#ugh typing in all caps feels weird
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THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A MONSTER HIGH/EVER AFTER HIGH CROSSOVER???
#OH MY GODS??#monster high#ever after high#i'm not gonna act like i've ever been an eah fan or anything#i think i only watched it once when nothing else was on and promptly forgot about it#and i've only been into monster high for about a week and a half#but i for real would have *loved* to see that#fairy tale descendants meeting the descendants of famous monsters?#sign me the hell up#ugh typing in all caps feels weird
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Things People Don’t Mention About Top Surgery or Mastectomies
There is reluctance to do the surgery if you live alone, even if you have a good support system. One of the most stressful things was the hospital constantly asking about who would be looking after me, picking me up, etc. I really felt the bias towards people who are married and against people who are single. I don’t think it was intentional but it was definitely there. (Please read more about this situation here) That being said you will definitely need a robust support system of some kind to get through everything in the first 4 -8 weeks or more after surgery.
All your pill bottles will have safety caps and you won't have the strength to open them on your own without a lot of struggling.
There are soooo many medications. Take them as prescribed and when they say take the level of pain meds you need to manage your pain, do it. I got opiods and ibuprofen. If the pain is bad 5-7+ on the 1-10 scale take the stronger meds. Pain can slow healing by causing stress on the body.
Drains are a pain in the ass. Every hour pushing the hoses so they don't clog. Major drag but they are very important and if they get clogged it can cause issues
Sleeping sitting up, prepare for this. Lots of pillows or recliner or something. Practice for a week or more before surgery to get used to it.
Sleep as much as you need. Don't feel like you should stay awake or whatever because you are supposed to or it is day time or whatever. Listen to your body.
Drink lots and lots of fluids. You may think you are drinking enough but you probably aren't. The fluid in the drains and the medicines and peeing all the time and sweating from the tight wrap. You need to replace all of this fluid. I think I have been up around 80+ oz the past few days.
The month before and a month after surgery eat a high protein and higher calorie diet. It will help with surgery and recovery. You need the energy and the protein to recover.
Cut out added salt, caffiene, alcohol, and nicotine before surgery and during recovery. All of these can increase fluid retention, slow healing, or be dangerous with the meds.
Your chest will feel very strange. At first you can't feel anything and then the skin feels tight everywhere and still strange. The recovery process feels real weird. Your whole torso feels kind of bizarre and new.
Ask all the questions. No question is stupid. It's trauma to your body ask all the questions. YES all of them.
The tube (intubation) from surgery irritates the throat. Coughing from this sucks so damned much because of the binder and the chest tightness and what not. Find lozenges (Both cough drops and just candy) that you like. I say candy because too many cough drops can upset the stomach and you don't need that after anesthesia and with all the meds. Also get popsicles.
Take everything out of packages you can before surgery. They are damned hard to open. Those paper cartons holding the apple sauce and snapping apart pudding cups and pulling apart pill blister packs.. ugh I should have taken them apart before the surgery.
Scissors are your friend and every package is an enemy. Seriously, get a good pair of scissors for packaging.
Also, skip 2 liters of pop, gallon of milk, etc. They will be too heavy to pick up after surgery. You can be more independent if you get smaller size things.
Timers are your friend. All the phone timers forever. Also, handwritten or some other chart type to keep track of drain cleaning and taking meds. You will be sleepy and forgetful the first few days. Use other things to help you keep track.
Take stock of how your lights go on and off. Can you reach them while pretending you are a T-Rex. If not, especially ceiling fans and that, put long strings on the pulls so that you can operate them while you can't raise your arms.
Also check your doors to make sure they don't stick. You won't be able to tug hard on doors or drawers or whatever.
Get yourself some treats. Food related or clothing or whatever. Treats will help.
Before surgery plan out and prepare at least a week of meals. Be sure to include some that are easy on the stomach like crackers, rice and chicken, etc. Just in case you have stomach upset from the anesthesia or meds. Gentle foods include starches and chicken/tofu that is low fat and low spice so that it is gentle.
Soft fuzz free and easy to get on clothing is essential. I went out and got a couple of those shorts and button down shirt pajama sets. Life savers. Also, get a size or two bigger than usual to accommodate drains and padded bandages and things.
Strange pains, you will probably have them.
Be sure to do the arm exercises as directed by your surgeon and watch your shoulders hunching. The shoulder hunching is from the chest tightness but you don't want your back to start hurting. Try to sit up as straight as you can.
Pump action soap dispensers will be too hard to use the first few days.
Weeks before surgery, start teaching yourself how to do things without your arms; like standing up, getting into and out of bed, squatting, getting up from chairs, etc. Practice doing things with your elbows next to your chest like a t-rex; getting food and drinking, brushing teeth, taking meds, etc This will be very important
I am sure there are more but I thought some of you might benefit from the things I have learned so far from going through surgery.
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Shy boy meets teasing girl
Description: A geeky university student confesses to his crush, gets turned into a girl. Shenanigans happen.
Chapter 1 originally published: 13th of May 2019
Chapter 1 "Now this is a story all about how…"
A loud noise of my alarm clock woke me up.
“Ugh…”, I grunted, knowing that five hours are not enough for a healthy sleep. Still, I begrudgingly rose from the bed and continued with my morning routine. The clock indicated it’s 7 o’clock. Just enough time to shower and catch a bus.
I met up with my friend, Eric, who happened to be riding the same bus to uni.
“Hi! How it’s going, Patrick?”, he asked.
“Yeah, well, you know. Stuff.”, I responded.
“That wasn’t very informative.”, he told me.
“Yeah, it’s just I’m sleepy and not in a mood.”
“That’s what you kept telling me over the last month.”
“I can’t help it, Factorio is just so addicting.”
“If you keep going through life like that, you’ll finish uni without scoring with a single girl.”
“Man, is it all you keep doing in your life? Taking enjoyment in hedonistic pleasures of life?”
“I don’t really want to hear that from you. Also, how are your attempts with Wendy going?”
I was shocked. “How do you…?”
“That’s obvious from your face. You spend most of your time on lectures staring at her.”, Eric responded.
“This is a secret between us.”, I responded quickly.
“Sure, sure. But, you know, the longer you keep that a secret, the bigger is the chance that she’ll slip away from you.”
“There’s no reason why she would want to be with me, you know.”
“You just need some confidence, and you’ll easily attract girls.”, Eric said. “How about this one: I’ll give you 70 bucks if you confess to Wendy today. Even if you get rejected, you’ll still have 70 bucks.”
Thought about it a bit. “Deal.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Better prepare the money.”, I said, a bit more confident than before. Wendy is a friend I’ve got to know only recently, after I enrolled into college, because of her being in the same group as me. While she wasn’t completely a stranger, trying to ask her out felt to me like a gamble. Then again, it’s not like I had ever attempted asking out girls, so who knows.
I couldn’t focus on the lecture much, instead I tried coming up with an idea how to approach her. Oh well, I could just try the straightforward thing. I take my phone and type out:
“After lecture, can we talk for a bit in private? I have something to tell you.”
“All right.”, she responded.
…and now we wait.
We met at the usual place.
“There’s something I want to tell you.”, I said, then continued:
“I’ve been looking up to you for the last few weeks. Will you go out with me?”
“On one condition. You’ll need to change for me - drink this.”, she hands me a ordinarily-looking bottle with a red liquid.
“Eh? That’s it?”, I asked, twisting off the cap and lifting the bottle in order to drink it.
“Wait, you don’t know yet what will happen if you drink it!” - she interrupted me.
I stopped, and then she continued with something I never expected to hear:
“You’ll turn into a girl.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Because I’ll definitely turn into a girl by drinking this. Ha ha.”
I chugged down the entire bottle.
“See? Nothing happened. Does this mean we’re going out now?”
“Sure, we’ll meet here again, tomorrow 5PM.”
“5PM? All right, see ya!”
I walked away.
“…That was weird.”, I thought. “Why would she make such a joke at that moment…?”
The rest of the day at uni was fairly uneventful, so I rode the bus back home, and kept playing Factorio. Around midnight I noticed that somehow I was way more tired than usual, so I laid down in the bed. Despite me feeling so tired, I had a hard time falling asleep, so I can’t remember the exact moment I did. My sense of consciousness faded…
I found myself in high school, talking with Eric, when all of a sudden my clothes change into a schoolgirl uniform! He didn’t seem to notice this, somehow. So I try to allude to this in my conversation.
“Is there something weird about the clothes I’m wearing right now?”, I asked.
“No, what’s wrong with them? No stains or anything.”
I frowned.
“I get it that a girl like you pays a lot of attention to her appearance, but you seem to be panicking too much.”
What.
I tried to walk around. No one seemed to pay any attention. Is there anyone who’ll comment on a guy crossdressing?!
“What are you doing here?”, Wendy asked. “Our next lesson is P.E.! We have to get going and change clothes.”
Wendy grabs my arm and drags me to the girls’ changing room. I walk towards the lockers. Several girls eyed me over, but with no comment from their side. I open my own locker, and I see my own stuff, but the clothes that are there are girls’ clothes.
…what the hell was that?
I woke up, feeling fairly refreshed. I looked at the alarm clock.
“FUCK! It’s 11! I overslept!”, I shouted, while trying to get up as soon as possible.
Fumbling around, I got up from the bed, but suddenly fell because somehow I tripped on my own pants.
“Ow.”
I lifted my legs and left the pants on the floor. Then, I ran to the bathroom. I felt that my body was lighter than usual. I looked at the bathroom mirror. It was an unusual sight. The person in the mirror moved in response to every my move, but it wasn’t me. Somehow most of the details didn’t quite match. I looked at them more closely, from head to toes. The hair was nearly reaching the shoulders, and the color of it matched my own. The face had a smooth skin, nearly babylike. The person wore the same pajama shirt I was wearing, but it was unfit to their physique. Two visible bumps were protruding out of that person’s chest. This raised the alarm signs in my brain. I moved my hands towards my chest. I felt a soft sensation. My fears were confirmed.
“WHY DO I HAVE BOOBS?”, I shouted.
I touched my body all over, feeling a smooth, soft skin. Desperately trying to deny what was happening, I moved my hands between my legs.
“It’s… it’s gone!”, I cried out. How does one become a girl overnight? How?
I asked myself in my thoughts.
Soon enough, I recalled my yesterday’s conversation.
“I have to meet Wendy as soon as possible!”
That means I have to leave my house. Leaving the house means I have to dress up. Dress up means I have to wash myself.
So I took off my clothes and walked under the shower. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. But I don’t have a choice.
I took a better look at myself. “There’s no way I’ll be able to hide these.”, I said.
I cupped one of the breasts with my hand. Even while standing straight up, it’s large enough to fill my entire hand.
It’s so soft… I wonder how would…
“This is not the time for my horny fantasies! I’m already late!”, I interrupted myself, and got down to washing my body, with as little excitement as possible.
After that, I browsed through the cabinet, looking for clothes that could possibly fit me. Digging through, I found a old shirt that I didn’t bother throwing away, but happened to be smaller than the size I’m currently wearing. This bad habit of mine of not throwing away old clothes actually saved my butt today. I finished dressing up and ran to catch a bus.
After a while later, I managed to get to uni without any incidents. I nervously looked around, searching for Wendy. She was nowhere to be found.
If I won’t meet her earlier, I’ll just have to hope she keeps her promise and she’ll be there as promised at 5PM, and in the meantime attempt to not stand out from the crowd.
“Oh, hi there!”, I heard Eric’s voice.
“How are you doing, Pa…”
I turn around.
“Oh, sorry, I got the wrong person.”, Eric said.
He can’t recognize me? That’s convenient, I don’t really want to face him right now, who knows what ideas he may get.
So I tried moving away from Eric, to avoid his stares.
It’s about 5PM, the same place as yesterday.
“Wow, you turned out nicely.”, I heard.
I immediately recognized Wendy’s voice.
“HOW COME I’M A GIRL?”, I shouted to her.
“You drank a potion which turned you into a girl. Why are you surprised?”, Wendy asked.
“Why do you treat it as something normal? People don’t usually change sex overnight!”, I said. “What will I do with my life? How will I attend uni? My life is over!”
“It’s not like I didn’t warn you before you drank that bottle.”, Wendy said. “And besides, it’s not like your life is over. Half of the world are women.”
“How will I explain this to everyone? It’s not like I’ll just say ‘oh, hey, Patrick is a girl now’ to my mom, dad, and my friends. Can I turn back?”
“I’ll help you with explanations. And yes, you can turn back. After all, since a potion managed to change you, the same potion can turn you back. But…”
“But…?”, I asked.
“Would you even want to?”, she asked seductively, moving her left hand’s index finger across my chest, and touching my chin with her right hand’s index finger.
“We’ll go on dates, buy some cute clothes, watch movies in your room and chill… Patricia.”
I squirmed at the thought of me shopping for women’s clothes.
“For what reason did I turn into a girl anyway?”
“I’m a lesbian. Normally I would’ve rejected you outright, but I’ve known you for a bit, so I thought this could work out.”
“It still feels too weird. I’ve been a guy my whole life. How am I expected to behave like a girl now? I’ll be a freak!”
“C’mon, you’ve got so far, other guys who had asked me out gave up earlier than you. Do you want to pussy out now?”, she said.
“Hmmm…”
“Give it a try, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”, she attempted to convince me.
“All right, I’ll give it a try for a week.”
“Yay! Now we’re girlfriend and girlfriend!”
“So what do we do now?”
“First we should get you in some clothes that won’t make you look suspicious.”
“What?”
“These are clearly boys’ clothes, and they’re too big for you now.”
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START STAR STAR STAR MY BELOVED!!! I SAW SOMEONE MENTIONING ATEEZ AND THEN YOU TALKED ABOUT THEM AND? UGH MY BABY SAN! I NEED TO FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW ASWELL CAUSE I LOVE THAT MAN TO PIECES? (also you liking hongjoong? taste)
ALSO FUNNY STORY BUT LAST YEAR MY FRIEND KINDA FORCED ME TO GO SEE ATEEZ CAUSE HER FRIEND DITCHED HER AND SHE WASN’T ALLOWED IF SHE COULDN’T GET SOMEONE TO JOIN HER! BUT BASICALLY WHAT I WANTED TO SAY WAS THAT MY BABY SAN WAS THE ONE WHO GOT ME INTO KPOP AND EVERYTHING SO UGHHHHHHHH I LOVE HIM💗💞🩷💓💗
ALSO POOKIE I NEED AN UPDATE ON THE SONGS? DID YOU LIKE THEM? WHAT DID YOU THINK? (also i’m sorry for writing in all caps i just feel like it looks so? weird and mundane to write without all caps😳)
BUT I LOVE YOU POOKIE, YOU’RE ACTUALLY THE LOML AND WE’RE KISSING RN👩❤️💋👩💞💓
(me to you)
SAN IS SOOOOOO……… HIS FUCKING ROVER CHALLENGE LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT ‼️ FREE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ ALSO YES HONGJOONG MY BELOVED AND YEOSANG/SEONGHWA MY BIAS WRECKERS 🫶🫶🫶🫶💖💓💕💞💘🩷 I LOVE ATEEZ SO MUCH PLS FEEL FREE TO INBOX ME ABT THEM WHENEVER YOU WANT JDKDKDKKD ALSO THAT’S SO COOL THAT SAN GOT YOU INTO KPOP SJWKDKSKKSKDKD I LOVE THAT FOR YOU HE REALLY JUST HAS THAT EFFECT !!!!!! SLAY
Also not you asking about the songs while I am listening to one as I type…… HELP I LOVE THE PLAYLIST SO MUCH I HAVE BEEN LISTENING TO IT EVERY DAY WHILE I WORK 🫶🫶 I LOVE IT AND YOU AND YOUR TASTE IN MUSIC POOKIE SKKEKEDKLDKDKD WE R KISSING ‼️‼️‼️‼️ I LOVE YOU I HOPE YOUR WEEK IS GOING SO WELL
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While You Still Can
For Ectober Day 2: Scream
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Warnings: Accidental self-injury, repeated injury, minor blood, muteness.
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The first time Danny got laryngitis was the day after returning from the bad future. He’d been a bit of a baby about it, too, because not being able to communicate effectively while already feeling like garbage and being depressed wasn’t great. Jazz had been very understanding about it all.
He got it again the next time he used the Ghostly Wail, and resigned himself to the inconvenient side effect. The Wail was sort of a last resort power to begin with, since it drained so much of his energy and left him vulnerable. He hoped that with time and practice it would get better.
He hoped in vain.
The day after Tucker's resignation from the student body presidential race, Danny, Sam, and Tucker splayed, exhausted and still slightly sandy, in Sam's basement. They'd settled on watching a nature documentary at some point, although none of them were really paying attention to it.
Tucker sighed heavily and readjusted himself so that his legs hung over the arm of the loveseat he’d commandeered. “So, I’m tied with Danny for most frequently possessed,” said Tucker.
“Seems like it,” said Sam, lazily twitching her foot to kick Tucker’s. “Unless mind control doesn’t count as being possessed.”
“Ugh. I hate this. Do you think we should try to practice throwing off overshadowing again? I hate that, too.”
“Dunno. Danny, do you think that would do any good?”
Danny, because he had the attention span of a caffeinated squirrel, tried to answer verbally. This was painful and did not work well.
The sound from the documentary briefly dissolved into something that wasn’t quite static. All three teens sat up, straight and wary of any ghostly intruders.
Danny’s ghost sense did not go off. Danny, who hadn’t been looking forward to how his ghost sense would feel against his abused throat, sighed in relief.
“Wait,” said Sam, “the static- Danny, was that you?”
Danny shrugged. If it was, it wasn’t on purpose.
“Maybe… Can you try to talk again?”
That would hurt. He made a face.
“I know,” said Sam. “But if it was you, don’t you want to know?”
“Could be the start of a new ghost power,” said Tucker, lying back down.
Danny rolled his eyes, but once again tried to speak. Once again, the sound of the documentary cut out, replaced by something else. Something that wasn’t words, but also wasn’t just random noise.
“Weird,” said Tucker. “So. New power, I guess. Do you think you’ll be able to do that without your voice gone?”
Danny shrugged. It wasn’t like these things came with a guidebook. Also, this didn’t seem particularly useful for anything except getting his friends’ attention when he was temporarily mute.
“I wonder if it works on recordings,” mused Tucker. “It’d be useful for making sure no one catches you transforming on film.”
Ah. That was true.
“We’d have to test it,” said Sam.
Danny dropped back onto the floor. He didn’t want to do anything today.
“Later?” suggested Sam. “Maybe once your voice is back?”
Danny gave her a thumbs up.
.
Danny’s voice came back the next day, as usual. Trying to mess with audio electronics had no effect, so they sort of forgot about it and ignored it. It wasn’t important.
They didn’t think it was important.
Danny kept using his Ghostly Wail as a trump card. His voice always took a vacation afterwards, but never for too long. Never long enough for Danny to worry. His parents were making noises about bringing Danny to the doctor, maybe a throat specialist. But they were ridiculously easy to distract.
Everything was normal. Everything was fine.
Until Technus came by with a massive upgrade, courtesy of Vlad, Danny suspected, and Danny had to use his wail twice in a row.
He managed to cap the thermos before he doubled over, coughing. Blood speckled the asphalt below him. Which was disturbing for a number of reasons, not least of which being that he was in ghost form, and shouldn’t be bleeding red at all.
He heard a gasp, and twisted in a way that probably would have broken a normal, human spine.
Sam and Tucker were looking at him with a great deal of consternation and worry.
“Dude…” said Tucker, softly.
Danny winced, and his rings flickered.
“Don’t do that now,” said Sam, scoldingly. “Shoot. We need to get you to Frostbite or something. That’s- Oh my gosh. Frick.”
Danny grimaced. They’d seen him more beaten up, but this amount of blood from the mouth probably was a more disturbing image than bruises and random cuts.
His rings flickered again.
Tucker swallowed hard. “We’ve gotta… Um. Somewhere to transform. Yeah.”
“Alley,” said Sam, pushing.
Danny let go of his transformation as soon as he was out of sight, and leaned against Tucker. He was so incredibly tired. He coughed, lightly, and more blood dribbled from his mouth.
“Oh, gross,” complained Tucker. “Are you, ah, jeeze, you’re not okay.”
No joke.
“Frostbite,” said Sam. “Danny, you up to- What am I saying, of course you’re not. Tucker, you’re going to have to drive.”
“Uh,” started Tucker.
“Since I’m going to be dealing with first aid stuff.”
“Oh. Okay, yeah, I can drive.”
.
Danny wheezed as Tucker made another wrong turn and almost plowed them into a half-melted wall. Sure, the Speeder could phase through just about anything here, but that ‘just about’ was a significant concern.
Plus, going too far that way would put a lot of extra time on their journey. Like. A lot. Some kind of fourth spacial dimension nonsense.
“Sorry!” said Tucker. “Did your parents update the controls or something?”
They had, but Danny couldn’t exactly explain how at the moment. He shrugged.
Eventually, they did arrive at the Far Frozen. The yetis took one look at Danny’s pale face and the blood dripping down his chin and rushed him away to their hospital. Frostbite arrived, and the next hour or so was a whirlwind of tests and scans, particularly of his neck and throat.
They… looked worried. Which made Danny worried.
They gave him good painkillers, though, and lying on the ice bed did wonders for his tension.
Frostbite came back. “Great One,” said Frostbite. He settled himself, fur shifting. “Your Wail is an amazing power. From our scans of your core, it looks like you are also going to develop other vocal powers.” He paused. The silence stretched long and deep. Normally, Danny would have tried to fill it. “But,” said Frostbite, finally, “those powers are not compatible with your human vocal cords. Using them damages your human vocal cords.”
Danny nodded.
“Your ghost half will replace them,” said Frostbite, “but they… they would not be at all the same.”
Danny tilted his head.
“You are probably confused, because you speak in your ghost form, but the structures are very different. You… You would be unlikely to be able to communicate in a way humans would understand, without significant practice. Not while you were in your human form.”
That… didn’t make sense. He communicated with people now. Frostbite and the other ghosts communicated just fine.
“It’s just the type of ghost you are,” said Frostbite. “You are… powerful, Great One, bound to a powerful and painful path. I am sorry for that.”
There was something so pained and apologetic in Frostbite’s tone that Danny started shaking his head. He hardly knew what he was saying, and he still couldn’t help but reject it.
“I am sorry, Great One,” said Frostbite, “but if you keep using your Ghostly Wail, your human half will become mute.”
Frostbite knew, then, just like Danny knew. Danny wouldn’t be able to stop using his wail. Not while people were in danger. He couldn’t abandon people he could save.
Tears collected in the corners of his eyes.
It made him want to scream.
(While he still could.)
#danny phantom#ectoberhaunt trick#ectoberhaunt 2021#ectober 2021#ectober#fic#fanfic#ectober day 2: scream
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Have you given any thought into Minghao and Jun’s natal charts from Seventeen? I’ve been speculating their rising signs for months and I’ve had so many thoughts and I think I’ve come close? I don’t know them obviously so it’s just my assumptions.
I use to think Minghao was a Sag rising but I’m much more educated than I once was lol, and did a full chart analysis with a Cancer rising and omg!!! I think I got it. So I have him in my list as a 3rd decan Cancer rising with both his Venus in Capricorn and Sagittarius Mars in 6th. From my understanding those placements make a very detail-oriented person as well as a very disciplined person. He’s also a health nut and he sticks by it which immediately made me think of a 6th house person. His dancing is very VERY precise and I’ve literally never seen him mess up. His voice also reminds me of other Cancer risings with Venus is 6th because his voice is soft and prince-like. He also really reminds me of Wang Yibo whom I also believe could be Cancer rising. They have opposing Moons though, if my speculations are true. Leo opposite Aquarius Moon? What a duo. I love that combo.
He has the possibility of being either Cap or Aquarius Moon and I know the Moon is a very private placement over all. So it’s always hard to guess but with Cancer rising, it’s early Aquarius. I actually think that fits because he doesn’t remind me of any other Capricorn Moons and his relationship with his mother reminded me of an Aquarius Moon. There is a video of them being very soft and dancing with one another. He also seems very reserved emotionally in a more Saturn-Uranus energy rather than pure Saturn. I have Capricorn Moon friends and they don’t remind me of each other. As you can see, I’m very passionate about Cancer Rising Minghao. I’ve put a lot of thought into it. Too much, maybe.
As for Jun, omg. He’s been a rollercoaster. I use to think Leo. Again, I’ve come a long way. Then I thought Virgo. But I was quickly skeptical. So I’ve now settled on Gemini, but I haven’t put much thought into it other than he really REALLY reminds me of a Gemini rising with a Sun in 1st. He’s known to be really weird and which makes me think he has intercepted houses so an Aquarius 10th. But I’ve Bangchan also has this and they don’t remind me of each other. And I know Lee Know is also a possible Gemini rising and those two do remind me of each other! So I’m at a loss. I don’t know much about Jun. He’s a bit more private. A great dancer with a sweet voice as well. Ugh. I need to analyze him further. I’ve loved taking with you about the other SVT member’s so I was excited to share my theories on these two. They don’t get enough love, honestly.
Hey! x
First of all, for anyone else who’s interested in reading op’s argument you can read the rest of it below the cut since they’ve send in three messages in total! And thank you for taking the time to send such a thorough analysis, literally love love love how you explained everything so well!!! (I’m sending big brain energy here hehe). If I reopen the ask box, feel free to talk further about any seventeen rising sign theories! xx
Starting off, I still feel like I know way too little about several seventeen members in order to construct such articulate hypotheses as you lol, so big kudos to you op! x
About Minghao:
I can totally see we’re you’re coming from! Tbh I feel you strongly with the protective nature of his, in a way he appears very serious (not necessarily about himself all the time but more about things and stuff you know) Like the type of serious that ties strongly to your integrity and way of life. This sounds like I’m making him out as this snobbish and unfunny person but I really don’t think that!
Don’t ask me why but from pure observation of him in groups he seems to be very sensitive/aware of the overall vibes and collective emotions, having a potential double water, especially with a rising in the neptune degree could lead to someone being protective/picky about their social engagement and how much they give to others. With a 3rd decan cancer rising it would put his moon-Uranus conjunction in the 7th and not to be that but it would fit with the way he appears on-off or better said disconnected and strangely connected to people. Also that he (from what I’ve seen and heard) has a partially straight forward and progressive understanding of human interactions and connections. And he’s surprisingly open about it like it feels like he knows when it’s important to talk and set things straight (what a Scorpio Mercury thing to do honestly). I’ve seen that one video in which he was talking openly to fans that it’s okay that their interested for seventeen will fade after a while and that their job as idols is to ‘keep company’ in that sense and that at best the fans can take lots of positive experience and feelings from their journey as a carat. I mean, cancer leads with emotions, as a rising one he does approach the world in that matter, and as his Aquarius moon would be his chart ruler I think it would explain at least why he seems to approach situations and people from an all understanding and very holistic perspective. Aquarius is the sign standing for the people and groups after all, so no matter how he appears he shows his values by the way he deals with other beings, especially those that are weaker/misunderstood. Lol thats so cliche but yes fighting for the underdog behavior which both Aquarius and cancer reaaaallly have an affinity for.
But a chart ruler in the 8th is not far off I think, so when it comes to that I’m pretty open for any further inputs or discussions! Also with a later cancer rising it would put his sun in the 4th house, which further can add to the protective energy around him or at least his energy being focused more inwards than outwards.
The fashion sense in regards to cancer and neptune energy I 100% agree on! Also the frosh thing 🤡🤡🤡 i don’t think he looks like a frog as in he looks bad because I guess most people associate it that way since frogs are not really associated with beauty lol, but tbh it’s cool to know he vibes with frogs 😎😎😎😎 because that’s just the way to go, frogs are indeed very cute and maybe he does find some emotional peace and connection looking at these slimy green fellas <33
Anyways the cancer rising theory is pretty solid imo!
About Jun:
I love Jun so much and I feel like a disappointment but he’s one of the members I feel like I know too little about so if I have not a lot on it to say forgive me 🥲 (the cost of being a multifan).
First of all the resemblance between him and Minho from stray kids YES I thought that the first minute I saw them!! Minho has apparently quiet a few doppelgangers (looking at you sungchan), but I feel like it’s the way their face is structured and the overall vibe it gives (pixy like, observant, I’m telling you one thing gemini risings have in common is the gleam in their eyes and the pointy/lengthier features they sometimes tend to have).
From what I’ve gathered he feels like he’s reaaally into his own world. In a way, I can thus see him having his sun and venus conjunction actually in the 12th house as well.
Always being somewhere else, i don’t think he’s unable to connect with others, but I think he’s disconnected in the sense that he processes things just a tat different as 12th house people do, you know?? Like looking at situations as if it were a snowball in their hand or a magic mirror. They know more than you but also they’re not present and with you on the same boat mentally.
He’s also very out of pocket in the best way possible, bless his Aries Moon for that as he seem to say stuff that’s just on his mind too quickly, love that about Aries moons hahah.
He said once that he’s comfortable to be expressive with the members but really shy around people he doesn’t know, I’ve seen that quiet a bit with sun and venus in the 12th house. A Sun and Venus conjunction in the 12th would need the right people perhaps in order to be comfortable in their entertaining stage persona. With a late 3rd decan gemini rising his Mc would be in Pisces (makes too much sense, he’s an endearing ‘airhead’ as it’s called), his Mercury and Mars conjunction would be in the 12th house as well and I remember that he once said that his mind is very vivid and he thinks in a grandiose way but he could never be able to properly express it and put it into words/give it justice. And it can make sense with chart ruler being Mercury in the 12th house. Especially with a sign as taurus that is associated with creativity/artistry, a fixed sign that is all about maintenance but also expansion of their desires. Taurus is also a creature of comfort so could add to the fact that he needs solid time to properly warm up to people in order to get a bit more unhinged.
LOL YEAH I SAID I HAVE NO THOUGHTS TO THIS BUT HERE I AM, anyways I think gemini rising is so far pretty spot on!!!
-> Message 2: AAA WAIT wait wait. There’s more on Minghao i forgot to include. I wanted to elaborate more on Cancer rising just in general. So he went on this survival show right? As a mentor. And the way he treated the trainees was very sweet. He gave them advice and wanted to be very genuine and comforting to them. I know Cancer naturally take on a healing role no matter where it’s in, but there’s a slight dilemma with Cancer rising in that sense that I will get to in a moment. So he also has caring behavior towards other members where he’ll fix there hair or their clothes and he even once defended Mingyu against mean comments about his tan skin. He proceeded to comfort him and reassure him that he was handsome no matter what.
The dilemma is that I know Cancer in certain decans can make them a bit colder in their demeanor. They can appear guarded and suspicious which people choose to forget and he fits that vibe perfectly. He’s a very sturdy shoulder to cry on, rather than a coddling one. So with the trainees on that show he was a very comforting presence but he was still able to get to business and help them without being overly stern. His Aquarius Moon could also probably lead to his cold/apathetic demeanor while still seeming very comforting.
Also! His Venus and Mars in 6th make him very caring towards animals and he proves that constantly with comments he makes about adopting not shopping, and anytime there are animals on set, he gravitates towards them. I don’t know if his chart ruler is 7th or 8th with 3rd decan Cancer rising but his Moon is so early that it probably falls in 7th. Which makes sense, in my personal opinion. Okay I’m done, sorry for flooding your ask box, I just had to get that in!! ♥️🥀
-> Message 3: FRICK!!! 1 more!!! Minghao’s amazing style and styling ability is textbook Cancer/Pisces!!! I remember those iconic decan rising posts by venusinsecond who is now gone, Rest In Peace, mentioned that Cancer with the Neptune sub-influence was very artistically inclined and he is, but they mentioned fashion specifically and his fashion sense is what he’s known for!
Also I got pissed once that someone said Cancer risings have frog faces but Minghao literally vibes and associates himself with frogs. Ugh. Anyway, I see it now. In the most flatteringly way possible. Sorry again. I literally contemplate what I submit after I do it and remember points I meant to bring up. I’m seriously sorry for the spam. My ADHD and I are excited today.
#replies#anonymous#i wanna tag this as clairdelunascent but I'll just pretend I am clueless hehe#we respect anonymity in this household#seventeen#seventeen astrology#minghao#jun#xu minghao#wen junhui#astrology#zodiac
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I didn’t apply all of these descriptions but these are the main three I had in mind while writing this. How did I attract so many fans of the crusty boi? Either way, welcome to the club!
Words: 1.5k (how the hell did that happen there’s barely any sex)
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The website didn’t explain what the “LOVER” cheat does. Probably unlocks a deleted path that didn’t make it into the official game. Or maybe he just gets a head-start on his Affection progress with you at the very beginning. Or maybe it doesn’t do shit – that could be why there’s no explanation.
Well, now that he knows how to do it, it wouldn’t hurt to test it himself. Shigaraki absently scratches at the irritated skin on his neck as he boots up the game. The directions were fairly simple and easy to remember.
1. Start a brand new file.
Ugh, he despises games that hold only one save file. It’s not like a visual novel holds up much space. What if you want different files in order to experiment with different choices? It doesn’t matter in his case anyway; he 100% completed the game months ago. With no regrets, his original game was deleted and a new one began.
> What is your name?
He might as well stick with the one he used last time.
‘SHIGGY-SENPAI’
The introduction cutscene began, the protagonist going on about the new town he just moved into. Pretty by-the-books, as far as romance openings go.
2. Finish the intro. Once you meet Y/N, go to the menu.
After skipping through a bunch of fluffy dialogue, you finally appear in all of your cute glory. Once you’re done introducing yourself, Shigaraki brings up the main menu.
3. Type in “LOVER”
Just like that? Alright then...
Right after inputting the final letter, a sparkly ping sound straight out of a magical girl anime could be heard, and that was it. Okay...it sounds like he did it correctly.
When he returned to the game, his success was much more evident. You were staring directly at the screen - almost through the screen - with a glowing expression he’s never seen. Each and every one of your reactions have been seared into his brain after so many hours of gameplay. This was new.
“You...do you really mean that, SHIGGY-SENPAI?”
What? Voice acting? Though you did say his name pretty stiffly, as expected when a computer tries to pronounce custom text, but what the hell? Why would this be hidden as a cheat?
“But it’s so soon, and I’m not very experienced...” You blushed and shyly twiddled your fingers.
Oh.
“But I already trust you, and I want you too.”
Oh.
It’s that kind of path.
A hidden adult route. Shigaraki really likes that, even though this would’ve had a much stronger impact if it happened on his original file, the one where he was fully bonded to you. Sucks that he needs a fresh file in order to fuck you.
Shit, he’s not even prepared for this. Maybe he should go grab the lotion and a couple of tissues, assuming that this special scene will make for pretty decent fap material.
But the dialogue continued automatically. You creeped closer to the screen as you gushed about your feelings for him. “I want to make love to you forever and ever!”
You were getting really close, and with a show of impressive animation, your hand reached out to touch the fourth wall...
And the screen began to distort and ripple.
What the fuck?
“I just can’t wait to feel your amazing cock.” Your fingers began to phase through the fucking computer screenWHAT THE FUCK?!
“Take me, SHIGGY-SENPAI!”
Just like that, a full-sized bitch materialized out of the game and onto his lap, nearly toppling his gamer chair.
Even in the darkness of his room, your eyes shined brightly as they studied his pale face. “You’re even more handsome up close!”
Shigaraki was still too stunned to even respond to the rare compliment. Only when you began to pull down his pants did he finally find his voice again.
“Wha–ah–who the–hey!” He knows that he shouldn’t be afraid of a hottie touching his cock but ooooh shit she’s already stroking him.
“Ah, you’re so big!” You stared at his untouched manhood in awe, watching him become more erect after every pump of your soft hand.
“Fuck, am I?” He gasped.
“Mmhmm! And I bet you’re really tasty too!” You say before he’s suddenly engulfed with the very real warmth of a mouth.
