#so i guess the angst and drama is in good spirit of the angst queen herself
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today is tallulah’s birthday.
and i haven’t seen anything about it or about her talking about it.
today is tallulah’s birthday and she has went to bed with minimal fanfare.
(irl lullah admin’s got stuff i believe but like lemme make some angst also i might be wrong)
#anyway back to being upset about what’s happening with sunny#love my baby girl lulu but she’s gone right now#so i guess the angst and drama is in good spirit of the angst queen herself#qsmp#qsmp liveblog#qsmp tallulah
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I'm not really sure how long these are meant to be. "Right, I'm pretty sure that's called trauma".
Trauma Bonding, (a Jason Todd x Reader)
Warnings: Language.
Genre: Fluff/angst/comedy/romance
Authors note: This prompt is perfect, thank you @aethers-stuff ! Sorry it took me so long to write! I hope you like it. ♡(: _______________________________________________
Dick watched you two from the kitchen.
Jason was seated on one end of his livingroom couch and you on the other. You were talking loudly, gesturing with your hands so much that you looked like Italians at a family gathering. You were both exceptionally expressive and extroverted people on your own, so when you got together, the room's volume was always raised a noticeable few notches.
It was endearing, but a real headache when it went on for too long.
Dick massaged his temple. An extrovert himself, he felt the need to jump into the conversation, but he knew better. You and Jason would simply not shut up long enough for him to get a word in when you were both really on a roll, and Dick didn't feel like expelling that much energy. Plus, he was curious to see where this would end.
“...That’s ridiculous Jason”.
You crossed your arms.
“There is no way in hell you're dying your white streak black.”
He raised his hand from the couch armrest in exasperation.
“I wasn't even asking you.”
You arched an eyebrow.
“You should've been. The white streak stays. It's your trademark. If you're concerned about me being right, I dare you to ask everyone to vote.”
“Hon, I am not in the practice of asking people if I can or can't do things.”
“Luckily, you never ask me my opinion so you don't have to worry about breaking your pattern just yet.”
“...You never keep it to yourself, so why would I even bother”.
Dick shook his head. You were like an old, emotionally constipated couple and it was amusing to observe.
“Just kiss already”, he said under his breath.
You turned your head towards the kitchen, hearing him faintly, but almost unintelligibly.
“Dick, did you say something? Sorry, we're arguing here, I hope we're not too obnoxious”.
“Hey don’t throw me under the bus with you, I was just trying to have a moment of quiet meaningless thought when you started playing hair cop,” Jason quipped.
“Hush.”
“Right back at you”.
“-Both of you shut up for a minute. I didn't say anything”.
Dick rolled his eyes.
“However, we do have patrol in an hour, and Bruce sent me some weird instructions.”
“Weird how?”
You tilted your head in curiosity.
Jason glanced at you, and huffed a little. He couldn't help himself. Despite himself, he found you really endearing. Especially in moments like this when your lips were pouted in confusion and....”.
Dick snapped Jason out of his brain fog.
“Jay. Buddy. Try to pay attention.”
“Wasn't not doing that,” he grumbled.
“Then what did I just say.”
The two brothers shared a childish battle of glares.
“...fine, you made your point. I was dreaming about this whisky I saw in the manor the other day”, he lied.
“Ok. Very in character, Jason. Now, the mission is-”
“...looked decadent. It was really old and had this fancy label on it that-”
“...Guys. I can hear you from the other room”, Tim walked in looking miffed.
There was a pause as all three of the human boom-boxes stared blankly at the intruder.
“...you’re a detective, Tim”, Jason deadpanned.
“Ugh, Jason...that’s not the... just shut up.”
Tim pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
“Did you all get the mission briefing?”
“Somehow, Jason didn't”, Dick fumed.
“Alright, fine. Basically, Jason, you, and Y/n are staying back tonight because you're the only ones who haven't been seen yet in the city, and Bruce wants to save you guys for an undercover mission next week”.
“What?!”
You both looked at each other in disgust.
“I'm not working for the bat anymore!”
“Yeah, and I've never even started to work for him! He can't just expect us to be at his disposal and then bench us!”
“Guys, relax. He's just doing this so you can have a better element of surprise later. You're both really valuable, ” Dick reasoned.
You and Jason paused, your egos begrudgingly satisfied.
“...fine”.
“Fine”.
“Good. Ok. So everyone suit up”, the oldest brother concluded.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Jason was irritated.
He found you interesting. Really interesting. Usually, he dealt with his fear of vulnerability by acting too unbothered to care, but you intrigued him so much that he struggled to keep his mouth shut around you. He was afraid to get too close to you; he would lose you eventually like everyone else.
But, he knew so little about you, despite all of the banter. A talent you both possessed, was chattering without disclosing any actual information. You had only met each other two months ago, and usually it would take both of you longer to warm up to a new person, but there was just a feeling. You were kindred spirits. He wanted to learn more about you, despite himself.
“So what brought you here”.
“Here as in what brought me to dress up and punch criminals as a nightly routine, or as in what brought me to be in an alliance with Bruce Wayne that I'm now regretting?”
There it was. Those were the kind of responses that made Jason feel just enough on his toes to be uncharacteristically comfortable with you.
“Take your pick I guess.”
“Bruce Wayne it is then. I'm not really a fan of my life story”.
“Ttt, ” Jason laughed, taking a page from his youngest brother’s book.
“I'm kind of an accidental friend of Dick’s. We met first at the Bludhaven police station, I was there for...pfft...I was just there, ” You paused with a laugh.
“He helped me out, and we didn't see each other again until he ended up working with me anonymously for info on a case as Nightwing years later. We both just figured out each other's identities and he brought me on a mission once where I met Bruce. And Bruce is a convincing prick so now here I am, somehow under his command”.
“Sounds about right. So when do we kiss?”
Great. Now he sounded like an asshole.
Jason looked at you, gauging to see what your reaction would be. He’d half said that last part by accident, but now that he’d acted out of impulse he knew he couldn’t take it back.
“-What?”
“When do we kiss? You heard Dick”.
He was really committing to his blunder now.
“Yes, and I ignored him and smoothly got him to change the subject. Besides. You're not my type”, you lied.
Jason was in fact, exactly your type.
“What is your type?”
“Shit”, you thought.
“Hmm. I like people who I can chase that don't actually like me, and then I eventually get to give up. It makes it easier”.
You admitted this in a tongue-in-cheek manner, but you weren't really kidding. Something about Jason’s persistence made you want to open up, despite your usual habitual wall-building.
“You're like a fucking mirror; you know that?” Jason laughed.
He knew you weren’t kidding because he’d said things along those lines millions of times.
“Your point, Mr. Therapist? People hurt people. I kind of prefer to enjoy relationships from a distance at best”.
“Right, I'm pretty sure that's called trauma”.
“Call it what you will, but it's a good way of not getting even more mentally busted up than an already fucked vigilante”, you grinned.
“Nice.” he smirked.
“You sound as dumb as me”.
“That’s a little low don’t you think? I’m only half as dumb as you at most, but yeah. Fine. We share some things”.
“What’s that supposed to mean Princess,” he smiled.
He felt himself get exited a little. What you had just said made it sound like you felt you two were similar just as he did.
“That I think we’re both stupid people that have really stubborn hearts that get us into trouble”.
Your heart was beating so fast. You hadn’t meant to say that much.
“Now who’s the therapist”, he said in a low voice.
He leaned in closer to you a little, testing the waters to see if you were just being a little cautious, or if you actually weren’t comfortable. He felt like you were just being scared like he always was deep down, but he didn’t want to push you if it was only going to cause you both more pain.
He was a little scared too. You scared him. Not just because you were powerful and beautiful, but because he actually liked you. He wasn’t used to that. But he knew himself, and when Jason Todd does something, he can’t do it half way. If you were in this too, he knew he’d do anything for you, and that was terrifyingly vulnerable.
As he leaned in, your breath caught.
“Fuck”, you thought.
His eyes were stunning.
You hadn’t let yourself notice how much until now.
“Jason…”
“...Todd why are you about to taint Y/n”.
Jason spun around.
“Damian!” you yelled.
The small Wayne was standing in the doorway.
“Shortstack, you are too young to be using a fancy word like taint”, Jason recovered.
Tim and Dick emerged behind Damian in the doorway.
“What’s going on?” Tim asked.
“Todd was just about to be disgusting with Y/n in front of all of us”, Damian smirked, crossing his arms.
He knew he just set up Dick to take a fit.
The oldest brother was not pleased.
“Jason, really? Damian is right here and you didn’t think to chill?”
Jason rolled his eyes.
“We didn’t do anything Dicky. The kid here is being a drama queen. The only thing he walked in on us doing was some good old fashioned arguing”.
Jason knew he was making himself look like a major...well...dick, but he knew you wouldn’t want to commit to the family knowing about anything that might be going on between you two, however small just yet.
Dick rolled his eyes, and the three brothers walked in the doorway and into the kitchen to get water. You and Jason were always an entertaining spectacle for sure, but patrol was tiring, and they all needed to cool down.
Jason looked back to you. You were looking at your feet with your arms crossed and a barely contained smile on your face.
“The kid has good timing,” he huffed with a laugh.
“Oh fantastic”, you gazed at him, laughing back quietly.
“So, you want to talk some more about trauma?” He asked in a playful, but matter of fact tone.
“Maybe sometime, Red,” you smiled.
You turned and walked away.
“She’s gonna make me work for this”, he thought.
It had been so long since either of you had met your match, and you both were going to thoroughly enjoy this.
#writing requests#dc#jason todd#red hood#batfam#dick grayson#jason todd x reader#jason todd fluff#jason todd fic#jason todd funny#jason todd fanfiction#asks#dc ask game#batfam fic#batfam fanfic#jason todd fanfic#red hood fic#red hood funny#red hood fanfic#red hood fluff
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Gust - Preview
Ok, got this idea at work, been mulling it over please let me know what you think. mainly Thrandy based but i have some thoughts on a possible triangle with Glorfindel as well. Lots of drama and angst. :D
...
“Get those books on the fire!”
“Not a one left behind!”
Between puffs of cinders and massive plumes of smoke subtle whispers floated on he breeze blowing back into the book shop from whence the books had been taken. By the hundred characters billowing up invisibly to reach for their haven, anywhere but here had the fiery men flinching at every book collapsing to the ground on its own. Shouts of angered spirits soon flooded the streets sending those too frightened to risk gaining a curse for allowing the destruction. Flight however had them missing the mournful young girl left behind circling the cinders watching the last trace of her former life fade away. The first word of her book being her name, and at the flame devouring it the chains seemed to break free and fleeing the darkening world to the brilliantly glowing bookstore timidly her eyes scanned over all that was left. Which, quite frankly, was not very much.
One by one the standing books were inspected without a single brush of so much as a curled hair on her badly bruised and bloody head. That was her beginning, and the beginning of her new tale. The old one cut long before she had risen to power finding her courage within to save her people from an unseen enemy lurking from within their very own neighborhood cobbler profession. Shoes was your world’s downfall and after a glance back towards the door hearing thick unforgiving soles crossing the wooden floor that creaked and moaned with each step from the building of a man coming to inspect the problem. Up you reached to a book that seemed to be quite lovely by the artwork on the cover of a colorful choir singing bound in aged but unbent leather with three odd stones down the spine of it listing a name the book gave you little chance to read upon your touch.
Right to the heart of the Kingdom of Doriath from mid air a beaten and bloody body of a child fell heavily into the arms of two diving guards abandoning their posts in the presence of their King and Queen now hurrying over to inspect. Tenderly wounds were treated with soft words while echoes of an old life remained. Orphan, street child, unworthy, unloved, burden. Again and again they swirled and latched on sinking the poison a bit deeper into the blood. Eyes however did open with the curious King and Queen already assigning tasks to the child now to live in a cot with the kitchen staff. No one to mind you meant no one to pay and even Elves had their limits on children past a certain age to be cherished by the whole Kingdom as their own selflessly, even those immortal beings wished to not give unjust hope that a family would take you.
Not when you wouldn’t speak and seemed so mournful right away. Not when it seemed all you wished to do was scribble unknown texts and images into an empty journal given to you for distraction allowing time to mend. The wounds even far from gone all anything could see when looking at you was your little mangled self, well, not everyone. One boy that by the frantic race of your heart signaled the search for your other half to be through. Only it wasn’t, that wish could never come true. Not when mothers to suitors warned any but you.
One try, one single try for a friend and to silence you clung. Planned and determined, silent always with eyes lowered to hide the tears of truth. Days grew harder to hold it all in, always below and unwelcomed. Present but not participating in anything with little focus on the faces of strangers around you leaving you to nothing but memorizing outfits, color schemes and shoes to know to whom the orders came from. No one was waiting and no one ever would be, the guard is where you would go. There was silence there and freedom from curious stares at the polite, silent volcano of a creature with eyes able to stun like lightning of unshared beauty years had cultivated for just you. There you could think and earn and possibly die into that yearned for freedom this place denied.
So many moved on, so many had young and spouses with houses to care for, a single room apartment was all you required with all you had fitting into two simple bags. No one cared enough to come see that often you did not eat purely out of aggravation for having to sit at your single seating table alone. No friends, no family, just you and the little animals sneaking in to steal some of the corn you were trying to force yourself to at least nibble on a few kernels beating a small goal of an earlier promised amount of exactly two. Halfway to the archery grounds ignoring the shifting of the earth under your feet through another woozy spell from your self allowed hunger distant marching turned you off to the bridge leading up to this bubble protected Kingdom.
