There he was again, adding the extra sir out of good measure. The ‘respect’ didn’t do anything for him — if anything, listening was the best sign of respect one could possible give.
“I told you — don’t call me sir. I prefer Prof. Yoo, if you’re into formalities,” he continued calmly, with one raised eyebrow, pointedly pointing to a small block with his name written in neat pixel-ized writing, sitting happily on his desk. It was in writing. It didn’t make him especially angry… It just outlined another distinguishing factor between highschool and college/university — he went by Professor Yoo if you were uptight, Lecturer Yoo if you were struggling and Gongyoo by the end of a 3-year term in his class. Just another fact of life.
But the thing that entertained him (making a internal concoction containing both amused and alarmed,) was the two distinct personalities he witnessed switching, swapping in split seconds. It, they, whatever you would call it, moved from one to another without merging solidly. The voice laced with sarcasm and satire, and the humble, almost scripted reassurance a few seconds later. He doubted that the latter was truly genuine, if genuine at all. It wasn’t that his brain capacity wasn’t large enough to cope, it was just that he hadn’t really set aside space for such occurrences. That was why, with a small and tired sigh, he let everything go.
His fingers wrapped around the nearest Biro pen he could find, and his eyes glanced at the name tag the other had neatly pinned to his chest, confirming the spelling of Siwoo’s name. ‘Kim Siwoo. Economics.’ was scribbled on a blue post it note and stuck to his desk top computer as a reminder.
“Done. Anything else?” And the question was asked with a mixture of wariness, tiredness, obligation and… Curiosity. Yes, distinct inquisitiveness. He would have liked to add a ‘you can come to me anytime for anything’ but it probably wasn’t true. Besides, Economics lecturers prided themselves in their bluntness and ability to be cynical, against all of the odds.
Siwoo nodded his head after listening to the other’s order to just call him Professor Yoo and not that “sir” that he despised so much. He sighed, soft and almost inaudible before nodding again.
He watched as the man scribbled his own name to a post it before placing it where he could see it clearly. Thinking that the teacher did in front of him, Siwoo was somewhat relieved that he’ll finally have a class under him, and also that he had triumphed over this small ordeal. His shoulders relaxed and his face curved to one that complements his relaxed body.
After the relief of finally securing one of his subjects, he wondered as to why the professor gave in to his wish. Did he said something or did he just pushed the said male to a corner, making him just go and accept him knowing that he could be a tad persistent. But enough with all those doubts, he was finally accepted, and that’s all that mattered right now.
He stood up, and couldn’t help but stifle a laugh because there was still a tint of hostility with his words. He shook his head slightly with his mind thinking if the teacher really detests his guts or rather, if the guy was mad at him for standing against him and his decision. He bowed as what a student would do, then straightening his back for a smile. “Everything’s fine now, Professor Yoo. What you just did was enough and it makes my heart flutter with joy.” He muttered before placing a hand to his chest and lips twitching to a smile.
“Because of my circumstance, i pestered you and went against your first decision, i’ve caused you a lot of trouble and yet you still kept your cool and actually gave what i want. My apologies for my rudeness and persistence .” He bowed his head slightly.
It was a quaint little café, Seunghyun noted to himself as his large frame slid through the gap of the door-frame and entered the warm building. The pungent smell of hot coffee beans and pastries assaulted his senses the moment he shrugged into the warmth of the place; it wasn’t unpleasant, by any standard, and although it perhaps wasn’t the quality that he was used to it was almost comforting, like a mother’s hug or the warmth of a pet, something to associate with childhood and memories. He drew in a deep breath, allowing the aroma to slide deeper into him and warm him up before the coffee had even entered his system in liquidated form.
A tiny smile pulled at the corners of Seunghyun’s lips as he strode over to an unoccupied table by the window, shoulders forever drawn straight with purpose and chiselled chin lifted high with pride. After dusting a few loose crumbs from the table with a handkerchief, which he quickly slid back into the sleeve of his suit jacket thereafter, the prep took a seat at the table and looked around for a server with dark, interested eyes.
Siwoo was just behind the counter when someone entered the scene. The man was clad with nothing but an air of some kind of confidence, arrogance would be a perfect term to describe it to Siwoo but he just can’t title someone like that easily, he had already learned his lesson.
He watched as the male sat on an unoccupied wooden table, eyes scanning at the area, and Siwoo thought that he might be scrutinizing people with his devil like eyes. Right from there Siwoo had already started to hate the guy, stranger yet still worthy of the hate title in his mind. A nudge from the guy behind the counter was what forced him to be in his situation right now.
