#too tired to take anything fancy its 1am but

[nabaath-areng]

För första gången på nära håll.

[moonnightyoongi]

yours | mark

love me like im never gonna leave, love me like im yours

word count: 2k

genre: angst (mainly), fluff, swearing (tehe)

a/n: just can’t stop thinkin of mark

based off the song yours | alina baraz

It had happened more than once, in fact you were definitely somewhere in the double digits but you couldn’t stop. Everything about him was intoxicating, the way he looked at you and the way he smiled at you, the smirk he had on his face when he would open the door to you - it was cocky and even though you hated it nothing could make you turn around and go back home. His voice was smooth and no matter what you asked him he never stuttered, there was a simple answer to everything. 

Except one question.

“What is this?”

You had asked him one night and you swear every single bit of colour he had in his body drained and he was left with his mouth open, small stutters coming out. You looked at him and realised what it was and what it always would be… sex. There was no hope of anything progressing past it so you simply shut your feelings off and continued to fuck him.

“Are you leaving?” He asks as you rolled out of the bed.

“Of course,” you reply searching for your dress, “I gotta get back to the wedding.”

“You already left, why do you need to go back?”

“Because my sister is so drunk she won’t remember giving me the go ahead to leave. Besides I have four missed calls from my mum and I don’t think using the excuse that I’m looking at her and waving is going to work at 1am.”

“Just stay here.”

“Why would I do that? I got a room in a 5 star hotel and a massage booked in the morning,” you frown.

“I want you to stay,” he says.

“Well I want a 5 star hotel room and a massage,” you fire back. His smile falls for a second before he looks out the window.

“Can I come with you?” He asks.

“I specifically remember you saying you never want to meet a family member or be my date to my sisters wedding,” you reply.

“I don’t, I wanna have sex in a 5 star hotel room,” he smirks. You look at him and roll your eyes, he was always so good at getting what he wanted out of you, you would move heaven and earth for him if he asked.

“Get dressed,” you sigh.

“Shall I put on my best trench coat?” He jokes.

“It’s cold, you won’t have a penis left if you do.”

He falls silent and looks at you, blinking harshly, ��You’re so crude sometimes.”

“Oh sorry, do you not like hearing about how your penis will shrivel up from the cold temperature?”

He laughs, “Sweatpants it is.””

“Jeans, it’s a 5 star hotel Mark. You can’t stroll in wearing sweatpants.”

“Oh, its the brush your hair before going down to breakfast kinda vibe?” He asks.

“Brush your teeth too,” you reply.

“Can’t have orange juice then.”

“It’s the price you pay to not be judged by Gary, 55, on a business trip.”

“Where do you get these names from?” He asks laughing and throwing on a clean t-shirt.

“They just come to me,” you reply, “Zip up my dress.”

“It’s a very pretty dress,” he says walking over to you, “Floor length gowns suit you.”

“I’m just glad she let me get a navy dress and not that God awful pink dress,” you tell him. You shudder at the thought of the dress, it was a bright pink that made your eyes sore, even the thought of it irritated your eyes again. Of course, it nearly was the dress you had to wear because the meter of the groom thought you looked absolutely delightful ‘like a strawberry cheesecake’. Last time you checked you weren’t a fucking dessert. 

Mark’s hand touched the bottom of your back as you moved your hair out the way to avoid it getting caught in the zipper (again). His touch was soft, like he was afraid he would break you (or the zipper). Zipping it up slowly, he paused halfway through - letting out a sigh.

“Ah yes, do take your time Mark, there’s only a 55 year old woman waiting to chop my balls off,” you say. He lets out a laugh and you feel his breath on your shoulders causing you to shiver, even his light touch was enough to drive you mad. All you wanted was him to be yours.

“Done,” he says obviously coming out of his trance and finishing your zipper quickly.

“Let’s go,” you tell him, “Uber’s nearly here.”

<—>

She was like a dog to a bone, as soon as the Uber pulled up in front of the hotel she was rushing down the stairs ready to pounce on you. Until she saw Mark get out of the car with you.

“Who is this?” Your mum asks surprised.

“My friend Mark,” you reply with an awkward smile. She stares at him before putting her hand out for him to shake.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he smiles.

“Where the fuck have you been?” She snaps looking at you, clearly breaking out of her Mark trance.

“With Mark, he needed me,” you say. It was partly true, he had needed you - just a different kind of need.

“I had locked myself out,” he says, “My roommates are all out and not answering their phones.”

“We tried to get in through an open window but he nearly dropped me,” you lie.

“That’s so you, even when you’re not the one navigating you get lost.”

“What?” You ask confused.

“Who knows, I asked your father to get me vodka and he got me whiskey. It’s my nonsense drink,” she dismisses, “He’s useless, all men are. Your poor sister, her husband is the worst. He tripped over a table cloth today, how could he miss it? The floor is brown and the cloth was fucking white, not to mention there was also a table underneath it.”

“Go to bed mum,” you cut in.

“Is Mark staying with you?” She asks.

“Yes.”

“You know the rules.”

“I can’t leave the door of the room open, anyone could come in.”

“Leave the bathroom door open,” she says turning on her heel.

“Wh-,” Mark begins.

You shake your head and cut him off, “Don’t question it, she’ll start another conversation that’ll last another 10 minutes and I haven’t got it in me to de-code her.”

“Are you the same on whiskey?” Mark asks as you both walk up the steps of the hotel.

“Gin!” Your mother shouts, “Gin is her mumbling drink. On her birthday last year she started to recite the whole script from the film The Bee Movie. I don’t know know where she learnt it, we were always such Shrek people.”

“What is going on?” Mark asks, eyes raised.

“Don’t ask,” you reply, “Where’s your room mum? We’ll walk you.’

“Don’t be silly, there’s your father. FATHER!” She shouts, “Wait he’s not my father, MICK!”

“Who the fuck is Mick?” You ask her, “Dad! Take her, she’s driving me insane.”

You walk her over to him and he smiles weakly, “She’s been watching a lot of shows lately, Mick is one of the characters.”

“You hope,” you smile before walking back over to Mark, “Let’s get to the room quick, she might start reciting Shrek.”

“Donkey!” You hear her shout as you run up the staircase to the floor you were on.

“It’s begun,” you say looking at him. He laughs loudly as you walk down the hallway to the room you would be staying in. 

“Fancy,” he says kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his jeans. He looked around intently while all you could do was stare at him, he looked beautiful even with his messy hair and tired eyes. Part of you was so glad he asked if he could come, you didn’t want to leave him - well, ever.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks snapping you out of your daydream.

“My mum,” you lie.

“She’s really funny.”

“Lucky for you she’s so drunk she won’t remember she met you tomorrow,” you say throwing the room key on the desk.

“I don’t mind if she does,” he says walking into the room.

You smile awkwardly once more and lean against the desk, unsure of what move to make. You normally knew what you were going to do when you saw Mark - but this felt like alien territory. Would you lie next to him? Turn the TV on and watch shitty morning television shows? Or would you simply sleep 2 feet apart?

“Come here,” Mark says putting his hands out for you to take.

“What do you want?” You ask accepting them and letting him pull you towards him.

“What are you really thinking?”

“About what to do.”

“We could just relax and watch TV, order some room service?”

“That sounds really nice,” you smile.

<—>

Less than hour later you both sat on the bed eating ribs and watching some stupid quiz show. Everyone answer you shouted was wrong of course, how did people know these things? How didn’t you know these things? 

Times like this felt nice, it was just you two doing normal things together. It wasn’t some quick hook up then ended with you leaving after it was done and feeling shit as you walked out the door, him not even batting an eyelid at you.

“How do people know these things?” Mark asks.

“That’s what I was thinking,” you reply throwing the rib bone on the plate and sighing, “I ate too much.”

“You don’t need to get back into the dress, you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be bloated for my massage tomorrow.”

“She’ll deflate you,” he jokes.

“He’ll,” you correct.

“A male massage therapist, lucky you.”

“Hm, he’ll apply more pressure,” you say lying down and rubbing your eyes.

“Can I admit something to you?” He asks.

“You always wanted to be a massage therapist?” You joke.

“No,” he laughs moving to lie down next to you, “I really enjoy your company.”

“I bet you do.”

“No, I mean your company. Like that night we played games and the winner got oral,” he says, “I like doing those things with you.”

“Cause’ you always win and get oral,” you tell him. 

He looks at you seriously before looking down, “Yeah, because I always win.”

You almost didn’t believe him till the smirk reappeared on his face seconds later, “Wanna play a game?”

“Goodnight Mark,” you groan turning over.

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispers.

You never wanted it to be morning. You wanted to stay in this moment with him. You wanted to feel his body heat next to you forever, you wanted to stay up late doing stupid mundane things with him.

You wanted him to be yours.

masterlist

[calumcest]

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - chapter seven

[ao3]

did i just pull this entire chapter out of my arse tonight? maybe! not that i don’t write these chapters all in one sitting at like 9pm-1am every single time don’t get it twisted i’m not organised i am a binge-writer

i always do my long ass a/ns on ao3 i dont know why feels more REVEALING to do them here because i know people actually read them and i think probably one person on the whole planet has ever read my ao3 a/ns its a safe haven so i’m just going to say my brief thank yous: thank you to @clumsyclifford for literally everything you do always, thank you to @ashesonthefloor for listening too me bitch about this fic and having the most wonderful thoughts and ideas about it, thank you to @kaleidoscopeminds for motivating me to keep writing this fic w your kind words, thank you to @allsassnoclass for always being so wise and understanding of authors dilemmas and encouraging me w your lovely words, and thank you to my spoiler anon for being so lovely about this fic and holyverse and also for asking about another chapter because i swear to u i would have kept putting it off were it not for u. also big thank you to noel and liam gallagher for writing the SMASH hits i wrote this entire chapter to and for being [redacted] and also to richard madden because i just fancy him and feel like i should thank him for existing and allowing me to perceive him 

It’s a twin room, thank God, because Luke would have rather slept in the hallway than shared a bed with Ashton for four weeks. 

“I’m taking the window bed,” he announces, before Ashton has a chance to say anything, out of pure spite, because he knows Ashton likes sleeping by the window. Or knew, maybe. He’s not sure anymore. 

Ashton opens and then closes his mouth, nods curtly, and puts his carry-on bag on the bed nearest the bathroom. Luke puts Clifford down on the bed first, muttering at him to stop fucking yapping (which Clifford, of course, ignores), and then drops his suitcases next to it with a sigh. 

“So,” Ashton says, and his voice fills the entire room, too loud and too much, a jarring reminder that Ashton’s here, in Luke’s space, and Luke’s got no option but to live with it. “Should we go out?” Luke blinks at him. 

“What?” he says. 

“Well,” Ashton says, with an uncomfortable shrug. “Study doesn’t start ‘til tomorrow, and it’s only nine. Thought we could spend the day exploring?” Luke stares at him. 

“Think I’d rather spend my last day of freedom alone,” he says, a little harshly. Ashton blinks, and Luke doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses his face, but then he nods again. 

“Have you still got my UK number?” he says, and Luke hesitates, and then nods. He’s not sure why it feels like he’s giving something away by admitting that he’d never deleted Ashton’s numbers; he’d been the one to text Ashton about the tattoos first, so clearly Ashton already knows that Luke still had his Australian number, at least. “Well. Text me if you need anything?” 

“Don’t think I’ll need anything,” Luke says, and Ashton sighs, and Luke feels a little small, a little stupid, like Ashton’s a patient parent putting up with a melodramatic teenager. 

“I’m going to head off, then,” Ashton says, a touch awkwardly, and Luke just nods, busying himself with getting Clifford out of his travel cage, thinking he’ll ask at reception for directions to the nearest park and let Clifford stretch his legs. He steadfastly doesn’t look at Ashton as Ashton gathers his things together, patting his coat pocket to make sure he’s got everything, and then slips out of the room, door clicking shut behind him. 

As soon as Ashton’s left, Luke suddenly feels simultaneously relieved and overwhelmed. He feels like he can breathe a little easier, think a little clearer without Ashton in his personal space, making him feel like he has to be alert, on edge, but the hotel room feels strangely empty without him. Luke shakes his head, tries to get the latter thought out of his mind, focusing on Clifford’s insistent yaps to draw him back to reality and distract him. 

“Alright, little man, we’re going,” Luke mutters, fumbling around in his bag for Clifford’s lead. Clifford jumps around at his feet, already panting, and Luke rolls his eyes, clips the lead on, checks he’s got his room key and phone in his pocket and heads out of the room. 

He decides to take the stairs, since he doesn’t think Clifford’s got the patience to wait for the lift, which proves to be the right decision when Clifford’s straining at his lead trying to bound down the stairs, giving Luke reproachful looks whenever he tugs him back. They’re only on the second floor, so it’s not long before Luke’s back in the lobby, and Clifford finally pulls himself together and trots smartly at Luke’s heel, giving other people milling in the area imperious looks as they pass. 

“Hi,” Luke says, and the receptionist smiles politely up at him. “I’d like to walk my dog. Can you tell me where the nearest park is?” She nods. 

“Of course, sir,” she says, and pulls out a brochure. Luke mentally pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s going to look like a massive fucking tourist walking around with one of those. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get mugged. 

“You just need to turn left out of the hotel, take a right at the end of the road, take the second left after that, take two rights, and you’ll be at the park,” she says, trailing her pen across the streets and ending it with a flourish, circling a rectangle of green on the map and smiling at him again. Luke smiles back, having taken absolutely none of that in, thanks her, pockets the map and decides he’ll probably just walk around the nearby backstreets for a while until Clifford’s worn out to lower his chances of getting lost. 

Clifford, it turns out, is surprisingly tired, having apparently spent all of his energy on pestering Luke to take him out. He only manages about half an hour of walking up and down a few streets around the hotel before he’s flagging, sitting down and staring up at Luke beseechingly when Luke tries to pull him along. A passing couple throw Luke an amused look and titter to themselves, and Luke sighs. 

“C’mon, little man,” he says, tugging again. Clifford refuses to budge, just stares up at Luke with a look that Luke knows all too well. “Come on, Cliff, you’re embarrassing me. It’s two streets away. You can walk that far.” Clifford stays put, and Luke rolls his eyes, but bends down and scoops Clifford up into his arms. Clifford immediately nuzzles into Luke happily, licking at his neck, and Luke pulls back, wrinkling his nose. “Gross, Cliff, don’t do that.” 

Luke pretty much speedwalks back to the hotel because little though Clifford is, he’s surprisingly heavy after a while, and Luke’s much weaker than he looks. He throws the receptionist a polite smile on his way back up to the room, unclips Clifford from the lead as soon as he’s in there and rummages around in one of his suitcases for the bed Michael had shoved on top of all of Luke’s warmest clothes. Clifford watches him patiently, and hops into the bed as soon as Luke’s unfolded it, curls up and closes his eyes. Luke can’t help but smile fondly down at him, bending down to press a kiss to the top of Clifford’s head and scratching behind his ears. 

“I’m going to go out again, little man,” he tells Clifford. “I’ll be back to give you your dinner, though.” Clifford just sniffs, which Luke takes to mean ‘yeah, sure, now fuck off and let me sleep’, and Luke straightens again, throws Clifford one final fond look and heads back out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. 

He decides it’s probably fine if he wanders aimlessly, since the brochure in his pocket has the name of the hotel on it and Michael had paid for his phone plan to cover the UK for six weeks so he can look it up when he inevitably gets lost. Having spent half an hour in the streets surrounding the hotel already, he decides to get on the tube and head somewhere new, picking a stop name he recognises - Leicester Square sounds vaguely familiar. 

Leicester Square, it turns out, sounds familiar because it’s a tourist hotspot. Luke’s ducking and weaving between people, mumbling apologies as he slips through gaps that he doesn’t actually fit through and splits up groups (but seriously, he thinks, slightly irritated as he smiles politely, who the fuck walks in a row of five?). There are countless little side alleys and back roads leading off the main street, but even those are difficult to walk through, filled with the native Londoners who know their way through the labyrinth of twisting streets and know better than to be anywhere near Leicester Square in the first place. 

Eventually, half to get out of the crowds and half because he’s actually pretty hungry, Luke ducks into a Costa and buys himself a ham and cheese toastie, balking at the price when the cashier rings it up. Five fucking pounds, what’s that, ten dollars? For one sandwich? Fucking hell. He’s definitely going to be demanding those reimbursements from the university. 

