Alright so get this, I have never liked nuts because I once was violently ill after having a nut bar and also when I have had them on stuff it made my throat funny. So we are eating pudding last night and it had nuts in it and I am like, “nahh I don’t like this really” and my Mum just goes, “yeah not surprising really when you were younger and had allergy blood tests it came up that you were slightly allergic.” THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN VITAL INFORMATION I COULD HAVE DIED
That song in ep 5 of part 2 where the get Down Brothers are joined by the Zulu Queens, The Notorious Three and all the B-boys and B-girls with the Grandmasters watching over them is fucking everything. They could have ended the episode after that and I would have been fine but nahh they had to fuck up everyone’s storyline
(A/n): lmao I was gunna’ write this and then I remembered this request
Request: Idk if requests are open but i ADORE you’re writing???? And i was wondering if maybe (if you want!) You could make a mark, tyler, and ethan with reader again? Idc what situation, thank you so much!!!
Warnings: Swearing mixed with bullshit and fluff
“No, no see? Ethan doesn’t have any.” you declared.
You lightly poked at the blue boy’s cheeks making him smile even wider.
“What is the percentage of humans that do have dimples?” Mark asked.
The four of you were sat outside under the inkwell sky. Soft yellow light that was produced from the porch lamps and sizzling fire were the only sources of light around. The L.A air was thick with a gentle heat from around the firepit, but had a crisp bite when you were out of range.
“I don’t know, like twenty?” you answered.
“Mark doesn’t have any.” Ethan pointed out.
You shifted your stare to look upon the dark haired man in the lawn chair beside yours. Squinting your eyes, you looked at him intently.
Mark didn’t move.
“Penis.” you demanded bluntly.
Mark couldn’t help but childishly break down laughing, along with Ethan.
You viewed his cheeks briefly before looking at Ethan “You’re right.”
Tyler smiled at you and chuckled a bit. You looked down at your crossed legs.
“None of you have any. Wow.” you commented, peering back up.
“What about you?” Ethan questioned, shifting calmly to look at you. A smile broke his face.
“Nahh.” you replied nonchalantly.
“No, you do. I’ve seen them.” Tyler defended, smiling a bit wider.
Your eyes caught sight of Mark wiggling and whining like a kid “Whaat? You have dimples and Tyler is the only one that gets to see them?”
“No, because even he hasn’t seen them because they don’t exist.” you challenged.
All Mark did was get up and strut to stand in front of you.
You looked away from him briskly, turning to face Tyler.
The bright night stars reflected off his irises and he beamed at you. To him, you mouthed the word ‘help’.
“(Y/nnnn), can I see your face please? I only want to spit on it.” Mark asked sweetly.
You shook your head wildly and squirmed a bit in you lawn chair “That’s rape.”
“May I please see your face?” The brunette asked with a bit more force.
“The Lord will slaughter your grandchildren for your crimes.”
“Pleeeaseeee??” he whined again, reaching a large hand down to you. Behind him you could hear both Tyler and Ethan already giggling.
“I REQUIRE AN ADULT!” You laughed, still not looking at him. You wiggled a bit more, eyeing behind Mark in caution “Be careful, Mark, there’s a fire there!”
“Shut up and look at me!” Mark laughed on his own.
His hand found your jaw and he pulled it to make you view him directly.
You were laughing profoundly now and so was everyone else.
“You liar, you do have dimples!”
(A/n): Well, if this isn’t cute, then I don’t know what is
me: what the hell am i doing with my life? i understand 1 word out of 25… does they have a slower version? should i ask them to stop for a second? maybe i should try to guess what they say… nahh… i’ll just agree and smile
oversleeps. Then, he remembers that he’s just run out of coffee beans. After
going through his morning routine, he realizes that he has a problem set due
later this afternoon and that he hasn’t finished the last three items.
matters worse, JJ declares through text that they’re going clubbing tonight,
which is one of the many things Seung-gil hates about the world. He knows he
can’t avoid the Canadian no matter how hard he tries, and he silently
surrenders to his classmate’s agenda.
He goes out
of his dorm, following the way to the coffee shop near campus. It’s just open,
only two or three people in line. Stepping inside, he looks over at the assortment
of today’s selected sandwiches and pastries. He contemplates getting one, and
if ever, how many calories it might contain. Of course, having a slice of cake
for breakfast is impractical. A sandwich, on the other hand, is something he
can eat on the way to class, and would have relatively less empty calories than
a cake. He weighs his options on beef pastrami on focaccia, or Canadian bacon
and egg white on whole wheat. Knowing the composition of the breads, whole
wheat has more fiber, which is something he looks out for in his carbs. While
the egg white is a good protein source, the presence of bacon cancels it out a
bit. It looks good, though. Should he take it at face-value and indulge for
today, or should he play it safe and go for the (practically) healthier option?
makes a decision, but is broken out of his mental calculations when someone
He sighs. Of
course the hyperactive barista, the one who holds the line up every two people,
would remember him even after not coming by for almost two months.
diverts his attention from the food on display to the barista in question, his
smile as blinding as ever. It seems to have gotten infectious now, and
Seung-gil stops himself from smiling back.
says. “I’ll get a me-”
no-water Americano, iced, with a splash of Irish cream syrup,” the barista-
Phichit, his nametag reminds him- recites. He gets a paper cup and starts
writing down the specifics of the drink. “Coming right up!”
mouth still open in mid-sentence.
says. He stops writing, but continues to look at the cup in his hand. “Did I
get it wrong? It’s just, I remember you always used to get this when you’re
stressed out. And… you look pretty stressed to me,” he explains as he looks to
Seung-gil again, gesturing to the space between his eyebrows. “Did you want
something different today?”
