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lovingrosewho · 3 years

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Fake Dating (pt. 5)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

It’s finally here! The last part of this mini-series! The longest part as well! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, thanks to everyone who reads, who comments, who asks to be tagged, you really can’t even imagine how much it means to me, the whole 6.7k total words of this fic are already worth it just because of you! Any feedback is highly welcomed :-) Did you like it? Would you have preferred for it to be just 2-3 longer chapters? Were the characters ok? Any thoughts you have in mind 🥰 Prompts “Enjoying the view?” and “I can’t believe you are actually wearing my clothes” taken from this post by @sinnabonka 💕

MULTICHAPTER

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Rating: T. Fluff

Word count: 2k

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester need your help with a case, which involves pretending to date the King of Hell.

Warnings: none

Sam’s look is pure confusion, whereas Dean’s...

“What the hell?!” he exclaims. You can tell the only thing stopping him from punching Crowley is that the shock of the image before him has glued his feet to the floor.

“Now we’re in trouble” Crowley jokes lowly. You sigh and roll your eyes in boredom, standing up from the couch and walking over to Sam who is holding your coat with one hand and a gun on the other.

“Thank you” you say more politely than usual so they can note the irony “I thought I’d might die of hypothermia”.

Dean is still staring at Crowley, the engines inside his head must be running a thousand miles per hour deciding if to beat the crap out of him or thank him for keeping you alive. Crowley walks to you, noting Dean’s look and frankly, not caring, lifting your face up in his hands.

“I’ll be seeing you around, kitten” he mutters before vanishing in front of you, leaving you to deal with the family drama. You turn around to see the Winchesters looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation you’re not willing to give them yet, so you walk past them and towards the car.

The ride is tense, you’re in utter quiet, back on the passengers seat. You can see how Dean holds the wheel angrily, he won’t even let Sam put any music, even though the younger brother is just looking for the right words to say.

“I can’t believe it” Dean finally speaks, after a long-ass half hour of silence, and you snap.

“Oh so now you can’t believe it? This was your idea!” you reclaim yelling.

“Guys...” Sam interrupts taking a deep breath but none of you listen to him.

“Oh well excuse me for making you make out with the freaking King of Hell!” Dean yells as well, ignoring Sam.

The whole ride goes like that, screaming and recriminating at each other, Sam puts his earbuds on, massaging his temples with his fingers as well, praying to God you get to the bunker quickly so everyone can take some time off before discussing the whole Crowley and you matter.

After about fifteen minutes, you do exactly that, arriving to the bunker, throwing your heels on the War Room, not caring about breaking something, storming into your bedroom next, slamming the door with a bang. Dean’s about to go after you but Sam stops him, so he only turns up the warding as far as it can go.

You spend hours tossing and turning in bed, just to get up, walk in circles like a caged lion, and back to bed.

At about 4am or so, you can’t stand the feeling anymore and get out of your room on your tiptoes, listening to Sam and Dean snore through their doors, you take it as a cue to sneak out of the bunker as quietly as possible. When you’re on the outside highway, you call Crowley.

He appears in front of you not two rings into the call, with his hands inside his pockets and an intrigued look.

“So?” he asks heading your way slowly “How did the dynamic duo take it?”

“Not good” you confirm shrugging, extending your arms to hug him. He embraces you firmly, breathing in your scent.

“I’m sorry I left like that, but you understand, the hardy boys over there would have killed me had I stayed any longer. I tried to come into your bedroom but for some reason I couldn’t” he tells you and you nod.

“Yeah no, it would’ve been worse handling all that stuff with you there. And yes they... Dean turned up the warding” you explain.

“Of course” he says in a tired way, not letting you go.

“I’ll turn it down, they’re already asleep” you say, separating from him and taking his hand instead, conducting him to the door of the bunker, but to your very shabby surprise, Sam and Dean are waiting for you inside, Dean’s arms crossed across his chest and Sam’s mouth in a grimace, giving you an apologetic look.

“Dean, I don’t have time for this” you say going towards the warding. Crowley’s semblance appears calm and even a bit amused, but you can feel his hand slightly tensed in yours.

“Me neither, sweetheart. It’s late, we’re tired, and oh, I already lowered the warding” he says mockingly. You turn to him again, exasperated.

“Alright, (Y/N), we just want to understand,” Sam says, stopping another loud argument from happening “what the hell?”

You sigh, about to recite hour to hour what happened, but Crowley lets go of your hand swiftly and moves it to your shoulder, speaking up.

“It wasn’t her fault” he says, looking at both the Winchesters one at a time “If you’re about to scold anyone, Dean, it’s me, not her”.

“Damn right I am” Dean says, taking a few steps forward intimidatingly, but Sam, as the true moderator he is, raises one hand in annoyance as a heads up for Dean to stay where he is.

“Okay, then, Crowley, man, what the hell?” Sam asks, genuinely bewildered “We leave her with you for a few hours and-and, you’re kissing her?”

You can tell by Crowley’s look and stand, he’s doing his absolute best not to retort with some, witty-out of the place, comment. Since you’re still on top of the stairs, he snaps you both down to be leveled with the Winchesters.

“I like him” you say before Crowley’s even able to respond himself “I love him”.

Now the three men are looking at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“And I love her too” Crowley admits as well, still looking at you taken aback by your words.

“But you’re a demon” a stunned Sam interrupts the scene “Can you even love?”

“Yes, Moose” Crowley rolls his eyes “Apparently, since you two morons dosed me with human blood till derogation, my whole demon-system has... gone soft. As you very eloquently put it”.

You chuckle slightly, knowing that’s just partially true, even before they sedated him with that, he was already very fond of you.

Dean hasn’t said a word nor moved while Sam has been doing all the talking, but suddenly, he walks towards you and encircles you in a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“Dean?” you call unsure about this unexpected behavior.

“I know you know what you’re doing kiddo” he says almost inaudibly “I just... worry too damn much about you, but you can take better care of yourself than either Sam or me can”.

You feel a single tear rolling down your cheeks and landing on Dean’s shoulder. He separates to look at you, his grip on your forearms, a persistent form of protection and reassurance.

“Is this really what you want?” he asks carefully “Cause if it is... I mean I hate it. But I understand, I won’t get on your way. As long as he doesn’t hurt you. ‘Cause if he does...”

“You’ll smite me till beyond hell itself? Yes, Squirrel, we’ve heard that one before” Crowley interrupts him. Dean’s grip tenses on you, but he takes a deep breath, likely counts till ten, and looks affirmatively at Crowley “Good. Now that we could work this out like the highly functioning enemies we are, may I have (Y/N) back?”

“This is what I want” you say to Dean “It’s my decision”.

Dean nods, resigned, hugs you one last time and lets you go to Crowley’s side, holding his hand.

“Take care” Sam tells you waving his hand in the air. Dean is obsessively biting the nail of his thumb, probably regretting the choice of letting you go off with him, but it’s too late, Crowley vanishes the two of you and in a fraction of a second, you’re standing in his chambers in hell.

“That went... awfully pleasant” Crowley declares with both his eyebrows arched, just before he pulls you to him, still holding your hand and grabbing the one that was missing, putting carefully aside a lock of hair and placing it behind your ear as he looks at you in the eyes.

“Mmmh” you hum in response, throwing your arms on top of his shoulders and encircling them behind his neck, swiftly rocking you both right and left “Dean’s probably already regretting his decision”.

Crowley chuckles and nods in agreement until you yawn.

“Oh, kitten, I forgot” he says separating slightly from you, holding your face in his hands “You haven’t slept in... almost 24 hours”.

You yawn again just when yoo were about to retort.

“Say no more” Crowley says with a grin, clicking his fingers, dressing you both in satined pajamas. You laugh loudly.

“Of course you would sleep in satin” you mock giving him a playful look, taking his hand again, making him follow you to the bed, decorated with black gold and red velvet details.

“If you think you’re making me sleep with those, frankly horrific, band t-shirts you wear, well darling, you’re out of your mind” he affirms, making you laugh.

“What scares me the most is you noticing exactly what I sleep in” you tease getting under the covers, making room for Crowley to get in next to you. He rolls his eyes at your statement.

“You’re not exactly the dress-up type, darling” he teases equally, following your lead and getting under the covers with you, turning to his side to face you “I’ve seen you several times walking around in the bunker in those same t-shirts, a pair of pajama shorts and flip-flops. Which, by the way, you’re never making me wear either. Ever”.

“Yet” you giggle “They’re comfortable. And admit it, I look good on them”.

Crowley hums, extending an arm across your waist, drawing you closer to him.

“Do demons even sleep?” you ask when you feel drowsiness tugging at your eyelids, adjusting your head in Crowley’s chest, letting him cuddle you.

“We don’t, but we can if we want, for a few hours” he assures you “You sleep well, kitten, I’m not going anywhere”.

You nod sheepishly and begin to drift in the soft surge of your sleep.

When you wake up the next morning, almost afternoon, you find Crowley right beside you, still heavy on sleep, gentle breaths coming out of him as his chest moves lightly up and down.

You get up quietly, tip-toeing to his wardrobe on the other side of the room, losing the top part of the satin pajama and picking one of his suit shirts instead, putting it on, fastening only the three buttons of the center. After a few minutes, Crowley wakes up.

“Enjoying the view?” you ask brightly, turning your head towards him for a moment, watching him shift slightly up to a position where his arm is bent and his head is resting on his hand.

“What are you doing there, kitten?” he questions softly, his voice still husky with sleep “Come back to bed”.

You turn around fully this time and he seems to be more awaken suddenly.

“Everything all right?” you interrogate.

“Yes-very much so. It’s just... I can’t believe you are actually wearing my clothes” he exclaims, the corners of his mouth slightly lift “I don’t expect you to know how much that shirt cost”.

You grin widely, walking to the bed slowly, throwing yourself to it afterwards, not taking your eyes off of him.

“No. Does it matter?” you ask again, tone still teasing. He shakes his head.

“Not at all. It’s yours” he states, rolling on top of you, placing his hands at your sides, lowering to kiss you deep and passionate.

“You know I’m eventually gonna need to get up and get back to hunting, right?” you mumble, running your fingers through his beard and lips.

“As much as it pains me, yes. That’s why I’m intending to keep you here for as long as I can” he says, nuzzling his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I could do with that” you tell him happily, entangling your legs behind his hips and your arms in his neck, kissing him once again. Swaying, tender lips across his.

The End

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST: @enby-thesbian @agent-smulder

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #crowley #crowley supernatural #crowley x reader #crowley x reader fic #crowley x reader fanfiction #crowley fic #crowley fanfiction #crowley fanfic #crowley spn #crowley x y/n #crowley x you #crowley masterlist

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magic-fluffie-boyes · 4 years

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Hope you’re doing well! Could you maybe to some headcanons with Mammon and Belphie x MC (separately) who’s usually really strong and happy but one day she breaks down from too much pressure and stress? Like maybe how they comfort her? Thank you if you decide to do this!

Mammon and Belphie Comfort Their MC

Mammon

💰 Mammon knows MC exclusively as a person filled with joy, and someone who brings light to his life (not that he’d admit that).

💰 The thought of her feeling even remotely sad is such a foreign idea that it makes him uncomfortable for a large multitude of reasons; Mainly the fact that he wouldn’t know what to do if she did ever cry in front of him.

💰 So one day, later into the school year when the workload is becoming a bit heavier, Mammon is hanging out in her room. She was supposedly working on something for a class and Mammon was procrastinating by scrolling through devilgram. (the usual for them)

💰 In reality, however, she wasn’t really working on anything. She’d been staring at her textbook for nearly the entire time they sat there, unable to conjure up anything in her to force herself to work.

💰 She was entirely burnt out by the amount of work she’d been given in the last few weeks, human world teachers weren’t this brutal ever. Not at all. She wasn’t sure if she couldn’t handle it much longer.

💰 Before she knew it she was crying, sniffling rather loudly as she entirely forgot that Mammon was in the room with her.

💰 To say the demon’s stomach dropped was an understatement. It didn’t register fully that she was crying until he moved to see her face that was clearly scrunched up with tears falling down her cheeks.

💰 He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t really great with comfort, but he couldn’t just let her cry when he could help her.

💰 “Yo, Mc, what are ya cryin’ for? Are ya not enjoyin’ my company for some reason?” he would ask to which she would chuckle at him and assure him that wasn’t it. She was just stressed out. “Then why don’t ya just take a break, I’ll even be generous and let ta lie with THE GREAT MAMMON!”

💰 He holds her close, despite the burning hot blush on his face, and offers silent comfort in gentle squeezes and little back rubs.

💰 They fall asleep like that, and she doesn’t get any work done, but she feels way better than she did before their cuddle session.