He’s waiting for his sandwich to come out of the toaster, only two baristas serving a queue of at least twenty, when someone taps him on the shoulder a little tentatively, making him jump. He whips around, wondering whether he’s in the way or something, and comes face to face with-

Ashton. 

“Are you serious?” he demands, before he can think about it. Ashton shrugs, and looks a little uncomfortable. “Are you following me?” 

“I was already here,” Ashton says. “I’ve got a table.” He waves his hand in the directions of an empty table in the far corner, and Luke can see Ashton’s coat bunched up on one of the chairs. 

“Oh,” Luke says. Ashton gives him a look, simultaneously sad and calculating, and for a brief moment, Luke thinks fuck, his eyes are pretty. Jesus Christ. Maybe he should have stayed at the hotel and napped. 

“D’you want to sit with me?” Ashton says. Luke hesitates - not particularly , is the first petulant thought to cross his mind, before his rational side kicks in and tells him sleepily that he won’t find a seat anywhere else - and then nods. 

“Ham and cheese toastie?” the barista calls, and Luke steps forwards, takes it from her hand and heads wordlessly in the direction of Ashton’s table, Ashton in tow. 

“Sorry,” Ashton says, when Luke picks up Ashton’s coat off the seat and holds it out for him. He takes it from Luke and his finger brushes against Luke’s, and something like liquid gold rushes through Luke, making him giddy from head to toe. It’s the sleeplessness, he tells himself, averting his gaze and snatching his hand away. God knows he’s felt even more unexplainable things on the same amount of sleep. 

“‘S alright,” Luke says, sitting down to avoid thinking about the warmth of Ashton’s finger brushing against his own and the way his finger is still burning from the contact. “You didn’t know I was going to be here.” Ashton hesitates, and then busies himself with tucking his coat behind him, like he’s looking for something to do that isn’t stare across the table at Luke. Luke’s not going to complain about that, and takes a bite out of the first half of the toastie so he won’t have to say anything else. 

They sit in silence for a moment, Luke eating his toastie, Ashton fiddling with the bracelet on his left hand. The silence is uncomfortable, oppressive, and Luke kind of wishes he’d just sat on the fucking floor or something. Nothing makes him wish that more, though, than when Ashton opens his mouth and says: “I wondered.” 

Luke swallows his last bite of toastie with a frown. 

“You wondered what?” he says. Ashton shrugs, tension and discomfort visible in the movement. 

“I wondered whether we’d bump into each other,” he says. Luke rolls his eyes. 

“Not this again,” he mutters, but it’s more tired than anything. Ashton sighs, and drops his hands onto the table. 

“Look,” he says carefully. “I don’t think us bumping into each other all the time is a coincidence.” 

“Fucking hell,” Luke says, but there’s no heat behind the words. He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes and squeezes them shut. He’s too fucking tired for this.  

“Luke,” Ashton says, like Luke’s being unreasonable. “We’ve lived in the same city for years-” Luke opens his mouth to interrupt, because Ashton was always away half the time when they were together, and he can’t imagine that’s changed much “-okay, on-off, because I’m in LA sometimes - but we’ve not once bumped into each other. Then we get the tattoos, and suddenly I’m seeing you every other week?” 

“What’s your point?” Luke says, a little irritably. “You think this is some grand plan from the universe to make us fall back in love? What, I’m Cathy, you’re Heathcliff?” Ashton bites his lip, and Luke’s mouth twists bitterly in a humourless smile. “This isn’t fucking romantic, Ashton. You leaving me was-” he cuts himself off. He’s not quite ready to tell Ashton that , yet. “Awful,” he says, eventually. “This isn’t part of some, like, big romantic redemption arc for you. You fucked up, and you fucked me over, and we’ve just got to find some way to live with the tattoos. That’s why we’re both here, isn’t it?” Ashton’s silent for a moment, and if Luke’s not mistaken, looks a little paler than he had a minute ago, and then nods. 

“Can we at least be civil?” Ashton says, and then, seeing the look on Luke’s face, adds: “We’re stuck together for four weeks, Luke. I know you don’t like me, and I’m not asking for- for friendship, or anything. I’m just asking for you to be civil with me.” Luke exhales heavily. 

“Fine,” he says tiredly, before he has the chance to think too much about it. “Civil.” 

“Civil,” Ashton agrees. 

(Luke’s pretty sure civil doesn’t involve thinking God, I’d forgotten how long his eyelashes are, and the way you can see a hint of his dimple when he speaks, but he’s also pretty sure that’s entirely to do with the exhaustion, and nothing to do with him.) 

  -------

  Ashton talks Luke into going down to the Houses of Parliament, with a combination of a sincere look on his face, big, serious eyes as he says look, we don’t want to risk another bumping-into-each-other tattoo, and it’ll just be civil, and the fact that Luke just doesn’t have the energy to argue. Plus, he thinks, Ashton seems to know where he’s going, and Luke had forgotten to take his charger with him so he’s kind of fucked if he gets lost. 

The walk down from Costa to the Houses of Parliament is only about twenty minutes, but feels so much fucking longer, both of them all too aware of the awkward silence hanging between them, amplified by the noise of the city surrounding them. They walk through Trafalgar Square, and Ashton tells Luke something about art installations and the fourth plinth and Luke just nods along, trying his best to do this whole civil thing by quelling his instinct to snap I don’t fucking know what a plinth is and you know full fucking well I don’t care about art. Ashton seems to sense it from him anyway, though, because he falters and then says, with an uncomfortable laugh, “You probably don’t care about this anyway.” 

“Not really,” Luke admits, because they’d said civil, not dishonest. Ashton smiles wryly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he says, and Luke just hums, and they fall back into an awkward silence. 

It’s easier, Luke finds, when a man in a suit shoulders into him and keeps walking without so much as a mumbled apology and Ashton turns to him, outraged, and says Londoners really are cunts, if they interact with each other through their surroundings. Talking about people, things, even the fucking weather, adds a sheen of superficiality, a layer of removal that they can both look at and pretend there’s nothing more to it, no years of hurt and pain bubbling beneath the surface. 

“How is it this sunny yet this cold?” Luke grumbles, shielding his eyes and squinting up at Big Ben. 

“You should be here in April,” Ashton says, stabbing the button at the traffic light repeatedly. 

“I’ve got no intentions of being here any longer than I have to be,” Luke mutters. “What are we looking at, again?” 

“It’s parliament, Luke,” Ashton says, like that’s supposed to mean something to Luke. 

“So?” Luke says. “We’ve got a parliament.” 

“And? Have you ever seen it?” Ashton says shrewdly, and Luke scowls, biting back the scathing retort on the tip of his tongue. Civil and Ashton are two concepts that he assumes will take a while to marry in his mind. 

“Whatever,” he says, stepping out into the road as the light turns green. “Just don’t get why I’m supposed to care about some random country’s government, is all.” Ashton doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that, jogging to catch up with Luke, and they walk the rest of the distance to the buildings in silence. 

It’s quite imposing, Luke thinks, up close. The buildings are sort of dirty - or maybe they’re meant to look like that - and incredibly intricate, bordering on fussy. It towers over them, looking more like a palace than a place of governance, Big Ben casting a long shadow across the road. He’s not sure he’d want to be governed from this place.

“I don’t like it,” he says. 

“Really?” Ashton says, squinting up at the buildings. “I think it’s kind of pretty.” You would, Luke thinks darkly. Old, ornate and overcomplicated? That’s exactly the kind of thing Ashton would get excited about and find unwarranted symbolism in. 

“Yeah, well,” Luke says instead, because he’s pretty sure that thought doesn’t count as civil. “Think it’s just a bit too elaborate.” 

“It’s Gothic Revival,” Ashton says, like Luke’s supposed to have a single fucking clue what that means. Actually, Luke thinks bitterly, he’s probably fully aware that Luke doesn’t have any idea what that means, and is hoping Luke will take the bait and ask so Ashton can demonstrate his massive intellect, or whatever. 

“Right,” Luke says, a little shortly. Ashton glances at him, looking a touch taken aback, but then looks back at the buildings. 

“We can go somewhere else,” he says, and it’s an offer. An olive branch. 

“Yeah,” Luke says, because annoyance at not knowing anything about architectural styles aside, looking at an old building is just pretty fucking boring. 

“There’s an aquarium not too far away,” Ashton says. “I remember you-” he stops himself, and Luke swallows. Yeah. He loves aquariums. He loves them so much that Ashton had taken him to the Sydney Aquarium for their third anniversary, a month or two before he’d broken up with Luke. 

(Two months on the dot. Not that Luke has both dates seared into his mind, or anything.) 

“Yeah,” Luke says again, to fill the silence of both of them thinking back to that day. “Let’s go to the aquarium.” Ashton hesitates, and glances at Luke like he wants to say something else, a sort of semi-pained expression on his face, and then he sighs, shakes his head, and throws Luke a tight smile. 

“Let’s go to the aquarium,” he agrees. 

  -------

  The aquarium, it turns out, is a much better choice. 

Despite the odd screaming child, the aquarium has a calming silence to it, an almost pensive quiet that pierces to the depths of Luke’s soul. It settles the air between him and Ashton, means they’re not silent for lack of civil things to say, but rather because they’re both caught up in the muted beauty of the ocean. 

They don’t walk together, because Ashton likes to pore over every single placard and study every creature in minute detail and Luke’s drawn to the pretty, colourful fish. It’s Luke, though, who’s always the last to move on, and Ashton waits for him before they head to the next room. It’s almost nice, Luke thinks, as he heads for the door and sees Ashton slip through it when he sees Luke’s ready to move on, that they don’t have to have awkward conversations about it, that they can just understand and fall into it. 

(He tries not to think about why.) 

They spend hours in the aquarium, dawdling in every room, because they spent so much fucking money on it and they’re both going to be damned if they won’t milk it for all it’s worth. Luke spends an extra long time looking at the clownfish, for some reason, hypnotised by the way they can weave in and out of the anemones. There’s some kind of symbolism to be found there, he thinks, something about toxicity and safety, but he’s too tired to come up with it himself. Ashton would probably correct him if he tried, anyway. 

Ashton’s particularly taken by the sharks, it turns out. He’s already staring at the huge tank in awe when Luke gets into the room, barely even blinking as his eyes follow one shark after the other. The room itself is dark, like the rest of the aquarium, but the tank’s so huge that Ashton’s bathed in light, rippling and shimmering and Luke, for the briefest of moments, feels something sharp stab at his heart, something he remembers feeling the last time he’d stood in an aquarium with Ashton. It makes his stomach clench, twist in on itself, because he knows exactly what he’d identified that feeling as before. 

“They’re fucking beautiful, aren’t they?” Ashton says, interrupting Luke’s train of thought before it can take the leap off the cliff edge of panic, and Luke looks up at the sharks. 

“I guess?” he says, because he doesn’t really see it. 

“You used to like them,” Ashton says, sounding a little surprised. 

“I used to like a lot of things,” Luke says. I used to like you, he adds spitefully in his head, and sort of hopes Ashton’s telepathic. 

“Guess I’ve got to get to know you again,” Ashton says, and it’s a little wistful, a little sad. Luke doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know what would sum up I’m not sure I want you to, I don’t think I’ll give you a chance and Good fucking luck in a civil way. 

They stand there for a while, watching the sharks, and people filter in and out of the room behind them. It feels oddly hypnotic, being stood there with Ashton, the only two static parts of a moving whole. He wonders if the sharks feel the same, swimming aimlessly in their tank, watching the world pass by and powerless to move with it. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says quietly, after at least ten minutes have passed. It’s so quiet that Luke thinks he might have misheard it - maybe it was the family behind them, or just the sound of the tank - but he can sense Ashton stiffen next to him, like he’s preparing for backlash of some sort. 

“What?” Luke says, just to make sure he’s heard right. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashton repeats. Luke pauses, waiting for Ashton to elaborate, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t really have to, though, Luke finds, because he knows what Ashton means. 

“I know,” Luke says eventually. Ashton swallows, but says nothing, just carries on gazing at the sharks, but out of the corner of his eye Luke can see that Ashton’s gaze is fixed now, not following the sharks around.

They stand in silence until an announcement blares through the system telling them that the aquarium is closing soon, making them both jump. 

“What time is it?” Luke asks, just for something to say. 

“Uh,” Ashton says, pulling his phone out. “Five.” Fucking hell. It feels much later than that. “Do you want to go back to the hotel?” Ashton adds, like he knows what Luke’s thinking. Luke nods. 

“I’m fucking exhausted,” he admits, as they head back up the steps away from the sharks and towards the exit. 

“Me too,” Ashton says. “I wanted to stay up until at least ten, but…” he trails off, stifling a yawn, and Luke can’t help but snort. Ashton smiles, small but genuine. “Fuck off,” he says, but it’s good-natured. 

“Yeah,” Luke says, as they traipse out into the little shop. “Think I’m just going to crash when we get back.” Ashton nods, pushing open the door to the exit. Luke’s expecting the glare of brilliant sunlight to hit him, squints in preparation for the onslaught of light, but it’s pitch fucking black. 

“What the fuck?” he says, sounding kind of perplexed and kind of outraged. 

“What?” Ashton says. Luke gestures up at the sky with one hand, and uses the other to pull his coat in closer towards himself, because fucking hell, it’s freezing.  

“It’s five o’clock,” he says. Ashton looks up at the sky, and then at him, an amused expression on his face. 

“Wrong hemisphere,” he says, and Luke rolls his eyes. 

“Fucking miserable place,” Luke grumbles, tucking his arms in and huddling in on himself. “No wonder they invaded the rest of the fucking world, Jesus. I wouldn’t want to stay here either.” Ashton says nothing, but when they pass under a streetlight, Luke sees the corners of his lips tilted upwards, and something warm and pleasant spreads from his stomach outwards. 

“D’you actually know where you’re going?” he asks, when Ashton takes a sharp right turn onto a bridge. 

“Of course I know,” Ashton says, in that infuriating, I’m-Ashton-Irwin-and-I’m-an-intellectual manner that Luke had never liked. Luke rolls his eyes, not entirely playfully, and jogs to keep up with him. 

Ashton leads them across the bridge, past the parliament buildings again, up a long road that a lot of people are ambling down, and then cuts into a small alley on the right. 

“You definitely don’t fucking know where you’re going,” Luke says, standing at the mouth of the road, something uneasy in his stomach. “I’m not going down here.” 

“I know where I’m going,” Ashton says. 

“Where are you going?” Luke says sceptically. 

“Charing Cross.” 

“Why is that down an alleyway?” 

“It’s just a shortcut.” Luke stares at him, narrowing his eyes. 

“Why can’t we walk on the main road?” he asks, because it feels right. Something about the alleyway feels wrong. 

“We can,” Ashton says. “But it’ll take longer.” Luke makes no indications of moving, and Ashton sighs, and it’s tinged with sadness. “Come on, Luke, are you serious? You think I’m going to, what, murder you in an alley in London?” Well. Not specifically, but something’s telling Luke not to follow Ashton into that alley. Much more than that, it’s telling him not to let Ashton into that alley, but Luke’s trying to ignore that part of it. 

“I just don’t want to go that way,” Luke says stubbornly. “Let’s just go on the main road.” 

“It’ll take much longer that way,” Ashton says. 

“I don’t care,” Luke says. “We’re not exactly fucking wanting for time, are we?” Ashton takes a step further into the alleyway, almost out of Luke’s line of vision. 

“Come on , Luke,” he says, and takes another step, and Luke’s stomach tightens uncomfortably as he does. 

“Don’t,” Luke says, before he can stop himself. 

“Why?” Ashton says, sounding exasperated. “Look, the longer you stand here arguing, the longer it’ll take us either way.” 

“I’m taking the main road,” Luke says. “Just- let’s fucking walk on the main road.” 

“You don’t even know the way,” Ashton says. “I know the way.” 

“I’m not going that way.” Even in the darkness and despite the distance, Luke can see Ashton roll his eyes. 

“There’s nothing fucking down here, Luke,” Ashton calls, taking another step into the alleyway, and Luke edges forwards without even thinking about it, needing to keep Ashton in sight. It’s not really working, though, because Ashton’s walking further in and Luke’s at an angle to the alleyway, and it’s making him panic a little.

“Don’t fucking go down there,” Luke says, through gritted teeth. “Ashton, seriously. Just fucking come on the main road with me.” 

“What’s your problem?” Ashton says, and even though he sounds genuinely surprised and curious, it makes a flash of anger flare up in Luke. 

