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keiwritesstuff · 3 years

Text

Hopeless

Ishikawa Yuki AU

Summary : When the pieces started to fall together, she knew she had no choice but to let him go.

Genre : slice of life, angst

Notes : long. Self-indulgent. 3rd person POV. Not sure if I got the characterization right. I wrote this all in one night. Not proofread, so there might be misspelled words and grammatical errors. Based on a prompt. Best read on pc/laptop/browser (if you’re on your phone), since the layout changes when it’s read/opened on the phone tumblr app.

When did she start noticing it?

Was is sometime after their relationship reached the eighth month?

Or was it when he started showing strange signs or started doing things that were very much unlikely for him to do?

+++

Even before they started dating, when they were just friends, Yuki had always listened. Whether she’s venting, or just simply talking about how her day was; he would always, always listen.

And so, when she caught him staring into space that day, just as she was talking about her thoughts on one of the matches she recently watched, she felt a little odd.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He shook his head lightly. “I’m just a little bit exhausted. I stayed up watching the team’s past matches. For reference.”

She chuckled. That sounds just like him. Always finding opportunities to improve. He never thought of anything or anyone lightly. He always believes that there is always something new to learn from everyone regardless of age and experience.

She gave him a little smile and brushed her fingers lightly against his cheek. “You’ll do well. Your teammates got your back. You know that, right?”

He nodded.

And she brushed off the odd feeling. Yuki was just being…. Yuki.

_________________________________________________________

On their date the following week, Yuki suggested that they go to their usual place for dinner; a restaurant with tatami rooms for private dining, surrounded by luxurious green landscaping to cater to the demands of the many wealthy patrons who frequent the restaurant. She’s not used to at all, since she grew up in an ordinary, middle-class family, but the food is heavenly, and the restaurant provides a safe space for the both of them to spend some time together.

Yuki was reading the menu, seeming unsure of what he would have that evening. He was probably being cautious of his diet, she thought.

“I think I’ll have the usual.” she spoke first while Yuki was still scanning the menu. It’s the same food that she always had every time they went to the restaurant. Yuki was the one who suggested it when he first brought her to this restaurant, and she was teased a lot by him for not wanting to try anything else other than that particular menu, to the extent where he no longer needed to ask her what she would have whenever they go to this place for a meal.

She stifled a laughter when she remembered how Yuki used to tease her all the time about it, how he used to attempt to steal her food and cutely asked her to finish the tomatoes in his plate, and how they often argued about the secret ingredients in the menu. This restaurant held all those memories.

She was happily smiling at the thought, until Yuki asked,

“Hold on… which one is it again?”

_________________________________________________________

Two weeks.

They didn’t see each other for two weeks after that last date. Yuki had a busy schedule, filled with practice, meetings, interviews and photoshoots. It wasn’t the first time they couldn’t see each other for a long period of time.

But it was the first time that Yuki couldn’t respond to a lot of her calls.

She was probably calling at the wrong time. His schedule usually ends at 10 p.m, but he must’ve had extended meetings with his manager after that. Or he just wanted to rest. After all, not all of her calls were left unanswered. He did answer some of it. And as she suspected, he was just exhausted. Of course he was. After all, he was the team’s ace.

She understood her position. She understood his as well. This is as normal as their relationship would allow. Who he is… does not allow them to have what other couples have. They could not have that stroll at a park under the cherry blossom trees. They could not have those cheesy movie dates. They could not even go to the beach to watch the sun set, since there is a high risk of fans and paparazzi finding him.

Regardless, she was content. She loves him, and she would go above and beyond to make sure his career is not jeopardized by their relationship in any way, even if it means that she could not eat sundaes on broad daylight with Yuki.

+++

[Hey, how was your day? How was practice?]

She texted him.

[It was good.]

Came his reply.

[Did you have fun? Is Takahashi still messing with you since that day you accidentally ate his bread? Haha]

He responded,

[No, not really.]

Strange. It wasn’t like him to give that kind of replies. He usually would talk a lot, even in his texts. He would vent about how his teammates kept teasing him for being so popular, or how much he wanted to eat greasy, deep-fried food.

This time, it was really strange.

[Hey.. are you alright?]

She hit ‘send’.

Two minutes later, a reply came.

[Yeah. Just dead tired. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m going to bed. Good night.]

_________________________________________________________

This went on for a week more. The short replies, the unanswered calls, the brief conversations. To say that she was not upset was clearly a lie, since things weren’t like that before. And it’s not like he didn’t respond to her calls and texts AT ALL. He did. It’s just that.. it has become somehow different.

Or was she the one who became strange? Has she become… clingy? Could it just be her mind playing tricks on her? Or perhaps… this is what to be expected when one is dating a famous athlete?

Then again, beggars can’t be choosers.

She should be more understanding of his job. She should be supportive. There are things that she herself has not understood yet about how the industry works and she’s sure that Yuki already has a lot on his plate. He isn’t just an athlete. He is an ambassador, a representative, and to an extent, an idol to many.

She shouldn’t ask too much of him.

_________________________________________________________

It was on one Friday morning where she had to call in sick after waking up in shock, immediately running to the toilet and vomiting. She knew right away that she caught a high fever.

Has she not been taking care of her health lately? Was she stressed at work?

Overthinking?

Regardless, with shaking hands, and with the little consciousness she had left, she left a voice message for a close friend. She had promised him that she’d join him in a co-op expedition on Monster Hunter later that night.

“Hey, Yuji.. I can’t join you tonight.. high fever.. Need to rest. Sorry.. I’ll join you some other time, okay?”

With that, she hung up, mustered as much strength as she could, pulled up the covers and fell into an uneasy sleep.

+++

She was awoken by the sound of plates being handled. Her eyes shot open.

Burglar?

Terrified, she turned around slowly, only to breathe out a sigh of relief when she saw the person in her house. She had forgotten that she gave him the spare keys to her house.

“Gosh..Yuki.. You scared me..”

“Oh, hey, you’re awake.” he replied, arranging something on the kitchen counter.

“W..what time is it? How long have I been sleeping?” her hand roamed around for her phone. She found it and checked the time. To her surprise, she was out cold for a good seven hours and it’s already 3 in the evening. She groaned. Her whole body still felt heavy, but that sleep was very much needed.

“Are you alright?”

Yuki came to her and sat next to her on the bed.

On his lap, was a bowl of soup.

She stared at the bowl, and then.. at her boyfriend.

“Did you come here and….cook?”

“Yes..? And.. I know you’re sick and all, but how come I only found out about it from Nishida? Why didn’t you call me?” he asked out of sheer curiosity while helping her to sit up straight. She remembered the phone call this morning. “Oh.. I told him I couldn’t join our gaming session tonight.. he needed help taking down a boss. I didn’t have much strength to call anyone after that.”

“Taking down a boss..? Is it that important? You guys are ridiculous.” he teased.

She let out a weak chuckle. “Hey, Shara Ishvalda is not ridiculous. What’s ridiculous is you, suddenly showing up in my place after God knows how long we haven’t properly talked to each other.”

She meant is as a joke, but despite the fever flowing painfully in her veins and biting painfully at her joints, she could still notice the change in his expression. Oops. Did she say something wrong?

“I understand you’re busy. I shouldn’t ask too much of you.” she added, but Yuki was silent. The expression on his face was unreadable.

Was he upset? What exactly happened to him lately? Is he exhausted? Stressed? What is he hiding from her? Was something bothering him? Was it work?

Was it guilt?

Her thoughts were cut off when Yuki handed her a spoon. “I hope it tastes okay.” he spoke.

“Well... unfortunately, my tongue is currently deprived of its senses… and therefore, I deem your soup…”

She took a sip and imitated Gordon Ramsey’s face expression as best as she could, “…mediocre in terms of its taste.”

Her attempt to lighten up the mood worked.

Yuki was laughing softly.

Ah, there he was. Her Yuki.

The person who had made her heart pound like a drum, the man who often put others before him, the man who made her realize just how much she could love someone. She hasn’t seen that smile for such a long time. She missed that smile.

She missed him.

All she could do was stare at the man in front of her. With trembling fingers, she touched his cheek. “I missed this, Yuki. I missed you.” she said meekly. He took her hand in his own, but was silent for some time before saying,

“I’m here.”

“I know you’re busy. I know people expect a lot from you. I know you tend to carry the burden all on your own. I respect that. But-- I also want you to know that if you need any help, all of us are here for you. Me, your teammates, your family.. I want you to always remember that you---”

Yuki’s phone on the night stand vibrated, signalling an incoming call.

Yuki immediately answered the phone call and walked towards the kitchen, where she couldn’t hear him.

It was a short phone call. After it ended, Yuki went back to sit next to her on the bed. But this time, she could no longer form any words.

As much as she was surprised that she was interrupted mid-conversation, she couldn’t stop the chills that ran down her spine. Immediately, that feverish burn in her veins was replaced by something much, much more agonizing, and she could feel blood rushing to her head, trying to make sense of what she had seen.

She saw the caller ID, and she knew who it was.

She knew that name. She noticed that Yuki probably didn’t realize that she had already seen it, considering how he was trying to act normal after that phone call, but somehow… just somehow…

Everything started to fall into place. Everything started to make sense.

_________________________________________________________

Of all Yuki’s friends and teammates, only a few had personally known her. She had grown close to Yuji after she and Yuki started dating (especially when he found out both of them loved games), and Takahashi texts her every now and then, spilling tea about the things her boyfriend do during training, and sometimes sent her pictures of young Yuki because he absolutely loved it when she teased Yuki about it.

Masa, though, is the only one who knew her way before she met Yuki. In fact, he was the reason they met in the first place. She and Masa coincidentally shared the same social circle, and their passion and interest in volleyball and manga made them friends.

When Masa heard her voice over the phone in all seriousness, he knew something had definitely happened. She was not the type who talks about what happens in her relationship to others. She had always tried to resolve any conflicts on her own first. It was her way of protecting herself and Yuki.

When she had finished talking, he became silent, mainly due to shock and disbelief. Several things were running through his mind. What was Yuki doing? Has that boy lost his mind?

“Or maybe I’m the one overthinking? I’m not sure what to think of anymore, Masa.” she spoke. She wanted to believe that she was indeed overthinking. That she saw wrong. That everything happened was either just a coincidence or just Yuki feeling exhausted because of work. She wanted to believe in Yuki.

But it was hard. It was hard when the pieces just somehow…fit together.

“Hey, I’ll try and talk to him somehow and find out what’s going on. You should try to calm down and save your worries for later, okay?” he assured her.

They had been friends for a long time. She knew she could count on him. Plus, Yuki had always looked up to Masa. If there is anyone in the team who could get Yuki to talk about his feelings and thoughts in all honesty, it would definitely be Masa. She trusts him.

She trusts his judgment.

She wished she didn’t.

Because four days later, she received a phone call from Masa, confirming all her worst fears.

_________________________________________________________

Other than the restaurant, they have another secret spot where they could meet without the prying eyes of others.

It was at a small, empty playground on the hills. During daytime, the place would be crowded with children and the elderly who found the place suitable for walks and light jogs. At night, the playground is completely silent due to its not-so-close distance from the nearest neighborhood, and because of it’s location on the hills, the playground is a lot colder and eerier at night.

It was ideal enough for Yuki and her. They would sit on the swings and talk about many things while looking at the view from the hills. On colder nights, they would stay in his car, eating snacks and enjoy each other’s company. She was happy enough to have him next to her, healthy and smiling. She couldn’t ask for more.

This time, however, when she looked at him as he got out of his car and walked towards her, she knew that she will no longer be able to even ask for anything more.

“Hey,” she started.

“Hey,” he replied the same.

No hugs. No kisses.

It had really dawned on her that everything was ending right there and then.

Where do they start?

Where do things start to end?

Can it end quickly?

It’s starting to feel really, really painful.

She looked at him. Stared at him. His eyes, that see the best in everyone. His nose, that he loves to scrunch. His lips.. that had showered her with soft kisses. His hands... that had given her warmth for so many times.

How did things turn out this way?

But she knew she had to do it. It had to be done. What’s the use of a having a relationship if only one of them is committed to it?

“You know I’m breaking up with you, right?”

The words unexpectedly came out smoothly. She didn’t know she could be so… composed.

Inside, however, she felt as if every inch of her was slashed with a knife.

It seemed that he had already anticipated it. She could read the expression he wore on his face.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” she asked.

He paused for some time. And lightly nodded.

She stared at the view. The city used to look so vibrant from where they were. Now, it just looks like random lights piling on top of each other.

It’s making her dizzy.

She turned around to face the other way.

Calm down. Calm down.

“I figured it out early on.” she added.

She heard Yuki taking a deep breath. He didn’t look at her.

Guilt.

He was about to say her name, but she was quick to stop him. “No. Don’t. Don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t..need to hear it. I already know you’re sorry, Yuki.”

Don’t call my name. This is already hard . If you call my name, I’m not sure if I would be able to let you go.

“Instead of saying you’re sorry… I just hope that you would treat her better. Treat her nicely. Appreciate her. Respect her. Make things work, no matter what happens.”

Yuki stayed silent, and she continued,

“I realized that it is no use holding on to you, on this relationship, when it’s obvious that your heart is clearly with someone else.”

Breathe. It is for the best. Breathe.

“And so, Ishikawa Yuki… I release you from this bond.” she spoke. Her lips formed a little smile, attempting to diffuse the heavy tension in the air. Yuki could only stare at her, wondering how could she stay cheerful despite knowing what he had done. He was amazed at how calm and level-headed she was at that moment despite the obvious pain in her voice.

“So.. you should go now. Tell her that we broke it off. Assure her, and yourself, that we ended things on good terms. And move on, Yuki. I will move on as well.” she spoke again, giving him a light push on the shoulder.

Go. Please, just go.

“I… I can’t just leave you here.” he finally spoke.

“I won’t be here all night, silly. My car is right there, and I have work tomorrow.” she chuckled.

Breathe. Breathe. Just… breathe.

Their eyes met for the last time, and with a strain in his voice, Yuki finally said, “Thank you. For everything.”

She forced a smile.

It felt like an eternity. When will this end?

She smiled, almost bitterly. “Go.” she insisted.

And he did. She watched his back as he walked away. She watched him as he got into his car. And she waved her hand lightly as he drove off.

Breathe.

However, as soon as his car was out of sight, her knees buckled, and she knelt on the the ground. Biting her hand, she tried to stifle her cry as much as she could as she could no longer stop the tears streaming down her face.

It hurts. It hurts!

Help me. Anyone. Please. It hurts..

Please stop this pain.

How did things turn out this way? What did she do wrong? What exactly went wrong? What could’ve she done better?

Did she not love him enough?

Why couldn’t he give her his heart?

What did she do wrong?

What did she---

“Hey.” a voice came from behind her and she looked up in shock.

“M…Masa?”

Masa read her tear-stained face as he knelt next to her. “He told me this afternoon that he was meeting you here tonight. I told him to come clean about the whole thing.” he spoke as he took out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

“God, you’re a mess.”

“S…shut up and let me grieve.” she managed to retort in between sobs. The tears haven’t stopped. How could they when she had held them back for so long?

“Alright, alright.” Masa calmly spoke and sat next to her on the ground. She looked at him as if he was insane.

“C..Can’t a girl cry alone?” she stifled another cry.

“In this place? Gosh, no. What if a couple comes here to have a good time and suddenly saw a girl crying on the ground? Good Lord, you’re going to scare the living daylights out of some poor souls. Have mercy on them, will you?”

She knew he didn’t mean it. She knew he meant well, judging from the hand on her shoulder that hasn’t left since he sat down.

She clicked her tongue as a joke. Words have seemed to fail her by now. She wasn’t sure what to do next. The love of her life has left her. What will she do now? How will she move on? Can she move on to begin with?

The thought alone scared her, and she found herself sobbing uncontrollably again.

“I..loved him, Masa.. but.. it wasn’t enough…”

She felt him pull her closer and she felt his hand gently guiding her head to lean on his shoulder. “Here, I’ll lend you my shoulder. The first 30 minutes is free. After that, you will be charged 500 yen per minute.”

She chuckled a little, but said nothing further. She let herself cry as much as she wanted to on his shoulder, the handkerchief was no longer of use at that point. His jacket was stained by her tears, but he made no noticeable expression of discomfort. He had been such a great friend despite his mean jokes, and she appreciated his presence next to her. She wasn’t sure what she could’ve done if Masa wasn’t there. Probably something really, really stupid and reckless.

+++

She woke up the next morning in a mess. She felt horrible, her eyes were still swollen, and her head felt unbelievably heavy.

Nevertheless, she woke up.

Just then, she received text messages. They’re from Nishida and Takahashi.

[Good morning! I heard from Masa-san that you and Yuki-san broke up. No worries! Let’s take down another boss tonight! I’ll let you curse as much as you want!]

[Mornin’! Hey, look at this silly photo of Nishida.]

She looked at the photo Takahashi sent. Yuji was getting hit by a ball while he was tying his shoelace. It was a bit blurry, but Yuji’s expression was definitely silly. She chuckled.

It turned out that Masa really didn’t waste any time to spread the news. Well, it’s better if everyone knew. It would save her from many awkward moments in the future.

And then came another text. This time, it’s from Masa.

[Oi, good morning. How are you feeling?]

She chuckled. She felt a slight warmth from the text messages.

[I feel like shit]

[Of course you do. I would be surprised if you suddenly said you’re fine, especially after what you put my jacket through last night. I found dried snot on it this morning.]

She unexpectedly laughed out loud.

[I’ll buy you another one. Sheesh.]

She managed to smile a little more.

She still wasn’t so sure how she was going to move on, but she will take the first step.

And she got up.

#i had this prompt bookmarked for so long #i am so sleepy #what even is this #help me #i can see oxygen

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personasintro · 3 years

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Hello, I’m not trying to defend rude people coming to you asking you to hurry the story lol but I’m going to tell you something that might help as advice as a writer, maybe? Just please don’t take it the wrong way bc I’m not trying to tell you how to do your thing!

I think what frustrates readers the most is that the story escalated SO QUICKLY from the beginning, like since the “deal” to all the fluff, the “””””fake””””” dating, the sex, the (very obvious) romantic moments that were completely brushed off, not to mention all the confusing things Jungkook says to Y/N and viceversa, etc. AND THEN.. the whole story goes back to (in a sense) zero: Jungkook is back with Kiko, the person that hurted him so deeply on him, Y/N and Jungkook are still friends even after they spended all those weeks being basically like boyfriend and girlfriend and that there’s clearly something there that ALL of us can see (unless you didn’t want us to believe that and we’re all not reading the same story).

And I’m not saying that it’s bad or that you’re doing things the wrong way but IT IS very confusing to us bc its starting to feel like there’s no real character development and everything’s going backwards instead of forward.

Again, I’m not saying this is how you should do this but, as a reader myself, the lack of development, in terms of character and not as a “this is how I want the story to end” type of thing, it’s very frustrating and dryning for some people.

What I’m trying to say is that maybe the people on your ask box aren’t just being obnoxious and trying to tell you how they want the story to end. Maybe they’re mad at the fact that after everything that’s happened between Y/N and Jungkook, they’re still with the same mindset. I mean, even the whole “mutual help” agreement is over and they’re still the same characters when the story began. It makes you wonder if maybe that’s everything there is to their story 🤧

My point it’s that: if the story’s plot it’s based on that “mutual help” they had, isn’t it supposed to bring some noticeable change to the character’s life after instead of just passing by, almost uneventfully?

Anyway, I hope I don’t make you feel mad or sad with my whole ass analysis lol that really isn’t the point of it, I’m just seriously very confused with the way the story is progressing, and maybe clarifying some things, without spoiling anything, may help us readers understand where is this story going. Btw, none of this means that the story or the plot or the characters are bad AT ALL, I would say it’s the complete opposite, we are all SO immersed in it that we’ve got to the point were we’re just desperate for more! But yeah, thank you for your beautiful story! I’ll still check every update even if you decide to complete ignore this question lol ❤️❤️

As much as I appreciate you trying to justify all those asks, it doesn't change the fact how I feel about this whole thing. Frustrated, sad and overwhelmed, that's how I've been feeling for a few weeks now (maybe even months) because some people on this app are too much sometimes. It's one of the reasons why I disabled my asks.