Feanoreans, loud and brimming with pride sneered and taunted the lone maiden across the bridge while the armies of Doriath were being called to arms. Flinching however to the eerily echoed snap of the fans said orphaned maiden had arrived with and fought to never lose. Across the backs of your hands swirling patterns and dots formed glowing silver arrows matching the one on your forehead above your now glowing eyes. A single swipe and a third of their armies tumbled backwards miles from the bridge, five heavy gusts was all it took and their retreat sounded to the click of those fans closing again. Wordlessly to the archery grounds you turned once they were gone and the armies were waiting for any possible fall back to try again that never came. To their eyes another Maiar had been dwelling within their walls, but you were so much more.
From a world of Avatars and Spirits colliding and dwelling in peace another stood watch over the balance, reborn to each reincarnation of the Avatar you remained. Peacefully dwelling in every family chosen by the Spirits who seemed to take enjoyment in placing you. Though this time a formerly angered Spirit to old justice you had served watched flinching to each blow and poisonous word bestowed upon you. The Avatar could endure pain, but the Pear, pain that deep rooted would poison all. The Pear was there when the Avatar and Spirits required, all together in unison even then they were helpless to this destruction wilting the hope in your heart to find peace again in a world all your own. Wars would come and go with dreams tucked away for steady work to be chosen and simple life of bed, forced meal, training and patrol then bath and bed again through months of silence in seas of Elves was what you would choose.
That same gentle boy now with a son of his own dwelled to your guess in lands not far from here, surely happy beyond words. While you sat sifting your fork through the lettuce in your salad in the annual guard luncheon with the Lord and Lady, the former who once again watched you not eating trapped in a silence he felt too far from your circle of comfort to inquire upon. Always watched and mentally commented on but never so much as being able to share your name, Pear was what you had told them because the other died in flames. It hurt too much to think it let alone say, chosen with such hope and goodness far beyond you now. A plan however was formed and in a stunning upward glance the glowing silver flecked purple eyes few had seen and was able to describe Lord Celeborn inhaled saying, “Miss Pear, my son in law Lord Elrond in Imladris requires some aid in guarding of the heirs to their keep through a visit from the King of Gondor. I have suggested your name for this task. You are one of our eldest warriors.”
Where an opposition or something was expected the petite moonlit creature stood and bowed her head, “I shall gather my bags and leave at once.”
To which he hastily replied, “Any of our finest steeds are welcome to your choosing.”
“Respectfully, My Lord, I can travel faster on my own. No use robbing another of their steed when there is no means to return from this visit soon. I shall leave my quarters pristine in the event you would not wish for my return, My Lord.”
Again your head bowed and leaving the food untouched out you hurried to grab your bags from the already spotless apartment to use a lift down from the massive tree top barracks before darting off in the direction of Rivendell fully in view of the lone guard who so long ago refused what he took of curious interest in learning a possible friend to a hopeful courtship of one so low to a Lord of his rank. After all, ages you had served Celeborn’s people since leaving Doriath, passing claim of the saved first set of twins over to more worthy guardians than you for the Princes now ruling over Numenor and the islands surrounding it.
Still no more than a grunt guard having never been promoted at lacking the knowledge it was your place to ask to be tested to move up, the most infuriating part for the confused Lord just trying to understand. Why you weren’t eating, speaking to no one on your own whims, refusing to leave your grunt position refusing them chance to move you up to grander housing. Why you always wore the same four outfits never attending celebrations or banquets for visiting guests of standing unless on guard, and probably the most painful of all, why your eyes remained lowered and distant from gaining sight of the one sure to be awed by your staggering beauty.
But he would never know if he would never ask. And where this trip was set to have been one of silence for you that pattern was to be shattered when that same gentle boy now King was to be attending this gathering and held none of the restrictive notions Lord Celeborn held as to delving for why his people might be suffering. And that was all he wanted, after all this time, even just for a moment for you to be his while since your first try to talk over purchasing bread from his family shop for the King’s table ended sharply in a shooing for the entrance of more worthy customers, he saw that glint of pain in your eyes and at the stab in his heart he knew he would always be yours. The King would again see that pain and demand answers and improvements.
Yet sometimes old wounds could still bleed and deep wide cracks left through the silence may leave a difficult path to chase when kindness has always been used as leverage and words are often lies. To mend your broken heart would certainly take time, and what a blessing said King and yourself happen to be immortal.
Lost to the ages is an unwritten law, when all written trace of a book is lost those inside might find shelter in another to begin again.
@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455
X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf, @pastelhexmaniac
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slow hands | ml
mark’s lips are soft, warm, and sweet. they feel perfect pressed against your cold, dry ones. you think it must not be very pleasant, kissing your weak, dying lips but mark doesn’t seem to mind, kissing your breath away at any given opportunity. it probably isn’t good for your health, being breathless so often.
but death by kisses sounds like a nice way to go.
pairing | mark lee x terminally ill!reader | fluff + angst | 11.6k |
warnings: swearing, depressing thoughts, death
cr to haechanforpresident2020
“I want ice cream.”
Taeyong frowns at you. You know what he’s going to say but you don’t want to hear it. You really, really want some ice cream.
“I haven’t had anything but soup for the past two weeks! Please, Taeyong, please!”
“But—“
“Please, please, please,” you cut him off. You know Taeyong is stubborn but you’re even more stubborn and you’re going to get some ice cream if it’s the last thing you do.
Taeyong starts saying “You-,” but, before he can get anything else out, you cut him off again.
“I need to get some fresh air. I’ve been cooped up in here for five hundred years; you need to let me out if you don’t want me to go crazy!”
You can see Taeyong‘s resolve breaking. You put on your biggest pout—Taeyong’s one and only weakness—and bat your eyelashes. He rolls his eyes at you but when you hear his resigned sigh, you know you’ve won.
“Fine—but don’t start celebrating just yet,” he snaps at the look of triumph that spreads across your face. “You have to be back in 20 minutes.” You enthusiastically nod your head and Taeyong sighs again. “Put on some sunscreen; it’s really sunny. Take an umbrella too. And put on your cap. Also, don’t forget—“
“Yongie,” you cut him off for the third time and you’re sure Taeyong would’ve yelled at you this time if you hadn’t called him Yongie. You never call him Yongie.
Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“Stop worrying,” you flash him your cute, kittenish smile and walk to the door. “It’s not like I’m going on a five-week hike through the desert. The ice cream parlor is literally just ten minutes away.”
“Still! Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?”
“No!” You’re already rushing out the door as you call out, “Thanks, Taeyong!”
You hear his faint, “Be careful” and chuckle, slowing down.
You cheerfully swing the umbrella you grabbed on your way out and hum as you make your way to the elevator. Just as you get to it, the shiny metal doors open and an old man, followed closely by his daughter, hobble out.
“Hello!” He greets you happily. “Going out?”
“Yup! For ice cream. Would you like to come with, Mr. Kim?”
Mr. Kim shakes his head, smiling sadly, “I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got a hot date with my bed.”
“Well, then don’t let me keep you,” you laugh. “But you should join me one day.”
“One day,” Mr. Kim’s smile grows even sadder. “If I’m not dead by then.”
You frown but don’t say anything. What could you even say to that? Fortunately, you were saved from having to come up with a response by Mr. Kim’s daughter, who mumbles, “Stop saying stuff like that,” and drags him away.
“Have fun, kid.” Mr. Kim waves you goodbye.
Still frowning, you wave back. “Yeah… thanks.”
With spirits significantly dampened, you trudge into the elevator. You know it’s not Mr. Kim’s fault but you still blame the old man for ruining your mood. You’re finally going to get ice cream after two weeks of craving it and now, thanks to old Mr. Kim, you can’t even enjoy it properly.
You grumble to yourself about your day being ruined but, as soon as you exit the elevator and slowly walk out of large, white gates, you instantly feel better. You love going out, leaving that horrid building you have to live in, breathing in air that smells grassy and windy and just so natural.
You walk slowly, swinging your umbrella with every step.
The sight of the ice cream parlor brings a smile to your face. You and Donghyuck used to go there all the time. Both of you went there so often that everyone who worked there knew you. You wonder if they still remember you. You haven’t been there in a while.
As soon as you enter, the first thing you notice is how many people there are. The place is absolutely crowded, which is understandable since it is the middle of summer but you were definitely not expecting to see so many people. You look around and nervously adjust your cap.
“Wow, is it really you?”
You jump and spin around to see, Chenle, your favorite employee at the ice cream parlor, smiling very happily at you from behind the counter.
“Hey, Chenle,” you grin, “Long time no see.”
“I know!” He exclaims and, after a moment, asks, “The usual?” Even though he knows the answer.
He’s already scooping your ice cream by the time you say, “Yep!”
After paying and thanking Chenle, you look around again. There’s no place for you to sit and you don't want to go back to Taeyong and his constant fussing just yet. Sighing, you walk out of the parlor to find a place to sit outside.
As soon as you leave the cool, air conditioned interior of the parlor, a gust of hot, sticky air hits you square in the face, making you wince. There are a few empty benches but all of them are directly under the sun. The only bench protected from the harsh rays is occupied by a boy and his guitar. Unfortunately for you, the boy doesn’t look like he’ll be getting up anytime soon.
You think about sitting in the sun before concluding that that’s a very bad idea. The only two options you have left are going back or sitting with the stranger.
You observe him for a few seconds. The boy looks to be around your age, maybe a year or two younger. He’s wearing a bright green cap, has a cone of bright white ice cream with blackish brown bits in his hand and has a very bright smile. Overall, he seems like a very happy person. He definitely doesn’t look mean or particularly threatening in any way and, even though you aren’t great with strangers, you’re by no means a shy person. So you slowly walk over to the bench with your friendliest smile on your face.
When you are just a step away, the boy finally notices you. He smiles kindly and the first thing you notice is his tiny dimple. You’re distracted by it for a second before you finally snap out of it and ask, “Can I sit here?”
The boy smiles a little wider, nodding. He makes room for you, scooting a little bit to the edge of the bench and dragging his guitar with him.
“Thanks,” you say, sitting down a little awkwardly because you seem to have forgotten how to act in front of ‘normal’ people. “Can I have your name?”
The boy shows off his tiny dimple once again. “I’m Mark.”
“So, um…” you decide to try and make conversation. Nice ice cream.”
You mentally scold yourself for sounding so awkward. That’s what lack of practice does to a person. You make a mental note to tell Taeyong about this to convince him to let you go outside more often so you don't become completely antisocial.
Mark doesn’t seem to think you’re too weird though because he flashes you another smile. “Yeah, it is. Cookies and cream. What’s yours?”
“Brambleberry crisp,” you proudly say. Not many people share your taste in ice cream which makes you feel very important and hipster.
Mark’s eyes grow a little wide. “Brambleberry crisp? I’ve never tried that before!”
“Well, you should,” you say seriously. “It’s the best ice cream flavor out there.”
“Really?” Mark looks skeptical. “I don’t know, I really like cookies and cream.”
“Cookies and cream is okay, I guess. It’s really sweet and perfect for little kids—”
“Hey!” Mark interrupts you, looking mildly offended. “Cookies and cream is not just for little kids!”
He’s flailing his hand around and trying to scold you but all you’re looking at is how the ice cream on Mark’s cone is dangerously close to falling off.
“Um Mark,” you try to warn the boy. “You might want to stop moving your hands so much.”
“Huh?”
Too late. Mark hasn’t even realized he’s holding an empty cone; he’s just staring at you with wide eyes, still looking somewhat offended.
“You dropped your ice cream.”
Mark’s face goes through a series of highly exaggerated expressions once he realizes what you’re talking about. First there’s confusion, of course. Then shock. Then anger. And then finally, despair.
“My ice cream!” He whines, staring at the fallen treat. “My baby!”
You laugh. “Stop being a drama queen. Just buy a new one.”
“I can’t just buy a new one,” Mark turns to glare at you.
“Why not?”
Mark sighs, deflating. “They’re all out of cookies an cream. I got the last scoop.”
“That’s perfect!” You jump to your feet. “Now you can try brambleberry crisp and see what you’ve been missing out on your whole life.”
It takes a bit of persuasion but you manage to convince Mark to spend the rest of his pocket money on, what you tell Mark will be, a life changing experience.
When Mark takes his first lick, you watch very closely. If Mark wasn’t so preoccupied with his ice cream right now, you’re sure he would have been creeped out by how intensely he’s being watched.
“Well?” You ask, a little apprehensive. “Do you like it?”
None of your friends are fond of brambleberry crisp. Donghyuck had even called it an ‘abomination’ once. You don't understand why. Even though you love it, you don't think the ice cream is interesting enough to deserve that title.
“It’s good!” Mark exclaims. “Not as good as cookies and cream, though. But still good.”
You groan, deeming him a lost cause.
As you both finish your ice cream, you just talk. You don’t really talk about anything in particular, topics ranging from the importance of ice cream in daily life to Mark’s adventures in Vancouver to which superpower would be the most fun to have.
“I’m not going to be all mainstream and say invisibility or flight,” you declare. “I think the power of lightning would be super cool.”
“The power of lightning?” Mark laughs. “So what, electricity?”
“Okay, not just lightning. Storms. The power of storms.”
“That sounds kind of lame to me,” Mark giggles at your gasp. “It also sounds very destructive. If I could have any superpower, I’d choose the power to heal.”
A year ago, you would have poked fun at anyone who’d choose healing as their superpower. But now, you think Mark may be on to something.
“What would you heal?”
Mark must have been expecting you to make a snide remark at his choice of power because he takes a minute to answer. “I’d heal hearts,” he finally says. “Broken hearts and corrupted minds and lost souls and, of course, ill bodies. I’d heal anything that needs healing and stay far away from things that don’t because, you know what they say, ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’” Mark says the last bit in English and you burst out laughing.
