CRASH for XIUJAEMIN
For: xiujaemin
Title: Crash
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/?
Rating: PG-15
Warning(s): swearing, unfinished
Length: 2000+ words, tbc.
Summary: Chanyeol had always been the practical type but things are never what you expect and Chanyeol certainly didn’t expect to wake up to a neat, bright red string secured tight on his pinky finger.
Author's note: It’s actually unfinished and I’m sorry! ;A; it’s a TBC but hopefully this will make you happy for now! ;A; please wait patiently and anticipate the continuation because it is a piece I am excited too for! ^_^ Hope you like it~
It’s a drunken night at a busy club in the dark back streets of Kun-cheon District when Chanyeol’s friends throw a birthday party for him. He never was one to celebrate his birthday because well, everyday should be a celebration of his awesomeness. They surprise him with a neatly-decorated chocolate cake and a neatly-dressed escort.
The cake’s not quite in his taste because he’s on a diet. His mother keeps on teasing him about his “chubby wubby little cheeks getting a teensy weensy bit chubbier and wubbier”. The escort however is right up his alley.
As the flaming candles flicker brightly in the shadiness of the club, his friends egg him on to make a wish.
“Dude, cmon, make a wish!!” Yixing screams a little too loudly under the influence.
“Yixing, you know I don’t believe in-” Chanyeol protests
“Dudeeeeee, cmonnnnnnn,” his voice pulls out into a drawl.
“Okay, fine, fine, I got it. I’ll make your stupid wish,” Chanyeol submits.
There were an endless list of possibilities to what he could wish for.
Perhaps something big like world peace or to end poverty. Yeah, that’d be nice but it’s so generic, ugh. A million dollars? Nah, money’s nothing. Too much money can be a problem too. Hmm, how about-
“Oh my god, dude, you should totally wish for your one true loooOoooOoove,” he says with a little too many stars and hearts in his eyes and his lips going a little too far into a kiss-shape.
“Yixing, please. If sober you were to see drunk you right now, sober you would be very, very, very embarrassed.”
“Whut.”
“Nevermind.”
And with that, Chanyeol closes his eyes tightly. Since he never really liked celebrating his birthday, he never really had many birthday cakes. Hence, he never really had any candles to birthday blow out either or birthday wishes to make for that matter.
The possibilities continued to run through his mind and with the rhythmic beat of the bass pumping in his eardrums, Chanyeol gives in.
Oh what the heck.
And he makes Yixing’s crazy suggested wish - to meet his one true love.
Chanyeol never really believed in all these lovey dovey philosophies - true love, love at first sight, soulmates. He think it’s impossible. How can it be that out of the 7 billion people in the world and counting, there’s only one person who’s truly meant for you. And how on earth, literally, are you going to find that one true love? Do you have to sail to every continent and through every sea? It was stupid and unrealistic and a waste of time. Hence, Chanyeol remained insistent on a practical-type of love ; one where the numbers added up and the logistics played out perfectly.
But things never really end up the way you expect.
The rest of the night proceeded on with a blob of alcoholic beverages, loud music, stupid dances and of course, girls. Not that Chanyeol really remembered anything because like all his other friends, he woke up the next day with a thumping migraine and a mouth stinking of vomit.
However, much unlike everyone else, Chanyeol woke up the next morning with something strange - a dainty red string attached to his pinky finger. Still groggy from the adventures of the night before, Chanyeol examines the string, utterly confused.
What the hell?
The string is knotted cutely on his pinky and so he tries to undo the knot. No matter how much force he applied or how precisely he tried to pick apart the strings, it just would not budge. So he followed the string. It trailed across the floor of his bedroom all the way outside and down the stairs. It was like the world’s longest snake. With every step down the stairs or turn in the corridor, he thought that that would be the end of his search but boy, was he wrong.
The string continued all the way outside his house and had him absolutely captivated. He was strongly focused on this weird little red string and only this weird little red string. Only when he heard the piercing scream of an old lady did he turn to realize that he was still in his underwear.