Belphegor

🐄 Belphie is… not the most empathetic demon around. He’s already not all that great at understanding why MC is so perky most of the time, he finds it annoyingly adorable but… he just doesn’t get it.

🐄 So if MC is sad… he might be able to understand the feeling better since he’s experienced grief with Lillith, but he wouldn’t be able to fully grasp what she’s feeling and comes off as uncaring and cold -- which, if we’re real, is probably true.

🐄 So when he and MC are having their daily cuddle session, he makes an offhand comment about something that had been worrying her recently. Joking about it lightly

🐄 It was harmless, and she knew that, but it was just the last thing after so many emotions piling up that just all came rushing out at once. Before she knew it she was just crying into Belphegor’s shoulder.

🐄 Belphegor, being our darling Belphegor, his first reaction is disgust because ‘ew, the human is getting all their fluids on me’ which obviously proves to make the situation cause now she’s crying harder because she feels bad for bothering him.

🐄 He can’t understand at all why she’s crying, but even he knows that isn’t what he should focus on. Instead, he needs to first calm her down enough so she can speak properly before he can figure out.

🐄 He holds her close to her chest and frowns at her, “Why are you crying, silly human, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal so just calm down okay.” She immediately apologizes through her tears, trying to explain herself through broken sobs, “Shh, focus on calming down before trying to talk, okay.”

🐄 He cradles her close to him and rocks her back and forth, running his fingers through her hair soothingly. He’d gotten rather good at comfort from helping Beel through his nightmares, and he was confident those tactics were working on her seeing as she was calming down quickly.

🐄 When she finally is able to coherently explain herself Belphegor scoffs. He tells her not to worry about all that stuff right now and just sleep with him, and he’ll (reluctantly) help her with whatever it is she needs.

🐄 But first, and most importantly, she needs a nap. Luckily she has the best napping partner literally attached to her at the moment, and she won’t be going anywhere until she’s well-rested.

🐄 She misses her classes for the next day and gets quite the lecture from Lucifer, but she wouldn’t have traded the time with Belphie for anything in the world.

A/N: I’m so tired, I’m like… i’m exhausted. I stayed up till almost 4am trying to write this. Which is a simple way of saying, ‘I re-wrote this like five times over and I’m just going to stop here.’ I added emojis again tho, looks kinda cute I guess. I just want this piece to feel good and not like I was suffering the whole time. I really hope this product was worth it, and I hope you enjoyed!

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me x reader #belphegor x reader #belphegor x mc #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon x reader #obey me belphegor x mc #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #swd mammon #swd belphegor #x mc #x reader

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starryseo · 5 years

Text

phone number. | yang jeongin

pairing ↠ jeongin x gender neutral!reader

genre ↠ just a fluffy barista au!!

wc ↠ 3229

summary ↠ jeongin likes you a latte.

warnings ↠ just jeongin being cute and in loooove. its cringey.

a/n ↠ barista!jeongin bc who doesn’t love cafe aus?

cafe glow is well-known around these parts of town bc it has such!! great!! food and drinks!

it has a real homely feel so a lot of student from the nearby schools/ unis come here

and it’s a pretty big cafe so there’s a lot of space for ppl to come in and chill, whether that be large study groups or just individuals trying to cram for upcoming tests

that homely feel?? it’s bc of all the youngsters that basically run the cafe

it’s officially owned by mr and mrs bang, but their son, chan, manages this cafe a lot since they’ve got a few other places in town to run

chan loves recruiting teens to work bc, despite their hyperactivity (esp the lot that are currently there), they’re a lot less work to deal with than grumpy adults complaining abt wages

so!!

just a few months ago, jeongin started looking around for places to work at

let’s get that bread bro

he spoke to a lot of the nearby businesses like the florist, library and pizzeria but as soon as he entered glow and saw a blond guy downing shots of black coffee as he made different drinks, he Knew he wanted to work here

he headed straight to the counter (ok ofc he waited in line first but who cares abt that)

“welcome to glow, what can i get ya?”

“hi, i was wondering if you were hiring?”

“so,” the guy - nametag reading Felix - began, leaning forwards on the counter, “you wanna join the glow gang, huh? have you got what it takes??”

maybe he should’ve thought more clearly abt this-

“felix are u creeping out kids again?? i swear this is the last time i leave you on counter duty” the black-coffee-drinking blond huffed, wiping his hands on his apron as he left the coffee machines. he nudged felix out of the way, pushing him to the machines before he turned to jeongin. “i’m sorry abt him, i don’t know why i still keep him around”

“i heard that!”

“anyway,” the blond - nametag with Chan printed on it - grinned, “what can i get for you?”

“a job here would be great”

“you really wanna work here,,,, with that?” he pointed over to felix who looked back with a frown

“yeah, it seems pretty fun!”

“you got a cv on you?”

jeongin is a Prepared Boi. before his job hunting run he printed off multiple copies of his cv so he handed it over to chan who briefly looked over it

“when can you start working?”

“when do you need me to?”

chan let out a chuckle at that, pocketing jeongin’s cv, “swing by tomorrow at 4 and we’ll work that out, yeah?”

jeongin went home a Happy Boy and the next day at exactly 4:37 he had landed himself a sweet job at cafe glow

ever since that day a few months ago, jeongin had been learning the ins and outs of the cafe

he’s learnt all about where felix hides his ‘secret’ stash of sweets, where to kick if the machines ever go down and jisung’s ability to not stop talking

jisung’s the guy in charge of training jeongin bc chan doesn’t trust felix with another human’s life and minho, an older uni student that works here part time, is way too busy flirting with customers to get more tips those uni fees won’t pay themselves u go bby

and chan himself already has a lot to deal with since he mainly works in the kitchens

so jisung has taken jeongin under his wing and taught him how to make all drinks (despite there being a manual for this) and how to deal with the customers

and even tho jisung is only 5 months older than jeongin, he n e v e r misses an opportunity to baby the hecc out of him

“what are the different cup sizes we have?”

“uh,, small,, medium and large??”

“goSH jeonGIN you’re so smART!!!! ily!!! what cAN’T you do???”

jisung’s overdramatic as hell but he means well

and it’s always funny when jeongin teams up with felix (still a pretty rare occassion) to prank jisung

one day jeongin had a test after school so he couldn’t come by

and ofc he let chan know this in advance but he and felix decided not to tell jisung

jisung was waiting around for jeongin to come and he literally almost started crying when felix told him an hour later that jeongin wasn’t gonna come

“,,m,y bab y ? jeonginnie??? wh at do u me an,, he won’t com,e??? felix you a s s don’t l i e to m,e,, :((((”

they even got minho to record the whole thing not for free ofc, and minho’s services are n o t cheap, but it was totally worth it

felix screenshot jisung’s crying face and it’s now the display picture of their glow gang group chat

which btw never shuts up bc: during the day (and work hours) felix, jisung and jeongin will be spamming it, during the evening minho will complain abt all the uni work he’s got to do, after dinner time the youngsters are back on it sending memes until like 2am, and then by 4am chan finally gets on and complains abt the boys killing his storage with their dumb memes & he gives any updates abt the next day’s schedule if need be

it’s a great system, hella wild and random, but jeongin loves it nonetheless

now for the part where u, dear reader, come in!!

it’s just an ordinary day, a bit quieter than usual but jeongin’s not complaining bc it gives him time to finish off some of his hw while he’s at the till

he looks up when the door chime rings and

(°ロ°) !

he’s vvv obviously staring at u as u walk in, his pen drops on the counter and his mouth is :0

damn yn you’ve broken jeongin

but does he care???

yes

is he stopping?????

also yes but you’ve already seen his dumbstruck face and he realises he was caught just staring at u when u walk up to him with a shy smile on your face

he doesn’t know what’s come over him

and he doesn’t mean to be some typical teenage boi straight out of a high school drama

but u just look so pretty he couldn’t help but?? go heart eyes??

he’s trying not to lose his cool when u finally reach the counter

“hi!” he grins, “welcome to cafe glow, what can i get for you?”

you order your drink and watch as jeongin types away at the computer

he’s rlly hoping the screen blocks his blush bc he’s still (´♡‿♡`)’ing and he’s pretty sure he can feel his blush at this point

“is there anything else i can get you?”

your number

he finds your thinking face so cute!! the way u bite ur lip a little as your eyes glaze over the sweet treats they have on display

he d i e s when u look back up at him and ask, “anything you’d recommend?”

he keeps his cool as he says some of his fave desserts, and you choose the cheesecake

“alright! will you be eating in or is that to-glow go”

his heart swells when u laugh at his pun but he’s highkey dYinG inside bc he wants u to stay for just a little longer

he almost cries when u say you’re eating in bc !!! yes!!!!!! yay!!!!!!!!!! maybe he could try talking to you!!!!!

“sweet! take a seat anywhere, your food will be made shortly!”

when u go to pay for ur food he’s internally hating felix bc he swears all these mushy feelings he’s experiencing are bc felix made him watch back-to-back romance films

he’s taken money from a lot of customers but he’s never, n e v e r, wanted to just hold their hand and he’s honestly so close to just never letting go of yours rn but he mentally slaps himself

pull it together jeongin u dumbass

when u tell him to keep the change he’s just

s i g h can u get any more perfect

he yeets felix out of the way from the coffee machines and towards the till

“role change, i’m bored!”

“but chan banned me from the tills, he’s gonna kill me!”

“i’ll get jisung on you”

“uGHhgHGHghhhhh”

he’s halfway thru making ur drink when minho sliiiides next to him and slings an arm around his shoulders

“so, innie, who’s the cutie you’re serving?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

from his short time working here he knows that minho is in love with any kind of gossip and there’s no point in lying to him

esp not with this massive blush on jeongin’s face that’S STILL thERe bc jeongin peeked over and saw you taking out textbooks which means you’re gonna stay here for lo n g er than he thought

and he’s got this huge grin on his face :D

and no one’s ever that happy making coffee

esp not when felix is right next to them singing along to the twice song playing in the cafe

god knows who put felix in charge of the cafe playlist

an y w ay

“does our baby innie have a,,, crushhh on a certain someone???”

“noooooookay maybe? idk i just met them!!”

“:0!!!! our baby’s iN LOVE!!!”

minho said that so loudly!!! jeongin peered over minho’s shoulder and saw that y o u had looked up at the exclamation and he let out a sheepish laugh to try and make the scene look normal

u just grinned at him and he almost swooned

minho’s shouting alerted jisung who deadass ran from the other side of the cafe

jisung, out of breath: wh-what do u mean,, in love,,,??? you’re too young for that ://

even chan popped out from the kitchen. “jeongin loves someone?? how cute, who is it- felix, what the hell are u doing there, didn’t i ban u from the tills??”

“blame loverboy!”

“gUYsss :((( let me wORk!!”

“u do u, innie, go get ‘em tiger!” minho said, smirking as he took a step back

the other boys stayed quiet as well, chan filling up the front display with the baked goods he freshly made

jeongin quietly got to finishing off ur drink and grabbed a cheesecake slice to carry over to you

“h-hey,” he started, placing the plate and drink beside your textbook, “sorry it took so long,,,”

“that’s alright,” you smiled and all his worries literally washed away, “was everything okay back there?”

“yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, smiling shyly, “minho’s just easily excited and nosy, a terrible combination really”

u laughed at that and he grinned, his nerves easing away

“u guys seem really close,” when he saw u quickly look over to the counters he turned as well, just in time to see all four of them rush to try and act natural (altho jisung just dropped to the ground so he’s really a lost cause)

“they’re really crazy, but they do mean well,” he grinned, “except felix, avoid him at all costs”

“i’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckled when jeongin pointed out who felix was and felix just glared back at him, as tho he knew jeongin was talking shit abt him

“well,” he started, realising he should go bc a big group of customers had just entered, “i’ll leave u to it, i hope u enjoy ur food. let me know if u need anything else!”

he headed back to the counter, a HUGE grin on his face, he’s so glad his back is to u bc he’d be so embarassed if u saw

it’s bad enough minho saw and is non-stop teasing him abt it now

throughout his shift minho was just taunting him, cooing “innie’s in love~”

as he was dealing with other customers and running around the cafe, he’d make quick eye contact with u and each time he did, u let out the softest smiles, he’s pretty sure he’s never smiled this much

abt an hour later when the rush had died down, jeongin looked over to see that!!! u were still there!!!!!

he fixed up a quick mango smoothie, smth he always found super refreshing, and headed over to your table

“h-hey?” he tapped your shoulder when he noticed u had your headphones in

“oh, hey! i, uh, i didn’t order this?”