He knew that it was a wrong conduct to frown at customers, but even though he can smile at him, act nice and stuff, it doesn’t mean that he’ll do it. He gave the menu to him and waited beside him with his note up and a pen. “What do you want?” He muttered before glaring, subconsciously, at him.
There was no end to the black color, the darkness that continued to go on and on until his eyes opened. It was sudden, no flickering lights and no stutter to his eye-lids. A hospital and the familiar face beside him, asleep on his cast.
“What a shame,” He whispered, deciding not to use any effort or inflict pain on himself to sit up.
The help came much quicker than he expected it to be. Before the male completes his sentence, Siwoo was shoved away by men with a stretcher. They carefully moved the stretcher to his side, held the wounded’s body with care and placed him on the hard plank before pushing it inside the vehicle. He was forced to go with them since he was the only one present, and well acquainted to the guy being treated continuously by the medics.
He was asked by common questions and Siwoo answered them with sincerity, though most of his response was a cold “I don’t know” since it was the truth. The others looked at him incredulously as Siwoo watched the scenes outside the ambulance shift from shops to nature then to the concreted buildings again.
Maybe his place there was nothing important, was he just a spectator, a victim turned hero, or maybe he was just bored, but he found himself inside the hospital buildings, a doctor clad in pure white coat in front of him stating things about the male’s situation. Though because he was not really interested by anything from it, all words just came in and out of his ears, few were left behind but most of it crashed to the ground, forgotten and stepped by others.
The attendants gave him his clothes and his phone when they changed his clothes. He knew that intruding someone’s personal belongings would be something that one shouldn’t do, but he needs it. He scrolled through his phonebook, thinking that maybe his parents would want to know what their son’s situation right now but when his fingers stopped from function when his brain came up of something, he stopped and just placed the phone – after looking at the owner’s name which is Minho - on the desk beside the bed where the guy was sleeping.
Siwoo looked at the clock in his phone and muttered a sharp curse when he found out that it was already past his curfew. He sighed before slumping at the seat, the only one available, and taking a sharp breath before exhaling a long one. His eyelids had started becoming heavy, his chest heaving with a certain soft rhythm with his shoulders starting to slump down as tiredness finally clutched on his skin and blur filled his vision.
Before he knew it he was already deep in sleep, no nightmares, no dreams, he just slept.
A grunt woke him up. He pushed his head up from the bed before leaning back to straighten his back. He yawned with his hand covering his mouth, eyes watering ever so slightly. When his blurry vision slowly cleared up, he found the silhouette starting to make sense. He looked at him intently before a yawn escaped again. “Oh … you’re awake.” He sighed before clutching his neck with his hand before letting his neck muscles contract to wake himself up fully. “Your name is … Minho … Minho right?”
It was then and there Gong Yoo realized that he’d been childish. Childishly stubborn in putting his views across and articulating himself. Conveniently forgetting that people, students especially, all had very strong feelings, no matter how well they concealed them, he’d rushed ahead by two steps, three maybe. However, the sudden rush of anger, the heat that he felt radiating from the opposite party, gave him a sick sense of relief — no, it was never his aim to get anyone upset, but it was nice to be getting a little bit of raw emotion from the previously empty shell. He wouldn’t admit it, but the emotionless pupil gave him a fright, changing the composition of his rigid temperament — it was never really one to worry about, since stoic puppets only appeared once in a blue moon.
“Don’t be angry and don’t do anything rash; I’m sorry,” he said, completely calm, even with everything happening inside. “Don’t call me sir.”
Resisting the urge to break out into an argument with himself, he clenched one fist and exhaled slowly. It was a joke he had with one of his friends — children, they could sense fear. His eyes closed slowly, and the corner of his mouth twitched twice, the first in the struggle to think long and hard before saying anything, and the second to contain a ludicrous laughter.
Of course he still felt that letting Siwoo take the subject would be a terrible idea. But… The way that he reacted, he realized, was an overreaction. He’d come to the conclusion, that no matter what, Siwoo he would be highly unlikely to last in his lessons. He’d hang in for a month if he was resilient, but… High school was for falling in love with subjects. He’d never had to teach someone to get into a certain topic before — his classes promoted independence, and self-study after coming out of a cushioned environment. Why major, or minor in it for that matter, if you didn’t like it? Or have an inkling of how it worked? Was it really his job to make a student fall in love with a subject? Because as a lecturer, that had never been on his agenda.
If Siwoo wasn’t going to take his word for it then… Experience was the best teacher for him.
“I’ll sign you up for Economics. Feel free to transfer if you don’t like it.”
