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bedtimebrain · 4 years ago

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EXO Chanyeol: Oppa?

First Chanyeol Scenario! And have you heard his ‘Without You’ ? Damn it got me stunned when i listened, i didnt know it was going to be the one by Mariah Carey. I mean ofc chanyeol doesn’t speak perfect English but what can get more attractive than him playing the electric guitar😭 His film’s gna be released globally soon, wish him the best!

Also I took so long to write this, that by the time i’m done, he has enlisted:,) Sigh, Chanyeol, see you the 27th of every month!

Characters: Chanyeol x reader

You caught Chanyeol’s attention, but… You’re not so into rowdy guys. How will it turn out?

Ding Dong!

You were outside EXO’s dorm with a bottle of Cola. You didn’t really know EXO, in fact you only actually knew Jongin. The story goes where one night you saw a really sick man swaying side to side along the streets. Being the nice and kind soul you were, you went up to help. And that person turns out to be jongin, which at that point you didn’t know was an EXO member until much later when your friend showed you an EXO poster.

You helped him to the apartment building and you left your number with him out of worry because he insisted he head up alone. After that you guys somewhat became friends. And ever since you knew he was a celebrity, you occasionally ran errands for him just to save him some trouble.

‘Annyeong y/n! Thanks for buying the cola!’

‘Sure Jongin oppa! I’ll be leaving then !’

‘WAIT!!!’

Just as you were about to leave, a shout came from inside the house

‘Annyeong Jongin Chingu! Are you free? Wanna join us? I wanted to play a 2v2 switch game but we are short of 1 person. THERE’S PIZZA HERE TOO, ARE YOU INTERESTED?!’

Honestly, you haven’t even spoken once with chanyeol but here he is, trying to aggressively convince you to play games together. Not exactly an extrovert yourself, that overpowering energy was quite a turn off for you. You raised a brow at Jongin, trying to ask him to get you out of this situation

‘Erm.. Actually, i...’ In your mind ran a 1000 different thoughts on what’s the best way to politely reject this but you just couldn’t think of any, just then jongin finally cut in, only to say

‘Yeh come join us! It’s going to be fun, plus I’m sure you haven’t eaten dinner too’

Although you were a still a little reluctant, you relented for the sake of Jongin and entered the house. Seeing Sehun was also in the house, you both greeted each other politely and you proceed to sit quietly by the dining table.

‘LET’S EAT QUICK CANT WAIT TO TRY THE NEW GAME’ Chanyeol just sounded overly excited about this.

Over dinner, Chanyeol in particular was really friendly with you, probably just trying to make you feel comfortable as he tried to get to know you. But after a while, the conversation floats back to him talking about himself. You weren’t complaining though.

‘Okay so that day..’ Chanyeol begun his 5th or 6th anecdote during the dinner but couldn’t stop laughing before he could even get started on it.

He was laughing so hard he started hitting jongin beside him and his exaggerated movements actually hit the table so hard it toppled your coke glass over onto you

‘oh my gawd!’ you reacted in reflex and got up immediately from your chair.

‘HYUNG! SERIOUSLY?!’ Jongin reacted with shock then laughter. He quickly passed you some tissue

‘Let’s just clean up right now and start the games’ Sehun added calmly

‘Y/N I’M SO SORRY. LET ME GET YOU SOMETHING TO CHANGE INTO, IM SO SORRY’

You could tell Chanyeol was really feeling sorry when you saw that panic in his eyes when the coke spilled. Though it’s really weird to be wearing some other guy’s clothes when you just knew him for hours, you couldn’t be possibly telling him you would only wear jongin’s and not his... So you followed him to grab something to change into

Stepping into his room you can’t help but get abit wide eyed. His room was almost like what you would imagine a musician’s to be. Guitar, piano, bass, iMac, subwoofer etc. You were so amazed you couldn’t stop glancing around as he tries to uncover some clothes from the depths of his cabinet.

Finally finding it, chanyeol turned around and caught how your face literally wrote ‘amazement’, he couldn’t help but laughed beneath his breath before handing a sweater to you.

‘Why do you look so amazed? Your expression made it look like you just walked into a museum.’ Chanyeol asked

You felt embarrassed from his question and was absolutely tongue tied. Looking towards the corner of the room you caught sight of a basketball and a miniature basketball hoop. You quickly switched the topic

‘um you play basketball too?’

‘Yes I do! Like in my free time, once in a while. Outdoor activities keep me sane when I feel like I need a break, apart from jamming of course, as you can see. Why, do u play too?’

‘Oh I see, haha. And yes I play basketball too.’

‘I wasn’t expecting that! You really dont look like it though! What’s...’ before he could finish his sentence, jongin came into the room to check on you.

Breaking off that small talk with chanyeol, you changed out of your dirty top into the sweater. Sigh, the game hasn’t even started but you were almost already drained.

—-

2 hours into the game, you were getting really really sucked out of energy. Looking at chanyeol still so engrossed in the game, you wonder how could he still remain so fired up.

Just then the bell rang and the boys looked at each other,

‘Who’s that? Any of you got delivery ?’ Sehun asked as he walked towards the door. Looking through the peek hole before opening the door.

‘Ah Suho Hyung, why did you not open the door on your own’ Sehun asked

‘I left them in the car, too lazy to grab it. Oh, hi y/n, what you doing here?’

Feeling really tired now, your honesty got the better of you and you replied without thinking

‘Hi Suho-ssi, I got called to play some games, but now i’m stuck here’

‘Ya, you punks , it’s really late now you know. It’s way past 1030, Y/N still needs to walk home. Just shut off the game right now.

And Chanyeol didn’t you say you were meeting your high school friends tonight?’

At this Chanyeol loudly cursed then exclaimed

‘AH RIGHT I FORGOT! I GOT TO GET CHANGED NOW’

Phew, Suho surely is a life savior. More than happy to be out of this situation, you quickly packed your stuff and thanked the boys

‘I’ll be leaving, thanks for having me today and the free pizza.I had fun. Jong-in oppa please tell Chanyeol ssi i’ll wash his sweater before returning to him.’

At the same time chanyeol came out from his room hastily,

‘Y/N wait for me! Let’s leave together!’

You would have preferred having some quiet time by yourself right now, but you didn’t want to make things awkward by saying no. Seeing how Chanyeol got comfortable with people so quickly was beyond your understanding.

You were always took really long to warm up to new people unless you could really click with them, just like jongin.

‘Ah thanks for waiting, let’s go! Where do you stay? Is it near?’

Trying your best at a comfortable and casual tone, you replied ‘Uh yes it’s just about 5 to 10 minutes away if I walk. Where you going to?’

‘Oh just meeting my friends for supper. Let me walk you home since it’s not too far, anyway my friends are still on the way

So you were saying you play basketball do u watch nba or something ? What position do you play’ Chanyeol naturally strike a conversation with you

‘I DONT really follow, but yeh I check out the highlights and stuff. I play the Center position’

‘SERIOUS?! YOU’RE NOT VERY BUILT FOR A CENTER!’ You must be really good then!’ Chanyeol seemed to genuinely be amazed

Chuckling a little, you just shrugged and said

‘Erm yeh but the coach just thinks I’m pretty tough I guess.’

‘Oh and i heard from jong-in you didn’t know EXO until recently, so what music do you like ?’

Feeling a little self conscious about the fact that a musician is here asking you bout your music taste, you answered hesitantly

‘ R&B, acoustics, ballads , those sort? Ed Sheeren , AKMU and some other English oldies’

‘Then do you know ‘Without you’ by Mariah Cary? I’ve been listening to it lately and it’s been stuck in my head!’

Laughing at how random that was, you softly started singing along with him as he started.

At this hour of the day, at about 11 pm your mind isn’t too functional to overthink, you felt like you were loosening up towards him. Though he was a little too over enthusiastic and animated, you somehow liked that he seemed to have this innocence to him.

Just as your short jam ended, you have also reached your apartment

‘I’ve reached! Thanks for walking me back. Bye, drive safely later!’

You flashed a smile, bowed politely and was ready to head in, but chanyeol actually called out before you could head off

‘y/n! Wanna exchange numbers? We could go shoot some hoops at arcade someday or just ball.’

You were not too keen actually, wanting to just keep your relationship with him as simply acquaintances. Thinking bout how to put the rejection across nicely , you said

‘Oh, thanks for offering. But I’m really not a night person . And you know, you guys being EXO and got to be stealthy , everything goes on at night. Really not my thing though, I don’t think we can ever match a time.’

But turns out he was more insistent than you thought

‘Oh then I could invite you for games or a jam session ! I wouldn’t say we have exactly similar tastes in music but I do like the music you listen to and you sound great singing!’

That made you blush a little , partly embarrassment partly being shy at his straightforward words.

‘It’s fine chanyeol-ssi, I’ll just see you at your dorm when I pass by to see Jongin oppa and return your sweater. Bye’

—-

For the next 2 weeks, you somehow got more frequent calls from Jongin to run errands for him. But when you turned up at their dorms and Chanyeol was in, he would either be the one to get the door or be inviting you in for whatever they were doing.

Today afternoon, you were over at their dorms again, but just with jongin and chanyeol. You had bought tteokbokki and corndog for yourself and decided to buy some for EXO too, but turns out it was just the 2 that were in.

‘ah, y/n thanks for the food. i’m going to change and leave for dance practice soon’

‘you’re welcome jongin oppa, i’ll leave soon too’

just as jongin headed to the room, chanyeol took the chance to ask

‘y/n are you free? Do you want to hangout together instead? Since i’m free today and you’re already here.’ Chanyeol asked expectantly.

You were already much more comfortable with him, but together in the house? You wouldn’t even with Jongin.

‘Erm, Chanyeol-ssi, it’s okay. I’m not too comfortable staying in the house with another guy ..’ you said it hesitantly, feeling a little bad for rejecting him.

‘Oh actually, I meant to head out, there’s this place which I thought both of us will like’

oh shucks, that was embarrassing. In an attempt to cover up your embarrassment, you laughed abit harder than you should and agreed more enthusiastic than you would normally

‘OH ! HAHA! Ok, sure then let’s go!’

Almost instantly, you saw Chanyeol’s eyes brighten up. He got up immediately got changed and you both headed out.

—

In the car ride, you finally calmed your senses down and became sane enough to realise

‘Chanyeol-ssi it’s still pretty early right? Wouldn’t you heading out with me like this be really dangerous?’

Stopping his incessant rap and singing ever since you got in his car, he replied

‘There’s this arcade I used to go to when I was a student. It’s really old now and no one really goes there anymore. It closes around 5pm everyday , but I know the boss! I’m gonna ask him to just let us use the place for a short while’

With one hand on the steering wheel, he looked at you and was bubbling with excitement as he explained. You laughed seeing how excited he was, somehow also making you look forward to the fun to come.

Being really chatty as usual, he spoke the whole ride about anything and everything, slowly without even knowing, you dozed off.

The next moment you woke up, the sun was already starting to set and you’ve both reached the arcade, which was on the second floor along a shophouse street.

It looked so rundown and shady from the outside. The signboard was unlit and had completely yellowed. The window panes were blue tainted and so dusty you could see the dust from the streets.

‘Chanyeol Ssi are you sure about this? Please don’t bring me to a haunted house’

‘Ya, trust me, you’ll be surprised’

Together you headed towards the dark staircase that led you guys to the arcade. You struggled to catch up with his pace as he went up the stairs. The narrow and unlit staircase made you so jumpy that when the lights suddenly came on, you quickly latched your hand onto chanyeol’s sleeves without thinking.

Laughing at how scared you were, chanyeol slowed down his pace, walking side by side with you instead.

‘Why you so scared! We’re reaching soon, don’t worry, it’s hella cool place!’

Not really having the capacity to respond now, you continued holding on to his sleeves until you reached the end of the stairs.

Letting go, you awkwardly said thanks and entered the arcade, finding that it was certainly better than you thought but not fantastic.

‘Lee Soo Hyung! I brought my friend here today , could you let us use for about an hour + after you close?’

‘Chanyeol ah! It’s been a while! After all these years I finally see you with a girl. Hello Agassi, why did you come here with him? Be careful he doesn’t slaughter you like how he does when he plays games with his friends’

Not knowing to whether tears of joy or sadness would fit this situation, you raised your brows at chanyeol.

‘Alright I’ll leave this place to you guys, I’ll be back in about 2 hours after I eat and run my errands’

2 hours passed by in a flash. And you sure had lots of fun, shooting hoops, playing Daytona, Mario kart , and even challenging him to dance on pump it up. All of which u lost rather miserably cause you were just horrendous at games.

As you both left the arcade, you thought back in realisation that you didn’t see that annoying over competitiveness today in him today. Instead it felt Chanyeol wanted to make it fun for the both of you rather than winning you.

Internally feeling a little touched about this, you thought to subtly show your gratitude by treating him later.

Walking out of the stairs to the streets, you saw Baskin Robbins just right across, below a dancing school.

‘Chanyeol ssi! Let me buy you ice cream ok! Let’s cross the road to Baskin Robbins’

‘Haha, y/n why the sudden treat? I’m not complaining though, I want Choco mint in a cone’

You went into the shop and placed the order for the ice cream. But when you came out, there was a commotion right outside the shop and realised chanyeol was in ‘trouble’.

You panicked internally , where did the fangirls come from? They all surrounded chanyeol and were squealing and asking for pictures.

You headed back into baskin Robbins, not too sure what you should do. It’s not going to turn out well if he is seen with you.. Should you head off first? Or should you help him?

With one hand holding on nervously to the ice cream you looked intently at the situation outside, with a total mind blank.

Only about 15minutes later, you saw chanyeol managed to escape back to his car as the crowd in this secluded area eventually died down.

You didn’t head out to find him, worried that if any Fangirls were left, you would land him in trouble.

You stayed at in the shop, looking at the melted ice cream you bought for him, should you just dump this away? Do you head off yourself soon?

Just then a call came in

‘Y/N! Where are you? I’m so sorry I got caught by those dance school girls. Are you alright ? Where did you go ? In case you’re wondering, i got your number from jongin to contact you’

‘Chanyeol -ssi...? Are u ok? I’m just waiting at baskin robbins .. just head home without me, I’ll just find my way back..’ feeling still at loss about the situation, you replied with a heavy heart

‘Ah, no, just head down to the alley behind I’ll pick you up from there. This place is too secluded , I’m not going to leave you here alone’

‘But ..’

‘Just meet me there’

Feeling down and guilty that this was kind of your fault. You walked mindlessly to the alley with the half melted ice cream. If it were not for you, chanyeol wouldn’t even be heading out in the afternoon right?

As you entered the car, you kept quiet not really knowing what to say. But Chanyeol started apologising repeatedly, and telling you about the whole situation earlier

But all that ran through your mind was how risky the situation was and how bad you felt. You were still quite in shock as you processed that just happened

‘Chanyeol ssi, why did you bring me out today? Seeing that made me realise the severity of how dangerous it could have been for you if you were caught together with me.. and I can’t help but feel it’s my fault you got surrounded by those fan girls..’

Pausing before continuing, you added

‘Let’s never do this again. I’m really sorry’

‘Don’t be sorry, i am not even blaming you or anything! Plus i was the one who wanted us to hang outside together. I knew this might happen, but i still wanted to have fun with you’

‘Why Chanyeol-ssi?’

Without thinking, he answered almost immediately

‘Because i just find you cute’

You blanked out completely as those words, you could feel blood rushing through your cheeks.

You started externally processing your thoughts out of nervousness and panic

‘i know this sounds ridiculous but are you like interested in me? i know i am blushing like mad right now but im not really into loud guys. and though i had lots of fun with you just now i think you should just give up if you are even thinking of anything’ you went on rambling not even knowing what in the world you just said

He looked at you seeming to have something to say. But then looked at the messy ice cream and decided to reached for it instead.

‘thank you for this ice cream, and y/n whatever you said…honestly, can i just have 1 thing from you?’

‘uh what is it?’

‘can you just call me Chanyeol Oppa instead?’

Your heart skipped a beat at what he said and you could feel his gaze was still on you.

After a few moments of silence that hung heavy in the air, you shyly and softly asked

‘Chanyeol oppa shall we go back now?’

Still feeling shy to look at him, you stole a glance at the rear view mirror and saw Chanyeol smile the widest smile you have ever seen since you guys met.

Finishing off the ice cream, he started the engine, ready to drive off. But before stepping the accelerator, he looked up at the rear view mirror and you both caught each other’s eyes and both looked away almost immediately smiling shyly when your eyes met briefly.

As the car speeded off, you kept your eyes on the side view mirror, and you were glad you weren’t the only one smiling like an idiot the whole ride back.

Was this a little boring? I read through it multiple times and can’t really tell anymore. i hope it was fun for you guys who read it for the first time~ though i must admit if i read a fanfic with such an ending i might feel lowkey unsatisfied :p

#chanyeol #loey #park chanyeol #exo #exo scenarios #chanyeol scenarios #exo scenario #chanyeol scenario #exo park chanyeol #exo chanyeol #exo fanfic #chanyeol fanfic #the box

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missdreamsalot · 4 years ago

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The Queen’s Guard- CH. 3: City of Angels

A/N: I would first love to thank @lordofhorizons for helping me with this chapter and tolerating my craziness! Love you! <3

And a huge thanks to my amazing readers who continue to motivate me!

Happy reading~ *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

Book: The Royal Romance

Main Pairings: Leo x OC, Liam x OC

Future Pairings: Maxwell x OC, Bastien x OC, Drake x Olivia x OC

Summary: A rotten apple in the family threatens their lives and there is only one way to get rid of bad blood.

Masterlist

Series Warnings: Violence, Language, Sexual Content, Angst, Dark Situations, Character Death

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of The Royal Romance, or Rules of Engagement; they belong to Pixelberry. I only own my OC’s.

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed:

Tags List: @riseandshinelittleblossom, @hopefulmoonobject, @lordofhorizons, @gkittylove99,@kingliam2019, @amandablink, @cordonianroyalty, @cordonianprincess, @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

Ch. 3: City of Angels

“What exactly will happen when this is through?”

Liam peeked over his shoulder. Madeleine was standing behind him, arms crossed rigidly, as he shuffled the papers on his desk. After settling them into neatly placed stack, he faced her while placing his phone in his coat pocket and leaning back against his desk. He had just told her about Tariq and Los Angeles, and the certainty of seeing Elle once again.

Honestly, he didn’t know what was going to happen when the scandal was cleared or how things would go with Elle.

“I need a reply, Liam.” she demanded. “If my position as Queen is at risk, I need to know.” She pushed firmly.

“My intention was to merely confront Tariq to clear Elle’s name. I wasn’t expecting Val-”

“Val? That punk-looking woman?” Madeleine inquired sternly. “You two certainly have a thing for peculiar women. Trashy at that.”

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed in anger. “You want to know the truth? Yes, your position as Queen is hanging on a thread. I am going to L.A to remedy the chaos my father created and win back the woman I adore with all my heart.”

Hurt unmistakably crossed her face as he continued. “And if she will accept me back into her life, I will, without hesitation, make her the queen she was meant to be.”

Madeleine smoothed out the sides of her dress as she collected herself. “Well then. That’s all I needed to hear.” With her chin held high, she closed the space between them. Her slender fingers wrapped around his tie and tugged him forward, forcing him to stare down at her. “Good luck on your trip, but I hope you come to understand what’s truly best for this country....” Pristine nails glided up his neck and as she cupped his cheek, she pressed her red-stained lips against his. He only waited until she pulled away. “…Me.” she affirmed with usual poise.

Satisfied with having the last word, she turned and exited the room, but not before bumping into Drake who suddenly appeared at the doorway.

“Oh, uhh, sorry.” He sidestepped out of her way, allowing her to pass. She said nothing as she moved on. “Always a charm to be around…” he muttered sarcastically. “Ready to go, Liam? Everyone’s waiting out front.”

Liam sighed heavily at having just dealt with Madeleine. “I’m ready.” And to be gone for as long as possible.

Two days have passed since his discharge from the hospital. He felt mostly well, but the aches and pains returned with a vengeance every so often. Regina insisted that he give himself at least a week to recover, but Liam didn’t want to delay his departure any longer. He was eager to get to L.A and see Elle again.

However, he was overburdened with the situation of the bombing. Everyone wanted answers, but he couldn’t give them. The only link that they had was slaughtered by a 100lb direwolf, according to Bastien. Several questions remained about the group she affiliated with and how she escaped her cell. The cameras had been hacked into and disabled and, following that, the two guards keeping a look out were also killed.

In addition, there was no further word from Val.

Once Liam and his group made into the jet that was arranged for them, he took a seat across from Leo.

“Anything?” he asked his older brother, who stared solemnly out the window.

“No.” Leo pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes. “Christ, she drives me insane!” he exasperated. “She is so careless and selfish. Then she goes and disappears without saying anything!”

“Sounds like you’re talking about yourself, Leo.” Drake interjected, which was followed by a glare from the rebellious ex-prince. Those two always seemed to have it out for each other, but Liam couldn’t deny the truth in Drake’s words.

He added amusedly, “Perhaps this is karma? The world has finally caught with you.”

Leo groaned. “This woman…”

“Guess who has the bubbly!” Maxwell burst into the cabin happily. “Pre-celebration for clearing Elle’s name.”

“We shouldn’t get our hopes up.” Drake said, “There are half a dozen places we have to eliminate and who knows if Tariq hasn’t already up and left.”

“Pre-celebration for reuniting with Elle!”

“I don’t think I feel up to it. Sorry, Maxwell.” Liam stated softly. Dejected, Maxwell turned away with a slump in his shoulders.

“Oh, what the hell. Give it here, buddy!” Leo reached forward and Maxwell cheerfully obliged, handing him a glass.

“Valentina apparently had a run in with our father. Under what circumstances, I’m unsure.” Liam stated calmly as Leo chugged down the champagne.

Leo stayed silent, staring down at the empty glass. “I always had my suspicions. I just didn’t want to believe father would go that far… but if he was willing to ruin Elle’s reputation, it wouldn’t surprise me if he said or did something that forced Val to cut things off.”

He chortled half-heartedly. “I feel kind of stupid. She knew who I was, I don’t know for how long or why she never said anything… I would steer clear of the details if she asked and all this time she knew. I just don’t understand why she didn’t just tell me what was going on?” He paused thoughtfully. “I don’t know how I feel about all this…”

“There must be more to it.” Liam reckoned, in an attempt to ease Leo, but it only seemed to irritate him.

His brother gave an audible tsk. “Yeah, her job. That was always her excuse. Spy, hitwoman, whatever she is…Now, I could care less.” He stood up sharply.

“Leo-”

“I could use another drink or two.” Liam looked after his brother worriedly as he walked to the back of the jet’s luxurious cabin. He understood why Leo felt so frustrated with Val. He just hoped he didn’t do anything stupid. ��

The rest of the flight passed on uneventfully, three men brooding about the current happenings while Maxwell was seemingly optimistic about well…everything. They arrived in Los Angeles early afternoon the next day, and after settling into their rooms for a bit they reconvened in Liam’s suite.

Everyone, except for Leo.

“Is this really a surprise?” Drake said, combing a hand through his visibly damp hair.

Maxwell eyes lit up excitedly. “OooOooh, I saw him walking out of the hotel with a smoking hot babe in his arm.”

Liam berated his older brother internally. Dammit, Leo. He was definitely doing something stupid.

><><><><><><><><

Leo entered the building that pulsed with pounding drums and lively shrills from electric guitars. Lights of vibrant colors twirled over the dancing crowd whose excited feet quaked the floor.

“C’mon!” The busty blonde pulled him towards the bar with an enthusiastic laugh. “How lucky am I to have snagged a prince?!”

“Ha.” He clenched his teeth. ‘Probably not your best idea; going out with a zealous fan…’ But he was aching for a night out and needed to get his mind off a certain someone, and ironically, here he was thinking about not thinking about her.

As the band ended the last remnants of their song darkness consumed them until the room glimmered back to life.

Turning back to the bar, he froze in place.

‘Just how much damn smaller could this world be?’

From the looks of it, Val must’ve been in the dancing mob near the stage. With tousled hair and a visible sheen of dampness along her face, she was speaking to another woman near the bar. The blonde didn’t look happy while Val, who appeared laid-back, played off what her friend had said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Val’s gaze glided along the crowd, half listening to her. Until finally, she met his. The piercing kick of an electric guitar cut through the air as the band sparked back to life.

“Here’s your drink, handsome!” His date flashed the cocktail in his face. Breaking away from the surprised look on Val’s face, he refocused his attention on cute Andrea.

“Just what I needed.” He grinned roguishly. “Thanks, beautiful.” His fingers tangled in the back of her hair and he leaned in, capturing her luscious lips. Was he being petty? Undeniably so, and Leo wasn’t afraid of putting on a show.

She moaned as he kissed her deeply and their lips moved sensually against each other. He opened his eyes and allowed his teeth to scrape her bottom lip as Val watched.

A shadow fell over her face, eyes darkening dangerously. Val turned away and reached behind the bar, dragging out her classic black leather jacket. He caught sight of something twinkle underneath the lights but she was quick to hide it away. The bartender acknowledged her with a grin. “Have fun!” He shouted.

Val only responded with a thumbs up and took the stairs to the second floor, her companion following behind.

“Let’s rock out, Leo!” Andrea draped her arms around him, insistently guiding him toward the jumping crowd.

“Whoa!” He took the opportunity to purposely spill his drink. Andrea shrieked, leaping away from the liquid.

“Why you don’t go ahead? I’m going to go grab another one. I need to be able to keep up with you.” He winked. Captivated, she nodded obediently and got lost in the sea of dancers.

Leo traced Val’s steps up to the next level and caught her going through a door at the end of the hall as he reached the top. He maneuvered his way through the swaying bodies, eventually coming face to face with it. On the front it read: ROOF ACCESS. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

He sauntered through without hesitation and up the next set of stairs carefully. The brick cobbled walls braced a steel door at the upper end. It was slightly ajar, tendrils of moonlight and a stream of words seeping its way in.

“…isn’t going to bode well for anyone…for Danielle especially, and she is in no condition to fret.”

Leo peered through the crack. Both women had their back to him. They were speaking to a middle-aged man with spectacles.

“Why are do you feel so inclined to know?” he asked Val.

Leo couldn’t make out Val’s next words as they flowed in a soft, delicate whisper.

The man’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Valentina. I truly am. All I can say now is to go to your father.”

Val responded. “He’s no help. He practically begged me to never bring it up again, or anything related to their deaths.”

His lips pursed, then he sighed. “There is a distressing reason behind that.”

“Will you tell me?”

“I’m in no position to, but…” A passing breeze concealed his next words, and Leo unconsciously leaned forward causing the door to groan against his weight.

Before Leo knew it, there was a sudden flash of silver and a metallic clang from behind him. The blonde had, without warning or hesitation thrown a fine narrow dagger in his direction. Assuming they were professionals, Leo surmised that it was a warning shot. She seemed more than capable of hitting her target; aka his head.

He pushed the door open with his foot, revealing himself with hands up in surrender. He stared intently at the trio, his eyes eventually resting on Val. Her eyes tore through him with a coldness he never saw before, causing more damage than any other blade could.

The man addressed Val, “Another contact of yours?”

“No. I don’t know who that man is.” Val deadpanned. The blonde began to reach under her coat, but she intervened quickly. “Zinnia, I’ll take care of him.”

“I suppose we’re finished here then?”

“Yes, Thompson. Thank you.” Val bid him farewell.

Thompson passed him with a friendly grin. “Good luck.” He muttered under his breath. Zinnia said nothing but gave him a passing glance as she went back inside.

As soon as the door closed, Leo heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cock.

“Are you serious?” His eyebrows furrowed irritably.

Val took aim and fired… the concrete by his foot split and was left dented by the bullet. She gave a cunning tilt of her head.

“I’m really tired, Leo, and I don’t think I have the patience to deal with you right now, especially after your little stunt in there…” Val said, pointing the smoking pistol at him.

Standing his ground, Leo examined her. Rigid yet calm, her eyes, though blazing with ferocity, also carried a sadness with them. He noticed the dark circles settled underneath and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d lost a bit of weight.

“I’m sorry, okay? But could you blame me for being angry? You left without a damn word.”

She sighed, “I meant to get back to you but I’ve been busy with-”

“Your job?” Leo spat. “It takes just a minute to send a message saying-I don’t know- anything, Telling me that you’re okay?!”

She withdrew her weapon as if the weight was too much to bear. “I don’t have time for this.” Her steps were quick as she attempted to make her way past him, but he blocked her path.

“Please, just talk to me!”

Val gazed somberly at the ground. It was clear that something was bothering her. He was conflicted with whether or not he should push the matter, but he was tired of being left in the dark.

His words were soft. “Help me understand. I don’t want to feel this way towards you, but you’re not giving me much options.” He gently took her arms in an approach to comfort her, but she remained motionless.

When he felt her tremor in his hands, she swiftly clasped his wrist. He observed her with concern. Whatever that was, it wasn’t from the cold. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head as her eyes welled up with tears. “I have to go.” She choked. Allowing her to remove his hands, he stepped aside. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

And Val was gone, leaving him with more unanswered questions and a hollow feeling in his chest.

The rest of the night seemed to move in a haze. He found his way back to the bar, had a couple more drinks, and eventually reunited with Andrea. He indulged her with lustful words and sweet caresses, driving that pitiful cloud above his head away for the night.

Stumbling contentedly into her apartment, clothes found their way to the floor as he lavished her with eager kisses and tantalizing bites. He grasped the heated flesh of her thighs wrapped around him, pressing their bodies firmly together in a tangled mess.

Walking to her bedroom, Leo tripped suddenly, losing his balance. Andrea squealed as she collapsed on the soft, plush carpeting with him on top and they erupted in a fit of drunken laughter.

She pushed him onto his back, climbing over his chiseled body. Her fingers raked down his chest while her lips discovered the tender skin of his neck. He groaned, shutting his eyes.

When he opened them again, Val swam in his vision. “Val…” he sighed longingly.

She smirked, arching her back seductively. “I’m going to take great care of you tonight.” Her hips shifted and he grabbed them tightly as she began to move enticingly against him.

His head fell back as the feel of her enraptured him and he lost himself in the warmth of her touch…

><><><><><><><><

*Knock* Knock* Knock*

Liam stepped away from the door, glancing back at the address Val had given him. He seemed to be in the right place. The apartment complex was well-built and stood strongly despite its vintage-styled architecture. The fourth-floor walls were adorned with antique light fixtures and historical portraits against white panel walls. He recognized the painting closest to him as Rene Magritte’s ‘The Lovers’. The couple in the photo had their faces covered in cloth; a scene that held more significance more than he realized.

He heard sudden movement in the inside and his anxiousness increased. Was it a mistake being here? Should he come back later? It was a bit selfish to assume she was available, but when would it be the best time?

He exhaled heavily.

The elevator dinged down the hall and as the doors opened, a woman’s laughter spilled free. The melody propelled him to turn as it ignited his heart and the feeling only intensified when the sight of Elle invaded his mind.

She stepped out, smiling brightly up at a man who followed behind her, carrying a bag of groceries.

She stopped short upon seeing him, her green eyes widening in disbelief and face becoming considerably pale “Liam?” His name fell breathlessly from her pink lips.

However, his attention was fixed on a part of her that bulged out considerably; round and swollen.

That could only mean one thing: she was pregnant.

#choices leo #choices fanfiction #pixelberry #choices liam #choices liam x oc #choices liam x mc #choices the royal romance #choices trr #prince leo #king liam #trr liam #choices leo x oc #trr leo #trr fanfic #leo rys

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gloomyhearts · 4 years ago

Text

Mellilla || Owen P. Joyner

Chapter four~ you scared the sh*t out of me

Dahlia sift through the peppers to find an acceptable one.

"I need some sweets" Valerie's voice claims.

"I know, you told me million times," she roller her eyes.