“Can you stop being a cunt for, like, two fucking minutes?” he bites out. 

“Luke, I-” Ashton cuts himself off with a shout, and the anger’s gone, replaced with pure fucking fear and panic and protect protect protect running through Luke’s mind, and Luke’s barely even aware of his surroundings as he takes off, sprinting as fast as he can to the alleyway, getting to the entrance to it just as Ashton comes running out, wild-eyed. He doesn’t stop or say anything, just grabs Luke’s hand as he passes and tugs him hard in the opposite direction. They run to the main road, Luke’s heart pounding in a way that definitely isn’t just from the exercise, and then they run up it, and they don’t stop running until they’re outside the station. Luke doesn’t even realise that they’re still holding hands until Ashton drops his hand to lean on his knees, panting, hair completely windswept as it falls into his eyes. 

“What the fuck was that?” Luke spits, fury beginning to set in between the racing heartbeats and gasped breaths. 

“Someone fucking-” Ashton waves a hand, like it’s going to explain what ‘someone’ did. It doesn’t fucking matter, because those two words alone are enough to make Luke’s heart tighten, to make his stomach clench

“I fucking said-”

“I know, but it’s fucking five p.m., and I always go that way-”

“I told you-”

“I know, Luke,” Ashton says, breathing almost back to normal, and he straightens and gives Luke a look that looks almost sad. “Why d’you think that was?” 

“Why do I- are you fucking insane? Because it’s a creepy fucking alleyway? Anyone would fucking know not to go down there!” Luke says, throwing his hands in the air. 

“You were so fucking adamant,” Ashton says. 

“Yeah, and if you’d fucking listened-” 

“Luke,” Ashton interrupts. “I didn’t sense fucking anything.” Luke stops.

“Are you trying to say this is another fucking soulmate experience?” he says. “We don’t have three. Most people don’t even have one. ” 

“No,” Ashton says. “I think it’s the same one. The first one. The protecting one.” 

Oh. 

Oh.  

It’s kind of a blur already, even though it’s only been like, three minutes, but Luke remembers the haze of protect protect protect that clouded every single other one of his thoughts, that stopped anything and everything else - including his own safety - from mattering, that made him move without even thinking, running straight fucking into the alleyway he’d been so uneasy about because nothing mattered more than Ashton. 

“Fuck,” he says, and Ashton nods grimly. 

“Yeah,” he says. Neither of them need to say didn’t realise it went both ways, because it’s both written clearly across their faces. 

“You got this on the fucking phone?” Luke can’t help but ask. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says again. Luke rakes a hand through his hair, trying to organise his thoughts. All he can really focus on is the what the fuck and Jesus Christ and fucking hell swirling around in a mess in his mind. 

“Well,” he says. “Shit.” Ashton huffs out a shaky laugh, raises his eyebrows, and nods, and Luke thinks that about sums it up. 

  -------

  They don’t talk much on the journey back to the hotel. Luke snipes at Ashton when Ashton tries to show him how to use his contactless card on the barriers, because he’d much rather use a paper ticket, thank you very fucking much, and Ashton calls Luke back when he heads down the wrong escalator. Luke asks once what their stop is and nods when Ashton answers him, and then they don’t speak again until they’re in the safety of the brightly-lit hotel lobby. 

Luke’s not entirely sure how to take the silence between them in the lift up to the second floor. It still feels awkward, stilted, uncomfortable, but there’s something grander now, something bigger than the both of them that they can both feel but neither of them want to acknowledge. 

Luke fusses over Clifford when they get back into the hotel room, pulls out the pack of dog food he’d brought with him because he hadn’t been sure what brands the UK would have, and Clifford munches his dinner happily while Luke carefully removes his coat and plugs his phone in to charge, not looking at Ashton. It feels overcrowded, even though the room is made for two people and certainly big enough to accommodate both of them. 

He takes his time washing up Clifford’s bowl, refilling his water, but Clifford seems perfectly content to doze back off to sleep after his meal, leaving Luke with nothing to do but think about how fucking tired he actually is. 

“I think I might sleep,” he says, even though he doesn’t really have to announce it to Ashton. Ashton looks up from where he is on his bed, book in his hand, and nods. 

“I think I might too,” he says. “Do you want the bathroom first?” Luke blinks at him. 

“Oh,” he says. “Uh. Yeah. Thanks.” Ashton nods, and turns back to his book, but when Luke turns his back to get his things out of his still-packed suitcase, he can feel Ashton’s eyes on him. 

He makes quick work of putting his pyjamas on and brushing his teeth, only hesitating with his hand on the bathroom door handle to leave as he throws a quick glance at himself in the mirror, because he looks so fucking disarmed in his pyjamas, so strangely small and vulnerable. Whatever, he thinks, forcing himself to push the door open, because what the fuck else is he going to do, sleep in the bathroom? 

“Bathroom’s free,” he says, because it feels like what he should say, turning his back to Ashton and making a show out of putting his clothes in his suitcase. He should probably just unpack it, he thinks - he is going to be here for four weeks, after all - but not tonight. He’s too fucking tired for that. 

“Thanks,” Ashton says, and Luke hears the sound of a book closing and then feet shuffling as Ashton heads for the bathroom. He waits for the door to click shut behind him before tucking himself into bed, drawing the duvet close to his chin to try and keep the cold out. Why the fuck is it so cold in England, seriously? 

Ashton doesn’t take long, or maybe Luke falls into microsleep, or something, because it feels like it’s about two seconds before he’s coming out of the bathroom, placing his clothes on the chair opposite his bed, and getting into bed. He’s got plaid pyjama bottoms and a casual t-shirt on, and he looks just as disarmed and vulnerable as Luke had in the mirror, which makes Luke feel simultaneously better and worse. 

“Can I turn the light off?” Ashton asks, and Luke nods. Ashton reaches over, clicks the light switch, and they’re plunged into darkness. 

“Night,” Ashton says after a moment, and there’s a shuffling sound from his bed. 

“Night,” Luke says, suddenly wide awake. He rolls onto his side and stares at the wall opposite him, willing the exhaustion that he’s felt all day to return. Even if he hadn’t slept, like, three fucking hours, he should be tired; it’s the middle of the night in Sydney. 

He feels the time passing, times it by Ashton’s shuffling and Clifford’s even breathing and the noises from the street outside, and he’s sure it’s been at least an hour before there’s what sounds like Ashton flopping onto his back and sighing. 

“Are you awake?” he whispers. Luke debates saying nothing, but knows if he evens his breathing out now it’s going to be pretty fucking obvious he wasn’t. 

“Yeah,” he says, a little reluctantly. 

“I can’t sleep,” Ashton says. 

“Me either.” There’s a moment of silence, and then Ashton says- 

“We could push the beds together?” Luke squeezes his eyes shut, and Ashton takes the silence as hesitation. “Just for tonight. We’d sleep much better, and we probably need it for tomorrow.” 

“No,” Luke says. Civil is one thing, but spending an entire night pressed up against Ashton? That’s something else entirely. 

“Luke, I-” 

“Ashton, I said no.” Ashton’s silent for a moment, and then sighs. 

“Okay,” he says, and it sounds a little small. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, like. Push.” Luke inhales deeply, exhales heavily, and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“It’s fine,” he says. 

Ashton says nothing, but Luke doesn’t hear his breathing even out until Luke himself falls into an uneasy, dreamless sleep, and when he wakes up in the morning, exhausted and grumpy, Ashton’s staring up at the ceiling again (or maybe still).

taglist: @sadistmichael @callmeboatboy @clumsyclifford @angel-cal @queer-5sos @haikucal @tirednotflirting @cthofficial @tigerteeff @i-am-wierd-always

if you want to be added to my taglist pls fill in this form!

[foolishlovebugbaby]

ten-thousand miles gone

prologue

summary: they say time heals all wounds, but the one left by han jisung on your heart is one that you still treat tenderly. alternatively; han jisung reappears into your life like a whirlwind, knocking you off of your feet, after leaving you without a goodbye.

genre: angst

warnings: nothing triggering or rated

word count: 6k

note: in my head, the mind map of the way this particular fic ended went in so many directions, but this was very draining to write so i settled on the one that wouldn’t leave you hanging. 

been travelling these wide roads for so long my heart’s been far from you ten-thousand miles gone

In your younger years, life had always seemed to move gradually. Time seemed to be muffled by all the firsts and seconds that came and went like waves, distracting everyone from the reality of growing pains. But college certainly ripped off that bandaid, a cushion no longer supporting your fall into the harsh realities of life. 

Second semester of sophomore year had just ended, so now every college student across the country was making a beeline for the airports and bus stations, with tickets home clasped tightly between hands that were potentially developing carpal tunnel syndrome. Luckily for you, home was two train rides and a taxicab away. But like all your independent adventures of navigating life unhinged, no journey would be complete without twenty-something voicemails from your mother telling you to padlock your luggage and some vague, superstitious advice she read on Facebook. 

[To ma: yes, i didnt forget to pack your scarf and no, im not going to drink ginger and ginseng to ward off bad train spirits.]

[From ma: thank you. suit yourself , you will be bad spirit magnet !]

You chuckle and shove your phone into your pocket, hailing a cab with one hand while the other slings an abnormally large duffle bag over your shoulder. “North-Hill train station please.” You say to the cab driver and shove your luggage into the seat next to you. 

You let out a tired sigh and slump into the pleather seats. Butterflies swarmed your stomach- you always seemed to get them whenever you went back home. Back to the place of some of your greatest and worst memories. Somehow, through the years, the fear of seeing him again in that godforsaken town died down, because the thought of ever being able to see him again at all proved itself to be almost impossible. 

Even a fool knows this, you’re the best thing I’ve got…

You almost choke on your spit when that song comes on the radio. Of course that song had to come on so conveniently in the middle of your trip down melancholy lane. You have half a mind to reach over and turn the radio off, but decide against it when you see the cute old man bobbing his head to it. 

So instead your mind traces its steps back a few moments until all you’re reminded of is him. 

In your head you remember all these great experiences- graduation day, senior prom, camp nights during wintertime and summer carnivals down at the boardwalk. But then your mind tortures you and conjures up these images of what it would’ve been like to have experienced it all with him next to you and suddenly the memories become less fond. It’s treacherous, really, being your own worst enemy. But you learnt the hard way that time slows down for no one. 

When you get to the train station, you move in a daze. The muscle memory of validating your ticket and walking to the platform does all the work for you. And usually that would be a good thing, except now it only allowed you to stay in your head a lot more. It’s funny, really, how everytime you see posters and billboards of his group around you don’t flinch. Not anymore at least. Because you don’t know him anymore, and he’s probably forgotten about you.

Sometimes, you’re convinced he was just a character that your very active imagination conjured up to fill gaps in your life with meaning. But every time you open a picture of the pair of you way back when, you’re met with the reality that he was real. Even if it was just for a short amount of time, he was visible to you. Tangible. And meant galaxies to you. 

[From mama han: cant wait 2 see u back again ! have dinner with us soon xoxo] 

You smile fondly down at your phone once you’re situated in your seat, typing out a reply to the woman you consider a second mom. 

You thanked the universe for still keeping her in your life. Sure, her son would probably be known to you as the biggest jackass to exist for eternity, but she would remain sweet and tender in your heart for longer than that. 

[To mama han: can’t wait to see you too:)]

You don’t confirm your spot at their dinner table, because frankly speaking, the last time you stepped foot in their house was the summer before university when you went to drop off a box of jisung’s things that you found in your room- sweatshirts, t-shirt’s, notes and other miscellaneous items that demanded you remember every miniscule moment spent with him. And since then you’ve found every excuse not to go near that place. You knew it probably hurt the woman whenever you conjured up some arbitrary excuse to not dig in to her incredible cooking, but the finger is to be pointed at Han Jisung and Han Jisung only. Screw him. 

She sometimes tries to address the elephant in the room whenever you do get to talk during her visits at your childhood home. Like It would be great to have you both visit at the same time or Would you like me to call him? I’m sure he’s not busy right now. Yeah, subtle as a gun, but you love her still. 

You’re not one to believe in luck, and if you did you’d actually quite fancy yourself as the most unluckiest person of them all, but you thank the heavens that he’s never been back home the same time as you have. Either that, or you’re just way too good at being further than a 10-mile radius from him. Like last semester break, when you got word from one of your childhood friends that he would be in town so you decided to cancel all your plans of going back home under the guise of going on a group excursion somewhere up north. Obviously, all you did was stay in your dorm and binge watch Gossip Girl for three weeks, but you concluded that anything would be better than having to confront your demons- or demon. Singular.

What would you even say if you saw him? Realistically, not that much. Ideally, you’d destroy him with words. All that pent up anger for him leaving you behind and all the unresolved feelings left to concentrate in an urn you buried deep in yourself exploding like Pandora's box right before him. 5 years passed, and yet you still found it difficult to imagine what a conversation would be like with him again. 

Honestly, you’d tell him to stay a while longer, just so that he’d remain vivid in your memories once he decided to leave again. 

When the taxi cab pulled up in front of your childhood home, you were half asleep and in desperate need of a solid meal. “Thanks, keep the change,” you say groggily as you pass the money to the driver. 

You take a deep breath once you’re out of the car, your duffle bag slung around your frame. It’s been a very long time since you were last here. The months seemed to pile up without you noticing, and now that you think about it, it had been a good whole year that passed. You don’t know where the time went, but you were definitely here now. 

You trudge up to the door, ringing the bell once. “Hey ma,” You say as she squeals and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m glad you’re back in one piece, especially since you ignored my advice.” She says pointedly and ushers you in. “Yeah, well, I guess the train spirits didn’t feel like victimising me today.” She looks at you with her mouth hung open and slaps your arm. 

“Don’t say that!” She’s about to scold you more when your dad enters the living room in his pajama pants. “My daughter finally decides to show her face around here! Send in the doves!” You always knew that you got your flare for drama from your dad. 

“How are you doing sweetie, we missed you.” He gives you a big bear hug and you sigh. “I know, it’s been too long.” 

“There is not enough time in this world to mope around! Now, darling, it’s very late so your father and I are off to bed. There’s some leftovers for you in the toaster oven in case you get hungry,” They both smother you in a hug and you almost suffocate. “We’d love to hear all about your university in the morning. Sleep tight honey.” 

And so you’re left to your own devices. Again. Sighing, you reluctantly head up the stairs and make your way into your old room. A smile finds its place on your lips.

The room is oddly clean- you figured your mother must have emotionally cleaned in here (more than once) during your time away from home. But the walls are still the same ugly navy blue, and your star-print curtains remained planted in front of your windows with planet decorations all over the ceiling to match. Funny. He helped you decorate. Said it made your room feel like the universe was just the two of you.

You didn’t know that what he really meant was that you were his safe place.

You spend a good thirty-minutes unpacking, tinkering around your old room and texting your friends about your trip home. It feels like an eternity passed when you finally decide to listen to your growling stomach and go get something to eat. But you’re picky and nothing in your kitchen seems to entice you enough to devour it, so you swipe your house keys off the kitchen countertop and head to your door. 7-Eleven it is. You’re dressed in a pair of leggings and a pink sweater with fluffy slides to match, but you could care less.

As you walk out of your driveway and head down your street, you pass by his house. The lights are off (of course, since it’s an ungodly 1AM) and it practically looked like a dollhouse. 

You turn your gaze away. 

The walk to the local 7-Eleven is only 5 Hozier tracks away, so you reach there in no time. Your tummy growls when you enter, and you immediately head to the instant section. Hmm, ramen, tteokbokki or pasta, choices choices choices…

You’re too busy pondering to notice the figure clad in sweats and a baseball cap standing frozen at the end of the aisle, gaping like a fish your way. He practically isn’t breathing, but your presence had knocked the wind right out of his chest. 

“Y-Y/n?” He manages to breathe out, and you look around, confused. Did someone just say my name?

Your eyes slowly turn to his figure, and you can barely see who it is from afar. Tan skin can be seen from the collar under his hoodie, and dirty-blonde hair peeks out at the ends of his baseball cap. You feel like you’re seeing things, because you know that baseball cap. You bought it. 

Slowly, your eyes trail over his face, and you feel the air leave your lungs.

Jisung still remembers the last time he saw you. Well, the last time he saw you before he didn’t say goodbye. 