“yeah, it’s,, it’s on the house, thought you might need a pick-me-up, you’ve been working rly hard”

“ahh thank you!!!” u grinned at him so cutely, “would u like to sit down?”

he nodded too enthusiastically but he hopes u didn’t pick up on that ((u did)) as he sat down opposite you

for the next 30 mins? hour?? neither of u know

u guys just talked

he’s thanking god that there was no rush in customers bc he enjoyed spending time just talking to u

the conversation seemed to flow so?? naturally???

he found out ur name and that u go to a nearby school sadly not the same one as him

and u were taking the scenic route home instead of ur normal walking path or using the bus which is why he’d never seen u before

he’s so glad that fate brought u here today tho!!!! eternally grateful that u made that wise choice!!!

when ur phone buzzed with a message from ur family he finally realised that it was getting late

he watched almost in tears as u packed ur stuff up, thanking him for the drinks and snacks that he definitely didn’t steal from felix’s hidden stash

he went back to the counter, stars in his eyes as he leaned against the counter, opposite minho who was chilling by the till

“so, how’d it go? did u get their number??”

jeongin: (❤ω❤)

jeongin, 0.02 secs later: ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ

felix, jumping in: “pls don’t tell me u spent all that time,,,,, and u didn’t get their number-”

minho: “loverboi was too busy making moves, eh?”

jeongin’s mood instantly dropped and he was so close to just headbutting the counter then and there

what if u never come back????

what if u came back when he wasn’t there?????

what if you’re on ur way here but then u see another cafe and u go there instead and fall in love with a barista there???????

jeongin’s 2 seconds away from pouting for all eternity when chan comes over and pats him on the back, “i’m sure they’ll come back!”

jeongin’s praying the old man’s right

and he is!!!!!!! cliche ik

u didn’t come back the next day which broke jeongin’s heart and he was honestly so close to losing all hope bc he’s incredibly dramatic like that

but u come back the day after!!!

jeongin’s wiping down a table when u enter and u spot him instantly and wave

he waves back but the cloth he’s holding slips from his hand onto the ground

and he rushes to pick it up but hits his head on the table when he tries standing up again

and he’s in so much pain but he just nervously laughs it away esp when he sees ur half worried, half trying-not-to-laugh-aloud face

when he sees u walking to him -- not the counter -- he’s counting to 100 in 3 seconds to try and calm himself down to not look like even more of a fool

“is the table okay?”

“yeah, i’m alri- hey, rude!” he pouts, faking a sniffle and rubbing his head

“i’m kidding, jeongin” (he had to bite his lip to not squEAL when u said his name) “are you okay? that looked painful :((”

“i’ll live,” he fake sobbed, rubbing away imaginary tears with the cloth in his hand before he realised what he’d just done and dropped it on the table in disgust (he highkey dieddd when u laughed at him again) “ew, i’m sorry you had to see all this”

“it’s fine,” you grinned, scrunching ur nose when u saw the wet smears on his face, “but u got a lil smth there” u pointed to ur own cheek

jeongin wanted to CRY

he knows he’s a cute boi (he uses this to his advantage whenever he can)

but rn??

he knows he looks like the epitome of a grade A DumbassTM

he just let out the longest s i g h

“i’ll be right back!”

he rushed off to the back and sorted himself out (and quickly iced his head)

he came back out to see u sitting down at the same table as last time

as soon as he came thru the doors u looked up and held out thumb, an eyebrow raised

and he reciprocated the gesture, telling u he’s all okay now!

he found it so cute that u cared!!! his heart: on fire!!

felix walked right to him, pulling him along to the coffee machines as he told him ur order

“u owe me one now loverboi!”

jeongin prepped ur food and took it to u like last time

but this time u initiated the conversation

“felix isn’t all that bad, y’know?” you said, holding onto your hot drink as it warmed ur hands up

“for now,” jeongin started, “trust me, if u ever have the misfortune of seeing him act cute, you’ll regret ever saying that.”

your nose scrunched as you imagined that -- jeongin gasped when he saw and then prayed you didn’t see that -- before you let out the cutest laugh he’s ever heard, “yeah, i can’t imagine that looking nice”

you two talked for a bit more until jeongin had to get back to the counter and take orders

he popped up at your table when he could, offering felix’s sweets and a refill

“do you treat all your customers like this? free drinks isn’t good for business, y’know?”

he went bright red at your teasing bc “nope, you’re special!” -- his eyes went w i d e when he said that and, if it was possible, his cheeks went redder -- but god, was it worth it bc your eyes sparkled and your blooming blush was so pretty he was starstruck

he cleared his throat, let out the most nervous chuckle ever, put the lemonade on your table before diving behind the counter

he could practically hear minho’s smirk from all the way over here

great.

it took a little while longer for him to psych himself up to go over to you again after that disaster

but seeing you pack up your bag made him forget everything and run up to you

“hey, you’re done already?” he asked, pouting as you put your last book away

“yeah, i’ve gotta help make dinner soon,” you replied, fixing your bag over your shoulder, “thanks for the drink, it was great!”

“y-yeah, no problem!” you loved his drink!! score!!!! “come again soon, yeah?”

“definitely,” you winked -- you winked, god his heart was weak -- before waving and taking your leave

felix slid up next to him, throwing his arm around jeongin’s shoulders

“pls tell me you got their number this time”

shit.

the top gif is jeongin’s face right now

#stray kids #yang jeongin #straykidznet #sk-writersnet #yang jeongin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #jeongin scenarios #stray kids fluff #yang jeongin fluff #jeongin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #yang jeongin imagines #jeongin imagines #jgn

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euphoria-svt · 5 years

Text

London Date

requested by anon: can you do a cute little request where Connor and the reader are out in the city taking pictures and he has a cute way of asking her to be his girlfriend?

I have no idea if this is a cute way of someone asking to be his girlfriend (bcs homegirl cannot relate) but I tried with this one haha x

I’m still taking request because I have another 2 weeks till uni starts and I’ve been bored outta my mind :)

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word count: 1.5k -ish

You open your eyes tiredly to the sound of your phone vibrating from the nightstand by your side of the bed. Lazily reaching for it, you caught a glance of the time and Connor’s name flashed on your screen as you answered the call.

You huffed in annoyance then muttered sleepily “Brashier, you better be dying because you know how much I hate to be disturbed in the morning, especially on off-days”

Connor chuckled lowly on the other end at your grumpiness. He knew you weren’t a morning person, hell everyone on the team knows that “Well good morning to you too, sleeping beauty. Meet me downstairs in 30 minutes?”

“Why the fuck?” You whined as you rolled over, avoiding the sunlight peeking through the curtains “I’d rather be sleeping until noon thank you very much”

“We’re going to explore London today!”

“No, I’m not” You deadpanned “You can go ask Brian or Shawn or whoever the hell wants to. I’m not going anywhere”

“Come on, y/n!” He insisted and you knew him well enough to know that he was pouting on the other end “It’s our only off-day and I haven’t seen much around London. Can you pretty please get out of bed and come follow me? Please?”

When Connor didn’t hear a respond, he could only imagine that you were likely dozing off to sleep again “y/n!” He called loudly to make sure you could hear him.

“Okay fine, I’ll come, I’ll come!” You exclaimed, rubbing your eyes tiredly “Give me an hour because I want to wash my hair then I’ll meet you downstairs”

“You’re the best, y/n!” Connor exclaimed “Text me when you’re ready, okay?”

You rolled out of bed a few minutes later and went over to your suitcase to pick out an outfit to wear for the day before heading towards the bathroom to take a shower. Forty minutes later, you were freshened up (still sort of sleepy but nothing a cup of coffee couldn’t fix) and had minimal makeup on for your little tourist day.

You grabbed your handbag from the coffee table, sending a quick text to Connor saying you were heading downstairs and slipped on your favourite pair of Adidas sneaker because you knew there was a lot of walking involved.

“Good morning!” Connor chirped as you walked up to him in the lobby.

With a raised eyebrow, you asked “Why are you so chirpy this morning? We went to sleep at 4am yesterday”

He shrugged his shoulder as you two stepped out of the hotel. It was still chilly in London but at least it doesn’t feel like you’re going to freeze your butt off “I’m just excited to walk around and stuff. I’ve never been to London before this”

You pulled out your phone and begin to look for the nearest attraction you two could visit “Do you want to go see the Big Ben first? We could take the tube to go there, get the whole tourist experience”

Connor nodded without hesitation “Yeah, that sounds like fun!”

After a few hours later and finally getting caffeine in your system, you and Connor were really enjoying being around one another as you visited the Big Ben, London Bridge, Buckingham Palace and the London Tower.

Connor had his camera out for most of the time, like he usually does. He was busy taking pictures of the different buildings and statues they passed by, getting good shots of them from different angles. But when he knew you weren’t paying attention to him; he sneakily took candid photos of you.

Connor liked you. A lot. Everyone knew that and even worst, Brian and Shawn wouldn’t stop teasing him about it. What Connor didn’t know is that your feelings for him were mutual and those two idiots you claimed to be your best friends were doing the same to you; obviously as an attempt to push you two to confess to one another.

There was also another reason why he asked you to come along with him today. When you were in Germany, you lot went to the local market where he saw you eyeing a pretty necklace in a vintage store however you didn’t buy it. So, while you and Liv were queuing up for doughnuts, Connor sneaked off to the previous store and bought it for you, in hoping to give it to you when he finally has the guts to confess his feelings.

That box has been sitting in the pocket of his duffle bag for about a month now because he kept feeling the moment wasn’t right… Until now.

“Did you get a lot of good shots today?” You asked as you two walked by the river bank.

“Yeah” Connor answered as he lowered his camera after taking a picture of the river; letting the camera dangle from his neck “I’m going to go through it tonight if I have the time because I have to work on editing the concert videos starting tomorrow”

“Has Andrew talked to you about what they’re looking for though?” You wondered “Like are they going to make it to an hour-long film, like what One Direction and Justin Bieber did?”

“I think it’s something like that” He nodded “I don’t know the full details quite yet but I’ve already got a fair number of videos from the European tour and basically got to compile them up and choose the best”

“I don’t know how you do it, Con” You told him, shaking your head a little “It’s just a shit ton of work for one person to do and you seem to be unbothered by staying up all the time editing and running around the arenas after Shawn”

“It’s hella tiring, for sure” Connor stated “But I’m doing what I love, you know? When you do what you love, it doesn’t feel like a chore to you” He shrugged.

You smiled, “That’s a nice motto to live by”

“Hello there!” A middle-aged woman greeted you as you two were passing by her flower cart. She flashed you and Connor a smile, holding out a single white rose in her hand “Would you want to buy a rose for your girlfriend? It’s only £1”

You were about to correct her, but Connor beat you to it “Yeah, why not” He smiled in return as he fished his hand into his pocket looking for loose change. He placed the coin in her hand and took the rose from her.

“Thank you!” She beamed.

“For you” Connor held the rose out for you, a shy smile appearing on his face.

You blushed in return, accepting the rose as you two continued walking down the pathway “Connor?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t correct her”

“Hm?” Connor hummed in return as he stopped in his track so he was facing you. He raised an eyebrow, “Correct who?”

“The flower lady” You muttered “She asked if you wanted to buy a rose for your girlfriend and you didn’t correct her”

“Oh”

“Well….” He began, trying to find the right words to say without messing up “Would that be okay?” He asked innocently “If you were my girlfriend?”

You were taken aback by his question. Brian and Shawn told you multiple times that Connor had feelings for you too but hearing it from those dorks versus hearing it from Connor’s mouth himself were very different.

You almost couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Your girlfriend?” You repeated shyly “Really?”

“Really” Connor confirmed as he looked into your eyes “I really like you, y/n… You have no idea”

You smirked, thinking of what Shawn and Brian have been saying “I might have an idea actually….”

“What are you-,” He paused before letting out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes “Those fucking idiots”

“They can’t keep their mouth shut” You shake your head “Which is why I know they’ve probably told you how I feel about you too”

Conor looked down and reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers together then lifted his face to look at you “So, this is a yes then?” He asked hesitantly.

You flashed him a smile, tip-toeing to press a kiss to his cheek “Yes, you goof”

“Good” He sighs happily as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his jean jacket and revealed a little purple box “Because I was going to give it to you after you said yes”

You looked at him curiously as you lifted the box open. You gasp when you saw the exact necklace you were eyeing from Germany sitting in the box, staring back at you.

“When did you get this?” You ask in a surprised tone.

“I saw you eyeing this beauty at the vintage store a while back” He grinned, taking the necklace out of the box and held it up “May I?”

You nodded as you turned, feeling the cold chain against your neck. You faced him again and said “Con, it’s so beautiful… But you really shouldn’t have”

“I know” Connor answered, shrugging “But I wanted to get it for you”

“You’re the sweetest” You cooed, pulling him in a hug “Thank you, Con. I love it”

“Anytime, babe” He muttered against your neck “I can call you babe, right?”