"Don't forget, pleaseee,"

The brunette felt a light pressure on her shoulder casing her to turn around and instinctively grab a cucumber as a weapon. Her eyes glued on the person in front of her. The face mask hides most of his face. A cap sitting on his head and a few blonde strands falling out of it.

"Lia?" His raspy voice reached her ears; she didn't hear it in a while.

"Owen?" She knitted her brows.

"Yeah. It's me," he thought about hugging the brunette girl but decides not to, "it's good to see you," he padded her shoulder.

She takes her air pod out of her ear and pausing the call from Valerie.

"Yeah, I mean look at you. Still the charming boy if you wouldn't have scared me to death," she compliments while pointing him up and down.

"You're still stunning yourself," he rubbed his neck.

"Thanks, thanks. It was really nice catching up again but I really have to go," she insists, grabbing her wheel and walking fast and far away from him.

Putting her air pod in again she continues the call.

"Did you paused me D?" Her voice loud, she's definitely heated.

"I'll explain later. I'm back in a few," she ends the call, getting the last things she needed and then pay her groceries.

Her car stopped in the driveway and she steps to the door, fiddling her keys to find the right one as Valerie opened it herself. Her hand was tight around Dahlia's upper arm as she pulls her back inside.

"What the hell?" They walked into the living room, throwing themselves on the couch.

"You'll never guess who I met in the store."

"But you'll tell me."

"It was Owen" Valerie's eyes widened.

"You're kidding right?" Dahlia just shakes her head.

"No way, that's not possible." She paces up and down in front of her best friend.

"I missed him," sadness overflows her body

"I know, sweetheart. But he's an ass, he just left you."

"But it was for his career."

"But he didn't wrote you nor called you."

"You're right. I thought we'd something special."

"Yeah. After our graduation, I thought he'd stay here and wait for you," Val takes her hand, her thumb rubbing small circles on the back.

"I just don't understand why he ghosted me. I remember, everytime I enter a car how he taughted me to drive and I never visited boomerangs again, it was our place," by now Dahlia was in Val's embrace and she strokes her hair.

"Let's watch some TV," she turned the power on and went to the kitchen to bring Dahlia some ice cream.

Browsing through Netflix to find a new show to watch. Dahlia's head laid in her lap and she fiddles with a strand of the brown hair.

"This sounds good," Valerie points with the remote towards the flat-screen, the other girl turns her head to read the description. She shruggs her shoulders as an answer to her friend who press the button and she show starts.

The screen shows a neon sign Orpheum and another sign with Sunset Surve.

Suddenly an electric guitar begins to play.

"This riff is stunning," Valerie brakes the silence and Dahlia just nods shoving another spoon of ice cream into her mouth.

The next point of view shoot was a blonde boy, a pink shirt suited his upper body, half of his hair falling into his face and drum sticks in his hand.

"Hit the break," she shoots up into a sitting position, "what the? That's a joke right? You didn't know right?" Dahlia was now on her feet.

"Didn't you saw it on his Instagram?" Valerie's voice still calm.

"No cause whenever I saw his name I scrolled as fast I could back up," the brunette explains.

She walks over to the TV, laying her hand on the screen.

"But look at his precious face," her finger running over it.

"Dahlia," Valerie steps next to her, arms resting around her shoulders when Dahlia's feet gave in she hold her in position.

"Babe. It's okay, let it go," her hand rubbing circles on her back. Tears streaming down Dahlia's freckled cheek.

Valerie gave her a piggyback ride to her room, setting her down into her bed.

"You need anything? Food, drinks?" But Dahlia just shakes her head.

"Call me if you need anything," the brunette gave her a weak smile, drying the tears on her cheek with a tissue.

"Love you," Valerie turns around and walks off.

Dahlia darkened her room only her LED rose illuminates it. The rose Owen gifted her.

She grabs it and throws it against the wall, she exhales sharply as she notices what she'd done. The girl rushed over where the lamp hit the ground. Thank God it didn't broke and she sighs.

Her phone lit up on the bedside table.

Owenjoyner

It was really nice to see you again Dahlia

What am I supposed to response? What does he want?

The brunette places her phone back down. Dahlia rested on her carpet, her hand strokes over the fabric, calming her vaguely.

She took all her bravery and grabs her phone.

Crueldahlia

Yeah it was nice

Owenjoyner

Maybe we can see each other again

If you want to

Crueldahlia

I don't know

Have a lot to do for uni.

Owenjoyner

Fair enough

She doesn't answer to that, emotionally too unstable; not wanting to blurb something she'll regret in a few hours.

The blonde boy called his best friend.

"I.. I met her," he stutters into the phone.

"Who?"

"Her."

"Really? Dahlia?"

"Yeah in the store. And she.. and she looks gorgeous, more than ever," Owen exclaims.

"And what did you do?"

"Well I walked over to her and taped her shoulder."

"Did she faced you? Did she saw you're walking to her?"

"What.. no. She didn't recognized me at first," he states.

"Well that's bad."

"I screwed, right?"

"You screwed years before, this makes it all worse," Charlie explains.

"But you didn't wrote her, right?" But the blonde remained in silence.

"Dude, that's... Owen what did you write?"

"I wrote 'it was really nice meeting you again Dahlia.'"

"What response you get?"

"'Yeah it was really nice'. After an hour or so."

Owen paced through his room, lifting his cap and setting it down again.

"And I answered after a second 'maybe we can see each other again. If you want to.' And she wrote. 'I don't know. Got a lot of work to do'"

"That doesn't sound enthusiastic," Charlie comments.

"Haha, you're funny," he retorts.

"What did you say?"

"'Fair enough'. I should've asked what she's studying or how she's feeling. I messed up, shit."

"No, Owen shut up. She needs time definitely, don't push her. I mean the last time you've seen each other was," the boys both gulped.

"The night before you left."

"Indifferent that was three years ago."

"I know. But from what you've told. You grew visible inseparable. After all the things you've done."

"I don't know Char."

A message pops up on his screen.

"Dude she answered."

"Read."

Crueldahlia

Well next week is Thanksgiving let's see if it's doable

"She really wants to see you again?"

"Seems like." He threw his phone on his bed and began to dance through his room, taking his cap off his head and toss it into the air.

"I'm back. I'm back," he shouts into his phone.

"I'll answer her."

"Wait. You're looking clingy like you want her back."

"What else would I want?!"

"You're an idiot."

"I know," he ended the call.

Owenjoyner

Sounds amazing

Boomerangs like the old time?

#jatp fanfic #jatp x oc #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #julieandthephantomsimagine #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #julie and the fat ones #owen joyner imagine #owen joyner fanfiction #alex jatp #jatp alex #alex mercer #julie and the himbos #julie and the podcasters #alex julie and the phantoms

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suicidalcatz · 5 years ago

Text

Running in the rain

Pairing : Jake Kiszka x reader

Genre : Fluff / OS

Prompt : 24. “Your romanticism will never cease to amaze me”, for @langdonsluxiouslocks

AN : Hi, it’s been fucking forever. First things first, I’m sorry for my 10 months disappearance. I don’t have any fancy excuse, I just didn’t feel like writing anymore. I thank you if you understand, but I’ll get it if you’re mad at me too.I’m even more sorry to the person who kindly asked for this prompt. Sweetie I deeply apologize, my english is a bit rusty but I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Running in the Rain

It was a really strange feeling, seeing him onstage. And it was even more uncanny the way his head would suddenly raise to stare at me, eyes sparkling with joy. The girls next to me would push and scream, giggling loudly, and I couldn't blame them for thinking it was for them, while I would shyly look away in a vain attempt to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. The truth was that Jake only had eyes for me. But they'd never know.

Some time ago, I too was on the other side of the stage. Sharing forbidden glimpses. The ghost of a touch when his hand would brush past mine across the barricade. Smiles, in the rarest moments. All those memories from a past that seemed so ancient it almost felt like a dream, slowly fading away as days passed.

It was so easy to ignore everything that wasn't Jake, even more so when he was so caught up in his solo. The melody would reach my ears, and the whole world around me would be forgotten. Whether it was the cheering crowd of loyal fans, applauding and whistling. Josh frolicking back and forth on the stage with his oh so charming smile and tambourine. Sam, letting his hands through his long luscious locks before taking a drink, making all the girls cry in awe. Danny, always the serious one, never missing a beat on his drums, even when Jake was leading and going to unknown destinations with his melodies. Even with all of this, the sounds, one by one, disappeared, except for the torturous notes escaping from the guitar. They were all slowly fading to black, leaving Jake the only one under the spotlight of my mind. And with unconcealed admiration, I smiled fondly.

* * *

- I was really surprised to see you here tonight ! You didn't text me so I thought you couldn't make it.

Jake was beaming, glee exhaling through his every pore, still high on adrenaline. He couldn't dream of a better surprise than us being together tonight, and I knew it. It was the very reason why I didn't think twice before booking a flight to see him.

- You know what day we are. I wouldn't miss it for anything.

For a second, I could see him soften at my words, and it made my heart flutter. Such saps we made... and of course Sam was enjoying reminding it to us every damn minute. Tonight, though, he made us the gift of settling for a disgusted grimace instead of a scoff, but nevertheless got kicked out of the dressing room by my boyfriend handing me a drink.

- Me neither, he finally replied, sore throat making his voice hoarser than usual.

Jake was all over me the second he had downed his glass of water, gently pining me against the wall, both arms framing my face, preventing me from escaping him. Like I'd ever wanted to run away from him. Through long lashes, his dark eyes trailed all over me, devouring me without even touching me... And I gladly returned the favor, darting my gaze on his Adam's apple, admiring the way it bobbed when Jake swallowed. Before I even knew it, my eyes were venturing further south, where his unbuttoned shirt reaveled skin covered sweat glimmering in the dim lights of the green room like caramel slowly melting under the sun, yet hiding the best parts behind those few buttons, like it was teasing me, asking me to rip them open. I licked my lips unknowingly and Jake seemed to read the mood because his body not-so-subtly pressed against mine, efficiently trapping me under his hot self, resting his forehead on mine.

- You know..., he huskily whispered, I can think of a few ways to celebrate...

I couldn't help a chuckle from escaping my throat, shaking my head in fake disbelief.

- Your romanticism will never cease to amaze me.

As his only answer, Jake shrugged, lips pursed in a comical « why not » face, and I rolled my eyes, gently pushing his torso to brush past him, arms already crossing against my chest. Swiftly, his fingers locked against the crook of my elbow to bring me close to him once again, his free hand resting on my neck, keeping me in his grasp like he couldn't physically bear for us to be apart even for a minute.

- Do you really think I had nothing planned for us tonight ?

The surprise his words caused made my mouth form a silent O and it was Jake's turn to chuckle.

- You almost had me when you didn't answer my texts, I'll give you that, but everything was already set anyway, y'know, just in case. So... shall we go ?

It was true I got a bit sneaky by kind of making him believe I might not be able to come to his show tonight but, in all fairness it was all bluff, we had planned this together. As romantic as the idea sounded, it was unrealistic to surprise someone as busy as Jake by suddenly barging in without telling him first. Even on our anniversary. The man had a life beside me, and it would've been more than right if he had planned something with the band instead. And yet, after all this time together, Jake still found ways to surprise me. It was like the magic we feel at the beginning of every relationship hadn't worn out, instead settling with us and gracing us of its spark, keeping every touch electric, every moment spent together ecstatic.

Fortunately, no interview was set tonight, and as for the few fans waiting in front of the venue, Jake was the first one to great them while I was waiting for him near the backdoor not to draw attention on ourselves. It was always fun, looking at him exchanging with fans, witnessing his astounded yet admirative face whenever he received gifts, and hugging them tightly with shared respect and love. He didn't look like it, but Jake was a very expressive guy, I had come to learn. You could always read the interest in his eyes when he spoke to a fan, giving them his full attention, and the way the corner of his lips would slowly stretch into a friendly smile when you joked with him. And thus, his joy was communicative. Like a tidal wave of delight hitting everyone around him, and bathing them in warm emotions. We often used the idiom « What you see is what you get » to sell goods, well... Jake was exactly like that. Nothing hidden, just everything laying on the surface... And I really liked what I saw. In a way that might make sense only to me, he was real.

The chilling air of Spring rised in the trees, causing the leaves to whistle, the fans to shiver, and Jake's head to perk up in my direction, checking in on me. A reassuring smile didn't stop him from saying goodbye, leaving the girls in Josh's care to get back to me. Rough fingers found mine, and we disappeared in the dark of the night to our secret rendez-vous.

The evening was quiet, Jake and I's voices chatting pleasantly, interrupting the birds' conversations, breathing in the sugary scent of blooming, just enjoying each other's company. The streets were busy, even at this hour, but it didn't matter. In fact, nothing mattered to us in this moment except the other. Taking the lead, Jake took me into a park near the venue, forcing us to get through fluffy bushes, not really knowing where our feet were going to land on the uneven ground. We looked like little kids going on an adventure in their parents' garden, with him pulling my hand with excitment and merrily shushing me when I asked questions. Playing along, I followed closer as we sunk in deeper into -how Jake called it- the wilderness, pushing aside branches from our way and letting the wild grass caress our calves until he stopped on his tracks, announcing this was the place. And oh, it was. Taking a breath in, I let him gently pull my hand so I could stand by his side.

It was the perfect spot under the stars. We were high enough to admire the city lights, a million of minuscule dots shining lightly in different colors, like a flower field that sprawled infinitely, kissing the sky on its horizon. Opening his backpack, Jake wordlessly pulled a blanket out of it, spreading it neatly in the fluffy grass, motioning me to sit.

- Are we having a picnic ?

- We are !, replied Jake with the same enthusiastic tone while freeing the sandwiches of their plastic prison. Because you know I figured- Who on earth likes fancy restaurants ? All those... gourmet dishes with exquisite flavors, prepared by renowned chefs... Nah, screw that, let's have peanut butter jelly sandwiches sitting on a plaid.

His humor never failed to make me laugh, and by a swift hand motion I slided the tupperware aside and out of the way so I could get closer to Jake, taking his fingers in mine, patting his digits softly, searching for his eyes in the almost darkness.

- It's perfect.

Even if he looked confident, and rightfully so, I felt the need to reassure him and to show him how appreciative I was that he planned this for us. His gaze found mine, pupils dancing, switching their focus from my right eye to the other, before a small smile spread across his face.

- Come here.

Matching words with actions, his hand tangled itself in my hair, pulling me into a kiss. His lips were soft as silk when they met mine, gently pressing against them before he deepened our embrace, sighing into it with content, finally getting the caress we both craved for so long. Becoming needy, feeling touch-starved, calloused palms rediscovered my silhouette, not missing anything ; every shape, every curve, fingers digging into the flesh of my hips with both want and longing, as if I was going to disappear into thin air in a second. Heat was rising to my face, feeling intoxicated by the smell of his cologne, the taste of his still sweat-salty lips, the sensation of his hungry mouth devoring mine, his fingers gripping me, kneading me like dough. I loved every little thing and his whole everything put me on fire, filling me with such strong feelings my chest felt like an over inflated balloon about to burst. That's why when a cold drop crashed on my cheek, I thought I was crying. When another landed on my nose, I thought Jake was the one crying. When the brunette let go of me to look up at the firmament, we both understood too late it was the sky that was.

By the time we were struggling to stuff all of our belongings into Jake's bag, it was already pouring, and the sandwiches were waterlogged, like sponges filled with jam. There was no point in trying to salvage them, so that's how our dinner went straight to the trash.

As soon as we exited the park, we ran our way back to the busy street, like headless chickens, trying to catch a cab, not really knowing where to go, but wanting to do it fast. Around us, people were moving quickly, passing and averting us swiftly, taking shelter in front of shops, in cafés, trying to cover their head with briefcases, purses, or, less efficiently, newspapers. After a little while, though, it became obvious that it didn't matter anymore. The rush of the first drops of rain was way past us now, and we silently agreed to accept our fate. I looked at Jake, with his hair so plastered on his head that a large strand crossed his face, almost blinding him. Black spots had formed on his jeans, progressively darkening the already inky denim. His unbuttoned shirt did nothing for him either, and soon had more similarities with a mop than anything else. It must've been such a sorry sight, the both of us.

- I'm sorry. I should've watch the weather report, he said dully.

With a smile, I shook my head, taking his between my cold sleeves.

- I don't mind. Now why bother when we're already soaked to the bone ?

As if mocking me, our so long awaited taxi passed right by us in a rush, rolling full speed in a puddle of water the size of Lake Michigan, forcing me to take a shower of muddy water. A shiver ran down my spine, aside with all the droplets of rain rolling on my skin like a cold sweat, and I looked at Jake with distress filled eyes. It only took one second for the moron to laugh as hard as he could, taking in the sight of my pathetic self.

- Oh you'll regret that, Kiszka !

We loved to play chase, but getting Jake was difficult. The boy had incredible out-of-this-world reflexes. I had long ago learnt it at my expense, when all of my attacks had been turned against me. If I wanted to catch him, the only way was to act on a whim. And that's exactly what I did. Without warning, I leapt at him, not missing the way his soles slipped on a watery sidewalk as he tried to dodge whatever was coming at him. We were laughing hard when our hands caughted each other, fighting for dominance, ignoring the hurried passersby weird looks. When Jake's slippy shoes betrayed him, I had him cornered against an abandonned shop's doorstep, relishing in the way his yelps got interspersed with excited giggles, adrenaline kicking in as I pulled his shirt out of his pants to stick my soaked sleeves to the dry skin of his hips. He must've feel the cold, cold drops slowly making their way to his lower back and thighs because Jake squirmed under my touch, desperately trying to get away from this torture, but too weakened by the tickling sensation to put up a good fight. As his only way of getting rid of me, he counter-attacked, lifting up my hair with one hand and smacking his other one in my neck, causing me to instantly squeal and tense.

We looked at each other, out of breath and jaw hurting from laughing, eyelashes heavy with droplets, rain tickling our noses, and entering our open mouths. Jake let out a content sigh, caressing my cheek to rub off some of the water.

- Let's call a Uber.

* * *

The first thing we did after stepping foot into the motel room was to abandon our drenched clothes to the ground in favor of a comfy, warm bathrobe. The second was to ease our aching stomaches by ordering some junkfood. Sitting both in the bed while switching the tv channels faster than necessary, I could see Jake sulking in the corner of my eye. It wasn't easy to realize, since he often looked completely lost in thought, but his pout had something distinctive I couldn't quite describe, and he didn't eat much. Losing interest for the torture I inflicted to the remote, I turned my head to him, calling his name softly, waiting patiently for him to speak up. There was no point in lying, I could tell the boy had something on his mind. I just hoped he knew I was here for him.

- I had planned for things to go differently..., he finally mumbled while playing idly with his food. I really wanted this night to be special, you know ?

The remote got discarded, laying at the edge of the bed, as I put my food aside and turned fully to him, sitting cross-legged, giving him all of my attention.

- What are you saying ? This is the best date I've ever had.

- Don't be silly-

- It is, I assured him. Are you kidding me ? Picnic under the stars-

Getting to his feet to put all of our trash in the room's dustbin, Jake cut me off, sighing heavily. I could tell suddenly standing up was his way of pacing, because he felt frustrated that things didn't go as he had planned. When he had an precise idea in mind, he'd always do his best for it to go smooth sailing. But alas, sometimes things just simply didn't go by the book. And it didn't matter.

- Running in the rain, eating junkfood and watching shitty tv reality shows, Jake finished.

- Yeah. With you. Which changes everything. Didn't I come all the way here to see you ? It's the only thing that matters to me.

A silence settled between us, during which Jake was processing everything I just said. His kind brown eyes found mine, and a moment later, a smile spread on his lips.

- You're amazing, you know that ?

There was an absolute fondness in his tone when the words were delivered, a sheer tenderness and gratefulness in his expression, and he took some time to look at me, as a whole, as if considering something, but all I can see on his face was adoration. I never doubted his feelings for me, and probably never will, but at times like these I knew for sure, felt how much he loved and cared for me. Now certain that our date wasn't ruined, he lit up a bit, regaining the nonchalent confidence I terribly liked about him.

- Then if you're still up for it, I have something else for you.

Choosing not to answer my silent questions, Jake left me dumbfounded as he motioned for me to join him next to the bathroom. Gently but firmly, his fingers pressed on my shoulders in order to place my body in front of the bathroom door.

- Ladies first, his hoarse voice came from behind me, awfully close to my ear.

The heat that spread on my cheek and neck where his breath caressed me didn't distract me from the task at hand, curiosity always getting the best of me. But when the door slided open, and Jake switched on the light, my brain shut down, overwhelmed by all it witnessed. My mouth opened, as if to say something, anything, but nothing came out, and Jake laughed, not having wanted to miss the expression on my face. His arms slipped around me, circling my waist lovingly, and his quiet breath tingled the back of ears when he rested his chin in the crook of my neck.

- Well... What do you say ? Still want to continue our date ? The day isn't over already.

- Jake it's- When did you have the time ?

My fingers caressed the soft skin at the top of his hands, wanting to show gratitude but too bewildered to remember how to. Delicately scattered all over the ground were rose petals, their color the prettiest, most intense red I've ever seen contrasting greatly against the bathroom's white floor tiles. Resting in an ice bucket next to the mirror was a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and Jake pushed me inside, making me walk alongside him, then taking the bottle in hand to open it.

- I told you, didn't I ? That I had everything planned, even if you couldn't make it. Now, beautiful, would you mind starting running the water ?

Still amazed by how much thought Jake put into his surprise, I did as I was told, not missing the moment my boyfriend popped the cork, making the champagne scent fill the air, and the foam pour out and on Jake's hands, until it ended up splattering on the floor.

- Nothing better than a hot bath after being soaked by rain, right?

When Jake smiled at me, handing me a glass of champagne, in this hotel bathroom filled with roses, I felt the happiest I've ever felt in maybe forever. In a strange yet terribly logical way, I felt whole.

- I didn't think I could love you more than I already did.

Jake chuckled, getting closer, making our glasses clink, his warm brown eyes watching me as if I was the most precious thing he's ever seen.

- Happy anniversary.

#Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #GVF #gvf imagine #gvf fanfic #gvf fic #gvf x reader

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angstyaches · 4 years ago

Note

All the even numbers of the 100 oc question thing for Payton pls

Milo, darling, thank you! I’m gonna pop these under a cut because it got to almost 3,000 words 😂🖤

2. Do you think you would get along with your oc if you could meet them? What things would you talk about?

Oh god, thinking about this is stressing me out. I’m awkward when meeting anyone for the first time, so we’d probably just be painfully polite to each other and talking about the weather and - agh, no. Don’t make me do it!!

4. Is your oc a daredevil, or more of a scaredy cat? What is the most daring thing they’ve done in their life?

They’re somewhere down the middle. They jumped off a cliff into freezing cold water even though they can’t swim well, because their (now ex) girlfriend wanted to do it.

6. How much thought does your oc put into what they wear/look like? Any reason why?

A lot. Even if they’re wearing something boring like sweat pants and a t-shirt, they’ll have chosen it with careful consideration. Their gender dysphoria shifts so that some days they want to present as masculine, others as androgynous, and choosing the right clothes is their sole way of feeling mildly comfortable.

8. What kind of flavours does your oc like? How much spice can they handle?

Payton has an arguably basic palate, and likes simple and bland(ish) foods. They can handle spice pretty well too, so long as it’s not in huge amounts.

10. What are some of your oc’s pet peeves? How do they handle it when the annoyance doesn’t stop?

Payton gets antsy when they know that other people know a secret and they don’t. Even if it’s nothing to do with them, or with anything they care about, it eats away at them. They get a little whiny and keep badgering people with guesses until they find out what’s going on.

They also hate it when customers at the coffee shop come up to the counter and say “The usual!”, as though they’re the only customer who regularly comes in and orders the same drink. Payton rarely loses their smile when talking to a customer though, and will only complain about it in private later.

12. How well would your oc handle being placed in a leadership position?

Considering they’re a Grade A Pushover, not very well. Payton would get overwhelmed by everyone else’s ideas and needs, and be unable to make a decision knowing they can’t please everyone.

14. What is your oc’s speech like? How loud are they usually? Do they have an accent or a stutter?

Payton is very soft-spoken until they’re made to laugh or feel some other strong emotion, and at that point their voice gets a little high-pitched. (I’m gonna skip the accent bit because I haven’t settled too much on the geography portion of Lucyverse lol)

16. How affectionate is your oc? How do they convey their affection? By being touchy, or through more subtle ways?

Fairly affectionate, and usually good at picking up on when someone needs reassurance. They’ll usually be verbally affectionate, even though they themself are often in need of physical touch.

18. How physically strong is your oc? Is their agility or endurance better?

Payton is relatively fit, but not particularly strong or fast. They’re the kind to enthusiastically begin a brisk walk up a mountain trail, but be complaining of sore legs fifteen minutes in.

20. Does your oc have any favourite games to pass the time? What other hobbies do they have?

Payton sometimes plays chill, open-ended video games like Minecraft or the Sims. They also play a little electric guitar and watch a lot of old movies.

22. How easily does your oc fare in the sun? Do they tan or burn easily? Are they completely unaffected?

Payton already has slightly dark skin, but they tan a little more if they’re in the sun for a very long time.

24. Is your oc a romantic, or are they grossed out by the simple mention of anything romantic?

A hopeless romantic, but very shy about it. Will have a million ideas for how to impress Autumn, but will be too embarrassed or afraid of things going wrong to actually put them into action.

26. How does your oc sleep? Do they move around a lot? What position does your oc normally sleep in? What are their typical bedding arrangements like?

Payton is a deep sleeper unless there’s something on their mind, in which case they jolt awake several times with tense joints and grinding teeth. If alone, they lie on their stomach with one arm under the pillow, blanket pulled all the way up, but if they’re with Autumn, they like to spoon (either as big or little; as a couple, they switch it up a lot).

28. How organized is your oc? How important is organization to your oc?

Organised enough that they couldn’t be classed as messy, but disorganised enough that they will break into a momentary cold sweat if asked to locate something quickly.

30. How caring/empathetic is your oc? Are they the type to immediately adopt and protect others, or are they a true sadist?

Payton is often too empathetic. They wouldn’t really put themself in an “adopting” or “protecting” role, but goes out of their way to make sure the people around them feel heard and understood.

32. How judgemental is your oc? Do they keep an open mind about people, or are they the type to judge a book by its cover?

They try not to make any assumptions about people, but find it difficult sometimes when they meet so many customers in a day and don’t receive any information besides their appearances and their coffee orders.

34. Does your oc have a pet? If they could have another one or if they were to get one, what would it be? How well could they care for it?

They do not, but they would get a tank of tropical fish if they had more space and more income. They would take amazing care of them, and would probably even make an Instagram account for the tank.

36. What is your oc’s fight or flight response like? What sorts of things provoke it the most?

They would lean towards flight, and it would kick in if they were being threatened or verbally abused, or if the situation was just getting too much to bear in general.

38. What does your oc do to relax? Any specific activities? Why?

Payton enjoys baths after particularly stressful days, just because it’s private and they can pretend time doesn’t exist for a little while. They can also get their mind off of things by watching or creating something.

40. What languages does your oc know? Are there any they want to learn but haven’t had the chance to? How good are they at picking up new ones?

English and secondary school-level French. They have a slight grasp of Urdu because of their Pakistani grandmother who they were close with growing up, but they can understand it more than they can speak it.

42. Is your oc an optimist or a pessimist? Any particular reason why?

Payton is more a realist, because while they would love to be an optimist (and sometimes they are, if they can’t help themself), they’ve had too many disappointments in life to let themself get carried away.

44. How violent is your oc? Or are they more a pacifist? To what lengths will they go to start/avoid a conflict?

Pacifist. Unfortunately, they’ll often change their opinion or stance in order to diffuse a situation, buckling under pressure if they think things will escalate into a fight.

46. Does your oc lie a lot, or is the truth very important to them? What is their reaction to other people lying to them?

The truth is important to them, but they also realise the damage it can do if it’s shared at the wrong time. They really don’t like being lied to though, as they then overthink about how stupid they must have looked while they were believing the lie.

48. What are your oc’s nervous tics? Are they aware of them? Do they attempt to hide them?

Payton scratches or rubs their neck a lot when they’re anxious, which they’re sometimes aware of, but aren’t too self-conscious about.

50. How attentive is your oc? How perceptive are they? How easily do they get distracted?

They’re attentive to the people around them, and fairly perceptive of other people’s needs, until they feel overwhelmed or exhausted, and then they’ll get easily distracted by a stray train of thought.

52. In what ways does your oc cope with anger? How easily angered are they? Do they lash out?

Payton rarely lashes out, but will get emotional if their anger simmers for too long without being resolved. They’re more likely to grieve the end of something thanks to anger, than fight for it and risk failing.

54. How would you describe your oc’s voice to sound like? Do you have any voice claims for them?

As I said before, Payton is soft-spoken but with a slightly high-pitched voice when it’s raised. I don’t know about any voice claims.

56. What is your oc’s favourite colour? If you had to choose one colour to represent your oc, what would it be and why?

Their favourite colour is orange! I think orange is a good colour to represent them too because it’s bright but at the same time it’s a deep, intense colour.

58. How would you describe your oc’s appearance to someone who’s looking for them? What features would be most identifiable?

5″8, dark hair, long bangs (probably) covering one side of their face (unless they’re at work), eyebrow piercing.

60. How good is your oc at keeping track of time? Are they always late, always early, or always right on time?

Payton keeps fairly good time, since they really don’t like the idea of making anyone wait around for them.

62. How quick is your oc? Do they have faster or slower reflexes? What things are they quickest at?

Payton works quickly, and gets customers’ orders made in very good time, but if they’re asked to change tasks halfway through completing another, they get serious mental whiplash and slow down a lot.

64. Which of the seven deadly sins does your oc fall under most? What about the seven heavenly virtues?

Envy, and Charity. (Sounds very contradictory actually!)

66. What sort of advice would people go to your oc for? What sort of advice is your oc actually good at giving?

Even though they don’t outwardly look like a style guru, they’re the one that their friends go to if they want advice on an outfit, or on a tattoo or piercing they’re thinking of getting. They’re also good at giving advice on drama and relationships, since they’re able to put themself in other peoples’ shoes.

68. What sorts of things would cheer your oc up when they’re down? Is your oc sad often, or is it more rare?

Food. Just feed the sad Payton, they’ll be okay. They’re sad less often when they get together with Autumn and sort everything out with Donnacha.

70. What about your oc’s lifestyle would they change if they had the ability? Why?

All they would want to do is slow down time so they can keep working at the coffee shop and take all the time they need to decide about what career they want to follow afterwards.

72. What is your oc’s ideal environment like? Urban or natural? Fancy or rustic? What’s the weather like?

It would be an urban oasis type of place, like a little park in the city, with a fountain or a space for street performers to put on shows. Nothing fancy or stylish needed. I’m picturing late autumn evening, the sun just dipping behind the buildings and treetops.

74. How would your oc act when drunk? What about when really, really tired?

Payton doesn’t actually drink, but if they did, they would get really clingy and affectionate at first, but quickly dissolve into crying. And actually, tired (or hungry) Payton is more or less the same, but on a less dramatic scale.

76. What is/was your oc’s relationship with their family like? Was it happy, tense, or abusive? What living family does your oc currently have, if any?

Payton was raised by their aunt and uncle, who they had a decent but not overly close relationship with. They never felt understood in that household, but never unsafe either. Their living family members are their aunt and uncle, and their two cousins.

78. How socially skilled is your oc? Are they good at understanding social cues? How charismatic are they?

They’re extremely charming at first meeting

80. What is your oc’s handwriting like? How easy to read is it? Can they write/read cursive?

Payton has very tidy cursive handwriting that most people can read easily. They used to dot their I’s with little bubbles instead of dots when they were younger, and they sometimes do it by accident if they’re not paying attention.

82. What would be your oc’s ultimate dream vacation? Where would they go? Who would they take with them? What would they do?