It was a Thursday afternoon, History class had just ended. On the way out, he caught a glimpse of you. He hadn’t seen much of you the entire week, but that was because he was actively trying to avoid you. But there you were, at your locker putting away your books with that puppy-dog expression you always wore whenever you were tired and in need of a good nap. He stood for a few moments, taking you in. Even if your hair was messily up in a bun with a hoodie two sizes too big drowning your frame, he still thought you looked like an absolute dream. He wanted to go up to you and ask you how was calculus? And when you pout and say boring, he would suggest you come over for some hot chocolate and a movie. And you would say yes, with a sleepy, lopsided smile, and his body would feel all warm and fuzzy at the sight of you.

But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he leaves his heart by the lockers, and with one last look, he walks away. His jacket does nothing to warm the cold that creeps its way up.

Had he known he wouldn’t get to see you one last time after that, he would’ve watched you for a few seconds longer. Had he known that you would fall sick and stay home from school the day before his flight, he would have told you to take better care of yourself. And had he known that the last time he’d see you would be when you’re drained and tired and down, he would have gone up to you to make you smile, one last time. 

He never stopped recreating pictures of you in his head, fearing the outlines of you would fade. 

Except now, as you stand a mere six feet away, he feels as though you stepped out of his mind and into his world once again. He can see you. You’re there. 

None of the pictures of you that he drew up in his head would ever compare to the way you looked right then. Beautiful, just as he remembered you.

Your name feels like a foreign language when it leaves his lips. 

The air is so thick between the pair of you that it makes everything around him slow down. He sees your eyes move from confusion, to shock, to utter fear and bewilderment, and then to pain. It feels as though a knife impaled his heart when he sees your eyes quiver.

He always loved your eyes. Dark brown, like freshly turned over earth, warmed by the sun. They look at him with sorrow now. 

Your arms drop to your sides and your lips quake, “J-Jisung?” God, he forgot what it was like to hear his name in your voice. He hates that it’s said with so much heartache. 

You run out without thinking twice. 

“Stop, slow down! W-wait!” You hear his voice call out for you, but you continue to run- where? You don’t know. You just wanted to get away. Your feet take you far down the sidewalk, lamp-posts your only source of light at this time of night. 

But you’re not fast enough, and for the first time in a long time, you feel his grip on your arm.

“Let go of me,” You say, your voice already breaking. He breaks with it.

“Y/N listen-” He pants out.

“No, let go of me!” You snatch your arm away from his grip. God, you’re furious. And hurt. And every other emotion there is to feel when you see the person who left you with nothing.

Your raised voice startles the two of you, and you both stand there for a moment, breathless. From running, from shock. 

He doesn’t say anything and just gapes at you, “Well?” You provoke pointedly. “What? Cat got your tongue?” 

“No ‘Hey y/n! How’ve you been? Long time no see since, you know, I abandoned you’.” You say harshly and the knife in his heart twists. 

“I know you’re hurt-” You cut him off.

“Hurt? Hurt? Hurt doesn’t even come close to what I feel, Jisung.” All the words you want to spew get caught in the back of your throat and you fight yourself to keep it together because you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to catch you vulnerable and raw, because you don’t know if you can trust him with that part of you again.

“Can we please just- can we please just talk?” He begs, and you scoff. “Please?” His eyes plead with you, and you frustratedly run a hand through your hair. 

“So talk.” You cross your arms over your chest and look at anywhere but him. He doesn’t say anything, and each time he tries to, all he does is end up biting his tongue. Where does he even begin?

“I’m sorry,” He croaks out, even though it’s the worst thing to say. 

“Great. All is forgiven.” You’re ruthless, but that’s only because he didn’t show any mercy when he left. 

He searches your eyes, not knowing what he could say to make things right. Or if that was even a possibility anymore. You both stand in silence for a while, and slowly your resolve breaks away.

“Why?” You say, your voice coarse and exhausted. “Why’d you do it? I tortured myself for months- no, years asking myself what I did wrong that caused you to leave me like that. What- was it something I said? Something I did? Please- tell me, I’m begging you,” You’re full-on sobbing now, tears flowing down your face like waves. They twinkle in the warm streetlights and he feels the ground beneath him crumble. The wound he left on your heart was ripped open again, and you couldn’t help but bleed in front of him. “P-please, Jisung. It’s been killing me for so long.” 

Tears leave his eyes, “It wasn’t your fault,” He says softly. 

“Then what was it? Because for all this time I broke myself down, questioning why you left like that. For so long I thought you were mad at me- I thought you became tired of me, bored of having me around. Do you know what that’s like? Tearing yourself apart to find answers you know you can’t answer by yourself?” “Shit, I thought you didn’t need me anymore. Which sucked, because I needed you.” You whisper through ragged breaths and he takes careful steps closer to you. 

“Of course I still needed you- I haven’t stopped needing you, y/n.” His voice is as broken as yours.

“Then why?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and you struggle so hard to not fall to the ground. 

“Do you know what it felt like to wake up one morning, clueless and thinking everything was fine, and then finding out that it was, in fact, not? Do you know what it was like to find out the person you cared for the most up and left you alone and with no explanation- not even a single goodbye? To be desperate to hear his voice again, and wonder to yourself why it was so easy for him to cut you off like that?” He stood right in front of you, so close that he could touch you. 

“I searched for you. I still looked for you in the hallways at school, hoping it was just one of your stupid pranks. I waited in my room for you to climb up to my window again and whisk me away to the park for one of our late-night walks. I called your phone for days, just in case you’d finally get annoyed and pick up. You never did. You never did,” You didn’t notice that your face was in his hands and that he tried so desperately to wipe your tears away, his own streaming down his face.

He sucked in a breath, “I left like that because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get on that plane with you watching. That I would drop everything, all my stupid dreams, to stay in this stupid town for god knows how long with you. Leaving you was the most painful part,” 

“That day I found out I passed the audition- do you remember? You were so happy for me, more happy than I was. The only thing on my mind was the fact that I had to leave everything behind to chase after this dream- to chase after a dream that came true because of you. I wasn’t sure anymore. But you were so sure of me, so ready to see me attain everything we talked about, that the thought of all of that being in vain because of my cowardice ate me up inside. I thought that maybe if I could keep you at a distance- make you mad at me for ignoring you, have you hate me- that it would make it a little easier to let you go of me,” Your lips quiver.

“It wasn’t easy-”

“I know, I know that.” He rests his forehead against yours and squeezes his eyes shut as he hears your soft sobs. “It was so that I wouldn’t have a memory of leaving you behind in an airport. I wasn’t ready to have that image in my mind haunt me. I’ve regretted it everyday. You have to believe me when I say that.” 

“Then why didn’t you call back? Or even send a message?” Your eyes search his for answers as you pull your forehead away from his to get a clearer look.

“I thought you hated me. That you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” 

“Bullshit. You thought wrong.” Angrily, you push at his chest with closed fists and shut eyes, “You thought wrong,” You push him away until you’re no longer in his grip. “Let me go,” You whimper when he tries to reach for you again. “That doesn’t justify why you left me like that. I felt like I meant nothing to you for so long. You threw me away like I didn’t mean anything- made me feel like I was insignificant.”

“You meant everything to me!” He shouts out, shocking you into silence. “Don’t you see it?” When you only stare at him in confusion, he sucks in a breath. 

“The mere thought of leaving you was enough for me to think twice. Sitting with you in French class and giggling because we didn’t understand a word, spending so many nights with you in your ridiculous dinosaur onesie, getting to walk around aimlessly until 4am in this godforsaken town as if time wasn’t fleeting- I-,” He runs a hand over his face, frustratedly wiping his tears away. “I wasn’t ready for it to be over. I didn’t want to miss graduation, the day we looked forward to since grade school. I didn’t want to facetime you on prom night while you look so goddamn beautiful, knowing that someone else would be getting to slow dance with you. Knowing that I wouldn’t be there, that I would be missing out- that I would be missing you every goddamn day made me realise I wouldn’t be able to last without you.” 

“Selfishly ripping you apart from me felt like the only option. And it was so cruel, I know that. I’m the selfish asshole,” He takes exactly five steps to stand in front of you, and places a hand tenderly on your cheek. 

“I was selfish because I knew I couldn’t have you. I was in love with you, y/n. So fucking in love and you didn’t even know. And after all this time, I still am.” He says that last sentence in a whisper, and before you know it, his lips are on yours.

His mouth is so warm against yours, so tender, and yet they set your skin on fire. 

You pull away and take two steps back. 

“Y-you don’t get to kiss m-me like that, not again,” You say breathless. You’re reminded of sophomore year, and the kiss in his living room that made you feel weightless and lightheaded.

“Y/n-”

“I think we’ve talked enough for tonight,” Your heart hammers in your chest and the blood rushes to your face so fast that you swear you’re shivering. His eyes are illuminated by the streetlamps and you see them break right before you, defeated. Yours are no different. 

You walk away, choking back sobs.

He doesn’t try to stop you.

It’s 4PM when you decide to get out of bed. 

Your eyes are practically closed shut from your lack of sleep and you don’t bother to brush your hair, or undrape the blanket around your shoulders when you head downstairs. Your parents are sitting in the living room, oblivious and unassuming, but when they see you they almost go into cardiac arrest. 

“What’s wrong?” Your mother asks tentatively, extremely unsure as to why her daughter looked so abnormally disheveled. “Did you know he was going to be back in town?” You croak out, and she sighs. 

“So you saw him.” She states, and your dad pretends to read the newspaper. 

“Why didn’t you tell me ma, you know what happened-”

“Exactly; everyone knows what happened, and everyone knows how ruined you’ve both been because of it. But nothing’s going to change if you keep sweeping it under the rug. Honey, I know you’re hurting,” She rests a hand on your cheek and you close your eyes at the feeling. “But this is your chance to get closure.”

“What if I don’t want it anymore?”

“Oh that’s a load of cow dung. Look at you; you’re a mess.” Gee, thanks mom. 

She bites her lip and pauses for a second, “What if I told you that during your first year in college, the very first semester you were away, he came back? It was the autumn before things took off for him, and he showed up in town looking for you everywhere, not knowing you had left. I felt so bad, but you’re my daughter, and my first instinct was to protect you because I knew that for the first time in a long time, you were enjoying yourself. So I didn’t give him your new number, said your phone was broken, and he was absolutely heartbroken. I regret it slightly, but maybe this time you both can stop being constantly out of step.” 

Your mouth hung agape and your head spun. He looked for me?

“Don’t leave things like this, you need each other.” She gives you a squeeze, and you sigh. 

She was right. Years passed with so many things left unsaid, so much time gone. And as much as you hated to admit it, you were never going to get that time back. It would kill you knowing that you didn’t take the chance to fix things. You were already broken down to your bones, what’s left to chip away?

You uncoil yourself from your blanket and fling it onto the couch, groaning when you realise you’re going to have to face him again. The events that had elapsed last night were still hard to wrap your mind around, and you found yourself wondering if it ever did happen. You could already feel your heart pound at the thought of it. His words float in your mind ceaselessly; so much so that when you step out of your house, you almost miss the slumped figure on your sidewalk.

He gets up at the sound of your door closing. 

His hair was messy, pointing every which way, and the same clothes from earlier were now wrinkled and crimped. His eyes devastated you. They looked worn down and exhausted, much like yours did. 

“Walk with me?” He breathes out, and you nod. 

Seeing him in daylight is different. As you two walk, you become increasingly aware of exactly how much he’s grown. He used to be only a few centimeters taller than you, but now you only reach his chin. Barely. But his skin is the same golden tan and his cheeks remained full. You’re close enough that you can smell his scent- a scent you didn’t know you missed until now. But in retrospect, you just missed him. 

You both reach the small park in the middle of your neighborhood, and you find yourselves under the big oak tree that he had deemed our spot all those years ago. You look up into his eyes, and for a moment you remember what it’s like to feel home again.

“Do you remember the first time we found this place? You were always so terrible at hide and seek.” 

You find yourself smiling at the memory. He hid from you, behind this very tree, for so long that it had felt like you spent hours searching for him. When you finally did find him, you were angry and upset with him with red cheeks to match. 

“That’s only because you were always so good at hiding from me,” There’s ambiguity that you didn’t intend in that statement, which brings you both back to silence. 

After a while, you gather the courage to speak again. “So about that kiss-” He winces and scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry for catching you off-guard like that last night-”

“I’m talking about the one on your birthday, sophomore year.” His lips squeeze into a tight line and his round eyes stare at you dumbfoundedly. 

“I-I always thought you never remembered that. You never brought it up, so I thought that it was just a mistake.” You fiddle with your fingers and gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling the heat creep to the back of your neck. 

“Y/n, it was never a mistake. I wanted to kiss you- and I did- because I was sick of being confused about my feelings for you.” You look back up at him, “I didn’t bring it up because I was too scared of scaring you away with it all.”

“Well you should’ve, so that I wouldn’t be so confused either.” His expression changes, and you didn’t think it was possible, but it becomes even more defeated than it was a few moments ago. He rubs his face with his face with his hands, leaning against the tree. 

He’s about to speak again, but your lips reach his before he gets the chance.

His soft cheeks rest in your hands as you taste him, soaking in the feeling of his warm lips against yours. This time, for the first time, the kiss lasts longer than a few seconds. 

The sensation sends shivers up your arms and down your spine. When he kisses you back, he kisses you with so much fervour that you’re worried you’ll pass out at the feeling. But his arms grip you tightly around your waist to keep you there, with him, firmly in place. Your mind is fuzzy and your heart beats erratically in your chest when he squeezes your waist. Craving him like this is new to you, and yet you can’t help but yearn for more. 

Where words failed you before, you make up for it in slow dances across his lips. 

“It was worth it, right?” Your question comes as a surprise to him. 

Earlier, when the sun had begun to set, the two of you decided that public parks were not exactly the most ideal place to have a heart-to-heart. So you walked back to his place, hands shoved in to the depths of your pockets, but your shoulders brushing against his with every step. 

The two of you laid face to face on his bed, pillow-width apart. 

“Leaving, yes. Hurting you, not at all.” He answers quietly, his hand drawing circles on the small of your back. 

Under his bedroom lights, you take his breath away. His eyes trace over your features, over every dip and bump of the outlines of your face and he hopes that this vision of you never leaves him. He takes in every mole and freckle on your face like it’s the first time he’s seen them, when the reality is that he always used to map out constellations on your cheeks while you slept. He’s afraid that if he blinks, you’ll vanish again, so he tries to keep his gaze steady on yours, unwavering and certain. The way he looks at you sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“I miss you,” You say, your voice meek and he feels his heart break all over again. “I miss you too.” You both speak in present-tense because even though he could touch you, see you, he knew it would take an indefinite amount of time for the pain of losing so many moments to heal. 

He pulls you into him, savouring the feeling of your embrace. Holding you makes him feel at home, and god knows he’s been away for so long. You nestle into the crook of his neck, and his hands rest under your sweater and on supple skin, willing your pain to go away. 

There are an infinite amount of things he wants to tell you, but he figures “I love you.” would suffice for now. 

Life never slowed down. As much as it felt like it had when you spent your days with him again, the days piled up one by one. And soon enough, time caught up. 

Soon enough, you would need to book your train ticket back to the city, because your three-week long semester break would draw to a close. He would have to book a plane ticket back to glitz and glamour, and the pair of you would wind up in the same dilemma that you were in five years ago. 

Only this time, he never leaves your side during your fleeting time together. This time, he tries to make up for all the lost moments within the span of three weeks. He doesn’t let go of any chance to be with you- to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you. He imprints the feeling of his skin on yours so that you never forget. So that he never forgets. Your eyes are cosmic in the moments that you share intimately, and he soaks up every inch of you so that he never forgets what it feels like to share the same breath. 

He listens to all your stories and all your bizarre adventures with a fond smile, because you tell them with such wonder that it makes him feel like he was there. Your voice is the only one he wants in his head. 

When he drops you off at the station, he doesn’t say goodbye. But not like last time; he doesn’t say goodbye because instead he says I’ll see you soon and Get there safely. When he watches the train pull away from the platform, he prays he sees it soon again because it carries his heart with him. 

He likes to imagine that you send him voice notes of your day and how frustrated you are with you OChem professor. That you send him pictures of yourself, and all the cute little cats you come across during your walks to class. That you send him long letters in the mail like the hopeless romantic that you are. In return, he would introduce you to his members- he knows you’d get along with Hyunjin the best, because you both would like to bitch about him while he’s still in the room. He likes the idea of facetiming you whenever you have the time, and getting to say he misses you, even if it’s only through a screen. He likes to imagine that in every lyric he writes, an essence of you treads in his words, because you’re his only muse. And he envisions the day when he’s finally back in the town where time slows, up in your room where the rest of the world crumbles away and your slates are clean once again. 