“Don’t tell anyone I said this,” you tell Mark when he’s finally gotten all his giggles out. “No one would ever believe you even if you did. But your superpower might actually be better than mine.”
Mark beams at you, smile so bright it almost blinds you.
Eventually, you remember you have a curfew and reluctantly check your watch. You almost have a heart attack when you see you spent not 20 but 80 minutes at the ice cream parlor. The thought of leaving Mark has you unwilling to get up. You’ve known the boy for an hour but it feels like you’ve known each other for years.
“Hey, Mark” you force yourself to say, interrupting Mark’s story about how he once got attacked by pigeons at his friend’s house back in Canada. “I kind of have to go now.”
“Oh,” Mark frowns, looking as disappointed as you feel.
“Yeah, I'm already late,” you sigh. You have to get back quick, before Taeyong files a missing persons report. Mark nods, waving a tiny wave when you stand up.
“See you around!” You wave back and hurriedly walk away, ignoring the little pang in your chest because you know you probably won’t ever see him around.
On the walk back, you feel sad but you also feel incredibly happy. You feel normal, something you haven't felt in a while.
Unfortunately, your happiness is gone as soon as you step in through the dreary hospital gates and come face to face with Taeyong. He has his phone in one hand, your phone in the other and a look of pure malice on his face.
Oh, shit.
“Where were you!” He screams, charging at you. “Twenty minutes. I said twenty minutes and you took over an hour! And you didn’t even take your phone with you! Why aren’t you using your umbrella? Are you tired? Are you alright? How could you just leave your phone? Seriously, what if something had happened?”
Taeyong keeps fussing over and chastising you all the way to the elevator.
“Sorry. Lost track of time,” you mumble, trying to tune out his incessant shrieking. He’s still lecturing you as he walks you to your room.
Forcing you into your bed, Taeyong tells you to rest. “Isn’t your hyper friend coming to visit today? You need to store up some energy to deal with him.”
You yell at Taeyong that you’re not tired and Donghyuck isn’t that hard to handle, but as soon as the nurse is out of the room, you slump down, exhausted, and fall asleep almost immediately.
Almost as soon as you fall asleep, you’re woken up by an obnoxiously loud voice yelling, “Holy shit!” right into your ear.
Groaning, you open your eyes to glare at your best friend. “What are you doing here so early? Weren’t you supposed to come at four?”
“I’m actually late,” Donghyuck pouts from where he’d just tripped over the chair next to your bed. “It’s already five o’clock.”
You’re a bit amazed because you’re so sure it was still two in the afternoon and that you had just fallen asleep. You feel more than a bit disoriented because apparently you’d been asleep for three whole hours.
“Why are you so late, then?” You eventually ask.
“Got sidetracked,” Donghyuck shrugs from the floor, not bothering to get up after his ungraceful fall. “There was this cute guy downstairs. He was singing to kids and looking so hot…” he trails off dreamily.
You roll your eyes. Typical Donghyuck. “Well, it’s almost time for my radiotherapy so we can’t hang out for long.”
“But I just got here!” Donghyuck starts whining, finally picking himself up off the floor.
“That’s your own fault.”
“It’s not my fault! If anything, it’s the cute guy’s fault! He’s hot and plays guitar, which means he’s exactly my type.”
You choose to ignore him and close your eyes, trying to go back to sleep until Taeyong comes to take you down to radiotherapy.
“Speaking of hot people who play guitar,” Donghyuck continues, “where’s Dr. Park?”
You wrinkle your nose, “Gross, Hyuck.”
“Don’t be such a downer.”
“I’m not being a downer,” you force yourself to open your eyes in order to glare at him. “I just think it’s creepy you have a crush on a fifty year old woman.”
“She’s not fifty!” Donghyuck squawks indignantly. “She’s like 35 tops! And it doesn’t even matter anyway,” he says, climbing into your bed. “Age is just a number.”
“Not if it’s illegal,” you snort.
“It’s not illegal, you twat. I'm already a legal adult!”
“Donghyuck, Dr. Park was already at least 17 when we were just babies—”
“Love is love!”
The door suddenly opens and Taeyong comes barging in. “What are you two yelling about? Donghyuck, get off the bed unless you want to attend radio too.”
You bid farewell to Donghyuck, who pouts again and hugs you, saying, “I’ll come back sometime next week. My parents are taking me on another stupid trip.”
You chuckle at his sour expression. Donghyuck’s family is always going on vacations, road trips and adventures. Donghyuck hates it but you’re actually kind of jealous of him.
Dr. Cho is already there when you get to the radio room, as you like to call it. It sounds a lot less scary than radiation lab.
You end up falling asleep in the middle of your radiation therapy and is woken up by a gentle pat on the arm by the doctor.
“You must have been really tired if you were able to sleep in that head mask,” Dr. Cho smiles teasingly.
It’s true, you were very tired. You’re still tired. All you want to do is go straight to bed and sleep until your mom gets back from work.
But no, you’re going to go up to the roof first because it’s part of your routine and you love it up there. It’s the only place you’re allowed to go that doesn’t smell like a hospital. It’s the only place where no one comes to bother you.
Well, except Taeyong who comes to drag you back to your room once it gets dark.
So, for the sake of your sanity, you slowly trudge up to the roof and, you breathe a sigh of relief as you open the door to greet the slowly darkening sky.
No one’s ever there at this time of the day, so you’re taken aback when you see someone already occupying the little ledge you usually sit on. At first you’re annoyed. The roof is the one place you can hide out without having people constantly fussing over you and now it’s been stolen from you.
But as you inch closer to the person, you realize something. You stare at the person’s back, their guitar, their suspiciously familiar bright green cap.
Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Mark?”
Mark, or maybe it’s not Mark, yelps and jumps onto his feet, clutching his guitar to his chest. Your heart leaps. It’s Mark. All thoughts of your safe space being invaded are gone in an instant.
When he sees you, Mark’s startled expression morphs into one of absolute delight.
“Hey!” He exclaims, putting his guitar down and scrambling to you. “What are you doing here?”
“No, what are you doing here?” You ask, barely believing you’re actually seeing Mark.
“I’m a volunteer here,” Mark says, proudly. He stands a little straighter, showing off his stupidly handsome again. “Today is my first day, actually. I play songs for the kids. Help cheer them up and stuff,” his smile wavers a little and then comes back in full force, his beauty almost blinding you for the second time today. “What about you? What are you doing here? Are you also a volunteer?”
“Uh, no,” you shift uncomfortably. “I'm a patient.”
Mark just nods a little bit and, thankfully, doesn’t ask any more questions.
“So,” you start, eager to change the subject. “You play guitar for sick kids, huh? How noble of you.”
Mark blushes and walks back over to the ledge where his guitar is sitting. “It’s nothing like that. I just love playing and, for some reason, kids seem to love my music. Plus,” he smiles when you sit yourself next to him, “my motives aren’t entirely selfless.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, watching Mark play with the strings of his guitar.
“I know one of the kids and,” he pauses. “He’s not doing too well. So, I want to spend as much time with him as possible and make him smile as much as I can before…”
You ignore the familiar feeling of heaviness in your chest and gasp at Mark. “You monster!” You clutch your heart, “And here I was thinking you were some sort of kindhearted saint but no, you’re just a disgusting, self-centered asshole.”
“Sorry you had to find out like this,” Mark solemnly bows his head while you shake your own, muttering, “selfish, selfish, selfish.”
You continue teasing Mark, who laughs loud enough to wake up the entire hospital.
“Those kids were really sweet,” Mark says, looking at the ferris wheel in the distance once you’ve run out of clever ways to tease each other. “I wrote a few songs just for today and they seemed to really enjoy them.”
You want to ask Mark to play something but Taeyong decides to pick that moment to show up.
“You little br–!” He yells, swinging the metal door to the roof open only to come to a stop. Both you and Mark turn to look at him.
“Oh, hello.” He says, clearly surprised to see another human on the roof with you. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”
All of a sudden, he smirks and, from the way his eyes are flitting from you to Mark, you know exactly what Taeyong is thinking.
“Okay, well I guess that’s my cue to leave,” you hastily jump up and scurry over to Taeyong before he can say anything embarrassing. “Bye, Mark!” You call out before completely disappearing from his line of sight.
You’re given a lot of time to feel guilty about abruptly leaving Mark. As soon as you step in the elevator together for the second time today, Taeyong starts nudging you.
“Who was that?” He asks, looking a little excited.
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “A friend, I guess. His name is Mark. He plays guitar for the kids downstairs.”
Taeyong keeps asking questions about Mark even when you’re all tucked up in bed.
“Taeyong!” You yell when he asks you Mark’s shoe size. “First of all, why do you even need to know that?” You narrow your eyes at him. “And second of all, I literally just met him today; I don’t know his whole life story for god’s sake.”
“I’m just curious okay!” Taeyong defends himself. “And I'm glad you’re making friends who seem well-mannered and polite.”
You chuckle at the obvious shade Taeyong is throwing at your best friend. You love Donghyuck but Taeyong is right about the boy not being the most polite and well-mannered teenager out there.
You hear your mom enter your room a few minutes after Taeyong leaves.
“You’re up!” is the first thing she says when she sees her child. “I was worried you’d be asleep and I wouldn’t get to talk to you.”
“It’s just ten o’clock, Mom. I don’t get sleepy until at least after midnight.” A yawn immediately follow your words.
Your mom smile knowingly at you, sitting down next to your bed. “Taeyong told me you went to get ice cream all by yourself today.”
“Yeah, I’m a big kid now, aren’t I?” You bat your eyelashes at your mom who giggles.
“My baby is so precious,” she coos, pinching your cheeks.
“Mom, get off me!” You flail, pushing your mother away. “I thought you said you wanted to talk to me, not manhandle me.”
“Oh, yeah,” her smile disappears and she looks a little guilty. “I have to go out of town for a few days. I’m so sorry, honey. I wish I could skip it. I really don’t want to leave you. I even told my supervisor that I can’t go but this is a very important business trip and they really need me and—”
“Mom,” you cut off your mom’s rambling. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. I understand.” You say it as sincerely as you can, trying to show your mother that you really do understand.
She has a job that keeps her so busy she can barely see you even though you live together. Sometimes you feel bad for your mom. She works from early morning to late at night every day, sometimes even on weekends. You know she mostly does it because she genuinely loves her job, but also so she can pay your hospital bills without having to give up food for a month.
“I should tell Taeyong,” she says, grabbing your hand.
“I need to make sure he takes extra good care of you. And doesn’t let you run away.”
“I'm not going to run away, Mom.”
—
When you go up to the roof the next day, Mark is already there, strumming his guitar, looking lazily at the large wheel in the distance.
“Hello,” you say, sitting down.
Mark stops playing and, immediately, you miss the soft music.
“Hey,” Mark smiles. “Do you come up here every day?”
You nod, “Every day after radio.”
“Radio?” Mark asks, slightly frowning as he puts his guitar back in its case.
Oh dear. Usually you avoid talking about all things related to your shitty health so you won’t have to see the looks of pity being thrown at you. You hate yourself whenever you accidentally let anything slip.
“Radiation therapy,” you tell Mark.
Just like the other day, Mark just nods and asks no further questions.
You wonder if he’s uncomfortable.
For a second, there’s a bit of tense silence, then you pout a little bit and point at Mark’s guitar case.
“Hey, why’d you put it away?”
“What? My guitar? Mark asks, looking confused.
“Yeah,” you pout even harder. “Can you play something for me? Please? Please, please, please?”
Mark laughs, “You’re worse than the kids.”
He takes his instrument out of its case a little excitedly, spurred on by your begging, almost banging it on the hard floor.
“Mark! Holy shit, calm down!” You yell.
Mark smiles sheepishly and positions the guitar on his lap.
“I’ll play you the kids’ favorite song,” he says, eyes crinkling. “They made me play it nine times today!”
Mark plays a happy tune and starts singing in what sounds like English. He has a nice, soft voice that makes goosebumps appear on your arm.
Without realizing it, you start swaying side to side with the beat, laughing when Mark gives you a smug look and says, “That’s the power of my music.”
Mark plays more songs for you and you hum along to some of them, making Mark look even more pleased. Mark tells you that you should come down to watch him play for the kids one day.
When Mark puts the guitar down, you immediately starts showering him with compliments.
“Those were some pretty impressive fingering skills, Mark Lee,” you tease, making Mark burst into a fit of giggles and blush a deep red.
Mark, in turn, compliments your humming, although his compliment actually has innocent intentions. You tell him you’d been in your high school’s choir and you used to love singing all the time.
“You don’t anymore?”
“Not really.”
Mark doesn’t ask why.
When Taeyong finally comes to get you, the only source of light on the roof is the tiny crescent moon above the two of you and the lights from the ferris wheel; but it’s too far away to actually light up anything.
“See you tomorrow!” You say, getting up and dusting off the bottom of your pants.
“Looking forward to it!” Mark calls back as you rush inside to catch up with Taeyong.
It’s your third meeting with Mark when Mark finally asks what you’re in the hospital for.
“What do you think I'm in a cancer hospital for?” You tease, laughing a little at the panicked look that settles on Mark’s face. “Don’t worry,” you say, putting a hand on Mark’s knee. “I’m just messing with you.”
Mark doesn’t look reassured though, so you decide to just tell him.
“Brain cancer. Or anaplastic astrocytoma, but I personally think brain cancer sounds less scary, don’t you?”
Mark’s eyes widen comically and he looks so concerned, you almost feel bad for telling him. Mark seems to realize he’s making a strange expression because he quickly changes it into a poker face, though you can still see hints of worry and sadness.
“Oh,” he says.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” you apologize, removing your hand from where it had been resting on Mark’s knee.