As long as they could explore a new place and learn about a new culture, they would be set. Egypt, Vietnam, and Iceland are all on their bucket list. They’d love for Autumn to go with them, but they’re not opposed to traveling alone if it was in a country where they’d feel safe.

84. Is your oc more masculine, feminine, androgynous, or something else entirely?

It literally depends on the day.

86. What would someone assume about your oc based on their appearance? Would those assumptions be correct?

People might assume Payton is shy and probably a bit rude, since they tend to hide a lot of their face with their hair and keep their head down, but as soon as they start talking, people realise they’re actually really friendly and kind.

88. Does your oc hold grudges? For how long? Does your oc have any rivals?

No, Payton doesn’t see the use in holding grudges and just sees it as a waste of energy. When a friendship ends over a mistake or a betrayal, they grieve the relationship and then try to let it go.

90. Does your oc have any objects they could never give up? Why is it so important to them? Do they have any family heirlooms?

They have a shoebox of random mementos, including a friendship bracelet and a note from their first girlfriend, a necklace given to them by their grandmother, rocks from the beach and pressed flowers, their first phone (a purple flip-phone), some photo negatives; just some things they feel attached to, some for inexplicable reasons.

92. What trait does your oc appreciate or admire the most in others? Why?

They appreciate passion in others. It doesn’t have to be something big, like Autumn’s love for theatre, Lucy’s desire to unmask the face of reality itself, or Donnacha’s love of flying, because they also recognise Henry’s insatiable hunger for discovering the good in people, and how their boss Jake carefully manages his staff despite the fact that coffee shop manager was never his dream or ideal job.

94. Does your oc rely more on a logical or emotional mindset? What situations would this be the opposite?

A bit of both, in that they would consider other people’s emotions and try to find a logical way to satisfy everyone’s needs (or as many people’s needs as possible). They might lean more heavily on logic if Payton themself was the only person involved and they had nothing else to go on.

96. Describe your oc in three words. What three words would they use to describe themselves?

My words: comfortable, endearing, and unforgettable. Their own words: hard-working, approachable, and (a little) annoying.

98. Is your oc the type to have a lot of fairly good friends, have a small group of close friends, have one or two best friends, or have no friends at all? Who are they closest to?

In school, they had no close friends, aside from their (then) girlfriend, mainly because they never felt like they fit into any of the cliques that kids tend to form. But they were still someone that classmates would occasionally talk to, they would still be invited to major parties, and would always find someone to sit with if they were in need of company. Aside from Autumn, they would say that Lucy is their closest friend, but after living with Henry and Donnacha for almost two years too, they would be extremely devastated if they lost them.

100. Does your character ever swear? How often? How vulgar is their swearing?

Payton doesn’t swear, which is pretty fucking unusual for one of my OCs, huh? (See what I did?)

#ask game #ask meme #Payton #OC Payton #thank you Milo!#OC stuff

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boogiewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Rosie & the Road Less Traveled

Characters: Declan Harp x Rosie Anderson (OFC)

Summary: Declan Harp 1970s Hippy/Roadtrip AU Rosie has made a bold decision and decided to leave her monotonous life. She sets out to create her own with a group of misfits traveling across America, post-Vietnam during the 1970s. She breaks out of her shy and insecure, sheltered shelf to have an adventure where she learns the realities of life outside her former cookie-cutter existence. She experiences, a year of sex, drugs, and rock and roll as the group of ex-soldiers and free spirits change her worldview and show her another way. She meets the charming but damaged Declan who takes her under his wing. Will a budding romance for this blossoming Rose prove to be her gift from the universe for making the hard decision to be her own woman?

Warnings/Tags: Talk of emotional abuse by family.

Click on my screen name then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! It makes me want to write more of what you want if you let me know!

Rosie awoke in the same pink and frill filled bedroom she had every day of her life so far. She could smell the same coffee she wasn’t allowed to have. The scent filled up their Better Homes and Gardens modeled modest family home settled in a suburb full of pastel houses with the same pastel cars in their driveway. It was polished and performative, just like Rosie’s mother who was standing in her doorway looking like a copy of June Cleaver.

“You’ll be late for John to pick you up! Don’t keep a man waiting! A wife must be preemptive and pretty dear.” She exits as quickly as she’d entered. Rosie is left looking to her favorite childhood toy and only friend, Booger Bear, with a sigh before starting her day. Not much had changed in Rose Anderson’s life since she was a child. She was raised by older parents, very strict and traditional. Which would explain why they’d agreed to her engagement so fervently. She was 24 and unmarried and being a spinster was not an option according to them. So she was having yet another huge life decision made for her by someone else. She couldn’t remember the last time she had held her own opinion or made up her own mind. She had fear instilled within her from a young age that she was less than and this was used to keep her under control. Being different as she was with her ghostly white skin and pale blonde hair, her albinism stood out among her peers. She wore glasses and a constantly apologetic look on her face. Her childlike treatment was clear on her face as her features were baby round. A button nose and large light blue eyes with cheeks that always had a flush to them showed her softness unwillingly. She truly did look like a baby animal, naive, and easy prey.

This was a common theme among the treatment she’d had from men so far in her life. She didn’t expect any different. Her mother had cried tears of relief when George had asked for her hand. She would finally be able to tell her bridge club that her daughter had at least something normal going on about her. The cruel and belittling words she’d heard her whole life only made sense to continue hearing from this new person that would now be in charge of her she was told. If nothing had changed in her life up to this point, why would it ever?

The fact that George never showed didn’t surprise her. So when she went into town to run wedding errands on her own she wasn’t surprised. Wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last. He usually disappears at night and not in the morning so that was unusual but she went through her day with the same polite smile she always did. A smile that said sorry for existing. She called her home from the library, offering to see if her mother needed anything for supper. She hadn’t but she had heard from George’s mother, and she hadn’t seen him either. So it was now Rosie’s job to find him, as they’d be married soon.

She sat defeated on a bench to rest as the sun started to set. She’d asked at the stores on the square and no one had seen him. Luckily for her, she’d sat down in front of the Beauty Parlour and it being a small town, everyone knows everyone, one of the ladies there knew who sweet little odd Rosie was and took pity on her.

“I know it’s not my place to say so baby but that man of yours is no count. You know that right?”

“I’m sorry ma'am?”

“You were in town all day today alone, doin' your dress and all that right? For the wedding?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And he’s been across county lines getting drunk as a skunk.” She shakes her head. “Again.”

“Oh.” Rosie sighs and looks to the ground. “Do you know where he is?” She asks reluctantly.

“No where no sweet thing like you needs to be goin'.”

“I need to get him home. His mother’s worried.”

“She should be. Ain't your mama worried about you out here alone?”

“She said I have to do real women’s work and take care of George as best I can. He’s mine now and I better start acting like it and go… find him.”

The kind woman sighs and feels bad for the poor thing. But it wasn’t an uncommon story. “He’s out at the bar past the county line. Neon sign, bikes out front, can’t miss it. It’s on the right.” She says with a groan.

“Up 25E?” She asks already getting to her feet.

“Yes, baby now be careful. I’m only telling you this because someone’s gotta help you out, honey. Maybe it’s time you helped yourself huh?”

“I’m doing what any good wife and daughter would do ma'am.”

“Life’s not about being good for other people. You have to think about what’s good for you. What do you want? Do you want to marry George?”

“Ma'am what a silly question.”

“That’s not the enthusiastic YES I should be hearing from a bride to be is it?”

Rosie doesn’t know how to reply and just looks worried for a moment with her wide eyes.

“Go before it gets darker baby. Be careful. Take care of yourself.” She says as Rosie scurries across the square to the car.

She did love getting to drive around. Something she’d not been allowed to do until recently. So a trip out of town on a lovely evening was something that got her very excited.

She had held onto that moment of happiness as she drove out of town. A perfect evening with a chill after the sun went down. She could hear frogs and crickets as she left the roads full of cookie-cutter homes and drove into a more forested area.

She had a comfortable smile on her face until the trees cleared for a patch and showed a roadhouse. This had to be the place. She pulled in with a mix match of very nice and very beat down cars. Some buses and small caravans lined along the perimeter. She could hear music coming from inside the metal and wood walls. There were men three times her size all around. They were an odd mix of trendy sleazy men with feathered hair and grizzly biker men and they were all chain-smoking. Everyone looked as confused as she did as she entered the building. If she was polite and direct there was no reason these gentlemen had to give her any trouble. She’d heard about these sorts from her mother. Bikers, greasers, all sinners, and a dirty lot to associate with.

But Rosie had always seen glimpses of people in the magazines. The intense men on their bikes with a scantily clad woman who looked both elated and aroused clutched to his back as they rode through the great American Route 66. They looked like they were having fun, she thought. She thought they looked free and those were things she longed to know how they felt. But there was no room for these things in her life. So although she should be afraid to be around these people, she was actually quite excited. She fantasized with already blushed shy cheeks about striking up a conversation with one of them and finding out what they were really like.

“You lost sweetheart?” The man in glasses with his arms crossed at the door asks her.

“I’m here to fetch my husband- my fiancé.” She corrects herself.

“You with a man that comes to a place like this?”

“His name is George. He is a fan of a strong drink and a cigar. And apparently, his frequenting of this place is something everyone in the town knew about but me.” she admits freely as she wasn’t one to have any reason to hide bits of herself. Everyone could be a friend in her eyes. She entered every interaction with a genuine curiosity it was honestly a bit hard to be rude to her.

“Ah.” He nods and understands. “Go on in, sweetheart” he holds open the door for her and watches her stand and take it all in for a moment. He chuckles and then sighs, “Poor little thing.” he mutters.

Through an old western saloon style inner door she enters with a delighted smile. “How charming!” She says to herself. She walked into a rather large room full of gambling tables. A bar on one end and a stage on the other. Panning over to meet the stage last, she’s hit with a thump of bass in her chest by way of her feet. It rumbled into the floor as she tentatively approached. She’d never seen live music before. She supposed choir and church and talent shows didn’t really count. There were electric guitars and men with no shirts and girls without bras and she was enthralled. She had heard a few rock songs by way of sneaking into a poor reception radio station when she was left alone in the car. She loved it. But it was something only classless people were apart of. Or so she was told. But these people looked the same as those in the magazines. A very tall and dark man played the instrument causing her to experience a very pleasant vibration through her body. He was shirtless and sweating and had a large tattoo on his arm. A chain from his worn dark jeans that bounced with every pluck of his long fingers. Next to him a smaller man, pale and singing with delightfully large blonde curly hair. He sang beautifully she thought. He wore a shirt unbuttoned and tucked into pants so tight she could see a bulge that ripped her from her fantasy of being as cool and free as they were. She turns around quickly and moves towards the bar.

She finds George in his work clothes, the navy not being blotched by black oils and spills told her he also hadn’t been to work. She wears her disappointment in her face clearly for a moment before trying to put on that mask her mother taught her to wear. Never show him that you’re upset. Anger is unseemly on a lady. But this did make her angry. Her red face made it obvious she was holding in red hot emotion. Her smile was hollow and her eyes gave her away.

“Hello, George. I believe it’s time we got home.” She says with a hand to his shoulder.

“How’d you find me here?” He asks with a dramatic turn on his bar stool, and he was in true skunk form.

“A person in town suggested it. Your mother is worried about you. Can we please go home?”

“You can. I’m staying here.”

“Please George I have to get you home. Both our parents expect me to take care of you and that’s what I’m doing.”

“What if I don’t want you to take care of me? Huh? What if I don’t want anything to do with you?”

Her throat felt tight. She was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a way since she was bullied when she was young. The eyes she could feel on her from a growing audience he was causing made her feel all tingly and nervous. He looked at her with disgust and the shame she usually felt was quickly turning into anger in this new over-stimulating environment.

“Do you think I want to be here?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think I wanted to run all the errands myself today for my own wedding? And make excuses for your absence all day and have people look at me with pity. Because they knew you were here. Again from the looks of you.”

“Well, I’m only here because of YOU.” He spits back.

“Me?” She squeaks with growing confidence that makes her take a deep breath and steady herself. “I have been nothing but an ideal fiancé from the beginning of this. YOU asked for this. Not me.”

“I didn’t ask for it! You did!”

They both looked at each other confused. “I was told you asked for my hand.”

“Hell no my parents told me I had to say yes to your parents offer or they’d cut me off and send me to the army.”

They both blink at each other for a moment. “This is…” she takes a shaker breath. “I’m in an arranged marriage.” She whispers and feels a betrayal deep in her chest. She’d been lied to. Her parents lied, her fiancé lied, the whole town and only one person has the decency to tell her where George was. It hurt like a knife might she thought as her hands held fast to her stomach.

“Are you like...retarded too? Ugh geez. Of course, it is! Why would I want to be with a freak like you?”

It’s as if he’d culminated every fear she’d ever had into a single sentence. All her thoughts of not fitting in, of something being wrong with her. She’d been right all along. “Well, I don’t want to be with a mean drunk like you!” She says back with a face that showed her first real emotion in years.

“I am not a drunk.”

“Yes you are! The whole town gossips about it behind your back. Your parents threaten to send you off if you don’t start acting like an adult. You try to take advantage of ME when I’ve never been anything but nice to you! You are MEAN and you are a DRUNK!”

He moves fast and grabs hold of her arms tightly. Enough to make her cry out and wince. “You listen here you little freak of nature. If you’re gonna be with me you’re gonna respect me as a good wife would.”

“Is there a problem here?” The same tall man from the stage asks, towering over George.

“Buzz off bud. This is between me and my girl.”

“It’s not when you talk to her like that, loud enough for whole damn bar to hear and then put your hands on her.

“Why don’t you go and fuck your cousin, you dirty ass hippies.”

The man meets eyes with Rosie and he immediately knew he had to help her. She looked defeated, but a shine of hope that someone, anyone would ever help her out. He knew one of their kind when he saw that look. Just like the group of outcasts he’d gathered over the years since returning home.

“You’re a…” he glances to Rosie who beams innocence in such a way a man like him is forced to protect it. “Jerk.” He decides instead of saying words that might make the victim feel embarrassed.

“He’s an… asshole.” She spits out and feels a wave of rush over her as she curses.

George flinches to hit her and that was enough for the tall stranger. “Alright, you’re killing the vibe, man.” He wraps his neck in a headlock and drags him out of the bar with a shocked Rosie froze for a moment.

“‘Ello there, love.” The singer from before came in. With gentle hands to her shoulders. “You alright? Hurt?”

“N-no.” She stutters.

“Ya sure you’ve gone all rosy in the face.” He fans her with his hand.

“I always am.” She excuses quickly. “Sorry..I-“

“No apologies, let’s get you into the fresh air eh? Don’t worry I’m with the big guy what dragged off that unpleasant twat you were dealing with.”

“Okay.” She says breathily and a little dazed. “Thank you.”

——-

“Well, he’s gone.” The tall one says proudly, clapping his hands.

Rosie stands and looks at the spot where her car had sat. Now empty. “Did he take that yellow car?” She points to the space.

“Yeah, he headed right for it, had the keys.”

She nods and sighs. “I’m afraid that was my car he took.” She looks down the ground to figure out her next move from here, now stranded.

“Oh shit. Oh no, I’m sorry.” The tall man says putting his hands to his mouth. “Ah. Well fuck, honey I really screwed you there didn’t I “

She blinks with her large pale blue eyes at him with tears withheld. A cherub round face that struck a deep nerve as she tried to hide her upset. “You didn’t mean it. You were trying to help.” She says with a slow nod and inhales.

“Bad luck innit.” The other rubs her back comfortingly and she didn’t mind it. He seemed like such a nice man. They both were.

“Can you get a ride home? Call your parents or… something? Or did he just... steal your car?” He towers over her but she doesn’t feel afraid. He rubs his head in thought as he bit his lip.

“I’ll have to call my mother. He’ll go home to his mother I presume.” She nods. “I can retrieve my car tomorrow. Unless he crashes it.” She sighs. “He was terribly drunk.” Her shoulders sink in disappointment.

“Look, we’ll get ya home...what’s your name love?”

“Rose.”

“Oh, that’s a beautiful name innit? For a beautiful girl.” He holds no ill will as he says it and the compliment hits her hard in her emotionally unstable state. Tears well up for someone, a man, a nice man to be so kind to her to say such a nice thing. “Oh no, don’t cry. We'll get you a cab home. It’s no trouble love. Don’t worry ya pretty little head about it eh?”

“You’re so nice.” The tears fall fat over her flushed cheeks.

“Now there’s a good girl.” He brings her in for a hug. “Go call her a car, mate.” He nods away the other fellow.

“I’m so sorry. I’m not usually like this. I’ve had such a bad day.”

“Now let’s sit down here and you can tell Danny all about it now little Rosie.” He shoos some men off a nearby bench to sit her down.

“That your name?” She sniffles

“It is. I’m Danny and that big man was Declan. You’ll be safe with us. Don’t worry. We are protectors of the oppressed.” He chuckles as he puts an arm on her shoulder as she hides her face from the eyes watching.

“Oppressed?”

“Yeah. You know, women… people that are... various beautiful shades of brown, black yellow..." he spoke dramatically with an outstretched hand that captivated her " … homosexuals. You know how it goes, the bad ones yeah? The rebels, the outcasts, lost children who come across our path.”

“You’re making us sound like a cult man. Don’t scare her.” Declan laughs and stands guard at her other side. “Taxi’ll be here within the hour.” He gives her a warm smile that crinkles around his eyes. Half of it coverd in a beard that was pointed and a bit fuzzy. His hair was like a dark lions mane around his face and shoulders.

Rosie contemplated as she looked up at him and wondered if she’d ever seen a man so tall before.

“He only looks scary,” Danny assures her. “Declan this is Rosie.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He gives a gentle nod down at her.

“Almost exactly what I told her.” Danny beams.

“Hey Rosie, I’m Declan. Nice to meet you.” He spoke softly and gently as if she might startle if he spoke too loudly at her. “We’re in a band. We travel around. Play music and just...living life y’know. Being free with the life we’ve got.” He spoke proudly as he explained. “We’ve heard a lot of stories. So you aren’t going to tell us anything we’ll judge you for.” He laughs.

“We’ve all done far worse than whatever spot you’ve got yourself in angel.” Danny joins in the laugh.

“I’m sorry to cry I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed.” She wipes her cheeks. “As I was telling Danny I’ve had a very bad day.”

“Tells us about it then love. Let the evil out.” He motions with his hands as if he were vomiting and it makes her have a soft little giggle. “There she is.” He pushes her chin up gently. “Go on then…”

Her blubbering story hurt them both as she told of isolation and now betrayal and forced marriage to a terrible man. They’d seen it and heard it before, many in their group had a similar past.

“You deserve so much better Rosie love,” Danny says with a broadly shaking head. “You are clearly such a bright and lovely girl with a pure heart and you deserve the same given back to you.”

“I do!” She whines.

“You can change it all. You’ve got the power. They tell us we don’t. That we can’t. But it’s because they’re afraid of us. Afraid that if we knew what power we had as a collective, as they’ve made us all feel so isolated you see? You can have whatever sort of life you want Rosie. You just have to take it.” Dany speaks intently to her with unwavering eye contact.

“Take it?” she sniffles.

“Make the hard choices. You want things to stay like this forever or you want to take a chance and be your own person?” Declan asks with high brows. He had the tougher approach and Danny handled the whimsy of things, it suited their personalities.

“Like...refuse to marry him?”

“Not just that. You can refuse to stay with your parents.”

Rosie laughs as if he’s joking.

“I’m serious. You could go and live anywhere you wanted. Did you even know that?”

“No. I thought….”

“You can make your own choices Rosie,” Declan says as he sees the cab arrive. “You could see the world. Meet anyone. Do anything. ”

“That… sounds too good to be true.” she looks down at the ground as they walk her towards the car.

“It’s what we did,” Declan turns to face her. “We didn’t like our lives so we just...changed them. I wanted music and freedom and to be around people who understood me.”

“We eventually found each other. And our little family has grown ever since.” Danny holds his home like an adoring mum seeing away their daughter on the bus.

“Family?”

“We’re just a bunch of misfits that are trying to find our place in this crazy world.” Danny shrugs. “Some of us play music and some just follow us in the summertime to escape their lives. Some just like life on the road. We’ve got all sorts. Certainly had a few girls with stories like yours.”

“Really?” she rubs her cheeks.

“We aren’t saying you have to join us. We’re just saying you can make your own choices... have whatever sort of life you want. That’s all. You seemed like you could use the help.”

“I could.” she lets out a heavy, thoughtful sigh. “Thank you. Both. You were very helpful. I can’t really repay you.”

“Start making YOURSELF happy Rosie. That’ll be payment enough. You deserve it, pet.” Danny waves her goodbye.

“Don’t let the man get you down little Rosie.” Declan Nods her way as she gets in the cab to head home.

—————

The cab drive home was the most peace she was going to know for the next 24 hours. It started with the cops being at her house when she got there. George had been arrested after being taken to the hospital for injuries from wrecking her car. He was being held and charged and poor Rosie thought she might pass out.

George’s mother paced and shouted in their house late into the night. Wailing about her “poor” son. What did she do to him to make him behave in such a way? Denial was not just a river she'd read about in the encyclopedias she'd gotten for Christmas.

Her own mother joined in, what did she do? How was she going to fix this? Why didn’t she have the money to bail him out? She raised her better than this.

Rosie sat and took it. But each biting remark only made that funny feeling in her stomach grow as each verbally slapped her over and over.

“Did you ever consider you’re yelling at the wrong person?” She finally says back quietly.

“For god's sake girl don’t mumble and slouch! It’s ugly!”

She had been told she was pretty tonight and told she could be and do whatever she wanted. Things she’d never heard before. There were people out there that wouldn’t treat her like this. This isn’t what she wanted. She wouldn’t survive a life like this, it would hollow her out into a shell of who she really was.

“I said, Did you ever consider you’re yelling at the wrong person?” Her brow was now creased and a rare sight it was. “Did you ever consider your son is a drunk? A hateful loser who has been breastfed too long by his mother?!” She sass’s with balled fists in the meanest and most insulting thing she’d ever said came out of her mouth confidently. “And you! I don’t have any money because you won’t let me work! You won’t let me leave! Or even LIVE!” She throws her arms up in the air. “You’re being bullies when I’m the ONLY one that tried to DO something and HELP him. And this is what I get? No. No more. I don’t have to put up with this...this… BOLOGNA!” She yells and stomps to her room, slamming the door and leaving a room of shocked faces behind. Her father in the kitchen almost choked on the beer he was trying to secretly down to deal with the situation. It was beer and not even liquor what was he becoming?

Rosie falls to her bed and cries and hits the pillows as her door is quickly bombarded with screeches on the other side. Demands of her to come out and apologize and she just kept shouting “NO!” Over and over to their requests. She took all of her suitcases and laid them on the bed, the voices on the other side growing tired and falling quieter and they tried to listen to what she was doing. She threw her life into those cases. All her favorite things, things she might need, she stuffed them full and sat on them to get them to shut. She angrily pens a letter. Telling them she was tired of being oppressed and lied to and she was going to make herself happy and never see them again. She still signed it with a heart.

She gets out of her bedroom window and makes her way to the car with the dented fender and busted windows the cops had returned to them. She throws in her bags and whispers a prayer it will start. Someone was looking out for her. She could see the sources of the yelling running out of the house behind her as she headed out of the subdivision. She’d never felt more alive.

She practically drifted into the gravel parking lot at the roadhouse and held tears of joy from her escape and the fact that the buses and vans were still in sight. The bus was headed out of the parking lot. She leaves the car with the keys in the ignition and straps her bags and suitcases up and runs as fast as her feet will carry her toward the van left in the line.

“WAIT!” She shouts and pants. “PLEASE WAIT!!” She lets out a scream she didn’t know she had in her. Her lungs burned and her blood pumped faster than it ever had as the van door rolled open. “I’m coming with you!”

“Is that?” Declan snorts out an amused sound

“Well fuck me it’s that little girl again.” Danny muses as he looks out the door. “Slow down mate, we got a castaway.”

“Being. Chased. Keep going.”

“Chased?” Danny laughs. “By who?” The thought of someone being in pursuit of this tiny white field mouse amused him to no end.

“I RAN AWAY!” she laughs as she throws her bags to the filled van and is ran full force as the van gets to the highway and she’s yanked inside. The door slams shut behind her and she’s left wheezing and trying to fix her dress and hair.

“Come now little bird, have a seat.” Danny pulls her down on the bean bag he’s sat on.

“I. Ran.” She pants out and Danny and Declan laugh but the other eyes in the van are looking at her confused.

“From the cops?” Someone asks concerned

“No.” She clears her throat and takes a deep breath as she calms down. “From my house.”

“Was it as bad as you thought it was gonna be?” Danny pushes back her hair.

“Worse.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “I can... I can come with you guys right?” She says with puppy eyes.

“Welcome to our merry little crew Rosie bug.” Danny beams.

“I ran away too.” Another girl with long beautiful wavy hair says from her spot in the open-backed van, now crowded full. “Husband? Parents?”

“Both.” Rosie nods and they share a sympathetic nod of understanding.

“I’m glad you came Rosie.” the girl's eyes showed strong empathy and it made Rosie certain she'd made the right decision.

“I am too.” She finally catches her breath. “So…” she primps for a moment to gather herself. “Where are we off to first?”

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer @phillipkopusimagines-and-stuff @mjolnir96 @xmother-mortemx @this-isnt-madness @thors-hair-extensions @divadinag @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s

#Declan Harp #declan harp fanfic #declan harp fic #frontier au #frontier #jason momoa frontier #jason momoa #declan harp au #declan harp x ofc

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elareine · 5 years ago

Note

May I pls pls ask for a Jaydick soulmate AU? I really liked the red string thingy! Maybe with "right to the good parts" prompt 6 and cuddling prompt 5 and/or 6?? (:

Thanks for the prompts! I love red strings of fate, so this was fun.

Cassandra Cain had many ways to see. The red strings were just one small part of her abilities, but one that she treasured. Looking at her finger, knowing that she would be able to find Steph wherever she was—it gave a feeling of security, of belonging, that she’d seldom experienced before.

Her family… that was another matter.

Her heart ached for them. She wanted to tell Jason that even if he had lost his best friend, lost his family, there was someone out there just for him. Everything in her was tempted to tell Tim that his soulmate was closeby to ease his loneliness and fear of rejection. Damian—he needed to know that he was worthy of love. Babs was so strong, the strongest person Cass knew, but she deserved to have the same comfort Cass did. And Bruce.

Oh, Bruce.

Dick, however… he was more challenging to figure out. For as long as Cass had watched him, his string had led into the distance, slackening and tightening in turn. It was uniquely alive. Occasionally, there would just be a movement, a tug, as if Dick was willing his string to go toward the person he was with.

It never worked. It took until a quiet day in the cave for Cass to understand why.

“So, yeah,” Jason was saying. “I decided to start at Gotham U. Got accepted into English Lit and Criminology.”

Dick beamed and moved in for a hug. “Little Wing, I’m so happy for you.”

“Uh, thanks.” There was a faint blush on Jason’s cheeks, and Cass knew why.

Normally, Dick would’ve let go by now. He was still holding on to Jason, looking a little lost, as if this was everything and he couldn’t figure out why it felt so good.

Cass held her breath. Jason didn’t pull him closer, exactly, but he wasn’t pushing him away, either. She could read the tension in his every line. However, he didn’t relax when Dick finally extracted himself—if anything, he was tenser when they weren’t touching.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw their strings move as if they were contracting, pulling in… or maybe shortening?

This would need watching. She didn’t want her brothers to get hurt, even if there was very little she could do to protect them.

The next opportunity to watch the two of them came months later. They—Red Hood, Nightwing, Red Robin, and she—were working together with the usual amount of bickering when they had to wait for a postponed shipment in an abandoned warehouse on the top of a mountain without electricity.

She and Tim had given into the inevitable snuggling for warmth and comfort without a fuss. They didn’t need it, but why not take what was on offer when it made for a better night? Dick pressed up to the Cass’ other side immediately. Jason, though, kept himself apart.

One day, she swore to herself, they would convince him that he was always welcome. Brother needed to know.

She had been sleeping for hours when the sound of something heavy dragging along the floor woke her up. Dick shifted against her, making room to accommodate Jason.

“Just for warmth,” she heard Jason whisper. It made Cass want to hit him on the back of the head—stupid men with their stupid inability to show feelings—but then Jason would move away, and Dick would look sad. So she pretended to be asleep and left them to it.

Something must have happened that night. The next morning, Cass could see their red string had shortened; so much so, in fact, that she could follow it from one end to the other, see where it bound them together.

If she were Steph or Tim, she might have interfered at that point. It would be useless, though, Cass knew. Her brothers were the type that needed to figure things out themselves, at their own pace. A push and they might balk.

In the end, her patience paid off during one sunny day in September. Steph and Tim had called it “road trip time” and sounded so excited about it, no one (well, except Damian) had had the heart to object. Dick had even found a “genuine sixties van, c’mon, Jay redid the engines, it’ll be fun!” for them.

Inevitably, a battle for the front seats ensued. Cass didn’t get why, but she participated enthusiastically and won the place of honor for her and Steph. After a few hours, though, they elected to give it up for Tim (the designated relief driver when Dick became tired) and Dami. That way, Damian could hiss his backseat driving comments in a way that the rest didn’t have to hear it.

Dick generously gave up the middle row so they could cuddle up with Babs and joined Jason in the back row. Now that Tim was driving, the music switched to something with a lot of guitars and soft voices, and the atmosphere calmed down considerably. Cass was content to drowse with her head on Steph’s shoulder until she noticed something moving.

A loop of red thread, shrinking in on itself. Cass watched it out until it had left her field of vision, then gave it a few more minutes.

Carefully, oh-so-carefully, she turned her head.

Jason and Dick—they were asleep. But not just sleeping, no; Dick was resting with his head in Jason’s lap, Jason’s fingers in his hair, their other hand linked. It was the most peaceful Cass had ever seen them. And there was the red string, almost invisible now because they were so close.

With a content sigh, Cass turned back. Two fewer people to worry about.

Tim’s eyes caught hers in the rearview mirror, and they shared a smile.

(I’m taking prompts for Easter!)

#elareine writes #jaydick #cassandra cain #stephcass #batfamily #watch me ominously refer to Bruce’s soulmate in every one of these AUs

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clumsyclifford · 5 years ago

Note

you did so good with favorite place, how about trouble is for malum? ik that's not on the prompt list but all that I know is I just can't say no to you, funny how things never change...

i literally read this ask and then hit myself in the face several times before sitting in silent awe because this prompt. this prompt. your MIND. holy fuck. im going to make a prompt list of all time low lyrics to write fics to but just know (THIS IS A PSA!) that at any time i will be accepting prompts in the form of atl songs/lyrics god you have APPEALED TO MY WEAKNESS MEGHNA HNFKVLMFVJ;DVM

“Come to my room?” Calum offers, and it’s not a trap so much as an invitation to something Michael should refuse, but Michael takes one look at Calum and he’s already gone.

“Okay,” he says.

Luke and Ashton shrug to each other and then bid their adieus, with the promise that they’ll be back before four a.m., smashed, no doubt. Michael follows after Calum as they take the stairs to the second floor, where his and Calum’s hotel rooms are side-by-side. It’s so unbelievably rare that they get to have their own rooms, and Michael doesn’t know why he’s not taking full advantage of the solitude.

(Okay, he knows. He fucking knows.)

Calum’s room looks exactly like Michael’s, but reversed. Michael takes a seat on the bed, even though he knows that’s basically implicating himself. But Calum grins at him, not exactly victorious but too knowing for Michael’s liking, and sits next to him.

“Your room’s backwards,” Michael observes, terrified that the room will fall silent and Michael will look over and make the mistake he keeps making.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Literally,” Michael says. “My room looks like this, but, like, everything on the opposite side.”

“Fascinating,” Calum says. “We should look into the furnishing of hotels.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Calum says. “So are you, though.”