“If you want me to melt right away… Then yeah, call me ‘babe’ anytime you want, babe”

#connor brashier #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier blurb

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urlocalkpoptrash · 5 years

Text

Barely Human| Kim Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst.

Warning: None?

Concept: Worn out and frustrated, namjoon finds himself trusting a bartender he just met, getting himself into a little bit of a pickle.

A/N: This took me so long to write, and I’m proud of it. I will add the ‘read more’ option when I get on my laptop later.

- - - -

“I’ll take another shot,” Namjoon tossed his glass across the bar, the single bartender catching it in the curve of his hand.

“Rough night?” The man asked, lifting a brow.

“Hah, you could say that,” He grumbled, rubbing his face.

It was the last night in America. They had been on a press tour, discussing their upcoming album, and how it tied into the rest of their concept. It had been amazing with all the place they had gotten to see, and the American ARMY’s that they would have never met, if it hadn’t been for the publicity they were trying to get. He was beyond grateful, but the fatigue of barely sleeping, and constantly writing for their new album, he was unbelievably irritable and overly tired.

He was almost always level headed, and was usually the one to keep everyone in line. He was the leader after all, that was his job, and he did it well, a real overachiever. So, when he exploded tonight on yoongi, of all people, he knew he had to get out and get some air, or in this case, some whiskey. It was stupid, really, he left the hotel without any security or telling anyone where he was going to go. His phone was blowing up, mostly calls and texts from the other members, but the worst of them being from the managers. He knew he would be in a world of hurt when he got back, but right now, he couldn’t care less.

It was his third shot, and his sorrows still sat at the bottom of the glass, tempting him to drown them with the only warmth he could find. He was so deep in his own self deprecation that he hadn’t even heard the front door open, but he did feel the gush of cold that swirled around the lonely bar room, greeting his turned back with chills. He didn’t bother to turn around, it was probably best that no one saw him anyways.

He felt like hours had passed while he had his head down. He could hear a faint female voice coming from behind the bar, and the male bartender was saying his goodbyes to her, thanking her for coming in on such short notice. Joon finally sat up, his eyes fighting to crack open. The lighting was dim, but the alcohol had already started to fill up his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Hey there, stanger,” you said softly, walking across the back of the bar, a towel dragging over the used wood, and water rings from drinks left too long, “I thought we might have lost you to the daniels,” you grabbed his empty glass, dropping it in the sink.

“Hey,” he dragged out the word, as if it were more than a four letter word.

“Hey to you too,” you laughed softly, walking over to the taps. You poured him some water, and a small amount of ice.

“What if I wasn’t done drinking?” He tried to straighten his back, as if he was attempting to prove his sobriety.

“I’ve done this job for long enough to know when someone has had enough,” You set down his water, leaning over the counter to cup your chin in your hand, resting your elbow against the rag you left out.

“You don’t know me,” he challenged, leaning the same way you did, trying to mimic your actions, hoping to annoy you a little.

He was taken back when laughter fluttered from your chest. His eyes widened slightly, now leaning in so he could be a little closer to you. His vision had finally started to come back, and he could really see your face. You were gorgeous, and it wasn’t something that was lost on you. He could tell you knew you were attractive, but you never used it as an advantage. You tried to downplay the way your face expanded when you smiled, or the way your eyes almost closed when you laughed. You wore your emotions so clearly on your face, a raw human being, unafraid to unapologetically be yourself.

“So, sorrow boy. What are you trying to numb?” You asked, nudging the water towards him.

He took the hint that you wanted him to actually drink it, and in his crusade to get you to like him, he took a sip of the water. He looked up to you, his lips tugging to one side, morphing into a lopsided smile. He tried to clear his throat, not that anything was stuck, except for his words.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you started to pull away, dragging the cloth away, but Namjoon was quick to grab your wrist. It was a gentle, but urgent gesture.

“Oh shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he immediately started to apologize, and never once trying to justify his actions, but was truly apologetic.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his ears that had been peeking from the messy brunette tendrils started to turn a shade of red. Your heart melted in your chest a little, he was completely appalled at what he had done.

“Hey,” You reached over, patting the top of his hand, “It’s okay. I know what you meant, you don’t have to be sorry.”

He looked at you, an unknown emotion washed over his face for a moment, but as quickly as it came, it faded. He took a deep breath, and nodded, his hair shaking from the motion.

“Do you really want to know why I’m here?” He inquired, unsure of your motives.

“If I didn’t want to know, I promise you, I wouldn’t have asked,” you settled back into your resting position. You prodded him on with questioning eyes.

He nibbles on the inside of his cheek, contemplating whether or not he should tell you. It wasn’t like he’d ever see you again after tonight, and what would be the harm in finally being able to talk about what’s going on in his life.

“I work in the music industry,” he admitted - believing you had not idea who he was, because why else would you actually treat him like just another person, “and the group I’m apart of has been doing a lot of press, while finishing up an album. Not only that, but I’m the person everyone goes to. I don’t mind it, I do love my members, they’re like brothers, but we’re all getting worn out. Everything we do is always being watched, whether it’s our vacations being broadcasted, or us doing live streams for the fans. I can’t even go out to get coffee in the morning without a full security team, because our fans can be… unpredictable at times. I feel like I’m living in a cage, watching the world around me go by. I don’t know who I am outside of the personified version of myself that I try to sell to everyone,” He exhaled loudly, as if a physical weight had been brought off his shoulders.

“It sounds like you have everything,” you said, watching him immediately deflate, thinking you didn’t understand what he was trying to explain, “but, you’re not really living. You’re not enjoying life, because you’re running on low all the time. Your mind and body never has time to adjust,” you have all but climbed over the bar and sat in his lap, you two were close enough to each other that you swore he could feel your breath against his cheeks.

“I feel like I’m a robot on autopilot. Most days, I feel barely human,” his eyes fell, looking at the bottom of his water, rolling the glass between his palms.

You didn’t know this boy, you didn’t know his life or to what extent his problems branched, but for tonight, you wanted to erase them. You pulled away from the conversation, NamJoon’s head snapped up, the fear in his eyes was evident. He was afraid he had scared you off, or that you didn’t actually care for his problems.

“Come on. I’m closing up early, I want to take you somewhere,” you began the closing ritual, but made it as quick as possible.

You put the money from the till into the safe, which was in the back office. You went down the line, turning off all the lines that led to the taps. You could feel his gaze on your back as you moved about, switching off the lights.

“What if someone tries to come in?” He asked, a little bit of worry dripping from his question.

“Ah, yes. The busy hours between 2am and 4am,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder.

He caught your eyes immediately, that same goofy lopsided smile had founds its way back on to his lips. You bit the inside of your cheek, turning away to finish up what you had been doing. What had you been doing? You had completely lost track of what you were in the process of, he really made your mind go blank.

“Let’s go,” you closed the register with your hips as you walked by, the small door to the back of the bar swinging behind you.

Joon stepped off his stool, keeping a firm hold on the metal that separated him and the bar. You giggled to yourself, usually you found drunk guys to be rather annoying, but he was sweet, and clumsy. You took a step towards him, offering him your hand. He stared at it for a moment, as if your fingers had transformed into man eating snakes.

“I don’t have cooties, I swear,” grabbing his hand anyways, pulling him out of the door, the chairs taking a rather tipsy beating as his feet stumbled over themselves, crashing into the furniture.

“First of all, we’ve got to get some food in you, and sober you up.”

He didn’t disagree, partly because he was starving, but mostly because he was afraid this was all a drunken dream, and that he was bound to wake up at any moment.

“How did you find this place? Especially since it seems that you’re extremely recognizable,” you wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting him lean some of his weight on you. You hadn’t truly realized his height until now, which somehow made this so much more adorable.

“I just started walking, honestly. There is something freeing about getting out of a place that has four walls,” he lean his cheek on the top of your head.

“And sometimes you need those four walls to protect you,” you reached up, gently wrapping your hand around his fingers, which were dangling over your shoulder.

“It sounds like you may have the same kind of mind as me,” he paused for a moment, “And I’m sorry for that,” you could hear the sadness rounding out the corners of his slowly sobering speech.

The rest of the walk down the street to the only hotdog stand open, was quietly, except for the soft pitter patter of both your feet tapping against the pavement. He never moved his head, but his fingers played with yours, absentmindedly. The man standing with the cart smiled towards the both of you.

“Hungry love birds tonight?” He chirped, getting some buns ready for your order.

Namjoon went to open his mouth, but you nudged him, and he quickly closed his lips, burying his nose in your hair. His shyness was starting to make another appearance.

“Two dogs, fully loaded, and two water bottles,” you reached into your pocket, pulling out some money that had been through the wash too many times, and it smelled of detergent.

You two exchanged money and hotdogs, while Namjoon walked slowly over to the bench. You watched from your spot, making sure he didn’t stumble over his intoxicated limbs. He plopped down, with a loud push of air leaving his chest. You walked over to him, two water bottles under your arms, and the hot dogs in your hands. You sat beside him, sliding close, so that both your legs touched. He took a water and hot dog, leaving one of your arms free.

“Thank you,” He said between hurried bites.

“Man, you really were hungry,” you laughed, taking a sip of your water.

He looked down to hide his shy smile, “Yeah… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t eat so fast,” he slowed down his bites.

“You don’t have to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong,” you patted his knee.

“Has anyone ever told you how comforting you are?” He asked, after taking a sip of water.

Now it was your turn to blush, “A couple times, but it’s hard to believe, only because believing good things about yourself is much harder than it should be,” you shrugged, crumpling up the little paper that was holding your hotdog.

“I know exactly what you mean.” He grabbed both of your trash and stood up, clearly gaining some of balance back.

“Thank you,” you said softly, watching him walk. His long legs striding across the sidewalk.

You stood up when he walked back over to you, and he reached out, draping his arm around your shoulder, but this time it was just to have you a little closer to him. You looked up at him, catching his profile. His long neck, meeting the angular curve of his jaw. You were mesmerized by him, feeling as if you were the one who had drank all that Jack Daniels. You hadn’t even noticed that there was a group of girls following pretty far behind you, but joon had. He picked up his pace a little, turning his head to look down at you.

“There are some girls following us, and I can’t have them seeing your face, I don’t want you caught up in my life,” He was serious, and you really just started to realize how well known this guy may be.

“How fast can you run?” You asked without moving your head to look at him.

“I mean… not that fast,” he admitted, which would have been slightly endearing if it weren’t for the gaggle of girls following you.

“I’m going to need you to run as fast as you can, and don’t let go of my hand, got it?”

He nodded, wordlessly agreeing to your plan. In all honesty, you could have been working with them. You could trap him in a corner or hurt him somehow. He didn’t know you, and here he was trusting you. This brought a whole new meaning to blind trust. He dropped his arm from around your shoulders, and you found his fingers, tangling them with yours. You glanced over at him, and he was already looking at you. You couldn’t help the smile that snuck onto your lips.

“Go!” You yelled, taking off with him slightly behind you.

You could hear the girls behind you taking off as well, which pushed your legs faster. Namjoon was following behind you, but tugged on him, and with great effort he picked up his speed. You turned down a street, heading into a suburban area, houses that all looked the same. You could feel him losing momentum around the third block, but you needed one more block from him.

“We’re almost there,” you called back at him, and he groaned, but kept his pace.

The girls were gaining on you, so you had to make a detour, running in between the fences of peoples houses, pulling joon around the trees. You could see the high school just in your view. There was always a broken gate around the back. Unfortunately, for joon it was an extra minute of running. He was panting behind you, and you could also feel your legs giving out. The gate was so close, you reached around little door, opening it from the inside. You shoved it open, yanking joon into the courtyard with you.

“Namjoon! Namjoon!” The girls called out, and if their words were whips, he shuddered away from his own name.

Once you two made it towards the auditorium, you started pushing on all the doors till you found one that was open. You grabbed the front of his shirt, stumbling into one of the locker rooms. You forced the door closed, latching the lock just in time to hear the smack of multiple hands hitting the metal door. You hunched over next to him, both of your breathing heavily.

“Holy shit,” Namjoon had started to laugh between deep breathes.

You looked over at him, and the laughter that was sitting in your chest trickled out slowly. Soon, both of your were laughing hysterically. You both had just out ran a group of fangirls, and broke into a high school. Neither of you could believe what this night was stacking up to be. After a few minutes of falling into each other with giggles, you finally caught your breath, standing up straight.

“This has got to be the boys lockers room,” You crinkled your nose, the stench of unwashed jock straps and sweaty socks filled the air.

“I think you might be right about that. We need to get out of here,” he turned towards the door, but you whipped around, grabbing his hand.

“Wait!” You pulled on him, which made him turn on his heels to look at you.