If any of the readers have any problem with how the story is going, I've said too many times they don't have to read it. Them getting all frustrated over how I write my OWN story is ridiculous. People trying to tell me how to write my story is ridiculous. If you guys read my answers to every ask, you probably know by now what makes me frustrated and what bothers me the most. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out and I ask... how the hell people are still being so pushy with their own preferences? I've explained countless things so many times and honestly, I'm exhausted because of it. I feel like nobody listens to me what I'm saying and that puts a little disrespect in my opinion.

+ I get the feeling people don't read MH thoroughly and forget all the things that have been discussed there. I don't get the feeling as if the story went back to zero, I'm sorry that you do but well, I respect your opinion but obviously are opinions about this are very different. I can't believe I've to explain this all over again but well... here we go! y/n and Jungkook being still friends doesn't mean there are things that haven't slightly changed (whether they acknowledge it or not). Them acting like a girlfriend and a boyfriend has been explained by THEM, why they acted like that and even admitted it felt nice. There is an obvious attraction and their deal hasn't helped with that.

+ I know very well what I'm doing with my story [SLOW BURN STORY] and I asked readers many times to just trust me. I'm so freaking frustrated because if people are getting so frustrated over my story too, why the hell are they still reading it? I'm not asking for people to tell me what to do, directly or indirectly because I'm sorry but that's the vibe I'm getting from all those asks. They're not normal and typical asks of "oh I wish they were together" but the length those people are willing to go just to push their own preference is ridiculous.

+ If you think there's no character development (just because y/n x jk aren't together and jk x kiko are) then I'm sorry but MH isn't probably your kind of story. And I'm not going to point out what those characters development are because if you read the story thoroughly and with some sort of understanding, you could easily tell what it is and you wouldn't have to question me about it.

+ Again, if anyone finds this story so frustrating and draining (that's what you probably meant) just don't read it. I really appreciate everyone who does read it, but ONCE AGAIN... I'm not sure what to do with it? I'm not going to change the story and even though I do read those opinions, 90% of time I don't even know how to respond. And people willing to take some of their time to be frustrated in my inbox when you can probably tell that it is as much frustrating for me, is blowing my mind and not in the good sense.

+ Maybe they’re mad at the fact that after everything that’s happened between Y/N and Jungkook, they’re still with the same mindset. This fucking blew my mind all over again. As much as I'm aware a story can evoke a lot of feelings (one of the reasons why writing and reading stories is so amazing), this is different than just people being casually mad about something. And that's exactly it, people are mad and then they come into my inbox and spread negativity and even bigger distaste to writing for me. If anyone is so mad because of how story is going and it's hard for them to process it (now I'm going to be the one giving you an advice) just don't read it. And I don't mean this in any rude way, I genuinely think people shouldn't read it if them being so mad means they'll show their anger and frustration to me. Because newsflash but I'm a person behind this screen, I can get mad and frustrated too. Do you guys think these kinds of asks aren't hurting me to a certain extent?

+ You think this story is confusing? Alright, what am I supposed to do with it? Like, I'm genuinely curious what you guys expect me to do. I told you to trust me, it didn't help. I told you this story is a slow burn one, it didn't help. I told you there are things that are changing and if you read the story properly and with some understanding, you'd be able to notice it (even if it's not something big and eye-catching), that didn't help too.

+ It's not my responsibility to explain and clarify every thing people are confused about but still, I've always tried to explain everything but you know what? I don't feel like doing it again. Because every time people are confused about something, it always has something to do with the future of the story and people indirectly asking me about spoilers – whether you think it's true or not, I've been here long enough to know when people are trying to get answers out of me. Plus, it's very hard almost impossible to explain some things without spoiling anything. That's why I always told you guys to trust me and you'll get your answers at the right time.

I really hate explaining my thoughts like this because it makes me feel like a douchebag but I'm so sick of some people thinking like I owe them something. At the end of the day, I'm here to write a story and me interacting with all of my readers is my choice. I could easily just post a chapter and not care what people think, and I do think some people are using this fact over me thinking they can be impolite, rude, pushy and frustrating. I've been patient enough about this, but the more this keeps happening the more I'm questioning my presence here.

There... here are my thoughts and I know people will take from it whatever they want (or more like won't take anything from it) but honestly, I'm so exhausted if you couldn't tell by now. I'm so done with always justifying myself. These thoughts have been bubbling inside of me for so long and I always told myself to just close the app, breathe it out and come back positive... but I realized that every time I think about this, I feel exactly the same and I know that it's not my fault because that's how some of you make me feel.

All I ask if for mutual understanding because I've always been trying to be respectful and understanding, that's one of the things I've been very careful about.

#ask: anon

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benjiwyatt · 4 years

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do you have any ben/leslie headcanons! i love your posts abt them so much it's great to see someone get as emotional abt them as i am asjdkajhjd

i got this message and i was like "god, i dont really know if i have any headcanons" and then i opened my notes app and started typing and didn't stop for over an hour

i'm literally putting this under a break and organizing it into categories bc it's absurdly long

here it is

A COLLECTION OF BEN AND LESLIE HEADCANONS

PRE-RELATIONSHIP/S3

basically canon but leslie definitely had a crush on a young benji wyatt and followed the story religiously for the first couple months before she started college

ben is only slightly jealous leslie had ann go out with chris to try and get more money for the parks budget rather than leslie asking him out with the same goal. he knows it’s insane, unethical, and illogical but he’s still excited that he gets to spend the night with her on a date plus two other people even if it is to accuse her of bribery.

ann realizes early on that leslie was attracted to ben and teases her mercilessly about it. she thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that leslie wants to make out with "mean ben.” after april and andy’s wedding, she realizes it's more than just attraction and she lays off.

before ben can even think rationally about what he’s doing, he’s in line at bed, bath, and beyond with a crock pot in his arms, calling stephanie to ask her to send him their family’s chicken soup recipe

ann knew ben liked her from the beginning and was totally positive when she ran into him in the hospital asking for leslie’s room number while holding jj’s waffles and a tub of homemade soup.

ben realizes he’s falling in love with leslie when he is at city hall with her until 3am one night trying to budget for the amount of cotton candy machines she wants for the harvest festival. in his exhaustion, he naively believes her when she tells him she’ll go home in a bit so he leaves. he never gets a text from saying she made it home so he stops at jj’s the next morning and brings a takeout container of waffles and a coffee complete with an outlandish amount of whipped cream and sugar to the parks department. he finds her asleep in the conference room. he starts trying to convince sweetums to donate more cotton candy machines that afternoon.

chris had to have known ben liked leslie. he’s not an idiot. in the deleted scene from their wedding, they read out emails from their “tumultuous first week in pawnee” and chris writes to ben saying, “why are you so focused on leslie knope?” ben replies saying, “i’m not. whatever. shut up.” there’s no way chris is this oblivious. ben takes her out for a beer. ben pays out of pocket for a children’s performer to help her out. ben shows up on chris and ann’s date just because he thinks leslie might be there. chris can’t be this dumb. but when they take the city manager jobs in pawnee, he knows it can’t happen so he cuts ben off when he starts to ask about dating someone in city hall. he cracks down on the rule in front of leslie after the tom incident to hammer it in. he starts setting ben up on a bunch of dates to try and head it off. he sends them to indianapolis for the little league pitch because, realistically, he knows they’re the best bet for success but makes sure to interrupt their dinner and invites them to his apartment to continue to run interference the rest of the night. after their fights in 4.06-4.08, he hopes he won’t have to worry anymore. the next work day, they come into his office looking nervous and happy and he knows he’s about to lose the partner and best friend that’s been by his side for the past decade.

april and andy knew they were secretly dating. it went unspoken aside from a few implicit teasing remarks from april and a few suggestive attempted high fives from andy but leslie assured ben they wouldn’t tell anyone despite their ostensible behavior.

BREAK UP

ben had commissioned the li’l sebastian plush for leslie after he had died but the toy shop didn’t finish it until after they broke up. he felt bad not going to pick it up so he did despite not being able to give it to her. he kept it for all those months and sometimes thought about getting rid of it but could never bring himself to do it.

when leslie made personalized copies her books for her friends with individualized annotations and notes in the bylines, she had two copies for ben. there was one that she gave him during their breakup that was very simplified and watered down where the note basically just said “i’m really glad you decided to stay in pawnee.” then there was a second copy that she kept while they were split up that was totally covered in notes and random thoughts she couldn’t say during their time apart. she gives him that copy when they get back together and it may or may not be the best gift he’s ever received.

april was much less abrasive with them during the break up because she’s a sweetheart and wants her friends to be happy.

the first time leslie admitted she was in love with him was during a long night of drinking and crying at ann’s house

ben craved the taste of sugar during their breakup because he got used to tasting the sweetness when he kissed her

ben found himself unable to sleep at night without the sound of leslie talking in her sleep to comfort him

april texted leslie the night of the halloween party to let her know that ben and andy were at the hospital after a fight and everything was fine and she didn’t need to worry. leslie was mad at andy for a few days after and he couldn’t figure out why.

the only photo in ben’s bedroom was of himself, leslie, and li’l sebastian at the harvest festival. if he got caught staring at it and crying, he would just say he missed li’l sebastian so much.

april and andy started having star wars and star trek movie nights to try and cheer ben up

DOMESTIC

ben and leslie got in the habit of having weekly game nights with april and andy during the campaign since they were all basically living together. it became a tradition that kept going as often as they could make it happen, even after the kids were born. they try to have game night at least once a month. april pretends to hate it.

one of my absolute favorite ideas about them is that she sleeps much better when he’s around to keep her grounded. after they get together for good, she starts getting closer to 5 hours of sleep a night.

another favorite involving leslie’s sleeping: ben is typically accustomed to tuning out incoherent nonsense that she babbles in her sleep but she also has some of her best ideas when she’s not busy trying to focus on a million different things. when he hears her coming up with legitimately good ideas or making speeches or having solid debate arguments, he takes out the notebook he keeps in his nightstand to record her thoughts and quotes. he revisits and revises the notes to strengthen her statements and make them more professional and less rambling but makes sure to keep her distinct voice apparent in them.

ben prefers pancakes to waffles but he will go to the grave with that secret

this isn’t a headcanon because nbc posted it but one of ben’s holidays on leslie’s calendar is watch synchronization day which is the day they celebrate syncing their watches to, as leslie puts it, “always be in harmony, like our hearts” which is just one of the sweetest fucking things in the world

leslie makes ben read and watch all the harry potters because he didn’t get into them when he first tried. ben is much more of a success than ann. she buys him a ravenclaw scarf for christmas.

their first fight as a couple was a historical debate gone awry

since ben clearly has some affinity for custom stuffed animals, he has some made for the triplets.

they’re both dog people but they adopt a cat because sonia and stephen beg for one and it does fit their busy lifestyle much better. they love the cat. they get a dog when the kids are older and life is slightly less hectic.

they both love striped shirts and sweaters so much that they have to make a conscious effort to avoid wearing them on the same day and matching

leslie makes sweets and bakes desserts while ben typically handles cooking the actual meals

BASED ON EPISODES, QUOTES, AND THROWAWAY LINES

i always loved the ann/ben dynamic in bus tour because there’s been such an obvious shift in ann’s attitude towards him in this episode. maybe it’s because she and tom just broke up and she just turned chris down again and she’s frustrated with relationships but i think it’s her realizing ben isn’t going anywhere. since the campaign is winding down, she realizes that things aren’t gonna go back to the way they were because ben is now part of this and he’s clearly in it for the long haul. ann’s definitely jealous that ben is just as important to leslie as she is and she now knows she’s never gonna get that full attention back. ann sits ben down to have a real “don’t you dare hurt her” speech after this ep and before win, lose, or draw. this is when he tells ann he wants to marry her.

they discover they both adore the princess bride after ben says “as you wish” to her one night and after that it becomes their movie.

the wildflower mural becomes a thing between them when ben says he considered that to be their first date, prompting leslie to tell him what the mural means to her.

ben puts banjo boogie bonanza on one of the mix cds he gives leslie at the beginning of their relationship

harrison ford movie nights start after they both reveal they had a crush on him as a kid. ben was obsessed with han solo and leslie was into indiana jones’ whole history teacher vibe.

they basically hate each other’s taste in music and stop exchanging mix cds once that becomes apparent that they aren’t gonna find much common ground. they both love tom petty, al green, and etta james and music in that vein though.

ben makes leslie watch game of thrones just to try to explain why he’s called her khaleesi. she gets into it, not so much because of the show itself, but because of how passionate her boyfriend is about it.

they start learning basic french during the s4 campaign because they think it will be useful to have a basic multilingual vocabulary for their political careers and because leslie confesses she has always dreamed of seeing paris. they study spanish next.

ben makes leslie watch the star wars prequels just so he can complain to her during them. he doesn’t think she’s paying attention and then he reads about midichlorians in the paper.

ann is also in on ben’s plan to sneak vegetables into leslie’s waffles.

they will sometimes jokingly refer to themselves as the “dream team” or “dynamic duo” because, despite chris’s absurdity, it’s true

i’m open to literally any origin of this because no matter what it’s perfect but i like to think that “i love you and i like you” started at some point in season 4 when, at some point, leslie went “i like you” and ben replied “you like me?” “mhm” “hm just like me?” “yes i like you. i love you and i like you. both.” “mmm i love you and i like you too”

i barely even register some of these things as headcanons since they just live so solidly in my brain

this might be my favorite ask ever thank you for loving benslie enough to ask me this and be genuinely interested

if anyone read all of this, i love you

#most of me loves you for sending this ask but i just procrastinated so much work while writing this #ben x leslie #otp: deeply ridiculously #cherubsona #mail #this is truly absurdly long no one is gonna read this

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charismaandcashmere · 4 years

Link

In the modern world, it often seems like it’s harder than ever to accomplish your goals.

It seems like everyone has already done the thing you want to do — that your idea is already out there, that your niche is beyond saturated.

Want to start a blog? You’re up against a million rivals. Thinking about starting a podcast? So is everyone else and their mom. Hoping to write a book? With the advent of self-publishing, you’re not only up against authors approved by major publishing houses, but anyone, anywhere, with a laptop. Want to become a YouTube star? Better hope you get noticed next to the thousands of other folks uploading new videos every day.

There’s seemingly a million graphic designers, a million wannabe filmmakers, a million other, probably more qualified candidates gunning for the same job you want.

And that’s just in the marketplace. In your personal life, the competition can feel equally fierce. In the days of yore, you were just competing against people in your college or church to win the attention of a lady. Now you’re up against every Tom, Dick, and Harry on Tinder. The dating marketplace hypothetically stretches beyond your community to encompass your whole state, maybe even the whole country.

Yes, in both economic and personal spheres, demand seems high, and resources seem scarce. It’s enough to make you decide to give up and not try in the first place.

Yet this feeling of scarcity is just an illusion, a myth.

In truth, there’s never been a more opportune time to live. Not only because it’s never been cheaper and easier to write a book, share your art, or start a business, but because the average person’s ability to execute on the basics has never been in such short supply.

While opportunities to achieve your goals aren’t as scarce as you think, there are areas where true scarcity does exist: in common sense, in social skills, in manners, in reliability. There’s a dearth of people who know, or have the will, to do the stupidly easy stuff to be charming and successful.

Let me give you just one example. Both off the air and on, guests of my podcast will tell me, “I can tell you actually read my book before this interview and I really appreciate that. It’s so rare.” I don’t bring this up to toot my own horn, but rather to point out how ridiculous it is that this might even be something worthy of mention! An interviewer reading someone’s work before asking them questions about it would seem like the barest of bare minimum job requirements — a prerequisite rather than something above and beyond. And yet the majority of podcasters aren’t even taking care of this most basic of basics.

There are tons of people doing what you want to do, but how are they executing? In 90% of cases, not as well as they could be.

That’s your opening. And such openings are absolutely everywhere.

To take advantage of opportunities, people typically concentrate on stuff like building up their resume — going to the best school or getting the right internship. And certainly, these things can help.

But what’s missed is that it’s often doing stupidly easy stuff that’s going to allow you to make friends and land your dream job. It’s doing the stupidly easy stuff that almost no one else is doing that can most readily set you apart from the pack, and up for success.

What is some of that stupidly easy stuff? Below you’ll find a (non-exhaustive) list of the things it’s hard to believe people don’t do more often, and which have a huge ROI because most people can’t be bothered.

1. Send a thank you text when you get home from a nice party/date. In my opinion, this is the #1 easiest and best way to be a more charming texter. Yet almost no one does it. When someone has you over for dinner, or you take someone out on a date, once you part ways, they typically worry a bit as to whether or not you had a good time. And a party host wants to know their effort to throw the shindig was appreciated. So even if you thank your date/host in person at the end of the evening, once you get home, shoot them a confirming text saying, “Thanks again for the delicious dinner. We had such a good time!” Trust me on this, it’s stupidly, stupidly charming.

2. Write handwritten thank you notes, always and often. When an occasion was especially nice, instead of sending a text, write the person a handwritten thank you note and stick it in the mail. And send handwritten thank you notes for anything and everything else. Received a gift? Thank you note. Job interview? Thank you note. Someone helped you move? Thank you note. Someone went to bat for you at work? Thank you note.

Thank you note writing has become such a lost art, and receiving snail mail is so delightful, that sending handwritten appreciation has become one of the most effective ways to set yourself apart from the pack.

3. Edit your emails/texts before sending. No one ever catches all of the spelling and grammatical mistakes contained within their communications, but giving your texts and emails a couple reads before you hit send will tighten things up. These “clean” missives significantly contribute to making a winning digital impression.

4. Know how to make small talk. We spend so much time behind screens, that when we finally meet people face-to-face, our conversation can often be awkward and stilted. But being comfortable with small talk opens a tremendous amount of doors; sure, it starts out with the superficial, but it’s the on-ramp to deeper discussions — the pathway to relationships with potential lovers, new friends, and future employers. Fortunately, once you know the simple methodology that makes small talk flow, it’s easy to master.

5. Don’t be a conversational narcissist. Related to the above. The only kind of talk many people know how to make these days, is about themselves. Someone who knows how to listen and ask good questions comes off as stupidly charming.

6. Don’t look at your phone during a conversation. In an age of scattered attention, a person who can concentrate their attention on you, and fight the urge to look at their phone while you eat or talk — someone who can make you feel like the most important person in the room — is a charmer par excellence.

Can’t seem to pry yourself away? Check out our complete guide to breaking your smartphone habit.

7. Dress well for a job interview. You don’t have to show up to a job interview in a three-piece suit (unless the position calls for it); overdressing can make as poor a first impression as under-dressing. But showing up dressed just one notch above what current employees at the company wear will immediately set you apart from many other candidates. Well-shined shoes, a pressed shirt, and good hygiene will help too.

8. Come to a job interview prepared to ask questions of the interviewer. Whenever we post this article on “10 Questions to Ask in a Job Interview,” HR folks always weigh in with how “amazed” they are at the number of candidates who stare blankly when asked at the end of an interview, “Do you have any questions for us?” Know some questions to ask going in.

9. Take a woman on a real date. In a landscape of “What’s up”? texts and non-committal hang outs, taking a lady on a real date puts you head and shoulders above other suitors. What constitutes a real date? Watch this video and remember the 3 P’s: Planned, Paired Off, and Paid For.

10. Offer a sincere apology when you mess up. My generation seems to struggle with saying “I’m sorry” when they make a mistake. Numerous times I’ve had my order messed up at a restaurant, and when I bring it to the attention of the waiter or manager, they just shrug, say “Okay,” and fix it, without saying, “I’m sorry about that.” Then the other day an order of mine got messed up, and the manager took a totally different tack — comping my whole meal and bringing me a free dessert. That kind of treatment is so rare, it was unbelievably winning. I even found the manager after my meal to tell her so, and let her know I would specifically make an effort to return because of her gesture.

As it goes in the restaurant biz, so it goes with everything else. Most of your fellow employees will just say “Okay” when an error is brought to their attention. Offering a sincere apology that demonstrates you take responsibility and understand where you messed up and how it affects the company, will easily set you apart (so will immediately trying to make it right and preventing it from happening again).