Fuck fuck fuck he isn’t gonna last. He was ready to jerk off, not actually get his dick sucked. It feels more amazing than he ever imagined, your tongue working along his sensitive flesh, and those lips sucking at him so eagerly.
When his hand grabs the top of your head, he realizes too late that all five of his fingers are tangled in your hair.
You nearly fall over from how suddenly Shigaraki rolls back in his chair. You look shocked, confused, and...very much not a pile of dust.
“What’s wrong, SHIGGY-SENPAI?”
He looked at his hands, then at you, then at his hands again.
Then he takes hold of your face and shoves you back into his groin, because he can touch you, he can touch another fucking living thing without any worries about completely destroying it. Must be some crazy logic about you being data from a videogame or something. He doesn’t care, he’s so horny, feels so good having his cock so far down a hot tight throat, he just might burst...
Wait, he might have just done exactly that.
“Ah, shit,” he watches you pull back and swallow with the most satisfied grin.
“That was quick, SHIGGY-SENPAI!” You really need to stop saying his name like that. It’s fuckin’ weird. “I didn’t even get to feel you inside me.”
“Shut up,” the mixture of emotions he’s been experiencing ever since your ass crawled out of the screen like a girl in a cursed video is starting to piss him off. He’s so insulted and thankful that this fictional bitch gave him his first blowjob and made him nut in the span of sixty seconds. “Just give me a few minutes.”
A few knocks on the room’s door startles both of you.
“Tomura, the Vanguard Action Squad is ready to move out.”
Shit!
“I’ll be out in a damn minute, Kurogiri.” Shigaraki moves to get out of his seat, only to be stopped by his new partner.
Your sparkly puppy eyes are so grossly cute, yet it has his dick twitching again already. “Are you leaving me already, SHIGGY-SENPAI?”
“Quit saying my name in all caps.”
“Okay, ˢʰᶦᵍᵍʸ⁻ˢᵉⁿᵖᵃᶦ.”
“Not like that. I can barely hear it.”
“How about SHIGGY-SENPAI?”
He slaps a hand over your mouth. “Just stop saying my name.”
A much harsher knock rocks the old door. “Hey, you ugly bastard,” That sounded like the Dabi asshole. “The hell are you doing in there? Jacking off to anime girls?”
Shigaraki scoffed. When’s the last time that burnt Stain fanboy got his dick sucked?
As much as he wants to join in on terrorizing the brats at U.A, he really wants to get laid today.
“Just go without me!” He yells through the walls. He nearly misses your muted squeak of joy.
“Eh?” Hearing Dabi’s annoyed muffled voice was pretty amusing. “You’re just gonna sit on your ass in your room while we do the work?”
The villain’s retort catches in his throat when you take his hand and begin to slowly lick at his fingers, all while pinning him with an innocent gaze.
“Your fingers are so pretty,” You whispered.
It’s so difficult to pay attention to the words being uttered outside of the room while his hands are being placed on your chest. BOOBS.
“Please trust Tomura. I’m sure he has faith in you all handling this mission on your own,” Kurogiri tries to explain. Shigaraki knows him well enough to know that he’s probably irritated as well, but there are titties in his hands so who gives a fuck.
Dabi releases an exasperated groan. “I knew this whole League of Villains thing was bullshit. Shouldn’t have bothered.”
Shigaraki slows his exploration of your breasts to shout, “If I make you the leader of the mission, will you shut up?”
“......Yes.”
“Well, I pronounce you leader of the Vanguard Action Squad. I’ll even give you a Nomu. Have fun.” The two of you are rushing to lift your shirt off for better access to your skin.
“Fuck yeah,” Dabi’s voice is still fairly close. The sooner he pisses off, the better. “I can probably pull this off better than you, anyway. Come on, psycho girl, we’re gonna go round up everyone else.”
Toga can be heard squealing excitedly as they both step away and finally give him his privacy back. You look absolutely lovestruck by the entire exchange.
“You gave up an important mission just for me? You really do love me!”
He just rolled his eyes and lowered his head to take a hardened nipple into his mouth, enjoying your sounds of delight.
He can’t wait for the next time he faces those stupid heroes. He’ll be smarter, stronger, and can even tell them that he got his dick wet.
Oh, the collapse of hero society is going to be glorious.
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AOT Characters with a filipino S/O!
[Author Note: I just made this out of impulse lol, I’ll make a part two with the AOT veterans- if it’s requested then I’ll make a part three with the Marley Warriors- feedback is also appreciated on all my posts :))]
[Summary: It’s just headcanons, AOT with a filipino S/O lol, that’s it. that’s the post.]
Recommended song: Sa Susunod Na Lang - Skusta Clee ft. Yuri.
Gender Neutral Reader.
Theme: Fluff, Modern AU.
TW: Swearing.
Characters: Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Marco, Connie, Sasha.
Eren Jaeger
He probably fucks up his greetings with your parents, surprisingly your dad loves him, both of them talk about basketball and boxing, whenever Many does a fight, you and him come over so Eren could watch with you dad.
This man gets bodied by your dad ALL THE TIME during basketball, it’s valid because your dad used to be a basketball player.
He eats with his hands, yes he also got that from your dad. Your mom always comes up to you, while Eren and your dad talk, she’s happy that you found someone, and that Eren reminds her a lot of your dad.
Mans swallows rice like it was no one’s business, he eats that shit with barbecue and vinegar.
You can’t tell me he gets drunk with your dad and his friends?? They watch boxing matches and eat peanut while drinking beer.
For some reason he acts like he lives there?? Like the whole community knows about him, the kids like playing with him, the guys like doing karaoke and drinking beer with them, and the titas and lolas love talking about your relationship with him and how they would totally marry a guy like that if they ever met someone like that when they were younger.
His favourite thing about the culture? Probably how open the people were, they were very generous and kind.
Armin Arlert
When you first told him, he was kind of like, “okay??” but he also took time out of his day to research your culture, he’s the type to catch you in a sad mood where you really miss your country, and take time out of his day to try his best to make food from your culture.
He’s mastered to cook Tofu Sisig and Halo-Halo. You always ask him to make it for you whenever you’re sad.
He could never understand how your family’s able to sit in your traditional clothing, he tries his hardest not to scratch, he literally looks at you with a look begging for help because he was itchy but he didn’t want to take it off.
You had to explain that he doesn’t always have to participate in your culture, because respecting your culture was enough for you. Mans cried because he thought he was horrible for not wearing the Barong for the whole ceremony.
He does loves trying filipino recipes, he loves seeing you cook adobo or tapsilog in the morning, it just fills the house with an amazing aroma.
he knows how to say ‘i love you’ in Tagalog and he has fully replaced ‘I love you’ with ‘Mahal Kita.’
Favourite thing about the culture? The language, he just loves learning new words everyday, his favourite saying so far is, “Huwag kang mag-alala. Akong bahala.” (Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.)
Mikasa Ackerman
Poor baby was confused, she caught you talking on the phone in another language and she just stared concerningly at you, forgetting about whatever she’s doing.
She was also afraid to try your food?? Until you shove a ube-filled riceball (in filipino, Buchi) in her mouth, she ends up making it her comfort food, she asks you to make Buchi with her, she likes to eat the left over filling.
she actually wants to keep trying some of your culture’s food, her favourites so far is definitely Taho and Kaldereta, and of course Buchi.
She can’t say much in tagalog but she does know traditions, she did the binasuan dance with you once, amazingly she kept all cups in balance for her first time.
She knows how bless and actually calls people tita and tito, or ate and kuya. She was kind of, ahem, convinced, to call your parents nanay and tatay.
Your parents always complain about how you haven’t married Mikasa yet, Mikasa was confused about why she could hear them talking about her, but you reassured her that it was only just your parents egging you to marry Mikasa. In which she blushed in return.
Mikasa also learns recipes from Armin, those two cook for ther S/O’s so much that even their S/O feel like their not filipino enough, they got to try things even they didn’t know filipino culture had.
Jean Kirstein
SUPRISINGLY, he knows what blessing is, went as far as saying “Mano po.” whenever he did.
your dad hates him for some reason lmfao like your dad’s always staring at him with a weird expression.
He’s scared of your dad, no cap. first time you guys went on a date and didn’t have a house together, he almost shit himself talking to your dad.
You tried to teach him to do the tinikling dance and he almost broke his leg.
You and your parents conversed by yelling at each other, like Sasha, he too thought that you were arguing with them and he tapped you on the shoulder like, “Should I leave?-” You were confused as he was, you had to explain that yelling was a way filipinos communicated.
He was concerned when you would hit him while laughing, you also had to explain that was also something most filipino’s communicated.
He tried picking the language up but he just butchers the pronunciation.
Favourite thing about your culture is the places, if he could he probably would’ve bought a private island.
Does this man know how to cook filipino food?? Yessir!! He’s absolute god at cooking, imagine when he finds out we have a whole CHEESE ice cream-
Mans was confused confused, why..would you like cheese ice cream?? surprisingly he likes the ice cream, it’s sweet and salty??
Connie Springer
THIS MAN- he thought filipino was a sexuality?? when you told him, he’s like “so, what gender do you prefer then?”
HE WAS DUMBFOUNDED WHEN HE FOUND OUT WHAT FILIPINO MEANT-
I just know he shared filipino swears with Sasha, he actually grew accustomed to them, once in a while you’ll hear, ‘PUTANGINA’ throughout the house, because he stubbed his toe.
ugh he rocked the barong too, AND HE ROCKED HIS TINIKLING DANCE.
your titas seemed to love him?? Every time you talk to them, they ask if he’s doing okay.
He actually is a simp for filipinos, he was awestruck with how much beautiful women and men there were in the Philippines.
you cannot tell me this man doesn’t watch Manny Paqcuiao’s boxing fights.
In general he tries his best to respect your culture and not disrespect them, but he cannot bless for the life of him.
favourite thing about your culture is the adobo, he says its “bussin’”.
He drinks with your titos and your dad. No way he doesn’t, he also plays basketball with them.
traumatized somehow by the naked children running down the street sometimes- Filipino streets man, a little too comfortable-
He was shocked to find out that some people showered outside?? Like comfortably?
Man covers his whole face bc he feels like a perv.
Marco Bodt
Absolute researcher in your culture, like Armin, he actually makes sure he’s not disrespecting it or anything.
HE DOES THE BLESS GESTURE, but he whispers in your ear about how he accidentally blessed one of your titas too hard
his favourite filipino dish is Buko Pandan, he literally couldn’t help but get seconds when your grandma offered him a cup.
tbh he rocked his barong, he looked so good, like GAH DAYUM.
he picked up some words since he really loved being around your family, you were lively and your family was so open to accepting him.
you and him danced in a barong and baro’t saya for your wedding reception.
genuinely, he was in fearful awe when you caught a rat your parents have been complaining about in their house, remind you rats in the Philippines are as big as kittens
He also calls you Mahal, it’s kinda cringey but you thought it was cute.
Favourite part of your culture, the clothing, he’s always asking to go to parties just so he can wear the barong.
he’s also deathly afraid of the bodies of water the Philippines has, he doesn’t know if murky water scares him more than clear water in the islands.
Mans tried his best to corporate your culture into your guys’ wedding, until your Tito Philip brought a WHOLE ASS LIVE CHICKEN as a wedding gift?!
he was kinda sad y’all didn’t keep the chicken.
Sasha Braus
Sasha honestly didn’t know that your were filipino until you spoke your language with a family member, you guys were yelling at each other and Sasha thought y’all were fighting-
she wants to learn the language BUT ONLY THE SWEARS, connie and her both.
she loves when you speak to her in your langauge, she loves guessing what you’re telling her. SHE ALSO LOVES WHEN UR PARENTS TRY TO SPEAK TO HER AND THEIR ACCENTS COME OUT.
you guys actually went to the Philippines for your guys’ honeymoon. did she almost spend all your money? yes, did you let her? duh.
Her most favourite thing about your culture is definitely the food, and beautiful people like you.
Genuinely rocks the Baro’t Saya, her short hair goes well with the dress, her colour was a dullish-pastel pink, she had a matching fan with it too!
She wore it for your birthday, almost ruined it by almost spilling fruit salad on it.
THIS WOMAN- SHE WAS LITERALLY CRYING TEARS OF JOY WHEN SOMEONE BROUGHT OUT THE LECHON (a whole roasted pig).
Yes, she almost ate half of it, she would’ve probably finished it if it weren’t for her eating everything else, a human compost bin, you got leftovers? She’ll eat em.
She loved going to Jollibee with you, you and her have dates where you literally eat almost everything off the menu.
#aot imagines#aot x reader#aot veterans#aot x y/n#aot#aot headcanons#armin arlet x reader#mikasa#mikasa x y/n#armin aot#miche zacharias#miche x reader#mike zacharias#erwin snk#erwin x reader#eren x you#eren aot#levi attack on titan#levi ackerman x reader#hanji zoe#hange zöe#bertholdt#annie leonhart x reader#reiner braun#reiner x reader#jean kirschtein x you#jean kirstein#marco bodt x reader#connie springer#sasha braus
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How do you think the argument after the NYC pics started? Mayte Tom texted her while being angry lol
Idk Anon lol 😆
But I'm assuming it prob started off as text messages, if it even escalated to a phone call. 👀
Either way....Whether thru text or phone call, all I envision is a lot of shouting 🙈 Idk why lol....
I def don't think it was a "calm" conversation at all. 👀 I think Z is naturally zen, and I don't get the impression that she usually likes a lot of confrontation, but I think even she prob raised her voice or wrote in all caps lol on that occasion.... because I think Tom was HOT that day 😤, and I don't think he held back.
Smthg DEF went down, coz he started unfollowing ppl on her end, and she never paid him any attention on social media for months after that... even though he re-followed Darnell days later. 👀
So yeaaa..... smthg went down for sure. Cuz you don't act that way just because your ex unfollows your friends... esp not if you've already "moved on" and are dating someone new anyway. 😏 Why would you be upset? Unless..... 👀
And the way Z just seemed to slip into some type of depression during the beginning of the pandemic was also kind of weird to me. She was like off the grid for like over a month, and then her mom was posting all these stories about moms for mental health of their children and stuff..... 😔 I just feel like she was going thru a lot during that time from like Feb - July 2020 (ie. the NYC pap pics coming out and outing the rlshp with JE, the fallout with Tom, the covid-19 pandemic, being shut in during lockdown, not being able to use Euphoria as her therapy to distract her from her problems, JE leaving to go back to Australia, going through a quarter-life crisis and not knowing who she is without WORK, Tom dating Nadia - you know she had to know, the Jacdaya breakup, the death of George Floyd, the BLM marches, Trump and his craziness 🤪, etc). There was just SO MUCH going on!!! 😩😭 Ugh last year was depressing!
When she told Sam on the set of M&M that she "hasn't been doing too well....", I believe it! I could sense it too! So much stuff happened to her starting from 2019 onward. I think M&M really helped her to kind of let things out and slowly get out of her "funk". She seemed waaay happier after she won her Emmy imo. 😁 She seemed more back to normal from what I could see.
But Feb - July 2020 seemed particularly rough for her. I also remember her looking a bit "buzzed" right around that time back in Feb when she had gone from NYC with JE to then Australia again..... She just looked so weird around that time....and then there was that weird interview where she was looking out of it.
Maybe it's just my eyes lol but....
Chiiiiiiilllllle..... She was going through it! Who knows what he was giving her when they were together.... 🥴 👀
Anyway, whew! Thank goodness those days are OVER. Z looks much happier and more lucid these days lol. 😊
Like literally GLOWING! 😍
So happy for my girl. ❤👌🏾
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To the Beat // drummer!Tom 1/2
(a/n) here it is!!! it took about a decade of my life but i think it was worth it also shoutout to @duskholland for hearing out my ideas when i was brainstorming and together with @captainpeggy40 for getting me through my breakdowns while writing. i got it finished!! <3 I really went all out with this fic, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! part 2 will come... sometime this week ;)
word count: 7939 (unnecessary content GALORE)
warning: drinking, swearing, crowded spaces, part 2 contains smut
you can find the band’s setlist here
not all songs are mentioned in the fic but it’s songs that i would really love to see them play haha. if anyone would be interested, i can make a seperate post on how i imagine them playing it (who sings and stuff idk)
Read part 2 here <---> extra headcanons here
With the right stranger, one night can feel like a lifetime.
“Will you please come?” your friend begged you over the phone. “It’s gonna be really fun!”
“You know, you say that a lot, yet I never have as much fun as you promise.” You sat down on your bed, looking out the window as the rain hit every surface outside. It was not exactly the weather you felt like going out in.
“Then that’s on your extremely high expectations, not on me.” She stated, “But pleeease.” She kept on whining, and you knew she wouldn’t stop until you gave in. It always went like this. Always.
“Ugh, fine.” you fell back on the soft mattress, your head only missing the pillow by an inch. “Where is it actually?” There was the question you both dreaded. You, because you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. Her, because she knew you wouldn’t either.
“It’s at Suki’s,” she mumbled, but you could still hear her just fine.
“That’s where you work right- please don’t tell me you’re working tonight?!” you groaned into the phone.
“I am, but I’ll be done around 9.30 I think, so there’s still plenty of time for us to hang out! Besides, you already said yes, and NO TAKE BACKSIES!” she said this all extremely fast and screamed the last two words into your ear. Then, on top of that, hung up as soon as she finished, not giving you even a second to fight back. Not sure what happened, you stared at the black screen of your phone in confusion.
She said the concert started at nine o’clock. Did she really expect you to go to this thing and spend half an hour by yourself? Or did she want you to sit at the bar while she poured drinks for everyone? Either way, none of those options felt appealing. For a solid minute, you contemplated just not going, just… not showing up. Turning off your phone and watching a movie or something at home.
But at the same time, you hadn’t left the house for a long time. And it was Friday night. Why not go out and see some obscure little band. What was their name again? Your friend had mentioned it, but you already forgot. Maybe it was for the better too. That way, you couldn’t look them up beforehand, and if they were shit, you would just find out there and not have another thing to be dreading as you got ready. Or maybe they would be good. Then it would be a pleasant surprise on the spot.
You checked the time. 7:27pm. That gave you about an hour to get ready and then some time to actually get to the bar. Should be doable.
So, you hopped in the shower to get all fresh again. Even if it would all get ruined later on in the night by standing in a sweaty crowd. It’s the effort to look presentable that counts. Then, you picked out an outfit that would be comfortable in the before mentioned crowd. You could never go wrong with the simple jeans and a t-shirt combo.
Looking in the mirror, the thought of Not Going popped up in your mind again. There was nothing really obliging you to go. And the idea of standing there listening to the loud music, whether it was good or not, sounded slightly exhausting.
No, you reminded yourself, it would do you good to leave the house once in a while. Have “fun”. You checked the time once more, 8:14. You had done everything a bit quicker than you expected. The Uber you had arranged for yourself would be there in a few minutes. So, you were stuck in that kind of waiting limbo, sitting on your couch, not sure what to do. Eventually, you put on your shoes and got your keys and were ready to head out.
The drive was quick and thankfully, mostly quiet. It was only a minute or two before you reached your destination that the driver decided to ask you where you were headed.
“Concert,” you said hesitantly. Why did these people always want to know your business? Thankfully, the man didn’t ask much more. And then it was time for you to get out of the car. The drive actually took much less time than you had expected and there was still some time left before the band would start to perform.
Suki’s was a bar downtown, in the basement of some kind of law firm. Their whole thing was that they let new bands and artists play each week so they could get some of the public’s interest going. Make themselves known to the world. It was literally and figuratively, an underground following that it had. Many, but at the same time, nobody knew about it. It was a secret amongst music lovers. Considering the bar wanted to stay its own secret, you never understood the bright neon lights above the entrance, going down the staircase all the way to the actual hall.
The bar itself wasn’t too big. Enough space for a small stage along one wall, a bar on the opposite side, and the rest was space for the crowd to either enjoy or hate the music being played. When you walked in the room was still relatively empty. You saw two guys setting up equipment on stage, you assumed it was the band. Behind them was a black banner with “Winter Solstice” written in scratchy white letters. Between the words, a star that was drawn on in precisely the same rough manner. You had to admit, it was a cool name.
Considering there weren’t many people there yet, you headed for the bar to get yourself a drink before it would be too crowded to even reach the counter. And there stood your friend, behind the bar talking to some guy. They were both laughing at something as you walked up.
“y/n! You came!” you squealed out, “what can I get ya?”
“A beer?” you said it more like a question.
“Coming right up.” And with that, your friend walked off to the tap to pour you your drink. It was more out of reflex when you sat down on the stool, you leaned your head on your hand, but you understood the question from the stranger when he spoke up.
“Not looking forward to it?”
Still with your chin on your knuckles, you turned to face him.
“Huh? Oh no, I mean… she kind of made me come here, but-” you tried not to sound too pessimistic, but the guy saw right through you.
“So, I guess the answer is yes.” He chuckled. Right then, your friend came holding your drink and put it in front of you.
“I’ll put it on your tap.” She was going to join the conversation but right then a group of tonight’s spectators walked up in need of drinks, so she was soon off again.
“I’m not not looking forward to it?” nothing in your voice made it sound like you were sure of yourself, but it was enough for him. You took a sip of your beer, which you could feel helping the situation. While doing that you looked over the brim of the tall glass to look at your conversation partner. Like you, he was drinking a beer himself and considering it was almost empty, he had done that either very fast, or he had been there for a while already.
Next, you took a look at him. From the profile, he looked pretty good. He was wearing a loose tank, showing off his arms. His dark curly hair was held back with a black cap that he wore backwards. What definitely stood out to you was his jawline. It looked like you could cut yourself on it just with the slightest of touches. For everyone’s sake, you quickly turned your gaze over to the extensive liquor collection in front of you. But you could see in the reflection behind the bottles how he was smiling to himself. He definitely saw you stare. This was awkward, and you only got here two minutes ago.
“So, do you know the band?” you asked in the hopes to weed out this weird situation you had created. For some reason, your question made him smile. In that type of way as if you had just mentioned an inside joke. Except you weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t laugh along.
“Yeah, they’re alright.” He shrugged. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he shot up straight in his seat. “I’m Tom, by the way.”
“y/n.” Then you remembered how your friend practically screamed out your name when you walked in, “but you already knew that.” Your phone vibrated with a text, so you took it out and immediately saw the time, it was already past nine. You looked over at the stage where the two guys were trying to untangle some chords. Clearly, it wasn’t starting anytime soon.
“What kind of music do they play?” You asked Tom while still looking at the band trying to get ready.
“A bit of everything, I suppose.”
You bit your cheek not to say anything that might come off rude, but he could still read you.
“I guess that wasn’t the right answer?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I just hoped to get something more specific, but as long as they’re good, I’ll enjoy it.” You took another sip of your beer as an excuse to shut up. He must think you’re such a bitch at this point. You saw him glance over your shoulder at the stage and then smile at you.
“I like you.” there was that chuckle of his again, “I’ll see you later, then.” And he got up. You were gonna ask why later? Why couldn’t you hang out now? You didn’t like to admit it, but you enjoyed his company, even though it was only brief and most of the time you spent it making yourself look like a moron. As superficial it made you sound, you simply enjoyed the presents of a good looking guy like him.
You were going to ask him, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd that started to form along the foot of the stage. More and more people were coming and joining in. The two guys from the band had finally untangled their chords and were placing their guitars over their shoulders, and plugged them into the amplifiers. That’s when you noticed that a spot was empty on the stage. The big drum set had no occupant yet.
So, while everyone waited for the drummer to show up, you took this time to look at the other two band members, trying to decide which one was the cuter one.
That turned out to be slightly more difficult of a task, you quickly realised. Though they were both very different, they were both also extremely good looking. There was the blonde, strumming a few simple chords on his guitar to warm up. Even in the dim light, you could see how perfectly chiselled his face was. He was wearing a slightly oversized button-up shirt with about half of the buttons open. The skinny jeans didn’t seem comfortable to you, but he made them work. The rings on his fingers reflected in the lights as he kept on strumming.
The other had a bit more of a playful vibe around him. His curly mop of hair bounced with every move he made. You could hear his loud and contagious laugh all the way from the other side of the room without the need for a microphone. His outfit was something completely different compared to the blonde. It consisted of a baggy t-shirt (that you could read the band logo on), with ripped dungarees that were only attached on one side. He had rolled them up, showing off his bright converse. His bass guitar was currently hanging behind his back as he adjusted the mic stand one last time. There was something familiar about him, though you were sure had never seen him before.
Then finally, a third person joined them. People cheered since it meant that they could finally start playing. You tried to get a good look at him before he hid behind the drum set. Hair was hiding beneath a cap, tank top… wait… was it-
You got up and walked through the audience. There weren’t that many people, so it was reasonably easy to get to the front. Or, almost at the front row, standing right in front of them felt a bit intimidating. Now you could see all three of them much better, and there was no denying it. Your new acquaintance Tom was the drummer. And when you looked over at the curly bassist again, you realised why he looked so familiar. It was not an identical resemblance, but there was enough that made you think they were related somehow.
You watched Tom spin one of his drumsticks in his hand. He had the biggest smile on his face, then he caught your eye and winked. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, you were sure of it. He was waiting for your surprised reaction, and you fell for it completely—hook, line and sinker.
The curly one got up to his microphone. “Hey everybody, we’re Winter Solstice,” his voice was much deeper than you had expected. Especially, considering that he actually looked younger than the other two, you noticed. “We thought you’d appreciate some more known songs tonight, so join in whenever.”
Alright, they were gonna do covers. That was not a wrong move at all. A lot of bands want to show off their own music, but most of the time that leaves the audience just swaying awkwardly because they don’t know the lyrics or what to expect.
“Here’s one you all should know.”
The blonde started playing his guitar, and it only took a second or two before everyone realised what song it was. Mr Brightside. It sounded a bit different, as their attempt to make the song their own, but the riff was unmistakably Mr Brightside. Everyone around you immediately cheered and started to dance along, waiting to sing the lyrics. You were too, of course, but all you could think about was Tom playing in the back. He looked so focused, but still didn’t let it sit in the way of enjoying the song.
In the song, the drums probably only started a beat before the lyrics, so you missed out on the first few words, but quickly you were singing too.
“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. Let me gooo,” the blonde guitarist sang. His voice wasn’t perfect, it was rough, some might have called it cursive, but in that right sort of way. It fit well with the rest of the band and how they played. In just a minute, they had gotten the entire room hyped up. Everyone was into it. Maybe it was because of the song choice, but you doubted it. A song like that can be tricky to sing to a new crowd. If you screwed it up, they’d hate you forever.
That was definitely not the case here, they had the crowd in the palms of their hands. With each beat, you were pulled in…or, was that just you?
The second verse started, and it was the bassist that began to sing: “I'm coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine-” There was no clear description of his voice. At least you couldn’t really pinpoint it. There was definitely that playfulness in it that he had been showing through everything he did. He couldn’t stay still, jumping in place, making his curls bump up and down as he went.
“It was only a kiss”
It was Tom that said the little interjection in the song. You had only looked his way at the end, while the other was already singing, but you felt as if he had been looking at you directly. No, he wasn’t. Why would he? You shook the thought off and continued enjoying the performance of the three men. You sang along just like everyone else.
And then the song ended. It was almost unbelievable that it had only been one song that they played, but they moved on to the next quickly.
The guitar faded out but came straight back, accompanied by a heavy bass line. Some people around you recognised the melody, but it took you a moment or two. Then it went quiet. The blonde leaned into his microphone, whispering the words.
“I’m the invisible man,” guitar riff “I’m the invisible man,” guitar, “Incredible how you can- see right through me!” His voice got louder as Tom joined in with the drums. Then those few seconds of bass followed which actually sent shivers up your spine. To put it simply, you were a sucker for good bass and beat. But what was it about them that sounded so good? You couldn’t think of anything particular that would have set them apart from all the other artists you had seen perform in the club through the years…
Still, seeing them have so much fun on stage, it was truly intoxicating, you wanted to join them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen someone jump around on that little stage while playing bass. You couldn’t wait to find out what their names were, but for now, “the curly bassist” didn’t take a second to stand still. The only time he stood in one spot was when he had to sing, and even then he moved around a lot.
The others didn’t have that same luxury. Of course, Tom did not have a lot of options, sitting behind his drum set. Yet still, he managed to light up the stage with his bright smile and the passion he put into his drumming. Any time you looked at him, you didn’t want to look away- which was hard, considering that the other two were also a great joy to watch.
The blonde, in his turn, stayed on his side of the stage, being somewhat stuck with his microphone since he had the most vocals. But he still had a great connection with the audience, you felt like.
Before you knew it, the second song had also come to an end. Cheers and applause erupted in front of the band, with you contributing to it as well, of course.
“Thank you, thank you,” the bassist took a little bow. Even though they weren’t playing any song, he still slapped one of the strings mindlessly. “Like I said, we’re Winter Solstice. My name’s Harry.” He introduced himself. Finally, you could call him something else than the curly bassist. Even though it was a very catchy nickname, you thought yourself.
“Here on the guitar,” Harry pointed out, “Is my good friend Harrison.” Harrison waved to the crowd, receiving screams from the audience as if it was filled with banshees.
“In the back,” Tom immediately started a soft drum roll, but Harry didn’t wait that long, “that’s Tom.” Tom reacted with a face that could only be described as “bruh”, making several people around you laugh. You wondered if it was rehearsed or if this was just how they were. Either way, it was cute.
Harry talked some more about how they were excited to play tonight, but you were looking at Tom. You watched him grab a water bottle and drink half of it in almost one chug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, you saw that he caught you staring. Even though you were between dozens of people, even though the light that was shining in his face- he saw you. And he winked again. In the next moment, you had to think if the heat burning through your body was an effect of that little gesture or because of how warm it was in the room. For your own sake, you went with the second option.
“Alright, here’s another song for you all,” it was a voice you hadn’t heard speak before. Harrison. “Here’s: You Oughta Know.” There was a mixed reaction from the audience, including you. Of course, you knew the Alanis Morisette song, but you had never heard it be played by men. It was definitely an interesting choice for them to play, especially after the Killers and Queen.
“I want you to know that I am happy for you,” it was Tom that started singing, as he drummed softly. You tried to control your thoughts as he kept on singing. Then the pre-chorus began, and you were shocked at how well they harmonised.
“Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide.” It actually gave you chills. How were you so excited about listening to three strangers sing?
At the chorus itself, everyone in the room went wild, singing along loudly. It was clear that the people were sold on this new version of the song. It was all fine. You were enjoying the show. It was actually fun. And then, Tom sang the next line-
“It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” It sure was a slap in the face. You had to remind yourself that it was just the lyrics of the song. And he was just a guy on stage that you had only exchanged a few words with prior. Yet, you couldn’t focus on anything from that moment on. You could barely comprehend their version of “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”, not even really understanding that they were playing a different song. It was just a big blur. But maybe it was for the better, because could you really cope with Tom singing the titular phrase of the song in that husky way that he did... debatable.
When you woke up from your daze, Tom had stood up to show the crowd the beat to clap to. You joined in before anyone noticed how far out of it you indeed were. Harrison finished the song off with a falsetto and then it was already time for the next song.
This time you knew what to do. You wanted to record at least some part of the show. And when harry started a bass solo, you made sure to get at least a bit of it and continued filming from there, ready to post it on your Instagram later on. Harrison joined in with the guitar, and you actually had no idea what song they were playing. More people didn’t seem to recognise the song immediately, which visibly amused the musicians. They couldn’t hide their grins even behind the microphones. Once again, the harmonies… how did they sound so good?
As the song continued, the more sure you were that you had heard it before, but it must have been very different from the original. No, actually… How did you not recognise Dua Lipa? It was not hard to forget about the original when you got to listen to this version. How had each song so far been this good, you still didn’t understand. You didn’t want it to end.
But unfortunately, right after that, they took another break from singing.
“Alright!” Harrison cheered (more squeals from his side of the audience followed. Apparently he had started to gain quite the following). “The next song is another classic, I like to think.” People whooed. “So we’d like some help from you guys if that’s okay.” The crowd seemed to be into it, so Tom followed with the instructions.
“Okay, so we’re gonna start playing in a sec, and Harry will sing a little melody. Just copy that, and we’ll be on our way.” In the meantime, Harry had gone off stage to grab a bottle of water, so everyone had to wait for a second. This gave Tom the opportunity to freestyle on his drum set. It was a simple beat, but it progressed into a more complex set. He, however, did it effortlessly.
Finally, Harry came back running, he threw bottles to the other two, which they both caught without a problem. Tom started to press the bass drum steadily, layering more on top of it. Then Harry joined with the bass, and ultimately, Harrison’s guitar finished it off. Harry leaned into the microphone.
“Ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, oooo-oo-oo,” he almost whistled, but not quite. He continued a few times, together with Tom and Harrison until everyone in the room was singing along. Then made that kind of gesture to show you had to stop. Harrison sang the verse. Anytime it was your turn, you’d just follow Harry.
You had been to many concerts, but not many new bands had much luck in getting a full crowd to participate in the song. But by the way they played, everyone just wished they could be in the band, playing along with them. Even if it was just dangling the triangle. You, however, didn’t want that, necessarily. You assumed that it was the fact that you hadn’t been out of the house in so long, that now that you had the chance, everything felt hundred times more great. So a concert that was already amazing, suddenly felt like a euphoric, once in a lifetime, experience… though that might go a bit too far. And it for sure helped that all three band members were hot. Like, really really hot.
Literally, too, the room was getting really warm at this point, and the guys were visibly hot also. It didn’t stop them from performing at 110% though. A few songs more passed by and Harry was still jumping around the stage. Harrison sang every note perfectly as he slew that guitar of his and Tom…
You could barely look at Tom. Playing the drums as hectically (in the good sense) as he did, you thought he would be exhausted by now. But he still had that big perfect smile on his face. The sweat was dripping down his arms, but it just highlighted his biceps, making it very hard for you to concentrate on the music. And then, no matter what he was doing, he would find you in the crowd and smirk or wink, making you even more flustered than you were before. The first time, you thought he was doing it to someone else. But then it happened again, and again. And the beat of drums led your heart. You could feel it in your throat as it kept pumping with the loud music.
It was during their little break which they used to goof around and play the intro of “Chelsea Dagger”, that you decided to go back to the bar. Your friend had said she wouldn’t leave you alone for the entirety of the concert, but you were already quite some songs in and there was still no sign of her. And you quickly realised why that was. Since the show had started, the entire room had filled up with people. You had never seen it be so crowded, in fact. And then the bar was packed with people asking for their drinks.
Your friend was indeed there, with another bartender, doing her best to pour the drinks quickly. But more and more people got thirsty, so it was easy to assume you would have to spend the rest of the night alone as well.
By that time, the band started on the next song of their setlist, and you really thought they were playing one big joke on you. Or at least this Tom guy was. As he loudly sang Sex on Fire, by Kings of Leon, you decided to sit this one song out from the front row and stay back, near the bar. It actually did you well, because it was much less hot than upfront. You could just stay there for the rest of the show. They had been through around ten songs already, so they must be done soon, either way, you thought.
And you were right. Ending with Come Together, the applause was bigger than through the entire night. The boys finished with extended solo’s of their respective instruments and a bow, and it was really over. Harry came up to the microphone one last time as the other two were already getting off stage.
“Thank you! We are Winter Solstice! Buy our merch at the door! GOODNIGHT!”
The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.
Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn’t even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd’s, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up.
“Hi. Can I get a (your size)” you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, “and a CD?”
“Yeah, of course,” Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice.
“y/n!” He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate.
“Hey,” you wish it hadn’t been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him.
“I thought you had left.” He noticed you leave? Not the point.
“No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Did you enjoy the show then?”
“Yes!” you said, a bit too loud, “You guys were great.” You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. “And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?” Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it.
Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison’s signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom.
“So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?”
“No, I’ll just wait ‘til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich.” That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter.
“Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we’ll be famous.” His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one.