“No, no, no!” Mark hurriedly says. “Don’t be sorry! I was the one who asked.” After a pause, he hesitantly asks, “Is it—are you getting better?”
You honestly don’t know if you are. You can’t really say you feel much better but according to Dr. Cho, you’re recovering really well and according to Dr. Park, you’ll be better in no time. You don't even know if you want to believe them because it seems way too good to be true.
You don’t want to burden Mark though, so you just tell him, “Yeah, my doctors say I’ll be fine.”
At this, Mark looks relieved and continues asking questions that you’re tired of answering.
“I had a pretty rare tumor that was all tentacle-y and gross and it looked like long fingers were holding my brain,” you explain. You sneak a look at Mark, who’s wearing an unreadable expression. “Anyway,” you continue, “I had surgery and they removed it, or as much of it as they could. Now I'm doing radio to get rid of the rest.”
Mark nods, softly saying, “I'm sorry you have to go through all of this.”
“Well, it’s not the most fun thing in the world,” you chuckle. “But at least I'm still alive.” For now.
“And,” you add, “I get to miss school.”
Mark mumbles something about never complaining about his life ever again, making you smile.
You don’t talk much after that, both of you lost deep in your own thoughts. You’re just watching the ferris wheel spin round and round when Mark’s phone suddenly rings, filling the strange silence wit his jarring ringtone.
“It’s my friend,” Mark tells you before answering the call.
You try not to listen but it’s quiet and you’re the only ones on the roof so you still hear Mark’s say, “Hey Yukhei,” and, “No, I'm still at the hospital.” And, “Yeah, I'm coming.” And, “No, it’s okay.”
When he finally hangs up, Mark looks a little disappointed. “Sorry, but I think I should go now.”
You wave off the apology and say goodbye to Mark with a small wave. You stare at the ferris wheel for a few more minutes before thinking you might as well go back too. It’s a little strange Taeyong hasn’t come to drag you down yet.
What’s even stranger is, when you enter your room, your mom is already there.
“Where have you been?”
“Roof,” you tiredly tell her, climbing into bed.
Your mother smiles and walks over to sit on a chair next to your bed. “Were you getting some fresh air?”
You sleepily nod.
“Don’t fall asleep just yet,” your mom frowns, shaking you fully awake. “I brought you soup!”
You groan. “Soup, really? I think I’ve had enough soup for a lifetime.”
“It’s homemade! You won’t get to have my homemade soup until next week.”
You groan again but graciously accept the soup when your mom hands it to you.
The next morning, you’re softly woken up by your mother, who quietly whispers, “I'm going now, okay? See you in five days. I love you. Bye.”
She kisses your forehead and you mumble, “Bye, mom.”
You hear her chuckle before falling back asleep.
It’s one of those days when you’re bored and hate your life. Why are you stuck in a hospital? Why do you have cancer? Why is your life such a mess?
Taeyong tries to cheer you up whenever this happens. He usually just calls Donghyuck who always comes running over to hang out and effectively make you feel better. But Donghyuck isn’t here.
“Why don’t you hang out with your roof friend?” Taeyong suggests.
“I can’t,” you moan into your pillow. “We only meet on the roof after radio.”
“Didn’t you say he plays for Dr. Kim’s kids downstairs?”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t you meet him there?”
You end up excitedly running all the way to the pediatric wing. You bump into Dr. Kim on the way and the poor doctor almost falls. “Sorry, Dr. Kim,” you hurriedly call out, still running.
You don't know if you’re more excited to see Mark so early in the day or to see Mark play for the kids he never stops talking about. Probably both.
As you enter the pediatric wing, you can see Mark surrounded by children, and even a few parents, in the tiny waiting room. Smiling at the sight of a dozen little boys and girls looking up at Mark in awe, you quietly step in the room, careful not to attract any attention to yourself.
You find a small unoccupied beanbag chair and drag it to a corner of the room to watch Mark in peace. Mark still hasn’t seen you and you’re glad you can see Mark in his element.
Most of the songs that Mark plays are the same ones he plays on the roof and you find yourself humming along to more than a few.
Mark finally sees you in the middle of a song and pauses for a beat, flashing one of his blinding smiles. As soon as the song is over, Mark announces that it’s time to take a break and hurries over to you.
“You came!” Mark squeals like a little girl. “Did you like it? How was it?”
Before you can answer though, something small runs into Mark’s legs and wraps two tiny arms around them, yelling, “Mark hyung! You were so good!”
You laugh at the look of shock on Mark’s face as the little boy gives his legs a squeeze and runs away. “Well, there’s your answer.”
“That’s Jisung,” Mark tells you, who’s watching the kid run up to Dr. Kim. “His mom is friends with my mom.”
“Is he your selfish reason for coming here?” You ask.
Mark smiles, plopping down on the edge of your bean bag chair. “Yeah, but now that I’ve grown way too fond of all the kids, they’re all my selfish reasons for coming here.”
You shake your head, sighing. “I’ve never met anyone so selfish in my life.”
Soon, Mark goes back to the middle of the room to play again and, minutes later, Taeyong arrives to take you to radio. Mark is too busy to notice you leaving but it’s okay because you see each other again on the roof.
It becomes a sort of routine for you. Every day, before radio, you go to see Mark play for the kids. Then, after radio, you go to see Mark on the roof, and usually make him play again. By now, you have almost all of Mark’s songs memorized, sometimes even singing along with him even though you have no idea what he’s saying.
Whenever you sing along with him, Mark lowers his own voice so he can hear yours better. That is, until you catch on and seal your lips, shaking your head at a pouting Mark.
—
One day, Mark asks you where your parents are. It’s so out of the blue that you’re a little taken aback. Mark looks embarrassed and apologizes for being nosy. You tell him he apologizes too much.
“My parents are divorced,” you say. “And yes, I know my life sounds like a sad John Green book; the kid with cancer has divorced parents and was raised by their single mother who is never around.” Mark cracks a smile at that so you continue. “Anyway, my dad lives in China with his wife, and my mom is currently away on a business trip.”
“Does she go out of town a lot?” Mark asks cautiously, as if he’s afraid of overstepping boundaries.
“She used to,” you shrug. “She stopped after I got sick but apparently this was unavoidable. She works a lot though. Like, all day long. That’s why I'm here, actually. You don’t actually have to stay at the hospital just for radio but my mom didn’t want me home alone.”
Mark looks hesitant to ask any more questions and you don't really want to talk about this anymore so you poke Mark’s guitar. “Aren’t you going to play for me today?”
Mark’s smile, once again, tries to blind you. “Of course I am.”
When you get back to your room that night, you have the urge to call your mom. All that mom talk on the roof made you miss her.
She sounds a little breathless, albeit happy to hear from you, when she picks up.
“Mom, are you busy?” You ask, instantly regretting calling and disturbing her.
“A little bit, but it’s okay. Is something wrong?”
“No, I just missed you,” you mumble, snuggling into your covers.
The line is quiet for a minute and you think your mom must have hung up on you until you hear a sniffle.
“Oh,” she says softly. “I miss you too. So much.”
“Are you about to cry?” You ask. “Mom, please don’t cry.”
“No, no, don’t worry,” she tells you, voice breaking.
You sigh, “So, things are really busy?”
“Yeah,” your mom sounds like she’s already crying. “I know I was supposed to come back this week but things are really not going according to plan and it looks like I might have to stay longer.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” you soothe, wishing you could be with her to make her stop crying.
“I’m so sorry,” she keeps apologizing in her shaky voice. “I shouldn’t have left you. Now that I'm here, I can’t just get up and leave until everything is done.”
You keep comforting your mom, telling her that it’s okay and you understand until you hear someone on her end calling her name. You tell her not to cry one last time before you hang up and tell yourself the same thing before you go to sleep.
It’s one of the warmer nights on the roof when you leave your jacket up there. Unfortunately, you only remember about it when you’re already comfortably sitting in bed. Feeling grumpy, you stomp your way back up to the roof to retrieve it.
When you get there, though, you’re surprised to see your jacket is not on the ledge where you left it, but with Mark, who still hasn’t left.
“Mark!” You yell, startling him. “What are you still doing here?”
“Uh,” Mark looks at you and then the jacket in his hands. “I was going to give this to you.”
“So, you stayed up here for half an hour to do that?” You raise your eyebrows.
Mark shrugs, “I didn’t want to go home just yet.”
“Are you going home now?”
“No.”
“Then come to my room!” You poke Mark’s nose. “We can talk some more.”
The next day, when Taeyong comes to whisk you away, you ask Mark, “Are you going to go home now?”
When Mark says no, you smile.
“Well then you’re coming with me!” You latch yourself to Mark’s arm and drag him downstairs with you.
It becomes a new routine. You stay up on the roof, talking while Mark plays his guitar as background music. Then, when Taeyong comes to take you down, you take Mark with you.
One day, while you’re both on the roof, you ask Mark why he doesn’t like going home.
“I wish I could go home,” you say, trying to keep the longing out of your voice. “Or at least leave here. I’d never voluntarily spend time at this place.”
“Well,” Mark says, not looking at you. “I like spending time with you.”
You’re glad it’s dark outside because you can feel your cheeks heating up.
“How about before you started coming to my room?” You ask. “Why didn’t you go home then?”
“I don’t know,” Mark shrugs. “I just don’t like going home I guess.”
You know there’s more to it than that but you let it be. For now at least.
—
Donghyuck finally comes back from his family vacation on one of the rare days you don’t have radio. He barges into your room early in the morning, shouting, “I’m here! Did you miss me?”
Taeyong, who had been fussing over you, groans. “Hello, Donghyuck. Welcome back.”
“Thanks, Yong,” Donghyuck winks at him, hopping onto your bed and hugging you. “I missed you!”
Before you can tell him to get off, Taeyong glares at Donghyuck, sternly saying, “Lee Donghyuck. Get off the bed now.”
Donghyuck whines but still complies, mostly because not even he has the guts to disobey Taeyong. Still, when the nurse leaves the room, Donghyuck climbs back on the bed, cuddling up next to you.
Donghyuck and you talk (nonstop for hours because it’s you and Donghyuck) until you realize it’s way past the usual time you go to see Mark downstairs.
You think about ditching Donghyuck but you’re too nice and end up taking Donghyuck, who’s still talking with you.
Donghyuck loudly gasps as soon as he sees Mark and has you instantly regretting your decision to bring him.
“He’s that guy!” Donghyuck whispers into your ear when you sit down at the back of the room together. You wrinkle your nose at the feeling of your best friend’s hot breath in your ear.
“What guy?”
“The guy I told you about!” Donghyuck says excitedly. “The one who’s hot and plays guitar!”
“Oh yeah,” you remember.
“You know him?” Donghyuck asks, wide eyed.
“Yeah we’re friends.”
Donghyuck gives you a look.
“What?” You ask, sensing trouble.
“Are you fucking?” Donghyuck smirks and you choke on your spit. “Doing the do? Sexing each other up?”
“Donghyuck!” You hiss, looking around to make sure nobody heard Donghyuck’s obnoxiously loud voice.
“Are you?”
“No! We’re just friends!”
Donghyuck gives you a disbelieving look. You choose to ignore him.
“So, what’s his name?” Donghyuck eventually asks.
Reluctantly, you tell him, “Mark.”
“Not Korean?”
“He was born in Canada.”
“Interesting…” Donghyuck looks thoughtful.
“What,” you halfheartedly ask.
“Nothing, it’s just,” Donghyuck leans in a little closer, “Mark is really hot, man. If you don’t want him, give him to me.”
You laugh. “What about Dr. Park?”
“Alas,” Donghyuck sighs dramatically. “I am in love with two beautiful people!”
Once Mark puts down his guitar and finishes saying goodbye to the kids, you take Donghyuck over to him to introduce your two friends to each other.
Surprisingly, Donghyuck doesn’t flirt with Mark.
You'll never admit it, but you’re kind of relieved.
—
Two days before the end of your radiation, Mark and you walk into your room to find someone sleeping on the chair next to your bed.
“Uh, you,” Mark says. “There’s a stranger in your room.”
You smile. “Looks like Mom’s back.”
On your last day at the hospital, you have a checkup with Dr. Park and then radio with Dr. Cho. You go to see Mark during the five minutes you have between the two.
“I want to hear you play again,” you whine, poking Mark’s guitar.
“Hopefully, you will soon,” Mark smiles, pulling you into a hug.
“Hopefully not here,” you mumble into Mark’s neck, making him giggle and push you away.
“My mom is talking to Dr. Park right now,” you tell Mark. Mark hums. “Guess what?” You sound way too enthusiastic for what you’re about to say. “She said I’ll have to come back for a checkup every week.”
“Am I hearing right?” Mark gasps, pulling away from you. “Are you excited about having to come to the hospital every week?”
“It’s not because of you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you glare at Mark. “I'm excited because I’ll get to see little Jisung again.”
Mark pouts. “So you’re not happy, you’ll get to see me?”
“Seeing you will be the only downside of coming back.”
All throughout your radio, you try to come up with a plan to try and see Mark as much as you can. Maybe you can convince Mark to visit you at home since you don't actually want to visit the hospital aside from your weekly checkups.
You’re still thinking about it when Dr. Cho pats you on the back at the end of your last radiotherapy session. “Your hair is finally going to grow back,” he says with a grin. “Maybe not as nicely as you wish, though. It’ll probably be very patchy. Actually it might not even grow back at all. I once had a patient who…”
As Dr. Cho keeps rambling, you decide that you'll invite Mark to your house today. And then you’ll keep on inviting him. And that can be the new routine. Mark can come over to your house every day.
You don’t even realize Dr. Cho has stopped talking until the man pats you on the back again and tells you to take care.