“I’ve done nothing but be delightful since I got here.”

“I mean in general.”

“I’m lovely!”

“You shouted at me for playing your electric before you got to soundcheck two nights ago.”

“Well, you shouldn’t touch my stuff. You’re not lead guitarist, are you?”

Calum scoffs, although he sounds amused. “I almost was.”

And isn’t that a throwback. “Fuck,” Michael says. “You were.” It’s funny; in all the times he’s brought up in interviews and 5SOS tour videos that he was almost the drummer of the band, he’d failed to remember that as a result, Calum had almost been the lead guitarist.

“Good times,” Calum says thoughtfully. “The pre-Ashton era.”

Michael laughs. “Don’t shit-talk Ash while he’s not here to defend himself.”

“The pre-Michael-on-lead-guitar era,” Calum rectifies. He nudges at Michael’s ankle with his own foot, and Michael’s heart rate spikes. “You’d have probably been a good drummer, you know.”

Michael feels hot, and hopes his face doesn’t reflect it, although that’s a pipe dream. “What do you mean?”

“Dunno,” Calum says, shrugging. “You just learn fast. And anyway, drummers are hot.”

“Are you calling Ashton hot?”

“I’m calling you hot,” Calum says, point-blank.

Michael’s heart stops. “Cal,” he says.

Calum turns his head, and against his own better judgement Michael does too. They’re practically nose to nose; another couple centimetres and they’ll be kissing. Michael tries to suppress that thought, but it surfaces unbidden and won’t go away.

“Yes?” Calum says calmly.

Michael tries to say stop it, or we shouldn’t, or we already tried this and it doesn’t work, but nothing will come out.

He knows Calum thinks he’s hot. Calum knows Michael thinks Calum is hot. But they did try it, and they keep trying it, and Michael keeps hurting when he realizes it’s never going to be more than this — a kiss here and there, a quickie before a show.

The worst part is that it feels wrong without it. He and Calum have been blurring the lines since they knew how to draw them. It shouldn’t feel normal, to kiss Calum, but it would feel worse now not to. And Michael tries to kid himself that he’s trying to get rid of that habit, but he’s not. He won’t. It’s part of him. Calum is a part of him, and Michael is cursed to never say no.

Calum keeps waiting, unmoving, probably waiting for Michael to say something or do something — Calum pushes him to the edge but never over it.

“Cal,” Michael says again, trying to make it sound commanding, defensive, but it comes out more like a plea, desperate and needy. Calum bridges the centimetres and puts his lips on Michael’s, slowly, like he’s giving Michael a chance to move away, which is a fucking joke. Michael wouldn’t move away if his life depended on it.

As soon as they kiss, Michael feels like his heart has burst, or maybe his entire chest. He leans back as Calum leans over him, gentle at first. Calum enjoys pretending that he’s willing to give up control of the kiss, but Michael knows Calum too well, and he doesn’t want to be in control of the kiss, anyway; he just wants to be part of it, and keep doing it, and not break it. Ever. But just to call Calum’s bluff he traces his tongue against Calum’s lower lip, and Calum immediately retaliates, pushing his tongue between Michael’s teeth and skimming the roof of his mouth. Michael’s grip on Calum tightens. He wishes he didn’t enjoy kissing Calum this much. It would make it much easier to give it up.

It feels impossible, monumental to try and end this, but Michael does his level best; he puts a hand against Calum’s chest and pushes, and though he doesn’t push hard, Calum gets the message and pulls away.

“Okay?” Calum asks. Michael almost melts at that, because for all that he acts like a predator chasing prey, Calum would rather die than go any further than Michael is willing.

“No,” Michael says. “I mean, yes — but no. Calum. Do you — do you see the problem here?”

Calum blinks. “No.”

“This is unsustainable,” Michael says. “You can’t — we can’t just — just be friends who make out.”

Calum frowns. “Why not?”

“It’s not fair.”

“Fair to whom?”

“To me,” Michael says flatly. His heart is starting to ache again, and he doesn’t want to be cross with Calum, because he’d been just as enthusiastic a participant of the making out as Calum had been, but still.

“I don’t understand,” Calum says carefully.

Michael sighs. “I don’t want to be your fuckbuddy, Cal. You know I like you, and this is fun, and all, but it’s not — I can’t move on if you’re always…” Kissing me. Looking at me. Here.

“Oh,” Calum says. “You like me?”

“Is this your idea of a joke?”

“No.” Calum looks puzzled. “I like you too, you know.”

“I’m glad my best friend of seven years likes me.”

“Romantically,” Calum clarifies. “Like, I’m in love with you.”

If Michael weren’t sitting down, he’d have fallen.

“What?”

“Is that how you like me?”

Michael blanches. “Of course I’m in love with you. Wait, what the fuck? You’re in love with me? Then what the fuck are we doing?”

“I thought you were humoring me,” Calum says.

“I thought you were humoring me,” Michael returns. He feels shaky, and the next second steady. “Since when are you in love with me?”

“Uh,” Calum says, “since I fucking kissed you for the first time? When we were sixteen? Are you joking?”

Michael laughs out loud, and leans forward to rest his head against Calum’s shoulder. “Holy shit,” he says. “This whole time I thought you were just being nice.”

“You’re fucking stupid,” Calum says. “I did repeatedly call you hot, right? I’ve been flirting with you since we started the band, right? I’m not just imagining that? Hey, since fucking when are you in love with me?”

“Since you kissed me when we were sixteen,” Michael says, unable to contain the giggles. “I hate you. I hate us. Will you marry me? No. Wait. Will you be my boyfriend? Best friend with benefits? I don’t even know what we are anymore.”

“Yes,” Calum says. “To all of those questions, but I’m not marrying you unless you give me a proper proposal, what the fuck. I’m a gentleman.”

“Noted,” Michael says, giddy. He picks his head up and says, “I’m going to kiss you now. But like, because I’m in love with you.”

“I’ll allow it,” Calum says. And then he kisses Michael, and Michael has no trouble letting him, because Michael could never say no to Calum, and now he never has to.

#HELLO THIS PROMPT SHOT ME IN THE FACE AND THEN WATERBOARDED ME WHAT THE FUCK MEGHNA #LIKE I AM SO. UNBELIEVABLY SHAKEN.#michael clifford #calum hood #malum #malum fic #5sos fic #fic #my fic #ajg;kldfjkafdjb;lfkdlfdjdkljdsflkjdfdaj i nlvoe this song i can never listen to it now withotu thinking of malum AS I DESERVE #im serious about the atl lyric prompts though that is lowkey a good idea #and in the meantime SEND ME MORE ATL LYRIC PROMPTS #GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME RN #reveriesofawriter #ask #answered #5sos

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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 5 years ago

Text

School sucks, but you don’t (Slaxl Highschool AU)

A/N: Since I made my Slaxl highschool au moodboard ( photo above), I wanted to write a little highschool au for them, and it’s finally here ! It will be divided into 2 parts. Also a big thanks to @duffshairdye who edited this for me (ya know, ‘cause English is not my first language)

Slash just wanted to have his mental breakdown.

He just wanted to cry, let it all out and then buy some alcohol with his fake ID. He certainly didn’t expect to find another person in the bathroom. He chose this one specifically because it was broken and nobody would come here.

Well... He was wrong!

“What the hell are you doing here?” A boy asked, and Slash recognized him as Axl Rose, the school’s resident troublemaker and sex dream. Now, Slash knew more about his reputation than about Axl himself, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have quite a crush on him.

“I was about to cry my eyes out but apparently you’re already doing it.” He said, trying to hide his embarrassment. He never thought that a guy as tough as the redhead would break down in a shitty high school bathroom.

“W-what happened to you?” Axl asked, genuinely concerned. Wait, Axl was concerned about him?

“My teacher is an asshole and I don’t have anyone to go to prom with. Well, let’s say that nobody wants to go to prom with me.” The curly-haired boy replied, a bit sad. “So what happened to you?

“I think I’m going to fail this year. And… well, my stepfather won’t be happy about it!” he mumbled, like he was scared to be laughed at or insulted.

Slash immediately felt a wave of guilt crashing over him. Fuck, his problems seemed so small compared to the older boy’s.

“Oh shit, man! I’m so sorry, I must seem like a whiny bitch for complaining about such a small thing.”

“It’s okay, dude. That’s what this bathroom is for!” Axl said, a dry laughing escaping his mouth.

Saul looked at him and decided that he wanted to help this poor boy. Maybe it was his hidden scared expression, or his beautiful eyes or his silky hair, but Slash was already head over heels for him. Shit.

“Maybe I could help you. I’m not the brightest student, but I have decent grades.” The dark-haired boy proposed with a smile.

Axl looked at him, a bit confused, like he wasn’t used to human help, then a little smile crept on his face.

“You’d really do that? For me? Thanks, man!” Axl said, and then added, “How can I repay you?”

“There’s no need to.”

“Maybe I could go to prom with you! Like as a way to repay you.” The redhead suggested, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Yeah, I’d totally love to go to prom with you, beautiful angel! Slash thought.

“I-I mean, you d-don’t have to! But I’d really enjoy going with you.” Slash said, trying to sound as chill as possible. Axl’s smile was very visible now, and it was hard to believe that he was the most badass son of a bitch in the school.

“ Still, thanks dude! Uh... See you tomorrow at your place, then. If it’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. See you tomorrow!”

The older boy gave him a pat on the shoulder, then he exited the bathroom.

Yep Slash, you’re totally fucked now!

The next morning the curly-haired boy had his head in the clouds, totally ignoring what his teacher or anyone else was saying. All his thoughts were diverging towards a certain redheaded boy that he was going to meet later in the day.

“You’re totally out of it today, aren’t you? What’s going on?” Slash’s best friend Duff asked, after trying to catch the other boy’s attention for the third time during the lesson.

“If I tell you that I’m just too interested in learning to not care about you, would you believe me?”

“Yeah, totally!” The tall boy replied sarcastically.

“Well… Axl Rose is coming to my house to study later,” he whispered, his tone a bit scared.

“Okay, but I don’t understand what this has to do with you being… OH SHIT! You totally have a crush on him!”

“Would you lower your voice, damn! I don’t want the whole school to hear.”

“Aww, little Slash is in love and embarrassed!” The blond taunted him.

“Fuck you, Duff!”

“So, how exactly did that happen? It’s not like you and the school’s resident criminal talk every day.”

“Um… Promise me you won’t tell this to anybody, okay? Swear it on your bass guitar!” Slash stated seriously.

“Okay, man, but you better hope that nothing happens to my baby or I’ll cut all your guitar’s strings!”

Slash simply told him everything, trying to not leave out any details, hoping that his friend would be able to tell if Axl was into him or not.

“I don’t know, man. It was an encounter that was too short to let you know anything. Try to drop some hints when you two are together. After all, he’s your date to prom so you have to get to know each other a bit.” Duff declared, and then the bell rang.

“I have gym now, see you later Giraffe!” The curly-haired man said playfully.

“Slash… Just be careful, Axl Rose can be a heartbreaker!” His best friend said, giving him a pat.

Oh believe me Duff, he has already broken mine and we still have to start.

----

The afternoon came way too soon, in Saul’s opinion, and now he was freaking out. Why was he freaking out? Wasn’t he the chilliest dude on Earth? Apparently his shy side take on. Or he was just hopelessly in love with Axl?

The bell suddenly rang and as he opened the door, he was faced with his favorite redhead: fuck, he looked so hot with his leather pants, band shirt, and his badass attitude. He gave the younger boy a charming smile as he entered his living room.

“So where are we going to study?” Axl asked, trying to seem interested. Slash was well aware that studying wasn’t his favorite activity.

“In my bedroom.” The curly-haired boy replied, chill.

“Well, usually bedrooms are for other activities! But since you’re my tutor, I guess I have to follow you,” Axl smirked.

Wait, was Axl trying to say something to him?

Slash tried to regain his composure and to not fucking blush right in front of him. He simply turned around and gestured for the other boy to follow him, leading him to his room.

“Wow dude, is that a Queen poster? I fucking love them!” Axl said, enthusiastic.

“I get that from your T-shirt, but I’m glad to have someone to talk about rock!” Saul said back, a little smile forming on his mouth. Axl seemed a bit taken off, but he smiled back.

“I think it’s time that we start to study, this is what I’ve come here for, right?” Axl stated, trying to not sound nervous. Axl Rose was nervous?

The younger man just nodded and had him sit on his bed.

Slash actually found out that Axl wasn’t “dumb” or that bad at studying. He just needed time and someone who helped him and explained things he didn’t know.

“Did I get the correct answer?” The redhead asked for the hundredth time.

“No man, I’m sorry. It was B.” Slash said, feeling a bit sad for the poor guy.

“Ugh, dude, can we be done for the day? I can come back tomorrow, if that’s okay with you. I don’t think I can fit any more information in my brain!” Axl’s voice sounded really tired.

“Yeah totally, I’ll grab something to drink, you can lay on the bed, if you want to.” Saul said, trying to sound as chill as possible.

Luckily his parents were still outside, so he could steal two beers from the fridge and a couple of his mother’s cigarettes. A part of him was so happy that Axl was going to come over again tomorrow; he couldn’t wait to spend more time with him, but he also wondered if Axl did that on purpose.

Did Axl Rose really want to spend more time with him? Or was he just trying to use him? Slash offered his help, so that couldn’t be!

Lost in his thoughts, the younger boy almost didn’t notice his guest taking an interest in his guitar.

“Do you like it?” He asked calmly, and Axl almost jumped.

“Oh shit man, I didn’t mean to be nosy. It’s just that I didn’t know you had an electric guitar!” Axl justified himself, sounding a bit nervous.

“Yeah, I play, I’m hoping to be in a band someday. Wanna hear something?” The redhead just nodded and Slash started to tune his guitar.

“Do you have any requests?” Slash asked. Axl simply shook his head.

Saul decided to play something that he wrote a while ago; he tried to let his heart lead him, forcing himself to not look at the beautiful boy standing next to him.

After a couple of minutes, he heard a voice sing in such a wonderful way that he stopped playing for a second. He lifted his gaze and found Axl staring at him, still singing.

“I didn’t know that you could sing! Honestly, I didn’t expect that from you.” Slash stated, and Axl blushed a tiny bit.

“You also didn’t tell me that you could play this good! And, well, I’m in the church choir.” He almost whispered the last part, like he was ashamed of it. Slash didn’t comment on that, not wanting to upset him.

“It’s just something that I wrote. What song was that, anyway?” Saul said, trying to avoid focusing the attention on himself.

“I wrote it.” Axl replied, then grabbed his beer and took a sip.

Slash put a random record on, then he gestured to Axl to sit on his bed. They stayed like that for a while, the curly-haired boy trying to get closer and closer to the other without being noticed. Axl had his eyes closed, enjoying the music, and Slash thought that he was the most wonderful boy on Earth.

When the song was over, the redhead looked at the clock. His eyes were wide and he gulped down what was left of his beer in a single sip.

“Fuck… Shit… Man it’s really late, I have to go now. Is it okay for me to come on Thursday?” He sounded really scared, like something bad was about to happen.

Slash simply nodded and led him to the front door. Before leaving, he hugged him awkwardly; he could smell cigarettes, alcohol, and his cologne. He wanted it to last forever, he didn’t want Axl to leave this fast—He wanted Axl to like him back.

As soon as he shut the door, he let himself fall on the couch. He was so confused… Why did Axl have to rush away like that? Why did he seem so sweet but also distant? Would he keep his promise to go to prom with him?

“Axl Rose can be a heartbreaker!” Slash heard Duff’s voice in his head.

He just hoped that wasn’t the case.

Taglist : @slashscowboyboots @duffshairdye @cosmicrealmofkissteria @ozzy-dumbass-of-darkness @smokeandmirrorz @thespacecowboyyy

#axl rose #slash #slaxl #guns n roses #highschool au #au #fanfic #80srock #80s rock band

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markswoman · 5 years ago

Text

slow hands | ml

mark’s lips are soft, warm, and sweet. they feel perfect pressed against your cold, dry ones. you think it must not be very pleasant, kissing your weak, dying lips but mark doesn’t seem to mind, kissing your breath away at any given opportunity. it probably isn’t good for your health, being breathless so often.

but death by kisses sounds like a nice way to go.

pairing | mark lee x terminally ill!reader | fluff + angst | 11.6k |

warnings: swearing, depressing thoughts, death

cr to haechanforpresident2020

“I want ice cream.”

Taeyong frowns at you. You know what he’s going to say but you don’t want to hear it. You really, really want some ice cream.

“I haven’t had anything but soup for the past two weeks! Please, Taeyong, please!”

“But—“

“Please, please, please,” you cut him off. You know Taeyong is stubborn but you’re even more stubborn and you’re going to get some ice cream if it’s the last thing you do.

Taeyong starts saying “You-,” but, before he can get anything else out, you cut him off again.

“I need to get some fresh air. I’ve been cooped up in here for five hundred years; you need to let me out if you don’t want me to go crazy!”

You can see Taeyong‘s resolve breaking. You put on your biggest pout—Taeyong’s one and only weakness—and bat your eyelashes. He rolls his eyes at you but when you hear his resigned sigh, you know you’ve won.

“Fine—but don’t start celebrating just yet,” he snaps at the look of triumph that spreads across your face. “You have to be back in 20 minutes.” You enthusiastically nod your head and Taeyong sighs again. “Put on some sunscreen; it’s really sunny. Take an umbrella too. And put on your cap. Also, don’t forget—“

“Yongie,” you cut him off for the third time and you’re sure Taeyong would’ve yelled at you this time if you hadn’t called him Yongie. You never call him Yongie.

Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Stop worrying,” you flash him your cute, kittenish smile and walk to the door. “It’s not like I’m going on a five-week hike through the desert. The ice cream parlor is literally just ten minutes away.”

“Still! Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?”

“No!” You’re already rushing out the door as you call out, “Thanks, Taeyong!”

You hear his faint, “Be careful” and chuckle, slowing down.

You cheerfully swing the umbrella you grabbed on your way out and hum as you make your way to the elevator. Just as you get to it, the shiny metal doors open and an old man, followed closely by his daughter, hobble out.

“Hello!” He greets you happily. “Going out?”

“Yup! For ice cream. Would you like to come with, Mr. Kim?”

Mr. Kim shakes his head, smiling sadly, “I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got a hot date with my bed.”

“Well, then don’t let me keep you,” you laugh. “But you should join me one day.”

“One day,” Mr. Kim’s smile grows even sadder. “If I’m not dead by then.”

You frown but don’t say anything. What could you even say to that? Fortunately, you were saved from having to come up with a response by Mr. Kim’s daughter, who mumbles, “Stop saying stuff like that,” and drags him away.

“Have fun, kid.” Mr. Kim waves you goodbye.

Still frowning, you wave back. “Yeah… thanks.”

With spirits significantly dampened, you trudge into the elevator. You know it’s not Mr. Kim’s fault but you still blame the old man for ruining your mood. You’re finally going to get ice cream after two weeks of craving it and now, thanks to old Mr. Kim, you can’t even enjoy it properly.

You grumble to yourself about your day being ruined but, as soon as you exit the elevator and slowly walk out of large, white gates, you instantly feel better. You love going out, leaving that horrid building you have to live in, breathing in air that smells grassy and windy and just so natural.

You walk slowly, swinging your umbrella with every step.

The sight of the ice cream parlor brings a smile to your face. You and Donghyuck used to go there all the time. Both of you went there so often that everyone who worked there knew you. You wonder if they still remember you. You haven’t been there in a while.

As soon as you enter, the first thing you notice is how many people there are. The place is absolutely crowded, which is understandable since it is the middle of summer but you were definitely not expecting to see so many people. You look around and nervously adjust your cap.

“Wow, is it really you?”

You jump and spin around to see, Chenle, your favorite employee at the ice cream parlor, smiling very happily at you from behind the counter.

“Hey, Chenle,” you grin, “Long time no see.”

“I know!” He exclaims and, after a moment, asks, “The usual?” Even though he knows the answer.

He’s already scooping your ice cream by the time you say, “Yep!”

After paying and thanking Chenle, you look around again. There’s no place for you to sit and you don't want to go back to Taeyong and his constant fussing just yet. Sighing, you walk out of the parlor to find a place to sit outside.

As soon as you leave the cool, air conditioned interior of the parlor, a gust of hot, sticky air hits you square in the face, making you wince. There are a few empty benches but all of them are directly under the sun. The only bench protected from the harsh rays is occupied by a boy and his guitar. Unfortunately for you, the boy doesn’t look like he’ll be getting up anytime soon.

You think about sitting in the sun before concluding that that’s a very bad idea. The only two options you have left are going back or sitting with the stranger.

You observe him for a few seconds. The boy looks to be around your age, maybe a year or two younger. He’s wearing a bright green cap, has a cone of bright white ice cream with blackish brown bits in his hand and has a very bright smile. Overall, he seems like a very happy person. He definitely doesn’t look mean or particularly threatening in any way and, even though you aren’t great with strangers, you’re by no means a shy person. So you slowly walk over to the bench with your friendliest smile on your face.

When you are just a step away, the boy finally notices you. He smiles kindly and the first thing you notice is his tiny dimple. You’re distracted by it for a second before you finally snap out of it and ask, “Can I sit here?”

The boy smiles a little wider, nodding. He makes room for you, scooting a little bit to the edge of the bench and dragging his guitar with him.

“Thanks,” you say, sitting down a little awkwardly because you seem to have forgotten how to act in front of ‘normal’ people. “Can I have your name?”

The boy shows off his tiny dimple once again. “I’m Mark.”

“So, um…” you decide to try and make conversation. Nice ice cream.”

You mentally scold yourself for sounding so awkward. That’s what lack of practice does to a person. You make a mental note to tell Taeyong about this to convince him to let you go outside more often so you don't become completely antisocial.

Mark doesn’t seem to think you’re too weird though because he flashes you another smile. “Yeah, it is. Cookies and cream. What’s yours?”

“Brambleberry crisp,” you proudly say. Not many people share your taste in ice cream which makes you feel very important and hipster.

Mark’s eyes grow a little wide. “Brambleberry crisp? I’ve never tried that before!”

“Well, you should,” you say seriously. “It’s the best ice cream flavor out there.”

“Really?” Mark looks skeptical. “I don’t know, I really like cookies and cream.”

“Cookies and cream is okay, I guess. It’s really sweet and perfect for little kids—”

“Hey!” Mark interrupts you, looking mildly offended. “Cookies and cream is not just for little kids!”

He’s flailing his hand around and trying to scold you but all you’re looking at is how the ice cream on Mark’s cone is dangerously close to falling off.

“Um Mark,” you try to warn the boy. “You might want to stop moving your hands so much.”

“Huh?”

Too late. Mark hasn’t even realized he’s holding an empty cone; he’s just staring at you with wide eyes, still looking somewhat offended.

“You dropped your ice cream.”

Mark’s face goes through a series of highly exaggerated expressions once he realizes what you’re talking about. First there’s confusion, of course. Then shock. Then anger. And then finally, despair.

“My ice cream!” He whines, staring at the fallen treat. “My baby!”

You laugh. “Stop being a drama queen. Just buy a new one.”

“I can’t just buy a new one,” Mark turns to glare at you.

“Why not?”

Mark sighs, deflating. “They’re all out of cookies an cream. I got the last scoop.”

“That’s perfect!” You jump to your feet. “Now you can try brambleberry crisp and see what you’ve been missing out on your whole life.”

It takes a bit of persuasion but you manage to convince Mark to spend the rest of his pocket money on, what you tell Mark will be, a life changing experience.

When Mark takes his first lick, you watch very closely. If Mark wasn’t so preoccupied with his ice cream right now, you’re sure he would have been creeped out by how intensely he’s being watched.

“Well?” You ask, a little apprehensive. “Do you like it?”

None of your friends are fond of brambleberry crisp. Donghyuck had even called it an ‘abomination’ once. You don't understand why. Even though you love it, you don't think the ice cream is interesting enough to deserve that title.

“It’s good!” Mark exclaims. “Not as good as cookies and cream, though. But still good.”

You groan, deeming him a lost cause.

As you both finish your ice cream, you just talk. You don’t really talk about anything in particular, topics ranging from the importance of ice cream in daily life to Mark’s adventures in Vancouver to which superpower would be the most fun to have.

“I’m not going to be all mainstream and say invisibility or flight,” you declare. “I think the power of lightning would be super cool.”

“The power of lightning?” Mark laughs. “So what, electricity?”

“Okay, not just lightning. Storms. The power of storms.”

“That sounds kind of lame to me,” Mark giggles at your gasp. “It also sounds very destructive. If I could have any superpower, I’d choose the power to heal.”

A year ago, you would have poked fun at anyone who’d choose healing as their superpower. But now, you think Mark may be on to something.

“What would you heal?”

Mark must have been expecting you to make a snide remark at his choice of power because he takes a minute to answer. “I’d heal hearts,” he finally says. “Broken hearts and corrupted minds and lost souls and, of course, ill bodies. I’d heal anything that needs healing and stay far away from things that don’t because, you know what they say, ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’” Mark says the last bit in English and you burst out laughing.

“Don’t tell anyone I said this,” you tell Mark when he’s finally gotten all his giggles out. “No one would ever believe you even if you did. But your superpower might actually be better than mine.”

Mark beams at you, smile so bright it almost blinds you.

Eventually, you remember you have a curfew and reluctantly check your watch. You almost have a heart attack when you see you spent not 20 but 80 minutes at the ice cream parlor. The thought of leaving Mark has you unwilling to get up. You’ve known the boy for an hour but it feels like you’ve known each other for years.

“Hey, Mark” you force yourself to say, interrupting Mark’s story about how he once got attacked by pigeons at his friend’s house back in Canada. “I kind of have to go now.”

“Oh,” Mark frowns, looking as disappointed as you feel.

“Yeah, I'm already late,” you sigh. You have to get back quick, before Taeyong files a missing persons report. Mark nods, waving a tiny wave when you stand up.

“See you around!” You wave back and hurriedly walk away, ignoring the little pang in your chest because you know you probably won’t ever see him around.

On the walk back, you feel sad but you also feel incredibly happy. You feel normal, something you haven't felt in a while.

Unfortunately, your happiness is gone as soon as you step in through the dreary hospital gates and come face to face with Taeyong. He has his phone in one hand, your phone in the other and a look of pure malice on his face.

Oh, shit.

“Where were you!” He screams, charging at you. “Twenty minutes. I said twenty minutes and you took over an hour! And you didn’t even take your phone with you! Why aren’t you using your umbrella? Are you tired? Are you alright? How could you just leave your phone? Seriously, what if something had happened?”

Taeyong keeps fussing over and chastising you all the way to the elevator.

“Sorry. Lost track of time,” you mumble, trying to tune out his incessant shrieking. He’s still lecturing you as he walks you to your room.

Forcing you into your bed, Taeyong tells you to rest. “Isn’t your hyper friend coming to visit today? You need to store up some energy to deal with him.”

You yell at Taeyong that you’re not tired and Donghyuck isn’t that hard to handle, but as soon as the nurse is out of the room, you slump down, exhausted, and fall asleep almost immediately.

Almost as soon as you fall asleep, you’re woken up by an obnoxiously loud voice yelling, “Holy shit!” right into your ear.

Groaning, you open your eyes to glare at your best friend. “What are you doing here so early? Weren’t you supposed to come at four?”

“I’m actually late,” Donghyuck pouts from where he’d just tripped over the chair next to your bed. “It’s already five o’clock.”

You’re a bit amazed because you’re so sure it was still two in the afternoon and that you had just fallen asleep. You feel more than a bit disoriented because apparently you’d been asleep for three whole hours.

“Why are you so late, then?” You eventually ask.

“Got sidetracked,” Donghyuck shrugs from the floor, not bothering to get up after his ungraceful fall. “There was this cute guy downstairs. He was singing to kids and looking so hot…” he trails off dreamily.

You roll your eyes. Typical Donghyuck. “Well, it’s almost time for my radiotherapy so we can’t hang out for long.”

“But I just got here!” Donghyuck starts whining, finally picking himself up off the floor.

“That’s your own fault.”

“It’s not my fault! If anything, it’s the cute guy’s fault! He’s hot and plays guitar, which means he’s exactly my type.”

You choose to ignore him and close your eyes, trying to go back to sleep until Taeyong comes to take you down to radiotherapy.

“Speaking of hot people who play guitar,” Donghyuck continues, “where’s Dr. Park?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Gross, Hyuck.”

“Don’t be such a downer.”

“I’m not being a downer,” you force yourself to open your eyes in order to glare at him. “I just think it’s creepy you have a crush on a fifty year old woman.”

“She’s not fifty!” Donghyuck squawks indignantly. “She’s like 35 tops! And it doesn’t even matter anyway,” he says, climbing into your bed. “Age is just a number.”

“Not if it’s illegal,” you snort.

“It’s not illegal, you twat. I'm already a legal adult!”

“Donghyuck, Dr. Park was already at least 17 when we were just babies—”

“Love is love!”

The door suddenly opens and Taeyong comes barging in. “What are you two yelling about? Donghyuck, get off the bed unless you want to attend radio too.”

You bid farewell to Donghyuck, who pouts again and hugs you, saying, “I’ll come back sometime next week. My parents are taking me on another stupid trip.”

You chuckle at his sour expression. Donghyuck’s family is always going on vacations, road trips and adventures. Donghyuck hates it but you’re actually kind of jealous of him.

Dr. Cho is already there when you get to the radio room, as you like to call it. It sounds a lot less scary than radiation lab.

You end up falling asleep in the middle of your radiation therapy and is woken up by a gentle pat on the arm by the doctor.

“You must have been really tired if you were able to sleep in that head mask,” Dr. Cho smiles teasingly.

It’s true, you were very tired. You’re still tired. All you want to do is go straight to bed and sleep until your mom gets back from work.

But no, you’re going to go up to the roof first because it’s part of your routine and you love it up there. It’s the only place you’re allowed to go that doesn’t smell like a hospital. It’s the only place where no one comes to bother you.

Well, except Taeyong who comes to drag you back to your room once it gets dark.

So, for the sake of your sanity, you slowly trudge up to the roof and, you breathe a sigh of relief as you open the door to greet the slowly darkening sky.

No one’s ever there at this time of the day, so you’re taken aback when you see someone already occupying the little ledge you usually sit on. At first you’re annoyed. The roof is the one place you can hide out without having people constantly fussing over you and now it’s been stolen from you.

But as you inch closer to the person, you realize something. You stare at the person’s back, their guitar, their suspiciously familiar bright green cap.

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Mark?”

Mark, or maybe it’s not Mark, yelps and jumps onto his feet, clutching his guitar to his chest. Your heart leaps. It’s Mark. All thoughts of your safe space being invaded are gone in an instant.

When he sees you, Mark’s startled expression morphs into one of absolute delight.

“Hey!” He exclaims, putting his guitar down and scrambling to you. “What are you doing here?”

“No, what are you doing here?” You ask, barely believing you’re actually seeing Mark.

“I’m a volunteer here,” Mark says, proudly. He stands a little straighter, showing off his stupidly handsome again. “Today is my first day, actually. I play songs for the kids. Help cheer them up and stuff,” his smile wavers a little and then comes back in full force, his beauty almost blinding you for the second time today. “What about you? What are you doing here? Are you also a volunteer?”

“Uh, no,” you shift uncomfortably. “I'm a patient.”

Mark just nods a little bit and, thankfully, doesn’t ask any more questions.

“So,” you start, eager to change the subject. “You play guitar for sick kids, huh? How noble of you.”

Mark blushes and walks back over to the ledge where his guitar is sitting. “It’s nothing like that. I just love playing and, for some reason, kids seem to love my music. Plus,” he smiles when you sit yourself next to him, “my motives aren’t entirely selfless.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching Mark play with the strings of his guitar.