“What? They should be gone,” his eyebrows sinking to the middle of his forehead.

“Come on, I want to show you something,” you tugged on him, and he followed you. He was starting to think he would follow you anywhere.

“One time you’re going to tell me to follow you, and you’re going to lead me to my death,” he laughed softly, watching you from behind.

You turned your head to look back at him, and in that moment he knew he never wanted to forget your face. He took a mental image of you, and how beautiful you looked under the dim fluorescent lights above the two of you. He’d never forget the way you looked at him, the way you made him feel fully human.

“As long as you hold my hand, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” you swore, and you meant it.

His breath caught in his chest, and without a second thought, he knew he’d do anything to keep you safe. You were a stranger to him, he didn’t know your name, he didn’t know your story, or if you were a sister, a girlfriend, a best friend. He didn’t know you, but he wanted to spend a lifetime figuring it out. The echo of a door opening brought him back to reality. He looked around and he was in what looked like a swimming area.

“I used to come here a lot when I was younger. My friends and I would get drunk on really shitty vodka and break in for a swim,” you started to pull off your shirt, tossing it on the ground.

Joon opened his mouth to speak, but choked on his words, coughing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a girl take her top off, but you were so nonchalant about it, like you two had been best friends for years, and you were comfortable with him. You lifted a brow, gesturing towards his shirt.

“Do you swim fully clothed?” You asked, cocking a brow up.

He swallowed and started to remove his shirt, while you stripped from your jeans, wiggling your hips. He quickly looked away, his cheeks blazing a deep shade of red. You tossed your head back and laughed.

“You’re so cute,” you walked towards the pool, “but cute won’t get you a kiss,” you looked back at him, diving into the pool.

Suddenly, he felt a fire blaze in his stomach. He practically ripped his pants off, stumbling as the bottom of his jeans clung to his ankles.

“Oh come on,” he cursed, flailing his leg around wildly.

He was finally free of the grip his pants had on him. He almost sprinted to the pool, jumping in haphazardly, his body making a small wave that washed over you. You laughed loudly, as he swam over to you, but you couldn’t let him win that easy. You dove under water, swimming between his legs, popping up behind him.

“Darn, so so close,” you splashed him as he turned around.

“That’s it!” He lurched forward, causing you to squeal.

He captured you in his arm, wrapping his limbs around your waist, but the water lubricated your skin, making it easy for you wiggle free by dunking his head down. You tried your hardest to swim away from him, but his fingers attached to your ankle, pulling you back to him.

“No! No! I’m sorry!” You tried to beg for your freedom, but he got you, and he wasn’t letting you go.

He finally had you pressed against his chest, and this time you didn’t fight him. Instead, you wrapped your legs around him, hanging your arms around the back of his neck. He leaned forward, and for a split second you thought he was going to kiss you, but he placed his forehead against yours.

You both sat in silence, just the sound of water splashing the edge of the pool, and your gentle breathing. He had closed his eyes, but you didn’t dare do the same. You weren’t ready to miss a second of his face. The water had taken off any makeup he might have been wearing and his bare skin was showing. It was the prettiest color of tan you’d ever seen, just enough of a sun kissed glow to make his skin look perfect. You could see the small freckle under his lip, and you had the strongest urge to kiss it.

“You’re looking at me,” he whispered without opening his eyes.

“I don’t want to forget anything about you,” you replied in a hushed voice.

In a flash, his cheeks bloomed into a beautiful hue of pink. You’d been able to see him blush before, but now it was so much more intense, you were so close to him now. His lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes, looking at you.

“The sun's coming up… we should get you back to your group,” you brushed the tip of your nose over his.

“You’re right, even if I don’t want you to be,” he sighed, swallowing back the leftover words that he wanted to say, but never would.

After both of you got dressed, soaking your clothes from the wet undergarments you were both wearing, you had started to walk back the way you came. The sun was painting a masterpiece of orange and reds, you swore that if heaven was real, this is what it would look like. You walked hand in hand, joon swinging your arms lightly. You could see the bar getting closer, and you knew this was coming to an end.

“I wish the sun would never rise,” he confessed, stopping in front of the bar.

You smiled sadly, the corner of your lips never fully reaching your eyes. You placed both your hands on his cheeks, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

“You spend too many hours in the night, you need to take a walk in the sun,” you watched as he placed his hand over yours, leaning his cheek into your palm.

“You do the same,” he turned his head to press his lips into your hand, “can I ask you one thing?” He said, barely loud enough for you to hear, “what’s your na—“

He was cut off by your finger over his lips, you shook your head, “Let’s not do that. If you know my name, than it’ll make it harder.”

He looked at you for a moment, searching your eyes. He didn’t want to say goodbye, he didn’t want this to end, but his plane was leaving in just a few hour and his members were losing their mind, not knowing where he was.

“If you ever find yourself back here, you know where to find me,” you glance at the bar, and smile.

You lean into your toes, and he brings his head down slightly, dropping it lower. You press your lips into his forehead, and he hugs you tightly from around the waist. You can’t bare to stay that way, because you’re starting to wonder what would happen if you didn’t let go, so you had too.

“Goodbye, sorrow boy,” you whispered.

“Goodbye, beautiful girl,” he caressed your cheek, before turning away.

He started to walk away, but when he got to the end of the street, he turned around to see you one last time.

You were already gone.

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graduationemmasep · 4 years

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'I like the way MDMA gives you a deep sense of connection to your friends'

I'm no fiend. Most nights I'd rather share a bottle of wine with some friends than stay up till 6am getting sweaty and boggle-eyed on a bender. But while I associate alcohol with talking about past experiences, I associate drugs with making new ones. Party drugs can often make a stranger feel like a confidant; a simple trip to a town centre feel like an Enid Blyton escapade.

I probably take class-A party drugs such as MDMA or cocaine once a fortnight, and have done since I was 16 (I'm 27 now). I like the way cocaine gives you a new lease of life, like a mushroom in Super Mario, to carry on with a night out. I like the way MDMA softens the edges of reality and gives you a deep sense of connection to your friends that you can never get when you meet them for dinner and they moan about their jobs. I like how when you're coming down from a pill another person's touch has a comforting, almost electric capacity. If you're suffering from exhaustion, anxiety or stress, recreational drugs can give you a bit of a leg-up.

Drugs can also be a total pain. Ecstasy can make you feel like you're floating in a cloud, but just as often it's an admin nightmare: you come up at different times from your friends; only half the people in a group remembered to get sorted and there's endless hassle at a party trying to get more. Even when you're having a great time, there's a self-doubting internal monologue running through the whole process: Have I done enough? Am I coming up? Do I look like a prick?

I would just like to have that conversation about drugs being sometimes brilliant and occasionally annoying. Yet I feel like there is no one who is willing to talk about drugs in those terms.

When children ask their parents where babies come from, they get a white lie – a stork delivers them, you find them in a cabbage patch, you order them from Ocado. That's the closest thing I can think of to explain the difference between the perception and the reality of drug use by young people in the UK. There is a societal stork myth that is propagated by the media and popular culture to hide a basic reality. Even users themselves are entirely unwilling to talk about drug-taking honestly. Everything in the drugs world tries to stifle this conversation. Take nightclubs. It doesn't take a genius to work out that staying up till 6am listening to dance music at an ear-splitting volume would not only be unenjoyable without some kind of mind-altering stimulant, but a painful test of endurance. Most people in big nightclubs are on drugs. The clubs know that: that's why they charge so much for entry and, often, for bottles of water. They know that not many people will be buying drinks. Most of them have in-house dealers too, so they can sort out their DJs. Bigger DJs put requests for drugs on their rider. "We just put it on expenses as 'fruit and flowers'," a promoter at a major nightclub told me this year. But there's still a stork charade, with the venue covered in posters promising to eject drug users and bouncers searching punters – but not too thoroughly. The pretence is that this could all be above board.

I suppose the reason for this false picture of drug-taking is that most people don't take drugs. The statistics show that only a small fraction of the UK population are regular drugs users, and a smaller fraction still do anything harder than weed. But drug use is not spread evenly across the country, nor across age groups. In my demographic – under 30, living in London, job in the creative industries, disposable income – almost everyone is a recreational drugs user.

Where I grew up in south London, it was pretty uncommon to find someone who didn't at least smoke weed. The children of more middle-class parents were taking cocaine, ecstasy, ketamine and mephedrone almost every weekend. These were not reprobates ruining their lives: they were intelligent, bright people who got three As at A-level and went to good universities.

We would go to raves in places such as Camberwell and Hackney Wick, to warehouse venues where almost no one was over 18. White powders flowed as freely as the Fanta Fruit Twist and Malibu we were drinking. Festivals played a big part, too. Parents, even quite strict ones who wouldn't dream of letting their kids out past midnight, were happy to send their kids to music festivals, perhaps because of the reverent music-focused coverage in the media.

If you go to somewhere like Reading or Benicàssim, almost everyone is under 20. Half of them barely leave the campsite. Festivals are drugs playgrounds where teenagers experiment with copious amounts of uppers in presumably quite dangerous combinations. Some of the best moments of my life took place going to festivals as a teenager. I remember one muddy year at Glastonbury, racing down the hill arm-in-arm with a bunch of people, all off our faces on MDMA, feeling happier than I had ever felt. Another year, I remember taking mephedrone with a girl I fancied during Blur's headline set, both weeping with joy at a band we'd grown up with our whole lives.

Again, everyone knows this; no one thinks the thousands who watch the sunrise at the stone circle in Glastonbury every year are just on a high from seeing Mumford and Sons. But the festivals keep up the pretence that they are drug-free zones. Even a recent BBC3 show, Festivals, Sex and Suspicious Parents, which was supposed to show parents what their kids really got up to at festivals, ignored the fact that as the cameras panned around the festival, many revellers were plainly as high as a kite, their jaws swinging back and forth like pendulums, a side-effect of taking ecstasy. The voiceover just kept talking about people being "drunk".

I am also part of the first generation of people whose parents are likely to have been drug users. Of course, some adults would be outraged, like the parents on BBC3, to see what their kids got up to. But many more knew only too well – plenty of people I know would smoke weed or share dealers with their parents. In some families drug use had less stigma than smoking.

I thought all this was normal, but at university I met, for the first time, young people who totally abstained from drugs. They mostly came from outside major cities, or outside the UK, and many shivered in horror when they saw the rest of us dabbing our gums with mysterious white powders. I thought there would be a rift in social lives, an us-and-them situation, but it was around that time that mephedrone happened. Known by literally no young person ever as "meow meow", mephedrone was a legal high that changed attitudes towards drug-taking. Polite do-right kids who would never dream of taking illegal drugs were happy to chow down on bombs (self-made wontons of mephedrone powder wrapped in Rizla) like they were no more risqué than chocolate liqueurs.

Mephedrone was incredibly cheap – about a tenner a gram – and incredibly available. You could order it with next-day delivery to your university PO box. Mephedrone was a drugs phenomenon of which I have never seen the likes before or since. Everyone started doing it. I remember visiting a friend at Leeds University during this period. We went to a club and the queue for the men's bogs was at least 70 people long. When I finally got inside the place stunk of mephedrone, you could hear everyone loudly sniffing.

On nights out during this time, everyone would be raging – making out with one another, dancing with total abandon. But the comedowns were immediate and severe, far worse than ecstasy. By 4am people would be lying on the floor sharing the most intimate and personal shames and secrets, as if the drug was somehow compelling them to be honest. Some people called it a truth serum. Friendships were forged in the hot irons of that emotional exposition, as were the most horrendous hangovers.

Mephedrone was banned within two years of it taking off. People talk a lot about one legal high being banned only for another to take its place, but the real legacy of mephedrone was to numb the stigma of harder drugs. By the time I left university, many of the drug abstainers who had tried mephedrone became relaxed about most illegal drugs, too.

Ecstasy and mephedrone make it pretty hard to get much done in the days after taking them. You can't regularly use them and be a successful, functioning adult, so they become a rarer treat once you leave student life. In their 20s most people are overworked: they have second jobs and work incredibly long hours. If they're going to go out on a Friday night they need a pick-me-up. And that is why cocaine remains the young professional's drug of choice.

I see cocaine usage almost every weekend wherever I go: clubs, pubs, people's houses, dinner parties. At fancy celebrity parties, the sort you see on Mail Online, cocaine is so prevalent that it's almost boring. Everyone does it – butter-wouldn't-melt TV presenters, wholesome pop stars adored by your mum, people who would immediately lose their job if anyone found out. Those tabloid stings where they catch someone doing cocaine are kind of hilarious in that respect. If you followed any celebrity around with a secret camera on a Friday night you'd be almost guaranteed to find them doing coke. But cocaine users are like hipsters in the way they will vehemently deny they are one, and cast aspersions on others. "It was just full of self-aggrandising wankers doing coke and talking about themselves," someone will say about a party where they did cocaine and talked about themselves. Most of my friends are cocaine users, but I've never heard them say one nice thing about cocaine.