Satisfied with your plan, you rush up to the roof to find Mark, your mom yelling “Don’t take too long!” as you whizz past her. You’re out of breath by the time you make it up there.
“What?” Mark says, surprised. “Aren’t you—”
“Come over to my place!” You breath out. Mark looks stunned and you laugh. “Let’s hang out at my house! It’ll be fun and my mom will drop you off later.”
Slowly, Mark smiles. “Are you sure? Haven’t you gotten tired of me?”
“Shut up,” you shove him. “Have you gotten tired of me?”
Mark’s signature smile shows up with his tiny dimple blinding you for the millionth time since you’ve met Mark. “Never.”
“Then come on!” You wrap your hand around Mark’s wrist and pull him all the way to your mom’s car.
—
Your plan ends up working. Mark doesn’t come over every day, but he does visit you a lot. Those days are your favorite days. You get to just sit at home and talk to Mark almost all night long.
You’re in your room, texting Mark, when your mom comes in, pouting. It’s one of her rare off days and since the moment you woke up, she’s been hovering around you and pouting.
“Mom, why have you been pouting all day?” You ask, putting your phone down. Your mom’s eyes light up a little and she sits down on your bed.
“I was thinking,” she says excitedly. “Since we never get to spend time together, how about we have a fun day!”
“A fun day?” You repeat. “Right now?”
“Yes! Come on! We’ll have so much fun! We can have ice cream and play board games and do puzzles and watch your favorite cartoons!”
That’s exactly what you and your mom do. Normally, you wouldn’t consider playing board games and solving puzzles to be fun activities, but you actually enjoys spending time with your mom doing, what you tell her are, old people activities.
Even though not much physical exertion is required to do those old people activities, you’re exhausted and sleepy by the time the sun goes down.
Your mom notices you falling asleep in the middle of the cartoon marathon and drags you to bed, tucking you in. She sits down next to you and starts singing you to sleep, just like she used to do when you were seven years old and missed your dad.
“Hey, Mom?” You mumble, opening your eyes a tiny bit to look up at your mother. “Aren’t you tired of being single? I mean dad’s already married and you haven’t even dated anyone since,” you shudder, “Dr. Cho.”
Your mom laughs, “I’m married too, you know. To my work. And I can honestly say it’s the best husband I’ve ever had.”
You roll your eyes under your closed eyelids. “But aren’t you lonely?”
“Of course not! I have you.” She kisses you on the forehead, “Now sleep.”
—
Your fourth weekly checkup ends up being on the day your mom has a meeting and Donghyuck has to leave for another family trip. You’re not upset though because it means you can, after a whole month of just hanging out with Mark in your room and occasionally the children’s waiting room, finally hang out with Mark on the roof.
Getting to the hospital is a bit of a hassle. You have to take the bus and walk a little so by the time you make it to Dr. Park’s room, you’re almost completely worn out.
Dr. Park gives you good news, telling you that you can come for your check up in three weeks.
You thank her and eagerly go up to the roof. Mark isn’t there yet so you decide to hide. After exactly 14 minutes, Mark arrives, humming one of his songs. You quietly creep up behind him, crouching a little. Mark is too preoccupied with his humming and doesn’t notice you getting closer.
You’re not sure if you should pounce on Mark or push him or just yell ‘BOO!’
You decide none of the above and inch close to his neck. As quietly as you can, you suck in a breath and blow.
The reaction is immediate. Mark screams, falling to the floor and clutching his hands to his neck. He buries his face in his knees and cries, “Get away! Please! I don’t have any money!”
You start laughing so hard you can barely breathe. You fall to the ground and point at Mark, who has finally lifted his face from his knees and is looking at you with shock and betrayal all over his face.
“I wish I saw your face,” you wheeze. “That scream was priceless!” You start rolling around on the dirty floor, clutching your stomach and still laughing.
“You’re so mean!” Mark yells, crawling over to you and climbing on you. “I hate you, go away!”
You try to roll away from under him but Mark pulls you back and, somehow, you two end up wrestling on the dirty roof, getting dust and who knows what else all over your clothes.
“I concede!” You finally give up, tapping your cap on the floor when Mark has you pinned down underneath him. You feel like you don’t have a single breath in your body and you’re sure your face is bright red. And not just from exhaustion.
“What kind of monster are you, fighting a sickly person?” You pant as Mark helps you up.
“You started it,” is all Mark says before ruffling your hair.
When you settle down, you smile at the ferris wheel.
“I missed that guy,” you say, pointing at the large, circular structure.
“He missed you too,” Mark ruffles your hair again.
You swat his hand away. “You have got to stop doing that,” you warn, giving Mark the most threatening glare you can create.
In response, Mark does it again. “You’re cute,” he laughs when you scream.
—
One day, Mark shows up to your door unannounced with two tubs of ice cream. One cookies and cream and one brambleberry crisp.
“Today was my last day at the hospital,” he tells you, as he searches through your kitchen for two spoons.
You walk over to help him, asking, “Why? Did you get tired of it?”
“Of course not!” Mark gasps. “I just won’t have time to go every day now because school is about to start.”
Oh yeah, school. You forgot that was even a thing. The last time you had gone to school was the day you fainted in front of everyone in the cafeteria.
“So,” you start, handing Mark a spoon and leading the way to your room. “You’re probably going to be really busy, right?”
Mark’s dimple shows. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll still come visit.”
“I wasn’t worried!” You quickly protest but you don’t bother hiding the huge grin that spreads over your face.
—
“You know,” Donghyuck says, lying with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish on your bed. “I’m worried Mark is going to steal you from me.”
You snort, shoving Donghyuck off your bed. “You’re the one who never visits anymore.”
“You know that’s because my family is always taking me to places I don’t want to go!”
“Yes, yes,” you rub your temples. “Now, will you please stop screaming, you’re giving me a headache.”
“Sorry,” Donghyuck whines, climbing back on your bed, this time pulling you with him. “Go to sleep, babe,” he coos, snuggling into your chest.
Donghyuck ends up falling asleep first, your headache keeping you awake. You think about how you really do spend a lot more time with Mark than Donghyuck. But Mark won’t steal you away from your best friend.
Hanging out with Mark is different than hanging out with Donghyuck, or any of your other friends for that matter. Whenever you’re with Mark, you just feel
different.
You never really feels great, health wise, but two weeks after your last checkup, you’re at an all time low. You haven’t done anything all week but you’re still tired. You’re still only eating Dr. Park approved food but your stomach hurts. You’re sleeping well and haven’t been exposed to any loud noises, not even Donghyuck, but your head hurts.
On top of all that, Mark and Donghyuck both started going back to school, so you don’t have anyone to help cheer you up or distract you either. All in all, you feel sickly and weak and just awful.
You mope around the house, complain to your mom as soon as she gets home and send your two best friends lots of sad texts on a daily basis. Donghyuck usually replies with some nonsense only he understands and Mark doesn’t even reply, which only makes you feel worse.
“Aw, is your boyfriend ignoring you?” Donghyuck teases you whenever you complain about Mark’s silence.
“Shut up,” is always your clever retort.
—
Your moping has risen to a max by Saturday. It’s the weekend, which means Donghyuck and Mark don’t have school but they still can’t visit you because Donghyuck has to go to a family get together at his grandmother’s and Mark is still missing.
By Saturday afternoon, you just want to crawl into a little ball and sob. Why do you only have two friends? Why does your mom work on weekends? Why are you too sick to go to school? Why are you so desperate for human interaction that you want to go to school?
So many questions and no answers.
Frustrated to the point of insanity, you yell, “Shut the fuck up, will you?” At your phone when it starts ringing. You think about chucking it out your bedroom window until you see who’s calling.
Mark •̀ᴗ•́
You scramble to pick it up, almost actually throwing it out the window in the process.
“Mark!” You yell. “Where were you?”
Mark laughs, “Missed me?”
“You wish,” you spit, it’s not like Mark can see you’re smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.
“Are you free right now?”
“No, I'm very expensive.”
“That sounds like something Donghyuck would say,” Mark groans. “Just answer the question, will you?”
“Yes, I'm free. Why? Are you coming over?” You’re already excited. So much so that even your headache goes away.
“Yeah, and I'm taking you out so put on some decent clothes. No pajamas.”
“Out?” You inquire. “Out where?”
“It’s a secret. See you in ten,” Mark says before hanging up.
Your mind is a complete mess but you somehow manage to make yourself look presentable by the time Mark rings the doorbell.
Mark doesn’t even give you time to say hi, pulling you out the door as soon as you open it. “Lock it, fast. We have somewhere to be!” He says, jumping up and down.
“Calm down,” you laugh, closing the door. “So, where are we headed?” You ask once you’ve checked, and Mark’s double checked, that the door is locked and you can finally leave.
“It’s a surprise,” is all Mark says.
Mark tries to blindfold you but you refuse right away. “People are going to think we’re some kinky couple, Mark,” you hiss, shoving the blindfold Mark handed to you in your pocket.
“But how will you be surprised if we know where we’re going?” Mark frowns.
You sigh,“How about I close my eyes?”
“Okay!” Mark looks satisfied. “But you have to keep them closed the whole two bus rides there, okay? No peeking?”
“Two bus rides?” You nearly shout. Mark nods excitedly and you have no choice but to sigh again and mumble, “Fine.”
Agreeing to keep your eyes closed may not have been a bad idea, you think as Mark helps you off the second bus with a tight grasp on your hand. Mark held your hand the entire time. Even while you both were just sitting still inside the buses.
You kept your promise and didn’t peek, partly because you wanted to be surprised as much as Mark wanted to surprise you, but also because you didn’t want to see the disapproving looks you knew strangers were giving towards you and Mark.
“Okay,” Mark says, after what feels like an hour but was probably just a few minutes of walking. “You can open your eyes now!”
At first you have no idea what you’re looking at. All you see are a bunch of gears and metal rods. Then Mark lifts your head a little bit and you realize you’re standing in front of a ferris wheel. The same ferris wheel you and Mark used to look at every day from the roof.
You’re touched.
“Mark,” you say, prying your eyes away from the wheel and looking at him. You don’t know what to say but Mark saves you from having to come up with anything.
“You’re welcome. Now come on!”
You ride the ferris wheel four times together—even though it actually isn’t all that exciting—just because you want to and you can. You still feels overwhelmed as Mark takes you around to all the food stalls lined under the wheel.
Even as fatigue starts to make you a bit wobbly, you don't want to leave. You’re filled with so many feelings towards Mark you can’t think straight. You look closely at Mark’s face as he’s shoving some corn into his mouth and talking about all the types of barn animals he’s met.
Mark has a really nice face. It’s smooth and clear and houses that wonderful dimple. You just can’t get over how cute that dimple is. You just want to poke it. It’s so tiny and charming and right next to Mark’s lips. Mark’s lips are really nice too. They’re full and pink and, even though his bottom lip has a bit of corn on it at the moment, they’re perfect.
You wonder what it would feel like to kiss his lips. Your head spins a little at the thought. Maybe you should try it. If Mark doesn’t kiss you back, you can just pass it off as a joke.
“Mark,” you say, still staring at his lips.
Wait, why does Mark have four lips all of a sudden? Aren’t people supposed to have two? Or is it one? What’s the average number of lips on a person?
“Are you okay?” You faintly hear Mark ask, his four lips getting closer. If Mark’s lips are so close, why does his voice sound so far away?
You’re about to call Mark’s name again and ask why everything feels so weird but before you can even open your mouth, everything goes dark.
—
The first thing you find out when you wake up is that your tumor is back. It’s regrowing, and at an abnormally fast rate.
After crying for nearly an hour, you call Mark to apologize for fainting on him in the middle of a public space at almost ten o’clock at night, but Mark doesn’t even let you get the words out of your mouth.
“You’re up?” He screams into the phone, making you wince. “Why didn’t anyone call me?”
“Calm down, Drama Queen,” you smile. “I'm calling you now.”
Mark seems to know why you called him because whenever you get close to apologizing, he says, “Don’t you dare,” and changes the subject.
Your first surgery had been scary but the second one is even scarier. You hear Dr. Park telling your mom that your chances of survival have gone down, that it’s a fairly simple surgery but the fact that your cancer cells have started regrowing at an alarmingly fast rate could mean you might not wake up.
Your mom holds your hand the entire night before the surgery, squeezing it so tight, you lose all feeling in it.
Even though they have school, Donghyuck and Mark come to see you before you’re wheeled in. You wish everyone would stop looking at you like you’re about to die. Well, you are about to die but you don’t appreciate the looks.
“Stay with us,” Dr. Park tells you before sticking a needle in your skin.
You blink a few times before you can’t open your eyes anymore and, for the second time that week, everything goes dark.
—
This time when you wake up, the first thing you find out is that the surgery went well, but you’re still very sick. No one needs to tell you for you to know that. You can feel how sick you are when you try to move or speak or even think.
Donghyuck and Mark still visit but they visit a lot less because of school. You’re actually glad your friends can’t visit you often. You don’t want them to see you like this.
Somehow, things start to get even worse after that. Everything hurts. You can barely think, your mind is constantly screaming, your ears are constantly ringing. It hurts to open your eyes, it hurts to breathe. It hurts to be alive.
You lose the ability to eat without the help of a tube, and Mark starts visiting you every day. You know Mark has school but still doesn’t question why he drops by every day. You never have the energy to entertain Mark, so you just stare at the ceiling and listen to Mark quietly play familiar tunes or softly tell you how his day was.
You want to be able to give Mark your full attention, you want to be able to reply to Mark’s questions or laugh at his bad jokes, you want to be able to ask Mark why he still doesn’t go home until late at night. You want to be able to be close to Mark without constantly having your thoughts drift off to how tired you feel and how pathetic you are and how much everything hurts.