Oh dear lord, save me.
His cheeks turned a scarlet red, almost as bright as the string attached to his pinky.
“I’m so sorry, Miss. I, just.. this string.. and I.. I woke up with.. uh...”
The old lady looked at him, terrified out of her wits as if she’d just seen an alien.
“Um, how about you just turn around and .. carry on with this beautiful day... in the other direction,” Chanyeol suggested politely.
With her mouth still agape, she slowly nodded her small, wrinkled face and turned her hunched back to slowly pad off in the other direction.
Chanyeol heaves a sigh as the old lady goes away and turns around to continue his dutiful search for The End of the Red Ribbon. As he glances off into the distance, he spots a little line of red going far far far away. He shakes his head and closes his eyes.
It can’t be. It’s just an illusion. If this is a fucking joke I swear-
Then it hits him. Yixing. Birthday.
Fucking Yixing.
He sprints to back to his house to change into more appropriate clothes in order to keep his beautiful body from shocking even more minds and exploding more ovaries. Then he sprints all the way to Yixing’s house.
Anxious, he knocks on the door continuously for what seems like ages before Yixing finally yells out, “I’m coming!!!”
A very sleepy blonde-haired boy peeks out of the door and squints his eyes at Chanyeol.
“What do you want?” Yixing asks, stifling a yawn.
Controlling his anger, Chanyeol simply lifts his pinky up and shoves it into Yixing’s face. It takes sometime for Yixing to adjust his eyesight to focus on the string and spot it clearly but when he finally gets it, he calmly says, “What?”
His absolute tranquility and ignorance in the same exact time where Chanyeol is bursting with fire and frustration simply fans the flames within his heart even more.
“What do you mean ‘what’?! Is this a joke? Dude, it’s not funny okay. Stop trying so hard.” Chanyeol scoffs.
“How is it a joke? Do I look like I’m laughing?”
“Exactly. It’s not.”
“Exactly. So I didn’t do it.”
“Fuck.”
Yixing invites Chanyeol in like the caring best friend he is and together, over steaming cups of coffee and some stale but edible bagels, they analyse this peculiar red string attached to dear Chanyeol’s pinky.
Yixing suggests cutting it at least and Chanyeol agrees. What does he have to lose?
Yixing scrambles over to the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors while Chanyeol waits anxiously in the living room.
“Okay, so how are we going to do this?” Yixing asks.
“Hmm... well, I don’t know. I guess you.... take the scissors and throw it out the window.” Chanyeol replies with a blank stare on his face.
“What.” Yixing doesn’t do well with sarcasm.
“..Throw it out the window. Y’know? They say if you throw the scissors out the window, THE STRING WILL BE CUT. GOD DAMN IT JUST CUT THE STRING OH MY GOD ZHANG YIXING,” he says impatiently.
“Chill bro. Chill, I got this.”
Slowly, Yixing inches the sharp silver blades towards the bright red string. Chanyeol pulls it tight. With one swift, confident snip, Yixing presses the handles together and waits for the soft whoosh of a slice and the gentle drop of the string.
But it doesn’t come. Not even after he tries it once more, twice, thrice. He fumbles and gets impatient with the string, deliriously cutting it again and again and again to find the same dumbfounding result. It remained in the exact same condition ; mint, not even the slightest hint of a crumple and most importantly, completely in tact and fully attached. Not a single fray or thread gave way.
Chanyeol and Yixing stare at the string in silence and disbelief.
“Do you not know how to use scissors?”
“Does it look like I used them wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Does it look like it did its job?!”
“Fine, fine. Don’t trust me and my cutting skills. Try for yourself smart-aleck.”
“I will. Psht cutting skills psht, yours are obviously non-existent. Lame ass shit.”
“The honours shall be all yours then, young scissors master,” Yixing says as he generously offers Chanyeol the sleek pair of scissors.