No doubt some people will have read this piece and think that I am just a monstrous twat, that this has all been little more than infantile boasting in a vain attempt to try to sound cool. But that, too, is part of the cover-up, that any open discussion of using drugs or enjoying them is necessarily a boast. We can talk about great food, great films, great sex, but if we talk about great drugs we immediately sound like we're engaging in some teenage bravado. That's why the biggest taboo surrounding drugs today isn't taking drugs, but saying that they're fun.

I'm not saying that people are lying about the negative effects. I have, of course, seen lives ruined by drugs. Rarely has this been because of an overdose or because someone has ruined themselves financially because of addiction (although I am only 27 – that may yet come). Far more often I have just seen people become dulled through regular drug use: their youthful spark extinguished by a never-ceasing quest to get on it; brains frazzled by overheated synapses. There are friends I want to slap every time I see them doing another line, but I can't because that would be hypocritical.

I also appreciate that's it's easy to be blasé about drug use when you're a well-adjusted middle-class white guy who has never been stopped by the police and has a distant non-social relationship with their drug dealer. For many people, drugs aren't something they can dip in and out of and separate from their lives. People entangled in the economic and legal realities of drugs – dealers, those convicted of possession, addicts – don't have the luxury of my relaxed attitude.

But until we stop pretending that getting high is inherently bad – that drugs can never be brilliant, can never enhance human experience for the better – how can we properly deal with people whose lives have been made worse by drugs? At some point, kids grow up and learn the facts of life. I think it's time we all had the talk.

#research

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bunyoul-blog · 6 years

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title: 4am (I’m really hoping you will stay) pairings: xiaohee summary: All Dongyeol wanted to do was wash his shirt length: 2k extra info: based on the prompt 'you're lying on the floor of the 24/7 laundromat at 3am, it's not my fault that I stood on you' ao3 link

It’s all Jinwook’s fault.

Dongyeol comes to that conclusion pretty quickly as he leaves his dorm room at 3am, hood pulled over his head to block out the cold and his costume for the upcoming theatre production rolled up in his bag. If only his older roommate had been less enthusiastic about singing into his cup of blackcurrant squash, or taken more care to avoid tripping over his phone charger instead of dumping the contents of his cup all over Dongyeol’s costume.

With his dress rehearsal coming up in approximately eight hours, a late-night-come-early-morning trip to the laundromat was in order.

The true College experience.

Dongyeol curses Jinwook and his poor sense of balance as he makes his way quietly down the corridor, fully aware of the fact that waking anyone up- or disturbing a late night study session- would likely get him drop-kicked down the nearest staircase.

He sighs as he steps out into the cold air, the street lamps doing little to illuminate the pavement in front of him. Dongyeol thanks every higher power he can think of for the small mercy that the laundromat is little more than a five minute walk from his accomodation.

It’s eerie wandering the streets so early in the morning. Dongyeol is used to the sight of people rushing to-and-fro: the busy atmosphere of daylight. He prefers to stay indoors past 11pm to avoid the cold, so usually misses out on the sudden stillness of the early morning.

He walks a little faster.

The Laundromat appears deserted when Dongyeol arrives- of course it is, who else would get up at 3am to wash clothes- and he’s grateful for the lights that flicker on as he enters, spreading a murky sort of warmth across the room.

As he heads for one of the machines at the back of the room, Dongyeol’s foot lands on something that definitely isn’t the linoleum floor. At the same time as Dongyeol recoils, the thing he stepped on lets out a muffled noise of distaste.

The thing on the floor is a person, Dongyeol soon finds- a boy with brown hair and a sweater that looks far too big for him, lying face down on the floor of the laundromat. At 3am.

“You stood on me.” The person’s voice is muffled as he speaks, not lifting his head up from the ground.

“You’re the one lying on the floor.” Dongyeol retorts before he can stop himself. “It’s your fault.” Great, you initiated conversation. Now he has permission to fight you.

“Should’ve been looking where you were going.” Fortunately for Dongyeol, the person on the floor doesn’t seem to be in much of a mood for fighting, not moving from his position.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting a person to be lying there.” Dongyeol is tempted to poke the boy with his foot to see if he would respond or not. “Why are you even down there.”

The person shuffles in what seems to be an attempt at a horizontal version of a shrug. “I have an essay on effective vocal warm-ups due in tomorrow and I haven’t started it.” he explains. “So I came here to embrace death.”

“Why the laundromat though?” Dongyeol is invested now; glad for any form of entertainment as he takes his shirt out of his bag and throws it into the nearest machine.

“My roommate told me that I wasn’t allowed to lie on the floor because I was getting in his way, and then Wooseok told me that if I laid down in his room he would call the police.” Another horizontal shrug. “So I’m here instead.”

Dongyeol covers up a laugh as he adjusts the settings on the washing machine and lets it start cleaning the blackcurrant juice stain off his costume.

“You stepped on me so now you need to buy me food.” There’s movement from behind Dongyeol and the boy on the floor sits up. His hair is messy and there’s a red mark on his face from where it’s been pressed against the ground- he looks a little like a kicked puppy and Dongyeol almost feels bad for him.

Almost.

“I’m not buying you food.” Dongyeol is only there to wash his costume.

There’s more movement, and the person from the floor stands up. He’s a little bit shorter than Dongyeol, and his sweater is definitely a few sizes too big for him, the sleeves covering his hands so only the fingertips are visible. There’s an earring in the shape of a star hanging from one of his ears. Dongyeol refuses to call him cute.

“Please?” The person asks again, the same kicked puppy look passing across his face. Dongyeol sighs. He’s always been a dog person.

“Yeah, okay then.” At Dongyeol’s agreement, the boy grins, jumps, and hits his foot on one of the washing machines. Dongyeol doesn’t cover up the fact that he’s laughing this time. “Idiot.”

The statement earns a semi-offended pout from the boy. “My name is Hwanhee, not Idiot.”

“Okay, hi Idiot, I’m Dongyeol.” He lets his laugh upgrade to a grin as Hwanhee whines in response, kicking his foot at the edge of the washing machines again. Dongyeol can practically hear Yein berating him about talking to strangers- yet here he is doing it anyway.

They talk more- Dongyeol finds that Hwanhee is older than him by seven months, that he’s a vocal performance major (a conversation topic that branches into Hwanhee climbing on top of one of the driers and breaking out into a rendition of the Circle of Life.), and that his friend Wooseok is looking for an opportunity to sell him to Satan. Hwanhee finds that Dongyeol is younger and spends a full ten minutes lording it over him, that he’s studying theatre, and that his roomate Jinwook is Clumsy and Insufferable and Doesn’t know how to hold a cup of squash.

Dongyeol transfers his shirt to the drier, glad that the front is no longer stained and smelling of blackcurrant. Hwanhee watches him as he does so. “You didn’t tell me you have a double life as a Victorian-age vampire.” He gestures at the shirt as Dongyeol starts up the drier, pointing out the ruffles and fancy edges.

“It’s for a production I’m part of,” Dongyeol explains. “Dress rehearsal is tomorrow so Jinwook decided to pour his juice all over it while trying to hit the high notes in ‘I will always love you’.”

The drier whirrs quietly in the background, and Hwanhee takes off his shoes, finding that he can slide on the laundromat floor in his socks. Dongyeol joins him after little hesitation. Someone walks past the window, peering in at the two college students racing each other around the washing machines, shaking their head and walking on as Hwanhee waves, face scrunching up in a wide grin. The passerby steps out of view, and both collapse into a fit of laughter, Hwanhee grabbing onto Dongyeol’s arm to keep himself upright as his mismatched socks slip on the floor.

It all feels startlingly natural.

The drier finishes up with a shrill tone, surprising Dongyeol out of his dramatic retelling of the time his friend Sungjun got stuck up a climbing frame in the kids playground. As he fetches his shirt, folding it up and placing it back in his bag, Hwanhee leans over his shoulder.

“You owe me food now.” Ah. Dongyeol had forgotten about his earlier promise to apologise via offerings of food.

As good as Hwanhee’s company is, Dongyeol didn’t expect his quick trip to the laundromat to be followed up with walking around the streets at 4am, the roads deserted and the time too early even for partygoers to be walking around. More than anything, Dongyeol is tired- he wants nothing more than to sit down somewhere and maybe drink an entire bucket of coffee. A glance to his right tells him that Hwanhee is also tired, yawning loudly and reaching up to rub at his eyes with the edges of his sleeves.

The star earring swings as Hwanhee walks. Still not cute; Dongyeol reminds himself.

They find a 24 hour diner, the neon sign above the door not fully functional and the seats a little worse for wear as they drop down into them- but neither of them are complaining. There only seems to be one person working there, and she appears both tired and bored as she walks over to take their orders. Hwanhee empties a criminally large amount of sugar into his coffee once it arrives, and Dongyeol steals some of his pancakes despite having a plate of his own.

Conversation is minimal; both of them too concentrated on refueling their energy to bother with speaking. Dongyeol laments that he’s going to be dead on his feet for his rehearsal, and Hwanhee sighs, announcing that he has accepted his fate that his professor is going to violently murder him.

Dongyeol may be starting to regret his life choices. Staying up till 3am the day before a performance for an impromptu karaoke session was a bad idea in itself; but wandering around the streets at night and winding up eating pancakes in a 24 hour diner was a whole other level of poor decision making.

He glances at Hwanhee across the table, his sweater sleeves threatening to slip down his hands and fall in his golden syrup. At least he has company.

One of the diner lights flickers overhead, and a car passes by outside, its headlights reaching in through the windows like a searchlight, casting a brief patterns of shadows and highlights on Hwanhee’s face. Hwanhee- with his loud laugh, his messy hair, his star-shaped earring.

Who no longer feels like a stranger.

“We should split the cost of the food.” Dongyeol speaks up, pulling his bag onto his lap to search through it for coins. Hwanhee looks down to examine his pockets.

“I-” He glances off to the side, sheepish. “Don’t have enough money.”

Dongyeol halts his search of his bag. “And neither do I.”

They take a look at their plates, pancakes fully eaten, and the minimal selection of coins that they’ve each managed to pull out, not even reaching half the cost of their food. Another glance, towards the sole member of staff at the diner reveals that she looks half asleep- not concentrating.

“We could sneak out?” Dongyeol whispers his idea, hesitant, towards Hwanhee.

“We don’t really have any other choice, do we?” They use a pen lying in the bottom of Dongyeol’s bag to scribble a hasty ‘sorry’ on one of the napkins, then crouch down on the floor of the diner and shuffle out of their seats, deciding that the best way to avoid detection would be to crawl around the booths then out of the door, relying on the diner staff being too dead to the world to notice them leaving.

Hwanhee has a firm grip on Dongyeol’s wrist as they shuffle along the floor, turning around to press a finger against his lips in an attempt to hush the younger when he threatens to start laughing at the sight of Hwanhee nearly slipping on a biscuit wrapper. When they’re close to the door, Hwanhee starts quietly humming the mission impossible theme, and Dongyeol reaches forwards to clamp a hand over Hwanhee’s mouth to shut him up. Dongyeol can feel Hwanhee grinning against his hand, eyes scrunching up. They keep moving.

The moment they get out of the door, Dongyeol grabs onto Hwanhee and runs, sprinting down the street as the other laughs and stumbles to catch up, tripping on the pavement.

“We just broke the law,” Hwanhee speaks, breathless, once they’re far away from the diner, leaning up against a lamppost to catch his breath. “We’re partners in crime now.”

All Dongyeol came out to do was wash his shirt.

The time on Dongyeol’s phone reads 4:23am, and the coffee is only just taking the edge off his tiredness. Hwanhee yawns next to him, stretching his arms into the air and announcing, “I should go home now.” He digs around in his pockets, evidently searching for his keys.

“I should head back too,” Dongyeol responds. “If I don’t get back, Jinwook will-”

“I didn’t bring my keys with me.” Hwanhee cuts him off, voice filled with a sense of dread that is honestly far too dramatic for the situation. “I can’t get back to my dorm.”

Dongyeol expects Hwanhee to pull out his phone and maybe call his roommate, or ask a friend if he can sleep at their dorm. What he doesn��t expect Hwanhee to do is sit down on the pavement and burst into tears.

Truthfully, Dongyeol is more taken aback than anything else. One moment Hwanhee is laughing and kicking at an empty soda can on the ground, and the next he’s sitting in the middle of the street, sweater sleeves pressed against his face and his breath coming out in hiccups.

Dongyeol doesn’t know what to do, so naturally he calls Yein.