And in your personal life, apologizing when you stumble is stupidly endearing. You’ll probably mess up again, and often with the same issue, but even when you can’t completely overcome your flaws, showing you’re at least completely aware of them goes a long, long way.

11. Follow through. I get a lot of emails from guys who want to do something with the Art of Manliness, like write a guest article or strike up a business partnership. They are excited! They are passionate! They are…MIA. They never follow-up or follow-through on their idea. I’ve often wondered what happens between their excited initial email, and their descent into silence. But whatever it is, it can easily be avoided by those committed to following through.

12. Be reliable. No quality today can more readily set you apart from your peers than reliability. Doing the follow-through just mentioned. Showing up on time (and just plain showing up). Meeting deadlines. Managing expectations and not overpromising. Promptly responding to emails. Keeping your word.

Are freelance graphic designers, artists, video/audio editors, app developers, programmers, contractors, etc. a dime a dozen? Surely. But a reliable creative professional or handyman? A pink unicorn. If you couple talent and skill with reliability, it’s stupidly easy to dominate your competition and your niche.

When you survey the economic and dating markets, they can seem incredibly oversaturated. Demand seems high and resources seem scarce. But when you take a closer look, you’ll find that while there are plenty of people all grasping after the same thing, there are only a few executing well on the attempt. Setting yourself apart isn’t complicated or hard; it often involves simply doing the stupidly easy stuff that everyone else overlooks.

Their obtusity is your gain; see through the myth of scarcity, take care of the basics, and the world is your oyster.

#my links #art of manliness #etiquette #the myth of scarcity

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1281

survey by chasingghosts

Who?

Who was the last person you had an intelligent debate with? Not so sure - maybe Angela and Reena. Our group chat will occasionally veer towards serious topics.

Who was the last person who cooked something for you? Dad, I believe; but I can also hear my mom preparing breakfast downstairs so she will be the next last person haha.

Who was the last person who you heard singing? Other than me, my co-worker Dev’s sibling when we had our weekly ~fade-out-slash-bonding call with the rest of the team last Friday. She had left her mic on while we were all doing the last remaining bits of work for the week and I could hear her sibling humming in the background.

Who was the last person you kissed and it meant something? My ex.

Who was the last person you were upset with? Myself.

Who was the last person you danced with? I don’t really dance with other people unless...like, drunk. But I guess my swaying and bouncing with Angela when we watched Sowoozoo counts.

Who was the last person you felt awkward around? The food delivery rider who was bringing food my aunt wanted to send over to us yesterday. He seemed very confused for reasons I’m still very confused by lmao, so it all made for an awkward encounter.

Who was the last person who borrowed something from you? My mom went into my closet last week to grab something of mine, but I have no idea what it was since I had been half-asleep when she walked in.

Who was the last person who showed you how to do something? My dad taught me how to make coffee that wasn’t from a 3-in-1 sachet lol.

Who was the last person you went shopping with? I don’t really go shopping, much less with other people.

Who was the last person you had a crush on? I haven’t crushed on anyone since my ex, and the people I find attractive nowadays are all celebrities haha.

Who was the last person who made you cry? Myself.

Who was the last person you shared a bed with? Oh, that’s been a while. Still Gabie, I’m pretty sure.

Who was the last person you got drunk with? We were quite a bunch at Angela’s place two weeks ago, but I’ll name a few - her, Reena, Pia, Hans, Al.

Who was the last person who touched your hair? Not sure. Maybe my dad.

What?

What was the last pair of shoes you wore? It was a pair of adidas sneakers.

What was the last birthday party you attended? The last birthday celebration (not necessarily a party) I went to was Angela’s. I darted to her house straight after work that day cos there was no way I was going to miss out on her birthday.

What was the last thing you said to your mother? I think it was just to bid her goodnight last night.

What was the last song you listened to? Seesaw by Suga.

What was the last thing you thought about before going to sleep last night? I was thinking about my headache and how I wanted to fall asleep immediately.

What was the last fun thing you did with your family? We had a Zoom party yesterday to celebrate my cousin Bree’s 12th birthday! Her family sent over takoyaki, milk tea, and pizza to all the households who went and we watched the birthday clips we sent for Bree. It was a lot of fun and it was a super nice break from how monotonous my weekends could be.

What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? My sister’s microfiber cloth so that I could clean my glasses.

What was the last vegetable you ate? I’m blanking out...which is weird because my dad puts veggies in most of the dinners he makes hahaha. Probably something like lettuce or pechay??

What was the last thing you bought online? My friends and I pre-ordered the second season of In The Soop so that we can watch it when it premieres later in the month. We’ll also have to purchase our tickets to BTS’ next online concert that’ll be happening this month too...thanks for reminding me I have to raise it with them haha.

What was the last thing you had to drink? I haven’t had to drink anything recently but the last thing I took a sip of was my coffee.

What was the last reason you went to see a doctor? Continued from yesterday morning. I had had a fever all week long and we couldn’t figure out how to lower my temperature, so we needed to go so I could finally be diagnosed with whatever it was. It turned out to be a UTI.

What was the last non-food item you purchased? Pre-order slots for a pay-per-view series.

What was the last type of yoghurt you ate? Ooh, I don’t like yogurt. I’m blanking out on the last time I had it.

What was the last fast food place you ate at? I haven’t dined in at a fast food place in a while – I think it may have been Jollibee, when Angela and I met up back in February. But I did get KFC for delivery a few weeks ago.

What was the last thing that bothered you and kept you awake? Doesn’t really happen to me nowadays. I get knocked out most nights.

When?

When was the last time you embarrassed yourself? I guess yesterday? I went to Starbucks to work for a little bit but since I hadn’t done dine-in for a couple of months, I had no idea the government modified the rules a bit and required people to bring their vaccination cards if they wanted to dine in. The barista explained the new rule and I ended up profusely apologizing because I didn’t have mine on me, and I also offered that I could just do take out; but she was nice and let me off the hook and just confirmed with me if I’ve had my shots.

When was the last time you watched a movie with someone? Just myself. I did watch Squid Game - binge-watched all 9 episodes straight - with my sister last Saturday, though.

When was the last time you charged your phone? Earlier this afternoon.

When was the last time you were sick with a cold? I dunno. 1 or 2 years ago, maybe? I rarely get colds.

When was the last time you spoke to a family member on the phone? Yesterday when my mom called me up.

When was the last time it rained where you live? Earlier today. Explains why it’s been humid the last few days.

When was the last time you laid awake, unable to sleep? Like I said, struggling to fall asleep doesn’t really happen to me anymore. I usually exhaust myself until I feel like I can pass out the second I close my eyes.

When was the last time you met someone new? I want to say two Fridays ago when I pitched a presentation to a new set of people but still within a client brand we manage.

When was the last time you filled up your car with petrol/gas? I don’t drive a lot, so it’s been a few months.

When was the last time you ate popcorn? Don’t like popcorn so I honestly can’t remember. My mom makes them occasionally though so I may have grabbed one or two just to have something to chew, sometime within the year.

When was the last time you went to a school event? March last year. A school event that had been held on a Friday was literally the last place I was at – by the time that very next Monday rolled around, classes were already suspended.

When was the last time you took the trash out? I’m not normally in charge of that chore so I haven’t done it.

When was the last time you did anything to change your appearance? Like...10 minutes ago? I just fixed my bun since my hair had started to look disheveled from being up all day.

When was the last time you cooked at home? Sometime in like November last year when I tried to make a sandwich. Anyway, my dad just left today to finally head back to his work for the first time in nearly two years, and I told myself (and him) that I should try to learn cooking at least one meal so that I can manage well while he’s gone haha.

When was the last time you had a sleepover? Maybe January of last year.

Where?

Where did you last go shopping for clothing? Not sure about physical spaces but I did open my Zalora app recently to look for cute bucket hats that I’ll probably never buy anyway hahaha.

Where did you last go on a date to? I don’t even remember. I deleted all photos a long time ago.

Where was the last wedding you went to? Manila Cathedral, if I’m not mistaken. This was well over a decade ago, though. I haven’t been to any other wedding since.

Where did you last park your car, other than home? Angela’s house when I visited a couple of weeks ago.

Where did you last leave your keys? Dining table.

Where did your last kiss take place? By my ex’s car when I was bidding her goodbye.

Where did you last go for a walk to? The mall, yesterday.

Where did you last take a vacation to? It was a staycation more than anything, but we stayed at Tagaytay for a night at the start of this year to celebrate my dad’s birthday.

Where did you last go to celebrate your own birthday? We stayed at home. I reported to work that day then just had a huge dinner with my family haha.

Where was the last place you had dinner at? No clue. I want to say Ramen Nagi? when I ate there on my own last February.

Where did you last go to exercise? Rooftop since it’s open-space and no one can see me.

Where did you last take public transport to? I don’t take public transport.

Where does the last person you hung out with live? A city close to mine.

Where did you last visit for the first time? A Korean restaurant close to Angela’s place.

Where did you last take a photo? Just my room.

#survey #surveys

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nokay-stupid · 4 years

Text

Hey comrades, it's me. It's been a while since my last update but I haven't forgotten about you. I just haven't had much to say.

In 2016, around this time of year, I decided I was taking a break from dating. I kept up with the apps because, like, ya gotta believe, but I was too exhausted from disappointing dates to meet anyone in person. I hadn't felt excited to meet anyone in a really, really long time. I decided to focus in other aspects of my life and let the rest unfold.

Thanksgiving weekend 2016, I received a message on OkCupid that excited me for the first time in months. Let's call him Jay. I met Jay for the first time when I was 16 through a friend. I thought he was super cute but I had no clue how to talk to him, and was hella insecure. (I was also given explicit instructions not to hit on him by said mutual friend, but that's a separate story). A few years later, Facebook became a thing, and Jay and I became Facebook friends. I started to see that we had a lot in common, but still no idea how to talk to him. I thought about reaching out when I saw he moved pretty close to where I moved in 2016, but how does one even do that without being awkward?

The message from Jay was simple: "Hey stranger." I recognized his profile picture from the jump. I had butterflies for the first time in months. I was determined to meet up with him, at least determined to fulfill my high school fantasy of kissing him, but I also had a gut feeling. Either I was going to go on a date with Jay and confirm all my instincts about us getting along that I'd had for almost a decade, or I was dying alone. There would be no in between.

We got engaged last weekend.

I am sharing this all to say, do not give up hope. Have faith in yourself and you can find what you're looking for. There's no shame in looking online. Real life encounters are great, but I would not have a commitment stone if not for OkCupid.

So thanks, OkC, you really got us!

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queer-cat-policy · 4 years

Text

Hi! I’m Ace!

Hi, I am ace. Not like the ace of spades but rather ace as in the slang for Asexual. And here I am, telling you, a stranger this. Not just a stranger but many. Writing essays, countless posts, and telling the world as kindly as possible about how I exist is pretty exhausting. But it is more exhausting being invisible. So now I join a movement, an invisible one fighting for visibility, so that maybe, just maybe, we find others like us.

I like to be fully disclosed, I will give you the definition of asexuality but the rest of it is all me. You cannot apply this article to learn about your friends. Maybe, if they are anything like me, you gain some insight, but the reality is, I write this in hopes that someone reading it will feel a little less alone in the world. Maybe this helps you understand that you are not abnormal, instead you are a human being first and foremost and deserve empathy like one. So, what I am saying is, do not take this article as the be all of asexuality. If you have an asexual friend in your life, you should ask them the questions you have with the intention of strengthening your relationship and becoming informed on a topic you previously were not informed about. And if you are asexual and my experiences don’t resonate with you, I encourage you to seek the rest of the community and know you are valid and you are not alone.

What is Asexuality?

Asexuality by itself at its most basic, universal definition, is defined as a lack of sexual attraction. And that’s it. The rest is a spectrum. There are many different types of asexual people, every single one has different experiences and feelings of attraction or may not even feel attraction at all. So we call this a spectrum and some parts of the spectrum have different titles. I think most people have no idea that attraction outside sexual attraction exists, meaning they didn’t know there are other names for attraction. Someone who identifies as asexual but is still attracted to people can feel aesthetic attraction, romantic attraction, physical attraction, emotional attraction, intellectual attraction, social attraction… and the list goes on.

There is something called the A-spectrum which isn’t just asexuality but aromantic, demi romantic, gray romantic, demi sexual, and gray sexual. Demi means that that attraction does not occur until an emotional bond is formed, gray means someone who has limited experiences with that attraction.

What Makes Me Asexual?

Asexuality means something different for every single person who identifies under it and because I can’t name really every type of asexual person out there, I am going to tell you a little bit about myself.

I am asexual because I feel no sexual attraction to anyone. I, in particular, do not want sex and am quite repulsed at the idea of it. I don’t enjoy the sex obsessed culture either and tend not to partake in it. I do however find people attractive for several reasons, it is usually an individual thing. I emotionally bond with people before I feel anything towards them for one. The attraction from there can be emotional or aesthetic. I know what type of personalities I draw in and enjoy interacting with too. I date and have been in about three relationships in my life but only one was long term.

Romantically, I don’t tend to identify. I say this because things change from person to person (as in depending on the individual I am attracted to). I will usually umbrella myself following the explanation of my asexual identity, stating that I am queer alongside being asexual or if I’m not comfortable talking about my asexuality, I leave it at queer. I say queer because I am attracted to different people for different reasons and sometimes gender isn’t necessarily a discriminating factor. I have mostly emotionally bonded with men in the past, but I find women physically and aesthetically attractive. Additionally, I am not exclusively attracted to men or women, I also can be attracted to transgender and non-binary people.

Is Asexuality in LGBT?

The Asexual community gets a lot of ping pong discussion about rather or not we are apart of the LBGTQIA+ Community. Some people believe that if you are just asexual and hetero-romantic and cis… then you should not be identifying as part of the LGBTQIA+ Community. I won’t get to deep into it, but the truth is, the A is for the asexual spectrum, not just the queer asexual folks. And we too have struggles, some much like the rest of the community and some very different. To leave out asexual people is aphobic in my personal opinion and a gatekeeping tactic. I one time read someone who was upset that the community had become like “the island of misfit toys.” I won’t tell you what to believe about this, but I’ll definitely talk about this in later posts so if you’re interested in reading more about it, keep an eye out!

The Fears of Asexuals…

We live in a sex obsessed culture. Sex is literally everywhere. It is in music, TV, movies, school, social life, work, art, commercials, food----- This culture is absolutely thriving (this is not a good thing) off of the exploitation of sexuality. Especially of women. If you can’t understand the problem with this, imagine hating the super bowl around Thanksgiving or Christmas at… well Christmas, when every store, elevator, billboard, TV series, and artist is throwing Christmas in your face. Except for asexual people, this is our life everyday we wake up and live in the world. Every. Day.

Because everyone around us is so obsessed with sex, asexual people can feel overwhelmingly alone. And for those seeking a significant other, that is a legitimate fear. Everyone else around us in relationships all require the one thing we will not give: Sex. You’ll never guess the number of times I get unmatched on dating apps after someone asks me what asexual means or after the first time I mention it outside my profile… because I guess if I don’t say anything than all the flags on my profile that include my sexual identity can be potentially false?

Asexual people, because many of us are very uncultured in sexual cues and such, are also at risk of being sexually abused and assaulted. Asexual people have gotten into situations where they are legitimately sexually attacked either because they have rejected someone or someone tries to change them by forcing themselves on them, or because they miss cues. Remember though if you have been sexually assaulted it is not your fault. There is no “what if I did this differently.” We are trained currently to be blameful of ourselves in sexual assault situations. But the fact is, if you did not consent to it- if there was no clear/in the right mind consent to it- it should not have happened and there is absolutely no excuse on the attacker’s part that should change that verdict.

Another part to being in a sex obsessed culture is just the sheer disbelief that people exist that do not want it. Rather it is for the intimacy or instincts, it will truly awestruck people of all kinds to the point they may tell us that we are not real. Not valid. Every asexual person has heard “you haven’t found the right person,” “How do you know if you’ve never had it,” “you can’t be asexual, you have a significant other,” “Love can’t really exist without sex,” “you’re just scared.” And we think about these things like ‘what if,’ and let other people’s invalidation of our identities invalidate ourselves.

Asexual Relationships?

It is a common misconception that asexual people do not date or do not have these kinds of intimate relationships. It is true that some people who identify as asexual also identify as aromatic or choose not to date or seek intimate relationships, but this does not describe the entire asexual community. Some asexual people will only date other asexual people, some do not. Asexual people in non-asexual relationships may come to a compromise in that relationship or vice versa. But it is incredibly important to remember that what matters most is that both parties are being satisfied. That may mean we discover that this partner is not the one. The needs need to be met on both sides.

As previously mentioned, there are a lot of people who think love must come with sex. You are more likely to come across someone with that mindset on the street than not. I personally try to meet people via online dating, and I would not say I have been 100% successful or unsuccessful. I have made several friends, I have had a boyfriend, I have done a lot of dating, I’ve also been unmatched as soon as they realize I am not wanting to sleep with them. That can be extremely… demeaning. And bad for self-esteem. I wrote something a little about how it feels to be consistently rejected for being asexual. I get rejected sometimes before people even know what asexual is. They know it is something from the LGBTQIA+ Community, it’s not straight, it’s not normal. And yes, maybe I shouldn’t want to be with someone like that but it feels like there are more people like that than not and there is no cure for the overwhelming fear that I will end up alone. It also creates an uncertain anxiety when I do not know why I may have been rejected. My brain defaults to “it’s because I’m asexual” and I go through the same devastation I would if I knew for sure it’s because I am asexual.

On the other side are the people who decide to date an asexual with the intention of being the one to “fix us.” Or they think it will change- because ultimately, they don’t believe in asexuality. Or they think it is personal, like instead of me being repulsed by sex I am repulsed by the person. For me, since I am not a very physically affectionate person (even when I am that comfortable with someone, it is very limited), that’s more common than I ever thought possible. That kind of says something about our society more than the individual, in my personal opinion. It says that our society as values our sexuality (especially as women) more than other parts of our personality.

Something I will include in here, friendships. A lot of my friends do not know how to talk about my sexuality. They don’t know what it is, it makes them uncomfortable, they think they have to give me the sex ed run down, or they think I have to be in PG settings all the time to be comfortable. No, I don’t necessarily want to hear in detail about your sex life but if there’s something you want to tell me, I’m not a fragile flower you have to protect. Friends also may constantly bring up my sexuality in an environment where it may not be comfortable. My friends have sometimes flaunted it like a golden ticket, like a token queer friend. I have to tell them to stop and if they don’t, I have to reconsider our friendship. Our sexual orientations are personal, no matter how out and forward we are, it belongs to us, to you. Coming out belongs to you and it is never insignificant enough to deserve to happen against your own free will.

Dear Ace Community Let’s Communicate!

The last thing I want to add here is just a suggestion for the asexual community. I see a lot of people who post about the exhaustion that comes with having to constantly re-explain ourselves to partners, friends, people of interest… Stop being exhausted. Do not tell them to google it. Someone is trying to understand you, googling is not understanding you. Take it as a compliment and be ready to explain and advocate for yourself and our community. Communication is so important. Google does not tell that person who you are, especially because we are on such a wide spectrum. I advise strongly against it. And probably, when you have to have that conversation, don’t have it over text. At least for me, I say so many more meaningful things when it’s face to face or over the phone at the very least versus over text message. I’m not just being a parrot of information from what I know the internet has told me, I’m telling that person about myself and what it means for me to be asexual. Communicate what it means for you to be asexual.

If you have an asexual friend, don’t be afraid of them. Know that you can’t change who they are, they don’t want you to try, you can’t “fix them.” If you don’t understand them, ask questions and don’t be critical.

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any question, reach out on my tumblr or contact page!

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spockina · 4 years

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you should be my boy

written for day 2 of the @buddiefirstkissweek! the prompt was in the heat of the moment / interrupted, but i decided to combine the two :^) i wasn't sure if i'd be able to finish any of the prompts, so just getting this out feels like a win!

!!you can also find it on ao3!!