“So why didn’t you tell me you were in the band?” you asked.
“What does it matter,” he chuckled.
“You let me ask all those questions about the band, it’s fucking embarrassing, man.” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself.
“Heh, sorry.” he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn’t know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well.
“Let me just pay for these, and I’ll be off.”
“No, it’s fine, on the house,” Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes.
“Are you sure? It’s really no problem.”
“Yeah, just promise me one thing.”
“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn’t want to jump onto that wagon too quickly.
“Will you stay? I’d really like to hang out.”
You weren’t sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert… but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely.
“Sure.” you gave in. “I’ll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-” you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.
Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you.
“Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?” she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you.
“Nothing?” you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. “Tom asked me to wait behind for him.” You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement.
“Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!”
“You know him?” you asked, surprised.
“Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning,” she explained. “And I mean, look at him.” she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically.
“So you think it’s safe for me-” what were you even gonna ask her?
“Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?” Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off.
“Broccoli, baby. I know.”
“Broccoli.” She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted.
You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you’d be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn’t seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter.
“He has got you whipped, hasn’t he?” she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn’t he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now… it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom… that would be fine. Just fine.
You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right?
You looked across the room and were glad to see that there were only a few people left. Harry had already started packing everything up that would most likely not be sold that night. You watched the three of them make some small chat with the people walking by, but all your real focus was on Tom and his deep stare right at you. It made your heart beat faster. With his arms across his chest, the muscles seemed even more prominent.
He was suddenly pulled back into the conversation, and it was as if he changed into a different person. All bubbly, none of that- what even was it that he looked at you? You decided to not think about it too much. One does not do well when dwelling about anything.
Finally, the last person bought their shirt, and they were done. Hoping it didn’t make you look too desperate, you didn’t waste a second to walk over to them. Harrison and Tom were helping Harry pack up the rest of the things that were left on the table.
“Hey,” you said awkwardly. Tom almost dropped the stack of shirts he was holding. Again, the attention fell to his arms. You had to force yourself to look up at his face, which didn’t help much either, but it made it easier to think thoughts that would not mean a one-way ticket to Hell.
“Hi! I’m so glad you stayed,” he said after putting those shirts in the box. “I thought we could go grab something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He spoke really fast, just showing how excited he was to talk to you again. To be honest, you weren’t necessarily hungry, but going out to eat with Tom didn’t sound too bad.
“Don’t you have to pack up?” You pointed back to the stage that still counted all of their equipment.
“No, we’re playing here tomorrow, again,” Harrison explained.
“Oh, cool.” Was all you said. It was cool, you just didn’t know how to say anything without sounding dumb.
“Well, shall we? There’s a diner on the way to my flat. It has the best burgers.” Tom exclaimed. You ignored the little mention of his apartment and focused on the burgers. He wasn’t suggesting for you to come over to his place. It was just a fact… right?
“Lead the way,” you told him, but before you left, you turned to the other two members of Winter Solstice. “It was nice meeting you guys.” Everyone waved, and so on, and you were off to eat.
It was almost midnight by the time you got there, but the diner Tom had mentioned did advertise as a 24/7. And it held up. When you walked in, you were practically hit in the face with the delicious smell of pie. You sat down in a booth next to the large window and very soon after a waitress walked up.
“What can I get ya?” she asked, flipping her little notebook open.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Tom asked. Then it was your turn.
“Just large fries for me, thank you.” The waitress wrote it all down, then continued to ask if you wanted anything to drink.
“Ooh, do you have milkshakes?” The woman smiled and nodded. “So a chocolate milkshake then.” You ordered.
“Make it two,” Tom added. Then the waitress went off, Tom leaned on the table toward you, with his hands in front of him. “So, just fries, huh?”
“I’m not super hungry, and I wasn’t going to steal your fries,” you explained, making Tom laugh and shake his head.
“You’re interesting, you know that?”
“I like to think so, yeah,” you answered straightforwardly. It was a pity you had not gotten your drinks yet, or you would have taken a very nonchalant sip. You leaned your chin on your hand, just like you did at the bar before the show. Except for this time, there was a smile hiking up the corners of your mouth. Tom mirrored your position.
“So how did you guys come up with the name?” you had been wondering that ever since you saw that banner hanging on the stage. It was always interesting to find out the thinking process like.
“You gotta ask Harry, he came up with it one day, and we just went along. He’s the more artistic one of the bunch.” Of course he is. Well, that didn’t answer anything then. But another question popped up in your mind.
“Are you guys related?”
Tom smiled at that question. “Yeah, Harry is my younger brother. Harrison has been my best mate ever since I can remember. We’ve always been close and messing around. Then one day we decided to grab some old instruments from the attic and- sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” He took off his cap again and ruffled his hair. You thought he would put it back on, but he left it on the table. There was pretty good lighting at Suki’s, but the colourful spotlights were no match to the bright LEDs of the diner.
“I don’t see how you thought that was boring,” you assured him. You truly enjoyed his little story, talking about his friend and brother. You had doubted the choice of going out to eat so late at night with a stranger, but now the reason was apparent. He didn’t want to be strangers-he wanted to get to know you. And you wanted to get to know him.
The waitress came back with two large milkshakes, topped with whipped cream and syrup. She said that the food would be ready in a few more minutes and left you to continue your conversation. You nudged Tom on to go on where he stopped previously.
“So yeah,” he cleared his throat, “we played and thought, hey that doesn’t sound shit, and we practised for a few months and decided some time ago, why not try and play.”
“Was this your first gig?” you asked in disbelief. He shook his head, though.
“We’ve performed a few times, but this was the first one that felt… real, you know. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this great connection with the crowd, and it felt great.” You nodded along with every word, without realising that you had been getting lost in his eyes. He had been looking into yours as he spoke about that connection, and it made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he meant you specifically.
“y/n?” He eventually asked, waking you up. You almost spilt your milkshake from the abrupt movement you made as you tried to sit up.
“What? Sorry.” You held the glass until it didn’t shake.
“I asked if you enjoyed it? The show?”
“Didn’t you ask that already?” Stupid way to answer! “But yeah, I loved it. You were really great- I mean, all of you.” but especially you, you wanted to add on, but that felt like going too far. As you were trying to come up with a normal-sounding answer there, Tom sipped from his milkshake. Something in his eyes told you that he could tell what you wanted to say, and that thought scared you a little bit. All you wanted to do was to give this hot guy a good impression of yourself, was that really that hard?
But he didn’t say anything about it. Just continued the conversation as you hoped he would.
“Well, I’m glad. Honestly, you had scared me a bit back then, when you left,” he admitted. And there were the heart palpitations again, beating faster and faster. You grabbed the cold milkshake because you could feel yourself getting hotter.
“How so?” you choked out.
“Just because I could tell you weren’t exactly looking forward to the show, and then I saw you leave and didn’t come back. I thought you didn’t like us.” Us. He said “us”. Then we did it feel like he just wanted to say “me”?
“I wanted to check up on my friend, and then I realised that it was much colder in the back, so I stayed there.” you explained again, “But why be worried about me, there were plenty of other people enjoying themselves.”
He was about to answer when the waitress walked up with two large plates. She put them on the table with a smile, which you noticed was more directed towards Tom than you. He responded with a tight smile himself, but only shortly, turning back to you quickly to respond to your question.
“No one there was as cute as you.”
“What?” This time you made sure not to make any sudden movements to save your food and drink on the table. Did he really say that? But he didn’t clarify himself, he just smirked, enjoying your flushed expression a little too much. He put a fry in his mouth and still ate it with that smug smirk. You just went and ate some of your own fries, avoiding eye contact with him. You just needed a second to sort your thoughts.
That second lasted a little longer, but at least you had the food to use as an excuse to avoid “awkward silence”.
“So do you play any instruments?” he asked. You looked up to see that he had almost finished his burger. When you saw the dish being brought up, you thanked yourself and any god watching out there that you didn’t choose to order one. It was absolutely massive, meaning you would make a complete mess out of yourself—a sight for no one to see but your tv screen on a lonely night.
“Uh, I can play a few notes on the piano but all very beginner's level.” You dipped a fry in your milkshake.
“Like what?” He seemed genuinely interested.
“Uhm.. the Flintstones theme song, for one. There was more, but I haven’t played in ages, so I doubt I remember anything.”
“Flintstones, huh, nice.” He took the last bite of his burger. Knowing how weird it is to look at someone when they’re eating, you looked out the window for a second. It was dark outside, and the rain had come back, letting all the street lights reflect in the asphalt.
You both finished the remains of your fries and milkshakes while making some more small talk. You got up simultaneously from the booth. Was it over now? You hoped not. You didn’t want to say goodbye.
You grabbed your things while Tom paid for the food. Then you realised he had left his cap on the table so grabbed it too. But your hands were already full, so you decided to just put it on. Backwards, just like he had been wearing it through the evening.
“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door.
“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.
“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.”
To be continued...
> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed
> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2!
>masterlist and link to taglist in bio
tagging:
@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @starkeybabie @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @perspectiveparker @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions @fallinfortom @londonspidey @spidey-reids-2003 @hollandcreep
#tom holland#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland au#band!au#drummer!tom holland#smut#tom holland smut#strangers to lovers#au
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Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 3
a/n: uwuwuwuwu this is an au since yanno,,,, they didnt really make it to nationals :(
for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!
GUESS WHOS BACK! BACK AGAIN!
anon:
may i request a scenario where seijoh made it to nationals and atsumu flirts with reader🥺
CAN WE BLS STOP THIS SANGWOO/ATSUMU TYPA BEAT BC I HONESTLY DONT VIBE W IT AND IT LOWKEY SCARES ME A LITTLE :o
OMLOMLOML YALL MADE IT TO NATIONALS
to be honest, it was,,, unexpected
you were sitting there, on the bench and gripping it in anticipation as seijoh and shiratorizawa were once again at a match point thanks to kyotani’s angry spike
going past 31, they were now 31-30 with seijoh in the lead
you could tell ushijima was getting antsy despite him covering it up and encouraging his team with a one-liner
your own team was buzzing with both nervousness and hope and iwaizumi was clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation for the last toss
when the ball went up, oikawa’s eyes flashed, arms moving to set and the red-haired spiky guy was now watching which spiker he was going to give it to
however
he tossed it to no one
instead, oikawa’s hand flicked and he dumped the ball
it was like in slow motion and as shiratorizawa’s players scrambled to the floor,
it was too late
the ball bounced on yellow polished floor before rolling away, completely unaware of what just happened and the lives it just changed
your mouth hung open, eyes trailing after the rubber ball like every single people in the gym
then it finally hit you
‘YOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’
a scream from iwaizumi lit the candle of happiness and you didnt even care, running out to the court to jump on your captain, tears flowing down his face and his arms squeezing you tightly against his chest
‘AKLDFJJSHKFEOIOWIHFSKESIFOEWIHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’
it was all a jumbled noise from everyone, your team, your coaches, the fans in the stand, and even from that orange boy and his team
the boys were hugging each other and crying and sobbing but oikawa’s hold remained on you, your own tears mixing with his sweat and coating his neck
‘you did it, oikawa-san. you did it’
you whimpered and he laughed and you felt him nodding
‘we’re going to tokyo. nationals!’
he choked out
‘OIKAWA!’
the entire gym rumbled and you basked in the joy that the entire team radiated before having to stand with the coaches so they could shake hands with shiratorizawa for a good game
the locker room was loud, even much louder than the gym, with kindaichi’s loud sobbing and mattsuhana’s loud celebratory singing and iwaizumi’s joking shouts and eventually joining in
iwaizumi held his arms out for you and you giggled, crashing straight into him
you wiped his sweat filled face and he sat down on the bench, with you standing between his legs and his large hands gripping your waist
‘it’s not a dream, right?’
he whispered, eyes closed at the gentle feeling of you caressing his face
‘no, iwa-san. nationals is ours’
you soothed and he let out another loud laugh before pulling you close and burying his face in your stomach, probably crying again but this time, out of joy
for years theyve tried
and now, they succeeded
well,,, nationals should be a good thing, right?
hmm,,, maybe the honor of going
but the other players??
oh god
it was obvious when miyagi’s representative entered through those doors and eyes immediately went to their manager
it wasnt like you were the only female manager but you were an unfamiliar team so you have never been seen before
uwu youre so pretty like bow down to the goddess
oikawa’s hold on your hand was tight and his eyes flitted to everyone who looked at them, as if signalling them to back off and you were his
‘wahh, oikawa-san! kageyama told me that the best of the best are in here! he told me to look for fukurodani and nekoma!’
seijoh’s eye twitched at the mention of your new-found friend who you’ve been texting back and forth and him secretly teaching you everything about volleyball since your own team has been too busy preparing for nationals
they watched you try and stand in your tippy toes to find the apparent red and black jerseys and the black, white and gold jerseys
hmm,,,, it seems everyone had the same colors
‘ne, y/n-chan, you trust our team, don’t you? if anything, we’re part of the best of the best! you got the best setter right here!’
oikawa grinned but you nodded distractedly
‘come on, we got to go unpack and train’
iwaizumi nudged so you had to stop looking and you followed your captain, who still held your hand
but this is a typical fanfiction ladies and gents
as you were walking towards the locker room, there was a team that wore maroon colored jackets and were walking towards you
again, this is seijoh’s very first nationals so nobody really knew of them
they were more familiar of the white and purple jackets of shiratorizawa rather than the mint green and white of seijoh
however, oikawa seemed to know them
‘ah’
he whispered out, making you look up at him but his sights were straight towards them, a hard and cold look
‘ara? fresh blood?’
you cringed at the weird analogy and the guy with the black tips, who you infered to be the captain, elbowed him
‘excuse us’
he nodded in greeting and you noticed the guy with the bleach hair and you did a double-take, blinking rapidly
‘oh sangwoo?’
KSLDFJKDLFJSLDK KILL ME ALREADY
watari coughed, knowing exactly what you meant and it seems nobody else did except for the sangwoo look-a-like
and he raised an eyebrow in interest
‘hm? you called?’
another guy with gray hair, who looked exactly like him, rolled his eyes and he pulled him forward to walk after their captain
but he didnt let off yet
as he passed you by, he leaned close, breath fanning your ear
‘but its miya atsumu, baby girl’
ON GOD I WANT TO COMMIT WITH HOW GROSS HE IS LIKE BLS
kyo, who was behind you, growled at him and pulled you behind himself
‘she has name, fcker’
atsumu faked a surprise and backed away with his hands up
‘alrighty, then. didnt know you had a bodyguard, girlie. but maybe,, later on, we could get to know each other. alone’
YALL THIS IS GOING TO GET BETTER LATER I PROMISE HES NOT A WEIRDO PERVERT AS HE SOUNDS
osamu was annoyed and dragged him away, leaving you with your team, who were also extremely pissed off, especially oikawa
‘heh, the best setter in the country and yet he acts like a horny dog’
oikawa seethed, a pointy smile etched on his face
‘eh? best setter?’
you wondered but not given an answer because your captain would be damned if that atsumu decided to show up again
the locker room was actually the same back home
but kindaichi was sobbing again
‘t-this room! the best of the best! i cant-too much-’
you were busy hugging him and wiping his tears to notice the third years huddling over by the corner
oikawa was sitting on the bench while iwaizumi was changing into his practice jersey and the other two were flanked beside the captain
‘of course theyve got their eye on her now’
oikawa mumbled, fingers laced together and touching his lips
‘what can you expect? y/n-chan is an extremely pretty girl’
mattsun shrugged
‘but ugh, if i see that cheese face again,, i will fight’
iwa threatened, angrily slipping his arms through the holes
‘he reeked nasty! gross!’
makki agreed
‘so we’re agreeing to keep her in our sights right?’
they agreed to oikawa’s question and were going to stick by that word
but,,,,
what can you expect from star-struck players?
maybe its because theyve worked for so long to reach this point that the fact that they’re even standing in the tokyo stadium felt like a dream
‘guys, i need to go and fill the bottles really quick’
they mumbled distracted agreements so you sighed and lugged the crate of bottles
thank god there was a fountain nearby and as you were capping the last one, a familiar voice rang from behind you
‘oh? baby girl?’
you flinched at the weird nickname and thought that if you stayed quiet, hed leave
‘chibi? hey?’
he asked and made his way to your side, you closing your eyes and looking off to the side
atsumu thought you were interesting, not like every girl who would spread their legs at him and press up to him
the fact that you even AVOIDED looking at him was so foreign to him and your dismissive attitude made him so drawn to you
‘look, im sorry if i made ya uncomfortable earlier’
he,,, apologized?
but you didnt know who he was so you didnt know how out of character it was for him to even say ‘sorry’
'miya-san, hello’
you mumbled, eyes now opened but still focused on the bottle you gripped
he cracked a smile and was he,,,, nervous?
usually, hed say something dumb or sarcastic to cut the tension, but it was like he was even,,, careful,,, with what he wanted to say next
‘how-um-you like it ‘ere?’
if osamu was to see him now, he’d think his brother was kidnapped by those aliens oikawa swore up and down were real and was replaced by some opposite dimension version of atsumu
you gulped, mustering up a small smile before turning to look at him
‘miya-san, dont take offense to this, but just know i have a very loud voice and i can lift 80 pounds. and im the first one to ever beat iwa-san in an arm-wrestling match’
you puffed your cheeks in intimidation with your eyebrows furrowed but accidentally looking more cute rather than scary
were you,,, threatening him?
atsumu paused for a second to assess the situation and really understand the underlying meaning of your words
then he laughed
a real hearty laugh that made him go for a whole minute
‘-ahahaha!! whew, chibi-chan, ya’r a rare one’
wait i dont know how to type you’re with an accent !!!!!
he let out a few more chuckles then wiped a tear that fell
you just stood there 🧍♀️
‘you think its funny, miya-san? yahaba-kun and i also have a supernatural telepathy phenomenon-’
‘chibi-chan, i swear i wont hurt ya’
he promised but you backed your face away, an eyebrow raised
‘thats what they all say. if anything, youre scaring me more so i’ll-’
‘wait’
he held out a hand out but he quickly curled it, pulling it back to his chest
‘i,,,, listen i know how basic this may sound but,,,, youre the first to ever be like this to me’
you rolled your eyes
‘you think i havent heard that before? i have oikawa-san in my team, for god’s sake! ‘youre one of a kind’ ‘youre not like other girls’ yadda yadda’ try harder, miya-san’
you tilted your head with a crooked smile
were you,,, playing hard to get?!
atsumu’s eyes shined, wanting to finally do the chasing rather than being chased
‘well, first off, chibi-chan, i need to know your name’
he leaned forward with his hands buried deep inside his maroon jacket pocket
‘my name? what good will that do? you already call me something else dont you? a name is meant to help people call each other and youve been calling me ‘chibi’ so what’s the point of giving you my birth name?’
even with a straight face, atsumu right away knew of your teasing as your eyes were shining brightly and had a hint of amusement in them
oh my god hes in love with you
he was in disbelief of your attitude towards him so he nodded slowly and laughed again
‘what can i do to earn that name then, chibi-chan?’
ehehehe kuroo,,,,, im in danger
you crossed your arms and pouted, leaning forward
‘ehh? why do you want it so bad? do you call others ‘chibi’ too?’
your expression of suspicion was so adorable that he couldnt stop himself from lunging forward and squeezing your cheeks between his fingers
‘so cute. youre my only chibi, chibi-chan’
you hummed, swiftly wiping his touch away from you
‘doubt it. ive only met you today and you’re already acting like this. what makes you think i think youre genuinely interested in me, miya-san?’
‘fate?’
this time, you chuckled, head leaning down
and as you looked back up, your heart stopped
by the distance, there was a familiar-looking haired boy with golden eyes and an also familiar black hair and steel blue eyes
oh dear
your emotions went sour but you saw the black and white-haired male laugh and the steel eyed male shake his head in disapproval but had the hint of the smallest smile
they,, were now happy
‘fate, you say’
you mumbled distractedly
‘fate instilled magnets in us so i just cant help but be drawn to ya’
atsumu grinned but you averted your eyes to look at him, a soft and genuinely happy look
‘would those magnets be strong enough to draw us together, even if we were in another life? if we were fated, would we meet again?’
you looked up at him, your eyes still glistening but this time, with the slightest bit of hope
atsumu sent you a confused glance but he still shrugged
‘i guess so, if i’m so drawn to you right now. maybe in our past life we were,,, together?’
he tested out, expecting you to roll your eyes and walk away but you laughed
‘well, i just witnessed it happening so maybe its possible?’
you wondered out loud
atsumu blinked again, getting more and more interested in you
‘chibi-chan?’
he asked you and you jumped slightly to look at him with a smile
‘say, miya-san, what if i told you that i remember my past life? and what would you say if i told you that you were in it?’
you grinned but atsumu scrunched his face together before smiling
‘hmm, i dont know what youre sayin but it proves my point!’
he exclaimed but you cocked an eyebrow, a sad smile resting on your lips
‘now what would you say if i told you that you were my nurse?’
a/n: omg i actually hate how this turned out like bls blast me on this
a/n pt 2: during my break, i actually re-read ‘in another life’ and i wrote this up after i finished it again and can i just say? I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CREDITS TO LITTLELUXRAY ON AO3
a/n pt 3: hewwo im back again and since no one replied with a link, i can,,, guess??,,, that the book is gone??? or taken down?? but anyways, i just really wanted to post something and tbh, stuff like this cant be helped but i really do hope that it’s gone and if its not, dkasjdfkslf again send me the link
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu!! imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu!! headcanons#aoba johsai#aoba johsai x reader#aoba josai x reader#aoba josai#seijoh#aoba johsai imagines#aoba josai imagines#seijoh imagines#seijoh manager#haikyuu manager#haikyuu!! manager#aoba johsai manager#aoba josai manager#seijoh x reader#aoba johsai headcanons#aoba josai headcanons#seijoh headcanons#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!! fluff#aoba johsai fluff#aoba josai fluff#seijoh fluff
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SPN 1x06 “Skin”
Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.
You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.
I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.
Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.
I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.
Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.
DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?
SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.
DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.
SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.
DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.
SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?
DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.
Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.
SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.
DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.
Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.
YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.
Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.
Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.
SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.
DEAN: We could.
REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?
SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)
DEAN: Detective, actually.
I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”
Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.
It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.
SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.
I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.
DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.
When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.
You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?
REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.
Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.
Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.
Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.
And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.
This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.
How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…
I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.
Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.
This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.
ANYWAY
Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!
DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)
I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…
But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.
SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.
Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.
DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.
SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)
Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.
Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.
This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.
Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.
++++
Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.
It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.
SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?
SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)
SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)
SAM: What are you talkin’ about?
SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)
This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.
REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?
SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)
REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)
SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)
It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.
Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.
This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.
Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.
AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!
I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.
How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?
Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.
BUT.
THIS FUCKING SCENE.
I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)
It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders
Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear
Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go
I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary
This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)
The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it
Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.
For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.
And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.
Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?
Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.
Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.
REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)
DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)
SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)
DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)
(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)
DEAN: Ugh, come on.
I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.
One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.
SAM: What are you gonna do to me?
SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.
SAM: They’ll never catch him.
SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)
Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.
Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…
And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????
I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.
At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.
#SPN 1x06#amispnrewatch#reclaiming spn#performing!dean#lawboy#bi!dean#dean x cassie#dean x lee#stiles stilinski#void!stiles#teen wolf#dean deserved better
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Eternal Summer (M)
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Loads of Angst | Fluff mixed in between | Smut | Childhood friends to lovers AU
Warnings: Language | Alcohol | Masturbating | Rough sex | Public sex
Word Count: 39k+ words
Disclaimer/Copyright
Summary:
Breaking up with my boyfriend leaves an empty spot on the overseas vacation that I had been looking forward to for a long time. I’m torn between abandoning the trip or going it solo when someone offers to tag along. However, having Jimin, my best friend go with me may not be the best idea — since my crush on him has never gone away.
Author’s Note:
This is my fic for the ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ writing event hosted by @jamaisjoons with ‘Go sightseeing on a vacation’ as my prompt.
This grin just can’t be wiped off my face. While I’m aware that people passing by me are shooting me weird looks thanks to my humming, I don’t want to stop for their sake. I can barely hold myself from skipping down the street, lined with leafy trees on one side and boutique stores on the other – I’m that excited. The merciless rays of the late sun are welcome on my skin after weeks of slaving away even more than usual at work just so I can enjoy this long awaited vacation. It has completely paid off, since I’ve managed to settle everything I needed to with one day to spare. Everyone – myself included – expected me to be toiling away until the last minute. I even packed my luggage in advance, little by little, whenever I could, since I didn’t think I would have time to do it. So, with everything ready and time to spare, I head towards the only place I could think of going when I don’t know what to do with myself.
After making a stop at Se Hoon’s favourite restaurant to order take-out for dinner, I continue on my way towards his apartment. Since I plan to make this a surprise visit, he might still be working. Still, another glance at my watch convinces me that he will definitely be at home. Se Hoon prefers to work from home, so unless there’s work that he must settle at the office, he’s usually home by this time, even if he has to continue working there. It might mean that I’ll be shooed away while he finishes, but I don’t care. I’m content to just watch him as I eat my dinner. As long as I’m with him. We’ll be going together on vacation the day after tomorrow, but there’s no harm in starting early, is there? Plus, I’ve been too busy to see him lately. And the few scant times I could manage to get some time off, he would be busy instead. It seems like we’ve been missing each other for a while now, and I just miss being with someone.
Another fifteen minutes of walking and an elevator ride to the eighteenth floor later, I arrive in front of Se Hoon’s dark brown apartment door. I hesitate, wondering if I should let myself in or announce myself first. It has been a while since I’ve arrived here on my own, but recalling the times he got grumpy because he was interrupted to open the door for me way in the beginning of our relationship, I pressed the keys to unlock his door. No sense making him stop whatever he’s doing and come for me when I can open the door on my own.
Although I’ve been telling myself that I’m perfectly happy just to be in his presence this evening, my lips purse into a disappointed pout when I notice a pair of unfamiliar women’s black pumps at the entrance. It’s rare for Se Hoon to have visitors to his house, other than myself, but I suppose it’s safe to say that he isn’t done with work. At least his co-worker is willing to come over, so he doesn’t have to stay in the office. Otherwise I’d have arrived at an empty house.
Not wanting to interfere with his work by calling out, I kick off my similar, but lower, heels next to hers and start making my way inside. It has been a while since I’d had time to visit, but the surroundings are pretty much the same as I remember it from last time. Neither of us are the type of people to periodically arrange furniture, or make any changes at all, for that matter. Some people may find it boring, but I’m comfortable in its familiarity.
However, just a few steps in and my eyes land on an unexpected sight. A dark blue tie, adorned with a tiny white diamond pattern, lying on the floor. Se Hoon’s tie. I remember giving it to him for his birthday several months ago. Then a light pink shirt that I don’t recognise – I don’t pride myself on knowing Se Hoon’s wardrobe inside and out, but this shirt is way too small for him. My feet slow to a stop, but my breathing becomes laboured; like I’m running a marathon. Even though I scream in my head in denial, telling myself to turn around and not to continue looking, my eyes betray me by straying ahead, following the trail of clothes into his bedroom.
“Se Hoon?” I call out without thinking, but my voice comes out a croak, volume barely a whisper. The world I thought I had built solidly enough is crumbling under the soles of my feet. Familiar comfort no longer.
“Looks like our plane is here.”
Although my eyes are wide open and the world is bright, blinding even; the light from the sun is relentlessly shining through the gigantic glass panes of the airport, everything looks like a blur to me. I see vague shapes moving inconsequentially in my field of vision, but I can’t make out anything. The world hasn’t righted itself after it got thrown off its axis just yet. I’m dimly aware of where I currently am, of what brought me to this point. And yet in my mind, I’m still frozen in Se Hoon’s apartment two days ago.
While words cannot describe my feelings at the moment, I’m sure whatever combination of letters that the dictionary can come up with won’t be anything good. It doesn’t help that the voice that calls my name repeatedly in attempts to bring me back to reality is noticeably higher than Se Hoon’s. No, it isn’t even that. I wouldn’t be this bothered if it were anyone else’s voice. However, my best friend’s insistence that I return to Earth and get ready to board the plane throws my emotions into a jumbled mess. Forcing myself back to the present time, the surroundings gradually come into focus, like a camera lens finally being adjusted properly. “People are still getting off the plane, Jimin,” I grumble, sinking myself further into the chair in the waiting area petulantly. Maybe I don’t want to board this airplane after all.
This empty feeling has seeped in from yesterday. After a fitful sleep, I’d gotten out of my bed to stare at my luggage, all ready and packed for the next day. I wasn’t sure what time it was then; I’d rolled out of bed onto the floor and turning back to look at the small clock on my nightstand had felt like it would have consumed too much energy. All I knew was that dawn had not even broken yet, as the light blue curtains of my room, so useless at blocking even the smallest bit of light, were still dim. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and started to trace the royal blue strips lining the white canvas, I’d thought about the times I’d chucked the things I wanted to bring into the bag. When I’d seen a shirt that Jimin had said looked good on me, I’d thrown it in there. The cap he’d bought me on a whim after he’d dropped by my office for an impromptu lunch. A pair of socks that Jimin had insisted matched with the pair that he’d bought, just because both pairs have a striped motif. Earrings that he’d helped me choose because Se Hoon couldn’t make it for our date that day. Perhaps he couldn’t make it because of that woman, and not because of work, like he’d claimed.
Hours must have flown by as I’d sat there brooding. Not even sure what I was thinking about – was it really all about Se Hoon? My mind feels empty, but I couldn’t believe that I’d just been blankly staring at the luggage in the corner of my room for so long. And yet I must have had, because when the sound of my vibrating phone grated my ears, making me jump out of my reverie, the room was already bright despite the drawn curtains.
Groaning from grumpiness and the aching of my back and ass from sitting in one spot for so long, I’d braced my right palm on the still-cool floor to twist my body and reach for my phone. “Ugh.” My fingertips had brushed against it, causing it to move forward and teeter off the edge of my nightstand. The next round of vibrations had led to a losing battle with its balance, but thankfully I’d managed to catch it before it made contact with the hard floor. The scramble to play hero to save my phone had left me on both my elbows, horizontal against the floor. By this time, the call had become a missed one. Probably gone to voicemail, but that hadn’t stopped me from glaring at the offending device.
Before I could even look at the screen properly to check who had called, I heard the sharp beeping of my front door lock keypad, quickly followed by the chime indicating a successful breach and the softer click of the door opening to the intruder. Then a call of my name greeted my ears, betraying the identity of the visitor and setting my frayed nerves at ease. In a split second, however, my shock had melted away, leaving mild irritation in its wake. At first I didn’t want to answer him. Let him search the whole place, I’d thought pettily, even while knowing that my bedroom would have been the first place he’d check, then changed my mind. “In here.”
Trust him to hear me even though I’d hardly raised my voice. His chipper, “’Morning!” had reminded me that he didn’t have a clue to what had transpired the previous evening, leaving me torn between two choices; remain in my miserable mood and risk him prying for the reason behind it, or put up a cheerful front. I’m supposed to go for the vacation I’d been looking forward to so much, after all.
In the end, my “’morning,” had come out as a sullen reply. Simply couldn’t be bothered with pretence when this guy was concerned. With my partner for the trip automatically cancelling less than twenty-four hours ago, he was going to unearth the source of my moodiness sooner or later, even if I’d pretended there was nothing wrong.
“What’s wrong?” He’d immediately quipped at my tone, joining me on the floor.
I’d narrowed my eyes at the luggage I’d refused to tear my eyes away from. Still, it was always annoying when Jimin would zero in on me like that.
“Just.”
Jimin had rested his back against the side of the bed next to me, keeping mum instead of answering. I’d always hated that he knew exactly how to handle me at times like these. Several minutes had passed as I’d stewed in silence, then inevitably worked out what I’d wanted to say, like he’d known I would. I’d let one or two more minutes go by, just to spite him, but in the end I’d relented with a resolved sigh.
He’d taken the cue to open his mouth. “Wanna grab brunch?”
Is it that late already? I’d thought, unwillingly softening just a bit more when he didn’t automatically repeat his first question. “Not now.” Holding fast onto my vast – though slowly depleting – reserves of gloominess and fury, I’d willed my stomach not to grumble just then. Under strict orders from my highly distressed brain, my stomach had cowered and obeyed, even as his question had evoked pangs of hunger. Another sigh, then, “I don’t know if I’m going tomorrow,” I finally gave in to the inevitable need to confess, if not my need to eat.
“What? Why?” He’d leaned forward in surprise. I’d wished he hadn’t. Despite not having shed a single tear, I’d had no idea what sort of expression I was making, or whether I had any control over it. Thoughts had been racing through my mind at uncontrollable speeds. Obviously I hadn’t used the time I’d had to think this all the way through. Should I tell him that I’d broken up with Se Hoon?
I hadn’t wanted to.
“Se Hoon has urgent business to attend to and can’t make it.” Ugh. Even uttering his name had made me want to spit and brush my tongue with a scrubber. Bringing my legs up, I’d buried my face in my knees, unable to bear the sight of Jimin’s brows furrowing with concern. Aside from the guilt I’d felt about lying to my best friend, the mix of emotions roiling inside me were – and still is – muddling. There was overwhelming outrage towards Se Hoon, which was not surprising. However, endless hours of pondering had made me realise that the nature of my grief was befuddling.
There had been no tears. Even after the shock of seeing Se Hoon in bed with another woman had worn off as I’d trudged all the way home, walking for about an hour instead of taking the subway, there had been no heartbreak over our failed relationship. When I’d finally reached home and collapsed on my bed, no burning tears had even threatened my eyes. Later in the shower, the only wetness had come from the metal pipes. I didn’t care about losing him. No, I’d thought, with Jimin’s presence solidifying my belief, I’m sad because I’m alone. Even when I was with Jimin – actually, because I was with Jimin – I’d felt so lonely. He made me feel hopeless. He made me feel like a loser. Especially now, I’d felt like I was worth nothing. No, I’d always felt like I was worthless when I was with Se Hoon, or with any of my other exes. That’s why I’ve always chased after a relationship. Because otherwise, I would be worth less than nothing.
It had made me all the more desperate not to let Jimin find out. Better to have him think that Se Hoon was being a jerk – which he was, and still is – by ditching me for work instead of finding out that we’d broken up. Jimin was sure to take great umbrage at Se Hoon – never mind that I was the one who did the dumping – and would definitely demand to know the reason behind it. To tell him that I wasn’t even worth being faithful for… that would just take the ugly, miserable cake that is my life, wouldn’t it? I’d much rather die than come clean, so I’d pressed the truth as deep down as it could go, took a deep breath and turned to rest my chin on my knee, facing that frown painted on his adorably worried features.
“It’s work. You know how it is. Can’t be helped.” Tossed words accompanied by a cavalier shrug; hopefully passing it off as a small matter that I’d wanted it to appear like. There. It gave the impression that I had a responsible boyfriend, and I was being a magnanimous, understanding girlfriend. Plus, this way I could forge ahead with unloading my immediate problem to Jimin without seeming too pathetic. “But I don’t know if I want to go alone.”
“Hey, what’s the point of riding business if you’re going to zone out and queue with the people in economy?” Jimin’s irritated complaint as he swats my arm knocks me back to the present. Still in a daze, I let him grab my hand and pull me up and towards the air stewardess waiting to check the customers’ boarding passes without complaint, only having the presence of mind to hold my camera bag securely against my side. True, I was really torn between going on the trip alone or cancelling it altogether, but when I’d voiced my indecision to Jimin yesterday, I didn’t imagine that it would lead to this.
We zip past the long queue of people waiting to be allowed to board, all the way to the front. The sweet-looking stewardess takes a look at our documents and smiles, complimenting her rosy cheeks, made up carefully to look perfectly natural, ushering us in. As we stride towards the door to the aircraft, I can’t help but look at our connecting hands, then up towards his slender, but comforting back. Never in a million years would I have thought that he would actually offer to accompany me. In all actuality, ‘offer’ is too mild a word for what he did. After calling in to take a week off of work, then buying flight tickets while I’d showered, did he really think he left me with any choice?
