matter is, you were neither, but it had been a while since you indulged yourself in something of this sort. And this time it would be with Hyunjae, the one person you never thought you’d do this with. You were nervous.
All you wanted was to be entwined with him in more ways than one. You wanted all of him— the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the sick, the healthy. He could do no wrong on your eyes and you wanted to show him that.
“Do I…?” Hyunjae trails off, waiting for you to continue.
“Do you want to make love… with me?” This had to be the single most mortifying moment of your life. You cover your face in humiliation, shying away from him when he sits up on his elbows.
“What kind of question is that?” He asks with a chuckle, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eyes. “If I could make love to you every hour of the day, for seven days a week, I would. I want you all the time, Y/N. Earlier today, before we got interrupted, I wanted to do unimaginable things to you.”
You hide yourself in the crook of his neck, your skin flushing hotter. Weren't you wearing too many layers? The car was starting to feel stuffy. Hyunjae’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath you, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. This is probably the gentlest he’d be with you all night, because from what you could infer, he was a manhandler.
“Take care of me,” you breathe, mouth brushing against his pulse point. “Please.”
Hyunjae stops holding himself back. He’d do whatever you asked of him, only hoping you’d be tied to him in every lifetime, just like this one. He kisses you again with an unrivaled fervor, slipping his hands inside your sweatshirt and touching you everywhere physically possible. They’re warm on your skin, palming your breasts over the flimsy fabric of your bralette.
He helps you get rid of your top and shorts, leaving you in just undergarments. The sight of you barely clothed sends him into a frenzy, especially knowing it’s for his eyes only. You aid Hyunjae in pulling off his hoodie and yanking his sweatpants down his long legs. The minute most of your restrictions are gone, Hyunjae brings you closer to him. He hisses at the contact, the warmth of your cunt through your panties putting him under a spell.
You whimper when his touch travels down your front, sneaking into the waistband of your underwear. The pads of his middle and ring fingers apply the lightest amount of pressure onto your clit the second he finds it, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your nails on one hand dig into his shoulder while the other trails down his abdomen, rubbing up and down his length through his boxer briefs.
Hyunjae groans into your kiss and you gasp for air as you tear from him, resting your forehead on his to watch as you get each other off through your clothes. If earlier was something taken from one of your wet dreams, what did this constitute as? You clench around nothing when he pushes up into you, your wrists clashing. Knowing he was just as down bad for you as you were for him just made this all that much more real.
“I need to feel you around me,” he mumbles in your ear, dipping his fingers in and out of you languidly as if to explain what he meant. “Let me stretch you out.”
You nod in response, fumbling with his briefs. Hyunjae lifts his hips enough for you to help him out of them. You groan when he reveals his impressive size, wondering how exactly he expected you to take him. He pushes your panties to the side, mimicking the sound you just made when he sees your bare pussy drooling for him. You eventually get frustrated and line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. A voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. At first you stay still like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.
“H-holy shit— you’re s-so deep, Jae,” you cry, resting your forehead against his yet again. He pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling you every single time.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” Hyunjae grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. “So tight, too.”
Your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of instantaneously. He bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly closer to him, thrusting up into you. This new angle allows him to find that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars, fogging up your brain and even your vision.
You cast a downward glance at the minimal space between where the two of you are connected. Your moans and whines grow louder with the view of every thrust of his hips into yours. Hyunjae sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. Any more stimulation and the band in your stomach is snapping.
You’ve had sex before. You’ve slept with a handful of other guys in the past, but nothing could ever compare to this moment. Your cunt had already memorized his size and every vein, effectively ruining the chances of any other man doing this with you. Lee Hyunjae had you in a chokehold whether he realized it or not. He had you wrapped around his finger without really trying, but you could never complain.
Your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last much longer, shutting his eyes tightly. “C’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his own. “Wanna cum so bad for you, Hyunjae.”
“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart,” he pants, the thumb on your hip pressing against the bone. “Where do you want me?”