(title is from summer, by brockhampton, and doesn't entirely have anything to do with the fic, besides having a great vibe, because titling is my nemesis in this writing game~)

2.9k words / oblivious!eddie / unbeta’d

They are not in a relationship, Eddie keeps reminding himself.

They’re not in a relationship, and so it’s entirely reasonable for Buck to have other things to do with his free time. It’s ok for Buck to go on a date with someone. And it’s ok if said date makes Buck cancel their long-standing Friday evening plans, even if those plans include Christopher. If Christopher is going to ask and moan and be a little bit annoying tonight, hey!, that’s Eddie’s problem, right? Especially because Eddie is going to be just as annoyed. They can be annoyed at Buck together, that sounds like a fun Friday night.

He tries to smile, swallowing the knot he can feel tightening around his Adam’s apple, but he’s not sure how successful he is. Not very, if Hen’s expression is anything to go by. He turns around to finish getting changed, goes on: “So, this date, huh? Do we know her?”

“Nah, you don’t know him.” Buck says, easy, buttoning up his shirt as if Eddie didn’t do the one thing that annoys Buck the most and assumed it was a girl. They’ve talked about it. Eddie feels like an asshole for a minute.

“Alright, Buckaroo,” Hen teases, “who is this boy? Tell us everything.”

Eddie doesn’t want to hear, but is there anywhere else he could be right now?

Buck’s smile is huge, and honestly, Eddie is starting to feel justified. So, Buck doesn’t wanna hang out with him and Christopher, huh? Anything else is better than them, then?

“We just met on an app, you know, it’s not really anything. But I thought it’d be a good change of pace, you know? Get -” Eddie tunes him out. A change of pace? From watching Disney movies with Eddie and his nine year old? Buck needed a change of pace from that, huh? Fun. Funny, even.

Not in a relationship, Eddie’s brain supplies, unhelpful. Well. Helpful, at this moment, when Eddie is trying not to be mad at his best friend. But, still. He’s not upset, he’s not. He just doesn’t really understand what’s going on with Buck, and he hates the not-knowing.

“Eddie?” Hen says, with the tone of someone who has said it before. He blinks slowly at her.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going up for breakfast and you’ve just been staring into nothing. You with us?”

“Yeah, yeah, just distracted,” he says, and doesn’t even really feel like he’s lying.

The thing is: he doesn’t know why he’s feeling like this. Buck’s his best friend; he should be happy Buck is going out there, trying to find someone good for him after the mess his love life has been the past couple of years. His own love life has been a mess, and while he’s not ready to get back in the dating scene again, he should be happy Buck is. Because Buck deserves someone who loves him, is good to him. Eddie know that more than anyone. He knows how good Buck is, how far he’s willing to go for the things he loves. Buck deserves to find someone who will give him the same, who will do the same for him.

Breakfast should be uneventful, but no one stops talking about Buck’s impeding date later tonight. Eddie doesn’t want to listen, but he can’t help that he’s literally right there, that they’re all having breakfast together. Buck’s date is called Andrew; he’s taller than Buck, he’s blond, apparently very white. He’s a lawyer, has two dogs, is vegan, and an environment activist. All things Eddie is not.

What?

What did he just think?

Why did his brain immediately provide him with the awful thought of “he’s all the things you’re not”?

The alarm goes off, but Bobby still says, “Give me his name, I’ll have Athena run his name and make sure he’s good to go,” and Eddie gets to watch as Buck pretends not to be pleased at that, failing miserably in the process.

It doesn’t go better after that.

Maybe it’s because Buck hasn’t had a date in a while. For the longest time, now, Friday evenings have followed a perfect script: they go home together, help Christopher with homework (more Eddie’s thing), play with Christopher, make dinner (always Buck’s thing), do dishes, pop a kid-friendly movie, put Christopher to bed (whichever Christopher has decided he wanted on that day). Then, they change to some movie or game, get some beers. Buck usually crashes on Eddie’s bed. They eat pancakes come Saturday morning (Buck makes them).

For the longest time, Eddie hasn’t had competition for Buck’s attention.

That’s what it is, right?

The second call of the day comes almost as soon as they changed back into their station clothes, and dispatch says it’s going to be a rough one. They change back into their turnout gear, and get moving, everyone hyped up on whatever’s about to happen.

On call, it’s almost as if nothing’s happening inside his mind. He appreciates that.

They move seamlessly, bouncing off of each other, anticipating one another’s movements, working in perfect tandem.

When they’re done, Eddie finds himself thinking about how he loves working with Buck, loves knowing they’ll catch each other, that he can trust blindly.

And then he remembers the rest of this day, things that happened and things that will (not) happen. And then he’s angry again.

The whole ride back, he can’t stop thinking about it.

He doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, and he hates it. He absolutely hates it, not knowing why he’s feeling some typa way. He never said he was very in touch with his feelings, just in touch enough that he usually knows at least what’s going on generally, if not right down to the details.

Right now, though, he doesn’t know shit, and that’s a problem.

Ok, so, he’s being snappish.

He knows that, he just can’t help it.

He’s being so unbearable that he’s put in lunch duty, which everyone hates, including himself. (Well, everyone except Buck, of course. Buck loves it.) It’s just Bobby droning on and on about things Eddie does not care about, while he’s made to cut vegetables into pieces that get smaller and smaller every time he makes a mistake. He can’t even bring himself to pretend to entertain Bobby, which is his usual behavior when he ends up here. Right now he’s just quiet, big knife working harder than it needs to.

Buck pulls up beside them, smile just a little bit uncertain, more into Bobby’s personal space than Eddie’s. Eddie hates it.

“That’s sharp, Eddie,” he teases, “you don’t need to go that hard.”

“Hey, you wanna take my place?” Eddie says, sharp, hard. As soon as he says it, though, he regrets it.

He wasn’t going for any specific tone, wasn’t even thinking about it when he spoke. He’s just not good, not today, and he didn’t watch himself for a minute.

Everyone’s watching them, though. Buck’s remark did not warrant the rudeness Eddie replied with; it was too much even for him. He closes his eyes for just a second, and resumes his chopping, pointedly ignoring everyone around them, not giving anyone anything.

And so the day goes.

Eddie continues to be annoyed and annoying in equal measures, he knows, but he just can’t help it.

He suddenly understands Christopher in ways he doesn’t think he has before. Everything is too much and nothing makes sense. If nothing good comes out of this day, then at least he knows he’ll have a better understanding of his son’s tantrums going forward -- he, himself, could thrown one right now and feel no shame about it.

The whole thing comes to a head, as this stuff usually does, right after their 4pm-24-hour-shift dinner.

He’s doing dishes, as a punishment for apparently being twelve years old today, quietly and broodingly minding his own business, when they all move their conversation close to him, to the kitchen island.

He does not want in on this conversation, having gathered it is, again, about Buck’s stupid date tonight.

“Athena looked him over,” Bobby is saying, and Eddie hopes that, against all odds, he’s about to forbid Buck from going on this stupid date. Of course, it’s not what he says. Instead: “Looks like a great guy, Buck. Clean record, not even a speeding ticket. Wealthy. Graduated with honors. You could definitely have done worse.”

They all laugh.

Don’t say it. ¡Cállate, Edmundo! No digas nada.

Ah. To hell with it.

“Just ‘cause he doesn’t have a record doesn’t mean he’s clean.” He aims for nonchalant, but he knows he’s missed by a mile when everyone goes quiet around him.

“What?” Buck says.

He shrugs. “You never know what he could be hiding is all I’m saying.”

“Why would you even say that, Eddie?” He doesn’t look behind him, but just from Buck’s tone, he can hear the frown in his voice, the disbelief. The disappointment, a voice says in his mind, and he hates it.

“I’m just looking out for you!” He offers, indignantly. “That’s what best friends do!”

“No, man, that’s not -” Buck starts, but Eddie is done, done, done.

He wants this day to end, he wants this shift to be over, so he can go home to his son and their Buck not being there; to be miserable in peace where his friends won’t see, where Christopher won’t notice.

He doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, and at this point he doesn’t care, just wants to go home and be alone for the 15 minute drive. That’s all.

He throws the dish towel on the counter and storms down, but Buck’s just one step behind, and he doesn’t have to look to know it’s him.

“What the fuck is going on with you today, man?” Buck says, as soon as they’re in the changing room.

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing? You’ve been weird the whole day, man, just, out with it, this is getting exhausting.” Buck does sound tired. Eddie makes the executive decision of not caring.

He doesn’t get to say Eddie is tiring when he’s the one bailing out on movie night. Which, turns out, is exactly what he ends up saying.

“Oh, so you’re tired? You’re tired?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what you heard. I guess you’re tired for movie night but not to go on a date with a stranger, huh?”

That throws Buck, he can tell.

“What?”

He goes on anyway.

“Priorities, Buck. I got where yours are at.”

He’s not expecting Buck’s voice to drop and go cold the way it goes when he says, “Eddie. You don’t get to say that to me.”

He’s the one confused now. “What?”

“You don’t get to talk to me about priorities, you don’t get to imply that I don’t care about Christopher.”

“That’s not what I said,” Eddie grumbles. He suddenly feels like backing out of this conversation -- well, he never wanted to be in it to begin with. He doesn’t wanna apologize, but he really, really wants it to be over.

“Yes. Yes, it is. And you don’t get to say it. You don’t get to play me like this, Eddie.”

And he’s angry again.

“What the fuck are you talking about, man?”

“I’m talking about you being an asshole this whole day for no reason! I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but I don’t like it, Eddie!”

“I don’t like it, either, but you don’t see me throwing a fit!”

“Yes, I do! We all do! It’s what you did the whole day, Eddie, c’mon!”

“How about you go get pretty for your date, huh?” He spits. He didn’t mean to, but he knows that’s what it sounds like. He keeps going, too late now. “Go get all dolled up for this cute white boy o’ yours, yeah? I’ll have movie night with Christopher and -”

Buck interrupts him. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up, huh? Why don’t you quit talking outta your ass, Eddie?”

He shakes his head, angry, upset, hurt. And he still doesn’t know why.

Not until Buck’s suddenly too close, moving into his space, crowding Eddie against his own locker. He doesn’t know why, until Buck’s moving his head down and his air is mingling with his, until he can feel Buck’s mouth ghost his, until -- until they hear,

“That’s enough!”

Buck jumps back, surprised, and turns around in time to see Bobby crossing the space between the stairs and the locker room, Hen and Chimney in tow, the two of them more curious than worried.

“Whatever you guys have to fix, go do it, right now. You’re done with your shift for the day. Next time I see you, I hope you have worked through whatever’s going on.”

They all look at each other in silence, until Bobby moves, and Hen and Chimney follow helplessly.

Eddie watches as Buck change into his civilian clothes, packs his bags in silence, leaves. He doesn’t look at Eddie again, and Eddie doesn’t say anything, either.

Figures they crossed a line none of them meant to, even if Buck was the one to do it.

Buck’s Jeep is there when he gets home, and Carla’s car isn’t.

He was not expecting that.

“Daddy!” Christopher yells, jumps up as soon as Eddie moves into the kitchen, where Buck is helping him with homework. “Buck came home earlier than you!”

Eddie eyes him. “He sure did.”

Buck, unexpectedly, is smiling at Eddie. It’s Eddie’s favorite smile, too; a big one, making his eyes crinkle around the edges, his cheeks all the way up to accommodate his lips moving.

They don’t talk, about what happened or much else, save to decide on dinner and movie. It’s a quiet affair for the most part, and halfway through their movie night routine, Eddie almost forgets something was wrong earlier. Then, they start to laugh more freely, to move around each other more naturally. For a change, they put Christopher to bed together.

Eddie can’t stop thinking about that almost moment in the lockers. Buck scurries away to the bathroom, telling Eddie to pick a movie, and Eddie wonders if that’s it. He wonders if he had the realization of his life, if Buck brought that upon him, but then thought it was a mistake, wasn’t worth it, wasn’t good enough for him. He’s lost in thought, no movie or beers or anything, just standing in the middle of his kitchen, confused and lost.

“I can hear you thinking, Eddie,” Buck says, teasing, but it still makes Eddie jump out of his skin.

“Fuck, man, warn a guy!”

Buck’s laughing, eyes tiny, smile big, and oh. Oh, God. Eddie is in love with him.

Sure, he realized he really wanted to kiss Buck, and that was probably why he hated that Buck was going on a date, but this? This is earth-shattering. This is a whole other level of fucked, God, he’s so, so fucked, isn’t he?

He’s a mess of a single parent, working triple to make ends meet, trying and failing, day in and day out, to fix his anger management issues, not close to his parents, heavily relying on Abuela and Pepa and Carla and Buck to take care of his child.

Buck couldn’t possibly want him. For a best friend, sure. Not for a partner.

God, what an idiot.

He had to go and fall in love with his best friend, huh? And not even realize it. No doubt Buck was running away from him.

“Stop thinking,” Buck says, softly, smile gone, but mirth still in his eyes.

“Can’t turn off,” he says, mechanically, which sets Buck off again.

“I think I got a way,” Buck says, when he recovers. “It seemed about to work before Bobby busted us.”

Wait, what?

And then Buck’s kissing him.

Eddie’s being kissed.

Buck’s lips are plump, and they taste vaguely like the mushroom spaghetti they had earlier. Then, he’s licking into Eddie’s mouth, both of his hands coming up to cup Eddie’s face on each side, and, oh, God, Eddie’s gone.

He spurs into action, pulling Buck against him, his back hitting the kitchen counter, Buck looming big over him. He loves it. He drags his hands up Buck’s back, relishing on the fact that Buck’s back is broad and he’s allowed to touch, which, what? He didn’t even know he wanted it, and in the span of the last six hours, not only did he learn he wants, but he’s also been granted permission, and by God, he’s enjoying it.

Buck is the one to pull away, Eddie following blindly, which makes Buck snort softly against his mouth.

“See?” he says, tease dripping from his tone, “Told you I knew how to turn it off.”

“You suck,” Eddie says, but there’s no heat.

“We can arrange that,” Buck smirks, and Eddie’s knees go weak.

Suddenly, there’s heat again.

Did you and Eddie work things out?

yeah lol

How was your date?

man, it was GREAT

Glad to hear

i’m sure you are

(attached is a picture of a shirtless Eddie standing by the kitchen counter, looking straight at the phone, but apparently not knowing his picture is being taken)

we had a great time

don’t tell anyone yet tho ;)

#buddiefirstkiss #firstkiss2020 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fanfic #911 on fox #i don't know what else to tag but! i'm excited!

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yoddream · 5 years

Text

The Price to Pay | n.jm

pairing: jaemin x fem!reader

summary: when you’re given your dream job, what will happen to you and Jaemin?

warnings: ANGST, bad writing lmao, depression (not specifically mentioned but it’s obviously there), a shit ton of crying, jaemin being kind of an asshole ngl, mentions of hockey (only because there might be some things that don’t make sense idk maybe they do to somebody who doesn’t watch it), VERY INACCURATE INFO ON BECOMING A TRANSLATOR

notes: here’s part 2 to New Beginnings! idk how to link it lmao im sorry im really bad at this also im iffy on how this came out but at this point whatever i wrote a lot. I’m gonna try to do the bold for korean again (cuz new beginnings on the app is fucking jacked af but on the full website it looks how it’s supposed to) but like just assume that everything the OCs are saying are in Korean and whatever the Dreamies say that aren’t to English speaking people are in Korean

“Please put on your seatbelts as we will begin our descent to Los Angeles, California.”

You did as the flight attendant asked and looked out the window. The ground slowly got closer and closer, and your heart raced with excitement. Despite how you’d felt a year ago, you couldn’t wait to land and start the next chapter in your life. You could still feel the exhaustion from it being in the middle of the night in Seoul, but that was so little compared to all the emotions running through your body.

Once you were out of security, you pulled up FaceTime on your phone and called Jisung. It rang and rang, and you almost gave up when he finally answered the call. He was out of breath, as if he’d just run to get his phone. His face lit up when he saw yours.

“Y/N! You landed safely!” he said. Your parents appeared in the frame, which made you smile.

“I did! I’m heading towards pick-up now, so hopefully I’ll be on my way to the rink,” you told them.

You’d decided you wanted to be an English-Korean translator, so you had been hired as a translator for a new NHL prospect. He was born and raised in Korea, and he knew very little English, so you were going to help him during prospect camp, translating and teaching him English. You expected to be in America until September, but if he made it past both prospect and training camp, who knew what your future held?

“Oh honey, I’m so proud of you,” your mom said.

“We both are. You’re gonna do great, we know it,” your dad added.

You looked around and spotted your name on a sign that was held by a man with a driver’s cap. You told your family you had to go and hung up before walking over. He greeted you with a smile and grabbed one of your bags, heading to the parking lot. You shot a text to the boys, letting them know you’d landed. The drive to the rink didn’t take long, and you were escorted by a security guard through the hallways to an office.

“Ms. Park is here,” the security guard announced before heading back to his area.

“Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Rob Blake, the general manager,” a very tall man in a suit said. He held his hand out to you, which you shook. “We’re very happy to have you here. Chi-won Han’s translator from last year has a new job, so we’re glad you can stay for longer.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blake. I’m very excited for this opportunity,” you stated with a wide smile. “So, where should we start?”

Mr. Blake’s assistant gave you multiple papers to sign before bringing you to get your ID made. You proudly hung it around your neck, even though your picture looked absolutely horrible (you just got off an eleven-hour flight). Then, Mr. Blake himself brought you to a conference room where the prospect, his agent, and the coaches were.

“Everyone, this is Y/N Park. She will be Chi-won’s translator.”

You bowed and said, “Han Chi-won, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Park Y/N.”

The boy bowed as well. “Thank you for flying here, Y/N. You have to idea how appreciative I am.”

You then introduced yourself to the agent and the coaches, dropping your bags to bow and shake hands. You told them about your exact role and how to contact you in case you were needed last minute. You’d been given a phone for work with everyone’s contacts in it, along with a rental car since you still had a valid driver’s license. You were then handed the keys to your apartment, which you would be sharing with Chi-won and one of the Kings’ players, Tyler Toffoli.

“Y/N, do you own any skates?” Marco Sturm, one of the assistant coaches, asked.

You shook your head. “I’m not very good at skating, but I’ll definitely do my best.”

“Have Tyler and Chi-won take you shopping for a pair. We really need you on the ice for drills.”

You translated for the hockey player when his head perked up at his name. He nodded shyly, his eyes darting to the floor. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him; he had no idea what anyone was saying, so for all he knew you could’ve been talking poorly about him. None of you would do that, but he didn’t know any better.

“Camp doesn’t officially start until tomorrow. We just wanted you to meet before then so that you can get situated. before the madness,” Mr. Blake explained.

“I appreciate that. It’s past midnight in Korea, so I’m pretty exhausted,” you replied.

“You guys are all set for today. We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow for day one.”

You turned to Chi-won and asked, “You wanna get food?”

He nodded vigorously, saying, “Tyler and his wife were making breakfast when I was called down here.”

Grabbing your bags, you said your farewells to the men before heading out, Chi-won hot on your feels. When you clicked the key fob for the rental car, a new SUV lit up. You let out a low whistle and popped the hatch, tossing your suitcases and duffel in. You and Chi-won then climbed in and decided on a local diner. The car ride was mostly silent, the radio playing softly in the background. When you walked into the restaurant, his eyes widened in fear as the waitress spoke to him. You ordered juice for the both of you and then started translating the menu with ease, watching his shoulders relax at the sound of a language he knew.

The two of you ate in silence for a couple minutes, simply enjoying your food. You checked your personal phone for any messages, but there was nothing. You weren’t surprised, though. The boys were supposed to be asleep, so you expected there to be nothing, but it still hurt to see that you hadn’t even heard from Jaemin. Then again, you probably should’ve expected as much.

“What?” Jaemin asked quietly.

You’d shown up at the dorms, wearing one of your boyfriend’s sweatshirts and a pair of shorts. Your hair was a mess from stressing out, so you had the hood up. He had to know what was going on, and you were out of time.

“I’m going back to America,” you repeated. “A major sports team contacted me last month to help one of their prospects. He doesn’t know much English, so I’ll be translating for him during camp.”