“I know one of the kids and,” he pauses. “He’s not doing too well. So, I want to spend as much time with him as possible and make him smile as much as I can before…”

You ignore the familiar feeling of heaviness in your chest and gasp at Mark. “You monster!” You clutch your heart, “And here I was thinking you were some sort of kindhearted saint but no, you’re just a disgusting, self-centered asshole.”

“Sorry you had to find out like this,” Mark solemnly bows his head while you shake your own, muttering, “selfish, selfish, selfish.”

You continue teasing Mark, who laughs loud enough to wake up the entire hospital.

“Those kids were really sweet,” Mark says, looking at the ferris wheel in the distance once you’ve run out of clever ways to tease each other. “I wrote a few songs just for today and they seemed to really enjoy them.”

You want to ask Mark to play something but Taeyong decides to pick that moment to show up.

“You little br–!” He yells, swinging the metal door to the roof open only to come to a stop. Both you and Mark turn to look at him.

“Oh, hello.” He says, clearly surprised to see another human on the roof with you. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

All of a sudden, he smirks and, from the way his eyes are flitting from you to Mark, you know exactly what Taeyong is thinking.

“Okay, well I guess that’s my cue to leave,” you hastily jump up and scurry over to Taeyong before he can say anything embarrassing. “Bye, Mark!” You call out before completely disappearing from his line of sight.

You’re given a lot of time to feel guilty about abruptly leaving Mark. As soon as you step in the elevator together for the second time today, Taeyong starts nudging you.

“Who was that?” He asks, looking a little excited.

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “A friend, I guess. His name is Mark. He plays guitar for the kids downstairs.”

Taeyong keeps asking questions about Mark even when you’re all tucked up in bed.

“Taeyong!” You yell when he asks you Mark’s shoe size. “First of all, why do you even need to know that?” You narrow your eyes at him. “And second of all, I literally just met him today; I don’t know his whole life story for god’s sake.”

“I’m just curious okay!” Taeyong defends himself. “And I'm glad you’re making friends who seem well-mannered and polite.”

You chuckle at the obvious shade Taeyong is throwing at your best friend. You love Donghyuck but Taeyong is right about the boy not being the most polite and well-mannered teenager out there.

You hear your mom enter your room a few minutes after Taeyong leaves.

“You’re up!” is the first thing she says when she sees her child. “I was worried you’d be asleep and I wouldn’t get to talk to you.”

“It’s just ten o’clock, Mom. I don’t get sleepy until at least after midnight.” A yawn immediately follow your words.

Your mom smile knowingly at you, sitting down next to your bed. “Taeyong told me you went to get ice cream all by yourself today.”

“Yeah, I’m a big kid now, aren’t I?” You bat your eyelashes at your mom who giggles.

“My baby is so precious,” she coos, pinching your cheeks.

“Mom, get off me!” You flail, pushing your mother away. “I thought you said you wanted to talk to me, not manhandle me.”

“Oh, yeah,” her smile disappears and she looks a little guilty. “I have to go out of town for a few days. I’m so sorry, honey. I wish I could skip it. I really don’t want to leave you. I even told my supervisor that I can’t go but this is a very important business trip and they really need me and—”

“Mom,” you cut off your mom’s rambling. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. I understand.” You say it as sincerely as you can, trying to show your mother that you really do understand.

She has a job that keeps her so busy she can barely see you even though you live together. Sometimes you feel bad for your mom. She works from early morning to late at night every day, sometimes even on weekends. You know she mostly does it because she genuinely loves her job, but also so she can pay your hospital bills without having to give up food for a month.

“I should tell Taeyong,” she says, grabbing your hand.

“I need to make sure he takes extra good care of you. And doesn’t let you run away.”

“I'm not going to run away, Mom.”

—

When you go up to the roof the next day, Mark is already there, strumming his guitar, looking lazily at the large wheel in the distance.

“Hello,” you say, sitting down.

Mark stops playing and, immediately, you miss the soft music.

“Hey,” Mark smiles. “Do you come up here every day?”

You nod, “Every day after radio.”

“Radio?” Mark asks, slightly frowning as he puts his guitar back in its case.

Oh dear. Usually you avoid talking about all things related to your shitty health so you won’t have to see the looks of pity being thrown at you. You hate yourself whenever you accidentally let anything slip.

“Radiation therapy,” you tell Mark.

Just like the other day, Mark just nods and asks no further questions.

You wonder if he’s uncomfortable.

For a second, there’s a bit of tense silence, then you pout a little bit and point at Mark’s guitar case.

“Hey, why’d you put it away?”

“What? My guitar? Mark asks, looking confused.

“Yeah,” you pout even harder. “Can you play something for me? Please? Please, please, please?”

Mark laughs, “You’re worse than the kids.”

He takes his instrument out of its case a little excitedly, spurred on by your begging, almost banging it on the hard floor.

“Mark! Holy shit, calm down!” You yell.

Mark smiles sheepishly and positions the guitar on his lap.

“I’ll play you the kids’ favorite song,” he says, eyes crinkling. “They made me play it nine times today!”

Mark plays a happy tune and starts singing in what sounds like English. He has a nice, soft voice that makes goosebumps appear on your arm.

Without realizing it, you start swaying side to side with the beat, laughing when Mark gives you a smug look and says, “That’s the power of my music.”

Mark plays more songs for you and you hum along to some of them, making Mark look even more pleased. Mark tells you that you should come down to watch him play for the kids one day.

When Mark puts the guitar down, you immediately starts showering him with compliments.

“Those were some pretty impressive fingering skills, Mark Lee,” you tease, making Mark burst into a fit of giggles and blush a deep red.

Mark, in turn, compliments your humming, although his compliment actually has innocent intentions. You tell him you’d been in your high school’s choir and you used to love singing all the time.

“You don’t anymore?”

“Not really.”

Mark doesn’t ask why.

When Taeyong finally comes to get you, the only source of light on the roof is the tiny crescent moon above the two of you and the lights from the ferris wheel; but it’s too far away to actually light up anything.

“See you tomorrow!” You say, getting up and dusting off the bottom of your pants.

“Looking forward to it!” Mark calls back as you rush inside to catch up with Taeyong.

It’s your third meeting with Mark when Mark finally asks what you’re in the hospital for.

“What do you think I'm in a cancer hospital for?” You tease, laughing a little at the panicked look that settles on Mark’s face. “Don’t worry,” you say, putting a hand on Mark’s knee. “I’m just messing with you.”

Mark doesn’t look reassured though, so you decide to just tell him.

“Brain cancer. Or anaplastic astrocytoma, but I personally think brain cancer sounds less scary, don’t you?”

Mark’s eyes widen comically and he looks so concerned, you almost feel bad for telling him. Mark seems to realize he’s making a strange expression because he quickly changes it into a poker face, though you can still see hints of worry and sadness.

“Oh,” he says.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” you apologize, removing your hand from where it had been resting on Mark’s knee.

“No, no, no!” Mark hurriedly says. “Don’t be sorry! I was the one who asked.” After a pause, he hesitantly asks, “Is it—are you getting better?”

You honestly don’t know if you are. You can’t really say you feel much better but according to Dr. Cho, you’re recovering really well and according to Dr. Park, you’ll be better in no time. You don't even know if you want to believe them because it seems way too good to be true.

You don’t want to burden Mark though, so you just tell him, “Yeah, my doctors say I’ll be fine.”

At this, Mark looks relieved and continues asking questions that you’re tired of answering.

“I had a pretty rare tumor that was all tentacle-y and gross and it looked like long fingers were holding my brain,” you explain. You sneak a look at Mark, who’s wearing an unreadable expression. “Anyway,” you continue, “I had surgery and they removed it, or as much of it as they could. Now I'm doing radio to get rid of the rest.”

Mark nods, softly saying, “I'm sorry you have to go through all of this.”

“Well, it’s not the most fun thing in the world,” you chuckle. “But at least I'm still alive.” For now.

“And,” you add, “I get to miss school.”

Mark mumbles something about never complaining about his life ever again, making you smile.

You don’t talk much after that, both of you lost deep in your own thoughts. You’re just watching the ferris wheel spin round and round when Mark’s phone suddenly rings, filling the strange silence wit his jarring ringtone.

“It’s my friend,” Mark tells you before answering the call.

You try not to listen but it’s quiet and you’re the only ones on the roof so you still hear Mark’s say, “Hey Yukhei,” and, “No, I'm still at the hospital.” And, “Yeah, I'm coming.” And, “No, it’s okay.”

When he finally hangs up, Mark looks a little disappointed. “Sorry, but I think I should go now.”

You wave off the apology and say goodbye to Mark with a small wave. You stare at the ferris wheel for a few more minutes before thinking you might as well go back too. It’s a little strange Taeyong hasn’t come to drag you down yet.

What’s even stranger is, when you enter your room, your mom is already there.

“Where have you been?”

“Roof,” you tiredly tell her, climbing into bed.

Your mother smiles and walks over to sit on a chair next to your bed. “Were you getting some fresh air?”

You sleepily nod.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet,” your mom frowns, shaking you fully awake. “I brought you soup!”

You groan. “Soup, really? I think I’ve had enough soup for a lifetime.”

“It’s homemade! You won’t get to have my homemade soup until next week.”

You groan again but graciously accept the soup when your mom hands it to you.

The next morning, you’re softly woken up by your mother, who quietly whispers, “I'm going now, okay? See you in five days. I love you. Bye.”

She kisses your forehead and you mumble, “Bye, mom.”

You hear her chuckle before falling back asleep.

It’s one of those days when you’re bored and hate your life. Why are you stuck in a hospital? Why do you have cancer? Why is your life such a mess?

Taeyong tries to cheer you up whenever this happens. He usually just calls Donghyuck who always comes running over to hang out and effectively make you feel better. But Donghyuck isn’t here.

“Why don’t you hang out with your roof friend?” Taeyong suggests.

“I can’t,” you moan into your pillow. “We only meet on the roof after radio.”

“Didn’t you say he plays for Dr. Kim’s kids downstairs?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t you meet him there?”

You end up excitedly running all the way to the pediatric wing. You bump into Dr. Kim on the way and the poor doctor almost falls. “Sorry, Dr. Kim,” you hurriedly call out, still running.

You don't know if you’re more excited to see Mark so early in the day or to see Mark play for the kids he never stops talking about. Probably both.

As you enter the pediatric wing, you can see Mark surrounded by children, and even a few parents, in the tiny waiting room. Smiling at the sight of a dozen little boys and girls looking up at Mark in awe, you quietly step in the room, careful not to attract any attention to yourself.

You find a small unoccupied beanbag chair and drag it to a corner of the room to watch Mark in peace. Mark still hasn’t seen you and you’re glad you can see Mark in his element.

Most of the songs that Mark plays are the same ones he plays on the roof and you find yourself humming along to more than a few.

Mark finally sees you in the middle of a song and pauses for a beat, flashing one of his blinding smiles. As soon as the song is over, Mark announces that it’s time to take a break and hurries over to you.

“You came!” Mark squeals like a little girl. “Did you like it? How was it?”

Before you can answer though, something small runs into Mark’s legs and wraps two tiny arms around them, yelling, “Mark hyung! You were so good!”

You laugh at the look of shock on Mark’s face as the little boy gives his legs a squeeze and runs away. “Well, there’s your answer.”

“That’s Jisung,” Mark tells you, who’s watching the kid run up to Dr. Kim. “His mom is friends with my mom.”

“Is he your selfish reason for coming here?” You ask.

Mark smiles, plopping down on the edge of your bean bag chair. “Yeah, but now that I’ve grown way too fond of all the kids, they’re all my selfish reasons for coming here.”

You shake your head, sighing. “I’ve never met anyone so selfish in my life.”

Soon, Mark goes back to the middle of the room to play again and, minutes later, Taeyong arrives to take you to radio. Mark is too busy to notice you leaving but it’s okay because you see each other again on the roof.

It becomes a sort of routine for you. Every day, before radio, you go to see Mark play for the kids. Then, after radio, you go to see Mark on the roof, and usually make him play again. By now, you have almost all of Mark’s songs memorized, sometimes even singing along with him even though you have no idea what he’s saying.

Whenever you sing along with him, Mark lowers his own voice so he can hear yours better. That is, until you catch on and seal your lips, shaking your head at a pouting Mark.

—

One day, Mark asks you where your parents are. It’s so out of the blue that you’re a little taken aback. Mark looks embarrassed and apologizes for being nosy. You tell him he apologizes too much.

“My parents are divorced,” you say. “And yes, I know my life sounds like a sad John Green book; the kid with cancer has divorced parents and was raised by their single mother who is never around.” Mark cracks a smile at that so you continue. “Anyway, my dad lives in China with his wife, and my mom is currently away on a business trip.”

“Does she go out of town a lot?” Mark asks cautiously, as if he’s afraid of overstepping boundaries.

“She used to,” you shrug. “She stopped after I got sick but apparently this was unavoidable. She works a lot though. Like, all day long. That’s why I'm here, actually. You don’t actually have to stay at the hospital just for radio but my mom didn’t want me home alone.”

Mark looks hesitant to ask any more questions and you don't really want to talk about this anymore so you poke Mark’s guitar. “Aren’t you going to play for me today?”

Mark’s smile, once again, tries to blind you. “Of course I am.”

When you get back to your room that night, you have the urge to call your mom. All that mom talk on the roof made you miss her.

She sounds a little breathless, albeit happy to hear from you, when she picks up.

“Mom, are you busy?” You ask, instantly regretting calling and disturbing her.

“A little bit, but it’s okay. Is something wrong?”

“No, I just missed you,” you mumble, snuggling into your covers.

The line is quiet for a minute and you think your mom must have hung up on you until you hear a sniffle.

“Oh,” she says softly. “I miss you too. So much.”

“Are you about to cry?” You ask. “Mom, please don’t cry.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” she tells you, voice breaking.

You sigh, “So, things are really busy?”

“Yeah,” your mom sounds like she’s already crying. “I know I was supposed to come back this week but things are really not going according to plan and it looks like I might have to stay longer.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” you soothe, wishing you could be with her to make her stop crying.

“I’m so sorry,” she keeps apologizing in her shaky voice. “I shouldn’t have left you. Now that I'm here, I can’t just get up and leave until everything is done.”

You keep comforting your mom, telling her that it’s okay and you understand until you hear someone on her end calling her name. You tell her not to cry one last time before you hang up and tell yourself the same thing before you go to sleep.

It’s one of the warmer nights on the roof when you leave your jacket up there. Unfortunately, you only remember about it when you’re already comfortably sitting in bed. Feeling grumpy, you stomp your way back up to the roof to retrieve it.

When you get there, though, you’re surprised to see your jacket is not on the ledge where you left it, but with Mark, who still hasn’t left.

“Mark!” You yell, startling him. “What are you still doing here?”

“Uh,” Mark looks at you and then the jacket in his hands. “I was going to give this to you.”

“So, you stayed up here for half an hour to do that?” You raise your eyebrows.

Mark shrugs, “I didn’t want to go home just yet.”

“Are you going home now?”

“No.”

“Then come to my room!” You poke Mark’s nose. “We can talk some more.”

The next day, when Taeyong comes to whisk you away, you ask Mark, “Are you going to go home now?”

When Mark says no, you smile.

“Well then you’re coming with me!” You latch yourself to Mark’s arm and drag him downstairs with you.

It becomes a new routine. You stay up on the roof, talking while Mark plays his guitar as background music. Then, when Taeyong comes to take you down, you take Mark with you.

One day, while you’re both on the roof, you ask Mark why he doesn’t like going home.

“I wish I could go home,” you say, trying to keep the longing out of your voice. “Or at least leave here. I’d never voluntarily spend time at this place.”

“Well,” Mark says, not looking at you. “I like spending time with you.”

You’re glad it’s dark outside because you can feel your cheeks heating up.

“How about before you started coming to my room?” You ask. “Why didn’t you go home then?”

“I don’t know,” Mark shrugs. “I just don’t like going home I guess.”

You know there’s more to it than that but you let it be. For now at least.

—

Donghyuck finally comes back from his family vacation on one of the rare days you don’t have radio. He barges into your room early in the morning, shouting, “I’m here! Did you miss me?”

Taeyong, who had been fussing over you, groans. “Hello, Donghyuck. Welcome back.”

“Thanks, Yong,” Donghyuck winks at him, hopping onto your bed and hugging you. “I missed you!”

Before you can tell him to get off, Taeyong glares at Donghyuck, sternly saying, “Lee Donghyuck. Get off the bed now.”

Donghyuck whines but still complies, mostly because not even he has the guts to disobey Taeyong. Still, when the nurse leaves the room, Donghyuck climbs back on the bed, cuddling up next to you.

Donghyuck and you talk (nonstop for hours because it’s you and Donghyuck) until you realize it’s way past the usual time you go to see Mark downstairs.

You think about ditching Donghyuck but you’re too nice and end up taking Donghyuck, who’s still talking with you.

Donghyuck loudly gasps as soon as he sees Mark and has you instantly regretting your decision to bring him.

“He’s that guy!” Donghyuck whispers into your ear when you sit down at the back of the room together. You wrinkle your nose at the feeling of your best friend’s hot breath in your ear.

“What guy?”

“The guy I told you about!” Donghyuck says excitedly. “The one who’s hot and plays guitar!”

“Oh yeah,” you remember.

“You know him?” Donghyuck asks, wide eyed.

“Yeah we’re friends.”

Donghyuck gives you a look.

“What?” You ask, sensing trouble.

“Are you fucking?” Donghyuck smirks and you choke on your spit. “Doing the do? Sexing each other up?”

“Donghyuck!” You hiss, looking around to make sure nobody heard Donghyuck’s obnoxiously loud voice.

“Are you?”

“No! We’re just friends!”

Donghyuck gives you a disbelieving look. You choose to ignore him.

“So, what’s his name?” Donghyuck eventually asks.

Reluctantly, you tell him, “Mark.”

“Not Korean?”

“He was born in Canada.”

“Interesting…” Donghyuck looks thoughtful.

“What,” you halfheartedly ask.

“Nothing, it’s just,” Donghyuck leans in a little closer, “Mark is really hot, man. If you don’t want him, give him to me.”

You laugh. “What about Dr. Park?”

“Alas,” Donghyuck sighs dramatically. “I am in love with two beautiful people!”

Once Mark puts down his guitar and finishes saying goodbye to the kids, you take Donghyuck over to him to introduce your two friends to each other.

Surprisingly, Donghyuck doesn’t flirt with Mark.

You'll never admit it, but you’re kind of relieved.

—

Two days before the end of your radiation, Mark and you walk into your room to find someone sleeping on the chair next to your bed.

“Uh, you,” Mark says. “There’s a stranger in your room.”

You smile. “Looks like Mom’s back.”

On your last day at the hospital, you have a checkup with Dr. Park and then radio with Dr. Cho. You go to see Mark during the five minutes you have between the two.

“I want to hear you play again,” you whine, poking Mark’s guitar.

“Hopefully, you will soon,” Mark smiles, pulling you into a hug.

“Hopefully not here,” you mumble into Mark’s neck, making him giggle and push you away.

“My mom is talking to Dr. Park right now,” you tell Mark. Mark hums. “Guess what?” You sound way too enthusiastic for what you’re about to say. “She said I’ll have to come back for a checkup every week.”

“Am I hearing right?” Mark gasps, pulling away from you. “Are you excited about having to come to the hospital every week?”

“It’s not because of you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you glare at Mark. “I'm excited because I’ll get to see little Jisung again.”

Mark pouts. “So you’re not happy, you’ll get to see me?”

“Seeing you will be the only downside of coming back.”

All throughout your radio, you try to come up with a plan to try and see Mark as much as you can. Maybe you can convince Mark to visit you at home since you don't actually want to visit the hospital aside from your weekly checkups.

You’re still thinking about it when Dr. Cho pats you on the back at the end of your last radiotherapy session. “Your hair is finally going to grow back,” he says with a grin. “Maybe not as nicely as you wish, though. It’ll probably be very patchy. Actually it might not even grow back at all. I once had a patient who…”

As Dr. Cho keeps rambling, you decide that you'll invite Mark to your house today. And then you’ll keep on inviting him. And that can be the new routine. Mark can come over to your house every day.

You don’t even realize Dr. Cho has stopped talking until the man pats you on the back again and tells you to take care.

Satisfied with your plan, you rush up to the roof to find Mark, your mom yelling “Don’t take too long!” as you whizz past her. You’re out of breath by the time you make it up there.

“What?” Mark says, surprised. “Aren’t you—”

“Come over to my place!” You breath out. Mark looks stunned and you laugh. “Let’s hang out at my house! It’ll be fun and my mom will drop you off later.”

Slowly, Mark smiles. “Are you sure? Haven’t you gotten tired of me?”

“Shut up,” you shove him. “Have you gotten tired of me?”

Mark’s signature smile shows up with his tiny dimple blinding you for the millionth time since you’ve met Mark. “Never.”

“Then come on!” You wrap your hand around Mark’s wrist and pull him all the way to your mom’s car.

—

Your plan ends up working. Mark doesn’t come over every day, but he does visit you a lot. Those days are your favorite days. You get to just sit at home and talk to Mark almost all night long.

You’re in your room, texting Mark, when your mom comes in, pouting. It’s one of her rare off days and since the moment you woke up, she’s been hovering around you and pouting.

“Mom, why have you been pouting all day?” You ask, putting your phone down. Your mom’s eyes light up a little and she sits down on your bed.

“I was thinking,” she says excitedly. “Since we never get to spend time together, how about we have a fun day!”

“A fun day?” You repeat. “Right now?”

“Yes! Come on! We’ll have so much fun! We can have ice cream and play board games and do puzzles and watch your favorite cartoons!”

That’s exactly what you and your mom do. Normally, you wouldn’t consider playing board games and solving puzzles to be fun activities, but you actually enjoys spending time with your mom doing, what you tell her are, old people activities.

Even though not much physical exertion is required to do those old people activities, you’re exhausted and sleepy by the time the sun goes down.

Your mom notices you falling asleep in the middle of the cartoon marathon and drags you to bed, tucking you in. She sits down next to you and starts singing you to sleep, just like she used to do when you were seven years old and missed your dad.

“Hey, Mom?” You mumble, opening your eyes a tiny bit to look up at your mother. “Aren’t you tired of being single? I mean dad’s already married and you haven’t even dated anyone since,” you shudder, “Dr. Cho.”

Your mom laughs, “I’m married too, you know. To my work. And I can honestly say it’s the best husband I’ve ever had.”

You roll your eyes under your closed eyelids. “But aren’t you lonely?”

“Of course not! I have you.” She kisses you on the forehead, “Now sleep.”

—

Your fourth weekly checkup ends up being on the day your mom has a meeting and Donghyuck has to leave for another family trip. You’re not upset though because it means you can, after a whole month of just hanging out with Mark in your room and occasionally the children’s waiting room, finally hang out with Mark on the roof.

Getting to the hospital is a bit of a hassle. You have to take the bus and walk a little so by the time you make it to Dr. Park’s room, you’re almost completely worn out.

Dr. Park gives you good news, telling you that you can come for your check up in three weeks.

You thank her and eagerly go up to the roof. Mark isn’t there yet so you decide to hide. After exactly 14 minutes, Mark arrives, humming one of his songs. You quietly creep up behind him, crouching a little. Mark is too preoccupied with his humming and doesn’t notice you getting closer.

You’re not sure if you should pounce on Mark or push him or just yell ‘BOO!’

You decide none of the above and inch close to his neck. As quietly as you can, you suck in a breath and blow.

The reaction is immediate. Mark screams, falling to the floor and clutching his hands to his neck. He buries his face in his knees and cries, “Get away! Please! I don’t have any money!”

You start laughing so hard you can barely breathe. You fall to the ground and point at Mark, who has finally lifted his face from his knees and is looking at you with shock and betrayal all over his face.

“I wish I saw your face,” you wheeze. “That scream was priceless!” You start rolling around on the dirty floor, clutching your stomach and still laughing.

“You’re so mean!” Mark yells, crawling over to you and climbing on you. “I hate you, go away!”

You try to roll away from under him but Mark pulls you back and, somehow, you two end up wrestling on the dirty roof, getting dust and who knows what else all over your clothes.

“I concede!” You finally give up, tapping your cap on the floor when Mark has you pinned down underneath him. You feel like you don’t have a single breath in your body and you’re sure your face is bright red. And not just from exhaustion.

“What kind of monster are you, fighting a sickly person?” You pant as Mark helps you up.

“You started it,” is all Mark says before ruffling your hair.

When you settle down, you smile at the ferris wheel.

“I missed that guy,” you say, pointing at the large, circular structure.

“He missed you too,” Mark ruffles your hair again.

You swat his hand away. “You have got to stop doing that,” you warn, giving Mark the most threatening glare you can create.

In response, Mark does it again. “You’re cute,” he laughs when you scream.

—

One day, Mark shows up to your door unannounced with two tubs of ice cream. One cookies and cream and one brambleberry crisp.

“Today was my last day at the hospital,” he tells you, as he searches through your kitchen for two spoons.

You walk over to help him, asking, “Why? Did you get tired of it?”

“Of course not!” Mark gasps. “I just won’t have time to go every day now because school is about to start.”

Oh yeah, school. You forgot that was even a thing. The last time you had gone to school was the day you fainted in front of everyone in the cafeteria.

“So,” you start, handing Mark a spoon and leading the way to your room. “You’re probably going to be really busy, right?”

Mark’s dimple shows. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll still come visit.”

“I wasn’t worried!” You quickly protest but you don’t bother hiding the huge grin that spreads over your face.

—

“You know,” Donghyuck says, lying with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish on your bed. “I’m worried Mark is going to steal you from me.”

You snort, shoving Donghyuck off your bed. “You’re the one who never visits anymore.”

“You know that’s because my family is always taking me to places I don’t want to go!”

“Yes, yes,” you rub your temples. “Now, will you please stop screaming, you’re giving me a headache.”

“Sorry,” Donghyuck whines, climbing back on your bed, this time pulling you with him. “Go to sleep, babe,” he coos, snuggling into your chest.

Donghyuck ends up falling asleep first, your headache keeping you awake. You think about how you really do spend a lot more time with Mark than Donghyuck. But Mark won’t steal you away from your best friend.

Hanging out with Mark is different than hanging out with Donghyuck, or any of your other friends for that matter. Whenever you’re with Mark, you just feel

different.

You never really feels great, health wise, but two weeks after your last checkup, you’re at an all time low. You haven’t done anything all week but you’re still tired. You’re still only eating Dr. Park approved food but your stomach hurts. You’re sleeping well and haven’t been exposed to any loud noises, not even Donghyuck, but your head hurts.

On top of all that, Mark and Donghyuck both started going back to school, so you don’t have anyone to help cheer you up or distract you either. All in all, you feel sickly and weak and just awful.

You mope around the house, complain to your mom as soon as she gets home and send your two best friends lots of sad texts on a daily basis. Donghyuck usually replies with some nonsense only he understands and Mark doesn’t even reply, which only makes you feel worse.

“Aw, is your boyfriend ignoring you?” Donghyuck teases you whenever you complain about Mark’s silence.

“Shut up,” is always your clever retort.

—

Your moping has risen to a max by Saturday. It’s the weekend, which means Donghyuck and Mark don’t have school but they still can’t visit you because Donghyuck has to go to a family get together at his grandmother’s and Mark is still missing.

By Saturday afternoon, you just want to crawl into a little ball and sob. Why do you only have two friends? Why does your mom work on weekends? Why are you too sick to go to school? Why are you so desperate for human interaction that you want to go to school?

So many questions and no answers.

Frustrated to the point of insanity, you yell, “Shut the fuck up, will you?” At your phone when it starts ringing. You think about chucking it out your bedroom window until you see who’s calling.

Mark •̀ᴗ•́

You scramble to pick it up, almost actually throwing it out the window in the process.

“Mark!” You yell. “Where were you?”

Mark laughs, “Missed me?”

“You wish,” you spit, it’s not like Mark can see you’re smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

“Are you free right now?”

“No, I'm very expensive.”

“That sounds like something Donghyuck would say,” Mark groans. “Just answer the question, will you?”

“Yes, I'm free. Why? Are you coming over?” You’re already excited. So much so that even your headache goes away.

“Yeah, and I'm taking you out so put on some decent clothes. No pajamas.”

“Out?” You inquire. “Out where?”

“It’s a secret. See you in ten,” Mark says before hanging up.

Your mind is a complete mess but you somehow manage to make yourself look presentable by the time Mark rings the doorbell.

Mark doesn’t even give you time to say hi, pulling you out the door as soon as you open it. “Lock it, fast. We have somewhere to be!” He says, jumping up and down.

“Calm down,” you laugh, closing the door. “So, where are we headed?” You ask once you’ve checked, and Mark’s double checked, that the door is locked and you can finally leave.

“It’s a surprise,” is all Mark says.

Mark tries to blindfold you but you refuse right away. “People are going to think we’re some kinky couple, Mark,” you hiss, shoving the blindfold Mark handed to you in your pocket.

“But how will you be surprised if we know where we’re going?” Mark frowns.

You sigh,“How about I close my eyes?”

“Okay!” Mark looks satisfied. “But you have to keep them closed the whole two bus rides there, okay? No peeking?”

“Two bus rides?” You nearly shout. Mark nods excitedly and you have no choice but to sigh again and mumble, “Fine.”

Agreeing to keep your eyes closed may not have been a bad idea, you think as Mark helps you off the second bus with a tight grasp on your hand. Mark held your hand the entire time. Even while you both were just sitting still inside the buses.

You kept your promise and didn’t peek, partly because you wanted to be surprised as much as Mark wanted to surprise you, but also because you didn’t want to see the disapproving looks you knew strangers were giving towards you and Mark.

“Okay,” Mark says, after what feels like an hour but was probably just a few minutes of walking. “You can open your eyes now!”

At first you have no idea what you’re looking at. All you see are a bunch of gears and metal rods. Then Mark lifts your head a little bit and you realize you’re standing in front of a ferris wheel. The same ferris wheel you and Mark used to look at every day from the roof.

You’re touched.

“Mark,” you say, prying your eyes away from the wheel and looking at him. You don’t know what to say but Mark saves you from having to come up with anything.

“You’re welcome. Now come on!”

You ride the ferris wheel four times together—even though it actually isn’t all that exciting—just because you want to and you can. You still feels overwhelmed as Mark takes you around to all the food stalls lined under the wheel.

Even as fatigue starts to make you a bit wobbly, you don't want to leave. You’re filled with so many feelings towards Mark you can’t think straight. You look closely at Mark’s face as he’s shoving some corn into his mouth and talking about all the types of barn animals he’s met.

Mark has a really nice face. It’s smooth and clear and houses that wonderful dimple. You just can’t get over how cute that dimple is. You just want to poke it. It’s so tiny and charming and right next to Mark’s lips. Mark’s lips are really nice too. They’re full and pink and, even though his bottom lip has a bit of corn on it at the moment, they’re perfect.

You wonder what it would feel like to kiss his lips. Your head spins a little at the thought. Maybe you should try it. If Mark doesn’t kiss you back, you can just pass it off as a joke.

“Mark,” you say, still staring at his lips.

Wait, why does Mark have four lips all of a sudden? Aren’t people supposed to have two? Or is it one? What’s the average number of lips on a person?

“Are you okay?” You faintly hear Mark ask, his four lips getting closer. If Mark’s lips are so close, why does his voice sound so far away?

You’re about to call Mark’s name again and ask why everything feels so weird but before you can even open your mouth, everything goes dark.

—

The first thing you find out when you wake up is that your tumor is back. It’s regrowing, and at an abnormally fast rate.

After crying for nearly an hour, you call Mark to apologize for fainting on him in the middle of a public space at almost ten o’clock at night, but Mark doesn’t even let you get the words out of your mouth.

“You’re up?” He screams into the phone, making you wince. “Why didn’t anyone call me?”

“Calm down, Drama Queen,” you smile. “I'm calling you now.”