He might have been right that not going just because Se Hoon couldn’t make it, after I’d worked my ass off to get a holiday, paid for the tickets and hotel, would be ridiculous. But I maintain that what he did in a span of less than thirty minutes – because it couldn’t have taken longer than that for me to shower – was the more inane of the two.
However, as we step inside the plane itself, past another stewardess welcoming us onto the flight, the reality of this finally starts to sink in. For the first time since I’ve become single, my face relaxes, and I can feel my whole body relaxing with it. While the cause of this current situation is unfortunate, the outcome is quite fortuitous. After settling in my window seat first, I glance towards Jimin, trying to get comfortable in the next seat over. I’m very aware that allowing myself to enjoy this, or even think about this, is idiocy of the highest degree. That it will just bring me more pain down the road. I know. Years of suffering had taught me that really well. Yet still, being the fool that I am, I don’t deny the giddiness of having Jimin come with me, instead of Se Hoon. Not to myself, at least. If it’s going to hurt me either way, might as well milk whatever joy I can get out of it, right? My future self will probably hate my current self later, so I apologise to her in advance in my head.
“Everything okay over there?” Jimin leans over the wide armrest to ask.
“Mm-hmm,” I answer simply, still half-lost in my thoughts. Sometimes I want to roll my eyes and laugh at myself. Whatever am I thinking, while Jimin is just trying to be a good friend? Imagination running wild can inject a really swift and powerful dose of euphoria, and goodness knows that my spirits need a bit of lifting, but prolonged daydreaming will not do anyone any good. Jimin is just a friend. Just a friend. Indulging in idyllic notions will just burn me in the end.
The process of achieving resolution is interrupted when the plane begins to move. It isn’t very obvious at first due to its size, but I notice it backing out into the runway. As it begins to pick up speed, I forget everything else; from depressing thoughts of being single, to silly fantasies. Turning to Jimin, I whisper excitedly; “My favourite part is coming!”
Before I can start to explain what it is, Jimin laughs and nods. “I know.”
Sitting back against the chair, I absorb the fact that Jimin remembers that I’ve told him before. It’s such a random piece of uninteresting information, but I suppose that’s what best friends pick up over the years. I’m sure I subconsciously collect seemingly useless information about him, too. Not wanting to miss it, I don’t comment any further, instead just grinning at him before shifting my attention towards the window. My heart rate picks up as the vehicle accelerates so rapidly that I feel myself getting thrown back into my seat, gaining momentum until it finally lifts itself up into the air. Sighing contentedly, I told Jimin; “It’s such a rush when the plane moves like that. Like our journey is truly starting, and we’re running towards it with all our might.” He just shakes his head with a chuckle at my childish delight. We’re already high enough that the view outside displays the landscape of Seoul city of buildings and cars. On any other day, I’d be down there somewhere. But not today. And while this may not have turned out exactly as I’d expected it to, I have no complaints about the arrangement now.
As though he’d picked up on my uplifted mood, Jimin asks jovially, “So, remind me, why did you choose to go to Malaysia?”
I remember telling him that I was the one who’d picked the holiday destination. This time, it’s not surprising that he remembers; the way my excited gushing about the trip had escalated as it had approached bordered on annoying, even I will admit that. “It’s a multicultural, multi-racial country, so there’s a diverse variety of things to explore,” I begin to explain, sounding like a tourist brochure, pause to consider, then confess. “Actually, we’re going to Penang, which is famous for having the best food.”
Even though his lips curl down, the way Jimin bites his plump lower lip and holds his shuddering body is a tell-tale sign that he’s not frowning; in fact, I know that he’s trying to hold back from laughing out loud. “Why am I not surprised?” Guffaws escape alongside his words, and I smack his shaking arms playfully.
“Shut up.” Although my pretense at affront is a tiny bit better than his attempt to keep a straight face, it’s impossible to hide the mirth dancing in my eyes. With impeccable timing, one of the stewardesses appears by our side to inquire about our choice of lunch. Ever a fan of chicken, I order without hesitation, whereas Jimin chooses pork as his protein.
“Mmm,” – is Jimin’s way of articulating the tastiness of his meal. “What’s the name of the place,” he picks up his boarding pass to sneak a peek at the name of our holiday destination before returning it into his seat pocket, “Penang food better top this.”
Of course, I have never been there, so I can’t guarantee anything. “If their food is that well known around the region, I should think that it’s better than airplane food.”
Both of us know that I’ve made a sound justification, and Jimin doesn’t have any comebacks. The journey grows quiet soon after, my full stomach encouraging my already heavy eyes to shutter closed. Our transfer in Bangkok, Thailand via Suvarnabumi Airport is a short, uneventful one, and from there, it’s a quick flight to our final destination. Watching the evening sky serving as the backdrop for the sun making a dramatic exit for the night is breathtaking. By the time we land, streaks of orange are all that remain of the sun’s waning presence, and a light smattering of stars twinkle, not to be outdone by the numerous city lights.
“So, are we going to take a taxi to the hotel?” Jimin wants to know our next move after retrieving our bags from the baggage claim carousel.
“Yep, but we won’t be using a taxi.” Armed with the WiFi device I’ve rented in advance, I breathe a sigh of relief as my phone connects to the internet successfully. Sometimes I feel a little ashamed by it, but I can’t stop the feeling of unease whenever I’m cut off and unreachable by phone. I keep imagining the worst things happening. “There’s an app people use here to call for a driver instead of using a taxi. It’s cheaper and easy to use.”
“Oooh.” As I open said app, Jimin looks at the screen of my phone over my shoulder curiously. Compared to Incheon and Suvarnabumi Airports, Penang Airport is very small, which I suppose is befitting of the size of the northern island. It makes the place seem especially busy, and we stand slightly away from one of the exits, doing our best to keep out of people’s way. There must be a lot of drivers on the app service, because one immediately takes our request. Ride secured, we make our way out of the building, looking out for a white car with the specified plate number.
Soon our luggage is secured in the trunk of the car, and we speed away from the airport. From the handy app, I find out that our tanned driver is a man named Hisyam. His fatherly manner and gentle way of speaking reinforces my instinct that he seems to be in his late forties or early fifties, a deduction I’d made upon seeing him. Our friendly responses when he’d initiated the standard questioning – where we’re from, and our purpose of coming here – encourage him to strike up further conversation. From my simple research about Malaysia before coming here, I know that being able to converse in English is enough to communicate with the locals, but I didn’t think that it would go so smoothly. I’d thought that it would be only mostly youngsters who are able to speak fluently in English, but despite his age, Hisyam sounds comfortable talking to us in the language. A comment on this from me has him explaining that many Malaysians can speak English well enough to be understood at the very least, which is a relief. It’s nice to feel so welcomed, especially since he has an eager and easy answer when I wonder where we should get our dinner aloud. “There’s a place that’s famous for its char kuey teow that’s not far from here. You have to try it!”
“Char kuey teow?” Jimin hasn’t eaten anything after our lunch on the flight earlier, and the mention of food, however foreign, quickly piques his interest.
“It’s stir-fried noodle,” he explains. “But the noodles are flat and made of rice. It’s a really popular dish around this region. I’ll drive you there first, if you want.”
Sneaking a glance at Jimin, I can see that he is also in favour of this. “Is that okay, though? Do we need to call another driver after we’re done?”
“I’ll just take some other requests until you’re done, then I’ll come back for you. There’s always people calling for service in this area,” he assures us. “This shop’s reputation is rightly deserved, I promise. So, don’t worry about me and enjoy yourselves!”
Good thing Jimin and I are able to decide on taking Hisyam up on his offer so quickly, because he really isn’t kidding – the restaurant is a mere few turns after that. It’s a place next to the large road, with most of the dining tables spread over an open space past the low fence enclosing the area of the restaurant. I suppose the cooking is done within the small building to the side of the restaurant. The tables and chairs are purposeful rather than decorative, but I know that sometimes a simple, humble place can serve better food than fancy ones. With Hisyam’s phone number saved inside my phone, Jimin and I take a seat at a table in the middle of the place. It has barely gotten dark, but more than half of the tables are already occupied by people who look to be locals. A good sign.
Thankfully the restaurant is well-staffed, and in less than five minutes, we’ve gotten our order in. “Smells good,” Jimin comments hungrily, eyeing the plates on the tables around us. I grin and stop myself from teasing him with the old ‘I told you so’ before I actually try the food. It arrives quickly, although I’m not sure if it’s soon enough for Jimin, who starts to dig in without even waiting for me. “Mmm!” His smiley eyes widen, with an extra twinkle as he swallows the char kuey teow.
If my reaction upon tasting it didn’t mirror his so much, I would have laughed at him. However, our driver’s recommendation has given us a great start to our trip – the char kuey teow tastes much better than I expected. Strips of rice noodles that look like a very thick piece of paper that had gone through a coarse shredder are coated with sauce. This dark sauce isn’t paste-like, yet not runny, either. It’s rich; probably infused with the flavours of the prawns and cockles that accompany the dish. The noodles slide down my throat easily, but chives and bean sprouts mixed in provides a contrasting, crunchy texture.
Our silence during the meal says everything about it. Neither of us are interested in talking; we’re too busy enjoying the food. Only after I finish the last bite do I come up for air to confirm what I already know. “How was it?” But Jimin can’t hear me with his body twisted away in his plastic chair. Even if he could, he’s too concentrated in his effort to attract the attention of one of the waitresses to pay me any heed.
Once the young girl has acknowledged Jimin’s call, he turns back to me. “I’m ordering another one. Do you want anything?”
Looks like Jimin had definitely enjoyed his meal. I did too, but my appetite is nowhere as big as his, so I add another order of milk tea to drink while I wait for him to finish his second plate. Less than half an hour later, we’re back with Hisyam, who is happy that his suggestion is getting rave reviews. “Your hotel is in the center of Georgetown, so it will take about thirty minutes to get there,” he informs us, explaining that Georgetown is in the northern part of the island, while the airport is somewhere down south. The three-story building that he points out sits at the end of the block, and he turns from the main road into a smaller one to let us off. He looks at the hotel in approval. “You chose a good place to stay,” he comments. “The last tourist couple I drove booked a famous hotel, but they didn’t know that it’s known for being haunted.” The corners of his lips twitch while his eyebrows scrunch in the middle, as if he still isn’t sure whether to laugh or sympathise with the poor people’s misfortune. “It broke my heart to tell them.”
“Oooooh, which hotel is it?” Pretty sure that I didn’t come across this morsel of information when I was searching for hotels to stay in, I wanted to know. However, Jimin protests, saying that he’d like to get some sleep tonight. He’s already going to sleep in an unfamiliar bed, and hearing a ghost story just before that is not going to help him sleep easier. Hisyam and I whisper conspiratorially, arranging for a private story time via message while Jimin unloads our bags from the trunk of the car.
Unfortunately for Jimin, this isn’t going to be our first disagreement for tonight. Not ten minutes later we’re standing at the front desk, arguing over sleeping arrangements while the staff looks on patiently. “I should get my own room,” Jimin insists again, his tone riding the line between firm and incredulous at my disagreement.
“Why should we?” This is not the first time I’ve said these words in the last few minutes either, but I’m unwilling to back down. “The room is huge, and,” grabbing his arm to turn him away from the listening employee, “it’s really expensive.”
“I just won’t take a suite, then,” Jimin says with finality, accompanied by an eye roll.
Truly upset now, I let my lower lip jut out in an infuriated pout. “Even a normal room is expensive, and our rooms won’t be close to each other’s, then,” I inform him. “Is sharing a room with me really that bad? I thought it would be fun. Plus, I already feel bad enough for making you come here with me without having you spend even more.” Even though I know that Jimin can easily afford whichever room he wants, even the suite that Se Hoon and I had decided to splurge on to enjoy together, I’m not exactly sure why I want Jimin to share a room with me so much. The reasoning that I’ve given him are all true. Having him spend so much money, on top of messing up his work schedule to go on an impromptu trip with me makes me feel really guilty, even if he’d done it on his own accord. I just hope that’s the main reason I’m so adamant that we share the suite, more so than the fear of having my crippling insecurity issues creeping up on me alone in the room I was supposed to share with Se Hoon.
Since Jimin and I have had sleepovers when we were kids and had even shared a tent when we went camping with friends in high school, I didn’t think he would mind. So when he’d neglected to ask which hotel we would be staying in, I didn’t bother to book another room. In hindsight, perhaps it was just an oversight on his part. He did only have less than twenty-four hours to prepare to go overseas, after all. However, if he’s this against sharing a room with me, perhaps he does feel uncomfortable about it. Sighing, I decide internally that forcing him to share when he isn’t willing would eat at my conscience even more, so I face the staff again as my hand reaches inside my bag, rummaging for my purse. “Could you give us another room? As close to mine as possible, please.”
“Fine, fine, let’s share.” This isn’t the effect that I had intended – I’m fully prepared to pay for his room – but surprisingly, this made him finally give in. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I minded.” Now that Jimin has agreed, I find myself at odds, feeling like I’d coerced him into saying yes. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I could just get another room if you really don’t want to share.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t meet my eyes. “Nah, I just thought you’d feel awkward since you’re supposed to be here with Se Hoon. Are you sure he won’t mind?”
Oh. So that’s why Jimin had put up such a fight. The realisation makes me feel a little disappointed. I guess I’m a fool for expecting something else. Jimin had never been attracted to me, after all. Why would he care about sharing a room, other than concern over causing trouble in my relationship? If only he knew that he’s worrying about a nonexistent problem. “I’m sure. No worries.” Funnily enough, Se Hoon had been the one sharing his bed with another woman while we were still a couple, not me.
“I guess he thinks I’m a robot, too.”
“What?” I’m in the middle of confirming with the now-thoroughly-confused man at the front desk that we’re definitely not adding any extra rooms to our booking, so I’m not sure if I heard Jimin’s mumblings right.
“Nothing.” He dismisses me, taking our luggage and wheeling them towards the lift, leaving me behind to take the room key.
“Hey, wait! Oi!”
“Here are your room keys,” the young man at the front desk calls for my attention, and I turn around to take the two sets of cards from him. His, “I hope you enjoy your trip,” sounds more heartfelt rather than obligatory, sending embarrassed heat to my face. He’d obviously gathered that things are not hunky-dory between his guests… wait, he probably thinks we’re a bickering couple. At first I open my mouth, automatically about to launch into my go-to explanation that we’re friends, not a couple like I usually do back home, then I close it. There’s no longer a boyfriend who might find out that someone thinks that Jimin and I are in a relationship, and Jimin, that jerk, went ahead without me so he didn’t hear it. What’s the point of clarifying such a trivial thing to a stranger in a foreign land that I probably won’t ever see again anyway?
“Thanks.” Still slightly sheepish over our argument in front of the man, I quickly scatter away towards the lift. “Thanks for waiting,” I repeat the sentiment – but this time in a very different intonation that borders on the churlish – towards Jimin when I reach his side.
“Mm.” His non-committal reply doesn’t indicate whether he missed the sarcasm in my greeting or heard but doesn’t care to respond. It does nothing to improve my mood. I narrow my eyes at him, but he carefully avoids my glare, instead pressing the button to summon the lift, then keeping his gaze locked on the red digits changing from 2 to G. His reaction jolts me away from the displeasure I’d felt when he’d left the counter without me, back to the root of our argument. Uncertainty and guilt replace my ebbing anger.
“Sorry that you had to come all the way here to keep me company,” I begin my apology by addressing the sacrifice he’d made for me. “If it really bothers you, I don’t mind taking two rooms. I’ll pay for it. It’s the least I can do, after all.”
The lift doors open just then, and Jimin goes in without acknowledging my words, dragging both our luggage with him. I follow in and press the first-floor button. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not about to push it any further. I’ve said my piece. Of course, I’m still upset, but Jimin can be scary when he’s truly angry, and I’m not in the mood to deal with that right now. Not that I ever actually want to take on an incensed Jimin. But then, the lift has barely moved when he shifts to face me, his features not quite frowning, but nowhere near friendly, either. “Do you really not care about sharing a room with me? Se Hoon as well?”
“Yes, really.” Well, I really prefer it that way. Se Hoon doesn’t have a say in it, but there’s no reason to tell Jimin that. “No sense wasting money on another room when we’ll only use it to sleep, anyway.”
“You booked an expensive suite in a nice hotel just to sleep?” If I were still with Se Hoon, Jimin’s pointed question would have made me blush. However, all it made me think about is how Se Hoon fucked another woman two days before our vacation. There’s no doubt that there were other incidents before that that I’m not privy to. My blood boils at the thought.
“Well, right now I’d rather get herpes than touch him.” I reply acidly. Jimin might have done a lot for me, especially since I broke up with Se Hoon, but there’s just so much my self-beating, bruised heart can take. This time Jimin is the one doing the following, walking just behind me down the corridor until we reach the door to the suite. Holding the key cards up, I ask him one last time, “Are you sure about this? There’s still a chance to get another room.”
“No need, since you’re so sure,” his reply is slightly curt, but has lost most of the venom. I belatedly realise that he thinks I’m furious with Se Hoon for bailing out because of work, which must have had him softening towards me again. In reality, I’m far more pitiful than that, but I’ll take what I can get. Under his breath, Jimin mumbles again, “I’ll be sure to conduct myself like the saint you both think I am.”
The light musical notes of the door unlocking mask Jimin’s murmuring, so I only register his earlier response, taking it as a reconciliation. Opening the heavy wooden door, I fumble the adjacent wall for a switch, and upon turning it on, white light bathes the space to reward us with a very welcome sight. The entrance stretches and opens up to a spacious living room, decorated with black wooden furniture enhanced by splashes of red – small red cushions and red drawers. Simple white walls provide a nice contrast to the beautiful dark, polished timber floor. While I was looking for a place to stay while we’re here, I had seen some photos of the room, but seeing it in front of my own eyes is just breathtaking. From behind me, the sound of Jimin’s long inhale is audible as he takes it all in with completely fresh eyes.
Excited, I bounce further in towards the bedroom. On my left is a wooden door matching the ones I’ve walked through so far. The walls sandwiching it are also wooden with carvings, but the whole expanse is covered with glass. A peek through it reveals the bathroom, complete with a jacuzzi tub that had been promised in the hotel website in addition to a shower cubicle. The bedroom itself is as beautifully decorated as the living room. Majestic four-poster king-sized bed dominates the center of the room, matching the ornate tables and wardrobe well. Sliding glass doors lead to the balcony, and a large stained-glass window on the other side of the bathroom facing the bed completes the luxurious room.
“I’d be happy to just hang out here until the end of the trip,” Jimin comments in awe as he enters the room.
“I know,” I agree breathily, then compose myself before sending him a firm look. “But there’s food to be eaten.”
My honest statement invokes a helpless laughter from Jimin. “You’re not even pretending that you want to see the sights!” Just like that, all the animosity from before melts away completely. Jimin’s giggles must be infused with magic, drawing out a grin from me effortlessly every single time.
Finally, we collapse on the bed – Jimin resting completely on the left side of the bed, while I lay down partially on the side closest to the balcony with my lower legs dangling over the foot of the bed. If I let myself lay down properly, I know that it’s just a matter of time before I’m knocked out cold from the exhaustion of the journey. A bath in the tub sounds really nice, but it’s too much of a hassle for me now. I just want to sleep; but not with the day’s journey sticking to my body. After some time resting my tired muscles, I let out a loud groan and pull myself up. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
“Mm.” From the way Jimin lazily acknowledges my announcement, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already sleep-talking.
“Do you want to take one too, or are you just going to stink up the bed the whole night?” Poking the sole of his right foot sharply with my finger, I try to verify this with him before I lose him to sleep completely.
“Mmph.” This time he rubs his face against his pillow, perhaps in an attempt to give a more intelligible answer that fails. Opening up his eyes a crack, he asks, “Together?”
I’m not sure if he’s really lucid or not. But I refuse to let him – and myself – entertain the idea for even one minute. My honest answer isn’t good for the health of both my mental state and our friendship. “I’ll wake you up once I’m done.” Jimin responds with another vague hum that I take as a ‘yes’.
Just a little over twelve hours later, I’m sorely wishing for a nice soak in the jacuzzi tub, followed by a nice afternoon just chilling in the hotel room being blasted by the air conditioner. Jimin echoes my innermost thoughts, as if he can read them; “I swear I must have sweat out all the water in my body,” he complains. “Why did you choose such a hot place to go for a holiday? Don’t people run to cool places in the summer?”
“I think it’s the opposite,” I muse out loud. “People go to hot places to escape the bitter winter.” Right now, the freezing winter sounds good to me. It’s slightly past noon and the sun, which has been slowly creeping up on us since about an hour ago, has become downright menacing. Mentally I congratulate myself on forcing an early start this morning, despite both of us being too lazy to get up several hours earlier. The sky had just been kissed by the sun when we set out from the hotel, using the app to get another driver to bring us to Beach Street.
Despite the name, the street is a few blocks away from the jetty. We started our Penang street art hunt here. The UNESCO World Heritage Site is home to numerous street arts, painted by international and local artists. From what I’ve read, there are some very popular pieces that still survive thanks to restoration, but the art scene changes frequently as the old murals fade with time and new ones take the spotlight. Thankfully, the ones I’ve really taken a liking to haven’t disappeared. An early start gives us some advantages – not having to compete with other people for photos, and most importantly, cool weather for a pleasant walk.
Trusty digital SLR in hand, Jimin and I enjoyed searching for the murals, snapping pictures with them as trophies. To my delight – and Jimin’s amusement – many of these artworks on the wall are interactive. The bicycle that a pair of painted siblings ride on is an actual bicycle that you can sit on, similar to the swings a bit of distance away. Jimin declared that the painting of a realistic little boy walking a very-cartoonish dinosaur as his favourite, until he finds out that the artist, Ernest Zacharevic later made a series of paintings he called the ‘101 Lost Kittens’ project. Whilst indulging him in his renewed vigour to find all the lost cats, I noticed that the street art isn’t all that the capital of the island, George Town, has to offer. Narrow streets snake around terraced store fronts and as the morning aged, some of them started to open. Most of them look old, but many retain an interesting charm unique to each one, be it tiles with beautiful patterns covering the doorstep of the store, or windows and doors carved in cultural patterns that hide a rich history that I’m not privy to.
Dotted between these cramped stores are various eateries, cafes, bakeries and bars, many whimsically decorated, just waiting to surprise us as if saying ‘peek-a-boo’! It wasn't long before our stomachs were rumbling, and we chose our breakfast stop. We managed to get roti canai, a flatbread eaten with curry, which was one of my goals for this trip. Jimin tsk-tsked upon hearing that my goals are food instead of attractions, but even he was mesmerised by the sight of the cook twirling the bread dough expertly in the air. “Okay, this is good,” he relents after taking a bite of the savoury bread.
After filling ourselves up, we resume the search for Jimin’s kittens, but I don’t think we managed to get even halfway before we’re reminded that Malaysia is a country that has sunny and rainy days instead of four seasons. And today is definitely sunny. My trusty cap might be protecting my face, but it’s not doing much against the unforgiving heat. “Korea isn’t this hot, even in the summer,” Jimin insists.
“It’s more humid here,” I explain as my eyes rove about the walls, looking for cat paintings. The grey cat surrounded by red fortune cats has been my favourite so far, but Jimin got more excited about the giant depiction of Skippy, the orange cat.
“How come real cats don’t come in this size?” One would think that Jimin’s wish was an adorable one, but I imagined if it came true, and was horrified at the thought.
“They would eat us whole!” Terrified, I eyed the painting up and down, trying to gauge its size. It must be twice as tall as I am. “It would be worse than a tiger!”
Jimin had laughed at my seriousness, but it isn’t long before I’m ready to call it quits, and he’s right behind me. “Summers are probably more bearable in Korea because we’re in the air conditioning most of the time, while we’ve been out in the sun all morning here.” As if granting my wish, I spy blinds hung over a shop with white lettering written across it. A peek underneath tells me that this is probably a café, since I see wooden stools and tables taking up the storefront space. Without hesitation, I grab Jimin’s arm and lead him towards it. I don’t know what sort of store it is, but I know I could use some shade right now.
It turns out that it really is a café, thankfully. Jimin doesn’t need much persuading to agree on grabbing a bite to eat; it’s lunchtime anyway. We snap up some seats inside, where the air conditioning graces us with its mercy. The menu quickly tells us that this place specialises in bagels. Our bagels are perfectly toasty and crunchy after being reheated over a wood fire in an oven, and I take complete delight in the sour kiwi slices coated in honey topping yogurt in an adorable glass jar. Since I don’t eat as much as Jimin, I opt for a lighter salmon and cream cheese bagel. Although I’m doubtful of the bagel’s ability to satisfy Jimin’s appetite, he insists that the bacon and egg served with his bagel is enough to tide him over.
As Jimin inhales his food, then orders more after giving me a sheepish shrug, my attention keeps straying to one corner of the eatery where I watch a group of young girls snapping pictures amidst raucous laughter. Grabbing the opportunity to catch Jimin’s attention when he looks up from his plate, I gesture towards the corner with my chin. “Look, look. We have to take a picture there.”
By the time we’re done, the girls have gone, so I pick up a piece of white chalk on a nearby table to write on the small chalkboard they’d left behind. “Name… Park Jimin.” The texture of the chalk isn’t pleasant to my skin, but I ignore it to fill in Jimin’s height and the date, chuckling when I think about what to write in the last space. “Charge… laughing too much.”
“What?” My best friend states his incredulity as he lets loose the same charming laughter that I’m charging him with. “Laughter brings joy to the world! How could that be a crime?”
“Shh,” I ignore his weak protests, shoving the board into his hands and nudging him against the wall. He guffaws as I lift up my camera and snap pictures of him against a lineup board to take his mugshot. He then declares that he’s good to go for another search for the lost kitties. But it has been a long day, and with our energy already been sapped by yesterday’s journey, the afternoon is spent in more leisurely walks instead, with Jimin quietly indulging my sweet tooth by popping into trendy and yummy cafes instead of religiously keeping an eye out for more murals. I silently appreciate his thoughtfulness but don’t comment on it, knowing that it’ll give him a golden opportunity to tease me for eating so many sweets. Of course, it might just be him wanting to escape the heat without admitting it, even though the sun’s power seems to have diminished as it slips to the west. Yeah, that must be it, I think to myself, refusing to read more into it.
We’ve just exited another café, the bitter taste of coffee tampered by milk and sugar still lingering on our tongues, when Jimin points out something unfamiliar on the road. “Look, what’s that?” It’s a small cart, just big enough so that two people can sit on the seat underneath a grey shade. Behind it is a bicycle with one wheel, attached to the cart to drive the small cart with two more wheels on its side – like a tricycle – forward. I’ve never seen one in Korea, but I do know that this is a mode of transport in several Asian countries.
“It’s a rickshaw,” I tell him, miraculously pulling the name from my memory.
“Huh.” Jimin eyes it with interest. It doesn’t take a genius to see where this is going. “Wanna try riding it?”
At this point, we don’t even know where we are. It has thankfully cooled down now that it’s late afternoon, but my feet are weary from walking so much. Still… My eyes move from the empty cart, where the two of us can sit comfortably and give our feet much needed rest, towards the back, where the driver is sitting. “It would be nice to support his livelihood, but I’d feel bad asking him to bring us around.” I turn to Jimin, unthinkingly placing my heart in my eyes as I entreat him to reconsider.
Taking in the thin, old man resting his forearms on the bicycle handles as he waits for the traffic light to change, Jimin nods his agreement. “You’re right, I can’t in good conscience hire a man at least twice my age to do that.”
So it’s with mixed feelings that I open the map on my phone to determine where we are. When the phone loads, I sigh with relief. We’ve somehow walked all over Georgetown to end up almost next to our next destination, Chowrasta Market, which is in turn a mere 5-minute walk from our hotel. The large three-storey building looks ordinary from afar, but when we get closer, my eyes widen at the selection of goods in the shops on the ground floor. “Oooh.” Lines and lines of pickled fruits and local titbits remind me of some of the stalls in Korean markets. The vibrant colours of the pickled fruits match the packaging of the snacks, making me go crazy trying to decide what to buy.
Sensing that a lot of time is about to be spent choosing snacks, followed by a lot of money traded, leading to him carrying a lot of things, Jimin interjects. “Why don’t we check out the other floors first? That way we don’t have to carry our purchases everywhere.”
“Okay,” I agree readily, but also absent-mindedly, and he has to take me by the hand to lead me further in towards the escalator. The first floor of the market is nowhere near as exciting as the ground floor to me at first glance. There are some clothing stores, which don’t manage to catch mine or Jimin’s interest. However, as we walk towards the back of the building, a familiar musty smell greets my nose, putting me on alert. Even as we walk in its direction, I start to lean forward, trying to get a good look as soon as I can. “Are those… books?”
They really are. Several tiny stores filled to the brim with second-hand books – so many that we can barely walk between the shelves. Some people may find the air stale and stuffy, but I see it as staunch, ancient guardians protecting hidden treasures. And some of the books are real treasures; with the help of the shopkeepers, we unearth books in every topic under the sun, some of them a little worse for wear, but the newer releases – like the Harry Potter series – look practically brand new. I don’t find any books in Korean, which isn’t surprising, but I do discover a first edition of a title in the Lord of the Rings series. It isn’t in the best condition, sadly, but it makes me wonder what else I could find had I had the time to thoroughly comb the enormous collection of books. We barely made a scratch before Jimin cautions me against bringing home too many things.
Since I know I won’t be able to decide which book to buy, I decide to not get anything. Pangs of regret echo silently within me as we leave, but then I remember that a plethora of food stalls are supposed to line the few streets next to the market. Picking myself up, I grab Jimin’s arms with an excited grin. “Hey, why don’t we walk a bit more to the food stalls?”
“More walking?” Jimin despairs at the thought.
“It’s just a block or two from here.” As we go down the escalator, I pull him towards the exit by his arm, boding no arguments.
“What about the snacks you wanted to buy?” Digging his heels in, Jimin gestures towards the goods in the small shops we’re passing by, desperately attempting to keep further steps at a minimum.
Sadly for him, I already have a plan of action in mind, and there’s nothing he can do to dissuade me. Shaking my head, I explain to him the logical steps that we should take. “We’ll be passing by this place again on our way back to the hotel. We can buy them then.” As an answer to Jimin’s subsequent whine of protest, I tell him, “Shopping on an empty stomach will make you buy more than you should. So we need to get some sustenance before we buy these.”
Jimin may be following my lead out of the market and opposite the direction we came from prior to arriving at the market, but his mouth isn’t about to admit defeat so easily. “How can your stomach still be empty after eating so many sweets??”
It doesn’t alleviate his disbelief when he’s informed that I’m looking for one stall in particular – a famous cendol stall. When his question of “What is that?” is met with my answer of “It’s a local dessert,” he scoffs in incredulity.
However, as soon as we cross to the next block, both Jimin and I are easily distracted by the shops lining the ground floor. At first the t-shirts with Penang’s attractions, including the murals printed on them as well as the colourful clothes draw our attention. As I start to thumb through some trousers with unusual prints hanging on a rack, Jimin ventures inside the shop then quickly calls me over. I suppress a groan. The shops, with their open fronts, are not air-conditioned, and while the temperature has become much more bearable now that the sun is starting to set, I’d rather stay where the wind isn’t just coming from the fans affixed to the walls. But it is worth it. Even though it’s just your typical souvenir – magnets, miniatures of the country’s famous buildings, and other memorabilia – for me it shows what the country’s people are most proud of. An insight to the people’s minds.
There are also bags and purses of different sizes, some bearing similar patterns to the clothes, while some are woven. “Is this what you want, of all things?” Having Jimin’s heavy arm suddenly drop around my shoulder as I examine a beige bag with red square markings makes me grunt and sag a little.
“What’s wrong with wanting this?” To be honest, I don’t actually plan to buy it, but now I’m tempted to, just to be contrary. Jimin really brings out the childish part of me sometimes; a side that I feel is too immature to show others. My head swivels around to stick my tongue out at him for good measure, but then I notice how close his face is to mine. I can just move my head forward a little and kiss him. Alarmed that this thought is the first that comes to mind, I look back down at the bag so quickly I get whiplash.
Jimin doesn’t seem to notice my reaction to his extremely close proximity, because I can feel him shrug nonchalantly at my verbal response. “Mmm, well, if you like it that much, I won’t stop you.” He ruffles my hair affectionately, earning an angrier “Hey!” than I would have normally given him had I not been so flustered, before I saunter back towards the entrance of the shop, right towards the pants that I’d been browsing when he first called me in.
Sensing a possible sale, or, in hindsight, an opportunity to play the responsible cupid, the shopkeeper who has been watching our shenanigans quietly all this while sidles up to me. “That is a good choice, miss. You should ask your boyfriend to buy it for you.” The woman is very young; probably a few years younger than I am, and her speech sounds a little different than Hisyam’s. I sense that she isn’t as fluent as our driver the night before. However, I can understand her perfectly well, and that’s all that matters.
Or perhaps it would have been better if I couldn’t catch her words, because they made me even more agitated. But before I can tell her that Jimin and I are not a couple, she grins brightly and takes my hand in hers, pressing something small into it. “Here, I’ll give you this. Stay safe!”
Curious, I open my hand to see what she has given me accompanied by that suspicious, conspiratorial look. Eyes widening with surprise and hackles raised, I panic; “No no! You–“
“What’s going on?” Jimin walks over, making me shriek in horror and push the condom back into the shopkeeper’s hands then cover them with the bag I’m holding. I’m not sure why I’m so perturbed. It’s not as if I’m the one suggesting that Jimin and I have sex, but damn it, I want to. And I’m deathly afraid that my best friend would somehow figure out my secret, inappropriate desire.
But of course, my startled and over the top reaction only serves to drum up Jimin’s interest. “What are you hiding there?” It isn’t difficult for him to push my hands – and the bag, my only saving grace – away and uncover the little ‘gift’ that the owner thought she’d thoughtfully given to me. What is up with her, anyway?! I thought this is a conservative country! Looking back towards the winking shopkeeper, I decided that she must be a really forward woman, or a foreigner, despite not knowing enough to tell. Either way, the cat’s out of the bag now that Jimin has seen it. Blinking several times blankly at the small packet, Jimin then looks quizzically at me, cocking an eyebrow.
“Oh God.” My mortified groan is muffled by the bag that I’d stuffed my head into, unable to bear the embarrassment.
Needless to say, we don’t buy anything from the shop. The steps we take forward are sluggish and unsteady, just like my emotions. Although Jimin had laughed it off as he’d simply told the shopkeeper that we’re all good the whole time he’d dragged me out of the small shop, his silence now clues me in on the awkwardness that he’s feeling, too. After the row we’d had the night before, I really don’t want this to go on. Must keep my feelings hidden. How hard can it be, right? I’ve done it all these years. No one had ever questioned my friendship with Jimin, so it must have looked easy on the outside. I hope no one would ever find out how torn and beat up I am on the inside.
“Sorry about that,” I broach the incident carefully, wanting to put it behind us instead of making it worse. “She suddenly shoved the… it into my hand.”
“Ah, no worries.” Scratching his head like it doesn’t matter to him, Jimin smiles, but he doesn’t quite look me in the eye. “She must have been desperate to make a sale.”
“That must have been the weirdest tactic I’ve ever seen.” I roll my eyes with a chuckle. Good. This may have started out forced, but it’s sounding more natural to my ears now. Just ignore that the woman had thought that Jimin and I are a couple, and more importantly, how much I want it to be true. We’re really close friends, it’s normal that strangers would think that we’re more than that. Just laugh it off and things will go back to normal. They always do.
Shrugging, Jimin tries to give her some credit. “At least it’s a fresh approach!”