“When you do leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” You flinched at the sudden rise of his volume, the sound bouncing off the walls. There was no way the other Dreamies hadn’t heard him. There was no way the other Dreames hadn’t heard him, and you started to panic. This was definitely not how you expected this to go. “You’ve known for a month, and you’re just telling me now?!”

“I was going to tell you sooner, but since you’re working on your comeback, you’ve had to cancel dates! I didn’t have a choice but to tell you now!” you argued.

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?”

“I didn’t say that, Jaemin. I’m just explaining that there wasn’t a good time, so that’s why you aren’t finding out until the day before my flight. I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner.” Your hands were wringing in the kangaroo pocket, but it was hidden by the island in the kitchen.

“How long will you be gone?” When you didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched. “How long, Y/N?”

Scared by his tone, you said, “I have no idea. Prospect camp is for a few days, but they’re expecting him to continue on to training camp in September.”

“Are you even coming back? What does that mean for us?”

“I don’t know, Jae!” you snapped. Your voice reverberated off the walls, and you could hear shuffling down the hall. “I don’t know.”

There was a heavy pause. He then asked, “You don’t know if you’re coming back? Or you don’t know what will happen with our relationship?”

“Both.”

“You’re very young to be a translator,” Chi-won stated, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You wiped your mouth with a napkin, giving you time to think of your answer without revealing too much. “My step-dad is from Korea. He and my mom got married when I was nine, but he and my step-brother had to stay there while my mom and I live here. We would visit whenever there was a vacation for school, so I learned it over the years.”

“Do you live in Korea now?”

“Right in Seoul. I moved after I graduated high school last year.”

Chi-won was silent after that. After you paid the bill, you plugged in the address for the apartment building and made the quick drive over. Parking along the street, Chi-won grabbed your bags for you and led you to the apartment. You used the key to unlock the door and walked inside. A man and a woman looked over at the same time from the kitchen and smiled.

“You must be the translator. I’m Tyler, and this is my wife, Cat,” the man introduced.

You shook their hands and said, “It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Y/N Park.”

“Come right in. I’ll show you where your room is,” Cat offered.

You followed her down the hallway to a room that had grey walls, dark wooden floors, and a matching wooden dresser. There was a queen-sized bed with fresh sheets on it and a cream armchair in the corner. Identical nightstands stood on either side of the bed, and there was a bathroom attached to the bedroom.

“Make yourself at home. You look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up,” she joked.

“Yeah, I’m gonna take a quick nap, if that’s okay?” you asked.

“Go ahead.”

Cat closed the door behind her, leaving you alone. You collapsed onto the bed and checked to see if any messages had come in before you’d left the diner’s WiFi, but still nothing. Sighing, you put your phone on the nightstand and let your eyes close, the heaviness becoming too much to fight against.

When you woke up, the sun was high in the sky. You groaned as your arms stretched above your head. According to your phone, it was a little past noon, so you rolled out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Luckily, the password to the WiFi was on the refrigerator. As soon as your phone was connected, it started blowing up with messages and snapchats. The sudden sound made you jump, definitely waking you up. You took some time to respond to the boys and your parents, and it took you a few minutes to notice that none of the notifications were from Jaemin. Sighing, you shoved your phone into your pocket and went looking for Chi-won. You found him in his room, looking at an English book with furrowed brows.

“I’m not starting lessons until after prospect camp,” you said.

The boy jumped, clearly unaware of your presence until you announced it. He closed the book and placed it on the nightstand before looking around the room, avoiding your eyes. Sighing, you sat at the desk that was by the window.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked.

“What if I don’t make it past this camp?” he questioned.

You let out a deep breath and said, “Then you go back to your team in Korea, continue to train and practice, and then next year, you’ll come back. The exact same thing as what you went through last year.”

“What will happen to you?”

“I’ll go back home as well. I’m currently under contract with the team, so if you’re not here, I’m not needed. They’ll let me know when I am. You’re stuck with me.”

///

You and Chi-won walked into the practice rink the next morning, a fresh pair of skates in the duffel bag on your shoulder. You’d gone out with Tyler and Chi-won after dinner to buy them, just like Coach Sturm had told you to. The thought of being on the ice with a bunch of hockey players and falling on your ass was terrifying, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

You headed to the weight room and sat on a bench. Skating wouldn’t come until after they were done for the day, so your bag was simply dropped to the floor. You then pulled out your phone and looked at the last message you’d sent to Jaemin.

You: I know you’re upset, but I would love for you to be at the airport tomorrow.

He never showed up. Everyone else had, but he’d stayed at the dorms. The way the conversation had ended left the status of your relationship up in the air, and you were too scared to ask. Your anniversary was supposed to be in a little over a month, but you didn’t even know if that was something to be celebrated anymore.

The sound of the door opening behind you caught your attention. The players started filtering into the room, shooting odd looks your way. You stood up when Chi-won walked in, moving to his side for when the head strength and conditioning coach started talking.

After a speech, the coach came over and introduced himself, apologizing for missing the meeting the day before. When you assured him it was fine, he transitioned the conversation to the first test he wanted Chi-won to run through. You translated everything as you followed them to the bikes, not missing a single beat. You watched as he pedaled and pedaled, sweat dripping down his face as his leg muscles rippled from the rapid movement. You could hear the cheers of encouragement from the other prospects as they watched the others that were running through the tests.

When there was time for a break, Chi-won took the water bottle you handed him, draining it fairly quickly. He then grabbed the towel from your shoulder and wiped his face and neck, tossing it in the hamper in the corner. He looked around at the other prospects, watching them talk and laugh with each other. You felt bad knowing he wouldn’t take that first step. It was understandable, though. You’d gone through the same thing when you started making trips to Korea; you’d been surrounded by people who understood you as much as you understood them, which was not a lot.

After a few minutes, it was time for more testing. You followed the group around the weight room, mostly watching but translating when needed. Everyone’s eyes were on you whenever either of you spoke, but all your attention was on him and whoever was talking to him.

At the end of the day, Chi-won looked like he was about to drop at any moment. You decided to skip the skating and brought him back to the apartment, using the work phone since it could connect to data. He dozed in the car, his face finally relaxed. You’d never noticed how much tension was there until now. Between the stress of getting past this camp and not knowing what anyone was saying, his head was probably spinning.

When you entered the apartment, Chi-won immediately headed to his room to nap. There was a note from Tyler and Cat that they’d gone to run errands, leaving you alone. You tried to FaceTime your parents, but neither of them answered. You knew the others were rehearsing, so you called Mark, but he didn’t answer either. Feeling dejected, you headed to your room and sat in the armchair. You looked out the window and watched the world below, a sudden flashback to the day you and Jaemin were sitting in the mall’s food court. Your heart ached at the thought of one of the happiest days of your life, knowing there was a chance it was all over.

///

It was the last day of the four-day camp for prospects. You wobbled onto the ice as you tried to skate closer to Chi-won. He looked over and rolled his eyes before skating over, grabbing your arm, and dragging you to the group. A few of the players laughed, but you didn’t care. You would be laughing too if you’d seen it.

Yesterday, they’d run drills, so you got to see Chi-won on the ice for the first time, and you could see why he was their first-round pick the year before. However, the true test was the scrimmage scheduled for today. Drills could be run over and over until you got it right, but in a game if you made a mistake there was no going back.

Once the teams were split, Chi-won helped you to the bench. You could hear your personal phone ring with a FaceTime call, but you ignored it. It was most likely Jeno, calling to talk to you before he finally went to bed. He loved to call you before he went to bed, which annoyed Jaemin whenever you were on a call with your boyfriend. You wished you could answer, since you hadn’t had much interaction with anyone. You mostly translated back at the apartment, leaving you craving to talk to someone, but you felt too awkward talking to Tyler and Cat.

The scrimmage was exhilarating to even just watch. Chi-won was fast, despite how large he was. He wove through players, making fantastic plays. His stick work was quick, and he seemed to know where his teammates were, making passes without looking. There was no doubt in your mind that they were keeping him, but seeing the looks on the coaches faces made it that much better. Chi-won played fairly, probably too much; he always passed the puck for a goal instead of taking a chance himself.

During a break, Coach Sturm was going over a couple plays to Chi-won’s team. You translated as fast as you could, trying your best to make it sound clear and right. Hockey pretty much had its own language, so you assumed it was working when he nodded along. As he was about to head back onto the ice, you grabbed his attention.

“Shoot the fucking puck, man. You’ve made plenty of great passes. They want to see what you’re capable of.”

His eyes widened, but he nodded and bumped your held-out fist before skating back to the face-off. You watched the puck drop, and the game was on. Your eyes never left the player you were there for, his form zipping across the ice with a breakaway. He was denied, but you could tell there was a fire lit under his ass. There were still amazing passes, but he was taking shots on goal more. The goalie was just unbelievably good at his job,

There wasn’t much time left in the scrimmage when Chi-won was skating towards the goal, him against two defensemen. His feet moved in a way you couldn’t explain, and he slipped past the opposing players, taking a shot on goal. You nearly jumped with joy as it flew past the goalie’s shoulder, and you didn’t miss the smile on his face as he celebrated with his teammates.

At the end of the day, Chi-won was asked to dinner with some of the other prospects. He nodded his head with a grin, so they told you the restaurant. Your phone connected to the Bluetooth as you were typing it into the map, and “My First and Last” immediately started playing through the speakers. Chi-won sent a look your way but said nothing.

The other players made sure you and Chi-won had seats next to each other so you could easily translate for him. They asked him questions about his life in Korea and his teammates. He talked about his family, his girlfriend Eun-ji, and his friends. You were learning more about him by doing your job rather than conversing with him yourself. You could feel something heavy settle in your chest as they all talked to each other, only looking to you when you translated.

When you were back at the apartment, Chi-won collapsed onto the couch. You sat in an armchair and stared at the ceiling, thoughts of Jaemin running through your head. It’d been five days since you last heard from him, and you were still hesitant to reach out. He was probably in the same boat, but what if he didn’t want to hear from you? What if your relationship was over and you didn’t know it? You hadn’t talked to the other boys about it, not wanting to drag them into your drama.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Chi-won complained.

“Sorry,” you said quietly. “How do you think camp went?”

“I think I did well. My whole body hurts, though. I wish Eun-ji was here. She gives amazing back massages. I would be in constant pain if it wasn’t for her. I’m definitely the luckiest guy in the world.”

That’s what Jaemin tells me. “Is she gonna be starting college this fall?”

He nodded. “She wants to study sports medicine, so she’ll be studying at Seoul University. I’m so proud of her.”

You looked at the time on your phone before realizing that it was your work one. Your personal phone was still in your duffel, which was in the car. Cursing under your breath, you rushed downstairs and grabbed your phone from the bag.

Jaemin💕: 3 missed FaceTime video calls

Shit. Just in case your relationship wasn’t fragile enough, you’d missed three calls from him. It was the first time either one of you had tried reaching out since you stormed out of the dorms in tears. Worried, you headed inside and returned to the apartment as fast as possible. You tried calling Jaemin back, but he wasn’t picking up. It was about ten in the morning where he was, and he never slept in too much no matter what time he’d gone to bed, so you knew he was ignoring you. Trying again, you cursed and swallowed around the lump in your throat. He finally picked up, and he was not happy.

“Hey,” you said as you moved to your room.

“Hey. Where were you?” he asked.

“We were at camp, and then we went to dinner after,” you explained.

His eyebrows raised. “You went to dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it a date?”

Your eyes widened in shock. “What the fuck, Jaemin? Of course it wasn’t a date! Why the hell would you ask that?”

“I mean, you did say you didn’t know how this would affect our relationship,” he snapped.

“That doesn’t mean I would cheat on you. God, do you really think that low of me?” You could feel the sting behind your eyes of tears forming, but you tried to hold them back.

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Y/N. You waited until the day before you were leaving to tell me about it—”

“I didn’t have a choice, and you know it!” you exclaimed. “You know what? I’m done. I can’t do this right now.”

You hung up and threw your phone across the room, muffling sobs into your hands. Being here, having the job you’ve worked towards the past year, it was supposed to be exciting, yet you were dealing with possibly the worst heartbreak yet, and you didn’t even know if there was a relationship to salvage anymore.

Your phone was ringing with a FaceTime call from Jisung, but you ignored it. He couldn’t see you like this; even though you were partially in the wrong in the fight, he would completely lose it and attack Jaemin. You didn’t want to be the cause of something happening to NCT Dream. It would have to stay to yourself, just like everything else about your life.

///

You’d been in America for two weeks, and you were absolutely miserable. You didn’t talk to the boys as much, ignoring some of their calls so that when you did answer, there was too much to talk about for you to think about Jaemin during the calls. You hadn’t talked to him since your last argument, and you didn’t know what to do. Jisung didn’t now, but it was clear he was suspicious of something. You just wanted to go home, but Chi-won had to stay in California for more training and practice. He’d been invited to training camp in September, so it was easier for him to just stay here until he knew his future with the team post-camp.

Chi-won’s English was improving a little, but it was clear he wasn’t confident in himself. Learning a language was hard, and English was one of the most difficult. From conjunctions to words sounding the same but being spelled different to even the sentence structure, you didn’t blame him for feeling self-conscious and frustrated. You had talked to Jisung, and he’d agreed to speak with Chi-won.

“Chi-won, can you come here for a minute?” you called out.

He walked into the living room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked at your phone, jaw dropping when he saw Jisung on the screen. You held it out and said, “My brother wants to talk to you.”

He took the phone, sending a glance your way before looking back at Jisung. You moved to the kitchen to make breakfast, giving the boys some privacy. You could hear Jisung’s laugh through the tiny speaker, and it made your heart ache. Not seeing him every day felt like torture. You were so used to talk to him every day, but the both of you were too busy with your jobs, not to mention that you were still unsure of what the others knew about you and Jaemin.

As you were making some fried eggs, Chi-won joined you, holding your phone out with Jisung still on the screen. The hockey player sent a look that told you there would be a conversation later, and then he disappeared to his room. You looked at Jisung and smiled, asking him how it went. He said it went well, that Chi-won seemed to really listen to what he’d had to say. A door had opened behind him, and Chenle walked into the room. His face lit up when he saw you, and he ran over and jumped on Jisung’s back.

“Y/N! I haven’t talked to you in so long,” he said, suddenly pouting.

“I know, I’m sorry. Prospect camp was crazy, and I’ve been busy with teaching Chi-won English,” you replied. “I wish you guys were here. You’d love it.”

“We’ll have to visit sometime. Jisung, we gotta head to bed. We have practice tomorrow morning,” he said.

“Sleep well, you two,” you said with a smile.

“Love you!” they shouted, and then the call ended.

You finished breakfast and called for Chi-won. He joined you in the kitchen, taking his plate from you without a word. The two of you sat at the breakfast bar, eating in silence. Tyler and Cat were in Canada for a wedding, so you were alone with him. You waited for him to say something, anything, but he didn’t. Instead, he washed the dishes and went back to his room. He returned a few minutes later in workout clothes, so you changed into your own outfit and silently followed him to the gym downstairs. He started out on the bike while you went to the treadmill, starting a light jog.

After a few minutes, Chi-won said, “So, your brother is Park Jisung.”

“Yup. Has been for ten years,” you panted.

“I didn’t even know he had a sister.”

“No one does. It’s too dangerous.”

“That must suck. I can’t imagine keeping my sister a secret,” he said.

“Seeing him live his dream makes it all worth it. Besides, once I’m living here permanently, we’ll be able to tell everyone who I am.”

///

Getting out of bed was harder and harder as each day passed. You could feel yourself settle into a deep and heavy depression. and it seemed like the people you were living with were concerned. You never felt hungry, you were having trouble finding the motivation to shower, and you were ignoring every call that popped up on your phone.

There was a knock on your door before Cat poked her head in. You glanced at her before turning your attention back to the window. She sat in the armchair and leaned on her elbows, sending a smile your way.

“So, Chi-won and Tyler talked to the team, and they decided that if you want, you can go back to Korea until it’s time for training camp,” she told you.

You sat up slowly and asked, “What?”

“We can all tell how homesick you are, and Chi-won said that you had an argument with someone that sounded like your boyfriend. They have a back-up translator, so you can go home for a little bit,” she explained.

“He told you all that?”

“Well, he used an app to translate, but yes.”

Leaping out of bed, you hugged her tightly, mentally thanking yourself for having showered that morning. She laughed and hugged you back before telling you to start packing. You started throwing your things into suitcases and your duffel bag as she left, and tears started streaming down your face in happiness.

You hugged Tyler and Chi-won in thanks before rushing to the airport, not wanting to stay in America any more than you had to. You called your parents and Jisung once you had a ticket purchased, and they promised to keep it a secret. Jisung was practically vibrating in his seat once he heard the news, and you couldn’t wait to hug your family again.

Somehow, you managed to sleep on the flight. When you landed, it was about three in the afternoon. You raced towards your family as soon as you spotted them, leaping into Jisung’s arms. He lifted you up and squeezed tight, as if you would disappear if he let go. You then hugged your parents, not afraid to let the tears fall down your cheeks.

“I missed you guys so much,” you sobbed.

“We missed you too, sweetheart,” you dad said.

When you were home, you took a couple hours to settle in before taking Jisung with you to the dorms. Not only did you have some boys to surprise, but there was a certain boy with blue bangs you needed to speak to. Jisung seemed to be excited to be on the other end of the surprise.

As you walked into the building, your stomach twisted into a giant knot. You didn’t know how Jaemin was going to react. Before you could dwell on it too much, Jisung opened the door to the Dream dorm. Jeno and Haechan were playing video games in the living area, but they stopped immediately when they looked at you.

“Sunshine!” Jeno shouted. He threw the controller on the couch and ran over, scooping you into a bear hug.

“What are you doing here?” Haechan asked as you managed to pry away from Jeno to hug him.

“They let me come back home until training camp starts,” you explained. “Where are the others?”

“They’re in their rooms. Jaemin’s napping, but Renjun and Chenle are playing PUBG,” Jeno explained. “It’s good to have you back. Jaemin’s been moping every since you left.”

So they didn’t know. “I’ll go see Renjun and Chenle first. Jaemin must be really tired if he’s napping.”

You walked down the hallway and quietly stepped into Renjun and Chenle’s room. They were too busy looking at their phones to notice, so you sat by Renjun and asked how he was doing. He glanced at you and then did a double take before tackling you to the bed. Chenle complained, but when he looked up a screech left his mouth instead as he piled on top. They started asking you a bunch of questions at once, but you shushed them and explained why you were home. Chenle didn’t want to let go, but you explained that Jaemin didn’t know yet.

Jaemin looked so peaceful as he slept. You could just stand there and watch until he woke up, but the conversation needed to be had sooner than later. Quietly closing the door, you walked over and sat on the bed as gentle as possible. Your fingers carded through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He sighed in his sleep, melting under your touch. You called out his name lightly, but he didn’t stir. You tried a couple more times, and his eyes finally opened. He stared at you for about ten seconds before grabbing you. You were suddenly thrown on the bed, and he pinned your arms down before kissing you.

Kissing Jaemin felt like a dream, especially after what you two’d been going through the past few weeks. He pressed kiss after kiss to your lips, finally pulling away with a frown.

"I’m really sorry for how I acted the past couple times we talked. I trust you, and I support your career,” he said.

“I forgive you. God, I forgive you. I’ve been so miserable the past few weeks. I should’ve tried harder to tell you sooner than when I had.”

“Let’s just forget this, okay?”

“Deal.”

He leaned down to press your lips together again, not leaving any space between your bodies. He trailed kisses down your neck, sucking a mark into your skin at the base of your throat. When he moved back to your face, he whispered, “I love you.”

That was the first time either of you had ever said those words. Whenever the two of you were together, there was a good chance another Dreamie was with you, so actual dates were rare, which meant that neither of you felt like it was the right time to say them. However, the past three weeks, had proven that it didn’t matter how much time was spent alone.

“I love you too.”

It was about half an hour before you two emerged from the room. The others made fun of the hickeys that were all over your necks, but in that moment you didn’t care. You and Jaemin were more than okay, and that was all that mattered to you.