Mark seems to know why you called him because whenever you get close to apologizing, he says, “Don’t you dare,” and changes the subject.

Your first surgery had been scary but the second one is even scarier. You hear Dr. Park telling your mom that your chances of survival have gone down, that it’s a fairly simple surgery but the fact that your cancer cells have started regrowing at an alarmingly fast rate could mean you might not wake up.

Your mom holds your hand the entire night before the surgery, squeezing it so tight, you lose all feeling in it.

Even though they have school, Donghyuck and Mark come to see you before you’re wheeled in. You wish everyone would stop looking at you like you’re about to die. Well, you are about to die but you don’t appreciate the looks.

“Stay with us,” Dr. Park tells you before sticking a needle in your skin.

You blink a few times before you can’t open your eyes anymore and, for the second time that week, everything goes dark.

—

This time when you wake up, the first thing you find out is that the surgery went well, but you’re still very sick. No one needs to tell you for you to know that. You can feel how sick you are when you try to move or speak or even think.

Donghyuck and Mark still visit but they visit a lot less because of school. You’re actually glad your friends can’t visit you often. You don’t want them to see you like this.

Somehow, things start to get even worse after that. Everything hurts. You can barely think, your mind is constantly screaming, your ears are constantly ringing. It hurts to open your eyes, it hurts to breathe. It hurts to be alive.

You lose the ability to eat without the help of a tube, and Mark starts visiting you every day. You know Mark has school but still doesn’t question why he drops by every day. You never have the energy to entertain Mark, so you just stare at the ceiling and listen to Mark quietly play familiar tunes or softly tell you how his day was.

You want to be able to give Mark your full attention, you want to be able to reply to Mark’s questions or laugh at his bad jokes, you want to be able to ask Mark why he still doesn’t go home until late at night. You want to be able to be close to Mark without constantly having your thoughts drift off to how tired you feel and how pathetic you are and how much everything hurts.

You’re tired. You’re tired and you just want this to end.

You look at Mark as he plays with the strings of his guitar on the chair next to your bed. You think about the ferris wheel and how happy Mark made you the day he took you there.

“I wanted to kiss you,” you speak for the first time in days.

Mark immediately stops what he was doing and stares at you, eyes impossibly wide.

“What?” He whispers.

“At the ferris wheel,” you clarify. Your voice is rough and scratchy. It doesn’t sound like your voice at all.

“You wanted to kiss me?” Mark looks stunned.

“Yes. Even though you had corn on your mouth.”

“Why?”

Mark doesn’t see you rolling your eyes. “Because I like you, silly.”

There’s a moment of silence and you’re too tired to even feel embarrassed about your impromptu confession.

But then Mark kisses you.

“What was that for?” You squeak, your voice the loudest it’s been in the past month.

Mark smiles, but it’s not one of his normal smiles. It’s not happy and sweet and there’s no dimple in sight. “I thought you said you wanted to kiss me.”

You sigh, “Mark, you didn’t have to do that just because you feel sorry for me. I know I may look like it but I'm not some charity case.”

“No!” Mark says loudly enough to make your ears start ringing. “I didn’t kiss you because you’re sick, I kissed you because I like you too.”

You're not sure if you believe him but even so, you ask Mark, “Then can you kiss me again?”

And Mark does, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

And for a moment, you don’t feel like you’re dying. You don't feel like you’re sitting on a hospital bed, losing your brain to cancer.

You feel like a normal person kissing the boy you like until neither of you can breathe.

Mark’s lips are soft and warm and sweet. They feel perfect pressed against your cold, dry ones. You think it must not be very pleasant, kissing your weak, dying lips but Mark doesn’t seem to mind, kissing your breath away at any given opportunity. It probably isn’t good for your health, being breathless so often.

But death by kisses sounds like a nice way to go.

—

Your condition is not getting better. Even though your love life is suddenly thriving, your body cannot seem to do the same.

You have conflicting thoughts. You want to feel better and fight for your mother, your friends, your boyfriend, and yourself. But it’s so hard. You just want it to end. You want to give up.

You start sobbing one day. It’s never going to end. You’re never going to feel better. There’s no point in even trying anymore.

Mark holds you and comforts you, or at least tries to, but you’re already hysterical. You hear Taeyong run into the room after you scream, “Just make it stop! Please!”

Mark is holding your hand, and playing with your fingers. He occasionally brings them up to his lips and presses tiny kisses on them.

He’s so handsome and kind and caring. He’s perfect. And he deserves so much better than this.

“Mark,” you whisper so softly you’re not even sure Mark can hear you.

But he does and looks up at you with a soft smile. “Hey, how long have you been up?”

“A while,” you try to smile back. “I’m sorry Mark.”

Mark frowns and you want to scream at him to bring the smile back. “Hey,” he brings your hand back up to his lips. “Please stop apologizing. None of this is your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, smiling slightly when Mark narrows his eyes at you. “It’s just that you deserve someone who can do things with you and for you, someone who doesn’t constantly worry you, someone you can grow old with and have little mini Marks with. Not someone who… could drop dead any second.”

“Stop that!” Mark says sharply, surprising you by how angry he looks. His face softens and he sighs. “You are that person, okay? You are not going to,” he sucks in a breath, “die anytime soon, do you hear me? You are not allowed to come into my life and make me fall in love with you and just leave.”

“Mark,” you start but Mark hushes you. He squeezes your hand and looks straight into your eyes.

“You are going to get through this. We are going to get through this. Just, please don’t give up.”

You don’t tell him you already have.

—

July is coming to an end and you’ve never felt worse. You can’t do anything but try not to scream in pain every waking moment of every day.

You’re lying down with your eyes clenched shut and your mother rubbing your arm. You vaguely register Dr. Park telling her they can do another surgery. She’s saying the same things she said before the last one. “It’s extremely risky but this time, I believe we’ll be able to get rid of it once and for all.”

“Once and for all?” You say through gritted teeth. Your mother yelps, probably because she thought you’d been asleep.

Dr. Park also looks surprised to see that you’re awake. “Uh, yes, but I must tell you, you, this procedure is more high-risk than the other ones we’ve done.” She looks back at your mom, “There’s a higher chance you might not wake up.”

“But if I do,” you look at both your doctor and your mom with pleading eyes. “It will be gone, right?”

“Most likely, but—”

“I know it might come back later but it also might be completely gone, right?”

“Yes,” Dr. Park looks at you with concern.

“Please, mom,” you start begging. “Please, this might just be the end of all this. Please.”

Your mother is reluctant but you keep pleading. You’re determined to make it through this.

Your surgery is scheduled for August 1, which means you’ll probably miss Mark’s birthday. This leaves you in a grumpy mood the entire day.

Before you’re wheeled into the operating room, your mom gives you a tight hug, getting your chest wet with her tears. Donghyuck also hugs you and makes you promise not to die.

You turn to Mark when Donghyuck finally lets go.

“Mark,” you start but Mark stops you.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re going to say, probably ‘I love you’ or something like that, but you’re saying it like it’s goodbye and I don’t want to hear it.”

You smile weakly.

“You can tell me when you come out,” Mark crosses his arms.

“I’ll try to be out in time for your birthday.”

You know the clock is ticking and it’s almost time for you to go in. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you want to do something, just in case things don’t go well.

“Kiss me?” You ask Mark.

Mark smiles, his tiny dimple still so blinding to you, and then he kisses you. It’s still the best feeling in the world.

You’re smiling when Mark pulls away, whispering, “I’ll be waiting.”

You think about the kiss when a deep voice says, “We’re putting you under now. Stay with us, okay?”

Then everything goes dark.

But this time, everything stays dark.

#nct imagines #nct angst #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 angst #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark lee fanfic #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #mark lee

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sylvianancy88 · 4 years ago

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47 Best Gifts for Boaters They’ll Actually Love

If you have sailors among your family or friends, you will know how crazy these people are about their hobbies. For these boaters, what would be a better gift than sailing-related gifts?

But now you may be wondering which sailor type gift you should choose? If you do not have much experience with sailing itself, this task may be difficult.

But do not worry my friend, here I have is an article for you filled with a brilliant list of best gift ideas for boaters that related to sailing, and your boater enthusiast friend would be thrilled to have.

I hereby present to you this inspirational list of ideas featuring the best gifts for boaters. It doesn’t matter if your friend is a wannabe sailor or an experienced one, maybe they have just started sailing, this article has gift ideas for all of them.

Trust me when I say, all the products listed underneath will make your boater friend very happy and they would appreciate you even more. Let’s see if we can get you the perfect boating gift for your sailor friend.

What Would be a Better Gift for this Particular Boater?

While looking for a gift, this is something you need to ask yourself first. There are many kinds of boaters out there. You need to figure out what kind of a boater your friend is at first. What kind of a sailor are they?

Do they sail only on warmer climates? Then maybe don’t give them cold-weather wear such as woolen socks or thermal jacket.

Are they into sailing but don’t like to be an active crew member? Maybe they just don’t feel comfortable in the role of a crew, and they just want to relax. Then get them something fun and relaxing, like a board game or a book, instead of let’s say a sailing knife.

In any case, simply trust your instincts, because at the end of the day, you are the one who knows this better. And they would definitely appreciate your gift.

Best Gift Ideas for Boaters with Different Categories

Clothing Gifts for Boaters

1. Sailing Gloves

For boaters who like to be active crew members and do any kind of deck works, sailing gloves are a perfect gift. When steering the steering wheel, lifting the sails or maintaining the deck, even in bad weather conditions, the correct sailing gloves can keep your hands warm.

2. Sailing Shoes

When the weather starts to affect the crew, the sailors like to show an elegant and stylish appearance, just like on the old marine postcards. Traditional leather sailing boots are one of the best fashions and are also very practical.

3. Warm Socks

When paired with rubber boots, always wear thick warm socks. Preferably, two or three pairs at a time. As I said before, in difficult and stormy sailing, warm feet can maintain a noble morality. If you want to buy a pair as a gift for sailors, please pay attention to the materials.

Sometimes, socks may look warm, but if they are mainly made of synthetic materials such as polyester, it will only cause the feet to sweat. Therefore, look for materials that are naturally warm, such as merino wool. It guarantees warm comfort.

4. Sailing Jacket

For sailors, another basic wardrobe element is a high-quality sailing jacket. Usually, this is the first large investment in this hobby. In general, we can distinguish sailing jackets by waterproofing:

One that keeps the sailor’s body dry in light rain, and occasionally splashes time at sea is shorter; and another one that Keeps your body dry in harsh weather conditions, such as continuous rain and regular splashing for everyday occasional sailing, a lightweight waterproof jacket will be a perfect choice.

5. Rubber Sailing Boots

High-strength rubber boots are life-saving during heavy rain and cold weather of the sea. They help keep the sailor’s feet dry while on duty on deck. Every boater knows that there is nothing worse than wet and cold socks.

When buying rubber boots as a sailing gift, please pay attention to the sole, it should have good adhesion to ensure balance when walking on the wet deck.

6. Thermal Underwear

You should not underestimate the significance of thermal underwear as a practical gift for your boater friend. People sailing in non-tropical climates will definitely enjoy this significantly.

Also, look for durable materials with proven efficiency. Merino wool is great for keeping your body warm. Comfortable and practical underwear is essential equipment for every sailor.

Packaging Gifts for Boaters

7. Compression Packing Cubes

Packing luggage for navigation is a difficult task that requires a high degree of organization. You can help your sailor friend do this by helping with his compressed packaging cube.

After filling such a cube with clothes, zip it once to close it. Then remove it with a zipper a second time to remove all unnecessary air and make the package as thin as possible.

This simple technique helps to pack all the required clothing layers in bags of any size.

8. Laundry Wash Bag

After a few days of sailing, there is nothing better than being smelly. On long journeys, sailors have limited opportunities to wash clothes.

Especially when they are sailing in areas where less popular terminal infrastructures are not yet available. In this case, a wash bag is a perfect solution.

These are pocket-sized portable laundry bag, and they are a life-saving item for washing clothes on the go. Just put the dirty clothes in, add some water and washing powder, then close and scrub.

Perfect help for the inoperable washing machine.

9. Waterproof Backpack

The right backpack is one of the most important parts of a sailor’s equipment. Due to the lack of space on yachts, they should be flexible enough to be stored in a small cabin. When choosing a backpack as a boating gift, please pay attention to the particularity of the boat.

The backpack should be waterproof, without a fixed shelf, and equipped with a practical pocket to easily organize internal items. The washing machine cannot be used to wash this though.

10. Dry Bag

Instead of professional sailing backpacks, large dry bags may be a cheaper option. But it is more suitable for short voyages. Although, small dry bags are ideal for storing smaller items such as electronics and documents.

Compared with standard backpacks, smartphones, cameras, passports, and wallets have much better moisture resistance in dry bags. This is very useful equipment for short trips on small sailboats (especially without cabins).

11. Waterproof Watch

Another good item to wear on-board is a waterproof watch. Many people cannot imagine a day without a watch, so why must a day on a yacht be different? If the watch is waterproof, sailors can soak it without looking after it.

Therefore, this small object will become a companion for sailing, helping you to count the time until the end of duty.

12. Sunglass

We can assume that sunglasses are another must-have equipment on board. It protects the eyes from the harsh sunlight reflected by the sea water. However, when water drops splash from the board, it also helps the sailor to open his eyes.

When you buy sunglasses for sailors, one of the most important tips for you is to choose a floatable model. In case of a fall, there is at least an opportunity to drag them up.

Entertaining Gifts for Boaters

13. Board Games

Board games are always a fan favorite. Who doesn’t like to play a cool board game to pass the time? And especially while sailing on a boat, there might be some quiet days where one would just love to play a board game. You never know.

14. Sailor’s Journal

On the other hand, some people like to spend time alone. It is a very intimate moment to think about the surrounding environment on a boat in the water. In this case, many people like to write down their ideas.

So, what are you waiting for? Get an ocean-inspired diary for your boater friend.

15. Ukulele/Guitar

Surprisingly, a lot of sailors can play musical instruments. But when you imagine the tranquil ocean around you and the warm sunlight above your head, this is completely understandable. The song falls on your mouth without asking. A ukulele or a guitar is a perfect sailing gift for a music cruiser.

Gadgets as Gift for Boaters

16. Waterproof Bluetooth Speaker

However, if you don’t believe in buying a real instrument, then waterproof Bluetooth speakers will also play an excellent role in cruise entertainment. The music in the happy hour on the sailing boat may play an important role.

Be sure to purchase a waterproof speaker to keep it safe from occasional splashes of water. If it can hang it safely on the deck, it can add points.

17. Mini Movie Projector

For the movie fanatics, a miniature movie projector will be an interesting gift for sailing. Sometimes sailors spend hours or even days on the pier. Watching their favorite movies is a good way to wait for the right time to leave the port.

18. Mobile Hot Spot

In many parts of the world, the marine terminals are still not equipped with Wi-Fi. For this situation, it is a good idea to have your own SIM card and wireless hotspot. Elevated hotspots allow access to 4G/LTE networks, high-speed data, and battery operation.

19. Action Cam

For people who like to keep vivid memories on the road, professional action cams are a good idea in other sailing gifts. Action cams can be easily installed in different positions on the ship to capture any kind of extreme scenes. When sitting on the sofa and watching the record safely, you will think of exciting spikes of adrenaline.

20. Drone

If you want to bring more fun to the sailor, please give them a drone. Flying with this toy can take the sailing experience to the next level. Capturing good times is a good way to capture sailing from the sky.

21. Solar Charger

Stable electricity is a major problem on small boats. This is why solar chargers are the perfect gift for boats that like to travel shorter distances without an engine generator. When purchasing this device, please pay attention to its portability, efficiency, and water resistance.

22. Power Bank

Similar to the charger, the mobile power supply can provide useful help when there is no electricity in long transportation time. It helps to charge the battery of the mobile phone so that the sailor can maintain stable contact with family and friends.

Education Related Gift for Boaters

23. Kindle and Audible Books

Under the conditions of the sea, it is great entertainment to spend a quiet moment on the boat, reading or listening to books. Kindle e-readers or audible books are ideal gifts for shipping because they help to spend time on board in a more meaningful way.

24. Online Courses on Sailing

If the person you are looking for a gift intends to grow into a sailor, then education may be a perfect nautical gift idea. On the Internet, you will find some interesting online sailing courses, which may be helpful for learning new skills. You will find courses on navigation, electronic systems on board, etc. here.

Boat Accessories as Gifts for Boaters

25. Hammock

After a difficult voyage, finding a calm bay in the rough water is a wonderful moment for the sailors. With the help of ultra-light and compact hammocks, the coolness among the trees near Paradise Beach created the moment we depend on for survival.

If you decide to buy a travel hammock, please note its size to make it small enough to fit the sailing package.

26. Charts

The chart is a friend of any senior sailor. If you want to give someone a plan to travel to distant waters, a chart is an ideal marine gift. They help sailors keep a safe track and swim peacefully from one port to another.

27. Thermos Bottle

Nothing tastes better than the sweetness of the black tea brought to the helmsman by another crew member. Ideally, if this tea can keep warm for a long time.

At this moment, a high-quality thermos will help. Just pay attention to the time to keep the high temperature of such bottles, the time to drink easily, and the quality of the materials.

28. Satellite Communicator

Safety is the most important thing at sea. Stable communication is one of its main conditions. One of the best gifts for ship delivery may be a tested satellite communicator.

These clever devices allow the crew to send and receive text messages through the satellite system. In this way, they can keep in touch with family and friends.

With the correct subscription, it can also access weather forecasts and navigation maps.

29. Travel Coffee Bottle

For coffee lovers, there is no better sailor gift than a travel coffee machine. With this clever thing, sailors can enjoy the taste of fresh coffee almost anywhere. Even in the ocean.

30. Waterproof Binoculars

The waterproof marine binoculars are the perfect sailor gift for two reasons. First, they help the crew to really pay attention to the dangers at sea. Using binoculars makes it easier to analyze rocks, shoals, small navigation route signs or other ships above sea level.

31. Headlamp

Bright headlights make the unexpected work on the deck at night much easier. This simple device is also useful for playing peaceful nights with friends in the wild bay, playing guitar, and having fun.

32. Waterproof Phone Case

This is a great gift idea for rowers who only sail occasionally and are not very advanced in this sport. The waterproof phone case is a perfect sailing gift, ensuring that all smartphones are safe on board. With it, the splash of water will not be scary, and even on rainy days, sailors can use mobile phones.

33. Sailor’s Knife

A solid knife is a practical tool on board. It is mainly used to cut the rope when needed, but it also does a good job when opening food cans. Knives with nails are particularly useful. This thick needle unwinds the tangled rope well.

Boating Gifts for Your Male Friends

34. Sailor’s Tie

This is a gift for sailors, for those who like to have a connection with sailing ships even on official occasions. The exquisite sailing pattern silk tie will definitely be appreciated by elegant sailors. I also recommend choosing silk instead of synthetic materials to make a high-quality wardrobe.

35. Nautical Cufflinks

These are gifts that will subtly remind you of your passion for sailing. The classic cufflinks with marine motifs are original marine gifts for fathers or boyfriends. 36.

36. Sailing Bracelet

If your sailor friend prefers casual accessories, the sailing bracelet is the perfect example of a boating gift for him. This simple decoration will assign him to the elite club of dedicated amateurs.

Boating Gifts for Your Female Friends

37. Boating themed Jewellery

Many women like beautiful jewelry. Any sailor woman likes more jewelry with a sailing theme! You can find various masterpieces of sailing jewelry by local artists online. These trinkets are a gift for her beautiful sailing boat.

38. Sailing Scarf

The scarf is a useful wardrobe, and the sailing scarf is a great item to remind the sailor of her enthusiasm. Silk, cotton or viscose scarves are good nautical gifts.

39. Waterproof Toiletries Bag

A waterproof makeup bag may be the perfect gift for your sailing girlfriend. Here is a tip: choose a waterproof version.

Personalized Gifts for Boaters

40. Customized Engraved Compass

Personalized nautical compass is a personalized nautical gift, but also a very symbolic gift. Not only is it a good decoration, but the engraved text will remind the sailor of home and the people waiting for him to return. This is a sailor’s gift that melts the heart.

41. Personalized Captain’s Hat

Here, we have one of the sailors’ most interesting gifts. The personalized captain’s hat is a good ship gift for your father or any other strong leader among your sailing friends. Of course, this helps to maintain the correct level and discipline on the ship.

Cool and Funny Boating Gifts

42. Ocean’s Bracelet

This bracelet may not be spectacular, but it is definitely important. 4Ocean is a company that rids the ocean from plastic pollution. The rubbish they dragged from the water was treated as a bracelet.

The sales revenue of these bracelets is used to pay for the company’s operating costs. You can learn more about them here. It’ll be a perfect gift for someone who cares about the ocean.

43. Sailing Themed T-Shirt

T-shirts with funny quotes are also great gifts for rowers. Sailors usually like to show their commitment to this hobby, so a T-shirt with funny sailing texts would be perfect.

44. Sailor’s Cup

Just like T-shirts, funny cups are popular gifts for everyone. You can find a lot of funny cups in online shops.

45. Wooden Toy Boat

If you are looking for a gift for a rower, then a wooden toy boat may be a surprising idea. But I’m sure it will melt the heart of any sailing enthusiast, and will proudly stand above the fireplace or on the desk.

46. Boat Adventure Saving Jar

Another cool personal gift for sailors is a jar that saves sailing adventures. You can browse Etsy by yourself or find a beautiful ready-made jar in it. This gift will definitely inspire the sailor to save some money for the next adventure. Who knows, even a boat?

47. Sailing Trip

What better gift for a sailor than the adventure itself? Get them a sailing trip and make them the happiest person on earth, they literally will be.

It might be a daunting task, picking a gift for someone you care about, but don’t share interests with. Articles like this feel like a lifesaver on those times, or at least I’d like to think that they do.

Pick a gift that seems to suit your boater friend’s style and make both yourself and your friend happy.

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#Boaters #wordpress

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gwentoryfics · 6 years ago

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Hot for Teacher, Part 2.

REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTORY.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Hongseok x Reader x Hyunggu (Kino)

Words | 12k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Swearing. Needlessly sexist and traditional parents. Plenty of angst to go around. Explicit smut. Fingering. Oral (female receiving). Playlist includes songs with explicit lyrics.

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • More Coming Soon AO3 | 1 • 2

Playlist | Spotify • Youtube

Note | Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, my little peaches! Thank you for all of your kind words regarding this series, and thank you for your patience as I worked to put this together. Lots of life changes happened in the last few months, including moving to another state and adopting a pup (who is yet to be housebroken). I’ve been very busy, but I’m thrilled to finally update! Oh, and pro tip: I will only ever post fics & asks on this blog, so please feel free to turn on notifications to make sure you don’t miss Part 3!

On Monday night, you get to R&B Ensemble rehearsal ten minutes early to make sure you have time to warm up a bit on your own. A handful of students are already in the room, and you spot Kino chatting with a girl, whom you assume to be another vocalist. He waves as you walk by, and you wave back. Boy, he's got cheekbones for days.

Tucked back by the keyboard is the bassist with his long limbs and brooding aura, a face that is somewhat familiar to you - you can't quite place it, though. He has a sharp jawline and mussed up hair, a leather jacket thrown over the back of his chair. He fiddles with his amp before plucking out a funky bass groove, completely in his own world.

You walk in his direction, heading for the keyboard and shooting out a simple greeting as you take your seat. "Hey."

He glances up, nodding once in response before returning his attention to his instrument. He must not be much of a talker, which is fine by you. You flip on the keyboard and begin cycling through scales and modes to get your fingers warm, sure to keep the volume low so as not to disturb your new bandmates. As you move onto some arpeggiated jazz chords, you notice a tall, loud presence burst in through the door.

"Ayyyyy!" Wooseok Jung calls out, startling the poor girl that had entered right in front of him. He drops his headphones so they hang around his neck, and he chucks his drumsticks right past you, where one hits the sound-proofed wall and the other bounces off the bassist's chest with a dull thud.

"Damn it, Wooseok, you piece of shit." The bassist hurls the stick right back at him, and Wooseok catches it effortlessly.

"My man, Yuto. I didn't know you were in on this." Wooseok traipses over to your corner of the room, goofy grin on his face. He holds a fist out for you to pound. "Hey girl, what's up."

"Hey, good to see you." You bump fists. You had a class with Wooseok last year - first level aural skills - and although you wouldn't exactly call him a friend, it seems you both remember each other.

"Have a good summer?" He asks you as he takes a seat at the drum kit, sticks spinning between his fingers. You may never know how he fits all of that leg behind the drums.

You nod. "I worked all summer at the record store in my hometown, and that was a blast. Did a couple gigs at some open mics, too. You?"

"Ah, nice!" Wooseok clicks the sticks against the rim of the snare drum. Come to think of it, you haven't realized until today that he's a drummer. It makes sense, though, considering the fact that he was always tapping rhythms on the desk in your previous class. "I was up here taking summer classes. I tell you what, music theory is not my friend. I can't read clefs for shit. Give me the most intricate rhythms you can find and I can handle that, no problem. But give me a set of pitches and a marimba and I'm lost. I don't know how you do it."

You laugh with a short shrug, dramatically tossing your hair over your shoulder. "Just my natural talent, I guess."

A grin splits across Wooseok's face, cute and genuine. "Well aren't you a lucky little duck." The warmth of his smile makes you blush, and you have to look away from him.

He’s right, though; you definitely got lucky with your musical skills. Your parents started you in piano lessons at a young age, so you started reading music right around the same time you started reading words. It's second nature to you now.

A thought occurs to you, and you meet his eyes again. "You know, I could help you with theory if you want."

"Really?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Dude, you would be a lifesaver. That would be awesome." Wooseok breathes a sigh of relief. "And in exchange, I can… teach you about drumming or something, I don’t know. I’ll owe you. Whatever you want."

Sounds fair to you. You give him a sharp nod. "Deal."

"Deal," he agrees, shooting you another brief smile before turning to Yuto. “Yo, Yuto. Throw down a line. Let’s jam.”

"Throw down a line?" Yuto immediately questions Wooseok's choice of words, eyeing the drummer critically.

"Yeah, a bass line. Hit me with it."

"Who talks like that?" Yuto mumbles the question rhetorically and starts plucking out a groove. Once his rhythm and tempo is established, Wooseok comes in with a simple drumbeat to keep it moving.

You don't know much about bass, but you know the pitch of the strings and you understand that each fret marks a half step (thank you, music theory). It takes you a minute, but you’re able to determine that he's in the key of D. You start plunking out some chords until you fall into the pocket of the groove, finally finding the correct chord progression.

"What key?" A girl on the other side of the room asks, slipping the strap of her electric guitar over her shoulder.

You start calling out chord names as you work through the progression until it seems she's got the hang of it, and then you improvise, letting your fingers follow the melodies in your head.

This is it. This is your absolute most favorite thing in the whole world. Surrounding yourself in music, collaborating and creating, expressing your spirit through the piano- er, keyboard. Riding the waves of jazz and soul and R&B gives joy to your life in a way that nothing else can. This feeling is what you live for.

Mid-jam, the teacher comes strolling in, and she grooves the whole way from the door to the front of the room, looking absolutely elated at the impromptu music you’ve all created. Wooseok calls out a five, six, seven, and... to signal everyone to stop at the end of the phrase, and the teacher claps a little too enthusiastically.

"Oh. My goodness." She beams. "I think this is going to be a fabulous semester."

After rehearsal, you catch up to Kino as he tucks his sheet music into his backpack. The long hair on top of his head falls in his eyes, but it could never hide those cheekbones.

"I had no idea you could sing like that. That Bruno song is perfect for you!" You stand next to him, and he looks up from his seat with a wide smile. You mean every word; his voice absolutely blew you away. He especially stands out in the group because he's the only male vocalist this semester, but there's something special about the quality of his voice that gives you goosebumps when he sings.

"Thank you! I'm really excited about it. I love Bruno Mars." He grins, glowing. "And what about you? It's like the keys are part of your soul. You're really freaking good, you know that?"

"Thank you, Hyunggu." You emphasize his birth name, which the teacher had brought to your attention during roll call.

Kino rolls his eyes, smile suddenly gone from his lips. "I don't like that name."

"Sorry," you laugh quietly. "Why Kino, then? If you don't mind me asking."

"I picked it for myself. It's like... a stage name." He stands, gathering his things. "I kind of wanted a fresh start for college, so I'm reinventing myself, I guess."

"I can respect that." As the two of you head for the door, you turn back over your shoulder and call out to the friendly giant to confirm the plans you had made. "Wooseok, see you Thursday, yeah?"

The tall drummer points his sticks at you, shooting another charming smile your way. "Thursday."

When you're out of the room, Kino asks, "Are you friends with him?"

"Not exactly? I'm going to tutor him in music theory."

Kino hums quietly. "He seems like a handful."

"He does, doesn't he," you laugh. "We'll see how it goes."

The two of you wave goodnight to the security guard in the lobby of the music building before heading out into the illuminated city. A slow smile touches your lips as you look around.

Moving here for university has been one of the biggest adventures of your life. Up until you began school last year, you had never spent much time in such a large city. It’s clear to you now that this is where you’re meant to be; the city energizes you, awakens your senses, and opens up creative doorways you never realized existed. You’ve never felt so true to yourself, so connected to your surroundings.

Everything here had been so perfect until Professor Yang showed up. You feel your smile fade. If he taught at literally any other university, it would be no problem at all. You could look back fondly on your night together instead of labeling it The Biggest Mistake Of Your Life.

There’s really no point in getting worked up about it, though. Maybe it won’t be a big deal after all. Maybe you’ll talk to him tomorrow, just like Minseo wants you to, and it’ll all be fine. Or you could just ignore each other the whole semester - that might work. You’ll just silently drool over him from your spot at the back of the classroom, trying not to be distracted by the naked memory of him while you take notes. If only he hadn’t been your professor…

If you had crossed paths again under any other circumstances, you would undoubtedly chase down the chance to sleep with him again. Although you are skeptical of your ability to seduce him while sober, you want nothing more than to relive that night with him over and over. Hell, you might even go on a proper date with him, if he asked you.

The thought makes your cheeks burn. You’ve got it bad.

In the end, it’s all just a fantasy. You’ll never sleep with him again, you’ll never go on a date. He’s your professor, and you are his student. Even if you weren’t taking his class, it would be inappropriate to be involved in any sort of romantic capacity. There’s no way that you can be together, and that’s that.

You hate that you actually feel sad about it.

“Whoa!” Kino’s hand grabs your elbow, yanking you back onto the sidewalk as you start to cross the street, too distracted to notice the oncoming traffic. “Be careful!”

You’re snapped back into the present, watching as a taxi flies by. It would have easily taken you out if you had continued walking. You really need to stop thinking about Professor Yang before you get yourself hurt.

“Are you alright?” Kino’s voice is tight with concern as he holds onto your arm.

You force your smile. “Yeah, sorry. I was just in my head about some things. I promise I’m not usually so distracted while walking.”

His hand lingers on your arm for a moment as he scans your face, and the corner of his mouth lifts as he lets you go. “I sure hope you’re not or you’re going to be in trouble without me around.”

The light changes, and you both safely step into the crosswalk. “But you know, if I got hit by a car, I could probably sue for enough money to cover my student loans,” you joke.

“Only if the driver is at fault,” Kino is quick to correct you. “If you’re the one that causes the accident, you can’t get any money from it. But nice try.”

“Damn. There’s never an easy solution.”

“Truth.” He chuckles. “Maybe we should have gone to business school or medical school to get a degree that would actually give us financial security.”

With a groan, you roll your eyes. That sentiment is all too familiar. “You sound like my parents.”

“Mine, too.” Kino sighed. “They wanted me to be a doctor. Yours?”

“Secretary to a CEO. What kind of sexist bullshit is that?” You frown. “My family is very traditional in the sense that they believe men should be in charge, whether it’s in business or in the family. Women are just there to assist.”