“Inside,” you babble. “Please, please. I want you to cum inside me, Hyunjae.”
He kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans with something completely opposite of what he’s already given you, and that’s what sends you spiraling, fluttering around him. He groans, spilling into you and letting you milk him dry of everything he has to offer, painting your insides just like you asked him to.
You lay like that for a while, Hyunjae’s dick still buried in you to the hilt. Both of you attempt to catch your breaths and bring yourselves down from the well-anticipated euphoric state you just visited. You giggle at the condensation coating the windows of his car, extending your arm to draw a heart and a smiley face with your finger. He slowly pulls himself out, hissing at the sensitivity, but doesn’t make a move to get you off of his chest.
Where do you go from here? A line had just been crossed and you weren’t entirely sure you knew what he wanted from you. It’s one thing to imagine kissing and fucking someone extensively. But it was another to actually want a tangible, romantic relationship from them, to actually capacitate feelings for them.
“I love you,”
You jolt up and stare at him with widened eyes. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? As if he can read your mind, he nods. There’s a dragged out sigh, followed by him sitting up slightly with you perched on his lap.
“I really do, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for years and I’m willing to do anything for you.” He admits, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss him gently, the pad of your thumb swiping across his cheekbone.
“I love you, too.”
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The Saturday after your night in Hyunjae’s car brought everything into perspective for you.
You hadn’t spoken to him since he dropped you off at your apartment and it was beginning to worry you. Even though you made sure he reciprocated your emotions, there still could’ve been a misunderstanding. Had you been too forward? Did you scare him away? Did something happen to him? Whatever the explanation was, you didn’t like the eerie feeling it started brewing in your stomach— it was foreboding.
In spite of not talking to them at all in what seemed to be a month or so, you tried calling each of your mutual friends to see if you could get some answers. Not even his roommates picked up their phones and this made you much more uneasy. You pace back and forth in your living room, nicking at your bottom lip with your nails. Why did he choose now of all times to ghost you? What went wrong?
Kevin comes out of his bedroom a couple minutes later, expecting to grab his morning coffee as usual. When he finds you nearly on the brink of insanity instead, he decides to intervene. He supposed his caffeine could wait until his best friend was calmed down. You jump in surprise, holding a fist to your chest. He raises his hands in mock surrender.
“Didn’t mean to startle you, my bad. What’s up? Why do you look like you’re going through a quarter life crisis?” Kevin asks you, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Is everything okay?”
“I—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know…”
His eyebrows furrow and he guides you to the sofa so you could sit down. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”
“Hyunjae hasn’t talked to me since Thursday night, after he brought me back here,” your voice is hoarser than you’d like it to be. “I-I texted and called him a bunch but he hasn’t replied. I even— I even tried Juyo, Sunwoo, and Changmin. No luck with them either. I’m concerned, Kev.”
Kevin combs through his hair, pursing his lips in thought. “Yeah, okay, I would be too. It's a little weird that none of them are responding. Have you thought of just showing up at his place to check in on him?”
You shake your head. “No, I didn’t want him to think I’m clingy and annoying in case he was there. What if he just wants to get me off of his back and he’s telling them to ignore me?”
“I don’t think that’s the case at all, Y/N,” your friend sighs, putting his glasses on top of his head and running a hand down his face. “Hyunjae has never been that kind of person in all the years we’ve known him. I highly doubt he’d switch up now. Plus, he’s literally crazy about you. I’m pretty sure the guy would move heaven and earth for you if he could. I think there’s a very real and genuine possibility that something is seriously wrong. It’s like— it’s just a gut feeling, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” If Kevin felt this way, too, that would only mean one thing, right? You had to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance that lives depended on it. A quick roll of your neck and you’re standing. “I’m gonna go over there. I can’t leave things unanswered. I can’t wait for a fucking news report.”
The ravenette pats the top of your head. “Be careful, N/N. Please.”