95 notes · View notes

jincherie · 5 years

Text

fox rain | intro

• ☽ — pairing: bts x reader • ☽ — genre: crack, fluff, angst, college/uni au • ☽ — words: 9.9k • ☽ — rating: sfw? • ☽ — warnings: this is PRIME crackheadery and headassery, this is literally such a mess fuckk, anyway-- accidental voyeurism, extreme amounts of stress, sleep deprivation (uni life amirite) • ☽ — notes: lets get it miss FOX RAIN!!!!!!!! also: links will be put in at a later date

— posted; 04.05.2019

When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well... maybe not as easy as you think.

— • masterlist | intro | next • —

Living as a University student paddling through your second year means that, as one would expect, you aren’t exactly a poster-girl for good decision-making—especially when it comes to things like sleep and time management. Those two areas in particular are probably your biggest weakness, but at least, you think as you pass through the brief lawn that marks the beginning of your University campus and join the throng of tired, yawning students, you are not alone in your suffering. Inability to catch the recommended hours of sleep and manage your time is a common trait among the student population.

It is your poor strength in these areas that landed you where you are now; dead-tired and still dealing with a delayed stress response that was lingering from yesterday’s deadline. You were up stupidly late last night, running on probably about four hours of sleep across three days, and barely coherent as you hastily emailed one of your assignments to your professor. It wasn’t all that hard for you, but you’d forgotten and by the time you realised the deadline was looming so close it was practically on top of you. You’re pretty impressed with yourself that you managed to make it, in all honesty.

You aren’t unfamiliar with this particular state of exhaustion, but thankfully aren’t as completely out of it as you feared you might be when you finally allowed yourself to sleep last night—or rather, this morning. Which you feel might be a good thing, because if you were any more tired than you are right now then you probably wouldn’t have noticed the change in the air as you amble deeper into campus.

Chatter isn’t uncommon in the people you pass on your way to class most mornings, but currently the air is buzzing. A sense of excitement, anxiety and trepidation mixes together within you, a cocktail with a taste eerily similar to fear, as you push forward. The people are excited, animated… you don’t like it. What is there to be so hyped up about at 8AM on a Friday morning? You decide to ignore the buzz and continue to plod on as intended.

You don’t get too far before your ears are catching excited gossip and hushed whispers exchanged between friends, despite your best efforts.

“…who though? Do you think its someone we know? I really…”

Your ears burn with the effort it takes to strain them, but you’re still walking and now too far to catch anything more from them. The next few people you pass do an excellent job of filling in the blanks one by one, offering their own jigsaw pieces to complete the mystery in your mind. Each new thing you hear stirs a certain sense of paranoia in your mind, the voice that always whispers, is this about you? Usually dismissing it is easy, but the more you hear, the more a tendril of dread begins to twirl within you and entwine around your bones.

“… do they know it’s been leaked? I feel so bad for them…”

“… apparently it was sent to their whole class? That’s so embarrassing…”

Oh god, is it you? Something was leaked? Was it nudes? Wait—you don’t have any nudes to leak. Well, not digital ones anyway. You do your best to ignore the paranoid voice in your head that tells you the poor person everyone is so fussed about is you, hastening your pace and heading towards the building that houses your Music Composition class with renewed vigour.

The people you pass in the halls seem to be abuzz with the same news that everyone else was, and it’s at this point that the dread curling within you is joined by a powerful, burning curiosity. You want to know, god do you want to know what everyone is whispering about. What the hell happened that has everyone like this? How had you not heard anything by now?

More snippets of conversations brush your ears as you near your room, something useful finally brought to light as you hear someone mention an infamous facebook page made by students of the university. Perhaps that is where you will find the answer to the questions flitting across your mind. The morsel of excitement within you is squashed suddenly as you catch something else.

“… what an idiot, to accidentally email everyone. I mean, it’s something I’d probably do, but still…”

You almost trip as your legs freeze and your spine goes rigid, one very important detail surfacing from the depths of your memory. That sounds like something you would do too, and the realisation that just last night you were emailing something particularly sensitive has a horrified sensation sliding down your spine. Suddenly very, very worried, you bolt over the remaining distance between you and the classroom doors.

Your increased speed from before has landed you there much earlier than usual, and the few students that are normally there at this hour shoot you mild looks of alarm before returning to whatever they were talking about before you burst through the doors in your dishevelled, panting state. The teacher isn’t here yet and to your momentary delight there is much more space available, leaving you a wider spread of choices for your seat that what you usually have. You decide to plop your ass in a seat against the wall in the middle-back of the room, quickly pulling out the necessary items for the class and then whipping your phone out, nearly yanking your earphones out by accident in the process.

Hastily, with speed and agility you didn’t even know your fingers possess, you pull up the email app you have hooked up to your private and university emails and slam your fingertip onto the ‘sent’ tab. It takes a second to load, the duration of which you spend resisting the urge to vault yourself over the desk and flee, but when it does you feel your heart drop through your stomach in horror.

The first thing you notice is the abundance of typos and poor grammar that litter the very brief but very incriminating body of the email, and you internally die a bit as you take them all in. The second thing that catches your eye, to your absolute horror, is the actual email address you sent it from. You feel your cheeks catch fire, flooding with heat that spreads all the way to the tips of your ears, and you have never regretted not deleting that stupid, stupid email address you made when you were twelve, more than you did in this moment. You’d not even come anywhere near partly to terms with those first two observations, when you unwittingly make your third, and arguably the worst, observation.

‘bcc: Jodi, Yuki, Jacob… and 423 others’

On god, you’d fucking emailed your heartfelt poem-turned-assessment piece to the entirety of your creative writing course.

You sit in horror for a moment, brain producing some sort of static in the absence of intelligent thought. You feel kind of faint, would it be very alarming to your classmates if you suddenly passed out? Probably—you slap a hand to your cheek, the person in front of you jumping and turning around in alarm at the noise. You don’t even have the presence of mind to assuage their worries because your embarrassment meter is completely fucking maxed out and if you make eye contact with another human being in the next few minutes you know for sure you’re going to combust. God, oh god this is literally your worst nightmare—you’ve had nightmares about shit like this since the night before your first day in high school. Is this karma? You can’t think of anything you’ve done in your meagre years on this earth that would be atrocious enough to warrant a fate like this.

It is in the midst of your current humiliation-fueled crisis that you remember some of the people you passed mentioning a certain facebook page that the university students here held dear— CCU Love Letters, a page where shy individuals could anonymously submit love letters or other such media for the page to post without it being linked back to them. A new shade of horror begins to paint your insides and it’s almost at double speed that you bring up the app on your phone and search for the page in question. It takes a moment to load, but when it does you’re once more stuck fighting the urge to throw yourself over the desk and run away.

There, for all to see, is the poem you’d spilt part of your heart into and submitted as what was supposed to be a confidential assignment piece.

The sight of how many likes, reactions and comments there are already alarms you, but it is as you’re avoiding the comment section that you notice, with an incredible feeling of relief, that nothing like your name or anything similar is present to possibly link it to you. Pausing, you switch apps and go back to the email, scanning it to confirm your suspicions. The great gust of relief that passes your lips has a few heads turning as more people enter the room but you don’t even care, too busy trying not to cry as you console yourself.

Sleep-deprived and incoherent as you were, by some serendipitous miracle you’d forgotten to tack on your name or anything that identified you in the original email, aside from your student number. Even then, the only way someone would be able to link that back to you would be if they find your student card or hack the school systems or something. You’re really about to weep in relief right before your class starts, resting your face in your hands. Have you ever been so close to death that you could almost taste it before? The answer is that you haven’t, but today you almost glimpsed the ruler of the heavens and you’re not keen to repeat the experience.

Attempting to quell the remaining anxiety and humiliation swirling within you, you give yourself a pep talk of sorts. It’s fine, everything is fine. There is no way that anyone would know it was you, and yeah a private poem meant only for your eyes and the eyes of your teacher— perhaps even the person you had in mind while writing it— had been shared to a very public platform where the entire student population could view and read it, but it’s fine. Why? Because they have no way of knowing it’s you who wrote it. A shuddering breath leaves you as you attempt some sort of abridged form of meditation. Fine, it’s fine. You know what? You bet that by the end of your class, no one will even be talking about it anymore. It’s probably old news already, you doubt the mass of student that have better things to worry about than a leaked poem are going to keep being so fussed about it.

Yes, you reassure yourself as the teacher finally enters the room and you begin to prepare the necessary items. By the time your class is over this humiliating incident will be long gone and forgotten in the minds of the student populus, and everything will be fine— just fine.

x x x x x x x

Sweet cheese and bacon rolls, things are not just fine as you leave your classroom two hours later and return to the halls that are now ten times more busy and bustling than earlier. You’d stayed in the room long past the time your class was over, using the excuse of studying on the spot, but now you can no longer avoid leaving as the next class’ students begin to filter in and you dart out.

The buzz is worse, everyone is still talking about it and even though it kind of makes you want to throw yourself into the lake on campus you keep self-soothing with the reminder that no one knows the author of the poem is you. Slapping a half-assed smile onto your face in an effort to convince yourself and think a better mood into existence, you leave the building and head towards the food court. You’re in need of comfort and food mightn’t be the best answer but at least it’s better than letting loose a blood-curdling scream in the middle of the road.

Twenty minutes later finds you sitting at a table in the outside area of the food court with newly bought coffee and a big kebab, dissociating as you attempt to ignore the obnoxious chatter about you know what that floats around you. It’s to no avail, evidently, and you pout as you finally reach for the kebab that’s been sitting there for the past few minutes, untouched but still warm.

“... Are you eating a kebab?”

You don’t even jump at the sudden sound of a voice to your side, remaining in your seat and facing forward as the owner comes around to sit across from you, seat scraping the ground. The familiar sight of your best friend as she gets comfortable in front of you makes the urge to spill your current troubles to her rise within you, but just barely you resist. It’s already a mess enough as it is, you don’t need to add to it.

“And if I am?” you ask, raising a brow in challenge. If she’s surprised you’re getting defensive over food that is clearly a very indulgent choice, then she doesn’t show it.

Sera instead laughs, her eyes closing in her mirth as she sweeps her hair over her shoulder and out of her face. “Seriously? It’s almost ten in the morning, you didn’t want something a bit lighter to munch on? Lunchtime isn’t that far away.”

You grumble incoherently, taking a generous bite of the food in question and glaring at the sweet chilli sauce that threatens to drip down your hand as a result. She simply smiles at you, taking out the container of fruit she likely cut up and packed the night before along with a fork, and digging in. This is a bit of a ritual, since your classes align every second day or so— the two of you usually meet after the first class of the morning for something to munch on and chat over. You both eat in silence for a while before she speaks up again, the chatter of a nearby couple apparently reminding her of something she had to say.

“Oh!” she bursts around a mouthful of kiwi fruit, pointing her fork at you as her eyes widen almost comically. If you weren’t busy attempting to chew and not choke on an alarmingly sized mouthful of meat and lettuce, you might have laughed. “Did you see?!”

Ignoring the feeling of apprehension beginning to seep into your abdomen, you tilt your head in question, prompting her to continue. Thankfully, the overly excited girl takes a moment to finish chewing what is currently in her mouth before she speaks once more.

“Did you see?!” Sera repeats, with just as much zest as before. She quickly amends her statement at the perseverance of your questioning gaze. “Or rather, did you hear? Everyone is talking about it!”

The feeling of apprehension in your tummy grows heavier, weighing it down further, but you can only continue to chew your food with a sense of resignation as the girl reaches into her bag for her phone, pretty, manicured fingernails tapping against the screen with a satisfying sound once it has been retrieved from the depths. Her fingers fly across the screen a few times, metal bangles around her wrist tinkling as their charms collide, before she is setting it down and sliding it over to you. Just as you had expected, what she is showing you is the CCU Love Letter post that displays the entirety of your shamefully romantic poem. You swear, the one time you let yourself be a sap and it gets plastered all over the internet for the entire campus to see.

A part of you is thankful you’d figured it out and seen it earlier in the day, because you know that if the first time you saw it was when Sera showed you then your following reaction would have given you away instantly as the author. Of course, you didn’t know why that would be a bad thing— she was your best friend, this was the kind of shit you should be telling each other. You supposed you just weren’t emotionally prepared enough for the embarrassment that would follow your recount of events. So, it is a confession that can wait until another day when you’re less… vulnerable.

Eyes narrowing at the post displayed before you, you glare at the number that displays reactions and comments. It’s gotten bigger, much bigger, since you last checked, and you don’t like that at all. A sense of betrayal fills you at the thought of the student population doing you dirty like this— are you not bros in suffering? Where is the solidarity? The sisterhood? The brotherhood? The sting of this betrayal is not one that you will forget anytime soon.

You make a discontented noise around the food in your mouth, one that Sera misinterprets as one of incredulity and interest, and wallow in a distinct feeling of regret as she immediately takes it as a signal to let her building excitement flow. This is probably the most interesting thing that has happened for her all semester, you don’t doubt she’s going to hold onto it for a while— you can only hope and pray the same won’t be the case for everyone else.

“Some poor soul in our writing course accidentally emailed their assignment to the entire cohort, and then from there someone must have leaked it and submitted it to the CCU Love Letter page,” Sera whispers, as though she’s spilling trade secrets to you. Her words make it seem like she feels sorry for the idiot that has messed up so badly— little did she know that idiot is you— but the expression displayed on her elfish features is anything but sympathetic. It is excitement and a tinge of something else that gleams in her eyes, but you choose not to dwell on it for the sake of your sanity. You feel like you’re going to implode.

“God,” you begin after finally swallowing the gargantuan mouthful you’d taken before, like the idiot you’re gradually proving yourself to be. “That’s so… I feel so bad for them, whoever they are…”

Sera doesn’t even notice the awkward nature of your weak attempt at contributing to conversation, too busy scrolling through her phone— a quick peek tells you she is reading through the comments on the post. You resist the urge to smack the phone out of her hands. You’re a rational being, you’re above such caveman instincts.

“It sucks for them,” she agrees, once more completely unsympathetic. You can’t say you’re surprised; Sera is the type to develop tunnel vision of sorts whenever it comes to the latest bit of gossip or news across campus. “But god, it’s so juicy… I wonder who shared it— I wonder who wrote it?”

Wisely, you choose this moment to take another, perhaps unwisely-sized, bite of your second breakfast. Sera drums her fingers against the flesh of her cheek as she skims through the comments once more, making a sliver of irritation prick your insides.

“Is this what everyone is talking about?” you query, unable to help your next line of questioning. “Why is everyone so hyped up about it?”

Sera hums, bright eyes flicking from her screen to meet your own. You think she looks perhaps a bit too gleeful considering her best friend is suffering immensely at this current point in time, but then again… it’s not like she knows.

“Don’t you see it?” she asks, tinted lips curling. She pauses only to flick her finger over her screen, scrolling through the ridiculous plethora of comments under the post. “It’s like a modern-day rom-com storyline! Everyone is rooting for the mystery author and their ‘one true love’, and the fairytale ending that is bound to result… I’m pretty sure if people had any idea who the author was there would be OTPs and ships already, to be honest.”

Her words have a shudder of horror rolling down your spine before you can stop it, but thankfully her attention is otherwise occupied with the comments once more.

“Touching…” you attempt to smile but can feel it come as more of a grimace, the panic from earlier beginning to return at even the slightest mention of a hypothetical situation where your identity is revealed. “I suppose that would be kind of romantic…”

Sera hums, nodding, and spears the juice-box you didn’t even realise she had with an alarming amount of vigour. Her grin bunches her cheeks as she faces you again. “I’m dying to find out who the author is and who they wrote the poem about, though!”

With a slightly sickening feeling in your stomach, you take another hasty bite of your food. “Mmhm, me too.”

Is it too late to flee the country?

x x x

By the time your ‘brunch’ with Sera ends and you’re making your way to your next class, you’re fighting the imminent return of the anxiety and panic from earlier. You feel a little high-strung, admittedly, and you’re sure that anyone who passes you in the halls must get the message to give you a wide berth. Resiliently, you continue to console yourself with the fact that no matter your paranoia and fear, no one knows it was you who wrote it. You cling to this a bit like a lifeline, and while a part of you acknowledges that isn’t a very healthy way of dealing with the situation the other parts are living la vida fucking loca and dancing on the precipice of a cliff, the edge of which reveals the possibility of a minor mental breakdown. You’re far too tired to be dealing with this shit but karma got its kiss for you, you guess. What the hell did you even do to deserve this again?

It’s as you near the room where you attend your History of Music class that your attention is wrought from your depressing inner monologue and drawn to a slight commotion in the small seating area to the side. Unsurprisingly, the first person you see is the tall noodle of a man that usually haunts the halls of the musical arts building— surprisingly, the second thing you see is that he’s currently surrounded by a gaggle of girls and guys alike, who flock around him in a manner not all that dissimilar to the way reporters yap at people walking up the steps to a courthouse. You squint, wondering if you were seeing things— since when was Kim Namjoon this popular? Did he commit some blasphemous act forbidden to university students? You once heard he attempted to cut a fruit with the blunt side of a knife, but you didn’t think that counted as a crime against the university— that was more of a crime against common sense sort of thing.

As you walk past, pace quickening because that is one mess you most certainly want no part in from the looks of it, you catch a few of the words thrown into the air. Brows furrowing in confusion, you hasten your steps even more in accordance with the sudden shred of alarm tickling your ribs. The questions the students, who in all honesty look like a bunch of first-years, are throwing at him are all about the moon, and to the odd stranger nearby probably sound like nonsense. To you though… let’s just say that after the events of today so far you have a healthy dose of fear already coursing through yours system and aren’t about to risk your face being caught anywhere near that line of questioning no matter how ridiculously paranoid it made you seem.

“Hey, not to be rude but, uh, I kind of have somewhere to go…” you catch Namjoon’s low register as you zoom past, unable to resist the urge to spare him a brief glance out of curiosity. There are men and women grabbing at his clothes like lost children and he has a look of complete and utter alarm, mixed with a bit of befuddlement, as he attempts to pry their grip off. “Please… my reputation is at stake— HEY, WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TOUCHING—”

Unfortunately for you, your haste to leave the scene means that you’re entering your classroom, the door clicking shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the ensuing struggle, before you can catch what happens next. Angry at yourself for moving too fast for once, you move to your usual seat in a similar manner to a sulking toddler and settle in for the lesson. The teacher arrives soon after and you wish you could say your attention was stolen from the scene you’d just witnessed but alas, today was not the day your poor, weathered professor finally received your complete and undivided attention.

For once, the lesson that usually drags on passes quickly, although you think this probably has something to do with the fact that you weren’t paying attention like, at all. Which for you wasn’t unusual, but you were particularly distracted today— understandably so— and you were in all honesty surprised that your teacher hadn’t called you back to earth at any point in the lesson.

Pointedly ignoring the chatter and topic that is becoming so hauntingly familiar to you as the day wears on, you attempt to reassure yourself again as you depart the room once the class has ended. Everything is fine, this is just a temporary fad, a brief trend. It will die down soon like all trends do, surely.

You aren’t sure if you could have really convinced yourself of that completely, but the further into the day you get the wearier you become. As the day continues, you also begin to notice an increasing number of weird incidences. You haven’t touched your phone since this morning and, quite frankly, refuse to until you get home— at which point you will clear your alarms and attempt to sleep through your problems and the entire weekend. Just barely do you resist the urge to pull out your phone when, on the way to your next class, you see a large gathering of people in the lush, green courtyard area outside the older part of the campus. Slightly concerned, you eye the group when you catch sight of them in between columns, the fact that you’re a little pressed for time being the only thing stopping you from halting in the middle of the path and squinting to see better.

You nearly stumble in your steps though, when you finally discern what is going on. What you thought might have been a pop-up food stall or a club gathering was actually a tall male— who you quickly recognised as one of the campus heartthrobs, Kim Seokjin— who appeared to be holding court over the small mass of people that had gathered before him. You couldn’t shut your mouth it dropped so far open in incredulity at what you were seeing as the male yelled something indiscernible and stepped up onto— onto a stool?— and began gesturing emphatically, as though he was a fresh hire presenting his first pitch in front of company executives.