“Wow. That’s unbelievable.” Kino turns to you as you wait to cross another street. “I mean, you don’t seem like you would want to be a CEO, considering your obvious passion for music, but I think you’re definitely capable if you worked for it.”

His sincere encouragement brings a genuine smile to your face. “Thanks, Kino. That really means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome.” His cheekbones pop out as he grins. “I’m sure your parents will come around eventually.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I mean, the whole secretary thing was already an improvement from their original wish for me.”

“Which was…?”

“Farmer’s wife.”

“What?” Kino burst into laughter. “That’s impossible to imagine.”

“Well I grew up on a farm, so it’s not that big of a stretch.”

“Really?”

You nod, safely crossing the street as the light changes. “Yeah. I’m from a really small town a few hours south of here. My family runs a wheat farm. My mom taught me how to cook and sew and everything, as if we were living in the nineteen-fifties. They didn’t even want me to get a degree at first because they thought it was unnecessary.”

“So how did you end up here?”

“I begged and pleaded until they finally caved. I asked for a chance to pursue something I really love. This is my one shot, so I really have to give it my all. I don’t think they’ll give me another chance. If I screw this up, they’ll probably try to marry me off to the neighbor boy or something.”

“We can’t have that.” Kino’s sweet smile radiates as he looks over at you. “I’m rooting for you, _____.”

Your chest fills with warmth. You’re so thankful to have made friends at school that are supportive of your dreams, and you’re glad to find that same support in Kino. “And I for you.”

Together, you veer off to the left, away from the glittering skyline of the city. You ask, “So where are you from? Is your family nearby?”

“Very near, actually.” He gestures vaguely south. “I grew up on the south side.”

"Ah." You hide your frown, but your curt response gives you away. You've heard all kinds of rotten things about the gang-related violence of the south side, and you can't imagine someone like Kino surviving in that kind of environment.

"It's not as terrible and dangerous as you probably think. It's got a bad reputation, but it's not all rotten."

You just nod. "So, wait, do you still live there? Aren't you headed the wrong way?"

With a shake of his head, he replies, "No, I'm living on campus, at Plymouth. Part of my whole fresh start, you know? Had to get out of the house and experience living on my own for a while."

Plymouth is across the street from your own dorm. "I'm at Turner!"

“We’re basically neighbors,” Kino comments.

As your buildings start to come into view, you realize how close they actually are. And how your room actually has a very direct view of Plymouth.

“Please tell me you don’t live on the east side of the building.”

“I do, actually. Why?”

You laugh. “I’m going to have to start closing my blinds whenever I get dressed.”

His eyes grow wide. “Have you been giving my whole dorm a peep show for the last week?”

“Maybe?” You cover your face with your hands as you continue to laugh, embarrassed. This summer’s sexual awakening may have persuaded you to live a bit more adventurously… Is Kino blushing?

“Don’t worry, I never noticed.” He spoke softly. “So don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Okay,” you murmur with a quiet chuckle, surprised that you’re not terribly concerned with what he may or may not have seen so far. You turn the corner, headed for the entrance to Turner Hall, and Kino keeps up with you.

"Oh, hey, I was wondering..." He starts, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. "Since we're in a lot of classes together this semester, maybe we could swap phone numbers? You know, in case either of us wants help with homework, or is going to miss class or something."

"Good idea!" You agree, pulling up in front of the building's entrance. You fish your own phone from your backpack and bring up the 'New Contact' screen before swapping phones with him. Once you've traded numbers, you pocket your phone. "Well, city boy, I'm gonna head inside now. I'll see you later?"

He nods, waving as he backs away. "See you, farm girl."

You watch as he crosses the street, heading for Plymouth. Something about him makes you feel at ease, and you have a feeling you'll end up spending quite a bit of time getting to know him this semester. With all of the classes you share, you're going to see him nearly every day of the week, and he seems pretty eager to be your friend. You wouldn't mind that.

Turning to head inside, you fish your room key out of your wallet, swiping it at the security desk as you pass by. As you call the elevator, a familiar dark figure appears in your peripheral.

You turn to greet him as the elevator door opens. "Hey, Yuto."

He nods silently, and you both file into the elevator.

"I didn't realize we live in the same building." You press floor nine and wait for him to make his selection, but he doesn't budge. "...Or the same floor?"

"Small world," he murmurs quietly, seemingly unfazed.

An uncomfortably awkward silence fills the small elevator, and you absentmindedly toy with the strap of your backpack as you search for something to talk about. "Are you excited about our set list?"

He shrugs so minutely you hardly even notice. "We've got some good music."

It doesn't really seem like he wants to talk to you, and you're not one to push him into a conversation, even though it's painfully awkward. You just hum quietly and let it be.

The door glides open, and you both head left down the hallway. He stops at the door directly across the hall from yours. Without a word, he disappears into his room.

How neighborly.

"Minseo, I'm freaking out." You paced in the small hotel room you had both chipped in on, just a floor above your destination for the night. "Am I seriously going to do this?"

"Relax, would you?" She sat calmly atop the queen sized bed, watching as you almost lost your balance from turning too quickly. "It's not like this is your first time."

"But it's my first time with a random guy. Can I even do that?" You froze in place. "Am I even allowed to do that?"

"_____! Of course you're allowed! You're an adult!" Minseo sprung up from the bed and grabbed you by the shoulders. "There is nothing wrong with you going downstairs and sleeping with a man you just met. If that's something you want to do, then I fully support it. You should let yourself have some fun."

You let out a small, frustrated whine. "I want to. Sweet baby Jesus, I want to."

Her hands moved up to cup your face. "Okay. You're gonna be fine."

Nodding, you exhaled slowly. "I'm an adult. I can do this."

"Yes! That's the spirit." She patted your cheeks before turning you around and walking you towards the bathroom. "Now go jump in the shower."

"Shower?"

"You don't want to show up all sweaty, do you?"

"Am I sweaty?"

"Go freshen up." She pushed you into the small bathroom. "But don't get your hair wet. Just make sure you're clean down there."

Your eyes widened and you realized she was right - it wasn't a bad idea to shower for the sake of below-the-belt cleanliness. "Okay."

"Good girl. Try not to fall over in there." Minseo encouraged you as she shut the door.

Five minutes and one off-key ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ shower concert later, you emerged from the bathroom a new woman. You felt as fresh as you smelled, and the steam from the shower had helped clear your mind a bit - but not everything was perfect.

Wrapped in a towel, you held your dress and underwear in your hand, and a pout crept onto your face. "Minseooooooo."

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I'm clean, but my clothes aren't."

She pried her eyes from the television, which was playing some trashy reality show, and she gestured for you to come towards her. "Let me see the dress." You handed it to her and she looked it over, sniffing it here and there. "I mean, it's not like dry-cleaners fresh, but it doesn't reek. There's not much you can do about that anyway, since we obviously didn't pack a change of clothes."

You pursed your lips. "I guess you're right."

"Nix the underwear, though."

"What?" Your cheeks flamed. "No underwear?"

"You heard me." She plucked the panties from your hand and tossed them over her shoulder into the corner of the room. "You'll feel gross putting dirty underwear on after you've showered, right? And besides, he'll think it's super hot that you're commando."

"Or he'll think I'm a slut. What if he likes nice girls that enjoy wearing underwear? Hm?"

"Honey, he wouldn't have invited you to his room if he wanted a nice girl who likes underwear." Minseo took your hand affectionately. "It’s okay to be slutty."

You furrowed your brow at her for a moment before a sly smile touched your lips and you let out a small giggle. "Am I turning into a slut?"

"Only if you want to, dear."

"I might want to. I might want to be a slut for Hongseok." You burst into a ball of laughter, absolutely giddy.

"Alright." Minseo laughed too, handing you back your dress. "Put this back on and get ready to slut it up."

By the time you and Shinhye enter the science building on Tuesday morning, you've almost entirely rid yourself of the dread gurgling low in your gut at the thought of seeing him. You tell yourself that it's just another class, he's just another teacher, and you will survive this. Sipping at the coffee Shinhye insisted on stopping for, you do your best to keep a level head.

Minseo’s advice rings in your ears. Tell him that you’re not going to say anything about what happened. Tell him that you want him to treat you normally. That’s what you want, right?

When you had called her last week, she had easily convinced you that talking to him about the whole situation would be a good idea. But now that the day of confrontation has arrived, you’re simply too chicken to even consider saying a word. Besides, you weren't entirely sure how coherently you'd be able to talk to him while sober, given the fact that you still swoon a little every time you look at him.

When you step into the classroom, you hardly glance in Professor Yang's direction. He's seated at the desk, typing away on his laptop. You focus on your seat at the back of the room, preparing for another few hours of being ignored, but before you can make it too far you hear him call your name.

"_____."

The sound sends a delicious ripple through your limbs, and you turn your head at a sloth's pace, afraid to make eye contact. He casually waves you over to his desk, as if it's no big deal that he just acknowledged you and that he wants you to come over so you can presumably talk one on one.

Shinhye continues on to her seat after giving you a curious look, and you turn back, making your way over to Professor Yang. He's fixated on his computer as you walk over, but he glances up at you ever so briefly when you reach his desk.

His voice is low as he acknowledges you. "Stop by my office after class. I think we need to talk."

A lump fills your throat and you're unable to speak. You really aren’t able to avoid it after all.

He peeks up at you again, probably curious because of your lack of verbal response, so you nod. He picks up a stack of papers and hands them to you. "Please pass these out to your classmates."

You take the packets - it's today's lab paperwork. He gestures to the rest of the class as if to say well, go on then, and you frown. You don't expect him to be friendly with you, but frankly he's coming across kind of rude and bossy, and that doesn't sit well with you. Begrudgingly, you do as he asks and distribute the packets.

When you return to your seat, Shinhye is quick to ask, "What was that about?"

"He just wanted help passing stuff out." Not totally a lie.

"I didn't realize you were such a teacher's pet," she teases.

"I'm not a teacher's pet. He asked me, so what could I do? It's not like I begged him to let me help."

"Whoa, relax. It's just a joke." Shinhye chuckled, adjusting the circular frames that rest on her nose. "It's not like you to be so uptight."

You take a deep breath, getting your head on straight. You need to be normal around Shinhye. With a plastered on smirk, you tease back. "That's your job, right?"

Shinhye purses her lips, but you can see the smile in her eyes. You laugh.

"Aw, come on, I love youuuuu."

"Yeah, yeah," she brushes off your affections, pushing you away when you lean in to coo over her. "Love you, too."

You smile. You may have to keep her in the dark, but her friendship will surely be one of the only things that can keep you sane through the rest of the semester.

It took a solid five minutes of pacing in front of his hotel room door before you finally worked up the courage to knock. Your stomach twisted in knots as you rapped your knuckles against the wood, checking for the thousandth time that the little door number definitely said 417.

You were really doing it. You were really getting ready to probably sleep with someone you just met. You had never done anything like that before, but it was about time you grew up and had a sense of adventure, right?

Any semblance of confidence you had slowly started to fade as you realized the door was not opening. Had you waited too long to come over? Was he already asleep? Were you at the wrong room altogether? Had he intentionally given you the wrong number? Why would he do that?

You tried knocking once more, but still no one answered. Disappointment swelled in your chest, tugging at your heart - you were surprised by how much you cared. He was just some guy, anyway. But it hurt to think that you may have just been rejected. After all, the fear of rejection had kept you from approaching him in the first place.

After another minute of waiting, you decided that you needed to move on. He wasn't going to answer the door. You headed for the stairwell, resigning yourself to a night with Minseo instead.

As you reached for the door to the stairs, the elevator next to you opened and a loud group of people spilled out. You assumed they were all coming up from the wedding, judging by their attire. And to your delight, one of the last people off the elevator was exactly the gorgeous man you had been waiting for.

You met Hongseok's eyes, a slow smile stretching across your lips. Perhaps not all hope for the night was lost.

He slid his hands into his pockets with a coy smile, his tux jacket draped over his arm. "Going somewhere?"

"I thought you gave me a phony room number," you confessed, tongue lazily forming the words. Wow, you definitely drank more than you should have.

"I would have to be crazy to do that to you." His gaze traveled down your figure, lingering on the hand that gripped the door handle. "Still want to come over?"

Nodding, you tried your best to contain your nervousness and look cool as you released the handle, letting the door close quietly.

He cocked his head in the direction of his room, a relaxed smirk on his lips. "Let's go, then."

You followed him back to room 417, and he opened the door, stepping aside to let you in first. Despite the wave of nervousness that washed over you, you felt ready. Eager, even. You let your hand casually brush against his leg as you slip into the room, desperate to touch him again.

His hand darted out to capture yours - rough skin but a gentle touch. Your feet froze and you turned back to meet his piercing gaze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest as the door closed behind him.

What should you do? How did hook-ups usually work? Chat first and then work your way up to the main event, or just dive in head first? You were clueless. You knew that you wanted to rip that damn shirt off of him, to press yourself against him and get lost in the feel of his skin. But you didn't want to be too forward and make things uncomfortable.

Taking his time, Hongseok approached you slowly, smoothing your hair and lifting your chin with his knuckle, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. Heat blossomed in your core as you looked up at him, thinking he might just go for it and kiss you. Maybe he was as impatient as you felt. Maybe he needed to have you, too.

He leaned in, but he didn't aim for your lips. He targeted your ear, murmuring softly and tickling you with his breath. "You're cute."

Warmth spread rapidly across your cheeks and you quietly stuttered, "Th-thank you."

But it was just a tease, hardly even a taste of how it felt to be close to him. He backed away, pulling you a bit deeper into the room before releasing your hand. "Mind if I play some music?"

You shook your head carefully, resisting the urge to take his hand back. "Not at all."

As he fished out his cell phone and plugged it into the speakers that sat on the desk, you looked around the room and took a seat at the edge of the bed. It wasn't a particularly fancy hotel, so the room was pretty basic. Just a standard queen size hotel bed, a dresser, TV, and a nightstand on either side of the bed - pretty much identical to the room you and Minseo reserved upstairs. An open gym bag sat on the floor, which you assumed he was using for his overnight stay.

"You said you like Marvin Gaye, right?" He typed into his phone, smiling to himself.

His song selection started playing, and you immediately recognized the first few notes as the opening to ‘Let's Get It On’. You couldn't help but laugh because of the cheesy song choice, hoping that he wasn't seriously trying to set the mood with that one. "Really? 'Let's Get It On'?"

He laughed at your critical reaction, sweet eyes crinkling at the corners. "Too forward?"

"You think?" You kicked your legs, too short to reach the floor from where you sat. "Try again."

"I'll admit, my knowledge of old school R&B is not what it should be. I'm more of an old rock fan." He scrolled through his phone in search of a better song choice.

You jumped up from the bed and strolled over to him, accidentally bumping against his arm as you plucked the phone from his hands. He felt warm and he smelled delicious, so you didn't make an effort to move away. Your brain was too fuzzy to care about personal space.

"Let me play you something. If you want sexy music, I know sexy music," you drawled, searching for the specific track that you had in mind. Hongseok slid his hands into his pockets, letting you do as you pleased. He didn't back away either, so you assumed he didn't mind the close proximity.

Finally, you found the song despite the many typos in your search: 'Tell Me Something Good' by Rufus, featuring Chaka Khan. You played it, and your hips instinctively started rolling when the funk guitar started. "Usually people think of R&B as being the sexiest music, but funk is highly overlooked and underrated."

When the vocals came in, you held his phone up to your mouth like a microphone and sang along, backing away from him to roll your body and put on a show. It briefly crossed your mind that you would never normally act that way. That was exactly the type of idiocy you were trying to avoid by dodging Hongseok earlier in the night. But at the end of the day you loved yourself some karaoke when you were drunk. You couldn't help but sing along, even if you sounded terrible.

"Hey!" Hongseok called after you with a chuckle, reaching for his phone as you danced away from him. He successfully grabbed it from you, preventing you from disconnecting it from the aux cord.

Never mind the lack of microphone; it just freed up your hands to run down your body, over your curves as you sang. "You refuse to put anything before your pride / What I got will knock all your pride aside..."

He watched you intently, a slight smirk on his lips. Maybe you didn't look as ridiculous as you thought you did. Or maybe he was just drunk enough to be into it.

You reached for his tie, pulling him towards you as you kept singing. "Tell me something good / Tell me that you love me, yeah..."

"But I hardly know you," he remarked, hands finding your hips.

With a fluttering of your eyelashes, you responded teasingly, "Oh, you don't believe in love at first sight?"

"I do," he smiled down at you, thumbs digging into your hips. "But only because I saw the way you looked at me and I knew you had fallen head over heels."

"Cocky piece of shit," you laughed, throwing your arms over Hongseok's shoulders as you danced together. "The thing is, though, you're not exactly wrong. I mean, you got me to show up here, which would have been impossible for anyone else."

"And I didn't even have to try. Look at you," Hongseok scanned your face, and you knew you must have looked like a girl in love. He was beautiful and you couldn't help your adoration. "You're in deep."

You let out a dramatic sigh. "What ever shall we do? I'm a lost cause."

"You may not be the only one."

There was something unbearably warm in his eyes as he said it, and it made your pulse race. He obviously didn't mean it; he's no more in love with you than you are with him. It was impossible that either one of you felt love for the other. It could only be blamed on lust, an inexplicable attraction between the two of you that left you weak in the knees with craving. But even so, it was fun to play pretend.

His breath gently rippled across your face. "You know, I was actually surprised to see you when I got off the elevator."

"Really?”

"It just seemed like you might talk yourself out of it."

"Well, I did. That's why I was at the stairwell," you admitted with a laugh.

Hongseok’s hands wandered over your ribs and across your back as he pulled you in closer. "Because you didn't want to see me?"

"Because you weren't there." You felt your cheeks growing warm, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. "I was disappointed because I thought I wouldn't get to, you know, see you tonight. But I wanted to. Want to," you corrected yourself. "I do."

"I promise," he murmured, lips curling into a mischievous smile, "you won't regret it."

After class, you make an excuse to Shinhye about how you need to visit with an advisor in the building so that she would leave without you. She is completely unassuming as she accepts your excuse, and you feel a pang of guilt for lying to her. You'll make it up to her soon; you promise that much to yourself.

You easily locate Professor Yang's office, and you're surprised that you feel the familiar nervous butterflies in your stomach as you knock on the wooden door. It's so similar to the night you spent with him, even though now you're meeting under completely different circumstances.

But just like that night, the door doesn't open, and you have to wait for him to show. You lean against the wall, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing heart. There's nothing for you to even be antsy about; you're just anxious about what he'll have to say. He'll probably just tell you exactly what you want to tell him - that you should both pretend nothing happened, and carry on as usual. Fingers crossed that you'll both be on the same page and there won't be much discussion.

As you stand there waiting, you start to ponder other possibilities. Surely he's not going to make some sort of proposition? What if he wants to sleep with you again, but this time with the risk of getting caught? He did ask you to meet him in his very private office… maybe he didn’t intend to talk at all.

He’d unlock the door and let you inside, casual as could be. But as soon as the door would shut, he’d grab you by the hand and throw you back against it, trapping you between the wood and his heat. His lips would crash into yours as if he has hungered for you since that night, his hands rushing to feel the skin that hides beneath your clothes. You’d wrap a leg around his hip, desperate to feel the friction of his bulge against your core.

You’d beg him to take you then and there: against the door, on his desk, down on the floor. As long as you could have him again, that’s all that would matter.

The thought of it makes your heart race and your mouth dry up, but you squash the fantasy before you can convince yourself that it’s a good idea. As exciting as it may be to think about, you know better this time. You're not going to sleep with him again. And if he has any sense, he'll stay the hell away from you.

Professor Yang eventually appears in the hallway, and you stand up a little straighter, hyper-aware of every inch of space between the two of you. He looked great, of course, with his collared shirt that had a single button undone at his throat and his hair swept up to the side. But you will not sleep with him.

He barely even greets you before unlocking the door and heading in first. You follow him, and he instructs you to close the door behind you. He doesn’t turn to you, doesn’t grab you or kiss you. That’s a good thing. That’s for the best.

You take a seat across from him at his desk. His office is small and scarcely decorated, with only an acoustic guitar propped up in the corner of the room. The deep mahogany finish is gorgeous, and you wonder if it’s an instrument that Professor Yang made by hand.

He relaxes back into his chair, hand covering his mouth as he looks at you. And he really looks at you, long and hard, as though he's trying to peer deep into your heart. It's incredibly nerve-wracking to be looked at in such a scrutinizing way, especially considering that he's hardly even glanced at you until now.

"What are the odds..." He mumbles quietly.

You realize that he still hasn't quite accepted the situation the two of you are in, and that makes you feel a little less alone. "I had no idea this would happen."

A line forms between his eyebrows, hand falling from his mouth. "You want me to believe that?"

You give him a similarly cynical look. "Excuse me?"

He sits up, anger evident in his piercing gaze. "You must have known! So why did you do it? Because you thought I'd give you a better grade this semester? That I'd be easier on you?"

Taken aback by his accusations, your jaw drops. "What? That's ridiculous! I would never-"

"Please, don't try to act all innocent. I can see right through it."

"I didn't know! How could-"

"Come on. You don't recognize me from any of last year's convocations? You had to have been there to hear me introduce my class."

Who the hell does this guy think he is? To sit there and accuse you of something so... so slimy and then refuse to hear you out! You won't stand for it, even if his commanding tone does send a shock of tingling adrenaline straight to your core.

He may still be the most attractive man you've ever seen, and you may still be feeling flustered by being in the same room as him... but regardless of those things, you can't let him walk all over you like this. He could do whatever he wanted to you at the hotel, but not here. This is real life, not a one night stand.

Every ounce of shyness within you disintegrates as you grit your teeth, preparing to defend yourself. "I am not that kind of girl. I am an intelligent and hard-working student, and I would never do something so disgusting.”

He starts to say something, and you rise to your feet, not yet finished. “Don't interrupt me again. I never saw you at last year’s convocations because I had to miss almost all of them for personal reasons. Those absences were all approved by the music office, if you feel so inclined to verify with them. And I don't know what on Earth makes you think this is all something that I set up - if you'll remember, I very clearly did my best to avoid you at the wedding. You were the one that approached me, not the other way around. Don't get that skewed. This is all your doing."

Professor Yang doesn't look too eager to ease up. "You were playing hard to get."

"I was trying to keep my sanity!" You lean over his desk, infuriated by the argument. "I couldn't think straight around you, you're so fucking attractive, Jesus Christ."

You cringe when you realize you've lost your filter. You did not mean to say that- not out loud, not to him.

He just sits there, quietly watching you with that same empty expression you've seen from him all week. He clenches his fist tightly around a pen, and you feel yourself deflate the longer he looks at you. But you don't sit down, telling yourself to stay strong and stand your ground.

Eventually he speaks up, and his voice is even as he says, "I think it would be best for you to drop my class."

"No."

"I urge you to reconsider."

"Absolutely not." You feel a surge of pride in yourself for standing up to him. "This is not how you do your job, Professor. You don't get to bully me out of your class just because you don't want me there. I signed up for your class and I intend to see it through to the end. And if you treat me unfairly, I will report you."

"You won't," he answers calmly, coolly challenging you.

He's right, it's an empty threat. But you stick to it. "Yes, I will."

Professor Yang sighs exasperatedly. "You won't, because if you report me for unfair treatment, then we'll both be placed under a microscope. Someone will find out about what happened between us this summer, and we'll both get in trouble. I'll lose my job and you'll be expelled."

You'll be expelled? That's news to you. The reality of the situation hits you like a punch to the gut. You can't afford to lose your status as a student here; your parents would never forgive you. They already aren't too happy about the fact that you're pursuing a degree in music. If you screw yourself over by getting expelled, that’s the end of the line for you.

He continues. "So don't think that you can blackmail me into boosting your grade or giving you special treatment, because I'm not the only one that will face severe consequences. Get that idea out of your head right now. You can't threaten me like that. Oh, and don't even think that I'll boost your grade in exchange for sexual favors. That is not going to work on me."

Your jaw drops. "Oh my God, are you even listening to me? Who do you think I am? Seriously! I'm not going to try to sleep with you for extra credit. I'm an honest student."

"I'm only covering our bases to let you know what is unacceptable." He picks at the stem of the pen’s cap, lifting it with his thumb and releasing so that it clicks in a steady rhythm that is nothing short of irritating.

“Well this could go both ways, couldn’t it?” You cross your arms over your chest. "What's going to stop you from pursuing me? What's going to keep you from lowering my grade if I refuse your advances?"

"What even makes you think I would pursue you?" He says it like he wants his words to hurt you, as if he's trying to make you feel that you're not worthy of his attention. But it's pointless; his actions have already proven otherwise.

You are so gorgeous that I might actually believe in love at first sight.

He had said that to you. It was a baseless, drunken confession, but the fact remains that he has been attracted to you once and he could be attracted to you still.

Let's be drunk and in love, then.

You had said all sorts of embarrassing things to each other, and your cheeks burn as you remember. You shift your weight, scanning his face as you force yourself to respond. "It wouldn't be the first time. And from what I remember, you enjoyed yourself an awful lot that night."

It's a long, quiet moment. You can practically see that night replaying in his mind, seductive images of you flashing in his eyes. It doesn't make you uncomfortable to know he's probably remembering every curve of your naked body; it boosts your confidence that he's been momentarily flustered by the memory of you.

The pen in his death grip falls to his desk, and he folds his hands in his lap, looking haggard. "If you choose to stay in the class, I promise that I will treat you fairly and I will not make any advances towards you. I promise that you will finish the class with an unbiased grade. However, I think you should seriously consider dropping the class, for both your sanity and mine."

For both your sanity and mine.

You can't quite tell what he means by that. Does he expect you'll continue to be at each others' throats for the rest of the semester? Or on the contrary, is he saying it might be difficult to refuse the temptation of each other if you're forced into the same classroom once a week?

Regardless of the truth behind his words, you're unwilling to budge on the matter. You calmly return to your seat, collecting your thoughts. "All due respect, but I really don't want to drop. I have a very genuine interest in your class, and I've been looking forward to it since I signed up. I don't want to sacrifice my education because of this."

"Then I will remind you that you have another two weeks to withdraw if you change your mind, and I won't bring it up again."

You both fall quiet, and you hate the feeling of regret bubbling in your stomach. You shouldn't have slept with him. You knew it was a bad idea but you went and did it anyway. And what makes it even worse is that now one of the best nights of your life is colored with regret. You want to remember that feeling of being so alive without immediately hating yourself for your poor decision making skills.

He pulls you out of your puddle of self-loathing as he asks, "Have you told anybody about this?"

You shake your head, but realize immediately that you're wrong. "Actually, my cousin knows. The one at the wedding that sort of instigated this whole thing."

"Expected. But you haven't said anything to anyone about the current situation?"

You take a deep breath. "I called that same cousin a few days ago. She knows you're my professor and everything. I just had to say something, I was going crazy."

"Is she a student here too?"

"No, she's not."

"Okay. You can't tell anyone else though, understood?"

You frown, a crease forming between your brows. "I won't, jeez. You're acting like you're the only one that has something to lose. I'm not out to get you. I'm scared, too."

He rubs his temple. "I'm sorry. I just want to make sure we're protecting ourselves."

Your ears perk up at the word sorry. So he is capable of apologizing! "An apology for earlier would be nice, too," you grumble.

"For what, exactly?"

You frown. "For falsely accusing me of setting this up."

"I don’t know for sure that those accusations are false."

"You're kidding." Your blood boils. You had no idea that you've spent all this time fawning over such a prick. "Why don't you believe me?"

"That doesn't really matter, does it? What matters is that it doesn't happen again. Understood?" He easily evades your question, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Rest assured, you are safe from my relentless pursuit." You roll your eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm, and you grab your bag, ready to leave. There’s nothing else that can be done here. "I'll do my best not to unintentionally seduce you, you poor helpless thing."

"You don't have to be childish."

"You don't have to be a dick, but here we are." You resist the urge to kick his desk. You can't remember the last time you felt so frustrated. You stare each other down until you finally break away from him, turning to head for the door. Clearly he's not going to apologize, so there's no point to sticking around any longer.

"Wait, _____. One more thing."

You hate the way your whole body electrifies at the sound of your name. Screw him and the way his perfect mouth forms the damned syllables.

"I hate to ask, and maybe I don't even want to know... but how old are you?"

Frowning, you answer. "Nineteen. Turning twenty in like, two months."

"Nineteen?!"

You grip the door handle and look over your shoulder at him. "Yeah, nineteen."

"Oh my God, you're a baby." He drags his hands down his face. "Nineteen? Really?"

You ignore his baby comment; making a fuss over it would only prove his point. "How old did you think I was?"

"At least twenty-two or twenty-three. I mean, Christ, you were drinking at the wedding. I didn't realize you were underage."

"Don't say that I'm underage, that makes it sound like you screwed a teenager."

"Well technically I did. Nineteen. God dammit, shit..."

You crinkle your nose, realizing that you never really considered the age gap between the two of you. "And how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-six."

Seven years. He's seven years older than you. That's kind of a lot. "Like... just turned twenty-six?"

He nods, speechless for once, like his voice just gave up. So, closer to six-ish years. That's not... awful...

"For what it's worth, I didn't realize that I was screwing a senior citizen so-"

"Don't." He cuts you off, raising his hand in warning. "Don't do that. Don't start getting sassy, don't start joking around with me. Just don't."

Another sassy remark is readied at the tip of your tongue, but you hold back when you notice that he almost looks pained. Why does he look pained?

You let it go and turn the knob, yanking the door open. "I'll see you next week, then."

He nods, unwilling to meet your eyes, and you close the door behind you.

You stomp the whole way down State Street to the music building, steam shooting from your ears after your 'meeting' with Professor Yang.

Curse him and his stupid asshat attitude. Screw him for being devilishly handsome and for being the world's biggest dick. How could you have slept with someone like him? How could you let yourself get into this mess?

You get to the main office on the third floor, and the reception desk is regrettably empty. You peek around for a student worker, but there is no one to be found. Even the doors to the professors’ offices are closed, implying that they are away or otherwise unavailable.

Huffing, you grab a pen from the cup on the reception desk and scribble a message onto the notepad sitting there. You explain in perhaps too-colorful language that you are in desperate need of photocopies of your approved excuse cards from last spring’s convocations, and you leave your cell phone number so that you can be contacted when said photocopies are available.

The anger that clouds the corners of your vision starts to dissipate as you tuck the note under the computer mouse for the student worker to find later. You're frustrated by everything Professor Yang has said to you, and you're frustrated by the fact that even what you believe to be an easy fix is not instantaneously possible. If you can just get the damned excuse cards to him, then he would have to believe you when you say you're clueless. Right? He'd probably never admit it, but you just need to know that he knows that you're telling the truth. You can't stand being called a liar.

You pull the cell phone out of your backpack as you trudge towards the stairs. What you really need right now is to hang out with someone and distract yourself from the bullshit with Professor Dickface. You want to call Shinhye, but you know that she'll be on her way to her next class shortly. And then you think of Kino, whose phone number you snagged after rehearsal yesterday. Maybe you should see what he's up to.

You call him, only momentarily thinking it might be weird to call instead of texting. But before you have a chance to second guess, he picks up.

"Farm girl! Hi." You can barely hear him over the rush of wind, but the nickname makes you smile.

"Hey. You busy?"

"Not exactly. Why?"

"I just need to get my mind off of something and I was wondering if you might want to hang out."

"Sure! Where are you?"

"Music building. You?"

"On my way there, actually. I was going to snag a practice room to start working on some stuff for R&B ensemble. Do you want to practice with me?"

You smile, releasing a careful sigh. "Yeah, let's do that."

As you step down the last stretch of stairs, you see Kino coming through the revolving door, his hair a mess from the wind. He spots you and waves, ending the call and pocketing his phone. He meets you at the stairwell. "Hey."

"Hey." You point upstairs. "Shall we?"