Siwoo wondered if his point got through his teacher’s idealism. Thought that maybe after that small show he put up, he’ll take him in and started teaching him things he should know. Maybe it wasn’t really a teacher’s job to make their students love their classes, because only kids can fall into that small trap of the teachers. Maybe he was wrong to make a outburst like that knowing that the teacher still holds the final decision. Maybe it was better to just shut up and take what he decided.
He was surprised to be honest. Surprised that the teacher gave in and started apologizing, which shocked him more because hey, it’s no normal sight to see a teacher apologizing, more so to his students. Maybe he was right to push that thought to him. Maybe he was right to shout a little bit, to force his own input to his teacher’s mind. Maybe he finally stopped doing mistakes. Maybe he was a fool to think that shutting up was a nicer decision than what he just did.
He thought that, finally things were starting to brighten on his side, though when the teacher just stated to not call him “sir”, Siwoo knew that he messed up. He nibbled on his lips, sometimes bit the inner of his cheeks before breathing calmly. “The enthusiasm is there, really, thank you.” He mocked before biting his lips again to bring his old self back, the one who knows how to respect others, yeah that one.
“I’ll do my best sir so don’t worry about me shifting or leaving your class,” He said before taking the materials he placed on the table back to his bag. “Because that would never happen.” He ended before tucking his bag to his back.
He smiles and nods “Oh yeah people do like to run their mouths now dont they” he says nodding putting his hand on his chin “Well that is a reason to care about what others might think, yes” he says thinking to himself “Precious? Ngaw” he says smiling “Well we are all precious in the sight of God”
He snorted slightly before retracting himself back to proper posture when he heard what his teach had said. “See,” He muttered before laughing softly. “You should care more about yourself sir than going out your way just to comfort your student’s personal affairs.” He looked at him and wondered if he’s doing the right thing. “Not that i say its a bad thing to comfort students sir.” He said to repair what might be a misunderstanding between them.
“Really?” he smiles
off // confused…
off // good night
It was a good day for a stroll, a soothing weather for Siwoo’s heavy heart. Optimism was already long forgotten in him and the other took over. He looked at the scenery around him, shops with layered glasses displaying all of their products. Clothes for the autumn, foods for the ones whose stomachs were growling, theatres with the movies they’re currently playing inside, and also arcades with their blinking lights.
The sight was nothing but normal, though it was irritating. Siwoo never liked the exaggerated happiness that other has, that enormous amount of laughter, smiles and all. Maybe he was just being bitter, bitter that they have a better life than his, but this was nothing to be proud off, it only made him hate himself.
Each smile leaves that unnerving call back in his head, and he would do everything to take that out of his system.
His steps became heavier and heavier at each passing meter. The sun had started to become harsh to his exposed skin, hair continuously getting messy at the breeze of mid day and the noise of happy chatters were getting under his skin.
When he spotted a bench in front of an ice cream van with different sizes of children flocking around it, he took it and sat on it, eyes trained at the unfaltering smiles of the young ones and the satisfied grin of the guy with the white cap as he distributes his product, and apparently it was all for free like what the posted paper says right beside the huge window.
During his childhood, where simple fun could make him smile all throughout the day, where bathing was nothing but a hindrance to his play time, where he know nothing that could make his happiness break, oh how hard Siwoo wished to have a life like that again, not like this, not like how he resembles a pigeon caged in a small confinement made of sadness.
If i forgot someone, please drop in my ask.
updated = /11/21/2013
updated = /11/25/2013
Youngjae (awkward meeting)
off // good night
Siwoo bit the urge to moan as the head slowly penetrated him. He gasped at the intrusion and also the heat that was starting to spread like wild fire in him. When moved slightly, the penetration became deeper causing him to moan all of a sudden. Shame was nowhere near him anymore. He hissed at the pain but it was addicting to the point that he found himself pushing himself much deeper in him. He waited for a moment, adjusting slowly. “Y-you can move now…” he sighed , relieved and with eyes shot with lust and passion.
Okay.<Chuckles> I play the drums.Usually,you can see me drum when I’m with the marching band or the practice room. <Smiles>
Drums of the marching band? Are those the drums where you should hang it around your shoulders and bang it with some kind of overly large cotton swab?
Swallowing a little bit, all that Gackt could do was to keep quiet. To just keep quiet and try to make his way towards where Siwoo said the nurses would be. He had no idea what to think of this all, not in the slightest, and it bothered him. He did not like the fact that he would have to rely on anyone but himself. It was something he told himself he wouldn’t do anymore, ever.