This time, Yixing holds the string taut and Chanyeol closes in on it with the scissors. He widens the blade and then carefully, he snaps it closed. A snicker rolls out of Yixing when Chanyeol lifts the scissors to find the string still perfectly fine. Provoked, Chanyeol can’t help but go on a cutting rampage, quite similar to the one Yixing had just went on. Snip snip snip was basically all that you could hear as Chanyeol’s eyes zoomed in onto the scissors and the string.
After all his hard work and his many tries, he remained unsuccessful.
“Who’s the lame ass shit now?” Yixing says with a smile forming at the tip his lips.
“Yeah yeah.. so what are we gonna do now man?”
“Hmm, okay. Think about it this way. Everything has a beginning and an end. So, if this string is the beginning or the end, we could trace it back and find the original beginning or ending.”
Chanyeol heaves a heavy sigh. Why does he seem to only be forever bombarded by freight trains of unfortunate events?
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks for helping me out, Yixing.”
“....Helping..you...out?????” Yixing cries out with a confused look on his face.
“Yeah, you’re coming, right? Joining me on this spectacular trip across the glove to find the magical source of this string? ‘Cause y’know that’s what best friends are for right?”
“...Oh. Right, yeah of course, I’m coming. Psht, best friends? Please, I got so many best friend awards I can’t even count them all. Oh, dude. You’re so lucky to have me,” Yixing scoffs.
“Yup. Sooo lucky,” Chanyeol announces, waving his pinky finger in the air.
They leave Yixing’s house and the trail continues on the walkway to the right. It’s a sad day to be stuck following a lifeless thread of red. It is sad for the sky is beautiful. The breeze is beautiful. The songs of the birds and the buzz of the bees are beautiful.
While the sky and the trees blend into a swirl of light blue and green, and the birds swoop gracefully down in a game of hide and seek, Chanyeol and Yixing are too busy keeping their eyes on a stupid string.
The thread seems to go on for miles, leading the pair on an endless journey to nowhere. They speed-walk past millions of shops and stores that end up fusing into a flurry of shiny shop windows and colourful signs. Some people stare and sometimes they get so flustered focusing on the string that they don’t realize where they’re going. On one occasion this leads them to bump into a young child on a skateboard and two more bumps on their heads.
The sky seems to be turning a shade purplish red as the sun slowly fades back into his comfortable blanket of clouds and triggers the transitioning of the stars, the process of which we call, the sunset.
The ceaselessness of the whole thing tires them out and makes Chanyeol place even more concentration on the bumpy concrete sidewalk littered with sketchy ads, crumpled receipts and pink spots of chewing gum. It sort of turns into a blur but what keep him sharp is Yixing popping in every now and then with a very drowsy, “Are we there yet?”
To which Chanyeol would respond, “Does it look like I even know where ‘there’ is?”
“Right. My bad.”
This would repeat every 5 minutes or so and normally Chanyeol would get annoyed when a similar conversation plays during their summer road trips but this time, he’s grateful.
He’s grateful because only a great friend like Yixing would accompany him on what was probably the most stupid and pointless trip ever made on the face of the earth. And he’s grateful Yixing’s keeping him on track. Who knows how long it would have been before Chanyeol dozed off to sleep in the middle of the sidewalk if not for Yixing’s relentless whining.
Chanyeol’s taken to counting the steps and the squares. He tries his utmost best to keep his toes in the tiny grids as if the deeper lines separating them were lava. It makes him look stupid, like a ballerina. Not that ballerinas look stupid but big monkeys trying to be ballerinas do.
Each time they turn a corner, he amps his goal. He started small. 50 squares, no touching the sides. Then it became 100, then 150, then 200, then 250 and now, 300.
It was getting a little tough with the weariness and darkness settling in but he could make it, he had to. If he couldn’t even find the end of the damn string, the least he could do was go home with an achievement of 300 squares unlocked and in his pocket for the ride home.