But for now he watches as the train becomes nothing but a speck in the distance, waiting for it all to play out.

[chickenscratchxx]

gen Z dating rant

By: chicken.scratch

Day 1,345,216 of sitting in my narcissistic despair comes to a close. As I gear up for month seven of sobriety I find it difficult to find daily activities that tickle my fancy. Hence my new found stimulation: the validation that comes from the temptation of procreation. In layman's terms; tinder, bumble, and other  rectifying  outlets that make a man feel wanted. Take this as Jordan's review of dating in the twenty first century if you will. Or take it as a guide to dating in the twenty first century if you may. I really don't give a fuck. 

I took pride in never using an app to get laid for the majority of my sex life. I'm not being over zealous (okay, maybe I am). My nerves and "butterflies" were extinguished around the seventh grade. As a precursor I lost my virginity at 15, got head for the first time at 14, and had my first kiss at 5. I believe the kiss was my lady cousin. Whatever. I'm a sex addict, a dope fiend, a true "anything that produces an effect" fiend. I'm obsessive, possessive, and contradictory. I have expectations out the ass for everyone around me yet expect them to have no preexisting expectations involving my actions. 

So goes my whole life. For as long as I can remember I've had a disconnection to love. Really human beings in general. For as long as I can remember I haven't felt "love" for my parents or anyone for that matter. So I was a sheep in the heard when it came to saying I love you to those I guess Im expected to love. Like I said im a sex addict. It is what it is. So what. Who gives a fuck. Ask my ex lovers and they'll tell you something completely different. I do what I want when I want. That means sex. So before we really dig into this 21st century idea of dating, please if you're a feminist who wears "power in the pussy" t-shirts and flaunts your titties with tassels on main street, yes, even you may be able to get something out of this. So lets dig in.

I'm old school. Even on these fucking apps ill get horny around 12/1am and start asking these validation seekers if they'd like to grab a drink and every time they have some excuse. "Oh its too late", "I don't know you like that", or my personal favorite "I'm already in bed…tomorrow?". Are you fucking kidding me. I've been. Banned on all major platforms several times for slick and sly comments. But this brings us to the hook of the article which is validation problems within generation z. Now lets make this clear I'm not supporting underage drinking but yes I have offered to buy ladies underage a drink. (Key word: offered) I get it. Having a dating app on your phone is as common as having uber, if you put two and two together with that one lets make a baby. But if you have a dating app put in your god forsaken bio (which no one reads) that you're only on it for the validation. So what do I mean by Validation.. Validation (in this case)- the act of ones presence or aesthetic presence being confirmed. In other words- you think I'm sexy and you confirm this affirmation by swiping right on my profile or seeing that I have a new match from so and so, even though I may find nothing in their bio or pictures attractive, the thought of " I could sleep with them if I wanted to" arises. Temptation+Procreation=Validation. The issue with the topic of validation is woman (men as well (I'm not gay but I know men  purge this sin as well))  put a profile up on these apps in order to receive attention that their significant other is no longer providing. I'm guilty of this. In fact, I did this while in a three long relationship. She was no longer pleasing the part of my brain that says "oh yes, Jordan, she thinks you're sexy and that is enough". So I put up a bumble and tinder profile and got off on the fact that I had all these matches and girls messaging me with their shitty pick up lines (My personal favorite: Are you a spy? Because I could see you under covers) and need for validation themselves. And it was a balancing act at first. It really was. But the validation was enough. I did however feel like a piece of shit for having to delete the apps right before we would hangout. It is what it is. I dont give a fuck. I got over that guilt faster than I did a shot of dope or a bad sexual encounter.  All I'm saying is if you're on a dating app and you swipe right and you don't say anything, then fuck you. Stop wasting everyone's time with some beautiful picture and some bullshit and don't reply cause you're on the bullshit. Us single people don't have time to waste on high expectations just to be let down with a no response or a typical "I'm tired I'm going to stay in tonight". Please. If you're one of those people fuck you and your boyfriend who isn't putting out for you. 

Another pattern I've noticed is this trial period involving digital communication. As many times as I've messaged a lady and asked her to grab dinner with me and gotten the response, " I don't know you like that. But we can chat for a while and than Ill let you know". The fucked up thing about this is every person who says this has some sort of very provocative picture. 

-yours truly

#blogspot #blog #read #blogger #funny #blm #blackout #word #wordy #fuckyou #unapologetic #igotitlikethat #heroin #heroin addict #dating #tinder #bumble #fuckboy #loser #player #academic 

[taehyungsgrowl]

We can have a little angst… as a treat? ~ “Nate..” she shifted her weight to straddle his thighs before sitting herself up so she didn’t have to watch him cry, “I’m mine. You know I care about you, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” When she shifted her shirt raised revealing the remnants of floured handprints along her thighs. Using his good arm to push his torso up off the bed, he sat up. He settled his hand over the fading marks and returned the other to its place around her lower back. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist, if he thought they were 

close 

before… “That doesn’t answer my question. Do I still have a chance?” His tears were threatening to spill, but Y/N didn’t know what to say. She looked at Nate, remembering all of the good times they had.  She wiped her eyes and then his before carefully wrapping her arms around him. “I don’t know,” she mumbled into his shoulder, “If things were different I could give you a better answer, but I can’t.” She gave him a firm squeeze before moving to look in his face, “No matter what, we’ll be friends. I’ll be here for you,” she placed her hands on either side of his face, so he couldn’t look away from her. “As long as you need me. Okay?”  Nate‘s expression was unreadable, but she refused to let go until he understood. “Nate, please say something…”  “No matter what?”  “No matter what.” She saw a glint of something in his eye but before she could ask, he’d pulled her back down onto the bed flipping them over. He hovered above her propped up on his healthy arm, a smirk on his face as they shared the same air. “That’s perfect,” he said before laying down beside her.  “Will you stay for tonight? Just to make sure everything’s okay?” Even if they were only ‘friends’ he missed her company, her warmth. That morning was the first time he’d slept well in weeks, but he didn’t want to admit that just yet. When she agreed he couldn’t help but kiss her cheek before settling into bed, carefully draping the sheets over their bodies before they slept.   — Duncan couldn’t sleep. From the moment she refused to take her earring back, he felt like something was off. Who was texting her this late? Where did she go? It wasn’t like her to leave in such a rush. He held the small hoop in hand, why didn’t she want it back? He didn’t need it anymore, he told her why. He had her. Didn’t he? He fell into a restless sleep. Duncan opened his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Checking his phone he saw it was only 1am.

He was just being paranoid. She was definitely at home, in her bed, sleeping. She was probably just tired, there was no way she had gotten enough sleep the night before. There was nothing for him to be worried about. 

Duncan got into his car, “

I’m just checking in on her. Everything’s going to be okay. This isn’t weird, I’m just… easing my own nerves

,” he thought to himself. The drive to Y/N’s place felt longer than ever and when he didn’t see her car in the drive? There was nothing he could do except go back home. 

–

angst. oh how i’ve missed it!!!!

tysm sweet baby ily a lot 

AND

i hope you have been doing okay and taking care of yourself

–

Duncan knew. 

One long look at her empty driveway and the feeling in his tummy confirmed what he feared. She was with Nate. 

Probably sleeping with Nate. Probably –

He had to stop thinking of all the what-ifs before he drove himself over the edge. 

She wouldn’t, he tried convincing himself. 

He doesn’t remember driving home. Just mindless motions he completed until his face was buried in his pillow wanting to flood out the thoughts. 

–

Nate rested peacefully with Y/N in his bed. His body so used to having her there, he turned to wrap himself around her, holding her close. She hummed softly in her sleep as he held her. 

When Y/N woke up, she felt him holding her close. His warm breath on her neck as he slept soundly. 

She considered unwrapping his arm off of her but really didn’t want to wake him. She sighed softly and wiggled around in his arms to get him to wake up. 

“Mm,” he groaned, his voice full of sleep, “Morning,” he was suddenly alarmingly aware of how close they were. How pressed he was against her backside... how tight he suddenly felt in his sweatpants. 

Nate pulled back his arms, his face blushing pink. 

“Morning,” Y/N scooted away as she sat up, her own face warm from his bulge pressing against her. 

They both got up and she helped him get cleaned up and ready for the day. Lucky for Nate, it was Saturday and Y/N didn’t have any early morning classes to get to. 

“Do you wanna go have breakfast?” he asked as he dried his wet hair with a small towel. He wore nothing but a pair of sweats again. Y/N tried to keep her eyes on his face and not on his body. 

“Uh,” she hesitated, looking for her phone to see if Duncan had called or texted.

"I haven’t been out in days,” he groaned, “But I can’t really drive myself with this arm,” he chuckled. “We could go to that fancy place you like with the avocado toast,” he rolled his eyes, teasingly. 

Y/N noticed she didn’t have a single call or text from Duncan. He must be sleeping in today she thought. 

“Sure,” she shrugged, “But can we stop by my house?” she glanced down her clothing. She was still in flour covered leggings and Duncan’s shirt. 

--

Duncan was restless all night. 

He blamed himself. Why hadn’t he been able to ask her to be exclusively his? Why had he let this happen again? 

Duncan dragged himself out of his bed early in the morning and drove to her home again. 

Maybe it was just a bad dream. He would pull into her driveway where her car would be neatly parked. He was holding on to all hope. 

He was surprised to see maybe his wishful thinking had worked. There, in her driveway was her car. He rushed out of his and raced to her door. 

Before he could knock, the door swung open. 

Y/N mid-giggle with Nate’s hand on her shoulder as they were about to head out. 

Y/N’s smile drops when she comes face to face with Duncan. He doesn’t need to say anything for her to know how hurt he is. 

Hot, angry tears wanted to drop down his cheeks, but the last thing Duncan wanted was for Nate to see him cry. 

“Duncan,” her voice was full of sympathy and he hated it. 

“Don’t” he clenched his jaw when he looked at her. His eyes traveled up to Nate who wore a face of triumph. 

“Nothing happened, Shepherd,” Nate said defensively to plant the idea that something did in Duncan’s head. 

“Get your fucking hand off of her before I break that one too.” Duncan didn’t dare break eye contact with him. 

“Stop!” Y/N interjected. 

“Let’s just talk like adults,” Nate’s calm and level which only made Duncan angrier. 

“Fuck you,” Duncan spat out. “Fuck you both,” 

He turned his attention back to her, “I came looking for you last night, I.. I-” he let his head drop shaking it. “It doesn’t even matter. You deserve each other.”

Duncan started walking away. Y/N pulled herself away from Nate and caught up to him before he could close the door to his car. 

“Nothing happened, Duncan. We’re friends! How many times do I have to-”

“You don’t have to take your clothes off for him to hurt me, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. He can be your friend. But you know.” he paused, his jaw aching from how tense he was from keeping it together, “you fucking know I don’t want to just be your friend.”

[connorssock]

Beloved Monster

Growing up, Gavin had all the typical fears of a child. That there was something in his closet, a monster under his bed, haunted attic. Wherever he went, he never felt alone. As a child, it was terrifying but as he grew older, he got used to it and to an extent took comfort in it. It was why he never got worried about living alone, some people hated it, Gavin didn’t mind.

It was only when he stumbled home from a double shift in the early hours of the morning that he began to question his sanity. He’d missed dinner but was too tired do much more than pop a few slices of bread in the toaster and grab the ham from the fridge. In line with his usual luck, a piece of ham slipped from between his fingers and fell to the floor with a splat. Immediately, his cat was prowling towards it and Gavin’s sleepy mind panicked. Not thinking, he kicked the ham under the fridge and out of reach.

“Thanks,” a soft hiss came and Gavin blinked.

“Did you just speak?” he asked the cat.

“No, it was me.” The voice was grating, like metal scraped over rusty metal. There was nothing Gavin could say to that other than “huh” and ump when the toast popped out.

“Want me to make you one too?” he offered, mind addled and half asleep.

“Please.”

Obediently, Gavin assembled another ham and cheese on toast and slid it under the fridge.

“Thanks.”

“Cool, I’m going to hit the sack. Have a good night,” Gavin turned the kitchen light off and stumbled into bed.

In the morning he almost laughed at himself and his sleep addled mind. Of all the things to hallucinate from exhaustion, a voice under his fridge which asked for some food was a new one. He basked in bed for a few more minutes, delaying the inevitable of having to fish out the ham and cheese on toast from under the fridge, now probably coated in age old dust.

Still, it had to be done and once he was finally up, cat food sorted, he knelt down by the fridge and peered under it. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. A torch revealed nothing unusual either, not even a greasy stain where the toast had been. Scratching his head, Gavin tutted to himself, perhaps he’d dreamt the whole thing.

It was only a few days later that he was in the kitchen again that the fridge let out its usual groan as he moved to bin some gone off yoghurt. His hand stilled and he looked at the appliance.

“Was that you?” He felt so silly asking out loud whether his fridge had groaned. But it didn’t compare to his fright when the voice from before gurgled out a “maybe”.

“Cool,” he stalled for time, uncertain what to say. “You hungry?”

“Yes.”

As far as conversations went, it was a pretty stilted one. Whatever lived under his fridge didn’t seem capable of more than one word answers. Which was fair enough, Gavin wondered if he was an entity that lived in cramped, dark places, he too might struggle with words.

“Got a name?” It only seemed polite to ask. The response was a garbling hiss of consonants that should not have been possible to pronounce.

“Is that your name? Or is that you having a breakdown? Shit, you didn’t touch the electricity outlet, did you?”

“No. Name.” The voice repeated what could have been the same sounds as before, or something utterly different but Gavin’s ears caught on a bit.

“That’s getting a little too long for me to pronounce. But part of it sounded like Nines. So I’m going to call you Nines, okay?”

“Okay. Nines. Good. Like.”

If Gavin didn’t know any better, the voice sounded pleased.

From then on, Gavin’s waste took a serious nosedive. Anything on the turn or gone off could be shoved under the fridge and Nines happily chomped away on it. Sometimes, especially if it was something he very much enjoyed, the odd gurgling slurp accompanied it.

Gavin also made changes to his home. Nines was fond of dark, small crevices to hide in. The fridge was his favourite but he also liked to hang out under the washing machine in the bathroom while Gavin brushed his teeth. In the living room, Gavin sold his old coffee table and replaced it with one that sat low on the ground and was wider than his previous one. An additional benefit was that he could put his feet up much more comfortably while they watched TV. His wardrobe was a comforting nook for Nines to hide out in. More often than not, some of Gavin’s jumpers would migrate into the back corner of it, pulled from their hangers. In the end, Gavin just bought a couple more and let Nines rotate them as he pleased.

They had a bit of a game going on too. Some days, Gavin would sneak up on whatever furniture Nines was chilling under and suddenly peer under it with a torch. It was always met by a wry chuckle from somewhere else. How Nines knew Gavin was trying to catch a glimpse of him was a mystery. No matter how silent or abrupt Gavin was, Nines always evaded him.

“Why can’t I see you?”

“Ugly. Scary.”

“Well, you put up with my ugly and scarred ass, can’t be much worse than me,” Gavin tried to make a joke but the alarming growl he got in response had him backing up.

“Not ugly.”

It wasn’t something Gavin was willing to argue over, Nines sounded cross enough and Gavin had seen the things he’d eaten. He really didn’t want to be next on the menu.

“Got any family?” he tried to change tact.

“Brother. Happy.” Another string of garble followed that Gavin guessed was a name. Much like with Nines’ own name, he tried to find something that a human could pronounce.

“Let’s call him Connor, sounds close enough.” Then something struck him. “You say happy. Is that you happy or him happy?”

“Him.” Nines sounded as gentle as he ever could.

“What about you? Are you happy?” It was a heavy question and only when Gavin asked it did he realised how much he wanted the answer to be a yes.

“Almost.”

It crushed Gavin’s heart more than he thought it would. He nodded and made a little noise of acknowledgement, uncertain how to ask what he could do to make Nines happy.

In the end, he didn’t ask. But he made sure to take note of all the things Nines enjoyed more. He bought cherry yoghurt and left it in the sun for a few days before spooning it under the fridge. If sometimes he dipped a pickle in it just he hear Nines’ happy little hums, that was pure coincidence.