He knows Yein probably won’t be too happy about it- his mom friend duties only apply from 7am till 10pm- but Dongyeol is desperate.

The phone rings once, twice, then Yein picks up, voice sounding sleepy and confused. “Dongyeol it’s 4am.”

“I have an issue.” Hwanhee is still crying next to him, saying something about how he’s never going to get home again, and a car drives past, the driver giving them both strange looks as they pass by.

“Was that a car? Are you outside?” The worry kicks into Yein’s voice. “Dongyeol why are you outside right now? Are you okay?”

“What do you do when a human version of a puppy who you’ve known for approximately 2 hours sits down on the pavement and starts crying because he can’t find his keys.” Dongyeol already realises how ridiculous the situation is, but it sounds even worse when put into words.

There’s silence from Yein’s end of the line, then an exhausted sounding “It’s too early for this.” before he hangs up.

And so Dongyeol is on his own with this one.

“Hey Hwanhee, you can sleep at my dorm for tonight if you want?” Dongyeol crouches next to Hwanhee, placing a hand on his shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting manner. The other boy looks up from between his fingers. His eyes are red, and he looks tired, tears smudged down his cheeks, catching the light from the overhead streetlamps slightly.

There’s a small nod from Hwanhee, then he pulls himself to his feet, rubbing at his eyes with the corners of his sleeves. “Could I?”

“Well I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t okay with it.” Dongyeol laughs, poking Hwanhee’s shoulder. He leads Hwanhee in the direction of his dorm, back along the deserted streets and past the laundromat, its lights turned off once again. Once again; he can feel Yein berating him for talking to strangers.

This is what happens when I’m left to make my own decisions. Dongyeol muses to himself, glancing across at Hwanhee, who looks like he’s about to fall asleep where he stands. What harm could he do anyway.

They enter the dorm quietly, making their way up to Dongyeol’s room with light footsteps so as not to wake anyone. Jinwook is asleep on his own bed, half buried in his duvet, and Dongyeol turns to Hwanhee to signal for him to be as quiet as possible. In his half asleep state, Hwanhee mimes zipping his lips closed and throwing away a key.

“There’s nowhere to sleep except for my bed,” Dongyeol whispers. “I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

In response, Hwanhee kicks his shoes off and sits down heavily on the edge of the bed, shuffling over to the side closest to the wall and curling up to leave room for Dongyeol. He’s asleep by the time the younger joins him. Dongyeol lies down and closes his eyes, hoping to make the most of the two hours sleep he has time for. An arm lands on top of Dongyeol’s stomach, and he soon finds a sleeping Hwanhee crowded into his personal space.

Of course he’s a sleep-cuddler.

Dongyeol sighs, turns over and attempts to fall asleep. Hwanhee can be a problem for his future self to deal with.

“Dongyeol, why is there a boy in your bed with you?” Dongyeol wakes up to Jinwook standing over him and Hwanhee’s face lost somewhere in the spot between his neck and his shoulder.

“I found him at the laundromat last night and now we’re partners in crime.” Dongyeol explains sleepily, waving his hand as if to shoo his roommate away. Jinwook is silent for a while, before speaking.

“Does he want breakfast?”

“I don’t know,” In response, Dongyeol shrugs and rolls over to face Hwanhee. He’s still asleep- his hair has somehow become even more messy overnight and he’s drooling on Dongyeol’s pillow a little bit. He wrinkles his nose up and makes a small noise of distaste as Dongyeol pokes him in the cheek to wake him. Still not cute. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Hwanhee untangles himself from Dongyeol and sits up, stretching and yawning loudly. “Maybe not pancakes though.”

One successful dress-rehearsal later, Dongyeol receives a text from an unknown number.

[unknown]

i ate wooseok’s cereal and now he’s trying to kill me

please help

this is hwanhee btw

i got your number from your roommate

hope you don’t mind

anyway i fear for my life please help

Save contact as [puppy] ?

[dongyeol]

you remember where my dorm is right?

#up10tion #xiaohee #hwanhee #xiao #this is a mess #i wrote it in the space of 3 days #why do i only get motivation for stupid stuff #writing #long post

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outofcontext-voltron · 7 years

Text

Homecoming

((Some y’all said I should post this so that’s what I’m doing hope you like it??))

Airports were terrible. Airports are terrible. So many people bustling to and from, people sprinting to make their flights, people complaining loudly, a baby shrieking possibly solely for purpose of making everyone else want to commit either homicide or suicide. Keith couldn’t stand it, staring at the child with intense hatred knowing full well the only thing he’d accomplish is scaring it more. His dog lying under the bench he waited on did nothing to comfort him in his tired state, it only whined at the occasional pet that passed by. He almost regretted getting up so early, at 4AM, only to have the flight delayed by three hours. He’d already killed time wandering around, skimming through magazines at stands, half heartedly looking at the souvenirs for his home city, drinking more coffee than he, rationally speaking, should. There weren’t many places he could go with a dog and his car in airport valet, so he sat patiently. The large clock high on the wall struck 8, and he’d officially been waiting four hours. And now, his phone was dead. Wonderful. At least the baby was gone.

He slumped against the bench back and began drifting off into dreamland. Only using half his brain to knot the leash around his hand, and leaning back to fall asleep despite the cheap, harsh lighting. He didn’t dream, as per usual, only floated in and out of consciousness until someone rudely shoved his shoulder. He wasn’t proud of the irritated and frustrated groan he gave the airport worker, but he didn’t really care anymore. She jumped a bit and hesitated before informing him that he couldn’t sleep there. How spectacular, she thought he was homeless.

“I’m sorry,” he grumbled, sitting up and running a hand through his bedhead as if that would do anything to tame it. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh! I am so sorry sir,” she apologized profusely after realizing her mistake. After convincing her it was fine she left him alone with a final comment about how cute his dog was. Keith chuckled to himself and affectionately patted his dog on the head, just barely remembering when it had crawled out from under the bench to sit by his leg. He looked at the clock and it read 9:36 AM, he’d snoozed for over another hour. No wonder that worker came over to check up on him. She’d probably lost the rock, paper, scissors game with her coworkers to see who’d kick out the dirty hobo with the dog. Keith discreetly sniffed himself, wishing he’d taken a shower instead of essentially just rolling out of bed and jumping in the car that morning.

“Hey, Azul,” he pet his dog’s head again. “Do I stink?” Azul only lovingly rubbed her cheek on his knee as he scratched under her ear. “You’re far too kind, I know I smell it’s okay, girl.” Habitually he took out his phone, only remembering it was dead after clicking the home button a few too many times as was necessary. He cursed his past self, not thinking to do anything but throw on the jeans he wore yesterday, which fortunately still had his wallet and keys in the pockets, and keep the sweater he slept in. He could be sitting across the way with those three teenagers and one businessman at the charging station. Wasn’t ideal but it was better than making conversation with his dog. Azul snuck her head between his knees and looked up at him with her big powder blue eyes, whining at him before jumping up to place her two front paws on his thighs and come eye to eye with her human. Keith sighed through a weak smile as she licked his cheek.

“I know, girl, I miss him too.” He held the Blue Bay Shepherd’s head in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “But he’s coming back today. Hopefully, unless the storm delays his flight till tomorrow.” Azul smelled of home, her soft and fluffy fur tickling Keith’s nose as he kissed her nose, only narrowly avoiding getting a slobbery lick on the lips. He glanced over to the board full of blinking lights displaying the flight schedule, but couldn’t exactly see what he needed too because of it’s distance and his fatigued eyes. And he didn’t feel like walking over to it either. He’d already committed to waiting in uncertainty after the first time the flight was delayed due to a surprise snow storm. This was fine.

It actually wasn’t fine but there was nothing he could do to change the situation. He took Azul for another walk around the airport, stopping to get a snack for his grumbling stomach and buy a book. An Agatha Christie that looked fairly intriguing and was surprisingly cheap. On his way back Keith stumbled on his shoelace he didn’t notice had come undone. After taking a moment to let out a distressed sigh, he took the leash between his teeth and crouched down to tie the laces of his beat up converse. Azul began whining again, but it fell on deaf ears as Keith concentrated on trying to tie the shoelace while holding a novel and a bagel in a paper bag at the same time. His dog began pulling and he feebly asked her to stop in a mumbled voice. She kept pulling though, and now she was barking and crying out, and now Keith was annoyed. He dropped the book and bagel to the floor between his feet and used his now free hands to quickly attempt to tie the laces in time to reign in Azul. Then the leash was painfully ripped from his teeth as the shepherd bolted off unfortunately just as he finished double knotting the laces. He cursed and tried calling her back angrily but the command died on his lips as he looked up to see what she had shot off after.

Keith choked on his breath, already feeling tears welling even though he promised Azul in the car ride there several hours ago that he wouldn’t cry. A hand reached up to cover his mouth in slight disbelief and shock. He took a few hesitant steps forward, then broke out into an all out sprint following the dog’s path.

“Lance!” Keith yelled happily as he almost tackled his boyfriend to the ground leaping into his arms. Azul barked and jumped circles around the two young men with unimaginable excitement. They both laughed at the sight through teary eyes and huge smiles, embracing as tightly as if their lives depended on not letting go. Keith buried his face into the crook of Lance’s neck, grabbing at the back of the army issued uniform as he kept his legs wrapped firmly around his boyfriend’s waist. Lance held him up with an iron clad grip, hiding his freely flowing tears on Keith’s shoulder, staining the vibrantly blue hoodie that was most definitely Lance’s before he had left.

They didn’t speak for what felt like decades, just breathed in each other’s scent and warmth, reveling in their happy reunion. When they finally looked each other in the eyes the tears came back stronger than ever as they kissed. Kissing deeply, shedding all the longing they’d built up over the few months shy of a 3 year long service, as if kissing each other was like coming home. But in a way it actually was like coming home. Keith lost himself in Lance, tangling fingers in his hair, taking his tongue into his mouth, kissing him to the point where he felt his lips begin bruising and his lungs burning and screaming for air. Panting as they parted, and touching their foreheads as they both gasped for oxygen, they chuckled for no real reason. Until the thought of the scene they were making crossed their minds around the same time, then they were laughing for a reason. It was so disgustingly cliché, but that didn’t really matter as a they heard a group of younger girls began fawning over the scene they were making in the middle of the airport. A moment later Lance let Keith down to stand and wiped a rolling tear off his boyfriend’s cheek. Keith reached up and held the cold hand against his face, a much missed smile spreading across his face at the touch. Azul shoved her way in between the two, jumping up to get more attention from her true owner, Lance.

“My sweet baby girl!” Lance crouched down to hug his dog, burying his face in her muted cobalt fur and expressing how much he missed her in baby talk. Azul slobbered all over his face as she licked him, but he couldn’t care less at the drool. He was home finally, that’s all he cared about. He looked up to see Keith giggling, rubbing his tired eyes with his sleeve and grinning ear to ear, adorable dimples on full display. Lance couldn’t help but stand up to kiss Keith once again.

“Fuck,” he breathed against his boyfriend’s lips. “I missed you so much, Keith.”

“I guess I missed you too,” Keith smiled at the scoff his comment drew from Lance.

“Well geez, I’ve only been fighting a war for three years.” They snickered, shortly embracing once again. The feeling of each other’s chests rising and falling in deep breaths, the silence that was only achieved by tuning out the rest of the world, it was so surreal, too perfect to be true. But it was true, they were together again, finally. Lance planted a kiss right under Keith’s ear and pointed out how this was almost exactly like a romantic comedy he saw once. It wasn’t his choice to see it, of course, he was roped into it by friends, obviously, and didn’t enjoy the movie at all. Keith just sighed contently into Lance’s shoulder as that familiar voice filled his ears, warm breath tickling his skin.

“How cheesy would it be if I proposed to you right now?” Lance asked playfully. Keith shook his head with a short laugh. He opened his mouth to answer, Jesus, that would be so terribly cheesy, but the words got stuck in his throat as Lance’s hands fell from his waist and he dropped to one knee with one hand rooting around in his pocket.

“Oh my god,” Keith placed a hand over his mouth and choked back the new tears that began prickling at his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Lance, I can’t believe you.”

“Keith,” Lance beamed up at his boyfriend, ring box in hand. “You know this is exactly the kind of thing I would do.” His fingers hovered over the box before opening it, letting the diamonds and gold catch the light and glitter.

“Keith Kogane, will you-” Lance was interrupted by Azul barking and hopping up onto his back to lick the back of his ear. The weight of the large dog pushed him over and making his foot slip to where he was on both knees. His knee stung with mild pain as it hit the tile floor, but he hollered with laughter anyways as he shrugged Azul off his back.

“Keith,” he tried to restart, but a slobbery tongue on his chin stopped him in his tracks.