You’re tired. You’re tired and you just want this to end.
You look at Mark as he plays with the strings of his guitar on the chair next to your bed. You think about the ferris wheel and how happy Mark made you the day he took you there.
“I wanted to kiss you,” you speak for the first time in days.
Mark immediately stops what he was doing and stares at you, eyes impossibly wide.
“What?” He whispers.
“At the ferris wheel,” you clarify. Your voice is rough and scratchy. It doesn’t sound like your voice at all.
“You wanted to kiss me?” Mark looks stunned.
“Yes. Even though you had corn on your mouth.”
“Why?”
Mark doesn’t see you rolling your eyes. “Because I like you, silly.”
There’s a moment of silence and you’re too tired to even feel embarrassed about your impromptu confession.
But then Mark kisses you.
“What was that for?” You squeak, your voice the loudest it’s been in the past month.
Mark smiles, but it’s not one of his normal smiles. It’s not happy and sweet and there’s no dimple in sight. “I thought you said you wanted to kiss me.”
You sigh, “Mark, you didn’t have to do that just because you feel sorry for me. I know I may look like it but I'm not some charity case.”
“No!” Mark says loudly enough to make your ears start ringing. “I didn’t kiss you because you’re sick, I kissed you because I like you too.”
You're not sure if you believe him but even so, you ask Mark, “Then can you kiss me again?”
And Mark does, and it’s the best feeling in the world.
And for a moment, you don’t feel like you’re dying. You don't feel like you’re sitting on a hospital bed, losing your brain to cancer.
You feel like a normal person kissing the boy you like until neither of you can breathe.
Mark’s lips are soft and warm and sweet. They feel perfect pressed against your cold, dry ones. You think it must not be very pleasant, kissing your weak, dying lips but Mark doesn’t seem to mind, kissing your breath away at any given opportunity. It probably isn’t good for your health, being breathless so often.
But death by kisses sounds like a nice way to go.
—
Your condition is not getting better. Even though your love life is suddenly thriving, your body cannot seem to do the same.
You have conflicting thoughts. You want to feel better and fight for your mother, your friends, your boyfriend, and yourself. But it’s so hard. You just want it to end. You want to give up.
You start sobbing one day. It’s never going to end. You’re never going to feel better. There’s no point in even trying anymore.
Mark holds you and comforts you, or at least tries to, but you’re already hysterical. You hear Taeyong run into the room after you scream, “Just make it stop! Please!”
Mark is holding your hand, and playing with your fingers. He occasionally brings them up to his lips and presses tiny kisses on them.
He’s so handsome and kind and caring. He’s perfect. And he deserves so much better than this.
“Mark,” you whisper so softly you’re not even sure Mark can hear you.
But he does and looks up at you with a soft smile. “Hey, how long have you been up?”
“A while,” you try to smile back. “I’m sorry Mark.”
Mark frowns and you want to scream at him to bring the smile back. “Hey,” he brings your hand back up to his lips. “Please stop apologizing. None of this is your fault.”
“I’m sorry,” you say again, smiling slightly when Mark narrows his eyes at you. “It’s just that you deserve someone who can do things with you and for you, someone who doesn’t constantly worry you, someone you can grow old with and have little mini Marks with. Not someone who… could drop dead any second.”
“Stop that!” Mark says sharply, surprising you by how angry he looks. His face softens and he sighs. “You are that person, okay? You are not going to,” he sucks in a breath, “die anytime soon, do you hear me? You are not allowed to come into my life and make me fall in love with you and just leave.”
“Mark,” you start but Mark hushes you. He squeezes your hand and looks straight into your eyes.
“You are going to get through this. We are going to get through this. Just, please don’t give up.”
You don’t tell him you already have.
—
July is coming to an end and you’ve never felt worse. You can’t do anything but try not to scream in pain every waking moment of every day.
You’re lying down with your eyes clenched shut and your mother rubbing your arm. You vaguely register Dr. Park telling her they can do another surgery. She’s saying the same things she said before the last one. “It’s extremely risky but this time, I believe we’ll be able to get rid of it once and for all.”
“Once and for all?” You say through gritted teeth. Your mother yelps, probably because she thought you’d been asleep.
Dr. Park also looks surprised to see that you’re awake. “Uh, yes, but I must tell you, you, this procedure is more high-risk than the other ones we’ve done.” She looks back at your mom, “There’s a higher chance you might not wake up.”
“But if I do,” you look at both your doctor and your mom with pleading eyes. “It will be gone, right?”
“Most likely, but—”
“I know it might come back later but it also might be completely gone, right?”
“Yes,” Dr. Park looks at you with concern.
“Please, mom,” you start begging. “Please, this might just be the end of all this. Please.”
Your mother is reluctant but you keep pleading. You’re determined to make it through this.
Your surgery is scheduled for August 1, which means you’ll probably miss Mark’s birthday. This leaves you in a grumpy mood the entire day.
Before you’re wheeled into the operating room, your mom gives you a tight hug, getting your chest wet with her tears. Donghyuck also hugs you and makes you promise not to die.
You turn to Mark when Donghyuck finally lets go.
“Mark,” you start but Mark stops you.
“I don’t want to hear it,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re going to say, probably ‘I love you’ or something like that, but you’re saying it like it’s goodbye and I don’t want to hear it.”
You smile weakly.
“You can tell me when you come out,” Mark crosses his arms.
“I’ll try to be out in time for your birthday.”
You know the clock is ticking and it’s almost time for you to go in. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you want to do something, just in case things don’t go well.
“Kiss me?” You ask Mark.
Mark smiles, his tiny dimple still so blinding to you, and then he kisses you. It’s still the best feeling in the world.
You’re smiling when Mark pulls away, whispering, “I’ll be waiting.”
You think about the kiss when a deep voice says, “We’re putting you under now. Stay with us, okay?”
Then everything goes dark.
But this time, everything stays dark.
#nct imagines#nct angst#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 angst#mark lee imagines#mark lee angst#mark lee fanfic#nct fanfic#nct 127 fanfic#mark lee
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Reasons why Best Wishes is GREAT.
The main trio
Just the greatness of the main trio deserves its own post tbh
SATOSHI, IRIS, AND DENT…. KINGS AND QUEEN OF CHILL
BUT ALSO KINGS AND QUEEN OF DORKINESS
The most beautiful team dynamics. But aha what makes it work is that the teamwork permeates the action. Their closeness rarely gets spelt out – and it pretty much never gets spelt out in touching terms. Most of the times, we only know they like each other because (a) well they stuck together for a whole region i guess (b) the jokes (e.g. dent and his mentions of marriage here and there) (c) the natural synchronicity they grew to have (synchronized excitement and glee, synchronized panic etc). They dont stop to tell each other ‘im glad youre here’ and they dont have touching episodes about friendships growing deeper and speeches about learning from each other — even iris and satoshi’s episode about fighting and making up was done in a light-hearted way with jokes throughout (all the zooms out with dent’s narration), and whenever dent talks about what he learned from the two others he has to add a bit of his sommelier air (which makes things naturally light)…..
but thats the whole charm of it! The beauty of Best Wishes is that the relationships speak for themselves, they speak through the fact that the jokes are thrown and hit back like ping pong in the dialogues, and they speak through the fact that despite all the natural clashes in their personalities, they wanted to and managed to stay together. which kind of leads to the next point:
They are three independent and self-reliant souls - meaning, the only reason they stay together is because they each looked at the other two and thought : ‘hey. im having a good time right now. i want to continue some more’. I think BW is a bit peculiar in the sense that this is the only time since OS that Satoshi travels with two companions that are experienced (e.g. Haruka, Hikari, and Serena started out as their respective series did) Iris is actually more experienced than Satoshi, considering how young she was when she started battling with Doryuzu. Dent is also a Gym Leader. From this perspective, Satoshi doesn’t have to mentor anyone in the BWOT3; at the same time, he’s seen his own fair share (and defo has the most experience in terms of travels) so he’s not getting mentored by anyone either (in OS, he was the newbie). This directly affects their dynamics as a team. Basically, No one puts anyone on a pedestal in this trio.
Sure, dent was a bit fascinated by satoshi in the beginning, but he’s definitely not getting mentored hahaha oh boy and there is no idolatry there. In fact, each of the 3 is painfully aware of the others’ quirks and shortcomings from the get-go. and moreover, they ALL HAVE AN EGO THAT HAS THINGS TO SAY.
It’s painfully clear from the very beginning that they each have very strongly anchored personalities and that these personalities are not a natural match. Dent and Iris are like a big bang of their own concerning this, with all their Truth vs Ideal symbolism and contrast galore…but that applies to all 3. All 3 have a strong sense of self, and this leads to a refreshing trio because in the end, none depends on the other 2 to define themselves. They are more than willing to learn from each other, but they do so by observing things and internalizing them, while having fun on the outside. At the end of the day, Iris and Dent weren’t truly following Satoshi or enabling him. They were independent spirits on their own journey, and that became super clear in the way they separated at the end – relaxed, without drama, and without tears. In that sense, the trio never seemed to revolve around Satoshi, but was instead 3 free spirits sharing the same path for a while – which actually makes for a real trio, rather than two companions for Satoshi, with Satoshi as the centre piece.
The Mon teams
EACH POKEMON HAS A PERSONALITY THAT HOLDS ITS OWN
My exposure to pokeani is limited tbh, but Best Wishes seems to have paid less attention to creating a storyline between mon and trainer (e.g Gekkouga in XY, Lizardon in OS, Hikozaru in DP)? There was a bit of stuff with Pokabu, a bit with Iris’ Doryuzu + Kairyu, but overall, not much is explored. In fact, Satoshi doesn’t really have a regional ace in BW (arguably Waruvile? although there’s not much storyline). NEVERTHELESS, there is a charm to this absence of special mon in the storyline.
Firstly, all the mons got a chance to let their personality shine. And they did! They each had a personality, just like human characters. Secondly, in Best Wishes, the angst level in general is reduced to a minimal level….and so, this got heavily reflected in the dynamics between all the mons.
The mons in BW all have very well-defined dynamics, but these are all on the light-hearted side: Emonga and Tsutarja have contrasting personalities, Mijumaru and Pokabu clash too for different reasons, Zuruggu my God Zuruggu is a wonder of his own…. Just like the main trio, the trio’s mons are a recipe for smiles/laughter, rather than being emotionally touching in the traditional sense. This whole thing makes the mon teams in Best Wishes especially charming, and fit perfectly into the general mood of the series! which leads to the next point.
The MOOD
Best Wishes is incredibly chill.
It’s dorky overall — not just in the sense of having dorky characters; the show as a whole is written and built in a dorky way so that it can at anytime walk into crackland and no one can ask any questions about it.
AND IT DOES walk into crackland. The fillers in BW are either full-on crack, or actually have a plot with an intrigue/mystery (still with, often, a touch of crack). One of the episodes was basically Inception in Pokeani. Even when the plot itself is not crack, the show makes it a point to keep humor high on the list of priorities…and boy it is high
Dent, on its own, invites crack. But there is something in the way the series is crafted that allows all the characters to hit you hard with the jokes and the punch lines. The jokes in BW don’t go stale, because they take unexpected turns at unexpected moments, and are delivered in refreshing ways. Characters like Dent (with his 300 hobbies and out-of-this-world speech pattern) are not stuck with the same kind of lines / jokes / reactions all the time. Even Iris’ “You’re such a child” line changes completely depending on her tone. She’s also very dynamic so she can easily alternate between making you laugh and making you cry.
Also, her facial expressions. Everyone’s facial expressions
Sometimes, there are running gags, like Bel crashing into Satoshi, or Kenyan’s name, but most of the time, there are more dynamic characters like Dent, Iris, Cabernet, or even one-time characters like Gothimu and her trainer, to keep things moving. The jokes are sometimes inappropriate, sometimes unexpected, sometimes both – so overall, BW rly let go of all inhibitions when it came down to humor (and made one question whether it was still a kid’s show sometimes), and that was one of the most refreshing parts of it.
The so-called “downside” to this is of course, since the whole series looks like a sitcom of sorts, the battles/league really arent the main point. But that’s it. They’re not the main point. The main point is to have a good time.
The script writing
This is rather related to the technical side of it, but Best Wishes is great because it’s written in a way that flows smoothly.
The reason why the main trio’s dynamic speaks for itself, or why the jokes actually work for more than just kids, is that the dialogues flow naturally and are interesting. They worked well with characterization and have a great rhythm! My experience with Pokeani is that it sometimes serves lines that are supposed to send a great message, or are meant to act as the punch line, but they are not delivered in a way that fits the rhythm of the conversation/scene. As a result, a scene ends up seeming like it’s plain, cheesy, or a little boring, even. BW nailed the dialogues throughout. It’s part of why the series could manage such a huge cast of characters without getting lost. The script was just well written.
The other great thing related about the writing + the humor is just…the storyboard and the directing, i mean…
There are just…comedic choices that were made and were golden in this series
BW!Satoshi
This deserves its own point
He’s suuuuuuuuuper chill
Satoshi in Best Wishes is just the ultimately level of laid-back, forward-looking and sweet, because he combines the reasonableness and level-headedness of a trainer who’s already seen 4 regions before, with the liveliness and goofiness of the child that he is. He’s basically more laid-back/less competitive about battles than in DP, more lively and dynamic than XY, and more mature about misshaps and losses than in OS.
He was comfortable, relaxed, and having fun. And that made him adorable and endearing.