You give him a nod before you’re slipping into your shoes and grabbing his car keys. You’re not exactly dressed for a confrontation if there is one— clad in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt with your university’s crest on it, and socks with sandals— but you were too preoccupied to care.
The drive itself was mentally taxing, your brain dissociating most of the ride. You’re not sure how many of the lights you passed were actually green. The closer you got to Hyunjae’s apartment, the more that trepidation settling in your lower abdomen grew. Throughout your life, you’d never been the type of person who acted on instinct or had a nagging voice in the rear of your head warning you about situations you got into. You usually went with the flow and if you made a mistake, you allowed yourself to learn from it.
However, that was prior to being thrown into a period of uncertainty like this one. Now, all you could do was act on instinct. All you could do was listen to the stupid nagging voice in the rear of your head yelling at you. All you could do was follow the blaring alarms and caution signs in your field of vision. And this time they were almost deafening.
Kevin’s car rolls to a stop outside of Hyunjae’s building, occupying an empty spot three away from the front of the stairs. Your pulse races when you step out of the vehicle and immediately recognize the cars in the spaces beside yours. Hyunjae’s, Juyeon’s, and Changmin’s. You notice a thin layer of dirt caking Juyeon and Changmin’s, as if they’d remained unmoved for a long time. Perturbed wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was going through your mind.
Half of you was terrified to take a step towards the stairs, let alone ascend them to Hyunjae’s floor. What would go down when you reached his apartment? What would happen the moment that door opened?
You ball your hands into fists, the edges of your nails jabbing the skin of your palms. The pain steels you enough to move forward, walking up the stairs slowly. There’s a chill tiptoeing along your spine the whole trip up, like your body knew what you were getting yourself into before you did. Maybe you were stupid. Only an idiot would lead themselves blindly into a scenario without knowing the outcome.
It’s been minutes of you staring at the slightly rusted numbers on Hyunjae’s door before you register that you’re standing in front of it. If you're being honest, you have no idea what you’re doing. You were acting on autopilot— progressing without a thought of what’s coming next. A shuddered breath leaves your lips and you raise your knuckles to the door.
The first knock is too soft to hear if the inhabitants were in their bedrooms, so you apply more force the second time. The sound reverberates through the hall, a wince appearing on your features. If someone was inside, surely they had to have heard that one. You wait a little longer for the door to swing open and reveal one of your friends looking perfectly fine. For Juyeon to showcase that grin of his that reaches his eyes and ask what you were doing here. For Changmin to give you that sweet smile that puffed up his cheeks and ask what you needed. For Sunwoo to blow a raspberry before he laughed at how silly you were for stressing over them. For Hyunjae to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that he loved you. You were praying for that.
But no one showed up on the other end of that doorway and you were stuck glaring at that same painted board of wood.
That’s what sends your instincts into overdrive. Your hand grabs the knob, twisting it just in case. It makes a full rotation, pushing open the door the tiniest bit. You peek inside carefully and find all the lights in the living room and kitchen off. Your teeth bite down on your lip as you enter the apartment. One of the things you hated about it, was the annoying buzz of the fluorescent lights in their bathroom. And for some reason, that was all that infiltrated your ears.
The door for said bathroom was cracked just a tad at the end of the hallway, but what caught your attention was the room closest to you— also cracked the most miniscule amount. You see light filtering through, an almost orange glow like that of a desk lamp. Your stupidity would be your downfall, you conclude, your feet gravitating to the room. It’s Hyunjae’s you recall when you’re outside of it. They always say curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t help but revert to a feline and nudge it open with your foot.
You really wished that saying was just that— a saying.
Eric sits ahead of you, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. There’s a piece of fabric gagging his mouth and his clothes are tattered, blood staining nearly every inch. A long gash runs along his left bicep and a myriad of smaller cuts litter his face and arms. What your focus lands on first are the several deep stab wounds on his thighs.