“Shut up, of course I’ll marry you.” Keith pulled Lance up by his collar and kissed him firmly, wrapping his arms around his neck to keep him close. Azul tried to insert herself again but they held onto each other tighter this time to prevent their embrace from being broken again.

“Should Azul be our something blue at the wedding?” Lance joked, kissing the twinkling smile plastered on Keith’s face. Keith nodded with a glance down at their dog, wagging her tail fiercely and searching for a way to stick herself in between their legs. He leaned down and grabbed her leash up off the floor to keep her from going anywhere, even though he doubted she would with Lance around.

“Let’s go home.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The buzz of the highway filled the silence of the car, the snowy road crunching under the wheels. Keith put all his focus on driving, fighting his urge to hold Lance’s hand or look over at those baby blues, because he knew he’d crash if he got lost in those eyes. Lance leaned over the center console, the whole drive just watching Keith. Watching him flip on his turn signal, sneer at pedestrians not using the crosswalk, do all of the things he does while driving, things Lance had desperately missed seeing. He took in the view, noticing how tired his fiancé was now that he was getting a better look. The sight tugged at his heartstrings, the image of the tried, messy, love of his life crawling out of an empty bed in the small hours of the morning to wait hours for him in a dinky airport. That was what love was, he thought. Love was doing the only thing you hated the most, in Keith’s case getting up before noon, and not complaining at all. Just waiting patiently. Although it was clear it irritated Keith to do nothing but sit and wander like a zombie, he still did it. He did exactly that for three years, and this had been the home stretch.

As they pulled into the driveway Azul began pacing and whining in the back seat, recognizing that they were home and wanting to go inside. The two men got out and both opened the back doors for the dog without realizing the other had it covered. Azul looked back and forth between the two exits for a moment, then chose Lance’s side, and they both chuckled as she bounded up the porch steps to their front door.

“Lance,” Keith said just before his fiancé had time to close the car door. They looked through the inside of car at each other and Keith leaned in with a smile. Lance followed suit and ducked into the car, kissing Keith over the back seat with a wide grin. They lingered close to each other for a moment before a bark called their attention.

“Our child is calling us,” Lance pointed out with a small chuckle. Keith rolled his eyes with a smile, planting a kiss on Lance’s nose before exiting the car and walking up the porch steps. Lance grabbed his bags from the trunk and looked up to see Azul and Keith waiting for him in the open doorframe, the two things he loved most welcoming him home with bright and joyous expressions.

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brangwyn · 7 years

Text

I sleep. I dream. I make up things that I would never say. I say them very quietly.

“would you believe me if i said i love you,” she whispers to the darkness in her room, bundled under the covers her eyes are staring at everything but nothing at once. if she squints hard enough, her eyes betray themselves and an invisible shadow comes to form a familiar shape among the black.

“that i trust you even after all we’ve been through…from first meeting till now,” these are words she would rather speak to the illusions of her mind than the actual person she is targeting. embarrassing, but more so than feeling so ashamed of the vocabulary which belongs in a romance novel, she feels exposed. vulnerable. something she is scared of feeling around him. not yet.

so she whispers them to the darkness that is her friend. so she whispers them until sleep captures her eyes. she dreams of him, she will always dream of him. in her dreams he is everything she wants him to be. she likes to pretend that her dreams are real, but when morning comes and she wakes up to the filter of light through her windows, she knows she should stop building her hope on illusions.

“i would give up my world for you,” she murmurs, a final imprint of her thoughts upon the mirror she is glancing at before she heads to school.

I hope it’s love. I’m trying really hard to make it love.

it is 9am. it is bags placed against the chair, arms laid to rest upon the desk with paper and pencil upon it. it is lingering eyes which glance at a figure in the distance. a figure she had entwined fingers with upon the sheets a few hours earlier. a figure now that does not pretend to know her, but she can’t seem to do the same. he says he’s doing it for her, for their relationship. she hopes so.

it is 2pm. it is sitting under the golden afternoon rays in the library with a book open. it is trying to memorise the scattered notes written through her text while a hand snakes themselves upon her thighs slowly. he is her tutor, unexpectedly a person who is smart for all the lack of studying he does and she knows she needs him. he is so frighteningly talented, charming and perfect. moments like these she fills herself with doubt. but also moments like these, she forgets everything when he presses his lips against her crown.

it is 7pm. it is food upon the table, steam slowly disappearing as the dishes begin to cool. it is one person at a table made for two, sitting, hand clasped upon her lap, waiting and waiting. she already knows that the person who should be sitting across from her won’t come. that she should just make food for herself, eat by herself and never expect him to come. but she is foolish, still hopeful and so she still thinks in the world of possibilities.

it is 4am. it is soft hushed breathing that comes to a stop as another figure slips into her room. it is a confused sleepy glance, quiet conversations and then an escalation of sighs. it is her brain slowly waking up and knowing that it’s better to stop things before it becomes too complicated again and again. a part of her should refuse him because there are so many things they need to talk about. but in the end, she forgets them all for she ends up convincing herself that this is how he expresses himself. even if it didn’t match her.

Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.

she refuses to speak, she knows that if she does open her mouth then only a cry would escape along with tears. her voice would crack if she spoke, her eyes would waver. these are all things she does not and cannot do. he has always lived the life of a prodigal son. but she can’t allow it any longer. her heart will break. or maybe his will with his indulgence.

the room is almost exaggerating the quiet that spans between the two of them. something so different from the usual atmosphere between the two of them, which now that she thinks back, has always been so loud. for someone like her who prefers the silence to enjoy the voices between them, through laughter, through conversation and more he had accomplished so much. it was perhaps why the lack of noises she once enjoyed now seems so foreign and scary.

her suitcase draws out with a screech upon the floor, as if it offers a stubborn protest for her for things she herself could not say but wanted to say. he is watching, she can sense his stare drilling into her back. she wants to turn around and look, to see what his expression is, to see if it’s as pathetic as the one she’s had for so long when she’s alone waiting for him. or perhaps, it would be his signature nonchalance and smirk to prove in the end it had just been her. that it had always been her.

the door closes with a quiet click. the rest is a blur, she vaguely remembers going down the evaluator and walking but it is only until she’s a few blocks away that everything comes crashing down. her heart is aggressively pulsating, her feet finally give away as she comes crashing to the ground. her suitcase too goes crashing and she doesn’t even bother to worry about the scratches that may be formed or the small pebbles digging into her knees. at the moment, the only thing which she can think about is the gaping wound bleeding in her heart.

Even when I look away I am still looking.

she skims his vision, never willing to enter it once more but he will always be there for her. they are in the same class again, she had expected him to move after everything has occurred but perhaps both their stubbornness did accumulate to something. something that has her skimming his vision but he always enters her’s. she watches how he brushes another girl’s hair away from her shoulders to whisper something. an ugly monster roars within, but she allows it to go into a frenzy. if that means being able to look at him longer, she would risk it.

perhaps it’s the stress, the lack of time that finally takes a toll even on him. she finds him asleep in the library, some spin of irony having them both choosing to sit where they used to when they studied together. seeing him there makes her heart beat so loudly it’s a surprise he’s still asleep. but more than the soft portrait which has her reminiscing over their past, she worries for him. a few minutes later there are some cookies and a warm cup of coffee beside him before she slips off again.

she hears a familiar laugh in the luscious green quad as she sits nearby, underneath the shade to hide away from the summer heat. he is surrounded by a crowd, popular as always, which conceals her from his vision. he is brilliant, shining and she wishes that the glances were directed at her like they once were. but this was a wish that would no longer be fulfilled. eyes quickly glance back down at her laptop when he stares out into the open, letting her long hair conceal her face. his voice is enough, she can no longer be greedy.

he is sick. she notices how he tries to conceal his cough, how there is the red tinge on his nose and droopy eyes so alike a sicken child. she wants to make him some soup, to knock on his doors and help nurse him better. to provide him the notes for the classes he missed. she doesn’t. not even because she is in no position to help but because she notices another figure in his life. it may be one-sided, it may be not. she does not know, but the other girl is vocal and that is enough for her to keep quiet. for this is no longer something she can fight or speak out on. after all, she was the one who left him.

Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.

@athaza

#athaza

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aroundtheglobeandbackagain · 6 years

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•• Moscow-Ow Part #1••

“Alright this is it. This is the address of your hotel.” Declared the driver as he pulled up to a nondescript brick building. He had picked us up less than half an hour before at 4am when we finally stumbled off the oppressive four day long train to sweet fresh air and freedom.

We groggily inquired, “…Are you sure?” squinting at the uninviting building, “Where’s the… hotel?”

That turned out to be a very good question, one that wouldn’t be answered for almost an hour.

After circumnavigating the building by foot, which appeared to have no obvious entrance, we eventually found a small piece of paper tacked to a plain door that had the name of our supposed hotel printed on it. Ahah! Triumphant at last. However, upon further inspection of the Russian words beneath by our driver (who turned out to be a very good guy to help us with this) he sheepishly told us the paper stated that the check-in time was not untill 2pm, it being currently about 4:45 AM that wasn’t the best news. But oh wait it got better! It also stated that the hotel was no longer active on these premises as it had been closed down. The driver looked at us apologetically but shrugged, seeming to say ‘well that’s rotten luck, but there’s not much I can do about it”.

There wasn’t much we could do about it either. It would be impossible to find somewhere else to stay at this point, not only because it would be for that night for three people and expensive in a big city like Moscow but the World Cup was on right now. Everything had been booked up for months. Any hotel room you could find at this point would be astronomically expensive (later we looked up the cost for one night in the Radison which we could see taunting us from across the river and it was over $2,000 usd). We didn’t even have a Russian SIM card to make local calls to try to sort this mess out. Not to mention we were tired, hungry and probably smelled even worse than we looked having not showered in the past five days.

We begged the car driver to use his phone and after much angry yelling, numerous calls to people less than pleased to be woken up before 5am, plenty of broken English and broken Russian, and a fair bit of irritated stomping in circles a young groggy guy met us and walked us the block to the new location of the ‘hotel’.

After being led into another nondescript, decidely un-hotel like building and up to the sixth floor we were met by a very angry Russian lady. I thought Papa K could be scary when angry, this lady was terrifying. After being serverly reprimanded for talking too loudly and waking up other patrons and for arriving well before check-in time we got her on the phone with our travel agent (that had made this disastrous booking). They argued for a while, then we argued with the travel agent, then the travel agent argued with her some more, and so on until finally a resolution had been achieved with which no parties were very satisfied. We DID have a room for the next three nights (which had by no means been a sure thing throughout this process) but we could not have it, or anywhere to be, until 2pm. Which is how we ended up spending the next several hours chilling on a cement air vent eating convenience store breakfast wraps and drinking a liter of juice from the carton. The only silver lining to the morning was the chance it afforded us to watch the city from the bank of the river in the wee hours of the morning when it was still peaceful.

At 9am we met with our tour guide who was supposed to give us a couple hour walking tour of the city. We had still not showered since our four day train or changed clothes, but we set out to get the lay of the land embracing our unavoidable grossness at this point. She showed us where the main sites were including the entrance to the Kremlin, the main promenades, the Bolshoi Ballet theater, and one phenomenal supermarket. Opened inside the old mansion of some past royalty or well-to-do in old upper class Russian society, this supermarket is like any other selling eggs and milk and frozen hotdogs except it’s located in an insanely opulent and lavish room: chandeliers, deep purple walls, huge gold stucco embellishing the walls and ceiling. After our guide left us we continued on to see the Novodevichy Convent which was unfortunately mostly under construction with the famous gold dome hidden under scaffolding. Mid afternoon we returned to our hotel where we could finally enter our ‘room’. Sharing a bathroom with several other rooms, it also felt like our room might have been converted to house guests a bit last minute as it was next to the staffs room and housed a couple of odd chairs and other stored items. But I finally got to take that blessed shower and wash off 5 days of grime.

The next day we journeyed to Sergiyev Posad by train, which turned out to be a bit of an adventure locating the correct train but all went well and 2 hours later we arrived in the town. We walked through town to what drew both tourist and pilgrims to this place:

●Trinity Monastery of St. Sergius

It was founded in 1340 by Russia’s patron saint, St. Sergius of Radonezh and is the holiest site in the country. An epicenter of Eastern Orthodox worship, pilgrims have been journeying here since the 14th century. Within the bright gold and blue complex, we admired the gold domed Trinity Cathedral, the 1585 Cathedral of Assumption, the tomb of Boris Godunov who is the only tsar not buried in the Kremlin or in the SS Peter and Paul Cathedral in St Peteresburg, and the bright vision of the teal five-tiered bell tower.

We wandered through the souvenir market on our way back through the town, stopping to pick up some ingredients to cook dinner and some bread stuffed with potato or cheese for lunch.

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