He also invested in blackout curtains and some evenings, he sat on the sofa in pitch black as he and Nines talked. Over time, Nines had started to string words together into sentences. Occasionally, Gavin could have sworn Nines’ voice came from the far end of the sofa, along with waves of warmth that definitely didn’t emanate from the radiators.

“Do you ever get bored just lounging in the house?” Gavin asked one night. Nines was either in the wardrobe or, since Gavin had changed to a bed with small legs, under that.

“Too bright. Too scary. Nobody want to see Nines.”

“Oh buddy, don’t put yourself down. Anyway, I think I have an idea. Would you fit in the hood of a jacket? Or a bag?” Gavin’s mind was whirling a mile a minute. He wasn’t sure how big Nines actually was. But if he fit in small dark crannies, perhaps he could curl up small.

“Fall out hood. Too heavy for bag.”

“I want to try the bag idea anyway. It would be nice to have you tag along whenever you fancied,” Gavin pressed the idea even as another one cropped up. “Hey Nines?”

“Yes?”

“You know I like you, right?” There was a soft tremor in his voice. He didn’t want to mess things up but he wanted as much as Nines was willing to offer.

“Yes?”

“Want to get on the bed? You always feel so warm and it’s a bit chilly.”

The refusal was not unexpected and Gavin didn’t take it to heart. If anything, he’d learnt that Nines was tremendously shy. Just getting him to sit on the couch had been a feat which took weeks of asking. So Gavin settled in to do the same with the bed. Each night, he asked Nines if he’d like to join him for a cuddle. And each night Nines refused. But his voice became less firm over time.

Things changed one night when Gavin had stumbled home from another late shift. He was tired, the case was dragging and there was something missing from the picture. Nobody could pinpoint it, but they were so close. Gavin never noticed that he was being followed home.

He opened his door but before he had a chance to flick the lights on, someone was barrelling into him from behind. They tumbled into the house, a hand pressed over Gavin’s mouth to keep him quiet. He struggled, kicked and scratched to no avail. There was the sound of a knife being pulled free and Gavin froze. He knew what was coming, the inevitable pain of a knife burying itself into his flesh. Bracing for it never helped but he tensed in anticipation all the same.

A slurping sound accompanied the sudden loss of tension in the body behind him. Almost in slow motion, it peeled away from him with more crunches and gulps. A soft burp sounded and Gavin tried to make sense of it all.

“You okay?” Nines’ familiar voice snapped him out of it.

“Fuck. Did you just eat him?”

“Yes.”

Gavin swore again and let out a laugh. He couldn’t very well report the incident now. There was no way to explain that the creature that had always lived under his bed since childhood had eaten his assailant. The absurdity of it all had Gavin laughing.

“Close the door, will you? It’s getting cold.”

He heard the door shut and even the faint glimmer of street lights was gone. Not bothering to turn a light on, Gavin picked his way through his home towards the bedroom, trusting Nines to help him stop falling over things.

Once in bed, he patted the space beside him.

“You going to come up for that cuddle then?”

“Yes.”

So it was, that at 1am on an unremarkable Thursday night, the mattress dipped and Gavin smiled.

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 3a

Cowritten with @disastrousintention. Content warning for illegal drug use. Trigger warnings for discussion of eating disorders.

-x-

5pm

New Year celebrations had started early in the Fairhead household with the two youngest boys having invited their best friends over for a party tea.

Four boys under eight now ruled the household. The girls sat together in the room, discussing their own plans for tonight.

Their discussion currently focused on arguing over what film they wanted to watch on the big TV downstairs.

“Definitely this one.” Tilly threw a scary movie onto her bed. “Mum and dad will crap themselves!”

"Dad will vote for that so he can 'comfort' mum when she gets scared..!" Lottie giggled, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“What kind of comfort, Lots?” Emily giggled.

"The sort of comforting that happens a lot in this film!" Lottie replied, throwing down an 18 rated film she'd found under Jake's bed.

“Urgh! Lottie where did you find that!!” Tilly picked up the film and read the back, “Oh... My..!” She giggled.

"Its Jake's!" Lottie giggled.

“That’s so rude!”

"Do you think Jake was getting tips for tonight?" Emily giggled.

“Quite possibly.” Tilly laughed loudly.

"So long as Louis doesn't cramp his style." Emily smirked.

“Isn’t Jake going to Krystal’s tonight anyway?” Lottie asked.

"Yeh but mum says he's got to take Louis with him!" Emily laughed.

“Louis might pull a girl himself.” Tilly shrugged.

"They've got to be home by 1am." Lottie shrugged.

“Well if Louis and Jake are anything like mum and dad, they’ll be finished in five.” Tilly answered with a giggle.

"I think that's more dad's fault than mum's." Emily mused with a smirk.

The twins giggled.

6pm

"Mum!" Jake groaned. "Do I really have to take Louis with me? He won't know anyone!"

"Yes!" Duffy replied, rolling her eyes at the mess the youngest boys had left her lounge in before running upstairs to their shared room.

Jake looked pleadingly at Charlie.

“Do you think it’s wise?” Charlie asked as he wrapped his arms around Duffy’s waist.

"You were the one who wanted Louis to socialise more." Duffy remarked.

“You’re right. I did.” Charlie replied, kissing her neck.

"And who better to look out for him than his big brother?"

Jake groaned. “He’s so gonna cramp my style!”

"You're taking him with you and that's the end of it!" Duffy declared firmly.

“Urgh, fine!” Jake sulked off.

"What's his issue?" Duffy sighed, leaning back against Charlie.

“There’s a girl...” Charlie began. “Might have something to do with that.”

"Ooh! Is that this Krystal you two were talking about at Christmas?"

“Yeah. He fancies her like mad.”

"And why am I only hearing about this now?" She pouted.

“I don’t know much. Just there’s a girl called Krystal that has a nose ring and he really likes her. That’s all I know.”

"Who calls their child Krystal? Really?"

“It’s unique.”

"Hmm... Mum thought Matilda was an 'unusual choice' so I can't wait to see what she thinks of Krystal..!" She giggled.

Charlie laughed softly.

7pm

Oliver and Paul's friends had just left and it was time for the boys to have a bath before bed.

Both boys were stood naked, wiggling their bits in the mirror and laughing.

"Come on, in you get!" Duffy told the boys once the bubbly water was ready.

“Look mummy! My willy’s bigger than Paul’s!” Oli shouted from the bedroom.

"No, I'm quite alright thank you, I'd rather you just got in the bath sweetheart."

Oli came into the bathroom with Paul following behind.

Duffy gasped as the boys jumped in the bath splashing her with water.

“Oops.” The boys giggled, “Sorry mama.”

"This is why I didn't get changed til after your bath." She shook her head affectionately.

“Mummy?” Paul said quietly.

"Yes little man?"

“Will you ever have a baby in your tummy again?”

"Probably not sweetheart, why?"

Paul shrugged. “Just wanted to ask.”

"Oh, OK." Duffy replied.

It didn't take long to get the boys clean and up to their room to get dressed for bed.

“Can we have a story?” Oli asked.

"Would you like daddy to read it?"

Both boys nodded excitedly.

"Charlie! Your storytelling skills are needed!" Duffy called down the stairs.

Charlie came up the stairs, “Is mummy no good at telling stories?”

"I need to get things ready for the girls' treat."

“Of course.”

She gave both boys a goodnight kiss before disappearing back downstairs.

Charlie sat on the floor in between both beds and began to tell the boys their favourite night time story.

Even though they knew every word they hung onto their father's voice like it was the first time he'd told them the story.

He loved reading stories to his children.

By the time he'd finished reading and tucked them into bed the older boys were about to head out to the party, the girls were setting up the lounge and Duffy was busy preparing snacks in the kitchen.

He kissed his sons' foreheads and went downstairs.

Jake was busy fiddling with his hair in the hallway mirror whilst Louis already looked bored of waiting.

“Come on! Your hair looks fine.” Louis mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"You have no clue." Jake grumbled.

“I know you’ve got a crush!”

"Shut up!"

“She likes you!”

"Who told you that?" Jake asked, his demeanour instantly changing.

“I heard it.”

"Who from?" Jake pressed.

“A friend.”

"Who do you know that knows Krystal?"

“You’d be surprised.”

Jake still wasn't convinced but really wanted to impress Krystal so decided to go with it.

“Are we going yet or what?”

"Alright!" Jake grumbled before heading out the door along with his younger brother.

“I would’ve said peace at last but we’ve still got you three.” Charlie chuckled softly as he joined the girls in the living room.

"Movie time!" The twins yelled.

8pm

Duffy and Charlie sat on the sofa whilst the girls had brought down their pillows and duvets from their bedrooms and spread them on the lounge floor.

Charlie’s hand rubbed Duffy’s thigh.

The girls dove into the snacks as the opening credits started.

"Do you want some snacks?" Emily asked her parents, having managed to wrestle one of the bowls away from the twins.

“Thanks Em.” Charlie took a handful of crisps and handed some to Duffy.

Looking down at the crisps in her hands Duffy frowned slightly and nibbled slowly at them.

“You ok?” He whispered in Duffy’s ear.

"I'm fine!" She whispered back sharply.

He kissed her earlobe.

Duffy snuggled into her husband's arms, taking the opportunity to subtlely discard the crisps in her hand, hoping he wouldn't notice.

He did notice but didn’t say anything.

9pm

Jake looked nervously around the room, his fingers squeezing the beer can in his hand. He glanced over at Krystal again. So far all he'd managed to do was say hi to her. He felt like such a dork! He'd also managed to lose track of Louis.

Louis was sat out in the garden, smoking. Krystal looked over at Jake again. He was so cute!

Little did Jake know that the cigarettes that Louis was smoking were laced with weed, so distracted was he by Krystal.

Krystal was fast tiring of playing things cool so she casually walked over to Jake, picking up two more drinks as she did. She held one of the drinks out towards him.

“Thanks.” He took the drink. “You having a good night?”

"Yeh, I'm glad you could come." She smiled softly.

“Me too. I had to bring my brother.”

"He's your brother? He don't look nothing like you!"

“Technically half but he’s cool.”

Krystal nodded. "I have three brothers."

“What are they like? Younger or older?”

"One older, two younger." She smiled, relaxing. "Do you have other brothers or sisters?"

“Where do we start?” Jake laughed, “There's eight of us. Oli, Paul, Lottie and Tilly, Emmy, Louis, me and Peter.”

"Wow!" She giggled. "Do you all live in the same house?"

“Yes we do.”

"Mad house like ours then!" Krystal smirked. "I... Um... I can show you round if you like?"

“Yeah I’d like that.”

She tentatively took hold of his hand and led him out into the hallway. There were loads of teenagers milling around the downstairs but no-one seemed to notice as she led him upstairs. Once at the top she turned so they were out of sight of anyone who might be looking up. "Much better." She smiled.

Jake smiled and moved closer to Krystal. “You’re really beautiful.”

"I was hoping you'd say something like that."

Jake blushed and met her gaze.

Krystal moved forward and lightly brushed her lips against Jake's.

[dat-town]

Coffee taste (m)

Characters: Min Yoongi & You

Genre: fluff, smut (just a prolonged foreplay though)

Summary:  As in what happens when you disturb your boyfriend late at night in his studio uninvited and try to lure him home.

Warnings: mild dirty talk and light sexual content

Words: 2963

I blame my late night conversation with @taetaeby about sweets, coffee and Yoongi.

“Come on, take a break.”

If there were a list of things you definitely shouldn’t tell Min Yoongi, that would be at the top of it right after Hey, wake up, sleepy head. Still, you get no reaction from the young man sitting in the chair in front the computer illuminated by its fluorescent light. His fingers are constantly typing, clicking, pausing or drumming to the beat that’s coming from his headphones. He is so lost in his music that he is completely unfazed by his surroundings.  You take a few steps towards him after closing the door shut with a quiet click and setting aside the bag in your hands. You have always found the so-called Genius Lab cozy with its worn leather couch and stylish furniture decorated with memories of its owner’s most cherished or life-changing moments: a museum of photos, awards, CDs and let’s not forget about the iconic Kumamon plushies either.

Your steps come to a halt just to stand behind the swivel chair that provides you a better view of what Yoongi is currently working on. Not that you know anything about music softwares, so the only thing you comprehend is that he’s still staring at the same file he opened two days ago when you were in. Based on the empty pizza and Chinese take-out boxes in the corner it looks like he didn’t move around a lot in the meantime and you sigh at the collection of various neglected energy drinks on the wooden table. You gently pull off the headphones you bought for him last Christmas and place it around his neck while you bend down to rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Hey,” you greet him in a soft murmur, pressing a short peck on his nape which finally jerks him out of the trance. You feel the muscles in his shoulders tense immediately because he certainly didn’t expect a visitor in the middle of the night and your fingers move quickly to soothe him by applying light pressure on the uptight area.

“Oh shit, it’s late, right? I forgot about time,” cusses fly out of Yoongi’s mouth followed by a tired yawn and you can tell from his raspy, deep voice that he hasn’t spoken out loud in a while. Which means he didn’t really have company during the past days.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him like the patient girlfriend you are even if you hate sleeping in the cold king-sized bed alone. You had been well aware of his life style and perfectionism when you started dating after being just friends for years. You admire him for being so invested in music, living so diligently to his passion but you are willing to be that person who stops him if he overdoes it. Someone has to make sure he takes care of his health and doesn’t forget about his family and friends either.

Your hands smooth down on his hoodie-covered arms and when you reach his pale, bony fingers, both of you instinctively move to intertwine them with yours. “Let’s go. You need to get some rest,” you nudge him lightly, whispering into his skin that’s still faintly mint-scented despite the previous days without seeing daylight much less taking a decent shower.

“Soon. I’ll just finish this beat,” Yoongi promises hastily while he brings your hand close to his face and you feel his slightly chapped lips brushing over your knuckles lovingly. Even though his affectionate gesture sends shivers down your spine, you know better: in his dictionary soon means another hour then one more again and so on. The never-ending battle with his own expectations to create something perfect: he won’t stop until he’s satisfied with the track and that takes a lot of time. You can’t blame him because good things take time and the outcome is always jaw-dropping: a heart-stirring song you could cry on or a rap track you would be hyped for. However, it means a lot more nights spent alone. An unintended whine escapes your throat.

“You haven’t come home yesterday and the day before either,” you remind him trying not to pout but failing miserably. The disappointment must colour your voice too because Yoongi turns in his chair and looks at you with those sincere eyes as black as his favourite coffee.

“You know what it’s like with inspiration.”

It sounds like an apology you don’t want to hear. You understand and respect his love for music and his loyalty to his fans but you won’t let him work himself to death.

“I know,” you mutter with an acknowledging nod because during the last nine months of your relationship and ever before, as soon as you miraculously became friends with him over a cup of coffee, you promptly learned how it is when he gets into the zone. You literally had to drag him out last time when he was in this phase before their latest comeback. You mercilessly threatened him to visit Holly, his beloved dog in his hometown alone and bless your acting skills, he believed that and crawled out of his cave. Somehow you figured, the trick won’t work multiple times. So you adapt to the circumstances with a sigh. “I kind of already knew you would say that so I bought you coffee and sweets just in case your supply ran out.”

You draw back a little and pull out two cups of sweetened coffee from the bag set aside along with a package of colourful french fancies you bought at that fancy patisserie open 24/7 down the corner to ensure his normal blood sugar level. Of course, you also brought decent food: a serving of black bean noodles and spicy rice cake.

“You are an angel.” Your boyfriend exclaims with widened eyes, sitting up straight and he licks his lower lip at the sight. You just smile at his eagerness and hold out wooden chopsticks for him which he takes still dazed. “What did I do to deserve you? I must have saved the world in my earlier life.”

“Probably,” you laugh it off, a pink blush heating up your cheeks as you watch him attacking the sauced pasta. He doesn’t talk much while he’s munching on the food but he has always been softspoken. You’re glancing at the luminescent light of the clock on the shelf and it shows a little over 1AM.

Your boyfriend lets out a content sigh patting his now full stomach and tosses away the empty box. He wash away the taste of spicy food with big gulps of coffee and you swallow hard at the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing. You can’t even argue with that fan claiming she would sue Yoongi because he really is a dangerous man. Who else could turn you on just by looking hella fine while drinking?

“I really needed this, thanks,” he rewards you with a grateful smile after he finishes the cup, and then turns back towards his computer to continue working.