Basically
Best Wishes is amazing. If you need to destress and have a good time, watch it
#best wishes!#pokeani#ash ketchum#cilan#iris#bwot3#pokemon#pokemon best wishes#pokemon bw#word vomit#long post#the most frequent criticims of BW that ive seen is that the battles sucked and it didnt make ppl emotionally invested#but the flip side to this is look the children are having a good time so why burden them#and when you accept that many things in bw are tacit rather than explicitly set out then you see that the characters dont lack depth at all
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Top ASOIAF Romances
These are my top asoiaf romances, meaning the ones I was rooting for and/or found fascinating. Sometimes there’s an overlap of “I find it interesting” and “I was rooting for it”, but not in each case. This is a mix of show and book canon because it turns out that most of the romantic relationships in asoiaf are pretty crappy. If we look beyond the actual novels though, there are quite a few gems.
#1 Renly x Loras
The best OTP in the story, in my opinion. For one, we get lines like, “when the sun has set, no candle can replace it”. That is incredibly touching. It’s a King and his Knight. How can someone not love that? On the show, they depicted the relationship quite well. At first, that is. It was great in Season 2. Let’s leave it at that. I’ve talked about this before, but these boys met when they were quite young. Which means they were friends first and that’s beautiful. The tragedy is so heartbreaking, it’s at The Song of Achilles levels. The two m/m romances are similarly tender and affectionate. It’s an Achilles x Patroclus, Alexander x Hepheastion, romance. The lovers who went to war and only one returned, only for the other to die soon after. (Loras is alive in the books (maybe) but the way things have been on the show, I don’t see good things coming for any of the Tyrells : (
#2 Ned x Catelyn
What’s interesting about this Stark-Tully match is that it was an arranged marriage that turned into genuine love. People tend to complain about romances that are not dramatic enough, and these two could be in that category. If it weren’t for a couple of brilliant pieces of realistic drama in their relationship. Typically it’s contrived and silly whenever people who love each act like morons for the sake of relationship drama, but not in this case. The main reasons for Cat and Ned’s issues are that a) she was supposed to marry Brandon, Ned’s older brother. There’s a chance that Ned thinks Cat had feelings for Brandon, and I think she found him attractive in the way teen girls sometimes find “bad boys” attractive. At the same time, Cat was too smart not to be concerned about Brandon’s “wolfblood” nature. And b) Jon Snow. Their second relationship complication is Ned’s bastard. Specifically, that he refused to send Jon away to be fostered somewhere and chose to raise him along with his trueborn children instead. Cat didn’t so much care that Ned cheated on her (her patriarchy brain said “men have needs” and they were apart for a long time and hadn’t known each other well anyway) but that she had to see the consequence of his infidelity walking around Winterfell. Many people hate Cat for not loving Jon, but this is a world where the legitimacy of children is something people start wars over. She felt Jon’s very existence, and especially that he lived at Winterfell, put her own children at risk. Remember, we know Jon loves Cat’s kids, but when he was little, Cat had no way of knowing what type of person he would grow up to be. She feared he would murder her kids to become Lord Stark, a la Ramsay. Of course, the Ramsay situation hadn’t happened yet, but the Blackfyres had. Cat knew about those wars over succession that happened because of the mere existence of an alternate heir. Combine her history knowledge with the Westerosi prejudice against bastards and her choices make sense. So, even though Cat and Ned are a loving couple whose values and temperament work well together, they had their own share of relationship drama (the stuff people love when it comes to reading romance, apparently).
#3 Oberyn x Ellaria
The epic love between some of our most significant show!Dornish characters. I’d argue that Arianne and Quentyn end up being the more important players in the books. On the show, they went overboard with making sure we understood that Ellaria and Oberyn weren’t straight. Letting us know would have been fine, except they used the brothel to do it. Anyway, GRRM had no brothels for them. Duh. A prince of the realm will not be staying at a brothel when he comes to the capital for the wedding of a king.
Come on, D&D! Ugh. Still, at least Oberyn and Ellaria were presented as the good guys who go up against the Lannisters (while being awesome and having some really good lines) and that was fun. Though the brothel stuff was in poor taste. At least they were both LGBT characters we were meant to root for, originally. They were also POC, so that was nice. (This was in season 4 when Dornish people were caricatured but at least they were still presented as the good, contrasted to the Lannisters’ bad)
Basically, Oberyn and Ellaria get points for being LGBT and non-white characters and they are fun and sexy as well. In the books, the relationship is very sweet. They have quite a few kids together, and, though they’re not monogamous, they are happy together and committed to each other. They clearly love each other after many years, so that is some sorely lacking warmth in the story. Also, they are good parents. While they made Ellaria on the show kind of evil, in the books, she is 100% against revenge. Book!Ellaria doesn’t want anyone else in her family to get hurt.
#4 Egg x Betha
So, we don’t know how these two met, but it’s probably going to happen in one of the upcoming Dunk & Egg stories. The mystery surrounding the D&E characters is rather fun and it extends to the Egg and Betha romance. We know Egg married for love and we know Betha Blackwood was a spirited woman. Ergo, they were in love. That’s very rare for a royal couple. Can’t wait to meet her! She will be awesome. I’m guessing her personality will be like a Stark’s.
#5 Myrcella x Trystane
This is show!canon only, kind of. Myrcella is supposed to marry Trystane in the future, but they are little kids in the books. Still, it is very cute they have a bond. We see that in the Dornish chapters in AFFC. On the show, they are teens, who fell in love despite every obstacle. There are the cultural differences, for one thing. It could have been an issue because the rest of Westeros is racist when it comes to their perception of Dorne. Especially Cersei. BUT Myrcella and Trystane fall in love and it is very sweet. As Doran says, they don’t know how risky it is to have a Lannister and a Martell together. It’s all very Romeo and Juliet, complete with a painful ending. Yes, the Dornish Plot was butchered on the show, but these two kids and Doran were well done. Beautiful and tragic.
#6 Cersei x Jaime
Let’s get it out of the way first: this is a toxic relationship. Everything about it is unhealthy. The fact that they are twins, the fact that she only loves him as a reflection of herself, the fact that they had to kill a king and cause a war for it. But unlike with most toxic romances, the author here actually knows that it is a complete mess. That’s what’s so great about the Lannisters. They are all so dysfunctional we cannot look away.
#7 Jaime x Brienne *
This relationship is not canon by the strictest of definitions. There is no concrete line to confirm that they feel more for each other than friendship. Well, there are plenty of lines that tells us they have feelings for each other, but no one ever quite calls it love. And yet, it is underneath all of their interactions, which is very much the author’s go-to move. He doesn’t like to tell us someone truly loves a person in the story. What he does is present us with evidence pro and con “true love” and we have to weigh the evidence and decide. Btw, I think he would object to the concept of “true love”. I haven’t read/seen him talk about this, but I bet he believes how someone loves depends on personalty and circumstances. I think he would say that it’s possible to love truly but that doesn’t mean the emotion won’t ever go away. That things won’t change. This is especially true for our Lannister and our lady of Tarth. It’s such a slow-burn, and because it’s GRRM, we can smell the tragic ending the moment we realize they have feelings for each other.
#8 Dunk x Rohanne
The ultimate lowborn noble-hearted knight and highborn lady couple. Their bickering and flirting was very sexy in the novella. It’s a twist on Robin and Maid Marion, a story which is a classic for a reason. It’s a no HEA rich-mean-girl-and-boy-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks-with-a-heart-of-gold, which is just the GRRM type of realism we all love to hate. It’s a truthful look at such a love. It was never going to work between our Red Widow and our dearest hedgeknight. Lesson learned; just because it is a novella and not an epic poem, that doesn’t make heartbreak, or love, any less real.
#9 Aegon x Rhaenys x Visenya
The best of all love triangles, tbh. While most love triangles are poorly constructed, people love to read about that trope. Refreshingly, it’s not one girl and two guys this time. It’s Aegon and his two sisters/wives. What’s fascinating is that his relationship was very different with each of them. Also, there must have been a lot of jealousy because whoever had the first son was the mother of the future king, and, as Margaery told us, sons learn from their mothers. The fact that the woman Aegon loved more died so young, resulting in Aegon and Visenya having to put up with each other without her, is amazing angst.
#10 Bloodraven x Shiera Seastar
This is such a power couple. The bastards who were unabashedly themselves. It’s so fun that she kept lovers and refused to marry him just because she wanted to annoy him. There is something sexy about a couple made up of powerful people who are both manipulative.
#11 Naerys x Aemon the Dragonknight *
Naerys x Aemon is not quite canon, but many people in-universe believe that the pious queen cheated on her cruel king-brother-husband with the noble knight who was the royal couple’s brother. Because her husband was so terrible to both of them, I hope they had an epic romance and found solace in each other. This couple is sexy because of the forbidden romance trope, and because being pious and an adulterer is deliciously angsty. It’s Guinevere and Lancelot with incest, which sounds like it would make HBO salivate. On a more serious note, it is just like GRRM to take a trope like “the forbidden lovers” and push it to the extremes of taste. And it works. Every time. (Not every time the show is “shocking” but whenever GRRM wants to re-sensitize the audience to a topic.
* I’m certain everyone’s wondering why the story of Rhaegar and Elia and Lyanna is missing here. Well, it’s not on the list because I’m not certain any of the three was in love with any of the other two. We know Rhaegar was not in love with Elia. He was fond of her, cared about her and loved her as a friend and confidante. It’s speculation, but I really believe Elia wasn’t in love with him either. She was fond of him as he was fond of her. As for Lyanna, she’s a wildcard in the story. Did she run away with Rhaegar or did he kidnap her? I think the show is going the true love route, but I think GRRM will make the situation more complicated than that. I really loathe the annulment and I would bet money that’s all D&D and GRRM never wrote such a stupid thing. Polygamy makes way more sense, people! He’s a Targaryen, after all. The only way I can see myself slightly forgiving D&D for the annulment is if they say the kids are still legitimate. As for Dany and Drogo and Jon and Ygritte, I hate Dany’s marriage to Drogo and don’t care for Jon’s relationship with Ygritte. Drogo was Dany’s rapist. To ship a child with the man who rapes her every night… it would be like shipping Laurent with the Regent in Captive Prince. Abhorrent. Disgusting. Jon x Ygritte is not nearly as bad, but there’s still a consent issue. He starts sleeping with her to prove he gave up being a crow. While I loathe Khal Drogo and cheered when Dany finally killed him, I kinda liked Ygirtte. At certain points, I nearly shipped Jon x Ygritte.
As for Jonerys, I’ll write a piece about them when the season is over. It’s one of my main OTPs, but I want to celebrate them being officially canon by writing about them then.
#asoiaf meta#asoiaf romances#renly x loras#ned x catelyn#oberyn x ellaria#egg x betha#myrcella x trystane#cersei x jamie#jamie x brienne#dunk x rohanne#aegon x rhaenys x visenya#bloodraven x shiera#naerys x aemon#romance#anti khal drogo#anti jon x ygritte
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Must Reads Part 10
Happy Friday! This week we have wooden dolls, exorcism, glass hearts and girls made of snow, and more!
--Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust (9/5/17)
“At sixteen, Mina’s mother is dead, her magician father is vicious, and her silent heart has never beat with love for anyone - has never beat at all, in fact, but she’d always thought that fact normal. She never guessed that her father cut out her heart and replaced it with one of glass. When she moves to Whitespring Castle and sees its king for the first time, Mina forms a plan: win the king’s heart with her beauty, become queen, and finally know love. The only catch is that she’ll have to become a stepmother. Fifteen-year-old Lynet looks just like her late mother, and one day she discovers why: a magician created her out of snow in the dead queen’s image, at her father’s order. But despite being the dead queen made flesh, Lynet would rather be like her fierce and regal stepmother, Mina. She gets her wish when her father makes Lynet queen of the southern territories, displacing Mina. Now Mina is starting to look at Lynet with something like hatred, and Lynet must decide what to do - and who to be - to win back the only mother she’s ever known...or else defeat her once and for all. Entwining the stories of both Lynet and Mina in the past and present, Girls Made of Snow and Glass traces the relationship of two young women doomed to be rivals from the start. Only one can win all, while the other must lose everything - unless both can find a way to reshape themselves and their story.”
I have been putting this one off for a while. I wanted to find the perfect moment to mention it but its release date will be here before we know so why delay any longer. This is probably my most anticipated release for this year, aside from the reasons why October and November are going to kick ass. I first came across the title in April and I still periodically look it up just to read the description. I’ve been checking the arcs at my work every day hoping that it would be there.
I love everything about this. A girl with a glass heart and one made entirely out of snow. Both dangerous and also so fragile. I can’t help but feel like they will destroy themselves in their rivalry. Though I am really hoping for a more happy end. Through their love for each other to make themselves fully human. I want them to love each other. I imagine this will be hard for Mina because even though she gains the kings love that doesn’t mean her heart still isn’t made of glass. I want them to support each other by the end. I want Mina to not be a villain by the end. I’m just so excited for this book.
--The Apprentice Witch by James Nicol
“Arianwyn has flunked her witch’s assessment: She’s doomed. Declared an apprentice and sent to the town of Lull is disgrace, she may never become a real witch - much to the glee of her arch-rival, Gimma. But remote Lull is not as boring as it seems. Strange things are sighted in the woods, a dangerous infestation of hex creeps throughout the town, and a mysterious magical visitor arrives with his eye on her. With every spirit banished, creature helped, and spell cast, Arianwyn starts to get the hang of being witch - even if she’s only an apprentice. But the worst still lies ahead. For a sinister darkness has begun to haunt her spells, and there may be more at stake than just her pride...for Arianwyn and the entire world.”