Together, you head back up and wind down a hallway to find an empty practice room. Thankfully you snag one with a baby grand instead of one of the dinky upright pianos.

"So, something's bothering you?" Kino inquires, dropping his backpack onto a chair and rifling through it in search of his music.

"Yeah, but I don't really want to talk about it, if that's alright." Well, it's not that you don't want to talk about it, it's just that you can't. Well, shouldn't. Won't.

"I hear you loud and clear. We'll just make some music, and if that doesn't help you feel better, we'll go get milkshakes or something. Milkshakes make everything better." He raises his eyebrows at you as he sets his music on a stand.

You nod, sliding onto the piano bench. "That sounds great. Maybe we should get milkshakes regardless."

"Honestly, I am one-hundred percent down for a milkshake. Have you been to the ice cream shop down on Thirteenth?" He groans when you shake your head. "Okay, then it's a done deal. We have to go."

"I will not refuse." You smile, feeling lighter already.

You rehearse together for nearly an hour, and you let the music completely occupy your mind. You don’t think about Professor Douche-Cock; you don’t think about the way he infuriates you and you certainly don’t think about your still overwhelming attraction to him. For that hour, your mind and soul can breathe.

"What's on your mind?" Hongseok's voice flowed over you, a gentle creek warmed by the hot summer sun.

Humming quietly, your eyes fluttered shut and you inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet, fresh scent of him, his cologne mingling with the alcohol on his breath. "You."

"Me?"

The two of you had long since lost track of the music, swaying lazily and dancing way too close. You felt so absorbed in the grip of his hands and the solidness of his body under those damn clothes and you could no longer think straight. You needed to touch his skin, to feel his lips. His face was mere inches from yours - far too much of a temptation.

"You, your lips, your hands, your..." You trailed off with a sly grin. "I'm thinking about everything you're hiding under your tux."

"What a coincidence," he murmured, his fingertips dragging over your exposed back. "I can't stop imagining how you'll look when your dress is finally on the floor."

Your heart raced. He finally admitted to what had been implied all night - that he wanted you naked, that he would get you naked. Of course, that had been your plan all along, but hearing him verbalize it made you quiver with excitement. You needed him... you were desperate.

"When are you going to kiss me?" You couldn't stop the words before they spilled from you of their own volition. But regardless of the unwarranted sentiments, you felt a bold smile form on your lips.

Hongseok chuckled, amused. He pulled you in tighter, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he leaned in. "Wouldn't it be too easy if I just gave you what you wanted?"

"I really don't care." You touched your forehead to his, challenging him. You knew he wanted to. He had to.

His shallow breath fanned over your face as he cupped your cheek. “Neither do I."

A rush of adrenaline burst through your veins as Hongseok closed the gap, finally pressing his lips to yours. Each kiss laced with passionate desire, he held nothing back as he kissed you once, twice, a thousand times over. Your hands traveled up into his soft hair as your lips crashed into his, and he securely grabbed your waist, tugging you towards the bed.

Hongseok sat on the edge of the mattress and you eagerly climbed up onto his lap, straddling him and sighing softly when you felt his hardening length between your legs. You could tell that he had a lot to offer.

He grabbed your wrists and redirected your hands to his tie, and your mouths never separated as you worked to slide the material out from his collar. You quickly moved onto the buttons of his vest and shirt, and he reached around you to tug at the zipper of your dress, both of you completely consumed with the overwhelming need to press skin against skin. You only pulled away when you finally ripped open his shirt, wanting just a moment to take in the sight of him.

He was extremely muscular, as you had expected, and it was almost intimidating how utterly perfect his torso was. You ran your fingers over his rippled abdomen, entranced by the dips and peaks of each muscle. His skin was hot to the touch, and it sent a delicious shock through you.

"How..." You started a question, but you didn't really know where it was going. With a gorgeous face and perfect body, Hongseok was simply too good to be true. You were awestruck, your hands coming to rest on the solid curve of his pecs.

"You haven't even seen the best part yet." He rocked his hips ever so slightly, reminding you that there was even more left to reveal.

"You're so cocky," you giggled, shrugging off the straps of your dress as he peeled the fabric away. You might have been more shy about stripping if you had been sober, but your wine-induced haze made you more than ready to be rid of the damn dress.

"I think you'll find I have good reason to be." His eyes flashed and he pressed another long kiss against your lips. He tasted of bourbon and promiscuity, and you wanted all of it. You were drunk on him. All you wanted was to kiss him for all of eternity.

Hongseok's rough fingers ran along the bare skin of your sides as he pulled your dress down around your waist. With your dress half off, you felt wildly exposed, but in the best possible way. His lips separated from yours so that he could get a look at you the way you had with him.

As his eyes scanned down from your face to your chest, you couldn't help the slight blush that came to your cheeks. It was embarrassing to be looked at that way, but it was also thrilling to watch him drink you in.

"You are absolutely gorgeous. Have I told you that yet?" His eyes met yours, a sweet smile touching his lips despite the darkness of his blown-out pupils.

"Don't think you've mentioned it," you murmured, barely able to get the words out before he crashed into your lips, his hot tongue pressing past the seam. You gladly accepted it, yanking his shirt off of his shoulders and pressing yourself harder against him. His strong arms wrapped around you completely, trapping you in his heat as your tongues wrestled. The kiss was sloppy and messy, but you were too distracted by wanting him to care.

As Hongseok continued kissing you, his hand slipped between your bodies in search of your breast, carefully massaging it and running his calloused thumb over your nipple until it stood up for him. He twisted the sensitive bud between his fingers, drawing a pleasured gasp from you. You had never considered yourself to be especially sensitive to physical touch - not any more than the next person, anyway - but Hongseok threw all of your senses into overdrive, driving you wild with the simplest of touches.

You ground your pelvis against his desperately, and his lips trailed along the skin just under your jaw as he worked his way down to your breast. You arched your back to give him better access, shuddering when his teeth grazed over your neck and collarbone. How could you feel so good already?

Hongseok's mouth latched onto your breast, and he sloppily lapped at your nipple while pinching the one still in his hand. It made the room spin; you were so lightheaded with pleasure you could hardly stand it. Panting heavily, you dug your fingers into his impressively muscular back, cursing yourself for keeping your fingernails so short. He seemed like the kind of guy who might like getting scratched up.

You continued rocking your hips as his mouth moved to your other breast and his hand traced up your thigh, sneaking under the skirt of your dress. Every inch of skin he traversed felt like a mile, taking far too long to reach the juncture of your thigh and your hip. You grinned wickedly as he felt for the strap of your nonexistent underwear, his tongue even pausing its ministrations as he realized that you were, in fact, completely bare beneath your dress.

With a soft groan, he slipped his other hand under your dress, fingers splayed across the round curve of your ass. He released your nipple from his mouth and his fox eyes flashed as he focused in on your face. "You are full of surprises."

"All good, I hope." Your chest tightened as you smiled at him, and your drunk self dared to think you might be falling in love.

"Only the best," he murmured lowly before capturing your mouth in another passionate kiss, his lips embracing yours as he gave your ass a squeeze. You rocked your hips fervidly, desperate to feel some sort of relief, and he caught you off guard when he lifted you, his forearms sliding under your thighs for support. Surprised, you laughed against his mouth and held tightly onto his shoulders. Jesus, he was strong.

Hongseok stood with you in his arms, turning around so he could lay you down on the bed. His lips stayed on yours the whole way down. He hovered over you, propping himself up with one arm, his other hand running over your thigh. His callouses scratched your skin and you purred at the sensation. You wanted those hands all over you.

His knuckles tracked along your inner thigh until his fingers discovered your folds, and you felt him smirk against your lips. You were dripping just from kissing him, and you were sure he approved. Softly, he traced your folds with the pad of his finger and his thumb teased the area around your clit.

You whimpered, squirming with anticipation as he circled your sex. He was such a tease, taking his time and slowly unraveling you. And it was working; you were falling to pieces and he had hardly even touched you.

Hongseok pressed a single finger past your entrance and his mouth moved south to your neck, giving you space to moan. He nibbled at the base of your throat before sliding his tongue up the length of it. "I want to taste you," he murmured into your neck, a quiet growl in his voice.

His simple words made you clench around his finger; you would love that more than anything. Breathy, you said, "Yes, please, do whatever you want." You completely gave yourself up to him, a bundle of nervous energy electrifying your gut. Anything he wanted to do to you, you would gladly receive.

Without hesitation, Hongseok kneeled between your legs, and a chill ran through you at the absence of his heat. He looked beautiful with hair tousled from your fingers and his lips pink from your kiss. How on Earth had you ever gotten so lucky?

His eyes scanned over your body as his finger slid out of you, his hands urging your skirt further up your hips before refocusing his attention on your clit. You gasped as he made contact, your legs jerking at the jolt of pleasure.

A smirk fell on his lips as he toyed with your most sensitive spot. “You are so hot, oh my God…”

You weren’t really sure if you should respond - or if you were even capable of responding - but Hongseok’s lips were suddenly on your folds and your mind went completely blank. His tongue prodded at your entrance before working its way up to your clit, and when he started sucking you swore you were blinded with pleasure.

You fought the immediate tension that coursed through you, not wanting to get wound up too quickly and end it too soon. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and you were convinced you’d never again find someone as gorgeous and fucking amazing at oral as Hongseok. You had to enjoy it.

Hongseok massaged your folds as he continued eating you out, and you couldn’t help but pinch your nipples, amplifying the ripples he sent throughout your body, careful not to take it too far. You whined as you twisted them and he lapped at your clitoris, his finger sliding inside of you once more. You were filled with sensation, and nothing could have been more perfect.

“That’s… aa-aahhh… ohh…” You tried desperately to encourage him, but words were difficult to come by. But he must have understood; he kept up with that same tongue pattern, stroking two fingers carefully against your walls. Sooner than anticipated, he brought you right to the edge. “Hong… Hongseok, yes… plea-oh…”

He didn’t change his pace, didn’t change pressure. He just continued in exactly the same manner until you broke, a series of short, squeak-like moans coming from you as an incredibly powerful orgasm washed over you. He pressed a flat tongue against your clit as you climaxed; you felt so full and warm and beautiful.

When your pulse was no longer racing he released you, and you hummed quietly. You eyed him as he stood, his chin and chest wet with your arousal and his erection straining against his pants: an absolute Adonis if you’d ever seen one.

You were speechless, grinning up at him like a fool. Everything felt so good. How could a human make you feel that way? He might have actually been a god.

Hongseok helped you sit up, and lifted the dress up over your head so you were fully in the nude. Wiping at his chin, he smirked and then reached for his belt buckle. “I hope you’re not too tired. After all, we’re just getting started.”

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Part 3 will be posted Saturday at 8pm.

Update | Read Part 3 here!

THIS IS REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTORY. All future content (including HFT Part 4 and onwards) will only be posted on GWENTORYFICS. Thank you!

#hongseok #yang hongseok #hongseok smut #yang hongseok smut #hongseok scenario #pentagon smut #pentagon scenario #hyunggu scenario #kino scenario #kino angst #hyunggu angst #hyunggu #kino #kang hyunggu scenario #yang hongseok scenario #hot for teacher #hft

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sweetdreamsjeff · 5 years ago

Text

Lost Interview The Impression of Being Eternal /“L’impressione di essere eterno”

Jeff Buckley, a '95 interview in the book "The impression of being eternal": "I am the classic white rock boy"

Comes out today, November 7th, "Jeff Buckley. The impression of being eternal". The volume - published by Chinaski Edizioni and edited by Federico Traversa, Marco Porsia and Francesca D'ancona - collects the many interviews, released by Jeff Buckley during his life, plus different materials on the great artist who died, including a complete discography, contributions writings by Omar Pedrini and Giulio Casale (Estra) and unpublished shots by Jeff made by photographer Hans van den Boogard. Many interviews are unpublished, such as the one created by the Italian Luisa Cotardo that was never published, or like that of Steve Berkowitz, the Columbia Records AR who discovered and signed Jeff Buckley.

Courtesy of the publisher, we publish this interview for MTV, January 10th '95, in the weeks of the publication of "Grace": Jeff tells himself without filters and - among other things - tells about his passion for Led Zeppelin and the story of his cover of "Hallelujah" which later became legendary.

In front of the MTV microphones, Jeff speaks profusely of the relationship with his band mates - Mick Grondhal, Michael Tighe and Matt Johnson - with whom he found the right chemistry to compose. The words for producer Andy Wallace are also thick. It hardens only when it has to express itself about the hated print media and the need to make promotional videos of its own tracks; situation to which it is adapting but which it does not fully share.

You can talk a little about your father, and your mother, who was a pianist, and ...

Yes, in practice I was raised by my mother. Me, my little brother and her. I was raised by the maternal branch of the family and there was always music. My grandmother had an old acoustic guitar in the closet. I found it and decided to take it. That's how I started playing, with excellent results, until I received my first electric guitar when I was 13. Electric guitar ... you know how it ends. When an electric guitar comes into the hands of a kid ... all that potential can send him out of his mind forever. And that's exactly what happened.

Is that when you started composing your first songs, at 13?

A 14.

Did you play with bands as a kid? Always.

In high school? Always. I don't know how, to tell the truth: we always moved, so every time I had to start over. Even if things were going well, I had to leave them behind. And then you moved to Hollywood? I let my mom go on without me when I was about 17, and I stayed where I was before finishing high school and then I went to Los Angeles. I lived in Hollywood.

And did you play in different bands at the time? That's when you started ... No, I was hanging around a bit. I worked on different projects just to stay afloat. Small home recording sessions for friends, things like that. When I first met Mickey, the first real good band I ever played was formed.

It's really the first, you've been solo for a long time ... I remained solo just waiting for a person like Mickey to come into my life. I found Matt. And I've always known Michael, the guitarist. We all gathered like three weeks before we started recording "Grace".

So even before recording the album you were hoping that sooner or later ... I knew it, when I was doing solo concerts I knew I wanted a band, but I didn't want to hire random musicians, I didn't want a temporary solution, you know? I had passed enough. I wanted a definitive solution, a real project in my life. I knew Mickey was the right one, we were perfect from the first night we played together. It was about two in the morning, we had to play at very low volume, and he managed to be both melodic and strong at the same time. I knew it immediately. And when Matty, the drummer, when I, Mick and Matt met together, the very first night we brought out the music of "Dream Brother". All that Mickey and I played was handed to Matty, and he helped us find the arrangement. I mean, if you find a quality like that in a drummer, you're fine. And apart from that, it's also beautiful.

Um, how did Andy Wallace add to the production? I'm not sure, I just met him one day at the record company offices and we started talking about a Hillbilly record I was passionate about, I was playing Sun Ra. And I was saying that I would have liked to do old-fashioned things. You know no, the whole band in a room, some mics, no overdubs. It didn't go that way at the end, because we weren't strong enough. We were not as strong as a band as we are now. And we had to proceed differently. But he liked the idea a lot. He would have done both as producer and sound engineer as the mix. A very compact, united work group. It was great.

Did you know the projects he had worked on before? Oh sure, yes.

And what contribution do you think it made to the record, let's say in relation to the work someone else could have done? Andy Wallace helped us focus on the project. And whenever I couldn't point to Matty because I wasn't in the mood, he turned to Andy. Each producer has its own identity, its own vision. He embodies the vision of the project himself: he was very careful to understand what I had in mind. In practice, many of the album's ideas are mine, but his contribution was precious to keep me anchored to the project, he made sure that we all found ourselves often thinking or talking about how we wanted to do something. And it's already half the job.

What do you think of the enthusiastic comments you received? Even the critics see you favorably, there ...

It's like a walking fair. Let's see what happens next year. But I'm happy, you know, I'm very pleased. Although, I don't know. The critics' compliments are not something that ... that ... um ... you can't measure your value based on the opinion of the critics. They have a very different use of music, compared to normal people. They hold stacks and piles of CDs on the desk to review them. And to try to identify someone who they think will be fine, things like that. But with us they were very genuine. And obviously there will be people who hate me to death. I know it very well. But it does not matter.

When you play you feel under pressure, the idea of having to meet people's expectations derived from positive criticism?

No. No. When people hear us play live, they realize that we are authentic, on stage. It is immediate. If I don't have a lot of energy, I will pass on my tiredness to the band and we will do a "low-level" concert. If instead we are very active, the concert will be excited. Well, you know, music is like that. Change every time. You can't expect that ... you can't hope to impose a fixed structure. If you respect his will, she will in a certain way respect yours. It is an exchange.

How would you describe your music? I think it's full of emotion ... It is simply music. I'm the classic white rock boy. A great mix in which we put the stuff we love.A lot of things have been a source of inspiration. The critics immediately identified the Zeppelins, but when I was five I did nothing but listen to "Zeppelin II". Apparently, according to Spin, they don't fit into alternative music, but I don't agree. But there are others, too, other things that have happened to us. We like all kinds of groups. All possible musical experiences. Not just guitar rock, you know? Whether it's Birthday Party or Esquivel. We like everything.

What about Leonard Cohen? Fantastic. But the reason I did a cover of "Hallelujah" is the song itself, not the fact that it is Leonard's. However, I can't help feeling great admiration for him, and I think it applies to everyone. It is extraordinary.

Do you know if you've got to listen to your version? I hope he will never hear it.

Why? Because, um, I don't know. To me it is a bit like a song sung by a little boy. I also have a version of the night when we recorded "So Real", I was so exhausted that I forgot that we were recording, in that I have a more adult voice. I think ... I don't know. The results are different each time we play that piece. But I hope to do him justice. Because the great thing about Leonard's songs is that they can take very different paths, and inhabit different places. Actually, it's the beautiful thing about every song. The best songs have strong legs, and they adapt in all circumstances.

I noticed that you didn't enter the lyrics on the CD. Don't like talking about the meaning of the songs? Exactly, because the experience of the song is stronger if it is enjoyed independently, through direct experience. If you can get an interpretation of the text on your own, the impact is much greater. And I would also add that, in my opinion, on paper they are nothing special.

What do you think about making music videos? Music videos ... are a new thing that arouses so many concerns. I don't know ... It's not bad. It's the turn in which it ends ... You know, you make a video, you broadcast it on a channel, it's a bit like a commercial. I never fell in love with a song thanks to a music video. It's more ... a promotional tool. To understand: here is Eddie Vedder, here is toothpaste, here is the cream for pimples, here are the Nirvana and here the Weezer. I mean, sometimes it can be fun, but it's a tunnel with no exit. The concert is much better. Much better the album. However, visual media can be fun.

#Jeff Buckley #The Impression of being eternal #L’impressione di essere eterno

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paulisweeabootrash · 5 years ago

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Pokémon 2.B.A. Master

I stumbled across a piece of weeb trash media I had heard of, but neither attempted nor expected to find. And it’s a bit different. Today, my friends, we are not doing an anime or manga, or even another novel. We’re doing a tie-in music album, a American blatant cash-grab based on a Japanese franchise. Oh no. Oh yes.

Pokémon 2.B.A. Master (1999)

As a young weeblet, I was a regular watcher of the first two arcs of Pokémon (Kanto and Johto). It was in both weekday and weekend timeslots, and never seemed to be broadcast in any sensible order, but I nonetheless watched it frequently and enjoyed it no matter how many times WB decided to rerun episodes I’d already seen. At some point, this CD came out, and I remember seeing ads for it when it was new. There were even televised music videos for a few of the songs, broadcast as a segment called “Pikachu’s Jukebox”. I never saw a copy of the album in person, and never expected to. Maybe it was one of those that you had to order by calling some number? I don't remember (or, frankly, care enough to look it up). Anyway, I recently encountered this in the small music section of a used book store, and I figured "why not?" And the obvious answer is "most of the contents".

The cover, in addition to using proud and unironic Comic Sans for the subtitle "2.B.A. Master", boasts that the album contains both "Music From The Hit TV Series" and "10 Brand New Songs!" The former refers obviously to the main theme of the show and every child's favorite mnemonic device, the PokéRap (or “PokéRAP” as it’s spelled for some reason?), but I'm not sure what the third song from the show is. And again, I don’t care enough to look it up. The important thing is, John Loeffler wrote all of them, and apparently an absurd number of other Pokémon-related songs. The "Brand New Songs!" here are mostly new to me, and they’re... a doozy. Except for the songs from the show, plus “Double Trouble” and maybe “Misty’s Song” if I want to be very generous, I am tempted to suggest you could get a similar musical experience in a shorter time by putting on an episode of Pokémon, playing a mix of Milli Vanilli and Boyz II Men songs over it, and banging your head against a wall.

1. Pokémon Theme

We begin with the extended version of the classic theme, this is a sure dose of nostalgia for anyone who watched the show. It sounds, considering the release date, a little outdated — I get kind of a "Beat It" vibe, not from the melody, but from the instrumentation, combining 80s-gated drums and searing electric guitar. But the theme, already one of the few TV themes out there I find enjoyable and not instantly forgettable, extends to a full length surprisingly well, avoiding getting boring or devolving into complete idiocy with lyrics. I actually like this song as a song, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

2. 2B A Master

The instrumentation in this track is absurdly 90s, and again kind of Michael Jackson-y, but is interesting and varied, especially in the sudden attention-grabbing rhythmic change accompanying the line "the greatest master of Pokémon". It shows better restraint in its use of things like record scratch noises and basslines running parallel to vocal lines that I find get really old really quickly. I actually, on the whole, enjoy this song and think the music could have been the basis for something great. “Could have” being the keyword. Lest you think I'm going to give a rosy, loving review of this album, no, it quickly gets bad. Some of the lyrics feel like such forced attempts to get Pokémon references in that I am embarrassed on behalf of the people stuck singing and rapping them, 20 years later. It’s a waste of what could’ve been a fun funky song. (Incidentally, why is the title of the song punctuated differently from the title of the album?)

3. Viridian City

The slide downhill continues. What the hell is this song? The lyrics are only marginally less stupid than the previous track, the music sounds like a keyboard "dance" preset, and it has a weird rapped/spoken "echoing" of sung lines it’s incredibly hard to imagine anyone ever liked. Ugh.

4. What Kind of Pokémon Are You?

Third time's the charm, I guess? After the previous two tracks tried and failed to force Pokémon-related lyrics that just don't work, this one at least manages to fire off a series of type-related puns. The music, however, turns back towards gratingly boring (and for some reason, the bridge comes thisclose to ripping off "Eye of the Tiger"?). Actually, no, hahaha, the lyrics remain very stupid, I think I'm just getting "ground down by a Marowak" by how bad the preceding tracks were.

5. My Best Friends

The parts move in unison too closely for my tastes, the lyrics are bland, the vocal arrangement makes it sound downright inappropriately dramatic, and what’s up with the bridge that veers off into doo-wop? The main thing this song has going for it is the vaguely pleasant piano part in the verses, which really appeals to me (it sounds familiar, although I can’t place what specifically it reminds me of). The melody of the chorus sounds even more familiar — so familiar in fact I'm starting to wonder if it's a copyright-violation-skirting ripoff of something famous. But otherwise, this is a solid “meh”, sounding like a boy band song that would only briefly have made the charts.

6. Everything Changes

And now we're back to impressions of Michael Jackson. This one's instrumentation and mood and even bits of the melody are so him that I could almost believe you if you told me this was an outtake that didn't make it onto Bad. (Although the singer sounds less like Jackson the longer the song goes on.) The lyrics, although vaguely applicable to everything, are a welcome change from the previous few tracks by not feeling like Pokémon has been painfully shoehorned in... up until the part where a clip from the show plays during a break between choruses. Ugh. Could you really not come up with a better way to make this into a distinctly Pokémon song?

7. The Time Has Come (Pikachu's Goodbye)

Yuck. The sentimental ballad (I want to call it a “power ballad”, but I’m unsure what exactly counts as one), as a general rule, is a fire hose full of melodrama best used for comedy. I don't understand how songs like this have ever been taken seriously. I would expect to hear this as the ending theme to a movie that tries to be a tragedy but can’t quite pull it off.

8. Pokémon (Dance Mix)

I assumed from the title that this was a remix of the theme song, but instead, it's just sort of a filler track... It makes almost no impression on me at all, although I do enjoy the intro’s use of "backward-sounding" and morphing synths. Otherwise, this is another track that sounds like it uses keyboard preset backgrounds.

9. Double Trouble (Team Rocket)

Okay, look, I can’t rate this one fairly. The longest-running fandom-related internal conflict of my life has been whether I'd rather be James or have James as mai hasubando, and I love Team Rocket in general as comedy relief villains. I used to enthusiastically perform their ridiculous introductory speech with a friend from band camp (I am even more of a geek than you thought). This song actually bothers to be more specific in terms of its Pokémon subject matter, meaning this is finally a song about Pokémon rather than just a generic pop song with Pokémon flavor, and it uniquely is performed by voice actors from the show, namely those who played Jesse, James, Meowth, and Giovanni. It really grates on me when the VAs talk over the singers, but unlike some of the other songs, it feels like it builds up and goes somewhere. We have at least broken free from the boringness of the last few tracks, with almost industrial percussion and chromatic and sometimes dissonant bass and synth lines that really make it a solid villain song, even though it has a hokey “rap written by people who haven’t actually listened to any rap” feel. And James’s absolutely ludicrous laugh will absolutely alienate who isn’t already a fan of the character, and most people who are, too.

10. Together Forever

The “disappointing imitation of Michael Jackson” theme returns, this time mostly in the voice. It especially pops out at me with the pronunciation of "friend" as "fraynnnndah!". Unfortunately, rather than trying to imitate Jackson’s songwriting again, this song seems to want to rip off Stock Aitken Waterman. And it succeeds at that, too well, as it somehow manages to outcompete a song those writers wrote for Rick Astley to be the worst song with this title. Also returning here: the use of clips from the show to clumsily force an otherwise generic song to be Pokémon-related. Hooray.

11. Misty's Song

Huh. Now this one is interesting. Buried deep in the album, we get something from a character POV that doesn’t just set trivia or quotes from the show to music. Yvette Laboy does a believable job filling in as the singing counterpart for Rachel Lillis's speaking voice for Misty, and I just don't find it nearly as ridiculous as the other ballads on the album, for some reason. It even portrays a tsundere as insecure rather than just an obnoxious walking trope! Sure, it's not great, but it's not bad either, especially after the other attempted ballads on here. Until you remember that it's a 14-year-old singing a love song to a 10-year-old, which... ick. It could've been sweet if put in the mouth of another character with a more age-appropriate relationship. Anyone want to rerecord this as “Kaname's Song” or something?

12. PokéRAP

Oh, educational rap. Why? It’s just unbearably cheesy and doesn’t seem to have had much thought put into it, as a general rule. And this song is no exception. Sure, I guess it has value as a mnemonic exercise (and it does a decent job of that, as anyone who still has large chunks of it memorized can tell you), but no value as music. It often doesn’t even come close to rhyming where you’d expect it to, and it's obvious that Loeffler et al weren't sure what to do with a few of the names at all — Grimer and Chansey have egregious pauses after them, for example, and Omastar is stretched across space enough for two or three names for no good reason. It is broken into convenient-sized stanzas that are only somewhat awkwardly forced into the established meter, but that meter has a too-regular feel, bouncing like a musical Superball, that even I, someone with no particular knowledge of nor interest in rap, recognize as being cheesier than Vanilla Ice. It also hasn’t aged well. The sung parts have absolutely no dynamic range and stay at MAXIMUM DRAMA LEVEL at all times. Over the past 20 years, the lyrics have also become obsolete due to the many additional generations of Pokémon media and consequently much longer list of Pokémon to memorize. Those topics have been covered in excruciating detail by Brian David Gilbert, who is much cleverer than I am, and yes, I do highly recommend sitting through that entire half-hour video. All I can really add to that is, it's considerably less annoying than certain other mnemonic songs I was exposed to growing up. A bad song, unless you’re viewing it through sheer unfiltered silliness? Yes. A surprisingly catchy song that was a good marketing move? Also yes. And 20+ years later, I still can't avoid laughing at the way he says "Wartortle".

13. You Can Do It (If You Really Try)

The album could've gone out on that upbeat note, but no, they had to go for another overblown ballad, this time trying far too hard to be inspirational. The plus side is, it's not yet another generic 80s/90s pop song. The minus side is, it sounds like something that would be playing on the PA in a church thrift store. Or a fake ad on an episode of SNL. I do not feel empowered by this level of unironic encouragement. I just feel like my eyes are rolling so hard they'll fall out. Its only saving grace is that it’s somehow not the most irritating inspirational ballad from the late 90s that was used in connection with a geek-magnet TV show.

Overall... Although I want to describe the music as being "generic" — and it is full of the tiredest parts of 80s and 90s music, wandering from orchestra hits to record scratch noises to cutesy synthesizer "dings" to what seem to be several different singers' bad Michael Jackson impressions — some of it is actually interesting! See, no matter what impression you got from what I said above, I don’t categorically hate this style of music. I made multiple comparisons to songs from Thriller and Bad because I think most of the songs on those albums are examples of how to do this genre very well. But 2.B.A. Master doesn’t just lag because I’m comparing it to widely-beloved albums. Writing this review actually sent me introspecting for quite a while about what music I enjoy and why. And I realized, many of the cheesiest and most flawed aspects of this album are also present on less-acclaimed albums I enjoy very much, like the niche The Golden Age of Wireless by Thomas Dolby and the virtually-unknown Playgrounds ‘n’ Glass by Urban Blight. But, while Dolby’s music often has the same cheesy synthesizer voices and lack of dynamics or has weirdly melodramatic moments, it’s also often clearly experimenting with particular effects and techniques, and his lyrics have evocative images or stories that make the songs really engaging. And, while Urban Blight’s lyrics are often cliche-ridden or downright idiotic, the 80s/90s pop music instrumentation and style elements are varied and used with... for lack of a better term, more discretion, I guess?, which makes me feel like their songs are building to something musically. Well, except the song “Favorite Flavor”, which is just garbage.

The point is, while neither of those examples is a great album (at least not to my taste, which I freely admit colors this), they are both still good. Unfortunately, while some songs on 2.B.A. Master approach goodness, they are the exception, not the rule. Most of the music is simple and predictable and seem to use the more grating tropes of the time like orchestra hits and record-scratch noises just because they can, and most of the lyrics are less "song about Pokémon" and more "attempts at being vaguely inspirational with Pokémon references forced in uncomfortably". Some of the songs are enjoyable in a "this was an earnest attempt” and/or guilty pleasure sort of way (and I unironically like the B-52s, so believe me, I know "this was an earnest attempt” and/or guilty pleasure music), but there’s very little on here I’d actually call good. The best track here musically, “2B A Master”, is wasted on blah lyrics, and the one that most accomplishes the goal of being a song about Pokémon, “Double Trouble”, suffers greatly from its speaking-over-the-singers vocal performance. All I can say is, I’m glad I got this album used.

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W/A/S Scores: 3/0/7

Weeb: The lyrics require some prior specific knowledge of the Pokémon anime to not be completely baffling, but Pokémon is probably the most well-known and well-entrenched Japanese franchise on this side of the Pacific, and other than that, it’s decidedly American, or at least decidedly within the musical cultures of Western Europe and the Anglosphere.

Ass: No.

Shit: AAAAAAAAH. Okay, okay, no, seriously, there are a few good points, but it’s at best average-quality 90s pop with a veneer of Pokémon over the top.

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Oh Weird: While writing this and hunting down appropriate links, I was surprised to see how many uploads of, and even covers of, songs from this album there are on Youtube. I assumed this album was a more or less forgotten piece of bad 90s media, but apparently it’s one with a significant fanbase.

Oh Cool: Maddie Blaustein, the original English-language voice actress for Meowth was also a comic editor and writer for both Marvel and DC and the Creative Director for the Weekly World News. Oh, and she was intersex and, according to one of the sources cited by the Wikipedia article, bi.

Oh No: Educational rap is still a thing, and there are resources to make your own.

#weeaboo trash #album review #pokémon #Pokémon 2.B.A. Master

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