You almost unconsciously slip off the table you’ve been sitting on the last fifteen minutes while Yoongi devoured the food you bought him. You know that you should probably go and leave him work in peace so he can come home in the morning and make it up to you. But you’re needy when it comes to his presence and you don’t want to leave yet, at least not alone. So you slip into his personal space trying not to block his view and unceremoniously sit on his lap sideways with your legs swinging on his left. You act like you don’t know what it does to him even though his tense grip on the computer mouse makes his knuckles turn white. Leaving it without comment, you casually stretch yourself to reach the package of pastries across him as if it was your sole purpose of closing the distance between you.

You open the plastic bag noisily to take out a strawberry flavoured dessert. As soon as the typing sound dies away in the background, you can sense Yoongi’s hungry gaze on you and try your best not to smile. The pastry looks delicious but when you hold it to him, he shakes his head dismissing your kind offer. Though, his dark eyes are still trained on you absorbedly and you dare to maintain the eye contact as you ever so slowly bite into the sweetness.

Eventually you end up smiling when the rapper’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Babe...”

It’s a warning, you know well but it doesn’t stop you from innocently licking the sugar off of your fingers that became sticky because of the frosting.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to come home? To freshen up a little? We can shower together and then cuddle,” you murmur, your lips barely touching Yoongi’s ears but his hands suddenly find their way on your waist and his grip immediately tightens.

“Hm... tempting,” he lets out a shuddering breath and you enjoy the effect you have on him until you can. Most of the times he’s too composed to let you have the upperhand so it’s always thrilling to have a chance. He’s a little emotionally reserved, rarely allowing his feelings to be shown but right now he’s too tired to put on a mask and you shamelessly try to make the best out of it.

“Well, that’s what I was aiming for,” you admit with a cute giggle while your fingers are tangling in his soft locks. You press an unexpected peck on his cheek again but Yoongi takes you by surprise as he greedily chases after your sugary lips. He’s still a little tired so the kiss is kind of chaste and sloppy but you love it nonetheless. The coffee washed away the spiced flavours leaving nothing but the bittersweet caffeine aroma on his lips. Shakily you have to grab ahold of your boyfriend’s shoulders while he’s stroking your thigh through the thin fabric of your jeans. You kiss like this for what feels like hours and your limbs slowly turn into jelly at Yoongi’s light touches. You open your mouth instantly with a sigh when his tongue licks at your sugar-coated lips seeking entrance. The way the sweet taste of dessert and the bitterness of coffee mixes overwhelms you and before you could stop yourself, you let out a whimper in pleasure.

Yoongi pulls away with a light groan, panting heavily into your neck with his breath hitting on your heated skin.

“If you keep that up baby girl, even if we make it home, we won't sleep soon.”

You are already breathless from the kissing but the nickname and the implication that slips out of his mouth so casually really knocks out all the air from your lungs. You remind yourself that you came here with a purpose and you won’t be deceived so easily into thinking that it was his idea all along.

“You said you need to finish that damn beat so do it,” you provoke him, just a little and your daring gaze follows the way Yoongi’s tongue wets his lips. Both of you know that it’s a challenge but also a clear innuendo.

Finish what you started is one of Yoongi’s most common used line when it comes to you. He can be a teasing little shit in the bedroom but pretends not to like when you tease him (but oh, he does love it very much). You know exactly how to rile him up and he knows how to push your buttons to conjure up those sweet sounds he adores so much. Sometimes he’s rough and into dirty talk, whispering sinful things into your ear, telling you how much he’d like to record those filthy moans that leave your mouth and maybe include them in his next mixtape. His skillful, fire-spitting tongue and teeth are always on the mission of mapping out your whole body while he holds you down not letting you to touch him, torturing you in the best way possible and only allows you to have your release if you beg him like a good girl. But other times, he’s so gentle as if you were made of porcelain and his gentle touches are sorrys for the purple bruises and love bites he left earlier even though you love the way he marks you and makes you his. His butterfly kisses on your hot skin are full of praises, his mouth engraving silent I love yous on the canvas of your body while he makes love to you oh so good.

“Okay,” Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly, tugging the headphone back on one ear and starts revising the track, replaying it again and again leaving you disappointed and untouched like a doll in a vitrine.

You have no idea because he looks so put together as always that but deep down inside it’s killing him to resist and deny you what you want. Still, he acts like he’s unaffected by your charm and focuses on the unfinished melody while you watch silently as he works. You love observing him when he writes lyrics or produces a song, it's always so inspirational. But tonight, you aren’t in mood for inspiration. It's late and you want to go home. With him.

Your patience only lasts for a few more minutes and while your lips graze his earrings, you can’t see but rather feel Yoongi’s cunning smirk. He knows you too well, he knew you would break eventually, a lot sooner than he would give in because you aren’t as stubborn as him.

You plant a kiss under his ear, then right under his jaw, at the corner of his mouth and then on his plump pink lips. You expect him to stop you, to tell you to leave him alone for a bit but he surprises you once again and you gasp loudly when he finally kisses you back with fervor. His hands cup your face keeping you close while you lick the taste of iced americano out of his mouth and savour it. He always tastes like coffee. bitter and sweet at the same time, it's addictive, really.

“Impatient, are we? You really want me that much, huh?” He chuckles sneaking a hand under the hem of your shirt so he can caress the soft skin of your stomach.

“So bad,” you admit without shame and your eyes flutter half-closed at the wonders his long, pianist fingers are doing to your skin leaving goosebumps behind. You can’t even protest, not when he asks you so nicely. But who could blame you? When a comeback or concert tour is nearing, you see your boyfriend less often and he’s always so stressed, you rarely have time to be intimate. It’s been a while and you missed feeling him close.

“You couldn’t even wait until I finish. You’re so spoiled, princess,” Yoongi clicks his tongue disapprovingly and you feel arousal licking your veins at the authoritative tone of his smooth voice. The small studio suddenly feels too hot. Perhaps you like it a little too much when he takes charge. You can’t seem to shake off the memories of him blindfolding you and tying you up completely leaving you at his mercy and you think you could get off on that thought alone. But why bother if he was right here?

“Will you punish me for being bad?” you ask seductively, fluttering your eyelashes at him while your naughty fingers dance down on Yoongi’s chest until the button of his jeans and you tease it just to test the waters without taking your eyes off of him.

“Maybe,” he replies after a moment or two of nerve-wrecking silence and his raspy voice sends shivers down your spine. The anticipation is building up quickly as you bury your fingers into Yoongi’s soft raven hair you adore so much and he wastes no time to crash your lips together. As you devour each other you can still feel the sleepiness in your boyfriends’ lazy moves but you find it too attractive to complain about it. Maybe he will make you do all the work tonight, but you wouldn’t regret it one bit.

The way his calloused fingers tap on the small of your back makes you bold and he growls into your mouth when you sit a little too close to his sensitive part.

“I changed my mind…” he pants heavily as he pulls back but you’re no better when a whine escapes your mouth. You can’t help the tremble either that shakes you to the core when his rough voice whispers those dirty words so close to your ear, his teeth gently nipping at your earlobe. “You’re definitely going to get punished. You’ll regret playing with me, baby girl.”

You know that he’s dead serious because he doesn’t joke about these things. Yet, it’s not fear but excitement that makes your blood boil. He’s like fire, burning hot but you’re reckless enough to seek this intoxicating sensation.

“Really? Because so far you’ve been all talk but no action,” you say trying to keep your voice as calm as possible but it cracks when Yoongi’s fingers teasingly play with the clasp of your lacy bra under your shirt. Staring into his darkened coffee brown orbs, you can pinpoint the exact moment when he snaps. He dives in to lock lips with you quickly and roughly one last time before he pats your butt silently ordering you to stand up. As you obediently do that, you can see the mischievous glint in Yoongi’s eyes and the dangerous curve of his mouth promising you a long, long night.

“Okay, you won. Let’s go home.”

And oh, winning never felt so sweet.

[nicalaadventurera]

Off to another day's adventure…#LesVoyagesdeNica #USA #Alabama

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 20, 2017 at 4:23am PDT

Hello there once again! Sorry if the next post takes time to get published. Blogging 5 days of adventure in one go is quite a handful. So I hope y’all bear with me. Hehe. We are now on Alabama and will be touring most of the Southern States.

* I will post the links of the tour attractions’ websites below at the end of the blog.*

Ark Encounter > Gaylord Opryland Hotel and Convention Center 

After a day of our arrival, we decided that our first stop 20th of May was The Ark Encounter. The Ark is located in Williamstown, Kentucky and it is a 7 to 8 hour drive from Trussville, Alabama. It is a life-size Ark of Noah which is seen in the Bible. A must see tour attraction for all ages!

We left home a bit late as we were all dead tired and time zone changes are kicking in. So on our way we decided to stop by for coffee at none other else than, Starbucks. Haha. I was really surprised to see their venti size which was really huge! After a coffee break, we drove all the way to Kentucky. It wasn’t hard to see where the Ark was seeing the huge arch they made.

#Kentucky here we come! #USA #LesVoyagesdeNica

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 20, 2017 at 10:19am PDT

Isn’t she a cutie? That’s my little cousin who gives us “good music” during this trip. LOL

We bought our tickets on the spot at the Ark and rode their free shuttle bus. The Ark’s outside attractions were not completely done yet, but the Ark itself and the insides are. It was HUGE and beautiful. I love the detailed work they did and followed every step same as it was written on the Bible. For a Bible-believer like me, this is indeed wonderful.

The Ark. #Kentucky #LesVoyagesdeNica #USA

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 20, 2017 at 12:49pm PDT

The first floor of it is their souvenir shop, the second floor contains all the animal replicas and fun facts of how it was built and run by just 8 people during Noah’s time. The third floor are the quarters of Noah and his family and some mini museums about the Bible.  Each floor has a restroom and a TV show that either features documentaries or movies about Noah’s Ark.

They also featured how did the Flood happened and the Creation as told in the Bible. I love how interactive their museum is, you may get to ask the wax figure/robot of Noah and he’ll be answering you. Kinda creepy looking but fascinating!

Now the serpent was more subtil than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden? Genesis 3:1 (KJV) #Kentucky #USA #LesVoyagesdeNica

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 20, 2017 at 1:36pm PDT

After walking through all the three floors, I was truly exhausted and my toes felt like separating from my feet. I guess, that’s what you get when you try to go on fashion without comfort. Haha. It was tempting to walk on bare feet especially when the wooden floors are all cool and shiny.

It was late in the afternoon when we left the Ark and headed to Nashville, Tennessee to see my cousin who was based there. It was a long drive since it rained really hard on us on our way back. I have ever seen such rain and thunderstorms. I could see lightning hitting somewhere afar and it was indeed scary. We even got lost on our way to meet her at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel and Convention Center.

Gaylord Opryland is one of North America’s largest hotels without a casino and is famous for its convention centers. Truly a 5 star hotel. I felt fancy entering the place and the garden was truly an oasis. Though it was a quick catch-up as we arrived there around 1am, we are happy to have seen each other. I haven’t seen her for almost a year and so we both were truly excited.

It was so nice to see you once again @kaileenmus!! Till we meet again at the PH. #Tennessee #USA #LesVoyagesdeNica PS. Thank you Dion as well for the tour!

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 21, 2017 at 12:04am PDT

We arrived back at home at around 6am, it was a Sunday and as bad as we felt that we couldn’t go to church, we all were truly exhausted and slept almost the whole day. That evening we prepared our things for another long trip and left in the early morning of Monday for Gulf Shores, Alabama.

I would like to take this opportunity once again to thank Mr. Doug Phillips, my aunt’s father-in-law, for allowing us to use his home in Gulf Shores. My family enjoyed the place and are truly grateful for it. You may or may not read this but still, thank you and we hope to see you again!

Gulf Shores: Canal Park > Pass On Point Beach > Souvenir City > Shrimp Basket

A day at Gulf Shores. #Alabama #USA #LesVoyagesdeNica

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 22, 2017 at 2:16pm PDT

Right before the crack of dawn, we traveled from Trussville to Gulf Shores, Alabama which takes around 4 1/2 hours of driving. We slept on the car and woke up on Gulf Shores. It was a bit chilly in the area seeing that it is near the sea. We first did our groceries and napped for a while. We then headed to tour around the area first.

Canal Park

Our first stop was the Canal Park. My Uncle said that we could go fish for bait here at the Canal and fish at some lake or by the beach area. It was a quiet place where a lot of boats are parked too. Here in Gulf Shores almost all the house are raised with poles and columns and beneath the house are their boats parked.

Some fancy condominium unit.

On the way to the beach we passed by some of the fanciest condominiums in Gulf Shores. They sure do look like hotels, but Auntie said that those are Condominium units and very expensive ones too. Most of them are facing the beachside.

Beach day. #LesVoyagesdeNica #USA #Alabama

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 22, 2017 at 2:59pm PDT

The beach we went to was Alabama Point East. It was nice and calm that day and perfect a beach outing but we just wanted to see the area and we didn’t bring out swimwears too. Hehe. After the beach, we headed downtown to eat dinner at a eat-all-you-can resto called Shrimp Basket.

Although what we ate wasn’t shrimp or anything. Haha. The menu that day for eat-all-you-can was whitefish and catfish. We had a great time bonding over good food and then we headed to the Souvenir City just right across the street to do some shopping.

Into the shark's head we go. #Alabama #USA #LesVoyagesdeNica

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 22, 2017 at 5:10pm PDT

There goes my silly little baby

Aye Captain!! #LesVoyagesdeNica #USA #Alabama

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 23, 2017 at 7:20am PDT

We did bought a lot of shirts for souvenirs and ended it that day. So far, our first day in Gulf Shores was a great time for the family. On the next day, we then headed down to the Little Lagoon beach and enjoy swimming.

It was also windy and sunny that it made it difficult for us to stand a tent. We had to dug up sand so it would stand. After the hassle, we swam a bit and ate lots of sandwiches too. My uncle and the rest of the men went out fishing, while we girls ate and goofed around. We stayed there up until noon. It was a great family bonding time that we all enjoyed.

If my skin gets tanner than it usually is, here is the reason why. ☺️ #Alabama #USA #LesVoyagesdeNica

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 23, 2017 at 4:16pm PDT

We also went Seagull feeding

Chill. #LesVoyagesdeNica #USA #Alabama

A post shared by Nica Gerona (@nicagerona) on May 23, 2017 at 4:17pm PDT

Notice the immediate tan lines? Haha yep, I get so tan easily. We still have a lot places to go to here in Gulf Shores, so I do hope y’all stay tune for the next adventures we went to here in USA.

Check out the links provided below:

The Ark Encounter Gaylord Opryland Hotel and Convention The Shrimp Basket

Merci beaucoup et á bientôt!

Blogged: USA Trip (Day 6-10) Hello there once again! Sorry if the next post takes time to get published. Blogging 5 days of adventure in one go is quite a handful.

[tottology]

My Kind of Crazy Weekend... a 200km Bicycle ride!

Adventures are addictive!

Especially those where you have faith in your abilities, there is a kick in your mind to try new things, and a little bit of support and encouragement by 1-2 people!

….. and in some cases, you are not trained for it, have any past experience or knowledge… you wish to attempt the adventure…..which, by definition, comes under “Crazy”.

 So here is my experience of Crazy.

I have been running at 5-10K events since March 2015. After a year of running, I trained for 21km (half marathon) for 3 months and attempted one on June 18th, and completed in 2:35 mins.

Since then have done 12 half marathons in 8 months across Cherrapunji, Hyderabad, Chennai, Bombay, Mysore, Auroville (Pondicherry), and six in Bangalore.

In Feb, was following the Indian athletes completing the Ultraman – 10km swim, 420km cycling and 84km running in 36 hrs.. was inspired to the sky at atleast attempt a basic triathlon in a year or two.

On 15th March, I completed 31years, and was wondering what new to be done this year. Last year was the year of half marathons. This year should be different. Did some research and saw some friends doing some fancy stuff on cycles called brevets and randonneuring, etc. asked a friend what’s it – he said its cycling 200-300-400-600-1200kms within a cut-off time! I felt these people are crazy.

Three days later, Asutosh (a cyclist + runner + friend) had put up some post and I asked him, can you explain what a brevet is? Instead of explaining. he said let’s do a 200 brevet, happening next week.

I was like – are you mad? I haven’t cycled more than 39kms, and that was in August 2016. He said, dude you can do half marathons so this should be easy! And that’s when I got my Crazy.

 Started searching bike rentals in Bangalore. Went to stores like Procycle, Giant Starken, RR cycles, Shah Cycles, etc Procycle had a weekend ride of 30 kms at very easy pace. So did that on one of the weekends just to get the body used to it.