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CRASH
-TBC-
Title: Crash
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/?
Rating: PG-15
Warning(s): swearing, unfinished
Length: 2000+ words, tbc.
Summary: Chanyeol had always been the practical type but things are never what you expect and Chanyeol certainly didn’t expect to wake up to a neat, bright red string secured tight on his pinky finger.
Author's note: It’s actually unfinished and I’m sorry! ;A; it’s a TBC but hopefully this will make you happy for now! ;A; please wait patiently and anticipate the continuation because it is a piece I am excited too for! ^_^ Hope you like it~
It’s a drunken night at a busy club in the dark back streets of Kun-cheon District when Chanyeol’s friends throw a birthday party for him. He never was one to celebrate his birthday because well, everyday should be a celebration of his awesomeness. They surprise him with a neatly-decorated chocolate cake and a neatly-dressed escort.
The cake’s not quite in his taste because he’s on a diet. His mother keeps on teasing him about his “chubby wubby little cheeks getting a teensy weensy bit chubbier and wubbier”. The escort however is right up his alley.
As the flaming candles flicker brightly in the shadiness of the club, his friends egg him on to make a wish.
“Dude, cmon, make a wish!!” Yixing screams a little too loudly under the influence.
“Yixing, you know I don’t believe in-” Chanyeol protests
“Dudeeeeee, cmonnnnnnn,” his voice pulls out into a drawl.
“Okay, fine, fine, I got it. I’ll make your stupid wish,” Chanyeol submits.
There were an endless list of possibilities to what he could wish for.
Perhaps something big like world peace or to end poverty. Yeah, that’d be nice but it’s so generic, ugh. A million dollars? Nah, money’s nothing. Too much money can be a problem too. Hmm, how about-
“Oh my god, dude, you should totally wish for your one true loooOoooOoove,” he says with a little too many stars and hearts in his eyes and his lips going a little too far into a kiss-shape.
“Yixing, please. If sober you were to see drunk you right now, sober you would be very, very, very embarrassed.”
“Whut.”
“Nevermind.”
And with that, Chanyeol closes his eyes tightly. Since he never really liked celebrating his birthday, he never really had many birthday cakes. Hence, he never really had any candles to birthday blow out either or birthday wishes to make for that matter.
The possibilities continued to run through his mind and with the rhythmic beat of the bass pumping in his eardrums, Chanyeol gives in.
Oh what the heck.
And he makes Yixing’s crazy suggested wish - to meet his one true love.
Chanyeol never really believed in all these lovey dovey philosophies - true love, love at first sight, soulmates. He think it’s impossible. How can it be that out of the 7 billion people in the world and counting, there’s only one person who’s truly meant for you. And how on earth, literally, are you going to find that one true love? Do you have to sail to every continent and through every sea? It was stupid and unrealistic and a waste of time. Hence, Chanyeol remained insistent on a practical-type of love ; one where the numbers added up and the logistics played out perfectly.
But things never really end up the way you expect.
The rest of the night proceeded on with a blob of alcoholic beverages, loud music, stupid dances and of course, girls. Not that Chanyeol really remembered anything because like all his other friends, he woke up the next day with a thumping migraine and a mouth stinking of vomit.
However, much unlike everyone else, Chanyeol woke up the next morning with something strange - a dainty red string attached to his pinky finger. Still groggy from the adventures of the night before, Chanyeol examines the string, utterly confused.
What the hell?
The string is knotted cutely on his pinky and so he tries to undo the knot. No matter how much force he applied or how precisely he tried to pick apart the strings, it just would not budge. So he followed the string. It trailed across the floor of his bedroom all the way outside and down the stairs. It was like the world’s longest snake. With every step down the stairs or turn in the corridor, he thought that that would be the end of his search but boy, was he wrong.
The string continued all the way outside his house and had him absolutely captivated. He was strongly focused on this weird little red string and only this weird little red string. Only when he heard the piercing scream of an old lady did he turn to realize that he was still in his underwear.