I came across this title a day after I saw Kiki’s Delivery Service in theaters back in July. So I felt an immediate connection between them. Except for this book having a save the world kind of ending. There is a preview up on Goodreads. It starts with Arianwyn going in for her assessment exam. In this world witches are a part of life. Towns and villages can request for one to take up residence there, mainly to defend against spirits. They even reference a war that might be about to happen or is already underway that witches are fighting in. The preview ends with Arianwyn about to fail her assessment. Which is a shame because I want to know about the town Lull and who she might be apprenticed to. But I think my main attraction to it currently remains at how much it makes me think of Kiki’s Delivery Service.
--The Bone Snatcher by Charlotte Sadler
“Sophie Seacove is a storyteller. She tells stories of what the world would be like if madness hadn’t take over. If her parents hadn’t sold her off as a servant to pay for their stupid vacation. If she wasn’t now trapped in a decaying mansion filled with creepy people and surrounded by ravenous sea monsters. The mansion has plenty of stories, too: About fantastical machines, and the tragic inventor who created them. About his highly suspicious death. And about the Monster Box, a mysterious object hidden in the house that just might hold the key to escaping this horrible place - and to reuniting Sophie with her family. But not everyone wants Sophie to have the Monster Box, and as she gets closer to finding it, she finds herself unspooling years-old secrets - and dodging dangerous attacks. Sophie needs to use her brains, her brawn, and her unbreakable nature if she wants to make it off this wretched island...and live to tell this story.”
I actually refound this title while going through my long list of ‘want to read’ on Goodreads. Read through the preview and I’m in love. Sophie was sold by her parents but not to go on a vacation. They sold her because they were going to start a new life on the New Continent across the sea. Why they sold her aside from that, I don’t know. It could be because Sophie enjoys the view of the sea while everyone else is afraid of it because of all the strange and terrifying creatures that live in it. In one scene in the preview, the sea itself almost seems conscious. As it drives to take Sophie with it while she crosses an ever smaller tidal path to reach the mansion. A tentacle tries to drag her down, hooks on the seabed try to keep her in place, and the waves keep trying to drown her. Even undead sailors are rumored to live in the sea, waiting to take children who wandered after dark. It stops before Sophie reaches the mansion. I’m curious to see what kind of ‘weird’ people that she will be living with. And as much as I want Sophie to escape to New Continent to get revenge on her parents, I hope she realizes that she is already where she belongs. Or at least that’s the kind of message I’m expecting to read from this.
--My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix
“A heartwarming story of friendship and demonic possession. The year is 1988. High school sophomores Abby and Gretchen have been best friends since fourth grade. But after an evening of skinny-dipping goes disastrously wrong, Gretchen begins to act...different. She’s moody. She’s irritable. And bizarre incidents keep happening whenever she’s nearby. Abby’s investigation leads her to some startling discoveries - and by the time their story reaches its terrifying conclusion, the fate of Abby and Gretchen will be determined by a single question: Is their friendship powerful enough to beat the devil?...Blends teen angst, adolescent drama, unspeakable horrors, and a mix of ‘80′s pop songs into a pulse-pounding supernatural thriller.”
Was drawn to this title because of the cover of the paperback. It looks like a 1980′s horror movie poster. I don’t watch a lot of horror movies because I am a chicken; unless it’s an old horror movie that’s great because it’s just that terrible, but I do read a lot of scary-ish books. Though sometimes not once it gets dark outside. Depends on the book. Anyway. My Best Friend’s Exorcism is supposed to be satirical to the genre and maybe even more specifically to the film The Exorcism. From what I’ve seen and heard of it so far, this is more of a tale of friendship but it still has a lot of gore and horror to it.
--Vassa in the Night by Sarah Porter
“In the enchanted kingdom of Brooklyn, the fashionable people put on cute shoes, go to parties in warehouses, drink on rooftops at sunset, and tell themselves they’ve arrived. A whole lot of Brooklyn is like that now - but not Vassa’s working-class neighborhood. In Vassa’s neighborhood, where she lives with her stepmother and bickering stepsisters, one might stumble onto magic, but stumbling away again could become an issue. Babs Yagg, the owner of the local convenience store, has a policy of beheading shoplifters - and sometimes innocent shoppers as well. So when Vassa’s stepsister sends her out for light bulbs in the middle of the night, she knows it could easily become a suicide mission. But Vassa has a bit of luck hidden in her pocket, a gift from her dead mother. Erg is a touch-talking wooden doll with sticky fingers, a bottomless stomach, and a ferocious cunning. With Erg’s help, Vassa just might be able to break the witch’s curse and free her Brooklyn neighborhood. But Bab’s won’t be playing fair...”
This is based off the Russian fairytale Vasilisa the Beautiful. I’m really interested in Erg. I just enjoy the idea of a little wooden doll, small enough to fit in your pocket, yet strong enough to help resolve your problems. I know Erg is supposed to help Vassa and keep her safe. Yet I hope Vassa won’t rely on Erg too much. I want to see Vassa solve some of the challenges herself. It sounds really good and strange.
#girls made of snow and glass#melissa bashardoust#the apprentice witch#james nicol#the bone snatcher#charlotte sadler#my best friends exorcism#grady hendrix#vassa in the night#sarah porter#must read#books#book recommendations#kiki's delivery service#studio ghibli#the exorcism#ya books#children's book
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Dear Alternate Songs writer,
letter under the cut
Some things I’m into:
angst and/or conflict (a little or a lot) with a happy, resolved, or ambiguously hopeful/open ending
hurt/comfort
grief/mourning, and the moving on from it, ~grieving together~
five times/things format (with any number)
relationship tropes (fake relationship, undercover as a couple, forced to share a bed, trapped together, forced to work together, marriage of convenience, etc; these are all my catnip)
epistolary? maybe? if you want to
I’m not really into and don’t want to see:
canon or previous love interests made out to be villains (except Sansa’s obviously)
lots of focus on smut or any particular kink scenario/act unless I request it (some smut is fine)
pure 100% curtainfic fluff
unremitting tragedy with 0 hope at the end
the first exchange of “I love yous” as romantic climax (I really enjoy reading about love being expressed in other ways)
soulmates or any other whiff of romantic destiny/fate
background ships I did not request
death of any character I’ve requested
Jon as a dirty talker. plz. this is not at all for me.
Asha Greyjoy/Jon Snow (ASOIAF)
Medium: Fanfiction
General: Asha seems like Jon’s type, a bit similar to Ygritte, and I think she would have fun with him. Asha is pretty in tune with her desires, while Jon is pretty inhibited–that might be a nice dynamic to play with. For this ship I would be fine with something more smut-/kink-focused if you’re into that (I’m thinking femdom--maybe something from my Smut Swap letter?).
Amusement Park
Something older/run down/backwater/boondocks preferred to Disneyworld or Six Flags. IDK, there’s just something fun about this environment. Asha as a woman who works there, Jon’s family visiting for the summer, or maybe he’s the new employee she trains (or “trains”)? Or I really liked The Way, Way Back (except for the outstandingly sexist bits) so something similar in feel would be cool.
Post-Apocalypse
I can only imagine how awesome Asha would be in a crisis. Maybe a post-apocalyptic road trip? Or I love reading about how people survive, build communities, make to on a day-to-day basis after the apocalypse. Post-apocalyptic curtainfic, you might say.
Steampunk
Maybe Asha as captain of an airship. An outlaw maybe--airship pirate? Maybe Jon as law enforcement, or disgraced former law enforcement looking for a purpose. Or maybe Jon is on some kind of mission (whatever it is) and needs her services (or stows away). Or any other scenario you can think of!
Summer Camp
I could definitely see counselor Asha/camper Jon, or both of them as counselors.
Wild West
Asha as outlaw, Jon as law enforcement? (Or disgraced former law enforcement, looking for a purpose?)
Always a Different Gender
Way into girlJon (Joanna? Jonquil? Jo for short?). Just way, way into it. I’d prefer Asha not be flipped. I’m interested in what Jo(n) might have done rather than go to the Wall (married off, perhaps, or a late fostering? - my assumption is that Cat would still push Jo(n) out). Perhaps somehow Jo(n) ends up as Asha’s salt wife?
Lyanna Stark Lived
I imagine she would have to go into hiding. Perhaps she was secretly spirited away to hang out with the Mormonts? Or maybe Essos? Whatever you can imagine here would be fine. I’d just love for Jon to have some kind of relationship with his mother. How he meets Asha is up to you!
Jon Snow/Sansa Stark (GOT)
Medium: Fanfiction
General: Season 6 made me really interested in this ship. I like the way they both have their moments of cynicism and disillusionment but also inspire each other toward action and hope. For non-canon settings, I have a strong preference for both characters to be adults and have had previous relationship experience (their canon love interests being mentioned as part of their pasts is A-OK). I’m into trust issues if you like that, or if they’re 100% ride-or-die for each other that’s fine too. Wherever you want to put this on the incest spectrum is fine with me.
Cyberpunk
Space Opera
Steampunk
One of the things I'd really like to see (in general) is a "remix" or adaptation of the canon, or just of particular canon events (whatever’s interesting to you), in different settings like these. Obviously I'm not asking for the whole thing! Just a glimpse or two, maybe, or however much you feel inspired to write. How similar to the canon it is, or how much it diverges because of the setting, is totally up to you. Feel free to have that all be background and write something "post-canon" (or post-remixed canon, I guess) set in this world. I’d just really love to read anything in Space Westeros, Steampunk Westeros, or Cyberpunk Westeros.
Amusement Park
Something older/run down/backwater/boondocks preferred to Disneyworld or Six Flags. IDK, there’s just something fun about this environment. Jon as the guy who works there, Sansa’s family visiting for the summer? Or I really liked The Way, Way Back (except for the outstandingly sexist bits) so something similar in feel would be cool.
Graduate School
Get your nerd on if you like! I’d love to read about what you think each character would be interested in/suited for and what they get out of it. For example, Sansa as a student of literature or history would be interesting given how she interacts with songs and legends in canon.
Single Parent(s)
Meet when their kids have a conflict? Or at a school event?
Summer Camp
Prefer them as counselors if that works for you. Butting heads over how to solve a problem/conflict, maybe?
Female Preference Primogeniture
It makes sense because it’s much harder to doubt someone’s matrilineal parentage, isn’t it? Well, obviously, if this was a real tradition in Westeros going back many generations, everyone would be in all different places and the ruling families would look very different ... Feel free to completely ignore all that and just pop us into the present day with no explanation! LOL. Anyway, I’d be very interested to see how Sansa’s story would be different if she was the official heir to Winterfell - maybe Robb went south to marry future queen Myrcella instead, leaving her in the North? Or she might go south to be one of Myrcella’s ladies for a bit and find a husband? Perhaps the revelation of Jon as Lyanna’s kid threatens her position? Or take it in any other direction you would like.
Role Reversal
I’ve read a few stories where Sansa is the bastard and Jon the trueborn, and I just. can’t. get. enough. It really complicates Sansa’s relationship with her femininity as well as her relationship with Arya, so I’d love to see those things explored if you’re into it. (I can imagine Septa Mordane being all “even your baseborn sister can do it better,” which would suck so much for the both of them.) It’s harder with Jon, because so much of his identity is wrapped up in being a bastard--maybe a second son/younger twin, the “spare,” trying to prove himself? (Feel free to change up their hair/eye colors a bit to make this AU work.)
Always a Different Gender
Way into girlJon (Joanna? Jonquil? Jo for short?). Just way, way into it. You can flip Sansa too, if you want, or not; either is fine. I’d be terribly interested in hearing about how this might change (or not change) their dynamic as children and what Jo(n) might have done rather than go to the Wall (married off, perhaps, or a late fostering? - my assumption is that Cat would still push Jo(n) out).
Lyanna Stark Lived
I imagine she would have to go into hiding. Perhaps she was secretly spirited away to hang out with the Mormonts? Or maybe Essos? Whatever you can imagine here would be fine. I’d just love for Jon to have some kind of relationship with his mother. How he meets Sansa is up to you!
Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow (ASOIAF)
Medium: Fanfiction
General: My first strong feelings for this ship came after reading cleromancy’s Dog Days and Summer Snows, which really highlighted for me how they have what’s really the same problem (how much they don’t belong/how much people ignore them), but go about dealing with it in different ways (Jon caring so much and trying to prove himself but also melting into the shadows, Theon electing not to care about anything and taking up as much attention as possible). & the triangle they make with Robb (as rival friends/brothers), I like that too. Strong preference for pre-Ramsay Theon whether in canon or modern AU. A “frienemies with benefits” kind of situation would make a good dynamic, too.
Amusement Park
Something older/run down/backwater/boondocks preferred to Disneyworld or Six Flags. IDK, there’s just something fun about this environment. Jon as the guy who works there, Theon visiting for the summer (with his family or the Starks)? Or I really liked The Way, Way Back (except for the outstandingly sexist bits) so something similar in feel would be cool.
Dotcom/Startup
I can only imagine what wildly different work ethics, approaches, and visions they have, lol. Workplace drama? FORCED to work together/collaborate? :DDD
Library
Maybe Jon as the librarian, with Theon always staying late and alternately trying to annoy Jon/get his attention.
Summer Camp
Again, a really awesome way to highlight their differences. Would be happy with them as campers or counselors for this one. (I do love picturing Theon as a camp counselor, lol. He totally sneaks alcohol into camp. Best/shittiest camp counselor ever, y/y?)
Tattoo Parlor
Kinda thinking of Jon as the tattoo artist, and Theon keeps coming in for more tattoos and insists on Jon? Again, that “annoying Jon but at the same time trying to get his attention” dynamic would be aces.
Character(s) Took the Black
Thinking of Theon here, maybe taking up Rodrik’s offer? I can only imagine Jon’s contempt and the conflict that would ensue. (Theon baiting Jon about sticking to the Wall while Robb was crowned/died would be A+.)
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