Finally Registered for Audax India – Bangalore Randonneurs Brevet. Midnight Mandya 200. A ride from Bangalore to Mandya and back – to be completed in 13.5hrs (inclusive of dinner, rest, etc)

The whole week tried to squeeze out time from work to see cycles, buy gear and read about it.

Finally rented a beautiful bicycle – A Bianchi Via Nirone 7. Road Bike, from Italy. Beautiful, Sturdy, Friendly and built for Endurance. This was the first time I ever tried riding a road bike (it has a different geometry, smaller tyres, racing handlebar and gear system that usually recreational cyclists are not used to). For 2 days, did 10km each to get my body used to the angle and seating.

Finally the Big Day arrived!

Apart from the cycling gear like padded shorts, tee, helmet & gloves; wore a reflective jacket. Carried a bottle of water and a bottle of concentrated Gatorade + ice tea, dry fruits, chocolate bars, sugar candies, etc. also carried tool kit, puncture kit, 2 spare tubes, front and rear LED lights, mobile phone, charger and a powerbank.

I had booked an Uber to carry cycle to the start point, but it didn’t work out, so I had to ride 8kms. Took it easy, and reached the venue.

Assembled at Airlines Hotel at 4pm.

The inspiration and my guide for this brevet - Asutosh Bellur.

The event was scheduled between 6pm-730am. So to get a finishers medal, one has to reach by 730am.

Butterflies in the tummy. There were about 36 riders. 27 of them first timers. But everyone except me had done at least 100kms or were daily commuters. I was the only idiot out there.

So we got our registration cards for stamping at control points, briefing, had a sandwich, and filled water in the bottles before we started off.

And we started at 6.10 pm… with the countdown of 13.5hrs… and my target was to be back by 7.40am.

The average speed required – 15km/hr. and assuming we will have breaks for dinner, stretching, small bites, and at U-Turn point, the assumption was 12 hrs of riding and 1.5hrs break. So the avg riding speed required was 16.67km/hr for 12 hrs. quite a challenge, but had the target in mind all throughout the ride.

Flag OFF & Ride Begins:

0-20km a tiring ride through the city, full of pollution, buses, two wheelers and cars who don’t give a shit for cyclists. Took about 1 hr 15 mins to cross 20 kms. Already behind schedule. The groups were formed and lot of similar speed rider went together. I was almost in the end, thanks to no experience riding in such traffic and in the dark. But I tried.

21-40km was a transitioning time. From the city traffic to Bangalore- Mysore highway, the road quality changed, type of traffic changed. I followed the left lane and was comfortable at a speed of 20km/hr. at around the 35km mark, made a friend. Saurabh commutes on his bicycle to work. And this was his first attempt too. We decided to ride together and help if needed. 2 hr 10 mins done, 40 kms reached. 40km was my longest ride ever, surpassing the 39kms few months ago.

41-60km my neck and butt started to have some discomfort. The wind was cooler, the traffic faster, and body was hungry. So we decided to have dinner at about 930pm. We found another group waiting near Kamat Hotel and joined them. All of us had Jowar Roti Thali. Heavy dinner as 140more kms left. The service was super slow and we took a 50 min dinner break instead of 25 min as planned. Body was already tired because of the waiting, as it was losing the rhythm. Total time, 4hrs gone, 9.5 left.

61-80km was a good experience. We cruised through the road and managed a steady speed of 23km/hr. I was very positive about the brevet at this stage. But, but but…. at the end of 80kms, Saurabh got a mild cramp and we had to take a 10 min break.

81-100km mind games started. Both of us felt extremely tired and at one point, thought of completing 100kms and end it there. That thought was a mistake as the mind kept telling us how tired we are and even the last 8kms looked strenuous. We checked the map and finally reached the U-turn point. Body drained out, 5 hrs 45 mins passed and signs of cramps for me too. AT the u-turn point, got a good stretch by Jins, the organizer. Relaxed for 20 mins, ate biscuits and banana, drank half litre Gatorade, and some pep talks by fellow cyclists. 1am was the cut-off for U-turn and we saw some more cyclists complete this and all of us started out at 1.10am.

Till now, my 100kms took 7 hrs (including rest, dinner, breaks)

Now, the target was 100kms in 6hrs 30 mins. Required speed 15.3kms/hr. Energy levels – 30%, Enthusiasm – 75%, Conviction – 100%

101-120 km was full of minor tragedies. Saurabh’s pedal came off thrice, and to fix it we spent 35mins in total. Riding was normal but time was not a luxury we had. Roads were empty and winds were against us. He was losing hope and I was also confused on the way forward. Do I ride alone if he goes? Not sure. 20 kms took 95 mins.

121-140 km was a test for Saurabh. He was not able to ride. It was a hybrid cycle, with a bad pedal and his will power draining at each kilometer. We tried to push each other, but at 136km, we reached Ramanagara, and he quit. He said he will put his bicycle in a truck or a tempo and leave. Asked me to join too, but I was managing to ride, overcoming the mild cramp like feeling. “I cannot quit, I should not quit, I will not quit” was all I could think. 9 hours done, 4.5 to go. I started riding alone.

141-160km The Make or Break Stretch for me. At 146km I got cramp in my left thigh. I had given up… I called up Asutosh – he had reached home by now after completing his 200kms. I still had 54kms to go in 4 hrs. he said don’t quit. Just drink a lot of water, stretch out a lot and start. I said to myself – even if I don’t finish in the cut-off, its fine, but I gotta do 200kms! Was cursing Uber for not working out and making me ride 8kms extra in 35degrees at 330pm! Vented out, screamed and had a few tears, but I started.

Hooligans entered the scene and almost threw me off the road. 3 scooters and 8 guys, all drunk and shouting and singing in Kannada. I smiled and waved at them, and they left. Later I heard that these guys have irritated a lot of riders. Two girls had encountered these hooligans and had a fight on their ride.

I felt like hiring a tempo and going back home. This was not something I expected.

Changed gears to minimum and did my best to not strain the thighs. Negativity was building up.

In the midst of all this, a funny incident happened too. Saw a cat crossing the road and thought its probably a cheetah, and in panic, started riding at full speed. Brain, I tell you!

Finished 160km and felt good – 80% job done. Slept on the road for 10 mins, did some yoga asanas to relax my back and neck, ate dry fruits. I called up one of the organizers and said 40kms and 3 hrs, I don’t think I’ll be able to meet the cut-off. He said don’t worry, just finish it. He did some pep talk and got me in a good mood. He said quitting is not an option here, unless there is any medical emergency.

Took out time to click a pic!

161-180km The Trance Ride. The pep talk helped. The next 16kms were something else. I don’t know what happened, when and how, but managed 16kms at a steady pace, I don’t remember anything here. All I know is I was trying to tell myself I am not a quitter. Also, was thinking about how awesome it will be to put this up on Facebook and other social media and probably inspire at least one human being. 12.5 hrs done, 180kms. Now I had 1 hr, 20 km, Bangalore traffic, 900mtrs steep inclines and a body without any energy.

 The final 20kms.

Every kilometre was a challenge. Incline roads, traffic started as it was 630am, lots of buses, and d-grade roads of Bangalore. The highway was over and I had 17more kms left, with 2 major flyovers and city traffic waiting.

I called up my wife and told her the status. She said she will join me at the end point. That was a great push. Toiled hard to cover each km. Then I saw the watch, and it was 7.40am and I still had 7kms left. I had missed the cut-off. I had a broken heart. But the will power didn’t leave me. I called up the organizers and told them I am 7kms away, they said come in, don’t worry.

Then I hit the flyover, a long one, and cruised on it. Last 3 kms left. Wife messaged that she is reaching in 15 mins. I gave myself a target of 15 mins for 3 kms. At that stage, the mind body soul was all working on one goal – 200kms. And then, after 14 hrs 12 minutes, I made it!

Yes, I completed a 203km ride in 14 hrs, 12 mins. Missed the cut-off by 42 mins, no medal, but the happiness it gave me was incomparable. Adding on to that the happiness on the face of my wife was something else, it made me forget all the pain and stress. This was the most unforgettable, probably the most physically and mentally draining adventure I had done. I felt like a winner.

The organizers had left by then, but they cross checked data, asked me to send a selfie from the end point, etc and have given my ride a Late Finish status. But yes, I finished 200kms!

And what a coincidence, my ride distance (including the 8km commute to the start point), was 211kms. Equalling 10 half marathons.

Ended the ride with lots of food, to replenish the 3000 kcals burnt during the ride. 1 dosa, 1 vada, 1 idly, 1 upma, 1 sheera, 1 watermelon juice and 1 mosambi juice! That was an achievement.

 Long post, but yeah, it captures most of my experiences in this crazy adventure.

Bicycle: http://www.bianchiusa.com/archives/2012/road/coast-to-coast/via-nirone-7-2300/

Event details: http://www.audaxindia.org/event-e-934

Route map: https://www.strava.com/routes/3527529

Ride stats –

Endomondo: https://www.endomondo.com/users/16681001/workouts/893018682

Strava - https://www.strava.com/activities/914620091

[huginsmemory]

50 Unusual Questions

1-What is the colour of your hairbrush?

It has a wooden handle, so... light honey brown I guess?

2-A food you never eat?

I'll eat pretty much everything but I hate peppers.

3- Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too cold :/ my circulation is probably shit, and I hate it cause I get really cold if I study for too long without getting up which I do way to much

4-What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Finally getting out of bed, lol

5-What is your favourite candy bar? 

Kinder bueno I think? I fucking love any kinder chocolate bars, there's also the one with puffed rice in it? Delicious.

6-Have you ever been to a professional sports event? 

Surprisingly enough I have! I've seen a couple hockey games of the ones that play in the city nearby, and the opening game of women's world cup when it was in Germany a while back- it was Canada against Germany. Also I've watched the 2010 winter paralympic slalom, which was really neat even if I froze my ass off.

7-What is the last thing you said out loud?

Probably something to my dad about him taking lampchops out as a celebration of both my sister and I finishing the school year. Something like, "yeah sounds good"

8-What is your favourite ice cream? 

Matcha or mango, absolutely love those.

9-What was the last thing you had to drink? 

This botched dirty chai latte, we didn't have any milk left so it's more just chai tea, a expresso shot and a bunch of condensed milk. It's pretty good I guess.

10-Do you like your wallet?

Yeah it's ok, like it fits money in it and I have been meaning to get a new one that's leather with more pouches since its more of a coin purse then anything. It does have an owl on it tho which is cool.

11-What was the last thing you ate? 

Apple cinnamon left over porridge! I dumped in this walnut apple raisin sauce mic thing we made for crepes a little while back and it was really good

12-Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? 

Nope. Haven't bought really anything since covid started other then embroidery thread I guess.

13-The Last sporting event you watched?

No idea honestly. I don't really watch a lot of sports

14-What is your favourite flavour of popcorn?

Probably salt and vinger or white cheddar. Depends on if I'm going for more zangy or sweet flavour

15-Who was the last person you sent a text message to?

Malaurie, a friend I met while I lived in Brazil.

16-Ever go camping?

Yup! My family loves to go wilderness camping on my home territory so we usually go for a week every summer. We rarely tho actually use and go to those 'proper' campsites where you have to pay and they actually have facilities. If you need to pee then you can enjoy it the way we used to do thousands of years ago.

17-Do you take vitamins?

Occasionally, like my sister takes vitamins so I'll sometimes eat hers, but I don't go out of my way to have them.

18-Do you go to church every Sunday?

Not really, my family is religious but I have a lot of difficulties with the church we go to and the church in general. Sometimes I still go cause my parents still think I'm Christian (I don't really know what I am or believe at this time) and they'd be really disappointed if I told them I'm not.

19-Do you have a tan? 

Not really? I probably have a bit of one since I really like being out for walks and gardening but I also wear a lot of clothing still currently so it's probably only on my hands and face if I do.

20-Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? 

Oh man, honestly probably Chinese food. I love ethnic food and I rarely actually have Chinese food so I like to have it when I can, although I always feel terrible afterwards since I love the sweet dishes. I eat a lot more pizza so it's less preferred I guess hahaha.

21-Do you drink your soda with a straw? 

No, straws and bubbly drink are always kinda wierd. If it's like, not very bubbly then it's ok with a straw but otherwise no. Only fancy drinks gets straws for me.

22-What color socks do you usually wear?

I have a bunch of different sock colours but they're all pretty much neutral toned, so grey's, purples and blues. My favourite socks tho are these socks that says I fucking love it out here in a speech bubble coming from the middle of a forest since it's a mood.

23-Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

Yup. The speed limits where I live are really slow I find.

24-What terrifies you? 

I guess being forgotten by all those I love. I'm not that bothered by a lot of the common fears people have oddly enough. I don't particularly care for maggots but I also find them fascinating in a way.

25-Look to your left, what do you see? 

Shower curtain :/ I'm currently in my bathroom, rip.

26-What chore do you hate?

I don't really hate certain chores? I find it soothing to clean and it's only really when someone is pissing me off and I'm stressed and have other things I need to do that I don't like cleaning. But I do hate dealing with anything money wise so I hate dealing with banks when I have to and that's kinda a chore?

27-What do you think of when you hear and Australian Accent? 

Australia I guess? The outback? I dunno I'm also not that good at distinguishing accents so I might think it's like English, rip.

28-What’s your favourite soda? 

Ginger ale probably, or iced tea. I don't really like soda as I find it too sweet.

29-Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? 

Drive through, although it depends on what situation it is. But majority of time drive through.

30-Favourite cut of beef? 

I don't really know the cuts of beef so I can't really say. But sirloin steak is always really good when barbequed rare and with spices on it so I'll go with that.

31-Who’s the last person you talked to? 

My sister, and Amy who runs a research station. I was just on a call about going up to the research station to help with field work (were both going to have to do two week quarantine).

32-Last Song you listened to? 

Fool for Love by Lord Huron

33-Last Book you read?

I haven't finished it yet but the Master and Margarita by Mikhail bulgakov. It's a lot funnier then I was expecting, and I recommend it if you need a read (I'm used to really dry Russian authors)

34-Favorite Day of the week?

Hm not sure. I like Wednesdays on principle (don't know why) but I'm actuality it's probably Friday.

35-Can you say the alphabet backwards?

Absolutely not.

36-How do you like your coffee? 

If I'm having coffee it's with a fuck ton of sugar or in something else.

37-Favorite pair of shoes?

Currently these knock-off blundstones since I can just slip em on and theyre decent looking and decent for doing anything in. But I have a pair of fluevog boots and I love those as well.

38-At what time do you normally go to bed? 

Currently between 1am-3am. It's not a good schedule.

39-At what time do you normally get up?

9-10 ish, depending on how motivated I am and the weather.

40-What do you prefer sunrise or sunsets? 

Neither. I see a lot more sunsets cause I get up really late usually, so I guess when I do see sunrises it's more special. So actually those I guess.

41-How many blankets are on your bed? 

I have a big duvet and a smaller throw squished against the wall for my cat to sleep on.

42-Describe your kitchen plates? 

Ikea white cream round and kinda bulky. We also have older bone white thinner round plates and other thinner ones with dark red print showing a hunting scene. The last two we don't have many left of tho.

43-Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? 

Probably wine actually, red or white both is good I really enjoy cocktails as well but I don't have them as much. Although we have a maple liqour that I'm really enjoying recently before bed.

44- Do you play cards?

Not a lot recently. I really do enjoy playing tho, and when I've lived communally I've always played a lot of cards.

45- What colour is your car?

I don't have one but I kinda share one with my sister and it's a cherry red convertible smart car lol.

46-Can you change a tire?

I've done it before a while ago, so I think I could?

47-What is your favourite state/providence?

Where I live hands down, sorry everywhere else. So British Columbia the good old PNW.

48-Favourite job you’ve ever had?

Uhhhh probably when I made an animation for a art gallery involving my indigenous heritage and rights. That was really an amazing opportunity and I even got paid for it.

49-How did you get your biggest scar?

I was younger and was jumping on my omas bed and fell and cut open my head so I have a big scar on the back of my head that doesn't grow any hair. I had to get helicoptered out since my oma lives in a remote area where you can only get out my boat or my plane/helicopter. I don't remember any of it tho.

50-What did you do today that made someone else happy? 

I guess I was discussing with my sister about her sweater she wants to buy, and was more excited about going to the field station then earlier.

I tag @timugamaileilani and @petrichordragon and anyone who also wants to do this!