Oh dear lord, save me.
His cheeks turned a scarlet red, almost as bright as the string attached to his pinky.
“I’m so sorry, Miss. I, just.. this string.. and I.. I woke up with.. uh...”
The old lady looked at him, terrified out of her wits as if she’d just seen an alien.
“Um, how about you just turn around and .. carry on with this beautiful day... in the other direction,” Chanyeol suggested politely.
With her mouth still agape, she slowly nodded her small, wrinkled face and turned her hunched back to slowly pad off in the other direction.
Chanyeol heaves a sigh as the old lady goes away and turns around to continue his dutiful search for The End of the Red Ribbon. As he glances off into the distance, he spots a little line of red going far far far away. He shakes his head and closes his eyes.
It can’t be. It’s just an illusion. If this is a fucking joke I swear-
Then it hits him. Yixing. Birthday.
Fucking Yixing.
He sprints to back to his house to change into more appropriate clothes in order to keep his beautiful body from shocking even more minds and exploding more ovaries. Then he sprints all the way to Yixing’s house.
Anxious, he knocks on the door continuously for what seems like ages before Yixing finally yells out, “I’m coming!!!”
A very sleepy blonde-haired boy peeks out of the door and squints his eyes at Chanyeol.
“What do you want?” Yixing asks, stifling a yawn.
Controlling his anger, Chanyeol simply lifts his pinky up and shoves it into Yixing’s face. It takes sometime for Yixing to adjust his eyesight to focus on the string and spot it clearly but when he finally gets it, he calmly says, “What?”
His absolute tranquility and ignorance in the same exact time where Chanyeol is bursting with fire and frustration simply fans the flames within his heart even more.
“What do you mean ‘what’?! Is this a joke? Dude, it’s not funny okay. Stop trying so hard.” Chanyeol scoffs.
“How is it a joke? Do I look like I’m laughing?”
“Exactly. It’s not.”
“Exactly. So I didn’t do it.”
“Fuck.”
Yixing invites Chanyeol in like the caring best friend he is and together, over steaming cups of coffee and some stale but edible bagels, they analyse this peculiar red string attached to dear Chanyeol’s pinky.
Yixing suggests cutting it at least and Chanyeol agrees. What does he have to lose?
Yixing scrambles over to the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors while Chanyeol waits anxiously in the living room.
“Okay, so how are we going to do this?” Yixing asks.
“Hmm... well, I don’t know. I guess you.... take the scissors and throw it out the window.” Chanyeol replies with a blank stare on his face.
“What.” Yixing doesn’t do well with sarcasm.
“..Throw it out the window. Y’know? They say if you throw the scissors out the window, THE STRING WILL BE CUT. GOD DAMN IT JUST CUT THE STRING OH MY GOD ZHANG YIXING,” he says impatiently.
“Chill bro. Chill, I got this.”
Slowly, Yixing inches the sharp silver blades towards the bright red string. Chanyeol pulls it tight. With one swift, confident snip, Yixing presses the handles together and waits for the soft whoosh of a slice and the gentle drop of the string.
But it doesn’t come. Not even after he tries it once more, twice, thrice. He fumbles and gets impatient with the string, deliriously cutting it again and again and again to find the same dumbfounding result. It remained in the exact same condition ; mint, not even the slightest hint of a crumple and most importantly, completely in tact and fully attached. Not a single fray or thread gave way.
Chanyeol and Yixing stare at the string in silence and disbelief.
“Do you not know how to use scissors?”
“Does it look like I used them wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Does it look like it did its job?!”
“Fine, fine. Don’t trust me and my cutting skills. Try for yourself smart-aleck.”
“I will. Psht cutting skills psht, yours are obviously non-existent. Lame ass shit.”
“The honours shall be all yours then, young scissors master,” Yixing says as he generously offers Chanyeol the sleek pair of scissors.