I start to shake my head, but we reach the other end of the building, greeted by the sight of a long line running along the side of the next block, starting at a small, humble stall. “There it is!” I exclaim in excitement, recognising it instantly from the photos I’ve seen online. Jimin’s grunt when I grab his arm to join the line goes ignored, but he doesn’t complain once we’re there, even though I can’t even see the stall from where we’re standing.
Thankfully, the line moves up pretty rapidly. Once we approach the stall, we see why; the green droplet jellies and red beans are already laid out and ready to be scooped into the small bowl with the white coconut milk and brown syrup. The only wait time is caused by the man making shaved ice from the initial blocks with a green machine that takes up almost half their workspace. There isn’t much allowance for chairs and tables by the roadside, so after paying, Jimin and I join the other customers in standing while downing our sweet treat.
“This is sooooo good.” My compliment is backed up by my tilting the remnants of the bowl into my mouth.
“Want to get one more?” Jimin says gamely, and I grin at the offer. Obviously he’d enjoyed it as well, but I shake my head.
“I’d love to, but there are more treats for us to try,” I explain, motioning with my chin away from the direction of the cendol queue. Sure enough, just walking down the road has us stopping every hundred meters or so to check out what this stall or that restaurant had to offer. And not just the local cuisine either! We even come across a Harry Potter café that serves more than just Butterbeer. Penangites sure love their trendy cafes.
It isn’t surprising to hear a local complain over the prices of some of these delectable goodies though. “This much for sotong kangkong?!” A woman about my age gasps after paying the waitress for two plates of some squid dish. I simply listen to her talk to her friends one table away as we skewer our own squid and water spinach, enriched by the dark, savoury sauce that has my taste buds dancing with joy.
Jimin, who is eavesdropping on their conversation too, remarks amusedly, “Looks like we got conned.”
“Not surprising. This place is well known after all. I’m sure they marked up the price since tourists come here a lot,” I muse, unbothered but interested. “It would be nice to have a local show us the good and cheap places. I’m sure there are many that are unknown to us tourists.”
“Hmm,” Jimin hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything else. For a few moments, I watch him in silence, waiting for him to express his train of thought out loud, but he doesn’t continue. By the time we start making our way back to the hotel, we’re so full that the walk is more than welcome. Not as welcome as the stop we make at the Chowrasta Market to buy some snacks – for souvenirs, but I admit to Jimin honestly that I can’t promise that at least half of them might be gone by the time we’re going back to Korea.
The food coma that we fall victim to continues into the late morning the next day, but it’s very well worth it. Both of us sleep so soundly that even the blazing glare of the sun can only make me moan tiredly, trying to shuffle into a better position to continue my slumber. Which is when I come to a realisation that jolts me wide awake.
Jimin’s arms and legs are wrapped around me.
No wonder I feel so snug and warm. It isn’t just all the food breaking down in my stomach. Jimin has hugged me on countless occasions before, but this feels different. More like what a couple would do, while I’ve always thought of our hugs as friendly. Or perhaps I force myself to think that way. I would use all my willpower to make myself pretend that this is the same as well, just for self-preservation. He’s just cuddling me in his sleep after all. It’s not like it’s intentional. Right?
I might have convinced myself, if I didn’t feel a definite, insistent hardness pressing against my butt. Yes, even that is unintentional I’m sure, but my dumb body can’t help reacting to it. Closing my eyes, I stifle another moan – not a sleepy one this time – as I feel how wet I’ve already become in reaction to him.
Against my better judgement, I arch my back, leaning forward and shuffling as subtly as I can into a better position. Tingles that spark like tiny electric shocks when my covered slit comes into contact with Jimin’s clothed morning wood has me stifling a wanton sound of pleasure. I’m not sure if he’s fully hard, but he feels like a good size. Any size would be good, as long as it’s Jimin. My hips rock back and forth, years of depravity leaving me utterly shameless. Unthinking about how wrong it is to take advantage of my unassuming best friend while he’s asleep.
My right hand dives down past the waistband of my shorts and into my panties, seeking the nub that would multiply the pleasure. “Hnn,” I bite my lower lip in an attempt to stop any further sounds from spilling past, while letting my eyelids flutter shut. The better to enjoy this — it is no longer a fantasy I indulge myself in when I’m pleasuring myself. If only I could have more. Deft fingers toy with my clit as I rub my pussy faster against Jimin’s cock. It’s undoubtedly growing bigger. It almost feels like it wants to pierce through the fabric separating us. Even though I’m really just dry humping him, moving by myself, it already feels incredible. What I wouldn’t give to have it inside me, giving my weeping pussy just what it’s craving. If only these fingers were his; flicking the stiffened bud while whispering in my ear, telling me to come for him...
As if answering my obscene prayers, a deep groan from behind startles me into a frozen statue. Belatedly realising the gravity of my actions, I yank my arm up and out of my shorts. Shit, what the hell am I doing??? However, taking a look at my hand; fingers soaked with my arousal, flowing all the way to my wrist, I have to gulp down another wave of desire. No, this is just too risky.
Heart beating deafeningly in my chest, I stay deathly still for a minute or two, hoping that Jimin hasn’t awoken and realised what I was up to. If he has, I don’t even know how to explain myself to him. Hell, I don’t even know how to explain myself to myself. Thankfully, he seems to be in a deep sleep. Even luckier for me, he just loosens his hold on me, turning onto his back with a deep sigh. Like a rabbit sprung free from a trap, I scoot out of the bed as fast as I can without waking him up. Once I climb off the bed, I spin around to look at him, making sure that he really is asleep. His face is positively angelic in his slumber. It would be painful for me to look at it if it wasn’t such a contrast to the tent that his hard-on is making out of the pristine white sheets. Sheets that would no longer remain unsoiled if only he had any interest in having his way with me. They would turn near transparent – if I’m already this wet from brushing against him and touching myself, what state would I be in if Jimin is the one touching me? If he’s the one rubbing against my clit frantically? If there was nothing separating us, if he’s actually inside me, stroking my inner walls with his hard cock? The beddings will be soaked through.
These traitorous thoughts make me whine out loud without thinking. The way I’m looking at him now is no way someone would look at a best friend. No; as much as I’ve convinced myself that I’ve been keeping my emotions in check, I haven’t been looking at Jimin as just a friend for a very long time.
And if he wakes up to find me drooling and mewling for him, there won’t be hiding it any longer. His breathing isn’t the long, calm ones of one in deep slumber. He could wake up anytime. So I hasten to the bathroom, willing my eyes not to stray towards his obvious yet unintentional arousal.
After swiftly divesting myself of my clothes, I hop into the shower, blasting it on full force. Two seconds later, I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from screeching and cursing at the temperature of the water. Somehow I’d managed not only to set it on full force, I had turned it on at the hottest temperature as well.
The cold shower I give myself after hurriedly changing the settings doesn’t do much to clear my mind. My body is crying from rebuffed desire. Clearly this sharing-a-room thing isn’t working out in my favour.
As a compromise to my physical needs that allows most of my pride to remain intact, I turn off the shower and get into the bathtub instead. Reaching for the hose, once again I turn it on full force, but this time only after checking the temperature. Uncaring if it’s shameless to do this when my best friend is asleep on the opposite side of the wall, I open my legs and direct the head between them. The intense pressure of the water hitting my pussy awards me with immediate relief from my pent-up frustration, immediately followed by building pleasure that had been denied from me in the bed just now. Keeping the steady jet continuously hitting my sensitive nub with my left hand, I reach down with my right to trace my slit. It’s completely drenched, and I know that it’s not all from the water coming out of the faucet.
My middle and index fingers slip past my entrance easily. Scooting down the tub to get into a better, lower position with only the upper half of my torso resting against the wall of the tub, I begin to move my fingers in and out of my warm depths. Pretending that it’s Jimin’s cock that I’d felt against my pussy, the memory still fresh, I burn the sensation inside my mind to last me for all time. Soon I’m panting and moaning, though still of sound enough mind to be careful not to utter his name out loud, but unable to stop the aroused sighs that fall out of my mouth at the thought of him doing all of this to me, and more.
The fantasy brings me to a climax in record time with a loud cry that I hope is masked by the sound of running water and thick stained glass. Just in case Jimin is awake, I try to clean myself up as fast as I can. If I’m lucky, maybe he’d still be asleep.
When I step out of the bathroom, he’s still on the four-poster, turned onto his side with his back facing me once more. However, I can see movement underneath the sheets that tells me that he is no longer asleep. Is he… masturbating? Even though it’s covered, I can see his right arm moving rapidly, almost desperately. His breathing is unsteady, just like mine was right before in the bathtub.
A part of me that must be sick and perverted wants to watch him. I stand rooted on the spot with my hand on the doorknob, fascinated, longing to see him pleasure himself. Dying to help him do it. Already my center is reacting again. I’m so ready for him. I’ve been ready for him for so long.
But before I can rationalise continuing to watch my best friend masturbate like a total creep, unthinkingly I release my hand from the door of the bathroom, causing it to close shut with a sharp click. Jimin immediately stills, confirming to me that my suspicions were right. The sound also brings me back to my senses. What should I do now?
In the end, I opt for the safe option, the one that I’ve chosen over and over and over again. Striding past the bed, I greet him as normally as I can. “Hey, wake up, we’ve already wasted half a day just snoozing.”
I’m sure that Jimin is going for a sleepy grunt, but it came out sounding more like a horny groan than anything else to my ears. To keep things from becoming awkward, I pretend not to notice it. Instead, I open the wardrobe in the corner of the room, giving him a chance to hightail it to the bathroom with my back turned to him. He grabs the opportunity readily. As he showers, I dress quickly then let myself out onto the balcony, closing the doors behind me. It’s so much easier to tell myself that he hadn’t heard my shameless moans while I was inside the bathroom if I don’t hear him making them either.
Since he doesn’t comment on it, I assume that he either really didn’t hear me in the bathroom, or that he’d rather not say anything in case I saw him and return the favour. I’m more than happy to just pretend nothing had happened. Especially the fact that I used him to get myself off, although I’m pretty sure he’s oblivious to that. Otherwise I doubt he’d let me go on for as long as I did. Masturbating is something normal, he’d probably spare me the embarrassment even if he hadn’t been caught doing it himself. But using your best friend for your own orgasm is something else entirely.
So, with me neglecting to say anything about sorting out his morning wood – which is completely understandable – and him either not knowing that he wasn’t the only one who got off today, or choosing not to mortify me by saying that he does, the afternoon is spent in peace at Batu Feringghi. It doesn’t cost us much to get a driver to bring us to the long stretch of beach less than half an hour from Georgetown. Going there on a weekday means that we’re spared from the throng of people I’m sure would flock the tranquil strip of sand and sea on weekends. The salty wind is refreshing on my skin; perfect after a proper rest the night before.
Even more perfect than the breeze hitting my face and whipping through my hair is having Jimin by my side, leisurely walking in a more or less straight line marked by the water kissing the sand. We’re close enough that the gentle waves wash over our feet every few seconds, but not too deep into the sea that we’re wet past our ankles. I want to go on like this forever, strolling next to Jimin, feeling like a real couple.
It isn’t long before the blissful walk morphs into a food outing though, as it has always been on this trip, when we spot a stall further up the beach and Jimin wiggles his eyebrows as he asks me if I want to check the food out. He knows me well, so I can see how he immediately thought that’s what I wanted. However, this time, I’d really rather just spend some quality time with him. No words or anything else needed. Just basking in his presence, soaking in the happiness I feel simply by having him here with me. Once we get back to Seoul, we’ll get caught up in the flow of our own lives again. With people we know all around us, we will truly go back to being just best friends. He will get a girlfriend, and I’ll probably find another boyfriend to fill in the emptiness that can never be satiated by anyone other than Jimin. Is it wrong of me to want to continue this make-believe game of being his girlfriend a little bit longer, even if it’s only in my head?
Of course, it’s not as if I can tell Jimin any of this out loud. Plastering a smile on my face instead, I jokingly praise him, “Wow, when did you learn to read my mind?” and start off towards the stall ahead of him. His, “Oy, wait for me!” is met with laughter, but it rings hollow in my ears. I bounce and skip along, but it’s hard to do so and maintain a steady foothold on the ground thanks to the soft sand giving way underneath my feet. My body feels unbalanced, struggling to remain upright despite – or perhaps because – of the jolly movements I’m forcing upon myself, parallel to the emotions I’ve been keeping inside me for so long. Always on the verge of crumbling, threatening to fall into the unknown, even as I put up a front of being Jimin’s happy best friend.
Blinking back tears, I clear my throat as I stop in front of the stall to read the menu. “What is this?” Pointing to a foreign word on the small white board propped in front of me, I ask the young guy, barely a man, manning the stall as Jimin steps up next to me, bumping my shoulder on purpose.
“Oh, uhm…” he looks visibly flustered, eyes moving all over the separated goods on his workspace as he tries to find the words in English to answer my question. He must be taking care of this place for someone. He seems new and a little inexperienced with customers. I feel bad for him, but I still want an answer, so I wait patiently, flashing him an encouraging smile.
Jimin is quick to take pity on him. “Well, all that matters is that it tastes good, right?”
Given an out, the young man breathes a sigh of relief, obviously feeling more at ease. “Miss, pasembur is a mixture of all these things,” he makes a sweeping gesture towards the ingredients laid out on the table in front of him, “covered with peanut sauce. Can you handle a bit of spice?”
Placated by his effort to explain, I lean forward to look at the dry stuff he has sorted out in different containers. Some shredded cucumbers and turnips, bean sprouts, fried tofu and a fried pancake-looking thing that looks crispy. “Yeah, I love spicy food!”
The ingredients just need to be put together in a large plate, and soon Jimin and I are sitting at one of the tables propped up around the stall under a leafy tree. Both of us take the chairs on opposite sides, so we can enjoy the view of the sea as we sip our coconut juice straight from the fruit. Halfway through our afternoon snack, Jimin muses, “I wonder how much weight we’ve put on since we’ve been here?”
His question makes the mouthful I have in my mouth hard to swallow. “Ugh, must you think about that? We’re supposed to enjoy our holiday with no worries!” I wag my fork at him grumpily, reaching for a glass of ice I’d asked from the boy to wash down the food with the cool, melted water.
My chiding rolls off of him like water off a duck’s back. “If I’m going to continue going with you for more food after this, I’m gonna have to make some space,” he says playfully, getting up with a gesture towards the small building that houses restrooms a few hundred meters away.
“Ew!” After sending a chuckling Jimin off by flinging what’s left of the ice in my cup at him, I turn back to the remnants of our food. The peanut sauce is only mildly spicy, but still very enjoyable. We’ve found out that the fried pancake-like thing is actually prawn fritters, but I like the turnip the most. Coupled with the heavier peanut sauce, the juice that flows into my mouth when I bite the turnip provides a refreshing, contrasting taste that reinvigorates my senses. As I try to pick out the turnip strips among the few other toppings left over, a man I haven’t seen before pulls the stool next to mine.
Confused, I give the surroundings a quick glance before turning back to him. Only one other table is occupied. The rest are empty. Even while sitting, I can tell he’s taller than many Malaysians I’ve seen so far. He’s fair-skinned, and although he looks Asian, he doesn’t look quite like a Malaysian – I’ve seen many of the main three races of Malaysians; Malays, Chinese and Indians – and I’m no expert, but there’s something about him that tells me that he’s a tourist, too. “Excuse me, why are you sitting here?”
“So I can take a better look at you, cutes,” he responds arrogantly, turning me off in a split second. Trying to find someone to hook up with on his vacation, I suppose.
Frowning, I pointedly continue spearing one of the small nuggets of the pasembur with my fork, uncaring of what I choose to pop into my mouth in a show of blowing him off. “Well, I don’t care to look at you, so please leave.”
As expected, he’s not going to give up so easily. “I came over ‘cause you look really bored, sitting here alone by yourself. The name’s Charlie. Why don’t you come with me? My room is just over at that hotel,” he points towards one of the ritzy resorts by the beach, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction by looking at it. “I’ll show you a fun time.”
“No, tha–“ I start to turn him down again, but he grabs my hand, uninterested in my response.
“Hey! Ah, uhm…” Before I can put up a struggle to get myself free, we’re stopped by the boy taking care of the stall. From the way his words are coming up in short stutters, it’s clear that he’s scared out of his wits. Yet he’s still standing up to the much bigger man for my sake. “The miss has a boyfriend!”
“Eh?” Charlie looks from the boy to me, then scans the open space. “Where is he then?”
“Uh.” Great. What am I supposed to tell him now?
But before I can think of a reply, he shrugs indifferently. “Just ditch him, then.”
Again, I start to pull away from him, but this time it’s Jimin who stops us in our tracks. “What’s going on here?” His tone is light, but I can sense the undercurrent of what I’ve named the Angry Jimin; the quiet man who speaks in a soft voice, hiding a dangerous persona that can cut a person with one cold look. In all the years I’ve known him, I can probably count the number of times I’ve seen Jimin like this with the fingers on one hand, but the departure from the usual Jimin that I know is so drastic, there’s no mistaking it when he’s truly furious like this. Even though I know that I’m not in the wrong, he has me shaking in my flip-flops.
Charlie, on the other hand, does not recognise the cue signalling that he’s in hot water. “Who are you?” Then, making the same assumption as the boy, “what, are you her boyfriend?”
Afraid of what Jimin might say and its consequences – not just about Charlie, but I selfishly can’t bear to hear him say that he’s not my boyfriend, either – I wrestle away from Charlie’s grip, rushing forward towards Jimin to link my arm around his. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.”
My unexpected move confuses Jimin, earning a bewildered expression from him, but Charlie doesn’t seem to care either way. “Tch. Look man, don’t be such a spoilsport. I just want to borrow her for a couple of hours. Or do you wanna come join us too? I hate sharing, but I’m sure we can find someone for you, too. If you don’t mind ‘em ugly,” he laughs nastily, reaching out for me again.
However, Jimin snaps out of his bafflement quickly, and snatches Charlie’s wrist in a firm grip before he can get his hand on me. “Do not touch her.” Jimin’s icy voice intimidates Charlie, I can tell, as the latter hesitates for a moment. But he waves away the warning.
“Aw, c’mon. I–aaaaaaargh!” Charlie’s flippant tone hikes up several notches as his knees buckle, attempting to wrench out of Jimin’s grip, which has tightened so much that his hand is starting to bend at an unnatural angle. Once he manages to get out of it, he backs up several large steps, staying clear out of Jimin’s reach. “What the fuck, man! I thought we were cool! If you’re going to be such a stick about it, you could’ve just said something!”
Now that his switch has been turned on, Jimin is in no mood for any tomfoolery. “I told you not to dare lay a hand on her. Now. Fuck Off.” His words still come out composed and almost unaffected, but his normally smiling eyes now have a malicious glint to them, and even Charlie has learnt his lesson.
We leave the place soon after he does, after I thank the boy for standing up for me. Both Jimin and I know where we’re heading to next; I told him our plans before we headed out a few hours earlier, and I think that we’re walking in the right general direction, but neither of us are checking if we’re going the right way. When the heart is lost, does it matter where the body goes? I’m not sure what’s going on with Jimin, though. He isn’t checking if we’re going the right way, and he doesn’t seem to care, either. I’d ask him what’s bothering him if I wasn’t so preoccupied myself. Having him protect me like that made me ecstatic, even though I was also scared back there. But the aftermath is excruciating. Having him act like he’s my boyfriend, as short-lived as it was, only makes it more painful to face reality. He will be that for another lucky girl, one day, forever. But that girl isn’t going to be me.
While I’m musing on the thoughts that I’ve been burying for ages and plan to do so until the end of time, Jimin isn’t planning on taking the same approach. I should never have worried about asking him what’s wrong – he’s going to address it himself without any prodding from me. “You could’ve just told that ass that your boyfriend is back at home.”
Frayed nerves and a permanently broken heart immediately fuel the ire that rises inside me at his comment. Is that really important? “Do you really think he would have left me alone if I’d said that? He was trying to take off with me even with you there,” I bite off bitterly.
Jimin sighs, unable to argue with the validity of my statement. “I guess that’s true. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend to be your boyfriend to chase him away.”
“Why, is the idea of being my boyfriend that horrible to you?” No, wrong thing to say. I shouldn’t lash out like this. I’m only inviting trouble. But I can’t stop. Jimin might have not done anything wrong, but I still can’t help being resentful towards him for this. I can’t stop hating myself for still being hung up over him. He might not have meant anything hurtful by it, right now and back then, but it doesn’t stop it from eating away at me, turning me into an ugly monster inside.
At least he has enough wits to recognise that he’d put his foot in his mouth. “No, I didn’t mean–“
“Just stop.” I don’t want to hear it. I can’t bear it. His meaning is crystal clear. It always has been. Jimin just doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend. However, if I hear the exact words, I don’t think I can handle it. All of me wants to run far from him, but I can’t do that without appearing even more suspicious than I am now. So I settle for increasing my walking speed just short of a run, surprising Jimin as I leave him behind to cross the road. The few seconds it takes for him to wait for the cars to pass and lengthen his strides to return to my side grants me a bit of time to furiously blink my tears away, clearing my throat. I hope he’d missed the way my voice cracked just now.
“Hey, what’s up with you?” Jimin pulls me to the curb, holding me by the shoulder to face him. “You’ve been acting weird. I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just–“
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I throw out fake words meant to reassure him, using my phone as an excuse not to look at him. “Just checking the direction for the night market.” My thumb shakes with the rest of me, making it difficult to type, but I will myself to make it steady. I can’t break down now. Not after all this time, in the middle of the road in a foreign country, no less.
“No, you’re not.” It isn’t the same Jimin that had dealt with Charlie earlier, but I can tell that I’m trying his patience. Still, I can’t tell him. If I do, not just this trip; everything will fall apart. And I need Jimin more than I need air. If I can only have him as a friend, then I’ll take it with the heartbreak that comes with it.
“Just let it go. Please, Jimin,” I plead with him, finally tilting my face up towards his concerned one. The annoyance on his face crumbles when he sees the raw agony I know I can no longer hide. My watery eyes that betray a world of pain, even if he doesn’t know why. His hold on me loosens, then releases me, his arms falling limply to his sides. The last thing I want is to see him like this. It’s even worse because I’m the cause. But there’s nothing else I can do. “I’m sorry.”
“If you think it’s best for you, I’d do anything,” Jimin says, not asking for an explanation. “Just know that you can come to me about anything. Anything at all. I would always be there for you.”
I nod appreciatively, thinking to myself that he can’t be the medicine to the disease that he himself has created. “Thank you,” I whisper. We stand like that for a while, ignoring other people walking by us, some peering curiously at two foreigners just frozen there. Wiping my tears as discreetly as I can with him watching, I take a few deep breaths, determined to return to my normal self again – as normal as I can be, anyway – and get this day back on track. It has been a roller coaster so far.
The night market spanning along the main road and beyond are made of countless makeshifts stalls that light up the descending night. I can see just about everything I can think of here – from the standard souvenirs, to traditional clothes and bikinis, knockoff bags and watches, to paintings. Normally I would have soaked up the atmosphere, growing so excited that I’d border on crazy just trying to decide what to buy and ending up with more goods than I could carry, but somehow I can’t quite muster up the energy. It isn’t the fault of the vendors, who are friendly and inviting, but not too pushy. Nor is it because I’m turned off by the prices; although I do notice that things here are a little overpriced compared to some other places I’ve been to so far. As desperate as I am to return things to how it was before, I can’t get over Jimin rejecting me as a girlfriend. If he doesn’t even want to pretend to be my boyfriend, I can only imagine how much of a turn off it is to him to have it become a reality. And while I’ve known all along that this is how he feels, I’ve spent so long denying it to myself as I pretend on the outside that I’m all good with it. Without anyone knowing, I’ve allowed myself to fantasise being his girlfriend for too long. It’s just daydreaming, I’d thought. Just a fantasy. I know what’s real, I’d told myself. But I didn’t realise that it had made me hope that it would someday come true, and to be forced to face reality like that – it left me in a state of shock. Things are even worse, because I’m here with nowhere to run from him.
It certainly doesn’t help matters that many of the vendors assume that we’re a couple. While not surprising, it makes the air feel more awkward between us, and drives the knife deeper into my heart. I don’t need to be reminded that Jimin doesn’t see me as girlfriend material, no matter how much it may seem differently to everyone else. Every “No, no, we’re just friends,” I tell every friendly seller is a cruel admittance to the fact that I’ve been denying since we were young. Like a punishment for thinking that I can one day have more than I deserve. I couldn’t have been more wrong. And this whole day is just full of occurrences driving the point home, over and over and over. I want to cry my heart out in anguish. I want to scream my lungs out in frustration. And I want to run, to the ends of the earth, and fall off to a place where I can hurt no longer.
I’m sure Jimin knows that something isn’t right with me, but he doesn’t say or ask anything. While I really appreciate that he’s giving me space and keeping his distance so I can lick my wounds as best as I can in such a crowded place, a foolish part of me still hopes that he cares. His suggestion that we call it a night and get an early start tomorrow after popping for dinner at a food court wedged among the stalls is a very welcome one. At this point I just want to sleep and forget all this ever happened. The latter might be too much to ask for, but I can’t imagine that some rest would make anything worse than it already is.
“When I said an early morning, I didn’t mean this!”
Jimin’s whining is ignored, although he doesn’t notice me giggle softly at his dismay. I’m glad that a few hours’ sleep is enough to restore the normalcy between us. At least that’s how it looks on the surface. My own feelings for him, now escalated to an irreversible state, have been repressed back inside me, where they have been kept carefully under lock and key for as long as I’ve realised them. And I tell myself that I’m okay with this. I’ve always known that Jimin will forever be my best friend, and only that. It was just my stupidity that kept embers of hope burning within that it might somehow change. As long as I can extinguish my impossible wishes, I can hold onto what I have – Jimin’s friendship. That is more than enough. It has to be. The alternative is to confront him with the truth, and lose him.
So I choose to maintain this delicate equilibrium. What happened yesterday should never come to pass again. I was careless, foolishly allowing my real feelings to surface. That mistake should never be repeated. Hopefully Jimin would think that I’m just still upset about Se Hoon, and leave it at that. Jimin has never been all that keen on talking too much about my boyfriends. The time we spend together has always been for just the two of us. We may chat about our partners once in a while, just to check in on the other person, but we never delved into it. I never cared to talk about my boyfriends when Jimin is the only one I truly wanted, and perhaps Jimin has never had much to share about his relationships, either. It would just be frustrating if I had to listen to him talk about them, so if he doesn’t say anything, I’ve never asked.
Addressing him from the front on the narrow dirt path, I point out, “It’s not that early, you know,” then yelp as I almost stumble over a root jutting out of the ground.
“Look out!” Relying on his animal-like reflexes, Jimin rushes forward and seizes me by the arms before I tumble to the ground. Wrapped in his arms, his sweat and slightly heavier breathing from the exertion of our exercise should be anything but romantic, but as I look up into his soft eyes, filled with concern, I can hear my heartbeat pounding erratically in my ears, and I know it’s not because we’ve been navigating this leafy terrain over the past half hour. Even in this awkward, uncomfortable position, with most of my body weight resting on him and both of us smelling way less fresh than daisies, I can’t help but notice how inviting his lips look from this close proximity. I’d give my whole fortune to be able to kiss them.
No. I’m letting myself fall into the same trap all over again. Before I do anything I will regret later, I clear my throat and extract myself from his embrace. Jimin lets me go readily. “Sorry,” I mumble to hide both my embarrassment and disappointment.
At first, Jimin looks as stunned as I feel, but my movements and apology snaps him out of it. “I told you that hiking is a bad idea,” he takes the opportunity to chide me for my choice, in the aggravating I-told-you-so manner only a childhood friend can manage. It automatically incites an immature response in me, pulling me away from my years-old worries, if only for a moment.
“It so isn’t! Just wait until we get there. Besides, it’s the perfect way to burn off all the food we ate.” Finishing with a loud huff, I turn around and continue on the narrow trail towards Monkey Beach, a stopping point on our way to the Muka Head lighthouse in Penang National Park.
We arrive at the beach just a little under an hour later. It’s already midmorning, and the sun has begun its work warming the sand and the water. I had my fill of the beach yesterday, and there’s still more hiking to do before we reach the lighthouse, but I can’t resist running my hand through the clear water and then splashing an unsuspecting Jimin who’d crouched down next to me. “Hey!” He scolds me indignantly as I erupt into laughter; my first uninhibited one since only yesterday, but it seems like forever since I’d last felt such unadulterated joy. The world just isn’t right when things are not going well with Jimin. It makes me more determined to keep everything just as they are. A life where I’m on the outs with Jimin just isn’t right.
If either of us thought that going to Monkey Beach was tiring enough, we’re in for an unpleasant surprise. While the trail to the beach was slightly challenging, it was mostly flat. From the beach to the lighthouse is a far less forgiving climb – one that would have knocked me out if I were in a worse shape than I’m in. Jimin, the fitter one of the two of us, insists that we would have gotten to our destination in less than forty minutes if I hadn’t stopped to catch my breath, but I pretend not to hear his annoying remark, choosing to roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at him when his back is turned.
Despite the journey that was more tiring than we’d bargained for, it’s well worth it now that we’re here. The lighthouse is an old one; there’s nothing really remarkable about its appearance. Our climb is really rewarded by the view that we see from the top of the lighthouse. Jimin makes his way up first, then calls out to me excitedly, and I give up on regaining my strength at the bottom of the lighthouse to join him. The narrow walkway surrounding the lighthouse peak offers us a fantastic view of the islands surrounding this one, and we stand there for a while, just taking in the endless stretch of the blue sea, trying to figure out where it meets the azure sky in the horizon.
The climb down from the lighthouse is significantly easier compared to going in the opposite direction, and we find ourselves back at the beach in no time. “Do you know that we can see turtles here?”
“Where?” The possibility of this gets Jimin on his toes at once, excitedly looking around the beach for any stray turtles wandering around. I can’t help but giggle at his enthusiastic response.
“I don’t know. I read that you might see them here. Maybe we’d have a higher chance to see them at one of the other beaches in the park. It’s a nesting place for the turtles, and the season is right about now.” My clarification disappoints him, and his shoulders sagging makes me want to pull him into a tight hug. “Do you want to go there and see if we can find any?”
At first he brightens up at the idea, then looks at me sceptically. “How far is it from here?”
“Uh…” As much as I like playing tour guide, I’m not actually sure of the answer to his question. “A little far, maybe? The way there uses an almost completely different trail, I think.”
That draws an easy response from him; “pass”. By the time we’ve walked all the way back to the park entrance, had a tasty lunch and got back to our hotel to shower, it’s already late in the afternoon. “The day just flew by,” Jimin remarks as we sit in the car, on our way to our next stop.
“I know, right? But this isn’t bad.” We’re on the main road, surrounded by buildings on our left and right, but we must be on the edges of the island, because I can see glimpses of the sea and the reddish-purplish dusky sky as the car zips by the gaps between the buildings. “It’s kind of relaxing when we’re not rushing from one place to another.”
“I wouldn’t call a morning hike relaxing though,” Jimin mumbles under his breath, earning a playful smack on the arm from me.
The easy-going mood and light banter continue even after we get to Straits Quay, a beautiful marina enclosed by a shopping mall. Perhaps too easy-going, as we indulge in some drinks after dinner. Having western food is definitely a departure from the norm after several scrumptious Malaysian meals, but I don’t mind the change very much. Especially now that the alcohol has made its way into my system – losing my inhibitions is making me tap into my repressed emotions more deeply than usual, and it’s confusing me. While I’m happy that Jimin is here with me, I’m also tired and angry at him for rousing my irrepressible hopes once more.
Without thinking, I’ve downed more than I can handle. I’ve belatedly realised that Jimin is keeping a modest pace, not imbibing even half as much as I have, but at that point, I’m beyond caring. “You should slow down a bit,” he warns me, and only then I put my mug down with a sigh, heeding his advice. “You okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” Although I’m starting to feel a little woozy, I still have a bit of wits about me yet.
Jimin stares at me, trying to judge if I’m still of sound mind. He must have been aiming for the delicate balance between loosening my tight lips and inability to think coherently, and I’ve fallen neatly into his trap. “Is everything going well with Se Hoon?”
“Why, do you think there’s trouble in paradise?” My answer is sharp and bitter out of sheer anger and defensiveness, instinctively seeking to protect myself even when I’m not in the best state to do so.
“I’m just concerned. I know you’re pissed because he bailed out of this trip at the last minute, but you seem more… prickly than I thought you would be,” Jimin hedges, expertly opening my precious treasure box of jealously guarded secrets. I’ve always worried that Jimin knows that I’m keeping something from him. He could always tell when there’s something I’d rather not tell him, and he usually manages to make me spill everything out. Everything… but my real feelings for him.
“And whose fault do you think it is?” I ask testily, not thinking that there can be more than one answer to this question.
“Se Hoon?” Jimin’s wrong answer makes me want to slap my forehead. At this point I’m not sure who’s the stupid one; him or me. Of course he would think Se Hoon is behind my irritable behaviour, but should I have clued Jimin in on my troubles in the first place?
“Not any longer.” His clueless answer bursts the balloon of fury blowing up within me, and I deflate in my seat. How can I expect him to put all the pieces together when I’m withholding so much of them from him? Jimin can’t possibly know that I’m hopelessly in love with him. Not when I’ve done everything that I can to hide it from him. But I’m tired of concealing things. I’ve gotten sick of it for a long time, and it has risen stealthily to the surface, slipping through my defences, biding its time until an opportunity comes for it to spill forth. Like right now. “We broke up just before we came here.”
“Oh.” His response is quiet, and I can’t tell if he’s indifferent, or sad for me, or feeling awkward from the sudden news bomb. “So it wasn’t some business thing that made him cancel the trip?”
“It was business, alright. A meeting with his colleague on his bed.” Funny, I should feel more upset about it, but I’m not. Whatever Se Hoon has done during the course of our relationship has never affected me much one way or another. Naturally he did please me and annoy me at times, but nothing he ever did got to me the way Jimin does. It’s the same for all my past relationships. I’m aware of that. But what else can I do but accept these pseudo relationships, since I can’t have the one I truly want?
Jimin’s brows shoot up upon hearing this, then crash down in a frown, accompanied by some colourful curses under his breath as he processes the information. “Sorry about that. Never liked the smarmy guy anyway. You can do way better,” he rattles off the typical sympathetic words that don’t do anything to lift up my spirits. “You could have just told me though,” he mumbles, almost as an afterthought, but I can tell that he’s offended that I kept it from him. Far from making me feel guilty though, his expectations that I share anything about my half-hearted relationships only serves to stab another wound in my already well-punctured heart.
“Guess I don’t want to feel like an even bigger loser in front of the guy who rejected me before I could even tell him how I feel.” A large lump lodges itself in my throat, obstructing my air flow, but the words come out anyway.
“What do you mean?” Leave it to Jimin to be stymied even after being told outright. “Who are you talking about?”
I don’t know what else I would have blabbed to him if a wave of dizziness didn’t strike me right then. Finally, something – alcohol in this case – saves me from my stupidity, even though it was precisely the same thing that led to my foolish confession in the first place. “Whoa!” Jimin reaches out to steady me, almost upsetting the glasses on the table in the process. “Okay, I think we’ve had enough.”
I’m not sure when or how Jimin paid for our drinks, but he must have somehow, because we made it out of the shopping mall and down at the seafront without anyone hounding us to pay the bill.
It’s hard to believe that this beautiful place is this quiet when the night is still young, but I suppose we have the weekday to thank for that. The sea breeze does wonders to whip me awake, and although I remain tipsy and a little unsteady on my feet, I manage to convince Jimin that I’m up to the night-time stroll without any danger of falling into the sea unsupported in no time at all.