“I was just
surprised,” Seung-gil replies, “that you remembered.” He decides not to comment
on the stress, though.
exhales, relief seeming to flood through him. “Well, with an order like that,
how could I forget? No one’s ever asked me to make that before, and I guess I
thought it crazy at first, but I tried it for myself a few days later and it
was really good! Now I have it every time I have to pull an all-nighter,” he explains,
eyes shining, a stark contrast to the depth of his charcoal eyes.
blinks. No one’s ever praised him for his choice of caffeine before. At a
situation like this, the safest option would be to thank Phichit for saying
that. But knowing the barista in front of him, he might take it as a signal to
talk some more. Would Phichit talk about more unique drinks that people have
ordered, or would he shift the topic to the weather forecast for the week? As
much as Seung-gil, reluctantly, would want to listen to the boy speak, the line
of people behind him is getting longer, and he wouldn’t want to be the cause of
their irritation at seven in the morning.
“Uhh.” Words are
a bit harder to get out now for some reason, but he manages to croak out, “How much
do I pay you?”
Phichit says. He presses a few times on the screen in front of him. “$2.49,
he hands the money to Phichit. As he gets his receipt in return, their fingers
brush together just slightly. Seung-gil flinches, and Phichit, judging by his
he exclaims. “I didn’t mean to. I mean, I can tell you’re not really a physical
person, so I should have been more careful!”
alright,” Seung-gil assures him, pulse quickening and hands sweating. He gives the barista a slight nod, something
he hopes conveys goodbye, and as his order is called he makes his way to the
pick-up counter where his drink is waiting.
He picks it
up, stabs the top with a straw, and walks out the cafe.
good morning, Seung-gil! :), the scribble on the paper cup reads in
bubbly, cursive handwriting. God, he thinks, even the message seems to be
glowing with sunshine.
He takes a
sip, and is immediately grateful for the burst of caffeine and slight
alcohol-flavored sweetness on his tongue. He feels his lips twitch into a
smile, and tells himself it’s the coffee and not the boy whose eyes seem to
twinkle despite their deep charcoal hue. He tells himself it’s just the coffee
kicking in, making him forget about this morning’s misfortunes, and not the boy
whose smile is as radiant as his handwriting and his smileys.
class today, he almost forgets, is organic chemistry. With the way his day
started, he was anticipating it to just go downhill from there, but this time,
he feels that he’ll make it through without feeling frustrated for the rest of
himself that, yes, of course it’s because he had coffee.
because of the Thai boy who looked at him as if he handed him a deep, dark
secret the world wanted to know.
because Seung-gil knows it’s physically impossible at this point for him to
develop feelings for someone he’s only seen for a few minutes today.
because Seung-gil knows that feelings are a nuisance and completely irrelevant
to his academic life.
With that, he
quashes the thoughts of Phichit on his mind, downs the last few milliliters of
his drink, and throws both the paper cup and his unnecessary feelings into the
after he gets to his classroom that he realizes he forgot to buy that sandwich,
but it doesn’t bother him. At the back of his mind, he wonders why that is.
When Sana stepped out of her room, her eyes glued to the screen of her phone, it would be an understatement to say that she was startled when she bumped into someone’s chest. An exclaim of surprise escaped her lips, and she looked up from her phone to see Yousef, grinning from ear to ear.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you - damn, I see you’re busy. That must be one interesting phone,” Yousef said with a teasing tone, making Sana raise her eyebrows in an attempt to buy herself some time to come up with a witty comeback.
“I see you’re living here these days. Having some separation anxiety from Elias, already? I think he’s in the kitchen,” she said, making Yousef laugh and run his hand through his messy hair in a nervous manner. He shook his head, flashing Sana another one of his adorable smiles she so liked.
“Nahh, just on my way to the bathroom,” he said with a mischievous glimmer in his brown eyes that told Sana that he was lying about the bathroom - that, and the fact that the bathroom was at the other side of the apartment. Either Yousef was a really bad liar or he didn’t really care about getting caught - both seemed suitable for his nature.
“Oh, you were? Well then I reaally hate to tell you that you’re a bit lost, pal,” Sana said with a smirk and watched as Yousef leaned to a nearby doorway in an obvious attempt to seem relaxed and chill. He gave the girl a small shrug as an answer, giving his lie away immediately: he was not going to the bathroom. This was all part of his little plan, which made Sana kind of impressed.
“You said it. And I was wondering if you wanted to give me your number,” the boy said with a blunt tone, making Sana raise her eyebrows again. Yousef apparently saw the questions in her expression, since he was quick to continue: “You know, just in case I get lost again.”
For the first time in Yousef’s presence, Sana let herself laugh. It wasn’t loud, it didn’t last long, but it was just enough to let Yousef see the twinkle in her dark eyes and her smile that managed to make him smile, too. And when her laughter faded in a few seconds, he could still hear it in the silence, still see the joy in her eyes. And for a fleeting second he was not only happy, but proud that he was the one who made her laugh.
“Uh, I guess. Just in case,” Sana answered, shaking her head. Yousef smiled again, that kind of smile that reached from ear to ear and light up his entire face. He handed his phone to the girl and ran his hand through his hair again, and Sana typed in her number and handed the phone back to Yousef.
“Thanks - I’ll text you,” Yousef with a grin, “if I get lost again, I mean. Just in case.”
Sana shook her head and smiled at the floor. “Yeah, just in case.”