A hand comes up to cup your mouth to keep yourself from screaming at the sight of your best friend in this position. He struggles against his restraints, muffled cries for your assistance shattering your heart into a thousand pieces like broken shards of glass. Tear streaks mixed with dried blood cover the apples of his cheeks.
“Oh my god, Eric,” your voice wobbles as you scramble to free him. “Oh my god…”
You pull down the fabric in his mouth first and he gasps for air. His eyes widen at something behind you and he warns, “Y/N—!” before he’s interrupted by your yelp. The person pressed into your back has their arm around your neck with a hold tight enough that you can’t escape, but loose enough that you can breathe, the blunt edge of a knife grazing the column of your throat.
“Tsk tsk, Youngjae. You should know that making so much noise when your killer’s not in the room just alerts them of suspicious activity. That’s survival 101, my friend. Isn’t that right, sweet sweet Y/N?”
No.
No. No. No. No. No.
This wasn’t happening.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Please, let her go, Hyunjae.” Eric begs. Hyunjae hums, nuzzling his nose in your hair. He rolls his eyes and scoffs after inhaling your scent, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“God, you’re a mouthy one. Not even Juyeon and Sunwoo were this chatty when I slit their throats— then again, it's not like they could talk much anyway.” He snorts.
You felt sick. You were lightheaded now, just at the thought of your friends gone. “W-why are you doing this?”
Hyunjae grumbles, pouting his lips. “Time for me to unravel my evil villain monologue, huh?” He slips a hand under your sweatshirt and pinches the side of your waist. “Well here it is; what you’re dying to know. The first incident was by complete accident, we were simply having a discussion about why he shouldn’t have been staring at your ass while his girlfriend was next to him at Jeong Jaehyun’s end of summer bonfire. The dude got pissed off that I called him out and tried to start a fight, but I shoved him so hard, he fell and hit his head on a rock. I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel bad about it so I left him there like nothing. From then on, anyone who came between us or remotely hurt you in any way wound up on the receiving end of this knife. Funny isn’t it? How you’re the one beneath it this time?”
It all began to fall into place once he laid the cards out on the table for you to read. The guy you ran into Tuesday after class. Poor Kim Mingyu, who just wanted to pass his English final. Your friends not picking up their phones. And supposedly it was all in the name of love.
“Y-you did that for me?”
“Of course, baby,” Hyunjae mutters into the shell of your ear. “I said I’d protect you didn’t I? I just want you all to myself.”
“What the fuck does that possessive bullshit have to do with me? What did it have to do with Juyo or Changmin or Sunwoo?” Eric cries. “Oh god, what about—?”
“Sangyeon, Hoon, Chanhee, Hak? Yeah, those four were taken care of way before my own roommates. You, obviously, were the chosen one this go around. Then it would be Kevin and lastly, Jacob. I planned on stopping after you three unless absolutely necessary.”
“How is any of this fucking necessary? You’re psychotic,” the blonde exclaims, still wriggling in his restraints. “Why would Y/N want you after all of this? Did you really believe she’d never find out about what you’ve done?”
Hyunjae glides the smooth edge of the blade against your skin and releases you from his grip, but takes a hold of your wrist, placing the handle in your grasp. He urges you forward, closer to Eric. “If she was scared of me, don’t you think she would’ve tried harder to escape me? Didn’t even blink when I held the knife to her neck.”
The brunette kisses your temple and you watch the fear in Eric’s eyes morph into defeat. “After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since eighth grade, Y/N. Eighth fucking grade. And this is how it ends?”
“H-he loves me,” you stutter, glancing at Hyunjae. “Don’t you?”
“You don’t kill your best friends out of love, Y/N! He’s insane! Please, don’t let him get into your head. You’re not that kind of person.” Eric attempts to reason.
Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. Who knows? That didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjae loved you. He loved you so much that he’d kill for you. Over and over and over again.
It was kind of comical that you loved him all the same. You, too, would kill for him. Over and over and over again.
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