The yachts lined up along the marina give the place a luxurious feeling, while the lights from the high-end apartments above the shopping mall illuminate the scene behind us against the darkness of the night and the mysterious sea before us. A white lighthouse marking the end of the yachts is clearly much newer than the one we visited earlier today. What it lacks in character and history, it makes up in pristine beauty, befitting the dreamlike scenery we’ve found ourselves in. While I’m not exactly in a romantic mood that this setting is obviously perfect for, I can still appreciate the atmosphere. Well, as much as I can while focusing on putting one foot in front of the other without losing my balance.
We turn right at the lighthouse, following the wide walkway past white houses surrounded by greenery; surely a picture-perfect setting had we seen it during the day. Lamps glow softly above us as we walk unhurriedly to the end of the straight path, both unwilling for the idyllic time to end. The silence between us is a companionable one. Jimin and I have never felt the need to fill them with idle chatter if we have nothing to say to each other. Or even when we do, sometimes, like we do now. I’m slowly becoming aware of the fact that I have said something I never should have, but I’m still buzzed enough to not care about the consequences.
However, Jimin, the more sensible of the two of us at the moment, isn’t content with letting things be. By the time we turn around to head back towards the shopping mall, I start to feel the weight of the empty air, filled with burning questions on the tip of Jimin’s tongue. In my heart of hearts, I don’t want to do it, but I look at him nevertheless; a silent permission for him to go ahead and say what is on his mind.
“When you were talking about the guy whom you couldn’t confess to, whom did you mean?”
Somehow I just knew that he’s going to zero in on that. “Does it really matter?” I sigh.
“Of course it does! I want to know who is stupid enough to reject you before you could tell him anything.” He pauses, trying to make sense of the whole thing. Of course he doesn’t know. He isn’t even aware that I know what he said, so long ago. Heck, he probably doesn’t even remember – people don’t tend to remember things that aren’t important to them, anyway. I want to snort in derision at his comment. He doesn’t even know that he’s talking about himself.
I shake my head; partly in mild disbelief, but mostly in hopelessness. The events of yesterday had solidified reality and brought me back down to earth. “It’s not gonna happen, so I’m trying not to think about it. Even if it’s just pretend, I just want to feel cherished, by the right guy, for once.”
Jimin stares at me intently, both of us standing so still we could be mistaken for statues but for our hair and garments swaying gently in the calm breeze of the night sea. I can tell that he wants to say something, to offer me words of comfort, but the agony that I’ve suffered for years must be showing on my face. A pain so deep that nothing he can say can make me feel better. Yet I wait. Hanging onto foolish hope that the source of my sickness can provide me with the remedy I need. An eternity passes by, and I know that there’s nothing he can do. So I give up, and step forward, alone. Perhaps this time I really can leave him behind.
But of course, my feet somehow get tangled with each other, and I start to trip. “Whoa!” Jimin’s quick reaction saves me in a very similar fashion to what happened less than an hour earlier, pulling me back against gravity. “Oof!” Like a big oaf, I stumble heavily into his arms, almost causing him to topple over. He manages to stay upright though, leaving me in a very awkward position; a heart-thumping position that I’ve always longed to be in, and also one that is counter-productive to my aim of forgetting him. “You okay?”
“Mmhmm.” I’m not. Intoxicated, the closest I’ve been to outing myself in ages, in dangerous proximity to the man whom I can never have. Carefully, trying not to lose my balance again and to avoid making it look like I’m pushing him away, I extract myself from his embrace. Immediately my body cries out for the warmth of his body. It isn’t that cold, but my desire for his nearness transcends physical needs. Best to get out of this situation before I start daydreaming again. “Can we go back? I’m not feeling so good.”
Without protest Jimin agrees, helping me call for a driver this time, and soon we’re back in our hotel room. We take turns showering, the motions almost feeling like a routine at this point, like we’ve been living together for years instead of this being only the fourth night we’ve shared a room consecutively. Ever since the ride back to the hotel, we haven’t said much to each other beyond short, necessary things, like, “I’ll pay for the ride.” Rather than awkward, the silence is heavy. Jimin seems lost in his thoughts while I’m just trying to clear my head for the most part. When we lay down on the bed together, I’m more aware of his nearness than ever before.
Skin prickling and thoughts all jumbled up, I shift to rest on my side, facing away from him. Perhaps I can try to get some sleep like this, I try to convince myself even though I’m hyperaware of his presence behind me. Why is this so damn hard? Tears well up behind my eyelids at the futility of it all. Jimin is just a guy. Okay, he’s an amazing guy, and the greatest friend anyone can ask for, but he is still just a normal human being. With flaws. He irritates me at times. We get into arguments and fights. So why is it that I can’t let him go? Why do I still pine for him? Why can’t I fall in love with someone else? It’s not like all my past boyfriends were assholes like Se Hoon. There have been decent guys. Nice guys. Men who are just as good as Jimin. Maybe even better. Why am I not with them? Why didn’t those relationships work out?
A wet sob makes its way out involuntarily, inducing one more, then another. I hope Jimin is asleep, so he doesn’t hear me. Slowly, I begin to slip out from under the covers, trying to keep the pitiful noises wedging in my throat contained, at least until I can make my way to the balcony where I can cry my eyes out. However, before I can reach the edge of the bed, Jimin grabs hold of me from behind, pulling me back against his chest. “Shh,” he whispers soothingly into my ear, stroking me softly without demanding an explanation.
His gentle encouragement eases me to let myself go, drawing up the white blanket up to my face, cupping it as I cry in earnest, drenching the quality cloth with my tears. Although Jimin doesn’t know that he’s the cause behind my sadness, it doesn’t make his tender brand of solace any less comforting. For me, Jimin has always been able to evoke the most extreme emotions within; the highest bliss, the deepest pain, the best comfort. And even though I can’t let it go – perhaps I never will – the overwhelming agony eventually subsides. Tendrils of exhaustion begin to creep in on the edges of my consciousness, as they always do after a good cry. My eyes will probably be bloodshot and puffy tomorrow.
After finding a dry spot on the blanket to wipe them, I twist around in Jimin’s arms to face him again. None of the lights are on in the room, but the pinpricks of light from the lamps outside shine dimly through the thin inner curtains that have been drawn over the glass doors, softly illuminating the room like faraway stars. I can make out Jimin’s kind expression as he looks at me, plump lips curled into a tiny smile. “Thank you.” My gratitude comes in a soft voice, even though I can’t return his smile.
“Anytime,” he answers lightly. The arm that was wrapped around me lifts so he can caress the side of my face tenderly with his hand. His touch feels like heaven, and my eyelids flutter shut, wanting to savour and burn this kind warmth into my memory so I can relive it a million times in the future.
When I open them again, my sight is clearer than before, with all the moisture previously clouding them washed away like they have been wiped by the windshield of a car. Jimin looks so close. Over the course of our friendship, I thought I’ve seen all of Jimin, but this is different somehow. He has never looked so attainable. I’ve never wanted him as much as I want him now, right at the cusp of cementing the determination of letting him go forever.
Against my better judgement, I shuffle closer to him, but he doesn’t move away even though he’s now just a hair’s breadth away from me. We’re so close, our breaths are mingling together. His palm is still cradling my cheek. Perhaps I’m deluding myself, but he’s looking at me as if… as if he actually loves me. I’m not sure what came over me, but I lean forward, doing what I’ve always wanted to do but never had the courage to in all the years of knowing him;
I kiss Jimin.
Even though I can feel his surprise from the way his body stiffens and his lips part in astonishment, I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut, afraid of his reaction now that I’ve taken the plunge. I don’t know what’s possessing me to make such a rash move after holding back for so long, and I’m sure I’ll live to regret it. Either from the embarrassment of being rejected, or from losing Jimin’s friendship. Maybe both. But right at this moment, I don’t care. If I’m never going to have him, the least I can ask for is one kiss, and savour it as much as I can before he pushes me away.
However… he doesn’t do anything of the sort. Quite the opposite, actually. Once he’s gotten over my unexpected move, his arms wrap around me once more, but this isn’t the tender hold meant to comfort me. No, Jimin is squeezing me with a strength that I’m not even aware he possesses, his hand cupping the nape of my neck so he can kiss me more passionately. His tongue teases my bottom lip; not making its way into my mouth, but rather content tracing my lips, as if getting to know every corner of it before going further. It’s like he’s turned the tables on me, leaving me in shock. But not for long. It’s impossible not to react when Jimin’s soft lips are melding into mine, his breaths fanning across my face, the sensations too real for it to be a dream.
It gets even more vivid as his body, much like his mouth, brushes intimately against mine, and I feel the unmistakable evidence of his desire against my stomach. My own body jumps to life immediately. I can feel my blood heating up with need, my leg hugging one of his so I can press my aching pussy against it, and I moan into his throat wantonly. The sound rouses Jimin from his trance, and finally he does what I’d expected him to do from the very start. Sitting up, he breaks the kiss, leaving me disappointed, befuddled and breathless. I hadn’t thought about how I would feel about his reaction – or rather, I didn’t expect that he’d only push me away after reciprocating my kiss, and thus have no clue what to think of it – but his fierce scowl has me trembling in fear. What have I done? Why is he like this?
“Why did you do that?” Jimin’s voice is rumbling and low, a sure-fire mark of seething anger, and this time I’m on the receiving end. I open my mouth to explain, then close it again. No words will come out. How am I supposed to explain myself? Even if I’m honest with him about my feelings, I already know what his answer will be. While I’ve gone and done the stupidest thing possible, I still can’t bear to hear the rejection from him as he looks straight into my eyes. Seeing that no answer is forthcoming, he bites out, “Do not test me like this.”
He extricates himself from me none too gently, almost kicking my leg off of him so he can get out of the bed. Still trying to gather my wits, I sit up, wanting to call out for him, but he looks back at me, his eyes narrowed in fury as if anticipating what I will do and daring me to do it. I draw back like a frightened deer and let him leave the room. The door closes shut softly, but in the silence of the night following what had transpired, it’s as loud and final as a booming thunderclap in the sky. As much as I want to go after him, I know that’s not a good idea. Especially when I don’t know what to say. What did he mean by testing him? Me kissing him might have been a stupid decision, or even a drunken mistake, but it certainly wasn’t a test. I can’t figure him out. Heck, I can’t even figure myself out.
Even though I should be tired, sleep eludes me tonight. I can’t stop thinking about my unrequited love for Jimin, what happened tonight, the incident that occurred so long ago and all the time in between. With my exhausted body and my overloaded brain wrestling for control, I slip in and out of consciousness several times during the course of the night, but when the darkness is lightened by dawn, I’m still no closer to figuring anything out than I was in the beginning.
Jimin hasn’t returned to the bed, either. A blessing, perhaps, because I can’t face him right now. I’m not sure if I can look at him in the eye ever again. After taking a quick shower, I get dressed and make my way out of the bedroom. As expected, I see him passed out on the sofa in the living room. Guilt hikes up my conscience. I should’ve been the one to take the couch, not him. He hasn’t done anything wrong. But instead of waking him up to tell him to sleep on the bed, I tiptoe out of the room, praying that he wouldn’t wake up.
Yes, I’m running away like the coward I am.
At first I wanted to just leave, but I remember that we’re not in Korea, and my disappearing without notice could cause real panic. So I scribbled a simple note saying, ‘Going out for some fresh air. See you later.’ and left it on the small wooden table next to the couch Jimin was sleeping on before slipping out. It doesn’t diminish my guilt for abandoning him on a trip like this, but it does lessen it somewhat.
Not enough for me to enjoy the time by myself, though. Even though the nasi lemak highly recommended by locals and tourists alike hits all the spicy and yummy levels on the scale, the rich coconut rice accompanied by fried anchovies and peanuts, slices of cucumber, boiled egg and fried chicken – talk about decimating two generations in one go – is only enough to fill my stomach, not my happiness meter. I stay long after my food is gone, sipping the milk tea absent-mindedly until late morning, when I figure some of the touristy places must be open by now.
Using the handy app, I get drivers to take me around a temple and a museum, but as interesting and beautiful as they are, I’m unable to get myself to enjoy them. After ending up walking aimlessly and failing to take anything in, I accept the fact that I’m just wasting my time. Resolving to find a way out, I pop into the first café that I see. With a clear aim in mind, I try to focus, forcing myself to push past the dense fog of self-loathing and denial.
Yet still almost an hour later, I can’t think of anything to say to Jimin. Is there any excuse for acting as moody as I have been, lashing out at him, then getting stupidly drunk and making a move on him like that? On top of that, I even walked out while he was sleeping. He has every right to be royally pissed off at me. Knowing Jimin though, he’s too kind to be mad at me for long. He really is more than I deserve. Looks like I’ll have to be angry at myself for the both of us. And I think that I’m doing the job quite well on my own.
In the end when I pull out my phone, instead of a long explanation that Jimin deserves, I type, ‘Jimin, I’m really, really sorry. I wasn’t in my right mind. Please let me know how I can make it up to you.’
Before I can close the chat, a reply from Jimin appears on the screen. ‘When will you be back?’
I hesitate, wondering which answer would be the right one. Does Jimin want me to come back, or is he so angry that he wishes not to see me, at least for a little while? ‘Do you want me to go back now?’
While waiting for Jimin to type out his answer, I fidget in my seat, belatedly weighing my choice of words. Did I sound like an errant child who is being questioned by her parents about her whereabouts? Or did it sound like a desperate admirer finally being given the time of day? The latter is probably closer to the truth, I laugh deprecatingly at myself. Jimin’s reply, however, doesn’t fall within my expectations;
‘The sooner the better.’
Curiosity filling me to the brim, I quickly make my way back to the hotel. Why on Earth would Jimin want me to come back as soon as I could? Does he not want to do anything touristy by himself? Or does he want to scold me? Or… does he want to continue where we stopped last night? I shake my head in disbelief at my foolish dreams. As if he’d want to do that. Pushing me away and sleeping on the couch made his rejection painfully clear.
Heart threatening to burst out of my chest in anticipation and fear, I pause for a minute to take a deep breath before opening the door to the hotel room that Jimin and I share. “Sorry I–“
“There you are.” Jimin greets me with a smile that has my pulse racing. Memories of last night flood my mind just at the sight of him, but somehow Jimin is acting like nothing had happened. I should be relieved, but for some reason I feel dismayed. Did the kiss mean nothing to him after all? After pushing me away and going so far as to sleep on the couch, I thought my coming onto him had an effect – anger, frustration, befuddlement – something. Anything. I’d risked everything for that kiss. And for a second, I was sure that he’d kissed me back. It doesn’t seem like something that can be swept under a rug. I was expecting a severe scolding. A less sane part of my brain feeds to the hope that he would pull me into his arms and kiss me, just as passionately as we did last night. However, he’s just walking around the room, collecting things as he speaks. It feels anticlimactic.
“Have you had lunch?”
I shake my head. I’ve only had a cup of coffee at the café while I agonised over what to say to him. I haven’t given a thought about lunch. Looks like all that effort was just a waste of time.
“Good. Are you ready to go? Let’s grab some food together,” he says, swiping up keys from the small table where I’d left the note for him this morning.
“Uh, okay,” I reply stupidly, not really being given a choice, as Jimin strides past me to get the door. He is acting slightly weird, but at least he doesn’t seem outwardly angry at me. I’m not sure if this is better, but my instincts tell me to go with the flow, so I follow him out of the building without protest.
“Where are we going?” Instead of waiting at the hotel lobby to call a driver, he leads me to the parking lot next to the hotel. My bewilderment deepens when he presses a button on the set of keys and a silver sedan unlocks with a flash of lights and a friendly beep. “How did you–?”
“Rented it,” Jimin answers simply, opening the passenger door and beckoning me in. In my state of confusion, I thought he wanted me to drive, but then I remember that here the driver’s seat is on the right, not the left. “It’s not that hard to find, and I can just leave the key at the hotel lobby for the owner to collect later.”
“Okay…” It doesn’t really answer the question I have in mind, but I’m not even sure what I want to ask, so I suppose this answer is as good as any.
“Buckle up.” Before I can follow up on his instructions though, he reaches over my seat to pull the seat belt and strap me in. When his body brushes against mine, all the air whooshes out of my lungs, like I’ve been hit in the stomach. He may be able to do it but no, I can’t pretend last night didn’t happen. But I want to remain friends with Jimin more than anything else, so I don’t comment on it, even if I can’t act as nonchalantly as he is.
He has no problem driving on the opposite side, easing out of the parking and making his way down the small alley to join the busy main road with no issues. The only thing that might clue anyone in that he’s not actually from around here is his phone on its holder on the dashboard, displaying the directions to our destination on the navigation app. It says that we will take about forty minutes to get there, but not the actual location we’re headed to. “Where are we going?” I repeat my question from earlier. “Is it too far to get a driver to drive us there?”
“Hmm.” Instead of answering me, Jimin glances at the screen of his phone. “It’ll take us a little under an hour to get there, so I guess it is kind of far, or maybe too expensive?”
“Uh.” I’m not sure what to say to that. How am I supposed to know how much it’ll cost us to get there with a driver, or how far is ‘far’? A question better kept to myself, because I’m sure Jimin would find it ridiculous if I voice it out loud. Why ask when I’ve no idea what I want to get out of it?
“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Jimin continues, seemingly knowing what I want to say when I don’t even know it myself, as usual. “I’d like to spend some quality time alone with you, just the two of us. It’s not the same when there’s a driver here.”
“Oh... okay.” My dead heart sputters weakly to life, but I tell myself not to read too much into it. Isn’t that what always gets me into trouble and hurts me in the first place? “It does feel a little awkward to chat between the two of us when there’s someone else there.” Yeah, that sounds like what a friend with no romantic feelings would say on the matter.
Laughing, Jimin nods, agreeing with my statement. “I totally get you! Even if we’re not speaking in English, I feel really guilty when we don’t include them in the conversation.”
“It’s the worst when the driver is totally quiet and unfriendly!” Relieved, I catch Jimin’s jovial, cheerful energy and run with it, happy that this car ride isn’t going to be as awkward as I was afraid it would be.
“What about those who play awful music?” Jimin challenges.
“No, no, that’s still not as bad as the ones who don’t play anything and won’t say a word!”
In this vein, we continue merrily all the way along the coastline of the island. “Look, Jimin, there’s an island over there!”
“Hmm?” Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, he briefly looks in the direction I’m pointing at. “Oh, that’s pretty close, isn’t it? I wonder what island it is.”
“Yeah, there’s a ferry making its way over there,” I inform him as I figure out the keywords to type into my phone to find out about the island. “Turns out it was a leprosarium, then became a quarantine station, and then a prison, but now it’s a resort.”
“Yikes, that’s weird.” Jimin cocks his head, unsure whether to laugh or disapprove. His sentiment echoes mine.
“I know, right?” Casting a look at the cluster of buildings I can see from inside the car, I try to reason the decision behind building a resort there. “Maybe there’s something that still draws people to it, even with its history.”
“Maybe.” His concentration back on driving, Jimin simply agrees with my assumption. “Maybe we can check it out next time.”
Next time? Just two words can make my mind race with endless possibilities, but I force myself not to think about them. It’s probably Jimin making polite conversation. I watch him steer the car smoothly out of the exit, gliding onto the spacious bridge that spans out almost ninety degrees away from the island. “You’re really good at this.” Grasping for a topic that would take my mind off his vague invitation to come to the island again, I comment on his superb driving skills on the left side of the road.
“Oh, yeah, it’s not my first time.” Even though he tries to play it off coolly, I can make out the smug smile yanking at the corners of his lips. It’s so easy to make Jimin happy — just a praise and he’d be on cloud nine. Like a cute puppy. I try not to laugh at the imagery. “Several of the countries I’ve been to also drive on this side.”
“Oh... really.” Just like that, the wind is blown right out of my sails. Are these the trips that he’d invited me to, but I couldn’t go either because of work or because I thought that going on one with him would be too much for me to take? Whom did he go with? Were other girls there with him? My jeans are too unforgiving for me to grab, so I clench my fists around nothing; the dull pain of my nails digging into my palm feeling like a punishment I very much deserve. I don’t have the right to ask or even think of any of this. The more I ponder on it, the more pain I’ll put myself through; I know this, I’ve told myself countless times, yet I still can’t stop myself from doing it.
Thankfully, just then, Jimin’s stomach roars past my troubled thoughts. “Have you eaten anything?” I ask him guiltily, remembering that I’d left him to his own devices just this morning.
“Yeah, just something light near the hotel.” He grins sheepishly, his right hand leaving the steering wheel to push his hair back to cover his embarrassment. Somehow he melts my soul with his cuteness when he makes such an expression, and when he concentrates on driving again, he makes my heart thump hard from how cool he’s become. Feeling flustered on my own, I whip my head to the left to turn my attention out the window once again. There isn’t anything out of the ordinary to capture my attention this time, so I’m left to the mercy of my self-deprecating line of thinking until Jimin’s poor stomach rumbles again.
“Maybe we should stop to get something to eat.” Really, I don’t need any more reminders of my childish behaviour from last night to this morning. I don’t know if I can feel any worse than this.
Chuckling apologetically, Jimin reassures me, “It’s fine, we’re going to a place where we can eat.”
Slightly irritated that I have to ask this a third time, I grind out, “and where would that be?”
“You’ll see,” Jimin says teasingly, darkening my mood, but I don’t retaliate — I shouldn’t be cross with him.
“Well, I hope it’s not too far from here.” Giving in, I simply cross my arms petulantly. “If I hear your stomach growling one more time, I’m gonna go deaf.”
As Jimin promised, it’s not too far after we’ve gotten off the bridge. “This is still Penang, you know,” he informs me as he veers left to exit the highway. “It’s not just the island; part of Penang is also on the mainland.”
“Really...” It’s interesting that he’s playing the tour guide now. All the top Penang attractions I saw on the Internet are on the island, so I’d missed this fact. I wonder what Jimin has found that makes it worth driving all the way here. It doesn’t look to be a bustling city like Georgetown. While not exactly rural, the town seems more relaxed, with two-storied shops and houses filling the landscape instead of towering buildings. After only a few turns, we enter an even less developed area, this one a village. Brick houses are mixed with ones made out of wood, with trees growing all over the place, lending the scenery on both sides of the road a more natural appearance, different from the carefully structured planning of the city.
Shortly after, Jimin turns right and pulls over by the side of the road. I peer over the dashboard to see what’s in front of us — it’s a dead end. “Are we here?”
“Yup,” Jimin quips happily, getting out of the car, and I follow suit. It really feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere. Especially since we’re at the end of the road, facing a river with a very narrow bridge that’s only wide enough for pedestrians and motorists to cross, giving the impression that there’s no way out.
However, the small shop on my left at the end of the row catches my attention. I can tell that it’s been there for years and years; there’s an air of homeliness, like it has blended completely with the surroundings, and it’s filled with people. Most of them are much older than Jimin and I — probably around our parents’ age, or maybe even older than that. From their relaxed, casual dressing, they seem to be villagers. A few men are chatting excitedly over white cups of coffee, but the other patrons are all eating, despite it being slightly late for lunch. Jimin and I sit at one of the two tables just beyond the threshold of the shop, which is the only one available. I shift in my seat a little, looking around for a menu. They’re usually displayed somewhere on the wall, or given on the tables, but I don’t see any. “Ah, you’re the one who called earlier, yes?” A middle- aged man comes over to our table, all smiles as he greets us.
“Oh, you remember me?” Jimin’s obvious surprise at being remembered has the man chuckling good-naturedly.
“Of course, we very rarely see foreigners all the way out here,” the man, later introducing himself as the owner, explains to us. “It’s not exactly a touristy place. There’s a university campus close by, and I bet not even half of them know about this restaurant!”
Neither of us know how to respond to that, but the owner seems more than happy with the customers he has. And from the lack of empty tables, I’m guessing this place is actually a local favourite — with the villagers, if not the students of the nearby campus. Small and out of the way it may be, but this restaurant has a certain charm to it. The menu turns out to be very simple; freshwater curry prawns, fried fish with three-flavoured sauce and stir-fried cabbage. We forgo the fish in favour of the prawns, which were caught just this morning, and is the signature dish, as well as the cabbage.
Thanks to the simple and limited menu, our food arrives at our table quickly. The owner recommended that we get bread to accompany our prawns instead of rice, and I’m glad we’d followed his advice. The slices of white bread are perfect for soaking up the curry, and the concentrated flavour married to the sweetness of the fresh prawns is nothing short of bliss. In his state of hunger, Jimin had ordered a daunting kilogram of prawns, and although it takes us a while to finish them, it’s not as gargantuan a task as I was afraid of when I first saw the plate. Washing down the food with some homemade sugar cane juice, I smack my lips happily at Jimin. “How did you find this place?”
“It was just a stroke of luck. I was scrolling through the phone while waiting for you to come back when I saw it.” It might have sounded like Jimin was trying to make me feel guilty if he didn’t say it with a nonchalant shrug and follow it with, “I was hoping to help you take your mind off of things.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say. It seems like I haven’t made such a blunder last night as I’d thought I did. He was so angry when he’d pushed me away then, even though he’d reciprocated the kiss for a bit. I’m sure I hadn’t imagined that. What was that all about then? Something tells me that it wouldn’t be a wise decision to ask, as much as I’m dying to find out. The last thing I want to do is to sour the mood once again, after Jimin had gone out of his way to make me feel better. It’s more than I deserve, after the way I’ve treated him. So I decide to just play along, ignoring the stronger feelings and questions burning away at me, like I always do. As long as I can keep being by Jimin’s side. The momentary lapse in judgement last night could have destroyed our friendship, but somehow we’re still here, eating and talking and laughing like nothing had happened. The enormous burden that the fear of losing Jimin had pressed on my chest eases off of it, now that I’m assured that things are back to normal. Although the niggling desire for something more remains there. Always there. “Thanks, Jimin.”
Jimin’s smile at my appreciation is more dazzling than the late afternoon sun behind us. The sight of it cements our friendship, now back to equilibrium. Our passionate kiss is to become a hazy, slightly drunk mistake, and will be swept under the rug to be forgotten forever, except in the innermost secret corner of my heart, where I tuck in the sweetest memories of myself with Jimin. Tiny, insignificant instances that are surely nothing to him, but are the most precious jewels of my life, to be taken out and admired whenever I’m at my lowest and loneliest. Or sometimes even when I’m not.
A belly full is one of the easiest ways to make Jimin happy; next to praising him, and seeing him happy is definitely the simplest way to make me happy in turn. How can I not be, when presented with those bright giggles that eat up his whole body, always leaving his position on any chair in precarious balance, and scrunching up his face so adorably? Before I get lost in my thoughts of him again, I snap myself out of it by asking, “So, where to next, Mr. Tour Guide?”
My impromptu title for him jolts him into an upright position in his red plastic chair, immediately assuming a serious, business-like mien that has me in stitches. “Ahem,” he glares at me warningly, wanting me to play along. “Looks like we have–“ he takes a peek at his watch “–a bit of time left before dusk. But I think we should go soon.” Indeed, we had been sitting there for way past an hour, and the place is completely empty of other customers now. I wonder if the owner is keeping the shop open for our sake. Clearly Jimin is thinking the same thing, because he thanks the owner profusely as he pays for our meal before we leave the premises.
As Jimin skilfully manoeuvres the car out of the dead end, he playfully manoeuvres his way out of answering my increasingly insistent questions regarding our next destination. His refusal to tell me only digs my hole of curiosity deeper and deeper, however, I can’t help but laugh and wish that he doesn’t give in to my badgering. For Jimin to be this happily secretive; it must be a pleasant surprise, right? Despite myself, I’m starting to really look forward to the unknown evening plans.
Instead of going to the mysterious location, though, he drives us around the small town. As expected, there isn’t much for visitors to be interested in. “There is supposed to be a haunted mansion somewhere in here,” Jimin interrupts his tour-guide-like speech by breaking into an evil grin, the picture of the very devil with the dark orange and red hues of the sky colouring the background behind him. “Wanna go and see it?”
I don’t have to look at the rubber plantation on our left to imagine the horrors that await beyond the rows of rubber trees. “NO!” Finding Jimin’s raucous guffawing grating on my indignity, I pout petulantly at him. “Hmph. You laugh at me, but you don’t want to go either, do you?”
That was effective in getting him to stop. “You got me there.”
“Really, what would you have done if I’d said, ‘let’s go’? I bet you’d pee your pants!”
“No I wouldn’t!” It’s Jimin’s turn to be affronted. I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from bursting with laughter. “I’d just say we don’t have enough time to visit it, because I’ve already made other arrangements.”
“Oh, have you now?” Every opportunity to tease him is a chance that cannot be wasted. “And is that really true?”
“No,” he admits unabashedly, drawing chuckles from both of us. Just like Jimin knows I’m not the greatest with ghosts, I’m perfectly aware of how easy it is to scare him. “The house has an interesting story to it though. It’s supposed to have ninety-nine doors.”
“Really?” Scaredy cat I may be, but I always love a good story regardless of the genre. Horror stories are always great – as long as I don’t have to watch, or heaven forbid, experience it myself. “I wonder how big it is, to have that many doors. It’s such a specific number though.”
Jimin shrugs, not knowing the answer to that and seemingly not caring enough to find out. “A witch doctor is supposed to be staying there now.”
“Oh?” Since Jimin has turned the car around, I peer at the trees now on my right, trying to catch a glimpse of the mansion in vain. “I wonder what happened to the owners.”
“Murdered, supposedly.”
With a shiver, I tear my gaze away from the shadows of the trees that had been hypnotically pulling me in. “Okay, let’s stop talking about it. It’s giving me the creeps.”
“Aww, sorry if I scared you.” Letting the car move at a snail’s pace along the empty road, Jimin strokes my hair gently. Normally my instinct would be to swipe his hand away, perhaps with a warning to not treat me like a child. However, his touch is oddly soothing, so I simply sit back in my seat, enjoying the comforting touch. It’s not often that Jimin would treat me as preciously as this. Better set aside my ego and make the most of it.
In no time at all, we’ve arrived at a parking lot next to the river. I don’t see the curry prawn restaurant anywhere, and I wonder if we’re currently on the other side. I’m pretty sure we crossed a bridge at some point. Jimin leads me out of the car and up some narrow steps to a small jetty. Sitting down along one of the edges with our legs hanging over the side, we settle down to gaze at the beautiful sunset. “I was going to book a sunset cruise, but I wasn’t sure if we’d get here in time for that.”
“Sorry,” I apologise again in a small voice. Although it isn’t Jimin’s intention to make me feel bad, I can’t get over my guilt. I’m sure if the tables were turned, I’d be completely livid with him. So to have him treat me this kindly makes me feel doubly worse. “I don’t know what came over me.” At least that’s the truth. After managing to reign my feelings for Jimin in for so long, to have it all spill in the span of one night was beyond careless. It’s unbelievable.
Lucky for me, Jimin remains mostly oblivious to the whole thing. “It’s okay. I’d be out of sorts too, if my girlfriend did to me what Se Hoon did to you.” Jimin tries to lay his hand on my shoulder, but I move away.
“Your girlfriend?”
“Yeah, I mean, hypothetically.”
“Oh.” My idiocy knows no bounds. I settle down again next to him, trying to play it off like I was just surprised that he had a girlfriend that I didn’t know of. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s had one, but he had always told me about them. It pained me to listen, every single time, but I did anyway, because in a perverse way, I wanted to know about the girls that Jimin is into. Not that any of it matters. Nothing would change the fact that he isn’t interested in me. Even after everything that had transpired last night; after I’d told him that he’d rejected me before I could even tell him how I feel, after that kiss – especially after that kiss – he still doesn’t realise. That’s how little thought he has given to having me as someone more than just a friend. Zero thought. He just thinks that I’m unstable and vulnerable after a bad breakup and is trying to be a good friend. My wandering hand finds a small pebble on the dusty and less than clean jetty, and throws it into the river with all my might. That’s what I need right now. A good friend. Yeah.
All in all, I suppose I have to be grateful. At least things haven’t become awkward between us. I can even almost enjoy the gradual darkening of the sky as the wisps of colour dissipate into the overwhelming dark blues and blacks. Not far behind us, lights from the building next to the jetty battle against the darkness, illuminating the river and trees beyond. “What’s that place?” I wonder aloud.
“A café,” Jimin replies, catching me by surprise. I didn’t expect him to know. Peering at the two-story building curiously, I see waiters seating some customers at a table on the space on the first floor, which is left open to the elements.
“It looks nice.”
“I’m glad you think so.” There is a note of relief in Jimin’s voice. “I booked a table for us, for dinner later.”
“Didn’t we eat just a few hours ago?” Trust Jimin to want to eat again so soon. I can still taste the thick curry on my tongue as I laugh and shake my head at him.
“No, no, you got it all wrong.” He levels his serious gaze at me. “I believe it’s already been a few hours since we last ate.”
Trying not to spray saliva all over him, I curl my lips down in an effort to hold in my mirth. “Is that why we’re here, then?”
“No, actually we – oh! Speak of the devil.” His words are interrupted as our space is invaded by a man who looks like he hasn’t slept in a year. Despite his tired appearance, he’s still all smiles. “Mr. Jimin?” He inquires.
“Yes, that’s me,” Jimin confirms. “I was starting to worry that you’re not coming.”
“Sorry for being late! My wife was supposed to wake me up from my nap, but then between cooking and our son, I was forgotten.” Jimin and I exchange amused glances. Looks like I wasn’t the only one who thought that the man could do with some sleep. “But that’s okay, since it’s just the two of you today, I’d say we’re right on time. Let’s go.”
“Go where?” I whisper to Jimin as the man leads us down the jetty and into a boat, which can easily accommodate at least six people, but will apparently only bring the three of us tonight.
“You’ll see,” Jimin sits next to me and squeezes my hand, determined to not give anything away. If I was told that I’d be getting in a small boat with a stranger in the middle of nowhere, shrouded by the cloak of darkness a few days ago, I’d be alarmed. However, Jimin’s presence changes the experience into an exciting, mysterious adventure.
And we’re off.
The boat glides away from the jetty and the lights of the café, further and further into the ghostly arms of the shadows, barely making any noise. Soon, the river widens, and we can no longer see any signs of civilisation. Only the moon, a whisper away from being full, and the glinting stars offer any glowing relief to the endless blackness, made even darker by the trees lining the riverbank. “These are mangrove trees, called berembang,” our tour guide gestures to the crowding trees clustered together, shielding everything on land from view. I doubt I would be able to see anything but branches and leaves even if we came during the day.
But we’re here at night, and a different sight awaits us.
Our guide steers us close to the riverbank, and stops the boat. “Anytime now,” he informs us cryptically, and I take a look around. What are we supposed to see? With the meagre illumination from the moon and the stars, most of the trees remain in eerie shadows. I silently hope that we’re not on some ghost-hunting expedition. For a split second, I feel panic rising within, but then I remember that there’s no way Jimin would want to go for such an experience either.
Then I see it. A blinking light, so soft and unworldly that I thought I’m seeing things. Before I can pull on Jimin’s shirt to ask him if he saw what I’d seen, I see another small, flickering glow. And another. And another. Suddenly we’re surrounded by them; tiny lights that shine brightly, suddenly from seemingly random locations, making the trees around us glitter like Christmas trees. “Wow!” I whisper in awe.
“Fireflies,” Jimin breathes into my ear, his hushed tone pulling me in against him, unthinkingly wanting to be close to him in such a magical world that we’ve been suspended in. Their light joins the reflection of the stars in the river. Our very own stars on earth. With Jimin’s arm holding me tightly and the ethereal scenery all around us, it’s hard to tell if I’m awake or if I’m in the most amazing dream I’ve ever had. The same gentle light from the fireflies that juxtaposes with the inky blackness of the night also casts an angelic glow over Jimin’s features, taking my breath away. There’s something in the atmosphere that makes me feel closer to him than usual, and that makes the whole experience even more dreamlike. My hand stretches out to touch the marvels of nature, but even if I can reach them, I can’t bear to actually brush against them for fear of hurting such minute, wondrous creatures, or bring myself back to the real world. So we watch them in silence for a while, until the tour guide breaks the moment by asking if we’re ready to go back.