”They all tell me that, but better safe than sorry”, he hissed back at the other, then just simply looked into the distance. After a little while, he heard the male speak up again. If Gackt could take care of himself, or if he needed the other to help him. ”Unless you’re a trained surgeon, I doubt you would be able to help with what’s the problem”, he answered, though it didn’t actually sound harsh, more ashamed if anything. It was clear that whatever was wrong, he did not feel comfortable showing that to Siwoo.
Looking up again, he heard him ask the blue-eyed male what his name was. ”Gackt”, he answered. Why did this male want to know, exactly? He wasn’t too sure about that.
Right, of course, he couldn’t help anything at all, he never does. “Ah… sorry.” He apologized before sitting on the rails of one of the beds there with his arms folded on his chest and eyes looking at him. “Do you need something else?” He asked, and Siwoo doesn’t know himself why, maybe the urge of helping was just too strong to ignore.
Gackt was his name, finally he got a name. He sighed softly before pushing himself away to the bed towards the shelves in the opposite direction of Gackt’s figure. He slid the glass casings and started looking at the labels of the medicine there. “Where’s the nurse when we need them the most.” He muttered before sighing again.
He could remember how pathetic students were to fake their own situations just to skip some few classes and well the nurse was there to look over them, little did she know that it was all fraud and nothing sincere. And now, this case was dire and grim at the same time and yet there’s no single entity around them that has any knowledge in the world of medicine.
Siwoo knows that he should excuse himself out because the awkwardness and the air of undesired presence was already choking him, but he couldn’t and he would never let his pathetic side show up again. “Sorry for being stubborn and all, but I really want to help out, anything, just tell me.”
he leans hia head backwards laughing “ha but you no know me I dont care what people think, but as for you as I know you do I shall stop” he says laughing “whats wrong with my winking?” tries to look at his eyes but ends up cross-eyeing
“Its weird sir, to actually be the ending point of winks.” He shook his head before smiling slightly. “But sir, you should start thinking more about what others might think, especially that a simple rumor can get you expelled out of this school, and i personally don’t want that knowing that you can be one of the precious people i meet here."
“Really?” he smiles
1) My muse finds an old journal they kept in their teens (or equivalent). After reading the entire thing, they fall asleep and dream of people they once knew, both friends and enemies.
2) Your muse and mine have a conversation before a great battle in which they will both take part.
3) Every day for weeks, someone has been sneaking into my muse’s home or office and leaving a note which reads “Why did you do it?” I will write a drabble about what my muse assumes the note is about.
4) Send me a character and the word “love” or “war.” For love, I will write a romantic scene between that character and my muse. For war, I will write an argument between that character and my muse.
5) Your muse and mine meet on the battlefield.
6) My muse is in love with yours, but your muse loves another. (Feel free to also send the name of the character your muse loves.)
7) My muse has survived a great battle, but someone they love has not.
8) My muse either finds, or loses, their faith in a higher power. (Specify which.)
9) Your muse is injured or grieving. (Specify which.) My muse will assist or comfort them.
10) A drabble about my muse’s first love.
11) A drabble about my muse’s worst enemy.
12) My muse’s first contact with a representative of another culture (or species, in an SF/F setting).
all of the memes are finally replied OTL check your tags if you haven’t seen it yet… i apologize for the lame answers OTL
So, what are you? /blinks before looking away/ Wrong question. I mean from what group are you?
Oh,part of the Band Geeks.Um,you? <Chomps on chips>
I’m a typical student, a nerd i think that’s what you call us. /shrugs before huffing/ you play what instrument?
[[ Okay now this is so weird. ]]
When he thought that being seen naked was the most humiliating event that he’ll be inside Bullworth, he surely hadn’t thought that this would happen to him.
He’s sitting, more like already crouching, on a small chair with his knees already up to his chest. There was a small table in front of him with three seats around it, excluding his of course.
On the seats, there was a teddy bear, a stuffed dinosaur and an eerie looking goldilocks doll and with each stuffed toy, there was a corresponding plate, cup and utensils each. “What the fuck am i doing here again?” He muttered before hearing the door opened with a bang.
He shot his gaze to it and saw a female standing awkwardly on the doorway. He panicked and stood abruptly making the table flip and the said toys land face first on the floor.
Siwoo is never been a heavy drinker, and drinking to his heart’s content wasn’t really the best choice of his life right now.
Words keeps on spewing from his mouth as he placed his head on the bar of the club. Someone keeps on poking his back and it was starting to irritate him. He hushed the said intruder with his hand, swishing it blindly on his back, and started muttering curses. “Ugh shut up unicorn, stop poking me with you long ass horn!"