Coming back to your senses somewhat, you try to shut your mouth and turn on your heel, returning to your original path, as quickly as possible. You’re pretty sure his brand of idiot is contagious and you aren’t willing to hang around and find out if it’s airborne. A part of you desperately wants to know what the theatre major is being so dramatic over, but the remainder reminds you that he’s a theatre major and therefore prone to being dramatic about anything and everything he can get his hands on. You pointedly ignore the tiny minority in your mind that whispers suspiciously that god, what if he was talking about the poem?

Nope, he isn’t. Not a chance. You’re safe because the poem is in writing and you’re eighty-five percent certain Seokjin doesn’t know how to read.

Your next class passes in a little bit more of an anxious haze than the last, and you should be relieved because it’s technically your last class of the day but, unfortunately, your current source of income takes the form of tutoring sessions that occur three days of the week and are held in the closest library to the edge of campus that you leave from. Considering that, despite your two hour block of tutoring that you have yet to get through, you have finished classes for the day, your mood is considerably lifted. As well as that, you’ve either grown very good at blocking the voices out or people have finally stopped gossiping about your stupid poem. Regrettably and unbeknownst to you, the part of you that deep down knows the latter is most definitely not the case would soon be proven right.

The soft scent of vanilla and caramel isn’t one you’d traditionally associate with a library, but thanks to the soft-spoken library worker that resides in the one you frequent it’s a scent that greets you often. The young student enjoys having a nice-smelling work environment and you’re not one to complain; while you like the smell of books and paperback you hate the musty undertones that accompany it in libraries. The second you step foot into the library, somewhat early for your first session, your gaze first zeroes in on the table you usually take, free for you to plop your ass in once more, and second onto the tall form of the boy behind the front desk. You decide to throw him a quick greeting on your way over, for once momentarily distracted from the prominent problem that has followed you through the day.

“Hey, Koo!” you throw a smile over your shoulder as you pass the desk, missing the way the boy startles and drops the thick textbooks in his hold all over the desk. You hear the noise though, and when you turn back the boy, Jungkook, is flushed bright blossom pink and hurrying to bend and gather the scattered tomes. Embarrassed that you scared him so badly he dropped absolutely everything in his grasp, you hurry to take your seat and duck out of view. God, can you please just catch a break today? You’re not asking for much, just a little reprieve from the all-encompassing humiliation that’s been dragging after you like a second shadow all day.

Settling into your seat and avoiding looking back to the front desk like the plague, you bring out the books and materials you’ll need— your first client is a bright-eyed, bright-smiling boy whose name the whole campus pretty much knows thanks to a somewhat hilarious incident that ensued in his first year and had you instantly very easily convinced to stay away from moonshine when looking to get drunk off your face. His sunshine-y disposition meant that what would have been crippling for the social wellbeing of anyone else, had actually turned him into one of the most well-known and popular students that attended the university. It is incredible and you are in awe of it, but have yet to crack the code of exactly how he did it. In all honesty at this point you’re willing to accept that it was just part of his nature that had people loving him unconditionally.

The peace and quiet of the library is more than welcome at this point, and you are able to enjoy it without qualm for a good few minutes before your still-racing mind begins to get antsy. You’re not one that deals well with boredom or being patient for extended periods of time, and you got here early enough before the session that its too much time to pass quickly and not enough to spend doing anything meaningful, like studying. You consider your options for a moment, pondering your last resort. It isn’t the most appealing idea right now, but the thought of sitting in boredom for another however-long-it-took-Hoseok-to arrive is even more unappealing. It is for this reason that you finally cave and reach into your bag, pulling out the phone that has remained untouched since early morning. The screen lights up and regrettably unlocks before you can read the notifs, thanks to the over-eager facial recognition feature your phone has. Deciding to just bite the bullet, you open facebook and click the post to survey the damage so far.

Instantly, you are filled with regret. You don’t know how but the stupid thing has become even more popular since the last time you saw it, and to your absolute horror not only has the reactions and comments increased but also the number of shares. Wincing and regretting your choice of schooling, you allow your finger to press somewhat shakily onto the ‘view more’ option in the comments. Your screen adjusts to fit more into view and you don’t get very far before you’re freezing in your seat, heart stuttering anxiously. There, in the body of the most popular comment, is a link— your stomach sinks as you press it, swallowing heavily. What are you about to see, did someone post a response to your poem? Are people making fun of you? Of your shitty, sappy writing? You wait with bated breath as the page finally loads.

You nearly throw your phone.

Just as you feared, the link leads to a post made in a forum on one of the most popular sites that students at this university used to keep up to date on things that were usually dumb or none of their business, aptly named ‘CCU Campus Stalker Space’. It is the first post in a subforum labelled, “Mystery Moon Author & Their Mystery Muse”, and a feeling of nausea begins to rise within you before you even read the first word.

‘posted by u/triceratops [12:36PM]:

unless you’ve been living under a rock all day, you’re bound to have seen or heard about the latest drama to take the campus by storm. it has been learnt from various sources that in the early hours of this morning a poem was sent to the entire cohort of a creative writing course, presumably by accident, and then leaked to the CCU Love Letters page where it has since taken off and gone viral among the students. the questions on everyone’s minds right now are no doubt the same— who is the author, and who is the subject of this lovely poem? well, that’s what we aim to find out, and that’s what i have dedicated some time to figuring out this fine friday. this thread will be dedicated to getting to the bottom of this mystery, and finding the answers we all want, as well as bringing about the happy ending we’re all rooting for! now, please find below my analysis on the poem and the situation, and the connections i have been able to make thus far ^^’

Distantly, you feel your breath quickening slightly as your chest begins to pinch, wide eyes locked on the screen as you continue to read as though in a trance. Your fingers grip the pen in your hold so hard that it threatens to snap and still, you can’t stop reading— even as abject horror begins to seep into your abdomen and slide over your insides like slick ichor and oil.

‘after analysing the poem extensively, there is one clear theme that surfaces frequently throughout; that of the sky, the stars, but most importantly— the moon. evidence and instances of this will be attached in the post below this, but before that i will say that, taking into consideration the various personalities and reputations attending this university, i have been able to narrow potential subjects/muses of the poem down to seven people. each of them is tied to the moon in some form or another, leading me to include them in this shortlist— i will include my reasoning in the post below this along with the other information. without further ado, here are the seven people i believe to be strong candidates for possible subjects of the poem by our mystery author;’

You want nothing more than to stop reading, to throw your phone and flee the scene, yet you cannot stop— each word your eyes rake over hammers home a feeling of dread and horror that swirls with the distinct sensation of regret within you. One after the other, the names listed below the paragraph you just finished punch out the remaining shards of your sanity and ground them to bits.

‘Kim Seokjin’

Your teeth sink into your lip, gripping at the flesh anxiously.

‘Min Yoongi’

You feel kind of faint, hints of the panic from earlier in the day brushing your senses.

‘Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon’

The slightest sting of pain registers in the back of your mind from the pressure with which your fingers are gripping the table increases, knuckles turning white.

‘Kim Taehyung’

Each name your eyes pass over brings you closer to the section that has an undercurrent of fear thrumming in your veins.

‘Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook’

Your brain almost refuses to let you read the next part, still reeling over the information it just recieved, but as though you’re in a haze your eyes continue to roll down the screen anyway, thumb scrolling absently.

‘these are the candidates i believe most likely to be the subject of the poem. before we explore further on that, i will list those i have narrowed down as potential authors. the list of students in the writing course is vast, but i have been able to discern the most likely few— only 115 of the 423 students in the course submitted their assignments by email, and of those only 12 were in the class that had the deadline that aligns with the time the author’s email was sent. here are the possible authors of the poem;

Jodi Figuro Lee Melody Sarna Sinter Lee Sera…’

Impatient and desperate to prove yourself and your worst suspicions wrong, your eyes skip ahead, scanning frantically. To your absolute horror, you find exactly what you were looking for, exactly what you feared.

‘and finally; y/n l/n.’

For a moment your mind is silent, buzzing almost like a fluorescent light in a classroom, and then the information fully registers and you kind of want to hurl. The last of your sense and sanity is thrown out the window, food for dogs, and you shoot from your seat, cramming your belongings back in your bag. Oh god oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no—

This can’t be happening— it is happening, oh good lord you’re a good person why is this happening to you? You shouldn’t have sent that stupid email in the state you were in, hell you probably shouldn’t have even written that poem in the first place. Now it’s a mess, a big, massive mess and oh god you can’t even console yourself because now you’re a suspect! Now people think you might be the one who wrote the poem! And you are! But people cannot know that! You nearly trip over the chair in your haste to flee. You want to go home, oh lord do you want to dive beneath your covers and perish in the suffocating comfort of their embrace. Is that too much to ask? You really don’t feel like you’re asking too much—

“Hey, y-y/n are you okay—”

You jump so badly at the sound of a voice behind you that you nearly throw your bag into their poor, undeserving face. The abrupt spin you perform on your heels has you facing who you quickly realise is Jungkook, who you rationally know works here and has likely come over out of concern, but all your brain can think at the sight of him is SUSPECT and suddenly your fight or flight instinct is decisively engaged.

“No! Y-yes!” your brain isn’t fast enough to catch up to your mouth, brain cells on their absolute last fucking legs. “It’s not you!”

Poor Jungkook stares at you with a look of complete and utter befuddlement, whipping out the puppy eyes that usually have you caving when he asks for help sorting textbooks at the desk but right now you’re a shell of a woman, a ghost of who you were this morning before all of this, and you can barely summon coherent thought let alone carry a conversation.

“I— what?” the boy is stuttering but you’re three seconds away from a mental breakdown wherein you scream and dig a hole to shove your head in the dirt like a disillusioned ostrich and you can’t handle this right now.

Your brain is running on a loop and the sad truth is that your speech isn’t much better. “Not!” you almost yell, voice at an absolutely inappropriate volume and pitch for a library. “Not you! It’s not you!”

You then have the sense of mind to flee while you can, and without further ado spin and bolt out of the library. If you can just get home in one piece you can gorge yourself on ice-cream, the expensive shit, and pretend none of this ever happened. Head in the sand, that’s where you want to be.

Unfortunately for you, it seems the universe has other plans. You don’t even make it out of the library before you run into the next person to push you closer to a mental breakdown.

“Woah, y/n, where are you going?” the alarm riddling Hoseok’s tone might have touched your heart on any other day, but right now you were too focused on your escape to appreciate the sentimental value of the moment. “We have a session right now? Hey, are you okay?”

You go to tell him that no, you are not, in fact, ‘okay’, but all that escapes you for a moment is a choked sound from the depths of your larynx. You don’t think Hoseok has ever looked as concerned for another person’s wellbeing as he does now, dark eyes wide and slightly frightened. Is it you? You feel like your head is about to explode, does it show?

“Nghgh…. Hoseok,” your voice is a little too high and it only serves to alarm the poor redhead even more. “For personal reasons… I will be cancelling away— passing today— away— I will have cancel. I’m s.. I need to go.”

Making the most of his current shocked-senseless state, you turn and begin to dash down the hall once more. Are you acting suspicious? God you hope not—

“y/n, wait—”

“IT’S NOT YOU!” you squawk in a mismatched response, scurrying down the hall as fast as your wobbly legs will take you. Each step you take is a step closer to home, each step you take is a step closer to home—

Careening around the corner of the library hall, only metres away from the glass double doors that mark the entrance, the last thing you expect is to almost run into two of the other people who are on that god forsaken list.

Kim Taehyung, with his artistically messy mop of light honey hair, is leaning against the wall that houses the vending machines. He appears to be mid-discussion with the shorter red-haired male before him that you know to be his friend, Park Jimin, who in all honesty you don’t think even goes here? You’re so close to the exit that you’re almost frothing at the mouth in relief yet you can’t help the way your eavesdropping little ears pick up on their conversation.

“Have you ever heard of this dude, Kim Nam— what was it? Kim Nam-Moom? Nam-Moon?” It is Jimin that is currently talking, gestures wild and emphasised as he shifts his weight and cocks the hip that has his hand on it. “Anyway whatever his name is that bitch has gotta go, there can only be one winning protagonist in this romcom and it’s gonna be me.”

Taehyung, who thankfully hasn’t seemed to catch sight of your wired form yet, slaps a hand to his chest as his mouth drops open. The part of you that isn’t running around and bouncing against the walls of your skull like a headless chicken thinks that he’d probably do pretty well in your Tuesday morning drama class, he has that sort of air.

“I’m on the list too?” he says, and points a finger at his friend, brows raising. You think the effect he is looking for with his expression is somewhere between heartbroken and accusatory and, oddly enough, he achieves it for the most part. His voice drips with challenge. “Are you gonna kill me, Jimothy, after all I’ve done for you?”

Admittedly, a particularly-wired part of you wants to burst into borderline hysterical laughter at hearing the male call Jimin, who is actually the second student you tutor every other day after Hoseok, something like ‘Jimothy’, but your instincts are still stuck on fight or flight and your poor brain gets stuck choosing between them. The end result is like when you can’t choose whether to say ‘have a good day’ and ‘goodbye’ and end up saying ‘have a goodbye’ instead.

Your first bet is to dart past and hope they don’t see you, but when you embark on that journey it takes all of a second for their gazes to move to you and for you to be, regrettably, caught out. Panicking, you halt to point at both of them and present your winning argument.

“It’s not either of you!” It comes out a garbled mess and you want to shrivel up and die already, but somewhat productively choose to instead channel that energy into your prompt escape from the scene.

Before either of them can even open their mouths and ask what you mean or, better yet, if you’re alright, you’re already bolting to the glass doors and darting through the first narrow gap big enough to fit you through it as they automatically open.

Realistically, you know that everyone is looking at you because you give off the energy that you’re about to have a mental breakdown and not because they know, or even suspect you’re the author. Even so, it feels as though everyone’s eyes are on you at once and you suddenly feel extremely paranoid, making the executive decision to shortcut through a building in an effort to escape the weight of their gaze.

Lady Luck has truly scorned you and thrown you to the dogs, you know this because the second you step foot into the building, the glass door not even having time to slide shut behind you, you’re being pulled to the side and hands are gripping your shoulders.

“y/n! Please tell me I need to know.” To your utter shock and horror it’s Namjoon that has you in a panicked death-grip and you want to fall back and let the wind carry you away to a place where none of this is happening to you. You’ve hardly come to terms with the fact you’ve managed to so far run into five of the seven candidates mentioned in that stupid post when he continues, shaking you a little. His eyes are wide and filled to the brim with concern, but for what you will never know.

“Do I look like a Nam-boob to you?”

A scream bubbles in your throat before you have the presence of mind and self-control to stop it, and you yank yourself from his hold with a shriek. You don’t even have the capacity to process how dumb what he just said is, nor the energy for the incredulity that would follow. All you can manage, mind stuck on the fact that he was listed as a possible candidate and you cannot have him thinking he is the subject of the poem, is a sharp, warbled, “IT’S NOT YOU, EITHER!”

With that, you leave him standing in place, wide-eyed and slightly scared as you tear off down the hall like a madwoman. In your haste to flee and the result of your poor decision-making earlier, you don’t even realise you’ve entered a building you’re completely unfamiliar with until it’s too late. Relief floods you as you find an exit, finally, and you bolt from the building as quick as your legs can take you.

You emerge onto the grassy area that you’d passed by earlier, bag slipping from your shoulder almost as you register the throng of people dispersing from the centre of the area— you choose to ignore it for the sake of your current mental state. Perhaps unwisely, you take this as a moment to catch your breath and adjust your bag, but evidently it is a moment too long because barely a split-second later there is another all-too-familiar voice greeting your ears and making you jump five feet into the air.

“y/n?” The voice is coloured with surprise and you turn, a knowing horror lurking in the pit of your abdomen, to see the one and only Kim Seokjin standing before you. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of your face and the confirmation it is, indeed you. He is apparently blind to your frazzled appearance, you note this because he immediately continues like nothing is amiss in your current high-strung presentation.

“Aw, y/n, you literally just missed the greatest TEDtalk of my career, perhaps even all time,” his plush lips are tugging into a shit-eating grin and you can feel your last brain cells, the final frontier, depleting just looking at him. “You see, I just brought around thirty-something people to see the light on why I am the true subject of the moon poem. Don’t worry though, the next session will start soon, you didn’t miss out. I’m actually booked out until about eight PM so you’re kind of lucky—”

A muted sound, awfully akin to a sob, escapes you, but the pink-haired male doesn’t even notice, too busy enjoying the sound of himself talking. He turns to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. Compassion drips from his features, brows furrowed as he places a hand on his heart.

“I understand you must have heard the news late and rushed straight here to hear my piece… fear not young padawan for I am nothing if not a humanitarian always willing to help those in need.”

“You’re so stupid,” you finally manage to dislodge the incredulity holding your tongue in place and your words come out in a sob. You slap your hand to your face as your eyes genuinely sting with tears. “You’re so— so stupid oh my god, I’m going to kill you—”

It’s like the fucker is deaf to anything that isn’t praise and compliments because he’s not even remotely phased by your words. The simper that curls his lips kind of makes you want to throw your fist in his face but instead you turn on your heel, choosing to be the bigger woman.

The sensible thing to do would be head in the direction you need to go to get home, but you’re currently too focused on the need to escape and instead end up darting across the field into another building. If the universe won’t let you go home then you guess you’ll just lock yourself up in a janitor’s closet or something for some reprieve. You hear Seokjin yelling after you as you make a hasty retreat, despite your best efforts to block him out.

“Should I book you in for a later session? y/n? HEY COME BACK YOU KNOW I NEED PRAISE AND VALIDATION DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE WITHOUT GIVING IT TO ME—”

The firm thud of the next building’s doors closing behind you might just be the best sound you’ve heard all evening. Eager to put even more distance between you and Seokjin, you start to move once more. Idly, you recognise the building as the one next to the engineering centre— the architecture building? You know this part of campus is actually close to the dorms you used to stay in, but the realisation isn’t as comforting as you wish it was.

Feeling like an absolute shell of a woman at your complete and utter witt’s end, you scrape your feet down the halls with all the energy of a tired victorian-era ghost. Closet, or a classroom? Which is a better place to have a mental breakdown? If you don’t cry soon you’re worried the suppressed tears are going to leak out your pores, and you really don’t want to look or feel like you’re sweating a monsoon’s worth of tears. Realising that classrooms come with the risk of students entering whenever they please, you settle on the next closet you see embedded into the wall. It’s a room deep into the bowels of the building, not too far from the bathrooms you accidentally stumbled upon last time you were here. The sight of it brings a morsel of hope amongst the trauma the day has brought you and you think any minute now you’re really going to cry from the stress. The thin plaque near the top of the door informs you that this particular closet houses cleaning supplies and you’re not really in a position to be picky so you take what you can get.

Eager for the next best thing besides the sweet release of death— complete and utter solitude, for anyone wondering— you waste no time in gripping the handle and yanking the door open. Usually you’d rather tear your own toes off and feed them to the monstrous fish in the lake than trespass into a cleaning closet but you’re truly a hair’s breadth away from total mental collapse and at this point in time you could care less. You should have known that the universe wasn’t going to let you choose a damn closet in peace.

As you swing the door open with enough force that the hinges squeak, there are several things that come immediately and alarmingly to your attention. First, is the light hanging from the ceiling which is already on and humming softly. Second, is the tall old-school mop leant against one of the walls in the small space, a pair of mismatched googly eyes slapped onto the twisted bundles of thread that hang limply, despondently, on the side of the mop not pressed against the wall. Third, the closet reeks of must and sweat and a sneeze is already building in your nostrils when you realise the fourth and fifth, arguably the most alarming, details about the closet.

You’re not alone in the space and the male standing kind of slumped against the wall, momentarily frozen and staring at you with wide eyes, is someone very familiar to you. Min Yoongi, your old RA from when you were staying in the dorms last year, stands like a deer caught in headlights before you— your gaze trailing the length of his pale arm leads you to the fifth and final discovery that, arguably, is probably the one that finally pushes you over the edge. Your brain flatlines and heat floods your face so unbearably you feel like your head is about to tip off your shoulders.