It feels like time has stopped while we were on our journey, but in reality, only about an hour has passed. Part of me wanted to stay there forever, surrounded by glimmering lights, where real life feels so far away. To be with Jimin, just the two of us. The lights from the café next to the jetty, while not exceptionally bright, are jarring in comparison to the gentle twinkling of the fireflies. I almost refuse to get off the boat. However, all good things must come to an end, and I let Jimin help me out of the boat and lead me to the café.
“Are you hungry?” He asks after we’re seated at one of the tables on the open first floor.
“Mmm, not really,” I muse as I thumb through the menu. Majority of the food here is of the western variety, and although I do enjoy it, I’m still full of the prawn from earlier. Mostly I’m eager to hold on to the memories of the boat ride. Irrationally, I’m afraid that having a meal would distract me and cause the warmth of Jimin’s embrace as well as the magic of the fireflies to slip through my fingers.
“Neither am I,” Jimin sighs with regret, clearly wishing that he could fit some more food into his stomach. With an eye roll, I tell him that I’m not surprised – he ate the lion’s share of the prawns, and there was way more than what two people could normally eat. “Maybe we can share a cake.”
“Ooooh, cake!” His suggestion is met with enthusiasm on my part. Although I’m loathe to share my dessert with anyone, Jimin is – a very, very occasional – exception, and my stomach is panicking at the thought of being stuffed with more food, so I relent. The burnt cheesecake we choose makes me regret having to share a little. It’s downright heavenly; I can probably eat all the slices available if I don’t mind the button of my jeans popping right off. Thankfully, Jimin is fuller than I am, and gives up after about two small bites. “Are you sure you don’t want any more?” This is a treat that warrants opening up that extra stomach I know we all have for dessert, but at the same time, I slyly hope that he doesn’t take me up on my offer.
Shaking his head, he gestures for me to finish it. Quick as lightning, I pull the plate towards my side of the table gleefully. Now that I don’t have to share it with anyone, I can take my time to savour it. In my excitement, I don’t sense Jimin’s intent gaze on me until I’m about halfway through the slice. Realising that I must look like a complete and utter glutton, I pause and smile at him sheepishly, trying to wipe off any crumbs as inconspicuously as I can. Trying to cover my embarrassment, my mind races for something to say. “Thank you for such a great day.” I can’t believe I didn’t think about telling him this until now. He must have put a lot of thought into this, and at the last minute, too.
Those words bring the most tender expression I’ve ever seen grace Jimin’s face. My breath stills for a moment to give my brain a chance to process and commit the sight to memory. “Everyone needs to feel loved once in a while, right?” This is the first time I’ve heard him say such a thing so seriously, without it sounding like an off-handed comment. He always makes these sort of statements like it’s an insignificant matter, sometimes literally waving the words away with his hand in the air as he says them. However, the look in his eyes is intense, as if I’m the only thing he can see. It helps his words come across — I do feel very loved. Maybe not in the way I’m hoping from him, but loved nevertheless. At least that’s what I think, until he continues, “And if I could, I want to cherish you always.”
This is the problem I have with Jimin. Biting my tongue to keep from asking him to elaborate his statement, I try to not get my hopes up. He’s forever uttering things that make me feel special, while I know he doesn’t mean anything by them. His rejection from years ago is as clear in my mind as if it happened yesterday. Yet to this day I still can’t get over him, even after being forced to hear the bitter truth ages ago. “Thanks.” Lowering my gaze towards my plate to hide my tears, I stab at the cake. Suddenly the delicious dessert doesn’t look so appealing anymore. “You don’t need to go this far just because you feel bad for me though. I’m a big girl. I can handle a breakup or two.”
My statement, heavily injected with denial, is met with complete silence. Nervously, I lift my head, chancing a glance at him out of curiosity. His soft features have been rearranged to one of... anger? Frustration? He’s taking deep breaths, as if to calm himself down. At the moment, he’s about to burst into a tirade, which occasionally happens when I do something stupid that warrants a scolding from him. But this time, for some reason, he’s trying to hold it in. While I’ve never relished being reprimanded like a child, no matter how much I deserve it, funnily enough, I find myself eager to find out what he’s trying so hard to keep in. “I didn’t do any of this because I feel bad for you,” he grinds out between his teeth — even after cooling down somewhat, he’s unable to completely contain his vexation. If this is his tempered down version, what had he originally meant to say? “It’s only because you’ve broken up that I can do this. I’ve always wanted to indulge you. All the time if I could, but you’ve always had a boyfriend, haven’t you? I didn’t want to cause trouble.”
Okay, this is seriously maddening. How am I supposed to get over him when he frequently sends mixed signals through his words and actions? Sometimes I really want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him hard and demand him to treat me like a friend since he only sees me as one. I like to tell myself that he treats me differently than his other female friends when I watch him interact with them, but I cannot convince myself that this is true. I know I can’t look at them objectively. What if I’m fantasising by myself, fancying that he treats me better, when in reality he behaves similarly towards everyone, and I’m just seeing him with rose-tinted lenses? I really hate myself when I’m like this. When it comes to Jimin, my logic lays down the hard truth mercilessly, but my wishful side can never fully accept it, encouraging me to indulge in useless visions of us together.
Out of reflex more than anything else, I laugh self-deprecatingly. If imagining being with Jimin would bring me the most pain, then I’ll just focus on everything else. Even if that may hurt me as well. Nothing can be as bad as being rejected by him. And thanks to my brain reminding me that he doesn’t want me everytime I fantasise about us, I’ve felt the pain of rejection again and again, even if it’s all replayed memories in my own head. “Being single sucks,” I try to make it out as a joke, stabbing at the cake, picturing Se Hoon’s face there and maiming him repeatedly. It’s nowhere near as satisfying as it would be to do it to the real thing. He’s the reason Jimin is here now, so close to me for such a long duration while I’m single and vulnerable. Fucking Se Hoon. “It just reminds me that I’m not good enough for the guy I really want.”
“That guy must be the stupidest person on Earth,” Jimin quips loyally at once. I keep my head down so he doesn’t see me roll my eyes at his ignorant statement. How can he be so dense? The most devastating moment of my life, doled out by the person I love most, my best friend, and he doesn’t even remember that he was the one who’d said that.
Jimin and I have known each other since we were in kindergarten, but I have no idea how long it has been since I fell in love with him. It’s just one of those emotions that builds up gradually, so subtly that you don’t notice until one day; BAM! You realise that you love him and there’s no turning back. But even back then, before the rejection, we’d grown really close, and I wasn’t sure if it was wise to jeopardise our friendship by coming clean about my romantic feelings for him.
It turned out that my hesitation was for the best, because Jimin made his feelings for me crystal clear in our second year of high school. He doesn’t know that I’m aware of it, though, since I’d heard my name being mentioned by one of his friends as I was approaching, and quietly hid against the wall around the corner to eavesdrop on their conversation.
Jimin’s then-new-girlfriend was with the group, being harassed by one of his friends, Ji Woo. Although I can’t remember who she was, or even her face, I do remember feeling some satisfaction over the fact that Jimin’s friends didn’t like her. It was a feeling that I shared. “I’m surprised you’re with her, Jimin,” Ji Woo had commented, not at all caring that she was right there with them. “When there’s already a perfect girl for you.”
“Really?” Jimin had pressed the button on the vending machine, and I’d heard the loud clanking sound of his drink being dropped into the hatch. “And who is it? Must have walked right by me.”
“He means your best friend, you dumbass,” another one of Jimin’s friends, Ha Rim, had filled him in. His then-girlfriend had made an outraged sound at hearing Jimin’s friends promote me to replace her, but no one other than Jimin seemed to pay her any attention. They were acting like only thin air was present where she stood, which was a good indication of how annoying she was. I never understood what Jimin had seen in her. True, she was extremely pretty, but other than that, she had no redeeming qualities. Peeking out of my corner, I’d seen Jimin rub her shoulder placatingly as he’d chuckled.
He’d said my name in a disbelieving tone, as if the idea of me being his girlfriend was so ridiculous that it was out of this world. The way he’d said it echoed in my mind for many weeks after that. I could still hear it in my head sometimes. “She’s one of us, yeah? You don’t fuck a bro, that’s gross.”
“I don’t know if she’d appreciate you treating her like one of the ‘bros’, Jimin,” Ha Rim had rebuked him gently, but it didn’t change Jimin’s mind. He’d just shrugged, not willing to get into an argument with them.
“Whatever it is, she’s just not girlfriend material.”
I hadn’t stayed to hear anything else after that, since I’d fled from the scene, afraid that my sobs would break out and they would discover me. Since then I’d done everything I could think of to get over him, but nothing had worked. All my boyfriends were just distractions, temporary fixes to the gaping hole in my heart that could never be filled.
“How I wish he knew that,” I say cryptically. A savage laugh bubbles up my throat, hearing Jimin unknowingly call himself stupid, but I refrain myself. My rage over his befuddling attitude still manages to sour the delectable dessert, and I shove down the rest of it. Before the day is completely ruined, it’s better if we return to the hotel.
Being the dense dummy that he is, Jimin doesn’t notice that anything’s amiss, and we get into the car to drive back without incident. The bridge back to the island isn’t too far off from the small town and soon we’re on it once more. “There’s another bridge connecting the island to the mainland, you know,” Jimin breaks the more-or-less comfortable silence with this little tidbit of information.
“I know. You can see it from this bridge.” It makes me look to my right, past Jimin in the direction of the first bridge, just to double-check if I can see it from here. I’m sure I saw it during the day, but it’s a completely different scene now that it’s nighttime. The orange lamps overhead lighting our way along the second bridge are dull, but the same ones appear romantic and beautiful after a stretch of darkness in between the two bridges, illuminating the first bridge. Is the view of the second bridge just as pretty if we were to look at it from the first one? I’m not sure, but I’m content with enjoying the view from here.
“Then do you know that this is the longest bridge in Malaysia?” Jimin’s voice draws my eyes back from the distance to the man being outlined by the scenery I’ve been staring at. Unlike the flickering glow of the fireflies, the bulbs shine relentlessly from afar, never giving up on irradiating Jimin’s face. While not quite the same view, these lights make him look just as dazzling as he had in the boat. A halo of soft backlight, juxtaposing against the night to bathe him in their radiance.
Although I’ve been staring at him like an idiot, or perhaps because I’m proving myself a veritable one, only when he calls my name does it dawn on me that we’re having a conversation. Well, sort of. I’m not really in a chatty mood, but he has been making stabs at sparking up a discussion. “Uh,” I grunt without thinking, then mentally hit myself for pushing myself further down the ‘being a dummy’ road.
“What does that mean?” Jimin laughs, sparing me a quick glance before turning his focus back on the road. The windsocks are blowing merrily in a perpendicular direction to the mostly straight lanes, and Jimin is taking care not to drive too fast. It’s hard for me to ensure that we’re not speeding when there are hardly any cars around to compare our speed to. I can almost believe that Jimin and I are the only ones in this world, on a never-ending road surrounded by the sea. “Do you know or not?”
“No.” My eyes shift away as I answer, since I have no idea what I don’t know. Which is a fair answer – either I didn’t hear what he’d asked me, or I simply got distracted and forgot. Both sounds highly likely. Sensing a risk of him further probing me on whatever topic it is and figuring out that I haven’t been paying attention, I roll down the car window, hoping some fresh air will clear my mind.
Boy, is that a wrong decision. A strong, unrelenting gust of wind immediately blasts into the car. Jimin’s surprised yelp is barely heard over the loud howl from the sea, exacerbated by the speed we’re going at. Before the window has even reached halfway down, I pull the tiny lever the other way, quickly closing it back up.
“What was that?” As soon as soothing quiet fills the car again, Jimin demands to know the reason behind my inexplicable actions. While he doesn’t sound angry, it’s obvious that he’s genuinely concerned. I can’t blame him, after everything that’s been happening since last night. “You’ve been acting really weird.”
My reflection on the window on my side of the car shows a frowning woman with mussed hair chewing nervously on her bottom lip, brows fused together in confusion and frustration. “I feel out of it. But I’m not sure why.” This much is true. After suppressing my feelings for Jimin successfully since I was in school, why are they surfacing now? If I’ve known that we will never end up together for just as long, why is the pain becoming unbearable now? How can one kiss cause my world to implode? The emotional roller coaster has wrung me out and left me completely bewildered. Everything is so jumbled up inside my head that I’m not even sure where to even begin unravelling the mess.
At first Jimin doesn’t respond, which is understandable. I wouldn’t know what to say to such a vague statement either. We eventually reach the other end of the bridge. The scenery morphs from a dreamy wonderland to cold reality, with factories lining up the side of the road, replacing the endless sea. “Who’s that guy?”
“What guy?” This time I’m sure I haven’t been wrapped in my own thoughts, yet I still can’t make the head or tail of whatever Jimin is asking. Maybe I’ve lost all my wits for the second night in a row, even though this time there isn’t a drop of alcohol in me.
“The one that you want,” he clarifies bluntly.
What am I supposed to answer? ‘It’s you, stupid’?
Not wanting to make the rest of the ride more awkward than it is, I shrug. “Just a guy.” Just the kindest, perfect, heart-warming, densest guy.
Up until he parks the car next to the hotel, Jimin attempts to wear down my defenses, unwilling to leave his curiosity unsatisfied since I don’t fly off the handle or directly ask him to stop. Truthfully, the urge to tell him is becoming stronger by the minute. The dam holding my feelings back has become strained without my noticing. Just one more drop of persuasion threatens to loosen my tongue.
After making sure that I’ve gotten out of the car safely and closed the door, he locks the car. However, when he starts walking towards the hotel, I follow him at a much slower pace, lagging behind. Alternating between looking at the ground and his lean back. It doesn’t take long for him to notice that I’m getting farther and farther away from him; my slowing and fainting footsteps are a giveaway. Unsurprisingly, he turns back, wanting to return for me. However, his approach only heightens my nervousness. “Do you really want to know who he is?” I blurt out when he’s about a meter away from me. If he gets any closer, I don’t think I’ll be able to gather the courage to say it.
Thankfully, he stops at my question. Sensing my vulnerability. Like a bewildered, terrified animal, wary of anyone getting closer. “Of course, if you’re okay with sharing with me.”
Before I can change my mind or rethink my decision, I take the plunge. “It’s you.”
“Huh?” Why is he acting shocked? I think angrily, unfairly. He has no right to be surprised by this. This is not supposed to be news to him. “I’m the one? That you’re not good enough for?”
“It’s you, Jimin. You’re the one I want to be with.” Damn it, my voice is already cracking. But now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. All the things I’ve bottled up inside have become hot and angry from the constantly added pressure of being kept secret for so long. At this point, I might hate myself more than I love him. I hate myself because I still love him. “Isn’t it laughable? Even though you already made it clear that I’m not good enough for you from the beginning, I still can’t move on.”
Horrified by the words rushing like waterfall from my mouth, I try to escape, but Jimin catches my arm as I stride past him. I would have stumbled if his grip wasn’t so strong. In contrast to his strength, the street lamp is enough for me to see that all colour has drained from his face. “I would have never said such a thing. When did I say that?” His challenging words come out in an intense whisper, like he can’t believe he ever did such a thing and yet unsure if he hadn’t.
“I don’t know. High school, maybe?” It’s too late but I still play it off as if it isn’t a big deal. Like I don’t remember every detail of that excruciating incident vividly. “I’m not girlfriend material, and you made sure Ji Woo and Ha Rim know that too. And.. someone-or-other girl. Whoever it was you were dating back then. Can’t remember her name.”
I didn’t think it was possible for Jimin to grow paler, but he does, and his hold on me loosens as well. Not wanting to hear an insincere apology years too late, or worse, an encore of how I’m not girlfriend material, I yank myself out of his grasp and practically run into the safety of the building.
Once I’m ensconced in the relative safety of our room, I sit on the edge of the bed and take three deep breaths before panicking. What have I done?! It doesn’t look like Jimin pursued me inside, but he’s going to come in sooner or later. What will I say to him then? How will I ever face him again?
Sighing, I let my body slump dejectedly. I shouldn’t have said anything. Ever. I’ve always known that, but all the pent-up emotions have accumulated for far too long, and under constant continuous stress on this trip, they finally spilled over. And I had to choose the worst time and place to do it — in a foreign country where I have no place to run to. Just as I’m berating myself for that particular bit of foolishness, I hear the outside door to our room open and close. Belatedly realising that I should have searched for a place to hide before agonising over my recent mistakes, I get into a frenzy, whipping my head around every which way, desperately looking for a hole to crawl into.
That’s how Jimin finds me with my arms stretched wide, holding the doors to the wardrobe open, and one of my legs inside the furniture. “Uh.” Not the first time a dumb monosyllable is all I can think of today, but still, way to go.
“What are you doing?” Seeing my crazy antics, Jimin’s tortured expression rearranges into a befuddled one.
“Uhm, nothing.” Climbing out of the furniture, I pretend that I walk out of closets every day of my life. It doesn’t help ease the awkwardness after I close the doors and lean on them, though. I don’t trust myself to not say any more stupid things, and it looks like Jimin doesn’t know what to say either. But he does have something to say, if the way he opens his mouth, pauses, then closes it again is any indication. Seeing this, I keep quiet, waiting for him to figure out where to start. I’m not sure if I’m going to like anything he has to say, but short of jumping out of the balcony, I don’t see any way to escape from him. I cast a longing gaze at the door leading to it, wondering if it’s at all possible.
After what feels like an eternity, Jimin hesitantly hedges, “Uhm, can we… talk?”
I nod, still not trusting my verbal communication skills.
Jimin walks further into the room to take a seat at the edge of the bed, less than two meters from the wardrobe, and I have to fight the urge to distance myself from him. He inhales deeply, loud enough for me to hear, and finally starts. “Look, I’m really sorry about what I said back then. I didn’t even remember that it happened.”
“Of course you didn’t. It didn’t happen to you,” I bite out. Even though I can see that he’s beating himself up over it, I can’t help but drive the nail a little deeper. It has been a wound that has always festered under the surface, never healing.
“You’re right.” Jimin’s ready admission makes me feel slightly bad for being mean over it. “I have no excuse. It was a horrible thing to say. And it wasn’t true at all.”
“It wasn’t?” Damn it, I’m not supposed to be happy about it! Getting my hopes up over just a few vague words is only going to screw me over again, but I can’t stop myself from being elated. Did I mishear him? Did I misunderstand him somehow? So many lessons and I clearly haven’t learnt anything at all.
With a shake of his head, he explains; “Back then I was a dumb kid with raging hormones, and all I could think about was fucking everything that moved. Heh.” He lowers his head and scratches the back of it sheepishly, aware of how immature and shallow he was. Involuntarily, I soften at his words and actions, with his hair getting messy from his vigorous haphazard brushing. “You’ve never been someone that I want to simply fool around with. I might not have been smart enough to realise how special you are back then, but I knew that much. I must have said that to get that girl to go out with me. You, not being good enough for me – that’s ridiculous. If anything, I’m not good enough for you.”
“Oh.” Despite wishing for something like this, now that it has become reality, I can hardly believe it. “So me not being girlfriend material–“
“Was not true at all.” Jimin leans forward to take my right hand, securing it in both of his. He turns up his eyes at me, silently pleading for me to understand. To forgive him. And my defences against Jimin have always been paper-thin. “Is still not true. God.” He hangs his head again in defeat, slightly pulling me towards him as he sags against the bed. “It can’t be more opposite than that. You’re the one I’ve been in love with for the longest time.”
“What?” I try to breathe, but the air is lost somewhere in my lungs.
Instead of answering, Jimin stands up. The sudden movement startles me, especially as it puts him just inches away from me. The warmth is not just from our connected hands now, but I can feel it radiating from his whole body in the coolness of the air-conditioned room. His words coupled with his nearness make me even hotter – probably even more than the scorching outdoors in Penang during the day. When he reaches up to softly caress the side of my face, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I can’t be sure that I haven’t self-combusted. “You’ve become more than my best friend for ages. I might have even loved you since we were in school. Hell, I don’t know.” Taking another step forward, he closes the little distance left between us to lean his head against my shoulder. Facing this completely unexpected progress, I stand there stiffly, not knowing what else to do except trying not to lose my head. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but you’ve always had a boyfriend hanging around. Every time I swore I’d tell you once you broke up, but before I could work up the courage to say anything you’ve already found a new one. You never considered me, so I thought you just didn’t think of me that way. I guess I know why now.” Lifting his head, he stares into my eyes earnestly. I can’t look away even if I wanted to. His face is etched with regret, and yet I can see hope buried in his eyes. It mirrors the hope I’ve always felt. I just didn’t know that he felt the same way. “I’m really sorry for being a dick.”
A bubble of horrified laughter bursts out at hearing him describe himself as such. Trust Jimin to mend my bruised heart so easily, and break such a heavy moment by sort-of-playfully bashing himself. He deserves it, but now knowing that I’ve put him through similar anguish, I can’t stay mad at him for long. “It’s okay,” I say with a teary smile.
“Well, the cat’s out of the bag now. I love you.” He cocks his head, then asks, “You’re single now, right?”
Another string of gleeful laughter fills the room. “I am,” I confirm.
“Would you do me the honour of being my girlfriend, then?”
“I would.”
“Finally,” he sighs in relief, and my next round of giggles is lost somewhere between our lips as Jimin kisses me. If our first kiss was incredible, this one is a hundred times better. With no more doubts plaguing my mind, I can give all of myself into my love for Jimin. Just as he’s giving to me. At first he cups my face in his hands, tilting his head to deepen our kiss. In the hazy air of passion, it’s unclear who started to open up beyond the joining of our lips. I know he traced the line between my lips at some point, but I also sucked on his full bottom lip that has always, always caught my attention. Among his many flattering features, it’s the one that has always struck me as striking. A guy shouldn’t have such seductive, plump lips that no woman can resist.
Soon his hand is pressing me to him from the nape of my neck, like I’m not close enough to him. He needs to bring me closer. Our tongues dance with each other, within our mouths like they’re dark, dangerous ballrooms, before things get more intense, and these caverns morph into wet, sweaty arenas, where we wrestle out our lust. In a match that is a win-win for both players, where the energy only heightens, never ending. The palm covering my cheek moves so his arm can wrap against my waist, crushing me against him. Every part of my body is touching his, sending tremors of excitement from outside in. I huff against his mouth, out of breath, but past caring. I just want Jimin. More of him. All of him. And then some more.
From the looks of things, Jimin doesn’t want to let me go either. A tell-tale bulge is impossible to miss, but when I feel it pressing against me, a modicum of sense nudges against my muggy brain. Regretfully breaking the kiss, I pant out, “We should… take… a shower,” in between fighting my lungs for air.
Jimin’s groan ends in a whine that usually gets him what he wants. “Do we have to?”
“We should. I’m all sweaty.” Being outside most of the day has left me sticky. It’s one of those things that you can’t forget or ignore once you’ve noticed it, and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable. What’s going to transpire between Jimin and I is a no-brainer, and I don’t want my first time with him to be when I’m smelling of sweat.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to sweat either way.” Unwilling to stop for something as trivial as cleaning up when we’re bound to get dirty again, Jimin slips his hand under my shirt, attempting to get me to agree with him.
However, I will not be deterred, even if my moan at his palm stroking the side of my body doesn’t sound very convincing. “Please, Jimin. It would make me feel better.”
This time Jimin’s groan is one of defeat. “Fine.” Honestly, I’m surprised that he relented so easily. I never really noticed how much he normally gives up for me. Perhaps I only notice when he’s whining like a child on the occasions where he really doesn’t want to give in, so I thought that he always gets his way. But if I really stop to think about it, he rarely pulls such an act – most of the time he actually listens to what I want, or outright asks me, and goes along with whatever I wish. Heart swelling with renewed affection, I nod without hesitation when he tugs against the hem of my shirt. “May I?”
Baring the tops of my breasts by removing my shirt, he can’t seem to stop himself from ogling them in my bra. Pushing so my back is against the closet, he dips his mouth against the skin available to him as his fingers fiddle with the clasp of my bra. Once the garment is loosened, he all but pulls it off, tossing to the floor, so he can move on to my nipples. “Jimin!” My cry for him is from pleasure, but he mistakes it as a warning.
“Just… for a little bit.” My right nipple pucker under the ministrations of his tongue, growing stiff more quickly than it takes for him to unbutton and unzip my jeans, dragging them onto the floor with my panties. It’s all happening so fast. I haven’t even processed the fact that I’m now completely naked before him, in the dimness of the room filled only by a lone lamp in the corner I’d switched on when I came in. He slips his knee between my legs, spreading them apart. What his words cannot achieve; lowering my defenses, is being threatened by the difference between the texture of his jeans and the smoothness of my bare legs.
And Jimin, that devil, knows this very well. Propping his leg up against the sturdy wooden wardrobe, he brings it into contact with my exposed center. The friction draws a moan from me instantly, and without prompting, I begin to rub against him like a deranged nymphomaniac, seeking traction from the rough material against my pussy. He hasn’t even touched me there, yet I’m already wet enough to lubricate my movements against his muscular thigh. Each stroke stimulates countless sparks that shakes my body like electricity. I know I should stop, but I can’t. Latching on to his upper arms, I lift my head up to look at him imploringly. “Jimin… please.” Right now I’m not even sure what I’m asking from him.
There must be something on my face that makes him look at me with blazing fire in his eyes, before swooping down to brand another soul-searing kiss on my lips. How am I supposed to hold myself back when he’s holding me so closely, when his hard muscles encourage me to move my hips even faster, when he takes my lips like he wants to inhale my very soul into his body? It hasn’t taken much, but I’m already trembling with my impending orgasm. “Fuck,” Jimin spits out, abruptly wrenching himself away from me. My feet land flat against the floor as I howl in protest at having my high yanked away from me.
He doesn’t listen to my objections. Instead he grabs my hand and pulls me in the direction of the bathroom, his free one working furiously to tear his own clothes off. His haste almost makes him trip at the threshold of the bathroom as he attempts to step out of his jeans. My horrified chuckle at this is met with an impatient, don’t-you-dare-laugh glare, which makes it even harder to hold back my mirth.
“Get in,” he growls so ferociously that I stumble backwards, laughter gulped down as my body follows the motion of his chin. Predatory eyes burn holes along my body, suddenly making me self-conscious of my nakedness, but not for long. My own gaze is fixed on him as he moves forward, the clumsiness from a second ago replaced by panther-like steps, only pausing to take off his underwear in a far smoother move than he did his jeans. For the second time, I gulp; on my saliva this time, upon seeing his erection spring out from its confines. While his length looks average, his girth has me excited and apprehensive at the same time. He steps into the glass cubicle, backing me up against the wall, and closes the door separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom behind him. The shower is spacious enough for two people to fit comfortably inside, yet I somehow find myself cornered like a trapped animal. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asks edgily. “You wanted to shower, didn’t you?” He reaches around me to turn it on.
A stream of cold water hitting my skin makes me gasp, forming goose bumps that are soothed away once it warms to the temperature that Jimin has set. As incensed as I am by the unexpected shift in our relationship and Jimin’s enthusiasm, I’m comforted by having the grime and sweat of the day being washed away.
Jimin’s mind isn’t as easily distracted though. Pressing me up against the wall facing the shower head, he envelops my lips in another fervent kiss. I’m more than happy to give in to it, wrapping my arms around his neck, but instead of holding me, he extends his reach towards the soap, pumping a generous amount of viscous liquid into his palm. “Looks like I’m going to have to help you wash if I want to move things along,” he mutters against my lips.
His soapy palms move slowly down, from my neck, branching outwards along my clavicles then dip down to cup my breasts. My breathing grows heavy as he massages them. Moans start forming in the back of my throat when he begins paying attention to my nipples, flicking them almost playfully with his thumbs. He doesn’t remain there long enough for me, one of his hands continuing down my stomach to the apex of my thighs. “Funny, I’d say it’s wetter here than my whole body.” He rubs his fingers against my folds, as if inspecting them. I can’t argue; even though most of the shower water is hitting his back, my pussy is arguably wetter than he is, and I’m pretty sure it’s not from the pipes.
Without warning, Jimin pushes his index finger in, eliciting a startled gasp from me. “So wet,” he crows delightedly at how easily it slips in. “Do you think you can fit another one in here?” He doesn’t wait for my response before cramming another finger in, making me whimper in pleasure. “You like how it feels?” I nod, turning my face away in embarrassment. It doesn’t deter Jimin. He simply whispers in my exposed ear, “You want me to fuck you with my fingers?”
Yes. I want it so badly, yet to say the words is mortifying, so I nod again. Jimin tsk-tsks disapprovingly at my refusal to vocalise my answer. “Communication is key to a relationship, you know,” he teases, pushing his fingers in up to his knuckles, but refusing to move them any more. “How am I supposed to know what you want if you won’t tell me?”
This cruelly taunting side of Jimin is new to me. I can’t say that I hate it. Not when it’s turning me on so much. “Please Jimin,” I plead with him. “Fuck me with your fingers.”
Tilting his head to the side, Jimin puts on a show of considering my plea. Then he shakes his head, and I know that he never intended to do it in the first place. “No, I don’t think I will.” Leaning forward, he nibbles at my earlobe, telling me, “I’d rather taste you instead.”
Getting the full brunt of the jet of water from the shower when Jimin suddenly kneels at my feet, I sputter in surprise. Jimin uses my momentary confusion to spread my legs even further apart so he can bury his face between them. “Oh!” My hands fly to grasp at his wet hair, holding on for dear life as he goes all out from the get-go. Easily capturing my clit between his lips, he sucks hard, making my knees buckle and my previously unfulfilled orgasm rush back with a vengeance. “Jimin!!” He’s relentlessly alternating between flicking the tiny bud with the tip of his tongue and trying to suck it right off, and I can’t withstand his attack. Flick, flick, flick. And then suck, as hard as he can. In less than a minute I’ve lost completely, making him bear my weight as I cum violently. If he isn’t holding me up by the waist, I probably would’ve collapsed, maybe even slipped in the wet cubicle. Without missing a beat, he releases my clit to run his tongue along my slit, lapping up every drop of his victorious spoils and prolonging my orgasm.
Standing up, he maintains his hold on me, which I appreciate because I still don’t trust the strength of my legs. “You okay?” I can barely register his question in the hazy aftermath of my orgasm, but I manage to nod. Jimin pumps more soap to wash me with as I recover, then swiftly washes himself. Once he determines that both of us are clean enough, he turns the water off. “Can we go now?” He asks, wrapping his arms around me so he can rub his dick, which has grown slightly soft, against my belly. It’s unfair that he’s pushing his advantage like that. Just doing this is getting me aroused again.
As much as I want to get out as soon as we can, there is unfortunately one thing that we need to do first. “Jimin, we should dry our hair. Otherwise we’ll catch a chill.”
Relenting after letting out only one dissatisfied huff indicates that he agrees with me. It doesn’t mean that he’s happy with it. I smother a smile at his adorable childishness, which is a stark contrast to what he was just doing to me in the shower, and what he wants to skip all these small details to do to me in bed. By the time I’ve wrapped myself in a towel, he’s already by the socket next to the sink, hair dryer in hand. “Hurry, hurry,” he urges, pointing the device on full blast to my face.
“Ooof!” Instinctively squeezing my eyes shut to protect them from the powerful gust of warm air, I blindly swipe in his direction, hoping to smack Jimin for his immature prank and the mischievous guffawing that comes with it. Once Jimin directs the nozzle back towards his own hair and out of my face, I fix him a glare, which he returns with a Cheshire grin. He rakes his fingers through his hair roughly, anxious to be done with it. Sure enough, he finishes in record time. “Come on, let’s do you.” He tries to turn me around, but I refuse the offer, giving his messy job, with soft strands sticking up every which way, a pointed look.
“I’ll do it myself, thanks.”
Wisely deciding that handing me the hair dryer will be quicker than trying to argue with me, he relents. Then he leans against the wall next to the sink. With only a towel around his waist, looking like he has all the time in the world to just watch me do something as mundane as drying my hair. I turn towards the mirror, mentally instructing my eyes not to look at him. However, they’re not keen to follow orders, and flick towards his reflection every few seconds. It’s impossible for me to calm myself down like this. Especially not when I can see the obvious tent in his towel, threatening to part the cloth that’s barely covering him. It must have grown harder from the friction against my stomach just now, as well as the anticipation of what’s to come.
“You can go ahead and wait outside.”
“Eh?” He starts to protest but stops when he sees my entreating look. “Okay,” he yields in a wounded puppy pitch. “But hurry, okay?”
I nod, only turning towards the mirror again after I see him closing the door to the bathroom. I’m glad that he’s giving me this bit of space to think. Even though I’m ecstatic by this turn of events, there’s so much to process that it’s overwhelming. And I’m hesitant to go all the way with Jimin without sorting it out. To me it’s a monumental thing. A really huge step. My sigh is drowned out by the loud whirring of the hair dryer, but the sound has become white noise.
So the incident that has plagued me for so many years turned out to be a misunderstanding. While it doesn’t excuse Jimin from what he’d said, there was never any truth behind those words. It had always baffled me that Jimin would think, much less say, such a thing. Even if he wasn’t interested in me, it doesn’t seem to be in line with Jimin’s personality to measure a girl’s worth so much as to label her something as horrid as ‘not girlfriend material’. The most is he’d think someone isn’t his type, and just move on. He’s one of the kindest people I know, but he isn’t perfect. I’m aware of that. We were young back then. It makes more sense that Jimin was only thinking about getting a girl in bed with him rather than weighing the consequences or fairness of saying something so hurtful.
Switching the electric device off, I gaze at myself in the mirror one last time, finding resolution. What matters now is the future. Am I ready to go forward?
The first thing I notice when I enter the bedroom is that Jimin has gathered all the pillows on his side of the bed, and is resting against them. Before I can wonder what he’s up to, he notices my presence and sits up, like a puppy waiting for his master to come home. It would have been heart-meltingly cute and endearing if he wasn’t gripping his erection in his right hand. Was he masturbating while waiting for me? The thought of it is more arousing than I’d have thought. Maybe there is something wrong with me. “Come here,” he beckons me over, and I approach him a little warily. He helps me atop the bed, manoeuvring my legs so I sit astride his lap.
This puts me face-to-face with him, but more importantly, he’s holding me so I’m sitting right atop his cock. I can predict a very speedy loss in focus. “Jimin,” I begin to ask, then moan when he grinds his hips against mine. “Jimin, are you sure about this?”
“A hundred and ten percent,” he responds, but his attention isn’t on me. Even in the semi-darkness, I can see his eyes are narrowed in the direction of our lower bodies.
Exasperated, I try again, wanting to make myself clear before anything happens that I may regret later. Damn, I’m cockblocking myself, but I know that I’ll be in a world of hurt if this turns out to be a temporary thing. I may be asking for too much, but I can’t do it. Not with Jimin. “No, not just this. I mean… are you sure about… going into a relationship with me? What if…”
Jimin looks up, his expression turning serious, and places a finger against my lips. “Stop that. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I think I know you pretty well.” He briefly stops, waiting for confirmation, and I nod. No one knows me better than Jimin does. “You always overthink things, and when you’re not doing that, your head is filled with thoughts of food.” Even though his assessment is accurate, it doesn’t stop me from hitting him in the chest indignantly, but he only chortles. “It doesn’t matter what you lack. I still love you after all this time, and I’m confident that I won’t stop, no matter what happens. And about what I said back then…” Adopting a sober mien, he brushes my cheek lovingly, leaning closer to gaze into my eyes intently. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for it. Okay?”