This time, Yixing holds the string taut and Chanyeol closes in on it with the scissors. He widens the blade and then carefully, he snaps it closed. A snicker rolls out of Yixing when Chanyeol lifts the scissors to find the string still perfectly fine. Provoked, Chanyeol can’t help but go on a cutting rampage, quite similar to the one Yixing had just went on. Snip snip snip was basically all that you could hear as Chanyeol’s eyes zoomed in onto the scissors and the string.
After all his hard work and his many tries, he remained unsuccessful.
“Who’s the lame ass shit now?” Yixing says with a smile forming at the tip his lips.
“Yeah yeah.. so what are we gonna do now man?”
“Hmm, okay. Think about it this way. Everything has a beginning and an end. So, if this string is the beginning or the end, we could trace it back and find the original beginning or ending.”
Chanyeol heaves a heavy sigh. Why does he seem to only be forever bombarded by freight trains of unfortunate events?
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks for helping me out, Yixing.”
“....Helping..you...out?????” Yixing cries out with a confused look on his face.
“Yeah, you’re coming, right? Joining me on this spectacular trip across the glove to find the magical source of this string? ‘Cause y’know that’s what best friends are for right?”
“...Oh. Right, yeah of course, I’m coming. Psht, best friends? Please, I got so many best friend awards I can’t even count them all. Oh, dude. You’re so lucky to have me,” Yixing scoffs.
“Yup. Sooo lucky,” Chanyeol announces, waving his pinky finger in the air.
They leave Yixing’s house and the trail continues on the walkway to the right. It’s a sad day to be stuck following a lifeless thread of red. It is sad for the sky is beautiful. The breeze is beautiful. The songs of the birds and the buzz of the bees are beautiful.
While the sky and the trees blend into a swirl of light blue and green, and the birds swoop gracefully down in a game of hide and seek, Chanyeol and Yixing are too busy keeping their eyes on a stupid string.
The thread seems to go on for miles, leading the pair on an endless journey to nowhere. They speed-walk past millions of shops and stores that end up fusing into a flurry of shiny shop windows and colourful signs. Some people stare and sometimes they get so flustered focusing on the string that they don’t realize where they’re going. On one occasion this leads them to bump into a young child on a skateboard and two more bumps on their heads.
The sky seems to be turning a shade purplish red as the sun slowly fades back into his comfortable blanket of clouds and triggers the transitioning of the stars, the process of which we call, the sunset.
The ceaselessness of the whole thing tires them out and makes Chanyeol place even more concentration on the bumpy concrete sidewalk littered with sketchy ads, crumpled receipts and pink spots of chewing gum. It sort of turns into a blur but what keep him sharp is Yixing popping in every now and then with a very drowsy, “Are we there yet?”
To which Chanyeol would respond, “Does it look like I even know where ‘there’ is?”
“Right. My bad.”
This would repeat every 5 minutes or so and normally Chanyeol would get annoyed when a similar conversation plays during their summer road trips but this time, he’s grateful.
He’s grateful because only a great friend like Yixing would accompany him on what was probably the most stupid and pointless trip ever made on the face of the earth. And he’s grateful Yixing’s keeping him on track. Who knows how long it would have been before Chanyeol dozed off to sleep in the middle of the sidewalk if not for Yixing’s relentless whining.
Chanyeol’s taken to counting the steps and the squares. He tries his utmost best to keep his toes in the tiny grids as if the deeper lines separating them were lava. It makes him look stupid, like a ballerina. Not that ballerinas look stupid but big monkeys trying to be ballerinas do.
Each time they turn a corner, he amps his goal. He started small. 50 squares, no touching the sides. Then it became 100, then 150, then 200, then 250 and now, 300.
It was getting a little tough with the weariness and darkness settling in but he could make it, he had to. If he couldn’t even find the end of the damn string, the least he could do was go home with an achievement of 300 squares unlocked and in his pocket for the ride home.
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291
292
293
294
295
YES
296
297
298-
CRASH
-TBC-