It would seem as though you’ve walked in on Min Yoongi having a bit of good, old-fashioned one-on-one time with Min Jr.

The two of you stand in silence for a few seconds as the situation sinks in, your eyes unable to remove themselves from where they are fixed on his Min Sceptre until you forcibly tear them away. It’s only as your cheeks burn and your gaze flicks shamefully between his face and where his hand stays frozen mid-stroke that Yoongi seems to realise you’re not an apparition and indeed he’s been caught with his literal hand down his literal pants— well, they’re open and halfway down his legs but you get the idea.

For some reason, the male doesn’t think to tuck away his junk before he begins speaking in defence of himself and his actions. It hangs loud and proud still engaged and engorged, ready for battle, as he sputters in an attempt to form a response.

“It’s not- not what it looks like— actually,” the shamed expression that had contorted his features quickly twisted into one of indignance; shamefully you note that he’s still full-mast and not looking like he’s about to lower any time soon. “It’s exactly what it looks like. What, you want me to say sorry? Can’t a man jerk his gherkin in peace? I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

Your mouth drops open, brain still decisively flatlining and out of commission for probably the next few days, and the male continues on, his free hand flying into the air to gesture emphatically while the other remains in a trusty grip around the long balloon that still— still— doesn’t look like it’s going to deflate anytime soon. “I just need five minutes— five minutes! — without a freshman asking me for some god damn fucking TOILET paper, alright?”

You really can’t help but wonder, how is it that he’s still got such impressive blood flow to his lower region despite the situation and his rapid, indignant defence. He drops into silence for a moment, dark eyes looking at you expectantly. You’re still speechless.

“Well?” he prompts, his free hand resting on his hip in a posture similar to that of a middle-aged mother with a can-I-speak-to-your-manager haircut scolding her misbehaving child. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I…” you feel kind of faint, too much blood rushing to you head, and struggle to formulate a fitting response— and really, what the hell can you say in response to this? He’s still standing there with his dick out! His DONG-saeng! His home-grown churro! Is he not embarrassed, at all? How is he still fully pumped and rearing to go?! “Y… p-pee- peen—”

“Go on, do you have anything to say about rudely walking in on me at such a crucial moment? Mop-ssi here was about to get to the good stuff, do you have any idea—”

For the first time since you’d entered the closet, Yoongi releases his grip on his ramrod serpent and your gaze is caught, once more, as it bounces heavily in the air. All the remaining blood in your body rushes to your head and you have a moment of realisation that you’re about to literally pass out, right before you do. At least, you think as your vision fades to black and the last thing you see is Min Jr winking at you salaciously, at least you were finally getting some reprieve from the nightmare this friday turned into. When you wake everything will be fine, this will be just a dream. It’s fine, it’s all over now.

Unfortunately for you it is, in fact, not over.

— • masterlist | intro | next • —

[please like & rb and pls pls pls let us know what you think!! <3 thank u for reading!]

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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This may or may not get personal. Are you ready? Ya’ll know I already share quite a bit in my survey answers, so.

How old are you turning on your next birthday? 32. D:

Do you have a favourite film, if so, what is it and why? I have many. Hard to choose just one favorite, there’s a lot of great films.

When was the last time you had sex? Never.

Did you want it, or did the other person want it?

Have you ever had that one friend who complained about everything? I have. It got quite exhausting.

Were you ever that friend? I really try not to be a complainer and keep a lot of it to myself. At least to other people, ha I complain a lot in surveys and Twitter. That’s different, though, it’s complaining to the void.

What is the next film you want to see in the theaters? So many movies were supposed to come out that I wanted to see, but who knows when theaters will be able to safely open back up. A lot of movie release dates keep getting pushed back as well, so there wouldn’t be too many movies to see right now anyway.

Be honest, did Fifty Shades of Grey arouse you in any way? I can’t believe I read that series, first of all. Second of all, I will admit to feeling some type of way at times :X I saw the first movie and it was so cringe that I didn’t see the others.

What does your sibling(s) call you? Steph.

Do you believe in God or Fate or neither? I believe in God.

Do you have any close friends that are the opposite sex that your significant other dislikes? I don't have a significant other or friends, so no problem there.

Do you honestly believe everything happens for a reason? Why or why not? I do.

Did you ever play Truth or Dare? Yeah.

If so, what was the worse thing that has happened because of it? I never chose dare, so nothing. The few times I’ve played didn’t last long either, so not much happened anyway. It got old quickly.

Ever played seven minutes in heaven? No.

Do you believe in reincarnation? Why or why not? No.

The Hunger Games or The Maze Runner? The Hunger Games. I never read or saw The Maze Runner.

Have you ever been to Australia? No.

If not, would you like to go? Sure.

To what state would you like to go in Australia? Hmm. Perhaps Queensland or New South Wales.

What about America, have you ever been? I’m American.

If not, would you like to go to America?

To what state would you like to go in America? There’s several states I’d like to visit, one being New York.

Has there ever been a time you were scared of a stranger? Yes. I’ve felt uncomfortable in public situations where I got bad vibes or sensed something bad.

Has anyone you’ve known claimed to be psychic? No.

Did/do you believe them? --

Have you ever had a beer bong? No.

What about a bong? No.

Do you even smoke? Not anymore, but I did a few times in my early 20s.

Is anything annoying you right now? Not at the current moment.

Any friends who are constantly venting about their boyfriend?

Have you ever been ice-skating? Nope.

Does the sound of rain at night help you sleep? I love the sound of rain, but I always have earphones in at night so I wouldn’t hear it.

Have you ever seen an albino person, in person? Yes.

Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? No.

Do you obsessively apply lip-gloss or lip balm? Nope. I should apply it at least sometimes because my lips do get dry often.

Anything in your room that you’re hiding from your parents or someone else? Nah.

Have you ever walked into a massive cobweb? EW, yes.

When you can tell that someone’s lying, do you call them out on it? Ehhh, it depends.

Have you ever hallucinated? No.

How are you? Been feeling under the weather the past week.

What would you say is your strongest felt emotion right now? I just feel meh.

Have you ever felt abandoned? Yes.

Where are you? I’m in my room.

Have you ever wished on a shooting star? No. I’ve never even seen one.

Did it come true?

Are you talking to anyone at the moment? Nope.

What’s been the worst part of this day? Today was okay.

Do you have trust issues? No. My issue is that I just have a hard time opening up to people and expressing myself. I don’t like the focus and attention on me and talking about myself, despite what you might think since I do a lot of that in surveys. But to me it’s like writing in a diary or shouting into the void even though people obviously read and see my answers. However, I’m not talking to someone and expressing my feelings and thoughts face to face and getting a response (though sometimes people comment on something I said, but you get what I mean) or seeing their reaction or anything. It’s different.

Have you ever found an arrow head? No.

Who is with you? My family is home, but they’re all in their rooms asleep.

What can you not stop thinking about? A lot of things. My mind is a jumbled mess. Stuff plays on a loop.

Is there anything you want or need right now? I’m hungry, but I don’t want to make my nightly bowl of ramen quite yet. I have a schedule I like to keep, so I make it around the same time every night. I still have like an hour and a half to wait.

Do have faith in yourself? No. :/

What about your goals? I don’t really have any. :/

Who last encouraged you to better yourself? My family has always been encouraging and supportive and want the best for me.

Do you forgive easily? I do.

What has changed about you recently? Nothing. That’s the problem.

Anything your excited about or looking forward to? No. I’m sad that last year around this time my family and I were planning our trip to Disneyland and we were super excited. It was fun having something like that to look forward to. This year there isn’t anything.

Have you ever been called a slut or whore? Just jokingly with friends.

What was the last thing that aggravated you? Mehh. I just get in these moody and irritable moods a lot for seemingly no reason and because of that anything can irritate me.

In what part of your life so far, have you learnt the most about yourself? I have in some ways these past few years. Are you more sad or happy right now? Sad.

Have you ever been in a fist fight? Nope.

Are you comfortable? I’m alright.

Who do you miss? My loved ones who have passed.

Are things easier said than done? That’s true for a lot of things.

What aggravates you most about people in general? The close mindedness and people just following along with the herd without looking into things themselves and forming their own opinions. Too many people just go along with stuff and they don’t seem to know what’s really going on. So much misinformation gets spread that way, too.

Are your ears pierced? Yeah, my earlobes are.

What did you last say out loud? “Goodnight.”

What are you waiting on? I’m waiting to make my ramen.

What’s on the t.v. at the moment? King of Queens.

Do you like anything about being angry? No? It’s not a pleasant feeling.

Who did you last hug? My mom.

Did you have a summer job this year? I’ve never had a summer job. Or a job, ever.

What do you smell right now? Nothing at the moment.

Where do you wish you were? I’m fine where I’m at.

The last thing you did before this? My mom and I caught up on one of our shows we watch.

Do you get surprises often? No.

Name a crime you have committed? Downloaded music and movies. I’m real rebel.

Do you tell people when they get on your nerves? I have when it was my brother, but typically no I don’t.

Do you have any regrets? I have many. :/

Are your feelings hurt easily? I’m sensitive. Sometimes more than other times.

What is your stance on keeping gifts or mementos from past relationships? I’m someone who keeps stuff like that.

Have you ever hooked up with someone that one of your close friends had already dated or hooked up with? Nope.

Have you ever disowned/been disowned by a family member? No.

What's the most expensive piece of clothing you have? Did you buy it yourself? My Adidas tracksuits and sweatshirts that were gifted to me from my parents.

What brings out the best in you? Hmm.

Who is your closest platonic friend of the opposite sex?

Have you ever taken a break in a relationship with the intention of getting back together? How did it go? No, I haven’t been in that situation.

When was the last time you were ill? I feel crappy a lot of the time, but the last time I was sick-sick was back in October.

How do you think your first relationship shaped who you are as a partner now? I haven’t had a real relationship to be honest. At 31 years old and very little experience with that kind of thing, that certainly will play a role if I do ever have a relationship.

What is the worst thing you've done to another person? I completely withdrew and distanced myself from my friends a few years ago. I’m such a shitty person.

Who is your favourite protagonist of the same sex? Leslie Knope or Lorelai Gilmore. <<< Lorelai Gilmore is definitely one of mine, too. I have many favorites, though.

Were you popular in high school? What was your reputation like? Haha no, not at all.

Have you ever sent someone naked pictures? No.

What app needs to be invented ASAP? I don’t know. There seems to be an app for everything.

Have you named any of your posessions? Stuff like my stuffed animals.

Have you always known your sexual orientation or did something happen to make you realize it? It wasn’t something I thought about until I started getting into boys and having crushes, which was when I was in the 3rd grade.

What make up do you wear on a regular basis? I don’t wear makeup anymore.

What was the hardest part of your last break up? When Joseph decided he was done with whatever it was we had going on and that he didn’t feel the same way I did and had no interest in being in an actual relationship with me, I took it very hard because I had been very clear and open with my feelings and that was very hard for me to do. I laid it all out there, mustering up the courage to do so, and got rejected. He completely played and used me, knowing how I felt, and it hurt. A lot.

What brought you out of the hardest period in your life? I’m still going through it. These past few years have really done a number on me.

Have you ever deleted your Facebook or other social media? Nope.

Have you ever lost or gained weight very quickly? What happened? I became underweight a few years ago due to health reasons and I haven’t been able to gain weight and get back to a healthy weight.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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wolfpawn · 4 years

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 148

Chapter Summary - Tom realises something is slightly off with Danielle but it seems even she is not focusing on it.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

So the spoons story Tom revealed before on a chat show.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Tom knew within a few minutes of Danielle's company on his return that his suspicions were correct. Something was bothering her and she did not seem set to share it. It was peculiar, it was as though whatever it was, she was actively seeking to avoid and work around it herself. He watched as she tried to force herself to speak to him as she usually did but there was also a peculiar sense to her too. He tried to make her feel like she could speak to him but she continued to say nothing. She smiled and spoke as close to normal as she could muster, but there was a strain in it for her.

She told him of everything she had to do for the documentation, she showed him who was involved, several of the names were world-leading experts apparently. She mentioned that if she had thought Waters and Safeguard were something to note, this was several times more impressive. When he asked her if there was a possibility of her getting her name in with bigger companies, perhaps set the groundwork for when she would be done with her contract with Safeguard, she nodded and said that if it went well, she could get a job with anyone she wanted and name her price.

Then she explained her triathlon training. To say it was going to be intense was an understatement. Tom stared open-mouthed at the sheer amount of hours a week she was now going to dedicate to training after months of her barely even getting a jog some weeks. She told him of the races she would be doing as a build-up to the main event and that she had already booked her room for the weekend in the small and apparently, going by the pictures she showed him on her phone, beautiful Welsh seaside town. She informed him it was a double room and booked for two and that she hoped he could make it but she understood if he would have work commitments. Whatever it was that was bothering her, he was relieved to see that it did not concern her in a way that meant she foresaw a situation of them not being together in September.

What he noticed more than anything was that Danielle refused to sit still and simply relax. Even when he was not around her and walked into a room she was in, she had the radio on. That was noteworthy in itself, usually, she just chose some album or shuffle to listen to but by actively seeking the radio, she was avoiding her own music. He noted that the radio channels of choice were Irish, or what he assumed to be Irish at least as it was in a language he did not know and the music all seemed to be traditional Irish music, which he knew from his lock-in in Camden where he was forced to learn the spoons to be allowed stay drinking with his friends, or more often, Irish bands and singers. He listened and attempted to at least figure out the gist what was being said, but it was impossible, Irish was not even derived from Latin like a large number of European languages, so nothing made an ounce of sense.

He walked into the kitchen three days after his return with Luke to discuss more work to see Danielle's phone on the worktop and hearing the peculiar language before spotting Danielle filling the bird feeders in the garden.

'What is that?’ Luke asked pointing to Danielle's phone.

'Did you know that when Danielle was small, she never spoke English in her home, that she only started learning it when she was five-years-old in school?’ Tom stated.

'But Ireland speaks English? That's its language.’

'Yes and no. The first language of most Irish people is English but in small pockets of Ireland, such as Connemara, Elle's area, Irish is the first and often the only language spoken.’ Tom beamed.

'So she knows what's being said?’ Luke pointed to the phone and Tom nodded. 'Do you know any of it?’

'Not really, I figured out a word that more than likely means hospital and I know that the HSE was the Irish equivalent of the NHS, so them being so close together was something I was able to work out. Some of the reports are in English, though some of the politicians seem to know a lot of Irish too so I don't always know what's going on. Apparently, they have a huge referendum this month.’ Tom rambled.

Luke just looked at him blankly with no idea as to how to respond to such a statement. Before he could retort in any manner, the dogs and Danielle came back inside. 'Hey.’ She smiled as she walked over and turned off the radio app on her phone. 'How are you gentlemen today? Tea?’

‘I have it there.’ Tom smiled back at her. 'How was the run?’

'Fine, our friend was out to annoy us again.’ She informed him, referencing the photographer that seemed to all but live in Belsize to irritate the celebrities who called the area home. ‘Bobby needs a walk later, I brought Mac with me for the run, could you do it?’

'Sure.’ Tom was slightly startled by her request. It often happened that if one of them was going for a run, they would take Mac with them and the other would walk Bobby later as the pup was not old enough yet to jog with them, but the way she asked him confused him slightly. 'Are you busy, we could do it together?’

'I am going to the office in a minute, I want to sort something.’ She explained. 'I want to get some files, I plan on a solid four hours tomorrow after the pool.’

'Should you be going this intensely already?’

'Tom, I am late getting started and I have not even gotten my bike yet. I will have to see about fitting in some bike time then too and then all three together. I guess that's a good thing about the summer on the coast, I can put all three together there.’

‘What’s this then?’ Luke asked curiously, noting Tom's downtrodden demeanour and Danielle's seemingly mad training schedule.

'I am doing an Ironman in September, so I have to start my training now to be ready.’ She explained.

'Ironman?’

'A swim, then bike, then running competition.’ Danielle explained.

'Sounds exhausting. Rather you than me.’ He retorted. 'Tom told me about your other work also, congratulations, you will be incredibly busy.’

'Yes, it'll be balls to the wall for a while but it's a good way to be. I like being busy when possible.’

'Just as long as you look after yourself, I read injuries are commonplace in training from overdoing it.’ Tom warned.

'I know, Love. Plenty of rest is a big part, thankfully it exhausts you so as soon as I hit the pillows at night, I will more than likely conk.’ She smiled and grabbed her phone. 'I better head to the office, I'll leave the car here and talk to you later, okay?’ She leant up and kissed Tom's cheek. 'There is dinner in the fridge, easy to heat up and sort.’

'Won't you be home for it?’ He asked. 'I can hold off?’

'Don't worry yourself. I'll heat mine when I get back.’ She turned to Luke. 'Thanks for everything at the premiere, I forgot to say. It helped.’

'Of course, that's what I'm here for.’

'I am fairly sure your mother didn't bring you into the world to be Tom's babysitter and to console his girlfriend at an event but okay.’ She joked. 'But, in all seriousness, thank you. I hope I didn't cause you any trouble.’

'No, you didn't. Nothing of the sort, as usual with reference to you, you were nothing short of a dream to deal with. Bar the angry few that still have not realised Tom is a living breathing human being with his own life, once again, you have unanimous praise.’

‘Good, I will endeavour to keep it that way.’ She walked over to Tom. 'Almost forgot.’ She leant up and gave him a kiss. 'Don't go mad in my absence.’

‘Don’t worry, I'll clean it if we do.’

'Oh, I know you will, that's not the reason for my statement.’ Danielle laughed.

'Then what is?’ He questioned curiously.

'I just don't want to miss the fun.’ She smiled as she left the room.

Luke chuckled at her statement before looking at Tom. 'Is everything okay?’

'I don't know. I think something is going on with Danielle.’

'She seems her usual witty self to me but I don't live with her, so I can't say for sure. When did you seem to notice?’

'The premiere.’

'In what way?’

'She's stacking her schedule with work again, making sure she has so much to do all the time and she seems just...off. I can't explain it. She seems like something is bothering her and she is trying to ignore it.’

‘Does she often listen to Irish radio?’

'Apparently, she's been doing it all along and I never knew.’

'Parents birthdays or death anniversaries?’

‘Her mum's was back in January, her father's is next month and birthdays are a little off yet.’ He scanned his mind for the dates he knew meant something more to Danielle.

'I don't know what to say, maybe she is homesick or perhaps she is town weary. A few days in Suffolk will do her good, as will the summer by the sea.’

‘Am I thinking too much into it?’ Tom asked.

'Honestly, I can't stay, but I will say that the best thing to do is air your worries. You two work well together, don't hold that in but also respect that Danielle is not some dependent woman, she is very much her own, driven person. Career advancement and personal goals for her have to be done at a time that suits her, not anyone else. The career thing, she cannot help, that is being steamrolled from elsewhere and regarding her sports thing, it is in the statement you released last year, in papers, online, that she is accomplished at it so this is not completely out of place and at thirty-one, she has to think of her age, her health and the very real possibility that if you two continue as you do, there is going to be a time soon that she will have to forego such goals if you decide to get married and have children. If this is something wants and it will all be done and dusted come September, personally I see it as unreasonable to be irked by it. You both have things you like.’

'She is training several times a week. She went from barely time for a jog to several times a week.’ Tom argued. 'Ten hours rising to fifteen closer the time, it's madness.’

'I agree it's probably a form of madness, as well as a level of dedication that most would never have but in all fairness, she is ambitious in her personal goals, that is something that you have said many times appeals to you about her.’ Tom said nothing back. 'You're concerned that there is no place for you in this, aren't you?’

'She seems to be making little time for us.’

'Have you asked to join her for some of this training, you run, she'll be running, that's something. You could get a bike or swim also.’

'You have no idea what an Ironman is, do you?’

'No why?’

'Google it, Google Ironman distances.’ Luke did as Tom suggested and his eyes widened as his mind computed the words in front of him. 'Bar asking if she has received a sharp blow to the head recently to willingly choose to do this, I don't know what to say.’

Tom did not know how to respond either.

#i hate you i love you #chapter 148 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

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