“Okay,” I concede tearfully. There’s no one else who can put me at ease so easily. I wouldn’t say that the years-old scar has magically healed, but his touch soothes away all the pain. Closing the scant centimeters between us, I give him a quick peck. An innocent move, which Jimin changes immediately by drawing me into his arms, pulling me back in for a far more intense kiss. He pulls on my towel, already loosened by my movements, exposing my body to his touch. It’s like there’s fire in his fingertips, setting me aflame wherever he touches – from my hip, to the side of my waist, up to my breasts. Devilishly zoning in on my sensitive spots, sweeping back and forth over the stiffening tips of my chest. All night he has been giving me pleasure, and I want to return the favour.
Ignoring both the loss of the heady sensation from being in contact with his cock and Jimin’s growl of protest, I shift myself down towards the foot of the bed. Taking his half-hard erection in my hand, once again I marvel at its girth. Already I can’t wrap my hand completely around it. The thought of having it inside me is making me shiver in anticipation. Wanting to get a feel of it, I slide my hand up from the base, taking care not to be too rough with my dry hand. It’s enough to get Jimin to moan, the wild yet melodic sound instantly heating up my insides with lust. I want to make him feel good. I move down even further, lowering myself to do just that, but Jimin stops me halfway. “Wait.”
Surprised that he would keep me from sucking him off, I glance up at him, tucking my hair behind my ear so that it doesn’t obstruct my view. “Hmm?”
“Plenty of time for that later,” he exhales restlessly. Grabbing me by my waist, he lifts me up slightly, getting me off of him. Then he wiggles down the space between me and the mattress, comically moving to lie down on his back. It’s hard not to snort all over him.
“What are you doing?” Just how many times is he going to make me laugh while we try to get it on tonight?
“Getting what I want,” he pants, and I’m guessing it’s due to the exertion of his completely unnecessary action rather than being horny. Jimin is such an idiot sometimes. He ignores my eye roll though. “More importantly, are you ready for me?”
Instead of waiting for me to formulate a verbal answer, he reaches down to find the answer for himself. I jolt forward with a moan when Jimin swipes his fingers over my slit, then immediately rams two inside me. I’m sure I dried myself off after getting out of the shower earlier, but somehow I’ve gotten wet enough for his digits to slide into me without much resistance. “So wet already,” Jimin answers for me, even though the mortifying squelching sounds coming from my pussy makes it pretty clear that I’m ready for him. “I want to fuck you. Right now.”
Even though Jimin’s fingers are wrecking the best kind of havoc in me, I want the same thing. More than that, I want to make him feel good too. Before I can put my plan into action though, Jimin slaps the bed angrily. “Shit. I’m clean, but I don’t have a condom.” Scowling, he runs his fingers through his hair angrily, following it with a longer string of curses than I’ve ever heard him utter in my presence. I bite the insides of my cheeks so I can swallow the bubble of laughter back into my throat.
“It’s fine,” I reassure him. “I’m on the pill.” Although I haven’t slept with Se Hoon for ages, I kept taking them. Maybe I’ve continued doing so out of habit. Or maybe I was always unconsciously hoping for something to happen between me and Jimin, as far fetched as it seemed. Well, it’s clearly not as impossible as I’d thought.
“Thank goodness,” Jimin collapses back onto the sheets in relief, amusing me to no end. He doesn’t miss it, and shoots me a look that tells me he’s aware that I’m finding him funny. “I don’t think I can hold back at this point,” he warns me darkly, and I take it as a cue to continue. Bracing my hands on his chest, I sit up shakily. Reading my mind like he always does so expertly, he removes his hand so I can move my hips along the length of his dick. Up and down, up and down, covering him in my juices. I don’t know how he became this hard when I’ve barely done anything for him. But I’ll pleasure both of us now. Lining the tip of his cock with my pussy, I take a deep breath as I feel the bulbous head poking against my entrance. Then I face up to find that Jimin is staring at me with such scorching fire that I can feel my skin blister from the heat. He might just want this more than I do, although I can’t imagine a yearning any stronger than mine.
“Hnng,” I groan as I lower myself down slowly. Belatedly I attempt to figure out the last time I had sex in my head. Even before breaking up, Se Hoon and I hadn’t slept together for a while due to our busy schedules. I didn’t think much of it back then, and had thought that he didn’t mind, either. It turns out that he didn’t mind, but only because he was satisfying his urges with someone else. But I don’t want to think about that now. Not when Jimin’s cock is parting my flesh, its girth pushing my walls aside to make its way in. It’s not even halfway in yet I’m already breathless. The burn feels amazing, even if it’s making me mewl from the pain.
“Does it hurt?” Jimin asks through gritted teeth. “Go slowly.”
Unable to voice an answer, I bob my head in acknowledgement. Taking my time descending on Jimin magnifies the sensation of his cock stretching me out. By the time I’ve sheathed myself over him completely, I feel ready to burst. I’ve never felt so full and I tilt my head back as if to absorb the feeling. But I’m not the only one adjusting to this. Jimin’s grip on either side of my waist is slightly painful, betraying a strength that I wasn’t aware he possesses. “Fuck, so tight,” he grinds out like he can hardly stand the pleasure. “Fuck.”
After giving myself a few seconds to get used to having him inside me, I begin to lift myself up again, then sit back down on him, making both of us groan. I don’t know if I can ever get used to this. Still, I repeat the motion, impaling myself over and over his cock, hips accelerating as I get a sense of the rhythm. Jimin’s unconcealed moans spur me on; knowing how good I’m making me feel drives me to take it higher. But I’m not the only one determined to bring pleasure to my partner.
Even as I bounce on his cock, Jimin manages to reach for my clit, capturing it between his index and middle fingers in a ‘V’. Helped by my rapid movements, he pulls up, exposing my clit to the air. Tongue licking his lips, he looks at it like a delicacy that he’d love to devour. However, unable to do that, he makes do with his thumb. He alternates moving it in circular motions around the nub and grinding against it, all the while pinching it with his other two fingers. My hips stutter from his ministrations, but I don’t want to stop. I can’t, even if I wanted to. Not when he’s stimulating me like this. But I can feel the end approaching me rapidly, faster than I want it to. “Ji—Jimin, wait.”
I should’ve known that he’s not going to do as I say this time. “Give me a good reason to wait,” he challenges.
“I can’t take it.” My body is already shaking from its proximity. I’m about to crest the high, but I want to last longer. “Please, Jimin, or I’m going to come.”
“All the more reason for me not to wait, then.” Jimin takes my reasoning and tosses it out the window. In direct contrast to my request, he teases my clit even more, pushing me forward so I can’t stall it any longer. The knot growing inside me shrinks into itself, compressing impossibly before exploding like fireworks. With a cry of his name, I catch myself from collapsing completely on top of him by bracing my hands on either side of his torso. Jimin releases my clit to grab my waist, pushing me down against him, moaning as he feels my muscles contracting around him. “You’re so sensitive,” he remarks as I start to recover.
There’s nothing I can say to his comment. There’s nothing to say, really. I don’t recall ever being this receptive to someone else’s touch. It has been a while, I think, not wanting to admit that my sensitivity might have been caused by the person touching me, rather than the duration I’ve been deprived of such attention. Burying my face into the crook of Jimin’s shoulder, I inhale his scent; the perfect home to come to after falling down from my high. The realisation that I must be crushing him with my weight comes suddenly. I jolt up to move off of him, but he tightens his hold on my waist, halting me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Uh, I must be heavy, and I–“ Jimin doesn’t give me the time to inform him that I can barely move, returning me back into place right above him and whispering;
“I’m not done yet.”
Digging his fingers in so deep I’m sure he’ll leave me with bruises, he pulls out of me, all the way to the tip. My sigh at the loss becomes a shriek midway when Jimin slams back all the way in without so much as a warning. He doesn’t stop there; in fact, that’s the speed that he’s setting for me. Pounding into me from underneath without mercy, without hesitation, without pause. My relaxed legs quickly grow tense again, as his rapid thrusting stokes a new fire in me. “Jimin, Jimin!” I call out for him in between gasps, every thrust knocking the air out of my lungs and every shred of intelligible thought out of my head, until his name is all that remains. My feet curl inwards, trying to withstand the pleasure but in futility. If he isn’t gripping me so firmly, I would have ended up sprawled over him. However, I have nowhere to run. Forced to take every single one of his hard thrusts. Each one making my lower body wrap tighter and tighter around him.
“Close.” Out of breath, Jimin manages to utter only one word, but he slips a hand between our bodies, closer now that I’ve crumpled over him under his rough pounding, leaving no question as to what he means when he pinches my clit between his fingers again. My body contracts until there’s no space left, and I can’t breathe. Whether my brain is hazy due to the lack of oxygen or because I’m on the verge of cumming, I don’t know. One moment later I climaxing again. Jimin doesn’t need to be told that; my cries of ecstasy and squeezing walls are enough to clue him in. He wraps an arm around my waist and seizes my right shoulder, holding me even more securely in place as his hips accelerates to a speed beyond my imagination. Panting and moaning, I latch onto his shoulders so I can receive his rough thrusts, each one knocking me several inches upwards. Unlike before, Jimin doesn’t give me time to recover, too focused on using my tightening muscles spasming around his cock to reach his own high.
It doesn’t take long, but I’ve regained enough sense of mind to register him sinking his face against my neck as he comes. Each of his grunts accompanying every deliberate, deep thrust, pumping his seed into me is so close to my ear, I can feel the hot air that comes with them. There is an odd feeling of being the one to comfort him as his body quakes. It’s like he trusts me to keep him safe at his most vulnerable, and I immerse myself in the feeling proudly for a while.
By the time Jimin rolls me over to the side, I’m starting to get drowsy. My legs twitch when his limp dick slips out a little, and my eyes flutter open to find that he’s staring at me. “What is it?” Absurdly, I feel a little shy. This is just Jimin after all. On the other hand, I’ve never been with Jimin like this before.
“Nothing. I just can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”
The relatable statement makes me grin. “I know. Me too.”
“It seems like such a waste to just… go to sleep.”
No way. “What do you mean?”
“You know, just…” He shrugs with all the innocence of a toddler, but it doesn’t fool me for one second. Especially when he nuzzles against my neck, then almost immediately switches to kissing and sucking the sensitive flesh. A pressure within makes me moan, feeling myself getting fuller as Jimin grows hard again. “I spent four nights in bed with you and I couldn’t even touch you. Do you know how difficult that was? I was about to go insane.”
The dawn of the following morning is slightly chilly, but that’s what makes it refreshing. Even though I greet the day with a yawn as I rest my forearms against the railing of the balcony, I’m feeling very content and reinvigorated. A light mist shrouding the garden before me gives it a cool, dream-like quality. Each plant has bountiful leaves – it’s always summer in Malaysia, after all – and each one is heavy with morning dew. I wish I could reach and touch the moisture with my fingers.
With time, my brain starts to function more efficiently, and I begin to think about the events of last night. Of course I’m ecstatic about finally being in a romantic relationship with Jimin, the man that I’ve been pining over for so long, but I’d be lying if I say that I don’t have any doubts. I’ve been so focused on getting over him that I never stopped to think what it would mean to have my best friend as my boyfriend. The obvious question is: what if it doesn’t work out between us?
Like Jimin said last night, he has known me for many years now. There aren’t many flaws of mine that he isn’t aware of. I’m quite confident that I know most of the things I need to know about him too. And just like Jimin, none of it has made me fall out of love with him. If anything, his imperfections make me love him even more. I can’t think of any reason that would make us break up, but it’s always a possibility. What would happen to our friendship should the worst come to pass? I hope we can still be friends somehow.
Just the thought of it is depressing enough to make me heave a sigh. There’s no point in speculating about the future. I already know that I can barely endure not being with him. It was torture to watch him with girlfriends when I so desperately, so selfishly wanted to fill that role. Now that my wish has come true, we just have to go forward and do our best. If it doesn’t work out, then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m not delusional enough to think that everything will be perfect from now on, but I hope for every rainy day we have to suffer through, there will be a sunny one that will balance it out. Smiling to myself, I enjoy this blissful feeling I never knew I’m capable of feeling. With Jimin, I’m sure my life will be full of happy days, like an eternal summer.
“What’s up with you?” A teasing, rhetorical question comes from behind, making me jump in surprise. I turn around to find Jimin leaning against the frame of the glass door, looking cool as a cucumber. But I see the laughter dancing in his eyes. “One second you were sighing, and the next you were grinning like an idiot.”
Feeling blood rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment at being caught entertaining my thoughts, I spin back to face the garden. “Nothing! How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to want to get a closer look at you.” Jimin approaches and hugs me from behind. He wastes no time sniffing against my neck like a little puppy. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mmhmm.” How could I not? After that second round, I was ready to nod off, but he’d recovered by then and had asked me if he could take me up on that earlier offer to give him a blowjob. How could I say no? And he wasn’t content to finish up in my mouth, either – no, he wasn’t as rough as he was the first time, but he still finished inside me. It left me exhausted and I went out like a light afterwards. I’m not sure what made me wake up so early, but I do feel well-rested, though quite sore.
“I’m glad.” I can feel and hear him smiling against my ear rather than see it. Although I’m not sure if he’s glad because I’ve gotten enough rest, or because the stiff shaft I can feel pressing against my back needs some attention. Given that he’s already tracing the crevices of my ear with his tongue, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re a monster.” My complaint doesn’t sound very convincing since it’s followed by a keening moan. He’s quick to slide his hand up my thighs and under my bathrobe, discovering that I’m not wearing anything underneath. His sharp inhale lets me know how aroused he got from that revelation.
“I’m not usually this horny,” he admits, leaning me down to rest my upper body against the railing so my ass juts out. I can hear the shuffling of his slippers as he moves back, but before I can turn around to see what he’s doing, I feel his tongue running all the way from the bottom up to my asshole. My back arches from the unexpected jolt of pleasure, hitting me like a bolt of lightning down my spine. “Maybe we need to make up for… what, a decade’s worth of love-making?” Despite being sore, my pussy clenches at the ridiculous notion. A whole decade? “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” The loud, wet sounds his tongue makes as he laps against my slit doesn’t leave me any room to argue. I only let out a whine when he reaches around to press against my engorged nub. “You’re swollen,” he says concernedly, contrasting with his unrelenting ministrations. “Are you okay?”
“If you’re worried–mmmnn–“ Against my better judgement, I push myself back against his mouth, craving for more. “Why are you doing this?”
Jimin’s reply is lost somewhere within my folds, but once his tongue pushes past my entrance, I stop caring about his answer. It’s amazing how easily Jimin unearths my most sensitive spots. Not just how putting pressure against my clit stimulates me more than circular motions, but also how a feather-like touch along the side of my body makes me tremble or that lightly nibbling my nipples makes me buck beneath him. However, a night of thorough attention has made all of me super sensitive, and I’m already on the verge of tears while my head is screaming for more. “Jimin, please,” I beg. “I need you now.”
Those words are all the encouragement that Jimin needs. Standing behind me, he lifts the lower part of the bathrobe up so he can press his insistent hard-on against my entrance. “No, wait, Jimin.” Remembering where we are right now, I begin to panic. “Let’s go inside.”
Of course, Jimin has never been one to listen to orders. “No one’s up yet,” he overrides my protest, and cuts off any oncoming ones by slamming his hips against mine, pushing his thick cock all the way inside in one stroke. Tears fall from my eyes and my scream breaks the stillness of the morning at the brutal insertion. “Shh,” he comforts me, raining kisses all over the side of my neck and shoulders as I sob. “Someone will hear us if you don’t keep it down.”
“Damn it, Jimin, you’re the meanest – ah! Ah!” I can’t even finish reprimanding him. How can I, when my body reacts to him so easily, and the fact that anyone passing by can see us, or other hotel guests can hear us turns me on even more? Taking a little mercy on me, Jimin grabs my chin, directing me to look back so he can kiss me, somewhat effectively swallowing my moans. The intense kiss matches the force of his thrusts below; slower than last night but with more strength. He lowers his hand to slip it inside my bathrobe, groping my left breast, using it as an anchor as his cock drives me to oblivion. Everything he does intoxicates me, making me drunk to the point I don’t know up and down, so that I no longer give a damn about anyone seeing him pounding into me in broad daylight. All I can think about is the tingling sparks of friction from every stroke of his cock sliding in and out of me, the tiny pinpricks of pleasure and pain like scorching embers feeding a bonfire growing more and more out of control within me. “Jimin,” I gasp when he releases my lips for air, “coming.”
He kisses me, then pulls at my lower lip. “Come,” he coaxes me with his fingers pinching my nipple, making me mewl, and with the short words his brain can muster in his state. “With me. Now.”
After several hard thrusts, Jimin brings me to my climax and follows me right after. He holds me tightly, supporting me so my shaking legs don’t suddenly give way from under me, although I can tell from his quivering body that he’s having trouble keeping himself up. The sturdy railing provides the support we both need, and we cling to it as we catch our breaths. A few minutes later, we’re still panting, but Jimin slowly sits down on the floor, guiding me to sit across his lap. I’ve hugged Jimin countless times before when we were still just friends, but I think after sex might be the best time for cuddling with him.
His comforting arms almost lulls me to sleep, but the gradually escalating heat of the rising sun brings me back to my senses. Opening my eyes, I ask drowsily, “What time is it?”
Jimin shrugs. “Who knows.”
Resisting the urge to follow his devil-may-care attitude, I climb out of his lap to crawl towards the table where I’d left my handphone. My eyes widen when I see the numbers on display. “Jimin! There’s less than three hours before our flight! We need to go, now!”
We get ready and packed in record time. Soon we’re begging our driver to drive us as quickly as possible to the airport, both of us still huffing and panting, but this time for a completely different reason compared to this morning. The young driver shakes his head in disapproval, but accedes to our wishes, driving at a speed I’m not sure is legal, expertly zipping in and out between cars. We earn a few honks, but I try to detach myself from the chaos, leaning back against the seat to try and calm my racing heartbeat.
“This is all your fault, you pervy animal,” I hiss at Jimin under my breath. “If we can’t board our plane you’re going to pay for both our tickets back home.”
Jimin’s smirk is charming and utterly unrepentant. “Worth it.”
Thank you for reading! As always, comments/asks/likes are very welcome :)
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First Officially-Sanctioned Chaldean Pokémon Matches?
The stage was set. One Shinx, one Cyndaquil. Nobu stood on her side of the field, glancing at all of the different parts of the UI that were somehow visible to her.
Okay, she thought to herself, so things work... so differently here than in the games. The level cap got smooshed to 20, and the stats are... are those D&D stats? Wait, are—
"Shingen, use Thunder Fang!"
"Wha—"
Nobu watched as her Cyndaquil narrowly avoided the attack. "That's— ugh, Papiyas, Flame Burst!"
The Shinx seemed to dodge out of the way, but it's HP bar shrank by a marginal amount. Right, DEX saves, half damage anyway. Cool! Even if we keep missing, we'll wear it down eventually. Hold on, its name is Shingen!? This is just like—
"Thunder Fang!!"
Critical hit. Papiyas's HP dropped straight into the red. ...This girl is too powerful. Someone please nerf her.
—————
Jeanne walked down the hall, a strange device in her hand. She just got back from her last search for Yume, which was... less than successful.
"She better still be out there..." She murmured to herself. "Something's coming. Something big. I can feel it."
Suddenly she heard noises coming from the cafeteria. "...Weird, it hasn't been this loud this late at night since—"
Before she knew it, she was forcing the door open, only to look upon an unconscious Cyndaquil and a very triumphant-looking Shinx. "......oh."
"Ah, Dragon Witch! Care to join us? I'd say Shingen is on fire, but I think he just got done putting it out!"
"Oooooh..." Nobu whapped the back of Okita's head. She coughed.
Jeanne just stared at Kagetora. "...You realize this wouldn't end well for you, right?"
"Oho? Getting cocky already, are we?"
"I mean it. You think your little lion cub is ready to face the sheer might of a Dragon-type?"
"Oh, please! Electric beats Water, Water beats Fire, this 'type matchup' stuff has been super easy to figure out so far! Dragons fly, right? Maybe they're actually weak to Electric and you're just trying to intimidate me out of this!"
Jeanne closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply. "...Alright. You're on. Don't say I didn't warn you."
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Kinkmas Day 5: Phone Sex
Stiles was going to throw up. Or pass out. Or maybe throw up and then pass out. Or maybe pass out as he was throwing up.
It wasn't an instant regret, he didn't know what he had just done. It took a few minutes and Stiles' impatience, for him to come to the conclusion as to what he had just done.
Usually the guy he had been texting, Brett, texted him right back, especially after the kind of text Stiles had just sent him. The naked kind of text.
But he hadn't answered for about ten minutes, strange for him. Stiles knew he didn't have work, it came up in casual conversation (which they didn't have very often) that Brett's only day off was Tuesday's.
Brett and Stiles had been hooking up for about a month now, completely casual and just for fun. They had met before at a couple lacrosse games, and rekindled over some stupid gay hookup app. Stiles swore he was going to delete it the day after he created it, but awoke to a message in the app.
The rest was sort of history, sweaty, hot, history.
They always hooked up on Tuesdays, and oftentimes liked to send the hint of wanting to hook up with a provocative picture. But Brett hadn't responded.
Stiles huffed out a breath, taking a seat on the couch and pulling out his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it and immediately went to his text messages, checking the most recent one he sent, the one to Brett, only to find it wasn't there.
At the top of the most recent messages was Derek's name. That's weird, he must have missed a text from him. Squinting in confusion, Stiles opened up the chat, only to go pale. Oh. My. God.
There on his phone was a picture of Stiles. A naked picture of Stiles. A naked picture of Stiles that he had sent to Derek, not to Brett. Holy mother of God.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Stiles chanted, leaning forward and trying not to throw up.
"Oh my God." He threw his phone beside him on the couch, burying his head in his hands. He and Derek hadn't talked in weeks. Sure, the brooding wolf had very slightly opened up to the rest of the pack, but not necessarily to Stiles. They nodded to each other at weekly pack meetings (Scott's suggestion to try and keep them all close for now, as was the summer before they all started college, everyone was prepared to go their separate ways, to get out of this town), but never talked.
Stiles' face burned red with embarrassment, he would never be able to face the man again, not as long as he lived. He shook his head in his hands. At least he never really had to see him again. I mean, in less than a month, he would be at Stanford. Sure he was still in California, but he was hours away from Beacon Hills, hours away from Derek.
He was still deep in thought, feeling sick to his stomach when his phone buzzed on the opposite side of the couch. Oh dear God. Had Derek responded? He couldn't look.
He stared at his hands, worrying his lip between his teeth. He couldn't look. He had to look.
He lunged at his phone, grabbing it quickly. How Derek chose to respond didn't really matter, he was never going to see the man again, not after something like that. Consider his summer over. The last three pack meetings were cancelled, as far as Stiles was concerned.
With trembling fingers, Stiles unlocked his phone, staring at the home screen. He had a message from Derek, big surprise. He wondered for a moment how Derek would respond. Maybe he would type angrily in all caps, or send a puking emoji, maybe he would threaten to send it to someone.
Ears burning like fire, Stiles opened up the message and slightly relaxed.
I don't think you meant to send that to me.
What a mundane response. Normal, appropriate, simple. Stiles had never been more thankful for the man of few words. That could have been so much worse.
Stiles shook his head, taking in a deep breath. It was fine, it would be fine. A simple mistake, really. He would profusely apologize, move to Stanford, and never see Derek again. Life would go on. It was fine.
His phone buzzed again, breaking him from his thoughts. On instinct, he looked down again at his phone and then froze.
But I like what I see.
Oh my God. Stiles blinked several times, rereading the latest text several times. He double-no, triple, checked that it was from Derek.
But I like what I see.
Now it was Stiles turn to stare at the unexpected text message he had just received, confused and embarrassed still. How was he supposed to respond to that? I mean, he shouldn't ignore that right? It certainly wasn't the response he expected but it also didn't bother him.
Blood pooled at his groin at the thought of Derek seeing that picture, at Derek liking it.
Was this seriously his life, was this seriously happening right now?
Stiles bit his lip again, typing and erasing each message he tried to prepare. He had no words for that, no words could describe how he was feeling, because he didn't even know how he was feeling. Even so, he felt as though he had to say something. Besides, they both had their read receipts on, Derek would know Stiles had read his messages.
Sorry.
Before Stiles could psych himself out, he sent it. One word, an apology for the accidental text, so Derek would know it indeed was not meant for him. Maybe they would be able to forget about it, move on, maybe Stiles wouldn't have to hide at Stanford for the rest of his life, but for now, that was still the plan.
Don't be.
Fuck, what did that mean? Derek had to be joking, he had to be. There was no way that Derek actually liked that photo, no way. Derek, the guy who shoved him around and shot him glares. Sure Peter joked about the sexual tension in the room but that wasn't sexual tension that was just. . . Derek's hatred for Stiles. Just regular ole tension
Stiles huffed out a sigh, heading to his room. He put the phone on the charger, determined to sleep and forget about this night. Maybe it was all just a dream. Wishful thinking.
It was also wishful thinking that he would be able to fall asleep. He tossed and turned for hours, wrapped up in his navy blue sheets. He got a cup of tea at some point, opened up the window for a nice cool breeze, read a couple chapters of a book, even wacked one out, trying his hardest not to think of Derek, but nothing worked.
Eventually, around five in the morning, pure exhaustion took over and he got about two hours of off and on sleep.
In the morning, Stiles felt utterly wrecked. He wiped at his eyes and rolled over to grab his phone, unfortunately it was usually the first thing he did in the morning. He was used to being called in the middle of the night, something crazy was always happening in Beacon Hills, so checking for missed calls and texts first thing sort of became a routine.
He didn't have seventeen missed calls from Scott this time, only two notifications. An email from the University (most likely telling them once more just how excited they were to have him), and a text from Derek, at 6:32 AM.
What the hell was he doing up that early, and why did he text Stiles- oh. Oh yeah. Heat rushed to Stiles' face again, cheeks burning in embarrassment. He had totally sent a nude to Derek. But. . . Derek had liked it. Or at least claimed to, prank or not.
Maybe Isaac had gotten a hold of his phone, had seen it and pretended to be Derek. Ugh. That meant Isaac had seen his junk.
Clearing his throat, Stiles opened up the text.
Good morning.
A simple text, a weird one from Derek, but none the less- oh dear mother of God.
Stiles sat up in bed so fast his head spun. He shook his head, trying to rid the dizziness and stared down at his phone, mouth agape.
Right below the good morning text was a picture of Derek. A not suitable for work picture of Derek. A very naked picture of Derek. A very naked picture of Derek with his hand around his hard cock.
Oh my God.
Stiles didn't know what to say, what to do. It was very clearly Derek in the photo. I mean sure, Stiles had never seen the man's cock, which was huge by the way, but he'd seen the man shirtless plenty of times, that was Derek. Derek with his rock hard abs, slightly hairy chest, deep v-line and hung, hard, cock.
Derek fucking Hale had just sent Stiles a nude.
Stiles smirked, in awe. This was the best thing that had happened to him since. . . ever. He was going to frame that photo. Was going to save it as his background on his phone and laptop. The only thing better than a picture of Derek would be seeing Derek-.
Quickly, Stiles began typing, because if that was a possibility, he wasn't going to let that slip through his fingers.
Well good morning to you too.
It was sly, teasing, perfect for the situation, if you asked Stiles.
Derek's didn't respond, hadn't seen the message. Stiles quickly typed something else up, impatient and hoping maybe more than one message would grab the man's attention if he happened to just miss the first one.
Looks like you are happy to see me.
Stiles smirked again. If Derek was dead set on stunning Stiles, or perhaps this really was a prank, a really, really, too-far prank, then Stiles would play along. Two could play at this game.
Stiles watched his phone for a few minutes, waiting for that little delivered saying under his message to say read, but it didn't change. Huffing, Stiles got up, making himself breakfast quickly and making sure his volume was up all the way on his phone.
He was shoving waffles down his throat when he got a text, but it was just Scott, asking if he was busy today. Stiles said he was.
He cleaned the dishes thoroughly and decided to take a shower.
He definitely did not jerk off to Derek. Nope. He didn't.
Hoping out of the shower, his heart rate was still up when he checked his phone, wiping away the fog that had clung to the screen, and it went up further when he saw a text from Derek.
Woke up thinking about you.
Stiles raised his eyebrows. That was. . . well hot for one, but also kinda sweet? Totally not like Derek.
Stiles looked down at his half-hard cock, interested already and gave it a slow stroke, hissing as he was still recovering from his last orgasm. Even so, he continued on, becoming fully hard in no time, just staring at that picture Derek had sent him.
Then Stiles did something so risky. Probably very stupid.
He took a picture of his hard dick and sent it to Derek.
So did I.
Derek was typing back immediately and Stiles went to his room, still naked, waiting for his response, stroking his dick lazily.
What were you thinking about, exactly?
Stiles typed back one handed. Risky. Stupid. But he kept going.
Thinking about that picture you sent me.
Stiles bit his lip again.
Did you like it?
Stiles almost laughed. Oh yes, he liked it.
Yes.
Derek seemed to think for a second, not texting back immediately. Honestly, Stiles was impressed that he texted as fast as he did, Derek wasn't exactly one with technology.
You should see it in person.
Stiles's heart hammered in his chest. He wondered what the "it" exactly referred to. He was so willing to find out.
Picture's don't do it justice?
Stiles teased.
I guess you'll have to come and find out.
Stiles sat up in bed quickly, running to his closet to throw on clothes. He threw on a loose shirt and some chinos, slipping on some shoes and brushing his teeth and quickly and thoroughly as he could. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, glad it was longer and hoping Derek would run his hands through it, pull it. As he was running out the door, starting his Jeep, he sent one final text.
Be there in ten.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27847538/chapters/68179390
#Sterek#sterekkinkmas#sterekkinkmas2020#sterek fic#ao3#Derek#derek hale#Stiles/Derek#stiles x derek#stiles stilinski#Stiles
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Drabble I had written in my journal during class and typed up last night in google docs. I’m pretty happy with it!
Simbako belongs to @plaguenevermore !
I can’t cut this (on mobile rn) til later so please block the tag “long post” if you want to skip over it!
—
Her eyes closed, feeling the cool breeze on her face as the opened the door leading to the roof of her apartment building. Looking over the bustle of the city from above always put her heart at ease. Maybe it was seeing the world in a wider scale, or that it all looked so small from up above, or maybe it was that siren call of swinging her legs over the edge yet still being able to overcome it. Either way, it was a sort of sanctuary after a long day. It was something that she was sure she wasn’t supposed to have access to, and it was merely coincidence that the few staff who would have any reason to be up there didn't lock the door. She was sure no one else really knew the door could be opened.
So it shocked her to see someone already on the roof, sitting on the edge of the roof and a beer in hand. Mantis looked at her own strawberry lagers in the six pack hooked on her fingers before cutting her eyes back. The city lights outlined his silhouette, messy hair evident as well as what looked to be bandages wrapped up to his elbows. That’s when it finally hit her. Eyes widening, her words escaped her lips before she even had the chance to stop herself.
“Simbako-?”
He immediately tensed, straightening up at the sound of another voice. He quickly turned to face her, already looking hostile and like he was trying to find his words. “The fuck are you doing here?” He snarled, though he was already planning how he’d make an escape; or if push came to shove, he was sure he could handle her on his own. Mantis put her free hand up, a small gesture as she moved forward.
“I could ask you the same, this is… er,” she faltered for a moment, thinking over her words. She couldn’t possibly tell him she lived in this complex. “... I usually relax here ‘cause it’s quiet.” to be fair, that wasn’t a lie, but the way his eyebrow raised made her realize how much more suspicious she sounded. She shook her head, pulling one of the glass bottles from the cardboard six pack she was holding and offered it out to him as she got closer. “Here, relax. I swear I’m not here to do anything. Er… do you mind having some company?”
Simbako looked to the hero, then the lager in her hand, before taking it with a resigned shrug. “Thanks, I think.” He muttered, looking away as Mantis sat just beside the edge, resting her drink on it’s raised eaves before crossing her arms over the edge. The silence between them was thick with tension, neither sure what exactly to say before Simbako finally spoke up.
“... So why the hell are you being so nice to me?” He watched her as she kept her eyes fixed on the city skyline, quiet for a moment longer before she finally answered.
“You haven’t really done anything to me yet,” she hummed, “Plus, I’m more of a ‘small time villain’ sort. I’m nowhere near as strong or useful as the others, and I’m pretty sure the couple times I got in fights with you and Rayne were ‘cause I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
He merely nodded along to that, taking a sip of the lager she had given him. His face scrunched up a little.
“This is really sweet.”
“Beats the convenience store beer you got.” She laughed, taking another swig of her own bottle. “So, why are you up here? Shouldn’t you be home?”
Simbako shrugged, the condensation of the glass bottle soaking into the wraps around his palms. “ I dunno, its just… some time to slow down. Nosy little shit, aren’t ya?”
“Hey, just trying to make some conversation.”
There was another stretch of silence between the two, but instead of it being tense, it felt like a more comfortable silence. At least, to Mantis it did. Her antennas twitched, slugging through half the bottle, the way only someone used to- or unbothered by the bitter burn could. Her eyes drifted from the city lights and the low din of cars and people to Simbako’s face. It wasn’t hard to notice the bags under his eyes, the unkempt scruff on his face. She knew this man was someone to be wary of- or hell, scared of- but most of what she was feeling was some sort of sympathy. He looked absolutely exhausted, eyes glazed, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol. Seeing his eyes suddenly cut over to meet hers, she quickly looked away, finishing off the rest of her bottle before setting it aside and already pawing for a second.
“What ya mentioned before; you’re a lot fuckin tougher than you look, it’s almost annoying. I swear ya held your own pretty good against Rayne.”
Mantis stopped mid pull of the second bottle cap, shocked by the sudden compliment and her mind clicking back to what exactly he had meant. “Uh- really? She tased my ass til I could taste peanut butter for a couple days, I’m pretty sure she won.” He held back a laugh, only a small huff escaping him before he continued.
“Didn’t say ya won, just that you’re tough. Between that and staying in Daxton, I thought for sure you’d be gone by now. This place is a shithole.”
“The whole world pretty much is, y’know?”
“... not what I’d expect from miss “I wanna play hero”.”
It was Mantis’ turn to glare up at him, a frown on her face as she studied the very light smirk on his face.
“Just ‘cause things are bad doesn’t mean I can't make the world better for someone, mister… erm-... mister half naked all the damned time!” That one did make him laugh a bit, shaking his head. “You’re just jealous you can't walk around like this.”
“I-! … Okay, maybe I am a little bit…!” Mantis laughed, obviously a bit tipsy but her laughter was sweet and genuine. “Really though, I’m not here to lecture you on hero stuff. I’ve just… have my reasons.”
“And I have mine.”
“Such as…?”
“There ya go being fuckin nosy again.” He had to admit her laid back, joking manner was contagious, to the point that even his usual grumbled retorts took on a lighter tone. Mantis was about to reply when a soft melody played from her pocket. She fished her phone from her pocket, tapping the screen a couple times until the alarm finally stopped. “Ugh, I can’t be up here much longer, I gotta sleep.”
“ ‘bout time, I thought you were gonna talk my ear off.”
Mantis rolled her eyes, picking up the half empty six pack and putting the empty bottles in the slots to throw out. As she picked up the empty convenience store one from Simbakos’ side, she gave him a sheepish grin. “...Uhm, thanks for keeping me company. I appreciate it. If you…” She stopped before shaking her head and continuing. “Just, you know where to find me most nights. I’m not gonna turn you away or be upset if you stop by again.” There was a mix of confusion and surprise on his face as she trailed off, but he simply nodded and turned away again. There wasn’t much else to say to that, so Mantis opened the roof access again, quietly closing the door behind her. Face to face with the stairs again, a mixture of different emotions and the alcohol warming her body kept her in place at the top for a moment. She was sure that’d be the last she saw of him, outside of watching Blade and the others fighting him, and all she could do was sigh, shake her head, and take that first step.
At least she had gotten him to laugh, she felt a weird sense of pride at that.
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